Pocketful of Miracles - Chapter 1
Title: Pocketful of Miracles - Chapter 1
Author: hevyyd
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3,240
Warnings: sort of wincest?, character death, language, torture, violence, emotional hardship and trauma, I reserve the right to spring things with no warning.
Summary: Dean has lived his entire life alone, he lost his parents to a fire and was never adopted or placed into foster care. When he moves to a new city and responds to a job add he meets Sam, a friendly, gorgeous older man who he feels instant gravity towards. But Sam and his father John have their own dark secrets, and Dean's world is about to get a lot more complicated.
The noonday sun was harsh, but that was to be expected for Lawrence, Kansas in the middle of the summer. Dean reached for the bottle of water placed on the workbench next to the car he was working on and took a long, deep drink. He could feel tiny droplets of sweat dancing down his skin, the warmth radiating from the metal engine of the 67 Chevy Impala beneath him, the glare of the sun reflected from it's midnight coat. He paused and exhaled a deep sigh before bending over the beautiful piece of machinery once again, engrossed in her maintenance.
"What are you still doing here ya idjit?" Called a gruff, familiar voice from across the lot. Dean looked up from the engine to see Bobby Singer, his boss, walking towards him, trucker cap permanently affixed upon his head, casting a shadow over his worn features.
Dean walked over to Bobby and smiled, "Just giving baby some extra TLC, Bobby, you know how she gets when I see other women." The Impala didn't actually belong to Dean, but Bobby had promised the boy he wouldn't sell it to a soul when he first started working at the garage in his senior year of high school. Dean had always felt an special bond with the car, and insisted that for every vehicle he serviced that came through Singer Salvage, he give his "baby" extra time. Bobby had also promised that when Dean could afford it, she would be his. That was five years ago today, and in another few months Dean would have enough saved away to make the old man an offer he couldn't refuse.
"I actually came to talk to you about that," Bobby said with a chuckle, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a silver key. As he handed it over, Dean could tell with a glance it was made to fit the ignition of his baby. "Happy birthday boy."
"What?!" Dean started, eyes going wide, hardly able to believe what was happening, "How much do I owe you?" He didn't have his money on him, but surely Bobby didn't mean to just give the car away, did he?
"She's yours Dean," the older man said with a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Five years today you've worked for me, slaved over every hunk o' junk that ever did come through my shop, scrimping and saving to buy her from me. But today is your twenty second birthday son, and she's your gift." Bobby removed his hand from Dean's shoulder and looked out towards the horizon with a wistful expression, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I know how much you've saved Dean, and I'm telling you right now that there are better things to be done with that much money than buy a car from me, no matter how gorgeous a machine she may be."
"Dean," Bobby said, turning back to face the younger man, "It's time for you to move on. Go out and see the world, go to college and get yourself a real job. Meet someone, start a family, anything you like." Dean could feel himself choking up, but didn't dare say a thing and betray his feelings, Bobby had been like a father to him his whole life, a father he'd never actually had. "You can't stay here forever son, it's time to live it up."
Dean took a step forward and wrapped Bobby in his arms, embracing him in a tight hug. "Thank you Bobby," Dean said softly, "Thank you for everything. Thank you so much."
"Dean?" The older man began.
"Yeah Bobby?"
"Your sweatin all over me son." Bobby growled with a laugh, even as Dean unattached himself from him and the both of them shared a long, hearty laugh. Dean lowered the hood on his baby, now truly his baby, before heading inside the office with Bobby to grab his last paycheck, collect his things, and bid the old man farewell with all the heartfelt gratitude he could muster. As Dean drove the Impala off of the lot Bobby reached for his office phone and dialed a number, his expression hardening, waiting in silence for the call to be answered.
When someone finally picked up he spoke in low, serious tones, "Yes.... Uh huh... That's right..... Of course I gave it to him ya idjit, it was yours after all.... He'll probably be heading your way soon, he's your responsibility now, should have always been..... Yeah.... Yeah, I know.... Screw you too."
*
When Dean returned home to his tiny apartment he set about finding a new place to live and job to support himself when he got there. He didn't have much, and for once he was grateful for growing up a ward of the state, it would be easy to pack up everything and move out at a moments notice. Everything he owned would fit in the trunk of the Impala. Soon after beginning his search he found a help wanted add for a Secretary and Information Jockey position for a firm in Wichita. Lucky me, that was fast, Dean thought as he dialed the number on his phone.
"Hello, you've reached Winchester and Sons. Research, Recovery, and Removal, this is Sam, how can I help you?" Dean was surprised at how young the man on the other line sounded, he couldn't have been more than a few years older than himself, but if he was the Sons part of the business that would make sense, he supposed.
"Yes, hi there." Dean started, "I'm calling about the position opening? my name is Dean, by the way." He leaned back in his chair, trying to stay calm and collected, being nervous never helped when trying to get yourself a new job.
"Right, the job..." Sam said, trailing off, causing Dean to worry for just a moment. "That's something I can't help you with, my dad handles all of the hiring." Sam paused again, and Dean could hear the sound of papers being shuffled about over the phone. "Tell you what, why don't I schedule you an appointment so you can come in and have a proper interview? Are you in Wichita?"
"No, actually, I'm in Lawrence," Dean said, sitting up straight again, he was glad this was going so well. "But I'm looking to relocate, I hope that isn't a problem."
"Not at all." Sam said with a warm tone, "Do you have a place to stay yet?"
"Nope." Dean laughed, "I'm sort of taking things as they come."
"Well then why don't we meet for coffee or something when you get here and I can show you around? There are a bunch of affordable listings near the office. Once your settled in we can worry about that interview, sound good?"
"That sounds awesome!" Dean couldn't believe his luck. This way easier than he thought it would be.
"I'll call you on my cell then, so you'll have my number. it's a date, can't wait to meet you Dean." Sam hung the phone up before Dean had a chance to respond, or even think for that matter. A few moments later his parting remark came crashing down on Dean;
It's a date.
Dean could feel his face flush immediately, and stood up to grab a glass of water to calm himself back down. Cool your jets man, Dean thought to himself, there's no way he actually asked you out on a date, it's just a figure of speech. Besides, that Sam guy didn't handle himself like he was gay at all... The more Dean mulled it over the more he was able to dismiss the silly notion as just that, silly. Dean wasn't gay either, strictly bi-curious, he'd looked at gay porn a couple of times and it was okay, but that's as far as his experience with men went.
He had to admit thought, Sam did sound really hot.
*
Damn, this guy is hot! Dean thought as he pulled the Impala into the Starbucks parking lot where he had agreed to meet Sam. The two had been conversing on the phone just a moment before Dean arrived so he would know who to walk up to. The older man was wearing low rise sweat pants and a USMC hoodie, his medium length brown hair fell down across his chiseled face perfectly. The light sheen of sweat trickling across a hint of Sam's exposed chest and the headphone's hanging around his neck suggested he had just finished up jogging or maybe a work out at the gym.
As Dean got out of the car Sam flashed him a big smile and his brown eyes lit up with a warm glow. They clasped one another outreached hands and gave a firm, strong handshake. "Okay," Sam said with a laugh, "Dad will like you, that's for sure!"
"Good to know!" He and Dean shared a laugh before heading inside, as natural as though they had known one another for years. "So were you jogging or something?" Dean asked they got into the queue and waited.
"Working out, actually." Sam replied, "We've got something of a home gym at the office, fitted with the works, it's great."
"So, a fitness nut?" Dean teased.
"Totally." Sam said with an easy smile.
"Well it shows." Dean complimented, taking the chance to give Sam a once over now that they stood shoulder to shoulder. More like head to shoulder, Dean thought, he's a behemoth! From this close Dean could tell that Sam was all ripped muscle, with a hard, lean body. The subtle scent of Sam's sweat combined with his antiperspirant made Dean blush as he flashed him a nervous smile before looking away.
To his surprise Sam only muttered a quick, "Thanks." before looking away just as quickly, Dean could have sworn he caught a subtle blush on the mans face. They stood in an awkward silence for a time until ordering their drinks and sitting down, where they once again engaged in conversation as though nothing had happened. Dean learned that Sam was a Marine just like his father before him, and that after his tour had ended he went straight into Law School and had earned his Master's. After that the two of them had gone into business together.
"That's some skill set." Dean commented, finishing off his coffee.
"It is what it is," replied Sam, rolling off the compliment with nonchalance that befitted a man of his confident stature, "How about you, Dean?" Sam asked, a twinkle in his eye, a mischievous grin gracing the corners of his full lips, "What's your skill set entail?"
Dean managed to hide his blush with a cough, hiding his face behind his hand. Okay, Dean thought, now he's testing me for sure! Dean knew a flirt when he heard one, he'd exhausted every one in the book and made up new one's throughout the years. Deciding to play along and flirt right back with the gorgeous man in front of him, Dean sat back in his chair and gave Sam an easy smile. "I've got five years of experience as a mechanic, if it's got a motor, I can fix it. I suppose you could say I'm good with my hands."
This time it was Sam's turn to raise an eyebrow in interest. "Well," he said, standing up, "I'm sure I'll be testing that for myself soon enough, but in the meantime why don't we scope out some apartments for you while we wait for my dad to get into the office?"
"Sounds like a plan!" Dean said, standing up himself. Job or no job, things were going great with Sam, and that made today a good day. Who knows? Dean mused, I've never thought about it before, but if he's this cool I wouldn't mind having an older boyfriend.
*
Looking at places with Sam moved fast enough, and after taking a quick break for lunch Dean had found the perfect place to settle down. A little one bedroom with a killer view, within walking distance of a gym, but the real selling feature was the homemade pie shop, a real mom and pop joint, just next door. The scent of cinnamon and apple's wafting up through his bedroom window might have been a deciding factor. A few quick phone calls and a meeting later the place was his, ready to be filled with all two boxes of his things.
"Is that really all of your stuff?" Sam remarked as the two of them carried Dean's belongings up the stairs.
"Yup, I grew up as a ward of the state, so I never really had much to call my own." Dean replied in an offhand manner.
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking." Sam seemed genuinely curious.
"My parents died in a house fire when I was a few months old." Dean said, his tone neutral.
"I'm so sorry man," Sam said dejectedly, "But what about adoption or foster care?"
"Nobody wanted me."
A silence filled the air between then, causing the void to grow until the discomfort was deafening. Sam wanted to say something, but what? It's true he knew what it was like to lose someone to a house fire, that's how his mother and baby brother had died when he was a child. But to live your whole life unloved, unwanted? He couldn't begin to imagine the emptiness Dean must have felt.
Sam set the box down next to Dean and looked away for a moment, surveying the tiny room the younger man would be calling his own. "That's all over now," Sam said with finality, "My dad should be back at the office by now, let's get you that job. Nobody is ever unwanted, and as far as I'm concerned your a friend already, a good one." He extended his hand to Dean, who shook it with a warm, heartfelt smile.
Dean knew what it was like to have someone go out of there way to make you feel appreciated and loved, Bobby had done it for him his whole life, but seeing Sam, a man who he had just met this morning, do the same thing made Dean's world seem like a brighter place. He held Sam's hand tight, "Sounds like a plan."
*
John Winchester was everything Dean expected him to be and somehow much, much more. He was handsome for a man nearing fifty, with graying hair and a coarse, but short beard, dark eyes, and an iron hard build. Better still he took to Dean just as quickly and easily as Sam had, and after deciding to hire Dean on the spot, the three of them retired to the flat above the office and stayed up late into the night drinking beers, watching sports, and having a grand time.
When Dean finally left, it was long after midnight, and the night air was crisp and cool, and Dean's breath formed a fine mist as he walked the short distance from the Winchester office to his small apartment. He took a hard right to duck through an alleyway, but stopped cold as he hard the sound of heavy, labored breathing and the sound of garbage being rummaged about. "Hello?" Dean called into the darkness, not wanting to be scared by some bum going for a midnight stroll.
The moon ducked behind the clouds as Dean heard the sound again, and the alley grew even darker and more foreboding. Despite every fiber in his being screaming at him to run, Dean continued down at a slow pace, his heart thundering in his ears. Out of the darkness a clawed hand lashed out and threw Dean against the wall, causing him to see stars as his head slammed against the bricks hard. He crumpled to the ground in a heap.
Above him stood a man, or at least Dean thought it was a man, but he couldn't be sure. It's posture was all wrong, his form twisted and hairy, and it snarled at him from behind a toothy maw and gleaming yellow eyes. With a deft motion it tore through his shirt with sharp claws, rending some of his flesh along with the fabric and causing him to scream in pain. He tried to shield himself with his arms and flee but the creature tore at him again, carving into before slamming him against the wall again, sending his brain reeling into the darkness.
He could feel the white hot pain burning in his chest as it was torn open, but just as he was about to lose focus he heard Sam call out to him and the sound of a gunshot ring out like thunder. The creature yelped in pain once before slumping to the ground in a silent pile.
Dean was sure Sam stood above him, shaking at him, yelling for him to stay awake even as he slipped further and further away from his warmth, there was a light inside of his heart, soft, warm, and inviting. Dean let go and fell towards the light, basking in it's glow as it pushed away the pain, the fear, the confusion, leaving only peaceful bliss.
*
When the light faded Dean was lain out on a couch, his shirt had been removed and his wounds had been bandaged. He felt sore, a little, stiff, but no more worse for wear. Turning, he saw that John and Sam were sitting a table speaking in low voices. When Sam noticed that Dean had awoken he walked over and knelt by his side. "Hey there man." he said, his voice raw and his eyes bloodshot, "How are you feeling?"
"Not dead." Dean coughed out with a shrug, his ribs ached a little as he did so, and Sam placed a hand on his chest to steady him. When his hand lingered longer than it should have Dean looked up in confusion, rather than the lustful glances he was expecting, Sam looked concerned and baffled.
"Hey," he said quietly, "Can I change your bandages?"
Dean nodded and let Sam sit him up as John walked over to join them, the two of them quickly unbound his chest and gasped slightly as the last of the cloth fell away. Looking down, Dean saw that pristine, smooth flesh had replaced where bloody gashes had been before he had fallen unconscious. Quickly removing his other bandages, not a single scratch remained on Dean to remind him of the creature that had attacked him.
"Speaking of which," Dean said aloud. "What the hell was that thing?!"
Rather than answering him, John and Sam stared at Dean in bewilderment, their eyes mixed with confusion, relief, and distrust. Dean felt like covering himself, as though the two men were trying to bore into him with their eyes. It made him uncomfortable. "Um, guys." He began again.
John's eyes shifted to Sam as he whispered, "But the werewolf attacked him, I saw it, so why..." He made to say more but Dean's brain came to a screeching halt.
"Werewolf?" He asked, a mix of panic and disbelief filling his voice. "No way those can be real, and even if they were, how would you know about something like that anyway?!" Sam looked to his father, who sighed and then nodded, before taking one of Dean's hands in his own.
"That's our business Dean. We kill monsters."