chapter 3
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
"Take a seat, dude. I never thought to ask if you even drink coffee. There's still some juice in the fridge if you want."
"Coffee's fine," the kid replied softly, as if he was surprised to have been consulted. He slid onto the chair, settling his ass right on the edge, ready to run.
:
He clasped the cup with both hands, and this time Dean couldn't help but notice a colourful variety of bruises peeking out from the sleeves of the shirt, but he kept silent.
Inwardly sighing, he hardened his heart. He couldn't fix all the shit that went down in the world. The kid would be gone in the morning. What had happened to the boy was none of his business...And ...yet...
:
"So Sam, huh? It kinda suits you," Dean said. "Though I'd say you're more of a Sammy!"
The kid shrugged and sipped his coffee.
"It's good," he volunteered shyly. "Sweet and milky."
"Help yourself to the cookies, dude."
Sam reached out a hand, long fingers promising that the boy still had a lot of growing to do, and bit into the chocolate chip cookie.
:
The kid was skinny as hell, Dean observed, but once more he pushed the thought to the side.
He'd done his good deed for the day, but that didn't stop him from surreptitiously studying the boy from beneath his eyelashes.
Sam was running from something, that was obvious. No normal kid with a loving family would need to be roaming the streets during such a storm, then seek refuge in a stranger's car.
Again he tried to tell himself it was none of his business, yet he couldn't stop the words from falling from his lips.
"You in trouble, Sam?"
The boy gave a little jump before shaking his head.
:
"I get it's none of my business, but I know what it's like to find yourself on your own, with no-one to give you a hand."
"It's fine, " Sam replied nervously. " I'll go in the morning and you won't have any more bother from me."
"So you're not gonna tell me why you ended up in my car? You running from something? Maybe I can help."
"No-one can, " the kid answered, his hazel eyes tearing up. "You've been good to me. I don't want you to get into trouble. I'm not worth it."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that," Dean replied. "How old are you anyway?"
Sam shrugged. "Fifteen I guess. Don't know exactly when I was born."
:
Fuck, with every word this kid was wrapping himself around his heart.
Sam was an orphan, didn't know when he was born and if the hickies and bruises he'd noted were anything go by, had suffered the same treatment as Dean himself.
:
"You a foster kid?"
Sam nodded.
"Me too," Dean said. "And I don't know my birthdate either. So you see we have a lot in common."
A mote of curiosity appeared in the boy's eyes.
"Yep, " Dean continued. "They found me on the hospital steps when I was a new-born. No idea who I am. How about you?"
"Don't know, " Sam mumbled into his coffee. "No-one's ever told me anything."
And another tendril of endearment for the boy curled itself around Dean's heart.
"What? You're telling me you know nothing about yourself, not even where you were found?"
All I remember is living in the foster home until I was ... given to..."
His face paled, as if he couldn't bring himself to continue.
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said gently. "You don't know me. You don't have to tell me anything. Come on it's time little kids like you were tucked up in bed."
"Not a kid, " Sam objected with a totally adorable pout.
Studying the cute kid, Dean had no trouble understanding how he could appeal to the baser instincts of the same kind of animals who'd preyed on himself.
:
"Listen. I know you said you want to leave in the morning, but if you feel up to it, stay until I get back from work tomorrow. We can talk more and maybe come to some arrangement for you to hang around here for a while. Just until you get things worked out. Would you be good with that?"
Sam gave him another of his intense stares, as if examining his very soul. "Why would you want to help me? I'm just some street kid?"
Dean shrugged. He didn't have the answer to that question himself. It just felt right somehow.
"I just want to give you a hand," Dean said. "And I'd enjoy the company. Never really made many friends myself."
:
"Okay, thanks," Sam agreed. "Just until I get things sorted out."
"Just until then, " Dean echoed, inexplicably happy that the boy had agreed to remain, at least until tomorrow.
tbc
