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Shoot me

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„Hands up and down to the floor! Hands up!” Dean Winchester was used to hearing that being yelled, but he was always surprised by how long it took for the people to react. These were like two basic instructions.

Maybe he shouldn’t think of people like this, but he had seen so many stupid and mean people that he thought of himself as average. Even if he was working for a man, who called himself the King of Hell, robbing fuel stations for him. At least he had never killed anybody.

They had prepared this one nicely; it should go like clockwork. Two other men and one woman were behind Dean with guns, and one guy was waiting in the car with a running engine. The Winchester was the one to turn towards the cashier like most of the times and make sure he didn’t pull a gun or press an emergency button.

They were in a small Gas’n Sip just out of town and besides the three customers, there were only two people in blue vests present. One woman with blond hair next to the slushy machines and the cashier, of course, a guy, Dean had seen from the outside with dark hair and about his height.

As they stood in front of each other now, for a second, before it all went down for Dean, he noticed that the guy was actually about one or two inches shorter than he was and had stunning blue eyes.

Then he noticed the other’s smell.




That couldn’t be it, Dean tried to think through the thick clouds in his head as he found himself on the floor, head pressed down, knees tight to the chest. He had no idea how he had gotten down there nor how to get up again.

It felt humiliating and probably the others would make fun of him for ages.

“Get up,” a quiet but clear voice commanded from above him. Suddenly his limbs moved as if without his consent, and everything inside of him tingled from the alpha voice the other had used.

As soon as he was upright, Dean looked into bright blue eyes that were wide from shock. Everything else seemed to be exactly like he left it; guns were still being pointed at customers, and even though the others must have seen how he had dropped to the floor, nobody was noticing the hidden conversation between himself and the cashier.

“Grab your gun again and point it at me,” the guy with the blue eyes said in a slow, low voice and Dean did precisely what he said. The other must notice his irritation, he thought until he remembered that only his eyes were visible through the black mask he was wearing.

The alpha scent was still there, and it made everything seem as if in a haze and too bright and in focus at the same time.

Dean took a moment, that he didn’t have, to distinguish between the different layers of the alpha’s smell in front of him. There was definitely something like the smell after heavy rain in the forest and some kind of big, wild field odour.

"What's wrong?" one of the guys behind him suddenly asked, and he sprung back into reality like a spring, that had been tightened for too long.

"Give me all the money," Dean blurted out not nearly as intimidating as he wanted, as he remembered what he was supposed to do. He yearned to facepalm himself because there clearly were more intelligent sounding ways to rob a fuel station.

Why the hell did he care about that all of a sudden?

The alpha in front of Dean started to slowly put all the money from the cash box into a bag after having opened it while looking way too relaxed for a guy being robbed.

It was only five minutes later in the car that Dean started to regain real control of his consciousness again. They were on the roads on their way to an abandoned parking space where two other stolen cars were waiting for them, and one could make out the distant sirens of a police car. And he was finally free of this scent.

Or so he thought.

"Here's the thing Benny," he addressed the driver wiping some sweat off his forehead. This was not good. "You're gonna let me out the next bus stop and follow the rest of the plan without me. Do you understand?"

It started to get hard to keep a steady, demanding voice, but he wouldn't be Dean Winchester if he couldn't manage that.

"Are you sure?" the older man asked, and he had a concerned look on his face Dean didn't like. But he needed to get out of this car before the others could smell him.

Benny stopped as requested, and Dean stumbled out of the car, even if it got him weird looks from his teammates.

The wait for the bus felt like endless torture. The omega knew that he had to change bus at least once to get home from here and he didn't have much time. There he was, standing in the middle of nowhere, just bushes and old grass around him and wondered how he had gotten himself in such a bad situation again.

Because he was going into heat. Even if he had taken all the possible suppressants that were said to make you impotent after time and that were clearly said to prevent from situations like that, he was about to go into heat in the middle of nowhere, two bus rides from the only safe place he knew.

For a second he contemplated hiding in the bushes and just waiting for the end of his heat there, but they could last a few days, and he wouldn't want to be wearing any clothes, as he suddenly heard the bus approach. He hadn't even noticed it before, due to the haze his mind was starting to develop.

"You all right," the bus driver, a man in his fifties with beard covered cheeks and a baseball cap asked as soon as Dean entered.

The omega nodded shortly and hoped that neither the driver nor the five passengers were any knotheads who would approach him inappropriately during the ride.

It was getting rather late, and as Dean seated himself behind the driver, as far as possible from the other passengers, he watched the sun go down above the fields and occasional houses. It would be nice if the fire under his skin wouldn't be driving him mad.

"This is the last station. Ya should be gettin' out here, boy," the driver said, and Dean suddenly noticed, that it was dark and they were alone in the bus.  And that he was shaking.

Damnit he was approaching his heat too fast. He didn't even remember the last twenty minutes or so.

The bus driver, judging from his mostly blocked scent an alpha, suddenly stood in front of him. Wait, shouldn't he be driving the bus? Dean was in such a haze that he apparently hadn't even noticed, that the bus had stopped.

"You alright there?" the bus driver asked, and it seemed as if he was kind of holding his breath. Oh, he must be smelling the heat. That wasn't good, Dean tried to remind himself but the first cramps had started, and it seemed as if it was going to be a bad one.

Big, blue eyes flashed behind his inner eye for a second.

"Yeah, am fine," Dean managed to answer and tried to get up on shaky legs, but the bus driver stopped him.

"How d'ya plan on going home?" the alpha in front of him asked as if he doubted that Dean could even walk ten meters. Who did he think he was? The omega was sure he could kill him with bare hands if needed, even in heat.

"Look, I'll drive you. We're already on a bus. Where do ya wanna be dropped off?" His voice sounded gruff, but friendly at the same time. And Dean didn't have a lot of options left.

After he had told the driver the station he needed to get off, the man just shook his head and got back behind the wheel. He apparently thought Dean wouldn't have made it. He had to admit, that there was maybe a tiny hint of truth in that.

When they stopped, just one block from Dean's apartment the driver tapped his head as a goodbye. The omega was almost out of the door as he turned around the last time.

"I'm Dean, by the way." Assuming that he would never see the man again, he told him his real first time, feeling as if he at least owed that to him.

"Bobby," the alpha replied gruffly, and Dean managed a small smile before leaving.


The heat lasted a week. Dean had never before experienced anything as painful, and he had been held captive and tortured by a rivalling gang for almost a month once.

Every second of it was haunted by these blue eyes, and even afterwards, Dean couldn't get the guy he had threatened with a gun out of his head.

He had waited another day after his heat had ended, just to make sure, before he went back to Crowley. He was confident, that the others, maybe except Benny had bailed on him and told the rather short beta about what had happened in the Gas'nSip, but he wasn't afraid. Crowley needed him.

The meeting point of the Hell's demons was not as well hidden as some of the members sometimes tried to think, but they also weren't particularly dangerous and just flying under the radar of the local police.

Dean entered the shabby looking diner and waved at Benny, who was not only their getaway driver but also an excellent cook.

"You look like shit," the beta shouted after him, and Dean just flipped him off. He hadn't managed to eat or sleep a lot during the last days, and the traces of this neglect of his body still showed.

"Crowley," Dean exclaimed loudly after entering the bug loft above the diner, what made everybody stare at him. He just needed to pretend that nothing could affect him to keep his place in the gang.

Crowley, a man, who was a little short to be a typical beta, but coped with it by wearing black suits and being a ruthless son of a bitch, emerged from his conversation with some higher ranked drug dealers. He mimicked for Dean to follow him into his office, which the omega took as a good sign since the King of Hell usually loved to scold people in front of everybody.

"Where the hell have you been," the beta started, and then shook his head. "Nevermind, I don't care. The better question is, why I had three different people tell me separately that Dean Winchester presented his pretty little ass in the middle of an important heist."

His volume increased during his speech, but Dean knew he was just a colourful guy. If he ever found out, that the omega had him saved as 'Drama Queen' in his phone, he would never hear the end of it.

"It won't happen again," the Winchester just stated, because he was tired and really didn't want to explain the situation. Hell, he didn't even really understand it himself.

"It won't- Yes, of course, it won't happen again." Crowley had started to shout again, and Dean tried to block him out as much as possible. The guy just needed to get it out from time to time but else he was a great boss most of the time. The omega would even almost go as far as calling him a friend, a weird one, but still.

It was the blue-eyed cashier that had invaded his thoughts like the thing in the movie "Alien" had invaded a guys chest. No matter what he tried, he hadn't managed to distract himself from the alpha, so he decided to do what he did best: Less thinking, more action.

He had thought about calling his brother, but the guy was probably very busy with college, and Dean rather liked it to stay that way. Ever since the older Winchester had gotten the other off the gang-path and into the boring, normal college life, he never wanted him to turn around again.

The other thought that kept him from calling his brother was that Sam was a beta and probably knew just as much about this kind of stuff as Dean did. No, he had to deal with it alone, in his own way.


His own way meant, that, after he had been scolded enough by Crowley and had helped some others with the planning of a heist, he wouldn't be part of, he departed to the exact same Gas'nSip he had robbed just over a week ago.

He knew he was being stupid, but he really just wanted to see that face again, one last time, smell that awesome, intoxicating smell.

Instead of taking the bus, which he actually hated a lot, Dean got his beloved Impala from where he had parked it before the last heist, a few blocks away from the diner. It was, besides an old leather jacket, the only possession he had inherited from his old man and he treated it almost like family. Sammy would laugh at him for being sentimental like that, but he wouldn’t mind. There were not a lot of things, his brother didn’t know about him, and he had never felt embarrassed for anything in front of little-not-so-little Sam.

This train of thoughts made the Winchester feel rather lonely as soon as he arrived at the gas station and maybe he would call his only family in the evening, just to make sure the guy was okay.

Observing from the outside, Dean hadn’t been able to detect the blue-eyed guy, and he was usually very good at finding people, so he decided to go inside. He had put all the scent blockers on he could have gathered in the short time, just to make sure nobody smelled anything they had smelled before. Even if he had been on blockers said evening about a week ago as well, so there should be no traces to follow.

What was wrong with him, returning to the crime scene after having robbed the place currently, not even knowing if the guy was even here. Was the chance of prison even worth it?

This was stupid, the guy wasn’t working today, Dean thought, standing at the magazines, browsing. He probably quit after last week.

“Are you finding, what you are looking for?” a dark, gravelly voice suddenly asked from behind him, and Dean could have sworn his heart had just stopped for a second, only to return to its work at double speed.

He turned around slowly, noticing the scent first, which was still as amazing as it had been a week ago. It infiltrated his brain like a drug he hadn’t known he was addicted to. Then he stared into bright blue eyes, and it was as if the world around them had paused for a moment, just like it had during the robbery. At least he wasn’t on the floor this time.

“Can I help you?” Dean asked because there was no way the other could have recognised him since he had been disguised and always wore scent blockers-

“Don’t play stupid, I can smell your scent,” the other replied and looked rather irritated than angry. He had his head crooked to the side as if trying to look inside of Deans soul and his calmness stood in contrast to their situation.

“That’s not possible,” Dean rather whispered than said and looked down at his hands to recollect his thoughts. He had a magazine gripped tight in his fist and noticed that it was the latest ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ edition when he unfolded it. He tried to breathe shallowly to get his brain unclouded.

The blue-eyed alpha, who had followed his movements, apparently with great interest seemed to take a deep breath.

“I can smell that you’re using scent blockers, they kind of dim the intensity of your scent, but it’s still… intoxicating.” At these words, Dean looked up again, because that meant, his scent had a similar effect to the other as it was the other way around and this made his inner omega purr.

But he didn’t want to purr. This guy knew who he was and that the police was probably searching for him, so he shouldn’t stand around and talk with him but go.

“I have to-“ Dean started and motioned towards the cash register with the pornographic magazine still in his hand. This was not embarrassing at all.

“You don’t know what it means,” the blue-eyed guy stated as Dean tried to turn around and kept him in place with this intense stare of his.

“What means what?” Dean was now wholly confused. He had been determined to go, but this weird, attractive stranger seemed to know something he didn't possess the knowledge of that was affecting him.

"Being able to scent each other despite scent blockers, the presenting before, the rut..." The other trailed off, and Dean looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. To his relieve, beside him there was only one customer present.

"You went into rut?" Dean asked in a low tone and watched the others irritated facial expression shift into a disbelieving one.

"That- that is what you caught from that?" The others scent started to smell more and more like frustration, and everything in Dean screamed at him to do anything to please his alpha. Wait, his alpha? Where had that come from?

"Have you ever heard of 'True Mates'?" the alpha asked and Dean almost grinned because of air quotes and all. Then he remembered the question required an answer, and he shook his head and nodded at the same time.

Because, of course, he had heard about it, but there was no way...

"It's a mostly biological thing, I think," the dark-haired man continues with furrowed brows at Dean's vague answer. "It happens when two people, an alpha and an omega fit together perfectly by nature and their bodies react to it without their conscious consent."

"I- I know." Dean suddenly felt stupid with the magazine still in his hands and his high-school-dropout knowledge.

There was no way this guy could be his perfect match, hell, there was no way he could be the perfect match for anybody. He knew he was nice for an occasional one night stand, but he was sure nobody would want to be bonded to him for life.

"That means if that were true, you would have been the reason for this awful, long heat," Dean said as realisation swapped over him like a big wave, and he regretted saying the words out loud, the moment he was finished speaking. Damn him, and his first act then think scheme.

The guy in the blue vest seemed to lose his composure for a second before regaining it.

"I'm sorry, that it was awful," the alpha said, and it seemed as if he meant it. His eyes were full of remorse and guilt, but Dean was glad he couldn't detect any pity in them nor in the other's scent. He had spent a lot of his life being pitied by others, and he couldn't say it was something he liked.

"Nah, it's alright," the omega said because he didn't know what else to do under the intense stare of the other. Did the guy even blink for once?

"My name is Castiel," the gorgeous, blue-eyed alpha suddenly said after a moment of silence.

"Dean," the omega said without thinking and immediately scrunched up his face. He had told his real first name, and that was dangerous. Everything about him was dangerous for the other.

He needed to get away from this intoxicating scent. He needed to think.

"I- need to go," Dean mumbled and turned around, just to remember that he still held the scrunched-up magazine. He took a short breath and walked over to the cash register to pay for it. Of course, he added some beef jerky and some mints; he didn't want to be viewed as a creep.

The alpha named Castiel caught up with him as soon as he left the shop and he had to admit that a tiny part of him would have been disappointed if he hadn't.

"Dean," Castiel said unnecessarily because of course, the addressed had smelled him already. The fresh air outside thinned the scent at least a little bit out, and Dean decided to ignore the other in favour of getting to his car.

He needed to think, and it was probably also the time to call his brother.

"Wait, Dean," the alpha said again and apparently tried to stop him by holding onto his arm. That was the worst idea he could have had however because only seconds later he was pressed face first to the side of the next building, where the security cameras couldn't reach them anymore and had a knife to his throat.

Dean realised his own mistake only a moment later. In their new position, he was twisting the alphas arm behind him and had his whole body pressed against the other's back, in a way that was supposed to show dominance. Right now it just brought Deans nose as close as physically possible to the origin of the most wonderful and mind-clouding scent he had ever smelled in his life, namely Castiel's scent glands.

The omega couldn't help himself; he took a deep, long breath.

Everything in himself screamed at him and went wonderfully quiet at the same time. Alpha. Mate. Home. Submit.

It was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced, and at the same time, he tried to fight back as much as possible, because this guy, Castiel, didn't deserve all the crap that was Dean Winchester's life.

Dean lowered the knife as if in a trance and noticed how his own aroused scent, now clearly in the open, mixed with the other's. He wondered why Castiel didn't smell frightened just after having been threatened by a knife, but his mind started to cloud over again anyways.

"Can I- can I call you Cas?" Dean asked, feeling slightly flustered. "You know, Castiel is kind of a mouthful." He felt Cas nodd and suddenly noticed that they were still in an awkward position, even if held loosely.

"Sorry," Dean muttered as he stepped backwards. "Don't like to be touched."

Actually, he wanted the other to touch him very, very badly. That was not good. The omega licked his lips unconsciously and stepped another step back, even if everything inside of him urged him to get closer to his alpha.

Cas lifted his hands in a soothing manner and waves of calmness ebbed through his scent over to Dean. "I won't hurt you," he said as if it hadn't been him pressed to the wall just seconds ago.

"As if you could," Dean countered and smiled a little involuntary. He could see that the other wanted to talk about something, but he needed air to think.

"I need some time." Dean licked his lips again and could taste the alpha as he drew a deep breath through his mouth. "I need to think about this, maybe google some, ya know?"

Cas nodded as if he didn't really want to but to continue their talk.

"And I need you not to tell anybody about me. I mean the stuff with the, you know." He lowered his voice. "Robbery and so on."

"If that is what you want, Dean," Cas replied and did this soul-scratching staring thing again. "Maybe, I can give you my phone number, in case you would like to talk sometime or maybe text. I like texting."

Dean almost grinned for a second at how adorable the other was and how much he didn't fit the (very outdated) cliché of a strong, self-confident alpha. But Dean didn't fit the omega clichés as well, so who cared.

After a second of searching his body, Dean just offered his magazine to Cas and could see how the other tried to suppress a smile as he scribbled the digits on it, with a pen he had emerged from his vest pocket. He has beautiful handwriting, the Winchester noticed as Cas ended just above the right boob of the girl on the cover.

They smiled, waved awkwardly at each other as they said their goodbyes and Dean wandered off to his car. He really needed to talk to somebody now.