Dean Winchester was working on a customer's car when he heard the bell from the front office ding, signaling that someone had come in. "Be right there." He shouted as he put his tools down and wiped his hands off on a grease rag. "What can I do for ya?" He asked walking into the front room.

There was a young guy with shaggy brown hair standing at the counter wearing worn-out and easily second hand clothes. He was slouched over and Dean wasn't sure if he was lucid or not.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" Dean asked in a somewhat impatient voice. He had had a long day and was really looking forward to a hot shower and a warm bed.

The young guy looked up and Dean had to take a deep breath at what he saw. His face was covered in black and blue bruises, his left eye was swollen and his bottom lip was swollen and bleeding. "Are you okay?" Dean asked walking around the counter and over to the obviously frightened young man.

There was no answer.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. Do you need a hospital?" Dean asked taking another step towards him, surprised when he flinched away.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you, okay. I just want to get you cleaned up alright." Dean said in a reassuring tone of voice. "It's okay."

The man looked up with shy and untrusting eyes but eventually followed Dean back behind the counter.

"Here, have a seat. I'm just going to get my first aid kit alright." Dean said getting up and walking over to his desk. He pulled out the little red plastic box and set it on the desk. Dean pulled up a chair and sat across from the young man. "Can you tell me your name?"

Still no answer.

"My name's Dean and this is my garage." Dean said introducing himself. The young man before him was extremely timid but there was something about him that made Dean drawn to him and he felt an overwhelming urge to protect whoever this guy was. "People round here will tell you that I'm nuts about cars but there's only one that I'm loyal to. She's a 1967 Chevy Impala, used to be my dad's. He gave her to me on my sixteenth birthday. What a gift that was." Dean noticed that as he continued to talk about his 'baby' while he patched this stranger up, the shaking of the kids hands became less and less. "Alright, this might sting a bit." Dean said as he poured some peroxide onto a washcloth to clean the kids' hands. His hands were cut and bloody and at least a few fingers looked swollen.

Dean gently placed the washcloth over the kids' right hand and began to wash away the blood. He never expected the reaction to his touch.

The kid lashed out and punched Dean square in the jaw. "What the hell?" Dean asked, putting a hand to his now throbbing jaw.

The kid scrambled to get up on clumsy legs and then took off out of the shop. Dean put some ice on his jaw to help with the swelling and then got back to work. As the day went on no matter what, he couldn't get that poor kid off his mind so he decided to close shop early and then drove around looking for him. After all, it was a pretty small town and there weren't very many places to hide but Dean had no luck and couldn't find the kid.

The next afternoon around three, Dean heard the bell in the office and walked out there, shocked to see the kid standing there. "You're back." Dean said surprised.

The kid looked up and Dean saw that his face was dirty and there were tears making their way down his bruised cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay." Dean said noticing that the kid was looking around in a rather paranoid fashion. "Is someone after you?" Dean asked, his protective side taking over.

Slowly the kid nodded.

"Well don't worry, they won't hurt you. Not while I'm here." Dean reached out a hand. "C'mon."

The kid hesitated. "Sam! You seriously don't want to play hide and go seek with me today!" Another man shouted. "Because when I find you, I'll make you wish you'd never left."

Dean instantly noticed how Sam's face paled. "C'mon," Dean said offering his hand again. Sam took it and Dean led Sam to his office in the back of the shop. Just as Dean got Sam seated, the bell rang.

"Excuse me! Need some help here!" Dean realized it was the same voice that had been calling for Sam.

"Stay here." Dean ordered before walking out to the front of the shop. "Hi, how can I help you?" Dean asked schooling his features.

"Was wondering if you saw my son? He's tall, shaggy hair, wearing jeans and an older sweat shirt." The man asked.

"No, can't say that I have." Dean replied. He knew just from seeing the bruises on Sam's face that this guy was bad news and he had no intention of letting him near the frightened kid weather they were related or not.

"Really, because I could have sworn I saw him run in here." The man said not truly believing Dean.

"You must have seen wrong or he must have left, either way I haven't seen him." Dean answered. "Anyways, I've got a lot of work to do so if you don't mind…"

"Fine but if you see him, call me. He really shouldn't be out on his own." The man said handing Dean a business card.

Dean took it and watched the man leave. "Yeah, like that's going to happen." Dean said throwing the piece of paper away. He walked back to his office and slowly opened the door. "Sam, Sam, its okay. He's gone."

Sam was sitting squished between a filing cabinet and the wall, shaking with tears streaming down his face. Dean walked over and kneeled down in front of him. "Hey, it's okay. He's gone, you're safe now." Dean said reassuringly.

The look in Sam's eyes broke Dean's heart. He had never considered himself emotional or a softie but there was something about this kid that just did him in.

"C'mon, you're safe now." Dean repeated. "Just let me close up the shop and then I'll take you home."

Sam started to shake more at that and Dean realized what he'd said. "Oh Sam, no, don't worry, I'm not going to take you back to that guy. I meant we'd go to my house. You look like you could use a hot shower and a warm meal."

Sam looked hesitant and then slowly started to ease himself out of the confined space. Dean closed the shop and then led Sam to the Impala. Sam sat in the front passenger seat, with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting against the window.

"Well, we're here." Dean said pulling into his drive way. Dean unlocked the front door and let Sam in. "It's not much but its home. Do you want to take a shower or eat first?" Dean asked.

When Sam made no move to answer, Dean came up with a solution.

"Why don't you go take a shower and then I'll patch you up because something tells me that the bruises on your face aren't the only things that guy did to you." Dean explained.

He can't know, he'll hate me Sam thought fearfully.

"Here, I'll show you where the bathroom is and I'll get you some clothes. They might be a little short but they'll be cleaner and more comfortable than the ones you have on." Dean got Sam a change of clothes and a towel and then left him to shower in private.

Sam watched Dean close the door and sank down on the toilet. He was scared, no, he was petrified. He'd just ran away from Frank… and this Dean guy, so far he seemed nice enough but he knew what 'normal' people thought of people like him. While Sam hoped Dean was different because he seriously needed someone, he didn't get his hopes up.

Sam eased his bruised and battered body off the toilet seat and turned on the water, letting the heat pound his aching back. He didn't want to make Dean mad so he kept it short and then quickly changed into the sweats Dean had given him.

"Feel better?" Dean asked when Sam emerged into the kitchen.

Sam nodded wanting to please Dean.

"Let me get you fixed up and then I'll get you something to eat." Dean smiled softly as he pointed to the couch.

Sam sat down and stared at the beige carpet. Dean grabbed his first aid kit and sat down on the coffee table across from Sam. They sat in silence as Dean bandaged Sam's bruised hands. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Dean reassured as he lifted Sam's shirt. Sam averted his eyes, ashamed of what he knew Dean would see. "Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed when he saw the mix of healing and fresh scars and burns on Sam's chest. "That guy, did he do this to you?" Dean asked anger in his voice.

Sam shrank back against Dean's harsh tone of voice.

Dean realized Sam's train of thought and corrected it instantly. "I'm not mad at you. Man, those have to hurt like a bitch." Dean said sympathetically. He let Sam's shirt fall back in place as he dug around in his kit for some burn cream.

Sam winced but refused to cry as Dean gently rubbed the burn cream on.

"Sorry." Dean said, feeling bad for inflicting more unnecessary pain on the poor kid. "Here, take these." Dean said handing Sam some Tylenol after he was done.

Sam looked hesitant.

"They'll help with the pain." Dean explained before getting Sam set up in the guest room. "You look wiped Sam, why don't you try to get some sleep?" Dean suggested. "We'll get you some food later."

Sam lay back against the bed and rested his head on the pillow. Dean covered Sam with a blanket and watched as Sam seemed to burrow himself underneath the covers as if he was trying to hide away from the world.

Dean was lying on his bed, working on his laptop after having checked on Sam who was still sleeping when he heard a terrified scream come from the guest room. He quickly set his laptop down and raced to the guest room. Sam was lying on the bed, shaking and sobbing.

"Sam?" Dean questioned quietly. "Are you okay?"

Sam shook his head no.

"What is it?" Dean asked kneeling next to the couch.

Sam put his head in his hands and continued to cry.

Dean sat down next to Sam and before he realized what he was doing, he had his arms wrapped around Sam and was trying to soothe away his tears. "Shh, I've got you. You're safe here. Shh, it's okay." He whispered.

Sam felt Dean's arms pull him close and instead of feeling fists beating against his already bruised skin, he felt safe as he breathed in the scent of Dean's leather jacket and aftershave and he found himself snuggling closer to Dean. He hadn't felt like this in years, if ever.

Dean didn't know how long they sat there but eventually Sam pulled away and wiped his sleeve across his face. "You wanna talk about it?" Dean asked, silently hoping he'd say no. He wasn't very good with emotions or what he called 'chick flick moments'.

Sam shook his head no.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you hungry?" Dean asked, slowly getting used to the fact that Sam apparently did not talk.

Sam nodded.

Dean got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge. "Let's see, I could make hotdogs." Dean said pulling out the hotdogs and then the buns from the drawer next to the fridge. "What do you like on yours?" Dean asked, also grabbing the cheese, onions, ketchup and mustard.

Sam shrugged. Normally he just got scraps that even the dogs wouldn't touch. He sat at the bar watching Dean cook the meal. It had been a long time since he'd been allowed anywhere except the bedroom.

"Alright, dinner's ready." Dean smiled as he put a plate down in front of Sam.

Sam instantly started to eat as fast as he could. He didn't think Dean would take it away from him but still…

"Woah, slow down Sam! Don't choke, dude." Dean smiled. "No one's going to take it."

Sam's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he slowly put his food down.

Dean smiled affectionately at him. "You're a pretty good kid Sam. I like you."

You wouldn't think that if you knew the truth Sam thought sadly.

Dean woke the next morning to the smell of coffee filtering through the tiny house. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he made his way out to the kitchen to see Sam up and sitting at the kitchen table quietly sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Sam started to get up and put his cup back as if he expected Dean to be mad. "Good stuff, hunh?" Dean smiled as he poured himself his own cup. "How'd you sleep?"

Sam shrugged.

"Hmm, you're good in the kitchen." Dean commented as he sipped his coffee. "So Sam, I have to go into work today."

Sam's face looked fallen and he slowly got up from the table.

"Sam, wait, I'm not kicking you out or anything like that." Dean said standing up too.

Sam turned around and looked at Dean before fixing his gaze on the floor.

"What I was going to ask you was if you wanted to come to work with me or if you wanted to stay here?" Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "So which one is it?"

Sam pointed to Dean.

"Alright, I call first shower." Dean grinned. "Make yourself at home."

Thank you Sam sighed as he returned to the table to finish his coffee. Dean walked down the hall and grabbed his work clothes before heading into the bathroom. He left the door unlocked just in case Sam needed something while he was in the shower. Sam, he was an interesting kid and it was clear that something bad had happened to him. Dean wondered if Sam had been mute all his life or if it was due to some traumatic experience. Dean wanted to know about Sam's story and who that guy was but something told him not to push for answers, Sam would tell him, one way or another when he was ready. Just as common sense, Dean knew he'd also have to get Sam checked out at a doctor's office, etc. He laughed quietly at himself, he'd never even considered having a family before and now he was planning on taking care of a teenage boy.

Wanting to save some hot water for Sam, Dean cut his shower short and was walking back into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. "Okay, you can go take a shower if you want and then we'll go." Dean said.

Sam nodded and hurried with his own shower, not wanting to keep Dean waiting.

Dean considered having Sam sit at the front desk to assist costumers but he didn't think that would go so well for two reasons. One, with Sam's whole mime thing going on, he wasn't sure how comfortable the kid would be and second, if that guy showed up again, he didn't want Sam to see him and vice versa so he had Sam sit next to him on a stool while he worked, wondering what the hell he was going to do with the kid.

The day at the shop was busy for Dean. He had two intake manifolds to fix and he had to get started on rebuilding a costumer's engine. "Hey Sam, ya hungry yet?" He asked wiping his hands off and looking at the clock.

Sam nodded.

"Kay, let's go grab something." Dean replied locking the door.

They went to the diner down the street for lunch and Dean introduced Sam to the friendly waitress, Candy, as one of his old friends. She bought it and let the boys be on their way.

The week passed much the same as the first day. Sam would go to work with Dean from eight till five and then they would head back to Dean's apartment. Dean thought it was a little weird that the guy hadn't come by again but he figured it was just as well but then, one day it happened…

"Hey Sam, there's some books in the front office. Can you go grab them for me? They're right on the desk." Dean asked as he tested his brake job. What the hell is taking him so long Dean wondered before he heard the commotion coming from the front office.

--

So, this is my first story that I've posted on here. I have the next part already written so hopefully I'll get it up soon. Please read and review and let me know what you think of it so far just don't be too harsh please... :) Thanks.