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The call dragged him out of pleasant dreams right at dawn on Sunday morning, the ringtone particularly abrasive and loud to ensure it would get him into a questionably awake state as quickly as possible. The person calling was an early morning jogger who was convinced they had found a mountain lion beside one of the trails in Central Park and that it had been shot. Dean took down the specifics and exact location before he drove the short distance to the closest park entrance from his house. He covered the last little bit on foot with a cart, large cat carrier and blankets, tranq dart and his vet kit.
The runner apologized for mis-identifying the cat. Dean felt a little bad about the glare he had given the young 20 something woman over it but it was too damn early to be polite, he’d feel bad about it later though.
“Look I can take it from here, if you’d like updates, please give me a call or text me in a couple of hours, I appreciate you calling this in, enjoy the rest of your run.” He steadfastly ignored the flirty eyes she was giving him.
Once the woman was out of sight, he squatted down beside the male bobcat that was lying on its side, breathing pattern shallow and little heart pumping a mile a minute with a bullet wound sluggishly bleeding in its hind flank.
“Okay buddy, I need you to calm down and I know how hard that is around a human but I promise I won’t hurt you, I’m here to help.”
The bobcat strained to lift its head, tufty ears folded back in suspicion and Dean didn’t blame it or he should say him, which he swiftly ascertained, while he checked the furry guy for other injuries with protective gloves in place. Dean really didn’t blame the animal for being distrustful of him, a human, given that he’d been shot by one.
He considered trying to remove the bullet right there but was concerned that it would run away from him while he had the wound open wide. The entry-wound was small, probably a .22 bullet.
“Alright my little friend, I’m going to sedate you, get you to go to sleep, bring you to my clinic, safely and cleanly remove that bullet and suture you up. You’ll feel better in no time.”
The bobcat went absolutely ballistic and while Dean hated doing so, he scruffed the poor thing who was doing more harm to himself than anything else. It was a move he’d normally never employ on a wild cat but these were extenuating circumstances.
He swiftly pulled a one-time use pre-loaded tranquilizer syringe from his vet pack and while talking soothingly to the cat which had not gone entirely still in his hand, injected the sedative and watched with no pleasure as his movements went sluggish and stopped altogether after a short while.
The bullet was not in a life-threatening area which was good and clearly hadn’t nipped any major arteries but it was deeply embedded in the muscle tissue which would lead to lameness in the affected leg which in turn would be a death sentence for a wild cat such as this.
***
Extracting the bullet went better than anticipated and Dean found a yowling bobcat in the kennel area of the clinic the following morning.
“Good morning to you, too handsome, I see you’re feeling better.”
The bobcat hissed at him and bared his teeth, folding its admittedly very cute ears back, unmistakably telling Dean just what he thought of how good a morning it was. He noticed absently how the fur pattern on the bobcat’s chest looked different than the usually slightly diluted beige into off-white fur color with dark spots. Instead this one had an almost triangular unbroken shape of black adorning its chest, almost like a crest.
“Alright big day for you today little buddy, if you can walk normally and have feeling in your rear left leg and paw you get to go back home.”
The growl and chirp he gave Dean were the cutest thing he heard out of his latest patient yet as he watched the kitty settle down, paws beneath his head regarding him almost beseechingly. He could read the animal like an open book though, years of experience and study of animal behavior in the field taught him to know the difference between a truly relaxed animal and one pretending to be relaxed and ready to pounce. This one was a good pretender and most certainly the latter.
He opted for the largest carrier that would normally be reserved for cougars or mountain lions and locked it onto the sliding door of the cage so that the bobcat had no choice but to walk out and right into it. He only connected two of the clips but didn’t anticipate just how viciously in disagreement the cat was with his plans for him.
He watched in surprise as the bobcat swiped at the top bracket that was connected and disengaged it within seconds and pushed the entire carrier physically out of the way before pouncing on Dean with a feral roar digging it’s clawed front paws into Dean’s chest, dragging ribbons into the mint-green scrub top he wore. Dean went down on his back when the momentum-driven impact of 35 lbs. of freaked-out feline hit him full force.
Dean yelped out in pain as the claws sunk in deep and protectively brought his arms up to avoid further scratches but he needn’t have worried as the bobcat raced out of the room, slight limp in the hind leg and disappeared from sight.
He called his friend Jimmy Novak over for help, knew he needed to have the scratches looked at and despite being a vet himself he wasn’t sure if his tetanus shot was in any way up to date enough. Jimmy showed up about ten minutes later and cleansed the wounds and stitched them up for Dean.
For the second day in a row Dean started his day without coffee and he decided that he was in dire need of some of the black goodness hours ago. The local freezing was slowly starting to dissipate, as administered by Jimmy before he stitched him up and gave him a tetanus shot. Having a family doctor as your neighbor who also had been a close friend since university really was a friend with benefits, except that the benefits were entirely non-sexual in nature. Jimmy warned him that if the edges of the wounds in any way turned red, he needed to go to the ER. Dean promised he’d take good care of himself.
He slowly put on a clean set of scrubs, forest green for a change. Every movement of his arms pulled at the wounds on his chest and he gingerly settled the fabric over top of the expansive bandages there. Fact was, he had other patients, of the four-legged variety, on the books today that needed treatment but Charlie promised to be in around 2pm.
Changing his pants was an even more painful undertaking but after much struggle he had managed and just re-tied his sneakers so he could walk the short distance to the coffee shop a few storefronts down.
He pushed the door open and the resistance of the door against his hand sent a shock through his body that he’d normally never notice but today it made him wince, hand hovering just a smidge of an inch from his chest before he stopped himself.
“Good morning, Dean, whoa buddy you, okay?” Gabe jogged around the counter in no time at all and regarded Dean with curious eyes. “You need to have a seat, what’s going on?”
“Angry cat Gabe, a wildcat came in over the weekend, decided to use my chest as a scratching post.”
Dean watched as Gabriel’s eyes roamed across his chest, knowing that the white tape and gauze was partially visible in the V-neck of his scrub top.
“Tough work man, you sure you should be working like this?”
“Na but animals to save, Charlie’s coming in as soon as she can I’ll rest then.”
“Your usual?”
“Yeah thanks,” Dean watched as Gabe walked back behind the counter and sidled up next to a tall lanky guy who he had never seen before. The kid was a foot and a half taller than Gabriel with a head of straight thick brown hair that half-way covered his ears and was trimmed neat and short in back exposing a long slender neck above the coffee shop branded shirt he wore and the band of the apron all baristas wore. He was broad-shouldered and his torso tapered into a narrow waist and a delectable peachy ass at which point Dean had to stop his observation because he couldn’t even tell if the guy was a minor or not and while he was by no means old at 35 he still felt like a cougar checking out a teenager at that moment.
All pretense of not checking the guy out however fell by the wayside when he turned around with Dean’s drink in hand, wide, dimpled and bright smile as he called out Dean’s name in a smooth baritone voice, definitely not underage.
“That’s mine,” Dean answered easily, putting his hand in the air like a school kid in class as he slid from the barstool with a wince, he couldn’t quite hide, and lumbered over to the kid whose smile had faltered a little and turned into an adorable blush.
“Thank you … er…. Sam, it’s nice to meet you. I haven’t seen you here before. Did you just start working here?”
“Yeah… uh… transferred in from a different university to NYU to finish my law degree, uncle Gabe offered me a job. My name’s Sam Campbell.”
“Pleased to meet you I’m Dean Winchester, I run and own the vet clinic down the street. I’ll see you around, kid.”
See you around kid, what the fuck was wrong with him, the guy was obviously not a kid and all Dean did was ruin a perfectly open conversation with so much potential. Who called a 6’4” guy a kid, well apparently him, serially-single since the split from Lisa two years ago when he finally figured out that Ben wasn’t actually his kid and baby daddy re-entered the picture.
Despite that first epic fail of a chat, Dean ran into Sam nearly every day he went to Gabe’s in the weeks that followed and over time they got to talking more and more. He figured out that he very much enjoyed Sam’s presence and loved that he knew exactly what he wanted to do and was pleased to learn that money, mergers and acquisitions despite his choice of major was not his aspiration. The kid wanted to help people and yes Dean kept calling him that in the privacy of his own mind while slowly and rather intensely falling head over heels in love with the guy.
It was a solid month before Dean finally got over himself and asked him out on a date; an afternoon at the nearby park with a picnic. Needless to say, Gabe was the one who provided Dean with the contents of the picnic basket because Dean, while he could cook a mean burger with fries, was not the healthy, balanced food kind of guy that he learned Sam was. In fact, if anything Sam’s eating habits had colored off on him a bit and he didn’t mind, much less heartburn that way he noticed.
The day was piping hot and they strolled around the park for a short while before settling in on a picnic blanket in the shade of one of the large maple trees not far from the spray park. If this had been a weekend day the spray park would have been bustling with kids and parents but on a Tuesday afternoon it was blessedly quiet.
“I’m melting, do you think it would be indecent exposure if I ran through the spray park without my shirt on?” Dean asked only half-jokingly, truly wanting Sam’s opinion on it because it kinda felt creepy on account of them just being two random guys that happened to be near the spray park.
“Legally nope, will we get the stink eye from that single mom over there, probably. Let’s do it, I feel like I’m about to liquefy despite being in the shade.”
The city was like a hell-fueled pressure cooker in summer, temperatures would soar for a week at a time to the mid-90s or low-100s. Those that could afford it left down for more coastal towns for the summer and those that could not, did whatever was needed to stay cool. Much to Dean’s visual enjoyment staying cool right now meant that he and Sam frolicked through the spray park playfully chasing each other through the cool water before Sam clamped his arms around Dean’s torso and arms to keep him in place while the dump bucket was about to pour a huge amount of cold water on them both.
The little kiddo who was there with his mom actually started playing catch with them and before long the mom had joined in too, 4 city dwellers, complete strangers, giggling and laughing and being mock tackled by a five-year-old boy.
“You guys make a really cute couple,” proclaimed their new friend Jody. She was indeed a single mom and had her son Owen with her.
Dean couldn’t help flushing bright red at her statement, they hadn’t labeled what this was at all between them, sure he’d love to call Sam his boyfriend and much more than that but after just one official date that was highly presumptuous.
“Well, this is actually our first official real date after a month of near daily coffee shop chit-chat. I definitely want to go on more if you’re up for it Dean.” Sam looked at him smiling, at ease and comfortable where he sat cross-legged while Owen puttered away making up a story of epic proportions with the flowers and his toy soldiers in the patch of lawn they’d relocated to after spray-park time.
Dean happily agreed, he wanted to see Sam every day, wanted to make him smile so those dimples would cut deep in his cheeks and wanted to see him succeed in his studies and career. He knew he was falling too fast, too quickly but he’d always been like this all-in hook, line and sinker; it was how he was wired.
Jody was a police officer with the NYPD and by the time they all went their separate ways they each had a new phone number in their phones. It wasn’t easy to make friends in a city like New York and when you met someone who you genuinely clicked with, you held onto them with both hands. There was no romantic interest here but there was a commonality between the three of them as they’d all moved away from home and made their way to NY for different reasons to build a new life and a new circle of friends to go along with it.
Many more summer dates followed, romantic cruise out to the Statue of Liberty at sunset where they kissed for the first time, a visit to the thoroughly air-conditioned USS Intrepid an afternoon activity together with Jody and Owen and Sam on the weekend, a rooftop take-out dinner while watching the July 4th fireworks from the apartment building Sam lived in, dog walking on many an afternoon when Dean came to know that Sam loved all animals though dogs were not too fond of him but he didn’t give up and eventually won them over soothing and cooing at them.
Sam was entering his last year of studies in fall and excused himself from hanging out with Dean as much, so he could do pre-reading for his upcoming classes. Dean insisted on being allowed to bring him food at least, which Sam gladly accepted because he had a way of forgetting to eat when he single-mindedly focused on his studies like this. They worked out a pattern that worked for them both. While Dean needed time for his vet clinic emergencies at times, Sam had his studies that sometimes rightfully took priority over hanging out.
Dean had just picked up the order of food he’d placed with Gabe chicken Caesar salad for Sam with a freshly squeezed orange juice and a panini sandwich for himself with a side house salad. As he walked past the alleyway beside the happy and inviting storefront of Gabe’s business, he picked up movement out of the corner of his eye and a yowling, undulating sound like a very very angry cat. He could see three figures at the dead-end of the alleyway holding stuff up and closing in on something, he jogged down towards them and realized with no small amount of surprise that the three lanky teenagers were cornering a bobcat which was filthy, its fur wet no doubt from the questionable murky permanent puddle underneath the dumpster from the Chinese hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Up-close Jensen noticed the three gangly kids were equipped with a baseball bat, net and far too small domestic cat carrier in hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Mind your business grandpa.”
He got a better look at the animal that the three young men were focused on and would recognize the unique fur pattern on the bobcat’s chest anywhere. No matter how filthy he looked right.
“This grandpa here is about to bust your asses, what was it Colby, Kyle and Francis? I’m pretty sure I got your mamas’ phone numbers in my contacts still from junior league baseball, remember me coach Winchester? So unless you want them to hear about what very much looks like attempted animal abuse I suggest you drop everything and walk away.”
Dean secretly hoped they’d make a stand, but also was mildly concerned at how unevenly matched the fight would be. Dean watched the three of them, and could easily pick out the leader of the trio as the other two deferred to him for the final decision of how to proceed. One after the other after a cool nod from Colby they handed over the net, carrier and baseball bat.
“Good choice and you can pick your bat back up on Saturday. I still coach the fun-league.” Dean used to coach junior league but now was the head coach of a for-fun neighborhood baseball league; a mix of getting teenagers off the street doing dumb stuff and teaching them the joy of athletics simultaneously.
The bobcat gazed up at him, his triangular tufted ears facing towards him with an almost intelligent attentiveness.
“Hey little guy, we keep running into each other huh, how did you end up downtown like this? I would love to give you a bath but I don’t think you’d appreciate that, would you?” He watched as the grimy kitty walked right up to him, bumped his head against his leg and slithered in between them for good measure as if to say thank you. Dean leaned down to try and pet him and for a few gentle brushes the adorable wildcat let it happen, his fur was very soft beneath all the debris but he only allowed it for so long before taking playful claws-in swat at the back of Dean’s hand. “Hey, what was that for?” The bobcat didn’t seem to pay attention to him though and raced off down the sidewalk before disappearing into the nearby city park.
“You’re welcome!!” Dean grumbled under his breath. As if the universe had it out for him at that moment the on-call phone went off shortly thereafter with a report about a mountain lion going after a squirrel. Dean figured he knew exactly what was happening.
Sure enough the reported incident was happening in the park he was next to and he easily jogged to the indicated location. The terrified squirrel was trying hard to stay out of reach of the still bedraggled bobcat. Dean didn’t really want to catch or have to do veterinary first aid on either one so he rushed the bobcat and roared at it. The sound he released was almost feral, his voice vibrating from deep in his diaphragm unlike any sound he’d ever made before and when the bobcat spotted him, it went stock still before running off into a big swathe of blackberry bushes that no doubt would scratch it up. Dean was pursuing the wild cat now; he couldn't leave an injured animal alone after all.
“Stop running now!!!” Dean didn’t know why he even tried, it’s not like cats domesticated or not would ever listen to a human command but to his utter shock he saw the dotted lump of fur that was only just visible through the prickly brambles come to halt. “No go out the other side and then please just hold still so I can treat your wounds, come on little guy I’m not the enemy here.”
Dean rounded the large overgrown bush and found himself facing the now shivering and unmoving bobcat, the space he cowered in was barely wide enough for a human to walk through tucked in-between berry bushes and the concrete perimeter wall of the park.
“Hey calm down, relax, show me where it hurts, come one little kitty show me,” he lowered his tone and squat-walked to make himself less imposing to the feline that looked up at him with scared eyes and made eye contact like a human would.
“Please turn for me?” Dean prompted and while he simply wanted to see the other side of the animal's body, what happened next threatened to blow his mind. The bobcat yowled pitifully and the air around him started shimmering, like the blur that happened mid-air above asphalt when it was a really hot day. Dean jumped back a few feet as the fur retracted and gave way to tan skin that was dirty and scratched up. After a few seconds, lying curled up at Dean’s feet, was a very naked and very scared looking Sam.
“Sam, what the? Are you okay? Sit up, come on, here I have an emergency blanket, let me look at you.” Sam acted strangely and didn’t answer Dean verbally but actually laid out on his belly in front of him. “Please Sam, what is going on? I need you to act normal, transform back if you want to, please stop doing literally everything I say.”
“You’re an Alpha feline Dean. I can't help it when you use a certain tone of voice, my inner bobcat follows.”
“What are you talking about? I’m human! Also since when are people able to transform into bobcats?”
The bitchface Sam gifted him after would have made him snort out laughing if the situation at hand didn’t hurt his brain as much as it did; the only logical conclusion here was that Sam and the bobcat he'd saved nearly two months ago were in fact one and the same person? Animal? He didn’t even know and for some reason Dean had some kind of magical influence on Sam that made him do whatever he told him to?
“Okay, here you go,” Dean covered Sam up wanting him to be comfortable. “Okay one more time like I’m five years old. What are you? Why were you doing everything I asked? What’s an Alpha feline?”
Sam settled in drawing the silvery blanket around his shoulders and into his lap while he sat cross-legged on the grassy ground.
“One: I’m an animal-shifter, my spirit animal is a bobcat so that’s the shape I take when I turn, generally I can control it but something about being close to you is wreaking havoc with that. Two: Animal-shifters have secondary genders; alpha, beta or omega in designation. I’m an omega. Three: You are an animal-shifter, that day at your clinic when I scratched you, is likely when that happened and for that I’m sorry. I should have said something but you were bandaged up for days after it happened and I was certain that it didn’t take. It doesn’t mean you’ll be a bobcat like me though, each person has a different animal form when turned. Lastly you must be an Alpha because my omega couldn’t resist your commands.”
Dean’s head was positively spinning and he had more questions than answers by the time Sam finished answering him. He could feel his gaze on him, expectant, vulnerable and encouraging.
“Have you noticed your sense of smell getting better? Do you see better in the dark? Have an aversion to coffee and chocolate? Anything ring a bell?”
Dean pondered the questions for a moment and he only drank coffee on days he knew Jared was at Gabe’s, hadn’t stubbed his toe in weeks on his chest of drawers at night and the idea of chocolate made him feel nauseous.
“Yeah… yeah actually some of that sounds familiar. What about the Alpha, omega stuff?”
“They are a secondary designation that each animal-shifter has, they are biological and translate to certain personality traits. Alphas are territorial, protective, insanely strong and good in physical combat and altercations, they are the leaders and sentinels of their pack or pride depending on the animal form of the shifter. Betas are essentially like humans, not particularly guided by their designation and fairly level-headed overall. Lastly and rarest are omegas.”
“That’s your designation, right?”
“Uhu… we are the caregivers, maternal protectors of the family unit, we help others, we watch the cubs and tend to be mated off to Alphas wherever possible to help us with our biological needs.”
The way Sam explained omegas seemed like it was something that he felt disgusted with and Dean needed to know more to understand, “You don’t seem to be thrilled to be an omega by the volumes your face speaks as you explain it.”
“It’s frustrating, I dislike being a slave to my own biology and the only way I can be sure, be safe from unwanted Alphas is to live here in the city and hopefully mate with an Alpha that will give me the freedoms I need and want to pursue my career and the kind of life I want. Male omegas make up less than 3% of the entire animal-shifter population. We are treated like some special trophy owned by the pride at best, at worst bred during every heat cycle by all the Alphas in the pack to sustain the pack-lineage.”
Dean’s jaw dropped at that last statement in utter shock and disgust. “What are you saying exactly Sam?”
“I can get pregnant, carry a human baby or a litter of bobcat kits that will ultimately shift at 1 year of age.”
Dean let himself drop to the floor, landing inelegantly on his rear, his mind struggling hard to onboard all that Sam explained to him. He felt dizzy, his breath coming too fast, his heartbeat rushed, all of this was too surreal yet obviously truthful and when he focused inward enough, he could feel it, could feel that secondary presence in him. It seemed feral and unknown and scared him, he never wanted to lose control.
“Dean… hey look at me… you will be okay; we will be okay. I realize this must feel like you’ve gone insane, I never wanted this for you, I’m really sorry Dean.”
Epilogue: 2 Months Later
Sam was waiting on the rooftop terrace of his apartment building, it had been a tough two months of learning for both of them. Sam needed to learn to believe and trust in Dean that he would never oppress or treat him like other Alphas would treat a male omega in his pride. On the flip-side Dean himself needed to learn what an omega needed, how to help Sam thrive and how to come to terms with being able to shift into an animal form.
Sam’s best and only friend Kevin from his pride helped Dean a great deal whenever he had questions that Sam couldn’t answer, and it made all the difference. Dean had struggled to turn into his animal form, both Sam and Kevin figured it was a matter of mental conviction and the fear that Dean still felt churning away. Dean apologized each time he failed, because he knew that this was second nature to Sam.
However, tonight Dean promised Sam he had something to show him and told him to bring some grub that they’d both like. Needless to say, Sam had bags from Gabe’s coffee shop in hand.
Sam heard the door open and close that led into the staircase of the building and seconds later after a rustle of fabric, the most magnificent of mountain lions pawed gingerly around the side of the building ducts that ran like a labyrinth across the flat roof top. Dean was majestic, gigantic even for that breed of cat as he slowly meandered over to where Sam was sitting in human form. Dean nuzzled into Sam’s stomach, felt warm hands curl into his fur before he perused Sam’s knees so stand himself up on hind legs and licked down the side of Sam’s face the most cat-like kiss he could think of while Sam burst out laughing.
“Bad Alpha kitty, come here let me see you. Dean did a little spin for Sam, elated that he had finally found himself in his shifter-side sufficiently to be able to meet Sam in his feline form. Yes, there were a ton of details about their lives to figure out but at that moment Dean simply felt content, safe and at ease with exactly who he had become during these past three months; in love with and loved in return by the most amazing man and bobcat there ever was.
