Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12757365.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester, Jessica_Moore, Bobby
      Singer
  Additional Tags:
      Canon_Compliant, sorta_-_Freeform, Weecest, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics,
      Alpha/Omega, Alpha_Dean, Omega_Sam, Scenting, Pheromones, Mating, Hurt/
      Comfort, Fluff, Angst, flangst, Emotional_Hurt/Comfort, Wee!chesters,
      Smangst, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Sam_in_Heat, Loss_of_smell, Rimming, Oral
      Sex, Anal_Sex, Rough_Sex, Smut, So_much_angst
  Collections:
      SPN_ABO_Bingo
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-18 Completed: 2018-02-18 Chapters: 11/11 Words: 19573
****** Like home ******
by Waywardkitten
Summary
     Dean suffers injury in the fire that affect his ability to perform in
     certain aspects of life which leads to a whole lot of problems.
     Set between the fire and the beginning of season 4
Notes
     This is my baby. This is something I have worked on for a long time
     and I have been scared of writing on it because i'm terrified of
     fucking it up. So please please if you enjoy it please leave kudos
     and a comment.
     I love this idea that I got for this fic and I hope you'll love it
     too. If I have forgotten to tag a trigger please let me now asap and
     I will fix it.
     Find me on tumblr
     ♡
     Also this has no square filled for the ABO Bingo because it's a short
     prologue. Squares filled will come with the chapters
***** Prologue *****
Chapter Notes
     Come find me on tumblr
***** November 3d 1983
 Sam: 6 months
Dean: 4 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *****
“The carbon dioxide did what to him?!”

Dean swung his legs mindlessly under the chair, gazing out the window
overlooking the hospital parking lot as his father, with Sammy gurgling away on
his arm, argued with the doctor. Dean’s eyes watered as he tried his hardest
not to blink; every time he did red hot flames licked the inside of his
eyelids. If he kept them closed for longer than that the air would start to get
thicker until his tongue would go dry from the taste of ash, and smoke would
fill his lungs, making his throat burn.
He opened his eyes on a gasp. His dad was on him in an instant, crouching on
the floor in front of him with Sam on his shoulder still cooing like the
happiest baby in the world.
“Dean? You okay?”
Dean swallowed thickly, trying to stop the wobbling of his lower lip and the
tears that spilled down his red cheeks.
“I’m okay, dad. ‘m sorry”
The look his dad gave him was full of hurt, sympathy and something hard and
cold Dean had never seen in his father before. Dean tried to scent him to
figure out what was wrong but there were no smells in the room. It scared him
even though he couldn’t understand why. His father gently brushed the hair out
of his eyes.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He got up with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He was still
covered in soot, they all were. The ash mixed with sweat looked almost like tar
as it rested in the beginning lines of his dad’s face. Dean thought he looked
like a coal miner from one of his mom’s books. The thought of his mom made him
wonder; he wondered if she was covered in soot too, and if she was on her way
there now to let the doctors check up on her as well.
“I need to talk to the doctor for a while, okay? You wanna hold Sammy while I’m
gone?”
Dean wiped his face with the end of his sleeve and nodded, holding his arms
out, reaching for baby Sammy. He loved when he got trusted with the baby- it
made him feel special, grown up.
Dean petted Sam’s forehead, trying to get out a smudge of ash the doctors
must’ve missed during his check-up. He started to fuss a bit so Dean simply
started to rock him back and forth to the best of his ability and hummed
tunelessly, returning to looking out the window.
John gave him a faint smile and ruffled his hair before motioning to the dark
haired woman in the white coat that gave Dean the heebie-jeebies, towards the
door.
It would be many years before Dean would confess to John to hearing every
single word spoken outside that door.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean has a hard time in school and Sammy is an adorable and
     overprotective little brother
Chapter Notes
     Come find me on tumblr
***** October 1991
Sam:8 y/o
Dean:12 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *****

The sound of the slamming door had Sam jumping so high he almost spilled the
last of the Lucky charms.
“Dean?”
He got no answer except the sound of sneakers being angrily kicked off against
the wall followed by another door slamming shut. Sam put his bowl of cereal on
the table and carefully trodded over the living room carpet towards the
bathroom door. He put his ear against the cold surface, waiting for any sign of
what was going on. A hard slam against the other side of the door had him
stumbling backwards with a jolt.
“Quit it, Sam!”
Sam rubbed at his ear, a quizzical expression on his face as he watched the
door.
“Dean? What’s going on?”
“None of your business, that’s what. Now leave me alone”
Beneath the harsh words and seemingly steady tone Sam could hear the distress
creeping its way into his brother’s voice and it tugged violently at his tiny
heart. He stuck his nose up in the air, searching for any trace left of his
brother walking the short distance from the not—really—a—hallway hallway to the
bathroom, but Sam was still young and his nose and scent receptors weren’t
fully developed yet, he couldn’t make out any emotions at all in the dry air of
the motel room; all he caught was a whiff of rainwater, mudd, the sharp scent
of mashed grass and..blood?
“Dean?!”, Sam squeaked, a hint of fear in his voice.
“A-are you hurt? What happened? Should I call Dad?”
The peeling white door flew up at the mention of their father. Dean stood in
the doorway with dirty, wet clothes and a swollen, split eyebrow. With the new
close proximity Sam could finally smell him and the anxiety that seemed to roll
off him in waves.
“Call Dad and I’ll break your Thundercats tape in half”
Sam recoiled, torn between the worry he felt for his big brother and himself
not wanting his most prized possession destroyed. Tears stung his eyes and he
furiously tried to blink them away, looking decidedly at the floor. He felt it
more than saw it when Dean softened a bit. He sighed heavily and put a cold
hand on Sam’s shoulder to gently steer him towards the couch.
“Sammy, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do anything to your tape,
okay?”
Sam blinked up through wet lashes, his cheeks tear soaked and flaming red. He
fixed Dean’s still bleeding eyebrow with a glare that was half concern, half
anger.
“What happened?”
Dean huffed another sigh and went for his duffel in the corner of the room to
change into dry clothes, sporadically wiping at his brow. When he turned and
found Sam still frowning in his direction he threw his hands in the air
dejectedly.
“It’s the same as always, Sammy. Always someone who wants to jump the freak”,
he ground out, trudging back to the kitchen where he began warming up some
Mac’n’cheese.
“You’re not a freak. They’re the freaks.”, Sam muttered angrily, clenching his
little fists as the hurt and pain bubbled up in his chest.
Sam couldn’t see it, but that managed to put a small smile on his brother’s
lips. His big brother was so used to being mistreated these days that it didn’t
even seem to spark any anger in him anymore. He just seemed.. deflated.
And it hurt Sam.
He wanted to become big and strong so he could protect his brother against
anyone who wanted to hurt him, so he could shield him from feeling like a freak
ever again. To Sam Dean was strong and amazing, and it was incomprehensible to
his eight year old mind that no one else could see it.
~~~~

Miss. Auburn kept droning on and Sam tried to pay attention, he really did, but
his mind was persistently focused elsewhere. He made his pen oscillate back and
forth over the paper, turning the crisp white a faded gray. Outside the leaves
had began to fall, colouring the ground in a deep warm glow.
Dean always told him ‘You’re the baby, Sammy. I’m the oldest, that’s why I
protect you. Not the other way around’, but it didn’t matter. He could not not
worry about his big brother. Every new town it was the same; at first it would
work but when the secret inevitably got out it quickly turned to a living
nightmare for Dean. It always happened the same way of someone catching on,
realizing that Dean was easily deceived and lied to or that he didn’t
understand the entire situation because a part of it was in his blind-spot. And
that’s usually when the others figured it out.
Sam didn’t know how or when Dean had lost his sense of smell, but he knew he
wasn’t born like that because sometimes when Sam woke from a nightmare Dean
would comfort him and tell him about their mom and how she had smelled. He’d
tell him about how her skin had smelled like rose petals and rainwater, and how
when she was really happy the scents mixed with a hint of cinnamon. Sam always
fell right back asleep when Dean told him stories about her.
He was startled out of his daydreaming by loud noises coming from outside. His
teacher quieted, perking her ears and then walked the short distance from the
board to the window with a sigh.
“Great..”, she muttered as she peered down her glasses at whatever was
happening on the ground.
“Y’all stay put while I go talk to the principal”
Her southern drawl always leaked out when she got stressed.
The second she was out the door the entire class rushed to the windows to see
what had their teacher storming out in the middle of class. Sam was the closest
but he heard it before he saw it. A cacophony of voices shouting in various
degrees of loud and excited. At first he thought they were all chanting the
same typical word ‘fight, fight, fight!’, but after a few seconds when his ears
had gotten used to the discord they perked up, slowly distinguishing another
word roared from the mouths of his schoolmates. His stomach turned to ice and
his heart fell in his chest so fast and far he wasn’t sure if it hadn’t in fact
left his body.
“Freak, freak, freak!”
~~~~

He didn’t remember how he got outside. All he knew was the pounding in his
chest and ears and the fear that made it impossible for him to breathe. He
stopped outside the entrance to the school building, trying to get his
bearings. He’d seen the cluster of students from the third floor but after
three staircases and a rather confusing corridor he had no idea in which
direction he would find them. His eyes darted all over, his ears perked up, his
tiny body tense and shaking. Then he heard it.— and his small feet started
toward the sound of his big brother roaring.
Blood flowed freely from the re—opened cut in his brother’s eyebrow where he
sat on top of a boy Sam recognized from Dean’s class. His expression was feral
and tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood, thinning it out to a
lighter red. Dean didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy beating the living
shit out of the other guy. His fists rained down on the boy’s face, leaving red
smudges in their wake; Sam couldn’t tell if it was from the boy or from Dean’s
split knuckles.
“DEAN!”
Dean went rigid as a board, fists positioned midair, his jaw clenched and his
nostrils flaring.
“Sam.. get out of here”, Dean bit out without spending him one glance.
Sam pushed and shoved his way through the considerable crowd that had gathered
and slumped down on his knees next to his brother.
“Dean, please stop.. for me? We’ll go home, okay?”
Dean let out a shaking breath, gripping the other boy’s lapels harder as he
fixed him with a stare.
“This..piece of shit—”
“But.. please, Dean, please..just.. let’s go..”, Sam tried to fight how his
voice cracked at the end.
But it caught Dean’s attention. He finally looked up at his brother’s face, wet
with tears and eyes pleading. Sam could’ve sworn he saw the exact second all of
Dean’s resolve wore off.
“Yeah, okay Sammy..”
He got up from the bruised up boy under a roar of ‘booo’s and every word of
abuse for being weak Sam had ever heard— and a few he hadn’t. Dean wiped his
face with his sleeve and dried off his hands on his jeans as best he could
before offering Sam his hand.
“Come on.. we’re getting out of here”
The boy on the ground got up on his elbows and spluttered in a weak last
attempt to save face
“Yeah, you better run! Freak!”
Not even Sam was prepared when he picked up the stone next to his shoes,
whipping around and connecting the stone with the older boy’s face with all the
force his eight year old body could muster. The boy fell down with a gasp. If
Sam had truly knocked him out or if the boy pretended to save himself from
leers about being clocked by a second grader, Sam had no idea— but he was
thankful the boy stayed down.
Dean’s eyes snapped between the boy on the ground and Sam. His jaw was slack in
shock but Sam swore he could see a hint of pride in his brother’s eyes.
“We should go, Sammy”, he muttered in Sam’s ear before grabbing his hand and
making their way through the cluster.
~~~~

Sam was still holding the stone in his hand when they got home. His whole arm
was tense with it to the point where his muscles had become sore and trembling.
He was scared out of his mind about going back to school the next week and he
was just about to say so when Dean turned around with a box of Mac’n’cheese and
a smile lighting up his face.
“What do ya say, Sammy? I can make it with cut up hot dogs, just how you like
it?”
Suddenly it didn’t feel so scary anymore. Not only had he defended his brother
against that mean boy, he had made Dean look at him with pride in his eyes; and
now he was smiling.
Sam quickly decided it was worth it.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sammy has grown into a lanky affectionate omega teen which ofcourse
     is straight up torment for Dean
Chapter Notes
     Smut o’hoy! This is a long one but I got so caught up in these two
     and their first time together I couldn’t help myself. Hope you’ll
     like it as much as I do!
     ~
     And remember: Feedback is what keeps the stories coming, babes ♡
     Come find me on tumblr
July 1998
 Sam: 15 y/o
Dean: 19 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    “Sam, hang up!”
The lanky, shirtless teen by the phone interrupted his call for the 1,5 seconds
it took for him to turn around and stick his tongue out at his older brother
and then primly turned back to the phone.
    “Yeah, no absolutely. Saturday sounds great!”
Dean swallowed down the growl that laid rumbling in the back of his throat. Sam
looked up at him with a raised brow, scenting the air with a quizzical look on
his face. Dean let out an exasperated sigh pulling the phone from his brother’s
ear and put it back on it’s unit.
    “If you blow up the phone bill, Dad’s gonna murder you”
Sam turned around, his eyes shooting daggers.
    “Just because I happened to present as an omega doesn’t mean you can boss
me around, you know that, right?!”
Dean gripped his chest in mock shock
    “Of course not!”, he gasped “…I get to boss you around because you’re
my teeny weeny baby brother”, he added with a smirk.
Sam huffed, storming past Dean and flopping down on his bed in the dramatic
grumpy teenager fashion he’d recently added to, what Dean liked to call, his
repertoire of hissyfits.
Dean chuckled and dropped down on the motel couch, spreading out lengthwise
with the remote in hand and began his nighttime routine of zapping through
channels until he found something he deemed acceptable or fell asleep. He had
just started to doze off when a pair of cold but soft hands started to push at
him.
    “Move over you big oaf”, Sam grunted as he slid his gangly teenage body
down on the couch next to Dean, pressing him up against the back of the couch.
Dean immediately tensed.
    “Sammy..what the hell?”
    “The bed is lumpy and smells weird and I can’t sleep, so make some room”
Dean grit his teeth. This was not good— far from it. He tried to move back as
much as possible, angling his body to lie on the side to create a gap of air
between their bodies but Sam just backed up after him, chasing his warmth.
    “I’m cold, okay? This motel sucks”

    “For fuck sake, Sam..if it’s cold, maybe you should put a goddamned shirt
on! Besides, we don’t both fit on here, go sit on the recliner”
    “It smells bad too. You take it”
They both went rigid at the same time, Dean internally cursing his entire
existence.
    “..I didn’t mean..—”
    “I know you didn’t”    
    “Dea—”
    “Drop it. It’s fine”, Dean bit out, passive aggressively yanking down the
blanket from the back of the couch to pull over Sam “..now shut up. I wanna
watch the movie without you yammering in the background”
Sam, for once, didn’t say anything. He just gratefully wrapped himself in the
old blanket and curled in on himself, eyes trained on the TV.
Dean swore internally. He tried to think morbid thoughts like dead puppies,
human intestines in a frying pan, people with sawed off knees trying to walk—
the more macabre the better. But his little brother kept inching backwards, so
slowly he probably thought Dean wouldn’t notice, until they were pressed
against each other again. Dean let out a painful groan that he tried his best
to mask as a yawn. Sam was so warm against him it was like his pores consisted
of glowing embers. His brown tousled mop of hair tickled Dean’s chin and he
fought every urge in his body telling him to just sink his face into those soft
strands.
He knew he was sick. It was a conclusion he had reached many times over. Their
father was always away on his manic quest for revenge, but Sam had always been
there, he had been a constant in Dean’s life for almost as long as he could
remember; his main responsibility, what he had to protect, the one thing that
always, undisputedly mattered to him most. So when his clumsy, wide-eyed menace
of a baby brother started to grow into something else, something more than the
round-cheeked child Dean was used to, he’d started to develop new feelings to
add to the mixture.
At first he didn’t fret over it. He convinced himself he looked at Sam in a
strictly platonic aesthetically appraising way, because let’s face it, Sam was
growing into a beautiful man.
But then one day during sparring practice his dick had decided to join the
party, and with interest, and then all of a sudden it wasn’t so easy to
persuade himself that he did not, in fact, lust after his little brother. He
tried to accept his deranged mind with grace, suffering in silence and
practicing control so he wouldn’t pop a chubby in the middle of Sunday dinner. 
Of course it was far from as simple as Dean would’ve hoped, especially with his
brother being the overbearing affectionate sibling that he was. So with Sam
being as protective and loving that he was it shouldn’t have been that much of
a surprise to either Dean or their dad when Sam at the young age of fourteen
suffered his first heat. And that was when Dean for the first time in his life
felt thankful for his loss of smell.
He used to watch other alphas at various bars trip over themselves and often
even having to leave the room when an omega in heat entered the room. He knew
that even though most omegas takes suppressants alphas can still smell the heat
on them even when it’s not in full gear. It was times like that when he felt
that his inability to scent maybe wasn’t so bad after all.
And that’s what he kept telling himself over and over, especially when his ruts
hit him and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pop a knot. He kept
reminding himself of the positive aspects to his dilemma when his inability to
knot any of his toys left him feeling unsatisfied, empty and shaken, alone with
the grueling fact that stared him straight in the eye.
He would never be able to mate.
He got brought out of his thoughts by Sam who suddenly turned his head, braced
on an elbow and giving Dean that same quizzical look as before. When Dean
really thought about it he realised it had happened quite frequently over the
last couple of months.
    “What?!”, he snapped.
He didn’t mean to be callous with him but he figured the more he could get on
Sammy’s twitchy teenage nerves, the more space he could build between them. Not
that he wanted to, in fact it was the opposite of what he wanted. But he had
to.
    “Nothing! you just smell li—… are you okay?”
Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.
    “Yeah, I’m okay, Sammy. Just sleep, okay?”
Sam didn’t look convinced but thankfully he didn’t press the issue. He turned
back around, getting comfy under the blanket and in doing so wiggled his hips a
little too much for Dean’s comfort. He bit his lip, bringing up one gruesome
mental image after another as he stared intently anywhere but at his brother.
Not even the iron taste of blood in his mouth helped to stop his jeans from
getting increasingly tighter.
***** ~~~~ *****
Dean awoke a good deal of hours later to a warm July sun warming his skin and
tiny shaky choked off whimpers coming from somewhere in front of him. He
blinked a few times, trying to get the sleep induced disorientation out of his
head.
That’s probably when he first felt it. A firm but steady, almost.not-there
grind against the morning wood he was sporting. He bit down a groan as he felt
more blood rushing south, making him throb and pulse against the denim. It took
most of his willpower to not thrust back against the soft and warm pressure, to
create more friction and just take. Another whimper reached his ears and that’s
when he noticed the blanket moving.
    “Uh, Sammy?”
The body next to his froze. Dean could only see a small trace of skin where the
blanket had rode down over Sam’s shoulder and his face was covered by a set of
unruly bedhead hair; but what he could make out began to flush red the same
minute he spoke. Sam said nothing, but his breathing went rapid and punched
out.
    “Are you—”
Dean followed Sam’s arm on the outside of the blanket, tracing it with his hand
to where he was gripping himself tightly. By mistake he grazed the tip beneath
the fabrics and Sam’s breath hitched. When Dean’s mind, still fuzzy from sleep,
finally managed to put two and two together he let out a low groan that seemed
to rumble and stretch on forever until he had his face finally buried in his
little brother’s tousled hair. He ground experimentally against Sam’s ass,
causing him to jerk and shiver.
After that everything became unsure movements and asking hands, every touch
being an unspoken question; both of them seeming terrified one wrong move would
scare the other away, but when Dean let his fingers fan out over Sam’s hip,
gripping lightly and Sam breathed out a needy ‘Dean’ he lost all restraint.
He slid off the couch and down until he was kneeling on the floor. He pulled
lightly at Sam’s sprawled out limbs until he had him arranged in front of him
on the couch. The sun hit his brown hair and hazel eyes perfectly, turning the
brown strands into something almost golden and his eyes shone with too many
colours for Dean to count. Sam stared wide-eyed at his older brother, a full
body flush rising up over his chest from under the blanket and unabashed but
slightly perplexed hunger standing out like floodlights in his eyes.
Dean looked up at him, eyes questioning. Sam nodded jerkily his consent and
then Dean had his hands all over that soft sleep-warm skin. He spread his
fingers over Sam’s hips, those long digits reaching back over the sides of his
cheeks and squeezing lightly before planting his face right next to Sam’s
navel, stroking his face against the muscled but still soft flesh. Sam let his
head fall back against the backrest on a badly concealed purr.
Dean smiled against his brother’s skin at the sound. There was no urgency, no
goal in mind or routine way of doing anything; Dean just wanted to feel every
part of his brother, of Sam, of his Sammy.
He licked a long stripe from Sam’s hip up to his ribs. His inner Alpha
stretched and rumbled proudly as the action made Sam whine and buck up, landing
a soft hand on Dean’s shoulder to grip tightly. Dean eyes flitted up over the
tan expanse of skin that seemed to go on forever until he meet his brother’s
gaze. He looked content and pliant, pleading and absolutely wrecked. It was a
beautiful contrast.
The blanket slipped as Dean moved. He leaned back a bit removing his t-shirt
and then surged forward connecting their bodies. The skin on skin sensation had
his instincts going rampant and he snarled happily against his brother’s neck.
Sam’s breath quickened as he tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck.
Dean leisurely licked his lips before closing them around the throbbing vein by
Sam’s throat, gently licking and laving over it as he sucked a purple bruise
into the skin there. He let up to look over his handiwork and made a happy
noise at the swollen garnet patch of skin.
Sam turned his head towards Dean in a short whining sigh. His eyes looked
dazed.
He was beautiful.
Dean let his hand reach up and cup Sam’s jaw, just underneath his ear. He
tilted him slightly to keep his eyes trained on him. He’d always thought that
if this would ever happen he wouldn’t be sure if he was in fact awake or
dreaming— instead he felt more awake than he ever had in his life. Nothing
could ever feel realer than this, nothing could make him feel more awake than
Sammy, sprawled out beneath him, motley eyes riddled with sleepiness and
arousal, skin soft and warm to the touch and a body thrumming, feeling so in
tune with his own that if he were to pull any closer he was afraid they’d just
fall into each other. In a court this would be considered wrong, but Dean
couldn’t even place the word wrong with them in the same sentence; he had never
felt anything so right.
He brought Sam’s face toward his own as he leaned in and with a light pull
connected their mouths. Sam’s lips were hot and dry, but not chapped. They felt
velvety against Dean’s own as he dragged his mouth against his brother’s,
spurred on by a need to wet every inch of his arid lips. 

Sam fastened his grip on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing rhythmically as he moaned
into his mouth and Dean had no choice but to simply melt against him.
A light twitch against his hip reminded Dean of what had led them to this
situation in the first place, and with a sly grin on his lips he stopped the
kiss only to lean back on his haunches and removing the blanket completely from
Sam’s lap. The sweatpants he wore used to belong to Dean and after years of
wear the fabric had become incredibly soft but thin; it did nothing to cover
the hard line of rigid flesh underneath it. Dean’s mouth watered just a
fraction.
Sam just studied his every move, waiting patiently for whatever Dean decided to
do. It made him feel powerful and in control, and every inch of the big brother
he always tried to be. Once again he found himself in a position to take care
of Sammy, and as always it was something in which he happily obliged.
He let his hands rest just above Sam’s hips, his thumbs petting in soothing
circles on his hip bones as he leaned forwards to plant soft open mouthed
kisses along the skin above the hem of his sweatpants. Sam groaned quietly, the
muscles in his midsection tensed momentarily in an effort to hold still. Dean
let one of his hands wander upward to gently hold Sam down as he slowly began
to pull on the hem.
Sam’s cock was typical omega in length— a bit smaller than the average beta,
but what had Dean doing double takes was the girth. Sam was in every sense of
the word thick, and throbbing. At the top of the flushed head a bead of white
threatened to break free and Dean watched closely as Sam’s dick twitched and
produced more making the driblet run down the head in a sleek bow. Dean’s
tongue darted out to wet his lips and Sam’s eyes immediately shot up to trace
the movement.
    “Dean..”, Sam whined.
It was the first word spoken between them since this started. Sam looked
desperate, his skin flushed so pretty and his hands straining in closed fists
by his sides.
    “Shh, I got you”
The salty tang of his brother exploded on Dean’s tongue and the alpha part of
his brain rumbled in satisfaction. Sam shivered and gasped quietly as Dean
closed his lips around the fat head and licked languidly over the smooth skin.
Sam’s back arched on a whine and Dean couldn’t help but smile around the
twitching length between his lips.
He had successfully ignored his own aching erection up until that point but
when Sam started to throb and twitch in his mouth his own cock did the same.
 He made quick work of his belt and zipper letting out a muffled groan as his
cock finally sprung free. He squeezed at the base to calm himself before he
took a deep breath through his nose and let his lips slide down Sam’s length
until his nose rested in deep dark curls.
Sam’s head jerked up and slammed back against the backrest with a thud. The
moans and whimpers spilling from his brother’s lips was all the encouragement
he needed to not give in to the reflexes telling him to let go; he just kept
his mouth taut at the base, swallowing around the head that pressed against the
back of his throat as he let his tongue lap and press up against the sensitive
vein on the underside. He hummed in gratification at the feeling of it, the
weight of Sam resting on his tongue, the girth stretching his lips and the
steady stream of pre cum dribbling down his throat.
Sam just kept fisting the blanket and the cushion covers of the old couch,
squeezing his eyes shut, his throat bobbing with every thick swallow.
Dean couldn’t take his eyes of him.
He let the hand holding Sam’s hips travel lower until it rested at the apex of
his thigh. He gently fanned out his fingers, curling them until his nails
gently scraped the rosy skin. His thumb found its way to just underneath Sam’s
balls, stroking up and down with light pressure between his sack and entrance,
careful not to actually touch him there— he didn’t want to push his luck.
Sam had started to whine loudly now and a steady stream of pleading words were
spilling from his lips. Dean started to slide up Sam’s cock, keeping his tongue
a steady pressure against the shaft as he started to stroke himself in time
with the slides of his brother’s cock in his mouth. Dean wasn’t even surprised
with the amount of pre-cum his dick had produced— he didn’t even need to wet
his hand.
The sounds coming from Dean’s lap were wet and obscene and when they seemed to
register with Sam he tensed up, suddenly flushed ever more red. He scrunched up
his whole face, bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a whimper and threw an arm
over his eyes, shaking his head back and forth.
    “No, no, no, no oh fuck..”
Dean was just about to let go of Sam’s cock to ask what was wrong as he felt a
gush of something warm and wet against his thumb. His brows shot up in surprise
as he slid the finger down further and found more wetness closer to Sam’s
entrance. A desperate and absolutely wrecked groan left his throat as the
realisation dawned on him.
    “You.. you slick for me, Sammy?”, Dean rasped, panting and sounding like
eight shades of ruined.
Sam only shivered in response, the blush creeping higher still until it started
to tint the top of his ears peeking out of that brown mane. Dean surprised
himself with a growl that even to his own ears sounded absolutely primal. He
leaned back long enough to rip the sweatpants completely off and then he was on
him, pushing Sam’s legs forward by the back of his knees. He wasn’t concerned
with asking for permission or taking things too far anymore. All he cared for,
all he thought and wanted was to taste andtake, take, take.
The first swipe of his tongue between his brother’s cheeks had Sam yelping and
bucking against his face. Dean groaned, finally fisting himself in earnest as
any thought of self restraint got completely demolished by the pleading
whimpers spilling from his baby brother.
The taste was better than anything Dean could’ve dreamed of. It was sweet,
smooth and something warm and earthy. It was like molten bliss on his taste
buds. Every pull and drag of his tongue had more slick pulsing out and Dean
greedily lapped up every drop, and when he’d cleaned him fully he pressed
forward, pointing his tongue and started to dart it against the puckered hole
desperate for more.
Sam arched and puled above him and Dean just rumbled darkly in response, a
possessive streak he hadn’t felt before taking root in him. When Sam relaxed
and opened up Dean eagerly licked inside, searching for more honey, for more
warmth.
He had no idea who of them came first. He just remembers Sam’s wailed out sobs
filling his ears while he shot load after load all over the front of the couch,
warm fluid gushing over his lips and chin, and warm pink thighs clasping around
his head.
Dean rested his head against Sam’s thigh for a moment trying to catch his
breath and calm his racing heart. He could still hear the rush of blood in his
ears.
Sam sounded just about as wrecked, his lips giving way for small panted sighs.
When Dean once again could feel his legs he slowly got up and gingerly helped
Sam to put his legs down and arrange his body on the couch in a more
comfortable position.
He didn’t say anything because there wasn’t really anything to say. He simply
blanketed his brother’s slender body with his own, paying no mind to the
cooling cum on Sam’s stomach and gently wrapped his arms around him to his best
ability, contentedly sniffing below his ear; even though he couldn’t smell his
brother the warmth of Sam reaching him through his nostrils felt familiar and
comforting— and he could pretend.
He languidly slid off to the side, scooping Sammy up in his arms and snuggled
in close. Still neither of them spoke, they didn’t feel the need to. Sam purred
quietly, blushing slightly in doing so and Dean allowed a content smile to play
in the corner of his mouth as they both began to drift back to sleep.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     An awkward car ride after the morning’s ..events
Chapter Notes
     This is a short one but it’s plenty feelsy so I hope that makes up
     for it. I just couldn’t leave it there, had to give them some sort of
     way to communicate about everything even if just a little. Enjoy!
     Come find me on tumblr
July 1998
Sam: 15 y/o
Dean: 19 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun had heated the leather seats to an almost uncomfortable degree and
Sam’s arms had begun to feel sticky against the material. Their dad played
their mom’s old cassette tapes on repeat with the volume on high as he always
did and Sam wasn’t the least bit surprised about his brother ability to sleep
right through it. 
What he was surprised about was how Dean had opted to join Sam in the backseat
to ‘get some shuteye’; this was strange simply because Dean hadn’t shared the
backseat with Sam since he was a kid and Dean deemed him too small to sit in
the big backseat all by himself.
They still hadn’t talked about it, about anything really. They had woken up
later in the day, cleaned up and started making dinner when their father had
barged in, frantic and smelling of gunpowder and blood, rambling excitedly
about some possible case in Michigan and once again, just like that, they were
uprooted and on their way to yet another town out of bumfuck nowhere.
Dean wouldn’t even look at him, and every little joyous feeling that had taken
up residence in Sam’s heart since that morning had started to fall down cold
one by one.
    “Psst…Dean—….hey!”
The warm glow of the evening sun hit his brother at that moment just right,
casting a light shadow beneath the rows of soft dark brown lashes making them
look impossibly longer. It sparked a beautiful contrast to his pale skin and
the dust of freckles that the summer sun had turned an ever darker shade.
Sam swallowed down the wistful whine that wanted to climb up his throat. He
still hadn’t gotten complete control over his omega behaviour and as always,
around Dean it was especially difficult.
He had been happy. He’d thought he would actually get what he’d always wanted
yet never dared dream of. And then, nothing. Dean pretended like nothing.
    “Dean!”, Sam whispered a little louder this time.
Dean didn’t open his eyes or as much as flinch but his eyebrows furrowed
slightly.
    “Pretend that you’re sleepy and lie down on my lap”, he whispered back
barely moving his lips, still looking sound asleep.
When Sam didn’t answer Dean pried one eye open at him and then looked pointedly
at their father in the driver’s seat on the other side of the car. Sam sighed
and lied down, trying to spread out his long limbs as best he could and then,
albeit nervously, rested his head on his brother’s thigh.
    “Now what?”
Dean still pretended to sleep but slowly he began talking in a hushed voice.
    “You want to talk? This is how we do it. Dad won’t hear us over the music”
Sam swallowed and nodded, chewing hesitantly on his bottom lip for a moment.
The warmth from Dean’s skin slowly poured through the layer of clothing and
onto Sam’s cheek, bringing with it the scent of Dean, of alpha, and it was
instantly calming. Surrounded by the scent of sandalwood, bergamot and a sort
of salty smell he couldn’t place but reminded him of the ocean; he readied
himself to ask the one question he was dreading. If Dean answered how he feared
he didn’t want to prolong the inevitable. Just do it quick and painless well,
at least it would be quick.
    “Do you regret it?”
Sam’s whisper was barely audible but he knew Dean had heard him by the way he
stiffened beneath him. He didn’t answer right away and Sam could feel the
piteous tears forming behind his eyelids. An unallowed sob wracked his body
before Dean finally let out a long shaking sigh that sounded as if he’d held it
for a long time..
    “No”
Sam drew in an unsteady breath that seemed to almost wobble on the inhale.
    “But you should”
And if that wasn’t the stupidest thing Sam had ever heard.
    “I could never regret being with you, I wanted—… wanted you for so long.
You can’t—”

    “No exactly..”, Dean interrupted in a bit out huff of a breath “..I can’t.
I can’t be what you need”

Sam looked up in spite of himself, searching for Dean’s eyes with tears in his
own. Finally he opened them and emerald green with specks of chartreuse peered
down at him. 
Sam sniffled, dragging his hand underneath his nose. Dean’s eyes softened and
he gave him a fond look that didn’t quite manage to reach his eyes. He closed
his eyes after he placed a hand on Sam’s neck and gently steered him back to
lay his head on his lap. The omega part of Sam’s brain purred contentedly at
the dominant act.
    “You are exactly what I need, and the other stuff— I don’t care. You’re
my Alpha”, he whispered, nuzzling the soft denim.
Dean’s hand tightened around his neck just the slightest and Sam could’ve sworn
he heard a low rumble of approval from his brother’s chest.
    “I shouldn’t, Sammy. Should let you find someone who can— who could— ..
someone who can give you what you deserve”
    “You. Just you. Always you, Alpha”
The use of the title had Dean’s muscles tensing beneath Sam’s cheek. Then, the
hand gripping his neck started to slowly stroke and knead up and down, pausing
just slightly at the scent glands just below his ear where a mating bite would
be made. Sam allowed himself to purr lowly. Dean sighed as all the tension
seemed to melt from his muscles.
    “…Omega”
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam suffers through another one of his heats and what should be an
     intimate and beautiful thing between the two instead always turns
     into torture.
Chapter Notes
     It seems to be a talent of mine to mix smut and angst. I’m still not
     sure if that is a good thing or not, lol. This is heavy on the angsty
     side, it even tugs on my own heart when i re-read it so fair warning.
July 2000
 Sam: 17 y/o
Dean: 21 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They’d gone through this before. Many times. That, regrettably, didn’t mean it
got any easier.
Dean gritted his teeth, grinding them together as he turned the volume on his
headphones up to drown out the noises Sam was making in the other room. Sam
knew how hard this was on Dean, and kind as he was he tried to keep it down,
but every new heat seemed to always be a little bit worse than the previous.
It was always an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they never
spent Sam’s heats together. When Dean realised after that first morning
together that if not even the taste of the one thing that was so
blatantly omega could make him pop a knot then it would never happen. No scent,
no knot.
They never spoke about it but Sam knew; and he never asked.
Robert Plant’s voice kept belting out smooth words in his ears, the base
finding it’s way to the top of his spine where it lingered and made him shiver,
and still it couldn’t drown out the broken mewls coming from the other side of
the wall.
He glared at the ceiling, pressing down on his aching hard-on with a sense of
revulsion. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a flick to the off switch on the
small stereo he got up, grabbing his leather jacket and storming towards the
door. Not only was he not capable of helping Sam through this, he was keeping
him from finding someone who could— hewas the reason Sammy was hurting.
He felt like he was going to be sick.
Halfway through the living room a faint voice stopped him in his tracks.
    “Dean?”
His stomach twisted in a nervous knot as he turned toward the ratted old
bedroom door. He swallowed thickly.
    “Yeah, Sammy? You need something?”, he rasped out.
All he was met with was silence. Cursing under his breath he moved closer until
his hand was on the handle, clammy and numb.
    “Sammy?”
He only heard a small sobbed out whine. The sound of Sam in pain was always
like stabs to his soul but this was new, never had he heard Sam sound so small.
He turned the handle and stepped into the pitch black room. The curtains were
pulled and any gaps were filled with various forms of material to completely
block out the sunlight. Dean was in a morbid way thankful for his inability to
scent because he was pretty sure that if he had been able to, he would have
lost his mind. He could only imagine the amount of heady omega pheromones in
the room just by the sheer humidity that clung to his skin like a sheen of
sickly sweet sweat.
In the right corner, curled up on a legless bed, tangled in sheets lied Sammy,
barely visible in the dark. Dean took a shaky step forward.
    “Hey.. what’s going on?”
Sam turned on the bed, face flushed red and eyes pale and glazed over, his face
only illuminated slightly by the thin stream of light from the door behind
Dean.
    “Can’t do this, Dean.. can’t take it.. need you”
***** ~~~~ *****
A fresh new wave of guilt flooded Sam’s heart as a look of sheer anguish
ghosted over Dean’s face, only illuminated by the soft light coming from the
doorway. He hated to do this, hated to ask this of him. But the heat had
started to hurt and no amount of orgasms or toys seemed to stop it. It burned
low in his gut, cramps coming over him like a vicious stone, cold hand grabbing
his uterus from the inside and twisting it until it ripped off his inner walls
before it finally dwindled down for a couple of minutes just to start up again.
He simply couldn’t take any more.
    “Please, I know you don—… I just.. please, Dean.. it hurts”
Pain mixed with determination over his brother’s soft features and he was on
him in an instant, jaw clenched, teeth gritted but Sam could see the worry and
love breaking through in his eyes.
    “What do you need me to do?”
Dean looked at him like he was breaking inside. A warm hand cupping Sam’s
shaking jaw and another stroking in soothing strides up and down his spine.
    “You know I can’t—”
    “I know”, Sam interrupted weakly “ I don’t care. just.. please”
Despite himself Dean growled and the grip on Sam’s jaw tightened just the
slightest.
***** ~~~~ *****
It was indescribable.
Every push in lit him up from the inside, ember sparks traveling through his
bloodstreams only to surface where they arrived as soft fireworks on his heated
skin.
In contrast every pull out made him feel cold and empty, whimpering and arching
his back trying to chase his brother’s length back inside him.
Sam thought that if this wasn’t currently killing Dean, he’d probably laugh.
A particularly hard thrust made Sam’s eyes snap open and a distressed mewl
leave his lips. He could hardly make Dean out in the darkness. The barely there
light from the creak in the door fell only over Sam’s face and throat,
illuminating parts of his chest on every inhale.
He was soaked in his own sweat, the syrupy sweet pheromones wafting off of him
overwhelming even to himself. He reached for Dean, gripping desperately through
air in the darkness, searching for warm and solid. When he finally found skin
at the tips of his fingers he whimpered, scratching frustratingly at the
pounding chest of his brother. 
Dean obliged with a snarl, bending forward and crowding Sam with his body,
wrapping his arms up underneath his shoulders to grip his neck from behind and
Sam whimpered at the sudden closeness. Against his Dean’s skin was cool and
soft, soothing the scathing burn of his own.
Usually when they were together Dean was everything between loving, talkative,
passionate, possessive and adventurous but above all else he was always caring,
making sure Sam knew how much he loved him and loved being with him and taking
care of him.
This time was different.
It wasn’t that he was closed off or even harsh with him. Dean was just as
caring as he always was, tracing the insides of Sam’s arms with the backs of
his fingertips to distract him when it became too much, kneading the spot just
on the inside of his hipbones to soothe and reassure, raining down soft kisses
all over, whispering a new promise with each one, letting himself murmur and
vow all the things he could otherwise never say
    “Will always take care of you”
    “Will always love you”
    “Will always be here to catch your fall”
But Sam could sense the difference, even in his haze. The words had a sharper
bite to them and every movement seemed to be decided by reason instead of
emotion. Dean was torn and in pain and it was Sam’s fault.
He could smell it on the gusts of anxiety, arousal and desperation that seemed
to get punched out of his brother with every slam of his hips. And Sam hated
himself for doing this to him, for asking this of him. But the pain had been
unbearable. The omega in him had recognized Dean as his Alpha a long time ago
and since then every heat spent without him had been more feverish and far more
painful than the last, his omega not understanding why his Alpha wouldn’t breed
and care for him.
Dean suddenly reached for Sam’s cock, lying hard and red against his stomach
but Sam slapped his hand away with a whined “No!”
    “I need to do this, to— to do this by you, with you..”
He could almost hear Dean’s teeth as his jaw snapped shut and his heart almost
shattered because of it but Dean didn’t give him much time to dwell on it as he
pushed himself up on his knees and wedging them in under Sam’s ass, hoisting
him up by his legs and flinging them over his shoulders. And then he started to
thrust.
Sam wailed.
There is no other word for the sound that Dean repeatedly punched out of him.
It felt like he would die, self combust, explode or crack open at any second.
His brother hammered his prostate with deadly accuracy, pistoning his hips and
slamming in deep with every thrust.
But it wasn’t enough.
Sam began to sob violently, thrashing his head back and forth
    “Please, please, I need—..please..Oh, Dean.. I can’t.. can’t.. please”
Sam didn’t hear the the ripping of his mattress that followed. Tears sprung in
his eyes. It hurt. It felt so good. It was horrible. It was bliss. He couldn’t
take it.
A wracked sob broke the silence and before Sam could react Dean pulled out and
replaced himself with something cold and hard.
    “I’ll give you what you need, Sammy”, Dean echoed hollow.
And then the toy’s knot inflated and Sam’s nerve endings exploded from the
inside and his eyes were met with the blackest black he’d ever seen as they
rolled back in his skull, his arms and torso spasming uncontrollably as he
painted himself in streaks of hot white liquid.
***** ~~~~ *****
Dean looked down at Sam’s shaking figure as he straddled his hips, fisting his
cock furiously as tears stung at the corners of his eyes. He gritted his teeth,
keeping the thoughts at bay and focusing on the task at hand.
Take care of Sammy, always take care of Sammy.
When he came he didn’t make a sound, he just arched backwards, grinding his
teeth as the tears fell and painted his brother’s stomach with his cum, mixing
it with the cooling liquid already pooling there. He knew the scent would help.
At least he could do that.
He fell off of Sam and turned on his side, facing the wall.
And he tried, he truly tried but he simply couldn’t swallow down the
persistence of the tears that wet his cheeks.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     John finds Sam’s acceptance letter. He is not what you’d call
     thrilled.
Chapter Notes
     I know this took a while to post and I’m sorry! Lots of things going
     on in my life and in my mind atm.
     So! Another one packed with angst. Honestly you shouldn’t be
     surprised anymore. Angst is how I roll. (Happy endings is also how I
     roll so don’t fret ♡ )
     ~
     Come find me on tumblr
March 8 2002
Sam: 18 y/o
Dean: 23 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     “You opened my mail?”
    “You’re damned right I did”
John’s voice was unforgiving as he stared his two sons down
    “Did you know about this?!”, he barked at Dean, throwing the ripped up
letter at his feet.
Dean’s jaw worked silently; no words came out. He refused to look at his
brother and instead kept his eyes fixed on the pieces of paper in front of him
like they could somehow give him the answers to all the questions currently
screaming inside his head. His eyes started to sting but he firmly swallowed
the tears down— he refused to show them what this was doing to him. Anger
slowly took him over and replaced the echoing void he’d felt just seconds ago
as he heard Sam starting to plead and argue with their dad, telling him how he
just wanted to be normal and have a chance at a real life.
John’s chuckle sounded empty— hollow.
    “A real life? And what exactly have we been living? We know what’s out
there, we know the truth! And that is damn well more real than all of these
suburban bullshit families put together!”
Dean clenched his fists, the papers on the ground seemingly staring back at
him, mocking him with the ripped up pieces that together chanted ‘He is leaving
you, he is leaving you, he is leaving you’
Dean could hear Sam grinding his teeth and he looked up to see him stubbornly
turning away from their father, but he also saw the angry tears that quickly
got wiped away
    “We used to be one of those bullshit families”, he muttered, not daring to
look up.
John bent down in front of Dean, assembling the letter and then in harsh
movements walking over to Sam, extending his hand with the crumpled up pieces.
    “If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back”
His voice seemed to echo inside Dean’s head, making his head spin and he
started to fear his heart would give out. He couldn’t take anymore. Without as
much as a word he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and before either
of them could interject he was gone.
***** ~~~~ *****
The cheap whiskey felt like liquid comfort as it slid over his tongue and down
his gullet. Dean smacked loudly, turning the glass upside down on the bar,
signaling for another. He was a man with a mission; by the end of the night he
planned to be the level of shitfaced where he forgot he even had a brother… or
a mate for that matter.
The dark wood of the bar felt smooth under his hands, the slight cracks and
beer residue aside, and he let his fingers run along the material, tracing the
patterns that swirled underneath all that varnish. He tried to persuade himself
into believing that if he just stared long enough at the soft wooden curves he
could push all other thought out and the big empty hole that was slowly eating
him up from the inside with it.
    “Here ya go, sugar”
Dean didn’t even look up at the waitress that handed him his drink, he merely
grabbed the glass, tipped his head back and prayed that this would be the one
that made him forget.
All he could think about was Sam; Sam,s kaleidoscope eyes, Sam’s skin, Sam’s
hips; Sam’s hands, the way his heartbeat felt against his cheek, the dimples
that took form next to his mouth every time he laughed, Sam, Sam, Sam, and how
he was losing every single one of those things. He couldn’t help thinking that
he could’ve made Sam stay if he wasn’t broken, that Sam wouldn’t want to go if
Dean was a real alpha.
Dean slammed his hand on the bar three times
    “‘m just gonna save you the trouble, sweetheart, and let you gimme two of
those bad boys at a time”
The redhead came back with two tumblers and placed them in front of Dean with a
loud clink, obviously less than impressed with Dean’s manners. He couldn’t have
cared even if he’d tried.
***** ~~~~ *****
He shouldn’t have been surprised by the large arms that wrapped around his
throat from behind him in a cautious yet warm hug hours later; he guess the
whiskey had done it’s job dulling his senses.
    “Sam?”, he croaked
Sam just held harder, burrowing his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, turning
his skin wet with shaky breaths.
    “Come with me”    
    “What?!”
Dean spun around to stare incredulously at his brother.
    “To California. Come with me”
Dean just stared at his little brother’s red puffy face  — it looked like he
had been crying — trying to wrap his head around what was being asked of him.
    “You can’t be serious”
Sam looked like he’d just been slapped.
    “Why not?”, he demanded, the hurt and sadness in his face quickly sobering
up to hard set and closed.
    “If we leave, people die. We save them, Sammy, I mean if you don’t get
that—”
    “Oh, I get that.”, he stared Dean down and in his haze Dean thought to
himself that he’d never seen Sam look so close to crumbling, his eyes hard and
set but his bottom lip slightly quivering and a faint blush heating his face
“but who saves us, Dean? Who makes sure we get a life worth living? That we get
a chance at happiness? I didn’t decide this, it was decided for me! Dad decided
this life for me! And the one time I try to choose for myself you both hate me
for it? I thought you of all people would understand!”
The crack in his voice at the end almost had Dean breaking into giving Sammy
whatever he wanted. He reached out for his hips, not caring who could see—
nobody knew them here, nobody knew they were brothers.
    “Sammy..”
Sam made a halfhearted attempt to slap Dean’s hands away
    “Please, just don’t”
    “You should go”
Sam did a double take, his eyes widening
    “What?!”
Dean rubbed at his eyes trying to sober up as much as he could and signaled to
the waitress for a glass of water that he impromptu dipped his fingers in and
splashed his face with. He shuddered at the cold and shook his head before he
glanced up at his brother and then looking down at where his hands still held
Sam’s hips tightly.
    “I can’t be what you need. I can’t do what I am supposed to and.. you
deserve better. You should go and—.. and find someone who can”, he looked up
again, searching Sam’s gaze, hoping the feelings of breaking apart from the
inside did not convey into his eyes.
Sam looked like he was ready to take a swing at him and Dean couldn’t really
blame him. But he knew he was right, he knew he had to let Sam go.
    “I’ll stay with Dad, I mean.. it’s what I do, right?”
    “Just stop it”, Sam ground out, fists clenched at his sides “..just stop
it. I can’t believe you woul—”
    “What, Sammy? What?!”
It wasn’t so much the suddenness of the kiss but the power behind it that had
Dean almost tipping off his chair. Sam had his upper lip trapped between his,
and both hands on either side of Dean’s face— and Sam growled.
Dean wasn’t even aware omegas could growl, and it was a menacing sound. Deep,
dark and angry but above all: hurt. The desperation behind each crushing
movement of Sam’s mouth on his accompanied by the glide of wet cheeks against
his own stirred something inside Dean’s chest— it felt like he was coming
apart. Every cell in his chest ached for his brother and he had no idea how to
make it right.
When Sam let one leg slide over Dean’s lap, fitting himself on his thighs
without breaking their mouths apart once, Dean finally snapped. All the hurt,
all the pain, all the want, need and anger took it’s toll and the fabric broke.
Dean slammed his hands hard on Sam’s back, pulling him close and holding him in
place.
    “Sam, Sam, Sammy”, Dean was rambling against his Omega’s soft lips, each
breath of his name sounding like a desperate prayer torn from his lips against
his will.
    “I’m here, Dean. ‘m here, Alpha”
It was Dean’s turn to growl.
He regained enough sense of mind to pull free from his brother and but a bill
on the counter. Sam didn’t have to be told what Dean had in mind, he just
followed him in a haze, their hands locked together in the dimly lit bar and
let himself be led outside and to the adjoining motel. 
Dean looked back at where they were linked, eyes flitting all over his little
brother and how everything seemed to bear a soft filter, blurring the sharpness
of the world around it’s edges.
***** ~~~~ *****
    “Tell me”
    “I love you”
    “Again”
    “I love you, I love you, I love you. So much, so much, Dean. Please come
with me, say you’ll come with me”
Dean groaned like an animal in pain and lifted his brother up so he could slide
his legs around his waist and then quickly pushed him up against the wall.
Sam’s naked body was flushed slightly pink and here and there pebbles rose on
his skin where Dean’s body wasn’t against him, warming him from the cold motel
air.
Dean slid his lips over Sam’s neck and sucked hard, hellbent on marking him up.
They never did that, too afraid their father would see and ask questions. But
at that moment Dean didn’t care. He wanted to mark Sammy up and display him to
the world, show that this omega belongs to somebody. He knew it was wrong, he
knew Sammy wasn’t his anymore— he just didn’t care.
Sam turned his head just the slightest, panting hard against Dean’s dark blonde
strands. The movement made Dean’s lips slide over his skin and over the gland
below Sam’s ear and Dean growled low and filthy in warning.
    “Sam..”
    “Just.. please.. anything”
Dean snarled and attached his lips over the gland, not biting but sucking hard,
scraping his teeth over the sensitive bump.
Sam threw his head back with a hiss, hitting it hard against the wall with a
thud. He ground his hips against his brother shamelessly, his nails clawing
down his back in hard, frantic movements.
    “More, please. Do it and come with me—..”, Sam carded his fingers through
Dean’s hair, tugging slightly to push him harder against his neck “..just say
yes, just say you’ll come, I don’t need anybody else, just please..”
Dean let go of him with his right hand, slamming it hard into the wall right
next to Sam’s head to shock him into letting up. Sam let go with a sharp gasp.
    “You are the one leaving. You decided to go, you decided to leave..”, Dean
snarled viciously between clenched teeth.
He let Sam go, letting the younger man slide down to his feet before he without
pardon grabbed his shoulder to turn him to face the wall. He grabbed both his
hands and locked them together right above Sam’s head.
    “Keep them there”
Sam only whimpered in response.
Dean freed himself of his clothes in a clumsy whirl of fabric and skin, careful
not to let go of Sam for too long. When he finally could press up against that
warm skin that stretched taut over lean muscles he moaned darkly in his
brother’s ear and bit down hard on his shoulder.
    “Everybody always leave”, Dean murmured, spreading his fingers over the
curve of Sam’s ass and dipping in roughly to slide through the sweet slick
pooling there “..knew you would too, eventually. Should be happy, right?”
He lined up and slowly eased himself inside that warm snug heat that always had
his stomach do somersaults. Sam whined and pressed back, chasing Dean’s cock.
    “So you want this?”, Dean bit out and thrust in as deep as he’d go.
Sam gasped and arched, fingers clawing and grappling against the peeling
wallpaper.
    “Want you, always want you”, Sam breathed on a sort of whine that seemed to
come in shocks.
    “No, you DONT!”
Dean couldn’t distinguish between one emotion and another anymore. He felt
filled to the brim with rage, want and need and every emotion dripped and oozed
with desperation. He hated, he loved. He needed, he despised. It was anguish.
He turned Sam easily and pushed him down on the nearby bed so he landed on his
back. Being as obedient as always he kept his hands above his head.
    “That’s a good boy”, Dean snarled, almost mocking, but the sadness still
managed to creep into his voice.
Sam looked at him like he was ready to break.
    “Tell me”, he whispered, liquid pooling in his hazel eyes.
And all the anger just seemed to dissipate from Dean, like he could feel it
anymore billowing out of his pores like toxic steam, and he fell atop his
brother, pushing Sam’s legs up at the knees before snaking his arms under his
shoulder to curl around him. And with one slow thrust inside he grazed his
teeth just underneath the gland on Sam’s neck
    “I love you.”
And Sam broke. The moans mixed with wrenched out sobs and hurt sounds that
didn’t even appear human.
    “I have never loved anything as much as I love you, I love you so much I
sometimes don’t remember what hating myself feels like”
Sam removed his arms, for the first time disobeying his Alpha and wrapped them
hard around Dean, pulling and clawing to draw closer, more, mine.
Dean let his hands wander then, stroking every part of his brother’s skin like
he tried to memorize it— every mole, every freckle and every little scar; in
fact he paid extra close attention to those, scraping his nails over the white
marks and then soothing with the pads of his fingers and finishing off by
leaning down to suck in a dark bruise so his brother would remember him, at
least for a moment.
He kept his thrusts slow but hard, pushing balls deep at the end of every
instroke so Sam would truly feel all of him, so at least in this moment he’d
know where he belonged.
Dean was torn.
Sam let his fingers graze the gland on Dean’s neck and Dean hissed. Sam knew
that Dean was sensitive about that particular spot but he didn’t seem to care.
He bent his head and licked and laved all over it and Dean shuddered above him.
    “Don’t..”, Dean croaked “..please don’t”
But Sam didn’t seem to listen. He latched on to the small ridge and sucked,
laving his tongue up and down, and Dean wailed, gripping Sam tighter, pushing
his knees up underneath his thighs and cradling him to him and started to
thrust in earnest as the tears finally broke free for him too. He didn’t cry,
he didn’t sob; he just panted harshly, desperately and let the tears soak his
skin.
    “Dean, please, please, please”
Sam seemed delirious. He thrashed, clawed and sobbed, squirming underneath his
brother.
    “I’m here, Sammy”, Dean choked out “..always here. I got you”
He gripped Sam’s slender hips once more to angle them just right, and then Sam
went rigid as a board beneath him, arching upwards as he wet his stomach and
chest in long streams of almost clear liquid.
Dean didn’t give him a lot of time to recover. He curled his body over Sam’s
pulling him as close as he could, not caring about the cooling cum on his
brother’s stomach. He pulled Sam’s limp body up in his lap and began to push
into him hard and fast.
    “Can’t lose this, can’t lose you, can’t lose.. don’t leave, fuck, don’t,
don’t leave me”, his rambling became more and more nonsensical the closer he
got. If he had dared to open his eyes he would’ve seen the look of absolute
emotional torment on his brother’s face as he listened to Dean slowly come
apart in more ways than one.
    “Tell me, Sammy, tell me, don’t don’t”
    “I’m here, fuck, I’m here, Dean. I’m yours. always yours. Alpha, I’m your—”
Dean breathed out hard, a rumbling deep, broken moan pouring from his throat as
a thundercloud as he stretched backwards, head slung back and filled Sam to the
brim. The pulsating seemed to fill his body, emitting from his cock and
traveling like water rings throughout his body and all he could feel outside
him was the warmth radiating from his brother.
They didn’t speak after that. Dean got up to find a warm washcloth to clean
them both up and then they just curled up with another. Dean’s tears had dried
and he had pulled back the filter of indifference he used to cope. 
Sam however shook in his arms as the tears and sobs wracked his body. Dean just
held him until the sadness seemed to die down and he finally fell asleep.
The next day the morning light only found Dean to wake. Sam was gone.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     Rewrite of episode 1 with some ehum artistic liberties
Chapter Notes
     So here’s the thing. I have never tried to do a rewrite of anything
     in my life and it was so much more work and so much harder than I
     thought, so if this chapter is a little scattered that’s why. It’s
     still an important chapter for the story and I hope you’ll like it .
     P.s Dean’s scent thing is just how I picture him shutting down
     emotionally with everything that has been going on.
     Come find me on tumblr
***** September 2005
Sam: 22 y/o
Dean: 26 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *****
 
He moaned low in his throat. The soft caress of skin on skin had his mind
reeling. His flesh was alight. One final thrust and he felt the knot swell
within him and then the sharp pain as Dean sank his teeth into his neck, biting
through the mating gland and sealing his lips around it.
Sam saw stars.
His climax knocked him off his feet, though he wasn’t really sure he was in
fact standing.
His Alpha growled lowly over the bite-mark before he let his blood stained lips
drag up to just underneath Sam’s ear and purred contentedly
    “Omega…”
Sam woke with a gasp, stirring the sleeping alpha next to him.
    “Sam? Honey? What’s wrong?”
    “I—..nothing, I’m fine”
He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way and then lied back down on his
side, facing away from the beautiful blonde next to him. 
She patted him sleepily on his shoulder. It took mere seconds before he could
hear the soft telltale sounds of Jessica sleeping. He stared out into the
darkness of the room, feeling the return of that deep dark hole in his stomach
that just continued to grow.
    “Just fine..”
He didn’t know if he had fallen asleep or was just in the process of doing so
when he heard the unmistakable sound of a window being opened. His eyes shot up
and he was on his feet before he was even aware of having made the decision. He
took one last glance at Jess, making sure she was still sound asleep before he
made his way downstairs.
***** ~~~~ *****
    “Whoa, easy, Tiger”
    “Dean?!”
While Sam lied pinned beneath his brother, having a hard time putting two and
two together, Dean just laughed. It was a contradiction in itself, the sound, a
clear and rough tone all at once and Sam could feel something tighten in his
chest at the sound of it. Slowly the familiar scent of sandalwood reached Sam’s
nostrils and he inhaled deeply, his mind momentarily fogged over, and his
insides rejoiced, the primal omega-part of his brain preening and chanting
‘Alpha!’
His mind finally cleared enough to tackle his brother and pin him down.
    “Get off of me”, Dean grumbled
Sam stepped back and extended a hand to help Dean up.
    “What the hell are you doing here?”
Dean proceeded to give him some bullshit story about looking for a beer and
before he knew it the room was lit and Jess wass standing in the doorway with a
groggy confused look on her face
    “Sam?”
Sam looked over at her, presenting her with a small smile in greeting that
quickly got wiped off his face at the rumbling growl that erupted warningly in
Dean’s chest. Sam knew Dean couldn’t smell the alpha on her but he was also
aware that Dean had learned to read other signs. Their posture was usually a
dead giveaway as all alphas carried themselves in a self assured standing tall
sort of way, and the women had a sway to their hips that had nothing to do with
allure and all to do with attitude. Jess was a textbook alpha.
    “Jess… hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica”
Sam glanced nervously between the two alphas eyeing each other up. Dean broke
away first with a sneer. Jess looked less than impressed.
    “Wait, your brother Dean?”
She scented the air before giving them both an odd look but then tried to smile
casually when she caught Sam’s eye. Dean acted as if he hadn’t noticed and
strolled up to her with a somewhat amused smirk dancing on his lips, eyeing her
sleepwear.
    “Oh, I love the smurfs. Totally age appropriate.. and by the by I gotta
say..”, he gave her a badly feigned incredulous smile “..my brother is
completely outta your league”
The smile on her plush lips fell. She turned as if to go back upstairs
    “Just let me go put something on”, she muttered
    “No, no, no, I wouldn’t dream of it. Seriously”, Dean quipped with a
derisive grin.
Sam almost laughed despite himself. His brother always was a cocky little
shit. 
The feeling died in his gut when Dean started to talk about wanting to talk
with Sam alone. Being alone with his brother was probably the last thing he
wanted at that moment and he didn’t want to alarm Jess by going off with
another alpha, even if that alpha was his brother. There was just something in
the way she looked at Dean.
    “No”
He moved to stand beside Jess and put his his arm around her. She smiled
triumphantly and then moved a leg to stand slightly in front of him, posturing
to assert her claim on Sam. When Dean merely chuckled at her display she
bristled; Sam put his arm tighter around her and leaned in closer to allow her
to scent him to calm her down.
    “No, whatever you want to say you can say it in front of her”
Dean clicked his tongue, a crooked smile on his lips that didn’t really reach
his eyes.
    “Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days”
Sam grip around Jess’ waist hardened.
    “Alpha, excuse us. We have to go outside”
***** ~~~~ *****
Sam felt glued to the spot, shock and hurt curling like snakes in his gut.
    “I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I
should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing!”, he found himself shouting,
finally managing to get his feet to work and stomp after his brother
Dean didn’t stop to even look at him, he just kept going toward the car
    “You weren’t just going to college, were you? You also left me”
Sam stopped in his track, falling silent.
    “I asked you to come with me. I begged you”

    “And the next morning you were gone”
    “You wouldn’t come, I just thought it’d be easi—”
    “Yeah, well..”, Dean interrupted “.. Dad’s in real trouble right now. If
he’s not dead already. I can feel it.”
Sam swallowed thickly, the thought of their dad creating a tight knot around
his airways. He tried to get a read on his brother, tried to scent him but
slowly realizing that something was dangerously off. He could scent Dean’s
individual smell— but nothing more. Scenting Dean felt like scenting a person
devoid of emotion or want. Sam shuddered. He was just about to open his mouth
and ask when Dean once again interrupted him.
    “I can’t do this alone”
    “Yes, you can”
Dean looked down for a moment, and then up, searching his brother’s face.
    “Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”
***** ~~~~ *****
Sam shoved a couple more t-shirts into his duffel, only stopping when he felt a
pair of eyes burning his neck. He spun around just to see Jess in the doorway
looking worried.
    “Hey.. everything’s going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise.”
    “I don’t like how he looks at you. Like you’re not his brother but instead
some prey for him to dig his teeth in”

Sam let out an involuntary shiver but quickly shook himself out of it. He tried
to brush it all off with a smile.
    “He looks at everyone like that", he joked “he is just very protective of
me. Always have been. That tends to happen when you’re both the little brother
and the omega of the family”
Jess pouted but seemed to accept his explanation and Sam inwardly sighed a
breath of relief.
    “Okay, just don’t forget who you belong with”

She leaned in and gave him an intense kiss, digging her nails in just the
slightest into his neck below his gland and Sam melted into it with a happy
sigh.
    “I’ll miss you”
***** ~~~~ *****
“Thank you so much, operator”
Sam ended the call with a grin and pocketed the phone.
It had been a couple of days with Dean and it had been.. strange. They had
somehow fallen into a familiar banter with each other but neither of them ever
mentioned what they in reality used to have. But Sam could feel every lingering
look burn on his skin whenever his brother thought he wasn’t looking.
The whole fiasco on the bridge was another thing that occupied his mind. Dean
had snapped at the mention of their mother, grabbing Sam and pushing him up
against the bridge, and for a brief fleeting moment something ghosted over his 
face; something like longing lit his green eyes for a second and Sam was sure
he was going to kiss him but then the air around them seemed to freeze. They’d
just barely managed to turn in time to catch sight of the woman in white.
And now Dean was in custody.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he picked it up, already smiling before he
he even heard the voice on the other end.
    “Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don’t know, that’s pretty illegal.”
Sam grinned wide.
    “You’re welcome”
Dean proceeded to tell him about their dad leaving his journal behind for them
and for every passing second Sam’s brows knitted closer together.
    “I don’t understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just
skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?”
Sam looked up and then slammed the brakes. The woman in white, Constance, was
eyeing him sadly from the backseat.
    “Take me home”
***** ~~~~ *****
    “Don’t do this.” 
   “I can never go home.”
He looked up, a feeling of understanding surging through him
    “You’re scared to go home.”
In a flash she was suddenly in the front seat, stroking herself against him,
asking to be held. Sam struggled to get away, trying to keep control on the
fear and disgust screaming inside him. 
She moved to straddle him and he strained his neck to get as far away as
possible but she moved to kiss him, making him jerk away.
    “You can’t kill me. I’m not unfaithful. I’ve never been”
    “Lying doesn’t suit you, I saw the man on the bridge”
An image of Dean slowly surfaced in Sam’s mind, confused and angry green eyes
and plush lips so close.. Sam’s eyes went suddenly wide as Constance leaned
forward and kissed him, cold lips making his own go numb, and then she was
gone.
The piercing burn around his heart whited out every lucid thought he thought he
might’ve had. He tore around it, trying to get the source of the pain off of
him, arching and bucking in his seat.
A shot went off; and another. ten shots later and the pain was gone and Sam
could get his hand on the steering wheel. Determination flooded his brain with
every breath.
    “I’m taking you home”
***** ~~~~ *****
The hurt on Dean’s face still festered in his mind like an open wound as he
closed the door behind him. He stilled, leaning against the door for just a few
moments to collect himself, breathing deeply in and out through his nose. It
was pure pain, saying goodbye again, but he had to. Dean was all he’d ever
wanted, but he had to accept the fact that Dean didn’t feel the same way,
didn’t want in the same way.
As he took one last deep breath the scent of sugar and chocolate tickled his
nose. He opened his eyes and made to follow the scent only to find a big plate
of freshly baked cookies on the counter with a note ‘Missed you! Love you!’.
Sam smiled fondly and took a bite of the cookie. Just what he needed— comfort
food.
He could hear the shower running as he snuck into the bedroom and lied down on
the bed, breathing in the strong scent of alpha from the bedding. 
Something warm and wet landed on his forehead and he jerked, snapping his eyes
open
    “NO!”
    “Sam?!”
    “JESS!”
    “Sam! Sam!”
    “NO! NO! JESS! NO!”
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Summary
     A sort of rewrite of All hell breaks loose
Chapter Notes
     I swear this will be the last time i try to rewrite anything. This
     was pain, lol.
     Also please comment? the last chapter got so little respons and I'm
     starting to fear you guys have grown tired of it?
Almost three and a half years, his own thoughts echoed in the empty space
inside him. Three and a half years I refused him, three and a half years I
acted as if I didn’t see, didn’t know, didn’t want. Three and a half years we
could’ve had together, and now—..
Now he’s gone, that evil little voice residing in his mind supplied.
The skin on his knuckles split on the impact with the wall, but the pain got
lost in translation somewhere halfway through his nervous system. He stared at
the ripped skin, his eyes unwilling to focus.
    “Dean? Brought you this back”
Dean didn’t even gift Bobby with as much as a glance.
    “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
    “You should eat something”
    “I said I’m fine”
He took a swig of the half empty bottle of whiskey, not even noticing the
liquid burn slicking it’s way down his throat. Everything hurt, yet he couldn’t
feel a thing. He narrowed it down to the alpha part of him being so torn apart
over losing it’s mate that it had gone numb and his human side, stubborn as
ever, still screamed at the top of his lungs. It was like being cold and heated
at the same time; it made him nearly lose his mind..
    “Dean… I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don’t you think maybe it’s
time… we bury Sam?”
That almost made Dean laugh. A morbid feeling crawling in his stomach. He
looked up at Bobby’s eyes, searching the warm coloured irises that matched the
swirling whiskey in his bottle for any sign of insincerity, because surely he
had to be joking?
Dean’s face hardened.
    “No.”
    “We could… maybe—”
    “What? Torch his corpse? Not yet”
Bobby continued to plead, urging Dean to come with him, to bury and leave Sam,
like that was even an option. Dean fidgeted and ran his hands through his
unkempt hair, greasy now after days of not showering.
    “…something big is going down – end-of-the world big”
     “Well, then LET IT END!”, Dean roared.
He didn’t know where the rage came from but he felt hollow and as if all that
remained was fire licking up his insides and turning his heart into charcoal.  
     “You don’t mean that..”
Dean stood up at that, getting as close to Bobby as he dared without losing his
control completely. The Alpha inside him awoken by the pain and growling and
snarling low in his throat. The fire was behind his eyes now, almost blinding
him, and it hurt. Everything was white hot and he hurt and he wanted the hurt
to pay, he wanted everyone to pay.
    “You don’t think so? Huh? You don’t think I’ve given enough? You don’t
think I’ve paid enough? HE WAS MINE!”
Bobby blinked at him at that last line but Dean didn’t care, everything ached
and he needed to get it out, needed to scream some of it out or he’d go down
with it.
    “.. he was mine and I rejected him, because I thought I was protecting him,
again and again. For what?! I resisted! I lied to myself and everybody and to
Sam! To protect him and I couldn’t even do that!  I’m done with it. All of it.
And if you know what’s good for you, you’d turn around, and get the hell out of
here.”
A million and one emotions seemed to ghost over Bobby’s face: hurt,
incomprehension, understanding, pity, anguish. His jaw worked as if in slow
motion but no sounds came out so he just looked down, shaking his head.
And for some reason Dean couldn’t stand it. The panic started to burn bright in
his veins, coursing through him to get a steelgrip on his heart. He couldn’t
breathe.
He took one step forward and shoved the older beta
    “GO!”
Bobby just looked at him with shock and despair in his eyes. He could almost
hear himself break as all the fight went out of him. There was no point, no
use.
    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, just go..”
    “You know where I’ll be”, Bobby sighed with his back turned and then he was
gone, leaving Dean alone with the cold body of his dead brother and for the
first time since Sam’s death, Dean let the tears come.
***** ~~~~ *****
He just sat there for a while, crying silently with his eyes fixed on Sam’s
face. Every memory ran through his mind like a freight train; the day of the
fire; Sammy’s first word being ‘Dean’ and the competing emotions of joy and
jealousy on their father’s face; Sam knocking Gus out on the schoolyard for
calling Dean a freak; that 4th of July in the field with the fireworks when Sam
had been so beautifully happy; the first time they’d been with each other and
the feeling of relief and utter happiness knowing he felt the same; the letter
from Stanford, two years of agony and burying himself in booze, women and
hunting; the indescribable feeling of seeing and touching again; the almost
moment on the bridge and every single one thereafter; and Sam..lifeless and
still warm in his arms.
   “You know, when we were little— and you couldn’t been more than 5— you just
started asking questions. How come we didn’t have a mom? Why do we always have
to move around? Where’d Dad go when he’d take off for days at a time? I
remember I begged you, ‘Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don’t want to know’. I
just wanted you to be a kid… just for a little while longer. I always tried to
protect you… Keep you safe… Dad didn’t even have to tell me, it was just always
my responsibility, you know?..”
Dean wrung his hands and took a steadying breath that shook on the inhale.
    “..I got so caught up in protecting you I forgot everything else. I was so
obsessed with what was best for you I didn’t stop to think about what you
wanted or needed. The thought to ask didn’t even cross my mind… I know I kept
blaming you for leaving, but god dammit man I know it was me. I know I rejected
you and that’s why you left and I kept doing it, right? ‘Protect Sammy at all
costs’… always keep you safe.. I should’ve made you happy instead, should’ve
been there.. with you. And now..It’s like I had one job… I had one job…and I
screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, I’m sorry..” fresh tears fell and wet
his cheeks “..I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad
down. And now I guess I’m just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am
I supposed to live with that?”
He swallowed hard, chin wobbling as the fiery grip on his heart tightened.
    “What am I supposed to do? Sammy. God. What am I supposed to do?”
    “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”
***** ~~~~ *****
The soft notes of a Metallica ballad rang out through the speakers as Dean’s
grip on the steering wheel tightened. He tried to push any thought of what he’d
just done as far down in the back of his mind as he could, only focusing on
getting back. The taste of the demon still lingered on his lips and he growled
in disgust, licking his lips clean and spat out the window. A little voice rang
curiously hollow in his thoughts ‘you just sold your soul’. 
Dean snarled and his knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering
wheel. It was worth it, I did it for him, it was worth it, it was worth it, he
repeated to himself again and again to drown all other thoughts out. He
loosened his grip and turned up the volume on the old stereo.
“So close, no matter how far
Couldn’t be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters”
Dean swallowed hard and pressed down harder on the gas, urging Baby to go just
a little faster. The engine was straining, he knew, but right then he couldn’t
bring himself to care.
“Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know
I never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don’t just say
And nothing else matters”
Dean growled again, low and deep in his throat, mumbled ‘fuck it’ and put the
pedal to the metal.
***** ~~~~ *****
His heart leapt in his chest and did at least three extra beats.
    “Sammy?...thank god”
Sam didn’t even have the time to finish the ‘Hey’ waiting on his lips before
Dean stalked over to him and clashed their mouths together.
He didn’t even care that he whimpered. It was too close, too soon and too warm
but he was too emerged in it to resurface; it was like a brief spark of sanity
inside the madness and it hurt and it soothed and it practically vibrated
within him.
Sam’s hands were immediately on him, up under the back of his shirt and Dean
soon reciprocated, tangling his dirty fingers in even dirtier hair and not
being bothered about that the slightest. Sam wasn’t cold anymore and that was
the only thing Dean could care about.
In the end it would be worth it; he’d bought them a new chance together, even
if that chance came with a deadline.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Summary
     The boys spend their last Christmas together
Chapter Notes
     HAH! I did it! I finally sat down and wrote the chapter. Yay me! Now
     this aint a re-write because I refuse to ever do that again- but
     rather my version of their last christmas together. It’s as always
     feelsy (but rather short), hope y’all enjoy and that you leave me
     some nice comments to wake up to in the morning ♥
December 25th 2007
Sam: 24 y/o
Dean: 28 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christmas 2007 went by in a blur of soft warm light from a mix of cheap orange
christmas lights and lit candles, cheap gas station decorations— swiped when
the cashier wasn’t looking— , an exchanging of gifts so poignant neither of
them had said anything afterwards, a rush of hands on heated skin and strong
legs tangled together, and eggnog strong enough to make your toes curl
Have you ever been with a person who has an expiration date?
Have you ever made love to the ominous sound of a deadline?
Sam didn’t speak. Neither did Dean. There was too much to say to form any words
around it so Sam instead allowed his body to tell Dean the things he couldn’t;
how he ached for him even when they were together, how much he loved him, how
in his heart he knew Dean was his mate, how he kept choking on his own breaths
because it felt like every single breath they drew together would be the last.
They spent the night grabbing frantically for each other, whispering untruthful
promises against the other’s skin, desperate for them to be true. They skimmed,
brushed, stroked and felt every inch of skin, branding it to memory, painting
it across their hearts. Moving in tandem, breathing each other in, turning
one’s exhale to the other’s inhale. Sharing oxygen, sharing heat, sharing
space.
Sam’s tears had just barely dried since they’d exchanged gifts. Dean had handed
over— wrapped in old magazine paper— their dad’s old leather jacket because
“It’s the most important thing I own, Sammy”.
Sam had jumped him then, not caring if his considerable weight would be too
much on his brother, and simply burrowed his head in under the crook of his
brother’s jaw.
    “I can’t-I ca.. I can’t”, Sam had hiccuped, crying as if he were a little
boy again, seeking comfort in the lap of his big brother. “I can’t do this”
Dean hushed Sam gently, stroking him softly over his back as he leaned back on
the couch so Sam tipped with him, sprawling out over his chest. He comforted
Sam like it wasn’t in fact he who was earmarked for hell, like he was perfectly
content sitting there, consoling Sam because Dean was going to die— it was
utterly ridiculous.
But ridiculous or not Sam couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over, wetting
his cheeks and everything close by: Dean’s shirt, chest, hands and throat. All
fell victim to Sam’s body rocking heartache.
    “Hey now.. shh- Omega, hey..”
Dean just hushed and cooed and let Sam cry.
It hadn’t happened very often. Sam had tried to remain strong for Dean, to not
spoil the time they had left but every so often everything he’d piled on would
become too much and a look, a certain word or a touch could be enough to make
him snap and then he just broke. Dean, just as he’d promised again and again,
always caught him when he did; he picked up every piece when his Omega fell
apart, and gently helped him to reassemble himself.
How he would keep it together without Dean was beyond him— he could barely keep
himself together with him.
Dean had walked through the motel door that evening like he didn’t have a care
in the world, shivering and shaking his head to get the flakes of snow out. He
bore the same showstopping putting-the-sun-to-shame grin that he always wore
these days, or rather, that he always wore these days when he had eyes on Sam.
That’s what it had been like since it had happened. Only eyes for Sam, all the
time. Sam was kind of impressed with how they’d got any work done considering
how they never seized to touch, never stopped watching, always so aware of the
other and scared to lose sight. At times it even affected their work and
inevitably put them both in harm’s way, both of them too caught up in making
sure the other was alright that they left themselves unguarded. It never
stopped, never dwindled, never faded.
Hours later they were still tangled up together on the deep motel couch, naked
limbs sprawled under a thin sheet, the outside cold not even coming close to
bother the warmth of their heated skin.
Ever since it happened there had been an urgency to their touches that hadn’t
been there before— like it was rushed and forcefully slow at the same time.
Scared to not have enough time, scared to not use the time to its fullest. If
nothing else, it was the physical contact of two people with an pre-destined
end.
Dean never stopped dragging his blunt fingernails up and down Sam’s torso,
making his breath shiver and fingers curl. His big brother had always had a
thing for marking him up, but since that day.. —  it had reached a whole new
level and Sam more often than not looked like a Jackson Pollock painting
underneath his clothes.
Sam on the other hand was more into etching Dean into memory, scenting up and
down his chest and neck, drinking in the warm sandalwood scent of him like it
was his favourite drug, and just letting his hands search every bit of Dean’s
fair skin, mapping it out to forever glue it to his memory, desperate to never
lose, desperate to never forget. Despair ripping up his heart as he tried to
soak up every part of his Alpha.
They clawed at each other, tugging and pulling closer though there was no
distance left to cross, no more space to close. No matter what they did it was
never enough.
That’s how they lived those last few months together, breaking apart and
putting each other back together, clawing, gripping and pulling in an intricate
choreography that never seized. Every moment heated, every mundane event
important. They spent their nights tangled together, their days in each other’s
space. They lived those months so aware of every second together that before
they knew it, it had passed. They spent every moment so desperately close.
Until they didn’t.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Summary
     With Dean gone Sam is wrecked with anguish and guilt. His grief
     counselor advises him to write a letter
***** Summer 2008
Sam: 25 y/o
Dean: (would be) 29 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *****
‘Hi Dean.
This is stupid, I don’t know what to say. it’s not like you’re gonna read
this..
I’m seeing a therapist, and yeah yeah I know what you would say, that it’s all
horseshit and a waste of money, but I didn’t know what else to do, okay? I
tried. I tried to bring you back. I even got Bobby to help for a while but
eventually even he gave up.. and then so did I.. I guess. I simply didn’t have
any more books, or leads to anything that could help you.
My therapist told me to write to you, that it was a “good and proven technique”
to get some sort of closure. So here I am, alone in a hotel room with rain
smattering on the windows, writing my dead brother..
 
I miss you
Normally I’d never tell you anything that might worry you but since there is no
way you’ll ever read this..
I’m not okay. I don’t sleep and I barely eat.  i cant stop calling your
phones..I just need to hear your voice
I keep some of your old clothes next to my bed and that used to help me sleep,
but they hardly smell of you anymore. I can make out just the faintest scent of
sandalwood if I bury my nose in them, all other trace of you is gone. The only
thing that still smells of you is the jacket, I think you wore that damned
thing so much your scent got ingrained in the leather.
I know we never mated but it still feels like it, like I’ve lost my mate. I
haven’t had a heat since you.. since you’ve been gone, even though I was
scheduled for one. I think that part of my brain refuses to fulfill my cycle
without my Alpha here with me.
The year we got.. Dean, it was the best and worst of my life. Every day was
another I got to spend wrapped up in you, all of you, but it was also another
day closer to your death. It was torment and bliss all the time and most days I
felt like screaming… I just wish we hadn’t lost those five years. I wish you
hadn’t been so scared. I wish I had fought harder for you.
To be quite honest I wish for a lot of things. I wish you were here, I wish you
weren’t dead while I’m sitting here writing this damned stupid letter, I wish I
was enough to bring you back and I wish I wish I wish it didn’t hurt so much.
You are missing from me and I don’t know how to fix a hurt that broken.
I feel helpless and I feel fallen. There wasn’t a god damned thing I could do
to stop it was there? And you knew. You knew Ruby was telling me lies, you knew
that there was no way to save you and still you smiled the whole way through
it. why?
Why were you so insistent on making me laugh? Getting me to sing with you in
the car? Christmas?! FUCKING HELL DEAN WHY?!
I feel like I hate you but I know that’s not true. But it would make a lot of
things easier.
This.. this is torture, this is losing a limb, this is losing a piece of your
soul and being stuck with the other part who desperately tries to rejoin the
other.
Yes. I’ve thought about it.
                                Like you wouldn’t?
But then I remembered why you did it. And throwing that away would just make
your death that much more worthless. So I won’t. Okay? I won’t.
When i think about you, where you are right now, what you’re suffering
through.. it makes me wanna claw my own brain out. I can’t take it I just ca
        I broke the pen, lost it for a second there and kinda snapped it in
two..
 
I did try to offer myself in your place. I asked any low life demon who would
hear me but nobody would take the deal. They just wanted to watch me squirm..
I have nothing left. No one. Bobby keeps trying to get in touch with me but I
can’t stand to look him in the eyes. Mom, Dad.. you.. I can’t bear it.’
Sam got up and went over to the ratty kitchenette to clean the ink off his
hands. He felt utterly ridiculous. Why was he doing this? It wasn’t like hell
had PO Box. 
He sighed deeply and rested his elbows on the counter, head in his hands and
squeezed his eyes shut. It had been three months since it had happened and it
hurt no less than then, his inner Omega still screamed daily for his mate and
his insides was still ripping apart, fresh and bleeding.
He knew they’d never mated but Dean was his mate, he was he was he was, there
was no doubt in his mind and it had always felt like it, even during the years
when they weren’t together.
Sam tried to stifle the sob wracking his body. He would give anything to just
feel his brother’s scent around him again. He leaned back and roared, slamming
his fist against one of the shabby cabinet doors so hard it fell off its
hinges.
‘Fuck you, Dean. FUCK YOU. You did this. I don’t care that you did it for me, I
don’t care that you did it to protect me because WHO PROTECTED YOU, DEAN?! You
didn’t allow anyone to do so and you just thought that that was okay? That I
would be okay living my life knowing that my brother, my mate, MY FUCKING
SOULMATE was dead because of me?! I hate you.
                                I hate you.. ,
                                                             I hate you, I hate
you
                                                 I hate you’
Salty droplets fell on the page then, with soft sounds, lightly smudging out
the ink.
‘I hate you for this, I hate you for leaving me, I hate you for not being here
and I hate you because.. I just.. you left. You left, you left, you left and I
had to watch.
I had to watch you get torn to pieces, ripped open by invisible dogs. I hate
you because, because of you I had to watch the life leave your eyes and that
memory is forever burned into the insides of my eyelids. Every time I close my
eyes it’s all I see.
Just please don’t be dead. please. 
                                                         please. 
         can this all just be a big elaborate nightmare? One I’m going to wake
up from and you’ll be there snoring soundly next to me with your arms around
me?
You always slept that way, always protecting me, even in your sleep.. and I’ll
never get to have that, wake up like that, ever again..
Just. ..Why. Fuck it, Dean, why?! Why did you leave me?!! you left me and I
can’t do shit about it! I can’t do this. I can’t do this alone.’
Remember when You said that to me? Outside my place at Stanford? and I told you
that you could and you said that you didn’t want to? Well for me it’s both. I
don’t want to, and I can’t. I am barely there anymore, Dean. there is nothing
left. You took all of me with you.
Fuck it, fuck fuck fuck.. just please.. just please please please. I need you.
here. safe and warm and with me. just..
 
                                        Alpha…
                                                  please come back to me
                                      
                                                                               
                      /Sam’
***** Final chapter *****
Chapter Summary
     Rewrite of the beginning of Lazarus rising
Chapter Notes
     So here it is.The final chapter. Still can not believe I finished it.
     I really hoped you loved this story as much as I do and I hope your
     hearts isn’t to mauled by the angst levels. I might write an epilogue
     for this if there is interest, so let me know. Also please let me
     know what you thought about this story now that it is finished. It’ll
     only take a moment of your time but it will make my day♡
     ~
     Come say hi on tumblr
***** September 18 2008
Sam: 25 y/o
Dean: 29 y/o
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *****
The oxygen went down like a thorn bound intrusion in his lungs; it burned like
wildfire and acid, clawing up his throat — like the air didn’t belong there
anymore.
Dean gasped and searched with his hands, blindly looking for anything to help
him figure out where he was. His hand finally landed on a lighter in his
pocket. The flame illuminated the tight space, flicking shadows over the old
wood of his coffin.
His coffin.
The soil was like sandpaper in his eyes and the need for breath tore at his
lungs almost as much as drawing one would, but it was a welcome burn, it meant
he was alive. But it hurt, so much so that he didn’t even reflect over the
smell of damp rich soil that followed the air up his nose when he finally felt
fresh air descend his lungs. He gasped and groaned, digging his fingers into
fistfuls of grass covered ground to drag his body out of his grave
   ‘I’m clawing my way out of my own grave I am clawing my way out of my own
grave, jesus christ’
All the way out, he turned on his back allowing himself a brief moment to relax
before —
His mind hadn’t had the chance to work through what had happened or where he
was or what he should be expecting, it was like his brain was pushing that
stuff out of his reach purposefully, knowing it was something that would
probably break him; a self preservation brain fog of sorts.
The sun warmed his face slightly but it didn’t feel as he’d expected, as his
memories told him it should feel; the warmth awoke other feelings in him —
 fear and a sudden urge to vomit. He blinked some dirt from his lashes, peering
up. The light felt unnatural and stung his eyes like saltwater.
He stood up on wobbly legs, looking around. The whole clearing looked like it
had been leveled by a bomb blast.
‘What the hell was going on?’
***** ~~~~ *****
A jolt of exhilaration went through his chest when the rickety car roared to
life, and he quickly closed the door and wheeled the rusty old thing out of the
gas station.
He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles began to whiten. He had
time to think now. And every thought he’d suppressed up until then came rolling
in, over, inside and around him like a vicious thundercloud.
   ‘Where’s Sammy?’
   ‘Where am I?’
   ‘What the fuck was that at the gas station?’
   ‘Who brought me back?’
   ‘Where’s my Omega?’
   ‘Why was I buried?’
   ‘Who did this?’
   ‘Where’s my mate ?’
The questions tumbled like waves in his head, breaking on top of the other so
loud and cacophonous that he had a hard time focusing on the road, the asphalt
blurring in front of him. He slowed on the gas and granted himself a moment to
close his eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
He gasped when the scent of leather and warm late-summer day reached his
nostrils. He pulled on the brakes in panic and stumbled out of the car.
He looked down at his stomach again, letting his fingers trace over where the
wounds and scars should’ve been. He hadn’t dared to think about who had done
this, who would go through the trouble of putting him back together, much less
anything else as in at what length he had been made whole. He looked around,
looking cautiously over the forest trees framing the road. He took a hesitant
step towards the ditch and then another before he was almost touching.
He drew in a deep breath.
It was almost too much. The scent of wood and pine and moss, rainwater and so
many different types of wildlife and green exploded inside him, almost stinging
the inside of his nose — like hot spices on fresh taste buds.
He had to lean forward on his thighs to steady himself, his mind reeling,
making him dizzy.
   “I can’t believe it..”
The Alpha within him, quiet up until now, slowly came back to life with him and
he growled happily in the back of Dean’s mind, content now that his world had
been made complete again.
Dean let his nose drag against the apex of his upper arm, inhaling as he went,
scenting the soil still smudged on his body and the warm fragrance of
sandalwood and bergamot he’d been told clung to his skin. He was still confused
but he couldn’t deny the rush of joy that rushed from his stomach to his chest
in a burst of elation like he’d not felt in a long time.
He breathed in, again and again until a completely unconstrained laugh bubbled
up his throat and erupted on his lips. He sank down on the asphalt, letting the
laughter rock his body as he breathed in again and again, putting pieces of
clothing up to his nose to smell, not caring if the scents were pleasant or
not. Sweat, salt, grease and dirt — it was all amazing.
Tears of relief stung at his eyes and he wiped them with a small smile he
allowed himself before he reeled himself back in and went back to the car. He
had a hard time wrapping his head around what had happened but had to stow it
away for later, he had other priorities to tend to.
The car roared angrily as Dean shifted into gear and pushed the gas, the tires
screeching as he continued down the road.
He tried to focus on the more practical questions of who, how and why but the
thought of his brother pressed on against the back of his mind, especially now
(What do you smell like, Sammy?), pushing its way through, and every time he
envisioned his face a sharp tug pulled on his heart making it harder still for
him to breathe. He lost to it, forfeited all the objectively more pressing
thoughts to only one— to find Sam.
His mind felt lighter, clearer as he with determination pushed the old roaring
engine harder. He needed to find his mate, all else could wait, all else had to
wait. And since all Sam’s numbers were disconnected there was only one place he
could go.
***** ~~~~ *****
   “Surprise”
If there was an entry in the encyclopedia about the look on a man’s face who’s
just seen a ghost, Dean was pretty sure a picture of Bobby would be right next
to it.
   “I- I don’t..”
   “Yeah, me neither.. but here I am”
Dean knew it was a shit way to ease the shock, but sarcasm, irony and dark
humour? It was the only tools in his repertoire.
What happened next went so fast Dean had a hard time getting a grip on it.
Normally Bobby wouldn’t stand a chance on him but given the circumstances —
well, Dean had had better days.
They tumbled for a while until Dean got a hold of the silver knife Bobby was
trying to gut him with. He hesitated only a moment before putting the blade to
his own skin and pulled, a line of blood confirming him as being no shifter nor
revenant.
Bobby’s eyes widened in disbelief, hope and uncertainty lighting his face
   “Dean?”

   “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
And then the beta hugged him and Dean felt a quick wisp of relief, the scent of
home, belonging and safe surrounding him. The alpha part of his brain purred in
content as it recognized Bobby as family, pack.
   “It’s… It’s good to see you, boy.”

   “Yeah, you too.”
Bobby did a double take
   “Wait..did you just scent me?”
   “Yeah.. I guess whoever healed me did a bang up job, huh? ”
He was not ready when cold water splashed all over his face. He closed his eyes
against the droplets and sighed
   “I’m not a demon either, you know”
Bobby shrugged sheepishly
   “Sorry.. can’t be too careful”
***** ~~~~~ *****
   “You really oughta fix this old girl up, Bobby, she deserves better”
   “Not everybody have to treat their car like their other half, boy, now quit
your yappin and let’s go”
Dean slid in on the passenger seat of the old familiar Chevrolet Chevelle,
patting the leather seats with a grin
   “Nice to see ya, girl”
It was not like having his old Baby back but it was familiar, something he
sorely needed. He scented the air discreetly before Bobby got in, pleased to
find that it smelled exactly as it had when he was a kid, before the accident,
and that his memories of it hadn’t gotten warped with the years.
They pulled out of the salvage yard and set the course for Pontiac Illinois.
They were quiet for a while, letting the occasional streetlamp light the space
between them and calm their nerves. Then Bobby cleared his throat, scratching
the scruff of his neck
   “What’ya gonna tell him?”
Dean put his foot up on his knee, sliding lower in his seat with a sigh
   “I don’t know, Bobby. I just need to see him”
The silent tension hung thick between them.
   “What will you do if he— “
   “If? What do you mean if, Bobby? Who else could’ve done it?”
He turned his head towards the window, a line of worry and thought creasing his
forehead.
   “But I’ll tell you one thing.. I rather go back to hell than see Sammy ever
put a foot in that place”
Bobby’s eyes widened as he momentarily took his eyes of the road, realisation
dawning on his face as he saw the shudder shaking Dean’s body.
   “Okay, Dean. We’ll fix this.”
It took a while but in the end the weight of his eyelids won and Dean fell into
a restless sleep, unable to fight the exhaustion pulling at him.
He dreamt of his brother, of the 4th of July they spent in a field shooting
fireworks. Sammy jumping and laughing under the colourful sparks raining down
around him. Dean smiled with his whole face as he joined Sammy, lifting him up
in his arms and nuzzled near just below his ear and inhaled deeply. Sam just
laughed, playfully swatting at him.
   “Dean it tickles! Stop! What if Dad catches us?”
Dean just breathed deeper, taking in the warmth of his baby brother.
   “I don’t care, Sammy. Let him see”
All of a sudden the scenery turned cold and grey, a omnious shiver running up
his spine. He ran his nose up under Sam’s ear, breathing in deeply but could
smell nothing there. He jerked away, putting Sam down and backing away. Sam
just stood there silent, watching him with a sad expression on his young face.
Dean woke up with a start.
   “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. We’re just pulling up”
Dean rubbed his face and shook his head for good measure. He looked up at the
tall building outside the car window.
He would finally see Sam.
***** ~~~~ *****
   “ It’s him. It’s him! I’ve been through this already, it’s really him!”
If the situation had been anything but what it was Dean might’ve laughed at the
look on Sam’s face, he always thought the puppy look was at its most
heartwarmingly adorable when he got confused.
   “…what?”
Dean deemed it safe to advance and did so cautiously, slowly with his hands up
like you would a frightened animal.
   “I know, I look fantastic, huh?”
In a blink Sam was in his arms and he could physically feel that last piece of
gaping void inside him close up. They slotted together like nothing else could
ever fit and it was the single most extraordinary thing Dean had ever felt. He
dragged his hands up Sam’s neck and into his hair, brushing, tugging and
pulling at those soft strands of chocolate brown he’d missed— oh, that he’d
missed so much.
Sam was just as eager, not even trying to mask the quiet sobs rocking his body
as his large hands trailed all over Dean as if making sure that his brother was
really there with him, finally safe and warm in his arms.
   “I missed you”, he whispered, pain lacing his voice as he seemed intent on
kissing every freckle on Deans face, counting them, making sure every part of
him was whole.
The whisper was so soft and so broken it nearly cracked Dean’s heart in two. He
pulled back just enough to cradle his brother’s neck with both hands, steadying
him and directing him to look him in the eye. Sam’s eyes were red and wet with
tears, and the corners of his mouth trembled with the effort of trying to smile
through the waves of emotions conflicting and crashing down on him..
   “Never again, Sammy, I’m never leaving you ever again”
And he pulled their faces together, lips connecting in a salty wet kiss that
seemed to melt into his body and race straight to his heart. Sam exhaled
shakily on a smile but his brows were still knitted together.
   “Promise me. Alpha, promise me”
   “My Omega, sweet sweet Omega..I promise”
And then Dean leaned in, let his cheek drag against his brother’s until his
nose was nuzzled up just below Sam’s ear, just like in his dream, and he
breathed in.
He jolted, eyes wide as he jerked back, staring at Sam, eyes filled with
amazement, incomprehension and shock. Sam tried to close the distance Dean had
created between them but he kept him at arm’s length, just staring at him.
   “Dean, what? What? Alpha..what is it?”
The scent of cut grass, lavender and pine wood had hit his nostrils like a
sledgehammer to a concrete wall.
   “Sammy.. “, Dean looked wide-eyed and breathless, chest heaving as he with
shaking hands gripped his brother by his shirt and pulled him closer, inhaling
deeply “You smell like home”
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