Chapter Text
“Kid…what the hell are you doing in my basement?”
Sam opened one lazy eye, blinking sleep from his recently closed lashes. Inhaling deeply, he stretched and yawned loudly before turning to address the intruder. Based on the ring of keys in his right hand and the mop held defensively in his left, he was the Crawford Hall janitor. After all, that was the building he was hiding out in.
“Well, would you believe me if I told you I was just a student who couldn’t afford housing?” Sam said, voice rough from what had been more of a nap than actual human sleep. He’d fallen asleep around 1 a.m., and the clock above the janitor now barely sometime past 3 a.m. “‘Cause that’s pretty much it.”
The honey blonde man carefully lowered the mop and waltzed up to where Sam was laying, in the far corner on the cold concrete huddled up in the sleeping bag Dean had given him when he graduated high school last May. It was always appreciated in the colder months, especially this frigid winter.
“So, do you hang out in basements often?”
“What? No, I try to do stuff with friends, I just…need to make some,” Sam argued. “What about it?”
“Oh, no offense meant, I too hang out in basements,” The janitor joked, trying to lighten the mood. He could tell Sam was defensive, and he seemed to want to diffuse that for some reason Sam couldn’t figure out. “After all, I am a jani-tour.”
“Jani-tour?” Sam echoed.
“Yes, as in, I'll give a bright kid like you a tour of the school. If you’re up for it, that is,” said the janitor, helping Sam to his feet. Sam now found himself looking down at the man, but he had chihuahua-like energy. Big dog mentality, though the height may not match the attitude. “Haven’t seen you around here before, where’d you come from?”
“Well, I did a semester at Stanford, didn’t love it, so I’m here as a photography major,” Sam divulged. Maybe a bit too trusting for a first meeting, but his mind was still fuzzy. “How long have you been working here?”
“Stanford…long way, huh?” Mused the janitor. “I’ve been here about a year now. Don’t tell me Stanford was so bad you had to come to Springfield University?”
“I just, I don’t want them to…” Sam began, then immediately shut down. He was more loose-lipped because he’d just woken up but in all reality, he didn’t know this man. Some guy being hospitable and friendly enough was enough to make all his training crumble all of a sudden? “So, what’s your name again?”
“Oh! You can call me Gabe, or Gabriel if you’d like,” said Gabe, or Gabriel if you’d like. “And you?”
“Uh, Sam,” Mentally, he smacked himself. What happened to fake names? He was doing really badly at this solo shit. “But you can call me…uh, Sam.”
“Alrighty then, Sammy-”
“I said Sam.”
“And I did not!” Gabe said cheerfully. “Now, about that tour?
“It’s literally three in the morning, dude,” Sam groaned, stifling a yawn. “What kind of tour could you give me that I haven’t had before?”
“Not sure, think you’ll have to find out,” With that, Gabe threw him a playful wink and sauntered back towards the door. Looking back at Sam one more time, he quirked one brow. “Just trust me?”
Sam groaned, ready to turn back over in his sleeping bag. Though, when had he ever not been one to not spring at the opportunity for an adventure?
Ugh, fine.
“Wait up!” Sam yelled. “I’m tangled in my sleeping bag, wait!”
The janitor guffawed, stopping in his tracks. “Oh, now we want to join in on the janitor’s jani-tour?”
“...Yes,” Sam said, voice laced with annoyance and a touch of a grin. “I’d like to be jani-toured around the school, please.”
“Well, kid,” Gabriel said, excitement making his eyes glitter in the dim light. “I think I might just be able to make that happen.”
____________________
“You’re still down here, kiddo?”
Gabe had caught Sam doing his laundry in the basement sink this time, probably not ideal, but at the very least there was lots of room down here to drip dry. It had been about a week since they’d toured the school together, dodging the cameras and entering secret rooms. Gabriel had even introduced him to a supposedly super duper haunted room, but Sam’s EMF detector hadn’t gone off when he visited the next morning between classes.
However, Sam had seen Gabriel a lot this week. Now that he knew to look for a halo of golden brown hair and honey hazel eyes, he greeted Gabe between classes, and sometimes the janitor would take lunch at the same time as Sam so they could spend a few quick minutes chatting.
Sam wasn’t exactly adverse to making new friends…well, he was. He was a wrecking ball, and he would destroy everything in his path eventually. Just like his father had told him he would. After all, he was nothing more than a product of his own environment. It was an inescapable fate.
“Yeah, dude. I told you, student housing is crazy,” Excuse. He knew how to commit credit card fraud, he would be fine with student housing. Plus, the amount of scholarship money he’d gotten…but no, Dean and his father would be able to sniff him out no matter what alias he used. A damp, dank college basement would be as good as he was gonna get. “No point in hoping for better, might as well adjust.”
“You’re breaking my heart here, Sammy.”
"It's Sam.”
“Sam. We’ll get to the nickname thing later, whatever. Right now I’m focused on your molding clothing.”
“It’s not molding!” Sam exclaimed, trying to hide the trash can filled with shirts that hadn’t fully dried and maybe grown a colony or five. Gabe quirked a brow at him, as if saying Really?, and Sam caved. “Fine, yes, some of it isn’t drying. Just a little damp down here.”
“So, I found this dog the other day-” Gabriel began.
“You have a dog?!” Sam exclaimed gleefully. “Oh my god, what kind?”
“Think he’s a Terrier. Named Jack.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam scoffed. “How original.”
“Hey, my other option was Terri.”
That got a genuine laugh out of Sam. The janitor was just such a breath of fresh air to him that he was unsure what he’d do if he were to find a job elsewhere. The thought made a pit open up in the bottom of Sam’s stomach. It made him feel almost…like he was afraid of losing someone. It took everything in him not to smack himself across the face.
This is exactly what I was not supposed to do. Get attached to someone, anyone.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Gabriel joked, snapping Sam out of thought. “I found this dog the other day, and I took him home. Thing is, I’m not really…a pet type of guy.”
“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” Sam asked.
“Well, I didn’t know if you wanted housing in exchange for helping a guy out with his brand spankin’ new dog!” Gabriel beamed at Sam. When he was met by a gaping mouth and surprised expression, Gabriel put his hands in front of him, a white flag of sorts. “I’m not trying to be weird, I just hate to see you down here. All your shit’s going to get ruined, kid.”
“I think I’ll be fine, Gabe,” Sam sighed, not wanting to put his friend- rather, the janitor out. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“All you gotta do is not wreck the place, keep it tidy,” Gabriel shrugged. “But if you can’t be good…”
“Hey, I can be good!” Sam exclaimed, not truly registering his words until after they’d slipped from his lips. Yes, he could be good, but why would he want to be good for Gabe? He tried to amend his statement. “Uh, I am good.”
Gabe let out a hearty laugh at the recanted sentence. “I’m so completely certain you are, kid. Now, you gonna keep living out of a basement and a sleeping bag, or do you want a choice between Egyptian cotton or silk sheets under your ass tonight?”
Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever tried either kind. Blinking like an owl, he stood stupidly in place, unsure what to say.
“I- I don’t…” Sam trailed off. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gabe. Which, really should have been his first red flag. It was that he didn’t want to, no, moreso that he couldn’t make any attachments. People died when he did that.
“You smell like spores, dude,” Gabriel interrupted his train of thought. “The showerhead at the apartment mimics rainfall, just sayin’.”
Sam stared at the janitor in wonder. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you well enough, Sammy,” Gabe threw him a quick wink, then raised his hands in surrender. “But hey, if you want to stay here, I won’t pressure you. Just know, the door’s always open.”
Gabriel went about the rest of his night, putting away his cleaning supplies while Sam tried desperately to scrub the mold out of his soiled shirts. None had gotten to his favorite clothing…yet. But the janitor was right. Sam couldn’t keep living down here in the cold. He’d end up catching something, maybe pneumonia or a nasty lung infection.
Dammit. Now he had to nut up and accept the offer. Sam turned to Gabe, mouth open to say something along the lines of Hey, thanks for the offer and for saving my ass, I’ll definitely move into a nice warm apartment with you, only to be met by warm honey-amber eyes already trained on him.
“What?” Sam asked. He cursed internally. Not what he’d meant to say.
“Nothing, just waiting for you to change your mind,” Gabe smirked, toying with his key ring. “Car’s got a heater, if you’re into not freezing your ass off in damp college basements.”
“...Just for a little while,” Sam gave in. “Until I can get up on my feet, y’know?”
“Sure, kid. Don’t know how long that’ll be,” Nudging Sam with his elbow, Gabe shot him a good natured grin. “But ‘till then, we’re gonna have a grand time!”
Gathering Sam’s things was quick work. It was merely a half-full duffel bag and the musty sleeping bag Dean had gifted him. Egyptian cotton or silk sheets aside, he wasn’t about to leave his brother’s gift behind. Gabe happily shouldered the duffel bag, swinging his key ring in circles on his index finger while whistling a tune. The janitor seemed so blasé about the whole situation, having just invited a practical stranger into his home over, what, pity?
Gabe opened the car door for him, gesturing him into the somehow very in character lime green Volkswagon bug. He felt almost as if he was being courted. Almost. Even so, Sam appreciated the gesture as his freezing hands began to defrost when the heater kicked on in the car. Holding long fingers in front of the vents, the younger man let out a sigh of relief at the warmth flooding his body. He tried not to blush when Gabriel laughed, but did shoot the other man a good-natured glare.
“What?” Sam asked. Again.
“Nothing, kiddo. You’re just funny as hell,” Gabe started up the car and began to drive out of the Crawford Hall parking lot, which in all honesty, was much further than Sam had been in quite a while. The janitor seemed to note the panic on Sam’s face. “What’s up, Sambo?”
“Sambo? That one’s new,” Sam chuckled. “Just haven’t been out in a while. Nerves.”
“Agoraphobic?”
“No, more…not wanting to be found,” Sam ended the conversation there, not wishing to expand further.
“Understood,” Gabe said sternly. Thing was, Sam believed him. He sounded like he did understand. “I’ll keep you hidden, safe. Tip top secret, Sammy.”
He gave Gabe a strange sort of look, one that tried to ask every question he was too scared to ask at the moment. Why are you doing this? Why protect me? Why take me in? Why?
Gabe just kept looking at the road, eyes steady and…a brilliant gold, Sam noted. They were almost unearthly, a color he’d never truly seen eyes come in before. So focused like that, he looked almost regal. Powerful. Something like lightning zinged through Sam’s chest, making his whole body shudder in his seat.
“You good?” Gabe asked, concerned molten sunsets now focused solely on him, the road seemingly forgotten.
“Yeah, focus on driving, not on my freezing ass,” Sam replied, brushing him off. The warmth in his chest was only spreading by the second, and Sam decided to attribute it to a really good heating system. “Just warming up is all.”
Gabe shot him an unconvinced look, but said nothing. Just went back to driving steadily along, the heater puttering along with the car engine.
They pulled into the parking lot of a small apartment complex, and while it may not have looked like much to some, it was everything to Sam. It was potentially a home. Stability. Somewhere he wouldn’t be leaving in three days.
“You ready to meet Jack?” Gabe’s voice derailed his train of thought.
“Oh my god, yes,” Sam stressed. He wanted to meet the dog so fiercely he couldn’t put it into words.
“You’re gonna have to give up heater privileges for about a minute while we go up, that okay?” Tilting his head in a question, Gabriel threw him a cheeky grin. “Just wanna make sure you won’t freeze your ass off on your way there.”
“My ass is fine, Gabe. C’mon, I wanna meet the little guy!” Sam threw the car door open and practically sprinted over to the building, though he was unsure of where exactly he was going. “What’s the apartment number?”
“Six sixty-nine, we gotta take the elevator.”
The elevator ride was uneventful, though Sam couldn’t help but note the electricity that shot up his spine whenever Gabe brushed against his arm. Am I really that starved for touch? He thought to himself, only somewhat miffed. Catching a whiff of strawberries and sweet peppermint, Sam’s head was spinning the whole six floor ride up.
Gabe’s apartment was the last door at the end of the hallway, the ornate red carpeted floor reminding Sam of a nice hotel Dean had taken him to on one Christmas. They’d gotten beaten and berated so badly after, but it had been worth it. He shook the thought from his head, refocusing his attention on the jangling keys in Gabe’s hand, readying themselves to let Sam in. To bring Sam home.
“Ready, kiddo?” Gabe asked, hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah,” Sam replied, more than a little breathless, even more enraptured by the idea of walking through a doorway to a new life. “I am.”
The door opened to the most pathetic, scrawny-looking dog Sam had ever seen in his damn life. He supposed that’s why he got so attached so fast, seeing that stick-thin tail wag at mach speed the moment Sam was in his sights. He felt loved, needed by something. And this something was his to take care of and love right back.
“Oh. My. God, Gabe?” Sam all but squealed, rushing forward into the apartment toward Jack. Picking him up ever so gently, Sam caressed his wiry fur and laughed as the little dog lapped at his cheek. “Gabe, this is fucking insane. He’s so cute, oh my god.”
“Yeah, he’s adorable,” Sam didn’t know who the words were directed at. I mean, Gabe certainly wasn’t looking at the dog when he’d said them. No matter, there was a dog in Sam’s arms and that was all that mattered. “He’s probably hungry, too.”
As if on cue, Sam’s stomach growled. Loudly. He hadn’t eaten today, he’d been busy with schoolwork at lunch and missed his opportunity.
“When have you been eating, by the by?” Gabe asked, as if reading his mind. “Not much food on campus, ‘specially not enough to keep a huge lunk like you going.”
“Hey, who’re you calling a lunk?” Sam protested, trying to redirect the topic.
“No, seriously, when have you been eating?” Gabe asked again, this time more gently. Like he cared. “Just lunch?”
Sam didn’t respond, but it seemed that hanging his head and staring down at his feet was response enough. He kept petting Jack, the dog completely clueless about the sudden tone change.
“Alright, then. I’ll get something whipped up,” Gabe stated, giving no room for protest. “Feeling like Italian?”
“I could go for pasta,” Sam conceded.
“Hm, how about…scampi. You like sea roaches?” Teased the janitor. Sam actually didn’t know. Dean wasn’t a seafood guy, and Sam had never bothered dabbling. “Based on your reaction, I’m guessing you’ve never had it.”
“Not…really. But I’ll try anything you make me,” Sam said honestly. “You seem like you’d be a good cook.”
“With the amount of time I’ve had to learn, I should fucking hope so!” Gabe exclaimed. Whatever that meant, Sam didn’t know. He just laughed, and enjoyed the company.
Sam pulled up a chair, petting the perpetually vibrating dog in his lap as he watched Gabriel cook. It was mesmerizing, and smelled orgasmic. Sam’s mouth was watering the second the minced garlic hit the pan, but the more ingredients were added, the more scents mingled in the air. All of which were admittedly some of the best smells he’d ever hoped to smell in his damn life, if he was honest with himself.
“Gabe, that looks so good…” Sam trailed off, putting the dog on the floor and making grabby hands for the gold plate of food he was being passed. “Is this, is it all for me?”
“Duh, it’s on your plate, Sammy,” Gabe laughed, sounding slightly confused at the question. “No grace, we just eat here.”
Sam shot him a grateful look and took his fork in his hand, poking a shrimp and weaving the prongs into the noodles. They were skinnier than Sam had ever seen noodles be. “What kind of-”
“Angel hair,” Gabe shot him a quick wink. “My favorite. Now, dig in.”
It seemed Gabriel wasn’t going to eat without Sam trying his food first, so he took the chance to take the massive bite off his fork. Dean, I’m so sorry. He’s got you beat. Sam moaned around his food, clenching his fist around his fork and going in for another bite. Then another, and another, until he was done and considering asking for-
“Seconds?” Gabe offered, as if reading his mind. “Plenty left over.”
“If that’s okay. I don’t want to eat you out of house and home,” Sam said quietly, parroting something his father had once said.
“Hm. Somehow, I don’t think you will,” Gabe said decisively, taking his plate and piling it with the same amount of food that he had the first time around. Sam was…grateful for the gesture. He was so much hungrier than he had anticipated. “But if you do, I’ll share my cardboard box with you and Jack. We’ll be a happy little cardboard box family!”
That got a genuine laugh out of Sam. He didn’t register the last part until after he’d taken a bite. Family. Is that what this was? He didn’t know. Sam didn’t want to think about it, so he just finished his food with gusto and immediately began picking up the dishes.
“Whoa there, who died and made you the dish-doer?” Gabe protested.
“Nobody, but you cooked, so I do dishes,” Sam asserted, putting the plates in the sink and his hands on his hips.
Narrowing his eyes, Gabe slowly crossed his arms and frowned. “Fine. But I’m helping. Because I cooked.”
Before Sam could say anything, Gabe had bumped him over with his hip and joined him at the sink. Jack nipped at their ankles as they finished up, trying to pull Sam’s long socks down to pool at his ankles and chewing on Gabe’s exposed toes.
“We need to get him a toy or something,” Sam lamented the loss of a sock, hearing a loud riiiiiiip and seeing Jack prance off with a tuft of fabric like a prize. “Something that is not my socks.”
“Or my feet, preferably,” Gabe grumbled, rubbing his sore toe. Sam yawned and Gabe glanced at the clock. “It’s late as hell, you wanna hit the hay? I can show you to your room.”
“Oh, I can just take the couch,” Sam tried.
“Yeah, sure,” Gabriel drawled. “Get your ass in the fucking room, Sam.”
He was pointing at the first room at the beginning of the hall, the other room being a bit further down.
“The bed’s made, new pillows, whole shebang,” Gabe patted Sam on the back lightly. “Your choice between Egyptian cotton and silk sheets, like I said.”
“...Why are you doing this? Like, actually?”
Gabe’s eyes changed, just for a moment. They looked…almost like they were glowing in the darkened hallway.
“Maybe I just thought you needed a friend,” He shrugged.
“Not good enough. People don’t do this for friends,” Sam said sadly.
“But you would. If you had the means to. I can tell that you would, kid,” Gabe was quiet, but his words resounded with Sam as if he’d shouted them in his ear. “You have good in you. You deserve…a pick-me-up. Something good.”
“Are you that? Something good?” Sam whispered.
Gabe just smiled, eyes sly and certain. “I never said that.”
With that, Gabe turned and walked down the hall to his room. Jack stayed at Sam’s feet, but seemed torn, looking up at Sam for confirmation that they weren’t following.
“Night, Sammy,” With a wave over his shoulder, Gabe didn’t close his door behind him. His door remained cracked open, just enough for Sam to see a dim green light emanating from within.
“Night, Gabe.”
Sam spent a solid five minutes in his room deciding between sheets, before finally settling on silk. They were smooth and rich-feeling on his skin, and Sam thought maybe he could get used to them along with the goose down comforter he was cuddling with.
Sam slept more deeply that night than he had in weeks, months, maybe. Fitfully, yes, but he slept deeply. Wrapped in silken sheets and downy feathered covers, Sam slept better than he thought he maybe ever had before, this time with a dog at his feet and a friend who cared one room away.