Disclaimer: I do not own the darlings.
Author's Note: This is a love story about finding one's soul mate, not being afraid, taking the chance and relishing the journey. It's about not waiting, nor engaging in mind games, but listening to your heart and not necessarily your mind. I hope you enjoy it.
Treasures by the Trash
Chapter One
Dean slowly cracked one eye open and then the other, blinking a few times against the late afternoon sun.
It was his last working day before his week of holidays started. He'd pulled the late shift and if he didn't haul his ass out of bed, he'd be late for it.
He decided to take a few minutes anyways to ponder the unexplained bubble of excitement in his chest. The energy coursing through him left him feeling tingly and breathless.
Not one to usually give in or over to feelings he couldn't explain, Dean nevertheless found himself humming a short time later, as he brushed his teeth and got dressed.
Padding into the kitchen, Dean opened his well stocked fridge and pulled out the fixings for a sandwich to go. Living alone did not mean not eating well. Like his fridge, Dean's cupboards were also well stocked. Working at a restaurant had its perks, leftovers being one of them.
The house he lived in was small and comfortable. His boss and his friend, Mr. De Lucca owned the house and gave Dean a good discount on his rent.
Dean had no family left to speak of and he'd lost contact with any long ago friends over the years. He'd drifted from one place to another for a few years, before finally ending up in Mr. De Lucca's neck of the woods.
Smiling to himself, Dean remembered his first encounter with the elderly man. He'd applied for a job at Mr. De Lucca's restaurant, a tiny hole-in-the-wall place, well loved by the locals as well as those simply passing through. He had been willing to take anything that was going. He was a quick learner and in need of money. Mr. D. had looked him up and down, not in an unkind way, but more of an assessment view.
He smiled at Dean before shaking his hand and welcoming him to the tiny restaurant. Dean helped out in all areas, from dishwashing to floor sweeping to managing the cash and delivering orders. When Mr. D. found out that Dean did not have a place to live, he offered him a place, saying that he needed someone to look after the property for him. It was a good arrangement and it had been close to four years now, since their initial meeting.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
"Hi Dean" Linney called out from her driveway, smiling and waving as she climbed into her car.
"Hey ya, Linney" Dean called back, his mouth full of the sandwich he'd made, as he walked towards his one pride and joy, his car, a black 1967 Chevy Impala.
Linney was a retired special needs teacher, who, although officially retired, loved her life's work so much, that adults with learning challenges would meet at her home most week day mornings and be embraced by her joy of teaching with the results of enabling her students to empower themselves in their learning.
Although it was hard to tell, Dean guessed Linney had to be in her seventies. She was feisty and caring and Dean was glad to have her in his life.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
"Young man, give those to me right now. You have no right to take those things. They do not belong to you" Mrs. Vitteria cried, as she grabbed at the box and garbage bag, containing clothes, a picture and some assorted bric a brac.
"Lady, I got every right in the world. See this notice right here, it says Eviction. That means, unless the scum that defaulted on their rent were here to claim their stuff before I trash it, then out it goes" the belligerent enforcer advised.
The widowed Mrs. Vitteria could not have this. She might not be able to save all of the boys' meager belongings, but she would do her darnest to save what she knew they treasured. They were both good boys who had experienced tragedy and sadness and still had not let it tarnish their wonderful spirits.
"I will let a scream out of me young man that will raise the devil himself if you do not hand over those things. I will then make up the most outrageous lie and have you taken down to the police station because of it" a furious Mrs. Vitteria exclaimed. "Now give me those things" she demanded and pulled them hard out of the man's grip.
"Fine lady, have it your way, it's crap anyways. Now, will you move, so that I can lock the door and slap on the notice" the man leered as he walked forward, effectively making Mrs. Vitteria walk backwards struggling with the box and bag and out the door.
She had the apartment directly across from the guys and had left her door open when she had heard all the commotion. Dragging the articles into her apartment and walking back to close her door, her eyes glazed with tears at the red eviction sign now posted.
Closing her door, she then sat down on her couch and let out a worried sigh. She'd been out of town for a while, taking care of her ill sister. Things had happened so fast, that she didn't have an opportunity to tell the boys that she would be gone for a while. To complicate matters further, they didn't have a phone and therefore she couldn't get in touch with them directly until her return.
Things weren't going to get better with her sister, so she had called the buffoon of a landlord long distance and handed in her notice verbally. She would be gone soon and was in fact in the process of packing her stuff up.
When she had initially returned, Mrs. Vitteria had been worried when her knocks had gone unanswered. She wasn't one to pry, but something was certainly the matter and now seeing the eviction notice, she knew for sure that something was terribly wrong.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
It was well past closing time, the rest of the staff was gone and it was only Dean and Mr. De Lucca left. Mr. De Lucca's ride was waiting out front for him and Dean was tying up the last of the garbage to take out when he left.
"Have a good week off, Dean. You deserve it, young man. We couldn't get along here without you" Mr. De Lucca stated sincerely. "Here's a little something extra for your holidays" he continued, as he handed Dean some money.
"I can't accept this, Mr. De Lucca. You've helped me out more than you'll ever know, by believing in me and giving me this job. That's more than enough" Dean said, trying to give the money back.
"Dean, please take it. I want you to have it. Go out and have some fun. Now go, get out of here, before I change my mind" Mr. De Lucca chuckled as he walked away.
Dean looked down at the money in his palm. "Thanks, Mr. De Lucca" he called out as he put the money into his jeans pocket.
Grabbing the bag of garbage, Dean made his way out the kitchen back door of the restaurant.
"He shoots...he misses...the fans go wild...boo...hiss" Dean hollered in a low voice as he tossed the garbage and missed the bin. Dean walked over, bent down and reached between the large metal containers to retrieve the wayward bag.
"Holy shit!" he howled in surprise as his hand touched goose-bumped flesh.
Falling backwards, Dean squinted at the space between the containers, trying to get a better visual of who was there. The poor lighting made it difficult.
The person appeared to be a female, with angry looking bruising on her upper arms and a torn dress. Her head was down against her pulled up knees.
"Hey there, don't be scared, you just startled me. I bet I scared you too" Dean said in his most soothing voice as he righted himself to a crouching position closer to the entrance of the space between the bins.
"Please...just go away. I...I'll be okay" a deep and tearful voice responded. Dean hesitated, the deep voice didn't sound like a girl's. However, the torment was real. Dean quietly observed the person between the trash bins. He'd been mistaken, this was certainly no girl.
"My name's Dean" he said softly, daring to reach out again and lightly touch the young man, in the torn dress with the bruises, who was clearly hurting. "What's yours?" he asked gently.
There were a few moments of silence, before the head lifted to reveal a tear streaked face. Mournful eyes looked up at him. "It's Sam" he cried.
"Hi Sam" Dean said softly. "Looks like you've had a bit of trouble. How badly are you hurt?"
There was no immediate response, but those deep and tear filled eyes continued to gaze at him.
Dean felt it first in his heart, something akin to a small electrical shock, jolting him. He knew without a doubt, he was looking at the person he was destined to be with. He hadn't been a true believer in stories he had read about love at first sight, but he hadn't been a disbeliever either. He now knew it to be true.
Very slowly, Dean reached up and ran his thumb lightly over Sam's quivering lips, soaking up some of the tears that fell this way.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Sam and I promise that I'll do my best to make sure no one else does either" Dean voiced gently. "I am concerned though about how badly you're hurt. Do you think you could come out of there, so I can make sure you're okay...please?"
Sam's face completely crumpled. He couldn't battle it any longer. He had been left scared and shaken and bruised. His well laid plans had blown up and exploded and now things were worse than before, with one notable exception, the saviour before him.
Sam felt the warmth and gentleness of Dean through his touch and his words. His heart leapt with an almost overwhelming feeling and rush of love and it told his mind to shut up when that internal little voice shouted that this couldn't be happening, that it wasn't possible.
It had been a hell of a time and trust was low on Sam's scale. Yet, he instinctively knew he could trust the man before him.
Dean moved back slightly, as Sam carefully slid out from between the bins and slowly began to stand on his unsteady legs.
Moving quickly, Dean grasped Sam lightly, helping to steady him. Sam was so cold.
"Look, my car is parked right over there. It'll be warm in there and I'll take you where ever you need to go" Dean promised.
Sam looked helplessly at Dean and nodded.
They walked slowly over to the car. Dean stopped at the back of the Impala and unlocked the trunk. Pulling out a soft fringed blanket, he fluffed it open and looked at Sam.
"Can I?"
Sam smiled weakly and nodded.
Dean placed the blanket around trembling shoulders and led Sam to the passenger side door. Opening it, he waited patiently as Sam slowly climbed in, before closing the door.
Once Dean was sitting in the driver's seat he turned and looked at Sam. "Where can I take you?"
Sam looked back at him with a swollen face, a runny nose and mascara streaked cheeks. "I've made the most terrible mess of things. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all" Sam sobbed hysterically. "I tried my best. I really, really did."
"It's all gone, Dean. It's all gone" Sam choked and cried before collapsing against Dean and becoming silent.
Dean had never encountered this level or type of raw emotion in another person before.
"Sam, I'll help you work it out. There can't be anything so bad, that it can't be undone or re-worked" Dean offered, as he gently rubbed Sam's arm. There was no response or reaction.
"Sam?" Dean tried again.
Nothing.
They couldn't stay in the car all night. Sam clearly wasn't in a state to make a decision. Dean decided to do the only thing he felt he could and that was to take Sam home with him.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Sam remained silent. The only change was when he wrapped his arms around Dean's forearm, just loose enough so that Dean wasn't restricted from driving properly.
Once they reached his place and Dean had parked and turned off the ignition, he placed his hand gently on Sam's locked ones.
"We're here, Sam."
Running his hand soothingly over Sam's knuckles, Dean waited.
"Let's get you inside" Dean finally said after a few minutes.
No longer expecting a response, Dean gently undid Sam's grip from his forearm and got out of the car, helping Sam to climb out after him.
Wrapping his arm lightly around Sam's blanket covered waist, Dean fumbled with the keys before finally getting the door open.
Turning on the light, gave Dean his first real good look at Sam. He was incredibly pale. Searching Sam's face, Dean startled somewhat when Sam spoke.
"I have to go to the bathroom" he said in a low voice.
"It's right over here" Dean motioned. Sam gave Dean the blanket and then walked over to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Dean was getting worried. Sam seemed to be taking a long time. Creeping quietly up to the door, Dean listened. Sam was crying. If he didn't come out soon, Dean was going to go in.
Dean had decided to give Sam his bed because it was by far the most comfortable one and he'd take the bed in the spare room. There was nothing wrong with the spare room bed, but Dean found he preferred the spread room of his king sized bed.
He'd been able to get fresh sheets on it while Sam was in the bathroom. Dean was also itching to get a look at Sam's injuries, but he doubted he'd able to do that until morning. He didn't want to upset him anymore than he already was.
Sam was a good few inches taller than him and lucky for both of them, Dean had an extra long night shirt that he had picked recently as part of a goodwill basket he was preparing for the less fortunate. If there was ever a case for a shirt in need, this was it.
Pulling the flannel shirt out of its wrapper, Dean shook it loose and held it up. It would fit.
Dean heard the bathroom door open and walked into the main room to find Sam standing before him.
"Do you want me to take a look at your injuries now, or in the morning?" Dean asked.
Sam looked at him with swollen and watery eyes. "Not now...please...just not now" he said.
"Okay, the morning it is" Dean agreed and then looked at Sam uncertainly.
"I...I made up my bed all fresh for you, with clean bedding and I left out a new nightshirt that I thought you could use" Dean stammered, as he pointed to his bedroom.
Sam walked up to Dean and lightly touched his shoulder. "I don't want to put you out, it's your place, I'll just lay here, if that's okay" Sam said softly, gesturing to the couch.
"Not a chance. Everything's ready for you in there" Dean said. "And if you need anything, anything at all, I'll be right next door in the spare room."
Walking over to the bedroom, Sam turned to look back at Dean. "Thank you" he murmured before entering the room.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
It took forever for Dean to get to sleep. His mind was racing and his thoughts were scattered. He had lost count of the number of times he had flipped his pillow to the cool side, hoping it would help lull him to sleep.
Finally, he dropped off into a fitful sleep only to be awoken a short time later by screams.
Disorientated at first, it took him a few seconds to gain some clarity and realize that the screams were coming from Sam.
Stumbling into the next bedroom, he turned on the bedside lamp at virtually the same time that Sam opened his eyes. He looked terrified, his hands clutching tightly at the tossed bedding. "Dean?" he questioned.
"Hey, it's okay, you're okay" Dean soothed as he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hands over Sam's. Feeling the trembling, Dean squeezed gently as he continued to hold Sam's gaze.
"You're okay...you're okay" Dean comforted, thankful when he began to slowly feel Sam relax beneath his touch.
"Let yourself fall back to sleep, Sam. I'm here. Nothing bad is going to happen" Dean said with gentleness and truth.
"Could you...would you...I mean, Dean...never mind" Sam breathed, closing his eyes and turning his face away.
"Sam?" Dean gently prodded.
Sam turned back and looked up at Dean. "Hold me?"
Dean's heart melted completely.
Turning off the lamp, Dean climbed in under the covers and wrapped himself around Sam.
Sam moved as tight against Dean as he possibly could, resting his head on Dean's shoulder and burying his face against Dean's neck.
In the darkness, wrapped up tight within Dean's arms, Sam finally let his mind rest from its tortured thoughts and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep with Dean's whispered words and feather kisses to his temple paving the way.
To be continued.