Chapter Text
He opened his eyes and immediately realized what had awakened him. To his right, from his brother's bed, came a strong, almost choking cough. He lifted himself up on one elbow and took a deep breath. He could smell sickness and the bitter odor of the unfortunate little Alpha.
"Hey, buddy. You sick?" He asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.
With a rustle, Sammy slowly turned in bed to face Dean. His brother's face was pale and his expression unhappy in the neon and city lights that poked through the gap between the drawn curtains. Dean didn't need to hear the wheezing gasp that made Sam put his fist to his mouth and cough into it again to quickly get up from his bed and sit on the edge of Sam's.
"Let me see you..." he let out as he brushed Sam's long hair away from his face before resting his hand on Sam's forehead for a moment. "You're burning up, puppy."
"I'm having trouble breathing," Sam grumbled hoarsely, a hint of anger in his voice, the scent of an angry Alpha seeping through his sickly scent. Over the past few weeks, Sammy had felt more and more like an Alpha and less and less like the puppy Dean had raised all those years. It looked like his little brother was starting to grow up, even if... right now he was just a cold, shivering bundle of sickness.
"Yeah, I think you caught something. We have to keep you warm." He patted his hand and reached over to his bed to get the blanket, which he then draped over Sam and carefully pulled up to his chin. "I'll get you something for your fever," he added, getting up to look through their things.
Most of their luggage was still unpacked, since they had only checked in five days ago. The next day, Dad came home upset, gave Dean the money for the hotel about three weeks in advance, and said he wouldn't be back for a few days. Dean waited another day in case his dad changed his mind, as he had a few times before, but when their Alpha really didn't come back, he did what he always did; he mapped the area to see where he could get some money and then enrolled them both in school. He got them settled in, but... left some of the bags unpacked, kind of hoping they'd leave as soon as possible.
He didn't like New York. He didn't like big cities.
With a sigh, he opened the canvas bag that served as a first aid kit and began rummaging through it. Bandages, sutures, several kinds of strong painkillers, whole rolls of disposable scalpels, and a bunch of other stuff passed through his hands, including the hangover remedies and antacids his dad used in bulk, until finally... at the very bottom was a bottle of aspirin, rattling with the last pill. One would last Sammy maybe four or five hours. Then the fever would come back. And since it was just after midnight, he'd be as sick in the morning as he was now.
Damn job.
Dean didn't want to go out at night, not in an area he didn't know well enough yet, but he had no choice. He had to get something somewhere to bring down his fever, and for that terrible cough Sam had. And instant soup. Much more than they had, because that would be all Sammy could eat for a week or so, regardless of the fact that Dean had to go to school tomorrow and his brother had just managed to dump a bag of it into a bowl and pour water from the kettle.
With a small sigh, he emptied the last of the powder into his palm and then went to get a glass of water. He returned to Sammy's bedside and carefully made sure that his brother swallowed the medicine and then finished his glass. He would soon be soaked to the skin and would need plenty of fluids.
"I was looking forward to school," Sam squealed as he laid his head back on the pillow.
"Yeah, champ, but they wouldn't have wanted you there snoring like that anyway," he replied, no longer surprised that Sam was looking forward to school. All these days he'd heard him babbling about how they were going to have a big school library here in the big city, after all, what did a twelve-year-old Alpha want? To snoop through shelves of books.
He ruffled Sam's hair again, thinking they should have cut it before he got up and started getting dressed.
"Where are you going?" his brother yelled, pushing himself up onto his elbow on the bed.
"That was the last of the fever pills. I need to get you some more aspirin and something for your cough and something to eat," he replied as he put on his shoes. "I'll be back in about two hours."
"Be... careful."
"I will," he assured him with a smile.
He planned to be very careful, especially since it was night and the scent blockers they could afford were about as effective as a llama's spit. Dull-nosed Betas were easily fooled, maybe a few Alphas who wouldn't smell twice, but usually all an Alpha had to do was sniff a little and they could smell Dean's unmistakable Omega scent. He had a strong right fist ready just in case, and a nice switchblade in his jacket pocket if that didn't work. He could have brought a gun, but that would have drawn more attention than was necessary. He didn't want to get into any shit with his dad anywhere and Sam in charge.
He took out another of her credit cards and slipped it into his wallet to go with the fake ID before he took one last look at Sam dozing in his bed and then left the hotel room.
°°0°°
The shop he usually went to was closed, of course. Nothing to expect at 1:00 in the morning, right? Fortunately, big cities had the advantage that life never stopped here. During the day, people walked the streets doing menial jobs for a living, and at night, the same streets were filled with prostitutes, drug dealers, drunks, and the poor bar staff on their way to or from their shifts. So at any time of the day or night, there was someone out there who needed to buy even the most mundane things like bread and a bottle of soda.
Dean didn't have to look far to find an open shop. He'd missed the first one, though, because it didn't look like much, and judging by the smell wafting through the leaky door, the big, fat guy behind the cash register was an Alpha. He'd rather risk walking further down an unfamiliar street than be locked in a small shop with a greasy Alpha. He had more room to maneuver on the street, and he could run if he had to, though he didn't most of the time. He was tall and muscular for an Omega, and he was calm as he moved quickly and confidently, except for the occasional venting and subsequent snide remarks and whistles.
He stopped at another shop and, after a quick glance through the window, decided to enter. He was greeted by music, fresh, almost odorless air, permeated by a pretty good air conditioner, and a friendly, if rather disinterested, smile from the older Beta male behind the cash register. He quickly returned it, grabbed his basket - yes, they had baskets here - and dove into the aisles of shelves to find instant soups. And then pills.
He couldn't have been in the store for more than two minutes when, despite the music and the hum of the air conditioning, he heard a car braking in front of the store and saw out of the corner of his eye that a Ferrari had pulled up to the curb. A two-year-old model, but a Ferrari nonetheless. What kind of idiot would leave a car like that in this neighborhood in the middle of the night? Oh, right, Dean thought as soon as the door opened. He didn't even have to smell the guy who got out, because everything around him was chanting loudly; Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!
He looked a bit taller than Dean. And much older. Thirty-five, maybe forty. Dressed in a pair of tight pants that sat low on his narrow hips. His white shirt was carefully buttoned down to the last button so that it covered every inch of his body, including his neck (which was quite a surprise, since these types liked to show off their scent glands like they were some kind of jewel, and everyone around them was certainly interested in pumping their musk into the air), but it was tight enough that there was no doubt that the Alpha had a nicely developed, if rather slim, figure. His hair was so dark brown that it was almost black in the bad light, and a massive gold watch on his left hand glittered even from a distance.
His posture, the way he held his shoulders, exuded utter sovereignty, as if the entire street was his territory, as he strode confidently toward what else but the store. Because this was how Dean's fucking luck manifested itself, that this particular stereotypical knothead had to come when he was shopping here. And no, he wasn't the kind of asshole from the pub who was never sure if he had less brain or less knot and who was actually afraid of a sharp knife and the police. No, this was an Alpha who probably got what he wanted when he wanted it, at least as far as he could tell from the car and the outfit.
He mentally cursed and ducked behind a shelf before the Alpha could enter and see him, silently hoping that the air conditioning was strong enough to keep his scent from reaching the Alpha. He wasn't in the mood for this shit. He was pretty tired and Sammy was waiting for him at the motel, sick, so all he wanted to do was throw some soups in the cart, grab some meds, pay and get the hell out of there.
The bell on the door jangled as Alpha walked in, and moments later Dean inhaled sharply at the smell that assaulted his nose. Roasted cherries and bitter almonds, tinged with the musky scent that was common to all Alphas. It was heavy, intense, and everywhere, as if the damn guy had never heard of blockers, neutralizing sprays, or a good old fashioned shower.
The Beta behind the register said something that was probably a greeting in a language Dean didn't recognize. It definitely wasn't Spanish, more like Eastern European. Russian? Maybe, but he wasn't sure. It wasn't like he was any good at languages.
Of course, Knothead didn't bother to answer, that would be beneath him. Instead, he dove between the shelves.
This was Dean's chance to pay quickly and get out.
He tossed some soup into a basket and made his way to the checkout counter where he'd seen the cough drops earlier, but didn't get there. Halfway there, that strong and damned tempting smell hit him again. It cut a path through his nose, seeped sticky through his brain, and made his mouth fill with saliva because... god... damn, this guy smelled like cake. Freshly baked, still warm cherry pie, just a bite of it. It was so damn tempting. He took another deep breath, his mouth opening involuntarily as if to taste the smell, and turned his head a little to follow the scent.
Shit. He just had to... he wanted to follow that scent. All his instincts urged him to do so. Go, go, Omega, and find this good-smelling Alpha. He'll be perfect, strong, take good care of you and...
Fuck no!
Dean wouldn't do anything like that. He wasn't one of those cute Omegas from stupid romance movies who would fall into the arms of any good-smelling, muscular Alpha and immediately start wetting himself, ready to just show his neck and spread his legs. So why did he find himself slowly making his way down the aisle in pursuit of that spicy scent, as if pulled by an invisible hand, instead of going straight to the box office?
He knew damn well he shouldn't be doing this. It was the dumbest idea he'd ever had. Chasing after a complete stranger he'd met in an empty store in the middle of the night, but his instincts were stronger than that. Besides, what could happen? He had hard fists, his knife and quick feet.
No harm in taking a good look.
He stopped at a shelf and pretended to look at some detergent while leaning around the corner. The Alpha was bent over a rack of cookies, his ass bulging, and God, it was a sensational ass. Perfectly shaped, literally inviting Dean to give it a good slap, which was damn weird because when it came to guys, he was never interested. No... well, sometimes he was. A couple of times he'd met a nice smelling Alpha he'd given more than a glance, but he had no real interest. He just didn't want Alphas because they were hard to trust, and yet here he was, staring at a complete stranger, breathing in his cherry scent and staring at his arched ass and long legs.
He licked his lips, imagining the taste of cake that Alpha's scent brought to his tongue. He pecked at it and it spread like a fitting warmth through his body, making its way straight to his cock. He twitched with interest. Damn job! He knew exactly what was going to happen right after his cock started to rise.
No more staring, he had to go before -
Alpha straightened abruptly and lifted his head in a familiar motion. He fanned himself. Quickly and unerringly, he determined where the scent was coming from, and before Dean could even get around the corner, he'd already turned to look directly at him. Alpha's eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen, contrasting with his disheveled dark locks.
They stared into each other's eyes for endless seconds before Alpha opened his mouth, sucking in air through his flared nostrils, and something golden glittered between his lips.
Dean didn't wait.
He quickly made his way back, turning into the next alley, convinced that there would be an exit to the ticket booth, but there wasn't. He took a few more steps before realizing that he couldn't go any further. At the end of the corridor were refrigerators on one side and a loading cart with some boxes on the other side blocking his retreat.
He turned to go back, but the Alpha was already at the beginning of the alley, blocking Dean's escape. Sure, the alley was big enough for two, so he could easily squeeze past the guy, but it wasn't big enough to avoid his hands. There was nothing to do but back off, pretend not to notice the Alpha, and hope the Alpha would just take what he'd come for off the shelf and leave. Except with Dean's luck, and if he smelled as good to the Alpha as the Alpha smelled to him, he could at least look forward to an unwanted sniff, maybe a wandering hand, and a nosy invitation to the nearest hourly hotel.
He turned to the refrigerator, pretending to be interested in the yogurt, while his hand wandered to his pocket, fumbling for his knife. But he didn't stop watching Alpha. He could hear his footsteps and could feel him coming slowly but surely towards him. He didn't stop at a shelf or pretend to pick something up, he just walked towards Dean, each confident movement sending the message that he had a clear target. And that goal was surely a single thing; a small, lonely Omega, ripe for his knot. What else, right?
Dean tensed, waiting until the last moment for the Alpha to burst the bubble of his personal space. Because he could still be wrong. Maybe the guy was just a long-time businessman who'd come in to buy something to eat. Normal, decent Alphas were definitely out there, Dean just didn't meet them very often in his life.
But by the time the Alpha was close enough to be overwhelmed by the heavy, delicious smell of cherry pie and even raised his hand, his intentions were pretty clear.
The knife was in his hand before he could even think of pulling it out. With a quick flick, he opened it, then pointed the tip close enough to the other man's crotch to back up his words.
"Touch me and I'll cut your knot before you can blink," he said in a dangerously low voice as he turned to face the Alpha. Their eyes met again, but this time Dean had no intention of looking away or running away. He had to give in to the Alpha now, there was no question about it, because he wouldn't give in, no matter what his instincts told him. No matter how loudly they whispered in his ear that he should bow down. That he should bare his neck and let this perfect smelling Alpha take care of him. He'd played this game with his own little inner Omega long enough to know how to win, and it didn't change the fact that this Alpha smelled and looked better than any other he'd ever met in his life.
The Alpha stopped in mid-movement, returning the look for a moment before slowly looking down between their bodies and at the knife Dean was threatening him with. When he looked up again, he didn't have the mockery or anger in his eyes or face like most Alphas he'd ever threatened with a piece of their family jewels. Nor did he have the fear in them that he'd seen a few times before. No, his eyes remained perfectly calm, like the surface of a blue bay when the wind wasn't blowing.
"I want milk," Alpha broke the long silence. He had an accent that bore little resemblance to the accent of the language the Beta vendor had spoken earlier. But it certainly wasn't an accent so thick that Dean couldn't understand it and get confused, because...
"What?"
"I need milk with my cookies," Alpha replied, holding up the package of extra dark chocolate chip cookies he was holding. Dean looked at the cookies as if he was seeing them for the first time in his life. "And you're standing by the fridge."
He blinked in confusion before slowly turning his head towards the refrigerator to realize that he was indeed standing by the one that contained bottles of milk in addition to the yogurt, and he also noticed that Alpha hadn't reached for him, but for the handle of the door.
Shit! What an embarrassment.
"Oh... sorry. I'll get out of your way," he said quickly and a little embarrassed, stepping aside so that Alpha could open the refrigerator and take out the bottle of vanilla milk.
"Thank you," the Alpha replied calmly, as if he hadn't threatened him with half-castration earlier and still had the knife in his hand, and even smiled just enough for Dean to get a good look at the Alpha-sized golden fang that protruded between perfectly whitened teeth.
He gave Dean one last flash of his sky-blue eyes, then headed for the cash register with his small purchase. He looked his... well, his ass off with a look that he quickly lowered when he realized what he was doing. Oh yeah... considering what he'd just accused Alpha of, and the fact that he'd threatened him, it was damned unfair to stare at his ass, no matter how pretty it was.
Anyway, Winchester. This had gone a bit wrong, but at least he'd saved his ass for once, literally and figuratively, he thought to himself as he made his way to the cash register. He arrived just as Alpha placed the cookies and milk on the counter. Just two things. This won't take too long. Just a few more moments and Alpha would be gone, along with the smell of his cake.
The bell rang again as two more customers entered. Beta males by smell, both wearing baggy clothes and smelling vaguely of nervousness or anticipation.
In truth, he didn't pay much attention to them, his gaze always going from the cough traps to Alpha whether he wanted it to or not, which is why the first thing he noticed wasn't one of Bet's drawings, but the dramatic pulling of the tap.
"Open the register!" The armed Beta yelled, pointing his gun at the clerk.
Dean's first thought, right after he realized that this was a really shitty night, was to run. He glanced over to the door, only to find it barred by a second Beta, who might only have had a knife, but had some seriously muscular arms. He definitely wouldn't be able to take him down before the first one noticed and came to his friend's aid.
"I said open the register!" Beta Man shouted again at the poor cashier, who let out a wave of raw fear and did as he was told with shaking hands. The poor guy was damn lucky he was the owner and could actually open the register without marking and closing the transaction. Normal clerks didn't have keys or, in the case of modern cash registers, codes. Dean knew this all too well, having worked in a few places like this. Whether the muttonheads who'd invaded the store knew that was hard to say, because if they didn't, they'd either have to take the whole register or make do with just a few things.
Unless...
"You," the gunman growled, pointing his gun at Alpha. "Is that car outside yours?"
So yes, it was the car parked outside the shop.
Alpha tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Yes."
"Good. Throw the keys on the counter and your watch, wallet and all your jewelry too, motherfucker!" The thief ordered.
Dean had just unconsciously noticed that in addition to the large gold watch that trumped everything, the Alpha was wearing a rather massive gold chain bracelet on his other arm, and a large gold cross rested on his chest.
"No," Alpha replied without blinking, and only now did his scent turn slightly bitter. The cherries seemed to have faded into the background, replaced by almonds and a hint of hard liquor. Something wild but controlled that made the Omega part of Dean growl contentedly, muttering about the safety, strength and protection that was at hand. He literally just needed to get behind this beautiful, strong Alpha who would surely protect him, only...not. Unless he got pissed. He wasn't going to put his life in the hands of some random Alpha, no matter what his lizard brain told him, and he certainly wasn't going to hide behind him.
"Don't you hear me, asshole? Keys on the counter!" The thug tried to assert his dominance by yelling and puffing out his chest, which looked really ridiculous to the Beta. Especially since he reeked of growing nervousness and even a little fear. But he was the one with the big gun in his hand.
"I hear you, but I said 'no'," the Alpha replied simply, taking a step forward. "You won't take what's mine, but I'll give you a piece of advice; if you decide to point a gun at someone," he took another step so that he was so close that the barrel of the robber's gun almost touched his chest, "don't hesitate to pull the trigger," he finished, his hand shooting out like a snake.
He grabbed Beta's wrist and twisted his arm with a practiced grip, knocking the gun out of his hand and pinning him to the counter. At that moment, the Alpha could have stopped. Just shove Beta against his accomplice and throw them both out of the store, since it was highly unlikely that they could put up any resistance. That was exactly what Dean would have done if he'd been in his position. But the Alpha didn't stop. He grabbed the man's short hair and slammed his face into the counter. Once. Twice. Three times, and finally a fourth. Each blow was accompanied by a dull thud, but also by the cracking sounds as Beta crushed the man's nose and the bones in his face, and the wet snarl of blood splattering in all directions, right down to the pale blue shirt of the frightened clerk.
Only when the Alpha had turned the robber's face into a big bloody pancake did he let him slide freely off the counter and turned to the other Beta, who stood motionless in the doorway, reeking of surprise mixed with fear.
Dean could see the rusty wheels turning in his head as he considered his options. There were two: tuck his tail between his legs and run, or try something stupid like grabbing the lying weapon and lunging at the Alpha.
Beta moved forward.
Sure, he'd chosen the stupider option, but in doing so he'd once again cleared the way for Dean to escape. Without waiting for anything, he ran for the door, only noticing out of the corner of his eye that Alpha, who had been concentrating on the other robber, had lost his concentration and turned his head in Dean's direction. This caused Beta to gain the upper hand and knock Alpha to the nearest shelf.
The merchandise flew sideways, and a whole bunch of candy bars of various kinds scattered under Dean's feet as he grabbed the door handle. Another crash followed. Then a loud Alpha growl that quickly turned into an alarming grunt.
Dean froze.
The door was already open, all he had to do was run out and he'd be gone.
Don't fucking turn around! he tried to command himself, but his instincts forced him to turn his head to the scenario unfolding behind him.
It was hard to say how Beta had done it, but somehow he had brought Alpha to his knees and was now standing behind him, choking him with a thick chain. The massive links gripped the collar of Alpha's shirt and dug into his stubbled chin. His eyes were red and his teeth bared, all sharp fangs and gold. He raged and fought, but even Alpha's strength couldn't keep up as the chain cut off his air supply. So yes, it would take a little longer to strangle him than Beta or Omega, but with this equipment and the size of the Beta man, he didn't have much hope of winning. Hell, he had no hope of surviving. And he didn't deserve that. Even if he was the most knotty head there was, and even if he wasn't, Dean couldn't let him die. That wasn't how his father raised him.
"Damn job!" He swore to himself as he tossed the basket away and lunged forward.
The clatter of the falling basket caused Beta to turn his head just enough to land a well-aimed right hook that threw him off balance enough to loosen his grip on one end of the chain, and he stepped backward. Dean noticed Alpha drop to all fours with a loud grunt and coughed as he sucked in some much needed air. He didn't get a chance to see much more as he had to dodge the fist aimed at his jaw. He ducked, caught Beta's forearm and used his own momentum to send him into the counter. Even though the guy took a nasty blow to the stomach from the sharp edge, he didn't give up or run away, but swung at Dean again.
This time he simply ducked to avoid the blow and landed a blow of his own right to the man's liver. Beta grunted and instinctively wrapped his arms around his stomach. It was clear that he wasn't much of a fighter. The first thing to do was to dodge the blows and take cover. And when you were hit, the last thing you had to do was curl up like a beaten dog. That was the only way to give your opponent a chance to land a few more blows and finish him off.
Dean moved with the intention of doing just that when Alpha reared up behind the thug's back and stomped mercilessly on his knee. The joint buckled at an unnatural angle with a sickening crack and Beta fell to the ground with a groan.
Alpha bent down and pulled Beta to him, his back against his chest, his forearms around his massive, scarf-covered neck, then took his chin in his palm and snapped his neck with a swift jerk. The crunch of the snapping spine turned Beto into a limp puppet and ended his pitiful moans.
There was a tense silence in which Dean could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed, urging him to run, but at the same time he felt he couldn't move. He'd just seen this Alpha snap another man's neck with such ease and, more importantly, ruthlessness, as if he were nothing more than a common chicken. He should run. Hell, he had every right to scream like a girl as he ran, because this was only the second time he'd seen someone die. And the first time he'd seen it up close. But he didn't move. He knew that the last thing he wanted to do was to trigger the angry instinct of the Alpha to hunt, and this Alpha must be angry if he could kill so easily.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, hoping it would calm not only his beating heart, but more importantly his scent, before he slowly, slowly straightened up. His way out was clear. Alpha was breathing fast, still holding the dead man in his arms. Maybe if Dean moved carefully and quietly towards the door, he'd make it to the street before the Alpha noticed him in his furious drunkenness.
He took a small step aside.
The Alpha lifted his head sharply.
Shit!
Bright blue eyes focused on Dean and he froze. Shit squared and on fire. He expected to see bright red and hear an angry snarl coming from bared fangs. The picture of a raging Alpha with everything. Instead, he shared a look with a guy who was completely calm, as if he hadn't killed one or maybe - he glanced quickly at the other Beta, whose face looked like meat loaf - two people barely a minute ago. That was almost scarier than Alpha rage, because that was normal, wasn't it? This was how Alphas reacted to threats. It was instinctive.
Only this Alpha wasn't acting on his instincts when he killed. No, he was perfectly sane, so he must have been some kind of fucking psychopath. He could handle an angry Alpha, because he couldn't be much worse than a drunk, belching Alpha trying to get to the gas station bathroom, but he didn't know what to do with a normal, ruthless killer.
Alpha was the first to move. He dropped the limp body from his hands and stood up to his full height. And yet he remained just as still and otherwise motionless, just watching Dean with his piercing, blue gaze. It looked like he could stare at Dean like that for hours, or at least until the clerk took his heart out of his pants and finally called the police. That left Dean with the choice of trying to run now or waiting for the Alpha to make the first move and possibly end up with his head beaten to a pulp, or at best, and if he was very lucky, in police handcuffs.
There wasn't much to investigate.
He ran for the door.
A grunt was the only small warning before a heavy weight landed on his back, knocking him to the floor into the scattered chocolate bars. In a heartbeat he realized that even now he felt no real anger from Alpha. His scent was intoxicating again, cherry-almond, tart, and in fact so inviting and comforting that a small stray thought flashed through his brain that Alpha didn't really want to kill him as an inconvenient witness. That he only wanted to hold him back to protect him, so he shouldn't fight back and instead give in to his instinct to comply.
The problem was that his Omega instincts were nothing but a pile of cow shit in the light of the real world, and Dean knew very well that he was only a few moves of Alpha's hands and probably his scent away from death, which was the only thing that had to keep Alpha from breaking his neck the moment he'd taken him down. Taking advantage of his momentary inattention, he threw his head back.
He felt his temple hit Alpha's face and even heard a satisfying cry of pain before the tight grip of the hands holding his arms loosened enough for him to slip out of the hold. Before he could get to his feet, he felt fingers brushing over him and heard the ripping of fabric. He kicked back blindly, oddly enough hitting something soft, and was up in a flash, out the door and into the street.
Once outside, he picked a random direction and ran as fast as he could.
Chapter Text
Castiel ran his tongue over the wound on the inside of his lip. The torn skin bled enough to fill his mouth with an iron aftertaste, but it couldn't drown out the taste and smell of the Omega he'd held in his hands only moments before. The delicate scent of apple blossom mingled with the resinous scent of pine and was tinged with the sweetness of the Omega in a way that... wasn't unpleasant to Castiel. No. This was not the saccharine smell common to both Omegas and women, regardless of secondary gender, that lingered upstairs like molasses, clogging his nose to the point where he couldn't even breathe.
This was different. This was... perfect. Every nerve in his body, every instinct, screamed loudly that this was it. This was what he'd been looking for all these long forty years of his life.
The sound of shuffling footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He turned to the source and met the startled yet questioning gaze of the shopkeeper.
"Close the blinds and lock the door, Mr. Sorokin," he ordered, his voice thick with pain. His throat hurt and the skin under his collar burned. He was sure that by morning he would have purple, chain-shaped bruises on his neck.
"Yes, Batyushka," Sorokin nodded quickly and ran to do as he was ordered.
Meanwhile, Castiel leaned against the counter, fished a cigarette and lighter out of his front pocket, and lit up. The warm smoke pushed through his bruised bronchial tubes and into his lungs, bringing both a pleasurable feeling of satiation as his raging body got some much-needed nicotine, and a searing pain that made him cough the smoke out in disgrace.
He glared murderously at the cigarette as he tried to hold back another coughing fit.
Sokorin appeared at his side, along with a cloud of frightening odor that stung Castiel's already aching bronchi and nose.
"Done," he announced in a shaky voice, turning his pale face to the two prone bodies. "They... are they really dead? What -- what do we do?" He turned to Castiel, his eyes full of concern.
"Relax, Sorokin. I'll take care of it. That's what we're here for," he assured him before reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.
He didn't have to wait two rings before a familiar voice answered:
"Boss?"
"There are two large bags of garbage at Sorokin's. One," he looked at Beth with a broken face, "is leaking a little. I'll need someone to clean it up. And bring me some shirts," he added, glancing at his blood-stained sleeve.
"Okay. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."
He hung up, put the phone back in his pocket, and took a slow drag on his cigarette as he looked around. The merchandise from the two overturned shelves was on the floor, there was a small pool of blood on the counter, some of the blood was on Sorokin, and... his attention was drawn to the wallet lying on the floor. It wasn't his, and it certainly wasn't Sorokin's, since it had the Nirvana logo on it.
He tucked the cigarette between his teeth and picked it up. Almost immediately, the scent of apple blossom and resin assaulted his nose. Subtle, tinged with the scent of a leather purse, but it was there. It rose so tantalizingly sweet from the groped surface that it was hard not to press the wallet to his face and suck deeply on the remnants of the Omega scent that clung to it. Instead, he opened it.
He pulled out a driver's license in the name of Chester Bennington, and it was immediately clear to him that it was a fake. He knew the work of his own people when he saw it, and even though there was a picture of Omega on the license, the date of birth claimed he was two and twenty. He looked closely at Omega's face. He had youthful eyes the color of autumn grass, his chin was sharp but his cheeks were still childishly soft, and though he was broad-shouldered, especially for Omega, and really strong and a surprisingly good fighter, Castiel wouldn't have guessed he was more than sixteen, maybe eighteen. Next to his driver's license was a credit card in a completely different name, a few dollars, and a fast food receipt from yesterday. There was nothing else. No other IDs, no receipts, no photos, not even a gum wrapper. Even though the wallet looked both used and loved and cared for. It had to be empty for one reason; the Omega to whom it belonged wished to remain anonymous.
He closed the wallet, and this time he couldn't resist the urge to lift it to his nose and sniff. The scent of the wonderfully wild Omega was deeply embedded in it from long wear, and still so distinct that he thought of following the young Omega's trail. Like a true hound. He could do it. Lord help him, he longed to do it, but he knew he couldn't leave Sorokin with two dead bodies.
Cleaning up your own mess was one of the cardinal rules.
And cleaning up included finding out more about Omega.
He stepped around Sorokin and bent down to pick up the shopping basket Omega had left by the door. Surprisingly, the goods hadn't spilled out. It was just cheap instant soups and then medicine; cough drops and paracetamol, both for children under twelve. Did Omega have a puppy? He was too young for that, and he certainly didn't smell like he'd been mated. He didn't even smell like a small child, and his own puppy would have to be no more than six years old if he'd introduced himself early and gotten pregnant the first time. Maybe a younger sibling?
There was a tap on the glass.
He pulled back the blinds.
It was Pyotr and two of his men. All three were carrying gym bags with the usual quick-cleaning equipment; rolls of thick plastic sheeting, duct tape, garbage bags, and cleaning supplies, including peroxide. In addition, Pyotr had a plastic bag containing a white shirt.
Castiel motioned for Sorokin to open the door, stepping aside to give them some room. The hulking Beta entered first, assessing the situation with quick, sharp eyes before sending one of his men to the dry corpse, the other to Sorokin to strip him of his bloody clothes, and himself to Castiel.
"If I may ask, boss..." he pointed respectfully at his shirt.
Silently, he choked on his cigarette, put the butt back in the pack, and then set about undoing the buttons.
"What happened here, anyway?" Pyotr asked as Castiel shoved his shirt into the bag.
"They tried to steal my car," he answered truthfully, leaving out the part where the reason for killing the two men wasn't just his car. Not that that wasn't reason enough. It was a matter of honor to cut off the hands of anyone who dared to touch his property. But this time, it wasn't just a matter of principle, it was a wild, young Omega who was in danger. Even now, he could barely suppress a protective growl as he remembered the weapon that had come far too close to his Omega. In that moment, his Alpha had thought of nothing but how to rip out the Beta's windpipes with his own teeth, and it was hard to control the urge as the scent of apple blossom and resin filled his nose, tinged with a shiver of sour fear.
The least he could do at the moment was to try to kill them as cleanly as possible, despite the angry growl in his gut.
His determination not to turn Sorokin's shop into a bloodbath was probably one of the reasons he ended up on the floor with his neck wrapped in a chain. If he hadn't held back, the two of them would have been dead before Omega could have tried to escape, drawing Castiel's unhappy attention to himself.
Still, there was some good in it. Omega returned to defend Castiel. He smelled determined and a little angry. His Alpha had gone from an angry growl to a satisfied snarl in a matter of seconds as the perfectly scented Omega... his Omega, had returned to protect his Alpha. He was beautiful, young, fertile, brave, strong, and interested.
"Boys picked a bad deal," Pyotr grinned amusedly and handed him the bag with the new shirt.
He nodded slightly, but made no comment. Partly because he had nothing to say, but also because his thoughts had returned to Omega. He was... he could be the one. He certainly smelled better than anyone he'd ever known. And that was significant, since he was also an Omega, because the smell of Omegas, even the few males he'd ever known, suffocated him with its sickening sweetness. But he was also a Witness, and if there was any danger that he would speak... Castiel knew what had to happen, and nothing could change the pitiful wail of his Alpha instincts. If he had to choose between himself, and thus the entire enterprise, and an unknown Omega, there was no room for hesitation, but he could afford to hope.
This Omega wasn't an ordinary kid from an ordinary family. He knew that for sure. The contents of his wallet, the fact that he hadn't fought off two armed men, and the skill with which he could fight a larger opponent spoke volumes. If he didn't have at least one foot in Castiel's life, he was far from it.
"I have another job for you," he said as soon as his new shirt was on, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "I need you to find him."
He pulled out his ID, credit card and receipt and handed everything to Pyotr, who took it and looked at it curiously. From his expression, he immediately came to the same conclusions Castiel had earlier. He also figured out why he should be looking for the young man.
"Witness?"
He nodded in agreement.
"I see." Pyotr shook his head. "We'll take care of it."
"No!" He snapped sharply, a hint of his Alpha's anger in his voice, "I want you to find him and bring him to me. Alive and unharmed. I want to deal with him myself."
"Aye, boss," Pyotr agreed without hesitation, though his faint Beta scent was filled with uncertainty.
Castiel had to admit that it wasn't usual for him to deal with something as minor as inconvenient witnesses who needed to be silenced. But to Pyotr's credit, he didn't mention it, just acknowledged the order.
"I'll leave you in charge, Pyotr. My car attracts more attention in this neighborhood than your van," he nodded slightly at the drawn blinds before turning to the half-naked clerk standing at the counter, watching nervously as one of Pyotr's men continued to wrap the body in wide strips of plastic. "Mr. Sorokin..."
The Beta salesman turned his head toward him.
"Mark up the milk and cookies for me... as long as there's no blood on them," he demanded, reaching into his pocket for the money.
°°0°°
He silently opened the door, slipped inside and locked it behind him. Then, with a sigh, he leaned his forehead against the cheap laminate, through which he could hear all the distant sounds of the street perfectly. Finally he was back in the motel, in relative safety, surrounded by Sammy's homely scent. Sandalwood with a hint of olive oil, tinged with the smell of sickness, but it only took a few sips for his inner Omega to start humming home, puppy, safe place. How he hated that feeling. He was supposed to be there for Sam, to comfort him, not the other way around. Except that his fucked-up Omega instincts weren't just reacting to the scent of a puppy that was almost like his own - after all, he'd practically raised Sammy - but also to the scent of his Alpha, even if he was only his brother.
With a sigh, he turned around and leaned his back against the door.
This night really sucked. His legs ached from running, his lungs still burned a little, and he'd gotten lost on the way to the motel. It took him almost two hours to find his way back with the help of the nav system. That's why he hated big cities. In the smaller ones, all he had to do was walk or ride around to remember the neighborhood. Big cities were like a goddamn maze. On top of that, he realized he'd lost his wallet at the next store he tried to shop at. Panic gripped him for a moment as he could only think of one place he could have lost it, but he quickly calmed down. The wallet contained a fake ID, a stolen credit card, and some cash. Nothing the murdering madman could use to find him. The worst thing that had happened was that he had lost his beloved wallet; a licensed leather wallet that had cost him three months of slavery in the kitchen, and he couldn't buy Sammy the medicine he needed. That sucked the most.
At least he made it home alive and in one piece. He could run out tomorrow before school to get something for his fever and cough, and until then there were cold compresses and hot water and salt, like Bobby did when they were at his house.
He pushed himself away from the door and tried to get into bed as quietly as possible, damned thankful that Sam hadn't woken up yet, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His instincts were screaming at him that he couldn't sleep yet because their room wasn't secure enough, and... it was true. After what he'd seen a few hours ago, it wasn't a bad idea to take some extra precautions. Just in case.
Carefully, he took a chair from the small kitchenette and slowly, quietly, buckled it under the handle. In reality, it wouldn't stop anyone. After all, the door was literally made of paper and could easily be torn to shreds. But it would have kept anyone out long enough for Dean to get to his gun.
Which was the second thing he did.
He fished the SIG and ammo out of the gun bag and loaded it.
"Dean?" Came the hiss behind him.
He turned abruptly and quickly hid the gun behind his back.
"Sammy! Why aren't you in bed?" He scolded his brother sternly.
Raising his eyebrows in an eloquent gesture, Sam threw the blanket over his shoulders and stepped out from behind the supposedly decorative wooden wall that separated the bed area from the rest of the room.
"Did...Ahrm...something happen? Ahrm..."
"No, nothing happened," he lied easily, only Sam didn't believe him from his expression.
"So where's the grocery shopping? And why are you... loading the gun?" He asked, managing to sound reproachful despite the squeak in his voice.
"Okay..." he admitted, because what else could he do? He had a brother who was as smart as a squirrel on ecstasy and more annoying than a rash. But he didn't have to tell him the truth, just something that sounded like the truth. "I came across some stunted Knots. That's all."
The bitter smell of anger and sour worry exploded through the room as if someone had thrown a smoke bomb at him, and even in the dim light streaming in from the parking lot, Sam could see them take on a red tint.
"Did they hurt you?" Sammy tried to growl, but since even his normal growl sounded like a wheeze, and now he had a real cold to boot, it sounded more like a grunt that was even a little ridiculous.
Dean had to purse his lips to keep from chuckling with amusement. How little it took to make him feel better.
"Relax, champ. I'm fine. Surely I wouldn't be intimidated by a bunch of idiots?" He grinned. At least he didn't have to lie about this.
Groups of faceless Alphas never worried him, but this Alpha tonight...? That was an encounter he probably wouldn't forget for the rest of his damn life, if only because it left him with terribly mixed feelings. Sure, there was the fear of seeing the guy get killed, but at the same time, his inner Omega thought there was something incredibly attractive about it. As if what he, the unknown Alpha, had done was a demonstration of his strength and ability to take care of Dean and any puppies they might have together. Which was a damn shitty reason. No, seriously, Winchester, what's wrong with you if you think a killer Alpha at least twice your age would make a good father to puppies you don't even want to have?
And he better not have been thinking about that wonderfully tart smell.
"But you have a gun..." Sam pointed out, pointing to the gun Dean had already stopped hiding because it would have been pointless.
"Yeah, well..." he took a quick look at the gun before turning back to Sam. "Chalk it up to a little Omega hysteria," he grinned self-ironically.
"Dean..." Sam murmured for the second time.
"Enough," he interrupted firmly. "It's almost four in the morning. You need to get warm and I want to get some sleep, so hurry back to bed."
Sammy made a defiant face and opened his mouth to protest. He didn't let him. He threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled his to him. Sam's head rested on his chest, close to his scent gland, so he could smell Dean's scent through his stuffy nose. As always, it was literally magical. With a few deep breaths, the tension eased from Sam's shoulders and he buried his head deeper into Dean's shirt.
"I hate it when you do that. I'm not a puppy anymore," Sam grumbled into his chest, but despite his words, he let himself be led obediently to the bed and tucked in.
"You'll always be a puppy to me, bitch," he replied as he lay down behind him to keep him close and safe for the night.
"Jerk," Sam snapped with a pout, but his next words were a little more serious: "You shouldn't sleep here. You'll get... um... sick too."
"At least then I won't have to go to school," he growled as he buried his nose in Sammy's hair.
The gun found its place on the bedside table.
Notes:
batyushka - a powerful man, a patriarch of a clan or a church dignitary. For example, batyushka tsar or batyushka Putin. Freely used in many Eastern European countries.
Chapter Text
He flashed a charming smile at the elderly Beta secretary, who eyed him sternly from behind rectangular glasses suspended from a gold chain. She merely snorted in response to his pleasant demeanor and met his gaze again, for about the tenth time in the last five minutes. He could tell from her expression that she'd already pegged him as the school punk, just because he was dressed in army boots, ripped jeans, an AC/DC logo t-shirt, and his dad's old leather jacket with a flannel peeking out from underneath. Not that he minded. In fact, he was... a schoolyard punk. And he was proud of it. He was most pleased when someone snorted something along the lines of 'That's not how a proper Omega should act' in his presence.
The door to his left opened and a beautiful brunette with big brown eyes and soft olive skin walked out of the Deputy Director's office. Her blue t-shirt was just low enough to show the small gap between her beautiful breasts, and as she walked past Dean, he caught a glimpse of a firm ass in light gray jeans. She was a Beta, so she had only a faint scent, but she had it. Nice, like grass clippings and dandelions, though... roasted cherries and almonds were better.
"Hi..."
The brunette turned in surprise. He gave her the same charming smile he'd given the surly secretary earlier, which was much more successful this time. The brunette's cheeks turned a soft red and she smiled back, even opening her mouth to say hello when the obnoxious Beta behind the desk interrupted her.
" Deputy Principal Parker will see you now, Mr. Winchester!"
The old Beta managed to interrupt a nice moment of bonding.
"Hope to see you soon, beauty," he said to her, bringing a look of shy surprise to her face, which deepened when he smiled broadly and showed his teeth. They were all so surprised when they found out he was an Omega. The blockers might have masked the scent, but the fact that his fangs were sharper than Beta's couldn't hide anything.
He gave pretty Betty a last wink and then disappeared into the office.
It was a director's office like any other. He'd seen almost forty of them in his life. A desk, an armchair behind it, a couple of chairs on the side closer to the door. A small bookshelf with books on the left, a diploma and some plaques from interscholastic competitions on the wall opposite the door. It all looked like someone had bought the whole thing at IKEA, and truthfully, the chubby, grey-haired Beta behind the desk was probably mass-produced, too, because he looked like every other vice principal he'd had the pleasure of knowing. Only this time he wore glasses.
And he was probably dead inside, at least judging by the smell of old broccoli.
Dean subtly wrinkled his nose as he inhaled the unpleasant odor. This office really needed to be aired out, or the air conditioning turned on, or preferably both. Besides the old Beta smell behind the desk, it also smelled like unhappy and frightened Omegas and angry Alphas.
"Mr. Dean Winchester, I presume?" Assistant Director Parker looked at him over the rims of his glasses before gesturing to his chair. "Sit down."
Day crouched down in the chair directly across from him.
"I assumed your father and especially your younger brother would be coming."
"'Yeah... Dad's been busy since first thing this morning, you know? So he couldn't come, and as for Sammy..." he fished in his canvas bag and pulled out a note of apology, written in his own hand, but in his father's carefully forged handwriting. "He's sick. Some kind of flu or something. He's coughing and sniffling and has a fever. Here's what Dad wrote." He handed the letter to Parker.
The assistant principal read it carefully before nodding his head.
"This complicates things a bit. Your brother was supposed to pick up his textbooks and locker."
"That's not a problem, sir. I'll arrange everything for him, and I'll also bypass his teachers if they want to give him some lessons. Sam will be happy to do it. He was so excited to come here and he's sorry he's sick. He loves school!" He emphasized with proper Omega eagerness, all vulnerable looks, slumped shoulders and exposed neck. It never had the same effect on the Betas as it did on the Alphas, but he did it anyway because he wanted to put Sammy in the best light. His own reputation couldn't be saved, even if he longed for it in a fit of madness. But Sam still had a long way to go. Good grades, good behavior, extracurricular activities and all that. If he could at least make a good first impression as a small, submissive Omega, he could handle it.
Beta sized him up again through his glasses.
"I think so." He shook his head. "Your brother is a great student, according to his records. Top of every class he's been in. You, on the other hand..." his voice trailed off and he looked meaningfully at the laptop, which moved a little to the side, conveniently angled just enough so that Dean knew his file was on the screen. "Your school grades aren't worth much, you've got a bunch of unexcused absences, even more that only your father excused, and a few records of disorderly conduct. Disrespecting teachers, destroying school property, even fighting." He clasped his hands dramatically on his desk. "In the thirty years I've been doing this job, I've met few Omegas as belligerent as you, Mr. Winchester. And I understand all too well that growing up can be very difficult for Omega boys. But that doesn't mean I'm going to tolerate you being such a troublemaker, is that clear?"
"Quite clear, sir."
Parker gave him a long, hard look, under which Dean finally deliberately lowered his gaze, which of course pleased Beta accordingly. He leaned back comfortably in his chair and even smiled.
"I'm glad we understand each other," he murmured in a conciliatory tone before leaning back a little. "Now... I know you youngsters don't like to talk about it, but I have to ask... has your brother fully presented himself?" He asked, which was a polite way of finding out if Alpha had his first rut and Omega his first heat. Dean had heard similar questions since he was ten.
"Not yet, but we expect it any minute."
"What about you?"
"Two years ago, sir," he answered truthfully, but if he had to go into details like how many times and for how long, he would have told Parker to fuck off. It was nobody's business that his cycles were about as regular.
But the deputy didn't ask any such questions, just nodded as if acknowledging the answers.
"We know that at your age, cycles can be quite... confusing, which is why we give all Alpha and Omega students five automatic days off every two months. All you have to do is call and excuse yourself from class. Should the problem occur more frequently, we will require a doctor's note. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," he nodded, trying to look reasonably focused, though he didn't really care how they provided time off for haggling or heat here. He doubted they'd be here long enough to need a break.
"That's all. Get your books, timetable, and other necessities from the Study Department. You may go now."
He said a polite goodbye to Beta and was very happy to leave his broccoli office.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, he stepped into the thick smell of strawberries and cream, mixed with the sweet smell of Omega. He didn't even have time to look around to see where the smell was coming from when a blonde Omega girl with an unnaturally wide smile jumped out of the bench he had been sitting on. She was dressed like a nerd out of a 90's movie. A below-the-knee skirt, colorful tights and white sneakers, and a fuzzy pink vest over a short-sleeved plaid shirt.
"Hey! You must be the new student!"
" Yeah. Dean."
"Hi again!" She took his hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm Becky Rosen. I'm in your class. I'm also one of the editors of the school newspaper, and I'm the founder and president of the unofficial Vampire Diaries fan club at this school, and I don't want to brag, but... I'm also kind of a writer. I've written a couple of scripts for school plays, and one of them will be performed in the drama club this year."
"Good work... I guess," he said into the long pause that came after her statement.
"Thanks!" Becky, the other Omega, beamed. "But enough about me..." he waved his hand. "When I heard the new students were coming, I immediately thought I had to come and welcome you. Shouldn't you have a brother?"
"I do. Sammy, but he's sick."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he gets better soon," she sighed. "Well, anyway... is there anything I can do to help you? Maybe get your books and find your locker or something."
"Sure. Why not," he agreed with a shrug. If nothing else, it would save him time looking for the study section, since he had no idea where it was.
It quickly became apparent that Becky knew everything, so she slowly led him through half of the school, filling him in on its history and the latest gossip, from the fact that the history teacher had a new Alpha boyfriend to the laxative scandal and the cheerleaders. Next, she literally flooded him with invitations to various groups and "helpful" pages as soon as they became FB friends, and was literally horrified when he told her he didn't have Twitter or Instagram to follow her from. When she finally got over her shock at his lack of desire for social media, she helped him pick up textbooks for him and Sammy and locks for their lockers - the kind he could open at eleven. He tossed all of Sam's and most of his textbooks into his locker, then let Becky lead him to his first class.
"You know there are a lot of male Omegas, right?" Becky brought up a topic that was bound to come up sooner or later.
"Yeah, only six percent. I won genetic roulette. Hooray!"
"There's another male Omega in the class; Kevin, but between you and me, he's a bit of an oddball. It's his mom's fault because she keeps him home all the time and makes him do nothing but study and study and study. If you ask me, I think he should be more... involved, you know? Like me," she put her hand to her chest, "for our creative writing club, I'm..."
Becky's story faded into the background as Dean noticed the commotion in the hallway just below them. It was mostly his height that allowed him to catch a glimpse of the little boy sitting on the floor among the scattered textbooks, notebooks, pens, and other items that must have spilled out of his bag. He looked up at the group of three much larger and definitely stronger nerds surrounding him like a like a hunting pack.
He couldn't be sure what they were because of the abundance of Beta scents and Becky's strong strawberry scent, but the blond hunched over the terrified boy was definitely an Alpha. Even from a distance he could see his sharp teeth showing in a grin at the absolutely terrified boy huddled on the ground in front of him, eyes downcast and neck exposed.
His inner Omega growled and he growled with it. There was nothing in the world he hated more than when the strong dared to abuse the weak. And Alphas who thought they owned the world.
He quickly made his way through the crowd of onlookers, some of them looking away, others pretending not to see the ugly spectacle even though they couldn't help but giggle, and the last one just stood and stared and did nothing.
"Hey, Alpha!" He called to the Alpha - he was now sure, even by smell, that it was an Alpha, just as he was sure that his two buddies were Betas and the boy on the ground was an Omega. "Want to try it on someone your own size?"
The first look the Alpha gave him was more one of surprise than anything else. I guess no one had ever dared to touch his dubious authority, built by bullying others. Then the Alpha sniffed, and as expected, when he caught the Omega's scent, he just grinned. The next thing he did was to turn to Dean, straighten up and bared his chest and teeth a little. A dominant stance, similar to the way he'd made the little Omega on the ground cower, whimper and try with all his might to comply with the Alpha.
There was a small part of Dean, too, echoing softly from the corner, warning him that he really, really had better lower his eyes and his head. To submit. But a much larger part of him instinctively urged him to place himself between the danger - the stupidly posturing Alpha - and the other, smaller, weaker, and from the scent terrified Omega. It was an instinct to protect a member of his own family, maybe even a puppy, and it was a hell of a lot stronger than the instinct to submit. Something the Alphas had conveniently forgotten.
He stood between the boy and the Alpha and looked calmly into the boy's eyes.
It was obvious that the Alpha was a little surprised by this, but he wasn't going to be swayed.
"Look who we have here. Some new bitch."
Dean raised an eyebrow. Really? He'd picked up more creative insults in his time in bars, from Alphas who were so hopelessly drunk and a few Betas who couldn't hold on to a barstool. Sometimes they couldn't even articulate properly.
"Is that the best you can do?"
Instead of an answer, he got a deep, guttural growl, full of anger and clear warning. It was literally an order to bare his throat, which he disobeyed with all the glee he could muster. Alpha's scent, charcoal and wet dirt, slowly began to turn bitter with rage.
"Oh... what was that?" He asked mockingly, tilting his head to the side and putting a hand to his ear. "Something caught in your throat, Alpha?"
"Watch it, you worthless little bitch, or..."
"Or what?" he grinned. "Are you going to pose until I die of boredom?"
Bitter anger almost drowned out the smell of coal as the Alpha moved forward. Dean was about to throw the first punch, mentally cursing himself for the chance to make a much better first impression on Sammy, when a bell rang down the hall. The Alpha paused, and though his jaw remained clenched and his teeth slightly bared, he backed away. Kudos to the posers, who were only brave for so long before the heavy hand of the school rules came down on them.
"I'll be watching you," he said as if it were some sort of threat, and of course he didn't forgive himself for bumping his shoulder into Dean's as he walked around him, leaving a bit of his annoying scent on his jacket.
He resisted the urge to snarl in response. This was his father's jacket. It was saturated with his scent and a little bit of Sammy's, and the last thing he wanted was for that poor little Knot to stain it.
"Great! I haven't even been here a day and I already have my first fan!" He couldn't forgive himself for at least making a comment before turning to the little Omega who was still sitting on the ground, head bowed in submission.
"Hey, man..." he said quietly as he crouched down.
The Omega curled up into a ball.
"Please don't," he muttered softly.
"Hey, hey, take it easy. I'm not going to hurt you. Look..." he ran his hand over his neck a few times to get some of his scent on his palm, then held it out to the other Omega. "We're on the same team."
Sometimes, when a person was really scared, all they could smell was themselves, and besides, the Alpha made everything around him smell like anger and wet coal. The smaller Omega needed reassurance that he wasn't in danger.
There was an audible sniffle before the little Omega dared to look up and meet Dean's eyes for the first time.
"I thought..." he blinked, meeting Dean's gaze. "You look like an Alpha..."
Before he could say anything in response, Becky ran up to them.
"Are you okay, Kev?"
This time it was his turn to take a good look at the other Omega boy. He looked like a 'proper' Omega, the kind people would say was 'Omega as a picture'. Small for his age, even smaller than Sammy, although the latter was a real resident at twelve. Slim, delicate features, almond eyes and a mop of thick, almost black hair.
"So you're Kevin. I'm Dean. Nice to meet you," he said with a smile, offering his hand not only to greet him but also to help him up.
Kevin frowned and slapped his hand away in a surprisingly aggressive manner.
"I didn't ask for your help," he said angrily and started to put his things back into his bag. "Do you have any idea what you have done? He's not going to take this lying down. He's going to come back, and then it's going to get worse. Why didn't you just let it go?" He asked, not only angry but desperate, barely glancing at Dean before running off to class.
"He's right," Becky pointed out. "Do you even know who the Alpha was?"
"Dick?"
"It was Marcus Forest. He's like... the Alpha of this whole," she waved around in an all-encompassing gesture, "school. Some people are afraid to look him in the eye."
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. This school was pretty damn big, so he doubted that he ruled anything, let alone the entire school. Becky just had a tendency to overreact. And even if she did... it wasn't something that would ever bother him. He hadn't sat on his ass in front of thirty similar guys before, and he wasn't about to do it now. Besides, he wasn't going to stay here for more than a couple of weeks anyway, so what did it matter?
"Sure," he snorted. "We'd better get to class. I don't want to be late for my first class."
°°0°°
Becky led him through the cafeteria, her mouth never stopping. This time she was talking about something that had happened on the last field trip. Dean took in only vague snippets, having been completely distracted all morning, and preferred to pay attention to his surroundings instead of Becky.
The cafeteria was like any other. Tables and chairs that the schools were probably forced to pack from a vendor. A glass door on one side overlooking the courtyard, where you could probably eat on warm days, and two doors to the hallway on the other.
There was nothing surprising about the staff either. The musky scent of Alpha wafted from one corner of the dining room. That was where the younger ones sat. They usually kept a little distance between them, not much, but you could tell that they had moved their chairs so that they never touched each other, even though they usually talked to each other. Alphas could get along, but they needed their space.
Most of the dining room was taken up by the Betas, with the older Alphas strategically placed between them, forming clusters of followers around them. Little packs of sorts. Marcus was there, of course, accompanied by his two Beta buddies and a few other Betas. Dean noticed immediately, as he had a view of both doors. He followed Dean with a hostile look all the way across the dining room. He couldn't help but wink at him in mock flirtatiousness as the Alpha gave him so much of his surely very precious attention. Marcus' jaw tensed and his nostrils flared in response to the provocation, but he remained seated.
Becky led them to a table where there were practically only Omegas. Female Omegas, too. Nothing against girls or Omega girls - some of them were definitely worth a look - but the decorations for the Spring Formal weren't something he was interested in, and that was the topic that was currently running through the table. His only chance for something more entertaining was Kevin, who was sitting at the end of the table, far away from the others.
To Becky's great confusion, he walked over to him instead of taking the seat the Omega girl had chosen for him.
The other Omega boy had a meal from home in front of him in one of those broken, pallet-sized boxes. A diced sandwich with lots of fruits and vegetables. Yuck! Even celery sticks. Whoever made this for him was a tyrant.
"You want some?" he asked as he sat down across from the other Omega boy and tossed an open bag of jelly beans from the vending machine onto the table. His only lunch of the day. As long as he didn't have a job and Sammy was sick, he wasn't going to spend money on school lunches. He was used to making do with very little.
Kevin looked up from his food in surprise, then turned in equal surprise to look at Becky, who had taken the seat next to him.
"Looks like we'll be sitting with you today. I hope you don't mind?" Becky asked.
"Why do you want to sit with me?" Kevin asked, confused but also suspicious, his honey cookie scent even taking on a sour note of fear.
"And why not...?" He half asked with a shrug.
Kevin looked even more incredulous than before. His gaze quickly wandered to Marcus' desk, where it lingered for only a moment before the little Omega quickly lowered his gaze. It wasn't hard to guess that it was the moment the self-proclaimed Alpha of the school looked at him.
Dean casually glanced in the same direction to make sure that Markus was indeed following through on his stupid threat and watching their table while he munched on his food.
"Should I thank you for what you did in the hallway?" Kevin asked. "Or do you want me to do your homework for you?"
Dean would have had a lot to say about those questions, but before he spoke, he took a deep breath of Kevin's increasingly anxious scent and decided to handle it another way.
"I don't want any of this," he shook his head and leaned forward against the table. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. How about we try again, hmm? I'm Dean Winchester..." He reached across the table.
The other Omega frowned hesitantly at the outstretched hand before finally letting go of the fork he'd been holding too tightly and cautiously accepting the greeting.
"Kevin Tran."
Their handshake was quick, and an awkward silence followed. They might as well have spent the rest of lunch in it, but that wouldn't have been Becky at the table, who simply couldn't keep her mouth shut and only moments later opened the topic of her English homework. This alone made Dean quickly learn that Kevin was just as much of a little nerd - in the best sense of the word - as Sammy. He even liked comic books and DC, just like Sam. In fact, the two of them would get along quite well. Hmm, maybe he could introduce them. Sammy had always had trouble making friends, and even though he wouldn't be here for more than a month, his little brother couldn't spend all that time sitting on his ass in the corner of the library.
Thinking of Sam, he pulled out his cell phone and checked the chat. A few short messages awaited him, telling him that he'd taken all his meds, was in bed, and watching soap operas. He sent back a thumbs up and was about to put his phone away when the brunette from the morning walked into the dining room. She immediately caught his eye, so he watched as she sat down with her tray.
"Becky," he addressed Becky without taking his intrigued gaze from the brunette. "Who's that? The girl who just sat down at Marcus' table." He asked, pointing to the object of his interest.
Becky frowned because she didn't know who he meant at first, but her expression quickly cleared.
"The brunette in the blue shirt?" She asked in return, and when he nodded, she leaned toward him and lowered her voice. "That's Lisa Braeden. She dated Marcus for a while and may still be seeing him. No one really knows. She claims she's not with him anymore, but he still treats her like she's his girlfriend. Typical possessive Alpha, you know..." she indicated vaguely with her hand. "For example, I've heard that he sends threatening messages to people who like her photos or share her location right after her, and usually just a short distance from where she is, like he's stalking her. So... just creepy stuff."
What a surprise, he snorted inwardly.
"Do you know her well?"
"Lisa?" She asked; what would he mean by someone else? "I have her as a friend and we also follow each other on Instagram."
He opened Becky's profile and started to search. Lisa... Lisa Braeden. He scrolled down Becky's long list of friends.
"Do you want to add her?" Becky asked, looking across the table at his phone. "She's under Lisalea Belladdon. But don't get your hopes up. Let's not accept it. She doesn't have just anyone from school as a friend. Of course she has me in there, because she's a freelance writer for the school paper and I'm the editorial assistant and her proofreader.
So not Lisa, but Lisalea... Aha! There she was! Her profile wasn't really public, so he sent her a friend request and lifted his head to look at her desk.
It didn't take a second for Lisa to pick up her cell phone from her desk, which she had just put down. He watched as she tapped on the screen, now slowly dragging her finger down as she looked at his profile. She only had a few pictures of herself with Baby, Sammy and Daddy. Nothing that showed where they were at the time of the photo shoot or what they were doing. Pictures of menus from restaurants and nice cars and motorcycles they'd seen on their travels and lots of links to songs on YT and that was about it. And they didn't have any friends in common except Becky. Not that Dean had many in general... a few people from old school and some of his dad's friends.
Objectively speaking, nothing that should have made Lisa accept his request, but still, he was sure... A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth as she tapped the screen, and right after that, his own cell phone vibrated in his hand, telling him that his request had been accepted.
"I got lucky... I think..." She held up her phone to show Becky Lisa's now fully visible profile, leaving her mouth open in surprise.
"She accepted?" Kevin asked.
"Sure," he replied with a shrug, and just in case she didn't believe him, he showed her his phone before opening the chat and looking up Lisa's name.
"You want to text her right now?" Becky asked, of course staring at his phone again.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"But... but she's a Beta and... she's also... a girl," Kevin stammered in a shocked voice.
He looked over the edge of his phone and raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Yes, she is. At least I hope she's... a girl, Kev," he replied to his confusion in a condescending tone. "If she was a Replicator from the future or something, our first date would be a little awkward."
"You're asking her out?!" Becky squealed, half shocked and half excited, which was reflected in her scent, which literally exploded in a flood of sweet cream.
"That was kind of the plan..."
"But you're an Omega," Kevin said, as if that meant something.
"A? Does that mean I can't ask a Beta girl out?"
Kevin didn't have anything to say, so he fell silent while Becky leaned over the table even more, looking like she was going to climb on top of him if she wasn't threatened with a note for doing so.
DeanW. Impala: hi 🙂
DeanW. Impala: turn around, beauty 😉
"You should write her something romantic. Like you like her eyes, or that she has beautiful hair," Becky offered, pumping so much happy scent into the air that it must have been felt in the hallway. "Imagine the two of you together...!" He sighed, gazing dreamily off into the distance. "A new guy, a bit of a rebel, rebelling against Omega stereotypes, and the most respectable girl in the class, a bit boring but beautiful. And the two of them will fall madly in love and fight together against the oppression of their classmates who think that Betas and Omegas can't be together. It'll be like... like Grease, but way better."
Now it was Dean's turn to stare in disbelief, because what the hell? He imagined something more like tacos and a large Coke together and then cuddling in their motel room while Sammy did his homework at the motel desk or maybe on that old couch that was still behind the vending machines. And with any luck, it might turn into something more than just fondling. But definitely nothing as crazy as Becky imagined. They'd be gone in two or three weeks anyway.
The phone vibrated in his hand.
Damn, Becky had made him completely forget his plan to get Lysa's attention in a cool way, and now it was too late to make much of an impression when she texted him back.
Lisalea Belladdon: 😊👋
He looked up from the screen and looked back at Lysa. She glanced cautiously over her shoulder, and as their eyes met, a smile lit up her face and she raised her hand in a small, subtle wave.
Maybe it wasn't too late to make a great first impression, he thought, and returned her smile with a wave.
Chapter 4
Notes:
1. There is no rape in this chapter (or the next). I added a tag for some sexual coercion.
2. II don't want to force the reader to look up translations of Russian sentences unless necessary. When I write from POV of a character who understands both languages (English and Russian) I simply write it in English. If you want to change that, let me know.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He sniffed to himself and wrinkled his nose. He'd only washed the dishes for the second night and already he thought the smell of burnt fat, chicken, onion rings, disinfectant and gallons of cheap detergent had seeped not only into his clothes and hair, but right into his skin. Plus his own sweat. And not the "good" kind, which only enhanced his pheromones. This was real, stinky sweat that made his armpits wet.
He could barely make out his own scent under all that stench.
Not that he was complaining.
He was used to working in all sorts of shady places, like this diner with a night shift where they were willing to hire an underage Omega just because no one else would work there at night. The pay was... well, good enough for now, as long as they had money from Dad. He half-hoped they'd get out of New York before the money ran out, and half-hoped they'd find a better job or some other income if they had to. If he couldn't find another job, he could always air out a few pockets, play a few fake pool games, or stand at a bus stop and pretend he needed change for the bus or something to eat. It was almost unbelievable how many people were happy to fork over a few dollars when he properly lowered his eyes, craned his neck, and let his scent waft out into the neighborhood. Being a small, scared, vulnerable Omega worked wonders.
"I'm going to take out the trash," he announced casually as he tossed the first two large bags that needed to be taken out over his shoulder.
"Want some help, pretty boy?" Bill asked from frying the fries.
" I got it..." he declined, smiling at the tall Beta.
Bill was a nice guy. Dean had bristled the first time he'd called him pretty boy, but he'd quickly discovered that Bill called everyone by their pet name. Besides, he was so stoned all the time that flipping burgers and frying fries was the highest level of physical activity he could handle. Oh, and staggering out to the dumpsters once an hour to take a few puffs from his joint.
The back door slammed shut behind him and Dean immediately groaned in frustration.
They shared an alley with the Chinese restaurant next door. Both establishments had their dumpsters there, and someone from the Chinese place kept leaving their dumpster open. He'd been there three times yesterday to dump garbage, and the lid was open. Today was the first time, and... yes, the lid was open again. Open containers attracted rats, and the large number of rats in the back alley meant they could easily get into the kitchen.
He took the garbage to their dumpster and then moved on to the next one. It wasn't surprising that the lid was open, as all the bags had been thrown casually in front of it, preventing it from closing, and it was full of unwrinkled boxes that took up space unnecessarily.
Angrily, he began pulling out the boxes so he could squeeze them properly. Granted, it wasn't his job, but the last thing he wanted was to lose the few dollars he made just because the diner he worked at was filled with rodents.
A car pulled up at the corner of the alley.
That would be nothing special. People stopped here all the time to get takeout, and since it was only ten o'clock, there were still plenty of customers. The strange thing was that it was a van. A big, white one with a florist's logo on it. Maybe an employee was returning from his last delivery and had stopped by with his company car to pick up some food. Yeah, that was possible, but...
Dean stopped squeezing boxes and looked at the car.
No one got out for a long time, then the window opened and a man leaned out of the passenger seat. He was wearing a bulky jacket with the sleeves rolled up high, exposing his bare forearms so that even from a distance the thick tattoos that ran down his arms could be seen. And he looked right at Dean.
He returned the look for a moment before slowly turning and tossing the box back into the container, watching the guy out of the corner of his eye. Years of experience and instinct warned him that something was wrong. Best to go back inside.
He closed the lid of the container as tightly as he could and made his way back to the back entrance of the diner.
The man in the van got in and the van slowly pulled away.
Dean sighed and mentally scolded himself for acting like a fool. As if this was the first time he'd worked in a weird neighborhood, in a crappy diner with weird people staring at him. He had simply felt tense the last two days and his Omega instincts had been more difficult than usual. Tonight, for example, it had been awfully hard to leave for his shift and leave Sam at the motel. A little voice in Dean's head kept whispering that he couldn't possibly leave a vulnerable, sick puppy somewhere all alone, as if this was maybe the first time Sammy had been sick and he couldn't stay with him because he had to work. Or get them some money. Writing to Lisa didn't help either. While every text from her brought a smile to his face, it also made his stomach clench in a strange way... Not nervous, maybe, because... come on! Lisa wasn't the first pretty girl he'd written to. There was one in every city they passed through. But this time it felt wrong to text her. It was as if his inner Omega was looking for... something or someone.
Probably just his nerves still frayed from the unpleasant encounter with the murderous Alpha. His stupid Omega instincts just preferred finding a safe place to Lisa or something. He'd never paid much attention to that Omega shit, and if there was any useful truth in it, he'd never been able to get his hands on it. He was stuck somewhere with statements like "Omegas need safety and stability" - safety was boring and stability was nerve-wracking. He knew this because when he was twelve, they spent an interminable three-month summer at Bobby's in Sioux Falls, a small, quiet backwater in West Dakota. Or "They like soft things to nest in" - right, because Alphas and Betas preferred to sleep on hard floors and sit in uncomfortable chairs. Or "They like sweet things" - well, he loved cake, but he also loved meat in all its various forms. And his favorite was " They like bright colors" - he probably didn't have much to say about that, you only had to look at him to know what kind of garbage it was.
He heard the squeaking of wheels.
He jerked his head up sharply to see a florist's van coming at him.
The back entrance was too far away and the van was approaching at such a speed that his first thought was that if he didn't jump into the pile of pallets stacked against the wall, the van would simply run him over. He did. He stepped aside and the van came to an abrupt stop with a loud screech of brakes, just enough to block the entrance.
It was then that he knew it wasn't just a coincidence.
His first thought was to grab his knife, but it was in his jacket hanging in the diner's kitchen. The next option was to run, but the alley was a dead end. He was trapped. For the second time in one damn week. This city really sucked. He wished they'd already left, or at least that he'd brought a gun with him when he left for his shift.
Both doors of the van opened and two men stepped out.
One was as tall as Dean, the other a little taller. The taller one was about as muscular as Dean, but the other one was much thinner, in fact he almost disappeared inside his big jacket. The more muscular guy was the same one leaning out of the window. His sleeves were rolled up to cover his tattooed forearms, but his neck was clearly visible. The flickering light bulb that had just come on over the back entrance of the diner illuminated the spider web tattoo. It trailed down his neck and encroached a bit on his jaw. Years of living on the streets and his father's occasional work as an unlicensed headhunter had taught him many things, including how to read gang tattoos. The spider web was a typical prison tattoo.
If the muscular one was an ex-con and a criminal, the other wasn't much better, and both were close to Dean.
He took a deep breath. He couldn't smell the Alphas, so it could have been the Betas, their faint scent lost in the stench of the dumpsters and the kitchen smell rising from Dean's shirt. Or they were wearing strong scent blockers.
He hoped it was just the Betas. He'd have no trouble dealing with them, but Alphas? When he had to deal with an annoying bunch, he always had at least a knife with him, or they were Alphas his age, like Marcus. In fact, he'd never had to deal with two Alphas, probably criminals, without a weapon.
Both men stopped.
"You," the skinnier one spoke. "You're coming with us."
"And if I say no?" He asked in return.
The two men exchanged a look that seemed to say no words, for they were suddenly in motion.
Dean wasted no time. A quick glance around revealed that he had only one weapon. He stepped up to one of the pallets he was standing between, grabbed the splintered wood, and ripped it off just in time to swing it and hit the thin man in the shoulder. The guy staggered, tripped over the steps to the back exit, and fell on them.
Dean swung a second time, this time at the other man.
But the guy blocked his attack with one hand, grabbed the end of the wood with the other, and then Dean slammed him against the wall with all his strength. The blunt blow to his entire back half knocked the wind out of him. He didn't even bother to grab, just gritted his teeth and lunged forward, head on. A perfectly aimed punch caught the guy in the nose.
The guy grabbed his nose and blood immediately began to seep between his fingers. If it wasn't broken, it was certainly bruised.
Grinning, Dean took a step forward, ready to give him another good hit with the wood, when the skinny guy's surprisingly strong arms caught him from behind. Before he could try to break free, the other man swung and drove a fist into his jaw.
He felt the inside of his cheek rip open and heard his teeth scrape together as his jaw was pushed aside. Then an all-too-familiar pain exploded through his face. He snarled and bared his teeth in hostility.
The second blow hit his stomach. He was really glad that he had only eaten one portion of French fries for dinner, because the blow was so hard that he would have thrown up if he had eaten more. The third blow didn't take long. It hit him a little lower than his stomach, near his navel, and sent a sharp and very strong jolt of pain to the back of his tailbone. Tears stung his eyes. Unconsciously, he realized that the guy had a damn good shot and had probably hit the second most painful spot on his body after his balls; his womb. Or at least he had a vague idea that it was there somewhere.
The last blow had completely knocked him out. Fucking omega of anatomy. It hurt so much that he was barely aware when the man swung again.
"Prekrati eto!"
Whatever the skinny guy said, the next punch didn't come, and instead the muscle man grabbed him by the shirt and bared his teeth at him viciously. Now he knew it was only Beta. Great, Winchester, you got beat up by two Beta guys. That's quite a show you put on.
"Eta suka slomala mne nos!"
"Durak! Ne zabyvayte zakazy!"
Bigger Beta might have wanted to say something, but he changed his mind. Instead, he grabbed Dean by the shoulders and then, with the help of the skinny guy, they knocked him down. He fell face first onto the cold, wet pavement that smelled of urine and garbage, and a can full of cigarette butts standing at the foot of the stairs came into his field of vision. He wondered if this was the last thing he would see before being shot or cut down.
It was a bit of a surprise when the weight of a knee pressed against his back and then someone twisted his arms back to tie him up. Plastic police handcuffs, he realized immediately as they dug into his bare wrists.
"If you're nice and quiet, Omega, we won't tie your legs and you won't be gagged. Deal?"
He swallowed his desire to send them up his ass and gave a small nod of agreement. Whatever they wanted to do to him, they wouldn't do it here and now. That gave him some time to absorb the pain and formulate an escape plan.
"Smart decision,"" the thin man complimented him, patting him on the head as if he were some kind of dog.
Then he was lifted off the ground and a moment later found himself in the back of the van.
°°0°°
A drop of water fell on his knee. He brushed it away in one quick motion before it could soak in completely and looked down at the woman kneeling on the floor in front of him. The blonde woman was hugging her own shoulders, her red-painted nails clenched in her black jacket, shivering, her downcast eyes obscured by strands of hair that had come loose from her tight bun. The name tag said Crystal, but Castiel knew her real name was Oksana. She was one of the many Ukrainians they'd helped bring to the States, and one of the few lucky enough to pay off her debt not in a brothel or by shooting porn, but in Blue Sky. Castiel's private club, where she was a waitress. She had the right combination of good looks, English skills, and even a faint scent for a Beta, so all it took was a single application of blockers in the right places and she could spend all night on the set without her scent bothering the guests. The waitresses at Blue Sky were supposed to be seen, not smelled.
"I'm disappointed."
Oksana looked up at him for a moment before she curled up more, a wave of raw fear surging through her body so strong it overcame any blockers she'd put on before her shift.
"I gave you the opportunity to work off your debt to Blue Sky, and how did you repay me for such a show of kindness and trust? You stole from me."
"No!" Oksana cried, making a move as if to lunge at Castiel's feet, but Pyotr took a step forward and stopped her. She remained on all fours, desperate eyes fixed upward, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, I didn't steal from you, Batyushka! I swear it! I would never - "
"Stop lying to me," he interrupted her harshly, a small growl creeping into his voice.
Normally he didn't let his inner Alpha slip through the cracks so easily when it came to business, but this was more than that. Blue Sky was his safe place. In fact, it was a part of his lair that others were only allowed to enter under very strict conditions and only to those he deemed worthy of his trust. Literally every single registration passed through his hands, and every single employee, including Oksana, had to be approved by him personally. And she betrayed him. She stole from him. Yes, it was only five grand - Ah... that's how much you spend at the hairdresser for your sexy hair, ma chér, Balthazar noted casually - but this was about her blatant audacity, daring to steal cash directly from the safe and thinking she wouldn't get caught.
Beta simply lowered her head helplessly, a whimper escaping her throat.
"I had to do it," she whispered softly. "I needed the money. I needed it now. My mama... v doma v Ukrayini... she had big debts she couldn't pay. She would lose everything... I had to help her." She raised her tearful eyes to Castiel. "Please...forgive me! Forgive me! I'll pay you back! I swear!" She begged, clasping her hands as if praying to him.
Another growl escaped him. Under his force, Beta lowered herself to the ground again, eyes downcast, exposing her vulnerable neck to him. His Apha rewarded him with a satisfied purr. That was the submission he wanted to see. The real, sincere apology, not to have to listen to her apologizing for her poor mother somewhere in the Ukraine. Even if she existed, it wasn't Castiel's problem. He didn't care.
"I'm not worried about you not paying your debt," he insisted, standing up. "Hold her."
Boris gripped her upper arms tightly, while Yuri grabbed her left arm and lifted her violently. Oksana watched, eyes bulging, as Pyotr pulled surgical gloves and a medium-sized pair of tin snips from his bag.
Cutting was the most effective, but when it was just a finger and not the whole hand, getting a person to hold a finger on a flat surface could be a problem. And holding it meant risking your own hand.
Cutting was very tedious and made a lot of mess. Blood mixed with fine fragments of bone and flesh literally splattered everywhere.
Tin scissors, if they were large enough and of good quality, worked best, though it took some strength to use them.
He took a pair of gloves from Pyotr, which he carefully pulled over the cuffs of his shirt and the ends of his jacket sleeves, then walked over to Oksana with the tin snips.
"Please! Please don't do this! You'll get everything back! I swear! I can... I will... get the money! I swear it! You don't have to... forgive me! Probach meni! Please! Please! Please!"
Ignoring her annoying pleas, which were no different from any other he'd heard in his life, he plucked her little finger out of her fist, because of course she clenched her hand in a futile attempt to protect herself.
He held it tight as he lightly clamped the scissors around the other knuckle, searching for the spot where the blade would fit best. When he found it, he squeezed.
There was a wet crunch as the flesh and bone loosened.
Oksana's litany of pleas was interrupted by a loud, wailing scream.
His inner Alpha growled in satisfaction and bared his teeth, and Castiel did the same. His need to protect territory had been satisfied. Whoever dared to invade and take what belonged to him alone would be duly punished.
He stepped away from Beta, who was half unconscious in Boris's arms, and examined her finger. She had a very nice and certainly not cheap manicure. Maybe if she sent her mother what she spent on nails every month, she wouldn't have to steal to feed her family in the Ukraine.
Without further interest, he dropped his finger into the burning barrel and slid the tin snips in after it, blade first, to burn off Oksana's blood. Then he leaned over to the blonde Beta, grabbed her hair and lifted her head, forcing her to look up at his face. Her eyes were unfocused and her scent was filled with so much fear and pain that almost all of the woman's sweetness was gone, so he had no problem inhaling her scent so closely.
"I was tempted to cut off both your arms, but an armless bitch won't do much good. Let this," he grabbed the mangled hand and held it in front of Oksana's face, "be a reminder to never think of stealing from me again."
He let go of her and straightened.
"Take her to Vladek. He'll know what to do with her," he ordered the men holding Oksana before pulling off his gloves and throwing them into the fire next to the tin snips. Flames erupted and the smell of burning latex filled the air.
"Aye aye, boss." Boris nodded and released Oksana.
The beta fell to the concrete floor where she curled up into a fetal position, her bleeding hand pressed to her chest. She was shaking and sobbing and didn't seem to care that blood was seeping through her blouse and her pants were soaked with urine. She certainly wasn't in such a state that they had to worry about her trying to escape anytime soon. They'd probably have to carry her out to the van.
He stepped aside to avoid getting blood or urine on his pants and only half watched what his men were doing. Boris took a plastic bag and some cardboard from Pyotr's bag. He pulled the bag over Oksana's bleeding hand and taped the edges well. They may have had the van covered with foil for this case, but the less blood flowing freely the better.
Pyotr's phone rang.
"What is it, Vadim?" He asked into the phone, nodding after a short pause. "I'll tell the boss," he said, removing the receiver from his ear and turning to Castiel, "They have the boy. You want them to bring him here?"
Immediately, a wave of excitement washed over him. His inner Alpha, until that moment quiet and comfortably curled up at the edge of his consciousness, perked up and shivered all over. They had his Omega. They had it for him. Finally. His wonderful smelling Omega.
"Yes. Bring it here as soon as possible," he ordered, barely managing to keep his voice calm. He couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd felt such excitement at the mere thought of meeting someone.
"Bring him here. We'll be there as usual. And quickly," Pyotr ordered into the phone, hanging up, then adding to Castiel, "They'll be here in twenty minutes, boss."
He nodded and turned his attention to Boris, who had just lifted Oksana onto shaky legs and was about to lead her away with Yuri's help. Blood and a wet spot of urine were left on the floor by the blonde Beta. The mixture of iron smell and ammonia must have been strong enough to be disgusting even to Betas, let alone Omegas, whose sense of smell was much better. It was necessary to get rid of the filth before Dean was brought in.
"Clean this mess up," he ordered, nodding slightly at the wet spots on the concrete. "And a second chair is needed."
His men looked a bit surprised. Usually they didn't clean up until the very end. Doing it earlier was pointless, because whoever they brought in, for whatever reason - an execution or just a conversation - there would be some waste left behind. Urine, vomit or blood. Often a mixture of at least two. Besides, the bloodstains had a psychological effect; they induced fear. And that was exactly what he wanted to avoid.
Boris and Yuri exchanged glances, then Boris nodded, put his arm around Oksana's shoulders and walked with her to the van, leaving Yuri to clean up. Beta grabbed the broom and hose.
Castiel stepped back and pulled out a pack of cigarettes as he watched Yuri carefully remove the bloodstains with a stream of water and a hard broom. He placed one between his lips and was about to reach for his lighter when Pyotr appeared at his side and lit it.
"Are you going to invite him in, boss?" The hulking Beta intoned curiously.
He shot him a look.
There had been a time, and Castiel had seen it as a young man, when no one could join them who was not Russian, if not by native, at least by blood. But times had changed in the last twenty years, and accepting a pure-blooded American as a recruit would hardly raise an eyebrow these days. Yes, hard core was still reserved for true Russians, but his little wild Omega still had a chance to get pretty high. He saw the potential in it, but had no plans to back it up.
"No," he exhaled with a puff of smoke.
"With all due respect, we can't let him live after what he's seen," Pyotr said, and it was clear from his tone that he would do what had to be done, even if it was against Castiel's will. Of course, it irritated him, he was an Alpha and hated being disobeyed, but he also appreciated it. Pyotr's loyalty was first to his brother and then to Castiel, and that was the right thing to do.
"I will give him a choice, and one of the options will be death," he assured Pyotr that he, too, had their mutual interests in mind before his own.
Silence fell between them, punctuated by the distant splash of the Hudson and Yuri's careful cleaning. Castiel took another drag and blew the smoke out of his nose, his mind wandering to what his people had been able to find out about his Omega. His name was Dean and he was sixteen, just like he thought. He was staying for the second week in a cheap motel called the Golden Star, which was ironic because it was a horrible dump. He had a brother, Sam, and according to the motel receptionist, an Alpha father, but he'd just left Dean and his brother at the motel and disappeared. Just the thought that Omega's father, who was also an Alpha, could be so inconsiderate as to leave him unprotected and uncared for made his Alpha growl and howl in anger. Castiel would never do such a thing. Once he was Dean's Alpha, he would literally never let him out of his sight, making sure he didn't have to live in a motel full of roaches and work in some shady all-night diner.
They could hear a car pulling up outside.
"Should we stay, boss?" Yuri asked, having just placed an old plastic chair on the freshly scrubbed concrete.
"No," he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
Omega was to be brought in by Vadim and Jacob, along with Pyotr, the three Betas, and... oh, of course, Castiel, the Alpha. As much as he was sure his Omega wouldn't be intimidated by anything, this was more than enough to scare him. In fact, it was almost too much, he thought, frowning thoughtfully. He should have done more to make it clear to Dean from the beginning that he didn't have to die here.
He took one last drag before tossing his cigarette into the burning barrel and then taking off his jacket, which he hung on his chair. When he wasn't wearing the jacket, it was easy to see that he wasn't carrying any weapons. He even briefly considered undoing some of the buttons on his shirt. Balthazar always claimed it made him look less uptight, but before he could make up his mind, he was interrupted by shouts and Russian curses coming from outside.
He turned his head in that direction and sucked in some air.
Unfortunately, at this distance and considering how close the foul-smelling river was, he couldn't detect anything. Not even Omega's apple-pine scent, which he remembered as the strongest and most delicious thing he'd ever smelled.
There was another noise and the slamming of the van door, and then Vadin and Jacob finally emerged from behind the open warehouse door, dragging the swaying Omega between them. Even at first glance, he was as wild as Castiel remembered. Though his hands were tied behind his back and he had no visible way to break free or escape his bonds as the Betas held him with both hands, he still refused to submit to them and tried to break free of their grasp until....
Their gazes met.
Green eyes, almost pine in the dim light of the two spotlights, widened with instant recognition, and Omega stopped his frenzy at the same moment. He didn't flinch in fear as those who knew him did, knowing that if they came face to face with him, they would likely meet a terrible fate. It wasn't even the Omega's natural respect for the Alpha, because that would make Dean lower his gaze, and he wasn't doing that. It wasn't even the look of someone who realized he was in big trouble, something Castiel knew well. This was something else...
Omega let himself be led to the prepared chair without any further resistance and without breaking eye contact with Castiel.
He sucked in air. The strongest odor he could smell from Dean was the stench of cheap chemicals, fried chicken, and sour sweat, but underneath it all was the scent of apple trees in the spring, pine wood drying in the summer sun, and a subtle Omega sweetness that was just a subtle undercurrent. His Omega. His kind. That was his Alpha purring in his ear again and again, making him take a few steps forward.
Too close to the young Omega, whose hands may have been tied behind his back, but he still had ample opportunity to attack Castiel. Still, he didn't. He remained still, his gaze fixed on Castiel's eyes, only moving when he leaned in to catch more of his scent.
Strangely enough, he didn't pull away, but leaned forward slightly and could be heard taking a deep breath. He sniffed Castiel's scent as much as his own, and from the way his breathing slowed and his muscular shoulders slumped, he liked what he smelled.
Smiling, he pulled back a little to get a better look at Dean's face. His sharp chin, but soft cheeks, beautifully shaped lips that... He frowned. There was a small wound on the left side of his lower lip, and now that he had a better look at Omega's face, he noticed that there was a red swelling on his jaw. A fist wound that would surely turn purple by morning.
He pulled away sharply and shot a cold glare at his men.
"Which one of you did this?" He asked calmly, his anger still simmering inside. The two Betas exchanged glances but did not answer. "Which one of you disobeyed an order and hurt him?"
"I did, boss," Jacob admitted, stepping forward. "He hit me first. Bruised my nose and maybe even broke it," he explained, touching his swollen nose, still a little dirty from the dried blood.
"Okay. We'll deal with that later. Now," he stepped back and nodded to Omega, "untie him."
Vadim pulled a knife from his pocket and took a step forward to obey the order, only to have Omega jerk so violently in front of him that he slammed his foot into a chair, almost knocking it over. At the same moment, he turned to Vadim and bared his teeth belligerently. Not only at him, but at everyone.
"Don't touch me!" he barked angrily, but his scent and the glint in his eyes said clearly that he was not only angry, but also afraid.
At first, he didn't understand why Omega reacted so violently to a perfectly harmless command, until he realized that he didn't understand them. All he had to do was hear the unfamiliar language, the annoyed tone, and he could see Jacob pointing at his broken nose. Then, when Vadim pulled out his knife, he had to assume that they were going to use it on him.
"He's not going to hurt you, Omega. He just wants to untie your hands," he switched to English, which had the desired effect.
Dean glanced in his direction before slowly rising from his fighting stance and standing still as Vadim cut the plastic cuffs on his wrists. Once his hands were free, he took another step away but made no attempt to escape. He watched them with a wary gaze, his eyes occasionally darting to the side as he assessed his surroundings. He had a keen eye, and it was obvious that he really knew what he was doing and what to look for. That he was looking for possible improvised weapons and escape routes.
"Sit down," he ordered, but Dean didn't move, just stared. "I said; sit down," he repeated more emphatically, and from the way Dean's lips pursed, it was obvious that he wouldn't obey this time either, but after another quick glance at Pyotr, he decided to comply.
Very slowly, he sat down in the prepared chair and began to rub his wrists. He didn't stop watching Castiel the whole time, never taking his eyes off Castiel for a moment, only stiffening slightly as he pulled the other chair closer and sat down.
"Do you know who I am?"
"A crazed psychopathic killer?"
Mostly surprised, but also a little confused, he tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.
"Yes. I suppose that... might be true," he admitted thoughtfully. No one had ever said anything like that to his face, and it was surprisingly... refreshing, especially coming from the beautiful lips of his Mate. He couldn't help but smile slightly before leaning forward a little, just to be closer to Dean's overwhelming scent. "But I am also your True Mate."
Omega's scent hit him in a strong wave, as if he wanted to attract him with his scent, but Dean himself pulled away a little and grinned.
"Except in your crazy fantasies," he got another cheeky reply, bringing a hint of anger that was very well masked by fear.
"I can smell your scent. It calls to me. It beckons me. It's overwhelming. According to my Alpha, we're a perfect match. And if I can feel our kinship, you must feel it as well. Don't try to lie to me," he warned him gently, but firmly enough that the Omega wouldn't let himself be lied to.
Dean pursed his lips and stared directly into Castiel's eyes for several long, defiant breaths before looking away.
"Fine," he breathed exasperatedly, meeting his eyes again. "You smell to me like freshly baked cherry pie with almond crumble. It's the best I've ever smelled. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Castiel smiled smugly.
"Yes."
"That's what you heard. But that doesn't mean you're my soul mate or true love or anything like that. I don't believe in those things. It's all bullshit."
A lot of people denied the whole concept of True Mates even Castiel himself was hesitant if such a thing really existed, even though the very thought went against his beliefs. But not now. Now, face to face with Dean, wrapped in his scent, looking into his sparkling green eyes, he no longer questioned it. And he didn't care if True Mates came by the will of the Lord or if it was just part of evolution, nature trying to bring together two individuals who could produce offspring with the best genetic material. It was simply the truth, and he didn't understand how his Omega could deny their connection when he must have felt it as strongly as Castiel himself.
"And yet that bullshit," he fingered the quotes. "It saved your life back in the shop and here and now. You're my True Mate and I'm yours."
Dean's lips were pressed into a thin line, defiance mixed with fear in his eyes, and one hand wrapped tightly around the edge of the cheap plastic chair he was sitting on.
"Yeah... okay..." Omega stretched, shrugging his shoulders. "Whatever the guy with the biggest gun in the room says."
He frowned in confusion. He didn't have any firearms with him, and to show Omega that and to reassure him, he'd taken off his jacket before he'd arrived. The shirt he wore was so tight that a small two and twenty couldn't have been hidden underneath it, and none would have fit over the waistband of his pants. He might have had one on his ankle, but even that couldn't be the 'biggest bump in the room'. So he didn't understand what he meant. Maybe he should ask Omega about it later, when he had the chance. He hoped he would have the chance.
He straightened before continuing:
"I want to give you a choice."
"What choice?" asked Dean.
He didn't answer right away. He stood up, picked up his chair and pushed it aside just far enough to grab a nearby tall wooden box and place it, bottom up, between the chair and Dean. Then he walked over to Pyotr.
"Give me your gun."
"Sure, boss," Pyotr replied and reached into his holster for his gun.
Another sour note in the air, clearly perceptible over the foul smells of the kitchen and largely canceling out Omega's beautiful scent, was Dean's reaction to the drawn gun. Not wanting to startle him unnecessarily, he let the gun rest very loosely in his hand and approached Dean with planned slowness and just close enough to give Omega a good view of the magazine he had removed from the gun.
"Full." He turned the magazine over so Omega could check that there were indeed bullets in it. "And the gun is fully functional," he added, very slowly placing the gun on the wooden crate.
He was well aware that Dean was watching him the whole time. He literally hypnotized his every move and didn't stop for more than a few seconds to look at the gun. A weapon that was now completely within his reach, but Omega didn't move. For now. Only the muscles of his jaw tensed.
Just as slowly and calmly, Castiel returned to his seat and sat down.
He met Dean's green eyes.
"I think you understand that after what you saw, I can't just let you go. This isn't just about me and not going to jail, it's about much... bigger things," he had to explain to Dean that he had no choice and that no matter what was between them, he couldn't put Omega before the Brotherhood. "But you saved my life, so I want to be fair and give you a chance to save yours." He nodded to the gun. "This is your first chance. You can use it to get out of here."
Omega's gaze slid immediately to the weapon, then looked around. Castiel knew exactly what he saw. He was surrounded by four men. One unarmed, but still an Alpha, and three presumably armed Betas. Pyotr's gun was missing from his underarm holster, but he had a backup in a holster at the back of his belt. The others had their guns at their waists, and each of them, if not more muscular than Omega, was at least more experienced. Ultimately, they were all stronger than Dean, regardless of the fact that he was magnificently built not only for an Omega, but for an Alpha of his age. His muscles rippled under his thin black t-shirt in time with his accelerated breathing. And his neck tensed as he slowly turned his head from side to side as he looked around, inadvertently revealing the small but clearly visible bumps of his scent glands.
Castiel's gaze lingered on them, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of apple and pine that made his Alpha instantly long to bury his nose, and perhaps his teeth, in the Omega's exposed neck. To mate him. To bind him to himself. To claim every part of him and then hold him and care for him for the rest of his life while his Omega raised some puppies. Puppies that Castiel had long since forbidden himself to even think about, let alone desire, knowing that it would be nearly impossible to find anyone to give them to.
God help him, he would and should. Simply pairing Dean and taking him with him would solve everything, but if he did that, he would be no different than his father. No, he wanted to do it differently. His Omega would be with him willingly or not at all.
Dean turned back to him and met his gaze from head to toe. It was an appraising look, one that determined if Castiel would be quick enough to get to the weapon first. Whatever his conclusion, it made him grin bitterly and flood the room with a mixture of fear and anger.
"One gun for five guys? You call that a chance to save your life? I'll be a bloody sieve before I can move. There's no way I'm getting out of here, and you know it. You're a crazy, sadistic bastard!" Omega spat in a trembling voice that for the first time showed the true depth of his inner fear, his eyes wet with unshed tears.
His Alpha would have wanted to comfort the Omega, but he was also proud, growling over and over that Dean was strong, brave, and would be the best protector for Castiel's pups. In fact, he had men twice his age, even Alphas, sitting in the same chair, crying and begging for their lives long before this Omega showed his first real fear and tears.
"I admit it's a small chance, but it's still a chance to get back to your brother."
"As you know --" Dean fell silent before he could finish his question, clenching his jaw.
Castiel knew what he wanted to ask, so he answered his half-unspoken question:
"You weren't hard to find. The wallet you lost in the store had papers made by my own people. We keep a record of when, what document, under what alias, but most importantly, where we issued it. It was easy to find where the fake driver's license was issued in the name of Chester Bennington. Then all we had to do was find cheap motels in the area and check them out with your photo. The receptionist at the motel was very helpful. He told us about your brother and where you work.
With each word, a stronger scent of fear wafted from Omega, almost balanced by the scent of anger. Dean's breathing was intermittent, his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth, the chair beneath him creaking piteously as he gripped its edges tightly, looking Castiel straight in the eye the entire time.
"Don't touch my brother!" Omega growled. He really growled, deep and fierce, more like a young Alpha, and it almost made Castiel's Alpha respond in kind.
"I have no reason to hurt your brother," he said very calmly instead of growling. "He has never seen me or my men. But you should think about what will happen to him if he loses you. As far as I know, you're the only one taking care of him, and if you don't leave here alive, he'll have no one. Is that what you want?"
"What does it matter what I want? You're going to kill me anyway!"
"You still have a second choice."
"What's the second choice?" He snorted instead of actually asking.
Castiel leaned forward.
"You're my True Mate, and I'd rather see you by my side than dead."
"What does that mean?"
"Let me get to know you better..."
Something flickered across Omega's face, a brief expression Castiel couldn't place, and Dean looked around again. Then he glanced back at the gun, which still sat on the wooden crate, ready for use. For a moment, Castiel feared that Omega would choose the first option and try to shoot his way through. His chances would be next to nil. Fortunately, he didn't.
He turned his eyes back to Castiel.
"Better to know?" Dean repeated, less explosive, more cautious and a little flat. "And if I agree to... get to know you better, you'll let me live and you won't hurt Sammy?"
"Yes."
"How can I trust you?"
"You have my word. And my word is law."
Omega stared defiantly into his eyes for several long moments before suddenly lowering his gaze to the ground. His shoulders slumped, his entire body relaxed as if he had flipped a switch or suddenly given in to his Omega instincts, and he tilted his head to the side to expose his neck.
"Okay. I agree. Let's... get to know each other better," he agreed in a suddenly quiet, calm, almost bland voice, his words seemingly addressed more to the concrete at Castiel's feet than to Castiel himself.
On the one hand, his Alpha growled contentedly because the Omega he wanted had done what he was supposed to; he had submitted and accepted him as his Alpha. But it was also deeply unsatisfying to see the now defiant Dean, who hadn't been afraid to look him in the eye and defy him, suddenly give in. That was not what he wanted. He liked the fire in this Omega. The incredible ferocity that made him more like an Alpha. And that was coupled with the perfect scent and the promise of the things he instinctively craved as an Alpha; to have someone to belong to and protect. To have puppies. To have a territory, a den within it, and a nest within that den that his Omega would create for them. This special omega.
He suppressed his discontent. He got what he wanted; he didn't have to kill Dean, and that was the most important thing.
The other things would come in time, he assured himself as a satisfied smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
Notes:
1. Castiel and Oksana speak English together because Castiel does not speak Ukrainian and Oksana does not speak Russian. English is the language they both understand.
2. Five thousand US dollars is equivalent to one hundred and twenty thousand Ukrainian hryvnias. The average monthly salary in Ukraine is thirteen thousand hryvnia. For Oksana's mother, five thousand dollars is a lifetime of debt. For Castiel? I don't know... a new watch?
...
Russian dictionary:
Prekrati eto! - Stop it!
Eta suka slomala mne nos! - That bitch broke my nose!
Durak! Ne zabyvayte zakazy! - Fool! Don't forget our orders!Ukrainian dictionary
v doma v Ukrayini - At home in Ukraine
Probach meni - Forgive me!
Chapter Text
The sweet smell of cherries with a hint of honey overwhelmed him, as if someone had actually placed a freshly baked cake in front of him. The smell of a happy Alpha. It was heavy and fell on his hunched back like a warm blanket. Suddenly, at least for a little while, he didn't feel like he was doing something against his will when he forced himself to bend his head and show his neck. He knew the feeling. It happened to him sometimes, when his father was really happy, he'd put his arm around his shoulders, pull him close and flood him with his scent. Then his Omega would curl up into a ball, purring contentedly and enjoying the feeling of security it gave him.
Only it was Dad. His Alpha. This was the fucking mob boss who was about to... get to know him better. He barely suppressed a bitter grin and forced himself to keep his head down. Why all the stupid talk? He might as well have said he'd spare Dean's life and not hurt Sammy by pulling down his pants and bending over the nearest barrel.
With a sickening, icy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he realized that the Alpha didn't even have to pretend to give him a choice between his life and his brother's safety and getting fucked. The Alpha could have left him tied up, just thrown him to the ground and done whatever he wanted.
Dean couldn't stop him.
Yeah, he could and he would fight back. He would kick and bite and swear, but he would still end up with a knot in his ass because he didn't stand a chance. Not with his hands tied. Not without a gun. Not when Alpha had three other guys in charge who could easily stop him. And he couldn't even get away if he tried to use the gun in front of him to escape. He was a pretty good shot, but even the best and fastest damn shot in the world couldn't kill four armed guys before they killed him. Besides, these weren't just any assholes with guns, there were dozens of them, these were real criminals for whom killing was part of their job.
He was just screwed. His only option was to keep his head down, be a small, submissive Omega, and hope that Alpha would keep his promise and let him go in at least a somewhat usable state when he'd done his time.
Suddenly, a shiver of panic ran down his spine and his heart raced as he realized that maybe Alpha didn't just want to fuck. Maybe 'getting to know each other' meant he wanted to mate with Dean. He was one of those guys who believed in True Mates.
He took a quick look at the gun that was still on the crate.
If he went for it, he'd be dead, and that would be pretty fucked up, because then Sam would be alone. He probably wouldn't even worry about it the first day, he had enough food and medicine, and it wouldn't be the first time Dean didn't come home at night. He'd wait another two or three days, worrying, before he started calling hospitals and morgues and his dad's friends. Eventually he would call to Dad, and hopefully he would be back before Sammy ran out of money.
If the Alpha had mated with him, it would have been only slightly better. He damn well doubted he'd let him go back to Sam, but maybe he'd at least let him call and reassure him that he was okay. Then Sam wouldn't do something stupid like go looking for him and Dean wouldn't have to worry about him when he was trying to find a way to get away from the Alpha.
From what he'd heard, it was damn hard for a mated Omega to leave his Alpha, and it had unpleasant consequences. Something about the Omega becoming addicted to the Alpha's pheromones, and without them, nausea, vomiting, anxiety, things like that. Just a lot of shit that I'm sure he could handle somehow, except maybe...
He swallowed hard.
Mating might have triggered the heat. If everything went to shit, and most of the time it did, because that was Dean's life, he could wake up in the morning mated and with an Alpha puppy whose name he didn't even know.
Would that have been so bad? The sick, twisted Omega part of his brain asked. Look at that Alpha. He smells like pie, like home, like safety, and he even looks pretty damn good. Those blue eyes to drown in, the sexy tousled hair and the softly tanned muscles that showed under his shirt. He was also strong, fucking rich, and literally a killer, so he could take care of you. And he was in charge of not one or two dangerous guys, but maybe an entire criminal organization or gang. There was something exciting about all of this that actually made his Omega growl contentedly, telling Dean himself that he could trust the Alpha, even if it was complete bullshit.
He knew that he was indeed in big trouble.
He searched for gun again. Maybe now that the Alpha was convinced that he wouldn't try anything, he could...
"We're done here for the day," Alpha said and stood up.
This was obviously an order for the sprawled Beta, who had been at Alpha's side the whole time, to take his gun out of the box and thus take away any chance Dean had to defend himself. There was still the matter of trying to escape, but he'd take a bullet in the back.
"Come on, Dean, you're coming with me," Alpha urged him.
Of course, he wanted to take him somewhere else. What was he thinking, that this Alpha would want to do anything in an old warehouse. After all, he had a watch worth six months' food budget. Surely he wouldn't want to spend half an hour knotting up with Dean, his pants around his knees, in the cold, with rusty water dripping down his collar.
"Yes, Alpha," he replied as calmly as he could, even though he wanted to tell him to fuck off and at the same time felt the words knot in his throat, tight with fear.
He stood up and allowed himself to look up as well, noticing that Alpha was pulling on his jacket, which had been left on the chair. It was well cut, but for some reason it still made Alpha look more like an accountant than a mobster. Yeah, he wasn't exactly Don Corleone, at least not at first glance, but when Dean looked around, he knew that was exactly who Alpha was.
He exuded an aura that kept the big Beta at a respectful distance, and the other two Betas began clearing away chairs without a single command from the Alpha. It wasn't the first time they'd done this. They knew their jobs damn well.
The Alpha straightened his cuffs in a learned motion and gave Dean a long look before he turned and walked in the opposite direction the two Betas had pulled Dean before.
His eyes wandered unconsciously to the open door. Maybe he still could... the sprawled Beta blocked his view and put a hand to his side so that he could pull off his warm down jacket and show off his gun holster too ostentatiously. He didn't have to say anything. Everything was clear.
He followed Alpha across the warehouse to the other exit, where a black car was waiting. An old model Mercedes, he couldn't tell how old because he wasn't very familiar with European cars. But it looked expensive and shined in a way that made it clear that someone had taken great care of it.
Before they could reach the car, the driver's door opened and -
Fuck!
The biggest, most muscular man he'd ever seen in his life slid out of the car. He must have been over six feet tall and a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. It was a fucking miracle he fit in the driver's seat at all, he was that big, and besides... Dean sucked in air and smelled the Alpha painfully. The smell of red-hot iron and dried-on dirt mingled with a strong, pungent musk. The Alpha's face looked like it was carved out of stone, his hands were like damn paddles, and as he rounded the car, Dean could have sworn he was pushing air in front of him like a locomotive.
The huge Alpha stopped directly above him and Dean couldn't help but look up like a frightened rabbit.
"My driver and bodyguard. His name is Igor, but we call him Golem," the Alpha introduced him.
"Hmmm," was the Golem's only response, probably squeezed out of his huge nostrils, then he bent down and reached for the back door of the car, revealing a chunk of massive neck wrapped in a tattoo of bloody barbed wire. Another torturer, and not just any torturer, this one was known to have killed other prisoners and was proud of it.
"Do you know what Golem is, my Omega?" Alpha asked, interrupting him from staring at the giant's tattoo.
He turned to meet the blue eyes. He quickly lowered his gaze, as the small part of him told him to, and tried to completely ignore the much larger part that told him to look Alpha in the face and say, "I know damn well what a golem is. It's a message that says if you fight back, if you try to run away or do anything to me, Golem will crush you like a fly.
"No, Alpha, I don't know," he said instead.
"It's a creature from Jewish mythology," Alpha said, as if they were just talking, and put his hand on Dean's back. It was large and hot, its warmth seeping through his thin T-shirt and into his cold skin. Suddenly it occurred to him that it was the beginning of fall, the nights were already cool, and he was outside in just a t-shirt. Yes, that's exactly what he thought, the places of desperate panic he should have felt when the Alpha touched him. He didn't know why the hell he didn't freak out, but he just didn't. He remained calm under his touch, even unconsciously leaning in his direction, and finally, against his better judgment and what seemed like reason, he looked up into the Alpha's eyes.
His nose was immediately assaulted by the scent of the happy Alpha, and he inhaled it fully.
"Golems have many meanings and forms, and you'll find them in many Jewish stories, but the one our Golem is named after," Alpha spoke, gently pushing Dean toward the open car door, and to his own amazement, he didn't even resist, "is about the rabbi of Prague. He was called Rabbi Löw, a scholar and philosopher who actually lived in the second half of the sixteenth century. Legend has it that he used the secret arts of the Jews, even the secret of Creation itself, to bring to life a mighty being kneaded from clay to protect his charges," he paused in his narrative, his eyes sliding to Dean's jaw.
They rested there for a moment before he moved his hand from his back and gently took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning his head slightly to the side. "It's starting to bruise there. It could use an ice pack," he said conversationally before dropping his jaw again and nodding slightly at the car. "Get in."
It was clearly an order, but it didn't contain much force. It could easily be disobeyed, not that it made any sense. He didn't really have a way or a place to run, so he obediently climbed into the car.
He slipped into the homey smell of roasted cherries and almonds, which wasn't too strong because the air conditioning was on full blast, but it was lingering. It soaked into the expensive upholstery that covered every smooth surface. This was the Alpha's space, undisturbed by anything, not even the driver's smell, as the front of the car was separated from the back by a wall similar to the ones they had in taxis. Only this one was airtight, probably soundproof, and opaque, so the spacious back of the car was a private place where anything could happen and no one would see it. Even the windows were opaque from the outside. It was a bit of a trap.
Alpha got in and the Golem slammed the door behind him.
They were alone together in the suddenly small car.
Dean tensed in anxious anticipation. Was this supposed to happen here and now? Hell, yes, it could. There was plenty of room, much more than in the backseat of the Baby, and Dean knew he could do anything in there. The Alpha might as well have rolled him onto the seat or at least grabbed his hair and shoved his head into his crotch to have some fun before the big event of the evening in the form of Dean's virgin ass. He could do anything and no one would hear or see it. Not that the driver would have done anything even if he knew what was going on.
He pressed himself against the door, trying to get as far away as he could, which was as futile as trying to run away or letting go of all the newly rising anger that was choking his throat along with the lump of what he convinced himself were not swallowed tears. No matter what happened today or now, he was not going to give this lost Alpha the pleasure of seeing him cry or beg. He was going to be the obedient, submissive Omega he was expected to be, because he wasn't going to break any bones or pit the Alpha against himself - he might have acted like an idiot sometimes, but he wasn't really stupid and he knew the situation he was in - but he wasn't going to beg for his life or for mercy or for it to be over already. He would stay strong.
The car started moving.
He looked out the window, but it was no use. He already knew they were somewhere near the water, among the warehouses, but that was it.
He dug his nails into the seat and tried to pretend that he was alone in the car while he looked at the passing cars they had just squeezed in between. It was damn hard, though, because the strength of Alpha's scent increased the longer they were together in the small space, mixing with Dean's in a strangely soothing mixture. He inhaled it in small sips, but he inhaled it, and it comforted him in a strange way. His stomach was still coldly clenched with fear of what was to come, his jaw tight as he suppressed his anger, but his inner Omega was completely at peace. Lulled by Alpha's wonderfully tart scent, which made Dean's muscles feel strangely supple.
He felt almost... drunk and angry and scared all at the same time. It was the worst he'd ever felt because his Omega instincts were pulling him towards the scent of Alpha, Alpha himself, and his rational brain was reminding him over and over again what that same beautiful scented Alpha had made him agree to. What would he have to do tonight when... when they actually went where? He wondered with another pang of apprehension.
"Where are we going, Alpha?" He asked before he could decide if it was a reasonable question, and since he couldn't keep his mouth shut, he continued, "To your house? Or to the hotel?"
He hoped for the hotel. He certainly didn't want to go to Alpha's house. That was his territory, over which he had complete control and to which he literally held the keys. A hotel, even the best in town, was a public place. You couldn't leave a dead body in the hallway or lock someone in a room. The hotel was an escape. When the Alpha was done with him, he would definitely want to take a nap or a shower, and that would be Dean's chance to get out of the room. Then back to their motel, pick up Sam and get out of town as fast as he could.
He heard the creak of the seat and felt movement as the Alpha got closer. Very close. All the way into his personal space, so that their knees almost touched, and then a hand rested on his thigh.
He stiffened as much as his strangely flaccid muscles would allow and looked down at the hand that was protruding from his jeans. It was definitely much bigger than the hands he'd seen there, because they were the hands of Beta and sometimes Omega girls; tiny and delicate. The Alpha's hand was undeniably masculine, with thick black hair and the broad, scarred knuckles of a man who had dealt many blows. Which didn't go well with the meticulous manicure and the wide, shiny gold ring that largely covered some tattoos. Maybe a star or a pentagram...
Dean cleared his throat and sucked in some air.
The scent of cherry was all around him, intoxicating as ever and much more intense than when the Alpha sat at the other end of the seat. And it was changing fast. The honeyed sweetness of happiness mixed with the musky scent of arousal, stirring up a new wave of fear in Dean, and also... confusion? Yes, there was what he would have called the smell of surprise, confusion and uncertainty in everyone else. Ridiculous. As if that damned knotty Alpha could be confused about anything.
"You want to come to my place, Dean...?" The Alpha asked, the question clear at the end.
What the hell did that mean? Was he giving him the choice or something? He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing hysterically. He really was sitting here with a sadistic bastard. First he'd dragged him into some fucking Russian roulette, where he could either get shot or fucked, and now he was being given the choice again, where he'd rather get his ass kissed. Perfect. Beautiful! Alpha could go fuck himself.
"I'd rather go to a hotel if I have to choose," he replied, and fuck it, let the bastard hear all the bitter biting. "I don't think either of us wants me to know any more about you than I already do. Besides, we can order some food for the room when we're done."
He kept his eyes downcast the whole time, trying not to look back at Alpha with a grin.
The silence stretched.
"Look at me," Alpha ordered.
It was a much firmer order this time than the last, and it would take some effort to resist the natural voice telling him to comply. But in this case he didn't even want to resist. He wanted to look the bastard in the eye the whole time and show him that he wasn't afraid of him. That he wasn't really the submissive Omega bitch he wanted to make him out to be.
He looked straight into Alpha's cerulean eyes, which were slightly narrowed. The Alpha tilted his head to the side in a gesture of utter confusion and even parted his lips slightly to show his golden fangs. He would have looked almost endearingly clueless if this wasn't the same guy who had killed two Betas in front of Dean and then had him kidnapped just to get him to agree to get fucked.
"Where do you think I'm taking you?" Alpha asked.
"What do I know..." he snorted, bitterness in his voice. "Probably back to your place or some hotel. Just somewhere with a bed. I mean, I hope you want to do it on a bed because, man, I hurt my knee a while back and I don't really feel like kneeling on the floor. So I'm definitely voting for a bed if I have a vote."
The Alpha watched him without blinking, only his eyebrows furrowed and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. Dean could guess what he was feeling. His own excited scent and then Dean's anger and fear. He could do his best not to let on how scared he was, and if it was the scent, he could fill it more with his anger, but he still couldn't completely cover the fear. He just couldn't, no matter how hard he tried not to be a whiny omega bundle of nerves.
Suddenly the hand was off his thigh and Alpha pulled away.
"We're going back to your motel."
No! No! Fuck, no!
He didn't want Alpha anywhere near Sammy.
He clenched his fists, ready to use them.
"You said you wouldn't hurt Sammy! You gave me your word!"
"I don't intend to hurt your brother."
"Then why are we after him? Huh?! You want to fuck me while he's in the bed next door, you crazy psycho?" He spat angrily, intending it to be an insult before realizing it might as well be true. The Alpha couldn't have been younger than Dean's father and had kidnapped a sixteen-year-old boy. That said a lot about his twisted tastes.
"I don't want to... fuck you, Dean," the Alpha replied, surprisingly calm for a small, meek Omega who growled and attacked him furiously.
"Sure...! You just want to get to know me better," he scoffed, knowing that he was overdoing it, but he didn't care. If he couldn't protect Sam, it didn't matter what the Alpha did to him. And maybe if she took it out on him, he'd leave Sam alone.
"You thought 'getting to know each other' meant sex?" The Alpha wondered, and it seemed his surprise was genuine, he even smelled of confusion again.
He was laughing now.
"What else would it mean!"
"Exactly what I said," Alpha replied, still calm. "I'm a very... how do I put this in your language... Straight man...?" He said it half with a question at the end. "Believe me, I usually mean what I say literally. When I asked for a chance to get to know you better, I meant that I want to know more about you. I want us to get to know each other. Sex will come later."
Alpha was mad. Completely crazy or... or he was telling the truth. Dean honestly wasn't sure which was worse. At least if he was telling the truth, it meant his ass was safe for the moment.
"You want me to believe you and I don't even know your name."
The Alpha frowned slightly and opened his mouth in confusion.
"You're right, I haven't told you yet," he admitted with that thoughtful, confused expression Dean found endearing; God, that was sick thinking. The Alpha held out a hand, the same one he had placed on his thigh a moment ago, and introduced himself: "Castiel Novak.
He stared at the proffered hand in disbelief. The gesture was so absurdly formal that most of his fear and anger melted away in utter confusion. After all the turmoil of emotions, all that was left was a flutter in his stomach and a nearly empty head, so when he raised his hand to accept the offered greeting, it was more automatic than conscious.
"Dean Winchester," he replied learnedly, even giving his real name.
"I know," the Alpha pointed out as his hand dropped.
There was silence again. Neither of them moved. Dean because he was afraid to break the strange silence. And Alpha because... Dean wasn't sure what he was doing. He watched Dean's face intently and very closely, as if he wanted him to submit, like a proper Omega. But there was nothing remotely resembling an Alpha pose in the way he held his shoulders and how relaxed his features were. And there was nothing more to his scent than cherries and almonds with a happy, sweet hint of honey and the last vestiges of musky excitement that the air conditioning was quickly dissipating.
He just watched in silence, as if Dean was all he wanted to see.
And Dean didn't know what to do but watch in return. To study his face. A sharp chin, dusted with a day's growth of stubble, but it didn't hide the thin, faded scar on the left side of his lower jaw. Slightly parted, pale pink lips that showed the whiteness of teeth and the gleam of gold fangs. A really nice nose, but it had minor deformities that said it had been broken and straightened more than once. Wildly disheveled hair that probably didn't know what a comb looked like, thick and dark, though a little silver shone through. And finally, those incredible blue eyes, framed by tiny wrinkles at the corners and dark eyebrows, thinned in places by old scars.
He inhaled the cherry scent and licked his lips slowly.
"Now what?" He finally broke the awkward moment between them, because he needed to know what was coming. If Alpha was telling the truth and wasn't going to drag him somewhere in the hotel to tie him up, and if he wasn't even planning on hurting Sammy, Dean had no idea what was going to happen next tonight. Some bullshit about Kindred and getting to know each other was just... bullshit. He didn't buy it. He didn't get it. Hell, he was completely out of it. He didn't know the rules.
"I'm taking you back to your motel," Alpha said.
"And then?"
"Then?" Alpha repeated thoughtfully, frowning slightly, his gaze drifting to the side as if he were carefully considering what should happen next. "Then we could meet for lunch or dinner sometime next week. I own a little restaurant that makes great borscht, and it looks almost like home in Moscow." He actually smiled a tiny smile and tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes focused on Dean again with such intensity. "What do you say, Omega? We have much to talk about. For example, we need to find a better place for you and your brother to live. And a better job for you, if you want to keep working."
With those few sentences, the Alpha painted an incredible picture of his... no, their, his and Sam's future. They wouldn't be traveling from place to place anymore, Sammy could finally make real friends, he could study in peace, they would have a place to live - probably a nice one, maybe even a luxurious one - and who knew, maybe Sam could go to any university and not have to worry about getting a scholarship. Not that he didn't trust his little brother to get a scholarship anywhere he wanted. He was a smart puppy. But it was always better to be sure. Would the Alpha have given it to him? It sounded like it. He'd talked about housing for both of them, as if Sam was part of the package for him, even though he'd never seen him.
The idea was... nice. The omega in him purred contentedly, trusting this alpha who was simply perfect. Strong, caring and providing a safe and comfortable home for Dean and Sam.
No, bullshit!
The Alpha didn't really want to do anything like that. It was just a game. The kind of sweet talk he wanted to seduce Dean with, because it wasn't enough to just fuck him and tie him up and not have to worry about anything else, like any other Alpha would do. This Alpha, for some twisted reason, wanted Dean to actually go along with everything and maybe even fall in love. Probably because he was a crazy, murderous psychopath who believed in True Mates.
How stupid did the Alpha think Dean was? Probably a lot. Just a stupid, naive, manipulative little Omega who got wet at the first mention of him taking care of her and his puppy.
That alone was a warning. What kind of Alpha would take in a stranger's puppy? The idea was ridiculous. Alphas wanted their own puppies.
"Okay, Alpha," he agreed, not letting on that he'd seen through his game. Just let the Knot think he'd gotten what he wanted, and when he woke up in the morning looking for Dean, he and Sammy would be long gone from the city.
The happy smell of honey-sweet cherries filled the air along with the Alpha's smile. He looked so content as he narrowed his eyes and let out a... God, it sounded like a low purr, almost a growl, coming from his broad chest, giving Dean a strange warm feeling and a desire to purr back that tickled his throat.
He gritted his teeth and refused to give in to such a stupid Omega urge.
"Give me your phone," the Alpha demanded.
He didn't argue, he wanted to keep up the appearance that Alpha was buying his bullshit, so he just reached into his pocket and handed him his phone.
He watched in silence as Alpha stored what was probably his number on the phone, then made a quick call to get Dean's number, and finally handed the phone back to him.
"My number. Text or call if you want or need anything."
"Sure, Alpha," he agreed a second time, and after a quick glance at the display, which showed a simple 'Castiel' and a number, he shoved the phone back into his jeans.
Alpha seemed to be about to say something else, but something behind Dean's back caught his attention.
"Looks like we're at your motel."
As Alpha said this, he automatically turned his head to the window behind his back, where the silhouette of their motel was indeed looming, lit mostly by the neon sign at the entrance to the parking lot, but also a little by the few lights that dimly shone on the facade. He was so distracted that he didn't even notice when they pulled into the parking lot, or even when they stopped.
"I have something else for you," the Alpha got his attention again.
He turned to face him, tensing a little as the Alpha leaned in slightly. It quickly became apparent that he had just reached into his pocket and pulled out Dean's wallet. The damn wallet with the damn fake ID that was supposed to protect him but had actually gotten him into the shit he was in now.
The Alpha handed him the wallet and waited patiently with slightly raised eyebrows before he forced himself to move and carefully took it from him, as if it would explode at any moment. It didn't, of course. It was just a wallet.
The door behind him clicked as the driver opened it, and cold air enveloped his back. The way out was clear, but he still sat motionless, waiting for... hell, he didn't know what. Certainly not permission from Alpha. No, there was no way he needed that, so he didn't hesitate any longer and quickly slipped out of the car.
"And Dean..." came the voice from behind him, making him freeze and then slowly turn around to see Alpha leaning against the open door, "I look forward to seeing you again. Sleep well."
He didn't know what to say, so he just turned around and was about to make a quick dash for her room, only to almost run into the giant Alpha. The golem was still right in front of him, a hot wall of flesh and acrid smell, looking down at Dean with small, cold eyes.
He nodded.
"Propusti yego, Golem," came the order from the car.
The giant Alpha made a vague grunt, but without protest or delay, he stepped aside and let Dean pass.
He quickly pushed past him and headed for the door, trying his best not to run. He wanted to be inside as soon as possible, in a place that seemed at least somewhat safe, and he especially wanted to check on Sam, but he knew there was nothing more foolish than running from not one Alpha, but two.
He got to the motel door and reached into his pocket for the key, and as he tried to open it, failing twice to get the key into the lock, he noticed that his hands began to shake slightly.
He clenched his jaw, forced himself to control the shaking, and finally managed to unlock and open the door.
A damp snore greeted him in the room, the air heavy with the smell of sickness and a few days of unwashed Alpha puppy. Normally, this would have pissed him off. As if he hadn't told Sam a hundred times to air out the room for at least ten minutes every day when the air conditioner was practically inoperable. But this time, relief washed over him.
He took just two steps to make sure Sammy was in his bed with his back to the door, then quickly walked over to the window and looked out.
The Mercedes had just started, circled the parking lot, and then headed for the exit. He watched it just long enough for it to join the traffic on the street, then started packing. They couldn't take much because they didn't have a car. Dad dropped them off with all their stuff, then took the Impala and drove away completely light, with just what he was wearing and a small bag.
That meant they had luggage for three people, plus a bag of guns. He'd have to take that for sure, and the essentials like toothbrushes and a few changes of clothes in a common bag. He didn't know where they were going yet. He ran through the list of all their friends and acquaintances in his head and hadn't chosen a name yet. But he knew they had to leave now, tonight, if they were to have any chance of getting away.
He placed both bags by the door. All he had to do was grab the money he'd left in Sammy's kitchen tonight and a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and he could wake Sam up to get dressed and then head out. The buses might have shitty intervals at night, but he'd rather sit at the station until morning than stay in a motel.
He took the money from the counter and was about to put it in his pocket when he froze.
On the other side of the parking lot, under the only lamp that wasn't lit, was a dark car that hadn't been there ten minutes ago. Sure, it could have been a new customer at the motel, but the car windows were open and as Dean slowly approached the window to get a better look, he saw that there were two men sitting in the car. One of them had just reached out to flick the ash from his cigarette.
Dean backed up and leaned against the shelf where the microwave was.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He groaned in a desperate whisper so as not to wake Sammy.
He didn't remember another car following Alpha's Mercedes, but it wasn't like he was concentrating. He wasn't. He sat, squeezed into the corner like a bundle of nerves, thinking only that Alpha wanted to bend him over and fuck him. He'd screwed up. He'd forgotten the training that spoke clearly; finding escape routes, looking for weapons, checking the area. He hadn't done any of that, and now they were both trapped.
"Fuck..." he drew his last breath and pressed his hand to his mouth.
He had to figure out what to do. Of course, he couldn't leave right now. The guys in the car were surely here for a reason; to keep him in town. If he tried to escape... yeah, he imagined that the weird deal he had with Alpha would fall through and that would be the end of it. He could totally see himself and Sam sinking to the bottom of the Hudson with their concrete boots.
God, this was so fucked up.
He needed help.
And he needed a gun.
He did that first. He pulled a 9mm out of his gun bag, loaded it, and then sat down at his desk before pulling out his cell phone. He had no choice but to call their Alpha, because if there was any chance of getting out of here, it was with his dad and the car.
After five rings, a voice came on instructing him to leave a message.
"I have a problem, sir. I need your help. Sammy is fine, but call me as soon as you can, Alpha," he left a brief message before hanging up. Dad hated long conversations and always reminded him not to leave messages telling where he was or why he was calling. That was too much information for the enemy to use against him.
He put his cell phone down on the table, but kept his hand on it and did the same with his gun. Finally, with a sigh, he leaned back against the hard back of the chair and waited.
Notes:
Propusti yego, Golem - Let him go, Golem
Chapter Text
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He raised his head sharply.
His heart was pounding, and at first he wasn't sure where he was. Then he realized he'd fallen asleep with his head on the table, cell phone in one hand and gun in the other. Loaded. Nice work, Winchester, trying to blow your head off in your sleep, he chided himself. Then he rubbed his weary face, creased from the hard tabletop, and frowned at the sun shining at that uncomfortable autumnal angle outside the window. It looked like a nice day.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Another knock made him stiffen. Who could it be? Certainly not the motel manager, for it was only Friday and the next week's pay was always due Monday morning. Of course, things like mail or packages didn't come their way. Maybe another guest.
He got up and slowly walked over to the window to look out. Luckily, he could see the door and... Damn it. Shit. One of Alpha's men was standing in front of the door. The disheveled Beta male Alpha had borrowed the gun from yesterday, the one he had so willingly and mercifully offered to Dean to execute himself in the crossfire. He was balancing two shopping bags in one hand and a smaller white bag with some kind of logo on it in the other.
Dean looked at the gun on the table, then back at the guy. Was it safe to open it and send it somewhere? Or should he have waited until he left on his own? No, the guy didn't look like he wanted to leave. He could have sent him through the door, but that might wake Sammy, and the last thing he wanted was his little brother asking nosy questions about who he was and why he'd come.
He grabbed the nine, glanced over on the way to the door to make sure Sam was still asleep, then carefully pushed the door open. The gun was firmly in his hand, the barrel pointing to the floor, but in such a way that the guy could see it through the crack.
Surprisingly, Beta smiled broadly as soon as the door opened, his smile fading just a little when he noticed the gun. It was clear that he was used to people walking around with guns in their hands.
"Hello, kid," he said in a friendly tone with a thick Russian accent, picking up the white bag and puffing a little on the large paper bag. "Batyushka sent you something."
"Who?" It fell out of him uncomprehendingly. Bat-what? The word confused him.
"Batyushka. The boss. Mr. Novak... Alpha Castiel," Beta clarified with a lingering smile.
Obviously he meant his boss. Why hadn't he figured it out right away? Who else would have sent Beta here if not Alpha - Castiel, he should call him that, if only to avoid confusion - so it could only have been Alpha Castiel who sent Beta here with... was it really a purchase? And that little bag, could it have been food? The bag definitely had a restaurant logo on it.
Dean sucked in air.
He could still smell mostly himself, since he hadn't bathed since yesterday and was soaked in the stench of the kitchen and the disinfectant, but beyond that he could smell the aroma of baked cheese and ham, plus Beta's very faint sea-like smell, which was almost overwhelmed by the strong, sweet cologne. He didn't sense any aggression, the guy even looked calm.
"Can I come in, kid?" Beta asked as the silence stretched, trying to keep it small. He hunched his shoulders and tilted his head to show his neck. These things always looked strange on Betas. They didn't do them naturally because their instincts were weak. They couldn't understand the subtle nuances of scent and posture between Alphas and Omegas.
"No, you can't, man. I don't even know your name."
"Pyotr, but you can call me Peter," the Beta introduced himself, holding the white bag right in front of Dean's nose. "I brought baked bagels with ham and cheese. There are six of them, but I'll send for more if that's not enough for you. I have nephews your age, and I know that boys like you are like piranhas."
Dean frowned at the bag and then at Beta. The same guy who yesterday had been ready to kill him and dump him in the Hudson and had calmly listened to the Alpha talk him into a deal that definitely involved sex, was today acting like a good uncle and talking about how boys had to eat a lot when they grew up. He should tell him to fuck off, except... the bagels smelled so good it made Dean's stomach growl.
The loud noise was impossible to miss and brought an amused smile to Beth's face.
"Okay, come on in, but don't make any noise. Sammy's still sleeping," he finally agreed, for what could possibly go wrong? Obviously, Alpha Castiel claimed him as his Omega, literally his property, and if this... Pyotr wasn't a complete idiot, he certainly wouldn't touch Alpha property the way Castiel Novak did. Besides, he'd seen the Beta's respectful and submissive attitude towards the Alpha.
He slowly opened the door, but got a better look at the guy before he stepped aside. He was as tall as Dean's Alpha, even taller than Dean, with broad shoulders, a big belly arching over the waistband of his lounge pants, and a face that looked like a boxer's. Flat and scarred. He wore a dark red shirt made of a strange, shiny material like a woman's blouse. It was unbuttoned enough to reveal the head of the Virgin Mary tattooed on his hairy chest and a golden cross similar to the one Alpha Castiel wore. And over his shoulders was a black leather jacket that he definitely couldn't button up over his round belly.
He had the cheerful smile of a good uncle and a little too much gel in his hair.
Beta came in and stood politely in front of the door.
"Put those on the table," he demanded, half commanding, and watched as Beta obediently and quietly carried the bags to the kitchen table.
"The boss said..." the Beta began as he put the bags down and turned to Dean, only to be interrupted by sounds from behind the screen.
They both turned their lunches in that direction.
"Ahrm... Dean?" Sam muttered absently from the bed.
Dean didn't bother with pleasantries, just opened the door and gestured outside with his gun. This time, Beta frowned a little, but left the room obediently anyway.
He slammed the door behind him and shoved the gun into his bag, just in time to see Sam, who had emerged from behind the screen, do nothing more than stand at the door and lock it.
Sammy staggered, frowning a little, and then his eyes fell on the bags.
"Who were you talking to?" He asked on his way to the table.
"No one... just... the guy in the other room," he quickly corrected himself when his brother shot him one of his looks and got to the table before Sammy could start rummaging through the bags. He didn't know what strange things Alpha Castiel might have given him, and he wasn't about to risk his little brother finding out first. "I met him outside on my way back from shopping. We got to talking about the weather and stuff. You know... the usual bullshit," he said casually, and after a quick glance inside the white paper bag, he pulled out two delicious-smelling bagels. "Breakfast!" He said cheerfully, placing the bagels in front of Sam.
His brother measured him with a piercing look before taking a bagel and biting into it hungrily.
"Okay..." Sam cooed over a bite. "Who hit you?"
Dean froze, his mouth open around his own bagel, but only for a moment. Then he quickly took a big bite, giving himself time to chew and also to consider the answer. He didn't know how bad his jaw was, but he guessed from the fact that Sam wasn't angry and in pain that it wouldn't be too bad. His lip was dragging a bit, but he could chew normally and everything. He hadn't checked his stomach either, but it didn't hurt to breathe on its own, only when he breathed too much, and now when he ran his hand over it, it kind of hurt moderately. He'd been punched in the stomach a few times before. In the end, the guy probably hadn't really meant to hurt him last night, probably because he'd been ordered to bring Dean in alive and in working condition.
"Just some idiot in a bar. He didn't like that I beat him at pool," he replied, mentally patting himself on the back for that answer, because the money he'd won at pool explained why he could afford a hot breakfast and the big purchase that was on the table next to them. Speaking of shopping...
He glanced at the bags.
He was skeptical of what might be inside and didn't want Sam to peek first, so he stuffed the rest of the bagel into his mouth and took another, then got up from his chair to look inside the bag. The contents looked perfectly normal at first glance, so he slowly began to pull them out.
The first bag contained a large bottle of milk. Orange and apple juice, the good, expensive kind that wasn't just water with sugar and fruit flavoring. Wet wipes and a smaller bag from the pharmacy. He checked its contents carefully, but it was just medicine for a fever, something for a cough, and vitamin C, just stuff for someone with a cold, except... how the hell had Alpha found out that Sammy was sick? Did the motel clerk know and tell him? Or did he have them followed?
The other seemed frighteningly likely, considering - he glanced at the window - yes, the car from last night was still there. Two figures were still in it, and Pyotr was leaning against the open window, smoking.
In the other bag were such ordinary things as bread, chocolate cereal, macaroni and frozen pizzas. Just the kind of food he would buy, because all he had to do was pour warm water over it or heat it up in the microwave. But there were also tomatoes, apples, and bananas. He couldn't remember the last time they had fresh fruit. Sure, they used to have it at school, and when he could, he'd bring it home to Sammy so he could have something healthy too, but he didn't buy it. It was expensive and perishable. You couldn't put it in a bag without it turning to mush.
"Bananas!" Sammy grunted excitedly, flooding the air with so much of the smell of a happy Alpha puppy that it shouldn't have been possible when he saw an ordinary banana. Sam had always been strange. "Since when..." he wrinkled his nose, "do we buy fruit?" He asked, but he already had one of the bananas in his hand and was peeling it.
"A little vitamin can't hurt." He shrugged casually.
"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" Sam asked in return, frowning suspiciously at the banana he'd just bitten into.
"Don't be such a bitch, bitch." He grinned in return. "I just got lucky. Big bets and all. So don't complain and be glad you can fill the breadbox with some of your beloved rabbit food."
Sam made a face, but didn't answer, because he actually had a banana stuffed in his mouth while somehow mysteriously managing to pop the noodles.
"And blow your nose," he added, sending wet tissues across the table. God knew he needed them, because his nose was all red and swollen from sniffling. But when he spoke, he sounded better now, and he had a nice color, too. On Monday he could finally go to school.
"Shouldn't you be in school?" Sam asked as if he could read his mind.
Shit! He probably should have...
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. It was a quarter to ten, so no hurry. He wasn't going to make his first class anyway, and he didn't really care, except... he had a text from Lisa, Becky, and Kevin, and all three of them were asking him where and if he was coming to school. Lisa was even worried about him, asking if anything had happened to Sammy or their Alpha. That probably had something to do with the fact that he had stopped answering her the moment she had texted him yesterday about going to bed. It was the best part of their conversation and he had missed it. Oh, shit.
But there was more than just messages from friends.
Castiel.
That damn name was staring him in the face, and... it made his stomach drop. He'd like to think it was anger or... hell, it could have been fear, but the truth was that it was his omega instincts reacting to the mere memory of Alpha. Even the stupid name reminded him of the smell of cherries and almonds, and even... he clenched his jaw angrily. He certainly didn't want to remember Alpha's musky aroma, his big hand on his thigh, and he certainly didn't want the memories to excite him, but there it was. He could feel the telltale warm curl deep in his belly and the whispering voice of his Omega self telling him how great it was that an Alpha as strong as Castiel wanted him.
Angrily, he opened the message. He knew he couldn't let it go unanswered, no matter what it said.
Castiel: Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well? Did Pyotr bring you everything you needed?
He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but probably not this. Those few perfectly normal sentences seemed somehow strange in the context of the fact that he'd been texted by the Russian mobster who'd kidnapped him a few hours ago.
Still, he found himself not even hesitating as he put his fingers to the keyboard to reply.
Dean: hi... yes... he also brought a lot of bagels for breakfast.
He sent a message before hesitating and typing another one:
Dean: thanks alpha.
Considering what an Alpha he was, it was definitely wise to say thank you, and besides, his dad had raised him to be polite and act like it. Well, most of the time. Not everyone around him deserved to be treated politely.
He was about to put the phone down, feeling he'd done what he had to do, when another message came through.
Castiel: Glad to hear it.
Castiel: If you need anything before 5pm call. Texting doesn't always wake me.
He blinked at another message. Again, it seemed so casual, friendly, and informative at the same time, as if they'd known each other for years and this wasn't the first time they'd texted. Rationally, he knew it was weird, but it didn't feel that way, and it annoyed him. And it annoyed him even more when he found himself putting his fingers on the keyboard again. Was he completely out of control? Damn it! He was not a needy Omega waiting for his Alpha's every word. There was no! Just not! And this knot wasn't even his Alpha... Just...
Dean: will you go to sleep now?
Are you going to sleep now? Really? That's the most intelligent question you could ask Winchester, he grinned smugly. If the Alpha was sure you were a stupid, naive Omega until now, he'll think you're completely out of your mind.
Castiel: I 'm an owl. And I live mostly at night.
Castiel: As you've already learned.
Alpha's answers seemed like a bit of a joke or something deadly serious. He didn't know which it was.
"The girl from school?" Sammy asked suddenly.
Dean looked up in surprise.
"No... just a guy from class," he lied immediately.
His brother pulled back and measured him with his all too bright and therefore unbearable gaze.
"Alpha?" He intoned, and although he sounded curious, his scent was a little bitter with hostility, but also with concern. He probably wasn't even aware of it, he certainly couldn't feel his nose stuffy and his throat full of mucus, but he was reacting like a stupidly possessive Alpha who was about to have his Omega taken away from him. Or no, not really, but it was definitely the first time he'd felt anger from Sam when he thought he was sleeping with someone, and actually the first time he'd assumed it was an Alpha. Which in itself was... what the hell? It was none of his business who Dean fucked, if anyone.
"No, it's not Alpha."
"Oh," he sniffed again, licking his lips. "I thought... you looked so stunned that I thought maybe..."
"Maybe what?" he asked sharply. "That I'd met some knotty guy, my omega instincts had gone haywire, and now I'm going to run after him like an obedient little dog?"
Sam looked surprised at his outburst, then frowned and a wave of bitter anger rolled out of him, along with a low growl masked by the wet sound of mucus in his throat.
"You know damn well that's not what I meant!" He defended himself angrily. "I just meant..." he paused, either to take a deep breath to calm himself or to wipe his wet nose with his sleeve. "There's nothing wrong with liking an Alpha. Seventy-three percent of male Omegas are attracted to male Alphas, you know? There's nothing weird about that, so... if, you know... if, just in theory, there was an Alpha... or maybe not even an Alpha... then I think it's okay."
With a sigh, Dean opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't really know what. He closed it again. He didn't have the energy for it, not after everything that had happened last night, and he still had to shower and try to make second period... well, maybe third.
"I don't have time for this. I have to go to school. Finish those bagels and I want to see you in bed when you leave," he ordered, ruffling Sam's hair as he walked past him to the bathroom.
The little Alpha grunted in annoyance and ducked, which only amused Dean, so he grinned at Sam's pouty expression and closed the bathroom door behind him.
He was alone.
He leaned against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He had a bruise about the size of his thumb on his jaw, and when he pulled his lip back a little, he saw a bloody cut on the inside of his lip, but nothing serious. He pulled off his shirt and looked down at his stomach. There were nicely shaped bruises from his fists, nice and close together, almost merging into one big one.
He felt them carefully and hissed with pain.
A quick, warm shower would definitely help.
Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom to find his brother sitting obediently in bed, his laptop on his lap and an apple in his hand. Sammy ran his eyes over his bruises and frowned, but neither of them said anything. It wasn't the first time he'd come home beaten, and honestly, this didn't look too bad. Hardly a school fight.
He threw on some clothes, stuffed his books into his bag, and when he looked for his jacket, he realized that it must still be hanging in the diner. Damn job. He had no choice but to borrow Sam's. It was a little unusual because it smelled like a little Alpha, which wasn't unpleasant, on the contrary, it was comforting, but his father's scent, deep in his old leather jacket, was better. It always made him feel so much more... powerful, and that was something he definitely needed right now.
Pull yourself together, Winchester. You're not a whiner, he reminded himself, but as he shoved his cell phone into his pocket, he checked to see if he'd gotten a text or anything from his dad, and his gut tightened a little when he realized he hadn't. He hadn't expected it, their Alpha never answered right away, but this time he damn well might. Yes, he was pretty sure that if he was a good Omega and went along with Alpha Castiel, they wouldn't be in any immediate danger, but he wanted to get out of here, and Dad... Dad was the only option.
He zipped up his jacket, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked out.
Just outside the door he stood and stared at the car on the other side of the parking lot and especially at the three guys who were in it or near it. All three returned his gaze, not even trying to look inconspicuous. He must have seen them all on this side of the building, including the receptionist. It pissed him off. If they had to watch him, they could do it without Sammy noticing.
He pointed directly at them.
"Hey!" He addressed them without the slightest courtesy, barely suppressing the angry snarl that tugged at his lips; an instinct to protect his puppy. "Are you going to follow me all the time?"
Pyotr pushed away from the car he was leaning against and walked toward him, arms outstretched, palms up as if to show he was harmless.
"We're not following you, kid," he dismissed the obvious, as if Dean might be blind and stupid. "Batyushka told us to protect you."
"Right," he grinned. "And from what?"
"Whatever." He shrugged, Beta wounded. "You're his Omega now. He wants you to be safe, and since he can't keep an eye on you personally, he sent us."
Pyotr's words had a strong effect on his inner Omega. It literally melted at the thought of the Alpha wanting to protect him, and with it came this nagging feeling that he should let himself be protected and not rebel when the Alpha offered him protection from members of his pack. Perhaps more than that, he should seek out the Alpha and stay by his side, where he would be safest.
He pushed such foolish thoughts away. He knew how to take care of himself, and he certainly had no desire to be protected by a pack, regardless of the fact that these Betas were not here to protect him.
"So you wouldn't try to stop me if I decided to leave town?"
Pyotr's face, previously soft with a small, friendly smile, changed completely. His features hardened and his expression became dangerously calm.
"I wouldn't advise you to leave without the boss's approval," he replied, showing his cards so clearly.
"Yeah... that's what I thought..." he said, and it should have sounded more angry, except his voice betrayed bitter resignation rather than defiance. "You're here mainly to keep me here, and probably to deliver me," he emphasized the word by pointing to the bruise on his face, "to your boss when he's in the mood for some fun again."
"On ne nastol'ko glup naschet amerikanskaya omega," came from the car.
He turned to Beta, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He was thin, with a ratty face and curly hair. He was wearing a ridiculous green tracksuit and tank top, under which he had a tattoo of a chain running from one pectoral muscle around the back of his neck to the other pectoral muscle. And sticking out between them was what looked like the chubby roof of a church.
Dean couldn't understand much of what he was saying, except for his secondary markings, and even that was enough to make him frown. He rarely heard the word 'Omega' in the same sentence as something he liked, and judging by Beta's cheerful grin, this time was no exception.
"What did he say about me?" He turned to Pyotr.
"He said that you're not stupid for an American Omega," Pyotr translated helpfully, whereupon he stepped closer and smiled again. "I think you're a smart kid too, and you know it's pointless to be... angry," he used a much milder word than Dean would have used, because Dean would have said something more like pissed off and somewhere deep inside still scared like last night. "We are not your enemies." With that he put a hand on Dean's shoulder and the other on his heart. "We are Russians, my boy, a warm and friendly people. Good food, good vodka, great fun... if you let us, we can be friends after all. After all, you're almost one of us."
He looked down at his hand in disapproval.
"Take your hand away," he growled, jerking his shoulder to get rid of the hand that was weighing him down.
With a sigh, Pyotr lifted both hands in a clueless gesture.
"Whatever you want," he said in a resigned tone with a hint of condescension, as if Dean was just a small, angry child who wouldn't eat his broccoli and Pyotr was his tired father who no longer had the strength to force it on him. "But remember, we're here for you. If you want or need something or have a problem with someone... just say the word. We'll take care of it."
"Okay. I have a problem I'm sure you can solve," he said, not forgiving himself for his slightly mocking tone. "If you have to follow me, try to do it out of sight. I don't want the motel manager to notice you and kick us out."
"You don't have to worry about that. The manager knows about us," Pyotr replied, as if that should be a comfort. It wasn't.
The hope that the manager had been bribed or threatened just once was now gone. He was probably one of them, or on their payroll. Oh, shit.
"But not Sammy. And I want to keep it that way, so just... move the car. " He tossed his head in the direction of the parking lot exit.
Pyotr sized him up briefly before nodding gravely.
"We'll stay out of the way. We don't want to scare your little brother."
He almost couldn't help laughing, although he did grin a little. He wasn't worried about scaring Sammy. Strange guys watching their motel room would piss him off more than it would scare him, because Sam didn't let anyone or anything scare him... except clowns and wardrobes. He just didn't want his little brother to know about it. He had to protect him.
"I'm going to school now." He swung the bag over his shoulder. "You guys shouldn't even show up there, because no offense, guys..." his eyes swept over all three of them, including the still completely silent driver in the shorts jacket who had been staring at his phone the whole time, "you all look like drug dealers, and they don't like to see those types here in America outside of school. You'd be behind bars in an hour."
He didn't wait for an answer because he figured he'd see them at school anyway. He just turned and walked. It was a long way to the school, even with the two bus stops.
"Mal'chik! Do you hear, mal'chik!" He heard the rat-face calling behind him.
Reluctantly, he looked back at Beta, who was leaning out of the window.
"How old are you?" the rat surprised him with the question.
He measured Beth suspiciously. As if he really cared how old Dean was. Although... maybe he did. For a moment he even thought about taking a year or two off, just to see what the guy's face would look like and if he'd mind his big Alpha boss chasing the little Omega boy. Then he figured no one would buy it anyway. He looked much older.
"Sixteen. Problem?" He raised one eyebrow clearly.
The rat's face turned cheerful.
"Old enough for a good fuck. Boss is lucky."
"Zamolchi!" Pyotr growled, and without hesitation he punched the ratman in the back of the head with such force that his head snapped forward and Beta yelped in indignation.
Dean would have preferred to hit him with his fist, and his hand clenched into a fist, but he couldn't fight within a few feet of their room. Sam wouldn't have missed it, if he hadn't noticed the mess they'd made so far.
He just had to get out.
With his hand still balled into a fist and his jaw clenched, he turned his back on the three and left them behind.
Notes:
Mal'chik - young man
Zamolchi - Shut up
Chapter 7
Notes:
Sorry for the long wait, but real life is a bitch. And bad news never comes alone.
Thanks for all the comments and kudos.
Chapter Text
He managed to get to class five minutes after the bell rang. He earned applause from a few of his classmates and a somewhat snide greeting from the teacher, who fell silent as her eyes wandered to Dean's jaw before sending him to his seat. He was glad that his seat was out of Becky's reach because he could see from the doorway that she wanted to know where he was and how he had gotten the split lip. Kevin just watched him with a frown, and when he returned the look, he quickly lowered his head to his notes.
The class was dragging terribly. He only half listened to the teacher and looked out of the window every now and then.
The classroom had windows facing the main road, and even though the school was separated from it by a fence, you could definitely see the cars passing by or parked near the school. But he couldn't tell if any of the parked cars had Alpha's men in them, or if a car would pass by repeatedly. He assumed there would be some, they just stayed out of the way... just like he'd ordered. He could hardly believe it, but it really looked like they were obeying him. If that was the case - hell, he hoped it was - it meant that at least he could do whatever he wanted on the school grounds, and maybe he'd be able to get away from them. Just following standard escape protocol, he'd already scouted the entrances for the kitchen and supply staff, so he knew how to slip out of the school undetected. They were also emergency exits, so it was easy to get out from inside. Getting back would be a bit of a problem without a key, but who wanted to go INTO the school?
"Could you come in for a moment, Mr. Winchester..." the English teacher, Mr. Dalton, demanded just as he was heading for the door, saving him from Becky's barrage of questions.
He slung his bag on to his shoulder and approached the department.
"That face looks bad. What happened to you?" The teacher asked, his eyes fixed on the bruise on Dean's jaw.
"I was riding my bike and I wasn't paying attention and I hit the curb," he lied easily, telling the truth in his own way. When he was thirteen, he really did hit the curb, flying over the handlebars and cutting his chin so badly that their Alpha had to stitch it up. The most believable lies always had as much truth in them as possible.
The teacher gave him a rather incredulous look.
"Is that why you didn't come to your first class?"
It was a trick question. If it had happened on his way to school in the morning, it still wouldn't have had that nice dark purple color to it, even if it had happened while he still had a chance to get to first period.
"No, I just overslept," he replied, not wanting to get caught.
"You haven't even been here a week and you're already skipping class without an excuse," the teacher pointed out, and from his tone Dean could already guess what was coming next.
There were two possibilities. Either he'd be labeled a lazy bastard with a future of a lifetime wiping tables at fast food joints or picking up trash around town. Or, at worst, he would start wondering if everything was okay at home and if their Alpha father was being rude to them.
He already had answers for both.
"I know that truancy, disruption, and bad grades have been a problem at your previous schools. All of the last twelve that have records have come to us." He measured him with a long look before continuing. "You live alone with your Alpha father and your younger brother who is also an Alpha, correct?"
" Yeah, it is..." he agreed neutrally, not sure where this was going. This seemed to be a new approach he hadn't experienced before.
"It shows in you," Dalton pointed out. "The way you dress, the way you act, all the trouble at school... It's important for young Omegas, especially boys, to have an Omega in the family to set an example and help them get in touch with their instincts.
That's what it was all about. Dalton didn't think he was a good Omega, so the professor thought he could talk to his soul and help him become a good Omega. As a Beta, he knew a lot about what Alphas wanted in their Omegas and what a "proper" Omega should look like. He probably had a forty-year-old teacher's manual for that.
"You should try some kind of club or optional class where you can express your natural instincts." With that, he reached into his files and pulled out a piece of paper, "Here. Take the list and choose something."
Since he was already an hour late today, he didn't want to provoke, so he obediently took the paper.
"Housework..." he read the first option and looked at the teacher. "Flower arranging is already taken?" He asked snidely. So much for not wanting to provoke.
The teacher frowned at his impertinence.
"This would be a good class for you," he said very seriously. "You'll learn how to manage money" - as if Dean hadn't been doing that most of the time for a long time -"how to make your Alpha's lair comfortable" - nothing prepares a man for the harsh realities of life better than knowing how to arrange his cushions according to Feng Shui - "and how to cook your Alpha well." Neither Dad nor Sammy ever complained about macaroni and cheese spray.
"I'll consider it, sir," he said neutrally, instead of laughing outright, and shoved the folded paper into his bag. "Can I go now? I don't want to miss the start of another class."
Dalton dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Dean happily left the classroom.
"Dean! What happened to your face?" Becky almost literally jumped at him from behind the door.
"I got punched."
"You got into a fight with someone?" Becky asked further, not sure if she was offended or more impressed by the tone.
"Yeah..." he replied absently.
He was sure that Lisa would show up sometime now. He wanted to see her and, more importantly, apologize for being so suddenly silent last night and not even checking in this morning.
He unconsciously took in the mix of smells wafting through the hallway before realizing that despite the smell of strawberries and cream and all the other smells wafting through the hallway, he probably wouldn't have been able to smell Lisa even if she had been standing right next to him. Let alone find her from a distance. So he craned his neck and looked around the corridor...
He saw her dark hair.
"I'll be right there."
Ignoring Becky calling after him, he made a beeline for Lisa, who had just disappeared around the corner. Despite his speed, he managed to catch up with her almost at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey, Lisa."
"Dean... hi," she replied, acknowledging him but not stopping or turning around.
"I wanted to apologize for not responding yesterday..."
"Whatever. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to," she brushed him off, again without looking.
"Hey, wait! That's not it!" He stopped her by gently grabbing her shoulder.
She turned sharply, and it was clear she was ready to issue a sharp rebuke before she saw his face and her expression changed completely.
"What happened to you?" He asked worriedly, and she even reached out to touch his bruised cheek lightly.
Her hand smelled of grass, dandelions, and some fruity soap, which together made a pleasant combination that he leaned into slightly. It was like spring. Subtle, barely perceptible, but it was there, and it wasn't as intense and erasing all thoughts from his brain as the scent of cherries and almonds.
He winced a little and hissed.
Partly because Lisa's gently stroking fingers touched the sore spot, and partly because an image of blue, squinted eyes flashed through his mind, literally fused with the memory of the scent of cherry pie.
Lisa quickly withdrew her hand.
"I'm sorry," she apologized guiltily. "Does it hurt much?"
"It's nothing," he shrugged off her concern. "I've been hit a few times."
"Did you fight? With who? With Marcus?" Lisa surprised him by mentioning Marcus specifically.
"No, I was in a bar and I beat a guy at pool who didn't like that he lost," he replied with the once tried and true lie... well, the one that had worked for Sam and was definitely cooler than claiming he'd banged his lip on the curb when he fell off his bike. "Why would you think I had a fight with Marcus?"
"I just heard what happened a few days ago... about Kevin... and I thought..."
"...that if you liked me, Marcus would be jealous?" He raised his eyebrows defiantly.
"I like you? Don't you think a little too much of yourself, Mr. Winchester?" Lisa replied with a laugh, but mostly her cheeks turned pink and her eyes lit up.
"At least I'm not falsely modest." He shrugged casually.
"No, definitely not," she agreed, continuing to laugh. "You're more like cheeky!"
" Yeah. That must be one of my most endearing qualities." He shook his head in mock seriousness.
"You're really unreal." She shook her head, but continued to smile, her eyes squinting a little, and those beautiful round lips parted. And her Beta scent had intensified so much that he didn't even have to lean in to get a good whiff of her, though of course he did lean in, taking in the scent of grass and dandelions, with a slightly sweet hint of happiness.
"I have to go or I'll be late for my Homework class."
He blinked in surprise and pulled away.
"You're going?"
"Sure." She nodded. "I know it's mostly for Omegas, but my mom had to go to the hospital with my newborn brother for three weeks, and suddenly I couldn't even do a decent load of laundry. She's always been the only one to do it, and I never realized how much work there was to do around the house. Now that she's back, I'm trying to help her more, but she doesn't have time to explain everything to me. I'll learn what I need to in class, and then my mom won't have to watch me at home.
"Wow. I can't believe someone would volunteer for this crap," he remarked incredulously.
"It's an optional class. Everyone goes voluntarily."
"I don't know. Mr. Dalton highly recommended it. He said it would help me become a better Omega." Kysele grinned. "He probably has something against the way I look or something."
"If he said something like that to you, it wasn't very appropriate of him," Lisa decided in a serious tone. "But the lesson isn't that bad. We have a lot of fun there, too, and I like going. If you'd come, we could have worked together. What do you think?"
He unconsciously glanced down her body. She wore a short skirt today because it was warm outside, and instead of a t-shirt, she wore a tank top that showed a little more than the cleavage she usually wore. Her bare shoulders were covered by a loose sweater, but you could still see a lot of her neck, and even that at Beta's most fragrant spot, where her neck met her shoulder. The skin there was beautifully soft, olive, and she had a small birthmark on her right tranny.
Yes, he could endure a few hours of boredom for that.
"You know what? When you put it like that, it doesn't sound so bad. I think I'll sign up," he decided, definitely enjoying the wide smile the Beta girl gave him.
°°0°°
The door closed softly behind him, separating him from the raw air of the hallway.
Castiel took in the smell of cleaning supplies and ozone from the air conditioner, equipped with the latest air purifier he'd had installed in the club two weeks ago at Balthazar's insistence.
And it had been a good investment.
Even after last night's busy night, the air in Blue Skye was practically odorless. In fact, it was clean enough to pick up not only Balthazar's stinging nettle scent, accentuated as always by the odor enhancers, but also Oleg's cinnamon-iron scent, as well as the subtle sweetness wafting from the waitresses.
Balthazar stood behind the bar, leaning against it with one hand, the other fiddling with the corner of his high collar, picking his way through the stacked bottles. As soon as he spotted Castiel, he lost interest in the booze and turned to him; a provocative smile lifted the corners of his mouth. The same one that had made Castiel sit up all those years ago.
He followed him to the bar, only half-noticing Oleg, who had just noticed him and nodded briefly in greeting.
"The big bad wolf has finally risen," Balthazar greeted him, leaning his arm against the bar and bowing his head in a graceful, submissive gesture, honed to near perfection by years of practice, revealing his neck still marked with dark green and yellow hickeys. Castiel's own brand. Proof that Balthazar wore proudly, and that was... strangely unsatisfying. Maybe it was because they were already faded, or maybe it was because they were on the wrong neck.
Balthazar was undeniably handsome. Slender and lithe, with curly hair the color of sand, bright blue eyes, and the pungent smell of nettles that so perfectly matched his sharp, caustic tongue, not even dulled by a soft French accent. But he wasn't an Omega, and more importantly, he wasn't Castiel's Omega, and while he couldn't deny that he wasn't entirely indifferent to the claim he had on Balthazar, his Alpha wasn't as interested as ever.
"A drink?" Beta offered, tilting his head to the other side, exposing the untouched side of his throat in challenge.
"Yes," he agreed, his own voice sounding a little flat even to him.
Balthazar rested his eyes briefly on the brown plates. Then he turned away and began preparing the ingredients for his favorite apple martini.
"We couldn't help but notice that we were short a waitress yesterday. George was bitching about it all night," Balthazar said as he tipped the first shot of vodka into the shaker. He shot Castiel a quick glance before tossing in a second and then pouring a third, shoving him across the bar. "I told him Crystal decided to quit. He believed me. But there's a rumor among the girls that you sent her to talk to the fish for their greedy little fingers."
"Why would I do that?" He frowned in confusion and raised his glass. "She owes me, and the dead don't pay their debts. Vladko has her," he added before turning the contents of his glass in his hands.
Balthazar raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You were furious when you found out she had emptied your vault. You let her get away so easily?"
Oksana's betrayal still irritated him, but he didn't want to dwell on it. Especially not now, when his thoughts were still filled with memories of the smell of pine and apple blossom and bright green eyes. Oksana's lack of gratitude for being able to live the comfortable life she dreamed of back in Ukraine here in America paled in comparison.
"Even with nineteen fingers, I make at least a hundred thousand a year on the street. She's worth more alive," he pointed out, setting his glass back on the bar and sliding it over to Beta to indicate he should pour another. "But I'm down one waitress. You'll have to cover for Oksana until I get a replacement."
"Me?" Balthazar put a hand to his chest and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "I'm too pretty to be a waitress."
"Then help me choose." He picked up the folder at the same time he picked up his drink and walked over to the couches.
His eyes wandered briefly to the waitresses sitting on the next sofa, metal trays on their laps with large bags of ecstasy and a stack of smaller ones into which they were dividing the goods, two pills at a time. Their small, slender fingers were much better at distributing the pills than the clumsy fingers of Oleg, who sat across from Castiel, cell phone in hand, pretending to watch the two Beta women. He could afford to be less vigilant after Oksana hadn't shown up for her shift last night.
Especially with Castiel around.
The subtle scent of fear that hovered around Marishka and Nina and intensified when he sat down next to them was the best assurance his Alpha had that neither of them would try to take anything that belonged to him anytime soon.
Balthazar sat down next to him, close enough as always that their thighs brushed against each other, and Beta's nettle scent flooded Castiel's nose. Normally, it filled his mouth with saliva and he would have felt that telltale clenching sensation in his gums, but not this time. His scent was still pleasant and inviting, but something was missing.
He wrinkled his nose and turned his head slightly towards the slender Beta who had settled comfortably at his side. He sucked in the air and almost immediately realized what was missing from his scent. There was no hint of Omega sweets. It lacked apple blossom and pine wood.
"Let's see what's on the menu," Balthazar interrupted his thoughts. Then he sipped from his glass and leaned over to pick up the ingredients lying on the low table. His palm rested on Castiel's knee, along with another whiff of peppery scent.
Any other time, he would have leaned closer and inhaled the pungent, nettle-like scent, but this time, he found himself stiffening and even pulling back a bit. His inner Alpha was strangely tense, almost suspicious, and that hadn't happened around Balthazar in years.
The slender Beta returned to his seat, allowing Castiel to finally relax a little and lean back into the couch.
He stretched his legs and pulled out his cigarettes to light up and ease the strange inner tension as he watched Balthazar flip through one photograph after another. There were two Betas from the last delivery. And three who had been working for some time. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having used goods in Blue Skye, because it meant drug and alcohol addiction, but Vladko assured him that all three came from their better businesses and were clean.
"Next time, tell your men to at least wash their faces before a photo shoot," Balthazar remarked dispassionately, taking another drink.
He looked over his hand at the photo he was commenting on. It was of a brunette of about eighteen with heavy makeup, tears and dried blood smeared across her upper lip. Whichever of Vladek's men had taken the picture had slapped her so hard that blood ran down her nose. Probably to make her stop crying, at least for the duration of the photo.
A buzzer sounded at the door.
"Are we expecting a visitor, mon amour?" asked Balthazar.
"That would be Shurley. I called him."
"Ah... in that case, I'll open the door for him," Balthazar sighed, tossing the folder on the table and getting up, drink in hand.
He disappeared behind a post at the corner of the bar for a moment before reappearing with Shurley trailing behind him.
The lawyer was dressed in a light jacket, clutching a black leather briefcase, the artificial smell of mango and citrus trailing behind him.
Castiel sucked in air.
He'd never been sure if it was Shurley's own scent, amplified by the odor enhancers Balthazar used, or a cologne so strong it was meant to cover his natural scent entirely. He was inclined to believe the latter. It was as if Shurley didn't want others to know what he really smelled like. So it occurred to him, not for the first time, that the lawyer wasn't really a Beta as he claimed, but rather an Omega. He was petite, soft, and even a thick beard couldn't hide his round face. And his teeth, especially his fangs, were too regular and unnaturally aligned. If it weren't for the artificial scent and the fact that he could stand up to anyone in a courtroom, Beto or Alpha, he would definitely be an Omega at first glance.
Not that Castiel really cared about his other gender, as long as he did his job, and especially as long as he did it well. And he also liked the fact that literally nothing could bother Shurley. He didn't disappoint this time, either, as his eyes swept over the several stacks of takeout bags on the table and over Marishka and Nina, who continued to serve because no one had told them to stop.
It was exactly this kind of behavior that had earned him a certain amount of trust from Castiel, who had invited him here today to clear up a few things regarding Dean.
"Alpha Novak," the lawyer greeted him first, shaking his hand.
Castiel put his cigarette between his lips and returned the greeting with only a quick puff.
"And Mr. Morozov," he turned to Oleg, but did not offer his hand. "I didn't know you'd be here, but it's convenient. There has been great progress in your case. As for the possession with intent to sell..." he shook his head. "It turns out that the police made some procedural errors, and the drugs seized from your car were excluded from evidence at my request. Since they had nothing else against you, the prosecutor had no choice but to drop the charges. You can pick up your bail in person, or I'll have it mailed to you. That was the good news, now the bad news..." he let the briefcase swing to his right leg. "I'm afraid I can't get you out of those tickets. The car is registered in your name, and you haven't paid thirty-three of them. That's a serious offense that could get you up to three months in Rikers."
"And that's why I wanted to retire to America," Balthazar interrupted amusedly, gracefully swinging his leg over so that he leaned a little more against Castiel. "You can drive around with some cursed heroin in your glove compartment, but woe betide you if you don't pay your parking tickets. Beautiful country," he added, raising his glass in a toast.
"Will I be there over Christmas?" Oleg asked.
"You're on trial in three weeks. If you get an exemplary sentence, which we can assume given your criminal record and recent charges, and given the overcrowding in minimum security, which includes convictions for minor offenses... then I'm afraid you won't start your sentence until mid-November at the earliest, maybe early December."
"That sucks," Oleg sighed in Russian before addressing Shurley in English. "Can't you get me out of this somehow, Curly?"
Shurley frowned, probably because of the nickname, but kept his professional composure as he replied:
"I'll do my best to make it a suspended sentence, but in your case it's hard to argue that you're an understatement. Expect to spend the holidays at Rikers."
"I hate American Christmas food. Dry bird and mashed sweet potatoes."
"I hear they have decent jelly," Balthazar pointed out.
"Like I said, I'll do my best," Shurley repeated, clutching the case with both hands again before looking at Castiel. "Payment at the usual place?"
"No, I have it right here," he replied, rising to his feet and grabbing his glass, emptying it in one gulp.
He rolled the sip over his tongue, savoring the pleasantly searing taste, and left the glass on the bar on his way to get Shurley's money. He tucked the cigarette in the corner and bent down to retrieve the leather bag he'd placed in front of the waiting lawyer. The lawyer immediately pulled it over to him and opened it to inspect the contents.
Castiel watched out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed another glass and a bottle of vodka and poured a generous helping not only for himself, but for Shurley as well. Then he set one of the shots down in front of him.
"God bless." He raised his glass.
"To good business," the lawyer mimicked his toast.
He turned his shot glass in his hand and watched as Shurley hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and then did the same. The look on his face as he swallowed the alcohol was priceless, and it wasn't even real vodka from home.
Castiel smiled in amusement.
That little Jewish lawyer could be funny. But most of all, he was as trustworthy as someone who was willing to defend criminals and was also really good at what he did. He was a decent guarantee that Castiel's lieutenants wouldn't go to jail for nothing. Granted, the cell was a home away from home for most of his men, but they were still less useful behind bars than they were free. And since the prison business was not one of their interests, he needed Shurley to keep his men out.
"Jesus... I swear this is going to kill me someday," Shurley stammered as he put down his empty glass and took a deep breath before speaking again, his voice raspy as if he was swallowing gravel, "You said on the phone you needed to talk to me about something. What is it, Alpha?"
He stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray hidden under the bar before reaching for his cell phone, both hands free as he opened the folder of photos Pyotr had sent him during the day.
All of them showed Dean.
The oldest one was from this morning. Omega looked out the small window of the dingy motel he'd been forced to stay in for the time being. The once orange plaster was gray with smog and cracked with age, and the hideous flowered rags that were supposed to replace the curtains were faded by the sun. The sight of the parade of filth and squalor made his Alpha growl in anger. This was no home for an Omega, especially not his. Everything in him screamed that Dean belonged in his lair. Between the books, the wooden furniture, and the big bed with the cashmere sheets, where he could build his nest and live in the comfort and luxury he deserved. Luxury that Castiel had, and as an Alpha he was more than willing to lay it at Dean's feet, only he knew he couldn't for many reasons. Not yet.
The main one was his firm determination that his Omega would be with him by choice. He'd called Shurley here today for the others.
Pushing his justified anger about Dean's accommodations out of his mind, he quickly scrolled to the photo of Dean coming out of the school gates.
Placing his cell phone in front of the lawyer who leaned over him curiously, he looked at the photo and then looked at Castiel questioningly.
"That's my Omega," he said with pride and a hint of possessiveness that started with his inner Alpha and slipped into his voice like a slight growl, making the lawyer hunch his shoulders a little.
"I see," Shurley replied politely, his tone and the way he turned away from the photograph saying very loudly that he had no intention of coming between Castiel and his Omega. "I suppose congratulations are in order."
He measured him with his gaze. No, of course Shurley posed no threat, and it was... strange how easily the thought had come to him that he did. He wasn't used to losing control of his Alpha so quickly, even when someone dared to touch someone who belonged to him. Balthazar was a prime example. He knew that Beta would always find company for the night, if only to have a place to sleep, and he tolerated it because he was sure that Balthazar would always come back to him.
In Dean's case, the thought of all the Alphas, or even just the Betas, being around his Omega right now was like the proverbial stick poking a sleeping bear.
"He's sixteen," he said after a short pause during which he watched Shurley warily, finally rationalizing that the lawyer wasn't a problem. He was here to advise, not to take away his Omega.
"Ah..." Shurley cleared his throat and put on a professional lawyer's expression. "As your lawyer, I must inform you that in the state of New York, the age of consent is seventeen. Any sexual activity with a person under the age of seventeen is treated by law as rape and molestation of a minor. For both offenses, the penalty is four years for each separate proven act, with the sentences, of course, being cumulative. Also part of the sentence is registration on the sex offender registry and, in your case, deportation immediately upon completion of your sentence."
He knew most of what the lawyer said very well. Thanks to the young Katushkas, they had some initially arrogant fools in their clutches who were not afraid that it would come out that they were paying hookers. But it definitely scared them when they found out that they were in photos and videos with girls or young men under sixteen. He also knew that prosecutors liked to emphasize the young age of prostitutes in court. At the same time, they were not shy about threatening fifteen-year-olds and younger with arrest for prostitution or production and distribution of child pornography, just to get them to talk.
But none of this directly affected Castiel until he met Dean, and the problem of his True Mate being so young arose for him alone.
It would be a shame to have a career as a hit man for the Bratva, evade Interpol, Europol, and Russian investigators and never go to jail, and be content to run a business here in America for two years without anyone having any idea who he really was, and then end up in jail because Americans were puritans. Back home, Dean's age would not have been a problem because he would no longer be under the law.
Unfortunately, it's the seemingly stupid crimes that are fatal to people like Castiel.
"I know all this. I want your advice on how best to avoid trouble."
"Aside from the obvious, which is not to see him until he's seventeen?" Shurley asked; Castiel just cocked his head to the side and blinked a little, because not seeing his Omega wasn't an option.
"I see," the lawyer shook his head knowingly and straightened his tie. "Technically... there is no law against a minor and an adult having a purely platonic relationship. That is, in the eyes of the law, it is perfectly legal for you to... let's say, go for a walk, or to a movie, or to a restaurant. There's also no law against scent marking, hugging, or even kissing. But the definition of what constitutes sexual touching or non-consensual touching, for example, is so broad that if you want to avoid even hypothetical problems completely, it would be best to legalize your relationship. The easiest thing to do is to bite him. Although his legal guardians can challenge the mating in court, since he's already sixteen, the court will take his opinion into account. So the mating must be voluntary on his part, or at least he must confirm the voluntariness in court... "
"No," he interrupted. "We'll mate when he asks for it. What are the other options?"
Shurley frowned a little, as if to say more, but finally bowed his head slightly, both in agreement and submission.
"All right, Alpha. Your decision." He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "The other options are marriage or a contract for future mating. Both can be arranged at the age of fourteen with the consent of a legal guardian.The older of the couple is then automatically convicted of statutory rape. If you can convince his parents to agree to one of these, I'll be happy to make the necessary arrangements with immigration and draw up a prenuptial or mating agreement for you."
Castiel frowned.
It wasn't hard to convince someone to cooperate. Most people had their price, and the few stupidly honest exceptions could be persuaded by means other than dollars. Like blackmail or terror. Dean's Alpha father - if anyone like him could be called a father and an Alpha - was in the former category of people and could certainly put a price on the most expensive thing he owned: an Omega son. And Castiel would have had no problem paying any amount of money to have Dean as his own and, more importantly, free of the mere imitation Alpha that John Winchester was.
The only problem was that while his people had been trying to find Dean's father, they had been unsuccessful.
"He has no one to consent to a mating or marriage contract. Can we do it without that?"
"At sixteen, he must have someone. If not parents or grandparents, then a court-appointed guardian or foster family," Shurley argued.
"He has an Alpha father, but he left him and his brother in a motel and left town."
"That's good news," Shurley said in a genuinely pleased tone, but quickly turned serious when Castiel rolled his eyes in disapproval. "I didn't...uh...mean it's good that he has no one. I mean, no one but you, Alpha," he added quickly as Castiel tilted his head to the side this time, frowning. "But if the father is really gone, it's neglect and abandonment of a child. If Child Protective Services finds out, they'll put them in the system, and then you can use the Omega in Distress Act."
"What's that?"
"In a nutshell... it's a law that allows any Alpha over the age of twenty-one to claim custody of an orphaned or otherwise neglected Omega. Most often it applies to minors, but under certain circumstances it can also apply to an adult Omega. For minors, Alpha custody lasts until the Omega reaches the age of twenty-one. For adult Omegas, it's a minimum of two years, after which the court decides if the Omega is fit to begin caring for herself."
"That almost sounds like foster care..." he remarked unhappily. He didn't particularly like the idea, as it had the aftertaste of parenthood. The last thing he felt for Dean was anything paternal.
"It's not the same thing," the lawyer replied, much to his relief. "To qualify as a foster parent, a person must prove that they are mentally and physically capable of caring for a child. They must also have sufficient financial resources, steady employment, a suitable home, and not be a drug addict or alcoholic. In the case of the Omega in Distress Act, the only and sufficient criterion is that he is an Alpha. Also, the rights of an Omega in such a case are very different. Specifically with your Omega..." he gestured to the cell phone still on the table. "As a sixteen year old, albeit in foster care, he has the right to get a driver's license, sign certain types of contracts, work part-time, or qualify for medical confidentiality, for example. If he were in your custody, he would lose these rights, as well as all others. He would not be able to own personal property, handle money, leave the state without your permission...in fact, he could not do anything at all without your permission."
"How would something like that legitimize our relationship?"
"Not in any way," Shurley admitted. "But unlike foster care, there are no social service checks or other government oversight. Your Omega would even be legally yours, and you could do practically... anything with it with impunity. Not because it's actually allowed, because it's not. The most basic rights and freedoms remain even with an Omega placed in the care of an Alpha. This means that it would still be a crime to kill him, hurt him, or have sex with him, but who's going to find out if you don't let him leave the apartment? And the Omeze in Distress Act gives you every right to do that."
On the deepest level, perhaps even deeper than his Alpha's own instincts, the idea of owning Dean absolutely was immensely satisfying. It was a chance to protect and care for him unconditionally, except that it was the worst of all possible ways to give the Omega everything he needed. It would put him in a situation where the entire group would see him more as a possession than a human being, and so he would be forced to submit, not out of his own will and desire for his Alpha, but because he would have no choice.
He had no intention of doing that unless it was necessary. Not to Dean. But in other cases it opened up surprising business opportunities he hadn't known about until this moment.
"Okay. I want this as a last resort for my Omega. But," he cocked his head a little to one side, looking at the lawyer curiously, "it sounds like an opportunity to expand the business. Why don't I know about it?"
"Because you need a clean record to accept Omega, and you're on the Alpha Caregiver list."
Yes, now it made sense why he hadn't heard of anyone taking advantage of the Omega in Distress Act. The less of a paper trail the better, especially for those who couldn't keep a clean slate. It was simply easier to approach a neglected Omega on the street and promise her comfort and money, or buy her from her parents or a shelter, than it was to register her somewhere the government bitches had access to. After all, the authorities might not notice an Alpha taking custody of an Omega, but an Alpha with more than one would surely catch their attention sooner or later.
And while there was a generous profit to be made from an omega, especially if it was a male omega, it wouldn't be enough money to bring the owner of such an omega into Castiel's circle. Maybe less than what the average small pimp with three or four girls or a slightly more ambitious type with a small escort agency would make.
"But that's no problem for you. You've got a Green Card, a clean record, a great social profile... I'm sure you could easily get citizenship if you wanted to," Shurley assured him, as if that was something he was striving for. That was one of the many vices of Americans; they thought everyone was worth living in their country. But Castiel hadn't come here to settle down, he'd come to make money, and finding Dean was just a happy accident.
"That's an opportunity I'm going to pass up," he replied, reaching into his pocket for a package to light. "You've outlined several possibilities, but none of them suit me." He flicked his lighter and lit it, taking a deep breath of the pleasantly warm smoke. "What are we going to do?" He asked, letting the smoke pass between his words and looking pointedly at the lawyer with raised eyebrows.
Shurley cleared his throat a little, then pulled away discreetly to avoid the thin line of smoke rising toward the air conditioner.
"If you don't like any of my suggestions, Alpha, I have no choice but to make a few minor recommendations. First and foremost, utmost discretion is essential. Your Omega will have to keep quiet about what's going on between you, not only now, but for at least five years after you reach the age of majority, because that's how long the statute of limitations lasts. Can you count on him to keep his mouth shut?" He asked, "Kids... young people are always on social media, chatting, sharing photos, even making videos... He might want to brag to his friends that he slapped an older, rich Alpha and that would be bad for you. One word from him and you'll end up behind bars."
He flicked the ash from his cigarette.
He didn't believe that Dean would betray him. He didn't know him, he realized rationally, but his instincts urged him to trust his Omega in an almost disturbing way, and yet he wasn't even willing to fight the feeling. He couldn't remember when, if ever, he had felt something like that. Trust was expensive. He didn't give it away easily, and he knew that it took effort and a lot of money to earn it. Trust without conditions was so... especially refreshing, like riding a roller coaster. Dangerous, but great.
Besides, Omega had only been in town for two weeks, and his life revolved around his younger brother, whom he was willing to do anything to protect. It was a loyalty Castiel could only admire, and wished that one day, when they got to know each other better, Dean would be just as loyal to him.
"I'm not worried about that. He won't talk. What else?" He asked before pulling away.
"You must avoid any messages, notes, emails, anything written that could be construed as... inappropriate. No intimate or even erotic photos, virtual or real. Videos of similar content are also taboo. Of course, there must be no physical evidence of intercourse, such as semen or saliva. I would also recommend that you never bring him to your home. Find an apartment away from the city center, or maybe a small cottage completely outside the city, or take him somewhere out of the country... For example, in Mexico the age of consent for omegas is fourteen, in Thailand it's twelve. Whatever you do together in these countries will be perfectly legal."
"Anything else?"
"Be careful if you want to give him anything," the lawyer said, surprising him rather unpleasantly.
"I don't know anything about it being illegal to give someone a gift in this country," he countered sharply.
"It's not, but-" Shurley paused hesitantly, his eyes sliding quickly to his cell phone. "With all due respect, Alpha, he doesn't seem to come from our financial circles, if you understand..." he let his voice trail off, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I'm sure someone at the school would notice if he suddenly had new expensive clothes or electronics. Teachers are supposed to report anything suspicious, and this certainly looks suspicious. Besides, if the whole thing ever came out, it would look like you were paying him for sex, and that certainly wouldn't do you any good."
Castiel blew out a puff of smoke and frowned.
As much as he didn't like it, and it went against all his Alpha instincts that told him to take good care of his Omega, he was willing to trust Shurley. So when he said it wouldn't attract much attention if he put Dean up in his apartment and gave him enough resources, it was true. When it came to legal advice, he had never failed. And he was helpful even when Castiel got lost in the cultural differences, because Shurly's mother was a native Pole, and so he understood the Eastern way of life, which was different from the Western one.
In fact, this would not have been a problem at home in Russia. There, no one cared about such things, and as long as Dean had a family, they would be happy to find an Alpha who would provide their Omega with a comfortable place to live, prosperity, education... just everything he needed. They would probably use such an opportunity to get something for themselves as well - a nicer apartment, a few expensive things, dinners at fancy restaurants... It was customary for a man, especially an Alpha, to take care of not only his wife or his Omega, but also her or his family.
But the whole thing was an inconvenience. The apartment he had chosen for Dean and his brother was deep in the heart of their territory, in a neighborhood that was generally much safer and more comfortable than the one where the motel stood. He would also be much closer to his Omega, and just the thought of that satisfied his Alpha and made him feel like he was protecting his Omega.
The silence stretched on, and Castiel managed two thoughtful swipes before the lawyer cleared his throat and caught his attention.
"As far as I'm concerned, that's all the advice I can give you, Alpha. Is there anything else you need, or are we done?"
"That'll be all." He flicked the ash from his cigarette.
"Okay... okay... um..." Shurley hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the waitresses, before leaning over the bar and continuing half-loud, "I assumed our meeting would run longer, so I'm free for the rest of the afternoon, so I was wondering... if the girls were free...?"
He glanced over the lawyer's shoulder. He had one waitress less, but the club didn't open until ten, and now, he glanced quickly at his watch, it was only six. Things never took long at Shurley's.
"Yeah, but only one of them. Which one do you want?"
Shurley looked over his shoulder again, a small smile on his face, and his eyes went to Marishka.
"The beautiful long-haired one."
He'd expected that.
"Marishka! You got the job!" He called across the room.
Beta looked up quickly from her work. He only glanced into Castiel's eyes for a moment before she quickly lowered her gaze and stood up. As she straightened her short blue dress, she already had a big smile on her face, which she beamed at Shurley as she walked towards the bar as fast as her high heels would allow, sinking into the thick carpet.
"Hello, Curly," Marishka said, her voice with a slight but still noticeable enough Ukrainian accent, and she placed a hand with long, dark blue nails on Shurley's shoulder. "Will you take me to your place?"
"Absolutely," the lawyer replied, his eyes fixed on her cleavage, partly because the heels made her a head taller than he was. Not that Shurley minded, nor did he hesitate as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. It wasn't until he was holding her that he stopped, as if something had dawned on him, and cast a quick glance at Castiel.
"Take her back to the opener. And don't forget your paycheck," he said instead of the direct permission to leave that the lawyer was probably expecting.
Without further ado, he grabbed his cell phone from the table and made his way back to the waiting Balthazar, who watched him curiously from the sofa, only inadvertently catching Shurley leading Mariska to the exit.
Chapter Text
For the umpteenth time that day, he glanced at the strange conversation from this morning.
Castiel: Dinner tonight at 6:30.
Dean: 'kay alpha.
Castiel: I'll pick you up.
The message from Alpha was as ordinary as the others he'd received from him so far, and the only odd thing about it was that it came at 4:20 in the morning. Who the hell was awake at that hour? Right, hookers and drug dealers, just Alpha's kind of people. Probably his best friends among them.
It took him all the way through breakfast and the drive to school before he got around to answering. Not because he didn't know how to answer - what could he do but agree? Alpha wasn't one to take 'no' for an answer - but more because he was confused that Alpha had reached out to him again.
Alf's Castiel hadn't been heard from all weekend. No texts, no calls, complete radio silence. Even the car in the motel parking lot had disappeared, and he hadn't seen any outside the school. Sometimes it seemed like Alpha had forgotten all about him, and that was... confusing. He felt partially relieved because it meant they could leave New York and put this crazy shit behind him. But at the same time, his Omega was restless and moody, and stupid thoughts crept into his mind, like why Alpha had lost interest so suddenly. Like maybe, damn it, it mattered if the Knothead wanted him or not.
And then there were those moments when he felt someone's eyes on his neck, but when he turned around, there was no one there. Or when he was working at the diner on a Sunday night - yes, strangely enough, he kept his job even though he disappeared in the middle of his shift. Being an Omega who could make top-notch puppy dog eyes had its advantages - and the waitress in the kitchen had casually mentioned a bunch of Russians in booth number two. He was pretty sure Alpha's men were still watching him.
He closed the conversation window and glanced at his watch before putting the phone back in his pocket. Then he looked around the half-empty parking lot.
It was almost six, he was standing on the corner of the motel like a complete idiot and... what exactly? Was he expecting a car with a bunch of tattooed guys with guns to come out of somewhere and pick him up? Yeah, probably something like that. Strangely enough, it didn't happen, so he had no idea how the Alpha was going to pick him up in time.
And he didn't care. He wasn't interested in waiting anymore. The evening chill was starting to bite through his jacket, his best clothes, the ones he didn't wear much, were terribly uncomfortable because they smelled of nothing but laundry detergent, and he wasn't really interested in seeing Alpha.
If Alpha had forgotten him, what was he really complaining about? At least he wouldn't have to bend over for a knot tonight, and that was good, so why did he feel... left out? Why was his stupid, whiny inner Omega whining like it was the end of the world?
"Fuck it..." he growled, disgusted with himself, and was about to return to his room, where Sammy's pleasant homely smell and the fifth series of the new Doctor Who awaited him, when a dark blue car pulled into the parking lot. An old Toyota that looked like it had been through something, and two male silhouettes could be seen behind its front window.
The car had pulled into two parking spaces, a little to the side so it couldn't be seen from the reception or their room.
He slowly made his way towards it, but stopped when the door opened and a couple he knew only too well got out. It was Skinny and the other one, the one who had left him with some nice bruises as a reminder of their last encounter.
He tensed instinctively and bared his teeth slightly.
"Relax, Omega," the thin man said, "we don't want to hurt you. I'm Vadim. This is Jacob." He nodded to his buddy, "We're here to take you to the boss."
"Right. Just like last time; tied up and in the trunk of a car?" He remarked with a grin, but despite his words he walked calmly towards them.
He was quite sure that none of Alpha's men would dare touch him. Not without Alpha's permission or order. So if they ever did something to him, it would only be because he pissed Alpha off, and he wasn't planning on doing that anytime soon. He knew the best thing he could do for now was to be a small, obedient Omega and try to please Alpha Castiel, at least until they figured out how to get out of this shit, or until... until their Alpha at least spoke up.
As for Alpha Castiel himself and what awaited him today, that was something else entirely. He was well aware that the Alpha could do as he pleased. But still; something told him that he didn't have to worry about actually hurting him. Yeah, there was a good chance that he'd limp home today with his ass stretched out by the Alpha's knot, but his bones would definitely stay intact. And that counted as a win, didn't it?
"Hey, kid, just don't make any trouble, okay?" Jacob grumbled, his voice hoarse and muffled by his swollen nose, which was a lovely shade of blue-violet. "Look at this." He held up his left hand, showing the brace that tightly encircled three of his fingers; pinky, ring, and middle. "This is what I got the last time I hit you. A broken finger for every blow. I'm sure you don't want anything to happen to me again."
"Ouch... that must have hurt," he assessed the beautifully broken fingers with mock regret, unable to resist a shudder of pleasure at the thought of the Alpha protecting him. "But you know... I don't really care what happens to you."
Jacob frowned.
"You're an Omega," Beta said, as if that explained everything.
He grinned.
Sure, because he was an Omega, he should be empathetic, caring and gentle, and have compassion for every loser he met. Not to mention that he was supposed to shit on puppies and consider them the center of his universe, whether they were his or not. Well, surprise, it didn't work out that way. At least not with Dean. He considered that shit just another stereotype that stuck to people like gum on a shoe.
"Really? You're playing the caring Omega card? Have you forgotten that I'm the same Omega who broke your nose? Nice eye shadow, by the way," he pointed at the purple bruise that stretched from Beto's nose to his eyelids.
Jacob turned sour, while Vadim was clearly amused, his gaunt face widening into a gleeful grin.
"You're driving," Jacob snarled at his buddy before glancing briefly at Dean and then nodding his head toward the car. "You get in," he urged, opening the back door.
The lanky Beta stepped out of the way without blinking, even seeming to take a little more of a step than necessary just to get the proper distance between himself and Dean. The other man, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to shove him into the car. And then he slammed the door shut behind him.
He sniffed.
The air was filled with a mixture of the two Betas' smells, cigarettes, marijuana, and the annoying scent of those air fresheners that only Betas put in their cars. Neither Alpha nor Omega could stand the chemical stench for long. That's what the scent absorbers were for. There were several of them in the Baby, because when two Alphas and an Omega were locked in a car for ten, twelve hours at a time, the air became so thick with pheromones that you could scoop it up with a spoon. And that was only when everyone was calm and cool. As soon as Sammy started to get mad about something or complain about something and their Alpha got mad... yeah, it was like swimming in vinegar all by itself. Then Dean's own sweet Omega smell added to it, because when there were angry Alphas around, he just couldn't stop his body from trying to calm them down, and eventually the car smelled so bad they all had to get out and air it out for an hour.
Jacob slid over to the other side of the back seat and frowned at Dean.
"Do we need to lock the doors, Omega?" He asked.
"Do you think I'm an idiot who jumps out while driving?" He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"No, but at traffic lights you could..."
He didn't even acknowledge that as a worthy response, just rolled his eyes and looked out the window.
There was a chuckle from the front seat, followed immediately by the sound of an engine starting, followed immediately by the roar of... shit, was that Russian rap or what the hell! A noise pretending to be music, definitely in Russian, coming from the cheap sound system of the family-type Toyota. Just great. If he has to listen to this all the way, he'll probably jump out of the car. Fortunately, he got a little reprieve when the Beta driver at least turned down the volume.
They entered the traffic, which had already thinned out, but Vadim still decided to turn into smaller streets, which he zigzagged through with the confidence of someone who knew them blindfolded. It occurred to Dean that he might have driven through them at some point while trying to lose the cops because he had drugs or a dead body in his trunk. The funny thing was that only two days ago he could have been the corpse.
Now he wasn't worried about ending up with a bullet in his head. Though that was probably stupid of him, considering the guys who'd picked him up had telltale bulges under their jackets and a walk that betrayed something weighing them down at the hip. Still, for some reason, what was going to happen tonight at... dinner was more pressing to him.
His stupid Omega instincts made him nervously excited, like the time he'd been sure he'd hit it off with a girl for the first time. And his Omega purred contentedly at the mere thought that in... just a few minutes, he'd see that damn sexy and strong Alpha again, with the perfect scent, perfect for making a few puppies. And it would actually be... nice to feel that, if the other side wasn't there. The cruel bitch called reality.
He wasn't a fool to think that he was going to grab a burger with Alpha and then kiss his face goodbye. No, Alpha would want to make the best impression, because in his twisted mind this was a serious romantic date. He guesses they'll go to an expensive hotel restaurant. The kind with white tablecloths, linen napkins on plates, and maybe they'll have a menu in a foreign language. I'm sure he'll order several courses for Dean and some expensive wine that tastes like vinegar and water. And then, at the end of the evening, he'll put his hand on Dean's thigh, like he did in the car, and squeal that he's rented a room upstairs where they can have another drink. And Dean will go because, damn it, he has no choice but to make a sound of protest when Alpha's strong hands grab his hips. He won't resist when Alpha bends him over the sofa - because all the expensive hotel suites have huge sofas - when he pulls down his pants and leans over him, enveloping him in the scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds. And as his big, tattooed hand wanders over to Dean's...
Suddenly he's aware not only of his hardening cock against the fabric of his briefs, thankfully hidden beneath his loose jeans, but also of the wetness between his buttocks.
Oh, shit! Get down! You hear me, lie down, you idiot!" he mentally addressed his cock, half angry and half horrified, clenching his cheeks, startled at the thought of moisture seeping through his pants. He wasn't worried about the Betas smelling him, they had a poor sense of smell and the car reeked of chemicals, but if he wet his pants... He'd meet an Alpha who smelled like a horny Omega and he could well imagine what Castiel Novak would do when he smelled him. They probably wouldn't even get through the appetizers before Alpha dragged him into the bathroom and fucked him bent over the toilet bowl. And Dean didn't want that. If he had to do it for the first time with this particular Alpha - not that his Omega was complaining about anything - then at least somewhere that didn't smell of disinfectant.
He quickly tugged at his jacket to hide the hint of an erection and tried to think of something nasty. Santa Claus in suspenders. Dead puppies. Beloved Impala smashed with a basketball bat... Yeah, that helped a little. His dick began to soften slowly, reluctantly.
Just in case they noticed something, he shot a nervous glance at Betas at his side, then another through the mirror to the driver. Jacob still looked a little annoyed, though maybe it was his swollen face. But Vadim smiled at him briefly before his smile, for who knew why, turned into a frown.
"Are you alright, little Omega?" He asked in a rough accent.
"Fine," he replied briefly, having to bite his tongue to keep from adding that he was definitely not little, especially not now. Damn. Don't think about his half-hard cock.
"Are you sure? You look... ispugannym."
"Scared," Jacob seemed to translate the last word, frowning even more as he said it. "Look, what happened last time won't happen again. I'm a little nervous, okay? Don't be surprised, you broke my nose. But nothing like that is going to happen now, is it? Then you don't have to worry. Neither of us is going to hurt you."
"There," the other Beta said in an agreeing tone. "We have guns, but you're safe."
He snorted.
"I'm not afraid. I've been beaten up more than once, and guns definitely don't scare me," he dismissed them sharply, and to keep himself from talking any more, he began to stare hard out of the window at the cars, pedestrians, and rapidly changing buildings.
"Are you scared of our boss?" Jacob asked.
He turned to him in surprise. He hadn't expected one of Alpha's men to ask him so openly about something that would be obvious to any normal person, because... yes, he was afraid. Hell, he was scared. The fear lay deep in his stomach, like a cold worm hiding beneath the strange thrill of meeting an Alpha he... wasn't really afraid of. It was strange, because he had literally seen him kill two people with his own eyes, and he was sure that he was a crazy psychopath, but he still wasn't afraid of him. No, him as such. He was afraid of everything that was going to happen today.
Not that he'd admit it to anyone. He barely wanted to admit it to himself.
"You don't have to be afraid of him. He looks a little scary, but he's generous and a good guy," Jacob assured him very seriously, even stopping to frown.
" Yeah... and the generous and good guy broke three of your fingers," he laughed mockingly.
"I disobeyed his orders and deserved the punishment. Listen to him and you won't get into trouble."
He grinned and turned his head away without answering. Yeah, it was easy to tell Beta to listen. His Alpha certainly wasn't going to have him delivered to order him to get on his knees and suck him off or stick his ass out and get fucked. He also didn't threaten to kill Jacob or take him away from his brother. In fact, Beta was definitely into this whole mafia thing on his own, for money or drugs or both, so he didn't have shit to say about Dean's proper treatment of Alpha.
For a moment, it looked like Jacob was going to say something else, leaning towards him so strangely, but then he leaned back in his seat and left Dean alone for the rest of the trip. A journey that took much less time than he'd expected. Soon, signs in strange script appeared on the shops and taverns he passed. Most of them also had normal, English signs, but some places didn't.
He had a vague awareness from old spy movies and those about the Russian Mafia that the writing was different in Russia, but he was still a little surprised and intrigued that it was actually true. Some of the letters were familiar, but others looked like squiggles. Dean tried to distract himself by trying to read them and compare them to the English writing to figure out which Russian letter meant what. Not that he was very successful. Sometimes he missed a few letters and sometimes he had a surplus.
The car slowed and pulled up to the curb in front of one of the shops where there was no English lettering.
Dean, like a well-bred and obedient Omega, waited for his armed escort to get out and for Jacob to open the car door for him. Only then did he step out onto the sidewalk and cast his eyes over the large storefront next to the entrance they had stopped at. He couldn't see inside very well, as there was a wooden construction behind the window that was supposed to give the impression of more small windows, as well as heavy dark curtains drawn almost halfway down.
The door itself was some sort of antique, and the shield above it was at least supposed to look like it was made of dark wood with... something written on it in ornate gold lettering.
"What does it say?"
"Moskovskaya kukla," Vadim replied, standing by his side. "It's a Moscow doll."
That sounded like...
"Are you taking me to a brothel?"
"Net!" Vadim exclaimed, truly horrified. "Net brothel! It's a restaurant. A family restaurant. Why a brothel?"
"That's what the name sounds like."
"The owner named it after his daughter. She was beautiful as a doll. She died when she was little. She had a disease that couldn't be cured in Russia or here," Beta explained, making Dean feel a little embarrassed that he thought of the place as a brothel. "You'll see her inside. Her picture hangs over the bar," he added, nodding towards the door at the same time, indicating that it was time to go.
Without protest, he followed Jacob, who opened the door and held it open until Dean and Vadim entered. Dean took a quick look around and continued his inspection, looking for possible escape routes while Vadim led him through the place.
The restaurant wasn't particularly large, but a good forty or fifty people could certainly fit inside. The walls, originally white, were a bit dingy and the wood paneling was also past its prime. To the left of the door was the wooden bar he'd seen in all the older pubs, and to the right was the place itself. Most of the tables were separated by wooden fences and posts, except for two that stood directly in front of the window facing the street.
The longest wall opposite the bar was covered with framed photographs of varying sizes and quality. Some were of houses, streets, and what looked like churches or castles. Dean was pretty sure they were from some Russian city. The rest of the photos were portraits of people. Some had to be very old, not only because the photos were faded, but also because of the strange and definitely decades-old clothing. Others were from today, nicely sharp and colorful, and a few were even from the place itself. The entire wall was dominated by a large television, hung high enough for anyone to see it, no matter where they sat or stood. And it somehow stood out from the rest of the interior.
Most of the tables were occupied, and aside from a Russian-sung pop rip-off circa 2000, at least three dozen voices carried through the room. They were all speaking exclusively Russian; guttural, raspy, and a little too rough for Dean's ears, so at first he thought the people around him were arguing. But it only took a good breath for him to realize that they were actually having a good time. The air was filled with a cheerfully sweet mixture of the scents of many Betas and a few Alphas and Omegas. And then there was the familiar smell of the bar, enriched with the strong aroma of cabbage, garlic, and - surprisingly - tea.
Everything here looked so... homey. No over-the-top, sterile luxury, no white tablecloths and bow-tied waiters. No, nothing like that. The bartender was a short, skinny Beta, and the waitress who stopped to let them pass - even though she literally had both hands full - was a plain, pretty Beta of about twenty, with a round face and nice big lips drawn into a stern expression. Even the guests weren't wearing expensive jackets like Alpha Castiel. And their eyes were not filled with contempt for the poor Omega in the oversized jeans and tattered leather jacket. They were wary, suspicious, maybe a little hostile, but also curious, and surprisingly, when he looked several of them in the eye, they immediately lowered their gaze and began to pretend not to notice him.
Dean frowned, because that was kind of weird. Most of the Betas didn't show any submission when Omega looked into their eyes.
They walked past the kitchen, the toilets, and down the narrow hallway to the half-open curtain that covered the closed door.
Vadim banged his fist on it three times.
It only took a moment for the door to partially open. Through the crack, Dean saw the now familiar face of Pyotr, which instantly broadened into a small smile, and then the burly Beta stepped back with him as it opened wide.
Dean took a long breath and braced himself. Head down, no challenging looks, no posturing. No rudeness or sarcasm. No talking back. On the contrary, be kind, obedient and submissive, as expected of a proper Omega, and tonight would go well for him.
Vadim entered first, followed by Dean, and Jacob completed the line.
He inhaled shallowly, but he could still smell the strong scent of baked cherries and bitter almonds, laced with an undercurrent of sour nervousness, while the almost honeyed sweetness of happiness quickly began to emerge. He felt the scent fill his lungs. As it seeped into his brain, leaving behind that strange, hazy haze he had felt on both occasions he had met Alpha Castiel. He wasn't going to give in to that feeling, and he certainly wasn't going to give in to the enthusiastic growl of his Omega, who was almost blissful, and yet he hadn't even seen Alpha yet, only smelled him.
He pushed his stupid Omega instincts to the back of his mind and looked around cautiously and, more importantly, carefully.
The room was large enough to fit three regular desks and another row of chairs along one wall, with another television hanging from it. It had no windows, but the two remaining walls were carpeted with that old pattern - Persian, they called it? I think so... - and one was on the floor. There was no other exit, no way out, except the door they'd come in through, and next to it was not only Dean's armed escort, but Pyotr as well. If he wanted to try to escape, he'd have to go through them, and that would be damn hard.
"Hello, Dean," came Alpha's deep, whiskey voice along with the creak of a chair.
He looked right up at Alpha, remembering from their last encounter that Alpha liked that, and even allowed himself a quick glance. He was still wearing an expensive-looking black jacket, shiny half-boots, and a white shirt, but this time he was wearing an extra tie. A blue one, with a wide diagonal stripe that matched his beautiful blue eyes, which he fixed on Dean with the same burning intensity as last time.
He licked his suddenly dry lips.
"Hi, Alpha,' he said curtly, but as if it was some kind of signal for Alpha to suddenly move forward.
For who knew why he half expected Alpha to grab the back of his head and kiss him predatorily, or at least to bury his nose in a scent gland and suck in the scent roughly. So he was surprised at how soft the touch of the big hand on his shoulder was, and that the Alpha leaned against his neck, but not so close that he could feel his breath on his skin. And he didn't even hear him sniff inappropriately. He could smell his scent, though, and it was absolutely impossible for him to resist the urge to tilt his head toward the Alpha's throat and inhale that sweet, tart aroma.
"I'm glad you accepted my invitation," Alpha said, pulling away all too soon, but leaving his warm hand on Dean's shoulder.
"Like I had a choice," he slipped out.
Alpha tilted his head to the side and blinked at Castiel.
Damn it! He hadn't been here literally a minute and he'd already opened his foul mouth and spat out something rude. He had to think of a way out of this quickly, unless... Aha! Oh, yeah. I mean, they'd already agreed to this date in the car, so if he mentioned it...
"I mean, it's been arranged since last time, right?" he blurted out quickly.
He wasn't sure if the Alpha had swallowed it, because his expression hadn't changed much, but neither had his scent. It remained cheerfully sweet and his hand moved from Dean's shoulder to the collar of his jacket.
"Take it off," Alpha demanded, pulling on the jacket at the same time.
Dean's stomach did a little cold turn.
That was quick. Not even five minutes. Damn, despite the silence, he must have picked up the lingering scent of the car accident and... He wanted to growl and shake off the hands that were pulling at his jacket, but he couldn't, so he just bit his own cheek and let the Alpha strip him. But damn it, he'd rather go to hell than undress any more willingly. If she wanted him naked, he'd have to take care of that himself.
The Alpha made no sign of wanting to take off his shirt as well, but handed the jacket to Pyotr, who hung it on the rack. And Dean immediately felt like a complete fool. Of course he didn't want him to undress here, he just wanted him to take off his jacket because the room was pleasantly warm and if they were going to have dinner together in his jacket he was sure to work up a good sweat.
If the Alpha noticed his embarrassment, which must have been reflected in his scent or his earlier stiffness and fear, he didn't show it, just took two steps to the only set table and then pushed out one of the chairs.
"Please. Have a seat."
He stared at the offered chair for a moment, because what the hell...? He was an Omega, but this had never happened to him before. It happened that an Alpha invited him by tapping the barstool next to him and calling 'Sit, Omega' as if he was some kind of dog that would come on command. Or, if it was a more respectable establishment, some horny Knot would try to summon him by waving his hand or giving up one of the chairs at his table. But he'd never been offered a chair like that... archly polite and even though it was ridiculous - like, really? It was the twenty-first century. Who followed those stupid customs anymore - so it was both cute and Alpha's focused expression as he held the chair out in a bid was actually quite endearing.
He pursed his lips tightly to keep from smiling, because the last thing you wanted was for a dangerous Alpha like Castiel to think you were mocking him.
And he took the chair.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the Alpha walk around the table and take a seat on the other side, but for the most part, he kept his gaze seemingly shy and submissive on the table in front of him. On a white place setting with embroidery around the entire edge, laid on a white tablecloth decorated with birds and some ornaments. And, of course, there was an embroidered cloth napkin on which the cutlery, including a spoon, was laid out. It all looked like something out of a century-old movie, except maybe for a plain glass and a dewy pitcher of water with lemon slices floating in it.
"I didn't know what you liked to drink," the Alpha said, probably noticing what he was looking at.
He'd rather have a beer. A nice cold Bud, or at least a Coke. He'd even settle for orange juice, but since the Alpha thought water was best, it was a waste of time to argue with him.
"Water's fine. Thank you, Alpha," he replied politely, reaching over to pour.
But Alpha beat him to it, leaning over the table and pouring him a full glass.
"Thanks" he said and took a sip immediately. He was quite thirsty.
"You look beautiful."
He nearly choked on the water.
What the hell...?! Yeah, he knew he wasn't bad looking, even if he was too tall for Omega, too narrow in the hips and too muscular in the shoulders. But was he beautiful? No one had ever told him that, and he certainly wouldn't expect it from an Alpha. They were more likely to praise his sinful lips, made for sucking cock and swallowing knots or some shit like that. Beauty was never mentioned and Dean had no idea what to say in response. He felt uncomfortable and even felt his ears getting a little hot.
"Um... yeah, thanks Alpha," he replied awkwardly, allowing himself a quick glance up at Alpha who was watching him intently from the other side. "You look good too," he added, intending to stroke his ego, but not really saying anything he didn't mean. The Alpha did look good. Oh God... hell... not just good, he looked great. There was just something about his hair, disheveled as if he'd just gotten out of a bed he definitely hadn't slept in. And the stubble that curled around his chin, and, of course, the eyes, whose gaze was electrically intense, boring into Dean's body, making his spine tingle and his stomach lurch in a good way.
"Thank you," Alpha Castiel replied in a polite tone, but at the same time, it seemed as if the flattery didn't mean much to him, and all he cared about was Dean. "Before they bring us food... tell me, what have you been doing while we haven't seen each other?"
Was that a trick question? It could have been. Even though he hadn't seen Alpha's men anywhere in the last few days, it was now absolutely certain that they had been watching him and were surely making regular reports to their boss.
"Nothing too interesting." He shrugged vaguely. "School and working at the diner. Normal stuff, you know, Alpha. I don't have a secret life of crime," like you, he added in his head, but thankfully didn't say it out loud. At least he managed to keep that last part out of his stupid mouth.
Despite the worst expectations, Alph's corners twitched in an amused smile and he narrowed his eyes like a cat that had swallowed a canary. Dean felt his own lips curl into a smile, along with his inner Omega purring contentedly because... damn it, he'd managed to make Alpha smile and he was ridiculously proud of it.
The moment was interrupted by three knocks on the door.
Like Alpha, Dean turned his head to the door and watched as Pyotr checked who was at the door as before, before opening it and letting in a Beta waitress carrying a tray with two bowls, a wrapper with some weird buns and a large pint of beer. Granted, it had a hell of a lot of head for Dean's taste, but he still salivated just seeing it.
Beta placed the bowl and beer in front of Alpha, then the other bowl in front of Dean, and finally the wrapper between them.
"Spasibo," Alpha said, probably in gratitude.
"Pozhaluysta. Mne priyatno sluzhit', batyushka," the waitress replied with a small bow before taking two steps back from the table and then quickly leaving the room with another bow.
Dean looked down at his bowl, not sure what to make of the food.
It looked like a thick soup, even red, with a hint of purple, that smelled like beef, which would have been fine. But it also smelled of cabbage and garlic, and he wasn't too keen on that. And what exactly were the purple bits? At first glance, they looked a bit like meat, which they were, but they were too square.
"Ulyana Leonidovna is a great cook. She can make borscht like I remember from my childhood," Alpha said as he started stirring the steaming soup with a spoon, sending an even stronger aroma of cabbage and garlic into the air, drowning out Alpha's sour smell. Not that Alpha noticed, as he continued calmly, "And her daughter," he gave a small nod in the direction of the door through which the waitress had just left, probably to indicate that he was referring to her, "maybe young, but she has talent after her own. She makes really good... schkvarkovee placky... I don't know how to say it in your language... pork buns...? Probably..." he said, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze fixed on Dean, but finally looking directly at him again. "Take and eat. They're my mother's recipe," he urged, tipping the bag of buns over to Dean.
Both were very firm recommendations, bordering on orders, so he took one... pork buns, as the Alpha called them, and grabbed a spoon.
He decided to try the pork buns first because, unlike the borscht in the bowl, they smelled of pork and were fluffy and soft as bread when squeezed. And there was cumin and big salt crystals on top. He'd never seen anything like it, but it didn't look as scary as cabbage.
He glanced at Alpha, who was breaking open his buns, placing half of it on a small plate under the bowl of borscht, and biting off half of it with his first spoonful. He mimicked him and then took a small bite of his half of the pork bun. It wasn't bad. It tasted a lot like pork, it was fatty, but at the same time a little choking. But you could eat it.
Thinking that the food Alpha offered him was strange but not disgusting, he took a spoonful of borscht. He'd heard of it in movies, but this was the first time he'd seen it in person. He put the spoon in his mouth and... There was beef in it, but mostly it tasted like boiled cabbage. And he finally figured out what the purple bits were: turnips. It tasted pretty bad. Not as bad as the raccoon stew his dad made them eat during wilderness survival training because that was all he and Sam could hunt, but it was still pretty disgusting.
He swallowed with some denial.
He couldn't just push the plate away and say he wasn't going to eat it, but he couldn't imagine eating it either. He wasn't hungry enough yet. Maybe if he just had some juice and a pork roll, it would look like he had eaten something and just wasn't hungry anymore.
"Is your brother feeling better?" Alpha broke the silence.
He gave him a quick look as he took a spoonful of juice. Obviously, the Alpha didn't bother to pretend out of politeness that he wasn't watching Dean's every move.
"Good," he replied curtly, hoping that would be enough, but the look the man on the other side of the table gave him said he wanted to hear more. "He's recovered, and today was his first day of school. He was excited about the library," he added, not knowing why.
"Does he like to read?"
"He loves books." He smiled at the image of Sammy sitting on the floor in a forgotten aisle of the school library, his nose buried in one of the books in the pile around him. He'd found him like that more than once when he hadn't made it to the exit so they could walk home together.
"Smart pup, huh?"
"Yeah, definitely a lot smarter than me. If I have anything to say about it, he'll go to a good university. Like Stanford or something. I try to... you know... make sure he goes to school, gets good grades, doesn't miss anything, doesn't get in trouble or anything. I just do what I can..." the words died on his lips, because what the hell was he doing? Why was he telling the asshole who had kidnapped him twice - OK, the second time wasn't exactly kidnapping - about Sammy and his plans to send him to college and give him a better future than the prospect of prison for petty crimes and constant travel. Dean didn't mind living like this. He liked it. Freedom with a hint of danger and the chance to drive the Impala into the sunset. But Sam was different, with his head full of statistics, data and information, like he had his own Google and Wikipedia combined. And with his penchant for salads and picking up pancakes at all sorts of demonstrations for the climate, Omegas, gay rights, and similar big issues that went beyond Dean.
"Your devotion to your brother is admirable," another awkward babble came from Alpha, and this time Dean was sure his ears and cheeks were burning.
Shit, why did he have to say things like that? And why did it make Dean's Omega melt into a sweet puddle of bliss?
"Normal." He shrugged. "Every good brother does that."
And you're full of shit, too, Winchester, he thought wryly, and would have added a few more peppy words if he hadn't also picked up a distinct hint of sour discontent amidst the scent of cabbage and beef that was rolling off the Alpha in one big wave. He quickly looked up directly into the Alpha's eyes, honestly a little worried that he'd slapped something to annoy him, but only caught a brief flash of blue before the Alpha lowered his gaze to his food. His face held no hint of anger or, ultimately, sadness. He seemed as damned inhumanly calm as ever, only he didn't seem worthy of saying anything more.
Dean waited motionlessly for some kind of reaction as the silence grew longer, but finally he took another spoonful of meat water and a bite of his pancakes. And with a quick glance he checked their silent entourage. Vadim must have left without Dean noticing, but he'd bet he was standing outside the door anyway. Jacob stood at the door from the inside, but he was tapping away on his cell phone. The only one paying attention to them was Pyotr, who was sitting in one of the chairs against the wall, also with his cell phone in his hand, but with his eyes currently fixed on Dean. When their eyes met, the hulking Beta smiled warmly and Dean found himself smiling back.
Despite the smile and the warm look, it was clear that the two Betas were there to keep him from leaving and to protect their boss. It was also clear that they had been doing this job for a long time, and simply standing a few feet away from Alpha Castiel while he ate was something completely normal for them. Were they really on his tail all the time?
"Do you like the borscht?" Alpha was the first to break the silence.
"It's good," he replied curtly, not even blinking at his lie.
"You haven't eaten anything."
"I'm not very hungry."
The Alpha narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly to the side. The scent of bitter almonds seeped through the herbaceous aroma, and Dean knew he was in trouble. His omega automatically hunkered down in anticipation of the alpha's wrath, and it took a surprising amount of effort to keep from hunching over and sticking his neck out. His mind raced again, wondering how it was possible for this particular Alpha to have such an effect on him. It was ridiculous... it was frustrating. He barely knew the man, and yet he always felt the need to please him. He had never been such an Omega before.
"I don't like being lied to, Dean. And I especially don't like it from my Omega. Tell me the truth," the Alpha ordered firmly, but there was no anger in his voice.
The truth? He wanted the truth? From his Omega? Well, if he wanted the truth, Dean would be more than happy to tell him the truth and he'd be more than happy to take the consequences. Better to get a few slaps than to keep groveling. He just wasn't cut out for it.
"You want the truth? Okay." He dramatically dropped the spoon onto the bowl. "Tastes like vomit," he judged the food too harshly, but he couldn't take it back now, and he couldn't even lower his eyes like an obedient Omega. He had to remain staring into the endless blue ocean, head held high, waiting for his punishment for his impertinence, which... didn't come. In fact, he didn't even smell another whiff of almond bitterness, but the subtle, sweet aroma of cherries and sugar, bravely making its way under the smell of food.
Not only was Alpha not fazed by his audacity, he liked it! But the same could not be said for Alpha's men, who shifted uneasily. Pyotr even stood up.
Castiel raised his free hand slightly to steady his men, and his eyes narrowed slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching a little, almost as if he were about to smile.
"Good," he said deliberately, leaning back in his chair so he could look down at Dean from beneath his squinted lids. "So, what would you like to eat?"
"A burger with a big order of fries," he answered without a moment's hesitation, knowing full well that they probably didn't have that here.
"Jacob," Castiel called to the Beta standing at the door, who immediately approached the table. "Get Dean a burger and fries."
"Sure, boss." Jacob nodded thoughtfully and was on his way to the door when Dean called after him:
"And I'll have some onion rings, too."
It was bold, and looking defiantly into the Alpha's eyes, he got exactly what he wanted. The honey cherry scent of freshly baked cake overpowered all the other smells in the room. It was strong, heavy and wonderfully intoxicating and Dean couldn't help but take several deep breaths of it, although he was careful not to let the Alpha see what he was doing.
But he noticed anyway, because his nostrils flared as he sucked in air and then lifted one corner in a grin that revealed his golden fangs.
"Get Dean's plate out of the way."
"Of course, batyushka," Pyotr nodded, and without the slightest blink of an eye at being turned into a mere waitress, he took Dean's plate, and in a moment the door had closed behind him as well.
Dean realized that this was the first time he was really alone with the Alpha. The first time they'd had a stormy encounter, there'd been a salesman, and then there'd always been one of the Alpha's guys. Now that they were alone, there was a chance for... anything. The Alpha could lunge at him, while Dean, on the other hand, could shove a fork down his throat and run. Only Castiel didn't even remotely look like he was about to make a move. He watched him calmly, chewing a bite of borscht.
"What does that mean?" He asked instead of stabbing with his fork, surprising himself. "The word they call you."
"Batyushka?" Alpha asked, scooping up another spoonful of meat and cabbage. "The literal translation is father, or rather..." a thoughtful furrow formed between his brows, "daddy."
He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Really? They call you Daddy? Let's talk about daddy issues..." he snorted mockingly, only to perk up a little in anticipation of Alpha's reaction. As before, this time all he got for his insolence was a roll of the eyes, which looked almost amused.
"Back home in Russia, it's a sign of affection and respect for a powerful man. For example, the head of a clan, the alpha of a pack, or a high church dignitary. It's their way of showing that they respect me and that they trust me to take care of them, just like a real Alpha father takes care of his family," the Alpha explained, with nothing negative in his voice or scent.
"And why don't they just call you Alpha, Alpha?" he didn't understand. All Alphas, when they wanted to be polite, were called Alpha. That was normal everywhere, wasn't it?
The Alpha swallowed the last bite of his food and pushed his plate aside before answering:
"It's not very common among us to address someone by their secondary gender in public. A remnant of communism."
"Like it's forbidden or something?" he asked a little incredulously. He didn't know much about European history, but he knew enough to know what 'communism' was. No freedom and rights, not just for Omegas but for everyone, imprisonment and execution of innocent people, hunger and poverty and soldiers in the streets, just like in the movies. Just nothing good.
"No, it's not forbidden," the Alpha replied, taking a deep drink of his beer. "It's just that people don't do it because for many decades it hasn't been safe or socially acceptable to claim to be an Alpha."
"Why wouldn't anyone want to claim to be Alpha?"
He could understand if Omegas didn't want people to know their secondary gender. But Alpha? That made no sense. Just being an Alpha opened literally every door.
"In the past, like everywhere else in the world, the Alphas ruled Russia. Not only the Tsar family, but most of the nobility and the rich were Alphas. This worked for many centuries before the idea that the people, the working class, should rule themselves emerged at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. And since the working class are the Betas, they should be the ones in power." He took another deep drink so that more than half the beer was gone. "I won't bore you with historical details... The Great Revolution broke out, followed by a bloody civil war, at the end of which Russia not only lost the last Tsarist dynasty, but it mainly affected the nobility and the rich. They were stripped of their titles and possessions, and many were killed or executed. Many out of spite, most for ideological reasons, and some because they refused to give up their old lives. In any case, Alpha status became a sign of the bourgeoisie's oppression and exploitation of the common, hardworking people, so even Alphas who had never belonged to the upper class preferred to stop publicly claiming their secondary designation for fear of persecution." He took another badge, tore a bite out of it, and added before putting it in his mouth: "Then Bolshevism spread across much of Europe and the Soviet Union was formed, and so to this day Alpha status is not as... valued in many Eastern countries as it is here in the West."
Yeah, that sounded pretty bad.
"I can imagine what happened to the Omegas," he said with a bitter taste in his mouth. If some crazy dictator dared to do that to the Alphas, what could he possibly have in store for the Omegas? The best that could be expected was that they would all end up barefoot at the stove, forced to push one puppy after another.
"They had to start working."
"Huh?"
"In the middle of the eighteenth century, Yekaterina the Great freed all Omegas from servitude and forbade them to do manual labor. And she also opened dozens of schools for them all over Tsarist Russia. This helped Omegas from rich families get an education at state expense, but those from poor families? They became a burden. The only use the family had for them was to sell them to an Alpha for a dowry. This was the practice until the Revolution. After that, when the Alphas got into such a bad social position, many Omegas were left destitute, thrown into poverty. They had to start working and supporting themselves." He shook the crumbs from his hands and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a gold lighter. "It was a hard time for everyone, but ironically, it was also the time when Russia took the first steps toward equality for the Omegas. The Bolsheviks saw to that," he finished, flicking the lighter and lighting a match.
Dean's own eyes slid to the red end of the cigarette and then to the pink lips that hugged the filter as Alpha took a deep drag. He watched, strangely fascinated, as the Alpha pulled out the cigarette and let the cloud of smoke escape from his mouth. For a brief moment, he could see not only the golden fangs and white teeth, but also the pale pink inside of his mouth and the tip of his red tongue wet with saliva.
Everything they'd been discussing was easily forgotten at that sight, which he wouldn't have hesitated to call damn hot if he hadn't been engulfed in a cloud of acrid-smelling smoke.
He wrinkled his nose at the smell, which was as familiar as it was unwelcome.
"Six minutes," he said, completely automatically.
"Hmm?" Alpha snarled questioningly, eyes narrowed in confusion.
"They say that every cigarette smoked shortens a man's life by six minutes," he explained. "I read that somewhere when... once I tried to get my father to quit smoking. It didn't work, but at least he's not lighting up one at a time. I think it helped a lot when I told him that he'd lose six minutes with every cigarette he smoked.
The Alpha didn't frown outright, but his usually flat expression became a little more impassive as he took another drag from his cigarette.
"I guess I don't have to ask if you want ..." he said, holding up the pack.
Dean frowned.
"No, thanks. I'll pass on the lung cancer. Besides, it must taste like shit," he said aloud what he thought every time he saw and especially smelled someone smoking.
"It's not that bad," Alpha replied, reaching over to shovel the ashes into the ashtray next to the pitcher of water and... bell? "You get used to it quickly. I've been smoking for thirty years. I was even younger than you when I started."
No, he certainly didn't understand how someone could ruin their lungs or sense of smell for thirty years. Then again, he couldn't say he didn't, since their Alpha had been smoking for about the same amount of time.
"You know smoking ruins your sense of smell?"
"That's kind of why I started," he replied cryptically. What Alpha, or Omega for that matter, would voluntarily numb his nose? If Dean didn't have his sense of smell, he'd just be screwed. He wouldn't know anything, like the fact that the Alpha was just now, cigarette in hand, relaxed and content, just a tiny bit more than before. Or that the smoke, if it weren't so pungent, would somehow be a strange match for the smell of roasted cherries and bitter almonds. As if he was already part of the musky aura around Alpha.
"But I smell you perfectly," Alpha added into the brief silence, licking his lower lip almost suggestively.
Dean concentrated on the tip of his tongue sliding over the cracked skin and...
"Smoking makes your balls shrink, too."
He stiffened. Was he really going to tell the murderous Alpha he was sitting at a table with that he had small balls? Yeah, he really was. Blame it on his hungry stomach or his foul mouth, but that's exactly what he was doing. And honestly, if the Alpha decided to stick his balls in his face right now, Dean wouldn't be surprised. What he hadn't expected was the look of surprise on the Alpha's face. He remained motionless, the cigarette raised halfway to his mouth, whereupon a sound resembling a low growl came from his chest, slipping from his lips like a raspy chuckle, along with which he narrowed his eyes and finally bared his teeth.
"I assure you, I have no such problem... Dean," the Alpha growled in a low tone that seemed threatening, but was only a playful threat.
Dean swallowed. The voice and the words sent a shiver down his spine that quickly found its way to his ass. Shit! Shit! And shit again! He was lucky that Alpha hadn't smelled that little nuisance in the car at the beginning of dinner, but he certainly wouldn't have missed it if he'd started getting wet right here and now.
The knock on the door was his salvation, even if it made him literally jump in his chair. It tore the moment apart and startled him just enough to make the creeping feeling of excitement fade. Thank God.
"Vkhodit!"
At Alpha's invitation, Pyotr came in with Jacob carrying two plates. On one was a burger with fries, and on the other were onion rings. They had really gotten exactly what Dean wanted and how wonderful it smelled as Jacob placed the plates in front of him. Oh, thank God. Finally, a real meal.
"Happy?" Alpha asked, leaning over the table as if to get closer. Maybe he'd have something really good instead of a pile of cabbage and beets, but Dean didn't want to share. The burger was all his, though he could spare a couple of onion rings.
"Yeah. All I'm missing is a nice cold beer," he dared to complain a little, though he didn't expect the Alpha to oblige. He had served him only water, hadn't he?
But the Alpha didn't even blink at his request. He downed the rest of his beer in one gulp and held up two fingers in a new command. Jacob just nodded, took the empty glass and disappeared.
Dean saw him off with a quick glance, which he also used to check on Pyotr, who had settled back into his old spot against the wall, before grabbing his burger. He was terribly hungry, even hungrier than when he'd come here, because then his stomach had been tight with nerves. That had somehow disappeared now, allowing him to hungrily bite into the perfect taste of beef, fluffy bun and grilled bacon. God, this was a hundred times better than some borscht.
He chewed a big bite contentedly and looked across the table at Castiel, who was smoking and returning the look with narrowed eyes. There was silence between them, and it was... nice. So peaceful, and scented with a mixture of honeyed roasted cherries and his own scent.
Jacob returned and two steaming mugs landed on their table.
He licked his greasy fingers and took the glass. After one sip, he could tell it wasn't American beer. No real American beer would have produced such a high head, which he stuffed up his nose. He set the pint down, took a drag, and wiped his wet nose on his sleeve before saying:
"Russian beer?"
"Czech Svijany."
He didn't know.
"I don't suppose you have any real American here, do you?"
"No. American beers are runny piss," Alpha replied casually, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
"Hey! Our beer is not piss!" He shouted, seemingly outraged, but really just wanting to start laughing, especially when Alpha bared his teeth a little while smelling the room with happiness.
"You were the first to say that borscht tasted like vomit," he replied, his voice a little deeper, seeming to come from his chest along with a low growl.
He gritted his teeth and snarled playfully over his burger, but the snarl quickly stuck in his throat as he caught a disturbed movement from Pyotr and Jacob out of the corner of his eye. What did they think he was going to do? Throw away his hard-earned burger and leap across the table armed with a blunt dinner knife? He had no such plan when he came here, and even less now. Alpha hasn't given him an excuse to do this yet, and when he finally decides to make his move... he'd rather no one else be here.
"Need to be here?" he asked, nodding his chin at Alpha's men.
For a moment, the Alpha didn't seem to know what he was talking about, until he slowly turned his head towards his people and looked at them as if he saw them for the first time.
"Do you want them to leave?"
"I liked it better when we were alone," he replied, conjuring up one of his flirtatious smiles that always got him a few extra wings or a free candy bar. Especially when dealing with an Alpha.
The Alpha simply waved his hand and the two men left the lounge. As soon as the door closed behind them and they were alone again, he realized one thing: The Alpha had done everything his way. It seemed surprising, considering that everything about Castiel - the way he spoke, the way he dressed, the way he walked, even the posture of his body - screamed that he was an Alpha, with all the typical traits, such as a sense of self-importance or the idea that everyone and everything around him belonged to him and was there for his amusement and use. He would rather expect someone like that to impose his will on him, because as an Alpha he knows best what is good for the Omega. Maybe it was the stupidity of the allied species he believed in, or rather Alpha's twisted desire to make Dean really like him and agree with everything he wanted him to do.
He didn't stand a chance. Dean was no naive fool, and he had no intention of being fooled by nice words and nice gestures, but the thought crossed his mind that he could use the Alpha a little. Get something real out of him, not just empty promises. It always worked for him when it came to small things, so why not try asking for something bigger.
He decided to try something small first, just to see if Alpha's answer would be 'yes' this time.
"Shall we have a drink then?" he said casually.
Dad sometimes gave him a bottle of beer or poured it for him in a dark bar. He hadn't had a problem with it since he was fourteen, when he started pulling himself up by his shoulders. Something weak like beer just made people close their eyes a little. But to give him whiskey, no one had ever been that blind or stupid, and he had tried it before accepting that he could just soak up his father's supplies.
He wondered if Alpha would give him a drink or refuse like a real adult.
"What would you like?" Alpha asked without hesitation. "The bar has Scotch whisky, American bourbons and European spirits, including real Russian vodka."
"Something expensive from the top shelf," he commanded confidently, since he usually saw expensive things there.
Alpha raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"The most expensive thing is always in the back," he corrected her with a small smile, turning his corners up. "I'll choose something. Any other requests?" he asked as he raised a mug to drink. He was obviously having fun, because his eyes were sparkling and the way he looked at it said that he wasn't talking about it so much as at Dean's expense.
He frowned. He didn't want to be laughed at, damn it.
"Yeah, maybe they'll miss the paycheck for the night your guys kidnapped me," he snapped, irritated by Alpha's grin, not thinking about what he was saying or how it might sound.
"That's fair," Alpha replied calmly, drinking quickly and reaching into his pocket where, like a good Mafia man, he pulled out a bundle of hundred-dollar bills fastened with a gold-silver clasp. On it was engraved a bird with a ruby eye sitting on a flowering branch. Alpha pulled out two bills and pushed them across the table with two fingers, as if it were a trifle, and yet it was more than half of his weekly paycheck at the diner.
"What if I asked for more?" he asked, needing only to test the limits he was running into.
Alpha said nothing and simply added three more bills to the first two. On the white tablecloth were five neatly aligned benes, beautifully clean, no corners folded, just bent in half, as if they had just been picked up at the bank teller. It occurred to him that this was what clean, laundered money looked like. Five hundred he could have had for... what exactly?
"What am I supposed to do if I take the money?" he asked. What can you get on the street for $500? He guessed that ordinary manual labor or smoking would not suffice. Not that he ever cared how much paid sex cost. They were never so bad with money that he had to worry about it. They just slept in the car at too many truck stops.
"I don't want anything for it. It's a gift, Dean."
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Is that how it works, Alpha? You give me everything I ask for and ask for nothing in return?"
Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Everything is a broad concept. I'll give you anything you want as long as it's within my power, but some things come at a price. You mustn't forget that," he said almost philosophically, but Dean understood very well.
"Yeah, sure... my price..." he snorted sarcastically, but with a cold feeling in his stomach that was a little fearful, but mostly angry. He knew the price of his life and he was damn sure he should want something more. "You want my pretty ass tonight, Alpha? You'll get it, but I want something in return. I want..." What did he want? Five seconds ago he hadn't known he'd make it this far, but now he couldn't back down. He must have thought of something. It's like... "a car."
If his request made any impression on the Alpha, he didn't show it. Calmly, he tucked the money back into the inside pocket of his jacket before leaning back comfortably, looking Dean in the eyes without a look of confusion or surprise. Not a muscle in his face moved, and his eyes were a little cooler than they had been a moment ago. As if the warm blue lagoon had suddenly been covered with a crust of ice.
"Okay," he agreed, as if it meant nothing. "Any particular ones?"
Dean didn't really know how to answer, so he just opened his mouth like a fish out of water and then closed it quickly so he wouldn't look like a total idiot. He hadn't expected Alpha to agree. He was expecting more of a sneer... but had he forgotten who he was talking to? Alpha paid for sex today and every day, so he probably shouldn't have been surprised that he agreed. Surprising that he would agree to something so expensive. Well, at least he seems to think a lot of you, Winchester, he thought mockingly and decided not to deal with the feeling of disappointment that had settled in his chest. The fact that the Alpha had been so nice all night meant nothing. This had been business from the start, and only his stupid inner Omega thought otherwise.
He clenched his jaw.
Well, if he's going to negotiate the price, he'll at least want a real car that's worth it.
"How about a nice convertible from Aston?"
"Of course. Why not..." Alpha agreed, not moving his eyebrow and reaching into his cell phone pocket.
He frowned and watched quietly as he searched his phone. In fact, he wasn't planning on finding a dealer to sell the Aston right now, was he? That would be crazy. Cars like that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. They certainly weren't selling them on every corner. Not that he knew anything about that. The closest he ever came to one was about five feet, when he saw it through the window of the Impala that was in the next lane on the highway. And he never really cared where or how to buy such a car, because its price far exceeded the value of their property or what they could steal on their credit cards. Except maybe the Baby. But his father would never give it up, and neither would Dean, even if someone wanted to trade it for the hundred most expensive cars in the world.
Alpha seemed to have found what he was looking for, whatever it was, because he put his phone on the table, turned it in Dean's direction, and then moved it across the table so he could get a good look at the screen.
It really was a car show page, and from the picture, this year's DBS convertible model in silver, with everything he could want and an original price of 360 thousand, reduced to a 'poor' 320 because it was an exhibition piece.
"It's just basic equipment and a bit of mileage, but you could still have it tonight," Alpha said in an almost formal tone that made it sound like he was closing a deal, which he actually... was. "They're open till nine. We'll get to my place in no time, and when we're done, I'll take you to the showroom. I'll pay, they'll write the papers for you. And if you want, you can reserve it now. My credit card is already verified. Just click," he added, swiping across the screen to get to the "reserve" button.
The car was beautiful, but more importantly, it could be sold. Even if he sold it for a lousy quarter, it would still be around eighty thousand. They would no longer have to live in cheap motels, work in smelly bistros, buy clothes at charity shops, and pray that Sam would not get caught stealing books from the library or comics from the store and ruin their future. And all he had to do was bend over for Alpha, which he had to do anyway, but he'd really get something out of it. Something for Sammy. Could he have done it?
He stared at his phone and couldn't decide.
He felt Alpha's cold gaze on him, felt his very dominant presence and was pinched by the corrupt undertone of dissatisfaction that appeared beneath his cherry scent. He quickly lifted his eyes to find him leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on the backrest and the ends of the other running over the dewy beer as he watched Dean from under his closed eyelids. His expression and posture were in complete contrast to the unpleasant smell and the coldness in his eyes, with which he had never really looked at Dean before.
He closed his lips and slid his phone back across the table.
"No. I won't do that," he said firmly, shaking his head. "I'm not serious, Alpha. I don't want the car. I don't even want your money," he added before grabbing a wad of bills, clenching them angrily in his fist, and throwing them back on the table.
He looked defiantly into Alpha's eyes and waited for an answer. Like he couldn't just change his mind now that he had set a price. That he's just a provocative little Omega bitch.
Alpha's expression suddenly softened, his eyes filled with warmth again, and the sweet scent of cherry pie replaced the previous spoiled note in a few breaths.
"I'm glad you didn't," Alpha said in a deep voice that actually sounded like relief. "And I'm glad I wasn't wrong about you," he added before picking up his phone and putting it back in his pocket.
He was confused.
"You don't -" he stopped when he realized that he was going to ask why Alpha didn't want to fuck him and that his voice sounded unreasonably judgmental. For a brief moment he closed his lips and knelt down so that when he spoke he would not sound like the Omega he needed. "You didn't want me to accept?"
"No, I didn't," Alpha replied without further explanation.
He looked at him and frowned. Maybe he didn't want to, because he didn't really have such an expensive car. Sure, his clothes looked like they must have cost a few thousand dollars, and all that gold - a watch, a bracelet, a cross hanging over a tie, a gold pin in a knot, a gold buckle on a bundle of money - looked expensive, but after all... it didn't have to be real gold, did it? The Alpha's outfit was the same. And this restaurant wasn't exactly overflowing with luxury. And his expensive car might have been a rental. Yeah, maybe that's what this was all about.
"What would you do if I accepted?" he asked with a hint of provocation in his voice, ready to inhale when he answered, because if Alpha was lying now, he'd know it by the smell. Damn it, the guy had no idea what scent blockers were, and from the first moment, he was aware of how badly he smelled... expressively.
"I'd take you home, fuck your ass dry, put you on my knot, and then bite you," he replied with complete calm, his expression and smell unchanged, just raising his eyebrows a little as he raised his beer to his lips and added, "Oh... and of course you'd get your reward."
His breath caught in his throat and his stomach became a mess. Partly, though he hated to admit it, it was the excitement of the image Alpha had painted for him, but mostly it was fear. Not that he didn't know that Alpha was chasing the barrel all the time, damn it, those things were chasing all the Alphas in his head, but to hear it out loud like that was scary. Suddenly it was too real.
He took a quick look at the door.
Alpha's men were out there, and even if they weren't, he somehow doubted he could get to the door before Castiel could catch him and bite him, just like he'd imagined.
He turned back to him.
"What's stopping you, anyway?" he asked, hating how desperate his voice sounded.
"You are my True Mate. That is God's will and gift. We were created equal and complement each other. To force you to mate would be a shame to His plan."
Maybe Alpha was being nice today, and maybe he really believed what he was saying, but just because he had Dean's life in his hands didn't allow them to be 'equal'.
"But if I traded my ass for a car, would mating suddenly be okay? Wouldn't that be against God's plan?"
"No, even then it wouldn't be right, but..." his expression froze a little, "...when someone sells themselves like a whore, I treat them like one. And whores, as you know, have no right to say no."
"And I do?" he asked sharply. "Can I say 'no'? Can I do what I want?"
"Yes." He nodded slightly. "Within certain limits, which you already know. You know too much to live your old life, but you still have a choice. It can be either this," he nodded to the table between them, "or you can join us," he said, leaving a short pause so that Dean could absorb a little of what his words meant. "Either way...now and at any time in the future, you have the chance to choose one of three options: death, me, or the Bratva."
Dean licked his dry lips.
What Alpha was basically telling him was that he didn't have to fuck, but he still wouldn't get away with it because he would have to join his criminal organization or he would end up with a bullet in his head. Well, it wasn't exactly what you'd call a happy choice. Surprisingly, it reassured him more than it scared him. He had no reason to trust Castiel, but he did, and he suddenly had the irrational feeling that he had more freedom. And the hope that he could say no to Alpha and not end up in a black plastic bag. After all, he wasn't exactly the academic type, he didn't see any other future for himself than behind the wheel of an Impala, and crime wasn't entirely foreign to him either. The only thing he wasn't sure of was what Alpha's men were probably doing.
Suddenly he heard Slash's guitar solo coming out of his pocket. While it used to tickle his ears, this time it irritated his frayed nerves even more. Unnecessarily aggressive, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, only to find that he had a video call from Sammy, which of course he could not accept. He quickly moved his thumb to the red button and ended the call, but before he could put the phone back in his pocket or even apologize to the Alpha, he noticed that he had several incoming messages from the little Alpha in the chat. He turned off the sound alert because Becky could be incredibly annoying, and as far as Lisa was concerned... he didn't even want to think about her when he was with Alpha Castiel. Now it looked like he was missing something important. He hoped that nothing had happened to Sammy.
Worried, he opened the chat and quickly scanned the messages his younger brother had left him. Most of them were asking him to call right away and a few expletives, but the main topic was the motel manager showing up at the door several times.
"Shit!" he swore in a half voice.
"Problem?" he said from the other side of the Alpha, whose presence he had completely forgotten for a few seconds.
He quickly looked up at him, only to find him watching him with a calm expression on his face, but his head slightly tilted to the side of the question.
"Yeah, kinda." I forgot to pay for the motel, the manager only takes cash, and I didn't leave enough in the room to pay for another week. And Sammy doesn't want to go to the ATM by himself," because the manager might come in and rifle through things looking for money and stumble across our little arsenal.
"I understand." I'll let you go back and take care of your brother," he said without a hint of dissatisfaction at being interrupted literally in the middle of the conversation. Instead, he quietly rang the prepared bell.
Almost immediately the door opened and Pyotr entered. So that's what the bell was for; to summon the waiter.
"Dean is leaving. Bring him home," he ordered the sprawling Beta, who just nodded and took his jacket off the hanger to offer it to Dean as clothing.
He stood up and simply took the offered jacket from Betty, because it would be really embarrassing if he had to put it on. His hand immediately slipped into his pocket, where his wallet was, just to check it. He had enough money to pay for the next month, he was just distracted and forgot to go to the manager in the morning.
There's another burger at the bar. "I thought your little brother might need something to eat," Pyotr said.
He looked at him in surprise.
"Um... yeah, okay, thanks. I'll get it," he replied, not knowing what else to say.
"Dean," Alpha said.
He turned to him and looked into his soft blue eyes.
"You forgot your money," he pointed to the crumpled bills on the table.
Dean frowned.
"I said I didn't want your money," he replied, perhaps sharper than he should have.
"It was a gift, and it's rude to refuse a gift. Take it," he added in a tone too close to command for Dean to easily resist.
He went back to the table and took the bills with some reluctance. He was about to put them in his pocket when Alpha's hand shot out like a snake and his strong fingers clasped his wrist.
"I've been thinking about this all evening," Alpha murmured in his deep, gravelly voice, and before Dean could do more than open his mouth in protest, he was pulled into his personal space.
He stumbled forward and exhaled sharply before Alpha's lips pressed against his mouth. They were a little cracked, tasting of beer and cigarettes, and his stubble scratched Dean's almost smooth cheeks. He took a quick breath, and all he could feel was the heavy, all-encompassing scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds, tinged with the intense sweetness of happiness and a subtle hint of musky excitement. This was... Oh my God... shit... it was intoxicating. A stupid kiss pushed thoughts of Sam to the back of his mind and all he could hear was his Omega snorting happily, just wanting to get even closer to the Alpha. Surrender to him.
Before he realized what he was doing, a soft moan escaped his throat and he opened his mouth a little more in an invitation that Alpha immediately took advantage of. When his tongue slipped into Dean's mouth, it was as uncompromising and sovereign as anything on Alpha. No gentle, shy fumblings with girls his age, or a little bolder with the few older ones. This was possessive, and it quickly sapped him of his breath and the strength in his legs.
He had to break the kiss first, just to catch his breath.
Castiel growled softly.
There was a small hint of dissatisfaction that made Dean bow his head almost to his shoulder. That satisfied Alpha, and his angry growl turned into a much happier purr, pulling him even closer so that Dean's forehead was actually resting on his shoulder. He vaguely felt Alpha rub his chin against his ear, face and neck. He branded him with his scent. He appropriated his. A small part of Dean's brain, where his brother was now, said this was wrong. That he shouldn't be branded by an almost unknown Alpha, especially this one. But a much larger part of him really wanted nothing more than this, and the fact that Alpha's cherry scent mixed with his own... that he felt the quickly drying moisture on his face... it was the most satisfying thing he had felt in... a very long time.
He wanted to fight this feeling, or at least he thought he should, but he didn't. He didn't even know why. He just surrendered and relaxed in Alpha's arms with a long exhalation, closing his eyes.
From a distance, he noticed that the hand holding his wrist had disappeared. Probably it had moved to the back of his head, because there he felt strong fingers piercing his hair. At the touch, he tilted his head to the side, exposing his throat. Another small but happy growl escaped Alpha's lips before he pressed his nose and mouth against Dean's neck. At that moment, it occurred to him that Castiel's teeth were too close to his gland, separated only by a thick flannel shirt and a thin t-shirt - certainly not an adequate barrier against Alpha's fangs - but he didn't care. He didn't care about everything that happened today, what Alpha said, and he didn't care about his beliefs. Over the years, the accumulated defiance and training to suppress the omega instincts had simply been forgotten in favor of this perfect moment of bliss, which he realized was just his stupid biology, but he didn't care.
"You should go," a whispering voice said close to his ear, and with those words the Alpha slowly backed away.
He looked into his eyes.
He saw that Castiel, like himself, did not want to interrupt this moment. He could see it in his eyes, and he could tell by how reluctantly he pulled his fingers out of Dean's hair. But they both knew they couldn't stay here and...
Suddenly, as if his brain had jumped again, he painfully realized what he had just done, and the only thought he had was that he wanted to... no, he had to get away from Alpha before he could do some fucking crap. He had to get home to Sammy. He had to go now.
He looked away, his heart suddenly beating wildly, and rushed to the door with only one thought: to run. It was only a lingering feeling that he had the feet of a broth that prevented him from really running like a scared little boy. And as he stretched around the big Beta, he vaguely noticed that the Alpha wished him good night, and the voices of the people in the compound or of Vadim with Jacob, whom he had at his side, were equally distant.
The first thing he noticed was the cold, city-smelling air outside, which drove the smell of cherries out of his head, and the thought of being screwed anyway because of Alpha Castiel.
Notes:
Dictionary:
Spasibo – Děkuji
Pozhaluysta. Mne priyatno sluzhit‘, batyushka – You're welcome. I will be happy to serve.
Vkhodit – Come in...
Officially, borscht is a soup, but it is commonly eaten as a main dish. It is often served with bread (European bread, not toasted bread), although it is not a requirement. The basic ingredients are beef stock, cabbage and beets. Other ingredients are optional, such as... carrots, onions, beef, sausage and more.
Škvarkové placky/Schvarkovee placky/Pork buns are not Russian food, although they probably have something similar in Russia. It is Czech and Slovak food. If anyone wants to try it, you can try the attached recipe. But you have to convert metric units to imperial units yourself, because imperial units are nonsense and I don't want to deal with it. :D
Pork buns(Schvarkovee placky)
Ingredients:
120 g pork greaves
500 g semi-coarse flour
180 g lard
125 ml milk (or more as needed)
20 g of yeast
1 egg
1 pinch of sugar (for leavening)
salt
coarse salt
grinded pepper
crushed cumin
1 egg for brushingPrepare the yeast from crushed yeast, a spoonful of lukewarm milk, a pinch of sugar and 2 spoons of flour. Mix and let rise in heat.
Cut the pork greaves into small pieces
Put sifted flour, solid lard, salt and pepper into a bowl. Add yeast, egg, pork greaves and water. Mix into the dough, cover with a towel and leave to rise thoroughly (at least an hour).
We form balls from the dough, place them on a baking sheet and press them into a pancake. Brush with a beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse salt and ground cumin.
Place in an oven heated to 374 °F and bake until golden.
Chapter Text
Even though the door had closed behind Dean a few minutes ago, his scent was still strong in the air. The apple blossoms and the pine trees and the sweet scent of the excited Omega that made his Alpha long for one thing; to go after Dean, to tear him down and bite down on his beautiful scented throat to claim him completely. He took. He had never felt that desire so strongly with anyone, and most of the time when his thoughts turned to the need to mate with one of his lovers for more than a few seconds, it was at the moment of orgasm and just after. The instinctive need to make sure that the partner he had just filled with his semen stayed with him so that he could watch over and protect his puppies. But always his rational brain caught up with his Alpha's thoughts literally in an instant.
He leaned back and stretched his legs a little to relieve the half hard erection in his pants.
That was the second thing. The scent of an Omega, especially an excited Omega, could make him hard, but at the same time it was always unpleasant. The sweetness was too much for him. But not with Dean. His sweet undertone was simply exciting, not difficult. Even when he dug his nose right into his throat, literally right into the gland barely hidden behind the two layers of cloth, it was still nothing but intoxicating. And the warmth of his body... the way his muscles stretched under his shirt as he breathed deeply... the way his neck closed as he showed it in the menu and humility... it affected his Alpha instincts more than any Beta or even Alpha he had ever been with. And that having sex with another Alpha could whip the instincts of both in a way that was hard to describe other than animal.
Castiel realized that what he was feeling now was mostly based on how his pheromones interacted with each other. But he also saw the higher will. The Lord's intention is to bring them together for the rest of their lives. The scent was what stopped him from briefly considering killing Dean to get rid of the witness. The scent made him find a way to keep him alive, no matter what he knew. Yes, it was the scent that drew him to him. But it was Dean himself, his sassy mouth and sharp tongue, the intelligence sparkling in the green eyes, and his fierce loyalty and obvious love for his little brother that he admired and why he wanted to get to know him better.
Pyotr interrupted his thoughts with a polite cough.
"Ulyana Leonidovna asks if you were satisfied and if you want anything else?"
"No, nothing. And it was delicious. As always," he replied a little distractedly, not looking at Pyotr, but he was staring at him, so he looked up and found Beta looking at him with a little amused smile.
He raised an eyebrow.
"She's worried that your Omega hasn't eaten. She said she saw him from the kitchen and he was all skin and bones."
His corners clicked in his smile. Ulyana Leonidovna was an Omega of a very plump figure and considered any man, regardless of the secondary sex, to be too thin if he did not have at least as full a belly as her husband. He suspected that he considered himself to be particularly emaciated, because she gave him a caring look every time she carried away just a little bit of undernourished food, which she gave him anyway with a third of the larger portion than the others. Out of respect, she kept quiet.
"Tell her that the borscht is too... saturated for American tastes," he decided to send her a small, merciful lie after Pyotr, because to say that her excellent borscht considered Dean to be vomit would probably lead her to tears. He assumed and hoped that no one would tell her about the smuggled burgers.
"I thought you'd want to tell her something like that," Pyotr replied with a smile as his phone beeped. He glanced at it before turning back to Castiel. "He's home, boss," he informed him immediately, showing him his phone, which had a picture of Dean walking to the motel's front desk. "Yeah, and the guys wrote that he was having some trouble paying for the room. I took care of it myself," he added.
If he couldn't give Dean and his brother a better place to stay without attracting too much attention, he could at least make sure they were as comfortable as possible where he lived now.
"Wonderful." He nodded slightly and picked up the box on the table to take out his cigarette. "Anything else that needs my attention?" he asked before lighting a cigarette.
Satisfied, he inhaled the hot smoke. He needed a little distraction from Dean and his wonderful scent and body before he went to the car. He didn't want to walk through a full house with a bulge in his pants. A cigar and a beer along with a little bargaining might help.
"The German lost another hundred and twenty thousand yesterday."
Castiel blew out the smoke.
The fact that the German lost a lot of money in their businesses was nothing special. He had a really unlucky hand of cards, but he never learned and kept playing. At one point he owed almost three million dollars and had to sell one of his houses in Germany to pay off part of the debt. Now, as far as Castiel could remember, his debt was somewhere between five hundred and seven hundred thousand.
The other one hundred and twenty was no big deal, so he looked at Pyotr questioningly to see why he was even starting to talk about it.
"And on the way home, he did this," Pyotr said before quickly searching for something on his cell phone, which he then handed to Castiel. "There are more pictures..."
He put a cigarette in the corner and took the phone.
He did not recognize the girl in the photo, and it was not because her face was swollen, purple-red and bloody from the German hitting her in the face with something hard. He simply did not know the faces of all the girls he owned. He doubted that Vladko knew her, even though it was his job to take care of her.
This one had black hair, an eye that wasn't so swollen that she couldn't open it, it was dark brown to almost black, and her features and pale brown skin indicated that she might be from Turkey. Her lip was torn, part of her front tooth was missing, her hair was disheveled, and one ear was bloody when he pulled out her earring. Her face looked devastated, and just because Vladko had her photographed, he knew it was luxurious enough to have all this damage repaired. Dental crowns, lip and ear plastic surgery, not to mention a huge gash above her eye. It's not free. If it was a street whore, he wouldn't bother, and if she was so scarred she couldn't work, they'd just get rid of her. Every day, containers of molded garbage left for China.
But this one was exclusive.
He ran his finger over the screen several times to look at the rest of the damage. Most of the photos showed bruises. Hand prints on her wrists, a fist wound on her upper arm, a large bruise under her neck where the German had pressed her forearm against her neck. Bruises on her hips and thighs. The two worst things he saw were an Alpha tooth mark on the outside of her shoulder and on her right breast. Such bites healed quickly because the Alpha's saliva contained enzymes that promoted healing, and they rarely became inflamed for the same reason - unless it was a refusal to mate - but the scars that remained were clearly visible and could hardly be confused with anything else. Without further plastic surgery to cover them sufficiently, they couldn't offer this girl to a private Alpha client. Most Alphas could not stand the sight of another Alpha's bite. At best it disgusted them, at worst it made them angry. Although there were a few who had the delightful pleasure of invading foreign territory and knotting someone else's Mate, but if she were to focus only on them, her clientele would shrink significantly A small clientele was never good for business.
"He knotted her?" he asked as he handed the phone back to Pyotr.
"Yes. He did it in the ass."
He rubbed the root of his nose as the smoke slowly dissipated.
Aside from the bruises and bites, he probably ripped her ass off. Literally. That meant a liquid diet and lost profits for at least two weeks. Some people just couldn't take care of things they borrowed.
"He's got an Omega wife, right?" he asked; Pyotr nodded in agreement. "Good. I think it's time to pay him a visit and collect some of the debt. And tell your men to talk to his Omega thoroughly. If anyone can explain to him how to handle borrowed things, it will be her."
"I understand. How strong should we be in the conversation?"
"Not enough to leave any permanent damage. After all, a German is a quality and long-term customer. It would be useless to lose the profits we get from him."
"Yes, boss."
"Now sit down, my friend," he said, tapping the table next to him to indicate where he wanted it, and waiting for Beta to pull up his chair and sit down. "You have a nephew born here in America, don't you?" he asked, putting out the cigarette.
"Two, actually. One is fifteen and the other is only nine."
Fifteen... that was perfect. He was practically as old as Dean and not much older than Dean's brother, and he was born in America, so he was unfortunately more American than Russian, as was often the case in these cases. When it came to Castiel's questions, it was the perfect combination.
He leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"I want to buy something for Dean. What kind of gift would your older nephew like?"
°°0°°
On the way to the motel, his heart slowly calmed down and his head cleared enough to push his miserable, whining Omega to the back of his mind and not ask Vadim to turn him around and drive him back to Alfa Castiel. The idea that he had to take care of Sammy and the weight of the paper bag of food on his knees helped in part. He would have forgotten it if Jacob hadn't put it in his arms as he sat next to him.
The Toyota stopped in the same place as the last time; out of sight of their room and the reception. And Dean didn't wait for someone to open it for him this time - although Jacob obviously wanted to - he just got out and shut the door without saying goodbye. He had to get the hell away from everything that reminded him of Alpha because he refused to deal with what had happened, even the tight feeling of loss he felt.
He clenched his jaw and hurried to the reception, noticing that Alpha's men's car had left the parking lot. Probably just to park it on the nearest street, where they'd be watching him secretly for the rest of the night.
He opened the reception door and headed straight for the counter. Shots rang out from the back room, where the manager usually lay on the sofa by the TV. Beta couldn't hear him because the TV was too loud and he was deaf. He pressed the buzzer on the counter several times and immediately heard a loud buzzing sound from the back room and saw a light shining over the door.
He didn't have to wait long for the cursing manager to come out from behind the counter, limping down to the counter he was leaning on and giving Dean a dull look from under his thick gray eyebrows. It was obvious from the prosthetic leg and the dog tags under his shirt that he was a veteran, but he would not say where he had served, even when Dean's father asked him personally and introduced himself as a former Marine. Then he whispered something about it being no one's business. But he had the sharp look of a soldier and still smelled of irritation.
"What?"
"I'm here to pay for another week. Room sixteen," he said as he put the bag of burgers down on the counter and reached for his wallet. He stumbled over the crumpled bills that he had casually tucked into his pocket as he ran out of the restaurant. It would probably be best to pay them to get rid of them as soon as possible.
"It's already paid for a month in advance," the manager snapped.
Surprised, he looked at the bills he had just pulled out. Sammy didn't have enough cash, unless he could get it somehow. There were vending machines and a few occupied rooms, so yeah, there was money to be made if Sam decided not to wait for Dean to come back. But... His gaze slipped to the laminated price list taped to the reception desk. It was paid per night or up to a week in advance, that was the rule.
He wasn't even confused. He knew who was responsible. He pursed his lips angrily and put the crumpled bills back in his pocket.
"You can't rent a room a month in advance. Who paid you for this?" he asked sharply, needing to be sure who he really was. For a small moment he thought that maybe... maybe their Alpha had come back... but that was bullshit. I'm sure he'd be in touch.
"I didn't ask and I don't care," the manager replied, leaning back a little. "If these guys tell me they want peace and quiet and will pay a month in advance, I'll take the money and shut up. Whatever you two are doing in there, I don't want to know about it. And you... don't ever come here again. I don't want any trouble," he added sharply before turning and limping back into the back room, leaving Dean standing there.
Damn it.
Why did Alpha do that? He did not ask for his help and he did not want to be indebted to him for anything, especially when he heard very clearly what he thought of those who let themselves be paid. He could take care of Sammy himself. He had a job, the money their dad had left them, and fake credit cards. And if he ran out of savings, he could always get more. He always had, even when he was a kid. He didn't need anyone's help.
Annoyed, he pushed himself away from the counter, grabbed the paper bag, and walked out into the cold evening air. On the way to her room, he looked around as he always did, but all he saw was a half-empty parking lot. Not that that was reassuring.
He opened the door and walked into the room, only to meet Sammy's gaze, glancing over the edge of the book his brother was reading while he sat at the kitchen table. Probably because it was the best light there was and so he could check if the warden was approaching their room again.
Sam closed the book harder than he was used to and stood up with a frown on his face.
"Where have you been?" there was a snarl of dissatisfaction in his voice, but it was not really a snarl. "I wrote you like... a hundred times or so. And you hung up on me."
"Relax, Sammy, I just ordered," he replied, picking up a bag of food. "I brought you a burger!"
"It's Sam, not Sammy," he corrected as usual. "Did you pay for the room?" he asked instead of taking the offered bag, keeping one hand on the table.
"Yes. Right now. Now take your food," he urged him a second time, a little irritated.
The little Alpha measured him with the frowning look of his damned searching eyes before he decided to take two more steps and take the bag out of Dean's hands. But as soon as he touched it, he stiffened and his nostrils widened as he sucked in the air. Another sound he emitted between the pricked fangs was definitely a growl that was even real at some point, an Alpha growl and not his usual childish hoarseness. Not that it had any effect on Dean other than pissing him off.
He gritted his teeth and snarled back in a way that always flattened Sammy, but not this time. This time the young Alpha was not intimidated. He straightened up to his full height - and damn, since when was he so tall? - he turned his chest and lifted his chin in a surprisingly impressive Alpha pose. At first glance, Sam was skinny and full of arms and legs, but in reality... Dad made them both practice fighting and exercise regularly, so when he straightened up from his perpetually bent position over his phone or book, he had surprisingly enough muscle for a twelve-year-old boy, albeit an Alpha. And from the looks of it, he could show off his muscles.
"You smell like an old Alpha!" Sam muttered, clearly unhappy and angry. "He marked you. Who is he?
Dean's first thought was strangely not a denial, because hell, yes, he was marked with an Alpha scent, and only someone with no sense of smell would have noticed. He probably smelled like Castiel enough for Beta to know. There was no point in denying it. His first thought was that Alpha Castiel wasn't old! He was older, yeah, but he wasn't really old. His scent was incredible, intoxicating, and unique, unlike anything he had ever smelled. It certainly wasn't filled with mustiness like the smell of all the old Alphas.
"It's none of your business," he snapped, before realizing that denying or lying would be a better idea.
"If he did it against your will... if he touched you... then I..." Sammy mumbled, clenching and releasing his hands.
No, he didn't touch me, he just stuck his tongue down my throat and it was so good that I almost fell to the floor. Yeah, that's right, Sammy, I almost knelt down at the feet of a knotter I barely know, he thought ironically, but he didn't say it out loud.
"So what?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Are you going to throw yourself at the old Alpha who is at least a head taller than you?"
Sam opened his mouth and immediately closed it again, stopping as quickly as he had started. He might have been angry, he definitely smelled angry, but he wasn't stupid. And he wasn't exactly a fighter. That was Dean in their family, no matter what secondary gender they were, and that Sammy was supposed to be the one who didn't go far for the shot. Just like any other young Alpha.
"No, just..." He pursed his lips in displeasure and wrinkled his nose. "If he did it without your consent, then it's a crime, you know? It's not allowed."
Yeah, like they cared that much about what was or wasn't against the law. They made a living by forging cards, pickpocketing, petty fraud, and begging. None of it was exactly legal; in fact, Dean's work at the diner was not properly taxed income with a contract. As for the label... He didn't ask for it, and Alpha didn't ask for his consent, but it wasn't as if he resisted when Castiel rubbed his scent gland against him, or that he didn't mind smelling of sour cherries and almonds.
"I consented," came the half-truth; Sam's expression was one of sheer surprise. "But good." He threw the bag of food on the table and waved his hand. "If you don't mind, I'll take a shower," he added, heading for the bathroom.
"No!" he was stopped by Sammy's scream, with his little brother standing in his way. "If that's what you wanted, it's okay. I don't mind, it's just..." he hesitated and looked down at his shoes for a moment, as he had done when he was much smaller and ashamed of something he had done. Then he picked them up again with a sigh, and his scent was saturated with the softly tainted sweetness of guilt. "Look... um..." With a nervous movement, he poked through his overgrown hair and rolled it back so it wouldn't get in his eyes. "...I'm not used to...you know, you smell like an Alpha other than me or Dad, and feeling someone else on you really pissed me off, I don't even know why. I've been so... pissed off lately, okay?" he sighed again, his back hunched and his head hanging a little, reeking not only of guilt but of shame as well.
"Yeah, you're acting like a really annoying bitch," he agreed mercilessly. No, seriously, sometimes it was like Sammy was being stabbed in the ass, so he was annoying. And two years ago he was such a quiet puppy, sitting in the back seat for twelve hours without making a sound. But the last two years... he still had something against their Alpha. He didn't like where he was going, he didn't like his dad's work, he didn't like the fact that he was drinking a beer while he was driving... And every time he had to say something about it.
"I know!" he shouted irritably, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't want to act like this, but sometimes it's just... like everything is boiling inside of me and my Alpha is just growling and growling and I just can't think straight. I know my instincts are getting stronger because... you know, I'm growing up and stuff... I've read all about it, but reading is not the same as experiencing it." Suddenly he stopped and rubbed his lips irritably. "But you can't understand that because..."
"... because I'm just an Omega?" he finished angrily for him. "Do you think I never have a hundred appetites to just bite someone? Only stupid Knotheads think that Omegas are weak and harmless. Believe me, we're not the damned ones! Try to touch an Omega with her puppy, and you'll see that she'll rip your arm off. And I," he took a threatening step forward so that their chests almost touched, "can still kick your ass with my eyes blindfolded. "
"I want to see you try," Sammy snapped, gritting his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" he snarled and put Dean's hands on his shoulders.
It was just a little harder than their usual bickering, so he barely felt it. He gritted his teeth and gave Samy a shove of his own, strong enough to make him sweat backwards. Sam didn't even hesitate to lunge forward with a growl and push him again. He covered his weak blow and returned it just as softly. It was not so much a fight as it was pushing and shoving. A ball of thin hands, growling and purring, and a mixture of an angry smell with something softer, sweeter, like amusement, because no matter how much they got on each other's nerves, they could never really get angry at each other. And this was nothing more than a bit of posturing and a fake fight for dominance that, as always, ended the only way; Dean lost his patience. He took the first opportunity to kick Sam's feet in one fell swoop, and before the young Alpha could recover, he sat on his back and twisted his hand just enough to hurt him a little and keep him on the ground.
"It's over, puppy!"
"I'm not a puppy! And get off me!" Sam snarled.
He slapped him across the back of the head until his forehead hit the trampled carpet.
"I said; it's over!"
Sammy huffed angrily, but he stopped struggling.
"You're just an idiot..." he muttered, but it didn't sound very aggressive.
"And you're a bitch," he snapped as he let go and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom when I get back, I want to see you eat," he ordered, crossing him and walking to the bathroom door.
He wasn't even halfway there when something soft hit him in the back. He turned abruptly to find that it was Sammy's shirt, which he had taken from the chair and thrown in his back as a makeshift projectile. He frowned and met Sam's gaze, ready to kick his ass, but a worried wrinkle between Alf's eyebrows stopped him.
"I want to know, Dean... are you dating an Alpha?" he asked, more seriously than he probably should have, and grinded his wrists grimly where Dean had held them a moment before.
"Maybe... a little," he answered vaguely. What else could he say? That he knew the psychopathic and murderous Alpha, who belonged to the Russian Mafia, who planned to live with them in a house with a bar fence, because he was obsessed with this nonsense with real mater, but that he did not intend to fuck Dean in the near future, even though, according to the kiss and the excited smell that accompanied it, he obviously did not want anything else. And 'meeting' wasn't exactly the best description of what happened between Dean and Alpha Castiel.
"Is that a male Alpha?"
He didn't answer, just looked back at Sammy.
"Is he treating you well?"
He nodded before he could think.
"Actually, yeah, he is," he admitted aloud; once the basics of their relationship and the kidnappings were over, Castiel was actually behaving surprisingly well, considering how much of an Alpha he seemed to be. He didn't think it would last forever, but for now, it was good.
"Well, that's all I wanted to know," the little Alpha nodded thoughtfully. "But if it's not...!" he sounded threateningly lost.
Dean just rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. You've got it, and you're gonna take care of it," he snorted in clear mockery, before showing Sammy his back with another squint and snapping into the bathroom.
He took off his shirt first and threw it on a pile of the dirtiest things he would have to drag to the nearest laundry room sometime during the week. Then he took off his t-shirt and started to throw it on top of his shirt, but a whiff of roasted cherries and bitter almonds stopped him. When Castiel stuck his nose down his throat, he must have rubbed his shirt, so now it smelled like him.
Dean pressed the small area to his nose and breathed in slowly.
The smell was not too strong, but stronger than accidental contact, and although there was a hint of musky excitement in it, it was more soothing than anything else. He enjoyed it with his eyes closed, and though it wasn't the same as resting his head on Alfa's shoulder and inhaling his scent directly, it was close enough that his Omega moved forward silently, and Dean could feel his tense muscles relax.
His last breath was before he pressed the T-shirt to his chest and looked at his reflection in the mirror. The purple bruise on his stomach and the same on his face were still clearly visible, a clear reminder of all the reasons why he should throw the T-shirt into the dirty laundry and try to get rid of everything that had anything to do with Alpha. Stay as far away from him as his situation allowed, but... it was just a T-shirt, right? No one needed to know that he kept it with him - unwashed, smelling of Castiel.
He set it on the sink before taking off the rest of his clothes and climbing into the shower to wash away Alf's scent, just as he had promised Sammy.
The fact that he put a smelly T-shirt under his pillow a little later was not noticed by the little Alpha.
°°0°°
He poured a large portion of chocolate chips into two plastic bowls and, after a short hesitation, took a banana and an apple out of the refrigerator and cut them into one of the bowls. Just as he poured milk into them, the kettle clicked behind his back. He put the bottle on the table, because Sammy sometimes liked to add a drop of milk to his morning tea, and went to pour his instant coffee and Sam's tea. Finally, he set the smoking cups on the table and sat down.
He looked at the surprisingly full table.
Two bowls with a good portion of breakfast, two warm cups, a big glass of nice smelling orange juice at Sammy's and sandwiches with ham, cheese and tomatoes, already packed to take to school. And yes, there were two of each. Because he could afford to waste food on himself, now that he had five hundred dollars in his pocket for nothing, and he didn't even have to pay for a motel room. When it came down to it, he didn't have a single bill to pay that month, except for school lunches. Having so much money at his disposal somehow... upset him. As far back as he could remember, he had to double check every penny, and now he had so much that he didn't know what to do with it.
He could have bought Sammy a new pair of shoes, which he already had, and a jacket, because the one he was wearing now had a whole wrist. And the backpack, the snack box... he paused as he slowly began to realize that he could do much more than such trifles. He could finally buy a new computer for Sam, which he couldn't get through the back door of a van, where he could only hope that a) the seller wasn't actually a dealer in Omegas, and b) the FBI wouldn't break down the doors because the computer originally belonged to some pedophile or terrorist.
And he owed it all to... Alf Castiel.
The earlier enthusiasm left him, replaced by bitterness and a little anger. He hadn't asked him for help, he hadn't asked him for the money he'd finally accepted out of compulsion, and, probably out of stupid pride, he wanted Alpha to know he hadn't asked for any of it.
He reached for his cell phone, opened the conversation they had, and started texting.
Dean: you paid for the room
Dean: I didn't ask for it.
Done. He told him exactly what he wanted and did it rudely enough to make him feel much better. He put the phone down and just managed to drink his warm coffee and put the first spoonful of chips in his mouth when the phone announced the incoming message. Dean froze. He hadn't really thought that Alpha could answer him, and he certainly hadn't thought that he could do it so quickly.
He dragged the phone across the table and opened the call.
Castiel: Hello, Dean. He didn't have to ask. It was a matter of course.
He stared at Castiel's answer, wondering if the Alpha was deliberately blinding them to his willful insolence, or if he really didn't understand what he was trying to tell him. He decided to set the record straight.
Dean: it wasn't thanks.
Castiel: I know. But I probably won't get a sincere thank you from you, so I'll take the dishonest one as a thank you.
He opened his mouth in slight surprise at Alf's words. Yes, none of his thanks were sincere, but... Castiel believed him, didn't he? And if not; was there no correctness in such arrangements, as all parties pretending that it was all voluntary and all thanks genuine?
Suddenly, another message appeared on the screen
Castiel: What are you doing?
He read the message twice before glancing at the bathroom door, behind which he could hear the hum of running water in the sink. Sam was there for a long time, as usual. It would be nice if Dean could say that he was masturbating like every other Alpha his age, but the truth was that he was probably flossing his interdental spaces. Which meant he still had some time to get to the table. And he could use that time to answer the Alpha, because... he probably wouldn't be happy if he didn't, right?
Dean: I'm having breakfast.
Dean: yu?
Castiel: I'm on my way to a business meeting and we got stuck. Probably a car accident.
Dean: don't you only deal at night, Alfa?
Castiel: I wish. It would suit me a lot better. At least the meeting could be in the Blue Sky.
Castiel: What are you having for breakfast?
Asking someone you barely knew what they were having for breakfast was a little odd, but if you think about it, Alpha might as well ask what kind of underwear they're wearing. He didn't mind questions about food.
He pushed his cup of coffee to a bowl of chips and instead of describing what he had, he took a picture... And then he sent it to Alf.
Dean: blue sky?
Castiel: Black coffee? I wouldn't expect you to drink that.
Castiel: My club.
He rolled his eyes. What was that? Something about how young people shouldn't even drink coffee because it has caffeine and that's bad for you?
Dean: you gave me a beer, coffee is fine.
Dean: dance? sex?
He sent the second message with a cozy smile while biting the inside of his lips. Mentioning sex in front of Alpha was like talking about your nice ass; definitely not safe, but certainly fun. He vividly imagined Alpha having the same look on his face as yesterday when he mentioned his possibly shrunken balls.
Castiel: I also like black coffee when I wake up.
Castiel: The beer surprised me. I thought Omega liked sweets.
Castiel: It's a private club for Alphas.
Dean: sexist shit.
Dean: I love pie, but who doesn't love pie?
Dean: I don't like colorful things.
Dean: nor soft
Dean: I don't need comfort
Dean: and safety
Dean: I like danger
Dean: like a fast ride
He hesitated with his fingers over the keyboard. He shouldn't have written it. In fact, he was so aware of it that he could stop for a moment, but then he found himself continuing to write.
Dean: and the mysterious alphas
The few seconds before the message was sent seemed like an eternity to him, and strangely enough he did not make the desperate attempt of fools to press the keys at random in a foolish attempt to stop the message. And it wasn't because he knew he couldn't. Something in him just wanted to provoke the Alpha in a slightly different way than he had done with the knots in the bars or at the gas stations who were full of bullshit. He couldn't help it. His omega was literally shaking in anticipation of an answer.
Castiel: I don't think you're an ordinary Omega.
It was a tame answer that surprised and confused him. And when he looked at the next report, his confusion deepened.
Castiel: But I don't have much experience with Omegas. You're the first Omega I want to spend time with of my own free will.
Alpha often spoke strangely, perhaps because English was not his first language, but this was not just strange. It must have been a lie. Alpha, like Castiel, must have had the entire line of eager Omegos of both sexes behind his perfect ass. Which Omeg... must have had a lot of women, regardless of secondary gender, and certainly a lot of men.
Dean just didn't want to believe this "little Omega experience" bullshit. The only reason Alpha said that was to make Dean think he was special. A trick as old as mankind itself. Hell, he even used it a few times.
How could he forget, even for a moment, what game Alpha was playing?
Dean: bullshit.
Dean: I bet you got a lot of omeg around
Dean: and women
Castiel: Regardless of subgender, I'm not attracted to women, and I never wanted a male Omega until I met you.
Oh, right. I'll take that, he thought with a grin. How naive was he, according to Alf? The claim that an Alpha wouldn't care about an Omega was about as believable as the claim that someone would remain a virgin for the rest of his life. Omega was just something the Knothead couldn't resist. He was sure of it. For example, he himself... did not even have the ideal form for Omega, and yet it was enough to just roll your eyes, talk quietly, act naïve, and let your pheromones do the rest of the work, and voila! It worked like magic.
"It's him?"
"Fuck!" he yelled, almost dropping his phone. "Damn it, Sammy, you can't sneak up on a man like that!"
"It's Sam..." the little Alpha muttered and sat down to his breakfast; the fumbling textbook in his hands landed on the table. "Did you text him?" he asked almost casually, only a hint of bitterness spoiling it a bit, and opened the textbook in the place where he had put the bookmark with the Batman symbol.
" Yeah..." he replied succinctly, putting the phone down in favor of his own breakfast.
“Will you introduce him to me?”
He froze.
His first, instinctive reaction was that this was no fucking coincidence. That's when Castiel made it clear in the dump. Sammy didn't know Alf's face or the faces of his men, so he was safe, so Dean would make sure he never saw them. After all, this wasn't forever, their Alpha would come back one day and then somehow get out of town, even though Alpha Castiel thought he had New York to run. Dad was much more resourceful than anyone knew.
"He's not from the school." That was the first reason he thought about not introducing Sammy to "his" Alpha.
"I figured it out, jerk." Sammy rolled his eyes. "I could tell by his scent that he was older than our classmates. And I'm okay with that, if you're okay with it. You can introduce him to me," he added firmly, it was hard to tell if he was trying to convince himself or Dean.
"We'll see..." he mumbled vaguely around the spoonful of chips he had just put in his mouth.
"Can you at least tell me his name?"
He took his time chewing a few soaked pieces of chocolate-tasting corn, wondering what the hell to tell Sammy. The little Alpha was an incredibly rude little prick, and if he didn't get anything, he might think of doing something stupid. Like going through Dean's things, hacking into his phone, or even following him to another meeting.
"Cas... His name was Cas," he finally answered; not much was said and it was close enough to the truth that he could not be mistaken the next time he spoke of Alfa.
"Cas? What a name...? Cas...?"
"Just Cas and done. Don't bother with it anymore and eat." He tapped his spoon vigorously on the side of Sammy's bowl.
"Fine," Sam snorted, but he obediently scooped up a spoonful of chips and drew a little textbook at the same time. He glanced at Dean one last time before, as he did every morning, he plunged into practicing the day's lesson plan while shoving food into his mouth. He had mastered this double combination to perfection.
He followed him for a while, sipping coffee and swallowing his own breakfast. The silence had become a bit oppressive. He pulls out his headphones, puts them in his phone, and plays an AC/DC album. He wanted to put the phone in his pocket, but when the first notes of Highway to Hell sounded, he hesitated. He probably shouldn't leave the conversation with Alpha open like that.
He opened the call.
Dean: I got to go to school.
Castiel: Okay.
He frowned a little. That was a very short answer to how 'serious' Alpha had tried to get before. He was expecting... something. Maybe he wanted to elaborate a bit more and try to make Dean feel special, but it really sounded like the first and only remark was just a... remark.
It wasn't the first time the Alpha had surprised and confused him with his behavior. Perhaps he could try to learn more about him. Know and understand his opponent. The problem was that he didn't have much to go on. What did he know about Alpha? His name, if that was his real name, and now he knew about the club.
He opened Google and typed in the name of the club and Alpha's full name and, surprisingly, got a lot of results. He clicked on the first link.
Despite the large "Blue Sky" lettering - accompanied by the small "private club for Alphas" lettering - in a simple decorative font, the entire page was in various shades of dark orange and black. Besides a photo, the dominant page, showing a large Luxfer bar and several orange upholstered seats at black low tables, there was only a simple top menu with the usual buttons like About Us, Drinks, Events, Galleries and Contacts. He tried them all and it always threw him on the page with the need to log in, except for Contacts. There he learned the opening hours; every day from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m., the address, the phone number to the office, and the name of the company that owned and operated the club. That's how he knew it had to be Alpha's club, because the name was written in Russian.
He frowned. He would have found out a lot more if he had registered, but... he scrolled up and down the page, tried to click sideways, refreshed the page several times, and nothing. No one was allowed to register.
"You better hurry up with breakfast or we're not going to make the bus," Sammy yelled, loud enough for his words to be heard over the music, which Dean only half heard anyway.
He picked up the receiver.
"What?"
"I said eat fast, we have to get on the bus."
He looked down at his nearly full bowl. Crap. So he had been so busy looking for information about Alpha that he hadn't even eaten. Oh yes, now was not the time. Still... he wanted to know more about Castiel, and his club was the place to start.
"Hey, if a website has a registered section, can you get there without a password?"
"It depends..." Sam shrugged. "I can't get into the bank, but I can get into the teachers' section of the school's shared network without a problem. Why? Do you need to get somewhere?"
"I want to get here," he showed Sammy his phone. "Find out more about the company that owns the club. Can you do that?"
"Blue Sky," he read out loud. "What is it?"
"The club...for Alphas only, as far as I know," he gave him an answer that did not seem to satisfy the young Alpha. "I don't know exactly what it is. I just heard about it and wanted to check it out, but literally everything is after the password and nowhere to sign up."
"Okay," Sam nodded. "At first glance, it looks like the pages of any bar, but if they have everything under a password, maybe they have good security. Send me a link." He stood up and picked up the book. "I'll take my notebook to the school library and check it out this afternoon."
He quickly escorted Sammy to his bag before sending him a message, then sighed at the sight of time.
They have to hurry to catch the bus.
Chapter 10
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As usual, he didn't bother to bring appropriate clothes for gym class, assuming that the coach would make him sit on the bench like he had at almost every school he'd ever attended. Sure, there were jerseys for sale at school, and everyone had them, but... he didn't pay for his own lunch, so when the coach asked him why he didn't buy a jersey, he just said he couldn't afford one. He thought that was the end of it. Coaches usually didn't want to put someone down because they were poor.
Coach Smith - a fifty-something Beta with big arm muscles but pretty skinny legs - had come up with a sort of social program that included free uniforms for kids from disadvantaged families; new ones, always carefully sealed in plastic bags. There was even a bottle of deodorant that he was required to use. They were of surprisingly good quality, and when he applied them to his shoulders and neck, his smell almost disappeared. He wondered if they would last for the entire gym class or if they would wear off as quickly as the ones in his bag. If they didn't wear off, he would definitely steal them for casual use.
Stripped of his scent and dressed in a white t-shirt and red shorts, Dean found himself in the gym with the rest of his classmates. They were all wearing the same type of jersey, only in different colors. The red was obviously for the Omegas, the blue for the Alphas and the green for the Betas.
He looked around at the usual sorting of Alphas, Betas and Omegas and reluctantly joined the small group of Omega girls where only Kevin was left next to him. That was why he hated gym class, even though riding a bike or hitting a punching bag was his favorite pastime. He had to be with the Omegas in class, and the Omegas were usually girls or short guys like Kevin. He literally stood out among them, towering over them all by a good two inches. Besides, as he had been told more than once, the P.E. curriculum for Omegas was different from that for Betas or even Alphas, because Omegas were tiny, weak, had more fragile constitutions, and shit like that. As a result, P.E. was boring.
The coach blew the whistle to get them in line.
It turned out that the basic warm-up was the same for all of them, only after that did the coach hand out appropriate exercises by subgender. The Alphas were given strength exercises to show off their big muscles. Marcus, in particular, made no bones about it, strutting around the gym in a tank top that was two sizes too small, revealing not only his muscles but also his scent glands.
The Betas got a slightly easier workout. Lisa sent him a smile and a little wave from the rope she was surprisingly willing to start climbing.
Finally, the Omegas, and Dean with them, were directed to the yoga mats, giant balls, and hula hoops. Whatever the plan was, he was sure that none of it would be real exercise, but on the other hand, it looked like it would be better than a school in Ohio where the Omegas' gym class consisted of meditating in various positions.
"I'll leave this in your capable hands now, Miss Rosen."
"Of course, Coach Smith," Becky replied enthusiastically.
The coach just nodded and, without giving the Omegas a long look, headed straight for the Alphas. He didn't seem to care much about how their class was going, and the only thing he cared about was the athletic performance of his Alpha charges.
"Okay, people, let's get our mats and spread them out at regular and sufficient intervals so that we all have plenty of space," Becky instructed.
He wasn't much into that, so the last mat left for him was an ugly pink one. With a sigh, he carried it over to Kevin and unfolded it next to him. When everyone took off their shoes and sat down on the mat, he did the same.
"Get into a comfortable position."
Damn, meditation after all? He thought with a sigh, but did as Becky said. He got into a comfortable position, lying on his back and looking at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. If nothing else, he could take a nap. He'd slept surprisingly well last night, but an extra half hour never hurt anyone.
"Well done," Becky complimented them in a satisfied tone. "Now, before we begin, let's get in tune with our inner Omega. All right, inhale and exhale slowly. Breathe in and out."
Connect with the inner Omega? Okay. He did, only to find that he was lying on his back, bored, and all he wanted at the moment was a good piece of grub. Yeah, he was right there with that thought.
"Listen to her. Feel her. Do you already know what she's telling you?"
"Sure. She wants caramel corn and a beer," he mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.
Kevin burst into muffled laughter at his side, and he certainly wasn't the only one.
"Dean!" Becky admonished. "It's important to make contact with your Omega before you train."
"I think we've all made that connection. Can we continue?" He asked, at the same time rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look at Becky, who was sitting on her mat in an oddly contorted Turkish position. They exchanged a glance. He raised an eyebrow and held his gaze long enough for the other Omega to look down and agree to what he wanted.
"Okay," she said with reluctance in her voice, but began to move according to his further instructions. "Everyone on your backs..."
He slapped himself back down on the mat.
"...and we'll start with the first pelvic floor exercises."
"Oh, come on!" He exclaimed in frustration. This just wasn't going to happen. "Okay, I'm done. Have fun," he said and started to get up.
A few weeks after his first heat, when they were in the town where they had the Omega clinic, his dad took him to the gynecology clinic to have a doctor look at him and make sure everything was okay. In addition to a very uncomfortable examination, which their Alpha thankfully never made him do again, he was given a pamphlet about what it was like to be an Omega, including a list of recommended reading. He remembered them sitting in the car together afterwards, and his dad saying with a sigh how much he wished their mom was alive, because she would be the one to go through this with Dean. Then they went to the bookstore and Alpha bought literally every book on the list that the store had. One of them was a book of exercises suitable for teenage Omegas, which had a whole huge chapter devoted to exercises that were supposed to strengthen the pelvic floor and circulate the uterus, thus relieving cramps during humping and increasing fertility.
In fact, for almost two weeks, he actually tried to practice according to that stupid book because Dad had bought it, and that meant it must have made some sense. It didn't matter how embarrassed he was or that he had to hide every time. Eventually his dad caught him anyway, and when he explained what he was doing, Alpha actually flipped through the books he'd bought for the first time, only to call them all bullshit. And then they grilled dinner on that pile of books. One of Dean's fondest memories.
"You can't leave. It's mandatory. If you leave, I'll have to report you to the coach," Becky told him emphatically, which had little effect since she was lying on the floor.
"Fine." He waved his hands. "I don't mind staying after school. I'll definitely enjoy it more than this." He nodded his head in the direction of his classmates.
"None of us enjoy it," Becky told him as she sat down, "but it's beneficial. We all want healthy puppies here."
"I thought you wanted to be the third Omega in history to win the Pulitzer Prize?"
"That doesn't mean I don't want kids. We all want them here."
"Speak for yourself," Kevin murmured from somewhere at the level of Dean's knees, so low that only Dean could hear him.
"Yeah... I'm not so much," he said, though it wasn't entirely true or false. He hadn't thought about kids yet, Sammy was enough for him. "And even if I ever wanted them and had them, I assure you, Becky, I wouldn't be the one to give them up."
Omega opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped in mid-word and frowned thoughtfully. It took a moment for the meaning of Dean's words to sink in before she closed her mouth and pursed her lips.
"It'll help with the cramps."
"I know a much funnier cure for that," he grinned, arching his eyebrows suggestively.
He'd never really spent time heating with anyone, nor had he thought to ask anyone. Who else? The waitress Suzzi had made out with in the bathroom of the diner where she worked? Or the motel manager's daughter, who called herself Bubble, had grown her pink highlights and dragged him into one of the empty rooms?
Well, certainly not the pimply teenage Alpha from the last gas station who literally smelled ice cream on his overalls as he nearly broke down trying to open the door.
"Like I didn't tell you about him right away," Molly snorted; one of the Omega girls, pretty with big lips, skin the color of light chocolate, soft hips that Dean would love to dig his fingers into, and the smell of blackberries and caramel. Her comment belonged to the two friends sitting by her side, but it was said loud enough for everyone to hear.
"What did you say, sweetie?" He asked, giving her one of his smiles.
"Some of us, myself included, believe that an Omega should remain chaste until mating with Alpha," Molly replied with complete sovereignty, even a little condescension, as if her decision not to fuck until marriage was a sign of moral superiority. "But I'm sure that means nothing to you."
"Then you're right. I missed that train a long time ago," he replied as confidently as she had, before turning to Becky and jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "If you decide to sue me, you can tell Coach I'm sitting under the bleachers."
With that, he turned on his heel and, leaving the other Omegas to their fate, made his way to hide under the bleachers, where he could watch the action in the arena from between the seats and not be seen. He didn't really expect the coach to be looking for him, considering how little the Omega part of his class interested him, but he didn't need to be right out in the open either.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. They weren't allowed to have it with them, so it wouldn't get broken, but since he didn't expect to do any sports anyway, he didn't see any reason to leave it in his locker. He bored himself for a while on the internet, especially on Facebook, regretting that he'd forgotten to take his headphones out of his pocket, and then he tried to send a text message to Sammy.
He clicked off the message, stared at the chat window for a moment, waiting to see if he'd get a reply, when he realized that Sam had been talking about some history test on the way to school this morning. When did he have a history test? Hell, Dean should know, he'd seen his schedule, but he couldn't remember. Sam was old enough and capable enough to keep track of his own school books.
With a frustrated sigh, he leaned back against the iron structure. He couldn't play music or videos or a game without headphones, unless he wanted to draw too much attention to himself. So he was doomed to sit there and stare at the peeling plaster and the dust that slowly slid along the walls. Unless... Inwardly, he hesitated at the thought, but his fingers beat him to it and opened a conversation with Alpha.
Dean: today sucks, I should have let it go
He formulated his frustration into a short message, which he sent to Alpha after a little hesitation and... surprisingly, he felt relieved. Damn, it was good to be able to complain to someone, even if the murderous Russian Alpha was on the other end of the line.
He glanced between the stands at the other Omegas currently balancing on balls and grinned in disgust. His grin quickly turned to a smile as his phone vibrated in his hand.
°°0°°
He leaned back against the bar, closed his eyes with a sigh, and began to massage his temple with two fingers. A dull pain throbbed behind his eyes, resting on the inside of his forehead, and his Alpha growled softly in deep, all-encompassing displeasure.
If you had asked the average law-abiding man if he could commit murder, clean up the evidence, and live with the risk of being discovered and imprisoned for the rest of his life, he would surely have answered that he could not handle that kind of stress. If you had asked Castiel the same question, he would have replied that being on the board of directors of one of the companies legally owned by the Bratva was a hundred times more stressful than seeing all the potential life sentences that awaited him.
"Gin and tonic," he demanded of Balthazar, who approached him from behind. He recognized him by his regular, light stride and especially by the smell of nettles.
"Rough day?" Beta asked, and he could be heard going behind the bar to prepare his drink.
"Yes," he replied simply, finally opening his eyes to look at Balthazar. "I can deal with Italians and Koreans without killing each other, but an Alpha American with a Harvard degree?" He snarled, literally, at the memory of today's meeting and wrapped his fingers around the glass Beta had placed in front of him. "If I had a gun, I'd shoot her and I don't care how many witnesses are around."
"How about a long, hot shower?" Beta suggested, resting his elbows on the bar and leaning in close to Castiel. "I'll keep you company," he offered, running his fingertips up his arm to under the cuff of his shirt. The soft, nettle smell, this time not enhanced by scent enhancers, filled him with a familiar thrill.
He fixed his gaze on Balthazar's exposed neck. He gave it away, tilting his head a little to the side and back at the same time, showing off the curve of his neck and the muscles in his shoulders. Defiantly, he presented himself for the bite.
He wrapped a hand around his throat, thumb resting on the nub that he ran over a few times, enjoying the quickening pulse that rested in his palm. Slowly, he lowered his hand into the deep cleavage of Balthazar's loose gray t-shirt, running his fingers over the softly toned muscles.
Unless... Inwardly, he hesitated at the thought, but his fingers beat him to it and opened a conversation with Alpha.
Dean: today sucks I should have skipped it
He formulated his frustration into a short message, which he sent to Alpha after a little hesitation and... surprisingly, he felt relieved. Damn, it was good to be able to complain to someone, even if the murderous Russian Alpha was on the other end of the line.
He glanced between the stands at the other Omegas currently balancing on balls and grinned in disgust. His grin quickly turned to a smile as his phone vibrated in his hand.
°°0°°
He leaned back against the bar, closed his eyes with a sigh, and began to massage his temple with two fingers. A dull pain throbbed behind his eyes, resting on the inside of his forehead, and his Alpha growled softly in deep, all-encompassing displeasure.
If you had asked the average law-abiding man if he could commit murder, clean up the evidence, and live with the risk of being discovered and imprisoned for the rest of his life, he would surely have answered that he could not handle that kind of stress. If you had asked Castiel the same question, he would have replied that being on the board of directors of one of the companies legally owned by the Bratva was a hundred times more stressful than seeing all the potential life sentences that awaited him.
"Gin and tonic," he demanded of Balthazar, who approached him from behind. He recognized him by his regular, light stride and especially by the smell of nettles.
"Rough day?" Beta asked, and he could be heard going behind the bar to prepare his drink.
"Yes," he replied simply, finally opening his eyes to look at Balthazar. "I can deal with Italians and Koreans without killing each other, but an Alpha American with a Harvard degree?" He snarled, literally, at the memory of today's meeting and wrapped his fingers around the glass Beta had placed in front of him. "If I had a gun, I'd shoot her and I don't care how many witnesses are around."
"How about a long, hot shower?" Beta suggested, resting his elbows on the bar and leaning in close to Castiel. "I'll keep you company," he offered, running his fingertips up his arm to under the cuff of his shirt. The soft, nettle smell, this time not enhanced by scent enhancers, filled him with a familiar thrill.
He fixed his gaze on Balthazar's exposed neck. He gave it away, tilting his head a little to the side and back at the same time, showing off the curve of his neck and the muscles in his shoulders. Defiantly, he presented himself for the bite.
He wrapped a hand around his throat, thumb resting on the nub that he ran over a few times, enjoying the quickening pulse that rested in his palm. Slowly, he lowered his hand into the deep cleavage of Balthazar's loose gray t-shirt, running his fingers over the softly toned muscles.
He let his fangs slip from his gums, showing them to Beta up close as he pulled her face up to his.
"I allow you much. He is taboo. Don't cross the line. Do you understand?" He warned, his voice hoarse and wetter than ever as his teeth prevented him from articulating properly and his mouth filled with saliva.
"Yes, Alpha," Beta choked out a little hoarsely, the scent soaked with fear, before closing his eyes in resignation.
Satisfied with his submission, he let go and let the fangs fall back into place.
Beta swallowed loudly several times and ran his hand over his neck, his eyes still fixed on the ground. There was still a hint of fear in his scent, but it began to dissipate, replaced by a bitter string of anger.
"I think I'd better stay out of your way today." Beta declared, and indeed took a step, intending to clear the field.
Castiel grabbed his wrist.
"No. You stay here."
Beta gave him a sideways glance over his shoulder, lips drawn in an irritated line, but he didn't try to pull away and walk away. He took a small step back so he could more easily free his wrist from Castiel's grip, then said:
"Whatever you say...boss." The last word dripped with sarcasm, bordering on mockery.
He blinked, irritated by Beta's relentless efforts to annoy him again, when a beep came from the door.
"Go open." He nodded his head in the direction of the entrance.
"As you wish," Balthazar didn't forgive himself for being snarky this time either, but at least he opened the door without further ado.
He took a deep and almost final drink, then leaned back against the bar and turned his attention to the newcomers.
Vladek's men had brought the two girls.
He chose two each time, deciding between them after seeing them with his own eyes and, more importantly, smelling them with his own nose. Vladko was an Alpha, so he could find the Betas with the faintest scent among the girls, but he had trouble understanding the whole concept of Blue Sky - a place where Alphas who wanted to spend time only with Alphas and not be disturbed in any way, especially by scent, by Betas or Omegas, could gather. Thus, on several occasions, he had offered Castiel a girl who was attractive and otherwise satisfactory, but who had an overpowering scent. Even that could be masked with blockers, but over the course of long twelve-hour shifts, even the best blockers began to wear off. They covered the mild, faint smell for much longer, which was why he only wanted Betas with the faintest smell as waitresses.
The older of the two, who had been working for them for some time and had been chosen by Balthazar, went willingly and took a quick look around the place. She even looked directly at Castiel for a moment before lowering her eyes. The younger one, fresh from Russia, didn't cooperate so easily and one of Vladek's men had to grab her elbow and nudge her to stand next to her companion.
Castiel looked them over from head to toe.
The Romanian was first, and it showed. Her skin was milky, contrasting sharply with her thick black hair and dark eyebrows that arched over brown eyes in which he had seen a spark of energetic determination earlier. The other looked like a true Nastenka from the old tales. Round, red cheeks, full lips, light sandy hair, and blue eyes cast down in fear.
He slowly approached the first.
"What's your name?"
"Lia... batyushka," she replied in a firm voice, though she added his last name with some hesitation, as if she wasn't sure she was addressing the right person.
He didn't confirm that he was who she thought he was, but he didn't deny it either, instead turning to the other.
"And you are?"
The other girl looked up at him in alarm, and when their eyes met she froze completely, her expression that of a deer caught in the headlights.
"Ruslana," Lia answered surprisingly from behind her, even leaning a little in her direction. "Her name is Ruslana."
"Good. Let me see your neck."
Without hesitation, Lia threw her hair back, tilted her head to the side, and pulled both the wider strap of her pink tank top and the thinner strap of her bra off her shoulder. It exposed her vulnerable neck, and when he leaned in to take in her scent, she didn't move. She stayed still the entire time he inhaled the faint scent of orange peel, which itself was faint enough that he didn't mind having Lia near him even without the blockers.
"Your turn." He walked over to Ruslana.
Unlike Lia, she didn't seem to be willing or maybe even able to cooperate.
He didn't have the time or inclination for this nonsense, so he motioned for Vladek's men to take care of it. Just as one of them took a step forward to grab Ruslana and tilt her head to the side, Lia spoke up again.
"I'll do it."
He gestured for the man to stop so that Lia could walk over to Ruslana and put her arms around her shoulders.
"Don't worry, little dove. He won't hurt you, he just wants to smell you," Lia said soothingly as she pushed Ruslana's hair back. She ruffled it a few times while stroking the younger girl's back. "Tilt your head this way."
She tilted Ruslana's head to the side, the fingers of one hand tangled in her sandy curls, the other resting on her shoulder. Then she stepped back a little to give Castiel room to sniff.
Ruslana's scent was a little stronger, tinged with fear and reminiscent of roasted sweet potatoes. But like Lia's, it was faint and faint enough to be well concealed.
He was comfortable with the scent of both, so he had to decide based on their skills and appearance.
He walked back to the bar, taking out his cigarettes on the way. He sat down on a barstool, leaned his back against the edge of the bar and lit up. He took a drag and met both Betas' eyes again before slowly blowing out the smoke.
"I need a new waitress. One of you will be lucky to get the job. Have either of you done it?"
"I did," Lia volunteered immediately. "When the place was crowded and I wasn't at the bar or didn't have a customer, my boss sent me out to deliver drinks."
"And you? Did you work anywhere?"
Ruslana gave him a quick, startled look, then glanced at Lia, who nodded at the unspoken question and added encouragingly:
"Speak. Tell him the truth, little dove."
"I... I... I used to work in a perfume shop," she croaked in a weak voice.
It wasn't the same as tending bar, but at least she was working somewhere. She was young enough and, more importantly, pretty enough to decide to try her luck in America as a model instead of getting a real job or going to college. To fulfill her stupid American dream. Well, now she would definitely be known for her beauty and her body, though probably not in the way she had hoped.
"At least something," he remarked, more to himself, brushing off the ashes and then shaking them off. "Now... both of you strip down to your underwear."
As expected, Lia pulled off her tank top in one learned motion, letting it fall to the floor before unbuttoning her pants without hesitation. Ruslana, in turn, took a blind step backwards, her back bumping into one of Vladek's men who, like Castiel, had anticipated that she would not obey and was standing behind her to prevent her from trying to escape.
"Come on, bitch. The boss hasn't got all day for you," he said in a tone that was more impatient than threatening, pushing Ruslana forward again.
She crouched down and ducked her head, her hand raised a little as she tried to shield her head from the blow she expected but never got. There were no cuts or bruises on her face, so none of Vladek's men had to slap her yet, but she probably still knew exactly what was in store for her if she disobeyed. So reluctantly, with trembling hands, she began to undo the buttons of her blouse.
In a moment, they both found themselves almost naked in front of him, wearing only their underwear and shoes. Lia stood still, her arms hanging loosely along her body, having no problem showing off her pale, slender body with her tiny breasts in a black lace bra and her slim hips in mismatched red panties. Ruslana stood hunched at her side, vainly covering her large, soft breasts in the most ordinary white bra with one hand and trying to hug her own wide hips with the other.
"I still like the one on the right better," Balthazar pointed out.
He glanced over his shoulder at Beta, only to find that he was looking at the Romanian's almost naked body with great interest, and as he sniffed the air he could smell Balthazar's excitement for the second time in a short while. He wasn't surprised that he was interested in her, and he would be even less surprised if he took her back, whether Castiel accepted her today or not. He'd known Balthazar long enough to know that Lia was exactly his type; slim, fair-skinned with dark hair and eyes. He had a soft spot for that, regardless of primary or secondary gender. At the same time, he couldn't really be called picky. He fucked anything that had a pulse and ideally a sufficiently inflated bank account to live off of for at least a few weeks.
"Yeah, he's exactly your type," he pointed out. "Give them the uniforms."
In response to his command, Balthazar pulled two sets of uniforms from under the bar and handed each girl a scoop consisting of pants and a simple black jacket and white blouse.
Despite the fair-haired Beta's best efforts to cover herself, it was Lia who was dressed first, remembering to leave enough buttons undone on her blouse to show not only the skin and faint mounds of her breasts, but also the lace of her bra. Ruslana had undone all the buttons, but her blouse was too small, so it stretched uncomfortably on her breasts.
In general, though, they both looked good in their uniforms. A tough decision. Lia had a slightly exotic look that would fit in with the variety of girls he had in Blue Sky. Ruslana, on the other hand, reminded him of home, not only because she was a native Russian, but also because of her looks. Just looking at her photo made him unconsciously think of a small teahouse not far from his Moscow home, where a waitress who looked a lot like her served. A little nostalgia...
The phone on the table vibrated.
At first he wanted to ignore it, but a quick glance at the sender's name made him open the conversation.
Dean: today sucks I should have skipped it
He frowned, a bit confused. Omega's message had nothing to do with what they had talked about this morning or last night, nothing at all. It just seemed like a simple, frustrated sigh, which he wouldn't have cared about if it had come from anyone else, but in Dean's case... His inner Alpha stirred, and Castiel felt a compulsive need to do something that would make his Omega happy. For a brief moment, he even considered going to see Dean, but he was probably still at school at that time, and appearing at the gates of the high school with his men would draw too much attention.
Surely he could do something for Dean from a distance, though.
Castiel: My day has been tiring as well. Is there anything that would make yours better?
Dean: gym teacher could disappear.
He narrowed his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. He was pretty sure Dean wasn't serious, and if he was...
Castiel: That can be arranged.
Dean: I was just kidding.
Dean: don't make him disappear.
Dean: he's fine.
Dean: okay?
Castiel: Don't worry, Dean, I know it was a joke. Your teacher's safe.
Dean: maybe one day I'll change my mind about that joke 😉😄
He had to purse his lips to keep from laughing out loud, but he couldn't stop the deep rumbling in his chest from turning into a growl.
Castiel: Just say the word.
Dean: I'll take your word for it.
Dean: still working?
Castiel: No, my meeting is over, and a little sooner than I expected.
Dean: any deaths? 😆
Castiel: Almost. Luckily, I don't come to board meetings armed.
Dean: like you need a gun...
Dean: you free?
Castiel: Right now? I'm not. I'm hiring a new waitress for Blue Sky. I have to choose between two candidates, and I don't know which one I like better.
Dean: need some help, alpha? I have an eye for a nice ass.
He considered Dean's offer for a moment. He didn't know what Dean's preferences were, although he was sure that he was one of them. The pleasantly sweet scent of longing Omega that he could smell on him in literally all of their encounters was a good indication. On the other hand, it didn't matter if Dean was also attracted to Beta women. He didn't want attractive waitresses in Blue Sky to pander to the guests, but purely as a decorative element, and as they knew, one could appreciate a person's beauty without being sexually attracted to the person in question. He himself could appreciate the appeal of symmetrical proportions, pretty eyes, and thick hair, even if the sight of a naked female body did nothing for him. But he had to admit that his perception of female beauty was limited, and the only other man who had ever participated in the selection of waitresses was Balthazar. A fresh look from someone else might be refreshing, and if it was Dean, so much the better.
He had already started to type a reply to the effect that he should wait for her to send him the photos when another message appeared.
Dean: like yours
Actually, it wasn't the first time he'd heard something like that, though as time went on and his respect for the man grew, such flattery became less frequent. He'd never really attached any real meaning to them, but in Dean's case... a small, satisfied grunt escaped him. His Alpha was literally smoldering with pride, for the species he had chosen clearly returned the interest. He found Castiel attractive. Suitable to father his pups. That one little remark satisfied him deeply, regardless of the fact that he rationally realized it was actually meaningless.
Castiel: Do you think I have a nice ass, Omega?
He sent the message and waited. This time, Dean's response wasn't immediate, but it came eventually.
Dean: I've been watching it
Dean: that time in the store
Dean: without it, we wouldn't know each other.
Dean: 😆
He remembered that evening very well, including the fact that it wasn't Dean's first intoxicating scent, but a warning from his instincts. That distinctive feeling in the hedgehog hairs on the back of his neck, honed to infallibility over the years, warning him that he was being watched. It was only as he tried to pick up the scent of whoever was following him and determine their intent that he smelled the wonderful scent of blossoming apple trees mixed with the pleasantly pungent resin of pine.
Castiel: For the first time in my life, I was happy to turn my back on someone.
The pause that followed was again a little longer than the last.
Dean: romantic
Dean: and a little creepy
Dean: you better send pictures.
Castiel: Of my nice ass?
Dean: waitress !!!!
Dean: don't push it, alpha 😅
Dean: no asses or dicks
Castiel: You're giving me a tough assignment, Dean, but I'll try to be restrained.
Castiel: I'll send you pictures of them.
He swallowed the laughter on his lips along with the last sip of his gin and tonic, looked up from his cell phone, and swept his eyes around the room.
None of the girls dared move. Ruslana's back was bent, her head bowed, her eyes fixed on the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach, while Lia seemed to have been watching Castiel the whole time and only now, when he raised his head, did she lower her gaze. One of Vladek's men leaned against the bar, the other still standing behind the girls, both wearing their learned neutral expressions. It was clear to him that they wanted to do something other than wait for their boss to finish his texts, but they had the presence of mind not to show it. And oddly enough, Balthazar had the sense to keep his mouth shut as well, though Castiel could feel his gaze on the back of his head as he stood and made his way to Lie.
Beta understood immediately, and perhaps a more hidden meaning, that she was being photographed for someone else - someone more important and powerful than Castiel, she might have thought - as she struck a pose with her throat exposed, but at the same time, her gaze, from beneath her closed eyelids, fixed squarely on the lens of her cell phone.
He sent the photo and walked over to Ruslana, who, unlike the other girl, hadn't even raised her head. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up so he could see her face. She was pale and her eyes were moist and red from the previous crying, which had also painted red circles on her lower eyelids. She didn't look her best, but a little smile might help.
"You should smile, little dove," he used the nickname the other Beta had given her, lifting her head a little more. "Whether I like you depends on whether you stay here or go back to where you came from. And I don't mean our dear Mother Russia."
Beta seemed to understand what he meant, for she at least tried to smile. Small and a little cramped, but it improved her face enough that he could send her picture to Dean and not have to answer questions about why the applicant for the waitress job at his club looked like she was about to face a firing squad. Not that he would have any problem telling Omege outright that Ruslana was one of his girls and that she had been brought to America to make money for him in a brothel or a shuffleboard joint somewhere. But casual communication could be monitored, so as long as he and Dean used it, he wasn't going to talk business, and as his lawyer had advised, he was going to avoid anything... explicit. Probably even discussing pictures of his ass was beyond what puritanical Americans would consider appropriate, but as long as no such photo was found on Dean's cell phone or in the records of their conversations, there was no evidence of anything inappropriate.
He sent a second photo and returned to the barstool to sit down while he waited for a reply. He also glanced at Balthazar and raised his glass, indicating that he wanted another gin and tonic.
Dean: 😲.
Dean: wow... you really sent the photos.
He tilted his head slightly in confusion.
Castiel: I told you I would. Why are you surprised?
Dean: I don't know.
Dean: okay
Dean: should I pick one?
Castiel: Yes.
The delay that followed was expected. He imagined clicking from one photo to another and back again.
Dean: the first one has nice legs
Dean: the second one has nice boobs
Dean: keep them both 😄😄
He took a sip of the new drink Balthazar handed him and furrowed his brow. Keeping both was an option, and a pretty good one at that. Especially Friday and Saturday nights had been very hectic lately. While the guests who came to Blue Sky usually didn't have to work to make a living, they often liked to pretend that they were terribly busy Monday through Friday and needed to relax on Friday and Saturday nights.
He decided to keep both. Surely the apartment he was putting the girls up in was big enough to accommodate seven instead of six.
Castiel: Good idea. I'll take them both. Thanks, Dean.
Dean: great.
Dean: basketball
Dean: I gotta go.
He raised an eyebrow. If he understood Dean's one-word mention of basketball correctly, he had just been moved to the sidelines for the game. It was a little... irritating, but it was also amusing. And maybe it was impressive in a way, because he literally had fewer people around him who would dare to do such a thing than there were fingers on one hand.
He took a drink and pocketed his phone before turning to the would-be waitresses.
"Today is your lucky day. I've decided to take both of you," he announced, noticing with interest how Lia gave Ruslana a quick and not very friendly glance. Up to that point, she had seemed to have befriended the young Russian, but this look... It was more like the look of someone who would pander to an opponent just to win and then find out that no one won. Interesting. "Let me tell you what is expected of you. I expect my waitresses to not only take and deliver orders, but more importantly, not be seen, heard, or smelled. That's why all my employees wear strong odor blockers during their shift, regardless of the fact that they are Betas. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Lia replied aloud, while Ruslane just nodded shyly and licked his lips.
"The girls live together in a very nice and comfortable apartment. If they do their jobs well and don't cause any trouble, they get one weekend off a month, and the really good ones get to go out and have some fun."
"We usually go out for a drink, get our hair or nails done, and do some shopping," Balthazar echoed from behind the bar.
"'That's Balthazar," he nodded his head at Beta. "There's like... a manager. He understands the vision I have for this place. Anything you need, you can talk to him. All right, or do you have any questions?"
"I have a question," Lia replied in a polite tone.
He turned to her and motioned for her to continue with a small gesture of his fingers. Ignorance induced fear. Fear could be useful to control, but it had to be used with reason. It always worked well for him to make sure the girls had at least a basic understanding of what was expected of them and what was going to happen. Disobedience out of ignorance, and thus completely unnecessary damage to the merchandise, could be avoided. It was a fact that the most important part of even the last and cheapest hooker was her face.
"Where should we take the guests for a private party?"
Black Velvet, where Lia had come from, was a strip club where the lounges were for private dancing as well as sex. Castiel had only been there once, back when he'd taken over Medvedev's territory, and he'd decided he wanted to see every place he owned now at least once. The Black Velvet, in particular, was really one of the more upscale places where sex wasn't the main thing. Most of the clientele was satisfied with stripping and lap dancing.
"At Blue Sky, you're not expected to have sex with the customers. You're mainly here as waitresses. But..." he ran his fingers over his wet glass several times, "if, on the rare occasion, a customer approaches you with such a request, it depends on what they want. You can get a blow job or a hand job anywhere, and then declare it as a 'special request' at the bar, which will be added to the bill. If you get something in cash, leave it at the bar like any other tip. If a customer wants something more... you tell Balthazar and he'll take care of it.
"Usually they go to the hotel, sometimes to the customers' homes," Balthazar said, leaning his back against the bar very close to Castiel. "I'll either take you there or send one of our boys with you. And you'll be given a phone so you can call us if you need to. None of us want anything to happen to you."
Despite Beta's comforting words and kind tone, a sob forced its way out of Ruslana's throat, choked by the hand she put over her mouth, followed by the unpleasant smell of fear and desperation that wafted out with enough force to be picked up at the bar. Of course, it wasn't as strong as if there was an Alpha or Omega or Beta in her place with a much stronger scent, but it still made him wrinkle his nose.
"Please... please, I want to go home... let me go home," Ruslana whimpered, and as she had managed to get by in passable English so far, she now slipped into her native Russian, her hand shooting up to her neck in a familiar gesture; she was looking for a cross, but it wasn't on her neck. She raised her tearful eyes to his. "Please... I won't tell anyone, just let me go... I can't do this... I don't want to...don't make me!"
She took a step toward Castiel and raised her hand as if to grab him, which was obviously a bad decision.
"Stop whining, bitch!" Growled one of Vladek's men, the one at the bar, and before he could warn him not to ruin Ruslana's face, he swung and slapped her so hard that she hit the floor with a dull thud.
Her whimpering had stopped, as had her pitiful pleas, but the silent weeping that shook her shoulders had not stopped, and her unhappy scent filled the air.
The other Beta looked down at her without a flicker of emotion, a direct contradiction to her previously sweet demeanor.
"Go calm her down. She's starting to stink," he urged Liu, watching with interest as she obeyed, kneeling down to wrap her arms around Ruslana's shoulders and pull her head to her chest. While one hand ran gently through her hair, the other ran in soothing circles down her back, and it was obvious that she was leaning forward to whisper something into the Russian's ear that made the other Beta stiffen and nod dully.
"What did you say to her?" He asked, leaning forward a little, interested.
Lia looked up at him.
"I told her that God would forgive her if she slept with someone, even if she promised to keep her chastity until marriage."
At that moment, Ruslana abruptly pulled away from Lia's embrace and looked at her, shock written on her flushed face and betrayal glittering in her eyes. The two of them had spent only a short time here together, but apparently it had been long enough for Lia to gain the other Beta's affection and trust and to coax her secret out of her. And something that was quite a lucrative opportunity. There were still men, especially Alphas, but not only those who had a penchant for being first. To conquer territory, so to speak. Personally, he had never found it particularly appealing, but... His thoughts turned to Dean and he suddenly felt an intense sense of excitement at the thought that yes, he could be not only Omega's first Alpha, but also her first lover. The thought made his inner Alpha growl with possessiveness.
Reluctantly, he pushed his instincts aside and turned his attention back to the kneeling Beta.
"Is it true? Are you still a virgin?"
"Da," Ruslana replied with a tired, resigned sigh.
"I have twenty centimeters of medicine for that," one of Vladek's men chuckled.
He flicked an annoyed eye in his direction, while Ruslana looked back at him in dismay before turning to Castiel, whose eyes, peering down from a pale, red-spotted face, seemed to be seeking salvation.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to leave you in the hands of a durak who doesn't even know what five centimeters looks like," he said in response to Beta's stupid remark, drawing a double chuckle from both Balthazar and the other of Vladek's men. "We will find someone who will pay handsomely for the honor of being first. Until then, you need not worry about being touched," he assured her as he rose from the barstool. "Now the only thing left to do is the last thing... choose your names." He glanced at Lia, and although he had the initial urge to give her a name that suited her budding viper nature, he decided to go with the one he already had name tags for. "You'll be Crystal from now on, and you... we'll have to come up with a whole new name for you..." He frowned thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly to the side at the sight of the now silent Russian Beta. "Astria. That's a version of the name Astraea, which was the Greek goddess of virginity. I think it suits you perfectly. Have a name tag made for her," he instructed Balthazar before reaching for his drink and turning it over in one gulp.
"I'll take care of it."
He nodded slightly in acknowledgement of his answer, giving Balthazar only a quick glance before heading for the exit.
It was time to make up for today's lack of sleep.
°°0°°
He slapped the ice pack on his elbow, hissing in pain but smiling at the same time. His arm hurt like hell, but Forest's pissed off expression was worth any pain. It was just great to see him sitting on his ass under the basketball hoop, his face contorted with rage and humiliation at being totally crushed by a small, weak Omega. And honestly, it was worth the look of disbelief on Coach's face.
He sat down at the table where a pizza was waiting for him. He picked up a slice and took a hungry bite.
Sam glanced at it.
"Is that from gym class?" He asked; Dean just hummed in agreement over the bite he was chewing. "You know, they talk about what you did in my class too."
He raised his eyebrows a little mockingly.
"Really? And what did I do? Played a few points at the basket... nothing more."
"Yeah, but you also made fun of Alpha Marcus and then kissed his girlfriend. At least that's what I heard."
"She kissed me and it was just on the cheek. And she hasn't been with him for God knows how long," he argued icily, but the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. Yes, it was also great to hear Marcus' angry growl when Lisa hugged him in a rush of excitement and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He enjoyed pulling her warm, soft, spring grass-scented body into his arms and watching the Alpha choke on his own saliva, struggling to keep his fangs from showing in front of a trainer who certainly wouldn't have praised him for such behavior.
Suddenly, a strange feeling of unease washed over him. Sure, it was still funny to remember Alpha's angry expression, but he couldn't help it, a certain name flashed through his mind and suddenly the thought of Lisa in his arms wasn't so pleasant anymore. Yeah, she was really beautiful, just...
"What about that club whose website I showed you this morning?" He asked, trying not to think about the strange feelings.
"Right... wait a minute." He put down his pizza, wiped his greasy fingers on his pants, and pulled his computer over with one hand while pushing his plate away with the other. "You had it pretty secure. Remember the last time I hacked into the police station's network? How Dad needed some information? Well, this was a little easier." He switched to the familiar orange and black Blue Sky site and rotated the screen so Dean could get a good look at it. "Now he can go through it as if you were a registered user."
He took another bite of pizza, then tapped on the first menu item. There was supposed to be information about the club, and there was, but it wasn't anything groundbreaking. Just the usual bullshit about pleasant surroundings, high standards, centuries-old European values and absolute discretion. Just blah, blah, blah. The only interesting thing was Alpha's photo, which ended the whole advertisement. He was sitting in the middle of a huge orange velvet sofa. He was wearing a white shirt with one button undone at the neck and very, very tight black pants and polished leather boots.
His hands were spread out on the back of the sofa, a glass of bourbon or whiskey in his right hand, and his legs were spread just enough so that no one could see his crotch. The quintessential Alpha, with everything from the proof that he had a real Alpha cock, to a casual pose that said he was all over the place, to the possessive look of blue eyes peering out from under lazily lidded eyelids. If Dean didn't know him and didn't know that he looked and acted like that in real life, he'd think it was the good work of some marketing department. Even so...
He zoomed in on Castiel's photo, just to get a closer look at that attractive bulge in his pants. It wasn't exactly like he was looking at Alpha's crotch, because, man, you don't want an Alpha like Castiel to know you're looking at his stuff, but then again...
He could feel Sammy's gaze boring into his temple with its intensity, so he glanced back at him out of the corner of his eye before quickly dropping the photo and, while stuffing the rest of the pizza into his mouth, clicking on the next item on the top menu. He quickly scanned the drinks menu. He didn't recognize most of the names, the prices made his head spin, and the ingredients sometimes made his stomach turn; who puts oysters or gold in a cocktail? Disgusting. There was nothing to see in the events, and the photo gallery had more pictures of the interior - mostly more orange sofas and chairs and black tables - but also of guests enjoying themselves. Specifically, well-dressed Alphas of both sexes, though of course there were far more men than women in the photos. And oddly enough, there seemed to be no Betas or Omegas, at least as far as he could tell from the typical Alpha posture of all the guests in the photos.
"Your Alpha... he wants to take you to this club?" Sammy surprised him with the question.
"What? No, nothing like that." He shook his head. "I just heard about it..."
"If he wants to take you there, you can't go, understand?" the little Alpha said seriously, with the slightest hint of a growl deep in his chest, as if he hadn't even listened to what Dean had just told him. "Those places aren't safe for Omegas. I even read about them on the American Omegas Rights Association website. Clubs like that... Alphas take young Omegas there and then borrow them from each other to... you know, have sex with them," he said the last word with a small blush and Dean caught a whiff of a scent laced with discomfort and shame, but continued anyway, "They also give Omegas there drugs to make them more compliant and even ones to make them heat up. And sometimes they even have Omega auctions. I don't want you going there ever."
"Relax, Sammy. I'm not going there, okay?" He said reassuringly, ruffling the little Alpha's hair, which he strangely allowed this time. "Besides, it doesn't look like there's anything like that going on. I mean, those pictures look normal..." he pointed to the photos of the fairly normal looking Alphas just sitting at the bar - the women in pretty, mostly sinfully short dresses and the guys in expensive jackets and mostly casually unbuttoned shirts - chatting over glasses of those oddly named cocktails. None of the things Sam had mentioned seemed to be going on.
"Do you think they'd put pictures of enslaved Omegas on their official website?" Sammy asked sharply, his scent thick with anger.
His first instinct was to object, simply because his Omega had the urge to protect Alpha Castiel, and Blue Sky was his club. Besides, the Alpha had been pretty decent to him all along, especially considering what he had expected of him in the beginning, so it seemed unlikely that he would trade with the Omegas. But looking at it rationally, he had to admit that Sam was probably right. The Alpha was certainly not a tax payer, and even if he didn't know exactly what kind of... business he was in, he could guess. Selling guns and drugs, that was a given, and he was probably into prostitution, too, because what mobster wasn't? And that included human trafficking, and Omegas in particular. But at the same time... could an Alpha who could be so archly respectful as to hold his chair enslave Omegas? Yeah, he probably could. It was usually healthy to expect only the worst from Alphas, with a few honorable exceptions like Bobby, Dad, and Sam. And from an Alpha like Castiel, even more so.
He grinned inwardly. Just today he'd helped Alpha choose the waitresses. Did they know what was going on in the club? Were they there? Had they delivered drinks during the orgy with the stoned Omegas? Did Alpha plan to take him there one day when he'd had enough of his ass? No, no, no. He said he had and always would have a choice, so he always had the option to take the other side. Not to be the Omega who gets invited to such a club for a bit of 'fun', but to be the Omega who runs such a club. Only... he wasn't sure if he could do something like that.
"You okay?" Sammy asked, and when Dean turned to him with a confused expression, he wrinkled his nose and sucked in air. "You smell of fear."
"I don't like what's going on in that club, just like everyone else," he replied with a partial truth before adding seriously: "What did you find out about the company that runs the club?"
"It's owned by a Russian."
"Don't tell me. And how did you find that out? Russian writing?" He grinned back.
"It's called Azbuka," Sammy informed him with the typical importance with which he conveyed completely unimportant facts that he just liked and wanted to share.
"Smart-ass," he snapped back with a grin, but also enough amusement to rub off on his scent.
"Lazy dumbass," the Alpha snarled back, also amused, only to click through an official-looking page on his computer. "It's a small company that runs a place called Garden in addition to Blue Sky. I think it's a gay and lesbian strip club because only men are allowed in Monday through Thursday and only women the rest of the week."
"Okay. And who owns the company?"
"Ivan Kon-stan-tineovich Nova-ak," he pronounced a little croakily, his finger pressed to the screen where the full name was written, including those strange European lines and hooks around the letters. Well, at least it was written in a normal font and therefore legible enough for Dean, who didn't have the voluntary experience with foreign language books like Sammy. Besides, he understood enough to know that the Alpha had lied to him from the beginning. Hell, he hadn't even told him his real name.
He probably shouldn't have been surprised, after all, Alpha Castiel was a criminal, so it was clear that he would protect his identity and not tell his name to some poor Omega who saw him breaking someone's neck. But it still pissed him off. No, not pissed off, sorry. His Omega was quietly whining something about how he should do something to make the Alpha trust him more, because after all, the Alpha's trust was the most important thing. How could he live in Alpha's territory, in what must have been a beautiful and luxurious lair, and build a nest for himself and his puppies, if he didn't have Alpha's absolute trust? It simply wasn't possible. And somewhere deep in his primitive brain, he wanted a contented life with a strong Alpha like Castiel. And for that, he honestly hated his Omega instincts.
They brought him nothing but stupid disappointments. Just absolutely perfect cases where his instincts were more for spite than for good.
"And about him? Have you learned anything about this... Novak?" He asked, suspecting that once Sam got his hands on the research, he wouldn't stop until he'd dug up everything he could from the depths of the Internet.
"A native of Moscow who came here on a visa three years ago. Less than six months later he got his green card. He had to show that he had enough capital and that he intended to do business here for the long term, otherwise he wouldn't have gotten a residence permit. He went on to found Garden and Blue Sky, and sits on eighteen other boards. But I don't think he owns the companies, he manages them for someone else," he said vaguely, frowning slightly. "They're the kind of investment companies that buy and sell everything from other companies to real estate to stocks. I don't really understand..." he admitted, his nose wrinkling in displeasure as it always did when he encountered something he didn't yet understand. "I also found his name on a couple of guest lists for pretty big and important events like the 4th of July celebration at the Deputy Mayor's house or the Police Charity Ball. Next, he's a member of several prominent New York clubs, especially those that bring together wealthy Alpha businessmen. He owns paintings on loan to three galleries here in New York, and is a contributor to various environmental causes, especially those related to bird conservation."
Wow... Alpha was one of New York's elite. Sure, he knew Castiel was rich, so he could afford all that gold, fancy suits, expensive cars, probably a room in a five-star hotel, and maybe an apartment somewhere in Manhattan, but somehow he couldn't picture him among the real snobs. He had a hard to describe but exciting wildness that somehow didn't fit Dean's idea of a rich Alpha who preferred to hide behind his bodyguard and his money.
"If you want my opinion, the investment funds are owned by the Russian Mafia and this Novak guy is going to be a high flyer in it," Sammy surprised him with a statement that came almost out of the blue.
He turned to him in shock and his throat tightened a little. He couldn't possibly know... after all, he had never seen the Alpha and his men had stayed far enough away from the motel that the little Alpha couldn't have noticed them, except for that first night. Or at least he hoped he hadn't noticed them, since he hadn't mentioned anything.
"Why... uh, why do you think that?" He asked carefully, not wanting to give anything away in case Sammy didn't really know and was just fantasizing.
"It's what they do," he replied, just rolling his eyes at Dean's cautiously questioning look, as he always did when Dean didn't understand something perfectly. "You know, serial killers and major criminals are kind of... well, my thing..."
"How could I forget?" he snorted. No, seriously, how could you forget that your little brother has been into not only Batman, Science Olympiads, trashy sci-fi and gay rights and Omegas since he was about ten, but also Jack the Ripper and Dhalmer. Hobbies are a good thing, right?
"Well... I was into the Russian Mafia for a while, so I know a few things about it. For instance," he shook his head and waved his hand vaguely, "it's not like it was even twenty years ago. The really big organizations don't just make money selling drugs and guns or maybe extortion anymore. A lot of their profits come from perfectly legal, often foreign, investments. And their pakhams and authority... they are the high brass in the Bratva... no longer hard-core criminals with criminal records like a novel, but wealthy businessmen and Russian oligarchs. And when such a big and powerful Bratva wants to expand to us, they send some high-ranking member with a good social profile to not only run illegal businesses here, but also to invest in real estate, stocks, various funds and such. When I look at this," he nodded his head at the screen, "it literally screams 'Russian Mafia' to me."
"I think you're wrong," he argued, trying to convince him that he was wrong. "Just because he's Russian doesn't mean he's a mobster."
"I'm not wrong. Look at this," he disagreed, then clicked back to Blue Sky's website to find a picture of Alpha Castiel. He blew it up, as Dean had done before, but of course he focused not on Alpha's bulging crotch, but on the right hand in which he held the glass. "See the stars?" He pointed to the slightly blurred tattoo of stars that sat on Alpha's fingers, keeping company with the wing that wrapped around his middle finger and the words in Russian script tattooed on Alpha's broad knuckles. "The mark of a high-ranking batch, at least to the Authority. I'm not sure it's Novak, though I'd say it is. What I can tell you with absolute certainty about this guy," he nodded at the screen, "is that he's part of the Russian Mafia."
He pursed his lips in displeasure. His brother was too smart for his own good, so it was already clear that he wasn't going to get the idea out of his head that Novak was a Russian mobster, and that Blue Sky, Garden, and the other companies the Alpha owned or managed were just money laundries for the Bratva. He certainly wasn't going to confirm it, though, except maybe... If a puppy not even thirteen years old could tell what was going on, how was it possible that Alphaa Castiel had been hanging out with New York's rich for years and still hadn't caught the attention of the cops or the FBI? It wasn't that he wanted that to happen, on the contrary, the thought gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, it just seemed crazy that no one else had noticed. After all, the Alpha had his Mafia origins written all over his arm.
"Okay, let's say you're right, why don't the police or the FBI do something about it?"
"These guys aren't dummies who bought a gun on a street corner somewhere and are playing gangster. These are gangs that have been around for fifty, sixty years. Some say their roots go back to the days of Czarist Russia, and some of their members come from generations of criminals. They've got a lot of experience in covering their tracks, who to bribe, who to kill and how, if they get in the way and all that... I'd be willing to bet that this Novak," his eyes slid back to the screen, "could walk into the Organized Crime Unit, show them all his Mafia tattoos, and they still wouldn't be able to arrest him because there's no evidence that he's ever done anything. He's just an ordinary businessman and a bird lover."
He knew he should be scared and afraid for Sam's safety, but he also felt a rush of excitement and a desire to get up and run after Alpha Castiel right now. To kneel on the ground and bare his neck... to submit to him, to win him over like that, because he would only meet an Alpha with such power and strength once in his life. And his inner Omega was more and more convinced that he couldn't miss the chance to get a couple of puppies with him.
God... this was so damn stupid.
"Well... it's a good thing I only read about the club on the Internet," he said lightly, just to close the subject and keep Sammy from poking around any further. "We've done some pretty stupid shit, but we really don't want to get involved with the Russian mafia."
He raised his eyebrows and conjured up a cheerful smile to meet the little Alpha's somewhat sullen gaze. "I'm off today and there's ice cream in the freezer. Shall we put on a horror movie or a western?"
Sam gave him another long look before she sighed and shut down the computer.
"Better a horror movie than a western," he said as he got up to go to bed. "I'll find The Evil Dead. The old version. What do you think?"
"Perfect," he agreed, raising his thumb in a sign of enthusiastic agreement, and before he went to get the ice cream out of the freezer, he gave the departing Sam a slightly worried look.
Notes:
I got a great comment on this chapter in which the author called Castiel a Russian pig and raved about how evil he is. I'm sorry she ended up deleting it, because... Castiel is and will be evil.
I've read quite a few Mob!fics from different fandoms and they had one thing in common; the main protagonist, who was in the mob, always had some redeeming qualities. He was better, kinder, more moral than the others. That doesn't happen here. Castiel comes from generations of criminals and knows no other life. He'll sell drugs and guns to kids, women are just commodities, people who get in his way just disappear... and he'll do it all with a smile on his face. He's not a good man who does bad things. He's a bad man who does bad things. But he's in love with Dean, and he'll happily take a star out of the sky... or brutally and mercilessly disembowel someone just because Dean wants him to. :-D
Chapter 11
Notes:
Sorry for the long hiatus, guys, but my mom is seriously ill and has been in the hospital twice in the last month. As you probably understand, there is no writing environment at home.
At least this part is long. :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The funny thing was, the same night he had learned so much about Castiel -- shouldn't he have called him Ivan? - He had wanted to write to him and rub his face in the lie about his name, but he hadn't. Instead, he lay in bed, listening to Sam's breathing, chewing his lip and staring indecisively at the open conversation until a message from Alpha appeared on his screen, asking about his day. Fuck... The guy who owned a club where they drugged, fucked and sold Omegas like Dean had just asked what he'd been doing all day. He should have started cursing and yelling, telling him to fuck off or something, but instead he just let out a long sigh and wrote back that he'd managed to make a small knot properly. Castiel wanted to know more, and Dean told him everything. And so their conversation went on, day after day. He told Alpha how much math bothered him. He amused his with a story from Home Care class, when the professor nearly had a heart attack bragging that his greatest culinary achievement was pasta cooked in a kettle and served with ketchup from the bags that could be picked up for free at any diner. Or he might confide that he got Sam to sign up for a science club. And the Alpha listened to all the whining about school and Dean's life and at least successfully pretended to be interested, not like... No, like their Alpha, who listened but was mostly absent in spirit.
Of course, at certain moments, he realized it was just a game. Alpha Castiel's sick obsession with this True Mates nonsense. But most of the time, he felt good, wanted, cared for, and he liked the feeling, even if he hardly admitted it to himself.
Castiel: Hello, Dean. The weather's nice today. I'll have you picked up and we'll have dinner on the waterfront.
A silly grin lifted his corners at the sight of Alpha's equally silly message. Come on, man, who was he to talk about the weather, to say the least... And yeah, Castiel was definitely old enough to talk about the weather.
"Is that him again?" Sam asked, walking beside him down the school hallway.
He gave his nosy little brother a look.
"Yeah, he's..." It would be a pointless lie, Sam could always tell when he was texting with Castiel, but Dean was sure his scent hadn't changed.
"He's kind of writing early," the little Alpha pointed out, as if maybe he could see a pattern or something in three days of regular writing. Okay, okay... Except for this Tuesday, Alpha wrote early in the morning, before they went to school, and then in the afternoon, not before three o'clock. Now it was a quarter to three.
"What does he want?" Sam asked, stopping at his locker to get his things.
Dean was leaning against a nearby locker.
"He's inviting me to the waterfront," he replied with a shrug, trying to sound disinterested even as his omega purred with excitement at the idea of seeing the alpha again. "I'll tell him I can't because I have to pick you up from Science Club."
Sam gave him a cold look.
"I'm not a kid, Dee. I can walk home from school on my own."
Dean frowned a little.
On the one hand he had the urge to run after Alpha, but on the other hand he didn't like the idea of Sammy traveling through the city alone. New York was fucking huge, and all you had to do was miss one stop and you were screwed. And looking at the subway map, he felt like a rat in a maze. He definitely wouldn't want to travel on it, and he certainly wouldn't let Sam on the subway.
"It's a long way and you have to take the bus..."
Sam cut him off with a low, annoyed growl.
"I can drive. I'm sure I can get on a bus and get off at the right stop." He slung his bag over his shoulder, then slammed and locked his locker. "Feel free to follow him..."
He sized up his brother. Sammy was a smart pup who knew how to take care of himself. He always did. Sometimes he even stayed alone in a hotel for a few days, and he was much younger. It was just stupid Omega instincts mixed with his lingering dislike of big cities that made him hesitate unnecessarily.
"Okay, puppy," he finally agreed, pulling Sam close to him so he could ruffle his hair even as he fought back a growl. "I'll let you go alone, but I'll be on my phone if anything happens. And take this," he added, still holding Sam's neck tightly as he fished out his wallet and some change. "Buy some decent food or order something."
The Alpha hesitated a bit before taking the money, and the look he gave Dean afterward was piercing, as if he wanted to know where he'd gotten so much money without saying a word. Damn. He should have brought less so he wouldn't draw so much attention.
"And watch your step on the way," Sam surprisingly didn't comment on the money, but picked up on something new. "I heard in the bathroom..."
"And did you go to the right one, Samantha? You know, the last time you got caught in the boys' room, you almost got expelled."
At that, Sam lifted the corner of his lip to show his Alpha fang and elbowed Dean lightly in the ribs.
"Dumbass," he snorted. "I'm not going to tell you for that, the Alpha from your year out there wants to find you and 'set you straight as a proper Omega,'" he said with the same smirk in his voice that appeared on Dean's face.
"I'm already shaking with fear."
"You know what I don't know?" Sammy chimed in with an amused glint in his eye. "What that Forest is going to do when we leave here. I get the feeling he's built his entire school reputation on taming the evil Dean."
Leaving... When the little Alpha mentioned it, he realized that he hadn't thought about it in a while, and since he hadn't heard from his father for only the third week - far from the longest he'd known about him - he hadn't really thought about what would happen when their Alpha returned. Sure, his thoughts occasionally wandered there, but far more often they revolved around Castiel and keeping the balance between them. And now... suddenly, when Sam brought up the subject of leaving, he wasn't sure he wanted to leave, and it only partly had to do with worrying about what Alpha Castiel would do if he tried.
"Dean?" Sam addressed him, giving him a little nudge.
"What?" he jerked, meeting the young Alpha's questioning gaze. "Sorry, I've been thinking. I have to go now. Have fun and don't burn anything again."
"That only happened once," Sam muttered, a little irritated but mostly embarrassed.
Dean chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.
He waited a moment longer for the Alpha to join histwo classmates from the science club who were waiting nearby - two little Beta boys who always seemed uncomfortable whenever Dean tried to talk to them - and made his way to the exit. On the way, he just texted back to Alpha that he was counting on the ride because he didn't need to tell anyone else about his afternoon. Lisa disappeared with her friends to the movies. Poor Kevin had violin lessons. And Becky planned to spend a few hours in the newsroom to gather more disgusting reactions to the incident that had been reverberating through the newsroom since that morning. Someone had broken into the German ambassador's house and, in addition to stealing some expensive art and a lot of cash and jewelry from his safe, had raped his Omega wife. It was an international scandal, and it also sparked discussions about Omega's rights, because there were enough misogynistic pigs and knotheads spewing garbage on social media in the sense that it was Omega's own fault and she liked it anyway. Not that Dean cared much about that stuff, but for Becky it was the main topic of the day.
He walked out the front gate and onto the street and looked around, looking for a nondescript Toyota and the not-so-nondescript armed guys who had picked him up the last time. The only familiar faces he saw were Forest and two of his Beta buddies standing on the corner of the school grounds. If Dean wanted to get on the bus and not walk a few blocks, he'd have to walk past them. He knew the situation all too well. They'd let him pass, but they'd follow him until they were out of sight of the school grounds, and then they'd teach him the usual 'lesson' with a few fist bumps and a few lame curses about his Omega status.
Damn scanning gates at the entrance. If he had his knife, all he'd have to do was click it once and he'd keep Alpha like Forest at bay and all he'd get would be a few curses. As it was, all he had was a little bunch of keys on a chain along with his wallet, which, oddly enough, they let him carry to school. They also visited a few towns where even that was forbidden.
He reached down to his waist to undo the chain and prepared to defend himself with it when an arm came around his shoulders.
As he tensed in concentration, he gave in to his instinct and jumped aside with a loud grunt, his fist wrapped in the chain, ready to strike. He stopped almost immediately when he saw the now familiar rat face, grinning into a grin that showed one of Alpha's men's somewhat yellowed teeth.
"Don't bite, printsessa," the rat guy said cheerfully.
He frowned. He could have been wrong, but the word was too similar, and more importantly, it wasn't the first time he'd been called that to dare to object.
"I'm not a princess," he snapped, less sharply than he would have liked, his eyes wandering to Marcus, who, along with his cronies, was giving them his full attention.
Considering that Rat Face was wearing a blue tracksuit with huge Adidas branding (sleeves rolled up, exposing both tattooed forearms), Marcus couldn't have been thinking anything good. He'd probably guessed that Ratty was a drug dealer or something, which... technically he probably was, so Alpha wasn't wrong, but he didn't have to spread the word after school. Not that Dean's conscience would be bothered if someone thought he was a dealer, but somehow he didn't like the idea of the vice principal and the class teacher and the school counselor rummaging through his locker. He didn't have anything interesting in there, but just on principle...
"Oh, my bad," Rat Face chuckled, leaning in close enough that Dean could smell his fermented peaches as well as the beer wafting from his mouth. "Friends?" He nodded to Forest.
He ducked to get away from both his scent and his foul breath.
"No way."
"Are they giving you trouble? Want us to take care of them?" He suggested with perfect ease.
He looked at him in shock.
"What? No!" He exclaimed immediately, before hesitating a little when he saw Ratchet looking even more amused. "What exactly was meant by taking care of them?"
"Anything you want." He winked. "Just if it gets too rough or bloody, we'll have to let the boss in."
He frowned a little. He wasn't sure if Ratface was serious or just joking, but for Marcus' sake, he wasn't going to find out. Not that he wasn't on a roll, but he didn't deserve to end up in the hands of mafia bangers who carried guns as an everyday accessory.
"He's just the Alpha asshole from school and his buddies. I can handle them myself."
"Are you sure?" Ratface arched an eyebrow. "I don't have to touch a hair on their heads. We'll just scare them enough to piss in their shoes. I guarantee they'll leave you alone forever after."
"Aren't you here to take me to Alpha Castiel?" He decided to change the subject.
Beta chuckled.
"Impatient?" He asked cheerfully before putting his arm around Dean's shoulders again and beginning to lead him across the street. "Don't worry. I'm sure the boss has a good workout for you."
The only one here who looked like he wanted a 'workout', judging by that wink and grin, was Ratface himself, though there was only a faint whiff of excitement as he took in his scent. Faint even for a Beta. Just nothing as intoxicating as the heavy musky scent of his Alpha. I guess Beta was the type to be interested in anything that moved.
The Ratface led him to an old, beat-up Ford parked a little further down the street - not far enough for Marcus to see Dean get in - and let him get in the back seat alone while he sat up front.
"We're supposed to drop you off at the waterfront. Do you mind if we stop somewhere for coffee?" Rat asked, leaning sideways against the seat, one arm draped over the seat, not caring that his buddy had rather abruptly stepped out of line. "We've had a rumble for fourteen hours now, and driving you around town is a bit over schedule."
"Sure, but only if you bring me one."
"Lots of milk and sugar?"
"Black, half a bag of sugar."
Ratface grinned.
"Did you hear him?" Ratface nudged the driver, but didn't wait for an answer. "That's Omega after my own heart." He turned back to Dean with a cheerful expression on his face. "I'd rather drive you than the last black Omega."
So much for Alpha's declaration that he was the first and only Omega he was interested in. Not that he didn't know how stupid that was, but he couldn't help a pang of regret and something he didn't like to call jealousy. His damned whiny inner Omega just bared its teeth for no reason, growling softly that the Alpha was his and his alone, and that any other Omega who had the audacity to come near him would end up with Dean's arms around his neck and his teeth in his throat.
"She was a regular kopeykova shlyukha," the Ratman wrinkled his nose in disgust, "but she thought she could boss us around like servants when she presented herself for Pugal at night. That was still Yuri, let's go shopping. Yuri, let's go to the restaurant. Yuri, take me there and there. And I should have done it on my own time, as if I didn't have a life of my own. But then again..." he shook his head. "She had nice tits and wore those tiny skirts and no underwear. I could always see up to her pussy."
" He's right. She was Yagishna, only with big tits," the driver turned to Dean, and it only now dawned on him that he was the same guy he'd seen outside the motel a while back. The day Pyotr had visited him, to be exact. They seemed to be an established couple, doing what mobsters usually did: collecting ransoms, disposing of witnesses and, most importantly, their corpses, and, by the looks of it, delivering Omegas to Castiel.
"Da, da," Yuri called Rat Face nodded. "She was good to look at, but we're all glad she's gone with Pugal anyway."
"Wait, that... Pu-gal isn't Alpha Castiel?"
"Net! Ne day Bog!" the driver exclaimed. "Pugal was our boss years ago."
"Ah... ah," he breathed out vaguely, a little confused by the feeling of relief that spread through his body. But that faded as well, for just because the last Omega they wore hadn't been Castiel's didn't mean he didn't have one. "What about your current boss's Omegas? Do you carry those too? I mean the others, besides me..." he asked, and yeah, it was about as smooth as sandpaper, but whatever?
His question was followed by an unusual silence, during which the Betas exchanged tense glances and a double whiff of nervous smell appeared under the upholstery cleaner. Faint, but clear enough to make him sniff and be confused. The question might have been stupid, and he sounded a bit like a whiny, jealous Omega, but it wasn't so bad that the Alpha's men had to look like they were chewing on a lemon. If they thought it was stupid to talk about their boss, they could just send Dean and his question away.
"No, we never carried Omegas for Batyushka," the driver replied carefully.
"He's not much for Omegas or busty strippers," Yuri interjected, whereupon he turned to Dean with an emphatically raised eyebrow. "If you know what I mean."
He frowned because he didn't understand. Beta just rolled his eyes.
"He just likes guys, okay?" he waved his hand.
The driver made an annoyed sound that might as well have been a word in Russian as a grunt.
"What?" the other Beta threw his hands out in a sweeping gesture. "This is America, brat. You can call someone a faggot here."
"He's a good Alpha and it's none of our business what he does in private. And with whom."
"I'm not saying he's not a good Alpha. I'm just saying it's a good thing he found a young one here," he nodded his head in Dean's direction. "You see... With Alphas and Betas it's always going to be putting a quarter pin in a round hole, but with Omega? Nature had its own plans for them."
When the Alpha had told him he had no interest in Omegas or women, he hadn't really believed him. At the time, it had seemed more like a way to ingratiate himself with Dean and make him feel unique. Apparently that was a well-known fact, but one that Alpha males weren't entirely comfortable with, which annoyed Dean for a number of reasons. Not just out of principle, but because this was Castiel, and he had a compulsive need to protect Alpha.
"Does your boss know you're saying this homophobic shit about him?" He asked sharply; both Betas turned to him in surprise. "And that you say it about me?" He dared to add. "I bet you he wouldn't be too happy if he found out. Alphas are generally sensitive to anyone mistreating their Omegas, and for all I know, the guy who did that to me," he pointed to the green and yellow bruise on his jaw, "ended up with three broken fingers. If I were you, I'd be careful about calling me 'faggot.
"You're getting angry for nothing, printsessa," Yuri waved his hand, literally and figuratively. "Of course you're not a faggot. You're an Omega."
He narrowed his eyes in irritation.
"I'm a guy and... I'm dating a guy. That pretty much fits the definition of 'faggot.'"
"Da, da... but you're not exactly a guy, are you?"
"Omega or not, I can guarantee you I have all the man parts in my pants."
"But a few extra girl parts, too," Yuri argued with a condescending undertone.
This was one of those stereotypical shits. The fact that he was an Omega and that nature had stuffed his ovaries and uterus into his belly, in addition to all the other organs of Alpha and Beta men, had made him less of a man in the eyes of some. Someone or something in between. As for Dean, he had always considered himself a man, and two extra organs didn't change that in his mind.
"Why don't you write that sexist bullshit down on a piece of paper, roll it up and shove it up your ass? How about that?"
Yuri turned sharply with a less than friendly expression and opened his mouth to reply when the driver slapped him on the shoulder and shoved him back into his seat.
"Ty khotite zakonchit' s prostrelennymi kolenyami? Zamolchi. I pust' mal'chik besitsya."
Whatever the driver had said to the other Beta was enough to keep him from turning back to Dean - and of course he didn't respond to the polite suggestion of where he could stuff his stupid shit - they just both gave him the occasional glance through the mirror while talking in Russian so Dean couldn't understand them. He tried to at least see if they were talking about him, but he hadn't heard anything about Omegas, so he gave up and turned his head to the window.
When they talked about eating on the coast, the first things that came to mind were a hotdog with a good portion of onions, a chocolate milkshake, and a walk through some park with a nice view. He also thought of the beach, but it was too cold to go to the beach. Unless there was a beach restaurant.
Yeah, his money was on a restaurant. It would definitely be more to Alpha's and his expensive shoes taste, which wouldn't go well with seawater or sand or grass. That's why he was surprised when the Beta driver ignored the sign that said no entry for all vehicles except for the road department, emergency services and special permit holders and drove straight into the park. And then the greens continued until they stopped behind Alpha's Mercedes.
He got out, slung his bag over his shoulder, and looked around.
The park was half empty. Most of the 'adults' were still at work, the kids Dean's age preferred to go home or hang out in the malls, and there was no playground in sight where mothers could take their puppies. The few lone pedestrians and smaller groups of people kept their distance as much as possible, giving Dean an unobstructed view of greenery, water, and... The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile.
Even from a distance, as he walked between the driver and Yuri, he could see Alpha Castiel sitting at a table set up in the middle of the lawn. He'd had the whole damn table brought into the park so he could have a late lunch or an early dinner. Who does that?
At the same moment that the first faint scent of bitter almonds and roasted cherries tickled his nose, Alpha must have caught the scent too, because he looked up from the phone he was typing on, and almost instantly his entire posture and expression changed from tense to relaxed, and his lips lifted in a smile.
He stood up, shoved his phone into his pocket, and walked around the desk.
"Hello, Dean."
"Hi, Alpha," he replied, surprising even himself that he was the first to cross the last few feet between them, leaning forward to get closer to the delicious scent that was strongest in the crook of Alpha's neck. Not muffled by his shirt collar or, this time, his black tie.
What he still didn't dare to do was touch Alpha. He felt the urge to at least run his hand up his arm, if not touch his shoulder and neck, because that would be dangerous and challenging as hell, but... He just couldn't find the courage or the will.
Alpha made the decision for him, wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close, burying his nose in his neck with much more force than the last time. It was more like what Dean had expected the first time, but there was no coarseness, only urgency and passion.
"It's good to see you," the Alpha said right after he pulled away, just before he cupped Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips to Dean lips.
He tasted of cigarettes, of course, but he also tasted of tea, and his lips were moist and warm, as if he had just drunk tea. Dean tilted his head to the side and parted his lips, trying to deepen the kiss and get more of that taste. Surprisingly, the Alpha didn't respond by thrusting his tongue into his mouth - as Dean had expected - but just let out a low, throaty growl before pulling away from the kiss.
He wouldn't raise his hand...it could have been the illusion of the autumn sun...but he thought he saw a red ring around Castiel's pupils. The brief moment he would have had to see for himself was quickly gone as the Alpha turned away and walked over to one of the chairs to offer it to Dean. But even the thought that he could almost turn Castiel red with a half-hearted kiss filled him with pride and stirred his inner Omega. Damn it! This was so stupid. Stupid and dangerous, because the last thing he wanted was to arouse an Alpha to the point where he lost control of himself. He knew only too well how that would end, having experienced it twice before. Red-eyed, rutting Alphas, completely out of control. Once he'd gotten away thanks to a stun gun, and the second time thanks to the solid metal door of a gas station bathroom.
There was no one and nothing to stop him if he went crazy.
"Sit down," Alpha urged him, interrupting the thoughts swirling through his head.
He gave it a quick glance, taking in the scent; calm, tart, and only slightly tinged with the Alpha's usual musky scent, before taking the seat he was offered. It had been funny when Castiel had slipped him a chair like some gentleman from the old movies, but this second time... Maybe it wasn't even the strangest thing Alpha Castiel had shown him.
Leaning back comfortably in the folding chair with a warm blanket draped over it, he tossed his bag beside his feet and glanced over at the smaller folding table covered with a white cloth tablecloth and filled with lidded serving trays. On the side of the table closer to the water was a... well, it looked like a large gold pot on small legs, studded with ornaments, with a small porcelain teapot with gold trim on top and a spigot protruding from the side. He'd seen something like this before and vaguely suspected that it was used to brew tea, but he didn't know what the real name was.
He glanced ahead to the porcelain plates at each place setting, two cups and a sugar bowl, all trimmed in gold like a teapot. Both the teapot and the cups seemed to belong at the same Seder, along with the golden pot that radiated a pleasant warmth all the way to Dean's seat. And, of course, the glass ashtray, conveniently placed near Castiel's right hand, could not be overlooked.
A shadow fell across the table as Yuri walked over and gradually removed one lid after another to reveal... wow! The trays were filled to the last empty space. On one were sandwiches of every flavor; ham, turkey, some sort of curried meat mixture, pickles, tuna - man, you could forgive the Alpha for that one, because yuck. They all had carefully cut crusts.
The second one had some awesome one-packs with sausage, ham, egg, olives, cucumber, and all sorts of things including... seriously, man, what did the Alpha have with fish? Okay, okay, the caviar, which was also there, fit the image of a Russian mob boss perfectly. The only thing missing was the champagne, which was fine because Dean wouldn't have wanted to taste it anyway. But the cupcakes with whipped cream and fruit on the third tray... or the stuffed tubes... or the toast sandwiches with peanut butter and jelly... or the brown sugared breads that were probably gingerbread... well, everything on the tray looked edible. I'd still like some cake.
Oh, damn it.
This time he couldn't decide what to go for first, but in the end the turkey sandwich won out because it was the closest. He grabbed it and managed to stuff a good half into his mouth in one bite, only to notice that Alpha was staring at him. Okay, that was pretty rude, Winchester, and if Dad saw you, he'd give you a good smack, except... God, the food looked so good! For a moment he forgot where he was and who he was with.
" Do you like it?" Alpha asked without a hint of displeasure.
"Hmmm..." All he could manage was a grunt of approval, so he took a bite.
Alpha Castiel narrowed his eyes with an amused smile.
"It's amazing how much you can fit in your mouth," he remarked casually, but even that little was enough to make Dean's ears burn.
Sure, it could have been a comment on his eating habits, but man... Dean was damn well aware of the double entendre.
"Boss..." came the voice of Yuri, whose presence Dean had forgotten even more reliably than Alpha's.
Castiel shot a sullen glance at his man and pursed his lips as the Beta leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Whispering was a very figurative way of putting it. They could hear every word he spoke in hoarse Russian, which of course only the Alpha understood. And all Dean could do was watch Castiel's expression change from impatient to impatiently cold and wonder what Yuri was telling him. Was he talking about what had happened in the car? Something about Dean not being a submissive Omega? If so, the boy was in for an unpleasant surprise, because he certainly wasn't going to keep quiet about his homophobic bullshit. And somehow he doubted that Alpha would like being called a faggot. Nobody in Russia could like that either.
Beta had finished speaking. Castiel just nodded slightly before a small wave of his hand sent him and the driver, who was standing nearby, away. He gave them a parting glance before turning to Castiel once they were at the waiting cars, definitely out of earshot. He expected the Alpha to glare at him, perhaps angrily, but his attention was on the trays of food.
"I've been told," the Alpha said, taking a ham sandwich from the tray and placing it on his plate; Dean tensed a little and began to prepare how piquantly he was going to deliver Beto's stupid lines, "that you're having trouble with an Alpha."
He blinked in surprise and swallowed.
So that was what Yuri had told him? About Marcus and his two little friends who, although they had a little grudge against Dean, were actually completely harmless, and not just to Alpha Castiel and his men. There was an idiot like Forest at every school he and Sammy went to.
"It's nothing," he replied, not wanting to lie. He didn't really know what all of Alpha's men knew or saw.
"I'll make sure he doesn't bother you anymore," he replied, not looking up from eating his second tuna sandwich.
It was supposed to be funny. An Alpha like Castiel Novak shouldn't have had to deal with a high school knothead with a penchant for bullying in the first place. It just didn't sound funny. The way he'd said he'd take care of Marcus had an edge of coldness to it that made Dean more than a little uneasy. Forest really was a jerk, and he certainly didn't deserve to have the wrath of the Russian Mafia on his back. After all, he hadn't done anything. He must have talked Alpha out of... whatever he had planned for Marcus.
"He's just a high school Knot. Isn't it a little beneath you to even care about him?" He asked defiantly.
Alphas always respond well to insolence.
Blue eyes glittered, and Dean thought that maybe sass wasn't the best idea this time. But the Alpha's expression was calm, almost indifferent, and that little spark was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"He's the same age as you, isn't he?" He asked; Dean nodded. "Then he's not a little puppy anymore. He needs to know the consequences of his actions and what can happen to him if he touches an Omega that belongs to another Alpha. If he doesn't know, he will be politely reminded."
The word 'politely' was spoken in a way that indicated the reminder would be anything but polite.
"Everyone saw your men pick me up today. If you send them after Marcus, everyone will think I'm in a gang or selling drugs," he argued, not so much to protect his stupid Alpha classmate as to keep himself out of trouble and, more importantly, to keep Sammy out of it.
Who knows why his earnest objection amused Castiel so much that he flashed his golden fang in a smile.
"What's so funny about that?" He asked, a little irritated.
"You'd make a terrible high school dealer," Alpha's voice was laced with mirth as he replied.
"I'd be great!" He objected offended. "Look at me," he waved his hand at himself, "I look like a bad boy," he emphasized the 'bad boy' not only because he was really proud of his rebellious image, but also because a little double entendre had the desired effect.
The Alpha gave him a piercing look of interest and intensity that sent a pleasant shiver down Dean's entire body. Only then did he return to his sandwich, amusement still on his face.
"You certainly look it, Dean, which is why I wouldn't trust you to sell weed."
"Why not?"
"The high school market, at least in the neighborhood you go to, has similar rules to the white picket fence market. The seller has to blend in with the crowd.You," he nodded in his direction, "look exactly like someone with a knife and a bag of Adderall in his pocket. I can see it, you can see it, and most importantly, the entire faculty can see it.
If your school started selling drugs on a large scale, you'd be the first person they'd suspect. On the other hand," he tilted his head a little, "the pretty cheerleading captain, or the editor of the school newspaper, or the Omega president of the chess club..."
It might have been a coincidence that the president of the chess club at his school was indeed an Omega girl, but... no, how could he get little Betty Fowler to sell drugs for him? She was a cute and always cheerful, slightly chubby Omega with big glasses and braces studded with colorful rhinestones, who wore brightly colored clothes and was always gorging herself on something sweet. He'd never thought anyone could be like her... He understood now, but still...
"Why would someone like that be selling drugs?"
"Why would a Beta mother of two children sell drugs?" Alpha asked in return. "Money, their own addiction, boredom, the desire to spit in the system's face. Just pick a reason."
"Betty Fowler sells for you?" He dared to ask an open question.
"Who is Betty Fowler?" Alpha asked in confusion. And even his confusion seemed genuine, not just an attempt to avoid answering. He cocked his head to the side in an odd way, his eyes squinting and his lips parted oddly, making him look almost cute. Dean could tell for sure that he really didn't understand.
"Omega's president of the chess club at my school."
"Oh, right. I see." He put down his sandwich and replaced it with a cloth napkin, with which he began to carefully wipe his fingers, "We're only marginally interested in the high school market. The golden '90s, when students snorted cocaine off the toilet seat at school, are long gone, and prescription drugs make a lot more money on the street than they do among high school kids. Today, one in two middle-class American kids is on antidepressants or attention-deficit disorder drugs, and instead of buying them, they sell them themselves on the Internet or trade them among themselves." He folded the napkin in half, set it down, and removed the teapot from the top of the pot.
Dean watched curiously as Castiel poured what he thought was an unnaturally dark tea into his mug, sending a strong aroma into the surrounding area. He then took a sugar cube from the sugar bowl and added it to the tea, finally holding the cup under the faucet to fill it with hot water. After a few vigorous stirs with the spoon, the Alpha grabbed the mug with both hands - the ring holding the spoon - and took a light sip.
A look of bliss immediately appeared on Castiel's face, and his scent was filled with a new shade of sweet happiness, almost the same as the last time they had sat together. Dean was eating his burger, just as he was now chewing a bite of his sandwich, and Alpha was smoking. Only this time he wasn't inhaling the nasty tar, but the surprisingly delicious smell of tea that made Dean's saliva pool. Strange. He always preferred coffee.
"Tea?"
"Sure," he agreed, watching as Alpha repeated the procedure with his mug. He did it with all the care he could muster, with his deft, tattooed fingers, and yet so homely that... suddenly it all seemed terribly funny.
Laughing, he grabbed the warm mug much less gracefully and washed down the last bite of his turkey sandwich with the hot, slightly sweet tea. And hey, it was actually quite good. Its taste was as refined, almost floral, as its aroma.
"Something fun?" This time it was Alpha's turn to ask.
"Nothing." He shook his head; Castiel gave him a piercing look. "Everything...this..." he waved his hand around and then between them. "And you and me... you... serving me tea and talking about selling drugs like you're talking about your day at work."
"Technically... it's my work," Alpha replied calmly, taking a decent bite out of his tuna sandwich.
"Sure," he grinned, reaching for the nearest ham sandwich. "And I'm your house Omega, who you'll tell at dinner about who you killed that day, how well he's doing selling guns, and how your hookers are doing."
He didn't mean any of it, though his mind painted a perfect and utterly absurd picture of family dinners with Alpha, discussing both Mafia business and designs for new wallpaper for the living room. It was ridiculous, but the Omega in him loved it. The strange domesticity.
Alpha seemed to take it seriously, though, because he put down his sandwich. He rested his forearm on the edge of the table with one hand and began to run his fingers over the tab of the cup with the other.
"After what you've already seen, it's pretty hard to hide who I am from you. But I'll admit," he tilted his head to one side and then smoothly back, "there will always be things... specific places, names, details that I can't tell you about because it would be too dangerous for both of us. But if you want to know something more general, just ask. If it's safe, I'll tell you. If not, I won't lie to you or hide anything. I'll just refuse to answer."
"Says the Alpha who didn't even tell me his real name," he snorted, only to immediately freeze in concern.
He didn't really want to tell the Alpha that he knew this little, or maybe big, secret of his. He had obvious reasons for keeping his real name from Dean, including the fact that, as he had just said, he didn't want him to know the details of his life of crime, and the name might very well be the key to them. Maybe, who knew, there was a warrant out for the arrest of an Ivan Kon-Novak somewhere in the world or in Russia, and now the Alpha would think that Dean knew about him and could turn him in at the nearest police station. Or that he knew other things besides the name, like where he laundered his dirty money, the identities of the other members of his gang, where their secret bases were... just anything compromising that could be passed on to the police or the FBI.
All Dean knew was his name, a not-so-short biography, and that he might like birds because he was a big donor to a bird charity.
Oh yeah... why the hell didn't he keep his mouth shut?
He opened his mouth to say some kind of apology, a joke, anything to make up for what he'd just said, only to be interrupted by Alpha.
"You googled me?" He asked as he picked up the sandwich again and raised it to his lips. His expression was calm and the almond bitterness didn't even begin to assert itself in his scent.
"Yeah, something like that. I have been asking around a bit. I know a few people too, you know, and I can get information if I want it," he snapped, because it was better to keep the light tone that gave the Alpha away than to give in to his racing heart and the inner Omega that, despite Castiel's calm, urged him to stick his neck out instead. Actually, since he was already at it, and if he was going to go through with it anyway, why not continue.
"I know your real name is Ivan Kon... konsto..."
"Ivan Konstantinovich Novak."
"Yeah, exactly... and I also know you were born in Moscow, own a strip club in addition to the Alpha Club, like birds, and are one of New York's elite."
Alpha swallowed a bite of his nearly finished sandwich and licked his lips.
"That's all right."
"And you're some damn big head in the Russian mafia." He finally said it out loud.
And of course Alpha wasn't moved.
"We don't usually refer to ourselves as the 'Russian Mafia.'" He lifted his cup of tea. "The name 'Russian Mafia' is mostly a Western invention. Besides, you have a habit of calling almost everyone from the former Eastern bloc a Russian mobster. It doesn't matter if he's Russian, Ukrainian or even Bulgarian." He took a sip and put his cup back on the table. "Like me, my men are from Russia. Not all of them were born there, but they are all Russian in heart and blood. So yes, we are as close to the Russian Mafia as we can be," he indicated the quotation marks with the fingers of at least his free hand while holding the rest of the sandwich in the other, "but we still prefer to be called Bratva. Or Brotherhood, when we speak English. Though most of the time we just call each other 'we,'" he finished, popping the last bite of sandwich into his mouth, then scraping the crumbs from his hands.
Dean watched him chew, processing what the Alpha had just told him. Not that there was anything incomprehensible about it. It was all simple, clear, and spoken as if he were talking about the weather. And he really didn't seem to want to hide anything from Dean, so it suddenly made sense why he hadn't told him his real name. It couldn't have been the fear of being outed or even the lack of trust that made his Omega so uncomfortable.
"If you feel comfortable telling me all this," he made a vague gesture, "then why didn't you tell me your real name?"
The Alpha took a breath as if to answer, but instead just frowned thoughtfully.
"Honestly?" He finally said after a short pause. "I've been calling myself Castiel for a very long time, and while my real name is no secret per se, most people don't know it, or at least don't associate it with me. My men call me 'Boss' or sometimes 'Batyushka' like most people in the Russian quarter. To Americans I'm 'Alpha Novak' or 'Alpha Castiel' and even my brothers usually call me 'Castiel'," he clarified, and in a way it wasn't so far from Dean's assumption that Alpha didn't want his real name to be known. "It'll be..." He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyebrows knitted together in thought. His gaze was fixed somewhere behind Dean, as if remembering something, "Twenty years since I was routinely called Ivan, but if you prefer," he looked Dean in the eyes again, "I don't mind."
He couldn't tell if the Alpha wanted to be called by his real name, or if he preferred to stay with Castiel, or if he was giving Dean a choice. He dared to assume it was a choice, because so far, even though Castiel seemed like a typical Alpha, he had always followed his wishes. At the same time, his instincts told him that he should do what his Alpha wanted, and since that wasn't something he disliked, he decided to give it a try.
"Ivan." He rolled his name around on his tongue, but somehow it just didn't work. It didn't fit. Not to mention that he wouldn't say his middle name even if he was being tortured. He frowned and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alpha, but it sounds strange. If you don't mind, I'd rather stay with Castiel. I wouldn't tell you your second name anyway."
The Alpha gave him a strange look that wasn't quite annoyance, but still looked a little displeased. Dean sucked in the air, and before the wind turned and blew all of the Alpha's scent away, he caught the hint of displeasure in his scent as well. Maybe he wanted him to call him by his real name after all.
"Alright. It's probably best if you keep calling me Castiel," he agreed despite his displeasure, whereupon his expression softened again and he motioned with his hand to one of the trays. "Take the scanapé. I'm sure they'll be delicious. Ulyana Leonidovna was very careful. In fact, it was she who suggested that we have sandwiches and canapés today. She said it would be more to your American taste," he added amusedly.
He hesitated a little, watching Alpha for a few more moments, but apparently the subject of his name and criminal activities had been put aside, and as far as Dean was concerned, he didn't need to revisit it now. He quickly popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and while he chewed, he looked at the overflowing tray playing with all the colors. Someone had really gone to a lot of trouble to make the sandwiches, so there was nothing missing. There were plenty of safe ones with ham, pickles, or sausage, and then the less appealing ones like the ones with fish or... caviar. Okay, he didn't really like fish, but hey! They ate caviar in every movie. It was supposed to be something super fancy and cool. Why not try it when it was right in front of him.
"I'll try the ones with caviar," he said solemnly and seriously, and as he reached for one of those one-shots, he glanced at Alpha and was pleased to find the corners of his mouth twitching in a tiny smile as he watched him with narrowed eyes.
He sniffed the mono and was surprised that it didn't smell like fish at all. And the black balls looked like small, shiny beads, just moistened with water or maybe oil.
Bravely, he popped the single snack into his mouth and chewed a few times on the crispy puff pastry, which tasted only slightly fishy with a slight salty undertone. Was that all? He wrinkled his nose in disappointment and sent a disgruntled glance in Alpha's direction, as if the bland taste was his fault.
Castiel had managed to pull out his cigarettes in the meantime, and was just lighting up when he caught Dean's reproachful look, so he just silently raised his eyebrows in question.
"Tastes like batter with a little salty, fishy water," he complained.
The alpha took a drag.
"I don't know what you expected otherwise, Dean...?" He said with a slight question at the end, a few puffs of smoke escaping between his lips with each word. "Caviar is fish eggs." Of course, he didn't bother to emphasize the word 'fish'.
He rolled his eyes.
"I know. I may be Omega, but I'm not that stupid," he snorted, only half noticing the Alpha's intake of breath as if to say something. He didn't give him the chance. "I just thought it would be... I don't know... More exotic? In the movies they keep talking about it like it's something special and it actually tastes pretty ordinary." He picked up another single serving and measured it critically. "I really don't understand why anyone would pay a hundred bucks for this."
"You can pay thousands for a serving of some kinds of caviar," Alpha pointed out casually, much to Dean's dismay.
He sincerely hoped that he hadn't just eaten a thousand just now, lest he end up complaining more. Very carefully, he placed the single-serving snack back on the tray. He wasn't going to put anything else in his mouth that was possibly worth more than all his possessions.
A deep growl came from the other side of the table, causing him to look up quickly, only to meet blue eyes sparkling with amusement and see the Alpha bar his teeth in a gleeful grin. The golden fang gleamed, and a genuine laugh escaped Alpha's throat.
"If you could see yourself right now... You're acting like I killed someone right in front of you, which..." He paused and frowned slightly, "...I already did, and it disturbed you less than the price of caviar," he pointed out, and to Dean's displeasure he just laughed again as he gave him a concerned look. Eventually, the Alpha took pity, his laughter turning into an amused smile that was even softened around the edges by what he dared to call tenderness. "Feel free to take more. It may be Russian caviar, but it's the kind you can get in every other convenience store. I like good food, but I mostly stick to the saying that no matter how much food costs, it's still going to end up being poop."
He blinked in surprise before bursting out laughing and raising his eyes to the sky, barely resisting the urge to kick Alpha under the table for such a stupid joke. What he didn't forgive himself for was a snort and a disgruntled pout that only resulted in the Alpha continuing to smile anyway, lips wrapped around his cigarette. He remained completely unfazed. He was simply unreal. No, seriously, he walked around in a twenty grand suit and calmly made remarks about asses and shit jokes. Who does that?!
He'd look Castiel in the eye, and he'd look back, and suddenly... Suddenly all the mirth left him as he stopped grinning, and was replaced by... something. A strange feeling in his chest. A sort of warm lightness that he would have loved to attribute to his Omega instincts, but a little voice in his head told him it wasn't that. Yeah, his Omega growled, satisfied by the mere presence of the strong, dominant Alpha that Castiel was without a shadow of a doubt, but that wasn't something Dean couldn't handle. He had years of practice at it, after all.
This was different, almost homely, like sitting outside his dad's favorite cabin in the mountains, Sammy on one side and their Alpha on the other... His stomach clenched. He refused to think about this, and even less wanted to consider why the two feelings were so similar. Feelings generally sucked and he certainly didn't want to dwell on them, so he turned his attention to something safe; one-liners. He started trying each kind in turn, the fishy ones first because he was curious and could eat them with other, better bites. All the while, he cast alternating glances at the now silent Alpha, who was contentedly smoking, his face tilted slightly to the side to let the sun hit it, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye, from under his squinted lids.
The line of Alpha's jaw was sharp in the lowering sun, his eyes were decorated with fans of fine lines, and the few silver hairs that had already gathered over his ears had a honeyed tinge. And when he parted his lips to put a cigarette between them, he was just... fucking handsome.
He averted his gaze and popped a sausage and pickle single into his mouth.
"These are really good," he broke the silence.
It wasn't that he didn't like just being with Alpha, but he simply couldn't sit still and be quiet. He needed music at least, if nothing else.
"Really? I'll try..." the Alpha uttered lazily, taking one as well.
The satisfying little deep noise that vibrated through Castel's chest was an assurance that he liked it too, and that was satisfying in such a pleasant way.
"See? I told you!" He grinned, stuffing two more pieces into his mouth while fiddling with the third in his hand. "I don't even know what that is..."
"Horse sausage."
He stiffened. Was the Alpha kidding him? No, it didn't look like it. He had his usual impassive expression on his face and a calm, blue lagoon in his eyes. So that meant... yuck! He didn't even think, he just leaned half under the table and spat everything in his mouth onto the grass. Borscht was one thing, but this...! Who the hell would...!
"Shit! Ugh!" Disgusted, he reached for his tea to rinse his mouth thoroughly with it. The flavorful, sweet liquid was just what he needed to get rid of the aftertaste, and then he looked with genuine anger at Alpha, who was watching him with a slightly raised eyebrow. "What the hell, man...? Horses aren't for eating! Horses are... they're like dogs, only for cowboys! And dogs aren't for eating!"
"Actually..."
"No!" He cried, waving his hand emphatically. "No, just no, Alpha. Just don't... no... just... no... there are lines that are not to be crossed, okay! And horses and dogs are far, like, way beyond them!"
He didn't care that the Alpha on the other side gave him an amusedly condescending look, nor did he care that he might stop being condescending and start getting angry that Dean was spitting food around like a little kid. Eating a horse was just over the edge. He wasn't going to take any Russian food in his mouth from now on, not if his life depended on it.
"Are you done?" asked Castiel, unperturbed.
He gave him an angry look cast over the mug from which he was finishing the last drops of tea.
"After this? Yeah."
"Good." He nodded, as if he didn't care what Dean had just demonstrated. He simply stubbed out the cigarette that only had a filter left of it anyway, then reached down into the picnic basket that Dean hadn't noticed until now and pulled out a paper bag, which he placed on the table.
He measured it suspiciously.
"I'm afraid to ask what this is..."
"Birdseed," the Alpha replied, but by then he was up and grabbing a folded, beige cloak from the back of his chair. It was the old, knee-length, cloth type, and while it didn't look worn, the strong scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds wafted out as Alpha waved it to drape it around his shoulders. He must have worn it often, and probably rarely washed it, because the fabric was literally so saturated with his scent that Dean felt the urge to grab the nearest corner and bury his nose in it.
"Get up, Omega," he urged as he straightened the collar of his coat, snapping Dean out of his stupid fascination with the scent.
"Where are we going?" He asked, but obediently stood up.
Castiel gave him a look.
"To feed the birds," he replied in a way that made Dean look stupid, because after all, it was perfectly normal for a creepy Russian mob boss to go to the park to feed the pigeons.
"Yeah... feed the birds," he muttered, more to himself as the Alpha was already walking across the lawn towards the nearest path.
He took two steps behind him, only to be stopped by the sight of the last tray of desserts. Surely he couldn't be rude and not at least taste them. He quickly popped three tubes into his mouth, and while still holding one in his hand, with his other hand he piled all the gingerbread loaves into a napkin, wrapped them up, and shoved them into the deep pocket of his jacket. For later, or for Sammy.
He slipped the last tube into his mouth and looked back at Alpha, who was already standing on the wide sidewalk, watching him. He cast one last longing glance at all the unfinished food before Castiel quickly ran off, a muttered apology on his lips. Alpha made no comment, just started down the path, not checking again to see if Dean was following him.
He matched pace with him, looking around the park before they reached a spot that at first glance wasn't anything interesting - it had a nice scenery of the sea and the beach below - but Castiel thought it was perfect for... Dude, really? He wasn't quite sure how to feel as he watched the, knowing full well from personal experience the very dangerous Alpha, reach into a paper bag and then toss a handful of grain on the ground which the pigeons immediately began to descend upon. Probably the closest he came to feeling at peace, but also a little amused.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and allowed himself to move closer to Castiel so that their shoulders brushed against each other, allowing him to turn his head and inhale his contented scent. He was clearly enjoying feeding the growing flock of squawking birds that were gathering at their feet.
The alpha turned his head and their eyes met. Castiel's nostrils flared as he sniffed - he must have smelled Dean's equally satisfying scent - and then he just tilted the bag to offer him the chance to toss a handful as well. He hesitated only briefly, then thought why not. He scooped up the grain, which wasn't actually grain but small pellets, and tossed them to the pigeons.
"I last did this when Sammy was about eight," he remarked, smiling at the good memory.
"It's comforting. Weather permitting, I come here every Thursday."
He turned to Catiel, who was mostly concerned with the pigeons. His face was calm, relaxed, and he smelled so content that it was really hard not to inhale the sweet-tart scent. And at the same time, it was all... what was the word? Surreal. The same Alpha who could kill with his bare hands without blinking was happily watching the pigeons at his feet.
He had no idea what had come over him... he shouldn't have done it, knowing who the Alpha was and why he was even here with him... but he leaned in and pressed his lips to the rough stubble covering his jaw. Maybe it was just that his face was so close and his scent was so comforting. He didn't know, but it was great, regardless of the fact that it was also a little weird. He'd never kissed anyone with a beard, except his dad, and he really didn't want to think about him right now.
He pulled away, breath quickening and heart racing, and waited a few long seconds before Alpha slowly turned. They looked into each other's eyes closely. Dean's heart made a few more frantic beats before Castiel's eyelids closed and Alpha sucked in air deeply. This time it was accompanied by a rough sniffing sound and a very clear nostril movement that some would consider damn rude. Dean didn't even have a chance to think about what he thought.
Castiel's eyes opened again, and for a brief moment before he moved towards him and pulled him into a kiss, he saw with absolute certainty the blood red seeping into the waters of the blue lagoon. He didn't even have a chance to think about it, only to realize that his Omega literally howled in all-encompassing satisfaction at the fact that he clearly had all of this Alpha's interest, and then his lips were assaulted by a tongue relentlessly demanding entrance.
This time, though, he didn't give in as he had last time, though he felt a lightness in his knees. This time he came out willingly to meet him, tasting the tea and the shared flavor of the food and the bitterness of the cigarettes. He explored the heat and wetness of his mouth until he came upon a fang that protruded unnaturally from his jaw. Sure enough, all three of the Alpha's true fangs were simply Alpha; pointed, but almost aligned with the other teeth. Only one dominated everything, and surprisingly, it was just as sharp as the real ones. In a small rush of curiosity and mostly rationality, he wondered if that was the reason for Castiel's gravelly voice, but then he felt a large palm on his cheek and fingers brushing against his neck, and any normal thought was pretty much smoked out of his head.
He didn't think as he gripped Castiel's hips, and instead of curling up against him, he instead pulled Alpha against him until their belts met. He did it as intuitively as he would have done with any girl he'd ever kissed, he just needed a little more strength to do it.
Castiel pulled away. He unconsciously followed his retreating lips. He wanted more, but Alpha had other plans. He buried his nose in the crook of his neck, found his way under the collar of his jacket, and finally pinched his steaming gland between his lips. And God, it was... Even though Alpha's mouth was touching his neck through two layers of fabric and he hadn't even used his teeth, it still shot an incredible sensation from Dean's shoulder beautifully between his shoulder blades and then further down his spine and into his cock as well.
He had to bite his own cheek to suppress a groan and grip even tighter to keep from growling in frustration as Castiel pulled away, and all that was left behind was an uncomfortable cold sensation on Dean's neck.
"The park is starting to fill up," Castiel remarked, seemingly unrelated to anything they were doing. His voice was even deeper than usual, and his eyes were unfocused as he let go and took a step back.
He blinked in confusion and looked around. Really, there were more people around, but why would that... Oh, right. If he continued, surely sooner or later there would be someone who would be offended and who might even drag the nearest officer into it. Neither of them wanted to get involved with the cops.
"Yeah... yeah..." he growled, pulling his jacket off his shoulder.
He suddenly felt insecure. And when he looked up into Alpha's face, his uncertainty intensified. He looked devastated, and while it drove Dean Omega crazy to see his Alpha so eager, he also felt a chill in his gut.
He was sure that this time the Alpha wouldn't let him go. He was too horny. And Dean honestly wasn't sure if that turned him on more or scared him.
"I guess... um, I guess we should..." He pointed a thumb behind him.
"Good idea," the Alpha agreed, surprisingly finding enough time and probably self-discipline to empty the bag of kibble on the ground before wrapping his arm around Dean's shoulders and steering him back towards the car.
As they walked towards the car looming in the distance... Alpha's arm rested around his back in a decidedly possessive manner, their hips touching each other just enough so that it wasn't actually inappropriate, his strong, tattooed fingers pressing discreetly into the crook of Dean's neck. It was probably a slightly inappropriate touch to pretend they were related, because Alpha's fingers pressed right into his gland and... well. Damn. He couldn't think about how dangerous that was as he felt a soft, pleasurable tingle all over his body every time the bellies of Alpha's fingers pressed particularly hard into his skin, albeit through all those layers of fabric. No one had ever touched him there so intensely. Sure, every girl he's been with has tried it, especially Omega, because perhaps the last person in the world knew how sensitive the scent glands in Alphs and Omegas - and a couple of happy betas - were, but it was never like that. It's like Castiel can intuitively press the right buttons.
If he wasn't afraid by now, by the time they got to Mercedes and Golem opened the back door, he felt fear. Strangely enough, he wasn't so afraid of Alpha taking him in… even though, man, yeah, he had nodules of nervousness in his gut… as much as he had a strong influence on him. And also that he always allowed himself to forget that this is not a dating, but rather… a business. His and Sammy's life and a few nice moments in exchange for setting butt.
Simple.
He slid up to the window and leaned back into those damn comfortable, soft seats that… come on! What he really needed was for the heat from the heating to start thawing his cold ass when he didn't even notice it froze. On the other hand, it was really pleasant. With a sigh, he plunged into the pleasant warmth and even closed his eyes for a moment, which he quickly opened only when he felt movement next to himself.
Alpha leaned towards him.
He strained a little, expecting Castiel to sink his nose into his throat, as he had done on the pier, but he curiously stooped for the bag lying at his feet.
“I have a present for you,” he said as he put the bag on his lap.
According to the logo, he already knew what would be inside and was not mistaken. The latest iPhone. By designation, not the most expensive on the market. Thankfully. He had no doubt that Alpha would have that one too, but Dean wouldn't be able to use it anyway because he wouldn't be able to hide it from Samm and his classmates. And he couldn't even answer noisy questions like where he got his answer when he lived in a cheap motel and went to work in an ugly diner. But it was still something he would only get his hands on if he accidentally pulled it out of someone's pocket instead of wallet.
“The one in the top box is for you. The second is for your brother.”
Fuck. Did he buy two? How did he think he could explain to Sam that he had brought home a new iPhone still sealed in a box? Wait, actually no, the box was already unlocked, and when he opened it and turned the phone on, he found it was ready for use.
“You have all the contacts on me, including the addresses where I usually stay. Also our chat app. The River,” he added, which was clearly the name of the app, and from the way Alpha raised his eyebrows, he probably wanted Dean to find it. It wasn't hard to find, considering it was one of two new apps on mobile, and if that wasn't enough, the bland icon of something like a twisting river on a green background told its own story. When he knocked on it, a simple chat opened up for him, with whom apparently no one took much time graphically. The only interesting thing about the whole application was how Alpha managed to push it into iPhones, which were notorious for hating unlicensed applications.
“Don't worry, you can send me messages, photos and videos with any content. Everything is sent encrypted and it is deleted from the mobile when the application is closed or once every twelve hours. The second,” he pointed to the second application, “is self-destruction.”
Dean looked at him in disbelief. Really? Self-destruct?
“When you activate it, it wipes all the content on your phone with irrelevant data and then overloads the battery. You better not have your phone in your hand at this point. It's really kicking. Then I usually trample him down,”he half advised, frowning a little. “I don't trust computers. Certainty is certainty.”
“Okay, Alpha, I'll remember that,” he said simply, because what else can hi say? And carefully put the iPhone back in the box. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it on the floor and smash it right in front of Alph's eyes.
“You don't like it?” Castiel asked with a hint of concern in his voice, a hint of uncertainty filling his cakey scent. And when Dean looked at him, he had a frowned expression. “They say it's something you should like.”
Of course he liked it. Who the hell wouldn't want a new phone? Especially beautiful, shiny, novelty-smelling iPhone, but… It was a very real reminder of what Alpha was really up to, and even if it wasn't a direct payment like the damn car, it was pretty close. Mainly because he knew he couldn't refuse. How did he say that last time? Refusing gifts is impolite. And Dean was pretty sure that Castiel cared a lot about courtesy and respect.
“No, it's great. Thank you, Alpha,” he said quickly to avoid inconvenience.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem particularly pleasing to the Alpha.
“I was expecting more enthusiasm. Maybe even a little gratitude.”
Dean clenched his jaw in a fit of irrational anger, because why would he be angry? Everything worked exactly as he had counted in the beginning, and what was the expression of gratitude did not even have to describe Alpha in a comprehensive way. He slid his gaze to his crotch, where a dick was outlined under the cloth of his pants. Shamelessly exposed between comfortably stretched legs. It was probably best to just get over it. Making the damn move first and destroying Alph's mind game.
He put down his bag and leaned over to Castiel.
He could not and did not want to look into his eyes, so he looked only at the place where he was about to get a job. He doubted the Alpha would settle for just a hand, it wasn't some high school knot. And that's why he tried to remember the details of the few smokes he experienced and all the porn that passed through his cell phone in which a nice busty girl swallows a big alpha dick including a knot. He hoped the Alpha wouldn't want him to. Except for a few fleeting thoughts, which he always suppressed, he didn't even consider taking someone else's penis in his mouth, much less thinking about how to stuff it down his throat and then get it knotted in his mouth. Yet at this moment he could not help the disturbingly exciting idea that he had Castiel's fingers in his hair and was being pushed into his crotch, a mouth full of massive cock, so he had no chance to pull back or protest.
He swallowed heavily, gathered all the strength to suppress his lush imagination, and put his hand on Alph's thigh, while the other stretched to a simple belt buckle. The cloth under his hand was firm, but at the same time soft and pliable. Maybe if he focused on that and just let the Alpha do what he wanted, it would be easier…
He almost flew out of his skin.
The pants under his hand began to win some Russian song and vibrate.
“Sorry,” Castiel apologized, reaching into his pocket, so the edge of his hand over the cloth touched Dean's.
He quickly put his hand away and retreated, as he watched tensely as the Alpha frowned at the display first and then sighed.
“This may take a while, but I have to take it,” he announced sincerely, apologetically and with a small hint of irritation, as if he had just interrupted something really pleasant for both of them, then he put his phone to his ear and literally yelled into it, “Ya slyshu tebya, brat’. Chto ty khotit?”
Dean almost jerked himself a second time, preferring to give Castiel and himself a little more space. When Alpha spoke English, his voice sounded beautifully deep, like a sip of fine whiskey, and the accent gave the words an exotic, almost seductive quality, but when he spoke Russian… well, it sounded like he was roaring angrily, even if his scent was only slightly irritated. And whoever he was talking to, he sounded pissed.
He tried to move to the other end of the seat, but Alph's hand fired quickly and pressed on his thigh to stop him. He looked at him, only to find that he paid little attention to him and concentrated mainly on the phone. Still, he held him close. He tensed for a moment under his touch, ready to back away as soon as Castiel let him go, but since he didn't, and it didn't look like he was going to end the call anytime soon, he just leaned back in the seat. And finally, he relaxed, even through a loud and rude call resonating throughout the car.
He followed the road, only occasionally straying from the corner of his eye to Alpha, who looked back at him. And several times he rolled his eyes in annoyance, and several times the grip of his hand grew stronger. At one point, Dean even had the impression that they were talking about him because he looked at him so strangely, but he stopped caring when he realized they were just outside their motel.
“Ya dolzhen ostanovit'sya, brat,,” Castiel growled into the phone, certainly not waiting for an answer before tapping the call. He put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry. Getting rid of my brother is hard. The Irish could tell the tale,” he added to himself with a small, amused grin, before turning to Dean and the corners clapped in his smile. “Come here…” he said with a sigh, grasping his back and pulling for a quick, damp kiss that made Dean lean against his breasts with his palms, just so he wouldn't fall into his arms. And then he pulled away again. At the same time, however, he did not release Dean, but only relieved the pressure on his neck. “I'm sorry we lost our last moment together.”
“It's nothing. Your brother must have had something important," he replied politely. They were at a motel, which he really didn't expect this time, and because he didn't want to focus on why he was sorry, he instead focused on ending the date as quietly as possible.
“He rarely has anything important,” Alpha said, sighing and letting go. “You have to go, Sam is waiting for you. And write how he liked the gift. Perhaps he will be more enthusiastic than you," he did not forgive a small sting, but unlike the first complaint, this time he had a more amused spark in the corner of his eye.
"I can't just give it to him," he whispered to Castiel's clear displeasure, so he quickly proceeded. “I mean… I don't want to sound ungrateful because I'm not, Alpha, I just don't know… where do I say I got a new iPhone? I don't normally steal such expensive things and…”
“Just tell him it's a gift from your Alpha,” he interrupted with a recommendation, as if it was okay to say something like that to Sammy. When he left, he wasn't really his Alpha boyfriend, though he liked to look so much. The only thing that was unbelievable was that the Alpha he was seeing would be rich enough to give away iPhones to strange boys. Mainly because there was not much chance of him meeting someone like that in the bars and diners he went to, and it was still a bit of a mystery to him that Castiel just stopped by for cookies and vanilla milk when he had people for everything else.
"It's not just like that. How do I explain to him where I met you? Or where did you earn it?”
Castiel tilted his head to the side in a typical confused gesture.
“Just tell the truth.”
"Yes. I will say that I met a Russian mafia boss in the evening who was just buying biscuits and he accidentally killed two people in front of me, so he had to kidnap me…”
“I'd skip the mafia, corpses and kidnapping part. I think the rest is pretty believable. Your familiar scent…” he leaned forward a bit to take in Dean's scent with closed eyes before pulling back and continuing, “is reason enough for me to reach out to you. Actually, I was going to wait for you outside and introduce myself. Those two idiots ruined it for me. And as for the money…” he bared his teeth a bit with a wildly amused smile, “I'm a sneaky businessman and the owner of two decently profitable entertainment businesses. Ask whoever you want. Even my legal earnings are so big that this,” he nodded to Dean's bag at his feet, “is nothing but petty to me.” He tilted his head a little again. "But if you want, I can give it to him myself and explain everything to him."
No. No fucking way. He didn't want to go near Sammy. Now a lot more than before. A few days ago, they might have tried to convince little Alpha that Castiel was just a rich man he happened to meet in the middle of the night in a store. Although even then it would be difficult considering the Alpha had his origins literally written on his body. Now Sam was absolutely sure who Castiel Novak was and what he was doing, and perhaps he knew a lot more than he had last said. And it was all Dean's fault because he didn't realize in time that his brother was like a real hound dog, and he sent him on a dangerous trail.
“I'll tell him it's a gift from you,” he agreed, though he wasn't sure he'd actually do it. He could still claim that he had seized the opportunity to steal a bag that someone would put away to take out their car keys.
Castiel nodded happily.
“Did you want to tell me something before? Before my brother so rudely interrupted us…” he asked, his intensely blue gaze curiously fixed on Dean.
No, he didn't want to say anything, he planned to blow him as a ‘show of gratitude’ for the two new iPhones. Maybe this was an incentive for him to do it now, but… no, it didn't really look like that. He'd already seen Alpha excited, like, half an hour ago, and now he didn't look that way. He didn't have pupils like saucers or a red tinge in his irises or a heavy, musky need in his scent.
"No, nothing..." he tried to shut it up completely, but the Alpha narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “I was just wondering… what if next time I took you somewhere?” it fell out of him to his own surprise.
“Take me somewhere?” he asked mistrustfully.
"Yes. I mean, on our next date.”
“Where?”
“That would be a surprise,” he added, probably to me , mentally, though… he once peered into a nice sports bar about a thirty-minute walk from a motel. He had a nice cold beer there, watched how well the regulars were playing pool and drooled over the wonderful looking burgers and wings that the waitress was carrying around him.
“I don't like surprises. They usually try to kill me.”
For anyone else, it would be a joke, but for Castiel, it was more of a statement of fact.
"It's a sports bar not far from here," he revealed for Alpj's peace of mind and also for his own, since he no longer had to think about where he was taking him.
Right That's okay,” he agreed, apparently reassured. “I'll leave the planning to you. Except Saturday from five in the afternoon to eight in the evening, when I am at mass, I will make time for you anytime. Just write the time and place where we will meet.”
When he forgot that the invitation was suspiciously easy, so… Mass? He glanced down at the massive golden cross on Castiel's chest. Well, it seemed he wasn't just there for the glamour, and as he guessed, the Alpha probably had a lot of sins to confess.
“Um, sure… so we're done?”
"Of course, Dean."
After another quick but warm kiss and wishing him a nice rest of the day, Alpha let him go. He stayed in the parking lot until Mercedes disappeared and then, laden with a bag of new phones, he set off through the parking lot. So halfway through, he thought Sammy might be better off accepting one gift just for him than two, so he took out his iPhone, put it in his pocket, and threw the box away along the way.
“Hey, puppy, I'm home and I brought you a present.
”"Gift?"
Sam emerged from the back, earpiece in one ear and thrown around the neck the other. He didn't answer him, he just put the bag on the table and let him open it himself and look inside. At first, the face of the little Alpha stretched out in surprise, before frowning again as his scent grew bitter.
“Where did you get that, Dean?” he turned to him. “You know what Dad said? You can't steal such expensive things. If you are caught…”
“I didn't steal it,” he refused, before resigning a bit: “My Alpha gave it to me for you.” He raised his hand to silence Sammy because he saw him breathing in to protest. “I know what you mean; that he's trying to bribe you and things like that, but he…” he hesitated, himself unsure if he was going to tell the truth or a lie, “I think he's just trying to be nice, okay?”
The Alpha continued to frown in disapproval, but looked into the bag again, and something like hope flashed in his eye and scent. And the more he looked into the bag, the more his face was smoothing, until he finally reached inside and pulled out the box. He still held her hesitantly in his hand, but he fixed a hopeful gaze on Dean, who tried to hide it under his frown.
"I do not like it..."
“If you don't want it, I'll take it and…” He reached for the box.
Sam immediately put her out of his reach. At first glance, it was clear that he had done it instinctively rather than intentionally.
“I didn't say I didn't want it, just that I didn't like it. Where does he get it?"
"Working... And I think his family is pretty rich,” he replied, which was technically true if he considered the Russian mafia to be his family… actually, sorry, Bratva. But Sam continued to frown. "Look, I can't give it back to him, but if you really don't want it, I'll sell it somewhere."
“No. When he bought it for me, I'll keep it, but you know... after this, you're really gonna have to introduce him to me. I want to thank him.”
“I'll ask,” he replied vaguely, rather than changing the subject: “Did you buy something to eat?”
Of course, the iPhone didn't stay forgotten in its box, and Sam spent the rest of the evening enthusiastically rehearsing it, but at least he had the decency to answer Dean's question about food before he almost tore the poor paper wrapper apart with a quiet growl on his lips.
Dean followed him with a small smile, and since his meetings with Castiel were worth nothing, at least it was Sam's puppy enthusiasm.
Notes:
kopeykova shlyukha - kopeyka is a low value coin. And shlyukha means prostitute. Same meaning as five dollar whore.
Pugal - Scarecrow. Medvedev's nickname. In his case, the nickname has a derogatory meaning, because although the scarecrow is scary at first glance, it is actually just straw, old clothes and a sack. Nothing to be afraid of.
Yagishna - In other words, also Baba Yaga; an evil witch from Slavic mythology. She is most often depicted as an old, gaunt woman who hunts down and eats travelers or children.
Net! Ne day Bog! - No! God forbid!
Ty khotite zakonchit' s prostrelennymi kolenyami? Zamolchi. I pust' mal'chik besitsya - Do you want to end up with shot knees? Shut up. And let the boy rage.
Ya slyshu tebya, brat’. Chto ty khotit? - I'm listening, brother. What you want?
Ya dolzhen ostanovit'sya, brat - I have to quit, brother.
Chapter Text
He certainly didn't watch enviously as Molly placed the last piece on the stack of perfectly folded clothes. Her work was damn near perfect, not an extra crease anywhere, and the chimney looked like she'd folded it according to a ruler.
Dean glanced at his own crumpled pile, then glanced around him - his gaze wandered to the adjacent table where Lisa was folding the last of the kids' shirts - and honestly, he didn't just feel stupid because, man, what was he doing here anyway? Mostly he felt incompetent, and that was much worse. He didn't need to be the best at folding clothes, after all, it was just that his Omega was giving him such mixed signals.
The whole folding freshly washed laundry thing was nothing new to him or his Omega, and it was kind of stereotypically comforting. Unfortunately, only until someone put him next to ten other Omegas and Betas and told him that he'd been doing it wrong all his life and that he should be just as good, if not better, than the others.
"Well done, Miss Blake. You did a really great job," Mrs. Taylor complimented Molly in that motherly sounding voice of hers that matched her scent perfectly; butter and peanuts. She was such a proper Omega. Not very tall, with wide hips and large boobs, quite pretty for someone who had to be in her late forties. She dressed in muted pastel colors, rolled her eyes at every Alpha she came across, had five puppies, and wore a collar half an inch wide around her neck. The kind with a big dog tag on the front that was impossible to miss. Generally saw quite a few Omegas with collars here in N.Y., but the ones that had them tended to have thin, subtle collars more like necklaces. The huge ones that literally screamed that the Omega was the 'property' of an Alpha he'd seen more in Texas, Oklahoma, or even his homeland of Kansas.
"That's very good, Mr. Winchester," Taylor uttered after she approached his desk and ran a quick glance over his work today, "but I see a potential for improvement here. See how I do it," she urged him before picking up the last of the baby onesies he hadn't folded yet and with a few quick and practiced movements, folded them perfectly to place them on the pile to Dean's right. "See? It's very easy, and I'm sure you can do it without a problem. You just have to practice more at home," she added encouragingly, all soft smiles and sweet scents, and then she just kept going.
To be honest, she folded so fast that he still didn't see how she made the onesies not look like they were first chewed by a cow and then folded. And he decided he didn't really care. He'd let Lisa talk him into this stupid class because he wanted to get under her shirt or, if he was lucky, into her pants, which not only didn't work, but actually... somehow didn't appeal to him the way he wanted it to. The chocolate color of her eyes reminded him of ice blue for some reason. Her sweet and cheerful smile turned a sharp grin glittering with gold. And the soft voice was drowned out by the husky baritone in his barrel.
Shit. Everything just reminded him of Alpha.
The doorbell rang.
Thank God.
He'd have liked to run out of the classroom right then and leave this shit behind, but he still had to return the folded clothes to the closet, which was harder than Lisa's considering how wrinkled they were. Luckily, Beta was waiting for him.
"Didn't you say something about it being fun?" He muttered as they made their way towards the dining room together.
Two days ago he had told Lisa it would be fun to sit together at lunch. She was a little surprised, but then agreed with a laugh and a blush. Except then she dragged her best friend Sarah along too. And then when Kevin and Becky joined in, they formed one of the few mixed tables. The funniest part was that Forest had to bite his tongue with his own fangs while he glared at them with hostility.
"You looked like you were enjoying it the last time we put together a family cookbook," Lisa replied.
Yeah, there was some truth to that. It was fun, and actually not just because he could scare Mrs. Taylor with frozen pizza with marshmallow or fish fingers with pudding and chocolate frosting. He always liked to organize things. He wrote shopping lists, rearranged things on the table or separated the coloured linen from the white. Putting together a cookbook was fun.
"A little," he admitted reluctantly.
"So you see." She smiled and moved closer so their elbows brushed against each other. "And you have nothing better to do anyway. I know damn well you'd be sitting outside this hour with your headphones in your ears. At least this way we're together."
He was saved from having to give her the benefit of the doubt a second time by Becky, who waved at them from the vending machine.
"Dean! Lis! You have to see this!" She waved her cell phone excitedly. "I found this in a group of nineties movie lovers. It's a nineties-style diner, complete with music from the era, plus a gaming room with old arcade machines. They have all the eighties and nineties classics, like Donkey Kong. And even if you get a certain score on the games, you get coupons for free snacks. Doesn't that sound fun? We could go there tonight."
"It looks great retro, but I gotta watch my little brother. What about after school tomorrow?" Lisa suggested.
"I have something tomorrow," he declined without thinking, realizing only belatedly that Alpha might not agree to dinner at the sports bar after all. It wasn't like they'd made a firm agreement. Dean had just preferred the Monday shift at the diner - Castiel hadn't protested, oddly enough - and this morning, on his way to school, he'd suggested Tuesday night. And since there wasn't one, and he'd texted Alf at a time when he was usually asleep, he hadn't gotten a yes or no answer yet, he just... hoped and assumed Cas would make time for him.
"It wouldn't be the same without you. Wednesday then?" Becky suggested.
He didn't argue against it.
"I'll ask Kev to come along," the other Omega added.
"Sure. And you," Lisa turned to him, "should bring Sammy. I see him with you outside the school, but I don't really know him properly."
"Wouldn't a little puppy like that just be a nuisance? I want to rock it nineties style, not have to babysit him," Becky pointed out.
"Sammy's never a nuisance," he defended sternly, frowning at the omega girl. "And he doesn't need anyone to look after him. If he's got his book and his phone, you won't even hear from him."
"Little Alphas his age can be a right nuisance," Becky replied incredulously.
He took a breath to tell her that Sam was definitely not one of those Alphas, but his mouth and nose were filled with the unpleasant smell of wet dirt. He asserted himself among the other scents with his familiarity and the fact that his Omega wasn't immediately irritated in anticipation of having to protect himself and his pups. And his upper lip tightened as he suppressed the urge to bar his teeth.
Marcus emerged from behind his shoulder, completely ignoring him on purpose as he squeezed between him and Lisa. It forced Dean to take a half step backwards, not in respect of the Alpha, but purely because he didn't want to take an elbow to the ribs. It was Becky who did what a proper Omega would do; she backed up a step and averted her gaze.
"Are we going to lunch, Lis? Barney's saving us seats," Marcus spoke only to the Beta girl, as if neither of the Omegas were there.
"I told you once before, Marcus. I'm having lunch with Dean now," Lis declined his invitation.
"You're not over that nonsense yet?" Alpha snorted irritably.
He squeezed between Marcus and the candy bar machine, forcing him to at least move away from Lisa, if not back away. He got dangerously close to Alf that way, in fact they were almost touching chests, and Dean's nose was literally filled with the strong smell of wet dirt and coal and rising anger and something else he couldn't describe. Perhaps he was more aware of the undertone of immaturity in Alf's scent, so used had he become to Castiel's decidedly mature and perfectly balanced scent. Or maybe Marcus just smelled.
"Look, Alpha," he used his designation as a taunt, "she clearly told you she wasn't interested. How about you quit? We were just discussing something and you weren't invited."
Marcus gritted his teeth and growled, as if perhaps he still thought that applied to Dean. At first he'd felt at least a small twinge of submissiveness, but now? Not even that. What was this little knot against his Alpha? An absolute zero. Just a speck on Castiel's sleeve. And even though he knew rationally that it would only bring him trouble if the Alpha's men actually 'took care of' Marcus, it didn't change the fact that his Omega absolutely despised the Alpha he was currently facing, because she already had her own Alpha that Forest wasn't even close to matching.
"Nobody's talking to you, Omega."
"No. In fact, no one here is talking to you. So get out."
He took a step forward to force Alpha to back up. In doing so, he didn't move his gaze, keeping his head up and his chest out in a perfect Alpha pose that he found easy and, as he knew all too well, very convincing. With his height, where he was looking directly into Marcus' eyes, and the not inconsiderable muscles in his chest and arms, he could very easily pretend to be Alpha. Only his scent gave him away, but it was still laced with an irritation bordering on anger.
As had happened to him several times, being able to pose and act like an Alpha could fool some Alphas, and Forest was no exception. He took a half step back, losing his superior mask for a moment in favor of confusion before growling a little again.
"Or what are you going to do, little bitch?" He bared his teeth. "You gonna send the guys you're fucking on me? You think I'm afraid of them?"
The initial confusion must have shown on his face because Marcus laughed.
"I've seen them with you and then at our house. I know very well what they are. If they come any closer, you're going to get it."
He knew from experience that if they didn't want to be seen by the Alpha men, they just weren't. And that with his father's training, he could be much more observant than a regular Alpha like Marcus. That meant that Castiel had opted for a very subtle warning. He'd simply let his men hang onto Forest's ass for a while to scare him. Apparently it hadn't worked enough on the little Alpha fucker.
"Yeah? And what are you going to do to me if I don't call them off?"
Marcus leaned over and rested his hand on the automatic next to Dean's head. He didn't take his eyes off the Alpha, even as he heard the creak of strained material as the Alpha gripped the corner of the automaton. If he squeezed hard enough, he could easily deform or even break it. Even though Alphas were at the top of the food ladder, so to speak, there were simply too few of them to make it worthwhile to make everyday items resistant to their increased strength. Except, of course, for things specifically designed for them. Every Alpha simply had to learn to deal with the fragile world around them and not rip the handles off shopping carts.
"Everyone knows how to tame rabid bitches like you."
Dean clenched his jaw and lifted his chin defiantly. When some knothead said that, he meant one thing.
"Are you threatening to bite me?"
"If you ask so nicely..." He growled derisively, opening his mouth just enough to show all his fangs, though they were still hidden in his gums, but it was still obvious enough what he meant.
Dean's first impulse was to just punch him in his ugly mouth and, with any luck, break his nose. He clenched his hand into a fist and his whole body tensed as he was about to use the small space to swing and actually do it, before a little voice in his head told him that wasn't a good idea. He'd get himself into real trouble. Punching Alf in the middle of the day, right there in the school hallway, was exactly the kind of disturbance that would definitely get his dad to show up at school. And since their Alpha was away and couldn't come, it would mean he and Sam would have to leave the school and the motel as well to avoid social services. At that point, Alpha Castiel would get involved in the whole thing and... damn. He'd have to think of some other way...
His gaze slid over Marcus' shoulder. The corridor was full of students, of course, so it was all too easy to see where the masses of bodies were parting at the far end as classmates dodged out of the way of some of the teaching staff. There was only one professor he knew who could get students to move all the way to the wall by his mere presence, clearing the way perfectly.
"Professor Hale!" He shouted loudly and desperately.
Marcus shut his mouth in surprise and flinched a little, obviously confused by the sudden change in Dean's demeanor and his tone.
"Believe me, I'm doing this for both our sakes," he hissed half-loudly as he pushed past Alpha into a clearer part of the corridor. "Professor Hale!" He called out a second time and, as he watched Marcus, he also caught out of the corner of his eye that the crowd of students to his left was parting faster as the named professor picked up his pace.
Moments later, Professor Hale emerged from between the ranks of the first onlookers who were beginning to wonder what was going on, bringing with him exactly the right Alpha aura that Dean needed on his side right now.
The professor may not have been as icily scary as Castiel or as physically intimidating as Dad, but despite his age, graying hair, and smaller belly arching over his jeans, he was naturally dominant. It wasn't hard to feign submissiveness. To bow his head and seek the apparent safety of his side.
"What's going on here?" The chemist asked, meeting the eyes of everyone involved with typical Alpha astuteness.
"Threatening to bite me, sir," he replied without looking up. A proper, humble Omega seeking refuge with the nearest Alpha he felt safe with. What Alpha could resist something like that? Teacher excluded.
"Is that true, Mr. Forest?" The older Alpha turned to the younger.
"No, sir, I said no such thing."
It was clear that Hale didn't believe him, because he approached with deliberate slowness, causing Marcus to back away, but at the same time look defiantly into his eyes. They sized each other up for a moment before the professor turned to Lisa.
"Do you have anything to say to me, miss?"
Lisa looked first at Marcus, who didn't dare take his eyes off Hal even though the older Alpha was no longer watching him, and then quickly glanced at Dean. He returned her gaze. Of course, there was... well, a pretty real chance that he wouldn't go up against Forest. She'd known him a lot longer than Dean had, and there was no arguing that the Alpha hadn't provoked his classmate with anything. On the other hand, not only was Lisa uncomfortable with Alf's interest, Becky had also witnessed the whole incident and she probably wouldn't hesitate for a moment to spill everything to the professor if he asked.
"He didn't say it directly, sir, but he certainly implied it clearly," Lisa finally said, not even mentioning the fact that Dean wasn't innocent in the whole argument or the strange people Marcus thought he was involved with.
Marcus growled in Lisa's direction.
"Enough, Mr. Forest," the professor admonished him and the younger Alpha immediately fell silent. "Threatening Omega classmates with a bite is considered a serious offense at this school. You will accompany me to the headmaster's office so we can call your father together. This needs to be dealt with strongly."
"I didn't do anything!" Marcus snapped even after the professor, his voice sounding like a growl born in his chest. "He asked for it!"
Even though Hal's scent was almost completely suppressed by the blockers, so that he could barely smell the lemon and hot asphalt, that last remark of Marcus's annoyed him so much that within seconds he filled the air around him with an angry aroma that made Becky recoil and Marcus duck his head.
"Don't you ever say something like that in front of me again, young man," the professor warned in a tone so deep it was almost a growl, but still not, then raised his hand and pointed firmly down the hallway. "Now, walk to the headmaster's office!"
Marcus sent one last angry look in Dean's direction, who returned it without blinking, then obeyed the professor's command and started down the corridor with Hal in tow. He followed them until they disappeared around the bend in the corridor and just as he was about to turn to the girls and say something, he noticed Lisa stand at his side and speak:
"I don't understand what's going on with him at all. He's not... he used to be like this." She shook her head in a clueless gesture. "He acted... stupid sometimes, but he never actually hurt anyone. But the way he acts now... the things he does to others... the way he treats me... that's why I broke up with him. I couldn't watch it anymore."
"That's true. He was never exactly friendly with Omegas, but I didn't think he ever threatened to bite one," Becky agreed.
"He's just an Alpha. What else would you expect from him?"
Lisa frowned at him.
"It's not nice of you to say that. It's like someone saying you're just an Omega."
"Sorry, but he's been acting like an angry, stuck-up jerk since I got here, and I've met dozens of them."
"I'm saying he wasn't like that before. Something must have happened to him," Lisa stated with firm conviction before stepping out into the hallway and leaving them standing there.
Dean turned to Becky, but she just shrugged and followed Lisa. He eventually followed them to have a rather quiet lunch together today.
°°0°°
Setting the dewy glass down on the coaster, he leaned back comfortably and slid his eyes over his men scattered around the table before reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the corner and pulling a lighter from his pocket.
"We should do that." He lit up, took a drag, and released a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "What's next?"
"My DEA contact came to me with this," Oleg volunteered, then reached across the table - to Vladek's angry growl because he'd nearly knocked over his beer - and set his iPad down in front of Castiel.
He pulled the iPad closer and began to slowly flip through the folder. It was a two-day-old coroner's report, dealing with the death of a nameless junkie. He could easily guess from the photos that it was a longtime crack smoker. Like all junkies, he was emaciated to the bone, his eyebrows and eyelashes singed, his fingertips and especially his lips burned from too hot a pipe, and he was missing almost all of his front teeth. Unconsciously, looking at this human filth, he remembered a similar one he had known twenty years ago when he was still selling. He had been a regular customer, only a few years older than Castiel himself, who had more than once offered his battered body for a shot on credit. Even if he hadn't been facing severe punishment for accepting such a payment, he would never have touched the dregs of society with a ten-foot pole. It was bad enough that he had to smell the stench of piss and shit, tinged with the musty musky smell of Alpha wafting off him. Though there was something morbidly fascinating about him staggering in for his last hit, his hands and lips burnt to a crisp and covered in molten plastic as he tried to smoke the stuff out of some plastic tube and it burst into flames.
He took a drag from his cigarette.
Other than memories of his youth, he saw nothing of interest to him in the photos or the whole case. Customers were dropping like flies. He probably didn't go a week without at least one dying, which didn't matter at all because someone else took his place immediately. If times were good, two or three. They didn't have to worry about customers dying off.
"Why am I looking at pictures of dead junkies?" He asked, pushing his tablet a little further away from him as he did so.
"Look at the contents of her stomach, boss."
He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but pulled iPad back up and started looking for the item mentioned in the autopsy report. There were usually three or four items to be found in the stomachs of junkies. First and most often; nothing. Second, pills of all sorts, which they used to try to manage withdrawal when they didn't have a dose of their own, or trip properly. Third, five to ten standard menus from some fast food joint if they had a bout of gluttony. And finally, on rare occasions, various indigestible items, ranging from their own hair, to false nails or cigarette butts, to bits of tires.
This junkie was the second type. The pathologist found two undigested pills in his intestines, on which the logo was still perfectly visible, but completely unknown to Castiel. A triangle with a sort of rune in it, like a square S in the Latin alphabet. It wasn't like any brand he'd ever seen, either here in New York or back home, or anything he'd ever even heard of. Either there was a new player in the market or one of the old ones was trying to cover their tracks, which would point more to one of their allies rather than competitors.
He slid his gaze to the chemical analysis of the pill, expecting to see the formula of one of the usual street drugs, but what he saw made him first raise an eyebrow in surprise and then frown.
"Alpha enzymes and methadone," he read aloud, then looked pointedly at Oleg. "He had Carmine in his stomach...? Where did a poor street fry like that get his hands on Carmine?"
There were a few things his predecessor was willing to do and sell that Castiel couldn't abide in his territory. The production and sale of child pornography and child prostitution was the first of those things. All of their girls and boys, whether they were hooking, dancing, making video chats or acting in movies, had to be at least fifteen. He was willing to turn a blind eye when they were a month or two under fifteen, but never less.
The latter were drugs that contained Alpha enzymes. They suppressed submissive tendencies in Omegas and brought heady feelings of superiority and strength and courage and confidence in Betas, all without the usual side effects of other drugs, except those associated with added opiates.
But with Alf? They reinforced their natural aggressiveness and reduced self-control, which easily ended in loss of control. And slipping into a full Alpha rage that lasted not minutes, but hours of fury.
Castiel loathed Alpha enzyme junkies more than he did the usual junkies, and he certainly didn't consider it safe to have a drug that made murderous monsters out of his customers. Wonder what would ensue in any of their dance clubs, strip clubs or brothels, or even Blue Sky if an Alpha there lost control under the influence of Ruby dope? Massacre, bloodshed, police investigations... They'd lose more than they'd make from selling Ruby.
Not to mention that Alpha enzyme drugs were at the very top of the international list of the most dangerous drugs, and as soon as Carmine or drugs like it hit the streets, the police immediately launched the most stringent measures. Massive raids, arrests, checks in nightclubs and on the streets. All sectors of the trade were affected, not just the sale of drugs. Even these two fucking undigested pills meant that for the next three or four weeks there would be more police bitches on his territory than in the last six months combined.
And just to avoid all the trouble, he didn't just ban the sale of Carmine in his territory. He's also formed an alliance with the Italians, the Koreans and the Mystic Shadows, and together they've pushed Alpha-enzyme drugs out of the New York market. It was a tough fight, with the Yakuza and Alastair standing against them, but they eventually got their way and cleared the city of Carmine and all drugs like it. There's been a couple of times in the last two years when someone's tried to get some Ruby crumb on the market or start manufacturing it. Mainly niggers thought they had a chance to fill a hole in the demand. Two Skulls and Five Cents tried, but they didn't have the resources or the knowledge to make it work. And they didn't even have rich enough customers who could afford to buy Crimson on a regular basis, so it would end up costing them more to produce and sell than they could make. They just had big mouths and shouted a lot about the fact that no one had invited them to negotiate the phasing out of one entire line of products.
"I don't know, batyushka" Oleg replied.
"'So it appeared in that junkie's stomach by magic? Is that what you're telling me?" He replied coldly as he pushed the iPad away. "It cost us a chunk of territory and half a year of war to get this dangerous stuff out of our city and secure a room from the police bitches. And you're just going to tell me you don't know where Crimson came from?"
"We've asked all the dealers, the regulars, the hookers and their clients, and we've beaten the shit out of a few people, but they all say the same thing. You can't get Carmine in this town. That trash would have to go out of town to get it, but from what I hear, he's been able to piss in his own pants. He probably couldn't even find the station unless someone gave him a ride." He leaned forward and rested his elbow on the table. "My opinion is that someone's trying to set the cops on us and then piss in our business. And I'd bet my ass on the Italians."
"Crowley never sold stuff with the Alpha enzyme. He's of the same opinion I am, which is that the profits from selling Carmine don't outweigh the problems it brings."
"I agree. Crowley is just a wet omega ass. He doesn't have the balls to take on something so dangerous," Vladko chuckled.
He gave Vladek a sharp look. And he was surprised himself that he did. He never minded when his men made fun of Crowley or outright insulted him. He was a little Omega shit, and Castiel would probably be much happier if he'd never met him. Unfortunately, he was also the don of the largest and most powerful Italian clan operating in the city, and it was better to have him as an ally than an enemy. And yes, that meant keeping the taunts of his men safe and private in such places as the back room of the Dollhouse or Blue Sky. But that wasn't why Vladek's remark had alarmed him so much and made his Alpha growl softly in defense. This was about Dean. How could he trust the safety of his Omega in the hands of men who thought so lowly of another Omega?
"I don't think he'd want to sell himself. He dumped the bitch on our doorstep," Oleg nodded to the iPad lying on the table, "to set the cops on us. He's hoping it'll weaken us and then he can expand into our territory."
"Since when are you such a cowardly little shit that you're afraid of the cops?" Pyotr asked conversationally.
"I'm not afraid of anything," Oleg replied sharply, "I'm just telling it like I think it is."
"I don't think the Italians are behind this, but you'll be right about the trap. Someone like him could never afford Ruby drob. Either he stole it from someone or someone gave it to him on purpose. Either way, it's a problem," Castiel agreed. "After this," he tapped his finger on the iPad, "cops swarm like wasps. For us, it means we'll have to suspend all the big stores for a few weeks, pull some of the vendors off the streets, and cut back on other activities if we want to prevent our men and employees from being arrested and having their merchandise confiscated. And to limit the financial losses that await us anyway. Not to mention the fact that I personally will be the laughing stock of everyone when word gets out that I let someone sell Ruby crumbs on my territory. Do you realize that?"
"Yes, boss. I understand what that means..."
"No! You don't understand what it means at all. My reputation is what I staked in the deal with Crowley, the Shadows and the Koreans. Now it's going to look like I can't even get my own territory in order," he interrupted his incipient attempt at an excuse, deliberately letting some of the anger that his inner Alpha prized his teeth with seep into his voice. They were in for a few weeks of completely unnecessary trouble that could have been avoided if the Beta had been more attentive to his job. He had a hundred urges to break a few of his fingers, but rational thought won out over instinct. Things didn't always go according to plan and Oleg did his job well, he was loyal to the Bratva and he was loyal to Castiel himself. For once he had been careless in letting Carmine seep into their market and even into the hands of the police, but to punish him too harshly would bring more trouble than good.
Oleg bowed his head in humility,
"I'm sorry, Alpha. I'll take care of it myself. I'll find the guy who sold out the dead junkie and get whoever's behind all this off him. I swear on my mother's grave."
"Okay. I'll take your word for it, Oleg," he nodded, looking at him seriously. "You won't let me down, will you?"
"Never, boss," he assured him fervently.
"Good. I want you to inform me as soon as you find out anything, do you understand? I don't want rampaging, drugged-up Alphas on my territory."
"Understood."
"Good. Oh, and.... for three months, I'm cutting your pay by a third. Surely you understand why?" he asked, to which Beta just nodded in agreement. He realized that not allowing anyone to sell on their territory without proper payment of their share was his main job. And keeping Crimson out of town too. Castiel took one last drag from his cigarette and, while blowing out the smoke, smothered it in the ashtray. "Anyone else have any unpleasant news?" He asked, looking up from the butt drowning in the mass of ash along with the other butts from that evening.
His men exchanged quick glances, but none of them spoke up.
"In that case, we're done for the day," he decided, reaching for the bottle of vodka and the glasses set out on a small metal tray. "Let us toast together," he began to pour generously into each glass, "to all our successes to date, and may fortune stick with us in the somewhat rough times ahead." He stood, raising his glass, and his men followed suit. "God bless! And cheers!"
"Cheers!" his men replied in chorus.
They emptied their glasses together in one gulp.
"Vadim..." he addressed Beth sitting by the door. "Tell the kitchen they can bring them to the table. And someone turn off the jammer..." he ordered with a vague wave of his hand before sitting back down.
Vadim just leaned out the door, called to the bar, and a moment later Ulyana Leonidovna herself was rushing in, plates full and fragrant, her daughter in tow, laden with more food. Sometime between the two women setting the food out on the table for them, Vadim turned off the jammer. Almost immediately, to his certain surprise, Castiel's phone beeped like crazy as one stuck message after another came in. He wasn't used to being paged this late on an American phone.
He looked at the screen and saw that all the messages were from Dean.
His Alpha immediately became alert, all tense, teeth bared and ready to protect, bite and tear if necessary. Castiel pushed him to the back of, because unnecessarily many messages meant nothing - Gabriel could easily send dozens of drunken messages during his parties, flooding the chat with blurry snapshots of ladies' and men's asses in swimsuits - and opened the conversation.
Dean: ketchup
Dean: ketchup saves everything
Dean: BeBe didn't come
Dean: I have to deliver 🤬
Dean: I'm supposed to have a uniform!!!!!!
Dean: they don't have a second men's
Dean: I might get a mini
Dean: 😂 😂 😂
Dean: just an apron
Dean: 😤😤😤😤
Dean: shitty tip
Dean: I think I'm gonna poke someone's eye out with a fork
Dean: 🤔 Can you get me out of jail?
Dean: just kidding
Dean: still at the diner
Dean: Alpha?
Dean: hello?
Dean: sleeping beauty?
Dean: is everything okay?
Dean: are you dead?
He raised an eyebrow at the last bit of news. How exactly did Omega think he would have answered him if he was really dead? And why had he come to the conclusion that he was dead just because he wasn't answering him... he glanced at his watch and realized that it had been almost three hours since he had come to the Dollhouse.
He placed his fingers on the keypad when the phone in his hand buzzed and Dean's name popped up on the screen.
He wasn't interested in talking to Omega in front of his men, regardless of the fact that someone had already managed to turn on the hockey game and the room was too noisy to talk on the phone because of it.
He leaned over to Pyotr and said:
"I'm going to take this outside."
The burly Beta nodded in agreement.
He left the room through the door Vadim had held open for him, and on his way past the bar, he caught out of the corner of his eye that Boris had risen from the barstool from which he had been watching the game and followed him outside the pub. But when he saw that Castiel had his cell phone in his hand and was about to make a call, he quickly moved to a polite distance.
"Hello, Dean."
There was a slowly lengthening silence on the other end of the line, but there was definitely someone there. He could hear Dean's breathing quicken, as if surprised or frightened.
"Um... Alpha... hi," finally came Omega's somewhat puzzled voice. "You picked up..."
He frowned in confusion.
"You're calling me. Of course I picked up. Do you need anything?"
There followed another pause during which he could hear a mixture of the sounds of the diner's night traffic, consisting mainly of faint music, a few voices and the very distant sounds of car traffic, and Dean's breathing.
"Nothing," he got another delayed reply, spoken in a sort of strange tone that confused him even more. Did his Omega need something and was reluctant to ask? Was he in danger and unable to speak? These were thoughts that rushed into his head on their own, unexpected and unwelcome, and made his Alpha shift nervously in his seat and growl softly. Rationally, he knew that his men still had Dean under surveillance, so nothing could happen that he didn't know about, but Omega just sounded strange.
"Is everything alright, Omega?"
"Yeah!" This time the answer was immediate. "Everything okay with you too?"
"Sure."
"Good. That's good," he said again in that strange tone, again remaining silent for a moment before speaking. "You didn't write back."
"I was in a business meeting."
"Oh, I see. All right." This time Dean sounded almost normal. "I've been.... for a while. Dean! You got the order!" A distant female voice interrupted him mid-sentence. "I have to go, Alpha. I'm at work and I can't talk. Bye."
"Okay. Bye."
He frowned at the screen, which already had a picture of a half-naked Henry Cavill in place of Dean's name, and wondered if this was the strangest conversation he'd ever had with anyone, or if he'd had some stranger ones. And he felt even more confused than when he'd read Omega's texts. It didn't seem like he wanted or needed anything, and certainly not that he was in any danger. He just... called... completely unnecessarily, only to hang up again after barely two minutes of mostly silence.
Castiel growled half angrily and shoved his phone into his pocket.
Omega could be so frustrating.
Being with him was like breathing paradise gas. His aroma, his smile, the sparkle in his green eyes, the freckles scattered across his face and smooth neck that he had set on offer several times, it was all literally like a drug. It was intoxicating. And that Castiel knew what it meant to get high. But at the same time, every time they seemed to actually be getting somewhere, Dean just froze like a scared rabbit, his sweet scent of apple and pine resin filled with a wicked undertone of fear. The most frustrating part was not being able to figure out what was scaring Omega so much. It always happened without any cause. They were having a good time, joking, flirting, Dean smelled of contentment and happiness, and then it was as if something in Omegas' brain short-circuited and suddenly, with the snap of a finger, his behavior changed.
Just like during their last date.
When Dean had pulled him to him, there had been no doubt what he wanted, and the strong scent of an aroused Omega only confirmed it. He could already see him in his bed. Naked, flushed, sweaty and begging for more, and himself with his head between his thighs. He could imagine his nice cock just long and thick enough to fill his mouth and press pleasurably against his palate, a perfect match for the muscular thighs he sensed under Dean's loose jeans. And he could totally hear the sounds he'd make as he sucked. The perfect end to a pleasant afternoon.
He was sure Omega was thinking the same thing, but the short walk to the car was all it took for all the sweet scent of arousal to waft away and be replaced by a much less pleasant smell. He'd thought the gift would fix it, but in reality it only made it worse.
Of course, their encounter hadn't been the happiest, but Castiel had done his best since then to demonstrate the purity and, more importantly, the seriousness of his intentions. He'd seen to Dean's safety, made him as comfortable as their complicated situation allowed, given him all the freedom that such a wild Omega could ask for, been patient, even gentle, though it wasn't a natural part of his nature, but none of it was enough. He'd expected at least a small show of gratitude. A small token of appreciation for the effort. Instead, he was getting the exact opposite, and it was beginning to irritate him.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He should be thinking about the next few weeks of losses and which of their competitors and allies alike had the resources to produce or at least import Ruby, as well as the reasons to want to start a war, rather than Dean and his senseless behavior.
The first thing he began to consider was that the Japanese or Alastair had gone back to selling. Except that back then, years ago, they were not only selling, they were manufacturing. And he was convinced that they would return to manufacturing, if only to show their arrogance and power and spit in the face of the entire Pact. Except... getting premises, but more importantly equipment and cooks for something as complex and expensive as the Crimson was not so easy, and with the proper contacts - which they had - quite easy to track down. This was no ordinary meth that even a slightly more adept high school student could cook up in his own garage.
For that reason, he automatically ruled out The Shadows. Their strength lay mainly in quantity and wanton brutality, and their main stock-in-trade was meth, heroin and coke, and murder-for-hire (very dirty work. Castiel would never dream of carrying out a job with a baseball bat and nails and barbed wire, no matter how iconic it supposedly was) and stealing cars, dismantling them and selling off the parts.
The Koreans and Italians could get everything they needed, but neither had ever tried to make or sell Carmine before, even though they were able to compete with the Japanese and Alastair. And, of course, Castiel's own people at the time.
So he couldn't rule out the possibility that someone was manufacturing in their city, but he'd bet more on imports from outside, since they always found out about someone building a lab for Carmine before they could get it up and running.
The question was who?
The door of the pub opened, sending a blast of warm air hitting his face and the echoes of the match coming on the television along with the chatter and clinking of dishes hitting his ears for a change. He looked around at all the sounds and saw that Pyotr had come out.
"Everything okay, boss?" The hulking Beta asked while still holding the door open.
"I had to make a short call," he assured, heading back to the door.
"Young Mr. Winchester?" he asked a little curtly as he was obviously trying to give Dean the proper respect, but he didn't know how to properly speak of someone three times his age.
"Yes," he nodded, and a moment later a chorus of half curses and half shouts of victory came from the pub. He glanced over Pyotr's shoulder at the screen, but unfortunately the bad angle didn't allow him to read the scoreboard that had just popped up on the screen. "Who wins?"
"Last time it was the Finns..." growled Beta absently as he squinted at the scoreboard as well.
At least something good had happened today.
"Great. I bet five on them."
"I only bet two. I didn't really like the way they played last time. Remember how...", Pyotr launched into a commentary on the Finnish strategy in the last game as he retreated back into the warmth of the pub.
Castiel followed him, and for the moment at least, he focused on what Beta thought of the Finnish referee, instead of worrying about business or his omega.
Chapter 13
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Castiel: Do you want me to pick you up in the car today or should we walk?
There was nothing at all strange about the questions so there was no reason to hesitate in answering, but after yesterday's little bout of omega hysteria where he'd embarrassed himself with the amount of messages, Dean was wary of how he answered Alf today. He tried to make his texts sound... normal.
He himself didn't even know what had happened yesterday. Sure, he'd gotten used to a certain rhythm with Castiel. Alpha always answered him before he left for school and then in the afternoon, but he could keep talking until three in the morning and never forgot to say goodbye to going to bed. That's why it was a little strange that he didn't get answers from Alpha for hours after eight in the evening for his occasional outbursts of frustration over working at the diner.
He figured right away that he probably didn't want to be disturbed, so he turned on airplane mode or something. As he passed the food between the tables, he wondered what Alpha was probably doing. First he thought of a properly wild party at Blue Sky, a thought that made his Omega growl furiously at the thought of the beautiful Omegas that must have been there with Alpha. He didn't even know why he pictured them there. And why they annoyed him so much. So he'd rather suppressed that vision so he didn't have to deal with a feeling that was too much like jealousy and fixated on something else.
And, my friend, that's when the trouble came.
First it was the humorous images of Alpha sitting in a smoky room with other mob bosses, plotting to take over the city. They were all wearing expensive suits and holding fat cigars, just like in the old gangster movies.
Then his thoughts turned to something more believable and he pictured Alpha in the same old harbor warehouse where he'd had him brought in, cutting someone with a chainsaw or sticking toothpicks under their fingernails. But in the end... in the end he imagined Alpha lying dead. Dead and betrayed by his own people, shot by the police or killed by some other mobster.
It could have been stupidly funny and it should have been. He should have brushed it aside with a contemptuous snort as nonsense. Only his instincts suddenly went haywire and his Omega panicked like perhaps never before. He could absolutely hear her howling over and over, dead, dead, as if Castiel lay lifeless in a pool of blood before him.
Finally, he managed to push the feeling away, pushing Omega back and calming himself down, because he certainly wasn't going to be some hysteric who broke down in the middle of her shift just because of bad thoughts. But when Bill offered him a chowdah, he didn't refuse for once, enjoying the pleasant numbness progressing through his brain. It made him feel a lot calmer, but only until his phone vibrated in his pocket, announcing that the messages had finally been delivered.
Without a single hesitation, he dialed Alf's number, and when Castiel actually picked up, he didn't really know what to say. He just felt like a fool or a pervert sniffing the phone. At least hearing his voice and the reassurance that everything was okay really calmed Dean's inner Omega at last.
He was angry at himself for this stupid behavior and, as always, hated the nonsensical Omega biology that had caused all this. It made him forget too often that he and Castiel... that it wasn't real.
Dean: car
Dean: 😜
He finally typed out a reply, suitably elated of course, lest Alpha think he was still the stupidly needy Omega he was yesterday. He'd probably like that. Which Alpha wasn't impressed with an Omega hanging on him, but Dean wasn't about to admit it. He'd rather cut off his own right hand.
Castil: Okay. I'll be at the entrance to the car park at six.
Dean: 👍
He looked at the time. It was only 4:30 pm. Just enough time for him to heat up the pizza for Sammy and make sure he ate it properly before he had to go get ready. He needed to shave before the date. His beard may have been growing thin and slow (and it always would, being an Omega), but this morning he already looked like he'd smeared something on his chin and upper lip.
He put his phone down on the table and went to get the pizza out of the freezer. Just as he was ripping open the wrapper, Sam came out of the bathroom.
He picked up the last apple lying on the counter, half tucked in the bag, and threw it at him. The little Alpha caught it deftly with one hand. If he wasn't such a little nerd, he would have made a great baseball player.
"I'm going to make pizza. Eat an apple so you can get some vitamins."
"It's early enough to eat," Sam pointed out, but he sat down at the table and bit into the apple.
"I won't be here tonight," he replied icily, sticking the pizza in the microwave. "Set it up."
"Are you going somewhere with him?"
"Yeah."
"Is he coming to get you?" He continued to question as he set out plates and glasses.
He glanced over his shoulder, just to check that he was, Sammy's face feigning casualness, just staring at the glasses he was setting out and gripping the apple tightly. It was immediately clear that if he'd told him he was coming, he'd have wanted to meet him.
"No. I'm going to him," he lied, not wanting to have to introduce his brother to Alf.
Sam looked up at him sharply, as if surprised by the answer, but then he averted his gaze towards the fridge he'd also gone to to get the juice out of.
"So..." stretched Sam, box in hand, and stared at Dean. "You'll be spending the night with him?"
He didn't answer right away, preferring to focus on the spinning pizza.
Sammy asked a damn good question. They'd seen each other twice now, not counting their first meeting and then the trip in the trunk of the car, and in all that time they'd gotten no further than kissing and some minor groping. This was their third date. He'd never had a third date with anyone without touching skin. Damn it. I mean, he'd never had a third date like ever.
Either his rough charm got him much further the first time or, and this was more common, they left town before any third date could happen. On the few occasions when they stayed somewhere for a long time... well, let's just say kissing in the backseat of Baby was fine. Holding hands in a school hallway, not so much. Not that he'd counted on Alpha Castiel wanting to hold hands, but he hadn't counted on holding back either. Even back then in the warehouse, he had half expected not to follow Sam back to the motel, and he certainly hadn't counted on coming back with an ass as virginal as the one he'd woken up with that morning.
So yeah, Sammy was right, he was definitely going to spend the night with Castiel tonight and if he didn't, he was probably going to start believing in goblins, werewolves and aliens. Because it would be a miracle for any Alpha to last that long next to an available Omega and no knocked him.
"Probably."
"Okay," Sammy muttered along with the cloud of scent of worry rising around him. "You're... safe with him, aren't you?"
He suppressed a chuckle.
Every time he'd been with the Alpha, at least two of his men had been in sight with guns at their waists, and two more had been on Dean's tail for days. Probably not even the President was that guarded. Except they weren't just guarding him from anyone who, who knows why, might want to do something to him. They were making sure he didn't run off and do something to Castiel. Not that he'd want to do anything to him. But he certainly did, it was very ironically safe around Alpha.
"Going out with Alpha has one advantage; shrunken knots don't dare."
"That's not what I meant," Sam retorted; Dean gave him a look away from taking out his pizza. Not only did the little Alpha look insecure, he also reeked of severe embarrassment. "I meant... if you... protect yourself when you're with him."
It took him a second to realize what Sammy was getting at.
"Wow...! Are you asking if we use an rubber?" He asked, gloating as he watched the puppy's cheeks turn red and enjoyed the whiff of utter despair and humiliation, but it was at odds with the suddenly determined look Sam was putting on.
"You know there's up to a one and a half percent chance that Omega will get pregnant out of cycle?" He said, though with a question mark, but in that thoughtful tone of his that, as always, made Dean roll his eyes.
"Don't worry about that. We're not at home base yet," he brushed off his concerns and set the freshly baked pizza on the table.
"You should think about that before it comes to...you know..." he didn't let Sam retort.
"I mean, okay? I'm stocked up."
That wasn't exactly a lie, because he had a couple of standard Beta-sized condoms he used himself somewhere in his pockets. Good thing nature had been as generous with his Omega in that department as it had been in height or muscle, or he'd have had to suck cock in horrible coloured tea bags. Oh, and they made condoms in bright colours to appeal to all Omegas, and the range was so small that it all fit on one narrow shelf. In some small towns and remote gas stations they didn't even have any. Just, sorry buddy, only one in fifteen Omegas are male, so there are too few of you to make it worth wasting money and ideas. And anyway... why would a male Omega need a condom anyway? After all, they were mostly interested in having Alphas of both genders fill their asses with their big dicks and knots.
So technically he had condoms, just...
There was a little problem. Regular size beta condoms were not recommended for Alphas, not only for comfort, but mainly because of the possibility of breaking during knotting. So unless Castiel had a really small canary for an Alpha - and he damn well didn't. More like an anaconda of perfectly standard Alpha proportions - or a strange desire to get fucked by an Omega - not that he'd resisted that option tooth and nail - so they couldn't use them. And Dean hadn't thought of that until now. In fact, he hadn't thought about any protection at all.
Sam was right. He should get some condoms, preferably today. He couldn't count on Castiel having any. Best to always be prepared, just like his dad had taught him. No rubber, no love.
"I'll have a piece and then I'll head out," he announced, putting a piece on his plate.
Sam grumbled in agreement and dragged the rest of the pizza onto his plate.
°°0°°
"... but the worst thing is that it will take three days longer. I wanted to break both his arms for that," Gabriel said and paused.
His silence stretched, causing Castiel to look over his shoulder to the stand that held his cell phone. On the screen was Gabriel's head, a bit of bare chest and shoulders, and behind him was the edge of the hot tub the other Alpha had been sitting in for the entire call, sipping a mimosa.
"And?" He prompted before turning back to his shirts.
His brother was mostly doing fine on his own in the discussion. He literally couldn't shut up, even when it was absolutely necessary. But occasionally he paused in anticipation of a reaction. Usually a hum, a grunt, or a murmur of assent or refusal was all he needed, but sometimes he demanded a little more significant prompting. Exceptionally, a real response.
"What?"
"Did you break his arms?" He asked, pulling out one of his shirts and starting to dress.
"Of course not...! Kali and I had a reservation, so I didn't have time to clean up the corpse," Gabriel replied casually. "But I did something far worse; I strongly advised against it to our neighbors."
He frowned through the mirror he was adjusting his collar in front of at the small reflection of his cell phone screen.
"That's it? You called me to tell me you didn't kill the guy who installed the wrong sound system for your new backyard gazebo?"
Gabriel shrugged.
"What can I say... I just wanted to see my favorite little brother."
"I'm your only younger brother," he reminded, adding the last button and looking himself over critically from head to toe. Since this shirt looked acceptable, he walked over to the drawers of cufflinks, watches, and other jewelry to pick one out. Unfortunately, the phone stand was right on top of the jewelry case, so he got dangerously close to Gabriel's prying eyes.
He ignored his brother's intent look and calmly chose the gold pins with the rough finish that weren't so noticeable. He also opted for a more understated watch, exchanging his usual cross for a smaller and older one that had been consecrated for him by the still old Pop Alexander Sergeyevich - may the Lord rest his soul by his side - back home in Moscow, and which had lost its luster through years of use.
Whichever of the three sports bars Dean had planned to take him to that were near his motel, none of them were the kind of establishments where people who wore gold cufflinks went. And since he planned to enjoy tonight, he tried to dress in a way that wouldn't draw undue attention. Part of the reason was that Dean's motel was too close to the edge of their territory, and at the moment he didn't want anyone to know who he was hanging out with. Whether competitors, allies, or government bitches. The longer his Omega remained anonymous, the better.
"That's the third shirt you've tried on. If I didn't know you, I'd think you were going on a date," Gabriel commented amusedly.
He paused slightly in the middle of fastening the button.
"And if I was?"
"I'd call Hell and ask if they'd gotten any snow."
He looked up into Gabriel's eyes and tilted his head a little.
"Wait a minute...you're seeing someone?" said Gabriel incredulously, and when Castiel nodded in agreement, he set his glass down on the edge of the hot tub and grabbed his phone with both hands. His image swayed as he rose from his comfortable semi-reclining position to a sitting position. "And he's a real, live person who knows you two are on a date tonight?"
"Of course he's a real, live person. And what do you mean, does he know we're meeting today?"
"Nothing, absolutely nothing, just... don't get me wrong, Cas. You're my brother, and I love you with all my heart," he put his hand theatrically on his chest, "but ever since I've known you, I know you're a bit of a strange bird. The kind that nails little animals to the fence and sets them on fire. I never thought you'd find someone to spend more than a night or two of hot horizontal mambo with."
He squinted slightly.
"Is that what you really think of me, Gabriel?"
"Well..." the other Alpha shook his head. "There's Balth, of course, but..."
He frowned in incomprehension.
"What does Balthazar have to do with all this?"
The other Alpha gave him a longer, somewhat searching look before shaking his head.
"Obviously nothing," he said finally. "I was just under the impression for a while... Well, whatever. My fault. I guess I was wrong. Embarrassing!" He added cheerfully, not looking embarrassed of course, because the last thing on Gabriel's mind was shame. He even had more conscience than shame.
Nevertheless, he understood what Gabriel meant, he just didn't understand where he got the silly notion that he and Balthazar were a couple. He'd probably be willing to call Beta his friend, but first and foremost he owned him. Ever since he'd bought him out of the Black Lily circle, he'd been his property. A personal whore with more freedom than any of his girls had, but he was still nothing more than a nice, lithe body he liked to enjoy in bed.
Perhaps Balthazar had hinted otherwise to Gabriel because he was confused by the marks he had a habit of appropriating, but no matter how satisfying it was to see Balthazar with his marks on his throat, it didn't mean they were a couple.
He should talk to Balthazar and explain to him that he shouldn't be spreading such delusions around. And he should do it firmly. Especially lately, Beta had been acting like an angry bitch and Castiel was slowly running out of patience with him.
"I pay Balthazar to keep me company and spend my rut with me. That's all. We're not a couple."
"But he's the only one of your... male friends," he chose his words carefully, because, although Gabriel was the most tolerant of all the brothers of his inclinations, there were still times when he felt uncomfortable, "with whom you've been sleeping for three years. That's why I thought it was serious."
"Well, now you know it isn't," he concluded these useless and mostly gratuitous speculations and pulled out his watch drawer. With a quick glance he glanced over the top row, which contained watches with metal bands, both gold and steel. He ignored the next two, which had watches with distinctive gold dials, and glanced down to the last two, which had much more subtle pieces, and began to choose between them.
"And this one... new," he ran his eyes over Castiel from head to toe. "Shaved, fresh manicure, parading around like a peacock." This time it was Castiel's turn to cast his brother a cold stare. "Who the hell is he to make all this worth your while?"
He hesitated.
He knew full well what Gabriel thought of the True Mates. Telling him what Dean was to him was like putting a gun in the other Alpha's hand loaded with would-be witty remarks and taunts that Castiel didn't want to spoil his evening with. Unfortunately, Gabriel was also his brother, so he would have met Dean sooner or later anyway. Besides, now that he knew someone existed, he would certainly make every effort to find out who Dean was. He had to at least tell him something.
"He's different," he replied vaguely, then hesitated briefly before deciding to add, "And he's an Omega."
The urge to brag about it was simply stronger than he was.
"An Omega, like a real Omega? A young, fertile one who could unleash half a dozen little Ivans into the world?" Gabriel repeated incredulously, knowing of course of Castiel's 'senseless and unnatural distaste' for Omega men, as Michael had once put it. And for which he also repeatedly and appropriately criticized him practically whenever the opportunity presented itself. And in a way, he had good reasons.
With none of them having any offspring that he knew of, and two of their three brothers in prison for life, it was looking more and more like their bloodline was headed for extinction. The only one of their brothers not imprisoned; Raphael, though Alpha, was a model of asceticism. And Gabriel had let it be known on more than one occasion that the last thing he wanted in life was a puppy, so he was always careful to dispose of any potential consequences early. This left a sort of unwritten obligation to keep the blood flowing on Castiel, the least appropriate choice of all.
The most ironic part of it all was that he was the only one of them who ever really considered puppies. Not only did he not have the slightest interest in women of any secondary sex. He even sometimes had trouble staying in the same room with them because of their smell. And unfortunately, it wasn't much better with the male Omegas. Female Alphas were the most desirable of the options for him, but even if he was willing to dope himself up with Viagra and cocaine to be able to do anything at all, the likelihood of two Alphas conceiving a puppy together was minimal. He just didn't stand a chance until... until he met Dean.
"Yes, the real Omega. Are there any other than real Omegas?"
"We're in America. Anything is possible here." The other Alpha shrugged. "What's his name?"
"Dean." The corners of his mouth twitched in a small smile as he said Omega's name.
A look of surprise crossed Gabriel's face.
"You're smiling!" he said in disbelief.
He furrowed his brows and cocked his head to one side in unspoken question and incomprehension.
"You never smile."
"Of course I smile," he argued, slightly offended but mostly uncomprehending.
He realized he wasn't the most pleasant, smiley, or funny person in the world. He also disliked useless talk, hated fools and had no patience with them, was austere and perhaps a little reserved, and was not usually in the habit of embellishing the truth or sparing anyone's feelings. In fact, he didn't even particularly care for most people. So he wasn't like Gabriel, who could dazzle with wit and come across as a friendly, Florida playboy with wild Russian roots, but... he wasn't that bad. Was it?
"No, you're not smiling. Not like that," he pointed a finger at his face. "You grin, you appreciate fangs, you sometimes have the smile of a sad clown, but you never smile like a normal human being."
"I laugh like - " he paused, unwilling to get into another pointless argument about nothing with his brother. Instead, with a bit of a resigned sigh, he asked, "What are we even talking about here, Gabriel?"
"About what?" The other Alpha chuckled. "Little brother... I've literally witnessed men pissing their own pants in horror because you smiled at them."
That was... technically true, but the losers Gabriel was talking about could hardly be called men. They were brainwashed wrecks or cowardly traitors who looked into his eyes and saw that he had come to mete out just punishment. It was not he himself that frightened them, but the wrath of the Brotherhood, for whom Castiel was a tool. So he certainly wouldn't blame their stinking accidents on his smile.
"I don't scare Dean," he pointed out, to some extent because he wanted to believe it himself, even though he knew it wasn't quite true. Omega didn't really seem to be intimidated by his job, which might not be all that surprising considering how he'd grown up. But something in Omegas still stirred a senseless fear that frustrated both Castiel and his Alpha, even drove them mad. Every whiff of sourness in the apple-pine scent was as if his inner Alpha had been grabbed by the back of the neck. He wanted to growl and fight, but he also wanted to bend down and try to make himself as small, as harmless as possible, just to prove to his Omega that he didn't have to be afraid of him.
Castiel had never felt such a contradiction, and to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure how to handle it. And that made him even more frustrated. He wasn't used to not knowing how to handle something.
"No? And you're sure he's self-righteous?"
"What?"
"I mean, if he's not a little..." he gestured vaguely around his head. "Or mentally retarded."
His brother or not, he wasn't allowed to talk about his Omega like that. A deep, menacing growl found its way down his throat all by itself and forced its way through bared teeth.
Gabriel blinked in surprise.
"Oh-oh! Easy, little brother. I meant no harm. It was just a joke," he held his free hand palm up in a clearly conciliatory gesture, and actually tilted his head a little to show his neck, a small detail that was enough to put Castiel's Alpha at ease.
"Don't you ever talk about him like that again," he uttered through still slightly bared teeth.
"He's yours. I acknowledge," Gabriel said, still as conciliatory as before and without the slightest taunt in his voice. In fact, he was unusually serious when he spoke again, "You're really serious about him, aren't you?"
"Yes."
Gabriel gave him a long, unreadable look that reminded him of the few years of their childhood together, and that made him want to lower his head and creep up on the older Alpha. To let his strong arm wrap around his shoulders and mark him with a scent that was familiar and safe. They'd been too old to do anything like this for a long time and he really didn't think he could take Gabriel's rum scent on him, but at least it made him swallow another growl and the itchy feeling in his gums began to subside.
"Okay..." the other Alpha uttered in a sort of colorless voice before his face brightened up with his usual somewhat mischievous expression. "Good for you and even better for me! I'm looking forward to playing the part of the funny, perpetually drunk uncle who will mock you for being swaddled in stinky diapers."
Castiel made a sound that was half sigh and half chuckle. His gaze slid involuntarily to the time in the corner of the screen as he did so.
"I have to go," he said, grabbing his cell phone from the stand.
"Call me when you're done for the day. Or tomorrow, if it goes well. I definitely want to hear how - "
He cut Gabriel's speech off with one push of a button before shoving the phone into his pocket and heading off to meet Dean
Notes:
When a person becomes a criminal, he hopes to get rid of a difficult family. Big surprise! He won't... :-D
Fifteen years ago in the US, marriage was approved for all regardless of primary or secondary sex.
Mating between A/O has been equal to a legal marriage since 1951. Since the same year, marriages between AM/OM and AF/OF couples have been legal as long as they have mated within the legal time limit of marriage.
Since 1979, it has been legal for AM/OM and AF/OF couples to marry without mating.
It is not rare for A/B couples Alpha to bite their Beta partner, but since such a false mating has no biological consequences, it is not legally considered equivalent to an A/O mating.
Most of society considers AM/OM and AF/OF pairs to be normal. Opinions vary on other same-gender couples, but they are generally considered acceptable.In Russia, marriage is legal only between a man and a woman regardless of secondary sex and between an Alpha and an Omega regardless of primary sex.
The Orthodox Church in Russia decreed as early as 1715 that it is possible to marry AM/OM and AF/OF couples if both swear before God that they are True Mates.
Mating between A/Os has been considered legally equivalent to marriage since 1925, because the Bolshevik regime continued the long-standing tradition of A/O marriages only omitting the religious part (the True Mates Clause). And since the same year, AM/OM and AF/OF couples are allowed to marry without mating.
False mating between A/B is not considered equal to marriage.
Most of society considers A/O couples normal regardless of primary gender, but no other same-gender couples are welcomed.
In Russia, it is forbidden to depict same-sex couples in film/art/literature. Except of course for AM/OM and AF/OF couples, but they must be clearly defined (preferably their secondary gender must be clearly mentioned and they must have the behaviors and characteristics expected of a particular secondary gender).The problematic treatment of AM/OM and AF/OF couples is a result of the fact that there are very few Alpha women and very few Omega men in society. A/O couples with the same primary gender were not very common and as we know, when something is rare, it inspires fear and distrust.
Chapter 14
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As it was cloudy all day and rained occasionally, it was already quite cold at 6 pm. Dean stuck his hands in his pockets to keep his fingers from freezing and stumbled over his recent purchase.
It wasn't like he was new to buying condoms, he just sourced them at gas stations or small town stores. Or buying them from vending machines. They were usually in public restrooms or tucked away behind a motel building where they couldn't be seen from the parking lot, but everyone knew they were there.
Shopping was easy and he wasn't even ashamed of it. The assortment was reasonably sized for both Betas and Alphas; one or two items could be added to a purchase or slipped a few coins into a vending machine.
You didn't have to think too much about it, you just had to pick a mid-price range - never skimp on condoms, son, a few extra cents will save you thousands in the future, as their Alpha had told him more than once - and you were done. It was just condoms, not a rocket science!
But when he walked into the drugstore here in N.Y. and found Alpha condoms, he realized it wasn't one or two shelves, it was a whole fucking aisle. Dude, he had no idea there were so many brands. And they all came in different sizes, colors, scents, flavors, and shapes.
Yeah, he admitted, with money in his hands and if he had a little more time, he'd probably buy the whole collection to explore. Only at the moment he just needed a condom big enough to stuff Castiel's Alpha cock into and not have to worry about it bursting. Did he want that badly?
I guess he did. Because when an employee - a dreadlocked Alpha in his twenties, wearing a blue employee vest - noticed his cluelessness, he bombarded him with questions like how big his Alpha's cock was, how long he'd been knotting, if he had any condom preferences, and if he was allergic to latex, which was the only reasonable question. He even almost... almost sent Alf a message saying 'Are you allergic to latex?'
In the end, he left with non-latex condoms of standard Alpha size, extra thin for extra sensitivity. There were five of them, wrapped in a beautiful black paper velvet box with gold embossed lettering that almost looked like some kind of jewel box. And they cost so much that it made him feel embarrassed at the checkout. He simply picked out the most luxurious and expensive thing they had, because that was exactly what he imagined might be sitting in Castiel's nightstand drawer.
Now he just had to hope he'd be willing to use them. If he judged by first impressions and Alf's dangerous business, he was more the type who didn't like condoms, but he'd been surprised a few times in the time he'd known Case, so...
He glanced down the street and saw a familiar Toyota on the other side, at the very end, with dark silhouettes. He grinned a little and waved to Alf's guys before putting his hand back in his pocket. He stumbled over his purchase again, but this time the other half; two travel packs of lube. The Alpha salesman thrust them into his hand with a knowing look after he confessed that he couldn't answer his questions because he hadn't slept with his Alpha yet. God... like he needed that. Just this morning in the bathroom... he'd started with his favorite video of a beautiful Beta brunette riding a plain, uninteresting Beta guy. He'd had it saved for ages and kept going back to it. It was going to be the usual quick, morning job before he started making breakfast, but then... now that he had his own cock in his hand, he wondered what it would look like if the Alpha was there with the brunette. And once his thoughts turned in that direction, he couldn't help but think of Castiel. The smell of him, the tattooed fingers and the impressive piece of him that was rolling around in his pant leg and... Shit! He got so wet he had to take his pants off completely. Then he shoved his fingers as far up his ass as he could, but it still didn't feel like enough. Plus... he didn't do it often. During the heat of course. He might as well have stuffed a broom handle into his hole then, how desperately he needed to be filled, but normally he usually made do with just jerking off.
A familiar feeling low in his back and lower abdomen warned him that he'd better stop thinking about what he'd done in the morning, unless he wanted to smell under Alf's nose like a horny Omega. And he... probably... didn't want to.
A klaxon sounded behind him.
He hadn't even had time to look back when a beautiful Maserati in matte black, only the hood, mask, and handles were glossy black, slid to the pavement with ease and almost inaudibly. And the whole car looked like it had just rolled off the production line.
Alfa gracefully got out of the driver's seat.
He took a quick step around the car and grabbed Dean by the chin before lifting his face to his so he could kiss him, giving Omega a chance to get a good look at him. This time he wasn't wearing a jacket or tie, just as he had the first two times they'd met. His shirt was white and his top two buttons were undone. That was all he noticed at the moment. Then the cherry-almond smell and taste of cigarettes, along with the menthol that clung to Castiel's lips, had him in its embrace.
He ran a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and pressed himself hard against him, trying to get as much of the kiss as he could before the Alpha broke it off again too soon.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel murmured close to his mouth before he tilted his head and pressed his nose into his shoulder.
He did the same, and his Omega growled loudly, enthusiastically, completely entranced by the fact that he was here. His Alpha was here and that was just great. That feeling always managed to shut out any unkind thoughts, including the very thought of how ridiculous and dangerous it was to feel this way in Castiel's presence.
"Hey, Alpha," he replied, his gaze running over the man's chin as he pulled away a little exploratively.
Castiel shrugged. He probably would have noticed it anyway, but mostly he noticed it because he had a freshly shaved lip himself. From his shaved cheek, his eyes slid down his neck, stopping on the hollow between his collarbones, made visible by the unfastened buttons. And besides it, a piece of black ornament in the shape of a toe. What was tattooed on his chest, however, he could only guess.
Castiel stepped back and tilted his head to the side a little.
"Ready to go?"
Dean's gaze wandered to the fancy car and he bared his teeth in a grin.
"In this little pet? Absolutely!"
"Good," the Alpha nodded. "Can you drive?"
"Sure!" He replied, almost offended. "Dad started teaching me as soon as I could reach the pedals."
"Then you drive," Alpha decided, tossing the keys in the air.
He grabbed them and ran to the steering wheel with a beaming smile, full of enthusiasm.
He loved Baba more than anything and hoped his love would never find out, but just... Surely he couldn't pass up the opportunity to test drive a car like this? He slipped into the cream leather-covered seat, glanced over the polished, dark wood-lined dashboard with its gold detailing and touchscreen above the gearshift, gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel in his hands and sucked in... He sniffed several times to make sure his Omega nose wasn't deceiving him, and no, it wasn't. The car smelled of newness, fresh cigarette smoke, the exact same smoke that wafted from the Alfa, so definitely his brand, and of course his smell, only it was so faint it was barely perceptible. This car must really have rolled off the production line a while ago.
The door slammed shut as Castiel closed it behind him.
He looked back at him and found him pulling out a cigarette and preparing to light it. He wrinkled his nose in displeasure at the thought of smoking. The smell of cigarettes was literally impossible to get out of skin, both from the seats and from Dean's jacket, and the last thing he wanted was for it to soak up the cigarette smell that would overpower his father's scent. Their Alpha didn't smoke in the car or when he was wearing his jacket, precisely because he couldn't forgive himself for cigarettes, but he didn't want everything to smell of them. Even in the days when he pulled a pack a day, he preferred to go out in the cold or somewhere far away so he wouldn't smoke right under Sammy's... and Dean's, for that matter... nose and stink up the Impala forever.
Castiel obviously didn't care though, because he just raised his eyebrows questioningly and looked at the road as if to indicate he wanted them to get out of there already, and meanwhile he pulled over.
He gave him one more hard look before he finally looked down at the keys in his hand and sighed a little. Hanging from a black fob with a gold Maserati logo on it was one of those ugly, modern keys that didn't actually look like car keys at all.
"Just need to find a hole to fit it in," Alpha stated unperturbed.
He grinned at the stupid joke.
"Thanks for the advice. Good thing something that big doesn't just fit in a any hole," he replied, half as a double entendre and half because the key was really absurdly large and only fit in the port above the touch screen.
"I'm sure you can do it," he replied just as calmly, his scent unchanged, and blew a puff of smoke.
He felt that familiar burning sensation at the tips of his ears. The Alpha was the only one who could make him feel shy so easily, and that was only because he uttered ambiguous remarks in a perfectly calm voice with that haunting, gravelly accent of his. He clenched his jaw in frustration as the blush refused to subside, and shoved the key into the ignition with unnecessary vigor.
The engine immediately started smoothly and virtually inaudibly. The only way to tell that the car had started at all was that the alarms behind the steering wheel lit up and the touchscreen was filled with the car company's logo. And then by the faintest tremor of the pedals that barely made it past the thick soles of his massive army boots. It was terribly unusual. Baby was spinning like a kitten, providing free magic fingers for the driver's ass, for twelve hours straight. And if someone recorded purring, he could reliably tell if something was bothering her, what speed she was traveling at, or if she needed a fluid refill.
This car was gorgeous, luxurious, and probably fucking expensive, but it was completely soulless. Not that it really mattered at this point, he wanted to test drive it anyway, but... it was just weird.
"I guess now's not the best time to say that... practically speaking... I don't have a real driver's license, huh?" He flicked an eye at Alf.
"Terrible news," he replied, quite sarcastically, whereupon he squinted a little and leaned in towards Dean, bringing his scent - sweetly tart - dangerously close. "I've got one for you too..." he said, and for a moment Dean thought he was going to be thrown from the wheel now. "The car runs on gas, not on documents," he finally said, and with a small, rueful smile, he leaned back in his seat again.
Dean laughed a little.
He stepped on the gas, turned the wheel and... wow! Shit! It was like trying to drive the air. The pedal slid almost all the way to the floor under his foot and the steering wheel spun in an unnatural way. He wasn't expecting it, so he hit the brake hard like a complete novice and the car jerked so hard that Alfa had to catch his hand on the dashboard, causing the burning tip of his cigarette to fall off. And straight onto the obviously brand new velvet carpet.
"Can you really drive?" He asked, quite rightly incredulous, as he lit up again.
"Oh, shut up. This isn't a car, it's a bloody spaceship," he snapped, angrily jabbing his finger at the touchscreen, which immediately lit up and showed him a wide menu of settings.
He was so distracted by the car that he belatedly realised he'd just told Alf to shut up.
With bated breath, he froze, ready for a burst of anger. He literally couldn't imagine Alpha taking this from Omega, especially since he'd already told some knothead to shut up, go jerk off or kiss his ass a hundred times.
No one liked that, of course, but the Alphas could be particularly aggressive.
Castiel didn't move, though. He continued to lean back comfortably in his seat, one leg stretched out and the other bent so that he could rest his hand with his cigarette on it, and he watched Dean from under lazily squinted eyelids.
"You're right," he agreed instead of getting angry. "There are too many computers in modern cars for nothing. Plus these types," he tapped his finger on the center armrest, "aren't fit for the city. Next time I'll take you somewhere you can enjoy the ride more."
He let out the breath he'd been holding and sucked in the air again, this time to check that Alf's scent really was as calm as his own. This was one of the surprises Castiel had in store for him.
"Is that a promise?" He allowed himself a flirtatious smile.
"Yes, a promise and a plan for the next date," Alpha nodded, then nodded towards the road. "Now get going. I'm hungry and especially thirsty," he added with a hint of crankiness in his voice that actually sounded quite cute to Dean.
Anyway, he had to give him the benefit of the doubt. He himself was so hungry he could have eaten a cow with its horns, so he gently pressed the pedal down and turned the wheel just as carefully, and this time he managed to get the car moving without jerking like he was convulsing.
He wasn't at all surprised when the old Toyota peeled off the pavement as soon as they passed it and took off after them. For a moment, he had a hundred urges to try to outrun Alf's men, only he had to concentrate too hard on the road. Granted, he'd googled the whole thing a few times, so he could look like a dude who didn't need a map, but still... Driving a car like this, and in a city like New York, was too unfamiliar for Dean to try to do anything dangerous. Not that he'd be willing to admit to being cautious.
And the worst part was that the trip actually took almost as long as if they'd walked, because of all the annoying roadwork and one-way streets that made them spin around like rats in a maze. Eventually, though, they arrived at a small, currently half full, parking lot in front of a low bar building. He found one parking spot and while he parked gently, as if driving a cloud, he simultaneously checked in his rearview mirror that the Toyota had pulled into another empty spot near the exit.
He turned off the engine and looked out the front window.
By Dean's standards, the sports bar didn't look bad, but now that he was looking at the scratched plaster, the slightly creased metal door with a wooden sign that had a bulldog's head painted on it, and the blacked-out windows where it was clear that no one had gone to much trouble to pick out the paint when one of the window panes broke, he began to feel uneasy. Yeah, the Moscow Doll didn't look great either, but this place was probably a price tag too low. He realized it even more a moment later when they got out and Dean noticed a group of smokers coming around the corner, all staring intently at the car.
The Impala knew how to get attention, and in practically every town they'd arrived in, there was at least one person who admired it out loud, but it was somehow... subtle. Not like Alfa's Maserati, which was literally a pack of thousands slapping anyone who came near.
If Alf even noticed, he didn't care. He swept a quick, wary glance across the parking lot, even in the dim light of the streetlights you could see him sniffing, and when he didn't seem to see anything suspicious around, his expression softened and he put an arm around Dean's shoulders.
It was a possessive gesture he was sure he wouldn't have tolerated from anyone else, but in Castiel's case he didn't mind. Not anymore. He leaned into his side a little, taking in his scent, and actually grinned a little impishly as they walked to the door, the Alpha's sovereignty forcing his way right through the middle of the onlookers, cigarettes in hand. They were probably all Betas, but even they easily recognized Alpha with his Omega, who simply wasn't to be trifled with.
"You should know this place doesn't look like the places you probably go to," he didn't let himself remark before opening the door and walking in first. Purely just so the Alpha wouldn't be surprised by anything he saw inside.
Castiel gave him one of his cutely uncomprehending looks, his head tilting a little and his lips parting before he walked through the door Dean held for him and stopped a little ways behind it.
He let go of the door and watched what the Alpha was looking at.
The furniture was somewhat disparate, but always solid wood, the bar old and the lino on the floor worn, but everywhere was clean. The pool tables were almost thirty years old - all had metal tags screwed on with the date and place of manufacture - but newly coated and painted. The dartboards were also new, and the place had two televisions with the sports channel still running. And, as he knew, the toilet looked good too because it was clean, there was a supply of toilet paper on the windowsill, there was a nice big mirror and even a working hand dryer. What more could one ask for? So yeah, it didn't look so bad after all. And the air, apart from the usual smell of the pub and the people in it, was permeated with the lovely smell of burgers and wings wafting from the kitchen.
"Nice place. Homey," Castiel said, and Dean let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in anticipation of the verdict.
He wasn't surprised when the Alpha headed across the place to the tables against the wall that had a good view of the bar. Wall seats simply belonged to Alphas, regardless of whether it was a seedy biker bar, a nice family restaurant, or - most likely - a fancy place for rich people. Everyone knew that. Alphas needed to feel in control of their surroundings, and a type like Castiel would hardly be an exception.
There was a small problem when he chose the table in the middle. As far as Dean was concerned, he wanted his back covered at all times.
"Shouldn't we sit there instead?" he asked, nodding his head towards a table in the corner, which was thankfully empty, even though the bar was half full. Castiel gave him a questioning look. "There's only one seat against the wall..."
He nodded in agreement, not wondering in the slightest why an Omega would want to have his back covered when he was even with an Alpha at his side, and after all, that should give any Omega a complete sense of security.
He let him sit facing the bar, contenting himself with a seat at his side. The table wasn't very big, so all he had to do was spread his legs a little and his knee would bump into Alf's. Castiel gave him a quick glance from the laminated menu he'd just picked up from the table, and Dean gave him a half-flirtatious smile in return, lowering his gaze to his own menu. Being so close to the heady scent of cherries, and at least touching each other like this, he just liked it. He felt... relaxed and content, probably because this time it was his playground and his game. Well, almost, at least. In fact, when he glanced obliquely towards the bar, he found that Jacob was currently sitting at it.
"You still got them on your heels, Alpha?" He asked, not resisting a little irritation at the thought.
The alpha gave him a look, then glanced towards the bar and finally shrugged a little.
"Yes. Most of the time. You'll get used to it eventually," he said, as if it was a given that they'd be together long enough for Dean to get used to it, and put the menu down. "I like the one with everything."
While the Alpha had apparently already made his selections, Dean hadn't started yet. He caught up quickly, and had to chuckle as he read each item because all the burgers had dog names, like a bulldog smile. The one Castiel had chosen was called 'Pitbull' and it really did come with everything one could want.
"Yeah, that looks awesome," he agreed with a small, satisfied grunt that turned much louder when he saw one of the items on the beer menu. "Oh! They have Margiekugel. I love that brand..."
It was obvious that Alf was about to reply, but at that moment a waitress approached their table. A Beta with brown eyes and long almost-black hair in a high ponytail that revealed her slender neck and shoulders uncovered by anything other than a black tank top, the straps of her bra peeking out from underneath. Her breasts were just the right size and her round ass, which was a joy to slip a glance at, was encased in jeans.
He gave her a radiant smile and she returned it, tucking a lock of her overgrown bangs behind her ear.
"Welcome to the Happy Bulldog. Do you have your food picked out as well, or shall we just order drinks for now?" She asked with a smile.
"We have our pick."
Dean looked at him in surprise; they had?
"Two Pit Bulls with chips, two Margiekugel elevenses, and two Jim Beam without ice.”"
"We only have bottled Margiekugel. Do you want to pour it into a glass or bring the glass and bottle separately?"
Castiel pursed his lips and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if perhaps suppressing a growl.
"Pour it into a glass," he finally replied in a strained voice.
"Good. Be right there, Alpha," the waitress replied as soon as she'd made notes on her pad, and of course she immediately recognized his secondary designation, because no one but Alpha could act this sovereign. Yeah, only a knothead usurped the right to decide what poor, nearly incapacitated, stupid Omega wanted and needed.
"He ordered for me, too," he echoed irritably when the waitress was out of earshot. And then he mentally praised himself for keeping his mouth shut for so long.
"Yes. Did you want something else?" Alpha asked, eyes a little squinted and brows furrowed in that uncomprehending expression of his.
"No, but..."
"Then what are we talking about?"
Dean pursed his lips and counted to ten, while breathing in the nearby scent of roasted cherries with a slightly stronger hint of almonds that suggested Alf wasn't liking the direction of their discussion right now.
"I can order my own, you know? I may be an Omega, but I'm not a complete fool," he got out as calmly as he could manage, but that didn't stop his own scent from turning bitter with irritation.
Oddly enough, it had a different effect on Castiel than he expected. It didn't escalate the impending argument between them. On the contrary, the Alpha relaxed his shoulders, even bowing his head a little in a conciliatory gesture.
"I never thought of you as a fool, Dean," he replied, his voice deeper, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening as his expression softened. "And I don't ever want you to say that about yourself again," he added a little more sternly, and while it wasn't a command, it was certainly a very strong recommendation that made Dean's inner Omega eagerly agree to the Alpha's request.
He tried to resist that urge for a moment before he said:
"Okay, I won't say, but..." he held up a finger emphatically, a teasing edge creeping into his voice, trying to cover his own confused uncertainty over the fact that... well, he was just pretty sure he was never really going to call himself a fool again, and he didn't know what to do with that realization, so he tried to ignore it instead, "you'll have to let me order my own. And speak for yourself."
"Sounds fair. Deal." Alpha nodded.
At that moment, they were interrupted again by the arrival of the waitress, carrying a tray with two glasses of real ale and two shots, and owning the slightly uncertain look she cast at Alpha.
"I'm sorry, but my boss told me to check your ID. Specifically yours," she clarified, nodding at Dean.
Yeah, that was the point.
He had to hold himself from grinning in amusement. Normally, the staff had no problem checking age, even for Alphas; on the other hand, most Alphas didn't actually look like Castiel. He was staring at the waitress with his ice blue eyes, not the slightest expression on his face, tattooed hands folded loosely on the table, giving off something more dangerous than the usual Alpha dominance. It was no wonder the waitress was reluctant to question the opinion of such an Alpha, and she didn't even know how dangerous he really was. That those arms, strung in an expensive shirt and adorned with gold cufflinks and a fancy watch, were lethal instruments worthy of respect.
"Sure," he said in a cheerful tone, giving her a bright smile as he took out his wallet to pull out his fake driver's license. "Here it is," he held it out to her. "I look terrible there, but everyone does on their driver's license."
The waitress alternated between looking at the photo on his license and the one on his driver's license, definitely trying to figure out if it was fake. Dean kept smiling at her, even more at ease than ever. Still, the worst that could happen was that she just wouldn't give him his beer. But he wasn't too worried about that. He'd been to bars for far worse fake IDs than this one Alf's people had made.
"Looks like it's okay," the waitress finally decided, after a brief glance at Castiel, and handed Dean his license back. "I'm sorry, but you look barely eighteen."
"Lucky for me," Castiel commented without batting an eyelash.
This time he couldn't help giggling at the surprised expression the waitress gave Alf before she blushed a little and quickly set their drinks down in front of them instead.
"Would you like me to get you a little something to go with your beer? We've got a few flavours of roasted nuts, chips and homemade salty bars with your choice of dip. Or do you have any other requests?"
"Yeah," Alpha said, reaching into his pocket from where he pulled out his usual wad of money clasped with a money clip, because he obviously didn't know what a wallet was for, or maybe he couldn't find one big enough to stuff all those hundreds into. He placed one on the table and held it with two fingers. "You'll make sure the table next to us stays empty. We don't want anyone bothering us, including you. If you see we're out of drinks, you'll automatically bring another and you won't ask any questions. If we want or need anything, we'll ask for it ourselves. If I'm satisfied, a proper reward will follow." He slid the bill over to the waitress.
For a moment, the waitress seemed unsure what to think as she looked at the bill with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. She was probably wondering if it was some kind of vlog joke, or worse, if Dean was a provocateur and Alpha was a cop checking the place together to see if they were pouring for teenagers for a fee. In the end, though, she reached for the bill, because a hundred was just a hundred.
But just as she had her hand on it, Alpha grabbed it.
"And one more thing..." he intoned, and Beta froze in anticipation of something unfortunate. "Don't smile at my Omega again. Understood?"
The waitress's shoulders slumped a little, the tense expression disappearing, and she even smelled faintly of relief as she nodded slightly.
"Of course, Alpha," he said very helpfully.
Dean grinned inwardly. It was clear this wasn't the first time she'd encountered this or a similar request. After all, he'd seen it many times himself. Overly possessive knots who needed to keep their Omegas - and not just Omegas - close together, preferably literally pressed to their bodies, and made murderous faces at even ordinary service. Every waitress, Beta, Alpha or Omega, knew how to behave around such Alphas.
Castiel dropped the bill and let the waitress take it.
"I'll bring your food in a moment," she promised with another smile, but this time she only gave it to the Alpha, then turned to walk over to the next table. Castiel couldn't see it, but Dean only had to lean in a little to see her turn the bill over in her hands several times. When she concluded that it probably wasn't fake, she pulled a sign from her apron that said 'reservation' and placed it on the table.
" Dude, that was rude. She was just being nice," he objected as soon as Beta left, but without any real anger. He hated to admit it, but there was something about this Alpha's behavior that was... damn appealing and infuriating at the same time, mostly because Dean's Omega growled every time Castiel acted like a jealous jerk. Well, that's just great, Winchester, you've done it...
"She was flirting," he replied, as if that explained everything, giving him an unreadably calm look as he shoved the wad of bills back into his pocket.
He rolled his eyes slightly.
"Whatever you say, Alpha," he muttered, a bit of mockery slipping into his voice and especially Castiel's secondary markings without really meaning to, so he quickly raised his glass of bourbon. "So... on us...?" He suggested with a smile, toasting.
"To you, Dean," he raised his glass, "and to finally finding you."
He bit his lip, fighting both a smirk and the urge to tell him to go to hell with all this talk of his. No, seriously, this was getting ridiculous. Why did he keep doing this? Dean was here, after all. He was helpful, even enthusiastic at times. Oh, shit...! He had a packet of condoms in his pocket that he was determined to use tonight. Alpha didn't have to try and shower him with the flattery that convinced him how special he was.
In fact, he could easily get what he wanted to begin with, and if he wanted Dean's approval on top of that... yeah, he had it. Hell, he had it.
He turned the glass over in his hands.
The bourbon was warm, like it had been after a long trip in the trunk of a car, and it burned like fire as it made its way down his throat and into his stomach, where it spread out into a pleasant sensation of warmth. Heat in his mouth, heat in his gut. He swallowed the accumulated saliva and tried to keep a straight face even as his gums clenched and his lips curled. He didn't want to look like an amateur in front of Alpha.
Surprisingly, Castiel had only downed half the glass, and of course, the half hadn't moved him. He continued to wear his unchanging expression, softened by the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, but still perfectly composed, and he fixed Dean with that look of unnerving intensity. He could feel the weakness in his knees even as he sat, and the thousands of tiny fingers running down his back, and his Omega growled softly, willingly showing Alf his stomach. The urge to duck his head and bury it in Castiel's shoulder because of the feeling was ridiculously strong. He had to distract himself somehow.
Like... well... what was the last thing they'd talked about in the cabin? Surely there was something...? Alf's presence, coupled with the alcohol that was a little heavy on his tongue, was already clouding his thinking, but... Yeah! He already knew!
"Music!" He blurted into the silence hovering between them, and thank God for that.
"Oh yes," Alpha shook his head, realization lighting up his face. "I promised to bring you some Russian music."
Yeah, that was exactly what they'd been talking about this morning.
School had been one big bore that he wouldn't have graduated at all if their Alpha hadn't insisted on it while keeping an eye on Sammy. He already knew how to read, write, and do arithmetic, and that was all he needed for the life he was destined to lead. Either the old one, in the saddle of the Impala, or the new one in a Russian criminal organization, or at Castiel's side as a mafia house Omega. So he paid only the necessary minimum of attention to his studies, and now that he had two phones, he could honestly put one in the box by the classroom door and hide the other under his desk and surf the internet.
Who knows why, maybe because he had been acting like a hysteric the day before, he thought he would make Alpha happy by learning more about his country. The Wikipedia page was too long, so he just skimmed through it, preferring to try and look up something more entertaining. Music seemed like a good start, but when he typed 'Russian music' into YT and listened with one earphone in, his first and only reaction was 'What the hell...?! He'd already heard they had other music than this but... He just couldn't stop himself and had to send Cas one video with a series of question marks and exclamation marks. The literal answer to his message was, 'Yes, that's our music. It's what all the red brains wanking over Stalin's portrait are listening to. Just kidding. I'll bring you some of my favourite Russian music to show you tonight'.
And so here he was, watching Castiel pull first two phones out of his pocket, followed by an old MP3 player with buttons and everything, including a tangled pair of headphones that looked as cheap as the player itself.
"You know, nowadays you can record songs on a phone," he didn't forgive himself for the slightly derisive remark.
Alpha flicked an eye at him, but his lips twitched in a smile.
"But this," he held up the player, "doesn't have wifi, bluetooth, or GPS."
"Point taken."
Dad was far from a criminal of Castiel's caliber, but he'd done a few dozen shady to illegal things in his life and was an expert at evading cops and government authorities in general. Traveling around small towns, checking into motels under fake names, multiple fake IDs, working for cash only, smuggling their little arsenal under a fake suitcase bottom, and of course being instructed to never steal phones, pads, or computers - you couldn't tell if they had the search function turned on. And the basic command was that if things got tough, they were to get rid of all electronics and buy new ones. And if it happened to get really bad, to go completely without electronics and head towards their 'abandoned' cabin.
"Plus, I doubt I'd find my music on Spotify," he added as he shoved his cell phone back into his pocket.
He turned on the player, found something in it, and then pulled the headphones out before setting it down in front of Dean. That was his cue to dig out his own cocoon of headphones in his pocket and stick them in the player. He stuck one in his left ear, but left the other ear free to hear what the Alpha was saying.
"I put them in chronological order," the Alpha mentioned before pressing the play button.
The music started playing and it sounded almost as weird, only softer. He took a breath to comment on it when the onset of harsh guitars and a raspy voice along with a proper drum part nearly blew the top of his head off. Damn it and wow! It was proper punk rock gritty, and Russian actually suited the style better than English, it was just, just... He looked up in surprise at Castiel, who was sitting there with his calm... but no, the bastard one was smiling mischievously through pursed lips, a sparkle of mock amusement glittering in his eyes. He knew damn well he was going to surprise Dean with this, he'd done it on purpose and he was gloating. But that didn't change the fact that he couldn't imagine Alpha listening to this music. He was too controlled, almost uptight for that. Though the idea of him ever wearing a colored shearling, a jacket full of spikes, and leather pants... man, where would he stuff his Alpha sausage in them? She had a tendency to want to squeeze through even plain dress pants.
No, nope. Alpha's just shooting the shit.
"Funny," he snorted, "But you know what? I'm not falling for that. You never listened to that."
Castiel tilted his head and gave him a condescending look.
"Krasivyye aborty," he said; Dean looked puzzled. "Krasivyye abororty, that's the name of the group. It translates to 'Beautiful Abortions' and it's actually kind of a pun, too. The adjectives 'beautiful' and 'red' are pronounced a lot alike in Russian. And the song," he motioned to the player with his bourbon glass before emptying it in one gulp, "is called 'kolyuchaya svoboda'. Barbed freedom. It's a song they sang after the collapse of the Soviet Union. In it they criticise the new political system that has begun to take shape in Russia. They sing about being born harnessed to a hammer and sickle, growing up under the hooves of red pigs and having dreams of freedom that were about to start coming true. But that the pigs continue to eat from their golden troughs, and that if they did not have the weight of the ideal around their necks, they would throw away everything they have and set their skin to needle and ink."
Needle and ink? It meant...
"They sing about...?" He made a vague gesture.
"Da... Yes." He nodded. "It's such a cry of young people yearning for freedom, who no longer believe they can be free. They see the gang as their only hope for partial freedom. To give you a correct understanding," he fingered the dewy beer glass, "the army had and still has a lot of power in Russia. It is both loved and feared because it has always served the regime in the worst sense of the word. That's why there's something heady about calling someone 'brat' who stands up in front of an army officer, spits on him, and calls him a government whore."
"So that's how you joined in?"
"Me?" He raised one eyebrow in surprise before shaking his head a little. "No. I'm third generation. It runs through my veins," he tapped his elbow socket, "and beats in my heart," he brought his fist to his chest. "I am who I am, not by choice, but because that is how my destiny was written. God's will cannot be defied, I learned that long ago."
Sammy talked about mobsters having crime in the family. Guys who supposedly know nothing but the underworld and literally can't live like normal, law-abiding citizens, a little... a little like Dean himself. He wasn't as tough as the Alpha or his men, but if anyone ever happened to find out how long his list of pickpocketing was, how many times he'd tricked someone out of money or just shoved a bottle of soda and crackers under his jacket... yeah, he'd probably do a few years in total. And he didn't see any other future for himself. So that's... that's where he and Castiel were alike.
"It's a great song. Then send it to me."
Surprise flitted across Alf's face, but then turned into a small smile.
"Okay."
He returned the smile and shifted a little in his chair so their knees were touching reliably and the hand that held the player was close to Alf's folded arms. He wasn't entirely expecting it, but then again, he wasn't surprised when Castiel looked down at how close they were and then placed a hand on his forearm. It was still unusual to see how small his own wrist and forearm were compared to Alf's hand. Not bad, though.
He reached for his beer with his free hand to wash down the sudden dryness in his mouth, and turned his attention to the music. With each new song he glanced briefly at Alpha, who had been watching him intently the whole time, gently circling his thumb over Dea's forearm and slowly sipping his beer. Neither of them had anything to say for those few minutes, or the need to fill the silence that had fallen between them. Not even Dean, because this was about the music, and if there was anything he could and wanted to focus on, it was the music. And the fact that it was Castiel's favourite music made it more important, so yeah, well he'd noticed how Alf's tastes had softened over the years. He'd gone from his first hard punk rock tracks to rock with classical tones to rock ballads in which he'd heard a bit of pop. Nothing special, really. He knew it from his favorite bands too. Time and age had sanded down the edges.
But one thing was infuriating. He couldn't understand a word. He'd have to ask Alpha what they were singing about and that would just look stupid. But if it was half as important as the first lyric, he'd probably want to know. Maybe he could ask for the names of the bands and songs, look it up, and have it googled.
The player skipped to the next song and...
"Wait! Wait! Is that... Beyonce? Really?!" He turned to Castiel in utter dismay. "Beyonce?!"
The alpha just shrugged disinterestedly.
"I like the color of her voice."
"That's no excuse" He rolled his eyes dramatically, then pointed a threatening finger at Castiel. "If I find Bieber in there, you're a dead man to me, Alpha!"
Though Cas's corners twitched in a smile and his eyes held amusement, he too tilted his head to the side in a little confusion.
"He is one of the most successful Omega singers. Shouldn't you be rooting for him?"
"I don't care what secondary gender he is. His singing kills my soul and that's all that matters."
"Sorry," came the voice above them.
Dean's heart leapt with fright and he quickly waved a hand from under Alf's. He was so caught up in the music that he didn't even notice when a waitress approached them, even carrying a tray full of food.
Castiel, of course, didn't startle, just pursed his lips sullenly and moved his hands away from the table so the waitress could place the plate in front of him. Meanwhile, Dean turned off the music playing and placed the Mp3 along with his headphones on the edge of the table to make room for his burger. And oh god yes, it looked and smelled so good...!
The beta waitress still took both of their empty glasses - when did he ever drink that beer? He didn't even know - and placed full ones on the table, and not just the beer, but another shot of bourbon. Apparently she had taken the request literally to bring drinks whenever she ran out. Not that he was complaining. It was great that he could finally have a drink without having to hide, so he gratefully reached for the shot and took a good swig. The bourbon was still fucking warm and therefore disgusting, but somehow he didn't even mind anymore.
With a sigh, he put the shot down and focused on the burger.
"Perfect," he commented with satisfaction, picking up the burger and looking over the beautifully golden bun at Alpha. "See? This is real, American food. There's nothing like it." He took in the aroma of roasting bacon and grilled meat. "I bet you don't have anything like this."
Alpha let out a snort as he took the burger in his hands.
"We have burgers in Russia, too. We even have Burger King there."
"Then why on earth are you eating boiled cabbage?!"
"Because borscht is one of our national dishes."
"Okay, okay... whatever," he muttered, not wanting to talk about it anymore now that he had a proper hamburger in his hands. "This is America's national dish, okay? And in my opinion, there's just nothing like it..." he added very seriously and emphatically before finally... finally taking a bite.
Oh, God, yeah. It tasted just as good as it smelled and looked. Even when he'd first been here, just watching the waitresses as they brought out the food, he'd been sure it would be quality. He not only had an eye for it, but more importantly, a sense of smell. Years of traveling between motor inns and diners had simply honed his palate for the best burgers, and this was definitely one of the best thirty he'd had. He was perfectly content, just... suddenly he felt a twinge of nervousness and uncertainty, and his Omega bristled a little, as if expecting an attack. He honestly didn't know what that meant at first. He even glanced around quickly to see if his instincts were warning him of any danger. It wasn't until his eyes fell on Alpha, who was inspecting his burger, that he realized what was going on.
He slowed his chewing and focused on Castiel, who finally took a bite. At that point Dean stopped chewing altogether and watched him tensely. And waited for his verdict. And God, it was ridiculous and he knew it, but he still couldn't help himself.
Then Alf's lips parted in a smile. And Dean relaxed his tense shoulders in relief.
"That's... really good..." assessed Castiel as he chewed.
Dean swallowed his bite and grinned as he took another. He pleased his Alpha. He fed his Alpha. What could be better?
Notes:
Krasivyye aborty is a fictional Russian punk rock band. They have been playing and singing in the same line-up for over thirty years and are a so-called "index band". Except for two years just after the collapse of the Soviet Union, they have been banned for their entire existence. They are not allowed to officially give concerts, release CDs, place their songs on Russian music portals. Of course they are not allowed to play them on the radio or anywhere in public.
And a few Russian jokes at the end. Plus a Czech one directed at one of our very famous singers who has been performing for almost five decades. I've just changed it a little so you can understand it. :-D
When you hire someone to do a job, don't keep checking up on them. A relaxed atmosphere helps work ethic. You'd better pursue your hobbies. Maybe clean your shotgun and count the rounds.
...
Happiness is fleeting. Always take a litre more.
...
It's easy for a married man to plan a vacation. The boss tells him when and the wife tells him where.
...
Wife: You should respect me. Heaven sent me down for you.
Husband: I know. Too bad the air defenses didn't work.
...
Teacher: Ivanek, do you know who was the first Russian pilot?
IvaneK Of course! Baba Yaga!.
...
American archaeologists are exploring Egypt and manage to wake up a mummy. The mummy looks at them and then ask:
"What year is it? And where are you from?"
The archaeologists reply:
"The year is 2023, and we are from the USA."
"Really? What about the Madonna? Is she still singing?"
Chapter Text
"... and then he turns around and starts screaming. Aaaaa!" Dean added his scream to the generally very loud buzz of the place, waving his hand wildly. "You think... well, you think there's going to be this melted zombie, but it's just a mouse. Get it? He's screaming about a mouse! A regular, tiny mouse... made of plastic!" he added, starting to giggle.
"I get it. It's funny because the mouse is plastic."
"Of course it's plastic. It's a B-horror movie and the actress was scared of mouses. The point is... um," he hesitated, looking at Castiel with a confused, unfocused gaze. "Where did I... yeah, right. The point is mostly that she has no idea that the slimeball is waiting for her behind the shower curtain, melting into the tub. Get it?"
"Yes," he nodded a second time, looking a little wistfully towards the bar, next to which was the door to the bathroom. "I need to go to the bathroom..."
"It's just like in Blood Claws Three. There's that busty blonde Omega again at the beginning..."
"Dean," he interrupted, extending his hand out from under his with some regret. In a rush of excitement from talking about his favorite horror movies, Dean had clasped his hand a while ago and they'd been holding each other ever since. Castiel ran his thumb over the soft, smooth skin of Dean's fingers, trying with sincere determination to listen to what Omega was telling him, though it was difficult for many reasons. For one thing, Dean couldn't keep his attention even under normal circumstances. For example, their chat... sometimes Omega's messages seemed more like a thought collage than an attempt at conversation, and Castiel had trouble keeping up with him. And while four glasses of beer and two of bourbon had brightened his green eyes and brought a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the tiny freckles scattered across his face, they hadn't exactly done much to help Dean focus. The words poured out of him in an unstoppable stream full of detours and loops.
And secondly, not only did he really desperately need a smoke, he wanted to piss badly, and had been for a good twenty minutes now.
"What?" Dean finally looked at him really intently.
"I have to go pee. And then we'll take a break," he added as he stood up, indicating smoking a cigarette at the same time.
"Sure," he nodded, whereupon he paused, his face filling with uncertainty that seeped into his scent. "Erm... I guess you should know that locking up doesn't really work here. You have to kind of... you know, hold the door and then just..." He tried to express something confused with his hands.
"Dean... I've been in much worse places than this. Nothing can surprise me in the toilets, not even a occupied glory hole" he assured him with a condescending smile before leaning down and burying his nose in the golden crown of his hair.
Omega growled. It was a familiar yet different sound than he was used to from the few Alphas he'd spent more than one night with, growling to prove their somewhat redundant favor. In fact, usually when one of his acquaintances did that or otherwise attempted anything more than sex, it earned him an immediate and one-way trip out of Castiel's life But this time... with Dean... His own growl joined his Omega's and his inner Alpha yearned for one thing; to mark his Omega, who was literally clamoring to be spanked and owned with his growl and the way he bowed his head.
He stretched his neck, tilted his head and rubbed his jaw against Dean's bowed head. His scent instantly mingled with Omega's in a perfect combination. He buried his nose in the tousled hair one last time to check his mark, and when he and his Alpha found with satisfaction that it was where it should be and a perfect fit, he straightened with a sigh.
"I'll be right back."
He quickly headed across the nearly full bar, checking the three other Alphas that were in the place with a glance on the way. One was sitting far away at the bar, watching TV while sipping from a bottle of beer. He didn't pose much of a threat. The other two were much closer to his Omega, but one was there with his Omega, giving it his full attention, except for the few glances he and Castiel exchanged. But the last one... he was close, at the same tables against the wall, alone and looking in their direction almost every time he checked on him. He was looking even now. He watched as he marked his Omega and had the audacity to smile as Castiel passed him, even raising his glass of ale in something of a toast.
With a low growl, he parted his right side of his lips, letting his golden fangs show. That was one of the reasons, and a great advantage, for having a replacement the size of a fully erected fang; it supported his every argument perfectly. And it worked this time, too. The other Alpha looked surprised, more surprised than offended, letting his glass drop to the table and relaxing his shoulders. The message was pretty clear. The alpha probably really meant no harm by his behavior, he just liked Dean and appreciated Castiel's choice. On the one hand, of course, that was upsetting, because he didn't like the idea of someone trying to take his Dean, but on the other hand... He would have been more than happy to tell the Alpha to his face that yes, this Omega was mine, no one else could have it, and you were only allowed to be jealous from afar.
He let his lip drop, but he puffed out his chest while nodding that he acknowledged Alf's retreat. They exchanged one last look and then he let it go, speeding up a little more to get to the bathroom before anyone else.
He did his business while he wondered why Omega had warned him so much about the toilet in particular. Of course, there was one for the whole place, as was quite often the case in American pubs, and so it smelled and was worn no matter how hard they tried to keep the place clean. But it wasn't nearly as bad as Dean suggested.
It looked entirely appropriate for the battered but clean bar he made his way to after he was done. He was in the mood for something other than the bourbon he'd been drinking so far, and he wasn't in the mood to wait. Besides, he wanted to check if his men had noticed anything. Granted, they were far away from the neighborhood where the police were currently on a rampage for Ruby's offal, but the trap itself indicated that someone had targeted their Bratva, and that meant they might have targeted him personally. And while he wasn't seriously worried about police surveillance, the competition that had managed to sneak into their territory and operate there was causing him some concern.
"Boss," Jacob greeted him with a nod as he leaned against the bar next to him.
"Anything interesting?" He asked in Russian, his gaze fixed on the bartender who was pouring drinks on the other side, and when he caught sight of him he just nodded in acknowledgement.
"Nothing, except those over there. They look like they're looking for trouble," Jacob replied, nodding his head towards a group of young men who were more likely trying to play pool, since they were already so drunk they could only manage to roll around on the table. None of them were Alpha, but all of them had the physique of American football players and the age of college kids, and all five of them obviously knew each other well.
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.
"Tequila. Two."
"I'll bring it to your table," the bartender offered.
"I'll wait," he declined, and with his eyes fixed on the group of boys, he spoke to Jacob again. "Keep an eye on them. I don't want him to ruin my evening," he instructed him, to which Beta just nodded in agreement. The bartender had already poured two glasses, which were also sitting on a small tray, and was just about to slice a lime. His lips tightened in disgust at the thought of salt and lemon. "I'll just take it, " he said, reaching for a bill and placing it on the bar. "Keep the others," he added, picking up both glasses and heading back to Dean.
He found him with his cell phone in his hand, tapping hard, but when Castiel approached their table, he immediately lifted his head and showed his teeth in a grin. They were like white pearls, regular and with sharp little Omega fangs. His teeth were simply perfect, gleaming between plump lips that sat on a delicately freckled face with beautifully regular features. This was all complemented by the grass green eyes and dark golden mane that crowned it all. Dean was a true work of God.
"Alpha..." growled Dean.
"Omega..." he replied in the same coin, and not for the first time he noticed Den squint his eyes as if he was almost more pleased by the address than when he'd called him by his name. "Here. Something to warm you up," he said, setting the glass down in front of him.
"What's that?" he asked, but by then he was raising his drink to his face.
"Tequila."
"That's supposed to be drunk with lemon and salt."
He squinted his eyes in displeasure.
"What are you? A schoolgirl? Shall I get you a straw and an umbrella to go with it?"
Dea pouted his lower lip in a theatrical gesture of annoyance.
"Yes, please. Pink."
He rolled his eyes with an amused grin. It was so easy to have fun when he was with Dean. Maybe there was something to Gabriel's words about never smiling so much after all. In fact, he had no reason to until this Omega had come into his life and brought his boundless optimism and cheerful energy that oozed from his every smile, word, and restless hands that always had to hold something and play with it. Whether it was a glass, a toothpick, the corner of a menu or the collar of his own shirt.
"I haven't had tequila yet. Dad says this weird Mexican stuff isn't for him," he said to Castiel's certain displeasure shared with his Alpha, who grunted sullenly. Literally every mention of John Winchester was, in his opinion, superfluous and distracting. And irritating, because the man seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth. While that might seem like good news, he might even hope that he had fallen off a cliff somewhere or been beaten in a tavern and thrown into the nearest sewer, but he always preferred to see the corpses of his enemies at his feet. He was most content if he had personally put a bullet in their heads beforehand. And John Winchester was definitely one of those who deserved his bullet just for failing to take care of Omega like a proper Alpha should.
"So," Dean gave him a coy look over the rim of his glass, "your sexy ass, Alpha," he said with a feigned seriousness that didn't last long before he started giggling.
He raised his eyebrows in small surprise before another amused smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
"On my ass," he joined in the toast.
The glasses met halfway. Dean tapped his with such vigor that some of the contents splashed onto his hand. He didn't make a big deal of it, just laughed again, taking the half-full glass in his other hand and turning its contents inside him before pushing his wet fingers between his lips. With a loud slurp, he sucked them deep into his mouth. Three fingers like nothing. And he sucked on them with heroic determination to suck out every last drop that remained on them, and as Castiel was dimly aware, probably without the slightest idea of what such a sight was doing to him.
He held his glass in front of his face, untouched, and watched Dean's lips slide over his fingers, leaving a wet trail of saliva in their wake, his green eyes twinkling in a blissful expression. Then, with a loud 'pop', Omega pulled his fingers out of his mouth and opened his eyes. His mouth remained slightly ajar, his eyes wide and watery, and his expression... It was exactly what he hoped it would be soon, preferably tonight, when he was kneeling at Castiel's feet, looking up at him after he had thoroughly fucked his mouth.
"What?" Dean blurted out in confusion.
"Ty takoy krasivyy..."
"Um, what?" he repeated, even more confused. "What were you saying? I don't speak Russian."
He hadn't even realized he didn't speak English and was already taking a breath to repeat it in the common tongue, but decided not to because Dean looked cutely confused at first, only then his face and ears turned an even more intense shade of red and he looked away shyly. He probably didn't understand exactly, but he guessed it was some sort of compliment or maybe something rude.
"Nothing interesting," he replied with a rueful smile, turning the tequila inside him. "Come, Omega..." He set his glass down and stood up.
"Can't you forgive yourself for once? It's freezing outside..." muttered Dean grumpily, but by then he was on his feet and shuffling a little clumsily into his jacket.
"No. I desperately need something in my mouth."
Green eyes looked up at him from the jacket's fastening with obvious shock before another rush of red heated Dean's face, whereupon he snorted indignantly.
"You really are a huge dick."
"You have no idea how huge," he replied dryly, watching with amusement at the further embarrassment on Omega's face, but also at the way he wrinkled his nose and puckered his lips in a would-be annoyed expression. And then he bumped into Castiel sideways.
"Dumbass." He bared his teeth in a playful snarl.
He grabbed the back of his head lightly and pulled him to him with an equally playful growl. Dean bowed his head in submission, which his Alpha acknowledged with a satisfied grunt, but at the same time Omega wrapped an arm around his waist with a force that was decidedly possessive, then gave him a flash of green eyes and sharp fangs, shown in a smug grin. An unbelievable combination of fiery defiance that he couldn't help but admire and a subservience he instinctively craved. A perfect species made just for him. It couldn't have been anything else.
With a sigh, he rubbed his nose against Dean's cheek.
"Oh, come on for a smoke, you big Alpha a cuddle," Dean muttered, actually pushing into Castiel's back to force him to move.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. Alpha cuddly? That was... odd, but he didn't really mind. He smiled and let his hand slide from the back of Dean's head to his shoulder. And so, in a mutual embrace, they walked together out in front of the bar into the night air so cold that steam rose from their mouths. Omega was right, it really was bloody cold outside. He kind of regretted not bringing a jacket. He wandered his gaze to his car, which was too far away to bother going there. It was just going to be a quickie anyway.
He let go of Dean and quickly dug out his cigarettes and lighter. His hands were shaking a little from the cold as he stuck the cigarette between his teeth, and the wind was so annoyingly strong that he couldn't manage a proper light. Or maybe he was out of gas again. This shit might have been pretty to look at, but there was nothing like plain plastic zippers.
"Govno," he swore, flicking the lighter.
There was a familiar click, and a flame flared a little from his face, with Dean's knowing eyes peering over it.
"Thanks," he breathed his thanks in relief and toasted in one drag as he blindly shoved his lighter back into his pocket.
He inhaled a hefty hit of smoke and then very slowly, savouring the nicotine he finally craved, blew the cloud skyward so that as little smoke as possible reached Dean. His eyes were still glazed over with pleasure when Omega grabbed his hand and began to pull him away. A little confused as to what Dean was up to, he gave in, but quickly lit up as he pulled him towards the wall and behind the containers where the wind wasn't blowing so much, making it seemingly a little warmer and more comfortable.
"You're freezing..." muttered Dean, as if half to himself, and then, to Castiel's surprise, began to rub his hand between his own.
The warmth from his palm didn't really have a chance of really banishing the chill that was biting into his body, but it managed to at least warm his hand a little and make it feel... wanted. That there was someone who cared for him not because they had to, but because they wanted to. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that, if ever.
Not just since he'd been put in charge of New York, but even before that, he'd had men around him all the time, willing to do his every bidding from the most ordinary to the most bizarre and brutal. They were willing to defend him with their own bodies, to lay down their lives for him and their cause, and to see to his comfort, both out of loyalty to the Bratva and to himself. Many of them he would call his friends, and with some he would go further, and when he called them 'brat' he meant it and had more love and respect for them than for his blood brothers.
But this was not the same. This was... different.
Something hot gripped his insides, his Alpha howled, and he suddenly felt like he might start to choke if he didn't take in Dean's scent and taste him. He wasn't thinking about anything. He reached out his hand, dropped the cigarette, cupped the surprised Omega's face in his hands, and before he could ask anything, hungrily dove for the man's mouth. He devoured his soft, full lips, swallowing the tongue Dean had shoved a little unguardedly into his mouth, inhaling deeply the scent of apple blossoms and pine resin that quickly began to fill with the pleasantly saccharine aroma of arousal.
He didn't realize he'd pushed Dean against the wall until their chests rested against each other and Omega finally wrapped his arms around his waist. He pulled away just long enough to catch his breath and for a small moment enjoy the sight of Omega's panting face with its beautifully swollen lips, and then he dug his fingers into his thick hair and tilted his head to the side just enough to bury his face in his neck. Dean groaned and yielded under his firm touch, and Castiel felt his nails dig into his back.
He breathed in the strong scent that was like a balm to his suddenly raging heart, but at the same time he wanted to growl desperately and tear at all the useless fabric that separated him from the Omega gland he so desperately wanted to sink his teeth into. He could absolutely feel not only the telltale itch, but the clenching of his dental muscles and the very fangs slowly working their way out. And his mouth was filling with thick saliva. He knew in that moment that he had to stop before he did something very stupid.
He forced himself to pull away.
He had to keep his eyes closed for a while, breathing slowly through his mouth, before he dared to open them and look at Dean, who was still so impossibly close. Castiel had him by the face, trapping him between his body and the wall, right where he belonged. And Dean was looking at him with eyes that, in the dim light of a nearby lamp, seemed more of a light brown than the amber or yellow that Omega eyes should properly be. But even though the shade wasn't perfect at the moment, Dean himself was absolutely perfect.
"Ty prekrasna. Takoy krasivy," he mumbled, and the little confusion that curled Dean's lips let him know that he was probably speaking Russian again. "I'm saying you're beautiful," he repeated in English, half-whispering, running his nose along the edge of his jaw where it was close enough to his beautiful scent, but not so close to his throat as to tempt him into silly ideas. That was why he almost immediately felt the acidity seeping into Dean's scent and the way his breath hitched.
"Why do you keep saying that?" Omega asked, and in fact there was so much irritation in his voice that it made Castiel pull away in surprise and look at him in confusion. "Why... why do you keep saying these... things?"
He cocked his head to the side in question.
Dean exhaled irritably, his hands clenching tighter into Castiel's back.
"Why do you keep saying I'm... beautiful and... smart... it's just... why?"
"Because it's true," he answered simply, but the expression Dean wore said that such a simple answer wouldn't do. He leaned one hand against the wall behind his back and took Dean's chin with the other. "You're very beautiful and you're also smart, brave and loyal. You're perfect."
Despite gripping his chin and not allowing him to turn away completely, Omega managed to turn his head a little and lower his eyes. When he raised them again after a few shallow breaths, they were no longer golden brown, but green again, like autumn grass.
With a slow flick of his tongue, Dean moistened his lips, which immediately curled into a cynical smile.
"You weren't lying, were you Alpha?" He arched an eyebrow as if the accusation of lying was something funny, and regardless of Castiel's slight frown, he continued in the same light tone. "You really don't have much experience with Omegas, do you?"
A half growl escaped him, but since he didn't want to scare Dean, he choked most of it out, even though he really didn't like the way he was talking.
"No, I wasn't lying. I never lied to you, Dean..." he said in lieu of any show of displeasure.
"Uh huh," Omega grumbled almost cheerfully before taking his wrist and removing his hand from his chin. "Okay... let me explain, Alpha. These hula, hula," he smacked Castiel's hand on his hip, wiggling it a little from side to side, "are skinny to the bone, and you're going to squeeze at most one ailing puppy out of this lavor here," he moved his hand to his stomach, "no more. These hands," he finally let go of him, but instead raised his own hand in front of Castiel's face, "may be big enough to grab your whole fat Alpha cock, but they can't cook. And here," he tapped his finger on his head, "it's half a day of darkness and half a day of rock songs. I'm not much of a catch for a rich and powerful Alpha like you."
He had to look away - Dean commented with an ironically resigned snort and the fact that he'd stopped hugging him - and take a deep breath of fresh, cool air to keep from growling angrily again. He felt anger not towards Dean, but towards whoever, probably John Winchester, had made him think so low of himself. But he didn't want to scare his Omega or lose control and put his fist through the container they were standing next to.
When he was sure he was finally in control enough, he slowly turned around, only to be met with Dean's would-be knowing smirk and the tiredness in the green eyes that were watching him with a somewhat cloudy gaze. A drunken look, to be exact. There was probably a bit of drunken melancholy behind all of Omega's babbling, but that, in Castiel's experience, always came from somewhere. And, as he well knew, it was hard to dispel with words, which he wasn't very good with word anyway. So he opted for action instead.
He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and pulled him close, so that the lower halves of their bodies rested against each other. This pressed his crotch against his hip and made him feel the weight of his cock. He was barely half hard, but certainly hard enough for Dean to feel it despite all the fabric separating them.
"Feel that?" the voice asked, thick with suppressed rage and arousal; Dean nodded. "You do, and all it takes is one kiss. Just the smell of you. Do you think it happens to me all the time?" He asked, leaning a little closer as he rocked his hips shallowly a few times.
There was uncertainty on Dean's face and the look he dropped down to where their crotches were almost touching was decidedly shy.
"I... um... probably not...?" He breathed, now without self-irony or teasing, just shy and uncertain.
"No, Dean, absolutely not," he replied firmly and clearly. "I'm not sixteen anymore. I don't have to run to the bathroom every two hours." He pressed his palm against his neck, forcing him to look up. "I didn't have to before I met you. No matter what anyone else thinks, you're absolutely perfect to me, and tonight I'm going to prove just how perfect. Da? Yes?" He growled near Dean's lips.
Omega swallowed loudly, his scent filled with both an intense arousal that sweetened on Castiel's tongue like homemade pie and a hint of fear. He already knew this one. And it made him want to growl and howl in frustration, because he knew that now Dean would start pulling away and it would just end up with him letting him go again. Or... maybe not. He wouldn't have to let him go this time. He had enough alcohol in him to keep him calm and submissive and not start panicking when it came to the point. And even if it wouldn't be the best first night together, at least they'd get somewhere. After all, which first time is perfect? There would be a hundred other opportunities to make up for it.
"Yeah," Dean replied, licking his lips. "Yeah... well, show me, Alpha."
His lips parted in a smile.
"Okay..." He kissed him softly on the corner of his lips, purring softly as he did so, before pulling away and even, though reluctantly, letting go of Dean. "I have to pay. It'll only be a moment. And then the rest of the night is ours."
Omega licked his reddened lips again before nodding in agreement, then bowing his head slightly in submission as he put an arm around his shoulders and guided him back to the bar.
Chapter 16
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bar was stuffier than he remembered, the sounds seemed distant and indistinct, and things a little more than six-seven feet away seemed shrouded in an invisible fog. He was probably totally drunk. It was the tequila. Or Jim's earlier. Definitely not the beer. He was good with beer.
He leaned into Alpha's side and took in his scent, filled with an excited musky smell. Wow... It was... just wow. Finding himself pinned between Cas and the wall, literally unable to run anywhere, made his Omega whimper and adjust his throat. And Dean almost did the same. He had to fight to talk a little normally instead of just... Damn! All he desperately wanted to do was turn around, bend over and spread his legs wide. He wanted it badly. And at that moment, it seemed like the best idea to agree to do it.
He slammed his belly into the bar counter.
Alpha pressed up against him from behind, his cock right against his ass, and put his hand on his hip.
"You want anything else? More tequila?" He asked with his lips almost at his ear.
Dean shuddered.
"I don't know... yeah... maybe."
He wasn't sure it was a good idea to drink. Something told him it wasn't, but the Alpha was so close. Alpha also seemed to think it was a good idea. So yeah, it was probably okay.
"One more tequila. No lemon or salt. Then I'll pay," Cas ordered the waitress behind the bar.
"One tequila will be here right away. But you'll have to wait for the boss to pay. He'll be back soon," the waitress said as she was pouring.
"Okay. I'll wait," Alpha agreed.
Moments later, a full glass landed on top of the one in front of him. He hesitated once more. Maybe he really would... Except Alpha picked up the glass and put it in front of his face.
"Drink," he ordered, so Dean took the glass and sipped from it.
"All of it."
"I don't want to be... completely out..." he muttered in protest.
"You won't be," the Alpha assured him, running a hand through his hair; Dean's Omega grunted and craned his neck, and he with her. The Alpha moved closer so that he could feel his warm breath on the exposed skin of his throat and hear his compelling growl. "Just relax nicely. It'll be better that way. Trust me... Omega," he whispered, this time brushing his lips against the back of his neck. "You don't want to be tense when I pull you into my knot. And that's what I'm going to do tonight. Many times. Moy prekrasnyy... Moy sladkiy Omega... Tol'ko moy..."
The alpha switched to his native tongue. Voice gruff, growling, and again seemingly angry, but at the same time so... wow! He whispered compliments in his ear. And dirty things. And everything about Dean seemed so distant and vague that they were in public. And that the glass was heavy in his hands. And he was hard and his briefs must have been hopelessly soaked. He must have smelled all over the pub. Horny, young Omega. Somehow he was vaguely aware of it. But he didn't care.
He drank the rest of the tequila. He let his hand with the glass drop a little too sharply, so the glass hit the bar. That was funny. He laughed and arched his back a little so his ass ground against Alf's crotch. He didn't even know why he was doing it. It was just something he wanted to do. Something he needed to do. And it was funny, so he laughed again as Alpha growled playfully behind him.
Then several confusing things happened at once.
He was vaguely aware of laughter and shouting somewhere behind their backs. Then the shattering of glass. He knew that sound well. A beer bottle. Suddenly an unpleasant dull pain shot from his stomach and he slid down the edge of the bar, surprised he didn't fall all the way to the floor. He must have grabbed the slippery, slightly damp wood. The world spun around in front of him and the pain was terribly strong, but at the same time, it felt distant.
"Fuck... what the hell..." he muttered, all confused, and began rubbing his bruised stomach absentmindedly.
From his left, he heard a loud, guttural Alpha growl that was somehow... familiar or something. Dad...? No, no, wait, he wasn't in the pub with his dad, he was with his Alpha. Yeah, it was Cas. Just as familiar, just a different sound.
He turned around.
His Alpha was standing a little spread-eagled, arms out from his body in what looked a little like Alpha pose, but was really just... yeah, half his back was wet and the fluid from one of his sleeves was dripping onto the floor. Judging by the smell that was spreading to the surrounding area, it was beer. Someone spilled beer on him. And the alpha growled angrily. And it was like... fuck, fuck, fuck. The last time he'd seen Castiel get into an argument with someone, it had been the two idiots in the store, who were probably eating fish right now. Or they were decomposing in a vat of lye. Or maybe in a landfill somewhere. Whatever. They were just dead.
"What are you looking at?" snapped a muscular guy only a few years older than Dean who faced Alf, and he must have been the same guy who'd thrown his beer at him, because he was holding an empty glass and his own suede jacket was just as faded as Alpha's back. "Do you know how much that jacket cost!"
Probably less than Cas's underpants, ran through his mind as he moved forward. He wasn't sure what he really wanted to do. His head was still light, but most of the drunkenness had subsided. Probably dispelled by adrenaline or something. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to be by his Alpha's side when he faced... He sucked in air. What the hell...? Beta? Was he totally drunk, high, or just wishing he could collect his own hands from the fan hanging from the ceiling? Sane Betas didn't usually open their mouths to Alphas, even when they were half a head bigger and about thirty pounds heavier than the Alpha in question.
He got to Cas's side and that gave him a view of Jacob. He appeared behind the muscleman's back, slightly to his right.
The Alpha held up a hand. It looked like an involuntary gesture, but it wasn't. It was a subtle command. Jacob simply froze in mid-motion, just staring coldly at the back of Beta's head.
Castiel slowly straightened and took a small half step forward.
"You crashed into me. And spilled on me," he said in a voice as calm as the way he'd spoken to the robbers, and just like then, the bitter almonds slowly rose to the surface over the pleasant scent of roasting cherries. If the other man had been an Alpha, he would have known what he was facing, but like this...Oh, man...Beta was so fucked up and he didn't realize it yet. And Dean was having a lot of fun. He knew he should be worried about what was going to happen, but man... He wanted so badly to see his Alpha kick Beta's ass.
"What? What did you say?" Beta asked, his head tilted as if he was trying to listen, his face contorted in a weird grimace.
"I said," the Alpha spoke slowly, clearly, but still with his accent, which was a little thicker than usual. And he took another half-step forward, "that you were the one who crashed into me and spilled your beer on me. It would be polite to apologize."
"Eh?" Beta made a disgusted sound. "I don't understand half of what you're saying, buddy. How are you talking? Learn English... asshole... or don't come here. Yeah, don't come..." He took a wobbly step forward and pointed a finger at Alpha. "Scum like you... scum who can't even speak... you have no business in our country." He waved his hand with the pint so close to Castiel's face that it missed by half an inch and would have offended his nose.
Dean's eyes glazed over. His Omega growled furiously. No one was allowed to hurt his Alpha. No one!
His primal instinct to protect screamed to knock some teeth out of the guy, and most of his alcohol-laden brain agreed. But a small one. A tiny part was still rational, and a simple calculation ran through it. Dean would throw a punch. Beta would hit him. Castiel breaks Beta's neck. Castiel ends up in jail or dead. Bad, very bad outcome.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from stepping between Beta and his Alpha. He hunched over and bared his teeth. And he didn't care that he had to look up to the man to show his fangs.
"Get away from my Alpha!" he growled.
Beta shot Dean a confused look, then laughed. Loud and amused, he took a step back, both arms outstretched as if he were hugging the room.
"Look at that knotless! He must be protected by Omega!"
He heard a growl behind him, which alone would have urged him to crouch if not for the still strong desire to protect Alpha and the knowledge that the growl wasn't directed at him. But the smell... God the smell was unreal. A rage so intense, but also so controlled, it was like someone had pulled a stinking bag over his head and then tightened the cord around his neck sharply. It was almost suffocating, and he knew the Alpha wasn't angry with him.
Crash!
The thud of metal hitting wood made him literally jump. The tense moment was gone. The growl behind him slid into a sharp gasp. The Beta Asshole stumbled, and if it weren't for his two buddies, he would have crumpled to the ground. And Jacob, who had been watching Beta, turned his head sharply toward the bar. Dean did the same and saw the Beta barman's sullen expression. He was behind the bar, holding a crumpled aluminum baseball bat. Oh yes, a multi-functional pub kicker cheaper than even the cheapest gun. And one didn't even have to learn how to use it. It just might not be very effective against Alphas. But he bet there was a stun gun somewhere under the bar. Every 'good' place had one.
"That's enough," the barman uttered in a firm voice before pointing his baseball bat at the provocateur and his friends. "Take your friend and drag him to the back. If you make sure he stays quiet, you get a free round."
I guess the bouncer was so drunk and so shocked by the blow to the bar that he allowed himself to be grabbed by two of his buddies and dragged away with only a weak protest. It wasn't until he saw him fall onto the chair where his buddies had thrown him that he felt the anger leave him. And the feeling that everything around him was floating. The booze rushed back into his head faster than it had left it before. Even his legs got a little weak and he actually had to grab the bar discreetly if he didn't want to slump into Alf's arms.
"And you..." the bartender turned to Alpha, and after addressing him he fell silent for a moment as if in hesitation. He was probably expecting more growls and anger, because that was how most other Alphas would act. Once pissed off, it was just hard for them to calm down, but not for Dean's Alpha. Castiel looked like he was calm. At first glance. Only the barman, as a Beta, couldn't sense that in fact the bitter smell of almonds almost completely covered the sweetness of the cherries, and even though the Alpha looked calm... no fangs or red eyes... he wasn't calm at all.
Shit.
"Sorry about them," the bartender finally spoke up. "All on the house of course, Alpha, and that shirt..."
"Let's go, Dean," Alpha spoke to him, as if he hadn't even noticed the bartender's efforts to say something, and grabbed Dean around the shoulder.
He resisted the urge to duck his head obediently and show his neck. He was perfectly able and willing to comply, not only because his instincts told him to, but because he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew the last thing he wanted to do now was piss Alpha off even more. Being a good little Omega was literally necessary at this point, and more importantly... he felt too drunk and exhausted to resist.
He let himself be led outside the bar without protest. The cold air was like a slap in the face. It blew some of the alcohol haze out of Dean's brain and also dispelled the almond scent, making it seem weaker. Only, it really was just an appearance. Alpha continued to be on the verge of rage. He was sure of that. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. A deep inhale through his nose and a slow exhale through clenched teeth, so the sound it made was something between a growl and a hiss.
He was trying to calm down.
Dean knew what he should do. His instincts told him to. It was pretty easy. Just pull Alpha's head into the crook of his neck and let him breathe in his Omega scent, which would surely calm him down. Like he did with Sam every now and then. And sometimes even with their Alpha. Only... looking at Castiel, at his tense back, clenched fists and bared teeth.... felt fear. Fuck yeah. He was scared. Really fucking scared. And for the first time in a long time, he realized again what the Alpha really was and what he was probably capable of. That realization slowly rolled through his alcohol-blunted brain, along with the fear of making even one wrong move. Rather, he waited motionlessly to see what would happen and breathed slowly, ignoring the chill biting into him.
"Wait by the car," was the first intelligible sound Castiel made, formed into words, before he gave Dean one dark blue glinting look and started across the parking lot to the old Toyota.
Wait by the car? Okay, he could do that.
He looked around. The car? Sure, you couldn't miss it, because it was big, black, and looked like a diamond in the rough among all the old crap. With a stumbling yet light step, he made his way to the car.
He rested his hand on the edge of the roof. The metal structure was solid, but of course it felt a little strange to be leaning against fabric instead of solid car body. Somewhere behind him, the trunk lid slammed. He turned at the sound and got a glimpse of the Alpha walking away from the Toyota with a brisk, purposeful stride. He had the wheel wrench with him. Dean blinked and frowned. He actually had an idea what Castiel was up to, so it didn't really surprise him when he picked one car, a black sedan of some sort, and swung it with the skill of someone who was clearly not doing this for the first time.
The first shot landed
The shattering of a headlight immediately followed by a loud car alarm echoed through the parking lot. Alpha, of course, was having none of it and swung a second time to hit the other headlight with perfect accuracy. He then almost gracefully turned the wheel wrench in mid-air and placed it in the windshield with one well-aimed shot. The glass cracked all over and only a thin safety foil still held it in the frame.
Either the Alpha was satisfied or he didn't want to wait for the owner who was sure to emerge from the bar at any moment. Either way, he turned on his heel and walked quickly towards Dean. Along the way he tossed wheel wrenc to Vadim, who watched the entire outburst of rage and destruction from the Alpha with an impassive face.
"Get in."
He didn't even flinch, just quickly did as the Alpha ordered, not only instinctively but deliberately trying to keep his gaze downcast and his back hunched to look as small and harmless as possible.
The driver's door slammed as Castiel got in, bringing with him a blast of bitter rage so strong it was impossible to tell if it helped at all that he had smashed someone's car. Maybe he could read something in the man's face, but he didn't dare look at him.
"Key," he ordered, his tone full of the growl born in his chest, and held his hand out in front of Dean.
A key? What the... fuck. He drove on the way here, didn't he? Yeah, yeah, he was driving. He must have had the key... somewhere. Somewhere in his jacket, I think. He couldn't remember, so he put his hands in his pockets and started rummaging. He came across bags of lube and a box of condoms. His heart sped up. And for a brief moment, he forgot what he was looking for in his pockets. Instead, he cast a quick glance at Alpha. The latter's expression was tautly cold, his eyes icy and his nostrils flared as he breathed rapidly. He didn't seem in the mood to go back to what they had planned earlier, and if he did...
He finally hit the key.
He quickly shoved it into Alpha's hand.
The car started just as people coming out of the front door to see whose car was whistling. The Alpha paid no attention to the emerging crowd, just put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. A few turns of the wheel, they slid smoothly across the parking lot and were on the road. Dean still managed to cast a quick glance over his shoulder, thinking he might have seen Beta from the bar by the smashed car. Though it could have been someone else, too. He wasn't sure, and they'd hit the road so fast he hadn't had time to check.
The lights passed quickly outside the window, overtaking one car after another and blowing through several traffic lights on orange. It wasn't like the Impala, though. He didn't recognize every honk or feel every turn of the steering wheel, he was absolutely sure they were accelerating. They were probably already well over the speed limit, and the brutal way the Alpha was overtaking the other cars was fine too.
Normally he didn't mind driving fast, but driving fast in the city. That was different. They weren't going straight. They were swerving, the cars honking around them, the neon signs and illuminated advertisements looked like blurs, and the way the car was going was so light it made it feel like they were flying. He hated flying. He wasn't some damn bird.
He dug his fingers into the seat and tried to breathe through his nose at the nauseous feeling that rose up his spine and threatened to settle in his stomach. He preferred to close his eyes. Not that it would do any good. The world was spinning even with only the darkness of his own eyelids in front of him.
He found himself pushed into the seat by a force and then thrown violently forward.
He quickly opened his eyes to find that for perhaps the first time in a while they had stopped at a red light. He was a little relieved, but only a little. A deep breath only brought him another gust of Alf's bitter anger. Though not quite as strong. Maybe... He turned slowly towards him.
Castiel's expression was still impassive, his lips tightly pressed together, but he was no longer panting as if he'd just run a marathon, and overall he exuded less aggression than he had a moment ago.
Dean licked his dry lips.
Should he break the silence? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't thinking at all. His brain was still foggy and his stomach was churning on water from the devilish ride and all the shots.
"Where... are we going?"
His own voice scared him so much he almost crouched.
"Home," the Alpha snapped; Dean froze. It was then that Castiel looked at him for the first time since leaving the parking lot, and his expression suddenly softened. His mouth slackened, his eyelids drooped, and he let out a long exhale. "We're going to my place. As promised." His hand moved to Dean's knee. "We won't spoil tonight," he added, leaning in to press his lips, moist and warm, against his jaw.
He closed his eyes under the touch, exhaled, and tilted his head to give Alf better access. Taking that as a challenge he strayed his lips higher up to Dean's lobe and his hand... He opened his eyes sharply as a hot, heavy, large hand clamped over his cock without any introduction. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't gentle let alone pleasant. When his hand shot out to stop Alpha's rough palm, it was more of a reflex and a bit of a futile attempt too. Even at his best, he probably wouldn't have had a chance to push his hand away. Now he felt all covered by the heavy blanket and his fingers were clumsy.
"Perfect. Just as I thought," he muttered a compliment in his ear that he barely noticed.
There was only one thing he could focus on, and that was the feeling that his sensitive and currently completely soft vessel might be crushed by the force of the Alpha, who was still reeking with rage.
"Oh... gently, tiger. Gently... Sensitive places," he muttered in an attempt to turn it into a joke, but his heart began to beat wildly.
He could feel Castiel's smile on his face.
"You can lift my spirits in so many ways..." the Alpha growled, squeezing his cock again, probably to indicate that this was one of them.
He bit his lip to stifle a gasp that was sure to be anything but aroused, and he could barely control himself from digging his nails into Castiel's forearm. What he couldn't prevent was his legs clamping together in an attempt to protect the sensitive areas that had been so roughly handled.
"Alpha..." he breathed through dry, stiff lips.
Suddenly, before he could say more, the intruding hand was gone and Alpha with it.
Dean had perhaps never been so glad in his life that the light had turned green. But the feeling of relief lasted only until the car started up again, violently. He grabbed the door handle. And he cast a quick glance at Castiel.
In the few weeks they'd known each other, the Alpha had surprised him more than once, and he'd managed to learn a few things about him, too. Alpha was fucking dangerous, murderous, domineering, rich, sometimes weird, knew nothing about movies, and... wasn't gentle even at his very best. Now was not his finest moment. He was always on edge. He was always on tenterhooks. And Dean... suddenly felt like he was back to square one. He was sitting in the back seat of a huge Mercedes again, squeezed into the corner of the seat and being driven by a complete stranger in an Alpha to somewhere unknown, where he was going to be thrown on a bed and get a knot in his ass whether he wanted it or not. And there was nothing at all exciting about it.
A heavy weight settled in his stomach.
His brain raced lazily but purposefully, providing the worst possible scenarios of the Alpha throwing him on the floor just outside his apartment door, pulling down his pants just enough and fucking him without the slightest preparation. Just like that. Just to get the pent-up furious energy out of him.
He closed his eyes.
God... He hoped he could handle Alpha at least long enough to use something from his pocket. Fuck condoms, but the other one... He doubted he could get wet enough. He felt terrible. Like, really bad. He was hot and cold all at once, the world was spinning even though his eyes were closed and...
He opened his eyes sharply.
He felt bile in his throat and his mouth began to fill with saliva. He knew very well what that meant. The contents of his stomach decided to take a trip. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn't puke on Alf's expensive car.
"Stop!"
"Chto?"
"Stop! Fucking stop!" He managed to get out before he had to press his hand to his mouth.
He registered that the car had pulled up to the curb but hadn't quite stopped when he blindly groped for the handle, yanked the door open, and nearly fell out. He helped himself with his free hand, scrambled to a more or less upright position, and then lurched forward on wobbly legs toward the gray stone wall.
He dropped to all fours and successfully parted with a burger, fries, roasted almonds, two shots of tequila, a couple of beers and some Jim Bean.
His whole body was shaking from the exertion. Tears stung his eyes and his mouth was filled with a foul aftertaste. He felt terrible, even worse than he had a moment ago, but he still noticed the approaching footsteps. Unconsciously, he wondered what the Alpha would do now. Before he could think about it, the smell of vomit and the foul taste diluted with saliva caused his stomach to rise again.
A warm hand pressed against his forehead, preventing him from hitting his head against the granite wall. The other wrapped around his back to his stomach. The alpha held him tight and didn't let go as he turned his stomach inside out for the second time. Thankfully it was shorter that time and only juices and more booze came out, but it was still awful. He didn't want to experience it a third time, so he tried to breathe out the pain in his throat and the feeling of nausea mostly through his mouth. He couldn't smell the sour smell again, or the stench of beer that wafted from Castiel.
"Are you finished?" a voice near his ear asked.
"Yeah... I guess I am," he replied shakily.
"Okay. Get up," Alpha ordered, pulling him to his feet along with him.
He allowed himself to be manhandled as he didn't have the strength to resist, plus Alpha had him leaning against the wall a few feet away from the vomit, so he was quite content with his whereabouts.
"Sit down and stay. I'll be right back."
He obeyed the next command almost happily. He slid down the cold stone and sat on the equally cold ground. The chill did seep into his body through his jeans, and even the air he breathed was almost icy, but it wasn't actually uncomfortable. It cooled his heated body and helped to dispel the nausea a bit as well as focus his thoughts.
He looked around him.
It didn't look like some nice, rich residential area around here, but more like a business district. Wide streets with no hint of green, fucking tall buildings made of glass and granite, and nothing else or interesting anywhere in sight. Just Alpha's Maserati, sitting blinking and open just a short distance from the parking meter. And the Alpha nowhere in sight. A small shiver of panic ran through his body and his Omega, faint and confused, whimpered desperately in fear that the Alpha had abandoned him. But no, that was bullshit. He had a car here. He might have left without Dean, but he certainly wouldn't have left the car.
He let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes.
"Dean!"Someone said his name really loud and a hand landed on his shoulder.
He quickly opened his eyes and looked out into the dark blue depths that were staring back at him. Wow... where did Castiel come from all of a sudden? He hadn't seen or heard him coming at all. He must have fallen asleep or something.
"Rinse your mouth and take a drink," the Alpha instructed him as he pressed an open bottle of water into his hand.
He stared at it in confusion for a moment before he got it all figured out and then took a grateful sip. He rinsed off the remnants of his food and the aftertaste of the alcohol and spat it all out onto the ground beside him. God, that was such a relief. He put the bottle to his lips again and took a deep drink.
"Don't swallow. Otherwise you'll throw up again."
He obeyed, or at least tried to swallow smaller sips. Still, he poured the bottle into himself in record time. And when he finished it with a sigh of relief, he finally got a good look at Castiel. He was squatting at his side, oddly enough wearing a jacket, his lips drawn into a stern line and his eyes cold and impassive in the light of the street lamps. Dean allowed himself one sniff, where he even leaned forward a little, and had to conclude that the Alpha was still angry. How could he not be, too?
Everything was fucked up.
First someone had thrown a beer down his throat, then the same asshole had insulted him, and then... He remembered his own behavior and Beta's word about knotless. And yeah, he had to give him the benefit of the doubt. What the fuck was he even thinking, getting in Alf's way when he wanted to settle a score with Beta? He couldn't imagine Alpha liking being humiliated by Omega protecting him. And to make matters worse, Dean had ended up nearly puking all over the beautiful leather upholstery in his brand new car. All that was left was fucking, but that was probably out of the question too, because he probably didn't look very attractive. And he certainly didn't smell good either. As far as he could assess his own smell, he reeked of fear, pain, vomit, and beer. Not much of a combination.
In sum, most of today's shit - in one way or another, intentional or unintentional - was his fault.
"Sorry, Alpha," he said, giving in to the urge to apologize for everything that had happened today.
"It's not your fault, it's mine," Castiel said, much to his surprise. "I should have realized that as an Omega, you can't handle as much alcohol as I can. Or a Beta."
That was a load of bullshit again. Omegas could drink just like everyone else. But he didn't have the strength or the will to argue about it. All he wanted... needed... in his heart was for his Alpha to stop being angry with him. He wasn't drunk or tired enough to not realize how pathetic that need was, but that didn't mean he stopped feeling it.
He shook his head.
"Not for... vomiting. Well, not just for it. For everything... for what I did in the bar..."
The alpha tilted his head in incomprehension.
"What did you do?"
"I know you don't need... protection... you know from Omega and all... I just..."
"Dean. Look at me!" Alpha ordered, but he didn't wait for him to obey, just cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced him to look up into his eyes. "Don't ever apologize for protecting yourself, me, or our pups. Never!"
He blinked in confusion. Puppies? Hmm, okay, that was a bit... yeah, he wasn't going to think about that. And the other one was... what?
"You're an Alpha, it's just... it must be... um... humiliating to be protected by just... an Omega. Like he said... knotless and stuff," he was half aware that he was babbling, and also a little taken aback when he actually scolded the Alpha, but it wasn't like he was telling him he didn't have a proper knot. That wasn't what he meant. And he hoped Cas understood.
"That Beta is an idiot, and any Alpha who doesn't appreciate the protection of his Omega is an idiot too. In my country... in Russia..." he moved his hand to Dean's cheek, but continued to hold it so they had to stare into each other's eyes. "Our Omegas and women can take care of themselves. They are fierce and tough, not like here in America. The Omegas here are pampered like greenhouse orchids. They're not to be looked at unfairly." He grinned one corner of his lips, half disgusted and half amused. "Russian Alphas appreciate strong Mate. I appreciate my strong Mate. I am yours, as you are mine, and if you ever see a danger, do not hesitate to remove it by any means necessary. Whatever you do, you will never humiliate me. I will be proud of you."
He knew it was just bullshit, but it was bullshit that was very nice to listen to, especially with his head buzzing like a beehive and Alf's voice so soothing in its dominance. He leaned back into the warm palm of his hand with a sigh, not even minding that it smelled like beer. He could have easily cuddled Alf's hand for hours.
"Dean!" A caressing hand patted his cheek. "Don't sleep, Omega. And get up."
Getting up was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn't have a choice because Castiel wasn't going to wait for him to get up on his own and just grabbed him in his armpits and lifted him to his feet like he didn't weigh a pound.
"Are you going to puke some more?" He asked the tricky question.
Dean thought hard, checked the feeling in his stomach - it was sore and a little lurching, but also empty - and found that it was already good.
"I don't have anything..."
The alpha measured him critically, but probably concluded that not having anything to throw up was guarantee enough that he wouldn't throw up again, and wrapped his arms around his waist and led him to the car. He obediently slid into it and leaned back into the nice warm heated seat.
He turned at the creak of leather as Castiel settled into the driver's seat. As he slammed the door behind him, most of the lights went out, practically, except for one small light on the ceiling and the glowing alarms behind the steering wheel, even the brightness of the touch screen faded. What remained was mainly the light of street lamps and some glowing shop windows on the other side of the wide street, which filtered through the dark glass of the car. In that light, the Alpha had an aristocratic profile and an eagle nose or some shit like that he'd learned about in the English class he'd taken with some young, not yet internally dead professor at his last school. According to Dean, Castiel just looked stern and angry.
"You're still mad?" He asked, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The alpha gave him an oblique look.
"Less so, but yes."
"Do you want to make you feel better?" He let out another question, a suggestion really, and then bit his lip.
It was a stupid idea, and from the flat expression he turned towards him, Castiel thought so too, but... It didn't matter what he was told, he got the impression that at least some of the shit that happened today was his fault. And he wanted to make it up to Alf. At the very least, he could blame him for not doing anything right today. He didn't even feel in any condition to get down on all fours and let Alpha do the rest of the work, so...
He used the dashboard for support and shifted in his seat so he could lean comfortably against Castiel's crotch.
"Actually... I've never... you know..." he reached for the simple belt buckle and managed to undo it surprisingly smoothly for not feeling his fingers. "So just... if I was doing it wrong... just tell me, okay?"
The button loosened with some difficulty, but eventually the parchment slipped through the hole and the zipper went on easily after that. Dean was sort of trying not to rub himself completely against the fabric the whole time, but it was hard. He stumbled a few times on Alf's cock, which, at least on those fleeting touches, seemed quite soft, but still impressive. And through the thin fabric of the white boxers that appeared in the open fly, warmth radiated into Daen's hands. And the scent was rising. An incredible, exquisite, musky scent that was almost as strong as the one on Castiel's neck. It made his saliva pool.
He leaned toward it, purely on instinct, just to breathe it in, and the world crumpled before his eyes. A large, firm hand settled on the back of his head, its grip preventing him from smashing his face humiliatingly right between Castiel's spread legs.
Under the weight of the hand, he closed his eyes and remained in anticipation of what was about to happen.
He assumed that now Alpha would pull out his cock and while holding it by the throat, simply fuck his mouth. Somehow that seemed like the best idea too. Even when he was completely sober he didn't know what to do, and now he was feeling too lightheaded to think about giving a proper blowjob.
He didn't expect the Alpha to lift his head.
"Sit on the seat and buckle up," he ordered, letting go.
He blinked in confusion, but started to do as he was ordered. It wasn't until he was groping for the belt, a little late, that it dawned on him what had actually happened. The alpha didn't want a blow job. The alpha refused it. And that was... oh, well, wow. The anguished whimpering of his Omega caught up with him somehow belatedly, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.
"You don't want to...?" He asked, his own voice sounding like a humiliating whine.
Castiel looked up from fastening his belt, a frown on his face, but when their gazes met, Alf's face melted a little. The tension around his lips remained, yes, but he didn't look angry, more tired.
"Za chto ty menya nakazyvayesh'...?" he muttered something in his tongue that sounded resigned, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking up at Dean again. "I want to, but not when you're threatening to puking in my pants. Now buckle up."
Yeah... that made sense even to his sleepy brain, but... oh there was another option. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of lube.
"I got this..." He triumphantly showed it to Alf. "Can I at least..." He made a hand gesture eloquent enough for everyone to understand each other.
Castiel did not look pleased.
"Do as you're told, Omega."
He winced a little under the sternness in his tone, quickly shoving the pouch back into his pocket and reaching for his belt. One click and he was strapped firmly into the heated seat. The alpha gave an approving grunt, then shifted into gear and slid away from the curb back into traffic.
Dean's eyelids were suddenly heavy and the light coming through the windshield a little uncomfortable, so he decided to close them for a moment. Wherever they were going, Alpha would be sure to let him know when they got there.
Notes:
Dictionary:
Moy prekrasnyy… Moy sladkiy Omega… Tol'ko moy… - My beautiful... my sweet Omega... only mine
Chto - What?
Za chto ty menya nakazyvayesh'...? - What are you punishing me for?Notes:
I have no regrets.
Dean has no stamina whatsoever. If he wants to stay with Castiel, he's gonna have to toughen up his liver. :-D
Chapter Text
He splashed water.
"What the fuck...?!" He shouted, and then his own scream dug into his ears, his eyes, his head, his stomach, and his hair, and he just groaned in sympathy and slapped his hand over his... wet face? Why was his face wet? Why was there so much light around? What died in his mouth? Where was he, anyway? And where was his shirt?
All these questions might have been answered by his brother, who stood over him with a stern expression, holding a glass that was still dripping drops. At least he knew where the water came from.
"So, are you finally awake? It's almost a quarter to eight," Sam said in an unnecessarily loud voice.
"Shhh, puppy. Not so loud," he mumbled through his somewhat dry lips, reaching for the corner of the pillow to fold it over his head and muffle the hum of the air conditioner and the distant bustle of the road. Oh, and Sammy's annoying, muttering voice, of course.
The little alpha growled emphatically and yanked the blanket off him.
"You need to get up, dumbass," he said firmly, in fact it almost sounded like an attempt at an order; Dean threw him a surly look from under the pillow. "Do you even know that you came home at almost two in the morning horribly drunk?" He asked pointedly, starting to take the pillow from Dean as well. "What were you and your Alpha doing?"
Alpha... He was with...
A cold feeling washed over him.
Oh, shit.
He was with Castiel yesterday. Slowly, he was beginning to remember. Especially the time they'd walked into that nice sports bar, Smiling Bulldog's, had a burger, a beer, a bourbon, talked about music and movies, and then... then Dean's memories had started to get fuzzy and sketchy. He remembered getting sucked behind dumpsters, some little bar fight and a lot of broken glass, but then nothing. Darkness. Empty.
His mouth tasted foul of alcohol and vomit, so he suspected he'd dumped the contents of his stomach sometime during that white space, but that was about all he was sure of. He didn't know what else he was doing...
His heart raced and an icy weight settled in his stomach.
"We had fun," he snapped at Sam's question and started to get up.
He needed to go to the bathroom. Partly because he was eager to brush his teeth and also wanted to check on some things. But his stupid little brother was in the way, his arms folded across his chest. He looked a lot like their Alpha as he was about to give Dean a lesson on his behavior. At this point, he wouldn't want to hear it from his dad, let alone his stupid brother, so he pushed Sam away a little roughly - the little Alpha half growled in irritation and half made a surprised noise - and quickly made his way to the bathroom.
Carefully locking the door behind him, though he only did it when he wanted to jerk off, he leaned back against the sink and looked down at his naked torso.
He had no hickeys or bites on him, and even his scent glands were completely intact. They weren't even reddened or enlarged from anyone paying any attention to them last night.
When he glanced down, he found that his pants were dirty at the knees, as if he'd been kneeling or on all fours somewhere. Maybe when he threw up, although it didn't look like dirt and piss from the toilet, and besides, the toilet at Bulldog's was pretty clean.
With somewhat stiff fingers, he started unbuttoning his pants. He didn't feel like anything had come near his hole during the night. His ass didn't hurt or feel used, but he also felt generally fuzzy and hungover.
He pulled his jeans down along with his underwear and looked.
He was wearing his best briefs. The black ones he'd been saving for occasions when he was absolutely sure he'd score, which was why he'd worn them last night. He'd assumed they'd sleep together and he didn't want to feel embarrassed when someone like Alpha Castiel stripped him down to see the old, faded grey underwear he normally wore. The only downside to them... though now the upside... was that everything was showing. So he immediately noticed the sparse white dried coating of his own juices and... absolutely nothing else was there. Nothing that looked like cum, either his own or someone else's. No blood. Nothing.
Sure, there was still the possibility that Alpha had used a condom, but if they'd slept together, Castiel's scent would probably be stronger on his body. And he definitely hadn't showered after the action, he smelled too much of alcohol, bar, vomit, and his own sweat for that.
He was a little relieved.
No cum, blood, smell, bite or discomfort in his ass. It looked like nothing had happened last night. And if anything, it was at most handjobs or blowjobs.
He looked down at himself again.
He didn't feel different or anything, but that was bullshit anyway. Having someone stick their dick up your ass or somewhere else didn't really change you. Even Alpha's cock wasn't a magic wand that magically transformed you. He remembered the first time he was with a girl, it wasn't like a... wow effect either. He was pleased with himself, sure, but still, an hour later, he was just loading their stuff into the car and getting ready to drive off like nothing had ever happened. So if something happened that night, he wouldn't know it. The only one who could tell him what he was doing was Alpha.
There was a knock.
"Is everything okay? You're not puking or anything?" Sam asked from the other side of the door.
"All good!" He called, and quickly resumed undressing. "I need a shower pretty badly, buddy, so find something for breakfast and make me some coffee."
A disgruntled grunt could be heard from behind the door, and then footsteps as the little Alpha moved away towards the kitchen.
He climbed into the shower. He ran the water as hot as he could, which wasn't much, and leaned his head against the cracked tiles on the wall.
He definitely wasn't planning on attending first period today.
°°0°°
Every school had a corner where you could hide when you wanted to skip class. From the least convenient ones, like empty classrooms and toilets, to classic ones, like containers somewhere in the back of the campus, to crafty hiding places, like the basement or, conversely, the technical areas under the roof. You usually had to have keys to those already, which occasionally someone managed to steal from the janitor, the cleaning lady or one of the professors, or you had to know the code to the door if the school was into modern shit.
Dean had chosen a classroom that was being renovated as his resting place. According to Becky, it had been that way since the beginning of the school year, and not much had been happening because of some wiring issues (although someone claimed that a dead body had been found in the wall and the classroom was a crime scene). Anyway, no one went in there and it was locked with a simple lock that he was able to open with a paperclip and a large pin he had picked up in his Home Care class and left stored in a locker. Call him Houdini.
The classroom was full of hazards, like wires sticking out of the wall, exposed flooring and unsecured window frames. Just things that kids or idiots could use to hurt themselves.
He didn't care what it looked like, or that it was leaking moisture from outside, it was quiet and there were no teachers, as they lived under the assumption that the classroom was carefully locked.
He grabbed some chips and orange juice, both from the vending machine, and sat down against the only wall not covered by plastic, which looked newly painted, and pulled out his cell phone. It had messages on it from friends asking where he was and then messages from Alpha. He quickly replied to all his friends that he was glazing the first hour, but that he was looking forward to this afternoon, and then opened a conversation with Castiel.
He scrolled to the last two messages.
Castiel: Good morning, Dean.
Almost an hour break and then:
Castiel: Let me know when you sober up.
He was sober now, but he wasn't feeling his best. His stomach was still in the water and his head was a dull pressure. But he was well enough to answer Castiel, even if he wasn't sure he wanted to talk to him. Luckily it was a few minutes after nine, so the Alpha was probably sleeping like a baby.
Dean: I'm alive
Dean: and I'm at school
He clicked over to Facebook and started scrolling through his feed, which was of course filled with Becky's statuses. There were some links to fan fiction on the Vampire Diaries, and some weird, obscure books from the late nineties about guys who hunted ghosts. In between was a link to her article in the school paper about dealing with Omegas in the media and the social implications of that dealing, and a New York Times article about the first appearance of Crimson in almost two years, when the police said it wasn't available in the city.
Much to his surprise, an alert popped up that he had a message from Case. He hadn't expected to still be awake.
Castiel: I know you're at school. How's the hangover?
He frowned a little.
Alf's message was perfectly normal. He couldn't help his thoughts from wandering back to the blank spot in his memory. Did the simple question mean that nothing had happened last night, or did it simply mean nothing to Alf and so he had no reason to behave differently? Or had they fucked and it was so bad he didn't even want to talk about it? And if he asked now if they'd had an affair, would he answer?
Yeah, he probably would. He probably wouldn't hesitate for a second. If he'd found out nothing else about Alf in the time they'd known each other, the fact that his answers were brutally honest was impossible to miss.
The question was whether Dean really wanted to know. He'd come to the conclusion that they hadn't fucked, but the little worm of doubt was there and he wasn't sure if he'd rather feed it by not asking Castiel. Or he might as well find out the harsh truth.
He put his fingers to the keyboard and began to think of the right way to phrase it. He should just ask 'Did we fuck last night?' It would be the easiest and quickest. Like ripping off a band-aid. And he'd get his answer immediately.
He hesitated. His hands dropped a little with his cell phone, and he remained staring at the blinking line in the answer box.
The thought of Alf's answer being a 'yes' didn't make him feel good. But if it was, it just happened and there was nothing he could do about it. If nothing else, he'd at least like to know what Alpha thought of it. If it was at least... somewhat important to him. And yes, he knew it was a ridiculous desire. Of course, it wasn't really important to Alpha. They weren't in love or anything. Dean just wanted to know if he'd totally fucked up the first time, which, given that he didn't even remember it, he quite possibly had.
He had to know the answer, and he had to know what Alpha was thinking, so instead of typing a response, he clicked on the video call.
And immediately regretted it. He even almost ended the call, because what the hell was he doing? But in the end, he decided not to give in to his fear. If he wanted to find out not only what had happened that night, but what the Alpha thought about it, it wasn't enough to just text or call him, he had to see him. It was the only option. It was better to smell him now, because Castiel was even more honest in his scent than he was in his words. But seeing his face had to be enough. It might have seemed to the untrained eye that the Alpha had no expression most of the time, but Dean could pick up on all the subtle nuances. The way the corners of his eyes lifted when he was amused, the way the lines around his eyes and mouth deepened when something pleased him, or the way his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared whenever Dean leaned in.
Yeah, so he definitely had to see Alpha.
The phone rang and rang and Dean's nervousness grew. Maybe his Alpha wouldn't answer. Maybe he'd fallen asleep or... did he even know how to take video calls? Did he know what it was? Oh, shit. He hadn't given it a second thought. Their Alpha wasn't a big fan of technology. Texting, email, and simple calls were the only things he was willing to use. Castiel was his father's age and had once said he didn't trust computers. Maybe he didn't even know how to use them. His phone may have looked modern, but his MP3 player was a prehistoric dig.
The call finally connected.
Castiel didn't seem confused or surprised; he wore his usual calm expression. He also seemed to be lying comfortably in bed, as his black-padded headboard rose behind his back and he was propped against a fluffy cream pillow. And he was wearing a dark blue robe that covered his shoulders, but not so much that you couldn't see a bit of his scent glands, the groove between his collarbones in which lay a gold cross hanging from a gold chain. And then an even bigger piece of tattoo than the one he'd seen yesterday. It looked like a spike made up of intricate ornaments. Nothing he could include in the disputed encyclopedia of prison tattoos he had in his head, but it certainly looked quite precisely crafted. Certainly better than how they would have done it behind bars.
He licked his lips.
"Hey, Alpha..."
"Hello, Dean," Cas returned his greeting with complete calm, raising his eyebrows just a little. "Shouldn't you be in class?" He asked as calmly as ever.
Dean was at least relieved that he hadn't unnecessarily embarrassed Alpha.
"I didn't feel like it."
"I see." He nodded. You could see his hand reaching somewhere to the side, only to reveal his hand with a pack of cigarettes. With a practiced flick of his thumb, he flipped the lid off, tilted the pack so that a couple of cigarettes half slipped out, and finally pulled one out with equally practiced lips, "Are you waiting out a hangover?" He asked, the cigarette caught in the corner by a golden fang, and tossed the pack back from where he'd taken it.
"Sort of."
He took a lighter from the same spot out of the picture. It was old and plastic and fumbled, but Dean could still make out quite clearly a very muscular man in a pair of tiny briefs in the colors of the American flag. A flick, a swipe, and then Alpha put the lighter away.
"A good helping of herring and a shot of slivovitz helps me."
He wasn't sure if he was more disgusted by the idea of fish in general, fish for a churning stomach, or more booze, but it certainly sounded disgusting.
"Bleh!" He blurted out in utter disgust. "You're a monster!"
The alpha puffed out a puff, his corners lifting in a characteristically amused grin and his eyes twinkling.
"I've been told."
He chuckled at his little joke, the smile remaining on his face for a moment before dissolving into the uncertainty in which he lowered his eyes for a brief moment. He still hadn't worked up the courage to ask about yesterday, so he decided to try and take a roundabout way of asking and give himself a little extra time.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" He asked, actually wondering. By this time, the Alpha should be harmless to the rest of the world.
"I can't sleep after last night," he replied, bringing up the subject nicely, and blew another cloud of smoke.
"And what happened last night to make you not sleep?"
Oh dear, that was such a stupid question to let out of your mouth again, Winchester, he thought to himself, and as he watched Alf's expression and the way he tilted his head slightly to the side, even he thought it was stupid.
"Don't you remember?"
It was a simple question that he could either answer with a lie, which Castiel hated and would probably somehow mysteriously know he was lying. And if not mysteriously, then after he'd asked Dean a few follow-up questions. Going with the truth was probably best.
"Most of it... I think. Probably not all of it..."
"What's the last thing you remember?"
He wrinkled his nose and thought. He had clear memories of a recounting of his favorite horror movie, 'The Swamp Alive' in which intelligent mud from a radiation-irradiated swamp got into a lake a bunch of teenagers were swimming in, and one of them got the mud in his mouth and turned him into a rotting zombie. Just a great movie. Seen it four times. Anyway....
"We were talking about The Swamp Alive and then it got choppy. I think we got into a fight of some sort and I know for a fact that I puked because I had a dead skunk in my mouth that morning. That's all..."
"Hmm..." growled Alpha, reaching out of the picture to hand himself a small glass ashtray, which he placed on his chest and tapped his cigarette into it. "That's quite a lot for what you looked like towards the end," he remarked, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke before continuing, "Some Beta spilled beer on my back and instead of apologizing like a civilized person, he had complaints about my accent and nationality. Clearly his parents had failed miserably in their upbringing. He needed a lesson in manners, including in particular the necessity of polite apologies."
The reminder of the spilled beer helped him remember a few more snippets. He remembered quite clearly someone - Castiel himself...? - smashing a car with a wheel spanner. And when he heard the way the Alpha had spoken of 'a lesson in manners' he guessed that translated it meant that they had not only smashed up Beta's car, but probably his own as well.
"Is he..." he didn't finish, just vaguely indicating with a finger around his neck. The classroom may have been deserted and the hallway was quiet as classes were in session, but as his dad had taught him; there was no shortage of caution.
You could never be sure who was watching or listening, and you were never supposed to talk openly about anything illegal over the phone.
"No. Of course not," Alpha replied. "But I'm sure he won't forget last night for some time."
"Um, well... and then?"
"Then we went to my place..."
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.
So there it was. They were going to his place. How else, too. They were meeting how many...? Three or four weeks? Surely the Alpha wasn't going to wait any longer when he had a young, fertile Omega at his disposal. It was a miracle, or a strange twist of fate, that he hadn't just thrown him on the nearest flat surface and fucked him like he surely wanted to by now.
"Everything okay, Dean?"
He opened his eyes and met the scowl Castiel was casting at him through the screen.
"Yeah. I've got a bit of a headache," he didn't lie, there was a dull pressure in his head that could be classified as pain.
"You looked like you were going to puke again for a while."
"No. I'm fine." He conjured a smile that made his jaw ache. "What did we do at your place?" He asked as dispassionately as he could.
"We never got to my place," the Alpha surprised him with his answer. "We were somewhere halfway there when you almost threw up on my car. Luckily, I stopped in time. Then I took you back to your motel," he stated, stubbing out his cigarette before putting the ashtray out of sight.
Wait... what? Sure, at some point he must have taken him to the motel or had him taken, but before that... Did he really just take him to the motel? That was it? It's like... nothing happened? It was kind of hard to believe, but it didn't seem like Alpha wasn't telling the truth. There wasn't a shifty glint in his eye, or genuine amusement or mischief, things Dean could easily detect in the blue lagoon. Besides, why would he lie at all? Even if he was completely vain and just lying half-conscious the whole time, for any Alpha, even that would be a reason to brag. He got Omega. Even an Omega he thought was his. And that was the main thing.
"You took me to a motel?" He asked. He had to make sure.
"Yes." He nodded. "You don't even remember that?" he asked, his head tilted a little. "When I dropped you off, you seemed pretty sane, even if you did have to walk to the door along the walls." He frowned a little. "I probably should have taken you in, but you seemed to be getting the hang of it and I honestly wasn't in the mood to take care of a light drinker like you."
"I don't normally drink that much."
That was true. He liked beer and he really liked going to bars where he could stay out until dawn and yeah, he probably didn't always come back completely sober, but never completely drunk. He also liked to take a sip of his dad's whiskey or bourbon now and then, but always just so he wouldn't know it, or at least wouldn't feel the need to comment on it. But if he got drunk, really drunk, not keeping his temper, it was always with beer. Perhaps he never mixed hard liquor with beer the way he had yesterday when he was trying to keep up with Castiel.
Alpha raised an eyebrow.
"I thought so," he remarked neutrally. "You'll have to work on the hardness of your liver. My Omega can't be put down by what I drink on an ordinary Wednesday night."
He squinted his eyes as he assessed how much she was making fun of him.
"You're mocking me, aren't you? I'm suffering here and you're normally making fun of my suffering!"
"Partly..." he let out a frown as he shrugged slightly so his robe came off, revealing a bit more of his scent gland wall and another part of the tattoo that was adjacent to the one on his chest. Still, there wasn't enough visible for Dean to really know what was depicted on his chest. "But the truth is, with that little stamina, you wouldn't survive a Russian Sunday lunch, let alone a meeting with my friends. You really are a light drinker. You should watch out for that..." he added in an odd tone.
He rolled his eyes.
"Look, I normally know how much I can take, okay? But... you were there with me and I... I just went a little overboard, OK? I admit it..." He waved his hand.
"I get it. Still, take care of yourself. Me and my men can't be everywhere to protect you, and if you don't remember anything after a few glasses of bourbon, some beer and some tequila..."
"I'm looking out for you, Alpha. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."
Alpha gave him a long but unreadable glare.
"I know you do. My Tru Mate couldn't be more different. It's just that..."
Whatever Alpha was going to say was interrupted by a loud bell very quickly followed by the creaking of a door, a multitude of voices, and more movement. The hour ended and the hallway began to fill. There was just enough time for him to carefully sneak out and do the chemist a great honor by attending his class.
"The bell is ringing. I have to go." He gestured with his hand towards the door, then paused a little as an idea struck him. He knew Alpha would get a report on everything he was doing and where he was, and while he didn't like it, he had somehow managed to get used to the phantom presence of his people. But he had never told him of his plans ahead of time and now he thought maybe he should. "Oh, and I'm going out with my friends today, so if I don't hear from you..."
"With friends? What kind of friends?" He cocked his head to the side questioningly.
"Kevin, Becky, Lisa... and Sammy of course. Just friends."
"Okay. Have fun... and Omega," he said as Dean was already reaching for the red button. "It was nice seeing you. We'll be calling each other more often."
"Yeah... yeah... I liked it too, Alpha," he agreed, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth; there really was something about just seeing Case. "And goodnight..."
One corner of Castiel's face twitched in a small smile before he cut the call first. Dean watched their chat for a few more seconds before shoving his phone in his pocket and starting to gather his things.
Chemistry was already waiting impatiently for him.
Chapter Text
The title 'Old games and food' was not the most imaginative, but again, it was absolutely apt. A good half of the space was occupied by old arcade game machines, the kind you see mostly in movies nowadays, with the typical crunching music and beeping mixed with nineties pop tunes. Some of the seating was folding tables and chairs, and a smaller number were booths in much better condition than the ones they had in the diner where he worked. And while he was at it... he loved the green apron his boss had made him wear last time. He really did. Because he could have ended up with a horrible red and yellow striped imitation of the old mcdonald's uniforms that the staff here were forced to wear.
To add to the atmosphere, the walls were covered with old posters advertising not only video games, but old game consoles and computers, as well as posters of movie classics of the era.
Becky looked delighted as she forced them to walk between the machines instead of settling down to eat, and Lisa nodded along, quite willing to be drawn into a conversation about nineties movies and TV shows. Kev... he kept to himself and didn't seem at all thrilled with Sammy's presence. Which on one hand was comical, because the little Alpha was doing nothing but paying absolute attention to some book he had downloaded there, head down and eyes glued to the screen of his new iPhone. On the other hand... Even though Sam was twelve - or, as he would say in a moment, thirteen - he was almost as tall as Dean, so taller than Kevin, and he was Alpha. If the other Omega only had experience with nodules like Forest, it was no wonder he didn't like being around any Alpha.
He threw an arm around Sammy's shoulders.
"Hey, buddy... you wanna go talk to Kev? He likes D.C. comics like you do."
"I'm reading," Sam replied without looking up from the screen.
"You won't get away with the book," he replied, snatching the phone from him, ignoring the fact that the little Alpha growled angrily and raised half his upper lip to show his fangs, as if he could intimidate him with this ridiculous behavior.
"Go make friends," he ordered to Sam's clearly visible displeasure.
"I'm not an Omega, you know that, right?" Alpha retorted; Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I don't feel the need to be friends with everyone right away, Dean. As an Alpha, I like my space. Plus..." he paused, casting a glance at Kevin, who was currently looking at the drawings on one of the machines, "he's an Omega. He might not be comfortable with me wanting to hang out with him."
He squinted his eyes suspiciously.
Sam was full of these crazy ideals about Omega rights and that all subgenders should be equal and whatnot. His school bag was so full of pucks with slogans and flags on them that it could be used in place of a bulletproof vest. No one had ever thought to tell him that he shouldn't be talking to Omega or Beta just because he was Alpha, so what's the big deal... oh, wow!
"You like Kevin!" He exclaimed triumphantly when he realized what was going on.
"Shhh!" the Alpha hissed, and a cloud of scent rolled out of him that was a mixture of deep embarrassment and anger. "That's not true, so shut up!"
"Oh-ho! Sammy's in love! Sammy's got a crush," he began to croon.
"Shut up! That's not it! He just smells like honey cookies. I want to eat him," he literally growled the last line, deep and heartfelt with true Alpha power born deep in his chest and clawing its way through his bared teeth. As soon as that possessive Alpha growl came out, Sam tensed all over, the color draining from his face along with what sour dismay filled his scent. "Oh my... what did I just..." He turned startled eyes towards him. "That's not how I wanted to talk about him, I swear! It was just... it just came out of me..."
"Hey, relax, pup, you're an Alpha and you like a pretty Omega." He patted him on the shoulder. "As long as you don't treat him like a stuck-up dick, it's not a problem."
"And what if I do, even if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll stuff scorpions in your briefs. Or clown noses. You get to choose." He shrugged casually.
The little Alpha gave him a look that said he wasn't amused by the answer.
He rolled his eyes. Sam was just a jerk. Most Alphas his age were already spending long private moments in the showers and starting to snoop, literally and figuratively, around the Omegas they were naturally drawn to before the Betas. Only his stupid brother was such a big intellectual nerd with his nose perpetually buried in books that, while he was fluent in Spanish and so good at math he could be an accountant on the spot, he hadn't figured out how to jerk off.
A little puppy crush might give him a little nudge, and at least Kev would see that not all Alphas were jerks.
"Follow him, be nice and talk about Batman," he instructed, grabbing his shoulders and nudging him towards Kev.
"He's the same age as you," Sam let out something of a protest.
"Yeah, well... I wouldn't plan a wedding yet, but you can be friends."
"'Jerk,'" the little Alpha grumbled.
"Bitch," he replied with a grin that widened even wider as Sam did as he suggested with a sigh and shuffled off after Kevin.
Leaning against one of the vending machines, he pulled out his cell phone to check for any messages from Alpha - it was after four in the afternoon, but the cabin was quiet. As if perhaps it gave him space to enjoy himself with his friends...? - he watched at the same time as Sam approached Kevin and struck up a conversation with him. He wasn't sure whether to groan loudly at the awkwardness he saw or giggle. Definitely giggle at Sammy's strange attempt to puff out his chest and show off his full height and emaciation to show what a dominant Alpha he was. Kevin, of course, wasn't impressed, and looked at Sam rather distantly suspicious, his head bowed appropriately, but his neck so hidden that it was all he could do.
"Have you chosen what game you're going to try?" Lisa's soft voice sounded to his left.
Turning his head, he almost brushed his nose against her cheek, so close she was standing. Her dandelion scent was soft, a little bland as it was with Beth, but pretty and quite a walk to the chamomile that rose from her hair. He could totally picture a meadow in bloom where he would lie down and take a nap. Nothing like the dense, hot cherry pie with almond crumble that somehow always stuck in his head and up his nose.
"No, not yet. I'm keeping an eye on that jerk over there," he nodded his head in the direction he suspected Sammy was.
It was partly true, he was looking out for his brother, but mostly he had absolutely no idea how any of these games were played. The last time he'd played anything other than a game on his cell phone was that summer at Bobby's. About a week after their dad announced they'd be at Bobby's for three long months, the old Alpha surprised them with a new TV and Playstation and some games when they got home from school. Only once was he lucky enough to get his hands on a working, old game machine, and that was some target shooting. There was a plastic replica of a gun in a faded blue color. He broke the record there.
Maybe they had something like that here, he thought, looking over Lisa's shoulder at the nearest aisle of machines.
"Let's find something," Beta decided before taking his hand, much to his surprise. "I've seen a few games for two here. Might be fun to play together," she continued, intertwining their fingers and heading off into the maze of machines, Dean leading the way.
He couldn't resist the sight of her nice, swaying ass in her black jeans, which looked especially good today. As if noticing his gaze, she turned over her shoulder and smiled with intensely red lips, looking up at him from beneath the lidded lids of her beautiful almond-shaped eyes.
He returned her smile.
Lisa laughed softly, tossing her head until a waterfall of scents flowed from her hair together so pleasantly reminiscent of spring that she simply leaned in and reached for him. And he only half-noticed that she'd switched the hands she was holding him with so she could catch her arm in his, press herself against him while not having to untangle their fingers forever.
"You know, notice you sniff me a lot?" she asked, a smile on her face and mirth in her eyes.
"I can't help it." He shrugged. "You smell like a spring meadow."
A little red tinged Lisa's cheeks as she laughed softly again, lowering her eyes for a small moment. When she raised them again, she was no longer laughing but just smiling.
"Can I sniff you?"
Her request was not at all surprising. In fact, probably all the Beta girls he'd been with had asked if they could do it or tried to sniff him without asking. He was never really sure exactly what Betas felt. He certainly couldn't smell all the subtle nuances, the scent compatibility, the emotions and feelings that the scent conveyed. At least, that's sort of how the difference between Alpha and Omegas and Beth's sense of smell was described in biology class. Anyway, all the ones he allowed to sniff agreed that they smelled like pine. One even said it was like her dad working in the sawmill. That was a little scary. Definitely the last thing he wanted was to smell like someone's dad. It totally killed the vibe.
"Sure," he agreed without hesitation, tilting his head to the side to give her good access to his gland.
She untangled their fingers and put her hand on his shoulder. Then she leaned back a little to steady herself as she rose on tiptoe and brought her nose to the crook of his neck. He expected her to sniff with all her might, trying to catch something, and he wouldn't have blamed her, but she sucked in the air very carefully and subtly. Once, twice, three times. She inhaled slowly, her warm breath tickling the skin of his exposed neck.
He was a little amazed at how gently and, somehow, socially appropriate she could smell, but then it dawned on him. She'd dated Marcus' cock, so she had experience with Alpha, and sniffing Omega was no different from sniffing Alpha.
"Pine," she said as she pulled away a little, but only enough so he could look closely into her eyes. "But there's something else... I can't figure it out..." she said thoughtfully, leaning forward again, but this time burying her nose all the way under the collar of his shirt. "Apple tree!" She exclaimed triumphantly, pulling away completely. "You smell like pine and apple blossoms. I like it."
His Omega grunted softly. It never hurt to have someone declare that they liked your scent, and coming from Lisa, he was particularly flattered. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned in to smell more of her floral scent.
"You smell nice too," he returned her flattery, allowing himself to go so far as to touch his nose to her hair.
She immediately tilted her head to the side while lowering it. A gesture of submission she made almost as naturally as if she were an Omega. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she'd learned that from Marcus, too. How long had she actually been with the angry knot? Becky had said something about them knowing each other in kindergarten and dating for 'forever' as Omega deflated it.
A hell of a long time in Dean's opinion.
"Don't do that," he said, gently cupping her chin and forcing her head up. "I don't need to see your submission."
"Oh... of course, you're an Omega..." she let out a frown, straightening up again so he could look into her eyes... well, at least as much as their height difference allowed. She put a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was with Marcus for a long time. I know how to treat an Alpha, but I have no idea how to treat an Omega. Most of my friends... and family friends... are Betas too, except Becky, but I didn't know her that well until recently. Then there's my mom's friend from work who comes over a lot, but I barely talk to her. She's so nice, smiling, Willi loves her, but she's so quiet. Just... totally Omega. Whereas you're... just you. Definitely nothing you'd expect from an Omega. That was supposed to be flattery, but it sounded terrible. And I'd rather stop talking, like right now..." She exhaled deeply, took another breath, and finally laughed nervously.
"Just act normal. I can take care of myself and I don't need your guidance or... stuff like that, OK?" He said, remembering a few times when Beta girls thought they had to make all the decisions since they couldn't do it as an Omega. Lisa didn't seem like that type, though, and hadn't acted like it until now... "But..." he shook his head, "you pick the first game."
Lise blinked before laughing happily, taking his hand again to lead the way.
°°0°°
Two hours flew by before he even realized how. He spent most of the time with Lisa, trying out different games and shoving enough money into the slot machines to last a week with a little effort, but it was worth it. Lisa's laughter was like the jingle of bells. She had small, warm hands, and when she put them on his back, on his arm or wrist, her touch was gentle. And she smelled like a meadow in bloom. Being in her presence and talking to her was as incredibly easy as it had been in a long time.
None of the thick, hot cherry pie with almond crumble that somehow always stuck in his head and nose. Or the baritone that sounded like its owner was gargling gravel. Or the firm, purposeful grip of a large hand that physically moved him from place to place as Alf pleased. Yeah, there was something about this behavior, something that appealed strongly to his instincts and his Omega, but it was also so... binding. Not like with Lisa. With her, he felt in control, that he could do and say anything and at most embarrass himself. And she didn't expect him to drop his pants right away tonight, and that was something that brought him relief. He wasn't even going to admit it to himself - what the hell? What was he? A clumsy virgin? An idiot who couldn't get laid? Of course not. He was great and the girls loved him - but that was it.
And Sammy had fun, too. Eventually, he managed to convince Kevin that if he wanted to eat him, it was only in the best way, and together they not only started playing, but actually started talking. About astronomy. And not the fun kind where Dean took a blanket and spread it out on the hood of the Baby and then he and the girls watched the stars and talked about how terribly far away they were and what constellations existed.
No, it was the boring kind with actual dates and discussion of the endless lunar wasteland. Who even cared about that? Not him, but if the two of them found common ground in this...? OK, fine. Their thing.
Dean had even managed to find the exact same game he'd played back then, only it was in perfect condition - or rather, it was a copy, because while there was no claim anywhere that they were the original machines, on the other hand, they didn't even admit that they were modern copies - and unfortunately, Alpha had been there the whole time. Like, he really didn't do anything for the whole two hours other than put money in the machine and try again and again to reach the record, but he couldn't. He certainly didn't need to get a coupon for a free meal, because he'd shoved enough into the game for one standard menu just in the time Dean had been watching him, waiting to see if he'd get away from the machine.
"He's not just going to walk away. I bet he'll throw it away when they close up here," Sammy pointed out from looking at the menu tucked under the plastic table top.
"Yeah, I get that impression too," he agreed, frowning at the sight of Alf, who had once again failed to reach the required time limit score and was about to shove more money into the gaming machine. "I'll just go tell him to get a move on, that others want to play the game."
"It's Alpha. He won't listen to you," Kevin said.
"Alpha or not, he should make room for other people. This place is for everyone, not just him," Becky joined in. "But he's suffering," she tossed her head toward the service counter behind which the poor guys in striped uniforms were taking orders, "precisely because he's an Alpha. If he was an Omega, or even a Beta, they wouldn't have let him play this long. I'm sure he doesn't even realize that his subgender allows him everything."
"I think he's a sad sight to behold," Lisa concluded, much to Dean's disbelieving surprise, which he also showed by the scowl he cast her. "Look at him... he's probably been here since we opened, playing an old shooting game and growling at the machine. Doesn't look like he has any family. Maybe he doesn't even have a job. It must be a terrible life for an Alpha."
He turned back to Alpha.
She was sort of right. Alpha was a chubby man in his thirties, dressed in old sweatpants with his knees pulled up and a canvas jacket, and on his feet were flip-flops that he stuffed over his warm socks. He looked like a complete failure in life, not just by Alpha standards but by everyone else's standards, and all he had left was a slot machine with a game for the kids. He really should do something about himself, but truthfully... his problems weren't Dean's problem. Dean just wanted to play a game.
"Especially since he shouldn't be throwing money at old games. This isn't even Vegas. He can't hit the jackpot here," he replied, but by then he was on his feet. "I want to play. Then he'll have to let me go."
"And how are you going to get him to do that?" Kevin asked with a little sneer in his voice.
"Hmm... I know how, unfortunately," Sammy commented.
"I'll tell you something, buddy... as an Omega, you can make any Alpha do literally anything, and do it this way," he snapped his fingers, "easily. Watch and learn, Kev."
"Try not to piss him off. You know Dad's not here to bail you out."
He shot his brother a look of would-be hurt. If he ever pissed off an Alpha, he almost always got himself out of it with the help of his knife or his quick feet, and the few times he didn't didn't even count. The statistics spoke in his favor. Unequivocally.
"Pissed off? How could I piss him off? I just want to tease his nose a little."
"And that's what usually pisses them off."
"That's not my problem."
He left his friend at the table and made his way over to Alf.
As he approached him he actually listened to his Omega and his instincts, which told him things like he shouldn't sneak up from behind or move too confidently. He didn't really want to upset the Alpha, just ask him normally if he could play a game. One game would certainly be enough to get him the highest score (he's improved properly in shooting since he last played it). And despite what his brother thought, he didn't have to make trouble every time the opportunity presented itself. Or at least most of the time he didn't... well, sometimes he didn't. And this particular Alpha really did seem more like a sad case of loser than a horny little knot. Even as he approached him, he found his scent to be so muted, the typical Alpha musk barely asserting itself among the cucumber and peppermint scents. It was nothing like Castiel's scent, which literally screamed at Dean that he was a fertile Alpha with whom he could have a whole bunch of puppies.
He'd tried not to think about Case throughout the afternoon and he certainly wasn't going to start now, so he set his thoughts on him aside and chose an alley that led him out from behind the machine the Alpha was playing. That way, he'd accomplished having Alpha in his sights right away, but of course it wasn't sight that had caught him first. It was his nose. Without scent blockers and wearing a shirt and pants that, except for yesterday, he'd worn in one piece for a week, no Alpha could miss his scent.
First he sucked in air with his head typically raised, then the gun in his hands dropped, and finally he turned his gaze directly on Dean.
"Hey, Alpha," he addressed him as kindly as he could manage at the moment, his shoulders deliberately left relaxed, but his hand ran absently and unconsciously over the edge of the machine.
The alpha looked flustered, smelling confused and looking around as if to make sure Dean was really talking to him and some other alpha standing behind him.
"Are you talking to me, Omega?" He asked in lieu of a greeting and with at least a bit of Alpha condescension in his tone. Apparently, there was at least a residue of dominance in him after all.
"Yeah, right. If that's okay, Alpha..." he added quickly, batting his eyelashes and almost bursting into laughter when the Alpha puffed out his chest, lifting his head and spreading a pleased scent around him. Dude... it was always funny how little it took to get his attention and get what he wanted.
"No. Not at all... do you need anything?" he asked, actually sounding pretty cool. No big Alpha poses, and when he took a small step towards Dean, there was nothing in his movements to warn him of a sniffing nose or groping hands.
"I've been watching you since we got here." He nodded to his friends. "You're really good at it, so I was wondering if you could teach me."
The alpha watched for a moment, as if unsure of what she wanted him to do, but when it finally clicked, he inflated like a balloon, just to puncture it. And with everything Alpha had in him, he stepped closer. He was even already handing him a plastic pistol, he didn't even have to ask if he could borrow it.
"I can do that. I sure can, Omega," he could only interrupt with willingness as he cleared a space in front of the screen. "Come stand over here."
Dean stood on the playing space, seemingly at Alpha's instructions, and deliberately held the light blue gun with its many colored stickers as awkwardly as if it were a banana.
"Have you ever held a gun before? At least in a game?"
"Never, actually," he lied without so much as a blink. He'd learned so well long ago that the lie didn't even show up in his scent simply because... he didn't care that he was lying to someone's face and he wasn't afraid of the consequences, so why should his scent change. Therefore, he could safely follow up with another lie. "My parents won't let me play any games where there are guns. They say it's too violent for the Omegas."
"This is just like shooting a real gun."
He pursed his lips, suppressing a disdainful snort.
He'd never played modern virtual reality games or anything like that. Hopping into a game room just wasn't high on the charts of what money should be spent on. And anyway, dad was of the opinion that knowing how to use a real weapon, set traps for animals or build a fire, was more fun and useful than playing games. So he didn't know about the modern super games, but the old ones certainly weren't anything like real shooting. The color of the gun be damned, the problem was with its absurd proportions, the fact that it was light as a feather and of course had no recoil. Shooting it was just pushing a button, one that looked like the hammer of a gun. But good hand-eye coordination, practiced in actual shooting, certainly didn't hurt.
"You have to hold it like this..." instructed the Alpha, and of course he took the liberty of adjusting his hands to more or less the correct position without asking. Subtly, he adjusted the position of his hands a little, and then bowed his head in a wannabe submissive gesture, just to hide a rueful smile as he saw the Alpha shove coins into the slot machine without hesitation to turn on the game for Dean. He didn't even have to ask him to do it, he just had to be and bear it when the man stood up for him and placed a hand on his upper back. It was pretty clear from the way he did it that he was eager to grab the back of his head, but he didn't have the courage to actually do it. All he could manage was a pleased grunt and an audible snicker, and that was from such a distance that Dean barely felt the Alpha's face tilted towards his head.
The words 'Ready?' appeared on the screen. From what he remembered, he had about half a minute before the game actually started.
"It's easy, Omega. Targets will appear on your screen. They have to try to hit the center of them because that's what gets the most points, okay? And you have a time limit."
"That's exciting, Alpha," he replied, having to bite his lip hard to stop the derisive giggle that escaped his lips as he felt Alpha's hand dig deeper into his back and heard a satisfied grunt.
Another sign proclaimed 'Steady!" and in quick succession, 'Go!" followed by the first target. It was easy as pie. Top right, bottom left, centre and so on and on. Oh man, nothing he couldn't do with one eye covered. Shooting an air rifle at a rat chasing around Bobby's junkyard was a thousand times harder, and he was super good at that too.
He still had eight seconds left in the time limit when he was shaking the last target and the screen flashed 'You're a winner!" along with the beacon mounted on top of the machine. Scoring full points on the first good wasn't a big deal, it really was easy. But he still relished the feeling of being a winner, which was multiplied by Alpha's surprised expression as he turned to hand him back his pistol.
"I think I did pretty well, Alpha. Don't you think?" He batted his eyelashes coquettishly one last time before laughing openly and shaking his head at the sight of Alpha's half disbelieving expression, the first hints of anger beginning to creep in. And with that, his scent turned bitter and he bared his teeth in a small snarl.
"Easy, buddy, easy," he said cheerfully, no longer showing the slightest hint of humility towards his secondary sex as he patted him on the shoulder. "You're not bad, but I'm just better."
"You...!" He growled, but at that moment a Beta in a striped uniform emerged from behind the machine, making him swallow another growl.
Beta measured them both with his gaze, and of course he threw a grin at Alpha.
"Looks like someone won here," he said with a wide grin.
"Yeah. Me," Dean claimed his win and walked over to the attendant leaving Alpha behind without much notice. "What do I get?"
If Beta was surprised at who had won, he was professional enough not to show it and simply turned his beaming smile full of mirth towards Dean.
"Congratulations! You get a coupon for a large bacon cheese fries absolutely free!" With those words, he plucked the coupon from the pad he was carrying and handed it to him.
"Great! Thanks." He accepted the coupon with genuine delight. This place really wasn't like Vegas, it was better. Plastic chips, he'd never cared for that, even in poker he preferred to play for real money even if it was only dimes, but a coupon with a photo of a beautiful bowl of fries topped with a generous layer of cheese... yeah, that was something for him.
In his rush of excitement, he forgot the small detail, but quickly remembered and turned back to Alf. Then he reached into his pocket from where he extracted some coins, the same amount that Alpha had invested in him - a real man pays his debts - and pressed it into the surprised fellow's hand.
"Thanks for the loan. Oh, and I got some advice for you, buddy... get a job. There's nothing sadder than the sight of an adult Alpha spending the day in a children's playroom," he advised him investedly, and then he was off back to their table, leaving the poor attendant in the company of an angry, snarling Alpha. And his shout of "Who wants free fries!" successfully drowned out the minor argument that had broken out behind his back.
°°0°°
"... and next we'll see Olexei Levovich Lukashenko on the ice. This young Alpha from Saint Petersburg..."
"Are you really enjoying watching this, boss?" Pyotr asked.
He looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
They were sitting together in the back room of the Doll, and Pyotr was just enjoying the Beef Stroganoff he had ordered after he had told Castiel about the police's progress in the part of their territory affected by the unfortunate appearance of Carmine. The raids had been a little less than one might expect, as they had contacted a few good friends in high places and handed out a few dozen bribes to hold the police back a bit. Still, the cells were filled with their dealers and hookers and they lost enough merchandise that it would take two months to stock up. Fortunately, they managed to close the gambling houses early, so this way some of their stores weren't too badly affected by the rampage of the police bitches. They may not have made a profit, but at least they didn't lose their equipment and their regular clientele didn't end up in jail.
He raised his glass.
"Handsome boys in tight shirts. How could I not like that?"
There was a tense and awkward silence from his Lieutenant, one that continued to echo after three years of knowing Pyotr. He had really liked the hulking Beta from the first moment, he even had a pleasant marine scent, and so he had put him to the test just a few hours after their meeting when he had asked him to find a gay bar for him and drive him there. Pyotr failed miserably in his choice, because the place he took Castiel to was absolutely horrible. Crowded, full of electronic music and young... though actually older than his Dean... in provocative clothing. A club he wouldn't have gone to otherwise even if they were paying him, but he made an exception for that night and even picked up a heavily made up and by then already high Beta wheelie for a few E tablets, just to see what Pyotr would do.
He politely looked away as Castiel stuffed the giggling boy into the backseat of the Mercedes, and then said nothing when he instructed the hulking Beta to take his nocturnal company wherever he wished in the morning. He didn't even mutter anything under his beard. And that was partly why he then entrusted him with the seat at his right hand. He appreciated that he could appreciate real values like loyalty to the Brotherhood and the ability to lead and overlook what was entirely personal and not related to business. Or even whether someone was a proper Alpha or a man.
Still, Beta remained a little uncomfortable when directly exposed to Castiel's proclivities.
"Just kidding. I'm betting on making it to the national finals." He sipped from his beer before adding: "Handsome lithe boys in colorful leotards are just a free bonus."
After the initial palpable relief on Pyotr's part, there was another tense silence, which Castiel commented on with a glance towards Beta - his eyes fixed on his food - and a wry smile, with which he picked up his cigarettes from the table.
He lit up, inhaling the pleasantly warm smoke and letting it out slowly through his nose as he pulled his cell phone to him and looked at the screen. He couldn't miss the sound of an incoming message because he didn't have the TV turned up that loud, but he still checked his phone every ten minutes. The silence on Dean's end was nerve-wracking, even though he knew where his Omega was and that he was safe because his men still had him under surveillance. He just wasn't used to losing contact with him for so long without it being his own decision. His Alpha growled and whimpered softly, demanding his Omega with such force that he had opened a conversation and almost texted Dean twice in the last three hours or so. This despite his resolution not to.
The need to control Omega's every move or to be constantly at his heels was somewhat unknown to him. He knew and controlled his instincts and his Alpha urges and knew when and how to give them proper vent. Long night car journeys through the streets of their territory to check on the territory he considered his own. Meticulous monitoring of everything that belonged to him and ruthless punishment of anyone who touched it, even if it was just a chummy man feeling up his car. Marking his den, applying his scent to every piece of furniture in his apartment (not to mention less civilized methods of marking during the rut). That pleasant feeling of satisfaction that always made his Alpha boil with a mighty force when he looked at his men sitting at the same table with him and realized that they belonged to him, that they were there for him, waiting for his command. That they were his brothers and his pack.
He knew all that, but the possessive urges he had towards Dean he had never experienced. Nor the strong desire to protect him and literally tear apart with his own hands and teeth anyone who might harm Omega. It was also the reason he couldn't sleep after last night. He was too distraught not only because he hadn't fucked in four weeks and when he finally had the chance, it slipped through his fingers again. It was also about how easily Dean was vulnerable.
At the same time, he was genuinely proud of his behaviour in the bar. He was exactly the kind of Mate he wanted by his side; bold and fiery, who could take care of himself and their pups.
He didn't want to stifle Dean's personality and he was honestly afraid he might.
His experience with Omegas was simply small and consisted mainly of contact with their girls. Most of it had been gleaned from the nearly two years he'd worked the night shift at the porn rental shop that also served as a base for the Bratva guys who kept an eye on the street girls in the surrounding area. He'd seen two types of Omegas there, the ones that were complete wrecks, willing to do anything for a kind word from who they considered their Alpha, and they didn't even have to actually be an Alpha. And then those that still had their personality, but their instincts and inner Omega could shut them down in certain situations and turn them into willing puppets.
That wasn't even talking about the Omegas that were sold as full-fledged sex slaves after they had completed their training. Perfectly submissive, waiting for every command from their Alpha or the master who represented their Alpha, and willing to starve to death just because they weren't allowed to eat.
Omegas were simply prone to manipulation, submissiveness, and giving up their own personality for the benefit of others. And Castiel didn't want that to happen to Dean.
So he gave him as much freedom as he could wish for. He left him free to fend for himself, even when all his instincts screamed for him to take care of him. He let him be himself and tried his best not to do anything that might back Omega into a corner and force him to submit against his will.
It was a battle with himself, with his instincts, with his Alpha. And it was painfully frustrating, but necessary. He didn't want to end up like his father. Or most of his brothers. He couldn't. He was and wanted to be different.
"I'm sure he'll be in touch soon," Pyotr interrupted the stream of thoughts that had begun to spiral into their usual spiral in his mind.
He turned his head sharply towards him, meeting the man's warm, light brown eyes with a friendly smile that expressed support for the person himself.
He pursed his lips and put the phone back on the table.
"Our guys are keeping an eye on him. Nothing can happen to him, Alpha. He's safe," Beta assured him, even using his secondary designation to play on his instinctual string.
"I know he's safe," he replied, taking a drag and slowly releasing the smoke. "He's with his friends."
There was a double knock.
Pyotr rose, a little slowly and heavily as Castiel noticed, rubbing his hip as he walked to the door. Noticing his slightly frowning look, he simply smiled.
"My hip hurts, boss. Winter's really here," he commented on his slight limp before opening the door and looking through the crack.
It was one of them, for Pyotr simply stepped back from the door and let the newcomer enter, and went back to his seat himself. He saw him off with a look. The hulking Beta had one more cross on his back than Castiel and could be said to be one of the veterans. Few of them had lived to such an advanced age, and if they had, it was only because they had managed to get into a nice, comfortable prison, which, while also dangerous, had far fewer enemies than freedom. Celebrating 50 years of freedom? A dream come true.
Reflections on Pyotr were forgotten the moment he noticed the new arrival, Jacob.
It hadn't caused him any real concern, since Jacob's shift at Dean's had ended about an hour ago and Yuri with Boris had duly checked in, but it was still odd that Beta would head here instead of taking a well-deserved rest somewhere in a bar or by the side of a beautiful woman.
"Good evening, batyushka. Pyotr Nikitovich..." he greeted politely, a composed expression on his face, and stood at a safe distance of one meter. "I'm afraid you'll want to see this," he said without further introduction, handing Castiel his cell phone.
He stubbed out his cigarette and took the phone from Beto.
On the screen was Dean's. Judging by the glare, the photo had been taken through a glass window. There didn't seem to be anything special about it. It looked like the dozen photos he'd received from Jacob and Vadim today, showing Dean in front of the school, then in the company of his brother, two girls, and an Asian boy. And finally at the entrance to a gambling hall full of old arcade machines.
In this particular photo, Omega was standing in front of a slot machine covered in colorful wallpaper of racing cars, holding a phone in his hand and his head tilted toward it. He looked gorgeous, as he always did, and he had one of those sweet smiles on his face that Castiel could never get enough of. Looking at the photo like that, he had to smile himself, and with a warm feeling in his chest, he moved his thumb to the next photo.
The picture was of one of the girls he was leaving school with, this time with Dean. A brunette with olive skin wearing black jeans and a blue tank top with a floral pattern. She and Dean were smiling at each other, and he was leaning in too close for Castiel's taste.
The smile faded from his face in a harbinger of something unpleasant as he moved on to the next photo.
The brunette was holding Dean's hand. Next. She pressed against him and he craned his neck in challenge. She had her nose buried in Dean's neck, as if perhaps she had a right to. As if every drop of Dean's scent didn't belong to Castiel. As if Omega didn't belong to him. He moved on to the next frame. The blood began to boil in his veins. Dean buried his nose in her hair. How dare he? Wasn't he getting enough from Castiel? He'd given him his trust, given him all the freedom he could ask for. He'd taken care of him. He'd put more money and resources into him than he had into anything or anyone else at any time in the past. All without getting anything in return. Nothing, not even a fucking blow job.
He gripped the phone tighter and clenched his jaw to keep his expression calm.
The alpha inside him growled furiously, directing his anger not only at the brown-haired bitch who had the audacity to touch something that was his, but also at the ungrateful little Omega whore who dared to betray and humiliate him like this. He should never have given him his freedom. Never. He should have bent him over back in the warehouse, stuffed a knot in his ass and bitten into his sweet-smelling throat. Pair him up and take him with you, just like all his instincts told him to. Most importantly, he shouldn't have been so naive as to trust him without Omega having somehow earned his trust. No, in fact, he should never have even sought to have any trust between them. After all, Omegas didn't need to have trust in their Alphas, they were supposed to follow their orders and wishes, spread their legs whenever they were told and give as many puppies as they were capable of. That's what they were for, just like they always said...
...his brothers and his father.
He took a long breath in through his nose and exhaled very slowly through his mouth, his lips just slightly parted so that it wouldn't be obvious that he was trying to calm down. He had already been humiliated enough by the fact that Vadim and Jacob had seen the Omega he claimed as his own in front of everyone, shamelessly, right out in the open, fucking some brown-haired slut. He didn't have to humiliate himself by losing control. The last thing he wanted was for them to see how weak he was when it came to Dean. That some sneaky Omega could strip him of his control. He had a reputation. He had respect. He was the Ice Lark. Not some pathetic knothead who'd just go into a fit of rage.
He gripped his Alpha firmly by the throat, silencing him and pressing so deeply that when he looked up at Jacob, he was sure his expression didn't reflect a shred of the pent-up rage and... pain of betrayal he'd felt only moments ago. He'd locked it all away nicely inside, where it could slowly rot away like all the other emotions and feelings he'd locked away during his lifetime.
"Find out her name and who she is. Then come to me," he ordered.
Of course the first thing he wanted to say was to simply kill her, but he knew she was a classmate of Omega's. And at first glance, she didn't look like someone who could be made to disappear without at least a little prior preparation. Besides, having her killed and her body made to disappear, as was necessary when they were removing someone who might be of real interest to the police, was too easy. Dean wouldn't learn from that. He wouldn't know the true weight of the punishment for betrayal. And words alone were never enough.
"And the... other one?" Jacob surprised him with a cautious question.
He flicked a glance at him.
The other?
He quickly and idly scanned the other photos, noting that Omega was having a very good time in them, as was obvious at first glance. He was smiling, wrapping his arms around the brunette's shoulders, sniffing her hair and neck, and acting with an ease Castil had never seen in him. He looked so happy that he felt something after all. Jealousy, but a different kind. It wasn't that the little whore had put her hands on his Omega, it was that she could make him laugh. He was still just happy in her presence, not a hint of fear or tension anywhere. He could imagine his scent too, sweet, heady, cheerful, with no sour undertones. Why could she have this and Castiel not? That was a question he didn't know the answer to, and he wasn't going to look for it. The brown-haired whore would disappear from his Omega life one way or another, and then it wouldn't matter what the answer was.
The last image of the brunette disappeared and he finally understood who Jacob had in mind.
In the next frame, Dean stood at the vending machine, his head cockily tilted as he showed his neck to some poor Alpha whose subgender he could only tell by the way Omega was treating him. Certainly not by posture or clothing. And his assumption that it was the Alpha was only confirmed by the fact that in the next picture he was standing behind Dean's back, holding his hand high on his back, almost on his neck. Other than that, he was garbage at first glance. He's a fat pig. A loser. No one that anyone would miss.
He was perfect.
"Find. Eliminate. Document," he answered Jacob's question with icy calm and handed him his phone.
"Aye aye, boss."
He took a long drag from his nearly spent cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs to get as much of the pleasantly soothing nicotine as he could, and let it out slowly between words as he smothered the butt in the ashtray.
"You can go."
"Thank you... boss..." He nodded to both him and Pyotr before turning and quickly leaving the room.
A questioning silence could be heard from the hulking Beta, broken only by the voice of the commentator talking about who was currently on the ice and what was going on. The silence stretched on until Pyotr finally gathered the courage to ask:
"Everything all right, boss?"
"Yes. Everything's fine," he replied, ice cold.
Chapter 19
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He returned Lisa's hug and inhaled her scent with a low growl. She snuggled a little closer to him, and besides her scent growing faintly fainter, he could also feel her smiling a little more. He saw how soft and beautiful her smile was the second she pulled away.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean. I have to run now, my mom's waiting for me," he said softly, whereupon she stood on tiptoe and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before she laughed once more, her cheeks flushed, and then ran off.
"Yeah. Tomorrow. Looking forward to it," he called after her, standing still until she disappeared into the gate that fenced off the school grounds.
The smile on his face lingered for a moment, but then slowly slid away, and he felt a strange discomfort around his stomach and in his spine. He'd really enjoyed yesterday afternoon, and then he and Lisa were still talking over chat until almost one in the morning, but... something wasn't right. At any other time he would have been absolutely thrilled that they were finally moving somewhere, but something... something was missing from his Omega and defying his instincts. It was probably just that no matter how well things went with Lisa, how beautiful she smelled and looked, nothing could come of it. Not when he was already firmly, though not willingly, tied to Castiel.
And while he was with Alpha... his near-silence yesterday made him nervous and made his Omega feel strange, abandoned, and a little whiny. It wasn't like the time Alpha had suddenly and completely gone silent, and Dean had been gripped with anxious fear because of it. Castiel hadn't stopped communicating altogether. He only stayed quiet for a few hours, but he finally spoke up before they left the gambling hall.
Thinking of his Alpha, he fished his phone out of his pocket and opened their conversation. The first message after a long silence was from 5:30 pm last night.
Castiel: Enjoying your afternoon with friends, Omega?
Dean: yeah 🙃
Dean: I won🍟
Dean: look
A photo of the half-eaten plate of fries she sent Castiel followed After the photo, there was silence for a full thirty minutes before the one-word reply came:
Castiel: Congratulations.
Was sending a picture of the food so stupid that it made Alpha sick? No, it couldn't have been. He's done it several times. First breakfast, then a meal in the school cafeteria, and finally, about three days ago, he sent a picture of food from the bistro where he worked. Still, he found Alpha's curt reply somehow irritating. And it didn't get any better as the evening progressed.
Shortly after he and Sam had arrived at the motel and were in the process of ordering pizza, another text came from Alpha asking where Dean was. As if he didn't know. After all, it was impossible to miss the old Toyota that was already waiting a short distance from the motel parking lot entrance as they walked up to it from the bus stop. And then, when he'd shown an interest in telling Castiel how he'd enjoyed his afternoon while they ate, Alpha had fried him with the terse information that he was at Blue Sky, working. And finally, this morning, he'd just asked if Dean was heading off to school. That was all.
Maybe Alpha was having some problems in his criminal trade. Somehow, Dean was vaguely aware that the newspapers had reported on police raids into drug dens and investigations into the origins of Crimson, which had turned up in the city.
Could it have been Castiel's business? His drugs seized in the police investigation? Yeah, I suppose that's possible. If he remembered correctly, there was talk of kilos of drugs. Was that a lot for Alpha or not? And if he asked him about it, would he answer? He'd promised to be honest about general things about his criminal activities, but this seemed pretty specific.
A familiar whiff of sandalwood and olive oil disturbed him.
He looked up from his phone to Sam.
"Ready to go?" He asked, glancing over Sammy's shoulder to his friends who were already heading for the gate.
"Sure."
"Cool." He shoved his cell phone in his pocket and together they headed for the bus. "What about school?" He asked the usual question along the way.
Sam gave him a look from under the raised eyebrows he'd been throwing at him lately every time he asked about school, but then he began to honestly list what grades he'd gotten today and what new things were being discussed in his classes. He listened to him, of course he did, because he was interested in how his little brother was doing in school. But part of his mind was elsewhere.
They turned the corner and the very first thing that caught his eye was Alpha's Mercedes, which literally stood out among the other parked cars because of how big and polished it was and also because of its tinted windows. But the unusualness of Alpha's car on this particular street was certainly not why Dean's heart leapt and why his Omega purred contentedly with excitement at the prospect of seeing his Alphaa any moment. Sure, he didn't have to be in the Mercedes directly, but at least he'd sent the car for Dean to bring to his place.
"Go ahead. I... I forgot something and I need to go back and get it," he lied, and as he quickly realized, he did so rather clumsily as he was somewhat distracted by the sight of the other side of the street. A glance that someone as keenly observant as Sam couldn't help but notice.
"Is that him?" He asked, staring in the same direction that Dean's eyes were fixed.
"Maybe," he had to admit.
"Fine. I can finally meet him," the little Alpha decided, managing to take two steps to the edge of the sidewalk before he was stopped.
"Hey, wait... maybe he's not even there," he said quickly; Sam gave him a frowningly questioning look. "Sometimes..." actually, so far , he corrected himself mentally, "he just sends a car for me."
"Sends a car?" repeated Sammy incredulously.
"Yeah... you know... he works as a big boss at some business company and... sometimes he sends some of his employees to pick me up, okay? No big deal..." he was making something up as he went along that was true enough to not be a complete lie. Loosely speaking, Alpha was the 'big boss'. Technically, the Bratva was a company he sold something to. And his guys were employees, because they were certainly getting paid for what they did, and from what he'd learned so far, they even had shifts, so... See? He didn't lie to his brother at all.
"You said he went to university. How old is he anyway?" Little Alpha frowned.
"No, you said it was okay if he went to university," he corrected him, which Sammy definitely didn't appreciate from the expression he was wearing. "And he's already... over thirty."
He didn't actually know exactly how old Castiel was, but his guess was somewhere between thirty-five and forty-five, though more towards the forty mark. So strictly speaking, if he said 'over thirty', it was true under any circumstances. True or not, Sam didn't look or smell very happy. There was a deep furrow between his brows and his upper lip quivered as he tried not to grit his teeth.
"I don't like that. And Dad won't like it either when he finds out."
Of course he'd pulled that card, and it didn't matter that he'd been as irritated with his dad as an angry wasp for the past few months.
"Only someone would have to tell him about it. Some tiny, traitorous rat," he said sharply, a bit of genuine anger and a sense of betrayal in his tone.
The little Alpha measured him with an indecisive look, lips calm again but pressed firmly together.
There were things that were just between them. Like when, at only thirteen, he'd gone to the bar alone to play pool for money so they could buy their Alpha a present. Who had actually set fire to the headmaster's car at the penultimate school they'd been to. Or how far it actually went back then in Lobster Cove. They both knew how to keep secrets from their dad if they agreed it would hurt their Alpha or if they didn't want to face his wrath.
He sighed.
"Look... I'm sure our Alpha wouldn't like me dating someone that old. He'd be disappointed and angry and I think he might do something stupid. You know how he is when he thinks we're in danger..." he let it sink in, making Sammy realize and remember all the times his dad had acted according to his Alpha instincts, but not quite according to societal norms or even laws anymore. And it was obvious that the little Alpha was beginning to understand what he was talking about.
"See? That's why you can't tell him."
Sam gave Mercedes a long, dark look, then turned back to Dean.
"Fine, I won't tell him," he agreed with some reluctance.
"Thanks, little brother," he said, relieved to be out of it, grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him close. Nice and close, his face against his scent gland to leave a mark on him, not minding at all that the little Alpha had rebelled and made a disgruntled sound.
"Not in public," he growled in irritation, actually nudging Dean to push him away from him and began wiping his face with his sleeve with a theatrically cranky expression. As if he could wipe the smell off and not smear it over his chin and temple and let it soak his sleeve still.
"Get on the bus. I'll call you if anything happens. Oh, and don't wait up for me tonight, just in case," he added with a hefty dose of teasing.
Sam rolled his eyes at him at first, whereupon his cheeks colored a little and a cloud of the smell of embarrassment rolled out. To hide it, he made a face and stuck two fingers in his mouth as he demonstrated vomiting even with the appropriate soundtrack.
He laughed and slapped the already departing Sam on the back of the head. Then he waited a moment longer before disappearing around the corner to make sure he didn't pop up anywhere. That was if Castiel happened to be in the Mercedes itself. He still didn't want the two of them to meet, and if it was ever going to happen under duress, it certainly wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
When he was sure the little Alpha was far enough away, he quickly crossed the road and ran to the Mercedes. He stopped at the back door and hesitated a little with his hand on the door handle. First of all, he must have looked terrible, so he quickly checked himself in the mirrored glass and raked his hair to give it the right tousle. And two, he couldn't come in like big water. That's not how his dad raised him.
So he knocked on the window and waited a while.
There was no answer, so he opened it.
Immediately, the familiar, heady, heavy smell of roasting cherries hit him in the face, this time enriched by the intensely bitter smell of almonds, which was still not entirely unpleasant, and maybe it wasn't even anger. But it was strong enough to hold him back for a small moment before he leaned over and peered into the back seat.
The alpha was inside.
He was sitting on the other side facing the road, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, a burning cigarette in his hand, and oddly enough he didn't turn to look at Dean when he opened the door.
"'Hi Alpha," he greeted, and despite noticing Cas's aloof demeanor, his stiff stance, and his scent, he couldn't help but sound excited. It was ridiculous how happy he was to see Alpha, all things considered, but he didn't want to spoil the feeling. At least not for the moment. After yesterday and this morning when they had had almost no contact he just wanted to enjoy the fact that the Alpha had come for him and, he hoped, they would do something together. Well... though hopefully not another drinking session. He wasn't feeling up to shots of bourbon and tequila. More like something quieter, like a beer or two at the Doll or something.
"Get in," Castiel ordered without turning his head.
By now Dean's hackles were rising and he was beginning to suspect trouble, so he didn't resist his instinct to duck his head, and obediently slid into the back seat.
There was silence, during which the Alpha took a long drag from his cigarette and slowly blew out the smoke as he tapped the ash into the ashtray tipped out the door. Dean watched him, trying to read from his face what the hell was going on. His sharp features were even sharper than ever, his lips drawn into a severe line and the lines around his eyes were thin as a hair. Whatever was happening, it wasn't good, and his Omega was slowly catching an anxiety attack, manifesting itself in pitiful whimpers and compulsive thoughts of needing to please the Alpha somehow.
He didn't give in to it, not only because he wasn't some damn needy Omega who was just trying to please, but more importantly he wanted to know what the fuck was wrong first. He couldn't fix it if he didn't know what it was.
"You mocked and humiliated me in front of my men, Omega," Alpha finally broke the silence, saying Dean's secondary designation not with the usual kindness that made his Omega growl, but with a sternness and coldness he'd never heard from him. No, never really. It was perhaps even worse than the time he had so stupidly asked for a car in exchange for permission to fuck his virgin ass.
Just like then, he felt the need to cringe under the tone, but he resisted it, mostly because he didn't know what the fuck Cas was talking about. Sure, he'd been acting cheeky the whole time, and the Alpha men could see it, but he didn't seem to mind. He smiled every time, smelling of sweet happiness and often purring, like a huge, gorgeous cat. So what's the big deal?
"I don't know what you're talking about, Alpha," he said, managing to keep his voice and scent calm even as anger began to smolder a little inside him. Clearly Castiel was here to accuse him of something, but there was nothing to accuse him of. Dean hadn't done anything. He'd been on his best behavior the whole time.
"You really don't know?" Castiel asked sharply, his gravelly Russian accent a little thicker than usual, and finally, finally, he turned to Dean, pinning him in place with a blue lagoon of his eyes that had been transformed into the coldest ice.
It sent a chill down his spine, but he didn't move his gaze. He stared bravely into Alpha's eyes, certain he had done nothing wrong and certainly wasn't about to apologize for some non-existent transgression. He didn't want to humiliate himself that way.
"No, really..." his voice trailed off as something suddenly occurred to him. The only time he'd been rude was when the Alpha wasn't there. He didn't know what the homophobic fucker had said to Castiel after all this time, but first and foremost he was going to set the record straight and then give vent to the anger he felt towards Alpha. He was protecting him and standing up to some idiot who thought badly of all gay people, and rightly so, and he really didn't like the fact that Castiel trusted this... Yuri or whatever his name was rather than Dean. Than his Mate... and that's exactly what he planned to tell him, but first, "Look, Alpha, I'll explain what was going on..."
"I don't need your explanation," Castiel interrupted, tossing the iPad between them on the seat.
Even though he was looking at it from the wrong angle, he recognized his own photo from yesterday afternoon. He couldn't remember exactly when it was, but he stood there by the slot machine covered in cars, staring at his cell phone.
He couldn't say that he liked the idea of being photographed and not knowing it, or that Castiel was getting the pictures, but it didn't really surprise him.
The Alpha was a possessive asshole, there was no other way to put it, and had a whole list of typical Alpha traits that the right Alphas were expected to tame. The compulsive need to keep an eye on and protect what they thought was theirs was definitely one of them. And since Castiel had money, people, and power, he could accommodate his instincts.
So yeah, having his pictures on his iPad sucked, but it didn't upset him in any way. He still didn't understand what this whole scene was about. After all, he'd told Alpha he was going out with his friends, and when he left school he'd even told him they were going to a gambling hall with old slot machines. He couldn't have been surprised that Dean had been photographed there by his men.
Wanting to get to the bottom of Alpha's anger, he picked up his iPad and slowly started flipping through the photos that were there. He scrolled through several of them of him and Lisa, not understanding what was going on at first before it slowly, slowly started to dawn on him. He let Lisa sniff him, put his arm around her shoulders, they held hands the whole time they were in the playroom, and then when they ate they sat next to each other. Very close, because he still remembered how sorry he was that her faint Beta scent was getting lost under the smell of fries and tortillas. But... that didn't mean anything.
Yeah, Lisa was hot, and she was nice, too, and the first time he'd seen her he'd been picturing taking her to a motel and, if nothing else, at least touching her breasts and making out a little. But that seemed so long ago, and since then, most of his thoughts - except for food, porn, music, Sammy, and old movies - had been filled with nothing but Alpha Castiel.
"That's not what it looks like," he blurted out, immediately wanting to slap himself for it. God it was the most corny movie phrase, and only a complete idiot would use it in the situation he was in; sitting next to a murderous Alpha who was clearly angry with him.
A dark growl, the first real display of anger on the Alpha's part, made him stiffen and pull away a little. He didn't give in to the need to bow his head and show his neck, though, because he had to and needed to explain to Castiel how it was. He needed to tell him that he had no interest in Lisa. Not anymore.
"She's a friend," he tried to clarify, but as he heard himself, it all sounded worse and worse. "Or rather, just a classmate. She's... um... her name is..."
"Lisa Braeden," Castiel interrupted again, and his voice wasn't actually full of growls as one might expect. He was perfectly calm again. And he didn't bat an eyelash as he stubbed out his cigarette and slowly turned to Dean, fixing him with a dangerously calm gaze. "Beta. He's in the same year group as you, but different classes. He has two siblings, an older Beta sister Suzan, who's at Columbia, and a six-month-old Beta brother, William. Her Beta father is also named William and is a computer technician at a moderately successful IT company. And her Beta mother, Kennedy, is a trained nurse who preferred a more lucrative job in a beauty salon licensed for minor surgical aesthetic procedures to a general hospital. She was on maternity leave for six whole months because her only son was born prematurely. Lisa," he pronounced her name gruffly, as if he were talking about something disgusting, "is a brilliant student with an A- average, an occasional contributor to the school newspaper, captain of the swim team, an animal lover, and, judging by the number of active Facebook friends, a very popular and well-liked girl by all. Just typical... American... beauty," he leaned closer and closer to Dean with each word, the blue glow of his eyes growing more intense. "I'm sure the whole school would sincerely mourn if anything happened to her."
He knew more about Lisa in less than twelve hours than Dean had known in all the weeks they'd known each other. For instance, he had no idea she had an older sister. But that wasn't important right now. All that mattered was that the Alpha was focused on Lisa. Alpha obviously hated her. But... he couldn't hurt her. That wasn't possible. He couldn't go around killing people for fun either... except he'd already done it.
"You can't do anything to her," came out almost against his will.
"Really?" Alpha stretched and raised an eyebrow. Then he squinted his eyes and tilted his head in question, but not in that cute way. There was something dangerous about this. "Tell me... moy sladkiy Omega... why can't I? Who's going to stop me? You?"
He was fucking right. Who could stop him? Dean... not Dean himself. And for a lot of reasons. He was torn between his natural need to protect Lisa because, even though they'd only known each other a short time, his stupid Omega instincts were just that. They stuck to people, even when he didn't want to, and unless he actively resisted... and he realized now that he hadn't done that in Lisa's case... he was a fucking clingy Omega. And the need, the inner longing that drew him to Alpha Castiel and wouldn't let him resist Alpha just for Lisa, who just... as much as he hated to say it... wasn't really important. He wouldn't risk his life for her.
And then there was the other reason; Sammy... his little brother, his puppy, the most important thing he had in the world. If he stood up to Alpha, then it would be Sam who would be the first to get hit. After Dean himself, of course, but somehow he doubted the Alpha would kill him. He wanted him too much for that. He considered him his Omega. His property.
No, Dean couldn't stop him from doing something to Lisa. He could only beg for her, and he'd almost started to when it suddenly dawned on him. The Alpha knew Dean couldn't stop him, yet here they were now, sitting together, the Alpha grilling him while Beta was alive and well. Sure, he wasn't stupid, and he realized that this was punishment for what Castiel considered a betrayal. But the punishment could have been much greater, much more spectacular, if Lisa were already dead, only she wasn't. The Alpha hadn't killed her or had her killed or otherwise harmed because... he couldn't.
"She could be dead already, but she's not, because you can't just kill her!" He declared firmly, fear masquerading as defiance and anger. "She's not like those guys in the store. She's not even like me and Sam; two dadless kids living in a cheap motel. She's popular, she has family, she has friends. You said it yourself... if something happens to her, everyone will care. The police will investigate, and eventually they'll figure it all out. They'll get to me, then to you, then to the whole Bratva. It's too dangerous for you to kill her."
Defiantly, focused only on his anger, he stared into Alpha's eyes, trying not to think about the creeping fear that wrapped his insides and not to listen to his instincts, which almost violently pushed his head down in a gesture of humility.
"Do you really think so?" Alpha asked in a dangerously calm voice; Dean didn't move his gaze, only slowly inhaling the bitter smell that surrounded him. He didn't flinch even when Castiel moved to grab his chin and hold his face. The blue eyes remained impassively cold, but a spark of curiosity appeared in them, and the way Castiel squinted his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side was more exploratory than anything else. "Da... You really think so," he finally said, sounding almost surprised. "You obviously haven't figured out who I am or what my powers are." He leaned in close enough that Dean could smell his breath, fresh with the smell of cigarettes. "There's nothing to stop me. I can break every single finger she has for daring to touch you, then put a bullet in her head and make her body disappear. Nobody, ever, will find out she's dead. She'll just be another stupid teenager who decided to seek her own happiness. Do you understand that?" He asked significantly, his deep, whiskey-like voice making Dean shudder and swallow dryly.
He understood. Everything in him screamed that yes, it was absolutely true. If for a moment he thought there was something that would stop Alpha after all, he was now forever misled. There was nothing and no one who could defy Castiel. Especially not an ordinary sixteen year old Omega boy.
"I understand, Alpha," he breathed, resisting the urge to lower his gaze.
He counted five heartbeats. Five heartbeats, during which time the fear slowly building in his stomach turned into a desperate rage he knew he couldn't show. All he could do was clench his empty hands, dig his nails into his palms, and hope that all that anger wasn't too strong in his scent.
Then Castiel finally let him go.
"I see you're slowly starting to understand," he said, and Dean, eyes fixed on the ground, saw his shadow recede as he pulled away. "I hope that when I'm done with her, you'll also be properly instructed that your choices and your mistakes have consequences."
He looked up sharply to him.
When he was done with her? No! No! Shit, no! This was supposed to be the end of it. The Alpha made it clear he was capable of anything and showed his dominance, and Dean duly submitted. That should have been enough. Maybe... maybe the point was for Alpha to plead for her. If so, he was able to do that.
"Please, Alpha. You don't have to hurt her. Nothing happened and I never have to see her again if that's what you want. I'll tell her..." he hesitated a little as he wasn't sure if he should say how he could keep Lisa from wanting to see her again. In the end, he decided that going with the truth would be best. "I'll tell her that I only wanted to talk to her to get her to give it to me, and since she's acting like an old nun, I'm not interested anymore. Trust me, it'll work out great. I know very well how to make someone hate me."
Castiel didn't move, just watched him intently, nothing in his face betraying what he was thinking. It went on long enough for Dean to think he'd overreacted, but then the Alpha exhaled slowly, his stiff shoulders relaxing. And for the first time, under the scent of almonds, which was pervasive and heavy, the cherry began to rise again.
"Even if I were willing to forgive, I have no choice, Dean," he finally spoke in a tone that wasn't so icy. "You gave me no choice with your behavior. If I condone your adventures, it will look like I'm not even in control of my own Omega. How could such an Alpha rule New York?" He raised an eyebrow at the question Dean didn't have an answer for. All he could do was clench his fists tighter and try to use his gaze to express all the anger he was currently feeling towards the Alpha.
"You can't just..."
"I'm sorry, Dean," he said in a way that almost seemed regretful, then lifted his hand to place it on Dean's cheek. "I have to. And you should remember that everything that happens to Lisa is your fault. Maybe next time you'll think twice about cheating on me," he finished firmly, letting his hand drop.
He wasn't sure Castiel had managed to kill the last bit of his hope that this wasn't happening and that it was just an idle threat. He definitely felt guilty. And anger at himself, but also at the sheer absurdity of this whole situation. He hadn't fucked Lisa, hadn't even kissed her. He'd only allowed her to smell him and hug her. That's all. She didn't fucking deserve to die for this. It wasn't meant to be.
Suddenly, something inside him broke.
He realized what he was doing the moment his fist came close to Alpha's face. But he couldn't stop it. It landed on his square jaw, right where the thin scar stretched. He put as much force into the blow as the small space to swing allowed, and the dull pain in his knuckles told him clearly that it was a good one. For a tiny moment he was deeply pleased with himself, for he felt satisfaction for all the fear the Alpha had made him feel for weeks.
Then the reality of the whole situation caught up with him.
He punched the Alpha. He did it, and even though he rationally knew he deserved it, the first thing he felt... even before the fear and shock... was the desperate howl of his Omega. It was like someone was scratching it alive. He couldn't even describe it, but it was strangely numbing.
He just watched, motionless, as Castiel's head turned to the side. That, nothing more. As if even all Dean's strength couldn't do more damage than tickle him a little on the jaw. For the next few heartbeats, the Alpha remained still, perhaps not believing the blow had landed and unable to comprehend what had happened.
Then, finally, he moved.
Slowly he rolled his head back, just as slowly he raised his hand and then plunged his long, tattooed fingers into his own mouth. He felt somewhere on the inside of his lower lip, and then when he put his hand down, there was a trail of saliva and blood on the tips. He watched the red wetness on his fingers almost intrigued, even brushing the redness between his thumb and forefinger with a sort of fascination with the texture of his own saliva and blood. Then he slowly turned his gaze to Dean.
Only at that moment did he fully realize the consequence of his indiscretion. He was dead. He was still breathing, for the moment, but he was really just a reanimated corpse. And so was Sammy. His only slim chance was to get out of the car as quickly as possible and then pray that the bus hadn't left yet, because if it did... Alpha's men would be waiting for Sam at the motel, and even if Dean managed to get out of the car, there was no hope of getting to the motel in time.
He had to get out now.
He lunged for the door. He heard the creak of leather seats and the rustle of fabric behind him. More likely he could feel with his sixth sense that Alpha was reaching for them. He could handle it. He already had a grip on the handle and managed to push it, so the door eased open and the crisp air from outside enveloped his face. Two strong hands grabbed his hips and suddenly he was being dragged across the seat. The door handle slipped from his fingers. He felt the warm weight of Alpha's body on his back. He stifled the whimper of his Omega, who urged him not to do it, and, as trained, tried to hit Castiel in the face with the top of his head. Only he was prepared for it.
Dean felt the now-familiar pressure of a large palm on the back of his neck, and it wasn't gentle, just admonishing. No, this time the Alpha rammed his head mercilessly into the seat. He inhaled the smell of leather and cigarettes. And just listened helplessly as the door slammed shut and his only escape route was closed. Now he just waited for Castiel to squeeze a little harder and crush his neck with his Alpha strength, because... how could he do anything else? A few more touches meant Lisa would die. Where on the leaderboard was it that he'd punched Castiel?
Suddenly, he found himself on his back.
He could see the ceiling above him.
And hands disappeared from his hips.
He knew the Alpha was still partially above him. He was aware of his presence, the warmth of his body, and he could see him with his peripheral vision, but for the moment he was almost free. He still had a chance, so he shit on his stupid Omega's whimpers and just kicked. And he definitely hit, if the heckle and subsequent angry growl was a good indicator.
He took advantage of this and tried to get back to the door with a slip.
This time the Alpha grabbed his ankle, pulling downward and also to the side so his legs were spread apart. He tried to grab the smooth skin, but his blunt nails slid over it. He shot his elbow out toward Castiel's face. The grip around his arm that the Alpha used to hold back the attack was so strong that he felt his bones rub against each other and it fucking hurt.
He gritted his teeth to keep from yelping or spitting out some curse word and lashed out with the palm of his free hand against Castiel's nose. This time it was his wrist that found itself in the steely grip of tattooed fingers. Dean's hands were pressed against the seat, and the Alpha was leaning over him.
There wasn't much he could do at the moment. He couldn't kick anymore, he couldn't defend himself with his hands, only his teeth remained. The small Omega fangs looked harmless at first glance, but they were sharp enough to bite through skin like nothing. That's what they were for. At least, they had before. To pierce the mating gland on the neck of the chosen Alpha. It wasn't done much these days, but that didn't mean his fangs couldn't hurt.
He snarled furiously and snapped his teeth at the Alpha's face.
Surprisingly, the Alpha dodged literally at the last moment, his entire face turning into a mask of genuine surprise. Yeah! That's it, you bastard! You didn't expect that!" he boasted in his mind, and in a fit of rage stemming from fear, he cheerfully ignored the bundle of misery that was his inner Omega, who was crying in despair at being treated like this by his Mate. To his Alpha.
He growled again pulling the sound out of the depths of his chest and fear, and with that he became all too aware of his own scent, all pungent and pungent pine and anger. Mixed into it were almonds and the sickening bitterness that oozed from Alpha's body.
He tensed for another attempt to grasp his teeth as Castiel finally bared his own fangs in all their size. For the first time in the time he had known him. The gleaming golden fangs were a perfect imitation of them. Together, they formed a terrifying, biting trap, as all Alpha jaws were, and the red color that replaced the blue glow quite clearly was a warning to Dean not to push his luck any further.
He didn't care. He felt he had nothing more to lose.
He opened his mouth.
The alpha was a little faster. It snapped its own jaws just inches from his face. So close that whether he wanted to or not, he could only avoid the sharp fangs by tilting his head to the side. Partly by doing so, he showed his neck, though he didn't want to. At least he didn't avert his gaze. He resisted the red eyes, suspecting that his must be amber-gold.
"Enough!" Castiel growled in a damp voice very close to his face. "It's over. I've got you."
The words had a weight and power that pushed his entire personality down. To the ground. To humiliation and submission, and even as he fought, it was getting harder and harder. He couldn't give up. He couldn't...
A deep Alpha growl definitively permeated his entire body and Dean obeyed. It was over. The Alpha had him. He couldn't fight anymore, and all that was left was to let his head fall to the side, exposing his vulnerable neck and mating gland. Surrender to the Alpha who had just conquered him and let him know that he was now his Omega. He did so with a whimper, low and shrill, the likes of which he had never made in his life, and he didn't know he could even make such sounds. And that brought with it the sensation of his entire body relaxing and his Omega spreading out, belly up and neck exposed to everything the Alpha could possibly want.
And in a terrifying sort of way, it was a relief.
To not have to fight, to think, to care. Just relaxed, waiting for Alpha's command, his wish, his will. How fucking peaceful.
Time must have dragged on. Maybe even minutes. He didn't know. He was aware, though, that Alpha had stopped growling and had begun to slowly lean towards him. Despite the numbness and calm he felt, he tensed a little in anticipation. Something warm and dry touched his neck. His nose. The alpha ran his nose up and down his throat, emitting a loud, deep and somewhat rough growl. Alpha... Alpha was accepting his submission. Alpha was accepting his very being and God... fuck... it was such a relief.
With a deep exhale, he slowly turned his head towards him so that their noses brushed against each other. And their faces. And Castiel grunted in satisfaction as he reached up and rubbed his neck against Dean's temple, his forehead, and then his hair. As he branded it so the whole world would know it was his.
Slowly, he breathed in the sweet scent of cherry pie and apple blossoms that had begun to fill the car in that all-too-familiar combination that made him so particularly numb. He closed his eyes and surrendered to it when suddenly Castiel pulled away.
He opened his eyes in surprise and looked up into his face.
What was wrong? Why had he stopped... oh shit. Suddenly he felt it. There was the distinct smell of an aroused Omega mixed in with their shared scent, and when he moved his hips experimentally, he felt not only the wetness between his cheeks seeping into his briefs, but also the unpleasant friction of the fabric against his almost completely hard cock. When had this happened? How? He hadn't realized it at all. The adrenaline of the fight must have caused it, because it certainly couldn't have been the fact that Alpha had managed to subdue him. It just couldn't. He didn't want it to be that, and the thought that it was made him panic. Panic that was mixed with fear of the inevitable.
The alpha craned his neck in a typical sniffing gesture, his eyes briefly blurring along with the way his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. The faraway look lasted only a moment before Castiel identified the subtle component in the shared scent and then fixed his bright blue eyes on Dean.
"Alpha..." he breathed, not sure if it was an attempt to hold him back or more likely to encourage him.
Anything else he wanted to say was smothered in a hard kiss and erased from his mind for good by the tongue that slipped into his mouth. He groaned involuntarily and clenched his hands into fists in a futile attempt to break free from the iron grip of the slender fingers.
The grip suddenly loosened and Dean let instinct and need guide him as he wrapped his arms around Castiel's back. The small growl right into his mouth was a sort of acknowledgement, along with the way the Alpha hooked his now thankfully small fangs again against his lips and then slid down his chin.
The hot kisses he showered his neck with were quick and hard and a little uncoordinated, and the way he tugged at Dean's jacket was unlike any gentle invitation to undress he'd ever experienced. Still, or rather, that was why he did everything he could to get rid of the annoying piece of clothing that only got in the way and made him unbearably hot. Or maybe not. Maybe it was Castiel's body, which, though slender, was still large enough to cover all of him. And then there were his hot hands, which slipped under Dean's shirt without missing a beat and rolled it all the way up to his chin.
He gasped sharply as the Alpha pressed his wet lips to his chest and slid them over his skin, leaving a hot trail of saliva behind him, as well as the irritation from his stubble. The sensation was so strange. It was... almost weird, especially when Castiel actually made it all the way to his nipple. He stopped there and pulled away, only to run his palm over the soft mound of Dean's boobs with a little questioning grunt.
They weren't real boobs. They were small and stiff enough to look like worked out chest muscles and fit the rest of his muscular physique, but there was something there. A kind of characteristic softness, and his nipples were definitely bigger than any Beta's or Alpha's.
He didn't like wearing this strange imitation of boobs and was grateful that no one ever paid attention to them, but Alpha was obviously going to change that. He cupped their almost invisible weight in his palm and then leaned down to clamp his lips around the nipple.
God!
It was like electricity coursing through his body, heading straight for his cock and that desperately empty spot low in his belly that he couldn't fill no matter how many fingers he shoved up his ass.
"'Fuck...'" he muttered.
He definitely felt Castiel smile, then pull away from his hard nipple and mark his way to Dean's belt with a few quick kisses. At that moment, he raised himself up a little on his elbow, and watched, perhaps in surprise, as the Alpha quickly unzipped his pants, revealing his grey underwear without a single hesitation.
Actually, yes, somewhere in the back of his mind it flashed that this wasn't something Castiel should have seen first, but ultimately he didn't care. And he completely smoked such thoughts out of his head when Castiel grabbed the edge of his pants and the elastic of his briefs and pulled. The fabric slid off his hips and beyond, almost to his knees under the force, and his cock finally gained its freedom.
At first it was a relief not to be squeezed in his jeans, and at second it was confusing. In fact, for one crazy moment, he wasn't even able to sort out in his head what had happened when the cool air of the air conditioner, which was uncomfortably freezing his cock, was replaced by hot moisture. He had to raise himself up on his elbows even more to make sure... oh god... fuck. Alpha literally swallowed his entire cock. He swallowed it like it was nothing. From the tip to the thick base of it, and his nose was buried in the hair of Dean's belly, as if doing something like that was no big deal. And that look... the alpha was sucking his cock like some damn professional. His tongue slid deftly along the entire length of Dean's cock, lips pursed just the right amount, and the suction itself was... it was almost all almost perfect, but it was missing something. He needed... needed to fill his empty hole in a way he'd perhaps only craved during play.
"Alpha...!" He groaned in plea, spreading his legs as far as his awkwardly pulled down pants would allow. And he hoped Castiel would understand what he was asking for, because he just couldn't imagine begging him to stick his long fingers up his ass.
The alpha understood.
That first touch was light, just a slip of thick finger bellies, as if he were just testing the water. And then, without any warning, the thick, blunt length broke through the loose ring of his muscles and went as deep as he could never have managed on his own. A scream crossed his lips, and for a moment his eyes flashed before him.
Shit...
Shit.
He blinked.
He looked up at the ceiling where a small light shone, and was vaguely aware that he'd just come and almost didn't know how. He felt utterly boneless, and even though he was aware of Alpha's fingers in his ass... slowly sliding in and out... and his hot mouth on his cock, sucking out the last drops... he wasn't sure he could move. And if he could tell when his grooming would be uncomfortable. All he could do was lie there, inhaling the heady, almost mind-numbing scent of their entwined scents spiced with both Omega and Alpha arousal... and somewhere in the back of his mind, feeling damn embarrassed that he'd let go so quickly.
He made a surprised sound as Castiel grabbed his pants and yanked them down to his ankles with a jerk. He barely had time to get his bearings and they were completely gone. It was then that reality began to catch up with his numbed brain, but it wasn't until the clink of the belt buckle being undone that he came fully awake.
Raising himself up on his elbows, he looked down at the Alpha towering over him as much as the limited space of the car allowed.
He was still fully dressed, not even a rolled up shirt or a crumpled jacket. The only piece of clothing he had just pulled off was his pants, and he did it just enough to expose his cock. It was hard, reddened, uncircumcised, and the rigid mound of a knot forming at the very base was already visible. And it was fucking huge. Maybe not as big as some Alpha porn actors had, but certainly big enough to put Castiel to shame for anyone whose cock Dean had ever seen. Or even imagined in the back of his mind.
That's when all the dirty talk of Omegas getting fucked by massive Alpha cocks and stretched so well with huge knots that they couldn't walk straight for days flashed through his head. It made him painfully aware of the burning in his ass from the Alpha sticking his finger in it. If this was how two or three of his fingers felt, he couldn't imagine taking the monster he had in his pants. To hell with claiming it was possible.
He tried to pull out a little, to put some space between them, and then he was going to settle on something less painful for him than having the Alpha shove this massive thing up his ass. Only Castiel grabbed his hips and pulled him back without mercy.
He instinctively lifted his hand to brace his palm against his chest.
"... slow down, okay? Just... slow down, Alpha... slow down a little..." he tried to at least slow him down, his voice hoarse and skipping, and managed to raise himself up on his elbow to try to pull away again.
"Lie down."
The command itself, spoken with a dominant growl somewhere in the background of every word, froze him personally. The strong hand that squeezed him back into the seat reminded him where he was and with whom. And what his place was in all of this. If he still felt any excitement or desire to let Alpha fill that empty, writhing place low in his back, it was all gone for good now. All that was left was the heavy cold feeling in his stomach and the weight of the whole situation falling on the hand he was still using to stop Alpha. As he had just realized not only hopelessly, because what chance did he have against his Alpha's strength, but stupidly. This was what they had been heading towards all along. This was the goal of everything the Alpha did. This was what he had signed up for and what he had to do and maybe... just maybe when he fucked him he would be more open to discussion. Maybe it wouldn't hurt Lisa to ask him to do it when he was satisfied that he had finally knotted the Omega he thought was his.
He let his hand drop.
It was all it took for the Alpha to lean down and bury his head in the crook of his neck.
He gave in and let his head roll to the side, exposing his vulnerable throat, and yeah, his mind raced with the fear of what might happen when he gave himself like that. But he tried not to think about it. Not to think about anything that was going on. Not to feel the wet lips and sharp fangs sucking his steaming gland through his shirt. Not even the buttons of Alpha's shirt pressing into his naked chest. The fabric of his expensive trousers brushing against his thighs, or the hard length of his thick cock against his own soft, saliva-still wet dick.
He tried to think of something else. Something that had nothing to do with the man lying on top of him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner. Of his school bag strewn on the floor. The new iPhone that had slipped out of the pocket of his jeans when Alpha had thrown it on the floor. He focused on its dark, shiny screen, remembering the smell of newness that the phone had and suddenly realizing it.
He'd told himself all along that he'd only have to sleep with Castiel because otherwise he and Sammy would end up dead. That that was the only reason. That was the only reason he was willing to do it, but the reality was that he really liked the Alpha. That wouldn't be so bad, what was worse was that he liked what he was giving him and what he knew he could still get if he asked for it. A cell Phone, a computer, a game console, a car... anything for getting fucked. He didn't want to become that Omega, but he did. Here he was, in the back seat of a luxury car, with a rich Alphaa that was about three times his age between his spread legs. That was...
He couldn't do that. He thought he could do it, but he couldn't. It made him sick. Not of Castiel himself, or the fact that they were fucking, but of the reasons he was willing to do it.
He dug his hands between their bodies, pulling his head down between their shoulders to protect his neck and at least try to clench his thighs. It seemed futile, but he actually managed to push Alpha away a little, earning a disgruntled grunt in return.
It was a small victory of sorts that gave him the courage to try to wriggle out from under the heavy, hot body that kept him pinned to the seat
"Calm down, Dean," the Alpha half ordered, taking the wrist of his struggling hand in his strong grip. "Just... uspokoit'sya," he repeated, his voice breathless and hoarse, and then, without much effort, he gripped the wrist of his other hand and pinned them both beside Dean's head. This deprived him of any chance to defend himself. It allowed him to do almost nothing, not even to thrash around properly, because his torso was oddly turned to one side and most of the weight of Alpha's body was now concentrated in his hand, which was resting on Dean's wrist. He could already feel his fingers tingling from lack of blood and his knuckles aching in protest at such treatment.
"Lie still... moy krasivyy prints... it'll be alright," the Alpha spoke in the same tone, seemingly soothing, as if speaking to an animal, and ruffled his hair with something akin to tenderness. "I won't hurt you. I'll be nezhny... gentle. Just relax..." he continued to soothe, but this time a small, excited growl crept in. "I'll fill you up... you'll like it..."
It was clear he had no intention of stopping, and everything in Dean said it was best to give in. It wasn't just his instincts and his inner Omega, but the rational part of his brain. To relax and not fight back meant less pain, but more humiliation. Although, as if that were even possible, given where he was and who was on top of him...
He closed his eyes to stop the tears that burned in them.
"Please... don't do this to me, Cas. Not this... just not this," he breathed softly through a tight throat and dry lips, chuckling inwardly at both himself and how desperate he sounded. And the fact of how futile this latest attempt had been. But he had to do it because... god, he didn't want Castiel to do this to him. Not him. Anyone else. Any nameless knucklehead in a gas station bathroom somewhere, in a smelly motel, or in a dark alley behind a bar, but not his Alpha. Not his Cas and not here and now. That just couldn't happen.
It was just his one shaky breath. It took so little to make the painful pressure on his arm disappear and Alpha's hot body lift off him. He could feel the cold air on his naked skin and hear the creak of the seat, but for now he dared not move. He half expected, still, that Alpha would just decide not to look at his weeping face and throw him onto his stomach any minute.
"Go."
The word cut through the air and Dean finally opened his eyes. His brain kicked into gear pretty quickly. Raising his elbows, he cast a quick glance for Castiel, who was already sitting at the other end of the seat, literally pressed against the door. He was all tensed up, breathing sharply, digging his fingers into the edge of the seat and not looking at Dean. And, as he discovered after one quick look, his cock was stuffed back into his white boxers and pants. Only the zipper and button were still unfastened, so that the firm length was perfectly clear in the ruffled fabric.
"I said get out!" Alpha barked a second time, this time looking at him with red eyes and a wave of stinking rage rolled out of him.
There was nothing more Dean needed to finally start moving. He preferred to keep his head down and quickly pulled his jeans on with trembling hands. It was hard to get them over his shoes and he was aware that his briefs were missing, but that was the last thing he cared about. He didn't even bother zipping up or trying to put his jacket on, just slipped it on along with his bag into which he gathered his dropped iPhone, then blindly opened the door.
He fell out onto the sidewalk rather than stepping out, and when he managed to scramble to his feet, he took a few steps to turn and see the car door slam shut. The Mercedes pulled away from the curb and began to disappear leaving Dean alone on the street.
The cold autumn wind bit into his heated flesh and he felt the moisture freeze on his cheeks. Tears? Was he really crying? He lifted his hand and wiped his face and... yeah, they were tears. Fucking tears that he tried to hold back, but obviously failed miserably.
Wow, Winchester. Look at you. You're such a loser. He was crying and begging like a little Omega girl, laughing at himself, but he still couldn't stop more tears rolling down his cheeks, or stop his knees from shaking so badly that he didn't think they could hold him any longer.
He dropped to the curb, pulled his school bag onto his lap, and tried to breathe slowly.
It was helping. The trembling was subsiding, replaced by a numbness that somehow permeated him all over.He felt a little confused, and his Omega was actually kind of high from all the fighting and giving in at the same time. But still, a strange, itchy thought crept into his mind through that haze.
The jingle of the message made him flinch.
With fingers still stiff, he dug his cell phone out of his bag and looked at the screen, where there was a message from Sam. It asked how Dean was and what he should order for dinner. Normal stuff. He turned his attention to them. He focused on his brother and picked himself up off the ground to follow him.
But the thought... that little all-consuming thought stayed in his head, still leaving him in surprised amazement.
The alpha let him go.
Notes:
uspokoit'sya - calm down
moy krasivyy prints - my beautiful prince
nezhny - gentleI read all the comments honestly, they make me very happy and I thank you so much for them.
Chapter 20
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He tried to breathe through his mouth, wanting to avoid the mixture of smells that the air conditioning hadn't managed to pull out yet, but it was no use. The air was too saturated with Castiel's own musky arousal, which he kept pumping into the air. And the smell of an excited and scared-to-death Omega at the same time. His Omega.
The alpha inside him howled in deep frustration and all he wanted to do was lunge after Dean, grab him, fuck him, knot him and bite him, because that was the only way Castiel's gut instincts told him to put his Mate out of his fear. His inner Alpha simply didn't understand that it was Castiel that Omega feared. Indeed, deeply frightening, so much so that it drove Dean... his strong, fiery, rebellious Omega... to tears and pleading.
He knew he had pushed him hard. He wanted to do it, and he had to, because the sense of betrayal was too strong, the anger too intense, and Dean had to know his place. He couldn't let him fuck whoever and wherever he felt like it. He belonged to Castiel and he had to beat that into his damn hard head even at the cost of sacrifices like the Alpha loser or the brown-haired Beta bitch. And Castiel was sure he would accept it eventually, even if he had to go through a journey of tears and maybe blood. In the end, he would submit. Yes, he loved how strong his Kind was, but everything had its limits.
So no, he didn't regret letting Dean know where he belonged, and that his transgressions would have harsh and painful consequences, but what happened next...
Dean's defiance and struggle turned him on, which was no surprise at all. He was an Alpha and knew full well that he loved to hunt his lovers down, overpower them and fuck them hard into the ground. When he craved it, he knew how to find someone to satisfy that need of his. Most of his Beta lovers were amenable to that. Some even genuinely enjoyed it, though most saw it more as a game they gave in to because they got something out of it. From the free money and drugs to the ass knot they craved. It was more complicated with Alphas, but there were plenty who knew how to enjoy it too, or could fake it properly, though their scent often gave them away too much.
But with Dean... Lord help him, with Dean it was real. He had really overpowered him, really subdued him, and Omega had finally surrendered to him. No, he'd never experienced it, but he knew it was real. His instincts told him so, as did the sounds Dean made and his scent filled with arousal and desire. It was so perfect that he forgot all about the anger he had for him, obeying his inner Alpha and enthusiastically giving his Mate what he wordlessly begged for.
When the first tendrils of fear began to appear in his scent, he made a conscious decision to use his dominance. It seemed easier and more natural than anything else,and for a while it worked. The handsome, lean body beneath him became limp, and the hands that rested on his shoulders grew heavy as Dean relaxed unnaturally, but at least he wasn't tense and struggling. It was enough the first time. He was even sure it wouldn't cause him any more pain, because Omega was as relaxed as any Beta could be after such poor preparation. And who knows, maybe he would end up sincerely asking for Castiel's knot, which he would be more than happy to give him.
But then something seemed to switch in Dean's damn head again, and he started fighting again. He fought honestly and fearfully, and unless Castiel wanted to be left with a half-hard cock again and continue his frustrating abstinence, there was nothing for it but to grab him hard and hold him down. That's when Omega fell apart like a house of cards. His scent was no longer just scared, it was desperate, big tears started rolling from his eyes and pleas from his mouth. He even said Catiel's name. For the first time in the time they had known each other. And that, to his own astonishment, was what stopped him.
He never heard anyone's pleas, crying or despair. Never. If he had been this weak, he would never have gotten to where he was now. He wouldn't have earned his reputation and he couldn't have done the work he did. He liked to look his contracts in the eye if he could, and they always ended up begging for their lives after threats and promises. He enjoyed their begging and crying, but to see Dean beg was...
He punched the wooden paneling of the door in frustration and it cracked under his force.
He was aware of the pain that shot up his arm to his elbow, but it didn't stop him. It only enraged him more. Fucking brown-haired bitch! The treacherous Omega who had him in his grasp! Fucking pleas and tears! A fucking cock that wouldn't come off! He needed something... he needed...
His eyes darted around the car, trying to find something he could hit or break, even though he rationally knew there was nothing. His gaze happened to fall on the grey briefs lying on the ground. Dean's briefs. He didn't think about what he was doing, his head was filled with mostly grunts anyway. He simply bent down to retrieve them, pressed them to his face, and took a deep breath.
They were redolent of Dean's natural scent. That wonderful combination of pine resin so pure it was as if he had just split the trunk and thick, golden sap had begun to flow from it. And the delicate scent of an apple tree avenue in bloom, a sign of peak spring, bringing soothing images of a sunny day and birdsong. All of this spiced up with a really strong aroma of Omega excitement that smelled like cotton candy or lollipops from Matejska.
The furious, frustrated growl of his inner Alpha slowly turned into a contented purr, saliva pooled in his mouth and he felt himself beginning to calm down a little, but of course his hard cock refused to lie down. Frustrated again, he lowered his gaze to it. He felt a bit detached from his crotch, so he could rationally consider what to do about this problem. He had two healthy hands, of course, a nice imitation of a clamped ass at his house or Balthazar's.
The last thing he was in the mood for at the moment was sticking his cock in a silicone hole, and over the past three weeks he had built up as intense a relationship with his right hand as he had when he was a horny thirteen-year-old. That was enough for his taste. So the choice was clear.
He shoved Dean's panties into his jacket pocket, certain he would use them today, and pressed the button on the door panel.
"Golem, we're going back to Blue Sky."
°°0°°
Folding the paper towel twice so he wouldn't get his hands dirty, he reached across the sink and squeezed the cockroach between his fingers, which was enjoying a small piece of French fry there. It crunched, and even though the towel was supposed to be extra absorbent, a bit of the moist innards still made it to his skin. He grinned in disgust, tossed the crumpled paper into the trash can, and turned on the water so he could wash his hands.
"Thanks, pretty boy," Billy thanked, and began to slowly approach from the other end of the kitchen, where he had fled when he saw the cockroach right on the sink. "I swear, that beast was looking right at me and it looked like it was going to start talking any minute."
"You were dreaming. You smoke too much, buddy. You should cut down," he replied, wiping his hands on his pants.
"Yeah... I guess it really is the weed. I got a new batch now and it's so..." he made a vague motion with his hands. "Weird condition, really. Wanna try some?"
He glanced at the empty burger tray and the fryer where the fries were just soaking in hot oil, then looked out of the kitchen at the nearly empty diner, where there were only five patrons drinking coffee and smothering muffins while staring at their phones anyway. Well, one of them, a skinny Omega old man sitting just inside the door, was nodding his head from front to back, mumbling something to himself and shuffling a steaming mug across the table. He didn't smell like a homeless man, but I guess his head wasn't right. But he was calm and quiet, almost peaceful. Enclosed in his own little world.
Dean envied him.
He wished he could shut himself away in some other world too, or just let the last few weeks disappear. Shit, all he had to do was make that damn afternoon in the game room disappear. That's when it all went to shit. Until then... until then, he was fine with his Alpha.
He enjoyed spending time with him, looked forward to his messages, had almost completely stopped being afraid of him, but after yesterday... Whenever he thought about it, he got a lump in his throat. He remembered the feeling of utter helplessness as the Alpha lay on top of him, holding his hands tightly, putting him at his mercy. But not in the disturbingly good way he'd felt moments before. It was a bad way that brought him back to the past, and made him almost glad he hadn't heard from Castiel for the rest of the day and today. Though his Omega was taking it hard, and to be honest with himself, a large part of himself was too.
He was dreading what the Alpha had planned with Lisa. So he unfriended her, stopped following her on Instagram - he'd only set it up really because of Lisa and Becky's insistence - muted all conversations, deleted her number, avoided her in the hallway, didn't go to lunch so he wouldn't have to meet her, in fact skipped most of his classes so he wouldn't have to meet Becky either. And at the same time, he kept an eye on Lisa from afar, at least to keep an eye on her at school, even if it was unlikely that Alpha's men would do anything to her there. He'd follow her home too, if he had a car or a bike... hell, he wouldn't even mind an electric bike or an electric scooter if renting that eco shit wasn't expensive as hell. And if he didn't have to babysit Sammy at the same time and then go to work because money was more necessary than ever if he had to suddenly leave N.Y and run from Castiel's wrath.
Still... despite all this, he missed Alpha. He missed his dry jokes, where he had to stare at his phone screen for several minutes before he realized he was just joking. The way he tilted his head like a big bird. The warmth in his voice that sounded like flowing whiskey that was there every time he said those meaningless compliments in Russian. His smell... God, his wonderful smell, when all he had to do was close his eyes and he'd think he was home and his Omega Mom was baking a cake. He still remembered that time, vaguely, but yeah. He remembered kneeling in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, hypnotizing the cooling cherry pie while his mom cut potatoes or other things to make Sunday lunch. And how she always admonished him not to touch the pie until it cooled or he'd burn himself.
That was the nice place and time he wanted to sink into now, to get away from his problems, from what had happened and from pining for Castiel.
"Right. Let's do it," he agreed to Billy's offer, because a few choudas was probably the closest he'd come to the escape he craved.
Beta showed his somewhat crooked teeth in a cheerful grin and was already shuffling toward the back door.
He followed, and while he was putting the half-full bag of trash in the door so it wouldn't close behind them and they wouldn't have to ignominiously return ahead of him, Beta managed to light a match and break out the joint. He waited for Bill to take his two big gulps, which he lacked for a satisfied smile, and then took the cigarette from him.
Of course, after a few drags, the stupid feelings didn't go away, but they stopped mattering so much. Everything somehow became less important. He could lean back against the dirty, scratched wall and look up at the overcast sky, from which a really cold drop of rain fell now and then. Even the icy air seeping out from under his shirt didn't bother him enough to reach for the jacket hanging just outside the door.
"Is Dean Winchester here?! I have an express delivery for Dean Winchester! Is there someone like that?!" Came a shout from the front.
Dean blinked and frowned in confusion.
Was that for him? Yeah, it probably was. Yes, New York was big, and maybe there was another Dean Winchester around, but it was far more likely that the delivery man was looking for him.
He exchanged a quick glance with Bill, who looked very confused, and started forward.
He saw the messenger at once. He was standing in the middle, holding a package, wearing a bright blue helmet with a logo on it, and an equally ugly blue vest with the same logo of two crossed bike pedals draped over his clothes. He belonged to one of the many delivery companies the city was full of.
Boss Roy, the perpetually scowling, short and fat Beta, had already rolled out from behind the service counter and looked like he was about to fire the delivery man.
"I'm Dean Winchester."
Beta gave him only a fleeting glance before slipping him his cell phone to sign.
"One signature."
He obviously didn't want to pay anything, so Dean decided to take the package, even though he had no idea who the hell it might be from. There were a few people who knew he worked here. Sammy, of course, then his dad, because he'd left a voicemail message informing him, and finally... Alpha Castiel.
"I thought your name was Chester Bennington," came the voice of Roy, who just had to peek over his shoulder.
There was a cheerful giggle from the delivery boy. Roy rewarded him with a scowl.
"Chester Bennington was the lead singer of Linkin Park," the delivery boy replied.
"A fan?" He asked, finally managing to complete his signature with his finger.
"Right!" Beta chuckled and raised his hand to the badge.
Like anyone else was high-fiving at this point, but... Dean didn't really care. He was somehow feeling pleasantly light at the moment, and he intended to keep this feeling as long as possible. And so he high-fived the messenger.
"And may he rest in peace..." added Beta a little out of place before reaching into the bag he had with him and pulling out a box with the delivery company's logo on it. The kind that could be bought directly from the branch. "This is for you. Bye."
"Bye," he replied absently, turning the box around so he could look at the sender. The address printed on the label, in addition to the QR code, was one that belonged to 'Fast Hookers' and was probably just the branch where the package had been delivered. And it was somewhere here in New York. He could look up where on google maps, but first he wanted to know what was inside.
"I hope it's not marijuana or something. I can't stand junkies around here," Roy said in his usual cranky yet stern manner.
He looked at him in disbelief. Really? Bill was high all the time and literally left every shift with a joint tucked in his mouth. Roy must have been blind.
"Don't worry. I wouldn't be the one to have the goods delivered by express," he pointed out, though he wasn't entirely sure how true that was. But no, probably not. Delivering pot was for the rich; he bought it from time to time at the bar or from someone at school, like everyone else. Although... he looked at the box. The alpha wouldn't send him some illegal stuff to get him in trouble, would he? That would be... childish and could backfire on him. No, it certainly wouldn't, but he could have been the one to send something. Well, who else would, right?
"You lied to me about your name."
"Yeah, and I don't have an employment contract. I don't think we have anything to blame each other for. I'm going to go unwrap this in the back," he added, holding up the package a little before walking back into the kitchen.
He passed Bill on the way, who of course followed close behind, literally brimming with curiosity, which he gave vent to as soon as Dean set the package down on the vacant spot on the prep board.
"What's that? Who's it from?"
"I'm not sure. Both."
He ripped open the box and-after a brief hesitation and a stern glance in Beta's direction to knock it off the shoulder it was stuck to-opened it. There was another box inside. It had a gold ornamental print, was tied with a gold ribbon with a big bow, and looked quite expensive. It was the kind of hard, good quality paper, and the ribbon was not paper, but cloth and finished with glass beads.
He had no doubt now who it was from, but still he hesitated again before untying the ribbon and lifting the lid. The box was lined with fine paper, as if it contained something fragile, but when he unwrapped the paper there was just another box. A dark red one again, with a card printed in gold with his name in a heart of gold, and the box itself had a transparent rectangle on the lid, showing something colourful underneath.
At the very first moment, he wasn't sure what he was looking at, because it almost looked like a collection of colored jewelry or paperweights. It wasn't until the word 'Chocolat' was written in gold along with some French gibberish that told him it was bloody candy. And definitely not the kind that was sold in bags literally everywhere. These were some fancy pieces, made in various colors, including gold, had chocolate and caramel decorations on them, and just looked like little statuettes rather than candy.
Alpha sent him... a candy bar.
That was... wow...
A small smile began to lift the corners of his mouth.
Castiel had sent him chocolate as an apology for what had happened. It was kind of silly, because maybe a beer like that or a good bourbon would have been more to his liking. Or maybe a proper cherry or apple pie. But hey! He liked chocolate, too, and these candies looked a little weird, but he bet they'd be damn good. He was salivating already.
He opened the last box and revealed all the candies in all their glory, including their wonderful chocolate, caramel, nutty... just including their incredible scent that wafted out into the neighborhood with such force that it boldly drowned out the burnt oil and cheap cleaning products.
"Luxurious!" whistled Bill.
"From my Alpha," he boasted, and his Omega purred with happiness as he referred to Castiel as his Alpha in front of a stranger, because in front of Sam it was something else.
He pulled a candy out of the box, it was shaped like a rose and even smelled like a rose and was so thickly dusted with some pink pearlescent powder that the dark chocolate it was made of wasn't even visible. He popped the rose in his mouth and started chewing and... God! It just tasted incredible. Like strawberries, but with something else. I guess it was the fact that the chocolate rose smelled like a rose. Yeah, I guess that was it.
"Here..." He pulled a candy bar out of the box and offered it to Billy, who was watching him hungrily.
"Thanks, pretty boy," he thanked and picked out a golden candy.
He swallowed and selected another. He had the urge to just stuff all the candy in his mouth at once, but he controlled himself to enjoy it. And how good it was! So many flavors and aromas... perfect. He took one candy after another and as he chewed and savored the deliciousness, he reflected on yesterday afternoon.
Alpha was probably genuinely sorry, maybe, who knows, even ashamed that he had lost control of himself and that was why he hadn't heard from him for so long. That could be true, couldn't it? Come to think of it, Dean wondered if Castiel really didn't have any experience with Omegas - and yeah, he definitely believed that. The alpha had never lied to him yet - then again, the scent of an aroused Omega could just overwhelm him completely. It was said that it was difficult, if not impossible, for an Alpha to resist such a scent. Only the Omega of heat was stronger, which as he knew from his own unfortunate experience, could draw the Alpha through a wall or door just as easily.
Cas didn't know how to deal with the smell of a horny Omega properly, he was a little out of control and...anyway, when Dean said loud and clear that he didn't want to, he stopped. Immediately. He didn't even hesitate. Yeah, he was angry and sharp afterwards, but he could understand that. A hard cock in his pants and no chance to jerk off anytime soon was a damn unpleasant thing. He knew that all too well. A random tent for completely bizarre reasons, like the smell of roasting chicken, was his daily bread. Several times a day, in fact. Sometimes even without the bizarre reason.
Yeah, that's exactly what happened.
And looking at the pistachio-scented candy, Dean was pretty sure he could forgive Cas. The awkward misunderstanding, I'm sure, about Lisa...
"You probably have some liebesbrief in there," Bill cooed over the candy.
"Heh?"
"That's German for love writing," Beta explained, nodding his head toward the box.
Dean's gaze fell on the rather large envelope that lay at the bottom amongst the fine papers, originally hidden underneath the candy. Unlike everything else, it was completely plain, which made him all the more curious. All of the boxes, the wrappers, the papers, the cards, looked like they were from the candy store where Alpha had bought the candy, but the envelope was just as simple as Cas would surely use.
He shoved the candy into Bill's hand and reached for the envelope.
When he turned it over to open it, there was a rather strange message on it. In neat, handwritten script it said 'Do you know him?' in black pen. That was confusing enough, so with a furrowed brow he opened the envelope and reached in for the stack of papers.
He had barely halfway slid them out when his blood froze in his veins. He cast a quick glance at Beta, who was thankfully engrossed in taking the candy, so he didn't notice what peeked out of the envelope.
"I'm going to go read it outside," he muttered, not giving Bill a chance to say anything, just running out quickly.
On the way, he grabbed a garbage bag more so the door would close behind him and Beta wouldn't have the urge to go see what he was doing.
The door slammed, the lock clicked, and Dean found himself in a dark back alley, lit only by a small lamp on the photo booth that was above the door, holding a white envelope in his stiff fingers. The air was so cold that it was already making puffs of steam near his mouth, but he hardly noticed it as he slowly opened the envelope and this time pulled the stack of printed papers pages completely out.
It looked like a joke or footage from CSI: NY, but he knew it was real. The first photo was of someone's bloody right hand. Fortunately, he could tell right away that it wasn't Lisa's because it was visibly massive and covered in black hair, but that was only a small consolation. It couldn't do much to offset the fact that he could see the sharp points of broken finger bones poking out of the bloody skin and flesh, or the clear imprint of the heel of someone's boot on the palm of his hand.
He turned to the next picture.
There were two arms and only a small piece of torso, no head. One arm was broken as in the first picture, the other looked intact at least as far as the part below the wrist was concerned. In fact, both arms had obviously broken forearms.
He moved on to the next picture.
There was a human body. Only the back was visible at the moment, but it was definitely a man, and he definitely had a skull shot through. From the front. He could tell easily because he'd seen plenty of bullet holes in living flesh and knew that the entry wound was usually small while the exit wound was much larger. Here, it looked like someone had ripped the back of the guy's skull off. You could see inside. There was a fucking mashed brain, all sorts of membranes and other shit mixed in with the massive amount of blood that was spilling around the guy's head.
His hands shook a little as he turned to the next photo.
There was finally a face. Taken close up, the picture also showed someone's fingernails embedded in the dead guy's hair, as if someone was holding the head to give the photographer a good angle. The dead guy had a bullet hole in his head. Pretty clean... no, not just pretty clean, it was fucking perfectly clean. The blood had been carefully wiped away so that the beam shot was clearly visible, quite small for the mess the projectile had made on the other side, and underneath the shot were two brown, open eyes covered in a grayish haze. The eyes dried out like that after a couple of hours without blinking. He knew this because he'd been hunting with his dad a hundred times, and they'd usually taken a deer or a boar. Someone had taken pictures of the dead guy long after he was dead.
He tore his gaze away from the perfectly clean hole and looked at the guy's face. It took him... it took him a hell of a long time, but he finally recognized him. It was the loser he'd chased away from the slot machine in the arcade to play a shooter.
He was dead.
Alpha killed him.
But why the fuck?!
Dean didn't even know his name. He barely remembered his face, and if that damn trip to the arcade hadn't hung over him like a dark cloud, he wouldn't have remembered the Alpha's face at all by this time. What fucking reason did Castiel have to kill him, after all...
It suddenly dawned on him.
He was flirting with the Alpha, and unlike Lisa, he was doing it deliberately to get his attention and thus distract him from the game he wanted to play. But it was nothing. Just a harmless flirtation. A joke. A game he'd played with Alphas a million times to get them to forgive him a dollar when paying for a purchase or give him a few extra fried wings.
The poor guy was harmless. He wasn't even very groping, just touched Dean's back... with his right hand. The one that Alpha's man... shit, maybe Castiel himself, broke into pieces.
Slash's solo shattered the stupor he was in.
He winced a little, but managed to get his phone out of his pocket pretty quickly. He remained staring at it. One word; Castiel, seemingly returning his gaze. The alpha was calling him and Dean knew he had to take it.
He tapped the green button and put the phone to his ear.
There was a brief silence on the other end before a deep, gravelly voice sounded:
"Hello, Dean. Did you get my present?"
"Why did you do that to him?"
"You know why I did it. You should be asking why I sent you the pictures."
Dean swallowed and looked at the photos in his hand again.
Yeah, he knew why the Alpha had done it. He fucking knew all too well, and he knew it was all his fault too. That was the fucking reason he'd sent him the pictures? And the candy... why the fuck did he send him the candy?
"Do you know why I sent you the pictures?" Alpha asked, probably because he'd been silent for too long.
"No..." he breathed, and honestly no, he had absolutely no idea what Alpha was up to, unless he just wanted to torture him for no reason.
"You haven't apologized to me yet."
Apologize? The thought seemed so strangely abstract, because he didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to apologize for. No, actually, he already knew. He had to apologize for flirting with that now-dead poor Alpha and Lisa, and maybe that would be what saved her life. Only, he realized with horror, her life wasn't as important as the suddenly growing compulsion to apologize to Alpha just so he wouldn't be angry at him anymore. He was his Alpha and Dean's inner Omega was whining and howling in its need to see him and do whatever it took to make him happy. To make things go back to the way they were before. To their trysts, to Cas's crooked smile and the gentle warmth in his eyes, to hot kisses and what might actually end up being a damn good fuck. Not that that mattered right now, but it flashed through his mind anyway.
He inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm himself, pushing his Omega into the corner of his mind to at least partially quell the stupid urge. That wasn't the point at all. This had to be about Lisa and the hope that the Alpha would be willing to leave her alone after the apology.
"Can I... see you?" He asked. "I'm at work right now, but..."
"I'll come see you," the Alpha replied, and the line went silent.
He stood like an idiot for a moment longer, the deaf cell phone to his ear, before he slowly put it down and looked at the now black screen.
Alpha followed him.
Notes:
Matejska - Matějská pouť/St. Matthew's fair is the biggest temporary amusement park in the Czech Republic. It takes place every spring in Prague, has a 400-year tradition and is organized in honor of Saint Matthew. Those who grew up in Prague have certainly visited 'Matějska' at least once in their life.
Chapter Text
He pressed the pedal a few times to wring out the mop and then ran it over the floor a few more times. One of the customers dropped a bottle of ketchup on the floor, it popped open and the ketchup splattered on the floor like blood. It didn't look like the photos Alpha had sent him. Ketchup just wasn't blood, and Dean knew it. It was just similar enough in a way that it gave him pause when he stood next to the spilled ketchup and was about to mop it up. He stared at it long enough for Roy to yell at him, telling him that if he slacked off he'd get fired.
He couldn't afford to lose his job, so he wiped up the ketchup honestly, just wiping off the residue so no one would slip on it. All that was left was a slightly damp floor, to which he set a small warning cone, then shoved the mop handle into the handle on the edge of the bucket and turned to drive it back into the kitchen when his eyes fell on the window.
The alpha was standing in the street. How long had he been there?
He was motionless, watching Dean through the glass with an impassive face and cold, blue eyes. When their gazes met, he squinted his eyelids a little and tilted his head to the side. They looked at each other like that for a few more moments before Castiel glanced briefly at the door to the diner, then back at him, and finally decided to enter.
He tensed in anticipation, literally watching every quick step Alf took towards him. He even watched the man himself, trying to read from his appearance and face what state of mind he was in. Alpha looked normal, dressed as always in his expensive jacket and trousers still the same black colour, off-white shirt and black tie. And showing off his money with a gold watch, a massive cross around his neck, a ring on his left hand and a bracelet that matched style.
If he had any of his subtle expressions on his calm, almost impassive face, Dean couldn't tell because he was too nervous and distracted.
Castiel stopped right in front of him, finally rearranging his face into some clear expression; a questioning raise of his eyebrows.
"Hey Alpha," he greeted him quickly, to which the Alpha didn't reply, so he looked around nervously. "I have to put this in the back. I'll be right back. In the meantime, have a seat somewhere... Please," he added quickly so as not to sound disrespectful.
Alpha's gaze wandered over his shoulder, how else but to the tables against the wall.
"I'll be waiting for you," he replied, and without another glance at Dean, went to find a seat.
He waited until the Alpha was seated at a table fully against the window, but also with the wall behind him, before pushing the cart with the bucket of water into the kitchen, where he deposited it in the corner where it belonged. On the way back he met Roy, who already looked like he was going to go to Castiel to take over his lunchbox. He waved him over to indicate that he had it, and grabbed the small green apron that held a pad for writing down orders. And made his way to Castiel's desk.
"Sit down," Castiel ordered him as he stood at the table, and it took some effort for Dean to disobey his order immediately.
"I can't. You have to order first. Roy... the boss has a rule that anyone who doesn't order food can't sit here, so... what do you want?" He asked, pulling the local menu off the rack to place it in front of Alpha. The latter pulled it towards him very briefly and ran a disinterested eye over it before pushing it aside.
"Pick me something."
"Okay. I'll get you our chicken special," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral and not let any of the sounds his inner Omega was making seep in, and made a note on his notepad. "I'll wait for it in the kitchen, you know... to make sure the cook shakes all the rat poop out of the bun," he added, and yes, he made a desperate attempt at a joke just to lighten the tension between them. He knew it was a bad idea when he started the sentence, and Castiel's blank expression only confirmed it.
He ducked his eyes obediently, like a proper Omega and it wasn't even too hard or against his beliefs, and quickly returned to the kitchen.
As promised, he did indeed stay in the kitchen, but all the while, from behind the door, he watched Alpha sitting perfectly still at the table, looking out into the thin night traffic. His hands were folded calmly in front of him, his face illuminated by the street lamps and the red lights of passing cars, and he looked not only composed but majestic and beautiful. And certainly not like someone who might have brutally butchered someone a few hours ago. Just like when they first met. He didn't look any different then either, and yet Dean had seen him snap the necks of two Betas like they were nothing more than chickens. There was something impressive about it then. Shit... there was something impressive about it this time, too.
He felt sorry for the Alpha from the arcade, and he felt guilty for his death, because while it was all unintentional with Lisa, it was completely intentional with this guy. There, he had put him and himself at risk of Castiel's wrath on purpose, though not entirely consciously - no, he hadn't realized then that Alpha could go that far. In fact, he hadn't even realized that he would find out.
Yet for all that his stupidity and indiscretion had caused, the feeling from that first night had returned. The nagging thought that this Alpha was exactly the kind of dangerous and deadly person he needed, because only someone like that was strong enough to protect him in a world full of shit. Which is also why he was the only one he'd be willing to trust with his safety and the safety of his pups. Who he could give himself to. Once. Maybe. Fuck, those were such twisted thoughts. I mean, Castiel was going to kill Lisa. He sent him pictures of the corpse. In his own way, he was threatening Dean himself... What kind of sick and diseased Omega would want to have puppies with someone like that?!
Well, what Winchester, you. And what are you wondering, man? Any other person would shit themselves in horror if they got a whole stack of pictures of a dead body from some mobster, and you? Your hands were just shaking a little.
Bill interrupted his thoughts by pressing the buzzer to announce that the meal was ready, even though Dean was standing right next to him. He gave him a cranky look and Beta just shrugged.
He picked up his plate and returned to Alpha's table.
In that time, the smell around where he sat had managed to settle down a little, so Dean could sniff the air cautiously and find that the pleasant aroma of roasting cherries was almost as strong as the bitterness of the almonds, and it was actually all subtly spiced with what he would have called sadness or perhaps insecurity in anyone else. It was a lot like the nervousness he'd smelled when they'd first met in the Virgin, but more... more unhappy or something.
He wasn't sure.
He set the plate down in front of Alpha, who immediately looked up at him.
"One burger with farm chicken, mushroom mayo, and sweet pickles and fries. And one iced tea with lemon," he added along with placing a glass of tea on the table as well, a long blue straw sticking out of it.
The alpha glanced over the food, whereupon he gave Dean a significant look.
"I'm taking a ten minute break, Roy," he called to his Beta boss before slowly sitting down across from the Alpha.
He waited to see if Castiel would say anything, but instead he picked up the burger and bit into it with as much calm as if he'd just come in for a very late dinner. Plus, he didn't even look disgusted as he swallowed the first bite and took another, finally glancing over the seed-sprinkled bun at Dean.
It was probably Dean's turn to start, so he licked his lips and decided to ask that one important question to be one hundred percent sure how he was doing. There was something, like a small spark of hope, that he wasn't responsible for someone's death.
"Those pictures... it was real, wasn't it?"
Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly, until it looked like irritation.
It was all it took to make even that small hope go away. So yeah, he really was responsible for the poor Alpha's death. Now it was absolutely certain and confirmed. He felt bad, but strangely no more bad than before. He kind of expected that having Alpha confirm it would make him feel even worse, except... The thing was, of course he regretted what he had done. It was all his fault, even if he didn't realize the risks. Still, the guy was just a stranger he'd seen for maybe five minutes. Even his stupid Omega instincts couldn't make him care after such a short time.
"If you don't trust the photos, you can see for yourself."
He blinked in surprise.
"Do you have it like... here?" he must have asked like a fool, because the Alpha made an irritated scoffing sound and the corner of his mouth rose in mockery. But what could he wonder? It sounded like Castiel had brought a dead body with him. And honestly, Dean was damn sure he'd be capable of something like that.
"Of course not. I don't take out the garbage myself anymore. Besides, the trunk of none of my cars is bulky enough to hold such a large load. But..." he wrapped his fingers around the jar and continued while holding it as if he were really just talking about taking out the trash, "we had to put it on ice. That's why I might as well take you to it and show you."
He frowned in confusion. Wasn't 'put on ice' slang for just killing someone? It used to be in the movies, but when it came to real life... yeah, he knew quite a bit of the bad side of the law, but he hadn't known any real killers until he met Castiel. The fact that he'd seen one guy stick a knife in another guy's kidney in a bar didn't count.
"That wasn't a euphemism," said Castiel, who must have noticed his confusion. "We literally had to put the bags of his remains in the freezer. We're having a little trouble disposing of the waste now. Police bitches are occupying the usual export routes. You didn't pick a good time," he added, taking another bite of his hamburger.
Bags...? That meant they'd cut the body up into extra pieces, which then had to be stored in some really big freezer. Big enough to hold the whole body, which was like... what? Two hundred pounds of meat, bone and fat. That's a hell of a big freezer, like they have here at the diner or any restaurant. For example... at the Doll.
"Is it at the Doll?"
The alpha turned a mildly surprised gaze towards him, his scent instantly filling with a soft wave of sweet happiness, as if pleased by Dean's quick deduction. He appreciated that he had a sense of where to hide someone's corpse. And while rationally it seemed rather disturbing, Dean actually liked that little bit of appreciation on Alpha's part.
"Yes. You guessed right. Grigory may not be happy about it, but everywhere else was either already full or threatened to be raided by the police." He finally took a sip of his tea, only to grin in disgust and set it down again along with his burger. "There's certainly ice and lemon in it, but it's nothing to do with the tea," he commented in a way he hadn't just moments ago, as if he wasn't talking about the corpse hiding in the freezer, and then he pushed the chewed food away with finality and looked pointedly at Dean. "I assumed you'd invited me here to tell me something."
Dean returned the look.
He was well aware that an apology was Lisa's only hope, and he was determined to apologize, but the words were stuck in his throat. He'd replayed the whole scene a thousand times in the nearly hour it had taken the Alpha to get here, trying to come up with the right words, only Castiel had kind of taken the wind out of his sails with how calmly he'd acted. If he was at least as angry as he was last time... apologizing would be a lot easier.
He did what was expected of him; he put his face into that properly contrite expression and lowered his eyes to the tabletop.
"I'm sorry, Alpha."
"Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry for mocking and humiliating you in front of your men."
So that was out, so he could start haggling over Lisa? No, probably not. Not by the displeased expression and the whiff of bitterness and sourness that reached his nose. What was wrong? I mean, he apologized.
"That's all you expect me to apologize for?" A sharpness bordering on a growl slipped into his voice.
"Yes... you yourself..."
"Not only did you humiliate me, you hurt me," he interrupted. "You hit me right here." He tapped his fingers on his chest as he suggested that perhaps Dean had stabbed himself in the heart. "I trusted you, Dean. I trusted you and asked for nothing in return and you abused my trust and cheated on me. That's what I want your apology for. A sincere apology. And until I get it... I'll be the one hurting you. That's fair, don't you think?"
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair! Yeah, he could understand what bothered the Alpha because he was like all Alphas; a jealous, possessive fucker. But it wasn't fair to accuse Dean so harshly and mercilessly of infidelity because... he wasn't being unfaithful, okay? He never would have been. He couldn't even imagine being with anyone other than Castiel anymore. Except maybe fantasies about porn actresses, but even an Alpha as possessive as Castiel couldn't accuse him of that.
Shit. After all, after a day without at least talking to Cas, he felt like some poor sap without his fix. He was addicted to his cherry scent, his crooked smile, his fucking blue eyes...
The righteous fury with which he slammed his palm on the table overcame him.
"I didn't cheat on you!"
He realized immediately that it was a mistake, because Roy immediately rolled out from behind the counter and headed towards them. At that moment, the Alpha raised his hand in the same commanding gesture he used on his men, and since it didn't have the proper effect - Beta hesitated, but didn't stop - he bared his teeth some more. It was only that that really made Roy pause, and after a quick glance between Castiel and Dean, both of whom returned it, he muttered something under his beard, turned on his heel, and walked back behind the counter.
Few Betas wanted to get in between Alpha and Omega.
"Keep your voice down, Omega. You're attracting too much attention," Castiel ordered as soon as he turned to him.
He had to grit his teeth to keep from growling loudly in anger.
"How am I supposed to keep my voice down when you're accusing me of..." he swallowed the rest of his sentence, which would have sounded too wronged, and instead really lowered his voice to an angry whisper. "I didn't cheat you! I would never do that! I couldn't, do you understand?" He growled at Alpha, who responded by straightening up and holding his head up in a lesser pose, but he didn't do anything Alpha enough that Dean couldn't resist. "I didn't know that Alpha at all. That was the first time I saw him and all I wanted was for him to move away from the machine so I could play. That's all!"
"Did you offer him a dime a game?" Castiel asked sharply.
"Yes! No! No..." he ruffled his hair desperately and wearily. His Omega was whining softly and he really didn't want to argue with the Alpha, but he had to clear this up. He looked Castiel firmly in the eyes, determined not to flinch no matter what his instincts told him. "I don't have money like you do. I can't buy everything and everyone. I can't do anything really useful in life, like fixing cars at most, but no one's going to give job to a sixteen-year-old Omega. Few people will give a job in garage to any Omega. Yeah, I'm good at stealing, but... I'd say you know that pickpocketing doesn't make a living for two. I simply have nothing but... this," he touched his hand to his own shoulder. "I've learned how to take advantage of being an Omega and make the Alphas do what I want. I had to learn that because sometimes it was the only way to get Sammy something to eat. It was either that... or I could go sell myself on the corner. Do you understand?" he asked pointedly. "I didn't want.... I never wanted that Alpha, I just wanted him to do something for me."
He blurted it all out with a primal relief that quickly began to dissipate. This was definitely not a good defense, especially since he had tried to use Alpha Castiel in the same way a few times. On the other hand, that was what their whole deal was about. Alpha didn't have to be surprised that he was doing it, because he was willing to pay him in gifts and money, so everything was working as it should.
"Okay," Castiel surprised him with a simple answer that seemed to acknowledge what Dean had told him. "You'll never do that again. If you need anything, you'll ask me for it. I'm your Alpha and I'll take care of you. Always! Do you understand, Dean?" He added, his voice much softer than he'd spoken before, and the way his shoulders slumped looked like he meant it. As if he was trying to make himself smaller, more harmless, and thus prove that he meant his words despite his anger.
Dean opened his mouth to contradict him. Castiel wasn't his true Alpha, as much as he liked to pretend he was, and yet Dean's Omega, and indeed himself, wouldn't have minded. Not anymore. But in the end, he said nothing. It was much nicer to enjoy the false sense that the Alpha really cared about him, really cared about him. And that it wasn't just general Alpha jealousy, possessiveness, and obsession with controlling what the Alpha thought was his.
He lowered his eyes with a sigh
"Yes, Alpha. And I promise I'll never do it again," he replied in the way he was sure Alpha wanted to hear, though he simply couldn't mean it. Relying on Alpha would have been nice, but life experience had taught him a lesson. "Also... I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry if it offended you. I didn't mean to," he continued with an apology, which was what Alpha wanted to hear.
If he could also believe that he had truly hurt Castiel, himself and his feelings, not the Alpha's pride, he would be truly sorry and his apology would be completely sincere.
There was such a long pause on the other side of the table that he finally looked up and met Castiel's eyes. It was only then that the Alpha moved. He relaxed and gave a slight nod of his head.
"All right. I accept your apology," he said, almost ridiculously formal, and if he hadn't known it was a stupid thing that would surely cost Lisa her life, he might have actually laughed at the tone.
He swallowed that laugh and lowered his eyes again like an obedient Omega. This brought the unfinished burger and fries into his field of vision, as well as the tea the Alpha had so criticized, and not knowing what to do with his hands or himself he reached for his drink and took it before he realized it was a bad idea. It was very easy to annoy Alpha by taking something out of his hands without permission. One of the important lessons one learned quickly when delivering food in businesses like this one. Or even worse.
He looked up quickly, but Castiel didn't seem offended by the fact that he'd taken his tea, so he finished the motion he'd started and sipped. The tea wasn't bad, pleasantly sweet, very lemony, just the way he liked it. He didn't know what the Alpha was complaining about.
He took another sip and the silence began to lengthen.
His ten minute break seemed to have long since ended, but Roy surprisingly didn't come to pull it out. Alpha's presence was probably reason enough to give him a break, but it certainly wouldn't stop him from taking some of Dean's paycheck. He had to get back to work soon, but first...
"What about Lisa?" He said as he set the glass back down where Castiel had it earlier.
"What about her?"
He looked at him.
"I apologized to you. I begged for her. Is she still next on the list?"
Castiel didn't answer right away, instead he squinted his eyes and slowly began to tilt his head to the side, that impossibly piercing gaze fixed directly on Dean with such force that he almost ducked under it, but held himself and didn't lower his head. Though maybe that was what the Alpha wanted, or should have done, to have a better chance of convincing him that he didn't need to kill Lisa.
"You really care about her," he finally uttered in a way that sent chills down Dean's spine. It wasn't because he had anger or jealousy in his voice, no, oddly enough, it was more like a calculating sort of thing. Like he'd just been dealt a good hand.
He could deny that he cared about the Beta girl, but that would be a lie, because he did. Maybe he wasn't as attracted to her as he used to be, but... it was Lisa. A sweet, good-smelling Lisa who, if nothing else, was his friend. So no, he couldn't deny anything, and if he tried, Alpha would surely know a lie.
"Enough that I don't want her to die, but not the way you think. Not anymore," he uttered, immediately pausing; he shouldn't have said that, and the way the Alpha straightened up it was clear he'd noticed the small remark all too well. He had to quickly think of something to explain it. Something like... yes, he already knew and he was sure it would work. "I used to like her, but that was before I met you, Alpha," he said quickly, reaching across the table to place his hand on Castiel's forearm; Alpha looked down at his hand. "After all, we are... True Mates. That's a bond no Beta girl can break, right?" He asked, and Alpha looked up at him again. "Or... do you think so?"
Alpha watched him for another few long moments before answering:
"No, of course not. True Mates come by the will of God, and nothing mundane is strong enough to break such a bond."
"So you see," he put enough positivity in his tone to make it seem like he was pleased as well. "Whatever it was with Lisa, it meant nothing. You don't have to get rid of her because she can't threaten us."
"You're trying to trick me."
The statement was said with such unaffected calm that Dean didn't know what to say for a moment. Fortunately, he recovered in time.
"No, absolutely not. I'm just saying..."
"Oh yes, you are, and not for the first time," he interrupted with a ruthless statement, pulling his hand out from under his. "You didn't think I didn't know about this, did you?" He asked significantly; Dean just lowered his eyes. "I'm not blind or stupid. I know you try to manipulate me sometimes, just like you did with that Alpha in the game room. I tolerate you because it's fun, but this time you're asking too much of me," he said it with such seriousness, as if it really meant something, though Dean had no idea what it was supposed to mean.
Castiel gave him another, long look before his gaze wandered behind his back with what sounded a lot like a tired sigh. And his scent took on a faintness that was very much suited to the look of resignation with a hint of irritation that was reflected on his face in the form of a taut upper lip and wrinkles at the root of his nose.
"Our business has been under too much police scrutiny lately for me to afford to attract attention by leaving behind the bodies of beautiful white middle-class schoolgirls just because my Omega can't keep his hands to himself. I can show her mercy for it and my men will overlook it, but Dean... my men aren't the only ones in this game. Not even close. If you do this again," he stressed in a very firm voice that made Dean involuntarily cringe a little, "I won't be able to forgive you anymore. I'd lose face and respect, and if I lose respect, I'll lose the power to protect you." With those words, and much to Dean's surprise, he stood up and reached into his pocket for a wad of money. "I suspect you don't understand that yet, but in time you will understand how things work in our world. For both our sakes, I hope you don't find out too hard," he finished, tossing a bill on the table.
"Alpha..." he addressed him as it looked like he was going to leave without anything else.
Alpha looked him in the eye with a slightly questioning raised eyebrow and shoved the bills back into his pocket
"Does this mean... we're good?" He asked instead of caring about Lisa, because he cared a hair more about whether Alpha was angry with him... if they were still 'together' rather than his friend's life. God, Winchester, you're an utterly pathetic, needy Omega, nothing else, he thought with some self-loathing, but that didn't stop him from waiting with bated breath to see how the Alpha would express himself.
It took far too long for the corners of Alpha's eyes and lips to relax and his expression softened as he reached out and cupped Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"Of course you do, moy milyy Din," he replied, leaning in a little. "But it'll be a while before I trust you again like I did before," he added as he let go and straightened up again, whereupon he sized Dean up, his head tilted a little to one side and his expression quizzical. "I have one question... why does your breath smell like cheap marijuana?"
He blinked in surprise at the absurd turn the whole conversation had taken.
"I took a couple of choudas to calm myself down," he admitted, also what else was there to do since the Alpha could tell anyway, and then raised his hand in front of his face and breathed to see how bad his breath smelled. Yeah, there was probably a little something in there, but that it was strong enough for anyone to tell if the weed was cheap or not. Like he didn't suppose Bill had the best stuff available, considering how much he'd smoked and that he had to fund it on his salary here.
"You shouldn't smoke that shit."
He looked up at Alpha in disbelief and simply couldn't help a sarcastic smirk.
"Says the drug dealer," he snapped, tensing. It probably wasn't the best idea to irritate Alpha with his insolence right now, since he could barely get him to stop being angry and not kill Lisa.
"Yes, says the dealer who has a nose for the good stuff," Alpha replied calmly. "Come with me, I'll give you something better," he urged, and without waiting to see if Dean would follow suit, he simply headed for the door.
He hesitated a little, confused by the complete change in Alpha's demeanor, but then he rose to his feet and quickly followed. He caught up with him still at the door, which Castiel had stupidly gallantly held open for him, and then led him a short distance down the street to his car. It was the Ferrari from their first meeting, parked on a blinker not far from the parking meter, and since Castiel hadn't taken out the key to open it, he'd left it unlocked the whole time. Dean wasn't sure if he valued his belongings so little, since he could easily buy new ones. Even shit as expensive as luxury cars were. Or maybe he's just so confident that no one will steal from him, because after all, everyone knows who he is and what awaits him if they touch his stuff.
The alpha slid into the passenger seat just so he could get into the glove compartment, his long legs sticking out of the door, and started rummaging in the glove compartment. There were books, two tattered paperbacks, a paper map, stacks of cigarette packs, some empty, and a couple of disposable lighters and condoms. Not one or two, but right away a whole roll of the cheapest one-pack condoms you could get. Finally, he pulled out two plastic bags. One, the one that contained a couple of latex gloves - he suspected that Alpha's reasons for having them there wouldn't be entirely legal - he put back, and with the other he slipped out of the car.
In it were several nicely rolled butts that looked like real cigarettes. Not the crumpled and somewhat slobbery thing Bill was rolling.
"Lady Scratch." He patted the bag.
"Lady Scratch?" He asked incredulously, because it was a ridiculous name.
"Don't ask. We don't grow it or give it a name, but it's quality stuff. Far better than the garbage you're pulling," he replied, unzipping the bag and pulling out one cigarette, then handing the rest to Dean. "When you want more, just ask my men. Most of them always have something on them."
He took the packet and turned it over in his hand, inspecting the lovely joints that were perhaps a shame to smoke. Then he looked at Alpha.
"Do you just drive around with this in your car?"
"It's legal." He shrugged slightly and rolled the gum between his fingers. "Five or fewer pieces packed is defined as personal use. The police can't even confiscate it from me."
"I didn't know that..." he let the sound trail off and looked down at the bag in his hands. It was enough to allow him to examine it properly. In fact, probably more than he'd ever owned
"Dean," the Alpha addressed him; he looked up to him and Castiel placed his large, warm hand on his cheek, looking closely into his eyes as he leaned in a little. "I want you to stay home this weekend. No more trips with your friends. I want to know where you are and who you're with."
"Yes, Alpha," he agreed without hesitation. Come to think of it, after the way he'd treated Lisa, he probably didn't have any more friends. Not that he minded that much. He already knew the quiet whine of his Omega, who didn't like to leave people he was 'friends' with, and could easily ignore them.
The alpha made a low sound, similar to Dean's now familiar growl, but it wasn't as intense as other times. Still, it was almost a growl, and a moment later a hand fisted in his hair, and Alpha pulled him close so he could bury his nose in his throat.
He froze for a small moment, but as the heavy heady scent of roasted cherries with bitter almonds and sweet honey filled his nose, he simply relaxed, resting his head against Castiel's shoulder and wrapping his arms lightly around his back. In his sober state, and considering what had happened, he wasn't so brave when it came to actual displays of affection.
"I have to go," the alpha sighed close to his ear, enveloping his sensitive skin with his hot and in the autumn night air also very moist breath before pulling away enough that they could look into each other's eyes, their noses almost touching. "I wish I could kiss you..." he sighed a second time, moving his hand to Dean's cheek again and running his thumb over his chin, just below his lip.
He nodded and looked at Alpha's mouth for a small moment. Those damn confident lips that not only knew how to suck the breath from his lungs when they kissed, but looked perfectly stretched around Dean's cock. He definitely remembered that part of their last encounter fondly.
"You can kiss me," he blurted out, looking again into the blue depths that were so close. "I mean... I know we've had arguments and whatever, but... kissing and maybe even something more conciliatory... that's like a classic."
He watched with pleasure and a growl from his inner Omega as the Alpha's corners twitched in amusement.
"I'd still prefer that to kissing, but..." he pulled away to a safe distance, "... I've got work to do."
"A kiss won't take much time..."
"No, it won't..." he agreed, then lifted Dean's hand to his lips and pressed a wet kiss to his pulse. "Good night, Dean, and don't forget to write when your shift is over," he added, letting go and stepping back completely.
"Right. Good night, Alpha."
He stayed out long enough to watch Castiel round the corner, then went back inside to clock out for the rest of his shift and make Bill happy for once with Lady Scratch.
Chapter 22
Notes:
This time it took me a little longer to write the next chapter. I won't make excuses or apologies, I'll tell the truth... it's beer/wine/liquor festival season and I'm carefully impregnating my liver to survive the next eight months of cold weather. :-D There's just no time to write.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He got off the toilet bowl, which he sat on with his legs under him to avoid scrutiny when the bell rang. Fortunately, few people bothered to really look in the stalls to see if anyone was hiding, and mostly they just bent down to check if anyone's shoes were visible. As if any five-year-old wouldn't think of climbing into a toilet bowl.
He stepped out, leaned against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror.
He didn't look bad, in fact better than ever, and he thought he'd put on some weight too. Probably with all the food Alpha was indirectly feeding him. He felt tired though, because the weekend had been exhausting. Not because anything had happened, no, but he felt trapped. Much like those early days when he hadn't known Castiel.
The fact that Alpha's men were on his heels was definitely to blame, and not in the subtle way they had been before. Their car was back in the parking lot and even though he couldn't see it directly from their room, of course he noticed it. That in itself would have sucked, because Sammy could hardly have missed them. Worse, though, was that when he'd gone shopping on Saturday afternoon, Alpha's men had literally blocked his path, declaring that the boss had forbidden Dean to go anywhere. That was complete bullshit. Surely he couldn't forbid him to go shopping and just keep him in their hotel room. He just couldn't do that... except of course he could, and the two armed Betas - Rat Face, civilian name Yuri, and the Driver, whose name was Boris, he later learned - who were in his way were a good reminder of that.
He'd argued with them for a while, telling them to fuck off and growling at them a few times, but they'd been persistent. The only thing Boris had accomplished was to get in touch with someone - Pyotr, he assumed, because from their first meeting he seemed to be in Bratva somewhere above the Betas who were guarding Dean - who then sent them back orders from Castiel himself; he was graciously allowed to go shopping. Under the careful and very close escort of the two Betas.
They drove him far away, to a very fine supermarket in the business district, where he felt like a complete moron among all the people dressed in fancy jackets and designer clothes. And where, of course, they immediately attracted attention.
Beta, in his security guard uniform, noticed them immediately. And not only had he been watching them for some time, he'd even gone so far as to ask who they were and was extremely suspicious, even though Dean was putting on his best harmless Omega smile, just shopping. This was resolved by Boris, who sovereignly identified Dean as an Omega belonging to a wealthy Mannhatten financier and himself and Yuri as his private security. Either the security guard was used to this sort of thing or he was so surprised that he apologized and preferred to leave them alone for the rest of the shopping trip.
The purchase was fucking expensive, but since they had just taken him here, he had no choice but to use his credit card. Before he could actually use it, though, Ratboy pulled out his own card and Boris in turn threw some Omega girl only a few years older than Dean out of his seat at the end of the strip and took over loading the items into the bags himself. And even though a sign shone behind the cash register, explicitly forbidding customers to take the tagged items off the belt, no one had the slightest objection. People just measured all three of them with looks that were incredulous, contemptuous, angry and, frankly, a little fearful.
Yeah, Boris and Yuri were definitely able to give such an impression that nobody wanted to get in their way.
Eventually, the Betas carried all the bags to the car, drove him back, and then carried the bags again almost to the motel door, like he was some damn weak Omega who needed to be taken care of. And at the same time, he wasn't even worth more than a few words to them, purely informative and very polite, especially by Ratty's standards. Dean didn't have to be a genius to figure out that they were afraid to be friendly to him for fear of what the Alpha might do to them. The word must have gotten out that he'd had the Alpha beaten and shot from the game room.
Sighing, he slung the bag over his shoulder and then turned on the tap to scoop up some cold water and rinse his face.
He felt like he was locked in a prison again, with no escape. Sure, it was a nice enough prison with lots of good food and a supply of Netflix shows, but still a prison. A small space of a motel room whose walls fell in on him. It wasn't the first time Alpha... their dad at the time... had ordered him to stay in the room and not come out until he got back, but it was different then. He could see in his father that he was doing it out of fear for their safety. Castiel on the other hand... he had him locked up in a motel for punishment and serving time was always frustrating.
I wish something had happened. Maybe... maybe their Alpha could come back. No, no that wasn't a good idea. Wherever his dad was, he was safe there, even if it was a prison, and if maybe he never planned on going back... for whatever reason... so be it. Hell of a lot better than meeting Alpha Castiel. He could very well imagine their meeting would go horribly and his dad probably wouldn't win.
He turned off the water, grabbed some towels, and headed for the door while he wiped his face and hands. He wanted at least an hour of peace for today, and the abandoned classroom under renovation was a great place to hide and feel in control for a while. That he was doing the stupid shenanigans again, breaking school rules and just being himself, not some fucking Omega literally owned by a mafia boss.
He threw the towels in the trash in a big arc and a small smile crossed his face as he scored right into the trash, but the moment he stepped out into the hallway, he was gone again. He slowly made his way down the silent, empty hallway past the open girls' bathroom.
"...Yes, I know I'm supposed to be in class, Mom," came a familiar voice, "but I needed to talk to you. We need to talk about this some more."
He paused and hesitated.
It was Lisa.
Yeah, none other than her. Her voice was muffled by the fact that she was outside the door, and she was whispering on top of it, but it still sounded urgent to the point of desperation. And as he instinctively sucked in air, he caught a whiff of the smell of distress under all the layers of disinfectant and old urine. Lisa had to be literally desperate, to smell so intensely like Beta, to be picked up at such a distance and over all the other smells.
His Omega didn't like it. She didn't even like the fact that he hadn't seen Lisa in days, and now she was growling quietly to protect, protect, protect on top of that. It was hard to disobey, so he slowly approached the door, opening it ever so slightly to see inside.
Lisa was sitting on the floor against the wall, her phone to her ear, a handful of paper towels in her hand, her cheeks wet from crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, so it was clear she had been crying for a long time and probably not for the first time.
"No, it wasn't. You just decided... yes, I know what happened. I was there... I'm not saying to forgive him, but you can't take us away right now!"
Take who away? Lisa and her brother? Take them where? And why?
"I've got my swim team, my classmates, my friends... I've known Sarah since kindergarten... if we go to Oregon, you'll ruin my whole life!.... I'm not being melodramatic! It's true! This isn't about grandma at all. I love spending holidays with her, but that doesn't mean I want to live with her... Why won't you talk to me? .... Oh, yeah, you're busy again... no, whatever. Bye," she said goodbye to her mother brusquely, sending the phone across the floor in anger.
Oregon? That was on the complete opposite side of the States. The only place they could move from there is to a lighthouse in the ocean. Why did Lisa's mom want to take Lisa so far away?
He definitely opened the door.
The beta girl raised tearful eyes to him and immediately smiled bitterly.
"Great. You..." she said in a tone uncharacteristically aggressive for her, frowning. "What do you want, Winchester?"
"I could hear you in the hallway... and smell you. What happened?" He asked, approaching slowly, his head tilted, exposing his neck, though it didn't really matter in Lisa's case. He did it instinctively, and when he realized he was doing it, he stopped and straightened up.
Lisa only gave him a look of contempt before grabbing the sink and, with his help, lifting herself off the floor and turning her back to Dean.
"None of your business. And I don't understand why you care. It's clear I'm not even worth sending you to hell anymore. Unless you want to laugh at me more in the end," she added, looking into his eyes through the reflection in the mirror.
He took a breath to answer, but quickly realized that he couldn't really explain to Lisa why he did what he did. He could hardly tell her 'hey, I'm kind of dating a fucking jealous Alpha who just so happens to be a Russian mafia boss and would kill you if I continued to hang out with you'. That sounded like a load of bullshit pulled out of a cheesy spy movie, except it was true and sort of a reality of Dean's life.
"Look, I... I didn't want to do this, okay? But for both our sakes... especially yours... it was better that way. You know?" he tried to at least make some sort of apology.
Beta snorted.
"Right. You're a bad boy," she parodied the gruff male voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're skipping school, wearing a leather jacket, and getting into fights with Alphas just to prove a point. And you know what?" she turned to him. 'I really thought you were something special for a while, but you're just a loser. You try so hard not to be an Omega, but I bet you'll still end up with some Alpha and five puppies like everyone else like you!"
That hurt. Not just because Lisa had said it, but because he knew she was right. The events of the last few days had made it painfully clear to him that Castiel wasn't going to let him just walk away. And as all the movies had shown him; being handsome, cooking and giving birth to the continuation of a famous Mafia family was the job of all the wives and Omegas of the big crime bosses. He knew it all along... sort of. But hearing someone else say it, and pretty loudly, just wasn't pleasant.
He clenched his hands into fists.
"You don't know how right you are," he said, turning to leave.
It wasn't his problem why Lisa was leaving New York anyway. He could be rather glad that it was going to happen, because it meant he'd be far away from Alpha. Maybe he really did rule this town, as he claimed to, but surely his connections didn't extend to the other side of States. Lisa would be safe.
"Dean! Wait!" Beta called after him; he stopped but didn't turn to face her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't really know much about you and... I didn't mean to be so mean. I'm sorry. I just..."
He released his hands and turned back to Lisa with a long exhale. She sounded so unhappy, she reeked of sadness, and being an Omega, he couldn't just brush over someone's misfortune. Especially when he knew the person. Fucking Omega instincts that he would have to fight if he decided to leave now after all.
He didn't. Instead, he crossed the distance that made him from Lisa and put his hand on her cheek. Beta looked up at him in surprise. He didn't say anything in response, just pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. He felt her stiffen in his arms for a moment, but then, with a gasp and a gust of happiness, she relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder and finally putting her arms around his back.
Slowly he began to stroke her hair and her back.
"I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm so sorry," he breathed guiltily, his eyes closed, burying his face in her hair and the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with chamomile shampoo.
"What are you apologizing for, Dean?" Beta asked, completely uncomprehending of course, pulling away just enough so they could look into each other's eyes.
He didn't know what he was apologizing for himself. He was probably just taking advantage of the situation to show his regret for putting Lisa in such a dangerous situation. Sure, Beta didn't know anything about the fact that she had literally narrowly escaped a possibly very nasty death, but still... she was entitled to Dean's apology.
"It's not your fault that my dad cheated on my mom," she continued, whereupon she paused, then put her tiny hands away from Dean's back so she could free herself from his grasp and step back. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm even telling you this. I don't want to burden you with my problems if you don't even want to talk to me..."
Oh, so that's what this was about? Lisa's parents had a falling out, were probably getting a divorce, and her mom had just decided to move as far away from her husband as possible. That made a lot of sense.
"I don't mind," he blurted out quickly. "I mean... you can tell me about it if you want. I'll listen," he clarified, trying not to look too eager. He really wouldn't mind if Lisa told him about whatever was bothering her, and it certainly seemed like a good way to make up a little for the danger he'd put her in.
Lisa measured him with a long look before nodding with a sigh and slumping back along the wall to where she had been sitting. He sat down next to her, legs stretched out in front of him as she pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her hip against him a little. He took that as a graceless permission to put his arm around her shoulders.
"It happened last night. Someone rang our doorbell, but when Mom answered, there was no one at the door. Just an envelope addressed to Mom lying on the floor. She opened it and..." Lisa wrinkled her nose. "There were pictures of Dad with one of his work colleagues. Copies of bills from the hotel they'd been going to for the last two years. Whole stacks of printed emails and conversations from chats. They even went on vacation together for a week over the summer, though Dad claimed it was a study seminar." She laughed bitterly, pulled out her cell phone that she'd left lying on the floor earlier and began turning it over absently in her hand. "Mom was out of her mind. She and Dad were yelling at each other and arguing all night. Will just kept crying... Eventually Mom threw Dad out into the hallway. She literally pushed him out, threw a couple of clothes and one of our old suitcases at him and slammed the door in his face. I don't even know where he is now. Maybe I should call or text him..." she looked down at the cell phone in her hands, "except I've seen all the pictures and bills and everything. He cheated on my mom for years. How could I forgive him for something like that?" She asked herself, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on her knees with a sigh. "'And on top of that, my mom wants to go to Oregon to visit my grandmother and take us with her, so I'm mad at her too. I have friends at school, a swim team, I wanted to go to college here in New York..."
Dean frowned.
This sounded too familiar to be a coincidence. But the Alpha had promised to leave Lisa alone and he always kept his word and never lied. He really hadn't. So it couldn't be him. It had to be just a coincidence or... No, wait. Alpha didn't say he'd leave Lisa alone, he just promised not to kill her because it would draw too much attention. That meant he could totally fuck up her life and still keep his word to Dean.
Oh, shit! Son of a bitch! Lisa didn't deserve to die or suffer for Dean's stupidity and indiscretion. It wasn't right that he destroyed her family like that. And Dean was willing to believe that was just the tip of what the Alpha was capable of. He had a shitload of money and acted and pretended like he had the police and everything around him on the hook. Sure, it could have been an act, but somehow Dean knew it wasn't. He imagined he could put Lisa's mom and dad out of work, maybe he could make trouble for her older sister... maybe even Lisa herself. Maybe plant drugs in her locker or put them in one of her parents' cars.
Images of what Alpha could do began to surface in his mind on their own, and with each new one he felt more and more anger. And all that anger had one goal; Castiel. The Alpha hadn't promised him, literally, that he wouldn't do anything to hurt Lisa and her family, but he had to know that that was exactly what Dean had meant when he had asked him for mercy. Alpha was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't. He'd done it on purpose. He'd tricked Dean and still hurt someone he loved to punish him for that supposed betrayal.
He was going to give him a good count, but first...
"You should go to Oregon," he suggested, because it seemed like the only way to get Lisa away from Alpha's vengeance before he could do anything worse to her than what he'd already done.
Lisa turned a surprised look toward him.
"Oregon is on the other side of the States. If we go there, we'll probably never come back..."
"Or maybe you will," he countered to Lisa's incredulous look. "Maybe your mom just needs time to calm down and get everything... you know, straightened out in her head."
"But I understand that Dad hurt her. They were a couple in high school, got married just a few weeks after graduation, and have been together for twenty-five years. It's clear to me that Mom lost everything because of what he did, but so did we. We lost my dad, and I don't want to lose any more of my friends and the life I have here in New York."
"When you meet someone you're drawn to by smell, it's like you can't think," he said; Lisa gave him a confused look. "You're full of him, you know? You have to be somewhere far away from him to really think and make decisions."
"My parents are both Betas, Dean. They're not related by scent or mating."
"Yeah, I know. I meant... your mom needs to be as far away from your dad as possible so she can think. She needs to come home. In Oregon, she might see things more clearly..."
The beta girl frowned thoughtfully, her gaze fixed somewhere behind Dean, then nodded slowly.
"I guess you'd be right..." she let it trail off with a small sigh at the end. "I should stand behind Mom and help her get through this, and if that means going to Grandma's, then we'll go. Thanks for listening and giving me advice. You really are a friend," she added, throwing Dean a grateful smile before leaning over and hugging him again.
He put his hands on her back and pulled her closer, savoring her soft and pleasant scent one last time. It was a little selfish as was the pleasant feeling of satisfaction accompanied by the growl his Omega felt when Lisa called him her mate. A real friend wouldn't ruin her life. The only point in his favor was that he had hopefully at least managed to save her from further revenge on Alpha's part, but that did nothing to assuage his guilt, much less his anger towards Alpha.
"We should get back to class," Lisa pointed out, but by then she was pulling away and starting to wipe her still wet eyes with the back of her hand.
He reached above him for a paper towel and handed it to the Beta girl.
"I'll pass."
"Okay," he nodded. "I'll see you after class then."
"Sure. After class," he agreed with a small smile, even though he hadn't actually intended to see her. Staying as far away from Lisa as possible until she left , was the only right thing to do.
She gave him another small smile, then stood up, grabbed her cell phone, and pressed one quick kiss to his cheek before leaving the bathroom.
The door closed behind Lisa. Dean waited just long enough to not only stop hearing her retreating footsteps, but to be sure she was in class, and then finally picked himself up off the floor. He had a clear target, and that was Castiel, and he honestly didn't give a shit if she was still asleep at this time or if she was going to invade his lair. Granted, he didn't even know exactly where the Alpha lived, but he definitely knew where to find out, plus he had someone to take him there.
He wasn't going to just go over what he'd done to Lisa.
°°0°°
He frowned at the Doll's signboard. Then he slid his gaze to Jacob, who was already standing at the door, obviously ready to open it for him. Oddly enough, getting out of the school was harder than convincing Jacob and Vadim to transport him to Castiel. He had to break into the professors' bathroom downstairs, squeeze through an open window, jump onto the containers that stood below, and finally climb over a tall fence to get off the school grounds.
Next to find an old, scratched Volvo, from which terrible Russian rap screams were coming out and smoke smelling of marjana was coming through the open window, and to demand a ride to Alpha. In the end it took only one call for Vadim to very obligingly, all friendly smiles, open the back door and without much ado he was driven here.
He took a deep breath, clenched his hand into a fist and gritted his teeth, and started for the door.
Jacob opened it for him.
When Dean walked in, he looked around quickly. It was around three o'clock, so he hadn't expected it to be crowded, but it actually looked like no one was in the pub. Or at least no guests, because there were several people in the place. Pyotr, sitting on a bar stool with a beer. Then behind the bar itself was a guy he didn't know yet. He wasn't even as tall as Dean, fair-haired, with massive but rather fat arms and a large belly, over which he had a white apron tied. Pretty sure he was Beta, since he only picked up two Alpha scents. Hot iron and dried dirt trailing from Igor sitting over a bowl of soup at the table just outside the door, who raised his utterly impassive face to him.
And then, of course, Castiel's heavy cherry scent, which grew even thicker and filled with sweet happiness as warm blue eyes fixed on Dean.
"Dean..." the Alpha uttered with a hint of a growl, putting the burning cigarette in the ashtray to his right and stepping away from the bar he'd been leaning against, looking over some papers with the unknown Beta. "What a pleasant surprise," he grunted a second time, making his way over to him, arms outstretched as he prepared to hug and probably kiss him.
He looked so fucking calm, like nothing had happened at all. Like he hadn't ruined Lisa's whole life for absolutely no reason. And yeah, it was a damn good thing too, because he wasn't wearing a jacket and the top few buttons on his shirt were undone so you could see his skin and the black ink decorating his chest.
He wasn't going to, and couldn't, be taken in by Alpha's scent, or his friendly smile, or the fucking intense blue of his eyes, under whose gaze he'd always thought he was special. That he was worthy of some special consideration from an Alpha as strong and perfect as Castiel was.
He took a few brisk steps towards the Alpha and growled angrily, his finger held out to his chest:
"It's your fault, isn't it? Did you arrange this?"
Castiel paused, his eyebrows furrowing and tilting his head in apparent confusion, yet he must have known what Dean was talking about.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Omega, but I don't like your tone," he replied, calmly for now, but without a growl and with a hint of sharpness that surely should have been a warning even more emphatic than the displeasure he was showing at Dean's tone.
His Omega was silently warning him that he had better duck his head and stop treating the Alpha like this. He should submit to him, but he had no intention of doing so.
"Lisa's father. The envelope outside the door. Does that tell you anything yet?!"
"Oh it..." the Alpha replied casually, more like it was some little thing he'd practically forgotten.
He bared his teeth at Alpha in another snarl.
"Is that all you have to say about that? You ruined her parents' lives and why? For absolutely nothing!" He threw up his hands angrily.
"I'm warning you, Dean. Calm down."
"You knew exactly what I meant when I begged you not to hurt her, but you played dumb on purpose. You tricked me and you're a liar!" He accused him with utter ruthlessness, and once again wagged his finger angrily in front of his nose.
What happened next was only a matter of moments.
He barely had time to realise that strong tattooed fingers had wrapped themselves around his wrists and were pulling him towards Alpha. Pain shot up the back of his neck, biting into both of her scent glands, the way Alpha's fingers dug deep into his flesh through his jacket and shirt. More pain exploded in his stomach and flared on his left cheek as he was pinned to the bar with brutal force, his face pressed into the scratched, old wood. The impact against the hard edge took practically all the air from his lungs. Panting, he tried to scoop it up, only to have the heavy weight of Alpha's body press him against the bar with such force that he could barely move, and the bitter smell of anger filled his nose and mouth until his stomach heaved. Or maybe it was the blow he'd taken.
He wasn't damn sure. All he knew was that he couldn't move, his face pressed against the damp wood, his right arm twisted behind his back, and Castiel breathing his rage into the back of his neck. And that every ounce of instinct in him was screaming at him to stop struggling and bare his throat, even though that wasn't really possible because the big hand holding his neck was strong and unrelenting.
"I really don't appreciate being called a cheat and a liar. Especially in front of my men, Omega," Castiel growled in his ear. "I allow you a lot. I like your rebelliousness and passion. But you should learn to know your boundaries and start treating me with the proper respect I deserve for all I do for you." His right shoulder snapped and a hot pain slid up his arm to his wrist as the Alpha bent his arm to an unnatural angle while leaning over him even more to press his lips to his ear. He sucked in air deeply in that sickening way that made the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stand on end, and growled in displeasure as if he found his Omega's scent disgusting. Then he continued darkly, "As for your little Beta friend... I think we've established that what I did to her is nothing compared to what I could do to her. She might as well be on her way to China tonight. Squeezed in the garbage. Do we understand each other?" he hissed, and when Dean didn't respond quickly enough, he tangled his fingers in his hair and lifted his head behind the desk at an unnatural and painful angle. "Answer me!"
"Yes, Alpha," he whimpered, giving in to his Omega and softening in Alpha's grasp as much as the pain and unnaturally tight muscles would allow.
He felt another growl vibrate Alpha's chest and then he was flying to the cold tiles. He landed hard, his right arm numb even for such a short moment. More pain gushed from his side, which he used to hit the ground, and just like that, he managed not to hit his head as well.
He remained lying down. His whole body shook with half-contained rage and the urge to jump to his feet and defend himself as his father had taught him to do, or at least run. Partly because his inner Omega, whimpering and submissively exposing his neck, was literally pushing him to the ground, forcing him to crawl humbly to Alpha's shiny black boots and silently beg for forgiveness. But he would never do something like that. Never! Not even Castiel could make him do that. He'd rather be beaten like a dog, gutted like a pig and rot in a dump somewhere than humiliate himself like this.
But the truth was, he didn't dare resist, or even look up from the floor where he'd stabbed him. What chance would he have either, with Castiel himself towering over him, while being surrounded by four more of his men, one of whom was also an Alpha. And at least three of them were carrying guns. He probably wouldn't even make it to the door if he decided to run.
"You've been trying my patience lately. It's large, but not unlimited. Start paying attention," Alpha's threatening voice, full of coldness, came from above him. "Now get out of my sight and come back when you learn to behave."
The black boots disappeared and Dean allowed himself only a quick glance up at that moment to check where he was going. He saw him grab a pack of cigarettes from the table and then quickly head for the back room.
"Neblagodarnaya Omega suchka," was the last thing he heard before the Alpha completely disappeared from his sight.
There was a silence that actually reminded him that he wasn't alone in the room and also brought a growing sense of humiliation. They could all see that the Alpha had literally brushed him off like a rag doll and that he hadn't even made an effort to resist. He had simply given in, like a proper obedient Omega, and now he was just lying there on the floor like... like a beaten dog. And the Alpha walked away from him like he was something that wasn't even worth his attention. That was the worst part of it all. That and the anger he had at himself for not only being unable to defend himself, even for the second time - god, their Alpha would be so ashamed of him - but also for how desperate he was for the Alpha's forgiveness and attention.
He could feel the burning in his eyes.
No! He certainly wasn't going to cry here and humiliate himself even more.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked himself up off the ground with all the dignity he could still muster. He looked around him. The unknown Beta behind the bar lowered his eyes the moment their gazes met, his expression betraying a deep discomfort, as if he didn't even want to look at Dean. Pyotr wore a calm, composed expression, as if he witnessed similar performances on a regular basis, which he probably did. As for the Golem - he only dared to cast a quick glance in his direction, because he didn't fucking need to attract the attention of a gigantic Alpha monster - he must have gotten up somewhere during his argument with Castiel, because he'd just sat back down at his cabbage-smelling bowl and didn't seem to care about anything around him.
The only one who showed any interest was Jacob. He stepped closer to Dean and actually looked concerned when he asked:
"You okay, boy?"
He bared his teeth and growled.
"I don't need your help," he snapped, because why the hell was he even getting involved. It wasn't his problem, so he could go fuck himself with ease.
Focusing on his anger to quell the whimpering inside him, he started for the door, not caring heartily that he'd taken Jacob down with his shoulder and actually made him stagger. He didn't look back, just opened the door, picked a direction, and quickly continued down the street and away. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know the place and he didn't care. He just needed to get away. As far away from the pub as possible. As far away from all this shit as possible. Away from this neighborhood. Away from this fucking town. Away from Alpha... no, he couldn't get away from Castiel. He didn't want to get away from Castiel, and he wanted to.
The cold, strong wind stung his eyes. He could feel the dampness chill his eyelashes.
Just cry, Winchester. Just show that you're a pathetic little scared Omega shit and nothing else, he taunted himself, but it didn't help. He felt one fucking tear start to roll down his cheek. He wiped it away furiously. God... he was so fucking pathetic. Some fucking knot had gotten angry at him and he had the urge to curl up in a ball under a warm blanket, in a fucking nest he didn't even have, and cry like some little Omega girl. How low he could go.
"Boy! Where do you think you're going?!" He heard Jacob's voice behind him.
"That's not your problem! Then go fuck yourself!"
"It's my problem. We're supposed to be watching you. I won't end up with a shot knee because you're acting like an Omega hysteric. Do you hear me?!" He said angrily, grabbing Dean's shoulder to stop him.
"Don't touch me!" He snarled, along with the way he did, turning around and bravely getting rid of the hand that was gripping his shoulder. "Do that again and I'll tell Alpha you touched my cock. Then you won't just get both knees shot through, you'll end up at the bottom of the Hudson, okay? So stay away."
"Okay..." Beta put his hands palms up and tilted his head to the side exposing his neck in that ridiculous Beta imitation of submission. "Let's just get you home."
"I'm not interested," he snapped, turning and continuing on down the street.
Surely there had to be a bus or subway stop somewhere, and if he didn't stumble upon one within a few minutes, he had google maps. Or take a fucking cab or uber. If nothing else Alpha did for him, he had enough money from him to get a ride.
"You can't wander the streets alone. You have to come with me. You hear me?! I'm not gonna chase you around!"
Heedless of Beto's words, he kept walking, faster and faster, only glancing over his shoulder now and then to find that yeah, the fucker was still following him. He looked across the road, then in one direction, then the other. He saw the perfect opportunity. There were cars coming from both directions. With himself he was sure he was fast enough to avoid them, with Jacob on the other hand he knew that at his age and weight he wouldn't be as nimble.
He timed it nicely, swerving into the road just enough to slip in front of the hood of the first car and darted into the other lane in a flash, avoiding another car. Then he was running, only dimly aware of the braking, horns and Russian swearing that accompanied his successful escape.
But he knew he hadn't won yet, so he kept running, glancing over his shoulder now and then to see if by any chance...
The impact with something soft sent him crashing to the ground. He landed hard on his butt and warm water splashed over his legs.
"Chto ty delayesh', glupyy mal'chik? Razve ty ne mozhesh' smotret' na dorogu?! Ty pochti pobedil menya..."
He looked up at the guy he bumped into. He was old, with skinny arms and legs, but a round belly, and dressed oddly enough only in canvas pants, sandals, and a shirt, even though it was already cold. His wrinkled face was contorted with anger and his lips were slightly parted revealing only three Alpha fangs. His bottom one was missing along with the next tooth. He had a bucket full of water in one hand and a window squeegee in the other.
" Sorry. I don't understand you," Dean blurted out.
"Can't you speak our language?" The old man growled in well-understood English with only a slight accent.
"I'm not Russian..."
The old Alpha made an unintelligible sound that was probably a word and then sucked in air. Once and then again. At that moment he must have caught Dean's scent with certainty because his expression changed. He stopped frowning so much, shoved the squeegee into the bucket, and held out his hand to help him up.
He looked at the offered palm in confusion for a moment before taking it and swinging himself to his feet without actually using Alpha's help. He couldn't burden such an old man, but he couldn't refuse him either. Dad had raised him better.
"Sorry, Alpha. I didn't mean to bump into you."
Old Alpha gave him a strange look. Dean involuntarily remembered at that moment the first time he'd met Castiel, where the Alpha had told him about how they didn't use secondary sexes in his country.
"Thank you for your help, sir," he added quickly and politely, which the old man acknowledged with a slight smile.
"Did you hurt yourself, child?" He asked as he peeled the non-existent trash off Dean's arm.Alf
"No, I'm all right. Thank you, sir."
"You seem like a well-mannered young man. Why are you rushing around on the sidewalk like that?"
For a moment he shuddered, because he really thought that this guy might be one of Alpha's men, but of course that was stupid. Not everyone in this neighborhood was a member of the Bratva who was supposed to be watching him, for example, this old Alpha - he glanced quickly at the store they were standing by - was a bookseller who had simply taken advantage of a moment without customers to go wash the window. Even though he was an Alpha, he was just a harmless old man. But he could be useful. If he could hide in his shop for a while, the Alpha's men might give up and not look for him, and they were looking for him, he was sure of it.
"Kind of..." he admitted, lowering his gaze in mock embarrassment and showing his neck.
The hoarse grunt was exactly the response he expected, just as he expected the hand that landed on his shoulder. Old or not, he was still an Alpha bookseller, and he knew how to act like one.
"Come on. I'll make some hot tea and you can warm up in my shop for a while," he said, cupping a hand to the back of Dean's head with a gentleness that contrasted with how roughly his Alpha had treated him earlier, and with just the slightest pressure he steered him towards the door to the shop. "Let's give your Alpha some time to calm down. Young Alphas can be explosive... oh yes, I still remember what I was like..."
"Ya pozabochus' o nem, starik,," came from behind Dean's back.
He didn't understand the words, but he recognized Jacob and immediately tensed. The old Alpha must have sensed this, of course, and in fact he straightened up determinedly as he prepared to protect Dean, and turned to Jacob with a true Alpha expression. It was clear that he would at least growl at Beta now, and if nothing else it would be amusing, only the Alpha's face suddenly paled and all dominance and determination disappeared with the quick removal of his hand from Dean's throat.
Dean frowned in confusion.
"Sorry. I don't understand English. I can't help," Alpha blurted out in a frankly terrified voice, even his scent, mint and blueberry, filled with sour undertones.
"Wait... what... we were just talking..." he addressed him in a pointless attempt to hold him back, even taking a small half step in his direction.
It only made the old Alpha step back quickly, a look of literal horror on his face. He didn't even bother trying to answer Dean, just quickly ran up the two small steps to the door of his bookstore, ran inside, and not only closed the door behind him. He secured them with a lock, and after one long, apologetic look directly into Dean's eyes, he reached for the blinds and pulled them down as quickly as he could.Dean was left staring rather puzzled at the front of the bookstore and the window that had just gone dark.
"You're in our neighborhood. No one can stand up to a batyushka and his men here," Jacob uttered, standing at his side.
He glanced over at him, expecting a little to see a drawn gun hanging loosely in his hand, or at least a knife, but in reality, Beta just had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his jacket unbuttoned so that a large chunk of his tattooed neck was visible. Nothing more. He just showed his tattoos. That was enough to make the old Alpha... Alpha! He tucked his tail between his legs and hid in fear.
"Will you come with me in peace now?"
"Do I have a choice?" he asked bitterly.
It was obvious that Beta was right. As long as he was in this neighborhood, he wasn't safe, and in fact, he was pretty sure he could get the people here in trouble just by not being seen and not being able to tell where he ran or hid. Regardless... what was the point of running away? Nothing. Just bullshit. Just Omega hysteria. He had to go back for Sam anyway before he tried to leave town, and Alpha's men could wait for him there in peace. The only thing his escape would accomplish was wandering around this fucking huge city for hours, probably getting lost a few times, and eventually ending up right back where he started. He'd have to face his Alpha again sooner or later anyway. He had no choice.
"Look, boy," Beta addressed him, walking up to him and putting both hands on his shoulders. Oddly enough, politely on his shoulder joints, not his scent glands. "It's gonna be all right, okay? The boss is pissed right now, but you can fix it. We'll go back to him, you'll apologize, he'll forgive you, and everything will be fine. What do you say?"
"I don't want to talk to him. Not now."
Though he knew he had no choice, he couldn't and wouldn't look Castiel in the eye at the moment. It didn't matter how much his Omega whined and wanted to follow his Alpha, he was angry with him. For what he'd done to Lisa and for the way he'd acted moments ago. He was angry and... hell yeah, he was scared. A small, cold knot of fear sat in the pit of his stomach only reinforced by the uncertainty of what Castiel might still do if he was still angry.
"Alright," Jacob agreed with a sigh, and took his hands off Dean's shoulders. "I can see why you don't want to see him now. I get it."
"You don't understand anything. You're one of them, and you're a Beta. You don't understand shit."
"Yeah, I guess I don't understand the Alpha/Omega stuff, but I know what it's like to get into a world with rules you don't understand. I understand how you feel."
Dean grinned.
"I don't know what you're trying to do, man, but it won't work. You don't give a shit how I feel, and besides, you don't even like me, so what's your point?"
"I never said I didn't like you," Jacob argued. "Yeah, we got off to a bad start," he held up his left hand to show his fingers, which, though no longer braced, were obviously still stiff, then pointed to his nose, which was still a subtle shade of greenish-yellow. "But... you're a bit like me," he said, to which Dean commented with a smirk; it was hard enough to imagine Jacob starting his career in the Russian mafia as the object of some Alpha's morbid obsession. "I'm not Russian, not the real thing. My parents are Russian immigrants, but I'm already an American. And I've never cared about being who I am and where I am, but when I was just a few years older than you, I did something stupid. I just wanted to go for a ride in a nice car that wasn't mine. Things went a little more fucked up than expected and instead of a year and a half for stealing a car, I got twelve years. It's tough for a young boy in prison. Joining the Bratva literally saved my life."
"Why are you telling me this?" He asked defensively. He didn't care about the pitiful fate of one of Alpha's men. Why did he need to know either? He didn't want to get close to them, because the moment he did, it would mean accepting his fate as a mafia wife, and he didn't want that. Not yet.
"Because I want you to trust me, take this and use it sometime," Jacob replied, reaching into his pocket and handing Dean a business card. "I wrote my private number on it."
He hesitated only briefly before taking the card and turning it over in his hand several times. It belonged to a cleaning agency that promised quick carpet and upholstery cleaning. The business card was completely plain, unremarkable, but since Jacob had just handed it to him, he could expect it to provide other services besides carpet cleaning or be a money launderer or something. On the reverse, underneath the simple sofa printed in brown, was a phone number written in pen and a big 'J' in front of it.
"Why should I trust you?" He looked up from the card.
"And why not? You have to trust someone."
"But not you. You're a criminal of the first category. Hardly someone I should trust."
"You're wrong, kid." Beta shakes her head. "We're not a bunch of thieves, murderers and violent thugs who just happen to go to the same pub. We're so much more than that. We're each other's brother."
"Right!" He snorted. "Thieves' honor..."
"Yeah, something like that. Loyalty, respect and reverence is the only thing that holds together guys who are otherwise capable of anything. That's why your Alpha can't afford to have you question his authority in public, in front of his men. It could cost him his life, and it could cost you yours. That's one of the lessons of living in our world, and I'm giving it to you for free."
"So what? You mean I'm supposed to be a little, obedient Omega, just smile and nod at everything and look pretty? If that's your advice, then thanks." He rolled his eyes in disdain. "I figured that out a long time ago, but I'm just not the type to listen to every knot that asks for something. I'm not going to sit at home and cook and have babies. I'd rather die. If that's what Alpha Novak wants, he's found the wrong Omega."
"I'm not saying you have to be an obedient little Omega, just don't question anything he says or does in public. At home, on the other hand... well, what it looks like beyond the threshold of your household is another matter..." the Beta added, giving a slight smile for the first time since Dean had known him, and his smile even looked sort of... mischievous.
He frowned in incomprehension.
"Our boss may be an Alpha, but he's still Russian and... boy... everyone knows who really wears the pants in a Russian household. And it's definitely not men and Alphas. You can trust me on that."
He blinked in surprise at first as he figured out what Beta was implying, and then figured out the little quip, which Jacob emphasized with a grin and a cock of his eyebrow. And he chuckled a little in amusement and resignation. Then he looked at the card again.
Sure, he didn't trust Beta, but having a contact for someone else in the Brotherhood other than the Alpha couldn't hurt. And some other Russian who could explain all sorts of Russian weirdness to him if he couldn't or wouldn't ask Castiel. After all, actually - he shot a quick glance at Jacob - an ally in the enemy's ranks always came in handy anyway.
"I need to get back to school and pick up my brother," he said, shoving his business card into his pocket as ostentatiously as he could to make sure Beta didn't miss it. However, he also commented on it with a satisfied smile.
"Right. Not a problem. We'll throw you in."
They headed back to the car together.
Notes:
Neblagodarnaya Omega suchka - Ungrateful Omega bitch
Chto ty delayesh', glupyy mal'chik? Razve ty ne mozhesh' smotret' na dorogu?! Ty pochti pobedil menya… - What are you doing, stupid boy?! Can't you see the road?! You almost beat me...
Ya pozabochus' o nem, starik - I'll take care of him, old man
Chapter Text
He looked out of the kitchen window out into the parking lot, lit by the setting sun and streetlights, and of course he saw nothing. The car with Alpha's men was not visible from any of the windows of their room, but if he had gone outside he would surely have seen it standing at the edge of the car park. Fortunately, Sammy didn't go out very often. As much as he would have tried to get him out of the house any other time - you know, fresh air, friends, a little exercise and all that healthy shit - he was happy now that his little brother didn't like being out in the fresh air and hadn't made any friends.
He pulled the curtains closed and turned to Sammy, who was sitting at his desk, writing with one hand and doing something on the computer with the other. He alternated between looking at his work and the screen, frowning in concentration. He was simply in full study mode, which nothing could snap him out of. Dean watched him for a moment before turning away, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a cold beer, which he sat down at the table next to Sam.
He popped the cap and took a small sip.
He didn't really have a taste for beer. It was bitter in his mouth and somehow tightened his throat and stomach, as if he was going to throw even that one sip down the toilet at any moment. Nor did he feel like drinking anything else, or eating, or doing anything else he could do in this damn little room. He couldn't concentrate on anything, not even his beloved B-movie horror movies, his music... shit, he wasn't even in the mood to watch busty Japanese women jerk off while doing it. He wanted... he wanted to go out. Anywhere. Steal a bike somewhere and just ride around the block, but he couldn't even do that.
Alpha Castiel had forbidden him to leave the motel room, only of course he hadn't bothered to tell him his ban in person or at least over chat. He figured he was further grounded by the fact that he'd tried to go to the bar for a beer and some darts last night after that stupid argument at the Virgin, and just as he poked his nose out the door, Yuri was already out of the Toyota at the edge of the parking lot. It was just enough for him to figure it out and go back to his room. He doubted today would be much better.
He grabbed the loose label on the bottle and pulled. The paper was tearing, of course, because it was soaked from the dewed beer, but that didn't stop him from trying to peel the label all the way off. He needed to put his nervous energy into something and his desire to pick himself up and run after Castiel, like the poor needy Omega he wasn't and didn't want to be. This shit wasn't his fault. Alpha was the one who was being a shit. Alpha lied and cheated. Alpha almost beat him up. Castiel was to blame for everything... except for the little thing that wasn't true.
He still hadn't forgiven him for what he'd done to Lisa's parents, and so had Lisa, but when he'd had time to let it all sink in, he had to admit that he understood Alpha's point. If mob movies had taught him anything, it was that the big Alpha boss... the powerful Don... had to be respected. And he had to earn and keep that respect by being uncompromising and sometimes cruel. He killed the Alpha from the arcade for respect, and while he could let Lisa live, he couldn't let her go unpunished or he'd lose respect. Likewise, he figured that a raging Omega snarling at him in public was something that definitely undermined Alpha's respect. So yeah, he made the mistake of running into Doll and being rude to Alpha in front of his men. It was a bad, bad idea and now he knew it.
He picked up the bottle, and it left a wet circle behind. He moved it a little further and made another lap. And another.
He should have left his anger and remorse - how did Jacob put it - on the doorstep. Not that he and Castiel had a home, or ever could, but he got the point. In public, he should treat the Alpha with the utmost respect and humility, just be a well-mannered, submissive Omega who smiled prettily and nodded at everything. In private, then... in private, he could be himself. That is, what everyone said he was and what he stood for and what Alpha actually liked; a brash, rude troublemaker who was a hell of a long way from being a proper Omega.
Could he handle it? Yeah, he certainly could. He could be a good, obedient Omega, roll his eyes, stick his neck out and look silly and innocent. He was actually perfect at it, he just... couldn't stand to be like that all the time. But if the Alpha didn't want him to do it all the time, he could give it to him.
He took one long swig of his beer and set the glass down resolutely on the table.
"I'm going out, and I don't know when I'll be back," he said as he stood up and took his jacket off the chair he was sitting on.
Sam looked up from the computer and his nostrils flared as he sucked in air, whereupon he frowned a little.
"Going to see that Alpha again?" He asked; Dean paused a little. "You smell different when you talk about him."
"Yeah, I'm going to see him."
The little Alpha gave him a long, unreadable look before lowering his head again to the notepad he was writing in.
"Well, give him my regards," he said neutrally, and that seemed to be the end of it.
Dean waited a moment longer to see if Sammy would say anything else, because he had definitely looked like he wanted to say something earlier, but since he remained silent and continued writing, he let it go.
He zipped up his jacket, checked that he had his wallet and motel key, and then headed for the door.
°°0°°
"Are we really here right?" He asked incredulously.
He and Jacob were standing in front of an older office building. All metal, stone, and glass, and through the large double doors with semi-matte glass they could see inside to a smaller lobby, a reception area on the left side, and a series of elevators on the right. It didn't look like there might be a club here, although - he looked at his phone - google maps said that Blue Sky was at this exact address.
Jacob smiled in amusement.
"Discreet clubs are always in strange places," Beta pointed out, pressing a button on the panel next to the door. In addition to the 'guest' button, which Jacob used to get the attention of the guard behind the front desk, who buzzed the door open, the panel had a magnetic card slot and buttons for entering a code.
Jacob opened the door for him.
"Sign in at the front desk while I call upstairs to have someone sent for you," he said, motioning Dean inside with his hand.
He frowned at the security guard standing behind the counter. He didn't really want to go in, and it wasn't because he was about to be confronted by Castiel. He just didn't like this weird shit, like the chip cards, the front desk, the security guards, the signing in of guests and all. He didn't feel good about it.
"Why don't you take me?" He asked, not because he trusted Jacob, perhaps, but at least he knew him.
"We're under orders to stay downstairs and wait."
An order. Right. That meant it didn't matter what he said or did, Alpha's men would just stay down in the car even if frogs were falling from the sky. So he didn't try to argue, he walked through the door and headed straight for reception.
The beta behind the counter measured him from head to toe.
"Good evening. Name and who are you seeing?" He said curtly, no great formality.
"Um... Dean Winchester," he used his real name, so he wouldn't get in trouble if the Alpha had already reported him here. "And I'm going to Blue Sky."
The guard gave him a very suspicious look and looked him over again in a way he knew all too well. While he couldn't know he was Dean Omega, he couldn't overlook the outfit that was more suited for someone applying for a janitorial position here, certainly not for the average Blue Sky guest. At least as far as he could tell from the pictures he'd seen.
"I'm going to see Alpha Novak."
It seemed to not only make sense to the security guard, it actually amused him, and with a small grin twitching his cheeks, he placed the iPad and a tiny plastic pencil like thing in front of Dean so he wouldn't have to torture himself trying to sign his finger.
He produced the signature as legibly as he could and handed everything back to the guard. He checked his scrawl with one quick glance.
"I suppose someone will come for you..."
"Yeah... yeah."
"Okay," was the only curt reply he got, then the guard sat back down in his seat and seemed to pay him minimal attention. At most a glance here and there.
Dean looked around.
The hall had a marble floor and paneling about Dean's height. There were elevators right across from the reception desk. To their right was a plaque with bronze signs with the names of the companies that were located here, including Blue Sky, which was all the way up near the top floor. Between the elevators, a bronze molding of some indeterminate shape hung on the wall. He tilted his head to one side and the other and still couldn't figure out what the image was supposed to represent. The closest thing it resembled was a cliff being hit by water, but it wasn't exactly that. Curiously, he moved closer to look at yet another angle, from below, but it still didn't look like anything real. Just crumpled metal.
Hmm, was it really sheet metal or was it more thick and heavy as it looked at first glance?
He reached out to touch the bronze painting when one of the elevators dinged, the doors opened, and a tall, damn beautiful Beta walked into the lobby in a pantsuit that, while it didn't show a bit of extra skin, was so well-fitted that it flattered every perfect curve of her body. She had nice, medium sized breasts, a narrow waist accentuated by the one buttoned jacket button, and a totally awesome ass. Her eyes were light brown, wide and large looking out from a round face with large lips painted pink. The only thing that wasn't pretty was the tight bun in which her softly reddened hair was coiled. He always liked it better when girls had their hair down, like Lisa wore.
"Good evening. Mr. Winchester?" he asked with a slight accent similar to all of Alpha's men and Castiel himself.
"Dean... just Dean... Mr. Winchester is my dad," he replied with a smile, stepping closer so he could smell her scent. He expected it to be faint, but nice, because someone so beautiful had to have a nice scent, Beta, Alpha or Omega, only when he inhaled he smelled nothing. Not even a hint of a distinctive scent, just the neutral smell of freshly cleaned clothes at the dry cleaners and a hint of cosmetics and a mix of alcohol scents he wouldn't normally notice over natural body odor. It was almost as if she had literally bathed in odor blockers.
Fuck!
Only now did he realize that he had used the blockers for the last time this morning, like he did every day when he went to school, and he hadn't even thought to use them again. And now he was going to walk into a club full of Alphas without his Omega scent being even slightly muted. When he considered what Blue Sky was, he realized with painful clarity what a stupid thing he'd done. He might as well have pinned a red hadr on his ass that said 'free fuck hole'.
"'Alright. Dean," Beta smiled sweetly. "I'm Athena and I'm here to take you to see Mr. Novak. Please follow me."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, but... hey, could you go back and tell Alpha Novak if he'd come in person?" He asked hopefully. If he was right by Castiel's side, he was sure he wouldn't get hurt no matter how intense and delicious he smelled. The alpha had already made it clear enough that he would kill anyone who touched Dean, which was something he definitely appreciated at this point.
"Mr. Novak is expecting you. I have orders to bring you to him," she repeated with the same sweet smile that was starting to look a bit mechanical. Even the way she spoke was as if she was repeating it like a robot or had rehearsed it beforehand. Maybe she didn't even understand what he was saying properly.
"I'm an Omega and I don't have any scent blockers with me. I can't go to a club full of Alphas," he tried to explain what he meant.
The smile never left the woman's face, but the way she looked towards the glass door seemed a little... well, nervous to say the least. He looked in the same direction and saw Jacob staring directly at the Beta female with a hard expression on his face. It seemed to scare her, which wasn't too strange. Alpha's men could be scary and as Dean had found out yesterday, the Russians, at least in the quarter where Doll was, not only had respect for Alpha and his men, they were afraid of them and all they had to do was show their tattoos. This waitress or hostess or whatever she was, she was probably in a similar boat.
"Please come with me," she repeated again in a strained voice, but still with that stiff smile.
He slid his gaze between the betas several times, measuring each other with his eyes.
Holy shit... what could have happened, anyway? Alpha was waiting for him at the club, wasn't he? He wouldn't let anyone touch Dean. Plus, Castiel was a damn scary and dominant Alpha who the other Alphas were surely wary of and wouldn't want to pit him against each other, whether they knew about his 'bussnis' or not. Once he'd made it clear that Dean belonged to him, they'd stay away.
"Okay, fine. Lead the way," he finally agreed, nodding his head towards the elevator.
Beta was visibly relieved.
She turned to head back to the elevator. Dean tilted his head to the side a little, overlooking her nice ass, then followed her into the cab. The variety of smells, but more importantly, their quantity and freshness told him that the elevator was heavily used. Just a normal elevator in a mall or something, only it had probably been sprayed with odor suppressant sprays more often because the smells weren't stale and soaked into the old wood paneling.
The beautiful Beta pulled a chip card from her pocket and pressed it against the slot on the control panel. The buttons of the top two floors lit up briefly and Beta pressed the second to last one.
The elevator started to move and Dean, trying to push away his nervousness, wondered what could possibly be on the top floor. Some part of the club that the Alpha wouldn't show him? Or even a full-fledged mafia lair? Or maybe a illegal gambling den... yeah, there definitely could have been an illegal gambling den. Oh, or a huge vault full of guns and diamonds.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened smoothly.
Half expecting to hear music or see the interior of Blue Sky immediately, what he didn't expect was a quiet, white corridor bathed in intense light and almost devoid of smells. He detected some Alpha musk as he concentrated hard and sniffed hard, but it was faint, as if the Alphas had just passed through and weren't even lingering. And that's probably what it was. They were probably walking towards the single, plain looking, white door with a card slot next to it.
Taking a step towards the door, the Beta oddly enough headed the other way.
Confused, he followed her to the other door, which he hadn't noticed before because it was on the same side as the elevator and led to a staircase. They ascended it only half a floor, through another door into a short corridor that gave him the impression of a passageway. And then, finally, Beta opened the last door and Dean was flooded with pleasant mood music, dim orange lights and a mixture of decidedly Alpha smells, but they weren't as strong as he'd expected. Probably due to the very good air conditioning and probably the modern air purifiers that gave the air a subtle ozone tinge.
Atha, or whatever her name was, didn't look like she was planning on coming in. She held the door open for him and waited patiently.
"Thanks," he said as he passed her.
She gave him the same learned smile, which was briefly all he saw before his eyes adjusted to the club's darkness and strange lighting. Then he looked around. He'd definitely been to Blue Sky, but none of the places captured in the photos.
He was on the balcony, high above the club itself. There was a good view not only of the bar where the Alphas were sitting and the bartender was hovering behind, but also of most of the rest of the place. Or so it seemed. He averted his gaze from the view and looked first and foremost at the floor covered in a thick, high, black carpet that gave him a strange, uncertain feeling. It was so damn soft it was like sinking into mud.
He lifted his head and focused on the single orange sofa standing against the wall, surrounded by a low table, two chairs, and what looked like a small, private bar on one side.
The alpha sat in the middle of the sofa and... he wasn't alone.
Dean frowned.
Another man sat at Castiel's side. It certainly wasn't Alpha, because in the thin mixture of scents rising from the club spread out below the balcony, only Alpha's heavy cherry scent with a hint of bitter almonds stood out. There was no other scent so specific and intense. So no, it definitely wasn't Alpha, but Dean hated it immediately anyway.
The Beta - he hoped he was just a Beta and not an Omega - was about the same age as the Alpha, slender and even in the dim light of the bar he could tell he was handsome. Well, handsome for his age, and for the fact that Dean didn't like guys... well, any guy except his Alpha and a few other good-smelling Alphas, but... he was just handsome. Damn handsome. And he was literally stuck to Castiel's side like some kind of disgusting jellyfish. He even had one hand on Alpha's knee. And Alpha, absorbed in his cell phone, tolerated being touched.
Who the fuck was that? Why was he here? How dare he touch Dean's Alpha! Alpha was his. My, my, my, his Omega growled its silent mantra, biting and pricking its teeth, and Dean felt the corners of his mouth lift in a silent snarl, even though he'd come here determined to stay calm and not piss Alpha off again.
Oddly enough, it was the damn Beta who noticed him first. Their gazes met, the corners of Beta's lips lifted in a smirk, and Dean bared his teeth. This clearly amused Beta. Not only did he smile in a pleased manner, he also slid his gaze over Dean's body as if assessing it.
At that moment, Castiel's head lifted sharply as well, his gorgeous blue eyes fixed directly on him. He could palpably feel his gaze, but he couldn't tear himself away from Beta, whose balls he vividly imagined being cut off and stuffed into a blender. As punishment for allowing himself to touch Alpha.
Clenching his hands into fists, he covered the distance to the sofa in a few quick strides and stood up belligerently over the coffee table.
"Hey, you...! Who are you?" he snapped at Beta, his voice full of swallowed growls, and yeah, he knew damn well he might be doing something stupid and rude to piss Alpha off again, but damn! The Beta was touching his Alpha and he was... something just told him that he wasn't just one of Castiel's men or a friend from the bar. Alpha was fucking that Beta. Sometimes before, or maybe now recently, they'd just slept together sometimes.
"Looks like it's time for me to go check the bar," Beta said towards Castiel, his French accent audible even over the music. Then he rose gracefully, like he was some fucking cat or something, and started for the door with an easy, oddly swinging, graceful stride, completely missing Dean in the process, like he wasn't even there. Or like he was just a stupid Omega who didn't need to be greeted, or answer a question, or even just look at her.
"I said; hey, you...!" He addressed him a second time.
Beta turned and gave him a scornful look.
"Yes, you did. Twice. Congratulations," he replied mockingly.
Dean growled.
"Balthazar," Castiel addressed Beta. "This is Dean. My Omega. What did I tell you about him? Be nice."
"I'm always nice. I'm literally kindness incarnate," Beta replied in a way that Dean didn't like one bit, but Castiel, oddly enough, didn't mind. He just gave Beta... that Balthazar... one of his telling looks, under which Beta bowed his head in a surprisingly good gesture of submission.
"I should probably introduce myself," Beta turned to him with much more politeness, extending his hand. "Sebastian Roché, but everyone calls me Balthazar."
He didn't even glance at the proffered hand, let alone plan to take it. He hadn't the slightest desire to get to know this guy. All he wanted was to get the hell out and never go near his Alpha again.
"Nice to meet you, and now you can go, Napoleon," he spat through lips quivering with the effort of not growling again.
"Napoleon wasn't really French, he was Corsican. You should pay more attention in history class," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone that didn't really sound like mockery, but Dean was sure this Frenchman was mocking him. "If you need me..." he trailed off as he slowly turned to Castiel, "I'll be downstairs in my usual spot."
He sent Beta off with a dark look, even turning his whole body to follow him, and consistently waited until the door closed behind him to make sure he was gone before he - barely suppressing another growl and all the absurd jealousy boiling in his stomach like hot lava - turned to Alpha.
Castiel had already managed to get up and was in the process of setting his empty bourbon glass down on the coffee table, an unreadable expression on his face as he did so. There was no hint of the enthusiasm he'd seen yesterday, or indeed on all the occasions they'd come face to face, and if his scent had changed in any way, it wasn't significant enough for the change, good or bad, to assert itself against the quality air purifier that must have been running full blast in the bar.
"Are you fucking him?" Dean's mouth fell open before he could stop himself, and holy shit! It wasn't what he wanted to say. He'd come here to apologize or just patch things up between him and Cas, not to do stupid shit to piss Alpha off again.
Castiel stopped mid-step and cocked his head slightly to the side, eyes squinting a little. He remained still for a moment before straightening and lifting his chin.
"Sometimes," he replied, as if it were nothing.
Dean gritted his teeth.
"Today?" He limited himself to one word, because that was the only way he could ask without sounding like the hysterical, jealous Omega bitch he wasn't. Hell no... except he probably was. Everything was boiling inside him. And he had a hundred urges to find the tiny Napoleon - Oh come on, Winchester, he was as tall as you - and break his nose.
"No," the Alpha replied calmly. "Is that why you came here? To attack and accuse me again? If so, there's the door." He nodded his head towards the exit. "I'm in no mood to deal with your outbursts," he added, turning around and it was clear he was going to go sit back down on the couch.
The searingly jealous rage subsided as quickly as it had flared, replaced by the stupid sense of anxiety he'd recognized yesterday at the Dollhouse when he'd sat on the floor like a pious man and the Alpha had walked away from him, making him feel rejected, maybe even rejected. He knew how stupid it felt and he didn't want to humiliate himself, but it was so hard to fight.
"No!" He blurted out, taking several desperate steps towards Alpha, who stopped but didn't turn around when he called out to him. "That's not why I'm here. I wanted to... I understand your point and the situation you're in and all that. I understand that you can't show weakness and lose respect. I got it, all right. And I... I'm sorry about yesterday. I will never act so stupid and rude in public again. I can act like an obedient Omega, I just..." he paused, because here came the most important point. He was going to admit that he could pretend to be a proper Omega, but he couldn't be one. If Alpha didn't accept that... if he didn't want to... if he was actually misreading all those situations where he was being a sassy brat and Alpha liked it... then it was all pretty fucked up.
"Just what?" the alpha asked, turning just enough for their gazes to meet.
"I'm not like that," he finished with a sigh. "I can pretend, but I'm not like that."
There, it was out and he was beautifully relieved. This was what he'd come here with. This was what he wanted to tell Alpha, and now all he had to do was wait for shit or understanding. And that it was an interminable wait before Castiel turned and looked him in the eye.
"I could have a dozen Omegas wanting to kiss my feet and ass on every finger. I've never been interested in one of those. I want a Mate who can take care of himself and our pups. Someone with a real personality, opinions and thoughts of their own, who will be a true partner to me. You're all of those things, but..." slowly, as he spoke, he made his way over to Dean, "you need to learn when you can contradict me and when you need to show me the proper respect." He stood in front of him and paused, his gaze firm but not cold, a gaze under which Dean had no need to show his neck. They remained staring at each other at close range for several heartbeats before Castiel's shoulders slumped a little, his expression softening enough to be clearly visible even in the darkness of the club, and he held up a hand. His large, warm palm rested on his jaw and his thumb rested on his chin, even lightly touching his bottom lip. He couldn't help but open his mouth with a sigh.
"I don't want to punish you, Dean. It hurts me as much as it hurts you, but I'll do what I have to. That's the way it is in our world."
"I know... hell, I know..." He ducked his head to get out of the gentle grip of Castiel's hand that made him nervous and quite difficult to speak. His gaze wandered as he did so to a comfortable-looking sofa filled with black and orange cushions and a low table made of black glass. He raised his eyes back to Alpha. "I'm figuring out where my place is and all that. I'm supposed to look like a handsome Omega husband and I will, okay? I'll act like it, just don't make me sit at home and cook and give you a bunch of babies and do nothing else. I'd rather die than do that. Seriously... it would kill me, so why put myself through the misery? If you ever want an Omega like that, you better shoot me in the head. Can you?" he asked, expecting an eye roll and a grunt of something about melodrama rather than any real answer.
Of course Cas didn't say anything like that he didn't even flinch because he was a goddamn puzzler. One moment he was the most stereotypical asshole and the next he could surprise with his behavior.
"If I ever want an Omega like that, I'd rather shoot myself."
He chuckled briefly and bitterly, not knowing what to say.
"I'm serious, Dean," Castiel responded to his seeming mockery with a small edge in his voice. "I have enough sycophants around me who will always agree with me. I like it when you tell me what you really think. I'll never punish you for being truthful and honest, you just have to save your honesty for an appropriate time. It's best when we're alone. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah... yeah, I understand that," he agreed, averting his gaze. "I'll try to act a little... better when people are around. Okay?"
"Okay. That's all I ask of you."
He felt strange and uncomfortable. For a good two minutes they'd been spouting pathetic shit about their relationship that didn't really exist. They weren't dating or anything, it was just... He looked up from the carpet, where he'd lowered his gaze so he wouldn't have to look at Alpha. And yet, he did look up into Castiel's face.
He had one of those cute expressions where he tilted his head to the side a little, eyes squinted and lips slightly parted almost in invitation to a kiss. He looked like the epitome of a question. Like he was genuinely curious about Dean's opinion, his thoughts, and... yeah, even the fucking feelings that were just gathering in his stomach like a hot, heavy rock. Dean felt wanted under that gaze, which was something he didn't want to think about right now. He decided to fixate on the fact that Casiel didn't seem to be angry anymore, and that satisfied his inner Omega.
Obeying her whispers and urges, he bridged the small distance that separated him from the Alpha, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling into his slightly chapped lips, lined with a day's worth of stubble that stung his cheek. Alpha, of course, didn't hesitate for a moment. One hand went into the hair at the nape of his neck and the other wrapped low around his waist until it was almost touching Dean's ass.
He pressed closer, but didn't deepen the kiss. He pulled away from him, ran his nose over Alpha's jaw, and then buried his face in the crook of his neck. Castiel growled in sympathy but satisfaction, stretching his neck, not only giving Dean more space but also brushing against his forehead. He could feel the wetness on his skin, and even his nose picked up the heavy, sweet scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds as it gained intensity and mingled with his own growing scent.
Shit... it was bliss.
He pulled away slightly, just enough to rest his chin on Castiel's shoulder and let his hands wander up Castiel's back. The fine shirt slid under his fingers. He opened his eyes... he didn't know when he closed them... and his gaze lingered on the sofa. Suddenly he realized what he was doing; he was making out with Castiel. This was not something he had planned. He'd never been much of a cuddler, not even with his dad. The only exception was his little brother. That one he could hold in his arms all night long even now that he wasn't a little puppy anymore. It made them both feel safe. With the others, he made do with a firm but quick hug or an arm thrown around their shoulders. He did that often, but cuddling... He was an Omega, but he didn't need comfortable places and cuddling to be content, like they always talked about in silly romance movies.
Embarrassment overcame him, and he pulled away as far as the tight grip of the Alpha's arms would allow.
The blue eyes he looked into were darker than usual in the local light, and there were shadows on Castiel's face that gave him some sort of grandeur or something. He was just prettier than usual. Or maybe it was the fact that his eyes were contentedly squinted, his lips curled into a small, soft smile, and all tension gone from his features.
Dean's embarrassment deepened. He averted his gaze and carefully removed Alpha's hands from his hips. Castiel didn't protest, not with words, but he radiated question along with a little displeasure. He tried not to look at him and instead turned to look at the club spread out below them.
"So... um... this is Blue Sky...?" He asked in an attempt to change the subject. They'd already talked enough about what had happened in the last few days and to be honest, he'd rather forget about it. He also wanted to forget that he was just being a clingy Omega who needed to cuddle with his Alpha. So he took advantage of the fact that his Alpha was no longer holding him and put a safe distance between them by walking over to the balcony railing.
"Obviously," Castiel replied, slowly making his way over to him.
Dean clasped both hands against the cool metal of the railing as he watched out of the corner of his eye as Alpha leaned sideways against the same metal bar his hands were resting on. He purposely didn't look at Castiel, instead looking down to get a better look at the interior of the club. Orange and black sofas and chairs stood on orange and black carpets, and these in turn were laid on the floor, which had a hexagonal pattern made up of different shades of orange tiles. The bar was beautifully lit, the bartender was dressed in a smart jacket as were the waitresses. It all looked luxurious and expensive and incredibly uncomfortable. Blue Sky was a bar, and in Dean's opinion, a bar was where you should have fun. He should be getting a few licks in, throwing darts and playing pool, listening to music and watching a sports game on TV, not having to behave. And that all the guests maintained decorum. They sat in nice spaced out orderly fashion, as Alpha e was wont to do, all sipping discreetly from their drinks, smiling and chatting so quietly and politely that the murmur of their voices was really just a murmur.
God... it looked fucking boring. Definitely not the 'Alpha Club' he'd imagined. There was nothing here to suggest that an orgy with some stoned Omega was about to break out at any moment. Dude, no one was even snorting coke or swallowing any happy pills.
"What do you think of it?" Castiel asked, moving closer so he could smell him and also put his hand on the back of his head.
His Omega growled softly and he instinctively leaned into the hand that pressed firmly, but gently this time, against the back of his neck, and for a small but pleasurable moment he savored the heavy feeling that came down his spine every time the Alpha's thumb circled Dean's hair.
He licked his lips.
"The truth?"
"Always."
"This place looks boring."
The movement of his fingers on the back of his neck stopped.
"Boring?" Castiel asked in surprise.
"Yeah, boring. Boring music, boring people..." The words died on his tongue as his eyes fell onBeta ... the Balthazar (for God's sake, why did everyone around Alpha have such weird names?) who was sitting on the edge of the bar, holding a tall glass of some colorful drink and looking over Blue Sky like he owned the place. He felt like growling again, but swallowed it.
"I'm not bored here," Alpha pointed out; Dean turned to him with a questioning expression. "I'm watching the scene. That's what I enjoy."
He couldn't help a chuckle, this one genuinely amused, which earned him a look of incomprehension.
"You really do have to go through all the Alpha stereotypes, don't you?"
"Alpha stereotypes?" Castiel didn't understand, even tilting his head to the side.
He laughed a second time, leaning in a little until his hip was resting against his leg.
"Overbearing, possessive, jealous, obsessed with control and his territory... does that remind you of anyone?" He looked at Alpha coquettishly through his lashes, smiling as he did so. Yeah, a tiny worm of insecurity brought him back to everything bad about the last few days, whispering that maybe it was too soon for this kind of teasing, but the way Castiel's corners twitched in a smile and his thumb ran up Dean's neck again put him at ease.
"Maybe a little..." he admitted in an amused tone. "Maybe I created this whole place to satisfy some of my Alpha's needs. And I also wanted somewhere quiet to spend my evenings, but not have to talk to too many people at the same time. I don't think it's too... eccentric to really be worth mentioning. "
Dean frowned slightly.
"Did you create Blue Sky just for your own amusement?" He asked. He found it quite unbelievable that someone would start an entire bar just to have a place to drink. Sure, people started pubs for fun, but it was also their livelihood. The Blue Sky was obviously not Castiel's real livelihood.
"I didn't start a bar as such. It was already there. I rebuilt it to my liking and made it a private place for Alphas where Betas and Omegas are banned."
"You mean no one but Alphas are allowed in here?" He asked; Castiel nodded slightly. "Like ever?"
"Yes."
"Why? What's the point of such an undertaking?"
"It's for Alphas who want to spend time with other Alphas without being bothered by the smells of Betas and Omegas."
"Are they like that?" He made no secret of his genuine skepticism. What Alpha wouldn't want to bury his nose in a scented Omega gland.
"What do you think...?" Castiel raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly towards the locale.
He quickly ran his gaze over all the guests. The bar wasn't exactly crowded, but the waitresses were always busy, and as far as he could guess, this place was too upscale to squeeze in. So yeah, it was probably quite a success, but he still didn't believe that Alphas didn't come here for some serious entertainment. That meant the Omegas.
"But you do throw parties here, don't you?"
The alpha gave him a questioning look.
"You know... entertainment for Alphas, the kind that's normal in clubs like this. They bring in some Omegas to... you know... to please the Alphas in every way..." As Castiel's expression remained impassive, Dean rolled his eyes, trying hard to ignore the twinge of embarrassment as he decided to explain more clearly and less politely. "I mean parties where Alphas fuck Omegas. Do you get it now? You have to know that, given that criminal career, don't you?"
"Of course I know similar... parties," he replied without blinking. "I was just wondering what wasn't clear to you when I said that Omegas were banned from here."
"Yeah, normal Omegas, but..."
"You're the first and only Omega to enter here in the last three years."
It took him a moment to get the full meaning of Castiel's words. And as soon as it did, his lizard brain, which housed all Omega instincts sent out the most confusing and almost frightening feeling of excitement. He was in a confined space, not with one or two Alphas, but with dozens of Alphas. He was the only Omega for miles around and they were all of childbearing age and would certainly be interested in Dean. He'd bet that if he came down there all of them, literally every single one of them, would immediately drop everything he was doing, turn on him and start sniffing him. They'd pay vigilant, almost hunting attention to his every move. It was terrifying. And exciting.
Other times he wouldn't have even considered this. It was dangerous to let his thoughts run that way. He wasn't an Omega who wanted to give himself over to the first knot he came across, and he certainly didn't want to encourage that part of Omega biology and mentality in any way. But this time, his thoughts ran unconsciously and he didn't stop them. Perhaps it was the stress of the last few days, but far more likely it was the fact that Castiel... his Alpha... was right by his side, so it was safe to think about, for example, that blonde Alpha in the light blue short dress that had just walked by the bar. He could indulge himself in fantasies of her wet pussy and how her cock would move if she ravished him. He'd seen a few videos like that... well more than a few... hell, he'd seen quite a few...
He felt a warm breeze on the back of his neck and heard the sound of sniffing.
"You're horny..." said Alpha, and it wasn't a question. It was a statement. At the same time, Alpha slowly moved behind his back, trapping him between his arms as he rested his hands on the iron bar on either side of Dean's body.
"No!" he denied loudly, instantly cursing himself as his voice broke and the one word sounded only like a desperate yelp.
"Does it excite you that there are so many Alphas and you're the only Omega here?"
Damn it. Why did the Alpha always have to know when he was lying? And how could he read his mind?! That was so annoying. He gripped the railing and resisted the urge to lean into the warmth of the chest pressed against his back.
"No..." he denied again, less explosively and much more quietly, so that he even managed to keep his voice steady.
The alpha gave a soft warning growl.
"Don't lie to me..."
"I don't want you to kill anyone again if I tell you the truth."
"Are you planning on leaving with any of these Alphas?" He surprised him with a nonsensical question.
"Of course not!" He snapped, a little more vehemently than he had to. No matter how many Alphas he'd flirted with in his life, he would never go to his house or, after all, anywhere private with one. He wasn't a complete fool and he liked his ass the way it was; unused.
"Are you planning on going down there?"
"You think I'm an idiot?"
"Yes or no?" He growled.
"No..."
"Then I have no reason to kill anyone," the Alpha said with a small growl in his voice, placing a hand on Dean's stomach. "If it's just fantasies," his hand slid down to the edge of his shirt and then underneath it to the bare skin of his stomach. It was large and warm, yet the muscles of Dean's stomach tensed and rippled under the touch, so gentle was the touch. "You can tell me about it. I want to hear about it..."
He looked back, certain he could see the coldness preceding the rage in Castiel's eyes. That his face would be full of sharp angles, his lips drawn into a stern line. He expected his scent to turn bitter at any moment. And that this was all some sort of trap to test Dean's loyalty or some such sneaky shit, but the Alpha didn't look angry at all. He didn't even smell of suppressed anger. Oh no, he smelled sweet with a musky hint of incipient arousal, his eyes were contentedly squinted and he actually looked like he might start growling at any moment.
He was confused.
"You killed a guy just because I had a conversation with him, and now I'm supposed to tell you I want one of those Alphas down there?"
"Do you?" he asked, looking oddly calm.
He pursed his lips, fixed Castiel with a hard stare and refused to answer, because this had to be a trap. If his desire was to get Dean to say he liked an Alpha from the club and then kill him, he certainly couldn't count on Dean's cooperation. He wasn't going to get caught.
Castiel let out a small sigh, his satisfied expression turning slightly annoyed.
"No matter how you answer me, I'm not going to kill anyone or punish you," he said, his voice not as sweetly deep as the one he'd used earlier when he'd asked if he wanted an Alpha down there. "Right here and now... you're mine and you're with me. And we both know that none of those Alphas down there can come near you, but we can imagine that they can."
He blinked in surprise.
"I'll never let anyone touch you, Dean," he continued, this time with a small growl in his voice, lifting his hand from the railing to wrap his fingers around the back of his neck, "and I can't stand it when you pander to anyone, but... " he ran his thumb over his neck; Dean's pulse quickened and the Alpha grunted, as he could certainly feel it under the belly of his finger, "I like the way other Alphas look at you. The fact that they want you and I can tell them you're mine. And it turns me on to think that I have to fight for you..." With a slight tug, he forced Dean to turn his head and fix his eyes back on the bustle below the balcony, and also made him lower it a little so he could bury his nose in the back of his head. "It's just going to be a game, Omega. Come play with me. I can smell..." he sucked in air in a way that sent a shiver down Dean's spine, "that you want to play."
"Yeah... okay..." he breathed, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, his thoughts slowly starting to lose clarity. It was both Castiel's heavy scent, now completely thick with the musky smell of Alpha arousal, and the fact that his blood was going to slightly different places than his brain. His cock was already hard, and when Alpha pressed up against it from behind to press his own hard length against his ass, it met the cold metal of the railing. Dean bit his lip. It was uncomfortable and pleasurable at the same time.
"I knew I'd never be bored with you," the Alpha remarked with a laugh in his voice, moving his hand, hitherto busy stroking Dean's neck, a little lower to the slight bulge of his left breast. Like the first time, Castiel seemed fascinated by the vague softness as he cupped the small mound of fat, kneaded it, and ran his thumb over the hard nipple that was rubbing against Dean's Guns N' Roses logo t-shirt.
He exhaled sharply.
"Now tell me..." the Alpha breathed in his ear, "would you like to go down there with all those Alphas?"
"I..." he began, his voice wavering because it was quite hard to concentrate as he rubbed his nipple while finally running his fingers over the bare skin above the edge of his pants. What was the right answer? He looked down at the Alphas and remembered the feeling of arousal at the idea of being watched. "Yeah... I'd like that."
Alpha growled. There was a ferocity to it, perhaps even a bit of anger, but he didn't falter for a moment in stroking Dean's body, his scent still just as aroused. It was the right answer. This was what Castiel wanted to hear, but it also made him angry. If he'd been a little clearer headed he would have thought about this strange contradiction.
"They'd be looking at you. They would undress you with their eyes. They would suck in your scent. Would you like that?"
"Yeah..." he agreed, and God yes... damn, he imagined it like before, but in even more detail.
"They'd do more," Castiel continued, his hand moving from her stomach and right between Dean's legs, but he didn't press. Not like the first time he'd touched him there. Just a light, pleasant kneading, and Dean instinctively began to rock into that warm touch. "They'd like to touch. First one, then another, and another. They'd grab you..." He let go of his breast and stroked the almost almost aching nipple and grabbed the back of Dean's head again. "They'd knock you down on one of the couches and hold you down," as he spoke he forced him to bend over even more with a slight pressure, "while they ripped your clothes off to get at your wet hole. Are you wet, Dean?"
"Yeah... geez, yeah..."
He was fucking sure that his juices had soaked through not just his briefs but his jeans, and Castiel must have felt the damp spot he was resting his big, hard cock in. There was no fucking way he couldn't feel it. And for him not to notice the smell of wet, aroused Omega all around him.
"Of course you are. I can smell it," the Alpha growled, his nimble fingers quickly unbuttoning Dean's jeans.
At that moment, the thought flashed through his mind that someone might see them. Someone could have come or... fuck... Some of the Alphas down there could have seen Castiel almost fucking him bent over the railing. For a small moment, he gathered enough rational thought that he tried to reach down to stop the Alpha, only to be prevented by the railing.
"Uhm... wait..."
He didn't wait. He might not have even heard him over his own growls, the music and the commotion down in the club. Alpha simply reached into Dean's briefs and pulled his heavy, hot cock out into the cool air. One quick slide of his large hand over the sensitive skin was enough to elicit a low moan from his throat and thoughts of protest and shame crumbled like a sand castle. He was vaguely aware of Castiel letting go of his cock, and the sound of spitting... so fucking shameless... and then he felt nothing but a firm, wet grip on his cock.
He ducked his head and leaned back into the hand gripping the back of his head.
"You're so wet you could easily take all those Alphas, am I right?"
He shook his head as much as his grip and odd position would allow. No fucking way, and not just because no fucking Omega could hold so many Alphas, he himself rather couldn't. Mostly he wouldn't allow it. Not without a fight. He'd fight to his last breath and he wanted his Alpha to know it.
"No... I'd fight... fight..." he gasped as Cas's hand slowly ran over his cock in just the right way, "until... " this time he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan and not draw unnecessary attention to himself in case someone from below might happen to hear, see or smell them, "until you came for me," he sucked out what he wanted to say and heard a rumbling growl of enthusiastic approval and belligerence behind him and knew... fuck... this was exactly what the Alpha wanted to hear. And fuck, Dean was so pleased he'd made his Alpha happy.
"Din... moy..." the Alpha purred in his ear, speeding up his thrusts.
He met them while grinding his ass harder and harder against the hard bulge pressing against him. Alpha was breathing hotly on the back of his head, hearing him make sounds that could have been growls and words and... fuck. The grip on the back of his head tightened, just a little, but it was that last impulse that made him come hard as he gritted his teeth desperately to stay quiet.
It was clear to him that his orgasm must have lasted only a moment, but when he finally opened his eyes and relaxed his jaws, he felt like he'd been straining both for hours. His breath was a little tight in his throat, he could taste the iron taste in his mouth as he probably bit down, and he could feel his legs getting supple, but otherwise he felt great. And he felt even better when he realized that Castiel was no longer holding the back of his head, but was wrapping his arms around his waist and, along with the railing, keeping him upright.
He turned his head a little, enough to brush the top of his own head against Alpha's neck in a silent plea for another marking. And Cas obliged him.
He marked it with his scent, but in a sort of... distracted way.
Dean turned even more to follow what had so caught Alpha's attention that he didn't even care about proper markings and... shit. Castiel lifted a stained hand to his face, then licked his palm as if Dean's load was the sweetest thing he could taste.
If he hadn't come literally half a minute ago, his cock would definitely have gotten hard again at the sight of this and the gourmand growl the Alpha let out from deep in his throat. This way, he could just feel more moisture seep between his cheeks and the clenching emptiness in his insides called out for fulfillment. And his Omega, growling softly and utterly surrendered, advised him that he should arch his back and adjust his ass.
"Sladkiy..." muttered Castiel to himself, then glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
Something dark flashed in his blue eyes, and then Castiel bared his teeth in a feral grin. That was the only small warning before he suddenly pressed Dean's whole body against the railing, forcing him to actually lean against it. By that point, most of the post-orgasmic high was gone, and even the newly rising excitement was gone, replaced by the cold sting of panic stabbing at his stomach. He knew damn well what the Alpha was up to now, and he didn't even need to feel him start to pull his pants down his hips to do it. He wanted to fuck him here and now, bent over the railing while they were both dressed.
He reached for the wrist of Alpha's hand before he could realize what he was doing, and it wasn't until he held it, stopping Castiel from removing his pants, that he realized what he'd done. A small disgruntled grunt warned him that he'd better have a damn good argument for what he'd done.
"I want to suck your cock," he blurted out, and wow, okay, that actually sounded very sincere. Probably because it was sincere. He had no idea how to suck someone off, and he wasn't even sure he wasn't going to start gagging on Cas's cock like some ridiculous amateur, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it a hundred times. Yeah, and he tried it once, so...
"Do you want?" he asked Alpha in a strange way, as if he hadn't expected it, and he could be heard assessing their shared scent with subtle intakes of breath.
He licked his lips.
"Yeah, I want to," he assured him, putting all the sincerity he could muster into his voice, knowing he had to convince Alpha that he was literally aching to taste his cock. Desperately and hungrily.
"Hmm... As your Alpha, I'll give you anything you want..." growled Cas in his ear before letting go.
Pulling his pants back up to his waist, he shoved his cock into his briefs and buckled himself in. He took his time controlling his suddenly pounding heart with nervousness, so when he finally turned around, he found that Alpha had just sat down on the couch and spread his legs comfortably in clear invitation.
He hesitated for only a moment before moving towards him, watching as Castiel took one of the cushions from the sofa and tossed it on the floor in front of him. Then he lifted his hands to his belt and, while adjusting the pillow with his feet, unbuckled his belt. It was pretty clear this wasn't the first time he'd done this. And by that, of course, he didn't mean the blowjob. He meant that it wasn't the first time he'd been sucked off here at the club, on this very sofa.
His Omega growled jealously, but he himself felt something choke his throat. Don't be such a pussy, Winchester. Of course you're not the first one to suck his dick. There were dozens, who knows, maybe hundreds of boys like you. Yeah, they probably weren't Omegas, but what does it matter? Just because Castiel tries to tell you that doesn't mean you're really special.
"Come here, Dean, and get on your knees," the Alpha ordered him, because he probably wasn't moving fast enough, tapping the toe of his shiny boot on the edge of the pillow.
While the order wasn't curt or angry, it was enough to chase away Dean's stupid thoughts and spur him on. He knelt in the designated spot and yes, he was instantly grateful for the pillow. The carpet was high and thick pile, but it yielded easily. The pillow was soft and comfortable. He imagined he could kneel on it for quite a while.
But fuck the pillow. He wasn't here to enjoy the luxurious interior of the club. He glanced upto Alf's crotch and his hands, which were just undoing the button on his pants.
"I'll do it," he blurted, reaching for his pants.
Their hands awkwardly clashed. Dean stiffened a little and looked up at Castiel's face. How was this actually being done right? Was there a procedure for this? He'd never been the one on his knees, and on the few occasions he'd gotten blow jobs from a girl, it just sort of... worked out. He wasn't sure who was unzipping pants and stuff back then.
If there was any proper protocol for blow jobs, Alpha gave him no indication. He just put his hands on his thighs and, with that damn intense gaze of his fixed on Dean, sat still and let him do what he wanted.
He licked his lips quickly and lowered his gaze to the massive bulge that was literally under his hands. He stared at it and... damn! He wasn't going to sit there like an idiot, so he gathered his courage and quickly unzipped the zipper, revealing the same white boxers he'd seen once before, and then grabbed the edge of both the pants and said boxers and pulled. Castiel willingly moved his hips so that he could pull both down and free his hard cock, which literally popped out excitedly.
He remained looking at it. Maybe it was the dim light or because he wasn't as turned on this time, but it didn't seem as huge as last time. Yeah, it was damn impressive. Hard as a rock even to look at, with a knot looming at the root, and certainly a lot bigger than Dean's, but not intimidating. It was more... wow. He actually really wanted to suck it. He even salivated at the sweet, tart smell that filled the air as he pulled Alf's pants down.
He didn't think too hard, though somewhere in the back of his mind he was thinking he should have been more deliberate about what he was doing, and he just cupped Alpha's thick length in his hand. It was almost like holding his own cock. Hot, hard and soft at the same time, the skin was as soft as his own and he could feel and see the veining. Apart from the size and knot, the only thing different was the foreskin, which still partially covered the reddened glans.
He moved his hand experimentally a few times.
Even that went as hard as when he wanted to jerk off and didn't even use saliva, so... He licked his lips, took a breath, closed his eyes, and leaned forward. Just no teeth, he reminded himself, before he clamped the hot tip of Castiel's cock between his lips. It tasted salty and bitter, so other than a nice, wet pussy, but oddly enough, it wasn't bad. Not the way he'd feared it would be once he had to do it. That gave him both courage and enthusiasm, and he let his cock slide deeper into his mouth. He sucked. He used his tongue. He slid his mouth up and down, daring to push his alpha's cock deeper each time.
Finally, he even dared to look up. He was a little worried he'd see dissatisfaction or boredom on Castiel's face, but no. He was still looking at him with that intense gaze from under his lids, his lips parted, and when Dean looked at his hands out of the corner of his eye, he saw that he was pressing one into his own thigh and the other into the edge of the sofa. He liked it. His Alpha was pleased. It filled him with pride, satisfaction and excitement that made him want to try to swallow Cas's cock even deeper to give him more pleasure.
It was a fucking mistake.
The blunt head slammed into his palate, his throat tightening reflexively and tears welling up in his eyes.
With a disgusting slurping sound, he let his cock slip out of his mouth because he needed to take a good breath. The air he gasped in irritated his sensitive throat even more, and he coughed ignominiously. God, it was so embarrassing that he didn't even dare look up.
Suddenly a hand went into his hair. He immediately tensed in anticipation of his head being pushed back onto Castiel's cock, because why should the Alpha have any patience with a clumsy Omega giving his first blowjob. That was his first thought, which quickly dissolved both under Cas's touch and thanks to the growl of his inner Omega. Alpha wouldn't do this, he was almost certain of it now, and he wasn't.
"Easy, Dean. Easy," he grumbled, surprisingly free of the displeasure he wouldn't have blamed him for, and ruffled his hair. "You don't have to swallow it whole. It's not about quantity, it's about quality. Find a rhythm, breathe through your nose and use your hand and tongue," he instructed as he guided him back to his cock with gentle but steady pressure. He gave in and took the thick cock back into his mouth. And he tried to do as Alpha advised. Find a rhythm and breathe in through his nose every time his mouth was almost empty.
"Squeeze my knot," he got more advice, this time in a voice tinged with grunts.
He glanced up quickly to make sure Castiel was serious, then gripped the hand he was using to encircle the base of his cock a little tighter. He did it more firmly than he would have liked himself, but the hard mound of knot that pressed into his palm simply urged him to do it. And he did it well. The alpha above his head gasped in satisfaction. The first vocal indication that he liked it.
Dean smiled ruefully inwardly and continued his good work. Nice and regular, honest and conscientious, like a good soldier,and every now and then he looked up to make sure Cas was still watching him and still enjoying it. And it looked like he did, he liked it, he just... Damn, it was taking too long. His knees were pushing through the pillow, his legs were tingling from lack of blood, his jaw was starting to ache, and even though he was trying to breathe regularly, he felt like he was running out of air. In addition, his lips burned and he could feel his own saliva running down his chin.
Finally he couldn't take it anymore and had to pull away for a big breath.
"Shit..." he muttered as he wiped his mouth.
Still holding Alpha's cock, his gaze fixed on the ground, he felt embarrassed again. He thought he was doing a good job, but obviously not good enough. Yeah, sure, Alphas took longer than Betas or Omegas, but damn! This was taking forever.
"It would go faster if you'd let me fuck your mouth," came calmly from above him, and the hand he was only vaguely aware had been in the back of his head the whole time dug a little deeper into his hair.
He looked up quickly
Hours and hours of porn had taught him what to imagine by fucking his mouth. He would just have to keep his mouth open and let Alpha do all the work. It would be quick, probably wild, and he'd probably end up with his cock deep in his throat and a knot stuck behind his teeth. Whether he wanted to or not, the idea would be as unnerving as it was arousing. He felt his own cock twitch at the thought.
"Okay..." he agreed, immediately feeling the hand in his hair twitch. He bucked against it and grabbed Alpha's arm. "Just... don't knotting my mouth, okay?" He demanded, because he couldn't fucking imagine how he could handle something like that.
"I'll only go as deep as you'll let me," he replied, as if perhaps Dean might do something, or maybe just object, when she grabbed his head and just rammed his cock as deep into her mouth as possible. The idea was ridiculous, and he realized just how ridiculous it was when the alpha lifted himself off the couch, forcing him to back up a little and, more importantly, tilt his head. At least he'd felt like he'd been in control before, but now... at this angle... and with Alpha towering over him.
He decided it was best to give in to his Omega instincts, just relax, close his eyes and open his mouth. And hope that Castiel wouldn't do anything that would cause him to throw up on the nice orange pillow he was kneeling on.
"Hold my knot."
He opened his eyes in surprise, shut his mouth, and looked up. The alpha looked like he knew exactly what he was doing, so he did as he was asked. He gripped the knot half-formed at the base of his cock with his hand, and that's when he ran out of sense. With his cock in his hand, there would be barely half of it left to take in his mouth, and it wouldn't matter how wildly or even roughly Alpha decided to use his mouth. In fact, he'll be as in control of it the whole time as he was before.
His chest tightened with the warm feeling brought on by the fact that yeah... Castiel cared about his comfort. Whether he liked it. It was ridiculous to feel that right now. Man, who gets turned on like a girl at a romantic movie when someone's dick is in his hand and just inches from his face. He suppressed these nonsensical feelings and leaned forward to take Alpha in his mouth.
Immediately he felt two hands at the back of his neck, holding him firmly in place this time, and then Alpha rocked his hips. The first few thrusts were shallow, gentle, but with each successive one he could feel the warm flesh going deeper into his mouth and gaining in intensity. He could hear Alpha's growling breathing. He could feel the dull nails digging into his head and gripping his hair so hard it almost hurt. And his mouth was filling with so much saliva and bitterness and the smell of roasting cherries that he couldn't swallow, and the whole viscous mixture ran down his chin. His eyes burned and tears started streaming down his cheeks because he was running out of air. He must have looked wet, used, maybe even humiliated, if all he could do was kneel on his aching knees, keep his mouth open and try to breathe regularly and not start gagging. He should feel disgusted with himself for having to look like a bitch, but god... he didn't feel like one. The feeling of being in Alpha's hands was absolutely perfect. He wanted it so badly and he didn't understand what he'd been afraid of just a few minutes ago. He'd been fucking made for this. Kneeling in front of his Alpha and...
He opened his eyes and looked up into Castiel's face through his tears.
The alpha prized his teeth and his eyes… those eyes that could stare into the depths of the soul… were red in color. It was visible even in the dim light of the club and Dean loved it. And he was damn proud of the fact that his Alpha looked so depraved just because of him. It excited him so much that if he hadn't had his clothes wet for a long time, he could easily wring them just because of this sight.
Cas' fingers dug into the nape of his neck with renewed force, and the thrust that followed was far too deep and harsh. He dimly realized that the Alpha must be close and that he should do something. Try to pull away and finish him off with your hand or something. But before his brain could move his body, he felt the knot under his hand grow to full size and a quantity of bitter liquid flooded his mouth and throat.
Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…
He made a feeble attempt to pull away, but he knew in advance that the Alpha wouldn't let him go and he didn't stand a chance against his strength. He had no choice but to try to swallow. There was a lot of it. Shit… a lot more than he expected. If porn lied about anything, this fucking thing didn't. And if Castiel thought he was going to swallow all of this, he was damn wrong. Dean was no porn Omega. He didn't give this.
The hands in his hair loosened as Cas finally finished with a contented sigh, and Dean immediately took advantage of that to pull away.
It was a stupid mistake.
Suddenly he had cum everywhere. On his chin, on his face, on the hands he used to cover his mouth in vain and also on his beloved t-shirt and maybe even on his dad's jacket... No, hell no, he definitely wasn't going to think about their Alpha right now.
"Fuck!" he snarled, sending a murderous glare towards Alpha, who had just landed on the couch with another sigh. He looked perfectly content, even beautiful and sexy as he lay there with his legs half spread and his cock still hard and a big knot starting from his open pants. Not that it made Dean stop being mad at him, but he still enjoyed the look.
“You could have warned me,” he barked, looking around for anything but a pillow to use to wipe himself off. There were just a few napkins for each glass on the table, which he could take.
Castiel let out a grunt that sounded more like amusement as he leaned forward and grabbed the back of Dean's neck again. He gripped his hair and tilted his head so that he could look into his eyes.
"Ya davno khotel uvidet' tebya takim. Ty takoy krasivyy, moy Omega.”
He frowned. He already understood some of the words, so he knew that Cas had already called him beautiful, but the rest…
"I don’t understand you."
"I'm saying that I've wanted to see you like this for a long time."
Dean smirked.
“Fucking and,” he breathed in; he reeked of a mixture of Alpha and Omega arousal and cum. Well, just perfect, "smelling like a brothel?" he finished sharply, and yeah, that probably wasn't the nicest thing to say in this situation.
"Yes," he got a simple answer that simply took away any further arguments.
He looked down at the few wipes he'd managed to grab, planning on trying to wipe the t-shirt off regardless of whether Cas wanted to let him or not. Strangely, he put his hands away and let him do what he wanted.
"Do you have a bathroom?" he asked as he more or less gave up on his quest and came to the conclusion that he would need water. "I want to wash..."
“You can shower in my apartment. I live here above the Blue Sky.”
He looked into Alpha's eyes and immediately had to smirk. Of course he was inviting him over and he probably didn't expect Dean to refuse.
"Sure and as soon as we get there you'll have lots of funny ideas huh?" he chuckled, for the most part genuinely cheerful, but also to cover up his nervousness. When he went to Blue Sky, he didn't plan for it to end like this, but in retrospect it was clear to him that it was to be expected. Just as it was clear to him that he had gone too far to back out, regardless of the fact that he probably didn't want to back out.
"I can assure you I won't have any funny ideas for a while," the Alpha replied, putting air quotes around the last two words. “Do you want to come to me or not? The choice is yours…”
He stared into the blue eyes for a long time that didn't reveal anything about what Cas was thinking or wanting. They were like a calm, nighttime lake, looking down on Dean from a contented and relaxed face, on which the lights of the club painted deep shadows.
He licked the wet bitterness from his lip before nodding.
"Yeah fine. Lead me…"
Chapter 24
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
No, the Alpha wasn't paranoid at all, it just had an electronic card lock and a twelve digit code and, judging by the multiple clicks, at least eight door latches. And the door itself was so thick it just had to be lined with steel. Dean got a very good look at them. Habit and training. Knowing which way and how to get out of a room was important. Not that he expected to have to run, but if by chance he did... well, the card and code were needed from the inside as well. Once the door closed and the locks clicked into place, he simply didn't have the slightest chance of getting out.
He looked away from the card slot next to the door and looked around.
Three wide stairs ascended on the left, covered with the same kind of carpet he'd seen in Doll. He could also see as far as the glass doors to the balcony, the nighttime cityscape, and catch a glimpse of a kitchen with a bar. Just opposite the door, though, was a wall rising about halfway up the damn huge space that arched over him. The ceiling had to be at least thirteen feet high.
He lowered his eyes back to Alpha and watched him walk over to the painting that hung on the wall just opposite the door. Dean quickly figured it must be a picture of Jesus, what with the halo and all. But it was a little different than the paintings he'd seen in the churches they'd visited on every anniversary of his mother's death. It was painted in a sort of heavy-handed style with lots of brown and gold and thick curly hair and a curly beard.
Castiel stepped in front of the painting, crossing oneself and bowing slightly. It was strange, and perhaps a little unnerving, to see this particular Alpha... his Alpha... showing respect, even humility, and even more so to the picture. Sure, people did it, and Alphas did it, of course, and Castiel openly admitted to attending church services, but... religion just didn't make sense to Dean. And up until now, he couldn't imagine Castiel bowing his head in sincere humility to anyone, acknowledging that he wasn't the most dominant Alpha around.
Castiel turned to Dean.
"Spas Nerukotvornyy," he said in Russian, to which Dean responded with a confused frown. "The only picture of the Savior's face that wasn't painted by a human hand. It was printed in the veil that his followers used to cover his face when he was taken down from the cross. It hangs opposite the front door to protect the home from evil and people with evil intentions."
"Ah... well..." he said vaguely, hesitating on what he should answer more. He glanced quickly over Castiel's shoulder. "Should I...?" He let the question fade into nothingness and made a sort of half-hearted motion towards his face. Somewhere deep in his memory, he had vague memories of his jacket, his tie being tightened, his Omega mom always admonishing him not to wiggle around and complain about his ass being pushed around, and people crossing oneself around. And his dad, who tried to teach him how to do it right.
The alpha wrinkled his brow a little before sliding his gaze down his body to his feet and shaking his head a little.
"Just make sure you take your shoes off," he said, squatting down himself.
Right. Shoes. Take them off. He quickly knelt down and began working on the knot in his shoelaces as well. Here he was in Alpha's apartment, his lair, not a motel where it was sometimes healthy to get into the shower in his shoes. He pulled off his shoes and looked around for a place to put them while he thanked all the cosmic deities that he didn't have a hole in his sock. That would have been embarrassing. At that moment, Alpha took them from his hands and shoved a pair of sharp-toed velvet slippers with some oriental designs in their place.
"You have big feet. My size should fit you."
He glanced at his feet - yes, he had big feet, especially for an Omega - and then looked back at Alpha, who'd managed to put Dean's shoes on the doormat next to his own and was already climbing the stairs without checking to see if he was following. He quickly slipped on his boots, which looked ridiculously omega on his foot and in fact he couldn't imagine Cas ever wearing them, and ran up the stairs.
The alpha walked quickly to his destination, so he didn't have much time to look around, but he did it as carefully as he could anyway.
The apartment was big, like really really big, but not actually huge. He was expecting something even bigger, maybe even a duplex, like in the movies or catalogs, but no. It was just one big room, with big windows and balconies overlooking the city on two sides, and either sliding doors to other rooms on the other two sides - they were heading to one of them - or furniture. Although actually...furniture... To the right was the living room, which had an antique-looking sofa and large armchairs along with an antique-looking coffee table, but that was all the furniture that was there. Except for the space for the huge television hanging on the wall, a bookcase covered all available walls, up to the height of the partition in front of the front door. And it wasn't the kind made of pipes and planks or chipboard that was common in libraries, bookstores and schools because it was cheap but practical. This was heavy on the dark brown painted wood. He had seen a similar bookcase at Bobby's. Old Alpha had a strange hobby. He collected old books on monsters, ghosts and witchcraft, and had so many that he not only filled all four walls of his small study, but there were books on mysticism all over the house. Still, as far as Dean could guess, Bobby's library wasn't even a quarter the size of Castiel's.
He glanced over to the other side, where there was a large kitchenette, including a bar he could see from the doorway. The kitchen looked very modern. All glossy black, white and stainless steel with a variety of appliances like a huge coffee maker, a large microwave or something that looked a lot like the beautiful pot Cas had brought to the park for their meeting. And somehow it all contrasted with the rather cheap looking small light wood table and four chairs. Plus, it was all so... impersonal, as if no one used the kitchen to make coffee.
At first he thought it was just that the kitchen was clean and new, but then it dawned on him.
Alpha's scent was everywhere, because this was his lair. It was strong, unmixed with any other person's scent, but it mainly trailed from the library. It was where Castiel spent most of his time. He could totally picture him sitting on a couch or in a chair, legs comfortably stretched out in front of him, a book in his hands, the setting sun illuminating them. He would look... perfect and relaxed too. He'd have one of those little smiles on his lips, and the lines around his eyes would deepen... It would be nice to see him like that sometime, or even sit on that same couch and watch TV with him. Some B-horror movie that would make Alpha wrinkle his nose and curl his lips, like almost everyone else who wasn't a fan, like Dean.
His chest stung a little at the thought. Something like that was never going to happen no matter how much his stupid Omega wanted it to, or even no matter that she was happy with herself right now and deeply convinced that this was Dean's new home. After all, this was his Alpha's lair, so where else would he live?
No! He forbade himself from thinking such foolish thoughts. He preferred to pay attention to his Alpha, who had just opened the sliding door for him and, while he held it open, gestured with his hand for him to come in.
The bedroom was dominated by a large bed with a black velvet headboard, which he'd already spotted during the video call, and the only other furniture was the long bedside tables on either side of which stood old-looking lamps that somehow didn't match the modern bed. The right wall of the room was again one large window with a door to the balcony, but unlike the windows in the main room, there were blinds here. To the left was a pair of sliding doors.
A warm hand rested on the back of his neck, gently kneading his neck.
"The first door on the left is the bathroom. You'll find the towels easily. Feel free to take your time while I get you some clean shirts," Cas said, whereupon Dean felt a quick kiss pressed against the back of his neck. Then he ruffled his hair one last time and closed the door behind him as he left the bedroom, leaving him space, time and privacy.
He looked around one more time before heading into the bathroom.
He opened the door and yeah... the bathroom was fucking huge. Well, not compared to the apartment itself, of course, but who needed a bathroom so big that he could live in it with his dad and Sammy in peace? It was ridiculously big, though... he looked around and wow... yeah, he was starting to change his mind. The two sinks set into the stone countertop and the huge shower were cool in their own right, but the bathtub! A gorgeous, huge bathtub, at least for four people, that had a whirlpool in it. That was something. God, how he would have loved to have loaded himself into the warm water for an hour or two. Oh, he'd bet the tub must have had a heater to keep the water warm, because the bathroom itself definitely had a heated floor. He could feel it even through the thin soles of his shoes.
He loved bathtubs. He was a gentle, spoiled Omega at this point, and he loved baths with all the trimmings, including a thick lather with some nice scent to match his own, and maybe some oils and stuff. The last time he'd been lucky enough to take a bath was about three months ago, when they'd gotten a room with a clogged drain and the bathroom had started filling with stinky water during the night. When he walked in there in the morning, still groggy, he didn't notice the water and slammed his head on the floor with himself so hard that he broke his head off the tile. It was nothing, it didn't need stitches, and it hardly hurt (he'd stumbled around much worse in his life and gotten bigger beatings), but it was a wonderful opportunity to get something for free. He made a scene in front of the motel manager ala poor, fragile, injured Omega, and Dad got so mad at the sight that they got a honeymoon suite for the next night, just to prevent the manager from any more scenes or problems.
Too bad he'll never use this bathtub. Certainly not alone, because... he could imagine Alpha taking him in there for a while sometime later that night. Yeah, I guess that would work.
He cast one last wistful glance at the tub and walked over to the sinks.
He picked one that didn't have a plastic cup with a toothbrush and toothpaste (the cheap stuff they had at every corner convenience store) and after a brief glance in the mirror, put his hands under the photo booth to rinse them off. He also washed his face and finally rinsed his mouth a few times to get rid of the lingering bitter taste with a hint of baked cherries. Theoretically, all he would have had to do was wash out the stains on the front of his shirt and he would have been done, but he knew that Alpha hadn't brought him here just to shower. And since he'd washed for the last time last night, and his underpants were certainly soaked and sticky, it was best to rinse off before getting into bed with Cas.
He quickly shed all his clothes.
The bathroom floor was really warm, the shower had a non-slip surface and jets on the walls. Holy fucking mother! It had jets! And a fucking display where you could set the temperature and which jets you wanted to turn on. That was awesome! This bathroom was just amazing. He could live in it, all he needed was a sleeping bag.
It was his usual damn bad luck that this was probably the only chance he'd get to try this amazing shower and he didn't have time to do it. There was nothing he could do. He wasn't here to enjoy the conveniences of Alpha's luxurious home.
The shower controls were quite simple, picture perfect, all he had to do was press what he wanted. Only he was confused about the temperature for a moment before he realized that in Russia, like everywhere in Europe, they used degrees Celsius, so 45 wasn't fucking cold. Then it was all perfect.
He washed off not only the sweat but a lot of the stress of the last few days. He felt... here in Alpha's lair... just too comfortable and safe. And he knew he should be more vigilant, but... god, the shower was perfect and Alpha's heavy scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds was so strong everywhere that his Omega was just purring contentedly somewhere in the back of his mind.
When he finally forced himself out of the shower - he must have been in it a long time, and it was a bit of a surprise that Castiel hadn't started looking for him - he easily found a shelf full of fluffy white towels, and while he towelled himself off, he wondered in his mind what it was like to use the bidet, and if Alpha's toilet had a heated seat. It existed, didn't it? Heated toilet seats.
He tied a towel around his waist, raked his damp hair through the toilet to give it some shape, and went out into the bedroom, half expecting to find Alpha there. But the room was empty. The only thing waiting for him were two plastic bags on the bed. One contained a plain black short-sleeved shirt and the other a simple pair of black sweatpants. Practical, unscented, packed in leak proof bags and designed for Alphas and Omegas. Were these the clothes the Alpha bought for himself? No, more likely not, because his clothes were made of fine, expensive fabrics, definitely hand-sewn and everything. These were mass-produced pieces. He must have had them for Alpha's visits.
He suppressed thoughts of his Case with anyone else and dressed quickly.
Alpha was probably waiting for him next door. He opened the sliding door to follow, only to hear his voice as soon as he did. He was talking loudly, probably on the phone and in Russian, so it was impossible to tell if he was angry or just talking to his brother again. Either way, Dean decided not to disturb him, preferring to wait in the bedroom.
He left the door ajar and sat on the bed.
Of course, his eyes immediately began to wander around the room. It was actually more or less empty, except for the large, wonderfully soft and comfortable bed he was sitting on and the bedside tables. Hmm, what did the Alpha have in his bedside table? A gun? Money? Drugs? Condoms? A book and reading glasses? An iPad with porn on the browser? Just empty drawers or all of the above? He got up to go look, but couldn't get to the nightstand because... there was a second door! That was a whole other room to explore.
He tried the door to see if it would open, and since it surprisingly did, he threw it wide open and was left staring at a ridiculously huge closet, at least as big as the bathroom.
Slowly he walked in, taking in the smell of dry cleaning, expensive fabrics, Alpha's scent, and even picked up the smell of leather somewhere in the background, probably from boots and fur.
One wall was filled with racks of shirts and jackets hanging together with pants. Most of the shirts were white and most of the jackets were black, and as he walked slowly past them, they all seemed to have the same cut. There were a few completely wild pieces by Cas' standards though, like the red and black shirts and even a few light pink and blue ones. He also discovered one light and dark blue striped jacket and another white jacket. Wow! Totally crazy!
At the end of the long pole were coats, and several of them. There was the old, beige one that Alpha wore a lot and from which his lovely scent was already wafting in the distance. Dean couldn't resist burying his nose in it. But since that wasn't enough, he simply wrapped his arms around the coat and carefully rubbed his face, hair, and especially his chin against it, not only to apply Alpha's scent to his freshly washed body, but more importantly to apply his scent to his favorite clothes. It was probably a stupid idea, and he ran the risk of making Castiel uncomfortable, but his Omega purred contentedly and Alpha let it be known many times that he liked Dean's scent. Maybe he wouldn't mind having it on his coat, where it would probably howl quickly besides, drowned out by Castiel's own dominating scent. So maybe it was a bit of a show of defiance, but it satisfied Dean.
He let go of the coat and looked at the next in line. Simple, black, long men's coats straight out of fashion magazines, except for the last one... Oh come on, really? He grinned. The last coat had a fur collar. Only women and Omega men wore those. He couldn't imagine any Alpha wearing it, especially Castiel, but he'd certainly like to see it. Just for the fun of it.
Amused and with a smirk on his face, he went to explore the other side of the locker room. His gaze briefly lingered on the tall mirror that took up most of the shorter wall, and he had to walk around the backless seat that stood in the middle of the room to get to the shoe rack.
At first glance, most of them were the same, leather, black, shiny, and obviously luxurious and expensive. On the second he found they had differently shaped toes and different decorative stitching. There were also a few brown loafers, a few sneakers that he couldn't imagine wearing on Alpha either, and one great rarity; a pair of leather sandals that stuck out like a fucking sore thumb from the collection.
If he wanted to continue exploring, he had a choice between a large wall full of simple drawers and an antique looking chest of drawers with a mirror attached to it. He chose the larger one and opened the first drawer. The drawer, like its birth sister immediately next door, was filled with simple white tank tops. Nothing amusing. The next drawer was already more interesting because it contained underwear. Mostly white boxers, then, which he already knew, and the same ones in black, too, but man! Alpha had a few silk pieces in black, blue, purple and dark red. He could definitely picture Cas's nicely shaped and firm ass in these. Sexy.
The other drawers were boring. White and black socks, some fancy pajamas, nothing he hadn't anticipated, so he didn't investigate too much and moved to the old dresser.
He pulled out the first drawer and found it wasn't a dresser. It was a bloody huge jewellery chest, and the very first drawer he opened peeked out at him a collection of rings set in those ring cushions. All the rings were obviously men's size, Castiel's size. They were mostly gold, but also silver and platinum. Some looked like signet rings, others had stones on them, others were just rings with or without engraving. Most were classic in appearance, but a few were modern. One, for example, was two rings with ball bearings between them so it could be turned.
In another drawer he opened were bracelets. Mostly chain and gold ones, like he saw on Castiel normally, but also a few solid ones and even two nice bracelets that had leather straps embedded in them. Exactly Dean's style. They'd fit perfectly with the ones he was wearing right now, they just probably weren't bought at a flea market.
He opened another drawer, from which a watch peeked out at him. A collection as huge as his collection of rings and bracelets. The very first ones in the front row were gold. Probably ones that the Alpha wore often, as they were familiar to him. He reached over to take them out and get a better look. He had never actually held a gold watch, as in really and truly all gold, including the strap, dials and hands on it. Yeah, a few cheaper Rolexes had passed through his hands - you wouldn't believe someone could be rich enough to afford a Rolex, but also such a cheapskate that he stayed in cheap motels with pokey locks when he traveled - but this was different. Was it lighter or heavier than a regular watch? And what was it actually like to have such a pile of gold on your wrist?
"Dean?"
He jumped in fright, turned sharply, and met the intent gaze of Alpha, who was standing at the door to the dressing room.
"I'm not stealing! I'm just watching!" He yelled after an impossibly long second of just staring at him in alarm. Then he immediately showed his arms and neck and lowered his gaze in an instinctive and deliberate display of submissiveness. Because... fuck, fuck, fuck! He shouldn't have been snooping in Alpha's dressing room. And he certainly shouldn't have been going through his things. He should have stayed sitting on the bed and waited for Castiel to make his call, no matter how bored he was in the bedroom. If the Alpha thought he was going to rob him... The photos of the dead Alpha that had burned in the gas burner under the fryer of the diner where Dean worked were a good indication of what the Alpha would do when someone touched his property. Sure, Dean didn't think he'd end up the same way if the Alpha thought he was going to rob him, but he certainly wouldn't let it go.
"I didn't think you were stealing," the Alpha said calmly enough to allow himself to look up at him, watching him warily as he approached. "If you like any of these," he uttered as he stood at Dean's side, nodding his head as he did so towards the pulled out watch drawer, "you're welcome to take them. What's mine is yours, Dean, unless I say otherwise."
"Really?" He asked skeptically.
What the Alpha once owned was his until death and beyond, just forever, and yeah, Cas let him take his drink, but the glass of lemon tea was different than the watch.
"Sure." He nodded. "Which one did you like?" He asked with genuine curiosity; Dean just couldn't control himself and his gaze slid to the massive, gold watch he wanted to examine. "This one?" Alpha asked with amusement in his voice and without waiting for an answer, he pulled the watch from its place. "Would you like these?"
"No...!" He replied hastily, because hell no, he couldn't take this huge bar of gold and bring it to the motel. Sammy wouldn't have missed it, and he couldn't sell a watch like that, since every pawnbroker would be asking where someone like Dean had gotten it. For the really expensive stuff, you had to get a dealer, and Dean would bet his ass that if not Alpha himself, his men sure knew every dealer in town.
"I just wanted to..." his voice trailed off and a sense of awkwardness enveloped him.
"To try them on and see what it felt like?" Cas finished for him indulgently, "Hold out your hand," he prompted.
His curiosity was greater than his embarrassment, so he did indeed set his hand and watched as Castiel put his watch on and switched it on. The watch was cold, of course, but it warmed up quickly, and while it was heavy, it wasn't as heavy as it might have seemed at first glance from how massive it looked. The individual pieces of the band were much more delicate and thinner than he had thought.
"How does it feel?" He asked, not just curiously, but in a way that seemed to be asking something naughty.
That made Dean look up at him and frown in confusion, because the Alpha was staring at him as well, as if he wanted to know a secret.
"Weird," he replied honestly; the Alpha raised his eyebrows in surprise and cocked his head to the side in question. "It's huge, shiny, snobby, and doesn't fit my style," he added, and to back up his words, he held up his other hand next to his wrist with the watch to show how strange it looked next to his bracelets. "See? It's ridiculous..."
Castiel measured his hand with that strange look before lifting it to Dean's, the corners of his mouth twitching in a gentle smile that he partially hid as he lowered his head and began to unfasten the gold watch.
"You're right. It doesn't suit you. We'll find you another, better one," he reasoned aloud as he pulled all the gold off his wrist.
He stowed the watch in a drawer, closed it, and opened one of the lower ones. It too was full of watches, but they didn't look so expensive and snobby. Dean watched as Alpha judiciously scanned all the rows before picking one watch from the middle one. It had a black leather strap, definitely thinner than the strap on a gold watch, and was made of a greyish matte metal, the dial a grey-black colour with iridescent highlights. They weren't bad, and they probably wouldn't look ridiculous next to his leather bracelets.
The alpha put them on him and motioned with his hand for him to get a better look.
He did so, comparing them to his bracelets and his pendants and acknowledging that they would fit, but still... it was a watch. Who wore them today, anyway?
"Nice..." he assessed, more to avoid offending.
"Then it's yours."
"Thanks, Alpha..." he said again, trying not to offend or upset him, and really trying to put enthusiasm in his voice, only it was hard. He clearly remembered what had happened the last time he had received a gift from Alpha. Even what the gifts really meant. And he didn't want to think about that right now. If he was going to spend tonight here and not end up in tears again, like a hysterical Omega girl, he couldn't think about what was expected of him in return for presents.
"You don't like..."
"Yeah... no... I mean..." He panicked a little, quickly trying to think of an excuse, ideally an uplifting or funny one. "Who wears watches anymore, anyway? They make these smart boxes nowadays that tell you what time it is, and you can also use them to make phone calls, send messages, and watch porn, you know?" He turned it all into a joke and winked coquettishly.
Alpha gave him a skeptical look with a hint of sarcasm.
"An allusion to the fact that there were no phones in my youth? Funny," he said dryly, but there was a small glint of amusement in his eyes that reassured Dean that he'd done a good job of disguising it. "Watches were never just for telling time, Dean. A watch was and is a sign of status and prestige. They indicate your material security. A tasteful, elegant watch belongs on the wrist of every true man, and especially a true Alpha."
"I see..." he chuckled. "Big watches, big cars, big houses, big bangers... one would almost think that these true Alphas are compensating for something."
Cas cocked his head to one side and squinted.
"I had no idea that today's young Omegas had such big," he emphasized the word, " standards that even I can't meet."
Dean blinked, and his ears warmed. Damn job. How he'd proven he was always so quick and easy to become embarrassed.
"Damn. I didn't mean you, okay? You've got a big dick..."
Fuck! He didn't want to say that out loud.
"Thank you," Alpha growled smugly.
More shame and embarrassment heated Dean's throat.
"Oh, fuck me, you smug bastard!" He snarled.
"Oh yes, that's the plan tonight."
"Jesus! Shit... shut up or I'll die of shame!" He growled, not knowing where to put his eyes. He really hated this so much. He could mock every other knothead's cock and knot, tell dirty jokes, sovereignly approach any girl he liked, even if she was easily ten years older, but when it came to Alpha Castiel... Shit. He felt so inadequate, so inexperienced... so fucking young, like some scared little kid. He hated it, but he couldn't help himself.
"You got a pretty dirty mouth, Omega," Cas growled playfully.
He glanced up at him and exhaled sharply as the Alpha grabbed him by the waist and pulled him to him. He automatically wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
"Maybe I should spank you to teach you better manners," he snapped cheerfully through his teeth, slapping Dean on the ass. Sure it didn't really hurt, it just stung ever so slightly and pleasantly, but he yelped in surprise anyway.
"Hey!" He objected indignantly, pursing his lips.
Cas just growled playfully again, burying his hand in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He pressed against him, tightening the grip he had on Alpha's shoulders and moving his other arm around his waist to pull him close. And willingly, he tilted his head to the side as Castiel released his lips and moved to his neck to press a few kisses against it, running his nose over it, which seemed cold in contrast to Dean's skin, still hot with shame.
The alpha pressed another kiss, this time on the underside of his jaw, and pulled back to take his chin and stare into his face. He followed every line of Dean's face with intrigued blue eyes.
"I like it when you blush. You smell nice and it brings out your freckles."
Not just the words themselves, but the way they were said... the deep admiration in every syllable... made him feel embarrassed again, but also brought a heavy feeling to his stomach. He liked the intensity with which Castiel could follow him. Like he was the most important thing in the world. And it always made his Omega growl in satisfaction. But rationally, he knew it meant nothing. It wasn't and couldn't be real. No real love and all that shit.
"Here..." He pulled away a little, letting go of Alpha and started unbuttoning his watch; he planned to give it back to him, knowing it wouldn't make him happy and somehow wanting him to feel as stupid as he did now. And because it was a symbol of their 'business' relationship. "Your watch..." he said, without looking up from the watch, taking it off his wrist and trying to give it back to Alpha.
He was probably going to reject it, he didn't have time to grab it or something, anyway the smooth leather strap slipped out of Dean's hand and the watch landed on the fur rug in front of the jewelry box. He froze at that moment, and there wouldn't be any blood left in him.
"Fuck... fuck... fuck! I didn't mean to do that! I didn't throw them on the ground on purpose!" He began to apologize and explain in a rush.
Castiel didn't say anything, just pulled away enough to bend down to retrieve the watch.
"Did it break?" He asked with genuine fear as he watched the Alpha turn the watch over in his hands and fold its strap so he could look at the face. If it was broken, he had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn't pay Alpha or buy a new one.
"Of course not," he replied calmly, but he didn't look at Dean, just put the watch back in its place. "It fell on the carpet from barely... three feet. It would be a piece of crap if it broke that easily."
He sighed.
"Fine. That's good. I know how fragile these things are..."
The alpha turned a puzzled, questioning gaze towards him.
"A wristwatch, you mean?"
"No, nice, expensive things."
"Expensive things are usually better quality and more durable. And they last longer, maybe even generations," he dismissed his assumption. "Like your jacket, for example..." he said with a slightly raised eyebrow. "It's made of good leather, well tailored, and... it smells mostly of birch and blooming roses. It's not your scent, but it's similar to yours. It belongs to your... alpha father, doesn't it?" he referred to his dad with clear disapproval in his voice, but Dean nodded in agreement anyway. "He must have worn it for years for the scent to become so absorbed, and you'll wear it for many more years before you pass it on to our pup one day."
"You'd let your puppy wear an old jacket?" He grinned in clear disbelief. He could totally see how someone like Castiel, who could have literally anything, wanted nothing more than for his children to wear tattered clothes from some charity that smelled of cheap disinfectant and equally cheap odor removers.
"Of course," he agreed without hesitation.
"Sure..." He chuckled. "You? An alpha who can buy all this stuff," he waved his hand around. "An Alpha who has literally anything... You'd want your kids to wear clothes that smell like me and my Alpha dad? Bullshit... why would you want that?"
"Typical American mindset. You have no respect for your history and your ancestors," Castiel snorted for once, and he definitely sounded disgusted enough for Dean to feel a surge of need to defend his own people. But he didn't get a chance to say anything as the Alpha continued, "What you see around you is just tinsel. I like it, it's nice, but it has no real value. Only things that have passed through the hands of generations or that someone has put their talents or faith into have real value..." he paused and looked at him in a strange sort of way before asking a completely incoherent question: "Do you believe in God?"
It confused him and moreover; what was the correct answer? What did Alpha want to hear? It was clear that he did believe in God. Dean on the other hand... not so much.
"I don't know... maybe... I've never had time to think about it," he replied vaguely before going on the counter attack. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"But you're baptized, right?" He didn't let Dean's question faze him in any way.
"Yeah... yes... as far as I know... I mean... but..."
Alpha didn't say anything else, just pulled out one of the drawers Dean hadn't had time to examine before. The drawer was almost empty. There were only three crosses, each resting lovingly and reverently on its own cushion, and a few medallions, at least one with the Madonna. Alpha picked out one of the crosses. Dean recognized it, it was the same one he had at their last meeting.
"The honorable Pop Alexander Sergeyevich gave me this one. He blessed it himself and made it symbolic of the beginning of my journey to re-accept God, a journey for the forgiveness of my sins great and small and reconciliation with my lot in life. Its worldly value," he passed it from one hand to the other, "is small. But its spiritual value is incalculable," he declared, so earnestly that Dean would not have spoken even if he had had anything to say. "I want you to take it and treat it with the respect it deserves. Carry it. It will protect you."
He opened his mouth a little, like a fish out of water, but quickly closed it again and nodded. He had nothing to say to this. He felt embarrassed and confused, because the cross meant very little to him, but also incredibly flattered and, who knew why, touched, because he could clearly see that Castiel cared very much. It was written all over his face, in his eyes, and even somehow in his scent. That made this particular cross important to Dean, even if he didn't believe in God himself... probably.
He bowed his head a little to indicate that he would accept the cross.
Castiel accepted his agreement in silence. Stepping closer, he unfastened the chain and then fastened it around Dean's neck. Finally, he settled the cross itself on his chest, a soft, satisfied, gentle smile appearing on his face that didn't falter even when he looked up. He looked so damn handsome and so damn sincere. It was one of those moments when it was nice to believe it was all real and enjoy the feeling that warmed Dean's chest.
"Thank you, Cas," he said, this time with genuine gratitude, cupping his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him.
"Wait..." The alpha pulled away only slightly, looking away just long enough to close the drawer of crosses before wrapping his arms around his waist and finally pulling him into a kiss with the words, "Now come here..."
Once Castiel's hands strayed under his shirt, he didn't even hesitate, grasping the edge of it himself before pulling away from Alpha's tasty lips just long enough to pull it over his head. He let it fall to the floor and immediately had to smile smugly because the way Cas was literally staring at his body with undisguised hunger and pleasure really made him feel proud. Alpha's pupils were wide, though his irises were still blue, his lips were pouty, his nostrils flared, and his scent was filled with musky arousal.
"You really are beautiful..." he breathed his usual flattery, but this time he said it with sincerity too, and his hands ran eagerly over Dean's torso.
Mapping his muscles with his warm palms, he buried his nose in his neck and latched onto his scent gland with such force and hunger that it not only sent a shiver of withdrawal throughout his body, but also a bit of sharp pain when the sharp fangs touched his skin. He exhaled sharply and surrendered to the pleasurable sensations, so much so that he only felt the searching fingers under the edge of his pants as Alpha pulled them down from his hips.
He stopped them and immediately felt a frustrated gasp envelop his ear.
Yeah, he was aware that he'd been holding Alpha back from his desired goal for a long time, but he didn't really intend to this time. This time he wanted it. Sure, he still had a knot of fearful nerves in his stomach, but... this was about the best he could get. No backseat or nice but impersonal hotel. This was Alpha's lair, Castiel had invited him to it, and that made a lot of sense and... fuck. He shouldn't have to think about such stupid things. It was just fucking, wasn't it? So why complicate it.
He wanted it. He wanted it with everything, and first and foremost, that meant getting rid of Case's precious husks.
"Not until you take your shirts off too," he said, adding a challenging smile along with a lascivious bat of his eyelashes. "It's not fair for me to be naked while you stay clothed again."
Yeah, the expression that crossed Alpha's face was a little surprised, but it quickly turned into a pleased smile with a bit of teeth and a deep growl that made his slightly parted lips vibrate.
"No, that's not fair. You're right," he agreed, but by then he had already started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
This time he didn't even ask permission, instead he simply pushed Alpha's hands away and set to work himself. And along with working the buttons quickly, he rather unconsciously forced Case to back up until his ass hit the dresser. He commented with a brief wince that made Dean stop what he was doing for a moment and look up into his face. He saw no hint of displeasure there. In fact, Alpha seemed to enjoy being treated like this. Not only did his expression give it away, but his scent and... fuck. Yeah, it definitely gave him the courage and confidence to do whatever he wanted, so he didn't hesitate anymore and pulled his shirt off his shoulders. And then kept going - it was a little heavy over his arms, probably because of the cufflinks - until it fell to the floor.
There was one more damn obstacle waiting for him under the shirt; the cotton tank top that separated him from all the tattooed skin he wanted to touch. He grunted in frustration and gritted his teeth, shaking the tank top out impatiently. The alpha reluctantly gave it up, so it quickly ended up with the other uppers.
He pulled away a little, but left his hands resting on the warm skin of Alpha's hips just above the belt, and looked. He just had to. His eyes wandered over his body. He had firm muscles stretching up his arms, his shoulders were a little broader and more muscular than they appeared when he was dressed, and his stomach, while not lacking in muscle, was more of a hint than a solid baker of buns. His arms were thickly hairy up to his elbows, and a path of dark hair stretched from under his trousers to his navel, but the rest of his body was smooth, with only a patch of hair here and there that was mostly lost in his tattoos.
And he was tattooed literally everywhere.
The ink ran from Castiel's fingers, up his arms to his shoulders, and then back down his chest to his stomach, a few tattoos disappearing past the edge of his pants. The most prominent was a huge cross that took up most of Castiel's chest, its shoulders almost touching his small, pale nipples. It was impossible to miss the naked, bound woman who was partially lost beneathhispants. And the large stars on his collarbones, which seemed to have the most frequent place next to the cross. The other tattoos weren't insignificant either, it's just that those three somehow caught the most attention and... Fuck! All of it together... the miles of pale skin, all the tattoos, the thin but firm ropes of muscle stretching down his arms, even the damn hair that reminded Dean to the fullest extent that the Alpha was a man with all the right stuff... it was all so fucking spectacular. He wanted to touch. He wanted to kiss every line of the intricate ornamentation that made up the cross. He wanted to smell and even bite into the mounds of scent glands that ran down Castiel's arms, partly covered by tattoos and partly accentuated by the natural, slightly brownish tint of his skin.
He wanted it all to be his. His Alpha, his alone, was a silent mantra that his inner Omega was growling in his ear and he just couldn't do anything but obey it. He hooked his fingers into his Alpha's belt and pulled him close. Their lips pressed against each other just like their naked chests. Dean let his hands roam over Cas's back in an attempt to map those moving muscles and the slightly protruding beads of his spine, well aware that he was being pushed towards the bedroom. He willingly backed up until his feet hit the soft edge and then he simply gave in and fell on his ass on the fluffy mattress.
He looked up at Alpha who towered over him, blue eyes still fixed down on him, and quickly unzipped his trousers. Dean lowered his gaze to his hands. He already knew what to expect, that is, if it was Castiel's cock. A good, thick, hard piece. That's why he was a little surprised at what he saw when the Alpha pulled his pants down his hips and let them fall down his slender legs. His cock was soft and rested peacefully in dark curls. Sure, it was still worthy of appreciation and a quizzical look, but it still unnerved him and took away some of the confidence and enthusiastic determination he'd had just moments ago. Was Castiel suddenly not turned on or what the hell? But no, as he inhaled deeply he could smell both the cherry scent full of sweet happiness and the Alpha's arousal and of course himself and his own scent of excited Omega that attracted every Alpha.
Castiel didn't seem at all perturbed by the softness of his cock, instead he bared his teeth in a grin and leaned over Dean a little like a predator over its prey, causing him to lean back, bracing himself on his hands and instinctively twisting his head to show his Alpha his throat. Cas rewarded that with one quick, hot kiss right on Dean's throbbing neck, then grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down in one swift motion. He did it without hesitation, giving Dean little time to get up, making it a little easier.
"Move up," he ordered.
Obediently, he began to slide up behind him, watching with a slowly appearing smile as Alpha crept up the bed behind him. He was on the hunt. Eyes wide and eagerly fixed on Dean, teeth bared a little in a snarl, his every movement the epitome of dominating power, but also of interest and playfulness. His Omega was delighted to see his Alpha like this. And it made him forget about the somewhat softened state of Castiel's cock, because... Cas obviously wanted him, and apparently he didn't mind that his cock wasn't hard, so why did Dean have to worry about that.
Tattooed fingers wrapped around his ankle, and before he could so much as yelp, he was being dragged down the bed by his leg. The alpha let out a triumphant growl, which quickly turned into a satisfied purr as he began to spread kisses across Dean's upper arm. Honestly it was a little ridiculous and it tickled too, he could only take it for a moment before he at least tried to free his leg.
Castiel gripped his leg tighter and cast up a disapproving look that said he just wasn't going to give up something he'd captured that was his from now on.
Dean couldn't help an amused smile.
"Do you have a foot fetish, Alpha?" He asked teasingly, laughter ringing in the undertone of every word.
"I think I have a Dean fetish," he replied with complete sovereignty, before rubbing his chin against Dean's upper arm to leave his scent on him. "You have perfect feet... and calves..." he kissed his calf, "... and knees." He pressed another kiss to his knee. The kisses tickled and the words made him uncomfortable. Perhaps no one in the world threw around flattery as much and as sincerely at the same time as Castiel. Regardless, Dean was aware that he looked good for a Beta, but not quite ideal for an Omega.
"And a perfect cock to suck, too," he pointed out, maybe a little too cheeky, but damn, better to be cheeky than embarrassed.
"Hmm...? Sassy, cheeky and smug too?" He raised an eyebrow and dug his fingers into Dean's thigh a little. "Those aren't the qualities of a good Omega, are they?" He asked, and for a small moment Dean thought he might have overreacted, but Castiel smiled again and straightened up between his spread legs. "Good thing I don't want a good Omega in my house," he added, and without further warning, he leaned down.
Dean gasped, half in surprise and half in bliss, and fell back. Shit! Cas was fucking good at this. The strokes of his hand were firm, sovereign, and in that exact rhythm that was perfect. And the things he could do with his tongue... there was just that one thing missing again. His hole leaked and clenched in need. He moved his hips off the beat in a helpless attempt to rub against something. That was all it took for Castiel to understand, his fingers digging into Dean's waiting ass. There was no resistance, no pain or even just a pinch. Not even that little, like last time. They slid in as easily as if he'd shoved them in himself. And... fucking Jesus. It was too much, but it was exactly what he wanted and needed. He felt that telltale tightness in his pelvis. No, no, no. He didn't want to come so fast, but... Shit. What he wanted or not was irrelevant with Alpha's lips around his cock and his big, long fingers in his ass.
The orgasm swept over him in two waves. One gripped his balls and the other his ass. He could only manage to stifle a moan by biting down on his own wrist. He ground flesh and skin between his teeth until he was sure the only sound he could miss would be a quick gasp. Then he let his hand drop and while he watched the lights on the ceiling, he enjoyed the pleasant feeling of relaxation and Alpha's gentle ministrations.
He wasn't quite ready, or rather willing, to move when the damp warmth disappeared and that made him lift up a little and look. He met the gaze of Castiel's blue eyes and his small, satisfied smile, which quickly came closer as the Alpha covered him with his entire body. His weight felt nice and warm. He wrapped his arms around his back and inhaled the heavy scent. The cherry pie was heavily accented by the musky scent of arousal, and the way Alpha pressed his pelvis against Dean's provided a clear clue to what he was thinking.
Dean licked his lips.
His head was clearing now, and he felt a small knot of cold in his stomach, from which panic was beginning to stick its ugly horns out. He suppressed it in favor of rational thought.
"Do you have condoms?" He asked; Cas tilted his head in question. "If not, I have a few in my jacket. They're in Alpha size. I bought them recently. There's a rather embarrassing story attached to it... I didn't know what kind you used and there were like whole racks of them to choose from in the store and there was this one Alpha salesman who was asking..." Castiel's brow furrowed, he squinted his eyes and pursed his lips in displeasure. Yeah, this was probably a story he should leave out for now, since it involved other Alphas. "Anyway... Shall I go get them?"
"No," the Alpha replied lazily, his expression relaxed again, and rubbed his nose against his jaw. "I want you here."
He tensed inwardly in anticipation of an addendum along the lines of 'we don't need any anyway' or 'what do you think I'm going to infect you with something?' but Cas didn't look like he planned to say anything like that. In fact, he seemed to really just want Dean in his bed. And in fact, it didn't look like he wanted to do anything more than rub his still-soft cock against his thigh a little, running his fingers over his side in a slow, almost soothing rhythm, and peering closely into his face from beneath his closed eyelids. It was supposed to be soothing to be petted by his Alpha, and the Omega part of him certainly welcomed it, but the rest of him, which was much larger, was not calm in the least. He needed something to do, something more than just lie there, and so when fucking wasn't in the cards anytime soon, it begged the question:
"What now?"
Cas sighed, and there was a little frustration in that sigh, as if he hoped Dean would just lie still, let his gaze bore a hole in his head, and be quiet the whole time. Well, if that was really what he expected, he'd taken the wrong Omega to bed. He couldn't stand to be still. He was just like that. He said he had attention deficit disorder or something. Sam's opinion.
"I'll have a cigarette," the Alpha replied, rolling away.
Losing the weight of his warm body and Alpha's scent, his inner Omega commented with a disgruntled groan and Dean almost reached for the retreating back, but in the end he didn't. In the end, he just raised himself up on one elbow and watched Castiel's back. He eyed his bulging ass, which was just as firm and round as he'd imagined. All those muscles moving beneath the tattooed skin as he searched the drawer for cigarettes, a lighter, and an ashtray. He also, of course, took the opportunity to get a good look at the actual tattoo on his back. The largest and most prominent one was between his shoulder blades. A heart pierced with an oddly shaped dagger, and when he said heart, he didn't mean the pretty, Valentine's Day kind; this one was anatomically faithful, including the bleeding veins strangled with barbed wire. And the dagger was a really odd shape because the handle was just a little thicker than the blade itself. Maybe it was more of a spear than a dagger...
There was a deck of cards tattooed under his heart rather to his right side. As carefully and precisely crafted as the heart and dagger. And down the bottom, not the arching butt cheeks, was an eye. Quite large, about the size of a child's fist, with a Greek letter B for a pupil. It wasn't half as well done as the other tattoos, it looked old because the ink was melted, and it was actually tattooed awry, as if the tattoo artist had bounced somewhere in the two-thirds and then couldn't catch the right rhythm and shape.
Cas rolled half over onto his back, blocking Dean's view. His cigarette was already hanging in the corners, caught by its golden fang, and his eyebrows were raised questioningly.
"You want a beer? Or orange juice? I've got water too..." he offered in a conversational tone.
"Beer...?" He asked with a half-question at the end.
The alpha leaned over the edge of the bed again. The familiar sound of the refrigerator opening made Dean lift himself up enough to look over Castiel's shoulder to the nightstand, which was no ordinary nightstand. Behind one of the bottom doors was a small refrigerator, the kind you saw in nice hotels and you paid a shitload of money just to open it. And it was full of bottles of water, juice and cans of beer. Wow! Damn it! Loved it here. Fridge right by the bed. Shower with jets, a tub with a Jacuzzi... if the bed has magic fingers, it'll stay here forever. Like right in this room. He'll have a couple dozen pillows delivered, build a nest, and he and Alpha will roll around on the soft mattress for the rest of their lives.
Cas rolled back over, one can in his left hand and both the cigarette he was clutching between two fingers and the other can in his right. It was clear he'd practiced. When he took the can from him, he discovered that it was his favorite Margiekugel.
"I made supplies," Alpha pointed out, noticinghisreading the sign and probably his satisfied smile. "I was kind of hoping that would lure you into my lair."
"Thanks. That's great," he thanked, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.
The alpha grunted contentedly, but made no major movement. He didn't look like he wanted to do anything other than lie propped up against the headboard with a pillow propped under his back. Dean decided to do the same. Moving close enough to Alpha that he wasn't touching him, he stretched his legs out comfortably, leaned back against the pelmet and opened his beer. Just as he was sipping, Alpha put his hand on his thigh. He glanced down at his tattooed fingers and stopped moving as he waited to see if he would do anything more, but he just began to lightly run his thumb over the inside of Dean's thigh.
Since he didn't do anything more, Dean swallowed a sip and leaned back against the soft headboard with a sigh, really comfortable.
Notes:
Thank you all for the comments, kudos and subscriptions and bookmarks.
Chapter 25: Photo documentation
Chapter Text
I'm sick (cough, cold, etc), which means I'm not in the mood or thinking about writing, but I'm bored at the same time. So I played around with the image generator based on the words I entered and created some WS related "photos". Mainly portraits of my OCs, which of course aren't entirely accurate, but I chose the look that most closely resembles my characters.
Blue Sky
It's not completely accurate, the tiles are supposed to be hexagonal, but together it gives just the right vibe.
I also tried to create the back room of the Moscow Doll, but it seems to be an unsolvable puzzle for the AI. I've tried 20 times in total and not once has it been even close to what the restaurant looks like.
Marcus
Yes, Lisa obviously has a type. :-D
Pyotr
Yuri
Vadim
Jacob
If you'd like some more OC characters, feel free to post. 😀 I didn't write all the details into the story, so the final product may be a little different than what you're imagining.
Chapter 26
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The silence and stillness stretched out and was pleasant at first, but after a while it began to get on his nerves. His gaze traveled all over the bedroom, but there was nothing of interest. The walls were white. The light was diffused as it came from under the panelling on all four walls. He could see the city through the open blinds, but the plethora of street lights and crashing skyscrapers quickly bored him. The original carpet was beige, with a thick, soft pile, but it was covered on each side of the bed by a long rug with a similar pattern to the one on the stairs. In his mind, he wrapped all the patterns a hundred and one ways, but that only kept him occupied for a while.
His gaze slid alone to his hand, which now rested perfectly still on his thigh. He squinted a little and turned his head. He tried to read the text on Castiel's knuckles, but of course it was gibberish in his head when half the letters didn't even resemble the ones he knew. But he was proud of himself for at least knowing where the letters had a bottom and a top. He thought about using google translator next time, but... how exactly would he take a picture of Cas's hand without Alpha noticing? That was kind of a tough one.
He focused on the tattoo on his middle finger, which was sometimes covered by a ring. He'd once thought it was a star, but now he could see that it was two concentric rectangles sitting on a ring encircling his entire finger, and in the very center of the rectangle was the letter A.
"Can you tell me what that means?" He broke the silence, and it was only then that he realized he was running his finger over his tattooed middle finger.
"It means I'm an Alpha."
"Really?" He looked up at him in disbelief. For it to just mean he was an Alpha was stupid, in his opinion. "You can't tell in Russia by... I don't know... like teeth? Especially yours." When Cas just cocked his head to the side instead of responding properly, Dean bared his own right fang and tapped it with his finger to indicate he meant his gold tooth. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me if I asked you a question," he added, intending to tease Cas a little.
"Yes, I promised," he replied calmly.
Dean frowned.
"You know, I know criminals use tattoos as a secret language," he pointed out, to which the Alpha raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Our Alpha is a hunter... well, not exactly. He doesn't have a license, but he'll occasionally take a job no one else wants or help out licensed bounty hunters for a percentage of the bounty. He's picked up a few things and so have I. I know, for instance, that cobwebs and barbed wire mean the person in question has done some years in prison. Each loop on the wire or ring on the spider web is for one year. The bloody barbed wire denotes the prisoner who killed behind bars, and the bloody tears denote how many people he killed in general."
"They also signify rank," Cas pointed out; this time it was Dean's turn to send him a questioning look. "With a lot of gangs coming out of Latin America... Mexicans, Brazilians, Cubans and others... you can tell how high up the food chain they are by the number of tears. And only the highest batches are marked with a bloody tear."
"So something like your stars."
The hand on his thigh grew heavy as Alpha's fingers dug more firmly into his skin, and the air was filled with a hint of bitter that wasn't actually strong, but was such a contrast to the hitherto absolutely sweet and wonderful scent that it gave Dean pause.
"What do you know about it, anyway?" He asked, but despite the subtle undercurrent of bitterness in his scent, he didn't sound or look angry.
"Nothing... not much. All I know is that they mean you're a big boss. Authority or whatever you call it. It's not that secret. You can find a lot of stuff on the internet nowadays, especially if you can dig a little deeper than normal users, you know?" he said with a slightly challenging raised eyebrow, actually proud of himself for swallowing the comment about how he could still find enough about Castiel himself on the right corners of the internet.
"The internet..." he snorted and took a deep drink, then turned a serious look on him. "You're right, Dean, there is a secret language of tattoos. Just the word 'secret' suggests that outsiders like you should know nothing about it..." He paused, his brow furrowed and his gaze sliding somewhere to the side. His eyes held a distant look for a moment before he slowly turned back to Dean, and in that moment he not only had that strange look, but a strange expression. "You're my True Mate, you actually saved my life, and I trust you... maybe more than is healthy. And I promised not to lie to you. Besides, I think you should know the language of tattoos so you know who you're facing. The tattoos not only determine one's status in the Brotherhood, they also tell you the skills, strengths, weaknesses, even the kind of person they are. But one thing you must remember; whatever I tell you, you must not talk about it to an outsider. Including your brother."
Dean was no fool. He knew he couldn't talk about anything he saw around Alpha or heard from him. He even understood that he could end up dead if he talked to the wrong person (not to mention the police) and that even Castiel probably couldn't prevent that. Sure, there was something crazy about it, but at the same time it was kind of logical. Simple rule; shut up or die. It wasn't hard for him to learn either. Regardless, it was part of his life. Trust no one, son, not even the police, that was what his dad told him literally every day.
"Sure, Alpha. I'm not stupid. I wouldn't talk about anything I know or have seen or heard."
"I know you're not stupid. And if I remember correctly, I've forbidden you from calling yourself stupid," he admonished, but he didn't wait for a reaction. "First, you should know that not all the tattoos you see on my men have any particular meaning. A lot of them are just for pleasure. But the ones that do have meaning... some we don't even talk about amongst ourselves, and others are even forbidden to talk about under very severe punishment. If you see a tattoo on someone you don't know, ask me about it first," he said seriously enough for Dean to take it seriously too. "If I know the meaning and can share it with you, I will. If not, I'll tell you not to ask about it. If it has no meaning that I know, then, and only then, can you ask its bearer what meaning it has for him. Do you understand?"
"Okay, Alpha."
Castiel measured him with a searching gaze for a moment before nodding slightly, the corners of his lips lifting just as the lines around his eyes deepened as he relaxed.
"Most of us like to talk about our tattoos. We're proud of them because they tell the story of our lives, but some tattoos can represent something painful for their bearers. They can remind them of the death of a loved one, a major life failure, or something else bad from their past. If they don't want to talk to you about their tattoo or you see that they are uncomfortable, don't press them."
"I'll remember that."
"Okay. Now come here," he prompted, raising his arm to indicate where he wanted it.
Dean slid down the bed, rolled over onto his stomach, and moved in close to Alpha by draping one arm, the one with the beer, across his chest, resting his elbow on the pillow behind his back and propping his chin with the other. He looked up at him with a dumbfounded 'Now what?' He half expected Cas to grab his ass or dig his fingers into his hair and pull him in for a kiss, but instead he slipped his hand under Dean's arm so he could rest it on his chest and spread his fingers, making a good show of the tattoo.
"Just so you understand, having a high rank," he tapped the ring on the star on his collarbone, "doesn't automatically mean having some territory under your control. Ranks are awarded for special merit or years of loyalty. To be put in charge of a territory is its own reward," he explained, curling his finger with the tattoo. "The fact that I have a territory entrusted to me by my Pakhams is represented by those interlocking rectangles. And the Greek letter A in the center of them does indeed signify that I am the Alpha. It's a warning to those who can't smell my scent or see my fangs.
"Right. I see... It says something along the lines of 'This Alpha has territory, and if you're facing him, you're probably in his territory and should be very careful.'"
"Basically." He nodded.
"And the stars on the other hand...?" He slid his gaze slightly to Castiel's right hand, which held the can of beer. "They look just like the ones on your chest."
The alpha lifted his hand and rotated it so he could better show his fingers to Dean.
"It's not very practical to have to strip down to half your body every time you want to show someone proof of your status, don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow tellingly before looking down at his own hand. "There are more types of tattoos that are placed in visible places and tell how high up the person is. I chose this one because it's the most obvious. True insiders know that I would face death for lying about my rank, but police investigators, the FBI, Interpol... they all think I'm just a heron and someone else is really in control of our New York territory. Someone hidden in the background."
"They really think that?" He asked skeptically; Castiel nodded slightly. "They're idiots. Anyone who sees you must know right away who's boss."
Cas cocked his head to the side and squinted a little, almost suspicious.
"I'm not sure I take that as flattery. It almost sounded like you were calling me a primitive knothead.
"You are... sometimes. But don't worry, Alpha, it's not that bad with you," he assured him condescendingly, cocking a flirtatious eyebrow.
Alpha bared his teeth in a small snarl, his hand landing on Dean's ass with a loud pop, Cas' strong fingers digging not only into the flesh but between his cheeks.
"Hey! Sensitive spots!" He complained dramatically, but in complete contradiction to his rebuke he wiggled his ass against the hand that held him.
"You're really cheeky. I like it. It's refreshing," Alpha pointed out, far less glibly than Dean would have expected. In fact, it sounded so serious that it was starting to embarrass him again.
He preferred to look down at Alpha's chest, especially the large tattoo of a cross. He ran his little finger over the intricate tangle of ornaments that made up the cross, leaving a damp trail of condensation dripping from the beer can. He looked up in mute question.
"The cross is a sign of defiance against the social order and resistance to the ruling classes. It is also supposed to bring protection and good fortune."
"The Virgin Mary and the church too?" He asked, this time looking up. He remembered well the tattoos he had seen on Pyotr and Yuri's chests the day he had met them both and hadn't been stupid enough not to make the connection.
"Da. And it's no ordinary church, but the Church of Vasily the Blessed, which stands on Red Square in Moscow," he corrected him gently, then took a sip and crushed the can with one squeeze. "In the same place... that is, anywhere on the chest... you can also see the likenesses of Lenin and Stalin."
"I don't know Lenin, but Stalin... he was the dictator, wasn't he?"
"Lenin was the politician, philosopher and revolutionary who de facto founded the Soviet Union, and Stalin is one of Russia's greatest leaders, during whose reign my country achieved great political influence, a boom in science and became a nuclear power. Many Russians consider them both to be the founding fathers of modern Russia. They are something like your Washington and Lincoln."
"Is that why someone gets their faces tattooed on their chests?"
"Some probably do, but..." he paused long enough to reach to his side, bring a pack of cigarettes to his mouth, from which he pulled one out with his lips with bravado, then lit up. He slowly blew out a puff before continuing, "During Stalin's regime, destroying statues, paintings and other likenesses of Soviet politicians was considered treason. And treason is still punishable by death in our country. Many believed that if they had Stalin's or Lenin's portrait tattooed on their chest, members of the firing squad would refuse to shoot them because they themselves feared punishment. Of course, it didn't work. Cleansing Russia of the scum of the nation was more important than a hundred destroyed portraits, and men of my kind... criminals, homosexuals and maladjusted Alphas were the main game."
"Sounds pretty bad."
"It's sixty years of history." The Alpha shrugged casually, took a drag from his cigarette and puffed another puff, then tapped the fingers of the hand holding the cigarette on his shoulder. "These tattoos are important, too. They vary in detail, but they are always inspired by officer's epaulets from the days of Tsarist Russia. It's a bit of irony and mockery. The army has always been our enemy. The Tsarist and later Soviet officers literally made a sport of hunting Vors, and nothing made them as angry as when they stripped a fresh corpse of one of our own and he had tattoos on his shoulders with patterns of the highest military ranks. We also get military decorations tattooed for the same reason." The small, amused smile that curled the corners of his mouth made it clear that he didn't just enjoy talking about tattoos. He was also amused by their meaning. He let out another puff of smoke. "Anyway, show respect and reverence to those who wear them. They're... the best designation in English is Lieutenant, and they're ranked just a little lower than me. One of them, for example, is Pyotr."
"Yeah, that's what I thought..." he grumbled half to himself, then caught Alpha's slightly questioning look. "I mean, he's a Beta, and I think he's a nice enough guy, but it knocks the respect out of him. And I've seen him with your other men. It's clear he commands them."
"Yes, Pyotr is my right hand man. I trust him, and you can too... within reason, of course. Unthinking trust is dangerous. Remember that, will you?" He prompted, ruffling his hair as he spoke.
"I know," he replied, and yeah, a slightly condescending look crept onto his face. "I'm not some gullible Omega, okay? I only trust a few people, like our Alpha, Sammy, and... you, of course," he added, which was technically true, but he said it out loud more just to see the satisfied look on the Alpha's face. He lowered his eyes with a rush of further discomfort at this stupidly serious and emotional bullshit, and at that moment his gaze rested on the top half of Alpha's left arm, which Dean had wrapped around his back.
The tattoo he had there looked like a huge ink blotch, spilling all the way down to his elbow while seeming to continue across his armpit to his left hip. The ink seemed to have tentacles a bit, and in one place, on the front of his arm, the stain had a large mouth full of thin sharp needle-like teeth. As he sipped from his beer, he ran the fingers of his free hand thoughtfully over the open mouth of the monster that adorned Cas's arm.
"And this?" He looked up at him questioningly.
"Monsters, demons, wild beasts... bears are especially popular with us Russians... all signs of strength and danger. They are meant to inspire fear and respect, and to warn that the one who wears them is a dangerous man," Cas explained, a subtle hint of disdain in his voice. He took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke come out of his mouth along with his next words:
My experience is that the more ink monsters someone has on their body, the more they fear the real ones. If you don't have the strength here," he tapped his fingers on his chest, "and the spark here," he touched his pinky to his temple, "even the biggest tattoo of the scariest monster won't lend you strength, courage, or respect. In the end, it's just ink..."
"Yet you got one tattooed too," he pointed out, well aware that it was a bit of treading on thin ice.
The alpha flicked an ice-cold eye at him, the corners of his lips tightening a little and the lines of his cheeks stiffening, making him look slightly irritated. He took a drag from his cigarette with a jisot of vigor, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling with enough force to give the impression of being scattered by a missile.
"Quit, that's true," he said after that brief yet long pause. "But only one, one that has haunted me all my life. It's my private..." he paused, wrinkling his nose in exasperation, "... I can't think of the right word in English right now... a bukka... a malevolent creature that goes about at night waiting for wandering children to eat them. In your culture, it lives under the bed, in the closet, or in the dark hallway when you have to go to the bathroom at night."
"Boogeyman."
"Yes, that's the word." He nodded, taking a last drag on his nearly-smoked cigarette, and finally smothered it in the ashtray. "Used to be in my nightmares. I used to be terrified of him, but now," his hand moved a little, "we're good friends."
"You were afraid of the boogeyman? You?" He asked with some disbelief, because it was hard to imagine this particular Alpha being afraid of anything, even as a child.
Castiel raised his eyebrows slightly.
"I was a little boy, too. We all were, even the greatest of human monsters were innocent children once upon a time," he stated almost philosophically before simply changing the subject. "Remember this tattoo especially well," he urged, once again running his left hand under Dean's arm to give him a good view of his arm with the tattooed dagger that took up almost his entire forearm. "A dagger, a knife, a gun, a skull, an executioner's axe, a hooded reaper... all such tattoos, especially placed in visible areas like the forearm, the neck, or even the face, signify that you're dealing with someone who is capable and, more importantly, willing to kill. And I don't mean someone who has killed once, but a murderer who has sent many souls to eternity and will do it again without remorse." He braced the knuckles of his hand against Dean's chin, forcing him to lift his head a little. "If you see a tattoo like that on anyone other than my men, and especially if you're alone at the time, I want you to avoid it. And if you can't, at least don't provoke him."
He shifted a little to regain his balance so that he could take Alpha's hand in his and place it away from his chin. He looked thoughtfully at the dagger that adorned his forearm. Like all his tattoos, it was rendered in black, but very precisely. The hilt was made of similar intricate ornaments like a cross, which Dean knew was more likely to be Cas's weakness than a tattoo tradition, and the top of the hilt was topped with a brilliant diamond. The tattoo didn't look harmless, of course, but it wasn't scary either, perhaps because the dagger was actually... beautiful. Creepy might have been what it represented, but it really wasn't, because he knew what the Alpha was. One thing nagged at his mind, though.
"Don't all your men have tattoos like that?" He asked, because asking if they were all slayers was a bit... yeah, well, it just wouldn't be very polite.
"No," Cas surprised him with the immediate answer. "I'm not going to lie and say my men don't kill. Killing for the Brotherhood or for your brothers to protect them is the honorable thing to do, and everyone is willing to do it sooner or later. Loyalty, devotion... we value that. But killing on command doesn't earn you a tattoo like that. That's reserved for those of us for whom death has become a livelihood, or for the real killers who killed before they joined us."
Killing to protect the Bratva and their brothers... that sounded a lot like what Dad had said about deploying in combat. He talked about how sitting in a small tent with a bunch of sweaty guys for weeks would bond you together, and that because of that bonding, the one who was initially afraid to shoot would end up fighting the bravest for his brothers in combat.
He knew that idea... protecting a fellow soldier's brother... Hell, their Alpha had pounded it into his head as far back as his memory went, always telling him that he and Sam were brothers and good soldiers and that Dean, being senior in rank, had to look out for his little private. But somehow he couldn't wrap his thoughts around the whole comparison. Soldiers, especially Marines, were good, honorable men who fought for a good cause and for their country. Castiel - no matter how he felt about him - and his men were criminals and murderers, inherently dishonorable men who couldn't be as loyal to one another. Or could they? Jacob had spoken of that, too. That the Bratva is like a family and the other members are like brothers.
There was a loud sniffle above his head and Castiel lifted his head a little off the pillow to get closer to Dean's scent.
"Your scent has changed..." the Alpha remarked half-loudly, as if he were saying it more to himself, "but you don't smell of fear..."
He looked up from the dagger.
"Why should I be afraid? I know you've killed. I saw it, remember?"
"Yes. I won't forget our first meeting," he nodded, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. "I really don't scare you...?"
There was a small question mark at the end of Alpha's words, as if it were half statement and half question. A damn hard question. Yeah, he understood, sort of in the abstract, that others could be afraid of people who killed someone. That knowledge alone could be scary, but Dean had grown up knowing their dad had killed. So this didn't scare him at all.
But yeah, Alpha Castiel could be really scary at certain times. He scared the shit out of him. In fact, he was the only one of the three Alphas who could scare him and who he submitted to willingly, without having to fake it. The others were his dad and Bobby, which was... a little unsettling, and he certainly didn't want to think about it right now, but he had to admit that it was true. Maybe that little bit of fear was part of a proper Alpha/Omega relationship. What he certainly knew was that the Alphas who could scare him were also the ones he respected, who he had respect for, and who he knew would protect him. Just like... Castiel. He was perfectly capable of protecting him, and Dean didn't even need his stupid inner Omega to tell him that.
"No," he replied, knowing Castiel wanted to hear it.
Blue eyes squinted.
"And if I told you it was my job to take care of the obstacles, and not just the ones that stood in the way of the Brotherhood?"
He didn't have to think too hard to understand. And while he was aware that it would have caused fear or resentment in anyone else, things just started to make sense to him, which was why it actually calmed him down.
"The less reason I have to fear you," he replied quite honestly.
Now the Alpha looked surprised, almost startled.
"I took money for killing often innocent people. To do something like that, you must not care about human life and you must forget all morality. Doesn't that horrify you too?"
"Not being afraid... It's not about morality," he replied, to which Castiel commented with a look of disbelief and partial disapproval.
Dean decided to show him his point.
Propping himself up on his arms, he reached over the Alpha to set the can of beer on the corner of the bedside table and then, after a quick glance at Castiel's face - checking that the Alpha was just watching him calmly and a little curiously - he swung himself onto his lap. Cas didn't hesitate for a moment, placing his large, tattooed hands on Dean's protruding pelvic bones and moving his hips so that Dean was really sitting on his lap, cock on cock, rather than on his thighs where he'd been aiming before.
Blue eyes squinted, his lips curled into a pleasurable smile, and a musky aroma seeped through the sweetly tart scent. It was enough to make Dean feel a pleasurable stab of arousal, and his insides clenched at the realisation that all he had to do was shift just a little and Alpha's big cock would slide right between his still wet cheeks. The thought was unnerving, but also tempting, and he shifted his hips a little and rubbed himself at least against the thick thighs beneath him, coaxing a satisfied purr from Cas's throat.
He licked his lips and stopped squirming.
Shit...
That's not why he was doing this. He wanted to prove to Castiel that he trusted him or something. It was one of those annoyingly complex mental shit that both had and had nothing to do with his inner Omega and that he just didn't want to dissect too much, even in his own brain. He was always afraid of where it might go. He could end up being this brooding nerd with no friends who couldn't even have fun, just like Sammy. And that was the last thing he wanted.
Don't wallow in it, Winchester, just don't wallow in it and do what you were going to do, he admonished himself, before gripping Alpha's wrists and lifting them up until he could press them into the pillow. He had expected at least some resistance, but Cas had actually given in without anything resembling defiance. He didn't even flinch. He didn't clench his hands into fists. He let them loose. He just squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side a little.
"What are you doing, Dean?" Alpha asked in a matter-of-fact tone, and only with that did the bitterness seep into his scent.
"Proving you my truth," he replied, looking straight into his eyes from above, chin lifted and expression calm and steady. He could even be proud of himself for being able to suppress the urge to immediately tilt his head to the side, so that his desire to submit didn't even make it into his scent. In fact, he had managed to dominate Castiel quite well.
It was a surprisingly long time before Castiel lifted his chin and his hands finally clenched into fists so Dean could feel the muscles and tendons working under his palms.
"What truth?"
"That you're fucking good at controlling yourself," he replied, conjuring a smile along with the way he relaxed his shoulders and the grip around his wrists, hoping it would calm Case down again. "I'm Omega, keeping you in check, trying to dominate you. Any other Alpha would have immediately started growling and trying to throw me off, but not you. You want to do it, I can smell it in your scent, but you can control yourself. And that's what it's all about. Not about morals, but about self-control," he explained, letting go for good and moving his hands to the cross tattoo and his weight back onto Castiel's thighs. "In order to become a hitman, you had to learn self-control, because... man... I imagine it's a lot like hunting, and once an Alpha starts hunting, he's hard to control. But you did it. And that's why..." he leaned forward a little, lowering his voice involuntarily, "that's why I don't have to worry about you killing me in some stupid tantrum. No. When you want to kill me, you'll have a rational reason to do it, which I'll know in advance, and I'll get the fuck out of your way."
Castiel took his face in his hands and ran his thumb over his lips. He had this strange expression at that moment, awfully similar to something Dean would dare call devotion, and he traveled all over Dean's face with that expression, as if he wanted to memorize every line of his face before finally looking him in the eye again.
"If I ever doubt His wisdom for a moment," he glanced down at the cross that dangled from Dean's neck, took it in his hand, ran his thumb over it, and held his gaze for a long moment, then looked up. "All I have to do is look at you and all doubt will be gone. You're perfect for me," he added, tugging a little on the chain on which the cross hung. Just lightly, but just enough for Dean to understand and lean in.
He expected Cas to kiss him, but instead he just rested his forehead against his, and the quiet sigh he let out when their foreheads touched turned into a deep growl. Dean tensed a little, because it was all so strange and unnerving, but Castiel's growl and heavy scent was like a balm, slowly easing him muscle by muscle until he lowered himself onto the tattooed chest and pressed his whole body against Alpha's. It felt so good to drown in their combined scent, to hear the double growls and just enjoy the weight of strong arms wrapped around his back. It almost seemed real, like Castiel really meant his words, but the idea that he really did was so absurd it made him want to laugh out loud.
And that was a terribly stupid idea. No, seriously, only an idiot would start laughing bitterly when he was in bed with a naked Alpha who might as well take it personally and make it a pretty good reason for murder... well, not really, but we get the idea.
He bit back the telltale cringe of laughter and lifted himself up a little to look into Alpha's satisfied face. He waited until Castiel opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows a little questioningly.
"I have a question..." he began, keeping his voice as lighthearted as possible. "Why the hell do you have a naked woman tattooed on your stomach? Am I supposed to be jealous?" He turned it all into a joke, just ending this stupidly intimate moment.
Castiel blinked in confusion, then gave a short, half-loud laugh. In fact, he barely made a sound, just the chest Dean was lying on shuddered.
"Are you really planning on mapping all my tattoos?" He asked amusedly, to which Dean just pouted his lips eloquently. Cas let out a resigned sigh, flicking an indulgent eye at him and moving his hand from Dean's back to his own hip. "You're going to see this tattoo quite a bit. It's not a real woman. It's just a concept representing our life as our only lover to whom we are absolutely faithful. A bond of true love that not even the love of a real woman can break."
He didn't even have to ask if Omega males were included. Of course they were. Dean just knew that if the Alpha was given the choice between him and the Bratva and his brothers who were a pack to him, he would choose the latter. Also, why would he choose Dean, right?
Oh well... he wanted to lighten the situation and instead he just got himself into more and possibly deeper shit. Nice work, Winchester, he complimented himself ironically, and since he didn't know what to do with his eyes and didn't want the Alpha to know what he was thinking by his expression - he had this fucking unpleasant ability to read Dean's mind - he glanced at the tattoo they were talking about. He examined it more closely than he had before. Each inked line formed an image of a young, slender woman, probably Beta or Omega, because her cock wasn't hanging below her belly. She was kneeling with her legs spread apart and ropes tied to a large sword, her hands were tied to some kind of pole that ran across her shoulder blades, and on the ends of the pole were what... looked like bowls of scales or something. The remnants of the torn clothing she was wearing made it look like it had been a long dress before, and a piece was tied in her mouth instead of a gag. Or maybe it was a scarf, you couldn't tell. Her eyes were closed and her face was surprisingly calm, almost peaceful and resigned for the position she was in. Lascivious, with her legs spread, both holes fucked and cum running down her legs.
“It's pretty… explicit,” he said, glad to have found a more appropriate name and looked up at Castiel's calm face.
"Far from it," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, almost laughing. “For example, I knew one guy who had a naked woman tattooed right on his dick. Against such excesses, my allegory of Justice is what it is; bound, humiliated and fucked by those with power and money, actually quite tame."
When Alpha mentioned it, yeah, he could see it now. Sword, scales, closed eyes representing blindness. It was Justice portrayed as a porn star from some hardcore video. And just as he said, she was humiliated and abused because that was the way the world was. Fucking unfair. Dean knew about it, and when it came down to it, he felt the injustice even now, when he looked again into Castiel's calm face and his staring eyes. Alpha was bloody handsome and he was smart, funny, deep-minded and that shit and it was so bloody unfair that they couldn't be... What, Winchester? You could hardly walk with him on the waterfront, hand in hand, like some teenager in love, even if it meant that you - at best - were not prepared instead of a handsome, mafia omega husband.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed his hip, and before he knew it, he was lying on his back, the Alpha bending over him.
“You have one more question,” he said, running a hand over Dean's side.
“Just one?”
“For now,” he replied, digging his fingers a little into Dean's muscular thigh. “And probably for the rest of the night, because I have other plans than to talk. But sometime later… if you still want to, I'll tell you the story of each of my tattoos. Now choose the last one.”
If he had only one question, he was going to think twice and choose the most interesting one. And that he had a lot to choose from. On his left side Alpha had a column of densely written Latin text, closed eyes on both pelvic bones, with the Greek letter A at one corner and B at the other. There was a similar eye on Castiel's back. Then cards and a heart with a dagger. If he could notice, he had an angel with broken wings on his right thigh, something that looked like giant scratches on his left, and other stars on his knees. He may have had some other tattoos on his feet, but he didn't notice them or they may have been covered with socks that he didn't take off.
Then there was the slightly crooked cat on the upper part of the right arm, which was not very interesting. It was one of those tattoos that he already knew the meaning of and judging by the way Cas moved, he could be a really good thief. Probably a long time ago, because the tattoo was faded, obviously old and definitely not made by the same person as, for example, the woman on Cas's stomach.
He slid his gaze down to the forearm of the Alpha's hand resting on Dean's hip. First, of course, he saw a tattoo on the top of his forearm. It was actually quite... cute when one dared to say that a Russian mafia boss tattoo was cute. It was some small bird, all fluffy and sitting on a flowering branch that was also covered with snow. He would definitely be interested in what it means, because he could not imagine anything that could represent it, but he was much more attracted by the tattoo on the inside of Castiel's forearm, mainly because of all that he had, it was the only color. More specifically, it was black and blood red, and featured a large nail driven into a really detailed, gaping, bleeding wound right in Alpha's wrist. Blood dripped from the wound, drop by drop. Dean counted exactly six perfectly drawn drops of blood.
He wrapped his fingers around the tattooed forearm and ran his thumb over a few drops of blood that ran almost to the bend of the elbow.
"This..." he finally decided on the only color.
Castiel gave his tattoo a glimpse.
“One of Christ's wounds. Crucifixion. It symbolizes my repentance for the souls I sent to eternity for the proverbial thirty pieces of silver."
Six drops, so that meant…
"Six people?”
“Sixty-three,” he corrected him; Dean looked up from his tattoo in surprise, for it was more than he had expected. Castiel tilted his head from side to side, narrowing his eyes a bit and the weight of his body stopped pressing down on Dean as he lifted off of him more as if to give him space.
The number was slightly larger than he had expected, and he was most concerned that it didn't scare him as much as it should have.
“Did you kill sixty-three people?” he asked for reassurance, and when he said it out loud, he himself was surprised at how calm he sounded. Sure, he could justify his tranquillity by simply imagining that it was too abstract to imagine someone killing so easily, but for Alpha Castiel, it wasn't an abstract concept at all.
“No, that's what I was paid for.”
He licked his lips.
"Ah.."
Castiel's eyes narrowed.
“You don't look scared even now.”
“I'm not scared,” he replied, and it was absolutely true. Hell, it was a lot more true than he wanted to admit. The Alpha looked down at him, his nostrils spreading as he tasted the air. Dean could sense what she was smelling as he could feel the sweet Omega arousal creeping into his own scent. Yeah, he was totally screwed up because his Omega was happy. To hear that he had killed so many people was a twisted affirmation that he was exactly the Alpha he needed, and it didn't matter that in his head... in his heart... he morally disagreed, because murder was wrong. Or at least murdering people who had never done anything because he could imagine that there were people in the world who didn't deserve to live. The problem was that maybe the Alpha from the arcade wasn't such a person.
Alpha's hand slid at his side all the way down to his thigh, then slid to his ass. Cas leaned closer again, a jagged smile splitting his face into an expression that was both frightening and fascinating. And as the air around him began to spread with a musky smell, it was clear how much Dean's morbid enthusiasm pleased him. And it wasn't something he wanted because… it just wasn't right.
"Shall we get something to eat?" he blurted out the first thing he had in mind, just to avoid what would be inevitable. Jesus. Shit... he couldn't fuck Cas right now. It kind of sealed that there was nothing wrong with the fucking sense of security he had in the hands of the killer and that he wasn't wired wrong when he thought of things like how cool it would be to get a whole litter of puppies with that killer.
Castiel froze.
“Chto…?” came out of him in a tone full of confusion, and it looked a little like he'd just woken up or something.
"I am hungry. I would have something small, sweet, like ice cream or cookies. Don't you have anything?”
“You want to eat… now?!” he said the last word with clear irritation in his voice.
"Yes. Now, in a moment, all the time. I'm a growing boy. I need a lot of food,”he answered as carefree as he could, wiggling his eyebrows significantly, and when he mentioned the growing boy with some relief, he found Alpha paused even more and pulled away a little, while his scent filled with confusion that dampened the excitement. Now it was clear that he would not want to continue. Dean, however, just to be sure, continued fluently: "Come on, Alpha, feed your young Omega..."
The Alpha responded with a vague growl that sounded irritable, and he rose to his knees before patting Dean on the knee.
“Fine. Let's get something to eat. Better that than having to listen to these complaints,” he said with a certain sharpness in his voice and face, but it really only lasted a moment before his features softened again and turned into resignation. “I have some ice cream and cookies, also sandwiches, peanut butter and jam. I'll be waiting in the kitchen while you find your slippers so you don't walk around barefoot and your kidneys catch cold.”
Dean blinked in disbelief.
"Are you kidding? You've got heated floors.”
"It does not matter. Find your slippers anyway,” he ordered uncompromisingly, but he was already getting out of bed.
“Sure, Alpha,” he snapped with proper audacity, throwing on a puckered face that he held tightly while he watched Castiel pull on his boxers and disappear into the locker room. At that moment, he let the muscles in his face fade and the frowning expression faded. He rolled to the edge of the bed, put his feet on the floor, and stared at the carpet ornaments.
“Dean?”
He glanced sharply over his shoulder. Alpha had just emerged from his dress and was wearing a black terrycloth robe that Dean already knew. He had it loosely draped over his shoulders and just slightly tied around his waist, so that along with the white boxers and black socks tucked into his slippers, he gave a kind of funny and actually quite homey impression that lifted Dean's corners in a natural smile.
"Slippers. Now,”Cas did not let take away this fixed need to stretch Dean's shoes. “I'll be in the kitchen,” he added before disappearing through the bedroom door into the next room.
Dean got up and, like a small, obedient omega, went to the bathroom to get those stupid shoes, even pulled on his sweatpants on his way back across the bedroom, and followed Alpha.
Notes:
And a few illustrations at the end - link
Chapter 27
Notes:
Thanks everyone for the comments and sorry that the chapters are coming so slowly. For many reasons I don't have time to write now.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He found Castiel sitting at the table, his chair turned a little to the side so he could stretch his legs out comfortably, holding his cell phone in one hand and fiddling with a pack of cigarettes with the other, lying on the table next to the lighter, ashtray and other cell phone. When Dean approached him from behind, he looked up from the screen, but he didn't hide the phone or look concerned. Why he was so calm dawned on Dean as soon as he leaned back against the backrest and peered over his shoulder. The cell phone screen was full of Russian. He could only guess that the Alpha was reading some chat conversation.
"Do you want to order some delivery?" Cas asked, setting the phone down on the table, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist and pulling him close.
Automatically, he put his arm around his shoulders before pausing briefly at how homely it all felt. They were in a kitchen that might as well have been both of theirs, Alpha hugging him and asking about pizza delivery or Chinese food like they'd done it a hundred times before. In response, his stupid Omega instincts kicked in and he felt these urges, like gathering all the food and feeding his Alpha. He'd always found that part of his Omega a bit silly and occasionally difficult, but more or less useful. Keeping track of what to feed Sammy, and most of the time his dad, was simply a role that belonged to him in their little pack, and being an Omega was rather helpful in this rare instance.
"No. I'll make you my specialty. I call it Dean's midnight snack."
Castiel raised both eyebrows in surprise.
"Are you going to cook?"
He wouldn't exactly call it cooking, but technically he was planning to feed his Alpha something he could sort of create, so it was close to cooking and certainly satisfying enough for his inner Omega.
"Yeah, sure," he replied with complete sovereignty, extricating himself from the already loosening grip on Cas's arm.
Confidently, he made his way to the kitchen, but at the same time moving with deliberate caution so as not to irritate Case with anything unnecessary. Not out of fear, but out of respect. After all, this was Castiel's lair and his stuff, and as everyone knew, Alphas were particularly sensitive about their lairs. But when he cast a fleeting glance in Cas's direction after a moment, he could read nothing but curiosity and that incredibly intense interest on his face. No irritation or displeasure at the fact that he was moving through his territory with the same confidence as if it were his own.
It made him feel more confident, so he relaxed more and opened the fridge.
He immediately grinned.
The sight of shelves full of cartons of beer and a door full of beer bottles didn't really surprise him. Oddly enough, among all the booze there were also several bottles of various pickled vegetables (cucumbers, small onions, capers, peppers, and what looked like squash), thick slices of meat jelly in a clear box, things like ketchup and a few other condiments, and milk stuffed in the fridge door. Okay, that might come in handy. He pulled it out, unscrewed it, and took an expert sniff. Surprisingly, it smelled fresh. Given the contents of the fridge, he hadn't expected it.
He left the milk in his hand and opened the freezer, because Cas was talking about ice cream and that was a necessary ingredient for his specialty. There was some frozen food in the freezer and two packs of ice cream. One package was cream and honey and the other was chocolate. Yeah, Castiel had as wild a taste in ice cream as he did in dressing.
"I was kind of expecting vodka here," he remarked cheerfully as he reached for the cream ice cream.
"Only a pig leaves vodka in the freezer," came a calm voice behind him, followed by the click of a lighter.
He cast a disapproving glance over his shoulder. This was the third cigarette in... how long? Maybe not even three quarters of an hour. Of course, Dean himself wasn't bothered, at least not at the moment, because the air conditioning was great and the smell of cigarettes was just a subtle undertone beneath all the Alpha scent soaking into the things around him. It bothered him a little in bed, but at least Cas tried to blow the worst of the smell away. So that wasn't the point. He just thought that so many cigars was just too much.
Castiel gave him a disinterested look, so if he understood the mute rebuke, he didn't care. Still, he couldn't forgive himself for frowning. But he decided not to say anything, not wanting to ruin the pleasant peace, and went back to looking for the ingredients.
He quickly scanned the shelves, making a mental picture of how the kitchen was arranged. It was bigger than what he was used to, but actually emptier. There weren't many things in the cabinets, and when there were, it was dishes. Pretty, shiny glasses of thin glass, plates and bowls of fine china with gold rims or, conversely, of solid cooking glass. No plastic or even paper utensils anywhere, which were a common part of the Winchester family's table settings. Eventually, though, he did find a plastic bowl and one cabinet with everything he needed; chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter, jam, and several kinds of breakfast cereal. He chose Cookie Crunch because they had the prettiest packaging (understandably, the other ones didn't have a bear on the packaging, but boring things like milk jugs and handfuls of strawberries. Who would want to eat something with packaging like that? I mean, there was a risk of bran or added fiber).
He scooped half a package of cookies into a bowl, threw in the rest of the Cookie Crunch, a few big spoonfuls of sweet peanut butter, and a whole jar of yams - it was so ridiculously small, in fact, that it wouldn't be enough for Sammy's breakfast - poured in some milk, and then most of the ice cream. He left some at the bottom just to be polite. Finally, he microwaved it for 30 seconds and...
He triumphantly placed his specialty on the table in front of Alpha, and sat down across from him.
Castiel put out his unsmoked cigarette first, then leaned over the bowl, taking a moment to survey the contents before, head tilted in disbelief and a furrow between his brows, he looked up at Dean.
"I know, I know, it doesn't look like much. But if I make this...' He shoved one last cookie into the pile of half-melted ice cream to make it look a little more luxurious. "See? Perfect. Trust me, you'll love it," he assured the still incredulous Alpha, and to back up his words, he scooped up a hefty portion and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and purred in pleasure. It was just perfect. The ice cream was just soft enough to melt on his tongue and the cookies were crunchy. It could still use some M&Ms, but you couldn't have everything, could you?
He opened his eyes and met Cas's intent gaze.
"Hmm... Goodie."
It was obvious that the Alpha was still not convinced, but he took the spoon Dean had brought for him from the table and scooped up one of the smaller bites, which he did pop into his mouth after a brief appraising glance. Dean watched with tense anticipation as he slowly rolled the ice cream around in his mouth, his expression changing from incredulous to surprised, and finally as every feature of his face relaxed and his eyelids drooped contentedly.
A sense of pride washed over him and he smiled wryly at the same time.
"Told you... everyone loves my specialty."
The alpha gave him an amused look.
"You're right. Surprisingly, it's really good," he replied, scooping up another spoonful, holding it up to his eyes and measuring it intently. "I'm just afraid it won't do much for my aching gallbladder, and I might need some digestive soda."
Wait, what? He frowned at the bowl. Sure, it was a whole packet of ice cream, and if he ate it on its own it would probably give him a bit of a stomachache, but it wasn't exactly like ice cream could do anything to Cas. He didn't have like... diabetes or anything, did he? And he wasn't even old enough to have a heart attack from junk food, right? He was only 40-something and pretty damn fit. Hot, actually, with all those muscles and tattoos and Alpha strength. Okay, there was that little problem with the soft dick... Suddenly he realized. Alpha was just kidding him.
"You're kidding me, aren't you?" he squinted suspiciously, pointing his spoon at him to emphasize his words.
"Yes. You're not the only one who can make disturbing notes about your age," he pointed out with a significantly raised eyebrow, whereupon his expression changed, his eyes squinting a little and his head tilting to the side as his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. "I didn't expect it to really scare you, though."
"It didn't scare me," he retorted immediately, because it didn't. He wasn't really scared, just maybe a little worried at first. But hey! Who could blame him? He didn't actually know how old Cas was, and he was a goddamn Omega. As much as he hated it, similar stupid caring urges would occasionally break through. "I was just a little..." he made a vague gesture. "You know? I just got flustered. I wouldn't want to have the entire Russian Mafia on my ass because their boss had a heart attack after the bowl of ice cream I served him. That would be a pretty stupid way to die."
Castiel cocked his head to the side.
"You didn't really think ice cream would kill me, did you?"
"No, not really, I just thought that at your age - " he paused. Okay, that probably wasn't the happiest comment. He took a breath to try and brush it off, or at least explain that he hadn't meant it literally. Rather, he was just thinking that, like their dad... OK, not that either. He'd make the whole thing worse by comparing Castiel to their Alpha and the amount of pain and indigestion pills his dad managed to shove down his throat when he was having a bad week.
"How old do you think I am, exactly?" Alpha beat him to the question, and though it was said with a bit of annoyance, he was grateful for it. At least it kept him from slapping something stupid.
"I don't know... forty or so," he replied with feigned indifference.
"I'm forty-two."
"That's what I guessed!" He exclaimed triumphantly, pointing his spoon at him. "Actually, it was something between thirty-five and forty-five..."
"So you thought I was either a very scruffy thirty-five-year-old or a fairly well-preserved forty-five-year-old?"
"Yeah... I mean, no..."
"I'm not well kept?"
"Yeah, you're... actually, no... I mean, yes, but I don't mean that in the sense of being old... Sure, you're older, but not old, and when we talk about well-preserved, it's not in the sense of still okay, but... damn! That's not what I was gonna say... I just... Jesus! I mean, you're fucking hot!" He blurted out, and fuck, fuck, fuck! He didn't want to say that out loud. It was a ridiculous and embarrassing thing to say to an Alpha like Castiel of all people, who had to be damn well aware of what he looked like and didn't need some sixteen year old telling him. Although... the smug smile that appeared on Cas's face suggested he was glad to hear it. But at the same time, there was amusement in that smile, and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "You're pulling my sock again!" He exclaimed angrily, and this time he didn't just point the spoon in his direction, he literally flicked it.
"Yes. And I won't apologize for it," he admitted, smugness personified, scooping up the ice cream and waving the spoon lightly in the air. "I like your clumsy flattery, and I enjoy embarrassing you. It's so easy."
He frowned. If that was what the Alpha wanted, fine.
"You know, this game can be played by two... daddy," he said the last word with due feeling.
"Daddy?" repeated Cas, his eyebrows raised a little in surprise.
"What? You don't like it when I call you Daddy? Because... you know... " He licked the ice cream off his spoon meaningfully, enjoying the way the Alpha watched every movement of his tongue. He blinked, lowering his gaze briefly, then looked at Case through his lashes and continued half-loudly, "You could very well be my daddy..."
The sweetness of the roasted cherries mingled with a hint of excitement, but Castiel kept his expression calm and neutral.
"I doubt..."
"I don't know... you're definitely old enough," he continued to tease, not sure if it was more fun or seduction, and popped another bite of ice cream into his mouth.
"Yeah, I do, but I'm not really worried about you being my son," he said unenthusiastically; Dean sent him a questioning look because he had just had a mouthful of ice cream. "Because tonight my cock was the closest to a womb I've ever been in my entire life."
He managed to slap his hand over his mouth just in time to keep from drenching the entire table with a sweet shower. And he had to swallow the remains of the melted ice cream and cookie chunks with difficulty through a throat that was half laughter and half embarrassment.
"Dude! You can't just say things like that with a completely stony face!" He exclaimed once he finally got enough air to speak at all.
"I can't?" He cocked his head to the side questioningly, lips twitching in an amused smile.
"No!" He snapped, puckering his lips, but the Alpha just continued to smile in amusement, so he rolled his eyes and snorted: "You really are incredible..."
"Oh yes. I've been told..." he stated casually. His lips were still in that small, amused smile, the lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes deep as his entire face was relaxed and his eyelids were lowered, so along with the way he was leaning comfortably against the edge of the table, holding his spoon loosely in his fingers, his scent laced with honey sweetness, he looked like a large but very content beast. There was still something dangerous emanating from him, and not just because Dean knew how dangerous he was, but because he was so...
He didn't think about what he was about to do, he just leaned across the table and gave the Alpha a quick kiss. When he pulled away, he caught a small glimmer of surprise in Cas's eyes, but it quickly turned to warmth. Alpha grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another, much longer kiss that tasted of ice cream and cookies and a hint of cigarettes.
"Hmm..." murmured Castiel contentedly as he parted their lips and pressed a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth before pulling away enough to look into each other's eyes, "I don't know about you, but I think I'll have something stronger to help me digest. Do you want some too?"
"Sure. I'll never turn down a drink."
"Okay. Over there... second shelf from the left, middle shelf," Cas instructed, letting go of his chin and nodding his head towards the kitchen behind Dean's back. "Grab the bottle that has a picture of a pear on it."
"I can read." He grinned, already realizing as he stood up that maybe that wasn't entirely true. Not all the beers in the fridge had labels in English, and when he opened the cabinet Cas had sent him to, he found that these bottles were similar. Sure, there were a few brands of whiskey and bourbon he was familiar with, but most of the bottles had names in Russian, and a few were in another language that didn't mean anything to him - hey, he'd stumbled into a few hours of Spanish and even French - but at least it was written in normal letters. In the end, he was glad he could navigate by the pictures.
He took out the bottle of pear, found two glasses, and returned to the table with his loot. He unscrewed the cap. The alcohol smelled strong, but really like pears. He poured a good inch into both glasses, but as he was about to slide one of them across the table to Cas, Alpha shot him an eloquent look and made a gesture like he was throwing something in the air. He rolled his eyes, but like an obedient Omega, he finished half the glass, which only the Alpha acknowledged with a quick smile and by reaching for the glass himself.
"Zdorov'ya i schast'ya tebe, moya dorogaya," with those words, spoken gently yet solemnly, he raised his glass really high
Dean had no idea what the content of the toast was, but he suspected it would be some silly flattery again. He refused to feel awkward, so he raised his hand in an equally sweeping gesture.
"Cheers!" He turned the shot into himself. The liquor was really strong, had a nice nip and warmth in his throat, and tasted of pears. He swiped at the saliva that filled his mouth and glanced over the rim of his glass at Alpha, who had just set down his own empty shot and was digging his spoon into the ice cream with even more enthusiasm than a moment ago. A satisfied smile lifted Dean's corners. His Omega purred blissfully. Seeing his Alpha enjoying the meal he had prepared for him was somehow satisfying.
There was a quiet 'ping' and one of the Alpha's phones lit up. He unconsciously slid his gaze to it and his smile instantly faded. On the screen was the name Balthazar. As he didn't remember the strange names of the people around Alpha, this one had stuck in his head perfectly. He resisted the urge to growl, but still felt his upper lip lift a little.
"Someone's texting you," he uttered, trying for a neutral tone but actually hearing the tension seeping into his voice himself. He was acting like some damn, jealous Omega jerk.
Cas gave the phone a cursory glance - which Dean sincerely appreciated - before returning to his ice cream.
"It's not important."
The phone pinged a second time. And it was him again.
"Looks like he can't do without you," he stated bitingly, stabbing his spoon into the ice cream a little more violently than he'd intended.
Alpha gave him a neutral look before setting his spoon down, brushing the non-existent crumbs from his hands and pulling his phone towards him. He didn't try to hide it in any way, simply opening the conversation right in front of Dean, so he didn't even feel bad when he used his would-be spy skills to read the message upside down: 'We have clients looking for you' was the first and the second read: It can't wait till you're done with Omega.
"Aren't you going?" he asked as Cas dropped the conversation and turned off the screen of his cell phone, which he then pushed aside. And he didn't quite care that he'd just convicted himself of reading Cas's messages.
"They'll get by without me," the Alpha replied, not even wincing at Dean's snipping, in fact his corners lifted in a smile and his features softened as he reached across the hundred to place a hand on his cheek. "I'm here with you now, and I don't want to go anywhere else."
At first he breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad his Alpha preferred to stay here with him. And then he leaned into Castiel's large, warm palm with a quiet growl. He rubbed his cheek, his chin, and finally his jaw against it in an attempt to leave his scent on the Alpha, to further solidify Cas' decision for him. From the other side, another growl joined his, a little deeper and more heartfelt, which quickly became a contented growl with which he lightly nuzzled his throat.
"Come here," Cas commanded in a deep voice.
Dean didn't even hesitate to obey.
He straddled his thigh and wrapped his arms around his neck. He straightened up and looked down at Cas's face spread in a toothy grin. It was a bit of an odd position, one he wasn't used to, but as Cas's hands ran over his naked back, he relaxed completely, forgetting that he felt strange. He just leaned down and nuzzled against the waiting mouth.
A soft melody echoed through the room.
The damn doorbell.
They broke away from the kiss at the same time and both turned their heads toward the door with a heartfelt grunt, as if that was the only way to ensure silence. Unfortunately, it didn't work and the ridiculous melody echoed again. No, seriously, couldn't it at least be a normal ringing?
"I have to go..." sighed Cas.
He commented with a disapproving frown, but knew he more or less had no choice, so he got up and let the Alpha go. He ignored the faintly spoken 'Wait here' that followed as soon as Cas stood up, of course. He let him go as far as the small dividing wall before quickly moving to the corner of the same wall and peering out from behind it..
Cas was already punching in the code to the door at that moment, and opened it to reveal Balthazar leaning casually against the door frame.
"What do you want, Balthazar?" He didn't get a friendly greeting from Beta.
"I told you there were clients waiting for you downstairs. Don't you read the messages?" Surprisingly, Beta was not intimidated by Castiel's obviously hostile attitude and the subtle growl in his voice. Plus, when he talked to Alpha, he sounded so... smooth and gentle and elegant or something. It was definitely the fault of that damn French accent, which was even more noticeable now than it had been earlier at the club.
"Not interested."
"They want Astria."
"Take care of it yourself," he rebuffed him a second time, and went to close the door, but Beta had the gall to catch it and didn't even lower his eyes when the Alpha bared his teeth and actually growled. He was allowing himself too much. He was daring like someone who was very close to Cas, which he was. Who knew how long they'd actually known each other. They were the same age, Dean could see that well now. They could have known each other for years, maybe even longer than Dean had even been alive. And they were so close that the Alpha tolerated his insolent behavior.
"The customers are Aaron and Sophie. Don't you care either way?"
As soon as Beta said those two names, Alpha's demeanor and attitude changed instantly. While the aggression didn't completely disappear, you could see how he violently let his shoulders slump, and when he spoke, he didn't sound half as dismissive as before:
"All right. But tell them I'll need three quarters of an hour."
"I'm sure they'll be happy to wait for you..." remarked Beta, whereupon he turned his eyes directly on Dean and gave him an intense look, as if perhaps he had something to tell him.
He was confused, but he didn't show it, just returned Beta's stare.
Castiel cast a quick glance over his shoulder.
"Pour them something on me for now," he added, slamming the door in Balthazar's face without anything else. Then he turned to Dean, and as he ascended the stairs he said: "I've got some work to do now. I have two guests to take care of. If you want," he stood in front of Dean, "stay here and wait for me, but..." he glanced at his watch, "I can be back in three hours or in the morning."
He glanced quickly at the closed door. In itself, he wouldn't mind staying here. There was a huge TV, a hot tub, a shower with massage jets, there was still a bucket of ice cream in the fridge, and Alpha's ever-present scent was soothing. But the thought of not being able to get out filled him with anxiety. He hated being cooped up somewhere, and he couldn't even get out of here through a window, because it was twenty bloody floors down to the street. If he had to get out, even for Sammy, he couldn't.
"Look, I'd better get back to the motel, if that's okay..." he replied, not wanting to seem like he didn't appreciate Alpha's willingness to let him stay. Because he did. He appreciated the fuck out of her. He wasn't stupid, and he understood that leaving someone in his lair wasn't just a matter of letting them stay. Yeah, maybe Cas was doing it because he just considered it a harmless distraction, but still...
"Okay. Get dressed and I'll send you down."
"Sounds like you want me out of here as soon as possible," he pointed out, half meaning it as a barbed joke.
"Yes, I do," Cas replied, much to his surprise.
"Wow... that wasn't the right answer, you know that, right?" he didn't forgive himself for another prod, mostly because he didn't want to admit how Alf's request had actually affected him.
"They're both Alphas, Dean. I need to get your scent off me before I meet them. I don't want them to know about you."
That hurt, but it wasn't a surprise. Clearly, he didn't want his clients or maybe even acquaintances or friends - it certainly sounded like he knew this Aaron and Sophie guy well - to know anything about him.
"Yeah, right. Got it."
Congratulating himself for managing to sound relaxed, he turned on his heel and headed for the bedroom. He had to put his things on in the bathroom. Definitely pants, socks, shoes and a jacket. He kind of hoped that he could keep the shirt that Cas gave him, so he wouldn't come to the motel with the odor of sex all over his clothes. It was bad enough that he smelled of it himself. Sam always wrinkled his nose when he came home smelling of someone else's arousal. And in Cas's case, the smell was somehow... stronger, earthier, more lasting, as if the scent of ripe Alpha had literally soaked into Dean's skin.
Cas followed him through the entire apartment, through the bedroom door and even into the bathroom. Like a hound dog. Or an Alpha possessed.
He kicked off his slippers, hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, and looked meaningfully in Alpha's direction.
"Will you watch me get dressed?" He asked with feigned horror and shyness. He still wasn't happy that Castiel was literally throwing him out, but at the same time he didn't want to spoil a nice evening. He could take it like a man. We'd had a good time, had a good midnight snack, and now we were all going home. It's cool, right? Of course it is.
Cas made one of his utterly bewildered expressions as he tilted his head to the side and parted his lips a little.
"No, I'll... wait outside." He gestured behind him with his thumb and was about to turn around when Dean grabbed his arm and made him turn back around again.
"Hey, relax, Alpha, it was just a joke. Feel free to stay here," he assured him with a laugh in his voice, which obviously pleased Case because his shoulders slumped and his expression softened, but he stepped aside anyway as if to give him some space. Dean grinned in appreciation and pulled down his sweatpants.
Even though he'd told him to stay, it was a little awkward and he felt a little embarrassed to be naked in front of him other than while fucking and producing a soft cock, but Castiel watched his every move with satisfied squinted eyes, giving him a boost of confidence. Playfulness, actually, because as he bent down to retrieve his jeans, he waved his ass in front of his eyes. The alpha let out an appreciative purr, but didn't move from his vantage point.
"Can I keep the t-shirt?" he asked, holding up the black T-shirt.
"Sure. You could have kept the sweatpants, too."
"No, it's okay, the t-shirt will do. Mine's a little... bleh."
Pointing out the stain on the t-shirt resulted in Cas walking over to one wall, pressing the top of one of the metal panels, and a laundry basket came out of the wall, releasing the heavy and not-quite-cherry scent of used clothing into the surrounding area. Up until then there hadn't been a hint of it, just the smell of liquid soap with a touch of honey that went well with Cas's natural scent. The basket had to be airtight. What he wouldn't give for a laundry basket like that. The two Alphas in the family could produce clothes that smelled so bad it was impossible to describe, and to be honest with himself, his didn't always smell like fresh pine and apple blossoms either. Taking a shower on the road when you slept in the car was sort of impossible, laundry wasn't something you could do every week either, and they only had to have as many clothes as they could take. Clean laundry once or twice a week was just the norm. And vacuum bags along with a car vacuum cleaner didn't solve everything.
"Man, this is something we desperately need," he commented on this cool gadget.
"Throw in a t-shirt and a shirt. I'll get it cleaned and the next time you come over, you can wear it."
Next time...? He eyed the beloved Guns N' Roses logo t-shirt. Then he looked questioningly at Alpha, and finally shoved his shirt, and indeed his shirt, into the laundry basket. And it was ridiculously satisfying to be able to add his musty filth to Alpha's musty filth and be so sure he'd be back here to pick up his clothes. Oh dear, Winchester, you are a hopeless romantic, he thought cheerfully and bitterly at the same time.
He quickly put on his shirt and then squatted down to pull on his socks. Meanwhile, Alpha closed the basket and returned to his place between the doors. He leaned against the frame, arms folded across his chest and legs crossed at the ankles. He gave him a quick glance away from trying to find the back of one of his socks.
"So... um... what kind of job do you think you have?" he broke the silence, partly because the silence made him nervous, but also because he really wanted to know what he was going to do.
"Nothing unusual. I'll just escort one of our girls to the customers and back again.”
He looked up at him in surprise. Of course, he wasn't surprised that Alpha and his organization made money off of prostitution. That was kind of normal. He was just amazed that someone so obviously high-ranking was still in the business of prostituting girls.
“The big boss too… well, you know…”
"Does he sell girls?" Cas finished for him with a raised eyebrow. "You don't have to be afraid to call things by the right name," he said, sounding almost like a reproach. “And no, I don't usually do that anymore, but Aaron is a special client. He is the brother of the police commissioner. I give him special care.”
He smirked and swung to his feet, picking up his jacket from the ground as he went.
“I understand. When the cops are making trouble, you threaten that the police commissioner's brother will end up behind bars because he pays prostitutes."
"Basically yes," Castiel agreed, following Dean as he took the initiative to head for the door while putting on his jacket. "Although for people like Aaron, paying for sex is more of a scandal than a reason for imprisonment. Half of Manhattan hires whores and Omegas, and many of the bosses are so stingy that they won't even pay for a girl from a high-quality escort agency, but drive their limousines to the loudest districts. I would like to have something more… interesting about him.”
"Like what?" he asked, taking off his slippers and standing there indecisive, not knowing what to do with them.
This time, Alpha sighed in frustration, took the shoes off his feet and put… ah, right, the cabinet under the picture of Jesus was of course a shoe cabinet. Why didn't he think of that right away? Or at least why he didn't pay more attention when he arrived where Cas got the shoes he lent him.
"We tried to get him some girls under seventeen, but I think he has a sense of age." He tapped his nose ring. "He doesn't want anyone under twenty.
It was not impossible to know the age just by smell, but it was more likely within decades. Ten, fifteen years. But he had heard that some people had such a good sense of smell that they could do it accurately for a year or two.
"Why under seventeen?" That was such an unrounded age.
"Because the age of consent in New York is seventeen."
He frowned.
When he thought about what he and Alpha had, whatever the hell it was, he never really thought about the fact that he was technically a minor. Sure, yeah, the whole concept of a creepy relationship between an adult Alpha and a teenage Omega was floating around in his head somewhere, and at the very beginning, before he got to know Cas better, he thought of much worse things. But now that he mentioned it… Could Cas be getting into trouble just because they were together? Of course he did, that was a stupid question. And asking if he was afraid of the law and the police was an even dumber question. In addition to killing sixty-three people and possibly more, he also sold drugs and organized prostitution. Someone like that could not be afraid that the police would come to arrest him for molesting a minor.
The question that began to gnaw at his head was; could he get into trouble himself? He read about people his age who were arrested for, for example, producing child pornography, just because they shared nude photos of themselves. Could he himself be arrested, for example, for prostitution? He took mobile phone and even money from him.
"I'll take you to the elevator because you need a card to go down." With those words, he pulled a card from his robe pocket, placed it against the panel, and punched in the code. And he went out into the same sterile white corridor as the one one floor below.
Dean followed him to the elevator door and as Cas summoned the elevator with the card and button he spoke.
"I'm sixteen..."
"Yes, you are.," the Alpha agreed calmly, looking at him calmly.
"If anyone found out about us..."
"... then they could charge me with sexual abuse of a minor and rape and sentence me to an estimated fourteen years," he finished for him, stepping closer and cupping his chin. "But you'd have to talk to someone about us."
"I would never do such a thing!" he refused resolutely. As if he hadn't said anything about Alf's business or the secrets he'd confided in him tonight, he wouldn't have talked about either of them.
“I know, Omega. I trust you… I've said that many times before,” he assured him in a soft voice knowing that Dean would never betray him.
"And me to you, but… I know I'm not allowed to say anything about your business, but what if they ask about…?" he waved his hand between them. “What should I say? Shall I deny that I even know you? And what if they accuse me of something too? I can't end up behind bars for... I don't know... prostitution. Sam needs me…”
"Dean," he was cut off from his stream of words. "There's no reason to worry."
"But…!"
"But you're right about one thing," he didn't let him finish a second time and with a thoughtful frown, he briefly slipped his gaze over Dean's shoulder before looking back at him and moving his hand from his chin to his neck, resting his fingertips on the nape of his neck. “We should talk soon about what you should do if the police or anyone else is interested in me or us. But you don't have to worry about that today. It's half past twelve. The police won't be knocking on the door of the motel at this time," he added with a little joke.
He frowned. He was still worried, but he felt the weight of Alf's words and his confidence comfort him a little.
“Okay. So yeah…” he agreed with some reluctance, but he agreed.
The alpha smiled and pulled Dean by the neck, forcing him to lower his head with gentle pressure so he could brush his chin against his hair. An intense, sour cherry scent, just slightly tinged with bitter almonds, filled the air around them as Castiel left his mark on it. He took a few deep breaths of the scent as his Omega purred in contentment as he had just been possessed by his Alpha, all of his previous fears gone for good. All that was left was a good mood and a slightly dazed mind, but… yeah, he didn't really mind this time.
And when Alpha released him long enough for them to share one last kiss, he just purred in satisfaction and then let himself be sent down the elevator to the ground floor.
His head was still full of the smell of roasted cherries and bitter almonds as he walked past the reception desk, so he greeted Beta behind the counter with a cheery wave and a loud wish for a nice rest of the service. And he ran lightly to the car of Alpha's men, which was standing on the opposite pavement, and only half aware of the night's chill, which was already so great that puffs of steam formed at his mouth. Safra, it was five degrees at the most, so actually yes, when he got into a relatively warm car, he was glad for it.
"Hey guys," he greeted the two Betas, leaning his elbows on the front seats and peering through the gap above the handbrake. "I have one question; can tough mobsters drink milkshakes? Because I would have one. What do you think?"
"You're in a good mood..." Jacob remarked.
“Well, you know… I had a really nice evening, if you know what I mean.” He winked at him and enjoyed how Beta pursed his lips a little. "Now, what about the milkshake?"
°°0°°
"... and Grigor Tarasov... doctor, da? He tells her that he needs to think. He takes his things and goes…”
“Wait, wait…! I have to recap it… So the brown-haired Alpha doctor, that Grigor…?”
“Da…”
"He thinks he's the father of twins, but one twin is blond."
“Da.”
“Like the other Alpha Doctor…”
“Da!” Vadim shouted enthusiastically, brandishing a large cup of his blueberry shake.
"Hey! That sounds exactly like the plot of the middle of season seven of Doctor Sexy.” Dean tapped him on the shoulder. "In one episode, Dr. Piccolo's sister suddenly moves to Seattle. She's a freaking hot Omega with a bad past with her abusive Alpha fiancé. First she sleeps with Dr. Wang… he's a great heart surgeon, but he's terribly arrogant, and he immediately turns her off. Dr. Sexy comforts her, she latches onto him, but he doesn't want her because he's in love with her sister. But Dr. Piccolo thinks her sister has something to do with him, so she finds a guy in the hospital's legal department. Devastated Dr. Sexy sleeps with her sister and she then tells him she's expecting twins…”
“Five more minutes in this car and my balls will commit suicide,” Jacob grumbled.
He glared at Beta who had just interrupted him just in time to notice they were already a short distance from the motel. Two more turns and one longer street.
"Those series perfectly reflect the absurdity of life, you know? You should try them too," he repeated something wise that he once read in an old edition of a newspaper that the teacher forced him to turn into a creative project. Because all Omegas love to do creative projects and create abstract art. Because, as you know, they are too stupid to do something proper, like... who knows, maybe study electrical engineering or at least study auto mechanics. Going to the workshops was what he really wanted, but he ended up in extended drawing classes anyway.
"It's enough for me how absurd life is to itself. I don't have to pay a fortune to watch it on cable."
Dean snorted at Jacob's zero understanding of the depth of Dr. Sexy, slumped back into the back seat and began slurping down the last of his birthday cake flavored shake. It was mostly sweet and vanilla, but 'birthday cake' sounded interesting enough to make him want to eat it and replenish the calories he'd lost that night and couldn't get back because he hadn't finished the shared midnight snack.
His thoughts turned to Castiel and he wondered what he was doing all this time. He didn't even realize he was looking in his pocket for his cell phone until he opened their conversation, which had no new message. Although Cas could be seen viewing the message that he had written to him that he had decided to take his watchdogs out for a cocktail and then the one where he had sent him a picture of him hugging both Betas around his shoulders while holding his large mug of by the sheik (it must be noted that not one of the alpha men was very enthusiastic about the photo shoot). But he didn't reply to any of the messages.
He lifted his head from the screen and his eyes fell on something by the roadside.
Although it was already one in the morning and street lighting was not much of a concern in this neighborhood, the motel's sign shone bright enough to illuminate the inconspicuous dark Honda parked not far from the parking lot entrance and especially the two guys inside. They were sitting in a dead car. About as inconspicuous as poop on a shirt. They smelled just like that shit for miles around.
“Go!”
"Chto?" Vadim did not understand.
"I'm telling you to keep going! Go! Just go around the block!”
His raising his voice worked perfectly and it was immediately clear that the two Betas knew each other. Vadim didn't step on the gas like most other people would. He added lightly and smoothly, making it look like he slowed down a bit to turn off the radio, check his cell phone, or something similarly trivial. And Jacob let his head fall on his right shoulder and looked in the side mirror from this casual position.
Dean remained sprawled out in the back seat, but looked up to check the rearview mirror, as did Vadim - discreetly, just a quick glance, as if, like a good driver, he was checking the situation behind him.
At first it seemed he might have messed up unnecessarily, though instinctively he felt he hadn't. As soon as they got far enough from the entrance to the parking lot, a dark Honda pulled away from the shoulder and sped off after them.
"We have a tail," Jacob stated.
“Ya vizhu ikh. Oni ne koreytsy i ne negry, no i ne nashi. Kto eti ublyudki?”
He didn't understand most of it, but at least he recognized two words with some certainty.
"If you're talking about who it is, I think it's the cops."
"Why do you think, boy?" Jacob asked.
“Two nondescript guys in a nondescript car? Cops,” he stated confidently. "That's why you should let me out. We're only a short distance from the motel, I'll make it and you'll be lost to them for now.”
"We have our orders. We won't let you out of our sight,” Jacob rejected his plan.
"Yeah, what if they're cops and what if they stop us? What will they think when they see two Beta bangers driving a minor Omega in the back seat with a fake driver's license in their pocket? Huh?” He leaned forward and rested his elbow on Jacob's seat. “They'll think I'm a hooker and you my pimps. And we will all end up behind bars.”
"We're just your two… dyadi."
“Uncles,” Jacob translated Vadim's last word.
"Clearly!" he drawled with a chuckle. "I'm sure you've seen dozens of uncles like you on the moral department."
“We'll let you go,” Vadim said, turning and looking in the rearview mirror again, sure to see the same thing as Dean; a Honda that was slowly pulling behind them at a really inconspicuous distance. "Batyushka will be angry and cut off our fingers."
"And can you imagine how upset he'll be if he has to post bail for me in the morning?" he asked, really just meaning that Cas wouldn't be happy if he had to walk away from important clients to deal with this kind of shit. He left out other shit, like if he and Sam were going to get taken care of by the child welfare agency and the cops would definitely be asking who the rich older Alpha was and why he was paying bail for sixteen year old Omega. "Look if they're cops, they're not after me, they're after you. They don't care about hookers."
"And if you don't, they'll come after you," Jacob countered.
"Yeah, sure, but who cares, the only way we'll find out is for me to get out," he pointed at the door with his thumb, "and you go on."
“Ya dumayu, Omega prav. Oni politseyskiye suki. Oni tak pakhnut.”
"Da, ya tozhe tak dumayu." Jacob nodded his head and even though Dean couldn't understand them, it was clear to him that they agreed on something. "Good. You get off at the next set of lights and head straight home. We'll go around the block a few times and come back to your parking lot," he flashed the plan. "Above all, keep your fingers crossed that we're right that they're just cops and they'll leave you alone. But if not, we've got you covered,” he added, revealing the gun that hung in a holster at his waist.
"Clearly. You're the boss here,” he agreed with over-eagerness, adding a small salute and moving to the car door.
The car stopped at a red light. He didn't hesitate to salute, jumping into the cool air and quickly running around the nearest corner to get out of the potential line of fire of the two guys in the Honda that had pulled up two cars behind Alpha's men. Yeah, he was sure they were cops, ninety-eight percent. Now actually already at a hundred, because when he looked back he saw that the Honda continued behind Vadim and Jacob. No one paid attention to him.
He returned to the street they had come in and then took the shortest route to the motel. Even so, it took him a good half hour, which is why he was a little surprised not to see the Alpha men's old Toyota in the parking lot. He frowned and felt some apprehension. Was it possible the cops got them? Or have they just not managed to shake them off yet? And should he try texting Jacob if he already had his number? Or even Alpha? No, definitely not Cas. If he wrote to him that Jacob and Vadim had dropped him off at the intersection and gone somewhere, he would definitely get angry and punish them. How did Vadim say it? He would cut off their fingers… that's what he said. Despite the fact that they were his guard dogs, he had no desire to get them into trouble and besides - he looked at the darkened window - he was a short distance from the relative safety of their room. And there was no other suspicious car or suspicious people anywhere around. All he has to do is get to his own bed and in the morning he will surely see one of the familiar cars standing at the far end of the parking lot.
He ran to the door, unlocked it and slipped in quietly so as not to wake Sam.
The faint but unusual smell of several Bets in their room was the first thing he noticed.
Cold metal pressed against his temple.
The weapon's safety clicked.
Notes:
A new Illustration has been added - link....
Ya vizhu ikh. Oni ne koreytsy i ne negry, no i ne nashi. Kto eti ublyudki? – I see them. They are neither Korean (bad word for African-American) nor ours. What kind of bastards are these?
Ya dumayu, Omega prav. Oni politseyskiye suki. Oni tak pakhnut. – I think Omega is right. They are police bitches. Smell like that.
Da, ya tozhe tak dumayu. – Yes, I think so too.
Chapter 28
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
His eyes darted between the Betas who occupied their room. They were three stereotypical bangers he'd have pegged for debt collectors or something. They were all his height, neither skinny nor fat, neither muscular nor muscleless. You could easily forget their faces, especially when you saw them through the barrel of a pointed gun.
He glanced at Beta, who was holding him in check, then slowly turned his head to the second, who was blocking his path to the door, and finally to the third, who was standing next to Sam. The little Alpha was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table and Beta had his hand resting on his shoulder, the other holding a glock loosely pointed at Dean's brother's head. Fortunately, it seemed that, no matter what kind of bastards they were, they had enough of a conscience not to hurt someone as young as Sammy in any way. Sam, on the other hand, had enough sense not to fight with four guys, and he'd even managed to keep his relative calm, because his scent, while angry, didn't have any Alpha rage in it yet. And just a bit of fear flowing like an undertone under the sandalwood and olive oil. Puppy fear. In the worst kind of suffocating way that made Dean Omega growl angrily: protect the puppy! Tearing and biting just to get his child to safety.
He breathed between his lips to regain his composure while not breathing in so many of the room's smells.
Then he turned his gaze to the fourth Beta he was absolutely certain was running this. A thin man with an elongated face and a snub nose dressed in black slacks, a gray shirt and a gray canvas jacket, sitting comfortably in a chair.
"Welcome to our midst, Omega," the lanky Beta boss spoke, his voice sounding both sneering and snide. "We've been waiting for you here for quite a while. My name is Alastair and I've been visiting you with my dear friends," he nodded his head slightly to the other Betas, "to ask you a question. Why don't you make yourself comfortable?"
He looked at Sammy again, who returned the look. Defiance was the first thing he wanted to do, of course, but seeing his brother and how close he was to what was surely a loaded gun, he decided to cooperate. He glanced back at the guy pointing the gun at him and while he watched him, he made his way to the other chair.
"No, no, no..." the skinny Beta stopped him. "I meant real comfort. At my feet. Where Omegas belong."
He was tempted to tell him to piss off, but held his tongue. He didn't want to make a bad enough situation worse, but that didn't mean he was obeying his order. Fucking guns or not, he would never kneel in front of someone like some pathetic, submissive Omega and he was sure Sam understood that.
He remained standing motionless.
Of course his defiance couldn't work. The man with the gun shoved him with such force that he didn't resist, falling to his knees at the feet of a smugly smiling Alastair. He looked up at him distantly, feeling sort of... confused or something. He was scared, he was angry, he wanted to punch the guy, but at the same time, now that he was kneeling at his feet, he felt like he was the Alpha. He was sitting like an Alpha, legs spread and taking up more space than he really needed. He held his body like an Alpha, shoulders straight, chest out. He had the look and expression of an Alpha. Only he didn't feel like an Alpha, and that confused his inner Omega. Not that he'd ever submit to it, even if he was a real Alpha, it just added to whatever was running through his head at the moment.
He suppressed it, along with his fear, in favor of contemplating how to get out of this whole fucked up situation.
And he began to think.
Most of their weapons were in a bag in the bedroom, and judging by the fact that they hadn't brought them here to keep an eye on them, they either hadn't found them under the bed or hadn't looked for them at all, not expecting the teenage Omega and the little Alpha to be carrying more than a pocketknife. Of course, not finding the bag wasn't much consolation. Getting to it was impossible. He used to have a knife in his pocket - not that a knife was any good against guys with guns - but he hadn't carried it in weeks because of the fucking scanning gates at the school entrance. There was only one way to defend himself, besides his own fists.
One SIG he'd charged a few weeks ago, when he was still afraid of Alpha's men, and since then, loaded and ready for anything, he'd been lying around in a room somewhere. It had made its way from the bedside table to the kitchen counter, sometimes lying on one of the chairs, sometimes on the fridge, and at the moment it was strewn about in an unpacked bag of Dad's clothes that was propped against the wall under the window.
He cast a brief glance at the bag.
In theory, he could get to it if he could somehow distract the Beta guys with guns or look for a good chance. He'd have to get past the skinny Beta, though, but he didn't look armed.
"Well... this is much more comfortable, pet, don't you think?" Alastair asked; Dean just pursed his lips and refused to answer. "It's obvious no one taught you proper manners. Too bad I don't have time to train you properly and teach you to love being an Omega. But unfortunately I need to know right now, where is your Alpha?"
Whoever the bastards were, they wanted Castiel. Regardless of the fact that he didn't actually know where the Alpha was, he had no intention of telling the thin man anything under any circumstances.
"Fuck off."
The beta boss made a gesture that was incredibly familiar. His Alpha had a similarly disembodied way of communicating with his men, so Dean knew that whatever he was implying, he wasn't going to like it. He was expecting a kick. He tensed his muscles and hunched slightly to make it difficult for the puncher to gain access, bracing himself for the blow that actually came. A hard boot strike right into his side sent him staggering to the side. He braced himself on his hand, breathing through gritted teeth at the pain that gripped his hip in particular and shot up into his groin as the fucker probably hit his kidney.
He caught a low growl and a whiff of bitter anger from his left side, but Sam seemed to be able to control himself as he always did. They'd both taken plenty of blows when their Alpha Dad taught them to fight. You just couldn't learn to fight without that. Actually fight, not just wrestle on a mat and follow all the fair fight principles the bad guys would shit on, of course. It had dulled Sam's instinct to protect the family Omega enough that he could stand by when someone was beating Dean and not lash out at the attacker, Alpha fangs bared and full of uncontrollable rage. At least, that's the way it's always been so far. In the last few weeks and months, Sammy had been more short-tempered, more angry, growled more often, and generally acted like an obnoxious bitch or... just an Alpha.
He had to rely on Sam to handle it, because he was pretty busy with himself. Like not breaking eye contact with this 'big boss', even though the punch to his kidney fucking hurt. Because he wanted to show him that he wasn't afraid of him and that he wouldn't break him. And that no matter what they did to him, he would never betray his Alpha. Beta seemed amused by his resistance.
"Under other circumstances, I'd love to see you suffer in pleasure and eventually submit, but right now I really need you to stop stalling and tell me, like a little, obedient Omega, where your Alpha father is?"
Wait... the guy wasn't looking for Alpha Castiel, but their dad? Was he just some fucking loan shark or something? It wouldn't be the first time that a dad somewhere, owed someone some money and his people came to collect the debt, but it was never like they walked in with full armor and immediately passed around punches. Most of the time they just threatened or stole equipment from the motel room they were staying in, which didn't really matter because they were always out of there before the manager found out. Maybe the big city loan sharks were more melodramatic. Anyway, if it was just about the money, it could be worked out. He didn't want to take money from Case, but... this looked like a real emergency, and Dean believed his Alpha would pay any debt for him. After all, how much could it be? Ten, twenty thousand? He didn't know how much Castiel really had, but compared to his cars, his apartment, and his clothes, twenty thousand seemed like a child's allowance.
"Look, if our Alpha owes you, it's not a problem. I can pay for it. Just ask me how much you want and I'll get the money," he tried to be conciliatory.
"He stole something of incalculable value from me, and I plan to take it back from him. That's why I'm asking for the last time, where's John Winchester?" he repeated for the third time, and probably planned to repeat it over and over again.
If it was about money, he'd pay for his dad, but if this guy just wanted to find him... Even if he had an idea where he was, he wouldn't say anything. Just like he'd never betray his Case, he wouldn't betray their dad.
"Sorry. If you don't want the money, I have only one answer for you; fuck you."
"Your choice, pet," Beta replied with that sly half-smile that got even wider.
He waited for another signal and braced himself for it, but instead the man with the gun lifted him off the ground and hooked his arms under his armpits. He twisted them backwards at such an angle and held them so tightly that it would have been hard to break free, but he tried anyway. He scowled several times and bared his teeth at the other man who approached him.
Beta just grinned in amusement and bent down to retrieve something that lay a short distance from the dividing wall between the kitchen and the bedroom. It was a pillowcase with something heavy in it, but not too heavy. If Dean could guess, he'd put his money on the unperfumed soaps laced with odor blockers he'd bought when he'd been with Alpha's men at the fancy store. Two were already unpacked, but the other three remained in the cabinet under the sink. That meant their room had been searched after all, just not very thoroughly.
Beta stood right in front of him.
He knew what was in store for him. Their Alpha had shown him once during training. It was pretty horrible, and he trusted his dad not to put a tenth of his strength into the wound. While Beta could never be as strong as an Alpha of Dad's size and condition, he certainly wouldn't be tamed.
Gritting his teeth to keep from making a sound, he did not displease the grinning Alastair and braced himself for the first blow.
It hurt like fuck and it was worse pain than a punch with his fist. The fist bump was targeted. It hurt most in its center, and waves of pain spread out into the surrounding area, unpleasant, sometimes even crippling, but always weaker than the initial blow itself. This was different. Here, the overwhelming pain spread throughout his abdomen, and Dean felt himself unable to breathe. Not because of the terrible pain, but he really couldn't get his lungs to expand for a few impossibly long seconds of panic. He knew what was happening to him. Dad had explained it to him. The impact of the makeshift weapon, like soap in a sock, was literally parasitizing his diaphragm. It was almost always temporary, but that didn't fucking matter. It was still terrifying.
His lungs started working again. The pain had subsided. And Dean sucked in a gasping breath. Sometime during the time he'd been holding back a painful whimper, his mouth had filled with saliva, and now it came out in a thin trickle. It was disgusting and humiliating, but at least he held back a scream.
Slowly he turned his head to Alastair, gritted his teeth and repeated his answer:
"Fuck you."
The second punch went to his stomach rather than his side, and it was as if he'd sometimes shoved the fucking soaps straight into his stomach. This time, he gritted his teeth not to scream, but to avoid throwing the ice cream and cookie milkshake on the floor in disgrace. But the bitter aftertaste of his own vomit brought tears to his eyes. He blinked them away. And he looked into Alastair's face again.
"Go. To. Hell" he enunciated carefully and clearly so the Beta fucker wouldn't overhear a word.
Several more blows followed in quick succession. They hit his side again, his stomach, and one came so close to his groin that he was momentarily terrified at the idea of pissing right here and now. And very proud of himself for being able to keep it up, even if it meant biting his own lip so deeply that he could taste the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.
His own pulse throbbed in his ears, but he could also hear the noise of the city and the growls and rapid breathing coming from somewhere in the kitchen. He was even more proud of Sam than he was of himself and his brave bladder for enduring it all. His little brother may have reeked of rage, but he had enough sense not to do anything stupid and risk his life. And that his life was a thousand times more important than all the pain Dean had to endure. Pain was nothing. Humiliation was nothing. Sammy had to be safe no matter what.
He licked the blood from his lip and looked up at his brother.
The little alpha sat all tense, clenching his hands into his own legs, his teeth showing between his parted lips, but strangely enough his eyes weren't red and he didn't really look like he was going to show his fangs in full anytime soon.
Damn. Dean was even more proud of him. And he sent him a look that tried to reassure him that he still had to hold on. Something had to happen. This Alastair would stop caring if he didn't get his answer and leave. Jacob and Vadim will be back, wanting to make sure Dean is okay. They don't answer Alpha's goodnight wishes and he sends someone to save them. The beta guy who was holding Dean loosens his grip enough to pull away and lunge for his gun. Or in the worst case, they decide to kill them and then, only then, could Sam try to do something. Until then, the most important thing was to stay calm and thus safe.
"You're a nice surprise. So rebellious. You'd really stand out on my rack," Alastair said. "And your brother," he turned to Sam. "Also an interesting piece. Either he has incredible self-control for such a young Alpha, or he doesn't care about you at all."
"I told you we don't know where our Alpha is!" Sammy growled.
"I know you're lying," Beta replied calmly. "Only a really good Alpha father will pay the Russians to protect his pups. And a good father calls his beloved boys every night before bed to read them a fairy tale."
He felt like starting to laugh. The idiot had gotten it all wrong. The Russians hadn't camped out at their windows all night because Daddy would charge them - also, where would he get the money for that? - but because Dean was fucking their boss. Their Alpha had left over four weeks ago and hadn't even called to answer his distress call since. And as he was now realising, this fucking Alastair was probably the reason why Dad had disappeared so quickly and why he hadn't taken them with him. If he had to run away because he'd taken something from this Beta fucker, then he and Sam would only delay him.
"He's telling the truth. We don't know where he is. Haven't heard from him in weeks." He didn't see the disclosure as a problem. On the contrary, maybe Alastair would believe him and just leave them alone.
"Looks like I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands," Alastair decided, standing up. "Hold him for me."
He glared defiantly at Alastair. No matter what he wanted to do to him, no matter how he wanted to hit him, break his fingers or tear his nails... no amount of pain would make him talk, even if he had something to say.
The Beta holding him kicked him in the knee. Not only was it more pain, more importantly, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold on and fell to the ground. He struggled against the pressure on his back as he tried to fold him completely to the floor, but he was stronger than Dean. He pinned him completely face down on the floor, immobilizing him, and then the other Beta began pulling his jacket off his shoulders. He tried to stop it, because what the hell...? But the barrel of the gun pressed against his temple again.
He froze and let them do what they wanted. The gun to his head was already having that effect, and even if he might be able to get free, he didn't want to start a firefight so close to his little brother. Not yet. He didn't feel the opportunity was right yet. He didn't see the chance. He had to be patient with whatever he had planned for him.
A shadow fell over him.
He looked up at Alastair, who seemed even taller from the ground than he had in the chair this way. Maybe taller than their Alpha and Cas. And he was looking down at Dean with a wickedly amused grin, which widened into an adorable grin as he reached for the buckle of his trousers.
His breath caught in his throat and a cold feeling of dread washed over him. And the world seemed to stand still as he watched the skinny Beta pull his belt out and slowly make his way along Dean's prone body to the back of his legs. As they did so, they dragged the end of the belt along the ground close enough that the still warm skin brushed against Dean's forearm and made him shudder in disgust. He did feel a hint of dried blood, but what was more important; Beta was aroused.
He was more aware than he really heard when Alastair stood behind him, but he could definitely feel the tip of a boot from his knee travel up the inside of his leg and dig into his crotch. It didn't hurt. It was barely a touch, but his stomach heaved in disgust. This couldn't be happening. Not fucking again. But when he looked up at his brother and saw his expression, a mixture of concern for Dean and, this time, anger, he knew it was really happening. His face was on the trampled carpet again, only it wasn't one Alpha in rut holding him there, but two Betas and their nasty boss.
He couldn't let this happen. And probably couldn't handle it. Fucking Jesus, he couldn't. Not when Sammy had to see it again, and not after... not after that lovely evening in Castiel's bed.
He sent apologetic thoughts to Sammy. He didn't want to leave it up to him, but he saw no other option. And God, he hated himself for it. For how little it took to make him give up.
"He went to Virginia," he lied sovereignly, looking directly into Sam's eyes because it wasn't Alastair to whom the words were directed. "He was supposed to meet... Piggy Peggy, at a motel called the Three Sequoias."
The initial confusion, maybe even a flicker of remorse that Dean knew where their Alpha was and hadn't said anything, was quickly replaced by understanding. Sam nodded slightly. It let him know that he remembered when twelve-year-old Dean had stood up for a really chubby Omega who had been made fun of by three drunk teenage Alphas. It had happened in the parking lot of a motor lodge called the Three Sequoias, and if Sam hadn't shown up and thrown a brick at their car, Dean probably would have ended up with one of those broken ribs and a police station, because he would have given those Alpha fuckers a good workout with a knife.
"What a disappointment that you just started talking now, pet. We could have had so much fun," Alastair sighed, and Dean felt himself shift his leg back a little, but still keep it pressed against the inside of his knee. "But since you're being so nice, I want to know who Piggy Peggy is."
"No one," Sam said to the surprise of everyone in the room, except Dean of course. This was the distraction he'd been asking for from his little brother. "He's just making stuff up," he continued, standing up to his full height, which took the guy pointing the gun at him quite by surprise. Not only had he certainly not expected a twelve-year-old to be able to not shake in fear in front of them, Sam was a good inch taller than him. "He doesn't really know anything. He's just a Omega with a foul mouth. He always starts making a fuss when we're alone. Alpha forbade me to slap him. I'm sick of these bans. If you get rid of him, I'll tell you where he is. What do you say?"
"I think we have a deal."
"Fine. Our Alpha is..." he paused dramatically during which he looked at Dean to signal him, "in your bony ass, you dick!"
Alastair growled emphatically, as if he were a real Alpha.
Sammy bared his teeth and his eyes glittered red. One last warning before he grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the gun from Beta standing next to him and yanked it to the side. The shot cut through the air and a cloud of dust and pieces of foam billowed from the stricken chair. The little Alpha waited for nothing and drove his elbow into Beto's face. The man screamed.
The commotion Sam caused was enough to relieve the pressure on Dean's back. He lashed out and hit the man holding him in the chin with the back of his head. At the same time, he took advantage of the momentum and the fact that Alastair was a fool and put his leg between his thighs, clamping the hotnik between his knees and pulling him to the ground. With satisfaction, he felt the joint loosen under his force. Maybe it wasn't broken, and maybe it wasn't dislocated, but the bastard certainly wasn't going to dance anytime soon.
He scrambled to his feet and rushed to the bag lying under the window while praying the gun was still there.
Someone grabbed his ankle. He lost his balance and fell on his bruised stomach. Fucking pain! He kicked backwards blindly in anger. He knew by the thud that he had hit his target, but he didn't have time to rejoice. Not even to get up. He fumbled for the strap, pulled his bag to him and reached inside.
He fumbled endlessly between the fabrics before he gripped the familiar structure and weight of the stock. Unconsciously, he looked up at the window. In the dim reflection he saw one of the Betas towering over him, gun pointed. He knew shooting from the ground was the most stupid idea of all, but he doubted he'd have enough time to get up. He turned around. He aimed for the largest area. He exhaled and pulled the trigger.
Fuck!
He hadn't realized how badly this SIG was kicking until now. The way the recoil sent him against the ground wasn't pleasant, but honestly... the guy he'd hit was a little worse off. He staggered and thankfully fell to the side. His fall revealed the other, who was just picking himself up off the ground where Dean had sent him with his punch to the jaw earlier. He looked more confused than anything else, but he had a gun. And it was pointed roughly in Dean's direction. That was enough.
He pulled the trigger a second time.
Hit Beta in the shoulder. The gun slipped out of his hand and, again rather surprised, he cackled back onto his ass. Luckily for him, that was it for Dean. He turned the barrel towards Alastair.
The skinny Beta was rolling on the ground, hissing like an angry cobra and clutching his injured ankle, but the moment he aimed at him, he stiffened and raised his head. Their gazes met. Beto's eyes were dead. Not scary, not cold and dangerous like Cas's sometimes used to be. They were simply blank. And what was definitely not in them was fear. Maybe just a hint. Or just the polite concern that anyone who's seen someone shoot twice and hit it perfectly twice should have. If anything, they flashed amusement.
Alastair's mouth spread in an eerie grin that turned into a loud, raspy chuckle.
"Well done, pet," he crooned in amusement, baring his teeth. "What are you going to do now? Are you going to shoot me? Kill me? Yes? Do it. You've got it. Come on... push it, little Omega. Come on! Shoot me!" he yelled.
Dean twitched.
What a fucking scary fucker this guy was!
"Dean!"
He turned his head sharply at Sammy's shout.
"Come on, Dean!" His brother called to him from the open doorway.
He took one last look back at Alastair. His mouth was agape, his teeth bared so that his tongue could be seen wagging between them, and his eyes were wide and wild. He looked as if he were high or aroused. Like a fucking lunatic he didn't want to stay next to one more second.
He jumped to his feet and ran after Sam. The only reason he lingered any longer was to pick up his jacket from the ground.
Notes:
There was a request for a brave Dean to prove to Castiel that he was capable of taking care of himself. I couldn't say at the time that I was going to do something like that, but... hopefully it was at least a little gratifying. ;-)
Thanks for all the comments, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks.
Chapter Text
He didn't know where they were.
All his instincts and his inner Omega told him to run to the Alpha's lair because it was safe there. He gave in to them and as soon as they ran out of the motel he took the direction he thought was Castiel's apartment. The problem was, he'd probably fucked up and before he'd thought to look at google maps, they'd gotten into places no sane and orderly person - Alpha or Beta, let alone Omega - would ever go. And even though google told him what street they were on and which way to go to Blue Sky, the trip seemed endless. Shit! It probably was endless. They'd have to walk until at least dawn or get on the subway. Did the subway even run at this hour? Or try to call a taxi or an uber, but he doubted anyone would be here at this hour.
When he looked around, the street was filled with hookers, dealers and probably pimps standing everywhere, junkies crawling among them, either shaking and throwing their arms around while mumbling and shouting something or, on the contrary, crawling like living corpses. Homeless people were rummaging through overflowing garbage cans and torn bags strewn on the ground, which should have been taken away by the garbage men long ago, but for some reason they didn't. On one corner he saw a group of painted Alphas dressed in colorful underwear and long fur coats, on another an old Beta with a shopping cart full of trash and cats, shouting something about the wrath of God and waving a tattered Bible around. And just a little while ago a car pulled up beside them and the driver offered them fifty for a blow job and said he didn't care who was on his knees. Sam growled at him evilly and bared his teeth. The guy spat something about ugly, ungrateful whores and drove away.
This district really sucked. Far worse than any nighttime street he'd ever walked through. Sure, there were hookers and dealers, but they looked kind of decent. Or at least clean. But here... They'd just walked past a guy kneeling on the ground, banging his forehead against the wall. The plaster was all bloody now and the guy had a face like a meatball, but his buddy sitting on a piece of cardboard next to him didn't make the slightest effort to stop him from giving himself a concussion.
Fucking city! He thought shakily, pulling Sammy closer. His Omega was fed up, growling, and all he wanted was to have his pup as close as possible so no one could hurt him.
He gripped the butt of the SIG tighter, but then forced his grip to loosen. The only thing that would accomplish was to tire his arm. When you had to hold a gun for a long time, and especially if you had to hide it under a jacket, it wasn't a good idea to grip it too tightly. Firmly, but gently. Firm but gentle, boy, like with an Omega girl, Dad always said. If he needed to shoot again...
Shoot.
Fuck... Fuck! Fuck!
He did, and twice. Two guys. He hit them both and one right in the stomach. I'm sure he was seriously wounded, and maybe worse... maybe he was... He felt bitterness build up in his mouth. The smell of blood was to blame, overpowering all the smells around him; urine, shit, vomit, cheap perfume, sex, sweat, heat, and farts. The smell of blood that rose from his shirt and not from the filth of this street. And which reminded him that... fuck. He probably killed someone today.
Jesus!
He was a killer.
For a moment his eyes glazed over, but somehow he managed to get to the wall so he didn't fall. It was probably Sammy who dragged him there. He tried to breathe slowly.
"Are you okay, Dean? Do you wrong smell..." asked Sammy, a question stupid enough to make them burst out laughing.
"No, I'm not. I'm fucked up. I just shot and probably killed someone," he replied with a lingering laugh, sounding somewhat hysterical even to his own ears, and rubbed his face.
"You had to do it," Sam replied in a very serious voice for such a small puppy as always. "They had guns and they were going to kill us whether we told them where Daddy was or not. It was self-defense."
"Yeah, I'll definitely tell the cops that when they arrest me..." he muttered, not at all acknowledging that the cops were definitely not his problem. He certainly wasn't going to get into their hands. Cas would take care of that. As for Alastair... this crazy son of a bitch was something else. If he'd killed his man, he'd be on his tail for the rest of his life.
"They'll never get you. We'll get away," Sam said firmly.
He turned to contradict him and say they couldn't run, but noticed his lips were completely blue and he was shaking all over. How could he not, when he was only wearing pajamas with the Batman symbol on the chest and sneakers stretched out on his bare feet. Adrenaline and probably his Alpha's stamina were the only things keeping him on his feet in this cold. Oh, shit! What kind of brother and Omega was he that he didn't notice when his little brother was freezing.
He shoved the gun down his pants and pulled his shirt over it so it wouldn't be visible when he took off his jacket.
"You're freezing to death. Come on. Hurry and put this on," he ordered, handing him the jacket.
"What about you?" He asked as he dressed, but it was clear he was hesitant.
"I'm fine," he assured him, though the icy night air instantly chilled him to the bone and it was hard not to start grinding his teeth. "We'll take turns if we need to. But..." here he hesitated a little. "Look, I'll call my Alpha. He'll help us, okay? Just... you should know something about him..."
"I know," Sam interrupted him, hard and firm, his homely scent catching a hint of angry bitterness. "I know everything. And we're not calling him!" He declared firmly with a little growl in his undertone.
He couldn't help grinning.
"You know nothing, Sammy. He'll get us out of this shit so easily." He snapped his finger. "It's..."
"Pimp." He bared his teeth in a snarl.
Dean blinked in surprise. Technically, Sammy was right, at least in the sense that the Bratva was making money off of prostitution, but in reality, the little Alpha couldn't know anything. He didn't know who Castiel was. He didn't know who he was. He'd never seen him, so he couldn't be sure he was the Novak he thought was part of the Russian Mafia. Or could he? Shit. Maybe he did, because Sam was a really smart puppy. And for that matter, he'd better know it. Or at least suspected. Easier to explain everything to him.
"What makes you think he's a pimp?" He asked, trying to find out what he actually knew.
"I'm not stupid or a little kid. I know how these people do it. I've read all about it. They find some young girl or Omega, give her gifts, drive her around in nice cars and take care of her. And then they want something in return."
"He didn't want anything in return," he argued, which... technically wasn't a lie. The alpha had never said out loud to bend over the nearest table and get fucked for all the things he'd given him. He hadn't even said to set someone else's ass up, and Dean never thought he could ask him to. Cas believed the bullshit about Kindred and what they had was more... He was just a future mobster Omega husband. No grand romance, no love beyond the grave, just perks and responsibilities for both parties.
"Not yet... and that's a good thing. But in time, he would. He'd tell you he just wants to entertain friends. That it's one time and you'll do it for him if you love him..."
"I don't know where you go for that crap, and yeah, maybe some people do, but Cas isn't like that. He's not a pimp..."
Sam growled again, his scent growing even more bitter.
"That's what he wants you to think, but he is. He's just a common bastard who takes advantage of vulnerable Omegas," he snapped, lifting his right corner to show his fang. "And I won't let you ever see him again."
"You won't allow it? And by what authority, eh? By the right of the family Alpha, who has to tell the stupid little Omega what to do or he'll go sell himself to the nearest corner?" He asked harshly, well aware of how such accusations always affected the little Alpha, and watched with some satisfaction as Sam paled and opened his mouth, probably to defend himself. He stopped him by grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket and pulling him close so he could show him his fangs up close. It might have been a bit much, but... shit! He'd just shot someone, he was cold, his stomach hurt like he'd been kicked by a horse, and regardless of the fact that Sam was right, he didn't want to hear shit about his Alpha... or even a hint that he was an incompetent Omega who couldn't make good decisions. He'd been holding a whole bucket of shit on his back for weeks now, protecting Sammy from it. Now it was time to finally dump it on him. "Castiel is no pimp, okay? He's... a fucking boss. Capo di tutti capi. Leader of the whole Bratva. He's got it all under control. He runs this goddamn town. That's who he is, you know? He doesn't need to sell me, and he never will, because... I'm his Omega, not some whore. I'm just his, you understand?" He asked harshly; Sam just blinked and then bowed his head in submission, showing his neck, just like a little puppy should. Then he let go of him with a gasp. "Now I'm going to call him to get us out of this shit... and the awful cold," he muttered, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.
°°0°°
The view from Sophie and Aaron's apartment was beautiful as always. Living so high up had its undeniable advantages. Even from his apartment, the dirt of the street was far away, but still a little closer. Moreover, from the eye of his apartment he could see mostly the roofs of old buildings and the passing streets. Here he could see a sky partially obscured by clouds and a nearly full moon. The sight made him feel like he owned everything he was looking at, and that satisfied his inner Alpha, though not as much as it did at other times. He was left with a bitter dissatisfaction at how tonight's pleasant evening with his Dean had been interrupted by something as trivial as fucking a virgin. He had his own virgin Omega that he planned to pull into his knot tonight, covering him so thoroughly and filling him with his scent that he would make him his as much as possible without the mating bite. He would let the world know that Dean was his Kind. That he was his and his alone.
Unfortunately, he had to be here.
He turned over the shot of scotch Aaron had poured for him.
"You're wearing blockers tonight," the other Alpha mentioned in a conversational tone as he began to approach Castiel from behind. He was walking slowly, but he wasn't sneaking. He was upright, his head held high, making it clear that he was on his territory, while Castiel was merely a guest being suffered.
He had no problem acknowledging Aaron's undeniable right to this lair by tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck appropriately, and slowly turning to face him. He kept a relaxed stance, shoulders slumped, harmless and resigned himself, but when he lowered his eyes it was not in a gesture of submission. He watched a drop of water make its way down Aaron's mahogany skin. He squinted his eyes quizzically. The drop slid down between the worked muscles and disappeared behind the edge of his pajama pants.
"I use them sometimes at work," he replied with a lie, lifting his gaze back to Aaron's dark brown eyes.
The truth was, even after washing twice, he could still smell the scent of blossoming apples and fresh pine resin wafting off him, seeming to soak into his skin and flesh. He liked the idea. His Alpha, at that moment angry and frustrated at the departure of the Omega they considered their own, welcomed it. It was a lovely reminder of Dean and his lithe body bucking beneath Castiel. The problem was that there was even a hint of Omega sweetness under the pine and apple trees that would raise questions.
That was why he'd exceptionally used odor blockers.
"Are we ordinary work, Castiel?" Sophia asked, walking toward them from the door.
She was fresh out of the shower, so he could still pick up the smell of cooked pumpkin and metal that was natural to her, but it was already fading fast under the orchids and sandalwood. The scent of the cream she had just rubbed into her arms.
Aaron, as always, stepped back to let his wife pass, lowering his head a little to expose his neck. There was never any question who had the leadership role in this marriage.
"Ordinary no, but if you're paying me, you're my customers and I never mix fun with work."
The female Alpha laughed.
"We can shift our relationship from work to friendly at any time," she pointed out, and by the flurry of excitement it was clear what she meant. He had to admit that her natural scent was... tolerable. There was nothing really sweet in the base itself, no fruit or anything of the sort, and the usual feminine sweetness was, as with all Alpha females, much weaker than that of Betas or Omegas. She even had a nice cock that he wouldn't mind sucking. And the wet vagina behind it, he could ignore. Only the cock was attached to a decidedly female body and large breasts, accentuated by implants that made Sophie's breasts jiggle in the flare of her loosely tightened robe. For her, it came down to the fact that Castiel was not only not attracted to a woman's body when it was too feminine, he was repelled by it. All that unnecessary softness, all those curves that might have and did have some general aesthetic value, but he himself was not attracted to them. And soft breasts that felt like water balloons.
Nothing like Dean's small, firm Omega boobs, which actually looked like trained muscles perfectly suited to his strong thighs, sculpted abs, and muscular arms. He liked those, even if it was a new and slightly strange sensation to hold them in his palm, but that was perfectly balanced by the way his Omega pressed into his touch and groaned as he ran his fingers over his large nipples. Nipples were sensitive in Alpha and Beta males too, but few reacted as feverishly as Dean.
"You are too beautiful a woman for me to forget that you are a woman," he replied diplomatically, setting his glass down on the coffee table. "We should make the payment."
Sophie snorted, her scent a little bitter, but she crossed the room to the table in whose drawer they kept the cash. Pulling out a wad of dollars folded in half, she returned to Castiel and handed it to him, saying:
"Won't you consider a more modern method of payment?"
"I'm old school. I'd rather see bills in my hand than numbers in my bank account," he replied, taking the money from her and checking it with a quick, experienced glance; the amount seemed to correspond to the agreed figure and then some. "Where is Astria?" He asked.
He knew for certain that she could not have escaped. Just like at his house, a card had to be used to open the door. That was why he could afford to let her out of his sight.
"The last time I saw her was in the bathroom." Sophie nodded her head and took the drinks from her husband.
"I'll go get her."
He shoved the bills into his jacket pocket and headed for Astria. Even as he walked through the bedroom, smelling of Aaron's musk and Sofia's sweetness, plus a faint Beta of excitement, he heard the shower coming from the open bathroom door. He opened it wide and from the doorway he could make out Astrid's naked body curled up on the floor in the furthest corner of the shower between the steam and the running water. She wasn't directly under the stream, but she was wet and her hair hung limp along her face.
He grunted in frustration. Did that stupid bitch have to get all wet? This way she'd have wet covers in the limousine and he might not even be able to take her back to Blue Sky today.
He walked over to the shower and looked down at the huddled Beta in silence. He said nothing for a few moments, just watched her, waiting to see if she noticed him.
"Come on out," he finally spoke.
Beta jerked, raising her startled blue eyes sharply to his, and as their gazes met, she quickly pressed herself more tightly against the wall she was leaning against.
"Please... not again," she whimpered into the rushing water, making a motion as if to cover her head. He didn't know exactly what from. Neither Sophie nor Aaron relished violence. In fact, they were pretty vanilla, except maybe for the double penetration, but they hadn't agreed on that for tonight. So she had no reason to act so stupidly.
He let his frustration show with a sigh instead of a growl this time, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
What had he done to deserve that his evening had to go so wrong tonight? Not only could he not spend it with Dean, he had to hang out with a disheveled hooker who might have trouble getting into the car. This just wasn't his job anymore. He'd had enough of that when he was younger.
"I have Armani shoes. You don't want to make me go get you," he warned her of what would happen if he had to get in the shower and ruin his new shoes for her.
That was just the thing that set Beta off. She flinched at first, and again crouched a little under the force in his words, but then she finally started to stand up. She wasn't going very fast, but it was clear she was trying, so he decided to be patient. She didn't whine much for most of the evening, never once saying 'no' and being polite to the customers. And he could give her a few slaps for being unnecessarily late any time later, when they weren't here and so they weren't in danger of making a scene in front of Sophie and Aaron.
She climbed out of the shower and onto the brown rug. There she remained standing like a complete fool. Naked, water running down her body and her hands trying to cover it as if he couldn't see everything her undressed body could show him today and then some. He rolled his eyes, pulled a towel from the dryer and tossed it to her. She was very lucky she caught it and didn't let it fall to the floor, because she wouldn't have escaped the slap. He wasn't her servant to hand her things.
"Wipe yourself. Especially your hair so you don't get my seats wet," he instructed her as he carefully turned off the still running shower. He had no interest in getting his jacket sleeve wet.
When he turned back to Beta, she obediently tried her best to dry her hair. He waited long enough for her to let the towel drop and she gave him a brief, shy look before lowering her eyes again appropriately.
"Give me that," he held out his hand. Ruslana placed the towel in it for him. "Now use this," he instructed, handing her a travel tube of blockers.
He wasn't sure how long she'd actually been in the shower, but it was long enough for some of the blockers to wash off, and besides her natural, faint smell, she was also radiating fear and pain. Neither was something he wanted his customers to feel. Precisely because Aaron and Sophie were so vanilla, they didn't even like the feeling that the girls weren't with them willingly and very willingly. And the other thing was the smell of pain itself.
He leaned back a little and sucked it in, considering how serious it was.
"Do you need a doctor?" He finally asked, just to be sure; Astria looked at him as if she didn't understand what he wanted her to do. He sighed again. "You smell of pain. I want to know if you're just well-used or if it's more serious. Any severe pain in your lower abdomen? Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Good. Then hurry..." he urged her on.
Obediently and quickly, she spread the gel on her neck and shoulders, making the faint smell as well as the hint of fear and pain almost completely disappear. All that remained was a subtle odor in the air that would dissipate in a few minutes.
"Now go get dressed," he urged her impatiently. Communicating with her was worse than talking to a small puppy. You didn't even have to tell it exactly what to do.
If he had to go back to the old days, he'd appreciate it if she was at least an experienced girl. Someone who knew to rinse off only the bare essentials, apply blocking agents if asked, get dressed quickly, and get his ass in the car without any unnecessary bullshit. Doesn't matter if it's a limousine or a van. It wasn't so hard that a chimp couldn't learn after one try, but the truth was that some girls couldn't do it after ten tries. He hoped Ruslana wasn't one of them, because she was too pretty to be moved to a less luxurious establishment.
"Ready?" He asked as she finished buttoning her jacket; she nodded slightly but didn't look up. He walked over to her, grabbing her chin and lifting her face so he could get a good look at her. "I want the customers to think you had a good time today, so show me a smile," he ordered, and she did indeed try to do his bidding, squeezing out what, with a little goodwill, could be considered a satisfied smile, but acting was clearly not her forte. With a disgruntled grunt, he let her go. "That's not what I wanted to see. You need to try harder."
She lifted her corners to a convulsive smile.
She really was hopeless, and Castiel had no desire to address that at the moment. He simply grabbed her under the elbow and gave her a little shove towards the door, letting her know to go first.
Saying goodbye to Sophia and Aaron was quick, as they didn't want to waste any time either. Ruslana, however, was surprised when she willingly kissed Sofia back. She deserved leniency for that at the very least, so when she then trudged her way to the limousine parked unfortunately around the corner, he was patient and pulled out his phone to check for messages from Dean.
He had two he'd already read.
At first, Omega informed him that he would be going out with Vadim and Jacob for a milkshake, cake and ice cream, which frankly left Castiel in confused amazement. More than half the bowl of ice cream Dean had 'cooked' had disappeared and he was pretty sure he'd barely had five bites. The rest of it had somehow mysteriously found its way into Dean, and on top of that, Omega was still hungry and not only willing, but probably able, to have more food.
The second message was a photo of a laughing Dean holding a stiff-faced Vadim and Jacob around his shoulders, one hand clutching a tall cup of cocktail and the other outstretched so he could take a picture of all three. On the table he could see the cake set out, surrounded by fuzzy scoops of ice cream. It was a little unwise for Dean to take pictures with his men, since neither of them had clean records and such a photo might raise questions later, but it was hard to be angry with Omega or blame him. He looked very relaxed and happy in the photo.
He didn't have any other, new messages.
Normally, Dean reported to him when he arrived at the motel, so he was slightly concerned, but he hadn't had any reports of trouble from his men. And - he glanced at the clock in the corner of his cell phone, which read 03:20 - he could vividly imagine that after all the heavy eating, and given the lateness of the hour, Dean had simply fallen face down on the bed and promptly fallen asleep.
Castiel: I'm just finishing up and coming home. I hope you have pleasant dreams and get back to me as soon as you read this.
He sent the message, put his phone back in his pocket and slipped into the limousine. He took a seat in the middle of the longest seat so he could have the bar right in front of him. He didn't worry too much about Astria, just checked out of the corner of his eye that she had climbed in after him, and as soon as the Golem closed the door, he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Sofia and Aaron were both die-hard non-smokers, and Sofia had even had the nerve to tell him once that his scent would be better without the roasted undertones of cigarettes. Maybe so, but without his sense of smell dulled by smoke, he'd probably go crazy.
He took a long drag. An hour without a cigarette and knowing he couldn't light up was interminably long, and now he was happy to enjoy his well-deserved dose of nicotine. He held the smoke in his lungs as long as he could before slowly puffing towards the ceiling of the limousine. Then he flicked an eye at Astrid. She sat against the seat next to him, her gaze fixed across the opposite seat through the window and out into the traffic that passed them. And tears streamed down her cheeks. He was really glad she was wearing blockers, because she would have stunk up the whole car.
He stuck his cigarette behind his tooth and reached across the aisle to the opposite seat. He lifted one up to get to the storage compartment underneath. He had to go through several bags before he found regular Advil, at least the pill Plan B was individually wrapped and easy to identify. He squeezed it into his hand to go with the Advil and grabbed a bottle of water from the bar on his way back to his seat.
He took the cigarette in the same hand he held the bottle in so he could speak clearly.
"Swallow it."
Beta turned to him, briefly looking into his eyes before quickly lowering her gaze to the hand he was using to offer her pills. It was obvious she was hesitant, but one more glance in Castiel's direction and his raised eyebrow assured her that the consequences of disobeying would be painful. She took both pills, popped them into her mouth, and finally downed them with water.
"Open your mouth," he ordered, grabbing her chin as he did so; reluctantly she did so. "Tongue to the side."
He checked both her cheeks and the area under her tongue to make sure she had indeed swallowed the pills. He knew from experience that when girls took too much liberty, they got ideas that cost him money. For example, getting a good customer pregnant and then convincing him to buy them off. This was especially tried on rich Alphas, because the urge to breed was stronger in most Alphas than in Betas. Such bold tricks always deprived him of a good client and he still had to pay for the abortion.
"Good girl," he complimented her and flopped back comfortably in his seat. "I have something else for you for the way you were so obedient today," he added, letting a little growl enter his voice, because he was actually mostly satisfied. Astria wasn't too much trouble for a first time and he got a nice tip for her. For that, she deserved kindness and of course her share.
He reached for the money Sofia had paid him and measured out the fair amount that was rightfully Ruslana's.
"Here." He held up several bills clasped between his fingers in front of her face. "The American dollars you came here for. Take them. They're yours."
Beta hesitated before slowly lifting her hand and taking the money from him carefully, as if afraid he would laughingly snatch it from her hand again or hit her as soon as he touched it. And she held them in her hands as if she didn't understand what to do with them now that she had them and they hadn't melted away.
"What am I supposed to do with them?" She asked, and it was actually the first longer sentence he'd heard from her since he'd met her.
"Why are you asking me that? It's not my problem." He shrugged, sucking in the smoke and letting it slip out of his mouth as he continued, "Buy something nice to wear with them when Balthazar takes you out. Save them. Donate them to charity. Send to your family in Russia..."
"Can I write to my batya?!"
With a slightly raised eyebrow in surprise, he turned to her from reaching for the ashtray. She was looking directly at him, and hopeful anticipation was written across her face. He let his eyebrows drop and finished the movement. Then, returning to his seat, he placed the ashtray on his knee, measuring her appraisingly. She was young, pretty, submissive for a Beta, and so far she hadn't caused any problems, not even spilling an order. If she held out she could not only survive their two-year contract relatively unscathed, there might even be some legal work for her, or she could stay at Blue Sky if she was so inclined.
There were a few small concessions to consider for starters.
"That's up to you..." he spoke judiciously. "I'll let you send him the money with a note saying it's from you. Whether you can write to him will be decided by whether you're a good girl."
"I will! I swear I will! I'll be the nicest girl ever!" She answered eagerly, and with an urgency and courage which he appreciated, she leaned towards him.
"I know you'll try," he replied, cupping her chin and leaning closer. "You will, won't you? Will you be a good girl for me?"
"Da!"
"Good. Okay..." He let go of her and reached again to the bar from which this time he took not an ashtray but a box of two chocolates. He offered it to Astria. "That's for being Daddy's good girl. Now be quiet," he added, leaning back comfortably again.
Beta looked grateful as she clutched the candy more enthusiastically than the money. He measured her with one longer glance, having to raise his eyebrows in disbelief at the almost puppy-like eagerness with which she opened the box, then pulled out his cell phone and checked Dean's messages first. When nothing came through, he reached for his other phone, where Oleg answered. He had new information on Ruby drop. After the police bitches had stopped rampaging so much, a few outside employees - mostly dealers, small, insignificant fish - poked their heads out and crawled in with a plea for forgiveness and, apparently, some information. That sounded good.
Castiel took one last drag, choked on his cigarette, and returned the ashtray to the bar. Finally, he stretched his legs out comfortably and watched the changing silhouette of the city from beneath squinted lids as they passed through the neighborhoods. He liked big cities at night. The life in them never died down, but they were a little quieter at night.
They passed a familiar clothing store, the limousine pulled into a small parking lot below the building, and Castiel reluctantly moved. He was looking forward to a drink at Blue Sky, but he didn't want to get up, only he had to.
The limousine’s door opened.
He pushed past Astria, climbed out into the parking lot, and cast a quick glance at Astria, who had slipped out behind him and was just adjusting her jacket in a nervous gesture. With a single nod, he motioned her to a nearby elevator. With her head bowed, she took off in the direction he pointed, and he took a step after her as his phone buzzed in his pocket. The American one. That was weird. The only one who could call him on the American's phone at this hour was Balthazar, but he knew not to bother unless the whole place was on fire at the very least. Or... Dean.
He pulled out his cell phone and indeed saw his Omega's name on the screen. At that moment, his inner Alpha reared up, snarling and baring his teeth, ready to pounce on any danger his Mate might face at a moment's notice. He pushed it to the back of his mind, reassured that this wouldn't be the first time Dean had called him urgently about anything, and pressed the green button.
"Hello, Dean."
"I have a problem and I need help, Alpha," came from the receiver without the slightest introduction. Dean's voice was breathy, and there was fear and anxiety in it.
A growl passed his lips as he let go of his Alpha's chain and Castiel straightened to his full height. Omega needed help. His Omega was in danger. Instincts kicked in full force. His heart picked up speed, his muscles tensed, ready to run and to pull his attacker to the ground and break his bones with his bare hands. He felt the telltale pressure as his fangs forced their way out of his gums and his mouth watered with thick saliva. Before he could even speak, he had to swallow deeply several times and, more importantly, force his fangs to stay where they were supposed to be. There was no one he could rip his throat out at the moment, and if his fangs were out, Dean could hardly understand him. And that was the most important thing right now. To be able to reason. Castiel needed to know what had happened and where his Omega was right now.
"What happened?"
"Four men, three armed, were waiting for me in our room. They had Sam as a hostage. We disarmed them and escaped."
We? By that he probably meant himself and his brother, because if he meant Vadim with Jacob, it wouldn't be Dean calling him. Where the fuck were those two?! They should pray they were dead, because if they weren't, he'd butcher them alive like fish, stuff their guts with shit and rocks, sew them up, and drown them in the Hudson. And even that was not enough for their failure to protect Castiel's Mate. But at the same time, beyond the rage that bordered on fury and the desire to hurt his own men in completely unimaginable ways… and through the growling of the Alpha inside him… he also felt a rush of incredible pride. And strangely enough, not only at Dean, but also at his brother, even if he didn't know him personally. This was his True Mate! This was the partner and future second father of his puppies. His strong, brave, capable, predatory and dangerous Omega. Only his. And he was proud of him. And also, honestly, he felt smug because despite all the circumstances, he couldn't help but think that he was the one who was able to tame Dean. The strength of a true Alpha was not only in how big his territory was, how lavish and big his lair was, how many puppies he produced and how well he took care of his Omega, but also in the fact that he had a strong Mate and could subdue him.
"Where are you now?”
“At an unknown location, sir.”
He was slightly taken aback by being addressed as 'sir', but since it obviously wasn't important at the moment, he didn't think about it any more.
The four men were a large group. They had to take down Castiel's own men. This was a well planned attack. He knew several rival groups and other people who wanted to harm him and could organize an attack on his Omega. In addition to enough people, they all had modern technology at their disposal. They could both eavesdrop on their calls and most importantly find Dean's location.
"I want you to send me your location over the River, then ditch any electronics you have on you and stay put," he instructed. It wasn't ideal, it meant a race against time, but it had to do.
"I understand, Alpha."
“Now hang up.”
Dean ended the call without saying goodbye, exactly as ordered, and a few seconds later Castiel's cell phone vibrated as a new chat from Omega popped up. He quickly checked the location on the displayed map. It was a pretty bad part of the neighborhood that the motel was in. That was equal parts good and bad. It was dangerous out there, full of fry, hookers and dealers who might think Dean was competition. And pimps, who in turn might consider him a whore of one of the competitors. At the same time, it was so crowded at this time that it was easy for a sixteen-year-old Omega with a half-grown puppy to get lost in the crowd.
“Golem,” he turned to his driver who was only a foot away as he heard part of the conversation and glared at Castiel. “I'll send you the location. I want you to get me there as quickly as possible. And you,” he pointed at Astria standing by the elevator, “don't even move. Someone from above will come for you.”
He forwarded Dean's message to the Golem with one push as he briskly walked back to the limousine.
Chapter 30
Notes:
Just curious, I listened to this song over and over while writing. No, that has absolutely nothing to do with the plot, it's just... I felt good about it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Alpha did tell them to stay put, but after a suspiciously good-looking car passed by and braked at their level, Dean decided to get off the main road. Within sight of where they were standing was a narrow, unlit alleyway dropping downwards. They had a good view from it, but at the same time they couldn't see. It was just uglier than the main street.
Junkies were literally lying there in piles. And that was no exaggeration. Their brains were completely wiped out and they couldn't even stand on their feet, but they managed to huddle together under a cardboard box to keep each other warm. Fortunately, most of them were in such a state that they didn't even lift their heads when Sam crawled behind the leaky container, and those that did had a cloudy look and couldn't manage to look in their direction for very long. Except for one who literally hypnotized them with his unblinking eyes. At first he wanted to tell him to fuck off, but then he realized he wasn't staring at them. He was dead. Realizing this, he subtly turned Sammy around so he couldn't accidentally see him. But Dean's own eyes strayed to the dead guy several times. The more he looked at him, the more he realized that he'd probably been lying there for a day or two, because even in the dim light of the city he could see how purple he was and how sunken the staring eyes were. How could all these people sleep literally next to a dead body and do nothing?
"Dean!"
He turned sharply at the familiar voice.
His Omega yelped excitedly at the sight of the slender silhouette standing on the corner of the alley. His Alpha was here.
"Cas!" Slipped from his lips with relief.
He wrapped an arm around the slightly growling Sam's shoulders and quickly led him to Castiel. To the safety and comfort he brought with him, and to the smell of roasting cherries that was filled with sour fear and sweet joy.
The alpha walked out to meet him as he pulled off his jacket.
"Are you all right, Omega?" He asked in an urgent voice as he draped his wonderfully scented jacket over Dean's shoulders.
"I'm fine. We both are," he assured him and didn't hesitate, just bowed his head in a bid to mark. Shit. He longed for the Alpha to put his scent mark on him, overpowering all the stench of the street and the blood rising from Dean's shirt. And he didn't care that he was acting like a needy Omega or that he could hear Sammy's disgruntled growl and feel his gaze on the back of his neck.
Castiel heard his silent plea. Wrapping a strong arm around his back, he pulled him close and after frantically exhaling the scent at Dean's throat, did exactly what he asked; left his mark in his hair. The relief he felt at that moment was indescribable. The tension and fear that had been gripping him all this time melted away in that characteristic feeling of a heavy, warm blanket wrapping around his shoulders and brain. He was enjoying it.
"You stink of blood..." Cas broke the pleasant moment with a dark growl and pulled away.
"It's not mine," he assured him in as soothing a voice as he could manage, then flicked an eye at Sammy before continuing, "I think... I should probably introduce you."
He gingerly extricated himself from Alpha's tight embrace. He looked briefly into his face; he didn't frown or look angry or scared, not at first glance and not to most eyes, but Dean could see the tension in his features and the glint of cold steel in his eyes, but it certainly wasn't meant for him.
When he turned to Sammy... he had his jaw clenched, a deep furrow between his brows, and was glaring at the older Alpha as if to pierce him with his gaze, pumping the unpleasant smell of spoiled olive oil into the air that was so typical of him when he got angry.
"Sammy, this is Castiel. Alpha, this is Sammy..." he introduced them awkwardly and awkwardly.
"Sam," the little Alpha corrected him without so much as a wink in his direction. Instead, he stared at Castiel, head raised, chin jutted out and back straight, chest puffed out in a sort of attempted Alpha pose. Yeah, Sam was only a little shorter than Dean, but he was much skinnier, and he literally disappeared in his dad's big jacket. Add to that the fact that he was only in his pajamas and was still a little puppy... He must have looked absolutely ridiculous to Castiel. Yet, oddly enough, even Cas took a stand. Nothing aggressive, and his scent hadn't changed, but he was exchanging stares with Sam in that silent Alpha stare-down that Dean had witnessed many times before. And which he liked to start with unknown knots just to piss them off.
Finally, Castiel slowly raised his hand and extended it in Sam's direction.
"Nice to meet you, Sam."
Sam squinted.
"I know who you are. And what you really are," he growled instead of politely accepting Castiel's friendly greeting.
"It's good that you know who I am. At least there won't be any awkward moments where I try to pretend to be someone I'm not," Cas said before he could reprimand, whereupon his gaze slid behind Dean's back as if he saw something there.
He turned around in fear of what he saw and was surprised to see several junkies on their feet and even walking. They were clinging to the walls, slithering like zombies, but definitely heading in their direction
"They can smell a dealer a mile away. We should go," Castiel decided, his palm coming to rest on the back of Dean's head.
He pulled Sam close to him, holding him around the shoulders and letting Castiel guide him. The alpha never took his hand off the back of his head, but he didn't touch him any more. He walked at Dean's side, but still a little forward, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings with squinted eyes. His whole stance said 'protective Alpha, don't come any closer or I'll tear you apart' and that was really comforting to Dean after the shitty end to the night. He knew for a fact that Castiel would really tear apart anyone who approached them with malicious intent.
They rounded the corner and Dean grinned.
As usual, Alpha's car stood out from the dirt of the street because it was a fucking limo. A real limo, not just a big car like his Mercedes. Granted, it wasn't as ridiculously huge as some of the pieces that barely rolled out at the intersection, but still...
"What the hell? A limo?" He blurted out involuntarily.
"I was taking clients," was Castiel's reply, and he might have specified it further if the driver's door hadn't opened and a Golem hadn't peeked out. Of course, the giant Alphaa was accompanied by the smell of dried dirt and the sun-hot hood of an old car that was as unmistakable as the Golem.
Sammy paused mid-step, and in addition to a protective growl, the smell of fear rolled out of him. Dean understood why. Golem was simply huge and scary, but he'd also been sure the first time they'd met that Cas was as in control of him as he was of all his men.
"Relax. It's just a Golem," he assured his little brother in a reassuring tone that no matter how scary the giant Alpha looked, there was no reason to fear him.
As if to back up Dean's words, Golem leaned over to open the back door and swung it wide open for them, a surprised smile lighting up his square face. Though it was more of a creepy smile than a reassuring one.
"Inside."
Following Castiel's orders, he directed Sam inside, which was a little difficult since he was still staring intently at Golem, and then he followed him in.
He was the first to suck in the air, and like Sammy, he wrinkled his nose at the mixture of smells of cleansers and skin creams and a few Alpha scents. Castiel's was probably the strongest of them all, though it outweighed the others by a small margin. Maybe he only smelled it more because it was a homely scent. Besides him, there were a good two dozen Alpha scents mostly hidden under the chemical scents of cleaning products. Except for oranges and vanilla and a rather odd mix of orchids and sandalwood that he didn't like at all.
He sat down in the longest seat next to the little Alpha, and looked around.
He'd been in a limo once before, or rather the remains of one. There was one of those sitting in Bobby's junkyard, long gone, with the wheels, engine, and a few bits of hood missing, but it still looked pretty decent inside, and had tinted windows, so it was a great place to tuck in with a bottle of beer, a phone with porn, and a box of tissues.
But this was something else entirely.
There were two opposite seats. One, the one they were sitting on, was solid, but the other was interrupted in the middle by the bar, which, like the rest of the limo, was lined with dark, varnished wood. The seats themselves were upholstered in light brown leather and the floor was carpeted in a honey-colored rug. The light was dim as it only came from the led lights located under the wooden bar on the ceiling, but Castiel, who had taken a seat next to the bar just across from them, reached up to the ceiling and turned on a few more lights.
"Did you shoot?" the Alpha asked a curt question.
He looked at him in surprise. He told him that Alastair's men were taken care of, but he didn't mention guns, so...
"I felt your gun when I hugged you," he clarified, nodding towards Dean's waist.
"Maybe I'm just really glad to see you," he tried to joke, but his skipping voice spoiled it. Castiel appreciated his joke with a flat expression; he was clearly not amused. "Yeah, I was shooting," he replied to the original question.
"Okay," the Alpha nodded, shifting a little and flipping the seat open, revealing the storage compartment that was underneath. "Did you kill them?" he asked, pulling a pair of latex gloves out of the box and starting to pull them on
Dean looked at all the things that were stored under the seat that he was pretty sure normal people didn't keep there. In addition to the box of latex gloves, there were also resealable plastic bags in various sizes, one roll of garbage bags, two rolls of plastic wrap, travel size wet wipes (okay, those weren't that special), Beta condoms, individually sold ones (the Alphaa had the same ones in the car and Dean really had no idea why, since he couldn't use them), and a few bottles that he vaguely suspected might be full of bleach or some other cleaner.
"I don't know. We didn't stick around long enough for me to check. I know I hit one in the shoulder and one in the stomach. That one might be..." He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, because if he did he'd have to admit the possibility that he was the killer and he didn't want to think about that.
Alpha gave him one quick glance away from taking out the plastic bags. He opened one and set it in front of Dean.
"Put the gun inside, but first take out the mag."
He pulled the gun from behind his belt and was just about to pull the mag out when Sam grabbed his arm.
"Don't! Don't give it to him. We won't have anything to defend ourselves with and who knows what he'll do with it. It can be linked to the two that were shot, and it's got your prints on it. He can blackmail you or whatever..."
"I'll make sure the guns are gone. That's what I'll do with it. Dean is my True Mate, puppy, I would never harm him."
"Bullshit!" Sam snorted. "True Mates are just pheromone compatibility. It doesn't mean anything," he said, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitch as he tried not to grit his teeth. "You're going to blackmail Dean. You're going to make him do... thing in exchange for not giving the gun to the police."
He could tell by Sam's aggressive stare directly into Castiel's eyes that the little Alpha wasn't aware he was crossing the line, because he didn't notice the dark shadow that swept across the older Alpha's face, the sharp coldness in his blue eyes, and the growing scent of bitter almonds that began to assert itself under the cherry scent. He didn't blame him. Cas was really hard to read when you first met him. But that didn't mean he forgave him for acting like some possessive stunted knot.
"Look at me, Sam," he ordered him, and because it wasn't met with success - Sam continued to stare defiantly into Castiel's eyes, and he returned the gaze because neither of them were going to acknowledge their subservience and surrender - he growled loudly, which only just got his brother's attention. He looked at Dean almost in surprise. "I trust Castiel. He's here to help us. So stop this shit. Or I'll kick your ass, do we understand each other?"
Sam didn't answer, just exhaled sharply through his nose and pouted, but at least he didn't say anything else as Dean removed the mag and dropped it into the offered bag along with the gun. He just went back to staring intently at Castiel, which was what Dean was doing anyway. He watched as the Alpha zipped up the pouch, set it aside and reached for another.
"Now your clothes. Shirt and pants."
He heard Sam's disgruntled gasp from his right, but no real protest. He carefully set Castiel's jacket aside. Then he reached for the edge of his shirt and tried to pull it off, but a pain shot from his side and stomach that reminded him of a beating. He gritted his teeth to show no sign of it and carefully lifted the edge to get a closer look at what his stomach looked like. He knew that after the kind of beating he'd taken today, bruises usually didn't come to the surface until hours later, but still... he preferred to check. He wasn't going to tell the Alpha about his injuries, not in front of Sam, because he knew it would piss him off and the little Alpha was already teasing him enough. Thankfully really, his stomach looked pretty normal, maybe just a little red. That could easily be chalked up to the lighting in the limo. So he panted at the pain he felt as he lifted his arms, stood his shirt up and stuffed it into the bag
He moved to his pants. Taking them off was a much easier task as it hurt a lot less. As he unbuckled his wallet from his belt, he half watched Cas close the bag containing his t-shirt and get another ready. Stuffing his pants in was more challenging, and besides, he really regretted losing them, and the loss of his belt, and not just because he was left sitting practically naked in just his shoes and socks. His ass was stuck to the leather couch because he'd left his briefs at Alpha's house tonight, something he hadn't really realized until now. He must have just forgotten them on the floor or something.
Oh, shit.
It made him feel all the more embarrassed, but he understood why they were doing what they were doing. There was blood and gunpowder on his shirt and pants. He couldn't keep his clothes.
"I'll get you some clothes," Cas said, reaching for the wet wipes and tossing them to him. "For now, wipe your hands. Thoroughly, up to your elbows, and your face too. Don't forget your neck and ears."
He set about wiping his hands. Castiel clicked the seat shut, slid onto it, and reclined the one he'd been sitting on. To Dean's surprise, the storage compartment was full of clothes wrapped in plastic bags, but not the cheap ones the Alpha had given him when he left his apartment. These were the white shirts and pants Castiel himself wore.
"This isn't the first time you've done this, is it?" muttered Sam with a provocative edge of derision.
Dean tensed a little in anticipation of the reaction. The little Alpha had been teasing Castiel since they'd met, and it was clear that sooner or later the older Alpha would run out of patience, but not at the moment. He didn't even growl.
“You're right. This is not my first time," he replied simply, setting the two bags down next to Dean. "It's tailored for me, but they should fit you."
He tossed the used wet wipe into the bag next to his jeans and opened the bag with his pants. They had much narrower legs, so he had to take off his shoes or he wouldn't have put them on, and he had to shake them out a bit at the bottom. Castiel just had infinitely long legs. It was the same with his shirt, which, while it was perfectly across his chest, had sleeves that were a little longer than would have been elegant. Not that Dean minded in the least. He was used to second-hand clothing. He was even used to the fact that the clothes were washed, but somewhere in the undertone was someone's scent. Here, it was Castiel's scent, so he didn't mind in the slightest, yet... he had nothing else to wear. All of their clothes, their computer, their toothbrushes, and most importantly, their guns, all of it was left at the motel.
Oh, shit!
Now he realized that their papers were also left at the motel. Sure, most of them were fake, but they had some real ones. They were just their birth certificates and some papers from the schools they went to, but they had their real names on them.
"We need to go back to the motel to get our stuff."
As soon as he said it, he figured it was a bad idea and Alpha wouldn't agree. Only a complete moron and an amateur would return to a crime scene that was now probably crawling with cops. Problem was, they didn't have much choice.
"No," Castiel retorted immediately.
"We've got documents with real names on them."
"You don't have to worry about that," the Alpha said, gathering all the bags together as he slid down the seat to the door. "I sent a cleanup crew in there. They'll take all your stuff and clean the room. It'll look like you decided to pack up and leave in the middle of the night. No one will ask any questions."
"Except the cops," Sammy pointed out pointedly.
Castiel gave him a cold look.
"If that's the case, I'll make other arrangements, but I doubt the police will be there. Shootings aren't uncommon in the neighborhood where your motel is located, and the motel itself can be paid by the hour. People who call the police don't live in places like that."
Alpha was right about that. They'd heard what definitely could have been a gunshot several times in the time they'd stayed at the motel, but since it wasn't close enough to be a cause for concern, they'd just ignored it like the rest of the bustle of the street.
The car began to slow down until it finally stopped at the curb. The alpha opened the window and looked out briefly before pushing all three bags out into the hands of a man in a brown cloth jacket whose face Dean couldn't see.
"Izbav'sya ot etogo," he said, handing him more of his gloves.
"Da, boss," the man nodded at what Castiel told him and then, handing something back, added: "Eto vam prislal komandir. I on govorit, chto priyedet k vam, kak tol'ko uberet rebyat.”
“Ya priznayu. Mozhesh' idti.”
Castiel closed the window again, and while he was moving back to his seat, the limo got moving again. As he settled in across from Dean, he noticed that what he was clutching in his hand was a bunch of keys.
"Did you get rid of the phones?"
"Yeah. I smashed them and threw them in a puddle," he nodded with a small frown. Willingly, he grew a little attached to his new iPhone, as it was definitely better than his old phone, but then again, he understood why Castiel wanted him to. After all, it was one of his dad's rules too.
"Okay." He nodded and seemed to relax a little for the first time since he'd gotten them into the limo. "I'll drive you to one of our houses. It's only a few minutes away. When we're safe, I want to know exactly what happened."
There was a silence that neither of them seemed to want to break. Sam continued to stare with a resentful glare that Castiel was no longer paying any attention to, and unfortunately, neither was Dean. He pulled out one of his phones and began tapping hard on it, a crease forming between his brows as he frowned at the screen.
A heavy stone, and the damn silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioner, settled in his stomach. The limo itself suddenly seemed awfully cramped, but at the same time he had the impression he was all alone in it. And then there was that stupid Omega urge, where all he wanted to do was knock Alpha's phone out of his hand, crawl into his lap and curl up there like a wounded dog. Come on, Winchester. Get your head up and don't be a baby , he admonished himself.
He had to look at this rationally. Castiel hadn't ignored him because he didn't want to, but because what Alastair had done was shit that had been thrown in his face and now he had to deal with it. After all, the Alpha of the game room had died an unpleasant death just because he'd talked to Castiel's omega for a few minutes. I wonder what was in store for the guys who stormed the motel where Castiel's Omega lived and attacked him? Certainly nothing nice, and Alpha was now busy setting up the nasty stuff for Alastair.
And then there was Vadim and Jacob. I'm sure Castiel was after those too. Where were they? What happened to them? Suddenly it was clear to him that the men following them weren't cops. They had to belong to Alastair too, and Dean suspected that if Alpha's men had gotten their hands on them, they certainly hadn't been coddled. On the other hand, Jacob and Vadim were certainly no beginners either, so maybe they were still alive. He hoped they were.
The car stopped again.
"We're here," Alpha announced after one quick glance out of the limo, shoving his phone into his pocket, and of course he was the one who opened the door closer to the curb and was the first one out.
He climbed out after him and looked around.
On both sides were old tenement houses in quite good condition. Cars were parked neatly along the sidewalks. No expensive extravagances like Alpha's Maserati, but no old Audis that were losing their exhausts either, just mid-price category under ten years old. The street was crowded and peaceful. No hookers, no drunks coming back from the pub, no people just standing on the corners. All the windows were dark, because it was four in the morning and decent people were still asleep at four. In fact, they were the ones making the biggest fuss by coming in a huge car and taking up a good chunk of the road. Not that it mattered. There didn't seem to be much traffic anytime soon. It was a nice, safe, quiet neighborhood.
"Follow me," Alpha ordered, but he was already weaving between parked cars.
He checked to make sure Sammy was following him, gave a brief glance at the Golem who had gotten out to escort them to the door, and headed after Alpha.
"Where are we?" He asked as he matched pace with him.
"In a safe place I should have taken you to a long time ago," came the half-snarled reply.
Cas ran up the two steps leading up to the door, unlocked the chip attached to the bunch of keys and held the door for them to enter. Then he closed it behind them, jerking it a few more times as if to make sure the lock really did click. When he was satisfied, he motioned for them to continue past the numbered boxes to the elevator that was next to the stairwell.
The cabin wasn't large, but it looked fairly new and was clean, if full of the usual mix of smells. The elevator took them up to the second to last floor and Alpha led them to a door with no doormat in front of it. He unlocked it and let them in.
The first thing he did, before he even entered, was inhale the smells that wafted from the apartment. He didn't smell anyone, the apartment was empty and smelled sterile, of fresh plaster and brand new furniture.
He walked in and looked around.
The main room was about as big as their motel room. Just past the entrance on the right was a simple gray sofa, complete with a low table. A television hung on the longest wall, not as big as Alpha's, but certainly nothing like the small motel ones. Below the TV, along the entire wall, was what looked like a counter, with vases displayed like magazines, some weird twisted decorations, and a few books. There were four bar stools by it, too, and it stretched all the way into the kitchen.
The kitchen was small, barely taking up half the width of the rest of the room, as it was terminated by another room to which a door led directly opposite the entrance. But it was a nice, new kitchen, with all the necessities. A fridge, a small dishwasher, a stove with an oven, a table with four chairs, and there was even a window with a blind drawn over part of the counter.
In addition to the door opposite the entrance, there was another pair of doors on the left side. Dean assumed that one door would be from the bedroom, another from the bathroom, and the third might be... a study? Or the second bedroom.
It was a nice, seemingly safe place, but it lacked one important thing he'd never needed in any place they'd lived until now; the homely Alpha smell.
He heard the lock click behind his back and turned to see the Alpha rubbing his jaw against the door, just like his dad used to do in 'their' cabin. He was marking his territory. Then he sucked in a deep breath of air, this while he was still checking his mark, and finally his shoulders slumped in obvious relief.
It was then that he finally turned, and for the first time in a long time, his blue eyes focused directly on Dean. And honestly, he looked a little like he'd just come out of some kind of trance or had finally jumped from autopilot to manual control.
"Alpha..." he let the sound fade into nothingness and took a step towards him.
"Omega..." he returned the same and walked out to meet him, but then his gaze slid behind Dean's back.
This time he didn't even have to look back to know it was Sam, and probably his intent knotted stare, that had stopped Castiel. And instead of giving Dean a hug, as perhaps he'd planned, he just brushed his shoulder and inhaled his scent as he passed him into the room.
"What I need to know now," he headed straight for the counter against the wall, "is exactly what happened," he demanded an explanation with an urgency so firm it could definitely be considered a command, and pulled a box and lighter from his pocket.
"Okay... yeah... I don't know what happened before we got to the motel, but..." he hesitated a little, not wanting to get Vadim and Jacob in trouble, but it was clear that lying wouldn't make sense. "There was a car with two guys at the entrance. Both Vadim and Jacob and I thought they were cops. It looked like them... inconspicuously dressed, inconspicuous guys in an inconspicuous car that started following us. We decided it was best to let me get out so they could get lost..."
"They were supposed to keep an eye on you. That was my personal order. I'm going to skin them for this," the Alpha stated as cigarette smoke rose from his lips with each word. And no, it wasn't a threat, it was a simple statement. Dean was sure he really did plan to skin them, even if he couldn't imagine what it looked like... like in practice.
"It wasn't their idea. I told them to - " He tried to apologize and explain that he didn't want to risk getting arrested for prostitution. That might soften Alpha up a bit.
"You don't order them around, Dean," he interrupted, icy cold.
Of course he wasn't ordering them around. He was just the Omega of their big boss. A fuck toy at worst and a future mobster Omega hubby at best. After everything he'd been through today, it was ridiculous to feel inferior because of Alpha's statement, but it flashed through his mind anyway. The usual disappointment that they couldn't be some stupid forbidden love or something. How he hated it when his Omega side echoed like that.
He was probably starting to smell a little more of anxiety, or the harshness of Castiel's voice was to blame, either way Sam growled softly, the warm pressure of his shoulder against Dean's as the little Alpha pressed against him.
Castiel's eyes slid to Sam, watching him for a few brief moments before he spoke again:
"What was next?"
"I walked into the room, someone put a gun to my temple," Castiel bared one fang and growled, but since it wasn't addressed directly to Dean, he continued, "Then they turned the lights on. It was four guys. Three had guns, one pointed at Sam," he nodded his head slightly towards the other Alpha, "and two grabbed me. Then there was the fourth, their boss. He had a strange name... Alastair."
"Alastair?" repeated Cas after him, his head cocked a little to one side, and from his tone it seemed he recognised the name. "Are you sure that was his name?"
"Yeah, absolutely sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Beta, pretty tall, taller than you, very thin. He had this elongated face and a hooked nose."
Castiel pursed his lips tightly, his nostrils flared and his jaw tensed. It was now abundantly clear that he had attached a familiar name to a familiar face. He knew exactly who Alastair was.
"Friend?" Sam asked sharply.
"Quite the opposite, puppy," the Alpha replied calmly, measuring him with a brief glance before swiping sharply. The red tip of the cigarette flared brightly and the ash itself fell to the ground. Castiel exhaled the smoke very slowly as he closed his eyes. He kept his shoulders tense in a way that was both irritating and so warning that even Sam didn't dare break the silence that ensued.
"I've been doing everything I can to make sure no one finds out about you," he finally spoke and slowly opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Dean. "But it was clear I couldn't keep you a secret forever. I just had no idea that gryobanye svin'i would decide to attack you directly and risk war. He'd already lost once. He's not up to it... Blya!" He exploded suddenly, slamming his fist into the counter without the slightest warning. "Ya trakhnu etu svin'yu, kak vonyuchuyu suchku!"
A gust of bitter rage filled the air, making Dean's Omega whimper pitifully, because, even though he rationally knew that all of Castiel's anger was directed at Alastair, his Omega felt that he was angry directly at Dean. He felt the urge to whimper and bare his throat to appease his Alpha, but he suppressed it. He wasn't going to let his instincts make him into some pathetic Omega who would submit just because his Alpha was in a bad mood.
"He didn't come to us because of you," he argued; Castiel turned a sharply surprised gaze towards him. "I don't think he knew about... us. In fact, he didn't even mention you. He wanted to know where Dad was."
"Why?" came out of Alpha's mouth, a single word spoken in an icy cold tone.
"He said something about our Alpha stealing something from him. He wanted to find him, and take it back."
"What did he steal from him?"
"He didn't tell me, but it wasn't money. I offered to pay him because I assumed you'd..." he let it trail off.
"He paid his father's debt to leave you alone?" finished Castiel for him. "Yes, I would have no problem with that. But if your father stole something from him that Alastair was willing to go it alone to get, then even I don't have enough money to compensate him for his loss. It will be something that can't be quantified in dollars. Something very important or tricky that your father shouldn't have messed with," he said, pulling over an ashtray that stood on the counter like the other decorations and smothering a cigarette in it before measuring them both with a sharp look. "Generally, he shouldn't have gotten anywhere near a man like Alastair. He's a very dangerous man with a lot of power who acts without a shred of mercy. Getting involved with him was a stupid idea."
"You know, what I think is quite an interesting coincidence is that Dad...as you say, got involved with Alastair at the same time Dean met you," Sammy pointed out darkly.
"Coincidence?" Castiel raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the little Alpha, and tilted his head to the side a little. "No, of course my meeting with Dean wasn't a coincidence. It was the control of fate. God's will. But you staying in a motel in Russian territory was more likely part of your father's plan. And the fact that he left you alone and left." He took a few steps toward Sam, but there was nothing dangerous in his posture, not even anything significantly Alpha. "Anyone who can ask around in the right places will find that Alastair lost the war with the Russians and had to submit to our rules. And that he won't dare enter our territory. If I were in your father's place, I would do exactly what he did... place you in the unwitting custody of Alastair's arch-enemy and most powerful enemy. Unfortunately..." Here he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, "The fact that Alastair was willing to sneak into our territory to get to you leads me to fear that whatever John Winchester took from him is of such value that he will be willing to risk war for it. And that is wrong. Too bad," with another sigh he opened his eyes again and fixed Dean and Sam with a serious look. "For all of us."
Castiel's words rang out into the silence broken only by the distant bustle of the city.
Every tiny wrinkle in Castiel's face was as thin as a hair, his lips pressed together and colorless. His scent was filled with the heavy odor of bitter almonds, no longer spilling from his pores in torrents as it had only moments before, but neither did it recede. It was a steady stream filling the room, overlaying the smell of newness and drying paint on the walls. And there was suppressed anger, wariness, and determination in his stance, but something else... the Alpha looked... no, not scared, but definitely worried.
Dean swallowed.
He always hated to admit it, but yeah, his dad had made some bad decisions and some downright stupid ones in the course of pursuing his goal, but this time it looked like he'd really fucked up big time.
Sure, Dean understood why he was doing all this. And ever since he'd met Case, and especially in those stupid moments when his Omega had the upper hand and he craved all that romantic shit... that was when he understood his Alpha Dad even more. He already felt the absurd horror of his Alpha being dead. And he knew the rage when his Alpha was attacked. He could even imagine wanting to kill whoever had hurt Castiel, but... In reality, he couldn't imagine leaving Sammy in the dubious care of some criminals who didn't even know they were supposed to be taking care of Sam for revenge for his Alpha's death. Or that he'd leave his own puppy behind. Not that he ever planned on having one, but... we get it.
"But you can figure it out, right? You kill Alastair, you take over his territory..." he asked, and god yeah, he sounded like some fucking needy Omega asking a strong Alpha for help with a clogged sink because he couldn't pick up a wrench and clean the pipes himself, but... dude, this wasn't about a clogged pipe! This was about the mob! Oh, shit! He could handle drunken knotheads, he could take a beating without crying, he didn't shit himself in fear at the sight of a dead Alpha even though he was theoretically responsible for his death, he could get fucked by a Russian mob boss and maybe even survive killing someone, but... fucking gang war? That was too much for him. I mean, he was only 16...
"I wish it were that easy," Cas half-interrupted him. "Killing Alastair wouldn't have solved anything. Someone else would have taken his place, and they'd be out for revenge. That would mean war. The losses on both sides would be huge, and I'm not just talking about financial losses. As much as I want more than anything in the world to go after Alastair and rip his throat out with my own fangs, it's the last thing I should do. No matter that my Lieutenants wouldn't even let me do it."
He couldn't imagine anything or anyone stopping Castiel if he really wanted to do something and was going to mention it, but at that moment the Russian music came on.
"Wait a minute..." Raising Alpha's fingers, he pulled out one of his cell phones and after a quick check of the screen, made a video call. Pyotr's face appeared on the screen. "A ty uzhe zdes'?"
"Da, boss," Pyotr replied from the screen.
The alpha didn't find it necessary to reply, disconnecting the call and walking over to the door to use the house phone to open the front door.
"I don't think he's telling us the truth," Sam grumbled softly.
He frowned at him.
"Didn't you smell his scent?" He asked just as quietly. "He's not lying and he's really angry."
The little Alpha gave him a look.
"You think an Alpha like him can't lie so that you can't tell by his scent?"
He opened his mouth slightly in incipient protest but then closed it again and looked over at Castiel, who had just unlocked the door and opened it, looking out into the darkened hallway with his shoulders tense. The alpha had never lied to him and was ridiculously explicit in his scent, convinced of his absolute dominance over everything and everyone in the area. He simply saw no reason to hide anything, as anyone who didn't like his intentions and feelings could go suck a dick. Castiel didn't care. That's the way he was.
That's what he would have told Sam, too, if Alpha's men hadn't started pouring through the apartment door.
The first to enter was Pyotr, who was surprisingly greeted by Alpha with a warm squeeze of the shoulder, as if they were good friends, before they walked back into the room together. Dean was blissfully unaware that he had never actually seen the two of them speak to each other, so he didn't realise that being the 'right hand man' meant little more to the Alpha than a position in the pack hierarchy. He didn't get a chance to think more about it though, as he had to watch the other men, all Betas, follow their two bosses in.
It was Boris - thankfully without Yuri - carrying their bags of clothes. Then it was a short but muscular bald man with a tattooed face and bald head, who boasted a dagger on his chest, clearly visible only because he was wearing nothing but a tank top with a ridiculously low neckline in addition to his jacket. He was carrying two bags of my dad's stuff. At his heels walked a redhead with longer hair, a freckled face, and skinny long arms who was carrying a bag of weapons. And rounding out the whole thing was an average height and muscle guy with a bit of a swarthy complexion, curly hair and thick eyebrows.
Within minutes the apartment was filled with obviously dangerous and omnipotent men, not excluding Castiel, of course, most of them carrying guns, and right after they put their bags down around the coffee table - except for the one with the guns, the redhead kept that with him - they deployed themselves in defensive positions, centered with Alpha, who sat down on one of the bar stools. So they could protect him and keep an eye on him. It also put Dean and Sam in the middle of this dangerous group, and even though Dean knew they were Alpha's men and he was in no danger from them, he still stepped as close to Sam as he could. And literally hypnotised by the sight of their bag of weapons. In fact, he sort of suspected that they wouldn't just hand it over to him, but he still didn't like the fact that the redhead had kept it for himself.
Their guns were a guarantee of safety. He wasn't going to stay without a loaded Glock at hand anymore, but he had to get their bag back first.
"Kogda my priyekhali v motel' - " Pyotr began.
"Speak English so we can all understand," Castiel interrupted.
"Da, boss," the hulking Russian nodded, casting a brief glance at Dean and, oddly enough, smiling faintly. "When we arrived at the motel, the room was completely empty. No cops, no body, just some blood on the carpet."
He felt a slight sense of relief. He was sure he'd hit one of the bastards right in the stomach, that was definitely where he was aiming and he usually missed his target, but maybe he had missed after all. Maybe he'd just scratched his side and he could walk away. Or maybe his cronies put him in the hospital.
"It looked like someone tried to do a quick cleanup. We finished it for him and brought the stuff in here... young Mr Winchester." He nodded toward the bags. "But there is one thing... Nikon, show him," he challenged the red haired guy.
The man walked over to Castiel, opened their gun bag and showed it to Alpha. Castiel peered into it briefly, his eyebrows going up, and then he cast a quick glance at Dean before turning to Pyotr disinterestedly as he pulled out another cigarette and lit up. Whereupon he asked quite casually:
"And?"
"That was under a bed... It probably belongs to your Omega, but it's a pretty big arsenal."
"What big arsenal? Just the basic equipment," he decided to interject, showing mostly confidence rather than nervousness at being under siege by a bunch of criminals.
"Whose basic equipment? The Mexican cartels?" The burly Beta asked, reaching into his bag for one of their machetes.
"Ours," he replied simply, then looked around significantly. "And I don't know why that bothers anyone here. You don't seem to be strangers to weapons. Like that one over there..." he nodded towards the bald man. "He's got one gun under his will, one on his ankle," he pointed to a small but to his eye significant crease on the lower outside of the right leg of the bald man's jeans, "and I bet he's got a knife at some point. He looks like the handyman type. No offense..." He held up his hands in an innocuous gesture as the bald man frowned a little and glanced down at his leg, then touched the opposite hip from his weapon as he was probably surprised Dean had guessed him so quickly. He couldn't help a small smirk. This was just a piece of cake. Then he turned his gaze back, but this time directly at Castiel. "We'd like our guns back. If that's okay, Alpha."
Castiel took a drag and blew smoke with a nod.
"It's theirs. Give it back to them."
Of course, Pyotr returned the machete to the sports bag without protest, and then the redhead placed it on the coffee table, but if it was the hulking Beta, there was a certain disapproval on his face. He ignored him and ignored the way the atmosphere in the room thickened as he approached the bag. He could feel everyone's intense stares, and in addition to Sam's lingering scent of tainted oil, he could pick up a few faint Beta scents that weren't exactly friendly. If Castiel noticed, there was no telling, he certainly didn't get up from his seat or change position, just smoked, his gaze fixed directly on Dean with even more force than Pyotr's. It was quite possible that Cas hadn't noticed the irritation and aggression in his men's scent because he was used to it. It was the bitter smell of all the muscular Beta bangers one could encounter in cheap gyms or even cheaper bars.
"Okay, Sam. Basic protocol," he informed Sam, opening his bag.
"What are you doing, Omega?" the question was asked by Castiel, of course, because no one else would probably dare. Not in Alpha's presence.
"What does it look like, Alpha?" He asked in return, and yeah, there was a spike of irritation in his voice that he definitely had a right to have, and turned to him sharply. "I'm not going to be left unarmed with Alastair and his men out there after our asses."
He couldn't deal with the thought of a gang war and all that it would probably entail, but he could focus well enough on protecting his little brother and channeling all the fear he felt into rage, just as he had done for as far back as his memory could reach. Protecting him. That meant sleeping with a loaded gun under his pillow tonight, and if Alpha didn't like it, he might as well get pissed. And to convey that thought, he gave him a defiant look, though his little voice told him it was a bad idea. And it wasn't just the little voice of his Omega, which was more eager to beg Alpha for protection, but the rational part of his brain, where he was somehow aware that he was on thin ice. There were plenty of Alpha men around, and a few poorly chosen words could earn him a punishment for insolence. He should have pretended to be a dutiful little Omega, except that all the stress and fear of tonight had already been irrevocably converted into anger. There was no going back.
Surprisingly, Castiel didn't growl at him. His features softened and his voice took on a pleasant depth as he spoke soothingly:
"That's not necessary. You're safe here. My men and I will make sure Alastair doesn't get to you again. You have my word, Dean."
"Right, because you've been doing so well up until now," he snapped, and fuck yeah, he knew he was already fucked, yet he couldn't stop himself from taking a step towards Castiel and spitting out the rest of his foul mouth. "You had me following you every step of the way, but it still sucked. Four fucking men stormed right into my nest and threatened my puppy while your men did what? Nothing. They weren't even there to protect Sammy. So sorry, I don't want your so-called protection," he enjoyed making the airy little knots the Alpha liked so much, "and I'd rather take care of myself and Sam."
It was out in the open.
Shit.
He was dead and so was Sammy.
No, he wasn't dead. He knew it wouldn't happen again, but he also knew he'd just fucked up. He couldn't just let Alpha have this outburst of his, the only question was what the punishment would be.
The silence stretched on.
Castiel didn't move for a long time. He was so eerily quiet, and his eyes and expression were impassive. Suddenly he moved. Dean froze at that moment, and his breath, by now punctuated by his angry outburst, caught in his throat as he watched the Alpha put down his burning cigarette. It literally hypnotized his slender fingers as he slowly removed the ring from his left hand and placed it next to the ashtray. Then Castiel stood up, perfectly still, as if nothing had happened at all, and walked very slowly over to Dean.
He looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a calm blue lagoon through whose surface no emotion penetrated, no clue as to what he should expect. He wanted to cower under that gaze, but at the same time he didn't want to. If there was punishment to come, he would take it like a man, not a whiny Omega girl.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the back of a hand.
The punch landed.
His eyes dimmed under its force and he was dimly aware that he had lost his balance and landed on something soft. It was only then that pain exploded on his face, piercing through his jaw and burrowing into his brain. He felt a metallic aftertaste in his mouth as the inside of his cheek met his teeth.
He blinked, and through the tears and ghostly stars that clouded his vision, he registered the grey surface of the sofa, and through the rush of blood in his ears, he heard a strangely skipping furious growl. It wasn't Castiel, it was Sammy.
Fuck!
Sammy. Where was he?
He tried to look around, and for a moment even caught a glimpse of the bald man holding the thrashing little Alpha, but before he could focus his gaze on him, a strong hand gripped his chin and twisted his head at an awkward angle. He blinked again, because his eyes were suddenly nothing but blue and he thought maybe he'd lost his sight or something. But then it dawned on him. The alpha was leaning over him, the bitter scent was all around him and his eyes were almost all Dean could see of him as their noses were almost touching.
"This was the second warning, Omega. Do it again and you'll know the punishment for insolence. Did you understand that?"
"Yes, Alpha. I'm sorry," he replied, obediently moving his gaze away and down.
Alpha held his chin firmly for a moment longer, leaning over him as Dean knew for sure he would, to give ample indication of his dominance and power, before releasing him and slowly straightening up.
It took some effort, because he would have preferred to jump up with a growl, but he controlled himself and remained sitting meekly on the sofa. A nice, submissive Omega with a bit of an explosive temper, but perfectly handled by Alpha Castiel, even if he needs a few slaps to get him to behave.
"Stand up," Castiel finally challenges him.
He struggled to get up from the couch, nice and slow, no sudden or challenging movements, and the pain shot through his side with full force. He almost fell back onto the gray covers again, but he held it together, just letting out air through clenched teeth and rising even more slowly than he had originally planned.
"Let me see you," the Alpha commanded, this time really gently lifting Dean's downcast face so he could look at his lip.
Sam was too far away, held by a muscular bald man and enraged to the point where his teeth were bared and his eyes were red so he couldn't smell anything over his own scent. And everyone else was a Beta. But Dean could smell the sour fear and the hint of guilt and regret that found its way through Castiel's scent, as well as the genuine flicker of concern in the eyes that scrutinized his face.
"It's all right, isn't it?" He asked in an unconcerned tone, but the way the corners of his mouth curled and the way he squinted his eyes and tilted his head a little... it told Dean that he really did care. He was just... just playing the same game as Dean.
"Yeah, sure, Alpha. It's okay," he replied quickly, conjuring up a shy smile, exactly what one would expect from a chastened Omega.
"Of course it is..." He let go of his chin and slid his hand down his cheek, to his hair and the nape of his neck, into which he gently but clearly possessive fingers curled, pulling Dean to him with a murmured, "Come here."
Castiel's lips pressed to his in a clearly possessive kiss, one that showed in front of everyone, quite purposefully, who Dean belonged to. A part of him, his Omega, liked it. Being claimed by his Alpha in front of all his men. But an equal part of him felt uncomfortable kissing Cas like that in public, with so many pairs of eyes watching him that didn't belong to random passersby. It made him want to resist the kiss, but he controlled it and remained supple and seemingly quite willing to submit to whatever the Alpha wanted him to do. All he did was lightly swallow the hand on his arm that Castiel had around his hips.
Alpha finally pulled away, which was a relief for many reasons, including the fact that his lip was fucking sore and because he got the impression, at least from the growls he could hear behind him, that Sam couldn't take much more.
"That's it. That's my good boy," the Alpha growled, patting his ass with enough force to make every smack audible. Then, letting go of him, he simply turned and went back for his ring.
"You can let go of the little one," he said casually, not turning his gaze from the gold setting on his finger.
It was then that Dean finally had the nerve to turn to Sam, planning to do something to stop him from getting angry, or maybe just yelling at the Alpha, only his little brother was damn quick and agile. As soon as the bald man let go of him, he lunged straight for their gun bag and before Dean could blink, he had a gun in his hand and was pointing it directly at Castiel.
"Sam!" He shouted over the sounds of fabric rustling and safety catches clicking.
"Net!" Castiel's voice rang out almost at the same moment.
Dean lunged forward to defend his idiot puppy with his own body. He didn't get very far, barely half a step, when an arm grabbed him from behind and yanked him back out of the line of fire between Sam and Castiel.
He growled furiously and scowled.
He had to... he had to do something. Shit. Oh, God. Oh, shit. He had to protect... he didn't know who. The scenery in front of his eyes was tearing his Omega in two, and him too. There was Sammy, his stupid little puppy of a brother, with a furious look on his face, surrounded by Betas with guns drawn, pointing a loaded gun confidently at Dean's Alpha. Castiel was completely unarmed, wearing only a thin silk shirt and standing barely two and a half feet from Sam. Dean knew that from that distance Sammy would be able to put a bullet through his head with absolute certainty. And then Sam would die too, because Castiel's men would blow him to smithereens.
He had to stop this fucking madness, even if he didn't know how.
He growled again and dug his nails into the massive forearm that was wrapped around his neck.
"Calm down, boy. Take it easy," Pyotr's low voice sounded in his ear. "If you want your brother to live, calm down and let the boss handle this."
He turned his head just enough to see the look on Beta's face and, oddly enough, there was a reassuring smile on it. And when he took in Pyotr's sea scent, there was no concern in it either. Sure it could have been because Beta was an all-powerful man with perhaps decades of experience in crime, but Dean got the impression, though he didn't know why, that the burly man wouldn't care if anything happened to him or Sam. He would at least be concerned, if nothing else.
He didn't let go of Pyotr's forearm, ready for anyone to break free of his grip, and slowly turned his gaze back to Sam and Castiel.
The alpha looked completely unfazed. He turned to face Sam directly and tilted his head slightly in Dean's now familiar questioning gesture.
"You wanna shoot me, puppy?" he asked conversationally.
Sam just grunted and you could see his fingers tighten around the stock. It was clear from the fact that he was able to hold a gun at all that he was angry, but certainly far from a true loss of control in an Alpha rage. Even though he had red eyes, he valued the teeth, fangs out, he wasn't completely out. Not yet.
"I'll take that as a yes," Castiel replied to his growl and slowly walked towards him, arms outstretched. "Here I am. Shoot if you dare, but you better aim, because you'll only get one shot before my men shoot you. And I am not easy to kill.”
As he spoke, he slowly approached Sam, but he didn't back down. He managed to stay upright, still clutching his guns, ready to fire, only… Dean could see the barrel shaking more and more with every tiny step Castiel took. And the closer the adult Alpha was to his young counterpart, the smaller and less confident he seemed. His snarls turned into heavy breathing, his teeth sliding back into his gums, and the moment Castiel was close enough to have the barrel almost pressed to his chest, all the furious red disappeared from Sam's eyes.
The little Alpha looked up.
A deep, warning growl escaped Castiel's chest and passed over his parted lips as he showed the pup his own fangs.
There was the hollow thud of a gun hitting the carpet.
And then a pitiful whimper, full of submission, with which Sam lowered his head and showed his neck.
Castiel gripped the back of his neck hard enough to force his head down a little more and leaned over him with a low growl.
"That was your only chance. You should regret wasting it,” he said darkly and mockingly at the same time and then, to Sam's clear displeasure, he brushed his chin against his hair, leaving his scent on it. He marked Sam, but not as his pup or a member of his pack, but as an opponent he had just defeated and accepted into submission. Dean knew that without having to smell Castiel's scent mark.
There was a heavy silence, slowly stretching out, as they entered the room there was a first quiet but increasingly loud sound of raucous laughter. Castiel laughed, amused to the point of glee at everyone's clear uncertainty that showed on the faces of the watching men and the way their still aimed gun wobbled in their hands.
"You think you're Batman, do you?" Alphaasked with a laugh, moving his hand from Sam's neck around his shoulders and pulling him close. “He thinks he's a superhero and we're the villains from whose clutches he has to save his Omega brother. Isn't that fun?” he asked everyone, glancing over the faces of his men as he wrapped Sam around him in a thoroughly friendly almost paternal sacrifice.
A chorus of approval echoed through the room immediately, accompanied by mostly polite, somewhat contrived laughter, complemented by the click of fuses, holsters creaking and fabric rustling as Alpha's men slowly stowed their guns.
Pyotr finally removed his hand from Dean's neck and squeezed his shoulder, adding an encouraging smile. He could at least relax, but he couldn't run after Sam like his instincts told him to because he was still in Castiel's possession.
“I know you're a smart puppy, but you should read less comics. Yes?" Castiel advised the young Alpha, giving him a friendly slap on the face to Sam's clear displeasure, which he didn't show other than a stiff shoulder. He didn't even dare to look up. "I'll take that as a yes," he added, finally letting go of Sam.
Dean took a step towards his brother but then had to stop himself. It wasn't about Castiel's scent - it was fairly calm, just a lingering undercurrent of bitterness that wasn't much stronger than when he'd told him about Alastair - or Sam's still angry yet humiliated smell and the way he stood tensely, his hands clenched fist. And it wasn't even about all the Alpha men around. It was about this whole shitty situation. He had to suppress his Omega, his instincts and look at everything rationally. Cas didn't hurt Sammy in any way. On the contrary, what he did was the only way to get him out of the real pile of dung that he piled on himself when he pointed a gun at the head of the Russian Bratva. And the best Dean could do was not ruin all of Castiel's efforts.
“Dean.”
He turned quickly at Alf's voice and saw Castiel offering him his hand. He took two steps towards him and accepted his proffered hand, hoping his hesitation hadn't been seen before. And he let himself be pulled into Castiel's arms without protest. His large palm rested low on his back, almost on his ass. He responded by placing his hands on Alf's shoulders.
“Looks like it's time for us to leave. Your brother must be pretty tired,” Cas stated.
"Yeah, he is, Alf." He shot a quick glance at Sam to check on him. “It's been a damn long night.”
"Yes, it was," he agreed in a soft voice, cupping Dean's chin and leaning in for a quick kiss. “Good night moy mily Din,” he hummed close to his mouth before letting go of him completely and stepping back. "My ukhodim!" he ordered loudly and of course, not waiting for anyone's confirmation or approval, he simply turned on his heel and headed for the door.
Dean watched as Beta with bushy eyebrows opened the door with bushy eyebrows and Castiel walked out into the hallway without another glance. And then he looked at each man as they slowly left the apartment, following their boss. Surprisingly, Pyotr was the last to go, who still nodded at Dean with a friendly smile and closed the door behind him.
They were finally gone.
Dean let out a sharp breath and relaxed.
"Sammy… are you okay?" he turned to his brother.
His first response was an angry glint in his eyes.
"I'm not. I smell like him,” the little Alpha retorted with obvious disgust. “We'll wait until it's certain they're gone and then we'll get out of here,” he stated as if they were sure they would.
"No," he answered him calmly and didn't even have to think about how to answer.
Sammy's eyes widened.
"Don't you want to stay here after all this? Are you crazy?”
"And where would you like to go?" he asked in return, stepping closer to him. “Dad is who knows where, Alastair is waiting for us outside and we certainly don't have enough money to just travel from state to state looking for a place to settle. It's safe here.”
"He hit you!" Sam yelled wildly, voice leaping with anger and tinged with a growl.
"Yeah I know. He didn't want to do it, but he had to. I was rude to him in front of his men. He had to punish me so he wouldn't lose respect."
“Damn, are you crazy? Are you brainwashed or what? He's-” he stopped, took a deep breath and let out a slow breath, steadying himself to speak in that over-wise voice of his, “Dean I… I don't know what he said to you to make you think you need him or that we even need him, but we don't , clear? He's exactly THE Alpha your dad warned you about. He is…beating you and abusing you. It is bad. You must not stay with him. We'll run away. It doesn't matter that we don't have money. We can get them after all. We'll do it somehow. Together, as always, Dee,” he finished almost pleadingly, stepping close to Dean, clearly at a loss for what to say or do next. And his smell wasn't so much angry anymore as it was unhappy and so horribly puppyish that Dean's Omega and his instincts came ringing.
He reached for the little Alpha, wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, resting his head on top of his scent gland while burying his nose in his hair. He smelled like his little brother, his puppy, but also like an angry and humiliated Alpha and Castiel's cherry scent rising from the mark the older Alpha had made on him. He'd never felt this kind of scent marking, Dad had won every fight, but he just knew what it was and still couldn't bring himself to be mad at Castiel for it. He did what was necessary to protect Sam. It just was, and Dean wasn't stupid enough not to realize that.
Sam stiffened a little against his grip, but only for a moment before the Omega scent filled his nose and he let out a reluctant exhale, digging his hands into the front of Dean's shirt.
"Listen to me dude… just… just listen to me for a second, okay?" spoke close into his hair. "Tonight was a shitty night. I didn't want you to get to know Case like this,” for a moment I didn't want you to ever get to know him , he added to himself, somehow not sure if that was still the case, “but it happened and I want you to give him a chance. "
"Dean!" Sam growled and wanted to pull away, but Dean held him tight.
"No! No… please listen, bro,” he pleaded, pulling back a little, but only so he could press his forehead against Sam's. "Give it a chance. Give Castiel a chance to show you that he's not just what you saw today. I thought he was like that too, but he's not… please. Just a few days and if it doesn't work, we'll find another way," he promised, even if he didn't know how to keep it. He wasn't sure how they could survive with Alastair and the whole damn Bratva on their backs and he honestly wasn't even sure he wanted to leave Castiel, but if Sam asked… Dean would try.
"Okay," came the almost inaudible reply.
"Fine," he replied, pulling back to meet Sam's eyes and smiling encouragingly, even though it hurt like hell. “Fine. Now let's go see where to put our stuff, OK?”
The little Alpha just nodded and pursed his lips. That was enough for Dean, he took him by the shoulders and led him to the door that was right across from the entrance. The room that opened before them had windows on two sides, a corner wardrobe, and a large, oddly oval-shaped bed, filled with pillows in all sorts of muted colors. A little weird equipment, but not all bad. Dean could easily sleep here. Some hotel rooms were weirder. But Sam made a face and declared that he would try another door. The ones right next to it led to the bathroom and the one closest to the entrance to the second bedroom, which the little Alpha immediately took for himself.
And so, after quite a while, they had each room to themselves.
Dean didn't think much of it though.
They redistributed their weapons, each taking a loaded gun and a knife as backup. In addition to his bag of clothes, Dean took his bag of weapons and threw them all on the floor in his new room. Then he climbed into the middle of the strange bed, put his hand around his aching belly, and, with his other hand resting on the butt of his glock, fell into a fitful sleep within minutes.
Notes:
Izbav'sya ot etogo - Get rid of it.
Eto vam prislal komandir. I on govorit, chto priyedet k vam, kak tol'ko uberet rebyat. - This is sent to you by the commander. And he says he'll come to you when he cleans the room.
Ya priznayu. Mozhesh' idti. - I understand. You can go.
gryobanye svin'i - Damn pig (literally damn female pig)
Blya! Ya trakhnu etu svin'yu, kak vonyuchuyu suchku! - Fuck! I gut that pig like a stinky bitch.
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He walked quickly to the open door of the limousine. The icy air bit into his body, but it certainly didn't cool the rage that pulsed through his veins. His jaw ached from trying so hard to keep his fangs in his gums, and his mouth was filled with thick saliva so full of his own scent that he could barely smell anything else. Now that his Alpha had an exact target to focus his anger on, he just growled over and over; kill, kill, kill and it wasn't just a feeling in the back of his mind, it was a sort of ghostly hum of blood in Castiel's ears.
It was hard to keep calm and Dean and his stupid puppy brother weren't making it any easier.
Samuel Winchester was just like his brother; a snarling ball of rage, rebelliousness, overconfidence, and on top of that, the smell of ripening Alpha irritating his nose. And while with Dean, his fiery temper was something he admired and thrilled when Omega challenged him. His brother had just enough desire to beat his ass with a cane to make him sit down crying for a week, and even that wasn't enough.
The stupid puppy had dared to pull a gun on him right in front of his men!
Samuel managed to escape death by mere seconds and the perfect discipline that those present had. And a bloody and painful punishment just because he was exhausted, but he still had some childishness in his face, wearing child's pajamas with a big Batman logo on his chest and disappearing into a huge jacket originally belonging to John Winchester in which even Dean was petite and slim. Even his scent was more childlike than adult. He probably hadn't gone through his first rut yet. Those little things, and the fact that even his own men weren't keen on killing puppies, allowed him to turn the whole thing into a joke. The problem was, it could only happen once. On the next occasion, he would have no choice but to set Samuel straight exactly as he deserved. And he was sure he'd get another chance soon.
Dean had shown perfectly well how capable and, more importantly, willing the Winchesters were to follow the rules, however simple. What the fuck was incomprehensible about him keeping his mouth shut and acting like a well-mannered person in public? It had only been a few hours since they'd talked about it and Dean seemed to understand the importance of his public display. And then he decides to question his word, his honor, and his abilities again. As if perhaps he enjoyed forcing Castiel to hurt him, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He behaved like a rebellious child who...
That last thought caused his mind to stutter, and even his inner Alpha seemed to pause.
Dean wasn't a child anymore, but he was very young, still unreasonable and unable to look to anyone or anything but his brother and his own needs. Castiel could understand that, but he couldn't tolerate it. Not in his position. If he was just a rank-and-file member of the Brotherhood, or not a member at all, then he might have granted Dean more leniency. Then again, he wouldn't have the resources to take care of him and protect him from that fucking pig named Alastar.
Dean and his puppy brother simply had to learn to live in their world, and they had to learn fast, and if it was only through broken bones and blood, then there was no other option.
"What's your plan now, boss?" Pyotr's voice came from the opposite seat.
He turned his gaze to him.
He realized, of course, that Beta had followed him into the limo, but he hadn't been paying much attention, so it was almost a surprise when he spoke to him.
"Go to Hell and rip Alastair's throat out," he replied coldly.
His inner Alpha was mainly kept in check by the thought of torturing Alastair for hours. He would electrocute his dick, break his fingers, rip out his fingernails and teeth, and then finally take him out to the open ocean, tie a thick anchor chain to his legs and throw him overboard, still alive, so he could watch him try his best to swim up to the surface and enjoy the terror in his eyes. And it didn't matter how difficult it would be to accomplish or, after all, what his Lieutenants would think of it. It was all he wanted right now.
Pyotr gave him a long look that said a lot in itself, yet the burly Beta finally spoke:
"You know I'm the last person who would have a problem with you letting your Omega be guarded by my men or using our resources to find and eliminate his Alpha father..." he hesitated just a little. "And it's not just because I experienced Pugal's reign. Your Omega caught my eye right away. He's a smart and kind young man... He may have a bit of a hot temper, but that will even out over the years. I like Dean Jankovich, but... He's just your Little One," he used the most polite term for a lover or a lover's wife or even the spouse of one that existed. "He's not even one of us, and as long as you have him in your bed, he can't be. So... with all the deep respect and regard I have for you, my dear, we can't start a war over your Omega overnight. I can't let you do that."
He clenched his jaws to keep from snarling and baring his teeth at Beta.
Pyotr had always been loyal, he rarely objected to Castiel's plans, and when he did, they were reasonable, and he always cared about the safety and prosperity of the entire brotherhood above all else, and so did Castiel. There had never been anyone he would betray the Bratva for in any way, and now, in the face of Pyotr's words, he felt a twinge of shame at the fact that, even for a moment, he really wanted to head to Hell and kill Alastair, regardless of the consequences it would have for them all. He wanted to do it for Dean. For his Omega. For his Mate. He was willing to betray his brothers, his family, for him, even for a thought.
Maybe there was something to the old custom that required every Thief in law to renounce their birth blood and swear never to marry, mate, or conceive a child. And there were still many groups where this was forbidden, often under penalty of death. After all, even in their Brotherhood, protecting the family of members, especially those of high rank, was more of a Bratva favor than an obligation, and all it would take was a word from Pyotr or one of his other Lieutenants to leave Dean completely unprotected. That too was something he had to keep in mind.
"You're right," he uttered slowly, looking out the door of the house Dean was behind the walls of, the one he longed to walk through and back up to Omega. "I know you're absolutely right, but," he turned back to Beta, "I can't let Alastair think he can get away with touching something that's mine. It's a question of honour. He must die, Pyotr."
"And he will die. It just won't be tonight," Beta said judiciously. "And if you are truly determined to destroy Alastair and the rabble that trails behind him, I will not say a word against it. You know I was all for wiping them out two years ago."
"We could have destroyed them, but we didn't have the men or other resources then to take over their territory and business," he remarked gloomily. "I didn't want their territory and resources taken apart by smaller fish. Then we would have been facing not one known enemy, but dozens of unknowns, fighting among themselves like stray dogs fighting over a bone. It would do no good. It would just draw the attention of the police whores to us, in addition to all the obvious problems. But maybe... maybe it was a mistake," he admitted reluctantly, jaw tight and fist clenched. "Maybe I should have crushed him then."
"No, it would have turned out exactly as you say," Pyotr argued, agreeing with the decision he had made two years ago. "But it is different today. Things have changed. In those three years, you've managed not only to repair what Pugal destroyed, but to restore our respect again. And to keep it, we'll eliminate Alastair, but in a way that only the tombstones can tell the story."
The sound of Pyotr's promises was certainly pleasing to Castiel's ears, though the need to be patient was not to his liking. Not because he couldn't wait, he just had no desire at the moment to do anything but rip someone's throat out. It was a basic, instinctive need that was almost painful to suppress. But he could do it. After all, revenge tastes best when it's ice cold.
"All right, my friend. I'll take your word for it, but before you pledge your support," he said, because he had to be honest with his man, "you should know something. Alastar didn't go after Dean because he belongs to me. It wasn't an attack on me or the Brotherhood. He was only after Dean's father, John Winchester."
"I understand." The burly Beta just nodded judiciously. "But I don't see the problem. We can't forgive them for breaking the treaty anyway. Why they were in our territory without permission is irrelevant, and it's enough of an excuse to destroy them. I don't think the others will object either."
"All right. I'll be patient. We'll plan for it and make sure none of Alastair's men are left alive, but... Alastair himself is mine under any circumstances. I want to kill him with my own hands."
"I wouldn't expect anything else," Beta agreed with a small, slightly amused smile, his ocean-like scent intensifying enough to push through the cologne he had a tendency to really overdo lately. But it was a mixture of smells that he had smelled at the best of times over the last three years, and so it was hard to resist its calming influence. His inner Alpha slowly receded into the back of his mind, where it belonged. Under his control. To wait for the moment when he would be set free. Patient, like Castiel himself.
"You always know what to say to calm me down, Pyotr Nikitovich," he said in a tone much calmer than before, and perhaps a little tired, leaning forward and placing a hand on Beta's shoulder. "You are my friend, and I trust you to always bring me back on the right road when I get lost. And you will do that, won't you? Can I count on you for that?"
"You can count on me for everything," Pyotr replied solemnly, gravely, and gripped the arm of the hand Castiel had on his shoulder firmly and confidentially.
He gazed into his eyes for a long moment before gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer so he could rest his forehead against his. Beta yielded with willing ease, placing a hand on his shoulder blade as he mirrored the friendly gesture, but also politely avoided his scent gland, finally lowering his head when Castiel brushed his jaw against his hair.
He pulled away again, looking up into Beta's face once more.
"I think Ulyana Leonidovna might be on her feet any minute now. What would you say to an early breakfast at the Doll? On me, of course," he added with an amused little grin. Everyone had free food and drink at Panenka, but there was never any harm in making a grant and inviting someone.
Pyotr returned his amused grin.
"Glad to go, boss."
"Good. Good..." He shook his head, giving his shoulders one last squeeze before leaning back in his seat to better reach the intercom on the ceiling. "Golem... take us to the Doll."
Notes:
Gangs have different forms of leadership. There can be one supreme leader. There can be a person belonging to a particular family (Italian and Sicilian gangs are famous for this) or they can have a structured leadership.
Castiel's Brotherhood is a third case. At the very bottom are people like Jacob; the muscle men who do all the heavy lifting like driving cars, shooting, distributing drugs, beating people up and dealing with outsiders (prostitutes, dealers, other people who are not members of the Bratva but work for them). Above them are people like Pyotr or Vladko, who already have decision-making powers and actually work largely independently of Castiel. And then there's Castiel... He makes the big decisions, he oversees from a distance (he practically wouldn't have to do anything anymore, he might never even see a prostitute or a pack of drugs again, but Castiel likes this life and wouldn't be tired of just sitting around scratching his ass), and in theory his word is law. Practically? Not exactly. If his Lieutenants agreed that the decision he made was wrong and would lead to too much trouble, they have the legitimate right to override his decision. It doesn't happen often, because when it does, a council of equally high-ranking members like Castiel get together and evaluate whether their "rebellion" was legitimate or not. If they decide it wasn't legitimate, it's considered treason, and what the punishment for treason is probably doesn't need to be said.:-D
Chapter Text
The weight of the gun in his hand was familiar and yet so foreign as he looked up through the sights into the face of the man leaning over him. He was... he looked like... Dean didn't know. He didn't know who he was and he couldn't describe him. How could he not describe him? He just killed him! He should have remembered the face of the man whose life he took. He wasn't some fucking monster to kill and not remember the faces of his own victims. No, no, he must have seen him. He must have remembered.
He rolled over and slowly crawled on all fours to the prone body. It was close, yet distant. He sped up desperately before finally, finally, placing his hands on the man's back. They were wet. Bloody. Dean raised his hands in front of his eyes and looked down at his palms, stained red. There was so much blood, but it wasn't going to stop him. He had to see the man's face and remember it until the day he died. Never forget.
He grabbed the wet, slippery substance and gave it a good hard yank.
The body turned over.
No! No! No!
It couldn't be true!
Sammy! Sammy!
No, it couldn't be Sammy! He couldn't have killed his little brother! He couldn't have done that!
He howled in desperation and dug his fingers into his pyjamas. He shook and shook. He screamed his name, but he didn't answer. He didn't move. His dead eyes looked up. He had failed him. Dean had failed him. He'd failed his dad. He let everyone down. He had nothing left. He was no good for anyone.
"My pet..." a mocking voice sounded in his ear and a hand raked through his hair.
He didn't have time to react.
A heavy weight fell on his back and he found himself pinned to the ground. Sam's body was still there. Close and yet distant. He reached for it, but his fingers dug into the floral patterned carpet.
"My..." a growling voice enveloped his ear.
He dug his nails into the carpet and tried to get away. The body lying on top of him was too heavy. His nose was suddenly full of the smell of naphthalene and lime and old fish and cheap booze and cigarettes. And the suffocating smell of Alpha musk in heat that made him want to vomit.
He was getting scared.
"Moy..."
Naphthalene and lime turned to rotting cherries and moldy almonds. No! This couldn't be... not his Alpha! Not Cas!
"No!" Dean exclaimed, opening his eyes sharply.
It only took him a few seconds to get his bearings. He was used to waking up in unfamiliar places, and this time even the unfamiliarity of the room calmed him. He wasn't in their motel. Nor was he somewhere far away in Maine. He was in the apartment that had belonged to Castiel and that the Alpha had moved them into sometime... He groped around trying to find his cell phone and panicked for a moment that he had lost it before it dawned on him that he had destroyed them both. Yesterday, after things had all gone to shit and he and Sam had ended up in probably the worst neighborhood in the city that existed. Or maybe not, who knew. He'd seen more shit and dead bodies in the last few weeks than he had in his entire life so far. And considering Castiel didn't seem too concerned about the place he'd found them, maybe it wasn't so bad.
He let out a long breath, settling for clutching the butt of his Glock instead of his cell phone, and slowly rolled onto his back.
His stomach hurt like a sonofabitch, he felt like his ribs might crack when he breathed, and he was pretty sure he had a torn corner. Still, he tried to breathe away the stupid fear that clung to his stomach and the remnants of his nightmares. Blood, Sam, and someone's hands gripping his hips tightly. He knew where the dream had come from, and he didn't want to remember either event. So he closed his eyes tightly and tried to imagine something nice. Their Baby, who he might never see again, but still the memory of her brought a smile to his face. Castiel's blue eyes and his comforting homey scent of cherry pie with honey and almond crumble. Sammy's stupid babbling about some science stuff. And of Dad and his bear hugs, smelling of birch bark and wild rose, but also of gun oil, cigarettes, and cheap bourbon.
It helped.
He opened his eyes again and looked out.
It was gloomy, and a light rain streamed past the windows, but it was light enough that he could be sure it was daytime. Maybe even around noon, as far as he could judge by his churning stomach. At least he didn't have to figure out how to excuse Sam at school because it was Saturday, on top of all the shit. He was sure of that.
He sighed and ran a hand over his aching stomach. He didn't really feel like it, but it was time to get up.
Rolling over, he got off the bed with some difficulty, because what the hell kind of stupid shape was that? And walked out into the next room. From a distance he could see that Sam's room was ajar, but that didn't mean he was awake. So he walked up to his door quietly and peered through the crack. He saw Sam's silhouette with his back to the door and heard... his voice? What was that? Sam was talking to someone? No, that couldn't be it, because Alpha's men had brought all their stuff yesterday, except for their laptop and Sam's phones. For obvious reasons; both could be traced.
"Sam?" He addressed him half-loudly. He didn't sound like he was having a nightmare, but maybe he was talking in his sleep so he didn't want to startle him.
The low, indistinct whisper ceased immediately, and Sam raised himself up on one elbow and turned to look at Dean.
"Are you up yet?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, right now. Who were you talking to?"
"No one," he replied, starting to get up. "Just repeating something for school," he added, grabbing his gun from the nightstand and heading for the door; Dean dodged him. "There's nothing to eat."
"Castiel didn't expect us to be living here," he replied, needing to defend his Alpha. Cas had made sure they had two full bags of food and other things every week, which, to be honest with himself, was something their dad hadn't always been able to provide.
"Then you should ask who he set up the Omega room for," Sam muttered as he sat down.
Dean turned a puzzled frown from the microwave he was checking the time on; it was almost 1:30 in the afternoon. They had long since missed breakfast and lunch, which was why his stomach was doing such a rote job.
"Haven't you noticed?" The little Alpha responded to his questioning look. "All those things in your room... the bed, the pillows... they're made for Omegas. You know, for the nest and stuff."
"Don't be ridiculous! My room isn't..." He was puzzled.
He hadn't given it much thought yesterday, but yeah, the bed was an oval like he'd seen in magazines and on the internet. The headboard bulged with soft padding and hugged a good third of the bed's circumference. There were a bunch of pillows of various sizes on the bed, including several long noodles, as well as at least two blankets - one of which he had blindfolded himself with the night before. So, hell yeah, the bed was perfect for nesting. Not that Dean really knew anything about it, since he'd made something like a nest a few times when he was a kid, but he'd seen it on DIY and reality shows about renovations. There they always talked about how beds for Omegas were more expensive than regular ones, but that the investment was worth it because a nice nesting bed was the centerpiece of an entire room for a little Omega or a mated couple. Even literally the centrepiece of the whole apartment. And they showed those Omegas screaming and crying with hysterical joy as they rushed from the door to their new beds and immediately started rearranging the pillows to build the prettiest nest. He was embarrassed for them as well, and often wondered in his mind if they were really that fucked up or if they had been paid to make a scene like this.
But it wasn't like Castiel had set this apartment up just for them. Was it?
He looked around.
The paint was brand new, still smelled, the carpets in all the rooms were spotless, the bathroom literally gleamed. The kettle, the coffee maker, the microwave and the tea pot Castiel had at home were spotless, as was the stove. The window frames were perfectly white, the blinds clean, the sofa smelled of plastic and odor spray. In fact, there were no odors at all. This place had been newly renovated, and so meticulously so that there was nothing left of the previous tenants. Not a scrap of paper, a crumb or a drop of scent. That meant that everything here had to be stripped down to brick and beams or drywall, meticulously cleaned, and newly thrown up.
Shit.
Sam was right. Castiel had set this apartment up for them, and not even just for Dean, he'd counted on Sam, too, because the apartment had two bedrooms-it was easy to make the other room into something else during the renovation or just leave it empty-one had a nesting bed and the other a normal one. Ignoring the fact that he didn't need a bed for Omega, he actually... A small smile lifted his lips, warmth gathering in his chest, and his Omega purred contentedly. His Alpha had fulfilled his long-ago promise, the one Dean hadn't believed at the time because he didn't know Castiel, and had 'taken' them both in.
A bell rang through the silent room.
They both turned sharply to the door and reached for their weapons.
There was silence for a little while, and then the bell rang again.
"I'm going," he announced, standing up and heading for the door, gun muzzle to the ground, but still ready to pick it up and ram it through the door into whoever was standing there. That is, of course, if he didn't like it.
He'd been walking along the wall for the last three years or so, knowing that there might be someone on the other side just as willing to shoot blindly. Finally, when he was at the door, he listened to the sounds behind it and took in the smell passing by the hinges. The smell of... roasted cherries and bitter almonds.
He immediately relaxed, taking the glock in one hand and reaching for the handle before pausing. There was a possibility, however small, that someone had obtained Castiel's clothes to cover their scent with his. Therefore, he looked out the peephole first, then relaxed again.
Castiel's lens-deformed face stared at him from the other side of the door, surrounded by the faces of several of his men.
He took a deep breath, giving himself courage before opening it. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms yesterday, and Castiel had his men with him, and in front of them... well, in front of them he seemed completely different than when he and Dean were alone. And after that encounter with the Alpha yesterday, his stomach felt cold. He didn't blame him for what he'd done, he already understood why it had to be, and he was grateful for how smoothly he'd handled the dangerous situation with Sam, yet... he'd been brought up not to take kindly to that sort of behaviour from the knots, so there was his upbringing, his Omega who was,it seemed, willing to forgive his Alpha for everything, and a rational awareness of their situation. Especially the fact that without Case they would be dead, as the Alastair's would be able to escape once, but probably not a second time. He would have found them and since they couldn't even tell him where Dad was, he probably would have killed them eventually. And it would have been their Alpha's fault.
Those thoughts ran through his head. A dilemma he saw as unsolvable. And Sam's presence didn't make it any easier, of course.
"It's Castiel, Sam. Put the gun away," he finally called into the kitchen, shoving the gun down his pants and reaching for the doorknob.
The hinges slid smoothly, the door opened. Dean took in Alpha's scent, tinged with the smell of donuts, wafting from the box one of Alpha's men held. But even the scent of Dean's third favorite food couldn't overpower the honeyed sweetness of Alpha's happiness, which instantly spread to the surrounding area when their eyes met.
Cas looked tired, with brown bags under his eyes, but the tension of the night before was gone, and his face instantly softened in that beautiful, welcoming way it did every time he saw Dean. His lips lifted in a small smile, the lines around his eyes deepened into furrows, and the blue lagoon of his eyes filled with warmth.
Oh, fuck it... He thought to himself as he moved forward without much thought, grabbing the back of Alpha's head and pulling him in for a good kiss, ignoring the way the torn corner stung as he did so. He tasted the familiar aftertaste of cigarettes, the bitterness of coffee, and a slightly surprised gasp, but that was quickly covered up as Castiel returned the kiss willingly. And wrapped both arms around his waist.
"Now that's what I call a welcome," Castiel growled as he pulled away, burying his nose in Dean's neck.
His eyes closed on their own as the warm nose touched his skin, and he tilted his head, giving the sniffing Alpha more of his scent. Alpha wanted him. He was welcome, despite how they'd broken up yesterday, and it was so damn satisfying and made him ridiculously happy. He was like some needy puppy, nothing else. The realization filled him with discomfort, as it always did, so he pulled away, or at least tried to. The alpha's grip around his waist tightened a little, more than he liked, because the bump on Dean's side was really hurting, and wouldn't let him move away.
"I'm not saying unwanted," Cas said, then pressed a quick kiss to his jaw, loosening his grip around Dean's waist but not completely letting go. He moved his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close in a clearly possessive gesture, leading him back into the room. He gave in to it, because it was clear he just wanted to make room for the Betas who had purchases for them.
"Polozhite pokupku na kukhonnyy stol. Togda vy mozhete idti." He nodded his head towards the kitchen to show his men where to go.
Alpha's men entered and headed for the kitchen. As they passed Dean, they cast him a look that looked like they were amused but didn't want to let it show. He returned the look, his head held high as he watched them stack their groceries in the kitchen. The paper bags he was sure were full of food came to the table, the box of donuts ended up on the kitchen counter, and the large, plastic bag from the electronics store was again at the foot of the table just a few feet from Sam. He had retreated to a corner of the kitchen so that he had the kitchen counter at his back, watching Alpha's men with all the vigilance he could muster, and thankfully hiding his gun somewhere.
When the bags were put away, the redhead and the bald man returned to the door - nodding in Castiel's direction as they went, saying goodbye in Russian - and left.
"He sent his men away. That means it's just you and me," Sam spoke up just as the doorknob clicked behind Alpha's men.
Dean quickly turned to him, fearing he'd see him aiming at Castiel again, but thankfully Sam didn't. He was much calmer today, all he did was stand in front of the kitchen table and strike a defensive pose.
"I appreciate your fierce and fearless efforts to protect your brother," Castiel said, taking his hand away from Dean's shoulder and taking a step so he could face the little Alpha, "but I have no reason to be wary of you, pup."
Sam bared his teeth and growled.
At that moment, Dean had had enough. His stomach still fucking hurt, he was hungry, and he'd been having nightmares all night, so he felt tired. Plus... Honestly, if he hadn't known Sam was holding his gun behind his back and seen the strap of the armpit holster under Alpha's jacket, which was definitely not just decoration, it would have been ridiculous what the two of them were doing. Stupid macho bullshit from two stunted knots, nothing else. He was going to put a stop to this.
He hesitated only a moment before stepping in front of Castiel
"Don't start that shit again, Sam. Put the gun on the table and sit down. That's an order!" He commanded emphatically, gesturing to the table.
The little Alpha put on a stubborn expression and exhaled sharply, but finally, slowly, still staring at Castiel, he placed the gun on the corner of the table, backed blindly to a chair and slowly sat down on it. Clearly, he had never planned to let the older Alpha out of his sight. Dean sighed inwardly at that and turned his gaze to Castiel to check what he thought. Almost nothing was readable on his face, only the previous relaxation was gone, replaced again by tension around his mouth and eyes, and the bitter almonds were asserting themselves a little more in his scent. And of course, he didn't take his eyes off Sam either.
Okay, that was... not entirely cool, but he didn't think it was going to get better anytime soon.
"Fine. We should... who wants a donut?" He asked, his eyes darting from one Alpha to the other.
"I've already eaten," Castiel replied, finally averting his gaze from the younger Alpha, interrupting their mutual measure of strength. "But I'll have coffee," he added on his way to the table. And even though he wasn't staring at Sam the way Sam was staring at him, the way he moved, the way he sat up, the way he held his body was definitely a warning.
Dean watched them both for a moment. Sam was sitting on one side of the table, defiantly boring a hole in Castiel's head with his gaze and keeping his lips tightly pursed, while the older Alpha, sitting on the other side, was quite deliberately and very ostentatiously ignoring him. Over the last six months or so, this situation had become ridiculously familiar to Dean, as more and more breakfasts, lunches and dinners were somehow taking place in the family circle, which was... Wow! Okay, that was a little disconcerting, because even though Cas was his dad's age, he was definitely not Dean's father, and he just... He decided he'd rather not think about it that way, and - he sucked in a little air filled with the bitter rage of the two Alphas - fervently hoped that one of those stupid pheromone bonds wouldn't be triggered, where his body would start pumping Omega musk into the air in an attempt to calm the two Alpha idiots down, and the whole apartment would suddenly turn into a gas chamber.
Maybe an open window would help? Yeah, that would probably help, he decided, walking over to the window and opening it before moving over to the bags of food.
"Coffee... coffee... where's our coffee?" He muttered to himself, just to fill the oppressive silence and tension, pulling his groceries out onto the table until he came across the coffee can. "'Eureka! There it is! So who wants coffee besides Castiel? I'll definitely have one... anyone else?" He asked conversationally and of course got no answer. "Okay, no one," he added, turning back to the coffee maker, but still watching out of the corner of his eye the two silent Alphas that filled the kitchen with their aggression regardless of the fact that the window was open.
He poured the coffee, checked that the pot was seated properly, pressed a few buttons, and the machine hummed to life. He waited for that thrilling moment before the first trickle of black liquid began to trickle into the pot, then sighed inwardly. He was glad for his experience in various bistros, restaurants and bars. Granted, he'd always been hired to clean up and wash dishes there, but since he'd looked grown up enough, he'd ended up on set, at the fryer, or given the task of making coffee every now and then. That's how he learned to operate the coffee maker, fry eggs and bacon, fry French fries and bake a hamburger... which was about all he could really cook. Oh, and sandwiches, frozen pizza, fish fingers and custard, and a few other specialties.
"What kind of donut do you want, Sammy?" He asked as soon as he opened the really huge box that was completely full. It looked like Alpha had bought a piece of each kind, so there were donuts with different toppings, sprinkles and creams. There was definitely a lot to choose from.
"It's Sam. And I don't care," the little Alpha growled. It was admittedly a bit aggressive for Sam, but certainly not enough to make Castiel give him a sharp look through squinted eyes and raise one corner in a partial presentation of his golden fang. Of course Sam responded in kind.
Dean grabbed one of the doughnuts and almost threw it in front of his brother. He blinked in surprise and looked down at his food. He stared at the donut for quite a while before picking it up and biting into it. Dean sighed. This was like feeding wild beasts at the zoo. It would even be funny if he couldn't vividly imagine Sam hanging hooked into Castiel's shoulder, because yeah, that's exactly what he'd be capable of at this point. Or at least he looked like it.
He placed two more donuts in front of the little Alpha to keep him occupied and literally gag him so he couldn't growl, and placed a mug in front of Castiel again for a change - luckily the kitchen wasn't big and all he had to do was open the first cabinet and the mugs fell right under his hands. Then he checked the coffee machine. The pot was about two-thirds full. Okay, that had to be enough. He switched it off, pulled the pot out from under the coffee machine and poured first Alpha and then himself.
He sat down and reached for one of the doughnuts that lay in front of Sam. His stomach was already aching with hunger.
"Your brother should take the donuts and the new cell phone and go to his room so we can talk in peace," Castiel broke the truce Dean had managed to establish in the room, partly to keep the Alphas from killing each other and also so he could eat in peace.
"Even though you branded me, you're not my Alpha. I'm staying here," Sam responded aggressively, of course.
Castiel narrowed his eyes in irritation.
"I want Sam to stay too," he stated firmly; the Alpha turned a look towards him that made him stiffen a little, but didn't intimidate him: "Look... he knows who you are and what your job is and he was there for everything last night. He actually dealt with one of Alastair's men. He can handle anything we talk about and he won't say anything to anyone. He can keep a secret," he said much more conciliatory in an attempt to avoid further conflict.
"Okay," the Alpha replied simply, whereupon he leaned over to the bag at the foot of the table - Sam grunted in disapproval and tensed up, because that was Castiel invading his personal space and Alphas hated that - and pulled out a paper police file. "The body of a man we know to be one of Alastair's men was found this morning. He was shot through the stomach. Take a look at him and tell me if he's the one you shot last night."
The body. The dead body that was found. That meant he'd killed him. He was a murderer. Yeah, he'd killed a bad guy who certainly wouldn't hesitate to hurt both him and Sam, but still... A cold, sticky feeling began to spread down his back and slide up his arms to his toes. It was like being in a pool full of icy water. It was cold and felt so light at the same time.
"...Omega?!" Alpha's voice reached him over the ghostly pressure of water in his ears; he looked up. "Is that the man?"
He blinked and lowered his eyes to the open folder that had probably been in front of him for some time.
He half expected to see a photograph of a corpse, but in reality he was looking at a typical police portrait. Actually, more like a page of some police file, where besides the photo there were basic details like the name - Jack Summerson, a banal name that certainly didn't inspire fear - height and weight, place of birth, that sort of thing. It looked official and sort of normal, as if it didn't belong to the dead man at all. To the man he killed. He licked his lips and focused on the photograph. At first he wasn't entirely sure and, as much as he hated to, he had to remember the barrel of the gun pointed at him, look past it and focus on the face, but...
"Yeah, it's the guy," he replied, and even to himself his own voice sounded flat, as if he didn't even care that he'd killed this Jack guy, but he hadn't. He knew he had to defend himself, but he didn't care that he was dead, he just felt kind of empty. "I didn't mean to kill him," he said, looking at Alpha as if he could give him some absolution.
"Turn to the next page," Castiel urged him, and when Dean just gave him an uncomprehending look in response, not even attempting to turn the page, he continued, "Turn. There's the autopsy report. We've been lucky... this Summerson used to work for a certain France Schröder, he's an internationally known arms dealer who also willingly sells to many extremist groups. Summerson may have been a small fish, and the connection to Schröder is very vague, but it was enough to put him at the top of the coroner's dance order. Normally it takes a week to ten days for the corpse of a criminal, prostitute or junkie to even make it to the autopsy table."
"I don't care who the guy was and I don't need to know what the coroner wrote. I know how he died."
"Are you sure?"
Alpha's words confused him. Wasn't it obvious that Dean's bullet had killed Summerson? With some hope that maybe he wasn't the killer, though he couldn't imagine how that could be possible, he did indeed turn to the next page. There was a list of crimes and some other official bullshit, so he kept turning until he finally came across a paper headed 'Coroner's Report'. The date was today's, the time around 10am, then the name of the autopsy officer... he slid his eyes over the information, like blood alcohol or drug levels, until he finally got to the final paragraph, where the clear cause of death was listed as fatal brain injury due to a gunshot wound to the head.
"Now wait a minute... that's not right... I didn't shoot him in the head," he quickly looked at Case. "I only fired twice, at two guys. I aimed for the stomach of this one, and I'm certainly a good enough shot not to miss the damn stomach."
"If you'd read the report carefully, you'd find that he was shot twice," Castiel replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his lighter and cigarettes, lighting a quick match and blowing out the first puff of smoke. "One shot went through his stomach in an upward trajectory..."
"I was knocked to the ground. I had to shoot from a prone position."
"I thought so." Nodding, he stood up and went to get the ashtray as he continued to speak, "The coroner called the stomach gunshot non-fatal. If he had received timely medical attention, he probably would have survived, but they would have had to treat him in the hospital. Alastair couldn't risk that. His people are mercenaries who only do what they're paid to do. If the police had offered Summerson a lower security prison, with no Alphas and a better medical facility in which to recuperate, he would have sung like a canary."
"They killed him so he wouldn't talk," Sam stated.
"Yes."
"If they were going to kill him anyway, why didn't they let him bleed to death in the motel?" He asked, immediately realizing that it was probably a bit of a stupid question. It didn't really matter in the first place, in fact it was a good thing they killed him because then Dean wasn't the killer.
"As you said yourself, Alastair didn't mention me. He probably didn't know we knew each other..."
"He thought our dad hired you to keep an eye on us," he clarified.
"That makes sense," Castiel nodded thoughtfully and sat back in his seat, placing the ashtray at his side as he did so. "Anyway... after he made Vadim and Jacob disappear and you guys escaped, Alastair probably thought that since there was no trace of him or his men left in our territory, we'd never know what really happened at the motel. Little did he know that you would come straight to me and tell me about him."
"So Vadim and Jacob are... dead?" He asked, and yeah, he hesitated a little at the end. The two of them weren't exactly bad, and over the past few weeks he'd grown accustomed to their occasional company, even the constant nagging surveillance.
"No, just the arrest. They should be released in..." he glanced at his watch, "two hours."
"Those guys in the car were really cops?"
"They were." He shook off the ashes at the same time he took a sip of hot coffee, then took another drag before speaking. "According to our sources at the police department, someone anonymously called the Organized Crime Unit directly, told them their names, where they were going to be, what kind of car they had, and claimed to have a large amount of merchandise on them."
"That doesn't make sense. What good would it do Alastair if I got arrested?" He didn't understand. He understood that the fucker wanted to get rid of Alpha's men and probably wanted to do it so he wouldn't have to kill them. That would definitely piss off the Bratva, Dean was sure of that, and he didn't even have to ask. He also understood why he had captured Sam; he hoped that either Dean would speak up to protect his pup or Sam would speak up to protect the family Omega. But it wouldn't work with Dean in prison.
"That call was made about forty minutes before you showed up at Blue Sky."
There was a disgruntled sound from Sam, slightly akin to a growl, and then, oddly enough, he spoke quite normally.
"You spoiled their plans when you left. He wanted the police to arrest the... Jacob and Vadim first... and we were left without..." he looked at Castiel obliquely, "protection."
This time it was time for Cas to look at Sam obliquely.
"If Alastair's plan had worked, he could have conveniently gotten to you, interrogated you, tortured you, kidnapped you, or killed you. All that would be left of you would be an empty room with some blood at most. And if you were really just a contract, we'd simply write it off as a loss and not care any further. But since you came to me, he decided to try and wait for you. He probably didn't think the police would wait that long just for some anonymous tip. All I know for sure is that Alastair must have reckoned that when his plan collapsed, he'd clash with us. That tells me that whatever John Winchester stole from him is worth a lot. If you have any idea what it is... or if your brother does, I need you to tell me," Alpha said urgently, leaning towards Dean and choking on his cigarette as he did so. Blue eyes were fixed on him with that familiar intensity, as if he could see right into his soul and stomach.
"Neither of us knows. If we knew, we'd tell you," he pointed out, and because Castiel only squinted slightly, he went on to elaborate a little, "We've been here five weeks, our Alpha dropped us off at a motel and left that afternoon. He didn't come back until the next morning, said he had to leave for a while, packed a few things, his gun, got in Baba... our car, and that's the last we heard from him."
The alpha stared into his eyes for a moment longer and Dean returned the look firmly before nodding slightly.
"Good." He leaned back again. "It doesn't matter at the moment. Alastair won't find you."
"He already found us once. What's to stop him from doing it a second time?" Sam asked, the unspoken clearly audible in his tone: You?
"I didn't know someone like Alastair was after you," the Alpha replied, this time directly to Sam. "You're not exactly in the... social class that he's interested in. He built his business on usury and now he's lending to people so rich he can't go under a million. Unless your father was pretending to be a bankrupt businessman who desperately needs to pay off creditors and the banks won't lend to him anymore, I don't know how he ever got close enough to Alastair to take something important enough to go after personally."
Cas had no idea how close to the truth he probably was. Impersonating someone else was literally their daily bread and the idea of his dad getting an expensive suit, shoes and car and walking right up in front of Alastair was something Dean would totally believe. The only question was why would he do it? Now that he thought back on everything that had happened... how they had suddenly changed direction and headed for New York, even though their Alpha had avoided the big cities... the fact that he'd gotten involved with someone as visibly dangerous as Alastair, and that he'd stolen something really important that was most certainly not money or anything that could be counterbalanced by money... his sudden departure and the fact that he'd left them behind so peacefully... It all made sense, and there was only one reason why Dad would do that; their Omega Mom.
"... Same resources as me," Alpha was just finishing his sentence when Dean refocused on what he was saying. "Even if he finds you again, he won't try anything this time. I plan to make it clear to him that you are under my personal protection. Both of you."
"How will you do that?" He asked, before he could stop himself, because yeah, he was speaking a little harsher than he should have. "I met with Alastair. He's a scary psychopathic piece of shit. He tried to get me to shoot him and he laughed about it. How are you gonna stop him from coming after us if you let him live?"
"He's dangerous, but he's not stupid. When he finds out I know about everything and that you're my Omega, he'll stay away," he said with an utter confidence that gave Dean a certain sense of security, but not enough and it must have shown because Castiel leaned in and cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger to turn his face towards him. "Look at me, Dean," he challenged, and Dean did so a little reluctantly. "This apartment is in the heart of our territory, just fifteen minutes from Blue Sky. It's an orderly, safe neighborhood where people like Alastair's men get attention, and my own men took up residence in the apartment across the hall yesterday. And you and your brother have an arsenal big enough to defeat a small army. You're both safe, do you understand me?" He asked the question in a tone that made it impossible to answer in the negative, and Dean didn't want to.
"Yes, Alpha."
"That's good," Cas hummed contentedly, leaning over the corner of the table a little more and pressing his lips to Dean's in a quick kiss. As he pulled away, Dean noticed Sam staring at them with a frown, obviously unhappy with the fact that they were kissing, and staggering a little as if he was embarrassed as well. If the Alpha noticed, he didn't show it or didn't care because he simply let go of Dean's chin and continued, "I can't stay much longer, but I have something for you before I go," he said, reaching under the table first to pull boxes out of the bag in quick succession. "We had to get rid of your laptop and the other two phones. You were connecting them to the motel's public wifi, which Alastair could have them tapped into and then track you. Bringing them here would have meant risking them finding you. This is all new and better secured than your old laptop."
Castiel left the largest boxes in the middle of the table, but moved a pair of smaller ones, one with a cell phone and one with a tablet, in front of each of them.
"And then this," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a credit card case. It was made of black leather with a snake pattern, maybe really snake skin, and gold ornaments stamped on the corners, so it matched his bird money clip perfectly. Opening it up revealed a plethora of cards perhaps even larger than theirs, though these were probably among Alpha's real accounts that held money he actually owned. "I opened a new account this morning, transferred a sufficient amount of money into it, and set it up to receive a small amount from another of my accounts on a regular weekly basis. Unfortunately it is in my name. It would be better if it was in your name, but you can only open an account under eighteen with your parent's signature. This card," he pulled out one of the credit cards and offered it to Dean, "is at least a card for a second account user. I put it in your real name, so sign it that way, and you'll still have to sign the document I'll take back to the bank."
Dean frowned.
"We don't need the money. I have a job..."
"You're not going back there. It's not safe," he stated resolutely; Dean gasped in protest. "Alastair could be waiting for you there. If you want to work, find a new job in this neighborhood or I'll find you something in one of our businesses."
"We have other sources of money..."
"I know about your other sources," he interrupted. "Pickpocketing and begging won't support you, you said it yourself. And credit cards in fake names are no sure thing and can get you into trouble."
He looked at the card in Alpha's hands. He didn't want to take money in it, but the fact was, at least as far as work was concerned, he was right. If he even had a job anymore. Besides... come to think of it, Castiel was already paying for their motel, they were eating food they'd bought with his money, and now they were in the apartment he'd had prepared for them. Plus, he'd already taken money from him once. What difference would it make if he took a credit card? Probably none.
With mixed feelings, he took the card from him. He felt a lingering reluctance to take anything from Cas, a sort of resignation and a warm feeling of happiness that still had his Omega purring contentedly at the thought of his Alpha taking care of them.
"I need to sign this." He took a folded piece of paper out of his pants pocket, unfolded it, and placed it in front of Dean along with the gold pen he'd pulled from his inside jacket pocket.
It looked like a classic card acceptance form, probably with some changes since it was for Castiel's account, but Dean honestly didn't care much about that. He didn't even try to read it. He just carefully wrote his name on the appropriate line and slid the paper over to Alpha, who promptly shoved it back into his pocket.
"And what if someone finds out it's a card for your account? Won't that get us both in trouble?" He asked, obviously not thinking of Alastair as he did so, but rather the police and the fact that their relationship was beyond the law.
"I can have as many accounts as I want and give access to whoever I want. There's nothing illegal about it," he replied, and for who knew why his face darkened a little and his scent turned bitter. Definitely enough for Dean to decide not to argue further. "I'll have to go. Stay home tonight and my men will be driving you everywhere starting tomorrow. I want you to be supervised until I'm sure Alastair won't try anything else." He stood up, leaning his hand on the table, and his scent grew lighter just as his eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he leaned down to take his face in his hands. Dean, on the other hand, cocked his head and looked up. "I've got some work to do for tonight and then I need to get some sleep. I've been up for at least thirty hours. But I'll text you tonight, moy sladkiy, okay?" He growled in a deep voice, running his thumb over his chin.
"Sure, Alpha," he replied, bucking a little into his hand, but pausing before he could actually rub against it as he longed to. For he felt Sammy's gaze fixed on him.
Again, if Cas even noticed the little Alpha staring at them, he didn't show it at all. He let his hand slide from Dean's cheek and then straightened to his full height. Only then did he let it be known that he was still aware of Sam's presence by turning to look at him.
"Sam." He nodded.
"Ivan," Sam answered him with deliberate clarity, using his real name surely to throw him off guard. It didn't. Castiel's face remained flat and his scent unchanged as well, and he remained impassive as he turned briefly to Dean and said, "Will you walk me out?" he started for the door.
"Have another donut," he urged Sam before rising and heading after Castiel.
Alpha was already waiting for him at the door, holding a bunch of keys in his outstretched hand. He took them from him and inspected them. It was actually two bundles, each containing three keys and one front door chip. One for him and one for Sam.
"One of the keys is for the laundry room. When you go in there, knock on the door with the red doormat," Alpha instructed him as he opened the door and pointed across the hall to the opposite apartment, "and one of my men will escort you. Same if you order anything," he turned back to Dean as he held the door open and stood between them. "You'll let the delivery man upstairs and then knock on my men to take the order for you. Got it?"
"Okay, Alpha."
"Now, about your brother..." His eyes wandered briefly over Dean's shoulder. "He should start acting more polite, because what happened last night can't happen again. He might not get off so easy next time."
"He's just protecting me. He doesn't know you, that's why he's acting like this. And he's just a boy," he replied in some attempt to defend Sam and his behavior, even though he knew himself that Little Alpha couldn't go on like this.
"I understand, but my men don't," Cas said simply, because he didn't need to say more, and turned to leave. He paused still in the doorway and turned to Dean again. "I almost forgot... the password to the card is your birth year. There should be enough in the account to cover all your needs, if not, let me know. Now I really must go..." he added with a small sigh, leaning in again and this time kissing Dean on the corner of his lips, which were split. It hurt a little, but it was... nice in its own way. It was the Alpha's way of showing that he was sorry. "I'll write..."
"That's what you said. And get a good sleep."
"Take care, Omega."
"You too, Alpha."
He waited until Castiel had disappeared around the corner where the elevator was, briefly flicked his gaze to the ajar door of the opposite apartment, through which one of Alpha's men was watching them say goodbye, and then closed the door. He had planned to try and talk to his brother right now, but when he turned around, all he could make out was his back disappearing into his new room. In addition, Sam closed the door behind him a little more abruptly than necessary, though the slamming wasn't yet. Still, Dean frowned at the door and briefly considered at least admonishing him not to slam it, but then his stomach echoed with another hunger cramp that only made the general ache in his muscles worse.
Food first, while he could manage to get the new cell phone working, which he hoped would contain a contact for Castiel. Then unpack the groceries and inspect the apartment. That should give Sammy enough time to cool off a bit before trying to talk to him and explain the proper way to treat Castiel.
Yeah, that should work.
He rubbed his aching stomach and shuffled back to the kitchen.
Chapter 33
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As far as Sam was concerned, Sunday was spent in demonstrative silence or in the mode of an obnoxious bitch. Some improvement didn't come until Monday, when he emerged from his bedroom door at his usual hour, accompanied by his intense scent wafting from his bedroom. The little Alpha wore a defiant expression as he did so, as if he had just done something wrong, knew it was wrong and was proud of it. And Dean... truthfully he was a little confused, because what the hell? His little brother had never marked his territory before. Yeah sometimes toys or his favorite clothes and shoes when they were both little and he didn't want Dean touching or playing with some of his stuff (like he wanted to play with stuffed animals at ten). Again, true, he'd never had a territory to mark and here it was tempting to swagger. Dean himself had no such need, but the sterility of the apartment was unpleasant. So yeah, he could understand Sammy wanting to appropriate his room, and he was certainly all the prouder for it, since the entire apartment belonged to Castiel. What could be better than taking another Alpha's territory?
He considered for a moment what Cas would think about that, but finally came to the conclusion that until he came to Sam's room - and he had no reason to - he probably wouldn't find out. And if he did find out, he'd see what he had to say. The most important thing was that Sam was somehow reassured. So he said nothing to that and simply put a slightly overcooked egg on his plate.
With Castiel, it was... more complicated.
The incident with Alastair seemed to have severed the thread he'd felt between them when he'd walked away from him that night, and it wouldn't reconnect. He tried to make it click back together. For example, he and Sam had been watching House of the Dragon and eating takeout all Sunday, so he'd texted Alpha about it because he wanted to talk to him about something, but not about Alastair and the shit around him. Something normal. Alpha replied, but each new reply was a little more succinct than the last, and the delays were longer. By the time he'd read the plethora of necessary messages later that evening, he was sick of himself and preferred to stifle his whining Omega rather than embarrass himself further.
So now he sat in a crouch by the school fence, waiting for Sam to come out of the building and watching like an idiot the quick morning greeting and then farewell to the Alpha.
Shit! Fuck it!
Angrily, he turned off the screen and shoved his cell phone into his pocket as he tripped over a rectangular piece of hard paper. Jacob's business card. Quite a coincidence, considering the mess in his pockets. He pulled it out and looked at the private number that was written on the back. The night they'd clashed with Alastair, Castiel had talked about skinning and seemed deadly serious, but on Saturday he'd been completely cool about Jacob and Vadim. Even his scent didn't change at the mention of them. What punishment did they face for disobeying orders? And were they even alive? He couldn't help but want to know the answers.
He pulled out his phone again, saved Jacob's number, then opened the message.
Dean: hi
Dean: it's dean
Dean: jacob?
He didn't expect to get a reply at all, and he certainly didn't expect his phone to vibrate while he still had it in his hand and returned it to his pocket.
Jacob: hi
The speed was almost suspicious. Call Dean was getting paranoid, but after Friday night he was expecting anything.
Dean: how do I know you're jacob
The pause was a little longer and then a photo of Jacob's face appeared on his screen. He had a huge black eye, a properly split lip and looked pale as death. It was kind of like what he imagined someone who had just narrowly escaped a fight with a meat grinder. But at least he was alive.
Dean: dude... you look like 💩
Jacob: thanks, man.
Jacob: You need anything?
Dean: no
Dean: I wanted to see how you were doing
Dean: alpha raged
Jacob: We're alive and we haven't lost anything important, just a little bit 💲
Jacob: how are you doing?
Dean: 👍
Dean: I just got a sonofabitch on my heels
Jacob: I heard.
Jacob: I don't know anyone that Alastair himself is out to get. You piss off everyone, don't you? 😆
Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise at Jacob's openness, but then he grinned in amusement. Granted, he knew that anything he said to Beta would get to Alpha immediately, but it was nice to chat with someone who actually answered.
Dean: yeah
Dean: I'm fucking big boss
Dean: I’m piss of big boss
Dean: I'm awesome
Jacob: Like a superstar.
Jacob: You drink beer?
Dean: Is the Pope Catholic?
Jacob: When the shitstorm is over, we'll have one. Okay?
Dean: 👍
Overlooked on his phone. Sam walked towards him from his school building, slouching as usual, so his long hair fell into his eyes - Damn. He really ought to find five minutes with a pair of scissors and take care of this hippie parade - with his two Science Club buddies nipping at his heels. Dean squinted slightly and stood up. What the hell...? It looked like Sammy had found a pack. Sure, they weren't schoolyard bullies, but it was still more than he expected from his little brother. He was always a loner, holed up in the corner of the library or the comic book store until closing time.
On the other hand, he also wasn't in the habit of snarling at other Alphas, marking his territory and suffering random bursts of knottiness.
Sam stood at his side, threw on his bag, and turned to his friends: "Bye guys. And I'll see you tomorrow."
The Betas, who had remained standing almost at attention two paces away, took this as permission to leave, both Sam's returning the greeting at almost the same moment, and after a quick glance at Dean, made their way hastily to the gate. He saw them off with a glance as they disappeared into the crowd coming out.
"Man, when did you find a pack?"
Sammy looked up at him, his face contorted into its usual somberness, and he quickly moved his gaze away.
"They're not my pack. And shut up about it, jerk."
"Shut up yourself, bitch. They're definitely your pack."
"Yeah?" he flicked an eye at him. "Where's your pack? You seemed... on the right track with Lisa..."
"I got Alpha..." he replied simply, because that, he hoped, said it all. Sam didn't need to know anything about the dead Alpha or what had happened to Lisa because of him.
"I like Lisa better."
"I'm done with Lisa. Let it go," he cut off another potential deb, successfully ignoring Sam's look as he threw an arm around his shoulders. "Are we going, or do you want to keep your ass here for a while?"
From the little Alpha's chest came what sounded like the rattle of coins in a plastic food box. Probably a swallowed growl or something, either way it didn't sound the least bit dangerous - as if anything could ever sound dangerous coming from him - so Dean just grinned in amusement and pulled him tighter to him as they headed out the gate together.
In the morning, he and Alpha's boys had argued that while one of them could wait for them outside the school, they had to be on the other side of the road and their car had to be parked at least two corners away. After the Betas made their call, they came to a general consensus on this, so when he looked across the road he saw a redhead named Nikon following them. They headed off in the direction where they had agreed to stand for a ride that morning. Beta ran across the street and joined them behind their backs, like a first class creep.
They rounded two corners, where not only was a car waiting with Mr. Thick Eyebrows, who was supposedly named Arsen or something, but surprisingly, a van was parked right in front of the car. Dean already recognized it from a distance. It was the same florist's van he'd had the pleasure of driving once. As they got closer, the van door opened, Yuri popped out one side and Pyotr the other, then the back door opened and Boris climbed out.
One of the van's back doors remained open, and through it could be seen some kind of gray, dirty cloth, similar to the kind you use to cover plants with, say, for the winter.
"Messrs. Winchester," Pyotr addressed them as they reached the level of the old Honda they had arrived in that morning and strode to meet them. "We're in a bit of a hurry, so I won't be too long. I need you to look at something in our van, kid," he addressed Dean, then quickly slid over to Sam. "Your brother should stay here though."
"I'm going to go look with Dean."
"There's nothing there for your eyes," Pyotr replied conciliatorily, completely resistant to Sam's Alpha gaze, and turned back to Dean. "Nikon here will watch him for you for a while. It really won't take more than a minute."
"Why can't Sam come with me? Do you have a dead body in there?" He asked half jokingly before realizing that maybe they really did have a dead body.
"I told you he wasn't stupid for an American Omega," Yuri chuckled, confirming Dean's suspicions.
Okay, Sammy had seen all kinds of shit. He'd seen Alastair's men beat him up, he'd seen someone get shot, he'd seen junkies and hookers, he'd seen Case when he wasn't in a good mood, and he'd seen Alpha's men who certainly didn't give the best impression, but he didn't need to see a dead body. He was too young for that.
"Okay, Sammy, stay here with the long man," he ordered, pointing a thumb behind him at the redhead.
"It's Sam and I'm coming with you."
"Look, what's in that van..."
"... is a dead body," he finished for him. "I get it, Dean, and I can handle it. A dead body can't hurt me. I'm not scared," he said firmly, that typical stubborn expression he'd had since he was a kid that only foretold he'd get his way. He could either take him with him and keep an eye on him, or he could entrust him to Nikon, only to find that he had his back at the exact moment that the Alpha's men opened the van and revealed the promised corpse.
"Fine, but stick with me," he agreed then.
Sam nodded and stepped closer to Dean's side.
No one said anything in response, only Pyotr made way for the van. He walked up to the open door of the van, Sam standing to his right, and looked at the rising dirty substance, which he already knew he probably knew what was hidden. Alpha's men gathered around their backs to form a sort of barrier against the gaze of passing people, and then Pyotr peeled back a corner of the cloth along with the thick plastic that was underneath.
He recognized the face he saw instantly.
It was Beta, pointing the gun at Sam's head. He couldn't mistake him for anyone else because the sight of his little brother in imminent danger of his life literally burned into his brain. He'd dreamt about it last night. Again. So it didn't matter that the fucker had a deadly pale face and bulging eyes full of emptiness.
"Do you know him?" Pyotr asked him.
"Yeah. He's one of the guys who broke into our motel."
"He was aiming for my head," Sam added quite confidently. His voice trembled only slightly, contradicting the rush of sour fear that pinched Dean's nose.
He glanced quickly at the little Alpha. At first glance he seemed to be holding up quite well, but Dean noticed that his wind-reddened cheeks had paled, and the way he gripped the strap of his bag tightly. The first time he'd seen a dead body, it had been from a distance and in a dark alley, and even that made him feel really weird. Now they had a dead guy literally within arm's reach, closer, actually, than Dean had ever seen a dead guy. It wasn't getting to him anymore, not as much as he'd expected (or maybe it should), but it was taking a toll on Sam. He was taking it like a man though, and since Dean didn't want to ruin it for him, he didn't ask if he was okay, just took a small half step and leaned his shoulder against his.
Sammy cast a quick glance towards him and his nostrils flared as he took in Dean's Omega scent, whereupon the tension in his shoulders eased a little.
"Otlichna! I'll tell the boss we've got the right one," Pyotr said with satisfaction, turning and, while pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, stepping aside to make his call.
He shot him a look, which was why he didn't notice Sam approach the van and reach inside. He only noticed when he grabbed the tarp. He made a move to stop him from revealing more of the dead body, but it was too late. The little Alpha pulled aside both the cloth and the plastic tarp, revealing the second body.
It was an Asian woman with a chubby face, painted so heavily that it was impossible to tell how old she was. Obviously a hooker. The sleeve of her purple shiny jacket, her long nails painted green, and a piece of pink tank top that showed the black lace of her bra confirmed it. Her purple-painted lips were parted just enough to show her small Omega fangs drenched in drying foamy blood, which also stained her chin and the half of her face that was turned to the ground. And it had gotten on the plastic sheet, too. She made a foamy splatter there. His training kicked in immediately; the foamy blood meant her lungs were injured and the spatter on the tarp meant she was still alive when they covered her with plastic.
"Who... who is she?" Sam asked, this time not as firmly as before.
“Whore." Yuri shrugged casually. "She was just giving him a blow job when we caught him. She saw us, so she must have gone too."
"Told you we should have waited for her to finish. There'd be no witnesses," Boris grumbled.
"Then I couldn't prove you right. If you get a boner and die, then you get a boner after you die. Do you want to see it again?" Yuri asked cheerfully.
"Potseluy menya v zadnitsu!" Boris waved his hand and contorted his face. "I don't want to see a dead man's hard cock again!"
"Pochemu? It's funny!" Yuri quipped.
The slap came to the back of Yuri's head literally out of nowhere. With a yelp, Curly leaned forward, revealing Pyotr standing behind him.
"Sidi szadi radi etogo der'ma, printsessa," the hulking Beta said something that clearly didn't please Yuri, but made Boris grin happily. Then Pyotr turned to them, "Batshuka says he's expecting you in the Doll. Little Alina Grigorievna has baked the pie."
"I can't let Sam go home alone. Alastar might go after them, and I don't even know where we live properly..."
"Da, da..." nodded Pyotr impatiently. "He knows that. He's expecting you around six. You just need to take your brother home and then let him take you to the Doll. Nikon! Arslan! Voz'mite ikh domoy! A zatem otvezite Dina Yankovicha v Kukle k bossu!" He howled over his shoulder at their ride today, then fixed kind eyes along with a small smile back at Dean. "Take care," he said, briefly placing his large, pudgy hand on Dean's arm before turning and heading for the passenger seat while gesturing for his men to get in as well.
Boris grinned again as he headed for the driver's seat, while Yuri snorted grumpily and reluctantly climbed into the cargo area next to the corpses.
Yuri barely had time to close the back door before the van started up and pulled away from the curb.
The car left a stench in the air behind it that Dean guessed must have been leaking oil somewhere, but that didn't mask the rancid smell of rancid olive oil, which mixed with sandalwood in an unpleasant combination, and trailed away from Sam.
Sam frowned as he watched the van pull away, holding the strap of his bag tightly, and a small flash of white fang could be seen as he clamped his own lip between his teeth in hard thought. It was the look he gave when something was really bothering him. And Dean had an idea what. It was all the things around him. The corpses, the guns, the ease with which Alpha's men talked about killing. He used to have a problem with it, but as the days and weeks went by, it sort of became part of his life and slowly it stopped bothering him, but Sammy? Shit! He was just a puppy! He shouldn't have witnessed such things.
"Look, buddy. What you just saw..."
"I know what I saw," Little Alpha interrupted. "I know very well what I saw... I... read about all this stuff and I understand it, okay?"
He looked back at the Alpha men standing by the car. They were within earshot, so he stepped up to Sam and lowered his voice.
"I know it's shit. It scares me too, and I don't like it, but..."
"It's our life now and we have to accept it," Alpha finished for him.
He pulled away a little in surprise. Of course Sam was right. This was all their life now, or at least it was the life that awaited Dean. Sam might still have something better, safer ahead of him. He could go to the university he wanted to go to, be a lawyer, a doctor, or a scientist of some sort. That would be a good fit for him. He'd seen a lot, but maybe there was still something he could do. If Dean had stayed with Castiel, and if he'd sworn Sammy would never talk, then maybe he'd have let him go... maybe with his dad...
"When Dad gets back, he'll take you out of here with it. Away from all this. I'm in over my head, I can't leave, but you still can," he whispered urgently, hoping he was telling the truth.
"Dad's not coming back, Dean! He left us here, you know!" He threw up his hands with a cry of frustration, his scent growing even more rancid with tainted oil. "He left us in the hands of the Russians and ran away from Alastair, or maybe he's gone after some verified lead again! And left us! And for what? Mother? She's dead, so what does she matter anymore!"
"You don't talk about Mum like that!" Dean raised his voice.
"Why not? I don't even know her. She doesn't mean anything to me and she shouldn't mean anything to Dad. He should be looking out for us!"
"He cares about us!"
"No, he doesn't. You take care of us! You work, you shop, you make all the arrangements. You, not our Alpha! Even now..." his voice trailed off, his entire face slouched, his scent souring, and he lowered his gaze to the ground.
"Even now what?"
"Nothing..." whispered Sam half-loudly, turning away. "Nothing at all..." he muttered and started back towards the Honda.
Dean watched as Nikon opened the back door and Sammy climbed in, a cold weight settling in his stomach. He knew exactly what Sam was going to say. He'd thought Dean was with Castiel because they had a roof over their heads, food, money and protection in return, but that wasn't the case. Was it? Shit, he didn't even know anymore. He'd taken it that way in the beginning, but now it wasn't like that for him anymore. And even though he knew rationally that for Castiel it was more like a business, just as Sam had thought, Dean just couldn't and wouldn't see it that way anymore. He knew how ridiculous and childish and whiny it was, he knew, and every time he was somehow reminded of it he felt like shit, but he just...
He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, just for a small moment to calm himself and suppress those thoughts. He'd just get into a fucking vicious cycle of thoughts, but it wouldn't change anything.
He opened his eyes again and, calm and composed, climbed into the car behind Sam.
°°0°°
He took a drag from his cigarette and reached blindly to the ashtray to wipe the ashes off as he continued to watch the action on the screen.
The skinny junkie/dealer who referred to himself as 'Chief' was hanging there by his hands, chained to a pulley in the basement of one of their houses. His face was smashed beyond recognition, several teeth knocked out, a stream of blood mixed with snot pouring from his nose, and tears again from his eyes, washing away the blood flowing from the broken arches of his eyebrows. He was missing an ear, only one, of course, so he could listen to the others' questions. The remains of his shirt covered his cut and burned chest and his pants were wet with piss and shit. A typical picture of a job well done.
"... I don't know... I don't know any more... please... I'm scared... please..." a hoarse whiny voice full of gagging on his own blood and mucus poured from the iPad speaker.
"Then there's just whimpering and some more pissing, shitting and vomiting," Oleg informed him. "You wouldn't believe how much shit a thin noodle like that can hold."
He turned off the video. The first round of shitting was amply enough, he didn't need to see any more. He already considered this “Chief” a waste before he cried like a baby and wet his pants for the first time. Nothing could change his opinion of him.
"Repeat everything he told you," he ordered Oleg, handing him the iPad.
"Not as much as I'd hoped," Oleg replied. "He said he found the first batch of Ruby in his mailbox about five months ago. There were fifty doses and a note with a minimum sale price and a place to put sixty percent of the sale. He said he thought we gave it to him."
A typical advertising package they did as well. Most of the time there wasn't much, if any, profit in it. It served to get the drug out to the junkies so they got used to it, and the end dealers so they could make big profits. Then, when they demanded a larger percentage of the sales, the dealer raised the prices to the customers to keep his own profits, and the customers, already used to the drug, were willing to pay. Depending on the type and kind of goods, the introduction of a new product took anywhere from a few weeks to several months.
Carmine was an expensive, high-end drug, hard to sell on the street, so it would not make much profit even in five months. But even so, its sales would soar and they would hear of its presence in their territory much sooner. Since that hadn't happened, Chief must have had a tiny customer base of wealthier customers that hadn't grown in months, and no one seemed to be pushing for it to grow. It was pretty obvious that the point here was not to get Ruby back on the market, but to lure the idiot dealer into making a big profit and gaining his loyalty and interest. And leave a few dozen people on the street taking Ruby's crumbs to make it look to the police like a new wave of Crimson madness was breaking.
"We never handed him the product that way. Didn't he find it suspicious?" He took a drag and blew smoke.
"It did, but he thought someone was trying to make a buck and the big bosses didn't know about it," Oleg offered an explanation that unfortunately made sense. It didn't happen very often, but every now and then there were a few overly ambitious individuals who didn't have the makings of a rank, but wanted power and more money. They usually ended up as corpses in shallow graves.
"Next...?" Oleg prompted, leaving unspoken for now the possibility that one of them might actually be behind the discovery of Carmine in their territory. Right now, when he was about to strike at Alastair, he didn't want to give his men the impression that he was planning to go against his own people as well. Not unless he had reason and enough evidence to do so.
"Two months ago, he got a large dose in his mailbox and instructions to find the junkie and make him take all the pills. Also enclosed was a thousand dollars."
"And he just did it?"
"He let it sit for a long time because he didn't know how to find someone to give that dose of Ruby Crumbs to or how to get him to eat it. But he was also afraid of what would happen to him if he disobeyed. Finally, he confided in a woman named Rachel, who he said was his girlfriend. She was the one who chose who to give the pills to. And she suggested that they could drug him, stick a thin tube down his throat, put the pills down his throat and pour cheap whiskey down his throat."
When a junkie was promised a shot for something, he could be remarkably creative. In fact, they could weave absurdly elaborate plans to accomplish something as simple as going to the store to buy milk or picking up welfare at the office to pay a debt to their dealer. Their plans almost never worked, usually because they didn't have the focus and energy to follow through.
The plan to administer a lethal dose of Carmine to someone while they were unconscious after smoking a large dose of crack was simple and workable. The use of a thin hose ensured minimal damage to the esophagus, which the coroner attributed to lifestyle, and the alcohol only enhanced the impression that he had taken the pills himself.
It was all done thoughtfully and flawlessly. It wasn't the work of a junkie.
"This Rachel was his customer?"
"Not exactly," Oleg replied, tapping his finger on the table and leaning over its corner to Castiel. "She looked suspicious to me, too. I questioned him thoroughly about her. She started coming to him for fentanyl around the time he got his first shipment, or at least he thought it was then. She paid honestly for a while, but then she started claiming she couldn't pay. He was putting her on credit because he wanted to fuck her and hoped that if she made a big enough debt with him he would make her lie down. That's what happened. She paid him in bed and somehow she happened to move in with him."
Brotherhood members were strictly forbidden to have sex paid for their goods. The fact that one of them had squirted between a girl's legs could not make up for the financial loss that such behavior brought. Plus, all the junkies were like giant leeches who did whatever it took to get their dealer to stick. Having a stoned half-whore attached to them only kept them from working.
If Castiel's men wanted to have a good time, they could use any of their girl's services at any time for free. And if they also wanted someone to clean and cook in their home, the Bratva ran a variety of legal businesses in New York through which they laundered money and employed girls who weren't pretty and young enough to go to work and pole dance or to be sold as mail-order brides. Every single one of them, Beta or Omega, was grateful when one of Castiel's men took her in, got her a better job and a nicer home than the shared apartments they were staying in. It made the travel debts they had with the Bratva easier to pay right away.
But their freelancers, that was something else. The small street dealers had a fixed monthly take of goods. They always had to buy the goods on the first of the month and at the same time they were given a sum of money that was still expected from them at the end of the month. What selling price and sales tactics they chose was up to them. If they didn't sell everything or at too low a price and didn't have enough money left over for themselves, that was their problem. Likewise, it was their problem if they wanted to feed a junkie who was willing to spread her legs for a fix. They could also get high on their own, which was something the Brotherhood members were also forbidden to do. All this as long as they paid. One missed payment meant a pointed conversation. Two; a brief encounter with the fists of Oleg's men. Three; outright permanent disruption of cooperation, usually by ending up in a dark alley with a plastic bag stretched over their heads; who knows why Kot was particularly fond of this method of killing
So if someone wanted to get across the bed to a dealer like “Chief”, there was nothing hard about it at all.
"That girl was definitely not a junkie, though," Oleg voiced his thoughts aloud. "Chief did give her drugs regularly, but he never saw her actually take them, and his neighbors certainly didn't describe her as a junkie. They said she was a pretty Beta blonde with brown eyes, a nice build... like big tits and a butt, you know... and she owned a motorcycle. Not the skinny, stoned, smelly bitch that types like Chief usually have."
"And that's the only description you have?"
"Unfortunately, yes, and this..." he added, flipping through the iPad for a moment before setting it down in front of Castiel. "One of the neighbors tried to take a picture of her motorcycle and ended up with his head smashed in by a motorcycle helmet."
The photo was too blurry to pinpoint a specific make, but it was definitely a lighter motorcycle in dark blue. There could have been thousands of these in the city, and even if they had a much more detailed description of Rachel, since she was obviously planted, she probably wasn't in the driver database.
"Not much," he pushed his iPad back and choked on his cigarette. "Chief was just supposed to be a decoy. We should have killed him and been satisfied that we'd solved the whole problem. But she, Rachel, knows who brought the Crimson into our territory. We need to listen to her."
"I know, and I'm already working on it."
"When you have her, let me know right away. I want to be there when you talk to her."
"Sure, boss."
There was a triple knock on the door. Castiel turned to them, as did Oleg and Pytor, who motioned for Boris to open it. As the door swung open and Boris pulled back the heavy curtain, not only did the smell of food wafting from the kitchen permeate the room, but also the smell of the dozens of people who were currently in the bar, as well as their voices. A lot of voices, because it was almost full.
In walked Arslan, an elderly Tartar who had been released from prison a few weeks ago and whom Castiel didn't particularly know. However, Pyotr eagerly vouched for him, as he knew him from his days in Kazan. That was why, albeit a little reluctantly, he had entrusted him with looking after his Dean. He certainly couldn't be worse than Jacob, who had already failed twice.
Arslan stopped just two steps outside the door and gave each of them a nod, fixing his gaze on Castiel for a little longer before lowering his eyes a little and letting them wander. He suspected the reason for Arslan's behavior. He'd been arrested when Pugal was still in power, and as Pyotr had made sure to mention, he'd been in Medvedev's security detail then. Seeing someone else in his former boss's place must have been a surprise.
"We brought your Omega, Castiel Konstantinovich," he said in Castiel's direction.
"Have him sit at the bar and have a drink."
"Yes, sir," he replied respectfully.
"Oh, and... don't let it be anything alcoholic. I've heard too much English from the place."
"I'll take care of this, sir."
He pursed his lips a little at the second 'sir' address.
"You may go."
The noise of the room echoed again as Boris opened the door again and Castiel's nostrils flared. He knew beforehand that it was probably a losing effort, but his Alpha simply had the urge to try and sniff out Dean's in the ghosts that flowed towards him. The smell from the kitchen was too strong though, and there were at least three other Omegas sitting in the place besides Dean by the time he got here to the Doll. There might have been more since then. He couldn't make out individual smells, only that there were some Omegas there as well as a few Alphas.
The door closed again and the rush of scents stopped, leaving only the remnants of it disappearing into the running air conditioning.
He slowly turned his head back to his men.
"Anything else?" he asked, his gaze sliding from one to the other.
"I've got news on John Winchester," came Pyotr's voice from the other side of the table. "And they're really fresh. This morning he rented a room under one of his assumed names just outside Lincoln, Nebraska. He made a reservation for three days. It's not certain he'll really stay that long, but so far it's the best chance we've had to get to him."
Pyotr was right about that. Finding Winchester had taken some time, but once they had him and knew what names he used, it wasn't hard to track him down. The main problem was that he acted like a rabbit driven by hounds. He zigged and zagged, occasionally disappearing for days at a time, randomly veering off the trail, but still... more or less heading in one direction; back to New York. The need to take him out grew greater with every mile towards Castiel's town, and this was really the first opportunity he had to send his men after him and hope they could get to him.
He could give the order and by tomorrow morning at the latest his men would be at Winchester's door. Or he could have him disposed of in a slightly more elegant but riskier way. If that failed, he would have to wait for another equally good opportunity, or for the moment when Winchester got into his territory. Then he'd have to get rid of him before Dean even knew his father was in town.
He decided to take risks.
“Do we know where the last of Alastanir’s men are?”
“Yeah. He goes to the same bar every night. We’ll take care of him tonight.”
“When you have it, I will arrange a personal meeting with Alastair. I will hand him the garbage he left in our yard, but also the olive branch in the form of the place where John Winchester is located and all the information we have about him.”
“I understand,” said Pyotr, amused, accompanied by an equally light and amused laugh from Oleg. “You want Alastair to do a dirty job for us and you will still be lustled by him, so we won’t have to wait for an attack.”
Alastair knew that Castiel knew everything. After all, when he sent his men to hunt, he did not ask them to be quiet and that one man missing in the ranks had to notice Alastair. Yet no word could be heard from him, and there was no sign that he was about to retaliate. Just as Castiel expected. Alastair chose to sacrifice two of his men, hoping that Bratva would understand it as enough compensation for breaking the contract.
This meant Alastair would not be surprised when Castiel delivered him the corpses of his men and showed how close the war was. But what he doesn’t expect is that Castiel will be willing to help him track down John Winchester. It easily gives Alastair the impression that Brattva has no interest in provoking war, and it will deepen the lukewarm relationship between the Brotherhood and Alastair. He will get rid of his vigilance, and when the time comes for the attack, he will not expect it.
The fact that all traces of the dead body of John Winchester will lead to Alastair was only a small, nice bonus that will benefit Castiel exclusively. And when he finally kills Alastair, Omega will be grateful not only for protecting him and his brother, but also for killing the murderer of their father. For no matter how miserable John Winchester was the Alpha and the Father, he was still Dean's Alpha, and the Father and the blood bond was always there, whether a man liked it or not Castiel knew his own.
His Alpha happily purred. The idea of a dead Alastair, the man who threatened his Omega, was almost as pleasant as the thought of eliminating the only Alpha who could claim Dean and win. Although it would have been even more satisfying to break John Winchester's neck personally, Castiel was a reasonable and civilized person and knew that Dean would never forgive him for murdering his father. It would be best if the old Winchester's corpse had nothing to do with Castiel or the Bratva.
"Yes, that's exactly my plan," he agreed and smiled slightly. “If that's all, you can go. And Pyotr… send Dean in.”
“With the greatest pleasure.” The sprawling Beta smiled.
Notes:
Otlichno! - Great!
Potseluy menya v zadnitsu! - Kiss my ass!
Pochemu? - Why?
Sidi szadi radi etogo der'ma, printsessa - You're gonna sit in the back for this shit, princess.
Voz'mite ikh domoy! A zatem otvezite Dina Yankovicha v Kukle k bossu - Take them home. And take Dean Jankovich to Doll to see the boss.
Chapter 34
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ginger and Mr. Eyebrows were a volatile duo. Nothing like Jacob and Vadim, who were friendly and cool with Dean. Let alone Yuri - thank God for that - with a mouth full of bullshit that Boris only commented on with a grunt of approval or dismissal. Nikon and Arslan mostly talked together, quietly and in Russian, and communicated with Dean only minimally. They greeted, asked, thanked, and that was it. He guessed that the older one, Mr. Eyebrows, didn't even speak much English, because it was mostly the Ginger who spoke to Dean, and it certainly wasn't because Arslan was some kind of silent mouse. He was chatting readily and cheerfully with his crony.
When they arrived at the Doll it was Nikon again who asked him to stay in the car while Arslan wordlessly got out and ran into the bar. He didn't quite have a problem with that, because it was raining outside and the wind was chilly, and also because he felt uneasy about meeting Alpha. What if their encounter was as awkward as Dean's efforts to keep the conversation lively in the chat room yesterday? If so, he didn't know what to do, because he kind of... didn't know what to talk to Cas about, besides movies and maybe school. Sure, Alastair was here, but that was the last topic he wanted to bring up.
Arslan came back, said something through the open window to Nikon, who just nodded and got out. A moment later, the door next to Dean opened. Arslan was holding it open and to Dean's small surprise, he had an umbrella in his hand and set it in front of the door, so he himself could get wet while Dean could steam dry. What the hell? Was he made of sugar to melt in the rain? Sure, he didn't want to get unnecessarily wet outside, but he wasn't going to crumble when he ran a few feet to Doll's door.
"It's okay, I'll run over..." he tried to dismiss this stupid favor, but the flat look Mr. Eyebrows gave him clearly told him that he either didn't understand or didn't want to understand or possibly both.
So with an inward sigh, he accepted the coddling and let himself be led nicely dry to the door where Nikon was already waiting to open it for him.
Immediately a strong mixture of smells hit his nose. The ones from the kitchen, full of cabbage, garlic and onions, but also lots of people who had just dined at the Doll. It was almost completely full, except for a few seats at tables for four, where only three guests were seated. Cheerful voices boomed intensely in both Russian and English, accompanied by laughter and, from one far corner, the whistling of a few children.
Dean ran a brief glance over all the people, took in the air once more, and strode straight for the back room, when Arslan blocked his path, gestured to the bar with a flourish, and said in a gruff but polite tone of voice:
"Please. Sit down."
He glanced toward the bar.
"Dude, there's no space."
"If there isn't, we'll make it," Nikon stated simply from behind Dean's back.
He turned to him and watched as the red-haired Beta walked over to the nearest guy sitting at the bar. A Beta indeed too, short, but burly and with a huge belly. Kind of the typical pub type who would sit at the bar after work and sit until closing time, drinking beer, cracking nuts and watching the game of whatever sport was currently on the screen above the bar. The only difference between him and those he knew very well was nationality and language. And if Dean asked him to leave or just move on, a guy like that would tell him to fuck off. Whether because of his age or his secondary gender. He didn't treat Nikon that way. At first he'd looked dismissive and in a who dares throw him away from the bar sort of way, but then the Alpha man had put his tattooed hand in front of the guy and he'd immediately turned away.
He didn't argue, didn't hesitate, grabbed his beer, slid off the bar stool and quickly made his way to the wall. As he passed Dean, he gave him only a quick glance before promptly lowering his eyes.
Mr. Eyebrows beckoned him again to the newly vacated seat, which had also been properly dry cleaned between the time Dean had approached him, and just as he swung up onto the stool a coaster had already landed in front of him, with a dewy bottle on it...
"Ginger beer? Really? I might as well get a soda," he commented, honestly a little disappointed, and held up the bottle as he looked first at the bartender and then at his two bodyguards.
"We don't serve alcohol to minors," the bartender replied after which he looked at Dean's watchdogs, and pointed to a sign above the bar that proclaimed that a person had to be 21 to get their beer.
"Yeah, right..." he boomed with a small grin. He understood, there were just different rules here in the pub than back in Alpha's private lounge. He didn't need to cause a fuss, so he just took a deep drink.
He rolled the ginger taste across his tongue as he looked around. The guy next to him was staring a little, almost too much, so he took in the smell, but it was just Beta. So he returned the stare with a toothy grin, causing the guy to turn away. That was the most interesting thing around, so he turned on his stool, leaned his elbows on the bar, and, swinging his bottle, looked at his bodyguards.
"Shall we chat?" He winked at Nikon.
The redhead frowned slightly.
"About what?"
"I don't know... maybe about why I'm sitting here and not there?" He nodded his head towards the back room.
"He has a meeting."
A short and simple answer, which proved to be true the next moment when the door opened and two men came out. Pyotr, he recognized the one immediately, but he never saw the other man. He was definitely shorter than Dean, not by much, but if they were facing each other it would have been obvious by now. He was close to Dean in build too, though all the muscles he'd had before were softened by age, and the t-shirt and jeans covered a small belly button. He had a military haircut that emphasized his large ears in an unpleasant way, plus he wore earrings in one. His eyes were small, almost pig-like, and when he passed Dean, he kept them fixed directly on him.
He returned the look with calm. That didn't please the guy much, he probably expected to sit on his ass from his rugged looks and the tattoo on his neck. Well... tough luck. Dean wasn't afraid of him. Maybe a few weeks ago he'd still be wary, but not today. He wasn't going to humiliate himself in front of him, but when he saw a couple of guys rise from the table by the window-the same one where he'd last seen the Golem-and one of them went to open the door for the pig-eyed one, he remembered Castiel's words about showing respect to some people. He didn't see his tattoo, but yeah, he looked important enough, so he nodded and waved his bottle at him in a sort of, slightly clumsy, salute. The guy paused, but then one corner of him twitched in a smile and nodded back before walking out into the rain.
Pyotr's large hand landed on his forearm, the fingers somewhat swollen with several gold rings cutting into them.
"Good to see you again, kid." The hulking Beta smiled, and the scent of the sea, which definitely smelled of happiness, bravely made its way through the thick cologne. Wasn't he even more perfumed than the first time Dean had seen him?
"Oh, hey... um," he slipped behind Pyotr's back to the door to the back room. "Can I see him or is he still working?"
"No, we're done. I'll take you to him," he replied, putting his hand away and stepping back a little.
Dean put down his ginger beer, slid off the barstool and made his way toward the back door. Pyotr joined him at his side
"How's your brother?" the burly Beta asked.
He gave him a confused look.
"You saw him a few hours ago."
"Da... da... but those last few days might have been a lot for such a young boy."
"Yeah... well... no, Sammy's handling it. He's a strong and smart puppy."
"Like his brother."
"I'm not a puppy anymore," he didn't allow himself to remind himself, not only raising his eyebrows eloquently, but looking meaningfully at the door they were standing in front of. Pyotr was acting like a nice uncle, and Dean had gotten the impression from those few encounters that when he wasn't selling drugs or carting dead bodies around town, he might be exactly that kind of nice uncle, but he certainly didn't have naive ideas about Castiel and Dean's relationship.
Beta gave him a longer look.
"No, you're not a puppy anymore, but you're not much older than my nephews, either," he pointed out, turning away to knock three times on the door. "Have a good time and enjoy your pie," he added, patting Dean on the arm and returning to the bar.
Boris opened the door for him, and Dean's stomach clenched with a little tension as he walked into the back room.He really wasn't sure what to expect after Castiel's reticent behavior yesterday, but once he walked in, his concern almost immediately fell away.
Cas had just been holding a glass of beer, but as soon as he saw Dean he immediately set it down, rising from his seat and striding towards him with his usual insistent openness, arms outstretched in an offering of a hug. No longer hesitating, he instead hurried into Alpha's arms, wrapping an arm around his waist and sniffing his neck, enjoying the heavy scent of roasted cherries full of honeyed sweetness. Castiel did the same. He buried his nose in his throat and purred contentedly with such intensity that Dean felt his chest quiver. He almost responded the same way, but the feeling of insecurity was still there, so he pulled away instead.
"Hello Dean..." he murmured in a deep, gravelly voice full of satisfaction, his eyes squinting and a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he cupped Dean's chin and lifted his face a little to press a light kiss to the injured corner.
"Hey Alpha," he returned the greeting, a smile of his own on his face.
The blue lagoons of Alpha's eyes warmed, whereupon he lightly ran his nose from Dean's chin across his jaw to his ear, took another deep breath of his Omega scent, and then almost let go with a small sigh. He left his palm resting low on Dean's back and used it to guide him towards the table.
This time the table wasn't as fancy as the last time he'd been here. There was a simple red and white checkered tablecloth, plates and cutlery, and a half-drunk pint of beer at Alpha's place. He definitely liked it better this way, it was less weird and more cool, though it was still funny that Cas helped him out of his jacket and held his chair again. A little less elegant than the first time, but still...
"Tell the kitchen to get the food and then leave us alone," he ordered Boris as he walked back to his seat from Dean, handing him his jacket on the way.
He watched Beta hang up his jacket to make sure it was safe and then escorted him out the door with a look before looking across the table at Case. The alpha had already managed to sit up, leaning back comfortably, one hand hooked behind the back of the chair, and with his head tilted slightly towards his shoulder, he watched Dean from under his squinted eyelids. His face was furrowed with deep lines of relaxation and his lips curled a little in a smile. He looked the epitome of contentment and calm, but at the same time his gaze was fixed on Dean with his usual intensity, as if he were the center of Alpha's universe.
His Omega hummed contentedly, happy to be with his Alpha. That nice, heavy, warm feeling of a furry blanket spun from Cas' cherry scent began to spread from his belly into his body, and his own happy Omega's scent mingled with it in the air. In a piece of his rational brain, it still seemed stupid and against everything he'd ever thought he wanted, but after the shit he'd been through the last few days... Damn, he deserved at least a few minutes of dumb happiness didn't he? Forget about Alastair, forget about his lost dad and his hunt for his mum's killer that had nearly cost them their lives, and frankly forget about his stupid, foul-mouthed little brother.
"Mne nravitsya smotret' na tebya. Vy ochen' krasivy."
Dean raised an eyebrow.
"You know I understand some of this now, right?"
"Yes."
"And you know it's stupid when you keep saying those things?"
"A matter of point of view." Alpha shrugged slightly with the arm of the hand he had hooked behind the back of the chair, then leaned forward and rested his forearm on the table. "Moy Din..." Cas repeated his name, warmth in his voice and warmth in his squinted eyes, and reached across the table.
He placed his hand in his, admittedly still with a little hesitation, but certainly not reluctantly. The moment he did, long, tattooed fingers wrapped firmly but gently around his hand, and Castiel drew their joined hands together. He lifted them off the table and leaned in just enough to plant a warm kiss on each of Dean's balls. One finger at a time, and with each touch of cracked lips, his Omega growled
"I've asked Ulyana Leonidovna to include pies on tonight's menu. Because of you. You like it, don't you?"
"Yeah. I'll never turn down pie. In fact, it's the only reason I'm here," he pointed out defiantly, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, really the only reason?" Alpha cocked his head to the side, amusement flashing in his eyes.
"If you don't give me another, Alpha..."
An amused smile twitched Castiel's corners and his chest rumbled. Dean's lips lifted in an even wider grin, too, and another wave of heat settled in his belly. It made him so stupidly happy and proud when he could make Alpha laugh.
A knock interrupted the moment. Castil let go of his hand and straightened, and Dean withdrew his arm from the table, turning his gaze to the door just as Alpha had.
"Vkhodit'!"
The Beta waitress he'd known from his last visit entered the room. She'd baked here too, if he remembered correctly. She carried a tray of beer for Case, a glass of milk, a tray with several bowls, and one plate topped with pancakes. And also a sort of Omega smell, rosemary and chamomile, a little pungent but nice, but it certainly couldn't belong to a Beta waitress. And it wasn't. An Omega girl about Dean's age, maybe a little younger, emerged from the doorway, looking so much like the waitress that it just had to be her sister. She was carrying a plate with a whole apple pie on it. The pastry was a perfect golden color and whole quarters of beautifully browned apples peeked out of the filling, which was obviously made with fresh ingredients. This was none of the frozen prefabricated stuff they toasted in the little electric ovens at gas stations or many diners. Dean could tell this at a glance, even though he could reliably turn even a frozen pie in the oven into a lump of coal. He'd tried it once, and it hadn't gone well.
"Pie..." he crooned wistfully, watching the waitresses place their load on the table.
The pie landed at his side, while the pancakes landed at Castiel's. He noticed it casually because... god! He couldn't tear his eyes away from the pie and his nose away from the incredible smell that made his mouth water and his gums tingle so pleasantly just thinking about biting into the pie.
"Spasibo," Castiel thanked.
The waitresses gave him a polite nod and then finally left.
Dean had the good manners to wait until the door had closed behind them and even showed unusual restraint - hey, he could be a grown-up! - and dragged his portion onto his plate instead of going straight for the whole pie. Then, when he finally took the first bite with his spoon and popped it into his mouth, he hummed in satisfaction. It was delicious. The pastry was just the right amount of crisp, the filling had a hint of honey and a rich apple flavor. With that, the Moscow Doll was forgiven borscht for good and officially added to Dean's list of favorite restaurants and bistros.
"Hmmm..." he grumbled contentedly, his grumble turning into a low growl as he stuffed spoonful after spoonful into his mouth.
Once he had about two-thirds of the first portion in him, he felt satisfied enough to lean back with a sigh and finally open his eyes properly, by then contentedly squinted, to immediately meet Castiel's piercing gaze.
The alpha watched him from across the table, his nostrils flaring a little, his pupils dilated so that his irises were barely visible, and the little bit that was visible had a reddened ring. Dean sucked in air instinctively and could smell Castiel's musky arousal beneath the scent of apple pie, which was enough to make his throat tighten a little with embarrassment and feel his ears burning. Holy shit! He really hated this. I mean, Cas hadn't even said anything, he was just stupidly excited about Dean eating pie.
"Take it. It's great," Alpha urged, trying to get rid of the awkwardness.
"Yeah, it must be really good. You were growling," Cas pointed out, finally averting his eyes. "I'll take the blinis." And he reached for the plate of pancakes.
Dean popped two more big bites of pie into his mouth and watched as the Alpha took just two pancakes - blini? That's what he called it - he put what was probably sour cream or maybe whipped cream on them from one of the bowls, and then cherry jam. The rest of the pancakes remained completely unused, doomed to end up in the bin. He looked longingly at the pie and then back at the pancakes.
"Can I take the pie home?"
"Sure. This one's baked just for you."
"Cool. And the pancakes... you're still going to have those?" he asked. The pie was good even cold, but the pancakes were best warm.
The alpha raised his eyebrows slightly.
"No..."
"Great," he hummed contentedly, skipping the niceties and instead of moving on to his plate, he simply took the plate full of pancakes and all the bowls. He quickly discovered that it was indeed sour cream, and in addition to the cherry jam, there was strawberry and blueberry jam. He put it all on the pancakes and set about eating with gusto. The pancakes were a little thicker than he was used to and flavored with something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but definitely not bad.
While he ate, he glanced every now and then at Cas, who was eating his pancakes with a utensil - shit, who eats pancakes with an utensil when all you have to do is carefully stack them on a fork and pop them in your mouth - and literally bird bites, and somewhere around two-thirds of the way through the meal, he just put the utensil down as if he was done.
"You won't anymore?" he cooed over a bite.
Getting no verbal response, Cas just pushed his plate across the table to Dean. The latter smiled brightly, surprised the bits of food didn't fall between his teeth, and scraped the rest of Castiel's pancakes onto his plate.
"I'll never understand how you can eat like that," Cas commented, and it might have been a rebuke if his smile hadn't been playing at the corners of his mouth and his eyes shining with amusement.
"The trichk is learningh to breathe through your nosche."
"Oh yeah, I can do that too, but I don't use it when I eat," the Alpha stated as if to say nothing and reached for his cigarettes and lighter to light up.
A mouthful stuck in his throat, but since his mouth was full, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at Case reproachfully and reach for his glass of milk. He downed a good two-thirds of it in one gulp, then glanced over the rim of the glass at Alpha with a smirk.
"Dumbass. I almost choked," he snorted, ears burning again.
Alpha just squinted his eyes in amusement.
"Finished?" he asked, looking down at Dean's nearly empty plate.
"Almost." He popped the last bite into his mouth and quickly emptied the rest of his glass. "Dhone."
"Come here..." He held up the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette in invitation while he let the one with the cigarette drop under the table.
You could tell he didn't realize he was getting up and following Alpha until he was in motion, so easy and natural was it to accept his invitation already. And without much hesitation or thought, he took his place between Cas's spread legs so that with the table pressing down on his ass, he had nowhere to move and didn't care. He dug his fingers into Cas's hair and leaned against his shoulder, so he could feel the soft bump of his scent gland under his palm, and leaned down to kiss him. The kiss tasted mostly of the aftertaste of the cigarette he'd just smoked and just a little of jam and pancakes, but that was made up for by the burst of sweet cherry happiness and the warm hand that ran up Dean's spine to the back of his neck. The alpha pulled closer and the kiss thickened somewhat under his guidance. Other times Dean didn't mind, but the torn corner really sucked. In a way, it hurt more than a bloated belly.
With some effort, he managed to soften the kiss again, the Alpha clearly not about to give up on his prey. He only really ripped it when Castiel ran his hand under his shirt and lifted it up. That's when Dean jerked away violently and held him back with a grip of his arm before he realized it.
"No," he blurted out, immediately getting a response in the form of a frustrated growl.
It wasn't that he didn't want to continue, hell he did. And it wasn't even that they were in a public place. He was pretty sure he couldn't just walk in. No one would dare, and Boris standing or sitting outside the door was certainly guarding their privacy very carefully. It was about the damn bruises. Since Friday they had turned a beautiful shade of deep purple, turning his stomach and part of his chest into raw flesh. He'd scared himself this morning and was immediately absolutely certain that it was best to avoid showing his body to Alpha for as long as possible. In a week the bruises wouldn't look so horrific.
"Take it off. I want to see you," Alpha ordered.
The urge to obey was strong, but the desire not to upset Case unnecessarily even stronger.
"Someone can come."
"Boris won't let anyone in," he replied as expected, and tried again to unbutton Dean's shirt.
"Whoa... whoa... how about we start with you?" He tried this as he pulled Cas's hand out from under his shirt, and before the Alpha could put his hand back, he started to quickly undo the buttons of his shirt. He made it all the way down to the belt before looking up into Alpha's untouched face and his calm eyes with a slight sparkle of amusement. "That's not going to work is it?" he asked casually, and with a bit of a sigh, because it was clear by now that he might as well keep stripping him here and he wouldn't object.
"No. I'm not the shy type," he stated with a shrug. "But..." here he hesitated a little, a crease forming between his eyebrows, "we can lock up if you want?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
At this point it was starting to look like there was no way out, and a locked door would at least ensure absolute privacy, so he nodded slightly.
The alpha stood up. He swiped a few times on his way to the door. He slid the latch that was on the door, and smothered a cigarette in the ashtray on the way back before sitting down in his seat.
"Now get undressed."
He resignedly took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair next to him. Then he reached behind his neck and grabbed the fabric of his shirt. He heard a guttural growl full of possessive anger before he could pull the shirt over his head, and a burst of bitterness with a tinge of sour fear assaulted his nostrils the next instant. And a moment later he felt Alpha's hands on his hips. He automatically wrapped his fingers around his wrists, partly to ease the tightness of his grip.
"Alastair's men?"
"Yeah..."
Gold flashed as Cas licked the right side of his upper lip, his eyes scanning Dean's torso like he was some damn Superman and could look inside.
"That's not from punching or kicking," he commented, looking up at Dean. "Coins in a sock?"
He wasn't surprised that Castiel could tell the difference in the shape of the bruises.
"Soap in a pillowcase."
Instead of the further anger he'd been expecting and would have found quite justified, Castiel exhaled sharply between clenched teeth, closed his eyes, and then his forehead rested gingerly on Dean's stomach. It was barely a touch, in fact, much more than the warm skin he could feel the hot breath enveloping his navel, and it was somehow... tender and sweet. Especially when he heard Alpha inhale deeply as he calmed himself by sniffing Dean's scent. He got the feeling he knew when he let Sam or sometimes Dad sniff his scent; a feeling of a job well done and a sense of purpose.
He lifted his hands and buried them in Cas's hair. The moment he did, the Alpha threw his head back, leaning into his hands and looking up into his face.
"The third one will be dead tonight."
A simple statement, uttered with utter ruthlessness to the point of indifference over someone's death, that sent a pleasant chill down Dean's spine. His Omega seemed satisfied. This... this was his Alpha. All his and he was exactly what he could have wished for. Brutally ruthless when it came to protecting Dean and their pups... Damn. There's that stupid puppy thing again. But that didn't change the fact that he liked what Castiel had done for him and that he was protecting him.
He gripped the strands of his hair tighter and leaned down to press his lips firmly against his. A quick, hard kiss that made his corners ache.
"And Alastair?" he asked when he pulled away a little.
Castiel pressed his lips together.
"It's more complicated with him, but he'll end up the same way. I promise you that. You just have to be patient."
"Yeah, okay... okay, I will, Alpha," he purred, pressing a few more kisses to the chapped lips, "For now... for now, I'll settle for dealing with him on my own."
Cas bucked into his hands to avoid another kiss and tilted his head to the side in question.
"When he asked me to kill him, I couldn't get a shot off, but that doesn't mean he left without a memory. I hope he limps for a few weeks," he boasted with the proper amount of pride, which gave way uncomfortably quickly to concern when he saw Alpha's eyes widen.
"Did you attack Alastair too?"
"Yeah, sort of. Don't be mad, I'm just... uhm."
His words and tongue were swallowed by the eager Alpha's attack. And his nose filled with the scent of Alpha arousal that drove the blood to his groin and gripped that empty spot in his lower abdomen more reliably than the big hands that ran up his back. Up and back down and onto the hips that Alpha squeezed and leaned over Dean even more, pushing him against the table in a fleshless challenge.
He understood quickly and willingly jumped up onto the table. Someone rattled the dishes behind her, but he didn't hear anything fall or feel the beer spill under his ass, so he paid little attention to it. He spread his legs to let Case in between them. Alpha's warm weight rested against his half-hard cock. He came to meet him immediately. He shifted his hips and began to rub against him while he swallowed the taste of the cigarette and inhaled the arousing scent of the eager Alpha. It was so wonderfully intoxicating, and even though his now wet ass was clenching with the need for more and his cock was resting in his damp briefs, he would have done just that. Just rub against his Alpha and come in his pants.
Cas had other plans. He broke their kiss and looked up at Dean. The blue was tinged with red, like the sun setting over the lagoon, and his chapped lips were swollen and wet from the rough kissing. He was so fucking beautiful that Dean couldn't keep his hands off him. He cupped Alf's face in his hands and ran his thumbs over his lips. He lifted them a little with it, and the belly of one of his fingers met the smooth metal of a golden fang. Cas growled playfully and bared his teeth.
"Hand or mouth?" He asked through Dean's fingertips still caressing his lips.
That was a fucking hard decision. He loved the stunts Cas could do with his tongue, the way his throat constricted, and of course the sight of his lips spread around the base of his cock. But he didn't want to miss the opportunity to look into Cas's eyes and see his expression.
"Hand..."
The corner of Cas's mouth lifted in a small smile, his eyelids drooping contentedly, and his hands quickly unbuttoned Dean's jeans. Dean exhaled sharply as the fingers finally wrapped around his hard cock, his eyes closing with a blissful sigh as Alf's other hand landed on the back of his head, the pressure of it forcing his eyes to open again.
"Look at me," Castiel ordered.
He had no problem with that. Not a damn problem. He stared into Alf's eagerly glistening eyes with the greatest of pleasure, watching as the one thumb still caressing his lips disappeared into the warm, moist mouth. It made him moan softly because it was so... fucking. He could feel the firm grip of the hand on his cock, stroking it in a slow but purposeful rhythm, the tongue sliding over his finger, and the teeth as well. Fangs. Hidden in his gums, but sharp and dangerous. And the feeling of power, of being able to touch them, was... fuck, it was just something. Every Alpha could rip throats out with their teeth, but this Alpha, his Alpha, would actually do it, and it was Dean who was allowed to touch this deadly weapon. And geez, it was almost hotter than a hand on his dick.
His finger slipped out of Castiel's mouth with a loud slap. The alpha was left with his mouth gaping, tongue resting against his bottom lip, and looking like he'd just spent a good half hour sucking Dean's cock rather than his finger.
He leaned forward and buried his tongue deep into Castiel's mouth in a rough kiss. He explored every nook and cranny, especially his fangs, moving his hips against his caressing hand as he did so. He urged him on. The alpha took the urge readily, and the rhythm of his palm quickened to meet Dean's growing need. The air was filled with a mixture of their aroused scents and even that drove him closer to climax. He was vaguely aware that maybe he should warn Case, but even if he could focus his thoughts, he couldn't make a sound. The alpha held the back of his head, not allowing him to break the kiss. All he could muster was a low growl as his entire lower abdomen clenched in a delicious spasm.
The rough kiss softened and the firm, quick strokes of Castiel's hand lost their rhythm. Dean parted their lips and buried his nose in the stubble on Alf's neck, inhaling his scent as he enjoyed the pleasurable feeling of an empty mind. He didn't want to move too much, he would have preferred to stay like this a little longer, but for once he was beginning to realize where they were and that they didn't have time for any long cuddles. And also the pressure of the hard cock rubbing against his knee as Alpha moved his hips slightly, seeking some release with a deep growl.
With a sigh, he leaned back, looking first into Cas' eyes, which were fixed on him with their usual intensity, and then sliding his gaze between their joined bodies. He was glad he'd taken his shirt off, because he'd made a mess of his own stomach and, of course, Cas's hand.
"Wait..." he leaned back a little more as he searched for napkins and luckily found paper ones, not some fancy cloth ones. He grabbed a handful of them, shoving some into Cas' hand and keeping some.
He wiped the barest of it off, shoving his cock into his pants and buttoning at least a button before looking back up at Castiel, who had just finished his own cleaning and tossed the dirty papers on the floor with the ones Dean had left behind.
"Sit down," he said, pushing his shoulders at the same time.
The alpha gave in without protest and as his ass was back in the chair, he spread his legs comfortably and looked up at Dean from under lowered eyelids, a smile twitching the corners. Like the bastard knew exactly what he was committing to. He grinned back, but by then he was on his way to the floor. The floor was carpeted, but definitely harder than the pillow he'd knelt on the first time he'd done this. At least the majestic bulge in Castiel's pants and the heavy, musky scent rising from his crotch were familiar.
He quickly undid his belt and buttoned his zipper and pulled his pants and white boxers down a little lower with Castiel's full cooperation. This time, ready for what awaited him, he managed to grip the Alpha's hard cock before it could surprise him by springing into his face. He ran his hands slowly up and down the length of it a few times, not stopping himself from exploring Alpha's cock rather than enjoying being able to touch it. There was finally enough light here for him to see every detail. The purplish vein on the underside, the veining under the skin, the half-bloated knot at the base of his cock where the brown-tinged skin stretched, and the sparse, slightly graying hairs rising up to his navel.
A hand dug into the hair at the nape of his neck.
He looked up quickly and saw Castiel watching him intently.
"Do you like what you see, Omega?" He asked, his voice deeper and gravellier with excitement than usual.
He licked his lips.
"Yeah. Hell yeah, Alpha," he breathed, not really having to think too hard about what he was going to answer. He never thought he'd really start to like dicks, or who knows, maybe he never looked at one twice for fear of liking them. But there it was. Everything about Castiel was so damn nice, including his hard cock, which rested hesitantly in Dean's hand and the sight of which literally made his saliva pool.
He swallowed.
"You can fuck my mouth again, just... no knot, okay?"
"No knot," he agreed, pressing against the back of Dean's head.
He submitted without resistance, just opened his mouth, wrapped his hand around Cas's knot, and braced himself for the massive girth that spread his jaws apart. The torn corner stung sharply, and the wound inside his mouth was sensitive. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes. He blinked them away. He was no delicate pussy to be stopped by such a small thing. Not from the sight of Castiel's face and the incredible fascination in his eyes as he watched his cock slide back and forth between Dean's lips. He concentrated on that. On the sight, on the growing scent of musk, on the growl that rumbled in Alpha's chest. And he almost forgot about the pain in the corners and the bitterness and saliva that filled his mouth. He adjusted to the rhythm, breathing when he had the chance and even managing to swallow regularly so he could enjoy the sight and indeed the weight of his cock in his mouth. The thrilling fact that Alpha was inside him made his ass clench with need and that empty, wanting place inside where he knew full well Alpha's cock rightly belonged. Buried deep in his ass in places even Castiel's long, exploring fingers couldn't reach.
He closed his eyes and imagined it. Himself on this new bed, legs spread wide, Case between them, ramming his cock into his ass again and again. He imagined his face, those beautiful blue eyes, and the feeling of being spread as wide as his mouth was now. Fuck... he kept thinking that he just couldn't do it, but the thought was so exciting.
"Dean..."
He looked up.
The eagerness he saw in Castiel's face told him clearly that he was close and that his name was the warning he'd asked for last time. He hummed in agreement, allowing the Alpha to come in his mouth. Yeah, it hadn't gone gloriously last time, but this time Dean was ready for it, and more importantly, he wasn't wearing a shirt. He gripped the knot tightly, spurring Alpha on to climax. When the bitter cum flooded his mouth, he did the best he could. He swallowed and sucked as hard as he could, with a loud and encouraging purr from Alpha, who held the back of his head tightly, his cock buried deep in Dean's mouth.
When the flood subsided and the grip in his hair loosened, he let go of his still-hard cock with a loud grunt and fell back on his heels. He hadn't managed to swallow it all, so his chin was dirty again, not only from the Alpha but from his own saliva, but he didn't care. He needed to get a good breath.
Castile propped his chin up with his index finger, lifting his face and wiping his cum from his chin with the thumb of his other hand before brushing it over his lips with a loud, possessive growl that got to Dean's bones.
"I can't wait to see your lips around my knot one day."
Another pleasurable shiver ran down his spine. He licked his lip involuntarily, swallowed the new bitterness that had come to his tongue, and looked down at Alpha's swollen knot. He really didn't think he'd be able to put that in his mouth and not start gagging like an idiot, but then again, that was what he'd thought of Cas's cock in general before, and this time he was doing pretty well. Maybe if he tried it... once... the idea was exciting and discouraging at the same time.
"Yeah, man, that's not gonna happen," he grinned, ducking his chin out of Alpha's grasp, swinging to his feet and, without looking at Case, turning to take his unfinished glass of beer.
The bitter drink washed away the otherwise bitter taste in his mouth, spiced with the heavy, sweet taste of cherries that clung to his palate most of all.
Arms wrapped around his waist from behind and to his surprise he was pulled into Castiel's lap, barely keeping the glass from spilling his beer. And pain shot from his bruised stomach.
"Hey! Warn the man a little!" He objected, seemingly offended, but in reality he leaned back against the warm chest behind him and put a hand on the arm that was hugging him. Alpha's tight embrace provided a ridiculous sense of security, made even more absurd when he realised that his ass was on his half-hard cock and his own stomach was now a little more sensitive than it had been a moment ago, due to the passionate treatment.
Cas hummed in amusement and pressed his lips to the crook of Dean's shoulder. Instinctively, he tilted his head to the side under the touch, giving the Alpha more access to his throat and the glands stretching down his shoulder. He slid his moist lips more, almost to the bend where the shoulder met the neck, exactly where he usually gave a bite. He stiffened a little, torn between the satisfied growl of his Omega wanting more and the rational voice that warned him of danger after all. He had the Alpha literally glued to his mating gland and, no matter how fucking pleasurable it was, all it took was literally one clench of his jaws... Castiel didn't actually open his jaws, though. He could feel the flat side of his teeth brushing against his skin, and the absorbent pull that bristled the hairs on the back of his neck.
Castiel didn't want to bite him, but he wanted to mark him as his own. To show anyone who looked at Dean's throat that he was an Omega that some Alpha had already laid claim to. His inner Omega, every bit of instinct in his body, was chanting Yes, Yes, Yes, and Dean, despite his best beliefs, dug his fingers into Cas's hair and pulled his head closer in a permission he probably didn't even need to give.
It pinched hard as Cas sucked in with full force, leaving his mark in the form of a proper hickey that Dean was now absolutely sure he hadn't had one yet. He felt his teeth again, which made him shiver again, and then the Alpha pulled away from his shoulder and showered kisses first on the mark he'd left and then moved to the back of Dean's head, which he buried his nose in for a moment and inhaled deeply.
"Satisfied?" He allowed himself to break the comfortable silence after a moment, his voice a little shaky and husky, not even sure why, and ruffled his hair.
"Very," Cas agreed contentedly.
He didn't say it out loud, but even he felt content, in a strange, slightly intoxicating sort of way. It certainly wasn't just the mixture of their scents or the sex, no, this was more... more like a feeling of belonging to someone and somewhere that he only had occasionally when their Alpha was in a good mood and the three of them were taking time for themselves. Fishing just for fun, not as part of their wilderness survival training. Visiting an amusement park or 'trip' to see something crazy, like the biggest ball of yarn or the smallest shoe, not because Dad had caught a new clue.
"How are you, Dean?" Came in his ear.
He turned on Alphain surprise, snapped out of his thoughts and met his probing eyes. The question had no relevance to what they'd been doing a moment ago or the fact that Cas had marked him, which was why it was completely ridiculous.
"Are you asking me how I'm doing?" He returned with a laugh; the alpha said nothing, just stared, so Dean's laughter sort of faded into nothingness. "Good... I'm fine."
The Alpha tilted his head to the side and sent an eloquent look.
"It's okay..." Pulling his hand out of Cas's hair and setting his glass down on the table, pulling away from him a little. "Aside from the fact that we've got some crazy murdering psychopath after us and Sammy's being an asshole..."
"Your brother causing more trouble?" Cas asked with a hint of edge in his voice.
"No, it's not trouble," he retorted immediately, lest the Alpha imagine something like the last incident. "No, he's just..." he hesitated to say it because it was so personal, but damn... he'd sucked Cas's cock a moment ago and now he was sitting on his lap. "He said some stuff about Mom, that's all."
"About your dead mother?"
"Yeah, about that one. That's all we have," he replied, a little tartly.
"They say Honor thy father and thy mother," he quoted. "Your brother should learn to respect his elders, including you. And also a healthy amount of humility, because if he lets his Alpha ego and his instincts run rampant, he'll get into trouble fast."
"Wow," he couldn't help his surprise at so many harsh words about Sam. "You know you're the first person to talk about Sammy like that? Normally everyone says how nice, quiet, smart, and well-mannered he is. The teachers literally love him."
"I don't know what they see, but what I see is a puppy full of rebelliousness and anger and no respect for authority, who doesn't even have the manners to say hello politely," he said with a painful hardness that tugged at Dean's heartstrings.
Sammy was his pride and joy. It was Dean who read and wrote his first words with him. He was the one who stole books for him from libraries before Sam could do it himself. He'd saved up for their first 'shared' laptop and gone to the dubious delivery aisle to buy it. He was the one who neglected school for him so he could work, or tore his mouth off to buy the best stuff to make a school project or pay for clubs and extracurriculars. It was his plan for him to go to work right out of school and save up at least a little to take to college and then never stop sending him at least a little of what he earned wherever the wind and his dad took him.
"Excuse me!" He asked sharply, pulling away as far as the grip around his waist would allow. "You do realize it was me who raised him!"
"Yes, it was obvious to me," Cas pointed out, the corners of his lips tightening in a disapproving expression. "He seems to have lacked Alpha authority in his life. That your father couldn't fill that role doesn't surprise me."
"One more time: excuse me?" He growled, really growled, through bared teeth, and his angry scent began to waft through the air.
First he'd taken a swipe at Sam, and now he was throwing shit at their Alpha. Whatever blissful happiness he'd been experiencing in Cas's arms barely a minute ago was gone for good, and all he wanted was for him to put his fucking hands off Alpha. He dug his fingers into his wrist hard enough to hurt - and if it left any welts, even better - if he didn't want to let go and literally wrench himself out of his grip.
"I'm sure you did everything you could, Dean. You're extremely devoted to him, and that's probably the problem," he continued to speak so calmly, as if perhaps he hadn't even noticed that he'd upset Dean, or as if he was convinced that he was entitled to this lecture. Even his heavy, tart scent remained almost untouched, perhaps only the musky arousal had been replaced with more bitter almonds. "You protect and support him too much and then he thinks he can do anything because others will clean up his mess for him. He would benefit from having to fend for himself."
"Dude... you're really... unreal!" He waved his hands in a clueless gesture. "You've known me for a measly four weeks, and you've seen Sam for... what? Ten minutes total? And you immediately think you know everything about us. That you can tell me how to raise my puppy? How many have you raised?" He asked harshly; Castiel took a breath to answer. "Don't answer that. I don't care, and I don't want to talk to you about Sam when your dick is out of your pants..." he let his words trail off, even as anger boiled inside him. Anger, and also a twinge of fear of Cas' anger that stopped him. Yeah, they were alone, but maybe someone could hear him. He didn't want to earn another punishment, not so much because he wouldn't stop him, but because he realized how dangerous it was to question Castiel's authority.
"You know what? I think I'd better go."
He had to turn his back on Castiel to pick up his shirt from the ground. He heard the rustle of fabric and the creak of a zipper behind him as he did so, and then the creak of a chair as Alpha stood up. Then, as he straightened, an arm immediately wrapped around his waist. He tensed as he used to do when Cas touched him, ready to fight and try to escape. His gaze even wandered to the door, and calculations ran through his mind as to whether he could get to it and unlock it if he stomped on Castiel's foot with all his strength, and if he was nimble enough to avoid Boris, who would surely try to grab him right away.
"Understand that your brother is now my responsibility too," came in his ear. "And there are rules that not only you must respect, but he must respect as well. You need to show me respect and gratitude for what I do for you, especially after the way he's been acting. And how you've behaved. Or do I have to remind you of Lisa?" He asked, this time his voice dangerously low and with the edge of genuine reproach.
No, he didn't have to remind him of Lisa. How could he have forgotten all this in just a few days? No, he hadn't forgotten the sense of injustice attached to it, and it wasn't just that it was all unfair to Lisa. It was also unfair to himself because Castiel had accused him of cheating and yet he had done no such thing. And now? He was accusing Sam of being spoiled and them both of being ungrateful and shit like that.
"No, you don't. You think I'm a cheating ingrate," he spat out.
"No, you're not an ingrate," the Alpha disagreed in a slightly softer voice. "You can be grateful and show your gratitude."
The words sent a cold stone down into his stomach. Being grateful and showing it... yeah, he could do that. That was what it was all about. How could he forget that. Stupid, stupid Omega, so caught up in his fucking romantic fantasies of a strong, dangerous Alpha and a bunch of puppies that he'd completely ignored reality. How could you be so naive, Winchester?
"All right," he said so calmly that it surprised even him. His anger seemed to sink into the dark pit that was now his stomach. "I'll talk to Sam. Can I go now? I want to get to the apartment as soon as possible. I have schoolwork and stuff..."
He could feel the body tense behind his back, he just wasn't sure if the Alpha was just pausing at the quick change in his stance or considering not letting go. Or maybe he'd just say something else. Certainly his scent hadn't changed even now. Eventually, though, the arm slipped from his stomach. He took advantage of it immediately, stepping back and grabbing his shirt from the back of the chair. When he turned to Cas later, he was already back in his chair, just fishing in his pack for a cigarette. As if everything was completely fine.
"I'll text you when I get there..." he said, because that's what he usually said or wrote when they said goodbye.
"I'll be waiting," was apparently all he could wait to hear from Alpha, because he was already leaning back comfortably in his chair, a lit cigarette in one hand, his other hand resting his wrist on the edge of the table, his fingers wrapped around a full glass of beer.
Dean clenched his jaw in a rush of new anger, because how could he be so fucking calm and above it all? Just a goddamn Alpha Knot who thought he was right no matter what, everyone would listen and follow him and he'd get everything he wanted. And this one was talking about Sam. This one!
He stepped out angrily, only to be grabbed by the wrist by a strong hand and pulled down just as he passed Alpha. Cas wanted to pull him in for a kiss. He only had time to move out of the way at the last moment, so his lips were pressed more against Dean's injured corner and cheek than directly against his lips. Even that seemed to be enough for Castiel.
"I'll see you soon, moy Din," he murmured in his ear, letting go.
Dean didn't answer him again. He reached for his jacket, opened the latch on the door, and stepped out into the hallway. He could feel the gaze on him the whole time, but he didn't even look back at the very end, though something in him wanted to. So he was grateful when the door closed behind him, separating him from Alpha and the lingering scent of happiness and sex that still lingered in the small back room.
Moments later, he was in the backseat behind a quietly chatting Ginger and Mr. Eyebrows, heading back to their apartment where only the closed door of Sam's room awaited him, with loud music coming from behind it. He let it go and retreated to his room to try and write the few assignments they had and forget Castiel's word. And all the meanings they had and that he had pondered on his way out of the Doll.
Notes:
Mne nravitsya smotret' na tebya. Vy ochen' krasivy - I like looking at you. You are so handsome.
....
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Chapter Text
He clutched the handle of his steaming coffee mug and stared absently ahead at the shiny surface of the kettle. In front of him was a plate of golden-fried bacon slices he'd fried after making Sam his bacon-free eggs. He could vaguely hear the hum of water from the bathroom, and he was also aware that he didn't have to rush through breakfast so much because his brother would have it cold, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to mind. His thoughts were elsewhere.
Ungrateful and rude...
Respect the rules and me...
He should take care of himself...
You know how to show gratitude...
He closed his eyes, gripped the cup's handle tighter, and swallowed dryly with a tightened throat.
Yeah, he could show gratitude. On his knees at Alpha's feet, his cock in his mouth, Alpha had reminded him yesterday that that was what it was all about. This was real life, not a romantic movie for teenage Omega girls. They weren't a couple in love. It wasn't real, no matter how much somewhere inside wanted it to be. Nothing that started with a fucking kidnapping could be real, no matter how Alpha had acted since. Because the truth was that Alpha had protected them while owning everything they had except a few dozen dollars, their clothes, and their guns. He could take it back at any time. Or decide it wasn't for Sam anymore and kick him out on the street to fend for himself, just as he'd suggested yesterday. Dean would go with him, that much was clear, and it was equally clear that then not only Alastair but the entire Brotherhood would be right down their throats, the money would probably run out about ten miles outside of New York, and generally everything would just go to hell. Much easier for everyone - and safer and more comfortable for Sammy - was to comply with the set order. Make Alpha happy and give him everything he wanted without even thinking about Sam's behavior or getting fired. And what was it that all the Alphas wanted that made them happy? Knotted Omega, especially if they wanted that Omega and if they considered him their True Mate.
He smiled bitterly at the black surface.
What was he complaining about anyway? Alpha Castiel was fucking beautiful, smelled good, kind of like safety and home, Dean actually wanted him, and in reality Alpha was good and generous in bed and shit like that. He could knotted him up that first night or any subsequent encounter. He didn't have to respect his 'no' or be fooled by the various diatribes Dean pulled on him and nothing and no one would stop him. He hadn't done it because he was actually ridiculously vanilla, though not gentle, and all he wanted was to have the upper hand in bed (oh, how surprising in an Alpha) and to see his knot in Dean's mouth (he was totally shocked by that too. Who would have thought that an Alpha could desire something like that?).
The creak of the chair snapped him out of his thoughts.
He looked back at Sam, who had just taken his seat, picked up his fork and bent over his plate until strands of damp hair covered half his face. He really needed a haircut already.
"You need a haircut, buddy," he said it out loud, raking through his brother's hair.
Sam flinched away from his touch with a small growl, but then paused, swallowed the growl, and looked Dean in the eye. They sized each other up for a moment before the little Alpha relaxed his shoulders and lowered his gaze to his balls.
"I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. You know about Mom. I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry I talked about her that way. I just..." He raised his eyes back to Dean's and there was something like determination in them. "I know why Dad does what he does, but sometimes what he does upsets me so much. I just want to... not have to change schools every three or four weeks, not have to study and write papers in the back of an Impala, have real friends, have a... pack… have..."
"Home?" He finished.
"Yeah, something like that." Sam agreed with a frown.
There it was.
Ignoring Alastair - and that wasn't Castiel's fault by any means - here and now, thanks to his Alpha, Sammy had exactly what he was talking about. A place in a quiet and safe neighborhood where they could stay forever, so Sam could go to the same school, finally make some friends, keep the little pack he'd made, or who knows, make a better one. They wouldn't have to travel anymore, wouldn't have to wonder at dusk if they'd make it to a motel or stay asleep on the side of the road. They'd never be short of anything again. And Sam could go to any university and become anything he wanted. All that mattered was that Dean kept Alpha happy.
"I know you didn't mean it, pup," he grinned, digging his fingers into his hair. This time the little Alpha didn't resist, in fact he let him brush his hair and bowed his head a little under his touch. It was a pretty rare moment that he hadn't experienced in a while, and his Omega was really enjoying this puppyish affection of Sammy's, so it didn't make him happy at all that he had to take his hand away and open up another topic that would piss Sam off.
"The guys are taking you to school alone today."
Sam shot him a disapproving frown.
"Why don't you go?"
"I want to spend some time alone with Cas."
"Why?"
"Dude, I don't have to explain that to you, do I?" He rolled his eyes a little too hard to hide the fact that he was making a knot in his gut.
Sam's eyes widened as he understood, he smelled a clear embarrassment and averted his gaze as he scooped up the first bite of egg. He popped it into his mouth and chewed quickly. That had turned out better than Dean had hoped, except he was ready to fight his brother first and start thinking about today once Sam was gone. Only now his plans had sort of fallen apart and his thoughts turned to the near future, his gaze back to his bedroom door. Because of his dreams, his room and bed were soaked with the smell of anxious Omega, and that wasn't something that fostered the desire to fuck. He'd already opened the windows to air it out, but that might not be enough. Maybe something to cover it up. If he took a moment for himself after Sam left... ten, fifteen minutes with his cock in his hand and porn on his phone would be enough to fill the bed with the scent of Omega arousal and slick.
"You don't smell happy."
"What?" He turned distractedly to Sam.
"You don't smell happy," his brother repeated, his gaze fixed squarely on him. "You should be happy to meet him, but you reek of anxiety."
"That's because I'm here to argue with my obnoxious little brother," he snapped, but in reality he was aware that his scent was giving him away, so he mouthed it some more. "Now shut your mouth and eat. You'll be leaving soon."
Sam didn't look happy, his lips were pursed and he was putting on his best sullen face, but he didn't argue and went back to chewing his eggs.
The rest of breakfast was in silence, the only thing they said to each other was Dean making sure Sammy had everything and a quick goodbye as he walked little Alpha to the door. There he placed him in the hands of Baldy, who was obviously on duty in the opposite apartment, while explaining that he was staying home today. Alpha's man made no comment, simply taking Sam downstairs to their originally shared ride, which was already waiting there.
Dean went back into the flat, put their plates in the sink and fished his mobile out of his pocket. He checked the time first, and since it was still a long way to eight, he confidently opened a conversation with Castiel. Aside from yesterday's reassurance that he was home and the statement that he needed time to study, there was only the evening's goodbyes - Castiel's long one, wishing him a good night's sleep and good dreams, and Dean's brief one, in which he'd replied only 'good night'. He had to be much nicer this time, to make sure Alpha was sure everything was okay and that he really wished he'd come.
Dean: hello alpha
Dean: are you coming? 😊
Dean: I miss you... 😒😘
He added a kiss as well, though it seemed a bit much in Castiel's case, and sent it off. He didn't have to wait long for a reply.
Castiel: Hey, Dean. I can come by this afternoon.
Dean: not in the afternoon ☹️
Dean: I miss you now ☹️
Dean: come right now
Dean: please
He felt embarrassed for himself, but he was pretty sure it would work. The sad pleading Omega always worked on everyone.
Castiel: I'm busy now. Something wrong?
Dean: No
Dean: I just want to see you alpha
Dean: I stayed home.
Dean: and I'm alone😜
He sent the last message and waited and waited and waited until he started to get nervous. And it occurred to him that maybe the Alpha hadn't gotten the hint. With a frustrated sigh, he put his fingers to the keyboard, determined to type clearly and succinctly that he was horny and wanted Alpha to come and fuck him when the new message finally appeared.
Castiel: I have to finish what I'm doing now. It's important. I'll come to you later. Can you hold out until then without me, my sweet Omega?
Oh, well, he seems to have understood.
Dean: maybe 😒
Dean: but hurry
Castiel: I'll hurry. I can't wait to see you. Be ready for me.
Dean: 😜😘😘
He sent one last message, closing the conversation and shoving his phone back in his pocket. Being ready... yeah, that was definitely in his plan, but easier said than done. Just yesterday, when he'd imagined the Alpha fucking him, he'd found it arousing. The thought of him beneath him, legs spread wide... Now that it was about to happen, a heavy weight was in his stomach, and nervousness along with fucking fear gnawed at his insides.
No! He decided not to act like some scared chicken. This wasn't going to be the worst thing in his life, and maybe it would be good after all. He couldn't imagine how having a baseball and a ball stuffed up his ass could be good, but it was supposed to be good, and Omega man did it all the time. It was literally what nature had designed them for. And it wasn't like his Alpha wanted to hurt him or anything. It wasn't going to be like... back then.
Oh, shit. That was definitely not a smart thing to think about right now. He preferred to focus on what he had to do. Close the bedroom windows, check to see if there's a clean sheet - that way he'd get his anxious smell from the bed for sure - and then get ready. A handjob and sticking a few fingers up his ass in the process certainly couldn't hurt.
°°0°°
"Fucking cold!" Pyotr complained feelingly. "When I came to America, I hoped to escape this horrible, cold weather."
Castiel looked out the half rolled down window of the Mercedes at Beta, who was all hunched over leaning against the door, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other resting on the roof of the car, clutching, Castiel knew, a cup of hot tea.
He had to admit that autumn had started out very pleasant and warm, but it had quickly turned into the coldest he'd experienced in New York. But he couldn't judge if this weather was normal for the city or not. It was only his third year here. But today's weather was definitely not even close to the chill of a Moscow autumn. With the winds turning off Siberia, the first snow and frost could come as early as September.
"Aren't you from Novosibirsk?"
"I do. That's why I know what fucking cold is, I hate it and I ran away from there as soon as I could," Beta grumbled discontentedly and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, probably to keep warm.
Having one was a good idea. His Alpha paced back and forth restlessly, growling angrily, knowing his dream prey was close but unable to have it. Not yet. For now, Castiel had to be patient and wait for the moment when he could sink his teeth into Alastair's throat. And not just be patient, he had to restrain his instincts and face him not just calmly, but even amicably, no matter how much he wanted to kill him. And that it was a desire that was not familiar to him. Killing had long since become a routine for him, one that he could purposefully enhance with some of the fun, the thrill of the hunt and the excitement of the pleas and promises, but mostly he didn't feel the need to kill. Not for so long and not so intensely. This was Dean's fault. He was the one he wanted to kill for. And God help him, he wanted it badly.
He grabbed a pack from the seat, pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips, and fished in his pocket for a lighter. Yes, the cigarette was definitely a good idea. He lit up and took a big gulp of the soothing nicotine. The warm smoke filled his lungs and as he blew it out slowly, much of the tension that had been running like a shiver through his limbs went out of his body along with the smoke.
"Shit!" Pyotr muttered through his cigarette as he furiously flicked the lighter.
Castiel lit his lighter and pushed it out the window.
"Thanks, boss..." sighed Beta in relief, leaning back against the fire.
"American lights? Dropped your balls and turned you into a gentle pussy?" He comment when he saw the thin cigarette disappearing into Pyotr's chubby fingers.
Beta snorted.
"The doctor said my blood pressure was too high and I should cut down on smoking. So I'm trying it." He rolled the cigarette in his fingers.
He raised his eyebrows skeptically and cocked his head to the side.
"Does it work?"
"Nah... not a bit. I'll smoke two packs instead of half a pack," he grumbled discontentedly, frowning at the cigarette in his fingers as if it were his great enemy, but then lifted it to his lips anyway.
"Don't even talk to me about that, my friend..." he let it trail off with a small sigh at the end, picking up his pack and slamming it down to present Beta with the hollow sound of two cigarettes hitting paper. "This one was still full at midnight." He took a drag and let the smoke flow between the words: "And I know I'll open a new one before I get home."
The phone, the American one in his right pocket, vibrated with an incoming message. He flipped the cigarette from his right hand to his left and pulled phone out. Dean's name was on the screen.
Dean: hello alpha
Dean: are you coming? 😊
Dean: I miss you... 😒😘
After yesterday's intense discussion about his brother, Dean seemed offended. It annoyed him, but he let it go because he had other things to worry about. First and foremost this morning's meeting with Alastair, and then he was sure Omega would eventually come to his senses when he realized Castiel's words were true and his demands reasonable. But he hadn't expected the messages he'd seen on the screen, and it confused him. Trying to keep up with Dean and his sometimes absurd changes of mood and opinion was like riding a teetering roller coaster.
"Young Dean Yankovich?" asked Pyotr, and when Castiel looked up at him, he had a small, knowing smile on his face.
He tilted his head questioningly in response. It wasn't the first time the burly Beta had recognized that Dean was texting him, though it was impossible for him to see the screen.
"You always get that look on your face when he writes, you know? And your scent changes."
This time he raised even his eyebrows in mild surprise. Just as some Betas had an intense sense of smell, some had a good sense of smell, sometimes almost as good as the Alphas and Omegas. He had no idea that Pyotr was one of them. Rather, it didn't seem like it, because if he was, he wouldn't have been able to tolerate the perfumes he was putting on himself in quantities surely unpleasant even to the Betas. So it was actually quite remarkable, if anything he actually smelled.
"I don't have a nose like you, but I have a nose," he tapped his finger against his nose. "And I already know your scent, boss. It's quite specific and... strong, no offense. I didn't learn to recognize that you smell like cyanide when you're angry and like honey and fruit when you're happy. When it comes to Dean JYankovich... you almost smell like pie."
He could hardly define his own smell, most people couldn't, but yes, he had been told several times that he smelled of cherries and almonds and sometimes honey. So Pyotr, it seems, despite all the perfume he sprayed on himself, had some sense of smell.
"Yes, it's Dean," he agreed, turning his gaze to the screen to answer Omega's somewhat confusing message.
Castiel: Hey, Dean. I can come by this afternoon.
Dean: not in the afternoon ☹️
Dean: I miss you now ☹️
Dean: come right now
Dean: please
Frowning, he read the messages that appeared on his screen in turn. They sounded so needy, almost desperate, that his Alpha turned his attention to them and growled softly. Was there a problem here? No, there couldn't be. No one could get through to Dean again. They had four men watching him, temporarily, but still... And Kot was completely reliable. Anyone who even approached Dean's door who wasn't known or announced in advance would end up with a punch in the neck or a plastic bag over their head.
Castiel: I'm busy now. Something wrong?
Dean: No
Dean: I just want to see you alpha
Dean: I stayed home
Dean: and I'm alone😜
Castiel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Did Dean's words really mean what had first flashed through his mind? Was Omega inviting him to his bed? It didn't happen anymore that Dean stiffened under his touch. And his sweet scent no longer turned into bitter fear. He was much more confident and eager, and in fact, despite his obvious inexperience with men, it was clear he wasn't a complete novice at sex. He wasn't virginal in every way. But to receive such an open invitation from him was unexpected. Unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. After meeting Alastair, he would need the fragrant warmth of his Mate to snuggle up to, and who knew, maybe he would finally get a taste of Dean's sweet hole and then fuck and knotted it like he'd been longing to do.
A small, predatory smile curled the corners of Castile's mouth.
Castiel: I have to finish what I'm doing now. It's important. I'll come to you later. Can you hold out until then without me, my sweet Omega?
Dean: maybe 😒
Dean: but hurry
Castiel: I'll hurry. I can't wait to see you. Be ready for me.
Dean: 😜😘😘
He grinned slightly at the emoticon instead of replying, but the smile never left his face. On the contrary, it widened even more. He took a drag of the pleasantly warm smoke and leaned back contentedly in his seat. And a low, involuntary growl left his throat at the thought of his Dean sprawled out on the bed... all creamy skin filled with constellations of pale brown freckles... the looming muscles of his stomach and the small, hard mounds of his chest... and his firm cheeks spread apart, and between them the pink opening he always so eagerly took from Castiel's fingers.
Oh, shit. He had to stop thinking about it. The car was starting to fill with musky alpha arousal, and his cock twitched at the first hints of interest.
He took another drag, smothered the butt against the edge of the ashtray and let it fall inside, and while he blew out the smoke, he looked out the open part of the window.
"Good news?" Pyotr surprised him with a question.
"Dean wants me to come by and see him."
"That's nice," Beta replied politely, but his smile was genuine.
"Yes, but a little... unexpected," he admitted aloud. "We had a discussion yesterday. We were talking about his brother. By the end of it, it looked like he was more likely to bite my hand off than talk to me again anytime soon. And today he stayed home just so he could see me. Sometimes it's hard to figure him out...' He furrowed his brows in thought. "He's full of energy and cheerfulness at one point." His corners lifted in a smile at the memory of Dean's grin, but they immediately fell again, and a crease formed between his brows. "And then suddenly... like this!" He snapped his fingers, "His mood changes. He'll start growling like a wild dog or get offended and stop talking to me. Sometimes I think I need a manual on Omegas for him."
"I'm probably the last person to give you advice, boss. Omegas... especially the male ones aren't really my thing, but if I may speak frankly..."
"You always do, Pyotr."
"Dean Yankovich is smart, brave, energetic, and proud too," he listed the qualities Castiel saw in Dean and definitely admired and loved, no matter how much trouble they brought. "And very... young," he added with some emphasis. Apparently that was supposed to make everything clear.
"You've said that before. Don't you think I know that? Or that I don't realize I could easily be his father?" He said sharply, and Pyotr lowered his head and his gaze. "But I'm not the first to find someone decades younger. Men in our position," yes, he was definitely referring to Pyotr as well, for despite how little the burly Beta had to live on, even his bank account was sufficiently bloated to allow him to walk into any bar and take at least one girl of any subgender, who could easily be his granddaughter, with him on each arm, "do that often, don't they?"
"That's not what I meant," Beta objected in a conciliatory tone, tossing his cigarette to the floor and choking it out with his boot. "What I meant to say was that he's just like our Sashka. It comes with age, and Lord knows we weren't any different when we were sixteen. Probably worse. It just takes time..." he concluded, then shrugged. "And besides, it's Omega. Omegas are like that; sensitive and full of emotion."
He had to admit that there was some truth to what Pyotr was saying. Dean might be his True Mate, he might be strong, independent and fearless, but he couldn't deny his age and his secondary gender. He'd been aware of that from the moment he'd learned who Dean was and how old he was. But sometimes it was frustrating.
He wondered if he'd been like that then too, more than twenty years ago, and if Pavel felt the same way. Unconsciously, he remembered an evening together. Pavel had taken him to a nice place with first class service and great food where a jacket was a must. Castiel didn't like such places then, he didn't feel comfortable in them, not at that time, but Pavel managed to improve his mood as he always did. He began to tell stories from his student days and laughed at them himself. Loud and shrill, as only he could do, little flickers of amusement dancing in his eyes, making it seem as if the light was shining through amber and his rum scent, filled with happiness, wafted all around, surprisingly intense for a Beta. It was hard not to laugh with him, and even harder to resist, which was why Castiel didn't even think then as he took his hand and tried to kiss it.
It shouldn't have been a surprise to him that Pavel pulled away before his lips could touch his skin, nor that all his joy and laughter was gone in an instant. Still, it pissed him off. He felt pushed away, humiliated and ridiculed. He thought Pavel was a coward. He remembered throwing it all in his face and storming out of the restaurant to find the first night club friendly to his sort of people, where he turned one drink after another down his throat and ended up locked in the toilet with some nameless Alpha cock down his throat. And he was proud of himself then, because he considered himself a child of the new, free era that seemed to be emerging in their homeland. He didn't want to hide or even be ashamed of the fact that they were the wrong gender to be a couple.
Just a few months later, everything was different. The tattoo on Castiel's back that had taught him the value of discretion and secrecy was burning, and Pavel was dead.
"That fucker's going to come in at the last minute," Pyotr interrupted his thoughts with his disgruntled growl.
Castiel glanced at his watch. Alastair still had five minutes until the appointed meeting time. The fact that they had been waiting for him for half an hour was due to the fact that he wanted to be here before he was and spread his men around the warehouse. Take control of the territory. That was more important than anything else. Besides, it looked like it was the Bratva who wanted this meeting and they were the ones waiting for some sort of Alastair's favor. It made them look much weaker than they really were.
"He has five more minutes to come and collect the mortal remains of his people. If he doesn't arrive, we'll drop them on his doorstep."
"Someone's coming!" One of the men called from the open door.
There was a commotion.
Pyotr poured out the rest of his tea, squeezed the cup and tossed it aside. He straightened, adjusted himself, and stepped forward, between the other men who were choking on cigarettes, tossing their own cups aside, and ending their conversations to position themselves between Castiel's car and the new arrivals. Golem started the car, letting the engine idle so he wouldn't waste time if necessary. Castiel rolled the window down a small crack so he could hear what was going on outside, but he wasn't a good target through the tinted glass.
The typical growl of the engine foretold that whoever was approaching was on a motorcycle, and they were. A dark blue Suzuki slipped in through the ajar gate, instantly evoking the blurry picture Oleg had shown him. It could have been a coincidence, there were hundreds of motorbikes like that around town, maybe more, but this one was driven by a woman. And a woman of the exact shape the neighbours had described. And when she dismounted a moment later and took off her helmet, she revealed a round face with a fair almost to creamy complexion, big, dark brown eyes, full lips painted red, and wavy hair that was brown, but that didn't matter much. The hair was easy to recolor. Overall, the woman resembled the girls in fifties American posters. She wouldn't be completely lost on the street, but it would take some work to make her an exclusive.
"Hey, guys!" She greeted blithely, her lips parting into a smile that was surprisingly predatory for Beta, and that Beta almost certainly was. "Which one of you is the biggest dog here?" She asked, seemingly unaffected by the fact that she was facing a total of five men with guns who were each at least half a head taller than her.
"And who's asking?" Pyotr shot back at her.
"I have a message for him from my boss. Alastair."
The burly Beta looked over his shoulder toward the limo.
Castiel knocked on the window, giving the command to open it. It was Pyotr who undertook the task. Castiel stepped out and took a few relaxed steps forward into the cluster of his men. Pyotr was at his side.
"Oh... hello," the brown-haired Beta gave him a greeting, running her gaze from top to bottom, an almost hungry expression on her face. He then took two steps forward, but of course, before she could get any further, Castiel's men stepped in front of him and drew their guns.
Beta stopped, raised the hand that wasn't holding her helmet, and gave a short but cheerful laugh.
"I get it, boys. Look, but don't touch," she quipped with the same arrogant abandon and lack of respect she'd come here with, and the barrels of the guns they were pointing at her clearly didn't worry her.
Castiel squinted his eyes. He was now absolutely certain that she was the mysterious Rachel. Only someone this arrogant would be able to walk fearlessly into their territory and move around for weeks, plotting an attack against the Bratva and then confront the head of the New York branch without so much as a blink. Either that... either she was that arrogant and presumptuous and believed she was doing an exceedingly good job and the Brotherhood knew nothing, or she was just a stupid fool.
"Lay down your weapons," he ordered his men in Russian. "What is Alastair's message to me?" He asked in English when all his men had their guns back in their holsters. His gaze was fixed on the brunette as he did so, his nostrils flaring a little as he tried to catch her faint Beta scent. It wasn't easy, especially with the perfume-soaked Pyotr at his side, but he thought he caught a hint of damp conifer flowing from her direction, overlaid with the typical smell of gasoline and a hot motorcycle. That was why he thought it might be her scent.
"It's just that he'll be a few minutes late," she replied simply, whereupon she grinned a little. "Do you know what the roads are like at rush hour? He got stuck in traffic and sent me ahead. I'm Meg, by the way."
Even as he was about to reply, before he could get around to it, Alastair's limousine pulled into the warehouse. It rolled smoothly even in the small space and parked through the side door to Castiel's Mercedes.
All was quiet. Nothing was happening. No one moved.
Castiel watched Alastair's car, knowing exactly what was going through Beta's mind. He was counting how outnumbered Castiel's men were and trying to guess if there were a few more besides the ones he could see. It couldn't be expected to intimidate Beta, but at the very least it was a sure show of force and a warning not to let Alastair try anything today.
The limousine door finally opened and one of Alastair's men stepped out. He didn't remember his name, that was what he had other people for anyway, but he remembered his face from the photographs. His gray jacket, which was a sort of unwritten uniform of Alastair's men, was unbuttoned so that the holster of his gun was clearly visible underneath. There was no other weapon in sight, except for the large fists on his muscular arms. Beta looked around, an impassive expression on his face, then stepped aside to give room for the next person to come forward.
Of course, Alastair took his time, but that only gave Castiel a chance to suck in air. The smells were sparse since they were outside and the hall was large, but the metal walls were a good protection from the airflow after all. At the very least, he could discern that there was no Alpha anywhere in the area besides the Golem, so Alastair hadn't brought one with him.
Then, finally, Alastair himself appeared.
Castiel's Alpha growled deeply in the need to lunge forward right now and bite the throat of the arrogant bastard who dared to touch his Mate, but Castiel pushed him back and remained motionless. He didn't allow what he smelled to Alastair to penetrate his face or his scent. Alastair might not be an Alpha, but from the few encounters he'd had, Castiel got the impression that he was definitely one of the Betas whose sense of smell was abnormally good.
"Castiel..." Alastair broke the silence, his chin lifted, shoulders squared in an Alpha pose that he struck at the Beta with an incredible ease and authenticity that affected Castiel's instincts.
"Alastair," he replied just as curtly, and it took some effort not to return the same pose. No matter how hard Alastair tried to come across as an Alpha, he was a Beta, and he wasn't entitled to Castiel treating him like one. And he knew full well that ignoring Alastair's attempts to provoke him would piss him off and throw him off balance. It worked, in fact, just like it did every time they met. Alastair's corners twitched a little as he tried to keep his smile, though a hint of anger flared in his eyes.
Castiel swallowed an amused smile. Maybe Alastair really did feel like an Alpha, and if that was the case, Castiel knew all too well what it was like when another Alpha didn't find you worthy of a single pose, a show of teeth, or a growl. How it was even more humiliating than losing and having to show neck and submission.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation," he continued calmly and politely, sliding his gaze to his small entourage as he did so, just to further show that he didn't appreciate Alastair's provocations.
"Who wouldn't want to spend a cold morning in an old warehouse?"
"Sorry about that, but it was necessary. I brought you something I can't give you in public." He motioned to his men.
Boris and Yuri pulled one package, wrapped thickly with a thick plastic sheet, in front of Castiel, and a limping Jacob and a somewhat battered Vadim dragged the other. Then all it took was a few kicks and jerks and both tarps unfurled enough to reveal a trio of corpses.
Two belonged to Alastair's men and one to some hooker who happened to get under Yuri's arm. She was an Omega, but she probably didn't belong to Alastair, because she was treading on the neutral territory of the small pimps, which lay between Japanese and Korean territory. But that didn't matter much. She died when they were taking out Alastair's men, so she was Alastair's responsibility.
The man who had accompanied Alastair shifted from foot to foot, his expression stiffening, and it was obvious that he would have liked to raise his hand to his weapon, and from the sharp gaze with which he sized up each of Castiel's men, he knew exactly how to react to the corpses. But he stayed where he was, waiting for Alastair's orders.
"And I wondered why they weren't answering the messages," Alastair muttered unperturbed.
"It's Duke and Marco," Meg uttered at the sight of the corpse, whereupon he looked up in Castiel's direction, amused, and showed his teeth in a grin. "You killed them. Do you want a war?"
"If they wanted war, they would have left their corpses on our territory and not bothered to transport them," Alastair countered, without taking his eyes off Castiel. "But since they invited us here.... they want to talk. Isn't that right, Castiel?"
"No," he refused simply, thrusting his hands idly into his trouser pockets. "As far as they're concerned," he nodded his head to the corpses, "there's nothing to talk about. You know very well why we killed them and that we had the authority to do it. But you're right about one thing; I don't want war. I'm willing to end it with this. What do you say?"
"Hmm... I don't know," Alastair drawled with a hint of mockery, his upper lip lifting as if he were pricing fangs, even though he had none. "I'm not sure I want to just let it go that you killed two of my men."
Castiel tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Before you decide, you should know that I have something you want and I'm willing to give it to you."
"What do you have that you think I want?" He asked with mock amusement.
"I know where John Winchester is," he said calmly, really enjoying the mixture of expressions that ran across Alastair's face at great speed. First it was anger at the mere sound of old Winchester's name that made his upper lip twitch and actually coaxed something surprisingly similar to an Alpha growl from his chest. Then it was clear disbelief, he probably didn't believe Castiel actually had any information, then there was something like indifference to the point of emptiness, but that was quickly replaced by an arrogant smile.
"What made you think I wanted to know about a certain John Winchester?"
"I know you're looking for him because he robbed you."
"Suppose I am interested. What are you offering and what will you want in return?"
He pulled a flash drive from his pocket.
"Here's all the information on John Winchester, including his fake identities, the places he frequents, and where you would have most certainly found him last night. I'll give it to you, and I'm willing to give you any other information I can get on him. I want in return, first; this," he nodded towards the bodies lying on the ground, "is the end of our argument. I will no longer retaliate against you, and you will no longer retaliate against me, and we will go back to keeping our contract and forget this incident."
"Why not? War would not be good for business. What next?" Alastair agreed so quickly and easily that it slightly unnerved him.
He knew that what Winchester had taken from Alastair was something extremely important, probably something like a list of prominent clients or perhaps something that could be used to blackmail Alastair himself. Evidence of his involvement in something that would surely get him sent to prison for life if not the electric chair, or that someone equally powerful would want to kill him for. But he didn't expect to give up so easily. Perhaps what John Winchester had or knew was something even more important and dangerous to Alastair than Castiel could imagine. That meant it was something he could use and something he would be happy to acquire. But there was no turning back now. He had to hand old Winchester over to Alastair whether he wanted to or not.
"I want you to kill Winchester. And I want you to do it in such a way that his corpse will be found."
"I was planning to make a cautionary example of him anyway. But why do you want him dead?"
"Because his Omega son is now my Omega," he pointed out the word 'my', thus claiming Dean as his own. And he let enough of his Alpha rise to the surface to make a warning growl echo in his throat, audible even over the whistling of the wind between the iron beams. At the same time, he deliberately didn't use Dean's name, because Alastair knew full well who he was talking about, and Castiel in turn knew how Beta felt about Omegas; he considered them property, commodities, little more than animals to be owned and controlled. That was why Alastair was willing to acknowledge Castiel's claim on Dean, but would consider it weakness if he made it clear that he saw him as something more than a nice accessory and a warm, wet, tight hole for his knot.
Alastair laughed loudly and uncomfortably.
"'Well, well... even you finally succumbed to the sweet smell of Omega and now you're worried someone will take it away from you?" He asked mockingly; Castiel remained silent and expressionless. "'Okay. I have no problem getting Winchester out of your way, but if you want my advice, just pair the pretty little thing. He may be a rebellious little animal, but with your bite and a little training him, he'll be docile and loyal."
"And tether him to yourself for the rest of his life?" He asked coldly, his Alpha growling softly in his mind in displeasure at what he had already said and what he was about to say, because that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to keep Dean attached to him, to make him his alone forever. Until his last breath. But he had to tell Alastair otherwise. Let him know that Dean was his and he couldn't touch him, but at the same time, he couldn't let Beta think that he cared too much for him. That would make him one of the most valuable targets in the war. "I'm not interested in having a clingy Omega at home who will follow my every move. But you can't even imagine that. You're a Beta, Alastair, you don't understand the power of the mating bond between Alpha and Omega," as he said this, Alastair pursed his lips in displeasure, his nostrils flaring in either suppressed anger or trying to feel if Castiel was telling the truth, his eyes flaring with the same anger that flared when he refused to give him the proper Alpha respect. "Now... do we have a deal?"
Alastair gave himself that moment of apparent tension, wanting to make Castiel nervous, but he already knew the deal was done.
"We have a deal," Beta said finally.
Castiel nodded to Yuri, who immediately approached him so he could hand him the flash drive and send him to Alastair with another nod. Meg stepped in front of her boss and met Yuri somewhere in the middle of the road. He didn't know what Yuri had done or possibly whispered as he leaned toward the brown-haired Beta woman during the handover, but her disgusted smirk suggested as much as the manner and the vigor with which she had snatched the flash drive from his hand. And the brisk pace at which she strode back to Alastair.
"I hope you won't be offended if I check," Alastair said smoothly, almost slitheringly.
"Go ahead."
Alastair nodded to Meg, who ducked into the limo for a moment to return with the tablet she'd handed him. After plugging the flash drive into the tablet, there was a long moment during which Alastair ran his gaze and finger across the screen in preoccupation.
"Is it what I promised?"
"There's enough there to keep me happy with our deal."
"In that case there is no longer any reason to linger in this unkind place. I'm sure we both have better or more important things to do. I wish you well in your business, Alastair," he said goodbye, and was almost turning to leave before he decided to make one point: "And clean up this mess," nodding his head towards the corpses. "Those two are definitely not our responsibility, and she... I'm sure you'll have some space for her somewhere," he added, turning to leave.
Pyotr beat him to the door. He had his hand on the hood and was just about to climb in when Alastair spoke:
"Just a word of advice, Castiel."
He turned to him and raised his eyebrows questioningly
Alastair took two steps forward. It was then that he noticed his left leg buckling a little. Not significantly, and had he not known that Dean had promised Alastair wouldn't be dancing for a few weeks, he probably wouldn't have noticed. But like this... He felt a surge of pride in his Omega, and an amused smile curled one corner of his lips against his will. He hoped it was such a small smile that Alastair hadn't noticed.
"You should train your pet better."
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a little. "He listens to me and bites you and your men. I think he's perfectly trained," he concluded, taking a moment to savor Alastair's expression of suppressed rage before getting into the car. He certainly didn't like the fact that he knew how easily Dean could not only handle his men, but that he'd even dared to take on Alastair himself.
He slid across the seat just enough to make room for Pyotr, who got in behind him and slammed the door behind him. The car set into motion and headed towards the exit. He didn't bother to wonder what was going on outside, the men could take care of themselves and Alastair no doubt could too, so he just reached into his pocket for his cigarettes and lit up.
"Have you noticed the motorcycle?" Pyotr asked.
"Yes. Looks like we found our mystery Rachel."
"Now there's not a single excuse for those who would disagree with our plan," the burly Beta stated with satisfaction.
Castiel gave him a quick glance and a small, amused smile, and patted him on the knee.
"You're absolutely right, my friend," he agreed, tucking his cigarette behind his fangs and reaching into his pocket. "Now give me a moment. I have to make a quick call," he said, looking up Shurley's number and putting the phone to his ear.
It didn't take four rings before Shurley's voice came directly through on the other end.
"Good morning, Alpha Novak," the lawyer greeted him politely.
"Shurley..." he returned, sucking in a puff of smoke before continuing. "I have a job for you. Remember when we talked about custody for my Omega?"
"Sure."
"It seems inevitable soon. I want you to get ready. Look over the paperwork and make sure there will be no way anyone can take him away from me."
"If his situation is as you indicated, that won't be a problem, but I'll need some information on him."
"I'll supply you with everything you need. Come to Blue Sky tomorrow afternoon and we'll discuss it."
"Of course, Alpha. I'll look forward to tomorrow afternoon."
Not finding that a worthy response, he simply hung up the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, satisfied that this problem was moving toward resolution. When Alastair took care of Dean's father, it was inevitable that the local government would take an interest in his sons. It might take a few days or even weeks to find out his real name, the fact that he had children and where they might be, but it was almost certain that it would happen eventually. At that point, Castiel would be ready. True, it wasn't going to be the most ideal, and he didn't want to take his Omega's freedom like this, but then again, he wasn't going to have him taken by John Winchester or disappear into the system either. And anyway, it won't be forever...
He felt Pyotr's intense gaze, so he turned to him and raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"I know what you're planning for Dean Jankovich, but... what about his brother?"
"Samuel is my responsibility only as long as he's with Dean," he replied, kicking the ashtray out the door and stubbing out his cigarette. "He's an Alpha, Pyotr. Alphas are well taken care of in this country. They'll find him a family that will take him in and raise him to be a lawyer, a doctor, or a future politician. I wouldn't worry about him."
"I don't think his older brother will see it the same way."
"Probably not at first, but..." he turned to Beta. "Once one of us has children, they usually stay among their own. I'm third generation, so I know what I'm talking about. And let's be honest; most people don't want their sons and daughters doing our work and living in our world. When Dean realizes what his brother's life would be like, he'll realize he's better off giving it up."
"If you think so, boss. But the blood is strong. It's not easy to cleanse yourself of it."
"I'm the last person you need to point that out to," he retorted sharply, ending the debate, and reached for the intercom button. "Golem. We're going to see Dean. I'll be there for a while, so in the meantime, take Pyotr Nikitovich to his office," he ended the connection to the front of the car and leaned back in his seat with a satisfied expression.
He couldn't wait to see his Dean.
Chapter 36
Notes:
I know it took me a long time to post a new chapter again, but it's quite long and I haven't had much time to write. I usually write in the evenings, but since Christmas is coming up, I had to sacrifice a few evenings to baking Christmas cookies.
By the way... in my country, today is St. Nicholas Day. He goes around the houses in the company of the devil and the angel and gives out sweets to the children. So take some sweets to celebrate. ;-)
Chapter Text
He put a box of condoms on the bedside table. He stepped back and looked around the room. He left the bed a little messy, as if he had just gotten out of it, which he did. He took a quick shower to get rid of the nighttime smell of anxiety, then crawled into bed with his phone and the packets of lube he'd bought with the condoms. He hesitated for a moment before deciding whether to use them at all. Then he opened one packet, sniffed and tasted it. It had only a faint, vaguely artificial smell and a slightly sweet taste that he was sure would be lost in the sour-sweet taste of his own slick. And it was a lot thicker than what his ass could produce. He was really grateful for that. He used all the packages and tried to shove his wet fingers as deep into his ass as he could while watching porn with two busty Beta brunettes. And when he was sure he couldn't take any more fucking and stretching of his own ass, he moved to the semi-hard cock and jerked off, leaving a wet spot on the bed and the smell of an aroused and satisfied Omega. The same smell was in the air, though not as strong as when he was really enjoying himself, but he doubted Castiel would know the difference. He'd never been in the room Dean had enjoyed his five minutes of fame in before.
He was as pleased with the result of his efforts as his nervousness would allow. The room reeked not of anxiety, but of excitement. He dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt (no briefs or socks), his cheeks felt wet between his butt cheeks and his hole felt strangely loose and constricted in the need for fulfillment. Castiel finds exactly what every Alpha wants; a submissive, aroused, wet and relaxed Omega, ready for his cock and knot.
He licked his dry lips and his gaze slid back to the condom box. It stood there invitingly in the company of a lamp and a phone. Maybe a little too invitingly. The whole box seemed to indicate he was ready to fuck the day away, and he certainly wasn't. He grabbed the box off the table, opened it and pulled out a single condom in a black wrapper. He rubbed the matte surface, a little like velvet to the touch, between his fingers before placing the condom on the coffee table and shoving the rest of the box into the drawer.
Through the open bedroom door he heard the rattle of keys in the lock.
His heart skipped a beat and his first impulse was to reach for the gun he kept in his nightstand before he realized it was only Castiel. Alastair's men wouldn't have the keys, regardless of the fact that they probably wouldn't be able to get past Baldy with a dagger on his chest.
He quickly ruffled his hair to give it some shape, adjusted the shirt on his shoulders so he didn't look completely disheveled, and with one last glance checked that everything was as it should be. Mainly that his bags were safely stuffed in the closet and there wasn't any dirty laundry or anything like that lying around. He took a deep breath, pushing his nervousness and fear to the back of his mind, and opened his bedroom door, immediately getting a glimpse of Alpha closing the door behind him.
Castiel turned from the latch he'd just clicked into place, and their gazes met.
"'Hello, Dean," he greeted in that haunting voice of his that sounded like flowing whiskey and despite the distance that separated them Dean's nose caught the scent of sweet cherry pie and Alpha's arousal. It was enough to get his blood racing in the right direction. He soaked in the sensations the scent and Castiel's presence brought him and plunged forward without a greeting. Greeting meant talking, and talking meant thinking, and thinking was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment for fear of starting to panic.
Fortunately, Castiel was completely on the same page and took two long strides to meet him. They met somewhere in the middle in a hungry, hard kiss, full of teeth and tongue and Castiel's hands sliding under Dean's open shirt without missing a beat.
Alpha leaned into him. He gave in to it, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall. He ran his hands up Castiel's chest to his shoulders, under the fabric of his jacket, and began to pull it off his shoulders. The alpha grunted in agreement, letting go of his hips just long enough to pull his jacket off, meanwhile burying his face in the crook of Dean's neck. He rolled his head to the side, digging his fingers into his tousled brown hair, only vaguely aware of the sound of the fabric falling to the floor as he focused on the wet lips exploring his skin. And on Alpha's excited yet satisfied growl that made his skin tingle in every place Castiel's mouth touched him.
On his neck, his collarbones, then on the sensitive nipple that Alpha washed with a flick of his tongue, and further down to just above his navel. Dean's stomach muscles contracted under the touch. It hurt a little because the bruises were still fresh. Castiel must have realized it, because he pulled back, straddled his purple-spotted belly, and buried his face right into his crotch.
"Oh! Shit..." he let out half in surprise, his cock twitching against the fabric of his pants, but unfortunately also against the zipper. Shit, he hadn't quite thought this one through. He wanted to give Cas quick access, but he wasn't thinking about his own cock, which, now fully hard, was grinding against the zipper.
For some reason, Alpha found the sounds Dean was making extremely funny as he laughed gruffly, only he didn't have the decency to take his mouth off his cock. Or at least shut his mouth and didn't drool on his jeans.
He pushed his fingers into his hair harder in an attempt to somehow control him, but Castiel wouldn't let up. He continued to let out an amused growl, digging his nose into Dean's groin, rubbing his cheek against the straining fly and... Fuck! He even licked over the fabric with a few long strokes before deciding that this probably wasn't it and reaching for the button.
That's when Dean sobered up a little, and this time he pulled his head away from his crotch to really stop him. An angry snarl left Castiel's lips and impatience and remorse flashed in the eyes he raised to Dean.
"Bed," he snapped, trying to calm him down a little. "Let's go to bed."
If it was going to happen, it was going to happen in a soft bed and clean sheets. He didn't want to end up kneeling here on the floor, legs and arms worn from the carpet, the heavy weight of Alpha on his back, squeezing and suffocating him... His insides clenched icily. He wasn't allowed to think about this. He didn't want to think about it.
"Hmm... good idea, moy Din," agreed the Alpha, who was already lifting himself off the ground, but despite his words, he cupped Dean's face in his hands and kissed him again, pressing him against the wall.
Dean remained steadfast in his goal of getting them into the bedroom, so he only returned the kiss for a moment before he broke it and, to Castiel's disgruntled growl, pulled himself out of his arms and tried to make his way to the bedroom. Of course, the alpha wasn't going to let him go. He grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to him. Dean's ass collided with his crotch, and more importantly, the hard bulge that was squeezed between his cheeks as hard as it could be. He did manage to pick up one thing from the few opportunities he had; it took Alpha a little longer to get his cock hard, but then he had a long stamina. If he was already this hard, it meant he must have been aroused all the way here, or maybe since Dean had invited him. It was ridiculous, but he felt pleased with himself, and his Omega growled excitedly at the idea of his Alpha wanting him so badly that he'd run all excited maybe halfway across town just to be with Dean.
A playful growl escaped his lips, he didn't know how, and he ground his ass against the hardness pressed against him. The alpha added his own growl, but also sighed, and then buried his head in the crook of his neck, clamping his shoulder between his teeth in the exact spot where he'd left his mark yesterday. It hurt a little, but unlike his stomach, it was a good kind of pain.
"Don't push me," he whispered in his ear as he squeezed his jaw loose and moved to his ear. "Or I'll fuck you and knot you up right here and now," he added, letting go.
It was a threat that sent a shiver of excitement through his body, but also fear. He really didn't want to end up here on the floor.
He took advantage of the freedom he was given and quickly made his way to the bedroom. He paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the doorjamb, and looked over his shoulder. The alpha followed close behind him. He was barefoot now, one hand flicking his tie away and the other pulling his shirt out of his pants. His stance, the way he leaned slightly, the slightly parted lips showing a hint of fangs underneath, and his eyes with their wide pupils and red tint screamed one thing; Alpha hunting Omega. And it was definitely having an effect on Dean's Omega. She urged him to run, even though there was nowhere to go. She made him at least circle the bed, putting it between himself and Casitel, provoking the Alpha a little. But he did none of that, instead just cocked his eyebrows coquettishly, threw off his shirt, and backed into the bedroom.
In fact, even that little was enough to provoke Case. He covered the few steps with more of a leap, managing to remove his shirt on the way, and stood in the doorway, his hands gripping the two jambs as he tried to block off any path his Omega might take to escape. And he looked so fucking gorgeous, with that messy hair and that wild look in his eyes that Dean knew was there just for him.
He pulled Castiel up by his belt and while he smothered his growls with kisses, he pushed him over to the bed and made him sit on it. The alpha didn't object to the manipulation, but the moment he broke away from the kiss, he gripped Dean's shoulders as he tried to stop him from going anywhere.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alpha," he assured him, his voice husky and breathless.
"I'd catch you, Omega," came the warning from Castiel, but he let go and let him continue to do what he wanted.
He quickly undid the button and zipper of Castiel's expensive trousers and with his help, pulled them off his hips along with his boxers and then on. He had to kneel down to get them off his legs, since the Alpha obviously had no intention of lifting his legs much, but that didn't matter. It still put him in the position he wanted to be in, for a number of reasons. He really wanted to suck Alpha's cock. And it didn't matter what his morning gloom thoughts were. Just the feeling of Castiel inside him was something that made the empty space in his lower belly quiver with need and his asshole clench and flow in excitement. Much more now than at any other time. His pants definitely had to be soaked, not just from the front, from Castiel's saliva, but from the back as well.
He dropped to his knees between Alpha's spread legs and looked up at his cock and the heavy balls hanging below it. And vaguely, pleasantly intoxicated by Alpha's aroused scent, full of sweet notes, he realized he had another reason. Oh, right... if he gave his cock a little suck, then it wouldn't take so long. That was it. That was the main thing. To spare his ass some discomfort. With that exact thought in mind, he slid forward, leaned over, wrapped his fingers around Castiel's only slightly swollen knot, and sucked the tip of his dick into his mouth. A familiar bitterness with a hint of cherry and the weight of warm flesh on his tongue greeted him. He already knew that. He already knew this well, so he opened his jaws wide and let his penis slide deeper into his mouth. It went a little easier than he remembered from yesterday, so he gave himself courage and grabbed Cas's balls with his free hand.
He knew he hadn't done it very skillfully, and the sound Castiel made was more surprised than thrilled, but he didn't stop him. He just buried his hand in his hair, like he always did, which actually made him feel more confident. He started sucking and sliding his lips over the warm flesh, fiddling a little with the balls in his hand and mostly looking up to watch Castiel's reactions. It was only the third time he'd seen him from that position, but he could read him. He was sure of that. They stared into each other's eyes at first, but then... then Castiel's eyes closed and his breathing quickened. He wasn't very noisy or anything, but the grunts shook his chest, and the way he clenched his jaw, Dean recognized it. He wasn't on the edge yet, but he wasn't too far from it.
This was perhaps the best time to stop.
He let his cock slip from his mouth, let go of his balls, but the knot pressing into his palm was still there, even squeezing a little.
Castiel's blue eyes opened sharply and looked down at him.
His heart suddenly raced, his stomach tightened, and a coldness began to creep up his spine. Shit, Winchester, don't be such a scared little girl. How can you take his cock and the knot in your ass if you're afraid to even ask for it?
"I want you to fuck me, Alpha," he said. It was out in the open. But it wasn't a relief. Still, the surprise that crossed Alpha's face surprised him, as if he hadn't actually expected it. But the surprise was quickly replaced by a pleased smile with a hint of predation, in which he showed his perfectly white teeth and the golden flash of his false fangs.
"I thought for a moment you weren't going to ask for that," he replied with determined smugness, raking through Dean's hair almost playfully.
Going to ask for... so he came here with the distinct idea that it was going to happen today. He'd been expecting it. He'd expected Dean to be the one to ask because... because all that talk yesterday about showing gratitude had been about this. Of course it was. Dean almost laughed bitterly. He'd gotten caught up in some romantic tale about a prince saving him from the evil wizard Alastair or some shit like that again. Alpha Castiel was far from a prince, and it should have been no surprise at all that he used Sam against Dean and to get him to do what he wanted. Whatever had happened since they'd met, whatever Alpha had done or said, it was naive to think things had changed.
He lowered his gaze to the ground to hide whatever he might have in his eyes and to better focus on controlling his breath and his scent. And on keeping calm. Still... a cold stone settled in his stomach as he rose from his place at Alpha's feet, and his Omega was confused. Letting his Alpha finally knot him was exactly what she wanted, and she was even more eager to bite the exact mark the Alpha had left on him. It was just a jumble of stupid instincts that were completely at odds with Dean's other feelings; fear, sadness and a sense of humiliation. So he ignored his Omega, quickly unzipped his pants, let them fall down around his legs, and finally stepped out of them.
Then he looked up at the Alpha.
He sat with his legs spread wide to take up as much space for himself as possible, showing off his hard cock with its swelling knot. His hands rested on the bed, comfortably folded, and he watched Dean through squinted eyes that glistened with the color of crimson as the blue mingled with Alpha's red. He radiated smug satisfaction, dominance put on display with such ease that Dean had the urge to drop to his knees and show him his neck again. Plus all his tattoos, most of them horrifying, regardless of whether one knew their meaning... He looked as if nothing could threaten or intimidate him, even naked and vulnerable. And it was as if everything around him absolutely belonged to him. Everything, including Dean. Other times he would have liked it, but at this moment, he just didn't. It only fueled the cold flame of fear that swirled in his gut even more.
"I like looking at you, moy prekrasnyy Dean, but I'd rather see you in bed," the Alpha urged without a hint of command in his voice, because he didn't even need to give orders.
He knew Dean would listen to him and obeyed, but before he did, he decided to do it with as much pride as he could muster. He remained firm in his back and walked over to the bed. He almost had his foot up when his gaze fell on the condom. He hesitated at that moment. He didn't feel particularly confident in this situation, because he just didn't have it in his hands, but... damn! He'll have this in his hands if nothing else.
He reached under the condom and with all the sovereignty he could muster, shoved it in front of Alpha's face.
In fact, Alpha allowed himself to look surprised and a little confused as he took over the condom and held it between his fingers as if it was the first time he'd held something like this in his hand. He even tilted his head to the side in that cute way he used to do when he didn't understand something or was confused.
"Do you want me to use it?" He looked up at Dean, his eyes suddenly lacking the previous tinge of red.
"Yeah... yeah, I do," he replied simply, before hesitating and continuing. "It's in Alpha size and it's not latex. I didn't know if you had allergies..." his voice trailed off as he realized he was babbling.
"I get tested regularly and I'm clean." He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and pulled him close. This brought his head so close, his hard cock so close, that he could feel the warm breath as Alpha spoke, "I was hoping..." he spoke in a tone that made it clear he was not only hoping, but certain, "that we could pass on the condom. I want to feel you for the first time, Omega," he growled, pressing a wet kiss to his protruding pelvic bone. "I want to fill you up... watch my cum flow out of you.. be sure you'll smell like me for days... mark you inside and out... Don't you want that too, moy Omega?" He asked, looking up.
Dean shivered not only under his intense gaze, but at his words. The idea was incredibly arousing on an instinctual level. The thought of him being full of... no, it was too much. He didn't want that, and not just because of his illness or the less than two percent chance of getting pregnant. He didn't want it because he had this idea that the first Alpha to fuck and knot his ass and still shoot his puppies in his belly should be someone who loved him. Of course, that was a ridiculous idea. It's going to be Castiel who does it in the end anyway, because like there could be any other Alpha. Or like maybe he wants another. He just... just wasn't going to let him do it the first time, no matter how pointless it was to set his mind up like that. To push things away.
He pursed his lips.
"You may be my first Alpha, but you're not the first, you know? I've had sex with gir... women, and I've never tested myself. You can't know if I'm clean."
Indulgence showed not only in Castiel's eyes, but in the way his corners curled up in a small smile.
"I think I'll take my chances with you," he replied amusedly, as if what Dean said was funny or he didn't believe him and just thought it was bravado and crap like that.
He clenched his jaw to suppress the hostile snarl that was tugging at his lips, not wanting to irritate the Alpha. He had a job to do to make sure he was happy and that meant doing whatever he wanted to do to keep Sammy safe. Or... almost anything he wanted.
"Look... I don't want to get pregnant, okay?"
The alpha pressed his nose to the skin at his groin and sucked in air, deeply and almost obscenely loud.
"You're not in heat." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Still, there's a chance..."
"Small," the Alpha didn't let him finish. "And even if it does happen, nothing changes. You're mine and I'll always take care of you," he added with a possessiveness in his voice that made it clear he would not only take care of him, but always own him.
On the one hand... somewhere in the twisted part of his brain where his Omega resided... Castiel's words comforted him. His Alpha wanted him and wanted puppies with him. It filled him with an absurd sense of satisfaction that he hated. And this hatred of his own feelings only added to the anger he felt, which was completely unnecessary and pointless. Even when he'd bought the condoms, he'd known Castiel looked like the type who wouldn't want to use them, he just hoped he was wrong. It was stupid to be angry when it came to that and Dean found out he was right.
"Nothing without a condom," he said, and even as he took a breath to say it, he knew it was a bad idea. Refusing Alpha wasn't smart, especially when it threatened to put him and Sam on the run, and also because Castiel wasn't going to take no for an answer again.
And he wouldn't.
Instead of letting go of Dean, he gripped him tighter and didn't loosen his grip, even when he struggled into his arms and tried to pull out of his embrace.
"Okay."
Alpha surprised him with his agreement.
The anger, amplified by the Alpha holding him, subsided a little.
"Will you use...?"
"Yes," he replied, not at all enthusiastically, smelling a little bitter, but still aroused. "I won't hide the fact that I'm disappointed. I imagined it differently, but... it's your first time. We'll do it the way you want."
The anger gave way for good to the sudden rush of embarrassment that had taken hold of him. He suddenly felt stupid standing here naked like this, discussing condoms, pregnancy, and his anal virginity, even if it was with Castiel. Or maybe it was because it was with Castiel. And embarrassment and shame were quickly compounded by a wave of fear. Finally, it's really gonna happen today. When the Alpha refused the condom, it was a chance to back out or at least reschedule. And it was also a reason he could sovereignly put forward to Sam when they were standing somewhere in the rain by the side of the road, waiting to see if a bullet would come. But now that the Alpha had agreed, there was no turning back.
"Okay... just..." He glanced at the bed, which was mostly empty since he'd taken most of the pillows up to Sam's room for the occasion to make some space. He licked his lips and looked up again at Alpha, who was looking up at him with blue eyes set in a calm face. He was so damn calm all over, as if all his previous predation and passion was gone, literally oozing from his pores, reflected in his face as he priced his teeth and rattled in his chest in the form of a growl.
Suddenly this whole situation seemed... what was the word? Clinical. Just some routine, something that had to be done and maybe... maybe it was better that way. Earlier, as he thought about it, he'd been thinking that when this was over, after the Alpha let him out of his knot, he might suck Dean's cock. Castiel really was unbeatable at blowjob. And then he might as well take him in his arms to his beautiful, sweet, soothing scent.
Now it looked more like they'd rebuild their own and then the Alpha would just leave. That might be easier in the end. At least he wouldn't have any more, higher expectations and Dean would be over it quickly.
"I'll get in..." somehow he couldn't finish, he felt so stupid, so he just nodded his head towards the middle of the bed.
The alpha just let him go, as if that was some sort of instruction he'd been waiting for, and let his hands drop to his own knees. And he was still looking at Dean with an intense gaze, it just wasn't as clouded with lust and need. He couldn't help it, he was sorry that the Alpha clearly didn't desire him anymore, and it made his Omega whimper. She urged him to do something to tease his Alpha into wanting him again, but Dean ignored it.
He climbed onto the bed and moved more or less to the center of it, taking the position that was expected of him. On all fours, front of his body lowered to his elbows, legs spread and ass thrust out. He was presenting himself to Alpha. It was supposed to be pleasurable, even arousing. It was supposed to play to the strings of his instincts. In porn, the Omegas presented looked as if the position alone could bring them to orgasm.
Dean felt... exposed and defenseless.
He was literally defenseless. He'd have to turn his head at a strange angle to see what was going on behind him, and even then he wouldn't see everything. He couldn't use his fists or his teeth to defend himself. He couldn't kick because he'd lose his balance and hitting behind him with his elbow would be hard too. And if the Alpha was going to bite him, he probably wouldn't notice until the moment his teeth sank into his shoulder. He was at the mercy of whoever saddled him, and that was probably what this whole position was about.
He dug his fingers into the sheets when he heard the creak of the straining mattress and the rustle of the sheets as Alpha moved behind him, and he couldn't help jerking when large, warm hands touched his thighs, running over his ass and gripping his hips. Then he felt a kiss over the cleft of his cheeks and warm breath as Alpha spoke:
"You smell good. I want to taste you. Lick your ass until it turns into a flowing spring..."
Ignoring the fact that it was a bit of an odd simile, so strangely poetic, he just couldn't get back on the wave that was already gone and that Alpha was probably trying to revive. At least the scent he'd left on the bed was still working and Castiel was staying in the mood, even if Dean wasn't, or at least not as much.
He licked his lips.
"Just fuck me," he demanded through still dry lips. "Please, Alpha," he added, wiggling his ass to look needy.
"'Alright," was the half-voiced reply, sounding far too calm, and then Castiel's hands were gone.
He heard another creak of the mattress before an empty condom wrapper landed directly in his field of vision, as if to show Castiel that he'd kept his promise. Dean's stomach did a twist. There was definitely no turning back now.
Heat pressed against the back of his thighs. A hard cock, definitely covered by a condom, slid down the inside of his right thigh and rested against his balls. Castiel leaned over him, covering him with the warmth of his body and the cherry and musk scent, and his strong hand came to rest on the back of his head. He held him down as any proper Alpha would do to a proper Omega.
Dean closed his eyes.
Gone was the always somewhat faint idea that he would eventually like it, leaving only the determination to stick it out and the certainty that Castiel, while not gentle because it wasn't in his nature, wouldn't be rough either. For he was sure that, despite everything, his Alpha never really wanted to hurt him.
The tip of Castiel's cock pressed against his hole. It was definitely bigger than the fingers he'd managed to shove up his ass before, and it spread the edges of his entrance to a pinching pain.
Unable to stop himself, he moved his hips forward to escape the pressure, but Alpha grabbed him under his belly and pulled him back. The massive cock invaded his hole again.
His ass clenched as if to stop the invasion and the bruised muscles of his stomach tensed to the pain.
He thought he was pretty relaxed and wet, but suddenly he felt like all of his own wetness, and lubricant, had simply evaporated. All that remained was the acrid friction, the pain in the stretched hole into which Alpha persisted in thrusting his cock in small, shallow bursts, and the ache in his bruised belly. Fuck... It was just pain and disgust at what was happening. Nothing else. Not even the smell of an excited Alpha could chase away what he was feeling. Tears burned in his eyes and he felt a quick, cold sweat break out on his back and forehead.
He just wished it would be over quickly. That Castiel would just shove his cock in, pump a few times, knot him for a few minutes, and then let go. Or just stop right away.
As if Alpha heard his thoughts, he pulled out and bent over Dean. He literally overwhelmed him all over with his weight, heat, and scent, and pressed his lips to his neck. He shivered under his touch.
"You're too tense," came a husky voice in his ear, and another kiss landed on the lobe of his ear. "You need to calm down and relax, okay? Will you do that for me? Relax and let me in, Omega."
Those words... those fucking words were like a kick in the stomach. His insides flipped and for one horrible moment, he was in a completely different place. Face pressed to the carpet, with a completely different Alpha lying on his back, reeking of the putrid stench of heat.
"No!" Slipped out of his mouth, and he moved his head so hard that he knocked Alpha's hand off the back of his head, and even managed to escape the grip of the hand that held him under his stomach, but he couldn't quite get away. Castiel followed him with a small, possessive growl. He grabbed his hips and pressed them against the mattress.
In that moment, Dean realized again where he was and, more importantly, who he was with, and you could tell it calmed him down.
"Wait... wait..." he breathed in a rush, and this Alpha, his Alpha, immediately stopped, the pressure on Dean's hips easing. "Just... just give me a minute, okay, Alpha? Just a minute..." he demanded, attempting to throw what looked like a smile over his shoulder.
The expression he saw on Castiel's face was unreadable, but at least he didn't look angry, and when Alpha leaned over him, there was no bitterness in his scent. At least he wasn't angry. That gave Dean time to breathe away the anxiety that gripped his stomach. Then he was determined and willing to try again, just maybe... A silly thought occurred to him that he'd rather see Castiel. He had no idea why. Maybe so that his subconscious wouldn't convince him again that he was in bed with someone else, and maybe... maybe in the end he wanted this whole thing to be at least personal, if not pleasant.
He licked his lips and nodded.
"Can we do it face to face? I'd like to see you..."
Castiel didn't answer, not with words, but he rolled away to allow Dean to turn around. He felt much better lying on his back, legs outstretched, gripping the biceps of the man leaning over him. Lighter and as if he was more in control. He pulled himself up and pressed his lips to Castiel's mouth. The alpha immediately returned the kiss. The bitter taste of the cigarettes was still gross, but it was so much a part of Castiel that it brought another wave of relief, so Dean didn't even flinch when a warm palm slid down his stomach. But he shivered the moment the hand wrapped around his cock because it was so strangely uncomfortable.
Castiel must have noticed his shiver, because he pulled away from the kiss and looked down between their bodies.
Dean followed his gaze, only to fall with a single blink into the deepest hole of humiliation he'd ever dug beneath himself. His cock lay completely soft and shriveled in Castiel's loose grip, like a flattened balloon. Something like this had never happened to him before. Random boners in inappropriate places that he had to either go to the privacy of the bathroom stall to sort out or think of dead kittens to get rid of? Those were the order of the day, but this was... incredibly humiliating. He hadn't even realized when his cock had gone soft. It shouldn't have happened at all. I mean, these things only happened to old men, not sixteen year old boys.
"Sorry," he blurted out, feeling his face go pale. "I don't know what..." his voice trailed off. How the hell was he supposed to defend this? It was the biggest humiliation of his life.
And a disappointment to Castiel. He wanted a willing Omega, not a shaky wretch with a soft cock.
"It will happen. We'll leave it for another time," the Alpha replied, calmly almost distantly, and began to pull away.
Wait? What? No! No! No!
The excitement and sweetness began to fade from Castiel's scent, replaced by the smell of bitter almonds, dissatisfaction and rejection. He smelled like a once delicious cherry pie that had been tucked away in the back of someone's fridge for too long. And that was wrong. It was so very wrong on so many levels. Dean's Omega was whimpering because he wanted nothing more than to please his Alpha and he knew he couldn't let... the Alpha come here to get fucked. If he had to leave unsatisfied, he'd be pissed. Anyone would be. But Castiel wasn't everyone. No one else had the power to send Sam out into the street right into Alastair's arms, and of course, Deana with him.
"Wait... where are you going!" He breathed in a voice that sounded rather desperate even to him, gripping Castiel tightly around the back to keep him from moving away. The alpha stiffened under his grip, but at least he didn't try to pull away any more.
"It's clear you don't want this, Dean."
"What, no! I want it! Of course I want it!" He replied without hesitation; he just had to convince Alpha to fuck him anyway. After all, why should it really matter if he got a hard-on or not? It was about putting his dick up his ass. He could have been soft the whole time and it wouldn't have made any difference to Alpha. He would have enjoyed it anyway. "I'm just nervous, okay? That's what it is."
"I was nervous the first time, too, but this didn't happen to me," he said, as if perhaps that was some kind of argument. Of course his cock never wilted in the middle of the action. He was an Alpha, and he just didn't seem like someone it could happen to. Dean didn't think of himself as one that could ever happen to him either, but apparently he did.
"You're not an Omega. I am, and this... the nervousness and the emotions and this shit, it happens. We're like that. Us Omegas, you know?" he tried to play it that way, because that was to be believed, right? Omegas were easily swayed by emotions, everyone knew that. "Don't leave now, Alpha. I want you. I need you," he pleaded longingly, knowing how to do it, and he pulled himself up to curl his face against Castiel's jaw and neck and began to rub against him, smearing his scent all over him. And he showered his ear with little kisses, then continued up to his shoulder. "I bet you can put little Dean back on guard. All you have to do is stick your big cock in me. That's what you want, isn't it?" He even managed to elicit a growl, sucking the sensitive, browned skin of Castiel's gland between his lips before continuing to whisper and stroke his back. "You want to fuck my tight virgin ass hard and spread it with your knot, am I right? Hmm?" He slid his hand down Alpha's back, over the side between their bodies, where he felt his cock. He was a little unused to touching wet skin instead of a condom, and it also seemed smaller and softer than the last time he'd held it, but he could fix that. All it took was a few strokes and a little whispering. "I want it. I'm only wet for you, Alpha. I want you to fill me up. I want my belly swollen with your puppies..." He continued to recite all sorts of porn lines, including ones promising to get pregnant. The Alphas liked that. The idea of their Omegas, or partners in general, rolling around with a huge belly containing their puppy.
"That's enough!" Castiel interrupted, gripping the wrist of the hand that was stroking his cock and pulling it away. "I've been out of the mood for a long time," he said sharply, his face rigid, his gaze cold, and the smell of displeasure, bordering on disgust and anger, wafting from every pore.
Dean immediately pulled back, letting go of Castiel and instinctively crouching, gaze lowered, neck exposed. He was sure now was the best time to be a proper Omega, because this was going to get fucked up. He hadn't fucked up like this in a long time.
Alpha rolled to the edge of the bed and threw his legs over it. Dean slowly sat up, staring silently at his naked back. The tattoos sagged as he gathered his clothes off the ground, obviously about to leave. The air was heavy with the scent of sex that still lingered from the times they'd both enjoyed it, but was now slowly being pushed out by a mixture of Alpha's anger in the form of bitter almonds and stale cake and Dean's own smell of unhappy Omega, into which a sour fear was creeping. What now? He didn't think Castiel would punish him or anything. He didn't look like it. But he certainly wasn't succeeding in keeping the Alpha happy. If Sammy growled and attacked him again, and Alpha was in a bad mood at the time, he might make good on his threat and throw little Alpha out on the street. And Dean didn't know how to prevent or stop that from happening.
"Don't kick us out," he said in a tired and resigned voice.
"What?" Castiel turned to him, a wrinkle between his brows and sounding confused.
He wanted to laugh, but swallowed it down and went back to what he was trying to do. To begging.
"Don't kick us out. We have nowhere to go, we don't have enough money, and Alastair would be right on our heels. I want to stay here, in this flat..." I want to stay with you, he finished for himself mentally, because he couldn't say it out loud. He was already pathetic, begging here like this.
"What are you talking about, Omega? I have no intention of kicking you out," he replied, continuing to look so confused, his head tilted to the side and wrinkles between his brows. Suddenly his expression softened, the lines around his mouth deepened, and the blue lagoons filled with warmth. "Dean… lyubov' moya… I'm not angry about this," he looked down at his lap. "Come here and kiss me," he urged, reaching out as he often did, as if to caress his cheek.
He moved away and knocked his hand away at the same time.
There was no way he could stand this. Just no more. He'd put up with it all this time. All these weeks. He'd acted like it was real and at times forgotten it wasn't, but he wasn't stupid. And he wanted the Alpha to finally stop treating him like he was. But he prided himself on keeping Dean in some kind of fake world, maybe because he believed that shit about Tru Mate. Maybe he'd even fooled himself into thinking it was real. Dean didn't care. He just needed them to stop pretending already.
"'Stop it! Just... just stop it!" He got out through his tightened throat. Tears stung his eyes, he could even feel them gathering in the corners of his eyes, so he blinked them away. He wasn't about to burst into tears in front of Alpha like some pathetic, needy, hysterical Omega. "I don't want to do this anymore, Cas. I don't want to pretend there's something real between us. I'm not stupid and I know where I stand. I understand how this," he waved his hand between them, "works. You don't shoot me and throw me in the river, even though I know what I know, and you give me gifts and money and let us live in this flat. And in return, I'll look nice in public and set your ass up in private. I get it, okay? I can live by those rules, or at least I'll try to, just don't... please... pretend otherwise."
"You're not a whore," Castiel objected with a little growl in his voice and, holy shit, he looked really pissed and wronged or something.
This time Dean didn't give a shit and just laughed.
"Of course not!" He snorted bitterly, a sarcastic smile on his lips and in his voice. "Of course I'm not. I'm... how do you say it politely? Your kitten? Your sugar boy? And you're my sugar daddy with a big gun, and I don't just mean your dick." The chuckle faded from his voice as the Alpha rose from the bed and straightened to his full height, giving him a cold stare under which Dean almost cowered.
"Is that what you think is between us?" he asked distantly, his face expressionless, lips tight and eyes like a sullen lake.
"I don't think so, I know it is," he replied, but not as effusively. The way the Alpha looked at him not only made him nervous, there was something creepy about it. It wasn't really anger or anything like that, it was just... "I know, and I can live with it. For Sammy's sake," he said, and as soon as he said it, Alpha's corners twisted into an unkind expression and his scent turned bitter at a speed that was almost unbelievable; obviously he really didn't like Sam and was just hurting him, and it was a very bad idea for Dean to bring up his name. He didn't even know he was moving until he was kneeling on the edge of the bed in front of the Alpha.
"I know you don't like Sam. I'll keep him out of your way, okay? Just..." He was literally physically sick of crawling around begging, but if that was what Alpha wanted and what would keep him from Sammy, then that was what he was willing to do. He was willing to do anything. "I'm gonna stop this whiny shit, okay? You can put a knot in my mouth. You can fuck me wherever you want, whenever you want, however you want. You don't even have to use a condom. You can do whatever you want and I'll just lie there, shut up and take it like a proper Omega, just... don't kick Sam out. If you do, I'll go with him. I can't do otherwise," he wasn't threatening, just stating what he would have to do.
"We need to talk. Get dressed. I'll wait for you in the kitchen," Castiel said simply, and his expression didn't change, only the bitterness in his scent grew stronger, as if what Dean was saying was making him more and more angry. In doing so, he was offering him what any Alpha would want. Especially an Alpha like Castiel Novak. What the fuck more did he want from Dean?
Crawling, begging, presenting himself for him, letting him shove his cock up his ass... sort of. So what more was he supposed to do? And after all that, how could the Alpha afford to just turn his back on Dean and walk away like it was nothing?
He clenched his fists as anger flared inside him, the harsh words slipping onto his tongue on their own.
"What's the problem, Grandpa? Doesn't your cock get hard even with a naked and wet Omega in your bed?" He spat out mockingly, and yes, he was aware of the absurdity of his words, since he was the one whose cock had gone bald, but he still felt satisfaction. It made him feel instantly fucking better to get it out of his system, and if it was too much... if the Alpha was going to turn around and slap him now, like anyone like him would... it was still worth it.
But of course Castiel did no such thing, he just stopped and cocked his head a little to the side, towards Dean, but didn't look at him.
"I'll be waiting in the kitchen," he announced calmly, then walked through the door and simply left a naked Dean kneeling on the bed.
The room was suddenly strangely empty without Alpha in it, and Dean felt just as empty. He was probably exhausted by all this or something, either way he dropped back on his heels and looked around wearily. His gaze lingered briefly on the cat sitting in the window of the opposite house before he began to move slowly. Sitting here enjoying the empty feeling in his head wouldn't make much sense, and the only thing it would accomplish was to piss off Castiel even more.
So he got off the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, and grabbed a shirt on his way to the door as well. He pulled it on and while he buttoned the buttons slowly walked out into the next room. There he was greeted mostly by the smell of newness and fresh plaster, which was simply the strongest, but the bitter almonds and cigarette smoke were also impossible to miss.
He looked up and met Castiel's eyes.
Alpha stood leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand on the edge of the counter. His other arm was bent at the elbow and he held the cigarette so that the burning tip was close to his face. He had no expression and looked calm. Very calm actually. It was like the calm before the storm, and this impression was enhanced by the large black cross on his chest, contrasting with the smaller gold cross glistening under the light of the lamp lit above the dining table and the autumn sun that managed to break through the clouds and find its way through the window to Alpha's back.
Dean didn't feel like there was any space for him to speak, so he just walked quietly over to the table and had to resist the urge to stand at attention. Their Alpha had always wanted his sermon to be listened to in a soldierly posture. Just as often, he wanted them to talk to him that way if it was really important stuff.
"Do you always do that?"
Alpha's question rang through the silent room like the creak of a door in the middle of the night; if it wasn't an outright frightening sound, it was certainly unnerving. However, Deana didn't understand exactly what he was talking about.
"I don't know what you mean..." he didn't even say it as a question, more of a gasp.
Two used lube wrappers immediately landed on the table. He remembered throwing them in the kitchen trash can - it was the only trash can in the apartment, after all, so they couldn't sort the waste, as Sam had neglected to mention - and now they were lying there in front of him, seeming to mock him and, more importantly, reminding him that his butt cheeks were sliding against each other and burning in his stretched hole. How had the Alpha come by the wrappers, anyway? Had he been digging through the trash or what the fuck?
"Where did you get it?" He snapped out with a hint of irritation.
"I was throwing away a cigarette pack," he unfortunately got a perfectly legitimate and logical answer. Then Alpha took a drag, slowly blew out the smoke, and finally took two small steps, so that only the dining room table separated them, and spoke, "I know it was real once, but the other times... Do you do it every time we're supposed to see each other? Yesterday, before you came to the Doll? Before that at Blue Sky and at my apartment? Every time you prepare yourself to make me think you're wet for me?" He asked these ridiculous and embarrassing questions and Dean didn't know what to say in response so he kept quiet and just stared into Castiel's face until he asked the last one, "Have you wanted to do that even once in all time?"
"Yes!" He exclaimed instantly, not only because it was true, but... God... at that last sentence, a rush of sourness and regret and sadness rolled out of Castiel, or at least he thought it was sadness. That Castiel smelled like an unhappy Alpha. "Every moment...! Mostly... I... " He paused. It was hard for him to talk about all this emotional shit, since he didn't know what to say. Should he open up here? Because this probably wasn't a 'safe space' as any of the countless school counselors Dean talked to would describe it. And he didn't lay his shit on the table in front of them either, so why should he in front of Castiel? I mean, he was a fucking Russian mobster. Pretty damn far from the kind of people anyone sane should confide in and trust, except Dean trusted him, that's all...
"Talk to me, Omega. Right now," the Alpha ordered.
He could defy his command, hell yeah, even if it was like an itch in his head, and he showed his defiance by being silent for a few moments before it finally came out:
"No, I didn't want to fuck you," he declared mercilessly, and it brought him a sort of sense of satisfaction, but also relief that at that declaration the Alpha straightened his shoulders sharply, pursed his lips, and a shadow appeared on his face. It was as if the answer had touched him, even hurt him, because it mattered to him if Dean wanted to be with him. "The first time I saw you was when you killed someone and then kidnapped me. So what the fuck were you thinking? That I'd jump right on your dick? Yeah, you're a fucking hot piece and you smell great. You got an ass like a god!" He wrung his hands. "But I was scared of you, okay? I thought... that time in the warehouse... you made it clear then what you expected from me and I thought you'd take it right there. That you were going to bend me over a barrel and knotting my ass in front of everyone. I thought you were gonna do it in the car or take me to your place. Or you'd do it sometime later... I..." He inhaled sharply and exhaled to steady his voice. He didn't want Castiel to think he was some kind of hysteric. "Don't take this the wrong way, I'm grateful you waited, but it doesn't change anything. I know what you expect from me. Make yourself clear. And I'm okay with that." He wasn't okay with it at all, but that could go away now.
The Alpha was silent for Dean's taste after his speech for far too long before he shoveled the ashes into the ashtray sitting on the table.
"Even after everything that's happened, you still think I'm all about sex?" He asked in a low tone, which was more frightening than if he had started growling, and slowly made his way around the table. "I can have whoever I want. Not just Omegas, but Betas or Alphas. I can even have a lot younger than you. And I don't have to lift a finger for it. I can just order a little boy like that online like new shoes and have him delivered to my house. If I can have fun so easily, do you really think I'd go to all that effort just to get your ass?" He spoke with a cold ruthlessness that was perfectly suited to who he was, and that was hurtful. "Haven't I told you many times since we met how serious I am about you? Have I failed to tell you?" He stood in front of Dean and looked him closely in the eyes with such force that not only the Omega in him and Dean groaned softly and lowered his head and gaze to his Alpha. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? How much time, effort, resources, and money I've already invested in you? How much of myself have I given you?" He asked pointedly, and this time there was a growl in his chest, but he stifled it at the same moment he choked on his burning cigarette. "Or do you think I tell everyone I fuck that I've worked as a hit man for years, how many people I've killed, and that I now direct the New York chapter of our Brotherhood? Do you think I talk to them about my tattoos and what they mean? I told you a secret that if you told, it would cost not only your life, but mine. I have trusted you with so many things, even though I know that trust always comes at a price." The low growl didn't die down for a moment, on the contrary it grew a little louder when Alpha suddenly grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and pushed, causing Dean to hit his ass against the edge of the table with a surprised gasp, and even though everything told him to keep his eyes down, he looked up at Alpha in a little alarm. There was a hint of red in his eyes that was definitely not the result of desire, as the strong smell of bitter almonds with a hint of something sour almost covered the scent of roasting cherries. This was the first time he had been aggressive to him even in private, and not just in front of his men. Castiel must be really angry. "I longed to kill Alastair and start a war, no matter what it would mean for us. Not only that, I will start a war. People will die. My people will die. And even if my Lieutenants want it... even if they agree... I'm actually betraying them. I'm betraying my brothers, my family, because I'm not doing this for the Bratva. I'm doing this for you! I'm betraying them for you, Dean!" He leaned in so close that their noses were almost touching, and even if he wanted to lower his gaze and show his neck again, he just didn't have the room to do it, so he stared at them into the dark blue lagoons bordered by a streak of Alpha Red. "Anyone else would be grateful. He'd know that if I do all this for him, it means I care. But you don't! You're acting like..." his voice suddenly trailed off, all the sharp lines in his face softening, but not in the pretty way he did when he was being gentle, and the red streak lining his irises faded along with the loosening of the grip in which he held Dean's shirt,"... like a child," he finished with a gasp, letting go of Dean's lapels and taking a step back.
The bitter scent of Alpha's anger still hung in the air, but Dean just knew there was almost no more to come. He didn't know why, but he found it more frightening than the rage pumping around Alpha. And then when Castiel turned his back on him and marched further into the room... moving away from him... his Omega whimpered softly, feeling like the Alpha was leaving him and he didn't want that. Shit! It was so pathetically necessary, but he didn't want Castiel to leave him. He needed him, not just because he needed protection from Alastair... not because he feared retribution from the Bratva... Dean needed Castiel.
"That's the problem," the Alpha uttered without any of the previous anger, almost resignedly, and he didn't turn to Dean as he did so, making it seem more like he was talking to himself. "Pyotr was right. You need time, and I was wrong to think it would work."
Something cold began to crawl up his spine. He had the horrible impression that he was beginning to realize what the Alpha was talking about and he didn't like it at all.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, taking a step forward. To Cas, to his Alpha, and he almost, almost reached out to touch him, but paused at the last moment, preferring to clench it in a fist and let it hang numbly along his body.
Castiel turned to him.
"I always knew you were young, and I deliberately ignored it. Treated you as an adult and an equal, probably because I believed the Lord brought us together as True Mate for a reason at this very moment. And yes, he did. He brought me to you to protect you, but... the rest obviously isn't working.
"What? What do you mean? What are you saying? Why are you bringing up my age? I'm not a child!" He shouted defiantly, but his defiance stemmed more from the panic that was taking hold of him. It looked more and more like Castiel was breaking up with him, only it wasn't meant to be.
"Saying you're not a child only proves you are," he responded calmly; Dean's stomach dropped. "Things are... complicated, and they're going to get more complicated, but it can be done. I claimed you as mine in front of everyone, but that can be taken back. I'll do it... in a few days or weeks. Then you'll take the Recruit tattoo and I'll put you in Pyotr's hands. He likes you, he'll keep a good eye on you, and I'm sure he'll find some simple, low-danger work for you to start with, like a delivery boy. It'll mean I'll have to stay away from you, but..." his unfocused gaze wandered somewhere above Dean's head, and at that moment a tired expression appeared on his face, betraying not only his age, but taking away from the fierce dominance that otherwise oozed from him. "I'll give you the chance to finish your degree... to grow up... And if things go well, I'll even give you the chance to make a name for yourself in the Brotherhood, and then... " He looked back at Dean. "Then we can try again."
"You... you're breaking up with me?" He asked rather incredulously.
"I suppose by your standards we were never a couple," the Alpha replied distantly, looking at his watch as if nothing had fucking happened. "I'll go. I've had another long night," he stated so calmly that Dean's stomach churned at his words, and then he simply started buttoning his shirt. "Before I take back my claim on you, my people will be watching you. Then... when I'm sure you're no longer in danger... we'll figure out what to do next. In the meantime, if you need anything, you can call me, but I'd rather you didn't. It's gonna be hard enough to stay away from you. Giving up what's mine. So if you have an ounce of responsibility in you, you won't complicate this whole thing unnecessarily," he added, as if that was all that needed to be said, and simply strode towards the door.
Dean just watched in a daze as he picked up his jacket and tie from the floor, which he shoved into his pants pocket, and then began to put his jacket on. He just walked away. Like nothing. That couldn't be true, could it? Surely it couldn't all end so easily, with just a few words from Castiel. No fucking way! Not as long as Dean had anything to say about it, and he damn well did!
In a burst of righteous anger, he stepped forward, fists clenched and the air around him instantly filled with the stench of his rage that even pinched his own nose.
"You're really just going to cowardly run away like that from the first real argument we have!" He asked, unabashedly or fearfully calling Castiel a coward, mostly because he knew it would stop the Alpha and it did.
He turned to face Dean.
"First? We've had so many arguments I can't even count them, and you haven't learned a lesson from any of them. You repeat your mistakes over and over again. I'm not going to keep doing this. And," he took two steps back towards Dean. "I'm not going to play the part of the rapist in this theater so you can be the victim. I've done things you can't imagine, and I'm sure I'm capable of many more, but I don't really enjoy... unwilling partners. And children."
He swallowed another statement about not being a kid anymore, because it would have the exact opposite effect. Just like Castiel said; kids, like Sammy, screamed the loudest about not being kids anymore.
"I want it to be real. That between us. And I..." he inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly, "I'd try to believe it's real, but how could I ever believe it if you give up and give me no proof?"
"What other proof do you want, besides the ones you've already got?"
"I don't know! Any! All of them!" He threw up his hands helplessly. "Just stay. I need you, Cas!" Flew out of him without realizing he'd even thought the words, let alone wanted to say them out loud. But it was out there and he couldn't take them back.
There was silence. The mixture of smells that had formed in the air caught in his throat. There was so much. It was all just the two of them. And it was heavy, constricting, and Castiel's long gaze penetrating into his soul certainly wasn't helping.
"Do you need me?" Alpha asked after long seconds of silence.
He licked his lips.
"Yes," he agreed, much more quietly than he had spoken before. "I need you, but not for what you do for us. I just need you," he said it slowly, carefully, because it was so hard to get it over his tongue. And because he knew it was important. What he hadn't expected was Castiel's reaction.
Moving forward with true Alpha speed, he grabbed Dean's cheeks and brought their lips together in a hard kiss under which Dean just gasped and backed up blindly until his ass met the edge of the table. He had nowhere else to go, so he pressed closer to the warm body, wrapping his arms around Castiel's back and digging his fingers into his hair. And he bit and sucked on his panting lips and explored his tongue. And every instinct in him was singing My Alpha at that moment. My mate. He was wanted, he was owned by his Alpha, and it was great.
"Moy!" Cas growled into the kiss. "Just my..." he repeated in English, releasing Dean's lips but not his face. He continued to clutch it, forehead resting against his. "You got under my skin. I've got you deep inside me like a knife. One day you'll be my undoing."
The words made him shiver in the best way, because they were spoken with a fierce, possessive growl, and because they gave him the impression that he owned Castiel. An Alpha who was fierce and murderous and everything, and this was exactly the Alpha he owned now. It owned him, didn't it?
"Does this mean you're not leaving?" He asked quietly.
"Never, Moy Din," he replied with another possessive growl, but then let out a long sigh and slowly pulled away so they could look comfortably into each other's eyes. Dean would have followed him, just so he wouldn't get too far away, but Castiel still held him and wouldn't let him. "But we should probably... change some things."
"What things?" He asked, a new tendril of panic creeping into his mind. This sounded too much like the Alpha wanted to go back to discussing the breakup.
"What happened today cannot happen again," he said firmly, whereupon his expression softened and his eyes filled with heat, the scent fading as he ran his thumb over Dean's bottom lip. "When I said I didn't enjoy forcing you into anything, I was telling the truth. And I don't want you trying to manipulate me with sex either. That's disrespectful to both of us."
"I'm not trying! That wasn't about..." he paused. Was it about that? He was willing to get fucked, practically speaking, in exchange for the power to keep Sammy here, safe. Maybe that could be called manipulation. "I thought I was doing what you wanted and that I had to do it because... you know?" He only hinted, hoping as he did so that he didn't have to reiterate what he'd believed up until now, and what he might continue to believe, except that he would try not to.
"I want you, of course I do. I want you, and I want to knotting you, but I want more than that. I want to marry you one day, mate with you and have a puppy or maybe two. And no," he said a little emphatically, "I won't deny that I expect sex, Dean, but as I said the first time we talked; I want us to get to know each other first. I can fuck whenever and with whomever I want, but with you it's... different. Something more. Can you understand that?"
"I'm trying, but... the idea of a wedding, mating, and kids makes me dizzy," he replied, and really, these things seemed so far out absurd, and as much as his Omega liked it, he couldn't quite come to terms with it.
"I don't plan to rush into any of this. I'll wait," he paused, a crease forming between his brows, whereupon he let go of Dean's cheeks and placed his hands where his neck met his shoulder, pulling away a little more. "And I'll wait for other things. I can be very patient."
Okay, he didn't have to say outright what he was talking about, and Dean felt embarrassed anyway.
"Look, I'm not some gentle virgin, okay?" He responded, perhaps a little sharply. "I like everything we do together and I'm certainly not going to stop, but maybe..." I guess there wasn't much to sugarcoat here, so he decided to say it fully, "you could keep your dick out of my ass. For now," he added, because regardless of all his experiences, the idea of his Alpha fucking and knotting him wasn't completely off the table in his mind.
"I can do that for you. And can you do something for me in return?"
He blinked a little in surprise at that answer and asked cautiously:
"What exactly?"
He couldn't help it, anyway, his thoughts once again turning to what the Alpha might want from him now. He'd been thinking like this the entire time he'd known Castiel, and he feared it wouldn't change right away.
"Don't call me Alpha," he surprised him with his request.
"You don't want me to call you Alpha?"
"No. Certainly not in private," he said in a way that wasn't outright command, but it was definitely a serious recommendation. "It's too impersonal."
It wasn't something he completely understood, after all, he'd said 'Alpha' to his father or maybe Bobby, to teachers at school too, and of course, in a suitably mocking tone, to any annoying Knot he came across. Alphas were simply called 'Alphaa' and although he knew it wasn't the custom in Russia, he didn't think Castiel really minded. And it was actually kind of funny that he was bringing it up after everything that had happened and what they'd said to each other... Maybe he didn't mind so much, he just wanted to take the conversation elsewhere, away from all this emotional shit. Dean definitely agreed with that, so he smiled
"Right. Whatever. I won't call you Alpha... so how about... Cassie?"
"You really are going to be the architect of my downfall one day," he muttered with a sigh, leaning in to lightly kiss Dean's lips. "Cas... Cas is quite all right. And Castiel in public," he added, leaning in for another kiss.
"Okay... okay, Cas," he agreed, hugging the Alpha tighter, curling into him, and this time it was he who kissed Cas.
Like this... like this, and in this moment, everything was great again. And whatever had been was forgotten, at least for the moment, in favor of the moment. And Dean didn't care what happened next. Not now.
Chapter Text
"Put the hood on," he ordered Sammy as they turned away from the school gate towards the car. The cold wind had been biting so hard since morning that the fan mounted on one of the windows overlooking his bedroom was spinning like crazy. That's why he'd almost forcibly stuffed his sweatshirt with a hood on Sam that morning.
"We're just going around the corner," Sam snapped.
Dean just rolled his eyes and reached up to put the hood on his head. The Alpha ducked away from his hand by leaning forward, letting Dean take a step, and then shoved him forcefully from behind. Stumbling forward with a curse on his lips, he balanced it out and turned straight to return Sam's shove.
"Bitch!" He growled through bared teeth and shoved at his chest.
"Jerk!" Sam snapped back, shoving him.
They briefly turned into a huddle of pounding palms, poking elbows, growling and teeth-appreciating, and would-be attempts to trip each other's legs before Dean managed to grab Sam from behind by the loose tie, stuff the damn hood on his head and pull the drawstring. Half of his overgrown hair stuck out strangely from his tightened ponytail. Sam blew it away sharply and rolled his eyes angrily at Dean.
He grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders.
"You're embarrassing me. And I look like an idiot," Sammy grumbled in displeasure, his scent a little pungent, but he didn't really try to get out of Dean's grasp. In fact, he leaned into him a little more.
Dean grinned again, amused but also pleased, and rubbed his chin against his head subtly, just a little. The little Alpha did look another disgruntled attempt at a growl, but he didn't resist this time either.
"You're in a good mood," he muttered instead.
Yeah, Dean was in a good mood. It had been three days since he and Cas had had that important, adult conversation and everything had been great since then. Just like before, and maybe even better, because now they were living in a really nice place, the threat of Alastair's name had started to fade, and Dean felt a lot safer. And Alpha had started watching the last two seasons of Game of Thrones, supposedly so he could finally watch House of the Dragon. When Cas had texted him about it, he must have read it twice just to be sure, because yeah, there were still things that seemed completely at odds with the impression that Alpha gave of a tough Russian mobster, but on second thought... when he thought about it; what was he really supposed to do in his free time other than watch movies and TV shows or read a book from his vast library? Normal life wasn't a movie. None of the Russian gangsters he'd met so far had talked about liking to sit in a dark corner of the room, a cigarette in one hand and a vodka in the other. Vadim was a big fan of Russian medical soap operas and Russian rap, Jacob talked about baseball every once in a while, Ginger watched hockey on his phone, and Baldy played mobile games, and no rough shooters, but cute colorful platformers and logic games like finding objects or connecting fruit (yeah, he tried to hide it, but still.).
The only thing that wasn't good were the thoughts on their Alpha. He should write or leave a message for his dad, they had to change their location and he had his phone in his hand a few times already, but he didn't know exactly what he should write. The apartment they were living in now was guaranteed to be unaffordable and he could hardly tell his dad that someone was paying for them and more importantly who and why. That's why he always put the phone away again, determined to think again and more and maybe even come up with something eventually. Maybe Castiel and Dad wouldn't want to kill each other after all. Yeah, Case and Sam's relationship hadn't been friendly, but it had worked out a lot better than Dean had expected.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm still in a good mood," he replied cheerfully.
They turned another corner and his stomach dropped. He recognized Alpha's Mercedes in the line of cars, in addition to another older Toyota they'd driven to school that morning. It wasn't right behind the Toyota because there wasn't space, it was closer to the school. And Dean didn't feel good about its presence. The last time the Alpha had appeared outside the school, it had gone badly. Fucking bad. He remembered everything all too well... the dead Alpha, Lisa, Castiel holding him pinned to the seat...
Sam sniffed loudly, audible even over the whistling wind, because he must have really sucked in the air. It was because of the wind and the cold too that the smells were muffled, but not indistinguishable. A crease formed between his brows, but he didn't say anything and Dean didn't say anything either, trying to put on a face like everything was fine. Also, why wouldn't it be. Nothing had happened to upset Alpha in any way. Lisa wasn't sitting at their table anymore, Becky only spoke to him sporadically because she said he broke Lisa's heart, and Kevin... what about Kevin? He was a quiet kid who had no hobbies besides studying. And no friends, and Dean only kept him around so he wouldn't get bullied by types like Forest. And Forest was okay too, because Lisa had returned to his desk and, according to some gossip, to him, and while he didn't fail to bait Dean with teeth, growls, and otherwise make it known that he had a pea-sized knot on his dick during breaks, he hadn't done anything worse. Actually, he was expecting some of his shit stuffed in a locker, but the knothead kept away.
There was literally nothing that could happen or that Dean could do that would upset his Alpha.
They arrived at the back door of the Mercedes, where the window was almost rolled down.
"Hello, Dean," the Alpha greeted him, and Dean was instantly relieved. Cas's voice was calm. "Sam..."
"Ivan..." returned Sam, so curt it was barely a greeting - hell, it was literally just their names. And how was Sam even able to say Cas' real name and look completely serious? - he stopped almost two steps from the car door and stood like he was nailed to the floor, his expression hard, staring directly at Castiel, of course. This was not good, he should have been more polite or Alpha might... no, he tried to stop here. His musings were going in the wrong direction again. To the considerations he had promised Cas he wouldn't have.
So he turned his back on Sam and leaned against the roof of the car so he could lean against the window.
"Hi... um... Castiel," he hesitated a little at the end as Castiel's secondary name and then the diminutive of his name came to his lips again, but in the end he was proud of himself for addressing him correctly. After all, Baldy was within earshot. And he added a smile, because Case was glad to see it.
"I want you to walk me somewhere today. Get in," he went straight to the point as always, whereupon his gaze wandered behind Dean's back. "My men will take your brother."
"Right. I'll just say goodbye." He pointed a thumb behind him.
Cas didn't say anything, so he turned to Sam.
"Okay, bro, Castiel and I have some plans. His guys are going to give you a ride home. There should still be chino in the fridge from yesterday, so heat it up. And don't forget your homework. Also, go to bed on time, because I don't know..."
"I can take care of myself. Don't treat me like a child," Sam interrupted grumpily, and this time it was he who cast a stern look behind Dean's back. "And come back soon. Bye," he concluded, and without waiting for Dean to return the greeting, he made his way to the Toyota, of course having to pull the hood off his head on the way.
He frowned at his retreating back and disheveled head, but said nothing, just waited for Sam to get in and then circled around Alpha's Mercedes so she could get in too. Sitting on the leather seats again was a bit... it made his stomach clench, but the air was permeated with the smell of fresh cherry pie with honey and almond crumble and the scent of Castiel's brand of cigarettes. There was no indication that the Alpha was in anything but the best of moods, and he grunted contentedly as he leaned in to cup Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger and kiss him. He wrapped his arms around his back and his own chest tightened a little as the growl of his Omega grated to the surface, but he still wasn't quite able to let it out. What he did manage to do, however, was bury his nose in Castiel's neck and wander his hand over his sagging stomach down to his belt buckle. Such an unnecessary extra obstacle... a silly piece of metal and leather that he was thankfully able to unfasten with one hand.
He had the end of the belt out of the loop of his pants and was just about to start pulling it out of the buckle when Cas held his hand and pulled away.
"Not now. Later," he retorted to Dean's certain disappointment and kissed his knuckles.
Dean frowned a little.
"Don't tell me you're seriously taking me on a meeting or something...?" He asked a little incredulously. Where would the Alpha want to take him and more importantly why? What would he do at any mafia meeting? He had nothing to do with Alpha's business, he just knew a few bits and pieces and even those were... well, he knew a bit about Castiel, he already knew at least two of his Lieutenants and had a basic idea of what his business was, but it was still nothing. He wasn't even remotely a member of the Bratva.
Castiel cocked his head to the side.
"Of course I did. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Right. That was his damn literalness.
"Yeah, well... yeah. I just thought it was, you know... kind of a cover so we could go to you and, you know...?" He gave a seductive smile and arched a flirtatious eyebrow.
"And who should I hide from that I want to spend the night with you? Certainly not from my men. I'd brag about it to them. They'd all be jealous that I have someone as beautiful as you in my bed, moy Din," the Alpha replied, which as always caused Dean a rush of embarrassment under which his ears turned red, much to his continued displeasure.
"You're in a good mood today," he remarked, instead of further protesting these silly flatteries that weren't even true.
"Yes, I am. I got some good news that we're going to celebrate," he announced with a soft grunt of satisfaction, but then he squinted a little and met Dean's gaze with a slight arch of his brow. "But you'll have to change for the occasion. I brought you some things," he added, pulling away.
"Change?" He repeated. "Why? What's wrong with my clothes?"
"It doesn't fit the occasion we're about to celebrate, nor does it fit my Omega," he explained, leaning over to the garment bag that hung on the wall separating the back of the car from the front.
It wasn't that Dean hadn't noticed the bag before, it was impossible to miss, but he really didn't think the contents were of any relevance to him. Suddenly he felt completely strangled by the ghostly tie. It wasn't very often that he had to be in a suit and tie, but yeah, it had happened a few times in his life. He'd been through so many schools that there was almost always some sort of prom or similar school event during his stay. Dad didn't usually make him participate, but sometimes... when he was in a nostalgic mood... he wanted Dean to enjoy a 'normal childhood', and sweating in a borrowed cheap suit was probably part of that normal childhood.
And apparently it was also part of Castiel's role as the dutiful and orderly Omega, which... well, it probably shouldn't have surprised him that much. The Alpha didn't really look it, and he'd never acted like a snob or anything, but Dean remembered all the pictures Sam had found. Castiel had been in them in the company of the city's politicians, diplomats, ladies in expensive dresses, the top brass of the police force, and a bunch of other people whose names were in bold print, so those people meant something, but Dean just had no idea who they were.
"Start undressing," the Alpha instructed him as he shot him a quick glance from unzipping the bag.
He gave an irritated grunt in response, but obediently removed the bag, tossing it to the ground and pulling off his jacket. Then he set about unbuttoning his shirt. He had it buttoned all the way up like an idiot, except for the very last button, because none of his shirts could cover Castiel's mark. Other times he wouldn't have minded, he'd come to school with a hickey a few times, but this mark was bigger and more colorful because it had been deliberately placed on his scent gland in the exact spots usually used for mating bites. Anyone who saw the mark would know that an Alpha had claimed him. As he looked at himself in the mirror that first morning an alarm went off in his head reminding him that he was technically a minor and Castiel could get in trouble for this. So he'd better hide the sign since he didn't think it was smart to show it at school. It might raise questions and stuff.
Cas leaned back in his seat just as Dean was putting the flannel down beside him, holding a dark purple shirt made of a fine material. He had a similar one in his closet, or maybe it was this one.
"I'm glad I brought a shirt, too," Cas pointed out with a raised eyebrow, his gaze fixed on Dean's chest.
He glanced at the picture on the cover of The Dark Side of the Moon and had to admit that yeah, this probably didn't fit the bill for some fine establishment. Unless...
"Tony Stark would approve," he didn't refuse to remark, pulling his shirt over his head.
A soft stream of musky Alpha arousal tickled his nose, and when he glanced at Case, he caught him sliding his eyes down his body quizzically. He didn't resist a pleased smile and ran his fingers just above the waistband of the pants that were about to come down, the first hint of his own arousal gripping his lower abdomen in a pleasurable squeeze.
"You like to watch?"
"Very much," Alpha sighed, pulling a simple black t-shirt from under his shirt and handing it to Dean. "Too bad you have to wear this."
Confused, in part because Castiel had interrupted his attempt at seduction so, he took the shirt from him. Other than the fact that it didn't have a logo on it and looked like new, it was no different from his own. It also smelled a little of Alpha, so it must have been his own. Not that Dean minded, in fact quite the opposite, he was quite willing to put it on. And then he took and put on the shirt too, which Cas handed to him the very next moment. It was as soft to the touch as all of Alpha's shirts and also smelled of a hint of roasted cherries and bitter almonds. He inhaled the pleasant combination of their scents several times and was about to reach for the buttons, but Alpha restrained his hands.
"Leave it unbuttoned," he said, straightening his collar, a satisfied smile on his lips and his eyes twinkling quizzically. "You look very well. Just as I thought. The color suits you. Too bad I can't give you more things like that...spoil you a little."
Truth was, Dean didn't care for this pretty stuff all that much. Sure, it was nice to live in a nice apartment, to always have the best things to eat, to have a nice phone and his own laptop, but he could do without those things. And he wasn't with Cas for that. He wasn't even with him because he had to, or rather, was even now trying hard to convince himself that it wasn't just about that. That there was something more between them. It wasn't easy. At this particular moment, it was a little harder than it had been even this morning, for example. He suddenly had this weird feeling like Cas was buying him that shirt, even though it was his own shirt, so nothing specifically bought for Dean.
He lowered his head and his gaze and ran the fine burgundy fabric between his fingers.
The Alpha rested his thumb and forefinger under his chin, forcing him to lift his head and look into his eyes before asking:
"Everything okay, Dean?"
Cas must have picked up a slight change in scent or something, either way Dean didn't want him to fumble, so he smiled brightly.
"Sure," he said cheerfully. "I was just wondering why you can't spoil your Omega, Alpha...?" He asked in a wannabe offended tone, but he made sure to make it clear that he meant it as a tease and hyperbole.
The expression that lingered on Cas's face for a moment was thoughtful and a little incredulous, but in the end, I think he decided to go along with the teasing, moving his hand to Dean's neck and running his thumb over his jaw.
"Because it would draw too much attention if you suddenly started showing up in designer clothes, with expensive electronics, in a car, and generally being able to afford things that others can't. One day, though, you'll get all that. You just have to be patient."
He didn't like how seriously Cas spoke. Maybe he didn't let it be known enough that he meant it as a joke.
"Look, what I said... I didn't mean it, okay?" He tried to set the record straight, but it was such a stupid thing to say. "I don't want anything from you." That sounded rude, damn it. "I mean, I don't need anything. Even if you didn't have anything, I'd still-" I'd still be with you, he finished mentally, because he couldn't say it out loud, and he just hoped the Alpha would understand.
"I know. I'm not trying to buy you. I've already made that clear," it wasn't a question or an assurance, it was more of a command, saying that Dean would simply understand that nothing Castiel gave him was to win his affection. "But everything you see around you is simply my life. And you will share that life with me one day. Get used to it."
Something like that was easier said than done, and the very idea of sharing his whole life with Castiel was something terribly abstract, too. He knew it was coming, sure, and he understood it, but damn... even the English test scheduled for Friday seemed like something terribly far away. And when it came to Case, the most pressing issue for him wasn't their future together, but the mark on his shoulder that had to be seen now.
"Yeah, well... yeah. I'll try to think of it that way," he agreed vaguely, then raised his hand to his throat. "Shouldn't I cover this up more?" He asked, brushing his shirt over his shoulder. "I don't know where we're going, but if it's not the back room at the Doll, someone might notice and that would cause problems. You know, because of my age and all. I had it covered all the time in school, you don't have to worry about that..." he assured him quickly. "And if anyone asks about you, I'd say I don't know you, but if they see us together and me with this..."
"It would be stupid and suspicious to deny that you know me," Cas surprised him.
"Should I tell them we're sleeping together? Then they'd arrest you and send me to juvie for prostitution," he snapped. That was kind of the worst scenario he'd ever thought of.
"I don't own the apartment you live in, but it wouldn't be that hard to trace the trail from it to me. And you have my account card. The police would be able to connect us, and the more you deny our connection, the more suspicious it would get."
"So what should I say?"
"As much truth as possible. For a lie that is almost true is the easiest to maintain," he uttered almost the same lesson his father had repeated to him more than once. "Admit that we know each other and that we are friends. And also that we are True Mates. That easily explains why I gave you everything I gave you and wanted nothing in return."
He knew from his own experience that it wasn't hard to get Alphas to give him something. All he had to do was smell nice, roll his eyes and act properly submissive, and then of course disappear before the Alpha got around to demanding anything in return. And that there would be enough Knotheads who would think that even fifty cents donated at the cash counter was enough to make Omega bend over for them. And yeah, he'd also heard those rumors about True Mates whispering that Alpha would do literally anything for his Omega Mate. He didn't believe any of it, and he doubted the police would, regardless...
"And how should I explain this?" He pulled off his shirt to show Alpha's big red mark.
The Alpha looked at his mark with his eyes squinted quizzically and ran the back of his index finger over it, a soft growl vibrating through his chest. And his scent was filled not only with arousal, but with possessiveness and deep pleasure. Dean definitely had an obsessive Alpha here, and he loved the sight of his own marks adorning his Omega's neck. He wondered what Castiel's face would look like if it wasn't just a large, dark purple bruise that made Dean's scent glands a little swollen, but an actual bite.
"I've been careful with my teeth. They have no way of knowing who made that mark on you," the Alpha replied, sounding a little disappointed.
It was true. Cas had avoided using his teeth perfectly. He remembered how the surface of the teeth pressed against his skin, instead of their edges. After all, even if he hadn't bitten him directly, his golden fang was so big and sharp that it would probably have pierced the skin. The Alpha knew this, and knowing it made Dean wonder how many times he'd done something like this. How many times had he left a mark on someone, being careful not to identify it if the police found it. The thought made his jealousy twist in his stomach like some kind of octopus, and it was also a reminder of how surreal their relationship had been. Because Alpha knew what to do, how to respond, how to hide his tracks... No, stop Winchester! Don't think like that. Of course he knows how to hide any clues when it's a job he's been doing for longer than you've been alive. That doesn't mean there were more young men like you.
"Don't worry about it, Dean," he said, since he must have caught the change in scent again. "Whatever happens, I can fix it. You just have to keep insisting on the same version. We met at the store, we're friends, you asked me for a place to live with your brother, and nothing... inappropriate ever happened."
"And if they don't believe me?"
"It doesn't matter what the police believe. All that matters is what they can prove," he replied unperturbed. The prospect of a police prosecution clearly didn't worry him, and the calm smell of roasted cherries with sweet honey was so comforting that Dean almost believed it. Almost... once he started worrying, he probably wouldn't stop.
"Okay, okay. I'll do that, I just hope it's never needed."
The Alpha put his arm around his back and pulled him against his shoulder. He cooperated. He shifted a little on the seat, his hip pressed against Alpha's, thigh to thigh and knee to knee, and rested the back of his head against his shoulder. It was interesting that in this position, it was equally noticeable that Alpha was a little taller. He had to lift his chin to look at his face.
"You only need to be careful for three months. After that, it won't matter. Now get comfortable. It's going to be a long drive in this traffic," he urged as his hand wandered to the edge of Dean's shirt, where of course he wasn't looking for anything like his chest or anything. He fished out the cross and reverently aligned it on Dean's chest.
When Cas let go of the cross, he unconsciously smoothed it out as well, running his fingers over its smooth warm surface. It was strange how easily he'd gotten used to it. He literally never took it off, not even when he went to the shower or gym class, even when he should have left it with the other jewelry in his locker.
"Where are we going, anyway?" He asked.
"To one of our places," came the simple and unsatisfying answer, and before Dean could ask which one, Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his phones. One that was completely in Russian, so even when he opened the conversation and began tapping on the keyboard with just his thumb in a surprisingly deft manner, Dean still had no idea what he was typing.
He looked for a moment at the Russian letters appearing and the lively conversation Castiel was having, but he quickly tired of it and looked outside. They were standing in a column, as it were. This town consisted mostly of convoys of cars and masses of people, and a few buildings to boot. And like all big cities, the glass and concrete buildings around it were monotonous.
Dean sighed.
This was really going to be a long trip.
°°0°°
In a pretty, script font, rendered in green and red neon, 'Garden' was written above the plain-looking, glazed and darkened door. Judging by that, it might as well have been an ordinary bar, and while the street the Garden was on was full of bars and clubs, they weren't the lowest price tags Dean was used to.
"Are you taking me to a strip show?" He asked with an amused smirk as he joined Castiel walking towards the door.
"Closed tonight," he replied, as if that explained everything.
The door opened before they reached it, and a man, definitely a Beta who fit right in with the Alpha's group of men, but Dean didn't know, removed the chain that prevented entry and made it clear that it was closed. And stepped out of the way so they could pass.
Inside, it looked exactly as Dean had imagined, but also different. There were all the essentials, like podiums, poles, mirrors, thick carpet, comfy seats that were hard to get up from and boxes designed for private dancing, and of course there was a long bar full of bottles. And it was all in tones of red and green. But at the same time, it looked kind of... ordinary. I guess it was the fact that the whole place was empty, there weren't even any strippers, and the fact that it was bright and quiet everywhere. The balladic instrumental did little more than provide a subtle backdrop to a place Dean imagined should be brimming with life, music, voices and smells. In fact, the smells were absent too. Sure, he could smell that distant mix of all the subgender smells with a hint of arousal and sex, but the air conditioning was doing a great job and the smell of ozone almost covered up those aroused scents.
This was definitely not what he thought his first visit to a strip club would be like.
Without further ado, Alpha headed straight for the bar and Dean followed.
"Benny," he greeted the bartender with a nod.
He was a tall guy, maybe a little taller than Castiel, muscular, with brown hair and beard, and blue eyes. When Dean got close enough to sniff the air he was surprised to find that he was Beta. He definitely had not only the constitution of an Alpha, but a confident but calm demeanor, and he looked Cas in the eye with respect, but without the exaggerated awe he'd seen in Alpha mens. That was why something told him that this Benny wasn't going to be one of Alpha's men, but at the same time... A bit of tattoo of a thorn-filled rose stem was visible under the edge of the bartender's shirt sleeve. A prison tattoo that wasn't as common as barbed wire, but it meant the same thing. This Benny was an ex-convict, but he wasn't part of the Bratva.
"Alpha Novak. Good to see you here after a long time. Would you like your usual?" Benny asked in a deep, steady voice.
"Yes. And for my Dean, anything he asks for," Cas ordered before turning to Dean. " Order whatever you want," he urged, ruffling the hair on the back of his neck and kissing him lightly on the temple on his way to the bathroom.
He sent him off with a quick glance before looking back to the bartender and more importantly behind the bar, where in addition to the bottles on display, there was also a mirror. He got a good look at the whole thing and had to admit that Alpha was right. The shirt really went well and the t-shirt, which was a little smaller than what he usually wore, made his muscles stand out. And since Cas hadn't made him wear dress pants or even a jacket, he still kept his rugged style a bit like his movie namesake, just... Yeah, the sleeves weren't exactly right. They looked a little too sedentary and he didn't feel quite himself in them. So he nicely carefully rolled up both sleeves as many times as he could, finally sliding the covered edges to just below his elbow. Much better. He felt more comfortable and his wristbands were visible. Perfect.
He tore his gaze away only to find the bartender watching him with an unmoving face. He returned the smile, to which Benny only responded by nodding his head towards the bar in silent invitation.
It was an offer he didn't refuse.
"Hey... Benny, right?" He asked, pulling up a stool; the bartender just nodded slightly. "All right. Nice to meet you and I'd like a..."
He didn't finish, because the bartender pulled a bottle of beer from behind the bar, opened it in one motion, and placed it in front of Dean.
"Hey! Good guess!" He grabbed his beer and immediately took a sip. Then he looked at the label. The brand didn't mean anything to him, but it tasted really good. Like some of the craft beer they sold at the various festivals in small towns. It was probably something like that, and it was probably pretty damn expensive.
"A good bartender knows what the customer is ordering before he knows," this Benny replied, and set about making what he recognized at first glance as a gin and tonic. Moments later, the glass had wandered to the bar stool next to Dean, where it began to keep company with a small green glass ashtray. Beta must have put it there only moments before.
His eyes slid from the ashtray to the glass in which two slices of lime floated merrily, one perched on the rim, and garnished with a sprig of rosemary. Honestly, it wasn't the drink he'd expected at Case's. He thought he liked beer, too. Beer and then spirits with at least fifty percent alcohol. The gin and tonic looked... a little thin and effeminate by Alpha's standards.
"So this," he nodded to his glass and then took a sip of his beer, "is... Alpha Novak's favorite drink?"
"He's always having it here," the bartender replied, which wasn't exactly an answer to Dean's question.
"And does he come here often?"
"He used to come regularly at least once a week to the back lounge, but he hasn't been here in a few weeks. I can see why."
There was nothing surprising about Castiel coming here. That was to be expected. But the fact that he'd stopped coming when he'd met Dean was on the one hand satisfying, but also hard to believe. I mean, he didn't think Benny had lied to him because there was no reason to, it was just... It was just that stupid feeling of insecurity or whatever the hell.
Benny glanced over his shoulder, nodded slightly, and then, without looking at Dean again, made his way to the far side of the bar. At that moment a warm, slightly damp hand landed on Dean's back,and with it came not only Castiel's cherry scent, but also the smell of disinfectant and soap. He leaned into the touch a little, tilted his head, and watched Alpha slip onto the stool next to him. As Cas sat down facing him, he did the same, resting his forearm on the bar, his fingers wrapped around the bottle's neck and letting the bottle hang down.
"Did you get what you wanted?" Cas asked as he sipped, his gaze flickering briefly to Dean's rolled up sleeves as he did so, but he said nothing.
"'Sure. Great beer." He held up the bottle to show him, and took a sip right back. "And we had a chat with Benny. He's cool and told me a lot of things about you."
"Really?" Cas asked incredulously, his head tilted a little to the side and his drink glass raised in the air as he froze in the middle of setting it on the table.
"He said you like to drink gin and tonics and that you haven't been here in a while."
" Oh... yes," Alpha agreed, setting the glass down. "There wasn't time or reason to come here."
"Wasn't?" He asked, looking up at Castiel through his lashes, and yeah, he sounded a little whiny, like a needy Omega who wanted reassurance that he was the only one. Fucking work.
"No," Castiel replied calmly, the corners curling up a little in a smile, and he slid his palm down Dean's hand, resting on the counter, up to the edge of his rolled-up sleeve and dipped his thumb underneath. "I've discovered there's only one man whose naked body I want to see."
God! That sounded so ridiculous, and it wasn't even poetic, but he could still feel his ears burning while his Omega smoldered with pride and growled with satisfaction that his Alpha wanted him above all others. He averted his gaze and lifted the bottle to his mouth carefully so it wouldn't look like he was about to spill out of Cas's touch. Thankfully, the Alpha understood and withdrew his hand just long enough for Dean to take a sip before returning it to where it was and his thumb began to gently rub his forearm.
"So... who are we meeting here?" He asked, as he couldn't bear to stay quiet, though it looked like the Alpha would have been content to remain silent.
"With one of my business partners."
"And what kind of business partner is that? The one you get your picture taken with for the lifestyle section of the New York Times or the one you meet in an abandoned port warehouse?"
Amusement flashed in Alpha's eyes.
"Since when are those two things mutually exclusive?" He asked, corners twitching in an amused smile; Dean just raised an eyebrow. "It's more the second type."
"And should I know anything about him or the meeting? Like... I don't know... where are the guns hidden?" He asked half-jokingly.
The Alpha gave him an indulgently amused look, reached into his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes, thumbed it open, tapped it, and then with his lips pulled out one of the cigarettes, which popped out.
"This isn't a movie, Dean. We're not going to point them at each other under the table," he replied. The pack wandered back into his pants and was replaced by a lighter in Castiel's hand. He clicked it, lit it, and let the smoke out between words: "We're going to celebrate our joint success. Have fun."
"Have fun? Here?" He slipped out in a skeptical tone before he could stop himself and actually... why should he hide the fact that it didn't look like much of a party. "I mean... I don't know who we're supposed to meet here, but I'd say this is going to be a bit of a letdown for him." He waved his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. "A strip club without strippers... that's like a burger without beef. It might have been more fun at Blue Sky. At least they've got pretty waitresses."
"Really? I never thought strip clubs without strippers could be boring. Good thing you cleared that up for me," Alpha replied with a decidedly sarcastic tone. "I don't take those kind of business partners to Blue Sky. I don't want them that close to my lair. The Garden is perfect for meetings like this because it's my territory and my rules, but it's far enough away from my apartment and there are two back exits. And as for entertainment for this afternoon and evening... Don't worry, you won't be bored. I can assure you of that."
Did that mean...? Dean's face instantly lit up with an enthusiastic smile. He was going to see a real strip show tonight and that was just... wow! That was awesome! As far back as his willing right hand could remember, he wanted to see something like that. Problem was, sneaking into a strip club on a fake ID was a lot harder than a regular bar, and there used to be a cover charge. And if not the entrance, at least the show itself. The closest he came to stripping was when he was kicked out of a roadside bar by a bouncer (actually an off-duty local sheriff), precisely because he didn't want to pay for a gig when he was already in the bar, and in truth he wouldn't have anything to pay with.
Yeah, so it was just terribly exciting to finally see a show... with his Alpha by his side. Okay, so that wasn't so great. Any joy at the thought of strippers passed immediately and was replaced by embarrassment, a sense of wrongness and, frankly, a little fear. Not for himself, but he already knew what Alpha Castiel was capable of when he was jealous and he didn't like the idea of anyone dying again tonight because of it.
Castiel's nostrils flared and he found himself leaning forward a little as he sniffed the air around Dean.
"Hmm... interesting," Cas hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the ash away. "You went from excitement to disappointment in five seconds. I've seen guests who saw a show for the first time be a little disappointed, but they've never been disappointed so quickly."
"I'm not disappointed. I've always wanted to see a strip show it's just..." he paused because, holy shit, this was stupid. After all, he couldn't talk about strangers' naked women in front of his… um, boyfriend. Partner? And the bad feeling he had about that wasn't exactly related to the fact that he didn't want to leave another dead body behind. He just wondered if looking at strippers was like cheating. And he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to cheat Castiel. He was loyal to him.
The Alpha stared at him from under slightly squinted eyes, his hand with the cigarette raised in front of his face, and the gentle stroking of Dean's wrist ceased. But it didn't seem to be because Castiel was angry. His scent was calm, a steady blend of sweet roasted cherries and bitter almonds.
"Striptease is like porn," the Alpha said in an insider's voice; Dean just blinked in surprise. "I don't consider either to be cheating.I don't mind if you watch and enjoy it... even if I don't enjoy the show much,” he added with a slight smirk at the corner of his lips.
He said it with confidence, but Dean still had that feeling of wrongness. Especially considering Cas had told him that he wasn't interested in other naked guys anymore. And it was even worse when he realized he might have taken it more in stride if Castiel hadn't been there, or ideally, if he hadn't known about it at all.
"I don't know... it's... looking at other people's naked... women in your presence. It doesn't seem quite... You know... Fair and all" he tried to express how he felt.
"I don't mind. If I did, I wouldn't take you with me. Or I wouldn't have arranged a show for my guest," the Alpha replied with a slight impatience that showed in the tension around the corners of his eyes, but was quickly replaced as his expression softened again and he moved his hand to Dean's cheek. "Take it easy. I really don't mind. Enjoy it. Have fun. I'll enjoy it later tonight when I take you to my place," he added, leaning closer. Dean could catch a whiff of musky excitement and see the sparkle in his blue eyes at the same time. "But..." he let the sound trail off to emphasize what followed: "you have to be polite, okay?" He said emphatically, cupping Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger, giving him a little lift and also preventing him from turning away if he happened to want to. "That means you'll sit, watch the show, drink and eat, and preferably not talk much. If I tell you to do something, you will do it without grumbling or asking questions, and you will be polite and nice to my guest. Do you understand what I want you to do?"
Dean frowned a little and pulled out of his grasp.
"I can be polite when I want to be, you know?" He replied defensively. He already knew where his place was and he knew how to play the obedient, submissive Omega. Plus, his dad had raised him to know how to behave. All the things like saying hello, asking, thanking, holding the door when someone came out of the store behind you, and helping the old and the puppies. They didn't grow up in a house in the suburbs of a small town that was originally meant to be their shared home, but their Alpha didn't raise them in a barn either.
"I don't know. He hasn't shown much of that yet," the Alpha remarked coolly, choking on his cigarette.
This time Dean's mouth was stuffed with a slightly peppier answer, like something to the effect that he'd always had good reasons to act the way he did, but he swallowed it to show he could be good.
"This time you'll see that I can be exactly the perfect Omega you need to keep you company in public," he declared with all seriousness, raising his head to show his determination. And there was certainly some defiance in it, after all, the way he shut down could perhaps be considered a pose.
Castiel didn't take it that way though, instead he just shot Dean an unreadable look and reached into his pocket for his phone.
"You'll have a chance to show it off in a few minutes. Our guests are already here," he said after checking the messages on his phone, then looked up again. "I really need tonight to go well. And I don't want to regret bringing you here. If tonight fails... it won't be good for my plans, and it won't be good for you. You should try harder."
"I will. I swear, Alpha." The 'Alpha' address slipped out and yeah, he noted the slight displeasure that crossed Castiel's face, but there was no taking it back. Alpha got up from the bar stool and with a quick, half-voiced, "I'm counting on you," strode towards the door.
He took three long strides, stopped, and stood still. Almost at the same moment, the door opened and... Dean's throat tightened until he felt as if he had no air, his eyes widened and his inner Omega surged in an immediate need to bite, scratch and protect. Every muscle in Dean's body tensed as he instinctively kicked into his training. And his hand involuntarily dropped to the pocket where he kept the knife, and then a short distance away, where his father had taught him to carry his gun holster.
Castiel took another step, held out his hand, and greeted the newcomer in a tone that was unreasonably friendly for him.
"Good to see you again, Alastair."
Chapter Text
He watched numbly as the Alpha... his Alpha... shook hands with Alastair as if they were, if not friends, at least good acquaintances. Definitely as if Castiel had forgiven the son of a bitch for beating Dean up and had other things he planned to do to him... things that in truth the Alpha didn't know about, but that didn't change the situation or the feelings that were boiling up inside him. He felt betrayed and his Omega was cowering somewhere deep in the corner of his mind, whimpering softly and feeling abandoned. His Alpha wouldn't protect him, he didn't care about Dean's safety, he wouldn't care about their pups. He didn't want Dean anymore...
No! No, that was bullshit! This was about something else. It had to be. Or at least Dean hoped there was more to it than met the eye. He had to start thinking rationally and not give in to his emotions or the crying Omega. He had to act mature.
What was Castiel saying? Oh, right... he was talking about how he couldn't just kill Alastair because that would mean war, but he was also promising that he would kill him sooner or later after all. He pledged to do it for Dean. And even if he wasn't doing it all for Dean as a human, he was doing it as an Alpha whose Omega had been touched, and that was a strong motivation for Alphas.
So, looking at the whole situation rationally, this had to be some kind of Castiel plan. Maybe he intended to lure Alastair in and then attack. Yeah, that seemed likely, but still; why the fuck was he bringing Dean here? And why hadn't he told him about the whole plan beforehand? Didn't the Alpha trust him? No, if he didn't trust him, he wouldn't have brought him here in the first place. Maybe he just thought Dean would refuse to come if he told him about Alastair beforehand, or maybe he just didn't want to scare him unnecessarily. Like sure, he'd be scared if he had to meet the bastard, but he'd be a lot more furious. And that could be the problem. Dean had to admit to himself that he hadn't been acting much like a 'proper Omega' so far, and a proper Omega was exactly what Castiel needed by his side right now. As he'd put it the other day in the diner; my men will be forgiving, but they're not the only players in this game. Alastar was the player the Alpha had been talking about back then, and whatever was at stake here, they had to play this game right. Dean understood. It didn't mean he was angry at Castiel or that he'd stopped hating Alastair or fearing him, but he understood what he had to do. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd fake something and, he knew for certain, it wouldn't be the last.
"Omega," the Alpha addressed him in a way that sounded almost indifferent, not even turning to him. "Come welcome our guests."
Clutching the neck of the bottle so hard he felt every joint ache, he suppressed the creeping fear that had settled behind his stomach, put on a calm face, and slid off the bar stool.
The alpha turned a little to face him, after all, and accompanied him with a look until Dean was at his side. Then he placed his hand high on the small of his back, sliding it down a little further and finally digging his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. His grip was only light, but still Dean felt a little comforted by the weight of his warm, large hand and the scent of the cherries, which, though no longer the honeyed sweetness of a moment ago and the bitter almonds were impossible to miss, was still peaceful.
"Omega, this is Alastair. My future permanent business partner, I hope," Castiel introduced him so smoothly, without the slightest change in his scent, that it took Dean a lot of strength not to turn and look into the Alpha's face to see if he was telling the truth or a lie. It had to be a lie. Castiel couldn't change his mind that badly, but at the same time... Castiel's terse candor bordering on gross rudeness was something he considered a certainty in his life. His Alpha didn't lie and he couldn't fake it, but now it seemed he was a far better liar than Dean had ever imagined. It shouldn't have been the surprise it was, after all, being a criminal meant lying and cheating. It was only logical that Castiel lied sometimes too. Probably many times. And he was a fool to think otherwise, even for a second. But it made him wonder if the Alpha had ever lied to him too, and when had that been? But those were questions that he surely wouldn't get answers to now, and he shouldn't even think about them, lest he fuck up the whole evening again.
He had to stay calm.
He had to stay obedient and submissive.
He had to control himself.
Breathe in and out, Winchester. Breathe in and out, relax your shoulders and your back. Make yourself smaller and more vulnerable than you are. Keep your eyes down and definitely don't look directly into Alpha's face. You're a nice and handsome Omega.
"We already know each other, don't we... Omega?" said Alastair in that liquid, smarmy voice of his and in a way that made it clear to Dean that he didn't mean to call him 'omega' but 'pet' as he had done the first time they met. And he fixed Dean with dead eyes devoid of any emotion, except perhaps amusement and something that made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. And he was definitely the bad kind, not the good kind he sometimes got from Castiel.
"Yes, sir. How are you?" He replied politely, and although he didn't stop to look into Alastair's eyes - he just wouldn't have given him that kind of pleasure, and he honestly didn't think Castiel would want him to be downright humiliated in front of him - he let his chin drop almost to his chest, so his back was a little hunched, he was looking shyly into Beta's face from under his eyelashes.
Apparently that wasn't enough of a sign of submission, because one corner of Alastair's lips twitched in displeasure, and for the first time Dean even smelled some of the scent that must have made its way through the blockers he was wearing. It smelled like something dead. Even in the face of such a disgusting smell he wasn't going to bow down any further and decided not to worry, just wrinkling his nose a little and turning his head a little towards his Alpha to take in his cherry scent.
"Excellent, Omega. Really excellent!" Beta replied, showing his teeth in a smile that was more of a baring of fangs if he had any. He stared at Dean for a moment longer before turning his gaze to Castiel and motioning with his hand behind him. "I don't suppose I need to introduce Meg to you anymore...?" Alastair half-asked, nodding to the brunette who stood about two steps behind him. His movement gave Dean a much better view of her than he had before
Of course, he'd already noticed her when he'd been sitting at the bar, but he was much more focused on Alastair than he was on her, because at first glance she seemed harmless. Appearances could be deceiving, but even now, at least, she didn't seem to be carrying weapons or have the power to defeat Dean let alone Castiel.
She was a brunette slightly shorter than Dean with a really pretty face, if she didn't have a crooked smile on it. She had full hips that were accentuated by her black skinny jeans and a pair of awesome breasts barely covered by a triangle of red sequin fabric that was only held on by a couple of strings, so you could see a lot of milky skin. It was quite hard not to stare at her, even with Alastair here.
The Beta brunette gave Dean a disdainful smirk before stepping to Alastair's side and giving Castiel a quizzical look that Dean didn't like one bit. A small, low growl did cross his lips as Meg squinted and tossed her head, stirring her scent around her. It was only a faint Beta scent, but it was easy to pick out; wet pine needles and a hint of freshly bitten apple. It would have been nice, too, and he might have actually turned to her for such a scent, but he didn't like the fact that she was presenting it to his Alpha, or that Castiel definitely picked it up as his nostrils flared. He also caught Dean's growl, and oddly enough, there was no disapproval or displeasure in his scent, in fact he moved his arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled him close in a possessive but kind gesture.
He looked up to him, but the Alpha was paying attention to the Beta female.
"It's nice to finally see you... up close," she murmured.
Dean felt like baring his teeth, but didn't.
Castiel squinted, and the way he cocked his head to the side wasn't questioning. He knew that one all too well. No, he tilted it to his shoulder and turned it a little, his nose closer to Dean's, and looked at the Beta female obliquely. The whole thing looked like he wanted to be as far away from her as possible, but to completely move away would be rude.
A small, rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and as he stared intently at this Meg, he wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist. He felt the alpha tense briefly before relaxing into the touch, but he only half noticed because he was enjoying the look on this Meg's face. She was grinning, as if certain of her victory in the battle for Castiel, but he could still see that she noticed the possessive gesture and the way Dean clung to the Alpha.
"Yes, it is," Cas replied. "We might even get to know each other better today."
And maybe I'll rip your throat out brown-haired slut, he thought, but kept his equally polite expression submissive.
"I'd like that..."
"Don't waste your talents, my dear," Alastair interjected, with an almost exaggerated air of participation directed at Meg. "You don't have what Castiel here would appreciate in a woman, if he appreciates anything in a woman at all." He said rudely, or at least Dean wouldn't say anything like that to anyone. "Shall we start with a toast to our little victory together?" He turned to Castiel, but towards the end of his sentence, for who knows why, he cast a quick glance at Dean.
"Good idea," the Alpha agreed, gesturing with his hand somewhere towards the podium to indicate to Alastair that he should come with him and then set off himself.
He didn't take his arm off Dean's shoulders the entire time, and Dean didn't let go of his waist for a change. He definitely felt safer there, because if Alastair was going to do anything to him, he would literally have Alpha as a fiercely biting shield. Yeah, it was a bit cowardly, but he allowed himself to do it because he couldn't do anything but hold onto Case anyway. That's exactly what a properly mannered, properly loving, properly clingy Omega would do.
They sat down on a large comfortable dark red couch, curling up into a circle, in the center of which was a small circular stage for one stripper (or two, if they liked each other a lot) with a pole, and from which a catwalk went up to a larger stage nearby. Actually, the stage and pier formed something of a star with many spokes.
Dean took a quick look around and immediately knew why Castiel had chosen this spot. For one thing, they could sit on one side of the stage and Alastair, along with Meg, on the other, so there was a large piece of sofa between them. And secondly, not only could they see the bar where Benny was and also Alpha's man who had let them in, but also the emergency entrance. It was quite visible against the white painted door, with the curtain stretched out beside it. They had probably been covered by the curtain so as not to disturb the guests so much, and all that remained visible was the glowing "Exit" sign shining above them.
A naked woman suddenly appeared in front of his face. Well, she didn't appear, she came from behind him from somewhere around the bar just as he was staring at the white door. And she wasn't exactly naked. She was wearing panties... sort of. But they only covered the bare essentials. And she had blooming roses stuck to her nipples, which didn't actually cover the nipples at all. Hell no! The center of the flower bulged as the tips of her nipples rose up in the cool air conditioning until it looked like they would puncture the thin paper the flowers were made of. And her breasts swung down as she leaned forward to offer them a drink. They hung right in front of his face. Fuck! They were so close he could see every fine hair and a few small freckles, and he could smell the faint Beta scent of mint, jasmine soap, and some other flowers from her red hair.
The smells were sensational! And those tits were even better...
"Omega!" A sharp voice echoed to his left.
"Yeah...?" He asked distractedly, making an effort to tear his gaze away from the boobs that were dangling in front of his face.
"Get a glass!" Alpha ordered him sharply.
A glass? What glass? Where the glass? These were the questions that ran through his mind before he noticed that the waitress was holding a tray of tall champagne glasses right in front of him, and then he also noticed that Castiel had already taken his own.
"Oh... yeah, right..." he replied awkwardly, quickly reaching for one of the glasses, trying hard to keep his gaze down. Nicely safe, away from the swaying breasts, but unfortunately not so far from the undulating hips and arching ass. She had ten different sized stars tattooed on it. They were on her right cheek and stretched all the way up under the thin string of her thong.
An ugly, screeching laugh came from the other side of the stage.
"Looks like your pet doesn't have eyes only for you, Castiel," Alastair remarked, clearly intending to mock Castiel.
Dean tensed. He'd fucked this up again. Granted, the Alpha had told him to have fun, but holy shit! He should've restrained himself more and not stared at the naked woman like it was something he was seeing for the first time.
"I told him he could have all the fun he wanted today. After all, there is something to celebrate, isn't there?" Cas replied, perfectly calm, but he pulled Dean a little closer to him, so that he was literally lying on his side, so close that he had nowhere else to put his hand but on his thigh or knee. And he did, as long as he didn't squeeze his arm between them. The alpha responded by resting the edge of his jaw slightly against his temple.
"It certainly is," Alastair replied, evidently a little disappointed that Cas hadn't swallowed his punch, and raised his glass. "Let's drink to our success! Cheers!"
"Cheers!" Everyone repeated in chorus, raising their glasses in a toast.
Dean, like everyone else, took a sip of champagne and barely suppressed the urge to grin in disgust. He'd heard as many rumors about champagne as he had about caviar, and it was perhaps even more disappointing to finally taste it. It was simply bubbly wine. Just as sour and disgusting as the non-bubbly stuff. Good thing they had a family tradition of toasting the New Year with beer. It did have a small upside, though, it cooled his raging hormones.
Castiel had no problem with the champagne, emptying half of his glass, whereupon he relaxed a little and stretched his legs out comfortably before nodding towards the bar. Dean noticed that Benny returned the nod and sent him on his way to someone at the back of the bar.
The lights faded to a pleasant gloom, the music changed to the kind you'd expect in a strip club, and literally all the fearsome strippers emerged nearly naked or half-naked. Not all of them appeared on stage, some came with carts of food and other drinks... and they were just everywhere. He could hardly avoid looking at them if he wanted to and... shit! He certainly didn't want to.
He threw down the rest of the nasty drink he had left and thought to himself that while it wasn't going to be a great night, with so many naked chicks around, it wasn't going to be the worst night of his life either.
°°0°°
With a sigh, John leaned against the side of the van and started fumbling in his pocket for cigarettes. His hands fucking hurt, his gums itched with rage, his Alpha was breathing sullenly and John needed to calm down. To calm down and take a little breather from the work that lay ahead of him. He just wasn't as young as he was ten years ago when he'd started this, and the years he'd gained were showing.
He pulled out his last cigarette, crumpled the pack and stuck it in his pocket. And he lit up. He inhaled long and exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on a clear sky full of stars with only a few clouds. Here, outside the city, the sky was beautiful. Mary would like it so much if she were here with him now. She'd be sure to try to find all the star constellations and come up with new names for the brightest stars, because she didn't know the real ones. His beautiful Mary. His Omega. His True Mate. When he closed his eyes,he could still smell her scent; vanilla and sweet tangerine. And a sharp touch of wildness and wildness that intensified when she was angry or, conversely, when she was so happy she was laughing at the top of her lungs. God... her laughter was so beautiful!
He opened his eyes and took another shaky drag from his cigarette before looking at it.
Mary didn't like that he smoked and he'd almost quit because of her. She'd only allowed him two, three cigarettes a day at most, and he'd obediently followed all her orders, but after she'd died... He guiltily stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and reached into his pocket for his phone. He knew the number from memory. He dialed it and hesitated briefly before pressing the green button and putting the phone to his ear.
Three rings.
It was always three rings.
"You've reached Mary Winchester. You know what to do. And John... it's milk. Beep."
A quiet laugh crossed his lips. He never wrote his own shopping list and always forgot to take the one Mary had prepared for him, and then he stood at the checkout with the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. It was always milk. Literally every time. He'd come home without it so often that his beloved Omega would remind him of it in a voicemail message.
The laughter turned into a sigh, with which he hung up the call and returned the phone to his pocket. It was time to work.
Choking his cigarette on the van, he stuck it casually in his pocket, even though it would probably break, and made his way to the back door. The sounds of boots scraping against the rubber floor of the back compartment could be heard from behind them. John grinned slightly. Did the fucker think he was some kind of fool or amateur? He'd had more than enough of those like his guest tied up in the back of the car pass through his hands. This one had no tricks up his sleeve to surprise him.
He opened the door and was ready for the bound legs kicking against his chest.
He grabbed both of the man's ankles, looked into his angry and somewhat surprised eyes, and squeezed with all of Alpha's strength. He could clearly feel the knuckles under his hands loosen and begin to break, and he could hear the cracking sound of bones snapping accompanied by a roar muffled by the tightly tightened gag. And the pain in the man's face, which John watched with an impassive expression.
He held no real grudge against the bastard, but he didn't like him. He was one of Alastair's two men who had killed Larry. He didn't really like Larry either, but he felt responsible for his death. He was a pretty innocent guy who didn't deserve to end up the way he did.
John met Larry at a gas station where he was hitchhiking. He was one of those half-way vagrants who traveled the States working as a laborer for cash. His life was a little like John's and so he sympathized with him, but even so he wouldn't have taken him along if it hadn't been for one little thing. Larry was uncannily like him. Same height and weight, age, hair color, he was also an Alpha and even in face they looked like brothers. That gave John an idea...
He had been aware for some time that he was being watched. He didn't have anyone right on his tail, no cars following him or meeting suspicious people in the diners, bars, and roadside motels he stopped at, but he had the feeling. Instinct. His Alpha was sure of it. He decided to trust the instinct and care more about it. He contacted Ash and he confirmed that someone was following the sparse electronic trail he was leaving behind him. He knew a lot of candidates for the tail, but he guessed Alastair, since he hadn't exactly parted on good terms with him. He had to be sure, though.
Then when he met Larry, he decided to set a trap.
He took him with him to the nearest motel, saying he'd pay for a room for a few days so he could rest up before moving on. Larry was a friendly guy and even though he was an Alpha, they managed to get along well enough because traveling had stifled the territorial tendencies in both of them as much as possible and perhaps even more so in Larry because he was dependent on hitchhiking and indentured labor and so had to get used to staying in strange cars and strange houses or shared dormitories. He therefore agreed to John's proposal immediately and very enthusiastically.
He ordered two rooms for them, one in his name and one in Larry's. The one in his name he paid for three days and let Larry stay in it, while the one in Larry's name he occupied himself for one night and seemingly left in the morning. In reality, however, he left the Impala parked only a ten-minute walk from the motel and rented a small van from a local man, which he returned to the motel parking lot and waited.
Alastair's guys showed up the next day, checked the motel, and returned for the night. John expected them to barge in and try to kidnap or kill Larry. He was ready to intervene as soon as they did and then beat the crap out of them, who they were and who sent them. He wasn't prepared for them to throw some explosives through the window and set the whole fucking motel on fire.
He couldn't help Larry. By the time he got to the motel door, the whole room was in flames. He had no choice but to get in the van and get as far and fast as he could without getting into the hands of the cops. And try to get the ones that killed Larry.
It wasn't so hard after all, even though they'd gotten separated while fleeing the city. First he caught one and broke a few bones to get it out of him that he really belonged to Alastair, and then he killed him and threw his body in the river. And now he's got the other one. He didn't need anything else from that, so he just knocked him out, tied him up and threw him in the van - if he happened to get caught by the highway patrol, the penalties for restraint and kidnapping were less than for aggravated murder in a similar attempt to hide a body.
So here he was, and now a shallow grave, dug a few dozen yards from the road, was waiting for Beta in the back of the van.
He loosened his grip and threw Beta's legs into the car. This rotated him a little so he could grab him under the shoulders and pull him out of the van. At first the man didn't resist, probably still paralyzed with pain, but when he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and shirt and started walking him up the slope, dragging him along the ground, he began to thrash and scream through his gag. As if he might have a chance of getting out of here with his ankles crushed.
He climbed the slope, which was more difficult than he liked, and continued on to the grave he had been digging for the last hour and a half. There he threw Beta down beside him and straightened up with a sigh. His back fucking hurt, and when he stretched it, it snapped like it was made of wood.
"Damn... I'm too old for this shit," he sighed, casting an impassive look at the guy who was trying to crawl away like a worm.
He might as well finish the cigarette he had in his pocket and Beta wouldn't get very far anyway, but he didn't have that much time. He grabbed the guy by the limbo, easily lifting him off the ground and pressing his back against his chest. Beta immediately started thrashing, even tried to punch John in the chin with his temple, but he was prepared for that. He wrapped his arm around his neck.
"That's for Larry," he said in his ear, grabbing his chin and yanking in one motion. The crunch of cracking spine was the last sound Beta made before his body went limp in John's grip.
He held him for a few more seconds before tossing the now dead body, into the shallow grave and straightening up again. That back was really killing him. He looked down at the corpse lying in the loose, freshly dug dirt. Now he still had to bury the grave. He dug one protruding foot into the grave, bent down for a shovel, and set to work.
Twenty minutes later, with the shovel thrown over his shoulder, John ran down the slope to the road, threw the shovel into the back of the van and climbed in.
It was done.
Now he had to go back for the Impala and get going.
New York wasn't far away, and his boys had been alone too long.
Chapter 39
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Dean's head was buzzing with all the alcohol he'd drunk. He guessed it must have been at least ten bottles, but he wasn't sure how long. All he remembered was that he'd stopped counting at eight and about the same time his vigilance had relaxed. The alcohol was definitely to blame, but Castiel's calming scent was probably to blame as well, as the Alpha seemed quite at ease with sitting a short distance from Alastair. And the mixture of the beautiful Beta's scents that kept moving around and keeping him aroused. He'd never realized that having a cock half hard for dozens of minutes could actually be quite tiring.
That was probably why he ended up sprawled on Alpha's side, his arm around his shoulders, clutching the bottle propped against his own knee. And from beneath his closed eyelids, he watched Alastair snort a line from the belly of a stripper lying on the stage. And for some reason, he felt completely at ease with all this. Well... he hadn't been so cool with it when Beta had pulled out the silver box a few hours ago and offered him and Castiel a snort. At first he was scared that he would have to agree to keep up the mask of 'proper mafia Omega'. He was admittedly curious to see what it was like. Who wouldn't be? But one thought of Sammy kept him well away from all drugs, and his recent experiences in the night city hadn't really encouraged him to experiment either. He almost... almost blurted out that he couldn't because he was pregnant. In fact, that was the first, at least somewhat plausible excuse he could think of. Fortunately, he didn't have to resort to it. Castiel had refused on both their behalf, citing some Brotherhood code. Dean made a mental note to ask him about it later, as it discouraged Alastair from offering any more coke. Yeah, he'd commented on it with a smirk and a fake show of regret, but he also respected Alpha's forgiveness and that seemed important to Dean. Maybe he could use some of that code as an excuse sometime, too.
"Omega?" came over his head.
A little confused, he lifted his head from Castiel's shoulder and squinted at him through the smoke that was billowing around him. The club may have been large and the air conditioning was running, but Alpha had lit one cigarette after another, literally, and filled at least two ashtrays in the time they'd been here. Dean stopped counting cigarettes when Cas got to the twenty-third.
"Yeah?"
"Dawn. Time to go."
What? They spent all night here? How the hell did this happen? Oh, shit! Sammy! He told him he'd be late, but he didn't tell him he'd be out all night. He didn't call or text him the whole time either. And it looked like Sam hadn't texted him. Or did he miss the message and the ring?
He lifted himself out of Castiel's embrace completely and started fumbling in his pocket. His fingers were clumsy and everything swam before his eyes, but he finally found his phone and squinted at the screen. There were only four messages from Sam and something from Kevin. He ignored that and opened the chat with Sam. Surprisingly, the little Alpha only texted him that it was time, then that he'd eaten and done his homework, that he was going to bed, and finally wished him a good time. Okay... well... that seemed fine. Sammy was fine with everything. Just cool... good... just...
"I have to go to school," he blurted out what was running through his head at the moment.
A double burst of laughter came from the other side of the stage. One screechy one from Alastair that turned into a sort of hiss and a ringing one from Meg.
"He's actually quite sweet..." crooned Meg amusedly, taking a sip of her martini.
Dean frowned in her direction. He didn't think he'd said anything particularly funny and was about to take a breath to mention it when Castiel cupped his chin and turned his face to his.
"You're drunk. Go to the bathroom and wake up."
It was an order spoken in a commanding voice that definitely had an effect on Dean's Omega, even if even she was a little dulled by the alcohol. But because it was also a good idea, he didn't object. He finished the rest of the stale beer at the very bottom of the bottle and rose to his light feet, only to lean forward, using the back of the sofa as support, and press his lips to Castiel's cheek in a quick kiss. He didn't even know why he did it, but he just did it, and since Cas didn't object, didn't touch himself, and even a whiff of sweetness came through the smell of cigarettes, he didn't think much of it and headed for the bathroom.
There were some very nice toilets. All new, shiny, clean and fresh smelling. It was funny, because everything around his Alpha was so new and shiny, like it was from another world. And at the same time, things like a cheap toothbrush or a chipped and scratched ashtray were randomly found in Alpha's world. He had to chuckle at the contrast, and the laughter held him, even as he staggered from the urinal to the sinks. He was just leaning against the stone counter in which the basins were set when there was a slamming of the door.
He looked up and saw in the reflection of the mirror Meg who had just entered. He sent her a scowl through the mirror.
"Hey! This is for the men," he pointed out to her, unnecessarily, he immediately realized. She certainly hadn't wandered in here by mistake. She had come on purpose and blocked Dean's way out.
"Don't be shy, little Ome." She grinned.
He turned to face her.
"I'm not. What do you want from me?"
"Just to have a little chat."
"About what?"
"About the evil man with the blue eyes," she replied, and Dean rolled his eyes at the pathetic paraphrase of The Who's song. Seriously? Such a cliché. Literally anyone who has met Cas and had any idea what his real job is must have remembered this song.
"He's not who you think he is."
This time it was his turn to grin, and he leaned his butt comfortably against the sink counter, arms folded across his chest. Those few words of Beta's were enough to tell him what picture she had formed of him. She thought he was a sweet, silly teenage Omega being raised by Castiel like some sort of pet, and that he had no idea who the Alpha really was. Or if he does, he believes he's just like the guy in the song; a villain with a heart of gold or something. It would be insulting if he didn't feel proud of himself at the same time. He obviously did a good job today. He played a great game.
"I know exactly who he is. He's my Mate, and he loves me," he said, within the role of course, though something fluttered in his stomach when he mentioned it, and his Omega growled in satisfaction.
"If you say so, little Ome," he said, one corner of his face twisted unpleasantly, and leaned into the door, causing it to swing open. "But maybe you should wonder what was celebrated here today and why it was so important that you be here," she added before walking out, leaving Dean to his musings.
Of course he wondered what Castiel and Alastair were celebrating and the fact that the Alpha hadn't said or explained anything was one of the things that annoyed him. Unless Cas was pretending to share a common interest with Alastair, what they were celebrating had to be extremely important to Castiel himself. That meant Dean wanted to know about it, but at the same time, he remembered Alpha's words that he would never talk about specific people, dates, or... well, let's just say business transactions. So it was safe to say that Cas' business had nothing to do with Dean personally, that is, except for the long term plan to kill Alastair that he knew about, so why was the Beta brunette acting like he had some personal stake in this Cas and Alastair thing? He didn't know, but it settled in his mind. Sort of. It was hard to think through the haze of alcohol, so he did as Cas instructed; he scooped up palms full of cold water and splashed it in his face. He did it a few times, wetting his shirt and the collar of his shirt, but it helped. His head cleared a little and by the time he walked back to their sofa a few moments later, he could quite perceive, so he could make out Alastair's voice over the music from a distance.
"... A few weeks. They have military records."
"You didn't tell me his body was so burnt. Identifying him will be difficult."
"You didn't want to talk in front of your pet."
"For good reasons you know."
Beta laughed that nasty laugh of his that gave Dean goosebumps and fixed his gaze directly on him. Even though Alastair was sprawled out on the sofa, with a curled-up girl sitting on his lap wearing nothing but a pair of tiny panties, Beta gave him an uncomfortable impression, looking at him hungrily and at the same time as if he considered him to be something less than a bug squashed by his shoe. Without the strong haze of alcohol and a kind of stiff laziness that came over him from Alpha's scent, it occurred to him again how nice it would be to wipe that expression off Alastair's face with his fist, but he controlled himself and with some effort, dropped his gaze down somewhere vaguely, as any proper Omega would. And he leaned sideways against the sofa.
Cas cast a quick glance in Dean's direction, as if surprised at his sudden appearance, but then, when he turned to Alastair, he sounded calm.
"It's been a pleasant few hours, Alastair, and I hate to leave, but you know... business doesn't stop just because you're having a good time. But please... be my guest for as long as you like," he added, standing up and buttoning his jacket in a fluid motion, making it clear he was determined to leave.
"What a shame…" Beta trailed off and although it was supposed to be a regretful sigh, it sounded more like a mocking tone because almost everything from him sounded mocking. And he ran his hand over the thigh of the stritpter that was sprawled in his lap. "You and I were just starting to have fun, weren't we, pet?" He asked the girl, burying his nose in her throat with a loud suck of air, as if he was the Alpha and could smell her scent, to which the stripper responded with a giggle and a sound of approval. "You're right though, Castiel. Business never stands still, and I can't even stay here an hour longer." This time he almost sounded like he was genuinely sorry.
That seemed to decide that the fun was truly over, and there was a sort of empty moment where everyone got up and headed for the door. Castiel, of course, put his arm around Dean's shoulders at the first opportunity and held him close, in a protective embrace, just as he had all evening and night. And Meg circled around them, keeping her distance, as she had all along, only joining Alastair's side when, just before the exit, he finally let go of the stripper and walked through the door Castiel's man had opened for him.
The cold morning air bit into Dean's flesh and the harsh light bit into his eyes again as soon as he crossed the threshold. It really was morning. It was even so late in the morning that the street was already bustling; full of cars and people who didn't really look like they'd come out of a nearby entertainment venue either. Dude, what time was it anyway? He had his phone in his hand about ten minutes ago and forgot to look. Now wasn't the time to pull it out though, as Alastair approached them to say goodbye. He and Castiel squeezed each other's rights tightly and amicably, and got closer than Dean liked. Thankfully, the Beta had no desire to say a similar farewell to him as well, merely sending one brief glance towards him obliquely and curving his lips into an unpleasant smile. The brunette Beta didn't even bother to say hello, just stood by and waited for his boss.
They were left standing a few feet from the Garden entrance. Castiel still had his arm around Dean's shoulders, squeezing his side, and he watched warily as Alastair got into a Mercedes similar to Alpha's, and then as Alastair's car slid into traffic. It was only at that moment that Alphaa finally relaxed and a growl ripped from his chest. Deep, disgruntled and annoyed at the same time.
"Der'mo! Merzkaya malen'kaya krysa! Ya by khotel pererezat' yemu gorlo, kak der'movoy, pyl'noy sobake!" He growled through bared teeth in Russian, something that Dean didn't exactly understand, but in the overall context he did.
"Yeah, that's what I think of that prick too," he growled supportively.
The alpha shot him a surprised look, whereupon the corners of his mouth curled up in an amused smile and he buried his nose in Dean's hair as he placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face slightly towards his own.
"Come. I'll take you to my place. We'll have breakfast..." growled Cas into his hair.
Dean's stomach growled in response. They did have food all the time, but it was just cold snacks, finger food and tiny sandwiches, and since he was playing the well-mannered Omega he tried to eat politely. Now he'd have something proper. A large serving of pancakes, a farmer's breakfast at some diner, shit, he'd have a BigMack. Or two straight with a pile of fries and a huge milkshake. And coffee to wake him up. Only he didn't know he had time for that kind of breakfast.
"I have to get home. Check on Sammy. And then go to school..."
"My men will take care of your brother," the Alpha argued, a hint of bitterness in his scent.
Regardless of the fact that they'd cleared Dean's... well, their situation together, Castiel still didn't like Sam, and Dean knew he shouldn't provoke him in any way about him.
"Yeah, okay, but I still have to go to school."
Cas sighed in a way that made it clear he'd given up.
Together they headed to the Mercedes that had been waiting for them (maybe all night). Golem opened the back door for them. The alpha slipped in first, telling Golem on the way that he should head to the school. Dean followed him into the back seat. Getting out of the cold morning and into a heated car was really great, so with a sigh he buried his face in the soft padding and enjoyed the heated seats. He should text Sam to tell him he was okay so he wouldn't worry. He reached for his phone, watching Cas out of the corner of his eye as he leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. He took advantage of that and quickly tapped out a message telling his younger brother that he was staying the night at Alpha's and would meet him at the school. He was in the process of sending it when a creak of leather signaled Castiel to move across the seat towards him, the sweet smell of freshly baked pie enveloping him, a warm hand on his thigh, and the Alpha propped his chin up with the back of his index finger, inviting him to look into his eyes.
"I'm proud of you, Dean," he said in a deep, gravelly voice laced with a hint of a growl. His eyes were warm and squinted and the lines around his mouth were deep as his expression relaxed. "You made the best impression on Alastair. Just as I expected."
"No, you didn't," he replied calmly.
The alpha paused, a crease forming between his brows, and tilted his head to one side in confusion, as if perhaps he didn't know what Dean was referring to. That expression, it was what made him remember why he'd been angry with Castiel the day before in the first place.
"If you expected me to behave the way you want and... need, you would have told me in advance who we were meeting. You didn't," he said in an accusatory tone, pulling away from his touch. "You kept me guessing until the last minute, probably because you thought... I don't know... that I'd be too embarrassed to make a rage scene in public. Or... was that some kind of test?"
"No, it wasn't a test. I just didn't want to..."
"You didn't want what?" He cut him off sharply, anger suddenly bubbling out with full force through his chest, not knowing where it came from or why. "You didn't mean to look like you didn't trust me?"
"I believe you, dorogaya, I just didn't want to scare you unnecessarily beforehand. There's nothing worse than being afraid of future fear. It's best to face what we're afraid of head on. A clean cut."
"I'm not afraid of Alastair," he denied, which... wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't entirely true either.
"You stink of fear whenever you hear his name. You smell of it even now," Cas argued, and unfortunately, yes, he was right. Alastair was making him a little nervous even now, and maybe it was in his scent.
"Fine! He might scare me a bit, but I think I have a damn right to after he let me get beaten up. And I had a right to know I'd have to meet him."
"I don't understand what this conversation is about," Cas said in a tone like he really didn't, pulling away, his lips pressed into a line. "You admit you're afraid of him and what's done is done. You dealt with your fear and showed you can play the obedient Omega. I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish by starting a fight now."
Dean pursed his lips, suppressing an angry growl. He wanted to think the Alpha was being obtuse on purpose, but something told him he really didn't understand what was bothering him.
"I don't want to fight. I want respect and I want the truth," he replied as calmly as he could. "You... you want me to believe this," he motioned between them with his finger, "is real and I'm trying to believe it, okay? But if we're... you know... a couple, we have to tell each other things. That's what couples do. And also... I can pretend and trick, okay?" He raised an eyebrow significantly. "Scams was one of the ways we survived when our Alpha couldn't find work or wasn't with us and I was too young to be employed."
"And pulling money and favors from other Alphas using your Omega... charm. I know," Cas added to that with a clear and disgruntled growl at the end of his sentence.
"That too, but small or bigger scams bring out a lot more," he said, "I can walk the walk, but to play my part right, I need to know the plan ahead of time. I have to know what's expected of me. Sure, sometimes you have to improvise because things rarely go exactly according to plan, but you have to have a plan. And I need to know about it," he said urgently, hoping Castiel understood what he was talking about. "Because... you know... yesterday, when Alastair suddenly showed up, I... I wasn't sure what was going on," he chose his words carefully, not wanting to explicitly tell the Alpha that he didn't trust him, and he also moved his gaze to his hands to hide whatever was showing in his eyes. "My Omega..." he paused again, not only because he generally found it silly to talk about that part of himself, even sillier than talking about feelings, but also because it was the first time he'd ever said 'my Omega' in front of anyone other than Sam and he thought, just in the back of his mind, that Cas would find it absurd that he was even talking about it. But the alpha hadn't made a sound, no hint of mockery or disdain for bringing up the subject, just watching him with that intense gaze of his, as if Dean was all he could see and perceive at the moment. He licked his lips, taking a deep breath to give himself courage, though he didn't lift his eyes to Castiel. He let them wander around the interior of the car as he continued, "For a moment, she thought you didn't want me anymore. That you left me or something. Yeah, then I realized you wouldn't do that. I could see and smell how much you hated Alastair, and not just for what he did to me. And I realized that all you care about is earning his trust, because if he trusts you, he'll be less wary around you and your men. And then it'll be easier to destroy him. It's just..." he suddenly paused, hesitating over what he had said and what else he was going to say, as it suddenly occurred to him that he might be wrong. Maybe this wasn't Alpha's plan. He glanced up at him quickly. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? That was the point, right?"
"Yes. That's the plan," Cas agreed simply, much to Dean's relief.
"Fine, I'm glad I figured it out and didn't mess it up for you. I might not figure it out next time, though, so you need to share your plans with me if I'm going to be in them," he finished, and ugh, it was fucking hard to be serious and say all this adult shit.
"I'm not used to sharing my plans or working with anyone," the Alpha admitted without blinking.
He couldn't help throwing him a skeptical look.
"Dude, you run a crime syndicate. It must be about cooperation."
"Not exactly," he retorted. "It's a maxim that the less you know, the less you can reveal. Even I don't know every single detail, so if the police, the Feds, or Interpol get their hands on me, and if they find a way to get me to talk, what I know won't bring down our entire organization."
"How do you not know everything? You're the big boss. That can't even work," he didn't understand, voicing his incomprehension out loud before realizing the Alpha might interpret it as mockery or something. It was already on his lips to explain that he didn't mean it that way, but Cas didn't look hurt or smell bitter, instead launching into a calm explanation:
"Each of my Lieutenants has... shall we say... a field of authority, a budget, resources, and a limited number of men; members of the Brotherhood who report to them. What deals they make and how they use their resources is entirely within their control. I have the right to know everything or interfere with their decisions, but it is not expected that I do so. They only turn to me when they need to decide something that is beyond their competence or when something goes wrong. And vice versa... I have my own plans and receive orders from our Triumvirs, and my Lieutenants don't expect me to share any of it with them. They are prepared to listen without question, just as I do the will of our Pakhams and ask no questions."
"Sounds like a terrorist operative cell," he remarked with a thoughtful frown. More than once, because of Sammy's obsession with crime and serial killers, he had watched documentary programmes on criminals, including terrorists. Not that he paid much attention to it, but some of it stuck in his mind. Now he'd be happy to remember a lot more.
The alpha chuckled briefly.
"Da. Da, it's very similar," he agreed simply, whereupon he squinted his eyes a little, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "You didn't think the cellular system of running an organization was invented only twenty years ago in Al Qaeda, did you? It's an old way of creating a hydra. Many heads, one unaware of the other, and if one head is cut off, the others and the body remain intact."
"Okay... yeah, maybe that's how it works when you run a big organization, but it won't work for me. Certainly not in cases like this meeting with Alastair."
The alpha measured him with a long look, his face with its typical expression both calm and unreadable, and since his scent hadn't changed, Dean couldn't guess what he was going to say now, let alone what was going through his mind. That's why it was a bit of a surprise when he nodded slightly.
"I see what you mean. I'll tell you about my plans when they involve you," he agreed, leaning forward and running a hand through Dean's hair before raising his eyebrows slightly in question. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Yeah, it is," he growled back, hooking his fingers into Alpha's wrist and tilting his head to the side with a sigh to get closer to the cherry scent rising from his wrist and mingling with the peppery smell of the many cigarettes he'd smoked today. Closing his eyes and rubbing his chin against the soft fabric of his luxurious jacket, he let out a satisfied growl from the Alpha, joined by a rumble in Dean's own chest. His first thought was still to swallow it, but he forced himself not to, letting the sound rise to the surface to Castiel's obvious pleasure, which manifested itself in the form of a sweet stream in his scent.
Dean opened his eyes and looked up into Cas's face. He could see every fine wrinkle, every beard in his stubble, including those that already had a tinge of gray, and the unreddened circle in his blue irises. It was such a peaceful moment, so it couldn't be him, lest his thoughts slip back to what Meg had told him.
"Are you going to tell me now why it was so important for me to be at your meeting with Alastair? Apart from the obvious, which was that you wanted to show off your sexy, young Omega wheel," he added more or less jokingly, though he suspected that might have been the reason.
A shadow of a smile ran across Castiel's eyes.
"I really wanted to show you off and show that you're mine. There was no other reason."
Okay, that sounded plausible, yet he had another question.
"And the guy whose death you were celebrating? Who was he?"
This time the Alpha pulled away, his hand dropping from Dean's hair to his shoulder.
"No one important."
"He may not have been important to you, but he was to Alastair. So who was he?" He repeated his question.
"Like I said; no one important. Don't worry about it," Castiel repeated his answer and ruffled Dean's hair. There was something evasive about both his words and his gesture.
"Why don't you tell me who it was?" He asked, squinting his eyes suspiciously. "If he's already dead, it can't hurt to know his name. And if it was someone dangerous and powerful, I should know his name. What if his people want revenge? I don't want another Alastair around my neck."
"Don't worry. He doesn't have any allies who want revenge on you. You don't need to know anything about him."
"I don't need to know anything, you can't tell me anything, or you don't want to tell me anything?" he pressed firmly; Castiel tilted his head just a little to the side and pursed his lips, clearly unwilling to answer. That pissed Dean off. "You know what? Fuck it," he growled, pulling away to start gathering his things that had been shoved under the front seat since yesterday.
It hadn't been a minute since he'd been talking about trust and truth and other emotional shit. He opened up, acted like an adult and in a relationship and all that stuff and the result? The first opportunity he'd had to know more about Alpha's plan, he'd been brushed off with some excuses. Cas hadn't told him he couldn't tell him anything and hadn't even bothered with any lies, just tried to feed him some comforting bullshit. He had no desire to listen to them. His head was starting to hurt and all the pouring out of his heart was irritating him to the point where Alpha's behaviour was making his eyes sting with tears. He had no fucking idea why. Such a stupid, Omega reaction.
He didn't even have to take a quick glance out the window to know that with one column and so it was safe to just open the door and jump out of the Mercedes with his things in hand. He got right in front of some taxi. He braked hard and despite the closed windows and the furious honking all around, the cabbie could be heard cursing. He took no notice of it, nor did he heed Castiel's half-surprised, half-angry shout of "Come back now, Dean!" and quickly weaved his way through the cars to the sidewalk.
There were a lot of people hurrying on the sidewalk. So many, in fact, that he wasn't used to it, and at first he couldn't even decide which way to go. That was probably what gave Castiel enough time to cross the street behind him.
"You sumasshedshiy?!" Castiel growled as he grabbed his forearm and turned him to face him. "What do you think you're doing? Where do you want to go like that!" He waved his hand around Dean, probably indicating that he was holding his t-shirt and shirt, his jacket slung over one shoulder, the strap of his bag dragging on the ground.
"Let go of me!" He snarled in return, showing his little Omega fangs in a manner that wasn't really meant to be intimidating. But the alpha moved away while still holding his hand tightly, and unless he wanted to start a fight, he had no hope of breaking free of his grip. "I say; let go of me! I want to go to school alone."
"No, you're not going anywhere," he ordered, grabbing Dean by the other knee and pulling him close. "What the fuck's got into you, Omega?!" He asked, using Dean's secondary gender. Aside from his evening with Alastair, he'd done even less of that since their adult conversation.
Dean exhaled sharply through bared teeth. He felt a little sick, his head was spinning, but mostly he could feel the anger bubbling up inside him. Maybe it wasn't even anger at Castiel's refusal to give him a proper answer when he asked whose death they were celebrating, or at least not only that. It was probably the anger he'd had at Alpha last night for even throwing him in front of Alastair, or the booze, or... he didn't know what the hell, but now that he'd jumped out of the car like some kind of fool and they were standing together outside among all those people... he was starting to feel awkward. And the anger began to dissolve in that feeling of awkwardness.
"I..." he stammered, his defiantly tense shoulders loosening on their own as he tried to pull away. "I spilled some emotional shit on you, you know? The kind I never told anyone, and then when I wanted you to answer one stupid, simple question honestly, you flipped out. It just..."
"Chto? You're freaking out like that because I didn't tell you what Alastair and I were celebrating?" Cas asked almost incredulously; Dean just pursed his lips and gave a small nod, the feeling of awkwardness he had only growing as it suddenly became clear to him how stupid that was.
Castiel let his hands drop from his arm and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
"You're going to drive me crazy someday..." he muttered before looking up and showing Dean a face that showed weariness from a sleepless night, but no anger. "Come..." he said in a flat voice, grabbing him under the elbow and with a slight tug, forcing him to wend his way through the crowds to the window of a clothing store.
They didn't have privacy in the true sense of the word, but there was at least a little extra space.
"I've known for some time that Alastair has a police rat in his organization. I told him about it because it was a good way to gain his trust. And after he took care of the problem, I suggested we celebrate it together."
That made sense, ignoring Meg and what she'd told him and then the brief conversation he'd overheard at the Garden. Castiel had taken a distinct interest in the dead man there and was not pleased that he was burned and would not be easy to identify.
"You were interested in the outcome of the... removal," he pointed out; Castiel cocked his head to one side questioningly, raising his eyebrows a little. "I heard you complaining that identification would be difficult."
"I want to make sure that Alastair fired the right employee and that his original employers recognize him, because I was the one who sent him to Alastair's company." This time it was Dean's turn to look questioning. "He originally wanted to join us, but we knew right away who he was. Normally he wouldn't have passed the entrance test, but I let him pass and sent him to Alastair. That way we could feed him false information about our business activities and he not only snitched on Alastair to us but also to his original employers. A victory for us only," he explained at length. "The problem is, if he wasn't dead or Alastair had time to interrogate him, I'm sure he would have spoken about me too. His positive identification will bring closure to all this."
"Why did you turn him over to Alastair if he was useful to you?"
"Because he began to suspect that things were not as his Lieutenant had told him. He was asking too many questions. This was the best way to end the whole thing."
Everything he said sounded perfectly plausible. Alpha's face was calm, he was looking Dean straight in the eye, and what little he caught of his scent, though bitter with irritation, didn't smell of lies. Except for Meg's word... Shit! What the hell are you doing, Winchester! How could you believe for a moment something told to you by some complete stranger Beta who also happens to be a watchdog for fucking Alastair? Have her big tits gotten to your brain? This is Cas, man. You can trust Cas.
"Satisfied with the explanation?"
"Yeah... why didn't you want to tell me about it? And why didn't you want me to hear about it when you were talking to Alastair?"
This time Castiel didn't wonder how he knew what he and Alastair had talked about.
"In our Brotherhood, we take the old traditions and the Vor Code... more loosely than many other organizations. Our members don't have to forsake their bloodlines or give up hope of a family of their own and give themselves to their Brothers alone, but... even if our loved ones know who we are... we don't discuss business at the family table. We only talk about it in front of those who are expendable. I..." he sighed a little and took Dean's face in his hands, "I made an exception in your case that could set a dangerous precedent. Alastair knows our laws and would use them against me... against us."
"You could have told me all this before."
The Alpha closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh and rested his forehead against Dean's.
"I know," he agreed without so much as opening his eyes. "I didn't want to deal with Alastair anymore. ' He opened his eyes and pulled away a little, but still stayed close enough that he could feel the heat and wetness of his cigarette breath on his face. "And I was kind of hoping to convince you to skip school and spend the day in my bed after all, so I didn't want to spoil the atmosphere."
Okay... that all sounded perfectly plausible, and Dean felt more awkward by the minute. He was freaking out for absolutely nothing, and he was ruining everything to boot. Yeah, he wanted to go to school. He had to go to school, but on the other hand... if he skipped a day, nothing would happen either. But now Cas won't want to spend the day with him anymore.
"Shall we go back to the car?" Alpha asked. "My balls freezing..."
Dean chuckled.
"Yeah, sure," he agreed immediately. Cas was right, it was fucking cold, they were both only wearing light clothing and the fact that the sun had found a few cracks in the grey sky certainly didn't save the situation. He could already feel his icy fingertips tingling and his teeth starting to chatter.
Cas wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to him so they could warm up a little from each other. He took advantage of that and slipped his free hand under his jacket while he clutched his things to his chest and wrapped his other arm in them. Squeezed together like that, they made their way through the crowd back to where their car was probably still sitting in traffic. And it did. The Mercedes may have moved a little, but not so much that they couldn't find it and weave their way back to it between the furiously honking and braking cars.
The alpha opened the door for him, letting him in first before slipping in behind him. And no sooner had Dean managed to throw his things on the ground than Alpha's strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him into Castiel's chest.
"Still want to go to school rather than my place?" He asked, lips almost pressed to his temple.
"I should go to school...I promised Sam I'd see him there."
"Too bad..."
Disgruntled bitterness pinched his nose, but at the same time something else came with it. He sucked in a good gulp of air before his slightly frosty nose picked up on the musky arousal in Alpha's pie scent in addition to the musky excitement.
He turned his head a little in surprise to see Cas's face, showing his teeth in a grin.
"You're horny."
"Yes," Cas growled through his own gritted teeth. "It always turns me on when you defy me. My Alpha wants to tame you. Subdue you," he continued in a deep, gravelly voice with a more pronounced accent than usual, and his hand traveled up Dean's spine to the nape of his neck, where he dug his fingers into his hair and gave it a little squeeze. The grip sent a shiver right between his legs and his cock twitched.
"Shit..." he muttered to himself. He was defeated. There was no school, or at least he didn't insist on going to one at the moment.
He grabbed Cas's head and pulled him in for a kiss. The alpha returned the kiss enthusiastically, all questing tongue and hands pulling Dean's shirt off his shoulders. He pulled away from the kiss so Cas could pull it off, pulling his own t-shirt off moments later. Taking advantage of the moment, the alpha pulled his shirt out of his pants and began unbuttoning it from the bottom. Once Dean had his hands free, he added his fingers to the piece, untying his tie with one tug and tossing it to the floor. Then he went to work on the buttons at his neck.
Moments later, Alpha was naked from the waist up. Dean wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him on top of him as he sank down onto the leather padding. Their chests pressed together as the Alpha buried his face in his neck with a growl and latched onto the purple mark he'd made on his shoulder a few days ago. Dean groaned, spreading his legs to welcome Cas between them without thinking. The mixture of aroused Omega and Alpha's scents were everywhere in the air and growing stronger, but while Dean was already hard and his ass was starting to leak, the bulge in Cas's pants that was pressing against his lower abdomen was nowhere near the size it could have been. He moved his hips in encouragement, rubbing their cocks against each other and eliciting a pleasured groan from both of them that turned into a growl from Alpha. He loved the sound. It gave him courage. He moved his hips again while running his hand down Cas's back, stumbling on the leather belt and finally ending up on his perfect ass. He gripped one half of his ass. Damn, it was just as perfectly firm as he'd imagined.
Castiel lifted his head sharply from the crook of Dean's neck, and the expression he wore was one of surprise, but without the slightest hint of disapproval or discomfort. He gave Alpha a grin in return, grabbing the other half of his ass as well and kneading them both nicely. Another growl left Cas's throat, a flash of red in his eyes, and then he nuzzled hungrily against Dean's lips.
He felt Cas's hand slam against his hip and end up right on his cock. He groaned into Alpha's mouth and lifted his hips into a touch that was short-lived. A few swipes of moist fingertips over the straining zipper of his jeans before Cas deftly undid the button and zipper and then, to Dean's displeasure, broke their kiss and lifted himself up.
"Roll over on your stomach."
Dean stiffened. And something cold slid down his spine and dug its ugly claws into his stomach. When he'd said he wanted to wait, he'd meant like weeks, not just days. The idea of having Cas's cock deep in his ass wasn't as abstract as it had been in the beginning, but still all he could think about at the moment was the searing pain in his stretched hole and... and the memory of lying in this exact car, looking up at the same ceiling while listening to the same air conditioning. And Alpha holding him under... no, he didn't want to remember that. Not the part where he felt helpless and thought Cas would do whatever he wanted and not wait for his approval. He preferred to focus on the fact that Castiel actually wanted his approval, cared about him and promised to wait, Dean just had to make himself clear and not think the Alpha would recognize some little hints.
"I don't want you to fuck me yet. I want to wait," he said, his voice a little breathy, and yeah, he could hear a little embarrassment in his words too. He felt stupid for saying 'no', like some shy virgin, but...
"I'm not going to fuck you. Just trust me and lie on your stomach," Cas urged him a little impatiently.
If Cas said he wasn't going to fuck him, he wasn't, but he rolled onto his stomach hesitantly anyway, raising his hips just as unsteadily to allow Alpha to pull down his pants and briefs. The fabric was pulled down to his ankles and his hard cock pressed against the warm leather of the padding. The precum seeping from the tip of his cock stuck his sensitive skin to the seat. This was not a pleasant sensation, so he staggered at first and then lifted his hips off the seat and stood on his knees, legs spread a little to gain his balance. It was a position Cas definitely liked, as he grunted in agreement and grabbed Dean's hips. His inner Omega liked the touch and actually liked the position, but Dean still wasn't entirely sure himself.
He turned his head in an attempt to see what was going on behind him and strained his ears in an attempt to pick up sounds like the clinking of a buckle and the unzipping of a zipper. He wasn't scared, but he was nervous. He was sure Cas wouldn't do anything against his will, but it never did any good when he was in this position and had Alpha behind him.
He licked his lips.
"What do you want to do?"
"Something I've been wanting to do for a long time," came the grumbled reply, and Cas's hands slid down his sides to his butt. He could feel every finger and especially the thumbs that circled the cleft of his ass.
He wanted to ask what he meant, but instead of words, a surprised gasp crossed his lips as Cas's fingers spread his ass. And then a yelp escaped him as something wet and hot touched his hole. Jesus! Fuck! Alpha did it. He just stuck his tongue up his ass. Without a single warning. It was fucking unbelievable. He never thought he was that sensitive in there.
He bit his bottom lip, just fell face onto his hands clenched in the leather of the seat, and thrust his ass against the tongue that lapped at his sensitive rim again and again. He wanted more. He was willing to beg for it, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd be too loud and some of the people in the surrounding cars would hear him. He could only wiggle his hips against the humid heat. Wordlessly begging for more.
And Alpha gave it to him. He licked the entire furrow of his ass nicely from top to bottom and sucked one of Dean's balls into his mouth. By then he couldn't take it anymore. He bent over and screamed.
"That's it, moy sladkay. I want to hear you," he growled into his ass, his hot breath enveloping Dean's soaked hole.
"Alpha... Cas... please..."
"More?"
" Yes... yes..."
Alpha chuckled softly and complied this time as well. His big thumbs dug into Dean's needily clenching ass, spreading his hole apart and plunging a deft tongue into the gaping hole. He was in. He was lapping and sucking at the slick that must have been flowing out of him by the gallons. Dean only grunted. He had Alpha in his ass, but he needed... needed more. His cock was painfully hard and hung unheeded beneath his body. Cas had no way to attend to it, because he literally had both hands in Dean's hole. So he had to take it on himself. He reached under and gripped his own hard, only to be surprised to find his cock wet. It had to be his own slick and Cas's saliva and it was... it was so fucking exciting. He gripped himself tightly and began to stroke roughly in rhythm with his hips moving against Castiel's face and his deft tongue. He wanted more. He needed some more. He could feel the pressure building low in his back and his balls beginning to clench.
He just needed to squeeze a little harder...
His inner muscles clenched in orgasm first and his cock followed suit. With a scream, he sprinkled the seat beneath him.
The wave of the double orgasm left him shuddering. His thighs burned and his hole was sensitive, but Cas kept caressing it with his tongue and rubbing it with his thumbs, prolonging the throbbing waves of receding orgasm that still coursed through Dean's body. He stretched it to the very limit of bearability before finally pulling away, letting go of Dean's slightly sore cheeks and wrapping his arms around his stomach.
The weight of the Alpha was too much for his stretched muscles, so he gave in and dropped his belly to the seat. Castiel rolled out on top of him. His bare chest pressed against his naked back. And a giant hard-on squeezed between his butt cheeks as tightly as the fabric of his expensive pants would allow. But he wasn't overwhelming Dean or weighing him down, supporting himself with his arm so that it was comfortable, his wet lips and equally wet chin pressed against Dean's shoulder.
"Satisfied?" Cas asked huskily into the skin of the back of his neck.
"Yeah... sure... it was perfect," he mumbled back lazily, turning his head as far as he could in an effort to show his satisfied smile.
"Good." He pressed a kiss to his mark. "Now I plan to fuck your thighs. Nothing more, okay? I'm not going anywhere near your hole, so stay calm."
"Uhm... okay... all right..." he agreed, but Alpha's word made him sober up a little and start to realize again what was going on behind him.
Cas pulled his arm out from under his body and stood up a little so he could unzip his pants. The buckle jingled, the belt brushed against Dean's naked ass, the zipper squeaked and the fabric rustled as the Alpha pulled his pants down from his hips. Dean knew what was coming next. He'd done this before with a Beta in Minnesota because he didn't have a condom on him on rare occasions and she wasn't on the pill and didn't want to risk not pulling out in time. He knew he had to put his legs closer together and make a nice, tight, wet, warm space for Alpha's cock. But it still felt strange when the hard, thick length first snaked between his wet thighs and ran over his balls. It was so... impersonal. He got the feeling that this just couldn't be enough for Cas, and maybe he didn't deserve it after what he'd done for Dean. He licked his ass. He should definitely get more in return for the Alpha. It'd be fair.
He suddenly felt really guilty for Castiel giving him so much pleasure and getting so little in return. Especially not getting what every Alpha wanted. His Omega.
"You can fuck me if you want," came out of him to his own surprise. He hadn't planned on offering, but now that it was out in the open, he couldn't take it back.
The slow, regular rhythm of Alpha's thrusts ceased, and his equally regular, loud gasps hitched. There was an impossibly long moment before Cas leaned down to his ear, skin on skin again.
"You want me to fuck you?" He asked in return; Dean was silent because he couldn't say 'yes' and if he lied, Alpha would know it. "I'll take that as a no," Castiel replied to himself, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist to pull him a little closer and adjust their position. "Don't offer what you don't want to give, Dean. Now put your legs closer together."
He brought his legs together to make a tighter imitation of his hole between his thighs. And he turned his head to the side, his gaze fixed on the floor where their discarded outerwear lay. He could feel Alpha's cock sliding between his legs, and the growing knot twitched a little each time he tried to pull himself out of the grip of Dean's thighs. And he listened to the periodic gasps, occasionally turning into whimpers that had nothing to do with passionate lovemaking. It sounded like he was just going for a quick release. He might as well have been doing it with his own hands, or be with someone other than Dean.
He didn't like the idea. He wanted Castiel to know he was here with him. He arched his hips a little awkwardly to meet Cas's next thrust and got exactly the response he wanted; a small gasp. A rueful smile twisted Dean's lips and he did it again. And again.
"You like that... Cas? You like fucking my tight, wet hole?" He asked, his voice deliberately deep and seductive, just the way he could when he wanted to, while listening warily for Cas's reaction. The last time he'd tried to talk to him seductively it hadn't gone well, but this time was different. This time he didn't want to make him fuck him, he just wanted Cas to know who he was with.
"Da... yes... I love your little ass," Cas replied huskily, leaning over him and digging his fingers into his ass so tightly he was sure he'd get prints there. Damn. He liked the idea and it encouraged him to keep going.
"I love your cock. It's so big... I feel so full... I want you to fuck me really hard," he urged him, not only with his words, but by speeding up the movements of his hips and squeezing his legs together so tightly that it was almost impossible for the Alpha to pull his swollen nub out of the small gap between Dean's thighs. "Come on, Alpha... fill me with your knot... I want to feel you inside me. Come on... hurry!"
Alpha sped up his movements, and by the sounds he was making, it was clear he was close. Dean expected him to try to get as deep as he could into the imaginary hole he was fucking. He thought he'd pull him close, but instead Cas came a few more times, then pulled out of the wet space between his thighs, and the next thing Dean knew he felt a warm shower on his back and ass, accompanied by Castiel's guttural moan.
The Omega in him grunted in agreement at the idea that he had just been marked with his Alpha's seed so everyone would know who he belonged to, but rationally he knew it would take a good shower before he could go to school or not go at all. Every Alpha and Omega in the classroom and hallway, classmates and teachers alike, would smell sex, cum and adult Alpha on him. In fact, even the more sensitive Betas could smell it. That wouldn't be good. Not at all. Well, first we needed to wipe.
He sat awkwardly on his heels, or rather tried to, before he realized that the mutt was running down his legs for everything. Dude, he really needed a tissue or something, because he definitely wasn't going to use his own Pink Floyd album t-shirt. Looking around to see if he could see anything, he was only vaguely aware of the creaking of the skin behind his back, and didn't even notice when Cas reached for him, grabbed the back of his head, and started pulling him towards him.
"What the hell...!" He yelped in surprise as he was turned towards him by the Alpha's strength, nearly sliding off the seat in the process.
"Come here."
"Ugh? What...?" Uncomprehendingly, he looked first at Cas's weathered face, lips parted and blue eyes with a red ring around the irises, before dropping his gaze to where the slight pressure on the back of his head urged him. At Alpha's hand, which he ran rhythmically over his obviously still hard cock and the large, reddened knot at its root. It took a moment for it to dawn on him what was going on.
Sure, he knew Alphas could cum three or four times during the knotting process, and he'd seen actors in porn knot the air and come six times, but Cas had never wanted to... OK, he hadn't wanted to until now, but they'd only fucked each other a few times. Dean could hardly say for sure what Castiel liked, what he wanted, or what his performance level was.
"Okay... right... just wait a minute..." he said hurriedly, having to take his hand out of his hair because he needed some space.
Cas grunted in displeasure, but let him go and just watched him from under his closed eyelids as he quickly pulled his pants down his legs. And stroking his hard cock. Dean tried not to look too much in that direction, because the sight was damn exciting and distracted him from his efforts to squeeze between the front seat and the Alpha. Fortunately, the car was big enough for him to fit in, and Cas obligingly made room for him by spreading his legs as wide as the pants dropped at his ankles would allow.
Dean replaced Castiel's hand with his own, leaning forward and confidently swallowing as much of his cock as he could fit in his mouth. The mixture of Alpha's bitterness and his sweet and sour juices was something new, but not unwelcome. He sucked, intensely and greedily, and swirled his tongue over the sensitive tip several times. This little was enough for Cas to dig his fingers into his hair, forcing him to take so much hard meat that he felt the pressure at the back of his palate, and then fill his mouth with another flood. It was less than he was used to and so he swallowed without much difficulty. Finally, Castiel let go of him and with a satisfied exhale, he rolled into the seat.
He let his cock slip out of his mouth, but still held it and watched Alpha curiously, who was panting with his eyes closed. The cock in his hand was still hard, but so was his, really, so that didn't mean anything, and the way Castiel was acting, it looked like he wasn't going to want it again.
"One more time?" He asked, lightly gripping the hard knot that was pressing into his palm.
Cas opened his eyes and smiled lazily.
"No," he replied simply, before grabbing his chin and pressing, urging him to get up. "Come here," he urged him with words as well, and Dean willingly went.
Rising to his knees, he reached across Alpha's bare chest, arms wrapped around his neck, and kissed him hungrily. Cas returned his kiss for a long moment, until they were both nearly out of breath, and then pulled away. They looked into each other's eyes. Alpha's face was so relaxed, a satisfied smile curling the corners of his lips and making deep lines around his mouth and eyes, and Dean found himself enjoying the sight so much that he smiled stupidly. And also that he felt pleasantly malaise as he breathed in their shared scent, laced with the sexually satisfied scent of both Omehga and Alpha.
"You never wanted to double..." he remarked, he just couldn't help but mention it, smiling ruefully as he did so.
"Hmm... net, no, I didn't. Normally I don't cum more than once when I knot the air, but this time…." He ran his thumb over Dean's bottom lip. "I think it was you... your scent... and your nice ass," he added, slapping Dean on his bare cheeks. Dean grinned, but it was a proud grin. "Are you staying with me tonight?" He asked.
The offer was fucking tempting, but he really should go to school. He'd already promised Sam, but... he sucked in air that smelled of sex, his own slick, and Af's cum and told himself he didn't give a shit about school. He didn't have a chance to get that out of him in the washroom and he didn't want to face stupid looks, somebody's bullshit, or even questions from the teachers.
"Yeah, I'll stay," he finally agreed; Castiel's smile widened in pleasure. "But first I need some tissues or something. Got anything?"
This time, the Alpha let out a short, happy laugh, and when he'd laughed enough, he just reached over to the seat between them, opened it, and produced a whole large pack of tissues. At least he did.
The cleaning was quite fast and they managed to wipe the seat so that you could sit on it. Bless the skin, which didn't soak up much liquid. Then Castiel gave the order for Golem to turn the car towards Blue Sky and Dean... well, Dean was damn tired after all that, but somehow pleasantly so. His head was buzzing, his muscles were supple, and he didn't even feel like sitting for nothing when he could stretch out on the seat and rest his head on Alpha's thigh.
Dimly, now that he was on the borderline between wakefulness and sleep, he realized Cas had stiffened for a moment when Dean's head dropped onto his thigh, but then he dug his fingers into his hair and began to run his hands through it. That felt good.
The last thing he heard before the pleasant velvet of sleep surrounded him was someone purring, and his last thought was that it might be his own purring.
°°0°°
With a wink, he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and squinted up at the sky. Even sunglasses didn't properly protect him from the scorching heat of the Miami sun, and gallons of repellent offered no protection from the fucking bloodsucking mosquitoes that circled around them in swarms. He felt one on his neck. He swatted it and looked down at his palm. The small spot of blood gave him a sense of satisfaction. Still; couldn't American mosquitoes be as polite as Russian ones and only fly at night?
He shoved the lollipop back into his mouth, reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and began to wipe the dirt thoroughly from his hand as he watched the thrashing and furiously screaming Beta being tied by his men to metal bars driven deep into the ground. He was from Puerto Rico or something, just a Latino who was called the Fire Coyote, probably from the tattoo of a coyote on fire that he had on his bicep. Or maybe he got the tattoo after he was called the Fire Coyote. No one Gabriel asked could tell him which option was correct. Either way, in a few hours he'd be called Dead Coyote.
He shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and pulled the lollipop out of his mouth again before leaning over to Zeke and asking:
"You don't know what he says?"
Zeke turned his expressionless face toward him and shrugged.
"Is he swearing...?"
"I say you're all going to die! You hear that, Candyman? You're all gonna die like fucking rats!" Coyote yelled, jerking his handcuffs. "And before that you'll be groveling and begging for your lives, you fucking Russians! White pigs! I'll spit and piss on your stinking graves!"
"I finally understand you!" Gabriel shouted excitedly, throwing up his hands. "Why didn't you speak English from the beginning?"
"Fuck you, motherfucker!" Beta growled again and tried to spit at Gabriel. He wouldn't have made it that far even if he hadn't been tied to the ground, but the amount of spit he managed to coat his own Hawaiian shirt with was quite impressive. "My brothers will avenge me! And when they slit your throat, you won't care how they talk to you!"
"Your brothers? You mean these brothers?" He asked, nodding his head at Mischa.
The latter picked up from under the tree the large plastic bag they had brought earlier in the morning, dragged it back, opened it and turned it upside down. Three severed heads rolled out. More accurately, only one was really cut off, the freshest one. The other two had been torn before dawn today from the two already rotting bodies of Coyote's brothers, left in the swamp two and three days ago. Yeah, yeah, decomposition was fast in these parts, and if you were lucky, there'd be nothing left of the corpse within a week. Eaten by mountain lions, crocodiles and alligators, and decomposed by the humidity and the sun.
The coyote stopped thrashing and stared wide-eyed at the heads rolling on the ground.
"I thought you'd want to say goodbye, but dragging whole bodies here would be impractical. Heads are more stackable."
Coyote looked up at him with tear-filled eyes that stared out of a face twisted with rage and grief, and then another stream of Spanish curses gushed out, interspersed with plaintive wailing, appeals to God, and shouts of his brothers' names. Gabriel enjoyed the cacophony for a moment before he grew bored and motioned for his men to continue.
With some difficulty, Fedot picked up the prepared bucket, removed the cloth Gabriel had used to cover it so that the wretches and wretches inside would not die in the Miami sun, and walked over to Coyote, whereupon he looked at Gabriel. He savored the moment of tension and the way the bound Beta began to struggle even more and looked like he was going to kick the Fedot, then he motioned judiciously with his lollipop.
Fedot swung as hard as the weight of the bucket would allow and dumped the contents all over Coyote's body. More than two hundred of the hunger-shrunken leeches landed on Beta's exposed chest, on his shorts-clad legs, and a few landed on his face. They flicked and rustled wetly as they crawled over Coyote's body. Beta's eyes widened in horror and disgust, and even remained completely silent for a few brief seconds before he began to scream and thrash and swear some more.
Gabriel watched with a smile, not only at his previously lost battle, but more importantly at the little creatures that immediately set about doing what nature had created them to do. They bit hungrily into Coyote's exposed skin, but they also crawled under his clothes, looking for the best places to latch on.
"Do you think this will work?" Zeke asked the Russian.
Gabriel just shrugged.
"Who knows..." he admitted that he had no idea if his plan to have the Coyote eaten by leeches would actually work, but it was definitely fun to try and especially to watch. "If the leeches don't eat him, the alligators will, and if the alligators don't kill him, the sun sure will."
He popped the lollipop into his mouth, sucked hard, and enjoyed the taste of the oranges as he watched Coyote's resistance slowly fade. Hmm... he'd thought it would be more fun, but Beta had taken his fight too soon. Well, there was nothing to be done. He was meeting Kali at their favorite restaurant anyway, so it was time to head towards the city. The journey would take over an hour.
"Pack it up, boys, and don't forget to put those heads together nicely before we leave here. We're not barbarians to just leave them lying around," he ordered his men, shoving the lollipop back in his mouth and heading for the nearby rutted road where his limo was parked.
Zeke matched his pace and opened the back door when they reached the car. Gabriel stepped into the pleasant coolness of the air conditioning and leaned back comfortably while Zeke instructed the driver to take them to the Black Pearl. Moments later, Zeke sat across from him and the limo started moving. Almost at the same moment, Gabriel's phone began to ring. He pulled it out and raised his eyebrows in a bit of surprise when he saw who he was getting a video call from.
"Hey, Clavo!" He greeted cheerfully, but before he could say more, another stream of annoyed Spanish spewed out of the speaker, as if he hadn't enjoyed it enough a moment ago.
And Clavo's face was all anger, and real, Alpha anger at that. His eyes were red and his fangs bared, which made his words even less intelligible to Gabriel than if he'd just cursed in his native language.
"Wait! Wait!" He interrupted, or at least tried to. "I can't understand a single word you're saying. Pull your fangs and speak English."
The other Alpha responded with a furious snarl in which he showed not only his fangs, but perhaps all of his molars, and which turned almost into an Alpha roar, whereupon he hissed and pulled his fangs back with a gasp, his eyes almost changing color back to their usual brown. Only the warning strip around the iris remained.
"Castiel fucks Alastair!!" He barked through clenched teeth.
Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Nonsense. Alastair's not his type. He likes tall, well-built, muscular ones. Alastair is a noodle with eyes."
"Don't fuck with me, Candyman!" Clavo growled, baring his teeth again, though he left the fangs in his gums. "I know very well they've made some new deal. If the Russians start working with Alastair, our alliance will be over, do you understand? It will end and war will begin! And you don't want me as an enemy!"
That didn't sound good. He really didn't want a war with Clavo and his cartel.
Gabriel had been in Miami for eight years, so he still remembered when Clavo's father ran the cartel, and how much money and people they had lost to the years of war. When Cassie and Clavo had hit it off, and then Clavo had killed his daddy and taken over all his power, it had been like a fucking miracle. It only took a few days to draw clear lines between their territories, divide up the import routes, agree on a distribution list, and build an alliance that held together for two years. And two years was a lot, especially here in Miami, where the average maturity of the agreements between the gangs was the same as the average lifespan of a new club; with luck, two exuberant months.
Cassi had been the biggest contributor, because Clavo had liked him for who knew why from the very beginning, so much so that Gabriel had suspected for a moment if there was something more behind their friendship. Something hidden behind all the wildly cheerful smiles and arms thrown around each other's shoulders. Eventually he even asked his little brother about it, earning him an icy stare and a comment that just because he was gay didn't mean he had to fuck every pretty boy in the area. But even though he hadn't slept with Clavo, it sounded pretty unlikely that his younger brother would betray Clavo and get involved with Alastair of all people. The hatred on Clavo's side stemming from Alastair being a friend of his daddy's and the resentment on Castiel's side was one of the things that kept the two together.
"Castiel has his reasons for doing what he does," he replied, of course not letting on that he had no idea what his stupid little brother was up to in New York and why. "If you want to know them, you should call him. He's your best friend."
The other Alpha was not pleased with the answer.
"I'm calling you because you'll be the one to pay for Castiel's betrayal. Remember that!" Clavo spat, first figuratively and then literally, cutting the call off.
Gabriel frowned at the dark screen. He needed to find out if there was any truth to Clavo's information, and if so, he needed to know why Cassi had chosen to work with Alastair in particular. He couldn't find out either from his comfortable home.
"Have you ever been to Time Square, Zeke?" He flicked an eye at his Lieutenant.
"No, never."
"Then I think it's time you looked into New York."
Notes:
Der'mo! Merzkaya malen'kaya krysa! Ya by khotel pererezat' yemu gorlo, kak der'movoy, pyl'noy sobake! - Shit! Nasty little rat! I wish I could cut his throat like a shitty, dusty dog!
sumasshedshiy - madman, lunatic, lose one's mind...
Shortly after Gabriel came to Miami and took over the business, he met a group of drug traffickers. When the drug traffickers saw him, they joked that he was not a "candyman" in the sense of a dealer, but a real "candyman", a candy seller. Gabriel does give that impression. He is small and seemingly fragile for an Alpha, he smiles and jokes a lot, he is very friendly, always in a good mood and of course he is always eating candy and giving it away. The nickname "Candyman" was supposed to be an insult... Unfortunately for those who wanted to insult Gabriel, he is a really big Christina Aguilera fan and took to his new nickname immediately.
Needless to say, no one laughs at Candyman now.
Chapter 40
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He put his hand on the cold bar of the railing and sipped from his beer as he watched Sophie and Aaron just walk into Blue Sky and make their way to the bar. His gaze slid briefly from them to Balthazar, who greeted them warmly, and then to Matthew, who was sitting at the bar. He had come to the club after almost five months and oddly enough, he was looking for Castiel right away, which was a little surprising considering how they had parted ways. Matthew, who went by his middle name here at Blue Sky; Will, used to be a regular at least five times a week and he and Castiel had quickly hit it off. And they had spent several pleasant nights in Matthew's apartment, full of fucking bordering on fighting. Matt was the kind of Alpha who was happy to bend over for another Alpha, but he wasn't going to give himself away for free, and Castiel liked that. After a few good nights, he dropped off Castiel's radar and stopped going to Blue Sky as well because he married a young Omega woman. Now it looked like he wanted to build on their little acquaintance, and from what he could tell from looking over to the bar, there would still be a lot to be had, but Castiel felt almost no interest. His Alpha was surprisingly satiated by a full day in Dean's company, even if he hadn't tied Omega up once. Just being in his presence was enough. To breathe in his scent, to enjoy the steady stream of commentary on the few episodes of Game of Thrones they'd watched together - even if Dean had given away half the plot in advance by doing so - and to watch his green eyes sparkle as he appreciated the small, sharp fangs in his cheerful smile and the freckles on his cheeks stand out when he laughed or blushed. Dean was like a ray of sunshine or cheerful music that echoed through his lair, and gave it a touch of home.
The memories brought a small smile to his face. He took another sip when he caught out of the corner of his eye that the door opened and one of the waitresses walked in, leading Pyotr behind her. That was unexpected. In theory, Beta didn't have access because he wasn't a member, but in practice any of his Lieutenants could come up here to see Castiel. Aside from Oleg, who spent several afternoons a week at Blue Sky, not many of his men came here, and Pyotr was no exception. And while he came to Blue Sky several times, he never brought good news. Castiel didn't expect it to be any different this time.
He strode to meet his Lieutenant and placed his free hand on his shoulder to greet him. Beta returned the greeting by clasping the upper arm Castiel had placed on his shoulder, lowering his head and gaze slightly in a polite nod.
"Pyotr... my friend..."
"Boss..." the hulking Beta nodded in return, his expression uncertain.
"You never go to Blue Sky. What happened?"
"I'm not bringing good news. Maybe," he shot a brief glance toward the seats, "we should sit down."
He tilted his head slightly to the side and squinted, taking in Pyotr's scent, but it was so overlaid with a strong perfume that he could detect almost nothing. His expression was serious and a little worried, though. The only way to find out what he wanted was to listen to him
"Get some more beer," he ordered the waitress named Crystal before motioning to the sofa and going to sit on it himself.
Pyotr sat down next to him.
"Is this about Alastair and our plans for him?"
"No, not really," Pyotr replied, taking the glass of ale from the waitress and just wetting his lips in it before setting it down on the glass table. "I got a call from the Den."
Castiel raised an eyebrow slightly. The Den was a nickname for a duplex apartment in a better neighborhood, near the heart of their territory, inhabited by a pair of hired hackers who did everything from apps like River to finding information on persons of interest and hacking into police and federal databases to hiding money for them. He never met them personally. It was Pyotr's job to keep an eye on them, and he said those two were worth all the money that went into the 'Den'.
"Remember how John Winchester had several identities that we were able to link to him and then follow their electronic trail?" Beta asked; Castiel tilted his head just a little and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "One of them seems to have literally disappeared overnight. It looks like someone went to great lengths to carefully hide even the slightest trace. I hear it's not unusual, except..."
"Why would anyone go to all that trouble to hide a false identity belonging to Winchester when he's dead. And what a coincidence that he did it just a few dozen hours after his supposed death," he finished for him, knowing full well where Pyotr was going.
John Winchester was alive.
The realization immediately brought his Alpha to attention. Old Winchester was a lousy Alpha and father who left his pups alone, even his family's only Omega. The fact that Dean was strong, brave, predatory, and completely independent and able to take care of himself and his brother played no part at all. The man was always responsible for his family. It was his moral and God given duty to take care of it. And when a man failed himself, his honor, or those who trusted him, it was the family who paid the debt. Therefore, a man, especially if he was Alpha, had to be strong, keep his promises and his word, and protect his family. John Winchester didn't do any of that, but... he was still Dean's father and his bloodline Alpha. Blood wasn't water, and a kindred family scent was a real thing. John Winchester was the only Alpha in the world that Castiel and his inner Alpha were truly afraid would take his Omega away from him.
John Winchester had to die unconditionally, but apparently that was easier said than done.
"Yes," Pyotr nodded. "A dead man doesn't need a secure false identity or to cover his tracks." As he said this, a shudder of anger broke through the strong scent. "And that's not all... we don't know for sure yet, but the men Alastair sent after him seem to have vanished off the face of the earth, much like Winchester's false identity. It almost looks like they're eating dirt. At least that's my opinion," Beta said. "Alastair's a shit of a cunt, but he knows how to find the proper people, and I'm sure he wouldn't spare any money on old Winchester. Who the fuck is this guy?"
He leaned back in the corner of the couch, stretched his legs out comfortably, clasped his hands together, and his gaze wandered off into the distance.
Yes, who the fuck was Winchester? A failed man who'd lost not only the social standing that was appropriate for an Alpha, he'd lost literally everything. He was drowning in debt, had no home, no lair, no territory and had probably killed his wife and Omega mate or at the very least was guilty of her death because he had failed to do what was the duty of every husband; protect his wife.
But he wasn't always like that.
From what his people have been able to find about old Winchester, he had a near perfect childhood. His Alpha father may have died when he was only six years old, but his Omega mother had managed to get over her mate's death and mated with another Alpha, a Marine who had been a good mentor to John Winchester, even though he was a soldier. Dean's father had been a model student, captain of the football team at the small town school, a smiling face with a prom king's crown peering out from the front page of the school yearbook. He joined the Marines his senior year of high school and had an exemplary career, which he ended with an honorable discharge. He married Mary Campbell, an equally exemplary blonde Omega from a good family, they bought a house with a garden on the mortgage, had two puppies together, and bought a dog. Life was perfect for the Winchester family until November 2, 2011, when someone murdered Mary Winchester and then, after leading little Dean and his brother out of the house, set the entire house on fire. Precisely because the two Winchester puppies survived the huge fire in their house, the police thought the killer was old Winchester himself, who murdered his mated companion either out of jealousy or in a burst of Alpha's rage and then wanted to cover up his tracks. It made perfect sense to Castiel, and it fit exactly into the picture he had of Winchester, but... after the lengths he'd gone to elude them, the fact that he'd managed to rob Alastair of something really important and then liquidate his men... he had to admit that Winchester was good. Fucking good. And he didn't even have to think about when and where he learned to be this good. A year's worth of blank space on his military record spoke for itself, and it was Castiel's fault entirely for underestimating Winchester.
The question was, what to do about it now?
"I want Winchester dead, but I can't rely on Alastair again. I doubt he'll even admit he failed."
"Shall I send our men after him?" Pyotr offered.
"No," he refused immediately, though it was a tempting offer. "No trail from his corpse can lead to me. Besides, I've already wasted too many of our resources."
"Not a problem," the burly Beta objected immediately.
"It is a problem for me. I'm not a Pugal. I will not use my position to achieve private agendas. The Bratva is above all, even my Omega," he uttered firmly, though it was not in line with what his Alpha felt. It was, however, in line with the position Castiel held. He wasn't going to put his Dean above his loyalty to the Brotherhood, not again. It was enough that he was going to raise hell in this town for him, and the fact that it was also to the Brotherhood's benefit and his Lieutenants were fully on his side didn't change that. He remained loyal to his brothers, if for no other reason than he didn't want to end up like Medvedev; rotting in a shallow grave "I'll take care of Winchester myself," he decided.
The burly Beta immediately straightened up, causing him to pull away a little, and looked warily at Castiel.
"You mean... you personally?" He asked cautiously, and who knew why there was a hint of concern in his voice.
Castiel turned his head towards him, then tilted it slightly to the side and met his Lieutenant's gaze. There was no reason for Pyotr to be afraid of the Ice Lark right now. He had literally been born to their lives, it was in his blood, and he was deeply devoted to everything the Brotherhood stood for, but he probably wouldn't be happy to see the Lark return either. Or at least, Gabriel claimed that when Castiel settled into his new, higher rank and left his career as an executioner for the Brotherhood, many of the 'acquaintances' were relieved, and most of them spat behind Castiel's back three times as well to ensure he never came back. And Pyotr was, after all, a direct participant in the latest purge here in New York. He was literally the one who removed the bodies of high ranking officers like Bartholomew.
"No, not me personally for now," he replied, to Beta's visible relief. "But I am contacting an old friend. He has favorable prices, too."
"I understand. How much should I have prepared?"
"I'll pay for it out of my share. Like I said, it's my problem," he emphasized a second time, letting a slight growl slip into his voice to make it clear that further offers of help would not be welcome.
Pyotr ducked his head obediently, indicating that he understood, but did not look satisfied. Castiel was grateful to him for wanting to help protect Dean, in fact he was grateful to him for liking his Omega so much. It gave him confidence that if anything happened to him, Dean would have someone by his side to protect him in the future. So he reached out and clasped the burly Beta's shoulder in a friendly squeeze.
"But thank you for your willingness and help. I appreciate you taking care of my Dean," he thanked him, a low growl sounding in his voice.
Beta looked up again, and a polite smile spread his lips, though there was genuine friendly warmth in his eyes.
"If I may be so bold as to say so, batyushka.." he intoned, and when Castiel only tilted his head in silence, he continued, "You deserve young Dean Jankovich for all you've done here. Everyone deserves a little love, and when he gets the chance... he should grab it hard."
His eyebrows shot up and his corners twitched in a smile.
"You're a fucking romantic, my friend," he quipped, then slid his gaze to the side as he considered Pyotr's words. About love. Was what he felt for Dean really love? He wasn't sure what love actually looked like. He knew that Dean was his Mate and that his Alpha really only wanted him. He wanted to mate him, to saddle him with a litter of puppies, to have him in his pack, by his side, for the rest of his life. He wants to own him. Was that love? It was definitely something that made Castiel do crazy things, like trust without reservation. Something dangerous for him and everyone around him.
"Love... love is a dangerous thing, isn't it?"
"Danger is our life."
He shot him a look. Beta was right about that, danger was their life and when taken around and around, his Omega was actually dangerous too. Considering his father, perhaps more dangerous than it seemed at first glance. And maybe the primal potential he saw in him was even greater than he thought. The thought filled him with a wave of vanity, and his Alpha shut down to his full height, proud and majestic. His Species was even stronger than it had yet shown itself to be, and yet Castiel had him firmly in his grasp. He was able to break him down into a moaning mess begging for another touch, had him curled up at his side and gained so much of his trust that Dean fell asleep on his lap with a low growl. Once they were mated, it would just be the pinnacle of everything, and their children...
A cheerful growl escaped his chest to Pyotr's mild surprise.
"Can you imagine, my friend?" He asked, gripping his shoulder even tighter. "Can you imagine the puppies Dean and I will have?" He asked, each word laced with a possessive growl. "John Winchester isn't the best Alpha father, but you have to hand it to him; he's a strong Alpha at his core. He's got good genes, good blood. He comes from generations of Alphas and Omegas, and he sired an Omega like my Dean; strong and dominant, not one to be owned by just anyone. Our puppies will be perfect whether they are Alphas or Omegas. They will be perfect successors..."
"... Constantine's bloodline," Pyotr finished for him.
That wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. He never liked being compared to his Alpha father because he was trying to be different than him. Different than his brothers. Or at least he was different in some ways. But the fact remained that Constantine had a reputation in Mother Russia. People feared him so much that they learned to love and respect him rather than expose themselves to his wrath. And anyone of his blood got long, wary stares in the back, no matter whether he had already made a name for himself or was a Recruit who was still doing the most menial jobs and living in the worst shithole in Moscow that one could imagine. Castiel knew this firsthand. That was why he jumped at the chance to leave Moscow and start elsewhere, under the name Bogdanovich.
But he didn't blame Pyotr for being so afraid of Constantine, even ten years after his death. Everyone feared him.
"Yes. Yes, exactly," he agreed neutrally, taking his hand away from Beta's shoulder. "We've got this sorted out. Drink with me now. I could use some company to distract me today."
"I appreciate the offer, boss, but I need to hit the sheets. If that's okay..." sighed Beta, genuinely disappointed.
"Yes, of course. I won't keep you..." He offered his right hand.
Pyotr clasped it in a firm grip that suited his reliable personality, then covered his wrist with the palm of his other hand and finally, much to Castiel's surprise, leaned down to kiss the wing tattoo on his middle finger. He hadn't done that since the unfortunate incident at the docks.
"God bless you, Ivan Constantinovich.
"God bless you too..." he replied automatically, a little confused by Pyotr's behavior. He had always been a warm hearted man, but he maintained certain boundaries of politeness that Castiel accepted and did not try to overcome. Why should he? But lately, the burly Beta seemed to be slipping past that line more often and more readily than he used to.
Squeezing his hand, he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side as he sucked in air deeply, only to be pinched by a strong perfume with undertones of the sea and... was that a hint of rotting fish in his nose? He wasn't sure, but there was something about it that he'd never smelled on Pyotr.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes, boss, everything's fine," Beta assured him, letting go of his hand and rising to his feet. "Enjoy the rest of your evening and good night."
"Good night."
Beta nodded one last time, turned and headed for the door. He was a few steps away when he turned back and asked:
"What time do you want me to call the guys in?"
"We discussed all the essentials a few days ago."
"Don't you plan to inform Gabriel Constantinovich of our plans for Alastair?" Pyotr asked in confusion, as if assuming Castiel had planned to do so.
While he wasn't going to keep anything from his brother, after all it involved him as well since they were members of the Grand Council, there was no reason to inform him until the plans were imminent. He certainly had enough to do in his own territory. Miami was not as stable as New York. And while the Russians had deep roots there, and their alliance with Clavo was strong, Gabriel had to deal with the constantly shifting relationships between small factions, especially from Latin America. He didn't need Castiel distracting him with events in New York.
"I do, but there's nothing to inform him of for now."
"Ah... I thought that's why you invited him."
Invited him? There was no way he'd invited his brother to the city, and when he and Gabriel had spoken two days ago, his brother hadn't mentioned to him that he planned to come. That was so typical of his older brother. He was always looking for ways to unsettle Castiel and showing up unexpectedly was one of the least creative and oldest ones Gabriel knew. Apparently, his stupid older brother had forgotten that Castiel was no longer a loner enjoying his semi-forced isolation in a large house in Moscow that he could sneak up on in the middle of the night unnoticed. And nearly getting his head blown off in the process. Now Castiel had his men around him, making sure that no one unauthorized or uninvited could get to him; Gabriel largely excluded.
"I want to introduce Dean," he replied, not letting on that he was unaware of his brother's visit. Besides... with Gabriel here, there was no harm in actually introducing Omega.
"I understand." Pyotr gave him a knowing smile. "I'll be going now... Good night again," Beta said goodbye for the second time, and this time he actually left.
Castiel waited for the door to close behind Beta, requested a gin and tonic from the waitress, and only after she too had left did he pull out his cell phone, hesitating briefly as to whether he should text or call Gabriel. In the end, he decided to wait to see what his brother had in store for him and instead dialed a completely different number.
After three rings, the polite voice of a young woman answered:
"Styne and Sons Funeral Home. Full funeral services. We will take care of your deceased loved ones with dignity and respect and ensure that the final farewell is dignified. Ania Styne speaking. I'm very sorry for your loss. How can I help you?"
"Tell Mr. Monroe Styne that a Russian friend from Dublin wants to speak to him."
There was a short, hesitating silence on the other end.
"I understand, sir. I'll tell Alpha Styne," she informed him. There followed another pause, a little longer, filled with generic music suggesting a mournful atmosphere, before the secretary spoke again, "I'll put you through," she said, and a moment later Monroe's familiar voice sounded:
"I didn't think you'd ever contact me, Alpha Karpov."
"I didn't think I'd ever contact you either, but I have a business proposition for you."
"I suppose it's an offer of a special kind."
"Yes. And it's probably a job for the whole Family."
"We don't often have family projects. It's not usually necessary. But if you say it's a family project, I'm really interested."
"I'll call you tomorrow and we'll set up a meeting place. And Styne... congratulations on your new daughter-in-law," he added before ending the call without saying goodbye.
Then he reached for his gin and tonic, rolled back onto the sofa and took a sip.
Notes:
The chapter is so short because the next one is going to be long.
Castiel changes his mind about John as time goes on. At first he thought he was a total loser, now he's attributing some positives to him.
If you get the impression that Pyotr is getting nicer and nicer to Castiel, you're not wrong. I'm quite curious to see if anyone can guess the reason. :-)
Chapter 41
Notes:
I have a few notes...
1. It's unbelievable, but I've been publishing WS for a year now. The most surprising thing about it is that I still enjoy writing. :-D
2. If you like Gabriel, you should know in advance that he is as corrupt and bad person, like Castiel..
3. Pyotr is very unhappy about how badly you think of him and that you consider him a traitor. (And no, no one has guessed the real reason for his soft behaviour. :-) )
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He rolled over onto his stomach and groaned into the pillow. Unconsciously, he moved his hips against the other pillow, which got between his legs without even knowing how. Fuck it! His cock stood and his ass flowed, clenching with need. He couldn't sleep through this, even though he tried his best, because they had that damn math test tomorrow. He had to give up.
He didn't bother to turn over or take off his pants, he just pulled his pants down to his knees and lifted his hips high enough to grip his cock with one hand while the other strayed to his ass. He ran his finger over his hole a few times, smearing his juices all over the cleft of his ass before slowly plunging his finger right in.
The pillow stifled his next groan.
This was it. He needed this so damn badly. He craved something in his ass like never before. He rocked his hips against his finger and then back into his hand. And so again and again. He rocked his hips back and forth, imagining Cas kneeling behind him, holding his hips, his big Alpha cock sliding between his stitches, the hot head of his cock twitching at the rim of his wet hole. He imagined it would feel good if Cas's cock broke through the tight ring of muscle and got inside the places he couldn't reach with his finger. On his sensitive inner walls. He thought about how that wide, hard length would stretch him and how hot Alpha's cock would be inside his body. How it would slide in and out...
"Shit... Alpha... Cas...!" He groaned into the pillow at the same moment his ass clenched and a warm stream of cum rolled over his hand.
The orgasm was quick, much quicker than the one from Castiel's hands, and that's why it was gone just as quickly. Dean felt satisfied, more or less. Enough to pull his finger out of his ass and reach for the pile of tissues on the nightstand to clean up the mess. But certainly not as satisfied as he might have been if Castiel had taken his cock in mouth and shoved fingers up his ass. And his Omega grumbled in displeasure, for it was unfair that he had to jerk off so far from his Alpha. And it also seemed sort of... wrong. As if he'd denied his Alpha the right to pump him full of puppies or some such shit that had emerged from the deepest bowels of his Omega brain. Just stupid. He didn't need Cas to do well, and he didn't need his permission in any way, it was just... he wanted him here.
He threw his handkerchief on the floor, pulled up his pants, fell onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling where the city lights, coming through the curtains, painted strange patterns.
Great... he thought wryly. He felt even more awake now than before.
The rattling of the front door lock reached his ear through the open bedroom door.
His hand reaching for the gun safely hidden between the pillows that lined the headboard was quicker than the thought of pulling it out at all. He gripped the gun and slipped out of bed. Quietly, he crept to the door, always ajar so that the crack was large enough for him to look out, but not so large that anyone outside could see him. And he looked out.
The front door opened.
The light from the hallway cast the silhouettes of three people on the floor, and the apartment was filled with the loud laughter of two women and one man, but he was definitely not Castiel. He couldn't see the guy's face well from a distance because of the light in his back, but he was a foot shorter than Dean's Alpha. He was smaller than Dean. Hell, maybe even smaller than Sam. He was definitely outnumbered by the two women he'd brought with him.
Sam...
He quickly slid his gaze to his door. In the gloom, he wasn't sure if it was open, but it was likely enough. His little brother was as light a sleeper as Dean and just as well prepared. He had his own gun under his pillow, a knife right next to it, plus training that taught him to stay calm, arm himself, and survey the situation. And Dean was sure that was exactly what the little Alpha was doing now, though it didn't quiet his inner Omega, who was barking and growling furiously, ready to protect his pup.
"Small, but cuddly. Like me!"
He recognized the Russian accent immediately, regardless of the fact that the man's voice was higher and softer than Castiel's, and his accent was much weaker. One of their people? Was that possible? No, more likely not. He didn't know any of Cas's men who had the balls to walk into Alpha's apartment... the apartment he'd set up for Dean... and still bring two women with him. And even if it happened to be one of Castiel's men, Dean didn't give a shit. He was an intruder in his nest. Even another one in a short time. His Omega just growled furiously, urging him not to fuck with it, just break down the door and bite the bastard's throat. He was protecting the puppy. He was protecting Sammy.
But his brain warned him that it might be someone Castiel knew after all. It was actually quite likely, and even if he had no business being in the apartment, he couldn't just kill or shoot him.
Suddenly, his phone rang behind him.
Shit!
He had no other chance now.
Driven by his instincts, which he was in control of, he pushed the door open. His elbow hit the light switch, which fortunately was just outside the bedroom door. The ceiling lights instantly flared up, blinding anyone who hadn't expected them to come on.
Dean took a firm stance, his gun pointed directly at the man's chest, while he took a careful look at him and the women he'd brought with him.
The guy was definitely shorter than Dean, but older than him. Much older, so Castiel's age. He had overgrown light brown hair that desperately needed a haircut now, and it was a bit wavy, as if they couldn't decide whether to keep it in curls or keep it slicked back. He wasn't fat or anything, but the white, obviously expensive shirt was already covering a soft belly, and the black pants certainly didn't help hide the fact that he needed to take a couple of sit-up in the morning. The white boots he was wearing looked ridiculously expensive, and the gold watch that exactly matched Cas's tastes didn't match the boots at all.
He was clutching two women in short dresses around his waist. One was a black woman with an athletic figure in red velvet, and the other was a slender ginger in a gold sequined knee-length dress. Both were really beautiful, nicely shaped hips, medium sized boobs, slim waists and long legs accentuated by high heels. They both carried handbags just big enough for their cell phones and smelled like Betas, but too intense and thick. They must have used something to enhance the scent. That meant they wanted to hunt down Alpha for tonight. After all, with scent enhancers, it was easier for Betas to get into some Alpha's pants or between the legs of some pretty Omega female.
And the guy who came with the Betas was definitely an Alpha, despite his short height.
His smell, cashew nuts and very expensive rum, was strong, intense and as dominant as Castiel's. Forcing Dean's Omega to crouch back a little, but not retreat. Hell no. It didn't matter how dominant this Alpha was, or how much of a knothead he probably was, or how strangely familiar his scent was. He wasn't going to let him near Sam's door.
He pulled back his upper lip and bared his fangs, his gaze fixed squarely on the Alpha's green-brown eyes. And he growled a low, warning growl. He knew his stance and his scent, including the way he stared into Alpha's eyes, was a warning, saying; Omega protecting his pup! Stay away! And he hoped that this guy wasn't too much of a knothead, choosing to ignore the warning. He didn't want to stain the carpet with his blood. He didn't want to shoot anyone again. And if this was some friend of Cas's, he didn't want any trouble from sending him to the hospital.
Maybe he should just aim for his knee. Yeah, that's probably for the best.
He lowered the barrel slightly toward his knee while slowly making his way toward the stranger, forcing him and the two Betas back into the room, making his own way to both Sam's bedroom and the door to the hallway.
"Okay, asshole. Hands up where I can see them! And then you'll tell me who the fuck you are? And what are you doing in my nest?" He growled through bared teeth, deliberately using the word 'nest' to make it clear enough to Alpha that this was his fucking home and he would not tolerate anyone coming in here and getting too close to Sammy. It didn't matter that he didn't really feel that way, and he knew full well that this apartment belonged to Alpha Castiel alone. He wasn't here and neither was his scent and this Alpha, whoever the hell he was, had only seen Omega and that, Dean realized, meant little. At least he was an Omega with a big gun and a lot of rage.
"Ouh..." the Alpha made a surprised sound, letting go of the women who stopped giggling and looked worriedly at the barrel of the gun pointed at all three of them. They didn't seem genuinely afraid though, more confused, which was exactly what their scent betrayed. With the scent enhancer forcing their beta scent glands to produce more pheromones, it was much easier to read them even at this distance. Of course, who Dean could read even without the boosters was the Alpha, and the bastard not only wasn't scared, he wasn't even worried or really surprised. In fact, he smelled perfectly calm, as if he'd had a gun pointed at him a hundred times before - it was quite likely that he had - and when he raised his hands, he did so casually, as if it was more of a fun game than anything else. An amused smile graced his face, and he ran his eyes down Dean's body with a clearly appraising look. Then his nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath of air. Once, twice, and a third time, whereupon his smile widened even more, and one corner of his lips lifted as he showed a hint of his fangs. And his gaze slid briefly behind Dean's back to the bedroom door.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He'd completely forgotten what he'd been doing just a few minutes ago. He must have smelled like a horny Omega, all cum and slick. It must have been coming from his room too. And Alpha could smell it, of course, and judging by the musky scent wafting under the sweet smell of cashews, he fucking loved it.
Dean adjusted his grip on his gun slightly, swallowed, and tried to calm his heart, which was skipping a little. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd been near a horny Knot.
"What's going on here, Gabe?" The beta in the red dress asked.
"Looks like we got into the wrong apartment, ladies," the Alpha said as if nothing had happened, letting his hands drop to his sides, though he still kept them clearly visible, and then stepped toward Dean. "But that's no big deal, is it little Omega? Put that stupid gun down, you're just scaring everyone unnecessarily and hurting yourself. And then we'll just go, what do you say?"
"Not going to happen," came a voice from Dean's right.
His little brother stood in the open doorway of his room, holding his gun just as confidently pointed at Alpha, staring at the intruder with his lips parted slightly to show his fangs. But from the smell, he was perfectly calm, even, to Dean's small surprise, he didn't smell a hint of fear, and that he was far more sensitive to his brother's scents than any stranger.
"Oh... there's another one with a big gun," the fucker remarked amusedly, and the sweet cashew scent intensified, as if he was having a good time or what the hell? Who could be joking about two guns pointed at him? Okay, the guns were technically almost held by puppies, but... hey! A 9mm is gonna blow a hole in your head whether it's held by a toddler or an old man. At least this unknown Alpha stopped approaching and raised his hands again.
"Yeah, there's another one with a big gun. So why don't you finally answer me who the hell you are? And what are you doing in my house?"
"I'm Gabriel," he replied, suddenly without the cheerful tone, as if maybe just his name meant something big.
"And...?" He asked in return. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? If it does, buddy, I'm going to let you down. You're not Madonna or Lady Gaga, so sorry, I have no idea who you are and I don't care. You walked into my apartment and I have every right in this country to blow you away just for crossing the threshold uninvited," he growled, taking a step forward. "Now you three sit down on that couch over there and I'll call my Alpha to consult him on where to dump your bodies when I send a bullet to your head."
This time, little tendrils of the smell of fear slowly began to trail from the silent Beta women. Whoever they were... hookers probably... had some experience with when things went to hell, but here they were fucking things up a little more than they expected. They were probably starting to figure out before the stupid Alpha that Dean was serious... well, not really seriously, he didn't want to kill anyone personally, but he was willing to shoot if necessary and he was willing to let Castiel take care of the problem. He wasn't happy about it, but he was sort of... getting used to it.
"You're a bitter bite, aren't you?" Alpha asked again, amused.
"You can't imagine... Alpha," he drawled mockingly, gesturing slightly with his gun towards the seat. "Now shut up and sit down."
"You'd better be careful," Sam addressed him, hearing him slowly approach from the right. He didn't meet his gaze though, he wasn't about to let the unknown Alpha who introduced himself as Gabriel out of his sight and he wasn't about to let anything distract him, including his brother or the weight of the pointed gun he was already starting to feel. "Look at his hand..."
He let his gaze drop to Alpha's upraised hands. On the left, beneath the gold watch, a piece of the familiar barbed wire tattoo stuck out, the end of it extending towards his thumb. Besides it, he had a tattoo of wings on the back of his hand. It was much larger than Cas's, indeed his Alpha only had a finger wrapped with it, but it was of the exact same design. So yeah, it was obvious by that that it was somehow connected to his Alpha, but that didn't mean he was planning on putting the gun down. Maybe it was a mistake, but damn... after the Alastair shit, he just had to defend himself.
"Yeah, I can see that. Same wings..." he muttered.
"Not only that. He's like... Castiel," that was probably the first time Sam had used Cas's chosen name and not the stupid real one, and he said it so urgently that Dean shot him a look.
That was a school mistake. The alpha took advantage of it and moved forward, probably with the intention of taking Dean's gun, because he wasn't going to bite him. There was no growl, no pricing of fangs or red eyes, just a hand reaching for the barrel.
He growled through gritted teeth and raised the gun so that the Alpha had it pointed right between his eyes, which actually did stop him, as if he'd finally realized that Dean wasn't joking or making false threats.
"Back off, buddy!"
"Whoa! Whoa!" Alpha threw up his hands and backed up a step. "Take it easy, all right. I can see now, puppy, that you're serious, and I can also see that you have an idea who I am, so how about we let the ladies go and talk it over? They're just doing their jobs here. They can leave now. They're not going anywhere talking about what they saw."
He glanced at the Beta women who were now standing behind Alpha's back, and while they still didn't look completely terrified, they weren't at ease either. He looked at the pretty black woman who returned his gaze and then at the other one who seemed to have stepped back behind her friend and actually averted her eyes. Yeah, she was a little more worried. Still, it was clear they were already past people waving guns, which meant this Gabriel was telling the truth in that they weren't going to talk. Okay, that was what he was worried about. Sort of. What to do about Betas if he had to kill the Alpha, or maybe just get shot or something else went wrong. Because he couldn't have them telling anyone about it.
This way he could let them go.
"Fine. Let them go," he finally agreed, because, shit, he didn't want anyone else innocent to die because of him, and the fact that they were prostitutes didn't change the fact.
The alpha lowered his hands again and it looked like he was reaching into his pants for something. Dean immediately growled in warning and this time Sam joined him.
"Okay! Easy! You really are short tempered puppies," the Alpha complained reproachfully, raising his hands again. "I was just reaching into my pocket to pay them. I can't let them walk away empty-handed. Their man wouldn't like it. He'd send his people over here to deal with me, and none of us want that."
Okay, that made sense. The hookers had pimps who made sure all their clients paid them properly. Everyone knew that.
"Okay. I'll get the wallet out myself," he agreed to this as well and began to slowly approach Alpha. "I think you already know this one, so keep your hands up," he instructed him before he pressed the barrel right against his shirt, where his heart was, and began to feel the pockets of the same expensive, high quality pants Cas wore. All the while trying to inhale this new Alpha smell in big gulps, but subtly. He wanted to know more about this guy's intentions. If he could smell anger or maybe just aggression in his scent, but he smelled nothing but sweet cashews, rum, and a musky undertone of arousal that still lingered.
He was also trying to figure out why this Alpha's scent was so familiar to him, though he was sure he'd never met anyone with that combination. There was just something about him. And there was also something about the way this Gabriel curled his lips into a smile and his bright eyes.
He checked one pocket and then the other, front and back, to make sure there was a phone in one and a wallet in the other, but he didn't pull it out. Not yet. While he was here, he wanted to make one hundred percent sure this guy didn't have a gun. His pant leg wasn't bulging, but his pants were wide enough at the bottom that something small could be hidden underneath. So, not taking his eyes off him, he slowly squatted down, sure that if Alpha did anything stupid, like try to kick him, Sammy would still have him in his sights. Only Alpha didn't look like he was up to anything, and he didn't smell like it either.
Dean allowed himself one quick glance down to his ankle and the way the hand he was gripping his ankle with was buried in the fabric with nothing underneath. Then, as he lifted his eyes, he accidentally caught sight of Alpha's crotch, which was... fuck, he had a semi-hard cock there of decidedly respectable proportions that contrasted with his otherwise petite frame. And as Dean instinctively sucked in air, he could smell a strong musky scent emanating from those exact spots that made him grin in disgust and look up into Alpha's amused face.
"Don't flatter yourself. He was already like this when I came in."
He didn't find that a worthy response, just pursed his lips and lifted himself back to his feet, keeping his face and himself as far away from Alpha's crotch as he could. He reached out with as much distance as he could as he reached for his wallet.
"Second pocket," Alpha instructed him; Dean just frowned in confusion because his phone was in the other pocket. "We're in the twenty-first century. You can pay with contactless everywhere now."
He frowned slightly, somehow not imagining how that was supposed to work in the case of prostitutes, but reached into his other pocket and handed the phone to Alpha. Then he took two steps back to put space between them again, and gripped the butt of the gun with both hands.
"Can they put their hands down? Sharon needs to check on the payment..." he asked Alpha, motioning the cell phone towards Beta.
Dean shot the women a quick glance before nodding. As if on cue, they both lowered their hands and the black woman reached into her purse for her phone.
Dean watched with a bit of a confused frown as Alpha tapped something on the screen and a moment later Sharon's phone dinged. Was this really how it went today? Did hookers get paid through some app? The expensive ones probably really did, and these two must have been expensive because their clothes didn't look like the cheap latex and synthetics worn by the hookers Dean used to see in truck stops and on the streets of this town.
"I added a small gift for this little inconvenience," Alpha directed his words to Sharon, but nodded his head towards Dean.
An inconvenience? Dude, was it really just a fucking inconvenience for him to have two guns pointed at him?
"Oh... that's nice of you, Gabe," Sharon crooned with a hint of something that almost resembled a growl. "But it doesn't make up for a ruined evening. We were looking forward to having some fun together tonight."
"Maybe I'll stay a few days."
"If you do, be sure to call. I'll always make time for you, Alpha," Beta growled a second time before reaching out to his mate. "Come on, Mina."
The redhead placed her hand in the impaled palm and the two women took a few steps towards the door, but stopped somewhere on Dean's level. They were probably waiting to see if he would actually give them permission to leave, so he lowered his gun a little and nodded. Sharon met his gaze before he pulled the redhead to him, wrapping her arms around her waist as if she was trying to protect her or something, and they finally walked to the door together. Dean gave them a half-glance, noticing that Sammy had moved out of their way and lowered his gun for the moment they passed him, and also that, like Dean, he never took his eyes off of Alpha Gabriel.
There was a tense silence, during which the Alpha exchanged glances with both of them and finally settled on Dean.
"You're exactly his type... if you weren't an Omega and twenty years older," Gabriel finally broke the silence.
He squinted his eyes.
"Who are you talking about?" He asked. Was it possible he was talking about Castiel? Yeah, he kind of did, but he wanted to confirm it.
"About my brother. Castiel."
"You're Alpha Castiel's brother?"
"Da." His corners twitched in an amused smile. "His real, blood brother. Maybe he referred to me as Gavril," Alpha suggested; Dean remained silent. "Slavka? Stana? Stanislav?"
"He never talked about you," he interrupted his enumeration of names or nicknames.
It wasn't exactly true. Castiel had mentioned his brother on occasion, and on one occasion had spoken directly to him, but he had never said his name, so no matter what this Alpha threw around for a name, Dean had no reason to even consider believing him.
"Really? Never?" The Alpha looked almost overly surprised and put a hand on his chest. "That hurts, but...Yeah, Castiel's never been the sharing type, I'll admit that, but he was talking to me about you. Dean, da? Omega belonging to my brother. However, you... " He looked at Sam. "He didn't even mention you, pup. Who are you?"
"None of anyone's business," Sam replied through his teeth.
"You don't have to bite," he said in the same, light tone, measuring Dean with a quick glance. "He's not your puppy. Even if you are an Omega, you're too young to be the father of a puppy that old. Younger brother, I guess?"
"Like he said, it's none of your business, so shut up and sit on the couch for once."
"Oh, come on...! You don't want to continue with this nonsense, do you?" He waved his arms almost to the point of offering what looked like a hug. "I'm Cassie's brothers, you're his Omega and he," he nodded towards Sam, "is your brother. We're practically family! So put the gun down and come on my chest so I can give you a proper hello, my little brother!"
"Are you fucking insane!" Dean barked, honestly not understanding what the hell this guy thought he was doing. "You just claim to be Castiel's brother, but you haven't given me a single fucking reason to believe you."
"This is the reason," Gabriel replied, holding out his hand with the wing tattoo.
"Yeah, nice tattoo. Anyone can get one of those."
For the first time in a while, this Alpha's expression really darkened, his eyes glinting with a coldness that was suspiciously similar to the one that passed in Castiel's eyes from time to time, and a rum-bitter tang rose to the surface in his scent, which leaned into Dean's nose with full force and made his Omega whimper and growl at the same time. This was a powerful Alpha. A dominant Alpha. He might have had a Knothead personality, he might have been a little nutty - dude, he was acting pretty crazy so far - but he wasn't really one of those macho Knotheads that were all over the place. This Alpha was really like Dean's Alpha. He was a real Alpha, with real strength and a willingness to do anything.
He swallowed through a tightened throat and readjusted the position of his fingers on the stock. His arms were starting to ache from holding the weight of the gun for so long, but he wasn't going to lower it. Not yet. Though he was already willing to... sort of... believe that this Alpha was Castiel's brother. Maybe.
"No, he can't unless he wants to meet big daddy a little sooner than he was meant to," Gabriel replied coolly, and with the strength in his voice that he continued with. "That is the mark of Constantine's bloodline. Only those of his blood dare wear it. I am Castiel's brother, and you will believe me, Omega."
The weight of Gabriel's voice was like a heavy stone that landed on Dean's raised hands and he began to push them down. Submit. To stick his neck out and show his belly. That's what all his instincts were telling him. They were literally screaming it at him. It was almost the same as when his Alpha ordered him to do something... any of his Alphas, be it Castiel, Dad, or Bobby, but not quite like this. He managed to find it in himself to push his submissive Omega into the corner of his mind and grit his teeth.
"No!" He said firmly; Gabriel blinked in surprise, and at that moment the pressure on Dean seemed to ease. "I only trust my Alpha. Only he can prove to me that you're his brother."
" Okay!" Alpha uttered in a relaxed tone again, as if he hadn't just been defied by Omega. "I'll call him, alright?" He asked, and when Dean didn't object, he picked up his phone and dialed the number with a few presses.
There was the sound of a video call being dialed. It didn't take a few seconds before the call connected and a flood of Castiel's annoyed voice came out of the cell phone:
“Grebany idiot! Pochemu ty ne otvechayesh' na moi zvonki?! Yesli ty v gnezde moyey Omegi, klyanus' vsemi svyatymi, ya naderu tebe zadnitsu tak sil'no, chto u tebya yaytsa v gorle zastryanut! Ty menya ponyal, Gabriel'?!”
"Ya tozhe privetstvuyu tebya, moy lyubimyy bratishka," replied Gabriel cheerfully. "I couldn't answer your phone because your Omega is keeping me a little busy. He wants to talk to you, by the way," he added, turning his cell phone to Dean without further ado.
To Dean's relief, his Alpha was indeed on the screen, taken from below at an odd angle as the cell phone was mounted on the dashboard, and surrounded by the leather interior of one of his cars. Blue eyes glittered as Cas quickly lowered his gaze to him before he had to turn his attention back to the road.
"You okay, Dean?"
"Yeah, both Sam and I are," he assured him, and shit, he was so glad to hear Castiel's voice because it brought a stupid sense of security. "But some Alpha barged in here claiming to be your brother. Am I supposed to believe him?"
"Da, Dean. He's my brat Gabriel. You can put the gun down."
He let the gun drop and gave Sammy a quick nod, indicating that he should do the same. The little Alpha frowned and hesitated a little, but lowered his gun muzzle to the ground.
"What should we do next, Alpha?" he asked for further instructions, a little, but only a little unsure of what he should do. He had just been pointing the gun at Castiel's brother, who was not only an Alpha, but quite possibly a member of the Bratva, for a good ten minutes, maybe more. Did that count as grounds for punishment?
"Get him something to drink. I'm on my way to you," he ordered in a clear and understandable voice, and though his voice still sounded strained, it was far from the previous outburst of anger, and Dean was sure that this time it wasn't just the Russian that just always sounded angry. "And Gabriel..." he addressed his brother; Gabriel turned the screen back to himself. "Nam dvoim pridetsya ser'yezno pogovorit', brat"
It was clear from the sound that Castiel had up.
Dean looked at Gabriel with a frown. The latter put his phone back in his pocket with complete calm, then slipped his hands into his pockets as well, returning the look, his head tilted slightly to the side. It wasn't quite the same birdlike movement Dean's Alpha had made, but now that he knew for certain that Alpha Gabriel was Castiel's brother, he could see some faint similarities. The same bright eyes looking into his soul. And the same dominant aura, where everything from the expensive clothes to the watch to the way the Alpha stood casually screamed that he was just a pompous Knot, but at the same time he exchanged a look with Dean without growling, as if he wasn't at all annoyed that some Omega dared to look him directly in the eye. He saw the exact same contradiction in Castiel.
So yeah, there was no question that he was Castiel's brother, but... brother or not, what the hell was he doing in their apartment? And how did he get in here in the first place? He hadn't broken down the door, and it had taken him too short a time to get inside to pick the locks. At least Dean would need forty seconds to a minute each. Maybe he was just better at picking locks. After all, there was the most important question; why had he come? He guessed that all of those questions would only be answered when his Alpha arrived, and until then it was his job to take care of Alpha Gabriel. Or at least give him something to drink.
Okay, he could do that. It wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with an uninvited guest. Dad would occasionally bring some friends from the job he was working at. It wasn't very often, their Alpha was more of a loner, but Dean guessed that every Alpha's natural desire to have a pack of their own showed up occasionally with him.
Lowering his eyes briefly, only to switch his weapon from hand to hand and look up at the Alpha again.
"Okay... um... beer?" he suggested into the awkward silence.
"You're the master of the household. I'm just a guest. I won't refuse anything you offer," Alpha Gabriel replied.
He wasn't sure what he meant by that, but if it meant he'd settle for beer, he decided not to dwell on it.
He didn't give up his gun, of course, nor did he put it away anywhere, taking it with him nicely into the kitchen and setting it down on the counter for just the brief moment he was opening the bottle. Then he hesitated a little and turned a quick glance to Gabriel, who had already managed to settle himself in the middle of the longer part of the couch, throwing his arms comfortably over the back of the couch and swinging his leg over the leg. The epitome of comfort and sovereign Alpha dominance, which he displayed with the same ease that Castiel did. And judging by Sam's brooding expression and the way he held his weapons and glared at Gabriel, the little Alpha didn't like it quite as much as he did with Castiel. Totally awesome! It meant he was about to have three Alphas in his place, with most of them hating each other.
He really hoped his Omega Biology wasn't going to do some pheromone shit, because it was embarrassing enough that Castiel's brother smelled cum and slick on him. He didn't need to humiliate himself further in his eyes. Maybe... maybe he could and should make a bit of a good impression. Something polite and all. So he pulled out glass and carefully poured the beer into it so he could serve it to Alpha Gabriel in a somewhat civilized manner.
Grabbing his gun, he returned to the couch and set the glass down in front of Alpha.
The problem was where to sit. He was tempted to sit on the shorter part of the couch, as it would be the furthest away from Alpha, but he knew Sammy would have an even harder time with Alpha's second. So he sat on the long part of the couch, but as far away from Alpha as possible, leaving the safest spot to Sam. He waited for Dean to sit down, then slowly walked over to the remaining safe spot and carefully sat down as well; gun resting on his knee.
The alpha didn't look worried, he continued to smell of sweet cashews and rum, and the musky scent of arousal almost wafted out. He simply reached for his beer, took a sip, and leaned back. The beer was in his hand the whole time, giving Dean a good look at the back of his hand and his fingers. There was writing on the outside of his palm that disappeared under his sleeve. On his middle and ring fingers were tattoos of 'rings' with symbols Dean didn't recognize, and on his index finger was the all too familiar symbol of two rectangles inside each other and the Greek letter A - the sign of Alpha, who controlled the territory.
He frowned at the tattoo.
Alpha Gabriel was not only Castiel's brother and a member of the Brotherhood, he was just as high ranking as Castiel. That was probably what Sammy had warned him about. Alpha's high rank... Shit! Sammy! This was the second time he'd pulled a gun on someone like that. Surely Cas or this Alpha couldn't have just walked over that, except he seemed perfectly fine and Castiel hadn't even hinted that he was angry with Dean or Sam for the way they'd treated Alpha Gabriel.
Alpha took another sip, whereupon he set his glass down on the coffee table and reached into his pocket from where he pulled out a roll of candy. He squeezed one into his hand and popped it into his mouth and while he sucked, he looked first at Dean and then Sam before picking up the candys and waving them in the air.
"Anyone want candy? They're orange..." he offered; neither Dean nor Sam responded, because what the hell was that supposed to be? A Russian mob boss offering them candy? In what reality did something like that happen? But the Alpha seemed perfectly normal, and just shrugged at their silent refusal. "No? Never mind. I thought you'd like some since you're living in a creepy man in a trench coat's house.”
"What?" Dean looked uncomprehending. Now he was talking about what again?
The alpha gave him a very long look before shaking his head in something like disappointment.
"Didn't you catch the reference?" He asked, to which Dean couldn't answer other than a frowning silence. "Oh my... you are very young, aren't you little Omega?
"And you're pretty short for an Alpha," Sam responded, straightening up, puffing out his chest and jutting his chin in a pose. Dean had no doubt that this was a deliberate attack on his subgender. A reaction to the Alpha calling him 'little Omega'. Sure, he didn't like it either, he was no little Omega and he'd tell anyone else to go to hell for calling him that, but this was a mafia head and more importantly, Cas' brother. After everything that had happened today, it was definitely wise to keep it all quiet.
He shot Sam a sharp look and took a breath to admonish him, but a short, amused laugh coming from Alpha stopped him.
"And you're cheeky and ridiculously tall for a puppy. How old are you anyway?"
"Almost thirteen."
"Twelve, then," Alpha Gabriel guessed accurately, shooting Sammy an amused glance. "If you grow like that, you'll be moose-sized. Hmm..." he measured Sam again. "Moose... It suits you. You even look like one."
"I don't look like a moose," Sam objected with a grunt.
Dean wouldn't admit it out loud, especially not in front of this Alpha, but yeah, Sammy did look a little like a moose, and if he kept growing as fast as he had so far, he'd soon be able to look a live moose in the eye.
There were sounds from the doorway.
Dean immediately got up to go greet his Alpha, or at least he hoped it wasn't some other unwelcome guest. Surprisingly though, Alpha Gabriel was quicker. In one fluid motion, he got up and was at the door long before Dean.
The door swung open to reveal a snarling Castiel, his eyes glowing red and a gun in his hand pointed directly at his brother. What the fuck...?! Five minutes ago he'd asked Dean to serve him a drink and now it looked like he was going to kill him.
Training was what worked first. That's why he raised his gun and pointed it at Alpha Gabriel again and saw Sammy do the same. The Omega's instincts, more specifically the instinct to breathe in and taste the atmosphere, kicked in just a second later. So Dean sucked in air, his head turned slightly towards his Alpha, who closed the door with a kick of his feet, moving closer to his brother, the gun in one hand while the other was loosely along his body. He was all relaxed. No tension in his shoulders, a sign of suppressed rage, and no smell of bitter almonds so strong and foul that it made Dean sick. In fact, even his growls didn't sound as truly ferocious as they first appeared. Oh no... there was a playfulness to it that Dean knew. Although, when Cas crept up on him on the bed or buried his face in his neck and shoved his hands under his shirt, his growls were deeper and more passionate. This was more of a happy one, and Castiel's scent matched it. And as far as he could tell, it was also one belonging to Alpha Gabriel.
"Fuck. Ya ub'yu tebya v sleduyushchiy raz," Castiel snorted in Russian, letting the gun drop.
There was a brief silence before Alpha Gabriel's face spread into a wide grin and an amused growl of laughter escaped his throat. He crossed the distance that separated him from Castiel, arms outstretched in an embrace, grabbing Dean's Alpha around the shoulders and by the back of the neck, pulling him close to his chest. Cas gave in and wrapped his free arm around his brother's back.
The air was instantly saturated with the scents of two happy Alphas, one of them being Castiel. It was strong, and somewhat overpowered Samy's smell of rancid olive oil that had been pumping from the air - quite rightly - ever since Alpha Gabriel had burst in.
"Cassie... bratishka moy..." the Alpha Gabriel almost growled amiably as he pulled away, patting Castiel's cheek in the process, which to Dean's surprise, his Alpha only allowed with a small, disgruntled grunt.
"Don't call me that." He pulled back a little further, the hand he'd been using to hug his brother's back moving to his shoulder close enough to his neck to definitely touch his scent gland, and then looked down at the full height of him. "And don't you ever come into my lair or my Omega's nest again without an invitation, you glupy durak. Dean could blow your head off,” he said, tucking his gun into his belt.
Alpha Gabriel chuckled.
"Ya ponyal when he and his moose brother pointed a gun at me."
"Da," Castiel nodded before his gaze slid first to Dean, then quickly to Sam, and finally back to Dean to speak to them both. "Put the guns down and you..." he glanced back at his brother before moving his arm around his shoulders, "you come. I'll properly introduce you to my Omega."
He let the gun drop and motioned for Sam to do so as well, just in case, and tried to assume something of a relaxed stance as Castiel brought Alpha Gabriel in front of him. He looked the small, Russian Alpha in the eyes and honestly, he suddenly felt awkward. And stupidly nervous because... wow, okay, his... um, boyfriend? Alpha Mate? His 'something' was just about to introduce him to his brother, and while he should be rather angry at Castiel right now, asking him questions like what his brother was doing here in the middle of the night, he felt like getting to know Gabriel was a terribly important thing. Like being introduced to his parents or something.
"Dean, this is my brother Gabriel... Brother, this is Dean Jankovich Winchester. My Omega Mate," Castiel introduced him in a terribly formal and long-winded way that in that time Dean managed to sweat his hand, which was already greasy with gun oil anyway.
"It's a real pleasure to finally meet you." Alpha Gabriel showed him his fangs in a grin and extended his hand.
He gave the offered hand a quick glance before wiping his palm on his sweatpants, straightening his back and accepting the proffered greeting. Yeah, he was nervous, and maybe it was evident in his scent, but he wasn't going to cower here in front of the Alpha. Nicely sovereign, but calmly and not unnecessarily dominant , Winchester, he instructed himself, clasping Alpha's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Al..." he paused, remembering that calling someone 'Alpha' wasn't considered as polite in Russia as it was here at home, and instead changed the address to, "Mr. Novak."
"Actually, it's Lazarov, but Gabriel will do, or Gabe. We're almost family," he replied, patting Dean on the arm with his right hand.
"And this is Dean's younger brother Samuel," Castiel introduced Sam as well, right after Gabriel let go of Dean's hand, and did so with indifferent detachment, even using Sammy's full name, which no one ever did. In fact, Dean wasn't even sure if anyone besides him and his dad even knew that Sam wasn't just named Sam.
"Da... da.... tall, moose brother," Alpha Gabriel said, holding out his hand in Sam's direction. "It's nice to finally know at least your name, Moosy."
The little Alpha hesitated and frowned before stepping forward and accepting the proffered hand with his head held high. His lip curled up a little as he did so, and his chin lifted, the fingers gripping the butt of the gun tensing, but it was no worse than what Dean had seen from all the Alphas.
"Pleased to meet you, Alpha Lazarov," he said in a tight tone, deliberately doing the exact opposite of Dean and calling Castiel's brother 'alpha'. Either he knew a lot more about Russian customs than Dean did - he wouldn't have been surprised at that, given Sammy's passion for crime, including the Mafia from around the world - or he simply guessed that since Dean had corrected himself, the address must be important. And he just wanted to be a nuisance. But surprisingly, not as much as Dean had expected. At least he wasn't openly challenging Alpha Gabriel like he'd done with Castiel. Small consolation, since the room was now filled with Alpha scent and nothing pleasant was coming from Sam, but at least there wasn't the stench of Alpha rage.
"Now, brother... let's sit down. We have a lot to talk about," Castiel said towards his brother before fixing his gaze on Dean. "Dean... Get us something to eat and a beer for me."
"You want to stay here?" It slipped out before he realized it sounded rude.
Castile cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes in mild irritation.
"Of course. It's quiet here, and I want you and Gabriel to get to know each other."
"Oh, well... um... I can talk to you... " He nodded his head imperceptibly towards the kitchen.
His Alpha gave him one of those uncomprehending looks where he looked like maybe he didn't even understand English, but then he patted his brother on the back and said:
"Sit down. I'll be right back."
He walked to the farthest corner of the room, nicely to the refrigerator, and turned to face the window, waiting for his Alpha to join him. When he did, his lovely, tart scent filled his nose as Cas stood very close indeed, a warm palm pressed against the back of his neck. The touch and the smell was soothing, if unintentionally and a little unwillingly. He hadn't meant to get angry in front of his guest, no, but damn...!
"It's one o'clock in the morning! Do you even know that?!" He hissed half-loudly, looking up defiantly into Castiel's eyes, which seemed darker than they were in the light coming through the window. "It's night... and your brother shows up! He'll get in I don't even know how! He breaks into our nest and drags two hookers with him and... now you want him to stay here. And..." here he paused as anger gave way a little to fear. "He scared us, you know? And we pulled guns on him. We pointed them at him..."
"I know, Dean. I saw it," the Alpha replied as if nothing had happened, rubbing the back of Dean's neck in a reassuring gesture, again, as if nothing had happened at all, but it had. Dean wasn't stupid. Or rather, naive. He didn't believe they could get away so easily with targeting someone as powerful as Alpha Gabriel probably was.
"You don't seem to understand. We pulled guns on him!" He pointed out, but the only response he got was a slight tilt of Castiel's head. "If we knew who he was, we never would have done that."
"Is that what you're worried about? Are you afraid of punishment?"
Shit, someone was being stupid here and Dean wasn't sure which one.
"Yeah!" He exclaimed.
"You don't have to worry about that. If only two hookers saw it, it doesn't matter. It'll stay in the family."
"But...!"
"Din," he interrupted by grabbing his chin with two fingers and lifting his face up to speak close to his face, almost lips to lips. "Moy sladkiy Omega... you don't have to worry about anything that happened today. Gabriel is my brother. He is my own blood. And he knows what you mean to me. Yes..." that sounded a bit like a sigh, and Castiel's eyes briefly rolled to the couch Gabriel was sitting on, the TV remote in his hand and just flipping through channels, "he can be annoying and I understand that what he did was unforgivable. And I'll talk to him about it, but... He doesn't want to and didn't mean to hurt you. It was just... a joke."
"A joke?" He repeated sharply. "Breaking into someone's house at one in the morning is a joke?"
"To Gabriel, yes. He has a strange sense of humor."
"Fucking sense of humor," he growled through slightly bared teeth.
"I'm not arguing about that."
He frowned. Was that all? Castiel was just going to acknowledge that his brother was being a dick, and that would be the end of it? Yeah, probably, and it almost seemed like there was no point in saying more. Dean should be satisfied that his or Sammy's behavior today hadn't gotten them in trouble, but he wouldn't be the one to put up with it.
"You can't stay here," he said flatly, moving out of Castiel's grasp. "It's night. Sammy and I have to go to school tomorrow. I have a math test and..."
"Dean," Castiel interrupted again, letting go of the back of his head and backing away a little. "You can't just throw Gabriel out. He's a guest in your nest and you're the host, so start acting like it. Prepare some food and drink, and if you don't have anything here, go see my men and they'll go shopping."
"But...!"
"No buts. Do as you're told," the Alpha concluded in a tone that brooked no further discussion and under which, whether Dean liked it or not, his Omega ducked his head obediently and he just gritted his teeth in submission.
Castiel took his silence as approval, which of course pleased him, so he leaned down and just lightly kissed Dean on the lips. And he didn't seem to mind that Dean didn't return his kiss, because he simply turned and made his way back to his brother.
Dean sent a defiant look his way and stared at him for a moment longer, once he was settled next to Alpha Gabriel. And he kept his anger even further. Even so, obediently, like a proper fucking little Omega, he opened the fridge and pulled out another beer, and while clutching it in his hand and staring into the cold and brightness, he wondered how much the Alphas were to be resented... and if he had everything he needed for some proper sandwiches.
Notes:
Grebany idiot! Pochemu ty ne otvechayesh' na moi zvonki?! Yesli ty v gnezde moyey Omegi, klyanus' vsemi svyatymi, ya naderu tebe zadnitsu tak sil'no, chto u tebya yaytsa v gorle zastryanut! Ty menya ponyal, Gabriel'?! - Fucking idiot! Why aren't you answering my calls? If you're in my Omega's nest, I swear by all that's holy, I'll kick your ass so hard you'll feel your balls in your throat? Do you understand that, Gabriel?!
Ya tozhe privetstvuyu tebya, moy lyubimyy bratishka - I salute you too, my beloved little brother.
Nam dvoim pridetsya ser'yezno pogovorit', brat. - The two of us really need to talk.
Ya ub'yu tebya v sleduyushchiy raz - I'll kill you next time.
glupy durak - Stupid fool
Chapter 42
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lack of food was definitely not the problem of the evening. It was the lack of booze. Dean realized this halfway through making the sandwiches, and all he had to do was glance at two adult Alphas who had probably just decided to have a drinking contest. They toasted each other, then both drank their beers, and just as they did, Castiel waved the empty bottle at him like he was some damn maid.
It wasn't like he'd never done it before. Sometimes when his dad brought friends over, or when they were at Bobby's, he would stay up and bring beers too, but that made him feel like he was part of a bunch of guys having fun. This time he felt like he was just there to rub the night in the kitchen. Actually... shit! Both of those damn Knotheads had told him that was exactly what he was here for. Host and master of the house. Bullshit! The obedient Omega, keeping his head down and taking care of the Alphas.
Fuck that...
Cranky, he put the three remaining bottles of beer they had in the fridge - unopened, because they could damn well do it themselves - on the table with the sandwiches, then did what Castiel had suggested; he went across the lobby to the Alpha men to send them out to get something to eat. He took Sammy with him, just in case, not knowing what the little Alpha might say or do if he and the other two Alphas left him alone. They were answered by Baldy, who everybody called 'Kot' and who was on duty most of the time in the apartment across the way. He explained to the small, muscular Beta that he needed some beer and food because the Alphas Castiel and Gabriel were visiting. Beta just curtly replied that he would take care of it and sent them back to their apartment.
Great! Another dick who thought he could boss him around. Not an hour later he and another one like him rang the doorbell, weighed down by several bags. Just in time, because the food in the fridge and the cupboard had just run out.
He had the bags placed on the table and began unpacking.
Two of them were full of booze, including two bottles of vodka, and a whole carton of Castiel's brand of cigarettes. Okay, that wasn't surprising. In the other, he expected something like nachos and salsa and chips and stuff like that. Maybe caviar and crackers. That was there, but he also got pickled and canned fish, canned vegetables, including mushrooms, and canned fruit. Also fish and eggs in jelly, sausages, cheese by the block and those moldy cheeses (dude, who eats that stuff voluntarily? It stunk even through the wrapper!), pickled cheese, and yeah, finally, little tins of caviar. And tons of mini-Halloween candy bars and lots of other chocolate. Half the stuff didn't have the original English packaging, but someone had gone to the trouble of honestly sticking an English ingredient label on the back. Not that it helped him understand how to serve the stuff properly. What was he supposed to do with a bottle of mushrooms pickled in vinegar? Put it on sliced bread and crackers? Or just put it on a plate?
In the end, Sam was surprisingly helpful, took the mushrooms out of his hand, pulled out a colander, strained them, dumped them on a plate, and told him to do the same with the rest of the stuff. OK... So like a buffet or something. He did that.
When he and Sam carried the plates to the table, they didn't look as cool as in the movies, but they were met with surprising enthusiasm by both Alphas. Castiel took Dean's hand and kissed the back of it, saying it looked nice and thanking him. His damned inner Omega puffed and purred enthusiastically at the Alpha's praise, making him somehow forget what he was angry about. At least until Gabriel started spilling vodka and wanted to give Sam a little 'suck' as well. It wasn't just the idea that someone would be willing to pour hard liquor on a twelve-year-old that pissed Dean off - beer? Okay. Dean wasn't much older when his dad gave him his first sip. But damn it! Vodka was a strong drink. Nothing for little puppies like Sammy - but even the older of the adult Alphas insisted on it. He let out a small growl and a declaration that his puppy would only get a drink over his dead body. As soon as he'd said it, he froze inside, afraid he'd said something out of line, but strangely enough... Alpha Gabriel just chuckled, accepted his refusal, and pushed the glass he'd poured for Sam into Dean's hand.
They toasted to happiness, health and business success. Then Castiel motioned for him to take the seat next to him, where Dean stayed more or less the entire time, unless he had to go get another drink or something to eat. And most of the time, he didn't even speak. He just sat in his seat, sipped his beer, fought off sleepiness, checked on Sam, who refused to go to sleep and remained sitting on the small half of the couch. And he tried to follow the conversation between the Alphas. It wasn't easy, because they were speaking a mixture of English and Russian, and the more beers they had, the more Russian words came out, and the English became more brittle and less understandable. Still, he picked up quite a bit. Especially in the beginning, when he spoke mostly Alpha Gabriel.
He learned that Castiel's older brother lived somewhere in Miami, apparently had a mansion that was being renovated, complained about the price of fuel for his boat, and made several references to a woman named "Kali" who was either his fiancée or future Mate. As time passed and the booze flowed, "old times" came to the fore. That's when Castiel became much more involved, his scent filled with sweetness, but also the smell of alcohol consumed and cigarettes smoked. And the Alphas' conversation began to consist mainly of memories of where, with whom and how drunk they had gotten and what had happened to them while they were drunk. That's when... that's when Dean started to get lost in it, because they switched almost exclusively to Russian and they both laughed out loud. He'd never seen Castiel so relaxed.
°°0°°
"...pomnish', kak yego mozg vystrelil tebe pryamo v rot?!" Alpha Gabriel laughed as Dean passed him on his way out of the bathroom.
"Eto bylo sovsem ne smeshno. Ya provel neskol'ko chasov v besplatnoy klinike, chtoby proyti tam test," Castiel growled in a muffled voice in return, throwing down the rest of his beer.
"Da, eto bylo uzhe ne tak smeshno. Eto bylo skuchno..." Alpha Gabriel growled, taking a sip as well, whereupon his expression cleared and he laughed again. "Kogda on upal pryamo v yamu, eto bylo smeshno!"
"Ty s Karkarovym ustavilis' na nego, kak petukh iz lyuka," Castiel growled in a way that sounded decidedly approving, baring his teeth in a predatory, gleeful grin.
The two older Alphas were clearly having a good time, and since he had no attention from his Alpha at the moment, he decided to move on to Sammy. The little Alpha had been curled up in a ball for a good hour now, one arm under his head, palm resting on his gun, sleeping. On the one hand, Dean didn't want to wake him when he finally fell asleep, but on the other hand, the couch was hard and small, especially for a gangly puppy like Sam. But his bed was soft and comfortable. Maybe he could get him into the room while he was half asleep.
He leaned over him.
"Hey, champ. Get up. We need to get you into bed..." he said quietly, but Sam didn't react.
So he touched his shoulder. At that moment, the little Alpha almost jumped into a sitting position, and if Dean hadn't expected the violent reaction, he would have had the barrel of a gun shoved into his stomach. Luckily, he was expecting it, so he managed to grab Sam's wrist before he could raise the gun. Unfortunately, they still caused enough of a commotion to keep the Alphas quiet behind Dean's back.
He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to see the Alphas watching them. They were both sitting with their legs spread, showing everything they could, their hands spread across the back of the sofa, only Gabriel's ankle was resting on his knee. They were both holding a bottle of beer, and both were watching with a gleam of amusement in their eyes peeking out from under their eyelids. Okay. There was no doubt now that they were brothers, regardless of the fact that Gabriel was short and tan and Castiel was sinewy and dark-haired.
Sam, looking over Dean's shoulder in the same direction, grunted softly, his calm, contented scent instantly filled with the bitter smell of tainted oil.
"Moody shchenok..." Gabriel chuckled.
"You should have let him sleep," Castiel said.
"He needs to go to bed, at least for a while," he argued, turning back to Sammy. "Okay, buddy... come on. Let's get you to your room."
"I'm staying!" The little Alpha replied, his eyes still fixed behind Dean.
He sighed. Yeah, he understood very well what was going on. Sam had a feeling that he could get hurt in the company of two Alphas, and yes, if it were anyone else, he'd be careful, too, but he trusted Castiel. And Castiel obviously trusted his brother.
"No, you're not staying. You're going to bed."
"But..."
"I'm not debating. Let's go!" he ordered.
An angry scent laced with humiliation rolled out of little Alpha, but he didn't argue, just pursed his lips and stood up obediently. Dean placed the palm of his hand on the back of his head, squeezing only lightly even though Sam tensed under the touch, and maneuvered him into his room. It wasn't until the door slammed behind them that Sam pulled away, snarling.
"You didn't have to embarrass me in front of them!"
"And you should have gone to bed a long time ago," he reminded him, having told his brother several times to go to his room, only to be met with a dismissive look or an equally dismissive growl each time.
"I don't want to leave you alone with them."
"What do you think will happen to me?" He asked in return, his eyebrows rising slightly.
It was a question that seemed to make Sam pause. His face was defiant, but after his experiences with Castiel so far, he simply had to admit that there was no danger. Or at least Dean hoped that he realized that.
"I don't know, Dee... I just don't like seeing you with them," he replied, brushing back his overgrown hair.
He looked at his brother, who suddenly looked more lost and unhappy than defiant and angry, and his Omega whimpered softly, because the sight of his little brother... his puppy... missing something just sucked. And that was regardless of his Omega instincts. He could easily have been a Beta and felt the same way. Either way, he'd want to comfort him and, more importantly, send him to bed to sleep peacefully.
If only he knew how. Nothing he could say seemed to convince the little Alpha to really trust Castiel, or at least try to.
"You should stop thinking about stupid things and go to sleep. It's five in the morning."
"What about you?" Sam asked.
Yeah, that was a good question. He should go to sleep, but he didn't even feel tired anymore. He'd gotten over his sleep and the few beers he'd had kept him awake, but he should try to get at least an hour or two of sleep.
"I'll try to melt it down next door." He pointed with his thumb behind him. "And then go to sleep, too. Okay?"
Sam glanced behind his back.
"Okay."
"Fine."
He waited for Sam to tuck the gun under his pillow and crawl into bed. Successfully resisting the urge to pull the covers up under his chin like he used to do when he was a little puppy, he took one last look at him in the doorway, only to find with satisfaction that the little Alpha had his eyes closed. And that his breathing was slow and steady. He literally fell asleep the moment he laid his head on the pillow.
He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. At the same moment, he heard the bathroom door to his left slam shut.
He knew that whoever went into the bathroom was his Alpha.A hint of cherry scent lingered in the air. So he wasn't surprised when he turned his gaze to the couch to find Alpha Gabriel sitting there in almost the same relaxed yet dominant pose, watching Dean from under his squinted eyes.
This was the first time he had been alone with the older of the adult Alphas, and while he was not explicitly afraid of him, he remained wary. In every sense of the word. Including being aware of how he was expected to behave like a proper Omega... or even like an Omega around an Alpha. He'd been thinking about that all along, but a little more so at the moment. He relaxed his shoulders and hunched over a bit to make himself look smaller, accepting the quiet whispers of his inner Omega urging him to lower his eyes and move slowly and unchallenged.
He made his way to the shorter part of the couch, not wanting to sit next to Alpha Gabriel, but was stopped by Alpha's voice:
"Come sit with me."
The tone in which Alpha spoke was very similar to Castiel's. It could not be said to be a direct command, there was certainly none of the irritation with which stunted Knots spoke when they wanted to force obedience. It was a very emphatic request that would surely make most other Omegas obey without hesitation, and even Dean felt a little compelled to follow Gabriel's will. But there was no urge so strong that he couldn't suppress it and tell the Alpha to fuck off.
Instead, he decided to do the opposite. He kept in mind that Gabriel was his Alpha's brother and of course the fact that he was a damn powerful guy that he didn't want to upset. He really wasn't that stupid. He'd only do it if defiance was the last option left to him.
So he changed direction and sat down in his original spot, leaving space for one more person between him and Alpha Gabriel.
That, it seemed, wasn't close enough for Alpha, who had snuggled up to Dean on the couch. Their knees touched, and Dean's nose was flooded with the sweet scent of cashews with a hint of bitter rum, but it was faint against the musky scent of arousal that was beginning to assert itself. And it intensified as the Alpha leaned in and inhaled Dean's omega scent.
He gritted his teeth and suppressed the urge to just punch Alpha's sniffing nose, which was much closer to his throat than he liked.
"You pakhnesh' beautifully," Alpha said half-loud, a hint of a satisfied purr in his voice.
He didn't need to know a word of Russian to know that Alpha was praising his scent. All Alpha fuckers did, thinking that praising Omega's scent was rich enough to make her fall to the ground and set her ass.
He kept his head down, lowered it even more, instinctively tilting it to shield his gland from the Alpha he was uncomfortably close to, forcing himself to keep his eyes down even though he wanted nothing more than to look him in the eye and tell him to fuck off.
"You like it here?" Alpha Gabriel asked, placing a hand on the back of the couch behind Dean's back.
Having his hand so close to the back of his head was uncomfortable. It made his inner Omega feel very uncomfortable because the back of his head belonged to his Alpha... both of them, including his dad and maybe Bobby.
He certainly wasn't going to let a stranger touch him there, including Gabriel, but at the same time...
"Where here? Here in New York?" He asked, slightly confused, forgetting even to keep his eyes properly down.
Their eyes met and the Alpha didn't object, just raised both eyebrows.
"Net... and yes. Do you like New York? And do you like," he gestured with a hand around his waist, "the apartment?"
He didn't know exactly what the Alpha expected of him, so he glanced around quickly to give himself time to think of an answer. Maybe he could tell the truth. This apartment wasn't bad. It looked better than most of the places he'd lived in his life, and until tonight it had seemed very safe. It wasn't so safe now, but... hey, motel rooms weren't the pinnacle of security either. Most of them had doors as thin as paper and locks that barely worked. It was still safer here than anywhere else.
"I like it here. It's okay," he replied neutrally.
"Is it?" Gabriel asked in surprise. "Ya ne veryu tebe... You know you can have more... That you deserve more. I can give it to you, krasivy," the Alpha growled, running his fingertips down Dean's back, just below where Cas was gripping his neck. Too close, so close that he tensed under the touch and it took a lot of effort not to growl. "How about a penthouse with an ocean view? Would you like that? Or a house on a private beach? Or you could live on my yacht... would you like that?"
Alpha's hand came to rest on the back of his head and Dean's Omega bristled with anger and disgust. He wasn't his Alpha! He had no right to touch him like that! He had no claim on Dean! Dean belonged to Castiel and nobody else!
His anger flared up in full force, and the first thing that crossed his mind was to sink his teeth into the Alpha's face, which was so conveniently close. But then he controlled himself. It was foolish to behave like that when he had a far more effective weapon at his disposal than his own little fangs; on the table right in front of him was the knife he had brought in during the evening so the Alphas could cut their own cheese and sausages. It was a steak knife, so small, but sharp enough to pierce a carotid artery (which could be pierced with almost anything that was a little sharp, if you knew where to hit it) or cut off the balls, for that matter. Yeah, he should have. Cut off Alpha Gabriel's knot and balls for daring to touch him. And for betraying his brother like that.
Betraying... That was the thought that stopped the flow of angry thoughts and made him suck in air...
Alpha's scent was too calm. Too controlled. Sure, yeah, there was excitement in it, but around Omega's scent, half of the Alphas' dicks were hard. Alpha Gabriel was no more interested in Dean than any other Alpha, and what he was trying to do here was deliberate.Either he wanted to hurt Castiel or... or he wanted to test Dean.
He was testing his loyalty.
What the hell...?
Was that possible?
He decided to try to play along, to see what Alpha's intentions were and how far he was willing to go.
"Yeah, I'd like that... Alpha. I've always wanted to live somewhere warm... and around the ocean," he admitted truthfully, his scent turning sweet because the thought of being under a warm sun, a cocktail in his hand and the ocean within reach... yeah, that made him really happy. This admission seemed to give the Alpha a slight pause, at least as far as he could tell by the way the fingers he had placed on the back of his neck tensed and the way the Alpha Gabriel sucked in air.
But the surprise was quickly gone, replaced by a smile.
" Da. Krasivyy Omega like you deserves it. You should be spoiled... have nice things... nice cars... everything you want."
"I'd like that," Dean growled back, deliberately exposing his neck, which had exactly the effect he wanted and expected; Gabriel's eyes slid down his throat to the scent gland visible under the hem of his shirt, including the mark Castiel had left on it. He wondered if the Alpha would have any reaction to that, but he didn't, so Dean continued, "What do I have to do to get all this... Alpha?"
"You know what to do. Be nice to me and I'll be nice to you," Gabriel replied, leaning in so close that Dean could clearly smell his breath on his face, reeking of beer, vodka, garlic and chocolate. "I'm going to be very nice to you, moy Omega. Much nicer than Castiel..." He pulled away again to take Dean's chin in his hand and lift his face to his so they looked into each other's eyes. "Bog blagoslovil my brat, I love him, but he's a cold old snout and a cheapskate. He'll never be willing to give you what you deserve. Someone as beautiful, young and passionate as you should not be attached to him. I'm much nicer and funnier than him. I will love you tenderly, da?"
"Yes... Yes, Alpha," he crooned, like a proper, humble Omega, leaning forward as if he couldn't get enough of Alpha's scent, but he was really doing it to block his view of the table. It worked. Alpha only had eyes for him, so he didn't notice when Dean blindly reached out and grabbed the knife, nor did he notice when he carefully brought it between their bodies. "But...what about Alpha Castiel?" He asked, batting his eyelashes in feigned helplessness.
"He won't mind. He let me have you," the Alpha surprised him with his answer, so much so that he almost dropped the knife he was about to plunge into Gabriel's groin.
This couldn't be true. It just wasn't.
Castiel couldn't even stand talking to another Alpha, he had literally killed that Alpha for it, and so he would never... A cold tendril of uncertainty tickled his brain. His Alpha had said that everything between them was real, and Dean really wanted to believe it with all his heart, but he'd spent so long believing that he was at most a puppy-getting husband to Castiel that... somewhere there was a panicked uncertainty that it was true. Gabriel was Castiel's brother. Maybe it was different.
"He let you do this?" He asked, his voice carefully controlled to keep the fear and uncertainty and sense of betrayal from seeping in.
"Yes," the Alpha replied with complete sovereignty. "We are brat'ya. We've always shared everything. He let me have you for one night, but I want to give you more." He leaned in a little too close. "I want to give you a home to nest in, and then I'll give you lots of beautiful puppies. I'll fill you with my knot," his voice thickened and his accent became more pronounced as he resorted to describing the knotting, because after all, everyone knew that Omegas loved to describe being pulled into someone's knot, "and I'll keep you full until you're round with our baby. You're gonna love it. I know from Castiel that you love to be stretched by his knot," he growled, baring his teeth as if what he was saying about his own brother was supposed to be exciting, and then he allowed himself to move forward, lips still parted to show his teeth, and tried to kiss Dean.
There was a line Dean wouldn't cross, and the fact that Alpha Gabriel was willing to go further infuriated him. It also infuriated him what lies Alpha Gabriel was willing to tell about his brother. And Dean was already sure that he was lying, and he was very ashamed that he had ever doubted him. His Alpha would never lend him out to anyone like he was some sort of thing, and of course he'd never told his brother that Dean loved knots, considering they'd never gotten that far. It was all just Gabriel's lies to fool him. Another Omega might have fallen for it, but Dean didn't. And not only that... an instinctive desire to protect his Alpha flared up inside him, clearly reflected in his scent and the growl that came from his throat.
He pressed the tip of the knife directly against Gabriel's fly.
"I don't care who you are, do it and I'll cut off your balls and your knot!" He said with icy coldness, watching with satisfaction as the Alpha backed away at least enough to look between their bodies at the knife that was just dangerously close to his cock. "My Alpha is only Castiel, and you will not touch me. Nor will anyone else. And," he pressed the tip of the knife hard enough to dig into the fabric, "you're a fucking piece of shit for trying to take your brother's Omega."
There, it was all out. He might have signed his death warrant with it, or at least deserved his punishment, but... he felt damn good, and besides, he was half sure that Alpha Gabriel wouldn't want all this to get to Cas.
That he wasn't wrong was confirmed right away.
From behind the bathroom door came the muffled sound of flushing, followed moments later by the sound of running water. Both of them turned their heads at the sounds and listened for a moment before, almost at the same moment, they turned back to each other and their eyes met. For a long moment they measured each other, and strangely enough, Dean's urge to look away from Alpha was weaker than ever.
Then Alpha Gabriel abruptly pulled his hands away.
"I think we should forget all this, what do you think?" He said in a voice that suddenly seemed to lack not only the previous exuberance and passion, but even most of the alcohol haze.
For a moment, he longed to refuse and tell Cas everything, but he quickly realized that would be a bad idea. His Alpha killed for him. Maybe he wouldn't kill his own brother (and maybe he would, Dean wasn't entirely sure), but it would certainly drive a wedge between them. And seeing how happy Castiel was with his older brother... he just couldn't do that to him.
"Yeah, it's probably the best," he agreed, quickly shoving the knife between the cushions of the couch as the doorknob clicked and the bathroom door opened.
Cas stopped between the doors to turn off the light behind him. Dean used the brief moment when he wasn't paying attention to them to get up from the couch, and Alpha Gabriel moved back to his seat. That way there was space between them, and nothing at first glance suggested that they'd ever get close. Except perhaps the scent on Dean's clothes, but that wasn't as strong as he hoped Castiel would attribute to them being in the same room together. In fact, the air was thick with three Alpha scents, two strong and one slightly weaker coming from Sam, and Dean's sweet Omega scent was rather lost among them. Although... at the moment he could also feel his own anger, which was quite pronounced, so he tried to calm himself down.
"Dean..." Cas purred as his intense blue eyes locked on Dean and he took two large steps to reach him, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him close. And pressed his nose to his neck, sniffing deeply at his scent. Fortunately, he pressed his face into Dean's left shoulder, where Gabriel hadn't touched him.
Instinctively, he dug his fingers into the tousled dark hair and tilted his head to the side so he could inhale the intense scent of roasted cherries with honey and a hint of almond crumble, and his eyes closed on their own. The scent of his Alpha soothed Dean's inner Omega. This was as it should be. This was his Alpha, his Castiel, and the fact that another Alpha had touched him suddenly had no meaning.
The Alpha pulled him closer so that their hips were against each other, and at the same time he put more of his weight on Dean than usual. Maybe even a little more than an Omega a few pounds lighter could handle, but luckily Dean had the strength to hold his somewhat drunk Alpha up.
He pulled away and frowned a little.
"You're drunk..."
"Yes. A little..." Castiel agreed and straightened. The weight that had been on Dean was gone, but Alpha didn't take his hands off him. On the contrary, he cupped his chin between his index finger and thumb and lifted his face up, just as he always did, and much like Alpha Gabriel had done a moment ago (another common family trait, it seemed), "And you're very krasivy. Isn't he, Gabe?"
"I refuse to testify without my lawyer, brat, or you menya ukusish," the other Alpha replied with a laugh in his voice.
He shot him a quick look, which Gabriel returned. And although he sounded amused, there was no smile on his face, instead his expression was unreadable and his eyes were cold. Maybe he was afraid that Dean would talk after all, even though they both agreed that it would be a bad idea.
"I'm going to bed. It's almost morning," he turned back to his Alpha. "Are you coming too?" He asked, arching an eyebrow considerably. Not that he was in much of a mood, but getting Case to bed meant ending this party and kicking Gabriel out. And if that meant giving Castiel a little blow job to put him to bed, he had no problem with that.
Castiel seemed to be thinking about it, because a small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows and he glanced at his watch.
"I didn't realize what time it was," he said to himself, then straightened up a little more, and seeming to confront the alcohol coursing through his veins, making his gaze a little clearer. He didn't let go of Dean, but put his arm around his shoulders and turned to Gabriel. "You ostayesh'sya in town or are you going domoy?"
"I'm going to stay a little longer," Gabriel replied, pulling a pillow close to rest his arm comfortably against it; Dean had an unfortunate suspicion that he was thinking not just here in New York, but right here in their apartment, and he didn't like the idea at all. "Pust' vash drug spit. Togda nam nuzhno pogovorit'. My yeshche ne reshili neskol'ko vazhnykh voprosov."
"Da. Nam nuzhno pogovorit'," Castiel replied in a tone of clear approval, turning back to Dean. "I'll come with you, Din...for a while. Then I must return. I have something important to discuss with Gabriel."
He didn't need any more clues to understand that by "important" he meant the Bratva's activities. It wasn't clear to him why they hadn't discussed it before, since he and Sam wouldn't have understood a word of it had they been speaking Russian, but in Gabriel's presence, Castiel probably took the rule about not speaking in front of the family much more seriously than he normally did. Not that it mattered much. He was curious, of course, but he was counting on Cas to keep his promise this time, and if it involved Dean himself, he'd tell him. As for the rest... He didn't need to know.
There was one thing he was interested in, though, and it wasn't about 'business'.
"Is he staying here until morning?" He asked, a bit ridiculously, since it was technically already morning.
"Da... yes, he's staying here," he nodded with a hint of sharpness, his eyes narrowing a little and his scent turning slightly bitter. And the tension in the arm he hugged Dean with suggested a certain dissatisfaction.
Good. He had an idea why the Alpha was already tense. Dean wasn't happy about Gabriel staying, he'd made that clear before and he certainly hadn't changed his mind. After everything Alpha Gabriel had done a while ago, he actually wanted him here even less. And of course it had to show in him. He didn't hide it particularly. But... he gave Gabriel a quick look. He wished he could get him out of his sight as soon as possible and not have to smell his scent, but he promised to be a good Omega in public. He wasn't technically in public here, but he wasn't stupid, and he knew that even a visit from Castiel's brother counted as a reason to be a "good Omega". So even though Gabriel was a huge dick, Dean knew he had to treat him... well, let's just say as politely as he would an unwanted visitor in the form of an annoying step-uncle or something.
"Fine. I'll be right back," he said, which brought a brief wave of surprise to Castiel's face, and then, as he passed the Alpha, he caught not only the confusion in his scent, but also the typical bird-like motion with which he cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes.
Dean walked into his bedroom, pulled one of the blankets out of the closet he'd shoved in as soon as he'd gotten here, and... paused. A strange feeling of discomfort came over him, one that confused him and his Omega. It was as if his Omega wanted to clench the blanket in her teeth and not let go, but at the same time she didn't know why she wanted to.
He shook off the strange feeling, which he suspected had something to do with his Omega's biology. Something to do with those ideas about how Omegas loved soft things and had to collect them to build a nest and crap like that. Dean last nested as a kid. He hadn't had the urge to build a nest since then and didn't really see why he should have one now. Especially today and at this moment.
He went back to the next room. He had no particular interest in being near Alpha Gabriel again, so he laid the blanket on a short section of the couch.
"Blanket," he announced, frowning slightly as both Alphas stared at him as if he'd grown another head. More specifically, Castiel's head was tilted to one side, his eyes squinted in confusion, and his lips parted slightly as his older brother literally froze in the middle of pouring a shot of gin.
"'Are you... giving me a blanket?" Alpha Gabriel asked, his voice so full of disbelief that it thickened into a thicker Russian accent than he'd had in perhaps forever.
"No. I'm lending it to you," he corrected him. He didn't think Alpha Gabriel needed to steal his blankets, but who knew, maybe he was taking for five fingers just for fun. "You don't need a pillow, I guess?" he asked, just out of politeness, since there were plenty of pillows on the couch; Alpha Gabriel didn't say anything, so he took that as an agreement. "Okay... you've got the blanket and the pillows, there's a few last beers in the fridge. My work here is done. I'm going to bed. Good night," he added, pointing a thumb behind him before turning his back on the two Alphas. It wasn't very polite, but...! He gave Alpha Gabriel a blanket and bade him good night, which was definitely a change for the better considering he had held a knife to his cock and threatened to castrate him just a minute ago.
Making his way to his bedroom door, he picked up his gun from the table that had been there all night and then went into his room, leaving the door open as he was aware that Castiel had followed him. He'd barely had time to put the gun in its place between the pillows before strong arms wrapped around his waist and he was pulled into Alpha's tight embrace. Automatically, he turned his head a little to the side, adjusting his neck and resting his palms on the tattooed fingers intertwined on his stomach.
"You did very well. I'm pleased," Castiel whispered praise in his ear, which warmed him on one hand, but made him feel a twinge of irritation on the other.
He felt breath on his neck, and heard a sniff as the Alpha inhaled his scent, then pulled away. Perhaps irritation was more prevalent than contentment in Dean's scent.
"You're upset."
Such a simple statement amused him.
He chuckled.
"Really? How did you find out, Sherlock?"
"What happened?" Cas asked, pulling away just enough for Dean to turn in his embrace.
"Guess," he challenged, nodding his head toward the closed bedroom door.
"Is it still about my brother?"
"'Yea. Did someone else barge in on us in the middle of the night?" He asked pointedly, whereupon he thought of something and added grimly: "We need better locks. These can apparently be broken in half a minute."
"He had the keys."
He stiffened and gripping Castiel's shoulders a little tighter. What the fuck did he just say? How could Alpha Gabriel have the keys? Unless... unless maybe he hadn't lied to him after all, and what had happened on the couch hadn't been a test, but reality. Castiel could have given Gabriel the key, told him the address, and allowed him to fuck Dean. But no, that was just stupid. Except even that thought made him cringe inside.
"How could he have the key?" he asked, because he just had to know if Castiel had given it to him.
"He took it from my men in the apartment across the street."
"'They have keys to that apartment?!" He raised his voice in anger. He couldn't believe that complete strangers had keys to the apartment where he and Sam lived. With Sam! Sure, there were duplicate keys at motel receptions, but this was a hell of a lot different.
"Sure. How else could they protect you?" He answered with a question and had the gall to look and sound condescending, as if there was something over the top about Dean's demand that strangers not have keys to the apartment he lived in.
"Doors and locks are there to protect people. The more people who have keys, the less safe the place is."
"There are windows," Castiel said, as if that explained everything; Dean bared his teeth a little, which the Alpha commented on with a sigh, letting go and putting some distance between them. "Could get shot at. Besides, there's gutters and karnizy... cornices and that stupid outdoor pozharnaya stairs. My enemies don't just have to come through the door. The locks would only delay the guys, and kicking door makes noise. Losing the element of surprise."
This was absolutely ridiculous. Fucking Alastair and his men breaking into a motel room was one thing, but a sniper on the roof or someone climbing up the gutter? That was completely absurd. I mean, what was he? Sure, he was the husband of a mob boss, but still, nobody would go to that much trouble to kill him or kidnap him or anything like that.
"That's bullshit!" he snorted. "Does everyone have a password to your apartment?"
"No, but my lair is safer. I want you to live there with me. Be safe... but I can't do that yet. This is the only way. I trust my men."
"'Yeah, you do. And who else has the keys?" He asked mockingly, "Your Lieutenants? The rest of your men?" He raised his eyebrows in defiance. "They can all come in here whenever they want and... I don't know... make coffee... take a shower... fuck me..."
He raised his eyebrows in defiance. "They can all come in here whenever they want and... I don't know... make coffee... take a shower... fuck me..."
That last remark was a mistake, he realized as soon as it left his mouth, but he couldn't take it back. The growl that left Castiel's throat was no warning before the Alpha grabbed the back of his head with one hand and cupped his chin with the other, raising his head. His touch teetered between discomfort and pain. And his breath, reeking of cigarettes and booze, reminded him that Alpha was drunk, even if he didn't look it, so he didn't have as much control over himself this time as he had the other times. And that it was a big fucking mistake to provoke him now.
"Kto?! Who tried to touch you!" He growled, the hint of red in his eyes still accentuated by the lights from the street.
"No one! No one, Alpha!" He blurted out the lie so fast that he didn't even have time to think about it, and now that it was out, he could only pray that Castiel wouldn't recognize it this time. "I was just spanking, okay? I'm pissed...and I'm foul-mouthed. Okay?" He continued hastily, seeing that Alpha's incipient anger was not fading. "There's no one else, okay?" He said as firmly but as softly as he could, wrapping his fingers around the wrist of Alpha's hand that was under his chin and giving it a little tug.
There was resistance at first, a little growl and a sharp gasp, but then the tension in Castiel's arm eased and he allowed Dean to guide his hand down. Dean intertwined their fingers, wrapped his arms around Alpha's waist, and pulled him close until their chests were pressed together again. Castiel let out a long sigh, resting his forehead against Dean's and moving the hand he had on the back of his head to the mane of sandy hair. Dean relaxed under the touch of the fingers running through his hair.
"Good... good," the Alpha murmured, the angry growl no longer in his voice as the scent faded. Then he lifted their entwined hands to kiss Dean's wrist. "Moy lyubimyy..." He looked into his eyes; thankfully his irises were dark blue again, "Don't say things like that again, understand? It's not funny and it could cost someone their life, okay?"
"Yeah, right. Sorry, Cas. I'm just talking before I think, okay?" He replied quickly, running his hand up Castiel's back and digging his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer until their lips were almost touching. "I'm yours," he slipped out, not even realizing the words were on his lips, and his Omega purred contentedly, but at the same time, he felt insecure. "I'm yours, aren't I? I mean... I..." he trailed off.
Fucking God! It was so embarrassing and desperate, the way he was whining like a needy Omega here, and for absolutely no reason. Just because of one damn Knot's stupid bullshit and ridiculous thoughts.
"Da... da, just moy. Moy Din. Moy Omega," Alpha agreed with a low growl in his voice, and before Dean could say anything in response, he silenced him with a hard, demanding kiss.He liked beer, cigarettes and fish, but so what. He returned the kiss with passion anyway, pulling Castiel close and taking a small half-step back until his knees hit the edge of the bed. He sat down on the soft mattress, avoiding the stupidly long headboard with some difficulty, and lay down in the scattered blankets, pulling Alpha down on top of him.
Notes:
pomnish', kak yego mozg vystrelil tebe pryamo v rot?! - remember how his brain shot you right in the mouth?!
Eto bylo sovsem ne smeshno. Ya provel neskol'ko chasov v besplatnoy klinike, chtoby proyti tam test - There was nothing funny about it. I then spent several hours in a free clinic to get tested.
a, eto bylo uzhe ne tak smeshno. Eto bylo skuchno… - Yeah, it wasn't very funny. That was more boring.
kogda on upal pryamo v yamu, eto bylo smeshno! - When he fell into the hole, that was ridiculous.
Ty s Karkarovym ustavilis' na nego, kak petukh iz lyuka - You and Karkarov were looking at him like a dick out of a hatch.
shchenok - puppy
pakhnesh' - you smell
Ya ne veryu tebe - I don't trust you
Bog blagoslovil my brat - God bless my brother
brat'ya - brothers
menya ukusish' - you bite me
ostayesh'sya - you stay
domoy - home
Pust' vash drug spit. Togda nam nuzhno pogovorit'. My yeshche ne reshili neskol'ko vazhnykh voprosov. - Let your Mate go to sleep. Then we need to have a serious talk. We still haven't resolved some serious issues
Nam nuzhno pogovorit' - We need to have a serious talk
karnizy - cornices
pozharnaya - fire (adjective)
Moy lyubimyy - my love
...
I have a lot of additions to this Deastiel universe. If you want me to share them somewhere, let me know. It's already too long for the notes.
Chapter 43
Notes:
Bad words, bad plans, bad people, the whole story is full of bad things. You've been warned.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He heard a thud. He opened his eyes sharply and reached for the gun. He knew Dean had hidden it between the pillows. He pulled it out, finger ready on the trigger, and listened as his eyes searched the dim room, lit only by the lights from the street. His Alpha was on full alert, teeth bared, whispering: "Protect the Omega. Protect the Mate.”
Castiel cocked his head a little to the side.
Voices came from the next room, accompanied by music. The television was on. And the other voices they heard were far away. It sounded like an argument, muffled by the wall. He listened for a while, but he couldn't make out any words, and most importantly, the noise wasn't getting any closer. It was nothing more than the normal bustle of an apartment building to which he had grown accustomed. It had been ten years since he'd had close neighbors. His house in Moscow had a small garden around it, and the apartment above Blue Sky was in an extension of an office building. No neighbors to disturb his peace. That was why he stayed in the older office district and in what Gabriel called a "miniature" apartment even though he could have moved into a large luxury apartment. That, and the fact that he had Blue Sky literally steps from his door.
He pushed his Alpha back.
There was no need to protect Dean since there was no enemy in sight. So he returned the gun to its place under the pillows and rolled closer to Omega, into a haze of pungent pine resin and the delicate scent of blossoming apple trees, under which was the sweetness of Turkish honey. His Alpha rolled over and grunted in satisfaction as Castiel buried his nose in sandy hair, wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, and pulled him close so that his small, firm ass was pressed against Castiel's crotch.
"Frozen dog..." Dean mumbled a few incoherent words in his sleep and sighed.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Castiel's mouth. He lifted his hand to run his fingertips along the curve of Omega's neck, where the shoulder met Dean's long neck. He could feel the bulge of his scent gland rise. Even there, a gentle touch filled the air with a wave of Omega's sweet scent.
He knew that even though the skin of his scent gland looked almost as milky as the rest of Dean's body, it was actually a few tones darker. And yet it was still dotted with visible constellations of freckles and a few dark birthmarks.
He ran his fingers over the seductive spot, feeling the telltale itchy pressure in his gums just by looking at it, making his fangs want to push out and his mouth fill with saliva he had to swallow. Then he moved to the protruding joint of his shoulder, and on to the hard bicep that ran over the sharp elbow into a solid forearm dotted with hairs so light they were barely visible. But they were there, soft to the touch, like everything else on Dean. His skin was like silk, his lips were round and soft, and his eyelashes sparkled golden when the light hit them at just the right angle. At the same time, he was full of strength, all forming muscle, firm thighs, beautiful strong calves and a set of abs that would be the envy of any Alpha not only his age but a few years older. It was all a promise that his Mate would gain even more muscle and strength over the next few years and, as he had thought many times, probably grow another inch or two. Maybe he'd end up taller than Castiel himself.
The thought made him grit his teeth in a pleased but somewhat feral grin that he hid in Dean's hair as he brushed against it, leaving his scent mark on it.
He was well aware that most Alphas would find it humiliating to have a Mate - especially an Omega - who was taller or stronger than them, but they were all idiots to the end. It was Dean's strength and the promise of being even stronger, physically and mentally, than he was now that filled him with a deep satisfaction that the Lord had given him the best father for his future children. And also with vanity, for it was he who had been able to tame the wild Omega and make him his own.
His own Omega. His own Dean.
Led by his Alpha, he pressed his mouth to Dean's exposed shoulder. The skin there was clean because his mark was on the other side, and Castiel was eager to make amends. He parted his lips and let the flat of his teeth strike the smooth skin. Lord help him, he wanted to bite down, or at least crush the sensitive flesh between his teeth, but his golden fangs kept him from doing so. No matter how delicate he might be, the fang always protruded beyond the edge of his teeth and was just as sharp as his brother on the other side. Just a little harder grip and it would leave at least a bloody gash on Omega's clean skin, maybe more. And he didn't want that. It would go against his beliefs and the Lord's intentions. And his desire to be at least a little better than his father and most of his brothers. And it would also be dangerous, because a tooth mark with only one fang was very significant.
He pulled back reluctantly, his Alpha growling in displeasure, for all he wanted was to bite and claim Dean. The urge was so strong that he rolled to the side and took a deep breath, looking at the patterns on the ceiling.
He stayed that way for a moment, motionless, just listening to the calm, regular breathing at his side, before his Alpha lay back down with a grunt of displeasure. Then Castiel glanced at his watch and frowned.
It was almost seven in the morning.
He must have fallen asleep.
He hadn't realized it at first, but now that he was outside the bubble of Omega's strongest scent, he began to feel the uncomfortable pressure of the coming hangover behind his eyes.
He rubbed his eyes with a sigh.
As an Alpha, it was hard for him to keep his spirits up. His metabolism could process alcohol faster than Betas, and the hangover came sooner. Fortunately, it lasted much shorter. Sometimes, though, he would appreciate the opportunity to get drunk quickly and easily, or at least there were times when his empty wallet would appreciate it. Those might be a thing of the past, but he'd still enjoy being able to dull himself a bit with a bottle of vodka. Especially when he was about to have a conversation with his beloved but annoying brother Gabriel.
He glanced at Dean, who had just moved to pull one of the pillows towards him, his whole body wrapped around it, his back hunched, making a disgruntled sound and his scent filled with discomfort.
He didn't even think about the strength of the urge that made him bend over Omega and suck in air, trying to find out what he was missing. He was still asleep, his breathing regular, but his shoulders trembled with sleep. He touched his shivering body and found it cold. Of course, Dean was naked, covered only from the waist down, while upstairs, Castiel had been warming him with his own body until recently. As he rolled over, Omega began to feel cold.
He pulled the blanket over Dean's torso and shoulders, careful not to expose any of the creamy skin. Almost immediately, Omega stopped shivering and the tension in his body eased.
Castiel kissed his hair one last time before getting up from the bed and heading for the door.
On the way out, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through the messages. There was nothing more important than a couple of messages from Balthazar, asking if and when he would return to Blue Sky and writing about all the people who had come to the club and who the Beta was planning to leave with this morning. The oldest message was four hours old, the newest only half an hour. He hadn't seen any reason to reply to any of them, before or now, and in truth, Balthazar's efforts to get attention were no longer just annoying, they were getting to the point of being tolerable.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, quietly opened the bedroom door, and just as quietly closed it behind him.
He caught the action on the screen out of the corner of his eye before heading to the fridge to see if there was any beer left. A young woman, hard to tell if she was Beta or Omega, but definitely not Alpha because she was too petite and delicate for an Alpha, was lying on a gray couch, an old TV from the nineties playing a short distance away as she flipped through a magazine. She was wearing a short pink dress and her hair was tied in two ponytails that went over her ears.
He pulled out his Khamovniki, tore off the English description on the back, then opened the can and walked over to the couch.
Gabriel sat on his half couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, holding his own beer in one hand and the lollipop stick he was sucking with the other. And he paid no attention to Castiel, except to suck air loudly. That was all.
Castiel leaned his thigh against the corner of the couch and sipped from his beer as he watched the action on the screen, eyes narrowed, head cocked to the side.
A Beta in a pink dress was in the middle of apologizing to the pizza man for being ten cents short of the full amount for her pizza, and how she was so hungry she was willing to do anything to get her pizza. A completely ridiculous plot that made him snort in disdain and roll his eyes as he took a sip of his beer. The plots in porn were hilarious. This porn got a point for the fact that the pizza man was fully clothed, including his jacket. It wasn't so realistic anymore that he talked about needing tips to pay for college, but he looked at least forty, which was kind of fitting, since a poor high school girl making money babysitting to buy her dream prom dress was at least thirty.
"What's that? A porn channel for nineties lovers?" He asked, mostly alluding to the fact that even the quality of the movie was like someone had played it from a VHS and then taken the trouble worthy of a ten-year-old to transfer it to something resembling HD quality.
"Yeah. And I even saw a pretty beaver a while ago," Gabriel replied casually.
The remark brought back memories of traumatic experiences with old porn magazines his classmates used to steal from their fathers and bring to school. Today's kids couldn't imagine how lucky they were that pornhub or xvideos existed and that with a few taps they could get exactly what they wanted to see right under their noses. Castiel's generation, especially in the Czech Republic, must have grown up with paper magazines where you could barely see a pussy or a dick, let alone a knot, and swimsuit catalogs. And VHS tapes with German dubbed porn movies from German channels. And if someone liked massive dicks and big knots, but not big tits, wet pussies and omega asses... which weren't that bad on video... they had almost no chance of getting anything. Especially not porn with two alphas. Not that such movies were worth anything. He still remembered the first time he'd managed to get porn with Alphas... He preferred not to think about that.
"If the bear shows up, I'll turn it off..."
He gave Gabriel a quick, disgusted look before collapsing on his half of the couch, stretching out his legs and resting his beer on his knee. The familiar smell of cashews and rum and, of course, excitement tickled his nose and made him strangely uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time he'd smelled that smell, after all, they'd shared a room together as children and when Gabriel had first started jerking off under the blanket at some thirteen years old, the smell of his excitement and satisfaction was something that had been deeply etched in Castiel's memory. It was almost familiar, which was why it was so strange that he felt the need to growl at his brother and make him stay away from Dean.
To get rid of Gabriel's scent, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table. When he opened it, he found that it contained the last of the cigarettes. Pulling it out with his teeth, he squeezed the pack and threw it back on the table with the other two that were already there, waiting for their friend. It was a surprising and a little unnerving sight to see the evidence that he had given away two whole packs in one night and half another one to boot. He should slow down a bit, but not now. He needed a cigarette now, not only to get rid of the smell of his brother's excitement, but also to calm his nerves before whatever serious conversation awaited them.
Clicking his lighter, he lit the cigarette and took a grateful drag of the smoke, which immediately dulled his sense of smell and taste with a typical and very welcome aroma.
"Clavo called me," Gabriel began.
Castiel shot him a quick look, then turned his attention back to the screen where the pizza man had the nanny over his knees and was spanking her ass as punishment for not having the money to pay him.
"He thinks you want to build a friendly relationship with Alastair. He didn't like that very much. He threatened war, yelling, swearing, spitting and stuff like that. You know him."
"Is that why you came here? Because of a call from Clavo?"
"I wanted to get to know your Dean," he replied, finally turning to Castiel, "but then I found out you'd really started to be friends with Alastair. I know he can't always choose his business partners, and I understand that. But I don't mind if your," he gestured at him with his lollipop, "BFF would be kicking toys around my playground." He pointed the lollipop at his chest. "You know I'm a gentle man. I don't like fighting. I want us all to play nicely, each in our own sandbox, and be nice to each other and lend each other toys. Do you understand?" He asked emphatically, shoving the lollipop back into his mouth.
He let his head drop to his shoulder and took a drag from his cigarette, raising an eyebrow at his brother's speech. Not only was he barely understandable with all his stupid euphemisms, Gabriel was many things, but gentle was certainly not one of them. Although... it was true that Gabriel rarely had an open argument. Whenever he could talk his way out of a fight or dodge a fist, he did so, never throwing the first punch. He also didn't own guns. And his favorite ways to get rid of inconvenient people or rivals were ones where he or no one else had to be present to the end. Poison, a bomb, a car accident, polonium, alligators in the swamp, the sun, or the tide. These were his weapons. And in situations where Castle would take direct action, with a bullet to the head or a slit throat, Gabriel plotted elaborate plans to kill in the most creative way possible, and preferably from a distance.
"Hardly. You can't make yourself clear again," he replied, dragging and continuing, letting the smoke pass between his words: "I'll be brief; I plan to destroy Alastair's organization, redistribute his territory equally with the Shadows, the Italians, and the Koreans, and kill Alastair."
The other Alpha pulled a lollipop out of his mouth with a loud slurp.
"Ambitious, little brother!" Gabriel patted him on the thigh. "Only if you haven't forgotten the people who owe Alastair. They'll protect him because they're afraid of him or he has something that can make them cooperate."
"I have my own contacts. Or do you think I've been sitting on my ass doing nothing for the last three years?" He snarled in return, baring his teeth.
"Noooo...! I know you've worked hard. After all, the remnants of your work are still being picked up by the police on the coast, but... you're also going to have to beat Alastair in a field you know little about; the field of politics, and believe me, getting along with white-collar dummies is different than talking to people like you and me. And your ability to form normal interpersonal relationships is, let's just say... rusty. Actually, what am I saying!" He chuckled. "You never had that ability."
"I'm not that bad. I'm good at lying and pretending," he retorted, almost unable to keep himself from growling again. Gabriel was so irritating.
"Sure, because you have no remorse. But that doesn't count as diplomacy. If you don't have your friends in politics well enough entrenched, Alastair will outmaneuver you. The Koreans and Italians won't help you on principle. The Seer might be willing to help you if you let her knot your ass, but she has the least political power of your three greatest allies."
"I've already thought about that. And I have an idea who to ally with," he replied; Gabriel's expression was questioning. "The Aryans have been trying to strengthen their hold on the New York market for some time. They've managed to send one of their pure members here, but that's just the beginning. To really get a foothold here, they need allies, because the niggers won't let them in. They fight among themselves for ridiculous reasons, but when it comes to AB, they can come together. Even being able to ship goods through our territory would help the Aryans consolidate their position in the city.
"And it would cut into our profits," Gabriel argued.
"I didn't say I'd let them do it for free," he replied coldly; did Gabriel think he was an idiot? "After Alastair and his people, there will be a hole in the market big enough for all of us. And I'd rather deal with the devil I know..."
"That will be the biggest problem. They won't deal with you at all, little brother. Especially none of the pure members. And you know why."
He was right. There had never been much friendship between the Aryans and any organizations from Eastern Europe. For AB, those from the East were still "fucking commies," and conversely, the Aryans were just "Nazis" to the Russians. They tolerated each other more than anything else. There was an unspoken and tacit truce, usually broken only by small territorial disputes between certain factions of the AB and small Eastern organizations.
As far as their Brotherhood was concerned, Medvedev didn't make much of an impression on the Aryans by mating black woman, and Castiel, with his homosexual tendencies, didn't help the overall picture. While most AB members wouldn't really care, they didn't join the Aryans for ideology, but for money or protection, the hard core, especially their pure members, lived and breathed racial purity. And Alphas sticking their dicks up other Alphas' asses was little better to them than blacks and Jews.
But Castiel had a trump card that could change their minds.
"I have Dean. He's an Omega and the model of the perfect American. Literally apple pie. When they see him by my side, they'll give me a chance." He took a sip of his beer and a drag of his cigarette.
"You really want to work with them?"
It wasn't a question of what he wanted or didn't want, but what was necessary at the moment.
"I don't want Alastair in my city anymore, and I'll do anything to destroy him. He's the one who brought Crimson back here. And I'm sure he didn't do it just to make trouble for us." He took a drag and blew out the smoke. "He wanted to see how we'd react and how far our connections go. He has something bigger planned. I'm sure of it." He reached for the ashtray, set it down beside him, and tapped the cigarette into it. "So far I've managed to pretend that we know nothing and want him and his organization as allies, but he won't believe that fairy tale forever. We must strike before he sees through the ruse and before he strikes at us. If I have to work with the Nazis, I will...and after all, not all deals work out."
"You want to fuck with the Aryans?" Gabriel asked, eyebrows raised in surprise; Castiel just gave him a meaningful look. The older Alpha pursed his lips and raised his eyes to the ceiling in a look of exaggerated thought that was meant to hide how serious he was about the whole situation, but the way the smell of the old rum had intensified was enough to let Castiel know where he really stood; Gabriel had to concede his point, but he didn't like it. Anyway, a moment later, Gabriel dropped his eyes back and said in a relaxed tone. "Okay! Let's have some fun!" He raised the can for a toast.
Castiel grunted in agreement and tapped his beer against his. Then they both turned to the television, where the nanny had just received the first half of her paycheck. She was kneeling on the floor, blowing the delivery boy who was holding a pizza box for some absurd artistic purpose. She was doing typical porn work, cock all the way down her throat, but in that studied, boring, rhythmic way. The fact that she was a woman added a little more absurdity to it, and completely spoiled the view of the delivery boy's rather nice, slightly larger-than-average Beta cock. If the nanny had at least been an Omega male, it would have looked much better. A muscular, tall Omega male with tan skin dotted with freckles and blond hair...
"Aren't you going to ask?" Gabriel interrupted his burgeoning fantasy.
Turning to him, he tilted his head slightly and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Aren't you going to ask how I like your Dean?"
"No. I'm glad you finally met him, but nothing you can say about him will change my opinion of Dean. He's my Mate."
"Oh-ho! Brother, brother! You shouldn't feel that way. You need my support if you want to bring someone into our family. You know you're our only hope of maintaining the great family line our daddy has so selflessly built over the decades, and Michael won't let you choose someone unworthy." He indicated the finger quotes around the last word.
"I don't plan on asking Michael for his opinion, so I don't need your help."
"Really?" Gabriel gave him a skeptical look. "And you don't think our big brother will object? Or Raf with Luce? That they'll all like an Omega like Dean?" He asked in a tone that was far too contemptuous for Castiel's taste, and he couldn't help but raise his upper lip and make his opinion known by showing his fangs and growling. His inner Alpha really didn't like it when the other Alpha spoke of his Omega in such a tone.
Gabriel reacted the same way. He showed his own fangs and let out a deep growl, so familiar from Castiel's childhood, when that was all it took to make him back up and stick his neck out. Then. Years ago. But he hadn't been a puppy to back away from his brother in a long time.
They sized each other up for a moment, the air slowly filling with the bitter scent of aggression. In the end, it was Gabriel who more or less backed down. He let out one last growl, which turned into a snort, and looked away to indicate that he would not continue, but held his head high. He did not accept defeat, nor did Castiel demand his submission.
"You growl at me needlessly. You know I'm right. Michael won't like him."
"And you?" He asked then, if that was the question his older brother wanted to hear.
"Me?" He gave Castiel a quick look. "Hmm...let me think..." He tapped his lower lip with his lollipop, eyes narrowed and fixed on the ceiling. "He's ridiculously tall and muscular for an Omega, and he has a terrible temper. He's hot-tempered, arrogant, defiant, and totally contemptuous of authority, especially Alpha authority. He sleeps with a gun on his nightstand, and from what I hear, has a light finger on the trigger and a sharp tongue. He'll turn the rest of your probably not very long life into an endless hell of arguments and public humiliation," Gabriel enumerated at Castiel's slightly growing concern, whereupon he turned to him and showed his teeth in a wide, gleeful grin. "He's perfect. I love him. You should mate him as soon as possible, lest someone else steal him from you."
He snorted, more or less amused, and finished the last drink in the can. Gabriel had accurately described all the qualities of Dean that he liked and would have chosen him for even if they weren't Tru Mates.
"I'm not going to mate with him unless he wants to. And I don't think he will anytime soon. Remember, he's only sixteen. He has to at least finish high school."
"He can do that with you biting his neck," Gabriel argued.
"No!" he replied in a firm voice. "I'm not like our Alpha father, Gabriel. I don't take mating lightly. I intend to mate only once in my life, and I intend not only to give the bite, but to receive it, as the scriptures say, for that is how the Lord intended it. And Dean, as my Tru Mate," he said, knowing what Gabrielle's reaction would be, and it was; the older Alpha's lips tightened as soon as he said it, but Castiel continued firmly, "deserves nothing less than a mutual commitment of body and soul, both in this life and, if the Lord is so gracious and giving, in the next."
"You're really serious about him, aren't you?" the other Alpha asked, oddly refraining from even mocking him, so Castiel just nodded, refraining from further mention of his faith for a change, knowing Gabriel didn't like it. "Okay... well... do it your way. Wait as long as you want and then have a big wedding with all the trimmings. In a church, with pop and whatever. But brother, for God's sake, please! Put him somewhere else until then!"
He cocked his head to one side in disbelief and squinted his eyes in utter confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Look around you, Cassie!" He challenged, waving his lollipop in an all-encompassing gesture.
He looked around the room and sucked in air as well, but he didn't understand what the older Alpha was talking about.
The old woman Omega used to live in this apartment. When he'd first come here a few weeks ago, shortly after he'd met Dean, her scent was still in the walls, even though the apartment had been empty for months and even all the furniture had been moved. He had all the work done to rid the place of the smell, then hired an interior decorator to furnish the place. In Castiel's opinion, he succeeded. It wasn't his taste, he preferred antiques, but they carried the risk of unpleasant odors from their previous owners, and he didn't want to expose Dean to that. Not after all the years Omega had spent in cheap motels. He wanted the place he was going to give Dean to be perfectly clean, so Omega could furnish it to his liking. Maybe even build a nest, if only temporarily, until he could move into Castiel's lair.
Truth was, Dean hadn't even rearranged the dishes in the cupboards yet, and as far as Castiel could tell, he hadn't made any attempt to build a nest, even though he had a suitable bed and the facilities to do so. He was even willing to lend Gabriel one of his blankets without blinking an eye, and as was immediately apparent, he did so out of courtesy to his guest, not because he particularly liked Gabriel or considered him a member of his family. But Castiel thought it would take time. From what he remembered of school biology and the shared experiences of others, when Omegas were uprooted from their safe environment, they lost their nesting instinct. Dean had to get used to it before he let his nature out, and his reluctance had nothing to do with the apartment being unsuitable for him, but rather with how bad an Alpha father John Winchester was.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, come on! You have literally millions, and that's all you want to give your True Mate?" He waved the lollipop around again. "A small apartment in an old house renovated by a blind man?" He snorted with typical criticism. "That's not how the game is played, Cassie. You have to give him a lot more than that to keep him from running away. Beautiful young Omegas fall in love with grumpy old Alphas so they can live in fancy big houses and drive expensive cars and wear diamond collars."
"This isn't a game, and Dean isn't one of those Omega chicks you're fawning over who came to Miami specifically to become the permanent wife of a rich Alpha," he replied firmly, showing his teeth again. "I offered everything you're talking about, but he said no. He said he didn't care about money, and I believe him."
The other Alpha measured him with a long look before he sighed a little.
"The worst part is, so did I," he admitted, twirling the lollipop between his thumb and forefinger. "For a while there, I thought he had your knot in one hand and the other in your wallet, but no one like that would live in this apartment. And he'd definitely jump on the first Alpha willing to give him what he wants... and I mean me, of course," he said, pointing his thumb at his own chest. "Looks like you've stumbled upon the last uncorrupted and incorruptible Omega. The last... how do you spell it? A righteous man or something... Isn't that a bit ironic?"
He was ready to object, because the comparison to the biblical concept of a righteous man was too presumptuous even in Dean's case, but in the end he said nothing, because in a way Gabriel was right. His Omega may not have been the epitome of the biblical just man, but he had qualities that Castiel almost lacked, such as compassion and a sense of right and wrong.
"It's time for breakfast," Gabriel interrupted, patting his knee. "I'll see if I can make some pancakes while you make tea," he urged, getting up from the couch.
Castiel sent him off with a quick glance before turning off the TV and heading into the kitchen to join his brother, who was already searching the cupboards for flour and a bowl.
Notes:
Turkish honey is a confectionery that is sold in amusement parks and historical markets in the Czech Republic. It is prepared by whipping egg whites, cream and honey into a stiff mass and mixing in nuts.
The Aryan Brotherhood is a prison gang that now has about 20 to 25 thousand members in prisons across the United States. It was formed after '64 when previously segregated prisons were merged. Over 90% of AB members are either currently incarcerated or ex-convicts, but like other prison gangs, AB members include people who are not convicts. And while the majority of AB members joined for selfish reasons and have no actual record of racist crimes, this small group of "pure" people usually joined AB for ideological reasons.
Part of AB's ideology is not only hatred of black people, but also of homosexuals and Jews and anything that somehow opposes white heterosexual male world domination. Castiel, as a homosexual, is too "impure" for such a "pure" member of the AB to even shake hands with.
But the truth is that they are mainly involved in classic organized crime activities, rather than racist crimes.
Collars - In this universe, collars are not mandatory in the U.S. (with one specific exception), but they are a bone of contention. On one side are progressives and Omega organizations calling for a ban on their sale and wearing, and on the other side are more conservative people (including Omegas) who consider them an important part of the Alpha/Omega relationship. Then there are those who consider them just a "nice tradition" and only wear them on their Omegas during a wedding ceremony/mating celebration. Finally, there are the celebrities who either show off expensive collars with diamonds or made by famous designers, or buy such collars for their Omega partners.
Dean's take on the collar is that he's not a dog to wear a dog collar and tag.Gabriel and Castiel have the same resources, but different personalities. Gabriel lives his "American dream" with all that goes with it; a mansion, a house on the beach, a boat, lots of cars, endless parties... Castiel lives more modestly and doesn't want to stand out too much because it doesn't suit him.
Chapter 44
Notes:
I am not satisfied with this chapter. It's about nothing. Such a filler. I know for a fact that I wanted to express something in it, but somewhere in the middle I ran out of energy because I fell into a depressive episode that I'm still wallowing in. I don't know how long it will stick with me. Maybe I'll be fine tomorrow, maybe for weeks. I'm not sure if I can continue writing at all, because I can't write a coherent paragraph of plot.
I am sorry.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Dean..."
The sound of the voice surprised him a little. He opened his eyes sharply and his hand shot out from between the pillows, but the moment it touched the heated stock, he realized where he was and who was leaning over him. Castiel. His Alpha. He loosened his grip around the rough plastic, exhaled, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile.
"Alpha... Cas..." he murmured, and without thinking, wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
Alpha willingly let himself be pulled into Dean's arms, one hand on his hip and the other resting beside his head, returning the kiss with the same lazy energy with which Dean had offered it. He tasted of coffee, and his usual stubble was a little longer, so it tickled the sensitive skin of Dean's lip a little more. Not that it mattered, he just noticed.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel crooned as their slow kiss broke apart, moving his hand from her hip to his cheek.
He smiled back, running a hand through his messy dark hair. Looking at Cas' face, his dark blue eyes full of warmth and the deep lines of relaxation around his mouth and eyes, he felt a rush of warmth in his chest, accompanied by the satisfied spinning of his inner Omega. And the thought crossed his mind how nice it was that the first thing he saw in the morning was the face of his Alpha. Such a ridiculously romantic piece of shit, but he still enjoyed the feeling. The warmth, the peace, and the closeness of the happily sweet smell of roasting cherries.
"Are you awake?" Castiel asked the strange question.
Dean blinked, somehow belatedly realizing that his eyelids were drooping contentedly. He must have looked half asleep. He blinked quickly, only to find Alpha's question even more ridiculous than before as he became fully aware of the telltale pressure in his groin and the slightly uncomfortable friction of the blanket on the sensitive tip of his half-hard cock.
"Depends which part of me you ask," he chirped cheerfully, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh... really?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement and then, of course, without further ado, simply reached under the covers and grabbed Dean's half-hard cock. "Lucky for me..." he commented, so ridiculously serious that another small laugh escaped Dean's lips. The Alpha raised his eyebrows again before throwing off the blanket without hesitation, and a moment later he had his head between Dean's legs.
He couldn't do more than gasp in surprise as a hot warmth enveloped his cock and he choked the first moan into his own palm before he managed to find some pillows and press them to his face. He knew he was going to be damn loud because he always was when Cas was playing his game full of tongue, tight clamping lips and that nice absorbent feeling and he didn't want anyone to hear him. He clenched the sheets between his teeth and enjoyed the fast, intense ride to its pleasurable end, leaving him relaxed and even more satisfied than before.
With a sigh, he threw up his hands and stared at the ceiling as his rapid breathing slowly calmed. His view was obscured by Castiel's faintly smiling face. Forcing himself to stir, Dean let go of the pillows and dug his fingers back into Alpha's hair, ruffling it.
"Hey..."
"Hello again," Cas replied, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in an amused but warm smile.
He didn't know what time it was, and there wasn't much to tell since it was cloudy and drizzling outside. He didn't care anyway. He felt good, and he wanted to keep that feeling for a little while longer, and... at the same time, a compulsion he couldn't quite put a name to twisted in his brain. It must have come from his Omega, restless and content at the same time, and it permeated his body like nonexistent ants, making his hands move. Something to do... He wasn't sure what to do, so he occupied his hands with the nearest thing: the pillows behind his head.
He pulled them down, half-blindly, and with nervous movements straightened them to form a comfortable and soft mound that he could force his Alpha to lie on with a light pressure on his shoulder.As Castiel's head settled into the spot he had prepared for him, he felt such relief that he let out a long sigh, literally feeling every muscle in his shoulders and back relax. He didn't think much of it, it felt good and he was enjoying it so much. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, pulling himself up against him so that his naked body was resting against Alpha's fully clothed one, which felt a little strange. Especially when he realized that no matter how much Cas had just sucked him off, he wasn't aroused himself. Not physically. There was a hint of musk in his scent, but only a hint. Maybe he wasn't even happy in Dean's bed, it flashed through his mind, but luckily, before he could think about it and deduce something stupid, Cas had wrapped his arms around his naked back and leaned forward in a familiar gesture.
Dean didn't even hesitate, just dropped his chin to his chest and inhaled deeply the scent of cherry pie with almond crumble and honey and a hint of something typical of branding.
Castiel's chin brushed against his hair a few times and their scents mingled before the Alpha pulled away again and Dean lifted his head to look into his face. The wrinkles in it were deep, getting longer as he relaxed, the silver stubble that gently grazed his chin made him look a little older, and his lips were chapped and swollen, but he still looked damn sexy. And also so homely or something.
He ran his fingertips through the thick stubble.
"I like waking up like this," it came out, not even knowing where it came from.
Castiel grunted with enough amusement, narrowing his eyes so that Dean quickly realized what he was thinking. He assumed he was talking about blowjobs, which was great, of course, but...
"I didn't mean blowjob... I mean, sure, that too, because that was great, but..." here he hesitated, embarrassment taking hold of his tongue. But now that he had brought it up, he couldn't help but finish. "This is the first time we've slept together... I mean, slept, like really slept, and then woke up next to each other and... I like it... oh shit!" He sighed, annoyed at his own babbling, and closed his eyes for a moment. "Sorry. I know I'm talking shit..."
"I like waking up next to you too," he was half interrupted by Alpha's calm voice. Of course, he was not embarrassed at all by his confession, unlike Dean, whose embarrassment and shame were literally crawling up his spine.
In shame, he closed his eyes, rested his forehead against the wrinkled expensive shirt, and inhaled Castiel's confident scent as the Alpha gently stroked his head. Despite all the embarrassment, the touch of a strong, warm hand on the back of his neck, the comfortable bed, the mix of their scents, and probably a hint of post-orgasmic satisfaction... it all pushed a purring sensation into his throat. He wanted to push it away, as he always did, but... he'd been acting like a fucking needy Omega for the last two minutes, so if he was going to embarrass himself like that, why not go on for a while?
He let out the first spasm of purring, and at the same moment, Castiel's hand hesitated for a tiny moment before running through his hair again, before the Alpha leaned closer. Dean felt his chin on the top of his head, a burst of honeyed sweetness tickling his nose, and his heartbeat reached his ears, regular but a little faster than Castiel would have expected.
The silence, broken only by his own purring and the occasional rustle of fabric, stretched beautifully until it was broken.
"Zavtrak is ready! Breakfast! Finish up and get your lazy asses in the kitchen!" Gabriel's voice echoed through the door, along with a few fist bumps.
The purr caught in his throat, turned into a growl that he swallowed, barely able to form. And any more growls he would have preferred to swallow completely, after all... why should he be upset? There was no chance that Alpha Gabriel would decide to leave by morning or simply vanish into thin air. It was just that he didn't need to say anything at that moment.
"He's right. We should get up," Castiel snapped the last tendrils of Dean's contentment he was still clinging to and pulled away.
"Yeah, I know..." he agreed reluctantly, even being mature enough that instead of pulling the Alpha closer and forcing him to stay in the nest with him, as his cranky Omega had advised, he put his hands away and allowed him to stand.
Castiel took him by the chin, raised his face to his, planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
"I'll be in the kitchen."
He grumbled in agreement, and as soon as Alpha slid off the bed, he rolled onto his back so he could watch him walk to the door. When he opened it, Dean heard Gabriel knocking on the next door, calling Sam to breakfast as well. He frowned a little. He hoped that his little brother would be reasonable and not do something stupid like come out of his room with a gun or something. He should probably keep an eye on him, but first he had to check his phone, see what time it was, get dressed, and... He suck in some air. There was a pleasant mix of his and Cas's scents, enriched with the heavy aroma of sex. Mostly his own pleasure. Older, from the evening - if almost six in the morning could be considered late - when he'd come in Castiel's hard, hot fist. And then there was the one from this morning, still echoing pleasantly through his body.
He grabbed his phone and checked it. It was already half past seven in the morning. His class had started at eight, but Sammy didn't have class until nine today, so that was fine. He would just miss his first class. It wouldn't be the first time. Still, they'd have to hurry up with breakfast and everything, since they lived further away from school now and had to drive to get there. And the traffic sucked. In fact, the city sucked in general. Who would want to live in a giant anthill like that?
He also had a message from Kevin, reminding him not to forget today's math test, and some updates on Becky's social media. The usual stuff. Nothing interesting, and there was little of it anyway, as there always was when they stayed anywhere too long. It was easy to make friends at first because he was a new, interesting guy, even a rare male Omega who didn't act like a proper Omega. He was new to the school. But as time went by, he lost the charm of newness and his 'friends' and 'girls' lost interest and Dean honestly didn't know how to keep it and never even tried to find a way. They usually left town by then anyway, so why bother? But this time... this time it looked like he was going to be here forever, so he better figure something out.
He absently dropped his phone on the bed and reluctantly got up to adjust himself a bit. What he was least looking forward to was what he had to do first; get rid of their shared scent, and his own if possible.
So he dug the blockers out of his school bag, tapped a small bottle, and sprayed first his scent glands and then, just in case, more under his armpits and finally between his legs to cover the smell of sex, pleasure, and Castiel's saliva. If anyone smelled the older Alpha on him, there might be some stupid questions and stuff. That was something he wanted to avoid.
His nose was irritated by the typical burnt plastic smell, and he felt an unpleasant tingling in his scent glands.
The artificial smell was from the blockers breaking down the pheromone molecules or something, and the tingling was again a reaction to the substances inhibiting the glands' actual function. He noticed that when he used strong, high quality blockers repeatedly, it burned almost like ice. If it weren't for the fact that they made him smell as weak as Beta, he wouldn't have used them. In fact, he envied the Alphas and his own that for them, using blockers was more a matter of choice and convenience than a way to keep the meddling Knots and their unwilling hands off his body.
He pulled out the last clean pair of briefs and the last clean shirt - he'd have to wash them tonight - and after sniffing, chose the least smelly shirt and pants. He dressed quickly and left the bedroom.
From the bathroom they could hear the sound of water. It must have been Sam, because the two older Alphas were sitting at the kitchen table.
Castiel had chosen a seat with his back to the kitchen counter, the chair swiveling so he could stretch his legs comfortably, a lit cigarette in one hand, the tip of the cigarette resting over the ashtray, and a cup in the other hand. Alpha Gabriel had chosen a spot with the fridge behind him and the end of a long counter stretching across the room, and in front of him was a cup and... oh shit! Pancakes! He had a plate full of pancakes and more pancakes stacked on several plates in the middle of the table and when Dean sucked in the air he was drenched in their delicious smell, butter and jam and tea and coffee too, a damn good breakfast he didn't even have to make.
The door slammed behind him and Sam appeared at his side.
"Holy shit! This looks damn good!" He commented as he sat down.
"Spasibo. I'd make blinis, but you're out of yeast. You should stock up," Alpha Gabriel replied.
Dean looked up in surprise from the pancakes. Did he mean he'd cooked breakfast himself? Well, yeah, okay, of course Alphas could cook and all that, but like Cas, his older brother didn't seem to be the cooking type. Still, he was a damn Russian mob boss. They certainly don't fry pancakes.
"You cooked this?" Sammy, who had just taken the last available chair, formulated his thoughts.
"No. I had it magically materialized," Alpha Gabriel replied in an overly serious tone, adding a snap at the end of his sentence.
Sam frowned.
"I wouldn't say someone like you would cook," the little Alpha pointed out.
"Why?" the eldest of the Alphas raised an eyebrow and picked up a forkful of pancakes. "Because I'm an Alpha? Come on, puppy! Where did you grow up? A basement somewhere in Texas? It's the twenty-first century. The best and most famous chefs in the world are Alphas."
"No, I meant because you're..." here Sam paused, fell silent, his scent filled with uncertainty.
"I'm what?"
"A scary and dangerous Russian mobster," Castiel finished in a perfectly calm tone.
Alpha Gabriel cocked his head and laughed out loud. It was a laugh full of glee, and much softer and ringing than Castiel's, and more importantly, much more expressive. The two were not alike in that way. Even when his Alpha laughed, it was never as loud, and his laugh was rich and thick, sort of shrill, like honey with a splash of whiskey or something.
"I swear!" Alpha Gabriel said laughing, crossing the blunt side of his fork over his heart. "There's not a ground horse's head in it. But," he grinned in amusement and shoved a bite into his mouth to continue, "it's true I didn't learn to cook until I was in prison. That was after the year two thousand. That's when the western mannerisms of psychological testing, group therapy, detoxification and re-education programs came to our prisons. Some young idealist thought that if the Alpha convicts learned to cook, fix cars or make vases on the potter's wheel, they would tame themselves and fit into society," he fingered the air quotes around "tame"; another common family trait, apparently. "I already knew how to steal cars, and I loathed wet clay, so I took up cooking."
"Ridiculous effort," Castiel pointed out. "Besides, I can imagine how frustrating it must be for the staff to retrain people like us. All it takes is one look," he choked on his cigarette, raising his hand and curling his fingers, probably to draw attention to his tattoo, "for them to know it's futile. They should focus on those who have even the slightest hope of rehabilitation, and maybe even want it."
"I'm not complaining. I turned out to be a great cook and an even better baker and confectioner," Alpha Gabriel declared proudly.
"Maybe even people like you are worth rehabilitating," Sam echoed.
The two older Alphas looked at him, were silent for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Gabriel's turned into this soft ringing, while Castiel's was more of a loud, long chuckle than a real laugh.
" Da... da, definitely standing, puppy," Castiel nodded in amusement. "But there have always been far more worth joining us than leaving us."
While neither Castiel's nor Gabriel's scent had changed in any way, they were calm and unaffected by the argument with Little Alpha, there was a rush of tainted oil in Sam's scent. Dean decided it was the best time to intervene and stood up, cup in hand.
"Who wants coffee and who wants tea?" He asked.
"Tea," Sammy grumbled.
"Coffee for me, dorogay," Castiel requested, picking up the cup to hand it to him.
Taking his brother's cup from the table and Alpha's from his hand, he walked behind Cas and when he was at his side, a strong arm suddenly shot out and Castiel pulled him close. He only managed to raise his hands holding the three cups, in surprise, lest Alpha knock them out of his hand as he buried his nose in his side.
Actually, more into the pelvic bone his jeans were clinging to. And sucked deeply.
"You used the blockers..."
"Um... yeah. I'm going to school," he explained, a little confused. What did he expect? As much as he wanted to walk around with Castiel's scent all over him, he couldn't. Maybe that was obvious.
Or maybe not, because the Alpha narrowed his eyes slightly and tilted his head a little in what looked like incipient incomprehension before his expression changed, as if he realized what the implications of his scent might be. And you could tell by the furrow in his brow that he didn't like those consequences. But he said nothing and let Dean go. Easily, and he didn't forgive himself for sliding his hand down his back a little lower than would have been polite. In fact, just a little, his hand would have been right on his ass. It was definitely an intimate enough touch for the other two Alphas to notice, and while Sam commented on his with a small frown, Alpha Gabriel looked pleased and waved him over with his cup in a toast. What an idiot.
He frowned at first, then remembered what he had and looked away. He quickly poured two cups of hot coffee and then struggled a bit with the strange teapot, but in the end it wasn't that hard. And the tea smelled surprisingly good.
He placed the cup of tea in front of Sam, himself and Case and sat down at the quiet table with his pancakes. The silence of all participants was annoying and would have required at least some music, but at least the smells in the room became a great mixture of the smell of fresh pancakes and three Alphas.
He devoured one pancake after the other, checking the Alphas around him out of the corner of his eye. Gabriel was eating, Sammy too, and Castiel was sipping his coffee, watching something unfocused on the wall, though their eyes met several times. . Then the Alpha glanced in his direction in the same quick check. He'd just had a chance to see the warm blue lagoon when Sam spat out the tea.
"What the hell...?" He growled, uncharacteristically rude for him, and grinned at the cup. "It's got salt in it!" He pointed indignantly at the sugar bowl in the middle of the table. It was pretty, it matched the dishes, and it was one of those things they never used because a big bag of little bags of sugar was cheap and easy to carry in the backseat of the car.
"Really? Weird," Alpha Gabriel commented as Castiel made a vague noise and rolled his eyes. "Anyway... what are we going to do today? We should take a trip. Strengthen our relationships as... sem'ya... family."
"We have to go to school," he reminded, and just as he remembered, his gaze slid to the microwave, which already said it was eight twenty. Damn it! "Speaking of which, we have to go now... like right now. Come on, Sammy, get your stuff," he urged his brother, who didn't object - when Sam had to go to school, he never did - and started to get up, as did Dean, who also started to pick up their plates from the table. "We're going to get a ride, right?" he assured himself on his way to the trash can, picking up the last few pieces of pancakes with his fingers.
"Sure. The guys are waiting downstairs as usual."
"Good, good..." he paused and hesitated, his eyes darting from one Alpha to the next. He couldn't tell them well enough to leave, though in the case of Alpha Gabriel he'd be happy to do so, and they didn't look like they were planning on getting up and leaving anytime soon. Okay, okay. He had to work with what he had. "You're staying, I suppose... um, aren't you?"
"Da," Alpha Gabriel replied. "We didn't finish," he gestured with his fork to the pile of pancakes. "And there's enough here for the whole cavalry. Are you sure you don't want to stay, have a proper breakfast, and then do something more fun than school?"
He glanced at Castiel, who returned the look with a calm face, holding his cup with perfect ease, and as he took in the scent of it, he felt nothing to give him any clue as to what answer he wanted. If it had only been Dean himself, he would have stayed if his Alpha had wanted him to. He only went to school because their Alpha dad had some sort of idea that he needed to finish high school, even though his prospects for college were about as realistic as moving away for a moon and never really caring about anything other than continuing to travel the States or fixing cars. Then again, a nice piece of paper wasn't all that necessary for that. But Sam still had hope for a better future, perhaps even more now than before, given the security Castiel had brought them.
"Sam has to go to school and I have a math test," he finally refused.
"Sure, Din," Cas agreed, to his small, stupid relief, taking his hand and kissing the back of it as he rested his cheek against his fingers, eyes raised to his, and continued, "Gabriel's staying at least until tonight. We'll pick you up after school and do something this afternoon, da? As a family..."
"Yeah, sure," he replied immediately; not that he had any interest in spending time with Castiel's brother, but his Alpha was obviously happy with him, and if it made him happy... Dean wanted him to be happy. "Can you put the dishes in the sink? Then I'll wash them..."
"Sure. It's your nest, you give the orders, Omega." Castiel said with ridiculous seriousness, even using his secondary gender, something he had done even less of since their serious conversation.
Dean just pursed his lips to keep from grinning. Of course, the kitchen was his 'nest' and of course he made decisions there, because Omegas were supposed to be in the kitchen.
He had learned a lot about how to decide the rest last night, and it hadn't been very glorious. No... he interrupted himself. He shouldn't have or didn't want to get upset again, this morning hadn't been that bad. It had definitely started well, he'd had a good breakfast, everything was so cozy and his Omega actually liked it, even if Gabriel was here. He didn't want to spoil it, so instead he leaned down to give Case a quick peck on the lips.
"I'll be in touch," he said as he pulled away, casting a quick glance at Gabriel, who was watching them and chewing, then pulled his hand out of Castiel's grasp and headed for his room, fluttering as he checked to see if Sam was ready.
When they left a few moments later, the two older Alphas were sitting at the table, talking quietly in Russian.
Notes:
Traditional Russian blinis, unlike pancakes, are made with yeast dough. They can be made from single or double leavened dough, or diluted (with water, milk) leavened dough. The most traditional blinis are baked in the oven, but nowadays they are commonly pan-fried, both in fat and dry. Blini can be eaten sweet (with jam, canned fruit, sour cream, whipped cream and, yes, nowadays with maple syrup) or savory (with caviar, meat or cheese).
In Russia, of course, they make ordinary pancakes from unleavened dough.
Chapter 45
Notes:
Thank you all for your support and wishes for me to get better. And as always, thank you to everyone who read the story and liked it, because knowing that always makes me happy. Anyway... I think I'm back to 100% and delivering a long chapter. Enjoy the read.
...
Warning! In this chapter, Sam has an erection. It's not described, no one sees his penis, nothing sexual happens. If you're uncomfortable with reading only the mention of an erection on someone under the age of fifteen, skip the chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"I feel like I'm in an old spy movie," Sam muttered, not looking up from the steady drizzle that passed outside the window of the moving car and smoothing the bag of bird flyers he'd gotten at school. Dean didn't know what they were for because the little Alpha wouldn't tell him. He just mumbled that it was for a school project, and even after he insisted, he wouldn't elaborate, just growling irritably and showing his fangs in a way that looked like real anger. Not that Dean was afraid of him or anything, he hardly felt any Omega respect, but he figured he wouldn't tease his brother unnecessarily. He'd had a rough night too.
Anyway, he was right about that. It was like a movie. Ginger and Mr. Eyebrows had picked them up at the school, just to take them to the meeting place with Castiel, which, as it turned out, was barely fifteen minutes away from the school and in an underground garage. That gave it an even stronger Mafia flavor. It was actually kind of funny.
They pulled into one of the free parking spaces, Arslan opened it for them, and when they got out, Castiel's limo was in sight. Okay, now it made some sense why he wanted to meet here instead of coming directly to the school. After all, while even a flashy Mercedes could get lost, the limo certainly wouldn't escape the attention of his classmates, and it was rich enough that Forest had seen it once with the Alpha's men.
"I hope we're going to eat. I'm hungry enough to eat bottle caps," he remarked on the way to the limo.
Sam let out an amused snort.
"You could really eat them and maybe even digest them. You're the Toxic Avenger's uglier twin."
"Yeah... hmm... you're right. And you know what?" He threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "If I'm the uglier twin, you're the Avenger himself. Only the beast has to come down." He grabbed him by the back of his hair and yanked hard until a ridiculously angry growl and a hiss of pain emanated from Sam's throat at the same time.
"Don't touch my hair, jerk." He flashed his fangs.
Dean just chuckled and slapped the back of his head, but didn't get a chance to respond as Arslan opened the limo door for them. He hesitated just long enough to prepare himself that Castiel's brother would be there in addition to the welcome company of his Alpha, and he leaned into the limo first.
The first thing that hit his nose was the scent of an aroused Alpha, but it wasn't Castiel's scent, so it immediately made him alert and his eyes sought out Alpha Gabriel. He was sitting across the bar, comfortably stretched out, legs spread, and he didn't look like the arousal was coming from him at all. In fact, he was staring boredly at his phone and holding a vape in his hand. Dean guessed that was where the intense and very artificial tasting bubble gum smell was coming from, mixing with the bitter smell of cigarettes, the sweet smell of marijuana, and of course, the freshly baked cherry pie and cashew nuts with rum.
"Dean," Castiel's deep voice interrupted his thoughts.
With a glance in his direction, the tension in his shoulders eased and he slid into the seat next to his Alpha, who was sitting next to the bar. He hadn't even had time to sling the bag off his shoulder before he had Cas's big hand in the hair at the back of his neck, the other tucked under his shirt and resting on his bare stomach, and his deft tongue in his mouth. And the smell of alcohol tickled his nose, and the familiar taste of not just cigarettes but joints in his mouth again. Both were very strong on Castiel, though even from the fleeting glimpse he'd managed to get of him, the Alpha had changed clothes and probably showered. He was definitely freshly shaved.
Something had kicked his shoe.
It was then that he realized Sam was following him, so he broke the kiss and grabbed Castiel's searching hand.
"Sam's here," he said half-loud, pulling back so far that the Alpha had to release his hand even if he didn't want to.
Castiel acknowledged his comment and leaned back in his seat, though he kept his arm around Dean's shoulders.
He took off his bag, dropped it on the floor, and kicked under the seat before glancing over Case to see the little Alpha who had managed to squeeze into the back of the limo and take a seat in the open space on the other side of the bar. He sat in the far corner to be as far away from the two adult Alphas as possible.
"Have you seen my girl outside?" Alpha Gabriel lifted his head from the phone.
"No. I haven't seen anyone outside," he replied.
"Strange... it's been a while since she went to the bathroom," the older of the Alphas said thoughtfully.
"Maybe she ran off with your money," Sam commented acidly.
"Why would she do that? Sharon adores me," Gabriel replied, taking a drag from his vape and frowning. "I hope she's okay." It sounded almost sincere, although it was hard to believe.
Just then, the door to Dean's left opened.
"It's awfully cold outside," the Beta from last night said in greeting; he recognized her voice even without looking up at her, for it was pleasantly melodious and deep, and he recognized her scent, though this time the breeze was light, as it should be with a Beta. "I had to walk all the way to the other end of the parking lot in the cold," she complained, sitting down next to Gabriel, who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his side. Beta rested her forearm on his shoulder and willingly snuggled against him.
She wasn't wearing the red dress from last night, but a black one with a gold pattern, long sleeves and a neckline that revealed her entire shoulders. Gold earrings fell from under her hair to her dark skin, and she wore gold pumps on her long, slender legs, which she stretched elegantly into the space between the seats. She was really damn beautiful and didn't look like the gas station girls or the ones he'd met on the streets of the nightlife city.
With narrowed eyes, she looked first at Dean and then at Sammy before turning to Alpha Gabriel.
"Will you introduce us, Gabe?"
"With pleasure, Solntse," Alpha Gabriel replied with a hint of pure in his voice and kissed Beta on the cheek. "Gentlemen, this beautiful woman is Sharon," he introduced Beta with exaggerated grandeur, then motioned with his vape in Dean's direction, "that manly blond Omega over there, whom you know from yesterday, is Dean, my future brother-in-law and thus little half-brother."
"Nice to meet Omega who just stole Castiel's heart," Beta said as if she knew Castiel.
His Omega growled for who knows why, and before he fully realized it, he placed his hand high on Cas' thigh, making it clear that only he could touch it.
"Yeah... nice to meet you, too," he replied neutrally, partly because he didn't like the fact that some prostitute knew his Alpha - yes, it was ridiculous, Castiel probably knew dozens of prostitutes, but still - but also because he wasn't sure what he actually said to women like her. Nothing against street girls, everyone had to make a living somehow, and Dean wasn't exactly innocent himself with his light fingers, but he'd never had a real conversation with a hooker. They weren't interested in him because he didn't look like he had any money and was probably too young to be a customer. In fact, they assumed he was an Omega who wanted to steal their asses, so he avoided them after his experience with the thrown shoe. Regardless, their Alpha had told him it wasn't the company for him, mostly because where there were hookers, there were pimps and police.
Sharon measured him with a look, a little judgmental but not really unpleasant, before looking at the little Alpha.
"And that cute young man over there in the corner?" She nodded at a frowning Sam.
"That's Dean's younger Alpha brother; Moose."
"I'm not cute and my name is Sam."
Alpha Gabriel gave Sammy an amused look.
"Right. Sam," the Alpha repeated importantly. "Now that we've had such a nice introduction, where are we going?"
"To finally eat," Castiel replied, to which not only Dean agreed, but especially his empty stomach, which grumbled in agreement at the mere thought of food.
"Good idea! I found an amazing konditerskuyu just down the street," Alpha Gabriel replied, quickly pulling out his phone to show everyone the website of a pastry shop with a cheerful interior. "They have forty flavors of ice cream and especially adorable decorated cupcakes."
"You're stoned, Gabriel," Cas said simply with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll let Golem take us to the Doll," he said, reaching up to the ceiling where there was a panel of buttons and probably a speaker to communicate with the driver.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Gabriel gestured with his hand. "Well, we need to talk about this. Why Doll?"
Castiel tilted his head in a typical gesture of mild disbelief.
"They cook a real hot meal there."
"Yes, that..." The older Alpha shook his head. "Let me remind you that I left dear Mother Russia and moved to the other side of the civilized world, never to eat boiled cabbage again in my life. I'm not going to Doll."
"And I'm not going to eat ice cream and cupcakes. I'm not a puppy," Castiel growled back.
Gabriel growled back immediately, baring his fangs. Of course, Cas wasn't having any of that. With another growl from the back of his throat, he not only took a pose, he kicked out his leg, bringing the edge of the seat so uncomfortably close to Gabriel's crotch that the mere thought gave Dean goosebumps. Not to mention the rush of bitter almond scent that suddenly filled the limo and immediately mingled with the acrid smell of spilled rum. The two Alphas snarled at each other, teeth bared, chins raised and eyes flashing with rage.
Dean's Omega was tempted to turn on his back, but he backed her into a corner, for this was not a real precursor to a fight. Wasn't it? Alphas might be idiots, but certainly not big enough to fight over where they were going to eat. Well... although, considering that Cas was willing to point a gun at his brother and Gabriel clearly thought it was funny, maybe they found it just as entertaining to break a few bones with each other. As if he'd never met Alphas like that before.
He shot a quick glance at Sam, who was watching the whole situation from his seat, gripping the strap of the bag still slung over his shoulder tightly, his lips quivering slightly. When he sucked in air, he could smell the tainted olive oil under all the rum and almonds. Okay, fine. He decided it was best to intervene after all. Just in case. And especially before he stunk up the place with his own Omega scent.
"Hey, how about we just go somewhere else?" he suggested to the tense atmosphere.
"Net!" Castil replied through bared teeth and without looking at him. "It must be either Doll or Gabriel's konditerskuya."
Okay, this was ridiculous. These were two grown men, hell, they were career criminals, and they were obviously going to fight over where to go for lunch because it was probably a matter of Alpha honor and shit like that.
"Exactly," Gabriel grunted in agreement, and for a moment it looked like he was going to show his full fangs, so much so that he exposed his teeth, including his gums, when suddenly... there... as if from nowhere, his aggressive expression disappeared, replaced by something Dean couldn't name, but didn't particularly like. "I have a suggestion, brat. We'll let Omega decide."
So that was why Dean didn't like his expression.
"Okay," Castiel agreed without hesitation, loosening his tense stance so that most of his weight rested on Dean's shoulders, his intense blue gaze fixed on him as well. "A proper meal at Doll, or ice cream and a cupcake?"
He wanted to please Castiel, he really did. You could tell it was about all his instincts wanted, but, man, going to the Doll meant he might find borscht on his table again. And besides, it was the place where he'd not only had his first date with Castiel, he'd usually sucked him off right in the back room and paraded his naked ass on the very table where they'd probably be having lunch. He couldn't sit there stone-faced and he wasn't going to let Sam eat there. It just wasn't going to happen, just like it never.
"I'm sorry, Alpha, but..." he began carefully. "I think I prefer ice cream."
"Yeah! I knew you'd be on my side!" Gabriel rejoiced.
Castiel snorted in displeasure, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. The angry tension that had curled his lips over his teeth just a second ago was simply gone, and the deep furrows of wrinkles around his eyes spoke volumes that he was actually pleased. As did the new undertone of sweet scent that made Dean lean in and sniff.
"Alright. No Doll. Give Golem the address," Castiel urged his brother, quickly pressing his lips to Dean's cheek and with a "Wait," he slipped away to the bar, taking the source of his pleasant scent with him.
Instinctively, he leaned in behind him, only catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of Gabriel dictating the address into the limo's intercom and glancing over Castiel's shoulder at the bar. The Alpha took a nearly empty bag of weed, a box of papers, and a rolling machine from the polished glass. Dean remembered that their dad had had one too. It was antique, metal, with a lighter. Family heirloom or something. But of course it didn't look as fancy as Cas's. It was gold-plated and full of engraved ornaments, the kind you'd see either in old junk shops or on very expensive smoking paraphernalia sites.
Castiel leaned back in his seat, crossed his outstretched legs at the ankles, put all his things on his lap, and began to pack.
"We must toast our first alliance, Dean," Alpha Gabriel addressed him enthusiastically. "Solntse... Bring out the champagne," he ordered Beta, who immediately complied.
She untied herself from Gabriel's side and slid up the seat to face Sam. Before leaning over to open the fridge under the back window, she sent a sweet smile in the direction of little Alpha. Sammy's cheeks flushed under her gaze, and he ducked his head down to the bag he had pressed against his hip, which he also clutched tighter. Sharon hadn't noticed anything, of course, and she took a cold bottle of champagne from the fridge - no, Dean wasn't looking forward to tasting it. He would have been more interested in the bottle or two of beer he'd discovered in the fridge as well - and returned to her place at Gabriel's side.
The older of the two Alphas had already managed to get glasses from the bar and started handing them out. He gave the first one to Castiel, who had to put his unfinished cigarette on his lap to do so. Gabriel pushed another into Dean's hand and then reached over to give Sam one as well.
Dean immediately frowned.
"Hey! He was twelve yesterday and he's twelve today," Gabriel pointed out.
"Let him have some fun," Castiel said, much to Dean's surprise.
"He's still a puppy."
"It's just champagne, and he's an Alpha. He'll hardly notice there's alcohol in it," his Alpha said condescendingly, which Dean commented with another frown and took a breath to protest, but Castiel wouldn't let him speak, "I understand you don't want him drinking vodka. It's a man's drink. But how about a mimosa? That's orange juice with champagne, and Gabriel only puts a little of that in it."
"If he's really only twelve, we shouldn't make him do it if he doesn't want to," Sharon interjected, immediately scoring extra points with Dean.
Castiel gave Beta a cold stare that immediately caused her to lower her eyes and head.
"But he wants to, doesn't he, puppy? You'd go with us, right?" He turned to Sam. It was something he had probably never done before, or at least Dean couldn't remember ever addressing Sam, so it was understandable that the little Alpha looked surprised.
Of course, the surprise only stayed on his face for a moment and was quickly replaced by a certain tension that was surely the result of Sam lifting his chin and puffing out his chest in an Alpha pose that, while it couldn't match the way Castiel or, ultimately, Gabriel stood, but yeah... it was pretty good.
"Yeah. Sure. Why not?" He agreed, how else could he, looking at Dean with an attempt at sovereignty in his face and eyes that any Alpha would talk to an Omega with, and of course he could shove up his ass. "I can handle a bit of champagne, Dean. I'm not little anymore."
He pursed his lips. Of course, Sammy was a goddamn little puppy, no matter how much he tried to look like an adult, dominant Alpha, and deserved to be put in his place, but... Dean glanced around quickly. Okay, yes, he understood why his brother was acting this way. He was in the company of two other Alphas, and he didn't want to look weak and childish in front of them. And he'd be a bad brother if he humiliated him on purpose.
"Fine..." he finally agreed. "But just one drink!" He emphasized with a raised finger.
"Otlichno!" Gabriel rejoiced, grabbing the small bottle of juice that Castiel had promptly pulled from the bar. "Pour it for our little moose," he urged Sharon, handing her the bottle.
Beta poured Sam half a glass and gave him another smile that made the little Alpha look down nervously. Meanwhile, Gabriel started to open the bottle.
Dean was expecting a big show, like in the movies, and he somehow wondered what fun it would be if the cork blew out one of the windows or flew into the older Alpha's eye. So it was a little disappointing that Gabriel had opened the bottle without the usual theatrics. There was just a little peeling, a little rustling, and a little bit of bubbly champagne came out of the neck of the bottle, but the cork stayed in Alpha's hand. In addition, a rather pleasant scent wafted through the limousine, which probably surprised Dean the most. There was no smell of vinegar or grapes left on the back window of the Impala overnight. The scent was much more delicate, a little sweet and a little earthy, and Dean couldn't help but sniff the glass as Alpha Gabriel finally filled it for him.
He caught Castiel's intent gaze and quickly put the glass down. Maybe sniffing wasn't polite or something. And he looked over at Sam, who was clutching a glass full to the brim.Hmm, well, it certainly wasn't just 'a bit of champagne', but it was watered down.
"Let's toast not only to good company..." He cupped Sharon's chin lightly in his palm; Beta narrowed her eyes, the sound very similar to the purr Dean had heard from her yesterday. "But also the family... Both the old one," he gestured with his glass at Castiel, who responded with a deep growl, his fangs showing, but his scent fading, "and the new one," he gestured at Dean and Sam. "Cheers!" He raised his glass.
"Bog blagoslovil!" Castiel joined in the toast, letting his glass be the first to collide with Gabriel's in a small clash.
Sharon joined in right away, Dean followed, and Sam was the last to join in. All of their glasses collided in the middle with a clatter. Both the older Alphas and Beta took a sip with alacrity - Castiel took a sip before setting his glass down on the bar and going back to packing the joint - Dean hesitated, sniffing the champagne again discreetly before taking a small sip. He was surprised that it didn't taste like vinegar, like all the wines he'd ever had. It was actually quite good. He didn't hesitate and drank so deeply that the entire contents of the glass disappeared inside him. The alcohol and the bubbles made him feel warm and itchy in his mouth, throat and stomach.
Gabriel's laughter rang out.
"You two should slow down! We only have three bottles left."
He frowned and looked down at his empty glass. But it didn't stay empty for long, Alpha Gabriel immediately filled it up and then leaned in Sam's direction. The little Alpha had also emptied his glass in one gulp and was now reaching for the bottle.
"I only said one glass," he said sternly and tried to stand up and take Sammy's empty glass to prevent him from drinking more.
He hadn't expected to be grabbed around the waist by his Alpha's strong arm and pulled back into the seat. And then he was pressed against Castiel's side with so much force that he had to make a real effort to pull away.
"Hey! What the hell...?" He froze before he could curse any more, and a warning light went off in his head, warning him to be a 'good Omega'.
"Don't be so nadoyedlivoy, dorogay," Castiel growled in his ear, planting a wet, marijuana-scented kiss on the corner of his lips and placing a lit joint in front of him. "Take it and relax a little. Have fun, like your brother."
"This isn't exactly fun for kids."
"I think he's happy, so why do you want to spoil it for him?" Castiel raised a questioning eyebrow. "Don't worry about him, Din. He won't get hurt with us. Trust me," the Alpha said with a confidence that was hard to resist, offering Dean another sweet-smelling cigarette.
He frowned, but didn't object further and took the joint. It was pretty hard to resist and besides, maybe Cas was right. Maybe he was overreacting a bit. The champagne was strong like wine, it wasn't vodka or bourbon. And Sammy was almost thirteen, not three, and he was an Alpha. Two drinks probably wouldn't be a problem for him.
Still, he remained tense, and even his Omega, otherwise content in the haze of Castiel's scent, was restless in a strange way. Surely, concern for Sammy was behind it... He cast a quick glance at him, only to find that he'd already poured another glass, was just stretching his legs, and his previously somber expression relaxed a bit. He was obviously calmer, and when Dean sniffed the mixture of smells diluted by the air conditioning on full blast, he actually smelled just a hint of tainted oil. It looked like he didn't have to worry about it, but the uneasiness didn't go away anyway.
He put the cigarette between his lips and sucked the smoke with a familiar taste that was itself a harbinger of the feeling of relaxation that would soon come. He still didn't like the fact that Sam had a glass of champagne in his hand, but he didn't want to worry about it anymore. And when he let the smoke out of his mouth, he also stopped worrying about his inner tension, although he still thought about it. About the feeling that his skin was too small and too warm...
Wait a minute... He frowned and started counting in his head.
The last time he'd had heat was when they were in some backwater in Nevada. He remembered it all too well because it had been fucking hot. He'd spent most of the four days lying on the bathroom tiles or crawling in the bathtub. And he was so sick he couldn't even stand to jerk off. The only small consolation was a fan, but it didn't work every once in a while because the county authorities took turns shutting off the power to keep the grid from collapsing. That was how hot it was that week. So it must have been July or August, so it was -- it was about two and a half, maybe three months. Ninety days. Oh, shit! Shit! Shit! That weird feeling he'd been getting... the nervousness... the way he'd been horny and stupidly clingy these past few days... those were signs of impending heat.
"You smell unusually good today," Cas purred contentedly in his ear, rubbing his nose against his neck, his words seeming to confirm Dean's thoughts.
Pulling away, he turned to Cas and opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. It earned him a questioning raised eyebrow. He looked away and quickly took another breath. What the hell had possessed him to blurt out that he would soon be in heat in front of so many people. Or why he wanted to talk about it at all.It wasn't Castiel's thing... or was it? He guessed that since Castiel was his... Alpha Mate, it was probably his business, too. Couples spent their cycles together, right?
The thought of him being with Cas at that time brought up a lot of conflicting feelings. His Omega wanted it badly. Even now, when he thought about it, she was singing 'yes, yes, yes' enthusiastically, but the idea made Dean's insides twist with apprehension. If he was going to spend the heat with Castiel, the Alpha would rightly expect everything. He'd want to fuck and knotting Dean, and frankly, he'd want to because he felt desperately empty during his heat. It was just that the last time they'd tried anything more than sucking and jerking off, it had gone so damn wrong. Would it have been easier in heat? Could Cas shove his massive cock up his ass without it hurting like hell? What if his heat triggered Castiel's rut? Things like that happened, and just the thought made his stomach clench so tight he could feel it all the way down his throat. The smell of Alpha rut was something he never wanted to smell again. A foul, rotten, hot and wet stench in his throat and ear...
"You'll have to ask our host about that," Gabriel's unmistakable voice slipped into his thoughts. He was damned grateful for the interruption.
He concentrated on Alpha and Sharon, who was still leaning against his side, a hand on his thigh, and had just cast an oblique glance at Sam.
Castiel let out a questioning huff at his side, took the joint from Dean, and glanced at Beta, eyes narrowed, head tilted slightly to the side.
"I was wondering," she leaned forward and gave the little Alpha another quick look until what she had to say seemed to somehow concern him, "if we had any candy? The Russian ones are the best," she added in a haunting voice.
"Da... da... we could find something," Cas replied simply, taking a drag and putting his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar. "Move over a bit," he asked Dean.
That meant moving away from the Alpha, which neither he nor his Omega liked, but he obeyed and sat up enough for Cas to lift the part of the seat Dean was sitting on. He assumed that was what he wanted to do, and he did it. He flipped the seat back to reveal the compartment underneath, which this time wasn't full of cleaning products and of course wasn't full of actual candy. Only a fool would expect that. There were plastic bags full of drugs. There was no other way to describe it. To be precise, there was nothing like coke or heroin, no white powder, but there were pills of various sizes, colors, and shapes.
Castiel ran his long fingers over the bags, like a secretary in an old movie looking for something in a filing cabinet, and confidently pulled out a bag containing two light pink pills. While Dean had no idea what they could be, Alpha was able to make his way through the pile without a moment's hesitation. It should have been disturbing, but it wasn't. It was somehow to be expected.
The Beta leaned even more over the space between the seats and took another quick look at Sam, who was watching her. It was then that Dean realized what she was doing.She was trying to hide from the little Alpha what she was taking from Castiel. Okay, that was probably a good idea. Sammy really didn't need to see that.
"Brat...!" Castiel raised his voice a little, and instead of handing the bag to Sharon, he tossed it to the Alpha Gabriel, who caught it in flight with bravado.
The Beta straightened abruptly, her gaze returning to Sam as Castiel flashed his golden fangs in her direction with a predatory, amused grin.
"I won't say you're a shchedryy khozyain, because I know you'll send me the bill," Gabriel grinned amusedly, emptying the pills into his palm. "Open your mouth, sweetheart."
"I'm not charity," Castiel replied, taking a still-burning cigarette from the ashtray and taking a drag before handing it to Dean, his arm moving back around Dean's shoulders.
Frowning, he took the cigarette.
"Can you not do that in front of Sam..." he half demanded at the sight of Alpha Gabriel placing the pill directly on Beta's crawling tongue. She might have been reluctant before, but given the choice of not showing such things in front of the puppy or the drug, she naturally chose the latter and willingly gave the performance that was probably expected of her. Satisfied twist, lascivious smile and all, just like in the movie and most of all to Gabriel's amusement and great satisfaction.
"I'm fine. I don't mind," Sam echoed.
"See? He doesn't mind," Gabriel motioned with his glass in Sam's direction. "Maybe he could teach you not to be such a grump. What do you say, Moosy? Show your brother how to have fun?" He asked cheerfully, but before Sam could answer, the Alpha leaned over to Sharon and said: "How about you sit with him, Solntse. I'm sure he'll enjoy your company."
Beta quickly looked at Sam.
"I don't think..." Beta began.
"Do you want the other one?" Gabriel held the second pill in front of her face. "Go to him and show the morons here a good time."
Whatever the pink pills were, Sharon wanted them so badly that she got up without protest and crossed the aisle that separated her seat from the one between Sam and the back of the limo, slightly bent and a little wobbly from the high heels and the rocking limo, and sat down. The little Alpha looked instantly panicked, and Dean, despite the taste of marijuana in his mouth, detected a hint of the familiar scent of embarrassment and insecurity that belonged to his brother, but underneath it, something else. It wasn't fear or anger, and he was pretty sure it wasn't the smell of any other negative emotion. He was just as sure that it was coming from Sam. It made his Omega a little nervous, but he forced himself to stay calm for now. The Beta didn't do anything to hurt his pup, she just sat down next to him. It would be stupid to protest. Surely this was nothing more than Sam making a little uncomfortable because a stranger was talking to him.
"Hey, puppy."
"Um... ma'am..."He dropped his eyes nervously.
Sam wasn't the most sociable person, and he'd had trouble talking to strangers as a kid, but he hadn't been this shy in a long time.
"Are those feathers?" Beta asked, looking at the bag that had been lying on Sam's lap the whole time.
"Yeah, it's..."
"What do you have it for?"
"A school project... on aerodynamics. I'm supposed to... um, describe how birds use lift in... flight and how feathers help them do it. That's... that's why feathers. I'm supposed to study it..."
"Can I see?" She asked, but she'd already taken the bag from his lap. She touched Sam's hand. His face went red at that moment, and Dean felt a distinct and strong whiff of raw Alpha arousal that was both strangely familiar and utterly repulsive. It was as if someone had shoved a used jockstrap down his throat. It was so strong that for a moment he wondered if the marijuana had somehow messed with his sense of smell. But Castiel sucked in air loudly, and Gabriel even lifted his head in a typical fanning gesture. Both Alphas smelled the same thing, and since they were both breathing, the smell wasn't coming from them. That meant it had to be coming from...
"Hey, that's enough, okay? You've had your fun and that's it."
"Calm down, Omega," Castiel admonished him.
He glared at his Alpha. If he found this amusing, he could kiss his ass. Dean wasn't going to let his little brother be bothered by some damn cheap hooker.
Shitting on what a proper Omega should do, he just pushed the Alpha's hand off his shoulder and stood up to put an end to this shit.
The limo was tall enough for him to stand up and just touch his head to the ceiling, but it was too short to be comfortable. So he stayed slightly bent over, one arm propped against the ceiling, and bared his teeth at Beta with a warning growl.
"Get away from him!" He ordered, swallowing the word 'bitch' realizing in the corner of the rational part of his brain that she hadn't started all this. She might have refused, but Gabriel Fucking Lazarov was the main instigator.
"Okay, sure, Omega. I won't hurt your puppy," Beta said hastily, the bag of feathers falling to the ground as she raised both hands, palms facing Dean, and tilted her head to the side, showing her neck, and began to stand. At least she was aware of how dangerous an Omega could be if he thought someone was threatening his pup, and while Sammy wasn't technically Dean's child, he was his younger brother. He'd been looking after him since he was five or six. He was as close to his own puppy as he could be.
He gave Beta a quick glance before taking her place next to Sam, who was sitting hunched over, his hand pressed to his mouth, and the way he crossed his legs and tried to cover himself with his bag, it was clear that he had a problem in his pants that he was trying to hide. And his scent was still full of not only that nasty arousal that made Dean barely resist the urge to wrinkle his nose or even cover his mouth, but also humiliation and a hint of sour fear.
"Hey, buddy, you okay?" He asked, awkwardly placing a hand on Sammy's hunched back. He didn't know what to do.
He knew how to comfort the little Alpha when he had a nightmare or hurt his knee, but what the hell was he supposed to do in this situation? He had to do something. Beneath all the smell of excitement and humiliation, there was still the faint scent of a puppy in distress, and it was driving his Omega crazy. She was spinning in circles and whimpering, trying to think of some way to help her pup, which wasn't helping Dean at all. Damn primitive instincts that had no use in the practical world.
"I didn't mean to scare your puppy, Omega. I'm sorry," Sharon said, sounding quite sincere as she said it.
Gabriel laughed.
"He's not the least bit afraid, beautiful, you can trust me on that. On the contrary. He really enjoys your company!" The eldest Alpha explained amusedly.
"He has good taste," Castiel commented calmly, looking at Sam and Dean over the rim of his champagne glass before taking a sip.
Both damn Knots were acting like the whole thing was a joke, completely oblivious to the smell of humiliation wafting off Sam or the soft whimpering sound of a defenseless puppy coming from his throat, choked by the hand he kept desperately pressing to his mouth.
"I want out, Dee," he whispered in a muffled voice, his words sounding strange, like he was stepping on his tongue, and when he finally looked up at Dean, his irises were red, though he wasn't upset.
"Okay, yeah, let's stop and get some fresh air." It seemed like a good idea. The air in the limo was thick, despite the air conditioning, and filled with an irritating mix of intense Alpha smells. "Tell Golem to stop...please, Alpha," he turned to Castiel, adding a plea at the end of his sentence so it didn't sound like an order. For an Omega to order an Alpha around was unthinkable, of course, it was rude, proper Omegas didn't do that, and while Dean didn't give a shit if he acted like a proper Omega at the moment, he didn't want to start a fight or deserve punishment at the same time.
Castiel tilted his head slightly to the side before he met the gaze of the still huddled Sam, then without protest he raised his hand to the ceiling and said: "Ostanovis' zdes', Golem."
The limo could be felt veering toward the curb as it slowly came to a stop. No sooner had it done so than the little Alpha got up quickly and ran between the seats to the door, his bag strategically placed in front of his body, his hand still over his mouth. Dean didn't wait for anything and ran after him.
Alpha didn't go far. He stopped at a nearby garbage can overflowing with trash and leaned over it. Dean looked around to see that they were in a mostly business district, then quickly followed his brother. Not that he knew what to say when he got there, but he wanted to try something.
"Sammy...Sam," he corrected himself, knowing full well that Sammy didn't like to be called Sammy, and somehow it didn't feel right at the moment. "Dude...it happens to all of us, okay? It's a...um, totally normal body reaction, and believe me, in this case I understand why it happened. Seriously...Wow! Did you see her legs? She's got them to the sky! She's really hot and there's nothing wrong with liking her, okay?" He realized he was sputtering, but hoped it would give Sam some encouragement, only instead of any kind of response, all he got was a sound dangerously similar to gagging.
He quickly walked over to the little Alpha, put his arm around his shoulders, and was half relieved to see that he wasn't vomiting, but spitting up thick ropes of saliva amidst the garbage, from which a fresh waft of foul odor was rising. He wrinkled his nose.
"You okay?"
Sam gave him a weary look, revealing his face with his mouth open. His fangs were all out, and because he didn't growl or appreciate his teeth, they looked unnaturally large in his still somewhat babyish face and against his thin lips. And they glistened with a lot of thick saliva that was making its way down Sammy's chin. This was what a raging Alpha or Alpha in rut looked like; all fangs and dripping saliva. But the little Alpha was far from angry, and he didn't smell of rut either. Maybe the scent of arousal wasn't as soft and friendly as when he talked to Kevin, but more aggressive and intense, but it was far from the scent of rutting. This one would not be so easily washed away by the cold wind and the gentle rain.
"The...fangs...don't...go...back," Sam got out, word for word, short sentences, because as they knew, fully extended fangs made it difficult to speak, and the panic projected in his voice probably didn't help either. And this Dean knew exactly where the panic came from. He had also heard the stories about Alphas who couldn't retract their fangs and starved to death because they couldn't eat with their fangs out. Or those who had to have their fangs pulled out to avoid becoming like the first ones.
He was pretty sure it was bullshit, and he was even more sure that Sam would be the first to explain why it was bullshit, but right here and now... Looking into the terrified face of his brother, who clearly didn't know what to do or what was going on with him (Sammy knew a lot more about these things. He was the expert on Omega biology, not Dean), he lost his confidence a little.
"Okay, never mind. It's nothing, okay?" He took Sam's face in his hands and pulled him close to him, his face against his scent gland like he'd always done. "You just need to calm down and you'll be fine. Okay, buddy?" He patted him on the back and tilted his head to the side, giving the little Alpha good access to his neck. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to help much, judging by the snarling, the rapid, panicked breathing, the fingers digging into his back, and the moisture soaking into his shirt. What the hell was he going to do?
Over Sam's back, he saw the limo door open and Castiel get out. Their eyes met and the Alpha blinked and lifted his head. He was the epitome of a question, which annoyed Dean. He stood there, looking both questioning and completely innocent, as if he had no part in this either. Dean's omega growled softly at his Alpha, too, because he had hurt his pup, and the thing he'd like to do most is go up to Cas and growl in his face. Show him his fangs... oh, wait, he had an idea. Castiel was an Alpha, an adult, and much older than Sam. Maybe he'd know what to do.
"Hey, bro," he pulled back enough to look Sam in the face and see that the situation was still the same. "Cas is here. I'll ask him what to do about it, okay?"
The little Alpha turned his head in Castiel's direction, just briefly and just a little, before turning away again, letting go of Dean and stepping back, head bowed and scent filled with humiliation and disapproval, and nodding. Shallowly, briefly, but still.
He gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and walked back to the limo and the waiting Castiel, who greeted him with a questioning raised eyebrow. He'd like to say something cheery to him, but helping Sam was more important right now.
"We've a bit of a problem, Alpha," he began; the corners of Alpha's mouth twitched in a smile, amusement glittered in his eyes, and his expression was one of contemptuous condescension. Dean frowned. "Not this problem!" He spat sharply, earning a confused look. "It's his fangs. He's got them out and he says they won't retract."
Strangely, all the humor and confusion had vanished from Castiel's face, along with the condescension and ease with which he usually acted, replaced by seriousness.
"Drooling?"
"Like a dog in the summer."
"Does the saliva stink?"
"Terribly," he admitted after a short hesitation. "Smell..." He leaned forward and pulled back his shirt, revealing a damp spot underneath. The Alpha didn't sniff. Apparently, all he had to do was draw in air from a distance and his face instantly stiffened, his upper lip tightening as if to hold back a growl.
"I know what this is about," he said vaguely, leaning against the open door of the limo. He said something in Russian to his brother and reappeared a short time later with several bottles of water in his hand. Without any explanation, he made his way over to Sam. Dean was at his heels, of course, and as Cas approached Sam - they were about as far apart as they needed to be, so they both had to have their hands outstretched if they wanted to pass the bottles - he took a strategic position so that the two Alphas were side by side and equidistant.
"Rinse your mouth," Castiel instructed the little Alpha as he handed him one of the bottles.
Sammy took it, but far from obeying, he just held the bottle and stared at the other Alpha, his mouth half open, saliva running down his chin and dripping onto the floor.
Castiel rolled his eyes, and the sigh he let out was one of frustration and irritation as much as resignation.
"That's mating saliva. You're going to keep drooling like this until you bite someone or it goes away on its own. And that can take hours. It helps to rinse out the mouth."
This explanation was enough for Sam. He took a few sips of water and rinsed his mouth thoroughly. He finished one bottle quickly, so Castiel handed him the other, saying:
"Now put your fingers under your upper lip and massage your gums around your fangs," he advised, indicating with his index fingers in circular motions across his upper lip where his fangs were. "This will relax the dental muscles and the fangs will retract into the gums on their own. Just try not to think about it too much."
This time, the little Alpha didn't even hesitate, just shoved the half-full bottle into his armpit and did as Castiel told him. He stuck his index fingers under his upper lip and began to slowly circle his gums around his fangs. It worked like a magic trick. It took barely half a minute for the fangs to slip back into his gums. Sam's face relaxed into a relieved expression and a hint of sweetness filled the air as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a sigh.
"Thank you... Alpha," Sam thanked, and though he did not stop to look Castiel in the eye, he lowered his head slightly, showing his neck in a show of appreciation and casual submission.
Dean raised an eyebrow in surprise. Honestly, he hadn't expected this. Sammy had always defied Castiel, and except for the first time they met, when he had been forced into submission by circumstances and Castiel's dominance, he had never shown any sign of being willing to acknowledge Case as a superior Alpha.
The older Alpha accepted Sammy's gesture by lifting his chin and puffing out his chest in a pose, but nodded in recognition at the same time. The two Alphas sized each other up for a moment, but oddly enough, without looking or smelling threatening, before Castiel broke eye contact and turned to Dean.
"Let him rinse out his mouth and wash his face some more. Then come back," Castiel said and started to leave.
"Wait," he paused; the Alpha turned to him, tilting his head questioningly. "It would probably be best if you took us home."
"Why?"
Dean frowned. Didn't the Alpha understand that Sam probably wasn't in the mood for ice cream and cake right now? No, judging by Castiel's cutely confused expression, he probably didn't.
"Well, about that..." He nodded his head in his brother's direction.
Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Sam before turning his eyes back to Dean.
"Your brother's fine. There's no reason to change our plans because of him."
"But..."
"These things are part of life as an adult Alpha, and your brother is old enough to learn how to deal with them," Castiel said in a cautious, slightly sharp tone. "What if something like this happens to him at school? At work? At a meeting? Do you think the world will stop spinning or that he'll be able to run home and crawl into his nest like a little puppy?"
"He's right," Sam surprised him with his agreement. "I don't want to go home."
"Fine...okay. Let's get some ice cream."
"Don't stay too long. It's cold," the Alpha commented the obvious before lightly ruffling the hair on Dean's neck and giving him a quick sniff before walking briskly back to the limo.
He gave him a parting glance and as soon as the door closed behind him, he turned to his little brother and met his gaze. He didn't look as scared or smell as bad, but the wind still brought a hint of embarrassment and shame to Dean's nose, though Sam's expression was more determined and a little frowning than uncertain or embarrassed.
"We can still go home alone," he suggested.
"More like we can't," the little Alpha replied, nodding his chin and keeping his eyes on Dean's back.
He glanced over his shoulder and quickly realized that Sam was bumping into the old Toyota parked a few parking spaces away in which Ginger and Mr. Eyebrows sat. Of course, the Alpha's men had been on their tail the whole time, and it was equally certain that if they decided not to get back in the limo now, but to head for, say, the nearest subway stop, they would be caught in no time and forced to turn back. Just walking away was simply not an option, because regardless of how Castiel was acting and whether their relationship was real, there was still an order to things. What Alpha Castiel said was law. What Alpha Castiel wanted he got. And those who defied him were either forced into obedience, brought to their knees, or ended up as fish food. It was foolish of Dean to forget that, even for a moment.
"Look, Sam..." he turned to his brother with a sudden need to apologize. In a way, it was his fault that they were where they were. He wouldn't change. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Just the thought of not being near his Alpha made his insides clench, and his Omega felt very uncomfortable at the mere thought of being far away (damn heat), but at the same time he still felt guilty for dragging his brother into this.
"It's okay, Dena. I get it. There's only one Alpha who has the power, and it's not me," Sam said bitterly, ending his words with a small growl that vanished in a gust of wind. Then he poured the rest of the water from the bottle into himself, walked around Dean, and made his way to the limo.
He caught up to him and opened the door so that he could get in first. As he climbed in after Sam, he saw Castiel hand him a package of those little cookies they used to put on pillows in good hotels. The little Alpha took the cookies in silence, and a moment later he was sitting in his seat, nibbling on pieces of chocolate dough.
Notes:
solntse - sun
konditerskuyu - pastry shop
nadoyedlivoy - annoying
shchedryy khozyain - generous hostNow... I have a big dilemma. I can describe the boys having fun in the pastry shop or I can skip this bit. I swear, then something will finally start happening. Yes, this story has a real plot. :-D There's not much, but it's there. :-D
Chapter 46
Notes:
Not only did I enjoy writing the chapter, but it grew in ways I didn't expect. It was easy to write and I'm leaving it at that. Nothing that happens in this chapter has any effect on the overall plot.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Whatever the pink pills were, they seemed to take effect before they came within sight of the pastry shop. Beta became even more affectionate than before. She literally stomped on Alpha Gabriel like a vine, purring and giggling, and her pupils were like dinner plates. Dean wondered for a moment if she would even be able to get out of the limo, but strangely enough, she did. Not only that, she managed to put on a short black coat and grab a small gold purse that had been hidden somewhere between the seats. And she didn't have much trouble walking in high heels either, although she leaned against the Alphaa Gabriel the whole way to the entrance.
Dean walked at Castiel's side, his arm around his shoulders, turning from time to time to look at Sammy, who walked about a step behind them. Quiet and unassuming, as always, though he kept his head up and his shoulders straight, his chin jutting out with a determination that he showed the rest of the limo ride. And he managed to keep his pride and composure even when Gabriel laughingly asked him if he'd gotten 'it' going, and Dean was proud of him for that, even though he'd rather the oldest of the Alphas had kept his mouth shut.
Their entire procession was rounded out by a trio of men walking at a discreet distance behind them. Two of them were Castiel's Betas, but he didn't recognize the third. He was height of his Alpha, with short brown hair, a sharp chin, and a typically impassive expression. Dean couldn't see any tattoos, but they could easily have been hidden by the gray hoodie he still wore over his leather jacket. But he was definitely a member of the Bratva, probably one of Gabriel's men, because he walked in the company of Ginger and Mr. Eyebrows as if he automatically belonged to them.
Alpha Gabriel opened the door and held it open for Sharon. As Beta walked through, he handed the door to Castiel, who held it for Dean, which was stupid, and then to Sam, who was the last to enter. He tried to keep his brother at least in the corner of his eye all the time, so when Cas threw his arm around his shoulders again in a possessive gesture and led him to the service counter with a light nudge, the eldest Alpha was already at the ice cream counter, picking out what to have.
Walking behind them, Dean glanced around, taking in the mix of sweet smells of freshly baked dough and creams and the slightly less distinct smells of ice cream and, of course, the usual human scent. Mostly Betas, one or two Omegas and at least one Alpha he recognized not only by smell but also by sight. He was sitting at a table for four on a long upholstered bench that ran along the back wall, and he had two puppies under the age of ten with him.
The Alpha gave them a wary look, and he wasn't the only one looking up from phone or laptop or food. Dean wasn't even surprised. It was three in the afternoon, there were a number of small children with their parents, and they all seemed like normal, decent people, while they... well, it was not easy to miss Alpha Castiel. He exuded an aura of dominance with a hint of danger, and he did it with complete ease, without having to try. He just walked in as if he owned everything around him. And his older brother, despite his size, gave the same impression, and he was loud, and he brought Beta with him, who was so beautiful she could have been photographed on the spot for a fashion magazine. The fact that a couple of Alpha's men came into the pastry shop with them, while Gabriel's stayed behind the glass window just inside the door, didn't help their inconspicuousness.
"... My favourite is biscuit, but I'm also in the mood for pistachio. And look... " Sharon pressed a long nail with a perfect manicure and a thin gold stripe against the glass of the ice cream counter, "They have vanilla and pepper," excitement permeated her deep, melodious voice and even reflected in her scent, which surprisingly found its way under the alpha scent of Gabriel, who had his arms around her hips from behind, pressing against her ass as she leaned so close to the ice cream counter that her face was almost pressed against the glass. "Shall we try it, Gabe?" She asked, straightening up so she was right in his arms. Alpha Gabriel immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and growled, his nose buried in the hair at the back of her neck. He was so small compared to her that he even had to stand on his toes a little. Beta chuckled, letting her chin drop to her breasts under his touch and tilting her head to offer him her neck.
"Why limit yourself to one or two or three flavors?" Alpha Gabriel asked as he ran one hand through the hair at the nape of her neck and reached into his pants with the other to pull out his wallet. "Take the biggest bowl you have and give a serving of each flavor from it."
"If you want to try more of our flavors, we have a special discount menu. Ten scoops, one serving for half price," Beta said to the woman behind the counter.
"I don't want a discount, I want a huge pile of ice cream."
"Sure, Alpha," she agreed, stepping aside to look at the racks of toppings and decorations. "Would you like any decorations or toppings? We have all the basics, like chocolate, strawberry, and caramel, as well as tropical fruit or mint puree. That's my favorite. It adds flavor, especially to the ice creams that have chocolate in them."
"Hmm, I think we'll stick with the classics; chocolate and caramel. What do you think, Solntse?" He asked; Beta just grunted in agreement. " Yeah, so chocolate and caramel and especially a lot of whipped cream. And oh yes, put a little of each decoration in there, make it bright and colorful," he ordered, his gaze slipping briefly to the cupcake counter. "And one of each cupcake."
"To go?" The attendant asked.
"Maybe later. Now bring it to our table."
Dean raised his eyebrows a bit. Was this supposed to be food for everyone or what? No, it didn't seem like it, because his Alpha let him go and went over to the cupcake counter and started to make his selection. Of course, it wasn't for everyone. Alphas didn't like to share their things, starting with food, and apparently just because Alpha Gabriel decided to share with Sharon didn't mean he was going to share with everyone.
The waitress rang up a large order, plus two chocolate milks, and Alpha Gabriel paid with his card, but at the same time he pulled a bill out of his wallet and stuffed it into a large jar, mostly filled with coins, with stickers of ice cream and cupcakes on it, and a lid shaped like the top of a cone with scoops of ice cream.
Now it was their turn.
Dean concentrated on the ice cream counter. Forty flavors was a damn good selection, maybe too good, especially when there were flavors like mayo, vanilla and pepper, or something called golf turf that supposedly contained basil. But hey, they had peanut butter and jelly, apple pie and cherry.
"You have your pick?" Castiel asked, stepping back to his side and placing a hand low on his back.
"Yeah, I think so," he nodded and quickly walked over to the cupcake counter; they had them in different flavors, with different creams, and decorated in many different ways. "I'll have the red velvet one that looks like watermelon," he turned to the attendant, "the lemon one with lime cream and... hmmm... the pecan one. Two of everything. And the ice cream... cherry, apple pie, and peanut butter and jelly... what'll you have, Sam?"
Little Alpha looked at all the cupcakes and ice cream.
"Four of those chocolate cupcakes decorated with fruit and four scoops of blueberry ice cream," Sammy ordered unnecessarily soberly, because no matter how big the selection, his little brother always chose what looked remotely healthy. Not that the few raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, and blueberries on top of vanilla cream were particularly healthy.
Castiel's order was just a single orange cupcake, decorated with orange and chocolate buttercream, with a small bee and a piece of honeycomb on top. It looked a bit like a beehive, and for some reason, Dean thought of Blue Sky when he saw the cupcake. Then his Alpha paid the same as Gabriel, including putting a paper tip in the jar instead of the percentage of the offered price. If he had seen correctly, and if Castiel's brother had been equally generous, the server might not have been disappointed.
Castiel placed a hand on the back of his head, running his thumb lightly over the sensitive spot. The soft touch sent a shiver down his spine, almost causing a purr to rise from his throat. He swallowed. Damned heat. He couldn't purr like a stupid cat here. He was in the middle of a pastry shop, and they were just coming up to the table that Alpha Gabriel had taken for them.
It was against the back wall, of course, just across the table from the watchful Alpha with the puppies, and in the corner. It was surprising at first that Gabriel had chosen a spot on the shorter side of the table, with the kitchen at his back, but then it dawned on him. The older Alpha had given Castiel a privileged spot overlooking the entire pastry shop, for Castiel was the master of the New York territory, while Alpha Gabriel was a guest here, and he fully respected his status as a guest, and by extension, Castiel's status. That realization curled the corners of Dean's mouth into a proud smile with a hint of contempt, and he didn't forget to give Gabriel a glance as he sat down next to his Alpha. Oh yes, he wanted the older Alpha to know that he was well aware of who was in charge and that it was Dean who was the Alpha Mate who owned New York.
Gabriel returned the look. They met each other's eyes, and though he felt the urge to lower his gaze and submit, he didn't. Instead, he raised his head in challenge. It probably wasn't wise to strike that pose for Castiel's brother, not only because of who he was, but he felt strong and confident at the moment.
The creak of a chair being overturned interrupted the moment. He turned his head sharply to see that Sammy had moved his chair to the short side of the table, because of course there was only room for him with his back to the room. It wasn't the first time he'd chosen a seat like a real Alpha.
"Do you want to switch places?" Sam asked half-loudly, taking a quick look behind his back. The little Alpha had to choose between having his back to the room or his back to the other Alpha, and that had to be a tough choice.
"No. It's okay," Sam replied, but he wasn't looking at him, he was looking at Castiel.
Dean turned his head to his Alpha. Castiel was looking down at the little Alpha from his full height, back straight, and even though his scent hadn't changed much, his pose was a clear rejection. Okay, Dean had to admit that asking Sam to sit next to Castiel was a stupid idea.
Though Sammy looked Cas in the eye for a moment, as defiant as ever, after a moment he let his shoulders slump and bowed his head slightly in a touch of polite submission that immediately calmed the older Alpha. He relaxed, a wave of honeyed sweetness running through his scent, and turned to Dean, eyes narrowed.
"How was your math?"
He blinked in confusion.
"What?"
"Your math test today. How did it go?" Alpha patiently clarified.
The question caught Dean a little off guard. So much had happened in the last few weeks, and he and his Alpha had been dealing with so much important shit, plus Cas hadn't had much time, that he had almost forgotten about their simple and sometimes silly conversations. The closest they'd come was the other day, after meeting Alastair, when they watched Game of Thrones together, but that wasn't much of a conversation. Dean talked and Castiel listened in silence until it got dark outside and the Alpha had to take him home.
"I missed the start of class, and the teacher won't let latecomers in," he replied with a disinterested shrug.
"My men would have made sure you got to school on time. All you had to do was tell them you were in a hurry."
"Look, it doesn't matter, okay?" She smiled crookedly, "I wasn't going to crash on a frantic drive through a congested city just for a math test. I would have gotten a D at best anyway."
"You never get a D," Sammy chided. "The worst grade Dean ever got was a C. And he's the best at math, he gets a B, sometimes an A."
He grinned at a really good memory of a punishment he got when he got a good grade.
"Right. A. That's always nice. Especially when it makes me sit in front of a blackboard for an hour, writing on my own knee and being the laughing stock of everyone."
"I have no illusions about the quality of American education, but the fact that they already punish good grades here..." Gabriel interjected.
"It wasn't for a grade. The teacher was convinced I'd cheated and said I'd sit through every one of her classes until I confessed. So I confessed." He shrugged slightly; he didn't even know why he was telling Alpha this. "She praised me for my honesty and had me retake the test, independently and under strict supervision. I wanted her to leave me alone, so I wrote it on a C. She was satisfied."
"Did you cheat?" asked Cas.
"Why would I do that?" Cas asked back with a question and a small grin. "The only people who cheat on tests are those who care about passing, and I don't care what grade I get."
The Alpha tilted his head to the side in a bit of confusion, his eyes narrowing.
"She had no proof that you cheated because you didn't, but she humiliated you anyway and made you retake the test with a lower grade?"
"Hmmm... kind of," he nodded, not understanding why Cas was bringing it up at all. Wasn't it somehow beneath him to care about someone else's grades in school? Surely he had bigger and more important things to worry about. Yeah, okay, it was his Omega Mate's grades, but he didn't really care about that either. Unless he wanted to show off his diploma in addition to a nice interior. That thought made Dean a little uncomfortable. One could squeeze into the various humanities colleges with a worse average, but it would still mean that he'd have to start studying and doing something. And then he would have to go through several more years of boredom in the classroom to get a piece of paper that he didn't want and that would never be of any use to him in his life.
There was a sharpness in the blue eyes, a few tendrils of almond bitterness seeping into the cherry scent, and a furrow formed between Castiel's brows while the lines around his eyes thinned as a slight tension permeated his expression.
"They treat you like this often?"
"I'm not very..." he paused, wanting to say that he wasn't very smart, and that was too close to calling himself stupid, and the Alpha had forbidden him to say that, "um... studious type, I don't like rules, I don't respect anything or anyone, I don't care about anything, I can't behave, and I'm an Omega, so yeah... that's how teachers usually act," he summed up without interest, shrugging a little. He really didn't know what Cas was getting at.
"Is that how they treat you at the school you go to now?"
The school he went to here in New York was much bigger than the schools in small towns, and except for the first week, the teachers paid little attention to him. And since he hadn't yet managed to get into a fight, break into someone's locker, set something on fire, or try to sneak a forbidden item into school, the professors had no problem with him.
"I guess it's better than other places."
"Better, but not good," Castiel concluded. "I'm not saying education is the most important thing. You can get by without it, especially in our world, but you're not going to go to a school where you're treated with disrespect just because they can't see your abilities and potential."
His point was that he couldn't change schools. Sammy had already made friends and going to this school didn't bother Dean. Not to mention that he didn't know where else to go and that it would be useless anyway. What potential and ability? The ability to break into a car without setting the alarm, disconnect the GPS and start it without the keys? Knowledge of tracking, setting traps, and cooking raccoon stew? The potential to shoot a target from a moving car? These weren't skills he could list on a college application.
Unfortunately, he didn't get a chance to say anything because the attendant appeared with their order. Three Betas had to take it. One of them actually had their small order. Another carried a large bowl filled with scoops of ice cream, topped with lots of vanilla and chocolate whipped cream, and covered with a mixture of sugar pearls, flowers, stars and hearts of all colors, glitter, edible paper confetti, and who knows what else. The third had a tray full of cupcakes. It barely fit on the table. There was a whole temptingly scented, colorful pile of them that made his saliva pool. No wonder the puppies at the next table rolled their eyes. One thing was a little ridiculous and made him bared his fangs in a gleeful grin: Castiel's bee cupcake in a paper cup with a print of bees holding a heart, sitting alone on a tiny plate. It was almost cute, especially in contrast to Castiel towering over it. It was like putting a pink bow on a Doberman's head.
Castiel made a questioning sound and raised an eyebrow.
Dean bit his lip to stifle the laugh that was working its way to his mouth. He dipped a finger into the orange cream, scooped out an appropriate portion, and with a sultry purr, his gaze locked on Castiel's eyes, popped it into his mouth and sucked hard. He felt his cheeks sink in and then pulled his finger out. He made a loud chewing sound.
"Hmm... you have some really sweet cream, Alpha," he said, arching his eyebrows coquettishly.
Alpha's pupils dilated with interest, and he flashed his golden fangs and made a deep, rumbling, though quiet, sound that visibly vibrated his throat.
"Stop teasing my brother and don't stick your fingers in food until I take a picture," Gabriel admonished him, annoyed.
Reluctantly, Dean looked away from his Alpha, and indeed, Alpha Gabriel was leaning back in his seat, cranking his phone in a desperate attempt to capture the entire table, but not the people sitting at it. A few clicks and the eldest Alpha settled into a comfortable position with a satisfied grunt, but one that kept the lens pointed at Sharon.
"Show me something nice, Solnts. Give me something to remember."
Beta laughed and did as he asked. She scooped some of the whipped cream onto her long, slender finger with the manicured nail, tilted her head to show off her beautiful neck, and licked a dollop of the whitish whipped cream with the tip of her tongue in a way that made it impossible to do anything but stare. It was so damned seductive and elegant at the same time. His attempt to seduce Case was awkward, clumsy and childish.
"That's just it, beautiful," Gabriel complimented her.
It was the sense of his own awkwardness that made him pop a hefty portion of cherry ice cream into his mouth and shift his gaze to Sam, who was hunched over his bowl, obviously trying not to watch Sharon too closely.
"This isn't what I expected," the little Alpha remarked, looking up through the veil of hair that almost fell on the ice cream. "When I imagined people like you," he turned to Castiel, who gave him a look, "I thought they'd be more... well, more like you and not..." he didn't finish, just looking at Alpha Gabriel, who was taking a close-up of Sharon's pouty lips with a cherry on them.
"Don't let Gabriel's looks and demeanor fool you, puppy," Cas replied as he removed the paper from his cupcake. "Dangerous things can easily look harmless," he said matter-of-factly, taking the chocolate bee out of its cream cap and popping it into his mouth. It looked harmless, too, if Dean didn't know that he could beat a man to death with the same hands. Sammy didn't know that, of course, and Dean didn't think it would be a good idea to give him a chance to think about it or ask questions.
"Hey... Let's take a selfie," he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone to distract Sammy.
"Together?" Sammy frowned, the spoon with a scoop of ice cream a little away from his mouth. "Never."
"Shut up, bitch, and come take a picture." He grabbed Little Alpha by the shoulders and pulled him close, leaning over the corner himself. "I don't have a single picture of you."
"Fine, jerk." Sam bared his teeth in a grin. "I just don't understand why I have to be in the same picture with your ugly face," he growled in apparent displeasure, but his scent was sweet, and when Dean held up his phone to take a picture of not only the two of them, but the ice cream and cupcakes as well, he held up two fingers in a sign of victory.
He pressed his cheek against his grumpy puppy and snapped a few pictures. Sammy made sure to make each photo more obnoxious than the last, while Dean smiled more in each one. He was damn glad the little Alpha was in a good mood again... or as good as he had been in the last few weeks, so all those sour faces and annoyed looks, but his scent was pretty good. Mostly sweet, woody, with just a hint of tainted oil and an undertone of steaming saliva from a previous accident. And when he drew back and elbowed him preemptively, Sam's response was a playful snarl and a flash of fangs.
With a gleeful grin, he fell back onto the padded bench and leaned his hip against Castiel. He barely noticed that the Alpha had an arm around his shoulders, and only half realized that he had missed a short, low purr. He was concentrating on going through the pictures they had taken and considering sharing one or two. Dad was against sharing anything, and against any kind of social media or technology in general, and in a way, he had good reason. The fewer digital traces a person leaves behind, the better. Then no one could find you, and it was easier to disappear when needed. But Dad wasn't around, and a photo or two couldn't hurt, right? He chose one of the photos and posted it on Facebook. And while he was at it, he started scrolling through the news and blindly reached over to the bowl to scoop a large portion onto a spoon and put it in his mouth.
He felt the familiar pressure of Cas's chin on the top of his head as Alpha rested it against him. Without thinking, he moved his head. A whiff of baked cherries with a hint of the typical undertone of branding pleasantly tickled his nose and his inner Omega growled.
He looked up at Alpha. His features were relaxed, his wrinkles deep and his lips actually parted slightly as he narrowed his eyes, slightly intrigued by the screen of Dean's phone. He looked handsome. Satisfied. And Dean thought it would be nice to preserve the moment, except...
"Too bad we can't take a picture."
The Alpha looked at him with a dose of confusion.
"We can't?"
"Can we?" He asked, as confused as Cas looked, and even more surprised. "You'd let us take a picture? I mean... I thought... you know, your job and... me," he tried to explain that he hadn't expected someone like Castiel to take pictures too often, and especially not to want to take pictures with him, because after all, he was only sixteen, and that was a problem, right?
"We can, but you can't share it or show it to anyone."
That made sense. He switched to the camera, held his phone up in front of them, and after a moment's hesitation, stood up and held out his hand to take them both. He thought for a moment that he could lean closer to Cas, but quickly dismissed it. He felt a little silly for taking a picture like that, and it also occurred to him that if someone found this picture on his phone, maybe the police or whoever, it would get the Alpha in more trouble if they looked... well, like a couple or anything closer than friends. Castiel must have had the same thought, because he moved his hand from Dean's shoulders to his back, where it wasn't visible in the photo, and moved away a little, making them look more like acquaintances than anything else. It wasn't great, but it was more than Dean had hoped for, and Alpha's face remained as relaxed and beautiful as before, and that counted.
He took the picture, developed it in the gallery and looked at it.
He had a picture of his Alpha. He could look at it whenever he wanted and it was so fucking great. His Omega purred enthusiastically and a feeling of intense heat spread through his chest, building up at the edges into that unpleasantly familiar buzzing under his skin that he knew from his humping. Damn it! It was so stupid to feel this way for a photo. Stop acting like a needy Omega, Winchester, he mentally admonished himself, quickly dropping the gallery and shoving his phone into his pocket. And moved away from Case towards the table, half out of a need to get away from him and get rid of that itchy feeling, and also because he wasn't sure if his scent reflected any of his feelings.
"Everything okay, Din?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah, sure. Thanks for the picture." He gave Alpha a relaxed smile. "I'm going to get some ice cream before it melts," he added, digging his spoon into the pink ice cream.
°°0°°
He licked the last of the lime cream from his lips and sighed contentedly. For now, his belly was pleasantly full, though his eyes still wandered enviously to the still-full tray of cupcake, so temptingly within reach. If only he could have just one. Yeah, if they belonged to his Alpha, that would have been possible, but he wasn't stupid enough to touch Alpha Gabriel's property, no matter what kind of asshole the Alpha was.
He felt a big, warm hand high on his thigh, and Cas leaned in to whisper in his ear, lips pressed almost to the latch:
"Cigarette. Come with me."
He shuffled up the seat so Castiel could climb out from behind the table, then leaned over to Sammy, never taking his eyes off his Alpha, who was already slowly making his way to the door.
"We're going out for a smoke. Can you make it alone?" He asked, nodding his head to the other Alpha and Beta, who were sitting across from Sam, only paying attention to each other. They fed each other melting ice cream to Sharon's loud laughter and Gabriel's contented purr.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
He measured the little Alpha with an appraising look and tasted the air, which, strangely enough, smelled almost not of spoiled oil at all, but of sandalwood and fresh olives. Well, he was remarkably cool, so he was much less worried about leaving him alone in the older Alpha's company. After all, they were in public. Hopefully neither of them would do anything stupid... although Alphas could be idiots.
He felt eyes on himself. He didn't even have to wonder who was looking at him, because only one person had such an intense look.
"Fine. I have to go," he stood up and leaned into Sam's ear one last time. "And don't steal cupcakes."
"I'm not you," Sam growled into his back.
Dean ran quickly to the door Cas was holding open and slipped under his arm into the cold, damp air. A quick glance at the sky showed that it was all grey without a single ray of sunlight, but at least the steady rain that had been falling almost continuously all day had stopped.
"Let's go get warm," the Alpha said as he gave the back of his neck a quick squeeze. Then his hand ran through Dean's hair, sliding down his throat and settling where his neck met his shoulder, very close to the mark Castiel had left there.
He slipped his hand under Alpha's jacket and wrapped his arm around his waist, pressing his side against him so that in mutual embrace they rounded the corner where the limo was still.
When they were almost at the limo, the Golem emerged from the driver's seat like a giant from the tiny cave entrance, and before they could reach the door handle, he opened it himself. The Alpha let Dean get in first and slid in after him, and as soon as the door closed, he dropped into the seat with a sigh, swung his legs over, twisted his head over the back of the seat, and rubbed his face with both hands.
The cold air of the limousine, from which the air conditioning had managed to filter out the most intense smells, was filled with the scent of roasted cherries with an intense undertone of bitter almonds.
"Oh..." Cas sighed again, dropping his head to one side and looking up at Dean, who had temporarily settled into the opposite seat, his eyelids drooping lazily. "I needed a break for a while. Vidit Bog, I love my brother, but he can be so... annoying."
"Yeah... he's kind of an asshole... no offense, Cas!" He held his hands up in a mock apology. He knew he could afford it. The Alpha radiated calm and contentment, and it wasn't the first time he had complained about Alpha Gabrielle.
A short bark that was a laugh escaped Cas's throat and the air was filled with a teasingly sweet amusement, whereupon he held out his hand.
"Come to me."
He didn't hesitate. He crossed the small distance that separated them, settled into Castiel's lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and buried his nose in his throat. Into the fucking perfect smell of roasted cherries and almond crumble with honey and cigarettes and weed. He inhaled deeply until his head spun and he felt every muscle in his body relax and his mind swim in a haze. He hadn't felt this intense in a long time. He'd gotten used to the smell of his Alpha, so it had less of an effect on him, but at this moment... probably because of how close it was to his heat... it was back to how it was when they first met, and maybe even stronger. Or rather, different. As he breathed in Cas's scent, which had begun to fill with musky aroma, he felt that telltale warmth permeate his body again, and the itch under his skin, as if his own body was small. And his Omega was almost high, and all she wanted to do was rub against Alpha, cover herself with his scent, turn onto her back and show her vulnerable belly or present herself to him. To bend Dean's back and make him adjust his ass, and yeah, he was damn well aware of how stupidly necessary that was and he certainly had no intention of doing it. But he couldn't resist the urge to at least rub against Castiel's neck and get his scent on himself.
Castiel wrapped one arm low around his back and buried the other in the hair at the nape of his neck, but didn't start stroking his hair as Dean would have liked and expected. No, instead he made him lift his head from the nape of his neck with a light tug.
Deep blue eyes searched Dean's face.
" Is everything all right?" Alpha asked, his voice suddenly serious. Dean shuddered stupidly and his first thought was that he had done something and Alpha was angry. Which was bullshit, he wasn't angry or anything. He still smelled relaxed, but his expression, the way his eyes narrowed and his lips tightened, exuded a certain cautious wariness, and there was that deep interest in the blue lagoons of his eyes that made Dean feel like he was the center of Alpha's world.
"Yeah... yeah, right. Everything's fine," he replied quickly, conjuring up a reassuring smile. "Except your brother's a jerk and I didn't like what he did to Sammy."
"Yeah, that..." He turned contemptuous. "Whatever Gabriel said or did, he didn't mean it badly. It was just kind of... teasing. That's all it was. But that's not why I'm asking if you're okay." He took Dean's chin in his hand and ran his thumb over his lower lip, a thoughtful expression with which he continued to study his face. "You're acting different today. This morning you were purring, and you're unusually... cuddly," he chose a word Dean didn't particularly like. He was no cuddly Omega. This was ridiculous. He frowned and tried to slide off Castiel's lap, but the Alpha stopped him. "That wasn't a complaint. I'm just surprised."
Yeah, he was acting different because this stupid behavior was the result of the damn hormones coursing through his veins by the gallon and wreaking havoc on his body. And it was going to get worse. It would mess with his head, make him feel empty, and at least in the corner of his mind - maybe not just in the corner because of Castiel - he would crave fulfillment and the knot, no matter how much he suppressed those thoughts. And his uterus would puff up like a rugby ball... no, seriously, that was almost the worst part of the whole heat, that his belly would really get round, like he had a puppy in there a long time ago. And when it's finally over after four days, there's the even less popular part of this stupid biology thing.
He didn't want to tell Castiel about any of this, though.
"How do you know I'm acting different? You've only known me a few weeks. Maybe I act this way when I like someone. That's what you wanted, right?" He asked defensively. "Everything you do... everything you do for me and Sam... you wanted me to believe it was real between us and to start liking you, didn't you? Well, you see. It worked." He shrugged casually.
If he was trying to calm Castiel down, he probably should have said it more nicely, because everything he said had the opposite effect. Alha's scent hadn't turned bitter, but the sweetness and the hint of excitement had faded, and the way he continued to study Dean's face was even more intense than before, and there was a hint of suspicion.
It took several long breaths, feeling more and more uncomfortable with each passing second, before Castiel suddenly turned his head to the side and buried his nose in the steaming gland. He immediately tried to pull away, but a warning growl froze him in mid-movement.
He felt wet, hot breath on the skin of his exposed neck and heard a loud sniff. The feeling and the sound instinctively made him stay perfectly still, but his thoughts raced through his head at high speed. Could the Alpha feel his approaching heat? They were in bed together, and he could feel Dean without the blockers, and he sensed nothing. He was wearing the blockers now, but they had been used in the morning. Maybe they didn't work as well anymore. No, they definitely didn't work as well because Alpha had commented on how good they smelled earlier. When he finds out, what will he say? What would he do? Would he have to admit that he knew and hesitate to tell him at all? He wouldn't have to. He could pretend he didn't know.
He heard a growl.
"It's weak, and you smell like your brother, but I can smell it," Cas growled into his throat before pulling away. "Your heat is close."
He looked into Cas's eyes and his heart skipped a beat. The Alpha's pupils were as wide as saucers and what was left of his blue irises quickly turned red. Cracked lips curled into a feral grin, all teeth and fangs and gold, and a gleeful growl ripped from his throat as the hand that had been calmly resting on Dean's back turned into a waist of steel as Cas pulled him closer.
A second ago, everything had been fine, and the hints of heat that had probably been in his scent hadn't affected Castiel, but now that he felt them fully and realized what was going on... The right wires had clicked together in the Alpha's brain, and Dean could hear Castiel's inner Alpha growling at the Omega in heat, owning, fucking, biting. And the Omega that Castiel's Alpha had chosen was even stupid and naive enough to sit on his lap, surrendering to his power.
He had to get out, and he had to get out now, was the only thought that ran through his mind. He had to get out of the car before the smell of its preheating drove Castiel crazy and it ended up like... his Mercedes back then... like back in Maine. He'd seen what the smell of preheat did to an Alpha back then, and it didn't matter that the fucker was in rut. He always got the Knots' attention more than ever in those few days before the heat.
He resisted the urge to escape.
Probably not the best idea. He should have tried to talk his way out of it. Of course, trying to break free triggered the Alpha's instinct to hold onto his prey and not let go, and before Dean could catch his breath, Castiel rolled him underneath and pressed his weight into the leather seat. He waited for nothing and punched him in the nose. He did it with the palm of his hand and not with all his might because he didn't really want to hurt his Alpha and even that made his inner Omega whimper desperately. But hard enough to make the Alpha lose his concentration for a moment and with a grunt of pain he lifted himself from Dean, his hand pressed to his battered nose. He used the moment to shuffle backwards.
The problem was that when Castiel had rolled him onto the seat, he'd put himself between Dean and the escape route, and right now Dean's only option was to back up into the back corner of the seat and press his back against the fridge. And if he wanted to get to the door, he'd have to get past Castiel, except he'd need some kind of weapon... His eyes scanned the area quickly. There were glasses on the bar that could be smashed and the shards used as a knife, and there might be a bottle corkscrew in the bar, but he could really hurt Alpha with that, and he didn't want to.
He kept looking and his eyes fell on a discarded empty champagne bottle. It was too damn heavy. He could have hit Alpha over the head with it.
He grabbed it and pointed it at Alpha, who sniffed one last time through his bruised nose and turned his red eyes on Dean, baring his teeth in an angry snarl. And the air was filled with the bitterness of almonds in a way that almost made Dean sick.
"Don't come any closer! If you come any closer, I'll hit you! Do you understand what I'm saying?! I'm not getting mated in this damn car!"
It seemed as if perhaps his words had penetrated Castiel's Alpha instinct-driven brain, for suddenly he stopped growling, and the red in his eyes began to fade to the dark blue that Dean knew and loved. Then Castiel straightened from the attack position he'd been in, brought his hands palms up, and tilted his head slightly to the side, showing his neck in a gesture of acceptable submission to the Alpha.
"I'm not coming any closer... Omega," Castiel said in a perfectly clear voice with his typical accent and depth, as if he had gargled a fine whiskey, using Dean's secondary gender, which had exactly the effect the Alpha probably intended; it was soothing. It might not have been common in Russia, but it was here, and Dean was used to responding well to the word 'Omega' when he was addressed that way by an Alpha he trusted.
He dropped the bottle a little, measuring Castiel suspiciously.
"Are you...are you calm? He asked cautiously.
"Da...yes, of course I am," Castiel nodded, his hands dropping a little, his expression changing from reassuring to confused, and he wrinkled his nose again before speaking. "You thought if I smelled your preheat and realized what it was, I'd lose control?"
" Yeah, something like that..." he admitted, letting the bottle fall completely onto the leather upholstery of the seat. He suddenly felt confused, but also rather embarrassed, and the fact that Cas's face had frozen into a cold expression didn't help his mood.
"I'm not a primitive uzkolot'a. I thought you knew that."
He didn't know what the Russian word meant, but probably something like knotheads. Was Castiel a knothead? He was, but not in that sense. He didn't lose control. In fact, it was Dean himself who had told him that was why he wasn't afraid of the Alpha doing something to him in a fit of rage, even if he was a murderer. So why the hell was he holding a bottle and acting hysterical? He knew why. It was hard to separate the memory of the Alpha he'd tasered from the memory of his first heat and, more importantly, his first preheat.
"Shit... sorry... I just..." the words slipped out. Shit, he was so embarrassed and the apology sounded pathetic.
Castiel didn't say anything, just pulled away more and sat up straight, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. He held the folded piece of white cloth to his nose, blew a few times, then put it down and looked at it.
Dean flipped the bottle from hand to hand, letting it fall back to the floor, and slowly straightened up, no unnecessary irritating movements that might disturb Alpha, and subtly glanced at the handkerchief as well. Ugh, okay, no blood, just some water, he sighed in relief. At least he didn't break his nose.
" You're my True Mate, Din. The only Omega whose scent I like, and I won't deny that the thought of your heat turned me on more than I expected," the Alpha turned to him seriously and shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket, "but you couldn't possibly think that I'd bite you here and now just because your heat is coming?"
"I didn't think you'd bite me, I mean... I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn't thinking at all. Shit, Cas, I'm sorry, I just..." He couldn't finish why he was so scared, so he just shut up.
Castiel looked at him. His eyes were the color of a blue lagoon on a windless day, and it was impossible to tell what thoughts or emotions were behind them. And you couldn't tell from his calm, almost impassive expression. Dean lowered his head in submission, just as his Omega and his instincts told him to, silently acknowledging that he had just screwed up. He was stupid, and he could only blame it on his upcoming fight and a few bad memories that haunted him like ghosts hiding under the bed.
The silence was long, uncomfortable, broken only by the distant hum of traffic before Castiel suddenly broke it with a long sigh and a muttered Russian word:
"Ty moye proklyatiye. Lyubimyy proklinat', no proklinat'. Come here..." He raked his large, warm hand through Dean's hair, grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close, wrapping his other arm around Dean's back and planting a hard kiss in his hair. Dean relaxed under his touch and sighed. His Alpha wasn't angry, and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered right now.
The Alpha let his hand drop from his back and moved the other, still in Dean's hair, so that it was around his shoulders. It was then that Dean looked up at him.
"I'm sorry I pulled that bottle on you.The thing is..." he hesitated; he didn't want to give a specific reason, but he could speak in generalities. "When you live the life we do... always on the road and in cheap motels... and you're an Omega, you learn to defend yourself first and ask questions later. For a moment there, I thought you were... you know... a little crazy. When I see an Alpha who's out, I just grab the first weapon I can and start defending myself. You know?"
"I get it, Dean, and look, I'm not mad. In fact, I'm glad you're like that because it means you can take care of yourself and you'll be able to take care of our puppies. Protect them. But... try using words first next time, okay?" Castiel said softly but firmly. "You could have broken my nose. My men wouldn't have missed it. I'd have to explain it somehow, and I could hardly tell them I slipped in the shower. And do you know what it would mean if someone found out that you hit me?"
He wasn't thinking about that right at that moment. He really thought Castiel had turned into a full Alpha going after his coveted Omega, and just wanted to stop him before he fucked and bit him. He hadn't thought about the consequences if someone found out that he had beaten the boss of the Russian Mafia and it was only now that it started to sink in. Tres would probably not be just a slap in the face, but something much worse. Could Castiel even let him live?
"Shit! I really didn't mean to..." he began with a hint of alarm.
"Calm down. No one knows, and no one will ever know. What happens in private will stay between us," he interrupted firmly, his words sounding more like an order than an assurance, but then his tone changed again. "Don't worry about it anymore, okay? I suppose the most important thing right now is to discuss what we're going to do when your heat comes..." he added, frowning slightly and looking a little uncertain, his gaze distractedly fixed on the back window of the limo. "When's your date?" He turned to Dean.
The question didn't really confuse him, maybe it caught him off guard with its bluntness, but the main thing was that he didn't know how to answer it. He had more or less calculated that his cycles lasted something between ninety and a hundred days, but since he had never kept track of it, and since all days seemed the same when traveling by car and one easily lost track of time, he didn't really know when his next heat was.
"Um... I noticed the first signs today, so... I don't know... five days, a week...?" He phrased it half as a question.
This time, when Castiel blinked, there was a certain dissatisfaction in his scent.
"Do you know when your next heat is?"
He shrugged with a feeling of all-encompassing embarrassment. He didn't really want to talk about it, but he guessed he couldn't avoid it. Not only because once the Alpha was focused on something, he was like a hound, but also because it was probably part of a couple's life, wasn't it?
"The last time was sometime this summer when we were in Nevada.It'll be about three months, give or take a few days, so anytime now... well... anytime now would probably work for my next bong bong."
"Bonga, bonga...?" He repeated flatly, whereupon he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh and closed his eyes. "Are you telling me you don't watch your cycles?"
Alpha's tone wasn't one he liked, it was reproachful and sounded like he was talking to a child. It wasn't Dean's fault that his stupid hormones and crazy ovaries were about as reliable as Roxeli from Wisch.
"It's not like I have them on a regular. I'm not a timetable."
"All the more reason to keep an eye on your cycles," the Alpha admonished, much to his displeasure. "I suppose you're not regular because you're young, but... Dean... Cycles are supposed to be regular, if they're not, or you miss a heat, it could mean a serious health problem, got it? I want you to keep a close eye on your heat from now on. Do you understand?"
It wasn't a request, it was an order that affected Dean's Omega as well as him, and even though he didn't like the tone Castiel used, he simply bowed his head under the command and acknowledged the Alpha's dominance.
"Yeah, well... I'll keep an eye on it. Okay, Alpha?" He replied meekly enough, and he meant it, from now on he would keep track of his cycles. He'll write them down somewhere or something. But at the same time he couldn't suppress the urge to resist even a little, so he added: "But anyway... who's really watching? Do you know when you have your other... er... days? And how long is your cycle?" He asked defensively, and he could bet that Cas wouldn't give him the right answer.
The Alpha gave him a cold look.
"My cycles last one hundred and twenty-eight days, including the rut itself. And my next rut begins on the twelfth of January."
Oh, well, he was taken aback not only by the precision and certainty of the answer, but by the date itself. It was two months away, but even that seemed incredibly soon. He didn't think he was ready to spend his rut with Cas. Hell, he wasn't ready to spend his own heat with him.
"It's coming soon," was all that came out of him.
"It's in two months, so my rut isn't important right now. It's about your heat.
Five days to a week... that's not much time. I'd rather have known sooner, but it's possible." He frowned thoughtfully, his gaze a little unfocused behind Dean as his thumb stroked his shoulder absently. "I was going to make you a nesting bed in my lair anyway. I'll just do it sooner than I planned," he began to wonder aloud. "It's Thursday... I can have the new bed home today, but I assume you won't want to leave your brother alone for too long. That means it's best if you move in with me on Monday. That should give you enough time to get used to it and build a comfortable nest," he planned with absolute certainty, as if he was sure they would spend Dean's heat together, and with every word he spoke, a lump of worry rose in Dean's throat and the grip of a cold hand tightened around his stomach. Sure, he'd thought about spending his heat with Cas, and in a way he wanted to, his Omega definitely liked the idea, but now that he'd heard the clear plans, he suddenly wasn't sure he really wanted to.
"Maybe I should just... well... spend my days at home like I always do," he suggested.
"Don't you want to be with me?" Cas frowned in confusion, a bit of bitterness and disappointment and maybe hurt and the smell of rejection seeping into his scent.
"No. I mean, yes..." he quickly corrected himself, catching the shadow running across the Alpha's eyes. "It's just awfully fast, and we haven't gotten to home plate yet."
"I'm your Mate. It's my duty to take care of you during your heat," Castiel said firmly, and his expression softened, the warmth Dean loved to see in those narrowed eyes pouring into them. Then the Alpha took his chin, raised his cheek, and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I know you wanted to wait, moy sladkiy Omega, but this is for the best," he kissed him again, this time on the corner of his lips. "I'll be gentle, da?" He promised with another kiss, this time on his jaw; Dean shivered, closing his eyes and automatically tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. "Or rough and passionate if you want," he continued, pressing his lips to Dean's neck in a hungry kiss. "I'll make it perfect for you. You'll love it... right? You want it, lyubov' moy?"
It was so hard to keep his thoughts coherent when the Alpha spoke in that tone, making unspoken promises of amazing things Dean could only imagine. And it was even harder to disagree with those fantasies when the heat rose through his entire body and he felt the urgent need to jump out of his clothes and press his naked skin against Castiel's equally naked body. That he desperately needed the Alpha to fill the empty space deep in his gut that was just tightening with need as his cock began to twitch in the first rush of arousal. Maybe spending the heat with Cas wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would even be great.
"Yeah... okay, I want that..." he agreed shakily, earning a pleased grunt that made the skin on his neck vibrate. He responded with a growl of his own, which turned into a distinct snarl, and turned his head toward Castiel's face.
Their jaws brushed together as the Alpha came to meet him, and then their lips met in a kiss. Passionate, deep, all tongues, and Castiel's golden fangs caught on his lower lip. It hurt, and he could taste the iron taste of blood in his mouth, along with the oranges and the faded taste of cigarettes. Castiel didn't seem to be deterred at all, digging his hands into his hair and leaning in closer, forcing Dean to lean back with the weight of his body. It woke Dean up a bit, though.
Both the pain and the taste of blood, and so he broke the kiss.
He pulled away to Castiel's disgruntled murmur and looked up, breathless, into his eager face and glowing blue eyes. He breathed quickly, catching the thoughts that swirled through his head as he held Alpha's face in his hands, not letting him get close again.
His first thought was that they couldn't continue here and now. Not only had they been gone too long, but the smell of sex would still be there and he'd rather go to hell for thirty years than give Alpha Gabriel that kind of ammunition for insults, regardless of the fact that Sammy didn't need to feel that he and Cas had fucked here either. And the second idea was more... well, it was even more mature.
"I don't want a puppy," seemed to be a somewhat incoherent remark, but at least it stopped Case from trying to kiss him again and made him tilt his head a little. "If we're going to spend my time together, we need to, you know... protect. Use condoms and stuff. And then there's the problem with your rut. Rumor has it that Omega's heat can trigger an Alpha's rut, so... I guess we have to keep that in mind as well."
Just talking about it made him uncomfortable, and he didn't even mention that the last time he'd asked him to use a condom, it hadn't gone well. In the end, Alpha had agreed, but rather reluctantly. Maybe he didn't have to be so stubborn this time. After all, he had said that he wanted to have puppies with Dean, but every time he mentioned it, he spoke in very general terms, using words like 'sometime in the future' and 'later'. And Cas wasn't stupid, and having a baby with a sixteen-year-old sounded like a stupid idea even to Dean.
"I'm not taking any suppressants, not even emergency ones," the Alpha said firmly, which didn't sound very encouraging. "But you're right, we have to be careful. I'll get you birth control and we'll use condoms."
It sounded like a plan. A real, thought-out plan that made everything very real. It made Dean wonder again if this was a good idea.
Russian music broke the silence between them.
"Sorry," Cas apologized, letting go and pulling away so he could get his phone out of his pocket in peace. Looking at the screen, he frowned and ended the call with a flick of his thumb. "That was Gabriel. I've been gone too long. We should get back."
"Yeah. Sam must be worried by now, too," he agreed.
Castiel shoved his phone back in his pocket, then gave Dean a long, intense look, and a deep growl came from his chest as he leaned forward again, cupping Dean's face in his hands and pressing his lips to his. It was a quick kiss, but the Alpha didn't pull away, continuing to hold him, resting his forehead against his.
"Bozhe, pomogi mne... I never thought an Omega could smell so good," Castiel purred contentedly, his eyes closed, his lips just inches from Dean's, and he could hear how deeply he inhaled his Omega's scent. He closed his eyes as well and did the same, inhaling deeply the scent of cherry pie with honey and a hint of musk, keeping his eyes closed until Castiel pulled away from him. Then he opened them and looked into the blue depths.
"I can't wait to have you in my bed." He ran his thumbs over Dean's lips and chin, watching the curves of his face with satisfied eyes. "I'm going to claim you, da? You'll be all moy. And I'll make sure you'll never forget our first real lovemaking, I swear it," he said, almost stupidly solemn and serious, but his words still sparked a hot feeling of happiness in Dean's chest and he brought their lips together one last time before letting his hands fall from Dean's face with a sigh. "We have to go. They're waiting for us," he finished, turning away to slide into the seats and make his way to the door.
Lovemaking... Alpha said lovemaking instead of sex or fucking, and it pleased Dean in such an absurdly ridiculous way that he was almost embarrassed, but only almost. In fact, a stupidly sweet smile settled on his face, and he held it there as he climbed out of the limo after Alpha.
Notes:
Uzkolot'a - this word doesn't exist in real Russian, but I made it up as the Russian equivalent of "knothead". It's a combination of the words 'uzel' translated as 'knot' and 'ukolot' translated as 'stab'. A less polite variant is "uzloyeb", translated as "knot - fuck", which can also be used as an insult to a homosexual who likes Alphas knots.
Ty moye proklyatiye. Lyubimyy proklinat', no proklinat'. - You are my curse. A beloved curse, but a curse.
Chapter Text
Absently, he looked down at his briefs. The wet trail of his juices smelled so strongly of Omega's heat that it made his nose twitch all over, and he was annoyed that his underwear was already dirty again. He knew it would happen, it always did, the lingering slick stain for three or four days before his heat fully came on, but it still pissed him off every time.
He bent down to reach for his pants and pulled them up his legs enough to reach into his pocket for a bottle of blockers. He shook it out and sprayed it liberally directly into his underwear, then sprayed some more on each scent gland, just to be sure. That should reliably suppress the smell of preheat. He sniffed, and when the smell of the plastic had passed and the air had cleared, he was pleased to find that the smell of the Omega's heat had faded to the point where it was barely noticeable. That was good, now it was time for the other thing.
He put the bottle back in his pocket, got dressed, closed the lid of the toilet and sat down again. And then he took out of his pocket a light pink paper packet, about the size of a cigarette pack, with the letter Omega on it in dark pink and all sorts of names and labels and just everything that used to be on medicine packets. He opened it and took out a leaflet and a patch.
He unfolded the leaflet and began to read: Birth control patch for Omegas containing active ingredients - some foreign word, just blah, blah, blah - for use during preheat and heat. Suitable for Omegas over the age of fifteen - the younger ones were probably out of luck. Not suitable as a means of alleviating the symptoms of heat - yeah, that's not what Alpha gave it for. There was some other crap like that before he finally got to the proper use of the patches. He'd read about it last night after he'd made Sam dinner, but he wanted to read it again, so... A patch, stick it anywhere on the body - there were a few recommended places, like the upper arm, the thigh, or between the shoulder blades. Apply to clean, unbroken skin, and if there have been previous problems with the patch adhering, wipe the selected area with rubbing alcohol or other alcohol-based disinfectant. Ideally, use five days before heat or at the first sign of preheat, but no later than twenty-four hours before heat begins - this should work well. Avoid penetrative sex for at least six hours after applying the patch, ideally twelve - it's almost ten in the morning now, by the time he finishes school, takes care of Sam, packs up a few things, and gets to Castiel's apartment, it'll be eight hours or so. He'd change the patch every twenty-four hours for the entire time he's preheating and heating. If the patch comes off, avoid penetrative sex or use a barrier protection until the next patch is applied, and see your omega gynecologist after the heat.
Okay, that was pretty clear.
Stuffing the leaflet back into the box, he took the patch and turned it over in his hand a few times. It was a square about an inch by an inch of waterproof material the color of skin, maybe a little stiffer than most normal patches, but otherwise it looked perfectly ordinary. And it smelled mostly like plastic and something chemical.
He slipped his shirt off his left shoulder, rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt, and applied the patch to his shoulder. It fit perfectly the first time, but Dean smoothed and pressed it down a little more to make sure it wouldn't fall off. And that was it. It was done. The patch was on and of course nothing interesting happened.
He stuffed the box and the trash into his pocket, straightened his shirt, slung the bag over his shoulder, climbed out of the cabin, and headed for the sink to wash his hands. The sound of the break came from outside, and just as he turned off the water, the door opened.
The smell of Alpha hit his nose, and it was unusually unpleasant, though the mere hints of kiwi and mango weren't bad. It was only his Omega that bristled, bared his teeth and growled, "Alpha who is not my Alpha". Dean wrinkled his nose and looked up through the mirror into the eyes of an Alpha who was his age but not in his class and maybe not even his year. The Alpha's nostrils flared as he sucked in air, then his eyes glistened and his lips curled into a broad smile. More of an enthusiastic one than a predatory one, and besides, this Alpha didn't look like the stunted Knot type.
"Hey, Omega."
"Hey, buddy. And no thanks, I'm not interested. Bye," he dismissed him curtly and walked out into the hallway before the surprised Alpha could recover from Omega's two-second rejection.
He made his way to the classroom, absentmindedly rubbing his stomach a few times on the way. When he looked at himself in the mirror this morning, he had already blown up like a balloon, and he could clearly feel that something in his stomach had fallen towards his lower abdomen. He knew vaguely from health classes and books for Omegas that his uterus was swollen and overgrown with tissue, which was supposed to make his organ feel 'new' and shit. He didn't really care what was going on in his belly, he just wanted it to be over, or at least the heat to start. Once the hormones and the need to fuck took full control of him, all those uncomfortable feelings disappeared.
He entered the classroom and walked past Becky, who ostentatiously turned her head away - she was still angry, even though Lisa had long since left for the other side of the States with her mother - to his usual seat next to Kevin. He threw his bag on the floor, smiled at the other Omega, and sank into a chair. Moments later, the teacher entered the classroom and the class began.
Beta, with large glasses and skirt with a ridiculous pattern of giant flowers, paced back and forth in the classroom, saying something and alternately writing on the board or reading from the paper in her hand. Kevin took careful notes, as did some of his classmates, but some of them quickly lost concentration. Dean was more interested in the empty schoolyard, where the wind blew a few leaves, plastic bags, and a few pieces of paper.
He watched the trash swirl and absentmindedly scratched his forearm. His skin was small, itchy, and hot, and his thoughts were disorganized. Who knew why he was thinking about Alpha Gabriel. And of him and Sam being taken home by Castiel, and then Alpha going off somewhere with his brother, only to make himself properly known on Saturday morning. More specifically, he'd had his usual groceries delivered, which included a small bag of contraceptive patches from the drugstore in addition to the food. By then Sam knew about Dean's coming heat and when he saw the pink box he disappeared into his room for the day. He didn't reappear until dinner, and to Dean's surprise and a little horror, he handed him a box of Alpha condoms and told him not to rely on just one form of birth control and that HIV was a serious disease. In the state he was in during his preheat, he didn't want to address why his little brother was carrying condoms, but made a note to talk to him about it later. After his heat. After the four, five, maybe even six days he would spend with Castiel in his lair and in his bed.
His stomach lurched a little at the thought, and he unconsciously touched his shoulder where the patch had been. Had he put it on properly? Shouldn't he have put it somewhere... well, closer to his ass or stomach? And shouldn't he feel something? Like burning or something... And was this shit even reliable? When he was knotted up and pumped up by a strong Alpha like Castiel... He didn't even finish the thought, and a rush of heat ran through his body. Literally from the tips of his fingers and toes, through his cheeks and ears, and then the heat concentrated in his stomach. The empty and needy place in his belly contracted, his cock stiffened in his pants and his hole clenched as it released a weak rush of juices.
Fuck!
He straightened into a rigid sitting position, hunched over a little, pulled his shirt up to cover anything that might be visible, and tried to breathe out the slowly fading heat with his slightly open mouth. And thinking of something really, really disgusting. Chewing gum stuck to the leather upholstery of his beloved Impala, Trump in a bathing suit, moldy cherry pie... yeah, that helped the most, especially when he imagined the smell of such pie. It reminded him of Castiel, but Castiel was in a bad mood, so his Omega didn't respond with a desire to present himself, but rather with a need to be small and harmless.
That helped enough to get the cock to lie back down and the warmth slowly faded from his body.
Somewhere around the middle of the class there was a sudden knock on the door.
The teacher paused her explanation and, like all the students, turned her head to the door for just a moment before putting the stack of papers down on the desk and going to open the door.
"Hello, Dolores. What is it? I'm in the middle of the lesson..."
"I need Dean Winchester to come with me," came a voice from behind the door that he didn't recognize, but of course he recognized his name and so did everyone in the class. Every head in the classroom turned to him, some curious, some amused, and some gloating.
"Yes... yes... that's the one in the flannel shirt," the teacher nodded and turned in his direction. "Come here, Dean."
He frowned, but stood up without protest and began to take stock in his mind of what he had been doing at school lately. It turned out that he had just missed a couple of classes, broken into an empty classroom, and once snuck out of the school through a window in the downstairs bathroom. That was it. He'd been behaving himself lately. No fights, no destruction of school property, no suspicion of theft (of course, he hadn't stolen what everyone thought he'd stolen, but he had stolen other things, so the suspension was actually fair) or cursing at anyone... well, just nothing.
"What's going on here? I didn't do anything wrong!" He immediately defended himself as he successfully navigated the walk of shame between desks and whispering classmates and came face to face with the tall Beta sporting a figure he sometimes saw in the hallways.
"Don't worry, Omega Dean. You really didn't do anything wrong," the woman assured him, giving him that professional caring look and smile. "My name is Dolores White, I'm the school counselor, and I'm here to escort you to see the deputy principal, Mr. Parker. He wants to talk to you."
As Parker's name was dropped, most of the class erupted in cheers, whistles, and congratulations, along with applause.
Dean grinned; Yeah, talk, that's for sure. They wanted to throw something at him, hoping he was just pretending to be a troublemaker, but he was really a good little Omega at heart, who just needed to be pushed and he would admit to things he hadn't done. Well, Dean will readily admit it, no question about it, and he'll happily enjoy the accolades of his classmates for anything they want to throw at him. And while he was at it...
"Yes! Thank you! Thank you all so much!" He exclaimed, bowing to the applauding class.
"Be quiet!" The teacher in the ugly skirt shouted, loud enough to shout over everyone. Not that it had any effect.
Dean chuckled, and without waiting to be told, he took the initiative himself and walked out of the classroom and down the hallway to the stairwell. He'd made the journey down the empty hallway, accompanied by a teacher or school counselor, to hear the charges, sentencing, and punishment so many times in his life that it had become routine. He was also used to the occasional surprised look from his guards, who couldn't help but wonder how willingly he accepted his fate. This time, however, the counselor looked at him with what looked like understanding, and her faint Beta scent was laced with just that, compassion. She probably thought that Dean, being an Omega, would be afraid of the deputy principal, punishment and such. Well, she was wrong.
He walked confidently into the front office, greeted the old secretary with a wink and a smile, and stood calmly and politely, like a well-mannered Omega, at the door to the vice principal's office, waiting for the school counselor to knock, open the door, and motion for them to enter together.
However, the moment he entered, his sovereignty partially left him, although he didn't show it.
The office was full of people and smells. The first thing he noticed, of course, was Sammy, sitting in the seat of shame across from Parker. Had something happened to Sammy? Or had he done something? Dean's brother didn't get into trouble, mainly because he didn't do anything and his main concern was school. He didn't even have many friends. And partly because if he did do something, he was smart enough not to get caught and not to leave any evidence. Also, he had such a great academic profile that no one ever thought to suspect him of anything. And if he was ever suspected, Dean would automatically take the blame because nothing could mess up his school record, whereas if Sam had a black mark on his papers, it could ruin his hopes for a scholarship, university, and the perfect life Dean wanted for him.
He exchanged a look with his brother that was meant to reassure him that if such a thing happened, Dean would be there to take the blame. But Sam made a face that made Dean nervous. This wasn't a look or an expression the little Alpha would give him when he needed help, this was... uncertainty.
What the hell was going on here, he thought, looking around at the adults in the room. Sure enough, the vice principal was there, the school counselor was there, and then there were two other people.
A corpulent African-American woman in pantsuits, a black blouse, and a gray striped sweater. She was probably a Beta, though he couldn't quite smell her scent. She was about Dean's height, maybe in her late forties, a large dark red stone hung from a long chain around her neck, she had rings on her fingers and was holding an iPad.
And the second stranger was definitely an Alpha. His scent didn't give him away, he was wearing blockers, but his posture and the way he looked down at Dean from above and the way he frowned when Dean looked back at him instead of lowering his head and eyes... that was proof enough that he was an Alpha. He was also wearing black pants and a white shirt, even a plaid tie, and a V-neck sweater pulled up over it, as if trying to give a harmless, almost ridiculous, yet oh-so-old-fashioned-serious impression.
"You must be Omega Dean," the unknown woman said, a small, sweet smile on her lips, and came closer. "My name is Missouri Moseley and this is Alpha Clarkson, we're from the Department of Children and Youth Services."
Dean shuddered. This was his worst nightmare. That the authorities would ever show up while their Alpha was gone and that he and Sam would be separated. Just the thought of it made his omega whimper, and now that he was so close to his heat, it was even worse. He clenched his teeth and gave no sign of it. And he tried to remain completely calm, grateful for his blockers that muffled his scent.
"I know this won't be easy for you to hear, but your father has been arrested."
Arrested? Dad was arrested? It wasn't a surprise, not in the sense that their Alpha was a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen. He was far from it, and it was he who taught them how to cheat and avoid arrest. Which is why it was so surprising that he was arrested. Almost impossible. Dad was too good at everything he did, too much of an Alpha to be arrested.
"For what?" he asked without thinking. He had to know, that was what Dad had been arrested for. It had to be something big, or maybe... maybe they arrested him because he got hurt in an action. Maybe Alastair's men had found him. Maybe he was in bad shape.
"Excuse me, sweetheart?" the Beta asked in surprise.
"What was our Alpha arrested for?"
"Apparently for stealing a car."
Dean snorted.There was no way. Their Alpha could pick a car that was easy to steal and was obviously better at it than Dean, and Dean had been able to steal cars since he was twelve and, of course, drive them. Dad would never get caught stealing a car.
"Bullshit!"
"I know you find that hard to believe. Your father certainly..."
"I don't think that's important," the Alpha jumped in, earning a sharp look from his partner, which he ignored, of course, because he was an Alpha and Alphas always knew and did everything best. "The important thing is that John Winchester is your only legal guardian, and now he's under arrest. And as we know, you've been unsupervised by any adult for several weeks now, with minimal resources and living in a motel. You're both too young to live alone. You need someone to take care of you, and that's why we're here. To help you."
He wrinkled his nose. As the Alpha approached during his speech, his scent, though muted by the blockers, reached Dean's nose and it was an unpleasant combination of potato and iron that he wouldn't have liked even under normal circumstances. Especially now, when he longed for the scent of his own Alpha and every other Alpha around him. But despite how uncomfortable it made him... or maybe because of it... not only did he not back down or bow his head to the Alpha, on the contrary, he took another step towards him and lifted his chin in a pose, looking him straight in the eyes. He could tell by the way the man's lips twitched that he didn't like this pose on Omega, which made Dean very happy. Unlike some of the other Alphas, like Alpha Gabriel, this Alpha only caused a weak instinctive reaction in him, and even now, when he was about to fight, he was actually more inclined to resist than to submit. To fight. To bite and kick and scratch and fight for his pup.
Unconsciously, he took half a step to the side, placing himself between Sammy and Alpha and Beta as well.
"Well, you might as well leave, because we don't need any help. We can take care of everything ourselves," he said sharply, baring his teeth a little as a warning. "We have a place to live, I work, so we have food. We both go to school and Sammy gets good grades, he takes a lot of optional classes and is in various clubs. Mr. Parker here will attest to that," he nodded his head in Parker's direction. "And I'm fine too. No problems or anything. Everything's fine and we're happy with the way things are."
Alpha's jaw tensed even more, disliking Dean's tone, his warning flick of his teeth, and of course his general defiance, which he displayed with great relish.
"I'm sure you're smart enough to know it doesn't work that way," Moseley addressed him again; Dean gave her a scythe look out of the corner of his eye. "You're sixteen, honey, and your brother's only twelve. Neither of you is old enough to take care of yourself. The law is very clear on that. Now you're going to have to come with us. We'll take you to the motel where you're staying, pack your things, and then we'll find a safe place for you to be taken care of."
"And if we don't go?"
"Then the police patrol will help us with you, Omega," Alpha replied sharply.
"Which I'm sure won't be necessary," Mouseley followed immediately, giving her colleague another sharp look.
Dean pursed his lips tightly and dug his nails into the handle of the bag slung over his shoulder. And he stared defiantly into the Alpha's eyes, letting him know that he wasn't afraid of him or the police, but in the back of his mind he knew that he didn't have much choice about what to do now.
He looked around quickly, glancing at the window and the door. They were on the third floor, a jump from that height would kill them, and if it was the door... Just getting from the room to the door would be difficult. The Alpha was too close and of course, despite the slick haircut and the stupid sweater, he was strong and fast. He'd catch at least one of them before they touched the handle. And even if by some miracle they managed to get out of the room, they'd have to run all the way across the school to get out. And that wouldn't be easy, but... maybe they could escape if those two government idiots led them to the car. Then they'd just have to get to Alpha's men's car, and they'd take them to Castiel.
He stopped suddenly.
Alpha. They'd talked about this before, Dean remembered it all too well, and his Alpha had given him clear instructions on how to proceed; to cooperate and tell as much of the truth as would not incriminate him. No hiding, no lying, no fighting. And no running, Castiel surely meant that, too; he just didn't say it out loud. That meant he had no choice but to do as he was told, even if all he really wanted to do was run. Run anywhere, but preferably to his Alpha. But the orders were clear.
"Okay... yeah, we're coming with you. Come on, Sammy. Pick yourself up," he ordered his brother without taking his eyes off his Alpha, raising his arm to indicate that he wanted him closer.
For once, the little Alpha didn't argue, getting up quietly and walking over to Dean so he could put his arm around his shoulders and hold him close. Protect him if he needed it.
This was followed by a farewell to the deputy principal and the school counselor, thanking them for their cooperation and all that crap, and sympathetic looks from Athletic Beta and an impassive expression from the deputy principal, who seemed to be saying that he wasn't surprised that someone like Dean had a criminal for a father. And then they made their way through the silent corridors of the school, Mousley first and Alpha following Dean and Sam. He straightened his back, Alpha and all, even though there was no one to impress. He was probably trying to keep them in line and prevent them from escaping.
Dean knew that he couldn't escape, but he also knew that he had to take care of some things. Now he would have to take these two government clowns to their apartment, which actually belonged to Castiel. He suspected that the Alpha accompanying them would smell not only Castiel, but probably Gabriel as well. Then there was his coming heat, the stupid patch on his arm and another one in his pocket, the Alpha's condoms in his bag, the mark on his shoulder, albeit a little faded now... It didn't take a genius to know that this was exactly what it looked like and that he had to make sure the evidence was removed.
A wave of warmth suddenly washed over his body, causing sweat to break out on his forehead and his stomach to tighten. Another damn symptom of preheating. Fucking hot flashes, or whatever the fuck they were called. He hated it. He hated his stupid Omega biology so much. He hated the way his Omega curled up in a corner and cried for his Alpha. Or the way the fear clung to his throat, his brain swimming in a fog, and he felt like he was about to fucking cry.
Come on, Winchester, you poor little princess in the pink dress. Keep your head up and face the shit storm like a man, not a pussy. And do whatever it takes to protect your Alpha like the real Omega you want to be. A strong, independent one who takes care of himself and doesn't run after his Alpha with every stupid thing. Be the Omega your Alpha wants.
"What are we going to do? Run away from them when we get to the car?" Sam asked in a whisper, his thoughts obviously going in the same direction as Dean's earlier.
He shook his head.
"No, we're going with them."
The little Alpha gave him a surprised look.
"You're not serious? They'll split us up! We'll never see each other again!"
"No, that won't happen," he shook his head in firm denial; he knew it could happen, but he firmly believed that... "The Alpha won't allow it. He'll take care of it. He knows what to do. We've already talked about it."
"Dean..." Sam began with the sharpness of an incipient growl, just as Dean caught sight of the door he was looking for.
"Can I use the bathroom?" He demanded in the softest possible tone, remembering to bend over as much as he could while still keeping his arm around Sammy's shoulders.
Moseley stopped and turned.
"Sure, Dean. If you have to, go ahead," she agreed, oddly enough without protest.
Dean let go of Sammy and glanced over his shoulder at Alpha, who was watching him with a distant look, but he didn't object either.
He walked casually to the door of the restroom, trying not to look threatening, in case one of the guards thought to follow him to keep an eye on him. As unlikely as that was, they were on the second floor after all, and no one would be stupid enough to jump from that height.
As soon as the door closed behind Dean, he quickly got to work.
First he threw away the pink box he'd had in his pocket all along, then he pulled his shirt off his shoulder, tore off the patch and threw it, wrapped in a paper towel, into the trash can behind the box. Finally, he dug out a box of condoms. He went to the same place as the patches.
There was nothing he could do to cover the mark on his shoulder, but he quickly checked it in the mirror anyway. It had been two weeks since the Alpha had marked him, and though he had wondered more than once during those two weeks why Castiel hadn't renewed his mark, he was glad now that he hadn't. The bruise on the protruding scent gland looked more like an old hickey than an Alpha mark. It was partially faded to yellow and small enough to be easily hidden under his T-shirt. He could have easily claimed that the Alpha mark was made by a Beta girl from school. Yeah, he will. He'll claim he was cuddling with a classmate in the bathroom.
He straightened his shirt and glanced quickly at the door.
He hoped he hadn't been here too long and that they wouldn't come looking for him. He still had to contact Castiel and let him know what was going on.
Without much hesitation, he chose the most private cubicle that was right next to the outside wall and crawled into it. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Alpha's number and put the phone to his ear. It rang, again and again, and with each ring Dean's heartbeat quickened and anxiety gripped him. Why didn't Alpha answer? What if he didn't answer at all? He had to talk to him, and not just to tell him what was happening. He just wanted to hear him.
The connection was finally made, and a deep, accented voice came out of the receiver, thick with sleep.
"Din..."
"Alpha... Cas, there's a problem. I'm in the school bathroom and I need to talk fast. I don't have much time," he replied in a whisper, making sure no one in the hallway could hear him on the phone. The echo was shit. "Two from Child Protective Services came to the school. A Moseley and an Alpha Clarkson. They say Dad's under arrest and they're taking us away."
" Okay, Omega," the Alpha replied, his voice suddenly as confident and alert as ever. "We knew this might happen. We talked about it. Do you know what to do?"
"Yes. I'm supposed to cooperate, not tell them about your work, admit that I know you, and not lie unnecessarily."
"Very good. I'll take care of the rest."
"But what about Sammy? And my heat? It's coming any day now... And I don't even know where they'll take us." No, he didn't sound like a hysterical Omega, or maybe he did a little. Damn it! He had a right to. His heat could come on literally in a matter of hours, and it was going to happen in some damn Omega shelter, or with some foster parents, or who knows where they were going to send him and Sam. If they send them anywhere together at all. And that was pretty fucked up.
Spending the heat in cheap motels was no fun. Not only was it uncomfortable, but there was always the risk that some Knot would pick up his scent, maybe through a window or under a door, and he knew only too well how that could end. Being out in the open with complete strangers could be a thousand times worse. And if there was an Alpha...
His stomach dropped at the realization of what could be in store for him. He could have been at the mercy of some fucking Knot during his heat. Ended up fucked and almost certainly pregnant. Was this how his first time was supposed to be? No, it wasn't supposed to be. He didn't want it that way. Maybe he was stupidly afraid of Castiel's huge cock, but he wanted Castiel. He... he liked him. He wanted to spend his heat with him, he knew that for sure now. Fuck! He should have let the Alpha fuck him a long time ago and not been such a cowardly idiot who thought his ass was too small and gentle to take the Alpha's cock and knot.
"I'll find you, Dean. I'll find you every time, you understand?" Alpha growled possessively; Dean's Omega shivered with satisfaction. "Do everything you can to stay alive and unharmed, as you always do, and be patient. I promise it won't be long before we meet again."
"All right, Alpha. I'll do as you say," he nodded and took a breath to tell him more about the weapons hidden in his closet when he heard the door to the hallway creak open. "Our stuff. The closet and the pillows," he said quickly, hoping the Alpha would understand.
He cut off the call with one hand, flushed with the other, and opened the door just as Alpha Clarkson reached it. He almost ran into him. His first reaction was to growl, but he quickly controlled himself and stopped before the sound could leave his throat. He looked briefly into Alpha's eyes, then forced his gaze down. All his instincts urged him to resist, except for a tiny nagging part that always favored submission, but rationally he knew he shouldn't cause any trouble. He had to keep a low profile, so like a proper Omega, he kept his eyes out of the Alpha's and forced himself to relax his back and let his shoulders drop.
"You've been here a long time," he commented to the Alpha, not moving to make way for the door. He had him trapped, but Dean forced himself not to react.
"Yeah, I... um, got a little sick," he lied confidently, putting humility and vulnerability into his voice.
The Alpha let the air out in a long exhale, causing a not unpleasant rumbling in his chest, and his attitude changed. He relaxed, ceasing to be threatening and becoming protective, and his muffled scent became soothingly faint. Then the Alpha placed a hand on the back of his head.
Another wave of heat swept over Dean's body, this time accompanied by a sickening feeling of arousal and also a deep disgust from his Omega, who growled and rejected the Alpha's touch because he wasn't Dean's Alpha. It took a lot of effort not to pull away, and even more effort to stay calm and pretend that the touch wasn't only not bothering him, but that it was comforting.
"Don't worry, Omega. Everything will be fine. You'll be safe now. Come on," he urged, pushing him toward the door with a gentle pressure on the back of his head.
Dean clenched his jaw and, his head still slightly bowed, Alpha obeyed.
°°0°°
"It's the right address," he said patiently, discreetly pressing a hand to his stomach. He wasn't sure, but he had the impression that his preheating was intensifying. In a few moments, the blockers would probably not be strong enough to suppress his scent, because the smell of heat could not be masked by any blocker. It couldn't even be washed away. His damn scent glands would start announcing loud and clear to the entire neighborhood, to every single Alpha who smelled him, that there was a young Omega ready for a knot and puppies and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Stalling won't get you anywhere, Omega," the Alpha admonished him from the wheel.
He couldn't help rolling his eyes in frustration and disgust. They had already discussed this, and he didn't want to talk about it a second time.
"You called a motel that had an deputy principal in our file... Alpha," his secondary gender pronounced half as a retort, certainly without the respect Alpha wanted. "The front desk told you that we moved out three weeks ago. We're staying here now in a family friend's apartment."
He had no reason to lie about where he lived. Why would anyone lie? They might as well have been taken to some orphanage or foster home without their belongings.
The Alpha gave him a look through the mirror, then drove past the front door of the house where their apartment was and pulled into the next available space.
As Dean got out, a car with Alpha's men drove by and stopped a few spaces in front of them. He sighed. I tried to look in the rear view mirror every few minutes during the ride to see if they were still in the back seat, but they lost sight of them a few times. Alpha's men must have been several cars behind them because Clarkson took them in one car and Moseley followed in her own car. Dean understood that if the Alpha men had gotten any closer, Clarkson or Moseley might have spotted them.
He averted his gaze before either of their escorts could notice where he was looking and made his way to the front door. Then he led everyone upstairs to their floor and apartment.
"Clean your shoes. I vacuumed here yesterday," he ordered into the tense silence as he unlocked the door and walked in, then turned to them. "So this is where we live. We have everything here. Fridge, running water, nice clean bathroom, even a TV... See? We're not missing anything here. Feel free to take a tour. Mi casa es su casa," he told them as familiarly as the lump in his throat would allow, waving his hand in an all-encompassing gesture.
Maybe when they saw that they lived in a clean, warm, comfortable apartment and that their shared lair and nest was being properly taken care of by Dean, they'd leave them alone. He was already sixteen. They could get them some kind of remote guardian or some kind of government check. They used to do that kind of thing, didn't they? He'd been taking care of himself and Sam... well, practically since his mom died. He was just a puppy then, and he made it. Why couldn't he do it as a near-adult?
The two adults exchanged glances again and did what he told them, but they didn't look too thrilled. He didn't understand, why the hell not? This place was one of the nicest he'd ever lived in, it didn't even smell like all the previous tenants. It was in a quiet, nice neighborhood, with a store just a ten minute walk away. There was even a small playground with a few trees in the attendance area. Not that they needed something like that, but it was there and it was a sign of quality. Wasn't it?
"We've got a pretty nice view here, look..." he drawled slightly, smiling to show how good they had it, and went over to the kitchen window and opened the curtains. "The sun comes through the window in the morning, and if you go... yeah, there's a grocery store over there. I mean, it's only open till ten at night, but who needs to shop at night? We don't, we're in bed. And here, see?" He let go of the curtain and walked over to the kitchen counter. "We have a coffee maker... yeah, yeah, I know I'm not supposed to drink coffee, but it's not like I'm drinking beer or anything... I don't drink that. And then we have this thing. It makes tea. Sammy likes tea," he pointed to the pot to make tea and then walked over to the fridge, which he opened confidently. He didn't want to see the alcohol for a while after the last drinking session, so he left the pack of beers to the guys in the opposite flat. So he could safely show off the nicely full fridge, which contained vegetables, cheese, ham, milk, juice, a bottle of Coke and even some yogurt, because Sam liked that. The contents of the adjacent freezer would have been less cheerful, with lots of frozen pizzas, burritos, burgers, and stuff like that, but... hey! Who in the States didn't eat like this? "And we have a fridge full of food... And a bathroom! We got a bathroom with clean, hot water. Want to see the bathroom?"
"We see what you're trying to do," Alpha stopped him on his way to the bathroom. "No matter how good the place looks, we can't leave you alone."
"Why not? By your own admission, this is a good place for a puppy, and I've been taking care of Sam for years. I did it even when our Alpha was with us. I have no problems taking care of him anymore."
"Dean... sweetheart," Beta interrupted him this time, approaching him with a soft, sympathetic expression. "Who's paying for all this?" She asked in that stupidly soft way.
"I said... it belongs to a friend of the family."
Moseley turned to her colleague, who nodded gravely, as if they'd exchanged questions and answers via damn telepathy or something.
"I can smell the Alphas here. Two men who are definitely not related," the Alpha said with a small nod in Dean and Sam's direction before turning back to his colleague. "Omega isn't mated, but I'm sure he's marked."
"Will you show us your neck?" Beta asked him firmly.
He pursed his lips, not forgiving himself a defiant expression as he showed first the untouched shoulder and then the one with the fading hickey on it. Of course, the eyes of both adults were on his shoulder, but Dean kept his cool, sure they couldn't connect the mark to Castiel in any way. It wasn't a teeth mark, Alpha had been careful about that, and the mark was so old it didn't even look like it was Alpha's.
"I got it from a girl at school." He pulled his shirt back over his shoulder. "We were just having some fun. Nothing big or permanent, you know?"
He didn't have to be very observant to know that they didn't believe a word he said. And he had to admit that he wasn't surprised. He would have to be lucky to be believed, and when was the last time Dean had been lucky? Almost never. The only good and lucky thing had been his chance meeting with Cas, but even that would be considered unlucky by many. Being a Mafia hubby wasn't exactly considered a happy career by society. But Dean saw it as luck... which, of course, had now completely left him.
What surprised him was when Moseley turned to Sam:
"Can you show us your neck, too?"
The little Alpha, still standing quietly and unobtrusively a short distance from the door, blinked in surprise, then his expression changed to one of disapproval.
"Why?" he asked defensively.
"Please, Alpha."
Sam frowned a little at the Beta's use of his secondary designation, and after a quick glance at the other Alpha in the room and Dean, he finally did as he was told. He showed one side of his neck and then the other, perfectly clean, of course. What Alpha would mark an Alpha puppy with anything but scent? Half bites were only for... well, those who were romantically involved and had slept together, no... wait! Those idiots thought Castiel was going to touch Sammy?! That was so ridiculously stupid! How dare they say that about his Alpha? Yeah, he wasn't a saint. He was a former hit man and the head of a criminal network that controlled New York, but he wasn't a fucking pedophile!
With clenched jaw and fists, he took a step forward and glared at the two government clowns. He had to defend his Alpha, that was what his Omega and his instincts wanted, but he paused and remembered what Cas had told him to say.
"I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that. He let us stay in this apartment because it's safer and more comfortable than a motel."
"I know it's hard for you to understand, Omega, but older Alphas don't just give young Omegas like you anything for free," the damn Knot said, as if he actually knew anything about Castiel and Dean. He was just an idiot Alpha, so he thought he was always right.
"We're True Mates. That's why he's helping us."
"I'm sure he told you that, but it's not true," Beta said with equal certainty, but she knew and understood nothing. "He just told you to trust him. And he took care of you when your father left you, so that you would feel indebted to him. He has no good intentions, not with you and probably not with your brother."
"Don't talk to me like I'm five years old. I'm not stupid and I know what the Aphas want, but this is different," he said sharply. "Look, he didn't bite me or mark me or do anything you're not allowed to do, okay? We haven't slept together. We're just friends."
"If that's the case, you won't mind telling us his name."
"Castiel Novak.... no... no, wait... his real name is Ivan. Ivan Novak, but he calls himself Castiel," he replied without blinking. He had it in his head not to deny that he knew Case, so he went with it. And apparently it was a good instruction, because both Alpha and Beta seemed momentarily surprised that he'd told them Alpha's name so calmly.
"And would you be willing to submit to a medical examination?"
"What kind?" He frowned at the Alpha who had suggested it.
"A general and gynecological examination with the assistance of the police."
The idea didn't appeal to him for many reasons, if only because he hated doctors and an examination right after his first heat was enough to last him a lifetime. But... the Alpha had told him to cooperate. Did that count? Could they find something that would hurt Cas? What could they find out? He wasn't entirely sure, but he doubted the doctor could find out if he'd ever had a dick up his ass. Sex didn't mark you permanently. It didn't change you. Besides, they'd never really slept together and he was pretty sure no one could tell if he'd sucked someone's dick or if someone'd sucked his dick. Maybe if he did it today or yesterday. He'd seen enough crime to know about DNA evidence. But the last time he had seen Alpha was Thursday. He barely had Castiel's scent on him, let alone anything else.
So, yeah, as much as he didn't like it, this was a way to convince them that he and Cas were "just friends," because if they didn't find anything, and if he insisted that they'd never slept together, they'd have nothing to use against Alpha. Sure, maybe it wasn't right for a strange, older man to let them stay with him, but it probably wasn't illegal, and if it was, it wasn't years in prison for... for whatever Castiel would be accused of if the real truth came out.
The only problem was his heat.
"I... can't. Not now," he refused, which was clearly what they expected, so he decided to come out with the real reason. "I can't because... my heat is here. It will start in a day or two... You can smell it, Alpha, if you don't believe me," Alpha urged, taking a step forward and tilting his head to the side to expose his scent gland.
He didn't like to do this, but he was willing to endure it to prove that he was telling the truth.
He was also sure that his scent was strong enough to pass through even freshly sprayed blockers, if only the Alpha would sniff close enough. Oddly enough, the Alpha glanced at his Beta counterpart, who gave him a slight nod of approval, though she frowned a bit.
Then the Alpha walked over to him and leaned in to sniff Dean from a polite distance. No rough, loud sniffing, just a few long breaths before he straightened up and backed away.
"It's faint, covered by fresh blockers, but it's there. His heat is close."
"All the more reason to have a doctor look at you, if that's okay with you," Moseley said.
"'Is it okay now that...?" He frowned.
"Sure."
"'Fine. Okay. I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm telling the truth."
"In that case, go pack your things," Beta requested softly.
He could feel Sammy's questioning and tense expression on his back. Turning to him, he saw the silent question in his brother's eyes as to whether they would continue to cooperate or try to escape. He glanced quickly over Sam's head at the door. There was that option. He could run. The Alpha was far enough away for them to escape, and since he still had the keys in his hand, he might be able to lock them in the apartment, but Castiel's orders were clear and understandable. Cooperate.
"Go pack, pup," he urged Sammy, much to his obvious displeasure.
The little Alpha shot a scowl in the older Alpha's direction before lifting his head and jutting his chin in a pose, but he did as Dean told him and went to his room. Dean took one last look at the two adults and made his way to his bedroom.
He felt Mosley following him. He was aware of her protective presence, so he opened the closet carefully, leaving the door open so she couldn't see what was inside, even though she was standing close to the bed. He left most of their weapons in a bag that was kept at the bottom of the closet. The bag wasn't there. Alpha's men had managed to carry it away. That was a great relief. Instead, he opened the closet wide to show that he had nothing to hide, pulled out the empty duffel bag, and started stuffing the few uppers he had into it. A quick pack. He'd had experience with this before.
It didn't take more than a few minutes before he was packed, and when he turned around, a disheveled Beta greeted him with a friendly smile.
"Ready to go, honey?"
"Sure. Ready for anything," he replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out of the bedroom, Mosley following as if she were his shadow.
Sam was already packed and waiting at the door, guarded by Alpha Clarkson, who stood to his right, blocking the exit more to keep him from escaping than to protect him or anything else. Dean gave the older Alpha a frowning look, then put his hand protectively on Sammy's back, indicating that they wanted to leave the apartment. The Alpha opened the door for them.
He didn't say thanks or anything, just walked out and waited until everyone was gone, then locked all the locks properly. He hesitated for a moment, wondering what to do with the keys. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't want the keys to the Alpha's lair and his nest to fall into the hands of anyone unauthorized. But he didn't have much of a choice but to put them back in his pocket, except maybe to give them to the guys in the apartment across the hall. But he didn't want to tell them. So he put the keys back in his pocket where they belonged.
They rode down the elevator in silence, and when they were on the street, Dean looked again at the Toyota parked on the other side of the street. This was really the last chance, but Alpha's orders were clear and he wasn't allowed to disobey them.
"Come on Dean, you're coming with me," Mosley urged him.
He frowned. He didn't like being separated from Sam and he disliked it more than ever.
"Why would he come with you?" Sam asked, coming to his side, straightening up and assuming a protective Alpha pose, or at least something that looked like it.
"Your brother has to go to the hospital..."
"And I'm going with him," Sammy interrupted her gruffly.
"Can't do that," Alpha Clarkson replied. "A family has already been chosen to take care of you, and your brother is going to the Omega Shelter."
"No, I'm not leaving him! He's either coming with me or none of us are!" Sammy decided firmly, with surprising strength and determination, and even said it in the true Alpha tone that sounded so out of place with him.
"That's impossible, Alpha. Omegas and Alphas can't be in the same foster home. Your brother will be safe in the Omega Shelter. They will take care of him and he will be content and happy because he will be in the company of other Omegas."
"He'll never be content and happy if we're not together," Sam countered. "What about his heat? He needs me to protect him! I won't let you take him away from me! He's my Omega!" The growl that came from the little Alpha's throat was deep and angry. Maybe it was Dean's approaching heat, but he could actually feel the influence of Sam's Alpha on his Omega. It was nothing like the vague feeling of wanting to submit he had somewhere in the back of his mind whenever he met an Alpha. This was different. It was like he was looking at his brother for the first time in his life and his Omega was telling him: This is your puppy, but he's also an Alpha and he deserves respect because he wants to protect you.
But Sam was still a kid, and this new Alpha shit that had been going through his head lately was probably too much for him. His scent was filled with such an intense stench of tainted oil that it almost made Dean sick, and red circles appeared around the irises of his eyes, a harbinger of rage.
Dean, as always, felt the urge to calm Sam down, and in fact, he could smell his own sweet scent making its way through the blockers.
"Sam... Sam... Alpha!" He called him twice by his first name, which had little effect, and a third time by his second gender, which surprisingly worked, and Sam turned his head towards him. "It's okay, Alpha," He said, burying his hand in the hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. "Look at me, buddy," he forced him to give him his full attention with the force of his commanding voice. "It's going to be okay. I'll be fine. I can handle it, okay?"
"But, Dean..."
"It's going to be okay, buddy. You're going to go with Alpha Clarkson now, and you're going to do everything he says. And you're going to behave yourself with the people they put you with, all right? You're going to listen to them, you're going to go to school, you're going to study, you're going to do your homework, and you're going to eat your damn bacon when they tell you to eat it, because if you don't... if you embarrass me there, I'm going to come and kick your ass, you understand? Remember, I raised you and I raised you damn good! So don't ruin my name. Are we clear?" Sammy pursed his lips, and his eyes, filled with suppressed anger and a hint of red on one side, but also tears on the other, were fixed defiantly on Dean's eyes, as if to force him to submit. Instead, Dean gripped the back of his head tightly. "Are we?!"
It was a long moment, longer than usual, before Sam finally lowered his eyes and head in a gesture of submission.
"Yeah, we're..."
Dean said nothing more, just pulled the little Alpha close, pressing his head against his shoulder as he buried his nose in the overgrown hair and breathed in his scent. The scent of his pup, his little brother. And he tried to remember it.
"Whatever happens, Sammy, I'll find you," he whispered in his ear before planting a quick kiss in his hair and stepping back. "Now get out of here!" He challenged sharply, taking a step back.
It was hard to see the flash of something like pain in Sam's eyes and the way his scent filled with the repulsed puppy, but it was better if he ended it a little more sharply. Easier for both of them.
But the lump in his throat choked him, and his eyes burned with unshed tears, and his Omega, so strangely loose and numb from the pre-game, was curled up in a ball in a corner somewhere, having lost her pup. But he held her tight, or at least as tight as he could. It wouldn't be the last time he saw Sammy. His Alpha would make sure of that. He would make sure that he would have his pup back with him, sooner or later, because that's what his Alpha said. He promised. And Dean believed him. He trusted him with his whole damn heart and head and body and everything.
The little Alpha finally turned away, took one last look at Alpha Clarkson before he walked to his car.
Dean watched his retreating back motionlessly until he disappeared into the back seat, and he continued to watch as the car pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street. He must have exuded enough reluctance to move that Mosley didn't make him get in.
The car finally rounded the corner and disappeared. At that moment, Dean was drenched by a mixture of a rush of heat and a strange chill he had never experienced before. It was intense, suffocating, all the insides of his body turned over and his legs became uncomfortably weak. For an uncomfortable second, he feared he might fall, so he grabbed the roof of the car he was standing next to and let out a long breath. At that moment, a warm hand with dark purple nails rested on his bare wrist.
"You need to breathe slowly, sweetheart. Take a nice... inhale and exhale..." Mosley urged.
He looked at her sharply. What the fuck was she thinking? That he was a kid? A weak Omega? That he wanted her help? All this shit was her fault. If they'd left them alone, he'd be warming up Sam's frozen lasagna right now, getting ready to spend his heat in Castiel's loving arms. Instead, he lost his puppy and will end up in some damn shelter.
She could shove her pity and her weak but caring Beta scent up her ass. Dean didn't want anything from her.
With a heartfelt growl that made her jump in surprise, he yanked his hand out from under hers.
"Leave me alone!" He snarled, showing his fangs. "This is all your fault! No one needs you! You're just taking puppies from Omegas and breaking up families. You're just federal rats! You're not even worth spitting on!" He unleashed all of his anger on her, violently opening her car door, causing her to jump backwards and climb into the car before slamming the door behind him.
He didn't know what was in store for him now, but he was determined to keep his anger in check and walk through it with his head held high. And then... then, when he was back in Alpha's arms and Sammy was home again... then he'd have no problem saying the names of the people who were supposed to disappear.
Chapter Text
The room smelled like a hospital. Disinfectants, cleaning products, chemicals, ozone from modern air filters, a mixture of drug smells, vomit, shit, piss and human smells of all subgenders. The last few nasty smells were at least very faint. There was only one bed (a gynecological bed for Omega men. He had seen it once and it was easy to recognize because it had barriers on the lower third of the sides and the third could be divided in half), two plastic chairs and a stool on wheels, probably for the doctor. The slanting sun shone through the blinds, a simple digital clock hung between the two windows, and a television hung in the corner. That was it. There was nothing else, and if it weren't for the fact that his brain was a little numb, he would have gotten bored soon enough. But as it was, he just sat on the bed, trying to ignore the ghostly feeling of itchiness and heat coursing under his skin, and listened to the muffled sounds coming from the hallway through the door. The sound of footsteps, voices, the creak of wheelchairs and rolling gurneys, phones ringing and doctors being summoned. And from the other side, traffic from the street reached him.
There was a knock, and immediately the door half opened and a pair of uniformed police officers peered into the room. A man who kept to the background and a young blonde woman who nodded at Moseley.
"I'm going to step outside the door for a moment. Can you hold it in here, sweetheart?"
"Sure," he replied with an icy shrug. He didn't like hospitals or doctors, but he wasn't afraid of either, and besides, even if he was, he wasn't a whiny Omega who needed to hold hands when he was afraid of something.
Beta smiled sweetly and patted his wrist encouragingly as she rose from her chair and disappeared down the hall. The door closed behind her, leaving Dean alone. He didn't know how much time he had, but no one had taken his phone or asked him to look at it yet, so he decided to make use of it. It might have been a stupid idea, but he had River and at least he could text his Alpha now that he couldn't hear his voice. He could let him know that he was okay for now.
He quickly pulled out his phone.
Dean: I'm in the hospital
Dean: st mary magdalene
Dean: I'm okay
He texted and sent it not only to Castiel, but also to Sammy so that he would know that he was okay, too. That was about all he could do before the door opened again. Literally at the last minute, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked at the group of people accompanying Moseley with a calm expression on his face.
Right behind the older Beta was a young blonde policewoman. She couldn't have been much older than Dean, maybe less than twenty-five, and she was really pretty. She had everything he would have liked, including blue eyes, big lips and tiny hands, but for some reason the sight of her made him angry. His Omega growled menacingly as if to drive her away, and he felt an itch in his mouth as he longed to bite her. It took him a moment to realize what his stupid Omega biology was trying to do to him. The policewoman had to be an Omega, even if she wore blockers that masked her scent along with the stench of the hospital. But she was definitely an Omega. A young, beautiful, fertile Omega, and since Dean's inner Omega had puppy-making with Castiel planned for the next few days, she didn't want any other Omega besides Dean to get Alpha's attention. And of course it didn't matter that Castiel wasn't interested in women at all.
"I don't want her here," he said simply, frowning at the blonde. "I don't want another Omega in this room." He parted his upper lip slightly, showing the teeth in question as a silent warning.
Surprisingly, the blonde policewoman didn't hesitate or resist for a moment, just bowed her head in a gesture of submission and began to back down with her words: "I'll send my colleague."
He saw her off with a wary glance, and only when she had disappeared behind the door did he glance at the others who had come with Moseley. He was a short Beta doctor, definitely shorter than Dean, with overgrown stubble, what looked almost like a beard, eyes bulging like a frog, and his hair already thinning a bit. And the last arrival was a nurse, definitely a Beta too, she was a bit fatter than Moseley and had peroxide-bleached dreadlocks on her head and was pushing a cart with various tools inside.
"I suppose we'll wait for an officer," the doctor said, pushing past Moseley and heading for a mobile stool.
"Yes. He has to make a record," Moseley agreed.
As if on cue, the door opened again and the officer Dean had seen standing behind the blond cop earlier walked in. He was older than she was, definitely of Hispanic descent, and looked rather insecure, including nervously passing his iPad and phone from hand to hand before taking off his hat, quickly scanning everyone, and finally resting his eyes on Dean.
"Can we get started?" Doc asked.
"Sure," Moseley nodded and looked at the officer. The man looked uncomprehending for a moment before he seemed to light up, cleared his throat and tapped the screen of his phone.
"Date, November sixteenth, two thousand and twenty-three. Record of medical examination of minor Dean Henry Winchester. Recorded by Officer Patrick Garcia, Beta. Others present are..."
"Missouri Moseley, Beta, New York State Department of Children and Youth Services."
"Dr. Aaron Bass, Beta, Chief of the Omega Unit at St. Mary Magdalene Hospital, examining physician."
"Nurse Faith Summers, beta, assistant nurse."
"Deana Winchester, do you consent to this examination and that it be conducted with the cooperation or under the professional supervision of all of the above?" Garcia asked.
Dean frowned. This bullshit was absurd and ridiculous. What he wanted most was to run to his Alpha's lair and curl up in his bed, smelling of cherry pie with honey and almond crumble and cuddle up to his Alpha. He knew he couldn't have that, so he just hoped he could get through this damn investigation as quickly as possible, and then Moseley would take him somewhere where he could lock himself in a room, lock the door properly behind him, curl up in a corner, and get through the horrible four days they'd been waiting for without getting fucked and impregnated by some disgusting Knot.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. I don't care. Can we just get on with it? I'm not getting any younger here," he snapped in that general irritation, but his feelings were amplified by another uncomfortable blast of heat that gripped his insides.
The doctor shifted closer in his chair.
"First, I'll tell you what I'm going to do... I'm going to do a general examination, which includes things like weighing, measuring, blood tests, and a visual inspection of your entire body. I'm going to comment on the entire examination for police records, and we're also going to take your picture for the same reason. Then I'll do a gynecological exam and take some samples. Some of the procedures may be uncomfortable, but nothing should hurt... except maybe taking blood, which is always a little painful. Here, at least for me. I don't like needles," the Beta doctor said helpfully; Dean didn't buy it, he knew he was trying to gain his sympathy by revealing something personal, so he ignored it and just frowned. "Anyway..." the doctor continued, his smile fading a little when Dean didn't respond, "if anything makes you uncomfortable or in pain, just say the word and we'll stop immediately. And if you have any questions, just ask. It's your medical condition, and at your age you have a right to be fully informed about it, and you have the same right to refuse any examination, test or medical procedure. Do you understand, Omega Dean?"
"'Yeah..."
The doctor was satisfied with his short answer, as were the others.
"Let me start by asking you a few questions while the nurse takes your blood pressure and draws blood for tests," the doctor said.
He frowned as he watched the nurse approach him with the blood pressure cuff.
"What tests?"
"Basic blood work and tests for sexually transmitted diseases."
"Dude! I don't have syphilis or any of that shit, okay! I'm careful and I'm not a hooker!" he objected, offended. It wasn't like he'd ever been tested, but he'd used a condom, and he'd only been with Castiel recently, and he hadn't actually slept with him yet. And he didn't feel sick.
"No one thinks that of you," Moseley assured him pleasantly. "The tests are mostly for your safety."
Yeah, sure. That was what he believed. If he had something, they'd surely use it as a reason to keep him from ever seeing Sammy again, or as proof that he was prostituting himself or selling himself to Castiel. But he figured he had no choice but to agree anyway, and he was sure they wouldn't find anything, so he didn't argue any further.
"Let's look at the questions, shall we?" The doctor intoned, reaching into the trolleys for the folders with some papers pinned to them. "There were a few things in your school records. I know you've been vaccinated, you don't suffer from any chronic illnesses, and you're not on any medications. Right?"
" Yeah."
"Have you ever been ill or injured? I mean, anything more serious than a cold or a skinned knee..."
He knew what it was. He wasn't stupid. This was a reference to Dad. A subtle way of asking if their Alpha had ever beaten him so badly that he broke something. Of course, the doctor thought that since their father had been arrested and they were poor and had no roof over their heads, their Alpha was some kind of abuser. Yes, their Alpha had his bad times. When he was drunk, he'd occasionally smash a phone, kick a chair, put his fist through a wall, or start a fight in a bar. He was just an Alpha, and Alphas were like that, they had a short wick. But he never laid a hand on Dean or Sammy. Except in training, of course. That wasn't on mats with gloves on, and it wasn't some pre-arranged karate dance. It was a real fight, where blood flowed and bruises were made. Dad was always careful though, he never broke anything or hurt them seriously.
"No, I don't think so, but... I do a lot of biking and skateboarding and being outdoors. I climb buildings and trees and stuff like that. I do sports too. And sometimes I fall."
The doctor wrote something on his paper.
"Do you take any drugs?"
"No!"
"I mean, even painkillers or attention deficit disorder..."
"I don't take any pills. Never," he refused firmly, jerking as the cuff on his arm inflated and squeezed his extra sensitive skin.
"Do you smoke?"
"No..."
"Do you drink alcohol?"
"No."
He lied confidently on the last two questions and didn't have to try very hard. There was no one in the room with a good enough sense of smell to know that he was lying if he happened to catch a whiff. That was the last time that had happened... he couldn't remember when, but he wasn't so sure of himself when he was perhaps only a few hours away from the outbreak of the argument.
"Are you sexually active?"
He hesitated. What was the best answer to that question? If he said yes, they'd immediately think he was talking about Castiel. If he said no, it might seem strange that someone his age wasn't interested in fucking. The Alpha said to tell as much truth as possible, so he went with it.
"Yes... but not with Alphas," he added immediately. "Only Beta and Omega girls... women. From school and stuff."
"Have you ever been pregnant?"
"Of course not! I told you I don't sleep with Alphas or guys in general."
Beta made two notes at once.
"Have you ever taken oral blocking drugs? They're pill blockers."
Was this guy serious? Pill blockers were the most effective form of scent blockers ever. A pill every morning for breakfast and the scent glands stopped working (even shrunk, they said), but cycles and fertility were preserved. A little miracle like that would have been good for him, wouldn't have attracted the attention of the stupid Knots, but unfortunately it was also the most expensive option. He could hardly afford it.
"No."
"What about suppressants?"
"Not that either."
"Hormonal birth control?"
Except for the half hour or so he'd had a patch on his shoulder, he'd never even had birth control in his hand other than the rubber. And he didn't think that half hour counted for anything.
"No."
"When was your last heat?"
"I don't know...about three months ago."
The doctor paused a little longer, but unlike Case, he didn't comment on Dean's use of the words "I don't know" and moved on to the next question:
"Do you have any idea how long your cycles are?"
"Hmm... I don't know, probably something between ninety and a hundred days. Give or take a few days."
"And how long is your heat?"
"It's never been longer than four days." He knew that for a fact.
"How old was the first time you had heat?"
He stiffened, a cold running through his body despite the heat of the preheat, and it had nothing to do with the nurse he saw out of the corner of his eye as she approached his hand with the needle. The point here was that he knew very well when his heat first came, and he didn't want to be reminded.
"Thirteen... almost fourteen," he corrected himself, looking down at the needle that had just pierced the skin at the crook of his elbow to hide whatever was flashing in his eyes or face. The nurse immediately inserted the tube and it quickly began to fill with blood.
"Have you ever been to an Omega gynecologist?"
This question didn't bring back fond memories either, but at least they weren't scary. Just uncomfortable, because shoving a plastic tube up an ass wasn't something anyone would enjoy.
"One time. Our Alpha dad took me there right after my first heat was over. The doctor said I was fine."
"You're going through a preheat right now, yeah?"
"Yeah..."
"How long has that been going on?"
"Since Thursday for sure."
"Does that make today the fifth day?" Doc asked; Dean nodded. "It usually takes five to seven days for the preheat, so your heat should come on in four days," he estimated aloud, to which Dean had nothing to say for a change, so he remained silent. "Let's get on with the examination, shall we? Can you please undress? Just your underwear for now, but no socks."
He looked around. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of undressing in front of a bunch of strangers, but it wasn't like he'd never been seen naked before. And while he had agreed to it, he had suspected that he would have to undress and submit to examinations, including fingers and things being stuck up his ass, he just hadn't realized there would be so many people there. But he wasn't going to flinch. He was no coward.
He stood up and started to undress.
Getting rid of his clothes was uncomfortable on one hand. As the fabric slid down his sensitive skin, it scratched and itched. But on the other hand, when he finally pulled off his shirt and threw it on the bed, letting his jeans slide off his hips, he felt an incredible relief. His skin could finally breathe, and the cool, air-conditioned air of the office cooled the heat coursing through his limbs.
He exhaled in relief... while the nurse who took his clothes off the bed took a long breath. Strange.
"Let's weigh and measure you first."
He remembered that from his... well, probably not his first visit to the doctor, but certainly the last and only one he remembered, which had been after his first haggling session. So he'd stepped on the scale and let himself be measured without a word, just to get it over with.
"5'7" and 171 pounds. Those are high numbers for a sixteen-year-old Omega, but they're within the normal range considering his athletic build. Can you stand up straight with your legs together and your arms out in front of you?" The doctor instructed him.
He didn't understand why he had to do that, but he did.
The doctor got up from his chair and walked around him, running his hands over his back, his hips and his outstretched arms. Dean tensed under his touch and had to stop himself from growling. His entire body was uncomfortably sensitive, and while this one was far from his Alpha in appearance and not even remotely pleasing, his touch elicited a strange and unpleasant mixture of something like excitement and deep disgust all at once. His Omega growled, very unhappy to be touched by someone who was technically capable of making him a puppy - jeez, that was such a twisted idea - but he wasn't the Alpha Dean and his Omega had chosen as their Mate.
"Good posture. No signs of malnutrition. Can you open your mouth?" Beta asked pleasantly.
Dean let his jaw drop, forcing himself not to flinch as the doctor gently took him by the chin and peeled off first his lower lip, then his upper.
"Normal teeth, eights missing for now. Fangs large, but still within normal size for an Omega. Secondary salivary glands slightly swollen, probably from preheating. No missing teeth, cavities, or fillings. Have you ever worn braces?"
Dean pursed his lips and grinned.
"Yes... and I usually live in the Hilton, too," he snorted. What did the doctor think? That they had a few grand left over to stuff down the bottomless throat of the insurance company or some dentist's pokets? Unless the blood is gushing or flowing, or the guts, bones, and tendons are coming out, no injury or illness is serious enough that it can't be treated with needles, thread, bandages, and painkillers.
Of course, no one laughed at his ironic remark, in fact they looked absurdly serious, almost as if they were at a funeral. It would have been nice if they'd been at least a little more... cheerful. It would have helped Dean with the stone-cold fear that lay in his stomach and weighed him down. And maybe even with the damn foreplay that had just sent another wave of heat over his body, tightening his insides so much that he just put a hand on his lower abdomen and squeezed.
"Can I sit down?"
"Just hold on a little longer and put your hands along his body, please," the doctor requested.
When Dean did as he was told, the policeman handed his phone to Moseley and, with the tablet apparently ready to take pictures, walked over to the doctor, who was just touching the skin on Dean's abdomen, the area where he had enlarged sections of green and yellow (bluish in a few places) soap-covered beat marks. They already looked good, didn't hurt, and weren't tender. But both Betas looked at them as if they were serious, and then the cop even reached into the bag hanging across his chest and pulled out a plastic half-square, about three by three inches, with a measuring device on it. The Beta Doctor took it and put it next to every single green spot so that it would be captured in the photo that the cop took. Dude, it was like a stupid crime scene.
"Bruising to the abdomen and lower torso, approximately fourteen days old. Due to the age, the original size and shape cannot be determined exactly, but he estimates six blows," the doctor dictated, and oddly enough, yes, he estimated how many times Alastair's men had covered him up.
Then they moved on to Dean's back. He tilted his head to the side and his shoulders hunched warily. He didn't like strangers on his back. And when the doctor put the gauge to his skin, he almost jumped again.
"Distinct bruising on the left lower back. About two weeks old."
Surprisingly, he was hit again. Must have been the kick to the kidney.
The Beta doctor and the policeman returned to the front. It was a little reassuring to have them in sight, and to watch the doctor feel his neck - he really didn't know why - and then run his hands over his scent glands. At that moment, he jerked his shoulders and bared his teeth in a snarl before he could stop himself. His glands were sensitive, even the slightest touch sent the sweet Omega scent wafting through the room, and at the same time Dean's Omega howled furiously, refusing to be touched on the shoulders by anyone but his Alpha.
Surprisingly, the doctor raised both hands and leaned back a little.
"I'm sorry, Omega," he surprised him a second time with his apology before lowering his hands. "Stench glands swollen and sensitive from the heat. Bruising on the right side of the neck, about fourteen days old. Located directly on the gland in areas typical of Alpha marking and Mating Bites. The parotid gland is intact, as is the skin. We need to photograph the mark on your gland as well as the other bruises. Shall we?"
Dean frowned, perhaps a bit confused. On the one hand, he was tempted to repeat that it wasn't an Alpha mark, but a Beta hickey (Lisa was an ideal candidate if they wanted to know who did it). And secondly, he didn't understand why the hell the doctor was asking at all? Somehow they were just there to take his picture. He didn't have to give them permission. In fact, if he had refused, they would have taken whatever pictures they wanted anyway, so why protest.
"Sure, whatever." He let them do what they wanted.
"Okay. Tilt your head to the side, please."
The Beta Doctor took the meter back from the cop and held it near Dean's scent gland. Two clicks of the camera on the iPad and he was done.
"That's it," the doctor announced, stepping back a little, as did the cop. "Now I'm going to need you to take off your pants and hop on the gurney."
He hooked his fingers into the elastic of his briefs and stiffened. This was the part he was least looking forward to, and the part he was a little afraid of. Years ago... back then, after his first heat... he had experienced how uncomfortable it was to lie with his ass in the air and have someone's fingers and various tools shoved up there. It was a lot like the presentation position, and as he had recently discovered, presenting himself was something he didn't like. Being helpless and not knowing what was going on behind him... And here were all these people taking pictures.
"Is he going to take my picture again? Because I don't want my dick... my penis in a picture."
"If you tell me not to take a picture of something, I'm not going to take a picture of it. The doctor will only describe it," the policeman assured him as if it were a matter of course.
Dean frowned and looked around.
"Does everybody have to be here?" That was the second burning question.
"I'm here as a representative of the state, which now has custody of you, Dean. Temporarily, I'm your legal guardian," explained Moseley, who had been standing quietly and watching everything until now. "And Officer Garcia is here as a representative of the police. I'm sorry, but you can't do this without us. You can still refuse further examination. You have every right to do that."
Right, and if he did, it would be used against either him or Castiel. And he couldn't let that happen. He'd come this far to prove his lie, that he and Alpha were just friends, and he was determined to carry on bravely, so without further complaint, he pulled down his pants and threw them on a nearby chair. He held his head high, clenched his jaw and struck a pose, ready to proudly defy any bullshit anyone might have. After all, he knew his cock was Beta-sized (and he was damn glad of it), so he was too big for Omega, and the doctor had commented on every single thing about Dean that wasn't "Omega" enough. His height and weight, the fact that he was all muscle instead of skinny arms and legs and rounded hips, what a proper Omega should look like. He even commented on his fangs, which weren't abnormally large under him. They were in perfect proportion to his height and broad shoulders and square face.
"Jump up," the doctor said instead of commenting on his appearance, tapping his hand on the edge of the bed. "The nurse will give you a pillow," he said as he pulled a stool to the shorter side of the hospital bed and sat on it. "You know what to do?" He asked; Dean frowned silently at the bed where the nurse had just placed a large, seemingly hard pillow in the shape of a half cylinder. "Lie face down, put the pillow under your stomach and get on your knees."
He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat down on the edge of the bed. He hesitated for a moment before he arched up fully and slowly assumed the desired position; on his stomach, pillow under his body and calves digging into the bars on the sides of the bed. Doing it here in front of everyone was fucking humiliating. Strangers stared at his exposed ass and hole, which was probably slippery with juices. He exposed himself like a lowly shitting Omega and the worst part was that he perversely enjoyed it. Not that strangers were staring at him or that he was about to freak out, but the position was strangely comforting. It was as if his Omega was satisfied that what it wanted was happening, and now it was just waiting for Dean's Alpha to show up.
He grabbed the disposable paper and looked at the white wall. His vision of it was a little blurry and it took him a moment to realize that there were tears in his eyes. He blinked quickly to get rid of them. He blinked quickly to get rid of them. He was determined to focus on something other than what was going on around him or the heat that still coursed under his skin, but it was hard when he heard the creak of a wheelchair sliding across the linoleum behind him. Then the bed shifted beneath him and his legs were pulled apart. It wasn't like he was strapped down or anything, he could easily slide off the bed at any time, but the way his legs were forced apart and how far apart they were gave the impression that he couldn't move.
There was another squeak of a chair and the sound of a latex glove being put on and some other noises and, most importantly, the smell of something he identified as lube. It almost made him look over his shoulder, but he controlled himself and just breathed, forcing himself to relax. Just in time. Wet latex covered fingers dug into his hole. It was uncomfortable and at the same time... his hole and inner walls were hypersensitive due to the impending spear, and so a wave of itchy heat swept through his body at the touch. Something like an air that made him move forward to get as far away from the probing fingers as possible. He couldn't fucking get aroused here! That would be sick.
"No signs of forced entry or forced knotting or consensual panretic intercourse in the last seventy-two hours to see or feel," the doctor announced again for the record before speaking to Dean, "We'll take a closer look, take samples, and we'll be done. Just a few more minutes."
He said nothing, just clenched his teeth and thought of everything that could distract him from the things that were happening to his ass. He thought about Sammy, where he was now and if he'd ever see him again. He hoped he was safe and that he would get some damn yogurt with fresh blueberries for dinner, because he wanted one tonight. Because no one ate yogurt for dinner except his crazy little brother.
Despite his best efforts, and despite his thoughts about little Alpha, he still felt the doctor shoving some damn plastic instrument up his ass - he didn't want to see what it was - and he was aware of the fact that it was easier than the first time he'd been in for a checkup. It was uncomfortable, stretching his sensitive walls more than he would have liked, but there was no hint of pain.
"I confirm my previous conclusions," the doctor said. "Now just the samples..."
The sensation that followed was probably that of a sample being taken, and then finally... to Dean's immense relief, the instrument was removed from his sensitive areas, and moments later the bed returned to its original position with a quiet, electric hum. He couldn't stop himself from immediately rolling over onto his back, protecting his sensitive, gaping, wet ass, and clutching the pillow. And he met the eyes of several people who stared at him like he was crazy, but he didn't care. Hell, none of them knew how he felt now that he had to stick his ass up in the air and show his hole; open and wet, to complete strangers.
"That's it, Omega. You can get dressed now," the doctor urged, placing a box of pull-up wipes at his feet. "Here you can wipe yourself..."
Was this guy crazy? Did he think he was going to wipe his ass in front of everyone? No way. He slid off the bed and immediately went to the clothes the nurse had left there. He put on layer after layer, it was uncomfortable on his sensitive skin, but better than staying naked.
"Date, November sixteenth, two thousand and twenty-three. Four hours and forty-eight minutes in the afternoon. Record of examination of Dean Henry Winchester completed. All further documentation and transcripts of the examination will be attached to the record," The officer ended the recording, turned it off, and slipped his cell phone into his pocket. The strange thing was that Dean hadn't even noticed when he took it from Moseley.
He pulled his shirt over his shoulder and adjusted his collar. He swallowed. It was done. He had finally gotten this whole ridiculous shit over with, and now something possibly much worse was waiting for him. No, Winchester, stop thinking like that. No matter what happens, you'll make it. For Sammy. For Castiel, his Alpha.
He turned to face Moseley, bending down to pick up his bag. He was about to tell her that he'd just jump into his shoes and they could finally get out of the hospital when a ring tone echoed through the silent room. The Beta he was about to address reached into her pocket and quickly glanced at the glowing screen of the phone she had pulled out.
"It's my boss. Can you take a moment..." she turned to the officer, nodding slightly in Dean's direction.
"Sure, I'll take care of him." The officer nodded.
"I don't need a guard. I'm not planning on running," he grumbled, not that Moseley was paying attention to him, she was already on her way out the door.
"Mrs. Moseley tells me," the doctor turned to him, "that you have no relatives here in New York and will be placed in the Omega Juvenile Shelter."
"Yes, something like that, I suppose. She told me the same thing," he nodded, frowning at the doctor; what exactly was this guy looking at?
"The shelters are required to have heat rooms where you'll be comfortable and quiet during your days, but if you'd like, I can prescribe medications to ease the heat symptoms," Dr. Bass offered.
Such medications were available, but not without a prescription, and unless you had good health insurance, they were so expensive that he didn't even consider buying them. Besides, he didn't need them. He handled his heat well and it didn't last that long, and besides... those drugs were supposed to make a person numb. No matter where he went, he wanted to be one hundred percent alert and ready to fight to the last breath for the next few days. And if any Knot wanted to push in his ass, he'd make sure he took enough damage to make him remember Dean for the rest of his life, and certainly not in a good way.
"No, I'm fine."
"Look, Dean..." the doctor said with a sigh, getting up to approach him. And shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm not going to speculate, okay? But you should know that when an Omega spends time with an unrelated Alpha... I mean close, intimate time... it's quite normal for a pheromone bond to form. The Omega's body then needs an Alpha whose pheromones it knows, and that will affect the experience of heat, regardless of whether the Omega really wants the Alpha or... doesn't want him that much. Do you understand? This heat could be difficult for you."
He understood what the doctor was talking about, everyone knew about pheromone bonds, but that wasn't the point with Cas. Not really. His great scent had been comforting from the first moment, but he hadn't started to like Castiel just because of his scent. It was his dry sense of humor (or lack thereof), his occasional confusion laced with sheer command that impressed Dean. It played on something in him, an Omega string or something. And it was his, literally deadly, power that promised protection for him and the puppies (a somewhat ridiculous thought, but somehow... somehow he had gotten used to it, and especially now he liked it) and that allowed him to do what he couldn't do at other times. With his Alpha, he didn't have to be on guard and he could enjoy the feeling of being protected that he didn't have otherwise.
That was what it was about with Cas, not just her pheromones. And if his heat was bad, it wasn't the fault of any pheromones or his omega hormones, it was the fault of... liking Castiel and missing him. And he could handle that. Plus, the point about needing a clear head still stood.
"I don't need medication. I can do this on my own."
"Your choice," the doctor didn't argue with him. "But if you change your mind, ask one of the guardians at the shelter for medication. They have contacts with doctors for Omegas who will write you a prescription."
"I can't afford it anyway..."
"That's not a problem. You're under the care of the state of New York, and the state pays for all necessary tests, treatments, and medications. And these medications fall under that."
"Okay. I'll think about it," he promised, just to get the doctor off his back, and he did it plausibly enough as Beta nodded in satisfaction.
Then there was a silence, broken by the nurse picking up her instruments, and a moment later both doctor and nurse parted ways, leaving Dean alone in the company of the policeman, who was running some errands on his iPad and then on his cell phone. When the wait dragged on and Moseley didn't return, Dean sat down again, put his bag on his lap and waited with his eyes fixed on the door.
°°0°°
Missouri closed the door behind her and looked at the screen of her phone, where Patricia's name was. She'd never had a good feeling about her supervisor, and even after three years, she still hadn't gotten used to her. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was younger, had been in the job for a shorter period of time, and was working in a position that everyone in the office thought was Missouri's. Although Missouri's colleagues thought she didn't like her supervisor precisely because she had taken her job. Little did anyone know, however, that Missouri had turned down the offer to head the department. She didn't take the job to climb the corporate ladder or because she couldn't do anything else, but because she wanted to help and believed she was helping. Even after the long twenty years that had kept others down and numb, Missouri still gave her all to her work, believing that every child had a chance to be better than his or her parents. And her reward was the first smile of a puppy she could rescue from the hands of cruel parents or the horrors of a junkie's den.
But Patricia felt differently. She didn't care about the children, they were just numbers to be plugged into a budget, and she was convinced that some cases were a foregone conclusion. And Missouri suspected that Dean would be exactly the kind of case she thought was a foregone conclusion.
Dean's mother had died when he was a little child, and from what she'd gleaned from school records, the two Winchester boys had been taken by their father on an endless road trip across the States. Typical behavior for an Alpha who lost his mate. For Alpha John Winchester, it made no sense to live and protect a territory where his mate was no longer, and certainly not safe, given the way Mary Winchester had died. So he seemed to be on a pilgrimage, trying to find a new, safe territory for himself and his pups, only, as sometimes happened, he couldn't find such a place, and so he wandered on and on. This was not good for the pups, especially the Omega pups. And Dean was suffering from all the signs of an uprooted Omega: loss of nesting instinct, inability and unwillingness to submit to Alpha authority, and aggression. The only instinct that remained strong and nurturing in him was the instinct to protect and nurture the pup. She could see it in the way he constantly put himself between them and his brother, literally protecting him with his own body. And how he always kept him close to him. Sam was more than a brother to Dean, he was Dean's puppy.
Dean was a vulnerable young man, despite his outer and inner strength. He was a dominant Omega, but still an Omega who longed for what all Omegas wanted; a safe place, protected by a strong Alpha (or Beta, for there were no limits to love), where he could nest and take care of his pup. The moment someone like that came along, an Alpha who could at least give the impression of strength... an Alpha who had the resources to provide a permanent home for Dean... an Alpha who promised to take care of his pup... at that moment, the young Omega was willing to do anything.
Alphas like Ivan Novak surely knew exactly what to do and which Omega to choose. What to say and do to make an Omega like Dean trust them, and once such an Alpha had built up trust with an Omega, it was very hard to break their 'relationship', because an Omega like Dean was fiercely loyal and devoted. He would never say a bad word against 'his Alpha', and without a witness? Without witnesses, such cases were a foregone conclusion, because witnesses were the key with kids Dean's age, especially when no biological evidence was found. And there were none here. Certainly nothing that could be directly linked to a particular person.
The problem was that Patricia would only see Dean's troubled past and his aggressive to violent behavior and would not ask any questions. Nor will she be willing to try to convince Dean to speak out against the violent man who controls him, because she will think that Dean did everything for money. As if that would lessen the trauma that poor, young Omega had to go through when he fell into the hands of someone like Alpha Novak.
Missouri sighed and took the call, holding the phone to her ear.
"Patricia..." she greeted her superior matter-of-factly.
"Missouri," she replied just as distantly, getting right to the point. "Is it done?"
"Yes. The doctor just examined him and everything is documented."
"How bad is it?"
"Physically...? I've seen much worse. He's not malnourished, but he has some signs of a beating and an Alpha mark on his shoulder. Mentally, he's worse. He's withdrawn, cautious, suspicious, and defensive. It won't be easy to get him to talk about everything that's happened to him. And being separated from his brother, who he thinks of as his puppy, hasn't helped. I am afraid that when his heat is over, he may develop separation anxiety and the effects of broken scent bonds, especially with his brother, but I think also with Alpha, who abused him. If he could at least stay with his sibling..." she muttered.
"The law and regulations are clear on that," Patrie replied in a preemptive voice. "You can't put unpaired teenage Alphas and Omegas in the same household. The only way would be for them to be taken in by the same family where there are no Alphas. We didn't find one in a hurry, and the couple who was willing to take a twelve-year-old Alpha only had one place. I have already arranged a place for Omega at Omega Sun Hill.
The name of the shelter run by Alpha Evans immediately gave her goose bumps.
Sun Hill was considered the best place for troubled Omegas, and Alpha Evans had received several awards from various charities and Omega associations for helping Omegas off the streets, as well as an award from New York City for his years of youth work and community service. Alpha Evans took in underage Omega prostitutes, Omegas on probation, or Omegas facing a choice between juvenile detention and Omega Sun Hill at the courthouse, and every single one of these Omegas was said to have come out of his shelter a changed Omega, all adoring him as their Alpha. At least that's what everyone around here said about Sun Hill, but Missouri had a different opinion, which she always kept to herself and kept herself and her children as far away from Omega Sun Hill as possible. She had a bad feeling about the place and the owner, and she didn't think it would be a good place for Dean.
"He doesn't belong at Omega Sun Hill. He's a good and kind boy who's had bad things happen to him in his life," she argued, determined to find another home for Dean. "What about Blue Seahorse?"
"They only take puppies there until they're fifteen."
"I didn't mean permanently, but for a few days while we find a foster home for him."
"He's sixteen and a troubled Omega. You'll have a hard time finding foster parents willing to take him."
"Dean isn't troubled," she argued, though he knew it would be easy to argue that point. Omega's even more incomplete school records spoke louder than she did, and more pleasingly to Patricia's ears. They were filled with records of fights, disorderly conduct, disrespect for teachers, missed classes, destruction of school property, suspected theft, and several suspensions and full suspensions for any of the above or for general disruption of the school. And reports from school counselors and psychologists who talked about at least ADHD, but worse, brain dysfunction and sociopathic behavior. The latter two judgments, in particular, were not only unprofessional, but, according to Missouri, completely wrong. Not only did she feel that Dean was a good young man at heart, she also had her experiences. Preheat and heat had always affected the Omegas' reactions because of the hormones coursing through their bodies and affecting their brains, but... Yes, Dean didn't suffer from mild attention deficit disorder, but he certainly didn't have diminished intellect or cognitive abilities. He was a smart, observant boy, and if he'd been supported and helped at school and at home, he might not have had any behavioral or learning problems. And it wasn't too late for him to get help, just not at Sun Hill.
"I talked to Alpha Clarkson. Omega Winchester is an uprooted Omega. He needs a dominant, strong Alpha and a stable environment with clear rules to feel safe and secure. Alpha Evans at Sun Hill will give him all that."
"I don't think discipline is the only thing Omegas need," she said, disagreeing as always with the notion that rules set by an Alpha are necessarily what Omega puppies need. Adult Omegas were encouraged to be independent, and no one was surprised when an Omega lived without an Alpha or any other kind of pack, as they had when Missouri was young. But when it came to children? There was still the notion that Omega puppies couldn't get along without clear rules. There was talk of developmental and behavioral disorders, which Dean was indeed exhibiting. Missouri felt that yes, Omegas needed rules, and they needed someone to rely on when they couldn't make decisions for themselves. But this was about trust, not discipline.
"That's your opinion," Patricia brushed her off. "Alpha Evans' methods work, and from what I've seen in the Winchester files, Alpha Evans is the only one who can handle him. He specializes in hopeless cases of Omega teens who have not been shown how to be a proper Omega and has had great success."
"What about the sexual abuse he suffered? He needs psychological help. Talk to someone about it."
"That's debatable," said Patricia, uncompromising and uninvolved. "The way I see it, Missouri, when their alpha father abandoned them and they ran out of money, Omega Winchester looked for a way to make money. Up until about eight years ago, he would have been arrested for prostitution."
"He's only sixteen! He's just a kid!"
"Have you forgotten that we live in New York? Kids younger than him are out here killing in broad daylight, robbing stores and raping to get into gangs. Omega Winchester is lucky to come to Sun Hill and have a chance at a normal life."
"I want it on record that I did not agree to his placement at Sun Hill," she laid out the last card. It didn't mean much, but if her bad feelings about Sun Hill were ever confirmed,it would at least wash over Patricia too.
"Okay. I'll put it in the file," she agreed neutrally. "Do you want me to assign his case to someone else?"
"No. I'll take care of it."
"In that case, take him to Sun Hill."
She was happy to say goodbye to Patricia, but as she put the phone back in her pocket, she sighed. She'd done what she could for Omega Dean for now, all that was left was to pray for him and maybe cast a few spells for the spirits and saints to protect the boy.
She touched her necklace briefly, then stole a soft, reassuring smile onto her face, meant only for her children, and went back to the room.
Chapter 49
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A steady, thin rain fell from the sky, falling into his hair and trickling down his face. Dean didn't pay much attention, just staring in disbelief at the house Moseley had brought him to - an Omega shelter called Sun Hill.
It was an old house, literally out of a horror movie. I don't mean in the sense that it was a dirty ruin or anything, but it had all these different turrets, wooden awnings, brick foundations, tiny windows with curtains and shit like that. If he'd found an Indian burial ground or the ghost of a Civil War soldier in the basement, he wouldn't have been surprised. Or maybe there were buried corpses in the tiny garden, barely 6,5 feet wide, that ran around the perimeter of the entire house along with a high brick wall. It made the house look even more absurd in relation to the tenements that surrounded it. It was as if someone had made a rip in time and space.
"Don't stand in the rain, sweetheart, and come here!" Beta called to him, already through the metal gate, up the small stone walkway, and up the wooden steps to the covered porch.
He stepped through the gate, closing it behind him - surprisingly it didn't creak - and ran up the few steps and up the stairs to get out of the rain. He reached for his hair and shook the water out of it. Mosley pressed the doorbell. A ringing sound came from inside the house, adding to the mountain atmosphere.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked with a sneer. The absurdity of the situation was so great that it just made him laugh. "This place looks like in Psycho. You want me to look for the body of Bates' mother?" He arched an eyebrow.
No matter how hilarious his remark was, Beta didn't even smile and gave him a look so ridiculously sad that he was annoyed, not for the first time, by how faint her scent was. It wasn't weak because of the blockers, it was just the way she had it. Some Betas did.
The door opened to reveal a petite Omega, about fourteen years old, with brown hair and big eyes. She was dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt with a gray unbuttoned hoodie and white sneakers on her feet.
Dean frowned.
He wasn't a fan of the bullshit about Omegas loving colors, but he had to admit that he'd never seen an Omega who liked to dress in gray or beige. Even he found the clothes she wore somehow... numbing and unnerving at the same time. And his Omeza didn't like it much. She cowered in the corner, frowned, and kept saying something about this being the wrong place for a nest and puppies. Dean knew that too, of course, but along the way I had partly convinced myself that it didn't have to be that bad. Maybe it would be like the doctor had told him; they had a room here where he could lock himself away for a few days until his heat passed, and then just wait in relative comfort and peace until Castiel came for him. But at the sight of the quiet little Omega, eyes downcast, asking them what they wanted, that idea began to melt away. Dean couldn't be that lucky, could he?
"I'm Missouri from the Department of Children and Youth Services, and this is Dean's new... protégé from your Alpha," Beta said, and who knew why she hesitated at the word 'protégé' enough to make Dean even more cautious.
The Omega didn't say anything, just stepped aside and let them in, her eyes still downcast and submissive, and as Dean walked past her he could finally catch her scent. It was so faint, and while there was an Omega sweetness to it, it was faint, and it wasn't because that was her natural scent, but it wasn't the blockers either. He could clearly identify the smell of wood cleaner and beeswax. And the smell and presence of another Omega made him just as uncomfortable as he had been in the hospital, but at the same time he was aware that there was something wrong with this smell.
He wrinkled his nose and took in more smells. He smelled several Omega scents, four or five of them, similarly muted to the one coming from the Omega at their side, and over it all... the Alpha scent. Oh yes... the Alpha running the Omega shelter. That kind of power must have been very pleasing to the Knot, but if he thought he was going to use it on Dean, he was sorely mistaken. He was going to resist, just on principle, and just concentrate on not having to think about the nasty, tentacled fear that wormed its way through his insides. The Alpha, an adult and certainly, unfortunately, physically stronger than Dean, should be in a house... in a lair that belonged to him... during Dean's heat. The thought terrified him and made him sick, because it was his worst fear. If this Alpha tried anything, he probably wouldn't be able to defend himself.
He stopped sniffing and started breathing mostly through his mouth because the faint scent of Omegas made him nervous and the scent of Alphas made him uncomfortable and he needed to be alert and figure out how to get out of here as soon as possible. Ideally before his heat came. Cooperating was one thing, but being locked in a house with a damn Alpha was another. He'd rather take his chances on the streets, where at least he had somewhere to run.
He looked around cautiously, assessing his surroundings, or at least trying to, but he felt his head wasn't clear enough. They were in a small hallway with a high ceiling, all wood paneling, old tiles on the floor, and lamps hanging on the walls that looked like they had once been lit by candles or something, but someone had converted them to electricity. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked the doors they'd come through. They looked old and were made of solid wood, not the paper ones they had in motels, and had three locks.On each side of the door was a window with stained glass. He was close enough to see that they used to open, they had a handle on them, but now the shutters were nailed to the window frames with large nails.
To his right was what looked like a dining room. There was a large table and chairs, and he could see a fireplace. On the other side was the living room. There, for a change, he saw chairs and a coffee table, both somewhat similar to the things Castiel had in his lair, so probably antique furniture, or at least imitations.
There was a closed door right across from the entrance they'd come in, maybe from the basement, but more likely from the closet, since the basement door was the one on the side of the staircase. And that the house had a basement was certain. He could see the windows in the stone landing as he ran across the garden to the entrance. The staircase to the upstairs itself ran up the left side of the hall and was made entirely of wood with a carved banister.
At the top of the stairs, a man appeared. In his fifties, brown hair, elongated face, stubble, small square glasses on his eagle nose, and from his posture and the sharp look in his brown eyes, he was the owner of the omnipresent musky Alpha scent, made up of a mixture of cardamom and grapefruit. The owner of this lair. An Alpha, not Dean's Alpha, but an Alpha nonetheless, and his damned body responded with a mixture of conflicting needs.
One, coming from his devoted inner Omega, was the desire to growl, snarl, and fight to keep the strange Alpha from coming near him, because all his future puppies - even if they were absurd thoughts he'd never had in his heat - had to belong to Castiel. And then another part of himself, one even more primal and shitty than his Omega, causing heat to sweep over his body, his insides to contract and his cock to buck in his rapidly soaking briefs. His fucking treacherous hole began to leak as if he were an Omega whore.
The Alpha began to descend the stairs, looking directly at Dean as he did so with a fixed, hard stare, his head raised in a display of dominance that had no effect. He would not submit to the Knot. Never. This wasn't his Alpha.
The confused feelings that raged through Dean's body turned more and more into anger and the desire to fight back with every step the Knot took, and the moment the man descended the last step, they disappeared completely. The smell of cardamom and grapefruit filled his nose. Without thinking, Dean straddled, hunched into a defensive position, and bared his teeth with a growl, making it clear that the Alpha was to stay as far away as possible.
"You must be the Omega Winchester," the Alpha said.
"Sort of. Who's asking?" He spat through bared teeth.
"This is Alpha Evans. He owns this house and runs the Sun Hill Omega Shelter," Mosley answered in Alpha's place, then turned to Alpha, "I'm Missouri Mosley from the Department of Children and Youth Services. We haven't met," she added, extending her hand to him.
Alpha accepted it before looking away from Dean, much to his relief. At least he could relax a little, even though he continued to bury his eyes in Alpha's temple, his lips parted slightly by his fangs.
"Nice to meet you." He returned Beta's hug. "Let's get the paperwork done. Meanwhile, Penny will show Dean to his new room."
"I want to see his room," Beta replied to the surprise of both Dean and Alpha.
"Of course. We can go together," Alpha agreed without blinking, taking a step back and moving up the stairs.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's see where you're staying," she turned to Dean friendly and raised her hand in an inviting gesture.
He frowned.
He didn't trust Moseley, if only because she had separated him from his brother and was part of the state power. The police, various government officials, the Department of Child Welfare... all those institutions... they couldn't be trusted. They didn't help people like Dean and his family. And Dad taught them to avoid them. But at the moment, the old, corpulent Beta seemed the more pleasant of the options he had, so he better slung his bag over his shoulder and went to her side. He remembered to give Alpha a warning glance on the way, before he had to turn away as Moseley wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and guiding him towards the stairs.
They went up to the top floor.
Directly across from the stairs were several windows. The first thing Dean noticed was that the windows were also hammered in with large nails. The second was a barren garden with some dead bushes below the window and beyond that was the back wall of the apartment building with a fire escape crawling up it. The view was pretty shitty.
You could go right and left from the stairs, and there were a trio of solid wooden doors in each direction. Six rooms in all. Alpha walked past them and to the right down a narrow hallway where you could look down into the hall through a carved railing. He stopped at another window, this one overlooking the street in front of the main entrance, and nodded to the last door in the row.
"He'll be staying here, with Angel," the Alpha said, turning to the door, knocking and opening it almost immediately.
If it hadn't been for Beta, who still had her arm around his shoulders and smelled vaguely protective, he probably would have approached the freshly opened door a little more cautiously. Moseley, however, just let him look inside.
The room was small, smaller than Castiel's bathroom, and almost empty. There were only two beds pushed against the wall, two bedside tables, and a small wooden shelf at the foot of each bed. That was it. No carpet, just a bare wooden floor. No colors, just brown wood and white sheets. No electronics or anything personal, just the faded smell of the Omega boy sitting on the bed to the right, pressed up against the wall below the window. He was a Hispanic boy about Dean's age, slim and petite as Omegas should be, smelling of lilac and licorice, and dressed in exactly the same gray pants and white T-shirt as the Omega she'd opened for them.
"This is Angelo. He's only been with us a few days, so he's still getting settled in. That's why I put him in the same room as Dean. I think they're going to be friends," Alpha said; Dean turned his head to him and took in the smell, but it hadn't changed at all. Either it wasn't a lie or Dean's sense of smell had been affected by the preheat.
"Get up, Omega, and say hello to your new roommate," the Alpha ordered in a way that made Dean growl in protest. He hated it when strange Knots tried to give him orders, or tried to give them to anyone else around Dean who clearly didn't want them. But... maybe this wasn't the case, he thought involuntarily when he saw with what ease, and he would almost say willingness, Omega, who was sitting on the bed, got up and walked over to the door.
"Hello. I'm Angelo. Welcome..." the other Omega said, holding out his hand.
"Yeah... hi. I'm Dean," he replied distantly, not accepting the hand because he was uncomfortable with the idea of touching another Omega and didn't really like his presence. Nothing against Angel per se, he was probably a nice guy and under different circumstances Dean would have gotten along with him, but right now he didn't like having Omegas around.
Mosley turned her frowning eyes to Alpha.
"Dean's going to need a heat room in a few days."
"I know about that. We have a comfortable, private and safe place for him to build his nest," Alpha replied.
"I want to see it," Moseley decided.
"May I speak with you privately...?" the Alpha said it politely, but in typical Alpha fashion, so it was more like a command, and he stepped back to the window without looking to see if Beta followed him.
Moseley's hesitation was obvious, but she finally let go of Dean and walked over to the Alpha.
Dean cocked his head to the side and pricked up his ears to hear what they were going to say.
"I know you're doing your job, Mrs. Moseley, but your behavior is undermining my authority," he said matter-of-factly. "When a troubled Omega like Omega Dean comes to my lair, it is imperative that he see and understand from the first moment who the Alpha of this lair is. He must realize that I am the leader of the pack and that everything I say and do is for his own good. He must respect and trust me. If everything I do is questioned by a Beta..." he let it fade into nothingness.
"It is my duty to examine the conditions into which I bring a minor," Moseley argued bravely. Not all Betas would dare question an Alpha so openly, and if she hadn't been the one to take him away from his pup, he might have admired her for it. Either way, he was rooting for her.
"My shelter has been inspected many times. I have great facilities for Omegas here."
"This room doesn't look like it..."
"You don't seem to understand the psychology of Omegas at all," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice. "I am giving the Omegas a clean nesting place to arrange as they see fit. They are most comfortable in a nest that they build from the ground up, with no one to interfere with their nesting."
"I understand that, but still..."
"If you understand that, then we have nothing further to discuss," the Alpha interrupted, gesturing toward the stairs. "Please, let's go to my office and do the proper paperwork while Omega Dean unpacks his things." He said it in a way that didn't allow for any discussion, and his attitude was perfectly clear as well.
This time, Beta complied, though she made no attempt to lower her gaze or show that she was submitting to the Alpha. She held her head high and instead of walking straight to the stairs, as Alpha had clearly asked her to do, she walked back to Dean, reaching into her pocket on the way and pulling out her business card.
"Take this, honey," she handed the small piece of paper to Dean. "I want to hear from you as soon as your heat is over, okay? Or whenever you need me."
"Yeah, sure," he said neutrally and took the card. It would probably be pointless if he sent her to hell here, but he certainly didn't plan on contacting her again.
"Okay. Take care of yourself, and don't forget I'll look in on you in a month," she added with that learned, friendly expression she always used to address him, and stroked his cheek.
Only then did she make her way to the stairs, accompanied by Alpha. Dean listened for a moment to the footsteps receding down the creaky staircase and the creaking of hinges, followed by indistinct voices that faded as the office door must have slammed behind Alpha and Moseley.
He turned back to the other Omega who was still standing in the doorway. Their eyes met, Angelo grinned, turned on his heel and walked back to the bed. Dean guessed that he had no choice but to go in. Trying to escape now would be damn foolish, but at night, when everyone was asleep, it should be easy.
He entered the room and threw his bag on the floor. At that moment, an unpleasant wave of warmth washed over his body and his insides tightened. Damn preheat! He needed to sit down for a moment, whether he wanted to or not, so he dropped onto the bed and discreetly pressed his lower abdomen. It was swollen and tender, and while it wasn't pain in the true sense of the word, it was damn uncomfortable. If he hadn't been in this damn place... alone, without Sammy... without his Alpha... if he had been in Castiel's lair with his beautiful, huge tub... he and Cas would have crawled into that tub and tried every bubble program there was. And his Alpha would be hugging him...a small, amused grin lifting the corners of his mouth. A hug? Sure! Especially Cas... he wouldn't just hug him, he would turn into a giant, cuddly cat with at least ten pairs of octopus arms, stroking every inch of Dean's body while purring contentedly and occasionally growling possessively.
Shit, Winchester, stop thinking about it, he ordered himself as he somehow smelled his own arousal, but also felt a rush of heat in his gut, followed by a new wetness in his ass, plus the pressure in his eyes as tears welled up in them. He'd be a pretty pathetic loser if he cried like a little Omega girl right now.
"What are you here for?" the other Omega broke the silence.
"For nothing. Why would I be here 'for something'?"
"Most of us are here for not acting like proper Omegas. What have you done?"
"I'm not saying anything, and even if it was for something, it's none of your business."
The other Omega grinned.
"I see you need something up your ass," he said mockingly before collapsing on the bed. "I'll wait until your hole is dry and then we'll talk."
"I won't be here that long," he snarled back, not very wisely to be honest. He shouldn't have implied that he was going to run away tonight, because he didn't know this boy at all and couldn't trust him. He might as well have told the Knot who ran this place. "My Alpha will come for me," he added, making it sound like he was an incompetent Omega waiting to be rescued by a powerful Alpha. Yes, under other circumstances he was willing to wait, but he didn't want to be in some strange Alpha's lair during his heat, so he planned to escape despite Castiel's orders.
Angelo shot him a look before laughing out loud.
"Really? What's your daddy's name?"
"He's not my daddy, he's my True Mate," he replied through bared teeth, not really knowing why. His Omega just wanted to make it clear to the other Omega that his Alpha belonged to him, and somehow, at this point, it seemed important to him to insist on this True Mates nonsense.
Angelo chuckled again.
"Let me guess... he's in his forties. He says you're his True Mate and you smell nice. He drives you around in a fancy car, gives you nice things and takes you to expensive places. He promises to marry you or mate you, but not right away...until sometime. Am I guessing right?"
He frowned. Yes, that was somehow true, and he knew what the other Omega meant, and if it was another Alpha, Angelo would probably be right, too. But the other Omega didn't know all the details and didn't know who Castiel really was and how wrong he was in his judgment. However, Angelo interpreted his silence as agreement and said with another chuckle:
"He's not coming back for you, amigo. He's probably already found another Omega to play with, maybe a younger model, and he's glad to be rid of you."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he retorted, getting to his feet.
He didn't want to talk to the Omega anymore, he pissed him off just because he was an Omega, and hearing the things he said about Castiel that Dean had thought were true a week ago... well, hell, hearing them now made him think they might be true. That little worm of worry kept gnawing at him, but he pushed it into a corner and decided to do something useful; see if he could get out the window.
He looked out into the side garden. The wall of the house next door was almost within reach. He could see every crack in the peeling plaster. But it was too far to jump over, and there was nothing to hold on to but the bare wall. He looked right and left. To the right there was nothing, but to the left there was a lightning rod stretched across the plaster. It might be possible to climb it if he got close enough.
He wanted to lean out to get a better look, but when he grabbed the window and tried to open it, he couldn't. A quick inspection of the frames revealed that they had not only been hammered in with large nails, but also repainted several times. The window was literally glued to the frame. It might be possible to open it with a crowbar after pulling out the studs.
He didn't have to look too hard to see that the window above Angel's bed was in the same condition.
The only way out was the door. That might not be so bad. Granted, there were several locks on the front door, but Dean was good at picking locks and if he had a little time - he would have it tonight - he could pick it. The only problem was Angelo, who might turn him in.
"Vain effort. No window in this house can be opened," the other Omega said from the bed.
Dean turned to answer him when the door to their room opened and Alpha Evans stood inside.
Angelo didn't waste a second, sliding off the bed and onto the floor, kneeling down with his head bowed and his hands behind his back.
What the fuck...?!
If the knotty fucker thought he'd ever get on his knees before him, he was sorely mistaken. Dean would never willingly kneel before an Alpha. Never ever! He was not a crawling animal! And he made it clear with his attitude and the way he bared his teeth.
The Alpha didn't take his eyes off him and slowly entered the room. He walked over to Angel and dug his fingers into his hair.
"Good Omega. He always kneels when his Alpha enters the room. He knows his place," he praised the kneeling Omega, grabbing the back of his head and pressing his cheek against his thigh. "Now it's time to teach you."
"Fuck you!" Dean spat. "I'll never kneel before you, Knotty!"
Despite his scolding and defiance of Knot, he did not become angry or bitter at his scent; on the contrary, his face widened into a hideous grin that sent shivers down Dean's spine for who knew why, and his Omega urged him to show submission. This, despite the fact that up until now she had made him resist letting this Alpha make puppies out of him.
"KNEEL!"
He had never heard such power in an Alpha's voice. Not his father's or Bobby's, not even Castiel's, not even when he was really pissed off. He felt as if every single note had penetrated his body, found his inner Omega, pulled it to the surface, spread it through his chest and legs and arms, and crammed it into the forefront of his brain. While Dean himself, his thoughts, his anger, his unwillingness to submit were pushed to the back of his mind and all that remained were the pure Omega instincts that said one thing; submit.
The pain that shot from around him as they hit the bare ground was the first thing he noticed. Only then did he realize that he had fallen into a crouch like some trained Omega toy. What the hell was that? ran through his mind, but he couldn't focus on the thought because he felt strangely disconnected from most of his mind and body. But vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, a single answer to his unspoken question flashed through. The voice of the Alpha. The fucker was controlling the Alpha's voice. How? How the fuck?! It existed, everyone knew it existed, but no one had ever experienced it because it was like a fucking unicorn. And it was probably illegal. How could someone like that disgusting Knot do it? Dean thought... he thought only really strong Alphas could do it, someone like his Alpha, not stunted Knots who proved how big their dicks were by humiliating Omegas.
"That's a good Omega," Knot purred mockingly, walking over to Dean and grabbing the back of his head.
At that moment, a wave of disgust washed over him. This was not his Alpha! He didn't want to be touched like that and he wasn't going to take it, so he resisted. He did what he always did. He pushed his Omega back... no, he tried to push her back, but he was met with a resistance that first confused and then terrified him. He couldn't resist! That didn't happen to him. It never had. He'd managed to resist Castiel, too, though it was damn hard and he doubted he could do it permanently. Submission to his Alpha had been... desirable and pleasurable. Only now did he realize that he actually wanted to submit to his Alpha, to his father, to Bobby. And this, this was the first time in his life that he had been forced into submission.
Panic rose from the icy self that his stomach had become, and with growing horror he realized that there was nothing he could do to confront his Alpha who was holding the back of his head and forcing him to bow. He was trapped in his own body, which now belonged to a strange, hated Alpha, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Let's go," the Alpha ordered, still in a commanding tone, but not with this incredible force, and he grabbed the back of Dean's head to force him up.
The pain that shot from the hypersensitive flesh of his neck was a stab to the insensitive flesh that was only his brain. It was like the proverbial fall in a dream that wakes you up. In the haze of numbness that lay over his brain, the pain made the first crack, growing as Alpha dragged him down the hallway to the next door. As he was thrown from the door onto the tiles, the numbness in his brain dissipated and Dean realized with a feeling of infinite joy that he had his body back. He didn't think about what to do with his regained control, all he could think about was that he had to get away.
An angry growl escaped his lips and before he could catch himself, he was on his feet and charging the Alpha. He realized what an amateurish mistake it was as he moved. He should have kept it to himself that he had broken the Alpha's hold on his body and attacked at a more opportune moment. When he was free to move. That way, while the Alpha was surprised by the sudden attack, he was still the Alpha. Stronger and faster than Dean, he reacted with typical Alpha agility.
He grabbed the attacking Dean by the throat, growled, bared his fangs to full size, his eyes filled with red, and then pushed Dean against the nearest wall. And there was nothing Dean could do about it. The thick fingers encircling his neck robbed him of much needed air, and the force with which the Alpha was pushing him was too great for him to do more than stumble backwards, desperately digging his fingers into the sleeve of the turtleneck the Alpha was wearing.
His back hit the wall. It fucking hurt. His neck felt like it was in a vice, and he began to see black shards at the edges of his vision as his brain ran out of oxygen. Another moment and he would lose consciousness.
As if realizing this, Alpha let go of him. Dean gasped desperately, too disoriented to do anything more, and before he could even move, he found himself facing the wall, his head against the wall, a strong hand on the back of his head again, pressing his face into the tiles of the wall.
A large body pressed against his back, fingers digging into his side, and Alpha buried his nose in his throat. A long, deep breath that turned into a growl and sniff made Dean's heart race in panic. Alpha had already known he was close to heat, now even he must have felt it through all the blockers Dean had sprayed on himself. And if he had been able to control himself until now, he wouldn't be able to now. He had no reason to. Dean was in his power. He could do whatever he wanted with him, and he would. He would throw Dean to the ground and stuff his cock and knot up his ass.
He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.
He knew he had to fight and he would. He would fight all the time, biting, kicking and scratching. He would break the bastard's jaw and nose, kick him in the crotch, do anything he could. He'll fight if it costs him his fucking life. He'll do it, but in a minute. A few seconds of regret for his own stupidity and for the fucking circus that was his life.
A body pressed against him from behind, the clear bulge of a hard cock against his ass. That woke him up. He opened his eyes, turned his head as far as the hand on the back of his head would allow, bared his teeth and growled. And into that growl he put all the anger that came from fear.
"Such a small wet bitch," the Alpha growled into his ear, licking his neck to Dean's disgust. "And angry. There's a strength in you I've never seen before, even when you're a little ugly, you know?" the Alpha purred further into his ear, and Dean just growled angrily, because that was all he could do at the moment. "I would love to have an Alpha puppy with you. He would be strong," he said to Dean's dismay, moving his hand from his side to his stomach. "But first you must learn to be a proper, obedient bitch before I fill you with a puppy. And your first lesson begins now."
He had expected him to pull down his pants and shove his cock up his ass, so he was disoriented when the Alpha suddenly let go and slammed him to the ground. He fell belly first onto the cold floor, his hands saving his face at the last moment. In the next instant, the Alpha grabbed his hair and shoved his head into the toilet bowl with nothing more than a heartfelt growl.
Dean still had the presence of mind to take a deep breath and close his eyes before his face was submerged in water that smelled unpleasantly of detergent.
His head was forced deep under the water. Even with his eyes closed, they began to burn as the chemicals penetrated them. His nose also burned and filled with foam, and his ears were waterlogged from being full of water. He pressed his lips together to at least keep the cleaner out of his mouth, but he couldn't keep his mouth closed as the water swirled around him. The smell of the chemical filled his mouth. It was disgusting. It burned his throat. And the thought of the shit and piss that had gone through the toilet and was now in his mouth made his stomach turn. He realized with horror that he not only couldn't hold his breath anymore, he couldn't even stop the vomit from rising up his throat and rushing out of his mouth.
At that moment, he thought this was how he was going to die. He was going to drown in a toilet bowl full of his own vomit and there was nothing he could do about it. An ignominious end to his very short life. He won't see Sammy at his graduation. He won't see his dad. He won't hug and kiss Case. He won't have the puppy he never really wanted, but now that he felt like these were his last seconds, he figured it wouldn't be so bad. Family and all. With his Alpha... Cas... he'd never told him how much he loved him...
What the hell are you doing, Winchester?! You sniveling princess! Don't die with your head in the toilet. Fight!" his inner voice admonished him, sounding like a mixture of his father's and Bobby's voices that was impossible not to hear. He grabbed the toilet bowl and struggled with all the strength in the hand that held him under the slowly calming water. He'd like to think that his defiance saved his life, but he suspected that Alpha just got tired of drowning him in shit, because he brutally grabbed a handful of Dean's hair, pulled his head out of the porcelain bowl, and threw him toward the tub.
He slammed into it with his shoulder and hip, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head. Pain shot through the entire right side of his body, his eyes and nose burned, and his ears kept buzzing, but he paid no attention to any of it. He was too busy breathing. His chest hurt, and as he gasped for air, he swallowed more of the disgusting, chemical-smelling and tasting water, which made his stomach heave again. He didn't vomit, but only because the Alpha leaned over him and Dean growled and gritted his teeth in an instinctive attempt to defend himself.
The Alpha barely noticed. He yanked his right arm from Dean's shoulder and before Dean could realize what was about to happen, he jammed a needle into his bicep. The pinch and subsequent pressure under his skin as some fluid leaked out was strangely more pronounced than any pain he was currently feeling. He swung his fist furiously at Alpha, but missed, of course. He could barely see with his burning, tear-filled eyes.
Alpha responded to the attack by knocking him to the ground.
Dean crumpled ignominiously on the wet ground. He didn't give up though, he at least got up on his hands and tried to crawl away, but he didn't get very far. Alpha grabbed his hair again and pulled him up. At that moment, Dean expected to be pushed headfirst into the toilet again, but instead, Alpha ripped something off his neck and then pushed him back to the floor. It took him a moment to realize that he had ripped the gold cross from his neck.
"Take a shower and get dressed. You've got fifteen minutes," the Alpha ordered before turning around and a moment later the door slammed shut behind him and the lock clicked.
Dean lay on the floor for several long seconds before he was able to get up and sit back down, his back against the tub. His chest was on fire, his eyes were burning and watering, his mouth smelled of chemicals and vomit, and he was pretty sure he had vomit on his face and in his hair. His nose was full of chemical-smelling water and it stung, but vaguely over it was the smell of rotting grapefruit and desperate Omega that must have come from him. He felt numb. And angry and scared and lonely all at the same time. All the emotions swirled around in his head, and at the same time he felt another rush of heat in his stomach. Even after all this, his damned preheat didn't stop.
He grabbed the edge of the tub and slowly pulled himself to his feet.
He didn't even try the door, he could clearly hear Alpha lock it behind him. Instead, he staggered over to the sink and rinsed his mouth and eyes as best he could. It occurred to him that he probably looked terrible now, but he had no chance to see for himself since there was no mirror, of course. Only a fool would have given the prisoner a potentially lethal weapon. But he could smell the cleaner and his clothes were wet. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn't stay like this and had to wash it off. His skin was starting to burn and itch, and he didn't want to imagine what the disinfectant would do to his eyes if he didn't wash it off with running water.
He looked around slowly and saw a shelf with the same gray and white clothes everyone else had. He stared at the pile for a moment before forcing himself to move and take off his wet, smelly clothes. Yeah, he realized it was a bad idea to be naked in the same house as that fucker, but he figured if he wanted to stick his dick up his ass, he would have done it a long time ago. Hopefully he'd have at least a few minutes of peace to wash off all the chemicals.
He climbed into the tub, pulled the curtain behind him, not because he didn't want to spill water on the already wet floor, but because it gave a false sense of security, and turned both faucets on full. Fuck the Knot's water bill. The water that splashed into his face wasn't even lukewarm. It was cold as ice, and his teeth immediately ground under the stream. He wasn't stupid. He knew this wasn't normal. Someone must have turned off either the boiler or the hot water supply to this bathroom. He guessed it was the latter, because the Alpha fucker certainly wouldn't make himself uncomfortable by bathing in cold water. This was just another fucking way to torture the Omegas trapped in this house.
But he wasn't going to break Dean, especially not with cold water.
Gritting his teeth, he lowered his face to the stream to wash the cleanser from his eyes, while his hand moved to his left shoulder, where he could still feel the ghostly presence of the needle. What the hell had he been stuck with? Some kind of drug? It didn't look like it. He didn't feel any different, he wasn't hallucinating, he wasn't sick, and he would have felt the effects by now if it was some kind of drug. He guessed that if he ever found out, it would be when it affected him.
He put his hands on the wall and leaned forward. The water hit his neck, it was icy and stinging, but somehow it was soothing. It washed away the nasty touch of the Alpha that wasn't Castiel and cooled the irritated flesh. And he watched the water flow into the drain and knew...knew he had to leave, but he wasn't sure he could do it tonight.
°°0°°
The Alpha fucker came back right on time, and when he entered he was not pleased that Dean hadn't dropped to his knees like a 'proper' Omega should, but oddly enough he didn't use the Alpha voice trick again. Dean was infinitely glad he hadn't, and actually felt a kind of relief when the Knot just grabbed him by the back of the head and dragged him out of the bathroom. He could handle the physical violence. Pain was fine. Pain only bothered the body and could be forgotten, but to lose control of his own body and mind? That was the scariest thing he'd ever experienced. But at least the effect didn't seem to be permanent, because all the numbness the Alpha's voice had caused was gone before the knot had dragged him to the bathroom. That meant it could be fought. Dean believed it was possible, which was why he'd been relatively cooperative when the Alpha had pushed him into the room and demanded that he hand over his wallet, phone, and jewelry. He could do without all that. He didn't need them to get out of here. Though the loss of Castiel's cross made him sad.
And he hadn't protested or tried to fight his way past the Alpha blocking his door. He had to be patient and wait for the right opportunity to escape. It might not be tonight, it might not be the next night, but an opportunity would come. And when it came, he would surprise the knot by being able to resist his Alpha's tricks.
He stood motionless in the middle of the room, watching the Alpha with challenging eyes until he stepped out into the hallway and locked the door behind him. He waited a moment, ears straining to hear the knot coming down the stairs, and then went to work.
His head was relatively clear. The cold shower had helped, and at least for a while it had suppressed the heat coursing beneath his skin, allowing him to think better.
He wasn't surprised that he hadn't found the rest of his things here, but honestly, he didn't need them. He didn't have any real weapons in his bag anyway, except maybe a pen, but he wasn't fucking John Wick to stab someone in the neck with a pen. And he wasn't planning on stabbing anyone in the neck anyway. He just wanted to get away from this shit, so he moved over to Angel's bed and checked the other window to see how the fortress was doing. He'd seen it nailed shut and boarded up before, too, but maybe someone hadn't done such a good job of boarding it up.
He ran his fingers over all the joints, but all he found was one nail that stuck out a little more than the others. He grabbed it between his fingers and started wiggling and pulling. He knew it would be a long job, but he was determined. One nail could do a lot. It could be a weapon, they could break some of the older locks, he could scratch the paint on the windows... the nail was important.
He worked hard at it, pulling it out bit by bit as he listened to the sounds in the house. There weren't many, no voices talking to each other, but he could hear footsteps. He couldn't tell for sure how many, but the smell combined with the footsteps he heard gave him a little idea. There were maybe five or six Omegas with him. So four or five allies or enemies, he didn't know yet, but he wasn't going to trust anyone.
"Fuck!" He cursed as his hand went limp when the nail finally broke free and he cut his fingers on the edge.
With a hiss, he shoved the bleeding wound into his mouth, climbed off the bed, and dropped to his knees. The nail fell to the floor, and the only way to get to it was to crawl under Angel's bed. When he lowered himself onto his stomach, it was like lying on a deflated ball. All his insides clenched in a spasm that was familiar, but somehow stronger. More uncomfortable than the usual cramps of preheat and heat. It was more like the cramps he used to get on the first day of Aunt Floe's visit.
He reached through the dust under the bed and felt for the nail, pulling it out with a vicarious laugh. It was old and rusty and dirty, but it was his and he could defend himself with it.
He clutched it in his palm and was about to stand up when another spasm gripped his insides. This one was much, much worse than the previous one. He had to breathe it out through bared teeth to keep from drawing attention to himself with a pitiful whimper. What the hell happened to him? It didn't look like his heat. It had to be... it had to be the fucking injection.
He changed his mind. He had to get out of here now. With the nail, he could have unlocked the door to the room.
He pulled himself up by the arms of Angel's bed and took a small step toward the door when another wrenching pain literally dug its claws into his lap. He'd never experienced anything like it before, but who knew why his Omega had given him the idea that this must be what it felt like to have a puppy ripped from your body. Which was completely stupid, of course. He couldn't be pregnant or anything, but he felt like everything inside him was being violently moved.
He staggered backwards and luckily landed on his own bed. It saved him from a painful fall to the floor, but not from another wave of cramps and chills running through his body. There was no way he could get up in this state, let alone make a discreet escape. All he could do was curl up into a ball, press his fists deep into his stomach, and grit his teeth to keep from screaming out loud.
He thought he would die by drowning in the toilet, but maybe he would die by having his own uterus spew out through his belly button into the world. Or his intestines would get tangled.
He closed his eyes tightly and they began to burn again, this time with tears.
He was scared, he was fucking scared. And he wanted his puppy. And his Alpha. Where was he? Where had he been for so fucking long?!
"Cas..." he gasped into the empty room.
Notes:
How does the Alpha voice work in this world?
All Alphas generate subliminal frequencies in the sounds they make (growling, purring, talking) that have an unconscious effect on the brains of Omegas and Betas, as well as less dominant Alphas. These are called "Alpha frequencies" and are one of the three main pillars that determine the strength of dominance. The stronger these frequencies are, the more dominant the Alpha. The other two pillars of dominance are scent and behavior. Physical appearance is also important, but is not the determining factor, and therefore an Alpha who does not fit the physical ideal for Alphas can be dominant and powerful. Example. Castiel has strong Alpha frequencies, strong scent, dominant behavior, and ideal physical appearance (tall, fit). Gabriel has strong frequencies, strong scent, and dominant demeanor, but not ideal physical appearance, yet he is a dominant Alpha.
The Alpha voice in this world is what is called when the Alpha frequencies become so strong that they no longer operate only subconsciously, but can cause Omegas, most Betas, and some Alphas to carry out specific commands. The Alpha voice is not an innate ability, although it can occur spontaneously in emotionally stressful situations. The Alpha voice is something the Alpha must learn to control.
Deliberate use of the Alpha voice has been illegal in the U.S. since 89 under penalty of up to fifteen years in prison. In Russia, the use of the Alpha voice is illegal if it is used to commit a crime, and the commission of a crime - abuse - includes its excessive use against a partner or offspring.
There are few Alphas in either country who are currently able to use the Alpha voice. In the U.S. it is officially less than two percent of the Alpha population (in reality it is just under five percent), and in Russia it is about ten percent. In both countries, the disappearance of the ability to use the Alpha voice is also due to the introduction of restrictive laws, but it is also a process that is primarily related to the technological revolution and the general evolution of society. As late as 1900, the percentage of Alphas able to use the Alpha voice was high, around 80%; fifty years later, it was not even 40% of Alphas. This was due to the spread of the telegraph, and then the telephone (at first, telephones couldn't carry all frequencies), and later email, and also a change in attitudes about the equality of the secondary genders - younger generations of Alphas began to think that it was wrong to force Omegas and Betas to do something they didn't want to do. Communism, which was not in favor of Alpha domination, then had a role to play in Russia.
Chapter 50
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Diana wrinkled her nose. Something smelled incredible. Frowning, she unscrewed the bottle of milk and sniffed it. No, the smell wasn't coming from here, the milk smelled fresh and bottle was almost full, and it didn't stay full long at the station. That meant someone had left their forgotten lunch in the back of the fridge again.
With a sigh, she put the bottle down on the kitchen counter, went back to the fridge and started rearranging the items inside. She didn't have to look very long before her hand landed on a softened something wrapped in a plastic bag and pushed all the way to the back behind all the other boxes and bags. She pulled it out and grinned in disgust. She was holding what had originally been a beautiful and stuffed ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato and pickles sandwich, carefully and lovingly wrapped in a bag with a sticker full of hearts and the name...
"Oh, come on, Bruce. Again?!" She complained aloud, even though she was alone in the kitchen, and went to throw the sandwich in the garbage can.
On her way back to her coffee cup, she wondered how little Bruce appreciated her Omega husband, who made homemade snacks and lunches for him every day, and stopped by work at least once a week to take them out to eat. And they'd been married ten years. He was so lucky. He wasn't like other detectives whose marriages usually fell apart after five or six years because their partners couldn't stand the erratic hours and the effects that working, especially in their department, had on police officers.
Suddenly, two strong arms grabbed her around the waist and Alpha growled in her ear.
She was so startled that she almost knocked the open bottle of milk off the counter.
"Peter!" Her voice was muffled; she quickly realized who it was, though Beta recognized Peter's strong Alpha scent, full of deep notes of cranberry jam with a hint of tar that intensified when Peter was stressed. "What are you doing?" She asked, looking away from the nose running down her throat. "Someone might come and see us..."
Relationships weren't forbidden in the same department, but they had to report in, and then she and Peter definitely wouldn't be able to work together.
Peter drew the vibrating breast he had pressed against Diana's back into a deep growl and squeezed it in a possessive grip. "I can't get enough of your scent. I want to bathe in it."
"And then the captain would smell me on you," he pointed out, and this time she made a much stronger attempt to wriggle out of his embrace.
Peter sighed and let her go.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small jewelry box. It was black leather, with a star painted in gold on the lid, but no name of a jewelry store. "I had it made especially for you."
Diana took the box from him and opened it. A smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth. On a purple velvet cushion lay a silver pendant the likes of which she'd never seen before. It looked a bit like a basket of flowers. She took it out of the box and ran her thumb over the smooth metal a few times, finally letting the chain dangle between her fingers so she could hold the pendant up to the light and admire the way it sparkled.
"It's beautiful," she said, smiling at her Alpha. "Would you put it on for me..."
Pater responded to her request with a contented purr, and a hint of something sweet that always reminded her of maple syrup permeated his scent, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She had a keen sense of smell on Beta, which helped her in her work, but it still fell short of the power of an Alpha or Omega's sense of smell. But she was glad for what little she had.
The Alpha took the pendant from her hand and indicated with a movement of his eyebrows that he wanted her to turn around. So she turned her back to him and brushed her hair away from her neck, giving him good access to the clasp. The pendant felt cold against her skin, but the warm kiss Peter planted on her bare neck just above the clasp he had just fastened made up for the sensation perfectly. With a sigh, she leaned back against his broad chest.
He held her for only a moment, his chin resting on her head, before pulling away a little.
"Show yourself. I want to see what you look like."
She gently adjusted the pendant so that it sat nicely in the groove between her collarbones before turning to face him, then showed herself to Alpha. He looked pleased, and another sweet wave swept through his scent, whereupon he placed his hand on her cheek to lift her face closer to his and kissed her on the lips with a murmured "come with me". She melted under his touch like ice in the sun and was about to throw her arms around his neck when she heard a voice:
"Ballard," Ari addressed her, who had just entered the kitchenette and thankfully bent over the iPad she was carrying. It was the only thing that gave her and Peter time to quickly step away from each other before Ari raised her head. "Ah... Alpha Sheridan. That'll come in handy. We have a new case I hope you two can take. Mickey and I have twelve open files on our desk and we really couldn't handle another one."
"Sure. We'll take it," Peter agreed immediately and took a step forward, his hand outstretched for the iPad Ari had brought. "What's this case about?"
The other Beta handed the tablet to Alpha.
"Two underage brothers, the older one a sixteen year old Omega and the younger one a twelve year old Alpha. It's all about the Omega," Ari began a quick summary as Diana crouched closer to Peter and looked over his shoulder at the folder he had just opened on the screen. "His name is Dan..."
"Dean," she corrected her, because the screen was currently showing a photo from a school folder that showed a boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen who honestly didn't look much like an Omega at first glance. He had prominent cheekbones and chin, short sandy hair in an almost military cut but combed with gel into a messy style, large green eyes, light freckles on his nose and cheeks, and prominent lips curled into a cheeky grin that revealed Omega's small sharp fangs.
"Right... yeah, Dean," Ari corrected herself. "See how much we have? I can't even remember his name," she sighed before picking up where she left off. "Their father probably left them a few weeks ago, neither of them have said anything more specific yet. Anyway, the Omega seems to have fallen into the clutches of an older Alpha. Both boys were living in an apartment he owns, and Omega has signs of a beating and Alpha has a mark on his shoulder."
"Sexual abuse?" Diana asked, though she suspected it was pointless. Of course Omega had been sexually abused. It always was in cases like this.
"He was examined yesterday and the doctor gave a report that he hadn't had penetrative intercourse in the last three days, but that doesn't mean anything, as you know."
She knew that all too well. There were so many different ways that Omega could be abused that wouldn't leave a mark, even as long as penetrative intercourse. And even after that, the marks - the little abrasions and bruises in his rectum - could be found three or four days after the last intercourse at the most. It was easier with sperm. Beta cum usually lasted five to seven days, Alpha even ten days. But that didn't matter if the attacker used a condom. After four days there was nothing left. No biological traces in or on the body, no scent marks, nothing conclusive. The only hope in this case was the Alpha mark on the shoulder, which could have been teeth marks.
"May I..." she moaned, gently gripping the edge of the tablet to indicate she wanted to take it; Peter handed it to her.
She quickly opened the folder of photographs and began to look through them. There was a more recent picture of Omega, in which he obviously looked a little older than the one in the school records. He was tall and muscular, making him look more like a Beta boy or even a slimmer Alpha of the same age. His hair was slightly darker, but still the same cut and style, his face rounder and his expression more somber. She flipped to the next photos, looking at the faded marks Dean had on his stomach, side and back - the last one was definitely a kick. After years in the department, she could tell for sure. The location and shape were typical. The others were less common, but after studying them for a moment, she realized what they were from: something heavy hanging from a rope or perhaps a chain. A bike lock or something heavy stuffed in a sock.
Finally, she found the image she was looking for. Omega's arm, stained with the old Alpha brand. She frowned. She'd expected the typical teeth marks, including more saturated bruises where the retracted fangs had pressed against the skin, but this mark was different. It had faded with age, but not to the point of losing its fang marks. There were none here. Nor were there any fang-less teeth marks (she'd come across a case in her career of a serial rapist, an Alpha, who'd deliberately had his fangs removed and two sets of replacements made; Alpha fangs and Beta teeth, just so he could bite his victims and not leave the typical Alpha teeth marks). The mark looked like a regular hickey...except for one place where there was a more pronounced impression in the bruising. Slight, but it was there.
She tapped into photo editing, playing with hues and saturation until what she was looking for came to the surface.
There were teeth marks, but not sharp edges, but flat, leading edges. She could count every tooth, including the fully extended right canine, which was odd because the sharp end suggested there was a second canine on the other side - so Alpha hadn't been missing a canine or had a deformity where a normal beta tooth would have developed in place of a canine - but it was hidden in the gum. It was not possible for Alpha to have deliberately removed only one fang, but it was possible for him to have paralyzed the dental muscles around a fang, or to have had a replacement and chosen a full-sized fang.
A detail, actual evidence linking the attacker to the victim, but... unfortunately, like scent markings, these markings weren't criminal in themselves if done with consent, and Dean, at his age, could consent to both scent markings and Alpha markings and it wasn't considered sexual abuse. The only option was for Omega to talk about his abuse. His testimony was crucial.
"Have you found anything?" asked Peter.
She nodded and handed him the iPad with the doctored photo before turning to Ari.
"Where is he now?"
"It's in a file... I think he's in the Omega Shelter called Sun Hill."
"I've heard about it. It was in the news recently. Isn't it a shelter for troubled Omegas and those with criminal records?" She wondered aloud. It didn't seem likely to her that the Department of Children and Youth Services would place an Omega suspected of physical and sexual abuse in a home where troubled Omegas were usually placed.
"It's possible," Ari shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised. His school records are in the file, and from what I've skimmed, he's a troubled kid. Probably the result of neglect and possibly physical or sexual abuse by his father. It's going to be hard to get a statement from him about anything that happened to him. Whether about his father or about Alpha abusing him after him."
"Diana is good at this. She can talk him out of it," Peter said confidently, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll do my best," she replied, not so confidently; she never wanted to assume in advance that victims would cooperate to the prosecutor's satisfaction, because they usually didn't. The trauma managed to cloud the memory, and shame and fear washed over the mouth.
"We'll look at the file and interview him this afternoon," Peter decided.
"Great. I'll tell the captain for you," Ari replied happily and headed off, but before she went through the door to the kitchenette she stopped and leaned her hand against the door frame. "Nice pendant," she said, touching her neck where Diana wore Peter's new pendant.
Her heart skipped a beat and she thought that maybe Ari had seen more than she'd let on at first. But no... that hadn't happened. Ari looked calm, just a little curious and didn't seem to know anything. So Diana forced a smile and unconsciously touched the pendant.
"Thank you. It's new," she remarked, in case Ari wondered if she hadn't seen it on her before.
"Really nice and original. I've never seen anything like it," she said, then frowned a little. "You weren't wearing it this morning, I think..."
"Yes. Yes, I didn't..." She tried to come up with an excuse quickly. "It's got some edges catching on my scarf. I took it off on the way here and only remembered now."
"I see." Ari smiled, obviously pleased with the answer. "Well, make sure you don't lose it," she added before disappearing, leaving only a bit of tense silence behind.
That didn't last long, though, as she and Peter exchanged glances, and in an instant they both laughed, both nervous and relieved.
"That was close," Alpha commented.
"Yes, it was..." she nodded, the smile still on her face, but even that slowly faded as her eyes fell on the tablet Peter was holding. "Now, let's take a look at the file."
"Good idea. Wait for me at our place. I'll make some tea," Alpha said, handing her the iPad.
Diana nodded, took the tablet from him and sat down at her desk, which was right next to Peter's.
°°0°°
Someone touched his shoulder.
The training and the instinct to defend himself kicked in before his brain did. He grabbed the wrist of the hand resting on his shoulder and pulled his attacker to the ground. In an instant, he was on top of him, his thighs trapping his hands along his body, his left forearm pressed against his neck and his right fist swinging, the nail in it protruding between his middle and ring fingers. He bared his fangs belligerently... and stopped.
Angel's bulging eyes glared at him from the floor, and he could tell by the way the other Omega's chest rose sharply under Dean's arm and the tang of acid in the faint lilac scent that he was truly afraid.
He let go of his hand, easing the pressure on Angel's throat and offering no resistance as the other Omega reached out and pushed, trying to get him off. Dean fell on his ass, so close to the bed that the pellet slammed into his back. It hurt a little, but it wasn't too bad. Maybe he didn't even have any bruises from last night's treatment. It was already morning, wasn't it? He thought, looking out of the window at the patch of gray sky. It wasn't evening, it was day, but was it the same day he'd come here or the next? Somehow he couldn't figure out if it had been night or not. His memories were filled with the pain churning inside him and the way he pressed himself against the cold wall until he fell asleep. And in this moment... surprisingly... all the pain was gone. All he felt was a familiar numbness, much like the one he had after every heat. His dad would leave him home because of it, or pay for an extra day at the motel just so Dean could roll around in bed, watch Netflix, and eat ice cream. He was damn glad of that, not only because he was tired and numb, but also because his cock was sensitive and his ass hurt so much that he couldn't sit comfortably. He just wasn't supposed to be this numb. His heat wasn't coming at all, let alone going through it. He was sure of that. Well, almost sure. The injection yesterday... there were drugs that induced heat in Omegas even off-cycle, and such heat was so strong that Omegas lost their memory. Or so he had heard. Could that have happened?
Could the knotted fucker have given him a drug that triggered his heat prematurely and then...? A cold wave of fear ran down his back and his stomach tightened with such force that he thought for a moment he was going to throw up.
His hand automatically shot up to his stomach.
Fuck! Fuck... if he gave him some shit like that and then... There was practically no chance that there wasn't a puppy of that fucking Knot growing in his stomach right now, and just the thought of it was terrifying and disgusting at the same time.
He pressed his hand tighter into his stomach and closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to recall the memories of what had happened since he'd felt the first pangs on the inside of his eyelids. If that disgusting bastard had fucked him and impregnated him, he wanted to know. He had to know so that... so that he could tell his Alpha and then watch his Alpha cut off the poor Knot stunted knot and balls and then rip him into tiny pieces.
"You really are a damn psycho freak," Angelo interrupted his fantasies.
Dean opened his eyes sharply, only now realizing that he was smiling, so he frowned instead.
"How long have I been here?"
"You don't remember anything?" the other Omega asked in return; Dean glared at him. "Of course I don't. He gave you a suppre a few hours before the heat. That can mess with your head quite a bit. You've been here since yesterday."
Yesterday? So it was only one night, he realized with a sigh of relief that it was only temporary. For one thing, there was a hell of a lot to do in one night, and even if a puppy was out of the question, he could still get fucked by Knot when he wasn't conscious. He had to check... well, not exactly check, but...
He leaned back against the bed and pulled it out, checking for any minor pain or discomfort. His ass seemed fine, no pain or discomfort. There was no pain anywhere that could have been a bite. And when he sucked in the scent, all he could smell was Angel and his own suddenly faint scent, but no blood, and the Alpha scent he could smell was just the general, omnipresent one. Nothing specific. Nothing to indicate that he had the scent directly on him...
The only thing he could feel was an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He still felt like everything inside was a little swollen and sensitive, but it was more like after the heat than before. So a familiar feeling that he knew would pass in a day or two and then, about five days a week later, the cramps and the menses would come.
It seemed like he had gone through the heat in one night and now it was just over. It was weird. I'm sure it was the shit he gave him. What did Angelo say? Oh, suppre. That means suppressors. So that's what he gave him? Heat suppressants. That didn't make sense. Knots loved Omegas in heat. Their smell and how Omegas were needed and allowed at that time, regardless of whether they actually wanted the Alpha or not. Why would he give him something that would take away the experience of having Dean under him and not having to fight him because he wouldn't have the strength and energy to resist anyway.
"Why did he give me that shit?" he asked, as if the other Omega might have an answer.
And strangely enough, he did.
"We all get injections once a month. He wants to enjoy and not worry about the consequences," Angelo replied, indirectly confirming what Dean already knew, that the fucker had made bed toys out of the Omegas here. "If you want to change into clean clothes, there's more in the closet," he nodded his head towards the small closet at the foot of Dean's bed. "But make it quick, Alpha will be here in a minute with the collars."
Collars? Fuck that! He wasn't a dog that needed a collar. And now that his preheat was over and his head was clear, he could fight more effectively.
He was stumped.
Maybe it had been a bad idea to fight. If Knot thought he'd tamed him a bit yesterday, he'd have a lot more chances to get out of here. He would be a docile, calm, submissive Omega. He'll sail through today without a hitch and hopefully get a chance to map the terrain and find suitable escape routes.
Yeah, that was the right plan. He heard footsteps on the floor and then the clicking of locks, doors opening and voices. He listened as Alpha made his way around the opposite trio of rooms and then made his way to theirs. Dean wasn't sure if there was another room on their side, but one of them was definitely a bathroom.
So he wasn't surprised when the footsteps went straight to their room. The key rattled in the lock and Angelo immediately, without hesitation, dropped to the floor, head bowed in a submissive position, hands behind his back. Just like yesterday. But Dean remained seated, because the idea of willingly kneeling was like a bitter pill dissolving on his tongue. He knew he should do it to make himself look like an obedient Omega, and truthfully, his inner Omega was urging him to do it more than ever. She whispered that he should submit to the Alpha who knew how to use the fucking Alpha voice and make him kneel, but it wasn't such a strong urge that he couldn't resist.
The door opened.
Dean clenched his jaw.
The fucker really had collars on him. One about as wide as his Omega teacher, so wide and easy to see, also because of the pink color and the gold buckle and leash loop, but not really uncomfortable. And the other one, really wide, made of hard, undyed leather, with a big leash eye and a clasp that wasn't really a buckle at all, but two rings with a damned lock hanging from them. He didn't have to think too hard to guess that the pink one wasn't for him.
The Alpha fixed him with a cold and irritated stare, his lips tightening into a thin line as the smell of rotting grapefruit began to waft into the small room. Nasty and more intense than yesterday. He must have been wearing blockers or something. Not that it mattered. Not even the smell of real anger would make him submit, not when it belonged to this Knotty, who was jerking his dick over abusing Omegas who couldn't resist him. But... he could manage to submit of his own free will. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
Everything in him was against it, but he did it. He overcame his inner struggle and slid down to the bare floor, his gaze still fixed on Alpha's eyes hidden behind his glasses. He inhaled and, with a gasp, lowered his head in a gesture of submission, his eyes fixed on the floor but his hands resting on his thighs. Putting them behind his back and giving him the opportunity to be handcuffed in a way that was almost impossible to get out of was too much to force.
Judging by the unpleasantly sweet smell, Dean's attitude pleased the Knot. He gritted his teeth. He didn't like to make this Alpha happy, his Omega rebelled against it because it wasn't his Alpha, but he remained calm and didn't raise his head. But a subtle glance to see what the Alpha was doing. He watched as he walked up to Angel, grabbed his chin and lifted his head. Then - brown collar on his arm - he unfastened the pink collar and placed it around the slender neck of the Omega, who didn't protest in the least. It didn't even change its subdued scent. How could he have let the damn collar be put on so calmly?
The Alpha adjusted the pink collar so that the clasp was on one side of Angel's neck and the leash ring on the other, raked through the overgrown hair on the back of Angel's neck, then turned to Dean.
He quickly lowered his gaze before the Alpha realized he'd been watching him the whole time, listening intently as the Alpha took two steps toward him, his shoes, ordinary sneakers, coming right into his field of vision. They weren't the fancy, expensive stuff Castiel wore, but they weren't the cheapest knockoffs from some street vendor either. This Knot wasn't doing too badly for the number of kids he had to take care of.
"Keep your head up," he was ordered.
He knew full well that this meant lifting his head, but he dutifully kept his eyes out of Alpha's face, so he did. Lifting his head, he focused his gaze somewhere vaguely in front of him and, taking as much care as possible not to let his anger and reluctance reflect too much on his scent, waited for the Alpha to pick the lock. It clicked in a way he knew it would. All it would take was twenty seconds and two pins or a piece of wire and he'd be free of the collar easily, which was a small relief and helped him not to growl as the hard leather wrapped around his neck. He hadn't even buckled the collar yet, and already he felt the need to stretch his neck painfully, or endure the uneven edge of the collar brushing the sensitive skin under his jaw where the scent glands oozed. And of course, the weight of the collar rested directly on his scent glands, still irritated from the preening. It was uncomfortable to say the least, almost painful.
The lock clicked.
The collar was in place, heavy and uncomfortable, its strong, leathery scent irritating Dean's nose and making it difficult to read Angel's already faint scent.
"Get up."
He certainly wouldn't have said he was grateful for the order, but he was glad to be able to stand and walk like a normal person. He kept his head down, though, as expected, and also let Angel go first so he knew what to do. For now, he was determined to be obedient to Omega and that meant avoiding mistakes out of ignorance.
The other Omegas were gathered at the stairs. They stood neatly in pairs.
All girls, not surprisingly. The first pair was the Omega from yesterday, the one who had opened up to them when Moseley had brought him here. Next to her was a black girl, maybe a year younger, with her hair pulled back in two short ponytails that came out behind her ears. Right behind her was a girl about ten years old, a puppy even younger than Sammy. She had light brown hair and was so skinny that Dean's Omega grunted in displeasure at the sight of her. Finally, a red-haired girl with a short braid and milky white skin was the only one to raise her eyes in Dean's direction. It was just a flash of light green, but there was a sparkle to it that no other Omega here had.
Alpha walked past the lined up Omegas and began to descend the stairs.
That seemed to be the only clue to follow him, as Angelo followed and Dean, of course, walked at his side while the other Omegas followed behind them.
Thanks to Angelo's guidance, he kept the 'right distance' all the way down, then a few steps down the hallway to the door under the stairs. The Alpha opened it.
Were they going to spend the whole day locked in the basement or what the hell? That would mean a door, a solid wooden one with a petal on the outside that would separate him from an escape route and that he wouldn't have much chance of getting through. Unless he could get it off its hinges, but that wouldn't be possible without help.
Unfortunately, he had no choice but to follow Angel through the door and down the wooden stairs into... surprisingly, it wasn't a basement or any other basement room he'd expected, but a short, well-lit and freshly painted hallway with several doors. One was from the kitchen. A large one, with a floor of really old tiles, beams on the ceiling, and some twenty year old cabinets, counters, and sinks, but with a modern fridge, coffee maker, and toaster. Nothing special, except for another door that looked like it came from some sort of food pantry - Bobby had one of those in his house - but for some reason it had a metal latch on the outside with a massive unlocked lock hanging from it. It couldn't have been used to keep anyone out, it would have been enough to just take it off. So why was it there? Dean wondered, his gaze fixed on the lock as the other Omegas went off in all directions. Everyone seemed to know what to do, except Dean, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, not far from the old table and chairs, not knowing what to do next.
"We have to make breakfast for Alpha and us, but that's easy, it's just hot porridge," came a voice to his right, and as he turned he met the gaze of the red-haired Omega who was the only one upstairs paying attention to him. "I'm Charlie, by the way. Charlie Bradbury. Welcome to our little Hunger Games."
"Dean... Winchester."
"You probably already know Angel, that's Penny over there," this Charlie continued, pointing at Omega from yesterday. "Savannah," she pointed at a slightly younger black girl who was scrambling eggs for an omelet, "and the only puppy here; Sybill. I appreciate that the parents were Harry Potter fans, but I think Hermione is a cooler character than Trelawney. I like Hermione the best. She's the smartest of them all, and she's an Omega. What about you?"
"What?" He looked at her in confusion.
"Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter?"
What? Did she ask him about Potter characters? What the hell...? He somehow didn't understand how she could be so cool and want to talk about old children's movies when she was dressed in a convict sweatsuit with a light brown collar around her neck. But there was something... well, probably encouraging or something. Dean tugged at his own collar, which rubbed his skin and pressed against his teeth as he spoke, and really thought about what kind of character he liked.
"Hmm... Potter's not really my thing. I like the old horror movies. But if I had to choose... Sirius Black, because he has a flying motorcycle."
"We should get to work. Angelo's already watching. We don't want Alpha's pet suing us," he said instead of answering, his voice lower than before, and took Dean under his elbow and led him to the counter.
It turned out that Charlie was in charge of food for the Omegas, and when she said it was easy earlier, she meant it literally. She poured water into a larger pot, poured in two pounds of oatmeal, and finally added four tablespoons of sugar. And that seemed to be breakfast for all the Omegas. Alpha, of course, got four scrambled eggs, a hefty pile of bacon and toast, plus freshly made coffee and a large pitcher of orange juice, while the Omegas seemed to have nothing to drink but plain water.
While they were making breakfast, Charlie revealed that they were 'homeschooling', which oddly enough meant that they had classes every morning from Monday through Friday. Dean was sure that this Alpha fucker was only 'educating' them because it was mandatory, because he didn't seem to be the type to think that Omegas deserved an education and a chance at a career.
After class, there was usually lunch - a word she usually emphasized, as if lunch wasn't the rule - and then they had to take care of the house. Not just cleaning all the rooms, but apparently painting the back porch and then the metal front gate was the order of the day. With the terrible weather, the cold, the rain, and the ever-present creeping dampness that was not only unsuitable for the job because you were freezing, but also because of the paint itself. What idiot would paint wood when it was wet and swollen with water? In the summer, when the rail dried, the paint would crack and peel. And that was probably the point. Then he could herd the local Omegas back into the unbearable heat to scrape off the cracked paint and repaint.
Breakfast for the Knot was arranged on a nice wooden tray, a wonder Angelo hadn't given him a vase of roses to go with it, and then the other Omega took it upstairs.
The bowls of porridge landed on a similar but less fancy tray for Charlie to take. It was obvious at a glance that she was having trouble with the stairs, so he took the tray from her and followed Angelo.
The second Omega boy headed for the dining room that Dean had seen the day before, but only now was he able to get a better look at it.
To the left, as well as across the hall from the door, were windows that looked out onto a small, gloomy garden that overlooked the front of the apartment buildings across the street and the side wall of the house next door. Not much to look at. On the wall to the right of the hallway was an old cupboard with a display case containing ugly little porcelain figurines of all kinds. And on the last wall was an old fireplace and a door to another room.
After Alphaa had received his food, which Angelo carefully and obligingly served right under his nose, with his head covered with glass, they were allowed to take their bowl of porridge and - big surprise - sit down at the table to eat like humans. If the porridge tasted slightly sweet and a glass of water was something that could be considered human food. Dean didn't think so. Sure, there were times when he had to give up his share so that Sammy could have enough, but that was because they didn't have any money or had to save it, but this Alpha fucker sure had enough money for a proper breakfast for everyone.
As for the Omegas, the meal was eaten in silence. They all kept their heads down and munched on the quickly cooling porridge. The Alpha fucker, on the other hand, talked the whole damn breakfast. He talked shit about how the United States was in crisis because it had lost its good old values and because the Omegas didn't know their place and tried to talk politics and make decisions instead of doing what nature intended and taking care of the kids and the household. Dean had never been much for activism, but he hated it when the Knots told him what to do and sent him to the kitchen to deliver puppies by the litter. And it had been hard for him not to tell Evans to fuck off, but in the end he'd gotten over it and kept his mouth shut. After dinner, they had to clear the table and wash the dishes, and then came the famous lesson.It took place in the room behind the door next to the fireplace in the dining room, which was set up like a nursery for little puppies. There were things like a carpet with the city printed on it, those foam tiles with numbers on them, and there were stickers and colored curtains on all the windows. There were dolls and building blocks and stuffed animals stacked in shelves along the walls, and educational posters for five-year-olds on the walls themselves. Like a smiling clown with an open chest and organs inside, with colorful labels and without all the details you'd find in a biology book (Sammy would have been scared to death if he'd seen that, and to be honest, Dean found it a little disturbing, too), or a poster explaining how to read the time on a clock face. Everything was dominated by a chalkboard decorated with a string of bats and pumpkins that must have been left over from Halloween, and a table and chairs that seemed to be the only ones in use. Everything else looked like a theater set.
From one of the cupboards they took out thin textbooks and exercise books that not only looked like they were meant for small children, all colorful pictures and simple sentences, but more importantly they contained material that would be simple and old even for Sammy, and so maybe appropriate for little Sybill's age. Definitely not for someone in their junior or even senior year of high school. Yeah, Dean knew he wasn't exactly a brain trust like Sam, but he hadn't needed anyone to explain the material to him with baby pictures in a long time. Maybe the stunted knothead really thought Omegas were stupid.
The three hours of so-called lessons dragged on even longer than normal school because, among other things, Dean was hungry. He hadn't eaten much during the heat. He wasn't hungry and could only eat candy bars, and for some strange reason he craved milk. But on the first day after the heat, he was so hungry that he could easily eat five hamburgers and the largest bucket of ice cream without blinking. Even though he hadn't gone through the heat because of the suppressors, he was still very hungry, and a small bowl of porridge was definitely not enough to fill him up.
He found himself looking forward to lunch, even if it was just another bowl of porridge with sugar. In the end, it was not much better. Alpha ordered a steak, a baked potato and some bacon fried beans, and that's what he got. The Omegas had boiled potatoes and boiled carrots. That was it. One damn small boiled potato and a handful of boiled carrots.He hated boiled carrots, but he was so hungry that he ate every last bit of them.
After lunch they had work to do. Cleaning the whole house. Angelo put Dean in charge, and Dean, looking at the other Omega's pink collar, didn't doubt for a moment that Angelo wouldn't hesitate to tell Alpha everything Dean did. That meant he wouldn't have a chance to look around the house and find a safe way out, at least not today. He still had to be patient and keep an eye on his roommate. So, without protest, he let himself be led down to the basement area where Angelo showed him that one of the doors was the other bathroom and told him to clean it thoroughly.
So he grabbed the bucket, gloves, and cleaning supplies the other Omega had given him and set to work.
°°0°°
He poured the last of the bucket into the toilet bowl, flushed it, took off his gloves and threw them on the edge of the bucket on the floor. And rubbed his stomach. He felt so uncomfortable in there. It wasn't like after the heat or before shark week, it was different. Not pain or a bloated feeling, but more like a ball of thin worms crawling inside him. He'd never experienced anything like it before, and it scared him a little. What if the damn suppressors had done something serious to him? Fucked something up inside him so badly that he'd need a doctor or... what if it was permanent? No more heat. In a way he wouldn't have minded, he didn't like it anyway, but without heat he could never... he could never have a puppy. Granted, he never wanted one, or at least he didn't think he would, but the idea terrified his stupid inner Omega.
"Stop it, Winchester!" He admonished himself loudly, but quietly so that Angelo wouldn't hear him if he was still in the kitchen next door cleaning up. "And don't be an idiot. I'm sure there's no way to stop the cycles with an injection. Sam would have confirmed it for you..." he let out a sigh and moved his hand to his stomach. "Shit... I'm so hungry."
He was literally a few steps from the kitchen. Maybe he could sneak in and steal some food. With a full stomach, he'd be able to think better, and maybe the other strange feelings would go away. Yeah, maybe he just needed to eat. He was never one for gambling, his father made sure of that and always got some extra money so Dean could be comfortable and warm for at least a day. Maybe it wasn't just the damn drugs, but the hunger.
He opened the door carefully and looked out into the hallway, his ears straining.
He heard footsteps somewhere upstairs, but no noise from the kitchen. Angelo had either finished for a while or gone somewhere. He was alone. This was actually a much bigger opportunity than just stealing the sandwich and a few slices of bacon.
He quietly closed the door behind him and made his way up the stairs, cautiously, padding like a mouse. Fortunately, the door above the stairs was unlocked and didn't creak, considering how old it was. Someone must have greased it regularly. He opened it easily, looked around and listened, and when he heard nothing more than distant footsteps, he quickly made his way to the front door. He was not at all surprised to find it secured with all the latches and locks. So he quickly opened it and tried the handle. It didn't work. It must be locked. How else could it be?
He had his nail, but he needed something else to open the door. Damn it! He should have at least gotten a fork or knife from the kitchen before rushing in. He turned to correct his mistake just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing the Alpha.
Dean's first thought was to run or fight, but he forced himself not to move, not even to go for the Alpha, not even to go for his throat. He stayed where he was, trying to pretend he wasn't going to run. With any luck, the knot would fall for it if he lowered his head and relaxed his shoulders to look harmless and submissive.
Concentrating on the few cracks in the tiles at his feet, he relaxed every muscle in his body, making himself as small and harmless as possible, remaining just as relaxed when footsteps approached and the smell of cardamom and grapefruit flooded his nose as the Alpha stood right next to him. He could feel his presence, the warmth emanating from him, so close the fucker was, and Dean's Omega was torn between fully accepting Dean's desire to push and sink his teeth into the Alpha and the need to lean in.
Out of the corner of his left eye, he caught Alpha reaching for the open clasps and beginning to close them slowly, one by one.
Dean's heart skipped a beat. Fuck! He knew it. He knew he had tried to escape, and Dean knew he wouldn't get away with it. He hadn't even had time to think about what his next punishment might be when the Alpha grabbed him by the collar and used it to slam him to the ground while grabbing the back of his head and squeezing that damn sensitive spot. A spot that belonged only to Castiel, his dad, and Bobby, and that this knotted fucker had no right to touch.
Before he could stop himself, an angry growl came out of his mouth and he jerked his head to relieve the pressure on the back of his head, not caring that it caused the leather collar to dig into his throat and scent glands.
At that moment, the air around him exploded with both an angry Alpha growl and the stench of rotting grapefruit.
"You really are an angry little cunt with no manners!" Alpha chastised him with a frankly rather pathetic curse, he'd heard better, and grabbed the back of his head again, this time so hard it hurt and Dean felt his nails digging deep into his skin. "I was going to wait, but it looks like you need to be shown your place. Where all bitches like you belong; on the Alpha knot."
He jerked Dean's collar so hard that the only option was to let him drag himself down the hallway, keeping his fingers in the hard leather just to make sure the collar didn't crush his windpipe or strangle his jugular. He knew that just twenty-five seconds of pressure on the carotid artery was enough to render a man unconscious. Twenty-five fucking seconds that gave him the choice between fighting with all his might and keeping his dignity and waking up with an Alpha knot in his ass and crying like a little girl.
He was dragged into the study where Alpha pulled him to his feet and threw him onto the sofa.
Dean gasped.
Everything around him was a bit foggy, but he knew exactly where his opponent was. He could smell the foul stench of rotting grapefruit, so he knew without hesitation where to growl before jumping up from the sofa and running over to the large desk that dominated what was probably Knothead's office. On top of it was an old desk lamp that matched the historic interior and - and this was the main thing - looked damn heavy. He grabbed it, vaguely noticing that he'd ripped the cord out of some kind of socket, turned it around, and swung it without hesitation.
"STOP!"
He froze in mid-motion. His consciousness was pushed to the background, his omega and primal instincts brought to the surface by brute force, yet he remained aware of his body. He resisted the sensation. And he felt every muscle in his body quiver as his Omega, actually against his will, held his body still as he tried with the rest of his conscious self to force it to move.
"PUT... the lamp on the table."
The next command was confusing. There was the power of the Alpha's voice, but at the same time it was as if his possessed Omega didn't really know what he wanted it to do, even though Dean knew with his conscious self that he was supposed to drop the lamp. The knot said it. It ordered him to put the lamp down on the table, but Dean still held it and didn't move. For a moment he was confused himself, but then it dawned on him. The order was too complicated! The first and second time he had asked him to do simple things, to kneel and stop, but putting the lamp on the table was a much more complicated task. Maybe if he'd just been told to drop it, he would have done it, but this way Dean was stuck like a fucking statue.
Knot growled in frustration, took a step, and snatched the lamp out of his hand. It hurt because the command forced him to stay still, including his fingers, but it didn't prepare his voice. He still managed to get a warning growl out of his lips and a hateful look into the angry, blazing eyes that were now so close.
The Alpha bared his fangs before grabbing the back of his head and slamming him violently against the table. The lamp landed in front of his face and strong hands grabbed his hips, digging into his flesh. Heat pressed against him from behind. The weight of his body pinned him to the table and at the same time Alpha kicked his legs apart. The reality of what was happening began to catch up with him. He couldn't move. He was literally trapped in his frozen body and couldn't even engage in the fight he had sworn to bring about no matter what. His heart was pounding in his chest and fear was working its way through his gut.
"Shut up and don't move unless you want me to knotting you," Alpha growled into his ear, hooking his fingers into the hem of his sweatpants.
Just then the doorbell rang. The fucking ridiculous horror tune that Dean had greeted with a sense of hope jammed itself down his throat in the form of a dumpling heralding a scream. He was saved. Or at least he hoped to be saved. It looked that way because the Alpha lifted off of him and stiffened. They both froze and listened as another chime sounded.
"Stay here and be quiet."
Just then, the Alpha grabbed his collar again and swung him down onto the couch. He landed on the velvet upholstery with his full weight, unable to even cover his face as he was still stiff and unable to move properly. Even if he wanted to make some noise, scream for help or run for the door after the departing Alpha, he couldn't. The numbness was still too strong, although he could feel the influence of the Alpha's voice slowly leaving him.
Sometime around the time he heard the creak of the door opening, he finally managed to pull himself up onto his hands, but he wasn't sure if he could stand. So he had no choice but to listen to what was going on in the next corridor.
"Can I help you?" Knot asked politely, but there was tension in his voice.
Dean quickly found out why. Despite the scent of grapefruit and cardamom, the draft brought him a whiff of bitter jam with a hint of tar and the bright musky scent of Alpha.
"I'm Detective Sheridan and this is Detective Ballard..."
"Hello," came a woman's voice.
"We're with the Special Victims Unit and we'd like to talk with a minor, Omega Dean Winchester, who was supposed to be in this shelter and in your custody as of yesterday."
"Yes, Omega Winchester has been here since yesterday. What exactly is this about?"
"Can we come in? Don't let's talk about it between the doors," demanded a female voice that belonged to the Ballard woman. It was probably Beta, since he couldn't smell her scent.
"Yes, yes, of course..." Knot agreed willingly, but still with that tension in his voice. Dean could imagine how he had just stepped out of the doorway and, with the usual reluctance of an Alpha, let another, unknown Alpha into his lair. He could clearly see the two of them standing at a safe distance, both of them standing at their full height, heads erect, chins jutting out and chests puffed out in their usual pose.
The door creaked and slammed shut, and the noise from the street died away.
"We're investigating suspected sexual abuse. It appears that Omega Winchester was used by an older Alpha," the other Alpha, Sheridan, explained.
"I see. It's sad, but I'm not surprised. I take troubled Omegas to Sun Hill, and most of them have had their run. The abuse is often only a small part of what they've been exposed to in their short lives," Knot said sympathetically. Sonofbitch! It hadn't been five minutes since he had tried to shove his ugly dick up Dean's ass. And instead of being the one threatened with rotting in prison for the rest of his life, two detectives came to get Dean to testify against his Alpha. Against Castiel, who never forced himself on him and always respected "no". No matter how many times he got scared and said no. Now he bitterly regretted ever saying 'no' to Cas, and if he could get out of this shithole before someone shoved a knot up his ass against his will, he'd never back down again. The first thing he would do was get fucked because... as stupid, childish and pathetic as it was, he wanted it to be Cas and never anyone else.
"Can we talk to him?" Beta asked.
"Sure. Come sit down and I'll go get him," Knot agreed without hesitation, and then a trio of footsteps could be heard retreating into the living room.
By this time the paralysis was gone, so he got up from the couch and stood in a defensive position facing the door, looking around while waiting for the Alpha to return. Behind his back was a desk that he had already managed to recognize, on the desk was a closed laptop and that old lamp. Behind the desk was a comfortable and expensive office chair, all wood and leather. To the left of the door was the sofa Alpha had been sitting on for hours, next to some metal filing cabinets, a couple of paintings hung on the walls, and the windows overlooked a small garden and, more importantly, the walls of nearby houses.
The door opened. Dean tensed and gritted his teeth, instinctively ready for another fight, even though he knew he wasn't expecting one right now. The Alpha would want him to come with him and talk to the detectives.
Closing the door behind him, Knot met Dean's gaze and grinned.
"Just as I thought. Another bitch selling her wet hole," he spat in disgust. "And the tax money of honest, hard-working alphas like me wasted on the likes of you."
Now it was Dean's turn to grin and raise his chin defiantly, his gaze fixed on the Alpha's eyes, knowing full well how angry that would make him.
"Hard work? You have no idea what hard work is. What it means to sweat for every damn dollar. You make money by abusing defenseless Omegas - "
He would have said more, but the Alpha was on him in an instant, snarling and baring his full teeth, a hint of red in his eyes, and grabbed him by the hair. With a jerk, he twisted his head around, then grabbed him under the chin and held him tight.
"You think you're special?" The Alpha shithead laughed in his face. "I've had dozens of sassy bitches like you around here, and they've all left here well-behaved. I'll teach you to behave and beg for a knot."
"Fuck you!" He snarled through bared teeth.
The Alpha growled again, let go of his chin and swung to strike. Dean didn't try to duck or cover. He continued to hold his head up, chin jutting out, staring into the Alpha's eyes. He couldn't cover effectively anyway, so he wasn't going to give the knothead the satisfaction of seeing him scared and humiliated.
Somewhat surprisingly, the blow didn't land. He quickly realized why. The Alpha couldn't afford to bring him in front of the detectives with a freshly cut lip and a black eye. That's why the idiot had just knocked him to the ground and when Dean landed on all fours, before he could turn to defend himself, he straddled him, grabbed his collar and pulled him up. He caught the hard edge of the leather pinching him and then he heard the click of the lock as the collar was pulled from his neck.
The Alpha grabbed his neck again and leaned down to his ear.
"Remember, I'll be with you the whole time. If you even hint anything to the cops, I'll lock you in a closet and leave you to rot in your own shit and piss, do you understand?"
Dean just grunted.
He wasn't going to tell the cops anything. They wouldn't listen to him and they wouldn't trust him, just like he didn't trust them. Their Alpha was right about that, and Dean realized just how right he was now that he was forced to kneel at the feet of the fucking Knot. The police, the authorities, the government... none of them could be trusted. If a man wanted to survive in this fucked up world, especially if he was an Omega, he had to take care of himself and his problems because no one was going to help him.
Alpha picked him up and pushed him towards the door.
Notes:
None of the Omegas has a physical or mental handicap that would prevent them from attending school normally and being educated according to the standard curriculum. Evans has doctors who are willing to diagnose various physical or mental handicaps in the Omegas under his care and recommend home schooling. Primarily, it's a way to get more money from the state and various charities. And secondly, he has the Omegas under his constant control and can subject them to psychological and sexual abuse. He rarely uses actual fisticuffs or other physical violence that leaves marks. However, he does starve the Omegas, subject them to social and sensory deprivation (they do not leave the house and there are no distractions in the house, they even have colorless clothes, which is very frustrating for the Omegas), and maintains a constant atmosphere of fear.
Chapter 51
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In person, Omega Dean gave a similar impression to the police photo; reserved and cautious. He was certainly not as happy, friendly, and perhaps even cheeky as in the school photo. The fact that he was dressed in a gray tracksuit and that his hair was bald certainly played a role, but so did the way he moved and the way he looked around the room. He was mapping his surroundings in much the same way they taught you at the police academy. Check all the exits, including the windows, take stock of the potential weapons in the room and assess the level of danger for everyone present and then, in Dean's case, choose the safest place to sit down.
He had a choice of two chairs opposite the sofa where he and Peter sat; one with a window to the street behind it and the other to a corner of the room. Omega chose the latter, and without the slightest hesitation, with a confidence more akin to Alpha or a very dominant Beta, he sat down in it, oblivious to the fact that Alpha Evans was making his way towards him first. And he didn't cower or fold his hands in his lap, as Omegas were wont to do when faced with an uncomfortable situation or conversation. He kept his head up, his eyes darting between Diana and Peter in disbelief, and he spread his legs comfortably but remained tense. Attentive. Yes, that was definitely Omega Dean Winchester. He was a very attentive young Omega who stood out from the average in both his appearance and his clearly dominant demeanor.
"Hi, Omega Winchester. I'm Diana Ballard, and this is Peter Sheridan," she introduced them, because as always when dealing with a victim, Peter let her speak first. Especially when the victim was an Omega. "Can we call you Deana or would you prefer to be called by your subgender?" He asked. Some Omegas found it comforting to be called by their secondary gender, others didn't. It was a matter of personal preference and Diana wanted Dean to feel as comfortable as possible.
"I don't care. I'm used to Omega," she received a disinterested reply and a small shrug, as well as minimal attention as Omega's gaze shifted to Alpha Evans, who walked behind him and sat down in the other chair.
"Okay, so Dean," she chose Omega's name herself, because the way he was acting said that he didn't want to be deperzoned and that he wasn't going to be placated by displays of dominance. "We're detectives with the NYPD. Special Victims Unit."
"Do you know what department that is?" Peter followed smoothly, his voice muffled into a soothing alpha purr.
That got Dean's attention immediately. He tore his gaze away from Alpha Evans, whom he'd been watching steadily up to that point, and fixed it on Peter, and there was certainly nothing in his eyes or face to suggest that Peter's purr was reassuring.
"I'm guessing something that specializes in Omegas and children. And abuse and mistreatment and things like that," he replied, as distant as before. He was consciously distancing himself from both himself as an Omega and a child, and from abuse and mistreatment.
Diana took a deep breath, trying to catch Dean's scent. Since arriving at the house, she had only been able to identify the scent of Alpha Evans, cardamom and bitter grapefruit, and the many sweet scents of Omegas underneath. That was strange. She knew that even with her sensitive sense of smell, she might have trouble distinguishing the individual Omega scents simply because they were so similar, but considering how many Omegas were here, the overall sweetness should be as strong as the smell of the Alpha who owned this cave. Maybe even stronger. She had been in several Omega dens in her career, and it was always the same.
But here she couldn't even pick up Dean's scent properly, even though he was only a little more than a meter away.
"We specialize in cases involving vulnerable victims," Peter replied, and she could tell by the way his nostrils flared and his eyebrows furrowed that he had of course noticed the absence of strong Omega scents.
"Yeah. Omegas... that's what I'm saying," Dean replied with a grin, unconsciously raising his hand to the zipper of his jacket, which was buttoned up to his chin, and for a moment it looked like he was about to unzip it, but then, as if he realized what he was doing, he put his hand back on the back of the chair. "I'm not the victim of a crime, okay? But I understand that you have to hear me out before you realize that I'm not a victim, so... come at me! Bring flashlights, an injection of truth serum, or feel free to bring a car battery. Just get it over with."
Defensiveness was not uncommon among victims, but it wasn't very common among Omegas. They tended to keep to themselves. It already looked like it was going to be really hard to talk Dean out of it.
"You and your younger Alpha brother lived in a motel for a while. Right?" Peter began cautiously, they wanted to get to the main topic gradually and they also needed to get a picture of Dean's life in general.
" Yeah, they lived, but you already know that. Do you want to get to the point? Because we're going to be like this for a long time," Omega replied again defensively, raising his hand to his neck to straighten the edge of his buttoned sweatshirt.
"We'd like to get a picture of your life," Diana said.
"Fine, okay," Omega snorted. "My name is Dean Henry Winchester, I'm Omega, and I was born January 24th, 2007 in Lawrence, Kansas. I'm an Aquarius, I love long walks on the beach and wild women. I'm not named after James Dean like most people think, but after my grandmother Deanna. My omega mom passed away years ago and alpha dad, me and Sammy have been driving around the states in a Impala '67 ever since. She's a beauty. Rear wheel drive, 300 horsepower under the hood. Restored and maintained, all original parts. None of the modern imitations. You should see her, and more importantly, hear her. She purrs like a big kitten."
Once again, Omega was talking about things other than his life and his father.
"But this time, you weren't with your father. He left you alone in the motel," Diana reminded.
"Yeah. He does that sometimes," Dean replied as casually as before. "He'll leave us somewhere for two or three weeks and go to work. But it's not like he left us without money or food or anything, and we had trouble taking care of ourselves and needed help. Sam is twelve, he's not a little puppy anymore, and I'm sixteen, I'm going to be seventeen soon. I'm old enough to take care of both of us, and I can and do work legally. In a small diner. I wash dishes and wipe tables and take out the garbage. I manage to go to school on top of my job. Half of my classmates work at a Mickey D's somewhere for pocket money. So I don't know what the problem is. Why did Sam and I have to be separated and I have to live in this... shelter?"
"The law remembers situations like this, and yes, if they left you alone for less than three weeks, it would be okay, but we all know it was a lot more than that," Diana pointed out.
Dean just pursed his lips and frowned, confirming that John Winchester had probably left them alone from the beginning. That was over five weeks ago.
"But that doesn't matter much now. Your father's been arrested, which means you have no legal guardian, and you can't be without one at your age. I know you understand that."
"Does it really matter so much? The fact that I'm not eighteen yet? I've managed to take care of my little brother, and that's probably the most important thing. Or does that woman from Social Services have something else to say?" Omega asked sharply, obviously hurt.
"No, no one's saying you didn't take good care of your brother," Peter assured him in a reassuring tone, full of Alpha vibes but not overly aggressive, and leaned forward, his head bowed slightly in acknowledgement. It was clear that he wanted to reassure Omega of his ability to take care of the pup, which was very important to Omega, but Dean didn't react enthusiastically, just continued to frown. "No one questions your ability to take care of a puppy. We know you'd do anything for him. You worked to make sure you had money to buy food, you made sure your brother went to school... you even found a better place to live than a motel room, right?" Peter brought it up lightly, trying to get Dean to talk about Alpha's use of him.
Omega reacted immediately. He straightened abruptly and bared his teeth in a sneer.
"Right, I get it. I know exactly what you're thinking. But you're wrong." He leaned forward the same way Peter had, actually leaning in his direction and looking him straight in the eye without the slightest hesitation. " Yeah, we stayed in an apartment that belonged to a family friend who also helped out a little, but it wasn't because I couldn't handle paying for a motel and food and taking care of Sam. He let us stay in the apartment because it was safer than a motel. And he didn't want anything in return, okay?"
"You mean Ivan Novak, owner of the Blue Sky Alpha Club and the Garden strip club?" Diana asked.
"Yeah, that's him. Ivan Kons... kosto... something with a K that I can never pronounce. His last name is Novak, but he goes by Castiel," Omega didn't hesitate to reveal Alpha's name.
Diana pulled out her phone and quickly found a photo on it from this morning when they had checked out the owner of the apartment where Dean and his brother were staying. It turned out that the house belonged to a condominium with an investment fund in which several people from Russia and Belarus were the majority shareholders. Alpha Novak was one of them. He had probably obtained the lease for the apartment through an acquaintance, since none of the apartments owned by the fund were currently for rent, but he was paying full market rent. There was nothing illegal or suspicious about it, but... One look at Novak's photo was enough to alert her police instincts, honed by twelve years of service, that something was wrong with this man. It wasn't just that he'd probably rented the apartment shortly after meeting Omega Dean - the date the Winchester brothers had enrolled in school and the date Alpha Novak had signed the lease were only four days apart. It was obvious that he'd planned to put Omega up there from the beginning, and certainly not out of good faith, which was never the case in such cases.
It was also about Novak's entire past and, in truth, his appearance... something in his eyes was a warning to Diana. Alpha Novak, or as he called himself, Alpha Castiel, had come out of nowhere three years ago. He'd arrived from Russia with at least ten million in the bank, or he wouldn't have gotten his green card so quickly. He bought a strip club that had been closed for years and rebuilt it from the ground up, and he did the same with a so-called private dance club that was widely known to host swingers parties and suspected of hosting Omega auctions. He made both places upscale, or at least as upscale as a Stritch could be, and got rid of the stench of black commerce that lingered in both places. But according to Diana, it was all for show.
The problem was, they ran Novak's face and name through the computer and got nothing. Just his immigration papers, his driver's license, his proper tax returns and asset statements, his membership in a dozen prominent New York Alpha Societies, his contributions to charity, and a photo of him next to people who would be very vocal if the police were interested in their acquaintance. Because of this, the captain warned them to proceed with the utmost caution and diplomacy. No one wanted to upset important people, like the Russian ambassador to New York, Councilwoman Talbot, or even the police chief, with whose brother Alpha Novak had been photographed more than once in convivial conversation. Diana understood but disagreed. No matter how long Novak's fingers were, he deserved to end up behind bars, as did all of his ilk.
She reached over to Dean with her cell phone and showed him the photo from Immigration.
"Is this the Alpha Novak who allowed you to stay in his apartment?"
Omega just glanced at the phone.
"Yeah, that's him."
"How did you meet him?" She asked, putting the phone back in her jacket pocket.
"Like I said... he's kind of a family friend," Omega replied a little evasively.
"A friend of your father's?" Peter asked, and Diana understood why he was interested.
Selling Omega's own children was the most disgusting thing she knew, and unfortunately it was much more common than most people thought. She'd seen it so many times... an underage Omega being forced by her or his parents to sign a contract for future mating in exchange for money. Of course, it had long been illegal for Alphas to pay directly for signing a contract, but private transfers between accounts, donations in kind, or even cash payments... no one could forbid that. The situation would have been somewhat improved if it had been possible to sign contracts for future mating up to the age of eighteen, but unfortunately, despite the best efforts of organizations fighting for the rights of Omegas, such restrictions could not be legally enforced. Underage Omegas continued to be sold by their parents and sometimes forced to mate before the age of majority, often in the good faith of parents who thought they were securing a stable future or good health for their Omega child. In fact, there were still many people who believed that Omegas needed Alpha during their heats to stay mentally and physically healthy, or even that pregnancy in Omegas prevented cancer. These myths were believed especially by Omega men, who were still too often considered mentally unstable, and the higher mortality rates from breast, uterine, and ovarian cancer among them were attributed to the fact that they did not get pregnant or did not do so in time. Diana was active in several breast cancer prevention organizations because of her mother, so she knew the truth lay elsewhere.Statistically, Omega males developed breast and cervical cancer later than Omega and Beta females, precisely because there was still too much stigma attached to it and the belief that puppies were the best cure for cancer. And so, quite unnecessarily, Omega fathers of even a few puppies died.
So it would not be surprising if Alpha Winchester sold his Omega son to Alpha Novak and left his other son in New York, just to get rid of the obligation, perhaps hoping that Alpha Novak would take pity on him and keep him. Or turn him over to the state. She'd worked on cases like that during her career in Special Victims.
"No, not my dad's. They've never even met," Omega denied, seeming sincere.
"So just your friend."
"Yeah, something like that." Omega shrugged, as if there was nothing special about a forty-year-old Alpha being friends with a sixteen-year-old Omega. Pretty sure Dean hadn't realized how toxic and dangerous to his mental and physical health his supposed relationship with Alpha Novak was. Kids Dean's age never noticed. In fact, they felt special that someone so much older was paying attention to them, and predators like Novak deliberately reinforced that impression. Dean had certainly heard the phrases about how he was more mature than his classmates, or how Novak would never think of someone so young, but that Dean was special. And he'd probably even told him that he smelled unusually good or that they were Tru Mates. The young, romantic Omegas had always heard that, and even if Dean didn't seem to be the most romantic type, True Mates had a strong resonance in society and the media. Every other romantic movie was about it.
"If he's not a friend of your Alpha, where did you two meet? TikTok or Facebook?" Diana asked; social networking sites were prime hunting grounds for Alphas like Novak.
Dean laughed in surprise.
"TikToku? I doubt Castiel has one, and frankly, neither do I," Omege pointed out, which was even more surprising. These days, everyone his age had a TikTok, if not with their parents' permission, then secretly. Teenagers had always found a way to get on social media and avoid parental supervision. Diana saw the strong influence of Alpha Winchester in this, which was probably why Dean had trusted the much older Alpha so easily. He had been raised under the influence of his Alpha father, and with Novak taking the Alpha father position that Dean lacked, it was easy for him to bring Omega under his influence.
"No, we didn't meet on the Internet, it was actually old school and pretty fun and romantic," Omega continued unprompted. "I was coming home from work that night and stopped to do some shopping. And that's when I met Castiel. He was buying cookies and milk, and he smelled really good, but you know how it is? He was older and everything, so I didn't dare talk to him. I knew he'd think I was just a kid and not want to talk to me at all, but it wasn't like that. He waited for me outside, gave me his card and phone number, and... we kind of started talking."
"Are you two dating?" Peter asked.
"No. I wanted to, but when Alpha found out how old I was, he said it wasn't possible. That I was too young."
"But you've kept in touch..." she let it trail off.
" Yeah, we did. We're True Mates, you know? That's why he let us stay in his apartment and helped us, but that's all. We don't sleep together, we're just friends."
We're just friends, she heard painfully often. Sometimes it was true, when things came out in time, but just as often it was just a phrase kids like Dean had learned to say to defend those they often thought they loved.
"Dean... Omega," Peter said softly, his voice once again muffled into a friendly Alpha purr, and he slowly leaned forward, head bowed and hands clasped to give the least threatening impression possible. "You need to understand one thing: no matter what Alpha Castiel told you, you're not guilty of anything. Whatever happened between you and him, whatever you did to him, no punishment awaits you."
"Yes, Dean," Diana joined him. "Neither I nor Detective Sheridan nor anyone else is going to judge you for anything. You're only sixteen, and even though you're no longer a child, you're still very young, and there are... things that no one can hold you responsible for, either legally or morally. The one who is responsible is Alpha Novak, who is an adult and much older than you. And as a responsible adult, he should have ignored the fact that you were drawn together by the scent bond, and he should have cut off all contact with you the moment he found out that you were only sixteen. He didn't, and he didn't do it on purpose. Men like that know what they're doing. He knew he had power over you, both as an elder and as an Alpha..."
At this point, Dean chuckled loudly and really amused, which interrupted Diana.
"I'm not going to fall at anyone's feet just because they're an Alpha," he said, glancing first at Peter, then at Alpha Evans, and finally back at Diana. "Castiel has no power over me, and I don't need your help. My Alpha didn't force me to do anything, and we didn't do anything forbidden together...or is it illegal for two people to text each other or go out to dinner just because one of them is only sixteen? Am I forbidden to talk to whomever I want?"
As far as the strict letter of the law was concerned, Dean was absolutely right. Even though Omega was under the age of consent, the law saw the difference between a ten-year-old puppy and a sixteen-year-old Omega. With a ten-year-old, even ambiguous reports and the fact that someone much older had simply encountered such a puppy without the parents' knowledge would have been enough. With a sixteen-year-old Omega, the prosecutor would need much more than that to be willing to file charges. Solid evidence, Dean's testimony, something that would clearly prove that things went beyond holding hands and kissing. And once Dean turns seventeen, Novak will be almost untouchable. Because at that point, Omega will be able to give him full consent, and if they wanted to accuse Alpha Novak of anything, they'd have to prove that he used his superiority to force Dean into intercourse by psychological coercion. And that was hard to prove. Novak being Alpha and so much older wouldn't be enough.
Now was their only chance. If they didn't take it, Novak would get away and find another victim after Dean. So she decided to put some pressure on Dean.
"We know that's not true," he said seriously, much less understanding than before. "There was more between you than a few platonic dates and chats. The Alpha mark on your shoulder is proof of that."
"That's not an Alpha mark. It's a hickey from a girl at school," Dean dismissed her accusation calmly, and if she hadn't known he was lying, she would have believed his words. But Diana knew her own.
"That's not even true," she pressed harder, expecting Dean to react like most kids his age; get angry or lower his eyes, but Omega surprised her by continuing to stare back without blinking. She didn't let that throw her off balance and continued: "Novak may have managed to avoid leaving fang marks on your shoulder, but that doesn't mean there weren't marks. There were impressions from the front of his teeth and one very unusual thing..." she paused at this point, keeping a close eye on Dean's reactions. She could read his face and his eyes as his mind raced in quick thoughts, and then for a moment she caught a glimmer of insight that quickly disappeared in favor of an indifferent look and a contemptuous smile.
"Yeah? And what was so interesting?"
"A full-sized alpha fang. Just one," she revealed, to which Omega only commented in silence.
"When we meet Alpha Novak, will he have an artificial Alpha fang?" Peter asked suggestively.
"I don't know... you'll have to find out for yourself," Dean shrugged, whereupon he gave Alpha Evans a slightly longer look. "Talk to him and you'll see that I'm telling the truth. And maybe you'll find out that some Alphas aren't what you think they are," he added, probably in an attempt to further defend Alpha Novak.
"I think it's time to end this," Alpha Evans interrupted before Diana or Peter could say anything else, standing up.
"We have a few more questions..." Peter piped up politely but firmly.
"Those will have to wait a few days," Alpha Evans replied. "Dean is a day or two ahead of his heat and needs rest. Your questioning is upsetting him."
The medical report talked about preheating, but Dean looked as if his preheating had just begun, not quite finished. And his scent was so faint that it was only now, after a long conversation, that she caught hints of apple orchard in bloom and pine with a hint of sweetness. Considering how close he'd been to the harem, he must have been wearing strong blockers to keep his scent so obscured. This was not the norm in Omega shelters. Outside of the preheat and the heat, Omegas were happy to be in the company of other Omegas and their scents.
"Do you have scent blockers, Dean?" she asked.
"Yes, he does," Alpha Evans answered for him. "I allow my charges to use the blockers if they wish. It calms them down and makes them feel safer. As I'm sure you can understand, the Omegas I take under my wing have had bad experiences with the Alpha's reaction to their scent, so they prefer to get rid of it," he explained before turning to Dean. "Go to your room, Omega, and get some rest. I'll check on you later," he ordered Dean authoritatively.
Omega gave him a long, frowning look, his jaw clenched and his whole posture showing defiance, but then he stood up and made his way to the door, just as Alpha Evans had ordered.
"We're not done yet," Peter said, rising to face the other Alpha.
"Omega Dean is under no obligation to speak with you."
"It should be up to Dean to decide if he wants to talk to us or not," Diana added, also rising to support Peter. She didn't like it when Alphas wanted to make decisions for the Omegas in their care.
" He's in my care, and I make the decisions for him. I do it for his own good. Dean," he turned to the Omega again. "Go to your room," he repeated his order more firmly than before, and a strong whiff of bitter grapefruit wafted into the air, pinching Diana's nose.
He glanced over his shoulder at the Omegas who had stopped at the door, watching the whole situation warily, and now that the Alpha Evan had ordered him to do something again, he gave the shelter director a long look before turning and walking out of the room. He had left the door open so that he could be seen walking up the stairs.
"You know you're interfering with a police investigation?" Peter warned the other Alpha, striking a pose.
Evans returned the pose and didn't back down.
"I have nothing against your investigation, but I know my rights and the rights of my charges, and it is my duty to do what is best for the Omegas in my care. Dean needs to rest and be at peace. If he wants to talk to him again, you can, in ten days. And it's best if you make yourself known before then," Alpha Evans added, walking around the room in a wide circle, never taking his eyes off Peter, and pausing at the door in a clear invitation for them to leave. His whole posture and what Diana could pick up from the scent with her Beta sniff told her that he didn't want them in the house anymore, and the way Peter's nostrils flared and tightened as he sniffed told her that her Alpha felt far more hostility than she did.
It was strange, even suspicious, that Alpha Evans had gone from being so friendly to so hostile so quickly when he had remained calm and collected throughout their conversation with Omega. And it had happened for no apparent reason. No matter how strange the Alpha's behavior was, if he didn't want them in the house, they had no right to stay or even demand Dean's resignation. They both knew that, so Peter let his shoulders slump and relaxed his stance to show his acceptance of the other Alpha's decision.
"We want to talk to Omega Winchester again," Peter said as he slowly approached, fumbling in his pocket for his business card. "Here's my number. Call me when Dean's heat is over so we can make an appointment."
Alpha Evans took the card, but didn't even look at it.
"I'll call you when Dean is in a condition to talk to you. Now please..." He gestured between the doors towards the hallway.
The corners of Peter's lips twitched a little as if he wanted to show his teeth, but he didn't, instead walking past Alpha Evans with his head held high. Diana followed him. In the hallway, the Alpha Director of the Sanctuary walked past them and opened the door wide, a clear invitation to leave as quickly as possible. And as soon as they stepped outside, into the relative lee of the porch that sheltered them from the persistent drizzle and howling wind, he closed the door firmly behind them.
Diana frowned at the closed door.
The behavior of the shelter leader and the shelter itself was strange. The lack of omega scents, Dean's clothing, the fact that he used blockers, and the way he sometimes looked at the Alpha who had him in his care were all strange.
"'Weird guy..." Peter said, saying out loud exactly what was going through her mind, and turned to leave.
She gave the antique knocker one last look before turning away and quickly running down the stairs to catch up with her Alpha, who was already walking through the small, neglected garden towards the gate.
"Yeah, he was acting a little strange towards the end."
"Maybe he's just overprotective of his Omegas," Peter grumbled, holding the gate for her.
"Maybe, but it's not just that... did you notice that there were hardly any Omega scents around back then?"
"Noticed. It looked like someone had carefully sprayed every room there with anti-odor spray. Or..."
"Or what?" he asked, looking up from the driver's door she was about to open.
"With Omegas on suppressants, the smell usually fades, but that can't be the case here."
No, it couldn't be. Suppressants were prescription drugs, and a doctor couldn't prescribe suppressants to an Omega or an Alpha under the age of eighteen. It was illegal. Therefore, suppressants could only be prescribed to young Omegas and Alphas if they suffered from one of the diseases on the approved list, or any other serious illness where there was a risk that the heat or rut would endanger their life and limb. For example, cancer or a heart defect. This could not have been the case for Dean because the medical report said he was in perfect health.
"Maybe we should take a closer look at the shelter..." she groaned thoughtfully as she opened the door and then slid behind the wheel.
Peter slid into the next seat and reached for the seatbelt to buckle himself in.
"The shelter isn't our case or our responsibility."
"Yes, but..."
"What do you want to do anyway?" he interrupted, the smell of tar getting a little stronger. "We can't just go to the captain and tell him there's something you don't like about Sun Hill and the warden, Alpha Evans, who's been given an award by the city for his exemplary care of the youth and his years of helping Omegas get off the streets."
"After all, our opinion counts for something," she argued.
"It doesn't, and you know it. It's the evidence that counts, not our suspicions," he countered, and unfortunately he was right; she could have all the suspicions she wanted, as long as she couldn't back them up with evidence, there was nothing to be done. "We've got the Russian's case on our hands; he's a tricky one himself. I don't want to stir up another hornet's nest just because of some feelings, even if they are your feelings," Alpha concluded with a slight grunt.
She pursed her lips disapprovingly, but didn't argue and turned the key in the ignition. At that moment, Peter placed a hand on her cheek, causing her to turn toward him. Their eyes met. Peter had a small, conciliatory smile on his face, and as he leaned into Diana, before their lips met in a kiss, he let out a deep purr that always sent a pleasant warmth down her back. With a sigh, she went to meet him and clasped the wrist of the hand that was resting on her cheek.
Peter pulled away and lapped at her eyes again.
"Let's take care of the Russian first and then check out this shelter, shall we?" he suggested conciliatorily. "We both have a few days off, so why not spend them watching instead of Netflix? It won't be much more boring."
She smiled amusedly.
"Okay, Alpha. We'll do that," she agreed, letting go of his wrist.
Peter leaned back in his seat and Diana started the car and spun it out onto the road.
°°0°°
Dean sat on the bed, listening intently to the sounds of the house, unconsciously touching the irritated skin of his jaw where the uncleaned edge of the buoy had rubbed a quarter of an hour ago. He thought not of the thick skin that had confined him for most of the day, but of the detectives he had heard leaving. About the damn idiots who talked to him like he had half a brain, trying to make him believe that their Alpha dad neglected them and that Castiel was a damn puppy rapist and Dean his victim. Life with Dad wasn't always easy, and life with Castiel had rules that normal people wouldn't understand, but the only damn abuser and pedo here was Evans. He was the one who treated not only Dean but all the Omegas in this house violently and took pleasure in it. It was different than when Cas had to punish him and only a fool wouldn't see the difference.
The front door of the chapel opened and footsteps came up the stairs.
Dean stood at the door, taking up a defensive position.
Whatever the Knot had in store for him, Dean was sure that he wouldn't escape unpunished, so he didn't even try to feign obedience or kneel down when the door opened. Of course, that didn't go unanswered. The Alpha bared his teeth in a menacing growl, and the rotting grapefruit began to spread in waves.
"Kneel!" He ordered, but not in the Alpha's voice, so Dean could resist.
He considered not doing so, but finally decided it would be better to comply. Maybe he should have shown obedience from the beginning to avoid punishment, but he didn't want to do that on principle. Everything he'd told those detectives had been the truth; he wasn't going to let some fucking Knothead break him.
For now, though, he sank slowly to the floor, his eyes still fixed on Alpha, and didn't move as Evan walked over to him and adjusted the thick collar around his neck.
"Let's go!" He ordered a second time, grabbing Dean's collar and forcing him to his feet.
He was ready to fight if Knot wanted to drag him to his room, for example, but as they headed for the stairs, he went along more or less willingly. Down the hall he saw Charlie standing in the doorway to the living room. They walked past her and then into the study. At that moment, Dean tensed, ready to fight again if Evans decided to take him back to his study and pick up where they left off, but he opened the door to the kitchen stairs instead. That was confusing. What the hell was he planning?
"Where the hell are we going?" He asked as they went down the stairs.
"Shut up, bitch!" Alpha yelled at him, tugging on his collar so hard that he stumbled down the last two steps, and if he hadn't had good reflexes, he probably would have fallen to the ground.
Knot didn't care, of course, and yanked the collar again, so hard that the hard skin bit into Dean's neck, which hurt, and then pushed him toward the kitchen.
"Did you think you'd give those detectives a clue and they'd save you?" Alpha asked mockingly as he pushed Dean across the kitchen to the strange chamber with the lock on the outside. "And that I wouldn't notice?" He added, pushing him so hard that he hit the wall next to the door to the chamber sideways, and then Alpha grabbed him under the neck and leaned down to look him right in the eyes and growled right into his face. Under his gaze and the smell of rotting grapefruit, which was all he could smell at the moment, Dean's inner Omega crouched a little in fear, but at the same time gritted his teeth in defense, and Dean did the same. If only because he didn't know what the fucking fool was talking about. "Even if you told them something, they wouldn't believe you. No one cares about pathetic losers like you. You're a worthless hole for Alpha knot!" He spat in his face, teeth bared, but leaving the fangs in his gums for now.
Dean grinned in his face.
"You'd be surprised who cares about me. And when I get out of here... oh, man! You'll get to know my Alpha, but it'll be the last thing you do in your damn life, you stunted Knot!" He replied just as mockingly, taking great pleasure in the smell of bitter rot that grew stronger with every word.
Alpha's eyes flashed red. Evans grabbed him by the hair and slammed him to the floor. The door creaked as the Knot opened it, and at that moment the smell of piss, shit and vomit wafted from the small chamber beyond, so strong that Dean was shocked he hadn't smelled it before. The rotting grapefruit must have blocked his nose because the hole under the door was big enough for the smell to escape.
"You'll never get out of here! You're only mine, you understand?" Knothead growled possessively, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him toward him, burying his nose in his throat with a loud, disgusting sniff. "And I'm not afraid of your Alpha. He's a wimp who couldn't knock you down in your place. I'm a better Alpha than him. Stronger and more dominant, and I'll teach you to be a proper Omega bitch," he promised again, probably with nothing else in his repertoire, and then pushed Dean into the small chamber. Fucking pathetic dick!
He turned around immediately and lunged back with a growl, trying to knock the Alpha down and get away before he could just shut up, but of course Evans was expecting it and was ready. Grabbing Dean under the neck with one hand and holding back his attacking fist with the other, the Alpha pushed him violently against the back wall of the chamber. His back hit the solid brick wall and his foot caught on a metal bucket standing in the corner. The force of the hand holding his throat robbed him of air and pressed his neck painfully against the hard wall, but he wasn't about to give up. He grabbed the wrist that was holding him with his free hand and dug his nails into it as he tried to sink his fangs into the flesh of the fucking Alpha's face that was pressed against him with his entire body, making it impossible for him to move. He wanted to hit him! He wanted to rip off a piece of his face or his nose and at the same time, somewhere inside, he just wanted to get out of this lost place. He wanted to stop fighting and be with his Alpha again.
The Knot clicked its teeth against his cheek, but unlike Castiel, it didn't make Dean back down. He tried to hit the Knot's balls with his knee, but missed, hitting only his thigh. The force of the blow was enough to make Evans grunt in pain, a small victory. Unfortunately, it was only a momentary victory. Alpha slammed the back of Dean's head into the wall.
Pain flashed in front of his eyes, and that, along with the lack of air, caused him to momentarily lose the strength to defend himself. It couldn't have been more than twenty or thirty seconds, but even that was enough for the Alpha to knock him down, and before Dean could put up any more resistance, he heard the click of the lock closing. The Alpha was clipping something to his collar. Automatically, he reached for the rough leather and fumbled around until he found the ring the chain was attached to. Without thinking, he tugged at it, only to find that it was attached to a large eyelet bolted to the floor, so short that it wouldn't allow him to stand. Not that standing would have done him any good, the chamber was so small he couldn't have taken a step anyway.
He snarled, gritted his teeth and looked defiantly at Alpha, who had just stepped out of the door. This gave Dean a glimpse not only of his smug grin, but also of the small chamber he was chained in, the light from the kitchen illuminating the whole thing. There was nothing in it but one bare brick wall and three wooden ones, the floor covered with cheap linen and a metal bucket in the corner. The omnipresent stench of excrement mixed with the smell of detergent and also the smell of terrified Omegas in pain, and as Dean could see, the door of the cupboard was covered with various old scratches. That was all he could see before the Alpha grinned triumphantly and slammed the door shut.
Everything was plunged into darkness, broken only by a small strip of light streaming down below the door. The stench immediately grew thicker, as did the air, and Dean felt sick. Then he heard the sound of the vacuum lock from outside the door. It was locked! He was fucking locked in this shitty little stinking hole and there was no way he could get out. He could break the lock on his collar with his nail, but then he'd still be trapped in the chamber because the lock was on the outside and there was no way to get to it from the inside.
There was nothing he could do but sit in the dark and inhale the smell of fear that made his Omega curl up and growl at the same time and... it scared him. It scared the hell out of him to be locked in a small room in complete darkness. In what he knew was a desperate attempt to free himself, he yanked on the chain a few more times before staggering forward and pressing his palms against the door. The splintered wood stung his skin. He couldn't help himself and dug his nails into it to... what, exactly? Pull yourself together, Winchester, and think. Dad taught you that too. What do you do when you're locked in the trunk of a car? Stay calm, conserve your strength, and be ready to fight when the trunk opens, because that's your first chance to escape.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his mouth to avoid the smell around him as much as possible, then exhaled just as slowly. His heart was still pounding and he felt as if the darkness would swallow him up, but this way, with a plan and an idea of what to do, he felt better.
He leaned his back against the door, sliding down the old wood and stretching his legs as far as the tiny chamber would allow.
He had to stay calm, and he would. He wasn't a whining Omega and this Alpha bastard wasn't going to beat him. He would stay strong for Sammy... for Cas, and when he finally got out of here, he would enjoy seeing the poor Knot suffer.
Notes:
It is in the nature of Omegas to be submissive to Alphas and conciliatory to other subgenders. Thus, Evans is usually able to "train" an Omega very quickly, which of course does not prevent him from continuing to "train" the Omegas in his care with various forms of punishment. Dean is unusually defiant and has a propensity for violent behavior that Evans has not often seen in Omegas, so he resorts to even more brutal treatment with Dean than with other Omegas.
Chapter 52
Notes:
I know there are a lot of shelter chapters and it could probably be shortened, but that's just my writing style. If I try to cut or skip around, I get stuck in my writing. You'll have to be patient. ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He wasn't sure how much time had passed. In the darkness and silence, time was wrong, and it was really quiet down here in the basement. The noise of the house was inaudible, and it wasn't until the other Omegas came into the kitchen that he noticed that anyone was in the house at all. He could tell it was dinnertime because he could hear them clattering dishes and smell not only their scent, but the aroma of roasting meat and frying chips that made his mouth fill with saliva and his stomach tighten with hunger. Lunch sucked and dinner was probably no different, but it was food and Dean was desperately hungry. And he wanted to get the hell out of there, but... he knew the other Omegas couldn't help him and probably wouldn't even want to talk to him, so he didn't want to get them in trouble by calling them names. So he stayed quiet and just listened to the hustle and bustle of the cooking and then the way all the Omegas slowly made their way upstairs.
"Go ahead. I'll be right up," he heard Charlie's voice. She was probably trying to arrange bowls of porridge or other food on a tray to make it easier to carry or something.
Most of the steps were already on the stairs when, to Dean's surprise, a pair of feet approached his door.
"That's all I got," Charlie said, and then a slice of toast slipped through the crack under the door.
Before Dean could say anything, like thank you, or even pick up the toast, he could hear Charlie moving quickly away from the kitchen. He listened for a few more seconds before grabbing the dry piece of dough and stuffing it into his mouth in two big bites. He should probably save it, but hell, even this one slice of hard bread was like manna from heaven for his clenching stomach.
He leaned against the door again, tucking his knee under his chin and gripping the chain that bound him to the floor. It was cold but real, and that was somehow comforting in the all-consuming darkness. He began to count the links, thoughts racing through his mind. He wondered about Sammy, where he might be now and if he was as badly off as he was. If he was... if someone had just laid a finger on him, then when he got out of here - and Dean knew he was going to get out of here, even if he had to smother the knotted fucker with a pillow in his sleep - he was going to find everyone who had hurt his little puppy and cut them down like a pig. And if he didn't... well, Dean hoped the family he'd found would be patient with his stupid hobbies and his weird diet and his desire to buy every damn charity badge he came across.
He remembered Case... his Alpha. That damn Knot, hanging around instead of coming to his aid. But as soon as he thought of that, he had to admit that thinking like that was stupid. Not only could he take care of himself and didn't need to be rescued like a princess, but he also understood that Cas couldn't just barge into Sun Hill and take him away. He wanted him to do it, but at the same time he didn't want to, because if he did... if Cas did something so obvious to get him to come to him, it would get him in trouble. He could end up in jail or worse, he could be deported and Dean didn't want any of that. He had to trust and believe that when the Alpha said he would take care of everyone, he would. He just had to be patient.
He also thought about the detectives from this afternoon. Could they have harmed Castiel? He hoped not. He'd done everything he could. He'd subjected himself to this doomed investigation, telling just enough truth with a few strategically placed lies to make the best of it for his Alpha. What did they really have on him? Just the mark on his neck, which shouldn't have been a problem, but probably was... well, kind of. Technically, as far as he knew, such a mark wasn't criminal. Or so he thought. If only he had a cell phone here, he could have googled it right away and had more peace of mind.
"Fuck it!" He cursed loudly and pounded the door with his fist. He felt frustrated, but at the same time, deep inside, he was scared. He never knew how to deal with his fear, so he did what he always did; he turned it into anger. He began to growl and slam his fist on the door over and over again. He didn't know how many times he did it, he only stopped when he felt tingling all over his hand and wetness on his knuckles where the skin cracked from the force of the blows and blood and lymph rolled out.
Then he rested his forehead against the wood, took his aching yet numb hand in his palm, and pressed both joined hands into his stomach.
"Oh yeah... I could go for a bacon burger..." he muttered to himself. "With a big helping of cheese fries and... pie! Cherry pie, two slices straight up. Or apple. Hell, even pecan." He grinned at another thought. "I'd even have a salad, Sammy. Damn lettuce, including those ridiculous sunflower seeds. What do you say, bro? Let's get together..."
Yeah, Sammy would like that. Dean over a big bowl of salad, which he eats without bullshit. He'd be happy and smell like sandalwood with something sweet.
He raised his injured hand to his lips and while he licked the blood and sucked the sore skin, he slowly moved to the other side of the chamber to the cool brick wall. He leaned against it. The chamber was stuffy, filled with foul smells, and the air was heavy and hot, but leaning against the cold bricks helped a little. So much so that he was able to ignore for a moment the smell of piss and shit that was stronger around the bucket than when he sat by the door. It came straight from him. Dean didn't have to think too hard to know what the bucket was for and just prayed in his mind that he could get out of here before he had to use it. Luckily, he had only had two glasses of water and so little to eat since that morning that he hadn't even been to the bathroom and didn't need to. He guessed that probably wasn't healthy, but he was glad for it.
He took his hand out of his mouth and focused on the strip of light under the door. It was only dim because the lights in the kitchen next door were off, but a little light came through from the microwave, refrigerator, coffee maker, and other appliances laid out on the counter. It was a small clue that reassured him that he wasn't blind, but the silence... the silence made him feel deaf. It was killing him, so he decided to fill it.
He cleared his throat and began humming classic rock ballads. He started with November Rain and got through Nothing Else Matters and Still Lovin' You to the first verse of Bed Of Roses when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
He knew it wasn't one of the Omegas. The footsteps were too heavy and confident. It was Evans.
Automatically, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his nail.
If the Knotcatcher opened the door and leaned towards him, he could drive the nail into his eye, push it all the way into his brain and... kill him with it. Could he have killed Evans? He was definitely one of those people who didn't deserve to live, but Dean didn't think he could kill him.
He dropped the nail and prepared for another defense instead.
He was so damn cowardly, but no, he just couldn't handle killing someone. He hadn't gone that far yet.
The lock on the outside of the door clicked, then rattled metallically as Alpha removed it from his eye, and finally he could hear the latch open. At that moment, Dean braced his hand on the floor and rose as high as the chain would allow, baring his small Omega fangs and showing all the defiance he felt.
The door opened and a blinding light hit his eyes. He didn't flinch or shield his eyes, just narrowed them and sucked in air. He could tell where his enemy was by his scent, he didn't even need to see him.
"Still an angry bitch, I see," the Alpha commented on his stance, reeking of bitter rage, making Dean expect another attack. But the Alpha leaned against the door frame and even leaned forward, almost close enough to catch him if he reached out. "The cop from this afternoon called and wants to talk to you. You'll have a chance to ingratiate yourself with me. I'll put her on the phone, and if you get rid of her, I'll let you sleep in your bed. If you give me one more hint, I'll lock you up down here for another week. Do you understand?"
The idea of staying here for days - and he certainly believed this bastard was capable of it - terrified him, and if the only way he could get out of here was to talk to... Ballard or whatever her name was, he was going to do it. The only problem was that he didn't know what he'd said before, that this crazy fucker thought it was inappropriate. But whatever... if nothing else for a few minutes, he would get out of this hellhole.
"Okay... Alpha."
Knot seemed satisfied with the answer, even smelling disgustingly sweet, probably pleased that Dean had called him 'Alpha', and reached into his pocket for his bunch of keys. It was the first time he'd had a chance to look at the keys the Alpha had used. There had to be at least one for this chamber and another for the locks on the chain. Then there had to be three or four from the Omega rooms, maybe one from his own room, one from the study, one from the classroom and one from the door to the basement. Finally, two from the two locks on the main door and several more from the padlocks that went on the latches on the main door. It was a hell of a lot of keys. And Dean was pretty sure that Knot always carried them with him. Getting them would make it easier to escape anyway.
The Alpha grabbed him by the ring on his collar and Dean tilted his head slightly to the side, which would make it easier to pick the lock. It clicked and he was more or less free, if the knot hadn't held his collar the whole time and then pulled him out of the chamber.
His legs tingled from sitting in various contorted positions for so long, mostly with his knees under him, but he was still glad to finally be on his feet. And in the light, too. Even after these few hours it was still bright and uncomfortable.
He didn't resist or protest as the knot took him by the ring on his collar again and led him up the steep wooden stairs next door and then immediately to the open office door. It was only the last step over the threshold itself that Dean took a little self-consciously, the sight of the desk bringing back unpleasant memories of lying bent over it a few hours ago and Alpha's nasty fingers groping his body.
Evans led him over to the table where his cell phone sat, and while still holding Dean by the collar, he lifted the phone from the table and put it to his ear. Dean strained his hearing, knowing he was close enough to hear what they were saying.
" Are you still there Detective Ballard?"
"Sure," the voice on the other side agreed. "You brought Dean to talk to me?" She asked, and Dean thought her voice sounded strangely sharp. Sharper than if she just spoke in a professional, police tone. But he could be wrong; after all, her voice was subdued.
" He's here with me. I'll give him to you, but please, just a quick," Knot said politely, and then, of course, he didn't hand the phone to Dean, just moved it away from his ear and turned on the speakerphone before looking at Dean meaningfully.
"Um... hello, Detective Ballard," Dean greeted, his voice a little hoarse from singing in the tiny room full of stale air for the last fifteen minutes or so.
"Hi, Dean," the Beta female greeted him, and this time he was sure her voice sounded friendly. "Are you alone?"
He glanced at the Knot standing next to him.
"Sure," he lied without blinking. "Do you have any more questions or anything?"
"No. No, I don't want to ask anything about the case, I just wanted to check on you," the detective replied pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"
He felt mostly angry and a little scared, but he couldn't say it out loud.
"You know..." he answered vaguely, then paused a bit. "Like, you don't, but you know what... preheating sucks. I'm tired, I'm sweaty, I'm hot, cramps suck too. I just want to curl up in a nest and go to sleep."
"I didn't want to bother you, but when I saw you today... Is everything okay, Dean? Do you feel comfortable and safe in the shelter?"
"It's a shelter. Isn't it great to be here..." - Evans bared his teeth in warning, his scent turning sour with rotten grapefruit - "And I don't want to stay here, I miss my brother, but I know I have to stay here, and that's okay. I don't miss anything here, and Alpha takes good care of us."
"Good, I'm glad to hear that," he said with a hint of relief, but he could still hear a certain wariness in her voice. Was it possible that she had some suspicions, and more importantly, that she wanted to do something about those suspicions? It flashed through his mind, and then he grinned to himself. It didn't matter what some cop thought. He didn't have the slightest reason to trust her anyway, and even if he did and took the risk of telling her everything right now, would she trust him? He doubted it. Who would trust a sixteen-year-old Omega with a troubled past? No, it was best to stay away from the cops.
"Is that all you wanted? Because if so, I'd like to go to bed. I'm tired."
"Yes, that's all. Maybe... how about I give you my number and email so you can call or text me?"
"I don't have my phone with me. I left it upstairs," he lied, acknowledging not only the sharp look in his temple, but also the tense silence on the other end of the line. "But I'm in Alpha's office. I'll find something to write on. Wait..." He paused, and during that pause exchanged a defiant look with Alpha, whose expression was not happy. Then he turned away again and spoke again. "Okay, dictate..."
The policewoman dictated his cell phone and two emails, one work and one personal, and told him they could chat on Whatsapp or Messenger, assuring him it would be easy to find her Facebook profile. She also offered him a Skype number, which he declined because the call was already unnecessarily long.
"I'm glad I could hear you and make sure you're okay, Omega. And call me whenever you want," she assured him at the end of the call before finally hanging up.
Evans checked that the call had indeed ended, put the phone in his pocket and then reached for Dean. He expected Knot to grab him by the collar and drag him away again, or by the back of his head and squeeze so hard it hurt, so it was a surprise when a cold hand landed on the back of his head and no pain came. Still, his Omega immediately recoiled in protest when this Alpha touched the back of her head. And the next moment she curled up into a ball and growled in rage and disgust as Dean smelled the sweet scent of the Alpha's happiness. And then the arousal that stung his nose, the fucking Alpha pressed his whole body against him and pushed him back to the edge of the table. Luckily with his ass this time, so Dean had his hands free to fight back and bite him.
He bared his teeth in a threatening growl.
"Still angry," the Alpha growled amusedly, grabbing him around the waist so that their crotches were pressed together.
"Touch me and I'll find a way to cut your knot and your balls off!"
Alpha's face darkened, but he didn't growl or show his teeth.
"You've been such a good little bitch for a while now. I thought I was going to give you what all bitches like you want tonight, but it looks like you'd rather stay locked in the closet," Knot said, baring his teeth in a mocking snarl.
Dean snarled back, his eyes fixed defiantly, but in his mind he felt happiness at the small victory, however unintentional. Yeah, being locked in the chamber sucked and he didn't want to stay there for days like the Alpha fucker had promised, but did he have to choose between taking his ugly knot up his ass tonight or being locked in absolute darkness and silence? Yeah, he definitely chose the latter. It was a hundred times better.
He didn't resist when the Knothead dragged him back to the kitchen and he didn't protest when he put the chain on his collar. And before the darkness engulfed him again, he gave Alpha Evans another defiant look.
°°0°°
The chamber was small and cramped, but Dean was used to sleeping in the back of the Impala with Sammy or in the same sleeping bag. So he didn't have much trouble getting comfortable with his back against one wall and his feet against the other wall. The bigger problem was the collar around his neck and the chain, and then the ever-present smell of bodily fluids, fear, and cleaning products. And the darkness and the silence. Yeah, the darkness was shit. Because the signs inviting him to cheap motels and 24-hour diners were always on, and their Alpha would never take a room in the back of a motel where their light couldn't reach. For one simple reason: so they could jump in the car and leave the motel in a flash.
So it was safe to say that he'd managed to get some sleep, although when the footsteps on the stairs woke him, his mouth was glued shut with thirst and there was an uncomfortable dull pressure in his head, like a mild hangover. At least his stomach had stopped hurting, he could only feel it tightening and feeling empty at the same time. What bothered him was the tingling in his lower abdomen and the familiar sticky feeling in his ass, only he didn't feel the least bit aroused and couldn't remember having a pleasant dream. Nor did he smell the scent of an aroused Omega, only the slick itself, which to his surprise was not the same. Could his heat have returned after the chemical shit he'd gotten? And what would the Knot do if his heat returned? He guessed he'd find out soon enough, because in addition to the footsteps of the other Omegas, Evans came down to the kitchen, and Dean somehow guessed he was going down there for him, not to help cook his own breakfast.
The lock clicked, the metal rattled, and the door creaked open.
The rush of light was blinding and the gust of air was refreshing again. This time he couldn't resist shielding his eyes with his forearm. He'd been in darkness too long. Nor the deep breaths he took in the fresh air, full of cardamom and grapefruit and the distant sweet smells of the other Omegas. Nor could he muster any defense beyond a slight baring of his teeth, for he felt uncomfortably numb.
He only grunted a little when Knot leaned down to unhook the chain from his collar. Then he grabbed him by the collar itself and pulled him out of the chamber as unsteadily as ever.
By this time, Dean's eyes had adjusted to the light, at least enough to see around. The other Omegas stood obediently in line, as if waiting for some kind of performance. But their faces were impassive, their heads ducked obediently and their eyes blank, except for Charlie, who was the only one to look up briefly and meet Dean's eyes, then quickly glance in Alpha's direction before lowering her eyes again.
"You've been nothing but trouble since you got here. You're a rude little bitch who can't be grateful for what I give him," Alpha started a stupid speech. "Now you're going to apologize to everyone here for your behavior by falling at my feet and kissing my boots."
Was the fucker joking? He looked at Knot almost in disbelief, but no, he wasn't joking. He was deadly serious, and when Dean looked up into his face without a hint of submissiveness or respect, he frowned in displeasure and bared his teeth.
"Fuck you!" He snarled. "You might as well put me back in the closet, because I'll never do that!"
Despite his defiance, and the fact that he raised his head in a pose completely inappropriate for an omega, back straight and chin out, the alpha didn't get angry. He didn't snarl or lunge at him like he had so many times before, instead a shy smile settled on his face.
"Oh no, I'm not putting you in the closet again, Omega," he said, only now grabbing the back of Dean's head, but only to pull his face closer so he could breathe mockingly into his face. "Until you do as I say, none of you will get a meal and you'll all be locked in your rooms. Do you hear me?" He asked louder, pulling away from Dean. "Not me, but him," he pushed him towards the other Omegas, "so you'll be hungry from now on."
Dean looked from face to face. None of the Omegas looked up or otherwise reacted to Alpha's words, but their muffled scents were filled with sour fear. It was enough to make him realize that the arrogant bastard was not only capable of doing such a thing, but had probably already done it. And he knew damn well that it would work on Dean, too. His Omega, reacting to the smell of the suffering of other Omegas and the thought that they would starve for him, whimpered, explicitly forcing him to submit. And he already knew that he would. He would bend over backwards and do what he swore he would never do, because he couldn't let others suffer for him and his damn pride.
He clenched his fists and jaw and slowly turned toward the Knot. He looked him in the eyes and he looked back. They measured each other for a moment before Dean forced himself to lower his eyes and relax his shoulders. The resistance to what he was about to do was immense, but he did it. He took a step closer and slowly sank to the cold tile. Almost everything in him rebelled as he leaned closer to the Alpha's boots, except for the sick part of his omega instincts that approved. Approved of him acting like a damn dog and cowering in front of the Alpha, because that was normal for Omegas. Fortunately, it was only a small part of his personality that he was able to suppress, and as his lips touched the leather surface of his black sneakers, he made a mental vow that one day, when the time was right, he would shove those sneakers down that Alpha fucker's throat for this.
The sickeningly sweet smell of happy Alpha tickled his nose, and when he lifted his head a moment later, a caressing hand landed in his hair. The knot began to work its way through his hair, purring contentedly.
"That's it, my little pussy," he purred contentedly. "See, you can behave yourself. Keep it up and I'll spoil you like I do everyone here."
Spoil? The asshole was out of his mind. None of the Omegas in this damn hellhole even got the basics they needed to live, let alone be spoiled.
"Now you can prepare a meal for all of us. And you, Omega," he addressed Dean directly, squeezing his hair a little tighter, "you can join us," the condescension itself agreed before patting Dean on the head like a dog and stalking out of the kitchen without anything else.
As soon as Alpha's back had disappeared around the corner, Dean was on his feet.
"Sonofbitch..." he spat.
"Why are you defying him?" she asked Savannah sharply.
He looked at her in surprise, not only because it was the first time she had spoken to him, but also because the question made no sense to him. How could she ask why he was acting like this when she'd been locked in that hole longer than he had?
"Because I'm not an animal that crawls around on the ground and walks around with a collar around my neck," he replied, tugging at the collar that sat heavily on his shoulders.
"You are an Omega. Start acting like one," Angelo roasted him.
"Omega or not, I'm a free man, an American and all that shit. Nobody has the right to tell me what to do or how to act.
"He's the Alpha. Alphas decide," Penny objected.
"Alphas? Maybe. The real ones who stand for something," like my Alpha or my dad, he added mentally, but didn't say it out loud. "Not stunted Knots like him."
"He's your Alpha, and you'll listen to him." Angelo stepped forward and pressed his fingers to Dean's chest, his head raised, his gaze sharp, his faint scent a mixture of sour fear and bitter anger. "You will do as he tells you. You'll crawl quietly on your knees all day long when he tells you to, presenting yourself to him like the rest of us here. You'll be his good little bitch. Understand?" He snarled, teeth bared so that Dean could see he was missing at least two molars and a small omega fang was riddled with decay. "Because if you don't..." This time he didn't poke with his finger, but pushed with full force, forcing Dean to step back and, of course, clench his own teeth in response to the aggression. "If you continue to resist, we'll make you submit, you got that... chica?" He finished mockingly, sticking out his chin. Dean returned the same and they sized each other up for a moment, both teeth bared and a low growl on their lips, before Angelo snorted and stepped back, turning to the others. "Go about your business," he ordered, and the Omegas obeyed.
Dean could easily overpower the other Omega and take his place as leader of this little Omega pack, and in fact he had a hundred urges to do so, but what would be the point? He didn't want to stay too long and he saw no reason to help the other Omegas if they didn't want to, so he just gave Angel a cold look.
Notes:
Dean is experiencing what's called "hidden heat." It is manifested by blood flow to the uterus, growth of endometrial tissue, and often the release of an egg from the ovarian follicle, but without the typical signs of heat. There can be several causes. It can be caused by a very poor lifestyle (both starvation and drastic diets, and in general very poor food choices; a high-calorie diet with little nutritional value), or by inappropriate suppressive drugs or their use at inappropriate times.
Suppressants need to be given at the lowest point of the hormonal cycle. This means seven to ten days after the last menstrual period. Suppressants are then taken either as pills every day, patches every week, or injections every month. And they work by keeping omega hormone levels low. So there's no egg maturation, no growth of endometrial tissue, and no heat.
...
Buy me a coffee
Chapter 53
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Breakfast was a bowl of hot porridge and a portion of Alpha's bullshit. This time it was about some changes in the traffic in the city, which meant the removal of parking spaces. It was supposed to improve road safety. Knot called it "neoliberal fiction" and put it right up there with too many freedoms for the Omegas. Listening to his pompous speech, Dean almost lost his appetite. He also noticed that little Sybill hadn't really finished her porridge and didn't look too good in general. Her face was pale, but her cheeks were a little flushed, her eyes watery and her lips dry. It was obvious to Dean, with his experience, that some sort of sickness was getting to her, but Knot either didn't notice or didn't care.
Dean did care. Sure, Angel's attitude pissed him off, but he'd have to be damned ashamed if he ignored a sick puppy just a few feet away from him. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it, so he did what little he could, taking over when she had to do the dishes and then sitting next to her and watching when they went into the classroom.
Evans didn't even bother pretending to teach them anything this time. He drew the blinds, set up the projector on the table, then ran some old photos and scanned yellowed documents from his laptop onto the board. And he began to talk about the history of his family and their house. He lumped his family in with the great families of New York and claimed that he and his ancestors had been cheated out of their property. Dean wasn't even sure if there were any founding families of New York, let alone if the Evans family could have been one of them, and he didn't care. He stopped listening to the Knot about five minutes into his speech, paying attention only to little Sybill, who seemed to be barely holding herself up in her chair. Most of the other Omegas tried not to look at her, except for Charlie, whose eyes darted from the board to Sybill to Dean and back again.
When Knothead finally let them go to make lunch, the other Omegas' demeanor changed a bit, and Penny made tea for little Sybill while Savannah did all the work for her so she could sit at the table in peace. It would have been best for her to crawl into bed under the warm covers, but that was probably out of the question.
Lunch consisted of potatoes and a pile of boiled peas. Evans ordered another steak. And just like the day before, the Omegas ate in silence while Knot preached about obedience and good manners. Dean cared even less about that shit than he did about his family history, and the only thing he paid attention to was the puppy sitting across from him who was having trouble swallowing his food. Sybill ate pea by pea, looking paler and paler with each mouthful, swallowing in a way he knew only too well.
He knew what was coming a moment before Sybill made a face and leaned to the side just in time to dump the contents of her stomach onto the floor instead of directly into her plate.
Knot fell silent mid-sentence, all the Omegas froze, and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.
Then a chair creaked as Evans stood up, and Dean immediately tensed as a wave of angry, bitter grapefruit cut through the air. Strangely, Knot didn't even growl, just slowly made his way along the table. Slowly he approached the puppy Omeza, and while everyone else bowed their heads, exposing their necks and trying to look as small as possible, Dean watched the Alpha with a wary eye, gripping the cutlery knife tightly. It was blunt, but if he could hit himself in the eye with it, it might be enough...
Evans stood over Sybill, who was huddled with her hands over her eyes, sobbing soundlessly. It was the sound of a puppy in distress that irritated Dean Omega so much that he ran in circles, whimpering, and all he wanted to do was get up and run to the endangered puppy's aid. And her scent, calling directly for help, was strong, despite whatever chemical shit he'd probably stuffed into her as well. If that was how he reacted, and he was good with his Omega, it must have been a much greater ordeal for the others. Still, it didn't seem like any of the other Omegas in the room wanted to rush to Sybill's aid. It was as if their instincts had been dulled by being here, or by the damn suppressives, or by fear.
"Dirty animal!" Alpha growled at last, grabbing the little Omega by the neck and dragging her face first to the ground in a puddle of vomit. "Look at this disgusting mess! Who do you think is going to clean it up for you, you stinking pig?! Lick it!"
That was too much. He didn't care what Knot did to him or if he went crazy with rage. What Dean hated with all his heart was the stronger taking on the weaker, and he especially hated it when Alphas did it. His Alpha father had always taught him to treat the weaker and more vulnerable with respect and to protect them. And to take care of the puppies and to be polite to the elders. And hell, even his omega wasn't willing to watch without reaction as he pushed the small, sobbing Sybill face first into her own vomit.
He stood up, knife in hand, and bared his fangs.
"Get your damn hands off her!" He snarled through bared teeth, instinctively assuming a pose typical of an Omega protecting his pup. A table separated him from Sybill, though, so it probably didn't have the desired effect. Nevertheless, the Alpha paused. First he looked up at him with an angry look, his irises turning red, and then he slowly straightened up, effectively letting the little Omega go.
"What did you just say, you stupid bitch?" He asked, baring his own fangs.
"I said..." He leaned his hand on the table and pointed the knife at the Knot. "Get your damn hands off her!"
He expected the Alpha to be pissed, because all Alphas hated that kind of behavior. What didn't come was a burst of rage. Knot didn't lunge across the table to knock him down. He just parted his lips in a combination of barbed teeth and toothy grin, and Dean knew he was in big trouble. But that didn't stop him from growling at the Alpha fucker again.
"DROP... the knife!"
The mixture of Alpha's voice and a normal tone of voice was unfortunately not very understandable, unlike the last time Evans had used Alpha's voice on him. And as much as he didn't want to, as much as he really tried to resist, the force of Alpha's voice pulled his Omega to the surface, and he barely had time to realize it before the grip of his fingers around the knife's blade loosened and the sound of metal hitting wood echoed.
Dean stepped back. The Alpha took a step in his direction. Dean began to retreat further and further, his back hunched and his teeth bared, his gaze, mostly fixed on the approaching enemy, also wandering around the room. He was looking for a weapon or a way to escape. There was nothing really heavy to attack with, and he might not even make it before Alpha's voice stopped him. He couldn't count on anyone to help him, because the Omegas he dared to look up to didn't look helpful, just shocked at what he had allowed himself to do. Jumping through the window seemed to be the only option, and he was already determined to do it, if the Alpha hadn't blocked his way with his own body. Then there was the front door, but it was locked, and the windows in the living room.
He didn't wait for anything. He turned on his heel and took off.
He knew this wasn't the best idea. Nothing irritated an Alpha more than a fleeing Omega, but he saw it as the only way out of this damn hole.
He ran out into the hallway and had almost reached the door frame when he heard a menacing growl behind him and felt the collar dig into his neck. It was a brutal pain that left him breathless, and the thought that his hyoid might have burst flashed through his mind. That would be the end of it. He would suffocate before the ambulance arrived, if the Knot even called one. He almost doubted it. At least he'd get out of this fucking hell, he thought bitterly as he fell backwards.
He found himself on the floor. Then the Alpha slammed him across the floor. The carpet crumpled under his butt. Dean hooked the fingers of one hand into the collar as hard as he could, trying to relieve the pressure on his throat. With the other, he fumbled blindly for the railing posts. He managed to catch himself, at least for a moment. Fucking Knot yanked on the collar again with such force that the leather dug into Dean's throat again, causing a gurgling sound and a stream of spit to shoot from his throat. He desperately grabbed the collar with his other hand as well. Now he was really afraid that he would die here. For real, not like a few seconds ago when it had been a bitter joke. The Alpha had dragged him to the basement door before he noticed, and he managed to spot the stairs as he swung them toward him, guessing what he was up to, letting go of the collar just in time to protect his head and curling up into a ball.
In fact, he didn't even feel where the edges of the stairs hit him as he rolled down them into the basement. It was too fast for him to register anything, but he felt the final blow to his elbow as he hit the wooden floor perfectly. And then he exploded in pain in several places. In his left hip, his left shoulder, and his right knee.
He didn't just lie there helplessly where he landed. Even though it hurt, he immediately began to move. He got down on all fours and checked to make sure he hadn't dislocated any joints or broken anything. Everything hurt in the dull, lingering way he knew from a simple beating, not the sharp pain of a freshly broken bone. And when he tried to get to his feet, he managed, only his right knee hurt so badly that it half gave out on him.
He quickly looked behind him and saw Alpha slowly descending the stairs. The bastard was so confident, he wasn't even in a hurry.
Dean's eyes went to the kitchen. Even from a distance he could see pans that could be used as weapons. With a quick limp he started towards them, but he already felt that he had no chance to get there in time. He made it as far as the table, though, before he felt a hand at the back of his neck, pulling him into Alpha's firm grip.
"You'll never see the light again after this!" Alpha hissed in his ear, throwing him and the chamber against the wall in one fell swoop.
He flew into the small room, slamming sideways into the back wall, knocking over the bucket and the chain biting painfully into his bruised side. He rose to his knees, grabbed the damn chain, and prepared to whack Alpha over the head with it as he leaned over to tie him up. Only the Knot didn't.
He just slammed the heavy wooden door with all his might and the next thing he knew, the metal creaked and the lock clicked.
Dean was alone again.
In the darkness and the silence.
°°0°°
He spent the rest of the day raging at what had happened, at his own incompetence, and at the pain that coursed through his body. His knee was especially pissed off, not only hurting like hell, but also swelling up a bit. He knew that it wasn't entirely the fall down the stairs that was to blame, but his own stupidity. Half a year ago, when they were somewhere in Iowa climbing into a cute Omega's room, his foot slipped on a roof tile and he didn't land like he should have, bruising his knee when he hit the ground. The same one he hit when he fell down the stairs. If he hadn't been doing stupid things like climbing on rooftops like a damn monkey - that's what their Alpha had called it back then - his knee might not hurt so much now.
He spent the night restlessly, waking up again and again, maybe a little afraid that the Alpha fucker would actually leave him here until he died, but mostly from the damn pain. He couldn't find a position that was comfortable enough for a longer sleep. Finally, probably sometime in the morning, he felt like going to the bathroom. He made it through breakfast and then an estimated hour or two that he filled with singing - eventually he had to stop, his mouth got too dry and his thirst became really uncomfortable - but then he couldn't go any further and had to use the bucket. It wasn't that he didn't know how to piss in a bottle when they didn't have time to stop or the weather was bad outside or it was dark and he was afraid to get out of his sleeping bag, but the bottle could be unscrewed and thrown out of the car. He didn't have to spend hours in the smell of his own fresh piss. And it certainly wasn't as humiliating as when he decided to use the bottle himself.
It was past lunchtime. He could hear the other Omegas walking around outside, occasionally exchanging a few words, and he could hear them talking about little Sybill, who was apparently locked in a room without food because she'd thrown up yesterday. Not only because of his dad's manners, but also because of his omega instincts, he growled loudly, and his omega was half angry and half sorry that there was a suffering puppy somewhere nearby that he had no way to help.
And then it was quiet again for a while, until he heard someone's light footsteps outside the door and the sound of cupboards opening, dishes clattering and water running. Someone had entered the kitchen. Unfortunately, he could only make out that it was one of the Omegas and not an Alpha. But he couldn't tell which one. Their scent, weakened by the suppressants, was lost in the stench of fresh urine.
"Dean...?" Charlie's voice came from behind the door.
"Charlie...is that you?" He asked, moving to the door and pressing his ear to the wood.
"Yes. And I brought you something to drink," he said, which confused Dean a little. How was she going to get him a drink? A slice of bread might fit through the crack under the door, but definitely not a bottle or a glass. Maybe a bottle cap, and hell, even if it was just a cap, he'd be grateful. His tongue stuck to his palate, his lips were chapped and sore, and his voice was hoarse.
Something moved for a moment in the strip of light under the door, and then a straw slid across the floor. A straw! The girl was a bloody genius! Yeah, he had to bend all the way down and suck hard, probably because there had to be at least two straws connected and the water level was somewhere above his mouth, but damn! That was great too. And it didn't matter that it was tap water that tasted like rust. He loved it! He'd even love puddle water.
"Don't drink so fast. You might throw up," Charlie warned him.
Of course she was right. The basics of survival. Finding water, and then if there's no water and you go a long time without it, you don't want to drink too much water too fast, even if you're very thirsty. Especially if you haven't eaten anything.
"I know. Thanks," he thanked her for more than just the water, leaning his cheek against the wood. "I don't suppose you have anything to eat, do you...?" He tried hopefully.
A piece of bread slipped under his door. He grabbed it and started to take a bite, whereupon he paused and took Charla's advice; don't gobble. He tore off a small bite, popped it into his mouth, and began to slowly chew. It was bloody hell, the mere realization that he had food in his hand caused his stomach to wake up and the feeling of hunger to intensify, but he really didn't want to throw up.
"This is all I can give you. Someone might notice."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for that too. I thought I was going to starve and die of thirst here," he replied with a small grin in his voice.
"He'll give you water and food eventually. When someone is locked up here, they do that every two or three days. He hasn't kept anyone in the closet for more than two weeks," he pointed out, whereupon she paused for a moment before speaking again, "You didn't listen to him and you protected Sybill. Why are you doing this?"
He grinned. He wasn't surprised that she asked him that. All the Omegas here were obedient, including Charlie, and one as disobedient as he was just attracted attention. It was just that Dean hated Knots as much as Evans, he just couldn't help himself. Sure, there was always a tiny part of him that urged him to submit to the Alpha - that probably meant being an Omega, unfortunately - but in reality it was mostly his own inner Omega that didn't want to submit. When he looked at it with a little rational thought... it was almost as if the Alphas he had met just weren't good enough, weren't his Alpha dad or Uncle Bobby and... and they weren't Castiel. They weren't really strong Alphas capable of anything, and so they just weren't enough for Dean to make puppies... He sounded a little cocky, after all, he wasn't much of a prize, too broad in the shoulders, too narrow in the hips, rude, a little short-tempered, he didn't have any patience either, and he wasn't the sharpest pencil in the pack, but yeah... that was exactly what his stupid Omega thought. Alphas weren't good enough until he met his Alpha. His case. The damn former hit man and Russian mob boss who could kill with his bare hands as easily as he could pour himself a drink. Great, Winchester, you really do have normal taste.
"I hate Knots like Evans and I will never give in to them. And I hate it when someone hurts the defenseless. Yeah, and I'm also a little bit of a street bastard," he added half-jokingly, taking another small bite and shrugging, even though the other Omega couldn't see him.
On the other side, it had been so quiet for so long that he would have thought Charlie had left if he hadn't seen her shadow under the door.
"You want to get out of here?" He asked finally.
"I definitely don't plan on staying here," he agreed.
"I ran away before," she said, much to his surprise and some disappointment; she had run away and yet here she was again, staying. "My parents died when I was fourteen, and I've been on the streets ever since. I was able to take care of myself because I'm really good at computers. Everything went wrong when I was hit by a car. I had a broken leg, and that's why Child Protective Services was able to get me. Then they brought me here and .... I wasn't sure at first because I was just in my room, but from the first moment I didn't like this place. Something was wrong. Then, when I was well enough to walk, I found out what Evans really was and ran away the same day. I was unlucky. After a few days, I was caught and brought back. And I've been here ever since."
"You couldn't escape again," he said rather than asking.
"No, I could have escaped."
That didn't make sense. If Charlie could escape, and she was sure she could, then why hadn't she run away already? Or why hadn't she at least tried? What kind of fool would want to stay here? Maybe an Omega who had become addicted to Evans and started to... sympathize with him. That shit happens. It was a kind of syndrome... yes, Stockholm Syndrome! Betas could suffer from it, but Omegas were prone to it. Charlie didn't seem to suffer from it. Could she have had a real reason to stay here?
"Then why are you still here?"
It was quiet again for a while on the other side, before there was a shuffling sound as the other Omega shifted so that her back was against the door, and then a small sigh, accompanied by a wave of sadness so intense that it could drown out the smell of fresh piss.
"There was this girl, her name was Gilda, and she was really wonderful and beautiful. She had waist-length wavy hair and beautiful brown eyes and breasts... just like in a hand, you know?" she said with a laugh. "But she wasn't just pretty, she was...you just had to get to know her. She was a mix of gentle elf and strong, sexy warrior. She took care of me the whole time my leg was broken..." she paused again.
Dean waited a moment to see if she would continue, and when she remained silent, he spoke.
"What happened to her?"
"I don't know," Charlie replied simply. "She was going to be eighteen by the time I got here, so we agreed that I would wait to escape until she was out and we could set up a place for us to live together, but... A few days before she was finally supposed to get out of this Raven Valley, she just... disappeared. One day we were in the backyard planning our life together, and the next morning the Sith Lord told us she'd run away and forbade us to speak of her."
"You don't think she ran away?"
"No. She would not have run away without me," the other Omega confirmed his assumption. "I think he sold her. I saw her leave the room that night. He must have taken her in the trunk, because I didn't see that he had her with him."
"Is that why you're staying here? To find out what happened to your girlfriend?"
"Yes, and as much as I hate to say it, I need your help," she agreed, and from the shadow moving under the door, it was obvious that she had turned to face the door. "The Dark Lord has a laptop, but it's still in his office, and it's locked when he's not there. I can hack into his computer and see if there's anything on Gilda, but I can't get into the office. But I think you can, right?"
"You're asking if I can pick the lock?" He repeated, snorting a little. "Who do you take me for? Of course I can break in. Just given the chance and some time."
"Great! Let's team up and be like Hermione and Ron. I'll be Hermione, the Omega with the big brain, and you'll be Ron."
"Why do I have to be Ron?" He asked cranky. I didn't particularly like the idea of him being a skinny, freckled boy and a Beta.
"You can be Harry if you want."
"Great! Even better..." he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take Ron," he grumbled, popping the last piece of bread into his mouth. "To get you into his office, I have to get out of here first. Let's say we wait until he lets me out, and then what? What if you can't find anything about your girlfriend on his laptop? Do we run away together? What about everyone else? And this fucking place? I don't think we can all escape together."
"If we get out of here, we can tell the police what's going on," Charlie suggested naively.
He snorted.
"We're Omegas, even troubled Omegas. And he's an Alpha. Guess who the police and everyone else would rather trust?"
There was another silence on the other side, which lasted longer before Dean heard the other Omega rest his head on the door and felt a whiff of sour fear.
"I think his laptop has evidence of what he's doing to the Omegas here," she finally spoke. "Sometimes he films us, especially when he comes up with some creative punishment and... and other things. He must have the videos somewhere."
Dean opened his mouth in initial confusion at the 'other things' before realizing and closing it. He could vividly imagine what Charlie had in mind and immediately felt anger. And his Omega growled quietly. He'd always had this stupid need to take care of and protect the people around him, probably because he was an Omega and felt that way, even though he rationally knew it wasn't his problem.
"Son of a bitch...!" He snarled through bared teeth.
"Yes, he is, and you and I are the only ones who can stop him. Are you with me?"
"Yeah, I'm in. Absolutely," he agreed. "But I don't want to spend another day here. We'll do it as soon as I get out of this hole. Here's my plan..."
Notes:
Chapter 54
Notes:
Winter Sun has crossed the incredible threshold of one thousand kudos. I never expected something like this to happen, and I want to thank everyone who gave WS kudos. Also, thanks to everyone who comments and of course the silent readers who read. It is also great to see the views coming in after each chapter is posted!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"You said it was a matter of days, and now you say it could be months?" Castiel asked, barely keeping his Alpha from moving forward and biting Shurley's throat. Rationally, he knew that killing this little Jew would accomplish nothing. It wouldn't ensure that he would get his Omega back. He would also have to find a new trustworthy lawyer and somehow explain why such a publicly known person associated with him had disappeared somewhere overnight. No, killing Shurley wouldn't help, but breaking a few fingers or pulling a few teeth... His Alpha grunted in agreement. Pain could motivate people very well.
"Yes, that's what I said, Alpha, but that was before the situation got so dramatically complicated," the lawyer replied. "You must understand that Omega Winchester is now under an order of protection because he is considered a minor victim of a crime. Until the investigation is officially referred to a court, adjourned, or otherwise concluded, it is unlikely that a judge will agree to Alpha's custody. Especially if you request it," he pointed out in a way Castiel didn't like. Especially the tone.
"Until a few days ago, I was an ideal candidate."
"That was before you put him up in your apartment, gave him access to your accounts, and appeared with him in public. Under the conditions, it's only a matter of time before you become an official suspect. According to my sources, you are already a person of interest..."
He narrowed his eyes at the lawyer, who not only looked, but spoke with complete authority. As if he didn't owe Castiel everything he had now. For a house in a good neighborhood, for silk shirts and tailored shoes, for expensive luxury sports cars, and for all the opportunities the life Castiel had given him. The little Jewish worm had grown too much of a comb-over. Maybe he even thought they were Castiel's equals. It was time to remind him of his place.
Slowly, he put the burning cigarette in the ashtray and stood up.
He noticed Yuri getting up from the sofa and Boris putting down his glass and starting to walk along the bar in their direction. He didn't pay much attention to them, though, just walking slowly in front of Shurley, checking his every move and keeping his eyes on him.
"Are you saying this is my fault?" He asked, baring his teeth a little this time.
The lawyer's expression, which up until that moment had only been a little cautious, quickly changed. Uncertainty and incipient fear joined the caution. Shurley jerked his head a little, as if to resist the urge to lower his head and show his neck, but then he gave in to the urge, dropping his shoulders and tilting his head to the side, revealing a bit of throat with a pulsing vein hidden behind a perfectly starched collar.
Castiel's Alpha grunted in approval and flashed his teeth in a pleased grin from the corner of his mind. He liked this much better. As this small, oddly smelling Omega bowed, as all Omegas and Betas and Alphas owned by Castiel were supposed to do.
"No, of course not, Alpha," the lawyer said quickly, his head still bowed, but his eyes wandering to Castiel with every other word, always letting their gaze linger for a few seconds. "But I'm your lawyer. You are paying for my services and advice. I have no control over what happens if you choose not to follow my advice."
"Da, da. I understand you, Shurley," he stretched with ease, almost a purr, placed one hand on Shurley's shoulder and began to adjust his tie with the other. The little Jew froze at first, but when he got the impression that he was in no danger from Castiel, he relaxed and actually looked up, a kind of relieved smile on his lips. Castiel returned both the look and the smile, turning it into a snarl and baring his teeth at the same time he grabbed the tie with his other hand and yanked it sharply. The knot bit into Shurley's neck.
The lawyer grunted in horror, one hand grabbing his collar and the other desperately clutching Castiel's wrist. His grip was surprisingly tight for someone so small and obviously weak, but apparently not enough to hurt the Alpha. Not when Castiel had all that solid Alpha muscle and hard bone that only another Alpha or an industrial press could break. It was just amusing. His inner Alpha grunted with pleasure at his prey's desperate defense, and Castiel enjoyed seeing the little man's frightened face again.
"But you must understand me." He continued to hold him tightly, enough to choke off his air supply, but not enough to make Shurley lose consciousness. "My Omega, my Mate, has been gone for five days now, and this is very frustrating for my Alpha. I have no patience for your incompetence, much less your insolence." He leaned forward so that his lips almost touched the lawyer's ear. "I expect you to see that my property is returned to me, but if you don't... I'll be forced to find another lawyer, and neither of us wants that. Isn't that right?" He asked, pulling back enough to look Shurley in the face.
"Nee...don't-want to," the Jewish goblin grunted through his tie-wrapped windpipe, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye and a whiff of fear finally breaking through all the layers of disgusting chemical perfume he used to cover his scent.
Castiel's nostrils flared as he sucked in air.
"I'm glad we understand each other...malen'kaya Omega," he added as he let Shurley go, watching with amusement the look of surprise that crossed the lawyer's face and was reflected in his eyes, which he quickly raised to Castiel's, even as he gasped for a good dose of fresh air to enter his lungs.
He might as well have taken advantage of America's absurd laws and had his secondary gender removed from all his documents, he might as well have ground his teeth, used blockers and probably suppressants, and covered himself in a liter of fruity perfume, but it was no use. A true Alpha always knew an Omega, Castiel not included, even if he didn't like the smell of Omegas. Except Dean's.
"I assume," he turned away from the lawyer, taking a cigarette from the ashtray and taking a drag before continuing, letting the smoke pass between his words, "that you now have some ideas on how to get my Omega back. Am I right?" He turned to Shurley with a question, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"We should... um... go to the police," came from the pale lawyer, nervously adjusting his overly tight tie and rumpled shirt.
Castiel narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. Maybe he'd strangled Omega too much.
"Why?"
The lawyer slowly turned to him, but didn't look him directly in the eye.
"It's a matter of... um... your reputation," Shurley began to explain. "You have an impeccable reputation, and impeccable people cooperate with the police, of course... errm... with the proper assistance of their lawyers. If you go to the police before you are officially summoned, it will appear that you are helpful and cooperative and that you have nothing to hide. And that will be our official position. You have nothing to hide. You and Omega Winchester know each other, you've met several times, and you're True Mates, but there is no relationship of an inappropriate nature between you."
"I see," he nodded, reached for a pack of cigarettes on the bar, opened it, tapped on the pack, and then pulled one of the cigarettes out with his mouth, which popped out. Finally, he used the cigarette butt in his fingers to light a match, then extinguished it in the nearly full ashtray. "Will this help me in the process of mastering my Omega?"
"First and foremost, we need to keep you out of jail."
Although he had never been in prison, he had no fears, but Shurley was right. It was in the Bratva's best interest to keep him free. After all, the fact that he had an unblemished record and could safely oversee both their illegal and legal operations was a credit not only to luck and his own abilities, but to the entire Brotherhood. He owed them his own good reputation, and if keeping it meant secretly cooperating with the police bitches, he would do it.
"All right. When?"
"As soon as possible. Tomorrow would be best," the lawyer suggested, obviously not wanting to waste any time.
"I'll pick you up at your office tomorrow afternoon. And Shurley..." He approached the little lawyer, who immediately slumped down and ducked his head obediently. "If your plan doesn't work out, I'll hold you personally responsible," he snapped at him, noting that he really had to try hard.
Then he walked past him and went behind the bar to the office. Boris made a move to follow him, so he gave him a scythe look and stopped him with a wave of his hand. He wanted a moment alone. Everything inside him was boiling with anger, he felt frustrated and... worried about Dean. Real fear. And it was such a strange feeling. He remembered it, but he wasn't sure when he had felt it the last time. When was the last time he had cared so deeply for someone that his throat physically tightened when he thought of how far away his Omega was from him.
He stepped through the mirrored door behind the bar and into the small hallway. The first door on the right led to the supply room, the next to the hallway leading to the elevators, and the last to a small office. He went to the last one and blew a puff of smoke as he opened the door.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a sigh. His eyes closed on their own as he took another deep drag on his cigarette. He vaguely calculated that this was his twenty-fifth of the day, and it wasn't even six in the afternoon. His resolve to smoke in moderation, to balance his love of nicotine and his desire to dull his sense of smell with his ailing lungs, had at some point disappeared... he grinned bitterly. Sometime a few days after he'd first met his Omega. Not having him around was agonizing at times. His Alpha would stop at irregular intervals and growl in desperate need of his Omega. In those moments, Castiel wanted nothing more than to go after Dean and quietly and violently abduct him, just so he could lock him in his lair where he belonged. He could only quench that need with a cigarette, as well as his current fear.
He took another drag, this time holding the smoke in his lungs as far away as possible, even though it burned and his lungs protested against such treatment. At the same time, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He began to blow the smoke slowly between his almost pursed lips and opened a conversation with Dean. Omega's last message said he was being taken to an Omega shelter called Sun Hill. It wasn't hard to look up the place and make sure it was in Crowley's territory, which meant he could give him the protection of his men. That was also the last thing he wrote to Dean, an assurance that he would still have his men nearby and that Omega would have to wait a few days at most before he could get him out. He didn't get an answer. He didn't get one the next day. He didn't get one until now.
Five bloody days of silence. His Dean had never been silent for so long. A steady stream of unrelated messages came from him. Complaints about teachers and classes. Observations about TV shows and movies that Castiel had finally stopped googling because Dean couldn't talk about them for five minutes. Links to music, pictures of old cars and motorcycles, or just messages full of emoticons. A message from his Omega was waiting on his phone when he woke up, and they were often Dean's last words to read before he closed his eyes and at least tried to sleep. And the day's stream of beeping and vibrating phones had literally become a part of his life.
The silence that followed after the Sun Hill door closed behind Omega was killing and warning. His Dean would never shut up for days unless something happened to him.
Yes, he could blame it on his heat, which must have come a long time ago, but that didn't make him feel any better. His Omega, his Mate, whom he had to take care of, was far away from him during his time. And that made him angry for many reasons. He was failing in his duty as Alpha, his Dean was having to suffer alone, and on top of that, Castiel's instincts were kicking in full force, and his inner Alpha was partly furious and partly confused as to where his Mate was and where the promised Omegas heat and future pups were. Ever since he had felt Dean's preheat, he had felt like a horny dog. Just the thought of Omega was enough to make his cock stand at attention and, more importantly, not want to go down. His mouth filled with saliva that smelled of his own Alpha scent and his gums itched and ached as his fang tried to sell themselves. And more than once he woke up in the night with his fangs out and a wet spot of saliva on his pillow. This hadn't happened to him since puberty, and it was getting worse with each passing day as Dean's heat approached.
In fact, it had gotten to the point where he preferred to stay away from Omega so that he could safely fulfill his promise to make Dean's first heat with him memorable. If only he hadn't... If he had taken Dean to his lair instead, his Omega would have been safe the moment Child Protective Services came for him. Then Dean Winchester would have simply disappeared and someone else would have turned up, an eighteen-year-old young Omega who had nothing to do with Dean Winchester and was happily living in Castiel's apartment.
He drew on his cigarette so hard and deep that the hot tip licked the filter. Damn it! He needed another, but his aching lungs had other ideas. They needed a break, so he took a few steps to a nearby small bar table and poured himself a full glass from the nearest decanter. He turned it over in his face and immediately grinned in disgust. It was one of Balthazar's French wine liqueurs, which tasted like lime wine twisted into a bottle and spiked with a few shots of cheap vodka. He hated that stuff.
When he poured himself another glass, he took a good look at what he was drinking and was pleased to see that it was bourbon. He sipped it a little more slowly now, savoring its pleasantly warm taste and texture, while his mind wandered back to that oh-so-beautiful plan to simply change Dean's identity.
It was tempting, but impossible now, and even before, it would have meant taking a permanent risk he couldn't afford. Anything that went had to be done legally. To carefully hide their business in a maze of laws and under mountains of bureaucracy. So deep that even police pigs would have trouble digging through. And nothing, not even his Omega, was allowed to jeopardize that. He was already on thin ice, and the accusation hanging over him could at least be a complication, but theoretically it could break his neck.
Slowly, he walked over to the sofa, sat down, and while he sipped from his glass, he glanced at the aquarium on the opposite wall.
Brightly colored fish intertwined and circled around the tank, the filter hummed quietly, and the air blower released a thin stream of fine bubbles into the water, stirring the aquatic plants that were slightly covered by the air. The lighting from the aquarium was the only light in the room, except for a thin strip of ice above the floorboards, and it gave the office a soothing feel. Not that it worked particularly well. Castiel's Alpha was as restless as an animal trapped in a cage that was too small, and this small room with no windows and only one door actually had the opposite effect than at other times. It didn't feel safe, it felt like he was trapped in here. Trapped and unable to leave and get his Omega back.
His lips curled as a growl escaped his throat. Then Castiel stretched and threw the glass containing the rest of the alcohol against the far wall. The glass shattered against the orange wall just inches from the aquarium, leaving a wet spot.
Castiel watched as the moisture ran down the wall.
It didn't really help.
With a sigh, he slid down the sofa, closed his eyes, and covered them with his forearm.
He wanted his Omega back and he would get it back. And if he couldn't do it any other way, then by any means necessary.
°°0°°
"...and then asked her if she had voluntarily taken the drink from the defendant. Can you believe that?" Ari asked indignantly. "Maybe she wants to take the interrogation back twenty years to a time when everyone asked the victim what she was wearing. Even if she took a whole bottle of gin from him, that doesn't justify him beating her, tying a stocking around her neck and raping her twice."
"I've stood up to Conley before. She has no regard for victims, she's tough, and she's Alpha," Diana pointed out, frowning a little at the memory of the tall Alpha woman who smelled of chamomile and washing soda. And she took the last sheet of paper from the photocopier. Digitization, as administered by the police department, had been the way of things for the last fifteen years, so everything had to be not only recorded in a computer database, but also, as usual, made into several paper copies and stored in a central archive next to the evidence for the unsolved cases.
"What about your case? I hear there's someone with a high profile..." Ari suggested, taking a sip of her pleasantly smelly herbal tea.
"Alpha Novak. A businessman from Russia."
"The Omega he bought?"
"Possibly. Alpha John Winchester seems like the type who would sell his Omega son in a heartbeat," she agreed, folding the paper into a folder before tucking it under her elbow and turning directly to Ari. "He hasn't worked anywhere in years, pays no taxes, and has a lot of debt. Twelve years ago, his Omega Mate was murdered and the house they lived in burned down. Alpha Winchester was suspected of both the murder of his wife and the burning of the house, but nothing was proven against him. The evidence was only suggestive, so the insurance company did not pay out. Alpha Winchester is behind on his mortgage. He needs money, a lot of money, and Alpha Novak has money."
"Will you summon Novak?"
"No, we plan to visit him tomorrow. The captain wants us to be careful and discreet. Novak is a big shot and well connected. One of those Alphas who wouldn't come to the police station voluntarily."
"Well... I'm not so sure about that," Ari pointed out, her gaze flickering over Diana's shoulder; Diana frowned in incomprehension. "Something tells me that," she nodded somewhere behind Diana, "would be Alpha Novak."
Diana turned and her eyes immediately fell on the two men who were coming towards them between the tables. There was no doubt that the taller one, with dark hair and striking blue eyes, was the Alpha. He walked upright, his head held high, the epitome of confidence, but at the same time his eyes scanned the room as Alphas were wont to do when they entered foreign territory. But even this slight show of caution did nothing to diminish the aura of strong Alpha dominance he radiated around him.
The other man was considerably shorter, and though he walked ahead of the Alpha, he certainly didn't give the same dominant impression, though he too exuded a confidence that was accentuated by the expensive suit and briefcase that fancy lawyers carried.
Even if Diana hadn't seen the photo of Alpha Novak, she could easily guess that this Alpha and his lawyer were not typical visitors to the Special Victims Unit.
Novak's lawyer made eye contact with her, quickly sweeping his eyes over her, and finally smiled a polite, friendly smile and walked straight toward her. Diana returned his gaze, but noticed that Peter had picked himself up, moved to her side, and assumed a typical protective Alpha pose. It wasn't particularly noticeable, but it was supported by the protective Alpha scent that tickled her sensitive nose.
"I don't think I'll be in your way here," Ari remarked as she quickly made her way to her seat.
Novak and his lawyer stopped directly in front of them. Diana took a deep but subtle breath. While the chemical scent of a fruity perfume came from the lawyer, under which even her Beta-sensitive sense of smell couldn't detect any hint of the secondary gender, there was a distinct Alpha scent wafting from Novak. Some fruit, perhaps cherries, and something bitter, both enriched by a heavy and intense musky scent. It was more than obvious that Novak wasn't using blockers, as the regular use of blockers caused a reduction in the functionality of his scent glands. Alphas and Omegas who used blockers had a weaker scent, even if they weren't using blockers at the time. This Alpha not only didn't feel the need to come to the police station with blockers, but something told Diana that he was proud of his scent and was one of those who took great care to make his scent as intense as possible.
"Hello. Detectives Ballard and Sheridan?" He asked, deliberately searching for Peter with his eyes as he said Diana's name. An old trick to give the impression that the lawyer wasn't as capable as he wanted to appear. Something along the lines of, how could someone who mixed up names be any good?
"I'm Alpha Sheridan and this is my Beta colleague Detective Ballard."
"Ah... my mistake. I'm sorry," the lawyer replied innocently. "I'm Chuck Shurley of Shurley and Edlund, and this is my client Alpha Novak. I understand that you are investigating a case involving Omega Winchester and that you probably have some questions for my client. Am I right?"
He and Peter exchanged a brief look.
"Yes, we should have some."
"Excellent! Then we can get right to it..." he let Shurley sound lost and looked questioningly first at Peter and then at Diana.
"Sure. Follow me," Peter urged them and walked towards the interrogation rooms.
Shurley followed without hesitation, but Alpha Novak remained standing, looking Diana straight in the eye. His gaze was... cold. Devoid of any emotion, yet strangely penetrating, as if he could see right into her mind. And full of Alpha dominance, but not the pleasant kind she saw in Peter's eyes and in his demeanor that made her, even as a Beta, submit to him and give her a sense of security. There was something fierce about it, something she saw in the eyes of Alpha criminals. There was no better or more accurate way to describe it.
Suddenly, the Alpha's deep blue eyes snapped open and he cocked his head to the side in a sort of birdlike manner, his gaze fixed on Diana's chest. He stared at her without a shred of courtesy, but also without any lascivious interest. That didn't make his gaze any more pleasant, no, but it made her think that he wasn't looking at her breasts, but at something on her clothes. She automatically lowered her eyes to check for a stain on her blouse. No, her blouse was clean and properly buttoned, and the only thing that could have attracted Novak's attention was her pendant.
She unconsciously straightened it and then motioned with her hand.
"After you, Alpha," she said politely.
Alpha made no reply, just turned and walked over to Shurley and Peter, who were waiting for them. Diana stayed two steps away and then completed the procession. They had to walk all the way through the office to get to the interrogation rooms, giving Diana a chance to put down the papers she was carrying and grab her tablet from her desk. The entire file, including photos and everything they knew about Dean and Novak, was on it.
She did a quick search for Dean's case on it and then hurried to join the others in the interrogation room.
They had several of them. One was for questioning victims and witnesses, so it was comfortably furnished, with muted colors and large windows looking out. And when they had the sad duty of interrogating really young children, there was a rug and a children's table and chairs in the corner where you could bring pencils and some toys and create a safe environment for the little victim. Then there were three other rooms, small, sparsely furnished, with one-way glass, used for interrogating suspects. Peter headed for one of them in particular, the one that looked the least like an interrogation room from a detective story, as it had fairly comfortable upholstered chairs, an unbarred window, and no handcuff holders. Still, it was enough of a prison-looking place to make the average person nervous.
Peter opened the door and let the other Alpha and his lawyer in first, then went in after them. Diana was again the last to go, and as she closed the door she noticed that the Captain had come out of his office, and from the look he gave her it was clear that he was determined to follow the interrogation.
"Please have a seat," Peter said the moment Diana closed the door behind her, separating them from the bustle of the department.
Alpha Novak glanced around the room and then, without hesitation, chose a seat at the table in the center of the room and sat down with the same ease as if they were on his own turf and perhaps even in his lair. He showed no signs of being unnerved by the interrogation room, and neither did his lawyer. However, Diana caught a whiff of tar from Peter and noticed his lips tighten uncomfortably. As an Alpha, he must have been irritated not only by the mere presence of another Alpha, but especially by an Alpha who had shown him no sign of appreciation. No, Alpha Novak was being the worst Alpha to Peter that an Alpha could be to another Alpha; he was ignoring him. He hadn't changed his stance, he hadn't shown any sign of showing his teeth, and now that he looked in their direction, his expression was completely impassive.
"My client and I expected to hear from the police much sooner. When that didn't happen, we decided to contact you first," Shurley began, placing his briefcase at the foot of the table before resting his hands comfortably on the table, "Alpha Novak is willing to answer any questions you may have and to cooperate fully... to the extent that his civil rights are preserved, of course."
"That's very kind of him," Peter said caustically, looking directly at the other Alpha, who only glanced at the words. Another whiff of the tarry smell irritated Diana's nose and she decided to intervene. She didn't like Novak either, but they could hardly put him where he belonged, behind bars, if Peter allowed himself to be provoked.
"Why don't we start at the beginning?" he suggested amiably, and she took the seat opposite Shurley, for Peter was now sitting in the other chair, gripping the back of it, his eyes still fixed on the other Alpha. "First, Alpha Novak, I must inform you that our entire conversation will be recorded for future use in the investigation and placed in the investigation file. If you do not agree to this, you have the right to leave now. And since this is not an interrogation or a subpoena and you are here voluntarily, you have the right to end our conversation and leave at any time. Do you understand your rights?"
"Yes, I understand," Alpha Novak spoke for the first time, leaning forward, folding his wrists on the table and interlocking his fingers. "You may ask me any questions you wish, and I will be happy to answer them. I appreciate the good work... your work... that the police do in this country, and my only concern is for Dean's safety, and I believe that is your concern as well."
Alpha Novak's voice was deep, a little raspy, and had a distinct Eastern European accent, but it was at odds with the fact that he spoke smoothly and without stuttering. If he dropped the accent, it would be impossible to tell where he was from... but maybe it wasn't just the accent she was hearing. As Novak spoke, she noticed a gleam in his mouth. A gold tooth, probably a straight gold fang in full Alpha size. The same one that had left a very specific imprint on Dean's shoulder.
Even today, for many immigrants from Eastern Europe, gold remained a mark of social status and a way to show their wealth. But the gold teeth were specific in one way. Upon entering the prison, the prisoners took everything of value and most of their clothing and searched every body cavity. In exchange, the prisoner was given a card with a chip that could be used to buy food and toiletries and to make phone calls. In some prisons they didn't even get the card. The gold crown was an easy way to get something of value into prison that could then be exchanged for contraband: drugs, a phone, a gun. That's why gold crowns and gold dentures were still very popular with members of Eastern European criminal organizations.
Diana's eyes slid from Alph's mouth down the length of his dark blue tie, in which was set a gold pin with a red stone that looked like a ruby. Over his white silk shirt, his black jacket of expensive quality, and the cufflinks - perfectly styled to match the pin in his tie - that peeked out from under the edge of his black sleeve, to his slender fingers clasped on the tabletop. Novak wore gold rings on four of his ten fingers, but they didn't completely cover the tattoos underneath, and they certainly didn't hide the Azbuka script that blackened his knuckles.
She'd never worked in Organized Crime, the Special Victims Unit was her dream job, and after a brief stint in Vice she'd transferred directly here, but she had enough friends and acquaintances in other departments that the sight of Novak's hands gave her a clue.
She wasn't wrong. This Alpha was guilty of everything he was accused of, and probably many other crimes that didn't involve Omega Dean at all, but were no less serious. Novak belonged in prison. There was no doubt about it.
"Let's cut to the chase... you don't deny that you know Omega Winchester?" Peter asked.
"No, I don't deny it. I know him well."
"And what is the nature of your relationship?" Diana asked bluntly.
"Relationship?" Novak repeated, tilting his head slightly to the side again, as he had done before. "I would say we are friends."
"How did you meet?" Peter asked next.
"I met him at the store."
Novak's statement matched Dean's, but that didn't mean it was true. There was nothing easier than for an Alpha, especially an Alpha like Novak, to simply tell an Omega what to say and how to say it. He didn't even have to force him to do it. Young Omegas like Dean, who had fallen under the thumb of the older Alphas, would say and do anything for 'their' Alphas.
"And next...?"
"From his scent, my Alpha knew we were True Mates, so I did what my instincts told me to do; I walked up to him and gave him my phone number."
Saying outright that you considered someone as young as Dean to be your Mate wasn't criminal, of course, but it was morally questionable to say the least, and she didn't know anyone who would admit it publicly.
"At the time, my client was unaware of Omega Winchester's age," Shurley interjected.
" Not knowing the age of the victim cannot be used as a defense. You should know that," Peter pointed out, lifting his corner slightly to show the lawyer a hint of teeth.
"A defense?" Shurley repeated in would-be surprise, not to be distracted by Diana's little warning to the Alpha. "Are you going to accuse my client of something? If so, this conversation is over and we're leaving," he said firmly, making a motion to stand.
"No one has any intention of accusing your client. This is simply a friendly conversation. You may leave at any time," she assured the lawyer in the first sentence, but then looked at his Alpha client and raised her chin in challenge. Novak could still walk away at any time, but he was less likely to do so if he saw this conversation as a battle of wills, and especially if Beta had challenged him to a fight. Alphas never wanted to give up a fight unless they were absolutely sure they were going to lose it.
The Russian Alpha returned her gaze for a moment before narrowing his eyes and looking briefly at Peter.
"I'm not leaving. You can keep asking questions," Novak replied, and Shurley, already half standing, sat back down without so much as a flinch.
"We were Dean's age. The fact that he's only sixteen," Diana took over, deliberately using Omega's name to see how he reacted when she said his name out loud. And especially when she added his age. She expected a predatory smile, or perhaps a look of disdainful triumph from a man convinced he was untouchable. So she was surprised when, at the mention of Omega's name, Novak's eyelids fluttered and his previously tight lips relaxed and even lifted slightly in what looked like a gentle smile. He didn't look like a predator remembering his prey, but rather like a man remembering his Omega Mate. Either he had convinced himself that he loved Omega Dean - which was not uncommon among perpetrators - or there was some truth to the claim that they were Trua Mates. Odor compatibility was a scientifically established fact, and the reality was that Dean was old enough to produce mating pheromones and could indeed be odor compatible with Novak. But that gave Novak no right to take advantage of Dean.
"When did you find out about this?" She followed up.
"A few days later."
"And even though you knew, you kept in contact with him. You didn't find it... inappropriate?" Peter asked.
"No," Novak was surprised by the short answer. "Dean is my True Mate. I don't see anything inappropriate in giving him everything he needs. I consider it my duty and expect nothing in return. It's... suďba... destiny. In my culture and faith, we take True Mates very seriously. Not like here in America, where they are a source of cheap entertainment in cheap romantic comedies."
"You often refer to Dean as your True Mate, and we all know what that means. Am I to understand that you have a romantic and sexual interest in him?" Peter asked in a way that seemed like there was nothing wrong with it.
"That's a misleading question, don't you think?" He asked with the same friendly casualness. "My client admits that he is aware of Omega Winchester's age and the laws of this state, and he admits that he has met the named Omega on several occasions. He has done so exclusively in public and in a perfectly friendly tone. He has committed no crime or offense in this conduct. As for his thoughts or plans for the future... that is his private business at this time. I hope you are not going to prosecute the upstanding citizens of this city for their ideas? I guess they wouldn't be enough for you."
"We can't prosecute your client for his ideas, but we can prosecute him for letting Omega Winchester and his brother live in his apartment," Peter replied sharply, but he wasn't looking at Shurley, he was looking at the other Alpha. Right into his eyes. "We'll start with endangering the morals of the young and malpractice, and while your client sits in a cell waiting his turn in court, we won't get enough evidence of what he did to Omega Dean... his so-called Mate."
Novak's gaze went cold, his upper lip lifted to reveal a flash of gold, and a sickening bitterness with undertones of baked almonds found its way to Diana's nose. It was an unpleasant smell indeed, and it made her unconsciously lean a little closer to her Alpha, whose pungent and largely unpleasant tar scent brought a sense of security and safety.
"I get the impression you're starting to make some serious accusations here," Shurley objected on behalf of his client, who hadn't taken his eyes off Peter.
"We'll get to the accusations," replied, picking up the tablet on which she'd found the photograph of Dean's shoulder and placing it in front of Novak. "For starters, we'd like to hear some explanations. Like why Omega, with whom you had only a friendly relationship, has your teeth marks on his neck?"
Alpha Novak very reluctantly tore his gaze away from Peter, not wanting to give up like any other Alpha, and looked down at the tablet screen. He just looked. Without moving or blinking. The guy could have a perfect poker face if he didn't stare at the pictures of Omega's neck for too long.
"Looking at your work... Alpha?" Peter asked provocatively.
Novak looked up at him slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes cold, before he slid his tablet over to Peter and, without taking his eyes off him, said:
"This is not my mark. It's not even Alpha's mark. There are no fangs prints."
"Not at first glance, but here..." She slid her finger across the tablet to show another photo. "Just pull up the contrast and you can see a clear fang print. Your fang."
"All I can see is a blurry and too-bright photo of a bruise," Shurley said, craning his neck and leaning a little to see the screen, but at the same time keeping as far away from Novak as possible. "If you want to make a case out of this, I can only wish you good luck."
"We've got a lot more than that," Peter said confidently, causing Diana to glance quickly in his direction. They had literally nothing but the photo they had just shown Novak. No victim's statement. No witnesses, because Dean's brother said he didn't know Novak at all and didn't know who owned the apartment - whether he was lying or not, she couldn't say for sure. He was a very quiet and calm boy for a twelve-year-old Alpha, answering them with a word or two. They didn't even have any physical evidence, since the sample tube came back completely negative on the fill. Either Novak had held back for a few days, maybe because of the preheating, or at least he had used a condom for the last time.
Peter knew all this, but still decided to attack the other Alpha directly. Diana disagreed. It was a big risk. If he went too far, it could cause their path to Alpha Novak to be completely blocked by the wall of his political connections. But she couldn't stop him, so she just watched in silence as her Alpha stood up, walked around the table and leaned against the edge, too close to Novak.
No wonder the Russian Alpha immediately bared his teeth and straightened abruptly. The rumble coming from his chest was a warning not to get any closer to the strange and certainly not very pleasant Alpha. Peter ignored it, bared his own teeth and leaned further into Novak's space. A mixture of bitter almonds and hot tar immediately filled the air around the two posing Alphas, and if it was strong and unpleasant for Diana, a Beta, it would probably be unbearable for any other Alpha or Omega.
Diana's eyes glanced briefly at Shurley. He made a movement that caught her attention; he raised his hand to his mouth as if he was about to cough, but was actually just covering his nose.
"Omega Dean told us everything," Peter lied confidently, his voice calm, almost confidential, and completely at odds with the tension that pulsed through his body as he towered over Novak. And the other Alpha was no more relaxed. His chin jutted forward and his chest puffed out in response to Peter's provocation. But of course he was not intimidated and continued, "He described to us every disgusting detail of what you did to him. How he detests your smell and how he has to spend an hour washing it off every time you touch him. And how he gets dirty every time an old man like you lies on top of him. What do you think? Hmm?" He let the questioning murmur turn into a low growl. "I think that's just the way you like it, huh? When they smell of fear and disgust. I'm right, aren't I? So what do you have to say for?"
"I'll say one thing: you're a liar," Novak replied with nothing more than another warning growl.
Peter's features hardened and the two Alphas stared at each other without blinking. Diana inhaled the bitter, foul-smelling air and was about to interrupt the two rival Alphas when there was a knock on the door, followed by the door swinging wide open to reveal the Captain's sprawled figure taking up all the space between the frames.
With a snarl, Peter stood up sharply, clearly ready to throw the intruder out, but when he saw who was standing in the doorway, he immediately fell silent and took half a step back.
"Detectives Sheridan and Ballard... one moment, please," their Alpha Captain urged.
"I'll be right back and we'll finish this conversation," Peter said warningly to Novak.
The other Alpha lifted a corner and showed his golden fang, amusement flashing in his eyes.
"Looking forward to it... Detective," he replied smugly.
Peter gritted his teeth, but said nothing more and quickly made his way out of the room to the Captain, who was already waiting for them. Diana quickly excused herself and followed her Alpha, but remembered to grab tablet from the table first.
"I didn't do anything against the rules. I just put a little pressure on him," were the first words of her Alpha's defense she heard as she closed the interrogation room door behind her.
"This isn't about the interrogation, it's about something else. Follow me," the captain ordered, walking to the observation room door himself.
They followed him inside, and Diana immediately knew where the wind was coming from.
Standing at the observation glass was Gordon Walker, Chief of Detectives in the Organized Crime Unit. They had never been formally introduced, although Diana had attended several seminars and briefings on the interaction between Vice, Organized Crime and the Special Victims Unit in cases involving organized child prostitution and the sale of Omegas. Walker, on the other hand, was one of those officers everyone had known since the academy. An old-school legend. Thirty-one years on the force. He joined the force in '92, a time when African-American officers faced many obstacles, but he still managed to rise from patrolman to the top of the department's hierarchy.
"You probably know Chief Detective Alpha Walker. This is Detective Alpha Sheridan and Detective Ballard," the captain introduced them.
While Peter and Alpha Walker exchanged their usual looks and poses, acknowledging each other, Diana took a half-step forward to shake the Chief Detective's hand, but he had no interest in a greeting.
"I'll get straight to the point; you need to let Novak go and end any investigation involving him."
"We're investigating him for the abuse of a minor Omega and possibly his purchase," Peter replied.
"I know why you're investigating him. I've already managed to read what little you have. It's barely enough to charge him with endangering the upbringing of a minor. You have no chance of succeeding, and you are only jeopardizing our investigation, which has a much higher priority."
She frowned. She understood that Alpha Novak was being investigated by the Organized Crime Unit, after all, Alpha Walker wouldn't even be here without it, but she didn't consider their investigation a higher priority than their own.
"With all due respect, the man," she nodded toward the glass window that overlooked the next room where Novak was with his attorney; Shurley faced Alpha, his head slightly bowed, speaking to his client so softly that the microphones picked up only his background noise, while Novak sat upright and didn't seem to have the attorney's close attention, as Alpha kept a piercing stare directly at what must have appeared to him to be nothing more than a mirrored wall, "has been raping a sixteen-year-old boy for weeks. We can't just let him go because you think our investigation might jeopardize yours."
"Detective... Ballard?" Alpha Walker turned to her, using her name with a small question mark at the end; she nodded to let him know that yes, that was her name. "You obviously don't know who this Alpha is. He's not just a lowly member of the Russian Bratva."
"Is he high ranking?" Peter half-asked.
"More than that. We're pretty sure he runs the largest Russian territory in this city," Walker replied, then took a small step closer and continued. "Up until three years ago, the syndicates straight out of Russia were on the retreat. They were being pushed out by groups from Ukraine and Chechnya. And the Russian territory itself was fragmented under the leadership of several uncooperative Russian groups. The main player was Alpha Medvedev, called Pugal, who controlled most of the territory. Our sources told us that he was stealing from his own brotherhood, and that's a death sentence. We hoped that if we offered him protection, he might turn and talk. Unfortunately, we couldn't get to him in time. Medvedev disappeared before we could contact him, and someone else took his place. And he unleashed a bloody massacre... a war in which he ousted all other Russian organizations and took over most of the Ukrainian and Chechen territories. Bodies piled up everywhere... Hudson washed them up by the dozen. Charred, tortured bodies that should have been a warning to anyone who decided to turn against the Russians. And against Alpha, who led them and who quickly acquired a very paradoxical nickname: batyushka. It means 'daddy. Walker paused briefly and turned to the glass, his gaze fixed on Novak. "For a long time we didn't know exactly who he was, let alone what he looked like. But now we know. It's Novak."
Diana looked at Alpha who was waiting in the interrogation room. He didn't exactly look like someone an Alpha Walker would have to speak of with such disgust and even a hint of admiration, but as she knew, appearances could be deceiving. The worst animals, even in her experience, walked around in suits rather than looking like the pedophiles on crime shows. She could easily believe that Novak was exactly who Alpha Walker thought he was, but that didn't change the fact that they couldn't let him get away with it. They had a responsibility to his victims. They had a responsibility to Dean. They had to protect Omega, and if Novak was who the Organized Crime Division thought he was, then Dean needed protection even more.
"All the more reason for us to work together. If we accuse him of child sexual abuse, his people will turn away from him."
Alpha Walker turned to her with an amused grin.
"If we were talking about a puppy, maybe, but we're talking about a sixteen-year-old Omega. They sell younger than that Dean Winchester on the street. If you managed to get Novak into custody with all that flimsy evidence, the guys in jail would probably congratulate him on a good catch," Alpha dismissed her argument. "Let him go, close the case, and stop interfering with our work."
"As much as I hate to, I'll comply," their captain agreed before turning to them. "Assure Alpha Novak that he is not and will not be charged with anything and then close the investigation."
"You're serious, boss?" Peter disagreed immediately with a small growl in his chest.
The other two Alphas immediately gave him the same answer, their previously sweet smells turning bitter. Peter's was hot tar, the captain's smelled of spicy mustard, and Walker's was a little vague, piercing through the blockers but reminding Diana vaguely of pepper or chili.
"That was an order, Detective Sheridan."
"Are we going to let a pervert get away just so we don't ruffle the Organized crime's feathers?" Her Alpha continued to disagree, and Diana was warmly on his side.
"And... If he's what you say he is, he'll find a way to get to Dean again. Without an indictment, we have no chance to protect Omega," she added to the argument.
"Yes, that could happen," Alpha Walker agreed with ruthless indifference. "But we can't throw away years of investigation to protect one Omega. The stakes are much higher. We can destroy the entire New York branch of the Vorkutskaya Bratva through Novak. Sometimes you have to make a small concession, sacrifice one individual to save dozens and hundreds more."
Diana took a breath to protest, but her captain stopped her with a raised hand.
"None of us like it, but the jurisdiction in this case is clear. The undercover investigation takes precedence, and as much as I hate to admit it, our evidence is weak. With what we have, the prosecutor would tell us to go to hell.
"When our investigation is over, you can add your charges to the ones we'll have against Novak. Letting him haunt the prison for a few more decades after his death isn't a bad idea," Alpha Walker suggested, but that wasn't damn good enough.
"That's not going to help the Omega," Peter snorted, turning on his heel and heading for the door.
"Where are you going, Detective?" Their commander asked.
Peter turned, his hand resting on the handle of the open door.
"To follow orders, Captain. Send the pervert home," he replied and left without saying anything else.
Both the Alphas and Diana turned to the one-way mirror and watched as Peter informed Novak and his attorneys that they had no further questions and that he could go home in peace as their department had no plans to take any further action on the Omega Winchester case. At that moment, Diana looked over at Walker, a satisfied smile on his face.
She frowned.
Suddenly, everything clicked and before she knew it, a small growl escaped her lips as she showed her teeth. For the average Beta, a keen sense of smell wasn't the only thing she was blessed with. A kind of ferocity, stronger instincts similar to those of an Alpha and an Omega were another little thing the freak of nature had given her. And sometimes it came out, even when she didn't want it to.
The Alpha Walker turned to her in surprise, after all it wasn't usual to see a growling Beta, but he quickly regained his composure, his surprise replaced by a sharp expression.
"You knew about Dean all the time, didn't you?"
"Yes, we knew about him," Alpha Walker admitted without hesitation.
"And you left it at that. You didn't help him."
"During a covert investigation, we're under no obligation to intervene if we know of a crime in progress or planned. You should know that yourself."
"This is different. You're not only condoning the abuse, you're trying to use Dean against Novak! Sixteen-year-old Omega... he's just a kid," she accused him angrily.
The Alpha stepped closer, baring his teeth in a low growl. Whether she wanted to or not, it made her lower her head a little and inhale sharply. The power of Walker's dominance was undeniable.
"You don't seem to get it, Detective," he said in a harsh tone, causing her to lower her eyes. "The man is a damned animal! He leaves bodies behind wherever he goes. And Omega Winchester is a way to get to him. A way to bring him to his knees. When Winchester has a puppy or two and learns what life is like alongside a criminal cartel leader, he'll be willing to help us in exchange for protection."
"That's unethical, and I'll do everything I can to stop it," she declared firmly.
"Unless you want to get yourself into trouble, I wouldn't recommend it," Walker replied.
Diana looked defiantly into his eyes, this time deliberately showing a hint of teeth.
"I will not be intimidated," he said firmly before she quickly checked on her captain, who had watched the whole scene in silence, and then left the observation room.
Anger boiled inside her. No matter what Novak had done, it didn't give anyone the right to use a defenseless child against him. To both of them, Dean was a boy who had been through his own thing before he fell into Novak's clutches, and it was their duty to protect him. Not to turn him into a tool. Unfortunately, that was the mindset of many Alphas, apparently including Walker. No matter how the laws changed and how many rights the Omegas gained, they were still naive and defenseless fools at best in the eyes of too much of society. Worse, second-class citizens.
She set the tablet down on her desk a little more abruptly than she had intended. The plastic clattered against the desk and the screen lit up. It rattled Diana a little, despite all the anger she felt, and she quickly picked up the tablet and turned it back on to see if it was working.
"Detective Ballard," came a deep, scratchy voice from behind her.
She turned in surprise.
She really hadn't expected Novak to address her, but he was standing a short distance away, looking down at her with his piercing eyes, but without even a hint of the Alpha pose or any other display of dominance.
"Alpha Novak..." she said politely, sizing him up a bit warily.
Alpha simply raised his hand for a handshake. She glanced down at the offered palm and hesitated a bit before clasping it. Novak's grip was firm and confident, of course, but at the same time perfectly polite. It didn't look like he was trying to show anything more than simple politeness with the gesture.
"Thank you for your work," Novak said softly, even through his accent and his crooked voice. "I really appreciate the police in this country and the fair laws you have here. I can trust the police and government authorities to do what's best for my Omega," he said with such seriousness that Diana wasn't sure if he was serious or mocking her.
"We will, Alpha. You don't have to worry," she replied just as politely.
"Yes, I know you will," he replied, and suddenly his grip tightened uncomfortably. Diana noticed that Peter had appeared behind Novak's back, and his scowling expression and posture clearly said that he was in protective Alpha mode, which was why he didn't even blink and endured Novak's strong grip.
"By the way, you have a very nice necklace. Original."
"Thank you..." She forced a smile.
"From your boyfriend or husband?"
"No, I bought it myself," she lied. Why was Novak interested in her necklace at all? He had no rational reason. He probably had an irrational one, though, because he suddenly pulled Diana closer to him, leaning all the way into her personal space and taking in her scent, his face and nose too close to her shoulder and neck and thus to her scent glands. Regardless of the fact that Beta's scent glands were stunted and therefore her pheromones were weak compared to the Alphas and Omegas, sniffing Beta without her permission was just as rude as doing it to an Alpha or an Omega.
"Excuse me!" She objected, flinching violently at the intrusion.
At the same moment, Peter's angry face, full of bared teeth and sharp, gleaming fangs, emerged from behind Novak's back, and her Alpha growled deeply, angrily and protectively at the same time.
Novak released her immediately and stepped back to face Peter. And he showed his teeth, too. By this time, not only was the entire station paying attention to them, but their colleagues began to get up from their desks and a couple of uniformed officers made their way in their direction, hands on their weapons, assessing the situation carefully, ready to intervene. The last thing they needed was to have Novak arrested right here in the station.
"It's all right. Everything is under control!" She raised her voice just enough for everyone to hear, and at the same time she stood between Novak and Peter, who was trying to protect her, and put her hand on his chest. "Nothing happened, Detective." She pressed gently into Peter's chest and spoke the next words softly, only to her Alpha. "It's all right, Peter. You can step back. I'm fine."
Her reassurance had just the right effect. Peter's stance relaxed a bit, the warning growl faded, he even lowered his gaze to her for a moment, but the strong smell of tar did nothing to dampen it.
"Don't ever touch her again!" Peter warned the other Alpha, pointing a finger at him before finally giving in to Diana's pressure on his chest and taking a small half-step back.
There was a chuckle behind her that made Peter growl again and Diana turned on him. Novak had an amused grin on his face and for a moment it looked like he might even say something derogatory, but instead he just lifted his chin and without another word turned and headed for the exit. Shurley gave them both only a brief nod of greeting and quickly took off after his retreating client.
Diana followed Novak with her gaze until he disappeared into the hallway leading to the elevators before she removed her hand from her Alpha's chest.
Notes:
The Special Victims Unit does exist, but the unit responsible for investigating organized crime was disbanded in 2016 and its duties were reassigned to other departments. Not surprisingly, this happened because the unit was found to have a high level of corruption. Because I needed this unit in the story, it just works in 23/24. 😃
As we all know, nature doesn't usually work in exact numbers. Colors, shapes, behaviors... everything has its limits, but also a lot of variability. If we made a straight line and placed people on that line based on their physical and mental attributes then yes, at certain points we could draw a line and say "from here they are Alphas" but there would still be a certain amount of Betas that exhibit Alpha or Omega subgender traits. Diana is one of them.
Vorkuta is a city in Russia located above the Arctic Circle and is known for Vorkutlag, a large and feared penal camp. A triviality that will never be mentioned in the story... The Vors, who are sort of the founders of the Russian Mafia/Bratva, have their roots in penal camps dating back to the days of Tsarist Russia. Later these camps were called Gulags. They were usually penal camps in remote locations, often above the Arctic Circle, with hundreds to thousands of prisoners living in squalid conditions and often guarded by only a few dozen guards. No one tried to escape from such a camp, even if it was not very secure, because all around it was either an icy wasteland or a deep forest. There was nowhere to run. And since the food supply was directly dependent on a handful of guards, the prisoners didn't even try to revolt.
Because these penal camps eventually became de facto cities (everyone was sent there, real criminals, political prisoners, the mentally or physically handicapped, the inconvenient poor... men and women, without distinction), the people there created their own self-government and their own laws. And the Vors were the enforcers of those laws.
Castiel's father was convinced that his grandfather had been a Vor in Vorkutlag, and so he named his brotherhood after it.
Chapter Text
He spent another night in the closet and all of the next day before the key finally rattled in the lock. He turned away from further humiliation and prepared himself for the role of obedient Omega, wanting a chance to carry out their plan. What a surprise when the Alpha fucker just pulled him out by the collar, growled at him and dragged him upstairs to the room Dean shared with Angel and locked him in. Alone. Where his roommate was, Dean didn't know, but shortly after the Knot had locked him in, he heard everyone going back to their rooms. He expected Angelo to come too, but he didn't. Dean didn't have to think long to figure out where the other Omega boy was.
He sat down on the floor by the door and listened carefully to the sounds of the house. It took an endless amount of time for the commotion to stop long enough for the house to fall into silence. For a moment, he considered waiting for Angelo to return, but finally decided to go ahead with the plan anyway. He wanted to get out of this damn place. Today was a chance and if the other Omega boy could keep the Alpha's attention... well, there was nothing Dean could do about it and after all, Angelo wasn't his friend. He wasn't even his ally. He couldn't take care of everyone, no matter how much the small Omega voice in his head whispered that he should.
Stifling it, he stood up and reached into his pocket for his nail.
He slid it into the lock, along with the piece of wire Charlie had managed to steal and slip under his closet door before dinner tonight, and set to work. It took a few movements, careful and precisely measured, to make the lock click as the latch sank into the door.
He opened it slowly, so the door wouldn't creak, and looked out into the hallway. He was especially careful to see if he could see a light under any of the doors, but no. All the rooms were dark.
Quietly, he walked over to the door to Charlie's room and unlocked it just like his own, then stuck his head in.
It looked exactly like his and Angel's. Strong, and even in the darkness, lit only by the lights from the street, he could tell there were no colors in it. There were even identical beds. In one lay the small figure of Sybill and in the other the slightly larger figure of the red-haired Omega.
"Shh! Shh! Charlie!" He whispered into the quiet room.
Charlie immediately sat up and fixed her watchful eyes on him, whereupon she nodded and got out of bed. Little Omega in the other bed made a grunting sound as mucus jumped down her throat, but judging by her regular, slightly wheezy breathing, she was still asleep.
Charlie carefully closed the door behind her and then they both cautiously made their way downstairs. He wanted to go first, but the redheaded Omega stopped him, shook her head, held up a finger and began to descend carefully, choosing where to step. He figured it out right away. She knew which step squeaked where. He followed her footsteps exactly, and they managed to make it to the ground floor without being heard.
He glanced at the front door. All the bolts were locked and several were padlocked. With the few tools he had, it could take several minutes to get out. At least the study door had a simple lock that took him barely thirty seconds.
Charlie pushed past him as soon as he'd managed to get the door open and headed straight for the desk where his laptop lay closed.
"Well, let's see what secrets you're going to reveal," the redhead chirped, opening the computer.
With a quick glance at the closed door, Dean checked that the light from the computer would probably not be visible in the hallway, then started to do some research. His goal was to find out where Evans had hidden the things he had taken from them. Cas's cross would be among them. He had to get it back. He wanted it back. It was a stupid symbol that it belonged to Castiel, so he just wanted it back around his own neck.
He made his way along the wall, limping a little because his swollen knee was hurting. He tried some of the drawers and opened the desk drawers, which were surprisingly all unlocked. But he found nothing. He glanced at the screen where the other Omega was working, trying to get into Alpha's computer, and frowned. Nothing that flashed on the screen told him anything, so he scanned the room again. This time he tried to see if there was a safe somewhere. Maybe behind a painting, a cabinet, or under a sofa against the wall. He even looked under the carpet. There was nothing. He frowned in annoyance and unconsciously looked out the window.
A billboard glowed on the roof of the building opposite, its illumination reaching into the backyard and providing surprisingly enough light to get a good look at the garden. Something caught his eye, but he wasn't sure what, so he hobbled over to the window, leaned against the frame and looked out.
At first glance, there was nothing of interest, just a neglected garden with a few overgrown shrubs and a beaten path where he could vaguely make out large stones covered in moss and grass. The fence had been painted, yes, but that didn't help. If there were no flower beds in the garden...
Wait a minute!
At the back of the fence, in the least lit corner, was what looked like a flowerbed with a few branches sticking out that could be young shrubs. Who the hell would plant shrubs in the autumn? And why would he plant them in the corner of an unkempt, unmaintained garden? And no, it didn't look like a job that the Node would assign to the Omegas to punish and abuse them. He'd have them clean up the whole yard, or even paint the porch floor. Paint... oil paint... stinking oil paint... a flower bed for which there was no reason... autumn rains interspersed with sudden warmth, if only for a few hours... Gilda.
Oh shit! It all made sense now.
"Charlie," he turned to the other Omega.
"Hmm...?" Charlie hummed absently.
He took a hesitant step towards her. Fuck! He couldn't just tell her, but he probably couldn't keep his suspicions from her either.
"Um... how long has Gilda been gone?" he asked carefully. He couldn't see the flowerbed very well, it was night and even the light from the industrial lamps wasn't strong enough to see the details well, but he had the impression that the flowerbed was quite fresh. It was tall and all.
"Thirty-nine days," she answered, damned accurately, finally turning to him.
A month... yeah, that would fit somehow.
"Okay, yeah... " he hesitated, not knowing the right way to say it now that he was looking into Charlie's eyes, her numb scent teasing his nose, but at the moment it was still tinged with nervousness and a hint of sour fear. Telling her the truth would frighten her even more, and that could ruin their plans, but he couldn't keep the truth from her either. "Look, I have to tell you something about Gilda..." he began, but was cut off mid-sentence by a sharp slam of the door that shook the entire house.
He didn't have to think for a second to know what had happened. The Alpha bastard got tired of fucking Angel and took him to his room, only to find Dean gone. And the fast footsteps they heard above their heads again made it clear that Evans had gone looking for him.
"Working!" Charlie ordered as he ran for the door.
"But...!" The other Omega protested.
"Keep working, I say! I'll take care of him!" He growled at her and ran out into the hallway.
He closed the door behind him as the Alpha ran down the last step and turned into the hallway. Their eyes met. Even in the dim light coming in from the stairwell, the small windows of the front door, and from the living room and dining room, he could see that the Alpha's eyes must have turned red. The smell of rotting grapefruit spread through the hallway in a massive wave.
Dean instinctively took a defensive posture and bared his own teeth in a warning growl that perfectly matched the growl of his inner Omega. It was a mixture of anger and a desire to protect Charlie, but also a little bit of fear. It wasn't that he was really afraid of the bastard, but they had fought a few times and Dean had never won. The pain in his knee and side and the uncomfortable pressure of the thick collar on his scent gland were strong reminders of his repeated losses. Now they were facing Evans again and he was trapped in the hallway with only three options. He could return to the office and try to barricade himself inside, then perhaps escape through the window with Charlie. If they failed, the redheaded Omega would be punished, and he didn't want that. The other option was to try to fight his way to the exit, with little chance of actually getting out, and if he did, it would mean leaving Charlie behind. Or the last option; the kitchen. The kitchen where there were knives and pans and maybe some other weapons he could use.
Yeah, it looked like option three was his only option.
"Come on... Alpha. Let's go another round!" He said mockingly.
"You little Omega bitch!" Knotty growled.
"Is that all you know, Knotty?" He grinned, and before heading for the door, he flipped the Alpha shit his middle finger and with a "Bite me!" ran up the stairs to the kitchen.
He took the stairs two at a time, even at the risk of his aching knee not being able to handle the hectic escape. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him and knew that the few seconds lead he had wouldn't last long. Alphas could be damn fast, everyone knew that, but what people didn't know was that Omegas were fast too. The Omegas were literally at each other's throats, and in Dean's case, his ass.
He slid into the kitchen, his knee popping painfully. He hadn't been paying attention. He had a clear target. The knife rack on the kitchen counter. The idiot fucker was so sure of himself, he'd just as soon leave it out in the open for all to see. He was under the impression that none of 'his' Omegas could come and slit his throat like the pig he was.
He looked for his target and was almost there when a weight slammed into his back, sending him flying against the kitchen counter. The blunt edge plunged into his empty stomach with such force that he felt bile in his mouth and a thick finger hooked behind his collar. The unyielding skin dug into his bite, cutting off his breath. Instinctively, he tried to stick his own fingers under the collar to get some air into his lungs, but at the same time he groped blindly for the knife holder. In addition to the collar, the stench was choking him. Bitter rot and below it the smell of a contented Alpha and somewhere in the distance he could smell an Omega, probably Angel's. Finally he felt the smooth surface of the wood under his fingers.
He immediately felt for the first knife and pulled it out.
Then he threw his head back and smashed the back of his head into the snarling face of the Alpha pressing against him. Whether Knot had expected it or not, it was a blow so hard that his fingers slipped from under Dean's collar. Dean took a deep breath as he tried to turn and use the movement to stab himself with the knife. The blade glinted in the light coming through the small windows under the ceiling, but missed its target. It narrowly missed Alpha's bared teeth, and Dean knew in that moment that he was screwed. The almost bone-crushing grip on his wrist was no longer reassuring.
"STOP! DON'T MOVE!"
The order penetrated his body and mind, pushing his own will somewhere in the background. He had lost control of himself, but he was also aware that he was still holding the knife, and maybe all he could do was resist... just push harder.
"I should break your arms," the Alpha growled, sounding almost amused. "But I know another way to show you your place," he continued smugly as he took the knife from Dean's hand.
Dean tried to hold on to the blade, but the Alpha simply pried it free, and a moment later the knife clattered against the sink. Then he grabbed the hair at the back of Dean's neck.
"Angry bitches like you need an Alpha knot. It'll calm them down. I don't know why I didn't do it a long time ago," he said almost thoughtfully, at the same time a sickening whiff of musky Alpha arousal added to the furious smell of rotting grapefruit and turned Dean's stomach.
"You're going to die!" came out of him, much to his own surprise. He thought he couldn't speak, but apparently he could at least do that, and maybe spit. The realization filled him with a senseless courage and satisfaction. If nothing else, he was going to insult the fucker all the time. "I'll kill you if you touch me! I'll kill you and you'll thank me! If I let you live, my Alpha will skin you! Nobody touches his property!" He added proudly, though he was still rationally aware of the fact that he had called himself Castiel's property, and the fact that he surprisingly didn't find it humiliating at all.
A hideous, mocking laugh escaped Evan's lips before he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, pressing the hard collar into him as he leaned in close.
"You think I'm afraid of your pimp or that pathetic imitation you call an Alpha?" He asked amusedly, licking his cheek. Dean made his deep disgust known the only way he could, by snarling and baring his teeth. At the same time, he did it to hide the fear creeping through his gut.
Maybe the bastard felt that fear after all, maybe it was reflected in Dean's scent, because Evans smiled with pleasure, which was visible even in the dim light coming from the small windows, and took a step back. Dean was aware that he was free and might as well run, but his body was no longer his own. He could talk, but he couldn't really move.
"KNEEL!"
The order knocked him off his feet. It was as if he had strings tied to them that someone had just pulled, forcing his joints to bend against his will. He couldn't even use his hands to break his fall, so he hit the hard ground and pain shot out of his right knee in both directions. Both his ankle and his hip. He clenched his teeth to keep from moaning.
"See, you can be a good Omega," the Knot continued to taunt, digging his fingers into Dean's hair. He could only look up at him defiantly, which Evans must have seen because he bared his teeth in a grin and reached for the zipper of his pants.
The disgust at the thought of what the Alpha was about to do made his stomach churn and his Omega, bound by the fucking Alpha's voice, whimpered in deep rejection. This was not his Alpha. This wasn't Castiel. This Alpha touching him was fucking wrong, and as far as his Omega and his irrational, childish self were concerned, Dean wasn't hoping for anything other than his Alpha suddenly showing up and ripping this Alpha's throat out. Rationally, he knew that wasn't going to happen.
The Alpha reached into his unzipped fly and pulled out his cock. Dean couldn't see it very well, it was just a shadow in Evans' hand, but he could definitely feel it as the warm tip pressed against his cheek. He clenched his jaws tightly, determined not to let the disgusting thing in, but it didn't deter the Knot. He ran his half-hard cock over Dean's lips, coating them with precum that reeked of both Alpha arousal and Omega slickness, making Dean sick.
"OPEN!"
The command... the strong Alpha voice... penetrated his brain, sinking its claws in and trying to force his mouth open. Dean fought back with all his might, and it... worked. He managed to hold his jaws together for long, endless seconds, holding his breath and resisting the pressure of the filthy cock pressed against his lips. But the force of the command was too great. The single word stuck in his brain, echoing over and over, and before he could summon the strength to resist further, his resistance faded and he opened his mouth with a gasp.
The massive length flash, tasting of musk, cardamom and something sickeningly bitter, sucked on his tongue and worked its way down his throat. So deep that it made it impossible for him to breathe. His throat tightened and tears filled his eyes. It was sickening, but so strangely impersonal. He was far more focused on the fact that he couldn't breathe properly than the mere fact that Evans had forced his cock into his mouth. And it wasn't what might happen next that scared him, it was the thought that the Alpha wouldn't pull his cock out again and he would just suffocate. He dies with this motherfucker's penis in his throat and a knot forming between his teeth. The most humiliating death in the world. A death so typical of Omegas, because that's what Omegas were for, right? To hang from knots and choke on big Alpha dicks. Nothing but usable bitches.
Two strong hands grabbed his head and finally... finally the cock in his mouth moved. Evans pulled it up and shoved it back in. He used the brief moment that Dean's throat was free to breathe through the saliva and foul bitterness that filled his mouth. And when his cock took his breath away again, he realized, a little absurdly, that he actually knew this. He knew how to breathe through his nose at the right moment. He could survive this without being humiliated any more than he already was. After all, he'd done it a few times and it wasn't... it wasn't like the Knot was fucking his ass. No, that could still be his Alpha's. He could handle it, and then when he got out of here... when he got out of here, he wouldn't even be able to kiss his Castiel, let alone do anything else. He'll be second-hand stuff. A hole that someone else already had. His Alpha won't want him when he finds out.
The thought of rejection sent a wave of panic through him and his Omega howled pitifully. He couldn't be without his Alpha. He'd rather die. He couldn't even submit to another Alpha. He belonged to Castiel and no one else.
He rebelled against the strange pressure in his head. Against the wall that the Alpha's voice had built, that kept him from reaching his own body. He poured all his anger, fear, and humiliation into it, and suddenly something in his head seemed to snap. It was as if he'd punctured the bubble that separated him from his own muscles, and the sensation surprised him.
He clenched his hand experimentally, and when his thumb wrapped around the other fingers, he knew he had regained control of his body. He didn't hesitate for a moment and clenched his jaws. It was a great satisfaction to feel his teeth tearing through the sensitive skin and his mouth filling with blood.
Alpha roared in pain above his head and not only did he rip his cock from Dean's mouth, he also jerked his head so that the back of his head hit the metal handle of the cabinet. A sharp pain shot through his head and everything around him went black for a moment.
He blinked.
He was on the floor. He could see the black cracks in the tiles, the legs of a nearby table and chairs, and he could even see the door of the closet where he had been locked for so long. He blinked again. A ferocious growl mixed with a painful moan reached his ears over the rumble, and the air around him was filled with a mixture of Alpha rage in the form of rotting grapefruit and sharp notes of pain. He should be afraid, and hell yeah, Alpha rage was suffocating and terrifying, but he wasn't about to give in to that fear. He broke the spell of the Alpha's voice, he wasn't going to crawl around in fear and submission in front of the Knot just because he could feel his rage.
He propped himself up on his elbow and started to get up, but the monstrosity of the kitchen had turned into a black spinning carousel.
"Bitch!" he snapped.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something approaching quickly, splitting the swirling shades of black and gray. It was part instinct and part training that made him fall back to the ground, his hand shielding his most sensitive areas from the next kick. It landed hard, followed by another and another. The blows hit him so fast that he didn't even have time to notice the individual pain. They all merged into one. A stream of blows and grunts.
Suddenly there was light all around him.
It was a shock, and probably not only to him, because the kicks stopped and for a long second nothing happened. Nothing moved and nothing could be heard until there was an angry growl that became a battle cry.
A gray blur with a red tail flashed out of the doorway and slammed into Alpha with all its might, knocking him to the ground. Dean blinked again, this time pulling himself up on both hands and focusing on the pile of two bodies rolling across the floor. Holy crap! It was Charlie. She had pounced on the Alpha fucker like a wildcat, managed to get him to the ground, and was now grappling with him for dominance. It was a real fight, but a short one. If Dean couldn't fight Evans, then Charlie, who was half Dean size, had no chance, and she certainly wasn't stupid enough not to know that beforehand.
It didn't take more than a grunt before Kron easily rolled her underneath him and then wrapped his arms around her thin neck. His fingers were so big and so long that Charlie's throat disappeared under his grip. A pitiful grunt joined the Alpha's growl as the other Omega quickly ran out of air.
Dean knew it was only a matter of seconds before Charlie was dead. In fact, the Alpha had enough strength to crush her windpipe with one squeeze and he wouldn't even break a sweat.
But he had to enjoy it and that gave Dean some extra time.
Groggily, he pulled himself to his feet. He needed the support of the locker because everything was spinning before his eyes, his ribs ached so much that he could hardly breathe and his legs felt clammy. He pulled himself up, leaned against the counter, and the first thing he saw was the frying pan hanging on the wall. He grabbed it, took two hesitant steps toward the struggling couple, and swung.
Alpha looked up. Red eyes glittered, and the son of a bitch even managed to show fully extended fangs before the pan landed on his head.
The blow knocked Evans away from Charlie, who immediately seized the opportunity to duck and crawl to the line on all fours. Dean was only half aware of her escape as his opponent had just tried to pick himself up from the floor with a growl. So he didn't hesitate and swung a second time, delivering another blow to the Alpha's temple.
This time the Knot fell on his back and it was obvious that he was beginning to have a problem. His fangs had slipped back into his gums and the eyes he raised to Dean were still full of anger, but they weren't red and his gaze seemed a little unfocused. Seeing him so defenseless sent a dark wave through Dean. His Omega bristled, bared his teeth, and let out a growl he hadn't heard from her before. It was a desire to protect Charlie, to protect the puppy, even though Charlie wasn't his puppy and wasn't really a puppy at all, but there was something else as well. There was joy in it. He was in rare agreement with his Omega. They both liked having the Alpha at their feet and they both wanted his blood.
"STOP!" Evans yelled.
Dean froze in anticipation of the paralyzing feeling that came every time he heard Evan's Alpha's voice, but this time... this time it was like a caress on his mind. It was as if the voice was trying to use his nature and instincts against him, but his Omega didn't give in this time and reached out for the phantom hand that was trying to get it, and with it, Dean, into the Alpha's grasp.
The realization that he was free and that the Alpha's voice had no effect on him was so damn amazing. He bared his fangs in a snarl. His gums itched, saliva pooled in his mouth, and he felt that strange sensation in his eyes that made him pretty sure his pupils had just turned gold.
"Oh, it doesn't seem to be working on me anymore," he said mockingly, waving the pan around in approval, forcing a look of initial confusion to flicker across the Knot's face, but it was quickly replaced by unadulterated fear, complemented by the sour smell that overpowered even the rotting grapefruit. "What's the matter, Knotty? You're scared...?" He grinned and took a step towards the Alpha, who began to slowly slither backwards across the ground like a damned crab. "How does it feel to be defenseless and know that the other one can do whatever he wants with you?" Baring his teeth in another snarl, he swung a third time, delivering another hard blow to Alpha.
This time the blow was hard enough to spray a thin shower of blood onto Dean's shirt, and the knot finally hit the ground where he lay motionless. Like a frog on fire, arms and legs thrown apart. Dean stood over him, raising the skillet over his head and preparing for another, final blow that would make a damn pancake out of his ugly face. He'd knock out his teeth, smash in his nose, and watch his brain melt across the century-old tiles.
"Dean! No!"
Charlie's scream stopped him in his tracks as his arms were raised and swung over his head. He exhaled sharply. Everything inside him was tingling with a dark, angry energy, the main instigator of which was in fact his Omega. Something he considered a stupidly protective part of himself, full of weaknesses, useless emotions, annoying instincts and a sweet tooth. And yet it was this very part that growled in his ear to hit the Alpha. Let him end the life of a pig who was definitely one of those people who didn't deserve to live.
He gripped the pan tighter, inhaled slowly and turned his gaze to Charlie.
She was standing by the kitchen counter, leaning against it, gripping the edge, looking at him with wide, frightened eyes. The need to protect her rose in him again when he realized that she wasn't looking at Alpha in horror, but at him. She was afraid of him.
All the rage and the desire to beat the hell out of him vanished with the realization of what he was about to do. He was going to kill Evans. Murder him. In cold blood, while he was unconscious. Yeah, maybe the bastard deserved it for everything he'd done to the Omegas that had passed through this hellhole, for what he'd done to Dean himself, and... for Gilda, but it wasn't Dean who had the right to make such a judgment and carry out the execution. If he did, he would only be a murderer.
Pan slipped from his suddenly limp fingers and hit the ground with a thud.
Without thinking, he took a few small steps towards Charlie, who immediately met him, and before he could think, they were embracing somewhere on the path between the kitchen counter and the reclining Alpha. Their legs buckled underneath him - their Alpha would have been surprised at how little he could beat him - and they sank to the floor together. Dean buried his face in Charlie's neck, right on her scent gland, and breathed in her scent. Finally he could smell her. Her real scent with all of it, not just the vague sweetness and echoes of strong emotions. Orange blossom and cinnamon. Muted by those damned sub-resins, but still somehow familiar, as if she were perhaps one of the scents of his own family.
He breathed in her scent as she breathed in his, pressing her nose into his shoulder, and together they slowly calmed. Anger and fear, and with it all the adrenaline, gradually left his system to make way for pain. It crept in, belatedly but with full force, reminding him of a series of kicks to the ribs and a blow to the head.
He hissed in pain, pulled away from Charlie, and reached for the back of his head.
When he looked down at his hand, there was blood on it. He wasn't particularly surprised, the blow he'd taken was pretty hard, and head wounds always bled a lot. The skin there was thin and stretched to the bone, no flesh or muscle to cushion the blow.
He wiped his hand on his shirt and looked up at the other Omeza who was still holding him by the shoulders. His vision seemed a little blurry, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't see that the red-haired girl was looking at Evans. He quickly turned to him as well, afraid that he might have woken up, but the Knot was still lying on the ground, almost dead.
"Is he... is he dead?" Charlie asked, concern in her voice.
He didn't say look, just let her go and crawled on all fours to the Knot, expertly feeling his exposed neck. It was not difficult to feel the throbbing artery. His pulse was strong and regular, he was just unconscious. It wasn't surprising after a couple of blows to the head. If he had been a Beta or even an Omega he would have had his brain out by now, as an Alpha he had just taken a nap and some of the blood had stuck to his hair and spilled through the joints of the tiles.
"No," he answered the question, sitting down wearily on the floor. His breathing hurt, not to mention his head, so he was glad to at least get some relief from his swollen knee.
"This has gone horribly wrong. What do we do now?" was Charlie's next question. He didn't even know if she was asking him, but he decided to think about it. What should they do now? Well, a plan began to form in his head, and it wasn't much, but damn, this place was so fucked up that it was actually a good plan.
"Did you find out anything about Gilda?" He asked flatly. He should probably tell Charlie what he thought had happened to her girlfriend, but right now he needed her help.
"No. There was nothing on her. Just her old papers from Child and Youth Services."
"And the...pictures and videos?"
A sour taste of fear stung his nose before the other Omega answered.
"He had them in the secret part of the drive. It wasn't hard to get to them and make them visible. If we take the whole computer, the police will be able to verify that it's his and when he took the videos and pictures."
"Fine. Okay... now you have to do as I say," he said seriously, turning to her. "And this time you really have to, you understand, Red? Not like when I told you to do your thing and you decided to save me instead. That was terribly stupid. He could have killed you."
"And he definitely would have killed you if I hadn't come. You should be thanking me," she replied defensively.
He lifted his chin in a little pose, but let it drop again. He hated to admit it, but yes, she was right. If she hadn't shown up, the Alpha fucker would have kicked the shit out of him. Maybe that's how Gilda ended up.
"Okay... yeah, you're right. Thanks," he said vaguely, not liking these emotional outbursts and such; but Charlie smiled in return, her scent briefly sweetened with happiness, bringing a small, brief smile to Dean's face.
"You're welcome... Ron." She pouted.
He snorted. Maybe it was a little inappropriate to joke at this point, and dangerous considering Evans could wake up at any moment, but fuck it. Even a small improvement in the mood was welcome.
"You still have to do what I say," he said, reaching into one of Alph's pockets and then the other, where he found the large bunch of keys he was looking for. "Here..." He handed the keys to the other Omega. "Go, unlock them all and wake them up. Then take them downstairs, unlock the door and wait for me."
"What are you going to do?" He asked as she took the keys.
He hesitated for a moment, thinking if he should tell her the truth.
"I want to burn the damn place down," he finally decided to tell the truth.
Surprise bordering on amazement and a little fear was the first thing to appear on Charlie's face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by approval and determination. It was clear she liked the plan. However, when she looked up and her eyes fell on the unconscious Knot, she looked a little uncertain again.
"What are you going to do with him?" She asked, and Dean didn't have to be a genius to know that she was asking if she planned to leave him in the burning house.
"I'm taking him with us."
The other Omega was satisfied with that answer.
"Now go and get me when everyone's ready," he instructed her, and as soon as she was at the door, he called to her again: "And get me a clean shirt!"
Charlie replied in agreement and disappeared in the doorway, only to be heard running up the stairs a moment later. Dean relaxed with a long sigh. Everything hurt so damned much that he didn't even want to get up. He wanted to just lie down on the cold tile floor, close his eyes and sleep until the pain in his head and in every bruise and contusion on his body just went away, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had too much work to do.
He forced himself to move his stiff muscles and stood up.
His first step was to the sink. There was blood not only on his hands, but, as he only now fully realized, on his face and in his mouth, where it mixed with bitterness and cardamom and grapefruit. He turned on the water and held his hand under the stream first. He washed away the blood, then scooped up a palmful and rinsed his mouth as well. He gargled thoroughly and spat into the sink. He watched numbly as the pale pink water quickly thinned and disappeared down the drain, and suddenly the realization of whose blood it was hit him and his stomach turned.
He hadn't eaten the last time, he didn't even know when, so all he poured into the sink was a bit of bitter, foul-smelling stomach juice, which the running water quickly washed away. Still, the taste and the sight of the foaming contents of his stomach disappearing into the garbage reminded him of how pathetic he was. Like a goddamn whiny Omega. Nothing happened. No one knew and no one needed to know. Especially not his Alpha. If he found out, he wouldn't want him anymore and Dean wouldn't survive. He'll forget it. Burn the memories with this damn house. Yeah, that's what he'll do. Then it'll all be gone and it'll be better than the last time.
With a determined, decisive movement, he threw off his sweatshirt and pulled off his t-shirt. Both were stained with blood. The T-shirt was mostly his, but he could see a few drops on the sweatshirt, which belonged to Alpha. If the police got his clothes, they would have proof that he was the one who hit Evans with the frying pan. He had to get rid of the evidence.
He tied the sweatshirt and the T-shirt together and started looking for dry cleaners. There had to be one that was flammable. It didn't take long to find one that had a big sign on it warning that the product was flammable. He was damn glad such signs existed, because he had a hard time reading the label. The letters were blurry, they were moving, and he couldn't focus on them. He vaguely suspected that he might have a concussion or something, but that couldn't and wouldn't stop him.
He poured the detergent on his bundled clothes, then stuffed his shirt into the toaster, tucked the sleeve of his sweatshirt under the kitchen cabinet door, and finally set the toaster on high. That made it like a timer. It would be a while before the toaster got hot enough to set his clothes on fire. The cleaner would make sure that happened there, plus the fact that the shirt and sweatshirt would burn completely. Using the clothes will also bring the fire up. It would take a while for the gas from the running stove to reach him, and that would give them extra precious seconds to get out of the house safely and far enough away from him.
That was another thing he needed to do. Open the oven and turn on the gas, but he'd wait for Charlie to come back. As if on cue, the other Omega appeared in the doorway just as he was about to turn on the oven. She was wearing a white t-shirt, but also a sweatshirt, for which he was grateful. It must have been damn cold outside, he was sure.
"I don't know where he keeps our clothes," she pointed out as she handed him the boring clothes everyone had to wear here.
He was sorry to lose his things, especially his father's jacket, but they were just things. The important thing was to get everyone out of the house before it exploded.
"Whatever," he replied as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Where are the others?"
"They're waiting at the door."
"Then go. I'll take care of this," Charlie sent upstairs.
He waited until he was gone before pulling on his sweatshirt and returning to the oven. He opened it and turned the spigot on high. The subtle smell and faint hiss assured him that the gas was indeed on and leaking into the room. Then he pressed the toaster lever and leaned against the counter, exhaling through clenched teeth. He put a hand on his battered stomach and allowed himself a moment of rest as he watched the wires in the toaster glow and the substance begin to smolder. It was a horrible smell that only got worse as the first small flames erupted. He quickly jumped aside and watched as the fire ran up the bound clothes and instantly set the kitchen on fire.
"Fuck!"
The cabinets caught fire much faster than he had planned. Maybe it was because they were really old and filled with who-knows-what crap. Either way, the fire quickly jumped from one to the other with a loud crackling sound, and the kitchen began to fill with acrid smoke. They had much less time than he had planned.
He quickly ran over to Evans, grabbed both of his wrists and slung them over his shoulders as he bent over. Just like his dad had taught him and how he and Sam had practiced.
Alpha was damn heavy! Heavier than he'd first thought, which was to be expected. Alphas had dense bones and muscles, or at least that was what he remembered from science class, and that was why they weighed more than Betas or Omegas. But he didn't know how much heavier they were. After a few steps through the world to the door, filled with pain in his strained, battered muscles, his injured knee sagged so badly that he seriously considered just leaving the fucker behind. Just dump it and let it suffocate, but... shit. He couldn't do that. He wasn't a killer.
Get up, Winchester! he ordered in his mind, coughing and continuing.
Backwards, but quickly up the stairs. He could hear the crackling and roaring of the growing fire in his back as he did so, but the flames must have only eaten the ceiling for now, because the moment they got to the gas... well, then it probably wouldn't matter if he tried to save the Knot or not. They'd both blow up and meet God, if there is one, at the same time. Unless, of course, he was looking for a better place up in heaven, just for beating up Knot, but not killing him.
With some difficulty, he pushed through the rather narrow door leading to the hallway and saw a group of Omegas standing at the front door. Like some kind of trained animals that wouldn't be forced to flee by the smell of burning and the smoke that filled the hallway behind Dean.
"Go! Get the hell out!" He yelled on his way to the door.
Of course, it was Charlie who reacted first and opened the door.
"Hurry! Get everybody out!"
Surprisingly, it was Angelo who reacted next, grabbing Savanah and little Sybill by the arm and pulling them both out of the house. At this point, Dean stopped paying attention to what was going on around him and concentrated on getting Alpha out, who he was dragging on his back. He ran out of the lighted hallway onto the darkened staircase and began to roll heavily down the stairs. If getting Knot up the stairs was difficult, getting him down was even worse. Not only did every step hurt, but he still couldn't concentrate on the stairs properly. They swayed and fogged as if they were made of smoke and fog.
"I got him, brať," came a familiar voice, and the weight began to lift from his shoulders.
He looked up in surprise to see Jacob pulling Alpha onto his own shoulders and quickly making his way out through the garden. Dean leaned against the railing. He was on the last step and had the feeling that if he didn't rest for a second, he wouldn't take another step. At that moment Vadim grabbed him around the waist and tried to help him. But Dean shook his head.
"I can handle it. Keep an eye on the others, make sure they get away."
Surprisingly, the skinny Beta obeyed and ran over to the other Omegas, who had made it out but were now standing confused in the small courtyard, and began to rush them out.
Dean, still leaning against the railing, counted the blurry figures running through the open gate. He counted all five. He looked around the smoldering house, knowing it was the last time he would see it in one piece, which brought him a deep satisfaction. In a few seconds, there would be nothing left of the house Knotty loved to talk about but burning ruins.
A satisfied smile curled his lips, and then he ran quickly, but lamely, after the others.
"There's gas! Get down! It's going to blow up!" He actually shouted, not only to the Omegas and Alpha men,but also to the bystanders who had run over. Including the few who were trying to help the Omegas and, of course, Evans, who Jacob had put down on the pavement.
At the same moment Jacob turned from Evans and looked at Dean with a surprised expression, the house behind them gasped. It was a deep rumble. An omen. Then there was an explosion, accompanied by the shattering of glass and the mighty howl of fiery flames licking the night sky with their tongues. A wave of pressure pressed against Dean's back, along with unbearable heat. He almost couldn't stand it. In fact, he couldn't stop it at all. He staggered, and finally just gave up trying to stay on his feet and fell ass first onto the wet pavement.
"Dean!"
He blinked and looked up, his eyes unfocused.
He honestly expected it to be Jacob and Vadim, and there they were. They were hovering over Charlie, who crouched down beside him and placed a cold, wet hand on his cheek. It was then that he realized they were all wet, for despite the heat radiating from the nearby fire, a cold autumn rain was falling from the sky.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine," he answered automatically, although he wasn't sure if it was true. He felt like he was swimming in a tank. His ears were ringing, and while everything around him seemed to be covered in fog, Charlie's white face was all too clear.
"Here. Take this," he said, pulling the strap that led to a bag over his head. "This is Evans' laptop. You know what to do with it. I have to go."
"Wait... what? Where?" he didn't understand.
"I don't want to go to another foster home, even if it's a hundred times better than Sun Hill. I need to get away and find my Gilda. You're here to make sure Evans pays for everything," she said in a serious, firm, determined tone, but then a smile formed on her face and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Dean's shoulders and pulling him close. "Bye, Ron. And don't try to find me. It's best if we never see each other again," she said close to his ear, planted a quick kiss on his temple and stood up.
Alpha's men standing over him didn't stop her from leaving, and neither did Dean. He just watched as she ran past the gathered Omegas seeking safety from each other and disappeared into the remarkably large, roaring crowd that had gathered in the street.
Sirens could be heard in the distance.
Dean pulled bag onto his lap.
He looked around at the burning house.
Flames were hungrily consuming the old, weathered wood. They swirled, twisted, and thick smoke came out of them. Black and blacker.
The last thing Dean noticed before the smoke engulfed him and the emptiness with it was that he fell to his side and someone's warm hands caught him.
Chapter Text
He raised his hand and touched a piece of gauze taped to the back of his head. He yelped in pain. It was uncomfortable to touch that spot, but having the bandage there was even more uncomfortable, so he ripped it off in one motion.
"Shit!" He cursed as the bandage pulled out a few hairs, and in the next instant he pressed his fingertips to his temple and cheek. His head was shaking. He didn't know if it was better or worse after the injection, but it still hurt. If only he could get to that cruel, dull pressure in his brain and rip it out.
He sighed, frustrated and resigned at the same time, and looked around.
He was surrounded by a drawn hospital curtain in an ugly faded green, behind which passing medics and patients milled about. Dean himself was sitting on a hospital bed covered with a disposable paper sheet, a short distance from the bed was one of those vital signs carts and some other machines. One of them must have been an oxygen tank, because there was a tube leading from it to the mask they'd forced on him right after he'd gotten here. Something about smoke inhalation and burned bronchi. Fortunately, the beta doc only had to examine him and listen to his lungs, so he didn't need the mask. Then she sewed up his head wound and warned him that he had a concussion. Breakthrough diagnosis! He already knew that. He had hit his head on the metal railing and had several of the symptoms: persistent headache, dizziness, blurred vision, and even loss of consciousness. Even a trained chimpanzee would know what was wrong with him.
He swallowed through the lump in his mouth and closed his eyes as the horrible light stung them, the sounds were too loud and the smells too intense. He had to lie down for a while. Just for a moment, until the detectives arrived. The cops who had come to question him about the fire had promised to call them. He'd asked directly for the two clowns who'd come to SunHill and refused to talk to anyone else, which the cops, surprisingly, respected. And they looked at him strangely, too. Well... it was quite possible that they had questioned the others who hadn't been as badly hurt as Dean first, and they had started talking about Evans and what was going on at Sun Hill, and that was why they had been so nice and tolerant to Dean.
Anyway, he just didn't want to talk to regular cops in uniform, he wanted the Ballard and the Alpha he'd met the last time, because... well, for a moment he got the impression that the Beta detective was really interested, and as much as he didn't trust the police, at least he knew this one. And that counted.
Slowly he lowered himself onto the hospital bed and pulled the computer bag to his chest. He held it the whole time. He refused to give it up even when they loaded him into the ambulance - under the watchful eyes of Jacob and Vadim - and when he finally arrived at the emergency room, he very firmly refused to give up both the bag and his clothes to the nurse. It didn't matter that it was a little bloodied and smelled of smoke.
"Omega Dean..." someone's voice cut through his eardrum.
He opened his eyes abruptly, jerked himself into a sitting position, and with a grunt pulled himself up on the bed until his back hit the wall the bed was pressed against. And showed his teeth to whoever had disturbed him.
"Calm down, Omega. Nothing's wrong," said the Alpha, whose voice was as distantly familiar as his scent; a bit of pungent jam and tar.
When the familiar Beta detective appeared beside the Alpha a moment later, he realized that he was the Alpha detective.
He hadn't recognized him for a while, so confused was he by the concussion, and besides... he'd only seen him once in his life anyway. Besides, he didn't have to remember everyone he'd ever met.
Swallowing a growl, he pushed his bedraggled Omega into the corner and moved all the way down the bed, throwing his legs over the edge. Sitting up again made his head spin, but there was no way he was going to stay lying down while he talked to the unknown Alpha. It wasn't like he thought the detective could hurt him.
They were in a damn hospital, and not all Alphas were like the bastard in whose hands he'd experienced some pretty unpleasant things over the past few days. But his instincts rebelled at the mere presence of a strange Alpha, and his inner Omega was on high alert.
"It's good to see you again, Deana," the Beta said pleasantly, approaching cautiously. "May I sit down?"
He frowned slightly but nodded.
"Sure, whatever. I don't care," he replied with a shrug, but he also cast a wary glance at the Alpha, who was a good two steps away, spreading a protective Alpha scent around him that was probably meant to make Dean feel safe as an Omega, but was actually more of an irritant.
It wasn't the scent of his Alpha, and that was the only scent he wanted at the moment. All he wanted was to curl up in Cas's arms, bury his head in his neck and sleep for at least a week.
Come on, Winchester, don't act like a princess. You've got work to do. You promised Charlie something, he mentally reminded himself, true to his resolve to give what they'd found to the police. He might as well have given it to Castiel, Jacob and Vadim were surely around somewhere, even if he hadn't seen them since the ambulance door had closed behind him, but... As much as he liked the idea of Cas literally skinning the Alpha fucker, he also didn't want his Alpha to know what was going on at the shelter. If he knew, he might... No, he couldn't let Castiel know that he wasn't the perfect virgin Omega (God, it was stupid to think of himself that way) that his Alpha thought he was. But that she was a used one. He hadn't told him about Maine, and he wasn't going to tell him about Sun Hill.
The Beta detective sat down next to him as soon as he pulled his laptop out of his bag.
"This is for you," he said, simply placing it on Beta's knee. "It belongs to Evans...I'm sure his fingerprints and DNA and stuff will prove it. Maybe even find bills or something. I don't know, that's your job. Anyway... there are videos and pictures of the Omegas he had in his care and what... well, all the things he did to them."
"What are you talking about, Omega?" Alpha asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"You don't know anything?" He asked back, looking from one to the other; neither of them seemed to know what they were talking about or what a computer in the hands of a Beta could contain. "Damn!" He snorted, then sighed and rubbed his face with his hands; if only his head would stop throbbing... Then he looked up at them. "I am not a victim. I will never testify or otherwise cooperate with the police, okay? So what I'm going to tell you now... think of it as... I don't know... maybe an anonymous tip," he said firmly, because no, he was not going to testify. He wasn't ever going to go back to what happened in Sun Hill, and besides, any testimony he gave could hurt himself, and he wasn't an idiot to... how to say it... compromise himself. "Shit was going on at SunHill. Evans was abusing Omegas there. He was starving them, making them wear collars," he unconsciously touched his own neck, where the ugly, thick collar had been until the paramedics cut it open and took it off on the way to the hospital, "locking them in their rooms, beating them, locking them in this little closet in the kitchen. And he did other things to them...things...you know what I mean. And he took pictures and videos," he added, tapping his finger on the still-closed laptop.
Alpha and Beta exchanged glances, and actually, surprisingly, he got a whiff of bitter anger from both of them.
From Ballard it smelled a little like urine, which was really bad, and from Alpha (Sheridan?) it was definitely hot tar.
None of the detectives said anything, but Ballard opened the laptop. Somewhat surprisingly, it opened without requiring a password, but Dean guessed that Charlie had arranged it that way.
"It should be on a hidden part of the drive..."
Beta tapped on the file icon, and the window that opened did indeed link not only to cloud storage and internal storage, but also to something labeled "Hidden Drive"; the kind of funny thing was that this computer didn't have a hard drive anymore. There was a menu of videos and photos, and when Ballard opened the photos, there was a huge list of folders labeled with names and sorted alphabetically. The first one was "Angelo" and when Beta opened the folder, it actually showed his photos. The first one actually looked quite ordinary. Omega was wearing shorts and a tank top and was barefoot. He was also wearing some makeup, some eyeliner, mascara and pink lipstick. Dean had never been much into makeup, but he would occasionally line his eyes with liner.
Angel's makeup was too Omega or feminine for his taste, but yeah, still pretty normal. Everything in the picture was normal.
Omega was just sitting on the couch in the Knot's office, relaxed and seemingly content, and didn't seem to mind being photographed.
Ballard moved on to the next photo, and the next, and the next. Then Dean turned his eyes to the overhead light.
He didn't know Angel very well, but he suspected that there were things the other Omega didn't want Dean to see, so he respected that. Enough that the Beta detective saw it.
"Look at this," the Beta said and stood up to show the computer to her colleague.
The two of them scrolled through the photos together, tense expressions on their faces, as if trying to maintain a professional composure, but at the same time concerned by what they were seeing. Dean could only guess what was on the screen.
Finally, the Beta cop handed the computer to her partner and turned to him with an expression that already gave him a hint of what she wanted to talk to him about.
"Dean -"
"No," he cut her off before she could ask any questions. "I've made it clear; I'm not going to work with you. No interrogation, no investigation, nothing," he refused firmly, causing the Alpha detective to frown as his colleague came to the bedside.
"I understand it's hard to talk about what happened at Sun Hill..."
"If it's any consolation, he didn't do anything to me. Not what's probably in those pictures and videos," he interrupted her a second time. "That's all I'm going to say, and I'm pretty sure you can't make me talk."
"No, we can't," Ballard nodded.
"But anything you tell us can help us put the perpetrator in jail," Alpha joined her, surprisingly mostly silent like last time.
"I don't care if that Alpha fucker goes to jail. I'm just glad I got out," he replied; he didn't want to talk, let alone testify.
"We want to help you," Beta said quietly.
"If you really want to help me, you'll just let me go..." he said, and of course he didn't even wait for an answer before grinning. "But I guess you can't do that. So I'll try something easier... how about my Alpha? I want to see him at least."
"Your Alpha father is still in prison awaiting trial," the Alpha replied.
"You know very well I'm not talking about him."
The Beta policewoman trailed off, and a nasty whiff, along with a hint of bitterness, let her know that she probably didn't like Castiel. Dean's Omega growled slightly in defense of his Alpha, but Dean didn't let her speak for him. Ballard could hate Case to death, she couldn't threaten him, and that was all that mattered. And Dean certainly wasn't going to do or say anything that would give her a weapon against his Alpha.
"Alpha Novak is a very dangerous man, Dean," he said with ridiculous seriousness; as if Dean didn't already know that. "Much more dangerous than you probably realize. The last thing you should do is see him again, now or at any time in the future. Yes, I know you want to see him and you think he's your Alpha, but he's not. He just wants to use you. To hurt you..."
Dean chuckled. What kind of nonsense was she talking about?
"Hurt me? Castiel never hurt me. He protected me. I could have lived in his apartment. He even gave me a bloody nesting bed!" He growled, really, baring his teeth a little. "He's my True Mate. He cares about what I want and what I think. And no one ever cared. He won't do anything bad to me. No, something like that," he finished, louder than he probably should have, pulling his shirt and sweatshirt together in one motion.
Revealing his bruised chest. Some were already discolored and had come to him when he'd fallen down the stairs, others were just beginning to fade. Especially the ones on his left side where the stunted Knot had kicked him today. All of them together turned his skin a palette of purple and red.
It was a sight that made even the seasoned Beta detective inhale sharply and her Alpha colleague growl.
"This is the help, care, and protection I've gotten from this fucking system! So don't tell me that my Alpha is dangerous! Yeah, maybe he is... maybe he isn't, I don't care. I know he's no danger to me, and that Sammy and I were better off when he took care of us!" He tossed his sweatshirt aside and pulled his shirt back on with another quick movement, half realizing that the drugs he had been given must have been pretty strong, because with injuries like that... well, he probably wouldn't be able to raise his arms to shoulder height tomorrow. "You have no idea who's really dangerous. I don't need your well-meaning advice or your help. You have the laptop. You have the other Omegas from the shelter. Do what you want with them and leave me alone!" He shoved his hand angrily into the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
"Just because one Alpha beats you less than another doesn't mean he's better," Beta told him like he was stupid.
"He's not beating me!" He replied flatly. A well-deserved slap wasn't a real beating, he was pretty sure of that now, after what he had endured at Evans' hands. The torn corner of his lip was nothing compared to that. "Those bruises weren't from him. I got into a fight at school. How many times have I... no!" He held his hands up in a dismissive gesture. "Just no. I'm not talking to you anymore. Go, and when you leave, pull the curtain behind you," he ended abruptly, and to show that he really had no intention of continuing the conversation, he simply lay down on the bed and ostentatiously turned his back on the detectives.
He knew they were still there, he was aware of their presence and the disgruntled smell of tar from the Alpha, but for a moment there was silence and nothing happened until he heard someone lean over him and then a warm hand rested on his upper arm. And it enveloped him in a Beta scent, but an unusually strong and very clearly protective one.
"Okay, Dean. We'll leave you in peace, but we'll still come by if you change your mind... about testifying and helping with the case," she told him, which he wasn't too happy about, but at least she and her colleague were on their way.
He heard the rustle of fabric and the creak of a curtain being pulled in and out, and then their footsteps, quickly lost in the general hubbub of the emergency. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. The smell of disinfectant, vomit, shit, piss and blood was everywhere. And general disease and suffering. It was much stronger than it had been a few days ago in the doctor's room, where he had been examined and covered with a mixture of odor neutralizers - they couldn't work with that much smell - and the smell of the staff. The usual mix of Beta smells, with a few Omegas - they said there weren't many of them working in the ER - and the dominant Alpha smells that probably belonged to the doctors. He wished he could get out of here soon. Back to... the Alpha's lair. To the smell of cherries baked with honey in a fresh cake topped with almond crumble.
Suddenly his nostrils flared as he unconsciously caught the familiar scent. And a moment later, his Omega began to rebel, growling excitedly, "My Alpha, my mate!
Dean opened his eyes and sucked in the air. There was something in the general smell that reminded him of Castiel, but... but that couldn't be right. He'd been here for hours. If Castiel could have come, he would have been here long ago, right? But since he wasn't here, that meant something was keeping him from coming.
The curtain behind him creaked, and the smell of roasting cherries, tinged with bitter almonds and sour fear, hit Dean's nose with all its force.
His heart raced wildly. He was afraid to believe that what he felt was real. That it wasn't just a figment of his wounded brain and the foolish hope that he wouldn't be forgotten and abandoned. Or the foolish longing of his whimpering Omega, now rising in an enthusiastic howl inside him.
"Dine..." a voice, as hoarse and flowing as expensive whiskey and tinged with an accent, drowned out everything around him. The noise of the ward, the beeping of all sorts of machines... hell, even the distant moan of a patient.
He held his breath and his excitement and slowly turned around.
His Alpha was there, and he was damn real.
He stood proudly upright, as he always did, holding the sling in his hand and looking fierce. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, his tie was loose, as were the top few buttons of his shirt, he wasn't wearing a jacket, and his eyes were wide and dark blue, like a stormy sky.
Shit!
He was on his feet faster than was healthy. His head was spinning, but he didn't fucking care. Everything in him, his Omega and all his instincts, drove him towards his Alpha. He grabbed his shirt blindly with one hand, buried the other in his already disheveled hair, and kissed it desperately. He tasted the distant notes of tea and some sweet pastries, almost drowned out by the almost sickeningly intense smell of cigarettes. The smell of cigarettes also wafted from Castiel's clothes, intensifying as he cupped Dean's cheeks in his hands and returned the kiss. Hard and passionate, all teeth and a slick, big tongue sweeping over Dean's mouth almost desperately in the wrong direction. As if he was kissing Dean for the last time and he knew it. That kind of desperation, untempered by passion and hunger, was uncharacteristic of Alpha.
At the sound of a wet munch, Dean pulled away and looked his Alpha in the face. The lines around the corners of his reddened mouth were thin with tension, but his eyes were filled with the intense interest and warmth that Dean had always imagined belonged only to him. That he was the only person in the world who could evoke such emotions in this literally murderous Alpha.
"Dine..." the Alpha breathed, leaning forward and beginning to run his nose over Dean's cheek and jaw, and you could hear him sniffing. "Moya lyubov... Moy sladkiy Omega... Ty v poryadke, dorogoy? Are you okay?"
He wanted to scream that yes, he was finally okay now, but before he could say anything, the euphoric happiness he felt when his nose was full of baked cherries and honey was diluted by a fit of rage.
"Yeah, yeah, I am," he replied sharply, grabbing Castiel's shirt in his fists and pulling him close to him, showing his teeth with a snarl. "Where the hell have you been for so long?!"
He suspected it was an unfair rebuke. If his Alpha could have come to him sooner, he certainly would have. But he'd rather pass on his remorse than cry his happiness like a little Omega girl. His eyes were burning anyway.
Castiel pulled away a little, a shadow running across his face that definitely held suppressed anger. You could see it in the tension of his jaw and the way the scent of almonds pierced through the cherries. For a long, threatening moment, Dean feared he'd pissed him off with his reproach. Whether he wanted to or not, the smell of an angry Alpha reminded him of kicks and the darkroom. But of course his Alpha wasn't angry with him.
"I tried to get you into my custody legally. It should have been easy... a little lawyer rat told me it wouldn't take more than a few days, but..." He gritted his teeth and snarled, more frustrated than angry, then dug his fingers into the hair at the back of Dean's neck, where he pressed that ghostly spot that always made him want to lower his head.
He dropped his chin to his own chest and let out a sigh of relief when Cas pressed his face to the side of his head and began to inhale his Omega scent deeply and audibly.
"Things got complicated, but that doesn't matter now, moy sladkiy. I'm taking you home."
He takes him home. He's taking him to his house. To his lair. The thought sent a wave of excitement through Dean, and a wave of relief. He would finally be safe. He would be able to curl up in a shared nest with his Alpha and sleep for three damn days, sleeping off the pain that awaited him when the medication wore off. And he'll forget all the shit he's been through these past few days. It was perfect… too perfect, actually.
It wasn't until Castiel's words really penetrated his numb brain - see, he hadn't slept or eaten properly in days, and he had a concussion to boot - that he realized their meaning. The Alpha had talked about legal custody, did that mean he would take him out of here without permission from the authorities? Like, yes, Dean wouldn't mind in a way; they could take one of Alpha's luxury cars, buy supplies at the nearest gas station, and be out of town before anyone even noticed he was gone. But there were two big buts. If he ran off with Cas, he'd probably never see Sammy again, certainly not until his little brother was eighteen, and the other problem was that it would probably be a kidnapping or something. He was a big boss in the Russian Mafia, and as funny as it sounded, that meant a lot of responsibility.Too many people depended on Castiel. Good guys, like Jacob and Vadim or Pyotr… after all, Boris or Redhead and Mr. Eyebrows weren't bad either. Yeah, Yuri could go to hell, but you know what they said; don't judge a pack by Beta, judge it by Alpha. Castiel had to keep his integrity.
He pulled away and looked his Alpha seriously in the eye.
"What does that mean legally?"
"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm getting you out of here," Castiel replied, putting an arm around Dean's shoulders and pushing him, trying to get him to move, but Dean didn't move.
"Answer me, Cas. What does it mean to legally take custody?"
Castiel gave him a sharp look and showed his teeth in a small, angry snarl. Probably to get him to cooperate, as if that ever worked with Dean. The Alpha would have to get a lot angrier to comply.
He lifted his chin defiantly, straightened his back and looked the Alpha in the eye defiantly, determined not to move an inch until he got an answer and decided if it was safe for Case to go with him or not.
The Alpha returned his gaze for a moment before his features relaxed and resignation appeared in his eyes.
"Ya skhozhu po tebe s uma... " he murmured with a sigh. "You're not coming with me until you get an answer, are you?" he asked, to which Dean just raised his eyebrows significantly. "There's a law here in New York that allows an Alpha to petition for custody of any dependent Omega. I wanted to get such custody, but it wasn't as easy as it first looked."
"Does that mean if you take me away from here, it will be something like kidnapping?"
"No," Castiel replied, to his small relief, which vanished the next moment as the Alpha continued, "it won't just be 'something like kidnapping,' it will be kidnapping… technically."
So it was exactly what he'd feared.
"In that case, I'm not going with you," he decided firmly.
The Alpha narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side in confusion.
"You're not going?"
"No." He shook his head. "I'm not. If I disappear, you'll be the first one the police come to. They'll suspect you of kidnapping me or even doing something to me. I won't let you get into trouble because of me."
The blue lagoons filled with a warmth that was decidedly appreciative, but there was also a gentle amusement in Castiel's eyes as he spoke in that indulgent tone that so annoyed Dean.
"I'm not afraid of cop dogs. I can take care of them easily. You don't have to worry about me. Just do what I tell you, keep your back to the wall, and everything will be fine."
"This isn't just about you," he replied, earning a surprised raised eyebrow. "You're the leader of the pack. Your men need you. What would happen if you ended up in prison, huh?" he asked pointedly. "I don't know much about such things, but I don't think it would be very good. You have to... you know... keep your cover and... " He paused because he was about to say something serious and felt stupid. But then he shook off the embarrassment and raised his chin proudly. "I am your Omega. It is my duty to help you. I have a responsibility not only to you, but to... our pack. Do you understand?"
He didn't know where all this came from and maybe he had hit his head a little harder than he thought and got a little confused up there in the lighthouse. Maybe he'd taken more rights than Castiel was willing to give him. It looked like it, because Castiel didn't move and his face remained unreadable for so long that the determination had almost drained out of Dean, replaced by a sense of shame and rejection. He shouldn't have done this shit. What had he thought?
Suddenly, the Alpha moved. A solid body leaned into Dean and he staggered under its weight, staggered all the way to the hospital bed. He only had time to catch the edge of the paper-covered sheet and grab Cas's shoulder with his other hand before his mouth was engulfed in another savage kiss that took his breath away. It lasted for a gloriously long time, making his head spin. Or maybe it was the sudden movement that just shook his poor battered brain even more.
Alpha finally pulled away with a sigh.
"You're right..." Castiel ran his thumb over his lower lip, and Dean grabbed the wrist of one of the hands that were resting on his face. "You're absolutely right. Taking you away will cause a lot of trouble, but what can I do if I leave you here?" He asked, his voice thicker and his accent a bit thicker than it had been a moment ago.
"You can. I can do this," he assured him, though he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go through the hell he'd been through the last few days himself again. Still, he hoped his scent didn't show any fear or anything, and he was kind of grateful that the suppressant kept his scent muted. "You have to do the guardianship thing. It's the only way the authorities will be able to keep us apart. And then we'll find Sam..." he let the hopeful sound fade into nothingness.
"You almost died when I wasn't around!" growled Alpha with a hint of possessiveness.
"Yeah, almost, but not quite. I'm fine, aren't I, Alpha?" he said, using his years of honed talent for lying to sound convincing, and from the way the tension in Castiel's wrist relaxed, his shoulders slumped a little, his lips covered his teeth, and something glistened in his eyes... he was pretty sure he'd succeeded in convincing Alpha.
Suddenly, Castiel moved forward again, pressing his nose to his neck, tilting his head and letting him smell his scent gland; maybe that would calm Alpha down, even if he didn't smell as intensely as he usually did, and then he would be easier to convince.
"You don't smell right," he said as he pulled away again.
"It's nothing. They gave me some medicine. This shit does weird things to the smell," he replied as convincingly as he had before, running his hand up Castiel's arm, over his scent gland, which he lightly brushed, ending its journey on his cheek. "You need to leave me here, Cas. I'll take care of myself and wait until I can leave with you. Yeah?"
The Alpha could be seen clenching his jaw, but he nodded in agreement.
"Da. We'll do it that way. But I promise I'll do everything I can to speed things up," he promised in a tone that made it clear that everything really meant everything. Such a realization had never frightened Dean, and this time even more so. His inner Omega fully agreed with his Alpha as he walked over the dead man's body, and Dean leaned forward to kiss Castiel gratefully as the curtains parted to their right.
They both turned their heads in that direction.
A low growl, accompanied by the smell of burning tar, cut through the air.
In the next instant, a cloud of bitter almond scent exploded around Dean, Castiel's golden fangs glinting as he bared his teeth, his menacing growl joining the deep growl of the Alpha Detective.
Castiel tensed as the Alpha detective took a half-step forward; it was the Beta who first stepped in front of her Alpha colleague, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. Dean followed her lead, more by instinct than any rational awareness, and stood in front of Castiel. Unlike the Beta, however, he stood with his back to his Alpha, both to stop him - his warm, lean body leaning against his back - but also to move the police to face him together.
"It's okay, Detective Sheridan," Beta reassured her colleague, who oddly enough stopped growling immediately, though he continued to glare at the other Alpha with hostility before turning back to Dean and Castiel. "Alpha Novak... what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, Detective Ballard?" Castiel asked in return; not surprisingly, he knew both detectives. "My Mate is in the hospital. There's nowhere else I should be but here."
"I'm not going to ask how you know where Dean is. I'm just saying you need to leave now. We need to question Dean and your presence is interfering with the investigation," Ballard replied unfriendly.
He'd made it clear that he wouldn't cooperate with them anymore, but after the way he'd abruptly regaled his Alpha about the Alpha detective, he didn't want to bring it up. Worse things could happen.
"Fine. Give us a few minutes. Alone time," he insisted.
The detectives looked at each other as if they could communicate wordlessly or whatever, then the Alpha gave Castiel a hard look and finally nodded.
"We'll be a short distance away," he said.
And just as he said, they did. They left the curtains open and stood about five paces to the side so they could be seen, and of course, they both kept their eyes on Dean and Castiel.
"You can't trust that Alpha," Castiel growled half-loud.
Really? Did he have to remind him not to trust the police? Did he think Dean was stupid? He frowned at his Alpha.
"Don't worry about it. I don't trust the cops and I won't tell them anything. I can handle it, okay?"
"It's not that he's a pyos. He's... dangerous in other ways," Castiel replied vaguely, much to Dean's confusion, but before he could ask what he meant, his Alpha grabbed his chin and lifted his face to his. Blue eyes filled with warmth and his voice became lighter, tinged with a growl. "Be careful, lyubov' moya, and be patient. It won't be long before I come for you."
"Yeah, I know. I trust you, Alpha," he replied, bowing his head in a silent offer of the mark, praying earnestly that Alpha would honor it. Maybe he wouldn't want to do that with the cops watching him, or... for other reasons that came to Dean's mind; unwanted and unwelcome.
But Castiel didn't hesitate; he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his chin against his hair; the scent of marker pheromones, typically cherry for his Alpha, filled the air all around and Dean exhaled in relief, savoring the few too brief moments before the Alpha pulled away; at least his scent remained and at least partially drowned out the smell of smoke that clung to Dean not only on his clothes, but in his hair and on his skin.
"My men will always be close," Cas promised, and for a moment it looked like he was going to kiss Dean, but then he glanced over his shoulder and instead of kissing him, he let go and took a step back. Dean knew rationally that he couldn't kiss him in front of the cops, but his Omega whimpered in frustration.
"I'll be waiting for you to come get me," he assured him one last time.
Castiel just nodded, turned, and disappeared behind a half-drawn curtain. Dean watched as his receding silhouette disappeared among the other silhouettes. no sooner was he gone than Dean heard two pairs of approaching footsteps behind him. His head was killing him and his body was starting to hurt too, probably as the painkillers wore off, and all he wanted was to get this over with and curl up in a ball on the uncomfortable hospital bed and get some sleep.
"Are you okay, Dean?" the Beta cop asked worriedly. She was probably foolishly thinking that maybe Cas could do something to him or something stupid like that.
"We didn't do anything we weren't supposed to," he said instead of answering her stupid question. "Hugging and scent marking aren't forbidden. I checked."
"No, it's not illegal, but not everything that's not forbidden by law is right," the Alpha pointed out.
He really didn't have the energy for this kind of philosophical shit anymore, so he decided to cut to the chase.
"What more do you want? I told you I'm not going to testify."
"According to witnesses, you carried Alpha Evans out of the house, which means you have his blood on your clothes. Your clothes are evidence. We need you to hand them over," Alpha replied, at least he didn't try to be more comforting or convincing and just said what he wanted.
"Fine. Get me some other clothes and then you'll get what you want," he agreed wearily.
Moments later, the nurse came in with a similar tracksuit to the one he was already wearing, nicely wrapped in an airtight plastic bag. Dean willingly disposed of the bloody and smelly clothes and put on clean clothes, free of odor and hard blood stains.
His old clothes ended up in the evidence bag.
Chapter Text
He leaned his head against the window and looked out at the pedestrians they passed, unconcerned. He felt numb. And his Omega was unusually quiet, cowering in the corner of his mind, even though he wasn't directly driving her there. He guessed it was the concussion and probably the medication he'd had to swallow this morning on doctor's orders, but he didn't really care. He somehow didn't care about anything, including the apology and expression of gratitude he'd gotten from Angel (and which the other Omega boy had taken out on the other Omegas at the shelter), the fact that he was away from his Alpha again and didn't know where Sammy was. Or that he was finally able to eat properly after many days, and then take a shower (with the supervision of his Omega medical brother, who was supposed to check that his concussion didn't make him faint in the warm shower), and even the small fact that a well-known Beta from Child and Youth Services was taking him to another foster home.
"Sonny and I have worked together for years," Mosely chimed in, "and he's a good friend of mine. I've placed several charges with him. He doesn't usually take Omegas, but when I told him about you, he immediately agreed to take care of you. You'll be safe with him."
That last sentence gave Dean a kick in the pants. He turned to Beta with a grin.
"Safe as in SunHill?" He asked caustically.
"I never wanted you to go to SunHill, believe me, Dean. I contacted Sonny as soon as I left you there and I've been trying to get you out ever since, but these things aren't that easy. There are laws and rules."
"I have no reason to trust you," he replied, and to show that he didn't want to talk anymore, he just turned back to the window.
Beta seemed to understand, because she said nothing more. He was grateful for that. He really wasn't in the mood to talk to her or anyone else.
So the rest of the trip passed in complete silence, and they didn't even speak when Beta stopped on a street full of older, three- and four-story houses. The kind that had wide stone staircases rising from the sidewalk and living quarters even lower down the stairs. A pretty safe and quiet neighborhood at first glance, except maybe for an old homeless man sitting on a cardboard box on the steps of one of the houses across the street, holding a dirty can in his hand. People walked by without paying any attention to him, and he just sat there motionless, his head bowed and his arms outstretched with the can in front of him. A picture of how one person's life can be successful and another's completely hopeless.
He tore his eyes away from the homeless man and ran after Beta, who was a few steps ahead of him, waiting for him. Or rather, he wasn't running. The medication had dulled the pain, but it was still there. His sore knee made it hard to walk, his bruised ribs made it hard to breathe, and his concussion made the cracks in the asphalt flash before his eyes.
Beta rang one of the bells by the door. A child's voice answered. A boy perhaps younger than Sam, and after she explained who she was and why she had come, the boy opened the door.
The short hallway ended in a staircase leading to the next floor, and there were doors on either side of the hallway. One, with a large doormat that said "Welcome" in front of it, was open and a boy of about eight was standing in it. As they approached him, Dean could tell it was Beta. He smelled faintly of pineapple, was a bit chubby, wore round glasses with many diopters, had dark skin, and short-cropped black hair with sparse curls. And when he saw Mosely, he smiled broadly.
"Missouri!" He exclaimed excitedly.
Beta from Child Care laughed, reached for the boy, and pulled him into her arms. He immediately hugged her back and tilted his head to look at her.
"You haven't been here long," he read to her.
"I know, Timmy. I've been busy here with Dean," she replied, nodding in Dean's direction.
The boy let go of her, stepping back and straightening his glasses, his curious gaze fixed on Dean.
"Are you the Omega who will be living with us now?"
"Yeah, sort of..." he said vaguely, frowning. He was in no mood for a curious puppy, and he was so numb that the presence of a small child did not even wake his Omega, which unfortunately happened more often than he liked. He was not and would not be one of those Omegas who degenerated their higher brain functions every time a puppy got in their way.
"Yes, that must be him," a male voice came from the apartment, and the next moment it owner appeared in the doorway, putting his hands on Timmy's shoulders and adding: "Go back in the kitchen and finish your sandwich. And don't forget to put your plate and glass in the sink."
The puppy wrinkled his nose in annoyance, but did as the man said. Dean glanced at its disappearing back, then finally focused on the owner of the shelter. He was about Cas' size, muscular and built like an Alpha. He had overgrown hair that fell down to his neck and a strange furry dead animal under his nose instead of a mustache. He was dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt from some Walmart or something. And his expression and the look in his brown eyes was calm and confident, just as his steps were confident as he stepped out into the hallway.
Wait... the way he held his shoulders and the way his nostrils flared when he stopped next to Mosely.
Dean sucked in air.
He couldn't smell the woman from the daycare, she didn't have a distinct scent, but this 'Sonny' definitely did, albeit muffled by blockers, and it was the scent of fucking Alpha; hibiscus, tea, and musk.
Dean immediately bared his fangs and took a defensive stance, making it clear and loud that he would bite the Alpha if he came near. But the Alpha didn't. He raised his hands, palms up, and lowered his head, exposing his neck, while continuing to stare at Dean.
"I'm not coming any closer until you let me, Dean," he said in a voice that was both calm and firm, with Alpha's soothing purr in it.
"Yeah, right!" He snapped, glaring at Mosely with an angry expression. "Is this a fucking joke? I pull one Knothead out of my ass and you shove another one up my ass?"
"How we treat others affects how they treat us. All you ever get for rudeness is rudeness," came some philosophical bullshit from Alpha.
"Sonny's home is nothing like SunHill. You'll be safe here," Beta assured him, as if he could still trust her.
"And what if I don't want to stay here? Will you take me otherwise?"
"If you don't want to stay, Miss Missouri will find another foster home for you, but how about you go in and talk to my boys first?" Alpha suggested, stepping back from the door to wave his hand. "You can stay for dinner and sleep over and then decide if you like it here."
He stared at the Alpha for long seconds, right into his eyes, waiting for the Knot to lose patience with the defiant Omega and somehow make himself known. He showed his teeth, growled, or just flashed irritation in his eyes, but this Sonny didn't move a muscle. And when Dean sniffed the air again, all he felt was the sweet scent of hibiscus seeping through the blockers, overpowering the much weaker scent of tea. This Alpha didn't smell like Evans, didn't command like Evans, didn't look condescending like Evans. Yes, it could all have been a trick, but...
He glanced at the door to the apartment and then at Beta, who had brought him here and who gave him an encouraging smile. He figured he had no choice but to stay here until his Alpha came for him. And if it was even a little better than SunHill, it would be a victory.
He lifted his chin, letting it be known that he was definitely not a submissive Omega who would sit on his ass in front of an Alpha, and walked past Beta and then the Alpha into the apartment.
The apartment was one room, not very big, but not tiny either. To the left of the door was a large sofa, probably even a sofa bed, and two easy chairs, and some sort of table on which were the TV remotes, a book, a car magazine and glasses, and a couple of Coke cans and some other crumpled papers. The windows that faced the street were in little alcoves that were lined with wood and had cushions thrown on them so you could sit there. Then there was the kitchen. Normal and ordinary, with a fridge, a microwave, everything, including a rather large table surrounded by a total of six chairs. Timmy was sitting on one of them and eating a sandwich. The kitchen was separated from the small hallway by an extra wall that ran the length of the room and ended right across from the front door. And from the resulting hallway, several doors led to other rooms.
Dean guessed that this whole house had originally been built for one family, but over the years they had divided it into several units, which made it look a little strange.
He sucked in air.
The apartment smelled strongly of hibiscus and tea, but he could also detect some faint Beta smells, the smell of food, the usual household cleaners, sweaty feet and fish. The house just smelled... normal. Like a perfectly ordinary household where Alphas and Betas lived together. After the Alpha, who surely considered this place his lair, and who surely had branded it, but not after the Alpha's rage or fear and suffering.
The door to Dean's right suddenly slammed shut.
He turned sharply toward it, grunted, and pierced the boy Sam's age with his gaze as he emerged from one of the doors and walked toward Dean, head down, eyes glued to his phone, oblivious to his surroundings. Dean knew damn well that he was in no danger from him, but he couldn't help but clench his hand into a fist and tense.
At that moment, the Alpha walked past him - causing Dean to take a step back - and placed a hand on the incoming Beta's shoulder.
With a yelp, the Beta jumped up and glared at the Alpha. Dean expected the Alpha to immediately send him to his seat with a growl, though probably not as violently as Evans had done, but instead the Alpha just pointed at his ears.
The boy looked guilty and pulled the headphones out of his ears. Immediately, loud rap music filled the room.
"What did we say about headphones, Bart?" Alpha asked sternly, but not unkindly.
"That I'm not allowed to wear them when I'm walking down the street or in class, and I'm only allowed to wear them at home when I'm in my room, because when I leave my room it means I want to spend time with others and it's rude for them to address me and for me not to hear them because of the music,"Beta Boy recited obediently, and while there was a certain guilt in it, there was also the annoyed undertone of a puppy being harassed by its parents with some kind of do's and don'ts. Or older brothers. He knew it from Sammy, and to see it after so long... it made him smile a little, amused, even though he didn't want to show anything but defiance.
"Very true. You broke the rules. You know what that means?"
Punishment, Dean's mind immediately flashed.
The Beta boy groaned in annoyance before pulling the other earpiece out of his ear and turning them both off before placing them in Alpha's palm. Alpha slipped them into his pocket and wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders as he turned to Dean.
"Now say hello to Dean here."
"Hi. I'm Bart, an unwilling participant in a project investigating the effects of lack of wifi on the modern teenage brain." He waved a skinny hand. He was all skinny and pulled up so he could almost look Dean in the eye. Like Sammy, but only this Beta had blond hair, pale skin, and pronounced red freckles. And big front teeth that he showed in an amused grin.
Dean inhaled carefully.
It was harder to read Betas because their scents were faint, but when a Beta was scared or, conversely, very happy, it was pretty easy to tell. He didn't smell anything like fear from this one, just a faint whiff of something sweet, like coolant in frost.
The Alpha grunted and moved his hand to the back of Beta's head, which he visibly squeezed a little. He was acting like an Alpha, but that didn't scare Beta. The boy just looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. The Alpha snorted, and with a friendly nudge and the words "Go to your computer hour," he sent Beta to the alcove where the laptop actually lay closed.
Dean watched with a frown as Beta sat down and opened the computer and... felt insecure. There were no alarms going off in his head right now. His Omega hadn't rebelled against the Alpha and his instincts hadn't warned him. This place and this Alpha, who obviously used blockers even when he was at home... none of it seemed dangerous. Thinking about it made his head hurt.
He hissed and pressed his fingers to his temple. The drugs were probably wearing off.
"So what, Omega? Are you going to try this place with Sonny?" Mosely addressed him pleasantly.
He glanced sharply at her, then at the Alpha, and finally quickly back to the two guys he'd be sharing this cave with.
"I guess I don't have a choice anyway," he finally replied.
The Mosely were pleased with his answer and didn't hesitate to show it, not only verbally, but also by giving him a nice pat on the cheek.
Then everything just sort of... blurred. He couldn't say he lost consciousness or wasn't aware of what was going on around him, but the sight of Beta and Alpha saying goodbye was like watching everything through a bottle neck. He wished he could sit down for a moment, but he didn't dare move and lose what little concentration and insight he had as he watched Alpha close the door behind Mosely. Get a grip, Winchester, and follow protocol, he mentally chided himself as he focused on the door. There was only one lock and a chain to go with it; Alpha hadn't used any of it. Instead of locking it, he plucked a marker from the handle and wrote "Clean Mat" in large, clear letters.
Then he turned to Dean.
"I think we should introduce ourselves properly," he intoned, and while keeping what could be called a safe distance, he extended his hand to Dean. "James Wollis, but everybody calls me Sonny."
He looked down at the outstretched hand. It wasn't that he'd never been offered a hand, but it wasn't often that he got one from an Alpha. Considering Dean's age and subgender, they just didn't feel the need to show him any special respect. It was strange, and he shouldn't have believed it, but the Alpha didn't smell as bad as Evans, so he accepted his hand and gave it a quick but firm squeeze. Just as their Alpha had taught him.
"Dean Winchester," he introduced himself curtly and let go of his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Dean." He gave the Alpha a nod of approval. "Before I show you to your room, let's talk about a few rules of this home... my lair," he emphasized, but not in an aggressive way to warn Dean, he said it more with pride and a satisfied purr in his chest. "We tell each other the truth here. If you have a problem, you come to me and we'll work it out together. Your room is yours alone. If you want to stay in it, you can, but if you leave it, you make it clear that you want to get to know the others, and that means putting down your phone and headphones," he continued, making Dean grin a little; as if he had a phone and headphones, or maybe he was going to get them from this Alpha. "And we always have dinner together," the Alpha finished with this last rule. "These are the most important rules. You'll learn the rest in time," he added before smiling slightly and nodding his head towards the hallway and the door. "Come on, let's see your room..." he invited, raising his arm as if to put it around Dean's shoulders.
Dean stiffened and bared his fangs slightly, causing Alpha to raise his outstretched hand palm first in reconciliation and take a step back, putting some distance between them. Dean was reassured by this and when Alpha started to walk towards the rooms, he followed.
There were only five doors. One had to be Alpha's bedroom and one had to be the bathroom, so there were only three rooms left for the station. He reached the second one immediately.
Alpha opened the door, stepped back and let Dean look inside.
The room wasn't much bigger than the one he'd shared with Angel before, but it was clear that it was all his. The basic furniture was a single bed pushed up against the wall, a closet for clothes, not large but big enough for the few pieces Dean had, and a desk and chair. It was all a bit austere, but not as unwelcoming as Sun Hill. There was a light carpet on the floor, an old poster from some veteran car show hanging in the closet for who knows why. And on the table was a notepad and a box that sold kits of basic crayons, pencils, and pens - did Alpha think he was retarded or something? - and on the bed, in addition to the brightly colored floral sheets, were five pillows with brightly colored covers, including one that was pink and furry. The sheets and pillows looked new, there was even a newness to the room, and then the sparse smell of the previous occupant suppressed by an entire bottle of anti-odor spray.
It looked like the Alpha had prepared for the Omega's arrival, including a good cleaning and buying things to nest in and create something creative, because that's what Omegas needed.
"I don't take Omegas into my home, so I don't have much experience with them, but I have tried to prepare the foundation for a good and comfortable nest."
It was on the tip of his tongue to remark that he wasn't doing stupid things like nesting, but instead he looked at the Alpha coldly.
"How about bringing me here, Alpha?" Of course, he added his secondary designation with an appropriately mocking tone. "Tired of taking care of puppies and want someone to warm your bed?"
Alpha's jaw tensed, and a hint of strong black tea seeped under the blockers. It was the first time he'd shown himself to be a Knot, and of course he'd done it right after the door had closed behind Beta from Social Services. Now all he had to do was grab Dean by the hair and stuff his head down the toilet or some other place.
"You just humiliated yourself with what you just said," he said instead of getting angry. "You presented yourself as someone who has no purpose in the world other than raising puppies and serving Alphas. If you want the respect of the environment... the respect of Alphas like me... you need to start respecting yourself first," the Alpha produced more supposedly enlightening bullshit; a head in the toilet would have been kinder to Dean: "I'll let you settle in. Dinner's at six... and this," he added, pulling a phone out of his pocket. A few years old Samsung, obviously used, but in good condition. And he offered it to Dean.
Dean looked at the phone suspiciously. What the hell did that mean? He offered him a phone, right? That couldn't be for free.
"What do you want for it?" he asked, and for once he swallowed a comment about what he imagined the Knot would want for the phone.
"To contact your brother."
It didn't sound very plausible that Alpha would care if he was in contact with Sam, but then again... the phone was there and he wanted to see and hear Sammy. His Omega lifted her head in interest for the first time in a long time and gave a little whimper, as if to say she missed her puppy. Maybe he would pay for the cell phone later, but for now, he'd find out that Sam was okay.
He took the phone, but didn't even look at it. He didn't want Knot to know he cared. Then he'd want to get paid even more.
Surprisingly, the Alpha grunted softly, a faint scent of hibiscus coming through the blockers.
"There's some clothes in your closet." He nodded to the closet, then closed the door behind him as he left.
Dean sat alone with the phone in his hand, listening to what was going on next door. It looked like the Alpha had gone and turned on the TV, then there was the sound of running water, creaking chairs, voices, laughter... Nothing to indicate that the Alpha was about to return or that anything... untoward was going on next door, so Dean relaxed a bit and took a quick look around the room. His eyes fell on the lock on the door. It was on the inside, he couldn't see one on the outside, so it wasn't there to keep him trapped in the room, but to keep him safe from outsiders.
He walked quickly to the door and closed it.
It was simple, metal, just bolted to the door and frame, and it definitely couldn't keep Alpha out if he wanted to get in, but it still gave him some sense of privacy and security. He quickly checked that the door was indeed locked and went to check the closet. There was a pile of clothes in there. A pair of jeans, a pair of light blue sweatpants, and a few t-shirts in stupidly bright colors - red, pink, two shades of blue, and dark purple. Luckily, they didn't have any childish prints on them. Couldn't say the same for the pajamas, which were a light pink with a print of stars. They looked like they were for puppies, only in men's size. One of those monstrosities made especially for Omega men. At least the pile of briefs was white.
He slammed the cupboard shut and fell onto the bed. And let out a long sigh.
Everything was starting to hurt now that the medicine had stopped working and he would have liked to lie down and sleep, but he had to try to contact Sam first. Hopefully the foster parents he was staying with hadn't forbidden him to have a phone or cut him off from social media.
The phone he'd been given was already turned on, fully charged, connected to wifi, and had several chat apps installed, including Snapchat. It took him a while and several tries to remember the password, but once he logged in, he was relieved to see that Sammy was online. He hesitated for a moment, but then decided he didn't care. He wanted to see his little brother finally, and even if he was in the middle of a class or a club or whatever, Dean didn't care to interrupt him this time.
The seconds until the call was connected were endless and his Omega, finally at least a little bit present again, rose from the corner of his mind and began to move nervously. Then Sammy's face finally appeared on the screen and he grunted in relief.
The little Alpha looked healthy and happy. His cheeks might have been pale and his hair hanging in his eyes, but that was how his little brother always looked. And there was a mixture of surprise and joy in his eyes.
"Dee!"
"Hi Sammy!" He forced himself to smile, even though it made his head hurt.
"Dean... Dean shit!" Came out of Sam intermittently, along with a growl, and he bared his teeth in annoyance rather than anger. "I tried to text you and call you and everything...like a hundred times!"
"Yeah, well... I didn't have my phone with me. It broke," he replied calmly, resigned, because he could see that Sam's Alpha was breaking the surface, and wherever his little brother was, it wouldn't be good for him to show fangs and red eyes. "But I've got phone now, and I'm fine, okay? You don't have to worry."
Sam's face darkened and this time he showed his teeth in a snarl.
"Why don't you tell me the truth?" He asked sharply; Dean just feigned confusion. "I know what happened. About SunHill, the Omega shelter, and the fire. I saw you on the video. You were even on the news."
"What?" This time he wasn't feigning confusion, he was confused. Sure, all those onlookers were probably filming and taking pictures, but that would be newsworthy.
"Wait, I'll send you the link."
Sam lowered his eyes as he searched for something on his screen, and moments later a message appeared in Dean's chat box with a link to a New York Post article. He quickly scanned it to see what stupid shit they were writing about SunHill. Something about how it was a great place for troubled Omegas, the success of Alpha Evans, the awards, and the irreplaceable loss to the local community. Apparently, people hadn't figured out that Evan was a fucking pedophile and a bully. Disgusted, he turned his attention away from these lies and turned on the attached video, which of course some bystander had recorded on his phone and helpfully sent to the New York Post. The video began somewhere around the time Dean handed the Knot to Jacob and continued as he sent Vadim to take the Omegas out. An explosion followed as flames blew out all the windows on the bottom floor and shot into the sky. At this point, the "cameraman" must have gotten scared, because shots of a passing clock followed. Somewhere in the middle, he changed his mind and picked up his phone to film the fire engulfing the second floor of the house, which began to close in again. Confused shots of butts, legs and elbows followed as the 'cameraman' pushed his way through the crowd, only to come forward and focus on Dean sitting on the ground.
Seeing himself was strange, especially as he looked confused and blurry-eyed. And the blood-stained sweatshirt made him look even more like someone who had just been through something terrible and yet it wasn't that terrible. He didn't even inhale the smoke.
The focus shifted from Dean to the small cluster of Omegas and the crowd of onlookers - most of them wearing jackets stretched over their pajamas or home clothes and, of course, holding phones - and to Vadim, who seemed to be checking on Evans, who had been dumped on the sidewalk. At this point, the video ended.
Dean remained staring at the black rectangle with the small windows offering more videos, and suddenly he wanted to laugh. He didn't even try to hold back his laughter.
"Dean...?" The little Alpha asked confusedly, looking down from the video chat thumbnail pinned to the top right corner of the screen.
"Did you recognize the two who are helping us?" He asked, not waiting for an answer. "That was Jacob and Vadim, Alpha's men. THEY were the ones who helped get the others out of the houses while all the good Americans," he pronounced it with disgust, "just stood around and taking fucking selfies. Now you tell me who's a good guy and who's a criminal."
Sammy just stared at him, and Dean wasn't surprised that he didn't answer. Yeah, Sam was a smart puppy, like really fucking smart, but he wasn't used to Dean talking like that because he didn't normally. Normally, he didn't even allow himself to think about such trivial bullshit, let alone say his thoughts out loud. After all, he wasn't the smart one in the pack and he didn't need to start playing one now.
"Dee, are you... are you okay?" Sammy asked in a voice that sounded like that of a frightened puppy to Dean's ears, and it made his Omega uneasy.
He forced another smile.
"Of course I am, bitch. Too tired to sleep for a week, but I'm fine," he assured him. Sam took a breath to say something, but Dean stopped him with a raised hand. "Let it go. And you better tell me how you're doing? Who did you end up with? Are they taking good care of you?"
Sam pursed his lips defiantly before answering in a ridiculously serious voice:
"I want to know how you're doing first."
"I'm with some guy now," he omitted that he was an Alpha, "and it's good. Check it out."
He switched to the other camera to show Sam his room. It was obvious that the little Alpha was checking out the room. He had that intrigued look on his face, like he was working on a science project, and when Dean showed him the room twice in quick succession, a look of approval and a little satisfaction appeared on his face.
"Now you..." he demanded.
Sam didn't even answer, just switched to his own camera and showed his own room. Unlike Dean's, his room had a window overlooking the street and nice curtains and dark blue drapes. There was a single bed with blue sheets, its head facing the wall, and above it was a 'gate' of shelves, empty ones where little Alpha would have liked to put books. Next to it, between the shelves and the corner, was a small television. A basketball hoop again hung on the door to the room. As Sam turned his phone further, a spacious closet came into view, opened wide - Sam must have fought his fear of closets with this - so he could see the contents clearly. There were a lot more clothes than Sammy had brought with him. In front of the closet was a sofa bag, crumpled up so he could sit on it and watch TV. And above the bag was a poster of Einstein with his tongue hanging out, which Sam always thought was stupid, but he wanted it anyway. Finally, the little Alpha flipped his phone up to the desk he was sitting at, showing the countertop and other shelves hanging on the wall. There was a tablet on the desk and a laptop open to some kind of report.
Dean's Omega grunted in agreement. Sammy's room looked really good, and that meant was well taken care of his pup.
"I'm with the Beta family," Sam began as he turned the camera back on himself. "He's a business lawyer and she's a dental hygienist. They have two daughters, one is only seven and the other is about your age. They go to private school, I go to public school, but that's okay. I didn't expect them to pay a huge tuition for me."
"And is the new school okay? Good teachers? How are your grades? How are your classmates?"
"You know." Sam shrugged. "I'm considered an exotic there, but the teachers are cool and don't have a problem with me. I behave myself and get good grades. How about you?"
"I haven't been anywhere for a few days and I don't know where I'm going. We'll see."
"So... you know who. Have you seen him?"
"Yesterday in the hospital. For a while. He said he'd get me out of here. There's some kind of law that allows him to take custody of me as an Omega. So hopefully I'll be out of here soon."
He hadn't expected Sam to be excited about the idea of being with Castiel, but he hadn't expected him to suddenly growl aggressively and clench his teeth.
"Son of a bitch!" The little Alpha barked through bared fangs.
"What's your problem now?" He retorted angrily, snarling back without hesitation.
"You have no idea what the law is, do you?" Sam hissed, taking several sharp breaths to calm himself. "In New York State it's called the Omega Distress Act, but other states have similar laws. Omega rights activists, including the American Omega Association, are fighting to get these laws repealed because they allow any Alpha to take custody of an Omega and all they have to do is claim that the Omega can't take care of himself. Maybe he or she doesn't have a good enough job, or lives in a small apartment, or just doesn't want an Alpha. And even though these laws aren't used much anymore, in most cases the courts will approve the guardianship and the Omega loses all rights. If he becomes your guardian, you lose all your rights, Dean. You won't be allowed to own property, drive a car, even buy your own groceries. He will have complete control over you! You can't let that happen! You have to run!"
On the one hand, he didn't like what Sam was saying. The shit that claimed Omegas couldn't take care of themselves and needed the care of an Alpha or at least a Beta always annoyed him, and the Internet was full of it. There were still a lot of knots out there, and not just the ones who were probably just afraid that Omegas might have an opinion about something and maybe even enforce it. Not that he cared much about Omega rights per se, but he was always very protective of his own.
But on the other hand... the idea of his Alpha deciding everything didn't seem so terrible to him right now. Just curl up in their shared nest and let Case take care of everything. Sure, not forever, just for a day or two until the hellish headache subsided. And he wasn't really worried about Castiel taking custody of him altogether, because contrary to what Sam thought, Dean knew that his Alpha would not take away his freedom and rights. His Alpha made that clear many times, even saying he didn't want an obedient Omega. He wanted... what did he say? An equal partner for life, or something ridiculous like that.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"But Dean...!"
"No, no buts," he interrupted firmly. "It's the only way I can get out of the system. I can live with Case and not have to worry about where I'll be sent in a day or two. I'd rather be with him than anywhere else," he concluded, and seeing that Sam was about to argue, he decided to change the subject. "Let's not talk about that anymore, tell me more about the people you live with or maybe what school project you're working on now?"
It was obvious that the little Alpha would have preferred to continue convincing him to run away, but after a long, defiant look, he did as Dean instructed and began to tell him more about his new, temporary home.
Dean shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the beautifully cold wall that was a balm to his aching body, and listened to his brother's story, glad to hear his voice again after such a long time.
Chapter Text
After talking to Sam, he must have fallen asleep, because he was awakened by a knock at the door. It was the Alpha telling Dean that he hadn't come for dinner - unconsciously he rattled inside, curled his fingers into the sheets and carefully hypnotized the door, ready for the Alpha to burst in and punish him for such 'disrespect' and rule-breaking - and brought him food and left it outside the door.
Dean was surprised by the Alpha's behavior and simply thanked him. He listened for a long time until he was sure that the Alpha was gone before he got out of bed and unlocked the door behind which he found the tray of food. He took it inside and, after a brief inspection and hesitation, began to eat what the Alpha had brought him. It was canned tomato soup, roasted chicken and potatoes. Nothing fancy, but it was warm, there was plenty of it, and he didn't even have to cook it, and that counted for something.
When he was done, he hesitated a bit about what to do, but finally decided to take the tray and carry it to the kitchen. Not that he trusted Alpha in any way, but cleaning up after his dirty dishes was normal. And so, tray in hand, he stepped out from behind the wall and paused at the sight of the surprisingly normal, domestic scene unfolding before his eyes.
Timmy was sitting in front of a TV playing some action cartoon, probably Japanese, Dean didn't know. The little Beta was completely engrossed in it, and it was clear that he was completely unaware of what was going on around him. He hadn't noticed Dean and didn't even pay attention to Alpha, who was sitting in the kitchen playing cards with the other Beta, much to Dean's surprise.
Alpha and the other Beta boy, Bart, lifted their heads from the game and watched him as he slowly walked into the kitchen with a tray and put the dishes in the full sink. He felt two stares in his back that made him nervous as he hypnotized the dirty dishes. There were none except his own soup bowl. Why had he been given an extra bowl? Was he expected to do the dishes? Should he have offered? What about the tray?
"Where shall I put the tray?" He asked without turning around.
"Put it in the basket next to the counter," the Alpha replied calmly.
Dean gave him a quick glance before looking at the soft basket, or rather a kind of bag without ears, woven from wicker. Yeah, okay, that would do, and it didn't seem to be a test of his dexterity and ability and willingness to follow even stupid orders. So he shoved the tray into the basket and turned to face Alpha.
Alpha watched him with a calm gaze, while Bart had stopped paying attention and was squinting at his cards.
"You want me to do the dishes?" He asked.
"Timmy's on duty today. He'll do the dishes when his show is over," Alpha informed him; did that mean Dean wasn't expected to clean and cook? "If you want, sit down and play with us."
He honestly wasn't sure if it was just a suggestion or some kind of order, but after a short hesitation he decided to take it more as an order and since the Alpha didn't want him to do anything weird or dangerous or suck cock, he sat down at the table. Slowly and carefully, because the bruises hurt and his head wasn't in the best shape either. And he looked at the few cards that were laid out.
"So... what's this?" he asked, of course wondering what game they were playing.
"Sonny's way of torturing us," Bart answered instead. "Since you have Dean here, can't I go back to my place and talk to Abe?"
"No," Alpha replied simply. "Now is the hour we spend together. You can handle one a day, pup. And start dealing," he added, laying his cards on the table.
Bart snorted and raked Alpha's cards before turning to Dean, and as he shuffled the cards, he said:
"We're playing Crazy Eights. You know it?"
"Yeah, sure..."
"Good. Here we go..." Beta said as he started to deal.
°°0°°
"...and I don't know how long it'll take us," Bart said, putting the bowl of cereal he'd just washed in the drainer. "His mom will want me to stay for dinner. I'll write when I leave."
"Remind her that I want you home by ten and that I want her to bring you over and..."
"...and that you'll repay her by taking Abe camping," Bat finished for Alpha. "Abe will be thrilled. He loves camping," he said ironically.
"Last time he had diarrhea from marshmallows," Timmy chuckled as he washed his bowl.
"You know you're not supposed to make fun of people. Abe just needs to get some experience," Alpha admonished, taking off his glasses, which he probably only needed to read, because he put them on when he finished his bowl of cereal and bran flakes and picked up his phone. "But... I have to admit, it was kind of funny how he ran off with his pants around his knees, screaming that he was being chased by a bear, only to have it turn out to be a raccoon."
Dean's corners twitched a little with amusement. He didn't know Abe, didn't know what he was talking about, but he could get an idea. When he realized that he was smiling, he clenched his jaw instead and lowered his eyes to his bowl of chocolate chips.
Actually, they weren't even chips anymore, but chocolate morsels with a handful of tangerine segments, which the Alpha dropped into his bowl without a word, just the silent expectation that Dean would eat them. It was an odd combination, and besides, Dean wasn't hungry, which he realized was odd. He couldn't remember the last time he could sit down to a meal and not eat, but somehow last night's dinner had been enough. Speaking of last night... The whole evening had been so strangely normal. They played cards for a while, then Timmy finished the show and went to do the dishes without saying a word, and finally Alpha let them do whatever they wanted and went to his room to do some 'paperwork' himself. Since Bart had run straight to his room, pulling out his phone on the way, and Timmy had gone to watch another show, Dean took the opportunity to steal a knife from the kitchen. Sure, he knew the other boys might notice and tell Alpha, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of not being armed again. He went back to his bedroom, locked the door behind him, and put the knife under his pillow, where it stayed, unused, until this morning, when Alpha knocked on his room and yelled through the door for him to get up, wash and brush his teeth, and then come in for breakfast.
"I'd like to see a real bear," Timmy said, wiping his wet hands on his pants.
"Bears usually stay away because they know people have guns. If they do get close, it's at night when the camp is asleep, and in the morning all you find are scattered things, eaten food, and paw prints in the mud. Sam and I experienced this once when we were camping with our Alpha," Dean said, who knew why, it just seemed to come out of him and of course it brought unwanted attention to him. Three pairs of eyes were fixed directly on him, as if waiting for him to say something else or be some damn attraction.
"Did you and your Alpha father go camping a lot?" Alpha asked.
Dean frowned at him, then shrugged.
"Sometimes," he said, putting his spoon into his unfinished meal and pushing the bowl aside. He certainly wasn't going to tell him that they went often and that their father had regularly left them alone for the past three years. He'd just led them out into the wilderness and left, saying they'd be back in two or three days to fend for themselves. It could be pretty shitty if it was raining or cold all the time, but it was also fun.
"I hope we can go again this year, but we'll see how the weather turns out," Alpha replied icily, then turned to Beta. "Go get ready for school. I want to have a few words with Dean here."
The two Beta boys went to their rooms without protest, leaving Alpha alone with him. His eyes immediately wandered to the drawer that held the knives, the cupboard that held the pans, and the coffeepot that held a pot of fresh and, more importantly, hot coffee. It was all perfect for use as a weapon, but only if he could get to it in time. He wondered if he even had a chance. The Alpha sat with his back to the kitchen counter, so he had a clear view of the entire room, and Dean chose a spot as far away from him as possible, but also so that he had the counter on his right and the rest of the apartment on his left. The Alpha had partially blocked his path to the weapons, but after what he'd been through the last few days... hell, yeah, he'd fight his way through it. He was almost sure he could make it.
"I'll take care of your admission to the local school after work today," Alpha began in a completely relaxed tone, fiddling with his glasses. "Then I have some other errands to run, so I won't be home until after six. Do you think you could keep an eye on dinner and Timmy? I drive him to school, but he comes back on his own. He should be back around two."
Dean frowned and sucked in air. The Alpha must have been wearing a weaker version of the blocker again, allowing his scent to penetrate, so he could pick up the hibiscus and the Alpha's soothing scent. This made it look like the Alpha had no ulterior motives, except that Alphas always had ulterior motives, with a few exceptions, their Alpha starting, Bobby continuing, and Castiel finishing.
"You want me to take care of the puppy? Is it because I'm an Omega?"
"Yes, but not because you're an Omega. It's because you're the eldest and I know you've been responsible in taking care of your younger brother."
"You can't know if I took care of him responsibly," he argued confrontationally. "Just because I am an Omega does not make me a good caretaker of puppies. What if I let him wander, or what if I run away? You don't know me at all. I can do anything."
"Trust, Dean, is always reciprocal, and one must always begin by trusting in order to earn the trust of the other," the Alpha replied patiently. "I'm showing you trust, and I'm hoping that you'll start trusting me in return. As for your running away... If you really wanted to run away, you could have done so tonight. You stayed. You know you're better off here than on the streets."
He wasn't interested in discussing the issue of trust, which he certainly didn't have towards him, so he just shrugged.
"Fine. I'll keep an eye on him."
"Thanks, Dean," the Alpha thanked him, his scent sweetening with satisfaction for a moment before he put on his glasses and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. "I'm going shopping, too. Shall I buy something for you?" He asked, looking up from the paper on the table, the pen ready to write the next item on the list.
The idea of asking for some normal pajamas only briefly crossed his mind. He wasn't planning on staying here forever anyway. Castiel would surely come for him soon, and he could get through those few days in a star-studded monstrosity. After all, it was just clothes, as long as he had some and wasn't cold in them. But there was one small thing he'd need, and just the thought of it made him raise his hand to his face and run it over the sparse, light beard that covered part of his chin, jaw, and upper lip. It had been at least three weeks since he'd shaved, and despite everything he'd been through in the past few days, the beard continued to grow stubbornly. Granted, it was an Omega beard, almost as fine as the hair on his arms, but it was now long enough to scratch his neck and chest when he put his chin down.
"I need a shave," he admitted.
"I have razors. I'll get you some shaving cream for the Omegas," Alpha replied, immediately adding it to his shopping list. "And you don't need anything else?" he asked, in that strangely emphatic way that made it sound like he thought Dean needed something but didn't know what himself. But Dean didn't know of anything he might need or want that he could ask for and honestly didn't want to think about it. He would like to go back to bed.
"Nothing," he shrugged.
Alpha's scent had changed a bit. The tea became stronger, but it couldn't be called outright anger, more like disappointment and mild displeasure. The problem was that he couldn't read as well with the blockers as he could without them, and in fact, if Dean had been sitting a little further away, he might have been able to tell it was Alpha by smell alone.
"Okay," he agreed, putting the pen and paper back in his pocket, only to pull out his wallet and place ten dollars on the table. "Here..." he pushed a few bills in Dean's direction. "In case you want to go to the store yourself to get some change. The keys are on the rack across from the door." He left the bills there, making no comment about Dean not taking them, and stood up. "Or you can always text me. My number's in your phone," he added with a faint smile that was barely visible under his mustache, and walked to his room. He deliberately walked around the desk so he wouldn't have to go behind Dean's back.
Dean gave Alpha a parting glance, then glanced at the bills before finally gathering them up and shoving them into his pocket. No matter the circumstances or the amount; only a fool would leave money on the table.
°°0°°
He waited an hour, making sure that everyone had left and that no one, especially Alpha, would return, and then swallowed one of the painkillers they'd given him at the hospital. Well, they'd given it to Beta from Childcare, as if he was incapacitated and couldn't take his own pills at sixteen damn years old. And she gave them to Sonny, who just left them in a paper bag by the TV. I guess he didn't think Timmy was young and stupid enough to try to eat them, which he wasn't supposed to do at eight years old.
It was some strong medicine whose name he didn't know, and it worked maybe ten or fifteen minutes after he swallowed it. It was such a damn big relief that he fell asleep on the sofa with the TV on. But he woke up two hours later, violently, with his heart pounding in his chest and a growl on his lips. His Omega was running in circles, whining that everything was wrong. She wanted her puppy, she wanted her Alpha, she wanted out of the strange Alpha's lair that smelled of hibiscus and tea. A foul smell that filled Dean's nostrils and found its way to his tongue, which seemed to be covered in an unwashed coating. He staggered into the bathroom, shut the door behind him and brushed his teeth thoroughly, rinsing his mouth with the minty mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting aftertaste.
The problem was that it didn't help with the panic that was building inside of him that he didn't understand. Everything was fine. Sure, his whole body hurt and he was far away from his little brother and Case, but it wasn't like Sun Hill. His nerves were still on edge in that hellhole, and hell yes, panicking was normal. But not here. In Sonny's hideout he wasn't in any danger yet.
He paced nervously in the small bathroom, ran a hand through his hair and tried to calm his ragged breathing. He knew he was hyperventilating, and he also knew that if he didn't do something about it, he might end up hitting the tiles here. Hitting himself in the head again wouldn't help his concussion heal.
He leaned back against the sink and looked into the mirror. And he had to grin a little. As well as he'd healed during his weeks in Cas's care, his cheeks rounded and tiny freckles popping out, a few days in this hellhole had been enough to make his face pale and his cheeks sunken. No wonder Alpha had tried to give him extra soup yesterday. After all, real Omegas were supposed to be either petite or a little chubby, with wide hips and big butts. That's how Omega men were.
He turned on the faucet, scooped water into his hands and splashed it on his face. Then he looked at himself again.
"All right, man. Calm down," he said to his reflection. "You are Dean Winchester of the proud Winchester family. You're a soldier, strong and fearless. You've survived a lot of shit, and you'll survive a lot more, because no one can beat you. Say it again! What are you? A soldier! What are you?! Strong and fearless! Repeat it! A soldier! Strong and fearless, sir!"
He exhaled sharply. That was it. It was instantly better when he was reminded of his father and the security that obeying his orders gave him. To follow him. A security he didn't have at all right now, and the realization brought another rush of fear. He couldn't contact his Alpha father, but he had a cell phone and could call his Alpha. Only that would be unwise. He remembered his number, it was important, so he stored it in his head, just like Sam's and just like his father's secure phone number, but he couldn't use a cell phone that wasn't his to call. It was Castiel's private number, one that he couldn't have, and just about no one could have. Even if he just dialed it and then immediately deleted it, it would still remain in the phone's memory where the cops or the FBI could dig it up. He couldn't have compromised Case like that.
He had to pull himself together and stop freaking out.
He used his sleeve to wipe his face, shoved the remnants of panic into the corner of his mind where he was determined to bury them forever, and went back to the couch in front of the TV.
°°0°°
When he woke up a second time, it was because he heard some strange noises coming from the front door. Without thinking, the protocol jumped in first. He took the knife he had brought from his bedroom from under his pillow and crept quietly to the door. Someone was picking the lock, there was no doubt about it.
He passed the knife from one hand to the other and, after briefly weighing his options, decided not to stab the person directly in the stomach, but rather to look through the peephole to see who it was first. He leaned against the door and peered out. He didn't see anyone, certainly not an adult, but somewhere near the bottom of what he could see through the peephole, a brown man's hair was sticking out.
Dean rolled his eyes in resignation, and while he tucked the knife into the back of his pants, his other hand opened the door right in front of Timmy. The Beta puppy blinked at him with surprised eyes, widened by his large glasses.
"What are you doing, pup? Can't you open the door?" He asked annoyed, but stepped aside to let Beta in. But he remained standing on the mat, suddenly looking very embarrassed and unhappy for no good reason.
"I could have hit it," he finally muttered, and slowly walked in, his head hanging.
Dean stepped back a little, leaned against the corner of the wall and watched Beta Boy take off his shoes. He wasn't doing it just because the Alpha had put him in charge. That meant nothing to him. Under different circumstances, if he didn't have to stay here and wait for his Alpha to take him in, he would just ignore Sonny's request and not care that this strange Alpha was disappointed in him.
He'd kept an eye on Timmy because one of those stupid Omega urges had come up in him, and since it was the first time in a long time that he felt anything other than anger, fear and anxiety, he decided to focus on it. To indulge his grumbling Omega and his instincts and take care of the puppy. After all, what else was he supposed to do here?
Timmy put his boots - he had them velcroed - against the wall, then hung his keys on one of the lower hangers, probably meant for smaller children. He had them on a lanyard with some writing that Dean guessed was the logo for the anime series, and he had plastic dog heads on each individual key. Together it looked ridiculous, and the keys must have been unnecessarily heavy, which made Dean wonder.
Once the keys were in place, Timmy started to take off his jacket. It too had velcro closures and straps, also with velcro, that wrapped around his unusually wide sleeves. The velcro squeaked and the jacket rustled and Timmy still couldn't get it off.
Dean frowned. He was pretty clumsy for an eight-year-old puppy. At his age, Sammy could not only get dressed and undressed without any problems, he could even load a gun.
"You want some help, buddy?" he asked, reaching out to help Beta.
But he stepped in front of him and shook his head violently.
"No, I can do it! I've got to handle this!" He refused resolutely and started another concentrated fight.
Dean just threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat and continued to watch as the puppy struggled to get out of his sleeves and hang his jacket on the rack. When he had done it, he seemed satisfied.
"Sorry," Beta turned to him and adjusted his glasses. "I didn't mean to get mad at you, but Sonny says I have to try. And then... if I can't, it's okay to ask for help. But I knew it would work!" Timmy smiled and raised his small hands toward Dean. "I don't have good hands, you know? My fingers wiggle and do weird things."
Dean frowned a little, his eyes slipping to the backpack Beta had thrown by the door. Surprisingly, it too was mostly velcroed, only the main section was a normal zippered pocket with a miniature tennis ball hanging from the slider. It could have been a decoration, but it could also have been used to prevent Timmy from picking up the tiny zipper slider. The velcro jacket and boots, the spoon with the big, colorful plastic handle, and how carefully and meticulously he'd washed every spoon and plate yesterday... It hadn't mattered much to him at the time, but maybe Timmy hadn't washed the dishes so carefully because Alpha had asked him to.
"Let me see..." he said, taking Beto's hands and turning them several times to examine them from all sides. "They look fine to me. I'm sure you can do anything you want," he said encouragingly, ruffling the pup's hair. "Maybe help me make lunch. I haven't eaten yet. What do you say?"
"Sure!" Timmy declared enthusiastically.
"Great! Then go wash your hands and then come to the kitchen," sending the puppy to the bathroom.
Timmy scampered off and Dean, while Little Beta washed his hands, shuffled into the kitchen to see what he could make for lunch.
°°0°°
He figured he should see if Timmy had any homework or needed anything for school tomorrow, but he felt too tired and groggy to care. All he could manage was to make a couple of sandwiches, which they took together to the TV and turned on the cartoon channel. Timmy was a talkative boy. He babbled the whole time, slowly moving across the couch to Dean until he rested his head on his shoulder.
Dean tilted his head to him and sniffed his hair. It smelled like baby shampoo, the kind for Betas that had a lot of chemical scents in it, but it also smelled vaguely like pineapple and nettle. And like a puppy. It was different from Sammy's familiar and intense scent, but it still calmed both him and his Omega.
They stayed like that until about five, when he remembered that he should probably make something to eat for six.
A quick inspection of the kitchen revealed that there was some minced meat in the freezer, onions in the fridge, another can of canned tomatoes in the cupboard, and they actually had some real spices. Enough ingredients for a quick spaghetti sauce.
He wouldn't let Timmy near the knife, even though little Beta assured him he could handle it. He wasn't Sam, and Dean didn't want to make a second trip to the hospital in a week to get Timmy's finger stitched. He did, however, allow him to pull the stool he'd been standing on over to the stove while he washed the dishes and put the ingredients in the pot. And when the sauce was boiling, he'd pour water into the pot and measure out the spaghetti.
They managed to have dinner served just before six, and surprisingly, it was pretty good. Having enough of all the ingredients made cooking a lot easier.
Timmy was just chewing a big bite and a piece of spaghetti came out of his mouth when Dean's phone rang in his pocket. He got so scared that he dropped his fork. Come on, Winchester, calm down. It's just a phone, he mentally reminded himself and reached into his pocket. The screen read 'Sonny'. He looked at the word uncertainly, not really wanting to talk to Alpha, but he was pretty sure he couldn't answer it. So far Alpha had been on his best behavior, not getting angry or swearing, but a yelled call would certainly set him off. And he'd had more than his fair share of angry Alphas in the last few days.
"Yeah?" he boomed into the phone, then paused; he probably should have been a little more polite. "I mean... Hi, Alpha."
"Hey, Dean. I'm on my way to the store. Did you make it to dinner?"
"Yeah, all good. We're eating," he replied, deliberately not mentioning that Bart wasn't here yet. After all, Alpha hadn't asked for him.
"Bart called to tell me that he stayed at Abe's for dinner, and Abe's mom is bringing him home at eight. I should be home by then, if not, make sure Timmy goes to bed at eight. He has a school trip tomorrow and will be on his feet all day. He needs his sleep.
Hearing Alpha talk about school trips and putting puppies to bed was so strange. That kind of care was definitely not appropriate for Knots, so maybe this Alpha wasn't much of a Knothead. The problem was, it didn't fit any of the alphas he knew and respected. None of his Alphas. Dad never cared much for that sort of thing. As far as Dean's memory went, it was mostly his responsibility, and the exceptions, when Dad thought of a school dance or some kind of dance and made him go so he could enjoy a normal life, tended to prove the rule. Bobby... Uncle Bobby was a bit better. At least he checked in regularly to make sure Sammy was fed and arranged a few outings for them, like mini-golf. Castiel... well, Case somehow couldn't imagine taking care of a puppy. Hell, he couldn't even imagine talking to a puppy. Castiel was a great, strong Alpha that his Omega wanted to do a whole litter of puppies with, but he wasn't the fatherly type... despite his nickname.
This Alpha... Sonny, he was strangely different.
"Sure, I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, Dean," he thanked sincerely, then paused briefly. "Before I put this down... do you really need to buy anything?"
Why was he so obsessed with shopping? Maybe asking for something would make him happy and stop asking.
"Okay... can I get some caramel popcorn?"
There was a short silence on the other side.
"Sure. Caramel popcorn is no problem. Anything else?"
"No, nothing."
"Okay. Say hi to Timmy."
"Timmy says hi to you, too," he replied automatically.
The Alpha on the other end of the line grunted in agreement, said goodbye, and hung up. Dean glanced at the screen to make sure the call was really over, then slipped the phone into his pocket.
"Done?" He asked Beta, who had just put his cutlery down on his plate and pushed the plate aside to reach for his cup. Earlier, while setting the table, Timmy had noticed that he'd taken out a dark blue plastic cup with an ear for a glass. He grabbed it with both hands and lifted it off the table.
"Yes, it was good. You cook better than Bart. He's always overcooking the pasta and wants to put chili in everything," he complained, finally taking a sip, just like the puppies did; with his nose all the way in the cup and down to the bottom. When he put the cup back on the table a moment later, he sighed contentedly and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Can I watch while I do the dishes? My favorite show is on, and I get to do the dishes afterwards."
"Sure, go ahead and don't worry about the dishes today. I'll rinse them."
That was enough for Timmy to get up and run to the couch without answering, but he changed his mind halfway and ran back.
"Do you want to watch a movie with us tonight? We could make caramel corn..."
"Probably not tonight. Alpha said you have a trip tomorrow and have to go to bed early."
"Uh... but I don't want to. I won't be able to sleep anyway."
"You have to at least try," he rejected his attempt at bargaining, not even letting Timmy's pouty expression soften him. "That doesn't apply to me, buddy. I raised my brother from a very young pup, and he's an Alpha. I'm not going to be softened up by a pouty face," he said, smiling. "But how about I promise you that we'll watch the movie the day after tomorrow. That would work, wouldn't it?"
"Okay. That would work," Beta agreed with a grin.
"Fine. Then go see the show."
Beta boy ran off again, but this time he actually made it to the TV and settled down on the couch to watch his favorite show. Dean ate the last two bites and added a little more after a short moment of thought. His appetite had returned since the morning, but he had to save some for Alpha. A fed Alpha is a satisfied Alpha. A hungry Alpha is a growling Alpha. It was as simple as that.
Then, as he was doing the dishes, he noticed that the running water was sticking in the sink instead of draining smoothly. He tried the shredder. It was making strange noises. He knew immediately what was wrong. Either someone had thrown something down the drain that didn't belong there - raw meat, especially rawhide, could make quite a mess in the shredder, not to mention a piece of dish soap - or it was clogged with lime. The easiest way was to look inside.
He wiped the dishes and put them away, then went to ask Timmy if they had any tools. Little Beta looked at him uncomprehendingly and shrugged, saying he didn't know. There were no tools in the kitchen, so he tried the second most likely place: the bathroom. In the cabinet under the sink, he found a box with the usual tools that should be enough to dismantle a garbage disposal.
He returned to the kitchen and sat under the sink with a sigh. His aching body was a bitch, and the medication he'd taken that morning was long gone. Work had kept him busy, though. It took his mind off not only the pain, but where he was and what had happened to him in the last few days. He always had. When he started working with his hands, he relaxed and calmed down. And taking out the garbage and rinsing some parts was just the simple and stereotypical activity he needed.
He was just putting the waste back together, in fact he was almost done when there was a rattle in the lock and the door opened. Dean was back on his feet before he realized he was standing up and immediately focused on Alpha, who was closing the door behind him. He watched him warily as he kicked off his shoes.
Timmy had noticed Alpha's arrival too, of course, but unlike Dean, he was thrilled that Alpha was back. He jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to wrap his arms around his waist as he had done with Mosley the day before.
"Sonny! You're finally home!"
"Hello, son," Alpha greeted him, lightly squeezing his neck and pulling him closer.
"You smell good," Beta complimented.
Dean sniffed in response. The scent of fresh hibiscus and tea was strong and actually quite fresh. Like freshly sipped hibiscus tea with a hint of sweetness, like a spoonful of sugar mixed in. But at the same time, it was a strong, intense, and undoubtedly Alpha scent that nonchalantly coaxed Dean Omega into submission. It wasn't a strong, impossible-to-resist sensation, and it wasn't downright unpleasant either, which was why he didn't resist.
"I forgot about the blockers," the Alpha replied, ruffling the boy's hair. "How was your day?"
"Fine," Timmy replied, finally letting go of Alpha. "I caught six out of ten balls, and my writing is supposed to be going very well. And Omega made us spaghetti. It's really good, the best I've ever had. You've got to try some!" He declared enthusiastically, grabbing his hand to pull him into the kitchen.
"I'll have some later," Alpha promised, but he didn't let Beta pull him away. "It's already half past seven, you have to be in bed by eight. Get changed and brush your teeth. Then I'll come tuck you in."
Of course Timmy didn't argue with Alpha and went to his room without further ado. Alpha made his way to the kitchen, turning off the TV, which was still on. He placed the plastic bag he'd brought with him on the table and looked at the open cabinet under the sink, the little bit of dirty water on the floor that Dean hadn't had time to wipe up yet, and the open toolbox from which things had been pulled. Dean immediately grabbed the wrench he'd used to tighten the seal and carefully tasted the air.
Alpha's scent was intense, of course, as the blockers wore off, so clearly audible and oddly not filled with anger. The tea had gotten a bit stronger, though.
"Did you get around to cleaning up the waste?" He asked in a rather calm voice.
"Yeah. Somehow it wasn't emptying and the shredder was making strange noises."
The Alpha stepped towards Dean and Dean immediately jumped, raising the wrench in front of him and baring his teeth in a warning growl. His stance was impossible to miss, but the Alpha pretended not to see him and simply walked around the table in a wide arc, approaching the sink so that he was always facing Dean. He didn't react in any way to the threat or the wrench, just leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter and looked down under the sink as if nothing interesting was happening.
"That looks good. Can I try it?" He asked as he stood up.
Dean dropped the wrench and nodded slightly.
The Alpha turned on the water and hit the shredder switch. Dean couldn't see how well the water drained, but the shredder sounded normal now, and not only was there a noticeable smile on Sonny's face, but the scent had gotten stronger and the hibiscus had asserted itself.
"Good job, Dean," he complimented him and turned off the water. "But you'd better ask next time you want to do some home repairs."
He frowned.
"I don't need supervision," he argued. "We may be Omega, but I can clean a waste, replace a gasket, hammer in a few nails, mow the grass, build a shelf... in fact, I could carve a shelf. And I like to work on cars and motorcycles."
"I'm not saying you couldn't do it, Dean, but it's not your job or your responsibility. It's mine."
"Sure," he grinned and put the wrench back on the line. "You're an Alpha," he didn't forgive the mockery.
"Not because I'm an Alpha, but because I'm an adult and you're sixteen. You're no longer a child, but you're not old enough to be responsible for a household. No one your age should have that responsibility, no matter if they're a Beta, an Omega or even an Alpha. But," he nodded towards the sink, "I thank you for the waste. I've been preparing for this for two weeks, and you saved me the trouble."
He didn't really know what to say, so he gave in to his urge and lowered his eyes for a moment. To cover it, he half turned and nervously put his hand on the lid of the pot the sauce was in.
"Would you like me to heat up your food, Alpha?"
"Yes, thank you. I'll unload the groceries for now, and help you clean up after I eat."
He loaded a proper portion, enough for an Alpha of Sonny's size, and while the plate spun in the microwave, he watched Sonny take out the groceries. Milk, juice, new boxes of chocolate cereal... nothing out of the ordinary except for a smaller bag that he set down in front of where Dean had eaten breakfast that morning.
He placed the warmed spaghetti in front of Alpha's seat and went to sit alone, leaving the bag behind. He guessed it contained shaving cream, although it was a little bigger than he'd expected.
"Good," Sonny complimented after the first few bites. "Did you cook for your little brother and dad?"
"Yeah, mostly."
"I hear you traveled a lot."
"Yeah, we traveled most of the states."
The Alpha shook his head and took a few more bites in silence before speaking again:
"Did you call your brother?"
"Yesterday..."
"Is he okay?" He continued to ask stubbornly, no matter how short the answers Dean gave him.
"He is. He's staying with a Beta family."
"Did you call anyone else?"
He suppressed a grin. That was the way the wind was blowing from here. All those useless questions were going to get him asking about Castiel. Maybe the police had even put him up to it.
"Rule one is don't lie. Shouldn't you also speak plainly?" He replied defensively, and when the Alpha looked up at him questioningly, he continued, "You obviously know a lot about me. I bet they have a whole file on my at Child Protective Services and they had you read it. I know what, or rather who, you want to ask, so ask them directly. Let's talk man to man...unless your talk and attitude is some kind of farce."
Hell yeah, he knew he was assuming a lot and if the Alpha got pissed and at least showed his teeth, he wouldn't be surprised. Aside from a guttural growl to show some displeasure, the Alpha's reaction was minimal.
"You're right. We should talk straight," he agreed, putting down his fork and reaching for the napkins laid out in the middle of the table. "Missouri... Miss Mosley tells me you're dating an Alpha who's older than you..."
"...and you're going to tell me how bad it is for me and that he's just using me," he interrupted, finishing exactly what he knew Sonny was going to say. "You're wrong. You're all wrong. He's my True Mate and I'm in no danger from him. Certainly nothing like..." his voice trailed off. He didn't want to talk about that hellish place or even remember it. It was gone. Destroyed. Burned to the ground and, he hoped, leveled.
"Like Sun Hill?" Alpha finished for him with a little question at the end; Dean just pursed his lips and refused to answer. Sonny watched him for a moment longer, which Dean bravely resisted, and then, surprisingly, it was him who lowered his eyes back to his food and put down his napkin before continuing. "The truth is, I don't know this Alpha at all, and since I don't know him, I'm trying not to form an opinion. Judging people before we know them only leads to prejudice. Maybe," he picked up the fork with a mouthful of spaghetti, "you could tell me about him," he suggested, popping the spaghetti into his mouth.
Dean pursed his lips. It was a trick. He was trying to get him to change his statement and admit that he and Cas were more than friends, or worse, that he wanted to know about Alpha's work. And of course he didn't mean his job as owner of the Alpha Club and the stipty club.
"I know what you're trying to do. I'm not going to tell you anything bad about my Alpha... or my dad. We can save this conversation."
"I'm not trying to do anything," the Alpha replied, a hint of tea wafting through his scent. "I just don't think you two have much in common. How old is he? Thirty or more? That's a big generation gap."
"We have a lot in common," he argued immediately, only to pause at the realization that he couldn't really remember what he and Cas had in common. His first thought was "We listen to the same music. I mean... I like classic and nineties rock and he likes Russian punk and ballad rock, but we agree on the classics. And TV shows!" That was the next thing he thought of. "Like Game of Thrones... we both watch that."
"That's not much," Alpha didn't like his answer and put down his fork and empty plate. "Men his age already have different priorities than young men like you. They want to get married, mate, have puppies... Believe me, Dean, I'm that man, so I know what I'm talking about. I would love nothing more than to have a family, but..." For the first time in two days, Sonny's shoulders slumped and his scent, along with the sour breath, was filled with regret and sadness. "My wild youth," he pulled up the long sleeve of his shirt to reveal a tattoo that Dean had no doubt belonged to a gang, "robbed me of that opportunity. And I would never take the responsibility of chaining Omega or Beta or Alpha to me and not giving them a family. All that was left was this place... "He moved his hand slightly. "My boys. A home for puppies no one wants. Unless your Alpha is in the same situation as me, and I doubt it, he'll soon be asking you for things you may not want or be ready for."
He gritted his teeth, the retort that it was none of Sonny's business on the tip of his tongue, but at the same time, he knew he was right. Castiel had never made a secret of his plans for the future, and though he always spoke of a distant future, it was a kind of certainty that awaited him. He tried to downplay it, pushing it to the back of his mind or mocking it when it was his random inner Omega that urged him how great it would be to have a puppy with such a strong Alpha. But the truth was, it scared him. The idea of being bitten and tethered to someone, even if he loved that person, terrified him. The loss of freedom and the ability to disappear the moment he screwed up. And the puppy? That was probably the most scariest part. A tiny human being, completely defenseless, who would be completely dependent on him for years...? Yeah, it worked out well for him with Sam. He'd done everything he could, which was why he knew how damn hard it was and wasn't sure if he could do it again with such a good result. He didn't want to fuck up with his own kid.
"Maybe I want a family... someday. I'm an Omega after all, it's in my genes," he replied with a lie that he uttered with complete ease, and the Alpha seemed to believe him as well.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you really want a family one day. You obviously have strong Omega instincts buried deep within you..." He held up a hand when Dean grinned and took a breath to realize that there was no Omega mother. "And that's okay. You're an Omega and there's nothing wrong with your instincts. They can't stop you from doing whatever you want in life, but... whatever. Whether you choose a family or a career or both, you're too young now to know what you'll want in five or ten years. One thing you can be sure of though, your Alpha won't wait too long to make your decision, because he's not getting any younger."
He frowned in confusion. What the hell did he mean? Cas wasn't old or anything. He was pretty damn fit, and if he passed his job, he wasn't in danger of dying in a few years, was he?
"That's something to think about." He got up, taking his plate with him. "When you're thirty, he'll be fifty, and when you're fifty, he probably won't be around. You should think about yourself, your future and your life, because we only have one life, and in the end we always live it mostly alone," he finished, taking the plate to the sink.
Regardless of the fact that Sonny's words were some kind of philosophical mumbo jumbo, they left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Sonny had practically told him that he was ruining his life by choosing Castiel. He was resigned to his future at Castiel's side; more than that, he wanted it. At that point, he considered it the best thing that could have happened to him in his life. But Sonny's words made him realize that he was damn right. Even if his Alpha was here in a hundred years, he'd still die before Dean. And there was nothing he could do about that. All he could do was spend every minute they had left together, only he was prevented from doing so by being locked in this damn place.
He felt the same pressure on his chest as this morning, and his Omega began to shift nervously, forcing him to shift as well. At the very least, he had to get away from Sonny.
"I'm going to the bedroom," he said, grabbing the bag in front of him rather thoughtlessly and disappearing into his room. He didn't care that Alpha called after him to clean up the tools.
He closed the door to his room behind him, snapped the latch shut, and then slid to the floor. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wood. He wasn't really safe here, but at least it gave him the appearance of safety, and so the pressure on his chest eased. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He really needed to get his damn act together. The problem was that he had never felt like this in his life before, and in many ways.
No. He had to take his mind somewhere else. Like... the bag rustled in his hand. He opened his eyes and looked at it. Shaving cream, such a trivial thing, but... he opened the bag to see what the Alpha had actually bought him and paused.
There was shaving cream. He could tell at a glance that it was really for Omegas, because the packaging had a shadowy mosaic of the Greek letters Omega as decoration. But next to it was a pack of pads. Fucking Omega pads! They even had his heat on file. What they hadn't recorded was that he wouldn't need them this time. Not after the horse load of suppressors that had completely wiped out his cycle.
Half angry and half humiliated - he really didn't need some strange Alpha he'd known for barely twenty-four hours to find out about his stuff and even care if he had pads - he crumpled the bag and tossed it and its contents into a corner.
Then he heaved himself up and padded over to his bed, onto which he fell with a sigh. It was too early to fall asleep, but maybe if he closed his eyes for a moment, he'd be somewhere else when he opened them.
He pulled one of the pillows into his arms and closed his eyes.
Chapter Text
He stubbed out his cigarette in the last available space in the ashtray, leaned back and looked over the thin trickle of smoke rising from the still slightly smoldering cigarette at Vladko, who was in a convivial conversation with Pyotr. Vladko's long gray hair and thick beard hanging over his round face were in direct contrast to Pyotr's not only shaved cheeks, but also shaved head and the fact that the old Beta had visibly lost weight in recent weeks. He also drank and smoked much less than before. Something had changed about him. Castiel had noticed it before, but only now was he able to focus on it more. He finally knew how his Omega was doing, and although he wanted him back even more than before, the pictures his own men had brought him managed to calm him down. They showed Dean walking a little black boy to the bus stop and a blond boy his own age to the same school. He looked much better than he had on that fateful night in the emergency room where an ambulance had taken him straight from Sun Hill.
He clenched his jaw to stifle a growl.
Just the name... the poetic Solnechny kholm... a name that was supposed to evoke something beautiful, one of the Lord's true gifts, was the name of the lair of that human garbage. It was a disgusting suchiy vyrodok who deserved nothing less than to decompose alive in a vat of lye. Not just for daring to touch Castiel's property, but for being such a disgusting pig. Thirteen was a limit he was willing to tolerate, but this corrupt imitation of a human had touched real puppies.
He knew the black market as well as anyone, knew what, or rather who, was for sale there and for what purpose, and didn't interfere in other people's business. But he himself had certain limits, and selling puppies for sex was far beyond those limits, no matter how profitable it was. And this limits was shared not only by his men, but also by his brothers. At least Michael and Gabriel and Raphael did. As for Lucifer... He didn't choose his nickname by accident. He was capable of anything, including betraying the Brotherhood, and it was only Michael and the steel bars of his prison cell that kept him in check.
So no one protested when he expressed his desire to punish Evans for touching Dean and for being the way he was, and it was easy to enlist the help of allies. The problem was that the police had the upper hand. They were watching Evans very closely. His injuries, which Castiel was sure Dean had inflicted on him -- he recognized his somewhat hasty handwriting not only in Evans' injuries but also in the burning of the shelter, but he was still proud of him for that -- were not serious enough to require time in the infirmary, and so he was immediately put in the Hole. That meant twenty-three hours alone in a small cell in a closed ward where only a limited number of guards were allowed to go, and only one of them was on the Brotherhood's payroll, and he'd just had two weeks' leave. Approaching the foul animal that had the temerity to lay a hand on his Omega was impossible at this point, and it frustrated more than just Castiel's Alpha, who was highly annoyed and growled in his ear almost constantly. But also his own.
He needed to see the blood flow.
"... It's pretty certain they'll have another delivery there. The shaker from the docks is reliable on this one," Vladko said, taking a sip.
He had to be patient where Evans was concerned, but maybe he could fix his mood by irritating the Albanian a little. A little mischief that would cost them a few hundred thousand, ruin weeks of planning, and cause trouble between them and their business partners was never a bad thing. And it would be nice payback for the stolen drug shipment last week, which might have been worth less than the goods in the container Vladko was talking about, but... there were always market permutations and some of that interest to be reckoned with.
"Could we get to the Albanian shipment without them knowing?" He asked.
Vladko leaned back in his chair, ruffled his beard, and let out a somewhat thoughtful and somewhat satisfied growl, aided by the sweet scent of vanilla. As always, he immediately tuned in to the wave of Balkan teasing.
"Absolutely, but I don't know where we'd put their stuff. We'd have to find some new places to store it," he said thoughtfully, a hint of ambergris letting it be known that he was unhappy with the capacity they currently had. It was also the reason he had agreed to Alastair's disposal without hesitation. Their territory was already overcrowded, and they needed not only new roads to trade on, but also new places to store or house goods.
"I don't plan to keep the goods," he replied, earning slightly surprised looks from his two Lieutenants. "I thought there might be an accident. Temperatures drop to zero at night, there's a strong wind in the harbor, and the pier is usually covered with ice. And it's amazing how easily a shipping container can fall into the ocean."
"Isn't that a shame? There could be some exotics in there," Pyotr pointed out.
Old Beta was certainly right. On the other hand, the Albanians had somewhat different resources than they or the Italians, and it wouldn't hurt to spice up the assortment a bit, but...
"As Vladko said, we don't have the capacity at the moment. I don't want to give the goods to the Albanians, and we can't just dump them on the street. Getting rid of it is the best solution," he finished, standing up and picking up his belongings - cigarettes, lighter and phones - from the table: "I'm counting on you to take care of it."
His two Lieutenants hummed in agreement, said their goodbyes, and returned to the matter at hand. On his way to the door, he overheard them discussing bribes for the Port Authority and wondering if there was anyone among them who knew how to operate a crane. Using someone who was in the Brotherhood or had been on their payroll for a long time would be safer than trying to buy one of the workers directly at the container port. It was a pretty safe bet that when he found out what was in the container he'd dumped in the water, he'd freak out and it might have to be removed, but those were problems he left to his men. It was their job, after all.
At the moment he was facing a court hearing regarding the custody of Dean.
At the door of the back room, Yuri helped him into his coat and opened the door for him. On his way out, Boris, who had been sitting at the bar, opened the door again, and then they both joined him behind his back as he walked through the brisk morning to the car parked at the corner.
°°0°°
Missouri set the cup with the rest of the coffee beside her on the wooden bench that lined the walls of the hallway outside the courtroom. And she began to search through the files she had with her for the one that belonged to Omega Dean Winchester. Today she would spend the entire day, until three in the afternoon, attending several court sessions, one of which would decide whether Dean would be placed in the custody of Alpha Novak. The same Alpha who had been abusing Omega for weeks. Like so many times before, she couldn't believe how absurd some parts of their system were. It was ridiculously easy for Novak to file for custody under that absurd Omega in Distress Act that had been passed almost a hundred years ago. She doubted it had ever had any purpose other than to prevent the emancipated Omegas who had learned to fend for themselves during the First and Second World Wars from continuing to be independent and have the exact rights that every human being deserved. Today, this law has no meaning whatsoever. It should have been repealed long ago, but unfortunately it was so little used that no politician saw any point in even considering changing or repealing it. It was only useful as a pre-election issue to get the votes of pro-Omega rights advocates.
After all the young Omega had been through, not only at Sun Hill, but before that at the hands of Novak and, sadly, his own father, it was simply sick to lose his most basic rights. His freedom. And become something very close to a slave.
"Missouri Mosley...?" A woman whose voice was vaguely familiar spoke to her.
She lifted her head from rummaging through her bag, removing her close-up glasses to get a good look at the woman. It took her a moment to recognize her.
"Detective Ballard!" She greeted her with a smile and an outstretched hand; she had worked with the Special Victims Unit detective several times before and found her to be a very sharp, open-minded Beta who was fully committed to the purpose of her job. Much like Missouri herself. "Are you here because of the Omega Dean Winchester case?" She asked, although she was almost certain that was why Ballard was here. Before the Special Victims Unit had shelved the investigation, Dean and Novak had been the case for Ballard and her Alpha colleague, Detective Sheridan.
"Yes." Ballard nodded, letting go of her hand and nodding toward the bench. "Can I sit down?"
"Yes. Yes, of course, dear. " She moved her coffee to the other side to make room for the detective.
"I'm sure you already know that we've closed the investigation..."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do."
"We didn't have enough hard evidence and Dean refused to testify, he won't even testify in the Sun Hill and Alpha Evans case," Ballard didn't beat around the bush and got right to the point. "But lack of evidence wasn't the main reason we had to close the investigation. I can't tell you much more than that, but... I'm here to do everything I can to make sure that Novak never comes near Dean again. I've already spoken to the lawyer. She'll call me as an interested witness."
Missouri smiled gratefully at Ballard.
"That may not even be necessary," she said hopefully. "Judge Barbara Williams will hear our case. I've been in her court many times. She takes her time with each case, is very progressive, and makes no secret of her views on the need to improve social conditions for Omegas. Plus, she's an Omega herself. We have hope that she will sweep his request off the table before you take the stand."
"Let's hope she does," Ballard nodded, glancing over Missouri's shoulder. "That's him," she said, nodding her head.
When she turned, she didn't have to ask which of the approaching men Detective Ballard was referring to. Alpha Novak was undeniably an Alpha, and though he wasn't one of the most physically imposing Alphas Missoury had ever seen, he wasn't easy to miss. He moved with the confidence of a dominant Alpha who considered every place he entered his territory, and his expensive suit, the rings on his hands, the distinctive cufflinks, and the unmistakable gold watch and gold pin in his tie made his wealth obvious. He was an Alpha who was convinced that he would always get what he wanted, and unfortunately, he probably did.
Walking in front of him was a short, curly-haired man in an expensive suit and shiny shoes who looked more like a divorce lawyer for the rich than the lawyers she saw in the courtroom at their briefings. And behind Alpha walked an angular man with a massive jaw and thinning brown hair that curled slightly, who looked like Novak's bodyguard. He wore a much cheaper suit than Novak and his lawyer, and it was clear he wasn't used to it, for he had adjusted his tie four times in the short walk from the elevator, and he had exactly the cramped look of a man choking on his own clothes.
The door to the courtroom opened and people from the last stand began to emerge. Missouri nodded to her colleague in the office. She quickly returned the nod and hurried to the elevator. She probably had appointments for some of her cases and a pile of paperwork to catch up on.
The attendees of the last stand were a short distance away, putting on their coats as they chatted quietly with one another. Most of the people in the hallways of the courthouse talked quietly because the judicial institution commanded a certain amount of respect and people tried to show it by whispering, but of course Missouri had seen some pretty wild instances of people arguing not only in the courtroom itself but in the hallways as well, and she'd even seen a few fights in her career that had to be broken up by bailiffs. When it came to children or a complicated divorce, people were emotional.
The group from the last session left, followed by another, slightly larger and louder, from the next courtroom, which people waiting for their cases to be heard entered moments later. And then another group. By this time she was getting nervous. Courtroom number six, which would be Williams' for the day, had been empty for a good half hour. Yes, she was a meticulous judge, and she liked to go over the paperwork before she stood, but that always took her five minutes at most.
Finally, the courtroom door opened and the bailiff stood inside.
"Hearing in the matter of the transfer of minor Omega into Alpha custody, case number NYJD-OMEGA-ALPHA-2404. All interested parties may enter the courtroom."
Both Missouri and Detective Ballard stood and made their way to the courtroom first. Alpha Novak and his entourage allowed them to do so without protest. As she passed Novak, she noticed his intent gaze. He scanned her with blue eyes that resembled the color of a sea lagoon. Something beautiful, warm, bathed in sunlight, yet a shiver ran down her spine and the hair on her neck and arms stood on end the moment their eyes met. Her sixth sense had warned her of this Alpha.
Her hand shot to the cross hidden under the hem of her shirt, then slid a little lower to the protective amulet. Clasping it briefly in her palm, she sent a silent prayer to the protective forces of nature to help her at this moment, to keep the poor Omega from falling into the hands of the cold-eyed Alpha. And finally she entered.
She took her usual seat while Ballard sat beside her, and they both glanced anxiously at the empty bench. Except for the judge, everyone else was present. The court reporter sat behind a computer with a small camera attached to it, recording the proceedings. All the bailiffs and, of course, the Children's Lawyer appointed by the State of New York to represent Dean's rights in this case. Her job was to convince the judge that it was better for Dean to remain in Sonny's foster home than to be placed in Alpha's care.
The bailiff stepped to the bench and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Due to unforeseen circumstances, the Honorable Judge Taylor will be presiding over this trial. Since the parties were not notified of the change in presiding judge within the statutory time limit, the petitioning party may request a continuance due to state impediment."
Missouri frowned.
Judge Taylor was a crusty old fart. He was eighty years old. He'd been on the bench three years longer than he should have been because they couldn't find a suitable replacement. She said a suitable replacement would be someone who didn't hold views from the 1950s, when Omegas could only marry Alphas and had to wear collars with their family name on them from the age of three. She had also heard him make light of violence against puppies, and distrust or even ridicule underage victims of sexual violence. The guy was an Alpha who definitely didn't belong in a courtroom.
"Hello. Do you know why Judge Williams isn't sitting?" She leaned forward with the question to Davis, the Beta child lawyer who was supposed to be representing Dean.
"I'll ask the bailiff," she replied, nodding to one of the cutters. When he came closer, she asked him directly: "Where's Judge Williams?"
"Someone crashed her car in the garage," the bailiff replied. "She went to check it out. It was supposed to take a few minutes, but then she sent an usher down here to ask Judge Taylor to take this stand. She should be back for the next one."
"Thank you."
The bailiff nodded and returned to his seat.
"Is Judge Taylor a problem?" Ballard asked.
Missouri frowned at her. Of course, the detective had no experience with Taylor. Police officers generally attended criminal trials, not family courts, and that was true of Special Victims Unit detectives as well.
"Judge Taylor is a traditionalist. We'd have to make a strong case for not releasing Omega Winchester into Alf Novak's custody for him not to grant the motion."
"They'll subpoena me and I'll testify about the suspicions we have against Novak. It will cast doubt on his character."
"I'm not sure the judge will give us a chance to do that," the lawyer argued, and it was clear she was about to explain why, but just then the door behind the bench opened and Judge Taylor walked in.
"All rise, the Honorable Judge Taylor is approaching," the bailiff announced, and everyone in the courtroom rose to their feet.
Like most Alphas, he kept his back straight and his head erect despite his advanced age. This, combined with his white hair and short white beard, gave him a dignified and scholarly appearance. It was as if he were an Alpha whose decisions were made with deliberation and knowledge, and who could be trusted implicitly.
He made it clear at the beginning of the meeting who he really was.
He climbed the few steps to the bench and sat down with a sigh, sweeping the room with a haughty look and sniffing loudly.
"At least there are no Omegas here," he commented gruffly, reaching for the gavel. "Then let's get this over with. I've been pulled out since lunch." He tapped the gavel twice. "I will open negotiations. You may sit."
There was a shuffle and a creak as the few people in the courtroom sat down. The judge waited for the room to fill with sepulchral silence before turning to Novak and his attorney.
"As the petitioner, you have the right to speak first, but please be brief. This is just a formality anyway, so let's not be here until tomorrow," he urged Novak's lawyer in a completely disinterested tone, waving his hand casually in his direction.
"Of course, Your Honor, I'll be brief, and thank you for the word," Novak's lawyer replied in a polite tone, his voice soft and sounding somewhat condescending. "My client, Alpha Novak, seeks custody of Omega Dean Henry Winchester. A dependent, underage Omega with whom he shares a strong scent bond. He considers him to be his True Mate and wishes to mate with him in the future and give him the full care that an Alpha is supposed to give to his Omega Mate," Novak's attorney began bluntly. His words would not have made a good impression on Judge Williams, but in Taylor's case it was just the opposite. All of the lawyer's words played on the judge's heartstrings, as if Novak's lawyer had perhaps prepared this speech in advance just for Judge Taylor and never counted on Judge Williams. "Omega Winchester's current situation is that he is in foster care with two other boys besides the Omega in question. My client is concerned that Omega is not getting the kind of care he needs there and believes he can provide a better life for him. In addition, this will relieve the state of the financial burden of providing Omega with a first class home without any assistance from the state's coffers," Novak's attorney continued. "Here you can see some of the supporting documents..." he handed the bailiff several documents "that show my client's solvency and his impeccable social life."
The judge took a few sheets of paper, put on his brogues, which were now hanging from a cord around his neck, and began to leaf through the documents. Missouri had no doubt that they were tax returns, a statement of assets, and probably some letters of confidence.
"Okay. I have your arguments," the judge said, setting the documents aside before turning to the child's attorney. "Does the state have any objections?"
"Yes, Your Honor. The State believes that the minor Omega should not be in the custody of an unrelated Alpha," the lawyer said, repeating an argument often used in similar proceedings.
"He is now also in the custody of an unrelated Alpha because the foster parent with whom the Omega in question lives is an Alpha," Novak's attorney argued.
"Yes, but he's a registered foster parent who went through a thorough screening process and met all the requirements set by the state for foster parents. That's an unparalleled situation."
"The same selection process that Alpha Evans, the director of the Sun Hill Omega Shelter, went through?" Novak's attorney asked in an innocent voice, then turned to the judge. "Your Honor will be aware of the great fire at the Sun Hill shelter and the atrocities committed for years against the Omegas there that have slowly begun to surface in recent days. Omega Winchester was also placed in the Sun Hill shelter and... dare I say fortunately... spent less than a week there. After such an experience, he needs a stable and loving environment, which my client is able and willing to provide."
"Perhaps my colleague, Mr. Shurley, should specify how loving that environment will be," Davis replied. "His client has been investigated by the police as a person of interest in the Omega Winchester abuse case, and I have a witness...Detective Ballard, who is willing to testify as to the character qualities of Alpha Novak."
"I beg to differ, Your Honor!" protested Shurley. "Alpha Novak has been accused of nothing, and he has never made any secret of the fact that he knows Omega Winchester, has met with him repeatedly, and has provided him with a place to live and funds. As I said, he considers the Omega in question to be his Mate and caring for him is a matter of his deepest Alpha instincts. You can see here, Your Honor, that he assumed his role as Alpha guardian before it was his legal duty to do so."
"I'm asking about your client's ulterior motives..." the child's attorney began when she was interrupted by three hammer blows.
"That's enough," the judge interrupted with a low growl emanating from his chest. "It seems, Ms. Davis, that you have mistaken my courtroom for a reality show. I am not Judge Judy, and I have no interest in listening to anyone's verbal skirmishes over such a trivial matter. All I need is one look," he turned to Novak, "and I clearly see a strong, solvent Alpha with a good reputation who is not only able and willing to provide a proper home for a dependent Omega in the future, he's already done so. And I see no reason why I should deny him the perfectly natural right to a True Mate and, moreover, put such a strain on our already meager treasury. By virtue of the Omegas in Distress Act, I'm granting Alf Novak full custody of Omega Winchester. This concludes the proceedings!" He concluded with a few powerful bangs of his gavel, sealing Dean's unfortunate fate forever. "Enjoy your lunch, everyone, if you're having lunch like I am," he added calmly as he stood up, as if he hadn't just sentenced the sixteen-year-old Omega to five years without the most basic of rights.
"That's it? He didn't even take five minutes to decide! And I didn't get to testify," echoed Detective Ballard, as disappointed in the judge's decision as Missouri was.
"I'm sorry. I did the best I could," Davis replied. "The truth is that Judge Taylor holds values and views that most of society no longer tolerates, but which played into the hands of the opposing side in this case," the attorney explained.
"If you could at least put me on the stand..."
"This is not a criminal trial, it's a family court. Every judge and lawyer has at least three dozen cases a day. We can't spend hours on each one. We wouldn't get anything done. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is," she said aloud, saying what was all too familiar to Missouri and what was her problem. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to get ready for the next stand."
"We should go, dear. There's not much more we can do here," Detective Balalrd said conciliatorily, patting her hand encouragingly before getting up and heading for the courtroom exit.
"I assume you're going to try to overturn the decision," Ballard said on her way out.
"Absolutely, but it'll take weeks to get back into court."
"Novak's motion was heard immediately."
"That's because the Omega in Distress Act takes priority. So do emergency guardianships," she explained, setting her bag down on the bench outside the courtroom so she could put Dean's file back in and take another one out. "I don't like it as much as you do, but there's only so much we can do in the heat of the moment. Alpha Novak has been granted custody, and Omega must be in his custody within twenty-four hours of the verdict. By this time tomorrow he will have him and there is nothing we can do to stop it."
"No, you can't, because that's the law," came from behind them, and as Missouri turned she was met with the smiling face of Novak's lawyer. "Is this the Omega Winchester file?" He asked, looking down at the file she still held in her hand; she didn't answer him, but he drew his own conclusion. "Why don't you give me the address so Omega can finally get to his new home?"
"That's not so easy. There are still documents that your client has to sign."
"Then let's sign it now."
"I don't have time for you right now. I have a few more cases. But you can come by my office this afternoon between three and four, or tomorrow between eight and nine," he said, handing Shurley his card. "Office number eight. And now I have to go. They're expecting me," she nodded to Miss Craig, who was already standing nervously at the door of the next courtroom. She really had her malpractice case next, but she had at least twenty minutes before the hearing started, during which she could deal with the paperwork with Alpha Novak right here in the hallway, but she wanted to give Dean at least one last night of peace and freedom before he lost everything.
"You're not going to get anywhere stalling like this," the lawyer pointed out.
"I'm giving Dean a few extra hours of freedom," she replied, turning to Detective Ballard with her hand outstretched. "I'm glad you came, Detective, and hopefully we'll see you under better circumstances next time."
Ballard shook her hand. Missouri also gave Shurley a slight nod of greeting, out of forced politeness, and headed off to speak with Miss Craig, ignoring the intense stare the Alpha Nova was directing at the back of her head.
Chapter Text
"... and he has cards that speak for him. I think it's great. I'd like one of those," Timmy babbled excitedly about his school friend.
In the few days he'd spent with Alpha Sonny so far, Dean had learned that Timmy's mother was an alcoholic and a junkie, and that she'd probably beaten the little Beta boy when he was a toddler. His life with her - if such care could be called a life - had left him with broken bones and scars, as well as brain damage that left him with poor vision and coordination. Alpha said that when Timmy came to him less than a year ago, he couldn't speak properly or even hold a spoon. Now he was finally going to school, and even though he had a lighter schedule and went to an extra class three times a week to catch up on what he'd missed as a child, Dean could hardly tell anything about him. Yeah, he was a little clumsy, things fell out of his hands, he got sides mixed up, he took forever to get dressed, but he literally loved all his chores, which he did to perfection. If he was that bad, then Alpha Sonny did a great job. What's more... he'd done something Dean was convinced Alphas just couldn't do. I mean... he couldn't imagine any of his Alphas patiently teaching a little puppy how to eat, helping him get dressed even when he couldn't, or putting up with him breaking things.
Dad simply expected both his sons to handle his orders the first time, and Castiel didn't give the impression he was willing to tolerate stupidity or clumsiness either. Bobby... well, Bobby was probably more comfortable with that, but even he probably didn't have the patience to worry about Timmy.
"Put the phone down, Bart," Alpha said.
Beta sighed theatrically, but put the phone in his pocket. He spent the whole trip to the park on it, while Dean led Timmy by the hand, trying to follow the thread of his story about school. Unlike the older of the Betas, he had no one to text or call besides Sam and Case, and since he'd talked to Sam before he left and sent him off to study, and since he couldn't text Castiel from Sonny's phone, he had nothing to do but worry about Timmy.
"Okay, son, let's go over the rules," Alpha Sonny said with a friendly growl in Timmy's direction, leaning in a little. "What are they?"
"I'm not allowed to leave the park, talk to strangers, or climb on the bigger kids' monkey bars."
"Right. Do you have a phone?"
"Sure!" He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a big phone. The kind of push-button type that was made for old people, and probably for people like Timmy who couldn't handle the little touch screen.
"I'll keep an eye on you, but I want you to keep track of the time and check in every half hour. Deal?" He offered his hand for a shake.
"Deal," Timmy said firmly, shaking Sonny's hand just as vigorously before turning a little awkwardly and running toward the crawlspace.
Dean watched his retreating back and the reflective tape on his right forearm, and his Omega grunted in warning. His instincts made him quickly check his surroundings to make sure the puppy that belonged to his pack - even though he hardly considered Sonny his Alpha - was in no danger. The children's park was separated from the rest of the park by fences, the benches were littered with people who looked like parents enjoying the unseasonably warm autumn afternoon and keeping an eye on their children, the jungle gyms were nice and looked safe, and Timmy immediately struck up a conversation with a boy his own age. Everything seemed to be going well.
So he allowed himself to let the puppy out of his sight and turned to Alpha and the other Beta, who were setting up their picnic together - some sandwiches, chips, biscuits, bottles of water and two thermoses of tea.
The strong morning wind had blown away all the clouds and the autumn sun was beating down on the town with unprecedented force. It was roasting like crazy, and from what Dean could see, it was driving more people to the park than just them.
"Who wants to play a little?" Alpha asked, pulling a glove and a ball out of the other bag, the one that didn't have food in it.
Bart sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, his somewhat disgusted gaze fixed on the baseball glove Alpha held up.
"How long is this mandatory?"
"At least half an hour."
"Okay," he said resignedly, grabbing the glove Sonny offered him and shuffling away from the tables and benches to an open area covered in slightly yellowed grass.
"Did you ever play baseball, or at least throw or hit a few balls?" Sonny asked, approaching him with another glove.
"Yeah, Alpha Uncle... Bobby... we went pitching a few times when I was a kid. I know how to do it," he replied, taking the offered glove. It was a few years old now and smelled of a mixture of thin Beta odors in addition to the leather and oils on the leather, but it was still in good shape. Sonny had probably taken good care of it.
"You throw first," Alpha sent the ball to him in a short but high arc. "And I want to see what you've got, Omega!" He added with a playful growl and, pulling on his third glove, began to backpedal.
Dean rolled the ball in his hand. Like the glove, it wasn't new, but it had been well cared for. He gripped it lightly, an involuntary smile creeping across his face, widening into a small, playful growl as he swung and threw the ball in Alpha's direction.
°°0°°
The afternoon was great! He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. Maybe the last time they'd spent two whole months on Bobby, but even that had been... different. Somewhere in the middle of the third sandwich, after they'd been throwing the ball around for half an hour - Bart had enjoyed it, too - and he'd volunteered to swing Timmy around for half an hour, he realized a strange thing; he didn't have to do anything. No one expected him to come home, cook a meal, and do the dishes. He didn't have to go to some seedy diner for the evening shift. He didn't have to scout out the nearest bar to see if there were any regulars he could beat at the pool table for a few bucks. He didn't have a shopping list on his phone or coins stacked in his pocket for laundry. No guns to clean or knives to sharpen. His only obligation was to go to school, try to do well, and stay out of trouble. This life seemed ridiculously simple to him. He didn't understand what everyone was complaining about in the cafeteria and in the hallways. And that he heard the complaints all the time... How their parents wouldn't let them go outside, how they weren't allowed to play video games until two in the morning, how their phones were confiscated at night, how they had to do the dishes or throw things in the washing machine, how their parents wouldn't let them get a driver's license or give them money for a new iPhone and new shoes. Oh, shit! Some have complained that their parents won't buy them a car. A fucking car! When those idiots had to rinse their plates before putting them in the dishwasher, throw their dirty underwear in the hamper, and go to bed at midnight, they had no right to complain! It was fucking heaven!
They stayed in the park until it got dark and cold and stopped at the store on the way back. Alpha Sonny had written out a shopping list, pushed a cart and sent them out to get each item. Timmy participated enthusiastically. He would run off and come back with an armful of merchandise, which he would have to put back on the shelves because he always took something he shouldn't have. He had only started learning to read a few months ago, so he chose items based on how they looked, not what was written on them. Bart would occasionally join in when Sonny specifically told him to bring something, but most of the time he walked with his head down by his phone, and every now and then he'd chuckle at something he thought someone had written or sent him.
And Dean? Dean didn't do anything because he didn't have to, and he enjoyed that freedom. He just walked beside Alpha, hands in his jacket pockets, listening to Sonny read the shopping list, checking what was in the cart and wondering if there was anything else on the list they should buy. He didn't get involved until they were out in the parking lot, where he helped load the stuff into the car and buckle Timmy in. The Beta puppy was actually unconscious. He literally fell asleep standing up, just leaning sideways against the back door of the car, and he had to practically shove him in because Timmy wasn't even remotely cooperative.
And the rest of the trip itself was in silence except for some country music, which was pretty cool.
°°0°°
He rolled from side to side, sighed, and reached across the pellet to the bedside table where his phone was charging. With one glance he saw that it was charged, so he pulled it out. With the other, he checked the time. It was one in the morning. There were nights when he was still working at this hour, but the fact that he was used to not sleeping was not the reason he couldn't sleep. Tonight he'd overdone it a bit, and the damn bruises that covered his entire side were starting to hurt again, going all the way up to his back. He decided to sit in the living room for a while instead of tossing and turning on the bed.
He crept out quietly. He left the lights off everywhere, leaving only his phone on, and sat down on the couch. Yeah, sitting helped a little, so he put his feet up on the coffee table and reached for the switch that someone had left on the couch. Probably Timmy, he was about the only one watching the TV. He pressed the button and cartoons started to play on the TV. It was probably an endless loop of old episodes. That was cool. He turned the sound down to minimum, not knowing the context anyway, and relaxed with a sigh.
The omnipresent smell of hibiscus and tea mixed with Beta scents didn't suffocate him like it had the first two or three days, but something was still missing. He didn't have to wonder if it was roasted cherries with bitter almonds and sandalwood with olive oil. Strangely, he didn't miss the birch and roses as much, probably because he was used to his dad being away all the time.
A door slammed from the left.
Dean put his feet on the ground and tensed up all over. He pricked up his ears as he sucked in air to see who had opened the door to his room and who the slowly approaching footsteps belonged to. He smelled hibiscus with a strong hint of tea and something sour like lemon. A part of him immediately thought of running or finding a weapon as the Alpha approached and they were alone in the same room, but the rational part of his brain told him it was just unnecessary fear. He had been in Sonny's lair for five days now, and in all that time, not only had the Alpha not tried anything, he hadn't even had wandering hands or eyes, and he hadn't even felt a twinge of excitement from him. It was as if the young, fertile Omega literally at his fingertips didn't care about him at all. Maybe it was the suppressants still circulating in Dean's blood that muffled his scent.
Sonny came out from behind the wall, back straight, chin held high and lips parted slightly as if he was about to growl, but when he saw Dean he instantly relaxed all over. In fact, at that moment, Dean lowered his head even more and relaxed his shoulders, giving in to his instincts rather than doing it on purpose, letting it be known that he wasn't looking for any conflict.
"Dean..." the Alpha murmured, putting a soothing Alpha tone and a soft growl into his voice. "Can't sleep?"
"Yeah, kind of..." he admitted, flipping the switch. "I didn't want to wake you. I'll turn it off and go back to sleep." He really didn't want to wake anyone, and he didn't think he'd mind if the TV was just on quietly, but... yeah. This wasn't his apartment, after all, and he didn't want to start a fight by causing unnecessary trouble. Alpha Sonny was nothing like Evans. Nothing in Dean urged him to fight Alpha, although he had no unusually strong urge to submit to him either. But he was a decent guy who did a lot for the kids he cared about, and Dean saw no reason to make his life miserable.
"That's all right. Leave it," Alpha stopped him and stepped closer to the couch. "I haven't slept and I don't feel like it. Can I sit down?"
Dean looked at the couch.
He was almost sure that he was in no danger from Alpha Sonny, but since they were so close, either he was outside or someone else was in the room, or at least a table separated them. Having a strange Alpha so close to him brought back unpleasant memories of skin digging into his scent glands, red eyes that were too close... shit where Omegas belonged and... He swallowed the disgusting taste that appeared in his mouth like a phantom and looked down at the screen.
"Sure. It's your couch," he said casually, trying not to tense up too much as he heard a rustling at his side and felt the pillow under his ass sag as the Alpha sat up. He couldn't resist glancing out of the corner of his eye to see that Sonny had sat down on the complete opposite end of the couch, resting his forearm against the armrest. He looked pretty comfortable, but it was also clear that he was trying not to stretch out too much and not get too close to Dean.
Silence fell between us, broken only by the occasional car passing outside the windows, distant police sirens, and the squeaky voices of cartoon characters speaking so softly they couldn't be understood anyway.
"Bad dreams?" Sonny asked suddenly.
He looked at him, a little surprised. It startled him that he had spoken at all.
"No, it's okay. My back just hurts," he replied, looking back at the screen.
"After what you've been through, there wouldn't be anything wrong with nightmares or not being able to sleep. It would help to talk about it."
This time he frowned a little at Alpha and wrinkled his nose, which was hit by the strong scent of the protective Alpha. Sonny seemed genuinely interested.
"I don't have nightmares," he denied, which was... actually true and surprised him. He hadn't had any nightmares about what had happened at Sun Hill, more like waking flashes and occasional feelings of confinement, but nothing as bad as that first day here. He didn't feel... traumatized or anything, and yeah, he was vaguely aware that there was probably something wrong with him. That he should be freaking out more than forty-eight hours after literally crawling out of a burning hellhole, but... hey! What was he complaining about, anyway? After all, he had a dream about his mom last night. He was fine.
"I just... " he hesitated; he actually wanted to assure Alpha that he was fine and not to worry about him, but the only way to talk him out of the nightmare idea was to show him the reason he wasn't sleeping. "It's just the bruises," he finished, lifting his shirt a little.
Most of the bruises were on his right side. That's where he got all the kicks. He didn't show Sonny that one, though, preferring to show him the bruise on the other side that he wasn't even sure when or where he'd gotten.
A growl cut through the air with so much anger that Dean not only dropped his shirt but froze, his gaze fixed on the unusually bright-teethed Alpha, pushing himself into the corner of the couch and parting his lips slightly to show his own fangs as a warning. He made it clear that he would defend himself.
"I'm sorry, Omega. I didn't mean to scare you," the Alpha apologized, raising both hands, and the growl was replaced by a low purr and Sonny lowered his head.
"I'm not scared," he replied, relaxing as well.
"You have an unusually faint scent for an Omega, but I could feel it souring every time I got close to you. I know you're afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid... of you specifically," he replied, not really knowing why I was going into an explanation, but continuing anyway. "I think you're going to be a pretty nice guy, and I know I have no reason to be afraid of you, but... dude, you're just an Alpha, and I don't want anyone else around me but my Alphas. Okay? So don't take it personally."
"Your Alphas?"
"Yeah. Dad, Sammy and... My Alpha."
"You only have Alphas around you..." It was part question, but also a thoughtful statement.
"And you're all Betas again," he replied automatically, slightly defensive. "You should find an Omega. It would do you good."
Alpha Sonny blinked in surprise, and a short chuckle escaped his lips.
"You're not the first of my boys to say that," he admitted cheerfully, but then his laugh and smile faded. "But I told you why it can't be done."
"Bullshit," he snapped back. "You'd find an Omega who'd be happy to take care of the kids you're taking in."
"But I wouldn't find one that I'm sure is doing it of her own free will," Sonny told him, earning a questioning look from Dean. "I'm an Alpha. I can't deny my influence on Omegas, which is why I never take Omegas into my care. I want the children who leave my lair to be self-sufficient, proud, have their own plans for the future... And I'm afraid I couldn't raise an Omega that way. Traumatized Omegas and those who lose their pack, their family, are very sensitive to Alpha domination. I might inadvertently suppress their personalities."
"But you took me."
"Missouri told me you were a very dominant and strong Omega, and she was right. With you, I don't feel for a moment that you will submit to me except of your own free will and when you choose to do so."
He couldn't help the amused grin he allowed himself, also because he didn't get any bad smells from Sonny. Just sweet hibiscus.
"That must make you very angry, huh, Alpha?" He asked provocatively, but obviously in jest, wiggling his eyebrows for a little extra glamour.
In response, he got a chuckle from Alpha and another burst of sweet amusement that filled him with a sense of satisfaction with a small twinge of pride. It wasn't quite as strong as Case's, where his Omega would glow with pride and purr with joy every time he managed to amuse his Alpha, or even make him laugh. But it wasn't a bad feeling to make Sonny's Alpha happy either.
"A little bit, yes," the Alpha admitted in a light tone, but there was a seriousness to it. "But at the same time, it makes me feel really good every time we reach the stairs. My Alpha likes to be respected by a strong and independent Omega like you, Dean. Because it's real respect, and it can't be forced. That's not respect, that's fear."
He pursed his lips and turned his gaze for a moment to the animated hound running on the screen.
"Castiel says the same thing," he pointed out, not sure why. "But most Alphas are annoyed by the way I am. I've only ever gotten in trouble for it, and I know I always will, but I can't change, you know?" He turned back to Sonny. "It's not like I'm trying to be this way. I just... I don't know..." He shrugged. "I don't feel the urge to bow my head and duck and submit every time I see an Alpha, and I know Omegas usually act that way. I see it all the time, you know? There's Knots everywhere, walking in the middle, not paying attention to anything or anyone. All the Betas get out of the way, and all the Omegas bow down and are willing to do anything for them. When I see a Knothead like that, all I feel is anger and contempt. Like in that shithole..." He paused; what the hell was he doing? Spilling his guts to someone he barely knew? He looked at Sonny, who was watching him and seemed ready to listen. Dean gritted his teeth. Now that he had brought it up, he could finish, "I took a lot more hits than the others because I couldn't submit to that Alpha bastard. That's who I am, but I don't know why or who I inherited it from, because my mom was a perfect Omega. She was always happy and kind and loved puppies and loved to take care of our house. That's the kind of Omega any Alpha would want. I'll never be like her," he added with a hint of wistfulness.
Yeah, he trusted Cas, he didn't really want a pet Omega, he wanted Dean to mostly fake it in public and that was fine. He could handle that. It was Dean himself who'd been thinking for the last few days that he wanted to have at least a little bit of his Omega mommy, because spending his life with Castiel... having a puppy... meant he had to be at least a little more Omega than he was, or he'd fuck it up. Little puppies just needed all that shit, like cute toys and a comfy nest. If he not only couldn't nest, but didn't want to nest, where would he put his puppy? Just in a crib, like most Beta parents do? That might work for an Alpha puppy, but what if it's an Omega? Who's going to teach him to build a proper nest? Will he never learn? What if he's not like Dean and has to nest?
That was just one example of how he could screw up his child.
"No one, not even your Alpha, can force you to change unless you allow it," he said, not having heard the tone of Dean's last comment, just misunderstanding it.
"That's not it. He's not trying to change me," he retorted, perhaps more firmly than was necessary, but he was tired of hearing Castiel force him to do things, as if he were one of those Omegas who obediently ducked his head and got wet every time an Alpha ordered something. "I want to change. I want to be a good Omega for him," he said firmly, then stopped. "Damn... that came out wrong. It's like I'm trying to please him or something, but I'm not. It's only when I'm with him that..." I want to be owned by my Alpha, he finished mentally, but this time he refrained from saying it out loud. It would have sounded even worse.
"You want to be owned by your Alpha," Sonny finished for him, as if that was completely normal. Yeah, he really liked owning an Omega. He was an Alpha and Alphas wanted to own everything. It was in their blood.
"No!" he snarled, baring his teeth. "I'm not a dog or some damned property! No one can own me!"
"Saying someone owns you isn't always a bad thing," the Alpha replied cryptically, unfazed by Dean's growl. "No one, not even the law, should give Alphas the right to own another human, even an Omega, and you shouldn't be forced to obey an Alpha against your will. But you can choose to be owned by an Alpha. Submit to him, obey him. Be his Omega. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just..." He paused for a moment, his scent becoming bitter like a very strong tea. "You should just take enough time to think about whether you've chosen the right Alpha, because once you make that decision and get bitten, it's hard to go back."
He opened his mouth but closed it again because he didn't really have anything to say. Sonny was eerily accurate in describing what Dean was feeling. The frightening difference between when some poor little knot decided to force him to do something or make him obey, and the feeling of joy when he was able to help Castiel in any way, and when his Alpha was proud of him.
"What's wrong?" He echoed absently.
Dean looked over the Alpha's head. Little Timmy was standing under the key rack, his fingers resting on the wall as he did when he didn't have his glasses on and needed to orient himself, rubbing his eye wearily with the knuckles of his hand.
"Nothing, pup, just talking," the Alpha told him, already up and on his way. "Come here..." With ease, he lifted him into his arms and half-threw him over his right shoulder. "I'm going to carry you back to bed," he said, his voice laced with a low Alpha purr, and when he turned to Dean, he had his hand on the back of Timmy's head, lightly stroking through his hair. "You can stay here a little longer, but then try to get some sleep. You have school tomorrow."
"Okay, Alpha. And good night."
"Night, Dean," he said goodbye.
"Night..." muttered little Beta, waving sleepily at Dean.
"Night, puppy, and have a nice snuggle so the scarecrows don't eat your toes," he said goodbye to Timmy.
He waited and listened until he heard Sonny carry the Beta puppy into his room, then he turned off the sound completely and threw his feet up on the table again.
Chapter 61
Notes:
I know there haven't been any adventure, romance, or erotica chapters lately, but... I'm adding them quickly. You'll have that boring part over soon enough. :-D
Chapter Text
Yesterday's warm afternoon was replaced by cold weather and strong winds. A thin rain, a drop here and there, fell into Dean's hair as he leaned against a lamppost and watched Bart say goodbye to his friends at the bus stop. He didn't have to wait here or at the school, but he did. He was used to it, and Beta wasn't much older than Sammy, so he felt responsible for him.
Tearing his gaze away from the laughing Beta, who was showing his friends something on his phone, he reached into his pocket for his own phone and threw on his backpack, which was slung over only one shoulder. With a glance he saw that it was already half past four. They'd been standing in the rain and wind for more than half an hour while Bart chatted with the friends he'd had at school all day and with whom he'd chatted into the night. Unless he was watching porn or videos of some amateur rappers. Dean had had enough of that. He wasn't having any fun and the Alpha wouldn't be happy if they were late.
He put his phone back in his pocket, stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.
"Move your ass! We were supposed to be home half an hour ago."
"Yeah, right now!" Bart called back, but he didn't seem to be saying goodbye to his friends.
"Dude... I'm not freezing in here anymore! Fuck you and I'm out of here! I'm not responsible for you, and if the Alpha gets pissed off, that's your business!" he shouted, and without waiting to see if Beta would give him any kind of answer, he just turned and walked away.
He could just make out all four of Bart's friends staring at him, and one of them leaned over to Beta and said something so quietly that it couldn't be heard over the distance and the wind, all the while looking right at Dean. It wasn't hard to guess why he was staring, and this time it probably didn't have much to do with the fact that Dean was unusually tall and muscular for an Omega, and especially loud and expressive, because he really wasn't. Sure, he hadn't miraculously shrunk in size, but without his clothes and style, he looked more like... well, a normal Omega boy from a normal family, I guess. He just didn't stand out in plain, cheap jeans, black boots, a white t-shirt, and a light blue hoodie under a black down jacket.
This time he was getting attention at his new school because of Sun Hill and the videos of him running out of the burning Omega house. He wasn't clearly visible in all of them, and his name didn't appear anywhere in the news, even though the video had made the rounds on most of the news sites and stations here in New York, so people weren't really sure if it was him, but yeah, they recognized him. And since there had been a lot of talk about Evans' arrest and speculation about what was going on at Sun Hill in the last three days, the classmates at the new school mostly reacted in one of two ways. Some kept their distance from Dean and talked about him behind his back; most felt sorry for him, but there were also quite a few who didn't believe that anything bad was going on at Sun Hill at all. And then there was the other part that was theatrically supportive. On the first day, the cheerleading squad found him, and when he confirmed to them that he was indeed the one in the video, they gave him a mass hug. Not that he complained. Hell, who would complain about a hug from a bunch of pretty girls. But when strangers started bringing him gifts, it got a little disconcerting and annoying. Not to mention that Omega's idea of the perfect gift was a colorful stuffed animal bought at an "all for a dollar" store. He'd bring them home and give them to Timmy, who loved them, but there were so many of them now that Dean thought it was silly to give the little puppy a handful of cheap animals every day, so they started piling up on the floor in the corner of his room. In the same pile as most of the pillows he'd gotten from Alpha Sonny. At least the stuffed animals were new, and some of them were even sealed in a plastic bag so they wouldn't stink up his room.
No, seriously, what kind of stupid idea was this? How could a bunch of stuffed animals help someone get over a trauma? It only made Dean look up when he had to go to school. He absentmindedly discovered that he had to finish at least this year before he could legally quit the entire school system.
"Dude! Why didn't you wait for me?" Bart asked, grabbing the handle of his backpack to slow him down.
"Because I'm tired of watching you talk about me with your friends," he replied truthfully.
"We weren't talking about you...not much...just asking if you were really an Omega."
Dean rolled his eyes. At least this was something familiar.
"Let them ask me in person. I don't mind showing them my fangs," he replied, willingly lifting his lip to show one of his fangs, which stood out clearly from the rest of his teeth. And so different from Bart's slightly crooked but definitely Beta teeth.
"That wouldn't help much. They didn't think you were a Beta, they thought you were an Alpha. Based on how tall and built you are, like a budding football player. I told them that you were definitely an Omega. But mostly we talked about this," Bart changed the subject and shoved his cell phone with a video on it in Dean's face. "What do you think of SugarPoppy's new video?"
He didn't say anything. He hadn't seen it. Of course he knew her and her videos, who didn't? No one could miss the cute blonde Omega in the tight top who filmed her videos lying down in a huge nest, and the fact that she babbled utter nonsense (even Dean could see that) and screamed into the microphone worse than Britney Spears didn't matter at all. The only thing that mattered was that she wasn't wearing a bra under her top, she had a teddy bear with pink rhinestones in her belly button, and he'd never seen her in anything longer than mid-thigh. In that outfit, with hair like honey and thighs full of lipstick lines she was testing, she could say any number of stupid things and everyone would just nod in agreement.
The problem was, he didn't have a TikTok account, and he certainly wasn't going to set one up on the phone Sonny had given him. And he wasn't even planning on opening an account. It wasn't safe if you really wanted to disappear from the world.
"Let me see..." He took the phone from Bart and started the video.
She was sitting on the edge of her nest bed, feet crossed under her, showing off the latest additions to her collection of platform shoes. They were in a variety of neon colors with contrasting stitching, but who the hell cared when all she was wearing was an oversized t-shirt with a picture of an ice cream cone on it.
"Hey... look what's in front of our house." Bart elbowed him.
Reluctantly, he looked up from Omega, who was showing the camera how one of her shoes fit, and surely it would take little more than what TikTok could take, and looked around to see what Beta might have in mind. His heart jumped in his chest. Suddenly, the half-naked girl in the video was no longer important, because all that registered was his inner Omega starting to shout "Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!' and the familiar limo parked not far from the entrance of their house. It was parked so stupidly that it had a good third of its butt on the sidewalk, while its front end stuck out into the street so far that passing cars had to drive around it. Which is probably why Golem was out there. You don't dare honk or swear at a car that's in your way when a nearly seven-foot Alpha mountain of muscle and icy, hostile Russian expression looms over its roof. In fact, unless you're an idiot, you don't even go near such a car.
With great glee, Dean was the idiot who shoved the phone back into Bart's hand and started running toward the limo. Hell, yeah, he knew he was being an idiot and a child, but... God. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and every muscle in his body quivered with a kind of exhilaration he'd perhaps never felt before as his Omega shifted wildly, whimpering and searching for his Alpha. So did Dean, who slammed the brakes on the limo door and pressed his face against the black glass as he tried to peer inside. His nostrils flared as he tried to catch the slightest whiff of the cherry and almond scent.
"He's not in there, little Omega," a deep, rough voice with a thick Russian accent, accompanied by a strangely soothing Alpha growl and something sweet besides the smell of hot iron and dry dirt, surprised, almost frightened him.
He straightened abruptly, tensing a little as he had to turn his head to see the huge Alpha's face at all. Golem towered over him like a giant rock, intimidating in its sheer size, but its eyes were kind, its lips curled slightly into a smile, and a purr came from its chest.
"Waiting inside," Golem confirmed his wishful thinking.
He ran up the stairs, fought his way through the locked door he'd left open, and burst into Sonny's apartment.
He paused, his hand still on the doorknob, and quickly took stock of the scene before him. His Alpha was here. He was standing in front of the couch, his back to Bart's bedroom door, facing Sonny, who had his chin up and his chest puffed out in Alpha pose. From the way Castiel was straddling him and how broad his shoulders were, it was clear he was returning the favor in kind. Dean inhaled the smells. The air was laced with tea and bitter almonds. It didn't smell like true Alpha rage, but he feared both Alphas weren't far from it.
"Alpha..." he broke the tense silence in the room.
Both Alphas reacted immediately, turning their heads to face him.
Distantly, he noticed the relief flicker across Sonny's face and also noticed the childcare woman hiding behind Sonny as if the Alpha wanted to protect her from Castiel. He didn't pay much attention to her, though. His gaze met a cool blue that instantly filled with warmth, and the tension in Cas' face melted into deep lines at the corners of his eyes.
Castiel turned, and in a single step toward Dean, all the warning he'd been radiating through his stance melted like ice in the sun, and the Alpha's features softened just as the tension in his shoulders relaxed.
"Omega... Dean..."
"Alpha..." he repeated, taking an involuntary step towards him but stopping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Alpha and bury his head in the sweet smell of roasting cherries, only to be stopped by Sonny and especially Mosley. He couldn't do anything that would look inappropriate.
"I told you he was just hanging out," Sonny said.
Dean tore his eyes from the deep blue lagoon and looked over Cas's shoulder at the other Alpha. So this was what it was all about. Of course, knowing his Alpha, he knew exactly when his lessons were over and when he would be home, and he was right on time. And since he was probably already at Sonny's apartment, he might not have had a chance to get a report from his men.
"Yes, that's what you said," Castiel said in a neutral voice, glancing at Sonny and then back at Dean. "Go pack your stuff, Omega. I'm taking you where you belong; to my house."
"I'll be right there, Alpha."
He didn't wait for anything, turned on his heel and ran to his room. He could pack in record time. All he had to do was dump his textbooks out of his backpack and throw in the few clothes he'd gotten here. It wouldn't even take him five minutes.
"Wait, Dean," the Beta woman's voice stopped him.
He paused and looked over his shoulder. And frowned. What was it again?
"Before you go off with Alpha Novak, I want you to sit here and listen to me for a while," Mosley demanded, who had already managed to sit down on the sofa and was now patting the seat at her side.
He glanced at his Alpha, who was watching the Beta with an impassive expression on his face, and gave Dean no indication of what to do, so he moved to the couch but didn't sit down. Not yet.
"I told you a conversation wasn't necessary," the Alpha said without taking his eyes off Mosley.
"He's old enough to understand the situation he's in and therefore has a right to know everything," Beta told him with surprising confidence before turning back to Dean and giving him one of her friendly smiles. "Come sit down, sweetheart."
He didn't look at Alpha this time, it was enough that he didn't protest Beta's request again and sat down in the corner of the couch, letting his backpack fall to the floor.
"Okay, I'm sitting. What do you want to tell me?" He asked impatiently. His Omega shifted impatiently. He didn't want to spend another minute in Sonny's lair, not because it wasn't comfortable or because he didn't feel welcome. On the contrary, Dean's instincts told him that he was safe here. But the idea of Castiel's lair was much more palatable than anything Alpha Sonny could offer here.
Mosley glanced briefly at Castiel, who had merely retreated to the nearest chair and leaned his arm against it, before looking back at Dean.
"There is a law called the Omeza in Distress Act. That law allows..."
"...for an Alpha to take custody of an Omega. I know about this law, and I know that Alpha... Novak used it to take me in. I have no problem with that."
"You probably don't know everything," Beta didn't let the interruption get to her. "The moment the judge agreed to custody, you lost all your rights. You will be placed on a special federal registry where your fingerprints will be entered so that you can be identified in any state, and you will be required to wear a collar with a registered identification device. From this point on, you are not allowed to own anything, so everything you have now, including the clothes you wear, belongs to the Alpha in whose care you are, and any property you might somehow acquire will automatically go to him. Inheritance or Gifts. You may not handle any movable property. This includes money, checks and credit cards. This means you can't buy anything for yourself. Not only expensive things like electronics or cars, but also clothes and food. You must be accompanied or supervised at all times by either your Alpha guardian or someone who has their written permission. You are not allowed to get a driver's license or any other document, government or private, until you are twenty-one, when your case is automatically reviewed. No bus pass, library card, gym pass, or anything else. Since you have not yet completed your compulsory education, the Alpha guardian must allow you to do so, but you are not eligible for further education. Until you are 21, or until the court revokes the guardianship, you may not study at a university, either full-time or correspondence. You can't be legally employed anywhere, either full-time or part-time. You cannot legally earn money in any other way, such as through social media. In fact, you cannot even create a profile on a social networking site because you cannot sign contracts. And unlike foster care, the state has no right to check on your living conditions and whether your Alpha guardian is providing you with everything you need," she paused and looked at the impassive Castiel. "Neither you nor anyone else, including a member of your family, has the right to challenge the Alpha's guardianship, and the State can only revoke guardianship in cases of blatant and gross misconduct on the part of the Alpha guardian. If you run away, you will be returned to the Alpha guardian, and if you repeatedly break the rules or even break the law, you will be removed from your Alpha guardian and automatically placed in juvenile jail until you turn eighteen, and in adult jail from eighteen to twenty-one. And you will have no right to appeal or petition for early release. Do you understand everything I just said, Dean?"
He understood perfectly. The law was a piece of shit that robbed Omega of any life of his own, and he understood that it would be a problem for Omega in any other case, but not in his. So what if he couldn't go to university. He wasn't smart enough for that anyway. He'd been driving without a real license since he was fourteen, and he had no problem continuing to do so. And shopping? Oh, come on... he hadn't heard of this Omega in Distress Act until recently, and he'd never seen a cashier, not even in the backwoods of Texas, check to see who an Omega was and if he was allowed to shop. Obviously, no one knew or cared about that law, and no one will care when he waves Alpha's bottomless credit card. No one will ever find out that he's breaking any laws. And since neither Dean himself nor Cas had a problem with breaking the law, nothing will change for him.
But this Mosley didn't know that, and the look on her face made it look like she thought she was strapping Dean into the electric chair.
"Yeah, I understand everything. Can I go pack now?" He asked impatiently.
Beta exchanged a significant look with Sonny, then nodded.
That was good enough for Dean. He was on his feet in a minute and in his room a moment later. He emptied his books and today's batch of stuffed animals out of his bag and stuffed his clothes into his backpack, including not only the tracksuit he'd been given at the hospital to wear instead of his pajamas, but also those stupid pink Omega pajamas. That was where Alpha Sonny had gone wrong, but Dean hadn't had the heart to tell him or let him know, even now that he was leaving. Sonny was a good guy, he took good care of Timmy and Bart and... Dean, actually. Suddenly, the excitement of leaving with Castiel faded a bit and a pang of regret stabbed him in the chest.
He paused as he stuffed the last of his shirt into his pack and looked around.
His gaze lingered on a pile of pillows and stuffed animals, an empty closet, a set of crayons and pencils, and a notebook. On the first day, he'd taken it all as some kind of taunt or an attempt to force him into the role of a proper Omega, but he'd quickly learned that it wasn't like that at all. Sonny had no experience taking care of Omega children, so he gave Dean what he thought was best for Omega. What would make Omega the most comfortable. And yes, if someone other than Dean had come along, someone more Omega, it probably would have made him happy. Maybe one of the Omegas from Sun Hill... Where did they end up anyway? What about Charlie? How was she doing on the road?
He suddenly realized that he was actually very lucky to have spent these few days here in Sonny's care. And that he didn't have to do anything, at least for a while. Of course, that would change now. He'd have a hungry (and cuddly and horny) Alpha on his hands again, and in time, Sammy, and he'd have to take care of them both. He didn't mind. He'd always done it, he'd taken care of Dad and Sam, so why not Castiel and Sam, but he'd miss the simple life here at Sonny's. Hell, he'd probably miss Sonny and Timmy and Bart a little too, even though he barely knew them.
He shoved the last shirt into his backpack and zipped it up. It was time to go before he stupidly regretted leaving. He had no reason to regret. He was going with his Alpha, to his apartment... to his lair, where he'd be safe and damn comfortable. He'd be able to try out the jacuzzi and all the jets in the shower and stretch out on the big bed or in front of the big TV. And most importantly, he'd be with Castiel. He wasn't missing anything he couldn't begrudge because he was getting so much more.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out.
Everyone was gathered at the door. Castiel was right next to them, his back to the wall, and it was clear that he wanted to get out of the other Alpha's lair as soon as possible. The Beta female was off to the side, behind Sonny's back, and Sonny had his hand on Bart's shoulder while Bart had his arm around Timmy's shoulders. The little Beta stood with his head down, devoid of his usual bubbling energy. Dean didn't fight the slight grunt of his Omega and knelt down in front of the little Beta.
"Hey, puppy. Cheer up!" He said, nipping at his chin.
Timmy blew his stuffy nose and lifted his head a little, only to cast a startled glance over Dean's shoulder at Castiel and lower his eyes again. Dean glanced back. Castiel stood motionless, giving the pup an impassive look, cold blue eyes looking down from a face seemingly devoid of expression, so yes, he could look scary. But what Dean saw, and what wasn't really apparent in Alpha's scent, was the nervousness and tension of the whole situation. In fact, it occurred to Dean, and it almost made him smile, that maybe Castiel was more afraid of the possibility of having to talk to the little puppy than Timmy was of him.
"Here," he said, reaching into one of the pockets of his backpack, where he stuffed a keychain in the shape of a stuffed elephant. "And there are more like it in my room. It's all yours. Okay?" He asked; Timmy just nodded silently and took the elephant from him, clutching it tightly in his hand. "Good pup," he ruffled his hair and stood up to face Bart. "I guess I should wish you well for the future or something..."
"Yeah, you too," Bart, who must have felt just as uncomfortable under the scrutiny of so many adult eyes as Dean, replied, casting a quick glance at Castiel before following Timmy's lead and lowering his eyes to the floor.
Dean stepped in front of Alpha Sonny, not really knowing what to say. Or rather, there was so much, and most of it was pathetic bullshit. Something about how the last few days here at Sonny's dope had been some of the best and most fun times of his life and how he owed Sonny for not being the same dick that Evans was. But he didn't want to say any of that out loud.
In the end, of course, it was Alpha Sonny who resolved his hesitation and embarrassment by raising his hand to offer a handshake. He hesitated only briefly before taking the offered hand and giving it a long, firm squeeze.
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Deana, and like all of my boys, you've taught me a lot, even though you've only been here a short time. I hope you do well in your next life," he glanced in Castiel's direction as well, but like a true Alpha; without nervousness, and when he turned away, he did so slowly, not even hinting at lowering his gaze. "And my door will always be open to you. You can come or call whenever you want. Yes?"
"Yeah, Alpha. I'll remember that, and thank you for letting me stay," at least he didn't have to hesitate to say that part of his thanks out loud. Then he finally let go of Sonny's hand and turned around when something fell and he made eye contact with Alpha again. "In Sun Hill... there was another Omega boy. If you'd change your mind about not taking care of Omegas, you could give him a try."
"I'll think about it." Sonny nodded.
"It's time to go, Omega," Castiel urged, a hint of impatience in his voice, and the door creaked softly as he opened it for Dean.
Dean took one last look not only at Sonny and the guys he'd been living with for the past few days, but also at the small apartment, and walked through the door the Alpha had opened for him.
Chapter 62
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Golem slammed the limo door behind them, separating them not only from the cold autumn weather, but more importantly, from prying eyes. Dean waited for absolutely nothing. He let himself be guided by his Omega's desperate need to be near his Alpha. He let go of the strap of his backpack, letting it slide from his shoulder to the ground, grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his jacket, and pulled him to him with a grunt.
The Alpha responded with the same growl, red flashing in his eyes and a golden fang glinting in his mouth before he buried his fingers in Dean's hair and pressed against his eagerly parted lips.
Dean wrapped his arms tightly around his back and as he buried his face in the comfortable upholstery of the limo, he pulled his Alpha onto him. He let it envelop him. Cover him with warm, strong flesh and an intense scent full of roasted cherries and musk. And he enjoyed the smell of cigarettes and the taste of beer for at least as long as his breath held. Then he broke the kiss, but only to run his lips over the thick, stubbled jaw and bury his nose in Castiel's scent gland that smelled so intoxicating.
Suddenly, there was a subtle clearing of the throat.
Dean pulled sharply away from the Alpha and instinctively bared his teeth at the source of the damned disturbing sound. In the opposite corner of the limo sat a strange man he hadn't noticed before, and now, showing his fangs and growling at him, he immediately threw his hands up, palms up, and let his head drop to show a little of his neck. It calmed Dean down, but still... who the hell was he? He didn't look like one of Castiel's men. He just wasn't the type. He was short, probably shorter than Dean, quite thin, curly haired, wearing an expensive suit, with hands that never seemed to have seen hard work, and overall gave the impression of being... an Omega. As the thought flashed through his mind, his Omega immediately bristled. Another Omega had no business being next to his Alpha! That was the only thought on his Omega's mind. But as he drew in the air, he didn't smell even a hint of Omega scent, only the chemical scent of tropical fruit, equal in intensity to the scent wafting from Pyotr.
Castiel's sigh echoed near his left ear, and at the same moment, the Alpha leaned back in his seat, his arm still around Dean's shoulders.
"Dean...this is Mr. Shurley, my lawyer. Shurley...this is Dean Jankovich Winchester, my Omega Mate."
"It's a great honor to finally meet you, Omega Winchester," he greeted him in exactly the tone he'd imagined his dear lawyer would have, reaching across the limo so they could shake hands.
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too..." he said neutrally, checking the Alpha out of the corner of his eye to see how 'good' Omega was supposed to be, but he didn't get much of a clue. So he decided to speak to the lawyer politely, but as an equal. "I guess I owe you for bringing me back to my Alpha? So thanks."
"I was only doing what my client paid me to do," the lawyer replied politely, leaning back in his seat before turning to Castiel. "I must remind you that you have two days to register your Omega. I can ask for an extension if you want, but it's a maximum of five days."
"No, two days is enough."
"Okay," he nodded. "I asked around about the shops, like you asked me to. I emailed you the list."
Alpha reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his cell phones. Dean looked over his hand and quickly realized that it was the one in English. Castiel opened a plain gmail with a few unread messages, including one he opened that contained a simple list in the body of the email in the form of links. He didn't check any of them, but put the phone back in his pocket and turned to Shurley.
"That's all I need from you today. You can get back to the office. I'll see you tomorrow," he told the lawyer, then reached over to the intercom and pressed the button to speak to the driver, "Stoy zdes', Golem. Shurli khochet vyyti."
The limo slid to the curb and stopped.
"My office is across town."
"Take a cab."
If Shurley was somehow bothered by being dumped by the Alpha, and he probably was, he didn't show it, and of course his scent gave nothing away, smelling like a goddamn perfume shop. Anyway, he put a professional smile on his face and spoke in a perfectly friendly manner as he said goodbye to Castiel and Dean with a handshake. Then the door slammed behind him and the limo started moving again.
The grip on the arm that rested on Dean's shoulders tightened as the Alpha pulled him close, his sniffing nose burrowing into his throat. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. He was vaguely aware that Cas could smell that his scent had faded, but he hoped to chalk it up to the blockers Dean usually wore. He didn't want to talk about the suppressors the Alpha fucker had forced on him, and thus his heat, and of course nothing that had happened in Sun Hill. Not yet. He wasn't naive enough to think that it would never come out. The Alpha would have to be deaf and blind because the Internet was full of it, but... as long as Castiel didn't talk about it, Dean could pretend it never happened.
He dug his fingers into his messy brown hair, and his other hand went under Castiel's jacket and around his waist. Then he tilted his head a little, just enough to press his lips to the skin above Alpha's collar without depriving himself of the pleasurable sensation of a sniffing nose.
He kissed the skin, which smelled of roasted cherries and honey. And the growing musky scent. It was a pleasant, familiar and missed mixture that made his head feel heavy and his thoughts roll lazily, but it also spurred his heart, made him breathless and he could clearly feel the excitement welling up in his groin. Damn, how long had it been since he'd jerked himself off? Damned weeks. And since someone had touched him...
An uncomfortable realization stabbed him. The memory of Evans' hands on his hips and in his hair. And of his suffocatingly foul-smelling arousal, too sweet and too aromatic, filling not only his nose but his mouth as well. It stuck to his tongue like a coating, mixed with the bitter precum, the ghostly weight of hard cock and, of course, the iron taste of blood.
He pulled away sharply, almost out of Castiel's reach, ducking away from his further exploration. And he fixed his gaze on the seat across from him.
The Alpha wasn't going to be completely dismissed. He didn't remove his hand from Dean's shoulders, but he pulled away. Dean hated that. He hated his Alpha pulling away and his Omega whimpering for more contact because she was his primitive self. She wasn't intimidated by those memories and the fact that Dean had fought off a strange Alpha and was back in the arms of his Alpha was all that mattered. In her mind...in Dean's instincts, it was actually the best time for him to bend over and present himself to his Alpha, as if Dean were the prey that Castiel had somehow won over Evans - even though he hadn't actually met him. It was such ridiculous thoughts and feelings that made him clench his hands into fists and inhale angrily through his nose.
Damn it! Why did he have all these stupid thoughts? And why couldn't he just erase the bad memories? Enjoy this moment, to finally be with the person he loved.
Catiel took his chin between her thumb and forefinger and turned him to face him. Bright blue eyes studied his face with that characteristic intensity that always made him feel like the most important and interesting Omega in the world. Like he was wanted and desired. Like he was the center of Castiel's universe, even though he couldn't be.
Under this gaze, and the light touch of his thumb circling his chin, he slowly relaxed until his stupid fear began to fade along with the bad memories. His shoulders, stiff with fear, relaxed, and in addition to closing his eyes with a sigh, he relaxed his neck. His chin rested in Castiel's hand, which relaxed under the weight of Dean's head, allowing him to drop his head down and to the side, exposing his neck in invitation. He gave himself to the Alpha, wordlessly begging to be marked.
He was driven by his instinct to submit and he knew it. And he was sure he could have resisted, but he didn't want to. He was willingly giving himself and when Castiel moved his hand from his chin to his shoulder and pulled off his hoodie and shirt, exposing his scent gland, the only thing running through his head was 'yes, yes...'
"Yes... Alpha... please," escaped him along with a whimpering sound he'd only made once in his life, and that time it was for Castiel.
As soon as wet lips pressed against his bare skin, he tilted his head and exhaled in pleasure. He heard the sound of rough sucking, felt the pinching pain as the mark formed on his skin, and also the flat edge of Castiel's teeth, especially his golden fang, and this time it was even better than the last.
This time he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his scent gland filling with blood under Alpha's care and actually, finally, after a long time, he felt a hint of himself and the aroused Omega.
The sucking lips pulled away too soon for his taste, but the little wet kisses Alpha showered on the freshly renewed mark were nice, too.
"Moy... you're all mine, Din," came his ear.
"Yeah... all yours... Cas..." he agreed, his voice clouded by how fast he was breathing.
He could clearly feel the Alpha smile and then pull away. Dean looked into his eyes, which held that familiar twinkle, made up of a mixture of amusement, a hint of mischief, but mostly hunger. A small smile curled Castiel's kiss-red lips and his hand rested on Dean's crotch. A warm, large palm rested on his half-hard cock. He hadn't even noticed when it happened and didn't really have time to think much as Alpha kneaded through the layers of his arousal and Dean could only manage a sharp gasp.
"I missed you, moy sladkiy," Alpha whispered in his ear as he continued to knead his hard cock firmly but gently through his pants. "I thought about you the whole time you weren't in my arms. I thought about your zolotyye hair, your milky skin and vesnushki... your adorable freckles. I thought about how I'll kiss them all. How you'll be in my bed... "The button on Dean's pants was undone with years of skill and then the zipper squeaked before Castiel's hand plunged into his pants, this time wrapping his slender fingers around Dean's hard cock. "Naked, sweaty, and wet, just for me... Da? You'll be there, won't you, my sweet Omega?" He pulled Dean's cock out of the layers of cloth and began to circle the wet tip with his thumb; Dean just moaned softly and spread his legs wider to give Alpha better access to not only his cock but his ass as well. It was all happening so damn fast again, as it always did when he was with Alpha, but he wasn't going to slow down. He didn't even want to think about Evans for a moment. That was what he wanted. Just to sink into the soft upholstery of the limo and listen to Castiel's captivating voice, thick with excitement and accent, and enjoy the feeling of his ass getting wet and clenching with need. Because with his Alpha, he could.
"From now until forever...every night...stretched out and ready for me. Eager to fill you again and again, moya lyubov'..."
He could imagine. Shit! He imagined it too clearly. And before he realized what he was doing, he grabbed the back of Alpha's head, pulled him close and muffled his moans by sinking his teeth into his shoulder. The orgasm rolled over him quickly, gripping not only his balls but also his ass in a delicious spasm, and Dean clenched his teeth tightly. So tightly that he felt the fabric tearing under their force and was vaguely aware of how much he wanted to bite into Alpha's bare skin. It was a somewhat confusing need. He was an Omega, and Omegas didn't bite Alphas, did they? was the first thing that went through his mind after his thoughts had cleared up a bit, and the next thing he thought was "'Oh shit...'! He looked down at the ridiculously expensive jacket, which had two holes in it from his fangs, and the fabric was torn even where the remaining teeth had bitten into it.
Shit...' he gasped and felt his ears heating up. He wasn't so much worried about the Alpha being angry about the ruined jacket. Not anymore. Hell, he'd been able to smoke in a brand new car with leather upholstery. Apparently he didn't care how expensive things were, he could buy dozens of new ones. But it was embarrassing what he'd done. "I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident..."
The Alpha made a vague sound, just a slight grunt, and pulled away, tilting his head to the side to look at the chewed fabric of his jacket. He didn't look the least bit angry, of course, more surprised and curious, and those were the emotions he saw on the man's face when he turned back to him.
"Were you going to bite me?" He asked in surprise, tilting his head questioningly.
"No!" he refused immediately; hell no, he didn't want to bite him. Maybe. He wasn't sure, and it certainly didn't help his thinking that he was sitting there with his cock out of his pants, so he quickly tucked it back into his briefs and started zipping up his pants. "I was just... um..."
He didn't know what to say.
"You want to mark me like I mark you?" Came the next question, causing him to lift his head sharply from the zipper.
And it wasn't just the actual content of Castiel's words, but the tone in which he said them. Not outrage, more curiosity and maybe... maybe hope. No, probably not. What Alpha would want to be marked by an Omega?
"No! Of course not!" He dismissed scornfully, preferring to focus his gaze on Castiel's crotch. "Now it's my turn..." He reached for his pants, but his fingers were wrapped around his wrists - dude, it was a good thing Alpha had managed to wipe his hands at some point, he really didn't want a sticky hoodie - and his hands were lifted to Castiel's lips.
Alpha slowly kissed each of his fingers. Castiel's eyes were closed as he did so, and a deep growl came from his chest. When he finished, he pressed Dean's hands to chest, covered them with his palms, and looked into Dean's eyes.
"One day, Dorogoy, I want you to bite me," he surprised him with a perfectly calm statement.
"You want me to bite you?" He asked shocked, because what the hell! There weren't many Alphas who wanted to be bitten by an Omega these days. Yeah, okay, Dad had a faded scar on his shoulder from Mom's bite, but that just wasn't common.
"Da." The Alpha nodded deliberately; it was clear he meant it. "I want you to be my husband and my Mate, both before the powers of the world and before the eyes of God. And for the Church to recognize our marriage as valid, I must bite you and you must bite me. So it is written. Until then..." He bared his teeth a little and leaned forward, bringing the scent of cherries, honey, and Alpha excitement into Dean's nose, "I would be honored to wear your mark. If you'd like..."
Dean swallowed. What the Alpha said sounded so ridiculously serious, almost solemn, the way Cas sometimes spoke. And usually those solemn declarations were incredible in their own way, just like the idea that he really wanted Dean to mark him. The funniest thing was that whenever he made such a bizarre statement, he was telling the truth. Maybe it was cultural bullshit. Maybe there was nothing strange about Alphas in Russia walking around with bite marks on their Omegas.
"Yeah... yeah, that's what I want," he said, perhaps a little to his own surprise, but as he said it, his Omega possessiveness growled. He would mark the Alpha as his own, and any Omega who saw the mark would have to expect Dean to show up and slit his throat if he tried to claim him. Because Alpha Castiel was his and his alone.
He licked his lips and growled softly, but clearly possessive. There was a flicker of surprise on Castiel's face at that moment, but it was quickly replaced by wild joy as he bared his own teeth and growled in the same manner as Dean, and began to undo his tie in a quick, almost overzealous manner. Shit. Damn it! Damn... He wasn't just ready to be marked, he wanted it. Everything, his whole posture and his scent, screamed at Dean so loudly that it made his heart race, his gums felt tight and itchy, and his mouth began to fill with saliva as he watched the tie fall to the floor. The Alpha then undid the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled it off his left shoulder along with his jacket, revealing the browned skin of his scent gland, partially covered by a tattoo of the Bratva's military braids. Then he tilted his head slightly to the side, revealing his throat as well. It was an invitation to be marked, but it was also an invitation to bite, and it was a show of confidence.
No, Dean's small Omega fangs weren't as sharp and effective as the Alpha's, but at the moment they were sharp enough and his jaws were strong enough to bite through the Alpha's neck if he wanted to. He certainly wouldn't do as much damage as a strong Alpha bite, but yes, he could definitely kill him. That thought... knowing how deeply this strong and dangerous Alpha trusted him... and that he wanted to belong to Dean... it filled him with pride and a wild wave of love.
He moved eagerly forward. He dug his fingers into Castiel's hair and grabbed his shoulder with his other hand.
He'd never done this before. He'd never marked anyone, and he'd never had the desire to, so he didn't really know what he was doing or what to expect, but... he felt Alpha's shoulder tense under his hand the moment he leaned into his scent gland. For one terrifying moment he thought that maybe Castiel didn't want that, only then Alpha tilted his head so that his chin brushed against Dean's hair and the marking scent began to spread through the limo in intense waves.
Dean pressed his lips to the scent gland and tasted the taste of leather with a hint of sweat and cherries with bitter almonds. It was fucking perfect. He opened his mouth, just lightly clenching the protruding mound of the scent gland between his teeth, and began to milk more of the flavor. He could feel the skin in his mouth heating up as well, the scent gland swelling slightly, but he could also hear the half-surprised, half-pleasured gasp that turned into a familiar growl of satisfaction.
An arm wrapped around his back and a hand landed on the back of his head, and before he knew it, his whole body was being pulled onto Alpha. He gave in willingly, and as he continued to suck enthusiastically at the skin, running his tongue over it, he sank into the limo seat with Cas. He rolled over his chest, reveling in the taste of his skin and the intense mix of their scents, at least until he ran out of breath.
Then, reluctantly, he released Alpha's scent gland and pulled away enough to see his face. His features were relaxed, the lines around his eyes and the corners of his mouth deep, his eyelids drooping lazily, and he was taking slow, deep breaths.
He looked the picture of contentment. A huge cat that had just swallowed a canary and was stretched out in the sun for a nap. He was so damn beautiful.
He wasn't sure how long it was before Castiel finally opened his eyes and a lazy smile appeared on his face.
He ran a hand through Dean's hair and finally placed the palm of his hand on Dean's cheek.
"Interesting..." the Alpha muttered, running his thumb thoughtfully over Dean's cheek.
"What?" He asked, his voice hoarse and a little skippy, he didn't even know why, and licked his lips, swollen from sucking so hard on the Alpha's scent gland.
"I didn't think marking was so pleasant."
Dean blinked in surprise.
"You've never marked anyone?" He asked in surprise. Neither the first time nor now, the Alpha didn't seem to be the least bit unsure of what he was doing, but the truth was, when had he ever been unsure of anything. He was a damn Alpha, wasn't he.
"A few men have worn my mark for a while, but I've never let anyone mark me. You're the first."
My Alpha! Only mine!" his Omega growled possessively, and Dean growled along. He was ridiculously proud of himself for being the first and only one Castiel wanted to belong to. After all, it was almost unbelievable that someone as Alpha, as strong, as deadly, as powerful, would want someone as ordinary as Dean. And yeah, he was just plain against him, that was a fact. Kind of weird, kind of an angry, rude Omega, or as those who wanted to be nice said, a dominating Omega, but he was still just a poor boy from a small town. And Castiel still gave himself to him.
Fuck! Fuck...
He kissed the flushed skin on Cas's shoulder again, continuing his wet kisses down the side of his neck and over the nape of his neck to the groove between his collarbones where the first lines of the black cross were already there. He kissed and flicked his tongue over each black line as he hastily undid the damned little buttons. He would have loved to rip them off, but that would have been another piece of clothing he'd ruined for Alpha today, and dude, he didn't need to be that destructive. It was damn frustrating though, until he could pull away and finally unbutton the white shirt and enjoy the sight of the black trimmed chest. And he was damn glad that Cas wasn't wearing a tank top this time. He wouldn't have had the patience to deal with that annoying piece of fabric. He had to deal with the buckle, the button and the zipper anyway.
He opened Alpha's pants and stopped at the sight of his white boxers.
A rush of panic gripped his stomach and began to choke him. No! Damn it, not that! He couldn't panic. It wasn't like with Evans. His Alpha could be uncompromising when he wanted something, but he never put his cock in Dean's mouth against his will. And even when he agreed to suck him off, he didn't try to push it all the way down his throat or tie a knot in his mouth, even though he wanted both. And his scent, intense cherry and musky, wasn't disgusting like Evans'.
Pushing those silly fears to the back of his mind, he hooked his fingers into his boxers and pants and pulled both down to Castiel's knees, revealing only a half-hard but still respectable cock with the hint of a knot clearly visible at the root. He knew the look. He even knew the cock. He had no reason to be afraid.
He spit into his palm, cupped the warm length of Cas's cock in his hand and ran it slowly up and down several times, smearing not only his saliva over the soft skin, but also the first drops of moisture that began to appear on the hardening cock. Alpha's breathing quickened as he moved his hips to meet Dean's caressing hand, at the same time running the palm up his arm, over his shoulder, to the back of his head, squeezing gently.
It wasn't even remotely similar to when that Knot had roughly grabbed him by the hair, but it still caused another anxious thought to flash through his mind for an uncomfortable second; his Alpha could have done the same thing. Just force his head down and stuff his dick in his mouth until he started choking. No. No, he wouldn't do that.
He took a deep breath for courage and leaned into the haze of the strong musk and cherry scent. A warm, moist tip, tasting a little bitter, rolled over his lips. He opened his mouth and let it slide in, careful not to take more than he could handle. It was less than the last time he'd been with Cas, but he didn't dare take more. No foolish experiments today with what more he could take. To his own shame, he knew he could probably handle everything. He knew he could take a cock up to his throat and get a knot almost past his teeth, but right now he didn't want to think about how he'd learned his limits.
He concentrated on what he was doing. On Alpha's cock in his mouth. On not only sucking, but also using his tongue. And on Castiel's breathing, tinged with a contented purr, and his hand, still resting on the back of Dean's head, but not pushing or pulling. The Alpha was just guiding him gently, squeezing his fingers a little tighter now and then. In a way that Dean could feel, but it didn't really hurt.
"That's it, sladkiy. You're doing it right... you're so beautiful sucking my cock," Alpha praised him huskily.
The words momentarily filled his chest with warm happiness and pride, giving him both enthusiasm and courage. He didn't even flinch when the other hand landed in his hair, so it was pretty clear he wasn't going to be able to pull away easily, and he was only a little nervous when Castiel's breathing quickened. He was close, that much was clear.
Dean increased the suction and looked up to see Cas's face as the Alpha growled throatily and pressed his hips against his mouth. The look on Cas' face at that moment was fucking amazing, and even though his mouth was full of bitter cum, it was also full of the taste of cherry and almond crumble that was so ingrained in his Alpha that he willingly swallowed every last drop. And for a while afterward, he stroked the hard knot that had lodged in his clenched fist.
Castiel's long fingers finally slipped from his hair and that was the signal to release the cock from his mouth, but he didn't pull away. He continued to hold the slowly softening member in his hand, squeezing it lazily as he rested his cheek on Alpha's firm thigh. His fingers returned to his hair, but this time they didn't hold, just worked through it lightly. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the soothing touch that, along with the intoxicating scent of his Alpha, perfectly lulled his Omega and slowly began to lull Dean to sleep as well.
"Din...?" came from above him, half-voiced but amused and a little urgent.
He opened only one eye and cast a sullen glance at the Alpha looking down at him.
"Don't sleep, Omega. We'll be home soon."
Home? Yeah, home. In Alpha's apartment, his lair, where he would now live. Shit, it had completely slipped his mind and now that he remembered it... suddenly it was all too real. He definitely had to get up.
"Right. I'm up now," he said, pulling himself into a sitting position and looking around a bit confused.
Okay... what he had thought was a pleasant taste of cherries had turned into a bit of an aftertaste, and he definitely wouldn't mind a drink. His gaze quickly wandered to the fridge in the back of the limo.
"There's only champagne and beer in there," Castiel read his thoughts as he answered them directly. "Better get some water from the bar over there." He casually gestured to the bar behind Dean's back. "And get me one, too."
Dean threw his legs down - they tingled a little from the way he'd been kneeling on the seat earlier - walked over to the bar and fished out two small bottles of water. When he lifted his head, the Alpha was already seated, just tucking his half-buttoned shirt into his pants.
"Catch."
He tossed the bottle to Cas, who caught it with perfect reliability, and sat back with a satisfied sigh. The cap of the bottle, so small that it was almost lost in his hands - and in Dean's, too, after all - loosened slightly, and Castiel put the neck of the bottle to his lips and, head bowed, began to swallow greedily. His throat bobbed up and down as the sips slid down his throat, and Dean couldn't take his eyes off the scene. And a smile appeared on his face. Hell, yes, he had the most handsome Alpha in the world, no doubt about it.
With a sigh, Castiel dropped the bottle and turned to him. Dean's smile widened, clearly confusing the Alpha as he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side in question.
He said nothing, just moved back to his Alpha, leaned against his hip, and finally took a sip.
Notes:
The mating bite, or mating saliva, changes the composition of certain hormones produced by the scent gland. The bitten Omega becomes "addicted" to the pheromones of the Alpha that bit him/her. If he/she is not around the pheromones he/she needs for a long time, withdrawal symptoms occur in the form of anxiety, depression, loss of appetite, headaches, and other unpleasant symptoms. For happy couples, especially those who had a strong scent bond before mating, withdrawal symptoms can be severe and, in rare cases, life-threatening. In all circumstances, however, these symptoms will eventually disappear and the biochemistry of the bitten Omega will change back.
The same thing happens to Alphas when they're bitten by an Omega. And since Alphas have been in leadership roles for most of human history - at least European and then American history - Alpha's dependence on Omega pheromones has been seen as undesirable. If an Omega bite was not explicitly forbidden, it was considered shameful.
Biologically, mutual biting is normal and healthy, but still not widely practiced.Mutual skin marking without biting is actually much more common than Dean realizes. For alphas who allow their omegas to mark them, it provides a sense of belonging without the "embarrassment" of biting and the risk of omega dependency. This is why, for example, such marking was highly recommended in the Victorian era.
...
Buy me a Ko-fi
Chapter 63
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Alpha's arm was around Dean's shoulders, his fingers involuntarily circling his shoulder while he tapped something on his phone with the thumb of his other hand, frowning slightly. Dean looked at the screen. It was the other phone, the Russian one, and because he recognized the design of the River chat app on the screen, he knew that Castiel was probably talking to one of his men. He didn't want to disturb him, so he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and text Sammy where he was, but just then the limo swerved and began to descend into the underground garage, and Cas immediately looked up and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
Dean let go of the phone, rose from the comfortable semi-reclining position he was curled up in under Cas's arm, and reached for his backpack. He pulled his belongings onto his lap, gripping the strap nervously as he glanced at Alpha, who picked up his tie from the floor and casually tossed it around his neck. He looked and acted confident, and his scent of roasted cherries and honey was thick and calm. He was obviously not worried about Dean moving into his lair.
Yeah, he wished he could say the same about himself.
Living with Alpha in his apartment was a dream come true. Not just in the sense that he could be with Castiel, but... dude, it was an upscale New York apartment for rich people with all the shit that went with it, like great air conditioning with an air purifier, in-floor heating, a Jacuzzi tub and jets in the shower, huge balconies, a stainless steel kitchen, a TV you could sleep on... um, maybe there was a central vacuum. Anyone would want to live in a place like that. But that just raised a lot of questions for Dean.
He could handle a household... well, more or less. He wasn't exactly a chef, and he didn't luxuriate every day, there were also the occasional dirty clothes left on the chairs, but generally speaking, he could keep a household running. He also added mousetraps and roach spray to the shopping list to keep the motels, hostels, and cheap rentals where they mostly lived safe for the puppy.
And that's what it was all about.
He could cook a meal with just a kettle and a microwave with a leaky cord. He could fix anything from a dented door to a squeaky bed to a dripping bathroom drain with duct tape. And in the laundry room, with a quick glance, he could pick out the washing machine that was the cleanest and least likely to eat your pennies and your clothes. He could do all that, but he didn't know what the hell to do with an apartment the size of ten average motel rooms. It would take him hours just to vacuum. And where was Alpha's washing machine? Somehow he doubted the office building had a laundry room, but maybe some of the rooms he hadn't seen yet were laundry rooms? Winchester, you idiot! The expensive jackets Alpha wears don't go in the washing machine like jeans from a yard sale. They're cleanable. Besides, rich people don't usually clean their own houses, so... did Alpha have a cleaning lady? Yeah, I guess it was possible. That meant no cleaning, but what about food? He'd only been to Castiel's lair twice, and both times the fridge had been stocked with beer and frozen ready meals, which... was actually pretty good. A trained monkey could put a frozen pizza in the oven.
Suddenly he stopped.
Oh, shit! What was he thinking? Sure, he knew he had to take care of Cas and Sam, he always did, but now he was thinking like some damn domestic Omega who did nothing in her life but cook, wash, clean, waddle around the apartment with a belly full of puppies and try to make the lair look as good as possible. He hated that kind of Omega. He didn't want to be that kind of Omega. So why did he think that way, and why did his Omega like that reasoning so much?
"... Dean?" Cas's voice, but more importantly the hand gripping his knee, interrupted his train of thought.
"What?" He blurted out in surprise and turned to Case, who was watching him with a slight tilt of his head.
"I said we're home," the Alpha replied, his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. "Is everything okay?"
"'Yep, everything's fine," he replied in a light-hearted tone, conjuring up a learned, easy smile as he nodded toward the open door of the limousine. "Shall we...?" He delivered it half as a question, turning away and sliding across the seat toward the door.
Castiel caught his arm, causing him to turn his head back to him. The Alpha took advantage of that to cup his chin between his fingers and lift his face a little. The blue eyes were filled with a warmth that Dean knew was his alone, or at least he hoped it was.
"No one is going to keep us apart anymore, you understand?" He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Dean's parted lips. "And no one will ever hurt you again. You're mine, and I won't let anyone touch you," he promised in a serious voice, amplified by the deep, protective growl that echoed through Castiel's chest.
"Yes, I know that, Alpha. I know," he assured him, which was true, removing his hand from his chin, but only so he could lean in and kiss him. "Now, come on," he urged, giving his hand a little tug to push him along.
He got out of the limo first and looked around quickly.
The parking lot hadn't changed, of course, but this time it was half empty. No wonder, it must have been after five o'clock and some of the people who worked in the building had probably already gone home.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped aside just enough to give Alpha space to get out. And he waited until a warm arm was wrapped around his shoulders before making his way to the familiar pair of elevator doors next to the door to the stairwell.
They were lucky, one of the elevators was in the garage, so they were quickly on their way up and moments later at Castiel's door. A quick beep of the card and punching in the code, and Dean was greeted by the familiar scent of Alpha's lair. He let Castiel in first, partly out of respect, but mostly because he knew Castiel would go to the cross opposite the door to bow to Jesus (that's the right way to say it, right?). So Dean had enough room to comfortably take off his shoes, change into those ridiculous Indian-embroidered slippers that had somehow become his own, hang up his jacket, and grab his backpack again. Then he turned to Alpha, who was also taking off his shoes.
"Okay... my stomach thinks it's time for dinner. Shall we order a pizza?" He suggested again casually, or at least as casually as he could. There was a knot of nervousness in his stomach about the whole situation, which was in direct contrast to what his Omega was feeling. The latter was spinning contentedly because she was where she thought she belonged; in Castiel's lair. The perfect place to live and produce litters of puppies. God, it was still so ridiculous, but no longer unwelcome.
"Sounds good," Cas agreed as he pulled the pack and lighter out of his pocket. "There's your new phone on the desk," he nodded vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. "Find a pizza place. I'll be back in a minute," he added, but by then his back was to Dean and he was heading for the bedroom.
He sat down at the kitchen table, where another new iPhone was waiting for him. Always the same model. What was Alpha doing with this Apple anyway? Castiel himself had two of the same Samsung. Dean would have been perfectly happy with the phone he'd gotten from Sonny. Well, not exactly the same, but a similar type. And while he was on Sonny's phone... he forgot to return it. There wasn't much he could do about it, he couldn't just go back to Sonny's house and give it to him. But he had to get rid of it. It wasn't good to have untested electronics in Castiel's lair. In fact, he shouldn't have brought the phone here in the first place.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, pausing at the sight of the screen. Sure, there was a Snapchat message from Sam, but there was also a message from Sonny. He slid his thumb across the screen to open the message, but then hesitated and looked in the direction Cas had gone. The bedroom door was open, but he couldn't see or hear Alpha through it. He must be in the closet or maybe the bathroom.
He looked at the message again and opened it after a short hesitation.
Sonny: Call me when you get to Alpha's house. I want to know you're okay.
He wasn't Sonny's concern anymore, that was clear, so the Alpha didn't have to worry about him. He could just forget, but he didn't. Besides the stupid pang of longing, he also felt a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He was glad that Sonny had written him, but... He couldn't shake the knowledge that it could be dangerous for Alpha Sonny. Castiel didn't seem to like Sonny, and there was no need to remember how the last Alpha who had been around Dean had ended up. So he should stay away from Sonny for his own safety, he knew that, but he found himself taking a new iPhone out of its box and typing Sonny's contact information into it. He hadn't planned on texting him back, but having his number might come in handy someday.
He left his new phone on the table and walked over to the nearest door to the balcony.
He opened it carefully. His face was hit by the outside air, which wasn't just cold, it was icy because of the altitude and blew a little faster than the street below.
He planted his foot on the pavement of the balcony, his hand gripping the door tightly, and leaned out cautiously. He hoped he could see over the edge of the balcony and know how far he had to swing to get over the railing, but the balcony was so damn big he couldn't see over the edge. He'd have to climb out, willy-nilly. Fuck it! He really hated heights.
He took a deep breath and walked with a slow, shuffling step to the middle of the balcony. He really couldn't go any further. Then he craned his neck, looked over the edge, and was surprised to find that he wasn't looking from the top of the building all the way down to the street, but up to the roof, which was about two stories below him. Well, yes! This apartment and the club below were just an extension of the roof! And probably a few decades younger than the whole building. Why hadn't he figured that out before? Yes, Blue Sky and Castiel's apartment was big, but not as big as the whole floor of the building.
He relaxed with a sigh. Two floors wasn't that big and should be enough to break a cell phone. Without much ado, he walked over to the railing, which actually had a pretty nice and mostly safe view of the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, swung, and threw the cell phone as far away as he could. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear it land over the roar of the wind, but it certainly couldn't disappear into thin air, so Dean returned to his apartment, satisfied.
He sat down at his desk again and began to search the maps for nearby pizza places. There were plenty of choices and prices. But he figured he didn't have to worry about money like he used to, so he picked one of the pizzerias at random and looked at the menu. He would have something with a good amount of chili pepper and salami.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alpha walking by and went straight to the fridge.
"I got rid of the phone Alpha Sonny gave me. I threw it off the balcony."
Castiel, who had just opened the fridge, shot him a questioning look over his shoulder.
"I have had a lot of use in the last few weeks. The last one you gave me burned up, and I had to destroy the one before that. Maybe you should get me something cheaper than an iPhone." He held up the phone he was holding.
"Whatever. They're just phones. I get a new one at least once a month," the Alpha replied on his way to the table. He brought two bottles of beer with him and when he sat down, he opened them both and placed one in front of Dean while he took a sip from the other.
"Yeah, that's possible, but they're not expensive toys like iPhones," he countered, taking the bottle and taking a sip as well. The beer was really good, damn good. Spicy and smoky, definitely not American, but good. Although, after weeks of not having a sip, he'd probably like anything. Hell, he didn't even know how much he missed beer.
"I thought Apple was the most popular brand in America. Everyone wants an iPhone," Alpha pointed out, tilting his head to the side in a typical gesture of confusion.
"Well, yeah... I'm not everyone. A Samsung would be cool too."
"Okay. You pick your own next phone," he said, a little ridiculously serious, nodding the neck of the bottle toward the phone in Dean's hands. "You got your choice?"
"Salami and chili pepper, extra portion of pepper. What about you?"
"I'll have one too."
"So two extra large...?" He let it trail off, half-questioning at the end, which was answered with a slight nod. "Two extra large salami with pepper coming up!"
He didn't hesitate too long and added a portion of cheese and salami to the pepper. A real meal, for real men, with an estimated delivery time of thirty-eight minutes. That was a little longer than he had expected, but at least they had time for... he didn't really know what.
He put the phone down on the table, wrapped his fingers around the dewy beer bottle, and looked over at Alpha, who was sitting on the other side of the table. He looked calm and relaxed, leaning back in his chair, his elbow resting on the back of the chair, his own bottle in his other hand. Blue eyes watched Dean with their usual intensity from under squinted lids. And there was no hint of what the Alpha had planned next, if anything.
Dean lowered his eyes to the beer label and made a futile attempt to read it, then his gaze wandered around the kitchen and finally looked out the window. Damn. The nervousness was literally eating away at his socks, and he thought he should probably say something, but he didn't know what. And so the silence stretched and stretched into endless minutes...
"Aah!" Alpha breathed contentedly, putting down the obviously empty bottle at the same time; Dean quickly turned his gaze to him. "I guess we got a few minutes, so... I should show you around. You haven't seen most of the place yet."
"Yeah... sure... uh, that sounds good."
"Come on then," Alpha urged him, already on his feet and on his way to the front door.
Dean took another quick drink, a nice big gulp of the bitter stuff, and caught up with Castiel, who was still down by the door.
"The door has a lock that opens with a card," he offered Dean the plain black card he had of himself, waiting for him to take it before continuing, "and a code that I change every week. I use the full birth dates of famous Russian personalities to help me remember. The numbers are arranged in the European format: day, month and year. Not the nonsensical American format. Yes?"
"Right."
"This week it's the famous Russian painter from the second half of the nineteenth century, Vasily Grigoryevich Perov. Zero one, zero two..."
"...eighteen, thirty-eight," he finished for him.
Castiel gave him a look of genuine surprise.
"You know the Russian realists?"
"Eeee... no... but I saw you punch in the code a few minutes ago, and I have a pretty good memory for numbers."
"Good. You'll need it. Now try the door."
He gave Alpha a look that said he wasn't an idiot and didn't need to try to open the door, but the flat expression and impassive look Alpha gave him made it clear that they were going to stand there all night until he did as he was told.
He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He slid the card through the slot, waited for the confirmation beep, and quickly punched in the appropriate code. The locks clicked, the signal for him to take the handle and open into the hallway, where the lights immediately came on.
"See? Easy."
He closed the door again, the locks clicking into place, and Alpha walked past him and back up the stairs to the main room.
"This is the second bedroom," he said as he opened the first door.
Dean looked inside. It was smaller than Castiel's, but still quite large. The balcony was not on the right side, but opposite the door, and there was a bed on the right side, as well as a pair of doors to the bathroom and closet. There wasn't a single piece of furniture other than the bed with pillows covered in silvery gray and black covers and the bedside tables. It was an order of magnitude more impersonal than Castiel's bedroom, but at least Sammy could make it his own. Computers, posters, maybe a library... yes, definitely a library. Cas wouldn't mind, considering his own library was huge, and it was one of the few personal things Dean had seen in the apartment so far.
"There's an empty room next door," Cas interrupted his thoughts.
He turned to him in surprise.
"Like... you don't use it for anything?"
"Da," was his curt reply as he went to open the next door in the sequence.
Dean took a last look at Sam's future room and quickly caught up with him.
The next room must have been bigger than the main bedroom, or at least it seemed that way, because it was really empty, as in completely and utterly empty. There was just a carpet, two bare walls, and two glass walls with a balcony behind them. And on that balcony was what definitely looked like an outdoor hot tub. Who had an entire room in their apartment that they didn't use for anything? And it was clear that Cas didn't use it, especially from the smell. There was a faint smell of laundry detergent and some of the carpet and upholstery cleaner in the bedroom he'd shown him earlier, which was also present in this empty room, but otherwise the smell of newness lingered. Not only was this room unused, but no one came into it.
"Well... um... what should this room be used for?" He asked, because on the one hand, it was strange to have an empty room, but on the other hand, he somehow understood it. After all, there were already two bedrooms, a living room with a kitchen, and if the last door didn't hide another empty room, but a study, as he assumed, then the apartment really had everything it needed. The only thing that might have been useful would have been more children's rooms, but a puppy couldn't be kept in a huge room with glass walls. He vividly remembered a time when Sammy was learning to walk and was able to go into literally every storefront he passed. He just didn't understand what glass was.
"The previous owner had a bedroom in here, but it's too... exposed for me," he pointed to the glass walls. "You can make it whatever you want, moy sladkiy," the Alpha growled in his ear, wrapping his arms around his waist; Dean automatically placed his palm on the back of the hand he had wrapped around his stomach and frowned thoughtfully.
This was exactly one of the problems that bothered him. Yeah, he could furnish the whole room the way he wanted, which was fine (once he got over his dismay at the amount of money it would take to furnish such a large room), but how would he furnish it? It was too... exposed for an armory. Too dangerous for a gym with all that glass.
An amused grin crept across his face.
He could decorate this place like the reception lounge of a real Mafia Omega hubby. All leopard fur, suede and leather couches, mahogany coffee tables, a big glass chandelier and tacky lamps with golden lion paws for bases. Yeah, that was it. And then he'd invite the wives and mistresses of Castiel's Lieutenants, and they'd drink horrible champagne and talk about what Gutchi handbag they bought. Just like in the Italian mafia movies. There was just one little problem...
" So... are your guys married or something?" he asked this important question to his Alpha, who rested his chin on his shoulder.
Confusion flashed in his blue eyes.
"Married?" Castiel repeated, and then it was clear from the deepening lines on his forehead that he was thinking. "I know Pyotr has only one sister and two nephews. Vladko is mated. Oleg... hmm, I don't know if he has anyone, to be honest. I see a lot of women in his company, but that doesn't mean anything. Some of the others...? Yes, they have wives or girlfriends, some of them have kids. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. I just wondered if I was the only... you know... lover of a mobster," he finished, which sounded ridiculous, especially when he said it out loud, but hey! It was totally true.
"You're not the only one," Castiel confirmed for him. "As I said, our Brotherhood doesn't insist so strictly on the old Vor code. My men are allowed to have not only lovers, but wives and children, but they do so at their own peril, for their families do not have the luxury of the protection of the entire Brotherhood, as you do. Their loved ones can be targeted by our competitors at any time, and the only one who will protect them is the man himself. And, of course, they will suffer the consequences if their husband and father betray the Brotherhood."
"As I would wear it." It was not a question, it was a statement.
"Da, but you need not fear. I am always loyal to the Bratva. It runs in my blood and is engraved in my heart. Bratva... and you... that is my destiny," he added, pressing his moist lips to the sensitive spot behind Dean's ear.
He couldn't help lowering his chin to his chest with a lustful exhale. And his Omega grunted contentedly, for unlike Dean, she didn't understand the deeper message of Castiel's words, which came through in the tone he used when he spoke of the Bratva. With a passion and devotion eerily similar to the way he whispered words of praise and tenderness in Dean's ear. So it was no coincidence that he placed the Bratva on the same level as Dean, his Mate, and perhaps even higher.
He decided not to think about it any further, because it was one of those things he had to accept. The fact that Castiel loved his job. And he pulled away a little to get away from the distracting lips that kept pressing against the skin behind his ear.
"And what's behind door number three?"
Castiel drew back with an annoyed grunt.
"My office," he replied as if that said it all, then hesitated briefly. "You want to see it?"
"If you let me see it..." He looked at Alpha a little coquettishly through his lashes. Actually, he wanted to see his office. Purely out of curiosity. He wanted to see if it was as austere as the rest of the apartment or if there were finally more personal things in it and how much time Alpha actually spent there. After all, what could a mafia boss do in an office? Not accounting, I guess... or was it?
"You can take a look, but I don't want you to go in there without me," he agreed, letting go of Dean only to put a hand on the back of his head as he led him to the last door.
The sliding door rustled softly, revealing a room behind it that was different from the others.
The first thing that caught Dean's attention, and indeed drew him into the room, was the intense cherry-almond scent, accented by the smell of cigarettes and what he was pretty sure was the smell of cigars. It was even stronger than on the sofa in front of the TV, but that could have been because the room was closed and even though the air conditioning was obviously on full blast, Castiel's scent was trapped in the room.
The next thing he noticed was the size of the room. At first glance, he could see that the room was too small. Well, not really small, but smaller than he had expected. The proportions didn't fit. He had the size of Castiel's bedroom and bathroom and closet in his head, and he was sure he was missing at least twenty feet in this office, maybe even a foot and a half. Partly to get to the bottom of the discrepancy, he slowly made his way along the wall adjoining the main room next door, mentally counting the steps as he passed an antique suite of armchairs and a sofa and an antique coffee table. All the way to the glass door to the balcony. Then along it to the wall, against which another sofa was pushed. He walked along it, pausing for a moment at a painting of a landscape. There was a field in the foreground and a piece of forest and some houses in the background. It must have been a valuable painting, because it was hung in a glass case, like they used to have in the museum. But Dean thought it was quite ordinary and similar to dozens of paintings he had seen in pawn shops and junk shops where he went to sell stolen items. But... yeah, he wasn't exactly an expert on paintings and statues. It just never did anything for him.
"Arkady Alexandrovich Plastov," Castiel informed him, "like Perov, he's a Russian realist. He's not well known to the public, but in art circles this painting is worth about eighty thousand. It was a good investment."
Eighty thousand for a painting of a field, a couple of houses and a patch of forest? Art collectors were really strange.
"I don't know art. I only know the really famous painters, you know? Monet, Da Vinci, Picasso, stuff like that." He shrugged and walked over to a large desk and leather chair, which had a great view through a glass wall. To the right of whoever was sitting at the desk, the corner Dean was heading for, was a corner table with a corner cabinet on top of it. An antique, carved, dark lacquered wooden one, which caught his eye mainly because of the decoration on its top, which looked a bit like the dome of a church, mainly because there was a carved cross. It must have been another of the things that belonged to Castiel's religion.
He stopped in front of the cabinet and involuntarily raised his hand to touch it.
"This is my... Krasnyy ugol. A place for prayer," Alpha's voice surprised him, coming from right behind him.
He jumped a little, and not only did he quickly jerk his hand away, but he also stepped aside, and before he even realized what he was doing, he instinctively lowered his head in submission, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Alpha. I didn't mean to touch it," he apologized immediately, without hesitation. Such things simply shouldn't be touched without permission, or at least he didn't think they should be touched.
"It's okay, Omega," the Alpha replied in a soft voice, taking his chin and lifting his face. The blue eyes were calm and warm, without anger, and Castiel's scent was sweet. "It's not forbidden to touch...kiot, you just have to do it with reverence and respect," he instructed, then released Dean's chin and crossed himself before opening the cabinet.
It turned out not to be a cabinet per se, but rather an altar with pictures like he'd seen in some of the churches he and his dad had visited on the anniversary of his mother's death. He just never realized that they could be closed. In the center was a bearded Jesus, similar to the one on the front door, with the Virgin Mary and baby in her arms on the left, and another bearded man on the right. Around the picture of Jesus was a white cloth with gold embroidery, and on the shelf below were more pictures of people in various robes, mostly bearded men, but also a few women. And a small, ornate golden candlestick holding a single candle with a slightly browned wick.
"Our Saviour, the Mother of God and Saint Nikolai, patron of travellers, prisoners and orphans. And here this..." He carefully removed one of the smaller pictures, crossed himself over it and kissed the frame before showing it to Dean. The picture was of a woman in a red and blue robe, one hand holding the same cross the Alpha wore around his neck and the other holding some sort of pitcher. The background behind her was yellow, but still had a halo painted in gold. "This is Mary Magdalene. She was the Omega and Savior Tru Mate, sent by the Lord to follow in His footsteps until the moment of His Resurrection. She is the Patroness of all Omegas. I placed her on the altar when I met you," he explained, returning the image to its place with equal reverence and care. "I turn to her in my prayers and ask her to guide you and protect you from all evil."
Dean watched the care with which the Alpha adjusted the image and then crossed himself again, his lips moving in what must have been a brief prayer. It was so strange. The way his strong, proud Alpha kept his head humbly bowed, and how reverently he treated all these pictures that, to be perfectly honest with Dean, meant nothing to him. He felt no special awe when he looked at them. For example, he knew that you didn't touch the pictures and crosses in the church, and as their Alpha father had once told him very pointedly, all expensive things in the church, including the collection plate, were simply taboo. You don't steal it, even if it's not for food. Still, when he looked at the pictures of the saints, he saw nothing but the likenesses of people who were long dead.
But he could see that it meant a lot to his Alpha, and even if he didn't understand it, he respected it. He just didn't know what to say. Should he thank Cas for praying for him? It seemed so stupid. Luckily, it didn't look like he was expecting a reaction, because without looking at Dean, he crossed himself and touched each of the main images three times before closing the altar.
"I don't expect you to automatically share my religion," he turned to him; so he noticed Dean's hesitation after all. "Religion can't be forced, you have to accept it willingly, but... to get married in the church, you have to convert to Orthodoxy. When the time comes..."
He knew what it meant to convert. It meant to change faith, the problem was...
"I don't do these things... I mean, I don't pray, I don't go to church and stuff like that."
"I know that, but you're baptized as an evangelical. I found the church whose congregation you belong to, and even the same priest who baptized you works there. You may not practice the religion, but the baptism cannot be renounced. Your soul has already accepted God, conversion is more a matter of... secular administration. But don't worry about that now, lyubov' moya," he added softly, lightly supporting Dean's chin with the edge of his index finger and running his thumb over his chin, leaning in closer so that the sweet scent of the happy Alpha surrounded Dean. "Now your job is just to be happy, da? Set up this empty lair for us and build a nest... That's what's important right now. We'll talk about other later. The future and stuff." He leaned forward and pressed warm lips to Dean's forehead.
With a small sigh, he lowered his head, relaxing and without hesitation, not only showing his submission - it felt good to submit to his Alpha - but also giving Castiel a chance to scent him. He could feel his Alpha's chin and jaw brushing against his hair, and the scent of the marking pheromones tickling his nose. His inner Omega grunted in agreement. Yes, this was what he wanted and needed. To belong to the Alpha.
Castiel stepped back and Dean looked up. Their eyes met and there was that intense glow in the blue, warm lagoon again, as if the Alpha could look into his mind and see how much he enjoyed being an Omega. Suddenly, he felt not only embarrassment, but something like a stab of anger and fear. He was giving in to Castiel too much and enjoying it too much. On some level, in some way, he knew that was okay. He'd chosen Castiel as his Alpha, had willingly chosen to surrender to him, even Sonny had said it was okay, but still, something told him he should resist. Resist his stupid Omega instincts, because they served no other purpose than to bring him nothing but trouble in life. But he didn't want Cas to somehow pick up on his thoughts or smell the sour and bitter scent in his scent, so he quickly averted his gaze and pulled away from the Alpha's gentle touch, only to take a few steps back and change the subject entirely.
"This room is too small."
"Small?" Alpha asked, surprised but amused. "Small for you? You really do have unsatisfactorily high standards. Should I be worried?"
Of course, the double entendre didn't escape him, and as much as he didn't want to, he felt his ears perk up. Frowning, he turned to Alpha, but at the same time he couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from twitching with amusement.
"Hey, that's not what I meant, okay?" He bared his teeth a little in a playful snarl. "I didn't mean it was really small. You don't have anything small," he returned his double entendre, proudly enjoying the smile on Alpha's face and the sparkle in his eyes. "It's just that if you include the air conditioning and the wiring, this room is at least four, maybe five feet short."
"Really...?" Cas asked, acting as if he didn't know anything about such a thing, which Dean found highly unlikely.
"Yeah, really. I have a pretty good guess, and like I said, I'm good with numbers. So..." He walked back over to him and raised his eyebrows significantly, "where's your safe hidden in here?"
There was a long moment as Castiel measured him with an intense stare, then a chuckle escaped his lips, which quickly turned into a snarl as the Alpha bared his teeth, and before Dean knew it, Cas had pulled him close. As well as amusement, there was a hint of red in his eyes, which intensified before he grabbed the back of Dean's head, tilted his head roughly and kissed him eagerly.
Dean was a little surprised at the violent reaction to such a simple request, but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around his waist and neck, enjoying the passion with which the Alpha kissed him. When he finally pulled away, he was half out of breath.
"Don't I have the most observant and clever Omega in the world...?" Cas huffed, a little amused, but mostly with a genuine pride that carried over into his scent, like another hint of contented sweetness, and into his voice, like a deep growl that punctuated his every word.
A warm feeling of pride at being praised by Alpha flooded his entire body, bringing with it a little more embarrassment, which he dispelled, as always, with a joke.
"It's not cleverness, it's a thief's temper." He dangled his thieving fingers in front of Alpha's face.
Castiel grunted, grabbed his hand, and took a quick bite of his index finger. Dean yelped in surprise as blunt teeth sank into his skin and a warm, wet tongue licked the belly of his finger.
"Hey! I need that finger!I'm pulling the trigger with it!" He shouted, hurt, with a laugh and a happy growl.
The purr the Alpha gave in response came from deep in his chest. He could feel it under his hand, like a vibration. Then Cas pulled his fingers from his mouth and brought their joined hands to his chest.
"In that case, I have no choice but to give it to you back," he agreed, seemingly reluctantly but still cheerfully, then thought a bit before continuing, "And you're right. This room is missing a few feet."
"Yes! I knew it! So where's the safe?" he asked again, glancing behind him to the wall that bordered the adjoining closet and bathroom. There was nothing on it. It was white and perfectly flat, which confused him. No one could hide a safe that well. If the painting was hanging there, he was sure it was underneath...
"Come with me," Castiel urged him before letting go and walking out of the room.
Dean followed him and quickly pictured the main room in his mind. There was a kitchen, where the den and the bathroom and the closet adjoined. There definitely couldn't be a safe in there. It couldn't be in the bathroom either, because it would have to be in the wall of that huge shower or somewhere behind the corner tub - that was bullshit. In general, a safe in the bathroom was bullshit. The only other room that came into consideration was the closet. He hadn't noticed anything the first time he'd been in there, but he hadn't had enough time to explore it thoroughly.
Castiel headed straight for the bedroom, Dean still grabbing his phone from the table to make sure he hadn't missed the call from the courier, and he reached the bedroom just as the Alpha was disappearing into the closet. He quickly caught up with him and found him standing just outside the door.
"This isn't just a closet, it's a panic room," Alpha began flipping off the light switch just inside the door to reveal the panel underneath - suddenly the presence of switches in a room where the lights turned on by themselves made sense. In addition to the small screen and keypad panel, there was an unusually large button, obviously used to quickly activate security.
"Three inches of steel, twelve latch system, locking speed is less than a minute...watch your hands, if you put them between the frames they'll be crushed...its own ventilation and lighting system powered by a steel protected battery. The door can only be opened from the inside by entering a code, of course. There are no food or water supplies, so..."
"Wait! Wait!"
"Chto?" asked Alpha, obviously impatient and a little irritated at being interrupted.
"You have a panic room?"
Cas cocked his head to the side and frowned, a little confused but mostly annoyed.
"Da. We're standing in it right now. Aren't you even listening to me?"
"Yeah, of course I'm listening to you, that's... um, why do you have a panic room?"
"I think that's obvious," he replied, to which Dean merely raised an eyebrow. Castiel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I thought you had it all figured out by now, Dean. I'm a powerful man, and that means I'm in a lot of danger. There are many who would like to kill me. Mostly our competitors, but I bet not a few cops would hesitate to put a bullet in my head if they found out who I am. And you, as my Mate, are in as much danger as I am. In fact, you're in even more danger than before, because until now I was able to keep you partially hidden, but from now on that won't be possible. I'm protecting myself and you. That's why I have this panic room or bulletproof glass all over the place.
Bulletproof glass? Half the damn place was made of glass. If it was all bulletproof, it must have cost like... hundreds of thousands or something. He didn't really know how much bulletproof glass cost, but it certainly wasn't cheap. And he really didn't understand why it was here at all, considering...
"We're on the... I don't know, the fiftieth floor. Where would anyone shoot at us from?"
"You've never heard of helicopters and drones?"
"Don't kid me... are you telling me that one of your competitors could shoot at you from a helicopter?"
"I've been shot at from a helicopter," Cas replied like it was nothing "Someday I'll tell you about my experience in Libya, but right now we have more important things to discuss..."
Again, Dean didn't interrupt him, because what the hell? It had never occurred to him that the Alpha could live or even be somewhere other than Russia and America, and of course it had never occurred to him that they could shoot at him from a goddamn helicopter. Somehow he had never imagined that anyone could shoot at him. Yes, he knew Alpha's business was dangerous, he'd seen all the Godfathers about ten times. And sometimes he'd joked in his head about how dangerous Castiel's job was, but only now was he beginning to realize it. And it wasn't a pleasant feeling to realize that his Alpha could actually die at any moment.
"Khorosho... Gde ya okazalsya?" Alpha said something thoughtful. "Oh yes, I already know... there are no supplies here, that's why you can only hide here for three days at the most, but the system automatically informs me and some of my most trusted men that the room has been used. And besides, there's this..." he let the sound fade into nothingness and walked to the back of the closet, right next to the large jewelry box. Cas lightly latched onto the jewelry box and pushed it aside. From the soft creaking, it was clear that it had wheels, so it was easy to push aside.
With the jewelry box and mirror gone, there was no mistaking the button panel, the gap in the wall, and the hinges on two sides. Safe. And quite large. Starting somewhere around Dean's ankles and ending at about eye level, it was almost exactly as wide as the mirror on the jewelry box.
The Alpha punched in the code, there was a beep and then the click of the locks, then he took the indentations that served as handles and swung the double doors of the vault apart.
Light illuminated the contents and Dean's breath caught.
"Shit..." he exhaled raggedly.
This was no safe, this was a small weapons room. Guns were neatly hung on the walls and doors, and boxes of bullets and accessories, including a magazine belt, were stacked on shelves. There was enough to shoot your way out of the apartment even if it was fully occupied by thirty people. And in the middle of it all was a fucking Kalashnikov. Yeah, yeah, it was a cliché for a Russian, but fuck it! It was an AK-203! A real assault and military rifle. Yeah, he'd seen a few of them. They could be seen at Army training and recruiting events, shooting competitions, and Dad and Bobby's buddies had one (it was obvious that there was no talk of where they got it, because they sure as hell weren't going to the nearest pawn shop to get it). But he never had a chance to hold one. They all thought big guns didn't belong in the hands of Omegas, and Dad thought he was too young and inexperienced to learn how to use one. And just holding one...only models in magazines did that, it wasn't for men.
"It's an AK-203." He turned to Alpha. "Can I hold it? Please! Alpha!" He sneezed, yeah, really sneezed, casting a half-starved, half-begging glance between Castiel and the rifle.
"Da. Why not..." he replied like it was nothing.
Not waiting for anything to change Cas' mind, he reached for the rifle. When he removed it from its holster, he was surprised by the hesitation. It was much heavier than one would expect from its somewhat plastic appearance. But when he ran the average dimensions, weights, and basic features of American military rifles through his head, it actually made sense. He had much sketchier information on the Russian ones, but he didn't see why they should be fundamentally different. Even at a glance, he found all the usual accessories, such as the ability to mount superior sights.
Using his instincts and what he'd seen from the others and the videos, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and headed in the opposite direction from where the Alpha was standing. Even an unloaded gun should always be pointed at the ground or a safe distance away. In reality, one could never be one hundred percent sure that there was no bullet in the chamber or jammed in the barrel. And of course it was unnecessarily threatening to show someone the muzzle.
He breathed slowly, savoring the sensation. The weight in his hands and the pressure on his shoulder and the smell of gun oil, Teflon, high quality plastic and the other subtle smells that came with guns. And it felt great. Strong and safe and... absurdly excited.
He dropped the rifle quickly and licked his lips.
He'd never reacted to guns like this before. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this particular one belonged to his Alpha and that it was so easy to imagine him holding it. Even more dangerous than when he only had his strength and his fangs.
"Do you like it?" the Alpha broke the silence with a curious question.
"You can fucking bet on that, baby!" He turned to him, his voice jumping with spontaneous enthusiasm.
"Did you just call me 'baby'?" echoed Cas, raising an eyebrow in question and surprise.
It was then that Dean realized how he'd been addressed and his gut instantly dropped. It was partly embarrassment, but also a little fear. He had never dared to tell him this and he wasn't sure if Alpha liked it or not. In so many ways, Cas could surprise him, but truthfully, in many others, he was exactly the kind of Alpha he looked like at first glance. A bit of a Knot, but not the worst case. Of course... his gaze wandered to his left shoulder, where he had left his mark perhaps an hour ago, and his Omega growled possessively at the sight of the white fabric of his shirt hiding the clear sign that the Alpha belonged to him. That half-bite, that mark, gave him the damned right to call Castiel by any stupid nickname...well, maybe not any, but 'baby' was harmless.
"'Yeah, I did," he said proudly, grabbing him by the belt and pulling the slightly surprised Alpha close so he could show his teeth in a possessive snarl. "You're mine, so I can call you whatever I want. Problem?"
The answer to his challenge was a growl that made Castiel's collar vibrate and a very firm grip on the back of his neck, accompanied by a rough jerk. He almost missed the hiss if the sound hadn't been muffled by the Alpha pressing his lips to his own. It wasn't a kiss with tongue and lip play, he just pressed his mouth firmly against Dean's so that their teeth met and pulled away almost immediately, accompanied by an indecent grinding sound.
"None, moy Din," he growled through bared teeth; Dean found it immensely satisfying to hear. But then he became a little more serious. "But don't call me that in front of my men. Only at home, da? It'll just be our..." It wasn't so much a request, it wasn't even a demand, it was an order spoken with enough Alpha dominance that Dean had no thought of protesting or disobeying. And besides, he didn't mind obeying as long as he could call Cas whatever he wanted at home.
"Now put the gun away. I want to show you the last things before they bring us food," the Alpha urged, nodding his head toward the open safe.
Dean didn't argue, just dutifully put the rifle back on the shelf and stepped aside to give Castiel the space he probably needed. And he did. The Alpha opened the cabinet built into the side of the safe, and a pile of documents, several wads of cash (more currencies than just US dollars, judging by the different colors), some folders of papers, and a bracelet-like box Cas had taken out saw the light of day. He opened it and showed him the whole bunch of diamonds. Real fucking diamonds. Small ones, maybe, but they were definitely diamonds.
"Diamonds. None of them over two carats, because diamonds under two carats are easy to sell. All together they're worth about two hundred thousand." He closed the box and put it back in the compartment, then tapped his finger on the column of dollar bills. "I'm leaving between forty and fifty thousand dollars here. There are also some Euros, Russian rubles... and Cuban pesos. These will come in handy if you want to get out of the States quickly. Finally, here..." He pulled out a bundle of documents, "...three fake documents. I'll have some made up for you." He put the documents back in their place. "Also," he nodded to the items in the safe, "I have several secret boxes around town. I'll put your documents in them, too, and tell you where to find them, but you should make your own. If things go to hell, my boxes might be compromised or otherwise inaccessible. You need your own backup plan."
Dean frowned. Of course he knew and controlled all that. Dad had taught them how to create both secret boxes and dead drops. How to find and use alternate weapons, how to find the best escape route, how to make emergency escape plans, things like that. He knew it. It was literally his life. But at the thought of leaving his Alpha in a serious situation, everything in him rebelled in protest. His Omega just growled angrily, utterly determined against even the possibility of leaving Castiel to anyone or anything.
"I don't need it. I'll never leave you, Alpha."
"You will. You have to think of yourself first..."
"No! I don't have to! I never plan to...!"
"Don't argue, dorogoy!" He interrupted, uncharacteristically brusque and with such force in his voice that Dean instinctively backed up half a step, whimpering and showing his neck as he dug his eyes into the ground.
Shit! He didn't want to upset his Alpha, he just wanted him to know that he would never leave him. That should have been a good thing, but in light of Castiel's reaction, it was clear that it wasn't. And Dean felt so stupid and inadequate, like he had let his Alpha down, and even though he was still aware that he was acting and feeling like a whiny Omega, he couldn't help it.
A sigh echoed over his head, and a large, warm hand landed on his armpit, bringing relief. The feeling of inadequacy vanished under the touch of the fingers running through his hair. The Alpha was not angry. This was fucking great. With a sigh, he moved to meet the caressing hand, and then, as the large palm moved to his cheek, he leaned into it, a low growl escaping his chest, and lifted his head to look into Alpha's eyes. There was no hint of red or even anger in them, more like fatigue.
"Din... in all circumstances, especially the worst ones, you must think of yourself first and foremost. That will make my life the easiest, da?" He raised his eyebrows considerably. "And then one day... when the time comes..." He placed a hand on Dean's lower abdomen, "... I'm going to need you to think of our puppy first. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes, Alpha, of course," he replied automatically. Instinct and his Omega would not allow him to answer otherwise, even if he wasn't one hundred percent sure of his answer. Especially the part about the puppy. Having a puppy wasn't something that glowed in his head with a big "No" and an exclamation mark, but it was still a very abstract idea.
Suddenly, the silence that followed was broken by the sound of a melody coming from his pocket. It made him jump in fright.
"Um... sorry..." he mumbled as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket, staring at it for a ridiculously long time before realizing it had to be the courier. Who else. He didn't have a credit card number or online banking to pay in advance, so it was pretty hard for the courier to leave them a pizza at the reception.
"Yeah?"He announced into his phone.
"Food delivery. I'm down in reception," a not-so-friendly voice answered him.
"Uh..." He looked up at Alpha, who was already pulling his usual wad of bills out of his pocket and handing him one along with his black chip card. "Right. I'll run downstairs," he replied as Case took the money. Then he hung up.
"Go. I'll close up and get us another beer," Cas sent him off with a slight nod towards the door.
Dean just chuckled happily and ran out of the room.
°°0°°
The Empire Strikes Back theme song blared from the TV. Castiel took a last drag and leaned over to extinguish the cigarette in the ashtray. Then he looked at Dean.
Omega was asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. His head and back were supported by a pile of pillows he'd collected all over the place, one pillow wedged between his body and the sofa, and the other two he'd placed to create a sort of makeshift nest in which he'd made himself comfortable when the first episode of Star Wars came on. He had his third bottle of beer in his arms, his hand resting in the empty pizza box on his thighs. His legs were stretched out so that the tips of his toes touched Castiel's thigh in his cheap white socks, and his chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed peacefully. It was surreal that he could fall asleep with the sounds of battle echoing from all sides, thanks to the high-quality stereo system built into the walls, left over from Pugal.
Castiel turned off the TV. The room was completely silent. . At this height, you couldn't hear the traffic and the rare sirens, and of course the music from Blue Sky didn't reach here, even though it was already open. Good soundproofing took care of that. It was just the two of them, in the silence and safety of Castiel's lair. The Alpha purred contentedly inside him, peaceful, almost asleep.
He hadn't felt so... safe and at home in a long time, as he did here and now that he had his Omega. His Dean. His Mate... with his soft skin, his bright freckles, his honey hair and his green eyes. And with his scent, that wonderful mix of pine resin that could only be smelled near freshly cut trees and the scent of a blossoming apple orchard. It was perfect, except... Castiel's nostrils flared as he took in a mouthful of air and Dean's scent.
Omega's scent was quiet, like his sleep, subtly spiced with the sweet notes of Omega's scent, but not in that unpleasant way. Only at the same time, in some vague way, it was weaker than before. He'd noticed it in the hospital, but then Dean had rationalized it with the drugs. Now all the drugs had to be out of his system. He smelled no chemo and only the occasional whiff of bitter pain. Still, Dean's scent remained strangely bland, almost as if it reflected Omega's much calmer and submissive mood.
Yes, that was another thing that had changed.
Even though Dean still didn't act like the other Omegas around Castiel - there was no avoiding it, even though he never consciously sought out the company of Omegas. He didn't roll his eyes, he didn't agree with everything Castiel said, he didn't seek his guidance or smell his willingness to give in, but something in his behavior had changed. It was subtle nuances. Just little changes in the way Omega approached him, as if submission wasn't a rational choice, but a natural instinct.
On the one hand, it was satisfying. The Alpha in him was satisfied that Omega, whom he had considered his own from the first moment, had truly given himself to him. But at the same time, it caused Castiel some concern. From the beginning, he had tried hard not to suppress Dean's temper, not to extinguish the spark of defiance that had flamed within him, and now he began to wonder if that might have happened after all. Maybe he had pushed too hard, maybe it was the result of the guardianship, or...
A growl forced itself through his clenched teeth.
It was the human waste Dean had gotten his filthy hands on.The pedophilic Alpha imitation he'd like to rip to shreds with his own hands, but first he'd rip his balls off, tie a knot in them and give him a hug. And watch it choke on its own flesh and blood. Yes, that's what he wanted to do, and that's what he'd do. If he really broke something in his Omega, he would find a way to get to Evans in prison and do the most horrible things to him with his own hands. He'd do it even if it meant losing his cover as an upstanding citizen.
One of the phones in his pocket began to vibrate, interrupting his angry thoughts.
Irritated, he pulled it out and found that it was Pyotr calling him. He had to answer it, but he didn't want to disturb the sleeping Dean with the call, so he got up and went to the kitchen.
"Yes?" he answered the phone in Russian, because Pyotr usually didn't call him out of courtesy, and if they were going to talk business, he didn't want Omega to understand any of the conversation if he happened to wake up.
"I've got news about old Winchester," the burly Beta was not pleased.
Castiel let out a frustrated sigh and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the kitchen counter. He quickly pulled one out, stuck it behind his gold fang, and fished a lighter from his pocket.
"Go on," he urged through the cigarette clamped between his lips, then lit up.
"He escaped from jail this afternoon."
He took a drag, holding the smoke in his lungs, then began to blow it out very slowly, trying to concentrate on releasing all the anger that had suddenly flared up in his chest. His Alpha growled angrily, annoyed that his opponent, the only other Alpha who had a claim on his Dean and could take him away from him, was free again. With Winchester closed, he was at least somewhat out of reach. It wasn't as safe as his body rotting in a shallow grave or a landfill somewhere, but it was better than nothing. John Winchester on the loose again was a fucking huge problem.
"How?"
"According to the police report, it happened while he was being transported to court. Car accident. A small van ran into the path of a prison bus. The bus driver jerked the wheel, the bus flipped over, and most of the ten prisoners it was transporting escaped. Including Alpha Winchester."
"I don't suppose the cops know where to find Winchester..."
"No, they don't. But there's a manhunt out for him."
"Even here in New York?"
"Not yet," Pyotr replied. "Do you think he'll come here after all? He's got the police on his tail, and I'm sure Alastair too, and I'm guessing the people you sent after him. If I were him, I'd hide until this blows over a bit."
"You're not like him, and you're not Alpha," he replied sharply. "Here in New York is what he wants most. His puppies are here. Even though he's a lousy father, as an Alpha he cares for them more than anything else. Not out of love, but because he considers them his. Especially his Omega son is his property," he finished with a small growl. The mere thought that another Alpha considered his Omega mate to be his own made him incredibly angry.
"Will he come for young Dean Jankovich then...?" It wasn't quite a question, nor a simple statement. Something in between.
"Yes," he agreed through clenched teeth, and to calm himself down a bit so that he could continue this conversation, he took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke very slowly. His lungs protested a little. He'd been smoking more lately than he had in the last ten, maybe even twelve years, when he'd managed to cut down to the necessary pack a day. And his lungs just weren't the same as they had been when he was twenty and didn't like smoking more than three packs a day. Fucking Winchester!
"He will come for them. My Omega and his Alpha brother. If he wants to take Samuel, he can take him and go to hell, but I'm sure he won't want to leave without Dean. Just on principle."
"We're not going to give him that, boss," Pyotr assured him in a firm, distant tone. "As soon as Winchester gets here, we'll take care of him."
He knew his men would certainly try, but after what John Winchester had shown, he doubted they would succeed. They would only endanger themselves, and Castiel didn't want that. That was his problem. He'd stood by for too long, letting others act for him, now it was time for him to step in personally.
"No, my friend," he declined his offer of help. "It's my problem, and I'll handle it myself from now on. When old Winchester gets here, Ice Lark will take care of him. Do we understand each other?"
There was a long silence on the other side, broken only by a little heavy breathing, as if Pyotr was in a hurry to get somewhere.
"Yeah, boss. Understood," he finally said respectfully.
"Good." He stubbed out half the cigarette in a nearby ashtray; fuck it, he really needed to slow down. "Now tell me about our little entertainment venue on the docks?"
"Everything went well. We did have to hire outside help, but we paid him off to the nines and sent him on vacation to China just fine. He won't be a problem in the future," Beta assured him. "And I'm guessing the cargo will be fished out by the harbor police sometime tomorrow morning. They're already swarming around it."
"And the Albanians?"
"They already know they lost the goods, and they're pissed as hell."
His lips twitched in a smile. At least there's some good news.
The rustling of fabric reached his ear, and more importantly, the sound of a pizza box hitting the floor. He glanced over to the couch, but Dean didn't seem to be awake. More like he was tossing and turning in his sleep.
"Okay." He looked at his watch. It was a little after eleven. "I'll be at Blue Sky from now on, as usual. Look for me there if you need me."
"Sure, boss."
Since he'd said all he needed to, he ended the call, put his cell phone in his pocket, and walked back to the couch, where he found Dean in almost the same position as before. He'd just rested his ankle on his knee, apparently causing the pizza box to fall to the floor. He picked it up, closed it and placed it on the coffee table. Then he carefully released the almost-full bottle from Dean's grasp, which Omega commented on with a vague mumble, but didn't wake up. Castiel finished the last swig and set the bottle down beside the box.
Carefully, he lifted Dean up under his knees and over his head.
"What...? What..." Omega murmured, half opening his eyes.
"It's nothing, Omega. Go back to sleep," he ordered with the appropriate amount of Alpha authority.
It worked. Dean just grunted in agreement, his eyelids drooping again, and when Castiel picked him up, he just clutched his shirt and let his head fall to his shoulder.
He carried Dean into the bedroom and set him down on the nest bed, an unconscious thought crossing his mind that he would have to return all the pillows he had bought for Omega. If circumstances prevented them from spending Dean's playtime together, he simply put them away. They were of no use to him as an Alpha, he didn't know how to use them, and they were more of a hindrance and an unnecessary reminder of how he had failed to take care of his Omega.
Dean might have a use for them, though. At least that was what Castiel hoped, watching him now as he rolled over on his stomach with a grunt and pulled one of the two pillows towards him, hugging it and burying his nose in it. It made it a little harder for Castiel to undress, but the truth was, he'd had his share of experience undressing passed out drunks. As an Alpha, he rarely got as drunk as the others, so it was usually left to him to untie and finally deliver to bed.
Without much effort, he flipped Omega back onto his back - Dean took his pillow with him and continued to press it against his face - quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down with an expert hand, revealing Dean's muscular thighs and calves and milky skin dotted with golden hairs. And the green and blue bruises on his thigh and knee. He gritted his teeth to keep from growling loudly and waking Dean unnecessarily. He knew who was behind the bruises and what was to come in prison, but that only partially soothed his anger.
Leaning down, he first kissed Dean's knee, then planted a few kisses on his thigh, and finally brushed his cheek against the inside of Dean's thigh so that he was close to the soft cock hidden in his white briefs and his scent, which was intense in those parts. He left his mark there so that their scents would mingle and so that everyone would know that this beautiful cock belonged to him alone, and he lifted his head to look at Dean's sleeping face. Omega had already removed the pillow from his face, but he was still clutching it tightly and there was a small crease between his eyebrows.
"He will suffer, my love. I'll have you deliver his balls and the knot. I promise you that," he said solemnly and in Russian, because it certainly carried more weight in his own language. And it didn't matter that Dean couldn't understand it even if he wasn't asleep.
Strangely, though, Omega sighed immediately afterward and the furrow in his brow disappeared, as if he had heard and understood.
Castiel smiled contentedly, stroked his bruised thigh one last time, and reached for one of the blankets to cover Dean.
Notes:
If you want to get a better idea of Castiel's apartment, you can look HERE. I've created drawings of not only Castiel's apartment, but also Dean and Sam's apartment and Dean and Sam's motel room.
Chapter Text
He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was a huge window with the shades drawn. It confused him for a few seconds because this was not what hotel rooms usually looked like when he woke up. But the intoxicating smell of roasted cherries with a hint of honey and bitter almonds, as well as the smell of cigarettes, quickly reminded him where he was. He was in Castiel's apartment. In his lair. And in his bed...which he did not recognize.
He raised himself up on his elbows and looked around.
He wasn't in Castiel's old bed. This was new, and it was a nesting bed. Huge, even bigger than the one in the other apartment, and a little different. It was oval, of course, and the headboard extended about two-thirds of the way around, but it wasn't the same height all the way around. Most of it was actually quite low; you could easily reach over the upholstery to the nightstands. It only rose where it met the wall, and it rose to such a height that it was easy to rest one's back and head comfortably when sitting. And there were only a few pillows with milky white covers. No crazy colors or fuzz, so it was actually... pretty cool, he admitted mentally as he sat down.
Picking up the blanket, he checked that he was only wearing his briefs and socks, and of course the t-shirt he'd worn yesterday. But he wasn't sure where the rest of his clothes were, and he didn't really remember how the hell he had gotten into bed. He must have fallen asleep in front of the TV and then stumbled into the bedroom. Yeah, that's probably what happened, he thought, and he finally dragged himself out of bed. He knew he'd left his backpack at the foot of the kitchen table last night, but he had to put the pants he was wearing somewhere. They held his phone and his wallet with the ten dollars Sonny had given him. Not that he needed the money, but he wanted to know what time it was and text Sam where he was. He hadn't heard from him since yesterday afternoon.
His eyes fell on the open closet door. He hadn't expected to put his jeans there, but he tried to look and oddly enough, yes, they were folded in half on the sofa in the middle of the dressing room. He fished out his cell phone first, only to find that it was seven twenty in the morning and he had several messages from Sammy. He texted him a quick reply that he was at Castiel's house and would get back to him later, then put the phone back in his pocket and pulled on his jeans.
He made a brief but necessary stop in the bathroom, where he was pleasantly surprised by a cup of toothpaste and a toothbrush, which he used immediately, and then left the bedroom.
There was no sign of Alpha, but he must have been home because the coffee maker in the kitchen was humming, the light on the teapot was on, and the news was on the TV. Maybe he was at the office or at Blue Sky. He felt a pang of regret, though, and his Omega grumbled a little, hoping to wake up next to his Alpha. Just like two weeks ago. But... He was not supposed to be such a stupid, clingy Omega. Cas had a job to do and it was clear that he wasn't going to be on Dean's heels all the time. After all, he didn't even need him, he could take care of himself.
He ruffled his hair and yawned as he walked over to the kitchen. He felt more rested than he had in a long time and although the bruises still hurt a little, it wasn't too bad. He pulled out his mug and poured hot coffee into it. It smelled good! Like fucking unreal! It wasn't like anything he'd ever smelled before and when he lightly moistened his lips with the hot liquid... fuck, that was good! It was strong, he could totally feel how it invigorated him, but it wasn't disgustingly bitter like the drops he'd made himself.
"Dean..."
He almost jumped out of his skin in shock, almost spilling a cup of hot coffee all over his crotch. He turned abruptly and stared wide-eyed at the Alpha who had just appeared out of nowhere behind him. Like some kind of fucking ghost or cat.
"Shit..." he sighed in relief. His heart was still pounding like crazy. "Shit, baby, you can't do this to me! Just... sneaking around behind my back! If I had a knife in my hand, you would have had it in your throat by now!" The remorse didn't fall on deaf ears. In fact, Alpha had the audacity to look amused. "Ugh... well... do you want coffee?" He asked, raising his cup almost as an offer for his own coffee.
"Net," Castiel declined, but reached over Dean and grabbed another mug from the shelf above. "I'll take tea. This is soothing," he explained, walking over to the teapot and beginning to pour in that odd way. First a little from the teapot on top, and then he filled it up with hot water from the pot itself.
"What's it called?" Dean managed before he realized he wanted to speak; Castiel gave him a questioning look. "The teapot. I'm sure it has a name."
"Samovar."
It certainly wasn't an English word, probably Russian. He had quite a collection of them. He knew how to say yes and no, what bliny was, "moy" definitely meant "mine," and words like dorogay, sladkiy, and lyubov were the same as darling and honey. If Sammy had been here, I'm sure he would have picked up a lot more. He was actually learning Spanish on his own, just from textbooks, videos on the Internet, and audio books. He'd even learned French and Latin that way (good, you need Latin to study medicine and law, right?), and he'd caught him watching sign language instructional videos a few times. It was weird, but... yeah, his little brother was a bit of a weirdo, and if his weird hobbies, including his interest in serial killers and the Mafia, kept him out of trouble, so what? And while his mind was on Sammy...
"I texted Sammy," he grumbled, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, coffee mug in both hands. "He's staying with the Beta family. He says he's doing pretty well there, but I want to go check on him because... yeah, I know it's not going to be easy to arrange for him to live here, so I know he'll be staying with them for a while... but I'd like to see him. You don't even have to come with me, just lend me your car..."
"No time for that today," Castiel interrupted. "There are a few things to take care of around your custody, and I already have work for you this morning."
"Work?" He asked, a little surprised.
"Da." The Alpha nodded and took a small sip of his tea. "It's Thursday, which means the cleaners are coming today. Two of my men will bring them; Sergey and Kot... you already know him, he's bald and has a dagger on his arm similar to mine," he held up his hand where his dagger was on his forearm, but couldn't be seen because it was hidden under his shirt. "Normally I stay up and keep an eye on things, but today I need to catch up on my few hours of sleep. I'll leave you to it then."
Yeah, so he wasn't wrong about Alpha having someone clean his apartment.
"Um... sure, it's no problem. I'll keep an eye on it..." he agreed, not quite sure, since he found it so strange to watch strangers cleaning 'his' apartment, but he guessed it would probably be one of his duties as a Mafia hubby from now on. Watching others do the jobs he was used to doing himself.
"Spasibo, dorogay," Castiel crooned, grabbing his chin and leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips. "And now I'm going to bed."
"You want company?" He asked, his eyebrows arching coquettishly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. Oh, he would definitely have no problem keeping the Alpha company.
Castiel bared his teeth and snarled, leaning all the way over to Dean. His nostrils flared as he sucked in air, and his eyes flashed red, but only for a moment. It was just a hint around his pupils that quickly dissipated as Cas sighed and pulled away again.
"I'd love to, but then I wouldn't get much sleep," he replied, visibly a little cranky, and leaned in one last time, this time to kiss Dean lightly on the lips. "You'll have to wait until tonight, okay? Will you be patient, my Omega?"
Dean exhaled sharply. Castiel's words ran down his spine, bringing warmth and excitement to his body, which of course quickly found its way to his crotch, and especially to that empty, lustful spot deep in his belly. There was also a twinge of fear, but he quickly suppressed it. He'd made a promise to himself. He'd promised himself that Castiel would be his first - as ridiculously romantic a cliché as that sounded - and that he would jump right in as soon as he could. He wasn't going to let it be anyone else. He didn't want that memory.
"I'll have to, Alpha..." he agreed with a theatrical sigh, looking up at Case from behind his eyelashes.
The corners of Alpha's mouth twitched in a smile, and his eyes held that gentle warmth that only belonged to Dean.
"Khoroshiy mal'chik," he said something Dean didn't understand, but it sounded so nice he couldn't help but make a sound very similar to a short growl, and when Alpha planted another cigarette-tasting kiss on him, he just sighed and made no protest as Castiel turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
The bedroom door closed, leaving Dean alone.
He just stood there for a moment, as if perhaps expecting the Alpha to return, but then he looked around. It was time for something to eat. A quick check of the fridge showed that there was some food in there, of course, but what he would have considered edible was just bacon, eggs and yesterday's pizza. Fortunately, he knew that Alpha had several kinds of cereal, so he reached for the familiar cinnamon chocolate squares with a bear on the wrapper. He took his bowl of milk and coffee to the couch, switched the TV from the news to a children's channel with cartoons - they were more entertaining than the news, of course - and started eating his breakfast while texting with Sammy.
They couldn't have a video call because little Alpha was already on his way to school, but he took a few quick pictures and sent them to him. He also stood up to take a picture of the room that would hopefully soon be Sammy's. Yeah, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to send pictures of Cas's lair, but he didn't include the address and tried not to take pictures of anything outside the window. Beyond that... Blue Sky's address was pretty easy to get to, and he somehow figured there were probably enough people who knew where the Alpha lived.
Sam was impressed with Castiel's place. He didn't like to admit it, and Dean must have liked the look of it, but he finally admitted that it was a "damn nice place," and he didn't forget to mention the library, which Dean, of course, took a picture of for him as well.
Unfortunately, they couldn't talk for long because Sammy had to concentrate on his lessons and Dean really didn't want to interrupt him. The boy was a goddamn genius and an Alpha. He could achieve anything he wanted in life, and he'd be a pretty lousy brother to mess it up, even if it was so trivial.
But he was a little bored without Sam on the phone, so he stopped by and logged on to Facebook, only to be inundated with shit. He hadn't been on since that Alpha asshole from Sun Hill took his phone. He hadn't even logged on when he was at Sonny's because... well, he had 'friends' from school in Becky and Kevin and he didn't really want to be reminded of them. Since he wouldn't see them again, it was best to cut himself off from them. That's what he always did, only this time...
The oldest unread message from Kevin was about why he had been called to the principal's office and where he was. And the ones after that were from both of them and were along the same lines, where he was, why he hadn't come to school, when he would come and what had happened to him. Even Becky wondered, who for some reason decided she wasn't mad enough at him not to worry about him. Then the messages stopped for a while, as they both ended with something to the effect that he could go somewhere if he didn't want to talk to them anymore, only to have both Omegas shower him with dismay, desperate apologies, and repeated questions about whether he was okay and where he was. He guessed it was around the time the video of Sun Hill burning came out.
And they weren't the only ones. His chat was flooded with mostly hearts and loving stickers, though he'd also gotten some pretty nasty messages telling him he was a bitch and a criminal and that he deserved to burn in that house (he didn't even know the people who wrote those and wasn't sure if they were classmates from school or who the hell they were?!), and there were so many friend requests flashing up that he didn't even know the names of that many people in his entire life. And as he scrolled through the endless list, he was pretty sure that only a few of them were his classmates. He recognized some of the profiles as journalist. That would be enough to get him followed by some damn journalists. That could put Case in danger.
So he went to the trouble of clicking through and completely unfriending the entire FB profile. When he was promised that his account and all data would be deleted, he was really relieved. He wasn't going to create any more social media accounts, and he was determined to delete all the ones he had right then and there.
And he did. He deleted everything he could except for Snapchat, where he talked to Sam, and email, which no one else had except for his dad and Bobby. He hoped this would prevent another hunt, because if he couldn't be reached, people would eventually get tired of looking for him, right?
The ringing came from the door. It had to be Castiel's people and the cleaners.
He shoved his phone in his pocket and walked to the door, but once there, he hesitated. It certainly wasn't smart to just open the door, but how could he find out who was at the door? His gaze fell on the code entry panel. There was also a small screen and other buttons next to the actual number pad. It looked like there was a camera instead of a peephole.
He scanned the buttons and found one with a rectangle with a circle in it. That could be it. He pressed it and the small screen immediately showed him the area behind the door. Though the image was small, it was so clear that he recognized Kot quite reliably, and he recognized the other guy, the Sergey, well.
With a swipe of his card and a press of the code, he opened the door and was met with a few surprised looks.
"Hey, dudes," he said to the two Russians, who had just exchanged a few uncertain looks before Kot spoke:
"We brought the cleanup." He stepped aside and nodded to the trio of women who had come with them. Two brunettes, one dark redhead, dressed in plain jeans, sweatpants, sweatshirts and t-shirts. Two of them were carrying various buckets, rags and brooms for mopping, and the third was standing by the same cart that hotel maids used to have, filled with cleaning supplies and containing a vacuum cleaner hose. A damn long hose at first glance.
Dean sucked in air. No alpha or omega, just faint beta smells covered by perfume and the stench of cleaning products and cigarettes. And a strong menthol smell wafted from one of them, probably from the way she chewed gum with her mouth open as she measured Dean from head to toe, cool eyes peering out from under overly made-up eyelids. And twisting her mouth, painted bright red with lipstick, as she did so.
"Yeah, I know. Castiel told me you were coming," he replied, stepping aside to let them in, deliberately using Alpha's name. Not only did he want the cleaners to realize that he had the privilege of calling Castiel by his first name, he wanted to point it out to Kota and the new guy. Kota had never shown him much respect, and Dean wanted him to realize who he was. He was the Mate of their big boss and lived in his lair. That meant something, damn it!
He also wanted to warn them to take off their shoes, but the new guy, Sergey - a man in his mid-forties or so with thinning hair and a tattoo of a snake's head peeking out from under his leather jacket, missing the little finger on his left hand for some reason - said something in Russian to the cleaners, and the one standing by the cart handed him two pairs of shoe covers. Then Sergei handed one pair of shoe covers to Kota, went inside, and before he put them on his own feet, he crossed himself in front of Jesus, just as Castiel had done. Kota didn't care about the picture, and in Russian he hurried the Beta women inside and made sure they took the shoe covers as well.
Dean watched the whole thing carefully, noticing that one of the cleaners pushing the cart had also crossed herself, and the way the three of them had pulled the cart up the stairs together without Castiel's men making any sign of wanting to help.
He waited until they were all upstairs before going after them.
"I don't think it matters what they do in the other rooms, but if they're going to clean Alpha's office, I want to be there," he said as he watched the cleaners get ready to clean.
"Here we are. We'll keep an eye on them," Sergei finally spoke directly to him in English with a very thick accent.
"The Alpha said I should supervise the cleaning, and I will," he said firmly. "And they can't clean the master bedroom, bathroom and closet. Tell them it's best if they don't even go in there. The Alpha is asleep, and waking any Alpha, especially this one, is like putting your hand in a lion's mouth."
The Betas exchanged glances.
"We'll tell them," Kot replied, then added: "We have something for you."
Dean frowned a little. What could they possibly have for him? Kot lifted a basket full of cleaning supplies from the top shelf of the cart, reached into the cart with his other hand, and pulled out a bag of their weapons, familiar to Dean.
"Damn! That's our stuff!" He rejoiced sincerely, literally lunging for the bag Kot handed him, and was about to open it to check the contents when he paused and looked around at the cleaners, who were currently arguing about something in Russian. "Can they be trusted?" He asked, nodding his chin in their direction.
Their little arsenal was varied, and besides the fact that he didn't want any of the Beta females running to the police to report a sixteen-year-old Omega playing with guns, there were some rare pieces in their collection that Dean didn't want to lose in a future cleaning.
"Da," Kot assured him.
He acknowledged his reassurance with a nod, placed the bag on the floor and crouched down beside it. The first look inside and the smell of gun oil was bliss. He was damn glad to have all their weapons back. And the next thing he knew, they needed some maintenance. It had been a long time since he'd cleaned and oiled them all, and since he'd sharpened the knives, and what better time to do that than now, when he had the whole day off.
He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder in a learned motion, and raised his eyebrows significantly, his gaze fixed on Castiel's men, who stood with their backs to the wall like very surly-looking bouncers.
"So... are you guys going to stand here like dicks the whole time, or are you going to have a beer with me and help me spring clean?" He asked, shaking his bag so that the sound of guns and knives rattling against each other could be heard. Castiel's men just stared at him, so he rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Look, I'm not forcing anything on you, but I'll be in the kitchen over there and I've got three bottles of good, nice cold Russian beer ready. If you want to sit down, that's up to you," he added, and without waiting for a response, he simply turned and walked into the kitchen.
He threw his bag on the dining table, and as he searched it for the old cloth they usually used to clean their guns, he saw the Betas pull away from the wall and make their way into the kitchen to the rustling of the covers. He pulled out the sheet, tossed it on the table, gave them a friendly grin, and walked over to the refrigerator, where he pulled out three beers. When he turned back, Kot and Sergei were already at the table, spreading the sheet across the wooden countertop together.
Dean smiled and walked over to join them.
°°0°°
In the end, the whole cleanup took a little over two hours, during which time they managed to take care of all the weapons together. They didn't talk much. Sergey might not be able to talk, and Kot wasn't the talkative type, but Dean didn't mind. They didn't say much when they cleaned the weapons with Dad either.
When he finally escorted Alpha's guys and the cleaners out, he had to call the elevator and send them down with his card. That meant someone had to send them up, and it certainly wasn't Alpha. Who else had the card that allowed him to go up to Castiel's apartment? There was only one person he could think of, and the mere thought of him made him growl softly. Damn little Frenchman!
He was glad to be back in the apartment where that Napoleon couldn't go. He was a little less glad that he was alone again and that there was nothing he could do. Nothing to do but heat up a pizza and watch TV. And so he did. He snuggled comfortably between the cushions, put the pizza box on his lap, and boredly flipped through lists of movies on Netflix, HBO, and others before landing on a perfectly ordinary TV show.
"...dropping to seven degrees and adding showers. If you don't drive.... Horrific find. In one of the shipping containers fished out by the Coast Guard this morning were the bodies of 20 Omegas, likely victims of human trafficking... Best to add basil at the end. And watch out for the stems, because if you... Are you really determined to quit? Don't forget, if you spin one more time, you could win your prize..."
The bedroom door opened and Castiel came out of the room.
Dean was on his feet in a flash, spurred on by a sudden excitement he didn't know he had, accompanied by his Omega's enthusiastic chant of "Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!. Almost immediately, he felt stupid. He was like a damn Bieber fan, so he pushed his stupid and difficult Omega into a corner, but still, without missing a beat, he went into the kitchen to see Alpha, who was pouring himself a coffee.
"Hi, Cas," he greeted him with a smile.
The Alpha turned to look at him and the sight was... well, not exactly the handsome guy he knew. His face was wrinkled from the pillow, his sexy stubble had managed to grow to a length in the few hours that had passed that made Cas look rather scruffy, his expression was impassive and tired, and the fact that he was wearing only boxers and a robe with his sock-clad feet tucked into his slippers certainly didn't help his overall appearance.
He just gave a throaty grunt in response to Dean's greeting and shuffled over to the table. Literally shuffled. He even seemed to have a slight limp on his left leg, and as he dropped into one of the chairs, he let out a long sigh of relief, as if he'd just lifted a hundred pounds and could finally put them down. Then, without looking at Dean, he reached for a pack of cigarettes lying on the table, pecked one out so he could pull it out with his lips, and finally fished for a lighter in his robe pocket to light it.
The tip of the cigarette glowed bright red as he took a deep drag, then cocked his head and blew out the smoke slowly with a satisfied grunt.
Dean watched him and...well, he didn't know what to do. Castiel looked like his dad on a drunken night, but as far as he knew, the Alpha hadn't had more than a couple of beers last night and seemed perfectly fine this morning. Had he been drinking in the bedroom? That was the question. His scent didn't give it away, it smelled like cherry pie with almond crumble. Not the freshest pie, but it didn't smell like alcohol either.
Dean slowly sat down across from his Alpha and subtly tasted the air. No, he couldn't smell alcohol even this close, but Cas looked like he had just come back from the dead. Stupid Omega instincts stirred inside him like a ball of restless snakes, pressing questions to his lips, like if the Alpha was okay and needed anything, even such silly thoughts as bringing him a blanket and a pillow and a glass of water and...
"Food!" He blurted out. "You want some breakfast?I'll make you some eggs and bacon. Or I could try pancakes. And there's pizza..." he paused. He really should shut up. Damn job! He sounded so pathetic and yet it had exactly the opposite effect on Alpha than he wanted.
Castiel was finally paying attention to him. A real look of piercing blue eyes that showed concentration and also disgust, which at the same time twisted Castiel's lips into an unpleasant smile.
"Food?" Alpha repeated in a husky voice. "Net..." he boomed, then picked up his cup and cigarette. "I have..." That seemed to say it all, because he took a deep gulp, and as soon as he swallowed, he took an equally long drag on his cigarette.
Dean frowned.
"A cigarette and coffee isn't..."
"Omega!" He interrupted sharply, putting his index finger next to the burning cigarette to his lips in the universal gesture of asking for silence. "Tishina i mir. Day Bog."
He pursed his lips, not so much in obedience to Alpha's half-hearted order, but rather in annoyance. And he kept staring at Case, at least this way he could tell him what he thought of his pathetic choice of breakfast. He couldn't help the stupid urge to feed his Alpha properly, like he did Sammy and Daddy at other times, and what the hell, in this case he was going to obey that urge quietly. Cas couldn't live on beer, cigarettes, and a slice of pizza. The Alpha had muscles rippling up his arms, but now, as he watched his fingers peel the ash from the cigarettes, he couldn't help but notice how skinny they were and how thin his wrists were. Damn! They were even thinner than the last time he'd seen them, and he wasn't even talking about...
"You smoke more than you used to," he broke the ordered silence, not feeling sorry at all. "Don't think I didn't see a whole pack disappear in you last night at the movies."
The Alpha sighed and gave Dean an annoyed look.
"You've been here less than a day and you're already acting like staraya suka," he growled through slightly bared golden fangs.
"Well, sorry for worrying about you," he snapped, baring his teeth in a snarl.
"I don't need you to... echrm... echrm!" A coughing fit interrupted what the Alpha was about to growl at him, and it quickly picked up enough unpleasant momentum that it almost looked like he was going to choke.There were these horrible, wet noises coming from its chest that literally made Dean jump out of his chair.
"Alpha! Cas...!"
A flash of blue eyes and a raised hand holding a cigarette stopped him from throwing himself across the table to do... something, he just didn't know exactly what. So he stood tensely, watching as Castiel, coughing and panting, set the cup on the table, the cigarette in the ashtray, and took several long steps toward the sink. He leaned over, drew from the depths of his bronchi and probably his lungs, and spat. It was almost like magic. Even though Castiel was still coughing and taking deep breaths, he was no longer choking.
Dean took a few steps around the table and stood unsteadily.This was perhaps the first time he'd seen the Alpha in any other position than utterly confident and damn perfect. As he stood there, resting his hands on the sink and slowly calming his breathing, he looked so terribly... human. I mean, sure, he was just a regular guy, but...
"Are you okay?" He asked in another rush of concern and care, his Omega shifting nervously in anticipation of the answer.
"Da, da..." Castiel waved off the question, only to suddenly lift his head and sniff loudly. Then he turned abruptly, a slightly surprised look on his face, but it quickly softened, his eyelids drooping, the lines around his lips deepening, and a haze of the soothing scent of roasted cherries wafted into the air... a soothing Alpha scent that very easily gave Dean a sense of security and a bit of lightheadedness. "Oh... Dorogay... I'm fine. You can look, no blood," he reassured him; hell, since when was reassurance that the guy you love wasn't coughing up blood supposed to be reassuring!
"But I'll have to slow down a bit... you're right," the Alpha added with a thoughtful frown, his gaze darting behind Dean's back for a moment before returning directly to him. "Don't look like that, Dean. I'm really fine. You're gonna stink up the whole apartment with a scared Omega for nothing."
"I'm not scared," he retorted, even though he could smell the fear in the Omega air that had to be coming from him. His damned body always did what it wanted in the presence of Alpha, and the suppressor injection didn't seem to help much either. He felt his own scent fluctuating so strangely. One moment it was intense and the next it was faint.
"If you say so," he replied neutrally, and instead of adding any further reassurances about his health, which would have been quite useful, he simply picked up the rest of the coffee from the table and downed it in one gulp before striding back to the bedroom. Of course, he had to pass Dean. After passing him, he dug his fingers into Dean's hair and planted a kiss on the back of his head, not far from the fresh wound there.
"Be right back," was all he said before disappearing into the bedroom.
Dean turned in time to see him close the door behind him and frowned.
Okay, this wasn't the ideal morning or the ideal first day, and the fact that he hadn't experienced waking up next to his Alpha was the least of his worries. And what did you expect, Winchester? He scolded himself. This isn't some stupid novel for wetting Omegas, this is reality, and your Alpha isn't Prince Charming. He's not going to bring flowers to your bed. He's a dangerous man, the leader of a criminal cartel, not a hipster flower boy. You knew that from the beginning.
He sighed and rubbed his neck.
Yeah, he had some unrealistic expectations about how things would go.
Now the fairy tale of the first night was over and reality was back in full force and he didn't really have any reason to complain. He had his Alpha, he was going to have his puppy sooner or later, he was living in an apartment that was a damn palace, and he probably wouldn't have to lift a finger for the rest of his life if he didn't want to. That was about as close to a fairy tale as you could get.
He stubbed out the cigarette that was still burning in the ashtray and went to flush it down the disposal, rinsing the ashtray at the same time to make it as clean as the cleaners had left it that morning. He would probably have to do the same with the one on the nightstand, the one next to the sink, and its nearby neighbor on the floor next to the toilet bowl.
And before he sat down, he managed to rinse out Castiel's coffee cup. Then he sat back and looked around the huge, silent apartment. Frankly, the silence and stillness was suddenly oppressive. He needed to do something, but there was nothing to do, or anyone to talk to, only who? He guessed Cas was in the bathroom and that might take some time. Sammy was still at school. He'd gotten rid of all his social media accounts. His guns were cleaned and back in his bag. The kitchen was sparkling clean. And he didn't feel like watching TV again, so he finally pulled out his phone. He stared at the black screen for a moment, and then who knows why he opened the message window and put Alpha Sonny in the recipient box. He knew he shouldn't be texting him, but...
Dean: Hey, it's Dean. I'm fine
He sent the message and waited for an answer he wasn't even sure would come. Sonny's message yesterday might have been a courtesy and he didn't really care to stay in touch with Dean, since Dean wasn't his concern anymore. But the answer came quickly.
Sonny: Hey, Dean. :-) Good to hear from you. How are you settling in?
Dean: good
Dean: I got my own room.
Sonny: Good for nesting?
He cast a quick glance at Sam's future room, which he could call his own to the Alpha, mostly so Sonny wouldn't think Castiel was "forcing" him to sleep in his bed. That could get his Alpha in trouble. And he wondered if the room would be suitable for nesting. He guessed it probably would. There was a big bed.
Dean: yeah big bed closet bathroom and balcony
Dean: it's fine
Dean: how are the others?
Sonny: Sounds good.
Sonny: Timmy misses you. He likes you because you were more devoted to him than Bart. Do you want to come visit? Timmy would be happy.
He smiled a little. Yes, that was definitely true. Bart was glued to his phone most of the time, chatting with his friends from school and not wanting to deal with a boy half his age. But Dean didn't care. Timmy was a little slower, but he was a good and obedient puppy who was no trouble at all. Seeing him again wouldn't be... bad. At least his Omega purred in approval. But it was just those stupid omega instincts that brought nothing but trouble. He couldn't go to Timmy and he shouldn't even talk to Sonny.
Dean: I don't think this is going to work
Dean: I gotto go
He ended the short conversation and put the phone down when the bedroom door opened and Alpha walked out. He was already dressed in his usual suit, a dark blue tie around his neck, he was clean shaven and his hands were adorned with a gold watch and several rings covering his tattoos.
"We have a meeting with Shurley at Blue Sky in ten minutes. Are you ready?"
He frowned in confusion.
He didn't know anything about the meeting and he couldn't think why he needed to talk to a lawyer.
"What meeting? Why?"
"Shurley is my lawyer, and therefore yours. And there are a few things we need to discuss," Cas replied, not too sure, and from the way he just walked to the front door and motioned for Dean to follow him with a "come on," it was clear that he wasn't going to give a more detailed explanation.
He stood up and followed his Alpha, not entirely willingly. This really wasn't how he had imagined their first day together.
Chapter 65
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He'd never been to the bottom of Blue Sky, or even when it was closed. It was interesting to see the club from a different perspective. For one, it was much bigger than it looked from the balcony, and it was a monster all around. It was also much more colorful, because just from the strong lights he could see how rich the orange-yellow was and how it contrasted with the black, and that everything was made of velvet, leather, shiny plastic (bar stools) and black glass (tables and desks) and matte stainless steel. It all screamed dollars, power, and Alpha, and he didn't even have to smell the thin, almost imperceptible mix of Alpha scents in the air.
Castiel walked straight from the door - he'd opened it with his apartment card and mentioned that Dean's card would work, too - to the huge seat right in front of the bar. And when they said huge, it really was huge, like at least thirty people each, and they might not even like each other very much.
The little lawyer from yesterday was already there, waiting for them, and when he and Alpha approached, he immediately stood up to greet them. Besides the lawyer, Alpha's men were sitting at the bar. The same ones who had brought the cleaning crew in this morning, Kot and Sergei. They both had a glass of coke in front of them and nodded politely as they passed.
"Alpha Novak," Shurley greeted, shaking Castiel's hand first before greeting Dean in the same way and stepping aside for Alpha to sit down.
Castiel took the first seat from where he could see the bar without having to turn his head, but when Dean slid in next to him, he moved over without hesitation, freeing up that seat so he could sit next to him, and the lawyer took a seat on the side of the couch. Just as the little Beta - he probably was a Beta, but he couldn't smell enough of his pheromones to be sure, despite the intense chemical scent of the perfume curling Dean's nose - sat up, Castiel's hand rested on Dean's shoulder, and the Alpha pulled him a little closer. He would have liked to relax in his embrace, but the presence of the chemically-scented lawyer didn't allow it. Why was Shurley here? What else was there to discuss regarding his custody? Wasn't it closed and Child and Youth Services could take him? If so, he'd blow off any Castiel cover and accept the unspoken offer the Alpha had made him at the hospital; drop off the face of the earth and wait for things to settle down, then live happily ever after with Cas under an assumed name.
Or maybe it was Sammy... it just occurred to him. Lawyers helped with adoptions, didn't they? Maybe Shurley was just here to discuss Cas taking custody of Sam.
"Have you ever dealt with lawyers, Omega Winchester?" Shurley asked politely as he pulled some papers out of his briefcase.
"No. Not that I know of."
He had a vague memory of sitting in an office holding Sam, who was chewing his stuffed pig, and their Alpha talking to a guy in a suit. It was after his mother had died. It wasn't until years later that he realized it was probably the notary handling Mom's will. It was the closest thing he had to a law degree.
"Okay... okay..." Shurley replied, placing a plain piece of paper in front of him and picking up an expensive looking gold pen with a mother of pearl inlay. "Let me get a few things straight. I am not your lawyer, because as an Omega in Alpha custody, you have no right to hire your own lawyer. You are, however, entitled to be represented by the lawyer your Alpha guardian hires for you, or even his own lawyer if he has one. The exception to this would be if there were proceedings against your Alpha Guardian and you were also in the position of the victim. Then you would get a lawyer from the state or any lawyer could take you on pro bono. Either way... I, and any lawyer who would take you on as a client, are bound by the attorney-client privilege. Whatever you tell me about what you've done in the past, I'm not allowed to tell anyone else, and no one, not even the court, has the right to require me to do so."
"OK, fine. I understand that. Why do I need a lawyer?" He asked, because it sounded a lot like this little guy was going to represent him in court. Did that mean they were going to charge him with burning down Sun Hill? Or even for attacking Evans? He couldn't imagine how that could happen. He'd set Sun Hill on fire in a clever way to make it look like an accident - the toaster shorted out, started a fire, the gas line burst, and the whole thing exploded. And he did it not only because the hellhole deserved to burn, but also to cover up the evidence that he'd attacked the Knot. He burned the blood-spattered shirt and set fire to the frying pan he used. It had been at the epicenter of the explosion. It couldn't have been more than a few pieces of dented and charred metal. And he doubted that Evans would press charges against him, since he himself had been accused of mistreating and sexually abusing the Omegas in his care, as well as some tax and other financial fraud. From what little she'd read on the Internet, she understood something about him taking money from the state for his indictments that he wasn't entitled to or something.
"For today's interrogation," his lawyer replied as if it were obvious.
"Wait! Wait! What interrogation?!"
Did the fucker really accuse him of something?! Or the police?! No, that wasn't possible, he took good care of the evidence.
"Routine questioning by detectives involved in the Sun Hill Omega Shelter investigation. Don't you know they're coming to question you today?" The lawyer asked, his eyes gliding over Dean's shoulder.
"No, I don't," he replied through clenched teeth. Again, the Alpha went around him and didn't tell him about his plans and what was to come. Just like with Alastair the other day. Fuck all that! Hadn't he made it clear to Cas that if their plans were going to work... if they were going to work together as a couple... then he needed to know about everything important? He was back in a situation where he had to adapt quickly just to make the Alpha look good.
He took a breath to add that he must have forgotten that when a hand came to rest on the back of his head in a gesture that was probably meant to be reassuring, and the air around him filled with the scent of cherry and honey. The soothing scent of his Alpha, but it didn't soothe him at all. On the contrary, it made him even more angry and he had to stop himself from flinching at the touch.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to stress you unnecessarily. You needed at least one night of rest," the Alpha explained in a deep, soothing voice.
Keeping his expression neutral, and what he hoped was his scent neutral as well, he turned to Case.
"If I had known about this, I would have told you right away that I wasn't going to talk to the cops," he paused, his thoughts turning to what Alpha knew about Sun Hill, what had been in the papers and what he could deduce from it, and the irritation he had felt up to that point slowly began to turn into fear. He didn't want Alpha to ever find out what the Knot had done to him in the kitchen. It was humiliating. Alpha would think that he wasn't good enough for Omega and that he was too weak to defend himself. He had to make sure that Alpha didn't even think that Evans would do to him what he had done to other Omegas, so he decided to tell the part of the truth that might cover up the rest of the truth:
"I have nothing to say to them, even if I wanted to talk. I spent most of the time I was there locked up in that closet in the kitchen. I don't know anything about what happened at Sun Hill.
A dark shadow crossed Alpha's face and something haunting flickered in his eyes, making Dean swallow hard through his tightened throat. And his scent turned almond bitter. The Alpha was angry, there was no doubt about it, only Dean didn't know if he was angry about being locked up or... if he was angry at him or disappointed that he wasn't strong enough to fight back against Evans. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Just keep quiet... He felt the urge to lower his eyes, to submit.
Suddenly, Cas leaned in and grabbed his chin, keeping their eyes locked.
"Evans is an animal and whatever you did to him was justified. Morally justifiable. This is about not punishing you in the name of some wannabe justice."
"I'm sure the detectives will ask questions about what happened at Sun Hill. If you don't want to, you don't have to answer them. The problem is..." Shurley chimed in, which Castiel appreciated with an annoyed grunt as Dean turned his head to the lawyer and wriggled out of his grasp, " that you're a person of interest in an arson and assault investigation. They'll use that to get you to talk about Sun Hill and maybe more," the lawyer added, making it pretty clear that he knew about Castiel's work, which... was probably understandable.
"That's why I agreed to meet with the detectives, and why Mr. Shurley is here. They cannot press charges against you, and not just for your own safety, but for mine...ours," he pointed out, his eyes glancing briefly at the two Betas sitting at the bar, watching them with an impassive expression all the time.
Dean glanced at them briefly, then his gaze shifted back to Castiel and finally to Shurley.
Looking at it rationally, and getting over the fact that Cas had once again put him in front of a fait accompli without discussing it with him, he had to admit that yes, he understood. Even though he was pretty sure they had no hard evidence, they could still investigate him, and if they investigated him, a man so close to Castiel, they could easily find out more about the Brotherhood.
"After this interrogation... will they stop caring about me?" He asked that important question.
"We will do everything we can. And we'll start by answering some questions," the lawyer began. "Alpha Evans has several serious injuries, and the arson investigator has not yet completed the investigation into the Omega Shelter fire. But Alpha Novak believes you are responsible for both. Is that true?"
He frowned involuntarily at such an open-ended question and turned his gaze to Alpha to ask if he should answer truthfully. Saying outright that he'd beaten someone almost to death with a frying pan and then burned down the whole house didn't seem like a wise idea, but the Alpha nodded in agreement and encouragement.
"Yeah, it is."
To the little Beta credit, surprise briefly flickered across his face, and he quickly regained his professional expression.
"I need to know how it happened. The more details the better," the lawyer urged him to do something he couldn't.
He couldn't say that the disgusting fucker had made him kneel down and open his mouth with his Alpha voice, or that he had rammed his cock so far down his throat that he almost choked on it. He couldn't do that in front of Alpha, and especially not in front of his men. He had to leave that part out. The rest... the rest he could say. Edit the truth to make it look real.
"Like I said... I was locked up most of the time. That night he came in, pulled me out of the closet and started beating me. Then I saw an opportunity. I grabbed a frying pan, hit him over the head a couple of times, and finally set the house on fire. That's all."
With each word, the fingers of the hand he had placed on his shoulder pressed harder into his scent gland. Finally, the grip was so strong that he was about to try to break free of Alpha's embrace, but at that moment, the grip suddenly loosened and Alpha let out a long breath, and the next moment, the rustling of cloth could be heard.
Dean didn't dare look directly at him, but he turned his head slightly to see Cas pulling a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lighting up. At the same moment, Sergei stood up and reached behind the bar where he pulled out an ashtray and placed it in Alpha's hand without asking before returning to his seat.
"How many times did you hit him?"
"Three or four times. I don't remember exactly. I hit him while he was conscious." He left out the part about wanting to bash Evans' head to a pulp, of course. He wasn't a psychopath or anything, and he didn't want the lawyer to think he was.
As with the first answer, Shurley made a handwritten note on his paper, then asked another question:
"And the fire...how did you start it?"
"My shirt was covered in blood. There were spatters that made it clear I'd hit Evans, so I doused the shirt and hoodie with flammable cleaner, put it in the toaster, turned it up to the highest setting, and let it go. Then I turned on the gas in the oven. It was a bit like a timer..." he remarked, earning a quizzical look from Beta. "The fire goes up and to the side, the gas goes down. I had plenty of time to get everyone out of the house before the gas got to the fire."
"Including Alpha Evans..." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"'Yeah, including him," he replied, a little more sharply than necessary. "I hit that fucker because he deserved it. I set that fucking hellhole on fire so they'd never send another Omega in there again. But I'm not a killer, okay?"
"I don't care what you did or didn't do, Omega Winchester. I'm your lawyer, and I would represent you even if you killed Alpha Evans. That's my job, and I get paid handsomely for it. I'm not judging you," he said matter-of-factly, only to move on to the next question, "You said you hit Alpha Evans with a frying pan. What happened to the pan?"
"I left it there," he answered curtly at first, but then decided to add a little more explanation. "It was old and had a wooden handle. It must have burned. They don't have my fingerprints, and they'd be hard-pressed to find a pan in the pile of charred debris left over from Sun Hill."
"You seem to have thought of everything."
"Da. Dean is smart and capable. You can treat him the same way you treat me," came from behind him before he could answer, and yes, there was definitely pride in Alpha's voice, so intense that it only made Dean turn to face Alpha, only to meet his warm eyes, half hidden under contented lids. His features were relaxed, the lines around his eyes deep, and his scent... Dean was surprised to find that beneath the sweetness of the cherry pie with almond sprinkles, there was a musky Alpha arousal.
It had an immediate effect on his Omega. She perked up excitedly because his Alpha was proud of him. He had to resist the urge to kiss Case right then and there, because that would be... well, probably not a good idea, but at least he moved his hand from her lap to his thigh and gave it a little squeeze, earning an amused grin. And the Alpha spread his legs, as if to invite him to touch him a little more. Damn, how did they get this far?
"Is that all?" Shurley interrupted.
Dean turned back to him. No, it wasn't everything, but it was all he could say.
"Yeah."
"Are you sure you didn't hide anything important from me?" He asked pointedly, and Dean shook his head. "Good." He closed the pen and put it in his breast pocket. "So far, I haven't heard of any charges being brought against you, and I don't think there will be. The circumstances are not favorable to the prosecution. You are an Omega minor who has been placed in the Omega shelter due to a failure of the state system, run by an Alpha who has already been charged with serious crimes. Abuse of a ward, neglect, sexual abuse and rape of a minor, and property fraud are just a small part of the list. Such a person does not inspire much public sympathy," the lawyer continued in a matter-of-fact and very professional tone. "Besides, there's a video circulating on the Internet of Alpha Evans being carried out of a burning house and helping other Omegas. You are a hero in the eyes of the public. Under these circumstances, it would be difficult to find a judge willing to issue a restraining order against you, and it would be equally difficult to find an impartial jury. And the public as a whole would take it badly if the prosecution brought charges against the victim of someone like Alpha Evans, especially if they did so with so little evidence against you. So you have nothing to fear if you follow my advice." He leaned over to the table, resting his elbows on its edge. "Answer questions about the conditions at Sun Hill and the things Alpha Evans did as truthfully as you can, but if the detectives ask about that fateful night, just say you don't remember much of it. And if they ask you a question you don't want to answer, just say you don't want to answer. You weren't subpoenaed in writing, so you're under no obligation to answer the questions. It's just an interview with the witness and the victim. If the detectives push or make accusations, don't answer and let me intervene. Our official position is and will always be that you did not attack Alpha Evans or set fire to the shelter. It's up to the police and the prosecutor to prove otherwise. Have you understood everything I have said?"
"Yes, of course I did."
Shurley looked at his watch. A Rolex, sort of, but not gold like Cas had, probably stainless steel or platinum.
"Detectives Alpha Sheridan and Ballard should be here in a few minutes. They won't be late. I told them it's either today or they won't get another chance to talk to Omega Winchester," he told the lawyer, to which Castiel put out his cigarette and turned to his men:
"Prinesite dva stula syuda. I Kot, kogda oni pozvonyat s resepshn, vy pridete za politseyskimi krysami."
Alpha's men immediately went to work. While Sergey went deeper into the room to get two chairs - they were low-backed black plastic ones, about halfway up the back, and looked like square eggs, upholstered in orange and yellow like everything else around them - Kot gathered up the ashtray and the glasses they drank from at the bar. The chairs were placed in the open space between the huge sofa and the bar, and Sergei sat down on the other side of the sofa. On the very edge of it. This prevented the cops from sitting next to them, and the only place they could sit was on the chairs or the bar that had been brought in. This would put the two detectives right in Alpha's sights and in complete control, just as he would be in control if they went deeper into his territory; the rest of Blue Sky.
"You've already spoken to Detectives Sheridan and Ballard, right?" The lawyer addressed him again.
"Yes, I spoke to them twice. Once when they came to Sun Hill and the second time briefly at the hospital."
"What did they ask?"
"First about Cas... about Alpha Novak and how and where we knew each other. I told them I'd met him at the store and we'd seen each other at meals a few times. And that he's my True Mate. And then at the hospital..." he paused slightly, hesitant to tell Shurley the truth. "I was the one who said I wanted to talk to them."
"Why would you want to talk to the police?" This time the question came from Castiel, and although he didn't sound angry, his voice wasn't even friendly.
"An Omega girl from the shelter... before the house burned down, she grabbed a computer.
Before the house burned down, she grabbed a computer from the office. She said there were some pictures and videos on it that would incriminate the son of a bitch and she wanted me to give them to the police. I knew these two detectives and this Beta... Ballard... she seemed like she could be trusted with it," he paused and sucked in air to check for an angry scent coming from Alpha, but it wasn't there. His scent did turn a little bitter, though, and the muscles in his face tensed. It was just a subtle change in expression that no one but Dean could notice. He tightened his grip on the hand still resting on Alpha's thigh and leaned forward a little, his head bowed and tilted to the side just enough to show his neck. "I wanted Evans to rot in jail. That's the only reason I helped them."
"Khorosha," Castiel replied, moving his hand from his shoulder to the back of his head. "For future reference, do not speak to the police without my knowledge. And always do it with a lawyer. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Alpha. I'll do what you say."
The scent of honey-roasted cherries wafted through the air, and Dean inhaled it contentedly when there was a slight clearing of the throat, as unpleasant and distracting as the limo. This time he managed to swallow the snarl because he wasn't surprised by Shurley's presence, but he shot him a crooked look.
"Detective Sheridan is an Alpha. Will that be a problem?" The lawyer asked the odd question.
Dean straightened, shook Castiel's hand from the back of his head - Shurley had been watching the Alpha's hand move for some reason - and frowned.
"Why would that be a problem?" He asked, knowing where the little Beta was going. He figured the Alpha would just use his dominance over the detective and Dean would sit back and answer questions like a docile and well-trained Omega. "I'm not in the habit of kissing the ass of Knots, and it doesn't matter that they're Knots with badges."
When the lawyer started to say something, he was interrupted by the phone ringing from somewhere behind the bar. Kot picked up the phone, and from the brief conversation he had with the person on the other end, Dean guessed he was talking to the receptionist, who told him about the police visit waiting downstairs. After Cas' man hung up, he got up and went to get the cops.
It wasn't long before the club door opened again and the detectives Dean already knew well came in, accompanied by Kot.
The first time he had met them, there had been a bigger threat in the area, and the second time he had a concussion, so he didn't perceive them as well as he should, whether he liked it or not. This time, however, he got a good look at them. They were typical detectives. He'd never talked to one, but he'd seen a few. Motels and hostels for the poor weren't exactly safe places, and it wasn't uncommon for someone to be murdered or die in the next room. So he knew what detectives looked like. Cheap suits and pantsuits, comfortable, scuffed boots on their feet, and belts from gun holsters and hooks on police badges. The Beta woman was wearing the exact pantsuit from the sale, several years old, and the Alpha - built, acting, and moving like a typical Alpha, except he smelled faintly because he was wearing blockers for sure - was wearing a cheap suit, and his right leg was bulging with his backup weapon.
The greeting was quick and curt. No one shook hands, the only one who spoke was Shurley, who also gestured politely to the chairs that had been set up, and... yes, of course the Alphas present did some of those poses, exchanging warning looks from eye to eye, and filling the air with a mixture of bitter almonds and hot tar that quickly dissipated in the large room and was carried away by the quality air conditioning.
Then the detectives sat down in the prepared chairs, and at the same moment, Castiel moved his hand from Dean's shoulder to the back of the sofa.
"It's good to see you again, Dean," the Beta detective spoke first, smiling kindly at him. "How are you?"
A common courtesy question, but she said it with enough emphasis, casting an eloquent glance at Case to make it clear that it was more than just a conversational turn of phrase.
"Very well, ma'am," he replied with appropriate politeness. "How else would I be?" He asked, still polite but a bit offended. "Look around... this all belongs to my Alpha, so you can imagine what his place looks like. My room is like a hotel suite. I'm having the best time. How about we cut to the chase? Let's get this over with."
"Sure, let's get to the point, but how about we do it more privately?" Alpha Detective suggested, looking around considerably.
"I'm Alpha Novak's attorney, and I'm also representing Omega Winchester at his request. And Alpha Novak himself, as Omega's legal guardian under the Omegas in Distress Act, has the right to be present at the interrogation. The other men..." Shurley smiled, "are club employees and local security. My client, Alpha Novak, doesn't mind being present for the interview."
"The important thing is if Dean is okay with it," Ballard pointed out.
"No, it doesn't," the lawyer replied simply. "Omega Winchester has been deprived of most of his civil rights and as such has no legal right to decide if, when, or under what conditions he will talk to the police or anyone else. The right to decide for him belongs to his Alpha guardian, and he has made the decision. Either you ask questions on the terms we've given you, or you leave and send a subpoena, but... you can be sure that I will use every legal means to make sure that Omega Winchester never speaks to you again. So what's it going to be?"
The Beta detectives exchanged quick glances, then pulled her cphone out of her pocket, turned on something - he'd already guessed it was recording - and set it on the table.
"Your lawyer, Mr. Shurley, told us you were willing to testify about what happened at Sun Hill," Detective Beta began. "We're going to record the entire conversation for the purposes of the investigation. Do you agree?"
He'd been there before, so he took a breath to answer in the affirmative when Castiel beat him to it:
"He's not authorized to agree, but I am, and I agree."
Both detectives looked at Dean's Alpha, but neither said anything about his statement, and then Ballard dictated the date and time and who was questioned and the round and who was present. A hell of a long list of people.
"Can you tell us what happened after you came to the shelter? And what the conditions were there?" Beta Detective began.
Dean pursed his lips. He didn't want to talk about that shit at all, and especially not in front of Cas, but the lawyer said he should talk about it, and he also wanted the Alpha shithead to rot in jail or have his Alpha turn him into fish food. Or both. He decided to tell the truth, just leave out that one particular thing. The night he wasn't supposed to talk about anyway. It was damn hard to open his mouth and admit how weak he was in front of everyone here. At the same time, his instincts and his heart told him to seek safety with Castiel.
He licked his lips and spoke:
"What you might expect... Evan acted like a typical Knotter. He wanted me on my knees, dragging me from place to place, talking shit about how he was going to impregnate me and I was going to give birth to his puppies," - the smell of almond bitter rage hit his nose, accompanied by the squeak of the velvet of the seat cushion as Castiel dug his fingers into it, but no growl came, and the Alpha did not move; a perfect example of self-control - "He stuck my head in the toilet bowl and then locked me in my room until morning" - he left out the part about the suppressants and their effects on him. - He continued to behave in a similar manner. He made me wear a collar and dragged me around the house by it. He made us all work there, gave us almost nothing to eat, and during so-called lessons he went on and on about how Omegas were inferior and had to obey Alphas and produce puppies by the dozen. Nothing you don't hear in every bar."
"Have you seen similar behavior towards the other Omegas in the shelter?"
What kind of stupid question was that? Did they think it only happened to him and the others had a field day? Hmm, he guess not, he guess they weren't that stupid. Probably some kind of routine question or some shit like that.
"Yeah, sure, he was like that with all of them," he replied, and after a short hesitation decided to add his experience from the lunch. "The youngest, Sibyl, got sick. Some kind of virus or something, you know how kids get sick all the time. She threw up about it at lunch and he made her lick it up."
There was tension on both detectives' faces and sympathy in their eyes, but they managed to maintain a professional composure. Dean guessed it wasn't the first time he'd heard things like that. After all, it was their job, if he understood correctly. To investigate cases of abuse of Omegas.
"Some of the Omegas at the shelter said that Alpha Evans was able to use the Alpha's voice and used it to control them. You've encountered that as well?"
"Yes."
Alpha's leg, where his hand still rested, moved and tensed. He really wanted to see the look on Castiel's face right now and what he thought about Evans being able to use Alpha's voice, but he didn't want to take his eyes off Ballard.
"He used it on you?"
"A few times," he admitted, but he left out the part where he'd been able to stand up to him. He didn't know if he could do it because he wasn't as 'proper' an Omega as most other Omegas, or if anyone could do it if they really tried, but from what he'd heard of the Alpha voice, it was supposed to be the epitome of absolute dominance. It was supposed to give the ability to dominate everyone, even Betas and less dominant Alphas. If that was true... well, it seemed like a good idea to keep it to himself that he could resist the Alpha voice.
"Now I have to ask you more private questions than I've asked before. Are you sure you don't want to talk privately?" Beta asked.
He didn't have to be very clever to understand what she wanted to ask. And he certainly wasn't going to let the subject come up. So far, he had been good at lying, and when he told a lie or left out a part of the truth, he didn't hesitate any more than anyone who had to talk about something bad that had happened to them. But if they ran him off with a doco... if they openly asked about who had bitten that disgusting Knot right on his dick, he wasn't sure he could lie well enough for even Castiel to believe him. He had the damned ability to know what Dean was thinking.
"I see what you're asking. And like I said at the hospital, nothing like that happened. Enough?"
"You got there just before your heat..."
"Whatever. He didn't touch me like that."
"Did he give you a suppressant?"
At the sound of the Alpha Detective's voice, he managed to stifle a startled jerk, but he couldn't stop himself from flinching. No, hell, no, he didn't want the Alpha to know that either, and from the waft of bitter odor and the way Castiel inhaled - through his teeth and through his throat, producing a deep growl, distinct enough for at least the other Alpha in the room to notice and react with a sharp look and a lift of his upper lip - it was a good thing he hadn't told his Alpha about it. He could feel the Alpha at his side seething with rage, and his inner Omega whimpered softly and turned onto his back. He had a damned strong urge to do the same. To show Castiel his submission, to bare his neck to him, and if Alpha accepted his offer, to hug him tightly and bury his head in his own throat, to give him a whiff of his Omega scent to calm him completely.
He couldn't do that, and if he thought about it, regardless of the suppressants, his body would do what biology told it to do and he would start pumping sweet Omega scents into the air and stink the place up. He hated it when that happened. He always felt so stupid and humiliated when he smelled like someone the Alphas instinctively wanted to take care of, but inside he was seething with nothing but rage and the desire to hit someone or something.
He removed his hand from Castiel's thigh, earning a sharp look from the blue eyes that had sunk into his temple, and - ignoring the look - shifted a little on the seat, away from the Alpha. Away from the smell of bitter almonds that filled his nose and clouded his thoughts.
"I don't want to answer that," he said firmly, half expecting the detectives to argue with him, but strangely they didn't.
"All right. We'll move on to the next question," Ballard said without much hesitation. "Let's talk about that night. The night the Sun Hill shelter burned down... what happened then?"
"I don't remember that night," he used that excuse confidently. If the first one had worked so well, this one might as well.
"You must remember something, Omega. In the video, you take everyone out and bring Alpha Evans out. And you warn the viewers that there's going to be an explosion. How could you know that?"
He shrugged casually.
"I guess I noticed the fire in the kitchen, and since there's gas in the kitchen... only a fool wouldn't think it could explode," he explained in what he thought was a perfectly logical manner, and to lend credibility to his words, he did what he always did when talking to Alphas; he feigned vulnerability. He forced himself to relax his shoulders and make himself smaller, tilting his head forward and to the side to get a better view of his neck, while his eyes wandered around something around the detective's feet, only occasionally brushing his cheek. He had always been good at this behavior, not because it was natural to him - God forbid! His Omega had always growled in displeasure and looked contemptuously at the Alpha, to whom he pretended to be submissive - but he'd become as good at it... as at picking pockets or shooting. He didn't have to think about every single move. His body made the movements on its own, following a learned pattern. This time, the resistance of his Omega and his instincts was greater than ever, and he felt so... guilty. Guilty of cowering in front of another Alpha when his own was within reach.
Damn it! Fuck this! How much easier it would be if Castiel wasn't here. If... if Cas had told him about this interrogation earlier, he could have told him that it would be better if he wasn't here. Easier.
"And the injuries Alpha Evans received? Do you know how he got them?" Ballard asked.
"And what did he suffer?" He played on the Beta Detective's innocence and ignorance; it was easy to pretend in front of her. "All I know is he was unconscious and I had his blood on my hoodie and shirt."
"He suffered multiple blunt force traumas to the head. It caused a concussion and even a radial skull fracture," the Alpha detective replied.
Despite the circumstances, Dean's corners almost twitched in a satisfied smile. Yes! A fractured skull! The Alpha fucker deserved it. And besides, he was proud of himself. Alphas had strong bones and hard heads. Crushing an Alpha's skull was quite a feat, and he definitely deserved an award, and he got one. His right hand smelled of sweet cherry and almond in an almost perfect interplay of anger and pleasure, and if he allowed himself a quick glance, he could tell that Castiel was angry, but also pleased and amused. He could see it in the subtle nuances of his face. Tom, the way the corners of his lips turned up slightly, his upper lip quivering as he suppressed the urge to grit his teeth, and his eyelids drooping.
"I don't know about that."
"I assume you don't know about his other injuries either," the Alpha detective said. It looked like he was going to be a bad cop or something today. And if he meant what Dean thought, he was one hell of a bad cop.
A cold claw gripped his gut, but he kept his expression and, he hoped, his scent neutral and lied without blinking:
"I don't know what you're talking about, and I had nothing to do with it."
"And if you try to imply otherwise, we will be forced to end this meeting," Shurley added.
"Alpha Evan suffered a specific wound in addition to his fractured skull; someone bit into his knot. Surely you can understand that this raises great questions," the fucking Detective Knothead said, glaring directly at Castiel.
"Don't answer on questions, Omega Winchester," came from Shurley, but no one was paying attention.
The two Alphas measured each other, and Sheridan had a look of challenge on his face. He wanted to provoke Castiel, and he knew how to do it. Nothing pissed an Alpha off more than learning that another Alpha had touched the Omega he considered his. And unfortunately, Castiel was no different from an Alpha in that regard, in fact, he was probably worse, because while most other Alphas just raged, Dean's Alpha killed. And he meant it literally.
The almond bitterness surrounding Dean was almost sickening. He'd only felt it once before, when they'd been in a bar together. He vaguely remembered it, and he vaguely remembered Castiel smashing someone's car and then breaking all the speed bumps. And that was just a small thing compared to what could happen now, considering that Alpha hated cops in general, and Sheridan especially bothered him for some reason. Probably because he was Alpha.
A low growl escaped Castiel's lips, his golden fangs gleaming as he bared his teeth. That made all the difference. The humiliation and the fear that the Alpha didn't want him anymore was still there, but it took a back seat to the need... instinct... to calm his Alpha down and, to be honest, to control him before he did something stupid like throw himself across the table and rip the other Alpha's throat out. Two dead cops would be a big mess.
Letting his instincts guide him, he placed a hand on Castiel's thigh, gripping tightly to draw attention to himself, and leaned in. The Alpha turned to him, their eyes locked, and Dean caught a faint whiff of his own scent. The sweet, comforting scent of Omega was far more noticeable to Castiel than it was to him, as evidenced by the way his nostrils flared and his pupils quickly dilated.
"Alpha... net," he said in a low voice, almost a whisper, using what little of the Russian he knew, surprising Castiel and further easing his rising anger. The worst was averted, so he turned to the other Alpha and looked him squarely in the eye. No more submissive, obedient Omega or any of that shit. No more damn fear and shame. Every single one of them already knew what had happened and what Dean had done, so he decided to be proud of it instead of ashamed. Maybe things would be different in a few minutes, but for now...
"These things happen when you stick your junk where it's not welcome. He was very lucky that he didn't lose it completely," he said without faltering in his voice or flinching from the Alpha's gaze and posture that the idiot Knothead was trying on him, and when he finally looked away, it was only to say to his Alpha, "I don't want to answer any more questions, Alpha."
"If you don't want to, you don't have to," Castiel assured him, turning to the detective. "This conversation is over."
"We have more questions. If Omega Winchester refuses to answer them today, we will be forced to summon him to the station," Ballard warned.
"Do that," Shurley urged them, standing up and clearing the way for them to leave at the same time. "And then we will use every legal means to avoid such a summons. Be prepared for a months-long battle.
"It would be a lot easier on everyone if you cooperated with us," Sheridan continued, but it was to no avail.
"We're leaving, Omega."
Those were the words Dean had been waiting for. He stood up, as did Castiel, almost immediately putting a hand to the back of his head. As soon as he did, Dean felt that familiar shiver down his spine and a sense of relaxation and safety and the weightless assurance that the Alpha was with him. Without anything else, not even a greeting, he simply walked between the bar and the chairs the detectives were sitting on and headed for the exit, the strong and protective presence of his Alpha at his back. And so he could and should have left, but a sudden realization almost stabbed him in the back. Shurley rattled off a list of charges against Evans, charges that had also been in the news, but one was missing. There was no charge of murder. He was sure that a lawyer would not have omitted such a serious charge from the list and that he would have known about it even if the police had kept it from the press. Or at least Dean thought he knew more than what was in the articles on the Internet.
He could and should have let it go, except... he couldn't let poor Gilda rot in an anonymous grave and Charlie search in vain for a long-lost girlfriend. Not to mention that the Alpha fucker deserved a life sentence.
Despite the grip around his neck and the Alpha's surprise, he turned and glanced from one detective to the other.
"Have you found Gilda yet?" He asked.
The confusion on their faces was telling enough and made him grin.
"Of the Omegas living at the shelter, only one girl is missing, and her name is Charlie," Ballard said.
"Yeah... well, that's not exactly true. Actually, there's another one missing named Gilda, but I know that Evans reported her to Social Services as a runaway. That's why nobody was looking for her. If you want to look for her... I suggest you start in the right corner of the backyard. I suspect she won't be hard to find. People never dig deep enough," he added, but he didn't wait for an answer, just turned and left Blue Sky, accompanied by his Alpha and his bitter scent.
Notes:
Prinesite dva stula syuda. I Kot, kogda oni pozvonyat s resepshn, vy pridete za politseyskimi krysami - Bring two chairs. And Kot, when they call from the reception, go get those police rats.
Chapter 66
Notes:
Thank you all for the comments, kudos, bookmarks and any other support you give me. I hope you know that I am grateful for all of it. And I try to show my gratitude mostly by writing as much as I can and occasionally adding a little something extra because... I'll be honest... I'm not very good at saying thank you directly. I often forget.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dean never thought it would take an infinite amount of time to climb a floor, but it did. The Alpha was quiet, tense, standing on the other side of the elevator, and there was a wicked almond bitterness in his scent, tinged with something sour. He wasn't sure if it was sour fear, but he feared it was disgust.
The Alpha was angry. The Alpha was disgusted. He was disgusted with Dean for being weak and letting someone else touch him. He knew this would happen when Alpha found out what he had allowed Evans to do. He fucking knew it. But it didn't hurt any less.
He closed his eyes and swallowed, his throat tightening. And he tried hard not to stink of misery and let the tears find their way out of his eyes. For a few hours, he had almost everything he could want. The Alpha he'd claimed as his own, a lair to nest in, safety, peace, happiness, and now he felt like it was all gone. The Alpha probably wouldn't even want to touch him anymore. Why would an Alpha like Castiel, strong, handsome, rich, want used goods?
"Omega... let's go," Castiel interrupted his dark thoughts with an order.
He opened his eyes to find that the elevator had probably stopped long ago, because Alpha was already standing in the hallway, clutching a map and staring at Dean with impatience on his face.
"Sure... sorry," he said and got out. His own voice sounded rather flat. He wasn't even surprised. His Omega sat silent, dejected as the former determination and anger left him. He felt miserable... no, that wasn't the right description. He suddenly felt tired and empty, and at the same time a little resigned to what was about to happen. Somehow he knew that the Alpha wouldn't give him up, not because he still wanted him, but because he was an Alpha and Alphas never gave up what they had already marked as theirs. Out of principle. He was also pretty sure that the Alpha considered him a suitable candidate for breeding puppies. This also seemed to be something that could ensure a safe and comfortable future for him. A puppy in exchange for being able to stay and contribute some of the money to Sammo's education, because the Alpha taking custody of the little Alpha didn't seem very realistic at the moment.
Sam... he had to take care of his brother and secure his future now. Think pragmatically. And as he watched Castiel cross himself before Jesus, he knew what he had to do.
The Alpha walked past him without a word, ran up the stairs, and headed for the kitchen. Dean followed him, watching silently as he pulled a bottle of moonshine from the cupboard. He decided to do it now, get the humiliation over with.
"I'm sorry."
Castiel turned abruptly, the bottle in his hand bearing the image of a yellow pear, and looked at Dean as if he had completely forgotten he was there and was now surprised by his voice. Dean decided not to give him a chance to speak.
"I'm sorry for what happened... for..." it was so damn hard to say, so he exhaled sharply and clenched his hands into fists. "I fought, okay? I bit him, I kicked him, I growled at him, I cursed him, I spat at him, I hit him... I did everything I could, but he... " he took a ragged breath as he ran out of words and air at the memory of the Alpha's voice and what he'd made the damn bastard do. "He used the Alpha's voice and I... I've never seen anything like it. I wasn't even sure it existed, and I never thought the Alpha voice could control a fucking wreck like him. You, my dad, or... yeah, Sammy could be that type... not the shithead, but still... " He licked his lips and blinked to wipe away the stupid tears. "He made me kneel... that night, there in the kitchen... I told him he'd pay for it, that I'd kill him, but he... I... it was just that, Alpha, I swear! I didn't do it willingly! I swear I didn't! You're the only Alpha... the only guy I've ever been with, and I don't want to be with anyone else..."
"Dean..."
"... I understand if you don't want me anymore. I really do. I'm not a proper Omega. I can't cook and nest and shit like that, but at least you could be sure that I wasn't with someone else. But now that I'm just used goods..."
"Omega!"
The power in Castiel's voice, the pure and solid Alpha dominance, but at the same time the absence of aggression or anger, was what not only broke the thread of his apology, but absolutely instinctively made him back away, lowering his eyes and showing his neck in surrender. And the sound that escaped his lips was definitely a whimper. He was fucking pathetic! A humiliated and subjugated Omega waiting for his Alpha's forgiveness, but at the same time, there was something comforting about it. There was a chance to relinquish control over what would happen now, to leave the judgment to Castiel. Leave it all up to his Alpha.
He heard a footstep approaching quickly, then saw the tips of his Alpha's boots in his field of vision and a cloud of honey coated roasted cherries surrounding him. Alpha wasn't angry? Alpha wasn't contemptuous or disgusted with him? It almost seemed that way. He would have called it premature hope and called himself a loser. As he stood there... waiting for the will of his Alpha. He clenched his hands into fists, thinking that he shouldn't act like this. After all, he wasn't that kind of Omega, was he? Was he like that for Castiel?
"Dine... lyubov' moya..." It sounded softly above his head, and a hand buried itself in his hair as the Alpha pulled his head close to him, lacing his head with his scent gland. The same one he'd marked with his mark yesterday. He still remembered the salty, cherry taste of the Alpha's skin as he rolled it between his lips and teeth. And the scent, a heavy, intoxicating mix of baked cherries, honey, almond crumble, and Alpha's musk, filled his nose and head, slowly, breath by breath, taking away all the anger, humiliation, and fear.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was pathetic to be soothed by an Alpha's scent and feel so safe, but the purr of his Omega drowned out all thoughts. Relaxing his clenched fists and tense shoulders, he lifted his arms to wrap them around Castiel's back.
The Alpha wasn't angry, and that was too damn wonderful to describe.
He hugged Case in praise, and the Alpha ran his hands through his hair in return before pulling away all too soon, only to grab Dean's chin and lift his face so their eyes met.
"Don't ever talk about yourself like that again, do you understand me, Dean?" It wasn't a request, it was an order, and Dean already knew in advance that he would obey. "Whatever happened, you came out a like winner. Nothing else matters."
It sounded absolutely ridiculous. Sure, he'd refused to let the Alpha fucker do anything worse than shove his dick down his throat, but he didn't feel like a winner.
Not after Castiel and his men... after...
"I'm not a winner." He took a step back, breaking free of Castiel's grip. "I didn't mean to..." This was so fucked up. He hated talking about all this emotional crap. "I didn't want you to ever find out because I didn't want you... to think I wasn't good enough anymore."
"Dean..." He took a half step forward and held out his hand, but Dean stepped back.
"How can you say I'm some kind of fucking winner when I couldn't defend myself? And that I couldn't now everyone knows...the cops, the little lawyer, you...and your men," he paused; all this time he had been thinking only of his own humiliation, only now it occurred to him that it must have been humiliating for Castiel as well. Right in front of his men, it had come out that he had taken another Alpha's cock in his mouth. It was almost as if he had betrayed him and everyone had found out. "I humiliated you. I humiliated you in front of your men..."
"Net, you didn't. Din..."
"Yes, I did. Everyone will now know that I had another Alpha's cock in my mouth. That I cheated on you. They heard it from those detectives..."
"They heard exactly what I heard," Castiel interrupted again, and when Dean took another breath in protest, he took a final step toward him and grabbed his shoulders. "You think you're the first and only?" He asked, a question that confused Dean. "For most of my men, prison is a second home because they went there when they were very young. At eighteen, nineteen. For someone that young, prison is very hard. If he gets there with the gang name tattooed on his skin, or if he's lucky enough to have someone like me take him in and accept him into the Brotherhood, he can get through his sentence unscathed, but if he doesn't... We don't even talk about it among ourselves. No one wants to be seen as someone's girlfriend. But we all know. And you can trust me that it's not about what Evans did to you," a small growl seeped through his words, but he didn't pause, "but what you did to him. You took revenge on him. You showed him and everyone else that anyone who tries that again will end up on the tip of your knife. You earned my men's respect, not scorn or derision." Castiel's hand moved to his cheek and his features softened, just as his eyes filled with warmth until they began to resemble a warm blue lagoon. "And you have earned my respect as well. I am proud of you. You've proven time and again that you're the one for me. My perfect Mate..." he leaned forward so Dean could smell the waft of warm cigarette breath, but also cherries roasted in honey. "Ty moy dar ot Boga, moy lyubov'..."
He closed his eyes and leaned into the caressing hand. It all sounded too beautiful. He didn't want to believe it, but when his Alpha said it, it was true. His tone didn't let Dean doubt it and for once he listened to the Alpha like a well-bred Omega, but still… He opened his eyes and looked into Castiel's face.
"Evans is still alive," he pointed out, pretty sure that if he killed him, it would mean a lot more than just crushing his skull with a frying pan and burning down his house.
"Yes, he is," Castiel agreed, his eyes growing cold and a growl creeping into his voice, adding to his accent. "He's alive, and I'm going to make sure he stays alive for a long time."
The answer took him completely by surprise. He frowned and grabbed Alpha's hand to pull it away from his face.
"What are you talking about? You don't want to kill him?" He couldn't help the anger creeping into his voice. All this time, he had imagined Castiel drowning the bastard alive in lye, or pulling out his teeth tooth by tooth and finger by finger, just like they talked about in the movies, and that nothing, not even the bars of a prison cell and the high walls of a jail, would stop him, and yet... he didn't want to kill the poor Knot? Wasn't everything he had just said true, and wasn't Dean really worth the effort?
"I want to, dorogay, I want to and I want to badly, but first he has to suffer and to suffer he has to stay alive." He bared his teeth in a wild expression that was mostly a smile, but the rest of it was something very animalistic. He radiated danger, which flowed like an undertone in his scent. Dean couldn't tell which of the subtle nuances in Alpha's scent it was, but he knew it was there. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins, his heart racing wildly, his gums starting to itch and his mouth watering with saliva and... hell yeah. His cock bucked in his briefs and his ass was getting wet faster than it had ever been before.
He inhaled Alpha's scent in full gulps and licked his lips.
"What are you going to do with him? Tell me..." he urged, digging his fingers into the front of his shirt. He was aware of a certain perversity in his need to know what torment was in store for Evans, and more importantly, how it turned him on, and he was also aware that he was clinging to Cas' shirt like a damned, clinging Omega, but what did it matter when his Alpha smiled a wolfish grin and a spark of amusement flashed in his eyes.
"Oh... takaya krasivaya i golodnaya..." the Alpha purred, a little amused but tender at the same time, running his nose over Dean's jaw as he inhaled his scent deeply. Dean just tilted his head, giving him full permission and access. Castiel took advantage of that to at least lightly brush his wet lips behind his ear before pulling away.
"It's going to be wonderfully cruel, because animals like him deserve nothing less and will get nothing less in prison," he said with a firm, cold promise in his voice that made Dean cringe. "I will have his fangs delivered to you so that no one will ever mistake him for an Alpha again, and his stunted knot and poor balls as well. I'll make sure he finds his place lower than the last prison bitch and snitch rat. He'll be under them. Every night. Reduced to nothing more than a filthy mattress with holes for every cock, and then... when he considers himself nothing more... only then, maybe, just maybe, will I mercifully let him suffocate on a rope of sheets hanging from the bars of his own cell."
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The voice and the bitter smell of almonds mixed with the sweet pleasure of what even Alpha imagined and liked to do... it was too much for Dean. He and his deliciously purring Omega were in complete harmony. He needed his Alpha. He needed to roll over onto his stomach and present himself to Castiel. He had never felt that need with anyone else, with any of the poor, smug Knots out there. He hadn't wanted to be filled to the brim and left with a swollen puppy belly, until now. It was an instinctive, deep desire that was in direct contrast to who he thought he was and who he had always tried to be. An independent Omega who didn't need anyone to take care of him because he could take care of himself. Who didn't want or need an Alpha. That's why it was hard to give in to this need, but he wanted to do it. Fuck, he had to do it. He'd made a promise to himself and he was going to keep it.
He grabbed Castiel's hair and kissed him roughly, all growls and teeth. Without hesitation, the Alpha jumped on the same wave, his deft and confident tongue sweeping across Dean's mouth, leaving the taste of cigarettes in its wake, and the sharp golden fang against his lip, adding the iron taste of blood to the smoky taste. And Dean's lip burned with sharp but pleasurable pain.
He pulled away from Alpha sharply, inhaled through wildly bared teeth, grabbed his blue tie and began to back away toward the bedroom.
"Let's go, Alpha. I want you to fuck me," he said clearly and loudly, trying to ignore the small, icy knot of fear that began to form in his stomach.
A small look of surprise crossed Castiel's face, but it was quickly replaced by a feral expression, and his irises took on a red tint. With any other Alpha, that would have been a warning to Dean, a signal to stay away, but not with Case. Not anymore. Castiel wasn't like fucking Evans, and he wasn't like that poor bastard in Maine. He could trust him, and he didn't have to worry even if his Alpha went wild, because... yeah, fuck yeah, he felt like he could handle his Alpha, and that thought... damn, he felt so incredibly powerful when he had someone like Cas in his hands.
He kissed him again. And as he made his way back into the bedroom, he did everything he could to get rid of that stupid tie and get down on his bare skin. And Cas didn't lag behind. They merged into a stumbling ball of groping hands and a struggle for supremacy that only ended when Dean hit the edge of the bed and was knocked down with a grunt.
Out of breath, he looked up at Alpha, towering over him, eyes red, sharp fangs completely out of his gums, grinning broadly as he pulled his shirt off his shoulders, revealing skin adorned with an endless array of ink drawings. He was so damn magnificent. So powerful. Dean didn't know where it came from, but he groaned and rolled his head to the side to show his neck.
The Alpha grunted in satisfaction, and the sound sent a jolt of excitement straight to Dean's achingly hard cock, causing his ass to clench in need.
"Alpha... Cas..." came out of him shakily. Only with Castiel did he feel so detached from reality. So lost in his perfect cherry scent. No other scent had that effect on him.
Alpha leaned against him. Finally. His slender, tattooed fingers quickly unbuttoned Dean's jeans, and then Cas pulled them off his hips with one tug, along with his briefs. Dean willingly helped him and when it was done, he fell back onto the bed and spread his legs, his feet propped up on the edge of the bed to show Alpha everything he had. His hard cock and leaky ass.
"Ty takoy krasivyy... takoy sladkiy... i tol'ko moy..." sang Alpha, and though Dean only understood a little, he knew for a fact that he was being praised by his Alpha, and it was so ridiculously satisfying that he would do anything at this point to hear it over and over again.
Castiel put a hand on his leg and leaned down to kiss his knee, and then, his cheek pressed against his knee, he smiled and commanded:
"Show me that you are mine, Omega. Present yourself to me."
It would have been an insult from anyone else, but to hear it from Castiel's mouth was something he really wanted to do. He didn't hesitate for a moment, rolling over onto his stomach and crawling on all fours to the middle of the damn bed, where he presented himself to his Alpha. He rested his chin on his hands, spread his legs and stuck his ass in the air. It was a position of vulnerability that was strangely exhilarating. To have to trust the Alpha who approached him from behind. To submit to him and let him do what he wanted. And then to remain tied to him in a knot and thus completely in his power. He didn't really understand how he could enjoy such a loss of control, but there it was. His heart beat wildly, his blood roared in his ears and his Omega purred in his head. And over that ghostly noise he could hear the rustle of fabric as the Alpha approached from behind, his deep, satisfied growl, and finally the clank of his belt and the creak of his zipper.
Then a warm hand gripped his hip, a body pressed against his thighs from behind, and Castiel's hard cock rubbed against his balls and ass. He shivered at the combination of touches. It was a shudder of need, but he also felt his throat and insides tighten a little, and a small voice of fear, but mostly rationality, echoed. They needed a condom at the very least. If he'd had his head on straight, he was pretty sure there wouldn't have been a puppy accident at this point, but after that horse dose of suppressants... He didn't know how much it had screwed up his cycle, or if it had completely erased his heat or just pushed it.
"Condom..." he said, and yes, he subconsciously remembered how the Alpha had been against it the last time they'd been in this situation.
But this time it was different. He let out a frustrated growl, but without a word he rolled over to the side of the bed and reached into the drawer of the bedside table, where he pulled out a condom. Dean only caught a glimpse of the silver flash of the wrapper, not the brand, and then Alpha was behind him again, hand on his hip. And this time his lips met. Cas showered his back and ass with wet kisses and growled into his skin. It felt good, but to be honest, Dean would rather get to the point before his courage got the better of him and before the confusing urge to submit that was beginning to dissipate completely. Much to his chagrin, because it made everything easier.
"Come on, Alpha. Fuck me. You have to," an urgent voice rolled over his lips.
"Do I have to? Aren't you a little bossy Omega?" Alpha asked amused. "I don't have to do anything, you understand?" this time there was a little bit of darkness in his voice, but his scent remained sweet and musky, with no hint of bitterness to let Castiel know he was really angry. And the hand that landed on the back of Dean's head, holding his head down, was strong, but it was a gentle touch. "I will graciously give and you will humbly take, Omega. And you will thank me gratefully for all. For my cock that will spread you open, for the knot that will plug your wet hole, and for the cum that will fill your greedy insides. That's the way it's going to be and that's the way you want it, isn't it, moy Omega..." He asked, really asked, and Dean nodded as much as the pressure on the back of his head allowed.
"Yes, I do, Alpha. I want you to be my first. You have to be, because... I... I'm afraid..." the words caught in his throat. No... No! No! No! That was the wrong word. He didn't want to say it and he shouldn't have. He knew it even before the Alpha's body on his back stiffened, the searching hand stroking his hip stiffened, and the thumb circling his neck stiffened as well.
"Are you afraid...?" It was only half a question, and the tone in which the Alpha asked it...
The mood began to sour, and again it was Dean's fault. He'd screwed up again.
"No!" He said quickly, trying to hold back the Alpha who was already starting to get up. "Not you! Not this! I want it, I really do. Right now. I don't want to wait anymore and I can't..." Damn job! The Alpha behind him was stiff and tendrils of sourness and the smell of rejected Alpha began to appear in his scent, which was funny because here was Dean repeating over and over how much he wanted him. So why was the damn Alpha pulling away when his Omega was begging him to do the opposite? And the worst part was that it seemed like if he didn't explain to his idiot Alpha, he would screw everything up again and who knew what Cas would think afterwards.
He felt utterly stupid as he let out a sigh and sank belly down on the bed, feeling very uncomfortable as his hard cock pressed into the mattress. At least Cas followed suit, his warm body resting on his back.
He licked his lips. This was going to be awkward as usual.
"I never wanted an Alpha, okay? Or anyone with a dick. My ass was supposed to be," he grinned, a little amused, but mostly to cover the shame he felt talking about such things, and he was very glad Castiel couldn't see his face right now, "like a fucking Holy Grail that no one will ever see or get. Yeah, I know it's ridiculous, and you can laugh all you want. I'll wait..."
"I don't think it's ridiculous," was Alpha's short reply, and he didn't even sound remotely amused, which was worse in a way. In fact, he sounded like he was taking Dean's words far too seriously, and that was absurd.
"If you think... everyone else, especially Alphas, finds it funny. And it seems ridiculous to me, too, and somehow I've always known... sometimes here in this corner..." he tapped his finger against his temple, "that it was going to be different anyway, whether I wanted it to be or not. And then you showed up and I suddenly... at some point..." he gritted his teeth. "Fuck that! I wanted you to be the only one, and then when I got to the damn shelter, I wished you'd at least been the first. Because... Cas... I don't... I couldn't stand it if it was someone like that loser Knot from Sun Hill. And it could have been him or someone like him. Any streetwise bastard I can't resist. I'll just... please... stick a dick up my ass. That's all I'll ever ask."
He let out a slow breath. Just like that, it was out, and he could hear the uncomfortable silence deepening behind him. He thought Alpha was a stupid, clingy Omega, whining about his first time here? Because that was exactly what Dean thought of himself.
"Turn to me," Cas urged and stood up to allow him to do so.
He didn't even think about disobeying and just turned to face the Alpha who towered over him, looking up at him with blue eyes that held no mockery, no anger, but no warmth. They were sad and tired, and so was Castiel's expression. That worried Dean.
"Alpha...?"
"I want you to really want this, not present yourself to me out of obligation or fear."
"What?" He was confused for a moment, but then everything clicked and he was a little annoyed. "I'm not doing this out of obligation!"
"No, not out of obligation, but out of fear, yes."
"What does it matter?" He replied immediately. "I want it, no matter why. You want it. So what's the problem? Just..." He didn't finish, just put his hand behind Castiel's back and tried to pull him close. The word "tried" was the most important one in the sentence, because he couldn't move him an inch. He was like a solid rock towering over Dean, supported by the strong roots of his sinewy arms.
"No."
The single word stung a sensitive spot. His Alpha didn't want him, even though he gave in, and it made his whiny inner Omega whimper and huddle and mumble something about having to do whatever it took to get his Alpha back. Dean had had enough. He'd had enough of letting his stupid Omega instincts drive him to his imaginary knees again and again, often literally sticking his neck out for Castiel. He'd done it so many times in the last two days that he couldn't even count, and the Alpha didn't appreciate it one bit, dismissing him for completely stupid reasons.
He refused to feel bad, pushed the feeling and his omega back, and let the anger bubble to the surface.
"What the hell... why not? I'm here, I want it, my ass is leaking like a goddamn fountain, and you... do you like drying knot or something?"
Castiel bared his teeth and let out a small, rather warning growl, to which Dean responded in kind, refusing to comply or pretend that he might regret his words. Rejection hurt him, and insulting him would hurt the Alpha idiot all over again. That, after all, was Castiel's own lesson; you hurt me and I'll hurt you or the one you love.
"No, I don't like drying the knot, but I find I enjoy conquering you," Castiel replied after several long seconds of measuring himself against each other, and as always, being ridiculously literal. About everything. And then poetic or something. Conquer...? Who talked like that today?
"Conquer? We're not on Bridgerton!" He growled, and he could tell by the tilt of his head and the wrinkle of confusion between Alpha's eyebrows that he hadn't understood the reference at all. On top of that... He wasn't in the mood to explain, and his stupid Omega started punching his way out again. "You know what? Forget it. You don't want me, I'm not going to force myself on you," he said firmly, mostly to hide the fact that the feeling of rejection was starting to choke him again, and tried to break free of Castiel's grip, only to have him grab him by the hips and pull him back.
Dean did exactly what he was trained to do; he growled and tried to fight back. He did it weakly, though, he knew he would, so he wasn't surprised at all when the Alpha grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms into the pillow. And bared his teeth in warning. This time he let himself calm down and just stared defiantly into the deep blue lagoon.
"Stop and listen to me," he ordered, whereupon he leaned down and inhaled Dean's scent. "I'm not rejecting you, dorogay. I will never reject you. I want you so much it hurts me. You drive me crazy... ty sladkiy yad v moikh venakh Vy ponimayete menya? Do you understand?" he said urgently, his voice deep and a bit growling and so intense that it made Dean shudder. "I want you for many reasons, and one of them is that you are the first person in many, many years to reject me. Not once, not twice... but so many times I can't even count. Well, it frustrated me at first," he admitted more matter-of-factly than intensely, "but then I got the hang of it. It appealed to me and my Alpha that I had to win you as my Mate first, and then win the honor of having you bear me a puppy or more, God willing."
"Sounds silly," he muttered, because it was silly, but at the same time, Castiel's words filled him with warmth and a sense of being special in some way. And something everyone would like to feel.
"Da... da, it sounds kind of silly these days, but that's just the way it is. You, moy Din," he looked at him seriously, warmth in his eyes and tenderness in his face, "are different from the other Omegas. You are strong, and you choose carefully to which Alpha you surrender and when. I want you to be sure."
He closed his eyes. On the one hand it made him proud that the Alpha had spoken so stupidly, on the other hand he felt incredibly embarrassed. And both caused a blush to spread from his burning ears down his neck to his shoulders. He could feel his skin burning there.
"Okay... okay... fine. Now shut up! It's embarrassing..." he said, looking away, his head dropping to the side, inadvertently showing his neck. All the while, he mentally wondered if he had just insulted Alpha. His thoughts were interrupted by a wet kiss on his throbbing jugular vein and shame-hot skin. And he was a little surprised by the smile he felt on his neck.
"But I'm not saying we can't have a good time until then," Cas whispered in his ear, his tone quite cheerful and a bit challenging.
Dean's corners twitched in a smile. Despite the brief distraction, the air around him was mostly sweet happiness and double excitement and still sex, and honestly, even if his cock was a little flaccid, it wasn't soft at all, and jumping on the easy wave seemed like a good escape from shame.
"Only if you don't get bored quickly without my ass, Alpha," he shot back just as easily, actually rejoicing in his mind at being able to talk so easily. And also a little relieved.
"Ah... nevezhestvo molodezhi. There's lots of activities in lots of places we can have fun with, believe me," Cas promised, pulling away a little, but only enough to grab Dean's chin, turn his face to himself, and kiss him.
Notes:
Ty moy dar ot Boga, moy lyubov' - You are a gift from God, my love.
takaya krasivaya i golodnaya - so beautiful and hungry
ty sladkiy yad v moikh venakh. Vy ponimayete menya? - You're sweet poison in my veins. Do you understand?
nevezhestvo molodezhi - The uneducated young
Chapter Text
He slowly traced the tattooed drop of blood with his fingertip. The ink was clearly defined, the red was indeed blood red and the black was as intense as a starless night. It must be a new tattoo.
"How old is that?"
"Hmm?" Castiel hummed, lifting his hand slightly from where Dean rested on his arm to look at the tattoo. "Less than three years."
"I thought so," he said, satisfied that he had guessed it was a new tattoo. "Why did you get it done?"
"Why? You know what it means. I told you before..." There was a slight, but definitely impatient irritation in his voice.
Dean rolled his eyes, even though Alpha couldn't see it because he was lying next to him, and just because he couldn't see it, he rolled onto his stomach and raised himself up on his elbows to look at Castiel meaningfully.
"I know what it means, but I'm wondering why you had it done three years ago. I mean... it wasn't for a milestone, because sixty-two is not a milestone. Sixty or sixty-five, those are milestones that you get a tattoo for. So why three years ago?"
Castiel took a drag from his cigarette, and as he slowly puffed the smoke toward the ceiling, his gaze still fixed on Dean's eyes, he tapped one of the stars on his chest.
"Promotion here in New York. I couldn't do my old job anymore."
Dean moved closer and looked curiously at the stars. Yeah, they were bright black, too, and the ink was just as clearly delineated and quite a contrast to most of the lines on the cross - some were a little blurred, but others were just as starkly black and perfect as the stars - and with epaulets that, while not as time-marked as the cross, showed they had been through something. He glided his eyes over the intricate ornamentation and on, past the thick, dark hair sticking out of Castiel's armpit on the inside of his upper arm, until he came upon...
"It's bees!" He exclaimed, surprised and laughing at the same time.
His rugged Alpha Mafia boss had two cute bees sitting on a honeycomb tattooed on his armpit. It wasn't one of those tiny, blurry tattoos you get as a joke when you're so drunk you can't even see. It was a detailed tattoo, with antennae and knuckles and everything.
"I like bees," Alpha said, as if that explained everything.
"Of course you do!" Dean laughed. Of course Cas had to like something weird. He wouldn't be himself if he didn't.
"They're fascinating creatures. They're organized, efficient, important..."
"... And they're all girls, Cas. Literally not a dick in sight," he couldn't help but add with an amused grin, arching an eyebrow noticeably as he did so.
The Alpha blew smoke as he rolled his eyes, but his corners also twitched in a smile, looking relaxed and content. The amused smile on Dean's face turned into a satisfied one as his Omega grunted in amusement at Case's amusement, then dropped his face right onto the bee tattoo. The sweet smell of roasted cherries tickled his nose, admittedly with a hint of sweat, but so what? After not bathing, for two days, and sex gymnastics, he probably didn't just smell like apple blossom alley either.
Castiel's hand came up and wrapped around his back, so that he could feel a thumb circling his shoulder through the fabric of the T-shirt he was still wearing, and with that, Alpha took a last drag and extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray he kept to his right. He leaned to the side, drawing Dean's attention to the not very noticeable tattoo on his left hip. It was in Russian script, which wasn't so strange, since Castiel had a whole column of Russian letters on his stomach. But it was three words, two of them followed by four numbers, and one of them followed by eight numbers, four of them separated by a hyphen. Each word looked like it was written in a different font, and together with the digits... It looked like the kind of birth - and death - dates you might find in a textbook under pictures of famous people.
He frowned and ran his fingers over the words without thinking. Were they people's names?
"Moya sem'ya... my family. Your name will be added as soon as possible, but first I have to teach you how to write it in Azbuka," Cas explained what was there... well, at least partially explained what was tattooed there... but also why each word was so different.
He did a quick calculation and some guesswork, and finally his fingers rested on the tattoo that had both a birth and a death date. Nineteen years separated the year of Castiel's birth from the date of this person's birth. It could have been his father or his mother, but Dean leaned toward his mother.
"Your mom," he said thoughtfully, then ran his fingers over the other two names. One had a date only four years older, and the other was twelve years older, and there was no date of death. The first had to be Gabriel. He was Castiel's older brother, but he didn't look sixty, so he had to be the younger of the older brothers. The last name had to be another brother of Cas. He definitely had other brothers. He had once mentioned that his 'brothers' called him Castiel.
"And your brothers...?" He half-asked, looking up only to meet the impassivity in Castiel's eyes, dark and still, like a blue lagoon on a windless night. And though there was nothing of anger or warning in the Alpha's expression, for some reason, Dean felt a strong urge to lower his eyes and his head. He didn't give in just because Castiel had turned away earlier and started to get up.
"Come on. We need to shower and get going. We have some errands to run," he said as he got up.
"Where are we going?" He asked curiously as he sat up.
"To buy a collar and to register you," the Alpha said without the slightest embellishment.
"You're going to buy me a collar?" He wasn't so much annoyed as surprised, because what the hell...?
"Da. Of course," the Alpha replied, looking down at Dean with a completely calm expression, as if the idea of putting a collar on him didn't bother him at all. Yeah, why would he be upset? He was a damn Alpha that Dean liked to mark with a good hickey and scent, so why should he mind putting a collar on him to further show the world that he owned this Omega.
But Dean wasn't going to wear a damn collar. He wasn't a dog, he was a man. A full-fledged, intelligent and perfectly healthy human being who knew how to take care of himself, and the fact that he had a few extra organs in his belly and his ass could get wet didn't make him any less.
"I'm not wearing a damn collar!" He snarled through bared teeth, showing Alpha where he could stick the collar.
"It's the law. You have to wear a collar with a registration chip."
"The law? Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked, more mocking than angry. Hearing Case talk shit about laws and legal obligations was like listening to the cheapest hooker lecture him on restraint. "You're the one who's going to talk about the law. You run a crime cartel and you've killed at least sixty-two people. You're not exactly a law-abiding citizen."
"I am a law-abiding citizen when it comes to Alpha custody. I'm not going to risk having you taken away from me and sent to prison, which means I'm going to buy you a collar and you're going to wear it whether you like it or not," he said with a firmness that made it clear Den had no choice, but he wasn't going to back down.
"Fuck you! I'll never wear a collar again. Especially not voluntarily. You'll have to force it on me!" He gritted his teeth, putting himself in as defensive a position as the fact that he was sitting up in bed would allow, putting him at a disadvantage against the Alpha. And a bitter scent of anger began to waft through the room, which honestly had a hint of sour fear in it, something that only annoyed Dean. He wasn't afraid! He was just angry that the Alpha wanted to collar him. Not again. He hated the feeling of a collar. The humiliation of being dragged from place to place by it. The way the hard skin bit into his scent glands and his jaw.
He dreaded the thought and the memory, the click of the lock as Knot fastened the collar, and the rescuers having to use damn big scissors to get rid of it.
And...and he felt betrayed that Castiel, his Alpha, wanted to be just like damn Evans and make him wear the collar.
A shadow of anger crossed Castiel's face and his scent filled with a bitterness that sizzled as he took a step back toward the bed and leaned in a little, probably to intimidate Dean, which didn't work. He continued to stare defiantly into his eyes, gritting his teeth. The Alpha opened his mouth, probably to say something, but then stopped, his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. It didn't take a second for his expression to change. It softened, and Alpha let out a long breath.
"Din... you just have to wear a collar in public. If you don't, you'll get us both into trouble. I won't make you wear one at home, da?" He suggested quietly, something that seemed like a compromise if Dean was thinking rationally, but he couldn't.
"I won't wear it inside or outside. I just won't."
Castiel straightened, the softness in his features turning to cold impassivity.
"I'm not going to argue with you anymore, Omega. The law is the law, and you will obey it. If you don't like the law, write your congressman and stop taking your anger out on me," he said coldly, flatly, impassively. "I'm going to take a shower and then go buy a collar. You can either come with me and pick one you like or stay home and sulk. The decision is yours,” he added, and without anything else, he simply turned and walked into the bathroom.
Dean stared defiantly at the door as Alpha closed it behind him. He had a hundred urges to throw something at the door, in Castiel's direction, but he knew only too well that it would be pointless. The Alpha was determined, and yeah, Dean might have resisted his decision - though of course his Omega urged him otherwise, wanted him to submit to his Alpha's decision - but what would be the result? Castiel was right, whether Dean liked it or not. It was the law, a terribly shitty law, not Cas' own invention, and if they didn't follow the law, he could lose everything he had now and end up in prison. That wouldn't be good for him, Cas or Sammy, who would have to stay with foster parents. Giving in was the only reasonable solution, and Dean was trying to be reasonable.
"Fuck it!" He growled to himself, pounding his fist on the bed.
The thought of having a collar around his neck again made his insides clench with rage, disgust and a touch of fear, because he already knew that he would do what had to be done. And... after all... the collar he would have to wear wouldn't be the ugly, big, hard thing the Alpha fucker had put on him. It would definitely be something fancy and luxurious, because he was pretty sure that Alpha wouldn't give him something ugly and cheap. Well... it wouldn't be cheap, but it could be pretty ugly. Some kind of golden, tacky monstrosity. Something like Cas's thick gold chain bracelets and necklaces with huge gold crosses. He'd be embarrassed to wear that, even if it was velvet-backed and comfortable.
He sighed resignedly, ruffling his hair. Not only would he have to wear the damn collar, he'd have to pick one if he didn't want to look like a complete asshole.
Reluctantly, he rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom with a scowl on his face.
When he walked in, Cas had just pulled off his pants and tossed them on the marble counter next to the sinks, his fingers hooked into his boxers to pull them off as well, but catching Dean's reflection in the mirror, he turned and gave him a questioning look, eyebrows raised, head tilted slightly to the side.
"Fine. I'll wear the collar. On two conditions," he said, holding up a finger. "I'll only wear it when I go out."
"Khorosha. I have no problem agreeing to that," Cas replied, much softer than he'd spoken before, but serious in tone at the same time.
"Okay... well... the other condition is that I don't want any golden monstrosity. Okay? I want something that fits my style," he said, which was a bit... well, his carefully honed style went to shit the moment all his stuff burned. Now his clothes were completely plain, and while he was okay with that, they were just T-shirts and jeans, so... hey, he could buy some nice T-shirts with Nirvana, ACDC, Led Zeppelin, Linkin printed on them... and maybe this time they could be real. Like, licensed and everything. It wasn't like Alpha couldn't afford to spend thirty bucks on a shirt, because Dean could bet that one of his shirts was worth a lot more.
A small amusement twitched at the corners of Castiel's eyes.
"I was thinking black leather and silver or platinum."
Dean frowned, still not liking the idea of a collar, but then sighed resignedly and nodded. If it was something thin with silver studs, it might look more like a necklace, and since he didn't exactly look like an Omega, people might not immediately think it was a collar some Alpha had given him.
The Alpha took his silent nod as sufficient agreement and thus the end of the discussion, so he just pulled off his boxers and threw them into the fine laundry basket in the wall. Then he sat down on the toilet bowl and began to remove his socks. And Dean just stood there and watched, a little stunned and a little fascinated. He watched the muscles move under the tattooed skin, making some of the pictures seem to come to life. The stars on his knees, for example, almost seemed to twinkle. He looked down from the stars...
"Damn! You don't have fingers!" slipped out before his brain caught up with his mouth and he could stop himself from commenting a little softer. That is, if there was a way to subtly mention that someone was missing both little fingers and part of the ring finger on their left foot.
Castiel looked up at him, confused.
"Yeah, I'm missing three toes. Did you just notice that?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in question.
He opened his mouth and closed it again. Yes, he had just noticed it, which was really weird considering how often he'd seen Cas' dick. Ha! That was it! He'd seen his cock, but not his feet, because he always wore socks.
He snapped and pointed a finger at Alpha.
"I've never seen you without socks on!"
A small furrow in his brow let Castiel know he was thinking.
"Hmm... you're probably right," he agreed, getting up to toss the socks into the wash. "I usually keep my socks on because people find my feet rather creepy," he explained, his gaze fixed on his own feet, and he curled his toes, drawing Dean's attention back to his missing toes.
The scars on the horse's stumps were old, faded, and even looked like someone had tried to stitch them up. So it was a safe bet that the Alpha hadn't gone to the hospital for that, and maybe he'd even sewn the wounds himself. That wouldn't surprise Dean at all. But there was still one question...
"How did you lose them?"
"I'm good, but I make mistakes too," was Alpha's confused answer before he realized what he probably meant.
"So wait... did your own men do this to you? To you?"
"I wasn't always who I am now. I started out like everyone else, at the bottom of the hierarchy. In a tiny one-room hole in one of the worst neighborhoods in Moscow, where there wasn't even a shower, no hot water, and my toilet was next to the kitchen sink. And by that I mean there was really only a toilet bowl. It had taken a lot to get where I was, and I'd lost a few things along the way, including a couple of fingers, he said as if nothing had happened, and he bent the stump again; there was something morbidly fascinating about the way the tiny ring finger moved. "I'll tell you about it someday, but for now, get undressed and get in the shower."
Dean tore his gaze from the scars, looked briefly into Alpha's eyes, and then down at his own shirt. It was the only thing he was wearing, so his flaccid cock hung out ridiculously from underneath, and more importantly, his entire legs were visible, including the bruises on his thighs and knee. Castiel hadn't commented on them before. Dean could tell he'd noticed them just by the fact that when he'd kissed him there, he'd done it gently. They were almost butterfly kisses - a completely silly comparison to the person himself, and in the context of Cas it sounded even more absurd. He hadn't seen the bruises on his body, though, because Dean had been wearing a T-shirt the whole time, only pulling it off when Alpha wanted to show off his brand. The bruises from the kicks would make their debut.
He grabbed the edge of the shirt and pulled it off in one motion.
The anger drained out of Alpha in a waft of bitter almond scent and a deep but low growl, but otherwise he remained relatively calm and walked relaxed as he approached Dean, only his shoulders were a little stiff. He must not have wanted to scare Dean or anything, because then he wrapped his arms very gently around Dean's waist and placed his palm lightly on one of the bruises.
"For every one of your bruises, he gets a hundred of them. Ya klyanus' tebe, dorogay," he promised and pressed a warm kiss into his hair.
With a sigh, he lowered his head, savoring it for a moment, then raised it again and wrapped both arms around Case's waist.
"He also took the cross you gave me. I'm sorry I lost it. I know it meant a lot to you."
"I see," the Alpha said, running his fingers over his chest where the cross would have been. "I'm sorry you don't have it anymore, too, but... " He ran his hand down his neck, supporting his chin with the back of his forefinger and stroking his chin and lower lip with his thumb. "The fact that you're alive and with me is more important. Besides," he raised his eyebrows slightly, "maybe the cops will find it after all. I'll tell Shurley to ask for it to be released from the evidence room."
"And they'll just give it back to you?"
"Sure. It's my property and has no direct connection to the crime. They have an obligation to release it to me, even if it could take weeks or months." He frowned a little at that, but except for a lingering bitterness as he worried about the bruises, there was no longer any anger in his scent. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. Now go...!" He urged, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and before Dean knew it, a hand landed on his bare pulse, nudging him toward the shower.
"Hey! Private property!" He shouted in would-be indignation.
The Alpha bared his teeth and snarled playfully.
" Yes. My property!"
Dean didn't really want to argue with that, he just bared his teeth in a similarly playful growl and arched both his eyebrows and his ass to lure his Alpha into the shower behind him.
°°0°°
"I should give you half my closet."
Dean lifted his head in surprise from staring at his bag, trying to pick out something to wear. Something decent to wear, that is. Looking at all of Cas' clothes next to him made him feel terribly inadequate. Or rather, what he really was; a poor kid from the streets. It hadn't bothered him so much before, probably because he hadn't lived with Castiel and so their relationship hadn't seemed all that real, or maybe it was the fact that he at least had his own clothes. Things he liked and wanted to wear, even if he bought them cheap or picked them up at a charity sale.
With his T-shirt in his hand, he looked around.
"That's okay. I don't have much anyway."
"Yeah, but that'll change soon," Castiel replied, pulling the shirt over the purple tag on his shoulder. "You're beautiful, Dean, and you deserve to have nice things," he said with a ridiculous earnestness that made Dean's ears warm, then wrapped his arms around Dean's waist from behind, resting his chin on Dean's shoulder. "Now I can give you anything you want, da? Just tell me what you want..."
He hesitated a little. He didn't want that much, so why not indulge himself.
"Hmm... how about some rock t-shirts, a leather jacket and some decent shoes? You know, leather, military or hunting. I'd like that."
"That's it?"
"Flannel shirts would be nice," he said, pausing, his thoughts turning to how he would look next to Alpha in such an outfit. Even if he spent thousands, as long as he stuck to his style, he'd always look like a poor street kid or a lumberjack next to Castiel. And in general, it wasn't a very presentable outfit, or at least he didn't think it was an outfit he could wear to a fancy restaurant.
"And probably some... formal stuff, like ties and patent leather shoes. I guess we'll probably go somewhere fancy," he said, not quite sure. For one thing, he'd never thought about looking good in society, and some of the dances his dad made him go to were hardly real social events. And secondly, he wondered if Cas would want to take him anywhere at all. He wouldn't be surprised if he didn't. He didn't seem like the type to go to a fundraiser, and he really didn't know which cutlery to use for lobster and which for dessert, and those were things rich people dealt with, right?
"Yeah, you're going to need some of that stuff," Cas agreed. "I'll make you an appointment at the salon where I get my suits made. They'll make you some shirts and a tailored suit. I'll give you a card for the rest. You can buy whatever you want. But I've got something for you today," he added, smelling sweet happiness before letting go of Dean and walking over to the shelf where he kept his t-shirts, tank tops, boxers and socks.
He rummaged through his things for a moment before turning around with a triumphant look on his face and holding up Dean's shirt that he'd left behind on their first visit. And in his other hand was his own shirt.
"You still have my stuff?" He asked in surprise.
Castiel frowned in confusion and cocked his head to the side.
"Sure," he held out his clothes in his outstretched hand. "I had them both cleaned and put away to return to you. I told you I'd do it. What else would I do with them?"
Right, what else was he supposed to do with his stuff.
Dean smiled and put on his shirt. It was nice to have at least one piece of his wardrobe back. Somehow it made him feel like himself again. And that was probably what Evans was good at. Taking the Omegas' stuff, stripping them of their past and their personalities and putting them into gray tracksuits so that none of them could feel unique. He realized it was working on him, too, and it was infuriating. He thought he was getting stronger and more resilient.
Not so enthusiastic anymore, he pulled up his pants and was about to put on his flannel shirt when Castiel stopped him.
"Not that one. Take this one," he told him, handing him the burgundy shirt he'd lent him the other day when they'd met Alastair. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow. "This will be fine for the store we're going to. Besides, it fits you much better than it does me. I want you to take it and wear it."
He took the shirt and put it on. A look in the mirror convinced him that Cas was absolutely right. He looked damn good in it! Taking a longer look, he allowed himself to turn up the collar and roll up the sleeves to a comfortable length, stopping just below his elbows to show off his muscular forearms.
"Damn... too bad I lost my bracelets," he lamented aloud. It was just some of that braided leather, a few silver-colored beads, and some of those strings, so nothing valuable, but he'd been wearing it day and night for a good four years now. Somehow, ever since he'd looked at himself in the mirror for the first time and thought it would be nice to look a little more worldly.
“Hold..." Cas urged and went over to his huge jewelry box.
Dean watched curiously as he rummaged through it for a moment and then returned with a pair of bracelets. One was a thick silver chain and the other was a braided black leather, similar to his bracelets except that there was a small diamond on the single silver bead. He also brought a watch that Dean had tried on once before and a silver necklace.
The Alpha didn't even ask any questions, just took his hand and expertly fastened first the watch, then the bracelets on the other hand, and finally the necklace. It was kind of weird because... well, Dad wasn't much into... well, looking good, and even though he never said anything when Dean gelled his hair and put eyeliner on his eyes, he had that look that said there were more important things in the world than getting his eyeliner cut. He'd certainly never encouraged him to take care of his appearance, but Cas... Castiel seemed downright concerned that Dean maintain his style. What's more, he lent him his own clothes and looked genuinely pleased about it. His eyes were narrowed like a big cat, and the lines around his mouth and eyes were deep. Dean's inner Omega purred contentedly in response to his expression and the sweet, honey scent, thrilled that he was making his Alpha happy, that the Alpha thought he was beautiful, and that the Alpha was doing him the honor of giving him his things.
"Just wait..." Cas instructed, and without further explanation, he stepped out of the closet.
Dean waited patiently, genuinely curious to see what the Alpha would come up with. And yes, he also felt a little insecure and his palms were sweating. He wiped them on his trousers. This was really weird. One of those things he wouldn't expect from Castiel, but then again... he had a closet full of tailored suits and a damn big jewelry box full of expensive men's jewelry that he actually wore. So it wasn't really out of place that he was cool with a little strutting, and most importantly, he knew how to do it. Hmm... maybe he wouldn't mind putting on some eyeliner, he thought as he looked in the mirror.
Just then Cas returned and clicked the scissors he'd brought with him. They weren't regular paper scissors, but the stainless steel medical ones that came in first aid kits.
"What are the scissors for?" He asked, confused.
"For jeans, of course," he replied with his typical condescension, and he also had that look as if he was wondering how Dean could even wonder. "Stay calm. These scissors are sharp enough to pierce your femoral artery," he ordered before getting down on one knee in front of a surprised Dean. "Or cut off something we'd both definitely miss," he added, looking up, his eyes glittering with amusement.
Dean chuckled a little.
"Hey, really taking care of my junk, huh, babe? I'm pretty proud of it..." he did not forgive the provocative remark, which Cas, as usual, took surprisingly seriously.
"You have something to be proud of, too. You can trust me on that."
"Oh, shut up," he muttered, feeling another uncomfortable rush of heat scorch his ears.
The Alpha commented only with a wry smile and a hint of sweet amusement, and with confidence and skill, he reached into Dean's pants in the area of his right thigh. Dangerously close to his cock, actually, so to be honest he tensed a little, keeping a wary eye on what the Alpha was doing. He cut a few holes and then steamed some threads so that the holes had nice frayed ends that made them look torn from wear and tear. Damn it! If he'd known it was that easy, he'd have done it himself and not paid extra for nothing.
Cas switched the scissors from his right hand to his left, leaned on his knee and pulled himself up, raising his eyebrows in challenge and nodding toward the mirror. Dean looked at his reflection.
"That looks damn good."
"Spasibo," the Alpha smiled. "I have experience. Since I was fifteen, all my jeans have ended up like this," he mentioned; Dean responded with a questioning look, which Castiel commented on with a raised eyebrow for a change. "I told you I was a punk when I was your age, didn't I?"
"Wait... like a real punk with everything?" He asked incredulously. When Alpha showed him what music he listened to, he didn't really see him as a real punk with a mohawk. I mean, yeah, he kind of did, but the image had seemed surreal to him at the time, with Cas wearing those expensive shirts and jackets and jewelry and gold watches. He didn't even look like he'd ever worn jeans.
"Sure, with everything," he replied without hesitation or even a hint of embarrassment at his youth. "Canadians on my legs, ripped jeans, a leather jacket full of patches and safety pins, ten earrings... and I even had blue overflow in my hair."
The picture he painted was surreal, but...dude, like amazing, because when he described it like that, when Dean heard it straight from Castiel's mouth, he could slowly picture it. A young Case, with his sexy tousled hair and stubble, leaning against a spray-painted wall in his tight, crushed jeans, a cigarette in one hand and the other tucked into his battered leather jacket. Sexy in a rough kind of way, and... actually, he was the kind of guy Dean could get along with, Alpha or not.
"Please tell me you have a picture!" He demanded, yes, a little amused, but mostly with genuine interest.
Castiel's corners twitched in a smile.
"I don't. I'm from the generation that was lucky enough not to have phones with cameras and Facebook. There's no evidence of the transgressions of my youth."
"Hey! What transgressions? You must have looked pretty hot."
" Da, da. I had a certain rugged attractiveness. Just like you," he added, ruffling Dean's hair and measuring his reflection in the mirror with a quizzical look, grunting in satisfaction as he did so.
Dean felt a rush of warmth and his Omega hummed contentedly. It felt so stupidly nice to be called beautiful by his Alpha and he still felt uneasy about it, but at least Castiel was right for now. He looked good. And he was himself again. Only two things were missing; the first was shoes. He curled his toes in his white socks, imagining plain sneakers that just didn't go with the rest of him.
"I need better shoes..." he thought aloud, partly to himself.
"Da," Castiel nodded, half-placing a hand on the back of his head; Dean leaned back a little under the touch and let out a relaxed sigh. "We're stopping for something later today. Anything else?"
He glanced at the Alpha and said in a hopeful tone:
"Hair gel...?"
"Bathroom."
His eyes widened in surprise.
"Really? You have hair gel?"
"There are occasions when I need to," he ruffled his hair, "tame it a bit."
"Cas... baby, you really are the best!" He said with a laugh. Then he leaned over, planted a quick kiss on his Alpha's freshly shaved cheek, and scurried into the bathroom.
All the cabinets were under the sinks and stone countertops and had this elaborate handleless opening system where you had to push the drawer in the right place for it to come out on its own. The electrical outlets were similarly designed. It made the whole bathroom look clean, elegant, and expensive. Castiel showed him how to do it when he took out the hair dryer after showering and needed to plug it in somewhere. Yep, he was blow-drying his hair, and Dean was literally forbidden to leave the bathroom until he did, too. Something about not being able to go out with a wet head so he wouldn't catch a cold.
It was annoying, but now he was glad that at least he knew that there were some drawers. He tried the one Cas had taken the hairdryer out of, and yeah, there really was hair gel in there. Awesome! He farted a decent amount into the palm of his hand and set about styling his already slightly overgrown hair. Nice and easy to make it look naturally fluffy and just stylish and sassy enough. It took him months and a lot of failed attempts that made him look like he'd put a helmet on his head before he got the hang of it. Fortunately, it was something that wasn't forgotten.
He was somewhere in the middle of it when Cas came back to clean up the scissors. He put them in the first aid kit hidden in one of the drawers. As Dean had managed to notice, a well stocked first aid kit could definitely come in handy at some point in the future.
Then Cas wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned down to bury his nose in his neck. Dean didn't hesitate and rolled his head to the side, giving him better access to his throat and scent gland. The Alpha sucked greedily at his scent.
"You smell happy," he complimented, pulling away and looking into Dean's eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Finally, your scent isn't so bland. It's almost like it used to be."
He felt a small, unpleasant pang in his stomach. Sure enough, he noticed that Dean's scent was weaker than before. Considering how faintly he could smell himself, it must have been obvious to Cas.
He let his hands drop to the edge of the sink and lowered his eyes to them. He didn't want to tell Alpha about the suppressants, but it was probably better that he knew. He took a breath and lifted his head to look into Cas's eyes. He could see the question in the clear, blue sky.
"I think it's the suppressants that bastard from the shelter gave me."
The hitherto sweet scent of roasted cherries and honey turned almond bitter, and Castiel's expression went from relaxed and happy to tense as all his wrinkles turned to thin lines. Though Dean was fairly certain the Alpha wasn't angry with him, the urge to bow his head and submit, to extinguish the Alpha's anger, was strong indeed. He didn't do it, but he also didn't resist when Cas turned him around.
"Did he give you a suppressant?" He asked in a strained voice that made it clear he was suppressing a growl.
"Yeah... well, at least I think they were suppressants, and Angelo... the Omega boy I lived with, said so too. All I know is that he gave me some kind of injection... the first day I came to Sun Hill... and my heat stopped. Ever since then, my scent has been so... muted and faint, like all the Omegas in the shelter. I can even smell it myself, though it's hard to... you know... accurately describe my scent."
"Have you told the doctors at the hospital about this?"
"No. Of course not!" He replied firmly. Hell no! He had no intention of subjecting himself to another humiliating examination, and he thought Cas would understand, but apparently not.
Frustration showed on his face and he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with an anguished sigh. He took several deep breaths before looking up again and speaking in a strained voice that made it obvious that he was trying to speak as calmly as possible and not startle Dean in any way. His scent, unfortunately, made it much more obvious how he really felt.
"Why not?"
"There's no reason for them to know. I'm fine, okay? Nothing hurts, I don't feel weird, everything works as it should down there... it's just the smell. It's not that bad," he said convincingly, but in truth, he was more convincing himself than Castiel. Because in reality... yes, in reality, he was a little worried about what the suppressant had done to him. If something inside him hadn't screwed up enough that he might not be able to have a puppy or something. But it was also true that he was a little more afraid of doctors and humiliating tests. So he just decided to pretend that he never got the suppressants and that everything was fine. It was the easiest thing to do.
"Din..." Cas mumbled between his teeth, but then he took a deep breath and spoke again, continuing so calmly, "Suppressants aren't fun. They can be just as bad as drugs. Especially for Omegas, it can take years to get their cycles and fertility back in order after coming off suppressants. You need to see a doctor."
"No!" He flatly refused, baring his teeth a little. "No doctors and no tests, okay? I'm never letting anyone stick any damn medical instruments up my ass again! I'm fine!"
"We have our own doctor who..."
"I said no!" He snarled, wriggling out of the light grip Castiel's hand had on his forearm and heading for the door, not caring that he elbowed Alpha in the process. He just wanted to get out of the room and out of the conversation.
Of course, the Alpha wasn't going to put up with that kind of behavior and wouldn't let him go. He growled audibly, grabbed his elbow tightly, almost painfully, and jerked him around to face him. The coldness in his blue eyes was intimidating, not to mention the smell of bitter almonds, but Dean was in no mood for submission right now. He returned Castiel's growl, straightening his shoulders and tensing the muscles in the hand the Alpha held. He didn't try to pull away explicitly, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance since Cas was so much stronger, but he made it clear that he wasn't going to be manipulated any further.
" Alright, Omega. I won't force you to be examined if you don't want to," the Alpha half surprised him. "But I need to know what else you haven't told me?"
"I've told you everything," he replied, tense and defensive, but he stopped snarling and posturing.
The gaze of the blue eyes was piercing to the point of questioning, and Dean felt as if it was boring into his brain, or maybe even his soul, as if the Alpha could read everything he felt and thought. And the power of the Alpha's gaze was enough to make his omega duck his head obediently and relax every muscle in his body, almost against his will.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away.
"Almost everything..." he admitted, much less exuberantly than before, whereupon he quickly looked up and said urgently: "But it was nothing... like nothing to be angry about or..." or to despise me, he added to himself mentally. "It's not what Evans did. You already know all about that. He gave me suppressants, acted like a Knot, and then in the kitchen... he used the Alpha voice... " He paused, considering what to say, and finally decided to hide the fact that he could resist Evans' Alpha voice even from Castiel. "I beat him up and set fire to the house. What I didn't tell you is that the computer I gave to the police... me and Charlie stole it together from Evans' office."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, that's all."
Castiel gave him another long look, which Dean bravely resisted almost to the last moment. He lowered his eyes for only a moment before the Alpha let out a long sigh and released him.
"Okay, I trust you," he said much softer, a soft tendril of sweetness working its way through the almond bitterness. "In the future, you must never lie to me or hide anything from me, do you understand, dorogay?" He asked urgently, grabbing Dean's chin and lifting his face to his own. "Whatever happens, whatever you do, I can clean it up, but I need to know about it in time. Do we understand each other?"
"Yeah... okay, Alpha. I'll let you know next time," he promised, though he knew he might not be able to keep it. If he did, or if something happened that could endanger Castiel himself, if he knew, he wouldn't tell him. He couldn't think of anything in particular, but Alpha's safety was more important to him than his own. And then, of course, Sam's safety.
But Cas didn't seem to sense that he was adding a 'but' to the promise in his mind, or if he did, he didn't show it with anything more than another unreadable look, but that quickly softened and a contented, approving growl came from Alpha's throat. Then he leaned forward and kissed Dean lightly on the lips.
"I'm glad you understand," he said and pulled away. "Now come on. We have to go so we won't be late for our meeting."
"Meeting? You have a meeting at the Omega collar stores?"
"At the fancy collar stores, yes. I'll get my jacket and wait by the door," with that he turned and left the bathroom.
Dean glanced at his back and then at his own stop. He looked into his own eyes and his hand came up to touch his bare neck. The memory, the ghostly weight of the thick collar on his neck was not a pleasant one, but maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. It would just be another way to show the world that he belonged to his Alpha, which... he probably wanted. No, he definitely wanted it, and the fresh, purple mark peeking out from under the edge of the shirt he had so eagerly requested was clear evidence of that. He just wasn't sure about the collar.
With a sigh, he raked his hair one last time to give it the shape he wanted and left the bathroom.
Chapter 68
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The collar shop had two storefronts. In each was a three-story, four-sided revolving glass case displaying the collars. And a multitude of photographs attached to gold-colored chains and hanging from the ceiling. The photos were of Omegas, petite, cute, with delicate features and all the trappings of a true Omega, including the collar around their necks. And they all had the vacant expressions of professional models. Between the hanging photos and the gold-painted mime announcing Noble Collars - Dean rolled his eyes at the name - one could see inside the store. He'd seen stores like this before, but he'd never been interested in taking a closer look, and he wasn't now.
He unconsciously reached up to his neck and frowned.
Looking into the shop window, he thought less of the hard collar the bastard had put on him, and more of the thin pink collar for the favorite that Angel was wearing. For all the collars in the display resembled such a collar. The collar for the trophy Omega. They were thin, decorated with various buckles, beads, inlays in the leather, some were mostly chains, with pearls, all metal... Much of it looked more like jewelry, but the basic shape and purpose of the collar was still there.
The Alpha reached for the bell next to the door. Dean took that as a cue to come to his side and force himself to relax, shoulders nicely slumped, head slightly lowered, gaze more focused on the chin of whoever came to answer. A proper, orderly Omega, as was expected of him. He knew he had to play it, and he could play it, but it was such a direct contrast to how relaxed he might have been next to Cas just a few minutes ago when they were in the car.
The door slammed and warm air blew into his face with a hint of ozone from the air purifiers and an Alpha smell composed of the scent of sun-dried hay and grapes of wine.
Dean dutifully kept his head halfway down, but he couldn't forgive himself for glancing up. The Alpha who had come to open the door was wearing a dark blue pinstriped suit and a pink shirt, with a blue scarf tied around his neck instead of a tie, and an anchor needle stuck in the knot of the scarf. He was the same height as Cas, with dark hair, a clean-shaven face, and slightly elongated eyes. He had the professional smile of a salesman determined to make a sale on his lips, but oddly enough, his scent was genuinely pleasing, and the sweet pleasure intensified when he saw Castiel.
"Alpha Novak, I presume," he said in a formal but friendly tone, and though he naturally lifted his chin and puffed out his chest in a pose, there was nothing aggressive about his posture. Just the typical greeting between Alphas, which Castiel returned, of course, but even he wasn't filled with anger or even just annoyance. Not like when he'd met Sonny or the Alpha detective.
"Yes," Cas nodded. "Alpha Castiel will do, and this is my Omega, Dean," he introduced them, placing his hand on the back of Dean's head.
"Alpha Liam Park." He stepped back and motioned them into the shop. "Please...come..."
He let Cas go first, because it was the right thing to do and befitting of a well-mannered Omega, and then stood at his side, but again he didn't forgive himself for taking a quick survey of the place.
Aside from the door to the outside, there was the door to the back of the shop, which was behind a perfectly ordinary glass counter, as it used to be. There were also the familiar glass shelves that held the collars that were used to make necklaces. The air was clear enough to read the scents of everyone in the room, except for the petite woman standing next to the counter. She was definitely of Korean descent, like the Alpha seller, also with beautiful long dark hair hanging down her upturned face and a solid gold collar around her neck. Surely she was an Omega, but her scent was masked by strong blockers.
"Welcome to Noble Collars," the Alpha salesman said, gesturing in all directions with his hand in a polite, unobtrusive manner, as if it might be necessary to point out where they were. "My pride and joy, now in its tenth year, has been built by the best collar artists and craftsmen in the business. My merchandise is some of the best you can find in town, but you know that yourself from Alpha, who recommended us..."
"Mr. Shurley recommended you. He's my attorney and the founder of Shurley and Edlund."
"I've heard of them..." the Alpha shook his head, then looked briefly at Dean, who immediately lowered his eyes like any other Omega would have done. This must have satisfied the Alpha, because he turned back to Castiel, "Before we begin, I have an important question; may I speak directly to your Omega?"
He couldn't help but look up. What the hell did he mean by being allowed to speak directly to him? Was he supposed to just sit there in silence the whole time and no one would even talk to him? Or was it that the Alpha was going to interpret all his questions for him? Oh my God! This was crazy! And completely ridiculous.
"Yes, you can," Cas agreed, as if he had the right to decide who Dean could and couldn't talk to.
He clenched his jaw and began to breathe slowly through his nose, trying to calm himself down before anything reflected in his scent. At least his Omega was pretty cool with Alpha Park. A little wary and so generally unwilling to be nice to anyone but her Alpha, but since Park didn't act like a Knot, they could all be cool.
"Nice to meet you, Omega Dean," Alpha Park turned to him, which, Dean didn't notice, was the first time he'd ever acknowledged him in any significant way. In fact, he spent most of the time looking into Castiel's eyes.
"And I'm pleased to meet you, Alpha," he replied simply and politely.
From the waft of contented scent from Alpha Park, it was clear that this was exactly what he had expected, and in the wake of the other Alpha's scent, Castiel's grew a little lighter as well, and with that, he stroked his thumb across the back of Dean's head in a clearly complimentary and appreciative gesture.
"Please..." Park motioned them to the corner of the store where they were sitting.
The Alpha salesman went first, Cas following behind, still holding Dean at his side.
The seats were modern, with metal frames and leather upholstery, and the table in front of them was made of clear glass and had no frame at all. Just a piece of cast glass. Except for a two-seater pushed against the wall and an armchair turned so that its back was to the counter and the entrance to the back of the store, the floor was covered with a thick carpet and several large, fluffy pillows. Dean didn't have to think too hard to figure out what they were for. It was clear that he was expected to sit on the floor, which he had no intention of doing. He wasn't a dog and he wasn't going to kneel at anyone's feet, not even Castiel's. Certainly not willingly. And he wouldn't do it even if it meant not looking like a proper Omega. Yeah, sure, he'd promised Cas he'd act like that in public, and he was determined to keep it, knowing why his Alpha wanted him to, but damn it! There were limits, and kneeling on the ground was way beyond them. Castiel had to understand that, and if he didn't... then he was going to hell.
That's why when his Alpha went to the double seat, he followed him and sat down next to him. And he didn't care what the Alpha salesman thought about it.
Strangely enough, Alpha Park didn't say anything about it, and neither did Castiel. He just leaned back comfortably, spread his legs relaxed, sovereignty itself, and then put his arm around Dean's back. There seemed to be no shame, so he relaxed under Cas's touch, but again, not too much. He thought about sitting a little gracefully or just somehow well, not spreading his legs and rolling around, because that wasn't appropriate for Omega.
"I always try to accommodate my customers as much as possible in my shop," Alpha Park began. At that moment, another Omega approached them, quietly and stealthily, as Omegas were supposed to do. Because Omegas weren't supposed to be very conspicuous or loud or shit like that.
Park didn't pay any attention to the Omega, Castiel only gave her a fleeting glance out of the corner of his eye, but Dean noticed her perfectly and watched with great disgust as the Omega woman took one of the pillows, placed it on the floor next to Park's right leg and knelt on it. That was the moment when the Alpha finally paid attention to her, taking a tablet from the table and handing it to her.
"It is important to me that the Omegas feel comfortable, beautiful and owned, and that the Alphas are confident that no one will overlook the claim they have on their Omega. I hope I can ensure that for you as well." Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his leg as the kneeling Omega placed the tablet on his knee. "I'm going to ask you a few questions first, to see what your idea is..." He gave Dean a brief, somewhat judgmental look. "I sense that you're not mated and I can see that you're not one of the more traditional couples," he began, causing Dean to frown slightly; was he referring to his appearance or what the hell? Maybe he was a Knot after all, even if it didn't look like it at first glance. "Why did you decide to buy a collar?" He asked, his eyes fixed on Castiel.
"In my homeland, Omegas rarely wear collars, but here in America, it's much more common. I like it, and I think the collar is a nice and somewhat intimate gift for Dean's birthday," Cas answered him with a complete lie, not a muscle in his face twitching, not a flicker in his eyes, not even his scent betraying that he wasn't telling the truth. For once Dean knew what lie they were going with, they had agreed on it on the way here; it was his twenty-first birthday and his Alpha wanted to buy him a collar for it. Not a word about registration or Alpha custody. And Dean agreed. In fact, he was damn glad that a stranger would never know that he had to wear the collar because of some stupid law.
"I see... So this is the first collar you're buying and the first collar Omega Dean will wear?"
"Yes."
The Omega woman made some notes on the tablet she had placed on her lap.
"Will this be the collar your Omega will wear in public or only in private?"
"I definitely want a collar he can wear every day, preferably one he never has to take off."
He tried hard not to frown. Just the idea of not having to take the collar off made him angry and a little scared.
"We have collars that can be fastened with small locks. Only you have the key to the lock. My Omega companion has the same. Show it to them," he ordered the kneeling woman.
She didn't make a sound, just put the tablet down on the coffee table and, to Dean's disgust and anger, crawled on her knees in front of Castiel, only to lower her head further than it was already lowered and flip her hair back to reveal the back of her collar. The back of the collar was removable. There was a hinge on one side and two loops on the other with a small lock hanging from them. Just like the collar he got from the fucker at the shelter. It was leather and could theoretically be cut with a knife or scissors. But this collar was gold, and yes, gold was softer than, say, stainless steel, but still, this collar could only be removed with a pair of tin snips. And that was... that was just fucking sick!
"There's no way I want that... Alpha," he firmly refused before even looking at Castiel. When he did, he saw the tension in the corners of his lips and jaw, and knew he didn't like it either.
"As my Omega said, this doesn't suit either of us. I had in mind something suitable for long or permanent wear."
"Understood," he nodded before turning to his Omega, "Return to your seat."
The Omega crawled back onto her cushion, picked up a tablet from the table and tapped a few times on it. She looked a bit like a regular secretary or assistant or second saleswoman right now, if she wasn't kneeling on the floor at the same time. It was kind of weird. Like she was totally cool with what she was doing. Maybe she was. But Dean couldn't do that.
"For everyday, long wear, thinner leather collars are best, softened with a layer of organic bamboo fiber fleece that wicks moisture well, and lined with silk or organic cotton. For the buckle, I would highly recommend stainless steel. They are a strong alloy that resists tearing, so buckles can be thin and light. They won't bind even when you're lying down, and they're very unobtrusive."
Dean stared at them, amazed at all the things the collar could hold. It sounded complicated and of course expensive. In his mind, a collar was just a strip of leather with a buckle and at best some sort of stud or pendant. He had no idea about lining or softening.
He glanced at Alpha, who looked only mildly intrigued, as if all the descriptions were no surprise to him, and when he finally spoke, he sounded, as always, utterly confident:
"Leather with softening, silk and steel buckle sounds very good."
Alpha Park nodded in satisfaction, and his Omega companions made a few notes on the board.
"And what colors do you have in mind?"
"Black," Dean said immediately as the memory of a pink collar flashed through his mind. Yeah, he didn't think Cas would want a pink collar for him, after all, he'd talked about black, but he still had to make his wish clear.
Castiel just gave him a quick, sidelong glance.
"Combined with silver."
"Pure silver or metals in bright colors?"
"I'm not against any kind of metal, but it has to fit." Cas turned to him, taking his chin and lifting his face so he could look at him with eyes narrowed in amusement, "to its rugged beauty. Nothing too flashy," he turned back to the Alpha salesman. Cas seemed to know what he wanted.
"I see. Something elegant, but also in the style of James Dean." The salesman shook his head, not only grunting in agreement, but also smelling satisfied. "I know exactly what you mean, and I have a few pieces you might like. If you'll excuse me, I'll get them ready." With that, he stood and added before heading to the back of the shop: "If you would like some refreshments, my Omega will be happy to serve you."
"Would you like anything, dorogay?" Castiel asked as soon as Alpha Park was in the back.
He looked at the Omega kneeling on the floor and shook his head.
"No, I don't want anything." He didn't want to give the poor girl orders or anything, it was bad enough that she had to kneel on the floor here.
"I'd like some tea, Omega," the Alpha, who obviously had no problem giving orders, turned to her.
"As you wish, Alpha," the kneeling Omega replied, whereupon she rose to her feet, bowed slightly as she stood, and took three steps back before turning and retreating to the back of the shop where her Alpha had gone.
Dean watched the whole spectacle with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, a little anxious, but mostly seething with anger. He didn't like it when the weaker ones were humiliated, in fact his dad had raised him to help them, so he didn't like the ease with which his Alpha used the power he had over the other Omega.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked in a strained whisper, because yeah... it was clear to him that the Alpha salesman and his Omega companion shouldn't hear.
"Chto?" the Alpha asked, giving Dean one of his puzzled expressions, his head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Why do you force this Omega to obey you? Isn't it enough that she has to crawl around on the floor?"
"I don't think she does it because she's forced to," he replied.
"Yeah, right, because every normal person wants to walk on their knees in front of others," he retorted angrily.
"I don't understand why you're angry, Din. Can't you smell her scent? She's happy."
"Her scent? She doesn't have one! That's because she's wearing some pretty strong shit."
"I can smell her scent," Alpha disagreed, wrinkling his nose a little. "I guess it's because I'm particularly sensitive to the scent of Omegas and women. Except for you, all Omegas stink to me."
He paused a little. It wasn't the first time Cas had told him that he didn't like Omegas and wasn't attracted to them, but sometimes he didn't express it directly in the sense that they stunk. Maybe the Alpha had a very keen sense of smell. And maybe he could smell more of the other Omega than Dean could, despite the blockers, but he still found it hard to believe that someone would like to be put down like that. He frowned and looked behind the counter.
"Are you sure she's okay with this?"
"Yes," Cas replied with absolute certainty, ruffling his hair. "Not all Omegas are as dominant, strong, confident and self-sufficient as you."
"Kay. But I'll never do that, okay?" He said emphatically. "I know how to act in public, and I will, but this is too much."
"I would never ask you to do that. Even I think it's too much. I told you before, I don't want Omega to serve me. I have more than enough of those around me. I want an equal partner for life, someone who isn't afraid to stand up to me and tell me the truth. I want you, moy sladkiy. Do we understand each other?" He ruffled Dean's hair again, then looked away and looked around. "Let's look around," he decided, smelling sweetly.
Den narrowed his eyes and sucked in some air. Aside from the tart sweetness of the honey-roasted cherries, he caught a hint of arousal, and he could tell not only by the scent but by the expression that the Alpha was intrigued and pleased.
"You like the collars." It wasn't a question, but a statement he honestly didn't know how to handle. He wasn't sure if it bothered him that Cas liked the collars or not. But his inner Omega was clear. She wanted Dean to be marked as Castiel's in every way, including the collar of course, and that was... strange. So against everything he believed in and who he thought he was. Was there really a possibility that one day he would want to wear Castiel's collar? He wasn't sure.
"I'm an Alpha, and I'm proud of it. I won't deny that I like the idea of showing everyone that you're mine."
"Fine. Let's see what they have here..." he agreed and stood up.
Cas didn't say anything, just smiled contentedly and stood up, putting an arm around his shoulders.
Most of the collars were leather and rather narrow, but there were a few as thick as the one Evans had given him. But he had to admit that they looked different than a piece of rough leather with sharp edges. It was soft to look at, the kind of leather they used to make jackets out of, and all the collars were lined with cloth, not like the ones at the shelter that really looked like cheap dog collars. Who knows, maybe they were for dogs. Besides, why would a Knot like Evans spend money on Omegas when he considered them inferior puppy raisers, not much better than animals. Speaking of prices... how much did the collars cost here? There were no prices anywhere, though he guessed that a collar made entirely of gold or silver would be very expensive.
He looked back to see if Alpha Park or his Omega had returned by chance. No, he and Cas were still alone in the shop, but he still lowered his voice when he asked:
"How much do these collars cost?"
"I don't know exactly... I'm guessing they start at about eight hundred apiece," the Alpha replied absently, while he examined a dark brown collar with gold studded holes all around.
Fuck that. All his clothes together probably weren't worth that much. Now he had to wear it around his neck. How the hell had he gotten into this situation in the first place?
"You like something?" came Alpha Park's polite hunger behind them.
They both turned around.
"Yes, a few things, but first we'll start with the collar we came for," Castiel replied, guiding Dean back to his seat with a gentle nudge.
Alpha Park waited until he was seated before sinking into the armchair himself. At that moment, Omega returned from behind, carrying a tray with a brown square teapot and four matching mugs. And a small milk jug and sugar bowl of the same shape. She placed the tray next to the jewelry tray with the six collars that Alpha Park had chosen and brought, and began to pour the tea into all four mugs. It seemed that not only was Dean expected to have some, but she was expected to have some as well, which he found contradictory to the behavior her Alpha Mate expected of her. Still, she gave the tea to her Alpha first - a teaspoon of sugar, no milk - then to Castiel, and finally poured it into the other two cups, placing one in front of Dean and leaving one within reach of her own hand.
The two Alphas drank first, in a sort of silent step that said they could safely ignore the merchandise for a while, and both hummed contentedly as they sipped their teas. Dean picked up his cup and looked down at its brown, slightly steaming surface. He wasn't in the mood for tea, he preferred coffee, but he imitated the Alphas and took a sip, trying to remain calm. He wanted to get the collar selection over with, and besides, it was hard not to stare at the ready collars and want to pick them up. Not because he liked the whole idea of collars, but... well, the ones on the table were actually quite nice.
The first one, the one closest to Cas, was made of interlaced leather straps decorated with bright gold beads. The other was a plain black collar, but around it was a silver chain about half an inch wide, which was probably real silver. The other had small silver and gold studs nailed into it, forming triangles on the collar, and each stud had a small stone set into it, much like the smallest of the diamonds the Alpha had in his safe. The fourth had what looked like an emblem on the front, which looked like a letter L lying down, and two little lines to go with it; all done in silver and roughly cast so it looked like someone had written or engraved it or something. The fifth collar was decorated with four simple beads, cleaned to a high shine, strung on the collar itself, and even though they were flattened underneath, Dean found this collar the least comfortable of all and dismissed it outright. The last collar was decorated with friezes and had small silver rings hanging from the bottom.
"Well... let's have a look at my selection. I hope," Alpha Park set his cup down, "that at least one will catch your eye."
Castiel put his cup down as well, and Dean gratefully put his away, hoping that now they could just grab one of the prepared collars - all but that one seemed tolerable - and go, only he didn't get that blessing.
Park grabbed the first collar and began to show it to them while talking about the purity of the white gold used to make the beads, the origin of the leather, and the shape of the buckle. This continued in a similar fashion with the other collars. He learned the weight and purity of the silver chain on the second collar, the number and origin of the diamonds on the third collar, the reputation of the maker who had produced the fourth collar, the imaginative elegance of the fifth collar, and the traditional touch of punk on the last collar. It was an endless list of superlatives and things he didn't quite understand, and it was really hard to look interested and focused all the time, as Castiel managed to do. He managed most of the time, but occasionally his eyes would wander out into the street, to the ceiling painted with half-naked people in togas, and to the large glass chandelier that radiated from the center of the room. Yeah, he knew he should have paid more attention to his choice of collars, he'd be wearing one for days, but... it was easier not to think too much about wearing one, and besides, he'd be fine with a simple leather belt. As long as it didn't chafe his skin and cut into his scent glands.
"So what do you think, dorogay? Which one do you like best?" Castiel asked, forcing him to concentrate.
He looked over all the collars, and his eyes stopped on the one with the strange letter L all by itself.
"This one looks pretty cool," he said, picking up the collar to inspect it.
It was soft, curling up in his hand as if it were alive, and surprisingly light as well. No, like the collar he'd had to wear at Sun Hill. The inside wasn't rawhide either, but a fine fabric, dark green in color, silk, as promised, and when he ran his finger over the silky layer, he could feel that there was something soft underneath. If he were honest with himself, he would say that he had never held something so beautiful and well made in his hand. It had nothing to do with the collars he'd seen in the windows of similar but cheaper shops like Noble Collar or the leather bracelets he wore himself.
"I like this one better," Alpha disagreed with his choice and picked up the one with diamonds and gold. "I want to see it on you," he added firmly, holding the collar up to indicate that he wanted to put it around Dean's neck.
He figured he probably didn't have much of a choice, so he pulled his head up to give Cas space to put the collars on, but he didn't let his chosen one out of his hand. Instead, he gripped it a little tighter as the silky white fabric that lined Castiel's favorite collar touched his neck. And he held his breath for the long moment as the collar was slowly wrapped around his neck as Cas fastened it at the back. The creak of the leather, the jingle of the buckle... the sounds were uncomfortably familiar, and even though he could see that the collar was thin and soft, he still felt as if it was strangling him.
Unconsciously, he raised his hand to hook his fingers into the collar, but stopped. It would be strange to do such a thing, so he pushed away the uncomfortable feeling and finished the movement by just touching the collar with his fingertips.
"Beautiful," Castiel judged with satisfaction, a satisfied purr escaping his chest as his scent faded.
Dean sucked in air. As much as he wanted to defend himself, he probably couldn't resist the effect Alpha's happiness was having on his inner Omega, who was happy to have made Cas happy. It was strong enough that the uncomfortable feeling he'd gotten from the collar receded a bit, and he began to think that he should know what he looked like.
"Can I see myself?" He turned to the Alpha salesman.
He gave a slight nod, then motioned with his hand to Omega, who was already holding up a hand-held mirror, large enough for Dean to see not only his face and collared neck, but most of his torso and shoulders in it. So he could judge how it looked, and it was... well, not bad, but it didn't seem to be his style. The diamonds were... too diamondy and the gold was too gold. It just screamed money and luxury and all that, and it didn't fit his image as a tough rebel. He wasn't comfortable with it.
" Um... that's very... shiny," he chose the word carefully, then turned to Castiel and picked up his collar. "Shall we try this?"
"Yes, of course, Dean," Castiel agreed matter-of-factly, taking off his diamond collar and setting it aside to take the one Dean offered.
The feel on his skin was exactly the same as the other collar. There was no scratching, no digging into the flesh - Castiel had made sure the collar was loose enough, which made Dean wonder where he'd learned to fasten collars so well - and no pressure on his scent gland. He could feel the collar. He could tell exactly where on his neck the clasp was, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Just somehow unusual.
This time, when he lifted his hand, it was with the intention of feeling how the collar fit. He ran his hand over the edge and the uneven surface of the ornament before turning to Omega, who was still holding the mirror. This collar was much better. The distinct stitching, the seemingly imperfect decoration, and the mysteriousness of the symbol... it all fit him much better.
He smiled at his reflection.
It still wasn't like he wanted to wear the collar, but... dude, it worked. He was like an Omega rock star or something. It was rough, no shiny rhinestones. Since he had to choose, he chose this one.
"I like this one the best."
"We'll try the others," Cas replied, not wanting to give up diamonds I guess, which wasn't surprising considering what he wore himself. Dean was determined, though, and wouldn't get used to it, but to please his Alpha and keep up the appearance of being a well-behaved Omega, he agreed and had all the collars tried on.
The one with the big beads was uncomfortable, as he had expected, but the braided one wasn't too bad and he looked good in it. The one with the big chain looked like someone was going to hang it. And the one with the trim and rings was too wide. It didn't pinch, but he could feel the weight of it on his scent gland, and that wasn't just uncomfortable for the person, it made him think of that hellhole over and over again. And the last thing he wanted was to be haunted by memories of Sun Hill every day he wore the collar.
He made all his arguments, except in the case of the last collar, he left out that it reminded him of the shelter, he just said that it weighed on his shoulders. And Castiel confirmed it. So, in the end, they were left with the final choice between the collar Dean liked and the one with the diamonds.
"If I had to choose, it would be this one," he tapped the mystical symbol with his finger, whereupon he paused a little, hearing that he was being too decisive in his statement, and that didn't suit Omega. So he deliberately relaxed his stance and bowed his head before speaking in a soft, submissive tone, "but we'll buy whatever you want, Alpha."
"My experience tells me that it's best to let Omega have the last word," Alpha Park surprised him with his advice. "Especially if it's the first collar. If your Omega likes the collar, he'll be all the happier to wear it, and what does a true Alpha want more than for his Omega to be happy?" He asked the rhetorical question, holding out his hand to his Omega Mate, who immediately leaned forward and let him place his hand on the top of her head.
"Alright. We'll take this one," Castiel decided, pushing the mystical-marked collar toward the Alpha salesman.
"Excellent. Good choice," Alpha Park almost growled and stood up. "If you'll come with me, Alpha Castiel... my Omega will wrap the collar for you."
The two Alphas stood and walked together to the counter to settle the payment, while Park's Mate waited until they were gone before getting up to go to the back. Dean was alone with all the collars stacked on the table. He looked at them lying there, looking harmless, and an uncomfortable feeling of confinement began to grow inside him. Until he and Castiel had chosen the collars, it had seemed like a game or a scam. Most of the time, he approached it that way, but now? Suddenly it was real, and Dean realized that he would have to wear the collar as if the Omega belonged to the Alpha. Was he that kind of Omega?
"Your Alpha is very devoted to you and your two scents are unusually compatible. Have you been together long?" The soft and friendly voice of the female Omega surprised him.
He turned his head sharply to meet her brown eyes and the small smile on her red lips. It was strange to look into her eyes and hear her speak so directly. Somehow, he had gotten used to the other Omega keeping silent until asked or until someone asked her to do something, and frankly, he was ashamed of himself. It was so damn wrong. It was as if he realized that it was perfectly fine for her to kneel on the ground and not be able to comment on what was going on around her or have an opinion or a wish of her own.
"Yes, for a while," he nodded. It wasn't true, of course, but he went along with what he and Cas had agreed; they had met when Dean had come here to study at the university. "We're True Mates."
"Me and my Alpha too," Omega said, putting the collar in the box she'd brought with her. It was an oblong golden-colored box containing a satin pillow on which Omega placed the collar and began to tie it with thin golden cords that encircled the entire satin pillow. "It is a great joy to find one's ideal other half. Especially when one is lucky enough to have someone as good and generous as your Alpha."
His nostrils flared as he tried desperately to catch the scent of the other Omega. It wasn't so much to see if he meant what he said. She was a saleswoman, she wanted to make a sale and would say anything to do it. It was more that she sounded uncomfortably sincere, and Dean's inner Omega growled in warning at the suggestion that his Alpha might like another Omega. If he'd known that Omega was already taken, if he'd been marked by scent or even sensed that she was mated... it would have calmed him down. Damn blockers!
"Are we ready to go?" Castiel asked, now standing over them.
Dean lifted his head to him, and honestly, yes, he was glad to have the Alpha's sole attention on him, and he had that power in his eyes that made him feel like the center of his world.
"Sure! Let's go." He jumped to his feet, glad to have this theater over with, and reached out to take the box and collar from the Omega woman.
But she ignored him and instead handed the box to her Alpha, who stroked her hair in return.
"Please, Alpha Novak," Alpha Park said politely, handing Cas the box and offering his hand, which Cas accepted. "It gives me great pleasure that you have chosen me and my shop for your first collar. I hope you will be satisfied and come back again."
"I'll see. You have some interesting pieces here," Castiel's answer surprised Dean, but delighted Park, who smelled sweet pleasure and purred in agreement and delight.
The Alpha salesman greeted him only briefly, not even attempting to shake his hand, before escorting them both to the door he held open for them. With the possibility of Alpha Park watching them through the window, Dean preferred to stay in his role as the obedient, orderly Omega all the way to their car, relaxing, head down, walking beside Castiel, who had one arm around his shoulders and a box and collar under the other. But once the door closed behind him and he was safely behind the tinted glass of Alpha's Mercedest, he let go of all that forced obedience with a sigh and slid down the seat to spread his legs comfortably and throw out his arms.
"Wow... okay, we're done," he sighed, tilting his head to the side to look at Alpha, who had just taken his hand off the intercom - probably telling the golem where to go next - and moved closer to Dean. "Where are we going now?" He asked curiously. He knew they had to check him in, but he didn't know where or how.
"Office of Alpha and Omega Affairs, Mating Registrations and Future Mating Agreements Section," the Alpha replied, placing the box and collar on their touching knees. "You should get your collar on before we get there," he said as he opened the box and began untying the strings.
Dean frowned at the collar. Yeah, it was probably best to come to official places with the collar already on. Showing up without it might mean a fine or something, or it might look like he was breaking Alpha custody rules. And as much as he disliked the custody, he didn't want to end up in jail.
"Fine. Put it on me," Castiel demanded, somehow automatically expecting him to want to do it, and he craned his neck to allow it.
Still, he was caught off guard by the burst of sweet, excited laughter, punctuated by the possessive growl Castiel let out through slightly bared teeth that sent shivers down Dean's spine and made his breath catch a little. That sound was always so damn sexy, and it managed to clench his stomach in just the right way, sending blood rushing to his groin. This time was no different. He breathed in the scent and watched the sharp, stubble-covered jaw and the vein in his neck pulsate as Cas leaned forward and placed the collar around his neck. He was almost unaware that the buckle had snapped and the silk-lined leather had wrapped tightly, but not suffocatingly, around his neck. He didn't notice until Castiel hooked two fingers into the collar and pulled him into a hungry kiss before Dean could even breathe a breath of protest.
He wasn't so much surprised by the sharp fang digging into his lip, or by Cas's passion, because...yeah, hell, yeah, that's what his Alpha was like. Calm, expressionless until he was close to Dean. Then he lost his composure and Dean liked it. He liked that he was the one who could do that to an Alpha like Castiel.
He was more surprised that it didn't scare him when Castiel pulled him close for both of them. Damn it! It wasn't even uncomfortable, it was more... unusual, but it also played to his primitive self. His omega instincts. The need to belong to his Alpha, which he held tight.
He let the need slip out. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's back and reached for the waistband of his pants with his other hand. The moment he touched the buckle, the Alpha growled in frustration and pulled away sharply.
"Ne drazni menya, krasavchik," Cas growled something in Russian, Dean didn't know what, but it sounded both annoyed and excited at the same time, and grabbed both of his wrists to pull his hands to his lips and kiss the knuckles of his fingers. "We can't come to the office smelling like lovemaking."
Dean snorted in frustration and, acknowledging that the Alpha was right, slumped into the corner of his seat with another sigh.
"Fine... fine..." he growled irritably. "I know..."
"But you can come in smelling like me." He bared his teeth in a predatory grin, and before Dean could get any hopes up, he pulled his hands to his sides, grabbed the back of his head, and forced him to bend over with firm, if gentle, pressure.
Then Dean felt the familiar pressure of his chin on his head and a telltale scent began to waft through the car. Dean grunted in satisfaction.
Notes:
Ne drazni menya, krasavchik - Don't tease me, pretty boy
Chapter 69
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was so incredibly funny that he had to purse his lips tightly to keep from laughing out loud. His Alpha, his strong, bloodthirsty mob boss... a tough Russian with a heart frozen by the Siberian winds... the guy he'd seen kill with his bare hands... yes, that was the one standing at the electronic queue, his jaw set in anger, and he'd been trying for several minutes now to figure out which item to print the serial number under.
It was funny, but there were two problems. The smaller one was that there was already a line of angry people behind them. The bigger one was that if the malcontents tried to say anything to Castiel, there was a real risk that the Alpha would break their arms, and that wouldn't be good. It wouldn't be good at all. The cops would come, there would be a trial, some sort of settlement... then the accuser would probably disappear from the world, including the whole family and all that. Dean decided to intervene before that happened.
"Alpha," he said carefully, approaching Cas cautiously from the side.
"Kurva! Chertova byurokratiya! Yesli by vse chinovniki umerli i byli s"yedeny krysami! I pust' izobretatel' etoy adskoy mashiny tozhe umret, kak pyl'naya sobaka!"
"Uh... how about if I take a look at it?" He asked quietly.
Blue eyes glinted sharply from beneath furrowed brows. Dean did what his instincts told him to do and lowered his head and his gaze a little, but he also gave Cas a reassuring smile. He made himself look really innocent, so he was pretty sure it would work on the Alpha, and it did.
"Whatever..." He growled half-mouthed, punching the edge of the machine as he backed away from the touchscreen. Luckily he did it gently, if he had used his Alpha strength the poor machine would have rolled on the floor, but there was still a rumbling sound.
Dean walked over to the screen, reset everything with a single press, and started over. First the Alpha and Omega Affairs Department, then the Mating Registry, and... yeah, there was the problem. There was an option to register a mating ceremony and a request for permission to register a future mating agreement, but there was nothing like Other. OK... he went back to Alpha and Omega Affairs and tapped 'Other'. The machine confirmed the choice and a piece of paper with a serial number came out.
When he turned around with the paper raised in triumph, he was met with a frown from his Alpha, so his enthusiasm had waned a bit.
"I'll just put 'Other' and see what happens," he answered the unspoken question with a slight shrug.
Cas let the air out between clenched teeth but said nothing, just turned on his heel and headed for the seats. Dean followed, following the scent of bitter almonds that wafted from Cas, glancing at the serial number as he did so. There were only 212, a small enough number that the plates had serial numbers between 800 and 1000. That offered some hope that they might not have to spend the rest of the day here.
"Sit down," Alpha ordered.
He sat down and looked around. The large hall was two-thirds filled with cubicles. Above each one was a pillar with a glowing plaque bearing the filing station number and client serial number, and several screens hanging from the ceiling announced the serial number and cubicle number. The cubicle section was separated from the third part of the room, where the rows of uncomfortable but upholstered - and sweaty and possibly soaked - seats were, by a maze of posts with ropes stretched between them. Once, when he wasn't even ten, he and Dad had been to the DMV - Dean had been there to watch Sammy - and it had looked the same. From then on, they avoided the authorities like the devil.
Leaning back, he glanced over to where a Beta-Hispanic woman of about forty sat typing furiously on her phone, then turned his head the other way to find Castiel standing next to him. There was no more room to sit.
"Come sit down, Alpha..." He started to stand up.
"I don't need to sit. I'm going outside to smoke," Cas refused, shoving a plastic folder full of papers into his hand. "They've got all the documents electronically under my immigration number, but I've got everything printed out here, too. If it's my turn before I get back, go in there, give her this and tell her to wait for me," he said, turning and simply walking towards the exit.
Dean sat back down, put the papers on his lap and looked around a little uncertainly, his hand going up to the collar around his neck. He hooked his index and middle fingers into it and began to run his thumb over the distinctive stitching. He'd had to deal with some pretty shitty things in his life, a little more lately than before, but... damn, he'd never had to deal with officers. He didn't know what to do and... he didn't even have his papers with him, and he meant any papers, not just the real ones. He didn't even have fake ones.
He didn't want to shuffle Castiel's papers, but he wanted to look at them, so he started going through them carefully. Most of them he had no idea what they were, but he could tell that some of them were from Immigration, some looked like his name on Alpha's health insurance, then there were papers with his name on them that he guessed were probably his Social Security, and finally there was Cas's passport. He pulled it out, expecting it to be in Russian, but strangely it wasn't. It was the language with the commas and hooks above the letters that was used to write some of the labels on the bottles of liquor Castiel kept at home.
"I have dual citizenship," came close to his ear.
"Shit!" He yelped in shock.
It was the second time in as few days that Cas had startled him by suddenly appearing somewhere. This time he just found him sitting next to himself, comfortably crouched, one elbow resting on the back of the seat, his scent much calmer and sweeter than before. The cigarette had obviously helped, probably because his breath gave off the sweet smell of marijuana in addition to the bitter smell of tobacco. Dean guessed that Cas had taken a joint about half and half.
"You scared the shit out of me," he muttered. "I'm really going to have to give you a bell."
The Alpha said nothing, just raised his eyebrows a little, but otherwise his expression remained more or less impassive, so Dean glanced down at his passport again before closing it and shoving it back into the folder with the other documents.
"So... you're not all Russian?" He asked, really just to keep the conversation going.
"I am. Both my parents were Russian. And I myself was born right in Moscow, but I happen to have Czech citizenship."
"And what country is that?"
"A small country in the middle of Europe," he explained briefly. "When I travel legally, it's only with Czech documents. The Czech Republic is in Schengen, so all I need is an ID card to travel throughout the European Union. And where I need a visa, it's easier for me to get one as a Czech citizen, because the Czech Republic is a low-risk country, unlike Russia. Somewhere," he nodded toward the folder, "is my Russian passport.
To be honest, Dean didn't have much to say. In fact, his knowledge of Europe ended about where he knew that Italy looked like a boot, England and Ireland were islands, and somewhere in between were Germany and France. It wasn't as if he had nothing to do during the breaks, so he stared at the maps on the walls of the classroom like a no-name little Alpha.
His eyes wandered to one of the screens. So far her number wasn't there. He noticed the Alpha looking in the same direction and then looked at his watch.
"I guess we'll sit here for a while..." he drawled.
Cas just grunted in agreement.
"Couldn't Shurley have done it? It would be more comfortable," he asked. He'd already figured that a lawyer would be much better at navigating this place.
"Yes, he could. I'd have to sign the papers in advance, give him my power of attorney and a statement that I'm putting you under his supervision, and you'd have to go with him, but it could be done. But when it comes to you, I prefer to handle everything myself. Besides... an Alpha who arranges guardianship on his own is less likely to be remembered by the officials than an Alpha who sends a lawyer on his behalf."
This made a lot of sense. Still, the whole situation was ridiculous, considering who Castiel really was. Did anyone here have any idea? No, they didn't seem to. Everyone was absorbed in their phones, only looking up when a ding announced that a new serial number had appeared on the screens. People could be completely blind if they wanted to be. They could have a monster sitting right at their desk and still convince themselves that there were no monsters. And that the little world they lived in was perfectly safe and that nothing could ever happen to them. Nothing like murdering their own mother and setting a fire... or being kidnapped by a mob boss. And things like that that were part of Dean's life. And yet any one of them could have ended up just like that.
Another ding announced a new serial number, and to their surprise, it was theirs. Cubicle forty-three. If he could see correctly, it was somewhere in the two-thirds range, so they'd have to hurry before the clerk inside decided to call someone else.
Castiel put a hand on his shoulder as he stood up, using it for support but also squeezing his shoulder to urge him to follow. There was no one in particular he had to play obedient Omega to, just a few guards walking around the waiting people. And then, of course, the officer they were heading for. He probably shouldn't have jumped in front of him too much, considering the position he was in, so he relaxed his shoulders and let his head and eyes drop, letting Case go first.
The cubicles had no doors, so as they walked down the aisle he could hear snippets of other clients' actions. An Alpha/Omega pair, for example, was in the process of registering their mating, and that meant taking a picture of the mating bite for the appropriate paperwork. Dean thought it was pretty intimate to show someone your Bite Mark, knowing that it would be seen not only by a strange official, but by anyone who walked by.
Their cubicle had no door either, and when they entered he immediately noticed the clerical austerity that prevailed. All beige and brown. And everything... desk, chair, printer, computer, filing cabinet... was crammed into a space that could barely fit three people. It was like a chamber of ants whose uniformity was broken only by a black Elvis Presley with a moving head standing on the desk and the clerk herself staring at the screen with a sullen expression. She was a really big black woman, definitely a Beta from the smell, with neon nails and neon braids that didn't match at all with the skimpy gray pantsuit she was wearing.
"Good day," Castiel greeted, and oddly enough, he did so quite politely.
The clerk - now catching sight of her nametag, which read Nancy - turned her eyes, hidden behind large purple glasses, toward them, met their gaze, and wrinkled her nose.
"A bite between two Alphas can't be registered as a Mating, but you can apply for a standard marriage license and get married wherever you want."
"We're not here to register a ?ating, but to register Alpha custody. And he's an Omega." He nodded in Dean's direction.
"Alpha custody?" The clerk asked, as if she didn't know what he was talking about.
Castiel didn't look like he was going to be particularly polite, instead he sat down in one of the chairs and, without looking at Dean, motioned him over to the other and said, "Sit down, Omega," before simply placing the paper he'd pulled out of the folder in front of Beta.
Dean obediently sat down, tasting the scent of basil hidden under some deodorant as he watched Beta Nancy pick up the paper and look at him over the rim of her glasses.
"Omega Dean Winchester was placed in my custody by the court two days ago, I took possession of him yesterday and came to register him today, the legal deadline of two days for registration," he said matter-of-factly, it was obvious he was experienced in cutting through red tape, which was a little odd considering who he was. "The application for registration was submitted electronically by my lawyer, but I have it here in paper form as well, and I have all the other documents in paper form as well," he pulled out everything he had in a plastic bag and placed it in front of the clerk. "My permanent residence permit, documents confirming Omega's identity, and an assumption of criminal and property liability for Omega."
"Okay..." the clerk said, a little uncertain and suspicious at the same time, measuring them both with her eyes. "I'll have to look into the system.
"All right. I'll wait," the Alpha replied calmly, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, sovereignty itself.
The clerk measured them again with a long, searching stare. Dean looked back at her from under his lowered lashes and gave her a shy smile, so that she wouldn't doubt in the slightest that he was an Omega, regardless of the fact that she had mistaken him for an Alpha earlier. Which was pretty stupid of her to mistake him for an Alpha, considering he wore a collar around his neck that was definitely impossible to miss. What kind of Alpha would wear a collar? He didn't know any.
The clerk, apparently convinced by his innocent, vulnerable expression that he was an Omega and therefore nothing strange was going on, turned her attention to her computer.
Apparently it wasn't too hard to find what she was looking for. Probably a court order number or something like that, but even then she stared at the screen for a long time, as if she was busy reading something. Finally, she tore her eyes from the screen and looked at Castiel for a long time.
"In cases like this, I need to contact a supervisor. You'll have to wait a few more minutes," she informed him with appropriate politeness, taking her cell phone from her desk and putting it to her ear after a few taps on the screen. It wasn't long before she got a call on the other end.
"Hello... Nancy Brown... I'm downstairs in cubicle forty-three and I have two clients here for Alpha custody... Yes, yes, really for that... I know, but it's in black and white... and it's in the system and it never lies... yeah, I got that right here," she nodded, sliding a small fingerprint reader across the desk. "Okay, I'll wait." She ended the call, put the phone down, and turned to Castiel. "My supervisor will be here shortly with the ID chip. In the meantime, we can complete the registration of Omega Winchester into the system of esteemed Omegas," he said, half as a suggestion.
Castiel, as was his habit, simply raised his eyebrows and gave her a look so intense that even as a Beta under him, she lowered her eyes and instead quietly went about filling out something on the screen. She used both the papers they had brought with them and probably some kind of electronic system. Truth was, Dean couldn't see much on the screen when it was on, and even though he longed to lean forward and lean against the desk to see what she was doing, he stayed seated and tried to be as quiet as possible. Not that it was easy. A mixture of nervousness about what they were doing and boredom quickly overcame him, and his eyes began to wander over the stereotypical office furniture, the gray carpet with its sparse pattern of thin purple and black stripes, the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, the clerk in the opposite cubicle chewing a sandwich and typing on his computer with his free hand. And, of course, his Alpha, sitting up straight, legs spread, hands resting on the uncomfortable plastic armrests, hypnotizing the clerk with his gaze. He didn't seem as uncomfortable as Dean, and his scent was irritated but not nervous.
Beta finally finished what she was filling out and then turned to them. She glanced at Dean again before turning her attention uncertainly to Castiel.
"Now I need to get your Omega's fingerprints. I need him to place all five fingers of his right hand here in sequence," the instructions were not addressed to Dean directly, but to Castiel, and she pushed the fingerprint reader in his direction.
Cas didn't say anything, just moved the reader in front of him, indicating what to do.
The fingerprint reader was the small type that you could really only put one finger on, and it was obvious that it was already older and a bit fiddly. Dean pulled it closer and hesitated a bit.
"Thumb first," the clerk advised him, probably thinking that he didn't know what to do.
Well... that wasn't exactly true. He'd never been fingerprinted before, but that wasn't why he hesitated. There was a small chance that they might be stored as unidentified somewhere in the system. Fortunately, only a small one. Occasionally he'd steal some food or clothes, or reach over the counter at an unguarded moment to fish a few dollars out of the cash register. Most of the time the pumpers didn't have more than thirty dollars worth of damage, and the police weren't called for something that small because it meant maybe a half day's closure, and that was a much bigger loss than the value of the stolen goods or the money from the register. But there might have been some crazy, righteous citizen who would have reported even that small loss, and then yes, the police would have lifted the fingerprints and entered them into the system as the fingerprints of an unknown thief. Hmm... the question was whether the courts would even want to deal with such a small theft. Often it just ended up with community service and restitution, so probably no problem.
Maybe it was just generally not a good idea to have fingerprints in the system, but then again... they were just fingerprints. They could be sanded down. DNA collection... that was a much bigger problem. So he placed one finger after the other, as instructed. He had to repeat the experiment for most of them because the old reader didn't pick up his print the first time, but eventually all of them were read, and while the system processed his prints, Dean waited, half anxious and half curious, to see if the prints would be matched to a crime scene.
"All right. Everything's locked in," Beta informed them, and in a way it was a little disappointing that none of his transgressions were worth anyone's attention.
At that moment, there was a knock on the cubicle wall, and a corpulent Beta with graying hair and a mustache stood in the doorway. He was wearing a striped shirt that was two sizes too small, and cheap gray pants below his bulging navel. He smelled like a hamster, plus cigarettes and the typical sweet floral aroma that had nothing to do with natural pheromones but rather neglected diabetes. There was a putrid tinge to it as well, and judging from the limp way Beta walked in, Dean guessed that if he pulled up his pants, at least one leg would have a nasty ulcer. He'd met a few of these diabetes-ridden dudes in his life.
"Hi... my name is Bob Garcia and I'm the head of Alpha and Omega affairs and I'm here to put a registration chip on Omega's collar," he explained in one sentence, holding up the device in his hand. It looked a lot like the magnetic tag locks that were put on clothes, and the chip he showed in his other hand looked familiar as well. A black hat, only smaller than the ones they put on clothes.
Dean frowned slightly, an involuntary thought that might damage the collar. Not that he cared that much. It was a collar, damn it. It was just... he'd lost the jacket their Alpha had given him recently, as well as Castiel's cross, not to mention all the rest of his clothes and jewelry. Somehow, he didn't like the idea of another thing Cas had given him being destroyed.
"Alpha Novak," Castiel introduced himself, nodding his head in Dean's direction. "Omega Winchester."
"Good. All right. Omega should stand up so I can put the chip on his collar," this Bob said, and again he wasn't speaking directly to Dean, but to Castiel.
In this case, he didn't wait for the Alpha to translate, even with a gesture, he wanted to get this over with and get out of here, so he just stood up. Much to Bob's surprise and confusion. He wasn't confused by the fact that Dean had stood up, but by the fact that an Omega was standing over him by a good inch and maybe a bit. The expression on his face was really funny, and it took a lot of work for Dean to keep his corners from popping up, but he managed it and instead batted his eyelashes and smiled guiltily, as if he was sorry he was so tall. But he actually enjoyed the uncertainty he saw in the man's eyes and expression.
"Perhaps it would be better if you remained seated," the clerk finally spoke directly to him.
"Sure, sir," Dean replied in his best innocent voice, sitting back down obediently while chuckling to himself. He glanced at Castiel, whose expression was generally neutral, but his practiced eye caught a flash of amusement in the blue depths and a hint of laughter at the corners, and of course a hint of sweet amusement that none of the Betas could smell.
The walrus man moved behind him, and unfortunately, his not-so-pleasant scent masked even Castiel's distinct cherry scent. Dean wrinkled his nose a little, but of course, he didn't let on how much the Beta man smelled to him. After all... it was very rude to comment negatively on someone's scent, and he was well-mannered enough not to do that to people who didn't deserve it.
A hand rested on the back of his head. Rationally, he knew the guy just wanted him to bow his head, but the touch was too intimate for his Omega to miss. She growled, and he growled back at her, and his growl was joined by a warning growl from Castiel, making both Betas tense and nauseous.
"No growling here on pain of a fine of up to five hundred dollars," the Beta, standing behind Dean and still touching him, warned them both.
"I won't growl if you take your hand off the back of my Omega's head," Alpha told him without another growl, but emphatically enough that his hand immediately disappeared from Dean's head.
He didn't get an apology, but not having someone else's claws in a place reserved for his Alpha was enough.
He bowed his head more or less willingly, leaving the usher to begin the task of attaching the chip to the back of his collar. It didn't go very well. Beta's fingers were thick, and when he stuck them under the leather strap to loosen it and slide one side of the chip underneath, the collar bit into the front of Dean's muzzle. He hooked his own fingers into it to relieve the uncomfortable pressure that imaginatively robbed him of his breath, only to make Beta's task more difficult. It was all pushing and shoving, skin against skin, the creaking of the taut material of the collars and the snapping of the plastic, and it took a hell of a long time.
"Is it done?" asked Dean impatiently, not caring that it didn't quite fit the good Omega he was playing with. What the hell was that guy doing in there for so long? Using the machine to lock the security chips on clothes was easy. He knew that. They'd gotten one of those things and carried it around in their car so they could remove the tags from stolen items.
"Almost," Beta hummed. How could he be so exhausted from attaching a single chip?
Then, finally, there was the familiar sound of two magnets clicking together, accompanied by Bob's exhausted and happy sigh.
"Done. Now I just have to load it," the clerk said with satisfaction. The fabric rustled as he took something out of his pocket, and instantly there was the beep of a chip being read.
Good, it looked like it was finally done. Resisting the urge to feel the chip, Dean reached for the back of his neck. He felt the small stainless steel clip first, then moved a little further to where Beta was working hardest, only to hit the slightly roughened surface of the relatively small cap of the chip's plastic casing. He ran his fingers over it, then over the rest of the collar... and it dawned on him. The son of a bitch had placed the chip in such a way that the collar could not be removed.
"What the hell...?! I'm not taking the collar off like that!"
Fuck the role of the obedient Omega. He wasn't going to wear that damn collar twenty-four hours a day. Even dogs didn't have to do that. They took their collars off at home too, so why the hell would a human do it?
"Of course not," the clerk said in a heavy tone. "No one wants Omega delinquents roaming the world at will... unchipped and uncollared."
"I'm not a...!"
"Shut up, Omega," Castiel interrupted in a commanding tone, and Dean's Omega immediately laid down and obeyed the Alpha's order, and that meant Dean was shutting up, whether he wanted to or not.
But nothing stopped him from glaring at the damn bitch who approved of him wearing a collar all the time and everywhere, which was just humiliating. The fact that he was technically a juvenile delinquent didn't change anything.
"Anything else?" Alpha asked, giving no indication of what he thought of Dean's inability to remove the collar, which was annoying, frustrating, and a little embarrassing.
"I still need you to sign this," the clerk said, pushing the paper across the table. "It's a document accepting responsibility for loss or damage to government property, specifically the chip on collar. And that you have made a refundable deposit of fifty dollars for it. Then you have to pay some processing fees."
Great! So the chip still had to be paid for, as if it wasn't enough that they had tagged Dean with it like a lost animal.
The Alpha just leaned forward to sign the paper she'd given him and then pulled out his wallet so he could use the card to pay all the fees. There was something absurdly normal about it all, as if it were nothing more than a dog registration fee.
"All of it?" Castiel asked as he put the wallet back in his inside jacket pocket, then picked up the folder of documents they'd brought from the table.
"Yes," Bob nodded this time, and then who knows why he put on a look of mixed pride and gratitude. "I just wanted to add that it's really great that you're taking care of a homeless Omega who's also..."
"We're leaving, Dean," the Alpha said in the middle of Beta's speech, as if he hadn't even noticed him, hadn't even looked in the guy's direction, had just gotten up and left the booth without a greeting or a word.
The words died on Beta Bobo's tongue, in fact he was left with his mouth hanging open in confused shock, though he still had the presence of mind to squeeze into the corner - quite a feat for someone of his walrus proportions - to make way for the departing Alpha.
Dean grinned in amusement. At this point, it probably didn't matter what the two Betas thought of him, so he stopped pretending, rose to his full height until he towered over both of them, and said through bared teeth:
"It was not my pleasure."
He didn't wait for anything, just walked out quickly and caught up with his Alpha, who was already taking long strides between the booths toward the rope labyrinth. Dean wanted to get rid of the collar, but he couldn't do it right away. He'd have to wear it until they were safely inside the tinted windows of the Mercedes. Until then, there was only one thing he could do: tug nervously at it, moving the buckle and chip a little to the left and then back to the right.
Golem, of course, got out of the car the moment he saw them coming, and by the time they reached the back door, he was standing there, holding it open. Castiel slipped in first, Dean right behind him. And no sooner had the door closed behind them than his hand automatically went to the pocket of his pants where he normally would have kept his knife, but this time he felt nothing but a complete emptiness.
"Do you have a knife?" He asked, annoyed that he didn't even have his pocket knife, and tugged at his collar again.
"What's a knife for?"
"I want to cut off the collar."
"No," came the short answer and a hint of disapproval.
He looked at Alpha in confusion.
"No what? Don't you have a knife?" He didn't understand.
"You're not taking off your collar."
"I'm not going to wear it everywhere, all the time," he replied sharply, with an appropriate growl, tugging at the collar again.
"Since you can't undo it, you will. There's no other choice."
"Hell, there is! I'll just cut the collar, and I don't care - "
"Din!" Castiel interrupted again in a commanding tone that simply shut him up, and the dominance and sharpness in the Alpha's stare made him want to at least look away again, if not bow his head. "You can't go outside without a chipped collar. If they catch you without a collar, they can take you away from me. I'm not going to risk that. You'll have to accept that you'll have to wear a collar permanently."
He gritted his teeth. Hell yeah, Cas was right, and there was no point in getting mad. He didn't want to end up in juvenile detention, which probably wasn't much different from Sun Hill, and as far as he knew, the Omega prisoners there had to wear collars all the time, too, so it would come out the same anyway. It's just that... Wearing a collar made him too much of an Omega, definitely more than he liked.
He looked up, perhaps to tell Castiel why the collar bothered him so much, when something struck him at the sight of Alpha's straight face. He wasn't surprised at all that they'd put a chip on his collar so it couldn't be removed. Besides, when they'd been in the shop, Alpha had specifically requested a collar that would never have to be removed.
"You knew that, didn't you? You knew I wouldn't be able to take the collar off, and when you promised I wouldn't have to wear it at home, that was a lie," he said mercilessly, and when he saw the sharp glint and warning in Castiel's eyes, despite his instincts urging him to back down, he did not back down, but glared at his Alpha with a defiant, rebellious look.
"Watch your mouth, Omega. I don't like being called a liar," Castiel warned him, his voice thicker than his usual accent.
"And what else should I call you? You made a promise and didn't keep it."
"I promised not to make you wear a collar. I didn't know it would keep you from taking it off."
"But you knew it would..." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Dean was sure.
"Da... yes..." the Alpha admitted. "I suspected it might happen."
"And you didn't tell me."
"There was no other way anyway, so why add fuel to the fire unnecessarily? You were already like an angry cat."
This was fucking unreal. Why couldn't the Alpha understand such a simple thing, that Dean wanted to know about everything that concerned him? That he wanted to be able to make his own decisions, to have his own plans, to find his own solutions to problems and not just be confronted with a fait accompli? Oh yeah, he didn't understand that because he was a damn Alpha Knot and they never understood that people, especially Omegas, could make their own decisions and didn't need someone else to run their lives.
Dean turned away angrily.
"Yeah, you're right. This thing pisses me off," he tugged at his collar. "It pisses me off," he turned back to Case, "because it makes me less than an animal. It reminds me that I'm not in charge anymore, that I have no right to anything. And what pisses me off the most is how happy it makes you. You love that you can own me. Make my decisions for me. Ordering me around. All you keep saying is how you want an equal partner," he spat out the two words with a sneer, "but all you really want is an obedient Omega with a knothole, good only to give birth to the heir to your criminal empire."
"Dean..." the Alpha interjected, his tone not so much angry or offended but rather exasperated, the sourness of the roasted cherries asserting itself in the scent to reflect his frustration.
"I'll tell you one more thing, you didn't pick a good Omega because I will never submit to you," he vowed to continue resisting, but he said it more bitterly than decisively, averting his eyes from the window. He didn't even want to look at the Alpha and was actually pleased when his nose was tickled by the smell of the rejected Alpha with a hint of sourness.
"Dean... Dorogay..." the Alpha tried again, leaning over and putting his hand on Dean's.
"Get off me!" He hissed, pulling his hand out from under Castiel's.
"Omega...look at me, Omega!" Castiel challenged him again in a commanding manner, but this time Dean didn't give in, no matter how much his Omega whined and wanted him to do anything to keep his Alpha from getting angry with him. He continued to stare stubbornly out the window at the passing streets full of pedestrians and cars.
There was a frustrated sound from the Alpha and he grabbed Dean's chin and literally turned him violently against him. He responded by baring his teeth and growling, which the Alpha returned, but much more gently than he could have.
"Stop being angry and listen. This," he tugged lightly at the collar, "isn't forever."
"No, it isn't. Just until I'm twenty-one." He grinned.
"No, Dean, until eighteen at the most," the Alpha surprised him with his answer, which must have been reflected in his scent because Cas' tense posture relaxed a bit. "I have no intention of keeping you in my care for that long. From the beginning, I expected to relinquish custody as soon as you reached the age of majority and make sure you regained all your rights."
"Really?" He asked, mostly surprised, but also hopeful.
"Da... of course," the Alpha nodded, gentleness in his voice and in the depth of the blue lagoons of his eyes. "Think about it rationally... Do you know how many complications this custody brings me? I need you to take care of our lair, but how can you do that when you can't even pay for food? Whenever you go anywhere without me, I have to send one of my men with you and give him written permission to accompany you. Not to mention if we have a puppy before you're twenty-one. You couldn't take him to the doctor alone or take him to the park. This custody thing is just as hard for me as it is for you.
That... that all sounded pretty logical, actually, and it hadn't occurred to him until now that this whole situation was actually fraught with problems and other shit for Castiel, too. All this time, he'd been focused on how it was going to affect him, and he just hadn't seen it coming, and frankly, he was kind of embarrassed about it now. Castiel was his Alpha and all his instincts, his Omega, were telling him to take care of his Alpha and he was failing pretty badly at taking care of him right now.
Both guilt and probably a little shame, and mostly just the need to take care of his Alpha, made him shrug his shoulders and push his anger to the back of his mind. Or at least most of it. He still hated the whole concept of owning a collared and chipped Omega with no rights, but he was no longer angry at Castiel for being such an Omega, but at the stupid politicians and the whole damned unfair world around him. And he found even that anger rather pointless. As if he'd ever been naive enough to think that he, of all people, could get justice. Don't be such a princess and man up, Winchester. It's just a collar that can be cut off if you have to. It's not like you have a chip somewhere under your skin that you can't get rid of. Besides, this collar... your Alpha's collar... has nothing to do with the collar that bastard put on you at the shelter. You'll get used to it.
"Sorry, Cas. I didn't think that way," he admitted his mistake and let his eyes drop for a moment.
"Then start thinking," the Alpha replied, not entirely unfriendly, but not unkind either, and let go of Dean's chin so he could sit back down.
Dean glanced up to see that Cas wasn't watching him, but was reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, his whole posture distant. . He looked for a moment at the man's sharp chin, the scar it bore, and the way the pale, slightly chapped lips curled around the cigarette, uncertainty and guilt gnawing at his insides at the sight. He'd been bitchy with Case and said some really nasty things, and his Omega had whispered that he should make it up to him, and Dean had decided to take her advice this time.
He cleared his throat slightly to draw attention to himself, but it had no more effect than the flash of blue thrown his way.
"What about the shoes?" He asked, deliberately as casually as he could, tilting his head slightly to the side to expose his neck.
This time he had Alpha's full attention and received a questioning raised eyebrow in response.
"You said you'd buy me some shoes. Some better than these." He lifted his foot to reveal a white boot. "I'd like some leather ones, above the ankle. Shall we go buy them?" He looked at Castiel through his eyelashes.
It wasn't like he really needed the boots or anything, he could do without them, but he'd learned one thing in the time he'd known Alpha; he loved to give him gifts. He always smelled so sweet, and this time was no exception. His scent might not have been as great as other times, and there was an undertone of frustration, but the lines in Cas's face deepened and a gentle warmth crept into his eyes, and when he raised his hand in a silent invitation for Dean to come over, he knew he'd won.
He couldn't help but smile, noticing that his own scent had been infused with a sweet aroma as he moved across the seat and let Alpha wrap his arms around his shoulders.
"Da... da... of course I'll buy you any shoes you want, moy sladkiy," he purred, planting a kiss in Dean's hair.
He lifted his head to him.
"And then we'll go get some cake and something to eat, how about that?"
Castiel's soft laugh and the fingers that dug into Dean's hair were not only an affirmation to him, but caused a pleasantly warm feeling to expand in his chest. Smiling, he rested his head on Castiel's shoulder.
°°0°°
He frowned at the message from Pyotr. The weapons delivery, which was due tomorrow evening, would be at least five days late. That was disturbing. They were only resellers, and they already had buyers lined up for a good half of the boxes. There was nothing they could do, they would have to wait. Smuggling wasn't like normal business. It wasn't enough to just load the crates into a container and ship them across the ocean. And if you wanted Russian quality and good prices, you had to wait.
"Problem?" came the question from Dean, his voice slurred because his mouth was full of food.
Castiel turned to him and his inner Alpha growled with satisfaction, despite the awkwardness of the weapon situation. The sight of his omega brought him unprecedented pleasure as Dean lay stretched out on the seat, one leg in Castiel's lap and the other propped up on the floor next to the open pie box, a large cup of lemonade clutched between his thighs, munching on a bite of omega Aunt Molly's farm chicken. And the scent of apple blossom and fresh pine resin was strong despite the suppressants he had been forced to take, laced with a satisfying sweetness.
"Just business. Nothing important," he replied, swiping his cell phone and returning it to his jacket pocket. Then his hand moved to the ankle of Dean's leg.
"Oukey," Omega grumbled disinterestedly, biting into the juicy chicken leg he'd pulled from the bucket that was also on the ground, while clutching a half-eaten wing in his other hand. Castiel stopped counting how many wings it was, but it was certainly the sixth. Dean's appetite was simply unbelievable, and there was still something fascinating and a little bit exciting about the fact that he could stuff his mouth with so much food. And satisfying, too, because food made Dean happy despite his previous angry mood. He'd even stopped tugging at his collar.
The collar... At that thought, Castiel's gaze slid to the thin strip of skin that encircled Dean's high, creamy throat and the silver emblem on the front. Seeing his Omega wearing a collar and knowing that now everyone would know to whom the Omega belonged was unusually satisfying. He'd never felt anything like that before, not even with Dean. The emotions he was able to bring out in Castiel were stronger and more intense than any he had ever known. Unfortunately, it wasn't just a desire to protect Dean or a fear for him when he wasn't around, it was also outbursts of jealousy and possessiveness that were almost... disturbing. He didn't really know how to deal with it. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Dean just had a way of driving him crazy.
"I really thought I was about ten and a half," Dean broke the ensuing silence, lifting the foot on which he wore a new pair of dark brown, military-style, buffed leather boots with a reinforced toe. "I can't believe it's eleven and a half all of a sudden. If this keeps up, I'm going to have feet like a clown." He grinned cheerfully as he said this. "I'm going to get red shoes and a nose and scare Sammy. He's afraid of clowns."
"I'd say you'll outgrow your feet soon enough," he replied, not wanting to get involved in a conversation about Dean's brother. He was glad that young Samuel was far away with his foster family, where he would stay if Castiel had anything to say about it, which he surely would. Not only did he have no desire to deal with the spoiled puppy and thus another short-tempered Winchester, and with Dean it was pleasantly stimulating to the point of being amusing, he was also convinced that the young Alpha would do much better there. In fact, he had even gone so far as to inquire about the family he had been entrusted to care for, and that for purely selfish reasons. If Omega ever began to insist that he wanted his brother, he could easily show him that Samuel was with people who would give him a good home and, more importantly, the security that living near the Bratva could never provide.
"Yeah, right..." Dean muttered, curling the toes of his unskilled foot as he tossed the chewed chicken wing back into the bucket.
Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly, tilted his head to the side, gave Omega a questioning look, and took a drag on his cigarette.
Dean, catching his unspoken question, merely raised an eyebrow.
"Honey, I'm Omega and I'm five point seven feet tall. I guess that's all I give."
It was true that Dean was already above the average height of an adult Omega male, but...
"You're only sixteen and still growing," he disagreed, earning a surprised look of disbelief with a hint of uncertainty and a touch of something he recognized as shame but didn't understand. What was Omega ashamed of? His size? It was unnecessary and absurd. Dean was beautifully built and his muscular proportions matched his height perfectly. If he was the size of an average Omega, he'd look like those ridiculous Betas from the gyms who thought steroids and hours of weight training could make up for their innate Alpha strength.
"You've grown at least half an inch in the time we've known each other."
Dean chuckled.
"Then I'll outgrow you in no time." He arched an eyebrow.
He narrowed his eyes and grunted in satisfaction. As always, he liked the idea.
Dean sucked in air and raised both eyebrows in surprise.
"You like it!"
"Da. Of course," he rubbed his ankle and ran a hand up his firm calf. "I like tall, muscular men. If they're taller and more muscular than me and still bend over for me, that's the absolute best," he said the simple truth, hiding a rueful smile behind the last puff of his cigarette.
Dean's cheeks flushed a little, revealing his unmistakable light freckles on his nose, and his scent filled with sweet Omega arousal mixed with cute embarrassment. Castiel's inner Alpha growled and he growled with him, leaning in a little so he could kiss Omega on at least one knee as the unmistakable smell of burning filter filled the air. With a sigh, he pulled away to lean against the door, where he tipped the ashtray and smothered a tiny cigarette butt in it. But before he leaned back in his seat, he did as he had intended and kissed Dean's bare, green, bruised knee that protruded from the hole in his jeans. And he would have liked to continue, especially when he heard the satisfied sound Omega made, but there was still tomorrow to discuss. Better now, while it was still quiet. They had half an hour at most before they had to leave this place overlooking the coast and before Dean had to be taken home and take care of business.
"I've arranged a meeting tomorrow at your old school," he began, getting Dean's immediate attention. "You'll go back there for now so you don't miss any more than you have to, but I want to find a better school for you soon. One that will help you continue your studies at the university."
"University?" He asked, surprised and not very enthusiastic at the same time, which was a bit confusing. "I doubt I'll get into one. I have a terrible average, no extracurricular activities, and one bad behavior record after another. Even some suspensions and expulsions. So I'm really good college material!" He grinned ironically.
"There's still time to change that. There are private schools that focus on Omega education..."
"I'll never go there in my life!" Omega cut him off with his usual and irritating defensiveness to anything Castiel said or suggested.
He replied with a disgruntled snarl between slightly bared teeth.
"Why do you always have to disagree with everything I say?"
"Don't you know what these schools are like?" Dean asked in return, dropping the unfinished chicken leg into the bucket with the others and pulling himself up to a sitting position with ease. "Most claim to help Omegas get into their dream career, but they only do so if that career is something like nurse, nanny, kindergarten teacher, or failed artist. They won't help them be... I don't know... mechanical engineer, because that's not a career for Omegas."
He had to admit that Dean was probably right. But the main point wasn't the education per se, but the creation of a good profile. He had been thinking for some time that it would be a good idea to entrust his American assets to someone so that the cop rats wouldn't get them if something went wrong, but he hadn't found anyone trustworthy enough. Dean would be perfect. He was his omega, and he trusted him even before he really knew him. Besides, despite the life he led, Omega managed to keep a clean record and was a native American. A college degree, or at least a good high school diploma, would add to his credibility.
Castiel was determined to use Dean in this way, there was no need to discuss it. It would be beneficial to both of them and their future pup. But there could be talk about what Dean would be studying.
"Is that what you want to study?" He asked; Dean frowned in disbelief. "Mechanical engineering or some other technical field?"
Omega gave him an incredulous look.
"With my grades... and considering I'm an Omega...? Unless in another reality." He curled his lips in mockery. "But if you're asking what I'd like to do besides being a Mafia Omega hubby, I think I'd like to work in a garage. You know... hands covered in oil, the hood open on a classic car... and all that. But that's never going to happen. It's not a job for Omegas either," he added with a bitter smile, his scent souring with genuine sadness.
Castiel wrinkled his nose slightly at how unpleasant the smell was to him, and his Alpha growled, bristling and ready to fight the enemy that had harmed his Omegas, which of course didn't exist. He pushed his instincts to the back of his mind, preferring to think rationally about what Dean was saying.
Maybe the university wasn't right for Dean, even if it would give him the right social profile. Omega was right when he said he wasn't the studious type, and although he was very smart and resourceful, it was really hard to imagine him sitting at a university desk and being focused and efficient all the time. He could be distracted by just about anything.
But there was another way to give him gravitas. He could become the young owner of a thriving business. That would raise questions, but it would also raise admiration and appreciation. Or he could play it both ways. Trying to work his way up to a university while providing the background to take over a small auto repair shop.
"Okay. You'll stay at the school you went to, but only if your grades improve."
"You really want to check my grades?"
"Yes," he nodded. "You have to understand, sladkiy, that you are now my Omega, my future mated Mate and husband. And the future father of my puppies. You have to have a certain level."
"Okay... well... I'll try, okay?" He agreed with his usual reluctance, whereupon he reached for the bucket lying on the ground and pulled out a pristine thigh. "Now I'll take the chicken."
Castiel frowned in confusion. This was one of those changes of subject that Dean was adept at and always managed to derail him, at least for a little while.
"Chto?"
"Food. Chicken. Very good," Dean enunciated slowly, carefully, as if he didn't think Castiel would understand him. That happened sometimes, even when English was a simple language, but the problem was usually slang, not basic sentences.
He squinted his eyelids and focused on Dean's face, on his amusedly glowing green eyes and the way the corners of his pink, plump lips quivered.
"You've got to be kidding me..." he muttered, slightly annoyed.
Omega bit his lip and lowered his eyes for a moment, as if in submission, only to raise them again when it was clear he was just trying to hold back a laugh.
" Yeah, a little, Alpha, but..." He lifted a thigh. "You really should eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
"Yeah... well... you haven't eaten all day. All you do is smoke and nothing else, and yet..." The humor had faded from Dean's voice and expression, and his scent had turned a little sour. "You're pretty thin, huh? Skinnier than before... Look, you know what? Whatever. Forget it..." he said with a shrug, looking away and putting the chicken leg aside.
Omega's entire posture and scent conveyed disappointment and concern as well, though he tried to look unconcerned. Omega's nurturing instincts. This was especially true for the family, especially the puppies, but also for the Alphas the Omegas considered their own. Dean considered him his own. Dean was worried about him, and Castiel felt a strong urge to do something to ease that worry.
"I'll have a piece," he said, though he wasn't hungry, and reached for the chicken the Omega offered.
He was rewarded with a beautiful smile, the sweet smell of happiness, and a glow in his green eyes.
Notes:
Kurva! - It's not a Russian word, it's a Czech word. Literally it is a derogatory term for a prostitute or a woman of easy manners, figuratively it is used in the same way as "fuck".
Chertova byurokratiya! Yesli by vse chinovniki umerli i byli s"yedeny krysami! I pust' izobretatel' etoy adskoy mashiny tozhe umret, kak pyl'naya sobaka! - Bloody bureaucracy! May all bureaucrats die and be eaten by rats! And may the inventor of this infernal machine die like a mangy dog!
Chapter Text
He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to Alpha, who was just fastening his watch and looking as neutral as ever, apparently paying no attention to the security guard describing his route to the Headmistress's office.
"... And then it's to the right and almost to the end of the hall. There is a sign on the door. You'll find it easily, Alpha," the guard said curtly - he wasn't usually like this, yelling and cursing and shoving anyone who walked through the doorway - and lifted the tray on which Castiel's rings were resting a little.
"Good. Thank you," he thanked, but still didn't give the guard more than a sideways glance and began to put the rings on.
Dean had been ready to calm Alpha down on the way to the school, thinking he would be irritated at having to take off all his jewelry and take things out of his pockets and go through the security frame, but oddly enough, he wasn't. He felt only mild annoyance and did as the guard asked without protest.
"Come on, Dean," Cas urged him and started down the hallway.
The guard looked Dean over from head to toe and frowned. As usual, Dean gave him a beaming smile, because he didn't give a shit what some chubby Beta with a big ego and little power thought of him, and joined his Alpha at his side.
It was morning and classes were in session. The halls were more or less empty, and the few students who weren't in class for some reason were relatively quiet. Certainly quieter than during the breaks. And the air was cleaner, since he'd managed to get through the air conditioning since the break, but Castiel wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips. Dean sniffed, but he didn't smell anything that should have caused such a reaction, just the usual school smells, from the mix of pheromones to the smell of sweaty feet and sweatier Alpha jocks to the smells of school snacks.
They walked in silence. They went down a hallway, up some stairs, down another hallway, and down another hallway until they reached a door labeled "The Principal's Office" with the principal's name "Ebony Phillips" below it. The Alpha knocked and, after being told to enter, opened the door.
It looked similar to the Deputy Principal's office, only the secretary wasn't an elderly Beta in glasses, but a thirty-something Omega with a petite, delicate figure endowed in all the right places, just as Omegas should look, and a scent of papaya and horseradish that was clearly tinged with the aroma of pregnancy, though Omega tried to hide it a little under her loose blouse.
The Alpha paused at a more than polite distance from the table, from which Omega gave him a quick glance before letting her eyes wander somewhere around Castiel's chest, just as Omega should, and stood.
"Alpha Novak. I'm going to see Principal Phillips," Cas said, tilting his head a little to the side as if he wanted nothing to do with Omega's secretary, his scent taking on a bitter undertone that twisted the nose of not only the Dean standing next to him, but Omega's secretary as well. Her reaction was predictable; she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck, her scent amplified by the soothing Omega pheromones that seemed to have a surprisingly opposite effect on Alpha. His lips parted slightly, golden fangs flashing, and a crooked growl emanated from his throat.
Omega's secretary looked up at him sharply, not exactly startled or anything, but a little confused, and then quickly glanced down at the papers on her desk.
"Of course, Alpha. Principal Phillips is expecting you now," she said helpfully, her voice low and generally submissive, and made a motion as if to walk around the desk and open it for them.
Castiel raised his hand.
"I'll announce myself," he declined, and was at the principal's door before the secretary could make the first move.
He knocked and opened the door almost immediately, this time without waiting for an invitation.
The principal's office looked exactly like the deputy principal's office, only it was on the opposite side, since the entire office was on the other side of the building. This meant that the principal - a sixty-something Beta black woman with slightly graying hair, combed straight and pulled into a tight bun, a slightly goat-faced face, skinny arms, and bony shoulders that showed under her black sweater - had light coming in from the window on her right.
The outfit was much the same. Same furniture, except there was a comfortable-looking sofa against the wall that Dean guessed probably belonged directly to the headmistress, and besides the usual diplomas and awards, there was a photo of New York at night on the wall and a whole collection of family photos of children, grandchildren, and dogs on the desk.
In addition to the Principal, the Deputy Principal was also present, sitting in one of the three chairs facing the Principal's seat, only his was turned to the side so that he had an equal view of the other two chairs, which were probably set up for him and Case.
The Alpha had left the door open behind them, so Dean automatically closed it and looked at the gruff deputy principal he'd last seen when they'd taken the ones from Child and Youth Services. He didn't look pleased to see Dean, but when he turned to Castiel, his expression changed to one of professional friendliness, and like the principal, he stood to greet Cas.
"Alpha Novak..." the Principal extended her hand across the table, first to Alpha, then turning to Dean, offered it to him as well; he accepted it a little uncertainly. "And Omega Winchester... welcome to Brookside High School. I'm Principal Phillips, and this is Deputy Principal Mr. Parker," she nodded to her deputy, who, unlike her, only shook Alpha's hand and rather ignored Dean. "Please have a seat..She invited them with a nod to the empty seats.
Castiel touched the back of one of the chairs and gave him a quick look. He understood immediately. It was an invitation to sit down first, so he did, trying not to smile as he glanced over Case, who had taken the seat next to him, at the Assistant Director. It looked as if someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, and he tried not to flinch. Castiel's behavior showed how much he appreciated Dean, and the deputy probably couldn't take it.
"When your secretary called me"-since when the hell did Castiel have a secretary?! -I understood that you were interested in having the young man in your care, Omega Winchester, resume his studies at our school."
"Yes," he gave the headmistress a short, curt answer, spoken in a throaty, accented voice, and nothing more. As was his custom. Never a word wasted.
Of course, the Headmistress had been expecting something more, probably some cajoling or maybe even an Alpha pose, and so Cas' brevity surprised her. She remained silent for a few moments, waiting to see if he'd say anything else, and her faint Beta scent - Dean picked up something that smelled like spent gunpowder, a somewhat odd scent for a woman - reflected a hint of her confusion, but she quickly regained her form and turned to face the screen, as her second-in-command had done when he'd received Dean about two months ago. It was easy to figure out what was on the screen, and considering the time that had passed since he'd joined the school, it was quite possible that even more records of his transgressions at past schools had found their way into the files here. And that must have made for interesting reading.
He would end up with one of those at an Omega school, just because they wouldn't want to take him here anymore.
"From what I see here, I'm afraid that won't be possible," he said, turning back to Castiel.
The scent of bitter almonds, which had been just a hint under the roasted cherries and only a little stronger than usual, was much stronger now and although there was no sign of it on Alpha's face, Dean knew that he wasn't happy with the answer. He was sure it wasn't because he wanted to come here and Cas had promised to get him into the school, it was just that he wasn't used to the word 'no' and he didn't like hearing it.
"Why won't that be possible?"
"Many reasons," the brave Beta said, standing up to him. "First of all, there are... special circumstances involving Omega Winchester. During my time as professor and then headmistress, only five students who were in Alpha custody attended this school. None in the last 15 years. We don't have the financial or human resources to ensure that Omega is always accompanied by someone."
"My lawyer says that's not necessary," Cas half interrupted her. "It will be sufficient if the person who has my written authority to care for Omega is in the same building as him and sees to his coming and going from the school. That means picking Dean up from my driver in the morning before school and returning him to the driver in the afternoon."
It was obvious that the principal was prepared for this argument because she didn't lose her cool.
"That's what our lawyer said, and yes, it could be a solution, but it doesn't solve the other problems..." she brought up, and at that moment Dean knew that his poor attendance and behavior at his previous schools would come into question. "Omega Winchester is a student with below average grades, and our school has had rising averages for the past few years. By admitting him, we would lower that average. I don't know how it is in your country, but here in our country, the lower the student's GPA, the less funding the school receives from the government."
"I see. But if you hire Dean and his grades improve, you'll show that you have a quality teaching program."
Cas's argument was clever, but again, the principal was prepared for it.
"It's not just about grades... Omega Winchester has been in over fifty schools and has had a string of disciplinary infractions since he was twelve. Truancy, disrespect for teachers, and willful destruction of school property are just the minor ones. There are also cases on his record where he was suspected of theft or several suspensions for physical assaults against classmates, and we take that very seriously here".
"I've never attacked anyone!" He automatically defended himself. "They were all Knots who either attacked me first or bullied someone else. A weaker one. Mostly an Omega."
"There is no legitimate reason to physically attack another student. If you witnessed someone else behaving inappropriately, you should have reported it to a teacher," the headmistress told him in a far from reprimanding tone.
He chuckled.
"Right, because Alphas who venture onto Omegas, sometimes someone prevents --"
"Omega," Castiel interrupted in a commanding tone.
He turned, a protest on his tongue for only saying what was true and for never in his life attacking anyone weaker or undeserving, but the gleam in his blue eyes stopped him in his tracks and silenced him. The Alpha wasn't really angry, but his look and his almond scent were a warning and a reminder that Dean should play the role of obedient Omega in public.
So he reluctantly complied by lowering his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Alpha. I'll be quiet now."
"I can make sure that he doesn't do something like that again," Alpha promised, as if he could make the decision for Dean.
"But that's not good enough," the principal replied. "I'm sorry you had to make the trip here, but given Omega's status as a ward, his grades and behavior at previous schools, and his minor disciplinary infractions at our school as well, we simply cannot re-admit him. However, I can recommend some more suitable schools for him that have special programs for young Omegas like him," the old witch dared to suggest as she placed several paper brochures in front of Castiel.
The Alpha looked impassively at the glossy brochures with pictures of happy teenage Omegas jabbing their little Omega fangs into the lens. Dean, for his part, watched them with a frown and just a tiny, tiny hint of apprehension and uncertainty. What if Cas didn't want to fight for this school after all? After all, the Alpha hadn't wanted Dean to come back here in the first place, and these schools could be an easy solution to the problem.
"Go sit behind the door, Omega," he surprised him with his request.
He quickly looked in his direction, trying to figure out what the Alpha was up to. His expression didn't tell everything, but... His profile was sharp, his chin raised proudly as always, and he looked somehow determined. The growing scent, full of dominance and an almost pungent aroma of determination, gave Dean the certainty that yes, his Alpha would fight for him, and the realization made him smile a small smile that he hid by bowing his head like an obedient Omega.
"Yes, Alpha," he agreed, and without protest he got up and left the office.
He closed the door behind him, not leaving it ajar, although he was curious what was going on behind it, and made his way to the few benches along the wall opposite the secretary's desk, reserved for waiting visitors and often for the rabble who had earned a chat with not only the Deputy Director, but even the Director herself.
The Omega secretary looked up from something she was doing on her computer and smiled pleasantly at him.
"Hi. You're Dean, right?" She asked.
"Yeah... how did you know?"
"I looked up your file for the principal," she explained with a smile, then picked up the mug she had placed on her desk. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"
Dean looked at the cup, then at the closed door, then back at the secretary, smiled and nodded.
"Sure... but only if I can help you. You know, because..." He gestured with his hand at his growing belly.
Omega chuckled.
"You're much nicer than your file made you look," she pointed out as she rose from her desk.
A moment later he was leaning against the table, holding a cup of hot chocolate from a bag and chasing a small marshmallow with a spoon.
°°0°°
He took in the atmosphere of the room. A mixture of sauerkraut from the deputy director and gunpowder with a hint of feminine sweetness from the principal. Fortunately, she was at an age where the unpleasant component of the feminine scent had all but disappeared from her scent, making it much easier to talk to her.
"How much?" He asked simply. He'd never seen the point in pretending. They all had their price, it was just a matter of getting it, and it was pointless to pretend that they didn't. And the few who didn't have their price could be intimidated. In the case of the principal, it would have been ridiculously easy. She would have spread her greatest weakness across her desk, as if she didn't realize how easy it would be to hurt her family.
"Excuse me, how many what?" Beta asked from behind her desk.
"How much is it going to cost me for Dean to study here."
The Betas exchanged glances.
"We're a public school, Alpha Novak. We have no tuition, and there's no way to prioritize a student -"
"Glupost," he cut her off impatiently; he'd been dealing with guns delivery problems all night, and his Alpha was just grumbling because it was way past his bedtime, and besides, he had a terrible craving for a cigarette, even though he'd had the last one in the car just before they'd gotten out and gone to the school. He was in no mood to tiptoe between glasses. "Everything is for sale, especially in this country. You name the amount and that's what you get."
"There is no way we are practicing anything like that here!" The principal said indignantly, but since she had not yet fired Castiel, it was not a question of 'if' she would be bribed, but how much it would cost.
"You're obviously unaware of my situation, Principal Phillips, so I'll try to explain it to you... I've come to this meeting in one of my cars, worth about four hundred thousand plus tax, and my Omega wants to study here. And what my Omega wants, he gets," he pointed out. "You have the opportunity to get a lot. I don't think you get that opportunity very often. You can use it for yourself or you can use it for the benefit of the students. It's up to you. But it's a limited time offer. So...?" He tilted his head slightly to the side and raised a questioning eyebrow; he gave the principal a minute to think about it and then stopped trying to be nice.
The principal seemed to want to stick to her principles, for although she obviously couldn't stand the look in his eyes, she remained firm in her stance and kept her lips pursed. The deputy headmistress, on the other hand... seemed much more open to discussion, but it was clear that the headmistress was standing in his way.
"Khoroshiy." He didn't have the patience to stay here and discuss with a person who wasn't in favor of a solution and stood up. "If you are not interested in my financial support, that is your decision. I can easily find another school that will be more supportive."
"Wait," the principal interrupted; Castiel gave her a cold look and raised his eyebrows in question. The principal pursed her lips and inhaled loudly, as if about to say something she found difficult. "In this school we support all students, regardless of their gender and subgender, and we try to provide the best facilities for them, but... we're just a public school and we have to make do with very little. Sometimes we cannot give our children what we would like. For example, one of our music classrooms is already in a very bad condition, and we have been looking for a donor who would be willing to invest in it and give our students the opportunity to develop their musical talents."
"Go on," he urged her, sitting down again.
"We will accept any donation, even a gift in kind. Musical instruments, perhaps, but what's most needed is replacement of the leaky windows and new soundproofing so that the music group won't disturb the classes in the surrounding classrooms when they rehearse. The problem is that such renovations are very expensive..."
"I own a private Alpha club and a strip club. I know how big of an investment it is, and it's not a problem for me," he cut her off, not having the patience for her lengthy defense of asking for a bribe in the form of music classroom equipment. To her credit, she did want to improve conditions for the school's students, not just a new car for herself. "I will provide a complete renovation and equipment with a modern sound system and new musical instruments. But in return, I expect Dean to start school today."
"That can be arranged," the principal agreed.
"Very well. My lawyer will contact your lawyer and arrange the specific manner in which my gift to the school will be made. Now," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper on which Shurley had carefully written a letter of authorization allowing the person holding the document to accompany the Omega placed in Alpha's custody, "I need one of you to sign this so that you can take custody of my Omega. Well...?" He looked questioningly from one to the other.
"I'll sign," the deputy director volunteered after the two exchanged another quick glance and stood up.
Castiel unfolded the paper and laid it on the table. Beta leaned over it, making sure to read everything. People like this were the worst. It was hard to hide anything in the small print. In this case, however, there was nothing to hide, so the wasted time Beta spent reading it was irritating. Finally, he swayed to sign the paper.
"I am a very busy man, so Dean will be driven to and from school by my personal. They will drop him off exactly twenty minutes before school and wait outside the gate on the school grounds every afternoon after school. I expect you to pick Dean up from them in the morning and return him to their care in the afternoon. Dean knows them, but they will also be carrying the same document as you." He nodded slightly to the paper Beta held in his hand.
"We also need to sign some documents. I have them in my office," the deputy informed him.
"Of course," he replied neutrally as he stood up. "Lead the way... I just hope this doesn't take too long," he glanced at his watch. "Like I said, I'm a very busy man."
"It will only take a moment," the assistant director assured him, who already seemed much more cooperative than the director. If it was something more serious than a year and a half of high school studies - even if it was his Omega studies - he would consider replacing the Beta woman with her deputy, but in this case there was no need to waste resources. Enough that he would have to spend at least a hundred grand or so on something he would never use, and Dean probably wouldn't either. He might love rock music, but the fake humming coming from the bathroom when Castiel came home this morning wasn't an example of Omega adding musical talent to his undeniable talents.
The assistant principal bowed his head slightly in the proper gesture and opened the door for Castiel with a polite smile.
°°0°°
"... Are you even listening to me?" Alpha asked sharply, his voice lowered so that only Dean could hear him and not the assistant principal standing nearby.
Dean tore his eyes away from the hustle and bustle of the break and the faces of the passing and standing classmates looking at him, and before he looked at Case, he took a quick glance at the pile of schoolbooks he was clutching like an idiot. He had gotten them directly from the Deputy Principal, who had personally brought them to the Study Department right after he and Castiel had signed Dean's readmission to the school in his office (Alpha had even paid for his lunch, so he got the 'lunch' chip), because Alpha had somehow managed to get the Principal to take him back. He had also somehow arranged for Parker to treat him much better than the two times he'd met him. Suddenly he was all smiles and jokes about whether Dean was looking forward to going back to school and how he was sure his classmates missed him - dude, like he even knew which class Dean was in and who his classmates were - and shit like that. It was really unbelievable. All Cas had to do was come in, cast his deadly charm spell, and suddenly Dean wasn't some bully and truant to be watched out for, but like Beta had said, 'another nice student we'd like to have at Brookside High School'. This world really was a fucked up place, but then again... what was he really complaining about? It was a fucked up place for others, he was lucky after all. He had his Alpha, he lived in a huge apartment for a few million dollars and soon he'd have Sam. He was having a great time.
" Sure, Alpha... and what did you say...?" He smiled innocently. Actually, Case let out a little for a moment. There was so much going on here.
The undertone of bitter almonds grew a little stronger and Castiel's lips tightened, but he remained calm, of course.
"I told you Jacob and Vadim were coming for you..."
"...and I was supposed to go shopping with them!" He finished emphatically, glad that he remembered what Cas had probably been talking about, since they'd discussed the empty fridge on the way in this morning.
"Da." The Alpha glanced over his shoulder. "I have to go now..."
"Yeah, sure," he replied casually, making a small move forward to kiss Cas, as he was wont to do, before realizing what he was doing and where he was, pausing and quickly pulling back. "Um... sorry, I..."
"Soon enough, dorogay. Just a few more months and you'll be seventeen. Then the laws won't stop us," Castiel assured him in a low, purring voice, and though they couldn't kiss, he leaned in close enough that they could at least sniff each other politely.
Dean enjoyed a few long breaths of the scent of cherry pie with almond crumble, and judging by the way Alpha's breathing quickened, so did he. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before Cas pulled away, as always the more aware of where they were and what they were doing.
"I'll see you this afternoon..."
"Yeah, yeah..." he cooed in return, a little fogged up by Alpha's nice scent, but he shook it off with a tap and said: "Wait!" - Castiel paused, tilting his head to one side and raising his eyebrows inquiringly - "What about Sammy?"
Blue eyes narrowed.
"What about your brother?"
"Will he be able to get in here, too?"
"Oh, yes... that. We'll talk about it this afternoon. I really have to go now. Enjoy your day," he wished him as he used to do when they were just texting, placing his warm hand on Dean's cheek for a brief moment before turning to leave.
He watched his retreating figure. It was easy, as the students retreated from him and only reluctantly reentered the corridor they had made for him. Eventually he disappeared around the corner anyway. Dean frowned. Was it his imagination or did the Alpha not want to talk about Sam? Probably not, and it wasn't all that surprising. They had no love for each other and Dean knew it would be difficult to tame two Alphas living under the same roof, but then again, he had experience with that. He grinned amusedly. And if it came down to it, he could poison them both with his sweet Omega pheromones.
"Omega Dean, would you like me to walk you to class?" The deputy principal asked in that ridiculously nice way.
He rolled his eyes. He could really forgive himself. He didn't need any teacher to be nice to him, not even the deputy principal. But when he turned to him, he didn't show his lukewarm contempt. He had promised Cas that he would act like a 'proper Omega' when they were out together, and he somehow intended to keep it up at school. Not to cause trouble on purpose, not to skip classes just because he was bored in them, and in general to sort of take care of his education and his reputation. For example, he didn't think he'd ever be class valedictorian, but maybe he could copy information for papers from more sources than just the wiki.
"That's fine, Mr. Parker, I can do it, but thank you," he replied politely.
Beta shook her head in satisfaction.
"We're glad to have you back, young man," he said almost as if he meant it, even giving Dean a friendly pat on the arm, keeping a on his scent gland.
"I'm glad to be back too," he kept his tone polite and friendly and... oddly enough, he wasn't even lying. There was something about being back in a familiar place. Even his Omega agreed with a lukewarm purr. After all, it might not be a bad thing to be a little more... comfortable. In one place. Have some background and all that shit. And he meant more than just Cas's luxurious lair. Something like... Christmas dinner and a tree or maybe buying a pool table. Did Alpha know how to play pool? It would be nice to play together at home and all...
He shook his head.
These fantasies could wait now, he had an hour and everything, and more importantly, he really wanted to piss. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but since yesterday he felt like his bladder had shrunk to the size of a walnut and his belly was bloated like a balloon. If he hadn't known that he had other symptoms besides overheating, he would have thought that was it, but it was probably the large bottle of Cherry Vanilla Coke he had downed this morning.
He turned to go to the bathroom and that's when he saw Becky walking in his direction, her head bent over her phone. She hadn't seen him yet, so he still had a chance to get lost. He quickly turned and walked away. He didn't want to talk to her because... well, Becky was pretty cool on the one hand, but on the other hand she could be terribly obnoxious, and since he hadn't answered her messages in a long time, he didn't know what to expect from their encounter.
He made his way through the crowd as quickly and stealthily as he could, but alas...
"Dean!" Came a shout of joy from behind him.
He stopped and let out a long, frustrated sigh. Oh yeah, now he couldn't pretend he hadn't seen or heard her. So he put on a smile and turned to the other Beta who was hurrying towards him.
"Becky..."
"Oh, Dean! I'm so glad to see you!" The girl chirped and before he could say anything, she was hugging him.
He exhaled sharply and stiffened a little. The smell of strawberries and cream surrounded him, laced with the sweet happiness and protective scent that Omegas produced when their puppy or someone they loved was in danger. Dean inhaled cautiously, a little surprised at the strength with which Becky's biology reacted to him. But his inner Omega purred contentedly, happy to be around someone he knew, another Omega, and... yeah, all those silly instincts urging him to mate were coming into full effect, so he just sighed and wrapped his arms around the girl's back.
Becky let out a contented grunt and took half a step back so she wouldn't have to tilt her head toward him as much, while still holding his arm.
"I'm so sorry for what happened to you, Deana, and for the way I treated you. If you want to talk, I'm here for you, okay?" She assured him in a very serious voice. "About anything, you understand? About your dad, like... I heard he got arrested... or that horrible shelter. Everyone should know about it! In fact, we should write a story about it, so..."
"Look, I don't want to, Becky, okay?" he cut her off. "I don't want to talk about any of this."
"Sure. I totally understand. It's still fresh. But if you need anything..."
"Then you'll be the first person I go to," he assured her with a smile, even though it wasn't true. Even if he ever wanted to talk to her, which somehow he didn't, he couldn't talk to her or anyone 'normal' about what was going on in his life. "Now I have to..." he gestured with his thumb behind him. "Bounce some sand."
"Right. I'll wait for you here and we'll walk to class together."
"Yeah, sure, why not," he agreed, because what else was he going to say, and headed for the bathroom. On the way, he glanced over his shoulder again, only to find Becky standing there, looking at her cell phone and waiting for him, just like she'd promised. He shook his head. This was so ridiculously normal that it was hard to believe that his life could finally be normal again, but... yeah, maybe it was. Maybe everything would be boring and ordinary now.
Chapter 71
Notes:
Thank you all for your comments on the last chapter. I read them all, but I was sick and too tired to respond. Enjoy reading this short chapter...which I also wrote when I was sick. 😃
Chapter Text
He looked at the microwave. It was seven in the morning, and Castiel was still not home. And on weekends, it was the same; he didn't get home until nine in the morning, went straight to bed, and sometimes got up later, at three, only to be gone by six, with no more explanation than that he had to work. All in all, if they saw each other for five hours or so, maybe that was an exaggerated estimate. Dean felt... lonely and cramped, even though the apartment was huge. A lot of it had to do with the fact that he hadn't left the apartment since he got home from school on Friday, and he also had no one to really talk to, because texting with Sam and a few video chats just couldn't replace real human contact. Especially with Sammy and Cas. The apartment was sterile and odorless. Sure, there was Cas's scent, stronger in some places than others, but even after a few days he'd gotten so used to it that it didn't seem as fresh and alive as it had when he'd first gotten here. And he missed Sammy's scent of sandalwood and olives more than he ever thought he would.
Everything was twisting inside him, so strangely heavy and constricting, and on top of that he felt bloated like a balloon and had lost his appetite again. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't normal. He'd never felt this way before.
The door clicked and beeped as Cas put the card in the slot to lock it.
Dean's Omega was instantly on its feet, and he with it.
"Hey, Cas," he greeted Alpha with ridiculous enthusiasm, who had just run up the short flight of stairs to the main room.
Alpha paused, raised his head from the phone he'd been frowning at as he walked, and looked up at Dean from under a furrowed brow in confusion. It was as if he hadn't expected to find him here at all, or had even forgotten that someone lived with him.
"Dean... what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"
"It's only seven. Do you want something to eat? He asked, nodding toward the table. "I made waffles, but there's plenty left over."
"I already ate," the Alpha brushed him off and seemed to walk past to the bedroom without anything else, but stopped when he was at Dean's level and lifted his head in a typical gesture of venting.
Damn! Yeah, he could smell a hint of himself and the scent of abandoned and rejected Omega, he just hoped he could pass Cas far enough away from him and not pick up any of the stupid pheromones his body was producing without being able to prevent it. He didn't want to bother him with his stupid Omega attachment. Damn it! He didn't even want to bother himself with it. It was just ridiculous. As if he couldn't entertain himself or something... Unfortunately, the sad fact was that he probably couldn't. In the last few weeks, he'd been alone more often than ever before. As far back as he could remember, he always had his brother and usually their Alpha-dad around, and if he didn't have one, there were his classmates, other employees at the diner or store where he worked, people at the bar where he went to mug the regulars at the pool table, or some girl. He still had someone to talk to, even if it was a sales clerk at the store or a bored attendant at some run-down old gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere. And if he did spend time alone with his phone or TV and food, he did so by his own choice and could always go and annoy the grumpy little idiot with his presence.
The loneliness of the last few weeks had been different. It was not his choice. Either he was locked in a small closet or he simply couldn't spend time with Cas because the Alpha was asleep and waking a tired Alpha was a really bad idea. He hadn't been kidding when he'd joked the other day that Cas might bite the cleaners if they woke him.
Maybe there was some truth to that talk about all Omegas needing social contact, he just hoped he could avoid that stupid need.
"You stink," Castiel commented, taking a few steps in his direction. "What's wrong, Din?" He asked in that tone that made even the simplest question seem terribly important, tilting his head to the side and fixing his lagoon blue eyes on him with the usual intensity that made Dean feel like he could see into his soul.
"It's nothing. I'm fine," he brushed him off, seemingly carefree, but the way the Alpha narrowed his eyes left him no choice but to continue with a truthful explanation. "Look, it's really nothing, okay? We just haven't seen much of each other this weekend and haven't had time to talk..."
"I told you; I'm busy," Castiel replied, slightly impatient, but his expression and tone quickly became more serious as he crossed the distance that separated them and lifted Dean's face to his chin. "Moy sladkiy... I know I've been neglecting you, but I have business to attend to now. We've got some important packages stuck at sea, and if we don't get them ashore soon, it's going to piss off some of our loyal customers. It's an important enough problem for me to deal with on my own, but it won't be long now, da?" He said softly, leaning over to give Dean a quick peck on the lips. "When this is taken care of, we'll do something together. Maybe we'll go out for dinner."
"Somewhere other than the Doll?"
Cas's eyes sparkled with amusement as he replied:
"Sure, somewhere else. Wherever you want."
"I'd like a real steak," he admitted with a grunt at the thought of a juicy piece of meat roasting right over the fire and a good cold beer to go with it... who could resist?
"That can be arranged," the Alpha nodded, in fact with almost the same excited humming, his eyes twinkling appreciatively, whereupon his somewhat dreamy gaze cleared and he returned his blue eyes to Den with full attention. "I'll give you something..." he grumbled, dropping his chin and reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "You didn't remember this..." He held up one of his credit cards. "Take it and do some shopping."
Yeah, Cas had promised him a good clothes shopping spree and Dean had agreed, because he definitely wouldn't mind having a few nice things, but he kind of imagined they'd go together. Just to spend some time together.
"Hey, that's okay, right? I don't need much and..."
"Nonsense," Alpha cut him off, running his fingers along the edge of the sweatshirt he was wearing. "You're beautiful, and you deserve nice things. Here." He slid the card into his palm, stroked his cheek, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Get something that makes you happy," he said in a tone that made it clear he was ending this discussion, even if he didn't go into the bedroom without anything else.
Dean shot him a scowl, then looked down at his credit card with a sigh. This wasn't exactly what he'd imagined when he'd moved in with Castiel, but he figured there was nothing to be done. If Cas was having trouble with 'work', he simply didn't have time to deal with a stupid, clingy Omega. And Dean certainly wasn't going to stand in his way. He could take care of himself.
He slipped the credit card into his pocket, determined to do some shopping this afternoon.
°°0°°
Showering in a collar that wouldn't come off really sucked. Granted, it wasn't tight around his neck so he couldn't wipe underneath, but the collar, including the stupid absorbent layer, had soaked up water and took forever to dry. The upside was that he got to take a bath. There, soaking the collar could be avoided. And he only had to wash his hair about once a month.
So now he lay in the huge tub full of warm water and honey-scented foam that the Alpha seemed to use, contentedly leaning back against the comfortably padded headrest, watching the episodes of Doctor Sexy he'd missed and sipping a beer. He had time, his afternoon classes had been canceled, and skipping lunch was fine. He grabbed something at home, and since he had the afternoon off, he thought he'd go shopping. Besides, what else was there to do? He wanted to see Sam, but the family he was staying with wasn't too keen on seeing them in person, and although it annoyed Dean, he didn't want to cause trouble. Interfering with their lives might make it difficult for Sammy to come here. The courts didn't like that kind of behavior. Or so he thought. And since he interacted with his little brother every day, he knew he was doing well, even if he looked a little grumpy these days. But Sam had never been the cheerful type, he'd been quiet and brooding since he was a toddler, and age certainly hadn't made him smile.
The credits appeared on the screen. Dean smiled, finished the last of his beer, and set his phone down on the wide edge of the tub so he could climb out comfortably. He grabbed one of the big, fluffy towels - oh, God bless those lovely, soft towels - and while he dried himself off, he grabbed his phone to check for a text from Cas and went next door to the bedroom.
He frowned at the chat, where he hadn't had a message since last night, and glanced over at the conversation with Sam next door, where he was reminded of the grade he'd gotten in history class today. Good as always. He threw his towel over his shoulder and smiled.
"Not bad."
He turned sharply at the unfamiliar voice, which wasn't all that unfamiliar. Leaning against the door frame to the bedroom was the little Frenchman he'd met in Blue Sky a while back. Bloody Balthazar. He was in Cas's lair, and he was making it clear with everything, his casual attitude and his arrogant expression, that he belonged here, or even owned it.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He snarled through bared fangs.
"Just a friendly visitor, petit singe," he replied as if nothing had happened, pulling himself off the futon with that ridiculous grace of his. Did this guy have a damn bone? And why was he cupping like he was wearing high heels? And what about the clothes? He looked like a stripper, dressed in leather pants that hid nothing, and a shiny gray shirt thrown over a tank top with a neckline so low you could almost see his belly button, and a tangle of silver chains hanging all over his exposed, smooth chest.
"Are you sure you're an Omega?" The Beta asked the cheeky question.
"Of course I am, you idiot!" He growled back. Yeah, being an Omega wasn't always fun, especially around the Knots, and he knew he didn't exactly look like an Omega, but he was an Omega and he was actually okay with it. He wasn't ashamed of it or anything. And in fact, he always corrected everyone when they mistook him for a Beta or an Alpha... unless there was something to be gained from the confusion.
"And you're sure? Because this," he looked down with a very significant look, "is what I usually see on Betas."
"What do you mean..." he began, looking down, only to realize at that moment that he was completely naked.
Damn job!
He yanked the towel off his shoulder and quickly wrapped it around his waist, surprised that his phone didn't fall out of his hand. He had nothing to be ashamed of, but he'd rather go to hell than have Castiel's ex ogle and judge or even measure him. He didn't like it at all. He made his displeasure known, and the smell that had begun to permeate the air only added to it. Of course, Balthazar didn't react to it. He didn't smell it. And he didn't even smell it himself, because this time he wasn't wearing liters of scent enhancer, but some powerful blockers that masked his faint Beta scent.
"You don't have to disguise yourself for me. I don't mind. I've seen hundreds of them. Although," he shifted from foot to foot, "I have to admit, you're good to look at. You certainly have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Yeah, I know I don't, and Cas knows it too. That's probably why I'm sleeping in his bed and you're not, which leads me to ask," he puffed out his chest and stepped forward, invading Beta's personal space, showing his fangs in warning, "what do you want here and how did you get here in the first place?"
"I have a key," he replied with complete ease and... logic.
This apartment was half a fortress itself. Thick walls, bulletproof glass, locks, a card reader, a code, a door inlaid with steel... there was no way to get through it all except with a card and a pin that had been changed this morning. And so the only way Balthazar had gotten in was by having a card from Castiel and getting a new code from him as well. The Alpha allowed him to come here. He wanted him in this lair as much as he wanted Dean, and that was... His Omega snarled angrily, but felt threatened at the same time. Castiel had no right to let someone Dean didn't want here into the cave that now belonged to both of them. He just shouldn't have... unless, of course, he had. He was the Alpha and this was his lair, he decided who lived in it and who didn't and who could enter it.
When he realized this hard truth, his Omega flattened and retreated into a corner, and he stopped gritting his teeth and straightened up.
He didn't want the Beta here, he couldn't just kick him out when Castiel had given him permission to come here, and who knew, maybe there was a reason he had been sent here. Although Dean had no idea what it was, because why would he want anything to do with Alpha's ex, but...
"Something wrong?" he asked, taking care not to let the worry slip into his voice. This particular guy would be the worst possible messenger, but it was still possible that Cas had sent him here with a message or a mission.
"Non," Beta replied in the negative, one of the dozen French words Dean knew. "I was sent to check on you."
Check? Dean, damn it, didn't need to be checked, and especially not this... What the hell was the Alpha thinking sending him here?
He gritted his teeth.
"Fine. So, you checked me out and you can leave." He sent him away with a nod towards the door.
"You don't have to bite now," Beta muttered mockingly, but at least he turned and did what Dean asked.
He stared at the open door through which Balthazar had left. Damn job... He really hated it when someone came into his nest uninvited, no matter if they were actually dangerous, like Alastair, or not, like Alpha's brother and this little Napoleon. Somehow he wanted, instinctively needed, to control the den and the nest so he could throw some puppies and stupid shit like that. God, it was so ridiculous. Yeah, okay, when they stayed somewhere longer than usual, he'd occasionally have these thoughts that it would be nice to settle down more, but it was never to the point where his stomach clenched in deep, instinctive disgust and fear when someone disturbed his makeshift 'nest'. Back then, he was more concerned with packing up and getting out as quickly as possible.
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and down his neck, feeling for the registration chip on his collar. He hooked his finger just under the skin and gave it a little tug. The collar didn't choke him, and it wasn't too wet, it just irritated him on principle. He let go with another sigh. He couldn't get rid of it, so he'd better stop pulling on it before it broke unnecessarily.
He threw the phone on the bed and got dressed.
It didn't take him more than five minutes, and when he came out of the bedroom afterwards, he wasn't really surprised to find Beta sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. He'd made himself comfortable in a completely arrogant way. He'd even had the audacity to pour one of Castiel's alcohols on his thumb. Cheeky bastard.
He snarled and snatched the glass from the Frenchman's hand.
"Who let you touch Alpha's drink?"
"Oh, excuse me... it's not just any drink, it's cognac. My cognac to be specific. I brought it here to have something of quality. I got tired of drinking beer and windshield washer antifreeze, which Castiel refers to as spirits," Beta objected in offence, but continued to sit there, giving Dean that look of contempt, as if he considered him nothing more than a petulant child he could safely ignore.
Another snarl played on his tongue, but he swallowed it at the sight of Napoleon's smug smile. If he snarled and raged here, he would show that he was exactly what Beta thought he was. A child. He hadn't been a kid long before he'd met Case, and now that he was his Mate... what did the Alpha say? He should have some class. Be polite and a good host and all that shit that should have come naturally to all Omegas.
"Fine," he said calmly, handing Beta his drink back. "Then finish it, take your bottle and go."
"Oh, I wish I could..." Beta sighed before sipping and throwing his arms around the sofa in a sloppy gesture of dominance that would have been more appropriate for an Alpha. What was he trying to do here? Did he think that posing as an Alpha would make Dean sit on his ass in front of him? He was far from it.
"Unfortunately, I've been assigned to take care of you for the day," he said, whereupon he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed to Dean with great grace as soon as he showed interest in it.
A quick glance confirmed that it was exactly what he thought it was. The paper that Castiel had used to authorize the owner to oversee the Omega in his care, one Dean Henry Winchester. All duly stamped with today's date, Balthazar's full, real name, and Castiel's signature, so there could be no doubt that everything was as it should be. This Alpha Novak wants this Beta to take care of Dean.
He gritted his teeth and clenched the paper, wanting to crumple it up, but resisted the urge to even throw the custodial credentials at Balthazar and instead just handed it to him with a straight face.
"And what exactly are you going to do, Napoleon, if you... take care of me?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from every word because he couldn't forgive himself.
"Basic services... nails, hair, eyebrows, massage..." he shoved the paper back into his pocket, "and then shopping. You definitely need to do something with that Wallmart you're wearing." He indicated Dean's entire body with a wave of his hand, emptying his glass in one gulp.
He looked down at himself. What was Beta's problem? He wore the jeans Alpha had altered for him, a red t-shirt and he'd stolen one of Cas's black shirts. With his permission, of course. Cas purred enthusiastically every time he saw him in his clothes and repeated several times that everything that was his now belonged to Dean as well. So, in his opinion, he looked pretty damn good.
"What's wrong with my clothes?" He asked, frowning at Beta.
"Do you really have to ask?" He gestured to his empty glass. "You're like the lumberjack who wore his best shirt to the village fair. And look at your hands."
He grabbed his hand and lifted it up to look at his own fingernails. He frowned. He didn't see a problem. He didn't have the nice, manicured hands of the Alpha, but his nails were clean and regularly trimmed, and any calluses he had were useful. In fact, he hardly had any calluses at all. It had been a couple of Fridays since he'd been able to get a good shot, which was enough for his palms to soften and the hard skin on the belly of his index finger to soak in warm water and begin to peel. Damn, he should get back to training and when he did, it would hurt like hell. Probably not like when his dad taught him to shoot, or later when he had to shoot until his palm was bloody and the muscles in his hands were so sore he couldn't even hold a spoon, but it wouldn't be pleasant.
"I think that looks good," he replied, pulling his hand out of Balthazar's weak grip.
"Are you going to show yourself in public like this, next to Castiel?"
"He likes me like this. He likes my rugged beauty. Maybe it's because he's tired of fancy dummies like you," he shot at him mercilessly.
"Oh mon Dieu!" Beta snorted, laughing. "You really think you're a threat to me, little monkey? You're just a distraction. A novelty that will tire him quickly," he said so damn arrogantly, rising from the sofa with that ridiculous grace he'd had back in Blue Sky. "Eventually he'll come back to me, as he always does, because he'll get tired of dealing with the problems caused by a little boy who can't even eat with silverware... like all Americans." He set his glass down on the coffee table, surprisingly along with the paper Castiel had signed for him. "And between you and me, girls... you should make the most of this short time. At least the new clothes," he added with a grin before simply turning his back on Dean.
"I'm not after Castiel's money! I'm not with him because of how rich he is and I don't need to wear five hundred bucks worth of pants!" He yelled angrily into the back of his head.
Beta spun on his heel like a literal damn ballerina and showed Dean a face with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and a kind of irony as he looked down at his own pants.
"It only look like five hundred? Ah... looks like I'll have to change the brand," he grinned amusedly and turned away again.
This time, Dean let him go, mostly because he wanted him to leave, not to see his smug grin. But there was something else. The moment the door slammed behind Beta, beeping as the locks clicked into place, he allowed himself to think the bastard was right. He looked like a farm boy next to his Alpha. He even looked a little cheaper than Castiel's men because, dude, Yuri's sweatsuits weren't Chinese fakes like he first thought. They weren't even the "cheap" hundred-dollar ones you could usually get at the store. They were damn limited edition Adidas, because apparently even Mr. Ratface had style and enough money to pay for it.
So yeah, Beta was right. He needed a haircut and a manicure and new clothes and who knows what else. Be more classy so Castiel wouldn't have to be ashamed of him. Look... look better than that damn little Napoleon, walking around all smug and handsome and... Fuck that. He'd wanted some rock t-shirts and proper jeans from the workwear store, but now he saw what a stupid idea that was. He'd never be good enough. He had to buy some expensive shit, he knew that, but he definitely didn't need anybody's supervision or help to buy it. He wasn't a complete idiot. All he had to do was go to a store where even the tissues had three zeros on the price tag and he'd be fine. Although he didn't know where to find such stores... maybe on Fifth Avenue. Yeah, that was a familiar place to start, and then maybe he could try somewhere else. Maybe Castiel's mens would know where... no! Hell, no! No line of sight. He knew how to take care of himself and didn't need someone on his ass all the time, watching his back and, more importantly, checking what he was doing. And if Alpha didn't like it, he could just go fuck himself after what he'd just sent his ex on Dean.
He decided to call a cab. All taxi drivers drove professionally, they'd have a better idea of what was being sold where than the Uber drivers who pretty much did this job on the side. Yeah, a cab was a good idea, and he'd have one pulled up to the garage so he could easily avoid Castiel's men.
With determination, he pulled out his cell phone and searched for taxi services.
Chapter 72
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Slipping through the garage was easy. Apparently, no one had even expected him to try to leave Castiel's apartment alone and through the garage, because Alpha's men were sitting in a car across from the front entrance, paying little attention to their surroundings. Dean may have crouched down in the back of the cab so as not to be seen, but Ginger and Mr. Eyebrow didn't even lift their heads from their phones as they drove past.
The cabbie was a chatty fifty-year-old Beta who proudly showed off his two sons who were at university and talked about his older brother who had decided to move back to Delhi with his wife to be with his parents, even slipping his phone with pictures of them through the glass. And when he stopped at the beginning of Fifth Avenue and took Dean's credit card to pay, he asked him if he was a tourist looking to see the famous streets of New York. He replied that he had just decided to go shopping. Who knows why Beta thought this was so funny that he laughed out loud, but in the end he wished him a good shopping trip and returned the crumpled business card along with the credit card, telling him that if Dean made a big purchase, he should call him and tell him that he would get him home at a discount...and probably at the margin for the company he drove for.
He thanked him and pocketed the business card along with his credit card. Having a ride back wasn't necessarily a bad thing, this Beta was nice and didn't even gouge him on the price, even though he thought he was a tourist.
A cold, damp wind got under his jacket as he stepped out of the car. Squinting up at the gray sky, which didn't promise a ray of sunshine for the day, he zipped up his jacket and walked out.
The first thing he noticed was that it was a lot less crowded than he had expected. Wasn't Fifth Avenue supposed to be like the biggest shopping street in the world or something? He'd expected it to be incredibly crowded and stuff. Why that wasn't the case dawned on him at the first storefront he approached. There were high-heeled boots that looked like they'd been sewn out of two stained-glass windows, and a price tag underneath that listed the store's special price of three thousand, four hundred and ninety-five dollars. Why ninety-five? Why not five hundred? As if five dollars would matter to someone buying a pair of shoes for three and a half thousand bucks. What good is the five bucks he's saving? Unless he runs out of toilet paper at home.
Anyway, the price explained why there were fewer people than he'd expected, and it probably wasn't the weather. Most of them weren't shopping, they were just cutting their trip short, and maybe Dean should cut his trip short, too. To the next cheap mall, because obviously he had nothing to do here. No! He had a job to do. An important job. To make sure that Castiel didn't have to be ashamed of him and that he didn't think for a moment of someone as pompous as little Napoleon.
Determined, he made his way down the street, stopping at the window of every store that sold clothes and shoes. After the first few, he discovered that it wasn't the prices that were so terrible. There were quite a few price tags that only had two zeros on them, and that seemed okay. He didn't feel too bad about wasting Cas's fortune. The problem was that the price wasn't really the biggest obstacle in the selection process. He couldn't see himself in any of the things he'd seen in the window or on the stands and mannequins in the store. Not that everything was terrible or anything. There were a few stores with designer suits that would have been perfect for Case, and women's boutiques with fashion that looked like The Devil Wears Prada (including the Prada store itself, of course) with a dash of modernism.
And then shops for Omegas with sheer monstrosities. Especially brands like Sublime Rainbow or Color Dance. The clown circus wouldn't have to worry about shopping there, that's how many mismatched colors the designers of these brands were able to cram into a pair of pants or a dress. But what do you expect from someone who puts "rainbow" in their name and makes adult merchandise?
As he began to lose hope of finding something acceptable, he came across Chic Ombre. It was a shop for Omegas, that much was clear from the colorful interior, but... hey, the clothes in the window looked pretty normal. Jeans, with sewn-on decorations on the sides and beads at the end of the legs, but they were jeans, and next to them was a checkered shirt in a light green, again tied in a big knot at the dummy's waist, but maybe they'd have some more normal colors inside. He could keep his style, just give him a price tag of around eight thousand or so.
So yeah, he decided to take a look inside. If for no other reason, at least to warm up.
He went inside.
The shop was pleasantly warm, so he took off his jacket just inside the door and hung it on his forefinger, slung over his shoulder. He sucked in air. It was clean, only lightly perfumed with mostly sweet Omega scents, and the atmosphere was permeated with softly playing modern pop music. There weren't many customers in the store, but just outside the door was a security guard in a pretty good suit - they didn't usually have those - who gave Dean a more or less impassive stare. He smiled back and walked into the jungle of colors. Clothes were hung on hangers much more sparsely than in normal shops, let alone those with big discounts, second hand or charity shops. There, clothes were piled one on top of the other, and you had to be very careful not to miss anything and to choose the best. Here, he didn't even have to pull out individual hangers if he didn't want to. Not that he'd want to look at any of the things here in detail. It was ridiculous stuff.
They took ordinary functional clothing, put colorful patches and beads and sequins on it, and said it was the best thing for Omegas. Actually, it wasn't much different from similar kitsch in normal stores, they just slapped price tags on it starting at nine hundred. He didn't see it as realistic to pick up anything here unless he wanted to look like a member of the Village People.
He was just looking at a pair of embellished jeans - they had holes lined with colorful patches and beads strung on threads hanging from the frayed edges of the holes - when a whiff of pineapple and freshly sliced chili pepper and, of course, musky Alpha hit his nose. It was an aggressive scent he'd imagined coming from a hulking Alpha male, so it was a bit of a surprise to hear a young female voice behind him:
"These would suit you, Omega."
He turned to meet the deep, brown, almond-shaped eyes in the pretty face of an Alpha girl his age. She had slightly wavy dark brown hair that fell about shoulder length, nicely cut lips, and tanned skin despite the fact that it was fall and they were in New York. She even looked a little like Lisa, except she was an Alpha, which meant she was the same height as Dean, and though she was slender, she had more robust shoulders than Beta girls her age. The fact that she was an Alpha was obvious to her, including her posture with her head held high and a look of disdain that was filled with a certain nausea when Dean didn't lower his gaze or bow his head to her.
"Yeah, thanks, Alpha, but that's not my style," he said politely, mostly because he didn't want to make a scene. That would be foolish and probably dangerous. He was aware that he was walking around outside without the escort he was supposed to have by law, and if he got caught it would be a problem, but he was counting on being safe because people didn't know much about the Omeza in Distress Act. And if he didn't make a fuss, they wouldn't even notice him. Except for the Knots, they always noticed him. Not that this girl was a Knot in particular. Actually, she was quite pretty, and under different circumstances... if it wasn't Case... he wouldn't have flirted with her just for fun, because he wouldn't have wanted to take it further. The 'no Alphas' rule used to be unbreakable. But now... his Omega grunted in displeasure at the mere thought of anything more than polite conversation and tensed, and Dean with her, when the Alpha girl took a step into his personal space.
"So you're going to change your style," the Alpha said with the confidence of all Alphas, reaching around Dean - he could clearly smell the rising scent of pineapple, musky arousal creeping in, the reaction of all Alphas to Omega's closeness - and pulling up the strap of those ugly pants. "I'll buy them for you. We'll try them on in the cabin. Come on," she urged him, and with the matter-of-factness of every Alpha used to being obeyed by everyone around them, she turned without anything else and simply expected him to follow her.
He grinned.
"Wow! You're going pretty hard, Alpha!" He chuckled, but it wasn't really a veiled hint of insult or anything. She was a really pretty girl, and it was never insulting to like someone like that. "I don't even know your name and you want me to get naked in front of you? How about at least buying me a beer?"
The Alpha turned sharply toward him until her hair fluttered, the short skirt of her school uniform swished a little, and for a brief moment it looked like she was going to growl. Her scent was definitely filled with a peppery hint of chili, but in the end she just took a step back towards Dean and lifted her chin in a pose.
He really hadn't meant to upset her on purpose, and oddly enough, he felt a slight urge to submit so that she would be a strong Alpha one day, but he wasn't about to give in to that small, insignificant and stupid urge. So he lifted his head as she did and looked her straight in the eye, challenging her. They measured each other for a long time, both puffing out their chests, until Alpha's red lips curled into a smile and she narrowed her eyes in interest.
"You defy me. Most people don't. I like it. It's funny," she declared, using short simple sentences as if she thought perhaps that as an Omega she must be stupid or uneducated; yeah, yeah, the general hint of knottiness so typical of many Alphas. "I am Amara. And you, Omega? Who are you?"
"Dean," he answered simply, giving her no further information about himself. "I'm Dean, Omega, who thanks you for the offer and your interest, but..." he trailed off, hooking his fingers into the collar to show it. "I already have an Alpha, but it was nice talking to you."
"You're rejecting me?" she asked, a question so stupid he couldn't even manage a grin. She seemed genuinely surprised and maybe even offended by his rejection.
"Yeah, I don't think so either, and other times and other places... maybe, but not now."
"Hmm..." the Alpha hummed, sliding her eyes from his face to his collar and back again. "Okay," he said finally, hanging up his pants. Then she approached Dean's room again, her head tilted so she could take in his scent, and as she walked around him, she sniffed brightly at his ear and brushed her shoulder against his.
He followed her with just a glance, but the moment she touched him, a warning growl escaped him, pierced only by the corner of his lips. She could be as pretty as she wanted, but Dean belonged to Castiel, and neither his Omega nor he would allow another Alpha near him.
The Alpha gave him the same growl in return, and despite his protests, he felt her hand on his back. He turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of her face leaning against his neck out of the corner of his eye.
If she touched him there, he'd just turn around and bite her face! He was tired of Alphas thinking they could touch him there without his permission, or any permission at all. Only Cas was allowed to do that... and Dad and uncle Bobby, no one else.
"You missed your chance," the Alpha told him, as if being with her would be a win-win for everyone, and then thankfully just backed off.
As soon as he was sure that she wasn't standing right behind him anymore and that he wouldn't make eye contact with her when he turned around, he turned back. He watched as she walked over to her three friends, who looked more like Betas since they were all smaller than her, but they didn't look or act like Omegas to this Amara. They were probably classmates. They were all wearing uniforms from what must have been a private school. Some kind of pleated skirts, dark red, and under their expensive coats they had jackets and vests and scarves or something.
The Alpha stepped into their midst, her pack of girls crowding around her, and she started to say something, all the girls' eyes shooting in Dean's direction in turn. She was definitely going to tell them indignantly about how the stupid, seemingly poor Omega had rejected her, and how rude it was, and how stupid Dean was for doing such a thing, and how he wasn't really worth their attention. Maybe because he was too big, too muscular, and too sassy for Omega.
He rolled his eyes slightly and ignored her. He was going to go through the last few stands, just so people wouldn't say he wasn't trying, and then get the hell out of here. He was so disgusted with what they sold here that he even flirted with the idea of abandoning his plan and going out to buy something decent to wear. Something he really needed.
Bored, he pulled one of the checkered shirts off the rack, which at first glance looked like one of his own. It was even blue with blue and beige, so okay colors, except it was a crop top. A quick glance up revealed that he was indeed in the men's section of the store.
Oh yeah... this was really too much. Last but not least, it was damn cold outside; who would buy something with their belly button sticking out at this time of year?
Only a fool. Camping and wilderness training had taught him the importance of warm clothing.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
With a grunt, he stepped back, pulled away from the warm weight of someone's palm, and bared his teeth at whoever had dared to startle him like that. He'd thought it would be the Alpha, coming to try again or to take out her anger at him for humiliating her, but it was actually a Beta in his mid-forties, wearing a jacket and tie with a pin with the store's logo on it. He was a local salesman.
Dean relaxed immediately.
"Good afternoon, sir," Beta said politely.
He took in the man's scent, but other than a faint Beta scent reminiscent of tanned leather, he didn't smell much.
"Yes... hello," he paused and cleared his throat a little, his eyes falling on the shirt he still held in his hand. "I mean; good afternoon."
"Would you like help choosing?" Beta asked, also looking at the shirt Dean was holding so awkwardly.
"Yes, help would be appreciated. I'd like something like this," he held up the shirt, "but more like... normal, you know? Like a real shirt that you can button up and keep warm. And something that's my size, too, because this..." he held the shirt up, "I don't think I could stuff it on," he said. The shirt was men's, but it was for Omega men, and they tended to be much smaller than Dean, often half as wide. Sort of like Kevin.
"I'm sure we have exactly what you want in the back of the store," the salesman assured him, smiling as he led him deeper into the store.
Truth was, he was a little doubtful that they had anything he really liked, but who knew... Maybe there was something in the back that at least wasn't as ridiculous as the stuff around here. He was willing to give it a try, so he shoved his shirt back on the rack and let the salesman lead the way.
It dawned on him that something wasn't right the moment they rounded one of the racks and headed for the back wall of the store. Of course, there were no clothes even close to what he wanted.
Mostly, he immediately noticed a gap in the colorful wallpaper and a tattooed door handle that probably led somewhere to the back alley among the garbage. His training immediately warned him of... well, not explicit danger, but some kind of trap, so he turned over his shoulder and looked towards the exit. The burly guard who had given him an impassive look earlier moved in front of the door, blocking his escape route. He had three options; he could have tried to run past him, he could have tried to knock him down with a well-placed right hook, or he could have jumped through the window. All options were equally good, and all would have gotten him into big trouble.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Okay... I'm not going any further. I know you won't lead me to any goods, but you want to throw me out the back door."
Beta walked back to him, getting so close it was uncomfortable, and lowered his voice as he said unkindly:
"We don't throw thieves out. We call the police on thieves."
He winked. What the hell...?!
"I'm not a thief!" he protested, offended. Well, technically he was a thief, but he hadn't just stolen anything here, and he wasn't going to steal anything. If he had wanted and needed to steal, he definitely wouldn't have come here.
"If you're not a thief, you won't mind coming in the back with me so we don't make a fuss, and show me your pockets."
Damn it, he was bothered by something like that. Regardless of the fact that he'd stolen before, this time he was falsely accused and somehow showing his pockets clearly interfered with his civil rights and shit like that. And it definitely affected him personally and made him angry.
But the fact was that he had nothing to hide and making a scandal out here in the open meant that they might call the cops anyway. And if the cops found out that Omega was in Alpha's custody, it would be a big deal.
"Fine. All right. I have nothing to hide," he said confidently.
The clerk sized him up before grabbing him under the elbow - Dean took it with gritted teeth - and steered him toward a hidden door. He used a chip card to open it and placed it on the taped reader under the handle.
The room he pushed him into wasn't like an office or anything, it was a standard detention and interrogation cell. There was no other way to call it. There were no windows or doors other than the one they'd come in through, the only furniture was a desk and two chairs, a camera in the corner of the room, uncomfortably bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling, and a scanner on the table that was used to look for chips on clothing.
Dean chuckled. This was ridiculous. He could understand a room like this in a casino where a person could cheat for tens to hundreds of thousands, but this was just a normal store selling overpriced, tacky clothes. They obviously took themselves absurdly seriously.
The Beta salesman closed the door behind them, and it was obvious from the click that it was locked. And the only way to open it was with the card Beta had with him, which was no problem. The salesman was as tall as Dean, but much less muscular, so he would be easy to overpower, unlike the hulking guard. But he wouldn't do that unless he absolutely had to.
"Okay," he said, throwing his jacket on the table and reaching into his pants pockets. ""Look, I don't have anything."
He began to pull out the things he had in his pockets. His phone, some dirty napkins with the Farmer Chicken logo on them, an Alpha condom - he'd decided to carry one just in case - the apartment chip card and the credit card Cas had given him that morning, the cabbie's business card, a pack of gum, and that was it. Luckily, he hadn't brought a knife. It wouldn't have looked good.
"See? I didn't steal anything.
So can I go?"
"More jacket pockets."
Dean rolled his eyes, but did what Beta asked. First he reached into a pocket and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Not that he smoked himself, but he knew what a lack of cigarettes did to addicts, so it was safer for those around him to have a golden supply in his pocket in case Cas ran out of cigarettes. Then he reached into his other pocket and, to his confusion, felt some cloth. He didn't remember bringing a scarf, even though it was too small and delicate to be a scarf.
He pulled it out and looked at it in confusion. It was a shawl of fine green cloth decorated with circles of various shades of blue. He had never owned anything like it and doubted it belonged to Castiel. Not only had he never seen any shawls of his, but if he had wanted to buy one, he would have preferred black, cream, or dark blue. He knew him well enough for that.
"What the hell...?" He asked, mostly to himself and very confused. The scarf looked like it was for sale in this store, but Dean definitely didn't take it. Why should he take it? It wouldn't do him any good. That's how it got into his... Damn Alpha bitch! She must have put it in his pocket when she had pushed him from behind earlier. She wanted to get him into trouble, either in retaliation for his rejection or... Damn it! She had planned it from the beginning. She'd seen a lone Omega that clearly didn't belong in such an expensive store, so she'd decided to go up to him and slip him something, just for fun, to mark him as a thief. Then she probably went to the salesman herself and told him that she had seen Dean put something in his pocket. Bitch!
"I didn't steal it! The brown-haired Alpha girl who was talking to me put it in my pocket," he protested immediately, telling the truth even though he knew as soon as the words left his mouth that no one would believe him. The girl acted like she was at home in the store, wore a uniform from an expensive private school, and judging by her tan, took vacations to the beach whenever she felt like it.And she was an Alpha. She was the rich brat everyone trusted, while Dean was... what he was.
"Of course you didn't steal it. It fell into your pocket by itself, or someone put it there," the salesman grinned. "I've heard that excuse a hundred times from people like you. Too bad things aren't like they used to be and we can't just throw scum like you out of the store."
Dean snarled through bared teeth. He didn't like what the guy was saying about him.
"I didn't steal it! Why would I even do that? It's just an ugly scarf." He threw the scarf on the table. "Look at the security cameras. I'm sure they'll clearly see that I didn't take it and who put it in my pocket."
"We'll take it up with the police. I've already called them. They'll be here any minute. Now sit down," Beta ordered, clearly expecting him to obey his order.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If he got involved with the police, everything could go to hell. He could end up in juvenile hall and then in prison because of some stupid law that violated his civil rights, took them away completely, and no one seemed to give a shit. He had to get out of this situation somehow.
"Okay, okay," he reached for his credit card. "How about I buy this scarf? Then maybe it'll be okay and I can go."
"I doubt you have the money to pay for that."
"Believe me, I will use this credit card," he assured him, offering it with a polite smile, and when the clerk took it from him, he sighed in relief. It would be all right now. Yeah, he wanted to spend money for nothing... how much could a scarf cost in this store? Three hundred bucks? Maybe. But even three hundred was worth getting out of here, then he'd go straight home and forget about this shopping nonsense.
Beta turned the card in his hand a few times and looked at it carefully.
"It's not fake," he said, probably more to himself, then read the name aloud, "Ivan Novak... that's who you stole it from?"
"Really?" He asked incredulously; the guy was just an idiot. "I steal a platinum card, and the first thing I do is come and steal from this store full of overpriced tacky stuff? Does that really make sense to you?"
"Our merchandise is of the highest quality and respects the latest trends. It sells very well," the Beta salesman said proudly, more offended by the fact that he had called the local clothing 'tacky' than trying to think how nonsensical his statement about stealing a card and a scarf actually sounded.
Just trying to get a platinum card was stupid. The really expensive things were also tempting to steal, it was stupid to steal them. Phones, tablets, and laptops had location tracking or could be remotely unlocked, so they were just for spare parts. And the more expensive the electronics, the more people used those options. Expensive cars were more desirable than twenty-year-old junk, and cards like the one Cas had given him had such service that the owner on the other side of the planet would complain that he couldn't find it, and here in New York it would be automatically blocked.
"Yeah, well, your stuff is awesome and great. I don't care. Give me the card back and I'm out of here. You have no right to keep me here, because technically, even though I had the scarf in my pocket, I didn't take it out of the store. So I didn't steal it. If you take this up with the police, you're just going to make a fool of yourself."
This objection usually worked because it was true and justified.
Putting goods in your pocket was not theft under the law in any state. It was only theft when you went through the cash register or left the store. Since he hadn't done that, the police couldn't arrest him for theft, but they might want to identify him, and since he had no ID as an Omega in Alpha's custody... yeah, that would be a problem.
"Technically... no, you didn't steal it, but you tried. And I wouldn't be surprised if the police had something else on you. And then there's the card," he held up Castiel's credit card. "You stole it from its rightful owner, who will be very happy that he found out about the theft before you had a chance to withdraw anything from it."
"I doubt he'll be happy," he growled half aloud.
This was fucked up. If he didn't use violence to fight his way out - that would be on everyone's security footage and would land him in jail immediately, rightfully so - then he had no choice but to hope that when the cops took his prints to identify him, they wouldn't arrest him right away, but call his Alpha first. Cas would then hopefully be able to explain the credit card misunderstanding and convince the cops not to arrest him for violating some shit about the Omaha Distress Act. But he wasn't looking forward to that. Not at all. He suspected the Alpha would be pissed that he'd gone out unsupervised. No, hell no, it wasn't just a hunch, he knew he'd be pissed. He'd even be pissed if nothing had happened, but like this... he'd probably be furious.
"Okay," he said resignedly, grabbed his jacket and put it on, effectively covering his chip, and sat down. "Then we'll wait for the police," and my angry Alpha he added mentally.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
°°0°°
"How much did they pay you?" Pyotr asked.
"Five thousand..." Beta answered almost unintelligibly. With a few knocked out teeth, broken bones in his face and a smashed nose, it was hard to talk. Not to mention his split lips and chewed tongue.
"You're an idiot," Castiel said, blowing smoke. "You want to be bribed with five grand when you regularly get two from us every month? Can't you seriously calculate that working with us will earn you a lot more? No, of course not," he answered himself with a grin. "Besides, what do you expect from a loser who gets twenty-four thousand a year just for looking the other way when the time is right and still lives in a trailer on a parking lot. Getting rid of people like you is a public service. The city should start paying us for it," he grinned, then nodded at Vadim and said in Russian: "Get rid of him and then clean up the place.
He didn't wait for the order to be carried out and went to his car. He did not need to see this loser die. He was just one of the many poor losers who worked on the docks as one of the night watchmen. It wasn't the highest paying job, but it wasn't the worst either, and it could support a family of four pretty well, but only if you weren't also a drunk and didn't gamble away everything you earned and shove it into slot machines. It was his debts from betting directly with their Brotherhood and his job at the port that made him a good candidate to cooperate with the smuggling. They would tell him when and where the shipment was coming, and he would simply change shifts so that he could be at the port and look the other way when they took delivery. On the last shipment, for some reason, he decided to use his contacts, delay the container it was in, and contact the Albanians who then stole the shipment. And got paid a measly five grand for it. He wasn't the brightest, considering the contents of the container were worth close to a million. But he was smart enough to quickly realize he'd made a big mistake and run. He'd managed to hide for a few days before they found him and beat the crap out of him about what he'd done and for how much, and the fact that two of their men who were supposed to be overseeing the shipment here at the port had ended up getting their heads shot off. The Albanians just got rid of them and probably dumped their bodies at sea. Nothing unexpected or surprising. The only strange thing was that none of the guns from the shipment had shown up on the streets yet. The Albanian bastards were probably waiting to sell them until things calmed down.
Behind him he heard the typical sound of a cattle gun hitting someone's head. This weapon was a really cool invention. Just as effective as a normal gun, much quieter than a gun, albeit one with a silencer, so it could be used in the middle of the day in a crowded place, and it didn't leave a bullet with any identifiable grooves. It didn't even leave a trail that would lead the cops to a specific piece.
Not turning at the sound, he continued through the plastic-covered exit and then made his way across the construction site to his car.
The construction company Bratva owned, and on whose board he sat, had a decent contract on the site that not only allowed them to launder a few million, but also gave them a private place to interrogate and murder. And as cliché as it was, the concrete foundations were great for hiding corpses in the thirties, the eighties, and now. Some things hadn't changed.
His American phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out and frowned at the name of the caller. It was one of the banks where he had an account.
He was already at his car, so he got in first, taking the call with one hand and stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray with the other.
"Novak."
"Good afternoon, Alpha Novak. This is James Anderson. I'm very sorry to bother you, but we've received a report of possible fraudulent use of your credit card. Specifically, the American Express Platinum card, number..."
"I only have one Platinum card with your company," he interrupted impatiently; he didn't need to dictate the number, he didn't remember it anyway, but he knew he had given the Platinum American to Dean this morning so he could buy something that would make him happy. He felt a little guilty for neglecting it the last few days because of the Albanian fuckers and hoped that Omega could keep himself busy with shopping. At first he had assumed that Dean would buy something online, but when he woke up around noon he thought he might want to go out, so for lack of other options he had instructed Balthazar to offer him a shopping trip. And some other fun. Balthazar was better at that than Castiel. He knew how to make fun, and he even knew how to entertain himself and others with a minimum of alcohol and no drugs. And when it came to Dean, Balthazar was also responsible for keeping an eye on Omega.
"I gave my Omega this card this morning so he could go shopping."
"I see," Beta replied in an understanding but professionally polite tone. "It seems someone stole it from him and tried to use it at Chic Ombre. They called us directly from the store to alert us to the situation. Of course, we've already taken the appropriate...
"What kind of store is this?" he asked with a very bad premonition. Dean's ability to get into trouble, even find it or cause it himself, was incredible, and this situation was ripe for another Omega blunder.
"Excuse me?"
"That store... Chic Ombre... what store is that?"
"I'll find it for you," Beta promised, then there was a tapping on the keyboard and finally Castiel got the answer, "It's an Omega fashion store on Fifth Avenue."
It wasn't exactly where Castiel expected Dean to go, but he couldn't imagine Omega having his credit card stolen and then the thief going to Fifth Avenue. It was much more likely that Omega had gone there alone, perhaps out of curiosity or a desire to buy something expensive. The only problem was that he was supposed to have someone with him at all times to keep him out of trouble. Either Balthazar or, if not him, Nikon and Arslan. What was he doing alone on Fifth Avenue? How, and more importantly, why did he go out alone in the first place? Was he so stupid that he didn't know where he would end up if he got caught? No, Dean was a lot of things, but he wasn't really stupid. He was just reckless, childish, incapable of looking out for his own safety, and unwilling to listen to well-meaning advice, let alone orders.
Castiel's Alpha growled. Partly in fear of what trouble his Omega mate had gotten himself into again, but mostly in anger. And Castiel bared his teeth in a frustrated snarl, mirroring the mood of his barking Alpha. The Omega's lack of respect for him crossed the line from pleasantly irritating to unacceptable at this point. Was it really so hard for Dean to obey simple rules?
He exhaled sharply, pushing his Alpha and his anger to the back of his mind.
"You were wrong. My card has not been stolen or misused. I'll contact Chic Ombre directly and explain everything. I'll get back to you after that."
He didn't wait for an answer and hung up, but not his cell phone. He quickly looked up the store in question, especially its exact address. Of course it would take him a while to get there, but at least he was already in Manhattan. He tapped the number, which dialed the call, placed the phone on the dashboard and put the key in the ignition. He had to hope that whatever had happened, Dean was still in the store and that it would be easy to resolve this situation.
Notes:
Just a little trivia... the night watchman was nonviolently held in the clutches of the Bratva. First he made a comrade in arms with a bookie who works for the Russians, who threatened to kill him if he didn't pay up properly, and then the Russians offered him a well-paid "side job". First he paid off his debts (the money came back to the Bratva) and then he started gambling the extra money he had (the money came back to the Bratva again). And he gets paid such high amounts because the more he has, the more he bets. So he was actually working for Bratva in the wharf for free, even paying the Russians, because he was able to bet more than two thousand a month.
Chapter Text
The officers were two Beta females. One was much older than the other. An African-American woman whose hair was starting to turn white on her cheeks and whose face was very wrinkled. She may not have been that old, but she certainly looked it. The other was a Hispanic woman, the most interesting thing about her was her long braided hair, which she wore in a bun sticking out from under her hat.
The older one had definitely been on duty longer, because she was the one who first asked for names and what had happened. Strangely enough, she hadn't asked for fingerprints or any ID. That made Dean hope that she would want to settle this by agreement and just get him out of the store and that would be it.
The salesman explained that he had been suspicious of Dean from the moment he entered the store, and that he was not surprised when one of his regular customers told him that she had seen him put something in his pocket. He didn't mention which customer it was, but it was obvious to Dean. It was the Alpha bitch, of course.
He then handed the officer Alpha's credit card and voiced his suspicion that it didn't belong to Dean, which... yeah, it didn't, and yeah, technically it wasn't allowed. Sure it was a break of the terms of the contract, maybe even some clause, to handle another person's credit card, but hell, who's never done that? Still, the cop approached him as if he'd done something terrible.
"Obviously it's not your card."
"No, it isn't. I never said it was, but I didn't steal it like this clown," he nodded his head at the clerk, who immediately puffed up like an old frog, "thinks... ma'am," he said, really polite. No, he didn't like cops, but these two didn't look like they deserved to be rude to hers. "They belong to my Alpha," he emphasized his words by touching the collar. It was a bit of a risk, but the chip was on the back of his neck, covered by the collar of his jacket, and until they took his prints, which would surely tell them that Omega was in the care of an Alpha, the collar just meant that an Alpha was taking care of him. Besides, the collar was the most luxurious and expensive thing he wore, next to the shirt he'd borrowed from Case. Maybe that would prove that he deserved the credit card because his Alpha was rich and sent him shopping.
"He lent it to me to go shopping. I know it's not exactly kosher to borrow a credit card, but who doesn't? If you want, I'll give you the number and you can call him. He'll confirm who I am and that I didn't take his credit card."
"Let's start with an ID check. Officer Rodriguez, take over," she urged her colleague, and Dean already knew he was screwed. Now they were going to take his fingerprints and they'd know right away who he really was and what his situation was.
"I'm going to need some documents and then your fingerprints," the younger of the two officers ordered him, unhooking the portable finger scanner from his belt.
Dean took a deep breath and thought of an excuse. At least he could stall, refuse to give his fingerprints, something like that. That would get him into custody, but it would buy him some time, and maybe the Alpha would figure it out by then. By the time he had summarized his version of events, that he had left his driver's license at home and that having his fingerprints taken violated his constitutional right to privacy, there was a knock at the door.
The Beta salesman opened it and a young Omega, whom Dean had seen earlier rearranging some tapes on the counter next to the cash register, entered the room. She was petite, slender, but with wide hips and large breasts, the way an Omega should be, and the right shy smile that Dean would never have naturally.
" I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but I have," she held up the phone she was holding, "Alpha Novak on the phone looking for the store manager."
"I'll take him. You can go now," the Beta salesman took the phone, then nodded to the officers. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, and although it would have been more appropriate to walk away, he put the phone to his ear with a smug but discreet smile.
Dean leaned back, a shy smile twisting his face, and if he'd ever been truly nervous, the nervousness would have fallen off him by now. The Alpha would be pissed. Yeah, he'd definitely be pissed at Dean himself eventually, but first he'd ride out this deal like a storm cloud, because that was just the way Cas was.
"This is David Johnson, manager of Chic Ombre, a store that sells elegant, playful Omega fashion."
Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing. Castiel absolutely hated those little pleasantries and cheery smiles from waiters in restaurants or stores. It probably had something to do with what they said about Russians, that they were cold, hard, and never smiled. It wasn't entirely true, but they weren't much for casual small talk while marking either.
"Yes, we have your card here... Yes, Omega had it..." he agreed, looking at Dean searchingly, as if to make sure. He must have seen Dean's fangs before, so he assumed he was Omega despite his body type, but if he needed confirmation... Dean smiled brightly to show him the full set of teeth, including the small Omega fangs. "Yes, dark honey hair and green eyes... jeans, t-shirt, black shirt and some kind of jacket. A very unattractive combination... I don't know, I'm just a Beta," he continued, his smug smile fading with each answer, and by the time he probably had to admit that he couldn't detect Dean's scent, the smile was completely gone from his face. "Sure, we did... no, of course... I wanted to... I understand, Alpha... I can't oblige, I've already called them," he replied, now not only without the smug smile, but with his face stretched and looking at the officers. "Sure, I'll try to explain..." There was a longer silence. "Alright, Alpha, I'll take care of it... Sure, we'll wait. I'd still like to..." From the way he paused and the way he looked at the phone as he removed it from his ear, it was easy to tell that Castiel had just hung up the phone in the middle of his sentence. Just as he was wont to do.
"So?" Dean stretched out questioningly, intertwining his fingers at the back of his neck and leaning back a little in his chair into a more comfortable position as he peered amusedly through lowered lashes at the suddenly slightly pale salesman.
The salesman gave him a quick look, pursed his lips, then stepped closer to the officers, lowering his voice as if he didn't want Dean to hear what he was about to say. Ridiculous. This room was tiny, windowless, and with the air conditioning humming, he could hear him even if he whispered.
"I'm very sorry, but there seems to have been a big misunderstanding. Omega Winchester here is a good friend of a long-time customer of ours" - bullshit! Castiel would have no reason to come to the shop for Omega, nor would he want anything here - "He is a very recent acquaintance, and I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him in person. I didn't know who he was and I completely misunderstood the situation. Omega Winchester tried on the scarf and then accidentally put it in his pocket. And Alpha Novak lent him the credit card. He even informed us that his Omega acquaintance was coming in to shop today, but like I said, I had never met Omega Winchester, so I just didn't recognize him. I'm very sorry to have wasted your time, but we don't need your help. There's no reason for it."
"Good," the older of the two policewomen nodded, not surprised by what the other Beta was telling her. "There is this, though," she held up her credit card. "We want to make sure it gets into the hands of the rightful owner."
"Sure, that's no problem. Alpha Novak is on his way here right now to explain the whole situation in person," he said calmly, but Dean was pretty sure he could see the tension in his upper lip. He wasn't even surprised. When an angry Alpha wanted to 'explain' something in person, it was never very pleasant for anyone around, and even though he knew he'd get it eventually, he was enjoying the moment. And his Omega was enjoying it too, purring contentedly at the slightly ridiculous thought of his Alpha coming here to defend him like some dark knight in a fucking expensive sports car. Yeah, very funny idea, but there was something appealing about it all the same.
"But he doesn't want Omega Winchester further restricted, interrogated, or his integrity... compromised in any way. He specifically mentioned no fingerprints."
"Confirmation of identity is standard procedure," echoed the younger officer.
"Alpha Novak said you'd say that, and I'm here to remind you that if you take Omege Winchester's fingerprints without his consent or arrest him for it, he will inform Mr. Shurley of Shurley & Edlund."
"I wouldn't go that far. We'll wait for Alpha Novak and deal with him," the senior officer decided.
"But that's completely against standard procedure," the younger one objected, almost indignantly or something.
The older officer frowned at her.
"How long have you been on the job, Rodríguez?"
"Five months..."
"I've been walking the Fifth for eight years, and believe me when I tell you that it's best for everyone if we do this quietly. We'll have less paperwork and Alpha Novak and his Omega won't have a bad day."
"And I'll also appreciate it if there's no big scandal," the salesman agreed.
Since they were two against one, the young policewoman accepted her superior's decision with a less than convinced expression and didn't argue further.
The Beta salesman looked quickly from one cop to the other and, seeing that the matter was probably settled, turned to Dean and immediately smiled professionally.
"Omega Winchester," he addressed him just as friendly as the first time, just as fake, but hopefully this time it wasn't some kind of trap. "I would like to apologize for the misunderstanding and my behavior. And to offer you one of our best Omega workers to help you make your choice right now."
"Thanks for the offer, buddy," he said, leaning back in his chair, "but you don't really think I'm going to want to shop in this store after all this, do you?" He raised his eyebrows considerably, amused by Beta's expression. It was obvious that whatever Castiel had told him on the phone, the salesman had deduced that Dean, or 'Alpha Novak', might be a potential customer, and now he wanted to salvage the whole situation.
"Sure, I totally get that. How about a coffee or a glass of champagne to apologize for our behavior?"
"Yeah, sure, I'll never turn down coffee," he agreed, getting up and heading straight for the closed door.
He paused and gave Beta a significant look. . He immediately ran over and not only opened the door - which he had to do anyway - but also held it open for Dean.
He walked out with a rueful smile, feeling like a bloody winner. Even though he knew the shit would hit his head eventually, he savored the moment.
°°0°°
He stopped the car at the curb, turned on his blinkers because he wasn't going to stay here more than ten minutes, and went straight to the glove compartment to find a tube of Sniff Limiter. Though he'd never been to an Omega store before, he assumed he'd be saturated with the sweet smell of omegas, which lingered like molasses, always filling his nose, making him feel like he was choking, and coating his tongue, making him want to throw up after a while.
He dug out the tube and shook some of the ointment under his nose. The sharp smell of menthol stung his nose, but better menthol than the sickeningly sweet smell of Omega.
He tossed the tube back into the glove compartment and got out of the car.
He managed to park within sight of Chic Ombre, so he didn't even have to look for the entrance. He walked past the window, which he glanced at with an annoyed grin - Omega fashion was ridiculous, and Castiel was really glad his Omega didn't dress like that - and entered the shop. Despite the menthol and rubbery smell of decomposing pheromone molecules, he caught a mix of sweet Omega scents, but they were faint and easy to ignore, so he could focus on the reason he'd come here in the first place.
With a few brisk steps, he approached the counter, behind which stood a petite Omega woman, dressed in a light pink outfit that looked like a shop uniform. She looked up at him and her nostrils flared. All it took was for her eyes to instantly land somewhere on Castiel's chin, lowering her head in submission. His Alpha purred contentedly. This was it. This was the behavior he liked at the moment. As much as he loved Dean's strength, determination, and self-sufficiency, and he didn't like it when his Omega was too submissive, as he had been in the few days after he'd finally taken him in, he wasn't in the mood for his other excesses at the moment. He had to deal with the fucking Albanians who had stolen their arms shipment, which de facto meant war, no matter what they did in response. Because they couldn't leave it unanswered. And war meant death. They already had two on their side, and they were sure to add to that number. Besides, Alastair... he certainly didn't have the time or inclination to dwell on the fact that Dean couldn't follow very simple rules and could be taken away because of it.
He needed Omega's cooperation. To finally understand his role in the future. To be able to be at least a little supportive, because... really, what was so hard about not causing Castiel any problems, taking care of the house, going to school regularly, being nice to the right people? Women and Omegas much dumber and incompetent than Dean could handle that.
"Alpha Novak. I'm here for my Omega," he said curtly, he really didn't want to waste his time here.
"Of course, Alpha. He's in the back office. Please follow me, I'll take you there," the Omega saleswoman replied, pointing him to a boarded-up door in the wall behind the counter.
He let her lead him to it and opened the door to a small hallway that led to another door, which Omega knocked on and held open for him as well.
With a quick glance, he scanned the room. An ordinary office, nothing special. Automatically, he took in the air, but the minty smell and the fact that everyone in the room was surely a Beta except for Dean and Omega, who had brought him in and closed the door behind him, made it impossible for him to get a real sense of the atmosphere. There was a man in the room, probably the store manager, and two uniformed policewomen.
He turned his gaze to Dean, unable to suppress a small shiver of concern for Omega, which his Alpha confirmed with a warning grunt. If Dean had been fingerprinted, they already knew that Omega was in the Alpha's custody, and that meant he was already facing jail time.
But Dean didn't look the least bit scared or embarrassed, in fact he had a slyly amused smile on his face as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, a small cup of coffee in his hand. He was enjoying the whole situation immensely, and it sent an instant rush of adrenaline through Castiel's veins. He gritted his teeth to stifle an angry growl, but he made no attempt to suppress his anger. That little Omega bitch... He'd broken every rule he'd set, put himself in danger of not only arrest but death as their Brotherhood's competition waited for an opportunity to harm Castiel's Mate, shown zero respect for Castiel's authority and for Castiel himself, and he still found it all funny.
He fixed a cold stare directly into Dean's eyes. For a moment, he saw flickers of amusement in the green grass, but they quickly disappeared, replaced by confusion. Then Omega sucked in air, causing his shoulders to stiffen and his gaze to drop immediately. Something, at least. His Alpha grunted with satisfaction. He wanted nothing more than proper submission at this point.
"Alpha Novak. It's good to see you. How are you?" the Beta approached him, addressing him as if they knew each other. One of America's many insufferable phonies. They all smiled and treated everyone with an uncomfortable familiarity.
"Where's my card?" He asked, not bothering to feign politeness.
"We have it," came the reply from the policewoman, an old black woman with a wrinkled face. "I'm Officer Rivers and this is Officer Rodríguez and we were called to this situation."
"There is no situation that requires police assistance."
"Mr. Johnson has already made it clear to us that there was a misunderstanding," the officer replied. "But there's still a problem with the card. It's already been turned over to us, and we can't release it to anyone other than the rightful owner. We need proof that you are."
"Will my signature do?"
"Sure," the officer nodded.
The Beta store manager immediately took the initiative and pulled a piece of paper from the drawer and placed it on the edge of the desk along with an open pen. Castiel walked over to the desk, paying little attention to Dean, who had been sitting quietly beside him, his big green eyes now fixed on him, picked up the pen, and quickly scribbled his signature. Then he handed the paper to the policewoman. She took it and spent a ridiculously long time comparing it to the signature on the credit card.
"They seem to match," she finally decided, handing Castiel his card. "Here you go, but please be more careful next time," he said in a professionally serious tone. "I know it's customary to lend credit cards to family and good friends," she glanced at Dean, "but it's irresponsible and also dangerous. You can never be sure how the person you lend the card to will handle it.
"You can have no worries. This card has a limit of fifty thousand." Without much interest, he put the credit card in his pocket. "It would be an inconvenient loss, but it wouldn't make any difference to my overall savings. Much more inconvenient," he glanced obliquely at the store manager, "was having to leave an important meeting and drive all the way out here for such a trivial problem," he put air quotes around the word 'problem. "It's not the first time I've loaned someone a credit card, and it's never happened before."
"I'm very sorry for the inconvenience, Alpha Novak," the Beta manager said quickly. "I take full responsibility for this. I didn't realize that Omega Winchester belonged to you, and he didn't even mention that he knew you, so surely you'll understand..."
"All I understand is that you looked at my Omega and didn't think he was good enough to shop in your store," he finished coldly for him. He knew the situation only too well. As much as he enjoyed the small pleasures of life that money could buy, it had taken him a long time to learn to flaunt his wealth. And that was the point. Because it didn't matter how many zeros a man had in his bank account or how big a wad of cash he carried in his pocket, it was always about looking rich. With a fine jacket, polished shoes, and a gold watch, even a homeless man could sneak into a Kremlin reception.
An insufferable little Beta with snobbish mannerisms who deserved a bullet between the eyes for his stunted worldview alone, but who would be pardoned because he couldn't help it.
"I've got good news for you, he'll never shop here again." He glanced at Dean, who for once remained silent and managed to look a little guilty. "Get up, Omega, we're leaving," he urged Dean, and without waiting to see if Omega would follow or if anyone else wanted to say anything, he simply walked to the door and opened it wide to let Dean through.
When Omega was on his level - to his credit, the amused smirk had already been washed off his face and he looked appropriately guilty - he took him firmly but unobtrusively by the elbow, stopping him only long enough to growl in his ear:
"We'll talk about this in the car!"
"Yes, Alpha," Dean replied with all due humility, and when Castiel released him, he walked without speaking to the open door of the shop.
And Castiel followed him.
°°0°°
The Alpha was furious. He was really angry, not as entertainingly dangerous as he'd imagined. And even though he knew the Alpha would be mad at him, too, he didn't think it would be that bad. So when he lowered his eyes and hunched his shoulders, there was no hint of fake submission. It was real. His Omega cowered in the corner, his instincts screaming nothing but submission. To roll over onto his back and show his neck. Like an obedient Omega. And then, as Castiel gripped him tightly around the shoulders and led him swiftly through the shop, the intense, suffocating smell of bitter almonds filled his nose and almost immediately he smelled himself. The sweet smell of defenseless Omega. His damned body was reacting to the presence of the angry Alpha exactly as nature expected and biology wanted, and as annoying as it was, Dean hoped it would be useful this time.
He didn't want the Alpha to get so upset. He really didn't. He didn't even think it could happen. This trip had been a damn bad idea, he could see that clearly now, and his stomach began to clench in fear, because even the Omega scent didn't seem to help. Castiel's anger didn't subside, it seemed to grow, and the moment he opened the passenger door, Dean could clearly see him breathing heavily and clenching his jaw.
So he said nothing and quickly slipped into the car.
Alpha got behind the wheel and as soon as he closed the door behind him, he put the key in the ignition. He didn't bother with anything, especially the turn signals, he just turned the wheel and stepped on the gas, causing the car to literally fly out into the thankfully sparse traffic. Still, the driver of the Mercedes that Castiel had hit had to slam on his brakes and honk his horn.
Fortunately, the Alpha didn't react to the other driver in any way, just made another dangerous maneuver and started weaving between cars, trying to get off Fifth as soon as possible. He didn't seem to know where he was going.
They'd been in this situation before. Dean remembered it all too well, so he figured his sincere apology had fixed everything. Maybe it was time to try it again.
"I'm sorry... Cas." Finally, after a brief hesitation, he decided to use Castiel's name instead of 'Alpha', even though it tugged at his lips.
"You're sorry?" Alpha asked sharply, giving Dean a look so icy it made him cower. "For what, my dear? For the fact that you could have ended up in jail? For making me quit my part-time job for you? For being humiliated and ridiculed because of you? For blatantly ignoring my orders and my authority? Or is this just a game for you to laugh at?"
"It is not! I'm not ignoring anything. I just... I didn't want to cause you any trouble, okay? I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to be more..." the words died on his lips; fuck it all. "I wanted to be more like Balthazar."
Shit! He said it, sounding pathetic and whiny as he said it. Like a real, defenseless Omega, and he wasn't even trying. The problem was that it didn't work anyway. The strong smell of bitter almonds filled the car, even though the air conditioning was on full blast.
"Don't drag Balthazar into it. I'll deal with him later for not taking care of you. You decided to sneak out of the lair and go out on your own, even though you know what it might cost you. Are you really that stupid?! So what are you going to tell me? Chto?!" He growled angrily, and before Dean knew it, he was hitting him, tugging at his hair behind his ear.
It hurt, especially when he jerked his head, but more than the pain, he felt a twinge of fear. Fear that, as always, quickly turned to anger because... he wasn't the only one here who was damn guilty! Castiel hadn't given a damn about him since he'd taken him in. He acted as if Dean was just part of the interior. Some pretty maid. He'd let that tiny little French Beta into their lair... disturbing Dean's nest... Shit, just the thought of talking to Alpha's ex disgusted him on so many levels. And it made him jealous. Yeah, he was jealous of his Alpha being so close to Beta on a daily basis, who he used to fuck. And hell yeah! He had every right to be jealous!
The wave of anger not only suppressed his need to submit, it also drove his Omega out of his corner, making her growl and snarl.
Dean bared his fangs, growled too, and knocked Castiel's hand off his head. He enjoyed the surprised look in the blue eyes that followed.
"What were you thinking?!" He snarled, baring his teeth even more; his gums tingled ghostly and the air began to smell of a mixture of bitter almonds and equally bitter pine resin. "That I'll be locked in apartment for days? Or that I'll be followed by your men all the time? What will you do in the meantime? Go down to the bar and fuck that French asshole?! I'm not some obedient domestic Omega! I won't tolerate that fucking dummy, and I especially won't tolerate him coming into our lair! Do you understand me?! If I ever see him again, I'll rip his throat out!"
"What are you talking about?"
He almost, almost sounded like he didn't know, which was ridiculous. Dean grinned.
"Like you don't know," he snorted. "You sent your damn ex to babysit me. You even gave him a code so he could come over whenever he wanted!" He spat angrily, staring hard and intently at Castiel's taut profile, his sharp chin and prominent nose.
The Alpha didn't answer. The silence grew longer, and Dean's anger, unfueled by Castiel's response, slowly faded until there was nothing left of it. The Alpha had obviously decided to remain ostentatiously silent. Another solution. So they're going to be damn silent, maybe forever. As if they'd said a lot to each other lately. Dean still had some last words he wanted to say.
"I'm not complaining, Cas," he said in a much lower voice, more tired than anything else. "I'm not complaining that you're still working, because I know you have to. I'm not complaining that I miss you because I know you'll come back eventually and I don't really think you're cheating on me. I didn't mean to imply that I was. I was just angry. And I didn't want to cause trouble, I just... I wanted to make you happy. To make sure you didn't have to be ashamed of me for being..." he looked down at himself, tugging at the lapels of his jacket a little, "just a regular redneck. That I have no class at all. Because I'm trying to..." he paused briefly, running a hand through his hair, tired of the anger that had swept through him moments ago. "I'm trying to work on this relationship," he said, no matter how ridiculous it sounded to the point of being pathetic. "And yeah, I did something stupid today. I know it, and I'll never do it again. But I did it because... I want to keep you, you know? I don't know how. I just don't know! Like, I'm only fucking 16 and my dad wasn't very good at this stuff, so I'm doing everything I can. But you don't help, do you? You don't even try. You don't talk to me... about anything. Like Sam..."
"You're right, Dean," Alpha turned to him, so serious it was almost frightening and made him tense. "I haven't had time for you lately because of work. I haven't had time to... work on our relationship. I should fix that," Castiel admitted his mistake, or so it sounded. "And I should start with something that needs to be cleared up. A conversation I've been waiting for a better opportunity to have, which hasn't come yet, and I don't think there's any point in waiting any longer. You deserve honesty."
That sounded threatening.
"Your brother is with a really good family that will give him a safe home and background. There's no reason to remove him from that environment, and I have no interest in taking care of a stranger's Alpha puppy," he said with a cold ruthlessness that bit into Dean's stomach.
No, that couldn't be true. His Alpha would never want to be torn away from him by his brother.
"You promised...!"
"I never promised you anything," he interrupted before he could finish.
He took a breath to protest, but then it dawned on him, much to his dismay, that no, in fact, Castiel had never explicitly promised him anything. He'd never said he'd try to get Sam into his care or anything like that, it was just before... just after they'd met, he'd talked about taking care of them both. At the time, Dean had seen it as a way to impress him, because what could work better on an abandoned Omega with a puppy than a promise to take care of his puppy. But when he saw their apartment, he was sure that Castiel was serious. Surely he wouldn't have set up an apartment for two if he wasn't.
"But the place he bought for us! It was furnished for the two of us!"
"Yes, it was, but I did that before I met your brother," he replied, as if that alone explained something to the man. "Now that I know what he's like... We wouldn't have gotten along under the same roof."
He half grinned, half growled.
"What's he like? A spoiled brat, you mean?" He asked pointedly.
"Partly," the Alpha agreed, so unnaturally calm it was scary. "Mostly, he's growing up to be a strong and dominant Alpha. We'd have a hard time getting along if he were my own pup, but since he's not... there are times when just thinking about him irritates me, and I doubt Samuel sees it any differently. Two unrelated Alphas in the same lair will either fight or fuck sooner or later. It can't be otherwise. I'm not going to risk either of those things happening. Your brother stays where he is and we don't discuss this any further."
"I will never leave Sammy! You can't make me!"
"Net?" He turned to him, coldness in his eyes and his lips drawn into a thin line. "Is that what you really think? If you do, you're sorely mistaken. I can make you do anything I want, and you don't want to see how."
He clenched his jaw. His heart was pounding, blood coursing through his veins so fast he could hear it along with the ghostly growl of his Omega. It was a mixture of rage, but also fear; a kind of deep, instinctive terror that he would be permanently separated from his pup, who bloomed like a cool flower right next to his heart, and the fear of realizing that yes, Castiel was telling the truth.
He could do whatever he wanted. Dean knew that. He knew it in a corner of his mind he didn't like to visit. There was nothing, law or man, that could stop Alpha if he really wanted something. But still...
He clenched his hands.
"Sam is my brother, my pup, my blood. You don't. No matter what you do, as long as I'm alive, he will always be more important to me than you. I won't leave him. Never. You, on the other hand..." he let the meaning fade away.
Castiel gave him a long, cold stare, his face expressionless, his scent long since diluted from bitter almond rage to the smell of stale old cake.
"Khorosho. I hear and understand you, Omega," the Alpha spoke in a flat tone, without a hint of anger or, ultimately, any emotion. "Your decision is yours alone. But remember one thing and think about it carefully... No one dares leave a man like me. You are mine as long as I want you, and if you try to leave, you will die and so will your brother. It is inevitable."
It wasn't really a threat, it was a statement, spoken in a flat, conversational tone, and that made it all the more frightening. Threats...threats were mostly empty because they were meant to instill fear. In a way, what Castiel was saying didn't inspire fear. Not the kind of fear a threat would inspire. It was the fear brought on by the realization of the inevitable.
Dean swallowed. He didn't know what to say. He had nothing to say. Everything had been said, and so he just turned his head away in silence, his gaze fixed on the traffic outside the window and the gentle rain that had begun to fall from the sky.
Chapter Text
The ride was in complete silence. A bitterness slowly emerged from the mixture of angry smells, and the air was filled with a kind of mustiness. A mixture of two week old cherry pie with almonds forgotten deep in the fridge and rotting apple blossoms and old, rotting pine wood. It was a bad smell that made Dean feel almost nauseous and he was really glad when the car finally stopped and he could quickly step out into the cool air of the garage that smelled of exhaust fumes, burnt tires and motor oil.
He didn't look back at Castiel, didn't watch what he was doing, just made his way across the parking lot to the elevators. He wanted to be somewhere warm. He wanted to curl up in a nest, even though he didn't have one, or get drunk, or punch someone. Ideally all together. But he also wanted to bury his nose in Alpha's shoulder and enjoy the wonderful smell of roasting cherries, which he loved so much and which always gave him a feeling of security. But he wanted his brother just as much. He wanted to crawl into bed with him, hug him, and bury his nose in his too-long hair that smelled of sandalwood soaked in olive oil and that unmistakable puppy scent that always made his Omega purr and feel content.
Tears stung his eyes. He blinked to drive them away, but because the air in the garage was cool and rolled in a steady stream from one air conditioning vent to the next, a telltale tear found its way out of the corner of Dean's eye. Fuck this! He angrily wiped it away. He wasn't going to cry like some little Omega kid.
Behind him, he heard footsteps approaching quickly, and the familiar weight of Castiel's hand settled on the back of his neck. He tensed in anticipation of a tug on his hair, but the Alpha did no such thing. He just slid down his neck, over his shoulder and arm, finally slipping his arm under his elbow and around his waist, pulling Dean close. The warm flesh pressing against his back and the whiff of sweet cherry made him tense even more at first, but when his nose buried itself in his throat and he heard the Alpha inhale deeply and make a sound like a mixture of a disgruntled growl and something like a whimper... At that moment, his body relaxed almost against his will, and his Omega, cowering unhappily in the corner, whimpered and imaginatively came out to meet the cuddling Alpha.
"Dine... moy sladkiy," he growled in his ear in Russian, and although Dean didn't really want to, he tilted his head to the side, brushing against Alpha's chin; damn it, why did he need Castiel so badly? So much that it almost hurt.
"You're my Mate. I want you to be happy. I'll do anything for you."
Castiel's words stirred a hope that quickly blossomed in his chest. Perhaps the Alpha had changed his mind. Maybe he didn't mean what he said in the car. He was angry, and when people are angry, they say terrible things.
He turned in Castiel's arms and looked hopefully into his eyes.
"Really?" He asked, his voice stupidly thick from the way a mixture of worry and hope gripped his throat.
"Yes, of course, dorogoy." A small, sweet smile lifted the corners of Castiel's mouth, and warmth crept into his eyes, and as he cupped Dean's chin, his touch was soft and gentle. "I understand you're lonely and you miss your pup. You're an Omega, it's only natural," he said with a hint of the usual condescension he spoke to Dean with when he thought he'd said something stupid, which... it wasn't quite okay because these weren't just some stupid Omega feelings, but if it helped that the Alpha thought that, then why would Dean argue with him? "I can fix this. Da? We'll get our own puppy. What do you say?"
He blinked, half confused, half surprised. Surely Castiel didn't mean what he thought.
"Wait...what?"
"I know you're young, and I didn't plan on us having kids so soon... and the Alpha custody thing is a hurdle too," he said deliberately, a small, thoughtful wrinkle forming between his brows, "but it can be arranged if it makes you happy."
"You... you don't mean that seriously, do you?" He asked, still incredulous. Where did the Alpha come up with this nonsense anyway? Sometimes he really didn't understand what was going on in Castiel's head, and this was a case where the Alpha was acting and thinking like a complete idiot or lunatic, to put it mildly.
Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in air.
"Of course I think. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't mean it. It's a good solution," he began his explanation in a tone so stupidly serious and confident that Dean could only marvel. "You'll have a puppy of your own...someone you can take care of like your brother and forget about Samuel."
"Are you crazy?" He continued to ask incredulously, because... fuck it. Like seriously, fuck this and fuck Alpha too. This was completely fucking... he didn't even have the words for it. Anger simply rose in him, and indeed his Omega growled in the need to protect his pup.
He took a step back, breaking free of Castiel's embrace, and threw his arms out with a grin.
"Are you really so stupid that you think I'm going to forget my own brother because you shove a bun in my oven?" He asked in a mocking tone, which of course erased the previous confusion and warm tenderness from Castiel's face. "I'm sixteen, I'm in damn high school, and the last thing I want to do is waddle down the hall with my belly button like some kind of penguin. I don't want to change shitty diapers or have boobs like a porn star. I don't want a puppy, I want my brother. I want Sam, and a dozen of my own puppies won't replace him because..." he took a step forward and pointed a snarling finger at Castiel, "...you can't replace one puppy with another. That's not how things work, but you'll never understand that because you're a bloody Alpha. And Alphas are too empty-headed to run away from such things," he spat angrily, teeth bared and the bitter scent of an angry Omega so strong around him that, unbelievable as it seemed, it held Castiel still. And silent. His face stern and his lips tight.
Dean turned and headed for the elevator. Anger surged through him, but he also felt a small pit of fear in his stomach. It was stupid to treat Castiel like that, since they were technically in public, regardless of the fact that it was dangerous to treat any Alpha like that. So, yeah, he probably wouldn't be surprised if he got slapped, but... fuck it! Puppies weren't toys. When an Omega lost a puppy, she couldn't just get another one and be happy. Dean knew it didn't work that way, even though he had no experience with it. He just felt that way.
Angrily, he pushed the elevator button and, to his surprise, it immediately began to open. He tried to get in before the doors actually opened and bumped into a woman coming out.
" Damn... sorry," he apologized automatically, stepping back and then looking to see who he had actually bumped into.
It was probably a Beta or Omega with very strong blockers, because he couldn't smell anything on her except the scent of the freshly laundered clothes she was wearing. A pantsuit and a white shirt. Clothes that looked awfully familiar to him and to the woman herself.
He frowned and ran his eyes down her body from top to bottom.
She couldn't have been more than twenty, with straw-colored hair, blue eyes, round cheeks, white skin, and the expression of a frightened rope. He'd definitely seen her before, but where and when...
"I know you," it came out spontaneously.
"I don't think we know each other," the woman murmured as she quickly passed him. Her accent was subtle, but it was there, and Dean recognized it instantly. It was a Russian accent. It was a Russian accent. It clicked for him right then.
"You work as a waitress at Blue Sky! I guess that's how I know you. The club belongs to my Alpha..." He called after her.
The Beta turned sharply towards him, her startled expression replaced by a raw horror he'd only seen a few times before. He didn't understand why she was so afraid. Sure, yeah, he knew Castiel's men had an intimidating effect on the people in the Russian quarter. He'd seen it with his own eyes. But it wasn't the kind of terror that was on this woman's face.
Of course, his stupid Omega instincts, as well as his father's upbringing, must have kicked in, so he walked towards her, intent on helping her somehow.
"Hey, are you okay, ma'am?" he asked reassuringly.
The woman in front of him took a step back, and that's when Castiel appeared on the scene. He slipped into Dean's field of vision and stood directly behind the retreating Beta, who turned at almost the same moment, making it clear that she was about to run. Only Castiel was already in her path.
Beta froze, her head turned slightly so she could see the Alpha's eyes, and Castiel... Castiel's face slowly began to change into an expression Dean had never seen on him before. It was predatory, as he bared his fangs in a smile, but it wasn't playful predatory or fierce predatory. The expression and the look in his eyes, cold and blue as a frozen lake, reminded Dean that he'd once called him a murderous psychopath before meeting him.
Suddenly, barely able to blink, Castiel's hand lashed out like an attacking snake, grabbing Beta by the hair. The woman yelped, but her terrified scream was cut short as the Alpha brushed her off, choking her completely as he gripped her chin in a way that was painful even at first glance.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" Alpha drawled in a dangerously calm voice, full of contempt. "Then how did you get out, little dove?"
Beta didn't answer, just scowled, and it was obvious she was trying to escape, but Castiel dug his fingers deeper into her neck, twisting her head back at a painful angle.
"Stop making a scene and smile. There are cameras here, and no one wants the receptionist to call the cops. If that happens, I'll break your neck, throw you in the dumpster like trash, and send your eyes to your beloved daddy. Do we understand each other?"
Beta's agreement was no more than a whimper, but it was enough for Alpha. He pushed the woman toward the elevators, and with uncanny skill, he managed to flip from her neck to her elbow, which he gripped with an iron grip.
The woman looked up and locked eyes with Dean for a moment. She looked even more frightened than before, and tears, tinged with gray, began to roll down her cheeks.
"Get the elevator," Castiel ordered distantly, not even glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
Dean looked up at him from the tears pooling on the Beta's chin and opened his mouth to speak. The question of what Castiel was doing and something like a protest were on his tongue. He wanted to stop what Alpha was doing to the obviously defenseless woman, but only the smell of bitter almonds and the sight of Alpha's tense face stopped him.
He closed his mouth again and reached for the elevator button.
Meanwhile, someone was hailing a cab, but it wasn't going anywhere. There was an immediate rumble as it descended towards them, and Dean cast another glance at the woman. He should help her. He would help her. It wasn't just his stupid Omega instincts telling him that, but he would be able to ignore them just like he always had. His conscience and his upbringing told him that as well. Always help the helpless and never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. That's what his dad told him over and over again. But what was he supposed to do now? She was Castiel's employee…
No, she wasn't his employee. Nowhere in the civilized world did they treat "employees" like this. They didn't push them, shove them, scare them to death, or lock them up. Beta was not an employee. Beta was... she was one of Castiel's girls. She was a prostitute and a waitress all rolled into one, and she obviously wasn't here by choice. Of course he knew that such things existed and that pimps didn't treat their girls well, and he also knew that Castiel was exactly what he was; a criminal, a murderer, a hit man, a pimp, a dealer, and the leader of a criminal cartel. But knowing and hearing about it was different than seeing it with his own eyes.
The elevator jingled - Dean jerked at the sound - and the doors opened.
Alpha pushed Beta inside with such force that she stumbled and crashed into the back wall. It looked like he was going to slide down after her, but Castiel was on her first and grabbed her elbow again, keeping her on her feet.
"Blue Sky," he said simply.
Dean understood. He reached into his pocket for his card, then selected the second-to-last floor where the club was located. The elevator went up quickly. The numbers of each floor flashed rapidly until finally the number of the floor Blue Sky was on lit up and the doors opened again.
Alpha pushed the woman out into the hallway. She stumbled again, but this time, with no support in the form of a wall or anything else, she landed on all fours.
"Clumsy bitch," the Alpha spat contemptuously and grabbed the woman by the hair in one fell swoop.
Beta barely had time to get to her feet, so she stumbled after the Alpha, bent over, whimpering in pain and choking back tears, as he made his way to the club's door.
Dean stood between the elevator doors, not knowing what to do. His stomach clenched with fear, and at the same time, the urge to do something was still there, even though he knew he couldn't do anything. This... this was Castiel's job. This was part of Alpha's life, the life he seemed to love and that he had no intention of leaving, not even for Dean, his True Mate. And Dean... Dean didn't want to be a part of it. He wanted to return to the realistic peace and security of the apartment, but some unseen force prevented him from moving. All he could do was watch as the Alpha stopped at the door and then looked at him.
Their eyes met and Dean froze for a long moment before his primal instinct to submit overcame him, his Omega whimpered, and he lowered his eyes to the floor.
Those eyes, Castiel's eyes, weren't just cold. They were dead, devoid of any emotion. He looked much like Alastair had that day a few weeks ago, and the sight gave Dean goosebumps and an icy chill ran down his spine.
"Come here, Omega."
It was clearly a command, and there was an Alpha force in it that spurred Dean's feet before he realized he'd taken a step. He could have resisted, but honestly...? He was damn scared, and he knew not only instinctively but also rationally that the Alpha was far past the point of calm, and doing anything he didn't like would push him over the edge. And Dean didn't really want to see what Castiel looked like when he really lost it.
So he stood obediently by his side, and when the Alpha opened the door and pulled the Beta in, he did what he was sure he wanted to do and followed.
"Look what I found outside," Castiel said, almost throwing the Beta into the space between the bar and the large sofa. If Dean had been in her position, he would have gotten up immediately and turned to attack, but she stayed down. She just got up on her hands and knees, and for a moment it looked like she would at least try to crawl somewhere, but she just fell back onto the carpet and wrapped her arms around her stomach.
Dean took a step toward her, but stopped at the corner of the bar, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the huddled Beta and look at the faces of those in the club.
Balthazar was standing behind the bar, another Beta still at his side. He recognized her immediately, from her dark hair and eyes, her strikingly white skin, and her slender shoulders. She was the one he'd helped Castiel choose as the new waitress for Blue Sky, and now that he saw her, he realized that the blonde-haired Beta lying on the floor was the second 'waitress' he'd convinced Alpha to take. That meant he was the one who had brought her here. The realization was... strange. It was horrifying, but at the same time he somehow couldn't admit to himself that he might be responsible for her suffering.
There was a creak from the direction of the large seat that caught his attention. There was a creak from the direction of the large seat that caught his attention. A Beta male he didn't know was sitting there. He was definitely one of Alpha's guys, and not just because Castiel had dared to treat Beta like that in front of him, but also from his clothes, his face that looked like it had taken a few punches, and his tattooed forearms that were clearly visible because he had a striped short-sleeved shirt half buttoned up over his massive chest and large stomach.
"What the fuck...?" The man said in surprise as he stood up. "I thought that bitch was in the bathroom."
"She was down in the parking lot getting ready to run. She probably stole someone's card or found it while cleaning up, right, Dovey?" asked Castiel, grabbing her hair and lifting her head so he could look at her face.
Beta sobbed and closed her eyes.
"You seem to have no appreciation for my hospitality and all the privileges you have as a Blue Sky waiter," he boomed in a deep voice, all accent and gravel clinking in his glass. "Remember, we brought you here to spread your legs in one of our brothels for some fat American svin'ya who will pay for it. Instead, you're here," he gestured around him in an all-encompassing gesture. "You're comfortable, you wear nice clothes, and your customers are Alphas with refined tastes and manners. Anyone like you would kiss my hands for such an opportunity. Am I right, Crystal?" He turned to the other Beta in a conversational tone.
"Yes, Batyushka. I'm very happy here, and I'm grateful to you for taking me in," Crystal replied in a modestly polite tone, her head and eyes lowered.
"See? This is the gratitude and respect I deserve for all I give you," he spoke again to the woman he held at his feet, glancing obliquely in Dean's direction. The look sent a cold shiver down his spine. He knew he wasn't talking to Beta, but directly to him, and that it was a warning.
"And how did you repay me? Hm?" He murmured questioningly, his full attention now back on the woman, cupping her cheeks as before. "You chose to disregard my kindness and run away. Do you think I deserve such ingratitude? What? What do you have to say to me, little dove?"
"Mne zhal'! Mne zhal'! Pozhaluysta..." stammered Beta.
"Too little, too late," Alpha replied lazily, letting go of her face. "I think someone should remind you what you would be if I hadn't chosen you," he said with a kind of dark promise, straightening up and half lifting Beta off the ground by her hair. "Sasha... show her what a whore like her is good for," he ordered, throwing the woman into his man's arms.
He caught her and gripped her shoulders. The smile that appeared on his acne-scarred face was half amusement and half the grin that drunken Alphas had in bars when they grabbed Dean's ass or pressed themselves against him from behind, squeezing their hard cock through his pants as if he would enjoy it. It was the kind of smile that had warned him to run when he was thirteen or fourteen. And today, it made him want to pick up a knife and stab the point nicely into the ribs of the Knot in the side, just enough to feel it and not try anything more. It was a smile that didn't bode well, and Dean felt the urge to do something again, but he still didn't move. He just watched as Scarface threw the blonde face-first onto the table and grabbed her from behind, and while she sobbed and tried in vain to wriggle out from under his weight and free her wrists, which he held in an iron grip, he ground his Beta hand under her table-backed body and kneaded her cleavage. The blonde Beta shuddered again, but that didn't stop the buttons on her blouse from coming undone, or Alpha's man from forcibly ripping her large, soft breasts out of her bra.
This wasn't really happening, he thought. It couldn't be. Someone would say something, or Castiel would stop it. Yes, the Alpha would definitely stop his own man and tell him that this girl had been punished enough. It had to be...didn't it?
He tore his eyes away from the scene on the table and looked at the bar with some anticipation and a little hope. There was still a sliver of hope that Castiel wouldn't let this go any further, but the Alpha didn't look like he was going to say anything. In fact, he hardly cared what was going on. He walked over to the bar and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette. And Balthazar got an ashtray from under the bar for him, as if nothing interesting was going on around him. Not even the other waitress showed any sign of wanting to help. Instead, she set about stacking the washed glasses on the bar. Stacking the fucking dishes on the bar while a few feet away...
A sharp jolt of Beta arousal snapped his head back to what was going on. Bile gathered in his mouth.
The Beta woman wasn't even struggling anymore, just lying there, and with each rough thrust of the man who was abusing her, she let out only a grunt, muffled by her own forearm, which she buried her face in.
He couldn't help her, couldn't move, couldn't even watch.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to imagine that nothing was happening and that it wasn't his Alpha who had given the order. He couldn't. His nose was full of the stench of Beta arousal, which had finally begun to permeate with the smell of fear and pain. And his ears were constantly assaulted by the sounds of the creaking table, the painful heckling and the lustful grunts. Try as he might to squeeze his eyelids shut, he could still see the scene before him.
"You should be watching, Omega," a voice suddenly rang in his ear, and in addition to the puff of cigarette smoke, he felt warm breath and the smell of bitter almonds on his face.
He opened his eyes sharply and looked at Castiel, who was standing close beside him, looking at him in a way that made him feel defenseless, small and unloved under his gaze.
"You should watch and learn, because you could easily end up like that if you leave me. Because then you'll have nothing and the street corner will be the only place where you can make money."
The words, spoken with cold ruthlessness, stabbed him in the heart. He couldn't stay here. He damn well couldn't. He had to get out of here. He didn't care if Alpha liked it or what he had to say, he just had to go.
Luckily, he still had the card in his hand, so when he hit the door with his palm as he ran, all he had to do was wave it around the slot and the door would open. He smashed it open and ran out into the white corridor, down the damned endless hallway to the elevator. He desperately pushed the button again and again until the elevator doors finally opened. He squeezed through the small gap and pushed the button that closed the door behind him, then punched in the number of the garage floor.
He had to get out of here.
With a sigh, he leaned against the back wall and closed his eyes. This was a bad idea. A terribly bad idea. At the bottom of his eyelids, he immediately saw a jumble of the frightened face of the blonde Beta and the naked ass of Castiel's man. He quickly opened his eyes and saw the floor numbers light up.
He was already somewhere on the second floor... the ground floor... and finally one last floor and the doors opened to reveal a parking lot lit by white fluorescent lights overhead. The way out. All he had to do was run, but something was holding him back. An invisible force, perhaps his Omega and his instincts, and then a thought; what would he do without his Alpha? Could he really run? He was penniless, his prints and with them his face were in some damn registry, he had a collar around his neck, and he couldn't leave Sam behind. He couldn't even leave Castiel behind because... he needed him. God, fuck! He needed him. The thought of never seeing him again made his insides clench even more than the sight of the horror he'd seen in Blue Sky. He couldn't leave.
He couldn't.
Slowly, his hand steady on the wall, he walked over to the buttons, used the card, then pressed the top of the two unmarked buttons. He did it all on autopilot. He knew he was doing it, he could see he was doing it, but he wasn't sure if he was really doing it himself or if someone was guiding his hand.
The doors closed again with a soft thud and the elevator went up.
Dean took two blind steps backwards, his back hitting the back wall, and looked up at the illuminated floor numbers that led him upward, back to his Alpha's lair.
Chapter Text
A dim light came into the room through the window, allowing Dean to see only the blurred outline of the bed. But he had a phone in his hand, the screen of which at least illuminated the empty nightstand. All was quiet, the door to the room - the guest bedroom, not Sam's future room as he was bitterly aware - was closed and secured to prevent anyone from getting in. But it didn't matter, because as far as he knew, Alpha hadn't come home and Dean wasn't expecting him. It was only half past two in the morning. He was never home at that time. Still, he locked up. Just in case. He wasn't sure in what condition Castiel would come home and if he wanted a drink... He knew from their Alpha. When his dad was angry or unhappy for some reason and went out for a drink, he usually came back in an even worse mood than when he left, and while he'd never hurt Dean or Sam, he was capable of punching a hole in a wall or smashing some furniture with it. So he knew full well how bad it could get when the Alpha got angry and drunk, and that Castiel was angrier that afternoon than he had ever been before, he knew for a fact. He had done and said things that had hurt Dean in a sensitive place, and he had done it on purpose. He was sure of that. And he was equally sure that what he'd let Beta do was the same warning he'd given him when he'd killed the Alpha earlier and then sent him the pictures of the corpse stuffed with candy. Just a pure display of cruelty, of that dark and dangerous thing that always bubbled under the Alpha's calm exterior and that Dean found so strangely attractive. At other times... under other circumstances... but what happened today... what happened to that Beta woman... it just frightened and disgusted him and reminded him of all the times he'd been in her shoes. Defenseless and just waiting for someone to force a cock and a knot up his ass.
He dropped the phone to his chest, closed his eyes and touched the collar.
It wasn't like he'd ever had any illusions and thought Alpha was a good person. He'd known what he was from the beginning and expected the worst from him, and this was it. He expected terrible things, he expected Alpha to hurt him, but he didn't. He was much nicer, more caring and understanding than anyone would have expected from someone like Castiel, and Dean didn't understand... he didn't understand what had happened in the last few days to make Alpha change so much. Was it really just this stupid trip? Or were the problems in his 'job' more serious than he had said? Had Dean done something else wrong?
This was so shitty! The whole damn situation! And Castiel's goddamn behavior! His Omega curled up unhappily, pining for his alpha and his puppy, too, and Dean was... pissed. Pissed at Castiel, but also at himself, because he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all his fault, even though he knew it wasn't. Yeah, it was stupid to go out alone, but he'd gone out to make Castiel happy, and he'd gone out alone because he just couldn't control himself. Especially under the watchful eye of that damn French Beta. Yeah, he'd partially gotten used to the Alpha's men always on his heels, but he needed some space. A chance to do things his way, to have freedom. He needed that as much as he needed Sammy. Was that so hard to understand?
Sam was his brother, his own blood, taken care of by him since he was four. Literally changed his poopy diapers and taught him how to take his first steps. Couldn't Alpha really understand that he couldn't just forget him? After all, he had more than one brother himself. And when he saw Castiel with Gabriel... Both Alphas smelled happy. How could he not understand that Dean was happy with his own brother?
The ding of an incoming message interrupted his train of thought. He picked up his phone and opened a chat with Sam. The corners of his mouth immediately lifted in a smile.
Bitch: aren't you sleeping?
Dean: n
Bitch: neither
Bitch: tests tomorrow
Bitch: nervous
Dean: you'll be fine
Dean: you're a genius
Dean: and if you fuck up school you can still work like a flagpole
Bitch: 🖕
Bitch: why don't you sleep jerk?
He paused. Of course he couldn't tell Sammy anything about what had happened lately. He couldn't make him worry.
Dean: I don't know.
Dean: 2 much coffee and cherry cokes
Dean: everything's fine
The three commas started as Little Alpha signed off, but then they disappeared and for a moment it looked like he wasn't going to sign off when suddenly his cell phone rang and a video chat prompt appeared on the screen. He quickly put on a smile and tapped the green button,
Sammy's face popped up on the screen, framed by the light from the phone illuminating the cushion of tiny motorcycles and cars. The Betas Little Alpha had been with had given him such slightly childish things as a sheet with pictures on it, a towel with Avangers on it, or sneakers with wheels on them. Sammy said it was too old, but he didn't want to hurt Farah's feelings and refuse. But Dean knew that Little Alpha was secretly enjoying it, knowing full well that his old pajamas with the Batman emblem on them that were already short sleeved were his favorite outfit.
"What are you doing, moron? If they catch you video chatting in the middle of the night, they'll confiscate your phone and ground you. Especially if they find out you called me."
"Don't worry. It's okay."
"Yeah? I don't think so," he replied with a raised eyebrow. "They don't like me very much."
"Yeah, well, they say you're a bad influence and all that, but that's bullshit," Sam replied, then frowned and looked at Dean searchingly. "You okay, Dean?" He asked in that uncomfortably adult way he knew how to speak, which this time was accentuated by the fact that his whispered voice was surprisingly gruff.
He hadn't really noticed it when he saw Sam every day, but now that he saw him maybe once every two or three days, and usually only for half an hour or so, he could see that he had changed in just a few weeks. He didn't know how the hell that was possible, but it was. The Little Alpha seemed to have sharper features, and his voice jumped more and more from the soft one he was used to to a kind of rough squeak and then back again. And the growl... that changed the most. Not only did Sam growl much more often than before, and for much less serious reasons, but more importantly, his attempts at growling, which had been rather ridiculous, had turned into actual Alpha growls.
Sammy was growing up, there was no other way to describe it, and he was growing up damn fast, and Dean couldn't even be there. At this rate, in a few months he would be a pudgy, unkempt, obnoxious teenager instead of the puppy he knew. The realization made his heart sting with regret.
"Yeah, all good."
"Home alone again?"
"You can see that, can't you?"
"He shouldn't have left you alone. Omegas don't thrive on loneliness," Sam said insightfully.
Dean just rolled his eyes.
"Take that shit and shove it up your ass. You make it sound like Omegas are some poor little things that need to be taken care of. Where's your talk of equality? Huh?"
Sam frowned, bared his teeth a little, and let out an angry growl.
"Equality isn't about ignoring someone's biological needs, you know? Equality is about making sure that everyone gets an equal chance to succeed and live the way they want to, and that the needs of all subgenders are respected."
"Yeah, yeah... I get it. Let it go."
"I can't let it go. You can't live like this," he kept insisting.
"I have a great life! Have you forgotten what this lair looks like? I have everything I could want and I'm happy with Alpha. You don't have to worry," he assured him firmly, so firmly that he was sure Sam couldn't tell that he was lying.
"Alpha...?" Sam said half questioningly, but also significantly; Dean frowned in confusion, not knowing what his brother was implying. "A while ago you stopped calling him 'Alpha' and started calling him 'Cas' and now suddenly he's Alpha again?"
Damn it! He hadn't even noticed that he had called Castiel Alpha again, even though he had almost gotten used to not calling him that. But of course Sam had noticed, because Sam was a smart and observant puppy, and he hadn't missed even that little detail.
"He's my Alpha." He shrugged as casually as he could.
The little Alpha grunted disapprovingly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"You're not telling me everything, Dee. Something happened and I want to know about it. If he hurt you...!" He let out a lost sound, or rather a real growl. Seriously, fuck it. As if he didn't have enough angry Alphas today to last a lifetime. He didn't need Sam to get pissed off, too.
"We just had a fight. That's all," he said conciliatorily.
"Did he hit you again?" Sammy grumbled through bared teeth.
"No, he didn't and he doesn't do anything like that. I already explained why he had to do it."
"Bullshit!"
"Look... I'm not going to argue with you about this. There's nothing going on. Everything is great. Unicorns and rainbows and shit. How about we go to sleep, huh? You need to be fit for tomorrow's test..."
"You're just trying to book it."
"Yeah, I'm trying because I want to throw my face into the pillow and sleep."
"You didn't want to sleep a minute ago."
"Now I do. Go to sleep, I'm going. Good night..."
"Dean...!"
"I'll call you tomorrow." He ended the call, and before Sam could call him back, he simply muted all calls and chats on the app, then threw his phone on the sadly empty bed next to him. He fell limp and stayed where Castiel had slept when they were together in the other bedroom. This was where Alpha was strange. He could lie anywhere, but he really only wanted to sleep on the side closer to the closet and the bathroom. Alpha had told him, stone-faced, that he wanted to sleep there to be closer to the bathroom, since he had to go a lot at his age. One of his ridiculous and slightly inappropriate jokes, but it still made Dean laugh, mostly because he knew why Castiel really wanted to sleep there; it was closer to the closet where the guns were. Dean understood and put his own gun on the nightstand. He suspected that Castiel knew about it, but he didn't say anything.
It was ridiculous that it seemed like forever since they'd been this cool. It was the night before they left for school.
He turned his head away from the empty bed and looked up at the ceiling. It was best if he didn't think about it and tried to sleep. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.
°°0°°
"...And then she ran away," Vadim finished the rambling story about the Russian version of Doctor Sexy, which was called the Doctor of Broken Hearts, or at least that's how Jacob translated it into English, and paused.
Dean looked up distractedly from his phone, where he was checking for a message from Sam. If he hadn't seen that Little Alpha was online, he would have been worried that he hadn't responded to his morning greeting; this way he was more annoyed. He shouldn't have cut it off like that yesterday, but the little obnoxious teenage bitch didn't need to get offended right away either.
" Um... what did you say?" He asked, looking around. They were already on the school grounds, just outside the gates, waiting for the deputy principal to come get Dean. Vadim stood by his side, holding an umbrella over him, while he huddled in his down jacket, protecting himself from the rain with only the hood. And he didn't mind getting wet at all, nor did he mind that everyone who had run out of the rain to the entrance had turned to look at them.
"You okay, brat?" The thin, pale Beta asked worriedly, as if he didn't need a few hours in the sun and a proper meal himself. Oh hell, damn Omega instincts.
"Yeah, all right. I was just thinking."
"Khoroshiy," Beta replied, looking like he was about to say something, but by then Deputy Principal Parker had emerged from the building and was clapping his umbrella in their direction.
Not only was Vadim waiting for the deputy to take it, but Dean could still see him standing a short distance from the gate, picking up his bag after passing through the scanning gate. He did his job dutifully, unlike Parker, who said goodbye to him just outside the gate and let him get on with his business.
He went up to the floor where he had his first class, but he didn't go to class, he went to the bathroom. He didn't feel like studying, and since he had to be at school - as if he could do anything else when he was being carried around like an incompetent... which he was anyway - he would at least crawl into the toilet and smoke some weed. All he had to do was ask the guys if they had any and Vadim would offer him a whole bag.
"... don't do that! Let me go!" Came the cry from behind the door of the bathroom he was heading for. It was a familiar voice. Kevin's voice.
Damn job! Didn't the idiots of this school understand yet that Kevin was his owne and not to be touched? Yeah, they probably thought that since Dean hadn't been here for a while, that didn't apply anymore. I guess it's going to take a few kicks in their poor, knotted asses to finally get it.
He pushed open the door to the bathroom, took a quick look around and took a deep breath, tasting the air that smelled of a scared and slightly angry Omega.
Sure enough, Kevin was there and his bag was on the floor and all the stuff had been emptied out. So nothing unusual. Seriously, the school bullies and knotheads thought that spilling someone's bag or tearing up an essay was awfully imaginative, funny and all that.
What was surprising, however, was that Kevin was being held by one of Forest's henchmen, while the other stood beside him, scissors in hand, and from what Dean could see, managed to cut off half of Omega's head. The Knot was nowhere in sight.
"You two again?" He asked conversationally, not only slamming the door behind him, but blindly turning the knob that the cleaning lady usually used to keep people out of the bathroom when she was cleaning. And then, of course, assholes like Forest and his crew when they wanted to beat someone up inside. And that's what it was all about. Dean had no intention of making out with them again.
"You really don't give a shit, do you?" he asked through bared teeth, absolutely certain that his eyes had just turned amber. "I'd say it's time to teach you a proper lesson. Too bad the third clown isn't here. Where is he, eh? Is he having a cold or sitting at home polishing his stick?" He continued mockingly as he walked towards them, dropping his bag on the way.
The two Betas - he mentally called them Crabble and Goyle because he couldn't remember their real names for the life of him - stopped caring about Kevin and both walked towards Dean with scornful grins, as if they thought nothing could happen to them.
"You're pretty cheeky for an Omega. We're going to do Marcus a favor and finally straighten you out," said one of the Betas, the one Dean decided to call Crabble because he looked a little smarter than the others.
"Yeah, we'll get even," Goyle agreed dully, which only confirmed his nickname.
Dean just rolled his eyes. Yeah, he knew that. Usually, all you had to do was hit a guy like that in the liver or kidney and he'd go down.
"Yeah, right..." he snorted derisively, then got a little more serious. "So look, guys... I haven't had a very good few days, and I'm really not in the mood for assholes like you two. So I'm going to give you one last chance to get out of here and leave Kevin alone for good. What do you say?"
It was clear from the stubborn expressions on both of their faces that they weren't going to take their last chance to avoid getting their asses kicked.
"Your choice," he said with a shrug into a relaxed fighting stance.
He knew he had to be careful not to hurt them. Just a little slap. Enough to make them ashamed to say he kicked Omega, but not so much that they needed treatment or it showed. That meant no punches in the face.
The dumber of the two Betas lunged at him. It looked like he just wanted to grab his arms. He didn't even try to use his fists. It was childishly easy to deflect his grabbing hands and bend him like a blade of grass with a well-placed punch to the stomach. Then he took advantage of his vulnerable position and with a light kick to the hands wrapped around his stomach, sent him flying against the back wall of the room. Beta hit it and rolled down. He lay there, clutching his stomach and whimpering.
This was frustratingly easy. For a basketball player, Goyle was supposed to have played and coached sports, and he was as frail as a daisy.
Crabble looked like a slightly better opponent as he got into a decent fighting stance and swung his fist. Still, there was no avoiding his fist, so he grabbed his forearm and used his own momentum to slam his stomach against the sink. He twisted one arm behind his back and calmly let the other go, knowing that Beta would only clamp it into the forearm of the hand Dean had wrapped around his neck.
He looked at his reflection first, and just as he thought, his eyes were a light amber brown, almost golden. Then he looked through the mirror into Beta's eyes, which were angry and defiant, but also had a hint of fear in them. He hadn't expected such a skillful defense from anyone, let alone an Omega, and he certainly hadn't expected an Omega to be as strong as Dean.
He tilted his head to the side and inhaled Beta's scent. He smelled like cookies, surprisingly sweet for a Beta and very faint, but he could still smell the sour fear in his scent underneath the bitter anger. Dean's Omega hummed with satisfaction. This Beta was hurting the puppy and he deserved what he was about to get.
Dean looked at him again and smiled.
"You want to see members of the Special Forces killed?" He asked in a conversational tone of voice.
"You won't do anything to me!" Beta shouted.
Dean just chuckled.
"I knew you'd be interested," he replied cheerfully. "Well, first he's going to knock the enemy down..." he began casually and at the same moment he tripped Crabble's leg with a kick. But he didn't let him hit the ground in pain, he could have banged his head against it, and he didn't really want to. On the contrary, he'd held the back of his head the whole time, so that when Beta was on the ground, he was in the perfect position to squat on his chest with his knee. "Then they'll immobilize him," he went on, moving his newly free hand under Beta's chin and the other on top of his head, "that way they'll grab his head and lift his chin, and then all they have to do is... yank!"
He turned Crabble's head to the side.
The Beta let out a low yelp and Dean felt his heart leap and race at double speed under the wheel. And a hint of raw fear lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile.
"So that's how you do it. Cool, don't you think?" He asked cheerfully, letting go of Beta's face and patting his pale and suddenly slightly sweaty cheek. Then, as he stood up, he took real pleasure in the fact that Crabble quickly crawled back to the stalls and began furiously feeling his neck, as if to make sure it wasn't broken. Idiot. Yes, he could actually break his neck, but he'd have to lift his chin all the way up and jerk much harder than he was doing. This way, at most, his neck and shoulders would be sore for a few days from the pulled muscles.
Crabble finally looked up at him, his anger overpowering his fear again, but still he made no attempt to attack again. He just picked himself up along the wall he was also clinging to, to be as far away from Dean as possible, and spat in his direction:
"You're a goddamn psycho!" Then he turned to his friend, who had managed to collect himself after taking a fist to the stomach. "Come on! Let's get out of here!" He didn't wait to see if Goyle would follow, he just started for the door, grabbing his discarded bag on the way. The other Beta was on his heels. The first Beta quickly picked the lock. Then the door swung out and back in and the two pathetic losers were gone. At that moment Dean turned to the so far forgotten Kevin. He found the other Omega hiding in the small space between the row of sinks and the back wall with the window.
"It's all right now, Kev. You can come out."
The other Omega frowned and climbed out from behind the sinks, only to immediately turn to the mirror and look at his hair.
He wore his hair down to his shoulders, it was thick and wavy. Nice, like an Omega should have, and someone, probably his mom, took care of it. At least that's how it had been here yesterday when Dean had seen him getting into his mom's car. Now he was half gone. His hair was crooked and jagged. And he looked a little ridiculous.
"Good?" He asked, walking over to the sink.
"I look terrible," the little Omega sighed.
Dean couldn't argue with that, but a simple solution immediately popped into his head.
"Hey, it's no big deal. We'll fix it," he assured him, looking around to see where the scissors the two idiots had used to cut his hair had fallen.
The first thing he noticed were the two boxes of hair bleach. The regular kind from the drugstore. How old were the two assholes anyway, because... seriously? Is cutting and bleaching someone's hair supposed to be funny or entertaining? Dean loved a prank as much as the next guy, in fact, he and Sam had had a few prank wars, but dragging someone into the school bathroom, cutting their hair and bleaching it blonde was far from funny. It was just bloody bullying and nothing else.
He left the dye and looked a little further down the hall where the scissors were on the sink. He grabbed them and turned towards Kevin.
The other Omega immediately took a defensive stance, watching the scissors warily. And his scent took on a bitter note that raised Dean's eyebrows and elicited a mixture of disbelieving grunts and reassuring growls from his throat.
"Take it easy, buddy, okay?" he said, raising both hands so Kevin could see them. "I just want to fix your hair. Cut it nice and short all over and straighten it. There's nothing else we can do."
"My mom won't like it if I come home with a short haircut."
"And she'll be happy if you come home with half your head cut off?" He asked in return, then took a diplomatic tone. "I understand that your Alpha won't be happy if you do something she doesn't approve of, but look at it this way... if we don't do it, you'll have to tell her what happened to you and who did it. Is that what you want?"
"No," was Kevin's immediate response, followed by a resigned grunt; a weak one, more like a purr, and then Omega turned to face the mirror. "Okay. Get on with it. If you can even do that..."
"Easy. I've been cutting my brother's hair since I was a kid," Dean reassured him, stepping up to him.
"Yeah, that calmed me down a lot," Kevin checked sarcastically, scowling at him through his reflection but not trying to pull away or otherwise interrupt his haircut, so Dean got to work.
It wasn't as easy as Sam's. Kevin's hair was surprisingly stiff and thick, so a couple of times he accidentally cut it where he didn't want it, and had to realign the whole haircut to a shorter length. But finally Dean managed to finish the haircut and... Kevin was a totally different person! Suddenly he didn't look so doll-like anymore. It accentuated his chin and cheekbones. In fact... he looked as masculine as an Omega of his age and proportions could look.
"Hey! You look really good, buddy. I did a great job," he complimented as he brushed the hair from Kevin's shoulders.
The other Omega cocked his head from side to side, watching in disbelief. His scent grew fainter with each new angle reflected in the mirror, until finally a contented growl escaped Kevin's throat.
"I don't look like a girl anymore," he said excitedly, turning to Dean.
"Yeah. And if you can get rid of those sweaters..." he suggested, tugging at the ridiculous sweater Kevin was wearing.
At that moment, a ringing sound came from the hallway. It was only the first one that rang five minutes before the bell announced the start of first period, but if they wanted to get to class on time, they had to hurry.
"It's ringing. We have to go," Kevin began, almost panicking, and was already grabbing his bag.
Dean was on the verge of telling Kevin to go alone, to skip first class, but then it occurred to him that everyone else would probably notice Kevin's new haircut - from shoulder-length to a short, almost military cut was a big change - and knowing Omega's nature, it might upset Kevin that people were paying so much attention to him. It would be better if he went along, so he quietly nipped at his heels.
They walked out together and hadn't taken five steps down the crowded hallway before little Omega stopped.
"Isn't that your brother over there?" he asked, nodding his chin somewhere in the crowd. "I thought he didn't come to our school anymore."
Dean frowned and looked in the direction Kevin was pointing.
No, of course Sammy didn't go to this school. From what he'd heard, he went to a slightly better, but still public school. After all, a little better chance to really educate himself, to soak up information the way the little Alpha wanted and needed it, so even if he wanted him back, he had nothing against the school he was going to now. Either way, Sam had no business being here, and yet... yeah, hell yeah! He stood hidden in an alcove next to the door of the room with all sorts of hardware for the school's closed computer network, and by the way he was staring in Dean's direction, he was trying to subtly draw attention to himself.
"Go to class alone, Kev," he said half-mouthed and started walking in Sam's direction, but when he was about two steps away from Omega, he stopped and turned around. "And don't tell anyone you saw Sam here, okay?"
"Sure, I won't say anything," Kevin agreed immediately.
That was enough for Dean.
He quickly crossed the hall and slipped into the alcove next to his brother. His scent, a mixture of sandalwood and olive oil, immediately filled his nose and all he could do was grab the back of his pup's head and pull him close. Sammy didn't offer the slightest resistance, wrapping his arms around his back and burying his head in the crook of his neck. Right into his scent gland. Dean did the same. They lapped up each other's scents in mouthfuls, Dean's Omega growling excitedly and chanting, 'Puppy... my puppy... my puppy'. He was in over his head. It almost made his world spin and brought tears to his eyes. He had never been away from Sammy for so long. Never. Three or four days at most, when his dad had taken him on the hunt for their mum's killer. He'd thought seeing his brother on video chat was enough, but now he realized that it wasn't nearly enough.
He reluctantly pulled away, but didn't take his hand off the back of Sammy's head. He held it there firmly but gently, feeling that if he let go, his brother would disappear.
He gave him a quick, appraising look. Not only had Little Alpha grown in those few weeks, his features had become sharper - just as he'd seen in the videos - and he'd put on a little weight at the same time. You could definitely see that he was well fed and not missing anything. His clothes were new, smelling of neutral detergent suitable for Alphas and Omegas, and he had a new bag and shoes. He looked good and it was clear that he was well taken care of.
"Sammy..."
"Dee..." Sam replied with a possessive growl, gripping Dean's shoulders tightly.
That was about the moment when the initial excitement of the reunion faded and was replaced by...
"What are you doing here? Did you run away?!" He asked, not holding back his anger. If Sam had run away, this could be a big mess. Wait, what if, it was clear that he had run away. This family of his didn't want them to interact in person and just suffered while they chatted and video chatted. And that's probably only because they couldn't stop him from chatting because they couldn't just confiscate his cell phone. I mean, of course they could, but they wouldn't be that cruel.
"Yeah, I ran away and got this..." He fished his phone out of his pocket, looked something up on it, and then showed it to Dean. "Two bus tickets to Philly. I stole Farah's credit card and bought them, and I think we can use it to buy some supplies or more tickets. I also stole a few things we can sell," he added, tapping his bag, which this time wasn't full of textbooks, notebooks, and projects. "Do you have any money?"
He had the damn Platinum card and two hundred bucks. He'd found both on the kitchen table this morning. Alpha must have come back sometime during the night, left them on his desk, and then left again, because when Dean woke up in the morning, he was alone in the apartment again. So yeah, you could tell they had a lot of money on them. Alpha's card had an even higher no-pin limit than the one Sam had brought. He could buy everything they needed, maybe even stuff for camping - hiding out in the real wilderness was a good way to escape the Bratva - and be out of town before anyone noticed, but... there was a big BUT.
Dean... Dean didn't want to leave.
Just the thought made him feel a twinge of fear, and he remembered very clearly, he didn't even know why, Sun Hill. Probably because this damn shelter was where they had put him when he had been separated from his Alpha. And because his Omega, who had loudly protested the idea of being separated from his Alpha again, was not the rational part of him, he didn't understand that leaving Castiel would not mean going back to Sun Hill. It was stupid, he knew, but he just...he couldn't leave, and he didn't know how to explain it to Sam. But he certainly couldn't do it here in the hallway.
He quickly glanced outside to see the clock hanging on the wall. There were still a few minutes until class and the hallway was half full. But they had to find a place to talk in time.
His first thought was the utility room they were standing next to, but a quick push of the doorknob confirmed that it was locked, just as she thought. The only option was the bathroom.
"Let's go," he said, giving Sam a little nudge on the shoulder to show him the way.
He crossed the hall and slipped into the bathroom. The little Alpha followed him, of course, and followed him as Dean headed for the back stall that was handicapped accessible. It was the biggest and the best place to hide. He opened it and motioned Sam inside.
When they were both safely hidden, he locked the door behind them and turned to Alpha, who was standing next to the toilet bowl, hunched over to hide his height, his hair falling into his face and frowning.
"What the hell possessed you to rob your foster parents and come here?"
"I got tired of watching you get worse and worse. I'm your Alpha, I decided to act like one and start making my own decisions," Sammy replied, straightening up and lifting his chin in a pose.
Of course, that didn't intimidate Dean, and even his Alpha's scent, suddenly strong and dominant, couldn't make him back down or submit. This was about his little brother, damn it. He wasn't even a real Alpha. It was a puppy he'd wiped his shitty ass when he was little. He wasn't going to bow down to someone like that.
"Fuck you, Sam. Seriously, fuck you!" He snarled through bared teeth. "Who do you think you are? You waltz in here with no warning, bag full of loot, and you think what? That because you're an Alpha, I'll shit in a cube and leave with you just because you want me to?"
The bitterness of the tainted olive oil began to roll off the little Alpha in waves, along with the way he shifted and hunched a bit into a fighting stance. Not that it intimidated Dean in any way, but... what the hell? Since when had Sammy been so quick to lose his temper and act like... a Knotty?
"I'm your Alpha. I have to take care of you!"
"Right... Alpha..." he grinned. "You're a twelve year old stupid puppy and I'm your big brother. I'm the one who takes care of you, so this is how it's going to be now... I'm going to take you to your school, and you're going to stay there, and you're going to stay with your foster parents. And I'm going back to my Alpha where I belong."
"No!"
"Oh yes, that's how it will be," he said firmly, puffing out his chest to show how serious he was. Other times it always worked. Sam submitted every time. He realized that Dean was the dominant one. The one who made the decisions. But not this time. This time, the Little Alpha gave no sign of backing down, instead he took a step forward, revealing saliva-soaked teeth and eyes that began to bleed red.
Dean was taken aback by his reaction. This wasn't childish rage. Sam didn't smell like an angry puppy, he smelled like an angry Alpha. The growl he made, his posture, his scent, it all screamed Alpha and even if it didn't make Dean feel the need to submit, after all Sam was still his puppy and would never stop being one, he felt a certain kind of respect. No, it wasn't respect as such, it was more the realization that he was no longer facing a little boy who was afraid of clowns and closets. He was facing an angry Alpha, and as the growl grew louder, it became clearer just how serious he was.
And as experience, common knowledge and instinct had taught him, it was not good to irritate an angry Alpha.
"Take it easy, Sam, okay? Relax... let's talk about this," he asked in a conciliatory tone, lowering his head a little, trying to tame himself so that his scent was more soothing than irritating. "We can't just pick up and run. These things have to be planned. We have to have enough money, know where we're going, how we're going to make money. Not to mention..." here he paused, considering whether to tell the truth and finally deciding that he couldn't lie to his brother and promise something he couldn't keep. Or keep something from him. He'd seen how well that worked with his Alpha and what had happened yesterday. "I don't want to leave Castiel. He's my Alpha, and I want to stay with him."
He hadn't expected his brother to be happy to hear that, but he hadn't expected how he would react. The whiff of the foul smell of bitter, tainted oil was so strong it hit him in the face like a slap, Sam's eyes turned red, and the constant, angry growl suddenly erupted into a roar that seemed to shatter every molecule of air between them, turning into something solid that slammed into Dean's stomach. He could feel the sound in his gut, his Omega could feel it too, and she recoiled in disgust while Dean froze in utter shock.
The Alpha roared.
Dean knew that their Alpha was capable of it, but he never thought that Sammy... Suddenly, he remembered Castiel's words from yesterday. How he had said that Sam was growing into a strong and dominant Alpha and that they wouldn't get along under the same roof. He hadn't believed it. He'd thought Castiel was just looking for an excuse not to try to take Sam into his (and Dean's) care somehow, but now, looking at the rapidly panting Alpha pup and still feeling the fading effects of the roar on his skin... Goosebumps and a subtle tingling... Castiel and Sam didn't like each other, and if Sammy tried that on Castiel... not just after yesterday, he was sure his Alpha wouldn't let it go. Maybe... maybe it wasn't a good idea for Sam to go back to him after all. Maybe he really should stay with his foster family, away from Castiel and the Bratva. Wasn't that what he wanted for him? A normal life, security, a chance to go to college and be who he wanted to be. That's what he'd been trying to do all along. And it was selfish to take Sam in and deny him those opportunities.
Suddenly he understood, but how could he get Sammy to understand?
"Dee..." came out of the little Alpha's mouth shakily. His eyes were back to normal, and even though his breathing was intermittent and therefore a bit ragged, the sounds he made had nothing to do with growling. "I... I... I don't know what..." he stammered in confusion, his face turning pale as the bitterness in his scent was quickly replaced by sour fear.
"Hey, it's okay, buddy. It's nothing..." he quickly reassured him and was at his side in a heartbeat, pulling him into his arms. "It's okay, puppy." He nuzzled Sam's cheek into the crook of his neck, right against his scent gland, and let him breathe in his sweet, soothing Omega scent. The little Alpha dug his fingers into his back and buried his nose deeper, inhaling. Long, intermittent and desperate breaths, just like when he was little and woke up from a nightmare or was startled by an unfamiliar movement outside the window.
It took some time for the tension to leave Sam's body and for his scent to settle. Then Alpha lifted his head and looked at Dean.
"I didn't mean to... I don't know... Are you okay?"
"Of course I am. A grumpy little brother can't scare me," he shrugged off his worries and ruffled his hair.
"I don't know where that came from, Dean," Little Alpha said desperately, his eyes watering. "It's always like that now. I'm still so angry, and I... I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be that Alpha. I'm afraid of hurting someone. Like the people I live with. They're just Betu. I need to get away from them and you need to get away from this Alpha..." his voice broke into sobs and tears welled up in his eyes.
At that moment, Sam violently pulled out of Dean's embrace and turned his back to hide his crying. As if Dean had never seen him cry before. Sure, it wasn't like he cried often, because Sammy was resilient and didn't cry even when he was really little, but on the few occasions he did, it was always Dean who was there. Never their Alpha dad, because he wouldn't dare show weakness in front of either of them. Anyway, whenever Sam cried before, Dean knew what to do and how to comfort him, but this time he didn't. He understood what it was like to feel anger, but he wasn't stupid to think that it was the same for him as it was for any Alpha. Alphas were like that. They got angry easily. It was in their nature. In their genes. It was just a matter of learning to control and suppress their anger. And that was something only another Alpha could help an Alpha with, not an Omega like Dean, and it would be naive to think it would be any different in their case.
In a difficult time, Sam needed his dad, but he was in jail and it didn't look like he was getting out anytime soon. There was Uncle Bobby, but he was too far away, and even if he talked to Sam, at least on the phone, they would have to tell him what had happened, and that just wasn't an option. There was Castiel, of course, but taking his brother to his Alpha was a very bad idea, and even though Dean realized he was the King of Bad ideas, even he wasn't that stupid. There was one option, though... one person Sammy could talk to about his Alpha and who might even be able to convince him that it would be best if he stayed with his foster parents.
"Okay, Sammy... I'm not going to force you to go back to your foster parents right away. Let's skip school today and spend the day together, okay? And we'll talk about what to do."
Sama turned around, their eyes met and the little Alpha finally nodded in agreement.
Chapter Text
Getting out of the school undetected and then past Castiel's men wasn't really that hard. It always was. Regardless of security measures, some way out was always found, and if it wasn't, the students made it. Then they just took a detour around the block to avoid the scratched Toyota parked across the street from the school entrance, and that was it.
On the way, he texted Sonny and told him he had a problem and if they could meet. Alpha directed him to the hardware store where he worked. Finding the right bus was easy and getting the navigation to lead him to the entrance was easy too, so there they were, standing in front of the door of the hardware store, Dean trying to peek in through the window and find Sonny.
"Why are we here?" Sammy asked.
"There's a...friend of mine who works here," he said vaguely, frowning. He hoped they wouldn't have to go in, but it seemed they had no choice. "Come on," he urged his brother, opening the door.
He made his way to the counter where the woman was restocking nails. At first glance, he guessed she was Beta. She was as tall as Dean, muscular, but with a round belly sticking out over the waistband of her pants, and thanks to her short haircut, she could easily be mistaken for a man if she didn't also have boobs and wore makeup.
"Um, hello... ma'am," he addressed her.
The saleswoman gave him a look over her shoulder, then gave Sam the same look.
"Hello," she said in a gruff, almost smoky and boozy voice, then turned her head and her eyes to the bowels of the store and called out: "Sonny! You got two of your boys here!"
A moment later, Sonny emerged from behind one of the shelves. Dean gave him a quick look, then turned to Sammy.
"Wait here a minute, yeah..."
He said nothing more and quickly made his way over to the Alpha. When he was close enough, he caught a whiff of the Alpha's protective scent flowing in unison with Sonny's pleasant scent of hibiscus and tea. Despite his usual resolutions not to submit to Alphas, he bowed his head and gave Sonny the proper respect, which the Alpha acknowledged with an approving purr that turned into words:
"Dean... good to see you," he said and offered Dean his hand.
He took it and squeezed it.
"Yeah, me too. Mind if I come?"
"No, Dean. I said I'm here for you if you have a problem," the Alpha assured him, letting go of his hand as his eyes wandered over Dean's shoulder. "So... what happened?"
"Yeah... well, before I tell you, you have to promise not to call social services or the police... I mean, nothing happened that can't be easily fixed, but if you get the authorities involved..."
"I can't promise you that. But I can promise you that if you're telling the truth and the problem can be solved other than with the authorities and no one gets hurt... then yes, we can solve it without social services and the police."
Dean frowned slightly. It wasn't exactly the promise he had hoped for, but then again, Sammy hadn't really done anything that couldn't be solved by simply returning things and money, had he?
"It's about Sammy. He ran away from his foster home. He also stole some stuff from them and bought two tickets to Philly with their money... but that's not the problem. He hasn't sold the stuff yet, and I'm going to give them their ticket money back... the point is... " He paused, looking over his shoulder at his brother, who was standing near the door, frowning as he watched him talk to the adult Alpha. "He doesn't want to go back there, and not just because he'd rather be with me, but... he..." He rubbed his neck. This was a hell of a thing. "He hasn't been the same lately, okay? I thought it was Dad leaving and Castiel and all the problems with Social Services and Sun Hill, but it's more than that. He's starting to act like an Alpha. He's growling, he's ordering me around, he's defying me all the time... Shit, he just roared at me an hour ago, and I mean a real Alpha roar. He didn't even want to do it and it didn't affect me anyway... I don't even know why..." He paused again. Technically, an Alpha roar should scare anyone, even a Beta, but it hardly affected him.
"It's because he's your puppy," he answered the half-unspoken question; Dean gave him a confused look. "You've been taking care of your brother since he was six months old. The bond between you is not only brotherly, it's also the bond between Omega and his pup. In a way, you're his parent to Sammy, and that's why you're unaffected by his anger and roar. Alpha dominance never works with Omega's own parents. Can you imagine what would happen if it did? Eventually, the puppies could dominate their own Omega parent, and that would be completely contrary to the job that nature has given to parents; to educate and raise their offspring."
"Yeah, that makes sense..." he nodded. "Anyway, Sammy doesn't want to go back to his foster parents because he's afraid he'll do something to them in anger. I don't think that can happen. He's not... he's never been angry or aggressive. He's always been kind of quiet, a little curmudgeonly, but he's a good boy. And I don't know how to help him. I guess you couldn't take him in, could you?" He asked, a little hopefully, but more just to be sure. These things just didn't work that way, you could decide where and with whom you wanted to be.
"It wouldn't be that easy," Sonny replied with a slight shake of his head. "The foster parents who have custody of your brother now would have to give him up or have him taken away from them first, and then I could apply for him, but first I would have to take a class. Every properly registered foster parent has to take a course for each subgender. But... I could try to talk to him. I might have some advice for him on how to deal with his Alpha."
"Yeah, I was hoping you could do something like that," he nodded; he hadn't even expected Sonny to keep Sam with him today and a conversation was the best he could hope for. "Because I can't help him, Alpha. I may not be the usual Omega, but I'm no Alpha either. I... I don't understand all the territorial bullshit and aggression that Alphas have in them."
Much to his own annoyance, he could feel the air around him filling with the scent of desperate Omegas with every word he spoke, and it was obvious that Sonny was quickly catching on, for he lowered his head, his wave fading, and finally raised his hand to place it on Dean's upper arm.
"We'll go over to our place and I'll talk to your brother, but... you understand you can't leave and you have to give back the things Sam took today, right?"
"Yeah, absolutely clear, and Sam understands that too."
"Good. Come on," he urged, stepping toward Sam, his arm slipping around Dean's shoulders.
The soothing scent of hibiscus tea surrounded him. It wasn't intoxicating like Castiel's scent, or as familiar and beloved as his dad's, but it was cool enough that he didn't tense under Sonny's touch. In fact, he consciously relaxed even more to let the little Alpha know that he really did trust this adult Alpha. Even though Sam watched them cautiously as they walked toward him and straightened as soon as they were in front of him, his chin raised in a pose but not growling, his lips didn't quiver as if he was suppressing the urge to show his fangs, and except for a certain wariness, the scent of sandalwood and olives was calm.
"Sam, this is the Alpha I stayed with for a while, if you remember," he introduced the Alpha at his side. Sonny slowly removed his hand from his shoulders and took a step forward, his head held high and his eyes locked with Sam's. He stood facing Sammy. They measured each other for a moment, completely silent, neither willing to lower their gaze, until Sam finally broke eye contact only briefly, letting his shoulders slump and puffing out his chest. He acknowledged the older Alpha as the more dominant one, but at the same time he didn't lose his own face and actually submitted.
Sonny acknowledged his recognition with a satisfied hum and by offering his hand to Sam, who in turn acknowledged his.
"James Woulis, but everybody calls me Sonny. Nice to meet you, Sam."
"Me too, sir. Dean's mentioned you a few times," Sam accepted his hand and shot Dean a quick glance.
"I've heard a lot about you, too," Sonny replied with a small, quiet smile, his nostrils flaring as he seemed to lose the scents that mingled around them. Dean mimicked him, but didn't make any particular sound. Just the shared scent of his and Sammy's, which he knew very well and which brought him peace and a sense of familiarity that made his Omega purr.
"Let's go over and cook some lunch," Alpha suggested as he let go of Sam's hand and reached behind him to untie the small blue apron he was wearing. "Wanda, I'm going home for lunch and I might not be back. Can you make it here without me?"
"No problem, boss," the Beta woman called from the counter.
Boss? Sonny ran the place? That explained why he'd been so cool about them coming to pick him up, and he'd already suggested in the message that they have lunch together.
"We live right down the street. We'll walk. The fresh air will cool even the hottest Alpha heads," he said, walking past Sam and stopping at the door to hold it open for them.
Dean exchanged glances with the little Alpha and smiled encouragingly. He was afraid that one talk with Sonny wouldn't be enough, but it might give Sammy more confidence when it came to his behavior with his foster parents. And maybe even knock some sense into his dull, knotted head so he wouldn't try to run away a second time.
°°0°°
Nothing had changed in Sonny's lair. It smelled and looked just as comfortable as when he'd left. Still, Sammy hesitated in the doorway, sniffed around a bit, and only decided to enter when Sonny explicitly invited him. And he stood at attention in the middle of the room. Another Alpha behavior - insecurity and caution in a stranger's lair - that he'd never seen him display as strongly as he did now. Damn it, his little brother was more and more Alpha and less and less his little puppy. When did this happen? he asked himself, his long gaze fixed on Sammy.
"I'll see what I can make for lunch," he suggested, finally tearing his gaze away from his brother and heading for the kitchen as well, leaving the Alphas to talk.
He placed his backpack at the foot of the dining table.
"We were planning to make a stew. If you'd like to take over, Dean, I'd appreciate it," Sonny's voice came from behind him.
"Sure, no problem," he turned from the fridge he'd already reached. "In the meantime... you two can talk about... something..." he said, waving his hand vaguely before turning back.
Meanwhile, as he started to look around to see what Sonny and the boys had ready for stew in the fridge, he kept an eye on the two Alphas who were dancing cautiously around each other in the living room. Sonny, of course, remained calm and, after a few 'polite' postures, just sat down on the couch. Sam was more... well, cautious, but he finally sat down on the other end of the couch and folded his bag beside him. Their heads and shoulders towered over the back of the couch, and it was kind of funny because they both had overgrown, slightly wavy hair.
"Dean said you were good to him," Sam spoke first.
Dean smiled slightly at the hunk of beef. It was a good sign that the little Alpha had spoken first.
"But I don't understand why he brought me here. You can't help me in any way and you don't take Alphas into your care."
Where Sam got this he wasn't sure, he probably heard them talking in the shop. Yeah, that was probably it, he decided as he pulled out his knife to cut the meat.
"No, I'm not taking custody of the Alphas," Sonny admitted, "but that's not why Dean brought you to me. Your brother thinks you might want to talk to another Alpha."
"I'm fine!" Came from Sam sharply with a hint of a growl.
"And you're sure?" Sonny shot back calmly. "You stole from your foster parents and ran away from them..."
"I wanted to be with Dean! He's my Omega..." Sam's voice grew stronger for a moment, but then faded quickly, and Dean could imagine his little brother's face turning pale and maybe even a little red at that moment. "That's not...that's not what I meant."
"Yes, you did," the older Alpha said simply. "Dean is the Omega of your family, of your pack, it's only natural to think of him as your own."
"He is his own, not mine. He doesn't belong to anyone. No one has the right to order him around or tell him what he can and can't do.
"No one can force him to obey, but Dean can decide for himself that he belongs to someone."
"Omegas are not property!"
"No, they're not, but most Omegas want Alpha. They want the sense of security it gives them. If they have a good Alpha in the family, or if they choose a good Alpha as a Mate and give themselves to him of their own free will, there's nothing wrong with that. Likewise, there is nothing wrong with an Alpha being possessive and protective of an Omega. He just needs to know the limits. He has to know when his Omega, or Beta, needs guidance and when he doesn't. It's not always easy, it takes experience and you have to learn to control yourself, but if you do, you'll be a good Alpha".
"It's not that easy...controlling myself...sometimes it's just..." Sam paused for a very long time.
Dean stopped cutting onions and strained his ears to hear his own breathing and heartbeat. He shouldn't listen like that. He was supposed to try to ignore the Alphas' conversation, but it wasn't like they were too far away or trying to talk as quietly as possible. Besides, he was Sam's brother. He had to know all about him. It was his responsibility to look after him.
"...Sometimes all I can hear is the growl in my head. All the muscles in my body are shaking and... my teeth. All my teeth hurt, not just my fangs. And when my fangs come out, my gums bleed. I know..." here he sighed, sounding more frustrated than angry. "I know that because of the amount of Apha enzymes that start to leach out at puberty, my adrenal glands rapidly enlarge and produce more adrenaline, which then causes increased muscle tone, increased heart rate and breathing, and increased aggression. And that my fangs are still too big for my gums and that's why they bleed every time, and of course I know it will get better with time. It's just that none of this helps me to calm down. Every time I get angry, I try to rationalize my anger. I try to realize that it's just a flood of hormones in my body and that I am more than my body. That they are a collection of thoughts, memories, emotions and soul, but... My Alpha doesn't seem to be a part of me at all. It's more like a parasite... a demon inside me... that one day will take over my body forever and I'll never get it back."
Wow... okay, that sounded scary, and Dean could see why Sam was so afraid of ever hurting anyone. Dean wasn't entirely in tune with his Omega himself, he was aware of that, sometimes uncomfortably so. She often wanted something other than what he wanted - other than Castiel. His Alpha had been what Dean and his Omega wanted for quite some time. But at least he could keep them at bay. For Sammy, maybe his Alpha was too much of a mouthful.
"That's pretty normal," Sonny replied, probably to the surprise of both of them. "Many Alphas have a problem with seeing their Alpha as their dark side. It's the result of hundreds of years of civilization focusing on the qualities of the inner Alpha that are considered bad, such as jealousy, possessiveness, anger, and territoriality. We often forget today that there are good urges in the nature of the Alpha. Self-sacrifice, a strong protective instinct, loyalty... If you want to connect with your inner Alpha and learn to control him, you have to become aware of his good qualities as well.
"What if he doesn't have any?" Sam asked, which on the one hand struck Dean as absurd. How could Sammy think his Alpha was evil or something? And on the other hand, it tore at his heart. Why hadn't the little Alpha confided in him how he felt?
"Of course he does," he encouraged Sonny. "Look at you and me, for example... We talk to each other even though we're strangers. I can see from that alone that your Alpha is tolerant."
"Or maybe he's just weak..."
"I don't think so. You couldn't look me in the eye. You and your Alpha are young, but strong."
"Then that makes it all the worse," Sam sighed. "The stronger he gets, the more I won't be able to control him."
"That's not true. If you want to, you can."
"But how? What am I supposed to do? When I get angry, I just... explode. Like today," he paused briefly. "Did Dean tell you what happened?"
"About the Alpha roar? Yes, he told me," Sonny nodded. "Explosions like that are preventable, and the older you get, the easier it actually gets."
"But what am I supposed to do? I mean, specifically... I've read that it helps to vent anger continuously, but I've never been into sports. I prefer to read. And although I can fight, I find fighting too violent. Shouldn't I avoid violent things?"
"Martial arts is a great way for an Alpha to get his aggression out while learning to control his strength. A few rounds with a heavy bag helps me too," Sonny confided in an encouraging tone. "I have a class once a week at a community center for the kids in the neighborhood. You could go. I'll introduce you to other Alphas your age and you can practice. It's a good way to get used to other Alphas."
"That's not a good idea," Sam replied. "I might do something to them."
Dean doused the meat with onions and spices and covered it with the lid, silently agreeing in his mind that it wasn't a good idea. Not that he was afraid of Sami being too aggressive, but he'd certainly had better training than the kids at some community center. The technique might have been the same, but the way it was used was definitely different. As their Alpha, he trained without mats, gloves, or pads, on bare dirt, asphalt, or, at best, motel room carpeting. He wanted the punches and holds they threw to be real. No fake dances like they learned in martial arts schools, and no honorable fighting either. Armbar holds and feints were not only welcome, they were literally desired. And Dean knew all too well that it was hard to control yourself and not hit hard.
" They will be Alphas like you. Just as strong and resilient. You won't hurt them, and if they're just as scared, we can go a few rounds together. Would that make you feel better?"
"Yes, that would be better, but it still won't work. My foster parents won't let me go, especially if they find out about this..."
Dean couldn't see the couch, but he assumed that Sam was pointing to the bag of loot.
"Yeah, you should tell them."
"But then they'll kick me out," he replied with absolute conviction, but he didn't sound disappointed or worried.
"Trust me, foster parents become foster parents knowing that the puppies they take in may have been through a lot and may have a lot of problems of their own. Besides, no one is perfect. We all make mistakes and bad choices. Telling them what you did means taking responsibility for your actions. And that's the best thing a person can do."
"They can still send me away," Sam replied, still unconcerned. Dean could tell by the sound of his voice that he didn't really care if he stayed with his current Beta foster parents or somewhere else. But he didn't care. Now that he'd seen Sammy and from what he'd told him about the Beta family, it was clear to him that it was a really good place. Staying with the Chadras or Chaudhrys or whatever these people were called would be best for him.
"That could always happen. But good parents and good foster parents know their kids can make mistakes and they don't judge them for them. They help them work through the problems."
"Okay. I'll call Farah and tell her where I am and what to do."
"If you want, Dean's old room is available. The other door down the hall..."
Sam hummed a thank you, got up and disappeared around the corner to the room. Dean frowned a little. Telling his foster parents what he had done wasn't a good idea. Who wanted to keep someone who had stolen from them.
"Is that a good idea?" He asked as he heard the door slam behind Little Alpha; Sonny turned to him with a questioning look. "You know... telling them what he did. He could just give them the stuff back and I'll make sure they get the twenty bucks back for the tickets, too."
"Dean," the Alpha addressed him in a rather stern tone, getting up and making his way to the kitchen. "This isn't about the stuff and the money per se. It's about the fact that stealing is wrong."
"Yeah, sure, I get that, but... this isn't like robbing a bank. He hasn't really hurt anyone. But if he doesn't have a good home and ends up in a place like Sun Hill... it could ruin his whole life."
"He's going to ruin his life if he steals, because one day it's bus tickets or candy. And then it's a car. And before he knows it, he'll be in jail for five years. You should let him know that."
"Yeah, yeah, I do, but sometimes... sometimes you just gotta do it, Alpha. Sometimes you have no choice but to take what you need because you can't buy it."
Alpha didn't even blink, no surprise, just an understanding nod and understanding in his expression and eyes.
"Did you have to steal often to have something to eat?" He asked as he sat down.
Dean pursed his lips and reached for the kettle to stir the stew instead. He didn't want to talk about it because it made it seem like their Alpha dad wasn't a good parent, but that wasn't true. It wasn't that their Alpha took their money and preferred to spend it on alcohol or drugs or his own entertainment, and that was why they couldn't afford food. When there was no money for food, no one had food, and when he left them alone and the money ran out, it was usually Dean's fault. He didn't manage well, he miscalculated somewhere, or he didn't earn as much as he needed to. In those other cases... Dad couldn't send them everything he made because he had to spend the money on more important things, like ammunition or bribes to people who could help him find Mom's killer.
"Sometimes," he finally admitted, putting the stove back down and moving the lid to let the steam out before turning back to Sonny. "I never took more than we needed."
"I believe you," Sonny nodded. "But that doesn't change the fact that stealing is illegal and wrong. But I understand that. At that point, you had a tough choice between breaking the law or letting your puppy continue to starve. No one in the civilized world should have to face such a dilemma, especially a young Omega boy."
"That didn't bother anyone. I mean, taking care of Sam and taking risks for him. I'd like to keep taking care of him, I could give him everything now with my Alpha and not have to risk anything, it's just..." The words caught in his teeth, thankfully in time for him to say why it would be safer for Sam to stay with his foster parents. And yesterday's image of the Beta woman, crying and reeking of fear, stretched out on the table beneath one of Castiel's men, flashed before his eyes. Then there was the dead prostitute in the van the other day, or the way they'd held Sam at gunpoint. This was no safe place for a puppy. Not to mention that his Alpha didn't want Dean's brother around.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Child Protective Services hadn't come for them. Would he have spent the heat with Castiel? Yes, he probably would have. Maybe even more, maybe they would be mated by now, and maybe the Alpha wouldn't have such a problem taking Sam back to his lair. It would be so natural, because they just couldn't leave Sam alone somewhere. Wouldn't they? No, maybe not. Anyway, he thought it would be better if things stayed the same.
"If they'd just let me keep taking care of Sam, everything would be better," the voice said, resting his hands on the arm of the chair. "We had a place to live. Castiel had arranged a nice apartment for us, as big as this one. There was a bedroom for me and Sam. Mine even had a nesting bed in it. My Alpha gave us money and paid for the apartment, but he wanted me to get a job. We went to school and I took care of Sam like I always had. Then those two damn childcare people broke into our apartment and everything fell apart!" He waved his hands to illustrate the imaginary explosion. "I came to Sun Hill, where I almost died, and now I have this." He hooked his fingers into his collar. "According to that damn law, I'm closer to an animal than a human. I shouldn't even be here, because I can't go anywhere alone. And Sammy is somewhere with strangers, and they're even Betas. That's not fair! Everyone keeps saying how we have the rule of law and how the system is there to protect us all, but we... we'd be better off without the great care of the system!" His voice grew louder with each word, and the bitter smell of Omega's anger stung not only his nose, but also Sonny's, who wrinkled his nose a little. He ended up shouting, but then his voice suddenly faded, and he raked his hair with a weary sigh as his eyes slid to the tabletop itself.
"You're right up to a point," Sonny's answer surprised him; Dean looked up at him, his eyes uncomprehending. "You'll be seventeen in January. If you weren't in Alpha custody and remained in my care, I would try to help you emancipate yourself and get custody of your brother."
"What?" He frowned in disbelief.
"Emancipate yourself... gain early adulthood. Then you can claim your brother."
He'd heard of it, of course, but he'd never considered it. Dad usually took care of them, so he didn't see the point.
And in the time he hadn't been around, Dean had taken care of everything, even if he didn't have a paper saying he was an adult. That was as important as a driver's license. Just like you didn't need a license to know how to drive a car, you didn't need a piece of paper from the government to be able to do 'adult' things.
"Could this really work?" He asked as he sat down at his desk.
"It has its conditions. You have to be at least sixteen, you have to prove that you have a place to live, and that you're capable of financial independence. That means a reasonably well-paying job or a large financial reserve. It's best if an adult offers to sponsor an emancipated minor," Alpha listed a few points. "Missouri and I talked about this. In fact, she was the one who suggested it. According to her, you'd have a good chance of the court granting you emancipation, and even a chance of getting custody of Sam. It would be in your favor that you've already taken care of yourself and him, that you've worked, and that you have a scent bond. Separating puppies from their Omegas is not usually looked upon favorably by the courts. Breaking that bond may not show up right away, but there are long-term consequences. Missouri sees a lot of these cases in practice."
"Before... with Cas... I had all that. I could have given Sam a good home. But now... I have this." He showed the collar. "The Alpha said he wanted to relinquish custody when I turned eighteen, but that's a year and a few months away."
"He said that?" Sonny asked, sounding surprised.
"Yeah. It's causing him a lot of problems too, having to keep me under his supervision all the time, or someone he puts in charge of it," he explained to Alpha the same way Castiel had explained it to him earlier, then paused for a moment in thought. "Do you think if he relinquished custody now, the court would allow me to emancipate myself?" If nothing else, it would be a chance to get rid of the stupid restrictions that were now in place for him.
"I don't know much about Alpha guardianship. I never liked the concept. But maybe, just maybe, your Alpha could also provide you with patronage and be a steward of your finances. An Alpha in that role is always the greatest gain."
Dean nodded slightly and frowned. Maybe he could try to suggest that to Castiel. Probably not right away, since he'd been having trouble with his business lately and wasn't in the least bit in the mood for such a discussion. Especially not after yesterday. Asking an angry Alpha for something wasn't a good idea. It would probably be best to put aside kindness and act nice for a few days, maybe even weeks, before trying to deal with Alpha.
At that moment, Sam appeared around the corner and walked up to the table before speaking:
"I called Farah and told her what happened. She said she didn't want to fire me, but she was pissed. She's taking the day off and coming to pick me up. I gave her the address. I hope you don't mind?" He looked at Sonny.
"No, it's fine. When is she coming?"
"He said fifteen minutes."
Damn! That was too damn soon. He didn't spend enough time with Sam. That didn't work. He couldn't leave yet. Driven by his Omega, which was suddenly tense and whimpering anxiously in the corner of his mind, he rose abruptly from his chair, only to be at a loss for what to say or do in the next moment. No, no, wait, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell Sammy not to leave and he wanted to take him with him. All his instincts were screaming at him not to let his puppy go again. Rationally, though, he knew he couldn't. Sam had to go.
"Okay... well... was she really upset?" He changed the subject instead.
"I think she was more scared. She already got a call from the school that I didn't show up. She tried to contact me, but I blocked her. I had about twenty messages from her," Sam said thoughtfully, also seeming a little surprised that a Beta would be so worried about him. The truth was, even though Dean was worried about him, he just had to leave him alone and couldn't check on him all the time, and when Sam was old enough, he stayed in motels alone for days at a time. He wasn't used to being so obviously worried.
"Get something to drink and sit down," Sonny urged the little Alpha, and oddly enough, Sam walked over to the fridge without protest and got a bottle of water out of it, just as he was told, and sat down across from the still standing Dean. From his seat, he immediately gave him a questioning look.
Dean sank into his chair.
"I think she'll be here a lot sooner than she said," the adult Alpha remarked into the silence that followed.
Neither of them had anything to say, and so the silence was broken only by the rumble of cars outside and the rustle of an open soda bottle. He could only spend the last few minutes with Sam before they wouldn't see each other again for a terribly long time, and he couldn't even do the most basic thing he'd like to do: pull him close, bury his nose in his hair, and while inhaling his puppy scent, mark him as his own. The fact that he couldn't do that gave him a kind of sickening tightness in his chest that only increased as he wandered more and more to the wall shelf where the old clock face stood, slowly ticking away their last minutes together.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
Sonny got up with the words "I'll get it" and went to open the door to someone other than Sam's foster mother.
Dean straightened up in anticipation and his Omega tensed as if he expected to have to protect his brother from some danger. He already knew in advance that this wasn't the case, although maybe... maybe his foster mother would yell at him or do something else that would be a justifiable reason to take Sammy away from her, whether some damn judge and social services agency liked it or not. But just the sight of the woman Sonny saw as he stepped back to let her in told him that wasn't going to be the case.
From the name alone, he knew she was from somewhere in the Middle East, and the sight of her casually confirmed it. Even though she had to be well into her thirties, maybe even forties, she had a sixteen year old daughter, so she was still beautiful. Her skin was a soft olive, her eyes were light brown to amber, almost the color of Omega, and almond shaped, and the few hairs that showed under a loosely tied colored scarf were black as coal. The loose beige coat she wore over a burgundy turtleneck and black jeans prevented Dean from telling what kind of figure she had, but there could be nothing but a nice body to go with such a pretty face. But it wasn't her beauty that convinced him that she posed no danger, it was the way she looked at Sammy, who had just gotten up from the table to face her. At first, her eyes were fearful and her face tense, but when she saw that the little Alpha was alive and obviously healthy, her whole demeanor relaxed.
"Samuel..." he breathed out in relief - there was that use of Sam's full name again. What did humans have to do with it all of a sudden? - And with a few quick steps she was at Sammy's side, just to cradle his face in her hands, which the little Alpha strangely liked, and added: "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried about you. What did you think you were doing, running off like that?" He asked, this time there was some seriousness in her voice, and she moved her hands to Sam's shoulders.
At that moment, Dean was out of control, and a warning growl slipped out of his mouth. Sure, he knew that Betas didn't have that kind of feeling, but scent glands just weren't touched that way. It wasn't okay.
The Beta - he mostly caught the scent of incense and some expensive perfume, neither of which were likely her natural scents - looked over Sam's head at him. Almost at the same moment, the little Alpha jerked his shoulders and stepped back as far as the chair would allow him to get out of its grip, and a whiff of disgruntled Alpha filled the air. It almost made Dean growl again.
"I'm sorry, Farah. I wanted to see my brother."
"And you wanted to run off with him," the Beta added, looking back at Sam.
"Yes, because we belong together. I'm his Alpha and he's my Omega, you understand?"
"I'm trying to understand, I really am, but you can't do this. You can't just rob us and run away. Where would you go anyway, hmm?" He asked, and she not only looked at Dean, but took a step in his direction. "Do you think you could take care of yourselves? No money, no job, no home? Wouldn't it bother you if your puppy starved, Omega?"
Every word she said, directed at Dean, was a clear attack. She didn't doubt for a moment that he was the one who had planned the theft and the escape and had driven Sam to do it, and as he knew from experience, there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. Whatever information she had about his past, she knew enough, in her opinion, to form a picture. The fact that it was a picture that reflected only a part of reality didn't bother her. He'd been through this a thousand times. He didn't even take it personally anymore, and frankly, he saw no reason to retaliate against Beta in this case. Sammy had to go with her, it was inevitable, and if she got mad at him, then Little Alpha could take the fall for him.
"I don't know what I was thinking, ma'am. I just wanted to be with Sam, and since we used to get along... I thought it would work out somehow, but then I realized it was stupid and I brought Sam here," he took all the blame.
The little Alpha immediately took a breath to protest, but Dean gave him a stern look that thankfully silenced him for now. Maybe for the last time.
"That was probably one of the few right things you've done in your life," Beta replied sternly, then turned to Sam. "Please get your bag and wait in the hall. I want to thank Mr. Woulis."
"I'll say goodbye to Dean first," Sam demanded uncompromisingly, leaving Beta no choice but to step aside and let Sam pass so he could give Dean a hug.
He pulled the puppy close to him and buried his nose in his neck. Samy smelled a familiar mixture of sandalwood, the scent of olives in the sun, and puppy scent, all a little tainted with bitterness and acidity. Still, it felt good to have his brother pressed against him, and he held him tightly again. Unfortunately, he knew he had to let Sam go, but he indulged himself before letting go. He stretched his neck and rubbed his scent gland against Sammy's hair. The little Alpha put his head down and let him rub his hair and apply the Omega scent mark until Dean himself began to think it was silly. The two pairs of eyes staring at them burned into his forehead.
He pulled away.
"Bye, puppy. And call me when you get home."
"Sure, Dean. It's good to see you," he replied bravely, even trying to control his scent, but the smell of abandoned puppy found its way into Dean's nose anyway.
His Omega whimpered pitifully. Dean pushed him away and released the little Alpha, only to see him leave with a look as he walked towards the door.
"Dean," Farah addressed him; he turned to her. "Dean... that's your name, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, Dean... I understand that you haven't had an easy life, and I heard about what happened at Sun Hill and that you were there, but... if you love your brother, you should stay away from him. You know what I mean?" She asked pointedly, but didn't let Dean speak. "Samuel is smart and he's an Alpha, he could do great things, be successful, but having you in his life is holding him back. You're a bad influence on him."
"You can't ask me to never see my own brother again!"
"Actually, we could. We could forbid him from writing or calling you, we could contact your Alpha guardian, or we could ask the family court to forbid you from seeing him, but I hope you'll be reasonable and do what's best for your brother so we don't have to take such drastic measures. That's all I wanted to say. Take care of yourself, and I sincerely wish you the best in life," she graced him with an utterly stupid sentence, made even more absurd by the fact that she said it after threatening him, and turned to leave.
He had a hundred urges to tell her to fuck off, to just take Sammy and get out of this damn city, but he couldn't let his Alpha down, and making trouble wouldn't do his brother any good. And so he remained silent, lips pressed tightly together, stifling the tormenting feeling of abandonment and whining from his Omega as he watched the Beta say goodbye to Sonny and close the door behind her.
Once they were closed, Dean allowed himself to relax at least a little. He sank into a chair, leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. He wasn't crying, of course not, he wasn't a whiny Omega, but his throat tightened uncomfortably with unshed tears.
A hand came to rest on the back of his head and the scent of protective Alpha enveloped him. It was the first time Sonny had dared to touch him like that, and Dean didn't really mind. It wasn't one of his Alphas, but it was Sonny, so it was okay. He allowed himself to be comforted by the scent of hibiscus and tea and the melodic purr of the Alpha, which was meant to soothe the distraught Omega.
Chapter Text
He hooked the burning cigarette into his fang and ran his fingers over the wad of bills Ulyana's husband had handed him. Counting his share of the Doll was the last stop today. Then he planned to go home, take a nap and try to spend some time with Dean.
He realized that he might have gone a bit overboard yesterday. He was annoyed that Omega had put himself in unnecessary danger again and gotten himself into more trouble, but when he calmed down he had to admit that Balthazar had his share of it. He told him to come by and see Dean and offer him shopping or some other entertainment. He didn't say anything about breaking into the apartment. He had given Beta access and the password as one of the few because he believed he wasn't stupid and wouldn't use his privileges unless specifically ordered or necessary. But apparently he was that stupid. He'd knocked some sense into him, and along with his dignity and some of that blood, he'd also taken away access to his lair, which was something he wanted to point out to Omega today. Dean deserved to know that their lair was truly theirs now. And then he would assure him that he would never see again what he had experienced yesterday. It wasn't a good idea to bring Omega so close for many reasons, starting with the fact that the less he knew and saw, the less he could say. But also because he could see how deeply it affected Dean, and he didn't really want Omega to fear him, so it was better to keep that part of his life separate.
"The winnings have been really great lately. I guess the publicity helped in the end," Dmitry Sergeyevich echoed politely.
"Yes, it has," he agreed, surprised himself at the increase in traffic since a culinary blogger had come to Doll and asked if she could do a podcast episode about the business - in Castiel's younger days, it was called a reportage. The idea of having someone film a place where the Brotherhood meets didn't strike him as the best idea, but then he thought about it and came to the conclusion that if he brought in a few more Americans, it might make Doll look less like 'the seedbed of the Russian Mafia', as one Organized Crime Unit cop called it in a report.
"Boss..." addressed Yuri.
He looked up from the money, and when Beta nodded toward the door, his gaze went straight through the window to the two black SUVs that had just pulled up across the street. Nothing happened for a moment and then five men got out of the cars one after the other. One look at them was enough to know who they were. It was Sadik and his mens, who had come to sell them their own guns that Sadik's Albanian gang had stolen from the port. He expected something like this. It was payback for the destroyed Omegas shipment, and it was also a way for the Albanians to recoup their losses. This was Sadik's style.
"Go to the kitchen, Dmitri Sergeyevich," he ordered Beta as he stuffed the bills into his pocket and then stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught Ulyana's husband hurrying back into the kitchen after his wife.
Sadik had reached the door, so he motioned for Boris to open it for him, and with a slight nod Golem agreed to rise from his desk and stand at the door, ready to guard it if anyone other than Sadik and two of his men tried to enter.
Boris held the door open for Sadik, who entered, bringing his Alpha scent with him. The tantalizing scent of ripe black cranberries with an undertone of mushroom that combined with the fruity scent made it almost musty. At his side was Florian Lamaj, known as 'Frankie'. Sadik's right hand man, who- like Castiel knew on good authority - sometimes did things Sadik had no idea about. And accompanying the other Alpha was one of his men, but unlike Sadik and Frankie, he stayed close to the door to keep an eye on Boris and Golem.
Castiel lifted his head and puffed out his chest, but at the same time took a relaxed drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke, choking on the short butt as he continued to stare into the other Alpha's eyes. The other returned his gaze, as well as his pose, both unwilling to both submit and admit what they knew of the other. For just as Castiel knew it was Sadik's gang that had killed their men and robbed them of their weapons, so Sadik, for a change, knew it was the Brotherhood that had sent down the container with their shipment of whores. But since the Albanians hadn't retaliated in style, but by robbing them, and apparently - just as Castiel had planned - coming back to sell them their own goods, even Castiel had put his bloody revenge on hold for a while. But that did not mean that he intended to let his men die, and that retribution was not imminent.
"Sadiku," he finally broke the silence and the tense atmosphere and strode toward his guests. "To what do I owe this visit?"
"Castiel." Sadik gave him a false smile. "I've heard a lot about this place. I hear they have excellent food and even better drinks. I thought I'd stop by for lunch."
"Yeah, the chef here is great and they have great beer, but it's actually closed right now."
"Oh, that's too bad... but maybe they could open up the kitchen for your old friend."
"Da. Of course," he agreed; business was best discussed over a meal, then turned to Yuri in Russian: "Tell the kitchen to bring the menu." He waited until Beta nodded and disappeared behind the bar before turning back to Sadik and motioning with his head to the nearest table. "Let's sit down and have a drink first. Maybe a Slivovitz."
"I shouldn't... but a little glass wouldn't hurt," Sadik accepted his invitation.
Meanwhile, Yuri, who had returned from behind, pushed Castiel's chair back. Sadik did it himself, and while Yuri stayed behind the back of Castiel's chair, Frankie took a seat next to his Alpha, always ready to cut in at the most opportune moment for him.
Dmitry Sergeyevich emerged from the kitchen and, after a brief stop behind the bar to pick up two menus, stood at their table.
"Hello. Please..." he placed the three menus in front of them before pulling out a padded notebook and pen. "Do you know what you would like to drink?"
"Beer for me. And bring two Slivovitz."
"I'll have a beer too. Same as him," Sadik nodded at Castiel, smiling. "I trust your taste."
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, though he knew it was fake, and watched in silence as Sadik and Frankie discussed what they were going to eat. He hadn't meant to give the Albanians the impression that he had any particular interest in the goods they wanted to sell back to them, though the opposite was true. Some of the regular customers were not only concerned that the delivery was so late, they found out the reason, which was that their weapons had been stolen, and the customers didn't like that at all. They talked about the unreliability of the Bratva and of Castiel himself. It didn't give the Brotherhood a good name and reputation, which was the most important thing in this business. When you're dealing with people who have no remorse, it's their reputation and their own kind of business code that you can rely on.
So it was out of the question that they would just buy their goods back from the Albanians, and if Sadik really thought that would happen, he was a little naive. But Castiel was not going to take that naivete away from him. On the contrary, he would take advantage of it.
Dmitry Sergeyevich returned to their table with a tray of three perfectly poured beers and maybe a big shot of slivovitz, just as it was supposed to be, and as he put it in front of them, he asked if they had their choice yet. Frankie replied that they still needed a moment, so Ulyana's husband went to the back again.
"How about a toast to this great meeting?" Beta suggested, raising his glass of Slivovitz with a smile.
"Perfect idea," Sadik agreed, patting him on the shoulder and raising his own glass. "To our good relationship. Gëzuar!"
"Gëzuar!" Frankie joined in.
"Na zdorov'ye!"
He raised Castiel's glass as well, and then the three of them emptied it in one gulp. He rolled the remnants of the plum flavor and alcoholic heat over his tongue and watched over the rim of his glass as Sadik did the same before nodding his head in approval.
"Not bad," he judged the plum brandy with a satisfied smile before raising his hand to wave the glass toward the bar. "Three more!"
He didn't mind another round, so he just set the glass down on the table and was about to take a sip of his beer when the American's phone rang in his pocket. At the worst possible moment. With a small grunt, he reached into his pocket, pulled it out and looked at the screen where it said Parker. He didn't have to think long to remember that it was the vice principal of Dean's school. His Alpha, already slightly annoyed by the presence of another Alpha who was also his enemy, growled and bristled, partly in fear, partly in irritation. Sure, the first thing that went through his mind was that something had happened to Dean, but the second was that it probably hadn't and that it was more likely some kind of problem that Omega had caused again. Because that was what Dean had been doing the whole time they'd known each other. He'd gotten himself into endless trouble, or even caused it, and then Castiel had to deal with it. And it wasn't just going to cost him a lot of money - the renovation of the music classroom had been estimated to cost between eighty and a hundred thousand, as he'd assumed - but above all manpower, time and resources. And far more self-denial and patience than he had ever shown in his life. And to top it all off, instead of kindness and appreciation from Omega, he'd received only anger, irritation, and disrespect.
"Sorry, Sadik, but I have to take this. It'll only take a moment," he said politely as he stood up.
"No problem. We'll pick out our food first," the other Alpha assured him, draping his arm comfortably over the back of his Beta's chair in a pose that showed irritating sovereignty and what seemed like minimal concern for being on foreign territory. Despite the fact that Castiel knew it was a deliberate provocation, he couldn't stop his Alpha from growling in irritation. Outwardly, however, he made no sign of it, merely lifting his chin and giving Sadik a look from beneath his pinned eyelids before turning away and stalking into the lounge without hesitation.
The phone stopped ringing before he reached the back room, where he had enough privacy to make the call without the Albanians hearing him, so they knew he preferred his Omega to business. Which would be very dangerous if anyone knew, including his own men.
So he dialed the Deputy Director's number and waited less than two rings before Beta's voice came through on the other end.
"Hello, Alpha Novak."
"You called. What happened?"
"Omega Winchester seems to be missing."
For once, he let his protective growl loose on Alpha, and an irritated grunt accompanied by the scraping of plastic echoed through the empty back room as Castiel gripped the phone tightly. He was worried about his Omega, because if he wasn't accompanied by his men, he was in danger. That, by the way, became clear every time Dean went somewhere alone or just stayed alone. But he was also angry. Anger at the school and all the incompetent staff and the lack of security measures to ensure that the one and only Omega stayed where he was supposed to be; in the school building. And that Dean had escaped again, Castiel didn't doubt that for a moment.
"Are you telling me you couldn't take care of him?"
"We did everything we could, and when Omega didn't show up for his first class, we searched the entire building. But it seems he escaped..."
"If your security measures were worth anything, he wouldn't have been able to escape."
"I realize that, and the school is taking responsibility for this. Of course we'll call the police to -"
"No!" He interrupted. "No police. I'll have my people look for him."
"I'm sorry, but since Omega is in Alpha's custody, we have to call the police," the assistant director argued.
"If you call the police, there's a chance that my custody of Dean will be revoked. That would mean he wouldn't be allowed to come to your school, would it?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.
"Yes, that's a possibility..."
"In that case, tell me, what reason would I have to be generous to your school if I didn't have children and Dean didn't attend your school anymore?"
"None," was the prompt answer this time. "But understand, Alpha, that if we don't report his disappearance and it turns out that he left the school without your escort or the escort of the person you designated, there will be great trouble. And it will be not only for the school, but also for me personally."
"In that case, we both have to make sure that nothing gets out, don't you think?"
"I don't know... it's a big risk for me... I could definitely lose the career I've built over twenty years, and I could even go to jail for negligence. I really don't know if I can accommodate you..."
"I understand. Is there anything that would help you face this risk?"
Again there was silence on the other end of the line. The deputy director was obviously considering what his price was and how much Castiel would be willing to give.
"I've always wanted to see BoraBora," the director finally squeezed out.
Castiel grinned contemptuously. He could have asked for a lot more than a vacation worth a lot less than his wardrobe, but he wasn't about to tell Parker that. If he couldn't set his own price and save Castiel money, he certainly had no reason to correct him.
"I hear it's a beautiful place. I'm sure you'll enjoy it," he replied lightly. "Are we agreed then?
"Of course, Alpha. I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I really had forgotten that you had already picked up Omega Winchester. Have a nice rest of the day."
He didn't bother to say hello either, just hung up and opened the chat to text Dean, but then paused, dropped it again and opened a location search on Omega's phone. It only took a few seconds to load before the map showed him a point rapidly approaching the school. Castiel squinted and watched as the dot stopped about a block from the school, and then watched as Dean made his way to the back of the campus, across it, and finally right into the school building. He turned around so that Castiel's men standing at the front entrance couldn't see him. At least it meant he was in the relative safety of the school, which wasn't as reassuring as it could and should have been.
He dropped the map and put the phone back in his pocket.
He was determined. This was the last time he would allow Omega to behave like this. If he couldn't be reasonable and weigh the risks, then Castiel would have to do it for him. Dean had left him no other choice, and even though he had hoped all along that things would turn out differently, he now saw that they wouldn't. He saw that his brothers and maybe even his father had been right all along. Omegas, and probably especially one like Dean, should not be given too much freedom. And Castiel had been wrong to try to give it to Dean. He saw that clearly now.
He would have to deal with Dean and his behavior later, now he had to deal with Sadik.
He went back into the main room of the Doll.
°°0°°
Sonny drove him about a block away from the school and didn't even argue about it. It seemed that according to Alpha there were laws that had to be obeyed and then there was the Omega in Distress Act that he didn't enforce. In fact, he didn't say a word about it the whole time, and he didn't even criticize Dean for leaving the school in secret. It was surprising, but only a little.
He said a quick goodbye to Sonny and then returned to the school, just as he and Sam had left earlier. It was just about time for lunch, so he stopped by for a bite to eat and then for the next three classes that awaited him. But he paid little attention to the lessons. He kept checking the chat to see if he had received a message from Sam, but not only had he not, Little Alpha had been absent the whole time, first absent and then even offline. That worried him, but he hoped it was just because his foster parents had forbidden him to use his phone. What else could it be?
The Beta female who had come for Dean had only directed her anger at him, not at Sammy. So, yeah, he was sure they just banned his phone, or at least told him not to talk to Dean. He took it. If Sam wants to keep this family safe, he'll accept not being able to talk to him.
The deputy principal picked him up from his last class and took him to a car where Vadim and Jacob were already waiting. While Jacob drove quietly as usual, Vadim tried to get Dean's attention by talking more about the show. This time about Doctor Sexy, which he had started to watch. But the truth was, he wasn't in the mood to talk. His Omega was depressed and longed for his puppy, and his stomach hurt. Probably because he'd had a double portion of chicken nuggets for lunch. Not a good idea.
Eventually Vadim gave up and walked the rest of the way in silence. Of course, they brought him to the garage, where Jacob opened the door for him - at some point, Dean wasn't even sure when, he got used to that kind of attention and resigned himself to trying to open the door himself - and then the two Betas led him to the elevator door.
He smiled at them, because he wanted to be polite and they were... well, not exactly friends, but they were cool and didn't deserve him to be mean to them. They couldn't help his messed up life and his bad mood. And after the long ride up, he leaned tiredly against the back wall of the elevator and rubbed his aching and bloated stomach. Maybe a drink was in order. Uncle Bobby always said it fixed a bad stomach.
He slammed the door behind him, locked it, and then tossed the card on the shoe cabinet as he kicked off his shoes and inhaled the sweet smell of Alpha's lair. It would be nice if he could get more. Maybe he could kiss Castiel, because, hell, they hadn't really kissed in a long time. Or if they could cuddle. Hell, yeah, he felt so bad that he'd forget his strong, emancipated Omega attitude for a moment and snuggle up to his Alpha, except... Not only was the Alpha probably gone by now, but after yesterday, Dean wouldn't even know how to approach him. After the way Castiel had acted and what he had seen down in Blue sky, he just couldn't... just go up to the Alpha and hug him. It seemed absurd.
He left his bag and clothes by the door and went straight to the kitchen to find something to drink.
He pulled out his glass and was staring at the shelf where Alpha had stacked the spirits, trying to figure out which ones had which flavor just by looking at the pictures on the labels, when a deep, gravelly voice startled him:
"How was school?"
He turned sharply to find Castiel standing beside the table, watching Dean with piercing blue eyes that looked down at Dean from his calm face with an unidentifiable expression. He wasn't sure what he saw in Alpha's sharply cut features and the lines of his wrinkles, but something warned him to be careful.
"Yeah, it's fine..." he replied neutrally, putting down his glass of liniment.
"Really?" Alpha asked, tilting his head in a gesture that made him look like a big bird. "Nothing interesting happened?" He continued to ask as he slowly approached Dean.
Instead of the instinct to submit to the Alpha, his training had warned him to be very, very careful, and his whole body tensed spontaneously in a reaction similar to the basic fight or flight instinct. He lifted his chin deliberately and looked Castiel in the eye, which might not have been the best idea in this vaguely dangerous situation, but Dean wasn't about to bow to anyone just yet.
"No, nothing interesting. Normal, you know? Studying, lunch, boring," he replied, whereupon he decided to add the experience with Kevin. "Just some idiots trying to cut and bleach Kevin's hair. I stopped them and taught them a lesson. I don't like bullies," he added with a shrug, and despite what he had promised himself just a second ago, he looked away from his glass for a moment. It happened as the thought crossed his mind that he could offer Castiel a drink as well. They could share a drink. It would be a good idea to break the oppressive silence that had settled between them after last night.
A sudden whiff of bitter almonds was all that alerted him, and also made him look up just in time to see the palm approaching before it struck him in the cheek. There was a thud at first as skin met skin. Then Dean's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow that hit him. And only at the very end did a sharp pain explode through his face.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Dean was in shock.
It wasn't a punch that the Alpha really wanted to hurt him with, because if he had, he could have broken his jaw with a single blow. But it was a punch. Castiel hit him. He hit him when no one was around, and even though he had done nothing to humiliate his Alpha, either in front of his men or in public.
"Lzhivaya suka!" Castel growled in Russian, his voice thickening in an accusatory tone, and before Dean could defend himself, the Alpha's strong arm shot out like an attacking viper and a painful weight landed on the back of his head, forcing him to duck his head. "You thought I wouldn't know you escaped again. Hmm?"
He murmured questioningly, sounding almost exactly the same as he'd spoken to the Beta female yesterday.
Dean's heart raced and anger flooded his insides, but also fear, which quickly gained intensity as the Alpha leaned forward and took a deep, disgusted sniff. It was then that he realized that he smelled not only of Sam, but more importantly, of Sonny, and while his scent was in no way incriminating, it was not the scent of the Alpha's arousal, it was simply the scent of another Alpha.
An Alpha that wasn't related to Dean. An Alpha who had gotten too close to Castiel's Omega. And that was...fuck, fuck, fuck. The memory of the photos of the battered Alpha and his dead eyes sitting in a pale face 'decorated' with a well-aimed shot between the eyes flashed before his eyes. If Castiel would honor Sonny's scent and associate him with Sonny... The thought drove him to counterattack. He didn't want to be responsible for another death, especially Sonny's. Hell no!
He didn't hesitate to throw his head back sharply and managed to get out of the Alpha's grip. Then he took two steps back, assumed a fighting stance, and not only looked defiantly into Castiel's eyes, but showed his teeth in a snarl.
"Don't touch me!" he barked through bared teeth; the Alpha immediately responded with the exact same growl and came at him in a bow. Dean knew that if this continued, it would be fight or flight. And in truth, he wasn't naive enough to think he stood a chance against Castiel.
Thankfully, and surprisingly, the Alpha stopped before Dean could take another step back, slowly straightening out of his fighting stance, which was somehow strangely more terrifying than when he'd growled before. Then, when he stopped growling as well, he clenched his teeth and his face took on an impassive expression, so that the only thing betraying his anger was the smell of bitter almonds that completely covered the scent of roasting cherries... that was when Dean felt uncertainty in addition to anger and fear. Was Alpha's behavior the calm before the storm, or was he really trying to prevent a fight that probably wouldn't end well for Dean? Submission, at least.
"You smell like your brother and the other Alpha... Sonny. You were with them..."
It wasn't even a question, more of a statement, but Dean, in his creeping uncertainty, just had to answer. He had to damn well explain.
"Yeah... yeah I was with them," he said, slowly, alert to Castiel's every move, or rather his stillness, and straightened from his fighting stance. "Sam came to the school and was determined that we had to run away together. I didn't want to go with him, but I had to make sure he got back to his foster parents safely and didn't try to run away again. And Sonny... I felt that Sonny could talk to him, so I took him to him."
"Why didn't you tell me about this and lied instead?"
"I... I really don't know," he admitted after a short hesitation. In fact, he really didn't know why he lied. "I don't know why I didn't tell you the truth right away. I guess I was afraid of how you'd react when you found out I was seeing Sam."
"You slept with him?"
He blinked. The question confused him. It was so completely off topic, and besides...
"What? With who?"
"Don't play the idiot, Omega!" Castiel growled warningly. "You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid. I want to know if you fucked that Alpha or not."
"No!" He denied immediately and a little indignantly, not only because it was ridiculous to even imagine that Sonny would want him that way. He'd never even hinted at it, and even his scent was more like that of an 'Alpha Daddy' than just any Alpha, let alone a Knot who wanted to fuck Dean. Besides, he'd never even thought of another Alpha besides Castiel. Never!
"No, of course I didn't sleep with him! How could you even think that? I told you, I've never had or wanted another Alpha! Can't your bloody, knotted head remember that?"
Another warning growl told him that he might not be able to insult an Alpha, so he at least kept his voice down.
"Why should I believe you?" Castiel asked, looking down at Dean in a way that made him feel small while filling his nostrils with the stench of rotten cake. "Since we've known each other, half of what you tell me is a lie, and you leave the other half unsaid. Everything that comes out of that sweet mouth of yours," he said in a shrill tone, grabbing Dean by the chin, "is just garbage. Just a way to manipulate me." He let go and took a step back, only to look at Dean in a way that made his omega retreat to the darkest corner and whimper in fear of his Alpha's contempt for him. "You flirt with others and don't even respect me or the simple rules that are only there for your safety. You expect my trust, you expect me to give you everything you want, but you offer nothing in return. I have nothing but trouble with you and nothing to gain from it. That's over now," he declared with cold determination. "You're determined to act like a brat, so I'm going to treat you like one, even if it gets me into more trouble than I already have."
"Cas, I don't know what..."
"Shut up," he stopped him with an unequivocal command, but it was said with complete calm, almost to the point of indifference. The only thing that stopped Dean was the sheer force of Castiel's dominance, which suddenly seemed to seep into the surroundings even more than before, forcing him to bow his head.
The sensation was unpleasant, as if he was once again being held by the back of his head and forced into submission, but this time it wasn't a real hand. It was only ghostly, and yet he lowered his head and looked beneath it, swallowing hard.
"I'm in no mood to hear any more of your lies and manipulations. I'm tired of it.
Tired and disgusted with the way I tiptoe around you, the way I try to make you happy, and the way you don't appreciate my efforts at all. I wanted us to be equals, but I see that my brothers were right. Obviously, that approach doesn't work and never will. You're an Omega, and if you don't have a steady hand, you'll never do what you're supposed to do; take care of this den and our puppy," he sounded more to himself than to Dean. "Give me your phone."
"What?" He looked up at him.
"There will be no more conversations with your brother, and certainly not with that Alpha you're fucking with!" He bared his golden fang.
"I told you I'd never-"
"Zamolchi!" He ordered and Dean obeyed without blinking, not even knowing how or why it happened. "Your phone."
He reached into his pocket, or rather his hand reached into his pocket itself, and again, without even realizing how, he placed his cphone into Alpha's outstretched hand. His heart was pounding and something inside of him was screaming that he didn't have to do this, but a bigger part of him just wanted to listen to the Alpha because he was his Alpha. It was almost like... no, it wasn't like the Alpha's voice, but it was damn close, and while the Sun Hill Node was making him do something that disgusted him to the core, handing over his phone was... It wasn't horrible enough for him to find it in himself to resist.
"From now on, you will do what every good Omega should do. I never want to hear the word 'no' from you again. You will learn to cook, you will dress decently to represent me, and you will only go where I tell you to go and when I tell you to go. And you will never leave this apartment alone again," he finally added. "Now I have to get back to the job I had to leave for you.I'll be back at ten.
I expect food on the table and your ass in bed."
He didn't mean it the way it sounded. He just couldn't. Hell, no!
"You can't ask me to do that! Not like that! I won't do it!" It wasn't a matter of wanting to resist, but of fear that clenched his insides in pain. Castiel wasn't going to force him to do this. He couldn't. He wasn't that kind of man... no, he was exactly that kind of man. Dean had seen that painfully clearly yesterday.
"I'm going to knot you tonight. It'll either be the good way, and then you'll enjoy it, or the bad way. As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter how it happens," he said with complete calm, not even his scent betraying that he was upset. It was calm, a mixture of baked cherries with an almond bitterness running underneath, and that was what was most frightening. More frightening than the slap, the growl, and the bitter rage. It was the ruthlessness that assured Dean that the Alpha would do exactly what he said and feel no remorse, because people like him never did.
"Alpha... Cas... you can't do this. Please, I... I won't break the rules anymore, I won't write to Sonny anymore, and I won't even talk about Sam living with us anymore, but... don't make me do this. If you..." The words died on his tongue. He was about to say the dumbest thing in the world. He wanted to say that if the Alpha loved him, he wouldn't do this to him, but then he realized how stupid that was. And naive. It might have looked like Castiel loved him for a while, but of course he didn't.
"If I... what?" the Alpha asked, squinting his eyes questioningly, which was kind of ridiculous. Because he looked so normal.
"Nothing, nothing at all," he replied in a neutral voice, or at least he hoped it sounded that way, and moved his gaze to the glass lying on the table.
"Believe me, I didn't want this to happen, Dean, but you left me no choice. Everything that happens is your fault. I didn't ask much of you.Just that you respect me, trust me, don't lie to me, don't cheat on me, and don't put yourself in danger by running around town alone. Think if it was worth it for you," was the last thing he said before he walked past Dean to the door.
Dean didn't answer or move for a moment after he heard the apartment door close. Only then did he turn to look at the stairs. For a moment, he thought about running, but then he dismissed the possibility. It was unlikely that Castiel would just leave his card on the shoe rack. He knew he'd put it there, and he wasn't stupid enough not to take it with him. And without the map, he had no chance of getting out of the apartment.
Instead of trying to run, he just grabbed a glass off the counter and pulled the first full bottle he could get his hands on out of the cupboard. Hopefully, after a few shots, he'd at least get rid of the pain in his stomach. That was about the only thing he could try to influence in his life, because the rest was planned by someone else.
Chapter 78
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He relaxed and exhaled the smoke and leaned back against the comfortable cushions of the wide sofa, watching Eric swing his ass around the bar from under his closed eyelids. The muscles in his calves tensed, his thighs and muscled chest glistened slightly from the sequins he had painted on his skin with the chocolate-scented oil, and the ropes of strong muscles on his arms played with every seductive curve of his back. Eric was his favorite stripper. He had the body of an Adonis, the face of an angel, eyes as blue as the summer sky, and blond hair. And his skin was almost flawless. No freckles or scars...
His Alpha grumbled something dissatisfied as he returned to his Omega, which washed the satisfied smile off Castiel's face and brought an uncomfortable feeling of dissatisfaction at the sight of Erik's body. It was far too perfect. He was too much like a statue, whereas Dean... Dean was handsome, the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, but he wasn't perfect. Not only his face, but also his shoulders and arms were adorned with constellations of bright freckles that lit up every time Dean blushed. He had several small scars on his knees from falls and others on his hands and elbows. And the way the Omega moved, especially the way he could never sit still, exuded a kind of raw energy that Eric simply lacked. His dance was perfect, graceful and seductive. Nothing like Dean...
Damn Omega! He was still full head of him. He constantly had to ask himself if what he had done and said today was the right decision. No, Dean couldn't get away scot-free, because his behavior was not only dangerous, but also disrespectful and could easily lead to Castiel losing respect if Omega continued. Who wants to take orders from an Alpha who can't even tame his own Omega? But perhaps it was too harsh to try to force Dean into the role of orderly Omega, even at home. Castiel didn't even want to. He had never dealt with Omegas like that, and he didn't want his Omega to be like them, but what choice did he have? He didn't want much from Dean. He wanted his trust. He wanted him to be the first person Dean would go to when he needed help, and for a while he thought he was. When Dean had faced Alastair, he had sought refuge and help from Castiel, but not this time. Why was that? What had changed? Why had Omega stopped trusting him?
Maybe it was what had happened at Sun Hill. Maybe Dean was under the impression that he'd let the poor imitation Alpha get away, but that was just an illusion. Evans was in the hands of not only the Brotherhood members themselves, but their allies as well, and he was getting exactly what he deserved. But Dean couldn't see that directly. Giving him proof that the human scum he'd allowed to touch him was suffering horribly might be what convinced Omega that Castiel would protect him again. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.
"Not having fun, Alpha?" Erik's sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.
Looking up at him, he realized that he'd completely stopped paying attention to his dancing and somehow accidentally pulled Dean's apartment card out of his pocket, turning it thoughtfully in his fingers. So he shoved it back and met Eric's gaze.
He should stop thinking about Dean all the time and try to relax a little. Granted, Gabriel said that no matter how relaxed he got, he still acted like he had an iron bar stuck up his ass, and there was probably some truth in that, but even he could let off steam. In fact, he needed a clear head, unencumbered by thoughts of an unnamed Omega, to continue his dealings with the Albanians.
He grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor between his ankles.
"Come here, kotenok."
Without hesitation, Beta stepped down from the small, low platform and knelt on the prepared cushion. Then he lifted a willing smile to Castiel, and when Castiel buried his hand in his hair, he lowered his head and let him stroke his softly curling golden locks. And his faint Beta scent, a bit like vanilla pudding, filled him with contentment. Erik may have been dancing, sucking cock, and adjusting his ass for money, but he was definitely enjoying it and savoring every minute they ever spent together.
"You like it, da? You like my big cock in your mouth, right?"
"Yes, Alpha," Eric crooned, giving one of his professional shy looks, but the whiff of arousal Castiel caught despite the chocolate oil and the ever-present distant smell of disinfectant and ozone from the air purifiers... it gave him away.
Castiel's corners lifted in a smile, despite his Alpha's disapproving growl reminding him that this was not his Omega. He pushed it to the back of his mind in favor of the feeling that anything he wanted to do to Eric was welcome and wanted. And that the Beta would enjoy it without the feelings of fear that seeped out of Dean's skin all too often.
"In that case, take what you want and what you so desperately need," he urged Erik, spreading his legs a little wider and throwing his arms out, his gaze fixed on the young man kneeling between his legs from beneath the closed lids.
"Thank you, Alpha," Beta replied immediately, licking his lips and reaching for Castiel's pants.
He was quick and good at it, as always. It didn't take long for Castiel's head to be pleasantly free of all distractions as he sank deep into the warm wetness around his cock and the satisfied sounds Eric made as he took his cock deep into his throat. Nice, full length, expertly and without hesitation all the way to the base, including the swollen and hardening knot. And when Castiel buried his hand in his hair, forcing him to take the knot by the teeth just before it swelled rapidly and jammed into Eric's mouth, Beta didn't make a sound of protest. He willingly swallowed every drop that Castiel poured into his throat and mouth. He sucked and stroked the sensitive spot at the base of the knot with his tongue, and the only concession he made for his comfort was to rest his cheek against Castiel's thigh. His lips were obscenely tight and his jaw was wide open, and that, Castiel knew from personal experience, wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, but instead of fear or discomfort, he simply lifted his hand and placed it on his knee, running his thumb in small circles over his thigh.
Castiel looked down at Beta and sincerely wished that Dean was in his place, but he doubted that would ever happen. There was a knock at the lounge door. Probably a waitress with another gin and tonic.
So he downed what little was left in one gulp, then said:
"Come in!"
When the door opened, however, it wasn't a waitress, but Pyotr, who immediately froze, his gaze drifting to Beta kneeling between Castiel's legs.
"I'm sorry. I'll come back later," the hulking Beta said hurriedly, turning to leave when Castiel stopped him.
"If it's anything important, just talk. This will take a while."
It was obvious how the Lieutenant hesitated and gave Eric another strange look. There was the usual embarrassment Pyotr felt when confronted directly with Castiel's tendencies, which he disapproved of and which, as he had once said in his drunkenness, were "against the laws of God," but there was something else.
Something Castiel couldn't identify, and though he instinctively sucked in the air to try to catch its scent, all he got was the smell of strong cologne and a hint of rotten fish.
"The Albanians have spoken again," Pyotr switched to Russian, which of course Erik did not understand. "Frankie offered to sell us the van for one and a half million, but he'll do it now. He suggested a meeting tonight at midnight, and he chose a neutral place."
That was half a million more than Sadik wanted, except Sadik just wanted to drag the whole situation out, pretending that he was reluctant to sell and that he wasn't even sure the quality was what the Brotherhood wanted. He knew that the longer he prolonged the sale, the more nervous their customers would get and that some would find more 'reliable' suppliers and thus the Bratva would lose future profits.
Frankie might have charged more - Castiel was sure he would pocket the difference -- but they would have the guns now and could resell them.
Little did the two Albanians know that Castiel had no intention of paying them a broken pea.
"Tell him we agree, and then make sure our men are ready.
We'll take back what those Albanian rats took from us and avenge our brothers."
"Of course, batyushka," Pyotr nodded, his expression appreciative and very much in agreement.
"You may go." He gestured with his hand to let him go, but then decided to add something else, "And my friend... I will go with you. I expect you to stand by my side."
"As always, boss," Pyotr assured him before leaving.
With a sigh, Castiel sank more comfortably into the sofa and looked down at Beta, whose blue eyes followed him.
°°0°°
One of the Albanians lifted the lid of the crate, fished out several kitschy statues of chubby little angels from the wooden padding, then pulled out the false bottom to reveal a quartet of gun cases. Castiel pulled one out and opened it. Inside was a SIG, model X-Five Supermatch, the most expensive gun they had in the van. On the legal market it was priced between four and five thousand, and on the black market it was well over six thousand. You just had to pay extra for an anonymous purchase. Anyway, it was an expensive, higher-end gun for which they had a limited customer base, which is why there were only ten of them in the van. But it was beautiful, and the first thought that crossed Castiel's mind as he took it out of its case and held it up to his eyes was that Dean would surely like it. Besides, he'd seen several SIGs in Dean's gun bag, and Omega had one in his bedside table as well. It seemed to be his favorite brand.
"Nice, isn't it?" said Frankie.
"Yeah, it's a good gun," he replied neutrally, putting it back in the case and closing it. Then he motioned for Boris to show the Albanian Beta the contents of the bag they had brought. A glance at the neatly arranged bundles of money, tied together with simple white bank tape and stacked in the new bag, brought not only a satisfied smile to Frankie's face, but more importantly, it gave him the appropriate amount of comfort. And then, as he looked up at Castiel and reached out to shake his hand, it was clear that he was not only satisfied, but a little self-satisfied. He thought he had matured not only on Sadik, but also on Bratva, and Castiel was not going to take that conviction away from him. He wanted and needed Beta to be inattentive until the very last moment.
"It was great doing business with you," Frankie said amiably.
" Da. It was my pleasure too," he nodded, accepting the proffered hand, his eyes gliding past Beta's shoulder to the two men. That was the condition. Each could only take two men and one gun, and the transfer took place aboard an old freighter that was ripe for scrapping, but no one had bothered to dispose of it yet, so it was rotting in the dock. A perfect location in the sense that everyone's cars were far away and the deck was vast and empty, so there was no hiding place for reinforcements. What there was, however, was a nearby storage shed.
Castiel cocked his head to the side and gripped Frankie's hand a little tighter. Not enough to cause him pain, but enough for the Beta to feel it and look at their joined hands with concern.
"That's why I want to give you something extra. A gift...a token of friendship and appreciation."
"That sounds good. What is it?" asked Beta, still trying to sound casual to friendly, but it was obvious that his uncertainty was growing as he leaned away a little, subtly trying to get his hand out of Castiel's grasp.
"You will meet your beloved departed," he said, letting go of the tight chain holding his inner Alpha. Alpha growled loudly, Castiel's lips pulling back to reveal fangs that had slipped from his gums, and a blood-red gushed into his vision.
There was that delicious, warm feeling of the Alpha's instincts taking over his body.
His senses sharpened and every muscle in his body tensed.
And then, as he moved forward, grabbing his prey by the neck and twisting his head to the side so he could sink his fangs into its throat, it was a bit like being controlled by someone else. Something both darker and more natural than his own dark mind and heart, where there was no room for conscience or mercy.
A stream of blood filled his mouth and warm liquid, tasting of iron and salt, poured from the corners of his mouth and soaked his shirt. He could feel the wet heat and his nose filled with not only the smell of horror and the ghostly taste of the eggs Beta stank of, but also the stench of piss and shit the dying Albanian had stuffed down his pants. Frankie's last grunts and screams from the remaining Albanians and Castiel's own men reached his ears, along with a series of gunshots and the sound of bodies falling.
Castiel was only partially aware of it. He barely noticed that the shooting had stopped, and was only dimly aware that those left standing were Pyotr and Boris. He enjoyed the feeling of sinking his teeth deep into someone's throat, but he knew he couldn't stay that way forever.
Eventually he had to let go of his prey's grip on his jaw, and even then he looked up to see the remaining two Albanians, both already on the ground. Even in the dim light, he could see that one had a gash in his head, a gift from Golem who had fired from the roof of a nearby storage shed, and the other had several wounds in his chest. It was impossible to tell exactly how many, but his shirt was covered in blood and torn. There could have been half a dozen.
He reluctantly let go of the now completely lifeless body. It hit the metal deck with a loud thud, and Castiel looked down at it disinterestedly. In the light of the distant lamps scattered sparsely around the pier and the few stars that had found a gap in the clouds and smog, the blood that oozed from Beta's torn throat and flowed between the leaking metal plates was black as ink. It was satisfying to watch the stain grow and soak Frankie's hair. It was the best way to solve the problem and let everyone know that no one would mess with the Russians, especially Castiel. His Alpha grunted in agreement. This was a victory, and he was the one who had won it for his pack. And it felt damn good. Finally, after days of everything boiling inside him, he felt calm and serene again.
"Boss..." Pyotr addressed him
Slowly he turned to him, tilted his head to the side and snarled questioningly, but slightly irritated. His lieutenant had interrupted him unnecessarily early in his enjoyment of his dead prey, and what was more, when Castiel was already paying attention to him, instead of saying something, he just remained silent and stared at him with something very similar to concern.
"Um... your teeth..." the burly Beta finally spoke, raising his hand to show his mouth.
Castiel frowned, confused at first, before realizing that his fangs were still out and his eyes were probably still red.
He flexed his lower jaw, concentrating on letting his fang slip back into his gum. Even after so many years with the artificial fang, it still felt strange to have to concentrate on hiding his fang because his brain hadn't quite adjusted to not having any muscles in his gums to move. It was a lot like phantom pain, only less uncomfortable and only a little distracting when he tried to retract his remaining fang.
"Good...?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, lifting his upper lip a little to show Beta his teeth; Pyotr nodded in agreement. "Good. We've done that. Treat their bodies," he nodded his head somewhere vaguely towards the corpses, "the same way they treated the bodies of our men. Then move the cargo and clean this place up a bit," he ordered, his eyes wandering to the open crate and, more importantly, to the SIG case lying on the corner of it. He didn't do it very often, but this time he decided to take his share and picked up the case with the gun. It would be the perfect gift for his Omega. And also something like a small apology for being unnecessarily strict the last days, because as he realized now, with a clear head and his Alpha soothed by his victory, he could have handled his arguments with Dean a little more... gently. And a little gift would be a good start.
"Do you need a doctor?" Pyotr surprised him with the question.
He turned to him, tilted his head to the side questioningly and raised an eyebrow.
"You're bleeding," Beta informed him.
Castiel looked down at his clothes. The front of his shirt and jacket were soaked with Frankie's blood, and there was certainly blood on his face, hands, and arms. None of it was his blood, of course, so he looked up to reassure his man that he was okay, but Pyotr beat him to it.
"On your right side."
He looked again, and only then did he notice the stain just above the waistband of his pants, and especially the torn fabric of his shirt.
Pyotr was right. He was wounded and didn't even feel it. He frowned slightly and pulled up his shirt, revealing a superficial wound about four inches long, running from front to back, just above the pelvic bones that hugged the waistband of his pants. It was obviously a gunshot wound that had almost hit him.
"I didn't even notice."
"It doesn't look serious," Beta said, stepping closer and examining the wound, "but it would need at least a bandage."
"Yes, and I need to clean up before I go home. I don't want to scare Dean unnecessarily," he pointed at his bloody clothes. "What about your apartment?"
"My apartment?" Pyotr repeated in surprise.
"Yes," he nodded with a smile, his eyes squinting a little and a mostly satisfied but also slightly amused growl escaping his throat, and put a hand on Beta's shoulder. "We've known each other for two years, my friend, and I've never been to your home. I'm interested in how you live. You should invite me."
"Sure... yeah, boss. I'd like to invite you to my home," the burly Beta replied quickly.
Castiel smiled and patted him on the shoulder.
"Let's go then. We'll have a drink and talk," he concluded, striding toward the bridge.
Notes:
kotenok - it literally means "kitten", but in this context it can be translated as "baby".
The chapter is short because I wanted to keep the topic whole. Let's have a long author's note instead, okay? 😃
This isn't the first time Castiel has cheated on Dean. The first time was right after the Mercedes incident. Castiel went to Blue Sky to see Balthazar (which is probably why Balthazar thinks Castiel will come back to him). I didn't describe it in detail then because I didn't want to prolong the story, but because I didn't, speculation arose as to whether or not Castiel went to see Balthazar. So this time I've described it so there's no more speculation.
No, Castiel has no remorse, and he doesn't feel hypocritical. He just lives in an environment where if the partner/wife/omega doesn't satisfy the partner/husband/alpha's needs, he can find distraction elsewhere and no one will judge him. Of course the reverse doesn't work. If Dean found someone else... well, let's just say very unpleasant things would happen.
True Mates - In this universe, it's not some mystical connection that makes people who are perfect matches find each other and love each other and be happy together for the rest of their lives. In this universe, it's a pheromone compatibility designed to bring Alpha and Omega together so they can have healthy, strong, genetically diverse puppies together. Yes, it brings with it certain urges to spend time with your Mate, but it doesn't mean that one of the Mates can't also sleep with someone else. But yes, it's true that Dean has lost his sexual interest in others, and to some extent Castiel being his Mate is a factor in that, but mostly it's Dean's nature.People kill each other in this universe in all the ways we know from the real world, but it's common for Alphas to rip someone's throat out. That's why pissing off an Alpha is generally considered a bad idea.
Whereas in the real world it takes a while for someone to beat you with their fists or have to find a weapon to do it, here it's a matter of ten seconds before an Alpha bites through your throat. Omegas can actually do the same thing, but unlike Alphas, they're not aggressive.
Interestingly, Alpha saliva contains "white blood cells on steroids". Under laboratory conditions, they are able to deal with very dangerous pathogens such as smallpox, Ebola, and HIV. This doesn't mean that Alphas are immune to these diseases (although it is true that they are generally healthier and more vital than Betas), only that they are very unlikely to contract a disease when they bite someone. And that Alpha bites, especially Mating bites, heal well and have little risk of infection. (A rejected mating is not an inflammation caused by a bacterial infection, but a reaction of the Omega's immune system to the Alpha's saliva itself).
The medicinal properties of Alpha saliva have been known since ancient times. As a result, Alpha saliva and crushed Alpha fangs have been sold as a cure for a variety of diseases and as a means of beautification. Of course, in the vast majority of cases, it didn't work. Alpha saliva can be used for healing, but it must be fresh or properly stored. For example, if someone has an inflamed leg wound and finds an Alpha to spit into the wound once a day for two or three weeks, there is a real chance that the wound will heal well. But know that it is much more convenient to go to the doctor. 😃
Chapter 79
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The warm weight snapped him out of his sleep. He reacted before he could open his eyes and his brain could really kick in, reaching under his pillow for his knife and swinging it with a belligerent growl at the intruder that had invaded his nest. A whiff of roasted cherries with honey and almonds, an intoxicating and beloved scent, tickled his nose and stopped his hand just before he could sink the blade into Castiel's throat. Still, the metal touched Alpha's throat, and he let out a surprised but oddly not angry growl.
Dean blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust more quickly to the darkness, and sucked in air. He could taste Castiel's heavy scent, full of hints of honey and odd amusement, and then also enriched by the smell of alcohol, a few Beta smells - one of them was definitely Pyotr - pickles and fish, cigarettes, and then... somewhere deep in the mix, a hint of old blood. It was this that caused Dean to drop his hand a little, which the Alpha immediately took advantage of and kissed him.
It was a hungry but drunkenly uncoordinated kiss in which not only their lips but also their teeth met, and Castiel dug his fingers rather roughly into Dean's hair.
At that moment, two equally strong but very conflicting feelings welled up inside Dean. One was the warning voice that this was wrong. The Alpha was drunk, and if this was going to happen tonight, he didn't want Castiel to even remember it because his brain was drowning in alcohol. On the other hand, there was his Omega, whimpering excitedly because the Alpha was paying attention to him again, and finally, Dean himself was stupidly desperate, starving for kisses and touches.
Finally, he gave up. He dropped the knife, which immediately slid down his side onto the bed, wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders and began to kiss him back. And he was dizzy. Or maybe it was the half bottle of liquor he'd had earlier. Either way, he had his Alpha with him for the moment, and everything in him was flushed with the excitement of being wanted and loved again.
"Din," Castiel crooned in his ear as he broke their kiss and set his lips on a journey down Dean's jaw and neck. "Ya skuchal po tebe, lyubimyy... moy sladkiy..." the Alpha murmured Russian nonsense in his ear, spinning like a giant cat as he did so.
Fuck this! Dean knew he should be angry with him, but to have him here in his arms like this... No! He broke off in thought, resisting the damn pull of Tru Mates. And then he put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pushed him away.
"Stop it. You're drunk," he said in a voice hoarse from sleep and probably kissing, frowning at the outline of Alpha's face, only partially lit by the starlight coming through the blinds. Still, he could see clearly as he squinted his eyes and tilted his head.
"Are you angry?" He asked, a strange question that made Dean's heart race for who knew why.
Was he angry? Damn right he was! Castiel had been a complete asshole. He said and did things that Dean knew were unforgivable, and he wasn't just talking about what he'd seen yesterday in Blue Sky, but at the same time, it was so hard not to forgive. Especially now that the Alpha was here with him and he felt important to him again. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stay angry with Case forever, just as he hadn't been able to leave him, but after last night he should at least tell him that he was angry.
"Yeah... Yeah, I am. You said some horrible shit and you hit me. So yeah, I'm mad at you. How could I not be?"
"I'm sorry, dorogoy," Castiel half interrupted, sounding so genuinely guilty that it made Dean's stomach clench. "I'm sorry for being such a jealous ublyudok," he continued just as guiltily, pulling Dean's hand to his and beginning to shower kisses with the knuckles of his fingers, literally caressing his hand. "I can't help it... you drive me crazy... You're moy, and I can't lose you, ty znayesh'? If you ever leave me," he said seriously and the look he gave Dean was dangerous even in the dim light, "terrible things will happen."
Alpha's tone and words sent an icy shiver down Dean's spine and his stomach turned. Part of it was fear, because it was hard not to be afraid when you knew what Alpha was capable of, and therefore what was behind his words. A large part of it was the familiar thrill and feeling that this truly dangerous, literally murderous Alpha was the only one who could protect him and his puppies. Yeah, there was just something wrong with Dean, some badly connected wires or something. He was aware of it, but somehow he didn't have the energy to fight it anymore and try to maintain some semblance of normalcy.
"I can't live in a cage, okay? If you're going to lock me in here, I'd rather die than stay locked up," he said, and yeah, dude. Let's do this. Be a real melodramatic Omega, Winchester, because that's not embarrassing or stupid at all.
"Net. I don't want you locked up, moy Din," Alpha breathed close to his face, his voice urgent and his breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. "I don't want to, but if you don't respect me... if you keep leaving me... what choice do I have? You're mine and I won't let you take you away!" He growled belligerently, golden fang gleaming in the starlight.
There was an urgency in Alpha's words that played on Dean's instincts and set his inner Omega in motion. And the sour scent that wafted through the air assured him that he hadn't been wrong in his hunch. Castiel was afraid. He really was afraid that Dean was going to leave him, and maybe it wasn't just Alpha possessiveness.Just the stupid behavior of a jealous Knot.
The realization spurred him on, and this time he wrapped his arms around Case's back, not to kiss him, but to pull him down onto his chest and bury his head in the crook of his neck.
The Alpha tensed in his grip at first, but that didn't deter Dean. Alpha idiots always put up a little fight. So he pressed his head uncompromisingly against his chest and the air began to fill with the soothing, sweet Omega scent as for once his body did what he really wanted it to do. And it had exactly the right effect. The Alpha in his arms relaxed, literally melted, dug his fingers into Dean's ribs and began to breathe deeply. With each breath, the sour fear receded, replaced by the sweet scent of honey and roasted cherries.
"I'm not going anywhere, you idiot," Dean said, now sure that his Alpha had calmed down and was listening and hopefully even aware. "But..." he hesitated a little, knowing that everything he was about to say would make the Alpha very angry, but on the other hand... so what? His head was still light and his tongue heavy, which made talking about all this emotional shit a lot easier. "You've been acting like a fucking asshole lately. You've been doing and saying horrible things, hitting me for nothing, locking me in here and taking my phone. You can't expect me to take that lying down, can you? I'm an Omega, but not like that. If you want an Omega like that, I'm really not a good choice."
"I know," Castiel said into his chest, then stood up. "I don't want an Omega like that. I want you, moy sladkiy. But I can't let you do whatever you want. I can't tolerate the way you've been acting the last few days. I would lose the respect of my men.
Do you understand?"
"Yeah... yeah... da, I understand Cas. It's just..." He placed his hand on Castiel's cheek, "Cas... I... I know you don't like Sam, but he's my little brother. I'll never be...happy without him," he finally said.
Despite the lack of light, he could see a wrinkle forming between Alpha's eyebrows.
"Is that why you acted the way you did? Because of your brother?"
"Yes. I miss him. I've never been away from him for so long."
All that stuff came out of Dean without him even knowing how. Mean, he probably knew, probably the alcohol coursing through his veins and probably the warm feeling that his Alpha wanted him again. It loosened his tongue, even though he knew how angry the Alpha got every time he talked about Sam. He was sure it would happen this time, which was why he was surprised to catch just a hint of displeasure and bitterness in Castiel's scent. Maybe it was because Cas was a little drunk, too, or something else entirely. But he certainly seemed a lot more approachable than he had been in days. More... more like the Alpha he knew.
"He can't live with us. We wouldn't get along. I'd have to back down a lot, and even if I was willing to do that... there's no way I could legally get custody of him. I'm not a US citizen."
"But I could," Dean blurted out, mostly surprised that Cas was willing to talk about it, and also determined to take advantage of the situation. "I could... eman-cipate myself and become Sam's foster parent, but first you'd have to give up Alpha custody. And I'd have to have a place to live, a job, money, and prove that I could take care of Sam on my own."
Castiel was silent, his gaze long and pensive on the window. Dean held his breath, wondering if it was a good idea to blurt it out right now, but only the Alpha seemed willing to listen right now, so he took advantage. Damn it! It was probably their only chance, and even if they had gotten really weird about it, he'd be a fool to pass it up.
"Khoroshiy," Castiel finally said as he looked at Dean again, his tone so deliberate that it brought hope to Dean's heart. "I want you to be happy, and I'll do anything to make that happen, but this isn't easy. I'll think about it, vozlyublennyy. But for now... I have something for you... a gift."
The Alpha may have changed the subject, but the hope he had instilled in Dean was still strong, and so not only could he no longer be angry with Case, but he even felt curious and a bit stupidly excited that the Alpha had something for him. Castiel giving him gifts was the Alpha he knew. His Alpha. And that actually strengthened the certainty that Castiel was actually thinking of Sam and the hope that he might agree.
So it was actually no problem to be impatiently excited when the Alpha rolled over to the edge of the bed to light one of the lamps and then reached down for something lying on the floor. Dean pulled himself up to a sitting position - his damned, aching stomach protested, so he ran his hand over it a few times - and craned his neck to see what Cas had pulled out from behind the edge of the bed.
"What's this?" he asked when Cas finally placed the red gift bag in front of him.
"Look," he prompted, a small smug smile on his face and his eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
Dean reached into the bag and pulled out a black gun case. It looked new, as if it had just rolled off the assembly line, and the gun inside was probably new, too. Well, he certainly didn't have to pretend anymore, and the excitement about the new gun had completely replaced any anger he had felt towards Castiel. If only because the Alpha had given him a gift, and his Omega took that as a good sign and reassurance that the Alpha wasn't angry anymore. And that made Dean stupidly happy.
The latches clicked as he unlocked them, and the case opened with ease, revealing to Dean's eyes...shit! It was a SIG Sauer P226 X-Five Supermatch! He'd seen them on the Internet, but never thought he'd own one. It was quite an expensive thing. Sure, not the most expensive, but it wasn't a gun you could just pick up at a pawnshop. It was just... fucking awesome! And beautiful! All modern lines, special finish, lightened trigger, sport-military sights...
Damn it!
Perhaps a little awkwardly, he pulled the gun out of its soft foam bed and fumbled with it in his hands, inspecting it from all sides before lifting the barrel against the opposite wall and taking aim. He could tell by the weight that the magazine was missing, but even without it the gun was balanced and fit well in his hand.
"Like it?" Castiel chimed in.
"Hell, yeah!" He nodded enthusiastically, turning to meet Alpha's smug, but mostly genuinely pleased smile. His eyes were warm, his eyelids half-dropped, and the lines around his mouth were deep, like the Grand Canyon. He looked like a big, happy cat.
"Come here and show me you're not mad at me anymore," he replied, digging his fingers into Dean's hair and trying to pull him to him with a gentle but uncompromising pressure. Dean didn't give in. Maybe he wasn't as mad at Case as he had been before, and maybe the Alpha was himself again, but there was still one thing they had to work out.
"Wait." He pulled his hand out of his hair, intertwined their fingers, and pulled their joined hands together to keep the Alpha from grabbing him again. "You still have my phone and my apartment card. I want them back."
Though the Alpha narrowed his eyes in irritation and hesitated a bit, he finally reached into his pocket and pulled out the two things he'd asked for. Dean quickly put the gun aside and grabbed his phone. And the first thing he did, like a fool, was to check the chat with Sam, because there should be a notification about a new message. A message that unfortunately never came. And Sam hadn't been online since they'd parted ways shortly before noon today.
"Dean...?" Cas addressed him with the usual interest that had been so lacking the last few days.
He looked up quickly and this time saw the question in his eyes.
"It's nothing. Nothing interesting," he said quickly, careful not to mention Sam again or the concern he now had for him. It was good that Castiel was willing to think about Sam, no need to tease him now. So he dropped his phone somewhere near the gun, the briefcase fell from his lap, and Dean followed right behind, and before Castiel could even raise an eyebrow, Dean slid into his lap and put his hands on his shoulders, his tattoos, and his scent glands.
"Just because you acted like a dick and pissed me off doesn't mean I don't miss you, you know?" He replied to Alpha's slightly surprised expression.
Cas made an amused sound in response, his lips curling into a smile as he put his hands on his hips. Dean leaned forward and kissed him at the same time.
°°0°°
There was a searing heat all around him, as if everything was on fire and the flames were already licking at his heels. Sweat broke out on his cheeks and ran down his back. He felt like he was in hell. And then there was the damn pain, like someone had stuck a knife in his back and it had found its way all the way through his lower abdomen and into his stomach.
He opened his eyes sharply.
He was lying in Castiel's bed, his arm loosely around his waist, warm breath tickling the back of his neck. Alpha's comforting scent was everywhere, soaking into the sheets and spreading across the bed, and his radiant warmth told Dean it was all a dream.
Though not quite. He felt hot and wet all over, especially between his butt cheeks, and his damn stomach was aching again. And he was hot. Terribly hot, and it wasn't because Cas liked his bedroom a lot warmer than what Dean was used to in motels, where the heat was often more for show in the winter. He felt almost as overheated as he had during the heat, but it was different. More like a fever from being sick or something. Anyway, he needed a cold shower to cool down and then a warm one for his aching back and stomach.
First he carefully removed Cas' hand, which the Alpha only commented on with a grunt and a roll onto his back, but fortunately he didn't wake up.
Then he threw back the blanket and stiffened.
The faint light of the first rays of sunlight hit the black, wet spot at the crotch of his pants, and a rush of fresh, yet somehow unidentifiable, dead blood hit his nose. He stared at the blood, and of course he knew what it was, but... shit, how was that even possible?! His days weren't supposed to come at all if he wasn't heating. This was shit. What the hell was he going to do now? He made a big mess, but not in a motel bed where he could have just thrown the sheets in a dumpster and turned the mattress over and pretended nothing ever happened. He made a mess of Castiel's bed. Not only that, but Alpha was right next to him, and the last thing Dean wanted was for him to see that trigger. Hell, he didn't even want him to know that a shark had bitten him in the ass. That wasn't something he wanted to share with him because... dude, it was damn embarrassing.
A sharp intake of breath and movement at his side caught his attention. Sure, Cas could smell the blood, now that the scent was everywhere, and of course he couldn't miss the movement, because maybe he'd come in drunk last night, but again, not so much that he'd lost consciousness completely. The lingering bitter taste of his cum that Dean could taste on his tongue made it clear that he was at most a little toasted. So now he's going to wake up, this is what he's going to see...
Fuck it!
He couldn't think of anything else to do but quickly roll out of bed, almost knocking over the SIG case next to his bed, and run into the bathroom. Using the door as a wall between himself and Alpha, he quickly landed on the toilet bowl.
The sight of his own briefs was like looking at the scene of a mass murder.
He'd never seen so much dead smelly blood, and both the smell and the sight made him dizzy and faint for some mysterious reason.
"Dean?" Came from behind the door, half questioning, but mostly concerned.
"Don't come in here!" He yelled in panic, but it was too late.
He'd forgotten to lock the door behind him, so Cas just opened it and walked in.
"There's blood on the bed. What's...oh..." he paused mid-sentence and mid-step, wearing a look that Dean would have enjoyed at any other time, because it was uncertainty and embarrassment, but he was in no mood for it this time. The shame of Castiel seeing him like this was all he could focus on. He felt so damn vulnerable and small, even more so in front of an Alpha like Castiel, sitting there on the toilet with his bloody underpants on his knees. And as usual, when he felt defenseless, all he could do was snarl and grit his teeth at Case.
"I told you not to come in here!" He barked at him, not caring about the consequences. As soon as they had made up, Cas threatened to get angry again.
But he didn't. Instead, he relaxed his shoulders, tilted his head a little, revealing his neck with the fading mark Dean had made there a few days ago, and started to back out of the bathroom.
"I'll be outside," he said finally, before taking the last step, walking out and closing the door behind him.
Dean was alone in the huge, brightly lit bathroom. He could hear not only the hum of the air conditioner, but also the larger fan that had turned on automatically to more efficiently remove the moisture from the bathroom, but neither could suck out the bloody smell. It was too strong, and the briefs he was wearing were ripe for the garbage. That wasn't his biggest problem. The biggest problem - right after Castiel had seen him in that situation - was that he had no pads and simply nothing he could use. Yeah, Sonny had bought him a pack, but Dean had left it in his old room, figuring that since he wasn't heating, he wouldn't need it. And the other problem was that he couldn't get anything in his condition. He'd be right behind it like a giant snail.
There was only one option...
Sighing and laughing together, he put his head in his hands. Just great! As the icing on the cake of his fucked up life, he would now have to ask the Russian mob boss to go to the store to get some pads, and he would probably have to beg him not to send any of his men there. But he had no other choice. He hated his life.
"Alpha... Cas... can you come here?" He called, his voice skipping over the damn shame.
The door opened and Alpha stood inside, looking completely normal. Nothing, not even a twitch in his features or an undertone in his scent betrayed that he was angry or ashamed, and his warm blue eyes were fixed directly on Dean's face. Almost politely, as if he didn't want to embarrass him by looking lower. That calmed Dean down a bit and gave him courage.
"I... um... need help."
Castiel cocked his head questioningly and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't have any... you know... things I need right now because... I didn't see this coming. Not after the suppressants and not even having heat. I need you to get something..." Somehow his voice failed him at the end of the sentence or something.
"Okay."
Dean blinked in surprise. Okay? Just okay? No talking around, no astonishment or rejection? Okay, that was fine. He hadn't really expected it, because Castiel didn't seem like the type to be okay with all this, but apparently he was. But really, why was he surprised? His Alpha could be incredibly surprising at times, while at other times he was such a stupid, retarded Knot.
"What should I buy?" Cas asked after a short silence.
Oh yes... that's how it was. He didn't really know what this was about or what Dean wanted him to do.
This was going to be very awkward.
"Well, just stuff... what I need now... you know... pads," he forced himself to say the last word as clearly as he could despite all the shame he felt.
This time, Cas reacted more as expected, rolling his eyes with a sigh before looking at Dean with that familiar condescension he showed whenever Dean said something the Alpha thought was stupid or childish. At the same time, there was a certain amount of weariness in that look, which wasn't really surprising. Cas wasn't much of an early riser, and he couldn't really wake up without his coffee and cigarette.
"I know what menstruation is and what pads are. I didn't grow up in a cave, and Russia isn't some backward, icy wasteland where people still plough with a plow, as many Westerners still think," he replied almost reproachfully, but definitely impatiently. "I want to know exactly what to buy. Some type or brand... I know there are dozens."
"Well... the ones for Omega men...?" He said with a little question mark at the end. "I mean... I never really thought about it. I buy the cheapest stuff."
"Okay," Cas said with ridiculous determination before turning to leave. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he added before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him, leaving Dean as he was.
°°0°°
He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he hadn't had his phone with him, but it seemed like a damned eternity while he was chained to the toilet and could only stare at the endless columns and rows of meticulously glued tiles. There wasn't a single crack in them, not a single bulge, not a single unevenness. They were perfect, like everything in the bathroom, and that perfection and clean lines were broken only by the two cheap plastic cups of toothpaste and toothbrushes that sat on the counter between the sinks.
It was frustrating to sit in this sterile environment, his legs were tingling, not to mention that his stomach and especially his back were cramping in a way he had never experienced before. Yeah, these days were never comfortable, but it usually only hurt a little and on the first day. Nothing like this.
Where the hell was Alpha? The nearest store was a ten-minute walk, since they were in the business district and there was a grocery or drugstore around every corner. He'd get there even faster by car. Then just grab the first pack and head back. That wasn't so hard, was it?
Finally, the door opened and Castiel walked in, a small plastic bag in one hand and - God bless him - underpants in the other. That look made Dean wonder why he'd finished or what. He even felt the telltale pressure behind his eyes. But what the hell? Are you going to cry like some little Omega girl just because he brought you some pads and didn't forget your underwear? You're such a pussy, Winchester. He mentally chastised himself.
Castiel silently handed them to him.
"Thanks..." he murmured, unable to look him in the eye, not because he was an Alpha, but because despite how grateful he was and how great Cas was, he still felt uncomfortable.
"I'll be in the kitchen," was Cas's simple reply before he left again, closing the door behind him and giving Dean all the privacy he could want.
He clutched his bag and briefs and swallowed, his throat tightening. He really thought he was going to cry, so he blinked quickly to dispel the ghostly moisture and turned his attention to what the Alpha had brought him. He didn't recognize the brand, and when he unwrapped one of the pads, it looked like one of those commercials with all sorts of gelling strips and odor neutralizers to make sure no one would know. Which would have been fine if it worked, because Alpha's wrinkled nose and comments about how it was a shame he'd never fucked him properly and if he wanted to change that next time were really annoying.
He got his clean panties ready, threw the dirty ones in the sink, thinking he'd soak them in cold water later, and climbed into the shower. Most of all, he wanted to run some of those massage jets he hadn't had time to try and use them to ease the pain in his back, but he knew he didn't have time for that. He still had to change the sheets and probably try to clean the mattress if he could. Damned work... But there was nothing to be done, so he did the laundry as fast as he could, rinsed his underpants thoroughly, but then had to just leave them on the sink because he couldn't put them in the hamper if they were wet, and finally went to the bedroom.
The sight of the bed surprised him.
The blankets and all the pillows were on the floor and the sheets were gone. Cas had to take them off. There was a stain on the exposed mattress, as expected, waiting, he guessed, for him to try to clean it. He was going to do it, he really was, but first he needed a coffee and some painkillers. This time it wouldn't work without it.
He walked out of the bedroom and found Alpha pouring two cups of aromatic, steaming coffee. Their eyes met, but Cas said nothing, just took the cups and sat down at the table, pushing one over to the chair across from him in a silent offer for Dean to sit down. He did so, pulling his mug over and wrapping his arms around it. It warmed beautifully, and the mixture of the smell of fresh coffee and the aroma of Castiel's pie was so perfect, it was as if breakfast was in front of him as well. He wasn't hungry, he never was these days, but he would have something sweet. Pie, preferably, but some ice cream, chocolate or some kind of candy bar wouldn't hurt either.
The click of the lighter caught his attention. Subtly, he looked up from his cup and glanced at Case, who was comfortably stretched out on a chair, one hand resting on the table, clutching his coffee cup, the other resting on the back of the chair, a lit cigarette dangling between his index and middle fingers. His expression was relaxed and he looked so calm and content that Dean was sorry to interrupt the moment. He would rather have enjoyed the sight of his beautiful, majestic Alpha, but...
"Um... thanks for the sheet. You didn't have to do that. I would have taken care of it," he broke the silence with an awkward thank-you.
"It wasn't a problem."
"Yeah, sure... it's just... um, you really didn't have to. I can clean up after myself. I can clean up after myself, especially that."
"I said; no problem," Cas repeated, giving him a look out of the corner of his eye. "It's just a little blood. I've bled more."
"Yeah, only this is different."
"Why?" he asked uncomprehendingly, tilting his head in that gesture so characteristic of him.
"It's just... because it is," he answered vaguely; he didn't understand how the Alpha didn't understand what the difference was, but he didn't want to delve too deeply into it. It really wasn't a subject he wanted to broach with Cas, although he had no choice, if only because he needed to know what he had done with the sheet. "Where is the sheet? I'm washing it..."
"I threw it away."
"Why did you throw it away? It could have been washed."
"You can never wash blood without smelling it. It's easier to throw everything bloody away and buy a new one," Alpha replied casually, taking a drag from his cigarette.
Dean frowned. Granted, Castiel had... or rather, they both had a lot of money now, but that didn't mean he had to waste things or food. In fact, the idea of having to do that kind of thing repulsed him. Part of it was the fact that he'd had to turn over every penny two or three times in his entire life, but it also went against his Omega instincts. All that shit about Omegas liking to collect and organize things. Not that this affected Dean in any particular way, but he still thought it was pointless to throw away something that still worked.
"Are you going to throw the mattress away, too?" He asked a little pointedly.
"Da," Cas replied simply, shrugging off the ashes. "I already called Yuri and Boris. They're coming by to get a new mattress, they'll bring it over and take the old one to the dump."
"Wait! You called your guys for this?!" He shouted in a panic.
Damn, damn and fuck! He didn't want any of Alpha's men to know about his accident, hell, he didn't even want them to know that he even had his days. If they found out, they wouldn't take him so seriously anymore. Especially Ratface would get a big kick out of it.
"Da...?" Cas trailed off questioningly, narrowing his eyes a bit.
"There's no need for that, okay? I'll take care of it myself," he assured him hastily, trying not to sound too scared.
"Why?" he couldn't understand Cas again. He was especially incomprehensible today. "You don't need to do the heavy work if someone else can do it for you. Especially on this day."
What did he mean by this day? Sure, he wasn't in the best of shape, but he wasn't some damned invalid who couldn't carry a mattress to the car and drive it somewhere to dump it. Granted, he'd need a bigger car than some of Castiel's, and he'd have to find out where there was a dump and where they sold new mattresses for that kind of nesting bed, but he could do it. What was Google for, right?
"That's good. I'll do it. There's no need for your men to do it. They must have other, more important things to do."
"Making my life easier, and therefore yours, is their job, and they get paid handsomely for it. Let them take care of it. A little blood is no problem for them, if that's what you're worried about. They've seen worse messes."
"Yeah, but cleaning up corpses and crime scenes is another story. It's..." he hesitated, wondering how the hell to put it in a way that Cas would understand and not be too embarrassed. "It's just different," was what finally came out.
Oh God, this conversation was really awful, and now that the Alpha was looking at him so intently and searchingly, giving him the impression that he could see into his mind and soul, he just gave in to his instincts and lowered his gaze to the table like a properly submissive Omega.
"Are you embarrassed, Dean?" He asked the threatening, but really threatening question, clearly expecting an answer.
Dean gritted his teeth and looked to the side.
"No, of course not," he replied sharply, but it was hard enough to sound believable with the heat rising to his cheeks and he couldn't stop his scent from filling with shame. Suddenly, there was the unhappy smell of Omega cornered all around. Oh yeah... damn it...
"Din... dorogoy," Cas addressed him gently, grabbing his chin and turning his face to his. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. This is nothing humiliating. It doesn't make you weak. It's a gift."
Hearing those words, but especially the soft tone the Alpha spoke only to him, the one that caressed his Omega so warmly, was pleasant and made him relax, whether he wanted to or not. And he almost believed what Cas was telling him, only not quite, because; gift? Oh well. He grinned at the thought.
"Right, the gift. Having organs in your belly that most guys don't have and a bloody water fountain every three months instead of your ass is a hell of a gift."
"It means you can have a puppy. That we can have him. For me, it's a great gift and a blessing from God to have children," Cas said firmly.
Dean opened his mouth to protest again, but then closed it. He might not agree with everything Castiel said, but it was nice to hear, and besides, he'd already convinced himself that when the Alpha added God to something, he just considered it absolutely valid and didn't allow any discussion. Dean didn't understand it, but he respected it.
"Either way, your guys don't have to know about it," he finally argued.
"They won't know."
"Honey, there's a big bloodstain on the mattress. They're not idiots. They'll figure it out, though... maybe they'll think something worse. Like you've finally killed me," he muttered mockingly.
"They'll think it's my blood."
He chuckled.
" Yeah, your blood... and it came up your nose, didn't it?" He glanced at Alpha and raised a provocative eyebrow.
Castiel didn't respond verbally, just pulled his shirt out of his pants, revealing a black scabbed wound that Dean hadn't had a chance to notice yesterday because his shirt had covered it the whole time, and besides, his attention was more focused on Catiel's hard-on and trying to stuff it as deep as possible into his mouth than looking around. So now he was staring at the scab, his Omega growling in a sudden need to protect Case and ideally rip the throat out of the bastard who had shot at his Alpha and even hit him!
"What happened to you?"
"I had an accident." Alpha shrugged casually.
An accident? Did he think Dean was an idiot and couldn't tell a scratch from a bullet?
"Shit accident! A flying bullet is no accident!"
"Occupational hazard. Could have been worse."
Unfortunately, yes, Dean believed that, if only because he knew who Cas was and what his job was. And if he didn't believe it, the scars, mostly covered by tattoos, spoke for themselves. He didn't like to think about them. He didn't like to think about his Alpha being in danger all the time, because it made him anxious and angry at the same time, so he decided to listen to his inner Omega and those stupid caring instincts and with words: "I'm going to get some bandages and tie this up," he stood up.
Suddenly the world collapsed in front of him, his stomach clenched with cramps and his legs turned to pudding. And before he could breathe, he was wrapped in tight, warm arms and surrounded by the cherry scent of a caring Alpha.
"Are you okay?" Castiel asked, mouth pressed almost to his ear, sucking in air loudly. "You smell of pain."
"I'm fine," he replied, pulling away from his arms and catching his disapproving gaze. "Take off your shirt. I'll be back in a minute."
He really did feel sick, not that he wanted to show it, so he bravely shuffled into the bathroom, head held high and shoulders straight, and pulled a first aid kit from one of the shelves.
Not wanting Cas to see that he needed something for the pain, just to worry him unnecessarily, he rummaged through the first aid kit and found a completely full tube of Oxy. Pretty strong shit, but if he was going to take something for the pain, at least make it worth it.
He popped the pill, washed it down with some tap water, and went back to the kitchen, where a half-undressed Castiel was waiting, sipping his coffee with complete calm, and putting out his cigarette as Dean approached.
"Hands up," he ordered as he sat down in the chair next to Case.
The Alpha obeyed without a word, interlocking his fingers behind his head as he watched Dean from under his closed eyelids as he removed the disinfectant spray, some gauze and some leucoplast. It didn't take much more than that, since it wasn't a deep wound, as he could tell by the remnants of the glue, so someone had probably treated it similarly yesterday. Alpha must have removed the bandage on purpose or by accident, but he should have kept it on anyway. Not because of infection, but to prevent blood from seeping through his shirt sometime during the day.
"There. Done. And don't take it off again," he ordered as he pressed the last centimeter of leucoplasty on.
There was an amused sound above his head, and then he felt a hand in his hair, and finally warm lips. He unconsciously leaned into the hand and let out a contented sigh. God, how he'd missed these little touches these past few days. And Cas' sweet scent, which held no irritation or anger, just something that warmed his stomach and made his Omega purr contentedly.
"Whatever you say, Din," Cas crooned into another kiss before getting up and walking away with his mug to get another cup of coffee.
Dean watched him, especially the way the muscles on his back and the tattoos on his arms seemed to come alive with the movement, and he just had to smile. Cas didn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere today, so he thought it would be nice to skip school and spend the day in front of the TV. With Cas, pie and a big dollop of whipped cream.
His phone beeped.
Reluctantly, he took his eyes off the show and pulled it out, only to immediately smile again. He finally had a message from the obnoxious Alpha bitch.
Bitch: I stole my phone
Bitch: just a moment
Bitch: until they take it away from me again
Bitch: I'm grounded
Bitch: no phone
Bitch: no computer
Bitch: only for homework
Bitch: not even Netflix
Bitch: 🤮🤮🤮🤮
Dean: that's okay, bitch.
Dean: it could be worse
Dean: don't run away
Dean: yeah...?
Bitch: I'm not running
Bitch: You okay?
Dean: yeah
With a quick glance, he saw that Alpha was watching him with his usual neutral face, leaning against the counter next to the coffee machine with a cup in his hands.
Dean: cool
Dean: see you soon.
Dean: I'll make arrangements
He couldn't resist and just wrote it down. He was a little worried that it was an empty promise, and a little hopeful that after last night's conversation, Cas might be able to help him pay Sam a visit.
The message showed up as read, then briefly looked like Sam was replying, but in the end no message appeared. Dean waited a moment before realizing that Sammy probably wasn't going to reply. They'd probably caught him on his phone and taken it away. But that was okay. At least he knew that the little Alpha was all right.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and met Cas's gaze, who was still watching him.
"That was Sammy," he clarified, though Cas didn't ask him any questions or look at him questioningly. "He got grounded and had his phone taken away for what he did yesterday. I mean, the running away thing and also stealing some stuff from his foster parents," he explained what had happened yesterday, watching Alpha's reaction carefully, but he remained calm and this time raised his eyebrows a little in something of a question, though Dean didn't know what to ask. "I told him I'd see him too..." he let the sound trail off, eagerly awaiting Castiel's answer, which came immediately.
"Go to him after school and let my men take you there. Don't go there alone."
"Okay, yeah... I'll let him take me there, and thanks... well, you know you don't mind me going to him."
"You can go wherever you want, but you must always be accompanied by someone with my credentials, you know that? I don't want to take away your freedom, dorogoy. Nor do I want to keep you from seeing your brother, although I think it would be better if you did not see him again. The more you see him now, the harder it will be when you can't see him again.
His stomach sank, and at the same time he felt a warm wave of anger coming from his Omega, which snarled in its typical defensive manner. Thinking didn't seem to give Alpha much to do.
"So that's what you've decided?" He asked sharply.
"I haven't made a decision yet."
"You haven't made any decisions, but I should prepare myself to never see my brother again.
"Da," the Alpha nodded; Dean chuckled bitterly. "Preparing for the worst is the best way to survive."
"This isn't about survival, it's about family. About Sammy being with strangers when he has a family...me! Who wants to take care of him. Do you understand?"
"I understand very well."
"I don't think so," he argued, because it really didn't seem that way. The Alpha just didn't understand, probably because he was an Alpha. They didn't have the strong sense of family that Omegas did, and yes, in this case, with his little brother involved, he didn't really care if he acted like a stereotypical Omega who longed to have all his puppies under one roof.
"I understand more than you think," Castiel argued, walking back to the table. "I know exactly how your brother feels right now."
"How would you know?"
"A Beta female took me in when I was eight. I was adopted. So I know exactly what it's like to grow up with strangers," he put air quotes around the last few words.
"Adopted? You never told me that. I thought..." he paused, not quite sure what he was thinking. Castiel didn't talk much about his childhood, in fact, he didn't talk much about his past or his family in general. He only mentioned that he had several brothers, that his father was an Alpha, that his family consisted entirely of criminals, and that he was born in Moscow. That was about it. He had never even considered the possibility that Cas might be an apostate. "Actually, I don't know what I was thinking, but not that. You never talked much about yourself... Why didn't you tell me?"
"There was no reason to talk about it until now," he replied, as if there was now, and sat down. "But now I think you should know. Especially for your brother's sake."
"What does that have to do with Sam?" He didn't understand.
"Quite simply. If we did it the way you want and really put him in your care, my life... our life... Bratva... would be his life, too, and you should know what could be in store for him," he said earnestly, setting his cup down on the table in favor of leaning back comfortably in his chair, resting his hand on the edge of the table and looking up at Dean from under his eyelids. "My Alpha father's name was Konstantin Pavlovich, also known as Cain. He was... let's just say he was the head of our Brotherhood for a long time. And he led it in the year eighty-eight. That year and the years that followed were important years in the modern history of Eastern Europe. The Soviet Union still existed and the Iron Curtain still stood, but many people already sensed that changes were coming. And those who sensed them began to prepare for them, including people of our own kind. New alliances and new feuds were formed. Everyone wanted to get the biggest bite out of the new regime that was coming, and since our Brotherhood was already one of the most influential and wealthy organizations, we were naturally the first to be hit," Castiel paused here to take a cigarette from his pack, light it and take a drag, then continued, blowing smoke between his words: "Constantine had a reputation for being a ruthless and hard man, but he had a weakness. Me and my older brothers. The three eldest of us were now grown up, had the Brotherhood tattoo and could take care of themselves, but I was only eight and Gabriel was twelve. We were kids. I lived with my Omega father and he lived with his Omega mother..."
Now it made sense why he and Gabriel were so similar and yet so different. They had the same father, but a different second parent. They were only half-brothers.
"One day... a day I'll never forget... men from a rival gang came to our apartment. They wanted to kill me. My Omega father defended me, fought like a bear, and managed to hold out long enough for Constantine's men to come and save me. But he didn't survive himself."
"That... I'm so sorry, Cas. I know what it's like... I... lost my Omega mom like that," he said uncertainly. He didn't know what else to say. Because the Alpha didn't look like he would appreciate Dean hugging him right now, which was one of those stupid Omega urges he had, and telling him about his mom was about the only thing he could do. "My mom...someone killed her and then set our house on fire. I was about four and Sam was only six months old... But I guess you know, right?" he added, looking into Alpha's unsurprised face.
"Da. When I met you, I had everything I could find out about you," he confirmed directly and out loud what Dean already knew, and he wasn't angry, because he had done the same in the beginning. "I know why you only grew up with your Alpha father. I don't, and neither does Gabriel. His mother was killed by a bomb planted under the car, and we were both left alone. And because we were children, unable to defend ourselves, and Constantine could not spare the men and resources to protect us and risk us being used against him again, he decided to hide us outside of Russia. He entrusted us to the care of a Beta woman. Her name was Jana, she was my nanny for a while... or something like that... and she was from Czech."
The name of the country was immediately familiar to him, and it all came together quickly in his mind.
"That's why you have second citizenship. Because this woman adopted you."
"Yes. She did, and she also gave me her name. Novák. And before that... she took me... took us... Gabriel and me... to her homeland. To a foreign country, much smaller than Russia. A country where there were and are no cities like Moscow, where I had spent all my life. I didn't understand the language, I couldn't even read their writing... I was a little lost boy, Dean, longing for home and my Omega Father. So I know very well how your brother feels."
"But then you should agree to let him come back to me where he belongs," he said urgently. He saw a chance that Cas would agree now, because yeah, he had to fully understand how not only Sam felt, but Dean himself. Still, Alpha's lips tightened in disapproval and his eyes grew slightly cold as the scent of roasting cherries and almonds turned bitter.
"You misunderstood what I mean, Din." He tapped his cigarette impatiently. By taking me in, Jana saved my life and gave me a home that I would never have had if I had stayed in Russia with Constantin or my Omega father. God bless him, I loved him as only a child can love his father, but looking back I can see that he was a lost soul. Constantine bit him to bind him to himself, but he did not live with us. My Omega father languished without his Alpha, as any Omega languishes who is not close to his Alpha for a long time. And Constantine was not a good father. He was cold, and sooner or later he would have forced me to join the Brotherhood. Yes, I know," he held up a hand to stop Dean from protesting. "I ended up in the Brotherhood anyway, but before that... I had a normal childhood with Jana, and joining my Alpha father and brothers was my free choice. I could have been a lawyer or a doctor, I could have had a small house with a garden... a dog. I could have had a different life. A less dangerous life. Don't get me wrong," he stressed. "I am not complaining about who I am. I have this life in my blood and in my heart," he tapped his chest with two fingers. "I am happy. But you... you should ask yourself if you want this life for your brother. Do you want every new day to be his last? Do you want him to walk on the edge of the law or beyond it for the rest of his days? Do you want him to be a part of it all? Because once you get him into it... once you get him into that lair... he's going to be in it for the rest of his life. I wonder if that's what you want for him," he finished seriously, downing his coffee in one gulp and putting out his unsmoked cigarette before standing. "Now it's time for me to drive you to school. Think about what I told you and we'll talk about it later." With that he ended the conversation and went into the bedroom.
Dean leaned back, put his hand on his stomach, and looked out at the cloudy sky. Castiel had said a lot. A lot of serious stuff, reminding him of his plans for Sam and yesterday's thoughts that it would be better for Sam to stay where he was. He had a lot to think about.
If only his stomach would stop hurting so that he could concentrate better, he thought and took a sip of his coffee.
Notes:
Ya skuchal po tebe, lyubimyy - i missed you, my love
ublyudok - bastardI was going to give a warning about menstruation, but I think after all that was said in the story, the only ones left are the hardened readers who won't be caught off guard. 😃
Dean is a typical teenager. He's watched dozens of hours of porn and had sex, but his knowledge of his own body is somewhat limited. He understands the basics, but if he had to write a paper on the reproductive system of Omega males, he wouldn't get a good grade. Yes, he did read some recommended books after his first heat, but they were brief explanations and overall the books focused more on the importance of puppy care. John also never gave him any detailed, scientific explanations, and as for school lessons... well, apart from the fact that even today in many schools the content of "sex education" lessons is very brief, Dean never spent much time in the classroom.
But of course we want to know, that's how Omegas work, so… 😀
First of all, Heat is not a computer program. It doesn't work to the exact day and hour and is affected by many internal and external factors such as acute/chronic illness, medications (I don't mean suppressants), diet and stress. Anything from 90 to 120 days from the first day after the end of your period to the end of your next period is considered normal. During most of this time, the Omega uterus is very poorly vascularized, which can cause it to shrink by up to 20% compared to the average size of the uterus of Beta women. Approximately 10 to 14 days before heat, the uterus begins to swell, enlarge, and grow a uterine lining - the preheat. On the first day of heat, ovulation occurs, and the omega egg differs from the beta egg in that it is alive for up to 10 days because the heat can last that long. Usually it's only 4 to 7 days.
If the egg is fertilized, it descends into the uterus, nests, and begins to develop.
If it doesn't, about 10 to 14 days after the last day of heat, menstruation will begin and last 4 to 7 days (anything over ten is considered unhealthy and Omega should see a doctor).
Suppressants will stop the cycles completely. No heat, no ovulation, no menstruation. That's why it's necessary to take any form of suppression when the hormones are at their lowest. That is, about 14 days after the end of menstruation.
Dean was given suppressants during the pre-heat, which caused him to not break heat with all the symptoms, but ovulation did occur and his uterus was of course already ready for a fertilized egg. And since the uterine lining can't just mysteriously disappear, he got his period - a little late - even though he had no heat symptoms.
But this is something Dean doesn't know, because he doesn't know his internal reproductive system in such detail.For Castiel, Dean's menstruation is no big deal, because, as you've probably noticed, Castiel just feels no shame or embarrassment most of the time, and a lot of normal social interactions and social conventions are a big unknown to him. And he's not shy about anything. He's handled Dean's vomit, he can handle his menstrual blood, and he'd happily give up mucus, poop, and piss. 😃
Chapter Text
The stairs looked like a challenge, which Dean accepted, but he only made it to the rest area and just gave up. He was fucking sick. He felt like he'd been run over by a steamroller and oozed like a burst pipe. He hadn't felt this bad before, and so the dark thoughts of the suppressants he'd gotten from that Alpha fucker had started to haunt him again, making him feel fucked up inside. Sure, he didn't think he could bleed out or anything. That wasn't possible... was it? But maybe the chemical shit had corroded everything inside him. Maybe it wasn't even a suppressant or some cheap Mexican substitute. Maybe he really couldn't have a puppy anymore. Oh, shit, Castiel would be so unhappy and probably angry. Maybe even at Dean. And Dean actually... the feeling he got from that thought every time was so strange. He'd never wanted children, and it had never been as if his Omega had urged him to have them. Until he met Case, of course, and now that he was faced with the thought of not being able to have them, his Omega was so absurdly sad.
"Why are you sitting there, Mr. Winchester? You're supposed to be in class," Professor Hale's voice came over him.
Dean looked up at him quickly and then looked around. He hadn't noticed that the hustle and bustle around him had stopped and the stairwell had emptied.
"Right. Sorry, Alpha. I'm coming," he replied, sounding suitably submissive as he had neither the strength nor the reason to resist this Alpha.
He heaved himself up, feeling as if a bucket of blood had just spilled out of him, and began to crawl down the stairs.
Although it was clear that Hale was going down, he followed Dean now. He probably wanted to make sure that Dean got to class. Annoying, because where else would he go? At least there were chairs in the classroom, and if he sat in the back, he'd hopefully get a break.
"I'm sorry to say this, but you smell sick," Alpha said, though of course he didn't sound apologetic at all, and it was probably some sort of phrase he had to say so the parents wouldn't complain that he was being inappropriate with his students. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."
Dean took a breath to protest, but then thought better of it. The nurse's office was a good place to sneak out of class without someone calling Castiel again to tell him he was lost. Since he wasn't going to get lost, it would be nice to be in school where he was supposed to be.
"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. The nurse's office is a good idea, Alpha Hale," he agreed to Alpha's obvious satisfaction, which was reflected in the faint scent that passed through his blockers. Satisfaction with the approval and protection of Alpha's scent at the same time. And since Alpha's scent was subdued and he kept his distance, not even trying to touch Dean, the trip to the nurses' office was quite easy.
When they reached the nurses' office, the Alpha knocked on the door, and after a "Come in!" that came from inside, he went in and held the door open for Dean. Dean threw on his heavy bag, which slipped off his hunched shoulder, and dragged himself inside, only to be immediately enveloped like a warm blanket by the sweet scent of the protective Omega. More specifically, the Omega man, a medical brother who had just risen from a table pushed against the same wall as the door they had just entered.
"Alpha Hale... who are you taking me to?" Omega asked in a soft, pleasant voice, and even though he didn't move his gaze or show his neck in any significant way, just looking at Dean instead of Alpha Hale, he still conveyed a calm submissiveness and a kind of 'Omega calm' that Dean would never be able to even approach with his posture, his demeanor, and everything that radiated from him.
"This is Omega Dean Winchester. I found him in the stairwell. He doesn't smell too healthy. He should stay here until someone picks him up," the Alpha Professor said with a firm voice.
The Omega nurse moved even closer, his nostrils flaring as he took in Dean's scent, and in the next instant, understanding as well as compassion appeared on his face, and his scent, unmuffled by any blocking agents, filled with soothing and sympathetic tones that actually worked. Dean immediately felt a little better, or maybe a little more oblivious or something, and his Omega hummed in agreement, pretty much in line with letting this older Omega stay with him and take care of him. Not that he hadn't had those feelings before, but this was probably the first time he was willing to submit to them, because yeah... hell yeah, the two beds standing on the other side of the room looked comfortable enough that he wanted to lie down on one of them and rest.
"I know what's going on, and I'm happy to take care of Omega Winchester. Thank you for bringing him here, Alpha Hale."
The Alpha grunted in agreement, then said a curt goodbye and left, leaving Dean in the care of the Omega nurse.
"Hi, I'm Alan," the Omega introduced himself with a friendly smile on his lips.
"Dean," he replied curtly, not in the mood or energy for more.
"I see your days are giving you a hard time. Why don't you go to bed and I'll get you an electric blanket and then I'll check your records to see what we can give you to ease the pain and cramps," Omega Alan suggested, nodding toward the bed.
Dean nodded in agreement and chose one of the recliners to go to, accompanied by the other Omega. He threw the bag on the floor, somewhere under the bed so it wouldn't be in the way, and swung himself up. Then he slowly lowered himself onto the hard mattress and let out a sigh of relief. Having his back straight actually helped with the pain, and when he finally lay down, he only just realized how strangely supple and gel-like his muscles were, and how he had to clench them tightly to even manage to stand and walk.
He heard some creaking and rummaging in the cupboards to his left and glanced at the Omega nurse, who was probably searching the cupboards for the promised electric blanket. He turned his attention away from her and looked around. He should have done it now, been alert and not forgotten his training, but fuck it! He felt really shitty and somehow couldn't imagine what he had to expect here.
The infirmary was about the size of half a normal classroom, so it was pretty big. The windows faced north, so it probably wasn't even hot in the summer. There were two beds separated by a curtain, a couple of chairs, a couple of cupboards with things in them, a sink, a desk with a computer, and a small television hanging on the wall. The walls were a light green and the ceiling a light blue, probably to make it look like it was somewhere in a meadow or forest. Such colors were said to be soothing.
"There we go." A second Omega approached him, blanket in hand. "Stand up and I'll put it under your back. That'll work best."
Dean sat up without protesting and let Omega put the blanket under his back. When he lay down moments later, he could already feel the gentle warmth penetrating his spine and seeping beautifully into his body. A harbinger that the pain and cramps might ease.
"Let me see your chart. We'll give you some medicine and then call your parents to pick you up."
"I don't have parents," he replied curtly, not having the energy to explain that Mom was dead and Dad was in jail. "I have an Alpha guardian... yeah, I'm the Omega boy in Alpha custody," he tugged at his collar. "I'm sure you've heard of me."
"Yes, I know we have one of these Omegas."
"Well, that's me. Anyway," he pulled himself up a little on the half-raised bed so he wouldn't have to talk to the Omega from a lying position. "Don't call my Alpha. There's no need. Just leave me here until the end of class, and then I'll go back to teaching."
"You don't look like you can go back to class."
"I'm fine. I always am. It's just… This time it's a little worse than other times," he admitted reluctantly and very modestly at the same time.
"That happens sometimes. It's nothing to be ashamed of," Omega said firmly but kindly, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm as his scent faded. "Just lie down. I'll take care of everything."
He really didn't think it was a good idea for them to call Castiel. When things calmed down between them, there was another problem the Alpha would have to deal with, and Dean really didn't have the energy to argue again. He didn't even have the energy to argue with the Omega nurse, so he just lay back and hoped it wouldn't become a problem this time.
Saying 'so you can have some peace', the nurse, who knew why, opened the curtain around him. Useless when it was just the two of them. And went back to tapping on the computer. Probably looking at Dean's medical records. Somehow unnecessary, too. There wasn't much in them because he didn't go to the doctor. Anyway, Omega came back a little later with a bottle of water with a straw in it and two pills, one for pain and the other supposedly iron. He threw them in, took a big drink and lay down again.
A moment later he heard Omega's orderly come out into the hallway.
°°0°°
"... Dean."
He opened his eyes sharply and jerked himself into a sitting position, his hand instinctively going to the pillow where he kept the knife. The problem was that he wasn't in his bed, but in the school's nurse's office, and the pillow was just a folded blanket on the raised back of the bed, covered with a fleece. All he could see was the sheet and the rustling plastic underneath.
He must have fallen asleep or something. Now he looked around in confusion.
"They're here to pick you up," the Omega nurse told him, sounding a little skeptical.
"What?" Dean didn't understand, he was still somehow confused, tired and unfocused.
"They." The other Omega nodded in the direction of the door where Jacob and Vadim stood. "They're here to pick you up. They have custody papers signed by your Alpha guardian and Deputy Parker has agreed that they can pick you up, but if you don't know them or don't want to go with them, I'm not letting you go."
A small, amused smile curled Dean's lips. Obviously, someone as caring as Omega Alan here wasn't going to let him go with two seemingly dangerous men. And he had no idea who Alpha's men really were.
"No, that's okay. They're Alpha's... uh... bodyguards. They're Alpha's bodyguards and drivers. I know them well. They drive me to school," he assured Omega as he climbed off the bed.
The orderly didn't look entirely convinced, but since Dean walked right up to Alpha's men and greeted them with as nice a smile as he could conjure up in his condition, the other Omega didn't protest too loudly.
"Hey guys," he greeted them even more warmly, partly to reassure the Omega companion that he really did know them, before turning to him to say goodbye. "Thanks for letting me stay and for the pills and... for calling Alpha."
"You're welcome, Dean. Anytime you need to come in, even if it's just to talk about heat or menstruation or birth control," the Omega nurse said plainly, and Dean almost choked on his own tongue.
What the hell...! Why did he have to bring it up in front of Alpha's men? This was private shit, you didn't talk about it like that in public. What would Jacob and Vadim think of him now... He unconsciously turned to look at them, as if to find out, and while Jacob looked as neutral as ever, Vadim was clearly very unsure and even... shit, he was blushing! Oh God, this was even worse than Dean thought. He wished he was already out of here.
"Yeah, I don't need that. Goodbye," he said a quick goodbye, having to use a lot of self-control not to run out into the hallway. He headed for the stairs with a quick but determined stride, thinking the sooner he was in the car the sooner he would be home and the less time I would have to watch the Alpha's man, but of course his body had its own plans. A full bladder to begin with.
"Gotta go to the bathroom," he growled, shoving his bag at Jacob and disappearing into the nearest restroom.
He quickly did what needed to be done, rinsed his face and looked at himself in the mirror, only to find that he did indeed look sick. He was pale and his lips were dry. He had never looked like that before. This couldn't be normal. Or was it? He'd heard some pretty horrible stories about how awful it could be, but since he'd always felt more or less fine, he'd never thought about it. He almost didn't believe it. Was it the suppressants? And if so, would it always be like this? Because if it is, he's gonna give up and start taking suppressants. As if once every three months wasn't enough heat, now this.
With a sigh, he ruffled his hair and walked out into the hallway where the two Betas were waiting for him. Vadim still looked embarrassed and even looked away when Dean looked into his eyes, and it had nothing to do with any kind of respect for the Omega who belonged to the Alpha of their pack. A skinny Beta would never treat him that way. Jacob at least had the decency to meet Dean's gaze and hand him his bag without any silly questions about his health, though his gaze was searching and his expression a little tense and worried. That is, as much as he could express concern with his stony face, etched with an expression of annoyance.
Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and continued walking toward the stairs. The Betas followed him at the polite distance of a meter or so, as they almost always did when they accompanied him somewhere and didn't walk right next to him. They walked like that all the way through the school, out past the scanning gates, and then through the gloomy autumn afternoon to the car.
For once he didn't wait for one of them to open the door for him, he opened it himself, threw his bag under the back seat and got in. It wasn't Alpha's comfortable Mercedes, but the seats were soft and the back could be stretched out, so Dean did it without embarrassment, but with a sigh. He fell onto his side, letting his legs and one arm dangle down, and closed his eyes wearily. The other hand wandered to his back of its own accord. Even though he'd had Oxy this morning and now something else for the pain, he could still feel something twisting and clenching inside him.
Two doors slammed as the Betas got in, the engine started with a growl, and the car began to move.
" Are you okay?" came from Jacob.
"Yeah, fine. I'm just going to lie back here and die," he replied grimly.
"You want a doctor?" Vadim asked worriedly.
Dean had to grin.
"Nah, buddy. That was just a joke. Despite what I look like, I'm still an Omega, and being an Omega sucks every few months, but you don't die from it," he assured him, slightly annoyed but also a little grateful that Beta actually cared, because... dude, he probably just needed someone to be nice to him, the way every Omega should be nice to every Omega. And they could start with one thing... "Do you have any weed? I don't bring mine to school."
"Da... yeah," Vadim nodded, and the next thing he knew, a baggie landed on Dean's head, bounced off, and fell to the floor.
Dean grinned but didn't comment, just picked up the bag and looked at its contents. Neatly packed with joints and even a lighter. He fished one out and lit it, enjoying the sweet, herbal taste and the pleasant effect it had, just the promise of a little smoke. He wasn't missing anything right now, except maybe... He sighed.
"I need to buy something. Stop at a store nearby," he ordered before taking another drag.
There was a murmur of approval from the driver up front.
°°0°°
He chewed thoughtfully on a chocolate bar, deciding between the Pistachio and the Snickers ice cream. It was a tough battle between two classics and an even tougher decision before it suddenly dawned on him. He didn't have to decide which ice cream to buy anymore. He could easily buy a bucket of each flavor, and he'd never run out of money. So he slid the two ice creams next to the six-packs of pies - two cherry, two apple, and two macadamia - and headed for the shelves of liners he'd originally come here for. Of course, his faithful guards were on his heels all the way past the toilet paper, soap, shampoo, condoms, and the like, all the way to the ladies' and Omega's hygiene products aisle. It was only there that Vadim stopped and said sheepishly:
"I'm waiting."
Dean gave him a look. Yeah, he wasn't thrilled that the Betas knew either, or that anyone knew at all, but he was fucking sixteen and this was like his seventh period. He had every right to be embarrassed, but why a grown man would be embarrassed, he really didn't understand.
"Look, it's a bit of plastic, cotton and glue. It's not going to eat you up, you know?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Don't worry about it. He's an idiot," Jacob commented. "I'll go with you."
"That's fine. Better go a few aisles over and pick up some salty snacks," he instructed Jacob, handing him the cart and leaving Beta behind.
The Omega's pads were a bit sketchy, of course, but unlike gas stations and small towns, he had a much larger selection here. He quickly scanned the shelves, looking for the brand Castiel had brought him. It really was better than the one he usually used, especially when it came to hiding the smell. He almost didn't smell himself. So when he found it, of course among the packs that had the worst price/quantity ratio in the pack, he was really happy and went straight for two packs. He's going to need it.
He was about to head over to Jacob and Vadim when the smell of Alpha hit his nose, consisting of the smell of wet cement and tobacco. Not burning cigarettes, but tobacco as such. Not a pleasant combination in itself, the kind that reminded him of the buildings his dad worked on from time to time. Anyway, smelling the Alpha scent, or more precisely the male Alpha scent, so clearly in the liner corridor could at best mean that he was an Alpha as willing as Cas. At worst... Dean lifted his head, glanced at the approaching man staring at him intently, and sighed. Obviously, he couldn't get lucky.
He turned to face the Alpha and his hand slipped into his pants pocket, where of course he didn't have a knife. Fuck it.
The Alpha just kept coming closer, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared.
"Omega..." he trailed off as he came within earshot, his voice vibrating in his chest in just the right way to impress another Omega. Dean's inner Omega, however, just bristled and bared its teeth in disgust. Even though there was nothing really disgusting about the guy except the smell, Dean felt very repulsed by him, if only because he had a hundred times better and stronger Alpha back home.
"Dude...really?" He asked, picking up one of the packages he was holding. "I'm not in the mood for you. Give me a break."
"Why so angry, Omega? I'm here to help you."
"Yeah, thanks, I don't want to," he replied curtly and took a step to simply walk around him. This wasn't a small supermarket in the middle of the night where anything could happen. This was a decent sized store with cameras and employees at every corner, and Alpha's men were only a few aisles away. He didn't need to be as vigilant here as he had been at other times and other places.
To think so, however, was a mistake.
His attempt to deal with everything calmly was immediately thwarted when the knot grabbed his forearm and began the usual litany with a growl:
"I see no one has been paying you enough attention. I'm not surprised that Omega looks so bad..."
He didn't let him finish. He grabbed him by the hair and used the moment of surprise to slam his face into the nearest metal rack several times. The Alpha asshole was so surprised that he didn't resist, and Dean used all his strength so that with the second blow he heard the satisfying crunch of cracking nasal cartilage. And the Alphas did have hard heads.
With the fourth and fifth blows, he made sure the knot wouldn't follow him, and then he let go and just walked away. He left the Alpha staggering in a circle, his hands pressed to his battered face. He's sure to take home some nice bruises, not to mention a broken nose. Now, in retrospect, it hadn't been a good idea to hit the Knot like that, it could have gotten him into trouble... with all the cameras and everything... but still, Dean was in rare agreement with his Omega; both were purring contentedly at what he had just done.
He walked calmly around the corner and almost bumped into the returning Betas, who were carrying a basket generously filled with snacks of all kinds. There were chocolate covered pretzels and salted caramel pretzels. Oh, I loved Jacob and Vadim and their great taste!
"Great selection, guys," he complimented them, tossing the packages of liners into the cart. "Needs some cherry coke. You know the Alpha hardly ever drinks Coke or anything like that? Always beer, vodka, milk -"
"You fucking bitch!" came from behind him.
He looked over his shoulder. His new gnarly friend was standing on the corner, his body in a fighting stance, fangs bared and eyes as red as the shirt that still had blood on it. Dean was aware that he should have felt fear or respect at the sight of him, maybe just a little tingle from his Omega instincts, but he felt... nothing, really. No fear, and he was facing an obviously angry Alpha, only... well, this Alpha wasn't dangerous at all. Not even a little bit. Not like Castiel, or his men, for that matter, who were at Dean's side right now, and who immediately became alert.
"Has he been bothering you, brother?" Vadim asked.
"Yeah, kind of," he nodded.
That was all it took for the two Betas to step around him and place themselves between him and the approaching snarling Alpha.
"I suggest you pull out your fangs and get out of here, buddy," Jacob said warningly, and both he and Vadin straddled each other, making Dean's familiar hand gesture of pushing back the lapels of their jackets to reveal their gun holsters.
Dean still had a good view between their bodies, so he could clearly see that the knot had stopped. He might have taken a few hits from Omega and been wounded and deeply humiliated, but he wasn't so angry yet that he didn't realize where he was and that he was about to face two forty-five. And probably not stupid enough to risk ending up with a couple of bullets in his stomach either, and so, despite all the rage, the bitterness of which had just reached Dean, he began to back away slowly instead of attacking, and when he was back at the turn into the liner alley, he turned and disappeared into it.
"We should get going. Let's make sure we can pay before he swallows his pride and starts complaining," he grumbled lightly, though he was half sure he wouldn't. That was the advantage of fighting Alphas. Often enough, they were so vain and felt so humiliated by being confronted by an Omega that they didn't even go anywhere to complain, because that would put them at risk of stupid questions like 'And why didn't you fight back against the Omega'. Sure, someone here could have seen the whole incident on the cameras, but honestly, considering how many there were... well, a security guard sitting in a small office didn't have enough eyes to see everything.
"Yeah, good idea," Jacob nodded.
Vadim took over the shopping cart, Jacob stood at Dean's side to protect him like a real bodyguard - unnecessary and a bit ridiculous - and they made a hasty exit to the cash registers.
°°0°°
He kicked off his shoes and tossed his bag into the corner, his jacket landing on top of it in an instant, then took a quick glance at the Betas who had brought him his groceries and were relieving themselves unbidden. Great, at least he didn't have to tell them.
He took the last puff from his joint, just a small stub left, and walked up the stairs. He didn't expect Cas to be awake, so he didn't even look for him, going straight to the kitchen to see where Alpha's men were putting things away, stubbing out the joint in the full ashtray on the way. Bloody lazy Alpha. Couldn't he knock the ashtray into the garbage before it almost overflowed? Angrily, he grabbed it from the kitchen table and walked over to the trash can.
"Put the refrigerated and frozen items in the fridge and leave the rest on the table. Thanks," he organized, tossing the ashtray into the trash and making his way to the sink. "Then you can go... yeah, actually no, I have to let you go," he added half to himself with a sigh. He wanted to take a shower and then collapse in front of the TV, or better yet, go to bed and not have to take another step. All the meds and two joints of weed had finally helped, but he still felt broken, weak and generally annoyed by the whole world.
He rinsed out the ashtray while watching out of the corner of his eye as they quickly put the frozen and refrigerated stuff into the fridge, and just as he was pulling back the washed-out ashtray, Vadim set the half-full bag down on the table. Dean placed the ashtray next to them and just nodded to indicate that he would take them to the elevator.
He had to wait for them to put their shoes back on, thanked them again at the elevator door, then swiped his card slot and sent them into the garage to their car. Finally, he went back to the apartment and started to get the rest of the stuff out. He still had to clean up somewhere before he finally went to bed.
Footsteps sounded to his right. He looked up to see that it was Cas, who had probably come out of the study, and that he looked wide awake and even alert, even though he was only wearing a rumpled robe, boxers, and a white tank top. Still, it was surprising that he was awake at all at this hour. It wasn't even twelve.
"Hey, honey. What are you up for?" He asked.
"A call from your school woke me up," the Alpha replied calmly, stopping next to Dean and putting his hands in his pockets. His scent didn't betray that he was really angry, it was tartly sweet and heavy with just a hint of sourness, and the look he gave Dean was questioning and searching at the same time, like he was trying to look inside his body to see what was wrong with him or something.
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean for them to call you."
"That's all right, dorogoy," Cas said gently, reaching out and taking his chin and turning his face to his. "They said you were sick and I should come get you. I sent Jacob and Vadim because they were already at the school. And I thought they'd bring you home right away, but I see... you were still out shopping," he added, looking at the things spread out on the table.
"I had to stop by for... well, you know what," he replied vaguely, turning away, slipping from the gentle grip of Castiel's fingers.
"I was worried when you didn't come right away. Next time, text me you're going shopping."
Dean tensed in anticipation of another rebuke and carefully inhaled Alpha's strangely unchanged scent.
"How are you feeling?" Cas continued as mildly as before, and Dean relaxed slightly.
Compared to the last couple of days, when Cas had been constantly tense and impatient and easily snapped, he seemed to be himself again, and as mild and patient and... yeah, caring and gentle as before. It was a hell of a change, hard to get used to, but... hey, what was he really complaining about? He had his Alpha back, so why look for reasons for the change?
He relaxed, which took some convincing of his own body, and put on the smile he'd turned to Case with. He had to force the smile a bit, it didn't come out completely natural, but that was okay.
"Okay... I mean, not really okay, but it's fine. Yeah?" He leaned over and gave Case a quick peck on the lips, which was immediately rewarded with a satisfied growl and an arm wrapped around his waist, which the Alpha pulled into his arms. And buried his nose in his throat, inhaling Dean's Omega scent with a throaty, enthusiastic growl, as if it wasn't currently tainted by the smell of tainted blood, pain and general discomfort. So it certainly couldn't be anything Cas would like, but he acted and smelled satisfied anyway.
Still, Dean pressed a hand to his chest, forcing him to pull away a little. For one thing, he didn't like the Alpha sniffing him like that right now, and frankly, he wasn't in the mood for a cuddle, let alone anything more.
"Hey, slow down, tiger. Now is... not the best time for this," he said, expecting the usual frustration from the Alpha, and so he was surprised when the grip around his back simply loosened and Castiel nodded slightly, his scent unchanged.
"I understand, moy sladkiy," he said softly, his voice so pleasantly deep and gravelly, cupping Dean's face in his hands and running his thumb across his chin. "But if you want, I'm okay with that. A little blood doesn't scare me."
"Fine, I'll think about it, but right now I want to take a shower and maybe take a nap."
"Khoroshiy," the Alpha crooned, which he could tell meant something like a longer agreement than a simple 'da,' and leaned in to kiss Dean briefly on the lips. "Sleep well." With that, he let him go.
In a sudden rush of gratitude that pressed into the insides of his eyes and made him feel like he might cry - shit! He really hated these surges of hormones and Omega moods he always had, but this time they were a hundred times stronger - he grabbed Cas's cheek and kissed him quickly, but hot and passionate.
"I..." his voice did him a disservice, and the three words he was about to say somehow turned into something else. "Thank you... for the wish and all..." He let go of Alpha, stepped back and pointed with his thumb behind him. "I'm going... good night..." he said and turned quickly, not waiting for an answer.
Moments later, he was safely behind the closed and mostly locked bathroom door, where there was no chance of him embarrassing himself further with something he did or said under the influence of his raging hormones. Something... like saying he loved Case or something.
Chapter Text
He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of the sunrise shining through the blinds.
He'd killed the whole day yesterday by alternating between sleeping and going to the bathroom. All the while, he'd made it a point to visit Sam afternoon - luckily, Little Alpha didn't even know about it, so he wouldn't have to regret it. Instead, he could only shuffle around the apartment, so tired did he feel. And now he had to get up and go to school. Sighing, he rolled onto his back, his hand immediately going to his side as he searched for the Alpha, who of course he couldn't find. Cas had come to bed sometime after midnight, wrapping Dean not only in his arms but also in his sweet, happy scent, but then he'd left a few hours later. Probably back to 'work' again.
He rolled out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom for a long, warm shower, and then spent the time grunting and trying to stuff his swollen belly into his pants, which was only half successful in the end. He zipped up his pants, but his belly button rolled over them, which he had to cover by buttoning up his shirt with at least a couple of buttons. He didn't want some idiot to think he was pregnant or something.
Finally, his gaze fixed on his phone, checking for messages from Sammy, he walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, ready to force at least a bowl of chocolate cereals down his throat. The surprisingly strong smell of Alpha, as well as the smell of fresh coffee, made him look up, only to find that Cas was home.
He was sitting at the table, wearing only boxers, a tank top, and a bathrobe, just like yesterday, holding a cup in one hand and a cigarette and his cell phone in the other.
"Cas... um, hi."
The Alpha looked up from his phone, his gaze instantly softening and warming, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.
"Din... Good morning... I made fresh coffee. Have some."
"Thanks." He returned the smile and was about to walk past him when Cas grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close.
It wasn't the first time he'd done it, but it was the first time in what seemed like a long time that he was grateful, so when he landed on his lap, he just let out a surprised yelp, causing Castiel to chuckle in amusement.
"Aren't you even going to say hello properly, Omega?" He asked with playful severity.
Or at least it seemed playful, and so after a few moments of cautiously scanning Cas' face for signs of anything other than playfulness and amusement, he finally relaxed his tense shoulders and leaned into the arm that wrapped around his back.
"Morning, Alpha," he feigned humility, looking up at Cas from under shyly lowered lashes, but he didn't last long. A laugh rolled over his lips all on its own and he wrapped his arms around the playfully snarling Alpha's neck to kiss him. He savored not only the bitterness of the cigarettes and the sweet smell of honey and roasted cherries, but most of all, the feeling of being in Castiel's arms again. A feeling that made him and his Omega growl with satisfaction.
The Alpha broke the kiss first, pulling away, and this time it was his turn to study Dean's face.
"Feeling better today, sladkiy?"
"I'm fine," he deflected automatically, mostly because he didn't want to talk about it too much. His shark days were already being talked about unnecessarily.
"Don't lie to me, Dean. I want to know if you're really okay," Cas said sternly, a little commanding but not really unfriendly, and the way he looked at Dean, as well as the hint of sourness in his scent, made it clear that he wasn't so much angry as worried. Which was kind of ridiculous, since Dean wasn't even sick or anything. But since he wanted to calm his Alpha down, yeah, he put some effort into thinking about how he was feeling.
"I'm feeling better today, okay?" He finally assured him, and it was true. . He didn't feel up to running a marathon, but everything didn't hurt as much as it had yesterday, and being near Cas's soothing Alpha scent actually made him feel pretty good. "So stop looking so serious, honey. It's just a visit from Aunt Floe. I'm not dying for it."
Castiel pursed his lips in disapproval.
"You didn't see yourself yesterday. You smelled not only of blood, but of sickness, and you were pale and sweaty, and it certainly wasn't grass. For a moment I thought I should call Dr. Naomi."
"Dude... not a doctor! I don't need a doctor, okay? I'm really good," he refused immediately, lifting himself off Castiel's lap despite his certain reluctance to let go. Seriously, the Alpha could ruin any good moment.
"Whatever you think..." Cas replied a little too calmly, it was more of that tent rochu dangerous and decidedly disapproving calm, and he put down his coffee mug in favor of a drag from his cigarette. And then he looked up to where Dean was standing. "I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do. Not again," he said, still calm, letting the smoke pass between his words. "But I do want you to eat something. I ordered you some delicious beef broth from the Doll yesterday. You didn't want it for dinner, so take it now. It will give you strength."
He vaguely remembered Cas trying to force some food into him, but he didn't say anything about beef soup, just that he'd had dinner brought in from the Doll. And although Dean had associated the Doll with delicious, homemade apple pie, the first thing that came to mind yesterday was borscht, and just the thought of it made his stomach turn. And what little appetite he had was gone forever. If Alpha had said it was soup... Hell, he probably would have had it yesterday. That is, if it was anything like Bobby's; a pile of meat, potatoes, corn, peas and beans. Oh dear, he shouldn't have even thought about it, now his saliva was running and he was craving it.
"Damn, I'd love to, but I have to go to school. And soup isn't exactly a quick breakfast. I'll just throw in some cereal and wash it down with milk."
"I excused you at school."
"What?" He frowned.
"I excused you at school," Castiel repeated, shaking off the ashes. "Don't make me repeat things more than once, Dean, I don't like it."
"I didn't want you to repeat things, I just don't understand...why? I mean, I could just as easily go to school."
"There's no reason for you to go to school if you don't feel well."
"What about all that talk about trying hard in school to get good grades and stuff? Because, you know, I've been there maybe three days in a row since I started...that's not much."
"Education is mostly about making a good impression on others. And yes, I want my Omega to have a good education and for people to take you seriously, but your health comes first. Especially when it comes to..." He nodded his head and pointed the burning cigarette vaguely at Dean's stomach. "More than anyone else's opinion, I value the family we'll have together someday."
A warm, satisfied feeling filled Dean's chest in one big wave. And his Omega held his head high, proud that Dean had chosen such an Alpha. One who wanted a puppy with him, and that was more important to him than anything else. It was a ridiculous feeling, he knew that, but it was also a nice one, and since there was no one to judge him - except himself, and how much he rolled his eyes at himself was his own problem - he allowed himself to feel it.
"Well, heat up your soup and sit down. We'll decide what to do today."
"Are you staying home?" He asked, slightly surprised. He'd expected Cas to leave again, as he always did.
" Da," he nodded before taking a drag, then blew out a puff of smoke before continuing, "I solved the problem with the van and nothing else has come up yet. I only have time for you today, moy sladkiy," he added softly before taking Dean's hand and lifting it to his lips. "Let's spend today together... just the two of us... no work or school... okay?"
"Yeah... yeah, definitely," he replied, trying not to sound too excited.
°°0°°
"Wow! Look at that! That's a big shot!" Dean exclaimed disproportionately loudly, considering he had his head resting on Castiel's shoulder, gesturing with his Chinese noodle-stained chopsticks somewhere on the screen.
Castiel looked up from the ashtray on the couch next to him, where he was stubbing out a cigarette, and focused on the fishing show that was playing on the screen. The show was about commercial tuna fishing, but it was also about battling bureaucracy and personal drama. Neither particularly interested him, but Dean seemed to be enjoying himself, and right now he was excited about either the giant tuna or the muscular, tanned Alpha fisherwoman in a wet tank top standing next to it.
"Fish or Alpha?" He asked, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye, hiding an amused smile behind the cigarette between his lips.
Of course, Dean immediately puffed up in embarrassment.
"Of course, the fish!" He snorted, but the way he looked away spoke for itself.
Castiel took pity on him, pulled him closer and kissed him goodnight.
"Be calm, dorogoy. I told you, I don't mind you watching. Just remember, you're mine and no one else can touch you."
Dean pulled away oddly and frowned.
"Only I really meant the fish," he replied. "It's a nice piece. Not just the size, that's not so important, it's the shape of the body and the colors and the condition of the scales and the skin. That's actually more important in fishing than the size itself, because a fish that has dull scales and is flabby is not only not very good to eat because it doesn't taste good. It's weak, and catching a weak, starving fish... it's just not an art. It's good for dry bread. But a healthy, strong, well-fed fish... that's hard to catch."
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Omega spoke with his usual energy and youthful enthusiasm, imbued with a passion that was reflected in the sparkle of his grass-green eyes and, more importantly, in his scent. Despite the smell of blood and an undercurrent of discomfort and pain, there was not only Omega's sweetness in his scent, but also the scent of freshly blossomed apple trees on a spring morning. It was easy to imagine an avenue of apple trees, thousands upon thousands of pink and white blossoms and the dew drops glistening on them.
Without thinking, he buried his nose in Dean's hair and breathed in with his eyes closed.
"You smell happy," he said before pulling away and studying the shy smile that lifted the corners of Dean's lips. "Do you like fishing?"
"Yeah, sure," Omega nodded, scooping up a portion of noodles and popping them into his mouth before continuing. "It's not as much fun as hunting, because... you know, you have to stalk, you have to sneak up on the animal, you have to aim well... you're always alert and on the move, and I enjoy that. Fishing is more about casting a lure and waiting, although fishing right in the river can be pretty cool..." he paused here, glancing over at Castiel. "You're not too keen on that, are you? I mean, hunting or fishing..."
"I like hunting, but I don't hunt animals. I like animals," he replied simply, his eyes flicking over Dean, suppressing the smile that tugged at his lips.
Omega reacted exactly as he'd hoped; he just grinned and rolled his eyes, but a hint of Omega excitement marked his scent. His Alpha grunted excitedly. It was one of the important little things he loved about Dean that made him know with increasing certainty that he was destined to be an Omega.
"Of course you do, Mr. Bee Lover," Dean replied with a laugh, patting his thigh. "I guess we'll never go fishing, but you'd enjoy the Hunger Games.”
He looked away briefly, just to stub out his cigarette, then turned back to Dean and wrapped his now free arm around his waist again.
"I've never fished, so I don't know if I'd enjoy it, but we could give it a try. All we'd need is a boat here in New York. I don't think the fish off the coast would be worth much..." he trailed off thoughtfully.
Business had been good, despite the little problems they'd had lately, and he was expecting a bonus of ten or maybe even twelve million dollars by the end of the last accounting quarter. That could certainly buy them a nice, comfortable yacht to cruise around the coast. From here to Miami to see Gabriel. Could be a nice two weeks together. And if they ever got around to fishing, he might try it after all. You were never too old to try something new.
"Would you like me to teach you how to cast, Alpha?" Dean asked amusedly, obviously not believing that Castiel was serious.
"Da. Of course," he nodded seriously.
The Omega looked him in the eyes, then, for who knows why, uncertainty crossed his face and something very similar to uncertainty entered his scent, whereupon he averted his gaze to his Chinese noodles.
"Okay, we can try it. Maybe you'll like it. Huh!" He chuckled amusedly. "I remember the first time we went to the cabin... well, it's not exactly our cabin, I think it belongs to the Forest Service or something, but we go there a lot... anyway, it was the first time we were there. And there's a creek down there... just about a mile and a half, maybe two... Alpha wanted to teach me how to fish there. I was about eight and Sammy was only four. And he was just in that stage where he wanted to do everything himself and he got really mad when I tried to help him. And of course he wanted to learn how to fish, but he decided that, like Alpha, he didn't need a rod and bait to do it, and he would catch fish right in his hands. For a while, he splashed around in the shallow water, catching tadpoles at best, but then, in an unguarded moment, he decided to go deeper. He was swept away by the current...idiot of an idiot," he shook his head, and the previously cheerful-sweet smell he had whenever he spoke of his brother took on a hint of bitterness and sourness. "It was really terrible. One minute he was at the shore, so I took my eyes off him to cast the lure, and when I looked back, all I saw was his hand disappearing into the water. I wanted to dive right after him, but dad stopped me because I couldn't swim yet, and he went after Sam myself. When they both disappeared for a moment... it was probably the worst thirty seconds of my life. But eventually, Dad surfaced, holding Sammy, and you know what?" he turned to Castiel, laughter on his face again. "That damn little Alpha clutching that tiny little fish. Normally, I would have killed him for scaring me so much, but he was so proud to have caught something..." Suddenly, Dean's voice faded, just as the smile disappeared from his face, and he finished the rest of the story in a somewhat weak voice, lacking the previous fear but also the energy. "We had to cook the fish for him. He insisted. Granted, he only took two bites, preferring sweet corn crackers, but..." Now he fell completely silent and turned his gaze to the screen where, Castiel saw out of the corner of his eye, the fishing show had already ended. "Hey, it's over now. I didn't even notice. Where do we go now? Or see what they got on Netflix?" Changing the subject entirely, he broke free of Castiel's grip and leaned over for the TV remote.
He watched in silence as Omega flipped through the channels, the previous joy that had filled him with energy suddenly gone, every tense muscle in his shoulders and face, and the musty smell screaming as loudly as it had the first day Dean had come here. If Castiel had feared for a moment that something had snuffed out his spark forever. Was it still about the fact that the Omega didn't have enough proof that the Alpha cared and protected him? Omegas needed reassurance that they were protected by their Alphas, no matter how strong and independent they were.
Or was it just that he would miss his brother? In a way, he understood. If he'd ever cared about anyone in his life - before he'd met Dean, of course - it had been Gabriel. Not by choice, but by fate, the other Alpha was the closest person to Castiel. And even if he didn't have much interest in other people's happiness or comfort when it didn't suit him, he was still human and his family was important. He could understand Dean's longing for his brother, but what he couldn't understand was why Omega didn't realize that it was much easier and more comfortable for everyone the way things were now.
Not to mention the long and uncertain legal process they'd have to go through just to get Dean emancipated, and how many other resources and contacts he'd have to use to make it happen at all. Then he would have to tolerate another Alpha in his lair. An Alpha he couldn't force into submission by fucking him into a mattress and thereby satisfying his inner Alpha who, regardless of Castiel's sexual preferences, still had a problem with other Alphas in his vicinity or even in his lair. He needed to somehow overpower them, subdue them, dominate them. Yes, it might have been preceded by a fun fight, and the subjugation might have been partially staged, but it had to happen. His instincts demanded it.
Samuel would have to submit in some way. Some safe way, suitable for a teenage Alpha, only Castiel could not imagine it. His experience with children was limited, and the only thing he'd taken away from his few encounters with Dean's brother was that he had the same rebellious yet strong and firm nature as his older brother. Only Dean, for all his strength, courage, and dominance, was ultimately an Omega, and Castiel knew he could subdue him. He already had. But Samuel had defied his entire Alpha personality at almost every turn.
"You miss your brother," he said aloud.
Dean turned to him, surprise on his face.
"Well... yeah, of course I do. He's my brother."
"Could he submit?"
"What?" He frowned.
"If he were to live here, he would have to submit to me. He would have to respect me and the rules, not only in public, but also here, in my lair. He would have to obey or face the consequences."
"What consequences exactly?" He asked, a little worried, but perhaps there was something like hope in his face.
"A punishment that would fit the transgression. A just one, for I am always just, my men can tell you that. And just severe enough that he can take it."
"That only sounds threatening and vague."
"I can't be more specific."
Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. He wanted to speak first, then think about what he was going to say, but the longer Castiel knew him, the more often he paused before speaking, thinking his words through. Even now, he was thinking, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, through the window, a thoughtful furrow forming between his brows.
"There's a lot to think about," he finally said in a deliberate voice that made him sound much older than he was, turning to Castiel and touching two fingers to the silver emblem on his collar. "I can't make decisions for Sam, not when I can't even make decisions for myself."
That was absolutely true.
The Alpha guardianship was necessary to keep Dean from ending up in another Omega home, but it took away all his right to make decisions. All the freedom that Castiel had been trying so hard not to take away from him all along. He thought Dean was smart enough to adjust for now. To play by the rules, at least in public. And he was smart enough, but he wasn't willing. His nature was too free-spirited.
And it was that very nature that Castiel admired in him, that made him so attractive.
If he wanted Omega to keep his wild nature while avoiding the problems of the last days, then perhaps giving him legal freedom was a good idea. Admittedly, it would have been much easier if Dean had been able to take his freedom into his own hands and keep it despite having to stay within the confines of the law -- and that was possible, Castiel did it today and every day. Outwardly, a law-abiding member of society and a law-abiding man, but inwardly something else - but he probably didn't have enough experience with it and would put himself in too much danger before he gained it.
Getting the ghostly hand of the law off him would be easier than rushing to teach him how to avoid its grip. He decided to talk to Shurley about it, but not tell Dean for now. He didn't want him to be unnecessarily disappointed if the plan to regain his rights didn't work out. But for now, he could make his Omega happy with something else.
"Let's go out to dinner," he suggested.
Omega looked at him a little confused.
"Yeah, okay, we can do that..." he said vaguely.
"Otlichna!" He cheered resolutely and stood up. "I know a great restaurant where they have excellent fish specialties. Have you ever had lobster?"
"Actually, yes. Dad brought one home from the fish market where he worked. I had to cook it. It wasn't worth much. Can we get something real? I don't know, maybe Burger King or Shake Shack?" Dean suggested, looking hopefully at Castiel through his lowered lashes.
He cocked his head to the side and looked at Omega with narrowed eyes.
"I'm offering you the chance to sample a five hundred dollar meal and you'd rather have fast food?"
"Yeah... well... I like milkshakes. If the seafood restaurant has milkshakes, I'm in."
"No, of course they don't have milkshakes,"he replied, sighing, and as he watched Dean's face, he just resigned himself to trying to feed him something passable. "Okay. Let's go to Burger King..."
"Great!" Omega rejoiced and stood up as well.
Chapter 82
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"...but now I have to go. We're going to the garage," he said to Sammy, whose face was on the screen.
Granted, Sam was always grounded and had no phones, but his foster parents always gave him a phone when they dropped him off at school and then took it away when they picked him up. They said it was so he could call if something happened. And he had to keep it either in his locker or on the teacher's desk during all classes. So there wasn't much time for him to call Dean, except for about twenty minutes right after the last class was over. That was how long it took Farah to get from her daughters' school to Sam's.
Those twenty minutes weren't much, and every time Dean's Omega was ridiculously happy and anxious at the same time - she wanted her puppy with her all the time, not just on the screen for a few dozen minutes - but it had to be enough. He wanted to see Little Alpha, but... Castiel had made the good point that as long as Sam was grounded for what he'd done, it might not be best to bother his foster parents with a visit. Dean acknowledged that, and Sam, despite telling him it was Cas's idea, finally nodded wisely and agreed as well. All in all, though... the last ten days had been about as cool as it could be.
He saw Sam at least twenty minutes a day, and Cas was himself again, not an angry, raging Knot. He spent a lot more time at home, too. If Dean had a long day at school, the Alpha was up and waiting with coffee or tea, because that was Dean coming back after three. If he had short classes, he'd be back around two and Cas would still be asleep. He woke up at three, and after about half an hour of drinking coffee, smoking, and looking like the zombie cast of The Living Dead, he woke up, showered, and then hung out with Dean until ten at night before he left to run his criminal enterprise. And then he'd come back around five or six or seven in the morning. Sometimes they would just cuddle for an hour or two, sprawled between the pile of pillows that had mysteriously appeared in the bed one afternoon. But most of the time, they quickly moved on from cuddling to spicier things. Mostly sucking each other off. And eventually, they had breakfast together - Dean was amused to discover that Castiel ate cereal like chips; dry and washed down with a large mug of tea.
Dean really had nothing to complain about, but when he looked at himself sometime in the evening, especially at his collar, he felt his stomach clench.
"Right. I'll call you again tomorrow, jerk."
"I'll be waiting, bitch."
The little Alpha grinned, tossed his head, and then his image disappeared. That was just as Boris pulled up to his usual spot near the elevator doors. Jacob and Vadim seemed to have been on duty for two weeks or so, and when theirs ended, these two took over. It wasn't as much fun as with Jacob and Vadim, but at least Rat Face had stopped being so impertinent and had stopped staring. Dean guessed it was because he'd moved in with Castiel. From what he'd learned from Vadim, it wasn't the first time someone had 'lived' with Castiel - who knew why the Alpha had let the tiny, annoying Frenchman stay with him - but it was the first time he'd claimed someone as his own Mate, and supposedly, Cas had treated him differently than he'd treated anyone else. Vadim had a conspiratorial look on his face when he said that, and his faint Beta scent was filled with sweet happiness. It seemed that he was truly glad that Castiel had found someone. After all, all his men liked Alpha, or so it seemed.
Boris opened the door for him and accompanied him to the elevator while Yuri stayed in the car, which was fine. There was no reason for both of them to leave. In the elevator, he said goodbye to Boris, swiped his card through the slot, and pushed the last floor, thinking about dinner as he went up.
They could order Indian. Dean craved spicy, but he'd also like a real steak. Hmm, it would be nice to be able to make it himself, nice and straight on the grill, which... hey! Actually, that would be nice. The apartment was surrounded on three sides by balconies big enough for a jacuzzi, so why not a grill, a table and some chairs? And a real charcoal grill, not some of that electric shit.
"Hey, honey! I'm home!" He called from the doorway, because it was almost half past three, so it was clear that Cas was already awake. "Should we order Indian? Because I could go for..." he continued as he kicked off his shoes and tossed his bag and jacket into the corner in their usual place. "And then I thought, why should I buy a grill? It could be put out..." he continued, running up the stairs, and when he reached the top, the words died on his lips. And immediately a frown crept across his face.
The first thing he saw was the always unwelcome guest; Frenchman downstairs from Blue Sky. Cas' ex. And he was about to snap at him, wondering what he was doing here again, but he noticed in time that besides him, Cas and the little lawyer... Shudel... Shurley. Yes, Shurley, that was it. While Balthazar - Dean noticed that he was wearing an unusually large amount of makeup, and when he looked closer, he noticed that there was a large bruise on his left jaw underneath the pile of makeup, which he acknowledged with satisfaction. He didn't know where Beta had gotten it, but he certainly deserved it - he stood and leaned his arm against the bookcase behind the TV, so of course Castiel was sitting in the middle of the sofa, his hands spread out, one holding a beer and the other a cigarette, his legs comfortably stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
And the lawyer was sitting in one of the chairs with a briefcase on his knees, covered with some documents. Then there were more papers on the coffee table. They were probably discussing something business-like, but not 'business', maybe something about Blue Sky.
"Oh... I didn't know you were busy, Alpha," he said immediately, adjusting his voice to sound like a proper Omega. "I'll..." he gestured towards the bedrooms and was about to turn around when Castiel stopped him:
"On the contrary, dorogoy. Come here and sit down." He patted the seat beside him. "This is mostly about you."
He raised his eyebrows slightly. What could he possibly have to do with lawyers...? Suddenly, an idea flashed through his mind, stirring his heart and drawing his Omega's attention. There was a possibility that the Alpha had decided to go through with his plan to help him become independent and get custody of Sam. But he didn't want to get too excited. Maybe there was something else going on. There could still be the Sun Hill investigation and the Knot. Yeah, that could have been it too. Or maybe they decided to sue him because Evans had spoken out? No, not likely. Cas seemed too calm for that.
Anyway, he pushed not only his Omega but also his excitement and concern to the back of his mind and went to sit next to Cas.
The Alpha immediately wrapped his arm around his shoulders, the dewy bottle resting against his chest.
"You know Balthazar, and you remember Mr. Shurley here, don't you?"
"Sure. You were there when the police questioned me."
"Good to see you again, Omega Winchester," Shurley greeted him with a professional smile. "Now that we're all here, let's get down to business." He pulled out a briefcase from under the papers and placed it on his knees. "A few days ago, Alpha Novak contacted me about the possibility of terminating Alpha custody and emancipating the minor..."
He almost couldn't stop himself from giving an excited yelp, but of course he finally gave in and maintained the dignified calm of a true Omega... well, almost, the smell of him made it clear that he was happy too, and from the deep breaths and the fluttering in Castiel's chest, it was clear that he too felt the sweet Omega happiness and that it pleased him. And it pleased Dean, of course, because he was always stupidly happy to make Aflo happy. Which led them into a vicious circle of sweet smelling each other... oh shit, this was really stupid. Luckily, they were all over Beta, so no one minded.
"There's a lot of bureaucracy involved in all of this, which I won't bother you with, except to say that yes, Alpha Novak can relinquish custody, and then you, represented by a suitable lawyer, can apply for early majority, and given the overall situation, you have a good chance of success."
That sounded encouraging, except...
"How 'good chance'? You mean I'll meet all the requirements and still not be... emancipated?
"Nothing is ever certain in the court system," the lawyer replied indulgently. "Let's see what needs to be done first, and how we're going to do the whole thing..." he grumbled, pausing only briefly to look at the papers on his lap before continuing. "First and foremost, we need Alpha Novak to relinquish his Alpha custody. This is basically a document that he will sign and deliver in the required copies to the required places. From the moment he signs it, the one-week period during which his custody is still in effect will begin. At the end of this period, you will automatically acquire all your former rights, but you will also automatically become a dependent minor in the custody of the State."
"Will I have to go back to an Omega shelter somewhere?" He fired immediately. He already knew what the system did to underage Omegas, and he didn't want a repeat.
"Not necessarily," Shurley assured him.
"And even if it was," Castiel joined him, taking his chin in his fingers and turning his face towards him so he could look him in the eye, "I'd make sure you weren't anywhere that's anything like Sun Hill."
"I wouldn't worry about that. We have all these papers to make sure that doesn't happen and that your emancipation is successful," the lawyer added, placing his palm on the papers on his knee and then waving his hand toward the ones on the table. "As you may know, in order to be emancipated, you must have a place to live, some financial reserves, a job, and preferably someone to vouch for you. There's a deed of gift for an apartment in those documents..."
"The one you and Sam lived in briefly," Cas interjected with an explanation.
"...a binding deed of gift for a year and a half's average wages, which is about eighty thousand, an employment contract at the car service made out in your name..."
"The car service?" He blurted out, and yeah, dude, he sounded a little more enthusiastic than was probably appropriate.
Castiel gave him an indulgent smile and took a drag on his cigarette.
"Da. This is where you wanted to work, isn't it?"
" Yeah, sure, it is, but... will they take me even though I'm only sixteen and an Omega?" Those were always the two biggest obstacles, and that he was trying to find a job he actually enjoyed. His age in the first place, because there were jobs he wasn't allowed to do as a minor, and working in a car service was one of them. It was too physically demanding and there was a high risk of injury. The funny thing was that such football players would go on to college teams, practically professional competition, right out of high school and no one considered it too physically demanding or dangerous.
Well, being an Omega was the other big obstacle. It was simply the case that Omegas were not very good at strenuous physical activities and technical disciplines. As if the sight of Dean wasn't enough for them to know that he could lift at least as much as a Beta his age.
"Sure. It's our car service. You already have a job there."
Ah, so that's how it was. Alpha's nepotism.
"Aren't you happy about it?" Cas asked, tilting his head to one side and narrowing his eyes in confusion. He must have picked up the disappointment in Dean's scent.
"No," he said quickly. "I mean, yeah, of course I'm happy. It's great. Thank you, Alpha," she thanked him promptly and perhaps appropriately gratefully, for Cas smiled and looked content to purr.
"And finally, we have a request for temporary emergency custody for Mr. Roché," the lawyer spoke up, apparently deciding that the conversation between Dean and Castiel was over.
"Wait a minute! What the hell...!" He half flipped out at the thought of Napoleon having custody of him, for what else would emergency custody mean, right? But the grumbling, a little warning and mostly irritated, that came from Alpha calmed him immediately. "What custody? Why should I have it, and why does it have to be him?" he nodded his head at the unusually quiet and mostly calm Beta.
"I'd like to know that too..." muttered Balthazar, taking a sip from his drink and jerking himself. His lip must have been torn under the layer of makeup and lipstick, and judging by the way he inhaled sharply and his hand shot discreetly to his chest, it wasn't just his lip that was injured. Not that Dean cared that he was injured, but he just noticed it. Training and all.
"Like I said, the moment Alpha Novak relinquishes custody of you, you're a normal minor again, and you can't be without adult supervision. The law requires someone of age to take responsibility for them."
" Yeah, okay, I understand that... but why him? Why not my Alpha?"
"Alpha Novak is not a United States citizen."
"Is he?" He snorted, tossing his head in the direction of the Frenchman.
"I have been for eight years." Balthazar informed him, finally pulling himself away from the bookshelf and slowly making his way towards them. He didn't move as gracefully, almost dancingly, as he usually did, but rather stiffly, as if he were in pain or something. And instead of trying to sit down, he just stood behind the counsel's chair and put his hand on the back.
"And how do you explain that I know him? You can hardly say I met him in a bar," he protested next. It was a matter of principle. He wanted nothing to do with the pompous little Frenchman. And then there was the fact that if something went wrong - and something always went wrong in his life - he might have to go to Balthazar. He'd probably kill Beta the first night.
"I hired him as a French teacher," Cas replied as if nothing had happened, letting go of Dean for a moment to empty the bottle in one gulp. Then he picked it up and nodded with the bottle, his eyes fixed on the French Beta. Balthazar didn't say anything, didn't even flinch, even though Dean had partly expected him to, and without hesitation he went to the kitchen to get another bottle.
"Nobody's going to believe that anyway," Dean didn't give in, keeping an eye on Beta as he returned with another beer. "Me and French? I can barely speak English! And if they find out this whole thing is some kind of scam... I don't want to end up in another shelter, even if it's better than Sun Hill."
"Then we can say I taught you to dance," Beta suggested as she handed Castiel his drink.
"Dance?" He asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "The judge will believe that even less. Look at me. Do I look like someone who can dance and likes it?"
Not that he didn't think Balthazar could dance, in fact it made sense, considering he moved like a damn ballerina. But Dean knew absolutely shit about dancing. He didn't even like it.
"It doesn't matter, Dean. It's not about what you can do or like, it's about what the judge will think I want you to do," Castiel explained. "He'll definitely think I want you to know French and dance, and who better to hire for that than a native Frenchman and a graduate of the ballet conservatory."
Dean chuckled with amusement at this. Dancing, like the waltz, the tango, hip-hop, that was one thing, but ballet?
"Ballet?" he looked up at Beta. "Really ballet, dude? Like leggings and tutu skirts?"
"A platter tutu isn't just any tutu. It's a traditional ballet outfit with a long history."
" Yeah... and you wear leggings underneath with your underpants pulled up. I'm sure you look great in that, but I'd look like an idiot."
"Of course you would. You don't even have the proportions for a Beta ballet dancer. As an Omega, you'd have to be barely half your weight and half a foot shorter..."
A decent growl at Dean's side cut the Frenchman off in mid-sentence, and to Dean's small surprise, the Beta immediately shut up. On the occasions when he had seen his Alpha and this Beta together, he had gotten the impression that Balthazar could afford a lot and Cas would tolerate it, but now something seemed to have changed. He suppressed a smile. It probably had something to do with Beta's broken face and the fact that he moved like someone who had just been beaten.
"If the judge asks, you'll say you met Balthazar during French lessons and then asked him for help," Alpha concluded, leaning over to the ashtray to put out his cigarette.
"Okay, Alpha," he agreed, as Omega rightly should, but still remained skeptical.
"And finally, the other papers..." he grumbled, pushing things off the table with one hand so that he could place some of the papers that had been on his lap in front of Dean. It was a whole stack of them, at least ten pages of them, stapled together at the top, and on the top half of the first page were the words 'Future Mating Agreement' in clear, legible, large print.
"Future Mating Agreement, which obligates Alpha Novak to mate with you within five years of signing, and includes a clause whereby he transfers all of his American property to you, while remaining the administrator of that property. And at the same time, if there is no mating within five years, this property will automatically revert back to the ownership of Alpha Novak".
Mating. In five years. Enforced by contract. This was... this was not what Dean had imagined. And yes, he had some silly idea that either Cas would ask him to mate in bed or on some other nice, private occasion. Or even better, that when the mating happened, it would be spontaneous. After great sex or something. To be asked by lawyers, even in front of Balthazar... disappointment tightened his throat, but he also felt a wave of warm anger that he forced himself to suppress. He remembered that he had to behave well in front of people, like a proper Omega, so he didn't just tell Castiel to fuck off, even though he had a hundred impulses to do so. Instead, he thought about it, calmed down, and decided to deal with it... like, humanely or something.
He calmly turned to Castiel, who gave him a searching look, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed Dean's bitter scent.
"Can I talk to you, Alpha? Alone..." he added politely but firmly.
"Yes, of course," Castiel agreed without hesitation, rising to his feet, his steps leading immediately to his office. He didn't even turn around to look for Dean as he did so, simply assuming, as any Alpha would, that Dean would follow him. Which he did, not because he was Cas' Alpha, but because the study was a good enough place where they could 'talk' without being overheard.
Castiel entered the study first, leaving the door open for Dean. And Dean immediately followed suit, closing the door, securing it, and resting his hand on it with a sigh. He took several breaths, slowly in and out, calming the rage that bubbled in his chest and also pushing all the frustration and stupid tightness in his throat to the back of his mind.
"Fuck you!" He finally managed to get out between clenched teeth anyway, and when he turned to face Alpha, he wasn't met with the angry glare and bared teeth one might have expected, given how rudely he'd marked him. Of course, Castiel looked at him with that almost adorable confusion and yet calmness so uncharacteristic of an Alpha so obviously strong and dominant. He was almost calmed by the sight of the confused Alpha, but only almost.
"A mating arrangement? Seriously?" He walked up to him, his jaw tensing and his breath quickening so that he could smell the scent of confusion that was permeating Castielou's scent with increasing intensity. "You're just going to slip it to me through your lawyer? Couldn't you at least tell me about it before?" Or asked me to Mate in some nice way? He added mentally, only to himself, not saying it out loud of course. He didn't want to look like some romantic Omega girl who needed the Alpha to propose to her at sunset, on his knees, collar in one hand and wedding ring in the other.
"It's just a formality," Castiel said as if it meant nothing. "I understand, dorogoy, that you don't want to be forced to Mate by law and contract, and neither do I. But the truth is, your emancipation will cost me more money, connections, and resources, and I think you should do something for me in return."
A cold hand cupped his stomach, kneaded it thoroughly, and then made its way up his spine to his throat, which it squeezed. He and Alpha had never really talked about mating in the sense of planning it, but when he had mentioned it, it had sounded like he appreciated it. After all, he could have bitten Dean at any time without asking, but he didn't. Hell, he'd said he wished Dean would bite him back. No Alpha he knew, with the exception of his own dad, would want that.
And here he was, talking about mating.
"I see. I should mate with you because of everything you've done for me," he said bitterly.
"Of course not!" Alpha said almost indignantly. "Where did you get that idea, vozlyublennyy? Mating is an important thing, sacred you might say. Especially among True Mates. And as I told you before, to force you to mate, by force or otherwise, would be to dishonor the Lord's gift."
"But you want me to sign a contract for future mating in exchange for helping me become emancipated!" he snapped back.
"No. I want you to legally own my property. That way, it won't be so easy for the police and the IRS to get their hands on it and seize it," Castiel explained; and Dean slowly began to get the message. "I could give it to you as a gift, or you could buy it outright with my own money, but Shurley thinks that's the best way to go under the Future Mating Agreement. There's a reduced tax on the transfer, and apparently it's common here in America for infatuated Alphas to give their property to Omegas just through the Future Mating Agreement," he said with a kind of disdain in his voice. He seemed to think of the Future Mating Agreement as something unimportant, which it wasn't to Dean. It was a pretty binding and important document, everyone knew that, and even though he didn't think it would ever apply to him -- understand, he had no plans to date or Mate with Alphas -- he took it seriously, too. So Castiel's attitude was a little... well, he didn't like it much, but that wasn't really important. What was important was the substance of what Cas was saying. He didn't want to force him to mate, he just wanted to hide his possessions, and that made sense. But Dean had to be clear about it. Have a definitive answer.
"So, to get this straight..." he drawled judiciously. "You don't expect us to actually Mate in five years. You just want to hide your property. Make me your straw man. Am I right?"
"Da. That's basically the point."
Getting a clear answer brought some relief, but also some disappointment. His mind just had to go back to how cavalierly the Alpha had approached the Future Mating Agreement, and it made him cringe. Even his inner Omega was a little down because it sounded like Castiel never really wanted to mate with him. And that, despite the fact that Dean had never wanted to mate before, hurt. He got the impression that his Alpha didn't want him, no matter how confidently he'd talked about mating at other times, and that he even wanted Dean to bite him.
"Okay, okay. Let's sign the contract," he agreed and turned around, partly to hide the disappointment that might show on his face and partly to get it over with as quickly as possible.
But he hadn't taken two steps when strong arms wrapped around his waist, he felt Castiel's nose on his neck, heard a loud inhale, and his nose was pinched by the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, but also caressed by the scent of roasted cherries with almond crumble and honey.
"What's wrong?" Alpha asked.
"Nothing," he answered automatically.
"Dean...!"
He exhaled slowly. The way Cas said his name, it was clear that he wasn't going to let go and sign anything until he got answers.
"It's okay. It's just..." He licked his lips. "I was just thinking that once you actually propose a Mating or Future Mating Agreement, it'll be more... just not through your lawyer."
"The Future Mating Agreement is just meaningless bureaucratic nonsense. It has nothing to do with us or our Mating," Cas replied with contempt in his voice.
The way he talked about the Mating Agreement was just so... Dean paused. Perhaps it was another cultural misunderstanding. Yeah, it could be. Maybe Future Mating agreements weren't as important in Russia as they were here in America.
He turned in Castiel's arms, looking into his face as he wrapped his arms around his waist.
"It's a Future Mating Agreement. That's a damn important and serious thing, you know? At least around here."
"Is it really that important?" Alpha asked in return; Dean nodded slightly. "I see..." he said, glancing thoughtfully at the pocket behind Dean's shoulder before returning his gaze directly to Dean's face after a moment. "There is no such thing as a Future Mating Agreement in Russia. Not in the sense of a legally binding document. The Bolsheviks saw it as a symbol of the oppression of the Alpha bourgeoisie, and it completely contradicted the idea of rule by the working people and absolute equality. It was, in their view, a way of forcing the Omegas into submission to the Alphas. They abolished it in the fifties," Cas explained, answering a question Dean hadn't asked but wanted an answer to. "There are Church Agreements on future Mating, but not in the Orthodox Church. They are found only in muslim states on Russian territory and are not legally binding documents. Their fulfillment cannot be enforced by the state power, as in the case of agreements here in the States. For me, the Future Mating Agreement is not of much importance, but for you... it seems so. Am I right, dorogoy?"
"Yeah... sort of," he admitted. "I mean... if we sign this agreement, I won't pressure you to keep it. I certainly won't. But here in America, it's just an important thing."
"I can transfer the property to you another way," Cas suggested.
Dean immediately shook his head.
"No, we'll do it like this," he said firmly. "Now that I know where I stand, it's okay. You said it would be cheaper for you, and that's good. The money has to be kept together. I understand that. And I also understand that you need someone with integrity to own your property so they can't take it away from you. I'm not stupid."
"Ours."
"What?"
"They couldn't take our property," Castiel repeated. "It is my property as well as yours. We'd both lose a lot if the police confiscated it.
A gentle smile lifted the corners of Dean's mouth. It was damn nice to hear Cas talk about it being their joint property. Not because of the money per se. The hell with money, clubs and apartments. He didn't need any of that. He liked to hear that everything Cas had so far belonged to them together, and he'd love the idea, even if it was just a beat-up old car and a small tent.
"They couldn't take our property," he repeated, leaning in to kiss Alpha.
°°0°°
Twenty-five fucking million! That was the property he would own in a few weeks. Plus the 'measly' few hundred thousand for the second apartment and his own account that he'd get from Cas. Partly he couldn't imagine having so much money and partly the thought made his head spin. He was going to have that kind of wealth overnight, and he wasn't even going to get it after he was emancipated, but before. Apparently, the Future Mating Agreement allowed for such a large fortune to be given to a minor, he just wouldn't be able to dispose of it to the full extent, even if Castiel hadn't appointed himself as trustee under the Future Mating Agreement. It is said that in such cases, the state would automatically give control to the minor Omega's legal guardian, or, if he was in State custody, to a state-appointed conservator of the estate. But on the whole, it didn't matter. The thought and feeling of owning such a huge pile of money just got to him. Hell, even just the apartment and the money Castiel had agreed to give him via a contract that would go into effect the exact moment the seven-day period after the Alpha relinquished his custody, or so the lawyer said, would be over.
And all it took was a few papers and a few signatures to secure it. That was all.
"Din?" Castiel addressed him.
He turned his head sharply away from the Mercedes window through which he watched thoughtfully the houses, cars and pedestrians that passed them as they drove toward the auto shop where Cas had arranged a spot for him.
"Yeah?"
"We're almost there. You've been lost in your own mind."
Dean looked out again and found that yes, they were just passing through a large metal gate, behind which was the typical courtyard of old car parts and the auto shop itself, the garage, and of course things like tires in a pile and various metal parts just covered with plastic sheeting. Nothing fancy at first glance, where someone of Castiel's financial means would have his car repaired, but a normal car service for normal people until they had ten, fifteen, or even twenty year old cars and needed extra cheap and fast repairs, otherwise they had no chance of getting to work. Just the kind of place Dean would have liked to work. Hell, yeah. In fact, he liked it here so much that he didn't care anymore that he got here through nepotism. As soon as they saw how good he was with tools, they'd figure out he was right here. But it was up to him to prove what he could do. He was determined to do it.
The Mercedes pulled up, and Dean, as part of his determination to prove he belonged here and wasn't just a protekmance brat, got out himself, not waiting for Golem to come open for them.
The cold autumn air here was saturated with the smell of used tires, technical fluids, welding, paint, and cheap car trees that were only for Betas. A wonderful combination that made him grunt with satisfaction and reminded him of Bobby's junkyard, which he had only the best memories of. Yes, he definitely liked it here.
Castiel stepped up behind him and immediately put an arm around his shoulders.
"It's perfect here, Cas," he said enthusiastically.
A cherry-sweet puff of joy and a satisfied grunt was his response, but that was all Castiel got, for out of the open garage door stepped a not-so-tall Beta of about forty, with brown hair receding visibly in the front, an inch-long beard on his chin, clean work overalls stretched over his stomach, and even though he was wearing a thin jacket, it was obvious that his arms were muscular. He was definitely Russian, you could tell by the gruff expression on his face, even if Dean didn't know that the place was owned by the Russian Mafia. And he walked deliberately towards them, bowing his head in a sort of polite bow when he was close enough.
"Dobryy den', Castiel Konstantovich," Beta greeted in Russian, sounding rather formal.
"Viktor Andreevich..." Castiel greeted with a nod and in English, moving his hand to the back of the Dean's head, "This is Dean Yankovich, my Omega."
The Beta, Viktor was his name, turned his gaze to Dean and gave the whole man a quick once-over, as if assessing him, but at the same time raised his hand for a handshake.
"It's an honor to meet you," he said, so stupidly formal and polite that it made Dean uncomfortable.
"Me too... uh... Victor. May I call you Victor? Now that I'm working here..." he smiled amiably as he squeezed Beta's hand.
"You can call me whatever you want, sir," Victor made him even more uncomfortable by calling him 'sir', and although his English was good, the accent made everything he said sound terribly serious and a little rude.
"How about we take a look at the garage? I haven't been here in a while..." he was saved by Castiel's request.
Victor simply stepped back and motioned them toward the garages.
The tour was short. There wasn't much to show, no matter how big the garage was. Well, there was a lot of interesting stuff for Dean, but it was easy to see in Castiel that he maintained more of a polite interest when Victor talked about the new equipment or when he introduced the three employees. They were all Russians, all from the Bratva, according to their tattoos, and their names were Maksim, Nikolai, and Grigory.
Finally, they were on their way back to the Mercedes.
Golem opened the door, and Castiel paused inside and turned to Dean.
"Yuri and Boris will pick you up here at six. Until then, enjoy your first day on the job, dorogoy," he said, grabbing Dean's chin and kissing him lightly on the lips.
He returned the small kiss, but pulled away sooner than he normally would. Dean didn't think it was necessary to make such a blatant display of their relationship in front of his new coworkers. At that thought, his eyes involuntarily wandered to Victor, who was watching them intently without moving a muscle in his face. Yeah, they should definitely hold back. He didn't want any favoritism. He wanted to show that he could do something.
"I will, Alpha." He used his secondary designation on purpose, even though he knew Cas didn't particularly welcome it - even now his lips tightened a little in displeasure - because he wanted to put some... distance between them. Or something like that. Just so that Victor and the others watching them from the workshop door wouldn't associate him so closely. That is, if they could, after they'd kissed.
Maybe the Alpha understood, because he didn't say anything else, just nodded slightly and got into the car. Golem closed the door behind him and slid into the driver's seat. A moment later, Alpha's Mercedes was out of the big metal door and disappeared around the corner. At that moment, Dean took a breath, put a friendly smile on his face, and turned to Victor.
"So, boss? Where do I start?" He asked in a friendly manner, because hell yeah, unlike all the jobs he'd had in his life, this time he felt positive and saw a bright career path ahead of him and this shit that some school counselors tried to motivate him with when it came to future careers.
"Follow me," Victor asked, waiting for Dean to step forward and join him at his side.
So he led him back to the garage, but not to any of the broken down cars or cars that were about to be attacked. Dean wasn't even surprised. He hadn't assumed, and in a way didn't want Beta to give him a 'proper job' right away just because he was the boss's hubby. He wanted and planned to prove his qualities, and if that meant starting with sorting parts or vacuuming interiors, then he would do it. Yeah, Winchester, you can do it! You're motivated and all! He cheered himself on in his head, still so excited, but as they passed through the workshop and headed clearly for the office, his enthusiasm waned a bit.
But then he realized that there was some paperwork to sign and they had to go through mandatory safety training - not that anyone here cared about fire regulations, considering they were smoking just a few feet from the propane tanks.
They walked into the office, Victor closing the door behind them and immediately heading to his desk. Dean was expecting paperwork, so he went to one of the chairs at the desk reserved for clients, but Beta didn't sit down, he just put his hand on the pile of papers and then looked up at Dean.
"These are the invoices for the material orders. It says how much and what we have in stock. You'll enter it into the program," he nodded to the open laptop on the desk. "Can you do that?"
"Sure, no problem," he replied automatically. The previous brief disappointment deepened. Even though Castiel had pushed him here, it was like everywhere else. Because he was an Omega, he could work in a garage, but not as a mechanic, but as a fucking secretary. "But why would I do that?"
Victor frowned.
"To keep track of how much we have and what we need to buy next month," he explained, speaking slowly and very clearly, as if he thought Dean hadn't understood him before, or worse, was stupid.
"Yeah, I understand that. I'm not an idiot," he snapped. "But why do I have to do paperwork back here and can't help out up front?" He asked pointedly, realizing that he might be unnecessarily insulting, so he tried a softer approach. "I understand that you can't give me a big job right away. I need to prove to you that I'm really good with cars. I'll do anything. I'll vacuum the seat covers and clean the mirrors. I don't mind hard work.
"You can't be up front. It's too dangerous out there."
"Excuse me? Dangerous? Is that a joke?" He asked in disbelief. Dangerous? It was a car service, not a minefield in Iraq. The only danger there was a few bruises and scrapes and burns and a lot of dirt under his fingernails. Nothing that hadn't happened to him before.
"You are Batyushka's Omega. If you so much as twist a hair on your head, we'll all end up here without arms. I won't take that chance. You stay back here where you're safe," Victor decided.
"But I'm no damn secretary!" He shouted angrily.
Beta looked at him for a moment, then shrugged.
"Fine, then do nothing. Just sit here and Nikolai will bring you some tea," he said as if everything was settled and simply walked past Dean and out of the office.
Dean could only stare angrily through the glass door as he said something to one of his men, who quickly glanced in Dean's direction before nodding and walking away. Probably to make the damn tea.
Dean looked back at the pile of papers and the computer. This job they had set up for him was pointless. And mostly just to keep him busy. Just the fact that they had paper invoices... who used paper invoices these days when everything was electronic.
He'd prefer to just blow it all off, except... If he's going to make a scene, he's going to act exactly the way he's expected to; like a spoiled Omega that Castiel coddles and hates to work because he's used to getting everything he wants. Dean wasn't like that, and he didn't want to be seen that way. So he decided to bite the bullet and do the job Victor had set for him. After all, it wouldn't be the worst thing he'd ever done in his life, and certainly not the most complicated.
Once Beta saw that he wasn't above the others, it might be easier to change his mind. First he could persuade him to do some cleaning in the shop and maybe some straightening of materials, then he could clean cars and then he'd see where it went.
Determined, he sat down at his desk and the paperwork that awaited him.
Notes:
I assume you know this, but just in case... Russia is not one country. It's a federated state that is closer in structure to the United States than to the European Union. The Russian Federation has 80 self-governing entities, and some of these entities could be considered "muslim states" because there is a high percentage of the population that claims the Islamic faith. For example, in Tatarstan it is more than 30% of the population.
Chapter Text
"Hey, big bad wolf! I bet you've got a great knot for me!"
John didn't even look back at the screaming prostitute and walked into the bar. It was a dingy and seedy dive that reeked of cheap booze, sweaty bodies of people of all subgenders, stale heat and ruts, and drugs sold in dark corners. And as he looked around, he saw the faces of drunks, junkies, pimps, and drug dealers turned toward him. He was used to some seedy places, but this was one of the ones he didn't like to visit. Unfortunately, he had no choice.
A few weeks ago, the bastards who'd tried to kill him had hung themselves on his ass. At first he had been sure that they had been Alastair's men, but then someone new had appeared. Someone much better, even professional, who couldn't escape as easily as Alastair's men. He even had to go so far as to get caught by the cops in order to hide from his pursuers for a while. He wanted to take a breather, regroup, think about his plans and then break out of prison, but the bastards had beaten him to it. They went so far as to hijack a prison bus just to get to him. They were in a different league than Alastair's men. They were much more dangerous. And it wasn't until the day they drove right into the path of the prison escort that he came face to face with them. They were all Alphas, kin, probably family. Fathers and sons. They were ruthless, and John had his work cut out for him. How close he'd come to losing was a constant reminder of the not-quite-healed wound in his shoulder.
He'd managed to kill one of them and even escape, but it was weeks before he was sure he'd lost them and determined to return to New York for his boys. He knew he wouldn't find them in the motel where he'd left them. He made sure they had all the protection he could give them from afar, and he personally informed the authorities that they were alone, without adult supervision. It wasn't a great solution, but if someone was after them as well, the protection of the authorities was unfortunately the best he could do for them. But he had expected to be able to contact them at least by phone, but their numbers had been disconnected and their social networks deleted. All that was left of them was Dean's message asking him to come back as soon as possible, that something had happened. He hadn't specified anything, just like John had always told him, but... damn! Now he'd be damned glad if Dean would open his mouth and tell him everything in the message. Maybe he'd have a clue where to find his puppies. He had to find them. They were his puppies! And his inner Alpha was angry and scared at the same time. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Maybe since his Mate had died. He needed... he needed his children as much as he needed to breathe. And if anything happened to them, he would hunt them down and tear out their throats with his own teeth!
An angry snarl passed over his bared teeth, and though it belonged to no one in the room, and he was not trying to intimidate the patrons of the bar, they all immediately lowered their eyes and heads and began to act as if they were small and harmless. It didn't do much to dispel John's bad mood, but it was satisfying enough that he loosened his grip on his jaw and walked briskly to the bar.
He leaned against it. That was enough for the old Beta bartender to immediately step up and say:
"What can I do for you, Alpha?"
"I'm supposed to meet Ash here. Where is he?"
The bartender just nodded towards the dirty curtain that hung behind the bar like a dead animal. No more needed to be said. John walked around the corner of the bar, brushing off the smelly thing that must have hung there for a good twenty years without anyone bothering to wash it because it was so soaked with smoke that it had not seen the days when bars could smoke. He found himself in a small corridor that was so full of liquor crates that it was almost impossible to walk through. He pushed his way through to the end, where he could hear Ash's voice through the open door, cursing at some computer game.
"... asshole, dude! You're supposed to be shooting and instead you're telling us about your grandmother's birthday!" Ash shouted into the microphone attached to the large headphones everyone wore in John's younger days, when small earbuds didn't exist. Skinny Beta was stretched out on an expensive gaming chair, and an even more expensive gaming rig in front of him was running a shooter in an environment John knew all too well. The Middle East, some desert region and a bombed out city. Iraq or Afghanistan. It wasn't exactly specific, but it was familiar enough that he sporadically recognized the place.
Ash stopped suddenly and lifted his head as if to vent. He was one of those Betas who had an unusually good sense of smell, so he had no problem recognizing that someone had entered his "lair," as he called this and similar holes where he lived.
"Gotta go, guys. I've got work to do," he said in a much more serious tone before pulling the headset off his head, turning off his voice with a single click on all the screens, and then turning to John.
"Well, well... My favorite Alpha!" He declared as he rose from his chair with a grin and spread his arms. "Come on my chest, big guy!"
He growled, baring his teeth a little in protest, but that didn't stop Beta. Since John didn't want to return the hug, he just grabbed his arms, hugged him tightly and buried his head somewhere in his chest. John snorted and endured it painfully. Ash could be unbearable, but he was also the best, and he was good at hiding. He'd only had one fight with him, a few years ago, and it had taken months to find him again, and that was because little Beta had let him. He didn't want a repetition of this fox and rat hunt, especially not now, when he needed him so badly to help him find his boy.
"I have the information you asked for," Ash said a little more seriously as he finally let go and stepped back. "It's right here," he continued, picking up a folder full of papers from the table. "Printed out, just the way you like it. But you know me... I'm like a hooker. Payment first, fun later."
John reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a Playboy magazine, permanently laminated in a hard cover. It was the January 1980 issue featuring Dorothy Stratten, unread and, according to the collector he'd won it from in a poker game, carefully stored since the day news of her murder hit the media. It was a collector's item, mainly because of its condition, and Ash had chosen it as payment in lieu of money, which John not only didn't mind, but actually liked. He had no use for such collectibles himself, and while they sold well, investing it in finding his boys was the best he could do.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" Ash gushed, turning the laminated magazine over in his hands as if it were the Holy Grail.
John didn't understand. He couldn't even look inside, so what was the point of the magazine?
"You got what you wanted. Now give me what I wanted."
"Sure, sure. You don't have to be so impatient," Beta said, putting the magazine on the table and handing John the folders with his other hand. "Take a seat." He nodded to the other office chair against the wall, "and look at the fruits of my genius!" He added, and with a click on the screens, he showed a series of photographs of a man John recognized very well.
"The Styne family. On the face of it, a well-ordered, old family whose roots can be traced back to the first English settlers. They have lived in Connecticut for eighty years and own a funeral parlor there. The head of the family is Alpha Monroe Styne, who has five Alpha sons; Jacobe, Eldon, Roscoe, Eli, and Cyrus," he listed as he pointed to each of the five men in turn. Except for the youngest, Cyrus, who looked no older than John's Dean, he recognized all of them and already knew which one he had killed. Probably the second youngest, Eli, if they were ranked by age.
"The youngest is still in high school," Ash confirmed his guess about Cyrus' age. "The others work in the family funeral home, except for Eli, who's dead. They say it was a 'car accident'. I believe that about as much as I believe that beauty over there," he pointed to a poster of a practically naked Beta female hanging on one of the walls, among old beer commercials and video game posters, "has real tits. The Styne family is, in fact, on the wrong side of the social compact called the laws of the United States, known as a family of very fancy hit men."
"How fancy?" He asked. Alastair had a large fortune and considerable connections, but he also had his own people.
"So luxurious that only someone fucking rich and powerful could afford them," Ash replied, and with another tap on the screen he brought up several photographs of a man, surely Alpha, with dark brown hair and unusually blue eyes. Most of them looked like they had been taken from a surveillance video. In them, the guy was either getting out of or into limousines and expensive cars, or entering some kind of business, be it restaurants or bars. There was only one photo where you could clearly see his face, and it had to be from an official document like a driver's license or passport.
"This brings us to Ivan Konstantinovich Novak, known as Castiel. He belongs to the Russian Bratva, specifically the Vorkutskaya Bratva. I won't tell you exactly how old this Bratva is, but I've been able to trace its roots back to the 1960s. Maybe it's older. The Soviets kept good records, but a lot of them are still in paper form, and getting them here from Russia would cost a lot more dough than what sweet Dorothy is worth in perfect condition. And you don't even need to know that, all you need to know is that... I found both your sons," Ash said, turning to John with a serious face.
John's Alpha bared his teeth and growled 'my pups!'
"The younger one is safe with a foster family, but the older one... dude, that's not good. The older one is in the care of Ivan Novak, and I'm pretty sure he's the same guy who hired the Stynes to kill you."
John growled angrily. Some bastard from the Russian Mafia had his Omega son. His Dean! How the hell did that happen? He wasn't a fan of the system, he knew it was a corrupt and flawed institution and that it was best to avoid government power because it would never do anything for you. The murder of his Mate... his beloved Mary... was clear proof of this. Instead of going after the real killer, the cops decided that John was the killer, and her killer has so far escaped justice and continues to escape to this day. But he thought the authorities would at least be reliable enough not to leave his son in the care of a criminal.
"Hey! Hey! Easy, buddy... easy, Alpha. Everything's fine... just no biting... or destroying my beloved children," Ash tried to reassure him.
He gave him a sharp look, which immediately made the little Beta shut up and bow his head meekly. John growled, just to make him duck even more and show his submission, then took a good gulp of stale air and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. The Alpha's anger was no use. He had to formulate a plan to get Dean back, no matter how difficult and dangerous it was. And unfortunately, no matter how much pain he might cause his boy.
"I want his address."
"I'll give it to you, but don't do anything rash," Ash replied. "He's not just an ordinary member of the mafia, he's a big head and he'll have a lot of his own people around him. I'll help you make a proper plan..."
"I just want the address," he interrupted before Beta could interject. John didn't need his help, he just wanted the address and having him on his ass would only complicate his life. Not to mention that he didn't want to be responsible if something happened to Ash.
"Fine. Fine." Beta held up both hands in a gesture of defeat. "Here's his address," he added before clicking the keyboard a few times and papers came out of the printer to John's left, "and a few other things you don't have on file yet. Attention business. Absolutely free."
John took the first paper and looked at the address. His Alpha grunted. It was clear where he was going today.
°°0°°
The rabbit circled the stump, hopped over it, jumped into the burrow... or something like that. Oh, shit! Having to wear a jacket and tie was like being cursed. Dressed like that, he wouldn't even be able to concentrate today. And barring a miracle, he'd be wearing a noose instead of a tie knot.
He grunted in frustration and tugged at the damned piece of silk a few times.
"You want to strangle yourself with this tie?" Came from the closet door.
Out of the corner of his eye, he shot an angry glance at Alpha, who was standing in the doorway, legs crossed at the ankles, leaning casually against the futon. He had a cigarette in one hand and was resting his elbow on the other. His eyes were narrowed, a smile played on his lips, and he looked pretty damn good, even though he was wearing a soft pink shirt instead of his usual white or cream.
"Can't tie it..." he muttered irritably. On the few occasions he had, it had always been his father who had tied his tie, and although he had tried to teach him how to tie a tie using an old rhyme about the hare, the stump and the burrow, Dean had never gotten the hang of it.
"Let me see. I'll do it," Cas replied, stepping away just long enough to extinguish the cigarette in the ashtray by the bed.He smoked everywhere. In the office, the kitchen, the living room, the balcony, the bedroom, even on the toilet, but the closet was taboo. He never smoked in his dressing room.
"Stand facing the mirror," he instructed, and then his warm body, smelling of sweet honey and baked cherries, pressed against his back as Castiel wrapped his arms around his body to reach his tie. "It's not that hard. Just like this...up...stretch...and tighten." He tied the knot with the ease he'd practiced before leaving the apartment. But he also had years of practice and incredibly dexterous fingers, already slimmer than Dean's, with which he could do such precise little things as tie knots or roll a cigarette, as well as snap people's necks. Yeah, he had damn sexy hands.
Dean grunted, leaned into his arms, and grabbed one of those hands. The tie, the knot, and, for the moment, today's court appearance were all forgotten in favor of bringing Cas's hand to his face and inhaling the scent emanating from his wrist where it was strongest and the veins closest to his skin.
"You've got sexy hands, you know that?"
There was an amused grunt behind his back, but it quickly turned into a satisfied purr and Cas pulled him closer. He was so into his tight embrace. Safe under the Alpha's protection, that was what kept going through his mind, even if it made him feel rather silly. He knew how to take care of himself, it was just... like today. His entire future depended on today, and it was the hope that he could get his brother back. That is, if he finally decided to ask for his care. And it was also about his freedom. Even though he was technically out of Castiel's custody as of yesterday, and thus no longer subject to the rules of the Omega in Distress Act, he was a minor again for a change, and they could take him out of custody any time they wanted. Even though the little lawyer said that wouldn't happen. He said the fact that Balthazar had him in some sort of emergency custody ensured that the authorities couldn't get to him right away, and it was a legal chance to get his affairs in order and apply for emancipation.
"Nervous?" Cas asked him.
He jerked a little and caught his reflection in the mirror, clutching Cas's arm with both hands, wrapped around his chest, with that unfocused look and expression. He must have been lost in thought for a moment.
"I'm okay," he half-lied, earning the Alpha a tilt of his head and an incredulous squint from Castiel. "Don't freak out or anything, but... damn. What if I screw up today? I say the wrong thing and the judge not only won't let me become an adult, she'll send me to another shelter."
"You want to become an adult and you think you can do it?"
"Sure!" he replied with sovereignty. He had fended for himself practically as far back as his memory could reach. Partly their Alpha had guided him to do so, perhaps by teaching him to fish, hunt, and survive in the wilderness. And partly, he had no choice.
"Then tell the judge the truth."
Unable to stop himself from smiling, he turned his head and gave Case a look.
"Really?" He asked amusedly, raising an eyebrow. "My mafia lover telling me to tell the judge the truth?"
The Alpha shrugged slightly.
"Why not?" he said casually. "The legal system is as easy to use and abuse as it is to circumvent. Why ignore or break laws that work to your advantage?"
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he nodded thoughtfully.
"My advice... the advice of one who knows the subject is: be polite, address her as 'Your Honor,' tell her as much truth as will not get you or me in trouble, and tell her about everything you've done for your brother and how you've taken care of him. This will be the best way for her to see that you are capable of taking care of yourself and all the responsibilities that come with being an adult." He rested his cheek against Dean's ear and looked into his eyes through the mirror. "I've told you many times, dorogoy, you're smart and strong. You can handle a lot more than just one judge."
With each word Castiel spoke, heat rose in his chest, as well as a growl from his Omega, who was overjoyed at the way his Alpha spoke of him. With such pride and warm tenderness. His Alpha wanted him just the way he was, even if he wasn't exactly the perfect specimen of an Omega. And while it was still a little strange to hear that from someone like Castiel, at the same time... A loud growl escaped his lips as he instinctively lowered his head and his gaze. He gave in, like a true Omega, but of his own free will. Not because he was forced to. And like so many times before, he was surprised in the back of his mind how willingly he did it and how pleasurable it felt. But those were considerations that vanished as soon as Castiel placed a warm palm on the back of his head and rubbed his scent gland against his hair a few times in a possessive but gentle growl. He was marking him so everyone would know who Dean belonged to, and he liked that.
"A few more hours, Din," Cas said in his ear. "A few more hours, and then we can fully show the world that you're mine and I'm yours. Da? You'll be able to wear not only my scent mark proudly, but the other one as well," as he said this, he kissed Dean's shoulder in the exact spot where he still had a fading trace of his mark on his skin. "Remember, that's what you're fighting for today, too."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay, Alpha," he nodded willingly, turning his head so he could sigh and bury his nose under Castiel's neck in the heady, heavy scent of roasted cherries with a hint of bitter almonds and the heavy, musky Alpha scent, savoring it for a moment, as well as the sense of security and peace it brought, before he reluctantly pulled away and said: "I think we need to go now."
"Yes," Castiel nodded, and slowly, but almost permanently, he released Dean from his arms. "Better early than late. Ready?"
"Yeah. Absolutely!" He nodded resolutely and took another quick look at himself in the mirror, frowning. "I don't look very... I don't know, fancy? I don't want her to think..." he trailed off, realizing what he was about to say and that Cas might be offended.
"... Like I'm keeping you?" the Alpha finished for him calmly, a small question mark at the end, but at the same time not waiting for an answer. "Dean, it's a cheap suit from the Internet. If you'd bought something even cheaper, you'd look like you're wearing a plastic bag. This will definitely convince the judge that you bought it yourself, because if it was up to me, I'd never let you wear something like that."
Dean grinned slightly. Yeah, that was definitely true. When Shurley had told him to buy a plain, cheap suit for the trial, Cas had looked like he was chewing on a very disgusting morsel. And he tried to force the idea that something older from his wardrobe might do. According to the lawyer, everything was very expensive and luxurious, and properly chosen clothes would do a lot, so not only was he supposed to buy a 'cheap' suit, but all jewelry, including expensive watches, was also forbidden.
"Fine. Fine. I'll let it go now. Shall we go?" He raised an eyebrow in question.
Castiel said nothing, just nodded toward the dressing room door.
He headed straight for the front door, where he stopped and waited for the Alpha to finish, and then they left the apartment together. The walk down was quick and quiet, Cas holding him around the shoulders like he did almost every time they went out. It always made Dean smile with amusement. The Alpha just had to let everyone know who this Omega belonged to. Such typical, silly, somewhat Knot behavior, but Dean didn't mind it so much. For one thing, he'd gotten used to it, and for another, there was something fun and satisfying about watching people back down from his Alpha, and thus from him. He could look them in the eye and say; yeah, this sensational, powerful, dominant Alpha is mine and you'll never get him. And he damn well liked that feeling.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out, heading for the Mercedes parked nearby, when suddenly... Dean's nose was hit by a whiff of freshly cut birch and wild rose.
He froze and his Omega stiffened and growled; our Alpha.
But that was impossible. Was it? No, it couldn't be. How could it be? Her father was in prison, wasn't he? This couldn't be his smell. Someone must have passed through here who smelled just like him. Like that didn't happen. Every smell had subtle nuances that were unmistakable, so even if two people smelled like oranges, it wasn't the same orange. But at the same time, it was said that everyone in the world had a doppelganger who smelled the same. Or... or it was just someone's perfume. Some strange mixture of several scents...
"Omega," Castiel's voice interrupted his thoughts. He sounded impatient, and when he looked back at Alpha, he saw him standing in the open door of the Mercedes, looking at Dean obliquely, his head held high. It was clear that Cas had approached him several times and he hadn't responded. He never liked that about Alpha, but it irritated him especially in public and in front of his men. It was necessary to keep up appearances. So Dean relaxed his shoulders and lowered his head a little.
"Come on," the Alpha ordered him.
"Sure, Alpha," he agreed in a suitably humble tone and followed the Alpha.
Chapter Text
Dean imagined the courthouse in a more... melodramatic way. There should be lots of Alpha lawyers in expensive jackets, dignified judges in robes, and an emotionally charged and smelly air. But in reality, as they walked through the rather dignified looking lobby, where the embodiment of justice was embossed on the wall, and took the elevator up to the third floor, they found themselves in an ordinary hallway. Sure, it was an old hallway with marble floors and a high ceiling, but along the wall that held the windows were ordinary plastic seats like the ones he'd seen in the Alpha and Omega Affairs office a few days ago. Across the hallway was a row of doors. And even though there were a lot of people sitting around, the air was pretty cool. A little tense and nervous, but nothing explosive. And yes, there were lawyers there, and some Alphas, but none of them were particularly well dressed... well, except for their own two, who were waiting for them a short distance from the elevator.
There was Shurley, of course, and then there was the lawyer Castiel's lawyer had chosen to represent Dean. Something about a conflict of interest and more credibility, they said.
Dean eyed the lawyer curiously, taking in her scent.
That she was an Alpha, he figured out right away. She was a rather tall woman, athletic, pretty, with brown hair, dressed in a light brown suit and - surprisingly and conspicuously - red pumps. And one breath was all it took. She was wearing blockers, so her scent wasn't strong, but he could still smell Alpha's musk and baked apples and caramel and sharp notes of cinnamon.
Shurley and the lawyer shook hands, as they did first with Castiel, and then the Alpha female, Dorothy Baum, turned her attention to Dean. She was looking down at him, of course... well, not literally, since they were eye to eye, but her gaze was as commanding as any Alpha's, and it was clear that she expected submission. Of course, since they were in public, he couldn't disappoint her, so when she offered him her hand - quite an Alpha gesture - he lowered his gaze and his head a little.
"Nice to meet you, Alpha," he greeted shyly, squeezing the woman's hand as if she were a frightened fish.
"'Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester,'" she returned his greeting, not using his secondary gender as a form of address, and continued immediately: "Normally, I like to meet my clients privately and a few days before trial, but your case seems a bit... rushed," she chose her words carefully, glancing at Castiel. "Let's at least talk on the side," she added, letting go of Dean's hand and waving him further down the hall.
He didn't turn to look for Castiel, but he could feel his eyes on his back, and he only knew that his Alpha was frowning, uncomfortable with the fact that Dean was leaving, and maybe with whom. He didn't say a word in protest, though, so Dean had no reason to stop and let the lawyer lead him to a nearby window.
"I don't understand who boarded up the windows. We could really use some fresh air in here," the Alpha neglected to say as she set her briefcase down on the plastic bench. "Blow out my Alpha scent so you can talk to me openly."
This time, her words were almost a sigh. She'd thought Dean was some kind of easily controlled Omega and that she'd have to get rid of even a hint of Alpha musk for them to talk. Hell, he seemed to be playing the role of the orderly Omega a little too well, and come to think of it... he was here because he wanted to be independent, and this Alpha was going to help him do that. It would probably be best if she really believed that he was capable of taking care of himself. If she believed that, she'd be able to convince the judge.
"After all, I can only smell you a little through the blockers," he replied to her in a normal tone, relaxed, which meant he had actually straightened up and looked calmly into Alpha's face. "We can talk as openly as you want."
Alpha gave him a surprised look, but like a good lawyer, she quickly hid it behind her poker face.
"I can see that," she said, and there was a hint of edge and displeasure in her voice as she said it, as every Alpha Dean had ever defied, but then a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was an amused smile. "For a moment, I thought this whole charade was being played out just so you could give unquestioning consent to the mating. But maybe it isn't. You must tell me the truth. Why do you want to be emancipated?"
"Well... there's more than one reason, I suppose," Dean intoned thoughtfully. "I suppose you know I was in Castiel's custody for a short time?"-the Alpha just nodded-"That was because I was in Sun Hill before and Castiel didn't want me to go to another place like that," he explained, and when he mentioned the name of the shelter, a look of not only understanding, but also a hint of anger and disgust and a little bit of regret appeared on the Alpha's face. It was all reflected in the faint, subdued tones of her muted scent. "But being in his custody just brought all kinds of problems, and besides, I have a brother who's in foster care... he's younger than me... and if I become independent, I could petition for custody of him."
"I know all about that. It's in the file that Chuck gave me. I wanted to hear directly from you if it was true."
He wasn't sure what she actually knew about him, or what Shurley had told her, but he guessed there was nothing about Castiel's work or little things like the shooting of Alastair's men, and probably not even how he had dealt with Evans. He nodded accordingly.
"Yeah. It's all true," he said resolutely. ""I want to emancipate myself because I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I want to take care of my brother. There's nothing else behind it. Is that a problem?"
"On the contrary. You're exactly the kind of client I usually help. That's what I do. I help minors, regardless of their subgender, get out of bureaucratic hell or out of the custody of bad guardians. You see," she picked up a briefcase from the bench, "both my parents died before I was ten, leaving me a large inheritance. And also a guardian in the form of my Alpha father's half-sister. It took me a long fifteen years to regain my property from that witch, as well as my legal rights. Now I'm going to make sure that it doesn't happen to anyone else." She smiled again. "Shall we confront the system together?"
"Absolutely."
The Alpha let out a satisfied purr.
°°0°°
When they called the serial number of their case, they could enter the courtroom. It was nothing fancy. Not a huge room that exuded authority or even fear. It was maybe twice the size of a school classroom, with a couple of wooden benches -- Castiel and Shurley sat in one right at the front -- between which they walked to a plain table and three chairs.Just opposite was the bench, which was the only one that really looked like the one in the movie, there was also a court reporter and some bailiffs, and another table to the right with a man sitting behind it. He was wearing a cheap suit, there were piles of papers on his desk and he was typing something on a small laptop.
Dean frowned at him. He had no idea that someone would be standing in front of them. He thought he'd just have to convince the judge that he could take care of himself.
"This is a representative of the States. In cases like yours, he's only in a de facto presiding role," the lawyer explained half-loudly, motioning him to a chair.
Dean nodded, sat down, and turned his attention to the judge, who, like the State's attorney, was doing something on her phone. She was a black woman in her fifties, with a round face, close-cropped hair that had been combed smooth, and elegant, large glasses. She was wearing a robe, so it was unclear how she was dressed, but she had silver rings in her ears. She seemed nice enough, and she was probably a Beta, though he couldn't smell her scent.
The judge looked up, glancing briefly at Dean before nodding to the bailiff, who stepped forward and announced:
"The matter at hand: the emancipation of the minor Omega Dean Winchester. The Honorable Judge Eleanor Fischer presiding."
"Counsel for the minor, you may begin," the judge called to Dean's attorney.
The Alpha took several documents from her briefcase and made her way to the judge.
"My client is a sixteen-year-old Omega who grew up with only his father and in a very unstable environment," the lawyer began, not very happily in Dean's opinion. "His Alpha father, John Winchester, never provided my client or his younger Alpha brother with a stable home or proper parental supervision. As a result, Dean had to assume many of the usual parental duties and responsibilities. From the age of ten or eleven, he not only took care of the household, but also of his brother. He supervised his education and his schooling and grades. Here we can produce some documents that show what a good job Dean did," Alpha said, handing the judge some papers. "These are the publicly available results of the school's Knowledge Olympiads, or after-school clubs that focus mainly on advanced education for children and teenagers."
The Judge quickly scanned the documents, then nodded.
"I see. It's quite impressive. But what about Omega Winchester's school records?"
"Granted, they're not as impressive as his younger brother's, but so far he's successfully completed every grade without having to repeat any of the required courses. In this case, I would also like to point out that Dean's only satisfactory school record is the result of having to take care of his brother, including having to work."
"I see what you're trying to show me with all this," the judge half interrupted her. "You want to point out that your client has shown in the past that he is capable of taking care of himself. And I believe he has, but... in order for him to be emancipated, I need to know that he has the financial and material resources, because experience is certainly invaluable, but I can't put a sixteen-year-old boy out on the street if he has no place to live and no job."
"Of course, Your Honor. Here are the documents proving his financial and material security." She handed the judge several more pieces of paper. "As you can see from the bank statement, he currently has a decent financial base of eighty thousand dollars, he also owns an apartment and is employed at an auto garage."
"Yes," the judge nodded after quickly going through the papers, "and I also see that all of the above was recently transferred to him by Alpha Novak, who had custody of Omega Winchester until ten days ago."
That's not good, Dean thought as he heard the judge's voice and saw her expression. When he and Shurley had talked yesterday, at their last meeting, Alpha's lawyer had told him that there was no need for them to mention Alpha's custody at all in the emancipation proceedings. He said it wasn't legally required to tell the judge. But apparently she had somehow found out and was now bringing it up, clearly unhappy that no one had told her.
"Yes, that's right," Alpha agreed quite confidently, her voice not even trembling with surprise.
"I can't help but find the circumstances rather suspicious. Especially the fact that you seemed intent on keeping the Omega Winchester connection to Alpha Novak from me. Will you give me an explanation?" The judge asked sternly.
"Certainly," the lawyer replied calmly. "We never intended to hide anything from the court, and Alpha Novak's intentions have been pure all along," she said, turning from the bench and moving toward Dean, and by extension, Castiel, who sat behind him. "Alpha Novak considers my client to be his True Mate, and Omega Dean thinks the same of Alpha Novak. But as you can see, they are separated by a considerable age difference, and Alpha Novak has always been very aware of all the legal and moral implications of this situation. However, as you know, the bond between True Mates is very strong, and so while Alpha Novak's relationship with Omega Winchester was only friendly, the Alpha has always been inclined to help and protect the Omega. It's the nature of Alphas. Instinctively," - Dean thought as she spoke that she might make things worse, but strangely enough, the judge didn't seem outraged or anything, just nodded slightly and continued to listen to the lawyer. - "When my client and his brother found themselves in a difficult situation, Alpha Novak gave them a home."
"And then he took Omega Winchester into Alpha's custody, which is a controversial thing in itself."
"He had no choice. It was only in Omega's interest and for his safety because... let's be honest here... in my client's case, the state apparatus that is supposed to protect the most vulnerable... children and Omegas... failed painfully!" The Alpha's lawyer spoke very firmly, her passion oozing from her as much as Alphas could when they were focused on something, like a hunter focused on prey. "My client has been separated from his brother, to whom he has not only a brotherly bond, but also an Omega bond to his pup, and by that act alone, irreparable damage may have been done to the mental health of both my client and his sibling. And then, not to be outdone by the failure of the system, he was sent to the infamous Sun Hill. An Omega shelter run for over a decade by a sadistic Alpha warden -"
"Yes. Yes! That's enough, Alpha," the Beta judge was interrupted by a perfectly confident judge who was obviously used to dealing with and, more importantly, defying Alpha lawyers. "Understood. Now I would like to ask your client a few questions."
" Of course, Your Honor," the Alpha nodded and returned to her seat. As she sat down, she leaned over to Dean and whispered: "Stand up when you address the judge."
Dean didn't have time to say anything when the judge addressed him:
"Your attorney gave a really fiery speech, full of criticism of our welfare system, as one would expect from someone with her reputation," the judge said, glancing at the Alpha. "And she produced some documents that are important to my decision, but not enough. I want to know some things directly from you and about you. For example... it is obvious that you have the patronage of a wealthy Alpha who has provided you with everything you need from the beginning. But it's hard to believe that he does this out of the goodness of his heart or because you are True Mates. Is the true reason for your emancipation so that you can give your full and, more importantly, unquestioning consent to mating?"
Dean stood up slowly, giving himself time to think. This was definitely a trick question. Either she thought she was a stupid Omega and would agree right away, or on the other hand he would deny any romantic connection between him and Cas. Either way, he'd ruin his chances to succeed in this negotiation. So he decided to do what he had done with the police that day.
"No, Your Honor," he replied in a way that the judge expected from her expression. "I don't need to emancipate myself to consent to the mating. I have already given it. We signed the Agreement for future mating. The law says I'm old enough to do it, and frankly...even if the law doesn't think so, I think I'm old enough and mature enough to decide who I want to be with in the future."
"That's a very confident statement. Maybe too confident. Especially for Omega."
"I know, but I have to be that way. I'm an Omega, and if I want something, I have to say it clearly and understandably and insist on it, because people tend to overlook what Omegas want and not hear what we say."
"Okay, so why do you want to emancipate yourself?"
"Mostly I want to finally have the chance to make my own decisions about my life. Not to be forced to live somewhere I don't want to or to be stripped of all my rights like when I was a Guardian Omega and then... then I would want to consider taking custody of my brother."
"That would be a big step, and I think it might seem easy to take now that you have the support of the Alpha, but what if you don't at some point in the future? What if you decided not to keep the Agreement for future mating? How would you take care of yourself and your brother?"
"The money and the apartment Alpha gave me will stay with me, right?" It was a rhetorical question, he knew that both were already completely his. "It's a good foundation for the future. Apartments here in New York are expensive and there's a lot of demand for them. If I list the apartment a little below market price, it will sell quickly and I'll have enough to move me and Sam to a smaller city where housing and living is cheaper. I'd find an apartment for us there, get a job myself, and what's left would go toward Sam's education."
"What about your studies?"
"I'm not much of a student, ma'am... your honor. Sam is the one of us who is college material, and that's always been my dream and goal. To get him into a good school."
"This is certainly commendable and shows that you can take responsibility for others, but once your brother goes to college and stands on his own two feet, you'll have to live on your own. What will you do then?"
He suspected that saying he was going to sell all his unnecessary possessions, including his apartment, throw a few odds and ends in the trunk of a classic car, and hit the road was probably not what the judge wanted to hear. What she wanted to hear was that he planned to have a stable home and, more importantly, wanted one.
"I always wanted to be an car mechanic. I know it's not as great a job as being a lawyer or a doctor or something...but there will always be cars and they will always need to be fixed."
"A mechanic's job is just as good and important as any other job," the judge said very seriously, in a somewhat lecturing tone, but not unkindly. "Our society needs judges, doctors, and teachers as much as it needs cooks, garbage men, and car mechanics. The important thing is to do your job honestly and conscientiously, right, Omega Winchester?"
"Certainly... Your Honor," she nodded, appropriately polite.
"Good. I'm ready to make my decision," as she said this, she ran her eyes over everyone involved. "I can't help but notice that there was obviously a premeditated plan here, and I really don't like to see our justice system manipulated. But it seems that the intentions of everyone involved were honorable and good, but I warn you; don't do anything like this again," he said sternly, which would probably have an effect on other people as well, but Dean somehow doubted that it would affect Case or Shurley and Boum. "Now, straight to you, Omega Winchester," she turned to him. "Whether or not you're legally an adult, I can see that you're already independent and have some pretty clear ideas about your future," - Dean did, but not the ones the judge was thinking, and told her - "You know how I know?" It was a rhetorical question, for she continued: "In all that time, you never once looked at Alpha Novak. That told me a lot about the fact that your answers were really off the top of your head and that you, not Alpha Novak, were the one in charge of emancipation. Still, I am very tempted to deny your request..."
Dean's heart gave a gallop and he drew in a sharp breath to protest, but the Judge stopped him with a raised hand.
"Do not interrupt me. It's not only disrespectful, it could also be considered contempt of court," she admonished him, and when he gasped again, she picked up pretty much where she left off, "I would like to deny your request because you deserve at least two years without adult responsibilities. Two more years of childhood. But I doubt you would accept my decision without protest, and I am sure you would try to emancipate yourself again. So let's save the taxpayers' money and all our time... " She took the gavel and banged it once, subtly, on the wooden base of the table. "I grant Omega Winchester's petition for emancipation in full. Congratulations, Omega, you are now legally an adult."
The judge's words lifted a weight from him that he hadn't really realized until this moment. It was even better than when they had visited the office of Alpha and Omega Affairs a few days ago and the chubby boss had had to take off his collar. He was free then, but not completely. Social Services could still come for him, or he could end up at Balthazar's (which the lawyer said wasn't likely at all, but with his luck, anything could happen). Now, in this moment, he could finally do what he wanted, be where he wanted, and be with whoever the hell he wanted. No more hiding. No more fear, even if it was subconscious, that he could get Castiel in trouble. And he could get his brother back if he wanted to. Just knowing that made his Omega growl and a smile appear on his face.
"Thank you, Your Honor... ma'am. Really, thank you," he said enthusiastically.
The Judge smiled for the first time, and when she spoke, it was much softer than before.
"The best way to thank me is to be responsible with your new rights and responsibilities. I wish you good luck for the future. You may go."
Alpha Boum led him out of the courtroom. Castiel and Shurley followed, but the moment they stepped out into the hallway, Alpha put his arm around his shoulders and Dean leaned sideways against him, his arm wrapped around his slender waist. He enjoyed the feeling that he could now hug him in public and show that Alpha belonged to him, even here in the courthouse.
More piles of documents were needed for the emancipation, because bureaucracy was just bureaucracy, and Dean knew he should have listened more to what his lawyer told him on the elevator ride, but he still didn't pay much attention. And he was glad when the two lawyers said goodbye to them at the door of the building and everyone went their separate ways. He and Cas made their way to the Mercedes Golem had parked in front of building. For once, though, the big Alpha didn't get out and open the door for them, it was Castiel who opened and held the door for Dean. He slid inside and exhaled as he spread out in the warmth and comfort of the back seat.
The Alpha sat down beside him, the door slammed shut, and the car began to move. At that moment, Cas looked right at him and Dean returned the look. The blue lagoons of Cas' eyes were warm, his head tilted slightly and his eyebrows raised in question.
"So?" Cas asked curiously. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Hell, yeah, it is," he agreed without hesitation. "Granted, I didn't know I wanted it until a few weeks ago, but now... honey. I finally feel free. No more clowns from Social Services coming in and dragging me away. I don't have to hide," he grabbed Castiel by the tie and pulled him close so they were looking into each other's eyes from barely a few inches away and both could bask in the other's scent, “ "That I'm yours and you're mine," he finished, pulling Case a little closer for a quick kiss, which the Alpha appreciated with a contented purr. "And I can finally be with Sam," he added as he pulled away, which might not have been the best idea.
Castiel's scent turned slightly bitter. An undertone of almonds asserted itself over the scent of roasted cherries, and Alpha pulled back a little more, looking down at Dean from an imaginary height. They were still facing each other, after all, and Castiel didn't pull back to tower over Dean, but something in his eyes made Dean feel smaller than he was.
"So you've decided to bring him to us?" Alpha asked seriously, so seriously that it chilled Dean's enthusiasm.
"I don't know yet," he admitted reluctantly; after all, now that he was really an adult, he should know immediately, but there were so many pros and cons. "The main thing I want is for Sam to be safe, but I'm not sure he'll be safe with his foster parents. What if someone finds out that he's my brother? You keep saying that there are people who might want to hurt me because we're together. They might also want to hurt Sam because he's my brother."
"Yes, that's true," Alpha agreed. "That's why you have to decide what you want, and you should decide quickly. This vacuum in which the problem hangs is the worst. If you cut the connection to Sam, it'll be hard for him to connect to you, and that will protect him. If you bring him to us, you can protect him directly and I'll protect him personally, but sooner or later he will have to learn to defend himself. And it's inevitable that he'll get involved in the business one way or another."
"I know. I understand that. I'm not that stupid. He's already seen and knows a lot. But... it's not just that." He looked away, pursing his lips and digging his nails into the tie he was still clutching. He didn't like this serious talk, about feelings and the future and shit, but he guessed it couldn't be completely avoided. "It's about you, too," he decided to say out loud, turning his gaze back to his Alpha. "You'd take Sam into your lair?"
"Da. I'd be willing to try, and eventually... you could always move into your apartment."
Dean blinked in surprise.
"You'd let me go?" He asked, having very mixed feelings about the idea. He didn't want to leave, his Omega literally couldn't imagine him leaving his dream lair with a perfect nest suitable for whole litters of puppies, and she was giving him stupid thoughts like the Alpha didn't want him anymore. And even rationally, he'd be damn stupid to give up all this luxury and return to a much smaller place. But on the other hand... just the fact that the Alpha had suggested it and was willing to let him go - because the Alpha always kept his promises in the end - made him feel like he was Castiel's equal for perhaps the first time in ages, just as the Alpha kept saying.
The smell of bitter almonds intensified, and somewhere deep beneath the mix of cherries and almonds, there was even a hint of sourness, and the lines around Castiel's mouth thinned as his jaw tensed, but he nodded at the same time.
"If there's nothing else..." he said in a less than enthusiastic tone, there was actually a lot of tension in it, but then he sighed and his eyes softened and his expression softened, and when he took Dean's chin and ran his thumb over it, his touch was truly tender. "I want you to be happy, Dean, and if that makes you happy, then that's fine with me. I thought it would be best for everyone if your brother was elsewhere, but it seems he's more important to you than I thought," he said a little thoughtfully, his eyes averted. He looked somehow lost and lonely at that moment. Just like a few days ago when he came home after their big fight. And just like then, a deep urge made him place his palm on Castiel's cheek and turn it toward him.
"Hey, Alpha... even if Sam and I live somewhere else, it's not like we won't see each other anymore. Right?"
"Of course not, dorogoy," he agreed, one corner of his lips lifting in a slight but warm smile.
"So you see. It could be..." He let that ring out as he tried to imagine what it would look like and how it would work. It wouldn't be easy, he knew. Two stubborn Alphas under one roof... he'd have to keep them in check, but hell, yes. He wanted Sam with him. There was definitely a bit of selfishness in it, but even rationally speaking... after thinking about it all these weeks... it would be safer to have his pup with him.
"I want Sam back. I'm his family, and a family has to stay together no matter what, because what else does a person have but family?" He said firmly.
Castiel nodded thoughtfully.
"Okay, Dean."
"Thanks, Cas... " He showed his teeth in a wide grin and the sweet smell of a happy Omega wafted through the car. In response, Castiel pressed his nose into Dean's palm, closed his eyes, and let out a deep, contented purr. Dean wrapped his arms around his back and closed his eyes as well. His nose and head were filled with a mixture of their scents, full of contentment that made his head feel light and his muscles seem to soften.
"I'll do anything for you, moy sladkiy. Anything to make you happy," Castiel murmured into his palm before kissing her and pulling away a little. "You should call your brother now."
Dean opened his eyes reluctantly. It was fine this way, but...
"Yeah, you're right. I have to finally tell him that I'm single and that we're getting back together."
Cas had no answer other than to pull away. Dean let go of him, pulled himself up from his comfortable semi-recliner, and reached into his pocket for his phone. Luckily, the little Alpha had his phone back, and it was lunchtime at his school, so Dean had a chance to reach him. And really, it didn't take too long, his call was answered and Sammy's scowling face appeared on the screen.
"Sammy!" Dean greeted his usually grumpy little brother with a smile, and before Sam could answer his greeting, he simply pulled down the collar of his shirt to show that he wasn't wearing a collar. "Look. No collar!"
"Did you take it off?" Was Sammy's less than enthusiastic reply.
Dean wasn't surprised. He hadn't told Sam about Castiel relinquishing custody or his struggle to become independent. He didn't want Sammy to have false hopes if it didn't work out in the end. Not talking to him about it was much safer. But the little Alpha knew what he was in danger of if he took off the collar, and Dean could imagine that right now, behind that brooding and overly serious face, he was beginning to formulate a plan for another escape, and probably a plan for a lifetime of hiding from the Bratva and the cops.
"Of course not, dumbass," he replied quickly, before Sam could go any further in his musings and did so with a smile. "Castiel relinquished custody. And you know what else? We're leaving the courthouse right now, and Sammy... I'm completely free!"
The little Alpha's face went from somber to surprised and a little uncomprehending.
"I don't get it. What do you mean?"
"I'm no longer in Alpha's custody, and what's more, I'm now legally an adult. Do you know what that means? I can take you to my house...well, our house, actually," he corrected himself, glancing over the edge of his phone at Castiel, who had retreated to the other side of the sofa and was lighting a cigarette, watching Dean with that calm, somewhat unreadable expression of his. "So, what do you think, little brother?" he asked, lowering his eyes to Sam again and smiling at him enthusiastically.
He had expected Sam to be just as happy, but he didn't look it. There was an uncertainty and reluctance bordering on fear about him, a bit like when he had to go to the bathroom at night, past an open closet. It occurred to him at that moment that maybe Sam didn't want to leave his foster parents if he didn't have to, to run away with Dean, to escape the Russian mob and the authorities. And now that he thought about it, he wouldn't be too surprised. With his foster parents, Little Alpha got everything they'd never had in their lives. He had a complete family, a childhood and all that shit, but... Damn it! They were family. They belonged together. For better or for worse. That's how families worked.
"You don't look too thrilled," he said, a cold edge creeping into his voice that he didn't want to put there.
"No!" Sam exclaimed quickly, almost in panic. "I'm excited. I really am. It's just..." he paused here, but only for a moment. "Two Alphas in one lair is not good, and I'm... not sure... about me or him. I don't know how this would work."
"Give him to me. I want to talk to him," Cas spoke up suddenly.
"He's in there with you?!" Sam exclaimed at almost the same moment.
"'Yeah, he is," he nodded, glancing quickly at Cas, "and he wants to talk to you. I'm going to hand you over to him..."
"Wait! No! This... I...!" came out of the phone in frustration, but by then Dean had already handed the phone to Castiel. The Alpha lifted the phone so he could lean back comfortably in his seat and took a long drag on his cigarette before speaking.
"Samuel... I won't say I'm happy to see you in my lair, but I'm willing to try because I think it will make Dean happy. What do you think?"
There was silence, and Dean, who had shifted on the seat so he could see Sam's face, kept a wary eye on both Alphas and, in Case's case, on his scent, which remained steady and relatively calm. He was ready to jump in if one of the idiots wanted to get angry, but he was also determined to let them deal with it until they were really at each other's throats.
"I want Dean to be happy, too," Sam finally said reluctantly.
"Then I don't know what we're talking about, puppy. You're going to live with us," he concluded with his usual obviousness and then, without saying anything more, simply handed the phone back to Dean.
"It's not going to be that easy," was the first thing Sammy said as they stared into each other's faces again. "I can't just move in with you because your Alpha wants me to, Dean. It doesn't work that way."
He couldn't help but let an amused smile curl his lips, which only made Sam frown.
"You know, Sammy...the truth is, that's exactly how it works. What the Alpha wants, he gets," he said in all seriousness, experience had confirmed that this was true, it was just that the little Alpha didn't know how true it was yet and so he took a breath to protest. "I have to go now, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Tonight, for sure. And Sammy... start packing, buddy. Bye, bitch."
"Okay. Bye, jerk."
He ended the call, put the phone down, and looked up at Castiel, who was watching him with a slightly raised eyebrow. Dean smiled at him, and the Alpha raised his arm to indicate that he should approach. He didn't hesitate, sliding down the leather padding and letting the warm weight of the Alpha's arm rest on his shoulders as his Omega let out a contented growl. He had his Alpha, he had a damn perfect nest, and he was going to have his pup after all. Things were really starting to look up. Now they just had to get through the other boring paperwork that awaited them at Blue Sky.
°°0°°
He read every word carefully, even if he didn't understand exactly what he was reading. But somehow, now that he was a legal adult, he felt he should read every contract or other document he signed thoroughly. Sure enough, Shurley explained what it was all about. It was the paperwork that officially made him the owner of Blue Sky and the apartment above it, and the Gardens too, because apparently the Future Mating Agreement was one thing and the actual taking of the property was something else, but... He just wanted to know what it said, so he read it. And the longer he chewed on the nonsensical words, the more uncomfortable he felt, and the more oppressive the silence around him.
He looked over the edge of the few stapled pages at all the people around him.
Like when the cops had questioned him, sitting on that long sofa with Cas and Shurley. Exactly the same seats, in fact. Like then, there were also two of Alpha's men, namely Red and Mr. Eyebrows, sitting at the bar, but there was also Balthazar standing behind the bar, and one of the waitresses he didn't know. And all these people were watching Dean in one way or another as he silently read a contract he didn't understand.
"Okay, I'm ready to sign," he solemnly broke the awkward silence, put the paper on the table, grabbed his pen and started to sign. Legal leaned over the table and helpfully showed him where to put his signature, which was probably all over the place. Damn, wasn't one piece of paper with one signature enough? In the end, he must have gotten enough signatures, because Shurley took all the papers from under his arm and smiled warmly at him.
"Congratulations, Omega Winchester," he said, holding out his hand; Dean took it and shook it. "You have just officially become a very wealthy young man."
"Yeah?" he said half-questioningly, letting go of the hand and looking around the establishment and at the faces watching him. It was such a strange feeling, slowly realizing that this all really belonged to him, since... hell, the most expensive thing he'd ever really owned was his leather Nirvana wallet. And then, yeah, he drove a Baba, which was a really expensive car, and they had a Colt thatmade with his own hands, a real Samuel Colt, which was also worth a lot of money, but that was Dad's stuff. Not Dean's. And now he suddenly had two damn entertainment businesses, a huge apartment, and a few more million in the bank. Damn job! It felt incredibly cool to have so much money and so much wealth.
Grinning, he leaned back and looked around haughtily at all that was now his.
"Now that I own this place, I guess I could make some changes, right?" he said aloud, actually just joking, not knowing what changes he should make here. He didn't know anything about running a place like this - a few nights as a 'boss' in small diners certainly hadn't prepared him for the role of Alpha Club owner, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that it would - and he didn't want to interfere with Cas. He hadn't really meant anything he said, but the way Alpha's men looked at him, or the way Shurley suddenly lifted his head from putting the documents in his briefcase, or the shy smile that curved Frantic's lips... They all seemed to take it seriously, and the way the atmosphere suddenly thickened and the air filled with the smell of tension, it was clear that they didn't like it.
"Hey... take it easy. It was just a joke," he said quickly, trying to calm everyone down, their eyes darting from him to Castiel as if waiting to hear what he had to say. Dean turned to look at him as well, noting that the Alpha was the only one who didn't take his statement seriously, or if he did, he didn't show it. He was sitting casually on the couch, a glass of gin and tonic in one hand, the other half draped over the back of the couch behind Dean's back. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were squinted and the lines around the corners of his lips were deep.
"I wasn't serious about changing anything around here. I understand this place is yours, Alpha, and you decide," he said for good measure.
"I know what you meant," Castiel replied, moving the hand he had on the sofa to the back of Dean's head and rubbing it soothingly. "But next time, don't joke about it. Those who joke about it too much always force us to... let's say... terminate the contractual relationship, and that causes great complications for both parties," he clarified, not even needing to say that 'complications' for the straw man meant going for a walk with the crabs. "But don't worry. You'll get your piece of my business here in Blue Sky and in the Gardens. I assure you."
"No need for that. It's all right. I don't want anything."
The pressure on his neck increased a little, and there was a cold glint in Alpha's blue eyes.
"You'll get exactly what you deserve, dorogoy. I'm a respectful man, and I never cheat or steal from my companions. Or do you think I do?"
"No, of course not," he assured him quickly, not only under the pressure of the hand on the back of his head, but also under the force of his gaze, and to assure Alpha that he believed him, he lowered his head and gaze in a suitably submissive gesture. "That's not what I meant, it's just that you're already giving me everything I want. It's great. I love it. Seriously though... that's not why I'm with you," he added a little reluctantly, because it was embarrassing to say it like that in front of everyone, but the growl the Alpha gave was at least a reward for embarrassing himself.
"Come here, sladkiy," Cas grumbled and pulled him close. "I'm glad to give you everything you want. You deserve it for making me so happy," he said, as if it wasn't embarrassing at all to say it like that in front of everyone. "And I have another gift for you. Nikon, prinesi podarok Dinu," he turned to the redhead.
"Da, boss," Nikon nodded, walking around the bar and disappearing into the back door for a moment.
He reappeared a moment later carrying a box about the size of phone, maybe a little larger. It was wrapped in plain paper, the brown recycled kind, and covered in a considerable amount of clear cardboard, as if someone was afraid the contents might leak or get wet. It was a little strange, and it got even stranger when Nikon placed the package in front of him, and Dean could tell from the return address that the package had come from Rikers.
"Open it, Omega," Castiel urged him impatiently, leaning closer, nostrils flared as he inhaled Dean's scent. He seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say about the contents of the package.
He picked up the carpet knife from the top of the box Beta had left there for him to open and cut through the cardboard so he could lift the lid and peek inside.
He blinked in confusion and took in the smells coming from the box.
The contents were white, glistening crystals that could very well have been drugs - though he had no idea why Cas would give him a package full of drugs - but from the smell they were ordinary, table salt, and there was something else that smelled from the packages as well. It was definitely the smell of iron, but with it, surprisingly, he also smelled a hint of Alpha musk, a bit of angry bitterness, and a lot of really sour fear. And even though it was all covered by the salty smell, it was still distinct enough to confuse him. He didn't understand why the Alpha had given him a box of salt that smelled like a scared, strange Alpha, but he guess it made sense to Cas somehow, so...
"Um... thanks...?" He said as politely as he could, but he couldn't hide his utter confusion and, honestly, a little disappointment. Not that he needed gifts from Case, but yeah, it was nice to get nice things. Who wouldn't like that? Besides, everything Castiel gave him was really cool. Shoes, rock t-shirts, a cool Sex Pistols wallet, stuff like that. The packet of salt was quite a disappointment.
The Alpha made an impatient noise and waved at Beta, who was standing behind the bar.
"Bring a tray, Balthazar."
Napoleon pulled a tray from under the bar where the waitresses were serving drinks and brought it to the table. It wasn't too hard to guess that Cas wanted him to dump the contents of the package on him, so he picked it up, shook it a little at first, and finally tipped it onto the tray.
Salt spilled almost all over the tray, finally revealing the real gift, which was... something. At first, Dean wasn't sure what he was looking at. They were shrunken, brownish pieces of what looked like undried beef, only a little larger than meat was usually cut into so that it could be dried and salted well. But it certainly wasn't beef jerky. Why would someone from Rikers send him beef jerky on Castiel's orders? Then what the hell...?
Before he could finish the confused question in his own mind, his gaze fell on a white piece that had almost disappeared in the salt. A shiny, large, sharp Alpha fang with a bit of gum tissue left on the thick end and a tiny bit of salt-dried dental muscle. It had been torn from someone's jaw. From the jaw of the Alpha... And the only Alpha who could have been at Rikers was Evans. Then that meant the rest... the rest... shit! Castiel said he'd do it. He said he'd castrate Evans and cut the knot. Dean thought it was just talk. Just threats. He hadn't thought he'd actually do it, but still... right there in front of him... laden with salt... was proof of how serious his Alpha was.
Evans' fucking balls, his tiny shriveled knot, and his fangs. Everything that made an Alpha a real Alpha was there in front of Dean on a golden tray... okay, okay, not gold, silver, but fuck, it didn't matter what color the tray was. His Alpha, his fucking powerful and fucking killer Alpha, had done exactly what he'd promised. He'd made the bastard suffer and had Dean send proof of how much he was suffering. He stripped him of everything the Alphas held dear.
He made him a pathetic castrato, figuratively and literally.
It was supposed to be scary, and damn it, it was scary. After all, there were pieces of human flesh lying in front of him. Who wouldn't be a little creeped out by that? And it was supposed to be disgusting, which it was. But at the same time... a huge wave of something warm but also dark rose inside him, and his Omega howled in sheer euphoria, its howl penetrating his body and making every muscle tremble. His Alpha protected him. His Alpha punished the one who dared to touch him. His Alpha was fucking perfect, but he was also murderous and twisted and regardless of the fact that he knew there was probably something wrong in his head if he liked that... he simply loved his Alpha for that.
There was a contented purr at his side, and Castiel buried his nose in his neck.
"You like it, moy sladkiy?" He growled into his ear.
"Yeah. Hell, yeah..." he breathed, his voice jumping over all the sickness fighting in his chest. Pride and satisfaction along with fear and a hint of disgust. And arousal. Fuck. He stared at someone's cut balls and knot and his own cock began to harden and push into his pants. It was sick, Dean knew that, but hell, did it matter? No, it didn't matter here, in this society, among criminals, whores and Mafia lawyers.
He stood up.
"If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, we have something else to do right now," he turned to the somewhat surprised Alpha men before looking down at Case, who was also looking at him a little startled. "Let's go, Alpha," he said simply, not caring that it sounded a bit like an order, grabbed Case's arm and pushed past Shurley, pulling Alpha behind him.
Surprisingly, Cas didn't resist or complain, but let himself be led out into the hallway and up to the elevators. Dean hit the elevator button, and almost at the same moment, Castiel leaned over and asked, his voice a little amused:
"Where are we going, Dean?"
"To fuck," he growled in reply, and taking advantage of the fact that the elevator doors had just opened, he grabbed Castiel by the shirt and pushed him inside, whereupon he pressed the button to close the doors, looked into Alpha's eyes, and gritted his teeth, "I want to suck your cock. Now. And here!"
A cheerful laugh, similar to the sound of falling gravel, filled the entire elevator car for a moment before it became a wild growl in which Alpha bared his teeth.
"Such a bossy little Omega..." he snarled. "Kneel down nice and low so I can see how badly you want my cock."
Dean obediently dropped to his knees.
Chapter Text
"A mulatto, an albino! A mosquito, my libido! Yeah! Hey! Yay!"
Castiel glanced at the open bathroom door, which, aside from the humid air that even the air conditioner couldn't suck out, was pouring out...one could say with some optimism that it was singing, though he could hear the tortured screams more melodiously now.
The cell phone in the pocket of his pants, strewn on the floor, rang. Castiel sighed, rolled onto his side, and reached for it. He glanced to make sure it was Pyotr before answering the call and announcing himself in Russian:
"Yes?"
"Boss... what's that screaming?" Beta asked confusedly on the other end of the line.
Castiel's corners twitched in an amused smile.
"Dean's singing in the shower."
"Oh... well... very nice..." old Beta replied vaguely but politely. It was clear that he didn't want to offend Castiel's Omega in any way, which was completely unnecessary in this case. He had heard for himself how terrible Dean's singing was, even though Omega liked to sing a lot.
An amused chuckle crossed his lips and turned into a short growl.
"It's all right, my friend. I know Dean has many strengths, but musical talent is not one of them," he assured him amusedly, reaching into the fridge for a beer. "Why are you calling?" He asked as he pulled the cork off the bottle with a light tap against the edge of the nightstand.
"I don't have good news," Pyotr began, drawing Castiel's attention. "We have word that Winchester was seen here in town yesterday."
"Where exactly?"
"A bar in Brooklyn. Nowhere near our territory or your Omega."
"And you're sure it was him?"
He sipped his beer.
Winchester had escaped more than two weeks ago and hadn't been seen or heard from since. It seemed almost hopeful that he had been injured in an accident and died somewhere by the side of the road, but so far, no one had found him. But Castiel couldn't have been that lucky, and not only was old Winchester alive, he'd even made it into town. Now he'd have to make sure he got to his Omega and Samuel... though... If Winchester settled for his younger son, he could leave without meeting Dean. It wouldn't mean that Castiel wouldn't want to kill him anymore, but it was much safer to kill him far away from the city, and especially as far away from their territory as possible, than right in New York. It was the only way he could have no connection to his death.
"Absolutely. We also have him on video. What do you want us to do?"
"Find him and let me know," he ordered, cutting the conversation short as the bathroom door, which had been half open, opened fully and Dean emerged, along with an incredible amount of steam. He was naked, idly scrubbing his head with a towel and humming a tune. Droplets of water trickled down his well defined muscles that showed under pale skin dotted with tiny freckles. His hips were a little rounder than when Castiel had first seen him naked, and his shoulders were definitely broader, but he was still handsome. In fact, he was even more handsome than he had been the first day, now that his face had sharper features and his upper lip, chin, and even part of his cheeks were dotted with golden hairs that almost resembled stubble.
"Come here," he commanded as he put down his phone and opened his arms.
"I just took a bath." Dean mumbled, but by then he was obediently on his way and moments later on the bed and in his arms.
Castiel put both arms around him.
"I know. You can smell it all the way here," he growled, craning his neck. No more was needed, his Omega dutifully leaning down to wipe his scent glands against his still wet hair. "Much better," he congratulated himself as he sniffed the new mark, his inner Alpha grunting in agreement. The Omega had no scent on him but his own and Castiel's, and that was just perfect.
"Is something wrong?" asked Dean, reaching for his bottle.
He handed it to him.
"Net.”
"I heard you talking to someone on the phone..." he let out a faded sound after taking a sip and putting the bottle back in Castiel's hand.
"That was just Pyotr. Business stuff. Where are we eating tonight?"
"I'm cooking something."
"Really?" He raised a questioning eyebrow and cocked his head a little to the side.
"Sure. How do you feel about mac and cheese?"
"I've never had mac and cheese."
"Oh! Oh, darling, you poor little man. You don't know what you're missing! I'm going to have to teach you a lesson," Dean said with a laugh and kissed him.
°°0°°
Farah was just turning off the main road when her phone beeped. She took a quick look at the dashboard and read on the screen that she had a message from Miri.
"Read the message from Miri."
The message opened full screen and a robotic female voice spoke at the same time:
"Reading a message from Miri: We're at Monic's house. I'm staying for dinner. Her dad will drive me home later."
"Answer for Miri: Okay, sweetheart. Then write. Send a message."
The phone beeped.
"Message sent," the voice said, and the screen went blank.
Farah turned the corner again and pulled up in front of Samuel's school. She just had to pick him up for the day. Miri had gone to Monic's house to study, and little Anya was being picked up by her new best friend mom, who Anya was staying with for the first time. Actually, it was her first sleepover ever, and even though Farah was a little nervous, it wasn't like the first time Miri had been away for the night. She drove her to her friend's house herself, packed two backpacks with toys and food for her, and walked everywhere with her phone in hand until midnight, checking it a hundred times in case Miri wanted to go home early. She didn't, and Anya probably wouldn't either. She'd barely said goodbye before handing her over to Balla's mom, Tara, outside the school. A quick wave from Farah and she was in the car next to her new friend, tablet in hand.
She took her phone off the dashboard and looked at the wallpaper. This week it was an older photo of her two girls. Miri was twelve and little Anya was only two. Miri held her sister on her lap and showed her the old picture book Farah's mother had brought them that day. They looked so cute in it. Her little girls, growing up way too fast.
Her eyes slipped to the time.
She was already ten minutes late. She quickly shoved her phone into her pocket, got out of the car while pulling her coat from the passenger seat, and made her way to the school while putting it on. She assumed that Samuel would be waiting outside the school. He was incredibly punctual, almost morbidly so, and although he never, ever said anything, every time Farah was late, he had that look and expression... it was easy to tell he wasn't happy about waiting. But Samuel wasn't happy about anything. In all the weeks he'd been with them, he hadn't once really smiled. But the truth was, he didn't even get angry. And he was a teenage Alpha. Exactly the age when young Alphas began to get territorial, short-tempered to the point of aggression. Farah had read a lot of books about raising Alphas, since they'd checked the box on the questionnaire that they were willing to raise all subgenders. She was ready. She'd done breathing exercises and calming mantras, she'd looked into sports and martial arts groups, and the truth was, she'd even bought a stun gun. She wasn't proud of it, and the thought of ever having to use it terrified her, but the fact was that she had two other children, and from what she'd read on the beta parent discussion groups, a lot of them had gotten one, too. Most stun guns weren't powerful enough to hurt a ten-year-old Alpha, but they were powerful enough to calm them down. They broke the rage loop in their brains.
But in Sam's case, she didn't think it would ever be necessary. He was very calm, to the point of silence. When she didn't explicitly ask him to spend the evening with them, he was in his room, studying or quietly watching science fiction movies and TV shows. He spoke little, always politely, and when he growled, it was usually about things like not being able to untie a knot in his shoelaces or not being able to find one of his textbooks. He never growled at anyone in the family, and for Farah to be happy about it would at least mean that he was acknowledging them in some way. It would break down that barrier and they could somehow work together on Sam's traumas from living with his surely abusive father. The silence the young Alpha had built around himself was literally killing him.
As she thought about Sam, she arrived at his schoolyard and watched the students leave the building. She recognized several of them from the day she had first brought Samuel here and walked him to class. They were his classmates. She knew their names too, in fact, the names of all of Alpha's classmates. She'd looked them up online in the school yearbook. She wanted to be ready if Sam found a friend and talked about him. But he didn't talk about any friends from school. The closest they'd come to such a conversation was when he'd talked about him a few days ago, after he'd run off with his Omega brother. Few sentences, just mentions of long evenings together in a motel bed, watching soap operas while eating candy and chocolate bars from the vending machine. It was the most open thing he'd said to her in a long time, and unfortunately it was about his brother. The Omega she had met was exactly what she had feared. After all, he'd been taken into the Alpha's custody, and that alone indicated his troubled nature. Surely the court would not approve something so drastic unless it was absolutely necessary. It was clear that Dean was a bad influence on his younger brother, no matter how much Sam obviously loved him, since he was willing to steal and run away for him.
She looked at the clock on her phone again, then back at the school entrance. And frowned.
She was already late, which meant that Sam was late, too. She didn't blame him or worry, she thought maybe he had talked to some friends and forgot to be on time. But now the delay seemed too long.
She ran up the few steps to the teacher who was standing near the door, obviously checking on the younger students as they left.
"Hello... excuse me..."
"Yes? How can I help you?" The young teacher, definitely Beta, turned to her and smiled.
"I'm Farah Chaudhry. I'm looking for Samuel Winchester. He goes to this school," he said, and she knew that the name would mean nothing to this woman, so she continued. "He's an Alpha, twelve years old, about this tall," she practically gestured with her hand to show her height, "very thin, shoulder length straight brown hair. He was wearing jeans, boots, a flannel shirt, and a dark blue jacket over it. He carries this well-worn brown canvas bag...always filled to bursting and decorated with posters of various slogans."
"Aah! Sure! I know exactly who you're talking about." The young teacher's face lit up with understanding.
"And have you seen him now?"
"Sure. He left with your husband about ten minutes ago."
Farah frowned in confusion. Arif hadn't said anything to her about picking Sam up from school today, but maybe it was just a spontaneous idea. Two days ago, in bed, they had talked about how Arif should try to get over Alpha's hard shell. Spend some 'boy' time with him and throw in some 'man' talk. Still, if he decided to do something like that today, he would let her know. Maybe she'd just missed it.
She pulled out her phone and checked for a text from Arif, but no. The last one was from this morning, reminding her that he'd taken the last orange to work and needed to buy more.
Worry and a terrible suspicion grew in her.
She didn't think Samuel would be stupid enough to leave with a stranger. But there was someone he could have gone with. Social Services had warned her that Sam's father had escaped from prison.
She pulled up a picture of her and Arif on her phone and showed it to the teacher.
"Was it this man?"
"No. That's not him," the teacher replied, a little confused. "He was a white, very tall and muscular. Definitely an Alpha."
"And you let him leave with him?!" Farah exclaimed.
The man from Social Services showed them a picture of John Winchester, even though they were supposedly not allowed to, and warned them to watch out for him. Even the brief description fit him perfectly. Tall, muscular, the epitome of Alpha, that's what the social worker said.
"Yes... shouldn't I?" The young woman asked in an even more confused tone, starting to look worried. "It was clear that they knew each other. They literally fell into each other's arms, and your son went willingly. It must have been his father. They even looked alike."
"Yes, he was his father. His biological father. A criminal!"
"I... I didn't know... there was no note in your son's file saying to watch out for the biological father."
She didn't want to argue that Samuel wasn't her real son. By the time she explained it to this woman, it would be too late. Now she had to find Sam, or at least some trace of him.
"Do you know where they went?"
"Sure, over there to the right." The woman pointed further down the road.
Farah didn't wait for anything and started running, barely paying attention to the teacher who was yelling at her to call the police. Sam was the most important thing to her. She had to... she didn't know exactly what, because she didn't know what she would do if she came face to face with John Winchester, but she just had to do something. So she kept running down the street, looking in all directions to see if she could see the two of them walking to a car or getting into one.
She saw many people. Mostly children with their mothers and fathers, but she didn't see her child among them. Panic rose in her throat. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't have taken her child. Things like this only happened in crime dramas or on the news.
She stopped at the corner and looked left and then right.
She saw an old black car, some kind of American sports car from the seventies, coming down the street, behind the wheel of which was a huge man with stern features and close-cropped hair, and to his right, in the passenger seat, was Sam.
He just sat there, and as the car approached, their eyes locked. The young Alpha said something to his father, who turned his gaze to Farah, his eyes taking on a cold glint, and then the car accelerated and cut the curve sharply. Samuel was so close at that moment. It felt like he was almost within arm's reach, even though they were doing it all in one lane. Her heart skipped a beat and then suddenly sped up, sending a rush of adrenaline through her body.
She spun on her heel and started running towards the black sports car and her car, pulling out her cell phone as she ran and dialing 911.
The tinny music and the announcement that all operators were busy was the first thing that greeted her in the receiver, but thanks to Allah, the call was connected to a live person almost immediately.
"911. What's your emergency?"
"They're kidnapping my kid!" She blurted out, although she knew subconsciously that it wouldn't be enough, she just had to concentrate on the ever-decreasing car and the way Sam was slipping away from her.
"Okay, ma'am. Calm down and tell me your name and exactly what's going on."
"I'm Farah, and I'm outside... uh... Brooklyn Hills Middle School!" She finally remembered the correct name. "My... um... stepson, Samuel, goes there, and his biological father just picked him up."
"Does he have a restraining order?"
"No. No, he doesn't..." she replied absently, slamming the handle of her car door. She was sure she had unlocked it. Desperately, she pressed the button on the key again, glancing back to see where the old sports car was turning. The lock clicked and the handle loosened under her hand.
"If he's not under a restraining order, there's no reason -"
"You don't understand!" She interrupted the woman on the other side as she climbed into the driver's seat. "This Alpha... John Winchester... is a criminal. He was locked up until two weeks ago, but then he escaped. And now he's got Samuel and he's taking him somewhere. If you're not going to help me," she slammed the door and put the key in the ignition, "I'm going to take care of this myself. I won't let him take Sam."
"Whatever you're going to do, Farah, it's not a good idea. From the description, the Alpha could be armed and dangerous. I'll send a patrol to your location. Wait for them."
"I can't wait. I saw them drive away and I'm going after them," she refused firmly, stepping on the gas and swerving the car into oncoming traffic.
"Don't. It's dangerous. Wait for a police patrol."
"I'm not just going to wait. I have to do something."
She didn't know exactly what she was going to do, but as long as she saw the black sports car Sam was in, she felt like she wouldn't lose him, and anyway, following them was all she could really do.
"Okay. Be very careful and don't hang up," the operator instructed her from the phone thrown on the passenger seat.
Farah glanced in that direction, but then her eyes were back on the road ahead. There were four cars between her and Sam. She could see the taillights and the roof, but the sports car was too far away to not worry that she could easily lose it. So she stepped on the gas, slid into the next lane, and then squeezed in front of the car that had been in front of her. She heard the brakes and the honking, but ignored it and made another similar maneuver to get closer. It was going well. She was sure she could get right behind the damn car. Just as she tried to pass again, the black sports car accelerated sharply and the Alpha behind the wheel made some very dangerous maneuvers, easily putting another gap of several cars between them.
"What's the situation?"
"I wanted to get closer. He's probably spotted me and is trying to get away, but I'm still on him. Can you follow me?"
"Yes, I have you right here on the map. I've redirected the patrol in your direction. Try to follow them, but don't try anything risky," the emergency operator urged her. "Did you see the license plate?"
"A short distance. GR and then I think 68 and L."
"And do you know what kind of car it is?"
"I don't know. American make, maybe a Chevi. It's some kind of classic car, like from Grease. You know what kind I mean?"
"Yeah. And the color?"
"Definitely black."
"Okay. I'll pass along the information. What happens now?" The operator asked.
Farah gasped as she saw the black sports car accelerate and begin to squeeze between two lanes of cars. The Alpha driver squeezed it in as hard as he could and accelerated so that she could clearly see it begin to pull away from her. She tried to do the same, only her SUV...the same car she loved so much for its room for a family of four, airbags in all the doors, and built-in tablet holders...was too big to squeeze between the slow-moving cars. The traffic in front of her slowed when the light turned orange.
No! No! No! She thought desperately, her eyes darting between the traffic light and the receding lights of the car that was taking Sam away. In a vain attempt to disperse the cars in front of her, she honked several times. The cars didn't move. No one knew that they simply had to let her go or Sam would be lost.
The car in front of them stopped. Farah slammed on the brakes. It was red. She prayed in her mind that Alpha Winchester wouldn't be run over, but her prayers were not answered. The black sports car literally had to pass in the last seconds of the orange light and just pulled away down the street to the left, disappearing with the flow of cars.
It was gone. Irretrievably gone.
"I lost him," she breathed into the silence of the car.
Chapter 86
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Impala turned into a dirty side street. Old brick walls were covered with graffiti, garbage bags and some debris were piled up against the walls, and the only fire escape they stopped in front of was so rusted through that a rat would be afraid to walk up it. The smell of piss, poop, and sex that came through the cracked open window irritated Sam's nose and was also familiar, in contrast to the clean, smelling home that the Chaudhrys, and especially Farah, had provided. Farah was... nice. She may have smelled of Beta, but it was a scent that most people, Sam guessed, would probably associate with home and their mother. He liked her scent, and his Alpha had purred in approval since they first met, but the truth was that it wasn't really the scent of home. It smelled of woods and flowers. Like pine and birch. Like apple blossoms and wild roses. And gunpowder and whiskey and beer and gun oil. And burnt food.
"Take my bag, son," his dad ordered him.
"Yes, sir," he replied, reaching between the seats for the bag that lay on the floor in the back.
Dad had gotten out by now, so he got out of the car too, slung his dad's bag over his shoulder, and followed him deeper into the dirt alley. He followed him, watching him. He looked and smelled much dirtier than usual. It was obvious that he missed Dean's care, because he was the one who cleaned their Alpha's clothes at least once a week, who bought him shaving cream and toothpaste and a toothbrush and set them up for him at the sink, and he was also the one who prepared food for him and opened the beer and set it in front of him, no matter what his dad was doing. He bravely stood up to him at that moment, even though Alpha was engrossed in his hunt. That's why Dad's clothes were wrinkled, there was already a good bit of stubble on his chin, he smelled a little bit foul and his face was sunken.
"In here," Alpha ordered, pushing aside the chipboard that covered the broken window.
Sam frowned and looked inside.
The basement where the broken window led was dark, but in the little light he could see that the floor wasn't deep. He threw his dad's bag in first, then jumped in himself. He landed with a grunt and looked around cautiously. His Alpha growled nervously. Even though he could smell a little of his dad's scent, he'd been living here for a day or two, mostly he smelled wet plaster and rats, and that made him nervous, willy-nilly. Everything inside him tingled. Every muscle tensed, and even when he didn't want it to, a low growl came from his chest. This feeling... the tightness and warmth coursing through his body... his Alpha instincts waking up on their own... he hated it.
There was a thud behind him as his dad jumped after him. He turned abruptly and let out a growl, but it quickly died in his throat. Dad didn't like being growled at, no matter that this time the growl came on its own.
He noticed that the other Alpha was looking at him, it was obvious even in the darkness of the dungeon, but he said nothing, just walked around Sam and lit the camp lantern.
A whitish light illuminated the place, revealing what it looked like.
The walls were wet, spray-painted and crumbling, like any old dungeon. But the rubble and plaster had clung to the walls, so most of the floor was relatively clean. There were a few wooden crates that had obviously been used as tables and chairs, there was Dad's sleeping bag, some canned food, another flashlight, and... a single, real chair that Sam wasn't sure how Dad had gotten in through the small window. But that wasn't the most interesting thing about the chair. The stranger thing was that it had leather straps with padding attached to the back and front legs. It was ready for someone to be strapped to it.
"What's that for?" he asked, standing next to the chair.
His first response was silence, so he turned and met his father's gaze. His face was serious, almost grim, and as he stepped toward Sam, he cast a frowning glance at the chair.
"It's ready for your brother..." he said grimly, the smell of rotting flowers and the sourness of apple cider vinegar wafting out. He was angry and afraid. Sam could tell immediately, but that didn't stop his Alpha.
He took a fighting stance, bared his teeth, snarled and growled, "Don't touch my Omega! Anger clenched his throat so tight he could barely breathe. Everything was suddenly clear. Every detail was burned into his retinas. He could see every single beard on his father's face, the vein in his eyes, and most importantly, the vein in his throat.
Bite! Protect Omega!
"Calm down, puppy!" came a commanding tone through the haze. And it was as if an invisible hand had grabbed his Alpha and slammed him violently to the ground. In the same instant, as if by a snap, all the bright details disappeared and he was back in the dark basement, barely lit by a single flashlight. And he was breathing deeply and sharply, as if trying to catch his breath after a long run.
It was a little disorienting.
He blinked and lifted his eyes to his dad's face, hovering right in front of him. Their eyes met again and although the other Alpha didn't smile, he lifted his hand and placed it on the back of Sam's head in a gentle gesture. The touch slowly calmed his breathing as he closed his eyes and lowered his head. This was his Alpha, his dad, and he was safe with him.
"I want you to listen to me, Sam," his Alpha spoke. "I don't like what I have to do to your brother any more than you do, but I have no choice. We don't have a choice. I'm going to need your help, and I'm sure you're old enough to understand and handle it. Are you listening to me?"
"Yeah. What do you need help with?" He asked, hardly using the word 'sir' again.
"Your brother has come under the influence of a bad Alpha..."
"What?" Sam looked up. "That's not - "
"Don't interrupt me!" Dad ordered sternly.
Against his better judgment, he pursed his lips and pressed them together. He knew where his dad was going, and yesterday he would have agreed with him, but a lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and he'd changed his mind about Alpha Novak. He still didn't think it was good for Dean to be with him. He was a professional criminal and Sam had seen what he and his men were capable of. But he didn't believe that Dean was under his influence or that the Russian Alpha was trying to do that.
When he took Dean into custody, Sam was sure that all he had to do was rescue him from the terrible clutches of the criminal Alpha, and then Alpha Novak not only relinquished custody, but also helped Dean to emancipate himself. He gave up all the power he had over Sam's brother and agreed that Sam should live with them.That's not something the Knot would do.
And besides... Dean was as happy next to him as he'd ever seen him. There was no indication that Dean was under the Alpha's influence, maybe just... just a little in love.
"What I'm telling you is important, so listen," Dad spoke urgently, believing his own words. "Dean has never been one of those Omegas that are easily swayed, and I've always been grateful for that. For being the way he is... like your mom. But he's still an Omega, and the right Alpha, dominant enough and with the right scent, can gain power over him. And that's what happened. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw that Russian bastard bossing Dean around." A dark growl left his chest and the bitter smell of rage rolled out in a wave that made Sam instinctively tense, but no longer fearful. Instead, he felt resentment towards his father, and his Alpha growled in displeasure. But Sam didn't give in and continued to listen to his Alpha:
"We are Dean's Alphas, and it is our duty to help him. But it won't be easy. He won't want to give up his Alpha," He pronounced the word 'his' with support, "He's addicted to his pheromones and may have already mated. We need to break those bonds to free Dean. Now I'll tell you what we're going to do." He removed his hand from the back of Sam's head and went to his bag as he spoke. "I've been watching Dean for a few days to find the best opportunity to get him. There aren't many and he still has at least two guys around. I know of one though, just this afternoon. I'll bring him here. "He slid the clip into the Glock he'd pulled from his pocket, then slipped it into the holster at his waist. "Then we'll have to tie him up here to keep him from running after Alpha Novak. It'll take at least two weeks for the physical symptoms of the broken scent bond to fully appear, and until then we need to convince him that we're his family and that we want to help him.
Then hopefully Dean will be sane enough to leave with us voluntarily."
The plan sounded completely insane, even though Sam knew that was exactly what it was. If Alpha and Omega decided to break up, or if Alpha just left Omega, then there were special wards in AO clinics or even normal psychiatric wards for Betas. Or the Omega was helped by family or friends to break the bond.
But then there were cases of abused Omegas who either sought help themselves from a group of volunteers who helped them away from the Alpha bully, or there were also cases where the family of the Omega hired someone to find the Omega, kidnap her or hi, and then break her or him of any kind of bond with the Alpha. And that was what dad had planned.
"And you're going to keep him in that chair all the time? In this cold, smelly, dirty basement?" He asked pointedly.
"It's not the best, but we have no choice. Considering who Alpha Novak is, there isn't a motel in this town where we'll be safe."
"We're going to be here the whole time? Shouldn't we leave?"
"Novak will expect us to leave town with Dean, so he'll be looking for us everywhere but in town."
"And what if you're wrong?" he asked the all-important question.
"Wrong about what?"
"About this whole situation... about Dean and Novak. What if Dean isn't under the Alpha's influence and just wants to be with him? Of his own free will."
Dad's face darkened.
"Nonsense," he dismissed the possibility without even thinking about it.
"I saw how Novak treated him and how Dean acted. He wasn't my son anymore."
Dean talked about that. About rules and how he had to act in public. He had talked about how Sam had to act that way, but Sam hadn't listened to him and was against it. On principle, because the mere presence of Novak next to his Omega brother drove his Alpha crazy. But now that he'd been away from the other Alpha for three weeks, and especially from his unbearably thick, irritating, musky scent, he was finally able to really think and see the difference between how Dean acted in private when it was just the two of them, and how he acted in public. And it made sense to him. You didn't get to be an Authority in the Russian Bratva just because you were handsome. He had to be cruel, ruthless, smart, and he had to earn respect. And an Omega who didn't act the way the guys around Novak expected would only undermine his authority. Dean agreed to follow these rules so he could be with Novak.
"You don't understand anything."
"Excuse me?" His Alpha asked sharply.
"Dean is not under Novak's influence. He wants to be with him. He's in love with him, even if that sounds really crazy and weird."
"You're just a kid. You can't understand."
"I do understand, Dad," he argued, taking a determined step toward his father. "I am no longer a little kid riding around in the back of an Impala with toy cars. I'm almost thirteen. I understand more than you think. And I know Dean a lot better than you do. He's not under Novak's Alpha influence, he wants to be with him, and even if you kidnap him halfway across the country, he'll come back to him in the end, because that's Dean. He knows how to go after what he wants."
"You're talking a load of crap," Dad dismissed his every word as if he wasn't even listening, and with a sniffle, he tried to walk past him to the window.
Sam didn't know what had gotten into him, but he stepped into his path, hunched over, bared his teeth and growled. He didn't have to wait long for his dad's growl, or his dominant pose. He lifted his chin, straightened his back, and seemed to grow, filling every corner of the darkened basement with his broad shoulders, his very personality. Immediately, Sam felt helpless and small, and most of the fight in him was gone, but the small spark, the low growl in the throat of his inner Alpha, which had retreated to a corner, still remained.
And so he clenched his teeth behind his lips and wavered in his resolve, but did not back down completely.
It wasn't until his Alpha took a step toward him that he completely cowered and lowered his head.
"You will not treat me like this, pup," his Alpha reprimanded him sternly, and this time when his hand landed on the back of Sam's head, the touch was firm, forcing him to lower his head a little more. "Not until you're brave enough to actually stand up to me," with those words, the pressure to the back of his neck forced him out of the way. "I'm coming for your brother. Be ready."
Sam didn't answer and didn't move until he heard the creak of a crate being moved to the window and then the hum of the Impala's engine as it drove away. Then, with a quick glance, he checked that the exit was indeed blocked and his dad was gone, so he reached into his pocket for his phone.
He had to warn Dean.
°°0°°
"I just left it in the car. What's the big deal?" Dean cooed between bites of his chocolate bar.
"If your boss called and you didn't answer..." Yuri growled, pushing a cart full of groceries.
He had deliberately given him this harder job because he didn't like him. Boris just carried a bag full of beer.
Dean rolled his eyes at Ratty's complaints. So he'd left his phone in the car with his bag, and maybe Castiel couldn't get through and call him for an hour.
That wasn't so bad.
Cas might be overprotective, which part of Dean liked, but he wasn't a complete fool. The last message he'd sent him was that he was going shopping. The malls were noisy, especially now that there were carols everywhere, and they had two whole aisles of singing Christmas decorations that the kids kept putting up. It was big, too, so he couldn't get through it in less than an hour.
Their battered Toyota whistled as Boris opened it and Dean immediately went to the back to check his phone while Boris and Ratty went to the trunk to put their stuff in. At first he thought it was stupid to let others do a job he could do himself, but... hey, it wasn't that bad. Not having to jostle with an overloaded shopping cart, or trying to flatten the groceries in the trunk so they wouldn't fly from side to side and everything would fit. It was nice to leave those pesky little things to others.
He popped the last piece of candy bar into his mouth, wiped his chocolate-covered hands on his jeans, and fished his phone out of the space between the back seats. A quick glance revealed that Cas hadn't texted or called him, but there were several missed messages and calls from Sam.
He frowned and his Omega became alert. This was strange. Something must have happened to Sammy. His instincts immediately kicked in, and his imagination began to paint some horrible scenarios, like he'd been in a car accident, or less threatening ones, like he'd run away again, or been attacked at school. And it was with these thoughts that he called Little Alpha back.
The phone had barely rung when Sammy's strangled, growling voice came out.
"Where the hell were you?" Little Alpha barked at him angrily. There was no hint of fear in his voice, more like a flash of Alpha rage. Dean's fears were quickly dispelled, replaced by irritation.
"Ho-ho, is that any way to greet an older brother, bitch! Try again and better."
"We don't have time for this parenting crap, Dean!" Sam replied, still angry, but also urgent, so that he went from annoyance back to concern. "Where are you now? Can you hide somewhere or go back to Novak's lair quickly?"
"I'm in the mall garage, about twenty minutes from the apartment. What the hell is going on?"
"Dad's not in jail anymore. He picked me up at school and now he's coming for you. He thinks you're under Alpha's influence and he'll do anything to get you to go with him."
Sam didn't need to describe what their Alpha was up to. Dean got a vivid picture of it immediately. And he didn't think his dad was just dropping by for a piece of small talk if he really thought Dean was under Castiel's Alpha influence. Dad had never been very open to discussion, and when he made up his mind, he didn't change it easily. Eventually, he would have to confront him, but not here and now, and not in the way Dad wanted. And first of all, he had to get Beta out of Dad's potential line of fire... and actually get Dad out of their line of fire, but he wasn't that worried about him. Dad was Special Forces and he'd been through a lot of shit in his life. He could have handled Boris and Yuri without too much trouble. To their detriment.
"Noted. I'll call you later," he replied, breaking off the call, then quickly shoving his phone into his pocket and walking further out into the room so that Alpha's guys could hear him. "Hey, guys!" He called to them; both Boris and Yuri poked their heads out of the trunk. "Drop it and we're out of here," he ordered them.
Before Alpha's men could look around, ask what was going on, or do what he wanted them to do, Dean heard the screeching of tires behind him and immediately realized what a big, stupid mistake he'd made in backing away from the car.
He turned abruptly to see the van coming straight at them, his dad at the wheel. The back door was open, billowing in the air, and Dean knew exactly why.
Shit! He wanted to see his dad again, but not like this!
When the van braked hard, he didn't move. And oddly enough, it was his Omega that pinned him down, forcing him to face his dad directly, because... even though Cas wasn't here, he felt the urge to protect him, like he had at the bar, to stand up for him, even if it meant defying his own Alpha. Maybe because... maybe because Dad wasn't his Alpha anymore. Castiel was his Alpha now, he realized in a brief moment of confusion followed by an epiphany.
Unfortunately, the realization came at the worst possible moment, as dad nimbly jumped out of the car, grabbed him by the back of the head, and began to push him toward the back door of the van. It was clear that he hadn't expected any real resistance and wanted to do it as quickly as possible before Castiel's men recovered.
For now, they were probably still surprised, but it was only a matter of seconds before they drew their guns and started firing without question. Dean didn't see any way out of it, except maybe going with his father, but he refused to do that. He had to get free. His training kicked in. In the blink of an eye, he remembered his dad approaching him and clearly noticed that he was holding his right arm at an odd angle.
It was injured. It wasn't his forearm that was hit, more like his shoulder from the way he held it stiffly.
Weakness.
He used it. He swung his elbow back sharply, hitting dad's right shoulder right on the spot. The sound his Alpha father made was full of pain, but also surprise, and the grip he had on the back of Dean's head loosened. He took advantage of it immediately. He threw his head back, just as his father had taught him, throwing him off the concept - every hunter expects his prey to always try to run forward - and wrenched himself out of the grip.
He turned around.
He met his father's gaze and for a moment everything seemed to slow down. He could see the surprise and anger in his face, the things he'd expected, but he could also see the fear. Dad had never been afraid. He was the bravest man on earth.
Nothing and no one could scare him or even frighten him. He never smelled of real fear, only often of sadness and pain. Especially when he was drinking.
"Dad..." Dean gasped.
At that moment, the first shot finally rang out, fortunately hitting the driver's door. Then more came and more shots were fired. Alpha's men were firing like crazy, but luckily they had damn bad aim. Seriously, they were only six and a half feet away, a six year old would have hit that. Maybe they didn't really want to hit because Dean was so close that they might hit him by mistake, so they just shot all over the place, as far away from him as possible.
Yeah, that made sense.
Dad reached for his gun, turned in Yuri's direction, pulled the trigger, and the rat-faced Beta jerked backwards under the impact, the gun flying out of his hand and he fell to the ground.
"Der'mo!" Boris shouted angrily, but he didn't lunge at his prone friend, just backed up further behind the car.
Dad turned his gun on the other Beta. This time, Dean was sure that Boris' next shot would go straight for Alpha, and vice versa, that Dad would hit Beta right in the head.
"Stop it!" He shouted, lunging between them like a comp.
"Stop shooting!" He shouted, lunging between them like a complete fool.
It was the only way to get two shots off at once, and he was very lucky that both shooters were good enough to stop themselves before pulling the trigger. Anyway, Dean stayed between them. He could feel the ghostly barrel of Boris' gun in his back, and he was staring right at dad's gun. No, not really, he wasn't staring at his gun, he was staring into his eyes.
"Move, durak!" Boris yelled at him.
Dean gave him a cold look over his shoulder and spoke firmly:
"No!"
It was obvious that Beta was taken aback by his decision, because he gripped the gun tightly, the barrel dropping a little, but only a little. Enough to make sure Dean wouldn't try to fire again, so he turned back to his dad.
"Dad... Alpha..." he addressed him again.
"Come with me, Omega!" Dad replied with a firm command full of Alpha dominance, using his secondary gender, which he didn't do much of. He usually called him "Son" or "Kid", sometimes "Dean", but not Omega. When he did, Dean knew that something very serious was going on, or that he had done something wrong. And always the word and the commanding tone struck a chord in his instincts, as it always had. But this time it was different. Yes, he was eager to obey, and his Omega bowed his head as he always did when his father ordered him to do something, but there was no real submission. She was still on her feet, still defiant, still whispering: 'This isn't our Alpha anymore'
"I can't."
The Alpha's jaws tensed as he clenched them tightly, took one last quick look behind Dean, and then moved his ulcer with determination. The whistle of the bullet didn't keep him waiting long. It flew past his ear and hit the side of the van, leaving a ringing sound that echoed through Dean's head.
Dad took a step back, grunted, but didn't fire. Instead, he dropped the gun, backed quickly to the open driver's door, and slipped into the cab and relative safety.
"Wait!" Dean yelled after him, but his call was already lost in the growl of the old engine and the squeal of the tires as the van shot out of the parking lot.
He jogged over and turned in the direction it had gone. He saw it disappear quickly. One half of the back door closed on its own, but the other half swung from side to side until it finally swung down and slammed shut as the van turned sharply and began to climb the exit to the upper level and then surely out.
Dean let out a sharp breath he didn't know he was holding and his hand instinctively went to his ear that was buzzing, whistling, and half out of hearing. It was far from the first time he'd been deafened by gunfire, but never had a bullet flown so close to his ear. It spurred his heart into a surprisingly moderate gallop. What pissed him off even more than the fact that he might have narrowly escaped death was... shit! Dad's back!
After a month without a single message, after weeks in jail without even bothering to contact them through a lawyer, after Dean had ended up in the fucking Omega shelter because he'd left them alone... after all that, he'd come back just when things were starting to go well.
When he finally had something resembling a home in Castiel's lair and was determined to take Sam in and then be a family with him and Cas. Shit, he'd even spent twenty minutes yesterday staring at the damn piles of pillows they had on the bed, wondering how they were actually going to build a nest. And at that very moment, his dad had to come back and try to rip him out of his near-perfect life by force because he always acted first and asked questions later.
Fuck him! Oh, shit!
He clenched his jaw and a growl rose from his chest, but it slowly turned into a whimper, because... Dad had come back. Jesus, their family Alpha was back.
The air around Deane was filled with the familiar, revered scent of roses and birch, in addition to the scent of gunpowder. His father's scent, the one that had permeated his entire life, the one that had comforted him as far back as his memory could reach, and the one he'd missed so desperately and for so long.
"Shit! Blyet! Der'mo!"
"Shit! Perestan' barakhtat'sya, kusok der'ma!"
He turned at the loud cursing.
Boris was either just trying to hold Yuri down or seeing through his wound. Either way, Rat Face was cursing loudly in both Russian and English, thrashing and flailing his arms. He was alive enough to be seriously injured, but Dean ran over anyway and knelt down across from Boris.
"Stop being such a whiny little Omega princess and show me!" he barked at Beta, pinning him down much more indiscriminately than his buddy.
Yuri went silent, probably in surprise, and stopped thrashing around long enough for Dean to quickly unzip his tracksuit jacket. Underneath, he was wearing only a ridiculously huge tank top with straps so long that his entire tattooed chest was exposed, and the edge of the tank top, now covered in blood, ended somewhere below his nipples, which had large silver rings in them. It was quite disgusting. Not all the blood, the blood was okay. But Ratty's skinny body and those ridiculous circles on his nipples.
He grinned and opened the armhole where he could see most of the blood oozing out.
Despite all the red, he could still clearly see the grazed bullet wound running from front to back down Yuri's side, just below his armpit. And her sister was on the inside of his arm. The bullet had passed between Beta's body and his arm. He was damn lucky, because this bad wound was a combination of several coincidences. First of all, the wound Dad had on his dominant arm, which Dean had irritated with an elbow. And then probably the ridiculously large track jacket that made it impossible to tell exactly where Yuri's body was.
"Those ugly rags saved your life," Dean commented before unrolling the decorative scarf from his arm, crumpling it up and pressing it to the wound on his chest, which was slightly larger than the one on his arm. "You'll need a few stitches, but you'll live. Press your hand against your chest. That'll stop the bleeding," he instructed as he bent his arm at the elbow - to Yuri's theatrical groan - and pressed it against his stomach. "Now get up. We need to get out of here," he added, helping Yuri up with Boris' assistance.
Once the three of them were on their feet and heading for the car, the injured Beta turned to him with a teasing smile.
"I knew you liked me after all, little princess."
"No. You're a pervert and I don't like you, and if you'd been hurt any more, I'd have let you bleed to death."
"No, you won't. You're an Omega," Beta said with conviction.
Dean just snorted. He didn't want to deal with this ridiculous idea of caring Omegas right now. There were more important things to deal with. So he kept quiet, just opened Yuri's door abruptly and helped him inside while Boris circled the car and got into the driver's seat. Then he slid into the back seat himself.
"We need to inform the boss," Boris said as he started the car. "I don't know who this fucker was from, but he damn well had the nerve to try and kidnap Batyushka's Omega in broad daylight. And right in front of us," he growled angrily. All in all, he had said more in that moment than in the whole time Dean had known him, and it looked like he wasn't going to stop. "And you... you... stupid boy!" He chose his words carefully, although it was clear that he wanted to say something much more vulgar. "Don't you ever get in my way again, do you understand? You wanted to get yourself killed, and so you wanted to get us killed! Or what the hell were you trying to prove?"
"I just didn't want you to kill my dad."
"Chto?!"
"What?!"
It came from both Betas and they both turned to Dean.
"I didn't want you to kill my dad," he repeated calmly and patiently.
The Alpha men exchanged glances, then both turned away without saying anything, and an oppressive silence filled the old Toyota.
Notes:
Blyat! Der'mo! - Fuck! Shit!
Perestan' barakhtat'sya, kusok der'ma! - Stop rambling, you piece of shit!
Chapter 87
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He slammed on the brakes and the Impala came to a stop a short distance from several garbage bags. As the car jerked, a sharp pain shot from his injured shoulder up his entire arm. He growled through clenched teeth and clutched his shoulder. He dug his fingers into it until it hurt even more, but it didn't matter. The pain was welcome. It drowned out the pitiful whimpering of his Alpha. He had lost his puppies. He'd lost his boys. Both of them. Dean, his Omega, was in the hands of another Alpha and Sam had betrayed them both, putting his brother in danger instead of respecting John's leadership. What little was left of his family and his pack was gone.
He exhaled slowly, leaned back against the leather and closed his eyes.
He had nothing left. Nothing but the desire to rip the throat out of the one who had taken his beloved Mate, and even that desire wasn't what it used to be. It was no longer a burning rage that drove him forward. It was just constant pain, bitterness, and the stale feeling that he had to do something or he would go mad. That he had to protect his puppies, especially Dean, from Mary's killer. Only now... now that Omega had refused his protection, he suddenly felt that even this little piece of security, this pillar, had crumbled. And it didn't matter that Dean was under the influence of the Alpha. It still hurt to see and hear and feel his rejection. And to realize that he was rejected by his younger son as well.
He opened his eyes, let go of his aching shoulder and reached for his old, battered wallet. He opened it and saw Mary's photo. They'd taken it at the Fall Festival in his hometown, in that old photo booth. Mary still had short hair that fell in waves around her laughing face. She was so young then. They both were. John was still in his uniform. It was before the wedding, before he finally retired to be with his family. They had such a great future planned for them, and their dreams were almost coming true. They had a house, two beautiful boys, John had a steady job, and Mary was determined to go back to work in a year. It was going to be perfect.
It seemed so long ago now that he was, and should have been, happy forever.
He closed his wallet sharply.
This was the past. He had to focus on the future and do what was necessary to free Dean from Novak's Alpha influence.
°°0°°
After warning Dean, he briefly considered leaving, but he couldn't leave his dad. He was still his Alpha and his dad and he just couldn't walk away from him. Despite all their fights, despite the fact that he disagreed with him most of the time, even despite what he wanted to do to Dean. Because Sam knew that his dad believed that he was doing the right thing, and maybe, under different circumstances, he really would have. That the Alphas in particular could make the Omegas do things against their will and make them dependent on them was a fact. A real problem. And something that scared Sam every time he realized that he, as an Alpha, had that power, too.
Only with Dean it was different.
Yes, I suppose so, the scent bond of the True Mate definitely played a role. It was just biology. But Dean wasn't under Novak's influence. He didn't do what the older Alpha wanted because he couldn't refuse, but because he chose to submit. Just like Sonny said back then. Dean chose his Alpha. It wasn't the best choice in the world, but it was his choice, and after all... could anyone be surprised that Dean chose someone like Alpha Novak? A dangerous and dominant Alpha who was actually quite similar to their dad. Maybe not so much in looks, but in attitude and mindset.
The board above the broken window creaked and a ray of daylight streamed in.
Sam stood up and his Alpha growled in warning.
Rationally, he knew it was probably dad, but his instincts kicked in immediately, and even though this was hardly his actual lair, his inner Alpha told him to protect this place as if it were his own. So he stood cautiously, stepping back into the shadows to keep an eye on who might jump in.
Of course, it was only his Alpha and he wasn't bringing Dean with him. Or at least he wasn't bringing him now, he could still have him locked up in the trunk of the car upstairs. He needed to find out where Dean was. He shook his shoulders and clenched his jaw and stepped out into the light of the camp lantern.
Dad seemed to ignore him, just walked over to his things, grabbed one of the bags, tossed it on the makeshift table, and then pulled out a box of bullets so he could reload his magazine and load another. He only added one round to the existing one before he started filling another.
"Sir?" Sam intoned questioningly; the answer was only a sharp look, before whose dominance and power he lowered his gaze, but it didn't stop him from asking. "Where is Dean? Didn't you bring him?"
"You know damn well I didn't," the older Alpha replied, his footsteps heading straight for him. "You warned him. He and Novak's men were ready for me. You betrayed me, but more importantly, you betrayed your brother. Do you realize that?"
"I couldn't let you take Dean away from his Alpha," he argued.
A whiff of bitter rage, smelling of rotting rose petals, hit his nose with all its force.
"He's not his Alpha. I am his Alpha!" Dad said, and even though he didn't raise his voice - he rarely raised his voice - everything in Sam cringed at his words. "I'm going to have to do something drastic."
"What?" He asked in a rush of panic. What could be more drastic than his dad kidnapping Dean and holding him somewhere against his will?
"If he doesn't have an Alpha he wants to come back to, he'll come back to me," Dad said ruthlessly, sliding his gun into his holster and a second clip next to it.
Sam could only think of one way to stop Dean from going back to his Alpha. Kill Novak. He could say he didn't believe his dad was capable of such a thing, but he knew he was. He wasn't stupid and he wasn't little anymore. He knew more about his dad's 'hunt' than his dad or Dean thought. And if his older Omega brother ever thought that dad would bring mom's killer to justice, Sam wasn't that naive. He knew that if the older Alpha ever found him, he would kill him. Just like he knew that old, disgusting Alpha from Maine didn't just disappear. Unlike Dean, he remembered the name of the town, and when he finally put all the pieces together over time, he looked up the local newsletter online and checked the December articles. A week later, the body of a strangled Alpha was found in the house where they lived. Sam knew dad had done it. He was sure of it. And he didn't feel sorry for the bastard. And he didn't feel sorry for his mom's killer, who would meet the same fate. But Novak?
It was too dangerous for dad to try to kill him, or actually kill him. The Russian Mafia never forgot. Sam had read enough books about it to know that for sure. If dad kills Novak, everyone in the Bratva will be after him, and they'll be after Sam himself, and maybe even Dean. Not to mention what it could do to Dean if Novak dies. Letting the Smell Bond fade was one thing, but breaking it with the death of a Mate was something else entirely. Just knowing that your Mate was dead made the symptoms of separation a thousand times stronger.
"Now give me your phone. I won't let you warn him again," Dad challenged, holding out his hand.
He looked down at dad's palm.
He didn't have much of a choice when it came to the phone, but if Dad thought he'd stay, he was sorely mistaken. He was already determined to warn Dean in advance. But he pulled the phone out of pocket and handed it over without a word.
"Stay here," Dad ordered as he shoved the phone back into his pocket and climbed out the window without saying anything.
This time, in addition to the creak of a wooden board being pushed in, Sam heard his dad push something else in front of the window. He couldn't tell what it was, but when he heard the Impala drive away, he climbed over the low wall and tried to push the board away. Whatever was behind it was heavy and wouldn't move easily. But Sam didn't give up. He was determined to get out of here and warn Dean.
He dug himself deeper into the cracks between the bricks and pushed with all his strength. It was damn hard. The plank moved a little away from the tent, let alone moved, but Sam pushed again. He gave it everything he had. All his strength, supported by his angry growling Alpha. He could feel his muscles tense and his fangs slip from his gums, and he could feel the warm rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He pushed again.
Suddenly, the board came loose and literally flew off the window with a terrible clatter, including several paper boxes full of trash, debris, and other junk that Dad had piled in the window. Sam crawled out, stood up, and looked around at all the debris strewn about. He was... surprised at his own strength. He wouldn't have gotten out this easily before. Not with one hand. It was almost frightening how strong he was as an Alpha.
He looked at his own hand. He looked at it for a moment, then clenched it into a fist and looked up determinedly at the exit of the alley. He was the Alpha. He could do anything. And saving his brother was the most important thing right now.
He ran out of the alley and into the hustle and bustle of the city.
°°0°°
He didn't understand a word of what Yuri was saying into the phone, but his expression and the way he shook his head spoke for itself. Beta kept furrowing his brow in pain, but the seriousness he saw in his face was so unusual for him that he didn't even ask where they were going. And he wasn't surprised that they were going to Doll.
His own thoughts were on his dad and Sam. To the look their family Alpha had when he defied him and refused to leave with him. He'd never seen his dad's face like that. So scared and hurt, as if he thought Dean had betrayed him. But he hadn't... had he? Dad left and Dean did what he always did; he took care of Sammy. And he did that even after he met Castiel. He tried to survive, protect his little brother, take care of him. It wasn't his fault that things went horribly wrong after that, with Sun Hill and Alpha custody. There was nothing he could do about that. And he certainly couldn't change the fact that he had fallen so stupidly in love with Case. They were True Mate, and even if Dean hadn't believed it for a long time, he had at some point, and he and his Omega had felt that they belonged to Castiel. To his new Alpha. Not that he'd forgotten his dad or anything, it was just...
The car stopped.
Dean reached for the door.
"Net! Wait!" Boris admonished him, which were the first two words he had said to him on the whole trip.
He frowned, but not wanting to make life unnecessarily difficult for the Betas again, he waited until both of Alpha's men were out of the car and Boris had opened the door for him to get out. And even though he thought it was ridiculous, he let them flank him, lead him to the Dolls entrance and then through the locks as if they were really his bodyguards. It was ridiculous because he was already as tall as the two Betas and a good twenty pounds of muscle on the skinny Yuri. He could probably do security for them rather than the other way around. And he was probably better with a gun, too.
After the usual knocking and checking from inside, the door to the back lounge opened in front of them, and the first thing he saw besides Vadim opening it in front of him was Castiel standing in the middle of the room. Though Cas wasn't alone in the lounge - out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Pyotr sitting at the table and... shaving his head? What the hell? Why? - the room was filled with the angry smell of bitter almonds and a hint of the sour smell of fear.
"Dine... moy sladkiy," his Alpha said urgently, taking two steps beside him and cupping his face in his hands. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Alpha, I'm fine," he assured him in a reassuring tone, resting his cheek in his palm.
Cas measured him as if he didn't believe him, but eventually his face softened and one of his gentle smiles appeared in his eyes and on his lips.
"Okay... I'll make sure he never gets to you again," Cas assured him seriously, which had a tinge of sinisterness to it, letting go of Dean's face and preparing to turn to his men.
Dean knew he had to talk to him and explain that his father meant him no harm before Cas gave any orders, because once he did, they would be binding. And if he said he wanted his dad dead - and Dean believed he could give such an order, he wasn't stupid - it would be hard to take it back. And since he believed there was a way to settle this peacefully, even if he didn't know exactly how, the first thing he had to do was convince Cas that their family Alpha was no threat. And that he wasn't going to take Dean away from Castiel. Then he had to somehow convince his dad of the same. He had no idea how he was going to do that, they were both stubborn as hell bastards who Dean knew were capable of practically anything, but... at least he had some leverage over Castiel.
"Wait," he said half-loud, stopping him by grabbing his forearm.
Castiel gave him a disapproving look out of the corner of his eye.
"Can I talk to you... Castiel," he used his name because Cas preferred to be called by his first name, though Dean still tended to call him ''Alpha,'' especially in situations like this. "Lonely," he added, glancing quickly around the now quite crowded room.
For a moment it looked as if the Alpha wouldn't comply, but finally he nodded and spoke to his men:
"Idti. My khotim pogovorit' nayedine."
All the Betas, including Pyotr, left the lounge without a word. When Vadim finally closed the door behind them, they were indeed alone. Dean didn't wait for the Alpha to say anything, he dropped his shoulders to look harmless and walked over to him with his head tilted and his neck exposed.
"You're going to have to let me talk to my dad," he said flatly, bluntly, because as he had learned, Cas didn't like to beat around the bush too much. He was open and blunt, and it was best to talk to him anyway. "I'll explain to him how things are. What's between us. He'll understand," he said, hopefully convincing enough.
"He tried to take you away from me. He can't get away with it. Everyone needs to know that I won't tolerate him trying to hurt you," he said sharply, his bitter almonds emphasizing his words, but then softening a bit. "I understand he's your father, but if I let him get away with it, not only will my men think I'm too weak. Our enemies will think so as well. It's too great a risk. I must protect you. You are my Omega. My Mate."
"I understand. I do, and I'm grateful for what you do for me. And for protecting me, like from Evans, it's just that..." he took a breath and let it out slowly. "Look, he's my dad. He tried to kidnap me because he thinks I'm under your Alpha's influence. He was just trying to protect me..."
Castiel straightened and looked down at him, indifference on his face.
"I never used my Alpha dominance on you unless it was absolutely necessary."
"Yeah, I know that," he nodded immediately, knowing it was true. He remembered Cas doing it a few times, but it wasn't like he was trying to suppress him. Yes, okay, everything hadn't been great all the time, what relationship was perfect? But things had gotten a lot better in the last few weeks. He had as much freedom as he wanted and as much as was safe, or rather as Cas thought was safe. It was less freedom than Dean would have liked, but he'd somehow gotten used to having two Alpha men on his ass all the time, driving him everywhere and helping him with everything.
"I do, Cas, but my dad doesn't. Put yourself in his shoes," he wrung his hands, "and imagine what he saw when he found me... His Omega son is with an older Alpha who has his Betas watching him every step of the way. I don't know what they would think in Russia, but it's not like that here. I understand you're trying to protect me, but my dad probably thinks you're trying to keep me from running away. If you let me talk to him, he'll see that I'm okay, and I'll explain everything."
"I doubt that will be enough," Castiel argued. "Your father's not stupid, and I'm sure he's figured out who I am. Let's not assume you're with me, even willingly."
There was some truth to that, but on the other hand... Dad wasn't a complete innocent, and he hadn't raised Dean or Sam to be law-abiding citizens. And as far as Dean was concerned, he'd never had the impression that he expected anything different from him than Dean expected from his life. Endless travel, at most a job somewhere on a construction site or in a small shop in a small town. Sam... Sam was different. He and his father had expected so much more from him. But from Dean? In a way, having Case, a damn strong and rich Alpha, had ironically gotten him further and better in life than he or Dad ever expected. And that was something he had to explain to him, too.
"Possibly. But I still have to try. Just let me talk to him."
"No," was Alpha's simple answer.
Dean clenched his jaw.
"So, what do you want to do? Huh? Just kill him?" He asked angrily. The conciliatory approach obviously wasn't working.
"Yes, if necessary," Castiel replied without blinking.
Though he had expected it, he was surprised how openly the Alpha admitted it to him. After all, he couldn't really want to kill his father. This wasn't exactly... it wasn't like with Lisa. Lisa was just a girl from school, someone Dean barely knew, and if she died, the mut would feel sorry for her, but in the end he'd accept it. He wouldn't even blame Cas.
But Dad...
"You can't be serious? He's my dad!" He shouted in disbelieving protest, but seeing the coldness with which the Alpha looked down on him, anger rose in him, and in truth, even his Omega growled in defense of his family Alpha. Even though Castiel was his Alpha now, that did not mean that he and his Omega no longer cared for his father. "If you hurt him... if you do anything to him..." with a growl, he took a step forward and poked Castiel in the chest, "I will never forgive you. Do you understand me?"
"Absolutely, Omega," Cas replied calmly. "I acknowledge and understand you, but I'm going to do what I have to do. I won't let you be taken. Not by anyone, not even your father. You're mine."
"Fuck you! And fuck your Alpha possessiveness!" he barked angrily. "This is not about who I belong to. I belong to myself, and I choose who I want to be with. And I want to be with you, but that doesn't mean I'll let you do anything to my dad! I won't, you understand? I'll stop you!" He declared firmly, even though he partly knew that these were too strong words. He didn't see how he could stop Castiel, and the more he realized that, the more fear joined the anger. It really could happen. Alpha's men really could have killed his father. Eventually. Dad would defend himself, of course, and take a few of them with him, but even he couldn't handle the odds Castiel could send against him.
"You should go back to our place. You'll be safe there. I'll have you taken away," the Alpha replied to his threat as if he hadn't heard it and Dean had been raging at the bare wall the whole time, turning away to pick up the bell he had rung from the table.
The door opened immediately.
He took a quick look behind him. All the Betas had returned, except for Yuri, who had been replaced by Jacob. That meant it was Dean against four Betas and Castiel. Hell of a chance if he wanted to run or do something else. He wasn't sure what, but they said it was always a possibility.
"Take him home," Castiel ordered to Jacob.
"I'm not going anywhere," he refused firmly, determined to just stay put until the Alpha changed his mind, which...yeah, it was pretty stupid, but damn, did he have a choice?
"Otvedi yego ko mne domoy i prosledi, chtoby he ne kamudil," Castiel ordered his men, which of course Dean didn't understand.
"Zakazyvayte, boss," Jacob replied, and before Dean knew it, the more muscular Beta had grabbed him under one elbow and Vadim under the other, and with a "Come," they began to drag him toward the door.
"Shit! Let me go!" He fought them not only with words, but also with strength, and at least managed to wrestle away from Vadim, who he also growled at, causing him to back off a bit. It didn't have much effect on Jacob, though. He pulled him closer and leaned into his ear:
"Don't make trouble. Remember how it ended last time.You won't help your father, you'll only hurt yourself."
He turned his head to Beta, who was holding him, and looked into his eyes. He was right. He was damn right. Making a hysterical scene here wouldn't accomplish anything, but if he went willingly, he could at least try to escape. He's done it once, so why not a second time? And if he didn't run away, at least he would have the time and peace of mind to try to warn his dad.
With a sigh, he forced himself to calm down and relax.
"Fine. I'll go willingly, so let me go," he said, rolling his eyes at Castiel.
The Alpha exchanged a quick glance with him before giving a slight wave of his hand, indicating to Jacob that he could let him go. Dean pulled away just as he felt the grip of the fingers digging into his arms loosen, jerking his shoulders sharply, causing his jacket to slip off, and without anything else, he turned to leave.
He walked through the door that Boris had opened for him and without a backward glance, followed by his usual security Betas guard , he walked through the restaurant.
Notes:
Idti. My khotim pogovorit' nayedine. - Go. We want to talk in private.
Otvedi yego ko mne domoy i prosledi, chtoby on nikuda ne ukhodil - Take him to my apartment and make sure he doesn't run away.
Zakazyvayte, boss - Aye, aye, boss.
Chapter Text
He watched as Dean retreated and his Alpha whimpered something about losing his Mate and his Omega preferring another Alpha, which made him growl and his gums tingle at the same time. He pushed his Alpha down and, showing none of what he was feeling, turned to Pyotr, who was now at his side.
"How is it possible that Winchester made it to Dean?"
"We couldn't find him. If we had, he would be dead by now," Pyotr replied.
"Do you understand that this is the worst-case scenario? If Dean knows he's out of prison and has met him, and if he thinks I can't keep his father alive, it only complicates things. I don't want him to associate me with Winchester's death in any way."
"We can still try to kill him somehow...cleverly, make it look like an accident," Pyotr suggested, and it was clear that he was trying to be supportive, but all his stupid suggestion accomplished was to make Castiel even more angry.
He bared his golden fang and growled, causing Beta to immediately slump and lower his head and gaze.
"Dean isn't a stupid, naive Omega. If his father dies now, he'll never believe it was an accident," he brushed off the ridiculous suggestion.
The hulking Beta had nothing to say, surely he knew how smart Dean was, and so silence fell between them. In the silence, Castiel felt the stares of his men, waiting for his next instruction, all the more intensely. He had to think about what to do and what he wanted to do, so he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. He took one out of the pack and lit it.
He inhaled the pleasantly warm smoke, held it in his lungs, and then let it out slowly as he thought.
He wanted John Winchester dead. It was the only way to ensure Dean's absolute loyalty, for if there was no other Alpha who could be Dean's Alpha, then he would belong to Castiel forever. The problem was that it was abundantly clear that Dean would not come to terms with his father's death at Castiel's hands easily, if at all. It was safe to say that his laziness had cost him an opportunity to get rid of Winchester without Dean knowing who'd killed him. He should have taken care of Winchester personally the moment they first found out where he was. But throwing ashes at his head now wouldn't help. It was necessary to deal with things as they came, not to dwell on what would have happened if he had done something he hadn't.
Now Dean knew that his father was at large, and Castiel's options were somewhat limited by the fact that the old Winchester had tried to kidnap Dean. The Winchesters couldn't get away with it because no one was allowed to touch Castiel's property, but there was a solution to the whole situation. Winchester would not escape his punishment, but he could postpone his punishment while he showed Dean what his father valued more than his son.
He took another drag on his cigarette and turned to his Lieutenant.
"How's Yuri?"
"It's just a scratch. He's in the kitchen and Ulyana Leonidovna is taking care of him."
"Good." He nodded. "Get him to a doctor. I want my men to have the best care."
"Of course, Batyushka."
"Now, about Winchester..." he began, just as the Russian's phone began to ring in his pocket.
He turned the cigarette to his left hand and reached into his pocket. On the display was a number he didn't recognize and didn't have listed. That was strange. Only a few people whose numbers were either in his list or he remembered had the number of this phone. Even Dean didn't have it, because he didn't want to involve his Omega in business matters. It was too dangerous for all of them.
He briefly considered not answering the call, but decided he'd rather take the risk than not know who was calling.
"Excuse me, my friend," he said out of the corner of his mouth to Pyotr, tapped the button, put the phone to his ear and said in Russian, "Yes?
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment before a deep voice, thick with alcohol and smoking, came on, its intonation clearly revealing that it was the Alpha speaking.
"Novak," it wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Castiel had nothing to say, so the voice on the other end continued, "I take it you know who I am?"
"Yes," he nodded. There could be no doubt. He was talking to Winchester. He knew it not only by reason, for though his number was hard to get, it was not impossible, and old Winchester was a man who could get it. He knew it mostly by instinct. His Alpha reared up with a warning growl and bristled all over, and all he wanted right now was to find the other Alpha and rip his throat out before he could get to Castiel's Omega.
He pushed back his Alpha and his desire to growl before the actual growl came out of his lips.
Letting his anger and instinctive need to protect Dean get the better of him was the worst thing he could do, even though he knew full well that he was unfortunately prone to it. To let himself be controlled this time would be to waste the perfect opportunity that had presented itself.
"So even you know what I want. I'll send you the address where we'll meet in an hour. Just the two of us," Winchester said, ending the call.
He slowly removed the phone from his ear and looked at the screen. It wasn't five seconds before he received a message with a link to the exact coordinates of the meeting place and a note that they would meet on the third floor. With a single tap, he found that it was a parking garage about forty minutes away on a sharper drive and conveniently located near the Gardens. That meant he had plenty of time to stop there and pick up what he needed to prove to Dean who his father was.
"Who was that?" Pyotr asked.
He gave him a sharp look.
"I have something to do now. In private. I'll talk to you later," he replied and started for the door.
"Was it Winchester?" the burly Beta stopped him with his question.
Actually, it was only half a question, so he didn't even have to answer, but Pyotr deserved to know.
"Yes. He was," he nodded as he turned to him.
"He wants to meet, doesn't he" again it wasn't a question. "Where? I'll send my best men and they'll take care of him."
"No," he refused without hesitation, drawing a surprised look from Beta. "Winchester is my personal problem. I don't want to involve the Brotherhood anymore. I'll handle it myself."
"With all due respect, boss," Pyotr drawled politely, taking a step toward him. "If you meet with Winchester, that's our problem. If, God forbid, something happens to you, we lose command. We can't afford that right now. With Alastair and all."
"No. I've already made up my mind. I'll meet him alone," he refused for the second time, and when he saw Beta take another breath in protest, he suppressed the primal instinct to growl and instead forced himself to relax and step closer to Pyotr. "I'll be fine," he assured the older man, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a firm but friendly squeeze to reassure him. He couldn't detect his scent despite the perfume, which was annoying, but the look in his eyes and the grimly furrowed, thick eyebrows spoke for themselves. "And if I don't, you will take command. You know my plans. You helped me with them, and I can count on you for Dean, too."
"I don't like it. It's dangerous. We've seen what this guy can do."
"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, too," he assured him, patting him on the back before putting his hand back. "I'm leaving... and Pyotr, don't try to follow me. That's an order."
"Yes, Batyushka," the old Beta nodded.
With a quick glance he checked the others to make sure they understood what he wanted them to do, then he left through the door Boris had opened for him.
°°0°°
The cold bit into his injured shoulder. He grunted and rubbed it. At that moment, one of the sails rustled more than usual, setting John's instincts and training into overdrive, and he turned sharply in that direction, reaching for his gun. He gripped its handle and searched his eyes through every single fold of the white sails that covered the broken reconstruction, looking for signs of anyone alive. It took some time before he was sure it was just the wind, and so he relaxed. And turned back to where he thought Alpha Novak had come from.
He'd chosen that spot because it was close, so he could be sure he'd be the first to arrive, also because it was uncluttered, easily accessible - who would watch over the reconstruction of one of the garage floors? - and practically deserted at the time. No one would see or hear Alpha Novak's throat being ripped out or a bullet being put into his head. But before that, he wanted to meet him face to face. He wanted to meet the man who had taken his Omega. Who hurt his puppy. He wanted to look into his eyes, he wanted to know his voice, and he wanted to remember, just like he remembered the last Alpha who dared to touch Dean.
He heard the growl of an approaching car's engine. So he took a step back and hid in the shadow of the column and also under the tarpaulins that covered the construction machines. A bright red Ferrari, estimated to be a model 812 Superfast, drove slowly out from among the discarded construction materials into the only space clear enough to park and exit comfortably.
The driver's side door opened and Alpha Novak stepped out.
John had not only seen him in photographs, but had glimpsed him briefly in the garage, but this time he was able to get a good, calm look at him. He wasn't much taller than Dean and there was certainly nothing imposing about his physique. No muscles or massive jaw that told of a solid bite and big fangs. But there was something dangerous about him, something that didn't really fit in with the snobby automobile, and that made John's inner Alpha perk up and growl in warning, yesterday and today. Alpha Novak was many things, but he wasn't weak, and since he really came alone, he wasn't a coward. John had to admit that, however reluctantly.
The other Alpha slammed the door, walked around the car and pulled a plain black backpack out of the passenger window, which looked full. Probably not with weapons. It looked too light and mostly soft for that.
Novak held the backpack by the straps and took a few steps away from the car.
"I know you're here, Alpha Winchester. I can smell you," he spoke into the roar of the wind and the rustle of the sails.
John made no reply, but slowly came out of his hiding place and faced his adversary.
He looked into his eyes.
Novak's cool blue eyes held firmness and steadfastness, along with ruthlessness and clear warning. He stood straight, in an Alpha pose that teased John's instincts, but in reality the other Alpha showed no aggression. Even as he took in the scent the wind brought him, he could only smell sour cherries, bitter almonds, and the undercurrent of burnt fruit. No anger, no exaggerated displays of dominance, but also no indication that his opponent was willing to back down.
This strange calmness he hadn't expected from Novak made him, and more importantly, his Alpha, nervous. His opponent was different from what he knew of him. Who the hell was this guy? And what exactly had he been up to when he'd come here?
The answer to the second question came immediately,
Novak threw his backpack between them, as far away from him as possible and as close to John as possible.
"One hundred and fifty thousand in used bills. Twenty and fifty dollar bills. Unmarked, untraceable. Take it and leave town."
John's Alpha growled angrily. The sonofabitch had dared to suggest he'd be willing to sell his own son and still valued Dean at a measly one hundred and fifty thousand.
"You want to buy Dean?" He asked, suppressing the urge to snarl. He wanted to hear it from Novak's own mouth. He wanted to be sure, and he wanted to remember his words so that he could repeat them to Dean exactly when his boy was able to perceive properly again.
"If that's the only way to get you out of his life..." the other Alpha replied calmly.
"One hundred and fifty is not enough. Dean is worth a lot more than that. I want at least two hundred," he said, although he hated this haggling and looked defiantly into Novak's eyes.
"Okay," Novak replied without hesitation, surprising John a little; he'd expected him to haggle or just tell him to go to hell with his demand. "I'll get the other fifty, but I need an hour. Shall we meet back here?"
John narrowed his eyes.
"What if I want more? Double that, maybe a quarter of a million," he suggested, curious about Novak's answer.
The other Alpha didn't blink or even move a muscle in his face, and the scent the wind carried to John didn't change either.
"That's no problem, but I need more time to get that much money."
This time he let a dark growl escape his lips. The fucking bastard really thought he could buy Dean.
"My puppy is not for sale, you bastard!" John snarled through bared fangs, reaching to his side and pulling out his gun.
Fucking pain shot from his shoulder to his fingertips, slowing him down enough that he knew he'd missed when he pulled the trigger. Novak was like a damn weasel. He shuffled to the left, away from his car, toward the tarps and the silent mixer, drawing his own gun as he went. John saw the dim silver flash of the barrel. Then the shot came, and a chunk of concrete column shattered behind him.
Novak missed, even though he was so close.
John was lucky.
In an instant, he ducked behind the pillar.
He leaned against it and rubbed his shoulder again. The damn arm was slowing him down and completely ruining his aim. If it hadn't been for her, the bastard would have had a hole in his head by now.
He grabbed the gun again and peered out from behind the cover.
The other Alpha was nowhere to be seen or heard, but he was probably still hiding behind the mixer. If he could get to the next column, he'd have a better view, but that meant exposing himself as a target. He had to trust that Novak was as bad a shot as he seemed.
He bounced his back off the pillar and made a dash for the other one. Several shots followed, whizzing past his back and head. He crouched down slightly to make himself even less of a target, but by then he was almost safe behind the tarps hanging from the scaffolding anyway. One more step and he was behind the second pillar.
He glanced up briefly to make sure he had a good view of Novak crouched behind the mixer.
He stepped out from behind the pillar and fired without hesitation.
The first bullet ricocheted off the mixer, the second hit Novak's feet, and the third whizzed by somewhere near the head of the other Alpha, who rose in a flash and disappeared between the tarps on his side of the scaffolding.
Fuck! He missed... though... He inhaled the air, filled with the smell of gasoline, technical oil, mortar and welding, and now enriched with a hint of salt and iron. Blood! his Alpha snarled happily, and John pursed his lips in a smile.
He might not have sent the bastard down, but he had the first blood on his hands, and that counted.
Determined, buoyed by his small victory, he moved slowly forward.
The sails hanging to his right partially obscured his view, but they also shielded him from Novak. Besides, he was pretty sure that his opponent had retreated to the part of the construction site that was located at the exit to the lower level of the garage. He probably wanted to make a cowardly escape, now that he saw that the going was really tough. John wouldn't let him, of course.
He hurried to catch him and that was probably the main mistake. That, and the fact that he hadn't expected someone armed to put his hands in front of a gun. That's why he was almost too late to notice Novak's shadow flickering behind the tarp. He still had time to swing his weapons in his direction, but by then the weight of the attacking Alpha had fallen on him, sending him flying toward the wall and the scaffolding that supported it.
He slammed his shoulder into a metal beam.
The weapon fell from his hand, hitting the concrete with a loud clatter and rolling out of reach. Novak pushed at it with all his strength. John took a deep breath, his muscles tensing, and tried to shake his opponent off. But Novak pinned him to the metal beam of the scaffolding, which creaked and swayed under their combined weight.
John growled through clenched teeth, wanting to spit out a curse, but he didn't get the chance. Castiel waited for nothing and slammed his fist into his side. The blow was quick and hard, sending a wave of pain through his ribs and into his lungs. John inhaled sharply, his fists clenching on Castiel's shirt, bringing their foreheads together.
Before Castiel could recover, John attacked. His fist swung through the air and caught Castiel square in the jaw.
The other Alpha staggered back, but didn't stop for a moment. He crouched, opened his mouth in a loud snarl, revealed two full fangs, one his own and one golden, and fixed red eyes on John.
Retaliation was instinctive for him anyway. His Alpha demanded his space and his fight, but in the rational recesses of his mind he knew this was damn unexpected. He hadn't thought the bastard would just give up on Dean. No Alpha was willing to give up what was his, he just hadn't expected the kind of pure, instinctive rage he could smell in Novak's scent. The air was filled with an almond bitterness mixed with his own scent of rotting leaves, but also an acidity that reminded him of despair. But it wasn't his despair.
Novak growled again and lunged forward, like an attacking Alpha, not someone who knew how to fight. That was why his first attack wasn't hard to cover, but the fury with which Novak came at him was as intense as he'd ever seen it. And he'd been in a few Alpha fights. Only those were more like drunken brawls. This was more... primitive. And as he pinned Novak against the wall, trying to avoid his snapping jaws, he realized that he was fighting for the safety of his pup, but Novak... Novak was fighting for Omega.
The realization was damned shocking.
Jaws full of sharp fangs snapped shut close to John's face. He barely had time to duck and land a hard fist to Novak's ribs. Then he struck again and again, a snarl on his lips and determination pulsing through his veins. But Novak didn't give up, grabbing John's jacket and refusing to let go. So John kicked forward, hitting him in the lower abdomen, just short of the groin.
At that point, Novak finally let go, giving him a chance to take a half-step back and swing for a good punch aimed right at his opponent's nose. He was determined to knock out his teeth and beat the last breath out of him, convinced that he had to succeed. His Alpha could already smell victory. He could already see his fist in the man's face when suddenly... Novak dodged and skittered aside like an eel.
John's fist slammed into the wall, the concrete shattering under the force of the blow, and a cloud of dust blew straight into his eyes. He lost sight of Novak for a moment, just catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye that he was trying to get to his back.
He turned around.
He saw Novak reaching for a large can of paint, and the next thing he knew, he was hurling it at John. John managed to duck, but the can shattered on the concrete next to him. The paint spilled onto the ground, leaving a slippery blue puddle in its wake.
"Missed," John growled, lunging forward.
He swung and slammed his fist into Novak's stomach. He ducked immediately, opening John up for another attack. He followed up with another punch, this time directly to the face, hitting Novak's nose and drawing blood.
The second Alpha didn't back down, but instead broke free of John's grip, drove his knee into his stomach, and pulled him to the side with all his strength. John crashed into the wall next to them, but despite the pain, his instincts kept him going. The two clashed again, fighting tooth and nail, each attempt more violent than the last. The metal tubes of the scaffolding began to sway under their force, the tarps shrouding them in darkness and the dust floating in the air like mist.
John grabbed Novak by the collar and threw him violently against one of the supports. Novak slammed his back into the metal bar with such force that the entire structure shook, but he still held on. John quickly approached, grabbed him again, and without hesitation pinned him against the railing at the edge of the floor. Castiel lost his balance, his hands clutching desperately at the metal barrier, but John wasn't about to give up.
"You're not getting my boy!" John growled, clenching his fists around Novak's jacket. He looked up at him with a mixture of anger and defiance in his eyes, breathing heavily, blood trickling down his chin.
"I got him!" Novak snarled back defiantly, his voice as clouded by bared fangs as John's had been.
The sentence enraged his inner Alpha. He sent enough strength, but mostly determination, into John's arms to lift his enemy and throw him over the railing.
Castiel flew through the air and landed with a deafening thud on the hood of a car parked on the lower level. The hood collapsed under his weight, sending glass flying in all directions, and the sound of cracking metal echoed through the parking lot. For a moment, Novak seemed to stay down, but after a few breaths, as the dust finally settled, he began to move. He slipped off the shattered hood, or rather fell to the ground, and for a moment it seemed as if he would not be able to move any further. But then he struggled to his feet, supported by the broken car.
Gritting his teeth, John grabbed the remains of the railing and climbed onto the concrete, ready to go down the easiest way, but that's when he saw a car appear in the driveway.
He couldn't jump in after Novak and continue the fight. The two fighting Alphas would be seen by the driver of the car and she would surely call the police, and that was the last thing he wanted.
So he jumped back down to the construction site and ran for his gun, which must have been lying somewhere among the half-collapsed scaffolding and torn tarps. He wasn't going to let Novak get away.
He quickly searched the wreckage of the construction site, found his gun, and ran for the exit to the lower level, checking the magazine. He had three bullets left. Enough to kill Novak with one shot, if he was lucky. But he didn't have much hope. His hand was on fire and it was difficult to grip the butt of the gun, not to mention how his chest hurt. It hurt to breathe. He probably had a broken rib or two.
Despite the pain, he ran down and put the gun along his thigh and slowly made his way around the parked cars, pretending to just walk to his car while his eyes searched the dark corners and also tried to follow the woman who had just gotten out of her car and started to do something in the trunk. If only the damn Beta hadn't gotten involved!
He pursed his lips and swerved around her in a wide arc. Partly because he didn't want her to notice the gun, but also because if Novak was watching him - and John was sure he was - he wasn't going to attack in front of a witness.
He walked over to one of the pillars, leaned against it slightly to ease the pain, fingered the trigger and looked around.
Where was that bastard? He couldn't have been in that condition to get anywhere fast. He definitely had a few broken bones and a gunshot wound in his upper left arm. Maybe he'd escaped through an emergency exit, he thought, so he headed for it. But he hadn't taken five steps when he heard the familiar whine of a Ferrari engine behind him.
He turned sharply to see the red sports car speeding down from the top floor.
Damn job! Novak must have slipped right under his nose like a damn little rat. It would almost be admirable if this were a different situation and if this wasn't about Dean. In any case, John wasn't going to let him get away with it.
He jogged back and this time, oblivious to the fact that he would have witnesses, he stood right in front of the approaching car. He raised his gun, gripped it tighter, looked Novak straight in the eye through the sights, and pulled the trigger. The first shot went off in the window frame. The car's brakes screeched as the other Alpha jerked the wheel and the engine roared as he stepped on the gas.
John didn't even blink and fired a second time.
The windshield shattered, but he could still see Novak's face through it, the parted lips and the wildness in his red eyes. So he clenched his jaws and took aim a third time. But at that moment, Novak jerked the wheel to the side.
John blinked, then his gaze shifted sideways and he understood immediately what the other Alpha had done. He pointed the car at the woman behind his own car instead of at him, a terrified look in his eyes and on his face.
He had two choices, get the Beta out of the way or try to kill Novak. He only had one bullet left and he couldn't rely on his crippled arm.
Fuck!
This was all he could wait for. He lunged across the path of the rapidly approaching car, grabbed the crouching woman, pulled her to her feet, and pulled her violently behind one of the pillars. He pinned her there and covered her with his body. As he did so, he heard brakes and tires screeching behind him. He turned his head to see only the taillights of Novak's car.
The sonofabitch had gotten away.
Chapter Text
Angrily, he swiped the card through the slot, punched in the code, and pushed open the apartment door. The whole time, including the elevator ride, he had Vadim and Jacob close behind him, so he saw them more than ever as prison guards preventing his escape. But now, now he could finally get rid of them. They'd be back in the car, and that would give him a chance to figure out a way to escape and stop those two stupid Alphas before they hurt each other. Or worse.
He walked into the apartment and tried to slam the door behind him, but Jacob caught him and wouldn't let him.
Dean scowled at him.
"We're supposed to be watching you," the more muscular Beta explained, and he crossed the threshold of the apartment with a commanding stride.
Dean didn't back away from him, though, blocking both of them from going any further. It wasn't just that he needed them to get the hell out of here to give him a chance to escape, it was also that this was his nest and damn it, no one was going to enter it unless he allowed it.
"You're not going in," he announced brusquely, bracing his hand against the door frame, his lips tight as he prepared to yank them away.
Jacob sighed.
"Why does everything have to be so complicated with you, Omega?" He asked, rather rhetorically, without backing down. "We have our orders and we're going to follow them whether you like it or not."
"You don't have to come in to guard me."
"But we're not leaving either," Jacob didn't back down.
Dean bared his teeth slightly, but stopped himself before he could snarl. It was Jacob and Vadim, guys he already knew a little and got along with. Maybe he would understand that he had to get out of here to save not only his dad, but their Alpha as well.
"Look..." he began patiently, no more growling or anger, just as much of the soothing Omega tone as he could force into his voice. "My dad... " he paused, realizing that he could easily imply that Cas had made the wrong decision and that wouldn't be good, that wouldn't be good at all. "My dad isn't what Castiel thinks he is. He's been given bad information about him. And if he tries to kill him...and we all know he will...it could cost a lot of people their lives."
"We can take care of one Alpha," Vadim said with conviction.
"Not one like my dad," he argued, for unlike Bet, he had an idea of what their family Alpha was capable of when he made his decision. "Yuri is only alive because Dad is hurt, but next time... next time he won't let him live, and he won't let anyone else who tries to get him live either. Trust me. We have to stop this madness before someone gets hurt."
Neither of the Betas seemed to believe him, in fact he could see a certain condescension on Vadim's face. Jacob, who usually had no functioning facial muscles, didn't seem to believe anything Dean said either. He pressed his lips tightly together. Damn idiots.
"Okay... okay then. How about this... Call Pyotr and tell him I want to talk to him. Maybe I can get him to talk to Castiel."
"He won't want to talk to you. He'll never question Batyusha's decision," Jacob replied.
"But...!"
"We won't go in if you don't want to, but you won't go out. We'll stay here and keep watch," Beta didn't let him protest and finally moved his hand away from the door, giving Dean the opportunity to close it.
He glanced from one to the other. They wore the impassive expressions they usually showed to everyone but Dean, which made it more than clear that he wasn't going to move them.
"Fuck you!" He snarled and slammed the door in their faces.
The panel on the side of the door beeped, the locks clicked into place, and everything around Dean sank into the silence of the empty apartment. He stared at the door, aware that he had only one other option. If he couldn't stop Castiel, he would have to stop dad. There was no other way.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed Sam's number and strode purposefully toward the bedroom.
Jacob and Vadim left him no choice but to fight his way through them, and his only hope was that they would be too afraid to hurt him to try to stop him if he came at them with a gun.
With the phone to his ear, he walked through the bedroom and into the closet, heading straight for the back wall where his own bag of guns lay on the floor next to the jewelry box that covered Castiel's gun cabinet. He didn't want his weapons locked away. He wanted and needed them within easy reach.
He put his ringing phone down on the jewelry box, picked up the bag, threw it on the seat in the middle of the locker room, and opened it. And as he filled the spare magazine - perhaps a few warning shots would be necessary to show he meant serious business - he kept his eye on the phone. It had been ringing for far too long. Maybe Sam couldn't answer it because their Alpha was with him.
Suddenly, the line went through, but no one answered.
Dean frowned, grabbed the phone and put it to his ear.
"Sam? Damn it, Sam, why haven't you picked up for so long? Where are you? With dad?" He blurted into the receiver but got no answer. "Sammmy?" He tried again, only this time he heard nothing but someone breathing on the other end. Heavier and harsher than Sam's, so it could only belong to... "Dad?" He asked cautiously, not getting an answer this time either. "Dad... if it's you, then you have to... please... listen to me, for once. Whatever you're going to do, don't do it. Let's get together and talk. We'll figure this out. I'll explain everything to you, just..."
He was cut off mid-sentence by a beep as Dad ended the call. Damn job! Damn stupid Alphas who couldn't listen! He'd rather have thrown the phone against the wall in anger, but what would he do without it? So he grabbed it in his hand and shoved it back into his jacket pocket, almost angrily. Then he grabbed his SIG, slid the magazine in, put the other one in his pocket, and headed for the door outside.
He assumed that Jacob and Vadim were at the door, as promised, which gave him a moment of surprise. They certainly wouldn't expect him to open the door with a gun pointed directly at their heads. But they probably wouldn't trust him to be willing to use that gun, so he'd have to prove it to them. A shot against the wall would hopefully do the trick. Then he'd take their keys and... well, he hadn't thought of anything beyond that, but at least he'd have a clear field of action. Then he'd think of something. Maybe he could find Sammy's phone, since he already knew that dad had it, or -
The phone buzzed in his pocket just as he was about to reach for the card and unlock the door. So he pulled it out instead of the card and looked at the unknown number flashing on the screen. It wasn't Sam's phone, so it wasn't their Alpha either, unless he decided to call him from a different number than the last time they'd texted and called.
With some small hope, he answered the call and put the phone to his ear.
"Dad?"
"No, it's me, Dean. Where are you?" Sam answered from the other side.
On the one hand, it was a relief to hear his brother's voice, because it meant that he could talk to his dad. Or at least he hoped so.
"In Cas's lair. Is dad with you? I want to talk to him."
"No. I left him," he replied a little strangely to the situation, the next sentences clarifying why he was talking so strangely. "I took an Uber and now I'm standing at the entrance of the club... Blue Sky."
"What?!" He blurted out. That changed the whole situation. As long as Sammy was here, he couldn't try to find his dad and do something to make sure he never met Castiel. Shit! Maybe leaving Sam here would be a good idea, but honestly... he wasn't sure what would happen if Little Alpha fell into the hands of Castiel's men while Dean was clearly going against their boss's orders. As Castiel had reminded him more than once, not everything was in his hands. There were rules in this world, and anyone who didn't respect them ended up badly. So, yes, Cas would never hurt Sam, but his Lieutenants would, and they might not even have a choice.
He tucked the gun into his belt, covered it with his jacket and said:
"Okay. I'll send Jacob for you. He'll bring you up."
"Okay," Sam replied curtly.
Dean ended the call and finished what he wanted to do before he had to answer the phone; he slid the card through the slot and opened the door.
He was glad that he hadn't made a mistake. The two Betas were indeed standing at the door, turning to face him as he opened it. He would have had just the right moment of surprise to get them under control before they could draw. A missed opportunity.
"Sam is downstairs outside the entrance. I need you to go get him," he said to Jacob.
The Castiel men exchanged glances for a moment, it almost looked like Jacob was going to refuse or say something to the effect that he had to let the boss in, which would really piss Dean off. Seriously! This was his lair, too, and he could invite whoever he wanted, especially his brother. Then, fortunately, the more muscular of the two Betas changed his mind and said: "I'll get him," and headed for the elevator.
It took an endless amount of time, so long that he had to reach back and pull it several times. Now that Vadim was here alone, he would have a much better chance of overpowering him. Hell, he wanted to get out of here and do something useful, and he wasn't getting much help from his nervously growling Omega, who was also eager for some action and torn between protecting his Alpha and his father and taking care of his puppy.
Finally, the elevator doors opened and Sammy, accompanied by Jacob, made his way down the hall.
Dean let out a long but subtle sigh.
It felt good to see Sammy again, and when a whiff of the familiar scent of olive oil and sandalwood reached his nose, he could do nothing but grab his little brother by the shoulder and pull him into a brief but tight embrace. And bury his nose in his throat for at least one long breath.
"Dee..." the Little Alpha growled softly, and by the way he clutched Dean's jacket, it was clear he was glad to see him, too.
"Come on in, pup," he urged, throwing a not-so-friendly glance at the two Betas before pulling Sammy into the apartment.
Closing the door behind him, he turned to him with a sigh when the Alpha beat him to it.
"We have to stop dad. He's about to do something really stupid."
"Yeah, we already know that. He wants to kidnap me..."
"No, he doesn't want that anymore. He's after..." Sam paused for a moment, hesitating, before continuing with a bold air. "He wants to find Castiel and kill him. He thinks if you lose your Alpha, you'll come back to him. I've tried to tell him that it won't work and that it will only hurt you, but you know him. Like always, he wouldn't listen to me."
I guess it would have been nice if he could have said he was surprised, but he wasn't. He had hordes of idiot Alphas around him, and that was actually a lot like both Dad and Cas. If only there was a way to bang their heads together and make them listen for a while.
"Find your phone," he ordered, running up the stairs.
"What do you want to do?" Sam called after him.
He looked over his shoulder. The Little Alpha was standing at the bottom of the stairs, hunched over, his whole body tense, and it looked like something was keeping him from running up. It took him a moment to realize that Sam didn't want to go deeper into Castiel's territory because he was an Alpha too and had instincts that told him not to invade another's lair. In a way, it was progress. A while ago, Sam would have been more than happy to invade not only Cas's territory, but probably his personal space as well, and maybe even to leave his mark somewhere. The reluctance meant he had more respect for Castiel than before. Only this wasn't the time for stupid Alpha instincts.
He ran back down, grabbed Sam's elbow, and pulled him halfway up.
"We're going to find dad and stop him from killing my Alpha, but first we have to get out of here," he explained as he dragged his brother through the main room to the door, finally stopping in front of it. Okay, taking Sammy all the way in there might not have been a good idea. Dean wouldn't have minded, but he didn't think Cas would be happy about it, so he left Sam outside.
"Find the phone. I'll be right back."
He didn't wait for an answer and ran through the bedroom and straight to the closet. There he grabbed the whole bag of weapons. If they ran out of here together and managed to stop his father, they might be able to save Cas' life, but they'd be breaking unwritten laws and there was a good chance they'd set at least one of the Brotherhood on each other. Then they'd need the guns.
He walked back, caught Sam tapping on his phone out of the corner of his eye, and headed straight for the couch. He threw the bag with the guns on the coffee table.
"I found it. It's not too far, but we're going to need a car."
"We'll get one down at the garage. Pick out a gun."
"Is that a good idea, Dean?" Sam asked, but he went over to the bag and started looking for his favorite gun. "I know it's just Vadim and Jacob, but... are you going to shoot your way through them?"
"I hope that won't be necessary. Hopefully they'll just surrender when they see us with guns."
"You want to count on that? On them liking you?"
" Damn it! I don't know, Sammy, okay? I don't know!" He threw up his hands in anger. "I don't know what to do now. I just know that I have to stop Cas and dad from killing each other. The best I can do is keep them from ever meeting."
"Too late for that," Sam pointed out, his eyes going somewhere over Dean's shoulder.
Dean turned sharply and froze in shock for a moment.
Castiel was standing above the stairs. His hand and forearm rested on the low wall above the stairs, bent but not in an attack position. He was hunched over as if to protect his stomach or chest, and though his face was not bloody, his lip and nose were swollen and red, making it clear that he had been beaten. And the smell that finally reached Dean was saturated with the scent of rotten pie and pain. It was as if the smell had punched him in the nose and also in the stomach. His inner Omega bristled with fear and rage because... his Alpha... his Alpha was hurt and all his instincts were raging, urging him not only to take care of Case but to kill anyone who hurt him and it was so... so damn confusing. He couldn't hurt his family's Alpha, but seeing his Alpha like this was unbearable.
Castiel exhaled sharply, sounding like he was releasing a long held breath, and took a step toward them. At that moment, his right leg buckled. Dean was at his side before he could stagger, one arm wrapped around his waist and hooked into his armpit. The Alpha leaned most of his considerable weight against him for a moment, which would have sent most other Omegas crashing to the ground, but Dean had enough strength to hold his Alpha up. What's more, he made Castiel lean even more by throwing his arm over his shoulder.
"Dean..." the Alpha breathed through clenched teeth, which he valued at the hint of a snarl. His breath reeked of blood, cigarettes, and pain, which also oozed from every inch of him, rising from his sweat-soaked shirt.
"Alpha... Cas..."
Alpha exhaled sharply again, then slowly lifted his gaze to meet Dean's and looked over his shoulder. Dean expected him to frown, or to sniff the usual moody scowl he had every time he faced Sam, but Castiel just relaxed his shoulders and turned his gaze back to Dean, his eyelids drooping with the weariness that showed in his blue eyes.
"I need to sit."
"Yeah...yeah...come on, but be careful," he said through a throat tight with fear as he took a cautious step toward the couch.
The Alpha leaned against it and let himself be led, step by step, to where he usually sat when they watched TV together. There, Dean slowly and carefully helped him to sit down. It was clear from Cas's every movement, and of course his scent, that he was in pain, but he didn't make a sound the whole time, except for a long, panting exhalation when he finally leaned back into the comfortable cushions. And he stayed there. He was sprawled out on the sofa, one arm draped over his stomach and the other tucked into one of the pillows. He was pale, his breathing shallow and rapid, and he looked so damn vulnerable that he was almost vulnerable. Seeing him like that made every omega string in his body tingle, which probably wasn't a bad thing this time, but in some weird, almost absurd way, it made him... not happy, damn it, no. He loved Case, and to see him in this state was terrible. But he felt compassion and joy at the trust his Alpha had given him by showing weakness in front of him and letting him take care of him. And that was what he needed to do now. Take care of his Alpha.
He pushed away all the useless fear, as well as the anger and desire to kill someone for what had happened to his Castiel, and focused on what was most important.
"I'll get the first aid kit. Help him get undressed," he ordered before turning and, of course, without waiting for confirmation, heading for the bathroom.
On the way, he took stock of what they had and what he would probably need. There wasn't much he could do about the broken face, and since the Alpha had a broken nose but not a dislocated one, he put the facial injuries aside. They weren't as important as the blood trickling down his arm and the way the Alpha was protecting his chest and breathing. That was what worried Dean the most. His shallow, gasping breathing suggested that his ribs might be broken, or at least cracked. That was more dangerous than it seemed at first glance. If a piece of bone was lodged in his lung, there was nothing he could do.
When he returned to the couch a moment later, he was pleased to find Castiel with only one shirt sleeve left, and Sam helping him with the other, covered in drying blood. The older Alpha carefully removed his hand from the cuff and Sam set the shirt aside, leaning close to the wound and examining it with a frown.
"How does it look?" He asked as he sat down on the couch and opened the first aid kit.
"It's not a big wound, but it looks like a gunshot and it's still bleeding. The bullet must have stayed inside," Sam informed him matter-of-factly, and Dean trusted his judgment, because unlike him, the little Alpha had actually gone through the piles of pictures of the various wounds his dad had sent them to look at. And he had done it carefully, while Dean... well, let's just say he regretted not being able to pay more attention.
"It's not a bullet. Shrapnel. I can feel it. You need to get it out," Cas turned to him in a tone that was definitely an order and one that made Dean's Omega tremble.
Even if he didn't want to do what the Alpha demanded, he had no choice at the moment.
"I don't have any anaesthetic here. Only numbing disinfectant. It'll be damn uncomfortable."
Castiel gave him a blank look that said it all, so he turned to Sam and handed him several packets of gauze. He didn't even have to tell him what he wanted. The little Alpha grabbed the disinfectant, sprayed it liberally on the still oozing wound, and began to wipe away the blood so Dean could see the wound better.
The wound wasn't really big, though he could stick his finger in it, and from the back to the front and at an angle, he guessed the bullet must have ricocheted or shattered against something Castiel ran past. Something hard enough, probably metal, that it took most of the energy out of the bullet, causing all or part of it to pierce just under the skin. He could literally see a bulge about two inches from the point of entry. That made things pretty simple.
"Keep the skin taut," Sam ordered as he pulled on his latex gloves.
The little Alpha obeyed without hesitation, leaving Dean no choice but to unpack the scalpel and then mainly prepare for the incision. The thought of it was stupidly unpleasant. Rationally, he knew it had to be done and that it would help Castiel, but his stupid Omega instincts were against doing harm to his Alpha.
Damn it, pull yourself together, Winchester! You've done this before, so stop acting like an Omega princess! He mentally admonished himself, took a deep breath and cut into his skin with determination.
Scalpel through the black skin, a stream of blood and the bottom layer of skin rolled out. He cut a second time, this time deep enough for the scalpel to hit something hard. More blood spurted out, making it practically impossible to see what he was doing, but he was half sure he'd cut deep enough this time. So he threw the scalpel on the table and reached into his briefcase for a large pair of tweezers. He carefully inserted them into the wound and tried to grab the bullet or whatever was trapped inside.
It slipped out.
"Fuck!" He growled through clenched teeth.
His nose filled with the iron smell of blood, Castiel's pain, and the two bitter and sickening scents of rage that mingled with the acid coming from Sam. The stench was everywhere and it certainly didn't help him concentrate, and he damn well needed to concentrate.
He inhaled through his mouth and brought the tweezers back to the wound, somewhat hesitantly. At that moment, before he could touch the exposed flesh, Castiel's hand landed on his thigh.
He looked up in surprise.
Though the Alpha's face was tense and the lines around his mouth and eyes were thin, his eyes were calm and his gaze was steady.
"Calm down, Dean," he said in a firm, commanding but warm voice.
And it was like some kind of damn magic. The power of his Alpha's voice filled his chest with a warm calm, his arm tightened, the tension in his back eased, and a sweet, soothing Omega scent teased his nose. It rose through the air, overpowering the smell of anger and pain, as well as some of the blood. It was suddenly easier to breathe, not just for him, but for Sam, who inhaled loudly. And also for Castiel, whose grip on Dean's knee, in which he had been clenching his fingers, loosened completely, and he closed his eyes with a gasp. The look on his face was so relaxed, it almost looked like he'd taken something for the pain.
Dean didn't know how long his pheromones would work on Castiel, so he decided to act quickly. He thrust the tweezers into the wound with confidence and force, grabbed the piece stuck in it, and with a gush of blood and the scraping of metal on metal, pulled the thing out. It was a copper-colored shard of deformed metal. A piece of bullet with a copper tip. Something dad would definitely use.
A palm with a square of gauze on it appeared in front of his face.
He looked up quickly and met Sam's gaze. The little Alpha had this strange expression on his face that Dean couldn't decipher, and since his own Omega scent was still mostly in the air, he couldn't make anything out either. Not that it mattered now.
He placed the metal shard in his ready palm, then tossed the tweezers onto the table next to the scalpel.
"Now I have to sew it up."
Castiel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and nodded.
He pulled a needle and silk suture from the first aid kit and frowned at the wound. He knew how to stitch a wound. Damn it, those hours of sitting over a pig's flank had taught him something, too. That wasn't the problem. He'd just never sewn anything this deep before. Maybe it needed a double stitch. One that would dissolve into the subcutaneous tissue and the other on top, but he had nothing but plain silk here. He'd have to patch the wound as best he could.
"I'll do what I can, but you'll probably have to get a new tattoo," he pointed out as he leaned over the wound and pushed the needle into the skin to make the first stitch.
It was nice to hear the Alpha's amused purr and smell the amused sweetness of baked cherries.
"Pick me some, moy sladkiy."
"You may regret that," he replied with a smile that carried through his voice and successfully hid some of the nervousness he felt.
The Alpha snorted again in amusement, and then there was a silence that lasted the entire time Castiel was being treated. Only occasionally was Dean interrupted by an order in Sam's direction, such as handing him a bandage for the wound on his arm. And then an elastic bandage for Alpha's chest. That was actually a little more difficult than stitching his wound, because he needed Sam to support him, and that made little Alpha uncomfortable. Probably some of that bullshit about Alpha's sensitivity to personal space invasions that he could just shove up his ass now. There was no time for that, and besides, Cas hadn't even hinted that he minded Sam's help.
Finally, they had successfully bandaged Castiel's reddened and obviously bruised chest. Dean helped him get more comfortable on the sofa, lining it with pillows, half in an effort to provide some comfortable support and half out of a compulsive need to create some sort of makeshift nest for him. He realized it was silly and noticed another strange look from his younger brother, but what the hell. His Alpha was injured, so he was entitled to a little Omega manners.
He then proceeded to dump all the bloody waste into the kitchen garbage can, promptly replacing the bag and making sure Sammy put his shirt in the bag as well, since he had blood on his sleeves. And of course he washed his hands properly. Then he got a glass of water and two Oxy tablets, just in case, because according to the label on the tube, they were Betas' medicine, weaker and less effective than the ones for Alphas. A double dose should be just right.
He returned to Alpha with the medicine.
"Here. Swallow it."
Castiel slowly opened his eyes and looked at Dean's outstretched hand and the glass.
"Water?" He grumbled unhappily, but at the same time reached for the proffered items. "I wish it was at least vodka," he added before tossing both pills in at once and emptying the glass in one long gulp. Then he leaned back into the couch, his eyes wandering to the bag still on the coffee table. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side.
"Guns?" He asked, of course, not if there were guns in the bag, he knew that only too well, but why it was on the table.
"We were planning to escape and prevent... this!" He made no secret of what he was about to do, waving his hand in a gesture that indicated Castiel's desperate state. "You and dad nearly killed each other."
"No. I didn't want to kill him. I tried to make a deal with him and he attacked me."
"That's because he wants to protect me. I tried to explain that to you."
The Alpha bared his teeth in a snarl. There was a little blood on them and his gums were red, making him look even more ferocious than when he'd just bared his teeth, but Dean didn't flinch.
"You're still defending him. Even after what he did to me."
"He's my dad!"
"And I'm your Alpha!" Castiel replied sharply, and his angry expression changed to his typical impassivity. "Or am I not?" He asked in a low voice, seemingly calm, which was even worse than the growl, which was just the accusation that Deana didn't consider him her Alpha tugging at his heartstrings.
"Of course you're my Alpha!" He declared insistently.
"Then..." the Alpha's voice trailed off and he slowly stood up, supported by his uninjured arm, "why are you still loyal to the man who murdered your mother?"
Dean blinked in confusion. The accusation was so absurd that his anger had actually left him. As much as their family Alpha had never hurt him or Sam, he would never do anything to his mother. He wanted to find her killer and protect Dean. Dad loved their Omega mom. She was everything to him. And that night... that night, he lost everything. Dean knew that too well.
An angry growl suddenly echoed behind him and the smell of tainted olive oil washed over him.
"What the hell is he talking about?!" Sammy growled.
Dean glanced back to see the little Alpha hunched over in a fighting stance, his mouth agape, his blood-red eyes fixed squarely on Castiel. Damn it! With Sam's short temper, there was a greater chance than ever that he would go for it. So he did what he always did when his little brother was arguing with not only his dad, but Cas as well; he stepped between them. He pressed one palm against Sammy's heaving chest and the other against his Alpha.
"Easy. Take it easy, puppy," he held back in a soothing tone that had only a partial effect, then turned to Castiel, "Dad didn't kill our mom. She was his Mate, and he would never hurt her."
"The police report says otherwise," Castiel replied, and though he still held his injured arm around his chest, he straightened to his full height and looked down at them. "They weren't living together a few weeks before her death, the neighbors reported a domestic dispute that day, and no one has any idea where John Winchester was that night. And after his Mate's death, he cashed out all his accounts, sold what he could far away, and fled the police and the debt of a foreclosed mortgage because the insurance company wouldn't pay a dime if your house burned down. That's not how an innocent, honest man behaves."
Dan pursed his lips. The truth was, he didn't know most of it. He didn't really remember if his dad was living with them at the time, just that his mom said she worked a lot and was sad. He didn't even remember the fight, except that he didn't have to be there for it because he was spending a lot of time with a friend... whose name he couldn't remember exactly. And that their Alpha was in debt and probably suspected of his mother's murder, he guessed from his drunken ramblings. But he knew it wasn't true. He knew it because...
He shook his head violently.
"It doesn't mean anything. A lot of people get into that kind of debt, and a lot of them run away from it. And the system... the system doesn't work right. You should know that. If it worked, you'd be behind bars by now."
Castiel snorted contemptuously.
"Face reality, Omega. Your Alpha father murdered your mother. That's a fact."
"No. He didn't!"
"I can show you the evidence..."
"I don't want to see any damn evidence!" He exploded, already enraged, no longer holding himself back, but snarling at Alpha. "I don't need it! I know it's all bullshit because I know who killed Mom! I saw him that night! I talked to him! He's the one who got us out of the burning house!"
He said out loud what he'd never said to anyone but his father. He literally shouted it, desperate and angry, and it took the words out of not only Castiel's mouth, but Sam's as well. Suddenly, the air, and with it the general atmosphere, was no longer filled with the stench of two angry Alphas, or even an angry Omega. There was something sour and rancid in the air. Disgusting. It was guilt. Dean's guilt.
"What...what do you mean?", Sam broke the silence with a confused question.
Dean exhaled slowly, closed his eyes, and put his hands on them. This was so fucked up. He didn't want to talk about what he remembered from that night ever again, but now he had to. He had no choice, not only because he'd already bitten the bullet, but also because maybe this was something that could disabuse Castiel of the notion that his father was a murderer. And it might even color the fact that the two stupid Alphas wanted to kill each other.
So he had to tell everything, not just what he remembered, but he had to talk about dad's hunt for mom's killer.
"The night it happened..." he began slowly, dropping his hands from his face and staring vaguely at the bookcase, unable to look Cas in the eye, let alone Sam. "A man came to my room. The Alpha. I knew him from kindergarten. He had come a few times and talked to me over the fence, so I wasn't afraid of him. And when he told me to go get my little brother, I just listened. I mean, he was an Alpha, and Alphas have to be obeyed. He took us outside, sat us down on the grass, and went back inside. Then he came back, said goodbye, and moments later the house caught fire. Then the firemen, the police, the paramedics were there and Dad arrived. That's what happened that night," he finished, looking down at the ground.
It was quiet. So damn long a silence, during which I'm sure Sam judged him for letting someone kill their mom and Castiel judged him again for his cowardice and inability to stand up to the Alpha.
"There's no mention of this in the police report," Alpha finally broke the silence.
Dean looked up at him sharply. His face was as blank as ever. Sure, he didn't believe a word of it, but that didn't matter. He knew that what he said was true.
"No one ever questioned me. I was a kid, and an Omega at that. No one ever listens to Omegas because no one cares what they have to say," he couldn't help the accusatory tone. "The only one who listened and believed me was our Alpha. He believed that I saw someone and decided to find the guy and kill him for killing our Omega mom and also... also to protect me."
"Protect?" Castiel repeated.
"Yes," he nodded in agreement. "The guy... he... said he would come back when I was older and that we would play games. I didn't understand it at the time, but with time I figured out what he meant. He wanted to come back to do to me what he had done to my mom."
He and my dad never talked about it, at least not in a real way. It always came up when their Alpha planned another trip and Dean tried to talk him out of it, maybe because Sammy had a school event or a really cool project. He just needed an extra day or two. Dad hadn't failed to mention that they had to move on because it was too dangerous to stay.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" Sam asked as Castiel remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere behind Dean's back, an impassive expression on his face. An expression that Dean was sure was not good, he just didn't know if it was good for him and his dad or the guy who murdered his mom.
He studied Alpha's face for a long moment, trying to read something in it, but since not a muscle in it moved and there was no telling what Castiel was thinking, he slowly turned to Sam. Looking into his eyes was no easier than trying to guess what was going through his Alpha's mind.
"What could I do?" He answered with a question. "How could I tell you that I know who killed our mother? That I talked to him that night and did nothing?"
Sam's eyes widened in surprise, but then his expression changed to a mixture of panic and urgency, and a wave of a scent he'd never smelled on his little brother wafted in Dean's direction. It was the reassuring scent of a confident Alpha that, despite Sam being a puppy, had a certain effect on Dean's Omega. It was the smell of home. The smell of safety. The smell of security. It didn't affect him as much as his father's scent or Castiel's scent, which he would rather curl up in, but it made him let out a long sigh and relax his shoulders. And his Omega purred in agreement.
"You were only four, Dean. You couldn't do anything."
He shook his head. Sam wasn't right about that. Sure, he couldn't fight the Alpha, he was too young for that, but at least he could do something.
"I shouldn't have listened to him. I should have rebelled and searched for my mom. Not just be a stupid, obedient Omega who does whatever the Alphas tell her to do. I could have gone for help or called the police."
"Dean... Dean, no!" Sam said urgently, coming closer. "What happened to mom is not your fault. Even if you went for help, they probably wouldn't believe you. You said it yourself... no one believes what the Omegas say. And that's bad, you know? It has to change."
"I believe," Castiel finally said.
Dean quickly turned to him.
"I believe you, dorogay," his Alpha repeated, his voice deep and soft and all seriousness, and walked over to take his face in his hands. "I trust you, as I always have," he repeated, to Dean's immense relief and joy, and the warmth in his eyes and in his voice... that beautiful warmth, which he was already sure was tenderness and belonged only to him, washed over him and made him feel wanted and loved. He leaned into Alpha's hand and let the scent of roasted cherries and honey wash over him.
"And I was wrong about your father," he admitted, which was partly surprising and made Dean look up at him. Their eyes met, and aside from the fact that the blue lagoons of Castiel's eyes were still warm, they reflected seriousness. That... that was one of the things he loved so much about his Alpha. Yes, sometimes he acted like a stunted, jealous Knot and an idiot, but other times he could do what no other Alpha could: admit a mistake.
"I'm willing to help him find your mother killer," he said, moving his hand from Dean's cheek to his shoulder.
"You'd do that?"
"Da," he nodded. "His goal is to kill this Alpha before he tries to kill you. He wants to protect you, and so do I. I'll give him our resources, I can give him as much money as he needs and any other support he needs. And I'm happy to do that because, as they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. For me, John Winchester has become an ally for the time being. The question is, will he see it that way?"
"If I can talk to him in person, I might be able to convince him."
"I won't let you go to him..."
"But...!"
Castiel held up a finger in a commanding gesture that silenced any protests from Dean.
"Not alone and without a plan,” the Alpha said something that sounded hopeful, a thoughtful furrow forming between his brows. "Can you get in touch with him?"
"He has my phone," Sam replied, the first time he had spoken directly to Castiel.
The older Alpha looked over Dean's head with a hint of surprise on his face, but quickly covered it up with a nod.
"Call him, tell him Sam's here with you and reassure him you're okay. And then tell him I want to talk to him."
He wasn't sure if Dad would be talked into a meeting so easily, but the fact was, it was a start. If that didn't work, they could try something else. Find him and talk to him directly.
He reached into his pocket for his phone and dialed Sam's number.
He turned on the speaker so that all three of them could talk to hdad, if he picked up at all. And even that was uncertain, because the phone rang again for a long time. It was an interminable few long rings before the line finally went through, but like the first time, there was no answer.
"Dad?" he said in a trial run without answering. So he looked at Case and then at himself, and with a sigh, he launched into an explanation, "I'm calling from Castiel's lair. Sam's here with me and we're both okay." He paused, his gaze indicating that the little Alpha should say something.
"He's telling the truth. We're both here and fine," Sam reported.
"Besides him, Castiel is here. He wants to talk to you. He has an offer for you..."
"I can guess what that offer is," the gruff, deep voice of their family Alpha finally came.
"I don't think so, Alpha Winchester," Castiel spoke up. "Here's what I propose... I'll allow Dean to meet you. You'll make sure he's okay and not under my influence, and he'll personally present the offer I have for you."
"Until I have my sons with me, I will not discuss anything. They must both come to me."
"That's not going to happen," Castiel replied without moving a muscle in his face; he was either absolutely sure of his position in this meeting, or at least he was excellent at faking it. Dean couldn't tell which, because as he already knew, Castiel was a really good liar when he wanted to be.
"I'm going to let Dean follow you because I trust him to want to come back. Samuel will stay here with me as... some sort of insurance that you won't try to kidnap my Mate again."
"I will not trade with my sons!" Dad growled.
"Trade?" Castiel repeated, his eyebrows raised. "This is not a trade. I have both your sons and you have nothing I want. Talking to you is a gesture of my goodwill. I'm doing this for Dean."
"I don't believe a word you say, Novak!"
"If you don't trust him, try trusting me," Sam echoed. "Alpha Novak has an offer for you that you'd be foolish to refuse."
"Your brother is not for sale."
"This isn't about money or me, it's about mom," Dean said urgently, probably not only cutting his father off in the middle of a future threat, but silencing him as well. "And her killer," he added, knowing their Alpha would be interested.
There was a moment of tense silence on the other line before his father's voice came back:
"Meet me at the diner across the street from the motel where we stayed and come alone."
"No. Dean will meet you on my terms or not at all," Castiel refused immediately.
There was a deep, dark growl on the other end of the line that made Dean's Omega bristle, even though his dad was far away and they were only talking on the phone. It had always had that effect on him, but now it seemed strangely weaker than ever. The shiver that ran down his spine wasn't a natural desire for Omega to bend over, it was just... something. As if his father's influence was weaker than ever. Certainly not as strong as Castiel's.
"What are the terms?" Dad asked, though for a moment Dean thought about hanging up the phone.
"You will meet at the Manhattan branch of the Alpha Royal Cafe, and Dean will be accompanied by two of my men."
"Alpha Royal Cafe? That's where dad and I will stick out like a sore thumb!" Dean pointed out.
The Alpha Royal Cafe was one of those upscale dine-in chains where the coffee was twice as expensive as Starbucks, they had a branch in every major city, and you never met anyone there who wasn't wearing an expensive suit or expensive sneakers. It was definitely not a place where he and Dad would fit in.
"That's why he wants us to meet at the store. He thinks I won't try anything with so many pairs of eyes around," Dad replied to his complaint.
That made sense. It was one thing to kidnap someone from a mall parking lot where almost no one was around. Trying to drag him out of a restaurant, especially when everyone noticed you because you obviously weren't a regular customer... that wasn't so easy.
"Yes, that's my plan. Do you agree to the terms?"
"Okay. I'll be there in an hour. I'll wait fifteen minutes. If Dean isn't there by then, I'm going straight to your lair to get him and Sam, do you understand, Novak?"
"Absolutely," Castiel replied calmly.
That was all. Dad said nothing more before ending the call, and the short beep that announced it hung in the air for a while.
"Jacob and Vadim will accompany you," Alpha finally broke the silence, walking over to the bag on the table and bending down to reach into it. As he leaned forward, he wobbled and had to brace his hand on the table. He inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, making an unpleasant wheezing sound that made Dean uneasy. Within moments, he was at his side, one arm around his shoulders and the other gently wrapped around the underside of his chest to help him straighten up.
"Sit down," he said, softly enough that it wasn't quite an order, but at the same time not allowing for any discussion.
Surprisingly, Cas didn't even struggle and let himself sit back down on the couch. Leaning back into the nest of cushions, he glanced up at Dean briefly, but immediately turned his eyes back to the bag.
"I want you to take the gun."
"I don't need it," he objected automatically. He wanted to meet his dad. He didn't need a gun.
"Don't argue anymore!" Cas growled irritably.
"Fine. Fine. I already have the gun. Check it out." He reached behind him and pulled out his SIG.
Alpha was obviously reassured.
"If you can convince your father that I'm willing to help him, I want you to bring him here," Castiel surprised him. After all, this was his lair, and bringing another Alpha here, an Alpha who had just tried to kill him an hour ago, was a damn helpful gesture. Dean was expecting him to take him to Blue Sky.
"Are you sure you want me to bring him here? I mean, he's my dad, but I understand if you don't want him here. We can talk at Blue Sky."
"No," Cas dismissed with a shake of his head. "It's a family thing, so it should be discussed in the family circle."
"Family?" Cas repeated, even more surprised, but at the same time he felt something warm blossom in his chest and his Omega purred contentedly. Cas considered the death of his mother a personal matter.
"Da. Of course," the Alpha replied a little impatiently, but then he let out a breath, his tone softening as he took Dean's hand in his and spoke again. "I don't know how it is here in America, but in Russia the rule is that a man or an Alpha marries not only his wife or Omega, but her or his family as well. So your family is my family in a way. So your mother's death is my problem too," he said, kissing the back of his hand lightly before letting go and nodding toward the front door. "Now bring Jacob here."
Dean didn't say anything, just went to get the Alpha man and brought Jacob in. Beta didn't look too thrilled at the sight of his bandaged boss, but he didn't say anything or ask any questions, just listened to the instructions and confirmed that he understood them. And then he walked Dean to the door, only to stand in the hallway to give him a chance to say goodbye to Sam.
"I want you to keep an eye on him, okay?" He said to his brother once he was in the doorway.
"Yeah, I'll do that," the little Alpha nodded with a seriousness that reassured him that he would indeed do that, and besides, he smelled surprisingly calm for someone who had been irritated whenever Castiel was around. "Will you bring Dad?"
"I hope so." With that, he patted Sam on the shoulder and walked out into the hallway to meet Alpha's men.
Damn he hoped he could convince his dad to work with Cas. But he knew it wouldn't be easy.
Chapter Text
The door closed behind Dean and Sam found himself alone in the lair of a stranger. His Alpha was suspicious, but surprisingly not angry. He could rationalize that it was Novak's powerful pheromones that permeated everything around him. It was the scent of a mature, strong, dominant Alpha, and although it irritated his Alpha's instincts, it also held him back. Dean's Alpha still bothered him in a way, 'stealing' his Omega, and he couldn't shake the desire to compete with him, but at the same time, now that he was in his lair, he just had to respect him. Because he felt that Novak was the master here.
And there was also Dean's scent... especially the way it mixed with the older Alpha's scent. It wasn't as intense and soaked into everything, but it was happy and contented. Dean was happy here. Dean... Dean even nested here. The few pillows he had surrounded Novak with might not have been a real nest, but it was closer than anything Dean had done... well, Sam couldn't really remember the last time Dean had made a nest, but he had a vague memory of making it and of them lying in it together. He must have been too young then to remember it well.
An unpleasant feeling ran down his back.
Someone was watching him.
He turned quickly, a warning growl on his lips, and immediately saw Novak standing at the top of the short staircase. As much as he wanted to growl again, to let the other Alpha know that he didn't like being watched, he forced himself to swallow the growl. He had to control his Alpha and try to get along with Novak.
The older Alpha measured him with a cold, if not hostile, stare. There was no expression on his face, it was as blank as a mannequin's face, and his arms hung loosely along his body. It wasn't the first time Sam had noticed that Novak was... well, he was a little strange. Not in the sense that he was a bit of a psychopath, but more in the sense that he tilted his head weirdly to the side and sometimes seemed to stare through you.
Novak interrupted his musings with a loud intake of breath, narrowed his eyes a bit, and then simply turned and disappeared into the main room.
Slowly, cautiously, Sam climbed the stairs and stopped at the top, where he watched the older Alpha reach the kitchen and open the fridge. He didn't linger too long before walking over to the table, slowly sitting down and placing the bottle of beer in front of him.
"Are you thirsty or hungry, pup?" He broke the silence with a scratchy voice with a Russian accent that gave even English words a kind of roughness.
Sam frowned slightly. He was quite thirsty and quite hungry, but he was reluctant to accept the unspoken offer, so he stood still and continued to watch Novak warily.
With a deft motion, the other Alpha popped the old metal cap of the beer bottle against the edge of the table and took a deep drink before turning his impassive face and cold eyes to Sam, measuring him from head to toe.
"You needn't be afraid of me. I don't bite," he said, sounding quite provocative.
He couldn't help but growl and raised his chin defiantly in a Alpha's pose that came naturally. Very natural.
"I'm not afraid," he snapped, stepping forward. "Have I ever acted like I was afraid of you?" He continued confidently, reached over to the table, fumbled with his belt and pulled out a Glock. "Besides, I have this," he added, and after a short hesitation he put the gun on the table, "but I guess I won't be needing it."
The older Alpha just gave an approving grunt as he took another sip, the sweet smell of burnt cherries and honey wafting off him. Sam wrinkled his nose. The smell was irritating, but since there was no aggression in it, it didn't cause him to react in any way.
"There's milk, orange juice and some beer in the fridge. Take what you want."
The offer to serve oneself was made clearly and understandably. That was good. He didn't have to rely solely on his assessment of the situation, and it cleared the atmosphere between them. So he decided to accept Novak's invitation and went to check the fridge.
The bottles and cans of beer looked tempting, but Sam finally reached for a bottle of plain cherry Coke and then looked around for glasses. All the while, he was aware of the other Alpha's presence, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but when he looked over his shoulder, Novak was sitting with his back to him, smoking quietly. Seemingly unprotected against attack, but Sam couldn't help it, something told him that despite his injuries, it wouldn't be that easy to take the older Alpha down. The last time he'd tried it, it had gone really badly, and today would probably be no better. Besides, it wouldn't do Dean any good. So he pulled out his glass and returned to the table with it and the bottle of coke.
He sat down in front of Novak.
The other Alpha looked at him over the heated tip of his cigarette. He took a deep drag and then slowly released a large cloud of smoke.
It was silent.
Sam opened the bottle and poured himself a full glass.
The silence continued.
Sam took several small sips, never taking his eyes off the older Alpha, and Novak took another sip of his beer for a change.
"Not hungry?" Novak broke the silence.
"I'm fine..." he replied neutrally.
The older Alpha lifted his head slightly, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath of air. He sniffed Sam's scent, and from the way he narrowed his eyes, it was clear that he was evaluating it.
"In the cabinet over there," Novak gestured with his hand, cigarette behind him, toward the kitchen, "there's candy and some snacks. You can have whatever you want."
Sam frowned. What was Novak trying to do? Was he trying to be nice? It almost seemed that way, but it didn't really fit with who he was and how he'd acted before. In fact, his offers were almost too... awkward.
The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.
"You don't have much experience with children, do you?" he asked at the risk of the other Alpha taking it as a provocation.
Strangely enough, he didn't. Novak just tapped the ashes into the ashtray on the table and gave a slight shrug of the uninjured hand holding the cigarette.
"No. I don't meet many in my work," he admitted without a tremor in his voice or a hint of discomfort in his scent.
"And you don't even have any?"
Novak raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile and amusement appearing in his eyes.
"No. Of course not. Who do you think I should have them with, puppy?" He asked with condescending amusement. "I have no interest in women or Omega men. Their smell repels me because it's too sweet. Sticky. Dean is the only exception. His smell is perfect because he's my Tru Mate God's gift."
Such candor was strange when Sam remembered how badly they'd gotten along on all the occasions they'd met, but the determination he heard in Novak's voice... the sheer certainty... it sounded like he really believed it. The question was if Sam could trust Novak.
"You really believe that? About the True Mate and the Gift..."
" Da. Of course I do. You don't joke or lie about things like that," Novak said with a strong conviction that heightened his accent and added a depth and tone to his voice that made Sam's Alpha bristle at the hint of defense.
At the same time, the older Alpha touched his fingers to the massive, golden cross that hung from my bare, ink-stained chest, touching the rich tangle of black ink that represented the large cross that took up most of Novak's chest.
Sam focused on the cross.
It wasn't a new tattoo, but Novak had taken care of it. Some parts were darker than others, so he had to have them repainted when they started to fade. The cross was definitely much older than the stars on his collarbones and even Lieutenant Bratva's epaulets.
It might have been one of his first tattoos. As far as Sam knew, crosses were supposed to protect and bring good luck to their wearers, and besides, those members of the Russian mafia who were truly religious usually had them tattooed. It was strange, but God had a lot of power, even for criminals.
"I guess it's my turn," the older Alpha interrupted his thoughts; Sam looked up at him with a puzzled frown. "My turn to ask questions. Or are we not playing Twenty Questions?" He asked amusedly, and before Sam could remind him that 'twenty questions' wasn't how it was played, he continued, "You seem to have changed your mind about me. Why?"
"You gave Dean a pass," he replied simply; Castiel raised his eyebrows slightly in a subtle question and choked on his burning cigarette. Sam then decided to continue, "You had Alpha custody of him. You could have done anything to him and Dean would have put up with it because he's the law and even though he steals and does stuff like that sometimes... he takes the law pretty seriously, you know?"
"Really?" He asked, not with skepticism, but more with curiosity.
"Yes. He takes the laws seriously because the laws are the boundaries of morality, and Dean is one of the most honest people I know. Even when he stole, he only took what we really needed and only from those who couldn't afford it. And in the end, he sees the good in everyone. Underneath all that macho, prickly exterior, he's a really good person. Better than we'll ever be.
"Yes. Yes, that's true," Novak agreed after a long, thoughtful pause.
Again there was silence between them, as they looked into each other's eyes. It was a battle of wills, but there was no aggression. Neither was there any attempt to win while refusing to be defeated. It was a kind of unspoken truce.
"Why did you change your mind?" he asked, to which the other Alpha replied with a questioning tilt of his head to the side, as if he were a large bird.
"I'm pretty sure you never wanted to bring me here because you don't like me, but you changed your mind yesterday."
"That's not true," he replied, which half confused Sam, but also pissed him off; was Novak lying right in front of Dean? "Not that I have any particular dislike for you. But I don't like you either. I honestly don't care much about you or your fate. But Dean wants you in his life, and what my Mate wants, he gets."
His upper lip twitched with the urge to growl. Something about the way Novak talked about him made him angry. He wasn't some insignificant boy that Novak had to suffer because Dean wanted him to. He was a goddamn Alpha! He was important because... He paused here and honestly felt a pang of shame. He thought he was important just because he was an Alpha. He didn't know where these thoughts came from, but he had them in his head more and more often, and it was so hard to face them.
He pursed his lips and looked away, stopping their fight.
"Look at me, puppy," Novak growled.
Sam turned and looked into his eyes. He had no idea why he'd done it, why he'd obeyed the order, and he was really surprised that it had happened.
"If your father survives tonight, and I can't guarantee that, then you'll have the choice of going with him or staying with Dean and therefore with me," the older Alpha said quite bluntly, making no secret of the fact that his dad might not survive, and he wasn't afraid of the consequences of saying such a thing. "If you stay here, I'll take care of you. You're Dean's family and so you're my family. But don't expect more from me than food, a roof over your head, and a good school. I'm not your Alpha father and I won't play one. Khorosha? Okay?"
"'Kay," he said with a slight nod.
And that was the last word to the room.
°°0°°
The smell of coffee, as pleasant and expensive as the coffee he had brewed in their lair, mixed mainly with a wide range of Alpha smells of varying intensity. There were probably quite a few Betas and probably a few Omegas as well, but the Alpha smells definitely dominated. And as he slowly walked across the dark green carpet between the tables and looked around, he could definitely see typical Alpha postures and expressions everywhere.
He tore his attention away from the people themselves, they didn't look dangerous, and looked around the interior. It was all dark wood and black glass and... was there really a huge crystal chandelier on the ceiling? It was ridiculous, considering they served coffee in paper cups. Yeah, it was expensive coffee, but it was still in a paper cup.
His nose finally caught the familiar scent of birch and wild rose, and a moment later his eyes caught Dad's face.
Alpha managed to find a place for four, a little out of the way, but not really hidden. There were no hidden places here, because hidden places were not lucrative. Still, the table he'd chosen wasn't in direct view of the wait staff and couldn't be seen from outside.
"Sit here," he ordered his Beta escort.
"We're supposed to keep an eye on you," Vadim objected.
He flicked an eye at him.
"You can see us from here, and we'd have to pass you to get to the exit. You can watch me and give us some privacy."
"We'll sit here," Jacob assured him before nodding in satisfaction and following dad.
He walked slowly. He gave himself time to assess what kind of mood Dad was in. He sat upright, his face like a carved stone, covered in slowly turning purple bruises except for a few days of stubble. He'd also gotten his scars from the fight with Dean's Alpha, which made his Omega look split. On the one hand, he hated to see his family's Alpha hurt; he was his dad, after all, and the leader of their little pack for a long time. But there was also a sense of pride and something... he couldn't put his finger on it, but he liked that Castiel had fought for him with dad. In a strange way, that was more important than him killing for him.
Besides the colorful bruises, his dad also had overgrown hair, his clothes were obviously dirty with dust and paint, but judging by the smudges, he'd tried to clean them at the last minute. Probably to fit in at the coffee shop. He had one hand, the one that was clearly visible from the bar, resting on the table and the other seemingly resting on his feet or the seat. In fact, to Dean's trained eye, it was clear that he had it tucked under his jacket, clutching his gun, ready to draw at a moment's notice. And when Den approached at a distance where his scent was easy to read, he lifted his head and his nostrils flared as his sharp gaze literally scanned Dean.
Part of it was instinct, but there was a lot of intent as well, as Dean carefully lowered his head and gaze, relaxing his shoulders to show dad his submission, while indicating that he was coming in peace by holding his hands palms up.
"Dad," he said in a low, soothing voice, letting his Omega guide him.
"Dean..." the Alpha replied distantly, his lips quivering and his nostrils flaring. He sniffed deeply and intensely, and Dean knew exactly what he was smelling. Pain, probably the smell of mating, and maybe, though he hated to think about it, the smell of sex. He wasn't wearing any of those things, just like he wasn't wearing the blockers to show his dad that he was totally cool.
"I'm good, Alpha. I'm good and... look. No bite," he rolled one shoulder discreetly, and when he went to show the other, he paused a bit. It had Castiel's mark on it. A never-quite-healed bruise that his Alpha had regularly renewed, allowing him to renew his own at the same time. There was no rest. He had to show it.
"Just this." He showed the other shoulder as well.
Dad grunted immediately, but didn't move. In a way, he couldn't, because they were in public and it wouldn't help to make a scene.
"He marked you!"
He barked between his teeth, and by the way the shoulder of his hidden hand moved, it was clear he was gripping the gun tighter.
"Yes, because I wanted to. If you don't believe me," he took a step closer, "smell me and you'll know I'm telling the truth."
Even if he could lie to dad, it wasn't as easy as it was with a strange Alpha. Dad had a better sense of smell when it came to lying. Probably not as good as Cas, but good enough to trust his nose. They both knew that. Which was why Dean didn't move when his family's Alpha leaned forward and stuck his nose between the sides of his unbuttoned jacket.
He inhaled once. A second time. And after the third deep breath, he exhaled sharply, wincing and looking up at Dean. They locked eyes for a moment, but then Dean lowered his gaze, even though his dad hadn't asked him to.
The fuse clicked, the leather jacket hissed, and the chair creaked as Dad pushed away from the table, and a moment later he had pulled Dean into his bear hug.
Dean hugged him back, breathing in the scent of home and security that their family Alpha always brought with him. It was different than with Cas, but certainly not much weaker.
Dad pulled away partially, but continued to hold his shoulders, casting a dark look over his shoulder. He didn't even have to turn around to know that he was looking at Jacob and Vadim, who were sitting nearby.
"I see he's keeping a good eye on you," Dad growled darkly, the smell of rotting rose petals wafting through the air.
"They're here to protect me from anything and anyone should the need arise," he replied truthfully, though it wasn't the whole truth. It was foolish to think that Cas wouldn't have sent his men to find him, even if he had decided to leave of his own free will and hadn't been kidnapped.
"Nonsense!" Alpha showed his fangs under a slightly raised upper lip.
"Let's sit down and talk," he suggested in lieu of a larger reaction to dad's words, breaking free of his grip and approaching the seat across from dad's chair.
He waited until the Alpha was done angrily sizing up Castiel's men before he slowly sat down, then sat down as well. The upholstered chair was quite comfortable, and there was a QR code with a menu on the corner of the table, as well as a leather-bound paper menu that dad had next to his hand. This was for the less tech-savvy.
"Do they have pancakes here?" He asked rhetorically, pulling out his cell phone and pulling up the code. "I'd like some pancakes..."
"Forget the pancakes! We need to find a way to get Sam back!" The Alpha ordered sternly, and although he didn't raise his voice or sound hostile or angry, there was a great authority in his voice that made Dean Omega squirm a little, but... Dad wasn't his Alpha anymore. He was an Alpha, he still had authority, and more authority than the other Alphas -- except for Bobby -- but Castiel's authority was more important to Dean Omega. What Castiel wanted was more important. Yes, he could rebel. Hell, he wasn't under Cas' influence or any of that bullshit, but when he thought about it, an alliance was simply the best option. That way, they could finally find and kill his mother's killer, and who knew... maybe it would help the two stuck-up old Alphas get... well, maybe not closer, but maybe then they wouldn't be so eager to kill each other.
"There's no reason to. Cas won't hurt him, just like he didn't hurt me. Or do you think there's something wrong with me? That I'm truly under Castiel's Alpha influence?"
Dad's strong jaw went slack as he clenched his teeth and the vein in his neck tightened. He gave Dean a disapproving look, but said nothing. He couldn't, because he could see that Dean wasn't crushed under the will of an Alpha and wouldn't try to tell himself or others otherwise. Dad wouldn't do that. He was too honest and principled.
"You've changed. You've grown, and I don't just mean you're a few inches taller," the Alpha finally broke the silence.
Dean shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"That's a good possibility. A lot happened while you were gone, and it certainly wasn't all good. But Castiel helped me, you know, dad? He's my Tru Mate. And yeah, I didn't believe it before, but I do now. We belong together."
"He's older than you, and he's a criminal."
"And you're not a criminal?" He asked in return.
A sharp whiff of sour and bitter combined to pinch his nose.
"Don't compare me to him, puppy!" He admonished him sternly enough to make Dean lower his eyes in submission this time. "I'm nothing like him. Whatever I've done in my life, I've done it for your mother. And for you."
"I know that, okay?" he assured his father seriously. He knew why he did what he did. "I know why you're doing all this, but... how about we just finish it? Get justice for Mom and... and... I don't know... go see uncle Bobby and help him with his junkyard like he's been offering to do for years. Or do something else," as he spoke, he watched Alpha's face and scent carefully, and found, somewhat surprisingly, that his father didn't actually look disapproving, so he continued bravely, "Castiel is offering to help you. He has contacts, resources, money..."
"How is he going to help me?" Dad asked, surprisingly not dismissive.
"I don't know... I mean, I don't know exactly," he quickly corrected himself when he saw Alpha's lips tighten. "It depends on what you know about mom's killer and what you might need help with. My Alpha is inclined to negotiate and offer help of any kind. He even invites you to his lair to talk. That's a hell of an offer, isn't it?"
The Alpha didn't answer, but looked out the window, then at Castiel's men sitting nearby. Finally, he turned back to Dean and nodded.
"Good. I'll see what Novak has to offer."
Dean blinked in surprise. This was much easier than he'd thought. Too easy, in fact, and so, willy-nilly, he began to suspect that his father was up to something. A plan of some kind that was definitely not a deal with Castiel. It wasn't nice to think of his father that way, but Dean wasn't stupid and he knew who his father was.
"Okay. Good," he nodded calmly, despite his suspicions. "Castiel's men brought me here in a Toyota, it's that ugly shade of green. You can't miss it. Will you follow us, what do you say?"
"Sounds like a good plan."
Dean nodded. Then they both got up and headed for the exit, following Castiel's Betas as best they could.
Chapter 91
Notes:
Sorry for the long break, but I was sick for a long time and only in the last few days I managed to regain my strength and finish this chapter. Enjoy the chapter! And thanks to all of you who have been faithfully waiting for this chapter 🙂 .
Chapter Text
He hadn't seen his baby in a long time, and when dad parked her not far from the Toyota he'd gotten out of earlier, he longed to pet her and see if she was okay. After all, the Impala was the closest thing he had to a home. In fact, she was his home. Unfortunately, there wasn't time, so he just took a long look at her before turning his attention to his dad.
Alpha walked over to him, eyed Jacob and Vadim warily, and finally looked at Dean challengingly. He said nothing in response to his father's unspoken request, just nodded in the direction of the elevator. Together they walked towards it. The Betas were their escorts, of course, and when they entered the elevator together, they stood at Dean's side to separate him from his dad a bit. He gave both Betas a cold look, but said nothing.
They were silent all the way, not only through the elevator, but down the white hallway to the door of Castiel's apartment. At that moment, he wanted to tell Alpha's men to stay outside, but they had already retreated to the opposite wall, making it clear that they had no intention of entering. Probably Castiel's orders.
He slid the card through the slot and punched in the code, both under father's watchful eye and the strange look of surprise on his face. Did he think Castiel would lock him in the house?
"This place has good security. You can't get in or out without a card and a code, and only my Alpha and I have both," he pointed out, emphasizing that he was now one of only two people who could get into the apartment, before finally pushing the door open.
The door opened and Sam was already waiting for them. He exchanged a quick glance with Little Alpha, only to be reassured by Sam's slight nod and relatively calm scent that all was well, and stepped back to let his dad in.
The Alpha entered the apartment even more cautiously than Sam had before. He took small, deliberate steps, his nose flaring as he inhaled deeply the air filled with a mixture of Castiel's and Dean's scents, his eyes scanning the area. Dean could easily guess that his dad was doing what he'd been taught all his life; looking for escape routes, weapons, cataloging the terrain.
Dad's eyes locked on something behind Dean's back, and suddenly his gaze and face darkened, along with a grin and a growl, and the sharp, bitter smell of anger filled the area.
"I didn't expect anything less. Cowards always need the home field advantage," Dad said contemptuously.
Behind Dean's back was a familiar, gruff growl. He didn't even have to turn around to know exactly what was behind him, and indeed, his damn Alpha was standing at the top of the stairs, already wearing a shirt and, not surprisingly, holding a gun on Dad. It didn't really scare Dean, even though it was pointed over his head, right at his dad. He was pretty sure that if Cas wanted to kill Dad, he would be dead by now, and he was equally sure that if Dad wanted to kill Castiel, he would have already drawn and fired.
He was pretty angry, because this was just another game between two overpowered Alpha egos. Wouldn't it be a hundred times easier for everyone if they just stopped?
"Inviting you here was a gesture of reconciliation, but I'm not stupid. I'm not going to let you walk around here armed," Castiel replied before looking down at Dean. "Take away all his weapons."
Dean didn't protest or try to talk Castiel out of it.
"Sorry, Dad, but I understand why he wants me to do this," he apologized to his father as he reached under his jacket where he pulled out his first gun.
He knew for a fact that the next one was on his right ankle, so he went straight to it, pulled it out, and placed it in the low shoe cabinet by the door. He continued to focus on his father's left arm, where he suspected he had a knife, and he did, in a sheath strapped to the inside of his forearm. He pulled it out and put it away as well. Those were all the weapons he was sure Dad was carrying. But it was safe to assume that he had more, so he made a slight motion with his hands to indicate that his father should unholster. The Alpha didn't say anything, just did as he was asked and let himself be searched. He didn't find any more weapons on him, except for another knife on the back of his spine, so he stepped back and turned to Castiel, who had been watching them the whole time, gun still pointed.
"This is all. You can put the gun down now, Alpha," he said in as mild a tone as he could manage despite his irritation.
After all, it wasn't wise to unnecessarily upset an Alpha like Castiel when he was injured and holding a gun.
Without blinking or hesitating, his Alpha lowered the gun immediately after his reassurance.
"Have him take off his boots," he said before turning and disappearing around the corner.
That was all.
Dean actually had the urge to laugh, despite his irritation and the whole tense situation, and it intensified when he looked at his dad, who looked and smelled surprised, maybe even startled. And it wasn't easy to catch his dad off guard. But Cas had done it because... well, because he was Cas.
Of course, his dad quickly shook off his surprise and walked towards the stairs. Dean blocked his way. At this point, the Omega instincts in him kicked in, telling him loud and clear that this was their lair. A potential place for him to nest and produce some puppies. It had its own rules, set not only by his Alpha, but by Dean himself, and one of those rules was a ban on shoes. And it applied to everyone, including visitors.
"You have to take off your shoes."
Dad gave him an incredulous look.
"You're not serious, are you?"
Dean stood firm.
"I'm not taking off my shoes!” Dad growled, to his credit he did it half loud. "He's just trying to stall us. Didn't I teach you anything?"
"He doesn't want to delay anyone's escape. He just doesn't want dirt and dog poop in the house. I mean, he's got a lot of expensive carpets and crap like that. So please take your shoes off or... well, we have plastic covers if you want," he suggested, and yeah, he couldn't resist the urge to say it with an amused and slightly embarrassed smile.
"I had to take my shoes off too," the previously silent Sam chimed in, pulling up his loose jeans to reveal his blue socks.
Dad must have been very concerned about what Castiel was going to suggest, or had a plan he didn't want thwarted by something as silly as shoes, because without further protest, he kicked off his already somewhat shabby Canadians, now covered in additional paint splatters.
"Thanks," Dean thanked him and bent down to his own shoes. He quickly kicked them off and then, as before, went first, followed by the older Alpha with Sam behind him.
Castiel was by the couch, his right hand holding the gun loosely on the floor, not even a finger on the trigger, and the palm of his other hand resting seemingly casually on the back of the couch. Dean could tell, though, that he was leaning on it to keep his balance. The painkillers seemed to have worn off, and broken ribs, as they were known to do, hurt like hell when you tried to stand up straight, or sit or lie down at all. Dad was hurt too, but Cas had taken a lot more than that and Dean hoped he would find out exactly what had happened to him soon. They hadn't had time to talk about it yet.
"Have a seat, Alpha Winchester," Castiel said with a courtesy and calmness reflected in his scent that surprised his father once again, motioning with his empty hand to one of the chairs.
Dad stood motionless for a moment, staring into Cas' eyes and tasting the air, trying to determine if there was a trap behind his words. Then he probably realized there wasn't one, and slowly made his way to the chair, keeping his eyes on Castiel all the while, and Castiel returned his gaze.
Finally, dad slowly sat down in the chair and Castiel followed just as slowly and deliberately. All the while, they both kept their chins up and their chests puffed out in a ridiculous Alpha pose. And they sat motionless, staring at each other. The air around the couch and chairs was literally thick with Alpha pheromones. A mixture of Castiel's bitter almond scent asserted itself over the roasted cherries, but he wasn't angry. The bitter scent of rotting rose petals. And somewhere in the background, the taste of olive oil.
It clogged Dean's nose. He half feared and half hoped his body would react the way it had when he'd nursed Case. It was always uncomfortable because he couldn't control it, but it might calm the atmosphere. Either way, there was a need to establish some... comfort. He felt it instinctively, and for once he let his instincts guide him.
"How about a beer and some food?" He suggested cheerfully.
The Alphas were silent.
"I could do with something," Sam chimed in from behind him.
He looked back at him and saw that even though the little Alpha hadn't ventured closer, keeping a safe distance from the older Alphas, he certainly looked and sounded supportive. He gave him a grateful smile.
"I'll get something," he said into the lingering silence and battle of wills, and walked over to the kitchen.
Sammy followed him, actually beat him to it, and helpfully started to get beers out of the fridge, which gave Dean a chance to quickly pull out a bowl - Cas only had glass bowls instead of the handy plastic ones - and grab a bag of snacks at random. What could we say, all Alphas were friendlier when they weren't hungry, and considering that not only Cas but also Dad tended to skip meals, it was quite likely that none of them had eaten anything substantial today.
He took two of the three beers from Sam and brought them to the table with the bowl. He placed one bottle in front of his Alpha and one in front of his dad, and when the little Alpha came to his side, he took the third from him and sat down with it in the third remaining chair. While his instincts pulled him toward Castiel, to show the other Alpha in the room, his former pack leader, that he was no longer a member of his pack, he knew rationally that it wasn't a good idea. Alphas were sensitive about their Omegas and didn't take well to being taken away. It made them act like idiots, and considering what had happened and that Sammy was going to fight Cas for him as well... well, it wasn't so presumptuous to assume that showing that he wasn't on anyone's side would at least calm those two idiots down a bit.
Along with the air filled with the strong, musky scent of Alpha pheromones, he inhaled the still very tense atmosphere, and as he slowly moved his gaze from one unmoving face to the other, he half realized that Sammy had followed behind him. That was reassuring for his Omega. If anything went wrong, her pup would be safe, and he was really glad that Sam was keeping his Alpha's stupidity to himself for now.
He unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a sip. The bitter taste of the beer was pleasant and even a bit soothing. He put the bottle down and took one last look at Cas and then at his father's still face.
Yes, it looks like it's up to you, Winchester, to start the conversation. After all, you're an Omega, this well... born diplomat and all that shit.
"Okay..." he finally broke the silence, but got no answer from any of the Alphas. "I guess we should start, well... talking. How about that?" he suggested, but this time he didn't get an answer either. The damned Knotheads sat motionless, staring into each other's eyes like some kind of statues. Sighing, Dean rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself.
It was so ridiculous and upsetting. Why did Alphas always act this way?
"Look... sooner or later, one of you will have to speak. You can't just sit here until you die. I'm certainly not going to feed you."
"I'm waiting for Novak to make his offer," Dad finally spoke up, not bothering to look at Dean.
"I don't have anything to offer you if I don't know what you want," Cas replied with a somewhat awkward phrasing, at least to Dad's lumberjack ears.
Dad growled slightly, too.
"Two hours ago you had an exact idea of what I wanted, and you didn't hesitate to give me a quarter of a million to keep Dean."
"Wait...what?" asked Dean. Had Castiel done that? Did he offer his dad money? Shit! Was he trying to buy him like he was some kind of hook? "You wanted to buy me? Like he was one of your girls?" He asked sharply.
At that moment, Castiel immediately turned to him, the mask of coldness slipping from his face and his shoulders relaxing. When he looked at Dean, he was a different man than the one who had faced his father. His expression... the lines around his eyes and mouth... the warmth in his eyes. It was soft, welcoming, and it was probably what drew the growl from Dad's throat. But at the same time, it didn't really put Dean at ease. It didn't matter how Castiel looked at him, if he tried to buy him... Old fears of being nothing more than a temporary distraction for his Alpha reared their ugly heads. You don't offer money to someone you care about. You give it when someone asks for it, yes. But offering...offering was different. It meant that Castiel could measure Dean's worth in money, and there was something damned wrong with that.
"Of course not, Dean," he denied what his father had just said. "I wasn't trying to buy you. I offered your father money to leave town and never come back. I didn't know then... some of the things I know now, and I thought bribing him to get out of your life was the best solution."
"That's a lie," Dad spat with a growl in his voice. "I asked him if he wanted to buy you, and he said yes."
"You asked for more money."
"And you tried to kill me!"
"After you tried to kill me!"
"I was protecting my son from a fucking pedo!" Dad barked.
Then several things happened almost simultaneously.
A loud growl ripped from Castiel's throat, escalating into something unpleasantly similar to the Alpha's roar, and the strong smell of bitter almonds exploded through the air. A moment later, his Alpha was on his feet, grabbing the edge of the table with his injured hand and, as if it didn't hurt a bit, pushing it aside to get to the other Alpha. Dad growled with almost the same intensity, baring his teeth, filling the air with the bitter, rotten smell of burning roses, and scrambled to his feet.
Two angry alphas... Dean's Alphas... stood facing each other, ready to pounce and kill each other. He'd had enough of this shit. Something inside him snapped. His Omega surged inside him with a similar strength and determination, as if it wanted to protect the puppy, and when it came down to it, it really did. Sam was here, too, and if the Alphas got involved, Sammy could easily get hurt. He had to stop them now.
He jumped out of his chair and, without thinking, reached for his belt where his gun was, pointed it casually at the table that had been pushed away, and squeezed the trigger four times in quick succession. The shots cut through the air and the growls of the Alphas, complemented by the shattering of a glass bowl and a single bottle, and the sound of cracking wood as the bullets hit the table.
The two Alphas stopped in mid-movement and turned to Dean with surprised and utterly confused faces. The red in their eyes quickly faded and the bitter smell of Alpha rage was literally overwhelmed by the strong sweetness of Omega.
Dean exhaled sharply.
There was silence, and suddenly... suddenly everything around them seemed calm. The atmosphere of coldness, tension, and then anger that had emanated from Case and Dad seemed to dissipate, and the two Alphas even dropped their silly posturing. In fact, they looked uncertain, even embarrassed, and in Castiel's case, confused, as he cocked his head to one side like a large bird and squinted from beneath his furrowed brows.
Dean took several slow breaths and exhaled. Then he slipped the gun back into his belt.
This silence was great. Finally, he was sure that the two stupid Zauzlens were listening to him, and not just listening, but fully aware.
"I've had enough of this," he broke the silence with a hoarse voice. "I'm tired of the two of you doing things behind my back because you think you know better than me what I need and want."
"I'm your father. I know what - " Dad began.
"Really?" He cut him off and roasted him with a look, not caring how disrespectful the behavior was or that it might irritate Alpha. "You've left us alone for weeks. You didn't call, you didn't send money... I ended up in a damn Omega shelter. Sun Hill. Have you heard of it?" He asked, pleased to see a flash of recognition on his dad's face. He probably hadn't seen the video of Dean pulling the Omegas out of the burning house, because it was true that Dad was only interested in very specific things, and he didn't care about the scandal surrounding some Omega shelter. Still, he couldn't have missed it completely. At least he knew a little, and even that little was enough to throw him off. "The whole time I was there, I thought someone would come for me. Maybe you. Yeah... yeah, I got out on my own eventually, but it was Castiel who made sure I couldn't be put in a place like that again. He helped me become an adult, gave me this lair..." he waved his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. "And when you finally came back, you didn't even bother to talk to me. You wanted to kidnap me and tear me away from my Alpha. To kill him. Have you thought about what that would do to me? What would breaking the scent bond do to me? It could have killed me. Was that what was best for me?"
From Case's left, he heard a contemptuous laugh that contained a note of triumph. He knew that tone all too well, as well as the scent that wafted to him from his Alpha. He thought he'd gotten what he wanted. Dean was ready to lead him astray.
"And you," he turned to him. "You tried to buy me, as if I were something less than human."
"I said I wasn't buying you, I was buying your father."
"No, you bought me. You were even able to determine my value. Two hundred and fifty thousand. Is that what I'm worth to you?"
"Dorogay..." Castiel began softly, taking a half step forward, his hand raised as if to touch Dean. But the man raised his hand to stop him and moved away.
"Don't touch me!" he barked between bared teeth. "I'm not for sale, Castiel! I don't care how much money you pull out of your pockets. Millions even. You'll never buy me. I own you only because I want to. Because I let you, okay? And honestly, Alpha..." He put his hand down and walked over to his Alpha, head held high, looking straight into his eyes, not showing the slightest respect, let alone the submission they both loved so much, "... I don't really have much desire to own you or any other Alpha right now," he said harshly, realizing almost immediately that maybe that was more than he should have said. Especially since he didn't really mean it. He was angry at both of them for trying to decide his fate, and he wanted to tell them off, but he wasn't prepared for the painful disappointment in Castiel's eyes. Nor for the creeping scent of rejected Alpha that filled the air. Nor for one, but to Dean's surprise, two.
He turned sharply to his father. His expression was hard, but his scent didn't lie. It was a little different than Castiel's. The nuances were different. Dean knew instinctively that Castiel's scent was that of a rejected Mate. Dad's scent was the scent of an Alpha who'd lost a member of his pack.
A lump suddenly formed in his throat. It choked him, but didn't prevent him from smelling all those unpleasant smells. His Omega whimpered quietly. He didn't want to hurt one of his Alphas like that... hurt. Hell, he didn't even know that he could. Who had ever heard of an Omega being able to figuratively knock out two strong, dominant Alphas at once, but still... here was proof that it was possible, and Dean damn well didn't want to be the one to show it to the world.
"Fuck..." he breathed out sharply and backed up to get away from the strongest cloud of Alpha scent. His eyes darted from one silent Alpha to the next. He didn't know what to say or do and just... "I need some air for a while. Out of this stink."
That was all he could bring himself to say. Quickly turning on his heel, he slipped past Sam, who was keeping a safe distance from the whole conflict, and trotted to the balcony door. His hands were sweating, making it difficult to push the latch that held the door shut. It took him three tries to get it right.
He pushed the door wide open and breathed in the icy evening air, already free of most street smells at this altitude. It was a damned relief.
He stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him and taking slow breaths to clear his nose and head. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to leave the alphas inside alone, but they seemed to be calm right now, and Dean really needed a moment.
Just five minutes to clear his head.
°°0°°
He watched as Dean slammed the balcony door behind him until the glass shook. The sound burrowed into his throbbing head. He was sure he had a concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, a bruised hip, maybe a cracked vertebrae or two, and not to mention a few simple bruises and cracked nasal cartilage. He'd been injured more in his long, dangerous life, but not by much. Flying a floor or a floor and a half up was a lot even for an Alpha, and Castiel was sure that if he stopped for a moment and gave his body a chance to thoroughly experience all the injuries, he'd probably struggle to get up for a day or two. He might heal faster as an Alpha than as a Beta, but it wouldn't be pleasant.
Still, all the physical pain, plus the now suppressed adrenaline and Alpha enzymes, was nothing compared to the pain his Alpha was in because of Omega's words. Dean leaving him was the only thing he was really afraid of, and that fear was something he didn't know, and it was driving him crazy. He wanted more than anything to eliminate anyone who could take away his Omega. To lash out at the Winchester that was the source of Dean's anger and rip its throat out again. To get rid of the danger forever. The problem was that it wasn't wise, especially when he could smell Winchester's scent and knew that the other Alpha was in a similar position to him.
Clenching his uninjured hand into a fist, he took a step toward the balcony in an instinctive effort to be closer to his Omega.
"I wouldn't go after him if I were you."
He shot a sharp glance at the Alpha pup out of the corner of his eye.
"What do you know about it, pup..."
"I don't know... maybe the fact that I've known Dean a lot longer than you have, and I know that when he's in that mood, he needs to calm down?" Samuel replied snidely.
Castiel stifled a growl.
The puppy was as brash and without the slightest hint of respect as ever. But Castiel had promised Dean that he would be more patient with him, and there was no greater need for patience than now, with the old Winchester around. He still longed to kill him, and provoking another feud was a bad idea. It would end in the death of one of them, and Dean would be there to witness it.
"He's like his mother," a voice from the other side surprised Castiel.
He turned to the other Alpha, who was still standing where he had been, but had completely dropped the pose and was frowning in the same direction as Castiel.
"He has her eyes, her nose, her freckles, and her temper," Winchester continued in a distant, almost melancholy tone, never taking his eyes off the Dean, who was slowly crossing the balcony. "My Mary was... strong, brave, and confident Omega. She could do anything she wanted and feared nothing, just like Dean." He paused, then slowly turned his head toward Castiel, and as he looked into his eyes, he lifted his chin in a pose that conveyed more courtesy than threat. "When we first met, I thought I was saving her, but she ended up saving me."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
Winchester seemed to be offering some sort of olive branch. With a quick glance, he checked Dean, who had stopped at the railing, looking out over the city, then turned and sucked in air. His nose was swollen, making it difficult to detect scents, but still he was sure that the previous anger and pent-up aggression had mostly drained out of Winchester. This was an opportunity. Castiel's gun was on the couch, and though he was a step away from it, he would manage to pick it up and use it now that his opponent's guard was down. He could kill Winchester and put an end to this. Dean would have to forgive eventually. He would have no choice, because no matter what Castiel's Alpha thought, the Omega could never leave him.
He took a cautious step toward the couch.
"The first time I met Dean," he began casually, "he pulled a knife on me and threatened to cut off my knot."
Winchester laughed gruffly.
"Yeah...! That's my boy! He knows how to look after himself. I trained him well."
He was about to take another step towards the gun, but was stopped by the way John Winchester spoke of Dean. There was no doubt that he was proud of him, and with every word, the scent of blooming roses filled the air.
Winchester cared about his son.
Castiel was wrong to think it was just the Alpha's possessive instinct. Winchester wasn't an ideal father, but he wasn't like Constantine. He wasn't cruel and uncaring. He didn't pit his sons against one another. He didn't brand them like cattle. He did not make them hate him so much that they wanted to disown him and tear him to pieces, so much that the St. Petersburg CID collected him in plastic bags.
He let go of his still clenched fist, letting his shoulders sag and his body soften as he took half a step toward the other Alpha. His head was still held high. He made it clear that this was his territory, but he didn't show that Winchester was not welcome here anymore.
The other Alpha tensed and tasted the air in disbelief as he sized Castiel up. He showed no willingness to accept the imaginary invitation, but no intention of attacking again.
Castiel settled for that. It was probably the best they could get, since he couldn't imagine ever getting along with Winchester, and he doubted Dean's father felt differently. But he was willing to postpone their fight. For now. The future? That was a matter of circumstance.
"He's strong, brave, capable, and loyal. That's what I admire about him."
He knows how to look after himself.I trained him well."
Castiel also turned to meet the frowning gaze of his Omega standing at the balcony door.
°°0°°
He leaned against the railing and reached into his pocket for a plastic bag. It contained the last of his joint. Such a messy end. He kept it out of habit, because he hadn't really accepted that if it was weed, and maybe some other drugs, all he had to do was ask and get as much as he wanted or needed for free.
But now this poor little thing came in handy. He needed to calm his Omega, which was nervously pacing back and forth.
He put the fake joint in his mouth, clicked the lighter and took a drag. The warm smoke filled his mouth and that alone brought him some peace. The familiar promise that he would feel lighter and calmer in a moment. And that he damn well had to be calm if he was going to go back in there and face not one, but two Alpha idiots. And maybe three if Sam joined in. He hoped not. He hoped his little brother would be on his side, clinging to his calm with all his might.
He swiped again, then tossed the tiny tip he could barely hold between his fingers over the railing. Leaning forward, he watched it make its way down into the darkness between the two lamps that lit the side of the superstructure. Who knew why the lights were there, since no one walked on the roof below. Maybe just so it wouldn't be so dark out here on the balcony.
He pushed off the railing with determination and turned to face the room. He half expected to see his Alpha and his father there, at the very least snarling at each other, so he was a little surprised to see the two of them standing quite close to each other, not striking any silly Alpha poses. In fact, Castiel's posture showed polite friendliness and his dad's cautious acceptance.
What the hell...? Had the Alphas come to their senses? That seemed almost impossible, considering how much they'd been at each other's throats in the last few hours. He was suspicious, and with a look of disbelief on his face, he opened the door and walked back into the room.
He could smell the scents of his alphas from such a distance in a limited way, but even so, he could tell that both the anger and the abandonment had faded into a kind of mustiness that was surprisingly tinged with the sweet smell of his father's rose-scented happiness. And when he looked at the faces of all the Alphas, who were standing in a semicircle in amusement as if waiting for Dean's orders, he saw no former anger in them. It was more like anticipation.
"You didn't kill each other. That's great," he commented, slowly approaching them. Cautiously. When the anger had drained out of him and his Omega didn't feel like Sammy could be in danger, his instincts and the well-known need to submit kicked in. And the nagging feeling that he might have pissed off two powerful Alphas and that just wasn't cool. But he wasn't afraid. There was nothing to be afraid of here, he just felt that he should try to keep the Alphas calm, even at the cost of his own discomfort.
He let his instincts take over and let his head fall to the side, showing his neck, but he didn't lower his gaze. Keeping a safe distance, he took a deep breath and spoke in a carefully controlled voice:
"I think we've all gone a little overboard, haven't we?" he suggested, adding a soft smile. "I suggest we sit down at the table and try to talk about why we're here. About... about the guy who killed our mother."
"We don't have a table," came from Castiel.
He looked at him and blinked.
"We don't have a table. You shot it up," the Alpha repeated in a neutral voice.
Dean blinked again, then looked at the wooden debris and shards where the coffee table had been.
"Uh... yeah... uh... I meant that figuratively, of course. I mean..." He rubbed his neck nervously. "Sorry about the coffee table, okay? We'll get a new one. That would work, right?"
"No," Cas told him simply, "It was an antique. France, 1872. Original condition. You don't just buy things like that on the street.”
"Um... sorry?" He said carefully. Cas had a lot of expensive stuff like that in this apartment, and this wasn't the first time Dean had broken something. His first accident had been with one of those blue stone ashtrays. The Alpha had just picked it up and thrown it in the trash. This time, he seemed to care, though...
The impassive look on Castiel's face melted into a tiredness that painted deep lines on his face and landed on his eyelids. His Alpha just let out a long sigh before placing his hand on the back of the couch and slowly sitting down.
"What does it matter...? It was just a table." He waved his hand icily and leaned back to look into his father's face. Dean saw his hand shift as he made the movement, as if to put it around his stomach, but then he just put it on his thigh.
"Dean's right. Let's call a truce for now, at least until I know what help I can offer you. And until you know if you want to accept it. After that... if we can't come to an agreement, we might as well pick up where we left off in the garage."
Dean took a breath to protest.
"Okay," Dad interrupted before he could make a sound, then sat back in the chair he'd been offered earlier, but this time he was less tense than before. "What do you want to know?"
"I know the police file on your mate's death. It originally indicated to me that you probably killed her," as Castiel said this, Dad growled warningly, his lips lifting to show a bit of fang. Dean was ready to step forward, assuming Cas wouldn't take it lying down, but this time he kept his impassive calm and continued, "But Dean told me he'd met the real killer and that the Alpha wanted to kill him too. That's why I offered you a truce and help. We have a common enemy. Unfortunately, I know almost nothing about him. You, on the other hand, have dedicated your life to hunting him. Tell me what you know about him, and in return, I will find out what you don't know and give you... whatever you need.”
"Sounds good. All that remains is to ask what you want in return," Dad said, and it wasn't really a question.
"First and foremost, I want you to kill that Alpha. If there's anything else I want... well," he waved his hand in a vague gesture. "That will depend on what I give you and how much it costs me. So I'd leave the question of payment until the end of the meeting."
Dad was silent for a long time, and Dean knew why. Like him, Dad thought Castiel would want something in return. He'd seen him deal with Alastair, so he knew his Alpha could be really good at that when he wanted to be. Negotiating and getting what he wanted. And he also knew what Castiel would want from his father. He'd want Dean to stay with him, and he'd probably want his dad never to come back. Never to see him again. It made his stomach churn. The thought of losing contact with his Alpha father didn't sit well with him or his Omega, but he decided not to think about it for now. This was about his mother and the Alpha who had killed her. That was more important than his stupid feelings.
"Okay," Dad agreed again before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, turning to Dean and extending a hand in his direction. "My notes are in the trunk. In the box... you know the one. Get them."
"Yes, sir," he replied, reaching for the keys.
Castiel's hand shot out like an arrow and grabbed his wrists.
"No," he said firmly. "Dean will stay here. Samuel will go get them."
Dad drew back his lip in a low, threatening growl, and for a moment, it looked like the situation might escalate again if Sammy - God bless him - didn't reach around Dean and grab the keys to the Impala.
"I'll go."
With the keys safely in Sam's clenched fist, Castiel let go of his hand and relaxed.
"Wait. I need to let you go..."
He walked Sam to the door outside, opened it, and asked Vadim to walk Sam to the car and back. The little Alpha could have done it alone, and he showed it by rolling his eyes, but honestly... Dean felt more confident after everything that had happened today with one of Castiel's Betas with him.
He stayed by the door, listening to what was going on inside the apartment while watching the elevator doors close behind Sam and Vadim. It was completely silent. Not a creak from the sofa or the chair.
"Is everything okay inside?" Jacob asked.
"Yeah, sure," he replied in a light-hearted tone, smiling sweetly.
"We thought we heard a noise," Beta pointed out, looking over Dean's shoulder as if he might be able to see through the wall behind him.
The comment about the noise was both humorous and enlightening. A few shots were definitely not just 'some noise' and an experienced guy like Jacob would not have mistaken the shots for anything, but he just asked if everything was okay instead of rushing in as soon as the door opened. That meant one thing: not only did the apartment have an armored door and bulletproof glass, it was also soundproof. A total bunker and it was... damn perfect. Despite the situation they were in, his Omega hummed contentedly. This was simply the safest place to raise puppies. No one could get in.
Fortunately, before he could get lost in these thoughts, the elevator doors opened and Sam emerged, followed by Vadim, who was carrying a large cardboard box. Dean knew it very well. It was old, the corners dented, the handles chewed from being carried, and it was stained with water, gun oil, and who knew what else. There was a laptop sticking out of the top and some files.
"I told you I could handle it, but he didn't show it," Sam muttered as he walked past Dean.
Oh, how he understood him. Before he'd gotten used to it, he'd been very uncomfortable with the Alpha Betas wanting to do everything for him. Now he was used to it, but as far as the box was concerned, he wanted to take it into himself. He grabbed it to take it from Vadim's hand, but he didn't let go, a slightly stubborn look on his face. He probably wanted to go inside to make sure his boss was okay. Fine. Dean had no problem with that. He knew the Betas were loyal to Castiel and wanted to protect him, so he dropped the box and stepped back.
"Take it inside, Vadim, and put it... on the floor by the couch," he raised his voice just enough to be heard so Castiel could get ready.
Beta walked past Dean and up the stairs. At the top of them, he stopped, crouched down, and stared at the broken table. Dean quickly caught up with him and looked over at Castiel, who had time to change his position. He was now sitting with his leg over the leg and his arms draped over the back of the sofa, showing that everything around him belonged to him, as did his complete calm.
"Vse v poryadke, boss?" Beta asked, his gaze fixed on the trigger on the floor.
"Da. Vso khorosho. Zdes' my reshayem semeynyye voprosy. Polozhite ikh na zemlyu i ukhodite," Castiel replied calmly, sending him away with a small flick of his hand.
Beta didn't hesitate, placing the box on the floor next to his father's chair and leaving.
Everyone remained still and silent until the door closed behind Vadim, whereupon Dad spoke with a new hostility in his voice:
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him that everything was fine and that we were dealing with family matters. If you want to check, open a translator on your phone and I'll repeat it for you."
"No... that won't be necessary," Dad replied, and he and Castiel stared into each other's eyes for a moment before he turned away and lifted the box onto his lap. "When I started looking years ago, I didn't have much. Just Dean's description, and since he was a little puppy, he couldn't tell me much more than that he was an Alpha, white, tall, and had brown hair. That's what half the Alphas in the States look like. But... " he pulled out one of the old paper police files and looked at Castiel, " "From what Dean told me, I got the impression that this wasn't the first time this guy had done this. He got into the house without setting off the alarm and waking the puppies. And Mary..." he paused, as he always did when he said his mother's name out loud. "They found her in our bed. That's where he killed her." He paused again, not as noticeably this time, as he went back to pulling out the files. "And he also managed to set the house on fire quickly and efficiently. That takes knowledge, a plan, and experience. I won't go into details," he said, tossing the folders onto the rest of the table, and then the last one, a little thinner than the others. "I know what he looks like, how he works, what his names were, and what he calls himself. I know he's murdered twelve mated Omegas in the last twenty years... including my Mate. Ten of them were women, two were men. All had one or two children, and all had been mated for at least five years."
Castiel grabbed the top file. Dean took the rest and sat down beside him, noticing Sam out of the corner of his eye as he quietly walked around the back of the couch and stood behind him.
Dad kept everything about his mission a secret. He never told them where he was going, who he was talking to, what he was planning to do, or what he had found out. And he especially didn't show them the contents of his box. Dean had looked in it once, but he was only nine at the time and didn't really understand much of what he saw in there. Now, for the first time, he had a chance to really look at everything, and so did Sam. So it was no wonder he was interested.
When Castiel opened the file, it was immediately clear that this wasn't a police file.
There was a photo at the top, a little blurry and grainy, probably from an old security camera, but still... the face. Dean recognized that face. It was etched in his memory, even after all these years, and now that he looked at it again... a heavy stone settled in his stomach. This was him. This was the Alpha who had led them out of the house. The Alpha who had killed their mom.
Without a word or more reaction than a whiff of bitter almonds, Castiel pushed the photo aside and continued to look through the file.
"He's had a lot of names over the years. Tomas Davis, Jack Mallon, Petrik Alvarez... I don't know which one is real, if any, but there's one that's been repeated over and over; Azazel. That's..."
"The name of a fallen angel or demon. It comes from Judaism, but Christians have adopted it to some extent," Castiel finished for him, looking up from the folder. "It won't be his name, but it's certainly a popular nickname."
Dean couldn't help but think that the name reminded him of something. Not that he'd ever heard it... yeah, right, it was very similar to the name Alastair. If it was a coincidence, it was a damned strange one. And considering that Dad had stolen something from Alastair that Dean guessed must have been about Azazel, it probably wasn't a coincidence.
"Yeah. That's my opinion, too," Dad nodded and paused.
Meanwhile, Castiel slowly leafed through the various papers in the file. They were leases for various houses and apartments in different parts of the United States, mostly in small towns. Some of the names meant something to Dean. They were probably in those towns as well. Others meant nothing to him. And the names Azazel had signed them with told him nothing at all, but it was obvious just by looking at them that it was the same handwriting. The smell... there was none that could be clearly and unquestionably identified. There were too many other smells, including the smell of gun oil and dirty laundry that had gotten onto the pages in their own trunk.
The Alpha reached the end, closed the file and set it aside without a word, only to take another from Dean's lap.
This one was clearly a police file, dated about five years before Dean's birth. Some town in Pennsylvania, probably small, similar to their hometown. And as Castiel turned the pages of the document, a painfully familiar story began to unfold before Dean's eyes.
The slain Omega had a six-year-old Alpha son whose testimony was recorded in the file. He testified that he had met an Alpha named Al at school. And it was Al who came to his room at night and took him outside before the house caught fire. The son of a bitch used the same trick on the little Alpha that he used on Dean twelve years ago, and the Alpha puppy believed him. It was... comforting in a morbid way that he was ashamed of. . If Alpha fell for it, maybe it wasn't Dean. Maybe he wasn't a weak Omega who listened to every Alpha.
And then the story unfolded in a very similar way. The Alpha of the family went on a planned business trip, leaving the Omega and the puppy at home. She was murdered in her bed with twenty stab wounds, possibly raped, but the autopsy couldn't prove that for sure because her body was too charred. And the house fire certainly destroyed any other clues.
Castiel closed the file and looked up at his silent father.
"These police files are all the same?"
"Almost," Dad nodded. "Azazel always befriends puppy of Omega he plans to kill. It instills confidence in him, so then when he comes to the pup's lair, the pup isn't afraid of him, and he can murder its mother with ease. Finally, he sets fire to the house and takes the puppy out."
"And the victims...are they similar?"
Dean honestly didn't notice at first, in fact he avoided looking at the photos, but he did. The Omega looked a lot like his mother. Blonde with bright eyes and a nice smile.
"A lot alike."
"Male Omegas... they look like Dean?" Cas asked another question that confused Dean.
Dad pursed his lips and glanced in his direction, a wave of the foul smell of smoldering roses wafting through the air before he turned back to Castiel.
"Yeah...they look a lot like Dean."
So that was the point. The fact that Azazel had told him then that he'd come back for him.
"Nobody ever connected the murders?"
"No," Dad replied. "In fact, two of them have been officially solved. The ones with the red mark on the file. In one case, they arrested a bum. And in the other case, the Mate of the murdered Omega."
"These," Castiel nodded to the files, "are all the murders you attribute to him?"
"I've found no others."
"I don't think they're the only ones," Cas pointed out, putting the file on Dean's lap so he could light a cigarette. He inhaled the smoke, letting it out slowly between words as he continued, "He's a hunter. He thrives on stalking his prey and waiting for the right opportunity. He is patient. It's a trait you learn with age and experience. He's killed before, but probably in a different way."
"Right.
Maybe he has," Dad said, surprisingly not arguing. "What do I have to know that he's killed in a different way? I have enough evidence that he's a bloodthirsty monster and that he killed... killed Mary. It's not about pinning other crimes on him. I want to find him."
"If we know how and more importantly where he killed before he focused on the blonde Omegas with the kids, it'll be easier to find out who he is and where he was born. And when we find that out, we'll have the key to finding him. Everyone comes home sooner or later, whether their home was happy or hated," Cas replied with his usual philosophical air. Dean smiled slightly. This was the calm, level-headed Alpha he loved and who, according to his father's expression, could make others... well, in his dad's case, more disgusted than surprised by his calm.
"Yeah, finding out who he really is would help me find him. Really good advice. If you have nothing else, Novak, then there's no deal."
"I can have much more, but first tell me... what did you steal from Alastair?"
Dad grumbled. Just as annoyed as when something went wrong and he didn't want to admit that he had made a mistake.
"It was supposed to help me in my search, but in the end it was nothing important."
"It was so important that Alastair found us at the motel, threatened us, talked about you robbing him and was very interested in finding you," he interjected.
Dad shot a quick, worried look at him and then at Sam standing behind him. Of course, it didn't take long for him to look like his usual self again.
"But you made it," he pointed out.
"Yeah, we did," Sammy nodded. "Dean had to shoot two of his men."
"I did what I had to do and what you taught us. It's done and it doesn't matter anymore," Dean interjected quickly, feeling his Alpha tense. He had the urge to at least put a hand on his knee to calm him down, but that would anger his father for a change, so he only dared to spread his legs a little and lean his knee against Castiel's.
The Alpha tensed under the light touch at first, but then slowly relaxed and bucked into Dean's. The heat seeping through their legs felt good. But the Alpha kept walking, flicking his cigarette from hand to hand and resting his arm on the back of the couch without blinking, so that it was leading Dean's neck. All he had to do was lean back a little and it would be pressed against a sensitive spot on his neck.
Castiel did it as a provocation, and Dad allowed himself to be whipped into at least pursing his lips and glaring hostilely at the hand that was almost resting on Dean's shoulder.
Though he longed to lean into the comforting, roasted cherry-scented embrace. But he didn't want to escalate an already tense situation, so he remained seated, his back straight.
"But if Alastair wanted this thing so badly that he came after us, maybe it was more important than it first appears."
"It was nothing more than a locked box and an old photograph," Dad replied, but at the same time he reached into the box and pulled out a small wooden box that had originally held a lock that had been roughly broken off, along with an eyelet drilled into the wood.
Dad tossed the box onto the remains of the table. Castiel picked it up, placed it on his lap, and opened it. He did it all with one hand, holding a cigarette inside.
Dean looked inside, just as he had looked in the file before. The box contained nothing more than a folded photo and a rock. A simple, inconspicuous rock, probably granite or something. Just a pebble, like there were thousands of them in every river. Nothing worth protecting so fervently by someone like Alastair.
Castiel tucked his cigarette behind his gold tooth, which gleamed in the bright light of the overhead fixtures, took out a photograph and unfolded it.
It was an old, faded, ragged-cornered photograph that must have been printed twenty or thirty years ago. It showed a group boys, somewhere between Dean's and Sam's ages. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen at the most. There were five of them, all wearing ridiculous uniforms of some scout troop or something. Just brown shorts, shirts, scarves and jackets with patches, and sneakers and striped socks on their feet. They looked like complete idiots. But the one person who didn't look bad at all was their team leader.
She was blonde, her hair falling down to her shoulders. Her legs came out of the same beige pants, so nice that even the boots above her ankles didn't spoil it, and although she wore a scarf around her neck, she had also undone the buttons on her shirt just enough to show the dip between her breasts, but nothing more. She was really pretty and Dean wasn't surprised that all five guys wanted to get as close to her as possible.
"Is that all that was inside?" Castiel looked at the photo questioningly.
"Yes," his dad nodded with a hint of an impatient, disgruntled grunt. "Looks like childhood souvenirs. Definitely nothing to help me find Azazel. For a while, I thought maybe the box was important somehow..." He nodded his head slightly toward the box on Castiel's thigh, "but it's nothing of interest. It's about thirty years old, American made, not rare. You can buy one like it at any garage sale."
While his dad talked, Dean took a picture of the Alpha so he could get a closer look. The boys in it must have been about the same age as Dad and Cas. He probably wouldn't recognize them if they were sitting in front of him right now.
A hand landed on his upper arm.
He rolled his head and his eyes and looked at Sam, who reached for the photo. He let him look at it as well.
"Did you try to find the woman in the photo?"
"Sure. I searched the police database, obituaries, missing persons... I even did a damn Google search on the photo, but nothing." This time, Dad even bared his teeth in frustration, and the foul smell of his anger filled the air again. Of course, Castiel couldn't stay behind. The bitter almonds were a perfect match for the deep throat that ripped from his chest.
"I know who these guys are," Sam interrupted the thickening atmosphere with a surprised blasphemy spoken in a thoughtful voice.
The snarls of the two older Alphas were muffled and everyone looked over at Little Alpha, who was clutching the photo and looking down at it in that familiar, intent way Dean looked at his school projects or gathered information on his new 'hobbies'. Geology, which had caught his fancy when he was five, starting with mass murderers and Omega rights.
"You don't know who he is, puppy. Those guys are at least forty now," Dad brushed his statement off with the typical suspicion he had of Sammy when it came to... well, anything but a school project. Because Dad thought Sam was smart and saw the same future for him that Dean saw for his brother, but he thought of him as a kid. And he still thinks of him as a kid. As if he hadn't noticed how much Sammy had grown and matured in those few weeks.
Well, Dean didn't have any current mistrust of his abilities, so when Sam suddenly lifted his head from the photo, his face alternating between confusion at being taken out of his thoughts and the beginnings of a frown, he spoke before Sam could say anything rude to their dad.
"Who do you think that is?"
The little Alpha looked up quickly, then glanced back at his father before reaching into his pocket.
"I'll show you," he said. He searched for something on his phone for a moment, then pointed the camera at the photo and took a picture. "Here. Look..." he trailed off and handed Dean his phone.
One look and he understood.
Sam had applied an aging filter to the photo of one of the boys' faces, and the result was a face he knew all too well. Alastair's face, etched in his memory, and it didn't matter that the older version of the boy in the photo wasn't quite accurate. The resemblance was still there.
"Alastair..." Castiel said darkly, looking over his shoulder.
"And this one..." he placed the photo in front of them, Sam pointing to another, slightly bulkier boy, "I think that's... him."
"What?" Dad's irritated voice came. "No way. It can't be both of them. Give it to me. I want to see it!"
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded and handed both the photo and his cell phone to his father.
Dean watched with concern as his dad's face turned gray and the wrinkles deepened, filling the air not with anger or irritation, but with the unpleasant, musty smell of despair.
"I had the best lead... all this time... I had Alastair... I had a barrel in his mouth to make him tell me where the box was... instead I should have made him tell me where Azazel was..." he muttered softly, closing his eyes and gripping Sam's cell phone so tightly that the plastic creaked.
Cas tensed and leaned forward a little, literally vibrating not so much with anger as with the need to protect. He smelled like a protective Alpha ready to pounce, but Dean knew it wouldn't be necessary. Dad was far from angry. He knew the look on his face and the scent that wafted from him. That was what he'd smelled when he'd gotten drunk and started reminiscing about his mother. He was unhappy, not angry, and it was pointless for Castiel to worry or even escalate the situation by deciding to preemptively attack.
So he put a hand on his thigh and shook his head slightly as the Alpha turned sharply toward him. Castiel's eyes narrowed, his head tilted slightly, and the way his corners turned and his wrinkles smoothed into thin lines showed disapproval, but he obeyed. He sat back, visibly forcing himself to relax.
"We can have enough of him now," he said to Dad. "Right?" He turned to Castiel for confirmation.
"Yes," the Alpha nodded. "We can get Alastair to talk."
"That won't be so easy," Dad replied sharply. "It took me nearly six months to gain the trust of one of his people, and then he led me to Alastair. It won't happen again. My contact is dead, everyone already knows me, and you... Novak... will have a hard time pretending to be anything other than who you are."
"Covert missions are your style, not ours. One word, and we could have Alastair and his entire organization on their knees by tomorrow morning," Castiel pointed out, taking a drag from his cigarette and slowly releasing the smoke, literally hypnotizing his father in the process, and his dad reciprocated. Another stupid Alpha battle of wills, which Castiel oddly enough gave up first as he looked away, leaned over and choked his cigarette on the remains of the table before raising his eyes to the other Alpha again. "I'll do it. I'll give you Alastair and you can ask him anything you want..."
"But now we'll talk about the price," Dad finished for him.
Dean frowned slightly.
"This is about my mom, Cas. And dad doesn't have anything you might want," he pointed out, even though he knew that wasn't quite true. Whether he liked it or not, Dad was an Alpha and Dean was a member of his pack. There were certain property rights, and even though his Omega had already decided to change Alphas, she wanted his old Alpha to agree as well.
"He has a very important thing, Dorogoy..."
Me, he added mentally, grinning a little.
"...His blessing on both of us," Castiel surprised him, slowly standing up, showing with every slow, lithe movement that he had no ill intentions, then looking down at dad from his height. "Let's talk in my office...alone," he added as Dean moved to his side.
Considering that they were ready to kill each other with their bare hands and fangs just a few minutes ago, he didn't think it was a good idea to leave them alone. As long as he was with them, he could at least give them some direction and at worst get between them. He was sure that they would both stop, since neither of them wanted to hurt him.
"Okay," Dad agreed and stood up as carefully as Cas had. "Stay here, Omega."
"Look... I think it's better if I come with you," he disagreed and stood up. "After all, this is about me too, isn't it?"
"No," Cas replied simply, giving him a look with sparkling blue eyes that held him in place. "There are things that your father and I have to deal with alone. Like Alpha and Alpha. Sit down again."
He didn't even blink and sank back onto the sofa. Damn work! His stupid instincts had chained him to the sofa and wouldn't let him get up, so he could only watch as Castiel walked to his office, his father trailing behind. And pray to all the gods that they didn't fight again behind closed doors and throw each other out the window. Or something like that.
Chapter Text
His back hit the wall by the door. The knife glinted, its blade pressed against his throat, and Winchester leaned his full weight against his chest. Pain shot from his bruised ribs and the muscles in his chest clenched to keep his ribs from actually cracking under the pressure. It took his breath away and, coupled with the proximity of the enemy Alpha's scent, riled his inner Alpha. He growled, urging him to defend himself, but Castiel did not heed his wishes.
With a gasp, he pushed it to the back of his mind, swallowing the sips that filled his mouth, trying to ignore the itchy feeling in his gums as his fangs dug in. He managed to hold them back, but let out a deep, warning growl. He knew the old Winchester didn't want to kill him. He knew enough about him and had seen enough to be sure that if he wanted to kill him, he would be lying on the ground right now, choking on his own blood from his slit throat. It was only a threat. Winchester wanted to prove his strength, and as much as Castiel disliked it, he was willing, for the moment, not to respond. But not to give in. Hence the growl.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you. And you helping me find Azazel isn't a good enough reason. I've gotten by without you so far, I can get by without you now."
"Dean would never forgive you," he replied.
Something flashed in Winchester's eyes and his scent changed. The pressure of the blade on Castiel's throat eased as well.
He controlled himself and did not smile.
John Winchester was one of those people who couldn't be bought, but at the same time, he was definitely one of the few who could be blackmailed. For though he was a bad father, capable of leaving his boys unprotected, at the mercy of the world and people like Castiel, he also loved his sons. He cared for them. It was a weakness that worked in Castiel's favor, and one that he... envied. In a way. He would never be able to see in Constantine's eyes what was in John Winchester's.
"He wouldn't have forgiven you, and you know it, or I'd be dead by now," he pressed, but what he expected didn't happen.
Winchester moved the knife away from his throat so that the blade was no longer directly against his skin, but he didn't let go, nor did he put the knife down completely. He was still close enough that to try anything in his current state would be unnecessarily risky. The trip from the parking garage hadn't exactly added to his strength, and Winchester had been a worthy opponent before.
"I know. But I might take the risk if it gets you out of Dean's life."
Castiel blinked and tilted his head to the side. He sucked in the air, tasting all the nuances of the scents that wafted from Winchester. He smelled nothing that indicated he was lying or making false threats. That was surprising.
"Would you really do that? Would you kill me even if it would hurt Dean?"
"I'm Dean's father. I'm doing what's best for him, not what he wants. And getting someone like you out of his life..."
"You mean a criminal?" He raised an eyebrow in question, not biting back the hint of mockery in his voice.
Winchester's intentions were understandable, perhaps even noble. Any proper Alpha should kill anyone who touched his Omega, let alone anyone who harmed him or her. A protective Alpha going after his beloved Omega over dead bodies. This has been woven through literature, art, music, and film. But in the real world in which most people lived here in the States, and eventually in Russia, there was no place for such an Alpha. All that Winchester had done for his Mate, all the deaths that had piled up behind him and that he would add to the pile, were reprehensible. Not to Castiel, not to his men, not to Dean, but certainly to most people living their normal lives.
"First and foremost," the other Alpha nodded. "And also because you're a perverted bastard who likes children!" He said in disgust, showing the tips of his fangs between his parted lips, his scent filled with a wicked bitterness.
Castiel gritted his teeth, working hard to control himself.
Strangely, he had his limits. They were far beyond the morals of ordinary people, and they were fluid, but he had them. Child prostitution, child porn, and the sale of children were beyond those limits. If anyone thought they crossed that line, they died. By Castiel's own hand. It was a personal affront he had never allowed himself to take. Until now.
"Dean is not a child!" he growled back.
He knew only too well how young his Omega was. He saw it today and every day, but he was far from being a child. And maybe he never really was. He was strong, determined, and self-sufficient. He didn't even need Castiel, which was something that sometimes kept him awake, but it also meant that he knew what he wanted. And he made his own choices. He'd always tried very hard to give Dean that option, within reason, because some options had been taken out of Dean's life just by the fact that they'd met. And by being Castiel's True Mate.
"He's only sixteen!"
"He's old enough to make his own choices."
"Not old enough to know who you are!" Winchester retorted.
Castiel took a breath to respond, but thought better of it and decided to change his strategy. This argument could have gone on forever.
"What do you think I am, Alpha Winchester?" he asked rhetorically, not even intending to let the other Alpha answer. "A drug dealer? An arms dealer? Moneylender? A pimp? Head of a criminal organization? Da... Yes, I am all of these things. I'm a criminal and a murderer, but so are you. We're more alike than you'd like to admit," he said, waiting a moment for a reaction, but none came. Winchester watched him with dark eyes that reeked of Alpha musk and bitter rage and remained silent. Then Castiel continued, "You're right about all that, but about Dean... you're wrong. I'm not with him because of his age. I'm with him in spite of his age. I would prefer him to be at least five years older and more experienced, but he's only sixteen, and I have to accept that because he's my True Mate. Do you understand that?"
"The scent bond isn't everything," Winchester replied. "He's certainly not the first Omega you've been attracted to."
"He is the first. The first and only," he replied honestly, to Winchester's palpable surprise and disbelief. "Dean's scent isn't just special because he's my Mate. It's the only Omega scent that doesn't make him sick. The Lord sent him to me as a gift. As the perfect Mate..."
"As your personal toy!" The other Alpha interrupted, his voice laced with the beginnings of an angry growl.
"No. Dean and I are equals. We complement each other."
"Fucking lie! I saw how you treated him, and the collar, and the mark on his neck."
Castiel's patience rose to the rim of his goblet and threatened to overflow. Hadn't Winchester seen how much freedom and care he was giving Dean? Was he blind or just dazzled? Dull as all green brains.
Patience finally overflowing, Castiel growled, grabbed Winchester by the throat and shoved.
Winchester must have been surprised by the sudden change in behavior, for he staggered and allowed Castiel to pin him to the edge of the table. But then he recovered, and the blade of his knife bit into Castiel's throat. He felt it pierce the skin and the warm droplet run down his throat, but that was all. Winchester didn't bury the knife, but he didn't give up either.
They both remained tense, ready to continue the fight, but something was in the air. Something that stopped them both.
"Whose mark is that?" Winchester broke the silence with a question that caught him off guard and confused him for a moment.
Was the other Alpha referring to Dean's mark on his shoulder? He wasn't sure if he could see it. It could be. He changed into his bloody shirt, only he didn't bother to button it higher than the top of the bandages. Buttoning the small buttons was too hard with his stiff chest and injured arm, the adrenaline and the increased amount of Alpha enzymes circulating in his throat weren't conducive to patience either, and besides, just covering the bandages was enough to keep the enemy from seeing the damage he'd done. He didn't really care about the mark on his shoulder.
He turned his head a little towards his shoulder.
His shirt was partially off and an oval bruise of purple-green hue with the purple marks of Dean's teeth came into view.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, hoping that the blade was pressed into his skin.
"Whose do you think it is?" he asked, not stopping the curse from creeping into his voice. The Omega's mark was clear proof that Dean had chosen him, and Castiel was happy to rub it in Winchester's face.
But the other Alpha's reaction wasn't what he had expected. Anger was to be expected, he had even hoped for some of it. Instead, a shadow crossed Winchester's face and his scent was filled with a mixture of sadness and something that smelled and tasted like acceptance. Then the knife hand moved slowly away from his throat.
He froze, eyeing the other Alpha suspiciously, and his suspicion grew as Winchester put the knife away completely and tilted his head, showing his throat in a gesture of resignation and appropriate submission. Respect and recognition that Castiel was the Alpha of this lair.
It was surprising and suspicious, but upon reflection, he loosened his grip on Winchester's throat and carefully backed away, watching his every move. The other Alpha slowly straightened into a non-aggressive position, even turning his hands palms up. A knife lay loose in his right hand, and he half-clenched it several times before slowly raising it. Castiel narrowed his eyes, growing more alert, but Winchester did nothing more than hook his fingers into the collar of his jacket, as well as the flannel shirt and gray T-shirt he wore underneath, and pull the fabric away to reveal his shoulder. It was muscular, tanned, and adorned with an old bite scar.
"From my Mate... my Mary..." Winchester said in a suddenly unforgiving voice, letting the fabric cover his shoulder.
Castiel remained silent, because even though Winchester had grown taller in his eyes by bearing his Mate's bite, he didn't know what to say and didn't think anything needed to be said. And he wasn't wrong.
The other Alpha slipped the knife into his belt and looked just as silently into Castiel's eyes. They measured each other for a moment before Winchester turned away and slowly made his way to the window, but without completely losing sight of Castiel. He created a safe space between them, which his Alpha acknowledged with an approving purr. While Winchester remained a threat, Castiel was much calmer when he was far enough away and not in an attack posture.
The other Alpha stopped and turned so that he had a window behind him and looked at Castiel again.
"Dean is too young to stay here. He's not mature enough to be a mated Omega, though... he probably thinks otherwise."
"I agree," he nodded, slowly making his way to his desk. He moved as non-aggressively as Winchester had earlier. "He's not... mature enough to mate yet, but he's mature enough to decide who he wants to be with."
"Nobody is at sixteen," Winchester snorted.
Castiel leaned back against the table.
"Are you a soldier... da?"
"Yes..." Winchester let his terse reply ring out into the void, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"When did you enlist in the army?"
"At the end of high school. I was seventeen."
"So you weren't much older than Dean is now."
"That's different," the other Alpha replied. "You can't compare serving your country to mating or...maybe just marriage and a romantic relationship. They're not the same!"
"They really aren't?" Castiel asked calmly; there was no need to get upset, he had a plan, and he knew what thoughts he could lead Winchester to. "Someone Dean's age is qualified, in your opinion, to decide to spend ten, fifteen, twenty years as a soldier. He's fit to kill and die, even for noble causes. But he's not fit to decide who he wants to spend his life with?"
Winchester's jaw tensed, his lips pressed together as he clenched his teeth behind them and growled, and a hint of bitterness began to fill the air again, disturbing Castiel's sanctuary. He stifled an angry growl from his Alpha. He knew he had a second Alpha in his grasp.
He turned away as if his next words meant nothing.
"Why do I even ask? According to you Americans, a man can die for his country, but he can't even drink it. How ridiculously absurd."
"Staying with you, Novak, will be like Dean signing up for the Army, only he won't be fighting and dying on the right side. He'll be fighting on the wrong side. With criminals and murderers. What makes you think I'd be okay with that? Put my puppy in danger... send him to jail... for what?"
"Because he's in danger with you too, and he's in danger of prison, but you can never give him what I can. Look around you?" He gestured with his hand. "I will give him a home... a lair to nest in and a large pack of loyal Betas... my Brothers... to protect him. He will never want for anything again. Him or Sam."
"Sam?" Winchester repeated with a hint of surprise that he didn't even wonder about. "Are you suggesting that he stay here with you as well? Why? Why would an Alpha take care of another Alpha's puppy?" He asked, his tone matter-of-fact, but something told Castiel he wasn't as calm as he seemed. He sounded just like he had in the garage when he had offered to buy Dean. It had been a trick then, and apparently it was now. He just wasn't sure what kind.
"I don't have any interest in it, but Dean wants to keep him. And what Dean wants, he gets," he decided to tell the truth. For once, that might be what Winchester wanted to hear.
Whether it was or not, the other Alpha's face remained as stony as his voice.
"I'm not leaving you with one son, let alone both."
"Your choice," he replied with a slight shrug, using the table as support and a point to bounce off, and slowly walked towards the door. "I promised Dean I'd talk to you and then let you go, but..." he grabbed the doorknob and turned to face Winchester, "Dean and Sam are not leaving with you. Not only won't I allow it, they won't want it. By your intransigence, you will lose both your sons and the chance to find and kill your Mate's killer, and all you will gain is the resentment of the Russians. You have wounded one of us and attacked me. That cannot go unrewarded."
"That doesn't scare me. I will not give up my sons, and if you were a father, you would understand that."
"If I were a father, I would do what is best for my children." He dropped the handle and took a step toward Winchester, causing him to raise his head in a warning pose. Then he paused. "They're safer here than with you, and you know it. And you also know that without them your hands are free."
"They're not a liability! They're my puppies!" Winchester bared his teeth.
"I'm sure you believe that, but look at it rationally... You have to keep coming back for them. You have to keep them safe. You have to divide every dollar by three... How many chances have you wasted? How much time have you spent..."
"Enough!" Winchester growled, moving forward.
Castiel crouched and bared his teeth, ready for another attack and fight, but the other Alpha took only a few small steps forward before stopping. He literally froze. His fists clenched and his jaws tensed. They stayed that way for a moment. They watched each other in tense silence before Winchester exhaled sharply and turned away in surprise. This gave Castiel the irresistible opportunity to twist just the way he liked it; surprisingly and from behind. An hour ago, he would have taken it without blinking, but now? He stayed where he was, just slowly straightening up and watching as the other Alpha walked over to the window and leaned his hand against it.
In the reflection, he could see Dean's father's face, dark and tired, a perfect match for the musty smell wafting from him.
Castiel remained silent. He was patient. He let Winchester think. He knew what was on the other Alpha's mind.
He was counting all the times he had to put his puppies before what he would have preferred to do; hunt his Mate's killer. He remembered all the times he had to wash the blood from his hands and the smell of fear from his body before he could return home. Even the times he had to let his sons rest when he could have easily moved on himself.
Suddenly, Winchester inhaled sharply, grunted and slammed his fist against the window. The glass shook, such was the force of the blow. Then he crouched and bowed his head.
Winchester gave up. He surrendered to Castiel. A rush of instinctive, animal satisfaction filled him. There was nothing like seeing a strong opponent like John Winchester finally surrender.
"Well... what's the deal?" The other Alpha uttered wearily and half-voiced in a final gesture of submission.
Under other circumstances, he would have made his superiority known. He fully enjoyed this moment, with his opponent at his feet, and perhaps not only symbolically bringing him down on them, but unfortunately... the sun was already bending towards the west, and if their plans to defeat Alastair and take his territory were to succeed, they would have to start before nightfall. There was no time for the small pleasures of life. As was usually the case when things went wrong around Dean. Good thing Omega could make it up to him in another way.
"Dean cares deeply for your permission. If he doesn't get it, he will never be completely mine. Tell him that you give us your blessing and that you'll allow Sam to stay. Then you will leave here and never come back. That's all I ask."
Winchester turned quickly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"And in return, you'll help me get Alastair?"
"Not only that.I'll hand him to you on a platter," he replied, taking several slow, carefully planned steps forward, right into the middle of the imaginary safe zone that separated them, and raising his hand for a handshake.
"Do we have a deal?"
Winchester said nothing, just took the same cautious step toward Castiel and clasped his hand tightly.
°°0°°
Frowning, he watched the office door from the kitchen counter. He could not hear any loud sounds of struggle from behind it, like shattering glass and cracking furniture. The silence was more disturbing than the sounds of the fight. Somehow he got the impression that Alphas of Cas' and his father's stature shouldn't be in the same room together in complete silence.
"They'll be fine," Sam said, who had just walked up to him.
"Yeah, sure. Or they'll throw each other out the window," he replied ruefully.
"I looked outside. It's only two stories to the roof of the building. The average Alpha can survive a fall like that and probably walk away on his own," the Little Alpha said, probably to calm him down.
It didn't do much good.
Yeah, Alphas were made of damn tough stuff and had incredible stamina with adrenaline and Alpha enzyme coursing through their veins. Then they managed to get out of a totally wrecked car and still make it to the hospital, but... Damn it! It didn't mean they were immortal. And as everyone knew, the greatest danger to an Alpha was, is, and always will be another Alpha.
The door to the study opened, and Castiel and dad emerged as calm as when they'd entered. Damn suspicious. After all, they looked like they'd never been at each other's throats before.
"We have a deal," Castiel said as he walked over to the other side of the kitchen counter and, Dean noticed, leaned against it not only with his hand, but with his hip, "and a plan."
Dean glanced at dad, who was silent, maintaining the usual space that was so important to the Alphas. And he didn't seem to want to say anything, so was it up to him to speak?
"What's the deal and the plan?"
He was interested in both, but maybe the deal was a little more, because it certainly involved him.
"If you both want to stay here when I leave town, you can. The decision is yours," his father answered the first part strangely.
"Both of us?"Sam asked in surprise.
"Yes, pup. Both of you. Alpha Novak," this time, to Dean's surprise, he chose a polite address for Castiel, but the look he gave him was not polite, "offered to take care of both of you until I found Azazel, and I accepted," he paused here for a moment, then walked over to the counter and leaned against it as well, still a safe distance from Case, of course. "If we actually manage to interrogate Alastair and he knows where Azazel is, it's going to be really dangerous. Azazel is a beast and he's coming for Dean. I couldn't take you all the way to him. You'll be safe here in New York."
There was a hint of disapproval from Sam.
"We want to help you. It's about our mom, and we - "
"We'll stay here, Alpha. You don't have to worry about that. And I'll take care of Sam. Like always," Dean interrupted Sam's protest.
It wasn't just that he didn't want to leave Case, not even to catch his mom's killer. And he really liked the idea of dad killing him. This was about Sam. Here in New York, in Castiel's lair, and with Castiel's money and connections, he had the best chance for safety and an education. A normal life, or at least as normal as one could live under the protective wings of a Russian mobster. And that was still a hundred times better than more traveling. Dean and Dad agreed on that.
"I know, son," Dad said much more gently, reaching out to put his hand on the back of Dean's head. Following the familiar weight of his family Alpha's hand, which smelled of freshly bloomed roses, Dean instinctively bowed his head, and his Omega grunted in agreement.
"I can count on you to take care of your brother," Dad added with unusually warm praise, which made Dean feel a little uneasy, so he lifted his eyes to look at his face. Dad wasn't like that. He never wasted praise, and it rarely sounded as... as it did now.
He sucked in air, trying to read more from his father's closeness, but by then the Alpha had moved his hand away and retreated, making it difficult to sniff out the finer nuances.
"Good. Now, the plan," Castiel didn't leave much room for the unusual tension in the air to dissipate."Alastair owns a BDSM club called Hell's Gate. It's a legal and fairly thriving business, with the usual clientele consisting mainly of wealthy Alphas... brokers and businessmen of all kinds. It's a very well-known place in certain circles, but... there's something about Hell's Gate that only a handful of insiders know. There's another place right below it that's much less legal and, shall we say,... friendly," Castiel chose his words carefully, but probably not because he couldn't think of the right English word. "There are no rules in Hell, as the place is known. You can get anything you want for the right price. It's a paradise for sadists, rapists and murderers." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, looking like he was about to light up again. That would be another cigarette in less than an hour. Despite the seriousness of what was being discussed, Dean couldn't help but frown disapprovingly at the cigarette Castiel pulled out.
The Alpha gave him a quick look and then, instead of lighting a cigarette, just put the pack down on the kitchen counter and, fiddling with the cigarette, continued, "It's like a lair for Alastair. His safe place. As soon as he feels threatened, that's where he'll hide. And that's where we can get him."
"Alastair has a lot of power in this city. It won't be easy to corner him," Dad pointed out.
"I'm not saying it will be easy, but... we've been working on plans to defeat him for the past few weeks."
"What plans, exactly?" Dean asked.
Castiel gave him a quick look, while still shoving the cigarette into his mouth and pulling out his lighter, which he quickly lit. He blew out a small cloud of smoke.
"It's a business secret. That's all I can say. You have no choice but to trust me."
"And if it doesn't work?" asked Dad doubtfully.
"There's no room for failure," Castiel replied, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. "I need to make some calls now... Make yourself at home, Alpha Winchester," he added, as Dad could tell from the scowl, teasingly, but really meaning it. Dean knew him well enough.
And then he walked back into his office.
Dean looked at dad.
He stood tense, still watching the office door. He probably didn't feel very relaxed here, and Dean wasn't surprised. Except for Bobby's old house, they'd never been in a stranger's lair together, and everyone was welcome in Bobby's lair, including dad. Bobby might be an Alpha, but he was older than dad, and while he still had his strength, his territorial instincts had diminished, and as far as they were concerned, they were always welcome in his lair.
A quick glance at Sam showed that he was in a similar state to dad, although he seemed a little more at ease. Surprisingly. Even this morning, Dean would have guessed that he'd end up with Cas again, but Sammy was taking it well. He wasn't angry and he was acting... mature. There was no other way to put it.
Anyway, the atmosphere still wasn't calm, and no matter how much he tried to suppress his urges, as an Omega, he just tended to try to find a balance or some shit like that. Yeah, okay, shooting the table probably wasn't a standard way to calm the situation down, but on the other hand, it worked well, so he was actually doing his ''job'' as an Omega. Just a little unusual.
"When was the last time you two ate?" He broke the silence.
Both Alphas gave him a look, which was enough.
"I thought so," he said with a sigh. "Whatever happens, we need to eat. I'll make some sandwiches," he finished and walked around the counter to the fridge.
None of his Alphas ever argued about food. Well, to be exact... none of his Alphas except Case, who didn't care much for food, but Sam and dad never argued.
He dove into the fridge and gradually took out everything he needed for sandwiches, not forgetting the jam from Uliyana that was in the door next to the milk bottle. He would also make some with peanut butter and jelly and maybe some tuna, just for Castiel.
He closed the door and froze.
Dad was standing right behind them.
"Let me help you," he said, taking the bottle of jam from his hand.
Dean raised his eyebrows slightly. Really big help, but then again, what else would you expect from an Alpha? Dad had a lot of good qualities. First of all, he felt safe with him, knowing that the Alpha would protect him, but he was definitely not a cook or someone who could take care of puppies. That had always been Dean's job.
"Thanks," he thanked anyway and took his things to the line.
He grabbed the bread and a large package of peanut butter that was on the next shelf, not far from the canned tuna. He took that as well. They had a supply. Ever since he'd gone shopping, ever since he'd finally realized that he wasn't limited anymore, they'd had enough of everything. A little more than they needed, actually. Because his inner Omega found it stupidly satisfying to see all the shelves in the kitchen and the fridge full of food.
"You've made yourself at home... it seems..." his father said, putting the jar of jam down with the other things.
"I've been here a few weeks now, you know..."
"I know. I just... thought it would be different."
Dean flicked an eye at him.
"You thought Castiel was keeping me here as a prisoner?" He couldn't help the sharp tone that came out of his mouth much more easily than before. "I hate to disappoint you, dad, but this lair isn't a prison to me, it's more like -"
"Home," Dad surprised him by finishing his thought.
He stopped spreading the bread and looked at him.
His expression was unreadable, but his scent spoke for him. Although it didn't speak clearly enough for Dean to understand. He smelled of blooming roses with a hint of damp birch bark. That was how he usually smelled on better days, when he wasn't drinking or busy hunting or sad. But he smelled of sadness too. That was strange. Confusing.
"I don't know... if I'd say it that way, but it's fine here. Safe, comfortable... everything," he replied neutrally.
"Smells a lot like Alpha and Omega's home, Dean. Like a place you expect to find a nest," Dad replied, again strangely sad or something.
Dean went back to making sandwiches instead.
"You know I don't do nesting. I'm just not into that sort of thing." He was talking more to the tomato he was slicing than to dad.
"You should do nesting," Dad pointed out. "You're an Omega, and it's natural for you. I was always worried you'd stop."
He didn't dare look at him directly, but at least he looked out of the corner of his eye. Damn it. What was this all about? He wasn't sure. Dad didn't usually talk like that.
"It's not like today, when you were my age. Omegas aren't expected to nest anymore. They can live like Betas if they want to. You know?" He used an argument that Sam would probably use and that he'd just heard from him.
"Novak says you're a Tru Mate. If you feel the same way, you should want to nest. Nesting, taking care of this lair, having pups... These are your instincts, and instincts are never wasted. Rely on them. If you don't want to nest, then this... all of this... is not right for you. Do you understand me, son?"
He put the last slice of tomato on the ham and reached for the lettuce.
Maybe he could and should tell dad that he was actually already thinking about nesting, since it seemed that whatever deal he'd made with Cas, he'd accepted that Dean was staying. Just saying it out loud would make it too real, and with what was probably about to happen, it wasn't the best time to bring that emotional shit out into the open. But at the same time he felt the urge to calm Alpha down somehow, so he put the leaf on his sandwich and turned to dad:
"Yeah. I understand and I'll keep that in mind."
" Right... okay..." dad nodded, a little distracted, and gave Dean a long look.
Under the force of his gaze, he instinctively lowered his eyes and let his chin drop as well. There was just a force in Alpha's eyes that made him do it, and he was happy to give in because it was Dad. And when he put his hand on the back of his head again, he just let out a relaxed sigh.
"You really have changed. You've grown up... " Dad said, as if to himself, and then, to Dean's surprise, he put his big arm around his back and pulled him into a tight hug. He was so confused by this that he automatically returned the hug, not even putting down a head of lettuce. He squeezed it into dad's jacket, inhaling his comforting and homely Alpha scent that he missed.
"Dean," Castiel's voice interrupted the pleasant moment.
Dad was the first to leave their embrace, taking a half-step back and straightening up in a pose that expressed the common toga of all Alphas, so that the other Alphas would stay away.
Dean sighed inwardly. They hadn't had time for emotional shit, and he had let his Omega drag him down anyway, and now he regretted that the precious moment of safety in the embrace of their Alpha family had been so brief. There was nothing he could do. He put down his salad, turned and took two steps closer to Cas, who was standing behind the counter in the same place as before.
"Yeah, Castiel?"
The Alpha looked over his shoulder, then back to him.
"I've set things in motion. We should have Alastair where we want him sometime in the morning."
"In the morning?" He frowned. He hoped it wouldn't take that long.
"There are some things that can't be rushed."
"Okay...but what do we do until then?"
Castiel looked at the sandwiches he'd split.
"We'll have sandwiches and tea," was his simple answer.
There was an amused chuckle from his father behind Dean's back.
"Just that? Nothing else? We'll have sandwiches and wait till morning?"
"Da. It's called being patient," he replied with his typical condescension.
"You'll understand someday, Dean. It takes time to learn to be patient," Dad chimed in.
"Don't forget to put some cheese in my sandwich," Cas ordered with equanimity, and with equal equanimity, took his seat on the couch.
"I want extra pickles," Dad added to his order and sat down as well.
Dean frowned and shifted his gaze from one Alpha to another and then to a third. Dad and Cas took their seats while Sam pulled up three chairs. One for each of them and one in place of a table. That was it. They just sat there, at least two meters apart, and just stared at each other. Damn Alphas. Every last one of them, he thought as he turned back to the kitchen counter and grabbed some cheese to add a hefty dose to a couple of sandwiches.
Chapter 93
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Don't have another one," Dean said, trying to take Sam's mug of freshly poured coffee.
The little Alpha not only ducked the mug in time, he growled in warning and showed a flash of fangs.
Dean frowned.
It was almost five in the morning and while Cas and his dad had no problem staying awake, they were both more of a night creature, Dean and Sam had been keeping themselves awake with coffee for the last hour or two because going to bed was simply not an option for either of them. Although... Dean was trying hard to get Sammy to take a nap in his future room, at least for a while.
"I'm fine. My Alpha metabolism processes caffeine quickly," Sam replied reasonably, without any growling, and set his mug down on the kitchen counter, but out of Dean's reach. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Have you seen the News lately?"
"The News?" He asked confused; hell, the News? What kind of twelve-year-old asks that at five in the morning? On the other hand, if Sam hadn't been asking those very questions, he wouldn't have been Sam, "No, buddy, I haven't been watching the News. You know, there's old westerns on all night." He nodded his head at the screen.
Dean liked B-horror movies, which his dad despised, but westerns... westerns they had in common. They could both watch them for hours and they made the Alpha relaxed and happy. That was why he let them go. To let his dad rest. And it worked. Whether it had the same effect on Cas, there was no way to tell, but either way, his Alpha didn't complain about the choice of programs, he sat quietly in his seat, drinking tea and beer and eating sandwiches while he smoked and watched the TV from under his squinted lids like a big cat. Dad sat in his chair and did the same thing, including smoking. For the last eight damn hours.
"So check this out." He handed him his phone.
He focused on the small screen where a video was playing. In the foreground was a moderator in a warm coat, holding a microphone in one hand and an umbrella in the other. Behind him was a cordon of policemen in bulletproof vests and helmets holding shields, and behind them were people milling about and a few fires burning.
"One of your parades?" He asked.
The parades for the rights of Omegas and other minorities that Sam had always watched and even wanted to join (Dean wouldn't let him, of course, it was too dangerous. Luckily, they were always miles away from the venue), were always accompanied by demonstrations not only by anti-abortion groups and various pro-traditional family movements, but also by groups like Alphas Forward! that wanted to show Omegas where their God-given and biologically given place was, and weren't afraid to take that place away from Omegas, even by force. Confrontations were inevitable and common. This looked like one of them.
"They are not so much mine as they are yours. It's about your rights. But that doesn't matter now," he waved his hand thoughtfully at another discussion of Omega rights. "This isn't a parade. This is civil unrest. Right now. Right here in New York."
He glanced back at the screen, his eyes searching for the station name on whose website it was being broadcast. It was CBS 2. He handed the phone back to Sam, set down his coffee mug, and walked over to the ruins of the coffee table between the couch and the chair and picked up the remote.
"I'm just going to put something on for a minute. Then I'll turn it back on," he said absently and therefore only half-apologetically, pausing the movie that was currently playing and switching to the television. With a click he was on CBS 2 and the same video flashed on the screen, only in better resolution and a hundred times bigger.
"...despite the bad weather and temperatures in the freezing range, the riots are still going on. As you can see behind me," the reporter turned slightly to move the hand in which he held his umbrella toward the police officers, "Bronx police officers have called in units from other boroughs to help, fearing that the riots could spread further..."
"Hmm... Interesnoye... I didn't think that would go so well," Castiel interrupted the reporter in a thoughtful voice.
Dean turned to him and frowned. What did he mean by that? What was supposed to go well or badly? Surely he couldn't mean... He looked back at the screen where there was no reporter anymore, just footage of a crowd of people smashing cars and trying to get through the bars into carefully closed shops. They were acting like crazy people who'd escaped from a mental institution. The gratuitous violence that just happened from time to time, but it wasn't like anyone, even someone like Castiel, could go out and start a war in the streets. It just wasn't possible. Was it?
"Are you saying this," he waved the remote in the direction of the television, "is your fault? That's not possible..."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Castiel asked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. "It's very easy to start a war between two gangs, and the South Bronx has a long history of hatred between Blacks and Hispanics. All it took was dumping the body of a River Avenue Kings member on the edge of Burnside Blades territory. Retaliation didn't take long. What I didn't believe when we planned it, though, was that the gang fight there could so easily degenerate into massive street violence," Alpha said thoughtfully, taking a drag from his cigarette, and while he looked off into the distance, he continued, still lost in thought, letting the smoke escape between his words. ""We also have a few explosive spots in Moscow, but I can't imagine it would be that easy to detonate them."
Dad growled deeply.
"We were going to get Alastair. I thought your people would bring him in, not start a street war. Why the hell would you order something like that?" Dad asked, oddly not the least bit surprised that Castiel would have the means to do something as... big as maybe hundreds of people in the streets destroying anything that could be smashed with a bat or shot with a gun. Dean found it unbelievable and a little frightening. And perversely amazing.
He looked at Castiel, his Alpha, sprawled comfortably on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, holding a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, and he was... he was damn great and calm at the same time. Like he was proud of what he had done, but at the same time he didn't care, because it was part of his life. And it was perversely sexy. Dean's Omega purred with excitement. This powerful Alpha, who literally ruled the city, was all his. It belonged to him and with it everything in this damn town. And this time, it wasn't just conviction. Cas may not have owned every single building and street, but he had enough influence to make the people in the city do what he wanted. And it was as if he really owned everything in the city.
"A distraction," Castiel answered his father's question, snapping Dean out of his stunned stare. And he shoveled the ashes into the ashtray at his side. "We had to attack Alastair's organization on multiple fronts and in multiple locations. The violent conflicts between gangs from all over the city will effectively keep the police busy and distracted and intimidate Alastair's political allies. And it will cause problems for Alastair himself, as it directly threatens his territory. His people are mostly hired mercenaries, and they won't risk their lives fighting us, let alone a street mob."
"Surely it could have been done differently. Do you know how many civilians will be wounded or even killed?" Dad asked pointedly...to which Dean agreed.
What Castiel had done meant not only a lot of damage, but maybe some deaths. And maybe some dead who weren't criminals.
"Acceptable casualties...after all, the territory they're fighting in doesn't belong to the Russians, nor do any of our people live there, so I don't care what happens to them. They're not my problem," Castiel said with the contemptuous indifference Dean had seen in him before, taking a drag from his cigarette and looking from one to the other. "Chto? You expected something else? Blood will flow and they'll be dead, because this isn't child's play. This is a gang war. We'll do anything to achieve our goals. I thought you could understand that, Alpha Winchester..." He let out a small question mark at the end and looked defiantly at dad.
"Yes, but I don't involve innocent civilians in my... business."
"Well... I'm not you... as is obvious," he added, taking a drag from his cigarette and then spreading his arms slightly as he gestured around him.
Alphas could never forgive themselves for a competition to see who could pee the farthest.
"Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't have given up old habits," he said, and when they both turned to him, he raised a provocative eyebrow and met their eyes alternately. "You know the ones I mean... the ones where the Alphas just took their pants off and compared their dicks and knots. All disputes were so easily resolved," he added, tossing the remote back onto the sofa, picking up three empty bottles from the table and turning around.
His dramatic exit, accompanied by a frozen silence, was violently interrupted by the blaring of Russian rock music. Oh, damn it!" he sighed inwardly, half turning to watch as Cas reached into his pocket for his phone.
"Da?" He announced into the phone.
Dean pinched his ear so he could hear hints of rough, Russian gibberish coming from the phone's earpiece.
"Khoroshiy," Castiel agreed, hanging up the phone.
The silence that followed could have been cut short. Everyone fixed Castiel with questioning glances, even Sam had overcome the imaginary zone of discretion he'd built around himself and returned from the kitchen to the living area.
Castiel took his time. First he took a drag from his shortened cigarette, then he put it out, and finally he looked up at them.
"My men have Alastair. They found him in Hell, as I expected. They'll take care of him before we get there."
"So what are we waiting for?" Dad asked the rhetorical question because he was already getting up. "Dean will take care of Sam and we've got work to do."
"I'm coming with you," Dean refused to stay.
"Me too," Sam joined in.
"No, you're not. You stay," he disagreed forcefully, backing up his words by pointing firmly in Sam's direction. "You're still a puppy. It's too dangerous for you."
"I want to go. I'm not afraid," Sam argued, obviously determined to go along.
Dean wasn't going to let that happen. It wasn't that he didn't think the Alpha's men could handle the situation, and Sammy would be in real danger there, but he didn't want the little Alpha to witness... anything. The less he knew about Castiel's business, the safer it was. Alpha was definitely right. If Sam didn't know anything, he wouldn't be able to tell the police or anyone else.
"None of you are going. It's not for you," Dad interjected into their incipient argument with a commanding voice that sent Dean's instincts reeling in unconscious agreement with Alpha's will.
He suppressed the feeling - it was much easier than it had ever been before - and stepped forward.
"This isn't just about mom. Alastair owes me something. He broke into our room... into my nest... and threatened Sam. I want to see his head at my feet," he said, a little exaggerated, because no, Winchester, you are not a theatrical Omega superstar.
Dad straightened to his full height and strode forward in a manner that heralded that the next order would be far more emphatic and full of Alpha dominance than the last. Dean did the same, ready to face him, when suddenly there was Castiel's voice:
"Dean is coming with us. He has a right to settle with Alastair."
He was grateful to Cas for standing up for him, but he didn't need to. He'd been able to fight his way out on his own, even against his father, because this time something was really at stake.
"If Dean goes with us, Sam has to go too, because he can't stay here alone," Dad said.
"I can wait in the car..." Sam suggested.
"And my men will keep an eye on him," Castiel added, which, oddly enough, Dad didn't object to, instead looking at Sam with a frown.
"Are you sure you want to go?" Dad asked, probably the first time he'd ever asked Sammy's opinion on anything important. It was a surprise not only for the little Alpha, but for Dean as well.
"Absolutely!" Sam declared firmly, after only a short moment of surprised hesitation.
"Do you have a gun? Loaded and cleaned?"
"Got it." Nodding, Sam reached under his shirt and pulled out the gun he'd prepared that afternoon when they'd planned to go find his dad.
Dad just nodded and turned to Dean with a silent question.
"I'm ready too," he replied, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the gun at his waist.
"There are cars waiting for us downstairs. I'm sure you know which ones, Alpha Winchester," Cas spoke to his father. "Dean and Sam will come with me. You can follow in your car."
Dad nodded in agreement. The decision had been made and although he wasn't too sure about dad's decision to let Sam go with them, he didn't say anything in protest. After all, his two Alphas had agreed to it, so he had to trust them.
"Come on, Dean," Cas urged him, extending his arm in a familiar gesture.
Taking a step toward him, the Alpha put his arm around his shoulders - much to his father's obvious disapproval - and together they made their way to the door.
°°0°°
He looked for Castiel out of the corner of his eye. He was sitting stiffly, his elbow on the doorjamb, his other arm discreetly wrapped around his stomach. He seemed to stare out the window impassively, his face expressionless, but Dean could see the tension at the corners of his lips and jaw, and most importantly, hear his heavy breathing.
His Alpha was injured, and of course, as an Omega, he wanted to do something to help him, but he knew there was basically nothing he could do. Sure, he could at least grab his hand, but with Sam sitting at the other window, that wasn't the best idea. Castiel certainly didn't want to look weak or hold hands in front of anyone. So all he could do was slide across the leather upholstery to Alpha and let their knees meet.
Castiel immediately turned his head to him.
Dean gave him a small smile.
Alpha didn't return it, but his eyelids dropped and the tension in his face eased a little.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," Castiel broke the silence that had lasted since they had left the apartment and gotten into the car.
Dean just nodded and looked out the window.
They were driving between the old buildings. That was a bit surprising. For some reason he had the feeling that a place like a Kink club should be somewhere on the outskirts of the city. Somewhere where you couldn't see much. Not that he'd given it much thought. He wasn't interested in that sort of thing, and being chained up scared the shit out of him, it was just... he was just thinking, and SoHo or wherever they were was just too... well, normal or something.
The Mercedes slid to the curb and started to stop. Apparently, they were there. He turned his head to look through the other window across the street. He hadn't seen anything that looked like this kind of club on the way here or now. He could still see closed galleries, bars and restaurants, some of the usual shops, lots of facades of old apartment buildings, but... what was he really looking for? A big sign with an anal plug or handcuffs, probably not.
"Is it really around here?" He asked doubtfully as the car stopped.
Castiel gave him a look that made him automatically lower his eyes. Yeah, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do right now, questioning the Alpha's abilities.
"Da. It's here. I've been here before," Castiel answered him anyway, and without anything else, especially without explaining what the hell he was doing in Alastair's Kink club, he just got out of the car.
Dean gave him a quick look before turning to Sam.
"Stay here and don't get out of the car under any circumstances. And if anything goes wrong, just run. Okay?"
"Okay," the little Alpha nodded all too willingly.
He measured him with a long look. Unfortunately, he had nothing to back up his assumption that Sammy was lying and would be willing to put himself in danger, so he had no choice but to go after Cas.
He slammed the car door behind him and was about to tell Golem to keep an eye on Sammy when the lock clicked behind him, trapping Sam in the car. Golem was obviously one step ahead of him. At least that worry was off Dean's mind thanks to him, and he could concentrate on what was going on around him.
At six in the morning, the street was empty, if it had ever been empty here. Probably not, there were too many places open late for that. It certainly wasn't a crowd to get lost in, if anyone with the Alpha aura that Cas and Dad had, accompanied by a total of four tough-looking Betas, could get lost.
Castiel went to the door of one of the houses. At first glance, it looked the same as the others, though it had newer plaster than its neighbors. And then, of course, there were the blinds. They were all drawn. It wouldn't have been strange at night, but it wasn't night anymore. It was morning. People were getting up for work, going for a run before the traffic got heavy, getting bread for the bakery... Apart from this, no other house had all its windows darkened.
He glanced at his dad, who walked by his side, and he could tell by the look Alpha gave him that he'd noticed it, too.
Castiel pressed the doorbell. There was only one button for the whole house. That was strange.
There was a noise behind the door as someone approached, a moment later the lock clicked, then the door opened and Kot stood inside. He gave Castiel a silent but polite nod before looking over his shoulder at Dean and his dad, then gave Castiel a quick, questioning look before stepping back and letting him in.
Dean followed right behind his Alpha, while Dad and Jacob and Vadim completed their little procession. The other two Betas he didn't know - a short-haired blond with a tattoo of some kind of flower on his neck and an equally short and stocky fifty-year-old with graying hair - remained outside.
The first thing Dean's eyes fell on was a dead body with a bloody plastic bag over its head that someone had placed against the wall of the wide corridor, and the very next thing was the reception desk located under the stairs. It was made of wood with a counter made of black glass, and although it was rather modern, it matched the overall old-looking interior. It reminded him a bit of the movie The Great Gatsby. Especially the floor made of marble blocks arranged in some kind of pattern and the golden banister on the stairs.
Castiel didn't linger and went straight to the reception desk. He didn't even turn his head as they passed the open double doors. Dean, on the other hand, looked through them. There was a bar, and he also saw dark brown wooden tables and chairs, some light purple and blue sofas, decorations in the form of feather fans, and paintings that looked like old Japanese or Chinese drawings. And there were people. Eight of them, six women and two men. They were sitting on the floor, leaning against the bar, their hands and feet bound, gags stuffed in their mouths, and blindfolds or sleeping masks over their eyes. And they were... well, they were dressed for work, as Dean would probably say. In corsets, leather outfits, one in a kimono, another in a pantsuit without a blouse for a change. Most of them were buxom, Alphas or Betas at first glance, but the one in the kimono was petite. She almost looked like an Omega.
Dean stopped and took in some air.
He smelled an eclectic mix of many people's scents. Arousal and sex, of course, and a lot more Alpha scents than he'd expected, and no Omega scents at all, except for one strong one. The scent of rose hip tea, soothing and with a pleasant sweet Omega smell, plus the smell of ink and of course the sour smell of fear.
It was pervasive.Anyway, the little woman in the kimono was Omega.
A bound, frightened and defenseless Omega.
It stirred his instincts. He even took half a step towards the door, but stopped. It wasn't his problem to begin with. It was Cas's 'job' and it was healthier to stay away from it and besides... all those people had their eyes covered. Alpha's men wouldn't bother with blindfolds if the plan was to kill these people. They'd do it right away, like they did with the guy behind the door.
He took one last long look at the kimono-clad Omega before he turned and ran quickly to the reception desk. Castiel had already walked past him while dad stood with his back to the wall and Kot pulled back the light blue curtain that covered the wall under the stairs. This revealed a metal door with a large handle that looked very much like a vault door.
"He's downstairs," Castiel turned to them, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tube of scent limiter.
"I recommend you use this. I've been down there before and it doesn't smell the best," he pointed out as he opened the tube. He squeezed the pungent minty smelling gel onto his fingers and while he spread it over his upper lip, he handed the tube to Dean.
Technically, of course, he knew what it was and how to use it. Usually it was a mixture of strong smelling herbs like eucalyptus or mint and the same substances that were in Blockers and neutralized pheromone molecules. If you didn't rub it under your nose, you could smell almost nothing but the scent of the limiter. It wasn't very popular. Dean never used it. He didn't see the point. In fact, he never even held it.
He couldn't imagine losing his sense of smell. Scents might have been a pain in the ass, but not having a sense of smell? That would be like losing an arm or something.
He took a quick look at Kot's stony expression and even glanced back at the men who were still standing at the front door. Yeah, this was definitely the kind of situation where he had to play the obedient Omega and do whatever his Alpha told him.
So he took a sniff of the tube.
It was like getting punched in the nose. It made everything in his nose and throat tighten up. He definitely didn't want to use it, but he bravely squeezed some on his finger and rubbed it under his nose and around his nostrils, just in case. The mint filled his nose and mouth. It was as if he was stuffing it up his nostrils and chewing it at the same time.
"Ugh! Disgusting..." he grunted in disgust, spitting the saliva that had collected in his mouth onto the floor.
"Breathe shallowly. You'll get used to it," his dad told him, reaching for the tube in surprise.
Dean didn't resist handing it to him. The sooner he was gone the better, but he was surprised that his dad had used a Limiter.
"We're good to go," Dad said, handing the tube back to Castiel.
He didn't answer, just nodded to Kot, who turned the handle on his command and pulled the door open.As the door moved for the first time, it made the peeling sound characteristic of a thing with a vacuum.
The door was airtight, as if Alastair didn't want the guests of his establishment to sniff anything out. What Alastair wanted to hide, he understood at the first gust of air that came from the area behind the door, where a narrow and steep staircase led down. The smell that permeated the mint was sickening. It was suffering, pain, and fear, but it was also the unmistakable smell of Omega juices and heat. A fucking terrifying combination. These emotions just weren't meant to be in the same place. Something damned terrible must be going on down there.
Kot was the first to enter the stairs, and it seemed as if he hadn't noticed the smell coming from below - and it must have been much stronger than Dean had sensed, as the mint had confused his olfactory cells. Maybe he didn't because he was a Beta, or maybe he just didn't care.
Castiel went next, of course, and Dean followed after a quick glance at dad.
The stairwell was well lit, both by the overhead lights and the strip of light just above the stairs, and a metal railing ran along the wall. Dean decided not to touch it. In fact, he was determined not to touch anything in the white hallway he could see over Castiel and Kot's heads. He had an instinctive aversion to it, and his Omega stood ready and watchful, reminding Dean uncomfortably of Sun Hill once again.
Finally, they were down. The mixture of smells was even stronger here than upstairs, but at the same time they could hear the air conditioner, smell the ozone and the disinfectant. It smelled oddly clean, which was enhanced by the fact that the hallway they were in had a floor of light brown tiles and the walls, including twenty doors, ten on each side, were painted off-white. The only thing that broke the uniform color of the walls were the small, barred windows that looked into the rooms beyond the doors, and the black numbers that hung above them.
He passed two of the doors before his curiosity got the better of him and he cautiously approached the third.Dad was obviously just as curious, because he stood by his side and they looked inside together.
The room behind the door was completely tiled, like the common showers at school, even the drain on the floor could be seen on the back wall with what looked like a rolled up hose. He could imagine washing meat in something like that in a slaughterhouse, including the fact that there was a hook hanging from the ceiling. Only the tiles weren't white, they were red and black.
He frowned.
"I guess I don't want to know what it's for."
"Neither do I, son," dad nodded before placing a reassuring hand on the back of his head. "Let's go. Alastair's waiting."
Dean said nothing. He and dad continued down the hallway until they reached Castiel, who was waiting at the bend in the hallway. When they were close enough, he looked away from them and turned the corner. Dean followed right behind him, so he could still see Pyotr waiting by one of the doors, taking a last drag from his cigarette, the smell of which added to the other smells in this hallway, stubbing it out against the wall, and shoving the butt into his pocket.
"Pyotr..." Castiel greeted him warmly, clasping his hand and placing the other on his shoulder, "Kak my spravilis'?"
"My poluchili to, chto khoteli. My pokazali, chto russkiye ni k komu ne otnosyatsya dobrozhelatel'no. No my poteryali dvukh chelovek."
"Kogo?" Cas asked, and even though he couldn't really smell him, he could tell that he was worried. It was in the way he tilted his head to the side and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"Nikon Nikonovich and Alexei Pavlovich."
Pyotr mentioned Ginger's name and then another that Dean didn't recognize at all. He got the impression from the burly Beta's tone that nothing good had happened and that Nikon was somehow connected. When Castiel finally let go of Pyotr's hand, but only to cross himself, Dean was pretty sure it wasn't good news.
"Pust' Gospod' dast im pokoy v mire..." Alpha said in a kind of respectful tone, reaching behind his open shirt where he pulled out a cross and kissed it.
"...na veki vechnyye," Pyotr added and did the same.
Now he was damn sure it was bad news, and he had an idea what it was. Fuck! This was so... He didn't really know Nikon that well. He wasn't as friendly as Vadim, but he was cool. The thought of him being dead tightened his stomach with a cold grip. It was a fear he understood. The fact that Nikon was dead was proof that the danger was real. The strange thing was that he also felt something like sadness, or rather a strange feeling at the thought that Ginger would never pick him up from school again. It was strange, but he felt sorry for it. Was it like that every time someone you knew died? Dean didn't know, no one he knew had ever died.
"A chto s Alasterom?" Castiel asked the guy they were here for.
"On tam. My prigotovili yego dlya vas." He jerked his thumb behind him.
"Spasibo," Cas thanked him, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "I'll take care of Alastair now. Go and make sure no one disturbs us," he said, this time in English.
"Sure thing, boss," Pyotr nodded politely, also in English, and when Castiel made way for him, he left. On his way, he nodded to Dean once more and gave his dad a long look, which dad returned with the typical look of all Alphas.
Dean gave the hulking Beta a quick look, frowning a little. It hadn't been that long since he'd seen him, but somehow he seemed thinner and paler. He seemed to have lost some of his bearish appearance and uncle-like manner and demeanor.
"We can't stay here more than a few hours," Castiel said, getting Dean's attention. "If you want answers quickly, we should make the most of the time. Otherwise, we have a place to take Alastair."
"Yeah, I bet you do," Dad nodded, and while it might have been a little sarcastic, it sounded more serious. "I'll go from here on my own," Dad turned to him. "Wait here or come back up."
He frowned disapprovingly.
"I didn't come all the way up here to go back again. I want to and can help you with his interrogation."
"Alastair won't tell us anything for nothing, and we won't try to make a deal with him. We intend to get answers out of him by any means necessary. Are you willing to intentionally... hurt someone?" Castiel asked, choosing his words carefully, as if afraid to use the one word that still hung in the air. Maybe he didn't want to say it in front of dad, maybe he wanted to protect Dean. The latter was certainly not necessary.
"I don't want to torture him with you. It's clear to me that you can handle this on your own, and better than I can," he replied calmly, causing Case to give a small, hidden smile that lifted the corners of his eyes and Dad to frown again. "But I'm an Omega, and Omegas are good at one thing; we can inspire trust. You will be the bad cops," he pointed his index fingers at them, "and I," he pointed his thumb at himself, "will be the good cop. Maybe Alastair will think I'm on his side, and if he won't say anything to you, he'll say something to me."
Castiel's expression melted like ice in the sun. All those hard lines, cold eyes and tight lips warmed and his lips lifted in an amused smile, a golden fang flashing through it. After all the shit that had happened in the last few hours, that smile was like a balm that warmed him up inside and made his Omega purr contentedly. Which was why he didn't flinch when the Alpha cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips to his in a quick kiss that tasted of mint, cogarettes and the ironic aftertaste of blood from Cas's busted lip.
"Ty sladko kovarn, lyubov' moya," the Alpha growled, something he didn't understand of course, but it sounded like praise. His Alpha was praising him and Dean puffed with pride.
"That won't work."
Dad's voice broke the moment uncomfortably. Dean jerked away from Cas' touch and the pride was quickly replaced by shame and a feeling of insecurity. He was kissing Cas literally a few feet away from his dad.
This wasn't the best idea.
Even though dad had given them his blessing, as the Alpha called it, Dean wasn't stupid enough to think he was really okay with it. He knew dad too well, and he knew he wouldn't change his mind that easily. Castiel must have said something to make him agree. But consent was not acceptance. So it was wiser, for everyone's sake, to hold back a bit when it came to... well, anything between him and Cas.
It wouldn't do anyone any good to have those two Alpha idiots at each other's throats again.
"Alastair is too smart and ruthless for this plan to work on him. He'd have to be beside himself. Then maybe he'd believe Dean," Dad said, not only without even a hint of what he had just seen, but he didn't even growl or make a face. He just seemed to pretend that he hadn't seen anything.
"Then it's our job to break him completely," Cas replied.
By this time, dad had clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow in a disapproving frown, his gaze fixed on Castiel's eyes in a silent battle of wills. Dean flicked his gaze between the Alphas, curious to see who would win. He was determined to see Alastair anyway, and if not to play the sympathetic Omega, then to knock the bastard's teeth out. Because he wasn't afraid of him anymore. Not even a hint of it. A lot of time had passed since he had burst into their motel room, and Dean had been through a lot. And in light of what had happened to him, Alastair suddenly didn't look so scary anymore. Especially when he was locked in there.
It was Dad who broke eye contact first.
Castiel's lips lifted in a small, winning smile that widened a little as his father reached for the large door handle and turned it slowly.
The metal squeaked, the locks clicked, and the door opened with a creak.
Notes:
Kak my spravilis'? - How did we do?
My poluchili to, chto khoteli. My pokazali, chto russkiye ni k komu ne otnosyatsya dobrozhelatel'no. No my poteryali dvukh chelovek. - We got what we wanted. We showed that the Russians don't treat anyone kindly. But we lost two people.
Kogo? - Whom?
Pust' Gospod' dast im pokoy v mire... - May the Lord give them rest in peace...
...na veki vechnyye - ...forever and ever
A chto s Alasterom? - What about Alastair?
On tam. My prigotovili yego dlya vas. - He's there. We've prepared him for you.
Spasibo - Thank youTy sladko kovarn, lyubov' moya - You are sweetly cunning, my love
Chapter 94
Notes:
Hello my loyal readers
Sorry for the long break, but the last two months have been really hard for me. At the end of November, they found a shadow on my mother's MRI that could have been another metastasis. Because it was the end of the year, they didn't schedule her for a contrast MRI until the first week of January. Fortunately, it turned out to be just a new, small deposit of MS, but December was very emotionally draining for me.
But now I'm back to writing with renewed vigor! Hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things soon. I have so much on my mind that I want to tell you in a story.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He watched the blood drip from Alastair's skinny fingers into a small pool on the floor. It made a sound similar to a dripping tap, matched by the whistle of a knife sliding across the grindstone. The air was filled with the smell of blood and the heavy, musky scent of two of Dean's kindred Alphas. He couldn't quite describe the smell. It was something he hadn't smelled before, and rationally he knew he should feel scared - after all, the Alphas had tortured someone here, and that in itself was terrifying - but he hadn't. It was more of a comforting scent. Not homey. Not exciting. It was strong and reassured his Omega that he was safe, protected by two strong Alphas.
Hmm... it was strange that he could smell it at all. The scent limiter must have worn off. Despite that, he didn't feel the suffering of the prisoners being held in this slave dungeon. It was all overlaid with the scent of his Alphas and the smell of Alastair's blood and burnt flesh, and since he didn't pity him, he didn't particularly loathe it either. Also, the cell was probably airtight, so none of the outside smells got in.
"Start answering and we'll end this," Dad said, snapping Dean out of his reverie and drawing his attention first to himself and then to the addressed Beta.
Alastair was no longer standing. It was bad enough the man had both shins broken by the basketball bat and his fingers smashed by the hammer. He was hanging in handcuffs that bound his hands and a second set of handcuffs wrapped around his knees, keeping him relatively upright. The right half of his abdomen was decorated with discolouring bruises from his father's fists and the left half was burnt into cigarettes and taser and decorated with a web of thin cuts. Apparently Cas didn't have a penchant for hard beatings like Dad, but rather methods a little more... sophisticated. Is that what it was called? Yeah, I guess so. At least it sounded right in Dean's head, and the word fit Castiel nicely.
Alastair slowly tilted his head to the side and looked at dad.
"Why? We've only just started..." he said so damn calmly.
Den was pretty sure that most people would say what they didn't know at this point and beg for mercy, but not Alastair. He was a fucking madman who didn't seem to feel any pain or fear. And even though his voice was hoarse from dehydration, he still had his wits about him and his tone was still mocking. And those eyes... those dead gray eyes, when they turned to Dean now, were still cold and calm.
"Will it be the pet's turn?" He asked, and a shiver ran down Dean's spine at the sound of his voice.
This was the best time to leave. First of all, he wanted to give the impression that he couldn't stand the torture anymore, but mostly... he wanted to be as far away from this crazy bastard as possible.
"Gotta get some air," he mumbled into the ground, looking down at his own boots, and before any of the Alphas could ask a question, he quickly ran out into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.
He inhaled and his nose was instantly filled with a horrible stench that literally pinned him to the ground and lifted his lips in a snarl that showed his teeth. Everything around him smelled of fear, hopelessness, pain, and suffering. And argument. They were the smells coming from the now open cells. They mixed, overflowed, choked him, and floated in the air almost like fog. Oh, shit! He should have kept the smell limiter. This was really hard to take.
All he could do was pull the hem of his shirt over his mouth and head quickly down the hall to the stairwell. He hoped there would be more fresh air. He could wait there while his Alphas searched for him, and when they came for him, it would be his turn. He wasn't looking forward to being alone with Alastair and having to feign pity, but what the hell wouldn't he do for dad and mom.
He walked quickly down the corridor, breathing through his shirt, which smelled of detergent and vaguely of his own scent, but his head was like cherries baked in warm, crisp pie dough and mixed with sweet honey. Cas's soothing scent. Damn perfect.
He walked past one of the open cells when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pyotr and Kot standing by a strange hospital bed, or whatever it was. A naked woman was lying on the bed. Her unhealthily pale and thin body contrasted with the black straps that bound her.
He stopped and took a step back. And looked into the cell.
The cell was surprisingly large and decorated like a dungeon from the movies, which was frankly ridiculous. He could probably somehow understand why someone would like leather and latex outfits, but what the hell was exciting about an old dungeon? Nothing at all.
He tore his eyes away from the false vault on the ceiling and took a step into the room, his gaze fixed on the woman whose face was largely obscured by more leather straps and blonde hair plastered together with blood and probably dirt. She looked somehow familiar, but he couldn't place her. Maybe if he saw her without the straps...?
"What are you doing here, boy?" The burly Beta asked, having just blocked his direct view of the prone woman.
Dean glanced over his shoulder and frowned. She did look familiar.
"Nothing... just coming up for air..." he replied vaguely, sucking in air.
It wasn't the best idea. The smell in here wasn't any better than outside, and there was Pyotr's strong scent to add to it, but otherwise he caught something needle-like. Something he knew...
"Shit! Meg!" He shouted in sudden clarity.
"So you know her?" Pyotr asked.
"Sure," he nodded as he quickly walked around him and over to the chained beta. "She's like Alastair's right hand, or maybe a bodyguard. I'm not sure. I met her in the Gardens..." he let the sound fade away as he stood over the naked Beta.
Meg opened her previously closed eyes and turned them towards him. There was nothing she could do. One leather strap was across her forehead, where she had a swollen, festering gash, and the other was in her mouth. The rough skin was gnawing at the corners and her lips were bloodied. And the way her eyes were sunken and her skin was dry, it was clear she needed water.
"Do you have anything to drink?" He asked and started to undo the strap in Meg's mouth.
It was Kot who got to him first, grabbing his wrist and squeezing so hard that the bones in his arm rubbed together uncomfortably.
"What do you think you're doing?" Pyotr asked, not the muscular Beta with the dagger on his chest.
"I want to take it off and give her something to drink. She's dehydrated. Can't you see that?" He nodded to the woman, who followed their conversation closely, her eyes darting from one to the other.
Pyotr walked over to him, and for who knows why, he looked smirking.
"I see. You're an Omega and you feel sorry for her, but..."
"I don't feel sorry for her," he cut her off before she could get into some shit about how Omegas were supposed to be sensitive and eager to take care of every kicked puppy. He didn't give a shit what happened to Meg. He didn't like her and he didn't feel sorry for her. In fact, if he found her dead body here, it would make his Omega happy, because despite the situation Beta was in, he still felt a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness at the memory of her curled up in front of his Alpha. Still...
"I just want to keep her alive so we can interrogate her. It's hard to get information from a corpse." He raised his eyebrows considerably and looked from one Beta to the other.
"Dayte yey vypit," Pyotr turned to Kot.
The grip around Dean's arm loosened immediately and the muscular Beta left the room without another look at Dean or Meg. Dean hoped he had gone for water. Anyway, when he reached for the leather strap in Meg's mouth again, Pyotr didn't stop him. He undid the buckle and pulled the leather from his cracked lips with an unpleasant chewing sound.
It was clear from the torn skin at the corners of her mouth, and also from the slow way the Beta woman closed her mouth, that she had been gagged for hours, maybe even days, so it was no wonder her voice sounded hoarse and shaky when she spoke.
"Hot guy's boyfriend..." she mumbled, saliva mixed with blood dripping from the corners of her mouth. It must have hurt like hell, but the Beta smiled, revealing the fact that she didn't have two bottom teeth. Someone had pulled them out. Her gums were swollen and red.
In a way, he felt sorry for her. No one should end up like that. But he didn't feel sorry enough to really empathize with her situation and make his Omega feel the desire to protect her. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that he saw Meg more as competition, no matter how stupid it was.
"The last time I saw you, you and Alastair were arm in arm. You must have screwed up big time to get to this point, sweetheart," he pointed out, his eyes meaningfully sweeping over her bound body as he unfastened the strap that held her head to the table. She would have to lift herself up at least a little if she wanted to drink.
Just then, Kot returned with a tiny bottle of water, the kind they used to keep in those tiny refrigerators in expensive hotel rooms. Barely two sips, but just enough for someone who probably hadn't had a drop in her mouth in the last few hours.
He didn't ask any questions, just took the bottle from Kota, opened it and brought it to Meg's lips while he slid his hand into her greasy, blood-stained hair and lifted her head so she could swallow.
The Beta female must have had her share of experiences, because she drank in small, shallow sips, and in fact he leaned away from the bottle at that point, allowing some of the water to splash onto her face and wash away some of the blood and dirt.
Meg coughed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, fixing them on Dean and smiling again.
"We just had a little... disagreement," she answered Dean's previous half-asked question, and although her voice was raspy, it sounded much clearer than before. "Where...is he?"
"Alastair?" he asked; Meg nodded slightly. "Just down the hall here."
"Dead?"
"No, but he'll be soon," he answered that question as well - much to her satisfaction, reflected on her face like another smile - because he didn't think he was telling Meg anything she shouldn't know. He didn't think Castiel would let her live.
"Why is he still alive?" she asked again.
"You have too many questions, devochka. We're not here to answer, we're here to ask," Pyotr interjected, walking over to Meg's head and placing a hand on her neck.
Dean had never noticed that Pyotr actually had large hands and long fingers. Maybe it was because they were so thick that his rings and bracelets cut into them. At least he used to. Now his hands were much thinner and so big that he could easily grip Megi's neck with them.
"Why did Alastair put you in here?" The burly Beta asked coldly.
"I know his secret," Meg answered.
"What secret?" It was Dean's turn to ask.
The Beta woman pursed her lips in a smile that told the person herself that she intended to remain silent.
Pyotr's fingers tightened around her throat.
"What is Alastair's secret?" Pyotr asked.
Meg remained silent. Pyotr gripped her even tighter.
"What secret?!" The burly Russian asked for the second time, his voice thickening in a way Dean had never heard it before, while his rough accent asserted itself. It sounded quite scary, to be honest. If he didn't know that Pyotr was usually a big, friendly uncle, he would probably be scared, too. But he clearly realized that just as his Alpha wasn't just a big, friendly cat who literally purred in his arms, Pyotr wasn't just a friendly uncle either, he was a Bratva.
"You'd better answer him or he'll kill you," he turned to Meg, not even trying to pretend to be serious. He believed that Pyotr would be able to kill her.
"Mary... Winchester..." the Beta forced out through the throat clenched by Pyotr's fingers.
What the hell...! Had she just said her mother's name! Could she have known something about Azazel and if so, what?
"What did you say?"
He needed to be sure he could hear her clearly if she answered, so he leaned in close. That must have been a signal to Pyotr that she had said something really interesting, because he let her go. Meg took a deep breath.
"What do you know about my mother?"
The Beta licked her lips.
"I know... who killed her."
Dean frowned. Now he also knew who killed his mom, or rather what the guy looked like and called himself these days. Perhaps Meg knew his real name. That could help them find him. The thought made his heart race with excitement. They might not even have to mumble answers from Alastair, which was proving to be impossible. Maybe Meg would give them them, and with much less resistance.
The important thing was that he didn't show how much he wanted the answers. Then maybe she would give them to him without wanting more than her own life in return. Yes, he could offer her that. That he would set her free. It would probably take some persuasion, but maybe he could convince Cas to let her go.
He suppressed his excitement, straightened his face into an expression of indifference, and straightened again as if he had no interest in answering.
"Really? And who was that?" He said casually.
The corners of Meg's lips twitched in a smile and amusement flashed in her eyes. Dean clenched his jaw. She wasn't buying it. Damn it! She knew the answer was important to him.
"Alasrair's old friend. Azazel," she replied, as if she were telling him some big secret.
Suddenly his disinterest wasn't so much feigned as genuine. Yes, she knew what the bastard called himself, and she knew that he and Alastair were friends, but probably nothing more than that, because she presented it to him as if it were a valuable secret. More like a waste of his time. Besides, she made him stay in this stinking dungeon instead of going upstairs to breathe the honest air and prepare for his conversation with Alastair.
And finally, if she knew anything, he might as well leave her in the hands of Castiel's men. They would get it out of her.
"I know his name. If you have nothing else to say, I'm wasting my time with you," he said before turning on his heel and heading for the door.
"I know more!" Her hoarse scream reached him.
He turned in disbelief.
"What more?"
"I'll tell you... for a price. I want to live..."
Her request didn't surprise him. The question was whether he should trust her to know more than a name.
"That's not for me to decide," he insisted, partly because it was true and mostly because he couldn't say anything else in front of Castiel's men. "Tell me what you know, and if I want, I'll try to put in a good word for you. That's all I can promise you."
"Then I won't say anything," Meg replied, and Dean could have sworn she sounded triumphant.
He frowned.
"Fine. Your choice," he snapped. If she thought she could manipulate him with that, she was damn wrong. If she really knew something, she'd say it, for better or worse.
He had originally planned to go upstairs, at least for a while, and wanted to go back to his plan, but when he came out into the hallway, he saw Cas and dad standing at the door of Alastair's cell, talking about something. Well, Alphas like those two couldn't have a normal conversation without posing and possibly risking getting on each other's nerves. Again. Dean couldn't risk that, especially when he noticed his Alpha leaning against the wall. He did it subtly so that his hand was wedged between his back and the wall, but Dean noticed and also saw his knee buckle. Remembering what Cas looked like, and considering how long he'd been off his meds, and all the things he'd done back there in that cell... it was a damn miracle he was still standing at all. Or rather, the damned Alpha's stubbornness.
He exhaled slowly, inhaling through his mouth to avoid some of the smells floating around, and made his way back to the Alphas.
"... he's going to die," Castiel said as soon as he was close enough to hear them. "We'll transport him and take a few hours off. Then we'll continue."
"I'll get it out of him myself," Dad said firmly, with his typical stubbornness, and turned to the cell door.
Castiel blocked his way, a warning growl on his lips and his chin raised in a pose.
"If you kill him, you'll ruin your best chance of finding Azazel, and I gave you my word that I would help you find him. I'm not going to let you make a liar out of me."
Dad took a breath to growl, which was the right time for Dean to intervene.
"Maybe it's my turn," he stepped in, figuratively as well as literally, standing at their sides but close enough to give the impression that he was standing between them.
"He's nowhere near ready to talk to you," Dad brushed him off without looking at him.
"Yeah, maybe. And it might also give me a chance to... you know... make some contact with him. And a chance for you two to cool off," he added, which, as he'd expected, drew the unkind attention of both Alphas, who fixed him with intense stares, under which his inner Omega duly crouched, urging him to comply. He brushed them aside and instead looked defiantly into the eyes of both Alphas.
"You've been in there," he nodded his head towards the door, "for hours. With all the blood and everything. You may not see what it's doing to you, but I do. I can smell it," he tapped his nose, referring not only to the current scent of anger that wafted from both Alphas, but also to the scent that was in Alastair's cell. "All this... I think it grates on your Alpha's instincts," and maybe something else, he added mentally, having no undue illusions about Cas or his father. Both were killers in their own way, and both killed for what they were loyal to.
"Or did't?" he added a little more gently, this time lowering his head.
The solid one to give at least a hint of backing off this time was Dad, as he leaned back, putting more distance between himself and Cas and relaxing his shoulders.
"Ten minutes," he said, and without saying anything else, he turned and walked down the hall.
Dean gave him a parting glance until he stopped at the corner, then turned back to Cas.
His Alpha greeted him with a tired look and a strain on his face that drew thin lines across his features. They locked eyes for a moment before the Alpha looked over his shoulder.
"Unlike your father, I believe you should be given a chance. You have a right to avenge your mother. And now is a good time to start," Cas said, looking at Dean again. "But remember... whatever Alastair tells you, don't let him make you angry and don't believe him. Despite everything we've done to him, he's still capable of lying."
Dean glanced briefly at the door behind Castiel and then back at his Alpha. He was tempted to ask if he'd be lying if he asked him how he felt right now, but he swallowed the question. He wouldn't get a real answer anyway.
"I'll think about it," he said, instead of asking and meaning it, and took a step around Castiel.
The Alpha gripped his forearm tightly, and when Dean turned his head to him, his eyes questioning, he slid his hand down his arm and took it. Cas's touch was uncomfortable and, more importantly, habitually cold, and his otherwise sure fingers trembled, the dry skin of his palms damp.
Dean frowned. He didn't like this touch at all, and once again the question of whether Alpha was okay tugged at his lips, but he pushed it aside.
"And vozlyublennyy...be careful."
The cool, wet touch of Castiel's thin hand was partially offset by the fact that the Alpha raised his hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles of his fingers. Then he let go of Dean and stepped back, allowing him to pass.
Dean hesitated a moment longer, more because of Cas than his fear of Alastair, but finally reached for the doorknob, turned it, and entered the cell.
°°0°°
Alastair's eyes were closed, but he wasn't unconscious. His chin was raised and the top of his head was resting on the wood behind him. Still, he didn't move when Dean took a slow step towards him. It was damned unnerving and a little bit frightening. The bastard couldn't have heard him. His boots made a lot of noise on the pavement and the cell was completely silent. He just ignored Dean.
He gritted his teeth.
He actually had a strong urge to draw attention to himself by driving his fist into Alastair's spleen - yeah, he wasn't as refined and elegant as Cas, he was more like his dad - but that wouldn't be a good start. So he decided to accept Alastair's game of silence and play the shy Omega himself, wanting to help but not really showing much.
So he walked over to the table with... well, calling it torture instruments was probably the easiest thing to do, and slowly made his way along it to the far end by the wall where several bottles of water had been placed. Pretty funny. The Alpha's men seemed to have thought about the possibility of getting thirsty while working, and had prepared refreshments for them. Who the hell would do that? Yeah, right, someone with a lot of experience, which was obvious from the varied selection of tools he passed.
There was a set of scalpels and saws that actually looked exactly like the ones they had in Doctor Sexy right there in the operating room. There was even some of that blue stuff underneath, and right next to it was a set of needles and thread for surgical suturing. On the other hand, there was a pair of large matte forceps that, for a change, looked like they were a good hundred years old and very much used. And also brass knuckles, a large alcohol lighter, several tin snips, car batteries and cables... some of these things he'd seen his Alphas use today, and he had no idea about the rest. Yeah, he had a good imagination.
He took one of the bottles and went back to the cave where Cas had put his tools. After mature and quick consideration he put on a pair of latex gloves, dumped the used tools out of the container and filled it with water. Then he grabbed one of the rags that lay on the Thane's table and walked over to Alastair with it all.
He soaked the tip of the cloth and pressed it against beta's bruised lip. Doing something like that was like putting a wet cloth on someone's head after a car accident, but... damn it, he wasn't really here to help Alastair. And there was nothing else he could do anyway.
He wiped the blood from Alastair's face for a moment and waited patiently for him to speak. After all, this bastard acted and probably felt like an Alpha, so Dean, like a proper Omega, shouldn't be the first to talk and shit like that. Only the Beta was silent and motionless. Like a damn yogi or something.
He clenched his jaw, forced himself to calm down, and then spoke in a calm, soothing, and, he hoped, properly uncertain voice:
"I don't know when they'll be back. I'll try to take care of you until then, but there's not much I can do."
Ja spoke, trying not to look directly into Beta's face, but watching him out of the corner of his eye. Partly because he was the closest he'd been to him since Alastair and his men had broken into their motel room, and it was still a little scary to be around him. And partly becOuse he was trying to find and decipher whatever reaction Alastair would give him.
Strangely enough, his reaction was considerable. He opened his eyes and slowly turned his head towards Dean.
"You've changed, pet," he said hoarsely through a cracked lip.
Dean couldn't help it, he stopped wiping the blood from his face, looked up at him and frowned. For some reason, he didn't like Beta's tone and it was hard not to show it.
"When we first met... you really didn't want to hurt me... but now... " The corners of his busted lips lifted in a smile that showed the broken teeth and the holes from the ones dad had straight up knocked out. "You like my pain. You like it...it turns you on..."
Dean inhaled sharply, then pursed his lips to keep from spitting out something to the effect that this stupid, shitty bullshit wasn't true. And that Alastair could wipe his ass with it. The problem was that it was true. He'd liked it ever since he'd met Cas. His omega had purred with excitement and smoldered with pride, even when Cas had killed a completely innocent Alpha for him, not to mention when he'd gotten Evans' balls in a gift box. And he also liked what Cas and Dad had done to Alastair. It made him feel protected, but also powerful. Having two Alphas like that to protect him really made him strong.
"If you don't get tamed..." Alastair continued; this time Dean let a small, swallowed growl escape his throat because he didn't like the taming bullshit, "you'll end up like... me."
The growl caught in his throat, the tension in his jaw eased, and Dean remained frozen in surprise, or perhaps shock and disbelief.
What the hell was Alastair talking about? He wasn't a saint, he'd had his share of thefts, disorderly conduct and fights, and yeah, he'd shot two guys - in self-defense - and he liked what Cas did... or at least sometimes. But he wasn't like Alastair. He wasn't anything like him! Alastair was a fucking monster. A monster who imprisoned Omegas in that hell and sold them to perverted bastards who had enough money to pay to fuck someone and then torture them to death. That's not who Dean was and never will be. He will never lay a hand on anyone who doesn't deserve it.
He didn't even realize how, but his hand shot out and grabbed Alastair's sweat and blood soaked hair.
"I'm not like you!" He barked through his teeth.
Beta laughed hoarsely and heavily.
"You're... look at you... a sick little animal..."
"Shut up!" He barked from the depths of his Omega self, offended at the mere thought of ever doing anything remotely similar to what Alastair was doing, and jerked Beta's head around.
His only other response was an unbearable laugh that cut into his ears, stirring up a new and fresh wave of anger. With a snarl, his teeth bared, he pulled Alastair's head back at such an angle that his forehead strained beneath the skin of his neck, decorated with bruises in the shape of Castiel's palm and fingers, shortening beta's breath. Now all he had to do was lean in a little more, then jerk his chin, and that unbearable, sick laughter would stop forever.
Damn, how much he wanted to do that, but...
He couldn't.
He froze in shock, loosening his grip on the dirty hair he had buried his fingers in. Shit! You're such an idiot, Winchester. All it took was so little, just a few well-chosen words, and you nearly ruined your chance to find Azazel and avenge your mother's death forever.
He took half a step back and let out a slow breath to calm himself.
He was acting like a child, or worse, like a wronged Omega. And like a complete fool he let himself be dominated by Alastair, as if his Alpha hadn't warned him before that he was a lying bastard and not to trust a word he said. He almost ruined everything.
It was probably best to back off and let the Alphas do the questioning. In fact, his whole crazy idea of having a compassionate Omega and building trust was probably wrong. Of course, it couldn't work with a guy like Alastair. He was a complete psychopath, a sadist and a junkie. Hardly a real person. Trying to get close to him was stupid.
He said nothing, just threw the cloth into the water and turned to carry it back to the table.
A grunt and a rattle behind him made him turn around, but it was too late to do anything else.
A large hand with strong, thin fingers gripped his throat. With a jerk, he was pulled so hard against Alastair's chest that the lavor slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a thud. Bloody water splashed and pelted Dean's legs.
It was numbing.
He gasped for an angry cry but couldn't get a sound out as Alastair's thin forearm dug under his chin, lifting his head and pressing down on his collarbone. He felt a warm wetness on the back of his neck that he knew for sure was blood from Beto's slashed chest, and a pressure on his throat that not only took words and breath away, but surprised him. He hadn't expected the bastard to have any strength left. Not after all the Alphas had done to him. Hell no! It would be easy to get out of his potentially deadly grip. It had to be.
Hooking his fingers into his skinny forearm to relieve the pressure on his throat, he drove his elbow into Alastair's battered chest. That should have been enough. The bastard wanted to let him go. Instead, he just made a grunting noise, showering Dean's head and face with spit and blood and then, to Dean's surprise, increasing his contact. He raised his hand even higher, not only cutting off Dean's access to air, but forcing him to stand on his toes.
"I wish you could... scream," Alastar rasped hoarsely into his ear. "I want to see the look on your master's face... when you scream." He tightened his grip again; Dean just grunted helplessly and curled his fingers into the hand that was choking him. "It must be enough for me to see his pet dead."
A hoarse, wet laugh chilled his ear along with the droplets of spit and blood dripping from Alastair's mouth. It was disgusting. Alastair had unknowingly, or perhaps intentionally, left his scent on him like that. It was the reason he wanted to get out of his grip, even if it was ridiculous. He didn't want Cas to smell it on him. There was nothing he could do about it, only desperately scrape his heels against the ground, digging his nails into the blood-soaked skin of his skinny arm, trying not to drift down the narrowing black tunnel that was slowly pulling him in.
The blow cut through the air.
Another shower of hot blood fell on Dean's face and his ears rang.
The grip on his throat loosened.
The loss of support caused him to fall to all fours, and when his throat suddenly and unexpectedly became free, he forgot to breathe for several seconds. When he finally did, despite the ringing in his ears, he heard his own wheezing breaths and intermittent gasps for air.
He was free.
Fuck! He was free!
He put a hand to his sore throat and looked up at the door. It was open. Dad was standing inside, his gun still cocked. Dean blinked, then cocked his head to the side to look behind him at Alastair's limp body hanging from the wooden cross. In addition to all the wounds he'd suffered today, there was the large hole in his left temple where a bullet had exited, taking not only a chunk of his skull, but his brain with it.
Big caliber. Just dad's style.
"Dine!"
The yell brought Castiel out from behind dad's back. His eyes were bleeding red, and by the look of his teeth, he was ready to kill. And on the tips of his teeth, both Alastair, who would deserve it, and Dad could easily end up dead.
Dean tried to make at least a conciliatory sound to reassure him that he was okay. A protective Alpha was a dangerous weapon, especially one like Cas. But he didn't make more than a damn grunt. Fortunately, before Cas started killing, he took a quick look around to assess the situation. He looked first at Alastair, then at his father, and finally at Dean.
From the way the red in his eyes had melted away and the way he let his lips fall over his teeth, it was fortunately clear that he had calmed down. So Dean allowed himself the luxury of coughing on his ass and letting out a big breath while sending a reassuring smile to Cas, who quickly walked over to him and held out his arms to help him up.
He accepted them gratefully and was about to drop his vanity and let them help him, but the trembling in Cas's otherwise strong arms and the pallor that crossed his face along with the hint of pain reminded him that his Alpha was hurt. And certainly a hundred times more than he was.
So while he didn't refuse his help, gripping the arm as if looking for support, he did most of the lifting himself. He was barely on his feet when the Alpha wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close, into the smell of roasting cherries, worry, and a hint of sour pain.
"Are you okay, moy sladkiy?"
"Yeah. Fine," he assured him, smiling.
"What happened?" Dad asked, approaching them with a frown on his face, the gun still in his hand, though he let it hang loosely around his waist.
"I don't know. I turned my back on him for a moment... and suddenly his hand was free..."
"Didn't I teach you anything, Omega?" Dad interrupted sharply, his voice carrying not only his Alpha authority, which made Dean involuntarily bow his head a little, but also disappointed remorse. "You must never turn your back on an enemy, even if you think he's disarmed. This mistake has cost the lives of hundreds of fools. Mostly arrogant Alphas. You're an Omega. You should be more cautious and careful."
It wasn't the first time his dad had scolded him like that, and truthfully, it was justified. He shouldn't have been distracted by Alastair and he shouldn't have turned his back on him. The bastard had taught him a hard lesson, and deservedly so. What dad had blamed him for was equally deserved. He had accepted it meekly, but Cas... yes, of course he hadn't. He didn't like the idea of another Alpha, even if it was Dean's former Alpha, raising his voice to the Omega he considered his own, and he made it clear with a warning growl that echoed through his chest.
"I know, sir. I'm sorry."
"Your apology doesn't change the fact that you blew your best chance at finding Azazel."
Dean lowered his eyes in natural submission, admitting that Alpha was right. Because of his carelessness and mistakes, they had lost the chance to interrogate Alastair further. He might not have told them anything, but at least they would have tried to get something out of him. This way he couldn't say anything.
The half-open cell door flew wide open until it hit the wall and Alpha's men, led by Pyotr, burst into the room. They all had their guns drawn and were ready to shoot.
"Slozhite eto oruzhiye," Castiel ordered half-mouthed, which was enough to make all four Betas who burst in drop their weapons or tuck them into their belts. "My zakonchili zdes'. Pristupayte k uborke."
"Zakazyvayte, boss," Pyotr replied with a polite nod before motioning to the men behind him.
The Betas made their way to the table with their tools and weapons, keeping a cautious distance and avoiding their father, who holstered his weapon and headed for the door. Even Pyotr avoided him, though he did so with grace, making it look as if he had retreated to the wall to lean against it and light a cigarette.
"Let's go, Omega. Let's find a place to wash up. You stink and you've got brains in your hair," Castiel said before placing a hand high on his back and gently pushing him toward the door.
Dean walked obediently. Not only did he want to get out of this filthy cell, somewhere far away from Alastair's corpse, and then wash the smell, blood, saliva... oh, and the brain he'd forgotten about off of him. Most of the time, he felt bloody miserable and guilty about how he'd screwed everything up. This was despite the fact that his Alpha didn't seem to be angry with him, which was comforting, at least for his Omega.
They passed Pyotr, who had just lit up, and then walked down the corridor, passing one door after another, all of them closed except for the one where they could see into the ridiculous imitation dungeon and the naked body...
"Meg!" He shouted, stopping dead in his tracks.
His shout was loud enough to attract the attention of not only Cas, but also his father, who was a few steps ahead of them, heading for the stairs. Both Alphas turned and looked at him questioningly. While Castiel's face showed a slight confusion in addition to the question, Dad's gaze showed a certain impatience and lingering annoyance and disappointment at what had happened for a change. It almost made him keep quiet and say nothing about Meg, because he wasn't sure if he could trust her himself. But if she was telling the truth and really knew something about Azazel, or at least his connection to Alastair, he would never have allowed himself to remain silent.
"Alastair's got her in that cell over there." He pointed a thumb behind him at the cell they had just passed. "I spoke to her earlier. She claimed to know something about mom. Maybe we should question her..."
"You can't trust anyone who says they know something, especially when they're in a cell. What do you know about this woman anyway?"
"She's been on Alastair's trail for the last few months. She seemed to be his mistress, then it turned out that she was actively involved in his business. We haven't been able to find out who she really is, but she's been close to Alastair for some time and might know something. Especially if he locked her in here," Cas pointed out, glancing over Dean's shoulder at the door of Meg's cell with a typically thoughtful expression that made his brow furrow.
"She knew Azazel's name," he added, hoping that would help his father make up his mind.
But it wasn't his father who approached Meg's cell, it was Castiel.
"This is a waste of time!" Dad called after him.
Castiel paused in the doorway and, resting his hand on the frame, looked over his shoulder.
"I gave my word that I would help you find Azazel. I won't miss any opportunity to find out about him, because I always keep my word," he replied, speaking with that ridiculously sacred gravity only he could speak with, and then he was gone from the cell.
Dean glanced briefly at his dad, who was frowning in displeasure, then strode off after his Alpha. The urging of his Omega, whom Cas had always wanted to follow, made him do it, but so did the logic of his words. They shouldn't waste any opportunity, especially now that Alastair was dead.
When he entered, he found Cas standing by Meg's head, motioning for Kota to remove the gag that Alpha's men would have to return to her after he left this cell. At the same time, he heard his father's footsteps behind him. A quick glance assured him that he had indeed joined them, however reluctantly.
A piece of leather slipped from Meg's mouth with a flick of the wrist, and Beta breathed a little more relaxed than when the gag had first been removed.
"I must have died and gone to heaven with you here, Clerence," Meg croaked.
Dean frowned and his Omega snarled jealously.
The woman was unreal. She literally had death on her mind, but she still had to flirt with his Alpha, and so stupidly. If he hadn't spent hours watching TV with Uncle Bobby, even he wouldn't have known who the hell Clarence was, let alone Cas. He was from Russia, for God's sake. I don't think he'd know an American movie from the '50s. And he didn't.
Cas tilted his head in a gesture of confusion before looking up at Kota.
“YA khotel yeye vyslushat'. Ty ne ponyal moikh prikazov?”
“My zabotilis' o ney. My dali yey vypit'.”
"Ona v takom plokhom sostoyanii, chto dazhe ne uznayet menya. On nazval menya Klerencom."
From what little Russian he'd picked up so far, he guessed they were talking about what Meg had told him. He took a step forward to somehow discreetly explain to Cas what was going on, but was stopped by a hoarse laugh that ended in a sharp intake of breath from the handcuffed Beta.
"It's a character... from the movie... Angel Clerence," Meg explained, causing Cas and Kota to turn sharply to look at her; Meg laughed again. "Da. Ya govoryu po russki."
If the Alpha was surprised by this revelation, he didn't show it, but got right to the point:
"You have information about the Alpha who murdered an Omega named Mary Winchester. Azazel. I want you to tell me what you know about him."
"Okay," Meg replied immediately, no diatribe, but a smile on her face. "But I won't do it for your pretty... blue eyes, Clerence. I want to live."
"I'll decide if you're going to live based on what you tell me."
There was a silence in which Meg stared at Cas for a long moment before she looked briefly at Kot, finally ending the journey of her eyes to him and his father.
"Do you have the photo?" She finally broke the silence with a question that implied she actually knew something.
Alastair had kept that strange childhood photo of him and Azazel as his most treasured secret and was willing to do anything to get it back. While dad hadn't figured out why it was so important or found a clue to Mom's killer in it, Meg might have seen a clue in it.
Dad and Cas' minds were in the same place as Dean's when dad pulled his phone out of his pocket and Castiel stepped back to give it a place next to Meg's head. Dad stood next to Meg and showed her the picture.
Dean moved closer, making sure he didn't miss anything Meg said or did, or her scent, though he couldn't smell much of her in the stench of desperation and blood and flesh in his hair.
"There's both Alastair and Azazel in this picture."
"We already know that," Dad replied, shoving his phone back into his pocket and turning away from the bound woman. "If that's all you know, you have nothing to save your life."
"I know more. I know the woman. I know who she is... what she is... to Alastair and Azazel... and others," eg held him back with her words. "She is their first... first love... first fuck... first victim."
First victim? What the hell...?! She didn't mean that the two bastards had killed the blonde camp counselor. They were Sam's age at the time. They were just kids. On the other hand, it made sense in a creepy way. Thirty years ago there were no police databases, no Facebook or Google or news websites. If the blonde girl had gotten lost in some backwoods town, they might as well have dumped her body in the river or buried it in the leaves, and the local police or sheriff would have filed her away as a tourist lost in the woods. And now her file was rotting in some basement, and no one bothered to enter it into the computer. Maybe the newspapers didn't even write about her, and if they did, the old issues wouldn't be on the Web. So dad might not have found anything about her. And if they ever found her bones, they might have been filed away in a warehouse somewhere as unidentified. The cops had tons of bodies like that stashed away in warehouses.
But the idea of her being killed by two puppies... damn, that was pretty damn scary. The world was a really shitty place when that happened.
"I don't need to find her body, I need to find Azazel," Dad pointed out coldly.
"She's not dead," Meg surprised them. "She lives in northeastern Minnesota."
"There are thick forests and big lakes there. And only a few small towns. Where exactly does she live?"Dean interjected.
Meg looked at him briefly before turning her attention back to her father and partially to Castiel.
"She doesn't live in town.Alastair put her up in a cabin...it's deep in the woods...no signal...no GPS...you have to go there by memory."
"And I guess the only option is to take you with us," Castiel finished for her.
"Yes. I've been there a few times. I know the way."
Cas and Dad exchanged quick glances, then Castiel nodded slightly and headed for the door. There was no need for him to say anything, they both knew to follow him out.
When they came out, Alpha was just pulling a cigarette out of the pack.
"She's one of Alastair's people," he said over the cigarette he caught in his gold tooth, looking at his father over the lit lighter, "and she's caused us some problems. I can't let her live. It would be a weakness. The Russians would lose respect." He took a drag from his cigarette and seemed to want to continue talking, as he had in the sound, but his words were lost in a sudden coughing fit. And regardless of the fact that anyone could see it, especially another Alpha, a shadow of pain crossed his face, making the Dean’s Omega jump. In accordance with her wish to help his Alpha, he took a step forward, but a sharp look from icy blue eyes and a raised hand stopped him.
He watched carefully as his Alpha breathed slowly, watching his father out of the corner of his eye, half expecting him to say something shrill, but he remained silent, waiting patiently for Cas to get enough air into his lungs to speak again:
"I can give her... a reprieve. Let her go with you." He stubbed out the barely lit cigarette against the wall and shoved it into his jacket pocket. "But you can't try to help her. We'll find her, and if we find out you helped her or are with her..."
"I don't want to help her," Dad replied. "I just want her to lead me to this woman, if she even exists. And if not... I can take care of your problem for you."
Castiel raised his eyebrows in mild surprise and tilted his head a little, meeting dad's gaze, then looked briefly at Dean as if expecting a reaction from him. Dean didn't do or say anything. He knew his dad had killed before, and he suspected not just in the military where it was his job, but he believed he had never killed an innocent. And Meg certainly wasn't innocent.
He could live with the knowledge that Dad would kill her. Maybe not before, but he certainly did now.
"I'll take your word for it, Alpha Winchester," Cas uttered gravely, holding out his hand to dad.
Surprisingly, he took it without hesitation, and the two Alphas exchanged a long look, chins raised and chests puffed out, but this time not in challenge or threat. It was a gesture of mutual respect, and it was Castiel, as the one who offered his hand and the first pose, who broke the grip.
"I'll let her get ready. It would be best if you waited upstairs," he informed them curtly, almost brushing past Dean as he stopped and leaned toward him. His nose wrinkled in disgust and he could be heard taking a long breath. "You smell like him. It beats your scent, dorogay."
"I'm sure they have water behind the bar. I'll wash some of this stink off me, Alpha," he promised happily, smelling quite a bit himself, though after the time he'd spent in this hole and around Alasdtair's blood, he'd somehow gotten used to it and was surprised that the unpleasant smells hardly bothered him.
Cas said nothing. He certainly didn't feel the need to respond to Dean's acknowledgement of his half-hearted order and simply disappeared into the doorway of Meg's cell.
"Let's go, puppy. I want to be as far away from this place as possible," Dad grumbled as he placed his warm hand on the back of Dean's head in a reassuring gesture.
And then they made their way to the stairs.
Notes:
“Slozhite eto oruzhiye. My zakonchili zdes'. Pristupayte k uborke.” - Put your guns down. We're done here. Let's clean up.
“Zakazyvayte, boss" - Aye, aye, boss.
YA khotel yeye vyslushat'. Ty ne ponyal moikh prikazov? - I wanted to interview her. Have you misunderstood my orders?
“My zabotilis' o ney. My dali yey vypit'.” - "We took care of her. We gave her something to drink."
“Ona v takom plokhom sostoyanii, chto dazhe ne uznayet menya. On nazval menya Klerencom.” - "She's in such a bad state that she doesn't even recognize me. He called me Clerence."
Da. Ya govoryu po russki. - Yes, I speak Russian.
Chapter Text
In the end, the bar gun came in handy, as he was able to wash the bloody shit out of his hair and at least wash away some of Alastair's awful smell. Once he was out of the dungeon under the club, he suddenly seemed stronger.
When he was done with the bare minimum of cleaning, one of Castiel's men, whom he didn't even know, surprised him and handed him a clean towel. Dean guessed that he would somehow... carefully treat it as potential evidence, just as he had when he'd shot two of Alastair's men.
Though he couldn't imagine how anyone would clean up the mess they'd made downstairs, including Alastair's mutilated body, the dead guard with the bag over his head, and most importantly, the group of potential witnesses who, though they couldn't see anything, still seemed to be a liability. And not just in Dean's eyes. Even dad was eyeing them warily.
But when Castiel emerged from the dungeon, accompanied by Kot and Meg -- dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a loose men's shirt, their hands tied -- he stopped paying attention to the hostages and wanted to know what to do next. Cas's only answer was to provide the means and manner, then he turned away, his face losing expression, clearly telling Dean that he wasn't going to elaborate.
Oddly enough, dad understood as well, and soon they were back in the car.
Sam, who had been left alone for several hours, dozed on the seat and when the door opened with a low growl, he sat up straight, teeth bared in warning. But when he realized it was just the two of them, he calmed down quickly and stared at Dean for a long moment as he got into the Mercedes. He didn't ask, not with words, but with a look, yes, and since Dean couldn't tell him everything, he limited himself to saying that he and Alastair were finished and that they had a lead on his mom's killer.
Sam took it without protest or question, although he indicated with a look that he wanted to know more. He didn't say it out loud, and he did well. The smell of bitter almonds and pain had long since almost overpowered the scent of cherry pie, and Cas's face was pale and his breathing shallow and slow. Fortunately, though, he was breathing regularly. That was somewhat comforting. Anyway, he had to be in pain, and teasing him with a few questions was like sticking a tail directly into a lion's mouth.
It was a good thing that the little Alpha had realized that.
Dean decided to take the plunge and placed his palm reassuringly on Castiel's fist, which the Alpha had placed on his knee. Cas didn't react, still staring out the window, but he released his grip and let Dean slip his fingers into his palm.
They stayed like that for the rest of the ride.
°°0°°
The sun shone faintly through the clouds that had covered the sky when they were down in the cell with Alastair, falling on a dingy sign with the garage logo in the shape of a car with a river between its wheels. Well, apparently it was a river, the Volga, because the name of the garage was Volga Motors. At least that's how Viktor explained it to him.
While Dean stood at Cas' side with Sam to his left, dad was just getting out of the Impala and Viktor, together with Nikolai, was walking towards them from the garage. There were no customers because there was a big closed sign on the gate of the garage. So no one could disturb them, even though it was daytime.
"So you work here now?" asked Sam half-loudly, perhaps just to break the hum of wind and traffic, muffled by the rather thick wall, which were the only sounds that could be heard. Even though dad approached them, his eyes not only on the garage but also on Alpha's men, he remained silent.
"Yeah. I'm helping out a bit," he nodded, also half-voiced, catching dad's eye. It was quick, so he wasn't sure if there was approval, surprise or disapproval in the Alpha family's eyes. He could only guess.
"Dobryy den', Castiel Konstantovich," Viktor greeted Castiel first, as he usually did, then nodded in Dean's direction as well. "Mr. Winchester," he switched to English with a thick Russian accent.
Dean couldn't help but frown. He didn't like being called 'Mr. Winchester'. It sounded ridiculous, and doubly so in the presence of dad and Cas. Hell, even the youngest Sashko was ten years older than Dean.
Cas didn't bother saying hello, instead turning to dad.
"You need to get rid of all those papers. They'll make new ones for you," he nodded to Viktor. "Just need a photo."
"I have that." dad reached into his pocket for the few photos he always carried with him in case he needed photo IDs made on short notice.
"Excuse me..." Victor said politely and held out his hand for them. He looked at them quickly and nodded. "That'll do," he agreed, handing them to Nicholas, who just nodded politely to Castiel and quickly jogged back to the workshop.
Dean guessed they were going somewhere in the basement, where they had a workshop for documents and probably other things. Not the brewhouse, no, he was sure, because there was no smell of anything disgustingly chemical under the gray-painted shelves hidden behind the shelves at the back of the workshop. Maybe just a little alcohol and ink, but even that was faint. And subtle. Even the door itself was inconspicuous, and when other Volga Motor employees entered it, they tried to do so as stealthily as possible. They even kept it a secret from Dean. It was as if he didn't know that this workshop was actually a front for Cas's business.
"Get some cars ready, too," Castiel continued in a neutral voice, just a slight nod to the Impala, "and get rid of this one. It's too conspicuous and the police databases are full of it."
"We'll take it apart and it'll be gone in a few hours," Victor assured him, much to Dean's dismay. And not just Dean's. Even his Omega began to shift uneasily, not liking the idea of losing Baby. It was dad's car. He'd spent most of his life in it. Oh, shit! It was their home and Dean's nest.
"That's out of the question! Nobody touches the car!" He snapped angrily, somehow forgetting that he shouldn't have defied Castiel's wishes so publicly. He figured it out in a heartbeat, his stomach dropping a little and his anger replaced by caution as he let his head drop and looked at Castiel through his lashes. "I mean... I've lived in this car most of my life, Alpha. Couldn't we just hide it somewhere?"
"An Impala is worth at least ninety grand. It would be foolish to destroy it," dad joined in his protest, and though he tried to sound calm, perhaps a little condescending, the waft of rotting roses that irritated Dean's nose and his Omega said he really cared about the Impala. But he tried not to show it in front of Castiel.
"Ninety grand is nothing," the other Alpha snapped coldly, almost unkindly, which made Dean tense. A moment later, though, the thin lines of irritation on Castiel's face relaxed, and he let out a long but quiet sigh that only Dean, standing nearby, could hear, and turned back to Victor. "But it's enough to make it pointless to waste and destroy such a beautiful car. Hide it somewhere. In a few months the police suky won't care about it anymore, and if it gets a new plate... you need a new car anyway," he turned to dad again.
"We have a perfect one here," Victor followed. "Follow me..."
He led them to one of the cars, covered with a tarp, parked under the shelters that stretched around the brick walls. He pulled back most of the tarp, revealing the hood of a plain Toyota Camry from what he guessed was the thirteenth year, painted a dull silver-gray. A simpler, more practical car might not have existed. They were everywhere. Literally like weeds. Old, young, families and singles had them. They were practical, big trunks, lots of leg room, airbags everywhere, safe, and ugly.
Dad would get completely lost in a car like that.
"That'll do," Castiel agreed, turning away from the car, "if you have anything you want to take, transfer it out of the Impala, but leave the trunk open," he continued. He stopped when he was at dad's level. "You're going to need it," he pointed out, and without saying anything else, he walked over to the car that two of his men had arrived in.
"Sammy," dad turned to Little Alpha, "get my bag and my gun case out of the Impala."
"Sure, dad. And I'll put them in the back seat," Sam agreed and ran to the Impala.
Dad gave the little Alpha a quick look before giving Dean one, then went over to Castiel, who was still talking to Jacob about something.
Dean quickly caught up with dad.
"... My razberemsya s etim pozzhe," Castiel ended the discussion when he realized they were within earshot and took a step back. "Take her out," he ordered, already in English.
Vadim opened the trunk of the car in which he and Jacob had followed them from Alastair's club and in which, Dean could see, they had stuffed Meg. Reaching inside, he pulled the bound Beta out and dropped her to the ground. Because her hands were tied behind her back, she couldn't break her fall and landed face first in the oil-soaked mud. Again, the gag in his mouth prevented him from screaming or cursing out loud, but she made a sound that he had no doubt was an expletive.
"Pick her up," Castiel ordered.
Vadim bent over Meg and pulled her to her feet.
Now, with the mud on top of all the bloody welts, she really did look like she'd been through hell, but just like in Alastair's prison, there was a lively gleam in her eyes here and now. And something that actually looked like amusement. It still looked bad enough that Dean could smell the familiar whiff of protective Alpha scent from his dad - Castiel lifted his chin, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent as well - and then, despite Cas's disapproving look, he untied Meg's gag and pulled it from her mouth.
"No need for the gag."
The Beta took a long breath and licked her lips with her pale, dry tongue.
"That was nice, Daddy Bear. Thanks," Meg said, almost flirtatiously, but mockingly at the same time.
"If you behave, I'll be nice to you. And I'll let you ride in the seat instead of the trunk."
"That's not a good idea," Cas took the words right out of Dean's mouth.
Despite how impoverished Meg looked right now and the fact that she had important information, so it was good to keep her alive, she was still Alastair's right hand for a reason. And besides, she must have survived some pretty shitty things in that hellish prison and kept her sanity - well, at least as much sanity as she'd had before. The trunk was definitely the best place for her.
"It'll be less conspicuous. If the cops stop me and I have a woman tied up in the trunk..."
"But it will be more dangerous," Castiel replied. At that, he grabbed the back of Meg's head and used his Alpha strength to pin her against the hood of the car with one hand.
The Beta gave a surprised gasp that turned into a laugh.
"Aren't you moving a little fast, Clerence? We haven't even exchanged numbers yet," she said with a mocking laugh.
A whiff of the bitter almonds of Castiel's anger filled the air, but it washed over quickly like a sea wave, replaced by a mixture of the smell of pain and stale cake. And the only way he showed his irritation was with a warning growl, his lip raised to reveal his golden fangs, and his fingers digging deeper into the woman's hair, forcing her to bend a little more.
"Look," he said, rolling up Meg's shirt to reveal the lower half of her back, covered in old and new bruises, some dirt and blood, but there was still a clearly visible black dot. It wasn't even as big as the belly of Dean's little finger, it almost looked like a mole if it wasn't right on her spine and not too regular in shape. It was a tattoo.
"The mark of the Hitmen's Guild," Alpha explained before anyone could ask. "It's more dangerous than you think. I wouldn't want her in the backseat. And it's not safe in the front either," he added, pulling her clothes back over her bare back and turning her around to face them.
"Is that all, Clerence? Too bad. I was just starting to have fun," Meg grinned mockingly.
Dean frowned. This woman really knew how to get on his nerves.
"Hey, why don't you shut up," he growled half-mouthed at her.
"Don't be greedy. Enough for us - " She didn't have time to finish because Jacob slapped her with the back of his hand, sending her back into the mud.
"Shut up, bitch!"
Normally, he would have stood up for the woman. That's how his dad raised him. To stand up for the weak and vulnerable. And besides, his Omega instincts usually left him no choice. But this time, he had no need to help Meg, and neither did dad, who just gave the lying woman a grim look. That neither Castiel nor any of his men had helped her didn't surprise Dean. He had seen them do worse things... no, damn it, Winchester, don't bring that up now or you'll make Meg regret it.
"The papers will be ready by now," Castiel said, straddling the still lying woman. "Come in and get them. And I'll throw in some money. There should be a couple thousand in the safe. Vadim will load it into the trunk for you in the meantime," he continued, as if he were talking about a trunk rather than a living person.
"I don't need the money. I have the ones you already gave me," dad replied.
Castiel and Dean both looked at him in surprise and question.
"You have?" was the first to break the silence, Castiel's head tilted to the side and his eyes squinted in question but also something like suspicion, his scent taking on a bitter tinge of anger.
"I don't sell my sons, but I'm no fool. If someone leaves a package lying around, I don't walk away from it. Do you?" dad asked defiantly.
Dean chimed in, half holding his breath. The two Alphas were sizing each other up again, and the provocation in dad's tone and words was obvious to everyone, not just the Alpha ears. This could have easily turned into more shit, so he decided he'd better strategically move half a step to be between the two fools again. And ready to intervene. When suddenly there was a sound from Castiel's chest that actually made Dean's heart race with worry. It sounded like his Alpha was choking, and horrific scenarios of a broken rib puncturing a lung ran through his mind.
In reality, it wasn't that dangerous.
What sounded like choking, which earned Castiel a few worried looks from his men, turned into a hoarse laugh.
"Da...da...you're right, Alpha Winchester," he said through bared teeth, his scent slightly sweet and amusement playing in his eyes; Dean relaxed and exhaled in relief. "I don't leave a dime on the ground. We're no different."
"No, not in that way," dad nodded, his shoulders slumped in a pose of relaxation, and indeed a certain amusement flashed in his voice and scent. "But I could use some ammunition."
"That can be arranged," Castiel nodded, adding: "Come on..." before heading for the garage.
dad followed and Dean took a step in the same direction, but a passing Castiel stopped him with a raised hand.
"Stay here, Omega. Keep an eye on... this," he ordered, nodding his head vaguely in the direction of Meg, who so far had managed to at least sit up so she wasn't lying in the mud.
"Okay, Alpha," he nodded, half in denial. It seemed much more sensible to go with them and ease the tension between the Alphas, but when his Alpha ordered something in front of his men, he just couldn't protest. There would be consequences, and... well, if dad even suspected that Castiel had ever laid a hand on him - even if he had been right and justified in doing so - it probably wouldn't end well.
He escorted the two Alphas out with a look until they disappeared into the workshop. Then he turned to the Betas. Meanwhile, Vadim had picked Meg up from the ground and was apparently waiting for instructions, keeping a curious eye on Dean. Fine. He was supposed to see to Meg's transfer to the trunk of dad's new car, so he'd do that.
"It's over there," he said, nodding his head towards the back of the yard and making his own way to the silver Toyota first.
Sammy stood beside the car, watching them warily and questioningly as they approached, and when they were near him, he spoke:
"Who is she?" And he nodded to Meg.
"That's... um..." he glanced back at the Beta female for a moment, trying to think of the right way to describe what she was without admitting to the little Alpha where they had found her and in what condition. And who she really was. But then again, seeing the way Meg looked and the handcuffs on her hands, it was probably pointless to make any excuses. Sammy certainly wasn't stupid.
"'She's going to help dad find Azazel, but... well, she's not going to do it out of the goodness of her heart."
"I see. Will she travel in the trunk?" The little Alpha asked calmly, his gaze fixed on the Betas, and something heavy and pajama-like and unpleasant that Dean had never felt from him seemed to waft through his scent. It took hold and didn't seem to be going away anytime soon.
He sucked in air diluted with moisture, trying to describe the scent, so different from his beloved puppy scent, but it was impossible. It was just something... Alpha.
"Yeah,she will be," he finally agreed, after what seemed like an eternity.
Sam just nodded slightly and took his hand out of his pocket. He had a key in it. Dean held out his hand, expecting him to give it to him, but the little Alpha turned the key in the lock himself and opened the trunk.
Dean dropped his hand and frowned at Sam, who peered inside without wondering if they were going to shove Meg in there and pushed aside the loose first aid kit and reflective vest.
"Might need some kind of tarp. It's pretty clean," Sammy pointed out, stepping aside and motioning with his head for Dean to take a look.
He only gave it a quick glance. Sam was right. The trunk looked like the carpets had been replaced and the rubber pad on the floor was obviously new. Putting Meg in there, in the condition she was in, would have made the car thoroughly dirty.
"Get some tarps. I'll keep an eye on her for now," he turned to Vadin and Jacob; but they weren't about to leave. "I'll be fine. There's nowhere to run anyway." He glanced around to point out that three of the yard's walls were formed by a high, unbroken brick wall, and the fourth was divided by a tightly closed, solid metal gate. Meg would have had to be Spider-Man to get out of the garage.
"We'll be right back," Jacob said.
Vadim set Meg down on the hood of the car, almost literally, because she had to lean sideways to stand, and then the two Betas went their separate ways to find some clean tarps.
Dean and Sam were alone in the silence, under the piercing gaze of Meg's brown eyes. She had them a bit like a cat. Not in color or shape, but in the way she looked at them, mocking, amused and suspicious all at once.
After a moment, she sucked on Beta's nose to draw in the blood that had seeped from her nostrils and wiped the rest on her own shoulder, then licked her lips and spoke:
"You don't really know, do you, little Omega?" He asked amused.
Dean frowned.
"Don't know what?"
"The power you gained tonight.”
"What are you talking about?" He asked irritably. He had only met this Beta twice, and both times she had spoken in riddles and jibes, and it was really easy to lose patience with her.
"About Castiel," Sam told him surprisingly.
He gave him a questioning look.
"With Alastair gone, there's no one more powerful in this town than the Russians and their Authority. And guess who has power over him."
The thought of having a strong and powerful Alpha crossed his mind a hundred times. In fact, it crossed his mind every damn morning he woke up next to Castiel. And his Omega was thrilled. It meant he had a safe place to nest and have pups, and his offspring would have super genes and be as strong as their Alpha father. But that was just the shit his instincts made him think. Not reality. Despite everything Cas had done for him, he couldn't really control him. Maybe just steer him a bit or calm him down.
"You're stirring up shit. You must have lost your mind in that hellhole," he dismissed her with disdain.
"Never thought better," Beta grinned. "I'd give anything to be in your shoes, little boy. I'd burn this city to the ground. Just for fun." He leaned closer to Dean. "You should consider doing the same, because the only way to scare off the big sharks is to kill all the fish. Especially the ones that can change color."
Before he could ask what he was talking about, Jacob appeared with a nicely straightened tarp. Not that it mattered that he'd interrupted them. Probably Beta was seriously out of it. She was going crazy from pain, dehydration, or who knew what Alastair had injected her with. Dean didn't have to try to understand what she was saying. He just had to hope that what she said about the woman in the photo was true and that he could actually find her.
And Vadim immediately brought out the tape. Both of Cas's men lined the suitcase and taped the tarpaulin with the skill of years of experience. And Meg, oddly enough, watched it all without blinking or even showing a hint of fear, for a change, like someone who wasn't traveling with a suitcase for the first time tonight. She didn't even resist when they started pushing her into the trunk. In fact, she had wriggled out of Jacob's grasp, but not to try to escape, but to get into the trunk herself.
Vadim slammed the lid shut behind her.
"Strannaya zhenshchina. Ya budu rad, chto ona mertva," Vadim growled something.
"Da. Me too," Jacob nodded.
Dean frowned slightly. It bothered him more and more that he didn't understand what Castiel's men were saying to each other. He didn't think Vadim would say anything... well, that he really needed to know, but sometime in the future... sometime in the future, he might need to understand the Alpha's men. If they were talking about something that Alpha needed to know.
Oh shit! He sighed inwardly and ruffled his hair. He'd had a long day and night, and he was tired and sore, and the crazy hooker's talk was probably getting to his brain or something. There were no big sharks. No betrayal. No chameleon colors and stuff.
"Omega."
"Yeah?" He turned a distracted look to his Alpha, who addressed him.
The two Alphas returned from inside. Cas stood between Vadim and Jacob, who formed an imaginary shield separating him from Dean's dad, who kept a polite distance from them, clutching a plastic wrapper containing several sets of various documents.
Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly and tilted his head slightly before glancing at Dean and then at the case, raising an eyebrow in question as he looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
"She's inside, Alpha. It was fine. She didn't even put up much of a fight."
"She thinks she'll have a better chance of escaping me than the Russians," dad pointed out, adding when everyone looked at him: "She won't. We made a deal, and I'm going to keep it."
"I have no doubt you will honor our agreement, Alpha Winchester," Castiel replied neutrally.
The two Alphas looked into each other's eyes for the usual long moment, proving to each other that they were confident in themselves and their territory, and then dad turned to Dean.
"Here, son," he said without much introduction, reaching into his pocket and handing him the keys to the Impala. "Take good care of her. She's still a beautiful lady, but she's getting on in years. She needs a lot of care."
Dean took the keys from his palm and gripped them tightly. It was far from the first time he'd held them, or that dad had let Baby take care of them, but this time it seemed so... different. Oddly permanent or something. Like the slowly warming metal was melting in his hand.
He swallowed the dumpling and looked at the black beauty that was now his.
Completely his. His own.
Dad had given her to him.
He knew it. He could smell the sadness in its scent, but also the sweet scent of roses and home that dad only smelled sometimes. In the good times, when he could curl up next to his family's Alpha, let it mark him and be lulled by its scent. He hadn't remembered that feeling for a long time. The thought was still cold. It was dad. But the need to be with him seemed to have faded into the background, replaced by the need to be with his new Alpha. With his Castiel.
Was this what it looked like when Omega left the family nest and found his own Alpha? Yeah, he guessed it was probably like that.
"I'll take care of her, Alpha, until you get back," he said, even though he knew dad wouldn't take her back, and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. It would be damn embarrassing if he cried here.
Dad smiled softly and put a hand on his shoulder.
Dean tilted his head so he could lean on his hand and take in the scent of birch and rose.
"I know you do," dad replied, squeezing his shoulder and grabbing his neck with the other. "Now come here, puppy," he growled, his deep voice echoing through his chest, pulling Dean against his chest.
One hand still held the keys tightly against his chest, but he wrapped the other around dad's shoulders, closed his eyes, and lowered his head. Dad's unshaven beard with its stinging stubble brushed against his forehead and hair, leaving his Alpha scent behind. The scent of an Alpha marking his pup.
"Sammy..." dad's voice came over his head, a little questioning and a little challenging.
Dean opened his eyes, pulling away from dad's chest just enough to get a good look at the scowling Alpha pup shifting in place. He could see the wheels turning beneath his brother's overgrown hair. As he wrestled with the pup's desire to join in and his instinctive resistance to show any weakness.
"You should say goodbye to your father, pup. He's leaving for a long time," Castiel's voice surprised them all.
Dean turned to his Alpha with a sudden feeling that maybe he should have held back a little, too. Yeah, it was his dad, but Alpha's instincts when it came to Omegas were just insane and Castiel and dad had tried to kill each other at least a dozen times. Strangely, though, Alpha didn't seem to mind. His expression was neutral as he held a lit cigarette in his hand and watched them from under his lowered eyelids.
"Damn..." Sam sighed and started towards them.
Dean moved out of the way just enough for dad to hug him and pull him close, and watched as he marked Sammy's hair as well. With a few long, somewhat sloppy strokes, as was dad's habit, he pulled away and raked through the little Alpha's hair. Although Sam grunted in displeasure and pulled away in protest at such treatment, he didn't actually let go of the sleeve of dad's jacket. He clutched it tightly.
Dean knew Sam wouldn't want to look like a clinging puppy who wouldn't let go of his Alpha father, so he put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Into his scent. They hadn't seen each other for so long, and Sammy had grown so much that he wondered for a moment if it would have any effect at all, but fortunately it did.
The little Alpha relaxed and let go of the sleeve of dad's jacket, allowing him to turn to Cas and his men.
The two Alphas stared at each other one last time, long and in complete silence, before Castiel moved slightly, leaving enough room for dad to squeeze around the side of the car and into the driver's seat.
He pulled Sam aside, and Castiel, Jacob, and Vadim stepped back as well.
The car backed past them, turned in the open yard, and headed straight for the door that the guys from the garage had opened wide. It drove through and turned left.
The gate creaked and slammed back, including the large metal barrier.
Dean remained silent, staring at the brown-painted metal, feeling... strangely empty. It wasn't the first time he'd seen dad drive away, nor the first time he'd done so hastily, without more than a quick hug to say goodbye. This time, though, his goodbye seemed final.
Sam shifted slightly in his embrace and snuggled closer to him.
"I don't think he's coming back this time," he said half-loud. He explained conciliatorily.
Dean turned his head, frowning, and was about to disagree, only to have a shadow fall over him as Castiel approached them, the sour smell of pain and burning cigarette overwhelming him, causing him to turn his head to his Alpha.
"Samuel should go back to his foster parents," Cas said without taking his eyes off the door, taking a light drag on his cigarette. The red end was barely lit and the sound it made in the Alpha's lungs didn't please Dean one bit.
He glanced quickly at Sam.
All his Omega instinct wanted was to take his puppy to their lair, where he would be perfectly safe, and then take care of his Alpha. And it was hard not to give in to her worried growl, but he knew it wasn't a good idea. He couldn't just keep Sam. Not after the kidnapping and all.
"Right, Alpha. We'll get him back," he nodded, ready to head straight for the Mercedes. Not that he wanted to get rid of Sam, but he was going for the next best thing. Get him to his foster parents first and then deal with Alpha.
"I have to come back alone," Sam refused, slipping out of his embrace. "If you're going to have any chance of actually getting custody of me, no one can think you had anything to do with what dad did."
"I'm not letting you walk across town alone!"
"Jacob and Vadim will take him," Castiel said, dropping his cigarette and choking on it with his heel. "We're going home," he added, then turned and walked toward the Mercedes, where the golem was already waiting by the open door.
Dean looked at his retreating back and at Sam.
He couldn't just leave his brother behind, but at the same time, he couldn't refuse Castiel's order, and that it was an order, there was no doubt about it. The punishment that might follow was a small thing compared to the fact that he didn't really want to upset the Alpha. They'd all learned a hard lesson, and somehow Dean sensed that Castiel's self-control and the Alpha's supposed resilience (and stubbornness) were reaching their limits.
"Sam..."
"Go." The little Alpha nodded after Cas. "I'll let you know when I get home."
"Fine, puppy," he nodded. He pulled Sam into a quick hug, and as soon as he reluctantly let go, he headed for the open door of the Mercedes.
Chapter Text
He leaned against the wall, frowning at the short flight of stairs Castiel had just climbed and disappeared from sight. He knew he had to follow anyway, and his Omega shuffled nervously over, forcing him to literally run after his Alpha and do what Omegas were supposed to do; take care of him. He wanted to do it, he really did, but he also felt so damn tired.
He put his face in his hands and rubbed his sore eyes.
Every muscle in his body, tensed in anticipation for long hours, was shaking, his eyes felt tight, as if his eyeballs would pop out of his head, and his neck burned and ached. And he felt pressure when he swallowed. I'm sure he'll have a big bruise on his neck, and as he'd just thought by accident, everyone will think it's from collar. Or worse, from Alpha himself.
Fuck that, Winchester. You've got more important things to worry about right now, he mentally reminded himself, rubbing his eyes one last time and blinking to clear the fog that had formed in front of his eyes, he glanced at the top of the stairs.
He needed to pull himself together and get Cas to bed, but first he had to get him something to eat. Preferably meat and a good portion of it, and maybe something sweet. And painkillers. Yeah, especially those. The smell of pain, tainted and stale like an old pie, lingered behind Castiel's heels and teased Dean's nose.
He took a step up the stairs and was barely on the second when there was a clatter of glass and a shrill, raspy voice:
"Der'mo!"
His heart skipped a beat and his Omega whimpered, causing him to hurry upstairs and trot into the kitchen.
He stood by the counter, carefully assessing Alpha's mood and condition as he shifted his weight from paw to paw, hesitating. His instinct was to rush over to Alpha right away, but he also knew he had to be damn careful. When Alphas were cornered or sick or in pain, they were bundles of nerves and aggression that knew nothing but growls and bites. Everyone knew that, and Dean had confirmed it with his father many times, even if he didn't rage about physical injuries as much as... well, the other ones injuries.
He took a few slow steps toward Castiel's hunched back, inhaling and assessing the bitter smell of anger and the stale pain and tension in the Alpha's back, while also trying to walk as clearly as he could. Making enough noise to get Cas's attention.
He took a breath to address Alpha with his subgender, but quickly corrected himself in his mind so that it came out half loud, soft, and questioning:
"Cas?"
As if his voice was all it took to break the taut cord that held Alpha's back erect. He let out a long breath, an unpleasant, rasping sound forced from his chest, laughing against the wall. He staggered. He wrapped one arm around his ribs and braced himself against the edge of the kitchen counter with the other.
"Cas!" He shouted this time, lunging forward.
But he didn't make it to Alpha before his legs buckled and he crumpled to a kneeling position on the tiles. At least he managed to prop himself up with his arm, giving Dean the few seconds he needed before he was on the ground with him, his arm around his shoulders. Then he draped his other arm over the one Castiel had used to hug his stomach, resting his whole body against it. He left the weight on his knees, though. He didn't want to weigh Alpha down. He just wanted to be closer. He wanted to hold him and rip out the throats of anyone who came near him. He wanted to protect him. He wanted to take care of him.
All those needs that blossomed in full force in his belly were reflected. He could smell it himself. It was strong. The soothing, sweet scent of a protective and caring Omega. It spread through the air in great waves. And with it, the air and the silence, previously broken only by Castiel's gasps, was permeated by the soft, melodic sound of a purr. He hadn't realized at first that it was him doing it, so he was surprised to feel a sound vibrating in his throat and chest that wasn't normal for him. It was strange. Unusual. But he didn't stop.
No, as he felt the Alpha lean against him, he relaxed and began to shiver at the same time. He gave himself. He trusted Dean. And Dean would be a damn fool if he didn't reciprocate and appreciate that trust.
"We need to get you showered and into bed, Cas. Da?" He spoke quietly, directly into Alpha's ear.
The only answer was a small nod.
Somewhere he found some strength, though he didn't think he had any, and lifted Alpha's heavy body back to his feet. Castiel tried to help him up and pull himself up the rope, but he couldn't do much considering his whole body was shaking. Most of his weight remained on Dean, and he took it willingly.
Step by step he followed Alpha through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
Since he had to help him undress, he had to sit him down somewhere and the only comfortable place was the closed toilet lid. So with one hand, he flipped the lid down and then led Castiel to it. The plastic creaked as Alpha's considerable weight landed on it, and Castiel leaned back against the wall with a gasp.
Dean didn't hesitate, supporting Alpha's arm and pulling his jacket off. He'd had experience with this before. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd undressed someone who was only half conscious and leaning against the wall on the toilet. Years of practice had kicked in, and as he pulled Alpha's head to his chest to remove the jacket from his back, he made sure to press his mouth into his disheveled hair. The smell of blood, of death, of suffering, and of Castiel's own pain as Dean touched him, the scent of roasted cherries and honey seeping into his scent as well. Faint, yet distinct.
"Now the shirt, luv," he murmured in his ear, pulling the sleeve from his hand first thing in the morning. He noticed that the blood had seeped through the cream-colored silk a little, and he wanted to know how bad it was. Fortunately, it looked like it was only a small leak, so he pulled off the other sleeve, too, and finally threw the shirt on the floor with the jacket. Then he'd have it cleaned or throw it away or just do something with it. It didn't matter now.
He carefully let Alpha fall back down and leaned his head against the wall.
This time, Castiel's eyes weren't closed like before. He looked at Dean from under his lowered eyelids, and his gaze, though tired, was also completely alert. At least he was far from passing out.
Dean tore off the bandage he'd wrapped around Alpha's chest yesterday. If he wanted to wash him, they had to come off and they were loose anyway. He peeled off layer after layer with ease, slowly revealing skin that was so deep purple that Alpha's tattoo was almost invisible. And not just the cross on his chest, or the justice on his belly, or the eyes peering over the edge of his low-slung pants.
The sight of that sea of blood spreading beneath Alpha's skin sent shivers down his spine and his stomach tightened with fear. Shit! This looked much worse than he'd ever imagined. He had no idea that someone's chest... Fuck! Even his back... could have been one giant bruise.
"That looks bad... I need to call a doctor - " He groaned as he started to get up, only to have a surprisingly strong arm wrap around his wrist and Alpha literally pull him to the ground.
"No," he said simply, half-loud but with such strong Alpha dominance in his voice that Dean already knew he would have no choice but to obey. "No doctor."
"You might have internal injuries. I don't know what I'd do if - " He tried, though he knew he wouldn't be able to go against Alpha's will, even if Castiel asked him to do something stupid. But he had to try.
"I don't trust the doctors. I trust you," Castiel interrupted him a second time, releasing his grip to lean back against the wall. "You'll take care of me," he added. It was half an order, but half a simple statement of fact.
Dean clenched his jaw in a wave of anger he couldn't let go. Stupid, stubborn Alpha! If Dean hadn't been an Omega, he could have just grabbed the idiot and dragged him to the nearest emergency room. He had the strength to do that.
But he was a damn Omega, so he had to obey, even if he didn't want to. He couldn't ignore the hard pressure in his head. Not now.
"Fine. I'll take care of it, but you'll do what I tell you," he couldn't forgive himself for at least that much.
"Vlastnyy..." growled Castiel, flashing his golden fang while sounding amused.
Dean wasn't sure what he was saying, but given the context, it was probably something like 'bossy' or maybe 'annoying', either way...
"Yeah, I am," he replied sovereignly, to Castiel's mild surprise, which made the corners of his eyes lift, and then added to his amusement: "Get used to it, because that's how you chose me, and I'm yours for life. Whether you like it or not."
The Alpha showed a hint of teeth in a soft smile that warmed Dean and took away some of his worries. As always, it was almost absurd how happy he could make his Alpha.
Oh, shit...with that strange feeling of satisfaction at a job well done, he dropped to the floor and pulled off Castiel's socks. Then he moved to his pants and quickly unzipped them as well. With a sigh of pain, the Alpha, who had been sitting motionless until that moment, lifted himself up and allowed Dean to pull his pants and boxers off his hips. This revealed another series of bruises running down Alpha's thighs.
It was almost incomprehensible how he could walk or even stand with all this on, let alone act as if nothing had happened. He probably didn't have a choice, Dean guessed, but still... he was a damn fool for not at least telling him. He was his Omega, after all.
"Din...?" came from above him, questioning.
Cold, thin fingers rested under his chin, lifting his face to Castiel's questioning, tilted head and piercing eyes. Those eyes that so often could tell what he was thinking with just a glance. So he chose to pull away from the gentle grip and stand.
"Let's get you into the shower."
He grabbed Case under the elbow and used his other arm to steady him around the waist to help him up, but the Alpha managed to stand on his own. Slowly, and he seemed to be completely unsteady on his feet, but surprisingly he was in almost no pain at all. Or at least Dean couldn't smell it through his own scent, which, like the scent of melting sugar and apple blossoms, permeated the air in the bathroom to such an extent that even the air conditioning couldn't dispel it. It was like drowning in a sea of sweetness for him as well. Almost disgusting. And quite embarrassing, to be honest. He had no idea that he could produce such a strong smell, and he didn't know how to stop it, but Castiel didn't seem to mind.
He leaned back against Dean, actually tilting his head so that he could inhale his scent directly from his scent gland in deep, sniffing breaths all the way to the shower. It was... terribly intimate and yet not arousing. Well, at least no more than any other time. The fact that his cock was half hard in his pants almost every time he had Alpha in his arms was so common by now that he hardly paid attention to it. He only remembered it now because it seemed somehow out of place, because despite all the sweet Omega scent, he could still smell blood and Alastair alone.
He pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose at the thought of the creepy bastard.
He'd be rid of his scent in no time, all he had to do was gently help Castiel under the shower and steer him to a wall he could lean against, then he could pull off his t-shirt and shirt at once. A quick stripping of his jeans, and finally, with a little acrobatics, his socks, and he was finally able to get into the shower stall behind Alpha.
Under the watchful gaze of Castiel's bright blue lagoon eyes, which followed his every move from beneath his squinted eyelids, he set the temperature and turned on the water. He quickly checked the water with his hand, as if it might be too hot or too cold, before helping Alpha under the stream of water that spurted from the ceiling about halfway into the shower.
He had to take most of the weight, as Cas was even more precarious on the wet floor than he was on the dry tiles, but the long, satisfied exhalation with a hint of a grunt that escaped Alpha's lips was the perfect reward for all his efforts.
He tilted his head and allowed himself the luxury of letting the warm water wash over his face and hair, washing away the blood and stench that had clung to him for the past two days. And he also enjoyed the way Cas undulated in his hands, finally resting his forehead on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his back.
With a sigh, he tilted his head and kissed his wet hair, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck himself, where the warm water washed away the smell of pain and anger and stress, leaving only Alpha's wonderful scent of freshly baked cherry pie with honey and almond crumble. It was so damn good. I wished he could smell it for hours. To drown in that scent, lulling his Omega into a steady purr that perfectly matched the soothing hum of the water.
Unfortunately, he had to take care of himself as well as Alpha, so he reluctantly pulled away and reached for the soap and washcloth, despite Castiel's growling protests.
He had a hell of a lot of work to do before he could mock them both for anything that wasn't their own, shared scent.
°°0°°
Lightly and carefully, he wrapped the large white towel around Alpha's shoulders and across his chest, transforming him into a fluffy cocoon of cotton, behind which jutted skinny, tattooed legs missing half their toes, and a head with a sharp profile and hair that, though wet, still stood out in all directions.
In every deep wrinkle around Alpha's eyes and lips... in the clouds rolling over the bright blue lagoon of his eyes... in the way his shoulders hunched and he seemed smaller than ever... in all of it, there was a weariness and a kind of submission that he couldn't imagine in Castiel's case. He was a true Alpha. One who would never submit, even if it meant his death. It was an attitude with which he could impress Dean's Omega, so to see him here now, so submissive and resigned to the care he was receiving, should... logically... repel his inner Omega. But the opposite was true.
His chest tightened with waves of instinctive desire to care for Alpha, but also with pride and possessiveness. Alpha did submit, but only to him. It was a sign of absolute trust, not weakness. Dean was his Omega, the only person he trusted enough to allow himself to be weak in front of him. It was fucking amazing and painful at the same time. Shit. It brought tears to his eyes.
Pull yourself together, Winchester, he ordered, blinking away the tears.
"Bed now, honey." He smiled.
Alpha remained silent, as he had for most of the shower. He let the towel fall from his shoulders to his waist, where he casually wrapped it around his waist to keep it from falling, and walked to the door.
Dean was there first, opening it for him and letting him through. Frowning, he saw that his back was covered in a patch of bruises that looked like he'd fallen from a great height onto something hard. He'd almost thought it was a car, because the shards he'd pulled out of Alpha's hair in the shower, as well as a couple of gashes on his neck, were definitely from the windshield of a more modern car. There was unbreakable film in it. Where and from where could he have fallen onto the damn car? He certainly hadn't fallen through the window, because that would have been a much bigger cut.
"Wait... careful," he interrupted his thoughts to catch Cas wobbling as he tried to climb into bed.
Their Nest bed didn't have the long side padding of the one in the old apartment, but it was there, and now it was an unnecessary obstacle. And all those pillows... they were all wrong and just in the way. What did they have them for if he wasn't going to nest anyway. Not that the pile could remotely be considered a real nest. It looked like a nest some Beta had made to be photographed for the home magazines. The real nest was supposed to look a little messy and therefore homey. The pillows should represent something. Somehow important. Not this collection of brown and beige pillows, stacked according to size at the head of the bed. From the biggest in the middle to the smallest at the sides, and then some of those thin noodles that... well, they weren't so bad, he could hug them at night, but that didn't mean they were something he'd chosen for his nest. Though they might come in handy now.
He pulled one over and placed it next to Alpha, who had just laid down with a deep sigh. He pulled the pillow noodle close to him, but not so close that it pressed against him, and moved his hand over it.
He pulled away, briefly meeting the questioning and slightly confused look Cas was giving him from under his tiredly lowered eyelids.
He didn't know what to say and felt a little uncomfortable with what he was doing, though he didn't know why. He just wanted to ease Alpha's pain by making sure he didn't fall sideways in the night. There was nothing strange about it. Rather, it was... it was a strange, itchy feeling in his body that urged him to grab the nearest pillow and do... something.
He wasn't sure what the hell to do, so he just held it and stared at it indecisively, feeling more and more uncomfortable in the growing silence of the room. His Omega, however, grunted in agreement. According to her, he was well on his way to... Fuck it! This was the urge to nest. The real, unadulterated one, coming from the primitive depths of his brain, where his Omega lived. An urge he hadn't felt with such force in years.
"Dean?" Castiel broke what had probably been too long a silence.
Dean looked up at him, clutched his pillow, and blurted out:
"I've got to build a damn nest or I'll go crazy!"
"Khorosha, dorogoy."
"I know it's stupid and pointless, but just--"
"Omega," Alpha interrupted, using his subgender, which always got Dean's full attention. "I say fine. Do what you desire to do," he added wearily, yet the corners of his lips lifted in that soft smile Dean knew was his alone, and the sweet scent of roasted cherries and honey filled the air, overpowering the constant stream of stale pain spontaneously escaping from Castiel's pores.
Dean's heart quickened. His Alpha seemed to want the nest, or at least he liked the idea of it. That was a bit unexpected and strange, because especially with Cas, it would seem at first glance that he would consider the nest a waste, but then again... Come to think of it... Castiel had actually given him not only space, but nesting material all along. He was doing what was normal for an Alpha who wanted to attract and settle down with his chosen Omega. Technically, the Alpha's father was supposed to do that, too, at least in the movies, but...well, dad just wasn't the type. Besides, where do you nest when you're living in your car and around motels, right?
But with Cas... with Cas it was different.
He could have made a nest here.
He just didn't know how to do it right.
He looked hesitantly at the pillow in his hands and then at himself. Yeah, Winchester, you look absolutely gorgeous and fit, standing next to the bed completely naked with nothing but a pillow on your chest. I'm sure that's how every Omega approached building a nest, he added mentally with an amused grin.
Then he took a breath and did what he normally didn't do. He let that part of his instincts work. He let his Omega take on a life of its own and do what it wanted. And in a way, he looked at himself and rationally assessed what he was doing as he picked up each pillow, turned it in his hands, and sniffed it from all sides. Some smelled more like Castiel, the ones on his side of the bed of course, others more like Dean, and a few shared a common scent. But most were so far away from them that they didn't smell of anything, and they could stay there. Like an outer wall protecting the comfortable, scented nesting place where his wounded Alpha was hidden. And that was exactly where he should be. Surrounded on all sides, except for the one place Dean had kept for himself.
He paused at the foot of the bed and examined his handiwork with a critical eye.
His Nest looked like... well, like a pile of beige pillows arranged in an oval around the center of the bed. It wasn't exactly a masterpiece. It lacked personality. Some of the pillows were printed or oddly shaped. He wouldn't have minded something small that smelled like his puppy, though he was pretty sure Castiel wouldn't be entirely comfortable with that. It would also be nice to have a place to stash the candy within reach, and he should have hidden the gun better since the butt was sticking out between the pillows, but all in all... he did what he could with what little he had, as always, and while his Omega and he had some reservations, he felt satisfied overall.
The obsessive, almost itchy feeling was gone, replaced by something close to peace. There was only one thing left to do.
He climbed onto the bed and crawled on all fours to the spot he had chosen for himself. He was careful not to disturb the edges of the nest, which didn't go down well. In the end, he had to adjust them anyway, before he finally lay down on his side and snuggled up to his Alpha.
He licked his lips.
"So...?" He said the single, vague word, feeling an almost suffocating need to get praise from his Alpha for the nest he'd made. Realizing how stupid that would look, and feeling humiliated just for wanting Castiel's praise, he limited himself to that one word, which could be interpreted any way he wanted.
And he waited with bated breath for an answer that came and did not come. Cas remained silent, not even growling, which was unusual. He could listen quietly for what seemed like hours, but it wasn't as if he had stopped perceiving. He didn't. He was aware, there was always a sharp sparkle in his eyes, and he remembered everything.
Dean frowned, and the fear caused by the need for recognition turned into one caused by worry. Slowly, he raised his hand and placed his fingers on Alpha's exposed neck. Castiel didn't move when he touched it, but thankfully, he could feel a pulse beneath his fingertips. Regular and slow. So he moved his hand under Alpha's nose to check that he was breathing, and finally, just to be sure, he placed his palm on his slowly rising chest. His breathing was shallow but regular, and the musty pain was slowly fading from his scent, replaced by a slight sweetness.
The Alpha was sleeping. Damn deep, so he didn't wake up even when Dean touched him, but it was just sleep. That calmed him.
He left his hand on Castiel's chest and laid his head on the pillow next to his face. He had intended to keep an eye on him, listening carefully to his breathing and watching the vein pulsing in his neck, but his eyelids dropped quickly with fatigue and before he even realized it, the warm darkness of sleep surrounded him.
Chapter Text
Something jolted Dean out of his sleep. He sat up abruptly, all his senses alert, and looked around their room. The blinds were already open and the sun was on the horizon, heading west, but the light didn't come on when he sat up. That meant it wasn't time for Castiel's usual wake-up call. So it was just before three in the afternoon. But what day? He wasn't sure, nor was he sure what had woken him.
It was quiet all around. Cas was breathing hoarsely at his side, stretched out in the same pose as before, only he'd shifted his leg so that Dean had it over his right shin now. Nothing was wrong, so why had he suddenly woken up like this?
The distant sound of the front door bell shattered the wonderful quiet of their lair
Well, that was probably the reason. Someone was ringing, and probably not for the first time.
He had two choices, he could lie back in his warm nest and ignore the intruder until he left. Or he could get up and see who it was. A quick glance at the sleeping Alpha, and especially the sound of his breathing, convinced him that he had to get up. Cas needed his rest, and whoever was at the door, wanting whatever it was, could wait. Sure, yes, the Bratva's affairs were important and Castiel would surely say they took precedence over everything, but a dead Authority wouldn't solve anything either and there was nothing more important than Alpha's health besides the arresting cops.
So he carefully freed his leg and quietly rolled out of the nest, and even though he was in a hurry, he didn't forget to fix the side wall of the nest he had broken when he left. He did it automatically. I mean, partially, somewhere in the middle he realized he was doing it and it seemed a little silly to rush, but he finished it anyway. His Omega acknowledged it with a satisfied grunt.
He didn't feel like getting dressed, so for lack of other options, he grabbed Alpha's robe in the bathroom and headed for the door, wrapping himself in it.
He pushed the button on the door panel to look out into the hallway to see who it was, and was unpleasantly surprised. Balthazar's slender figure appeared on the screen, dressed in one of his tight-fitting styles, this time complemented by a looser jacket that came down to his knees.
He was the last person in the world he wanted to see after the events of the past few days, but if he wanted to make sure Cas got a good sleep, he would have to send Beta away himself.
With a sigh, he fished the door card out of his jacket, swiped it through the reader and punched in today's code. The locks clicked, allowing him to open the door and scowl at Balthazar's face.
"You? I didn't expect you here," Beta said instead of greeting him.
Where the hell else would Dean be? This was Castiel's lair and he was his Omega, he had a damn nest here too. He belonged here. And in fact, the only one who didn't belong anywhere near his Alpha was Balthazar.
"What do you want, Balthazar?" He asked without preamble. If Beta didn't have the decency to say hello, it wasn't going to be Dean who was going to rub his mouth.
"To talk to Castiel," Beta replied, lifting his gaze, still fixed on Dean's neck - it took some effort to roll up the collar of his robe or not place his hand on his neck - beyond his shoulder, somewhere vaguely flat.
"He's busy," he replied neutrally, definitely not wanting to say he was asleep and somehow imply he was vulnerable. "What do you want him to do?"
"We have a little nuisance at the club that needs to be resolved before we open."
An issue at Blue Sky? What could be a problem at Night Alpha Club? Probably a broken ice crusher or a bad batch of limes. Nothing worth waking Cas from the sound sleep he so desperately needed.
"Oukey. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he promised, moving the door to close it in front of Beta, who caught it with his hand.
A warning growl slipped from his lips before he even realized he was angry at Balthazar's behavior. It was strong, resonating through his chest, and in no way comparable to the growl of the equally aged Alpha. And it had enough of an effect on Beta to make him move his hand away and straighten up a bit, moving away without actually taking a step back.
"You want to handle this alone?" Beta asked, not failing to sound mockingly skeptical, of course, though not as effusive as he might have been at other times. Either he was genuinely intimidated by Dean's growl, or he'd learned his lesson from the beating he'd taken at the hands of Castiel's men.
"Yeah. I'm the owner now, and I'm not going to bother Castiel with every little stupid thing. I'll handle it myself. I'm a big boy now," he couldn't forgive himself for a certain smirk, and this time he successfully slammed the door in Balthazar's face.
He returned to the bedroom and stood in the doorway, quiet and still, listening to Cas's slow, slightly wheezing, but regular breathing. He was sleeping so deeply that he wasn't woken by the doorbell or Dean's conversation with Balthazar, and that was a good thing.
He walked quietly through the bedroom to the closet and closed the door behind himself.
He threw on some clothes, including the burgundy shirt Castiel liked on him, and after a moment's thought, took the SIG from the secret arsenal. He didn't think there would be any trouble, but after what happened with Alastair, he definitely felt better with a gun on his hip.
Finally, he looked at himself in the mirror and had to frown at his reflection.
The bruises on his neck, which had been purple yesterday, were now almost black, and not only did they make him look like someone was trying to strangle him - which they were - but they also covered Castiel's mark, which normally peeked out from under the collar of his T-shirt. That was far more disturbing than the fact that the evidence that he might as well have died yesterday was glowing on his neck.
The Alpha Mark meant that he belonged to Castiel. That he was owned by Castiel. No, he didn't put it on display like some other Omegas, but he didn't actively hide it either, and if someone on the street or at school stared at it, he looked them in the eye and smiled. After weeks of having to wear a collar that also got stared at, this attention was nothing.
The collar...
He frowned at one of the drawers of the jewelry box where Castiel had put his collar after Dean had finally been able to take it off. The Alpha hadn't said anything about wanting him to wear it then, and he certainly hadn't forced him to, but the fact that he'd kept it and kept it in a place of honor meant something.
Dean opened the corresponding drawer and stared at his collar, which lay on the stand meant for necklaces (when had Cas bought that stand?). He allowed himself a moment's hesitation before removing the collar and absently began to run his thumb over the soft green silk and the softening underneath. Then he ran his fingers over the silver emblem as well and... paused.
He hadn't really considered volunteering for the collar, had he? He wasn't that kind of Omega. The obedient one who wore collars and cooked and cleaned and pushed out puppy after puppy. He didn't want to wear a damn collar because it was humiliating. And he certainly didn't need it to prove to someone that he had an Alpha and to make him feel like he belonged, except...
He clenched the collar and his jaws and looked at himself in the mirror.
Except that was exactly what he was thinking.
Fuck it!
He tossed the collar back into the drawer, then abruptly closed it. He turned his back on it and headed for Blue Sky.
°°0°°
He slid the card through the slot, opened it, walked in and looked around.
The lights were on full blast, vague piano music drifted softly from hidden speakers, blending with the distant hum of air conditioning and powerful air purifiers. The smell was mostly ozone with a hint of mixed Alpha smells, though five waitresses sat at a long table across from the bar, along with a Beta unknown to Dean, and Balthazar stood behind the bar stirring something.
"So what happened?" Dean asked without further ado as he approached the bar. His eyes glanced over the waitresses. Three of them he recognized well, two of them were the ones Alpha had helped to choose and the third had picked him up at the reception when he'd first come here. The first of the other two he didn't know was dark-haired, rather petite, with olive-brown skin and dark brown eyes, and the last was a redhead, a little freckled, with beautiful big lips and a cute button-like nose. All five of them were carrying piles of small bags and filling them with pink pills from a large bowl. Two in each bag.
From the color, Dean guessed it might be Tusi.
"And who the hell are you?" the unknown Beta asked in a Russian accent that was now familiar to Dean as he rose from the couch.
Dean turned to him and met his gaze.
He was slightly shorter than himself, neither thin nor fat, but not muscular either. His face was an unnatural brown from spending too much time in the tanning bed, his hair was light, and he wore shiny cowboy boots and ripped jeans, but also a pink shirt and jacket. With gold accessories, including earrings in both ears, he looked like a combination of Beach Ken and cowboy. Of all the styles he'd seen on Alpha men, this was somehow, mysteriously, the worst. It even surpassed Yuri's overpriced sweatsuits. It was probably because Beta looked like he'd been cut in half.
"Club owner. And who are you?" He returned the same question and leaned back against the bar, one eyebrow raised in question.
Beta showed him his teeth in a sneer and wow! He really needed a manual on how to take care of his teeth, including detailed instructions on how to use interdental brushes, because his mouth looked like it had been robbed.
"Good joke, Sugar, but the poor guy wouldn't hire someone like you as a cleaning lady. You're an Omega, and an ugly one at that," Beta replied mockingly and stepped towards Dean with an outstretched arm, presumably to grab his elbow and lead him out. He knew exactly the look on Beta's face and the way he was approaching him.
He didn't let it get to the point where the guy touched him. In a learned move, he grabbed his forearm and slammed it against the bar.
Beta hissed in pain and smelled the faint scent of anger, then made a move for the gun that rested in a holster at his waist. A handsome leather one with an embossed pattern that looked like something out of a western. Dean really liked it, and the revolver Beta was about to pull out would probably be nice too, but Dean wouldn't let him go that far.
He had his gun in his hand before and pressed the barrel under the guy's chin.
"I wouldn't try that, buddy," he warned him calmly, because no, he didn't really feel threatened, just irritated. "I've had a rough couple of days and I'm really not in a good mood, so it would be no problem at all to blow the head off some idiot who doesn't know who I am. Do we understand each other?" he asked, but didn't really wait for an answer, just pushed Beta as far away from him as he could, letting go and dropping the barrel of his gun to the ground. He was pretty sure he'd be able to aim and fire before this cocky guy pulled his gun.
"Who the hell do you think you are, ty urodlivaya suka?" Beta spat back, figuratively, but for some reason really. What was he doing in a stable? This was the New York Alpha Club, not a stable. And the way he was talking to Dean... Was he crazy or did he want to die or at least have his teeth knocked out? Because, dude, no one dared talk to him like that in all the time he'd been at Castiel's side. They all knew he belonged with Castiel, and they wouldn't dare.
"Dude... really?" He asked, actually in genuine disbelief. "Seriously, you don't know who I am? Have you been in a coma or behind bars?"
Beta sucked in a breath, probably to spit out another curse word or something, when, oddly enough, Balthazar, who had been watching the whole spectacle from behind the bar, stepped in, strawberry martini glass in hand.
"Incredible as it may seem, young Mr. Winchester here has been the owner of the club for about... um... almost three weeks now," he said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his martini before continuing, "and he lives upstairs."
While the confirmation that Dean was indeed the owner of Blue Sky had surprised Beta a bit, but hadn't really thrown her off balance, the mention of him living in Castiel's apartment had completely changed Beta's attitude.
Literally.
He straightened and stepped back, his hands as far away from his gun as possible, of course, and his expression and the way he looked at Dean changed to the familiar reserved politeness with which most Alpha men approached him.
"My apologies, Mr. Winchester. I didn't know you were Batyushka's Omelub. I thought you were... older," he said, actually apologetically.
Dean frowned slightly. Of course he didn't like the allusion to his age, for one thing, and for another he had no idea what the hell an 'Omelub' was, but honestly... it didn't sound like an insult. Maybe it was the Russian equivalent of 'hubby', which itself might not be an insult if said with affection. Not that a stranger could really say it affectionately, but let's just say it was a change from 'whore' to something better, so Dean decided to take it that way.
"Yeah, as you can see, I'm not older," he replied in a neutral tone, deliberately neither accepting the apology nor making light of Betas's transgression by claiming that nothing had happened. Instead, he turned back to Balthazar, ignoring Beta, and asked again, "So, what's going on?"
"We've got a little problem in the toilets," Balthazar replied, pushing away from the bar and heading for a pair of doors Dean had long since assumed were the bathrooms, glass still in hand.
He tucked the SIG back into his belt and followed him, the other Beta following quietly behind.
Napoleon opened the door and let him in first.
For a bathroom, albeit in a fancy Alpha club, the room was pretty damn big. Not as big as their bathroom, but definitely big enough for someone to live in. There was even a couch and a table. Who needed a couch in the bathroom? And the live flowers that stood next to the sinks were set in a marble countertop that was the perfect color to match the cream high pile carpet.
All in all, a perfect display of luxury, including the size and amenities of the stall itself, which Dean peered into through the half-open door. The whole scene was marred by one small detail: a dead waitress lying under the sink.
And he didn't doubt for a moment that she was dead. Her fingers were dug into the carpet in convulsions, her eyes bulging, her face pale, and her uniform torn around her neck as if she was trying to rip it off to make it easier to breathe. That was bad. Definitely a lot worse than a broken ice machine.
"What happened here?" He turned to the two Betas standing behind him in the doorway, as far away from the dead as possible and well out of Dean's reach. "She..." he glanced quickly at the dead woman and then at the others sitting at the table, packing drugs and glancing at them now and then out of the corner of their eye. "Did she overdose on whatever she was packing?"
He considered that the most likely possibility, because Beta, lying on the floor, had definitely not died of a heart attack. She was too young for that. She could have been... how old? Under twenty-five or so. Girls... women that young didn't just die in toilets, unless they overdosed.
The cowboy looked at Balthazar, who was casually leaning sideways against the door, sipping his martini as if looking for some kind of answer or advice on what to do, and since he didn't get it, he made a sound similar to clearing his throat, took a small step forward, and finally spoke, much more politely than he had at first. He even tried to enunciate better.
"No, she didn't take anything. I know that for a fact. I keep a close eye on her, and she knows where she'd go if she stole anything."
"So what happened?" He repeated his question with growing impatience; he was tired, his throat and especially his voice were aching, and his stomach was growling. A combination that certainly didn't make him patient - as if he was ever patient - not to mention the fact that his Omega was whimpering and wanted to go back upstairs to the Alpha in nest.
"And don't tell me you don't know. You must know something. Young girls don't just die," he added when none of the Betas answered.
"All I know is that she went to the bathroom and got some water on the way back. Then she kept working until she said she was sick and ran out here," Cowboy said, nodding his head vaguely in the direction of the room behind Dean. "I thought she was pregnant, so I came over here to count her. When I opened the door, she was writhing on the floor in convulsions. Before I could do anything, she was over. I didn't even touch her! I swear!" He emphasized, holding his hands up, palms out. "I know how to handle girls, and I would never damage Batyushka's first-class stunts."
Dean pursed his lips. There was always something about the way Beta talked about servers, and especially this dead one, that made his stomach churn and brought back unpleasant memories of the time he'd seen what it meant to 'count' something to a girl. But he said nothing, trying not to let on. The good thing was that he didn't have to pay attention to his scent, because Betas didn't notice scent nuances at all, or only when the change was strong and pronounced. He could feel comfortable with that. He wasn't so sure about his expression, though, so he preferred to turn back to the corpse, frowning and examining it from head to toe.
He could trust Beta not to hit her. Beaten people only got convulsions if they had brain damage from wounds, and such wounds would be obvious on the head. She could have overdosed, that was still the most likely. Or...
He moved next to the body, crouched down, and after a moment's hesitation, grabbed her chin and turned her face toward him. It was hard, as if she was starting to stiffen, but since she was still warm, that wasn't possible. From what he remembered of his dad's lessons, if a dead person was warm and stiff, it meant they had died in convulsions. That would fit Cowboy's story. And also the overdose version, but also the much more disturbing version, which was unfortunately suggested by the thin foam on Beta's lip. And when he pulled back her red-painted lip, he saw the purple color of her gums and the inside of her mouth.
He was almost certain what had happened to her, but he needed one last confirmation.
Slowly, he leaned in as close to her lips as he could and took a deep breath.
"What's he doing?" Cowboy heard a disapproving whisper above him, probably from Balthazar.
He ignored it and sniffed.
He could smell her very faint Beta scent, distantly reminiscent of boiled carrots. Also sweat, a lot of sweat, fear and anxiety, both really strong, even if it was Beta. And then the smell of bitter almonds and tonic.
Oh, shit! Fuck!
His suspicion was confirmed. Her mouth smelled of cyanide and tonic. The combination was the most terrifying part, freezing his stomach in an icy fist and making his Omega growl protectively.
Someone. Some bastard, maybe a rival or devil knew who, all of whom hated Castiel, had put poison in the tonic. And it was the kind of poison that Alpha wouldn't have smelled even if his sense of smell hadn't been clouded by two packs of cigarettes a day, because the scent of bitter almonds was part of his natural scent, and as we know, a person's perception of their own scent was only slightly distorted. He wouldn't have known it from the catch, because the tonic was bitter, and so was the gin. Not that it mattered. Cyanide was damn strong and fast. By the time a doctor got to Castiel, he'd be dead. He'd die the same way that waitress had; in pain and convulsions. Choking.
A dark growl escaped Dean's lips despite his best efforts to hold it back, and he began to tingle horribly with the compulsive need to rip the throat out of whoever wanted to hurt his Alpha. To protect him. His Omega bristled, ready to go on the warpath.
He rose abruptly, clenched his fists, and turned to the Betas watching him.
The sight of them calmed him. Or rather, what calmed him down and made him think before he acted. At the same time, he didn't even know what to do or who to kill. Many thoughts and considerations were running through his mind. For example, the fact that the tonic must have been poisoned by someone on the inside, because who else could have gotten to it, and he also knew that gin and tonic was Castiel's drink of choice. In fact, if Dad hadn't shown up out of the blue and gone to take out Alastair and his gang, Blue Sky wouldn't have been closed for two days and that bottle of tonic might have killed Cas two days ago.
"Show me the glass she drank from," he ordered as calmly as he could, walking between the Betas to the table where the other waitresses were still busy filling bags as if nothing was happening around them and one of them wasn't dead.
When he got close enough to the table, he realized why they hadn't stopped working. Even for Betas, they all had a faint, faint smell that reminded him of things like pumpkin, potatoes... just something bland and unremarkable. At the same time, there was a smell of fear around the table, which strangely enough intensified when Dean approached the table. Almost as if they were afraid of him as well.
"This one," Cowboy said, picking up one of the glasses on the table.
Dean took it, glanced at it - it contained a fizzy, clear liquid - and finally took a sniff. Beneath the bitter scent of the tonic, his sensitive Omega nose detected bitter almonds. It was certain. She had poisoned herself with this glass of tonic.
Wordlessly, with his jaw clenched to control his anger and not give anyone here a clue that he suspected them of attempted murder, he walked behind the bar and poured the glass into the sink under the bar. There was no point in leaving the tonic behind. As if they could call the police to collect evidence. It sounded ridiculous.
"I want you to pour out all the tonic that's in here," he ordered. Getting rid of the danger was the most important thing right now. Who was responsible for the attempted murder of Alpha would be dealt with later. Well, Alpha would deal with it, and Dean was sure he would deal with it effectively and ruthlessly.
"That's five hundred bottles. It won't be cheap and it'll take a while, but I'll take care of it," Balthazar said, oddly without a hint of snark or protest.
"Why would we do that anyway? What's tonic got to do with that overdosed chick?" Cowboy asked. Apparently, like most of Castiel's men, he hadn't thought twice about giving brains away.
"First of all, she didn't overdose," he said emphatically. "She was poisoned."
"You can't know that for sure," Beta Cowboy countered, because... Dean didn't really know why he was contradicting him. Was he blind?
"They killed her with cyanide. Didn't you see the foam on her mouth and lips?" He asked irritably, for even from a distance they both must have seen it when he pulled the waitress's lip away. The flat look Beta gave him spoke for itself. Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "She had purple gums and lips. Purple means the hemoglobin in her blood stopped binding oxygen to itself. That happens most often when a substance that forms stronger chemical bonds than oxygen binds to it. Like cyanide. The person suffocates... on a chemical level. Now do you get it, cowboy?" He asked impatiently, throwing his hands out to support his words. "This is high school chemistry. Don't they teach that stuff in Russia?"
"But why tonic...?"
"Gin and tonic is Batyushka's drink of choice," Balthazar answered for him, putting down his glass and turning to Dean with uncharacteristic seriousness. "I'll have the gin poured as well. Just in case," he said before turning to the girls and calling out to them. "Drop what you're doing and go to the storeroom and get all the tonic and gin. And then pour it down the drain here. Comprenez-vous, les poules?"
Dean's knowledge of French totaled four hours, but he understood the beginning of the sentence. It meant "you understand me" or something. The teacher repeated it every time she asked him a question in French and wanted him to understand and answer her. How the hell could she think he would understand her when the only French word he knew at the time was 'merde', which meant shit.
What the rest was, he had no idea, but either way, the waitresses understood Balthazar and obeyed him without protest or hesitation. And soon they were carrying one paper crate after another out the door behind the bar and began pouring tiny bottles of tonic into the sink under the bar.
Dean was most interested in the bottle the dead waitress had poured from, so when one of the girls was about to dump the first bottle, he reached into the open and thankfully empty trash can and pulled out both the bottle and the cap. The Beta gave him a quick look, but said nothing, and when he returned her gaze, she quickly lowered her eyes. He wasn't quite used to this kind of behavior, usually he was the one who was expected to lower his eyes, and if he hadn't known that Beta avoided eye contact out of fear, it would have even been pleasant, but like this...
He frowned a little. It was silly to bring this up now, he preferred to take a quick look at the bottle. It was undamaged, of course. He hadn't even expected to find anything on it. Then he lifted the cap against the light and rolled it between his fingers a few times before he finally spotted something strange in the decorative lettering. It looked like dirt. A drop of dried tonic. Nothing that couldn't be on the bottle, but when he scraped it off with his fingernail, he found that there was a small hole underneath. Someone had drilled a hole in the cap, injected what was probably a cyanide solution, and then sealed the cap with glue. It was done perfectly. No one would have been able to tell at first glance.
He tossed the bottle back in the trash and walked over to the package of tonic that had already been opened when the waitresses brought it from stock. He picked up one of the unopened bottles and looked at the cap. It had the same carefully covered hole as the first bottle.
Fuck it!
This wasn't just an attack on Alpha, this was an attack on Blue Sky. If they opened it tonight, several guests might die. And that would have huge fucking consequences. Dean knew that. He wasn't stupid. It would mean an investigation here at the club, logically the cops would be interested in the owner and the former owner, which would lead them to the Bratva...
Seriously! Fuck that!
"We need to check all the bottles we have in storage. Check the lids," he turned to Balthazar, and by extension Cowboy, showing them the bottle and especially the covered opening. "Or throw it all away."
"We'll check," said Balthazar, who was strangely suddenly serious and definitely more cooperative than Castiel's man, who clearly didn't know what to do. "But throwing everything out would mean shutting down for two or three days before we could restock. That's a huge loss."
"A dead guest would be a bigger problem," he replied.
Beta had no argument for that, but he raised an eyebrow in a light-hearted challenge to Dean.
He had to admit that yes, getting rid of everything would mean shutting down and taking losses. The inspection would take hours again and maybe not everything would make it to the opening. The best option was somewhere in between.
"Postpone tonight's opening until you've checked everything," he finally decided, putting down his bottle of tonic and stepping out from behind the bar. "If it's not done by midnight, keep it closed tonight."
"What about the body in the toilets?" Balthazar asked.
Dean took a quick look at the bathroom door. The good thing was that cyanide victims usually didn't leave much of a mess. No vomit or blood. But the smell of death and bitter almonds might remain, as well as the piss and shit that usually came out of a dead body. So removing the body would probably be okay, the smell would be worse.
"The body needs to be cleaned up," he said to Cowboy.
"Da. I'll take care of it," Beta nodded; at least he was useful in a way.
"But keep the bathroom closed for the day."
"The guests won't like that," Balthazar pointed out.
"They may, but they'll like stepping over a dead body or smelling a dead smell even less. Which reminds me..." he frowned. "I shouldn't stay too long, lest my scent linger. This club is an Omega-free zone."
Personally, he didn't think his scent had really stuck to anything at that moment, after all, it wasn't his first time here and as far as he knew, no one had complained, but it was a good excuse to get out of here and back to his nest. There was one more thing though...
"I want you to do something else," he turned to the cowboy. "Some food from the Doll. Borscht or something. Tell Ulay... Ulia... well, just tell the cook it's for Batya-sha. She know what he likes. And make sure it's plenty, especially meat and something sweet," he instructed, but left the exact selection up to the doll cook. He knew Cas liked tuna sandwiches and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, double burgers and sausage and pepperoni pizza, but he guessed he'd go for something Russian now. Something homey, and since all he knew of Russian food was borscht, beef soup, and Russian yeast pancakes, he had no choice but to leave it to someone who knew Alpha's tastes when it came to Russian food. He was also kind of hoping that they could deliver some of that great, homemade pie from the Doll. Oh, my God! Damn it! He would have a pie.
"And some pie," he ordered, hoping that if they couldn't get it at Doll, they could get it somewhere else. "Oukey?"
"Oukey. We'll bring it up," Cowboy nodded.
"Good," Dean said contentedly and started for the door, eager to get back to Cas as soon as possible, but then he ran out of things to do, so he stopped and turned around. "Oh, and when you deliver the food, I want to hear that the body is gone. Okay?"
"Absolutely, boss," Cowboy agreed obediently, which was really satisfying.
Dean smiled in satisfaction and was about to leave when Beta Cowboy stopped him.
"And... boss... for earlier. I'm sorry. I really didn't know who you were..." he paused for a moment and took a step towards Dean. "It was just a misunderstanding. So I hope it can stay between us."
Keeping his face neutral, he met Beta's gaze and, more importantly, subtly tasted the air. The bad thing was that the air conditioning worked really well here, and Cowboy had a rather faint scent, even for Beta. As far as he could tell, though, Beta had heard about what happened when someone didn't treat Dean the way they should, and he had no interest in getting on the wrong side of Castiel's fangs. And frankly, Dean didn't want to either. He didn't want, and more importantly, didn't need, the Alpha to handle everything for him, especially little squabbles like this one with his men. He didn't want the men to see him as a toy or a pet of their boss.
"As far as I'm concerned, it's settled," he replied curtly, turning and heading for the exit, determined not to come back this time, so he didn't even look back when Cowboy called out his thanks.
Chapter Text
When he finally closed the door of their apartment behind him and locked it carefully, he leaned against it with a sigh and raked his hair.
As long as he was downstairs, he knew he couldn't show fear, but here and now...? His heart suddenly began to beat wildly, and a surge of panic made him jerk away from the door and run to his bedroom.
He stopped in the doorway and froze, listening carefully for Cas's breathing. A nice inhale and exhale. Slow, regular. In and out. He tried to mimic the slow rhythm of his breathing, and the cold pressure that had been crushing his spine and pressing down on his shoulders like the weight of a large boulder eased.
His Omega grunted in agreement as he finally moved again, quietly walking over to the bed, kicking off his boots and climbing onto the soft mattress. Carefully, he crawled over to the edge of the nest, almost acrobatically getting over it this time without breaking it, and slowly dropped onto his stomach next to Alpha.
He turned his head so he could see Castiel's face, and only then did he finally exhale, relaxed. He was in his nest, which gave him a sense of security - a little foolish, since he rationally knew that a wall of pillows wouldn't stop a bad guy - and he and his Alpha were together in their lair, which he rationally knew was a damn impregnable fortress. And whoever tried to harm Cas, enemy or one of his own, he was protected from them here, and if someone got through the steel in the door...
Dean snarled and bared his teeth, even though there was no one to look at.
He still had his SIG, and even if it failed, those Omega fangs could do more damage than most people thought.
Summing it up like that, he smiled in satisfaction. Here and now, they were safe and together. It was a moment of peace he wanted to enjoy, so he rested his forehead on Castiel's shoulder and closed his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around Alpha's bicep.
A few dozen minutes of sleep before the food was brought in certainly wouldn't hurt.
°°0°°
The regular gasps above his head faltered and skipped.
Dean stiffened and backed away a little. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of roasted cherries with honey and bitter almonds, which definitely smelled better than cyanide. Alpha, a familiar scent tinged with the stale pain of yesterday and, unfortunately, new notes of fresh pain.
It looked like he was waking up, and yeah, probably not in a good mood.
So Dean rose to his knees, bracing himself for whatever might come from the Alpha.
His eyes finally opened, and despite the fact that he had expected red - pain usually did that to Alphas, and it was strange that Cas' eyes had stayed blue yesterday - a beautiful blue appeared. The Alpha took a long, obviously painful breath, licked his dry lips and turned to Dean.
"Din..." he breathed through clenched teeth. His hand immediately wrapped around his bruised ribs, but at the same time he braced himself against the other, trying to pull himself up onto the pillow.
"Easy, Cas," he interjected immediately. He put one arm around his back and used the other to push the pillow under him so he could rest his head against it. This made the Alpha more or less sitting up, which was exactly what he wanted and, judging by his relieved exhalation, made him more comfortable.
"Time...?" was the next word to pass his thin, cracked lips as he glanced over Dean's shoulder at the window.
"It's a little after 3:30 in the afternoon...but it's not Wednesday anymore, it's Thursday," he answered accurately, because he had managed to check his phone on the way down to Blue Sky, and in addition to checking on Sam, he had also discovered that they had slept a full day. They'd been back before noon on Wednesday. So... it was actually more than a day.
"Yebanyy v rot," Cas growled what Dean was pretty sure was a curse word and bared his golden fang. It wasn't aimed at Dean or anyone in particular, just the world. But as was his wont, the anger didn't last long. He let out a long sigh and turned his grizzled face towards Dean, his tiredness drawing deep furrows in it, but there was also a warmth in his eyes in addition to the tiredness. And when he raised his hand to place it on Dean's cheek, he even smiled.
"Ty prekrasen, lyubimyy."
That was definitely something sweet. He didn't even have to think about it. He placed his palm on Castiel's hand, turned his face into the palm, closed his eyes, and rubbed his scent gland against Alpha's hand as a low purr vibrated through his chest. The air was filled with the sweet scent of Omega, as well as his own signature scent, which was distinct at the moment, though it generally didn't come close to Alpha's signature scent.
A shiver ran through Castiel's hand as it gently touched his cheek, followed by another and another, and the next thing Dean heard was the sound of chattering teeth.
He opened his eyes sharply in alarm and took a cautious whiff to see if the Alpha was in new pain or if something worse was happening to him, but other than the expected steady rush of pain, he caught only the bitter smell of anger, signaling nervousness rather than actual rage.
Before he could ask what was wrong, the Alpha had freed his hand and turned away from Dean to reach for the nightstand. He couldn't reach the nightstand because of the pillows piled in Dean's nest. He growledHe growled in irritation.
"Blyad...!"
Dean realized at once what was going on. Alpha hadn't had a cigarette in over a day and a half, and even before that, instead of his usual twenty, he'd smoked maybe five in the course of the night and morning's torture of Alastair. The trembling in his hand and the chattering of his teeth was withdrawal. Maybe even a peak, after which things would get better, but of course he dared not say that. He wasn't stupid enough to think that this was the best situation to talk to Cas about cutting down on smoking.
"I'll give it to you," he said instead, reaching over Alpha's head to the table where the cigarettes lay. In addition to the pack, he grabbed a lighter and an ashtray with a single cigarette butt, several days old.
Castiel took the pack from him, expertly opened it with one finger, tapped it, and took the cigarette that had slipped partially out with his lips and pulled it out. Before he could look for a lighter, Dean lit it and brought it to the end of the cigarette so Alpha could light it.
The tip of the cigarette turned red. Castiel took a slow, deep drag and rested his head against the pillow behind him, eyes closed. Dean managed to count to twenty-eight before the Alpha finally let the smoke out of his mouth and nose with a sigh of relief, and with it, the tension in his body disappeared and the trembling in the hand that held the cigarette ceased.
"Ideal'ny..." he murmured contentedly before taking another puff, growling softly.
It took a few more, shallower drags and a puff of ash before Cas began to pay attention to something other than the cigarette.
Turning to Dean, he narrowed his eyes and examined him with a slightly tilted head before gently grabbing his chin and tilting his head to the side. It was clear that his gaze was directed at the dark purple bruises that marred his neck and, much to Dean's displeasure, probably at the fact that his brand had been defeated and would not be restored anytime soon. First, it would hurt like hell, and second, it would be pointless. It would have disappeared in a tangle of bruises anyway.
"Sukisyn!" Castiel gritted his teeth. "I'd kill him, but... he's already dead."
"Yeah, I know you would," Dean assured him, quietly and a little cautiously at the same time, because he could feel that he was on thin ice here. Cas was definitely one of those Alphas who hated it when someone touched their Omega, and that meant they took a lot of hits when they failed to protect their Omegas. He didn't want Cas to think he had failed, because he hadn't.
He took his hand in his own and pulled it away from his face, but only to give him room to lean in and kiss the Alpha's dry, cigarette-tasting lips and... yeah, a little after he hadn't brushed his teeth in a few days, but so what? Like Dean was any better.
He pulled away and smiled.
Castiel's bright blue eyes fixed on his face with their usual intensity, which pleased him. He was a little less pleased when the Alpha averted his gaze to somewhere vague in the room and slowly pulled away. He looked somehow distant. That expression and that look... at least he'd left his hand in Dean's grasp.
"I'm your Alpha. I'm supposed to protect you. I failed," he said in a colorless tone. "I shouldn't have let you in there. But I wanted you to have your revenge, just like I did. It was a mistake."
This was exactly what Dean had feared. Some kind of stupid remorse. He'd done so much for Cas in the last few days... hell, in the whole time they'd known each other. He'd protected him, given him a lair, agreed to take Sam in, helped his dad. In fact, no one, not dad or Bobby, had ever cared of him like Castiel. Damn it! He even felt so safe here that he built a nest, something he hadn't done since he was six or seven. How could the Alpha not see that and still blame himself? I mean, he had his wounded ass in that nest! Was he blind or stupid?
Maybe a combination of both. Either way, it meant he was sitting there blaming himself and still giving a shit about not letting Dean in. He wanted help with Alastair's interrogation. Maybe what he'd come up with hadn't been a good idea after all, but he'd do it anyway, whether Castiel or dad let him or not. He'd just find a moment and get Alastair to talk. Or at least try to. It was about his mom, after all!
"You really are an idiot," he said, half angry but also half tired, letting go of his hand and pulling away.
The Alpha turned to him in surprise.
"Look around," he challenged, and he did. "You're sitting in the nest. My nest. The one I built yesterday. Do you think I would have built it if you weren't a good Alpha?"
"I don't know. I don't know Omegas that well. Maybe you just needed safety. And a nest is safety."
"Yeah, the nest is safe because it's built in a safe place," he replied confidently. He knew it, and it wasn't just something he'd heard or read or seen on TV somewhere or, God forbid, remembered from biology class. He just knew it. He felt it. "And I never... Cas... this is the first nest in ten years. And as romantic as it sounds, the only reason I built it is because of you. Or do you see others?"
"The question is... do I deserve it?" the Alpha asked him a strange question, letting the cigarette fall into the ashtray.
At first, Dean didn't understand. What did he deserve? For calling him an 'idiot'? Yeah, he definitely deserved that. He was an idiot, like all Alphas. Mental decay simply came with the knot, maybe that much was obvious at first glance.
Or maybe he thought... He looked around, at all the pillows piled up in what looked like a nest. Did he mean the nest? Did he want to know if he deserved the nest Dean had built for him? It sounded so stupid. Omegas built nests for themselves, not for Alphas. But if Cas wanted it, then...
"Yeah. Sure. You deserve it. It's yours if you stop beating yourself up over what happened," he gave him the nest casually, as if it wasn't something, but as he did he felt a strange but pleasant warm rush as the gesture satisfied him more than he'd expected, and he also caught a sweet whiff of the scent of honey and roasted cherries, as if it pleased Castiel as well.
He didn't help himself, but relaxed and smiled.
"Some shit happened, I won't deny that, but we all survived safely and are moving on." He waved in a sweeping gesture somewhere in the room. "Just smile and..." He wanted to make light of the situation some more, to make Cas realize that he really had nothing to blame himself for, but the Alpha cut him off by grabbing his chin and turning his face to his.
"This isn't a joke, Din. Did you really build this nest for me?" He asked with a seriousness that confused Dean.
"Yeah, sure. I told you it was for you."
Alpha's wrinkles between his eyebrows made his bruised face look even more wounded, and he tilted his head slightly to one side, as he always did when he was thinking about something or didn't understand something. And he searched Dean's face with his bright blue eyes with such intensity that it was hard not to obey his omega and lower his gaze. He didn't, probably because he had noticed that Cas didn't want to see submissiveness in such cases like other Alphas did, but was interested in looking into his face and eyes.
"You really don't know what it means when Omega gives the nest to his Alpha?" He finally broke the silence.
Dean frowned in confusion and opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't really have anything to say, so he just shook his head and shrugged.
"I don't know, and I don't think it's as important as you're suggesting," he replied, though he had a feeling that what he was saying wasn't quite true. "It's just a nest... barely a nest. A few pillows in a pile. Nothing big..."
The Alpha paused again, long enough for the cigarette to burn out too close to his fingers, so he let it go with a hiss, loosening his grip on Dean's chin at the same time to take care of the burning butt and the ashtray. He extinguished the smoldering filter that remained of the cigarette and set the ashtray down with it on the bare bed behind the wall of pillows.
Then he turned back to Dean, looking a little less serious than before, though there was an undertone of mustiness in his scent that indicated dissatisfaction or perhaps... sadness.
"You're right... it's probably just another... kul'turnoy misunderstanding." He waved his hand as if it were nothing, then smiled warmly and stroked Dean's cheek. "Let's forget it, dorogoy, da? All the bad things that happened in the last few days. Yes?" He asked, taking Dean's hand in his palm so he could bring it to his lips and kiss the knuckles. He sounded relaxed, but there was an unnecessary amount of Alpha power in his voice, as if he didn't want to talk about it anymore and would rather forbid Dean to talk about it as well. And then there was his scent... that tainted whiff that hadn't dissipated yet.
Something was hiding behind it. That much was clear. And he made a mental note to find out more about it, but since Cas had suggested that they forget the last few days, he had no choice but to agree. Leaving everything behind was the best way.
"Yeah, okay," he nodded and flopped down next to Alpha, but he didn't let go of his hand and tilted his head high enough on the pillow so they could look into each other's eyes. "Like I said, we shall live and move on." He smiled and was about to comfort Cas by telling him about the food from the Dollhouse when the doorbell rang through the open door at just the right moment.
"I ordered food at the Doll. I'm sure that'll be it," he said, but by then he was on his way over the edge of the nest and to the edge of the bed. "I'll bring it here," he added as soon as he was on his feet.
"Bring me the phones first," Cas demanded.
"Sure. They're probably in your jacket in the bathroom," he replied, and even though there was no reason to hurry, the delivery from the Dollhouse was not a normal delivery and there was no danger of the delivery guy leaving with the food again, he ran to the bathroom.
He actually found both phones in his jacket pockets, so he took them next to Cas, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and ran off to get the food. He hoped there would be pie. Hell, he really wanted pie.
°°0°°
He put his hand on the velvety surface of one of the cushions and looked around thoughtfully at the nest he was sitting in.
Nest building had always been beyond him. He'd learned in school that Omegas built nests and that it was important to them, which was why he'd made sure that his Dean always had the best place to build a nest and enough materials. He didn't know exactly what that meant, but when he had set up a small apartment for Dean and his brother, where they were going to stay for much longer than they ended up staying, the interior designer seemed to know exactly what Omegas needed and wanted. And though Dean hadn't nested then or now, he put it down to the nomadic lifestyle, the uprooting, the Sun Hill experience, and a little bit of the fact that what he'd given Dean wasn't what he'd wanted in the end.
But here he was, sitting in the middle of Dean's nest.
When the Omega had started to build it yesterday, his Alpha had howled triumphantly. Finally. Finally, Dean was really satisfied. Finally, his Omega had chosen Castiel's Alpha as his Alpha and shown it. It was an exhilarating sense of victory he hadn't felt in a good two decades. A burning desire for possession. But also a sense of peace that permeated his body and mind with increasing intensity, just as the satisfyingly sweet Omega scent Dean deliberately applied to every pillow he placed near Castiel grew stronger.
He felt protected by the scent and the nest. It wasn't something he was used to. He'd always had to take care of his own safety, and he'd done it well. But he had a distant memory of that feeling, tying it to the blue eyes, blond hair, and freckled nose that belonged to his Omega father, who had bent over him as he placed Castiel in the nest.
He hadn't thought of him in such detail in years, and even that was only a brief glimpse before fatigue and exhaustion from the pain overcame him and he fell asleep.
Waking up in the nest wasn't as intoxicating as falling asleep, probably because he desperately missed his cigarette, but he still felt peaceful and content. This despite the remorse he felt when he saw Dean's bruised neck and the anger that came over him when he discovered that the bruises the son of a bitch had inflicted on Dean had covered his mark.
Then Dean told him that he had built the nest for him. Castiel knew what that meant, or at least what it meant back home; it was the Omega's way of saying they'd chosen the Alpha and wanted to mate with him and have pups. It was an old custom, and in the past it would have meant mating in that particular donated nest. But that was in the past, and even in Castiel's childhood that custom was no longer followed. Still, it was true that when Omega built a nest for Alpha, he meant it.
At least that's the way it was in Russia. Here in America? Here, the customs were different, and it wasn't the first time they'd misunderstood each other because their culture was different. Or the language.
He rubbed his temple with a sigh.
He felt like he had splinters in his head and it hadn't stopped since he'd taken a scenic flight and landed on the hood of a car. He had no doubt that he had a concussion, and despite Dean's belief, he was pretty sure that he had at least two cracked ribs and a badly bruised hip as well. Yesterday his pain had been dulled by anger and adrenaline and Alpha enzymes, today it was fully manifested and since this wasn't the first time he'd had a concussion and cracked ribs, he recognized the pain very well.
He reached for a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, lit it, and enjoyed his first puff of warm smoke. Only a shallow inhalation, as his aching chest refused to cooperate.
Then, as he slowly blew out the smoke, he opened his Russian phone.
The River was buzzing with activity. He'd received several reports from his Lieutenants, mostly about the rapidly emerging conflicts with competitors who were immediately laying claim to Alastair's former territories and business sectors. The advantage for the Brotherhood was that not only did Alastair not expect the attack, neither did his competitors or even their allies. He had planned to wait a few more weeks before bringing Alastair to his knees, but the arrival of John Winchester hastened everything. Surprisingly, not to the Brotherhood's detriment.
He swiped and was about to check his text when the other phone started to ring.
Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at who was calling.
Balthazar.
Castiel frowned slightly and cocked his head to the side.
There had been a time when Beta had called him often, not just for Blue Sky business, but to invite him to dinner or to his place. At first, he'd stopped calling him for reasons other than running the club, and after he'd made it clear that there were lines around Dean that he couldn't cross, he'd stopped calling altogether. He gave orders to the waitresses or texted.
He reached for his other phone and answered the call.
"Da?"
There was what sounded like surprised silence on the other end.
"I thought you wouldn't answer, mon amour."
"Why wouldn't I, Balthazar?" He didn't understand.
"I wasn't sure you were all right when your Omega wouldn't let me near you."
Castiel took a long breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Not only Gabriel, but also Balthazar had gotten the absurd idea that they were together. He thought he'd beaten it out of him, and Beta understood that they weren't 'together' and never had been, but Balthazar was probably a much bigger fool than Castiel had ever imagined.
"I told you not to come here anymore," he growled warningly.
"I wouldn't have come if we didn't have that dead waitress in the toilets"
A dead waitress? No one mentioned the dead waitress to him.
"Leaving it to the Omegas was a risk, especially given the other circumstances," Balthazar continued.
Castiel pursed his lips to hold back another growl. So Dean knew all about it, had even been involved, but hadn't said anything. Didn't he understand that Castiel always had to be the first to know about something like this? In fact, the one he told about everything important in his life. Even a minor omission like this could give some the impression that he wasn't in control of his Omega, and especially now that they were surrounded on all sides by the threat of war, that was dangerous. He could imagine that Vladko would like to be in his place. After all, he had assumed he would be the new New York Authority after Pugal's death, and when the Triumvirs had installed Castiel, he hadn't been happy. In the end, he accepted it because Castiel not only had the support of Miami in the form of his brother, but he also managed to forge some quality alliances and regain the respect and fear of the Russians in the city. And even something remotely resembling a friendship had developed between them. But that didn't mean Vladko wouldn't take an opportunity when he saw one.
Every single sign of weakness, the smallest, added up to another and another.
"And?" He said neutrally, not letting on that he knew nothing of what had happened.
"And?"
"He didn't handle it?" He trailed off, waiting anxiously for Balthazar's answer. Even his Alpha lifted his head, though he was tired after the last few days, lying in a corner, half asleep.
"The corpse didn't scare him, and he could handle the rest."
Beta's constant allusion to something more than a dead bitch in the toilet was disturbing, but hearing Balthazar acknowledge that Dean had made it through also made him proud. Another example that Omega was the right man for him.
A small smile formed on his lips.
If it weren't for the omission, he could only be proud of him.
"Then we have nothing to talk about. Or do you have something else?"
"Non. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, cher."
"Okay," he said neutrally, stubbing out his cigarette as he heard footsteps approaching the open door. "I won't be at the club tonight, but let me know when you open," he added, hanging up the phone just as the door had opened to reveal a smiling Dean standing inside, a tray of good smelling food in his hands.
The smell made his stomach clench with hunger and his saliva rush to his mouth. Suddenly he felt as if he hadn't eaten in months.
He needed to talk to Dean, but it would definitely have to wait until he was at least halfway through the borscht.
°°0°°
Arslan was waiting at the door with two bags of food. He held them in one hand while the other was hanging from his belt. It wasn't broken, because there was no cast visible, but it was definitely injured, and Dean had a good idea when it might have happened. He and Redhead were a team.
"Hello. It's food. From the Kukla," Beta said, his sentences short and clipped as always, and held out his hand to Dean with the bags.
"Yeah, thanks," he took it from him with a smile that Beta didn't return.
"Goodbye," he said instead and turned to leave.
Dean hesitated a little. Willingly, he noticed that Beta didn't smell very good. A little painful, but also somehow unhappy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he suspected it was because of Red... Nikon. He should show him some respect, now that he was dead, and call him by his name.
"Hey, wait!" He called after the departing Beta; he turned to him silently. "I'm sorry."
Not a muscle in Arslan's face moved, either he didn't want to show his sadness or maybe he didn't understand.
"I know. Nikon is dead. I'm sorry," he said slowly, clearly, in short, simple sentences, hoping that Beta would understand.
"Raqmet sizge..." he replied in a language that Dean didn't think was Russian, although it looked a little like it, and at the same time a smile appeared on his round face, making him look pleasant even through his huge eyebrows. "Thank you, Omega. You are kind," he added, this time in English.
"I'm really sorry. Nikon was... nice."
Mr. Big Eyebrows nodded with a smile, then pointed a thumb behind him toward the elevators, probably to ask if he could go.
"Sure. Go. Bye."
"Bye," Beta said goodbye and turned toward the elevator.
Dean returned to the apartment and headed for the kitchen.
The bags weren't disposable ones like in other restaurants, but Tupperware boxes. He stacked them one after the other on the counter and had to say that the cook at the Doll certainly didn't skimp on them. The boxes were almost overflowing, and besides the borscht, which he could recognize not only by its smell but also by its purple color, there was something in a cream sauce with mushrooms and another meat and cabbage, but there were no beets and it was more like a stew. There was also a box of yeast Russian pancakes (Cas said they were also eaten salty, though Dean thought that was a bit odd), something that smelled and looked like flat gnocchi, and oddly enough, some very good smelling French fries. Homemade, not the frozen ones from the big bags that most restaurants had. He took it for himself, along with the meat and mushrooms. First, it was the only dish without cabbage, and second, it smelled really good. But there was something else that smelled even better.
He started to take out the second bag, which smelled of sugar, honey, cottage cheese and apples and made his saliva run. He was pretty sure that there was that great homemade pie in there somewhere. In the first box was a strange pie that looked like it was made of pieces of toasted bread, but smelled of cottage cheese, apples, raisins, and vanilla and cinnamon. It didn't look bad, though it was a little like the milk-soaked toast he'd given Sammy when he was a toddler. There was tiramisu in the second box, and it definitely smelled and looked a lot better than the refrigerated ones at the mall, and he actually briefly considered taking it, but he was still hoping there would be pie in the last box.
He opened it and yep! Hell yeah!
There was pie! Four big pieces of homemade apple pie that smelled and looked like goddamn heaven!
He didn't even bother to look for a spoon or a plate and pretend to eat like a civilized person. He just grabbed a slice and started shoving it into his mouth and... Oh my God! It tasted as good as it smelled. The dough was crisp but not dry, the apples soft and honey-sweet and wonderfully juicy. He took the second piece in his other hand, balancing it as it threatened to break, and chewed quickly to give his mouth enough room for another bite.
He stuffed both pieces into his mouth in record time, licking his fingers with a satisfied purr as he eyed the other two pieces indecisively. He should probably save at least one for Alpha, and also bring him some food before it got cold. Well... if he took a plate of borscht and the two pies, he could eat them both before Alpha finished his meal. And he was sure he'd eat the food first and then the dessert, because Cas was a stickler for those things. Then it wouldn't be as if he didn't want to enjoy the pie. Cas just wasn't fast enough.
He pulled a tray out of one of the cabinets, placed a plate on it, and then shoveled most of the borscht onto it. It wouldn't fit all of it, plus some side dishes. He wasn't sure what kind, so he threw in both the pancakes and the flatbread gnocchi and judged it. It looked edible, well, edible to Alpha, the smell of cabbage twisting Dean's nose.
He added a box of scones and returned to the bedroom with a tray of food.
He walked in just as Cas was putting his phone away. There were lines between his eyebrows and thin lines around his mouth. He frowned in displeasure, but when he looked up at Dean, his face softened. It was probably something in the business that Dean had learned not to ask about, at least not until it directly affected him. So he just smiled and held up his tray.
"I thought you'd like some home-cooked food," he said, walking over to the side of the bed and, with a bit of effort and acrobatics, placing the tray across Castiel's thighs.
"Thank you, Din," the Alpha said gently, taking his hand and giving him a quick kiss on the back. But then his attention turned to the food. In fact, he did so without his usual elegance and courtesy. Instead of small, subtle bites, he began to shove large morsels into his mouth, dropping them from his fork and letting out a deep, satisfied growl that reverberated through his chest.
Dean smiled in delight.
He knew he was making the Alpha happy, which pleased his Omega, and besides, Cas was actually quite cute right now. He wouldn't dare say it out loud, of course, he'd get a sharp look and a warning growl, but that was the way it was. The big Bratva leader was cute, sitting naked on the bed, pouting... Dean wrinkled his nose. Well, borscht wasn't exactly a food he craved in his nest, but at least Castiel made up for it with his tart, sweet scent of contentment.
Carefully, so as not to disturb the Alpha unnecessarily, he climbed back into his nest before stealing the box of pies. Castiel froze in the middle of chewing, letting the fork with the morsel hang in mid-air, peering at Dean out of the corner of his eye. He returned it with an innocent smile and a mock shy look from under his lowered lashes, and opened his pie box.
Alpha snorted and resumed eating.
Dean smiled again and lifted another piece of pie to his mouth.
"Balthazar called me," Castiel broke the silence, broken only by the hum of the air conditioner, the clatter of cutlery, and, until recently, his contented growl.
Dean froze.
He hadn't told Castiel about the dead waitress at Blue Sky. He didn't want to keep it from him. He didn't think for a moment that the Alpha wouldn't find out eventually. But there was no way to say anything, it was best for Cas to eat first, and after all... as long as they didn't talk about someone wanting to poison Castiel himself, or at least get the club into a lot of trouble, he could enjoy the pleasant peace. A peace they both damn well deserved! It had been thirty hours since Alastair's kingdom had fallen, Alastair himself had vamped, his father had left, and Sam had returned to his foster parents. At least they could both eat in peace. Half an hour. That was all Dean wanted.
"Cas, I was going to tell you - " he began apologetically, but Alpha held up a hand, silencing him.
"But you didn't," he said calmly but sternly, and Dean lowered his eyes in an instinctive need to show him his submission and pity. "This is one of the more serious things you've kept from me. Don't ever do that again."
"I didn't want to keep it a secret!" He shouted defensively, looking up to find Castiel not looking at him, but picking up his cutlery and taking another bite. "I just didn't get a chance to tell you," he added by way of explanation, because the fact that the Alpha was calm and not particularly bitter about his scent suggested that he wasn't happy, but not really angry either.
"The reason doesn't matter, Omega. You need to tell me everything, and as soon as it happens," Castiel dismissed his argument, turning to him with a look that made Dean purse his lips and lower his eyes back to the cake that was crumbling in his hands and falling into the box. "It was fortunate that Balthazar informed me of the dead woman. If it had been someone else and they knew I didn't know what they were talking about, it would have put me in an awkward position. It would have looked like weakness. As if I didn't have the trust and especially the loyalty of my own Omega. I've told you many times how dangerous it is for me to lose respect. Do you remember that, Dean?"
"Yes, Alpha. Of course I do. I'll do better next time," he muttered into the cake, which had already broken in half and fallen into the box he had folded on his knees. Fuck it! He hated the way he felt right now. So submissive. But at the same time, there was something comforting about it. The Alpha was giving him orders or instructions or something, and it was as if he was also giving his Omega ropes to hold on to.
"Now tell me exactly what happened," the Alpha demanded.
Dean gave him a furtive look to make sure he was eating again. He put the rest of the pie in the box and wiped his fingers on his pants before swallowing the remaining crumbs in his mouth and licking his lips before speaking.
"Balthazar came here and said something happened in Blue Sky. You were still asleep and I thought it was a small thing I could handle on my own, so I went with him," he began, his words crisp and clear as if he were reporting to his father. "One of the waitresses was in the bathroom. Dead. I didn't know her, but she had Frigo's nametag on her dress. I thought she overdosed on the stuff she was packing, but the guy watching her didn't think it was possible. So I checked her out. Her muscles were stiff with cramps and her mucous membranes were cyanotic. I thought someone had poisoned her, so I asked what she'd eaten or drunk. She had a glass of tonic. I could smell cyanide on it. We checked the inventory and found that someone had added cyanide to all the bottles in the club. They made a hole in the cap, injected the solution, and then capped the hole. I had all the contaminated bottles dumped and the body cleaned up. They probably didn't open until midnight tonight, but we should."
Castiel ate silently the whole time, showing no emotion even when he talked about the tonic being poisoned. That made Dean uneasy. Didn't he know what that meant?
"The tonic was poisoned, which means someone tried to kill you."
"I know," Castiel replied calmly, putting his cutlery down on his empty plate.
"Someone who knows you and knows you like gin and tonic."
"Or someone," he turned to him, "who spends enough time at Blue Sky. What I drink is no secret."
"But it had to be someone with an attitude..."
"Or someone from the delivery service."
"Okay, but you'd still have to -"
"Din!" He interrupted again, a little more sternly than the first two times, and cupped his chin between his forefinger and thumb. "These are the risks of our lives. I'll take care of it. You don't have to worry about it."
Dean took a breath to protest. He couldn't ignore the fact that someone had tried to kill his Alpha. His Omega growled and wanted to protect him.
"Now come here, moy sladkiy, and kiss me," he interrupted before he could say anything, making him lean in with a light tug.
He reluctantly gave in, and when their lips met, he returned the kiss rather lukewarmly. It really pissed him off! Cas was so damn careless! Even if the risk of death was part of his job, he shouldn't take it so lightly.
"I'm proud of you," the Alpha said, pulling away from Dean. There was a hint of a growl in his voice, his eyes narrowed and the lines around his mouth deepened. He looked and smelled satisfied.
Dean frowned in confusion.
"You are?"
"Da. Of course," the Alpha nodded and kissed him lightly on the lips again; he tasted of cabbage and garlic, but smelled of cherry pie with honey and almond crumble. "You handled the situation as I would have. You protected the Bratva's interests, but you also protected me and my property." His lips curled into a soft smile, and his voice was deep and husky, like a sip of good whiskey, and ran down Dean's spine like pleasant warm water. "I knew you were made for this life. It's in your blood. You're perfect."
The words of praise made him feel special, and his Omega purred contentedly, melting under the praise of the Alpha. In the back of his mind, he still felt stupid that Castiel had such an effect on him, but he didn't fight it anymore. He enjoyed the warm feeling that filled his chest and the satisfaction of knowing that a strong and dangerous Alpha like Castiel considered him a suitable mate. Surrendering to it, he closed his eyes and bowed his head as low as the fingers under his chin would allow, both showing his submission and inviting the Alpha to mark him.
Castiel grunted in satisfaction. He moved his hand to the back of Dean's head, gripping it firmly but gently, and began to brush his scent glands against Dean's hair. The unique scent of the Alpha mark filled the air and brought Dean peace.
He was still aware of the danger Castiel was in, but with his scent mark on him, he had a greater sense of security and trust in his Alpha.
"My..." the Alpha purred into his hair, planting a few kisses in it as well.
"Yes, Alpha. Yours," he agreed without hesitation, and saying it out loud made his stomach churn pleasantly.
Alpha growled possessively and buried his nose in Dean's hair. They stayed like that for long, beautiful minutes, his heart at first galloping, then gradually slowing to a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to synchronize with Castiel's steady beat. Only then did the Alpha pull away, sliding his hand over his neck, shoulder, and arm to his hand, clasping it and bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.
"So..." Cas drewled, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Anything else?"
Dean grinned. Yeah, this was a great wake up call from their romantic moment of togetherness.
"Sure. There's a lot in there. I'll get you more," he assured him, freeing his hand from his, this time skillfully and without damage, leaving not only their nest but the bed as well.
"And don't forget food for yourself," Cas pointed out as he took his plate from the tray.
"I have pie."
"Pie is not food. Pie is dessert. Have real food."
"Fine. I'll take the meat and the mushrooms," he said, to Castiel's obvious satisfaction. "And I'll get us some beer," he added, heading for the kitchen.
Chapter Text
He had a spoonful of chips in his mouth and was still scrolling through YouTube when the phone in his hand began to ring and the name of the Alpha lawyer who had helped him emancipate appeared on the screen. Baum.
On Cas and Shurley's advice, he'd asked her for help with Sammy's adoption when they'd left the courthouse earlier that day. She agreed, and from that point on, it was practically out of his hands. Everything that needed to be taken care of was up to her and Shurley, and Dean had almost forgotten about the whole thing. It all seemed so long ago now...
He answered the call and put the phone to his ear.
"Yeah? I mean... good morning, Alpha," he corrected himself, trying not to sound too rude.
"Good morning, Omega Winchester," the Alpha lawyer returned the call with professional courtesy. "Do you have a moment to talk?"
He glanced at the bedroom door.
Cas was probably still sleeping. In fact, he'd slept a good eighteen hours a day for the last four days, starting the afternoon the waitress had been killed down at Blue Sky. The rest of the time he'd eaten and made phone calls or sent emails or whatever from his laptop.
So he definitely had a few minutes.
"'Yep. I can now."
"Very good," the lawyer said, satisfied. "At Mr. Shurley's urging, I made some efforts to expedite the approval process. You have been approved as a suitable emergency foster parent."
A wave of excitement swept over him, lifting his Omega into a strutting stance and causing him to howl triumphantly. He could get his puppy back! Damn it! It was such a relief and such a joy. His stomach clenched and for some unknown reason, his eyes watered as well. This was so stupid! Why should he cry when he was going to get Sammy back.
"So I can take my little brother?"
"No, not yet."
He stiffened.
"Not yet how?"
"Well, the judge is reviewing the custody petition for your brother that I filed this morning. The hearing is tentatively scheduled for next Monday."
Monday? That was soon enough.
"Does that mean we're going to court like last time?"
"No, not this time. The judge will decide based on the documents alone. There would only be a direct hearing if one of the parties involved disagreed with his decision."
"Like Sam's foster parents?"
That was the first thing that came to mind. Seeing Sam's foster mom and the way she treated him, and little Alpha telling him she'd gone to see her when he and his dad left school, it was pretty clear to him that she liked Sam. He didn't see anything wrong with that, in fact he was glad. The foster parents had been great to Sammy and loved him. That was a good thing. Until Dean had threatened to take him back.
"Yes, the foster parents, the state, us, or even your brother. They all have the right to appeal the decision," the lawyer explained. "Don't worry about that for now. Whatever the outcome, this is only the first battle."
"Does that mean they might not give Sam back to me?"
"That is also a possibility," she admitted. "You're a young Omega who's literally only been emancipated for a few weeks. Even if you have a job and a mating contract with a prominent Alpha that has provided you with a substantial fortune, that doesn't automatically mean a judge will find you capable of taking care of your brother. He may want to see how you do in your independent life first."
"Like a sort of... probation?"
"Yes."
"How long might that be?"
"Hard to say. A few months, maybe six. Depends on the judge who gets your case."
A few months to six months. That was a hell of a long time, but if he and Sam were back together after that, he was determined to stick it out. And maybe they could ask for some visitation. Like mandatory, because up to that point there had been no legal handling of his contact with Sam. Even if he wanted to see his brother, his foster parents were under no obligation to let him see him.
"If it doesn't work out, I'd like to have visitation with Sam. You know, like... when people get divorced and one parent is guaranteed by the court to see the child. Is that possible?"
"Of course. If the court doesn't grant you custody at the first hearing, we'll ask for visitation," Alpha agreed, and she didn't seem surprised by his request. "I have to go now. I have a meeting with a client. I'll keep you posted as the situation develops."
"Good. Yeah. That'll be great. Bye."
"Good day to you too, Omega Winchester."
He put the phone down and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee when the bedroom door opened and Castiel walked out, his head down on the phone. His hair was wet and he was wearing only his boxers and an open robe, revealing not only his tattooed chest, but more importantly, his bruises. He had improved significantly over the past few days, though... it wasn't so much an improvement as it was just the outlines of the punches that stood out, still a deep purple, while the blood that had spilled under the skin into the surrounding area had faded to green and yellow.
"Morning... coffee?" He asked over his shoulder as he retrieved Castiel's cup.
"'Um... da... yes," the Alpha replied absently, not even lifting his head from the screen. With one hand, he pulled his chair back with practiced ease, so that it was sideways to the table and he could stretch his legs comfortably, and sat down.
Dean poured both cups of coffee, inhaling the smell of coffee mixed with Castiel's smoky cherry scent with a hint of bitter almond, but no more pain and certainly no more anger. More like crankiness. Yeah, that was it. Cranky.
"Razdrazhayushchiye politseyskiye svin'i!" Alpha half-mouthed, adding an irritated growl.
Dean didn't understand the first word, but he recognized the other two because he'd heard them so often, not just from Cas, that he finally tried to copy them into an online translator. It meant 'police pigs'.
"Trouble at work?" He asked, setting his cup down in front of Alpha.
Cas lifted his head in surprise.
"You talking about cops..." came the questioning expression, which was deepened by the way the Alpha tilted his head to the side. "I had it translated as 'politskje svini' or whatever the word is."
"Your pronunciation is terrible," Alpha said - Dean grinned in appreciation. Russian was a hell of a language. They had different letters. So what did Castiel want with him - he put the phone down and spread his arms in a familiar offer. "Come here, sladkiy."
Dean rolled his eyes. He was really getting too big for this and it was starting to look twice as ridiculous, but he stepped closer anyway and let himself be pulled down onto Alpha's lap. To the aura of his satisfyingly sweet scent and to the safety of a warm arm wrapped around his waist.
"The competition is trying to claim the territory and business opportunities left by Alastair's gang. We and our allies are trying to hold on to those territories. The streets are restless because of it, and of course the police can't let it go," Cas explained briefly, taking a sip of his coffee before raising his eyebrows slightly and fixing Dean with piercing blue eyes. "So you... what's new?"
He had to try not to smile. As the Alpha ate, he'd fallen back into his old habit of asking him all sorts of questions and then really listening to his answers over the last few days. He was so stupidly happy about it, even if it was childish to ask someone to listen to him with real interest. After all, he didn't really have much to say. Certainly nothing interesting or particularly clever, but today...
"I got a call from that Alpha lawyer... Baum. She said I was approved as a foster parent."
"Good news.”
"Yeah, it is," he nodded with a pleased smile, then frowned slightly. "It'll go to court for the first time in a week, but it probably won't make it the first time. She didn't sound very optimistic. I hear it's only the first battle, though."
"Are you going to court?"
"No. Not this time, but after this, I guess I will." He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully and reached for his mug to take a drink. "A lot's happened lately... I almost forgot I have this coming up. What if he doesn't trust me with his care?"
"Fake IDs are still a possibility..." Cas replied, taking a sip of his coffee.
Dean turned to him and searched his face. There was no hint that he was joking.
"Are you serious?"
"Da. Of course," the Alpha nodded and placed the palm of his hand on Dean's stomach. "You want your brother back, and I promised you I'd get him back. Dean and Sam Winchester can easily cease to exist, and after a month or two with Gabriel, the police will stop looking for you. You and your brother aren't very important to society or the cops. You have that in common with us... with me. None of us has ever been more than a number to the system, and numbers can be erased as easily as the snap of a finger." He snapped the finger of the hand that had been holding the cup.
There was that pleasantly cold, almost ruthless undertone to Alpha's voice, and even though he was actually saying that Dean was insignificant, it sounded like a compliment, not an insult.
And Dean looked at Castiel's face, at his eyes the color of a sea lagoon, and the eyebrows raised in question, and... Damn it! Seriously, so much had happened lately that he hadn't had a chance to take a good look at his Alpha and realize how damn gorgeous he was. This was despite the fact that his face was marred by a green bruise and a healing tear in the corner, and his nose was still a little swollen. He was still somehow... elegant, but toughly elegant. Like old cars! Yeah, that was it. He was like old cars, beautiful, elegant, distinctive and strong, indomitable and resilient at the same time.
And he belonged to Dean.
The thought made his Omega howl with excitement. He had the best Alpha ever. Strong and dangerous, but also caring. An Alpha who deserved his nest and hell yeah... it would be great to have a puppy or a whole litter with him. Actually, not right now, but...
"Screw it. First hour's history anyway, and that's boring," he said firmly before getting up from Castiel's lap, first taking off his shirt, then his shirt. He let both fall to Cas' feet, using them as a makeshift pillow as he dropped to his knees.
"I hope you've got your appetite back," he remarked teasingly as he reached for his black boxers, looking up through his lowered lashes.
The expected reaction didn't take long.
Cas grunted in warning and his hand shot out. He grabbed Dean's hair and jerked his head back sharply. It didn't hurt, not really. He knew it would, and he expected the pleasurable rush of desire to submit to his Alpha's will as well. He never thought he'd enjoy it. Every time a Knot tried to prove his superiority to him, he felt more disgust and only a kind of timid reaction from his Omega. A kind of hesitant suggestion to give in. But it was only a suggestion.
With Castiel, it wasn't just a suggestion. It was really the strength of his superiority and the sense of security and peace that came with submitting to this particular Alpha. And the more he fought his submission, the stronger that feeling became, which was why he now bared his teeth and growled back at the Alpha.
"You are a brash and defiant Omega," Castiel said in a deep, rumbling voice that vibrated through his chest.
"Then tame me, Casie," he replied, adding the diminutive Alpha hated at the end.
Castiel blinked, the blue of his eyes darkening in a way that sent shivers down Dean's spine and caused real concern. Maybe he had overreacted after all... he thought ruefully.
"I don't have a problem with that, lyubimyy," the Alpha assured him darkly, leaning in close enough that Dean could smell the coffee on his breath and, more importantly, take in the scent of cherries and honey and the Alpha's arousal.
°°0°°
Today had been good.
It had started with a perfect morning with Cas, where they'd had coffee together and ended with blowjobs and Alpha licking his ass clean.
On the way to school, since he'd already missed half of first class anyway, he stopped with Jacob and Vadim in the Russian Quarter at some mobile stand that had something very similar to donut holes. Only you could choose whether you wanted a sweet or savory side dish. At first Dean was skeptical, but after the first serving with vanilla icing and colored sprinkles he decided it was pretty damn good. Only Vadim didn't have to have the savory version with chives and onions, because he'd throw it in the garbage on the way to school. Jacob was a little sensitive and grimaced when he saw Vadim bending over the trash can.
School was pretty cool too. In fact, with Kevin's help, he'd even picked up some chemistry, and it was a miracle if he understood any of the lessons.
He had a great chat with Sammy and Kevin at lunchtime over a shared video chat, and actually the food was good too, because Kevin gave him all his chicken nuggets. Yeah, apparently he told his mom he'd rather eat school food, and holy crap, she let him. Dean was secretly proud of him. Standing up to his Alpha must have been hell for an Omega like Kev.
Finally, on the way from school to car, he bought a Snickers and opened the energy drink he'd been carrying around in his bag all day - yeah, it tasted like sweet piss when warm - and while he chewed a bite and smiled, he walked out into the cold, dreary afternoon.
Large, thin drops of rain drummed on the new leather jacket Castiel had delivered for him the day before, soaking through the hood of the gray sweatshirt he pulled over his head. Still, he was in no hurry. Balancing his food and drink in one hand and his cell phone in the other, he kept an eye on his surroundings, trying to avoid the other students and parents who had come to pick something up.
Dean: china?
Cas❤️: I'm in Doll and I already ate.
Dean:
He wanted to ask Alpha how he felt. Although he felt better in the morning than a few days ago, he still resembled a battered piece of meat and spending the afternoon and evening in the Doll might be exhausting for him... which he wouldn't admit openly, of course. He was determined to get back to work in the morning, regardless of his health.
He didn't even get to write a single letter in the box, though, because he thought he heard his name.
Pulling the headphones out of his ears, he lifted his head and tilted it as he listened to see if he would hear the call again.
"Dean!" Came from behind him, now clearly.
He turned and frowned immediately as his eyes fell on the woman walking briskly towards him.
It was the Beta cop who had followed him to Sun Hill and then to the hospital... her name was Balld...? No! Ballard! That was it.
Her partner was an Alpha, not your typical knotty, but they definitely both talked to Dean like he was mentally retarded and they planned to frame Cas while not even noticing the shithead from the shelter. Beta was probably here for the same reason. She wanted to question him about living with Castiel and accuse him of something again. He wasn't in the mood. Today was such a nice day and Dean didn't want to ruin it, but he could hardly just run to the Toyota parked at the corner. He'd already made damn eye contact with Beta and it would be rude to run away now.
And while he was making eye contact...
He glanced over his shoulder at the car parked at the corner and Vadim, who was already waiting outside and watching him. He probably didn't know Ballard directly, but it wouldn't escape his attention if Dean talked to her and told Castiel about her. Oh yeah... he had not yet told anyone from the Brotherhood that he was talking to the cops. Anyway, just running away would be even more suspicious. Someone might think he was hiding something.
So instead of trying to hide the fact that he was talking to the detective, he positioned himself so that Vadim would have a good view of their conversation.
"Dean..." Beta nodded with a friendly smile as she finally caught up to him. "I've been waiting for you here. Do you remember me?"
"Yeah, of course I remember. You're that cop from the Special Victims Unit," he replied neutrally.
"I'm glad you remember me. I wanted to talk to you."
"I'm legally an adult now. I can be with who I want and live where I want. We have nothing more to talk about," he ended the conversation before it had begun. "Have a nice day," he added, because his father had raised him to be polite, and most of the time he tried to be polite and turned to leave. Yeah, he didn't want to be so polite. Ballard, like everyone else in the office and the government, never did anything good for him. They took Sam away from him, sent him to the Omega Shelter, stripped him of his freedom using an antiquated law like for slaves. He didn't owe the idiots of the system any courtesy.
"That's not the point, Omega," the Beta woman caught up with him, matching his pace, though he walked briskly and she wore heeled boots and actually looked somehow better dressed the last two times he'd seen her. He guessed she was coming from the courthouse. Detectives certainly went there a lot.
"I'm mainly here to give you this," she continued, undeterred by his ignoring her, and shoved a plastic bag with red and orange tape that said NYPD and some numbers and stuff in front of his face.
Dean stopped and concentrated on the bag.
Inside was his wallet, cell phone, bracelets and rings.
And a golden cross from Castiel.
"That's my stuff."
"Yes," the officer nodded and motioned for him to hand it over. "Alpha Novak's lawyer requested them on Novak's behalf while he was still in Alpha's custody. Theoretically, the stuff should go to Alpha Novak, but... I thought I'd bring it here and see how you're doing."
He frowned at the bag, then looked over at Vadim, who was watching the whole scene intently, and finally turned to Ballard.
"Good. Thanks," he said curtly, taking the bag.
If it was just the phone and his stuff, he'd spare it, not wanting to look like he was collaborating with the cops by taking something from them. Sure, he'd feel bad about the wallet because he'd earned it and had it for a few years, but he'd already gotten rid of it anyway. He didn't care.
Except for Case's cross, which hadn't come off his neck since the Alpha had put it on him. It had quickly become part of his daily ritual. Tossing it under his shirt so he wouldn't get toothpaste or food on it. Not forgetting to wash it a little in the shower to keep it shiny, and touching it in the evening to remind himself of the one who gave it to him. It was a kind of imaginary symbol that he belonged to Castiel that wasn't as stupidly conspicuous and restrictive as the collar.
"You're welcome," Ballard replied, and it didn't look like she was about to leave.
He stepped around her and continued toward the waiting car, but Beta caught up with him again and matched his pace. At the same moment, Vadim ran across the street, but didn't approach them yet.
"It usually takes months for irrelevant evidence to be discarded and handed over to the victims or their families. The relevant ones remain in the police archives until all appeals have been exhausted and the perpetrator is finally convicted. Sometimes it takes years," the Beta detective said; Dean responded only with a neutral grunt that showed he didn't really care, but she continued: "But if the perpetrator confesses and agrees on a sentence with the prosecutor, it speeds things up. You know what I mean?"
"No. What?" He asked only because Beta had paused dramatically and his malfunctioning brain just couldn't handle the tense silence.
"Evan pleaded guilty to manslaughter, rape, abuse of a minor, and numerous property crimes. He did this right after he was attacked and severely maimed in prison."
Dean paused and gritted his teeth.
So that's what this was about? She wanted to investigate, to make sure the pedophile bastard and murderer got the punishment he deserved, even if it wasn't legal? She can go to hell!
He turned sharply to Beta, barely holding back the growl that escaped his lips.
"Did someone attack the pervert? That's terrible! I'm sure I won't sleep tonight because of him," he snorted in mock disgust. Seriously, with people like Evans, the cops should have been happy to have someone do their dirty work for them and deprive such monsters of the opportunity to continue breeding.
"I'm not going to defend Alpha Evans. He's not a good man, I'm sure we can agree on that. But Dean," she made a strategic move and placed herself in his path.
Vadim moved in their direction, but Dean subtly shook his head, signaling him to stay away. Neither of them needed any kind of conflict with a police detective, even one from a department as strange as the Special Victims Unit. They certainly didn't need it now, with the city in turmoil and cops multiplying everywhere.
"What happened to him wasn't justice. It was revenge and crime, and we both know who ordered it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He didn't let the fact that Beta had invaded his personal space bother him, he just ignored her and continued.
"I know you do," Beta replied, coming back to his side. "Or at least you have some idea of who Alpha Novak really is," she put it bluntly and continued just as directly. "And I'm sure you also know that you're not safe with him. I came here to offer you help - "
"Help?!" He snapped with a hint of a growl as the protective nature of his Omega began to wire itself to the surface to defend his Alpha from Beta's attacks. "You want to help me?" An amused laugh crept into his voice this time. "Everybody wants to help me... that woman from Social Services who took my brother away. You and your Alpha colleague. The judge who took away my basic human rights and turned me into nothing more than an animal. Even that fucking Evans wanted to help me," his fingers indicated the quotes around the word; a stupid habit he'd picked up from Cas, "be a good Omega by humiliating me and shoving his dick up my ass. Yeah, you all want to help me, but you know what..." He took a step towards them, his back straight, his chin raised, and he was pretty sure his eyes had turned orange, that's how angry he was right now. And even though the Beta cop smelled discomfort and straightened up as well, she didn't back down, keeping a calm expression that only made Dean angrier. She had the nerve to be so damn condescending!
"You know what?" he repeated again, much more calmly. Instead, his tone was calm to the point of being cold. "The only one who ever really helped me was my Alpha. He takes care of me. I live in his lair. He takes care of what I want and what I like. He protects me and will destroy anyone who hurts me. He loves me and I trust him. But you? I have no reason to trust you or even talk to you!"
He tried to walk past her, but she blocked his way again.
"I understand, Omega," he said so provocatively calmly, and she held up her hands, palms up, while tilting her head to show her neck; a learned submissive position meant to put Dean at ease. "I know you have no reason to trust people like me, but please...! Give me another chance. Here," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card she had given him once before. "Take this so you can call or text me anytime."
"I don't want it!"
"I won't let you go until you take it," she tried this time, her tone meant to be firm and dominant. Maybe it would have worked with another Omega, but not with Dean. Just because some Beta ordered him to do something, he definitely wouldn't do it. Damn it! He wouldn't have done it even if an Alpha had ordered him to, but... He looked over Beta's head at Vadim, who already looked nervous, his hand behind his back where his gun was hidden under his jacket. This was an exaggeration. Pulling out the gun. But he'd probably rather end up in jail than let anything happen to the Omega belonging to his Alpha.
Dean decided to calm the situation, so he snatched the business card out of Ballard's hand. Then he bared his teeth at her in a snarl, and without mercy or even an attempt at politeness, he pushed past her and took her out with the elbow of the hand he used to hold his bag on his shoulder. It wasn't with all his strength, or on purpose. She was just fucking in his way, and the fact that he pushed her back until she slammed her ass into a garbage can left him heartily indifferent.
Ignoring her, he continued forward at a brisk pace, meeting Vadim as he trotted toward him.
"Let's go," he barked as he passed, cutting him off before Beta could ask anything.
He didn't even pay much attention to whether Vadim was actually following him, he just assumed that he was. He grabbed his backpack tightly, clenched his jaw, which tingled with the need to bite into something, and quickly crossed the street to car. He didn't wait for the door to open, so he let the Betas do their job one hundred percent, just as Castiel had intended.
He simply climbed in the back and slammed the door behind him.
Moments later, Vadim was also in the car.
"Go," he ordered half-mouthed.
Then he closed his eyes, threw his head back and let out a long breath.
His Omega barked and growled protectively, considering this policewoman a threat. And maybe she really was.
Damn it! He'd told the woman more than he should have. He'd practically admitted that Castiel had done exactly what she thought he'd done. This could have been a huge mistake, and... His eyes fell to the bag on his knee and, more importantly, to his phone.
What were the ground rules? Never keep electronics that could be compromised in any way, and weeks in the police warehouse had definitely given the detectives time to install some sort of spy app on his phone. Something that would transmit audio and his location and probably video, everything he searches on the internet, what he's texting and who he's texting. The whole phone was a time bomb that could go off or explode the moment he turned it on.
He wasn't stupid and he wasn't going to risk that.
He tore open the bag, fished out the phone, slid down the seat to the window and opened it. Without thinking, he threw the phone out the window.
As he sat back down, he caught a pair of questioning and slightly suspicious eyes looking at him through the rearview mirror.
"We're not going home. I want you to take me to the Doll," he ordered, placing his hand on the bag that held the rest of his belongings and turning his head to the window. He needed to tell Castiel everything that had happened as soon as possible.
The two Betas remained silent, knowing that something was wrong, because this wasn't how Dean acted.
Chapter 100
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time they reached Doll, it was raining enough to stop, or the rain clouds overtook them. Anyway, when Jacob opened the door for him - Dean had calmed down a bit and let him do his job - a few rays even broke through the gray sky and illuminated the windows of the restaurant.
Beta opened the door to the restaurant for him as well, and Dean went in and headed straight for the back lounge, not noticing that the people he passed were as silent as ever, and that the bartender was watching him from behind the bar, stone-faced. He kept repeating in his head what he wanted to say to Castiel. He almost felt stupid doing it. He prepared himself like a little schoolboy about to give a report to the whole class. But his Omega was pacing anxiously, and all she whispered to him was that he had to convince Alpha of his loyalty. He must keep him. He was a good and strong Alpha. He probably wouldn't get another one like him.
He let Jacob knock.
As usual, one of the Alpha's men looked out. He was definitely one of the ones he had seen in Alastair's hell prison, but Dean didn't know his name. Several voices came from behind Beta's back, as well as what definitely sounded like a TV broadcast in Russian.
The Alpha had company?
Damn it! This was fucked up! He wouldn't have time for him now, and before Dean could tell him everything, someone else would do it for him, and the Alpha would be pissed. God, he would be so pissed! But wrongly this time. This time Dean is here and he's determined not to hide anything from him and that counts, doesn't it, damn it!
Jacob and the other Beta spoke to each other briefly in Russian, after which the unknown retreated back into the lounge and closed the door behind him. Dean made no attempt to understand what they were saying. He didn't have the patience for it right now. Waves of nervousness ran through his body. So he retreated to the wall and leaned his back against it. It gave him a sense of security and peace, although the stares of Jacob and Vadim took that away.
The door finally opened a second time, this time wide open, signaling them to enter.
The back lounge was filled with acrid cigarette smoke that even the air conditioning couldn't suck out. It billowed under the ceiling, but also descended to Dean's eye level, obscuring his vision. His eyes burned and his nose stung. And the pervasive smell of alcohol, garlic, onions, cabbage, meat, and a mixture of Beta's scent and pheromones - two Alphas? Was that possible? - certainly didn't help.
He felt as if he was immersed in a poisonous fog.
How, and more importantly, who could live in such horribly poisoned air?
He blinked and resisted the urge to hold his shirt over his nose, instead looking around the room.
In the center was a single long table, composed of all the tables he'd last seen here, surrounded by six chairs.
Castiel sat at the head of the table, facing the door so that he could keep an eye on whoever came in, as well as the table and the rest of the room, and also so that he had a wall behind him. To his right, Pyotr's bald head glistened, and his pink shirt and gold jewelry shone.
Across from Beta sat a man only slightly less fat than Pyotr had been, and it was obvious at first glance that he was the second Alpha in the room. He matched Cas in height, but his cheeks were chubby and covered in a perfectly trimmed graying beard. His hair was long, pulled back into a ponytail that fell away from his forehead. And not only was he dressed in a jacket, shirt, and tie, he had a vest and a gold clasp on his tie, and large gold cufflinks folded in the sleeves of his hands on the table.
Sitting next to him was a Beta that Dean had seen before. That time, many weeks ago... the one with the protruding ears, the gold earring, and the barbed wire tattoo on his neck. Like before, he wore a shirt with several buttons undone and short sleeves, revealing tattooed forearms and wrists.
Across from him, next to Pyotr, a fairly young Beta male with light hair turned to face Dean, wearing sunglasses for who knew why, and a Hawaiian shirt that played with all the colors, his tattooed forearms protruding a little more sparsely than the others had decorated them, and skinny wrists with a series of leather and beaded bracelets more suited to the beach.
The last was a tall, pale Beta, even taller than Castiel, with gray skin, gray circles under his eyes, slicked back hair, and the only one wearing clothes that covered every inch of his skin except his face, neck, and hands. He wore no gold, no jewelry, no visible tattoo...nothing.
A disparate group of men with one thing in common. They were Castiel's Lieutenants. The second highest in the New York branch of the Brotherhood.
Oh, shit!
This was really the worst time to go to Alpha and tell him about being contacted by a cop. Fuck that. He even felt a twinge of fear that he hadn't felt in Alpha's men in a long time. He knew Castiel would believe everything he said, but his lieutenants? None of them knew him, except for Pyotr. They had no reason to trust him, even though he was the Omega of their boss. They might want to get rid of him just in case, and honestly... Dean wasn't really sure that Castiel could stop them. I'm sure he would have tried. He had no doubt that he would defend him with his own life, but even he was no match for the strength of the entire Brotherhood. It could very well have ended with the death of both of them.
Vadim stepped around him and walked over to Castiel, leaning down to speak in confidence, and the Alpha tilted his head in response, offering a listening ear.
"I can speak for myself," came out before he realized it might sound rude. He simply wanted to prevent Castiel from hearing about what had happened outside the school from anyone else first. But now that Vadim had actually interrupted, he stiffened a bit, glancing cautiously at the men sitting around the table, remembering not to make eye contact with the other Alpha in the room. He didn't know what to expect from him, and despite all the acrid, poisonous smoke, he couldn't clearly read his scent. It would be foolish to tease him in this situation. Dean could see that as well.
In fact, neither of them seemed in any way offended by Dean's insolence. Pyotr wore his usual friendly expression, the Beta with the earring and the one in the Hawaiian shirt looked amused, the tall man in black was still impassive, and the other Alpha just raised a thick cigar to his mouth and took a drag.
Castiel gave him a long, slightly uncomfortable look, one so questioning and penetrating to his mind, before moving two fingers to send Vadim away, and using the same fingers to invite Dean to join him.
He straightened, gathered his confidence and courage, and obeyed the Alpha's unspoken command.
"Well?" Castiel asked, one eyebrow slightly raised, his head tilted slightly to the side, and though he looked up at Dean, he felt small in front of him and wanted only one thing; to lower his gaze and tilt his head to the side, exposing his throat. To apologize in advance for even the suspicion that he had betrayed Alpha. Like the little, obedient Omega he damn well wasn't! He had done nothing. He had done the right thing. He was loyal. He had no reason to be ashamed or afraid of losing his Alpha's favor.
Lifting his chin, he confidently reached into his satchel, pulled out a bag of his belongings, and threw it on the table in front of Castiel.
"The Beta cop... Ballard... from the hospital was waiting for me outside the school and she gave me this," he said without further ado, knowing that Castiel was like dad on this one; he didn't like to stall. "It's my stuff that was left at Sun Hill. She said you requested them through your lawyer and that they were released so quickly because Evans confessed."
Castiel didn't say anything, and Dean's nose, already well trained to all the nuances of Alpha's scent, didn't pick up even a hint of an intensification of the scent of bitter almonds or any other displeasure. And that he was close enough to pick up Castiel's scent well, despite the omnipresent smoke. Nor did he detect any stress in his features or movements. His eyelids were lowered as if weighed down by the contentment and comfort of the whole situation, the lines around his mouth were deep as canyons, and when he reached for the bag of Dean's things, he did so with the typical grace of a big, lazy cat rolling around in the sun.
His calm should have been reassuring to Dean and his Omega, but the opposite was more true.
He'd expected Castiel to freak out. The policewoman had found out where his Omega went to school and had come right up to him when he wasn't there. That meant there were cops sniffing around the entire Brotherhood. Their pack was in danger. The Alpha would freak out. Any Alpha would freak out... except one who had no fear and was in control. An Alpha like Castiel. Still...
"There was a phone," he pointed out as he watched Castiel pull out one thing after another, "I threw it away in case it was bugged."
"Good," Castiel replied, closing the wallet he'd rifled through earlier and placing it on the table. "Anything else?" he asked as he looked into Dean's face.
Their eyes met briefly before Dean lowered his.
He knew that Castiel didn't mind looking into his eyes, and he gave no indication that this situation would be any different. But he couldn't say the same for the other Alpha, and considering he was Castiel's Lieutenant... he had to present himself as a good Omega. Obedient and reasonably submissive, but not quite rubbery and groveling - figuratively and literally - at Castiel's feet. Keep up the facade. Playing the theater.
"She also gave me this," he continued, pulling a business card from his pocket and handing it to Alpha. "She wanted me to call her if I wanted to get away from you."
"What did you tell her?" Castiel asked as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.
"I told her to go to hell," he replied with a grunt, unable to help the memory of Beta's pushiness and allusions to his Alpha, but then he paused. "I mean... not really. I wasn't being rude or anything. I know how to behave," he quickly clarified, well aware that politeness and decorum were something Castiel demanded of him in public. "I just took the card, said goodbye, and left," he added, which was only partially true. He hadn't said much of a goodbye, but... well, it wasn't a lie to say it, and it sounded better than the truth.
"That's it?"
"Yes... Castiel," he replied, pausing in time to avoid calling him Alpha. They didn't do that in Russia, and Alpha had told him more than once to call him 'Castiel' in public.
"Khoroshiy," Alpha said as he tore the card in half and then in quarters. "You can get your stuff, Din," he continued, tossing the business card into the ashtray and lifting a face, adorned with a soft smile meant for him alone, to Dean. "Now, come here, moy sladkiy," he invited, and before Dean knew what was coming, he had Castiel's strong arm low around his waist and was being pulled to Alpha's side, into his sweet, happy scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds.
Without thinking, he placed a hand on his shoulder, which immediately quivered with a faint but unmistakable purring that everyone in the room must have heard. Castiel's Lieutenants, as well as Vadim and Jacob, and the third whose name he did not know.
He cast a quick glance at the men seated around the table.
He felt a little uncomfortable in this position, under the scrutiny of so many eyes, so many important eyes, in fact, but there was no indication that the Alpha felt the same way. Still, Dean found it hard to relax and lean into the otherwise comfortable embrace, and when Castiel took his hand and kissed the backs of his fingers, it certainly didn't help his confidence.
He bristled a little, and a tingle ran down his spine, but of course he didn't flinch, even though that was the first thought that crossed his mind.
"Would you like something to eat?" Castiel asked casually.
"Uh... I had lunch," he replied, then paused, partly because he sensed a hint of Castiel's displeasure, but also because of the thought of homemade pie, Russian pancakes, and 'yablochnaya babka,' as Cas called the apple cheesecake with pieces of toast they made here, which actually wasn't bad, "but I'll never turn down something sweet."
"Excellent!" Alpha grunted in satisfaction and turned to Jacob. "Prinesite stul dlya Dina"
"Da, boss," Jacob nodded. He took one of the chairs standing against the wall and placed it to the right of Pyotr, who willingly moved a bit further away to make room not only for the chair, but also for Dean. At the same time, Beta held the chair out to him when Cas let go of it and motioned for him to sit down.
It was embarrassing enough to have his chair held by an Alpha, let alone this, but Dean swallowed his pride and accepted the offered seat. Jacob shoved the chair under his ass with the same dexterity as Cas and then politely stepped back.
"Otnesite eto v yuvelirnyy magazin, chtoby pochinit' krepleniye. Podozhdite, poka oni sdelayut eto i prinesite obratno," he said something to Jacob and handed him the cross chain. He did so respectfully and carefully, as if it were something very fragile, and Beta treated it with the same reverence.
Alpha waited until Beta, still unknown to Dean, closed the door behind Jacob before turning to Dean.
"I'll introduce you to my friends," he said, but first he took a cigarette from his pack and lit it; everyone was silent, waiting for him to put the lighter down. Then he motioned to Pyotr with the lit cigarette, which half surprised Dean. He knew that Beta was not only Castiel's right-hand man but also a friend, but it was simply the custom to introduce the oldest Alpha in the room first and then the others. So Castiel should have introduced the balding guy in the vest facing Dean first.
"You already know Pyotr Nikitovich well," Cas said casually, leaning back into a comfortable sitting position and taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Sure. Good to see you again."
"You too, Dean Yankovich," Beta surprised him by using not only his name, but the strange nickname one of Alpha's men sometimes gave him.
"This is Vlad Vladanovich." Castiel motioned to the other Alpha with the stub of his cigarette.
Dean blinked. Seriously? His name was Vlad? Was that a real name in Russia, or did he get it from that movie vampire? Either way, it sounded pretty crazy and a little ridiculous.
"Um... very nice to meet you... Mister... Vlad-ano-chi..." he said carefully and politely, lowering his eyes and head accordingly.
The hulking Alpha grunted in acknowledgement, baring his teeth a bit in the common need of all Alphas to show Omeza their superiority at close range, but still... He couldn't say that this Alpha didn't deserve respect. He certainly did, at least his Omega thought so, even though he wasn't even remotely a match for Castiel and his influence on more than just Dean. He certainly was, or at least his Omega thought so, even though he was no match for Castiel and his influence on more than just Dean. But there was more of a confident calm and a certain polite duty in that growl than the genuine desire to show who was boss that he heard in the growls of most of the other Alphas.
Granted, he didn't know this Alpha yet, he might turn out to be a slimy Knot, but so far he hadn't shown any signs of usual Knottiness. Perhaps out of respect for the fact that Dean belonged to Castiel.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet Castiel's Omelub..." he said in a deep voice with a clear Russian accent that resonated in the large fake leather beard that hung below his real chin.
"Daniil Vasilievich," Cas went straight to the chubby blond.
The latter gave Dean a perfectly white, almost artificial smile, and unlike the first two introductions, he stood and reached over Pyotr to shake Dean's hand.
" Hi!" He greeted perfectly, almost accentlessly, and so he continued, his grip firm and friendly, like the waft of feather scent that resonated beneath the cologne of some tropical flowers. "Call me Danny, like everybody else."
"Good. I'm Dean..."
"Two big D's. You and me together," he gestured with his hand between them, "have some really big things coming up."
Even though Danny's English was perfect and unaccented, he still didn't understand what he meant. There was nothing to do but smile and reply politely. Before he did, he glanced at Cas, who gave him no clue as to the correct answer.
"Right. Whatever..." he said neutrally.
That seemed to be enough for Beta, because he winked at Dean and sat down again.
"Maxim Alexandrovich." He nodded at the pale, long-haired man.
Another completely insane name. Did anyone here have a normal one, like Will, Jack, John... something he could pronounce without breaking his jaw and biting his tongue. But okay, Maxim... Max... that wasn't so bad and Alexander wouldn't have been either if it wasn't for the ending.
Luckily, he didn't have to try to pronounce it, because the skinny longhair just nodded his head in his direction, so all he had to do was nod back.
"And finally, we have our... Man of the Day!" Castiel waved his hand at the last Beto in a somewhat dramatic gesture, his voice sounding amused, the corners of his mouth quivering with a smile, and he shouted in satisfaction with a hint of mockery; this was sort of how he looked when he teased and embarrassed Dean with some silly jokes and remarks, only there was a gentle warmth in his eyes that was missing this time.
"Oleg Nikolayevitch!" Castiel raised his voice and his beer as if in a toast.
The table rose in a hawk.
Pyotr raised his pint, as did Castiel, and shouted as he pounded the table. The blond man used a straight fist instead of a palm and was a hundred times louder than Pyotr, the bearded Alpha shouted, "Hip, hip! Hurrah!" He raised his glass almost to his head. The last of the Alpha lieutenants remained silent, but he too raised his glass of amber liquid, probably whiskey or bourbon, in a toast.
It was clear that Oleg's birthday was being celebrated here, so he subtly joined in. What was a little confusing was the look that appeared on Beta's face. A disgusted scowl. That's exactly how he would describe it.
"Tseluyte menya v zhópu, suki!" Beta snorted and made a hand gesture where he raised his clenched fist and stuck out his thumb between his index and middle fingers.
Dean didn't know exactly what that meant or what Oleg had said, but he guessed the context, partly because of the laughter around the table, including the fact that even Castiel chuckled before taking a drag from his cigarette. Still, he was confused. For a moment it looked like they were celebrating something, and then Oleg told them all to fuck off.
The familiar, warm weight of Alpha's hand came down on the back of his head and he leaned into it instinctively, trying hard not to make some kind of humiliating sound like a purr. Instead, he simply turned to Cas.
"Oleg Nikolayevich is starting a three-month state-paid vacation on Rikers tomorrow, so let's drink to that."
Aha! Now it all made sense. This wasn't a celebration of someone's birthday or a bachelor party or anything like that. It was a celebration of one of them going to prison, because who else but criminals could celebrate something like that, right?
The question on his mind was what he was going to do for three months. It didn't seem like a big deal. It looked like some kind of traffic violation. Did mobsters go to jail for traffic violations? But before he could ask, Blondie answered his unspoken question:
"After ten years, he still hasn't gotten used to how American parking meters work," Danny chuckled. "He still had community service to do. Too bad he didn't do it. I'd love to see him on the freeway in a sexy orange vest!"
"Ya by s radost'yu zaplatil za takoy vid!" The bearded Alpha laughed, his chin quivering like a guy's Christmas turkey.
"Vy staya zlobnykh ublyudkov, i ya nadeyus', chto sobaki otgryzut vam khery..." Oleg snorted in annoyance.
"Bednyye sobaki. Oni ne stali by yest' zdes' mnogo ot Kena," said Pyotr with friendly amusement and patted the blond Betu on the shoulder.
Another laugh rang through the room, this time from Oleg as well, but Danny, whom Pyotr now called Ken, didn't look too amused. Dean glanced from one to the other, trying to guess what they were talking about while maintaining a smile. That was easy. It was as easy as smiling and nodding knowingly when Sammy spent hours enthusiastically explaining some new thing that interested him. Still, a feeling of detachment nagged at him. He knew where it came from. It was those damn Omega instincts. Shit about being some kind of bonding element. Handing out food, taking care of others, bringing them fucking blankets when they were cold. Normally, he could ignore these thoughts, so why not this time?
Yeah, right, he figured it out right away. He was giving his Omega too much freedom. He cleaned the house like a housewife - look, he rearranged the dishes so he knew where everything was counted - he served Castiel food all the way to bed - the fact that he couldn't get out of bed didn't count as an excuse - and he even built a nest. He was becoming a real Omega, and being kicked out of the collective made him feel bad. How could he fall like that?
"All right, dorogoy?" Castiel's voice sounded close to his ear.
Dean realized then that he was lost in thought, and even the continuing clear conversation in Russian had turned into a mixture of rising and falling harsh voices mixed with laughter. His brain no longer even tried to catch the few words he knew. He gave up. It wasn't worth it.
"Yeah, right," he nodded, turning to his Alpha with a smile. "Wasn't there talk of food?"
"Da, of course," Cas nodded, waving to the Beta who had been guarding them the entire time. "Prinesite Dinu menyu."
"Da, boss," Beta replied and left the room.
Dean dismissed him with a quick glance before turning his attention back to the guys sitting at the table. It seemed that whatever they had been talking about earlier had stopped and moved on to something else. More specifically, the bearded Alpha was talking to the long-haired man in black, Blondie was dividing his attention between the action at the table and the hockey match that was playing on the TV, while Pyotr and Oleg were completely immersed in the game. Pyotr even turned his chair around so he could see clearly.
Dean glanced over to see that new teams were taking the ice, which was probably why the conversation had stopped and most of Alpha's men had turned to the TV. He guessed that they had either watched a replay or old footage earlier. Since he'd never been much interested in hockey, he could tell by the flag that one team was Canadian and the other must be from Europe. He didn't recognize the flag of the country. Not that he could identify flags European countries. He was glad that he could name at least two thirds of his own countries.
Anyway, this place looked like every guys' night out he'd ever been to, which shouldn't have surprised him anymore, but... he still had the image of the Mafia stuck in his head like a movie cutout. An image that Cas and Pyotr had fit a few days ago, but not now. I don't think he'll ever get used to this contradiction.
Beta returned, bringing with him a menu bound in handsome leatherette covers with a bit of worn gold leaf and floral ornamentation around the edges. With a small smile, he involuntarily remembered all the fumbled and sun-faded laminated menus that had passed through his hands and opened this fine one, only to have the smile immediately fade from his face.
The menu was printed on paper with a small black sheet at the top, and each page was individually laminated, and everything was clean and unbroken - he could almost believe that it was a menu just for Cas and the Bratva members - the only problem was that it was all in that weird Russian font.
He snapped the menu shut and, turning to Beta who was still behind him, picked it up to hand it back.
"Sorry, buddy, but I can't read much into this."
Beta had the look of a man who didn't understand a word, except maybe the fact that Dean was handing the menu back to him, so he reached for it, only Castiel was quicker.
He deftly opened the menu with one hand, holding a cigarette in the other, and caught the pages with his thumb just long enough to quickly turn the page before letting the menu close again.
"Durak!" Cas growled half-mouthed, more annoyed than really angry, flashing his golden fang. "Ty prinos menyu na russkom."
"Ya proshu proshcheniya. Ya ne znal, chto on ne govorit na nashem yazyke. Ya prinesu menyu na angliyskom yazyke," Beta apologized, and as Dean guessed from the fact that he spoke English, he might have offered to bring a proper menu.
But Alpha waved his hand in a way that said it all, so Beta just did something like a small bow and backed away.
"Come closer. I'll translate for you," he urged Dean and put out his cigarette.
Without objection, Dean moved himself and his chair to the corner of the table, so that he was in a pleasant haze of Alpha's cherry scent, even the warmth of his body, and the weight of Cas's arm came down around his shoulders. Dean relaxed under the touch, probably slumped a little, leaning his arm against the table and leaning forward to get a good look at the menu that Alpha had propped against the edge of the table and his knees. He couldn't understand the words, but there was a picture next to each item, so he could choose from that as well.
Castiel scanned the menu quickly, but Dean managed to catch a few of the images. He saw what looked like pieces of lard sprinkled with basil, or a plate full of pieces of fish, similar to what they put on sushi. Then there were soups, a thick green one that probably had chunks of meat in it, and one that had cabbage in it. Oh my God! What were the Russians doing with the cabbage? Why did they put it everywhere?
Then there was more cabbage. The dish he brought from Doll's with the mushroom sauce and pickled vegetables.
And then Castiel finally turned to the page where Dean recognized the very first picture. Russian pancakes. Blini. That was a pretty easy word to remember and not so terrible to pronounce, unlike... well, like Cas' whole name.
Leaving the pancakes for a moment, he shifted his gaze to the next item.
"Hey! I know that. Those are Chinese dumplings!" He tapped the image with his finger.
"No. Those are vareniki," Castiel corrected him. "They're like Chinese dumplings, but they don't have meat in them. You can choose between blueberry filling or cottage cheese with raisins."
"That sounds... kind of weird."
He frowned at the picture, which was just Chinese dumplings with scoops of white cream, which he guessed was probably whipped cream. That was consistent with Cas's claim, since whipped cream definitely didn't go with Chinese dumplings, but it was still strange. The Chinese dumplings were made of the same dough as spaghetti. Who eats sweet spaghetti unless they have to? On the other hand, the spaghetti with jam and hazelnut cream wasn't bad.
"I'll take half a portion of each," he decided, grabbing the edge of the menu to tilt it a little so he could see the next picture better in the dim light and smoky air. There was porridge on it. Nothing too fancy. "What's that?"
"This is Kasha Guryevskaya," Castiel replied, "Guryevskaya porridge. The base is..." he paused, frowning a little. "Actually, I don't know the English word for it. It's 'krupa'... coarsely ground wheat."
"Semolina...?"
"Yes, that's probably it," he nodded thoughtfully. "Semolina is cooked in milk and then nuts, dried fruit, honey, various spices are added... Ulyana Leonidovna makes it a little different each time, depending on what ingredients she has on hand."
As he spoke, a subtle whiff of sweet cherry satisfaction told Dean that, unlike the Vareniki, he liked this porridge. It didn't look special at first glance, and the sprig of something green on top or the thick dusting of sugar and cocoa didn't make it any better, but the Alpha liked this dish, and yes, it was hard not to at least try it.
"Okay, I'll try it." He decided to give in to his Omega urge and try something new. As long as it didn't have cabbage in it.
"With the vareniki?" Cas asked, raising his eyebrows slightly in question and surprise.
"Sure!" He bared his fangs in an amused grin. Hadn't Alpha figured out long ago that he could eat anything with a tablecloth, as uncle Bobby used to say?
Cas narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, giving Dean a long look before shaking his head and turning away.
"Okay. You'll get everything you want, but..." he turned back to Dean and lifted his chin considerably, "if you don't finish this and Ulyana Leonidovna comes here, you'll have to apologize to her yourself. I don't want to upset her."
Dean chuckled.
"I hope you're not afraid of the cook..." he trailed off, laughing in his voice, but so low that no one could hear it over the loud television. He meant it as a joke, of course, a little tease, a little dangerous even for him, considering they were in public, and he put his hand on Castiel's knee as he did so.
Only the Alpha didn't look amused. There was no devilish gleam in his eyes, no hidden smile curling his lips.
"Ulyana Leonidovna is an excellent cook, and like the others here," he nodded slightly to the men sitting around the table, "I have respect for her cooking skills and for herself. And if you ever want to eat her apple pie again, you should have it."
"Wait... that... I didn't mean that in a bad way," he said quickly, because despite how ridiculous it sounded, he was a little embarrassed. And the Alpha was right. Someone who could make such great pies definitely deserved his respect.
"I respect her cooking, too. She makes some of the best pies I've ever had, and believe me, I know a thing or two about them. I've eaten pies in every diner or restaurant we've been to from here to California. I'm a pie expert!"
This time, the blue lagoons of Castiel's eyes flashed with rays of amusement, and a hint of sweetness teased Dean's nose.
"In that case, I'll order something else for both of us," Castiel decided, slamming down the menu. "Ulyana Leonidovna makes the best Bird's Milk I've ever had. You must try it."
"What?" He asked uncomprehendingly. Bird's milk? What the hell was that? Sure, he didn't think it was real bird's milk, because birds didn't have milk, but the name was suspicious. It had better not be something like the bird's nest soup that was soaked in bird saliva and poop. After all the cabbage and moldy cheese and other things Cas was willing to put in his mouth and enjoy, nothing would surprise him.
"What's this?" he asked worriedly, just as Castiel was calling Beta to bring back the menu and give him his order.
"You'll see, dorogoy," the Alpha replied with a suspiciously amused smile, and set about dictating the order, clearly unwilling to discuss it further.
Notes:
Prinesite stul dlya Dina - Bring a chair for Dean.
Otnesite eto v yuvelirnyy magazin, chtoby pochinit' krepleniye. Podozhdite, poka oni sdelayut eto i prinesite obratno - Take it to a jewelry store to have the mounting fixed. Wait for them to do it and bring it back.Tseluyte menya v zhópu, suki! - Get in my ass, bitches!
Ya by s radost'yu zaplatil za takoy vid! - I would gladly pay for a view like this!
Vy staya zlobnykh ublyudkov, i ya nadeyus', chto sobaki otgryzut vam khery - You are a pack of evil bastards and I hope the dogs bite your dicks off.
Bednyye sobaki. Oni ne stali by yest' zdes' mnogo ot Kena - Poor dogs. They wouldn't eat much of Ken's here.Prinesite Dinu menyu - bring Dean a menu
Ty prinos menyu na russkom. - You bring the menu in Russian.
Ya proshu proshcheniya. Ya ne znal, chto on ne govorit na nashem yazyke. Ya prinesu menyu na angliyskom yazyke, - I apologize. I didn't know he didn't speak our language. I'll bring a menu in English....
Illustration and recipe: LINK
Chapter Text
Time passed lazily. The waiters brought a steady parade of beers, whole bottles of spirits and full plates of food, taking only dirty dishes and cigarette butts from the quickly overflowing ashtrays. By this time Dean had somehow become numb. Part of it was the good food - the horrible Bird's Milk was, after all, a shortcrust cake topped with marshmallow and drizzled with chocolate - the beer and a couple of shots that Castiel and Pyotr had helpfully poured for him, and probably the marijuana and maybe the nicotine floating around in the heavy haze of cigarettes. And by the way... he'd gotten used to the omnipresent smoke, too. It didn't sting his eyes or nose anymore, and he didn't really feel like he was in a gas chamber.
The only brief interruption was when Jacob came back with the cross and Alpha hung it back where it belonged, just like the other day in the changing room; around his neck. The light weight of the chain and the rapidly warming gold of the cross itself were comforting. His Omega grunted something to the effect that now he could finally see what kind of Alpha it belonged to. He could sit back, a bowl full of single portions and a pint of beer at his side, and watch the fight he was slowly getting a taste for.
He learned that the teams playing against each other were Canada - as he had expected - and Bulgaria. He had never heard of that country before, so he guessed it was somewhere in Eastern Europe. And it looked like they had some pretty good hockey players. They kicked some ass against the Canadians, and everyone knew they were one of the best in the world.
"Damn!" came from the far corner, where Max was sitting, when Bulgaria were finally declared the winners. In the end he proved to be a little quieter and more reserved than the others, but after a few drinks he talked himself out of it, and when Bulgaria crushed Canada he swore as much, though more politely, than Oleg and Danny.
"You've got to be kidding me..." Oleg growled in a way that would put many an Alpha to shame.
"Fuck, how...?" Danny snapped, slamming his palm down on the table in anger.
"Well, gentlemen," Vladko echoed in satisfaction, reaching for his glass, leaning back lazily and baring his Alpha fangs in a condescending smile. "Looks like all your money is mine from now on."
"Hey, suck me!" Danny waved him off. "It doesn't count anyway! The referee's a blind bastard." He gestured with his hand and for a moment seemed to seriously question the wager, but then he snorted. "Fucking gambling!"
"'Da, da," Pyotr shook his head with an amused grin and pulled a small black notepad out of his pocket. "That's the life of a gambler, brat. You're down once and up again. So..." he opened the notebook, glanced inside and then looked around the table. "I hope I don't have to extort money from any of you with a gun in my hand," he said it lightly, like it was a joke, but Dean had a feeling he might as well have.
Oleg mumbled something in Russian under his beard - the first extended Russian for a long time after Castiel had indicated they should speak English by answering everything in English only - and reached into his pocket for his leather wallet with a picture of a bulldog's head printed on it. The others joined him. Max had the money in a plain Walmart-style wallet, while Danny pulled the crumpled money straight out of his pockets and, after a cursory inspection, threw it in front of Pyotr, who straightened and stacked it. At this point, Pyotr looked like a real Mafia banker, which brought a smile to Dean's face, which became a little unnerving as Castiel leaned against the edge of the table and began to count the bills, which were tucked into a gold bird clip. His fingers ran over the green sheets of paper and a cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, caught by a gold fang. His eyes were lazily squinted and he looked quite content until he made a slightly irritated sound and the bitterness of almonds asserted itself in his scent.
"Fuck it!" He snorted, pulled all the money out of his clip, tossed it to Pyotr, and fell back into his chair with a grunt. "Take it all. I still owe you for yesterday anyway," he added, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and taking a swig of beer.
"Bad week?" Vlad asked with a hint of provocation in his tone and the irritating smell of mouse that came with anger and discontent.
Cas glanced at him, adding a flash of fangs and a deep growl as he moved the mug away from his lips.
"To put it mildly," he said calmly, despite the growl and the gestures. "Apart from today, I'm in for fifty."
Fifty? Dean doubted he meant 'fifty' dollars, as he'd just handed Pyotr a good nine hundred. Apart from that, where and how the hell had the Alpha managed to sift through fifty fucking thousand? After all, he had been in bed until this morning, just sleeping or... oh, right. The big job he wanted privacy for had to be internet betting. That made sense.
"You can try to cure yourself with a game," Danny suggested, conjuring up a bright smile and a deck of cards. "How about that?"
Castiel made a murmur of agreement and tapped his finger on the edge of the table to indicate that he was in. Pyotr agreed with a short 'I'm in', Vlad nodded and Max held up a finger.
"... I'm going with the sand first," he added, standing up and pushing past the shorter side of the table.
A clicking and grinding sound was the first thing he noticed. The room, suddenly silent considering the Beta guard had turned the TV down to barely a quarter of its volume, echoed with this new sound. Immediately afterwards, Dean noticed that Beta was buckling his left leg. Or rather, that it buckled in a strange but familiar way. He knew the sound and the unnatural movement. In fact, he'd seen it for the first time when Sammy wasn't even born. That was when he and his dad had gone to visit an old friend, a secret he couldn't tell his mum because they were going to a neighbouring town and then to the hospital. It was a veterans' hospital and dad's friend from the army was in the psychiatric ward and they had to go all the way through the hospital to get to him. There were corridors where men and women came and went in wheelchairs, on crutches or with artificial legs or arms or both.
In later years, when mum was away and they travelled around the States, he met more veterans. Dad had many friends and acquaintances from the war, scattered from North to South, and more than a few of them carried a scar or worse from their service. Including prosthetics.
That was it. It was the strange movement of his leg.
Beta didn't have a leg, and judging by the clicking and scraping sound, he'd lost it above the knee.
The Beta guard opened the door for Max and closed it behind him.
Dean frowned thoughtfully, his eyes still on the door.
He couldn't help but like the sound Beta's prosthesis made, and it wasn't that it had to be the old, mechanical type. The newer, electronic ones made more of a whistling sound, like the robot sounds in the movies, when he walked. It made people sound like real cyborgs. Max's prosthetics squeaked like a poorly lubricated machine. And Dean was sensitive to strange noises in machines. Definitely not something wrong, but he'd have to see the prosthetic to know what.
He shoved a single bite into his mouth and sipped his beer as he leaned back into the warm palm the Alpha was lazily stroking at the back of his neck, this time letting a short, low growl bubble up from his chest. He was pleasantly drunk enough to care, and he was pretty sure the others in the room had enough in them too.
Castiel certainly did.
His breath smelled of cigarettes, fish, sweet porridge and booze as he leaned into Dean. Lots of booze. And when he draped his arm over Dean's shoulder to slide it under his plaid shirt and put his cheek against his ear, Alpha's body radiated drunken warmth, and when he spoke, his voice was huskier than ever.
"Counting flies, sladkiy?"
"Hmm?" Dean murmured questioningly, turning his head towards Alpha.
"You're missing out. What are you thinking?" He clarified his previous question, and though his features were relaxed and his voice drunkenly raspy, there was a blue spark of interest in his eyes.
"I was thinking about... um... Max's leg," he replied quietly, letting his voice get lost in yet another loud conversation about the match they had just seen. He didn't want Alpha's men to hear him address one of them, but... hell, after five beers and some of that moonshine, he'd managed to pronounce some of their names correctly.
Castiel cocked his head to one side, questioningly.
Dean paused.
Was it possible he didn't know about Beta's missing leg? That seemed rather odd, considering Cas seemed to know everything about everyone.
"I mean... you know... his prosthetic..." he answered vaguely, waving his hand as if it were nothing.
"Da. What about it?"
"I don't know exactly," he admitted. "I'd have to see it, but... it sounds strange. It's screeching and stuff." He couldn't really describe what he was hearing or why he didn't like it, and since Alpha's expression was unreadable, he quickly added, "Hey, it's nothing. Forget it."
"You're right. His knee creaks. If there's anything you can do about it, do it," he added, pulling away as the guard had just opened the door and let Max in.
Dean shot the Alpha a look of surprise and disbelief. Did he mean he should do something about it right now? Well, if there was no other way, he could, but...
"Maxime Alexandrovich," Castiel said to Betas, who had just creaked into place, "Dean is going to have a look at your knee and hopefully get us rid of that awful creak."
"Oh, thank the Lord!" Danny cheered immediately. "One more moment and I would have shot that knee right through."
"It's not that bad..." grumbled Max, who didn't look like he was making a big deal out of such a public discussion about his leg.
As far as Dean knew, people had different reactions to it. Some didn't want to talk about the prosthetics at all, others were so comfortable with them that they would take them off in the middle of a barbecue.
"Sounds like a whore wrapped in foil," Oleg chimed in with a laugh.
Alpha Vlad - fuck, that was a really weird name - and Pyotr and Danny joined in, only Cas remained silent, just smiling through the cigarette he was lighting.
"Khoroshiy. I'll let the... young one take a look," Max agreed, sending a quick glance at the guard at the same time and beckoning him with his hand.
The Beta sitting by the door stood up immediately, took a chair from the wall below the screen and placed it to Max's right, next to his prosthetic. The Beta Lieutenant leaned back against the backrest and sank into the chair with the dexterity of someone who had grown accustomed to his prosthesis. He must have had it for years... Dean gave him a quick once-over from head to toe, concentrating for once instead of being carried away by the pleasant, warm haze of alcohol. Ignoring his rather unhealthy pallor and the purple bags under his eyes that belonged to someone who hadn't slept, he wasn't in bad shape. Thin, yes, but not unhealthy. His back was kept straight, like many an Alpha, he sat with his knees together, his hair was cut short, and in general the way he looked... This guy had been in the military for a while, but he'd also been out of it for a while. He still had some of his old discipline, but he also had that civilian flair now.
"I hope you don't get scared, Dean Yankovic," he remarked as he began to roll up his trouser leg, revealing first his boot and then the sock he had pulled up on the foot of his prosthetic leg.
The sock ended and was pulled down with some sort of rubber band, and above the pull-up was the strut of the prosthetic, partially covered by the mechanism of the joint that Beta revealed the next moment.
"I'm not just going to be scared," he assured him, standing up and crouching down in front of Max.
He grabbed what would have been a calf on a human and lifted his leg a little to have a look at it. Just then, it made that unpleasant grinding sound that came directly from the round joint itself, supported by a simple piston mechanism.
Damn...! This thing was really old. At least twenty years old, and maybe already obsolete. Heavy stainless steel, old hard plastic that Dean thought must have cut into the rest of Beta's actual leg, and he'd bet the bottom of the boot had a foot that looked like it had been stolen from an old dress dummy. There wasn't a single wire or battery, no silicone, no fake leather... nothing. It looked rough, all right, and the foot had been well cared for, but... couldn't someone like Max buy a better prosthetic? He must be at least as rich as Cas. Dean guessed it was probably because he was used to it.
"Wow! Okay, that's a bit of a museum piece," he didn't allow himself to notice.
"Just like you, Maxim," Alpha Vlad jabbed.
"Let's see who's dancing on whose grave," Maxim shot back before lowering his eyes to Dean. "I've had it for twenty-six years. Still serves me well."
"Yeah, sure, I think so," he assured him in a turn; he really did understand. Old things had their charm, like cars. "It's in very good shape. What I meant to say is that fixing the squeak won't be a problem. All I need is a screwdriver, a bottle of cooking oil, a roll of toilet paper and..." he looked around for a container, “and this empty glass," he added, nodding his head toward the table.
It was Pyotr who reached for the jar and handed it to him, while Castiel nodded to the Beta guard, sending him to get the things Dean had asked for. As the door closed behind the Beta, there was a bit of a tense silence in the room and all eyes were on the back of Dean's head. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, for even though the stares were curious and a little judgmental, they were also so intense that it took him a while to realise who he was actually sitting in a small room with.
They weren't just a bunch of guys, old friends who had gone to their favourite pub to have a beer, watch the game and chat, even if they acted and looked like it. They were criminals. Mobsters. Dangerous people. And it's hard to feel comfortable with someone like that staring at you.
Dean cleared his throat a little, swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and looked up at Max, who was watching him from above. He was uncomfortable in this position, and his need to say something wasn't helped by the urge to relax, which wasn't just due to his nature - he hated tense silences so much - but also to his Omega instincts, which urged him to... how could he put it... keep the Alpha pack cool at all times? Yes, that was a way of framing what his inner Omega was trying to tell him.
"So... where did you serve? If it's not a secret," he finally broke the silence.
"What makes you think I served?"
"Well... apart from the leg," he glanced down at the prosthetic for a moment, only to realise that he was still holding it like an idiot, so he let it go. "It's obvious you have training. I can tell."
"Da. Served, but it's been a long time..." replied Alpha Vlad for Max
"... And he can hide it fucking well from most people," Oleg added to that.
"Dean Yankovic recognised it because his father served too. Right, my friend?" Pyotr joined in the conversation, turning the question to Dean.
"Yes," he nodded. "My Alpha dad is a retired Marine. Afghanistan. That's why your leg doesn't scare me and I know how to fix it. I know some of my dad's friends who are in a similar situation."
"Chechnya," Max said; Dean frowned in confusion. "The Chechen conflict in ninety-nine."
"Oh," he replied neutrally, not having the faintest idea what the Alpha lieutenant was talking about. He could only assume it was some European war that had happened and ended before he was born... right? There was no war going on anywhere in Europe now, was there?
"Chechnya is one of the subjects of the Russian Federation. When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Chechen separatists, backed by Islamic terrorists, declared an independent republic. Ten years later, after two military conflicts, Russia regained Chechnya. That's the history of Chechnya in a nutshell," Castiel sums up between two puffs on his cigarette.
"I knew people who made a lot of money out of it," Alpha pointed out.
"War always brings in a lot," Pyotr nodded.
At that moment the door opened and the Beta that Cas had sent to fetch things came back, carrying a toolbox as well as a bottle of oil and toilet paper. He left everything with Dean, after asking Max's permission, of course.
"Thanks... um... spasi-boa..." he tried to say thanks in Russian, which of course Beta didn't understand. He kept a neutral, stony face and simply stepped back to give Dean more space.
"Let's see..." he muttered to himself, opening the case with one hand while the other ran his fingers over the screws holding the joint cover in place.
"What exactly do you have planned?" Max asked.
"I'm going to remove this cover," he tapped the grey piece of plastic with his finger, "and flush the joint mechanism with oil. It's an old trick, but it really works," he assured an obviously still disbelieving Beta. "Kitchen oil has a lower viscosity than machine oil, vaseline or modern gel pastes. It washes out all the dust and gunk," he said as he quickly unscrewed the cover to reveal the joint itself. "Now you have to trust me... or you know what? Do it yourself," he changed his mind and held the bottle of oil up to Max. If Beta did it himself, he'd be more comfortable with it. Dean was sure of that.
"Okay..." Max agreed, still in an unconvinced tone, and took the bottle of oil with a quick glance over Dean's head, surely aimed at Castiel.
"Pour slowly, just a trickle," he instructed as he rolled a large amount of paper onto his hands. "Meanwhile, I'll move the knuckle to get the oil everywhere."
Beta tilted the bottle over his artificial knee and let a thin strand of sunflower-scented oil trickle through the joint mechanism itself into the prepared pint. Dean, meanwhile, gripped the metal calf and moved his foot slowly. Slowly up and down, and it got easier with each movement. When the bottle was only half full, Dean felt that was enough. He let the joint move freely, not wanting to wash all the gel paste out again. If he did, the leg might get stuck before Max got home, as the oil tended to dry out quickly.
"Good. That's enough," he stopped him.
Beta stopped pouring and dropped the bottle. Dean used the toilet paper to wipe the excess oil off the prosthetic, both from the floor where a few drops had landed and soaked into the carpet - which was why the wiping hadn't been very effective - and tossed the crumpled ball of paper aside before picking up the pulitzer that held the oil level.
"See how that sounds," he challenged Beta, lifting himself up to make space for him.
Max had to lean against the back of the chair to help himself to his feet, but he did it with ease and great experience, and most importantly, without a creak. And it was obvious that the joint moved with much more ease than Beta was used to, because he staggered for a moment. Dean was close by. Spontaneously, he grabbed Maxim's forearm and steadied him. It wasn't until Beta stiffened under his touch and pulled away that he realised this wasn't the best idea, and when Maxi glanced over Dean's shoulder, it became clear why.
He wasn't sure what Castiel's lieutenant thought of his boss, but Cas wasn't that jealous. He had his possessive moments, but this certainly wasn't one of them. Still, he let Beta go quickly.
"So?" he asked.
Max didn't answer, just took a few steps, accompanied by the clicking sound of moving joints and pistons, but no unpleasant creaking.
"Looks... good," Beta said, stopping to face him.
"Yeah, I'll fix everything!" He declared immodestly, baring his teeth in a wide grin. "Now watch this," he held the beer in front of Max's face and reached into his pocket for his phone. With one hand he switched on the flashlight and held it to the bottom of the mug.
Though the contents were distorted by the curvature of the glass and the oil itself, a few dark threads were impossible to miss. They floated in the oil like tiny worms and hardly looked like they could cause all that squeaking, but combined with the dust and other dirt... yes, they definitely could. All the lubricant Beta had sprayed into the joint to get rid of the squeaking only made things worse. It was a breeding ground for more dirt. And if it was professional cleaning oils...? Well, the guys agreed that they sucked on old dentures.
"Damn. Now I understand why it squeaked so much," Max pointed out.
"Yeah. That's why." He took a lump of used toilet paper and stuffed it into a bottle. "Flush it like that every two or three months and it'll never squeak again."
"Heh... easy," Beta said thoughtfully, then smiled a little and raised his hand. "Thank you, Dean Yankovich.”
"You're welcome. Glad I did," he replied, wiping his slightly greasy hand on his trousers and accepting the proffered hand.
"It seems the things we heard about you," he glanced briefly at Castiel, "are true."
Dean also glanced over at his Alpha, who sat relaxed in his chair, legs outstretched in the room, one arm draped over the back of the chair, the other holding a smoldering cigarette, watching them from under lazily lidded eyes. He looked relaxed, almost sleepy.
"I hope it was mostly good stuff," Dean turned back to Beta.
"I'd never say anything else about you, dorogoy," Cas echoed oddly, his chair creaking as he leaned over the table to extinguish his cigarette. "Now stop stalling and come to the table. It's time to play. I'll deal," he added, reaching for the cards on the table.
Dean and Max exchanged another glance and then, obeying Alpha's command, returned to their seats.
°°0°°
Den shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and pulled his head down between his shoulders, closer to Cas's warm hand that rested at the back of his neck, the warmest defence against the night - early morning? - icy air.
His breath turned to thick steam in front of his face, and lamps, dustbins, cars and even the pavement glistened and sparkled with a thin frost. And, of course, it was slippery as they walked hastily but carefully to the door of the Mercedes the Golem was holding for them.
The giant Alpha was dressed in his usual 'uniform' and Dean didn't notice that he was cold as he passed him and got into the car. Damn jobs! Dean was definitely the one who was cold, and from the way Cas clasped his hands together, he felt the chill as well.
"Ugh..." he breathed, leaning back into the heated seat. "What time is it anyway?" He asked idly into the air, not even expecting an answer from Cas, and reached straight into his pocket for his phone.
With a glance he saw that it was almost five in the morning.
Holy shit!
He arrived at the Doll around three, and sometime around eight he stopped keeping track of the time altogether. They watched the game, then played a few hands of poker and something called Durak. There was a whole pile of money on the table, like a literal pile, moving from one to the next. Both the Alpha and his Lieutenants threw hundreds or even thousands into the pot as if it were nothing. Food and drink continued to be brought in, music played in the background at times... and things seemed to blur together. It was even possible that Dean had dozed off with the praise, because now he could feel the throbbing pain of an incipient hangover dancing behind his eyes, but he wasn't quite sure.
"Five and two minutes," Cas replied, his eyes not on his phone but on his gold watch.
"I've got to get up for school in three hours," he sighed, sliding down on the seat and stretching his legs as he washed his face.
He rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his gaze fell on the mirror tilted up from the ceiling. He didn't remember opening it. It must have fallen out by itself or one of them must have stumbled over it when they climbed in.
He lifted himself up a little, reached for the mirror and was about to snap it shut when something caught his attention.
The reflection in the mirror.
It was a silver Nissan. In theory that wouldn't have been anything special, there were three fucking Nissans everywhere and in those colours too, but the point was that he'd seen the same one standing in front of the Doll when they'd pulled up. And he was pretty sure it had the same number plate. He hadn't paid attention to it then, but now that he had seen it...
He tilted the mirror a little to get a better view and watched as the silver car glided through the light traffic just behind them. It followed them for a few bends before seemingly disappearing, only to reappear behind a dark Toyota that it had overtaken.
"Cas...?"
"Hmmm?" Alpha grunted, questioning but unconcerned.
Dean glanced back at him, only to find him doing something with his phone, drumming his fingers on the seat. Not nervous, but distracted.
"Someone's watching us."
That statement immediately caught Cas's attention, but unexpectedly only a lukewarm one. He lifted his head from his phone and leaned back on his hand to look into the mirror. Dean obligingly avoided him.
"Ah... da. I know about them," he said casually, leaning back in his seat, dropping his hand with the phone and running a weary hand through Dean's hair. "They've been watching Doll for a week now. Me and the boys are taking bets on whether they're Organised or Narcotics. Oleg guesses Vice. Probably not, but it would be a nice change."
Dean frowned slightly. Castiel had obviously known about the stakeout all along, and he wasn't worried at all.
"And you're meeting with the cops watching you?" He didn't understand. If it was up to him, he wouldn't be meeting his accomplices if he knew the cops were on their trail.
"And why wouldn't they?" Alpha asked in return, tilting his head to the side questioningly. "We're just old friends who go out for a beer every week or two... to stop doing that would be suspicious."
"Yeah, okay... I guess that makes sense," he conceded; there really was something to the fact that if they changed their habits, they'd draw even more attention to themselves, and changing habits meant increasing the risk of making a stupid mistake by panicking. Still... "They might have a bug in Doll. They might hear you talking business."
"Not only could. They have it," Cas was completely shocked by the answer, and especially by the fact that it was said with such ease.
"Wait! Damn it! Do you mean they heard everything we said today?" He shouted, half alarmed and half annoyed. And his Omega growled in defence of not only his Alpha but also his newfound, or rather growing, pack.
"Some of it, sure," the Alpha nodded as if nothing had happened, "but maybe not all of it. They don't have bugs in the Doll. We'll keep an eye on that. But they have a remote listening device and can tap a phone. Usually we use a signal jammer and a white noise generator, but not this time. We feed them hours and hours of completely irrelevant conversations. The more they have, the better. Without anything relevant to show the prosecutor, they'll have to stop the surveillance. Because they have a limited budget."
In a strange way that made sense, and it also made sense why Alpha's men were so friendly and cosy with him. It didn't matter what they really thought of him, they just wanted to look their best on the police tapes. Yes, it wasn't the most pleasant realisation, because he was really enjoying himself today, and apart from a few exceptional situations he felt safe with Alpha's lieutenants, but these wounded Omega sensibilities of his weren't important at all.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked pointedly.
Alpha raised his eyebrows slightly.
"I didn't know you were coming to see me in the Doll, and then there was no chance to... safely... tell you about it."
He washed his face and let out a tired sigh as a wave of anger washed over him, and now it had faded as Cas had a good explanation for not telling him. Because he hated it. Not being in the loop. Not knowing what was happening around him. To be constantly surprised by something. He just had to keep things under control. Actually, his Omega needed that as well. To know the terrain and to know that his Alpha was safe. Maybe he didn't need it all the time, and hell, he liked that he could count on Castiel. But he didn't like being so overprotective.
"I should have thought of that... after the cop showed up at the school..." he pointed out gruffly. He felt guilty for not seeing the bigger picture, but he was going to fix that now. "I'm going to be more careful," he turned to Cas. "I'll stay out of the way. I won't leave the apartment unless I have to, and no more sudden visits to the Doll or anything like that. I promise."
"That's not necessary. In fact, it would be rather suspicious. Act as you wish and do as you please. There's no reason to restrict ourselves just because we've got a couple of police bitches on our heels."
That was the exact opposite of what his father would have told him if they were in the same situation. He'd want Dean to hide and of course to take Sammy with him and if necessary to run as fast and as long as he could. But Cas... Cas just had other ways. But it was hard to suppress the urge to hide. Maybe it was the Omega instincts, everyone knew that Omegas preferred running and hiding to confrontation, and they used to be really good at both, but it was also Dad's training.
"I'd rather be careful..." he let his disapproval fade away.
"It's not the first or last time you'll be watched, moy sladkiy. This is our life. If you take it too hard, you'll live a life of fear."
He opened his mouth to object, but then closed it again. There was a little truth in it. This was his life now. He had to learn to live in it, not just survive.
He glanced quickly in the mirror to see that the car that had been following them had disappeared. He was pretty sure that one of the three cars following them had been manned by cops. They had simply switched patrols.
"Fine. I'll try," he muttered, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the mirror and put on a smile. He sent it in the direction of Alpha, then slid across the seat and leaned against his shoulder. Immediately he was enveloped by a warm arm and the smell of cherry tart with almond sprinkles.
Chapter Text
It was easy to tell Cas to ignore the cops, and easy to pretend to the guys driving him that they didn't see the cars following them, but Dean noticed. And he noticed when Vadim or Jacob gave a telling look through the rear-view mirror.
It annoyed him. It was also unnerving and a little scary. He wasn't worried about himself. He wasn't in any danger because he hadn't done anything... well, sort of. But he was worried about his Alpha, who probably had a file the size of a house with the NYPD and might have brought some more sins with him from Russia.
Was there still a capital punishment in Russia? Shit... was there capital punishment in New York?! He thought as he ran down the stairs to the ground floor of the school building.
Just thinking about it was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. His throat tightened with primal fear, which fortunately prevented him from whimpering pitifully like some poor hysterical Omega. The pressure of the fear and the counter-pressure of the parental whining fought in his throat, and that gave him enough time to weave his way through the gathering crowd, run down the stairs and make his way to the nearest bathroom.
He headed for the disabled stall, slamming the door sharply behind him and securing it before resting his forehead against the cool surface.
The thought of never seeing Alpha again was a shitty one in itself, but it was bearable when Cas was just far away, but alive and well. The thought of him dying and not even being able to defend himself was almost unbearable.
"Damn!" He slammed his fist into the door; it pissed him off with everything he was feeling and the fact that he was acting like a hysterical Omega. "You need to calm down, Winchester, and stop fooling around. Nothing is going to happen to Cas. There's no reason for him to be arrested," he muttered to himself, keeping his voice low in case someone came into the bathroom or was already there. He hadn't had time to check all the stalls before the panic attack overcame him, and the air was too thick with cleaning supplies and the multitude of odours from everyone who had passed through here today to be able to find anyone by smell alone.
The relative silence of the room, broken only by the sounds of hurried feet and voices muffled by the door, was shattered by the ringing of his mobile phone.
He jumped in fright.
This wasn't the best time for a call.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled the phone out with slightly shaking hands and looked at the screen.
It was Baum.
He couldn't turn it down. It was about Sammy and the outcome of the custody hearing. Maybe she had good news and Sam would come back to him. He missed his brother, his little puppy, more and more, and he was sure, as ridiculous as it was, that things would be better in every way if he were here now. On the other hand, the rational side, maybe this wasn't the best time for his little brother to come back. With the cops on his tail and all...
He took the call and held the phone to his ear.
"Good day, Alpha Baum."
"Good day, Omega Winchester," she returned his greeting with complete confidence, unlike him. "I have news from the preliminary hearing."
"Good?"
"No, I'm afraid not," she replied; Dean's stomach sank and he felt a wave of anger clench his jaw at the same time. "As we expected, the judge has not ruled that you should take your brother in at this time. According to the decision on my desk, he feels that the family he is with is more suited to his development."
"Shit!" He snarled, not caring that he wasn't supposed to talk to an Alpha like that, or use swear words, both of which were rude. "I'm his only available family. We're one blood. He's like my puppy. And I'm a bloody millionaire. How can he be better off with these people? They're Betas and... they've only got a little flat... and three kids in it and... what do they do? An accountant and a dental hygienist or something? What kind of work is that? They'll never... in their whole lives... make as much money as I do!" He spat out all his fear and anger, and was even vain enough to flaunt his name... or rather, Castiel's name. And now he had run out of strength, and the silence on the other side of the line seemed all the more uncomfortable.
"Are you finished?" Alpha asked.
"Um... yeah, I think so. I think I've said everything."
"I accept all your arguments, and I understand your reasons for being angry, but the denial of our request is no surprise. We expected it, and it's a small victory that the judge himself ordered the guardians to allow you to visit."
Dean chuckled.
Being able to see Sam in private, somewhere with a meal or something, was definitely better than the two opportunities they'd had. But it still wasn't enough. His Omega had demanded that her pup be returned to her, convinced that Dean now had the best conditions for Sam; a strong Alpha, a safe hiding place, even the damn nest.
He'd overruled her.
"Yeah, okay. I guess we need to work something out, right?"
"'Yes. It's four hours a week..."
That was bloody short. Why was it so little?
"Decide whether you want to use them together or split them into two days. Alternatively, you can put four hours straight on one day a week and two days of two hours each week in the draft schedule," the Alpha's lawyer explained. "Then we'll give the schedule to the lawyer for Sam's guardians for approval..."
"What lawyer? And why the approval? The judge said I'm allowed four hours a week with Sam. It's not like they can interfere," he cut her off sharply. Anger coursed through his veins again.
He'd looked after Sammy all his life, sometimes he was literally the only one who did. They were often together twenty-four hours a day. And now he had to ask someone to be with him for a measly four hours a week? He was his brother! He was the one who was supposed to take care of him, not some strangers.
"Of course they can," Alpha replied, unfazed by the interruption. "They have custody of him, and as his administrative guardians, they've already drawn up a schedule of daily activities for him. I've seen it. There are various science societies on it, as well as the Alpha wrestling school club and bengbinton classes."
What's that?They made Sam play ball? What kind of freak was that?
"I've seen it a hundred times," Bouma continued. "They fill Sam's free time with activities that society deems beneficial to a child's development, and then use them as an excuse to cut short your visits, or cancel and reschedule. It's an old trick."
"They can't get away with it, can they?"
"Unfortunately, they can. It always works."
"Can't you do anything about it? What am I paying you for? And not just a little!"
"I can deal with it, but it takes time," she replied, and he finally heard a certain edge in her voice, with a hint of Alpha command in it, but it wasn't nearly as strong as he might have expected, considering that he, a mere teenage Omega, had spoken to her rather sternly. Even if only over the phone. "You have to understand that the only way to get custody of your brother right now is for his current foster parents to give him up."
"And that will never happen..." he finished for her. She didn't have to say it out loud. "We shouldn't count on it," she nodded. "We should get together at the end of the week and calmly work out how you want your visitation schedule to look. That's the next step for now. My secretary will send you an email with suggested times for Thursday and Friday. Do you agree?"
"Yes... sure..."
"Don't lose hope or patience, Omega Winchester. We're only at the beginning of the battle and I intend to win it any way I can. Do you understand?"
"I understand... and thank you," he added because it seemed appropriate, not that he was really grateful to her.
"Take care."
"Bye," he said goodbye and ended the call.
Suddenly it was almost silent.
The sounds coming in through the two doors from the hallway had almost ceased as the main rush of students had left, and most of the nearest classrooms were quiet as well. And while the school was far from deserted, it was much quieter than during the busiest parts of the day.
This silence fell like an invisible weight on Dean's back, causing the mixture of fear, anger and frustration swirling in his gut to thicken into a heavy stone in his stomach. And a clenching sensation in his gums.
He clenched his fists, tightly, until he felt the blood drain from his knuckles, clenched his jaw to suppress the ghostly quiver in his gums, swung and slammed the door.
The thin plywood they were made of gave way and the knuckles of his hand went inwards into a fibrous paper-like structure. Fortunately, he softened his blow at the last moment and didn't break the door completely. That would have been quite a shame if he had actually broken through and someone had connected the dots. At least this way the door could be closed and he could sneak out before someone came to check the toilets.
Carefully pulling his hand out of the hole so as not to do any more damage, he stretched out his knuckles and rubbed them with his other hand, then, after listening briefly to see if the blow had attracted anyone, he walked out into the washroom. Closing the door firmly behind him.
He threw on his bag and left the bathroom, heading for the exit as if nothing had happened.
°°0°°
He half expected Vadim or Jacob - they were the only ones riding with him these days. Either the other men had to be somewhere else, away from the cops, or the boys had talked their way into being Dean's 'personal drivers'. Not that he was complaining. He liked those two best, and he needed to go somewhere for a pie and a big milkshake right now - they'd be standing outside looking for him because he hadn't gone in a long time, but strangely, there was no one there.
So he walked out into the cold, almost freezing air around the corner where the old Toyota used to be, pulled out his phone on the way, and started scanning the diners and patisseries in the area to decide which one to go to for pie. He found a few good-sounding names and even better-looking pictures of pies, so he was a little reassured.
Slipping his mobile back into his pocket, he guessed that was how he knew he'd be at the places where guys usually waited, he looked up and paused.
Instead of the Toyota, Alpha's Mercedes was standing at the curb.
He immediately had a flashback to when Castiel had surprised him like that at school, and it hadn't gone well at all. It probably wasn't a good sign this time either, although he had no idea what might have happened. Or why the Alpha was so angry that he'd come all the way out here again.
He hadn't been hanging out with anyone inappropriately, just Kev and Becky, and that was only at school. In fact, he hadn't left the flat much because, despite what he'd promised Castiel, he thought it would be better if he was more careful and didn't give the cops too much material about where he went and what he did there.
So there was nothing for the Alpha to get upset about.
Oh shit! He even had breakfast-dinner on the table every day, even if ordered from a restaurant. Different every time, and every time Dean served him the food on a plate, nice and neat, even with a cold beer. Like a damn housewife!
He pulled his bag further in front of him in an absurd and unnecessary gesture of defence and ran over to the other side.
He'd planned to knock on the window first and then climb in, but Golem had mysteriously slipped out of the driver's seat quickly, as if he'd been stuffed in there like a caramel in a box, and come to open it for him.
Dean gave the giant Alpha a quick nod of greeting and, after a moment's hesitation, leaned over to look into the back of the Mercedes.
The Alpha had just lifted a stern face from the phone on which he was typing, but when their eyes met, all coldness left the blue lagoons of Cas's eyes and the thin lines around his mouth and eyes became deep furrows as his expression softened and warmth permeated it.
"Din," he greeted, slipping his phone into pants pocket. "Come. Get in..." He tapped the seat beside him.
Though the Alpha seemed not only calm, but decidedly content, and the car was filled with his tart scent, Dean cautiously slipped into the back seat and remained seated near the door the Golem had closed behind him.
The car started.
Castiel cocked his head sideways and raised his eyebrows in question.
"You're not even going to say hello to me?"
"Yeah, of course I do," he replied, and with those words he moved closer to give Cas a quick peck on the lips.
As he pulled away, their eyes met and a frown creased Cas's forehead.
"That's it?" He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed Dean's chin, pulled his face to his and kissed him hotly on the lips. His tongue, tasting of cigarettes and some alcohol, forced its way into Dean's mouth as it always did. And when he tried to soften the kiss a little, the Alpha grabbed the back of his head and pulled him possessively against him, growling into the kiss in a way that sent shivers down Dean's spine and made the Omega roll onto his back, exposing his vulnerable stomach and throat.
He fought the urge to submit all the same, only knowing it was a losing battle. The Alpha's own scent that surrounded him, permeating every inch of Castiel's clothing and the car's upholstery, simply took hold of him, making him relax and submit.
With a moan, he ducked his head and placed a hand on the back of his neck in a firm and confident grip, wrapping his arm around Castiel's waist and responding to the kiss. The satisfied growl that escaped Cas's chest was his reward, as was the sound of the Alpha pulling away and burying his nose in the crook of Dean's neck.
He let his head fall to the side, exposing his scent gland and, more importantly, the mark on his shoulder to hungry lips and sniffing nose. It was only after Alastair's death that the Alpha regained his mark. Perhaps an eternity had passed since then, and now, as Castiel shrugged his shirt aside, the only thing that rang in his mind was; yes, God, yes!
A sharp yet exquisite pain washed over him as Castiel sucked skin, flesh and scent gland into his mouth, his sharp Alpha fangs sinking into the skin. They didn't penetrate, but the pressure was paralysing. He forced Dean to soften and Cas to do what he wanted. Only vaguely running through his mind were not only the fact that he'd been angry at the world until recently, but also vague memories of biology lessons and some kind of Omega reflex before the mating bite. At the moment, he didn't give a damn about those thoughts. All he cared about was the great feeling it gave him, as it always did when the Alpha marked him like that.
All too soon, the stinging pressure on his neck was gone, the warmth of Castiel's mouth gone, leaving an unpleasantly throbbing fresh mark, wetness and a tent in Dean's trousers. And the discomfort of the fading sensations prevented him from responding as the Alpha deftly unzipped his trousers with one hand, reached into his briefs, pulled out his hard cock and cupped it gently in his palm.
It only took a few lazy strokes before Dean had to stifle an orgasmic groan into Castiel's damn expensive jacket, leaving a proper stain in the form of chewed and drooling fabric.
"Damn...!" He gasped, falling back into his seat.
His whole body shook with a mixture of slowly returning annoyance, compounded by the fact that he had lost himself so quickly, orgasm and the fading sensations of the brand.
"That was a much better welcome," Alpha pointed out, and there was something in the undertone that managed to set Dean off. It was mockery and condescension rolled into one.
He turned sharply towards him and pursed his lips angrily at the sight of Alpha sprawled comfortably, legs spread - and trousers without a hint of arousal - and wiping his hand on one of his white handkerchiefs.
"Fuck!" Dean's growl escaped him as he quickly began to shove his junk back into his trousers. He didn't really feel satisfied anymore, as much as he felt a little humiliated. He had wanted to tell Alpha about his conversation with Bouma and instead he had submitted like the most humble Omega. What was wrong with him?
"Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but we don't have time for that today," Alpha replied lightly, his voice ringing with laughter.
Dean turned sharply to look at him again, stiffening slightly. It had been a long time since Castiel had even joked about Dean's ass and... well, about sticking his cock in it, and it had been even longer since he'd tried it, or even hinted that he wanted to. He seemed perfectly content to stick his fingers and tongue in his hole and wanted nothing more. So either his patience was running out or he was in an unusually good mood. If it was the latter, that would be fine, but if it was the former... Dean didn't want to go back to the days when his brain was constantly churning with a worm of fear that brought back the worst memories he had of Alpha. He liked it the way it was. That he could walk around naked in front of Cas and not have to worry about the Alpha suddenly grabbing him, bending him over the nearest flat surface and tearing his ass open with his big knot.
"That wasn't an offer," he said, not even sure how it came out. It probably had something to do with the fact that Castiel had told him more than once that they needed to use words to understand each other.
"I know. It was just a joke," Cas replied, less amused, squinting his eyes and lifting his chin, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in air. Dean somehow hoped that under the sweet scent of an aroused and satisfied Omega, his previous and momentary irritation would fade, but of course he couldn't be so lucky.
"You're upset. Why?" he asked, what else but a curt question, tilting his head to the side and fixing Dean with a strong stare, his eyes dropping to his fly underneath. He took a moment to straighten and button his trousers, then averted his gaze to the passing road.
"Alpha tree called and she didn't have good news. They won't give me Sammy. Not yet."
"I see," came the simple reply.
He turned to Alpha and frowned when he saw his impassive face. Of course, he knew that Castiel had agreed to let Sam live with them, but that didn't mean he really wanted him in his lair. He was determined to tolerate little Alpha. And that was enough for Dean. He couldn't have wanted more, except... he did. He wanted his Alpha to be as willing to fight for Sam as he was, and he hadn't realised how much he wanted that until now.
"Do you see? That's all you have to say?"
"You expected this. I don't know what else to say."
"I don't know... something... like saying you're sorry or... I don't know, letting Sam get kidnapped." He waved his hand. "Sure, I wouldn't want you to do that, but you could at least offer."
"This is your fight, Dean, and your responsibility. You have the resources and the motivation and the proper help from people who... understand the problem better than I do," the Alpha spoke so terribly reasonably... just as one would expect him to. "I won't interfere until you ask me to, or until my... intervention is the only, last resort. The Brotherhood is not here to serve you."
"That's not what I meant. I..." he paused, rubbing his cheek with a sigh, wanting to just sit in silence for a moment and let the pleasant tingling reverberate instead of arguing and thinking rationally. The fact was, though, that he was the one who had brought it up. "The thing is, this is going to take a lot longer than I expected. It could be years, for all I know. The only way to speed it up would be if Sam's guardians decided to relinquish custody, and they're never going to do that. They have a lawyer and everything. They just want to keep Sam. I don't know why... But whatever. I don't want to talk about it anymore," he concluded, turning away from the window.
There was a silence for a while, which, despite the pleasant smell of cherry cake, was not at all comforting. On the contrary, it grated on his nerves.
"We've been invited to a charity auction tonight," Castiel broke the silence.
Half confused, he turned to him. Had he heard right? Ignoring the burning question of what the hell he'd be doing at such an event, did the Alpha really think he was in the mood for socialising tonight? He could add to today's not-so-good day, or rather the whole week, by embarrassing himself, Cas and probably someone else. He wasn't going to risk that.
"Thanks, but I'd rather stay at home. I'm not in the mood for this."
"That wasn't a polite invitation," the Alpha poured his words over him like ice water. "You are my Omega, you have certain duties and this is one of them."
He pursed his lips but lowered his eyes at the same time. He couldn't resist Castiel's power, and he didn't want to, because forcing him to participate in some stupid event was a good reason to be angry with him. And why spitefully wish for something to go wrong today and take his anger out on someone and something in particular when he couldn't take it out on the world at large?
"Fine," he snapped, flashing his fangs. "I'll do whatever you say... Alpha," his subgender pronounced it as a taunt, something he had always been very good at, and turned his gaze back to the window, leaving a demonstrative silence between them.
Chapter Text
Of course, he noticed almost immediately that they weren't going home, but he didn't want to be the one to break the silence. As if the silence was important to Cas. Sometimes he just texted on his phone, sometimes he just stared out of the window, reassured by both his relaxed posture and Dean's nose. Alpha's indifferent calm irritated him on the one hand, but on the other hand it helped him realise how stupidly childish he was being. He was angry that he couldn't have Sam right now. Frustrated and... He ran a hand over his stomach and frowned. Even though everything had been fine between him and Cas lately, he felt an uncomfortably empty place inside of him that seemed to be getting deeper and darker, and the only thing that could lighten it up a bit was Sam.
Oh, shit! That's bullshit, Winchester, he mentally chided himself, and since the Mercedes had just stopped, he turned his attention outwards.
They were in Manhattan. The streets were lined with shops and businesses of all kinds. The closest ones were a jewellery store, two women's clothing stores and a hairdressing salon. Or perhaps a beauty salon? He'd never been in one of those places, but he could see through the window and from a distance that they not only did hair, but probably nails as well. The strange thing was that they were all men.
"Why are we here?" He turned to Cas.
"Something needs to be done here," Alpha replied vaguely, shoving his phone into his pocket as he choked on a cigarette in the ashtray by the door.
Dean took a breath to ask, but by then Golem had opened the door, letting the cold air into the car, and Castiel, looking at Dean for the first time, motioned with his head towards the door, inviting him to get out.
He had no choice but to climb out onto the pavement and follow Alpha, who got out right behind him and walked confidently straight towards... the beauty salon.
The lingering irritation was replaced, at least for the moment, by a certain confusion and, yeah, truth be told, a little unease at where they were apparently headed. He'd never been in a place like this before, or... maybe he had. A vague memory surfaced in his mind as he paused at the window through which he could see inside. Surely his mother was inside. He recognised her golden hair and tangerine scent, as well as many other people and his own hands with colourfully painted nails. Each finger was a different colour, and Mum was laughing, and so was everyone else, but it wasn't mockery, it was amused adult laughter at the little puppy, and Dean felt good about the memory.
Until it was interrupted by the buzzing of a subdued basement.
Cas pressed the button next to the door and one of the workers, who was rearranging some bottles on display next to the door, immediately went to answer it.
Dean scoffed a little, so he was at Castiel's side when the door opened and a mixture of scents of polish, concealer and other strange beauty products wafted out.
The Beta - this was more from her confident but unexpressive manner than her scent - who opened the door for them was a pretty redhead. She was wearing a light blue uniform, either a very short dress or a long t-shirt with tight trousers underneath, with 'Abigail' embroidered in gold across her chest. A professional smile was on her face, and as she let them through the door - Dean realised in time what was expected of him and let Castiel go first - she politely lowered her eyes and a little of her head. It was a learned rather than a natural gesture. As it was with the Betas.
The Alpha walked straight to the reception desk, which stood directly opposite the door. He looked as if he'd been here a hundred times. Not even a hint of a cautious scan of the area. He knew this place so well, it was like it was part of his own territory, which was... well, honestly, a little strange. Cas certainly didn't fit in with the other customers here. Not at first glance. They were all wearing the same expensive clothes, designer and polished shoes and were all holding the latest iPhones. In that respect, Cas fit in perfectly with his tailored jacket, blue tie with a gold pin, gold cufflinks and big watch. Bloody hell! Even the gold fangs match. It's just...
Alphas - and really, they were mostly Alphas, even if the particular smells were lost in the chemical smells and the quality air conditioning with the ozone air purifier - looked like businessmen, financiers, people who worked somewhere on Wall Street, and Cas was just that. That alone seemed to disqualify him from a place like this, and that wasn't even mentioning Dean's point that the Alpha was a guy, and guys... of course they went to places like this. They had to, even Castiel had to, given his perfect manicure, but Dean just felt that a guy like him or Cas didn't belong there.
So he stood off to the side, not sure where to look or what to do, just keeping an eye on his surroundings as Castiel approached the reception desk.
"Good afternoon, Alpha Novak," the woman behind the reception desk greeted him like an old friend, showing a polite little smile that formed lines around her blandly pink lips. She was a little older than most of the workers around her, and wore no uniform, just a light blue blouse, a dark blue jacket over it, and a sheer white scarf tied around her neck. She looked a little like a stewardess.
"Good afternoon," Alpha greeted her in return, leaning his wrist against the edge of the reception desk as the receptionist looked at the computer.
"I see you have a reservation for two," Beta said, glancing briefly at Dean.
Dean frowned. What? Surely Castiel didn't think he was going to... what exactly? Cut his hair or something? That was just ridiculous! He wasn't that kind of Omega. He didn't need anyone to cut his hair; he could do it himself. He wasn't interested in manicures or anything like that. The fact that he occasionally put a little eyeliner on his eyes didn't make him a stereotypical Omega sissy.
"Yes. For me and my Omega."
"Very good, Alpha," the woman smiled and tapped the screen, presumably confirming that they had arrived, and turned back to Cas. "I'm sorry, but it looks like it will be a few more minutes before Domingo can see you. Please have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chairs facing the street. "Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Orange juice? Water?"
"Coffee. Two," Alpha ordered for himself and Dean.
"Sure. Right away." The receptionist smiled and nodded to one of the employees sweeping the floor.
Castiel just grunted in agreement and walked over to the couches, paying no particular attention to Dean. There was no doubt that he expected him to follow, so Dean did so without protest, but as he sat down - so close that their knees were practically touching - he leaned over, almost touching Cas' ear, and growled softly:
"Just so you know, I'm not going to let you make a fool out of me just so you can show off in front of some stupid snobs tonight."
He put all the venom and defiance he could muster into his words and watched with satisfaction as Cas's jaw tightened, listening to him breathe through clenched teeth and savoring the scent of bitter almonds. He just wanted to make Cas's day miserable and he liked that he was succeeding. His disappointment was all the greater when the tension in Castiel's shoulders eased and instead of reacting in any way, he simply slid down the sofa, stretched out his legs, and rested his hand on the cushion behind Dean's back. He was the embodiment of calm, bordering on indifference to everything going on around him.
"You didn't ask who's hosting the charity auction," he said calmly, a sentence that only half referred to Dean's provocation, but it gave him ammunition for an appropriate response.
He leaned back and adopted the same relaxed posture, almost mirroring Alpha's.
"Why should I care?" he asked just as casually.
"You should care because the host is Judge Richard Roman, an administrative judge in New York County."
Dean frowned. He wasn't sure why he should care, except maybe...
"He can get Sam released into my custody?"
"From what I know of Judge Roman, he has a lot of influence. He could help you, but you'd have to make a good impression on him."
"Prove to him that I can take care of Sam?"
"Well..." he let the Alpha's words hang in the air. "Yes, but not in the way you think. Roman is a supporter of... traditional values. To help us achieve your goal, you'd have to convince him that you're a good Omega." He added scare quotes to the word "good.
It wasn't hard to understand what Cas wanted him to do, and he could do it. He knew how to play the shy, obedient Omega. All he had to do was lower his gaze and blink through his eyelashes and the Alphas would forget that he didn't look like the prototype of a gentle, dainty, handsome Omega. So, yes, he would go to this charity auction or whatever it was today and be the most obedient and submissive Omega Judge Roman had ever met. He'd do it if it would help him get custody.
Suddenly he stopped as he remembered something.
Cas had driven him to school, he was in a good mood, he had brought him to this place... Shit! He wanted to take him to Judge Roman tonight because he knew that the preliminary hearing for custody probably wouldn't go well and this was a way to help him.
"Damn..." he breathed hoarsely, choking back a cry, and leaned closer to Cas. "You knew today's hearing wasn't going well. That's why you wanted to take me to the judge, isn't it?" he asked, feeling his own scent fill with Omega's sweetness, replacing the bitterness he somehow perceived from himself.
"Da."
"And I didn't even let you say anything! I'm such an idiot!" he exhaled sharply and, on a sudden impulse, leaned forward to kiss Alpha.
Cas stopped him by grabbing his chin, which Dean appreciated with a discontented growl that died away under a carefully controlled kiss. It wasn't long and rather modest for an Alpha, but it tasted like him and smelled like a happy Alpha.
"Da, moy sladkiy," he purred as he pulled away. "Sometimes you really act like an idiot."
Dean grinned amusedly.
It wasn't that his earlier bad mood was completely gone, but the thought that Castiel had arranged this meeting for him without him even asking was like a ray of warm sunshine dispelling the dark clouds.
"Yeah, maybe, but I still insist on not making a fool of myself," he couldn't help but emphasize. He would play the good Omega, but he wouldn't be some frilly pet.
"As you wish," Cas replied calmly, letting go of his chin and leaning back. "I'm going to get a haircut and a manicure, and I hope they can do something about this," he said, pointing to his face, which was covered in green and yellow bruises.
"Like what, exactly?" He frowned, confused.
"Anything that will hide the bruises," he replied; Dean blinked in surprise, unsure if Alpha really meant makeup or whatever the hell that was. "I can't go out in public like this tonight. It would raise too many prying questions I don't want to answer."
"You want to wear makeup?"
It sounded so ridiculous he couldn't believe he'd actually said it out loud.
Castiel just shrugged casually, and even his scent remained unchanged, calm and now content again.
"If it's necessary..."
Dean bit his lip to hold back the laughter that was already on its way out. Seeing Alpha get a haircut, makeup and nail polish was so funny that it dispelled some of the gloom that had been plaguing him. At least this afternoon might be fun.
"You know... I think I'm going to enjoy this after all," he said with a mischievous smile on his lips.
Castiel's brow furrowed, and as he tilted his head to the side, that sweet confusion appeared in his eyes. But he didn't have time to ask what Dean meant, because one of the employees approached them, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee that smelled delicious.
°°0°°
"Okay. I give up," he said to his reflection, letting go of both ends of the untied bow tie with a frustrated sigh and looking back at the instructions he had on his phone, which was propped up on Alpha's jewelry box. It was a detailed tutorial with animations, and he'd watched several videos beforehand - dozens of them, actually, because, man, you could tie such complicated knots with bow ties and scarves around your neck that they could be used to anchor a ship - and yet he still couldn't do it. He just didn't have the knack. Tie a towline? Tie a bowline knot? Tie a boat to a mooring? Yes, he could do all of those things with ease, but tying a bowline was just beyond him. He could tie both somehow, but it wasn't nice enough for tonight. Or for the suit he wore.
He took the bow tie off his neck, twisted it the way his father had taught him so it wouldn't get too wrinkled, and tucked it into his pocket.
If Cas wanted him to look good tonight, and it was clear that he did, he would have to tie the tie for him. Or he shouldn't have left at all, although he probably had to. Of course, he didn't tell Dean where he was going. He just promised he'd be back by six and then left him alone in the salon with aluminum foil on his head, one hand in some kind of softening tonic and the other in the hands of the manicurist. In this defenseless state, he left Dean at the mercy of a pack of beauty salon employees and an elderly Alpha woman named Mildred, who was there for the "full treatment," whatever that meant, and who felt the need to lecture Dean for two hours about her late Omega husband, children, and grandchildren. And he thought that someone with a Gucci handbag wouldn't like to talk about her family.
Actually... she was quite nice, and he certainly enjoyed her company more than any of the Alpha men. He even exchanged numbers with her out of courtesy and friended her on Facebook, though he didn't think they'd ever speak to each other again.
He closed the tutorial and checked the time.
It was a quarter to six. That meant Cas would be here any minute.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
Apart from the fact that he was missing his bow tie, he looked pretty good. The black jacket and pants fit him perfectly and felt soft to the touch, not like cheap synthetic fabric from a rental store. The shirt wasn't completely white, it had a creamy hue and was literally silky. Like silk. It felt good to wear, especially because it smelled like Alpha, because it was his. He also borrowed his cufflinks, which were a bit difficult to put on, but in the end he managed, and the simple gold balls looked good on him. Add to that his light, freshly cut hair and incredibly soft hands, the likes of which he had never had in his entire life, and he looked like a completely different person.
A lot like... a real Omega.
Somehow, the clothes hid his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and overly narrow hips, and the hairstyle softened his otherwise non-Omega sharp features, which were emphasized by the sparse stubble he got rid of when he got home. He looked his age and almost innocent, which wasn't a bad thing today, he reminded himself.
He was supposed to look like a well-behaved Omega in front of Alpha Roman, with all that entailed, including the fact that he was owned by an Alpha.
He opened the compartment where his collar was, took out a black box and opened it.
This time, the sight of the collar did not give him such a strong feeling that if he put it on, he would be under Castiel's protection, even though his Omega grunted in agreement. Still, the collar remained an object. Something as necessary and unpleasant, yet bearable, as the bow tie and the patent leather shoes he could wear here in the locker room because they were brand new and he was afraid to walk in them for fear of scuffing them.
That was how he saw the collar. That was how he chose to look
at it. A necessary evil that he could bear. For Cas. For Sam. So that their family pack would be complete as soon as possible.
He took the collar out of the box and put it around his neck.
It was easy, he didn't even have to turn the clasp properly, and its weight reminded him that he'd had to wear it for several weeks and that it wasn't all that bad. It was made of soft, supple leather, lined with fine cotton, and so thin that it peeked out discreetly when he adjusted the collar of his shirt.
He ran his fingers over the silver mark on the front, then hooked his index finger behind the collar to make sure it wouldn't pull during the evening. No, it was tight enough.
The cell phone on the jewelry box whistled.
He glanced at it.
Cas❤️: I'll wait in the garage.
Dean: coming
He sent the message, put the phone in his pocket and took a last look at himself. Even though he looked more Omega than he was used to, he was still handsome. A real James Bond. He gave himself one last grin before running out of the bedroom.
A few people joined him in the elevator, but they all got out at the reception. They couldn't afford to park in the small garages here, so they had to walk through the cold weather to the next parking lot. Dean was damn glad he didn't have to go with them, because even the cold air from the garage that hit him when the door opened was unpleasant. Well, months of first class service, not having to walk or bike across town to a motel, had spoiled him. He hoped Sammy felt the same way.
A Mercedes was waiting near the elevator doors, and Golem was already holding the door open for him.
He walked the short distance to the car and slipped into the warmth, the smell of leather upholstery and, of course, cherry pie with baked almonds.
The door clicked behind him before he had time to get settled.
"Hi, Cas," he said to Alpha, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "I need you to tie this for me," he said without further ado, pushing his tie in front of Cas's face. Only then did he actually look at Castiel through the piece of cloth.
Damn! Yeah, he looked really good!
And it wasn't just because Doming's work had miraculously removed all the bruises from his face, or because he had tamed his unruly hair into some kind of casual hairstyle. Maybe it was the dark black jacket and crisp white shirt, or the black bow tie with gold clip. Or maybe it was the way the streetlight fell on his face as they pulled out of the garage. The way it deepened the lines around his lips and eyes and reflected off the silver streaks at his temples, which, thank God, Cas hadn't colored today, even though the hairdresser had insisted. She said it would make him look ten years younger and all that nonsense. Why would he look ten years younger? He was sexy and handsome just the way he was, so Dean had resolutely forbidden any coloring, much to Cas's obvious amusement, which lifted the corners of his mouth in one of his mysterious smiles.
"You didn't have to crumple it up so much," Cas remarked, taking the tie from him and jolting him out of his reverie.
"You shouldn't have let me tie it," he shot back, baring his teeth in a playful growl.
Alpha gave him an amused look out of the corner of his eye as he tried unsuccessfully to smooth out the creases in his tie.
"You're in a better mood, dorogoy."
"Yeah... well... I figured tonight was important, so I couldn't ruin it," he explained the change in his mood. It was hope and determination, and also two shots of vodka he had downed shortly after arriving home. But he didn't mention that.
"That's reasonable," Cas agreed, to Dean's inner, nonsensical and embarrassing delight that his Alpha agreed with him, and reached out to put the bow tie around his neck.
He willingly obliged, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. But Cas was in no hurry, carefully adjusting the silk fabric at the back of his neck and... pausing. The tips of his slender fingers slid down the collar of Dean's cream-colored shirt before his thumb pulled it aside, revealing the lapel.
The air was immediately filled with a whiff of Alpha excitement and possessiveness, which intensified as Castiel caressed the collar and the silver ornament on it with his finger.
Dean inhaled the perfect, musky, spicy scent, licked his lip, and without thinking, moved forward so that his fingers slid over Cas's collar, hooking slightly behind the edge. At that moment, they both froze, looking into each other's eyes with a question. Castiel's was a request for permission and Dean's was confusion as to what he was doing. The thought of being strangled by the collar was still there, as was the fear of it, but it was outweighed by the pleasant memories of the two or three times Castiel had taken him by the collar when he still had to wear it.
Instinctively, he lowered his gaze, allowing Alpha to slip his fingers under the leather.
The collar didn't bite painfully into his neck. It was just pressure, bearable, even pleasant, just as he remembered it, and yet...
"Hey... don't pull, okay?" he murmured anyway.
"Never, unless you want me to," Cas replied unnecessarily verbose, then continued too rationally and consciously: "Why did you put the collar on? You don't like it."
"No, I don't. People aren't animals or anything, but... well, I thought it was appropriate today. You said Judge Roman was a traditionalist, so..." He left the sentence with a small question at the end and looked at Alpha through his lashes.
"Yes, he is," Cas agreed, letting go of the collar, much to Dean's confusion, and stepping aside to reach into the door pocket, from which he pulled out a leather box the size of a deck of cards. "I brought you a little present." He handed the box to Dean.
The symbol on top of the box was familiar to him, but he wasn't sure how he knew it. However, he remembered the moment after he had opened the box and revealed its contents.
It was a collar.
A golden collar.
Damn it!
It sat on the light brown upholstery and looked damn expensive. How could it not be, when it was at least an inch and a half wide band of mirror-polished gold, set with an oval emerald - hey, yeah! He recognized the emerald. It was a beautiful green stone-it must have been a good inch long, and on the back was a light brown leather strap attached to the gold part of the collar, lined with the same green cotton as his own collar, and fastened with a gold clasp.
It wasn't an ugly or overly ornate collar, he'd definitely expected more decorations or stones from Cas, but still... it was something he wasn't sure what to think or what the hell to say. His Omega felt pleased and proud, as he always did when an Alpha gave him something, because it meant that the interest of such a strong and capable Alpha was still unbroken. Dean, on the other hand, felt rather embarrassed.
"It is an emerald I bought years ago in Ekaterinburg. It comes from the Malyshevsky deposit in Sverdlovsk, in the Urals. One of the oldest active mines in Russia," Castiel explained enthusiastically, Dean not understanding half of what he was saying, but trying to look interested and understanding. "I've had it for years. It's the same color as your eyes, moy sladkiy," he purred. "I've wanted to give it to you since the first time I saw you, but... I didn't know how. It seemed too little..." He waved his hand vaguely. "It's too big to just give you, and necklaces and rings and bracelets that would go with such a big stone don't suit you. But a collar? I think it's just right. What do you think? Do you like it?" He tilted his head questioningly, exhaling a scent of curiosity and deep interest that was directed directly and solely at Dean. He was waiting for an answer and enthusiasm, and damn it, Dean didn't want to disappoint him, even if he still didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, sure. It's... um... it's a nice collar. Gold and everything. And the stone is really shiny and green..." He fell silent, hearing himself babbling nonsense; he would probably never be good at accepting gifts.
"Does it bother you that it's a collar?"
"What?" He looked up from the stone, which glistened like dew on grass, and saw Alpha's seemingly calm face, under which he could see disappointment. "No! It doesn't bother me that it's a collar. It would bother me if it was a necklace or something. That would be weird. It's just... I'll never be good at this... at accepting gifts... especially expensive ones," he finally added, unable to help himself. The collar must have cost several thousand.
"Nonsense!" Cas said resolutely, and all the disappointment was gone, replaced by the corners of his lips curving into a smile, his eyes softening, and when he grabbed Dean's chin and leaned in, he smelled sweet, like a freshly baked pie. "You deserve the best, Dean. You're beautiful," He breathed into Dean's face, causing him to lower his eyes and feel warmth on his ears for the first time in a long time. "My beautiful, perfect Mate. Even the most expensive and ostentatious jewelry is trinket compared to you."
"'Jeez, Cas!" he interrupted, his voice breaking into that obnoxious falsetto he had when he was thirteen. "If you want to embarrass me into not getting out of the car, you're on your way."
"Why are you so resistant to compliments?"
"Because it's embarrassing," he dismissed him, tilting his head back to free himself from his grip. Then he picked up the box. "Will you turn it on for me?" he asked, but then paused. "I mean, I assume you wanted me to have it tonight."
"Nothing would make me happier right now," Cas said as seriously as he could.
Dean said nothing, left the box on his lap, and reached behind him to undo the two collars he was wearing. Alpha didn't hesitate, of course, and before Dean could remove his current collar, he was holding the golden hoop in his hands, eagerness glittering in the blue depths of his eyes.
He turned halfway to allow Cas to fasten the collar and also to hide his smile. He liked the Alpha's eagerness, though there had been times when he would have considered a similar glow in an Alpha's eyes dangerous. And he would hate the thought of wearing a collar. Although... that hadn't really changed. He still wasn't a big fan of collars and didn't want to wear one every day, but when the golden ring touched his neck, he didn't feel any resistance or panic. The metal was lukewarm and quickly absorbed his body heat, so by the time Alpha had fastened the clasp, all he felt was the weight and a slight pressure that merely reminded him that he had something around his neck. It didn't press or weigh him down.
He ran his fingertips along the smooth surface down to the stone, examining every single cut. It was fascinating, actually. He'd never touched anything like it before, for no, it couldn't be compared to the few small diamonds from Castiel's safe. And he could never imagine wearing something like that around his neck... How much could it have cost? Four, five thousand?
Damn. He'd have to be very careful today not to lose the collar within hours of getting it. Thieves were everywhere.
Warm lips pressed against his neck.
He dropped his head to his chest and a satisfied growl escaped his throat, followed by a slightly deeper purr from Cas, and Alpha's hand slid around his waist and disappeared under his jacket.
"Moy!" Alpha growled possessively into his ear.
"Yes, Alpha. Yours," he agreed, turning his head and offering his lips for a kiss, his hand running through Cas's hair.
A golden fang flashed as Alpha smiled.
Then their lips met.
Chapter Text
Dean frowned slightly.
As they drove down the street, he caught sight of an old corner building that he recognized from a movie. More importantly, he saw the open glass doors leading to it. They were surrounded by a short red carpet and about ten photographers.
Just as they were passing by for the second time in five minutes, a car pulled up to the sidewalk, and a couple got out: a man and a woman. Judging by his posture, the man was definitely an Alpha, and the woman could have been a Beta or perhaps an Omega. The man wore a tuxedo, and the woman wore a long blue dress that reached her ankles. He didn't see much else, partly because the departing car blocked his view and partly because the reporters had gathered closer to the entrance. Nevertheless, when he turned his head and looked out the rear window, he saw the Alpha shaking hands with a man in his thirties with dark hair. That was all.
He slid back into his seat.
"I'm afraid to ask, but are we going where the reporters are?" he asked with terrible suspicions that he had guessed their destination correctly.
"Da. That's exactly where we're going."
"Really? Like, really? We're going to parade in front of the paparazzi?"
He wasn't sure if he was afraid of being exposed because of who Castiel was or if he just didn't want to be in the news. Either way, he didn't like it. He nervously ran his finger over his gold collar. If he messed up today - and he wouldn't be surprised if he did - it would be photographed. Just great.
"They're not paparazzi. They're from more reputable publications."
"That doesn't matter. I don't like the idea of being in the news, " he sighed.
Alpha's warm hand grabbed his chin and turned his face toward him. Dean could immediately see that his eyes were completely calm, and he had a small, warm smile on his lips.
"There's no reason to worry. They'll hardly take any notice of us. I'm not exactly at the top of New York society."
He took his fingers from his chin, lifted his hand to his lips, and quickly kissed the back of his fingers. "They'll notice you even less. All you have to do is smile and not trip over the carpet."
"Yeah. Thanks. That really calms me down." He grimaced sourly but was also amused by Cas's remark. Above all, he liked the spark of mischief floating in Alpha's eyes like a star reflecting on the blue sea.
"You're perfect, Dean. And very handsome. You'll make a good impression," Alpha added. This time, his words were genuinely encouraging, which was needed because their car had just pulled up to the curb.
The door opened immediately, revealing a stone-faced man dressed in a black jacket who could have been a butler in a movie. Maybe he was a butler. Cas slipped out of the car with his usual elegance, not creasing his pants at all. Dean, who had shifted in his seat to get out, felt big and clumsy compared to Cas, but not so much that he needed the hand Cas offered him.
He wanted to ignore it, but it was positioned so awkwardly that he couldn't. There was nothing left to do but accept the unsolicited help, which wasn't really help at all.
Even though Cas was holding him, he wasn't providing any support. Dean was able to get out easily. It must have just been a gesture.
Some kind of social nonsense, like holding his chair or the door for him.
Several cameras flashed at him from the right and left.
He didn't turn directly to the reporters because that just wasn't done. Having seen enough Oscar and Grammy award ceremonies, he knew better. He bowed his head a little to make himself smaller and more Omega and reluctantly accepted the arm Castiel offered him.
He dug his fingers into Alpha's jacket - perhaps a little more forcefully than was polite - and bravely stepped into the short aisle of shame lined with red carpet. Here and there, they were hit by the occasional camera flash, but it wasn't overwhelming. None of the reporters tried to ask questions, get in their way, or do anything else foolish. It was exactly as Alpha had told him: they were of little interest.
They made their way to the entrance near Alpha without much trouble. Alpha was greeting guests. Dean quickly guessed that Alpha was Judge Roman.
He allowed himself a quick, sidelong glance in his direction and took a deep breath to size him up.
Alpha was about the same height as Cas and dressed just as well.
He had a friendly smile on his face that revealed a row of perfectly white teeth, including two unnaturally straight fangs that made it look more like a predatory grin. Dean heard a growl in his head, and his Omega bowed her head partially and humbly, stretching her neck.
Yet the Alpha judge did not exude ferocity or even typical Alpha dominance. His scent, reminiscent of eggplant with a hint of tulips, was muted; however, it lacked that vague undertone of fading blockers. It was more...chemical, something Dean couldn't quite identify. It smelled as fake as Roman's smile looked.
"Alpha Novak. What a surprise that you finally accepted my invitation," Roman greeted them too cordially, offering Cas his hand as if they were old friends. He kept his shoulders relaxed, and except for a slight lift of his head, he didn't even try to strike a pose.
Cas, of course, couldn't resist puffing out his chest and straightening his shoulders. He probably did so without realizing it. And accepted the offered hand.
"Judge Alpha Roman... Work obligations prevented me from coming before," he said, greeting Roman just as politely and adding a brief explanation.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully, you won't be called away prematurely, and we'll have a chance to talk tonight."
"I hope so too."
"Judge Alpha Roman, may I have one photo with your guests?" asked one of the reporters.
Alpha Roman struck a pose and smiled for the camera, while Castiel simply turned toward the waiting photographers, not even attempting to smile. In fact, Dean hadn't seen a single photo of Castiel where he appeared to be smiling.
Dean intended to stay out of the way because he didn't think he belonged in a magazine photo. However, Alpha's arm wrapped around his waist made it impossible for him to stay in the background. Cas even pushed him forward as if he wanted the photographers to get the best shot possible.
Dean gritted his teeth, conjured a shy yet hopefully charming smile, and exposed himself to a brief flurry of flashes that disappeared as quickly as they had begun. Through the slight glare, he was able to overlook the group of photographers and journalists who seemed to have lost interest in them.
"Please, be my guests," said Alpha Roman, letting go of Castiel's hand and gesturing inside.
The door was wide enough for them to pass through together without Cas having to let go, which he had no intention of doing anytime soon. He clenched Dean's hips possessively, and the tension in his body radiated typical Alpha alertness. It could have been justified, or it could not have been. Cas had obviously never been there before. Although it was a public place, judging by the smells, there was definitely no family or even a single Alpha living there. At that moment, however, it was technically Roman's territory, and all the Alphas who entered behaved accordingly. It was simply an unwritten rule.
Dean decided to assess the risks himself because Alphas are irritable when provoked and Cas could be unnecessarily protective.
As they walked in the direction the golden ropes were guiding them, he curiously and cautiously looked at the green marble, the gold door fittings, the gold lettering above the room entrances, and how the house's old interior blended with modern features, such as the neon "Exit" sign above the door they were passing. Nothing looked dangerous or suspicious. Photographs adorned the walls. The people they passed bowed their heads politely. The mixture of smells around them, apart from the usual pheromones - mainly Alpha and Omega - was filled with expensive perfumes, the scent of woolen suits, and, from a distance, a hint of food.
Hmm, he could go for something to eat. Since lunch, he hadn't had time or opportunity to eat more than a couple of doughnuts. Now, he was ready for a proper dinner. Hopefully, they wouldn't serve tiny portions like in the movies.
His thoughts about food were interrupted when they joined a queue.
Yes, they were standing behind the couple he had seen enter earlier. They were standing above a short, descending staircase.
He carefully leaned around an elderly Omega woman wearing a dark blue velvet dress with black chiffon sleeves that reached her wrists. He looked to see what they were waiting for.
Below the stairs, he could see part of the dance floor he was heading toward, as well as a blonde woman in a white dress with gold patterns. She was shaking hands with a stocky man who wasn't very tall. He recognized the man as an Alpha because of his posture. Standing next to the Alpha was a tall, slim, agile, blonde Omega in a white suit.
The fat Alpha and his handsome companion, who was probably paid in one way or another, stepped into the hall. At the same moment, the pair in front of Dean and Castiel began to descend the stairs.
He snorted, knowing what was going on here didn't take half a brain.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered to Alpha, partly as a distraction because he could still feel him tense up.
Cas turned to him, and their eyes met.
Alpha quickly glanced at the pair below the stairs.
"Yeah. Absurd," he agreed quietly. He relaxed a little as he spoke, shifting some of his weight onto Dean, who gladly accepted it.
The pair in front of them were surprisingly quick. Maybe they didn't want to delay, which Dean appreciated. As they stepped down the stairs together, Cas offered his arm again. It was ridiculous, but Dean accepted because it was part of their act. He prepared an appropriately shy smile.
"Welcome, Alpha Novak. I'm so glad you're here."
A mild, humble, and almost tender-sounding blonde Omega woman in a white dress greeted them. At the same time, she lowered her unnaturally blue eyes and tilted her head in a polite display of her throat. Apart from a collar of several thin strips of gold with small diamonds, her throat was adorned with a clearly visible Alpha bite.
She displayed it proudly, and Dean wondered if he would ever be able to do the same. He couldn't imagine it; just looking at the omega's marked throat made him want to touch his own collar and feel uncomfortable.
"And I'm glad to finally meet you in person, Omega Romanová."
Cas offered her his hand, and they shook briefly before he motioned to Dean. "This is my Mate, Omega Winchester."
The Omega woman looked him in the eyes without embarrassment, and her small, slightly curved nose flared as she inhaled the scent of the most likely Mating Bond..
Dean could smell it quite well.
Romanova's scent seemed to be absorbed into her body. Plus, there was the unmistakable scent of the bond, which was impossible to describe. Even without a bite, Dean knew she was Mated. Because he knew the scent of her Alpha, he also knew to whom she was Mated. If he didn't know her Alpha, a whiff would have been enough to know that this Omega belonged to him.
"I'm Dean. I'm very pleased to meet you, Omega Romanova," he said, interrupting her search. He put on a seductive, broad smile and offered her his hand.
"Alana." The woman squeezed his hand with a gentle grip that Bobby would have called a dead fish. "There have been rumors for some time that a charming young Omega man has been seen in the company of Alpha Novak. Honestly..." She leaned forward and lowered her voice slightly as if she wanted to speak confidentially, yet she maintained a polite distance. "Richard and I couldn't agree on whether you existed. He thought it was just rumors, but I knew you were real. I believe in love. Even though I've never met Alpha Novak in person, I wanted him to find someone special," she added, touching the scar left by the bite for some reason. "I'm so glad you came. I'm surprised he didn't bring you to the party sooner."
"I wanted to have Dean to myself for a while," Castiel interjected politely, but his voice was emotionless. "I'll be happy to lend him to you later tonight if you'll lend me your husband."
The Omega laughed gently and briefly until it was clear she was acting. Finally, she let go of Dean's hand, which she had held in her fish-like grip the whole time.
"All right, Alpha Novak. It's a deal. Have fun until then." From her tone and the way she folded her hands, Dean, unfamiliar with etiquette, knew she had ended the polite greeting and was discreetly sending them into the hall.
Alpha placed his hand lightly on Dean's back, and they entered together.
He looked around the hall. It wasn't very big. It would easily fit into their living room, kitchen, and the part he didn't know what to call, which led to Castiel's study. Unlike Alpha's apartment, which had carpets, this one had wooden parquet floors. To the left, under the windows and between two columns, there was a bar. Directly across from the entrance, there was a podium with a lectern. Tables set for dinner were scattered throughout the space. Vague instrumental music played in the background, merely accompanying the buzz of conversation.
The air was filled with the scents of Alpha and Omega, as well as flowers, expensive clothing, and food. He could definitely smell seafood, roast beef, chocolate cake, and nuts. God, yes! His stomach growled at the smell, and his eyes automatically sought out the tables opposite the bar, groaning with food.
He licked his lips and turned his puppy eyes to Alpha.
"Where to now?" he asked, hoping the answer would be, 'Straight to the food tables.' Not that he would have let himself be discouraged if Cas hadn't suggested it. However, because he had to be a 'good omega', he would have had no choice but to sneak off and eat on his own.
"We should see what's on offer tonight," Cas remarked as he took two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and handed one to Dean. "But let's stop for something to eat on the way."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Dean replied, taking a sip for form's sake. Yeah, the wine still tasted awful.
"And something to drink, too..." he said, commenting on his wine. He just didn't like this sour liquid.
Alpha made an amused sound and put his hand back on Dean's back, this time high enough to almost touch the back of his neck.
°°0°°
Dean tilted his head to one side while chewing, trying to figure out which side of the statue was the moon over the ocean. No matter how he looked at it, he still saw a Mercedes hood, a chassis, and a few other parts from various old car models, as well as some LED lights.
He was alerted to the arrival of the strange Alpha by the smell of marjoram in the dry air just before rain, which immediately reminded him of a pizza stand. He hoped that if he glanced at Alpha, who was approaching him, out of the corner of his eye, Alpha would look like Mario. Or maybe like an Italian dandy from a magazine: tall, muscular, with dark hair and eyes. All the things girls admire.
But in reality, the man standing next to him - still at a polite distance, but close enough to make it clear he was trying to make contact - was an old man. He was thin with wrinkled cheeks, bony wrists, and graying dark hair. Above his aquiline nose, thick, graying eyebrows arched, and he wore unnecessarily large, round glasses. He looked like a crazy math professor who had changed from a white coat into a tuxedo.
"Impressive, isn't it?" He made contact and looked at Dean like a typical Alpha. But something was missing. Some of the aggression and sharpness that shone in Cas's eyes was missing. Above all, he lacked self-confidence.
"Pretty much, but I'm used to it," he replied casually. He kept a smile on his face and, most importantly, kept his amused Omega growling under control. "My uncle has a lot of statues like that."
"Really?" Alpha asked, genuinely surprised.
"Sure," Dean nodded seriously. Then he let an amused smile slip onto his face, leaned toward Alpha, and sniffed deeply like a dog. "He owns a junkyard," Dean added in a low voice as if it were a secret. He pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh at the confused look on Alpha's face. Before Alpha could recover and start growling, as Alphas tend to do when offended, Dean simply got up and walked away quickly.
Cas promised to get him some beer because the waiters seemed to only be serving wine. Beer must have been available at the bar. If there was any. So the Alpha headed there. But it was taking longer than Dean liked. Besides, he had run out of roast beef, so he decided to find Castiel.
He took the entrance next to the stage, which gave him an immediate great view of the bar. Finding his Alpha was only a matter of seconds.
He frowned.
Cas was talking to someone at the bar. From a distance, it looked like the other man - surely also an Alpha - was very angry and was only holding back because of all the people around. Of course, Dean's Alpha was calm. He held a glass of beer and looked at the angry man as if he were nothing more than an uninteresting insect.
Dean knew Castiel could handle any danger, but his Omega growled defensively, prompting Dean to cross the room quickly. He knew he couldn't run around like he was in a school hallway, but the urge to be close to his Alpha drove him forward.
"...your fault too. You took me there!" he heard the strange Alpha say. English was definitely not his native language. When he spoke, his voice resonated with an accent Dean didn't recognize. It wasn't Russian, Spanish, or French.
"I warned you not to mess with the owner. If you owed him..." Castiel replied to the man.
"I always pay my debts!" the other Alpha snapped. "I want to know who owns that place!"
"I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. It would be too dangerous for both of us," Cas said. It sounded ridiculous coming from him, but Dean was the only one who noticed. "Now, excuse me, but my Omega is over there. Have a nice evening," he said to the man and left him behind as he headed toward Dean, who had sensibly remained two steps away.
“Who was that?” Dean asked, glancing over Alpha’s shoulder at the other Alpha standing at the bar, clutching a glass and staring at them with dark brown eyes.
"The German ambassador stationed at the local embassy," Cas replied, handing Dean a beer.
“What did he want?” He looked angry," he said, letting the question trail off. Even though Alpha took him by the shoulders and guided him back the way they came, he looked back at Alpha, who was downing a double whiskey at the bar and ordering another with a wave to the bartender.
"He had debts, and he didn't treat other people's property well. Now, he doesn't like the consequences of his behavior," Alpha replied briefly. There was a cold edge to his voice that told Dean the ambassador owed the Brotherhood. The property he hadn't treated well must have belonged to the Brotherhood or Castiel himself.
"I see."
"I need something from you, dorogoy..." Alpha moved his hand to the back of Dean's neck and looked thoughtfully across the room.
Dean followed his gaze to Alpha Roman and his Omega wife, who were engaged in a lively conversation with someone at the buffet table.
"I want to talk to Roman alone, but his wife is always with him. Could you get her away?"
He took a big gulp of beer and focused on Roman's wife.
At first glance, she didn't seem particularly clingy. She talked to people and served herself food and drinks. She didn't seem to be under the control of her Alpha, which he had seen many times before. There were Omegas who literally couldn't go to the bathroom until their Alpha told them to, and who would even wet themselves.
But she was under Roman's control.
She proudly displayed Roman's collar and bite mark, walked half a step behind him, and did all the little things, such as serving him food and holding his plate and glass.
In fact, the behavior of Alpha Roman and his Omega woman was the exact opposite of how Cas treated him. It was Alpha who opened doors for him, brought him drinks, held his chair. Never the other way around.
"I can't get her away from him, but I can keep her out of the way until she leaves on her own," he told Cas after carefully considering his options. He ruled out tricks like spilling a drink on her dress, pretending that someone else needed the other Omega, and flirting. He was pretty sure his Alpha wouldn't want him to embarrass him like that, regardless of the outcome. She was mated, and she was also quite a bit older. He definitely wouldn't have any luck.
"I told you, she never leaves him," Castiel objected, his voice rumbling with irritation.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"She'll leave him eventually...unless she has a bladder the size of a five-gallon jug." He grinned, amused by his own joke.
Roman's wife was sipping her wine, but Dean could see her alternating it with soda, and those jelly cakes were full of water, too. Sooner or later, she'd have to go to the bathroom.
Cas narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Trust me, Alpha. It won't be the first time I've done something like this. Once she peels herself off her alpha, I won't let her go back to him."
"All right. I'll leave it to you," Cas replied. His approval and obvious trust made Dean's Omega purr with pleasure. The feeling was further enhanced when the Alpha rubbed the back of his neck. Dean found it hard not to bow his head and give in to the feeling.
Fortunately, the Alpha moved his hand around Dean's shoulder. At the same time, he pulled Dean closer and rubbed his nose against his hair. A short, quiet purr escaped Dean's throat.
"Before we get a chance to get Roman out of her, we can finish looking at the gallery.
"Are you serious?" Dean turned to him skeptically. He didn't believe Cas had come for any reason other than to talk to the Alpha about Sam's custody. Maybe to maintain some social contacts. Certainly not because of the piles of junk and scribbles labeled as works of art.
"Sure," Cas said, giving him a sincerely confused look. "I'm interested. Maybe I'll even buy something." Sometimes investing in young artists pays off, and besides, the proceeds go to a good cause," he added, letting his hand slip off Dean's shoulder and heading back to the back room.
Dean stared at his back in disbelief for a moment before shaking his head and quickly catching up with Cas.
Chapter Text
When it came to food, his Omega was anything but modest. As soon as Dean assured him that all the food on the table was free, a spark of enthusiasm lit up his green eyes, and he threw himself into eating as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. He piled his plate high until it looked like it was about to fall over. Still, Dean managed to add another pickled cucumber on top and keep the plate balanced.
Castiel's Alpha grumbled indecisively.
On the one hand, there was probably no sight more beautiful than his Omega eating. There was something deeply satisfying about it. At the same time, it disturbed and annoyed his Alpha. Not the eating itself, but the fact that Dean had thrown himself at food given to him by another Alpha—someone like Dick Roman—as if Castiel didn't feed him enough.
"Look at his chin," a voice said from Castiel's side.
Castiel turned his head slightly and looked at the three women standing nearby. They were all wearing long dresses with luxurious collars and holding wine glasses. All three were looking in Dean's direction.
He inhaled their scent.
Despite the mint-flavored smell blocker, he could catch only a hint of it. But the direction the women were facing definitely carried the viscous, sweet scent of an omega.
"And ůook at the muscles on his arms! He can barely fit into his jacket. He looks like some kind of Beta boxer," the second woman agreed.
"He's not an Omega," the third Omega declared.
"Of course he is. Didn't you smell him?" the second woman disagreed.
"I'm sure he's one of them. You know, one of those trans Omegas," said the third Omega, leaning toward her friends and lowering her voice.
"I heard that Teresa's daughter is like that, too. It must be such a disappointment for Alpha Jose.
Imagine having an Alpha daughter. That alone would cause a stir. And now, with Anna wanting to be an Omega... I'm sure that's why they're not here today."
"I think so, too," the first agreed. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but at that moment, she caught Castiel's gaze.
She held his gaze for just a few seconds before quickly looking down and bowing her head slightly.
The other three quickly looked at Castiel before following suit, lowering their gaze and indicating their subordination with their entire bodies. Still, Castiel had to clench his lips to suppress the urge to show them his fangs and teach them their place, reminding them not to speak to his omega.
"I took some for you, too. Would you like some?" the omega interrupted, pushing a plate of canapés and roast beef under his nose.
"I'm not hungry," he said, turning to the Omegas. They took advantage of his momentary inattention and disappeared into the crowd.
"Who are we watching?" Dean asked quietly, not only because he lowered his voice but also because he was chewing a large bite.
"No one," he said, turning back to Dean. The three Omegas were gone, and there was no reason to worry about them anymore—if there ever was. "I'll get you a beer. Go check out the exhibition in the meantime."
Dean glanced briefly toward the back door of the hall, where an arrow indicated where the artwork to be auctioned today was located.
When he turned back, he didn't look particularly enthusiastic. He bowed his head in humility that Castiel knew was feigned and replied obediently.
"Yes, Alpha. Is there anything else I can do?" he asked humbly. However, the provocatively cheerful gleam in his green eyes, looking at Castiel through the veil of his long brown eyelashes, clearly said he would ignore any further orders on principle. And to cause a stir.
The corner of Castiel's lips lifted just enough to reveal a glimpse of a golden fang. He gently but firmly grabbed Dean by the elbow.
"Just do that, and be a good omega. But don't overdo it. It could easily become unbelievable, and neither of us wants Roman to suspect anything."
"You're good at scaring people. I'm good at calming them down, and sometimes tricking them. Let's do what we do best," he replied, freeing his hand from Dean's grip and walking away.
Castiel watched him leave until he disappeared through the door. Then, he downed his and Dean's glasses of wine and headed for the bar.
He took a glass of Peroni for Omega—which was the only beer they served there—and ordered a gin and tonic for himself. Peroni wasn't a bad beer; at least it was from Europe, even if it was from a country that knew nothing about beer. But it had the aftertaste of all the rich people who came here to spread gossip, like the last gossiping old woman on the balcony, while simultaneously appeasing their consciences by buying something and believing that the money would go to a good cause.
It was hypocritical because Castiel knew half of those people. They either bought expensive prostitutes, played in illegal gambling dens, or snorted coke.
He also knew where the profits from Roman's events actually went. He did have to donate some to charity, but most of the profits from his Omega Mate and his wife's foundation went into the pockets of the Arians. They used it to purchase goods and expand into New York.
That's what he came to talk to Roman about.
He had to eliminate Alastair earlier than planned, creating a big hole in the market and a power vacuum. Too many players were pushing forward. Castiel had to admit that, without the Koreans' help, the Brotherhood, the Italians, and the Shadows might not be able to hold back the flood of competitors. His options were the Arians or the Ortega family
They did not have such resources or power themselves, but they maintained good business relations with several major Mexican players.
This was both their advantage and their disadvantage. Mexican cartels were notorious for their gratuitous cruelty, even within Castiel's social circles.
The violence they were capable of unleashing—and willing to unleash—was bloody, terrifying, and full of death. Most of it was completely unnecessary. Killing for fun or to show off your power was one thing. But sending someone to shoot up a bar just because they started serving beer you weren't getting a cut of? That was a waste of resources. In such a case, the owner only needed to have a few fingers broken and all his supplies taken away as a warning not to do business with anyone else.
That's why he had more hope for an agreement with the Arians than with the Ortegos.
He looked for Roman in the crowd again and frowned slightly.
He had been watching Roman out of the corner of his eye since Roman entered the hall and joined his mate. It had been fifteen or twenty minutes, and the two hadn't moved an inch away from each other the entire time. Of course, as the host, Roman had to have his wife by his side, but the way the Omega was glued to him...
Castiel grimaced into his glass. The only thing missing was for her to start wiping Roman's mouth because she was already doing everything else. This wasn't the care of a faithful omega; it was maternal care. Castiel was once again grateful that his omega wasn't like that and never would be. He wanted a real mate, not a mother and a servant rolled into one.
"Novak," came a muffled growl from his right, alcohol-laden.
He didn't even have to turn around; the accent and the mint-tinged smell of drying concrete and papaya were enough to identify the German. He was their long-time and mostly reliable customer who had been having a little trouble with his behavior and paying his debts lately.
As Castiel had expected, his men's friendly visit had taught the German a lesson. It didn't affect his and the German's... let's call it a "friendly" relationship.
The second Alpha had no idea that Castiel owned the gambling dens where he spent tens of thousands of dollars or that Castiel owned the prostitutes he slept with at least once a week. To Kessler, Castiel was just an acquaintance, someone he had met two years ago at the Russian embassy.
"Mr. Ambassador," he said politely. "Nice to see you here. Your wife isn't with you?" he asked, glancing meaningfully at the empty seat beside Kessler where his wife and companion usually sat.
"She... isn't feeling well," the ambassador replied evasively. He downed the rest of his drink and motioned to the waiter for another. Then he turned to Castiel. "You don't go to the Three Monkeys anymore."
"I have other interests now," Castiel replied, which was actually true.
Dean took up all his free time, either spending it with his company or protecting or helping Dean. That didn't leave him much time for anything else.
"You used to be there all the time. I went there because of you."
He tilted his head to one side in slight confusion. Was it a figure of speech, or was there something more to it? Kessler had never shown any interest.
"I thought you wanted to play. That's why you went there."
"Yes, I wanted to play, but..." At that moment, the waiter placed a whiskey in front of Kessler, who took advantage of the pause to take a drink. "I didn't know what kind of place it was. I didn't know what kind of people owned it. What they would do to my Mate. Things happened that are your fault, too! You took me there!"
Oh, so that's what this was about. He had almost forgotten the punishment Kessler received for damaging their goods.
"But I warned you not to mess with the owner. If you owed him money..."
"I always pay my debts!" the second Alpha snapped. "I want to know who owns that place!"
"I don't know. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. It would be too dangerous for both of us," he said, easily denying any involvement with the Monkeys.
As he spoke, he spotted a familiar sandy mop of hair emerging from the crowd about two meters away. He tilted his head toward Dean, who was standing nearby and watching the situation warily. "Now, excuse me, but my Omega is over there. Have a nice evening," he said, ending the conversation abruptly as he took a drink for Dean from the bar.
The last thing he wanted was to waste time with Dean. He needed to get Roman's companion out of the way. Looking at Dean, he decided he could put him in charge of that task. As an Omega, Dean might understand other Omegas better and be able to get rid of her effectively.
°°0°°
That damn woman had a bladder like a bear in hibernation. It took hours, during which most people took their seats—including the judge and his mate—and it almost looked like the auction was about to start, before she finally went to the bathroom. Fortunately, there was still half an hour to go before the auction began. Plenty of time.
Well, maybe, he thought, glancing at Cas. His calm expression hid the slight tension around his lips and, more importantly, masked how tightly he was clenching his jaw. He was clearly dissatisfied. He was more annoyed and bored than angry. Dean wasn't surprised. They walked through the exhibition of works for sale, none of which appealed to him or Alpha. Then, they withdrew to wait for Roman's wife to finally go to the bathroom.
And that was it.
If Alpha knew anyone else here besides the drunk guy at the bar, he didn't need to see them, and they probably didn't want to see him. Cas didn't seem to mind. Dean didn't know anyone here. It was terribly snobbish, but the omega in him just liked company. That didn't mean he would leave his alpha to go have fun, though. He could at least get them more food. At least he could get them more food.
“Do you want anything else? I'd like one of those sweet cupcakes," he told Cas, briefly losing sight of Roman.
"She's leaving," Cas interrupted.
"What?"
Alpha just raised his eyebrows meaningfully and nodded across the room.
Dean quickly turned around.
Oh, shit! Roman's omega got up from the table, nodded as if bowing to her alpha, and began to move quickly but discreetly toward the restrooms.
"All right, here goes..." Dean let the words trail off. He shoved his half-empty glass of fancy beer, which tasted like nothing, into Alpha's hand and set off after her.
He kept his distance, and when he followed her out into the practically empty hallway, he took advantage of the stand with the program and brochures for the exhibition. He stood in front of it, pretending to read one of the brochures. It was a bit obvious since there were plenty inside the hall, and everyone must have already had one, but Roman's Omega Companion didn't even glance at him, so it didn't matter. It was just an unnecessary safety precaution.
As she started to open the door to the women's restroom, he reached for his cell phone. He gave her five minutes, during which he gradually moved closer to the door, still clutching the brochure, and keeping an eye on the door as it opened and closed. Two more women came out before Roman's wife finally emerged.
He quickly lowered his gaze to the paper in his hand, seemingly lost in thought, and stepped toward her.
In reality, he had carefully planned every step, including the last one when he lightly brushed her elbow.
"Oh my God! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, feigning alarm as he grabbed the Omega woman by the elbow, as if to catch her before she fell. This was completely unnecessary, as she wasn't falling. However, by grabbing her, he had captured her attention and blocked her path, leaving her with little room to maneuver.
"It's okay," she assured him with a polite smile. Although she didn't show it, Dean was pretty sure she wanted to get away from him. But he didn't let her. Taking advantage of his height and strength, he completely controlled the situation.
"I'm glad," he said with a feigned sigh, lowering his hand to give her a sense of freedom. "I'm also very glad I ran into you, ma'am." He conjured his sweetest, most innocent smile, careful not to let any hint of flirtation show. The other Omega was mated, so sweet talk wouldn't work on her. Pretending to be a lost puppy might, though.
"I think you could help me a little. You see... I..." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck and picked up a brochure helplessly. "My Alpha told me to choose a statue or painting for our apartment. Something that fits in. He said he'd bid on it for me. But I'm hopeless at this." He sighed and threw his hands up. "Art doesn't really speak to me. I'm more into cars and motorcycles. Could you give me some advice?" He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "It would only take a few minutes!"
"Of course. I'd be happy to help you." The other omega smiled warmly.
She only agreed out of politeness, though, so their time together would be limited. Dean was determined to stretch it out as long as possible, if he could find enough common ground, that is. His first idea was to ask for advice on art, mainly because he wasn't actually lying. If they wanted to bid on something, he would need advice to choose it. As we all know, the best bluff is the one that's actually true.
All he had to do was be honest.
"I'm not really sure what my alpha would like," he said, broaching the subject as they walked toward the hallway where the sculptures and paintings were displayed. He has a landscape painting in his study. Fields and houses. He says it's Russian realism," he added, proud of himself for remembering the word 'realism.'
"Realism isn't popular anymore. Especially not among the young artists we've selected for today's auction," Roman's wife replied, stopping in front of a painting Dean thought was just a chessboard in neon pink and green, painted in thick, uneven layers. If he painted a wall like that, Bobby would slap him.
"Maybe it would be best to match the artwork to the interior. So that it fits in well. What's your lair like?"
"Um...big?" he replied, which elicited a soft, amused laugh from his wife's pink-painted lips.
"It certainly is, but I meant, is it decorated in dark or light colors? Is your furniture modern, clean-lined, or massive and antique?"
"A little of both, I guess," he said after a moment's thought. "Alpha likes antique furniture, so he has that in his study and around the TV. The kitchen, however, is ultra-modern. It's all open space and stuff. It's really big. I mean, open. Spacious," he said vaguely, gesturing around him as if trying to encompass the enormous space of their apartment, which could probably fit his entire house.
"Then you don't have to worry about large, striking pieces."
He followed Roman's wife a little further to a life-size statue of a couple embracing. The statue was made of transparent plastic, and various objects seemed to be floating inside it. A plastic heart, a bicycle chain, some shiny pieces of paper, and a banana peel. Well, at least it really looked like people and not just a jumble of colors or pieces of welded metal.
"This beautiful piece looks best in a well-lit place. Sunlight will highlight every detail and the smooth lines of the bodies..." Omega began to describe with sincere enthusiasm, which Dean did not share at all. However, he maintained a polite smile, hoping to show a spark of interest in his eyes. He nodded and hummed in agreement at the right moments. While the woman talked and circled the statue, forcing him to walk around it from all sides, he found himself wandering aimlessly around the room, especially into the hallway. He especially wandered into the hallway.
He was glad he had managed to keep her entertained for so long, but he really hoped Alpha would show up to save him. With every passing minute...
Finally, Castiel appeared at the end of the hallway. Instead of heading toward them, though, he quickly continued toward the exit. Dean didn't need to see anything else; he knew something was wrong. When the staggering figure of Alpha appeared from the bar at the end of the hallway, his instincts kicked in full force. The growl of his omega echoed in his mind, saying only one thing: Protect Alpha!
"Excuse me," he muttered under his breath. Not even looking at the woman who was still talking, he set off after the sound.
°°0°°
A small smile twitched at Castiel's lips as he watched Dean's receding silhouette. He was beautiful when focused on a goal, even something mundane like keeping Roman's wife away for a few minutes. His entire body radiated determination and enthusiasm, and even his scent had changed. The sweetness of apple blossoms and the tang of pine were joined by a strong scent of concentration and a kind of sweet excitement. Omega smelled like an unmixed cocktail Castiel would definitely enjoy.
Dean disappeared through the main doors of the hall, and Castiel could no longer put off the main reason he had come there.
He turned his gaze to Roman, who was standing at his desk right at the front of the stage.
It was surely so he could reap the applause and maybe give a speech to the snobs around him. Most of them didn't really know who Roman was. The few who did or suspected it closed their eyes. He didn't really blame them. Everyone was trying to survive and live well. But, from a philosophical point of view, it was hypocrisy.
He finished Dean's beer, set the glass on the nearest table, and walked over to Roman, who had just sat down. He passed a woman who looked like she wanted to sit next to the other Alpha, but he took the seat she wanted.
Roman turned to him without haste. His scent hadn't changed much, even though Castiel was very close. He hadn't expected anything else.
"Alpha Novak..."
"Roman. Let's talk business," he began, leaning his hand on the table and leaning forward to invade the other Alpha's personal space. It didn't elicit a reaction. Castiel already knew why. First, Roman covered himself with a large amount of blockers, and then he applied an artificial mixture of Alpha scent that the Betas sprayed on themselves to give the impression that they were Alphas. This perfectly covered his scent, confusing every Alpha and Omega around him. However, it was also like dressing up in someone else's skin. It must have been uncomfortable for Roman.
"You're not exactly a fan of polite small talk."
"No," he replied curtly. "We could have made polite small talk during the nearly two hours you kept me waiting. Now, let's get down to business." Castiel turned away because it was pointless to try to make Roman nervous with his closeness. His lack of response only irritated Castiel's Alpha, who was already unhappy with how long Castiel had been ignored. Instead, he leaned back comfortably in his chair and lifted his chin. "There was an obstacle standing in the way of both of us. Now it's gone. We and our allies want to grow, and you want to penetrate the local market. Let's meet each other halfway. Let's make a deal. What do you say?"
"So an alliance is why you came here?" Roman replied.
"I wouldn't call it an alliance. I'd call it a business agreement. We can discuss something more later, once the market has stabilized."
"Allow me to speak now," said the second Alpha, putting down the wine glass he had been holding and lifting his chin. This pose made Castiel's Alpha growl in discontent. "Under no circumstances will we ever cooperate with communist scum like you. And don't think I'm impressed by how you play happy family with that Omega, if he is an Omega at all. I know what you are, and I would be disgusted to shake hands with someone like you. Now, excuse me. I have to prepare my speech," he added as if he hadn't already insulted Castiel enough. He stood up and walked toward the podium, leaving Castiel alone at the table.
A shiver of rage ran down Castiel's spine, and his gums began to itch and tighten as his fangs tried to break through his skin to bite Roman's neck. It wasn't just because of the talk; he didn't like Roman rubbing up against his omega. But mainly, it would solve all their problems. Without a leader, it would take the Arians at least six months to get back to New York. By then, Alastair's former territory would be dismantled, and the positions of power would be consolidated. All it would take is one good bite straight into Roman's spine. Rip it out nicely, and...
No! He forbade himself sharply, forcing himself to relax his clenched jaw and fist. He exhaled deeply, letting all his anger leave his body with the warm air.
Killing Roman would solve nothing. It would only cause more problems.
If he wanted to do it, it had to be well-planned. He had to minimize damage to his own ranks and reduce the risk of retaliation. Just like they did with Alastair. That took weeks of planning and would have taken longer if Dean's Alpha father hadn't rushed things along. But that didn't matter now. Things were what they were, and he had to work with what he had.
His hand wandered involuntarily to the cigarette pack in his pocket.
He had bravely endured several hours without nicotine and planned to hold out a little longer, reducing his craving to one pack a day. However, after his encounter with Roman, he felt he deserved a cigarette.
He got up and headed for the main exit, but hadn't taken two steps when Kessler blocked his way. He almost fell in front of Castiel, and if it hadn't been for the chair he leaned on, he would have ended up on the floor at his feet. That's how drunk he was. You could smell it on his breath and see it in his cloudy, slightly reddened eyes. He couldn't keep his Alpha completely under control because of the alcohol, so he couldn't let him express himself freely.
He sighed wearily and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
If another Alpha had stepped in his way the way Kessler just did, it wouldn't have left him so calm. But looking at the pathetic, drunken mess, he didn't feel even a twinge of concern. His Alpha just snorted contemptuously.
"I'm not in the mood for this, Kessler," he said, interrupting him.
"We need to talk," growled the second Alpha. His voice slipped into a strong German accent as he spoke softly, both due to the alcohol and his attempts to show his fangs.
"We have nothing to say to each other," he said, trying to get around him. But Kessler grabbed his forearm.
"You don't know what happened—"
"I know everything," he interrupted. Then he leaned closer so that only Kessler could hear him and whispered with malicious glee, "Who do you think ordered it?"
Confusion engulfed the other Alpha's face, and his already weak grip loosened.
Castiel seized the opportunity and headed straight for the exit. He quickly passed through the hallway, glanced back to make sure Dean was still talking to Roman's wife, and then headed outside. Regardless of who had organized this whole charade, there were too many eyes around for anything to happen to an Omega.
Besides, Roman was too foolish to harm Dean and tarnish his pristine reputation as a district judge on the verge of a federal court appointment.
In the lobby, he took out his cigarettes and lighter, tucked a filter between his teeth, and ignored the doorman's stern, disapproving look as he held the door open for him.
The icy night air bit into his jacket and brought moisture to his eyes. He quickly lit up, took a drag of the warm smoke, and exhaled it with relief toward the night sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Golem getting out of a nearby car. He raised his hand to stop Golem when he heard the angry growl of Alpha behind him.
The cigarette slipped from his hand. He turned in one fluid motion, ready to defend himself against his attacker. But he froze at the sight behind him.
Kessler had somehow managed to sober up enough in a matter of seconds to catch up with Castiel outside. Judging by his angry growls and bared teeth, he was determined to avenge his Mate. But Dean...
His Dean.
His omega.
He was quick and just as fast.
He appeared behind Kessler's shoulder. His muscular arm wrapped around Alpha's neck, and with one kick, he knocked Alpha off his feet.
Alpha fell into Omega's arms, finding himself trapped in Dean's unbreakable grip. Dean squeezed Alpha's throat, refusing to let go even when Alpha growled and dug his fingers into Dean's jacket with such force that the fabric gave way at the seams.
"Don't touch my Alpha!" the Omega growled through bared teeth. His eyes, usually green like grass, leaves, or emeralds, changed color to a rich honey gold.
He was beautiful. Wild and protective. The first thing Castiel felt when he looked at him was pride. Castiel was proud not only of his Omega but also of himself because he had tamed this wild Omega and bound him to himself. He was the perfect True Mate, strong enough to take care of himself and his puppies.
However, he didn't have much time to revel in his pride and joy because the doorman not only peeked through the front door but also noticed one of the late journalists filming the whole incident. He quickly checked to make sure that Kessler was still alive. If Dean had killed him, it would have been a big problem. Then, he straightened up from his defensive stance and said calmly,
"Omega."
Dean immediately stopped growling and looked up at Castiel over the limp body in his arms.
"Let him go."
Dean didn't hesitate for a moment. He loosened his grip and let Kessler fall to the hard pavement. Surprisingly, he had enough presence of mind to catch him before he could hit his head. He laid Kessler down gently and took a small, half-step back as if he had to control himself. He was tense, his eyes still amber, and the bitter pain in the scent carried by the cold wind to Castiel was palpable.
Castiel suppressed the urge to pull Dean toward him. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at the Beta bouncer who was approaching them. The Beta remained at a respectful distance. He was surely smart enough not to come between two Alphas and an Omega, even though this situation was somewhat unorthodox because an Omega was protecting an Alpha from a non-Alpha, not the other way around.
"Alpha Kessler is..." He looked at the unconscious man, who was breathing hoarsely and regularly. "Socially tired. I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you called him a ride. Discreetly," he added emphatically.
"Yes, Alpha," the doorman agreed. This was certainly not the first time he had dealt with a similar situation, nor with one of the wealthy guests who got so drunk or high that they were unable to do anything but vomit in the toilet.
"Dean," he said, addressing his omega again. Dean raised his head. "Let's go."
To Dean's credit, he didn't argue at all this time. He relaxed his shoulders as if a weight had been lifted from them and approached Cestiel. He put his arm around Cestiel's shoulders and pulled him closer. The Omega immediately turned his head and inhaled his scent. It was still surprising when someone sought out his scent, but he found it soothing. Alphas tended to irritate other Alphas—that was inevitable—and Betas could pretend, but it was still just that: pretending. It was not the real submission and obvious relaxation that now flowed in Dean's scent.
He let his hand slide down to the fleshy spot on the omega's neck. His alpha grunted in approval and directed him to a nearby car. As he walked past the waiting Golem, he nodded his head away.
He let Dean get in first. Before sliding into the seat behind Dean, he glanced back briefly. He saw that Kessler was struggling to get to his feet and that the Golem was crushing the onlooker's cell phone into plastic scrap.
One corner of his mouth twitched with the urge to growl, but he suppressed it. He sat down and closed the door behind him.
°°0°°
Dean's first thought was that this was totally screwed up when the car door separated the leather-scented interior of the Mercedes from the smells and sounds of the street, which suddenly turned into complete and strange silence. Complete and, strangely, calm silence. There was no dissatisfied, irritated growling coming from Castiel's clenched lips.
Not even the bitter smell of anger.
Instead, Dean heard the engine start, the click of the ignition, and the familiar, acrid smell of the Alpha's cigarettes caressed his nostrils. Along with the smoke came a long, somewhat frustrated but mainly resigned sigh from Castiel.
"Pizděc, bljad..." Alpha muttered into the surrounding cigarette smoke, and with another sigh, he leaned his head back against the headrest.
Dean felt stupid for failing his Alpha. He had angered and disappointed his Alpha above all else.
It was wrong—so terribly wrong—that his self-reproach made him feel sick to his stomach. He felt like one of those well-behaved Omegas who cared only about fulfilling their Alphas' wishes. He hated himself for it. He wasn't like that. Besides, Castiel didn't look angry. Dean hadn't done anything wrong. He was protecting his Alpha, and he felt like that was something deeply right.
Sure, he knew the Alpha could have handled that drunk Uzlíček himself, but still, he suppressed the guilt he felt for letting his Alpha down.
"I know I screwed up, Alpha. It's my fault we had to leave early, and the whole thing with Judge Roman probably didn't work out because of me. You can punish me, but I'm not going to apologize. I was protecting you, and I'd do it again, even if it was just a drunk Knotty," he declared, sticking out his chin defiantly.
Castiel opened his eyes and turned to look at Dean. His expression betrayed confusion and incomprehension, which confused Dean and took away some of his determination and defiance.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel said, surprising him with his reaction. "The deal with Roman was lost long before that idiot Kessler started playing the hero. You did exactly what I expected you to do."
"Something stupid and rash?" he said bitterly. Alpha didn't seem angry or bitter, so Dean spoke openly. He was well aware that, regardless of his previous dealings with the judge, what he had done certainly hadn't improved his chances of getting Sam back.
He might have even hurt them. It wouldn't be difficult for Alpha to piece everything together and, out of revenge, ensure that Sam never saw him again just because he caused a commotion at his wonderful charity auction.
"Net," Cas said firmly, grabbing his chin and lifting his face so they could look each other in the eyes. "I already told you not to apologize for protecting yourself, me, or our puppy. That's what a good Omega does."
Despite all the circumstances, a wave of warmth rose in his chest, and the words of praise made him feel proud. He tilted his head to the side and buried his nose in the sweet scent of cherries, honey, and almonds emanating from the Alpha's wrist. He smiled when Cas grunted in agreement and moved his hand from his chin to his cheek.
He enjoyed it for a few moments, until he practically believed that nothing had happened and he wasn't guilty of anything. However, he still thought he hadn't improved the situation at all. Then, he opened his eyes and pulled away a little.
"Roman was supposed to help us get Sam. Now he definitely won't," he said aloud, voicing what was bothering him.
A small wrinkle appeared between Alpha's eyebrows.
"Yes . . . this . . ." He said vaguely, taking his hand away from Dean's cheek and leaning back. "We'll find another way. Roman's connections aren't the only option. Don't worry about it. You may just have to be a little more patient."
He believed that Alpha had a plan, so he could be patient for a little while longer. For now.
Chapter Text
Arif threw his briefcase and keys on the table. He turned to his daughter, who was sitting in the client chair with an annoyed expression. She pulled her school backpack onto her lap and jerked her hijab off her head. He was all too familiar with this display of defiance. She knew he preferred that her hair be covered. When she was upset about something she considered unfair, she would throw her scarf into the corner and slam her bedroom door.
He sometimes understood her; as a boy, he didn't like it when his parents forbade him from going out with his friends because they wanted him to study. But this time, Mira's anger was not justified in the slightest.
"I don't know why you're mad at me. I'm not responsible for what happened."
"You could have let me go out with the girls," Mira snapped angrily, pouting.
"Someone threatened to attack your school."
“No, someone wrote on Facebook that something big was going to happen today. A bunch of idiots started discussing it and sending each other pictures of cats with machine guns. It was just a stupid joke. I don't understand why everyone is taking it so seriously. It's ridiculous to close the school because of that. Now I'm stuck here with you," she added, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
"It was your mother's wish. You know how she is now after what happened to Sam."
"Sure, after what happened to Sam," she repeated sarcastically, turning away.
Arif sighed and crouched down next to his daughter.
"Try to understand your mom a little. She cares about all of you a lot, and spending the afternoon here with me is the least you can do to make her feel better."
"Yeah?" She turned to him, wrinkling her nose and pressing her lips together. "All of us? I get the impression she cares most about her perfect Alpha boy."
After several attempts to have a third child, when they decided to become foster parents, Mira was not enthusiastic. She only reluctantly agreed when they told her they had no intention of taking anyone older than Anya. They were determined to stick to that until they received a call from Child Services describing Sam's situation. Apparently, he had never known his mother, his father was a criminal and a crazy survivalist, and he was being looked after by his sixteen-year-old Omega brother, who was a delinquent with a violent past, according to the Alpha from the Child Services Department. As a twelve-year-old Alpha, Samuel was at an age where, without a stable home with a well-ordered family, he would never learn to control his Alpha nature—and that would get him into trouble. This spoke both against and for his acceptance into the family. Managing a young Alpha was complicated for Betas, as they had been told in training. Sam deserved a chance, and when they could give it to him, they did.
"You know that's not true. Your mother loves you and devotes more time to Samuel because you two are strong and self-sufficient. Samuel has never known family life. He needs love and care. He needs help from all of us." He placed his hand on her hair and added seriously, "Even from you."
Mira's tense expression softened a little, but then she turned away again and said less angrily this time,
"Is the meeting room free? I'd like to go in there and chat with the girls."
"Sure," he said simply. He knew his daughter well and knew his words had affected her. “I’ll tell Penny to bring you something to eat.”
Mira grunted in agreement. She got up, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and had her cell phone in hand by the time she reached the door.
Arif also got up, planning to accompany Mira to the meeting room and then stop by reception. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was more like banging. It wasn't a fist, but it definitely sounded like hard blows from someone's large knuckles.
He frowned.
He wasn't sure if he had any appointments scheduled at this time. Having to pick up Mira from school had thrown off his entire schedule. That didn't mean he had time for the quarterly deadline, though.
Their clients, especially companies, also had deadlines. Half of them remembered at the last minute that they had lost the invoice he had sent them, or that they needed multiple copies with original signatures, or that they needed anything else their accountants should have checked on an ongoing basis and not left to the last minute. So, literally anyone could have decided to show up without an appointment.
He walked over to the door and opened it because he had no other choice.
Arif had never felt like a small man. He had outgrown his father at sixteen. Yet the man standing in the doorway, Alpha, stared at his massive chest in a white shirt with a black tie.
Slowly raising his gaze and head, he looked into the angular face with a huge jaw from which indifferent brown eyes looked down at him.
"Arif Chaudhry?" the huge Alpha asked.
"Yes, that's me. We have an appointment, Alpha...?" He let the question hang in the air.
Alpha let out a grunt from deep within his chest.
"No, we don't," came a voice from behind the Alpha, who immediately stepped aside to reveal the speaker.
Unlike the first Alpha, this second Alpha was smaller and more subtle, though only in stature.
His black suit, blue tie, and gold accessories flaunted not only his Alpha status, but also his wealth. Arif's father's words ran through his head: "Allah does not love the proud and conceited."
"Salamun alaykum," the smaller Alpha greeted as he entered the room.
Arif stepped back and automatically replied,
"Wa alaykum as-salam."
Mira responded to the greeting, though her words were somewhat indistinct.
"Castiel Novak," Alpha introduced himself, offering his hand.
"Arif Chaudhry," he replied, surprised that Alpha hadn't introduced himself as Alpha. He accepted the offered hand and sized up Alpha Novak again.
He certainly didn't look like their usual client. Their company was doing well. More accurately, they were managing to pay off their debts, pay their employees, and even hand out a few small bonuses.
However, it certainly couldn't be said that their floors and built-in furniture were so luxurious that someone like Alpha Novak would still want them.
"And your daughter, I presume?" Alpha Novak asked, glancing at Mira as he let go of Arif.
"Yes, my daughter Mira," he said, introducing her briefly before turning to her. "Why don't you go to the meeting room?"
"Sure, dad," she agreed. "Goodbye, Alpha Novak," she said and tried to leave.
However, Alpha Novak still stood in her way like a mountain and did not look like he was going to move. He looked at Mira in a cold manner that Arif did not like at all. But before he could open his mouth, the huge Alpha turned his gaze towards Novak, who gave him a brief nod, and the big Alpha immediately stepped aside in response to this simple, inconspicuous gesture.
Mira hesitated briefly before quickly leaving the office. Then, with some difficulty, the big Alpha entered the room—he had to bow his head to pass through the door—and closed the door behind him.
At that moment, Arif began to feel somewhat oppressed, almost threatened. To get rid of that feeling, he walked over to his desk and put this flimsy piece of wood between himself and the two Alphas who dominated the office with their presence, especially Novak. Especially Novak. He was an Alpha in command of a much larger and stronger Alpha.
"Please, Alpha Novak. Sit down and tell me how I can help you," he said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk. He then sat down himself.
Alpha Novak accepted the seat with his usual grace, while the other Alpha remained standing by the door, blocking it with his body, his hands clasped in front of him like a bodyguard in a movie. This certainly did not make Arif feel any calmer.
"I was hoping you would know who I am, which would speed things up. But, as I can see, I'll have to introduce myself better," said Alpha, folding his hands in front of his chest and looking at Arif thoughtfully. "Dean Winchester, the older brother of the Alpha in your care, is my mate.
He glanced quickly at the blocked exit again. With every word Alpha Novak spoke, Arif felt more and more uncomfortable, even though Novak hadn't said anything to make him nervous yet.
"If you're here because of Dean's visits, you've come for nothing. We will abide by the court's decision."
"Yes, I know: every Tuesday and Friday," Alpha interrupted, waving impatiently for him to stop talking. "I think it would be easier and more comfortable for everyone if Samuel returned to his brother. Don't you think?"
It wasn't something he hadn't expected. In fact, he had been prepared for it ever since they took Sam in. He knew his father would want him back sooner or later, and even as a criminal, he might have a chance. The penalties for white Alphas were ridiculous, no matter what they did. Their crimes were taken very seriously, especially when it came to their puppies. He expected this treatment from Alpha, who had hired an expensive lawyer for Sam's brother.
He leaned forward decisively and looked Alpha in the eye, knowing it was a challenge. In fact, he did it precisely because it was a challenge.
"We want to ensure a good life and future prospects for Sam. We won't stop him from seeing his brother, but we won't give Sam up. He's happy with us."
Alpha Novak didn't even blink. His face remained motionless, and his expression was calm. At that moment, Arif would have given anything for a more sensitive sense of smell, one that could tell him more than just that Alpha Novak smelled of cigarettes and garlic.
But even with Beta, he had a very poor sense of smell when it came to pheromones, so anything could be happening behind Alpha's mask, they could be seconds away from throwing themselves across the table, and Arif wouldn't get a single warning.
"I understand," Alpha said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "You care a lot about him. I heard how bravely your wife behaved during the incident with Alpha Winchester."
He wouldn't call the kidnapping an 'incident.' No one would. A crime, a disaster, a terrible event, but not an 'incident. The word was too trivial to convey all the fear Farah must have felt when Sam was kidnapped right in front of her.
"It's not easy to give up a child, but I believe we can find something to ease your loss. You just have to name it."
The Alphas often thought they could get what they wanted if they asked for it. But wanting a discount on a built-in wardrobe was a hell of a lot different from what Alpha Novak was offering. If Arif had ever considered giving up Sama for his older brother, even for a moment, he was certain he never would now.
"There's nothing you can offer us. I don't think we should continue this conversation," he said, standing up and towering over Alpha. He was well aware of how much they disliked that. You should leave."
He was prepared for a violent reaction, even calling for help if Alpha Novak decided to bare his fangs. Perhaps that was why it was so much more unsettling when both Alphas remained motionless and silent for several beats of Arif's heart before Alpha Novak finally stood up slowly. He did so gracefully and calmly, as if the rejection had not affected him at all.
"I understand," he said simply. He buttoned his jacket with one hand and smoothed it with both. Then, he let his gaze slide to the frame on the table.
It was one of those interactive frames with photos stored inside. It was pink and decorated with pink resin shells that Anya had made and glued to the frame. She had given it to him for his last birthday. She had chosen the photos herself. Just as Alpha picked up the frame, Anya's picture from the football game, where she was posing in a dirty jersey and a medal for participating, disappeared and a family photo from their last vacation appeared.
Farah and Mira were sitting in close proximity in deck chairs, both holding large cocktails. While Farah wore a light blue chiffon dress over her swimsuit and a matching hijab loosely draped around her neck, Mira wore a green bikini with a colorful scarf tied around her waist. Anya hugged her mother around the neck, leaned over the backrest, and smiled broadly, showing one half-grown tooth. She wore turtle-shaped sunglasses. Arif crouched between the deck chairs and photographed the whole scene.
Even Mira put aside her moody teenage mask for a moment and smiled.
It was a beautiful photo and a happy memory.
"Beautiful family," said Alpha Novak, looking at the photo so intently that Arif broke out in goose bumps for some reason. The look Alpha gave him next froze him in place.
"It's a blessing from God to have a family like that. You must be proud of them."
"Yes, I am," he replied mechanically.
"And you want to protect them, don't you?"
Arif swallowed hard.
That sounded like a threat.
"Of course. I would do anything for them."
"Well..." The Alpha drawled as he placed the picture back on the table. "Maybe you should start by realizing that Sam means as much to my Omega as your family means to you. And, as a proper Alpha, I will do everything in my power for my Omega."
Although it wasn't really a threat, Arif was sure that Alpha had warned him very strongly about the consequences if Sam didn't end up in his older brother's care. Consequences for Arif's entire family.
"Have a nice day, Mr. Chaudhry," Alpha Novak said, turning and heading for the door without shaking hands.
The huge alpha who had been guarding the door stepped aside and opened it for his employer. Alpha Novak stepped out into the hallway.
Then, the second Alpha gave Arif one last look before leaving the room as well.
Only when the door closed behind the two Alphas did Arif exhale. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. He slowly settled back into his chair.
He hoped this would be the first and last time he would have to defy Alpha Novak. If not, he was willing to face him again. For Farah and for Sam.
°°0°°
"Can we go now?" Mira asked in an annoyed tone. She stood in the doorway of his office, looking up at him from the cell phone she was holding.
"Just a moment. I need to find my keys," he replied distractedly.
He was sure he had left them on his desk, but he couldn't find them for the life of him. He had been losing things all day. Probably because today had been so hectic. First, he had to pick up Mira from school and take her to the office. Then, before they could settle in, Alpha Novak showed up with his bribe offer, followed by threats. It threw him completely off balance. Except for Samov's arrival and subsequent kidnapping, Arif's life had been peaceful. What else could disrupt the life of an accountant at a medium-sized family business? Quarterly closings were his only source of stress.
Until recently.
"Here they are!" He had finally found them, fallen into one of the drawers. Triumphantly raising the keys, he turned to Mira. "Now we can go get pizza."
"Finally," she said, rolling her eyes and turning on her heel.
Arif checked that the computer was turned off, turned off the lights, locked up, and followed her.
They walked down the narrow corridor together, passing the door to the meeting room and the kitchen. Then they passed the director's door and continued into the shop, which smelled of wood and glue. They walked past the reception desk toward the exit to the parking lot.
The sunset was already visible through the shop windows. Since he hadn't been feeling well today, work had taken him a little longer than usual. He suggested picking up some pizza on the way home for dinner.
“Shall we go to the usual place or try somewhere new?” he asked, reaching for his cell phone. He opened the map and searched for the nearest pizzerias.
"Anya would go crazy without her salmon pizza," Mira replied without looking up from her phone.
"That's probably true," he agreed, putting his phone back in his pocket. His youngest wasn't good at dealing with changes in her diet. "Let's go to the usual place, then. Will you have your favorite?"
"Hmmm," she grunted in response, perhaps in agreement.
“Don’t you want to try something new?”
"Maybe," she said vaguely, then laughed. Arif didn't doubt for a moment that her laughter was directed at a cartoon on her screen.
About a minute ago, Mira's mind had left the shared space.
After a difficult day, he wanted to spend some time with his daughter. Real, meaningful time. So he reached over and took her phone from her hand.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" she exclaimed indignantly, reaching for her phone.
He was faster. He quickly put the phone in his pocket.
"How about we spend some time together—really together—at least the hour before we bring dinner home? What do you say?" he asked sternly.
Mira pouted in protest. He sighed.
"It's just one evening, honey. Let's enjoy it. Maybe," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders, "we can get ice cream before dinner and not tell mom."
Mira let out an indefinite snort but glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Caramel with salted caramel chunks?” she asked, her voice tinged with the same tone he remembered from her childhood.
“Sure, why not?” he agreed with a smile. He let her go only because he needed to walk around the car to get to the driver’s door.
The impact to his side and the weight that pulled him aside came seemingly out of nowhere.
He didn't even have the strength to hold on to his briefcase, let alone stop himself and the man who had knocked him down from crashing into the car. He could only weakly attempt to protect his face with his arm.
He heard a scream behind him.
He turned his head and saw the man holding Mira. Then, another man grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground and ignoring her screams and kicks.
"Mi—"
That was all he could say.
A hard fist struck him in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe, let alone scream. Perhaps it was the lack of air and panic that caused him to make a clumsy attempt to elbow his way behind him. He immediately received several more blows, setting his side on fire with pain and making it impossible for him to defend himself any longer.
He felt helpless.
He couldn't help his little girl.
He couldn't even help himself.
He couldn't even scream.
He was paralyzed by pain, shock, and probably fear for himself and Mira. What did they want? His car? Money? His laptop?
"Take it. Take everything," he croaked through the pain.
His words had a miraculous effect.
The weight on his neck disappeared. Then, someone grabbed him from behind by the collar of his jacket and threw him to the ground. He landed on the hard, gravel-covered asphalt of the parking lot, which dug into his hands and knees. It hurt, but he was free.
He got up on all fours, then froze.
There weren't just two men; there were four.
Three stood around Arif, and the fourth held Mira tightly around the waist with his thin hand over her mouth.
Two were skinny; one was unhealthily so, lost in his stone-colored jacket. The other was lost in an oversized tracksuit. The other two were more muscular. But that was all he could say about them. They wore black ski masks, and the three standing around Arif were clutching weapons. One had a bat, one had a stick, and one had metal knuckles. Arif couldn't see very well. Not in the darkness enveloping the parking lot and not because he couldn't look anywhere but at Mira and the man holding her.
The blood pounded in his ears. It pounded like the pain in his side. Fear gripped his throat. But he knew he had to stay calm.
"Take everything... here..." He reached into his pocket, pulled out the keys, and threw them on the ground in front of him. "These are for the car. Take it. Take my briefcase too. Take everything; just don't hurt her."
"We're not here for your things, durak. We've come to deliver a message from Batyushka," said one of the men in a deep voice with an Eastern European accent. Arif had the impression that he knew that voice, or maybe he knew that accent. He couldn't quite place it.
The man who had spoken approached Arif, crouched down, and grabbed him firmly by the hair at the back of his neck. With one movement, he tilted Arif's head back so they were looking each other in the eyes.
"Let Sam Winchester go peacefully. Otherwise, we'll come back for him, and it won't be so nice. Do you understand?" He said this so close to Sam's face that Sam could smell the beer and garlic on his breath.
He jerked his head again, this time forcing him to look at Mira, who was still being held by one of the attackers. The same man immediately pulled the scarf from her head, and she let out a terrified scream.
Arif's heart leaped with dreadful anticipation of what was to come.
But the man just threw the scarf on the ground. Then, the second man struck a lighter and threw it at Mira's hijab. The delicate yellow fabric immediately burst into a surprisingly high flame.
"This is what happens when you don't do what we tell you," hissed the man holding Arif, knocking him to the ground.
This time, he managed to put his hands up in time so that he wouldn't fall face down on the pavement.
Mira screamed again. This time, it was because the man holding her was dragging her toward Arif. Her warm weight fell on him. Instinctively, he spread his arms to catch her, holding her tightly once he finally had his little girl in his arms.
Through her tousled, wavy brown hair, he saw the four men disappear into the darkness of the parking lot. From the far end of the lot, he heard the roar of an engine and the screech of tires.
They were gone.
All they left behind was a pile of smoldering fabric a short distance away and a few bruises.
Arif buried his fingers in his daughter's hair and pulled her tear-stained face into the crook of his neck.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Everything will be okay," he promised, even though he wasn't sure at all.
Chapter Text
Dean glanced at Alpha, who was sprawled in his usual seat in the limousine. His legs were comfortably stretched out in front of him. A burning cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. His gaze was fixed on the screen of his phone, and his fingers flew across the keyboard. Whatever he was writing to whomever, he didn't seem angry or irritated. His expression was relaxed, his eyelids heavy. The smell of freshly baked cherry pie with a hint of bitter almonds mingled with Dean's sour, bitter scent. Castiel's usual calmness fought with his nervousness in this mixture.
They were on their way to court.
The day before yesterday, Alpha Baum had informed Dean that Sam's foster parents had requested a hearing because they wanted to give up custody of Sam. Just like that, out of the blue.
Dean was the obvious choice to be the next foster parent, so according to Baum, it was best for Dean to show up at the hearing and be cautiously optimistic.
Dean was just that. He was excited to have Sammy back. Then their little pack would finally be complete.
However, the knowledge that people like Sam's foster parents—devoted and thrilled to have Sam, as Farah had shown—wouldn't give up custody easily dampened most of his enthusiasm. Sure, there could be family issues behind it. Maybe one of them was sick and couldn't handle the responsibility of caring for a puppy. Things like that happened. In a normal world, that is, one without Russian crime bosses.
Specifically, one was sitting across from Dean.
In the best-case scenario, Cas offered them enough money to convince them to give up Sam. In the worst case, Cas found a weakness and used it to force them to return Sammy. Either way, Dean was grateful to Cas, but he also felt guilty. Farah and her family didn't deserve anything bad. They took good care of Dean's puppy. He hoped it was the first option. He wouldn't have minded if they had taken the money. He would have slept better with a clear conscience.
"Cas..." he said aloud before he could stop himself.
"Da, sladkiy moy?" Alpha responded immediately, giving Dean his full attention with his sharp blue eyes.
Dean paused, suddenly unsure of what to say. He wanted to ask how Castiel had convinced Sam's foster parents to give him up. At the same time, though, he didn't want to know.
"Just...well...thanks for coming with me," he said instead.
"Sure, it's no problem," Cas replied, blowing out a cloud of smoke and returning his attention to his phone.
He didn't look thrilled that they might be taking Sam home with them today, and probably wasn't. He was probably just resigned to it. All things considered, that was probably all Dean could expect from Castiel, given everything he had already done for Dean in this matter.
Yeah. That's how Dean decided to take it, choosing not to ask too many questions. He would be grateful for what life gave him. He knew how to do that.
Leaning back into the slightly warm, comfortable upholstery, he raised his head to the sunroof, through which he could see the sky. Gray and monotonous. Boring, but somewhat soothing.
He watched the clouds pass by, trying to focus on them instead of looking out the window and counting every traffic jam they hit on the way to the courthouse.
The limousine finally stopped, and Golem opened the door for them.
Cas got out first, of course, followed by Dean. Together, they headed for the entrance while Golem returned to the limousine, drove off, and parked outside the no-parking zones.
According to Alpha Baum's instructions, they went to the same wing of the courthouse where he had applied for emancipation, but on a different floor.
Jacob and Vadim discreetly joined them along the way, having followed them in their car the entire time. It was as if something might happen to Castiel right there in the courthouse. Dean couldn't imagine any danger besides arrest. Especially in the family law wing, where there were only lawyers and quarreling married couples.
When they got off the elevator on what Dean hoped was the right floor and in the right hallway, he texted Alpha Baum their location. Fortunately, he was right—he really wasn't in the mood for Castiel's annoyed expressions today, which he used to indicate his perceived incompetence or stupidity. Baum soon picked them up at the elevator and seated them in practically the same seats as when Dean was last there.
There was nothing left to do but sit and wait for the court clerk to call their case number and have it appear on the board above the door—a new feature, unlike in the past. Or until Sam and his foster parents showed up.
They came from the elevator and, except for Farah, it was the first time he had seen them in person. Sure, Sammy had sent him their photos and social media profiles, but that was different from seeing them in person.
The father of the family was of average height and looked pretty normal. He didn't stand out in any way, not even in the suit he wore with such confidence, as if it were his everyday work attire — which it probably was. He was a company accountant at a cabinet manufacturing firm.
He had seen Farah before. Then, as now, she looked damn good in a dark brown pantsuit, cream blouse, and matching scarf. Her high-heeled shoes emphasized her nice, long legs.
Then there were their two daughters.
The older one could easily have been Dean's classmate. She had almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, a pointed chin, and thin, pink lips. She walked a little uncertainly in her heels and skirt. She was nothing like Cas's girls, who walked gracefully like deer. A dark green scarf with some kind of ornament lay on her shoulders instead of her hair, which was covered by a white blouse.
The younger one was about six or seven years old. She was still a puppy, her big eyes full of curiosity as she looked around the courthouse. She had clearly never been there before, and her slightly open mouth showed it. She must have had a say in choosing her outfit because she was wearing a tutu skirt that was too long, strappy shoes despite the cold weather, and a knitted sweater with large holes over a long-sleeved white T-shirt—Dean was sure the T-shirt was the only compromise his mother had allowed—and a light beige silk scarf with gold embroidery around the edges was tied around her head. Unlike her mother and sister, she had tied it tightly.
Of course, Sammy came with them.
Dressed in a suit with shoulder-length hair, he looked somehow too grown up, not to mention tall. How could he have grown so much in the two weeks they hadn't seen each other? If he continued growing like this, he would be as tall as Dean by the time he was thirteen. He was no longer a little puppy, which made his chest tighten and his Omega whimper with longing for the weeks and months he had missed with his puppy.
Damn it! Pull yourself together, Winchester! You're taking him home today. This cheered him up a little but didn't stop him from taking a step toward Sam.
They looked into each other's eyes.
Sammy stopped.
Dean took another step.
At that moment, though, Sam placed his fist on Dean's back, guiding him forward. At the same time, Dean felt a familiar weight on his shoulder.
He turned to Castiel, who had stood up and was now holding him gently but firmly by the shoulder. As their eyes met, Castiel shook his head slightly.
"I just want to say hello," he said, letting the words trail off.
"If you don't talk to each other now, everything will go more smoothly. There will be less emotion," said Alpha Baum.
Dean frowned. Sure, less emotion. She was obviously referring to his sentimental Omega feelings. He was happy to see his little brother, of course, and he was nervous and excited, but that didn't mean he was stupid or unable to control himself. He wouldn't make a scene.
"Fine. Okay," he said simply, sitting back down in his seat.
Castiel sat down next to him. Baum took a tablet out of her briefcase and began reading something on it while sitting on the edge of the chair.
Despite how many people were there, the hallway was quiet. Everyone observed the unwritten rule not to talk loudly in a courthouse, so any conversation was more like a distant hum. Sam and his foster parents were talking further down the hallway. They were far enough away that he couldn't hear anything. He could only see the looks they were giving him. Farah looked worried. Now that he had time to look at her face more closely, he noticed that she was hiding puffy eyes under her makeup. Her husband was frowning at them. Meanwhile, the two girls were entertaining themselves with something on the tablet their mother had given them. Dean guessed it was a fairy tale, judging by the older one's smirk.
Soon, Sam and his foster parents were joined by a small, thin young man. He was more Beta than Alpha; Dean didn't sense anything when he walked past them. He covered his scent with a blocker, which didn't look very Alpha. In court cases, they used all means, including dominance. Dean had seen on TV several times how judges got angry at lawyers for not using blockers and for stinking up the courtroom. That's why they were better and more expensive than Beta lawyers.
While they waited, the courtroom doors opened several times, and people came out. A chime signaled the start of a new hearing on that floor, along with the number above the door. The place felt more like a post office than a courtroom.
Ding!
"That's our case," said Baum, interrupting his stare at Sam and his foster parents.
Alpha Baum signaled that they should let them go first. They all then entered the courtroom together.
Castiel let Dean go right next to his lawyer and took his place beside him. This seemed more like support than leadership, which would have been surprising with most other Alphas. But with Cas, Dean wasn't surprised. He was grateful for it. He wanted support but also wanted to prove himself. To take care of his puppy.
He nodded gratefully when his Alpha simply sat down in the front row, leaving him alone at the table next to Baum.
Sam's foster father and his lawyer sat at the second table. Sammy sat behind them. Next to Sammy was the woman who took care of the children. Dean remembered her all too well. She was the same one who had brought him to Sun Hill. Mouse... Mosley. He wasn't sure of her name, but he remembered her face. Seeing her again didn't make him happy.
Apart from those mentioned, there was a court clerk, a court reporter, and an elderly, balding judge, probably a Beta. He wore square glasses, and due to his short stature, he was lost in his robe and behind the bench.
The judge looked up from the documents he was reading and glanced at them over the rims of his glasses.
After a moment of staring, he said:
"Let's begin," tapping the wood on the table so lightly that it was barely audible and motioning with his gavel to Sam's foster parents' lawyer. "You go first.”
"Certainly, Your Honor," the lawyer said, taking several documents from the table and heading toward the bench. “My clients, Farah and Arif Chaudhry, have had the minor, Alpha Samuel Winchester, in their care since October 27, when they were appointed his emergency guardians.” He placed the documents in front of the judge, who took them and looked them over. "After discussions with Child Services and the legal representative of Omega Dean Winchester, the emancipated minor present here, my clients have decided with heavy hearts to relinquish custody of Sam Winchester, ideally in favor of his older brother."
"I see," the judge said, putting the documents aside. "I have no choice but to remove Mr. and Mrs. Chaudhry's custody rights over Samuel Winchester, as they have requested. You may withdraw."
With another light tap, he sealed it. It was quick and easy. Almost too quick and easy. In Dean's experience, things never went so smoothly. But this time, it seemed they might.
"Now to you," said the judge, rather impassively. "I have your request for guardianship here, along with a recommendation from a social worker who endorses your client as a guardian for his younger brother. I also have letters of recommendation from the foster parent who cared for your client, as well as from a detective from the Special Victims Unit. In addition, there's his impressive financial background and a contract for future mating with an equally well-off Alpha. It all looks good on paper. The question is, what is the reality? Stand up, young man," he said to Dean, motioning to him with his gavel.
He already knew to stand up, so his lawyer didn't have to remind him.
"My only question is, who do you currently live with?"
Ah, yes, there was the complication he had been expecting. Once the judge was satisfied that he lived with Castiel, his request would be denied because, as everyone knew, two unrelated Alphas in one den usually did not end well. As Cas put it, they either kill or fuck each other.
Even though Sammy was technically still considered a puppy under the law, it should have been fine on the surface. However, it was obvious to anyone who looked at him—including the judge—that he was no longer a little boy.
He pursed his lips and considered lying for a moment but saw no point in it. It would come out eventually anyway.
"My Alpha and I live in an apartment," he said, choosing his words carefully. Saying that he lived "with Alpha" would create the impression that he was a well-behaved Omega. However, he felt that this judge was similar to the one who had granted his emancipation.
It seemed reasonable to show that he was self-sufficient and capable of thinking for himself. Even if it was just with this one sentence. "That's not exactly the best situation," the judge remarked. "Young Alphas need an Alpha role model in their lives, but it's best if it's a blood relative. I am reluctant to entrust your brother to you, Omega, when you live in a household with an Alpha."
Dean caught a movement behind him as Castiel leaned toward the Alpha lawyer and whispered something in her ear. She glanced at Dean quickly before nodding and standing up.
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but the Alpha with whom my client lives and has a future mating agreement is present and would like to speak with your permission.”
"All right, all right. Let him come forward," the judge agreed, gesturing with his gavel.
Castiel stood up and stepped beside Dean.
"Your Honor, I understand how complex this situation is, and I know it's highly unusual for an Alpha to willingly take in an Alpha puppy, as I'm about to do. However, I am doing this not only for my Omega but also because I understand how much Sam misses having a father figure. I lost my parents when I was young, and although my adoptive mother was the best thing that could have happened to me, she was only a Beta. I want to give Sam more than the care of two Betas who will never truly understand him."
Wow, that was so well said that Dean almost believed Castiel. They were spoken with such sincerity and fervor. For him to truly believe it, though, he would have to not know how long the Alpha had refused his request and how harshly the Alpha had treated Sam. Though lately, since they killed Alastair together, Dean's attitude had been slightly more positive. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as hostile toward Sam anymore.
Dean kept this small hope deep inside so as not to ruin it by pushing too hard. He hoped that, for the judge, this speech was as sincere as it sounded.
"Well said, Alpha. You seem truly willing to take on this difficult task."
"I am, Your Honor."
"Good, good . . . but there is someone else who should have their say on the matter," the judge remarked, turning back to Sam's foster parents. However, when he spoke, it was clear that he wasn't talking to them. "What do you think about living with your brother and his Alpha Mate, young man?"
An expression of uncertainty flashed across Sam's face, gone so quickly that only Dean noticed it. Then, Sam slowly stood up. He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin.
"All I want is to live with my brother again. We've always taken care of each other," he said firmly, almost like a real Alpha.
"Yes, but now your brother has an Alpha to take care of him. You will have to share the attention of your family Omega and respect the rules and orders of the Alpha in whose lair you will live. Can you do that?"
"I..." Sammy quickly glanced at Castiel, who smiled encouragingly and nodded to prompt him to answer correctly, and then at Dean. "I'll definitely try, Your Honor. With all my strength."
"Good. Yes, it seems we have a general consensus here. You're three against one," the judge said, turning to all of them. He even added something like a joke, which was a good sign, and smiled. "I entrust Alpha Sam Winchester to the care of his Omega brother, Dean Winchester. For the time being—for a period of six months—there will be at least four visits from the Department of Child Services. At the end of this period, it will be assessed whether Dean has provided suitable conditions for his brother. I hereby close this hearing," he concluded with a light tap on the wood of his desk. "You may take your brother now, Omega Winchester."
"Thank you, sir. Your Honor," Dean said automatically.
"Dean...!"
The urgent voice of his little brother, his puppy, seemed to erase everything else around him. He knew he was still in the courtroom and that he was ignoring his Alpha, who looked like he wanted to say something. But he didn't care. His Omega was stirring triumphantly inside him, trembling with excitement and driving him toward Sam, who was approaching quickly from the next row of benches.
They collided somewhere in the middle of the aisle between the benches.
Dean grabbed Sam around the shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, which the Little Alpha immediately returned with unusual strength that was almost suffocating.
Dean's nose filled with the deep scents of freshly cut sandalwood and olives, underscored by the sweet, almost caramel scent of happiness and a hint of puppy. Unfortunately, there were also the unfamiliar scents of soap, shampoo, and laundry detergent. For some reason, these scents upset Dean's Omega more than the mixture of Beta scents that had clung to Sam during his time with his Beta foster parents. Smelling things on Sam that Dean hadn't bought was frustrating and upsetting. His puppy should smell like what he likes and like himself.
He knew a courtroom wasn't the best place to mark Sam. Honestly, he was probably too old for that now. He certainly looked too mature. But Dean didn't care at that moment. Instead of forcing the puppy to bow down so he could mark him, he tilted his head to the side and rubbed his scent glands against Sam's hair. He left a small mark, which he checked with a quick sniff.
"It's time to go, Omega Winchester," the Alpha's lawyer interrupted.
Dean bit his lip to suppress the growl escaping his lips.
"Yeah, sure. I know..." He pulled away, leaving his hand in a protective and slightly possessive gesture around Dean's shoulders. Under the weight of Dean's arm, his shoulders slumped into the familiar hunched posture. "Let's go... Sam. Let's go home."
This time, he let Baum and Cas go first and led Sam out of the courtroom after them. He was glad that both Alphas headed straight for the elevator. If there was any paperwork left to do, the Alpha lawyer had it in her hands, along with Dean's full support. Sam's things could be picked up by the Alphas' people sometime later. There wasn't much that really belonged to him anyway. Most of his belongings were actually his foster parents'.
"Have you eaten yet?" Dean asked, pulling Sam closer. "We can stop for a bite to eat. We can, right?"
"Yes. I don't have anything for today," Alpha agreed, standing next to Baum, who pressed the elevator button.
Sam glanced from Dean to Castiel and back again. He took a breath to answer, but was interrupted.
"Sam."
Everyone turned toward Farah, who had caught up with them.
"This is for you," she said, offering Sam a plastic box with a pink lid containing white candies with green bits that looked like pistachios. "They're pistachio barfi. Your favorite. I brought them with me... I want you to have them for the road."
"Thank you. Farah," Sam said, taking the box from her. Dean's Omega didn't like it, but he kept quiet. He knew it was nice of Sam's former foster mother, and it would be cruel not to let her give Sam something for the road. "And thanks for everything. It was nice staying with you," he added, then turned to Dean. "Are we going or what?"
Dean frowned slightly. Sam had never been happy, and in the last year or two, he could be downright annoying. But he wasn't usually this cold and dismissive. This much... Alpha.
Castiel stepped into the elevator that had just arrived without another word, and Alpha Baum followed him, nodding curtly in greeting. Then Sam and Dean entered last.
Before the elevator doors closed, Castiel was the only one who took a last look at Sammy's foster parents.
Farah stood in front of the elevator with tears in her eyes while her husband stood in the hallway hugging his older daughter and his younger daughter squealed in his hair.
Despite Farah's tears and her husband's gloomy expression, they looked like a happy family.
Dean really hoped that they would be fine and that no one like Alpha would ever enter their lives again.
°°0°°
Sammy didn't say anything, ask any questions, or make a face. Without protest, he took off his shoes and put on the slippers that Dean had left for him. He hoped that they would bring him home today. Then, he slung his backpack, which was full of his clothes and personal items, over his shoulder. He had left everything else, including his cell phone, with his foster parents. He stepped aside, making room for Castiel. He didn't behave submissively; he kept his chin up and his back straight. But he showed respect, and he controlled his scent so that he smelled mainly of sandalwood with just a hint of rancid olive oil.
Even Dean couldn't tell if the older Alpha had noticed his behavior. He believed he was good at recognizing Cas's moods by the subtle nuances in his scent and face. Of course, he watched him very carefully. Literally every move he made.
He watched the way Cas took off his shoes and slipped into his slippers, the way Cas crossed himself in front of Jesus, and the fact that Cas headed straight for the kitchen and the shelf where they kept their spirits. "Hey... I'll show you your room," he said, leaving Alpha to calmly pour himself a glass of liquor and light a cigarette.
"You'll like it. It's bigger than the one you had at the Betas' and has a balcony," he said, holding Sam around the shoulders and leading him to the nearest door. "And a big closet," he added, glancing at Little Alpha.
Sam hesitated, but he didn't stop or show fear like he always did when Dean started talking about closets. Still, there was a hint of uncertainty.
"That's nice. I have more stuff now than I used to."
Dean grunted in agreement because... honestly, even though Sam was still nervous about the closets, he wasn't acting like the puppy he knew, and somehow he didn't think he'd have to go into Sam's room that evening under some false pretext to check his closet. And that was weird. It was different than he expected. Everything was weird between them.
He swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat, forced a smile, and tried to think positively so his uncertainty wouldn't show in his scent. The last thing he needed was to start smelling like a desperate Omega. That would put both Alphas on alert. Given their history, it could end with them going for each other's throats less than an hour after Sam was returned to him.
He opened the door and entered.
"Ta-da!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide.
Sammy paused in the doorway, craning his neck into the room and flaring his nostrils as he took a deep breath. Dean knew he was perfectly clean. He could smell the chemical freshness and ozone from the air purifiers, but nothing else. Maybe he could smell just a little bit of his own scent, which he had left behind when he plugged in the computers and laid out the bedding, towels, toothbrush, and toothpaste—just the most basic necessities. The most basic necessities for life. He wanted to leave the rest to Sam.
"It's a little spartan," he said, breaking the awkward silence between them. Luckily, he drew the Little Alpha at least a step across the threshold and earned his attention. "But we can fix that. We can buy you anything you want here.
It's fine here," Sam replied. He walked over to the bed, threw his bag next to it, and kicked it under the bed.
Dean frowned slightly.
It was part of the emergency protocol. For example, they did it when they couldn't afford a motel and knew they would be fleeing at dawn. Sometimes, they did it just because their dad told them to, which usually meant they were fleeing early in the morning or late at night. It wasn't because of money, but for other reasons that even Dean usually didn't know.
"Some posters or a bookcase with books..." He let the sentence trail off.
"Okay. Sure. Why not." Little Alpha shrugged and sat down on the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, as if ready to jump up at any moment.
As an Alpha puppy, he was always cautious in unfamiliar surroundings. Sometimes, he really didn't like the places where they had to sleep. Hell, neither did Dean, but he didn't show it. He did what his Omega instincts told him to do and built a temporary home from what circumstances provided. It always calmed Sam down. But Sam wasn't as tense as he was now. Maybe he should try it anyway.
It was the only thing his Omega was whispering to him: Calm and soothe his puppy.
Glancing through the door, he saw Castiel sitting with his back to them, cigarette in one hand, probably cell phone in the other. Over Castiel's elbow, Dean could see a glass with something transparent in it on the table.
It could have been a gin and tonic or a vodka drink. Cas could drink two shots of vodka like it was nothing.
Dean quickly glanced at Sam, who was looking in the same direction through the door at the other Alpha.
He let his instincts guide him. The first thing he did was close the door, separating the two Alphas. That alone seemed to help; Sammy's shoulders visibly slumped, and the tension in his back eased.
Then Dean sat down next to him.
"Everything will be fine now. You'll see. It'll be okay," he said, clumsily attempting to calm Sammy down further.
It wasn't working. Sam wasn't the same puppy that Sam had left behind almost two months ago. Maybe their bond was gone. This idea terrified his Omega. She felt rejected and like she had failed to care for her puppy.
"Maybe, but it'll never be the same," Sam said gloomily, his gaze fixed on the closed door. "It'll never be just us again. The judge might be right. Maybe me and him," he nodded toward the door, "can't live in the same lair."
Dean was determined to confidently declare that he could work it out because he was sure he could. After all, he had managed not to kill Cas and Dad. He had done the same for Castiel, and Sam wouldn't be such a problem. After all, Sammy was a stubborn mule, but he was still no match for Dad. But before he could address the issue, there was a knock on the door.
They both turned at the sound.
It could only be Castiel.
Although he had a challenge for the Alpha on the tip of his tongue, he turned to Sam and left it to him.
"Yeah, come in!" the Little Alpha called.
The door opened, but despite the invitation, Castiel did not enter. He stood a good half step behind the doorway, as if he didn't want to disturb the room's air with his scent. Damn it! That was it. He didn't want to bring his scent into Sam's room.
"I ordered pizza," Cas said, picking up his cell phone while still holding a smoldering cigarette in his other hand. "I made popcorn, too. I have to run to the office for a minute. Let me know when the pizza is on the table. Da?"
"Sure," Dean agreed, glancing briefly at Sam, who was watching Castiel from under his furrowed brow and was tense again. "Shall we watch something later?"
"Sure, whatever you want," Cas agreed neutrally. He glanced quickly at Sam before turning to leave. He took a drag on his cigarette and closed the door with his other hand in one movement, separating them once again in the privacy of Sam's room.
Sammy exhaled slowly and relaxed.
"That was...a little weird," he began hesitantly, furrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully.
Dean couldn't help but laugh briefly. He recognized the expression he had seen on Castiel's face in the beginning, when the big, dominant Alpha with a tendency to be stubborn and bossy wasn't what he seemed at first. Despite all the circumstances, he was just a human being.
"And you haven't seen him right after he wakes up!" Dean laughed and nudged Sam in the ribs with his elbow.
The Little Alpha curled his lip, revealing his fangs in an angry growl. His scent was slightly irritating but not offensive.
Dean laughed again, then bared his teeth and pounced on his little brother like a beast on its prey, giving him a good, educational beating.
Chapter 108
Notes:
My dear friends... I am very sorry that I don't have time to respond to comments. I read them all, they make me very happy, and I thank you very much for them. In return, I try to devote my free time to writing and translating. :-)
Chapter Text
"Dude, that's absolutely disgusting. It looks and feels like vomit."
Sam let out a dissatisfied growl and glared at Dean from behind his absurdly long hair.
"Don't be so dramatic. It's just spinach," he growled in response.
Dean looked skeptically at the tall glass of blended greens Sammy had prepared for breakfast, along with a pile of avocado toast and cooked beets. It looked as good as the photos on food blogs and didn't smell as bad as he expected, but damn! This was hardly real food, let alone breakfast for a growing Alpha. But Sam was adamant—this was exactly how he wanted to eat. A smoothie maker and various mixtures of seeds, nuts, and avocado were the only things he’d asked for during his short stay. And of course, Dean indulged him. He kind of understood how Sammy felt, not wanting to spend too much of Castiel's money or be indebted to him. At first, Dean had felt the same way until he realized that money was the last thing an Alpha cared about. For everything he did, Castiel didn't really expect anything more in return than Dean's loyalty and love.
"Don't you want at least some eggs?" Dean asked, pushing a pan of eggs sizzling in bacon fat in front of Sam.
Sam bared his teeth and snarled as if eggs were his archenemy. "No, I don't. Get that away from me, you jerk!" he protested, pulling back as if offended by the smell.
Dean's own omega growled with discontent. He didn't like this one bit, and neither did his inner Omega. It was his nature to feed and care for his puppy, and Sam was making it unnecessarily difficult.
"Fine," he snapped, scraping all the eggs and bacon onto his plate. "But when you get hungry, don't go digging into our pancakes," he added, gesturing to the stack on the table that was prepared for Castiel's return. As was his custom, he’d been out all night and didn't return until around five or six in the morning. He must have had a lot of work to do. Dean hoped it was just work and not some new problem getting in his way. He just hoped it wasn't anything that would sour Castiel's mood because so far, he and Sam had managed to… well, not exactly tolerate each other, but at least ignore each other. They didn't exchange a word beyond a quick greeting. Of course, it couldn't last forever, but for now, it was peaceful, and Dean was okay with that.
"I've had enough," Sam assured him. He grabbed his plate and went to sit at his usual place at the table, which was, of course, opposite Castiel, so he could keep the other Alpha under surveillance.
Dean sat down with his plate overflowing with eggs and bacon. As soon as he was seated, he grabbed his fork, shot a provocative glance at Sam, and stuffed a generous portion of bacon into his mouth.
The little Alpha just rolled his eyes and took a bite of his healthy toast.
Just then, a knock sounded at the front door. Whether he wanted to or not, Dean’s attention immediately shifted from his food and his imaginary battle with Sam to the approaching Alpha. As soon as Cas appeared at the top of the stairs—dressed, as always, in a suit, though not the one he had worn yesterday; somehow, the Alpha seemed less radiant, as if something were missing—Dean's Omega began to wag its tail excitedly. It was ridiculous, and Dean hoped the feeling would stop. Nevertheless, Dean's Omega was excited to see her Alpha again after so many hours without him. Dean thought it was ridiculous and hoped these overwhelming feelings would disappear, or at least lessen, over time. In reality, however, they seemed to grow stronger by the day. They grew even stronger when Castiel headed directly for Dean.
He passed Sam without a glance, approached Dean, lifted his face with two fingers, and pressed his lips to Dean's.
Castiel tasted like a fresh cigarette, likely one he had just put out before getting out of the car. Along with the smell of baked cherries and bitter almonds, this was the Alpha's normal taste and scent. This time, however, those scents were overpowered by the heavy smell of burning wood, wax, and especially incense, as well as the countless pheromones and body odors of many people. This included Castiel's sweat, which was strange because the Alpha seemed to never sweat—not to the point of an unpleasant stench that would drown out his pheromones.
"Dobroye utro, moya sladkay," Cas purred softly.
But Dean slightly frowned and gave him a searching look.
He quickly realized what was different about the Alpha besides the terrible stench—which was unlike the smell he carried from his drunken nights at the Doll—Castiel wore no jewelry. He had no rings or bracelets; he didn't even have simple cufflinks or a gold watch on a leather strap.
"Good morning to you too, honey," he replied automatically, sniffing the air again and wrinkling his nose in disgust. "You smell weird."
"Incense. I went to morning service," Cas replied, straightening up and heading deeper into the kitchen.
Dean watched him go to the samovar instead of the coffee maker and start pouring tea into his mug.
"Oh, was it nice?" Dean asked, immediately realizing how stupid he sounded.
The problem was that he felt he should say something, but the Alpha's religion and the shrine in his study were completely beyond Dean. He sensed he should behave respectfully. After all, that's how his father had raised him: to respect churches, priests, and religion. However, God was not something he believed in or wanted to believe in.
"Exhausting. And cathartic," Castiel replied as he returned to the table. He held a mug of tea in one hand and a plate with two slices of whole-grain toast and a knife in the other. He sat down at his place with all this.
Dean automatically pushed a plate of bacon toward Castiel, followed by a plate of pancakes, silently offering him food. The Alpha didn't always eat right after arriving. Sometimes he was so tired or drunk that he fell asleep in bed immediately. But the fact that he had brought toast meant that he would eat this time.
Instead of pancakes or bacon, however, Castiel pulled a plate of butter toward him and began to spread a thin, barely visible layer on the toast.
"Aren't you having bacon and eggs or pancakes?" he asked, perhaps with unnecessary irritation. He had made a pile of great food for the two Alphas, but one preferred rabbit food and the other dry toast.
"Today's service marked the beginning of Advent fasting," the Alpha replied calmly without looking up from carefully buttering his toast.
Dean took a breath to ask a question, but Sam was the one who spoke, surprisingly. It was the first time he had spoken in Castiel's presence without being prompted.
"Advent, or Philip's Fast, is a pre-Christmas fast in Orthodox Christianity. One must not eat any meat, except for fish and seafood. One should eat moderately, give up vices such as alcohol and cigarettes, and not neglect regular prayers and worship services."
As the younger Alpha spoke, Cas glanced at him quickly. As he continued his explanation, the older Alpha stopped buttering his toast and looked at the younger Alpha expressionlessly.
Dean sucked in air, ready to intervene if Sam said something inappropriate. However, Castiel's scent, though overlaid with incense and sweat, did not turn bitter on his tonsils. It remained as relaxed as before.
"Very good, puppy," Cas finally said, breaking the brief silence. He put the knife down on the plate and bit into his dry toast with just a little carefully smeared butter on top.
"Um... okay... and what does that mean? That we're not going to eat meat now? Because I'm not giving up my bacon!" He emphasized combatively—perhaps too much so—but the idea of fasting was not at all pleasant to him for some reason. Yet he was used to making do when necessary, but he didn't want to go back to that. Not when he didn't have to.
The Alpha sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he turned a weary gaze on Dean; his scent was permeated with a bitter hint of irritated frustration.
"No, of course not," he replied in his usual irritated tone when Dean said something stupid and he was running out of patience. He put the half-eaten toast on his plate. "Fasting is a personal matter. It has nothing to do with the two of you," he said, standing up. "I'll be in my study," he added, walking around the table.
Dean's inner Omega urged him to stop the Alpha and appease him, but he was determined to ignore it. If Castiel wanted to hide in his study, that was his decision, not Dean's concern. But the doorbell ruined that.
All three turned their eyes to the door.
Cas's men called their boss or Dean on the cell phone the Alpha had given them for that purpose. Messengers did the same. The only person who would come to the door was Balthazar. The only person who could call the home phone was the receptionist when a visitor arrived. That never happened. No one could visit them unannounced.
Dean put down his fork and stood up.
"I'll go," he announced to the Alpha, who had come to the same conclusion, but whose instincts urged much more caution.
Dean walked to the door and quickly realized from the screen that it wasn't the doorbell but the intercom from the reception desk. After a moment's hesitation, he pressed the button he thought would work, and luckily, it did. A line appeared on the small screen, which flickered when he spoke.
"This is Alpha Novak's apartment. Can you hear me?" he asked because the system was so old that he was afraid it might not work properly.
"Yes, this is Mike from reception. You have a visitor: a Mrs. Moseley. Will you come get her, or should I send her away?"
Moseley was from Child Services. But what was she doing here? At this time of day and unannounced? Perhaps it was one of those checks the judge had mentioned. But why now? Sammy hadn't even been living with them for a week! Besides, today wasn't exactly the best day to let strangers into their home. The Alpha looked tired and wasn't in the best of moods. But it seemed he had no choice. He couldn't send the woman away.
Alpha Baum had made it clear. He had to allow the authorities to conduct inspections; otherwise, they would take Sammy away again. That would not be good for anyone, including the Alpha, who would have to find another way to get Sam back.
"Okay, I'll come and get her. Tell her to wait a moment."
"Okay, I'll tell her."
Dean hung up and leaned his hand against the panel. He took a breath to prepare himself for the resistance of the two Alphas. Yes, Sam wouldn't be thrilled about this inspection either. Then, he pushed off the wall and quickly ran to the top of the stairs.
"That was reception. Moseley is here. She's the woman from social services. She's probably here to check on Sam. Baum said we shouldn't refuse inspections, or there will be problems." He left it unfinished, allowing the Alpha to figure it out for themselves.
Sammy frowned in dissatisfaction, of course, but Castiel remained calm as always.
"Take her upstairs. We'll get ready," he said simply. That was probably the most Dean could expect from him for now, so he nodded and returned to the door.
On the way, he took the access card out of his jacket pocket.
°°0°°
"Okay, I'll tell her," said the receptionist, pressing a button and looking up at Missouri. "Someone from the top suite will be with you in a moment. You can wait over there." He gestured toward the wall next to the entrance door.
"Thank you," Missouri said, smiling at him as she went to stand where he had recommended.
It was before eight o'clock, and crowds of people were streaming into the building on their way to work. Having an apartment in a place like this wasn't common, but at least it was a safe part of town. However, there was a critical shortage of parks and other places where boys like Dean and Sam could meet their peers and have fun. Business districts simply weren't designed for that. God knew those two deserved a better childhood—or any childhood at all.
But circumstances, especially the system, made that impossible for them. It was Missouri's fault, too. She should have stood up for Dean more firmly when Patricia decided to send him to Sun Hill.
Damn it!
In almost thirty years, she had made enough friends in the police department and the court system to help Dean. Perhaps she could have helped him do what Alpha Novak had done for him—emancipate himself and gain custody of his younger brother. But she failed.
All she could do was fight both cases alongside Patricia and help the boys be together again. She also hoped that their life would be better than it seemed at first, because a young Omega like Dean shouldn't have to live with someone twice his age. It wasn't right. It was as if it were the 1950s, not the year 2020. The only small consolation was that Alpha Novak had refrained from mating for the time being. Until then, Dean still had a chance to leave.
A crowd had gathered in front of the elevators, parting slightly to let one person through: Dean.
On her way to meet him, Missouri had already examined him thoroughly with her experienced eye, honed by years at the Child Welfare Department. She was somewhat surprised to find that he showed no obvious signs of neglect or psychological abuse. Of course, these things might not be obvious at first, but still. Dean walked toward her with a relaxed gait, his head held high and his shoulders straight. This was unusual for an Omega, but it suited him, as he didn't actually look like one. Since their last meeting at Sonny's house, as she had noticed in court, Dean had grown taller, his shoulders had broadened even more, and the hollows in his cheeks had disappeared. Clearly, he finally had enough food to grow, and he had gained some Omega fat, which rounded his face and hips.
His cheeks were slightly tanned, his eyes were bright and alert, and his jeans, black T-shirt with a rock band's logo, and white shirt were a big change from the gray sweatshirt he wore in police photos and the one he received in Sun Hill. This was evident even from the clothes Sonny gave him. At first glance, it was clear that none of these items were from a regular store. They were expensive, but Dean wore them without pretense. It didn't seem like he had put them on just to impress Missouri.
"Hello, Dean," she said, greeting him first as he stood in front of her, offering him her hand.
She had experience with emancipated minors, so she knew that, even if their serious behavior threw them off balance—as Dean's did when he looked at her outstretched hand with a flash of uncertainty—they appreciated it. Now that young people had almost the same rights and responsibilities as adults, they wanted to be treated as such. Missouri respected that, especially with Dean. She was painfully aware that her laxity had brought Dean to this point.
"Hello, Mrs. Moseley." Dean shook her hand with a firm, almost manly grip, but not for long. "Come with me. Let's not waste any time. Sam and I have to get to school, and it's not exactly close. You've taken us by surprise with this inspection," he said as he joined the crowd waiting for the elevator.
"It will only be a short visit. I want to see how Sam has settled in with you," she remarked mildly.
The Omega didn't respond, probably because he didn't know what to say. He just shrugged slightly as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.
There was no privacy among the people, even though they all stood with their heads bowed over their cell phones, unlike the two of them.
This wasn't so strange for Missouri. She started this job at a time when people still knew how to put their cell phones away after work and pagers were still useful. However, Dean was from a generation practically born with their faces glued to touchscreens. This made it strange to see someone so young—the youngest person in the elevator—staring intently at the changing numbers on the display above the door while nervously chewing his lip.
As she watched him, one person after another left the elevator until they were alone. The last button, which appeared to be for the top floor, went dark. Only then did Dean slide the card he had been clutching through the slot and press one of the two remaining buttons, which lit up briefly.
The elevator started moving again.
"How do you like living here?" she asked.
Dean shrugged.
"It's fine," he replied neutrally, his response literally screaming aloofness and distrust.
The Omega definitely had many reasons to be distrustful. It wasn't just about his father's upbringing, either.
"It's unusual to live at the top of an office building," she said gently but firmly.
"You get used to it. It's just pretty high up..." He added incoherently.
The doors opened again, revealing a sterile white hallway with several doors. One led to the emergency staircase and the other to Novak's apartment; Dean led her to that one.
Dean swiped his card through the slot, quickly typed in the access code while shielding Missouri with his body, and finally let them in.
Missouri had been in Alpha dens before. She had been in the worst ones, which smelled of urine, alcohol, drugs, and dirt, in addition to the unwashed Alpha. She had also been in clean ones that were perfectly suitable for children. Sonny's den was like that, smelling of food and a little like a sweaty boys' locker room with undertones of hibiscus tea, Sonny's natural perfume.
This den was odorless but clearly inhabited.
On the wall opposite the door hung a picture of Jesus. There were shoes in the rack and jackets on the hangers. More precisely, there were two pairs of boys' shoes, two jackets, and one pair of polished men's leather shoes that she could almost see her reflection in.
She looked up from the shoes at Dean, who was bending over the rack. She met the dark blue eyes of Alpha Novak, which looked down at her from a neutral face. He didn't look angry or even irritated by the intrusion of a stranger into his territory. He was calm. He simply stood at the top of the stairs with his hands hanging loosely at his sides and watched as Dean took a pair of cheap white slippers out of the rack and placed them in front of Missouri.
"We change our shoes here. Everyone does."
"Sure, Dean," Missouri agreed without protest. It wasn't the first time her client had asked her to do something like this. She put her bag on the shoe rack and quickly changed from her pumps into slippers.
The Omega waited for her to pick up her bag again, then ran up the stairs to stand between the two Alphas. Sam had come out of the kitchen while Missouri was changing her shoes and stood a little way off.
Missouri followed the Omega and stopped in front of Alpha Novak. As the alpha of the family, he extended his hand for her to shake.
"Missouri Moseley. I'm from child care, and I came to see how Sam is settling in."
"Novak," the Alpha introduced himself, surprisingly not adding his subgender, and shook her hand with a firm but decent grip. "I know who you are. I remember you. You are most welcome here," he added politely.
Missouri was slightly taken aback by his approach. The Alphas she had encountered in her line of work were far less welcoming than Castiel Novak. Sometimes they were downright hostile, growling and striking poses. She sized him up with a critical eye.
He looked different than on the two occasions she had met him before. His suit was simpler. His hands and neck weren't adorned with gold. His hair was flat at the temples. He smelled of smoke and incense, which masked his scent from Missouri's Beta nose. He also had large circles under his eyes, showing fatigue. But there was something worse.
She decided to let it go for now but to keep a close eye on Alpha Novak the whole time. She turned to Sam, who was watching her warily and a little hostilely from under the veil of his long hair.
"Hi, Sam," she said, greeting him. "I guess you remember me, too. We saw each other recently."
"Of course I do," he agreed, slowly approaching her with tense shoulders, a pose typical of an Alpha protecting his territory and pack. It was a pose she would have expected more from Alpha Novak.
"You look good. How are you?" she asked with a smile, trying to break the ice and dull Sam's obvious hostility. Meanwhile, she examined him thoroughly.
He looked just as good as Dean, even though his clothes weren't as obviously designer. They must have been from his last or even original foster parents, which was not surprising. Alphas and Omegas didn't like to give up their clothes because the fabric was soaked with their own scent. This scent was calming, and most importantly, their brains could easily ignore it. Clothes that smelled new or had been washed with the wrong detergent were worse for an Alpha or Omega than a week's worth of unwashed clothes. Missouri never forgot to remind all foster parents who took in an Alpha or Omega puppy of this fact. Hygiene and tidiness were important, but neither should interfere with scent integrity. It might be difficult for Betas to find that balance, but it shouldn't be such a problem for Dean, an Omega.
"Okay." The young Alpha shrugged.
"I'm glad to hear that," she said, praising him for his blunt answer. She then turned to the completely silent Alpha Novak. "First, I'd like to look around the apartment. Then, I'd like to see Sam's room, if that's okay," she asked politely. She would never force her way into anyone's home. If Alpha Novak changed his mind and sent her away, she would respect that. However, he had already made it clear with his attitude and tone that refusal would have consequences.
"Dean will show you around," Alpha Novak said, surprising her.
"Yeah, okay, let's do this," Dean said without waiting for the Alpha to respond. He turned on his heel.
Missouri waited a moment, assuming Alpha Novak would follow Dean, but he remained standing and motioned for her to follow.
She took a few steps and stopped. At that moment, she realized how rich Alpha Novak really was.
The main room was a large loft. A balcony on the east side connected to the living area, which transitioned into the kitchen. The kitchen was connected to an open space that could fit another set of chairs and sofas, and it ended with another balcony. Her small apartment above the Ezo shop could fit in there maybe three times. She had never been in such a large private residence. Her clients were usually boys like Dean and Sam who came from poor, often morally questionable families and lived in neighborhoods where poverty was palpable. Missouri wouldn't change that. She admitted that she had no patience for rich kids from Manhattan who thought parental love could be replaced by an expensive European nanny.
Dean took her to the kitchen first, and just like in their previous apartment, he showed her the refrigerator overflowing with fresh food. He did so with a pride that Missouri was happy to see because it meant he was embracing his Omega side. Then he took her to the living room, where she checked the balcony and, most importantly, the doors, which lacked childproof locks. She mentioned it, of course, because it was her duty. Sam responded with a snort, saying that he was thirteen. Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically but promised to fix it by next time.
Next was a huge, empty room with an unsecured door leading to the balcony. The Omega awkwardly explained that he hadn't had time to decide what to put in the room yet. She assured him it was okay, though she would have noted it as a small black mark with anyone else. With Dean, however, she decided to be lenient, partly out of guilt and partly because she knew his story. His father's car was the closest thing to a nest he had, and it was a small space with limited possibilities. The traveling itself had made Dean an uprooted Omega, so he needed time for his instincts to return to normal. Such a large room must have been a big challenge for him.
Then there was the study, which Dean didn't open for her. Alpha Novak, who had been silent until now, just like Sam, followed their every step. He simply opened the sliding door, stepped back, and casually gestured her into the study.
While the apartment didn't smell like an Alpha's lair to her Beta senses, the study definitely did. The room was permeated with the smell of something baked with cherries and cigarettes. From what she had seen in the apartment so far, it seemed to be the most inhabited place. This was Alpha Novak's exclusive place, which he surprisingly let her into.
She looked around more closely than when she entered and, despite the rules, stood just two steps from the door. She should have thoroughly inspected the room, but she decided to show Alpha Novak some respect. He deserved it, as it seemed she had wronged him all along.
When he took Dean into custody, she was sure she would never hear from the poor boy again. If she did, it would be bad news. She was surprised when Dean's petition for emancipation came to court and when Alpha Novak helped him gain custody of Sam and spoke in court.
And now, he was standing there, surprising her again by holding back his Alpha tendencies and allowing her into his personal space.
Maybe he wasn't as bad as she had feared. And maybe—just maybe—there was some truth to Dean's claim that they were kindred spirits. That wouldn't excuse someone as old as Novak having a relationship with someone as young as Dean, but she had seen many times in her career that real relationships were much more complicated than the laws and manuals made them out to be.
She turned to Novak.
"You spend a lot of time here, don't you?"
"Yes," the Alpha replied, reaching into his pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes, and putting one between his teeth. "This is my office. I have two thriving businesses, and that involves a lot of paperwork."
"I know. Blue Sky and Garden. Neither of them belongs to you anymore. You transferred both to Dean as part of your Future Mating Agreement."
"Yes, they belong to Dean now, but I'm still the administrator of his estate, and I run both businesses," he replied, clicking his lighter.
"You shouldn't smoke when Sam and Dean are here," she said. The Alpha paused mid-motion and looked at her over the flame with his sharp Alpha gaze. It was real, and it froze her in place for a few moments. Her instincts as a beta weren't as strong, but she could feel it. She felt the words about passive smoking freeze on her tongue. Suddenly, she felt like a mouse that had looked a cobra in the eye.
It took a few seconds before the Alpha broke the tension by closing the lighter.
Missouri exhaled sharply.
"I didn't think of that. I'll be careful next time. Thank you for pointing that out, Mrs. Moseley," he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Shall we continue?" he asked as politely and coldly as before.
It took some effort for her to tear her gaze away from the Alpha. Then, she quickly looked at Dean to see what he thought of Novak's behavior. Surprisingly, he didn't seem intimidated by his sharp voice. He didn't lower his gaze or hunch his shoulders, as most Omegas probably would in this situation. In fact, he leaned against the door with his arms folded across his chest.
"Of course," she agreed, letting Dean lead the way again.
The Omega immediately headed from the study to the door closest to the entrance.
"This is Sammy's room. We haven't had time to furnish it properly yet. I want him to choose what he wants for it himself. Right, buddy?" Dean said to his brother, pulling him close and putting his arm around his shoulders.
The young Alpha hunched over under the weight of his brother's arm. He was already as tall as Dean and looked at Missouri with a gaze that attempted to show his dominance.
Cold and aloof. But after Novak had snapped at her like that, Sam's attempt seemed more like puppy play.
"I think it's fine the way it is," Sam replied.
"I'll definitely take a look at your room. I'd love to, sweetheart, but first..." She turned to the last door. "What's in there?"
It was a pointless question. She knew it was the bedroom Dean shared with Alpha Novak. That was precisely why she wanted to look in there. Since they had a Future Mating Agreement and Dean was emancipated, she had no legal reason to object to a shared bedroom. Still, she could insist on looking inside to see how Dean lived. And where he slept.
"Our bedroom," Dean replied after a slight hesitation, which Missouri noticed, of course. She also noticed that he didn't say "Alpha's bedroom," but rather "our."
"Can I take a look?" she asked, taking a step toward the door.
Alpha Novak moved so quickly that it was almost as if he suddenly appeared before her, tall and imposing, head held high, shoulders stiff. A warning growl escaped his puffed-out chest.
"No!" he said through bared teeth, his rough accent further emphasizing the force of the prohibition.
She was glad she had taken the conflict management seminar with Alpha and Omega subgenders for only the third time in her career. It was probably the only thing that prevented her from backing away from Alpha Novak. Instead, she managed to maintain her position and composure. At least outwardly. She was certain the fear trembling through her must have been evident in her scent because the Alpha's nostrils flared, producing a loud sniffing sound.
She licked her lips and slowly moved her hand to the purse she had held the entire time. It contained a stun gun set to Alpha. For some reason, she wanted to use it even though Novak was no longer growling. His eyes had remained blue the whole time, and although he had bared his teeth at her, only the gold one was full Alpha size. The other remained harmlessly tucked into his gum.
The Alpha just stared at her coldly. She returned his gaze when Dean suddenly appeared between them.
She wanted to tell him to get out of the way, but then she noticed the Omega had pressed his back against the Alpha. The Alpha responded by tilting his head toward Dean's scent gland and inhaling. With each breath, which Missouri watched with tension, the Alpha became more calm until, finally, all of the threatening tension subsided.
"I think she could take a look from the door, like at your office. What do you think, Castiel?" Dean turned to the Alpha.
"Your nest is there," Alpha Novak let the words trail off, but they were full of importance.
Only then did Missouri began to understand what this was all about. For a moment, she thought Novak wanted to hide something she wouldn't like, but he was just protecting Dean's nest. None of the Alphas whose lairs she had entered had liked it, but none had reacted so violently. She was more accustomed to such anger from young Alphas around Sam's age who didn't want to reveal their territory through their rooms. For an adult man, this behavior was strange—at least for an American.
"You're from Europe, aren't you, Alpha Novak?" she said, breaking the tense silence.
"Yes," he replied sharply, his cold gaze underscoring the unfriendliness of his response. "I'm sure you've seen a copy of our Future Mating Agreement, so you know I'm from Russia."
"Of course. I've read it," she nodded, taking a step back and raising her hand, palm up, in a gesture of appeasement. "I think there may be some cultural misunderstanding here," she said, choosing her words carefully. She knew about regimes in other countries and wouldn't be surprised if the Alpha's homeland didn't respect nesting Omegas, their nests, and the Alphas who protect them. That would explain Novak's overreaction. "I understand that you are protecting the nest of your Omega mate, and I don't want to interfere with that. But I need to check the entire apartment to see if it is suitable for Sam—and Dean, of course. Would you allow me to look into your bedroom from the doorway, as Dean suggested?"
The Alpha tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, making him look like a giant bird. A crumpled, bedraggled bird with the sharp gaze of a predator. He sized her up at length.
"All right. If Dean agrees," Novak finally consented. But this time, he did not move to let her pass.
Dean stepped aside, silently indicating that she could go with him.
She walked around the Alpha, who had been watching her the whole time. He slowly turned without moving from his spot. She went with Dean to the door of the bedroom he shared with Novak.
The sliding doors slid into the wall. Dean stepped over the threshold and turned on the lights, illuminating the entire bedroom.
To the right were large windows with doors leading to a balcony. To the left were two doors, likely leading to the bathroom and dressing room. In the middle of the room was a large, luxurious four-poster bed generously covered with a disorderly pile of pillows. While it didn't look like something out of an Omega psychology textbook, the sight of it still brought a smile to Missouri's face. It was a big improvement over Dean's room in Sonny's apartment and the room Alpha Novak had arranged for him and Sam in the original apartment.
"It looks fine here," she said to Dean with a smile. "A very nice nest, dear."
Dean blinked in confusion.
"Um, thank you," he said uncertainly, looking back at Alpha Novak. However, Alpha did not return his gaze, only watching Missouri with the same intense, cold, almost hostile look.
She decided that she had tested the Alpha's patience and instincts enough for the day. Her job was to ensure the children's comfort and the proper functioning of their household, not to cause discord. She was always a disruptive element, she realized.
"How about showing me your room now, Sam?" she asked the young Alpha.
"Sure." He shrugged and, without hesitating, went to open the door to his room.
As before, Missouri paused in the doorway and looked around the modestly furnished room, which contained only a bed, nightstands, and a desk with a computer.
"May I come in?"
The young Alpha shrugged.
It wasn't exactly an invitation, so she entered slowly, giving Sam time to process that she had entered his territory. After a moment, the Alpha finally followed her and watched her intently as she went into the bathroom.
The light turned on automatically and illuminated a large, modern bathroom with a shower and bathtub. However, it was as impersonal as a hotel bathroom, except for a plastic cup with a Batman-printed toothbrush.
She also looked into the adjoining dressing room. It was nearly empty except for a few T-shirts and shirts on hangers, a few pairs of jeans and canvas pants on a shelf, and a pair of warmer sneakers in the shoe rack.
Overall, the room didn't look ideal for a child. She would have criticized anyone else, but knowing what she knew about Dean and Sam's lives and feeling guilty about Dean's suffering, she was determined to be lenient with them. For now, she would overlook the minor flaws, such as the lack of childproofing and toys, and try not to think about Novak. That was the hardest part. A boy like Dean shouldn't have to live with someone twice his age. But at least it looked like Dean and Sam were getting material support, and Dean was getting peace and quiet to settle down.
She came out of the dressing room and almost bumped into Sam, who had crept up behind her. He was now watching her from under his furrowed brow. She looked over his shoulder and saw that he had closed the door behind them.
"I know what you're thinking and what you're going to write in your report," he said, taking a step forward and raising his head. "You're going to say that my room isn't properly furnished and that it's not a safe environment for a child my age. You're going to say that Dean has to fix everything before your next visit or else you'll recommend that they take me away from him."
"That's not entirely true," she said, dismissing his obvious concerns. "I would never recommend taking you away from your brother again. How about we go next door and talk there?" she suggested gently, gesturing toward the door.
Sam watched her for a moment from under his furrowed brow before nodding slightly and heading for the door.
They went outside, where Dean was waiting for them. He looked tense, and Alpha Novak stood behind him. He wore his usual neutral, almost indifferent expression and had his arm possessively and protectively wrapped around the Omega's shoulder.
"That's all for today," she said to Dean's slight relief, evident in his sharp exhale. "I'm happy with most things here. You should just ensure greater safety, such as installing safety locks on the balcony door and outlets. Sam should also get his room in order. These are minor details that you can easily fix."
Missouri finished speaking, and then there was silence.
"And that's all?" Dean finally broke the silence cautiously.
"Yes," she nodded, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "I won't write any of this in the report for now. I'm sure you'll fix it before my next visit."
"Yeah, sure. I'll fix it," the Omega quickly agreed.
"Then I have no reason to keep you any longer." She glanced quickly at her watch. "School will be starting soon. You'll probably have to take me downstairs, won't you?"
"Yeah, I have to."
Dean looked a little confused, probably because it had been so easy, so she smiled at him. That little bit was enough to make him smile back cheerfully. Suddenly full of energy, he ran down to the door. Missouri said goodbye to both Alphas. First, she said goodbye to Alpha Novak, who was less hostile than at the beginning of her visit but still offered her his hand to shake. Sam didn't even bother; he ostentatiously shoved his hands in his pockets instead. From the start, it was clear that he would be a tougher nut to crack than Dean. After all, he saw her as the one who took his Omega parents and family. She understood his aversion to her. Like Alpha Novak, he followed her to the door, and they said a brief goodbye on the threshold.
Dean closed and locked the door behind them with his card. He also used his card to operate the elevator.
They rode in silence as others joined them. When they passed the reception desk together, Dean blocked her path. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again and frowned.
Missouri looked at him quizzically. She was pretty sure she knew what he wanted to say.
"Is it about Alpha Novak’s behavior?" she asked.
Dean's eyes widened in surprise.
"Yeah! How the hell—! I mean, excuse me...how do you know?"
"You wouldn’t be the first Omega to want to apologize to me for his Alpha’s behavior."
"Yeah, that's exactly what I wanted to say. Actually, I wanted to say..." He made an indefinite gesture with his hand. "Cas... Castiel can bark and growl quite a bit. He's kind of a grouch, you know? But that's all. Sam and I both get along well with him. You saw that yourself, right?"
"Yes," she agreed. "I saw an Alpha who really cares about his Omega and wants to settle down. I also realized that I judged Alpha Novak too harshly at first. However, that doesn't change the fact that he's too old for you."
"I already told you that's not true!" Dean declared sharply, with the combativeness of any Omega protecting his family. "My age is more of an obstacle for him than anything else. He's already had so many problems with it that I can't even count them. I don't want you to cause him any more."
"I have no intention of doing that, sweetheart," she quickly assured him. "Besides, I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to. You're an adult and responsible for yourself. You signed a Future Mating Contract with Alpha Novak."
"You can take Sam away from me again," he interrupted her.
"I wouldn't separate you again," she said, but despite her words, Dean's face showed distrust.
Missouri sighed and smiled wearily as she placed her hand on Dean's upper arm. "I know you don't believe it, but I'm on your side. I may not like Alpha Novak, but as long as he treats you well and helps you care for Sam, I will support you."
Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously. It was a good sign, though, that he allowed her to touch him.
"Really?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes, this time, yes," she said, sliding her hand off his shoulder. "I won't let the system grind you and Sam down again."
The Omega said nothing in response to her confession but looked at her for a long time before finally stepping aside so she could leave.
"See you at the next meeting, Mrs. Moseley. It would just be nice if you let us know in advance. Take care," he said, and without waiting for a response, he walked around her and headed for the elevators.
Missouri watched him until he disappeared into the now half-empty elevator. Then she stepped out into the morning chill. She had twelve more checks scheduled for that day and had to hurry.
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