Chapter 2

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Freaking hell. There was something in the back seat.
Yanking the door open, he found himself gazing down at a kid, curled up unbelievably small in the foot-well.

"You little runt, " Dean called. "What the fuck are you dong in my car?"
He tended a hand to grab the kid's arm and yank him out, but he pulled back when he felt the trembling of the flesh beneath his fingers.

"Hey," he said, his voice more even. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just kinda pissed there's a stowaway in my car."

The kid swallowed audibly.
"I'm sorry mister. I didn't mean to. I was desperate and when I saw you unlock the car I slipped in the back, hoping the dark and rain would hide me. You're not gonna call the cops are you? Just let me go. I won't bother you again."

§

Dean's anger at someone defiling his car, waned.
The hardest of hearts would've been moved by the wretchedness of the boy, wet and shivering like a lost puppy, and Dean despite his difficult life and outward cockiness, had the softest of hearts where younger children were concerned.

"Listen. You got anywhere to go, other than the back seat of my car, I mean?"

"Uh-yeah. I uh..." the kid stuttered.
Dean felt himself grinning. "I take it that's a no?"

The boy ducked his head.

With a sigh, Dean stretched out a hand once more.
"Come on, runt. Let's make a deal. I give you a place to hang out tonight. You can dry your clothes and take a shower. I'll even give you breakfast, then send you on your merry way."

Ignoring Dean's hand, the boy nevertheless pulled himself up from the footwell and slipped onto the seat. He caught Dean's eyes and seemed to be studying him, then he nodded and stepped out of the car.

Once on his feet, Dean saw he was taller than he'd appeared scrunched up in the Impala, his head coming up to just past Dean's shoulder.

Taking hold of the boy's arm he escorted him towards the building. He was afraid the kid was going to bolt and for some reason, he didn't want that to happen.
The rain was still lashing down when he ushered the kid into his apartment and closed the door behind them.

§

"It's not much, but at least it's dry," Dean said, turning to stare at the boy who hadn't moved from the entrance..
He heaved a sigh. "Look I don't bite, okay, and I don't have a 'thing' for kids, so you're safe. You got a name?"

The boy nodded and came hesitantly forward into the small sitting room. "It's Sam."

It was only then that Dean noted the rags he was wearing.

Fuck he thought to himself, if he put them in the washer, they'd come out in shreds.

The kid was skinny as a rake and worse, just visible above the collar of his shirt, were a series of red marks on his skin.
Dean's pity for the boy increased. He knew what they signified.

§

"So, Sam!" Dean smiled, trying to put him more at ease.
"The bathroom's just over there," he added, pointing to a door leading off the side of the room. "I'll go dig out some clean sweat pants and a shirt. You'll find towels inside. If it makes you feel safer, lock the door but you've nothing to fear from me, you got that?"

The kid considered the offer for a moment then nodded.

Dean was dripping wet himself but he figured Sam needed to get into something dry. He'd seen drowned rats in better condition. Going into the bedroom, he rummaged through the wardrobe, pulling out an old shirt and a pair of pants

"I'll rustle up some coffee and cookies while you shower. You look as if you need something hot inside you," he said, handing Sam the dry clothes.

A couple of minutes later he heard the hiss of water.

§

He eyed his watch. It was after 1:00 am. He'd been with a client whose husband had unexpectedly called to say he'd be back earlier than expected. She'd pressed a hundred dollars into his hand and sent him on his way.

Not bad for an hour's work with one of the rich bitches. Dean mused, storing the cash in his hidey-hole, beneath a loose tile in the tiny kitchen.

He had a bank account, but that was only for his official job. He'd been a foster kid and the first thing you learned was to hide away anything you held dear, and cash definitely came into that category.

Setting two mugs on the table, he emptied some cookies onto a plate. It wasn't much but he hadn't had time to stock up.
The eggs and pancake mix were reserved for breakfast.

The lock on the bathroom door clicked and Sam came out, drowned in Dean's cast-offs but a hundred times better than he'd been before.

:
Tbc