Chapter Text
You watch your Alpha’s chest rise and fall in his sleep. He wore himself out, so you know he won’t be waking up any time soon. Actually, he wore you both out. The only reason you aren’t sound asleep next to him, is that you can’t quiet your mind long enough to find any rest.
Giving you his knot always makes Dean sleep a little sounder afterwards. His breathing is lighter and he gives himself more than four hours to recharge. You love being the person who can bring him even a little peace. He deserves it. However, nights in which he knots you have an opposite effect on your sleep.
The slight soreness from where his knot locked into you and the mess leaking out of you keep you awake. While it’s not the most comfortable situation, it is not the physical sensations that keep you up. It is the threat of what could come out of it.
You slip out of your shared bed and pad over to the spare washroom down the hall. The boys do not use it. As a result, you have claimed it as your own. Your clutter of ‘girlie products’ on the counter leave no room for anyone else’s belongings. So, they stay away and give you your space.
You open the cabinet under the sink and dig around near the back pipes for your bottle of pills. You know how ridiculous this is. With how well you have hidden these drugs, anyone would assume they were illicit or addictive by nature. Instead, your dirty little secret is not one of addiction but rather self-preservation.
Suppressants have a bad reputation. The drug manufacturers are constantly being sued or defamed in the media. New laws and regulation make acquiring suppressants difficult, especially for claimed Omegas. It is just the latest way society is trying to keep Omegas under the thumb of oppression.
The only reason you have any in supply is because you acquired them through less conventional channels. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you got them off the black market, but it wasn’t exactly a reputable establishment. But, you have to do what you have to do.
Omegas are expected to go off suppressants as soon as they find an Alpha. You thought your Alpha was above such outdated thinking. But as soon as he laid his claim, he laid down the law. No more taking suppressants.
You fought him tooth and nail. It almost tore you apart. It is still a sore subject between you. He’ll still get up and leave the room whenever the issue gets brought back up. He refuses to even discuss it with you. You hate lying to him. You have tried explaining the benefits of staying on the drugs. Suppressants make your heats more bearable and keeps Pups out of the equation. But he wasn’t hearing any of it. No Omega of his is going to be on suppressants. Dean says your heats are his to quell and his alone. And Pups, well that is a whole other issue.
You stopped fighting him on it. It is a losing battle. You let him think you are following his orders. You don’t want to poke the bear. You love him. You may not agree on this one particular issue but you love him. It’s not worth losing the love of your Alpha over something so stupid. So, you keep your suppressants tucked away and out of sight.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, or you.
You sit on the bathroom floor and look over the pink pills that rattle inside the orange bottle. You know you have no reason to be ashamed. It is your body. You are the one who has to bear the consequences of your genetics. You should have a say in how you handle your situation. So, why does it feel as though you are betraying your Alpha?
You take a deep breath then take one of the suppressants. You stand back up and look at yourself in the mirror. “This is for the best,” you try to convince yourself. You want to wash away the sticky mess between your legs. But you don’t want Dean to notice you wiped away his claiming seed. So, you leave it as it is and go back to bed.
The pounding in your chest has subsided since taking your pill. Your calmed heart may give you rest but your mind gives you no peace. You fall asleep and are plagued with the nightmare you have had many times before.
It always starts the same. Dean gets you pregnant. The first part of your nightmare is disguised as your favourite dream. You and Dean have a Pup and are the epitome of a happy little family. Then the darkness sets in. A black cloud looms over your ideal life. You start raising your Pup in the hunting life. You have no choice, the only way to protect it is to train it. In your subconscious mind, your Pup lives a short life and meets a cruel end. The loss tears you and Dean apart. He blames you. You blame yourself. You could never protect your Alpha or your Pup from your own failure.
Dean hasn’t knotted you in a while. So, the nightmares are few and far between. You maintain your suppressant schedule and are able to finally get restful sleep. You curl into your Alpha and let the strength he emanates keep your fears at bay. Despite your disagreements, there is no one who makes you feel more secure and more at home. You would do anything for him, even protect him from his own dangerous desires to expand your pack.
You walk into the bunker with arms full of groceries. Your heat is coming and you needed supplies. You and Dean usually hunker down to ride it out together. The heats are less painful since you’re on suppressants. But, they still require your full attention and proper preparation.
Sam left the bunker a few hours ago. He doesn’t like being here as your scent thickens in the air. He is an Alpha with impeccable restraint, but even he has his limits. So, he stays away.
You walk into the kitchen and see Dean sitting at the table. If you weren’t so distracted balancing your grocery bags, you would have noticed something is off. Dean’s clothing is wet and his eyes are hardened as he nurses a glass of whiskey.
“The store had their rock salt on sale, so I got us a couple bags. They’re kind of heavy. Do you mind running out to the car to get them?” You ask as you absentmindedly put the groceries away.
Dean doesn’t respond. The sound of glass shattering against the metal fridge makes you jump back from your task. You look up to see Dean is now standing and his chest is heaving.
“What the hell? Did you just throw your glass across the room, you freak?” You ask with disbelief. He could have hurt someone. But when you see the fire in his eyes, you realize he doesn’t care.
Dean rounds the counter to loom over you. He is standing so close his wet shirt is pressed up against you. “The pipe in your bathroom burst,” he says through gritted teeth.
“So? I know that is a pain in the ass but why are you so pissed about it? It’s not like…” you trail off as realization hit you. If Dean was digging around under your sink he would have found your suppressants. Your eyes widen but you are unable to speak.
“Yeah… are we all caught up now?” Dean asks with condescension.
“I can explain,” you raise your hands in a vain attempt to ward off his anger.
“You really think I want to hear anything from you right now? Why would I believe a word you say after you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long? I asked you for one goddamn thing and you couldn’t even do that,” Dean seethes.
“You didn’t ask me anything,” you correct him. “It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. You never gave me a choice!” You bite back.
“Don’t get hung up on semantics, Omega. Whether it was a direct order or I said, ‘pretty please with a cherry on top’, doesn’t fucking matter. It was a condition of our bond and you broke that,” he informs you.
“What the hell are you talking about ‘a condition of our bond’? What does that even mean?” Now you’re not only pissed but also confused.
“I never ask you for anything. I let you run around and play hunter. I lose a whole week of my life every time your heat rolls around. I do nothing but give you everything you need to get you through it. But I did it because I thought you needed me . As it turns out, you don’t need me. You’ve been taking care of things all on your own. You don’t know how good you got it. Any other Alpha would never put up with half the shit you do,” Dean says as he stares you down.
The lump in your throat prevents you from responding. Even if you could speak, what would you say? You never knew he felt this way. You never knew he sees you and your heats as a chore. You never knew he sees you as someone he has the right to control. Everything you do, you only do because he lets it happen? How have you never noticed he is every bit the bullheaded and arrogant Alpha his title presumes him to be.
“I’m going to choose to ignore the fact you think you let me play hunter. That is bullshit and you know it. I am good at my job and I’m not even going to dignify that dickhead statement with a response!” You look him in dead in the eye. “What I am more confused about is that I thought you liked helping me through my heats. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me take suppressants so you could experience them in full force. Now you’re telling me they are a waste of your time?” You have to know if you’re hearing him correctly.
“They are only a waste of my time now that I know you’ve been lying to me. I wouldn’t have put in all that useless effort had I known the truth. You don’t need me for your heats, so why should I bother?”
Your heart breaks at the thought that Dean thinks mating with you is ‘useless effort’. “I do need you,” you assure him with desperation in your voice. “The suppressants only make the heats bearable. Without them, I can’t move from the pain. But, I need my Alpha to truly get me through it. You know that,” you state.
You rest your hands on his chest. You want to make contact with your Alpha and re-establish your connection. You don’t want him to feel unwanted or unneeded. He is more than your Alpha, he is the love of your life. Despite his degrading comments, you would give anything to ease the hurt from his eyes.
Dean looks down to where your fingers are curling into his chest. He knows what you’re trying to do. But it won’t work. He has made up his mind. He grips your wrists with bruising force and pushes your hands away from him. You stumble back and catch yourself on the counter. Your left rib almost cracks against the marble. He doesn’t even flinch when you grunt in pain.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that. I think you’ll do just fine,” he mutters as he turns to walk away from you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You say as tears sting your eyes. You hold your side and push yourself back up to a standing position.
“It means, I think it’s time you learn how good you have it, or had it. I’m done. We are fucking done. You think you can manage your heats on your own? Well… have at it. I’d like to see how you fare without me or your precious suppressants,” Dean turns his back to you.
“Wait! You can’t leave me like this,” you plead. If he leaves and takes your suppressant with him, you don’t think you’ll be able to survive your heat on your own.
“Turns out, you’re more resourceful than I ever gave you credit for. You’ll figure something out. You’re not my problem anymore,” your Alpha says as walks out of the kitchen.
You know you should follow him. You know you should beg and promise to be better. But your legs don’t move. Your strength drains out of you and you crumble to the floor. A few minutes later you hear the bunker door open and then slam shut. Your Alpha’s scent still lingers in the air but fades with every passing minute. You still can’t move. You stay curled up on the kitchen floor for a long while.
It is only once the linoleum turns your muscles numb do you get up. Your feet carry you to the washroom. You have to at least check. You know the search will be fruitless, but you have to at least check. You open the washroom door and find the entire room is ransacked. All of your belongings have been pushed onto the floor and float in a shallow layer of water. The mirror is cracked and the cabinet door is ripped off its hinges. You can only imagine the rage that produced such destruction. You’re just glad you weren’t here for the brunt of it.
You look under the sink and, as expected, all of your suppressants are gone. You curse yourself for hiding your entire stash in one place.
You leave the mess behind and stumble to your bedroom. You curl into the sheets that still smell like your Alpha. Your eyes water over as you lay there and wait. You wait for your heat come. You wait for it to kill you.
You wake up sometime later in a pool of your own sweat. You want nothing more than to kick off your sticky clothes and have no barrier between you and cool air around you. But, the ache in your muscles make your limbs hard to move. Your joints are like sandpaper rubbing together. You cry out in unabashed pain as you try taking off your shirt. You know no one is around to hear you, so you don’t feel self-conscious letting all your pain out. By the same respect, since no one is around to hear you, no one is around to help you. You have to do this on your own.
Once you are finally naked you flop back down on the bed and try not to move. You give your tired muscles a break from the strenuous effort of taking off your clothes. It is not until you face unrelenting pain, do you realize how much you take everyday actions for granted.
The ache in your bones and the throbbing in your head is soon overshadowed by a tightening in your lower belly. You brace yourself because this is always the worst part. It’s been a while since you’ve experienced this in its full force, but you remember the pain. Also, you have a feeling that now it will be worse than before. Years of suppressant use can only have aggravated your system. You heat will resurge with an unknown vengeance.
It is up to you to deal with it on your own.
The first day goes by without incident. ‘Without incident’ only refers to the fact that your heat hadn’t killed you yet. You were in too much pain to move. You tried working up the energy to go to the spare bedroom down the hall. It acts as a storage area for boxes of your old things. You were hoping you had an old knotting toy tucked away somewhere. But, you then remembered you tossed them all away after mating with Dean. You thought you would never be without him. You never even bothered getting up from the bed. You tried using your fingers to alleviate the pressure in your core, but the effort hurt. Your desires went unsatisfied and your cries went unanswered.
The second day of your heat was worse. You woke up to chapped lips and clammy skin. Your dry mouth was just enough motivation for you to push past the pain and get out of bed. You only made it to the hallway before you collapsed onto the floor in a combination of exhaustion and debilitating cramps. You stayed there on the hard floor for the rest of the night.
The next morning, you wake up and your head is light and heavy at the same time. You realize it is the effect of going a few days without any food or water. Without Dean to bring you water and forcing you to eat, you don’t have the energy to do it for yourself. You do need him.
You crawl back to your room and find your phone. Through your shaky finger and blurry vision, you finally find his contact information. Your call goes straight to voicemail. You try texting him but you get no response. You call again. Your voice cracks from lack of use as you leave a message. You’re hoping he will at least listen to it before he deletes it. You tell him you’re sorry and how much you need him. You don’t tell him about your slowing heart rate or dangerous body temperature. You want him to come back to you because he wants to, not because he feels as though he needs to.
You lay in bed and cling to your phone for the next hour. It doesn’t make a sound. He’s not coming for you. You always thought he loved you as a person and not just for your genetic type. You didn’t know that tiny pink pills would be your death sentence. You thought you meant more to him than that.
You pull your phone back out and call the one person you know you can rely on. After the first ring, he answers. You don’t mean to but you just start crying incessantly the second you hear his voice. The relief of being heard overwhelms you. He calls your name in a panic as he listens to you sob. You choke down your cries long enough to speak. “Sam please,” you beg. You don’t need to say anything more.
“I’m on my way! I’m less than an hour away. Just hold on,” he assures you. The line goes dead and Sam gets into his car and speeds home. He doesn’t know what happened. You’re in heat. You wouldn’t have called him unless something was very wrong. His first instinct is to call Dean but he assumes Dean would be with you so he doesn’t bother. He can talk to his brother once he’s back at the bunker.
Sam is only in the garage and he can already feel it. Your scent is thick in the air. It’s more powerful than he has ever experienced before. He tightens his jaw and pushes forward. His Alpha instincts are screaming at him. He has the urge to tear down the bunker brick by brick until that sweet scent is wrapped around his knot. But the man in Sam, the man who is your honorary big brother, wants to seek out the broken Omega for another reason. He wants to make sure you are okay. Besides, he knows Dean would never let another Alpha near you in that way.
Sam prowls through the halls until he gets to your room. He grips the door frame as he sees your slick body sleeping naked on the bed. The blankets are kicked onto the floor and the bedsheet is coming off one corner of the mattress. The room is a mess and mimics the distress in the air.
He tries to control his heavy breaths. You roll over on the bed as you stir awake.
“Alpha?” You call when you sense a new scent mixing with your own in the air around you. You know it’s not your Alpha. But your inner Omega is clawing for any release.
You have never addressed Sam by his title. He tries ignoring how it causes his pants to tighten. He doesn’t want this. He can control himself. You are his friend. You are his brother’s Omega. You don’t want him. He can’t do this. He repeats those thoughts in his head hoping it will drown out the impulse to tear you apart.
“Where’s Dean?” Sam asks as his fingers dig deeper into the wooden doorframe. Now he has to physically hold himself back.
“He’s gone,” you say as a sob threatens to break your voice. “He left me,” you continue through your thick tears.
“What do you mean he left you? He wouldn’t leave. You’re in heat,” Sam states with denial. He can’t believe his brother would leave you like this.
“He found out I was on suppressants. He’s teaching me that I need him. I learned my lesson, Sam. But, he won’t come back. He won’t pick up the phone,” you cry as you double over in pain.
Sam takes a deep breath. He leaves from your doorway to go to the kitchen. He can deal with his brother later. The bloodied cracks on your lips and the exhaustion in your voice tells him he needs to take care of you first. He gets you a large glass of water and a bottle of pain meds. He strides over to your bed and stares down at you.
You don’t care you’re completely naked. Now is not the time to be self-conscious. You also feel no danger or vulnerability around this Alpha. Sam would never hurt you.
As he hands you the water, your fingers graze. Sam jerks his hand back. Your skin is fire to the touch. Sam reaches forward and feels your damp forehead.
“Goddamnit, Y/N!” Sam exclaims as he scoops you up and off the bed. You whimper that sudden movement but are too weak to protest properly. “You’re burning up! How long has your fever been like this?” The worry in Sam voice is clear.
You don’t respond. Your head just lulls against his chest. The concept of time hasn’t been your biggest concern lately.
Sam brings you into the only washroom with a tub. He fills it with ice cold water before lowering you inside. Your eyes fly open as the cold water envelopes you. Sam gives you a towel to rest your head on before slipping out of the room to call his brother.
The phone stops ringing and an out of breath Dean picks up. “What do you want, Sammy? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Dean informs his brother.
“What the hell could you possibly be doing right now? What the hell is more important than your half-dead Omega drowning in her own heat? She’s hanging on by a thread, Dean!” Sam barks at his brother.
The other line is silent for a moment. Sam can hear rustling then a door closing softly. “What the hell are you doing back at the bunker?” Dean asks.
“That’s your response? I tell you that your Omega is knocking on death’s door and you’re wondering why I cut my vacation short? What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
“She was on suppressants,” Dean informs his brother as if that excuses his behaviour.
“I know, she just told me. But you think that means you can just leave her for dead?”
“Don’t be dramatic. She’ll be fine. There are lots of Omegas who spend their heats on their own.”
“Not claimed Omegas,” Sam bellows. “Not claimed Omegas who have been on suppressants for who knows how long. He body isn’t used to this. She can’t handle it on her own,” Sam tells Dean what he should already know.
There is another silence over the phone.
“Dean! What the hell are you doing? She won’t make it. Get back here!” Sam pleads with his brother.
“She made her bed. You’re worrying too much. She’ll be fine,” Dean says as though he genuinely believes it. “Like I said, I’m in the middle of something right now. I can’t just leave,” Dean says with a kind of detachment Sam has never heard before.
“Tell me what you’re doing. Make me understand what could be more important. Because if you don’t end this cruel lesson and if you let her go… I’ll take care of her myself,” Sam warns his brother. He hopes the threat of challenging the Alpha’s bond will be enough to snap Dean out of his stubborn defiance. If Sam cannot convince Dean through compassion, he hopes he can appeal to the Alpha’s possessive nature.
Dean takes a moment. He can feel his chest tighten and nostrils flare. But he swallows the jealous urges that are rising within him. “She lied to me, Sammy. She lied and did the one thing I told her not to do. She doesn’t want me to take care of her. She doesn’t want to be honest with me. And, she doesn’t want my Pups. You do what you have to do,” Dean says through a clenched jaw before he hangs up.
Dean throws his phone across the room. It crashes against the wall and smashes to pieces.
“Dean?” A delicate voice calls from the other room. Dean follows the soft sound to where there is a small brunette sprawled out on her large bed. “What was that noise? Did you break something?” she asks. He is still a stranger. Despite his comforting touch, she is still wary of having a random Alpha in her home.
“Just my phone,” Dean says as he crawls into the bed next to his new friend. “Go back to sleep, Omega,” he suggests. He wants her to sleep so he can process what to do without any distractions.
“But it hurts,” she whines as she curls into Dean’s side. “When we met at that bar, you promised you’d help me through my heat,” she takes his hand and puts it between her legs. “So, please help me, Alpha. Take care of me,” she pleads.
That is all Dean wants to do. It is in his nature to want to take care of an Omega in heat. It may be the wrong Omega, but he’ll take what he can get. Dean takes his hand away from her thighs. He rolls in over her. He settles between her legs. Her scent is off. She’s not his Omega. She’s not you. But burying himself between her thighs is easier than facing the fact that he has abandoned the one he loves. It’s easier to lose himself in his urge to take care of any Omega than it is to admit that his stubborn anger may be killing you. This Omega distracts him from the worry and doubt Sam’s words stirred within him.
She’ll be fine , Dean assures himself as he buries his knot into the Omega he can't remember the name of.
Sam hangs up the phone and curses his brother’s name. He doesn’t have time to beat some sense into the iron-willed Alpha. You don’t have time for that.
He walks back into the washroom and helps get you dry. He carries you to his bedroom instead of back to your room. You don’t protest.
Sam sits you on the bed but doesn’t know where to start.
“He’s not coming, is he?” You speak for him.
Sam shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
To both of your surprises, you don’t tear up or get angry. You just sit there. You have nothing left to give. You’re too tired.
“I can do it. I can challenge your bond and get you through this,” Sam offers with hesitation. “I do love you. It may not be in the way an Alpha is supposed to love his Omega. But you’re my best friend. I can’t watch you suffer like this.”
You offer him a small yet thankful smile. “I love you too, Sam. But the love we share is not the kind that can fully challenge my bond to your brother. Platonic love isn’t enough and you know it.”
“We have to do something,” Sam scrambles to find a solution as his eyes water over. But there is only one solution, and he’s not coming back.
You shrug. You have finally admitted to yourself what is happening. The thought crossed your mind at the beginning of your heat when it came on stronger than you expected. But you pushed the thought away. You couldn’t let yourself believe it. But now, there is no avoiding the truth.
You are not just experiencing your heat. Your symptoms are too severe. The only explanation for your rapid demise is that you are dealing with the consequences of a bond rejection. For an Omega to be rejected by her Alpha, there is no cure. It is always fatal. Even if Sam knotted you through your heat, the larger symptoms would remain and slowly eat away at you.
You trace the claiming scar on your neck with the pads of your fingers. You thought that accepting that fact would be scary. But it fills you with an inexplicable peace. At least now you know it will be over soon. You cannot disappoint your Alpha anymore. He will be free of you. And, you will be free from the burden of your own betrayal. You made your bed, now you must die in it.