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Love Bites

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May 25, 1999


The alleyway beside the diner was dark and nearly abandoned; plumes of smoke rose from Gordon Walker’s cigarette. Shadows flickered in the dying streetlight, stretching themselves forlornly up the graffiti-littered walls. A single female alpha came into the alley, laughing drunkenly. He could practically smell the alcohol on her breath. She dragged a young woman in with her, the sleeve of her flouncy blouse tearing as they did so.

Omega, if her scent was anything to go by. When an omega senses that they’re in danger, the scent glands on their wrist and junctures on the neck go into a frenzy, alerting any nearby alpha that they’re in danger. Gordon, a beta, knows that if he doesn’t intervene soon, she’ll do what most omegas are prone to do when it’s apparent another alpha isn’t going to show up – Submit.

"Come here, pretty lady," The alpha said, adjusting her skintight skirt as she pulled the omega closer, "You don't wanna be leavin' just yet."

The woman was crying; pleading, "Please, please. Don't hurt me. I-I’ll do anything,” He heard a gentle shushing and her cries became hysterical sobs,” God, please, no... Please. Please! Don’t do this...”

The woman puts a hand over her mouth and shushes her once more. “Don’t make a sound, not a damn sound,” She hisses softly,” I’m going to remove my hand, and when I do, I want you to do as I say. You tilt your head to the side, open your legs, and submit like the omega bitch you are. Do you understand?”

The woman nods tearfully, and the hand pulls away from her mouth. She takes a shaking breath, before tilting her neck to the side and closing her eyes tightly. Having heard enough, Gordon came out of the shadows. He brought his foot to the alpha’s neck, just below the chin. She sputtered and stumbled back. The beta then balled his free hand into a fist and struck her in the stomach. That did it. Half-conscious, she fell against the wall and breathed heavily.

An exit was now provided for the young woman. Gordon quickly helped her to her feet, which was like hauling a statue into place. She was frozen, staring at him in fear and shock. She reeked of burning toast as she begins crying again, her scent responding to the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling.

She was leaning her neck to the side in submission, even as he began to push her forward.

"Go!" Gordon barks.

She hesitated, but when he gave her a rough shove, she took off running. He smiled inwardly. Now it was all simple, really. He turned to look at the alpha who was beginning to shakily stand.

The alpha woman was dressed casually, but smartly wore jeans, a hipster jacket, and a neck scarf. Her face was made up, but not over done and her long black hair was pulled back into a pony-tail. In one hand she still held a nearly empty bottle of beer, which she downed in a second as she fully stood. She wiped her mouth on the corner of her sleeve, then dropped her arm down to her side exposing her mouth. That little rise in the corner of her mouth, combined with the cool detachment in her eyes sealed her fate. Not only had she attempted to rape an omega in the back of some damn alley, but it was giving her inner delight. She was savoring the moment.

She popped her knuckles and her neck at the same time. “Listen, asshole,” She says,” You have no idea who the hell you’re messing with. So, I suggest you take a big step back, and go fuck yourself! Or…I’ll simply tell you to, and then you will!”

A grin tugged at one side of the beta’s mouth,” Trust me, I know who you are. I’ve been looking for you a long time,” He smirked, and a blade flashed in the moonlight, the top pointing towards the alpha,” And your powers won’t work on me, so don’t even try it.”

She threw her head back and cackled; not taking him seriously at all. In any normal situation, Gordon wouldn't have cared. All these psychics were the same. But something was different now. A dark grin passed across his lips. The handle of the blade was bound with black leather, the hilt decorated yet understated, and the blade was short. The hilt had a single symbol on it; the African Adinkra symbol of mind.

With a yelp, she was slammed against the wall. "Hey, what are you doin', asshole?" In the dark, she couldn't see his face, but no fear at all was visible on her features,” Look, how about you let me go and I stay out of that pretty head of yours, okay?”

It meant nothing to him. "How about you get on your knees and pray for mercy,” He suggested,” I think that in your situation, that would be the wisest thing to do.”

"What,” She snorted,” Oh, you have got to be smokin' some kind of nasty shit, pal, if you think I'll be doing that,” The beta brought his knife into the light as a warning. And she cackled again, her spittle landing in his face,” What are ya gonna do with that? Make a sandwich? How about this — Get that knife and drive it through your own stomach.”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed, while hers widened.

“H-how in the hell did you do that...? Are you fuckin’ deaf, pal? Drive that knife through your fuckin’ stomach! Do it, now!” She’s breathing heavily, and her eyes are wide as saucers as she chokes out,” No one… No one can do that. No one can just fuckin’ ignore me. You have to – “She begins to struggle and tries to pull away.

Before she could get a toe out into the light of the streets, the beta grabbed her shirt and pulled her back in, shoving her harder against the wall while snapping her wrist. Crying out, she ceased her struggling. He covered her mouth and brought his cold brown eyes inches from hers. Now she was silent. His appearance was startling, but he could tell she still had other thoughts.

“I gave you an option," Gordon snarls, “You should've taken it. But if you will not pray for your damned soul, I will. Lord Jesus Christ, you have taught us to be merciful like the heavenly Father and have told us that whoever sees you sees Him. Show us your face and we will be saved. Your loving gaze freed Zacchaeus and Matthew from being enslaved by money — “

Her mouth moved beneath his hand but was unable to utter a sound higher than that of a cat playing in the garbage. He grinned darkly and moved his mouth next to her ear. "Has anyone ever told you that the choices you make determine the outcome of your life? That you better start making the right ones or something bad will happen to you,” He whispered,” This is what they mean, Devil’s scum. You had the Lord’s power, and you used it for evil, rather than good. Now you will pay.”

And with one thrust, he drove his knife through her abdomen. She screamed, but he gripped her face tighter, drowning it out. She clawed at his hand and he took the blade out and slammed her head against the wall, disorienting her. And he held her like that in the dark, careful of anyone who might pass by, waiting until her breath stopped and her pulse grew silent beneath his fingertips. Stepping away, he held her limp form for a moment.

He continued to pray, for the damned soul in his arms,”—the adulteress and Magdalene from seeking happiness only in created things; made Peter weep after his betrayal, and assured Paradise to the repentant thief. Let us hear, as if addressed to each one of us, the words that you spoke to the Samaritan woman:’If you knew the gift of God!’”



May 27, 1999



The traffic snaked up the hill, two lines of steel and tire, all bathed in their own putrid fumes a hundred hands reached forwards in unison to turn their air-flow to internal circulation only. In each self-contained world a radio told stories, sung, or sold products to the citizens, some talked on cell phones or texted. In the upscale minivans the children gaped at movies barely noticing the scream of sirens from behind and the ambulance driving rapidly into the oncoming traffic which veered to the curb. It was just another day on the road.

Dean Winchester emits a sigh of relief as the traffic moves, pressing in a cassette as a celebratory gesture. Tears For Fears “Head Over Heels” blasts through the 1967 Chevy Impala’s speakers as he mouths the words with much gusto. He drums his hands against the steering wheel as his neck cranes forwards and backwards to the rhythm; John Winchester would no doubt be seething if he’d been riding shotgun, emitting ridiculous claims of “reckless driving” or “endangerment of civilians”.

As he continues driving, he takes notice of a medium seized black charger, the hood was up and billows of silver-grey smoke curled and danced through the thick, heated summer air. A white cloth on the car’s hood strut flutters violently in the wind. It was cute on the city streets but here on the highway it moves so quickly and noisily that Dean wonders if it might break away from it. His mind made up, he turns the steering wheel and parks in front of the car, ready to aid the owner with his years of experience dealing with car engines.

Dean smoothed his leather jacket down and tugged on his collar to pop it up a little. “Hey, man, having car issues?” Dean offers to the owner’s backside, only seeing the back of a pair of faded jeans. The car owner sits up from the car’s hood, extending his body to a staggering height that made Dean straighten his back to try and measure up to him.

From the behind, it was a young man in faded blue jeans and a tight white v-neck shirt that showed off his muscular back. He was running a dirty cloth over his hands, a wrench under his arm, apparently attempting to work at the smoking engine. However, he seemed to be having more difficulty with the task than one would expect. His skin was pale and glistening with sweat.

Then, abruptly, the breeze shifted. The scent of full, ripe omega hit the hunter hard. His nostrils flared, and he felt his whole body stiffen involuntarily. As a full-blooded alpha, he wasn't used to losing control of himself like that; it scared him, the few times it happened. The omega turned and looked at Dean, and absent mindedly the alpha noted that he smelled of pine and sweet spearmint.

“Oh,” The young man said, offering a shy smile,” Sorry. I didn’t realize there was any one here.”

This young man of staggering height had a lean, yet muscular frame. Against his tan skin, his hair was a deep brown that reached his mid neck, yet on any other it would be middling-to-fair height. Dean stares at the young man indecrously. Never before he he seen such a masculine male omega, most were stereotypically petite, light-weighted. The stranger’s smile started to waver, obviously unsettled by all the staring the hunter was doing.

An alpha giving an unmated omega heart-eyes was never a good sign. At least not for the omega if they chose to remain unmated. The mouthwatering scent of pine and sweet spearmint waivered, and another smell began to seep into his nostrils. The young man suddenly reeked of burning leaves, signaling that he was likely drawing that very conclusion. The omega looks into his eyes, but instead of a soft gaze, his eyes glared with an intensity that tightened the alpha’s chest. Then, just like that, his eyes softened once more, and his former scent returned.

“You didn’t have to pull over like that. It was nice of you, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got this hand- “The engine clanged, a sound resembling a toddler banging a wooden spoon over pots and pans escaping it, and another plume of smoke seeped out,”-led.”

Dean cleared his throat and replied,” It’s fine, really. I can see it was more than necessary. Do you, uh, need any help or…” He clears his throat again, offering his own friendly smile as he offers a hand,” I’m Dean, uh, Dean Winchester by the way.”

The latter took his hand in a firm grip and shook it,” I’m Sam Singer. And yes, I would really appreciate some help,” He laughs running a hand through his hair,” In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly handy with cars.”

“Not everyone is. Hell, it took me years to get any good,” Dean affirms taking a spot at the hood. Reaching over, Dean extracted the wrench from Sam's grasp, and before the young man’s heart had time to drop out of his chest, he had slid closer to the car and was going through an open tool box on top.

“So, are you?” Sam questions with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Am I what?”

“Any good?”

Dean chuckles lightly and sits up from the hood,” Tell you what, Sam Singer,” He holds up a roll of exhaust tape, shaking it for emphasis,” If I can fix your car in less than five minutes, you have to treat me to lunch. Seeing as I’m new to Sioux Falls, I haven’t had the chance to try any of the town’s fine cuisine.”

“The local diner has the best pie in town, hands down,” Sam brags,” Do you like pie?”

Dean sends a wink Sam’s way before setting to work. He locates the exhaust leak and starts scrubbing the area with a square of sand paper. He wipes the sanded area down with a rag soaked in acetone, before determining that the hole needs to be sealed with a patch. Tearing off a piece of exhaust tape with his teeth, he wraps it tightly around the hole and turns to Sam with a smirk.

“Start the engine,” The hunter orders, pointing at the driver-side of the car.

Sam nods and puts his keys in the ignition, turning them and the engine sputters to life. The omega leans his head out the window, and gawks at the alpha in front of him—No smoke in sight. Dean grins as he waltzes towards the open window, he leans down propping his elbows on the sides as he leans in close to the latter’s face.

“I do believe you owe me lunch,” Dean points at the young man as he grins,” And we’re definitely going to get me some pie, a tribute for my demanding work, Sammy.”

“Sammy?” Sam said, ducking his head down with an embarrassed blush.

“Is it okay? For me to call you that?” Dean asked.

“A bit weird,” Sam responded honestly, “Sounds like a chubby twelve-year-old, but it’s fine, I guess,” He exits his vehicle and goes to stand beside the alpha, crossing his arms over his chest as he does so,” I may get my old man to come tow my car. I don’t trust a stranger’s work enough to drive it again, no offense, not until he checks it out.”

Dean shrugs,” None taken. If some stranger laid a hand on Baby, I wouldn’t exactly be trusting either,” He smiles as he says,” We can take her for a spin, and you can show me this pie joint you keep bragging about. Maybe, just maybe, we won’t be strangers anymore, huh?”

“Alright,” The omega agrees, “Do you mind if I put my tool box in the trunk?”

“Not at all,” Dean states opening the trunk for him, before stiffening on the spot. The Impala's trunk contains a massive arsenal of weapons, all customized for fighting things that go ‘bump’ in the night. There are diverse types of: Handguns, shotguns, rifles, knives, stakes, holy water, gasoline, and a shit ton of salt. There are also several types of ammunition including silver, iron, and rock salt shells as well as standard bullets for every weapon. All of this was normal, to Dean, who was hunter. But to a young man who also happened to be an unmated omega this had to look very, unbelievably bad.

“Okay, so this looks bad, but just let me – “

“You’re a hunter,” Sam states nonchalantly, and sets his tool box on top of the arsenal.

“Wait, are you – “Dean motions to the trunk.

“Me? Uh, no,” The omega denies with a shake of his head, “You do realize that this town, is a hunting town, right?” Seeing the alpha’s blank look, he sighs and explains, “A hunting town is pretty much like it sounds – Nearly everyone in town is either a hunter, is the kid of hunter, knows a hunter, knows about hunting, etc. And seeing as you’re a hunter, too, I’m guessing you’re here for the same reason everyone else is.”

Dean nods in understanding, and states, “The manhunt for Gordon Walker. My dad and I came together; neither of us have ever been his biggest fan, so we’re all too happy to help.”

“You and every other hunter in this damn town,” Sam says with a nod, “I’ve never actually met the guy, so I can’t say the same thing. I’ve only heard rumors, but what he’s doing now…Come on, I still owe you lunch. The meeting isn’t for another three hours, so we’ve still got time.”

“Meeting? You know about the meeting,” The alpha gives him a shit-eating grin, and chatters on, “Maybe we could sit next to one another – Hold hands? Play a little footsie?”

“You come on pretty strong, even for an alpha,” The omega replies with a cheeky smile.

“What can I say? It’s in my nature.”



There is a sign posted on the front door of the small diner. Originally called Double D’s Diner, it went out of business in the early 80’s and sat there until the second owners rolled in, and it was renamed: Harvelle’s Diner. The sign’s chipping royal blue paint glistening in the golden rays of the afternoon. Dean can still see the early morning rain drops that cling, jewel-like to the name. And taped to the window: ‘Best Pie in North Dakota!’. Dean would be the one to test that.

It was 12:03 in the afternoon, so the two were far from first to arrive. This diner had the classical checkered floor pattern and the walls were a pale blue with booths and tables that matched it. It was a small place, but it looked well-cleaned and the plates from the customers they passed looked above-average to your usual small-town diner meal. The lunch rush had just begun so they had few options for sitting. For privacy’s sake Dean sat at a booth in the back, and Sam sat across from him.

Their waitress is an older woman with dish-water blonde hair that’s greying at the parting. She greets Sam with a friendly smile and leans over to whisper something in his ear. The omega smiles ever so slightly, and nods patting her arm as she pulls away. She straightens up, takes out her ticket book from her apron, and asks for both of their drink orders.

“Um, a Diet Coke, Pam,” Sam states.

Pam scribbles that down and turns to Dean. “And for you, sweetie?”

“Coffee. Black,” Dean grunts.

“Coffee in the afternoon?”

Dean shrugged nonchalantly,” It’s that kinda day.”

“Whatever just give me a few minutes to brew a fresh pot,” The waitress replies with a shrug.

With that Pam left and went through the door opposite them, which led to the kitchen. Dean settled for looking at a taped off spot in the alleyway across the street as he waited for his coffee. From here he could actually see where the latest psychic had died. The area was still taped off seeing as the forensic investigators had not thoroughly combed the place for evidence. That’s how it appeared to the average person, at least.

Sam followed the alpha’s gaze and murmurs, “Say what you will about Gordon Walker, but killing a psychic in a hunting town,” He shakes his head and begins fidgeting with his silverware, “That’s a challenge right there.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees.

“So, did you ever meet him? Gordon, I mean.”

“We did a job together once,” The alpha confirms, glancing over the menu, “Let’s just say there’s a reason there’s a hell of a lot of people that aren’t willing to work with him. That guy, there’s always been something off about him, but – I don’t think anyone saw this coming.”

The omega places his silverware back down on his napkin and he lets out a deep sigh. His gaze returns to the taped off area outside, and his lips part ever so slightly, before he closes them again. Then, just as his scent begins take on a smokier smell the light over their table begins to flicker. Dean doesn’t just see the bulb flicker, he hears it too. As the two of them are cast into brief spells of partial darkness, it crackles, or perhaps it’s more of a buzz.

Pam comes over with the drinks, and hastily sets Dean’s drink in front of him, before gently patting Sam’s hand to get his attention. The light overhead stops flickering, and Sam tears his gaze away from the window with a grunt. The waitress places his soda in front of him, and then sets a folded-up newspaper beside him. She points at the very front page, her mouth a thin line, and then pulls out her ticket book to take their food orders.

“I’m guessing that it’ll be the usual for you, Sam. And what about you, sweetie?”

“He’ll have the bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon if you don’t mind, with fries, a vanilla milkshake and a slice of apple pie,” Sam answers with a friendly smile, passing back their menus,” Oh, and on that pie just a dollop of whipped cream.”

Dean stared at the latter in awe, and after a second or two, he nods to confirm his order. Pam scribbles it down and leaves with nothing else but a smirk. Then the alpha feels his lips stretch wide into a gaping grin and his eyebrows arch for the sky. Sam saw the giddy astonishment register on his face before he could hide it. A small smile played on the omega’s lips, he guesses he gets that a lot.

“How in the hell did you do that?”


Dean chuckles, and leans closer as he says, “I’ll say so,” He wraps his fingers around his coffee mug, enjoying the heat that spreads through his hands, “So, what next? Are you going to whip out a deck of cards? Maybe pull a rabbit from your ass?”

“Shut up,” Sam says, taking a sip from his soda, before flipping open the newspaper. The omega’s eyes skim over the front page, before he slaps it back down on the table with a paler face and a frown. Then he proceeds to change the subject, before the alpha can question him, “So, do you do anything besides hunting or…is it a full-time gig for you?”

“Mostly, but sometimes when we stop in towns for longer than a few weeks, I’ll take a mechanic job or any kind of handy work that’s open. I can always use the extra cash,” Dean replies, “What about you? You say that you don’t hunt, but you seem to at least know what’s going in the hunting community.”

The omega sighs, and explains, “My dad is a hunter, and he raised me to hunt from an early age, but it didn’t work out. I still try and keep up to date with what’s going on, and I still help other hunters research their cases, but- “He licks his lips, and continues,”-I’m going off to college soon, so I can’t exactly…you know? I graduated early this year, and I got accepted to Stanford.”

“Stanford?” The alpha questions in surprise, “Not to be rude or anything, but isn’t that an alpha dominate college? Sam, you do realize that as an unmated omega – “

“I know,” Sam says, “It’s pretty damn stupid on my part. But this is my dream college, and the fact that I got accepted at all, despite my biology…I can’t quit and go to some other damn ‘proper’ omega school. I mean what would that say about me?”

“I get it, I do,” Dean starts.


“Nothing. Nothing, its none of my business, anyway,” The alpha utters at last, “But I think it’s pretty damn awesome that you want to go to a high-up college like that. I say if that’s what you want to do, then you do it, and not give a damn what anyone else thinks. As long as you don’t be an idiot, okay?”

The omega stares at the latter for a second, his eyes reading the alpha like a thick novel. “I’ll try not to be, but I can’t promise anything,” He says softly after a moment.

“That’s all I ask.”

Their waitress is back, but not with Dean’s warm reception, seeing as she does not have his food. She sets down a plastic cup full of greens and a small container of blue-cheese dressing. Sam was pouring the dressing into the plastic cup, before putting the top back on and shaking it. After a good twenty seconds he takes off the top and stabs his fork into the greens. Dean stares at the him in disbelief, and the latter caught his gaze. Fork still in his mouth, the omega raised a brow.

“You come to a diner,” Dean motions to the cup, and then jabs his finger against the plastic label for emphasis,” And order a health quake shake? What the hell is that anyway?”

Sam laughs, swallowing his mouthful of food,” It’s a fast and convenient way to eat salad,” He laughs again, pointing to a middle-aged woman behind the counter,” Mrs. Harvelle orders them special for me. I’m kind of a health-nut.”

Dean grins, and pulls a pen from his jacket, presses the tip against his tongue, and then he begins scribbling on his napkin. “Here,” He skids it across the table, his lips drawn into a smirk,” Read it.”

“It says…it’s a prescription for a pair of testicles,” Sam rolls his eyes, and balls up the napkin, before tossing it at the latter,” Ha, ha, ha. Real mature, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean had somehow managed to lean in closer, so close that he’s practically laying over the table. Sam’s cheeks redden every so slightly, and he glances away. The alpha inches his hand forward, about to settle it on the omega’s on the table. But just as his fingers barely graze the latter’s, their waitress is back again with a tray full of food.

“Bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon, fries, and a vanilla milkshake. Oh, and a slice of apple pie with just a dollop of whipped cream,” Pam lists off as she lowers down the tray.

Dean pulls away his hand, and clears his throat awkwardly as he utters a reply,”Yeah, right here, ma’am,” As soon as his food is settled on the table he grabs the bottle of ketchup and gives it a few slaps on the bottom, shaking it roughly, before he squirts a hefty amount on his plate,”See, Sammy, I can teach you a few things about good eating. This here is a cheeseburger. A sizzling whole beef patty nestled in crunchy green lettuce, a large, ripe tomato slice, a piece of tasty American cheese and two soft buns. All topped off with just the right amount of grease that seeps on your fingers as you take a mouthful – Do you want a broken jaw?”

Sam looked up with an innocent expression on his face, but his fingers still have a few fries pinched between them. Almost as if challenging the alpha, he slowly raised the fries to his mouth, and slid them inside tantalizingly slow. And after a moment he began to chew them in slow motion, before swallowing them with an exaggerated ‘gulp’ and letting out a loud, appreciative moan. Then the omega takes another fry and sticks half of it in his mouth, letting the rest dangle out teasingly. Dean surges forward, taking the rest of the fry with a single bite, but as he does so their dry lips brush for a brief moment.

Sam was mortified, frozen to the spot. He couldn't believe that had happened, and in front of everybody too. Dean hadn’t quite meant for it to go that way; the omega could tell by the look of mild shock on his face and by his cheeks that flushed the lightest shade of pink. The alpha gave him an apologetic smile and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he plucked another straw from the dispenser on the far side of the table and stuck it in on the opposite side of where his straw was in his milkshake.

“Truce,” Dean questions, sliding the glass to the middle of the table. He leans forward and takes a sip from his straw, tempting the latter.

Sam rolls his eyes playfully, and takes his own straw, to take a tiny sip. “Truce.”

The glass door swung open, and three young men stepped in, the one in the front’s eyes searching the diner, before they settle on Sam. The young man that’s front and center has dirty-blonde hair and eyes that are light blue, framed by graceful brows. His skin is slightly tanned, and he has prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin and nose. Under his many layers, muscles ripple across his body. Dean takes a cautionary sniff, and his assumptions are confirmed: Alpha.

The young man motions for the other two to stay behind, and they obey stepping outside. Neither of the two emitted any kind of scent, so he assumed that they were betas. The alpha makes his way towards their table, until he’s standing right in front of them. His face moved a little too slowly, as he were taking in the surroundings more than anyone else. Then he grinned. As he did so it felt as if the temperature of the room fell a little.

“Sam,” The alpha greets, his hand settling in the table a few inches from the omega’s hand.

“Hi, Brady,” Sam says in return, his face a neutral expression,” Back from that hunt in Dickinson so soon?”

The alpha, Brady, shrugs as he states,” It ended up being almost too easy. It was just a a low-powered witch that didn’t know how to cover her damn tracks. A couple of witch-killing bullets and it was over,” He licks his lips, and his smile broadens,” So, have you thought about my offer?”

“O-offer,” Sam stutters out,” Oh, that. Brady, I already told you – Your offer is kind, but I can handle myself. I have no wish to be mated right now.”

Brady chuckles deeply as he replies,” I hate to tell you, sugar, but Stanford is an alpha dominant college. If you go up there unmated, well, eventually you’re going to end up drugged and hog tied by some fucking horny alpha. And we don’t want that, do we?”

“Brady,” The omega hisses,” I told you, I can take care of myself. And besides if I remember correctly, you’re the one who ended things between us in the first place. Now back off!”

The alpha snorts, and grits out,” Or what? You think your new boy-toy is going to stand up for you? Does he even know what he’s committing himself to, mating something like you,” His lips slip into an easy grin,” He ain’t going to have no interest in knotting you, when he figures that out. He can’t protect you, sugar. And no one else is willing to, accept me, of course. So, I’d rethink that if I were you.”

Dean is rising from the booth, teeth bared in warning as a low growl rises from his throat. Sam glances over at him, his eyes pleading. The alpha stays standing, but he doesn’t make any move to attack. The omega shoots him a brief grateful smile, before turning to the other alpha.

“I’ve said it over and over again, but I’ll say it once last time. And maybe this time it’ll go through your thick skull,” Sam responds coolly, his eyes narrowing dangerously,” I don’t need your protection or anyone else’s. I can take care of myself. Now, back the fuck off, knothead!”

Brady ignores Sam’s warning, and lets out a low chuckle. “Wow, Sammy. You keep saying that, even with Gordon running around with a few screws loose,” He states, swooping in close to him, so close that the omega can feel his hot breath against his neck,” If you want to end up a rotting, bloated corpse in the back of an alleyway just like the rest of them… that’s your deal. See if I’ll give a damn, see if anyone will. You’re just another omega, another thing to knot, to breed – There’s plenty of you.” 

“Go!” Dean barks out, slamming his fist against their table,” Get the hell out now!”

Brady disregards him, doesn’t even look in his direction as he stretches his hand out. His fingers barely graze the omega’s cheek, but before the alpha can even let out the breath he was holding, nearly every single man and woman in the diner was standing. Most of them had raised their shirts or pulled aside their jackets to reveal some form of a weapon tucked safely. Even the owner, Ellen Harvelle, slapped down a shotgun on the glass pie display case.

“Every single grunt in here is a damn hunter, all friends of his daddy’s. You sure that’s the smartest thing to do,” Ellen snarls, keeping a hand on her shotgun,” If you lay another finger on that boy, we’ll kill you dead and make it look like a fucking accident! You hear me Tyson Brady?”

Brady scoffs, and growls out,” So that’s how it is, huh? Fine then, I’ll back off,” He backs a few feet away, his hands held mockingly in the air,” But, that damn fucker is going to end up gutted in the alleyway, just like the rest of those freaks. You’ll see. Ol’ Gordon will take care of him, far before I can get my hands on him.” And then he goes outside, the door slamming behind him.

Sam lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his eyes wide. Dean is still standing, his jawline taut and his eyes flashing with indignance and anger, much like lightning on a pitch-black night. The omega slowly turned to the alpha in front him, and he saw his curling fists, he felt the heat that radiated from his skin. The omega opened his mouth to say something, but the latter was already far beyond reasoning. A low growl built in the alpha’s throat and he slammed his fist onto the table, before practically stomping outside.

Chapter Text

 The other alphas in the diner hooted and hollered in encouragement and crowded towards the windows to watch the inevitable exchange of fists. The betas as in most situations involving alphas being alphas, just roll their eyes and keep their attention on their food and drinks. The mated omegas stick by their respective alpha’s sides, but the unmated ones quickly go for the exit. One of the few female alphas in the diner, Ellen Harvelle, scoffs and picks up the phone from the counter and declares that she’s calling the police.

 As soon as both Dean and Brady saw each other, the two alphas immediately dove towards each other. There was a crack of flesh against flesh and a resounding thud, which had Sam’s heart racing. The entire fight went in a blur. Brady’s backhand turned into a block, and Dean grabbed the offered hand and yanked the latter off balance. Then he rolled to dodge another punch. Dean sent a sloppy kick that left him open to a kick in the stomach, and then an elbow catching his side that sent him sprawling on the floor. As he pushed himself back up, he growled and rubbed his jaw where he'd hit the concrete.

Dean slammed his head into the other alpha’s and screamed as he saw red before his eyes and the other alpha was the running target. He heard Sam shout his name, but to no use as his already clouded mind only wanted to see this other alpha beat up and implore on his feet before himself. Stalling a left kick which he had thrown at him, Brady wouldn't attack again, seeing as he still kept his defense position heavy and steady. Dean was about to attack again, his teeth gritted, and his fists raised. But that moment he had been craving came abruptly to an end as he suddenly felt two arms around his upper body pulling him away from Brady.

Sam is holding him tight against his own body, and he’s pleading, “Dean! Enough! He’s down. He’s down!”

Dean is breathing heavily, heaving, as he begins struggling against the arms holding him place. Sam stubbornly holds him tighter, that is until two of Brady’s friends pull him from his grip. Brady stands up with wobbling legs, brushing his hand over his mouth as he turns to the other alpha. Now it’s three on one, likely to be over in a bloody flash and then they can go back to their quarry. Not to kill him, but to use him as an example, he's slightly older and an extraordinarily strong alpha after all. Loud cracking of bones, boots scratching over the asphalt, and then they finally managed to get Dean pinned against a car. With his two cronies keeping him pinned down, the other alpha balls his hand into a fist and begins a heavy onslaught of hits. In seconds, the alpha’s face is covered in blood, his nose is bent, his eyebrows and his lip splits open.

As Dean was about to sag down over the heavy assault, he felt the two sets of hands that were pinning him to the car abruptly release him. He slides down the front of the car and lands on his ass with a grunt. Brady is standing there, unnaturally still, his fist frozen in mid-air as if he was about to deliver another blow. The two betas are still on either side of the car, but both of them, like the alpha, stand unnaturally still. Sam is standing a few feet away, his eyes wide and his lips parted ever so slightly; he slowly brings down two fingers from his temple.

“What the fuck,” Dean grits out, waving a hand in front of the other alpha’s face. He balls that same hand into a fist, and pulls it back, seeing if he’ll get a response.

“Dean, stop,” Sam commands, his voice firm. The alpha freezes, his fist still in mid-swing, and a single bead of blood drips down his busted knuckles,” B-back down, and j-just… stop.”

Dean freezes as his head begins to throb. An odd sensation tickled across his brain, almost as if a single finger was pushing against it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the odd sensation to go away. The rest of the world became detached, all he could concentrate on was the sensation rooted deep in his head. Unaware, he obeyed, his hand falling to his side uselessly, his face one of the utmost confusion.

It took the police a total of three minutes to arrive and Sam, knowing that this was more than enough time for Dean to kill Brady or one of his lackeys, kept a close eye on him. When the police gathered around the parking lot of the diner, he watched two officers handcuff the two betas, well, one of them at least. The other officer attempted to get Brady into the waiting police car, but he confirmed in his radio that he was going to have to call an ambulance. Another, a third officer, stood by Dean and himself, explaining how he still had to take them down to the station for temporary holding.

“Even in the land of the free, fighting in public is sadly illegal,” Officer Gabriel Shurley says, nonchalantly snacking on a chocolate-glazed donut,” It is disorderly conduct that disturbs the peace. And keeping the peace is part of the ‘social contract’.” He finishes using air quotes, his donut balanced on his styrofoam coffee cup. He handed Sam a small, white paper bag with his usual whole-wheat bagel and margarine.

Dean was holding an icepack to his bloody and swollen face, one which the owner of the diner had kindly fixed for him. She of course scolded him for butting heads with another alpha but commended him for taking up for an omega he hardly knew. Sam was standing beside him, his arms crossed over his broad chest with a neutral expression over his face.

Dean lifted his head to look at Sam, seemingly not even acknowledging the officer,” Sam, are you good?”

Sam wasn’t physically hurt, in pain, yes, but overall, he was going to be okay. Dean on the other hand looked like an extra for a Wes Craven film. But, the alpha in stereotypical fashion was being overly protective of an omega, one that he hardly knew. Much to the omega’s aggravation, this did seem to be a common trait amongst all the alphas he’d ever associated with.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam confirms with a nod. Dean nods in return, but his facial expression sends a different message entirely: ‘We’ll talk about what happened when we’re alone.’

Dean turns from Sam, to Officer Shurley. “So, Officer,” His tone is playful, and he gives a smile that spreads to his eyes,” I see an extra powdered donut in that bag of yours. Now, I don’t want to accuse you of special treatment, but you gave Sam a bagel so…”

Squinting, the officer tried to stare Dean down. “Fine,” He relents, handing the paper bag to the younger man,” But, don’t tell anyone else. Otherwise those knuckleheads getting carted away to the hospital might wanna try some of my goodies.”

A low groan escapes Dean’s throat as he takes his first bite of the powdered sugar donut. The alpha talked past his mouthful of partially chewed food, with great difficulty of course. “You made this?” Every world is enunciated with a spray of powdered sugar, and the omega can’t help but let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” Sam nods, dimples showing as he gives a goofy grin,” Gabe here is the owner and almost sole, operator of Heat of the Moment Café.”

“Police officer, and baker? Aren’t you a regular Barbie Doll,” The alpha comments, another spray of powdered sugar escaping his mouth.

Gabriel shrugs,” It pays the bills,” His lips curve into a smirk,” Sammy here, is one of my best customers. Even though all he does is order whole-wheat bagels and these weird, uh, health shake… thingies. I only make them for him of course because he’s the only one that orders them, so they’re not present on the menu.”

The alpha rolls his eyes, attempting to lick the powder from his face and fingers like a small child. “Damn it,” He mutters as he only makes the mess worsen, spreading it to his clothes,” Son of a bitch.”

Sam digs through his jean pockets, before pulling out a small thing of tissues. He swipes at the sugar covering Dean’s lips, and area surrounding them, trying to hide his blush. Gabriel takes in this scene with raised eyebrows, his chocolate donut paused about an inch from his mouth. Dean seems to be leaning into the napkin dapping at him mouth, and Sam is obviously trying to hide his apple-tinged cheeks from the latter. To the officer, who was a frequenter of various porn-sites, it was like something out of Casa Erotica.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and lick the napkin, mom,” Dean teases.

As Gabriel leads them to his police cruiser, he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Jeez,” He mutters, looking at the backseat to make sure the two young men were situated,” Why don’t you two just elope?” He said it low enough, so the alpha and omega couldn’t hear it. Both were now looking out the window of their side of the vehicle, obviously avoiding the other’s gaze.

“When you speak of this — and I know you will — could I be shirtless? See, I think it would be more impressive if I was shirtless,” Dean quips as they drive away.

Officer Gabriel snorts, and replies,”You know what would have made it even more impressive?”


“If you’d actually won the fight.” That shut Dean up really quick.

Gabriel smirked and turned on the radio. “Smooth” by Santa was playing and the officer nodded in approval, and turned it up. Soon everyone in the patrol car was mouthing the lyrics and bobbing their heads to the beat.

Dean turns to Sam mouthing the words with much gusto,’Give me your heart, make it real! Or else forget about it!’ 

Sam rolls his eyes and turns to face the window, still bobbing his head to the beat of the song.




Sam Singer and Dean Winchester were now sitting in a holding cell at the Sioux Falls Police Department Law Enforcement Center. The name was a mouthful, and in all honesty, Dean wanted a mouthful of something else. And it was not one of Gabriel’s many sugary confectionaries. He eyed a sullen Sam, his eyes favoring the young man’s lips that were pressed in a firm line, and the stormy gaze that elicited from his hazel hues.

“So,” Dean pops the ‘o’ as he continues,” Are we going to talk about it?”

Sam stubbornly refuses to meet the latter’s gaze as he responds, “If I’m being perfectly honest, I’d prefer not to.”

Dean nods in agreement and manages to remain silent, for a few seconds at least. The alpha rubs the back of his neck, exhaling a deep breath. “Okay,” He leans against the cement wall, his eyes wandering to the ceiling,” You’re a psychic, huh?”

“Dean,” The omega hisses, “If you don’t drop it, I’m going to provide you with another demonstration.”

“A demonstration, huh? So, what exactly can you do? I don’t know a whole lot about psychics but I know most of them have a special innate ability – “


“What? Three?”

Sam’s cheeks redden and he shrugs, mumbling,” I have three.”

“Three,” Dean repeats dumbly,” You have three abilities? Okay, so I know you’ve got to be some kind of telepath because of the way you,” He wiggles his fingers besides his temple,” … fingered my brain –“

Sam nods knowingly, and inquires,” You mean the sensation, right? That odd feeling as if someone’s brushing a finger against your brain? Yeah, that was me,” He sighs and finally turns to him,” That usually means there’s a slight presence in your brain. It will be much more painful if someone tries to do anything more.”

“…have you been reading my mind?”

The omega swallows, and slowly nods,” Yeah. And I’m really sorry, it’s just… When we first met, I thought you were just another pretty face passing through town! I didn’t think we’d actually be... associating.”

“I have nothing against psychics,” The alpha starts awkwardly,” But, from here on out, if you want to know something, just ask, okay? I’m not comfortable with someone, anyone, shuffling around my head – “

“I’m sorry,” The omega apologizes abruptly, “I-I… It’s hard for me to block out the random thoughts and voices of others. I understand that my abilities can be…”

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually, I just… it’s been a secret from a lot of people for so long, I just— “

“Come on, it’s okay, baby. Just tell me,” Brady moved forward on the bed, squeezing his hand.

“I’m a psychic,” Sam says, taking a deep breath,” A telepath and a telekinetic. A-and I have some precognition.”

“A psychic?” Brady frowned, looking down, “I mean I know a few hunters with ties to psychics, but... what does that mean? I mean, what can you do?”

“Well… I can move things with my mind. I can see the future sometimes, just not on command. I-I can also read minds. But I don’t just… I don’t all the time, I mostly get the impression, surface thoughts off people. I can read someone’s thoughts in more detail if I push, but I try not to.”

Brady blinked. “Oh. Anything else?”

Sam bit his lip, and sighs,” I can… to a certain extent I can control minds. As well.”

“You can make people do things? Make them think things?”

“Well, yes, I suppose… yes, I can. But I don’t, I swear, it’s completely unethical, I would never consider…”

“Sam, do you - “

“I don’t,” Sam said, weakly. Then after a second or two, he asks,” Would you let me see? “He held his hand up to his temple, a question in his eyes.

Brady hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Alright.”

Sam grinned, his dimples showing, a thrill running through himself. If he could just show him how beautiful it was to feel other minds, if he could make Brady see how beautiful his mind was. He leaned forwards, brushing his fingertips to his temple, and gently pushed the sensation towards him.

Brady gasped and flailed backwards, so Sam lost contact with touch. He hadn’t really needed it for years, so the connection remained, and the latter clutched at his head. “What the… what the hell? What the hell? Oh my God, what… get out. Sam, get out!”

Sam pulled back, blinking in surprise,” Didn’t you like it?”

Brady looked ill, and Sam felt his heart sink. Was it really so repulsive, what he could do? The hunter shook his head, like he was trying to work the feelings loose, brush them off. “God! N-never again...”

“B-Brady... p-please...”

“No! F-freak,” Brady chokes out, standing up abruptly from the bed,” Damn it. Sam, I didn’t mean it – Sam!”

“…invasive, to say the least. I understand you not being comfortable, but I can’t really help it.” 

Dean tilts his head and ponders aloud,” So, you’ve only been reading my… surface thoughts? Nothing else?”

“Yes,” Sam exclaims, shoving his hands into his pants pockets,” Only surface thoughts without permission. I never even use my other abilities, unless... “

“Unless someone’s being a bit of a shit and beats up on your date?” Dean retorted, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“You don’t have to worry about me going any deeper into your mind, Dean,” Sam’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head, saying,” I’ll admit, it’s sometimes useful to delve a little deeper into someone’s mind. Or to shut their minds off completely. But I do have some morals, believe it or not. There are things I can do, but I never would...” He trails off.


“You said date.”

“I did?” Dean questions,” Well, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a date. I was just saying - Unless it was. Was it a date?”

The omega looks up through his lashes, and shyly utters,” It could have been.”

The alpha’s mouth goes dry at that and he states,” Then I guess it was. Since you’re not disagreeing,” The hunter goes quiet again and purses his lips. “Can you bend spoons?”

“What,” The psychic questions, raising one eyebrow.

“You know The Matrix? I saw it with my dad a couple of weeks ago,” Dean smiles and nods,” It’s a good movie, we should go, uh, check it out – Maybe after we get out of jail— “

Sam smacks his companion’s arm as footsteps approach, silencing the nonsense speaking alpha. The alpha shot the latter a quick glare, before turning to see the owners of the footsteps. Officer Gabriel had led two old men to the cell, jiggling a pair of keys to indicate that they’d both been bailed out. One of the old men was a frowning John Winchester, and the other was a scowling Bobby Singer. 

“Dad,” The two young men said in unison.

“Boys,” The two old men said in unison.

“Wait,” Dean turns to Sam, his eyebrow raised in a questioning manner,” You’re related to… that Singer? Bobby Singer?”

“Adopted,” Both Singers grunt out at the same time.

John Winchester just watches the scene unfold in amusement, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Officer Gabriel, now holding a jelly donut, opened the cell door and held it open for both young men to exit. The officer took a big bite from his donut, catching some of the flyaway jelly with his open palm, not even caring as it smeared onto his keys.

“Well,” Gabriel says,” You two are quite lucky your statements checked out. Otherwise I’d have to force you two to endure more of my horrible, god-awful baking.” Then with a wink he held up two paper bags; one with a whole-wheat bagel with margarine, the other a powdered donut with extra sugar.

“Thanks, Barbie,” Dean quips, taking the paper bag.

“You’re amazing, Gabe,” Sam exclaims.

“We better get out of here before Deputy Jody spots me,” Bobby warns, his eyes flicking back and forth throughout the room,” She’s still pissed about my dog escaping and crapping in her yard. She’s so sensitive about that damn grass.”

Sam rolls his eyes,” You could just apologize, dad. And to be fair he did a hell lot more than that.”

“For allowing a dog to do its business? Like hell,” Bobby responds setting a hand on his son’s shoulder,” Making the damn thing wear a collar is bad enough but dictating where it shits and pisses crosses a line, son. How would you like it if I told you, that you couldn’t take a shit or piss in your own toilet, huh?”

“I live in your house don’t I,” The omega shoots back,” You’ve all but destroyed the damn plumping.”

‘Mmm. And sassy, too. If you could cook a hamburger, I’d eat it right off your bottom,’ Dean’s eyes glass over momentarily at his dirty thoughts. All of a sudden, Sam halts his conversation with his father and his cheeks flush in embarrassment. ‘…Psychic, right.’

“Let’s head back to the house, and Dean can unpack,” Bobby grunts, clearing his throat,” Then, once everyone is settled, we can discuss everything, since you two idjits managed to miss the big meeting.”

“Alright,” John agrees,” Dean, you’ll be staying at Bobby’s house for the next few days – Before you can utter anything that resembles an argument, we’ll talk about as soon as we get settled.” 

Dean wore a puzzled expression. The alpha turned to the omega, but he only mirrored the expression and shrugged. It wasn’t until later that night, the two would figure out they were about to spend a lot more time together then expected.




Bobby Singer and John Winchester were two middle-aged alphas, both with somewhat old-fashioned values. Although, both would adamantly deny it in an effort to conform to modern ways. But, no one could miss the looks of distaste on their faces when an omega was on a billboard with ginormous red, white, and blue letters reading: ‘Vote Samantha Woodstock!’ It wasn’t their fault, not really, it was just how they were raised. Back in their day an omega was considered an integral part of society for three things: screwing, birthing, and cleaning.

To their credits’, they were both trying. Bobby Singer, with his young omega son, didn’t want for him to be raised with the same ideals he had, so he wasn’t, plain and simple. His son ran on the track team, and he was the only omega even allowed to run at the track meets because he was that damn good. Of course, men and women around the old hunter’s age wanted to yell smart-assed comments at the track every time his boy ran.

Some wise-ass alpha at one of his son’s meets decided to drop a rude comment like,’I bet you that there boy runs so damn fast because he imagines he’s chasing every goddamn alpha in front of him for their knot.’

‘Or maybe it’s because he’s imagining your limp-dicked boy trying to knot him from behind,’ The old hunter would reply. Needless to say, he had gotten into a fight in the bleachers more than once.

“What've I told you 'bout stickin' your boots on my table, John Winchester,” Bobby growled, swatting at his feet as he clambered past.

Dean grinned into the mouth of the soda Bobby had fetched him as his father dropped his feet to the floor. The old hunter dropped down into the chair opposite, readjusting the pile of books on the table that the other man had accidentally scattered. He looked at the young man in front of him, his expression lax and curious.

“How you doin', boy? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” Bobby asks, slapping a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

"Swell, as always," Dean replies, concentrating on the soda in his hands,” Uh, where’s Sam?”

Bobby drew in a sharp intake of breath,” Going for a run probably. I broke the news to him on the way here,” He explains turning to the senior Winchester,” He took it just as well as I thought he would. And I’m going to take a gander and say we’re about to get a similar reaction from your boy?”

“Likely,” John scoffs,” Stubborn as a mule, this one.”

“You wanna spit it out,” Dean questions, one eyebrow raised. This garnered him a slap upside the head, for “disrespect”.

“I take you know about the murders around here. Courtesy of Gordon Walker,” Bobby inquired, scratching at his beard. Dean nods solemnly, and takes another sip from his soda, “Well, all of the victims so far have been psychics, all varying levels. Some of them so damn inexperienced they wouldn’t be able to read a drunk toddler’s mind. At the meeting, the one you missed because you were too busy getting your ass kicked, we discussed a plan of action against Gordon.” 

Dean nods, and guesses,” So, this is about Sammy?”

“Don’t let him hear you call him that,” Bobby chuckles, before responding,” I take you already know about his… abilities?”

“A bit. Back at the diner, when those jackasses teamed against me, they all j-just… froze, and then he… I don’t know how to describe it,” The younger Winchester trails off, running a hand through his hair,” He just spoke and hell, I listened. If he hadn’t intervened, I wouldn’t be a free man.”

“Well, Sam is a very, immensely powerful psychic,” The old hunter emphasizes,” Probably the best one in the entire damn state, hell, maybe even the country. Even Pamela Barnes dropped her jaw when the two of them meet, back when he was just a little tyke.

John clears his throat, and asks,” What all can he do, Bobby? I mean I’ve only met a few psychics in my time, but most of them had pretty limited abilities.”

Bobby apparently found this amusing because he let out a snort. “I’ve met a lot in my lifetime, John. You see, when I first found out about what Sam could do, what he was, I sought out any I could find to help train the boy with his abilities… before things got of hand,” He snorted again,” Or more out of hand. By the time he could walk, he already had me wrapped around his pudgy, little finger. I would tell him that he was grounded, and he would just respond,’Make me a sandwich’. It’s not like I could help it, but I made the little bastard a sandwich, crusts cut off and all.”

Dean laughed, pressing his fist over his mouth. “Shit.”

“And out of the ones you’ve meet, he’s the most powerful? Or is that just father’s pride talking,” John interjects with a raised hand.

Bobby shrugged, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his graying hair. “Father’s pride aside, he’s a force to be reckoned with in a fight. Especially if he goes ‘theatric’ as he likes to call it. Most of the time he keeps his abilities under pretty tight wraps – Well of course he can’t help but read surface thoughts and such, but he never delves any deeper unless it’s absolutely necessary,” He puts his hat back on his head, and continues, “Anyway, he barely has to lift a finger to take out your basic monsters. I’m sure you two have heard some of the stories.”

John nods, and states, “I’ve heard a few,” He proceeds to tell one of the stories, “A couple of hunters told me that you took your boy with you on a hunt. Wraith wasn’t it? Well, apparently it knocked you on your ass and you were left open. Then your boy, who was barely able to look over the counter at the time, dropped a damn car on it and saved your sorry ass.”

“He’s saved my ass more times then I can count,” Bobby admits.

Dean nods in understanding and states,” So, Sam, he’s a psychic and a strong one at that,” All of a sudden he grinned,” Is that how we got off of those charges so easily? I mean I should have gotten something on my already bountiful record, but we just got to walk out of there, not even a slap on the wrist.”

Bobby grins. “Yeah, Sam had a couple words with the officers getting his statement, and now you two have clean slates. The boy is hella useful when he needs to be.”

“I need to take him with me to hustle pool sometime,” The younger Winchester exclaims, his childish grin spreading,” I’d cash out faster than the babysitter’s boyfriend when the car pulls up.”

John rolled his eyes, his son’s one-liners always managed to give him a need for a drink. But he couldn’t stifle his amused snort at Bobby’s quip. “You’re especially mouthy nowadays. Did Santa finally bring you the Y chromosome you always wanted?”

“Anyway,” Dean presses, now rolling his own eyes,” What’s Sam being psychic have to do with any of this – You think he’s a possible target, don’t you?”

Bobby’s playful look turned grave. “That’s why I had John bring you with him, Dean,” He sighs rubbing a hand over his face,” John and I have to head the hunt for Gordon. But Sam insists on going with us– the pig-headed little shit – rather than just staying here, until we can find the bastard.”

“We want for you to stay here, with Sam, keep any eye on him and keep him safe,” John finishes,” And I know you don’t like being sidelined, but this Singer’s boy. If something happened to him, after all he’s done for us… Dean, you have to take this seriously.”

“How long?”

“A week, maybe more,” John responds, his tone sounding relieved at the lack of an argument,” Just until Bobby and I can lure the bastard out and finish him, before any more lives are lost. Now, we’re heading out in about an hour – You keep a close eye on that boy, okay?”

Dean nods. “I will dad, don’t worry. No arguments here,” He held up his hands in mock surrender,” There, you win. You can ahead and do your victory dance or slaughter a goat or whatever it is you do when you’re happy.” That earned him another slap upside the head.

The front door slammed open and Sam Singer appeared, pulling headphones out of his ears as he entered the living area. He wipes the back of his long sleeve across his dripping forehead. The ends of his hair were damp and stuck to his forehead. His long-sleeved shirt clung to his sculpted chest which was still rising and falling rapidly. Dean ‘s lips parted ever slightly, the arousing smell of a perspiring omega hitting his nostrils.

Sam took a deep breath, and finally asked,” When are you guys heading out?”

"As soon as you hit the shower,” Bobby joked.

"Very funny," Sam retorted, snatching Dean’s soda from his grasp, and guzzled the rest of it. Dean gazes at the empty soda bottle shoved back into his hands, a bit dazed; from the latter’s scent he could tell he was at least pre-heat. He sucked in a huge breath on instinct and then groaned heavily, but when all eyes in the room landed on him, he tried to pass it off as a cough.“Anyway,” The omega trails off, his cheeks starting to flush.

“Well, John and I need to pack, so we’ll probably head out in ‘bout an hour,” Bobby responds,” Look, I know you’re not exactly ecstatic about the situation, but do me a favor and act your age, okay? Just go about your day, stay out of trouble, and Dean won’t be a pain in your ass.”

Dean winced. It was horrible phrasing, especially with the young alpha’s situation. Luckily, the omega seemingly didn’t take notice because he just simply nodded and agreed with his father. He actually let out a sigh of relief and followed his own father upstairs to help him pack. At that moment, he was willing to do anything possible to get away from the omega’s heavy pre-heat musk that smelt like sharp spearmint highlighted with a thin layer of sweet.




The pizza had probably been great a few days earlier when it was fresh. Now the crust was like cardboard and the cheese looked like fat gone hard. It was about as appealing as cold oatmeal. This of course didn’t stop Dean Winchester, who had already wolfed down nearly half of the cold pizza. Sam Singer, who had just made himself a simple salad was eyeing the alpha with disgust. The two of them were both laying lax on the couch, unwinding with their own preferred dinners.

“You can’t possibly eat another piece,” Sam comments, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken.

“Huh, really now,” Dean grunts, flipping open the pizza box,” Is that what you think, oh ye of little faith?”

Dean picked up another slice and made a show of sliding the point into his mouth, before biting down and chewing in slow motion. Sam rolled his eyes and threw a piece of broccoli from his salad at the latter. It was then that Bobby Singer and John Winchester clambered down the stairs, both carrying their duffels and matching surly looks. Dean caught John’s eyes, as he looked over the back of the couch at Dean and Sam, and then the alpha rolled his eyes as his father’s eyes flicked from Dean to Sam and back. 

“I should make you pay rent with all the couch you’re hogging,” Sam grumbles, bumping his hip bone against the latter’s in an attempt to scoot him over.

John sighs, his eyes still flickering back and forth,” Fuckin’ Beavis and Butthead over here.” He sifts out a crumbled pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, and puts one in between his lips, not lighting it. He’d probably learned his lesson from the last time he tried to light a cigarette in the Singer house – A well aimed slap against his temple to startle him into spitting it out.

“We’ll get along just swell,” Dean said with a satisfied smile, placing his arm around Sam’s shoulder, pulling him even closer to him.

Bobby raises a brow before, turning to Dean and stating, “Come here, boy. We need to have a quick talk.”

Dean stands up and follows Bobby into the dining room. After they’re out of earshot from both John and Sam, Bobby goes on a rant, “Listen here you idjit. I know that your head is filled with nothing but cut-outs from skin mags and years of repressed trauma, so you’re more than a little entitled to some privacy, but I need you try and sympathize with my boy,” He shoots a glance towards the doorway to make sure they’re still alone before continuing, “Things are different to psychics. Them using their abilities, whatever they may be, is as natural as breathing air is to you and me. Over the years he’s just gotten more shit for them, and it’s taken quite the toll on him. I’m not asking you to give him an all-access pass, Dean. All I’m asking is that you don’t be an ignorant jack-ass.”

“I understand,” Dean responds.

“Good,” Bobby remarks, visibly relieved, “The last thing Sam needs is another Brady.”

“Brady? The same douche-wad that turned my face into a Picasso painting?”

The older hunter grunts, “He wasn’t like that when he and Sam were first dating – “

“Wait – You’ve got to be kidding me – They dated?”

“A couple of months ago, yeah,” Bobby utters slowly, his brows raised, “Anyway, let’s just say it’s a good thing those two split up. Brady messed Sam up. You best not do the same, boy, or you’re going to find some buckshot in your gut – “

“Wait,” Dean sputters, “Sam and I.. We’re not, you know, like talking or anything – Right now. Err, we’re just friends, for the moment – “

“You know, I find that real hard to believe considering every time I see you two together, I almost set the record for projectile vomiting,” Bobby let’s out an amused laugh, before gruffly declaring, “I find it real funny that you think you’re so much as a blip on my radar. If I was worried about you, you wouldn’t even be talking to my boy right now, son.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean responds with a slight smile.

After that, the two of them return to the living room with amused smiles. Dean plops back down on the couch and stretches out as far as he can to take up Sam’s space. Sam let’s out a sound of protest and pushes up against him. When the alpha makes no sign of moving, the omega sprawls out like a cat and collapses on the latter.

“Alright, alright, damn it,” Dean cries out, shoving him away, “I’m on my side – Sam I’m… Off!”

Bobby gave the pair an unamused look, but he shrugged and gave his son a final departing hair ruffle. John and Dean weren’t even sentimental enough for that, so they just waved a a stiff good-bye towards the other. The door closed, the sound of gravel being shifted on the ground, and the car backed out of the driveway. They were alone; it was awkward already.

Dean was still watching the television leaned back on the couch chuckling, and to Sam’s surprise, he still hadn’t moved his arm away. The omega instinctively leaned back into the alpha’s touch, hoping he wouldn’t notice too much. He smelled good, most alphas did, but he must have used some pretty damn good cologne. The alpha’s scent allured him and filled his senses; something he never felt before, a raw need of more and right now.

Sam made a snuffled noise through his nose, pushing up against Dean’s arm. “Dean, can I ask you a personal question? Do you spray the cologne on, or do you just fill your bathtub up with it at home and splash around in it?”

Dean surprised at the abrupt interruption of skin-on-skin contact, felt like a cat that had been suddenly dumped into a bucket of water. He huffed scooting to the other side of the couch,” This should be fun.”

Chapter Text

 May 28, 1999


“Plus, one child,” The woman pointed downward to a young male pup in a rain-soaked hood that bobbed up and down. Sam Singer responded with a courteous nod and processed the transaction as efficiently as any cashier could, since the light drizzle of rain made him have to blink water from his eyelashes every few seconds. With a formal statement of greeting and soft lips casting a genuine smile, he handed them tickets.

The zoo Sam was employed at was a lively place with its large display of animals and birds of distinct species. Since he was barely the legal working age, he didn’t work in the animal enclosures or anywhere near them in fact; instead, he worked at the small petting zoo near the back. Not that he wasn’t at all unhappy with his current position in any way, he loved being responsible for the feeding and daily care of the smaller, less attention-gaining animals.

 So, a couple days a week he suited up in a khaki button up with matching shorts and plastered on a warm smile to get his more-than-fair paycheck. One definite plus of his job was the animals never acted out or had any miscommunications among the other workers; the perks of being a psychic. He simply communicated with them as he would any other human being, and in all honesty, he would take an endearing llama with a persnickety palate any day.

“Having fun?” Sam asks with an amused smile. He tucks his ticket dispenser in his belt and folds his arms across his chest.

Dean Winchester looks up, and scowls. The alpha had insisted on accompanying him to work that morning, rambling on and on about how he promised his old man that he’d stick around wherever he went. And though the omega found the sentiment touching, if not a tad bit annoying, he knew that the latter would grow bored of watching him wrangle snot-nosed brats and literal animals.

The hunter snorts, leaning against the fence further, his arms keeping him upright. “I wouldn’t offend you if I replied, ‘I would rather ride a slow train to hell than be here’ would I?”

“Not at all,” Sam responds with a soft laugh as he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear,” But in my defense I told you that you’d get bored quickly. What do you want me to do? Get you a coloring book and some crayons from the play-area? Or maybe an ice-cream with extra sprinkles from the – “

“Alright, alright. You’ve made your point,” Dean grunts out, waving off the psychic,” Shouldn’t you be doing your job, picking up a guinea pig’s crap or something? Maybe patting down a two-year old to make sure they didn’t try and smuggle a few out?”

The male pup in the rain-soaked hood is lost by the llama pen. When he opened his mouth to speak the words came out fitfully, the sounds half swallowed by a sobbing noise. To Sam’s dismay he was crying almost too much to be coherent. His coworkers, people that worked in the actual zoo, look the other way, and make their way to their own stations. Not their station, not their problem. The omega rolls his eyes and assesses the little boy, named Steve apparently, making sure he doesn’t have any sort of tag or form of identification.

Sam squatted low to the filthy ground and took his own rain-hood off, "Hey 'lil buddy, what's up?"

The pup stopped crying for a split second, one foot sliding unconsciously backward and his eyes glancing behind for just a moment. Then his face buckled again, the tears falling thickly to his cherubic lips, "Where's my mommy?"

Then Sam picks Steve up to try and calm him down, and as he wipes the tears off his face with his thumb. The pup curls his small fingers into the omega’s long, smooth brown locks and rubs the strands between his fingers. The pup had been drawn to him and now refused to be removed from his side, so much that the kid seemed to be growing on him like a tumor. Dean watches the entire scene with amusement.

Sam’s scent is turning sweeter by the moment. Responding to the scent of a pup that doesn't have any other omega around and becoming all kinds of calming and maternal. And holy shit if Dean doesn't want to bury his face on the other side of the omega’s neck to and take a deep inhale. The omega turned to the alpha and explained to him that he would have to take the kid to the lost-children center, near the front of the zoo, and that he didn’t need any company to do so.

“Yeah, right,” Dean comments, giving the goat that was starting to chew at the edge of his jeans the stink eye,” I think I’d prefer to just go wait in the car. But, maybe on the way you can treat me to a soft-pretzel with cheese,” The pup peeks his head from the spot he was nuzzling in the omega’s neck,” And maybe one for the stinker, too, if he man’s up.”

Steve’s puppy dog eyes immediately widen, and he frantically wipes away the tears and snot crusted on his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “I’ll be ‘ood, I promise! Want pretzel!”

The psychic scowls,” You can’t bribe a pup like that, Dean.”

The hunter shrugs and pats the little boy’s covered head. “If you want to get someone to do something, bribery usually works. That’s what all of us non-psychics do, anyway.”

“He’s pschic?” Steve gasps, his already widened eyes turning into saucers,” Like X-Men? If he a X-man, where’s his costume…?”

“Oh, he’s kinda undercover at the moment. Big secret assignment,” Dean explains, his face the one of the utmost seriousness,” I guess I have no choice but to bribe you again, for my friend’s own safety. If you can keep your mouth shut, not only will you get a soft-pretzel, but it’ll have extra cheese, too. Do we have a deal, young man?” He extends his hand to the little boy, still not showing any sign of playfulness.

The pup nods solemnly and takes the hand, shaking it eagerly,” Deal.”

Sam watches the entire scene unfold with raised eyebrows that almost hit the ceiling. After a moment, the omega shakes his head and adjusts Steve in his arms, grimacing as the kid tangled his fingers into his long hair, again. He sighs, knowing he’s going to have to take another shower that night, seeing the pup’s sticky paws. Dean winks at him, his façade of absolute seriousness finally breaking.

“Come on, Steve,” The omega states,” Let’s go find your mom. Dean,” The alpha turns to him,” My shift is almost over anyway, just wait in the parking lot for me, okay?”

“Of course, Sammy,” Dean responds, walking in the opposite direction backwards,” Later – And don’t forget, extra-cheese! If you show up to my car without a pretzel with extra-cheese, your ass is walking home!”




The couch in the Singer living room has seen many years, many seasons. Though beautifully designed the leather has been worn past the point of distress and now there are small tears and holes. The once bright tan color has been bleached by the sun that streams in the window, the hue is now a friendly soft beige, the kind one could wrap themselves in by a campfire and be cosy for the night – But Dean Winchester couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the couch itself, all he cared about was who he was about to do on that couch.

In the span of a heartbeat, Dean crosses the room and pushes Sam against the wall, his forearm pinned against the massive width of his chest. He doesn’t even give the omega enough time to protest or push him away, the alpha surges forward and ravages his mouth. Lips part and tongues meet and something inside of the hunter’s chest burns like mines of sulfur; the psychic moans deep and yearning into his mouth.

Sam smiled a bit, and broke the kiss to look over at him,” Well? What are you waiting for? Knot me."

“You've got a dirty mouth, Sammy,” Dean growls playfully, his tongue gliding up the latter’s neck,” Most omegas are so quiet and submissive when a horny alpha wants to knot them, they don’t say a damn word, but not you. God, you’re not a thing like the rest…”

“You love my dirty mouth," Sam argued and Dean almost creamed his pants without delay.

"It is arousing in the right situation,” With that, the alpha shifted over and thrusted his omega onto the couch, holding him tight in his arms as he pushed him deep into torn and frayed leather.

After a moment, Dean reached up his hand and trailed the backs of his fingers over Sam’s cheek and watched the omega’s Adam’s-apple bob. He continued, opening his palm over the omega’s jaw and down the column of his neck. The alpha fit his fingers under the hinges of the latter’s jaw and squeezed gently, watching his breath hitch.

“Do you want it, Sammy?”

“Yes,” Sam voices, his eyes glazed over.

“Yes,” Dean repeated, as he moved his fingers against Sam’s face,” How do you want it, babe? Soft,” His fingers trailed over the omega’s lips, the pad of his forefinger pressing into the smooth, warm skin,” Maybe a little rough, or a lot…” His finger moved from his lips back to his jaw, tracing the curve with his forefinger and thumb, exploring the smooth surface that had no hint of stubble.


“My pleasure,” Dean leaned up a little more to kiss Sam’s cheek. “Tell me if you need me to slow down.”

Dean Winchester suddenly got the sensation that he was being pulled away against his will. The room shifted dizzyingly around him, and he felt completely disoriented. In a flash, the darkness dissipated, and his eyes flew open. He sat up quickly with a strangled final snore and lifted his cheek from the window of the impala; a large wet smear was imprinted on the glass, no doubt he’d been drooling.

Sam Singer was climbing into the passenger seat and eyeing him strangely. His uniform from earlier was absent, he was instead wearing a simple outfit consisting of shorts and a t-shirt. The omega sighs and hands Dean a greasy paper bag, one that had a salty and savory smell wafting from it. The alpha eagerly took the bag, the warmth sitting comfortably on his lap as he eagerly drew out the pretzel, large zig-zagged lines of melted cheese covered the surface.

“You’ve learned a valuable here today, Sammy,” Dean asserted, tearing off a chunk of the still steaming twisted mass of cheesy, greasy bread,” Always please the man having to cart you around.”

“Whatever,” Sam responds with a laugh,” Sorry if I startled you by the way. I didn’t know you were asleep. You were making a lot of noises though, bad dream?”

"It was just a dream,” The alpha says stiffly, but he tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug. The omega didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t comment,” Guess that's what happens when you doze off thinking about… things.”

“Things, huh,” The psychic questions, his eyes falling on the latter’s lap,” You were making some oddly happy noises, Dean.”

Dean follows Sam’s gaze to his lap, and he froze in horror, quickly crossing his legs in an attempt to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. Without another word, the alpha turns the keys in the ignition, and starts navigating his way back to Singer Salvage. But, despite his best efforts to seem apathetic to the entire situation, his entire face was a furiously flushed to his ears by the time he parked in between two old, rusting cars.

‘Damn, psychic,’ Dean curses, waiting in the car as Sam grabs his duffel and makes his way into the house.

“Doesn’t take a psychic to put the pieces of that erotic puzzle together,” Sam snarks, his hazel hues glinting with mischief,” I’ll be making dinner when you’re ready to come inside.”




Sam Singer was laying flat on his bed, the quilt and sheets still tucked in with care. After his drawn-out, steamy shower he was still damp and pleasantly warm, only wearing a pair of paper-thin boxers and a t-shirt. The back of the shirt was soaked, for his hair was still dripping and stuck to the nape of his neck. At his side there was a disc-man, and a pair of substantially large, clunky headphones were situated on his head. ‘Til Tuesday’s “Voices Carry” was playing over the headphones, leaving him oblivious to any other sounds in the room; which is why he didn’t notice the window to his right slowly cracking open.

Sam had been exhausted from his day at work and hadn’t even noticed that the salt line on his window had a needle thin crack. This made it all too easy for the intruder to slip in unnoticed and stand mere feet away from the now peacefully dozing psychic, who was blissfully unaware of his impending fate. Tyson Brady with eyes black as oil spills edged closer, his arm extending to graze the inch of exposed skin underneath the sleeping figure’s t-shirt.

Sam’s senses strained, his head pounding painfully as harsh whispers from another’s head invaded his own, alerting him of a foreign entity in his room. The psychic’s eyes fluttered open, wishing that everything was nothing but a bad dream but then the pain in his head didn’t subside and when he tried to move his torso, he realized that he was immobilized. Brady had one hand on Sam’s chest, holding him to the bed while his other hand grazed his thigh.

Demon,” Sam chokes out, his voice still soft from sleep.

“Brady hasn’t exactly been the same, now has he,” The man leered down at him, bending over to brush his finger against the omega’s chin, “...sure he was an asshole before, but he was never this persistent in the mission to get into your pants. But, sadly I’m here for business.”

“H-how long have you been possessing him?” Sam stutters.

“For quite a while now. A few months maybe,” Brady says squeezing his thigh, laughing so hard that his head goes back,” Aw, that’s fucking adorable. You were hoping that maybe, just maybe, all those cruel words he spat at you weren’t his own. That he had a little demon on his shoulder telling him to verbally tear you to pieces. No, Sam… that was all chicken-shit Tyson Brady.”

Dread sets in Sam’s face like rigor mortis, his teeth locked tight together. “What do you want with me?”

“The same thing this meatsuit wants,” The demon purrs, his eyes blinking into an inky black, “I’ve been worming around in his grapefruit long enough to know what he really thinks of you. As an alpha, he naturally finds it alarming that an omega can have so much power over him. He sees you as some kind of house pet that needs to be broken in. And he thinks that he’s just the one to break you…” As he trails off, he tightens his grip on the latter’s thighs and begins to pull them apart.

“No, get the hell -!” The omega exclaims.

“Shh, we don’t wanna wake up the big, bad alpha downstairs,” Brady hisses in a deathly calm tone of voice,” You’re not going to bring him down with you, are you? He’s just a block-headed alpha, that has a cute little fixation on a nice piece of omega tail. You – You’re what I’m here for.” His mouth was millimeters away from the psychic’s, his breath hot against his face. 

Sam turned his head away and up and to the side again, trying to escape the demon’s mouth; the man’s tongue licking over his cheek and up to his temple. With every ounce of strength, he had in him, Sam thrashed, anything to get the man’s body away from his. Nonetheless, he didn’t have near enough strength to fight a demon, a psychic’s power had little to no effect against a demon, and he gasped as the demon settled his mouth over his. After a moment, he felt the lips start moving against his.

“And you’re about to go into the heat. I can smell it on you,” The demon moans in between breaths,” Most of the psychics I just nabbed right away, but you - Putting it plainly- Are sexy as fuck,” He chuckled low and deep,” I’m going to take my time with you. Have some fun first; Azazel will just have to wait up.”

“No – No,” Sam gasps as Brady’s fingers snake under his thin t-shirt, his cold fingers grazing his toned stomach,” Please – Just kill me now, please…”

“Kill you? Don’t be so damn melodramatic. I’m just here to take you away and put you with the others. But… I can’t the say the same for the others…”

“The others?”

“You’ll see, Sammy,” Brady whispers, slotting his mouth over Sam’s.

Sam can feel the sweat drench his skin, the throbbing of his own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in his ears; that’s all he can hear in the demon’s mind. His fingers are unfurled against the expanse of his blanket, nails digging into the cloth. The omega can't hear his own rapid breathing, but he can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of his lungs. And the demon stops kissing; he goes further, hands tracing his curves, dipping into hidden places. Fire in the form of water stung the psychic’s hazel eyes, threatening their attack. He crunched his teeth over his lip harder than he ever had; salty blood filled his mouth. 

“Stop,” Sam pleads a final time,” Stop, stop – I said stop!” His psychic power rushes forward like a frigid wave of water, sending the demon straddling his hips across the room. A roar of rage and a heart-thundering crash resound across the house.

“Now that’s a surprise,” Brady snarls sitting up from his slouched position.

Demons were one of the few supernatural creatures that had an immunity to psychic attacks, due to the fact that they were also psychics to some degree, but the black-eyed bastards’ power simply packed more of a punch than the average human psychics did. That is why it came as such a surprise that Sam Singer was able to use his powers in the presence of Brady, much less use them against him in any form of defense or attack at all. Just this one display of power had rendered him nearly immobile on the bed with a headache that throbbed violently around his skull; he wondered why it didn't just crack open.

Brady was as steady as a baby taking its first steps as he heaved himself up from the floor. The demon’s eyes are oil spills—reflecting nothing, absorbing everything, and his mouth is curled into a sneer. The corner of his lips has the faintest tinge of blood, and his tongue flicks at it in a predatory manner.

Sam cries out as he’s lifted into the air as if by some invisible fish-string, and then thrown against the wall with a loud resounding smack. He gasped softly as he adjusted his body against the telekinetic energy pining him there like an insect on display.

“Well, well, well, Sammy’s packing heat,” Brady declares as he leers at the psychic,” I didn’t think that wide-eyed, lanky Sammy Singer would be able to move a pencil, much less an entire demon… But, hey, Azazel is almost never wrong with these hunches!”

“Go to hell!” Sam snarls.

“Oh, from one hell to another,” The demon chuckles, advancing towards the human,” And trust me, sweetheart, you don’t have an inkling of what hell is like,” He halts mere inches from the latter’s face,” Allow me to educate you.”

Sam gasps as Brady slams his mouth against his, and it tastes like the discharge from smokestacks; his tongue curls around his, a possessive wisp of ash. He was not strong enough to fight the demon again, or even his alpha vessel. Defenseless, the demon’s fingers started crawling underneath the waistband of his boxers, and the human tried to struggle – He cried out as the telekinetic hold on him became heavier, almost suffocating him under its weight.

“Oh yes,” Brady brushed his nose against Sam’s neck. His fingers grazed his cheeks, lowering until they settled on his taint, “You’re going to be a good little bitch now, aren’t you sweetheart? Ol’ yellow eyes is going to have to wait, he can have you when I’m done – “

The demon was interrupted when the door shook, and a thundering bang reverberated through the room. Suddenly the door began to rattle, and the center began to bulge slightly with each blow. The knob looked as if it would pop out, and dust puffed out from the frame, which started to separate from the wall. Then it burst open, Dean Winchester stands rigid in the doorway, facial muscles twitching with fury.

“Get off of him!” Dean roars, splashing water from a silver flask in the direction of the demon,” That’s holy water you demonic son of a bitch!”

Brady lets a distorted roar of agony, steam rising from his skin as he backs away from both of the humans. Sam cries out as he falls limply to the ground, and before he can even register the pain, Dean is dragging him to his feet and to the direction of the door. The alpha wraps his hands around him, putting in a noticeable effort to try and keep him upright.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you filthy meatsack!” Brady screams.

Dean keeps a tight hand bunched in Sam’s white t-shirt pulling him along down the hallway. Sam was still feeling a wee bit woozy and was struggling to even keep a straight gait. As they run into the living room the sound of the demon’s thundering footsteps is a breath away, and the omega digs his fingers into the alpha’s leather jacket urging him towards the old, fraying rug in the middle of the room. Brady’s slew of taunting hollers reverberated in his ears like a clap of thunder, such was his rage.

Brady walks into the living room, slowing clapping his hands together as he plastered a grin on his face that was much too wide. “Look who we have here. I knew I smelled that odd combination of fear and stale french fries,” He blurted out, his smile starting to slacken,” You know, Dean-O, it’s rude to interrupt things you aren’t invited to, but, hell, if you wanted a turn with him you could have just asked! Big, oafish alpha like you… it’s not like I didn’t see it coming – “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Just skip the rest of your taunting speech,” Dean interjects, shooting the demon a mock-smile,” If you’re going to implode me snap of your fingers or make my bite off my own tongue or whatever fucked up things’ demons like to do when people piss them off, just get it over with.”

The rival-alpha curled his lip, raising his fingers into the air,” I’ll make this quick,” He snapped. He snapped again. Again.

Dean whistles at the demon, then kicked up the side of the rug, revealing a large red spray-painted devil’s trap. Brady inclines his head, his expression was cadaver-like, not just sagged but lacking its usual liveliness completely. Sam takes a shaking breath, relieved when he feels Dean’s hand tighten around his shoulder, the other hand pulling him closer.

“Please,” The demon stated, motioning towards the exposed parts of trap,” This isn’t going to hold me, not for long, sweetheart. Spiritus in mundus, un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram, domine…

“What the hell is he doing,” Dean snarls, his eyes widening as the entire house begins to shake,” Sam?”

“Spell,” Sam manages to gasp out,” He’s trying to break the devil’s trap. We need to go – Now!”

Brady’s Latin incantations are growing distant when they reach the exit, and Sam swiftly grabs his backpack that was thrown by the door haphazardly, dashing after Dean as he makes his way into the chilly night air. They both dashed into the field of scrap metal and old, rusting car frames, trying to make it to the Impala. Everything of any value had been stripped away and only the carcasses remained, heaped one on top of the other, waiting to be fed into the crusher.

"Oh, Baby," Dean breathed at the sight of the Impala parked on the other side of the auto-salvage. He glanced around before hurrying across and to the driver side of the car. He patted his pockets for the keys,” I think they're in my jacket…” He fumbled in the pocket and retrieved the keys, stumbling into the vehicle.

“What took you so long?” Sam chokes out, flinging himself into the passenger seat.

The engine rumbled to life when Dean turned the key in the ignition, and it growled as they pulled out onto the road. “Better late than never! Buckle up or hold on tight, this is going to get bumpy,” He warns, twisting the wheel as he swerves out of the spot he parked in,” Shit!”

Then another pair of car light illuminated behind them, and the bumper of it was starting to get dangerously close. It was a medium sized black charger, the perfect pursuit vehicle for a black-eyed asshole. The alpha swerves on the road as the demon gains on them, the wild hoots, and hollers of him coming closer and closer.

Sam’s eyes widen as he fully takes in the pursuit vehicle; his car that he had just gotten fixed. Dean’s gun was gone by the time he realized someone had even put their hand in his coat and whirled around in his seat to see Sam half-hanging out the window, his hair billowing in the wind as he aimed the gun into the distance and fired twice. There was an ear-piercing pop as two tires blew out and the pursuit vehicle screeched to a halt, fading away further and further into the distance as they kept going.

The omega slouches in his seat, casually pushing the handgun back in its previous resting place, the hem of the alpha’s jeans. “Don’t gawk at me like that,” He sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest,” I used to hunt, too. I know how to fire a damn gun.”

Dean purses his lips, but doesn’t say a word, he just keeps his hands on the wheel. Sam stays stiff as a board his eyes staring ahead. The alpha tilted his head, to look at the omega from the corner of his eye, checking for signs of any injuries to be treated at their eventual stop. The young man’s hazel hues are red-rimmed and watery, his lips swollen with a thin layer of moistness – He sucks in a breath, his knuckles going white as he clenches the steering wheel.

Despite all that had happened, it didn’t take Sam long to fall asleep. But not even sleep couldn’t help him escape torment. The current issue with Brady was digging up all the trauma that Sam had buried, and now he was paying for it. The nightmares were all jumbled; flickering black eyes, his nose gushing blood as he surges his powers forward, a man screaming as the demon inside of him tears him apart from the inside, out.

Another touch joined all that he was feeling, and Sam tried to shove the hand off him, but it returned after a moment. Another hand. This one grabbed hold of his shoulder and roughly shook his body. Sam thrashed madly, trying to get away. Someone was calling his name, but through all the flashes of blood and smoke it seemed so far away. 

“No!” Sam cried out, sitting up in his seat with a jolt,” Don’t touch me!” On awakening, despite the nightmare ending, a ghastly feeling of being watched by invisible eyes prolongs an uneasy feeling.

“Sam?” Dean asked, still keeping his hand on him,” You with me?”

Sam swallowed roughly, nodded. “…Yeah.”

The alpha retreated his hand and cleared his throat,” We’re stopping for a little while, okay?” The omega nodded again, and the alpha continued,” I’m going to call our dads and tell them what happened, see what they want us to do next. I went ahead and got us a motel room, on your bed I set out some of my clothes– But if you’re hungry, last gas station I stocked up on some munchies, and I know you’re usually not into – “

“Dean, it’s good. Thanks,” Sam states, cutting off his companion,” Junk food and bed it is then."

"I get all tingly when you make such romantic suggestions,” Dean grinned.




“Sammy!” Dean banged on the bathroom door for the fourth time, jiggled the locked knob,” Get your ass out here and eat. You’ve been in there for nearly an hour!”

“Not now, Dean,” Sam cries out, his voice shaking,” Please, just go away!”

The door stayed locked. The alpha could tell the outburst was supposed to be a lot stronger and hard edged, but it really just came out sounding pathetic. He sighed leaning against the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he hummed Def Leppard’s “Rock of Ages” under his breath. On the other side, he could hear an exasperated exhale.

“Dean,” The omega grits out,” I can make you go away.”

Dean actually flinched at that and gulped, recalling the first time Sam had used his psychic abilities on him. “You wouldn’t,” He says,” Besides, last time you pulled that Vulcan mind-probing crap I had indigestion for hours,” When he didn’t hear the latter’s usual wry chuckle or even a snort, he ran a hand over his eyes,”Either you unlock the door, or I just jimmie it.”

After a couple of seconds, the door lock clicked. The alpha opened the door and the scent washed over him like a wave in a frigid ocean and nearly sent him toppling to his backside. It was a heavy musk highlighted with that same sharp spearmint and a thin layer of sweet that made up this omega’s scent. He let out deep, guttural groan and struggled to keep himself steady against the doorframe. The omega was in full blown heat.

Dean’s chest is heaving by the time he’s gotten within two feet of the breathtaking sight of Sam. He’s pulling in his scent as deeply as he’s able and it’s still not enough. His palms begin to sweat, and his cock promptly fills when he’s met with a weak glance. Sam is sitting on the toilet, his arms crossed over his chest as he inhales and exhales sharply; his cheeks are tinged with pink, his lips lusciously swollen and moist.

Sam suddenly tries to stand up too quickly, bringing on a wave of dizziness. His forward stumble is halted by a strong grip on his forearm. Dean had him wrapped in his arms before either of them could blink. The omega tried to push him away, struggled to get out of his grip while at the same time instinctively pushing himself against the alpha, all but trying to coil around him like a boa constrictor.

The omega was feeling heat everywhere, especially underneath his pajama pants. He was concentrating so hard on the courses of fire funneling through the front of his body that he totally missed what was happening in the back. The alpha ventured, slipping his hand lower, pressing in at the top of his bottoms, right above his ass and the latter let out the softest of moans – Slick dripped form his hole as the grip on his ass tightened.

“Sammy,” Dean chokes out,” God, you’re killing me – Fuck… Do you not take suppressants…?”

Sam pries his eyes open as his breath comes out in a light gasp, “I do, I swear,” His fingers trace the curve of the latter’s back, the pads grazing the thin fabric,” I-I must have forgotten this month’s d-dosage… They’re still at the, ah, house…”

Dean has to bite his tongue to hold back the yearning moan that almost leaves his throat,” Sam,” He hisses as the hands on his back graze over his hips, and instinctively he thrusts them forward into the touch,” God – I am so sorry… I don’t think I can –“

The skin under Sam’s hand is electrified and the latter’s attention is as palpable as a trumpet sounding in the knights to tilt. When the omega looks up, the hooded green eyes are locked on him as the alpha continues running his hand in careful, slow circles over his ass, mouth open and breathing erratic. Then the alpha gives the two round globes in his hands a tight squeeze. A muffled sound builds in omega’s chest, as near to a moan as he can allow himself to let out. 

"You have no idea what you’re in for,” The alpha warns, his voice a low growl as he stalked towards his prey, “Because I am seconds away from having you right here. I want to feel you around me as I bury myself deep in you,” He can smell the heady slick starting to gush in arousal,” I want to see how long you can last and how much I can make you beg."

A soft whimper escaped the omega’s lips, he wanted that and more. “Show me,” He whispers, his lips grazing over the alpha’s lobe,” …Please. Please, Dean. I need…”

Without a warning, Dean pulled them away from the bathroom and then all but carried Sam to one of the bedroom’s queen-sized beds. Of course, Sam had never been handled so in this kind of context, but he loved the impressive strength Dean showed as he carried Sam through the motel room. None too gently, the alpha pushed the omega down under him as he climbed into the bed. A restlessness builds in the omega’s legs, the muscles along his spine twitch, sweat beading on the nape of his neck, pricking under his arms.

The alpha kicks off his boots as the omega rests his hands on his waist, he tugged his shirt free out of his jeans and stroked the skin underneath his fingertips. He looms over the omega, his hands curling into the comforter underneath them, just to keep himself from ravaging him at once. That heat builds in the latter, coalesces in his belly. Something like a challenge rising up in him, and his lip pulls back in a gasp. Slowly, his eyes slip closed and his skin continues to tingle. He couldn't remember how he lost his shirt and didn't realize until he felt the alpha’s callused fingers trailing along his bare skin followed by his mouth.

“So good,” Dean runs his thumb over his lips, the rough, callused skin scratching against the soft flesh,”...I can’t wait to have you.”

Chapter Text

When Sam opens his eyes again, Dean has yanked down Sam’s pajama bottoms, leaving him almost entirely nude except for his boxers. Dean growls, the sound reverberating through his ribs, every inch of lust and focus turned on the man underneath him. All that heat and buzzing need flowing through Sam, he is just now beginning to understand just what he was getting himself into. The alpha moves in closer, nose trailing over the curve of the omega’s shoulder, hot breath washing across his neck as he tucks his face in close. He tilts his head back displaying his throat further. The alpha huffs, satisfied, and sets his teeth against the omega’s skin.

“God damn, Sammy, you smell so good,” Dean speaks against the skin of Sam’s neck, making his teeth scrape before biting and sucking. 

Dean’s hands settle over Sam’s pecs as his fingers circled his tender nipples. He watched as the skin puckered and the nubs grew more peaked. The alpha teased one nub, twisting it slightly and the omega’s back arched off the bed completely as he gasped. His cock twitched in his pants at that and he lets out a heavy breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Dropping his head down, Dean replaced his finger with his clever tongue, gently taking the nub in his mouth. He tugged once, and the action elicited a deep moan out of Sam. The alpha wrapped his lips around the puckered nub, flicking the hard, little mound with his tongue while teasing the other nipple with his free hand.

“You really like that, don’t you?” Dean murmured as he released the abused nipple from his mouth.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Sam’s voice is trembling, but his gaze never wavers. The alpha gripped his jaw with more force than necessary and kissed the line of his jaw bone while rubbing his groin against the omega’s.

“Gonna knot you," Dean promised against the latter’s neck, his voice nearly a growl,”My omega," He rubbed a little harder, his knot beginning to swell,”My Sammy.”

Dean pulls back, and Sam tries to clear his head, then he heard the sound of a belt being undone and his body tensed. In the motel room, the clink of the buckle and the rustle of cloth seemed overly loud. The fiery coils flare up in time with it, something deep inside, lustful and yearning waking up. When he blinks again, the alpha’s pants are down his muscular legs, exposing his erect member. It’s huge and thick and already dripping. The omega gasps and the alpha groans and lowers his hands inch by inch over him, heavy weight of his body pressing into him as he begins to pull teasingly at the omega’s boxers. The omega was startled again when he felt a finger press lightly against his entrance.

“You want this,” Dean rasped. It was a statement, not a question. Sam couldn’t help the whine that escaped his lips,” You need this.”

Dean slid his finger inside and Sam gasped, writhing against the hot body over him. Another finger entered him, and he couldn’t help rocking back against them with a moan. “You’re gorgeous, Sammy. Moaning so pretty for me. All for me,” His voice was deep and heavy with arousal and he said it again, closer to the omega’s ear this time so that he could graze his tongue over it.

The hunter continued to open him up and scissor his fingers against the sensitive insides. But when the alpha’s fingers brush the omega’s prostate, he lurches forward, pulling away from the pleasure because it damn near pushed him to the edge far too soon. The alpha growls pulling him close again, pumping his fingers several more times before stilling his hand. He palmed his erected cock and ignoring every one of his burning instincts that this was wrong, he gripped the omega’s hips and guided his cock to his hole.

“What are you…” Sam gasps, his back arches as more slick escapes him. Dean’s cock hasn’t even penetrated him; it’s barely pressing against his hole, “...What are you doing to me…”

Dean blinks, feeling as if the wool has been snatched from his eyes. “Fuck, Sam,” In mere seconds he’s quickly pulling his jeans back on, climbing off the omega,” I’m so sorry… God, I almost…”

A cry broke from Sam’s throat,” Dean, please, don’t leave me like this,” He slips his hand up the alpha’s still bare chest, tangling his fingers in the loose chest hair,” It hurts, fuck, it burns so bad. Please, please, please, just make it stop.”

“Shit, Sammy,” The alpha groans, grabbing the omega’s wrist,” I-I can’t… Fuck, this is so wrong… I have to go, before I do something, we’ll both regret later.” He pries himself away from the omega’s yearning touch and bends over to grab his shirt.

Dean quickly back-steps out of Sam's reach and pulls his shirt over his bare chest. This doesn’t do squat to deter the desperate, hormone crazed omega. Sam steps towards Dean again, wrapping his long arms around the alpha’s waist, pulling their bodies tightly together. Surrounded by the omega’s deep fragrance of sharp, yet sweet spearmint is intoxicating.

“You’re practically drooling,” Sam insists, running his lips over the latter’s jawline,” I don’t have to be a psychic to know you want it too. So, please, just do it, make it stop…”

“Sam listen to me damn it! You deserve so much more than a quick knot to satisfy you,” Dean snarls, grabbing the omega’s chin, forcing him to meet his steely gaze,” But I’m not going to just leave you like this, I would never, ever do that to you. I’m going to go out for some supplies, if there is anything else you need – “

“Uh, anything except that,” Dean hastily hisses when Sam reaches out to graze his fingers against the still obvious bulge his jeans,” Look, lock the door behind me, and put down a line of salt. Don’t open it unless you know without any doubt it’s me, okay?”

Sam nods weakly,” …Fine,” His voice is still trembling as he grits out,” Just please, hurry, I’ll never forgive myself of something happens to you because I couldn’t control myself…”

Not even twenty minutes later, Dean Winchester is banging at the door, plastic bag in hand. Sam Singer opens the door after a couple of seconds, his cheeks apple-tinged and his hair practically drenched in sweat, but at least he’s regained enough control to pull his clothes back on. Dean pushes past him into the bathroom, snatching up one of the paper cups from the sink and filling it with lukewarm water. Then he opens the bag pulling out a prescription bottle with a name inscribed on it that certainly doesn’t belong to either of them.

Dean palms three pills into his hand, then takes Sam’s shaking wrist and pulls him in the direction of the bed,” Look, I got you some heat-accelerants, and, yes, they are very illegal in this state, but I know I guy. You take three of these and it makes a heat pass like-,” He snaps his fingers in a dramatic fashion,”-that.”

Sam stared at him as if he was an angel straight out of Heaven. “Dean,” He swallows thickly, moving some of the hair from his face,” …Thank you.”

The alpha is trying to hide his embarrassment, so he just gives a stiff nod,” It’s nothing. Just doing what any friend would do.”

“Dean?" The omega utters.

“Yeah?" Dean answers warily.

“…I’m sorry, so, so, sorry,” Sam shakes his head slowly and gasps out,” I tried not to give in, Dean. I tried to do hard to fight it, but I couldn’t control myself – And that scares me more than anything. Not being able to control my own thoughts or actions, it was like I had regressed into some kind of thoughtless animal… One with a single intent...”

"I know, I know you tried to fight it," Dean soothes, petting the side of Sam's face gently,” I know you couldn't control it. This wasn't your fault, okay?" He takes a shaking breath, his thumb running down the side of the latter’s cheekbone,” Hell, I almost gave in, Sammy. I almost took something from you, something that can never be given back.”

“Dean – “The omega articulated, “You don’t understand – I almost made you.”

“Made me what? What are you talking about?”

“Dean,” Sam chokes out, wrapping his arms around himself,” For a split second, I almost made you do what I wanted to me. And I could have, easily, if I had gone any further. My powers, being a psychic, it terrifies me sometimes… The things I can do, the things that I want to do – “

The alpha shakes his head,” Look, just sleep it off,” He hastily takes back his hand, letting it fall to his side,” The pills should make sleeping a little easier, you’ll be out like a light. Then, when you wake up, you should at least be able to function, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam echoes, giving him a weak smile.

Dean didn’t want to think about what had almost gone down mere minutes ago. He had almost knotted one of his father’s closest friend’s son, Sammy, the young, tantalizing omega that had never done such an act. The alpha tried to throw him out of his head, but the omega keeps coming, haunting his thoughts like a wicked conscience. He guessed it didn't hurt that he was a good-looking young man, but it was more than that.

Sam was quiet, but not out of painful shyness. It has a reservedness, like a conscious choice to observe the lay of the land before he got involved. Yet he wasn't stand-offish, he remained friendly faced and welcoming in body posture. Despite this, a small part of the omega made adrenaline rush like a burning torrent through his veins. The fact that the psychic could have fucking made the hunter give him what he wanted, what he in that moment needed from him, should make him feel vulnerable or at least cautious towards him, but it instead made him feel in the sickest way… aroused.

Dean usually only sleeps in a pair of boxers, if that, but he feels it would be decent of him to be fully clothed in pajamas tonight. Sam was mere feet away from him, sprawled over the motel’s cheap, scratchy comforter, his lips parted every so slightly in blissful sleep. The alpha can still smell the heady scent of the omega’s dampening heat, but he hammers it in his head that he cannot act on it. The omega had never been put to bed, knotted by an alpha before, and he can’t take that away from the young man.

Then Dean goes about pulling the quilt out from under Sam so he can tuck him in. He briefly considers trying the tablecloth method – yanking the blanket so fixed that it will slip free without Sam even moving – but as appealing as that sounds, Dean figures it's not worth the possibility of Sam ending up on the floor. So, he spends the next few minutes tugging the quilt down inch by inch, going as slowly and carefully as he can to avoid waking Sam. Eventually, he pulls the last little bit free, and then drapes it back over Sam. 


Shit. “Yeah, Sam?”

“Can you lay with me?” Sam’s voice is soft, almost pleading,” I promise, I won’t try anything, I just – I just want to at least feel…”

Dean nodded in understanding. The alpha pushes him gently over to one side of the bed so there'll be room for both of them. If he ever goes to sleep, that is. He's exhausted, but he can't deny how much he'd rather spend the night watching over the omega. With horny alphas lurking, a pissed off demon, and a psycho hunter with some unknown vendetta against psychics, he felt no urge to shut his eyes. He wraps his arms as tightly as he's able to around his broad shoulders and holds the young man close, bunching his fingers in his long hair.

Dean presses a chaste kiss to Sam's damp forehead, tasting salt and harsh motel soap and underneath the overwhelming flavor of spearmint. He feels the latter’s breath hitch at this, but he doesn’t pull away, of anything he pushes closer. “Go to sleep, Sammy,” The alpha whispers.

“Sam, not Sammy,” The omega murmurs sleepily,” Asshole.” Dean grins.

A few hours later, Sam woke up from a fitful sleep. In his dreams he only saw flashes of black eyes and swinging meathooks as a man screaming became like static in the back of his head. Drenched in sweat and trembling, he tried to get more comfortable. He laid on his side, leaning slightly forward toward Dean, who was laying on his back, hands behind his head. He rested on him. The omega’s movement must have roused the alpha, who slipped a hand onto his waist and tangled a leg with his. The psychic watched the latter for a while.

Suddenly, Dean opened his eyes, turned into his side and met Sam’s. Sam’s lips parted slightly in surprise and his breath caught, but he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't falter and he held his gaze. The omega’s cheeks reddened. There was no doubt that the psychic was starting to develop feelings there.

Sam waited for him to go back to sleep but he didn't. He saw the look on the Dean’s face form a question, eyebrows raising slightly, prompting him to speak, but then something changed. Steadily, the alpha’s eyes intensified as he started really looking back at the omega. He doesn’t know how long they laid there, not moving, just looking. Seconds looking in those green eyes felt like an eternity.

Eventually, sleep started to win out and Sam’s eyes started getting heavy. Dean seemed to realize this, his eyes shifting slightly, giving up his intense façade and softening his face. He briefly tightened his lips, then slowly blinked, and nodded, seemingly acknowledging their need to sleep. His eyes remained closed then. The omega wanted to reach out and touch his mind, just this once, but he didn't dare. Instead, the psychic drifted off, wondering if he had just imagined the whole thing.






Walking through the alleyway, Gordon stood a few feet from his latest target, his eyes clouded with frantic thoughts. For the first time since he'd begun this, he didn't know what to do. This psychic had done many terrible things in his life, starting with robbing a gas station when he was a teenager and most recently ending with burning his ex-girlfriend almost to death, when she’d asked him to stop drinking. He was violent, but he’d had a rough past.

The psychic is walking down the street, his earphones blaring Depeche Mode’s “Never Let Me Down Again”.

"You made a big mistake followin’ me, freak," He says, pulling out one earphone, and turning around.

Gordon pulled his knife out so quickly you could hear it cut through the air. The man before him, disheveled and furious, slowly brought his hands forward in a defensive stance. The hunter didn’t even blink as faint sparks of electricity elicited from the other man’s hands. Instead he just brought his knife forward, ignoring the latter’s mocking laughter.

The psychic ceased his mocking laughter at once and took a step back. ‘Hadn't he heard about this guy? Holy shit! He was about to get snuffed!’

"Hey," He said, "Look, I don't want any trouble, Trash-Can Man.”

"Is that what they're calling me now? The other psychics?” Gordon asked,” The Trash-Can Man? You were really hard to find, you know that? So, I know you're smart. Yet at the same time you're incredibly stupid. Pathetic, really."

"Yes, I am pathetic," The psychic agreed, raising his hands,” I get it, you don’t like the name, so now you’ve come to take it out on me - Look man I didn’t even come up with it.”

"If I cared about the name, do you think I'd let them give it to me?" The Trash-Can man points out and the latter was taken by surprise when he grinned widely,” But if I do want a new name, I’ll let your body do it for me. Maybe I will consider a name change. If I want to, maybe I'll carve the name into your stomach- would you like to help me that way?” 

"So...” He asked dumbly, unable to look away,” You are cool with the name?"

“Are you done now?"

The psychic’s eyes widened as the knife flashed in the dim light. Just once. It stabbed into the curve of his stomach and he convulsed, flopping onto the wet pavement below. The man squatted down next to the psychic, and grabbed his chin making him face him.

“Come on,” Gordon states, squeezing the line of his jaw,” Show me. Show me you’re not like the other psychics…”

“Go to Hell,” He grits out, blood seeping from between his fingers.

Nonetheless, he has to try. He pushes trembling fingers forward and closes his eyes. He waits to feel the warmth of flames dancing between his fingers - Nothing happens. The psychic let’s out a pained whimper as his quivering hand slaps back down to the concrete below. The hunter sighs, sounding almost disappointed, before bringing down the knife again.



May 29, 1999



Sam Singer stirs awake slowly, enjoying the feel of the not-quite-hard-but-not-exactly-soft mattress under him and the warm quilt around him during those first few seconds of consciousness. Then he quickly becomes aware of the body spooned up against him. Dean Winchester’s bare muscular arms are raveled around his waist, his chin set against the curve of his shoulder, and his fingers are tangled in Sam’s mess of hair. For a moment Sam is clueless as to why he is being cocooned, but then he flushes bright red as he remembers everything that happened the previous night.

Just the thought of Dean’s throbbing, erect member pressed against the damp tent of his boxers makes his ass relax and open, wet with lubrication. The same heat from last night trips through him, lighting his skin with need, filling his cock with blood, it’s not nearly overwhelming as it was before. The heat accelerants seemed to be doing their work. He moans softly pushing against the alpha pressed against him, searching for the fullness that only could only come when they were connected, joined intimately.

Dean opens one eye, then sucks in a sharp breath as tightens his hold around Sam’s waist. "Sammy, shit," He murmurs, voice gravelly from sleep,” That’s a hell of a wake-up call. God, shit – Okay, why don’t you head for the shower, and rinse off real nice and good. And I’ll go pick up some food. Capisci?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Sam agrees, starting to squirm in Dean’s arms to signal release. The alpha loosens his arms, holding his breath as the latter pushes off from him to get out of bed,” Can I just get a fruit cup and some kind of muffin? Preferably blueberry.”

Dean shakes his head in disapproval, but nonetheless says,” Whatever, not even going to try and argue. Same routine from last night, okay? Can’t take any chances,” He sets his feet on the side of the bed and begins tugging on a pair of discarded jeans on the floor,” And when I get back, w-we have a lot to talk about. There are some details from last night that we skipped out on, and now that you’re lucid – “

Sam gently took Dean’s hand, his finger rubbing the knuckle as he replies,” Alright, just promise me something, okay,” The alpha slowly nods as his gaze drifts to the fingers massaging his hand,” There is still a lot you don’t know about the extent of – Dean!”

Dean nipped at Sam's hand, and the omega had to bite back another surprised squawk. The omega had no idea what the alpha was up to and he did not expect for him start licking his hand. The psychic gasped with surprise. Before he could fully process what was happening, the hunter took his fingers in his mouth and started sucking hard and laving them with his tongue. Dean's mouth was so hot and wet, and Sam got lost in the feel of it for a moment, an unbidden flicker of arousal running through his body. Another heady gush of slick as he shivers.

As he recovered from the shock, he tried to jerk his hand away, but Dean's grip was firm. “Dean,” Sam presses, but his voice is low and husky.

Dean drops his hand, his lips still swollen and moist with saliva as he blinks rapidly, almost as if in a daze. “God, you’ve got to take a shower,” He’s walking away, his hands robotically tugging on his leather jacket as he continues speaking,” It’s your damn scent, it’s driving me insane!”

“Well get out of here so I can shower!” Sam exclaims defensively, waving towards the door. Dean scowls and Sam sighs, before pointing out,” If I strip down with you even remotely near me, we both know what’ll happen. And if we start that up again, I don’t think either of us will be able to stop this time.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then quickly closed it again; damn he hated being wrong. The alpha then tried to convince the omega to partake in a more “wholesome breakfast”, one consisting of over-buttery pancakes with scrambled eggs and greasy bacon. Sam refused and then to show Dean that he was serious, he locked himself away in the bathroom and took a long, soothing shower. By the time he came out of the room, only wearing a towel around his waist, Dean was gone; he was free to roam about in natural state.

Sam allowed the towel to fall from his waist and walked across the room to Dean’s duffel bag. Since they were in such a hurry to get the hell away from Brady, the omega didn’t have any of necessities and was forced to rely on what his alpha companion could provide. Luckily Dean wore pretty baggy sweat pants and t-shirts to bed (if he wore something) so he had at least something to wear. He tugged on a pair of black sweatpants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, wincing when his fingers grazed some of the sensitive bruising over his sides.

Getting man handled by a horny demon fucking sucked. “Shit,” Sam cursed, eyeing his sides in the mirror,” Getting man handled by a horny alpha sure as hell didn’t help.”

The psychic was starting to perch on the bed to watch some television, when a piercing pain suddenly shot through his head and the vision of a young man appeared in front of his cornea. As always when it came to these things, Sam felt the person’s emotions crawl into his bones, and he had to take a steady grip against the bedside table, or he feared he would take a nose dive. Then suddenly he saw Gordon Walker, knife flashing simultaneously with his grin.

“You’re no Samuel Singer,” Gordon cocks his head at the young man, holding the blade up,” But, I don’t care as long as I snuff out at least one damn psychic. I have to, you see, it’s the mission I was given. My purpose. If even just one of you lives, then I have failed…”

The young man whimpers, shaking his head frantically,” Please, don’t, my powers t-they – God, I can’t do what the others can do,” He’s sobbing at this point as he screams,” I’m not a threat!”

The knife thrust forward in his vision and red substance of claret splattered across the yellowing wall behind. For a second Sam felt as if he was the one that was stabbed, and he shut his eyes against the pain that ripped through his abdomen. Whimpering, he curled into himself over the bed, afraid that he would get sick as nausea dwelled up inside him like a rising tide. To his relief nothing of sorts happened and with a shaky hand he fumbled to grab the headboard.

Outside he hears the rumbling purr of the Impala, and immediately Sam grits out,” Dean!” He tried to push back against the headboard, to try and hoist himself up, “Dean!

There was a thunder of footfalls coming up the pavement outside. Just as he was getting up, the door of the room opened, and Dean came in with a few bags of food and a tray of coffee. He cocked his head at Sam in a concerned searching manner while he stood frozen, taking panicked breaths, and looking for answers. “Sam?”

Swallowing hard he ran his hand through his dampened dark, unruly hair. The headache made it hard to think and he breathed hard while doing his best to stifle the nausea that burned in his gut. “V-vision,” Sam finally manages to gasp out, spots swimming in his vision,” I saw something…”

"Figured out that much. Your dad told me about them,” Dean muttered,” What happened?"

"There was this young man… and he was a psychic, too,” He paused briefly as he raised a hand to his forehead. The latter raised his eyebrow but didn't comment,” Gordon was there and, fuck, he killed him, Dean. He stabbed him.”

The alpha gently patted his knee, and asks,” Are you okay? Bobby told me visions take a lot out of you.”

“M’ fine,” The omega murmurs with a brief nod,” Just need to sit down for a bit.”

“…There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Sam winces, and takes a deep, shaking breath,” Yes,” He admits, turning away from the latter, so as not to meet his burning emerald gaze,” Gordon said something about having to kill psychics. That it was his mission. But, the demon, Brady, said that he wasn’t killing them, that he was taking them away and ‘putting them with the others.’ And he kept on saying something about this guy named Azazel.”

“So what?” The alpha questions, raising an eyebrow,” So, they’re on opposing sides, and psychics are just caught in the middle?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thinking,” The omega utters as he takes a shaking breath, “That newspaper that I was reading in the diner… the front page was a piece on a massive surge in missing teens. Almost all of them I knew as other psychics. And at first, I was just thinking that maybe their bodies hadn’t been found yet but now I’m thinking… they were taken by Brady. Which means they can still be alive.”

“But why is Brady taking them? And who the hell is Azazel?”

“I don’t know,” The psychic answers, “We need to call our dads and tell them. They need to know that they’re going to have to keep an eye out for two people instead of one.”

“You’re still not saying something, Sammy.”

“Gordon said my name… He’s after me now specifically, Dean,” The psychic states softly, trying to avoid the latter’s eyes,” Now I’ve got a horny demon on my tail and a psycho hunter.”

“What? No,” The hunter snarls,” Sam, you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to let either of them lay a damn finger on you.”

Sam stays silent for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face,” You need to go back, Dean,” He says finally,” Gordon I trust you can handle, but Brady is an entirely different matter. He’s a damn demon, Dean. There’s only so much hunters can do to fight them!”

“Like you can do much more!”

“I-I can...”

“…What? What in the hell are you talking about? Sam, even I know, there’s no way a psychic can take a demon!”

The omega takes another breath and starts to explain, “An individual psychic’s abilities varies depending on their training and the strength of their innate gift or gifts,” He sighs and runs his fingers through his still damp hair,” But, it’s assumed that no matter how strong a psychic gets, they can’t knock heads with a demon. Well, that may not be so true as of late.”

The alpha’s lips become a thin line as he observes,” You were able to use your powers against that demon bastard. That’s how you were able to hold off that prick long enough for me to get there.”

The psychic nods and admits,” When Brady first attacked me, I was able to muster enough energy to subdue him with a telekinetic blast. Knocked him on his ass, and even he seemed surprised.”

“So, what?” Dean questions, throwing his hands in the air,” You want me to just ditch your ass based on the fact that you were able to subdue a demon for a full ten seconds! Well la-di-frickin-da! What else would you like me to do? Hogtie you and stick an apple in your mouth, before I go?”

“Damn it, Dean!” Sam exclaims and the furniture in the room begins to shake,” If you stay with me, you will end up dead! You can’t take on a demon, but at least I have a damn chance. And those psychics that are still missing, some of them are my friends, Dean! I can’t just do nothing, knowing that they’re out there!”

Dean squints his eyes, and spits out, “What about me? Am I supposed to just do nothing?”

“You won’t be doing nothing! Go with our dads, tell them what we know now, so that they can better take care of the other psychics. You guys can take care of Gordon, so that I can handle Brady.”

Dean’s eyes widen and his eyebrows raise,” Oh hell no,” He shakes his head and laughs coldly,” Do you know what my dad will do to me if I let you run off on your own, when some horny demon is skipping around with a bounty on your head? He would sodomize me with my own shotgun – Would you stop shaking the furniture? Jesus!

Sam shoots him a glare, but takes a deep breath, and after a moment the furniture stills. “You’re not coming with me,” The omega scoffs.

“Well you’re sure as hell not going alone, Sammy,” The alpha growls, suddenly grabbing the latter’s wrist and pulling him close. Face to face, lips almost brushing, the two succumb to a state of tense silence, neither willing to back down.

“You think I won’t make you stay behind?”

A sharp intake of breath and flicker of eyes. “You promised me you’d never go in my head.”

“I did,” Sam admits,” But if it means keeping you away from the line of fire, then I’ll do just about anything.”

Then after a moment, Sam leans closer, the top of his lip barely grazing Dean’s. Dean releases a startled breath, his eyes widening as the latter’s heady spearmint scent envelopes him. With everything going on, they’d both forgotten about the sexual tension caused by the omega’s abrupt heat. A storm brews in the alpha’s eyes as he pushes forward to meet their dry, hot lips at last. In that exact moment, Sam smashed the relatively hard bone at the top of his head into the latter’s face, effectively knocking him out cold.

“That had to hurt,” Sam winces, rubbing the top of his head.

Chapter Text

 Sam Singer trudged along the road at a sedate pace, his mind focused on the gentle footsteps that seemed to echo throughout the desolate area. He has his thumb protruding over the side of the road, his eyes darting around for any sign of a car. He sighs in relief when a solitary car pulls over a few feet from him. A middle-aged man exits the vehicle, giving him a friendly smile as he grasps his door.

“Hey, where you headed?” The man questions, his smile not faltering.

Sam was no idiot, however, so he took a cautionary sniff. There was no tell-tale smell of an alpha or omega, so the man was a beta. The man wasn’t a threat, which made what he was about to do that much worse in his eyes.

“Hi, I’m really sorry about this,” The omega greets, before sighing and saying, “Get everything you own from the vehicle, then leave me the keys and start walking.”

The man’s eyes widen, before he immediately obeys, and begins pocketing random little items scattered about the vehicle. He shoves in an unopened packet of cigarettes, a lighter, his wallet, and a solitary piece of chewing gum. The psychic hated using his powers in ways like this, but he couldn’t risk the man getting dragged along into everything that was happening. He was perfectly fine risking his own life, hell, it was what he was raised to do, but he was also taught not to drag someone else along for the ride.

Sam doesn't even notice the Impala pulling in behind the car he was about to steal until Dean is exiting the vehicle and barking,” You have got to be kidding with me on this, right?"

“Dean – “Before he can even finish his sentence, he saw the alpha’s furled fist flying into his face. The omega falls flat onto his ass with a muffled “oomph”. The hunter easily hoists him back up by his shirt and shoves him against the driver-side of the impala.

Dean points his finger in Sam’s face as he hisses, “You’re lucky I didn’t knock your lights out. I just didn’t feel like lugging your giant carcass into the car!”

Meanwhile, the man the omega was about to steal a car from stood off to the side, looking unsure of what to do. The alpha made a shooing motion with his hands, but the poor, confused man didn’t understand. The middle-aged man signaled this by shaking his head and tried handing his keys to the psychic. The hunter just about had enough when he snatched the keys and shoved them back into the man’s hands, groaning aloud when he just tried to hand them right back.

Dean leaned close into Sam’s face, his voice dangerously low as he commands,” Let him go,” When the latter didn’t respond, he lets out a deep, throaty growl and bares his teeth.

Sam’s cheeks began to redden as he almost inclined his neck to the side to submit to the alpha. It was a well-known fact that all alphas had some form of control over omegas, and omegas were most submissive during their heats. The omega felt a little betrayed, this alpha, the one that he would dare to call a friend, was taking advantage of his semi-vulnerable state. The accelerants had certainly given him a good bit of relief, but that overwhelming need to submit himself to the nearest alpha, to be claimed wholly and fully, still lingered.

“Get back into your car and drive away. Forget this ever happened,” Sam chokes out, his heart beating uncontrollably in his chest. The man quickly obeys and clambers back into his vehicle and going back down the road until he’s a fading dot in the distance. Once they were alone, the omega snaps, “You punched me!”

“You head-butted me,” The alpha counters, poking the latter’s chest with every word,” I’m going to have a knot on my head the size of a damn quarter because your Cro-Magnon noggin! You got off easy, if anything, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam growls, shoving the latter off of him,” Look, you’re either going to force me to stay low or you’re going to try and tag along with me, neither of which is ideal to me.”

Dean narrows his eyes, and states,” Well you don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“I’m not going to hide while everyone else, people like me, are out there getting picked off one by one! Not if there’s even the tiniest chance that I can do something. It’s not in me,” Sam exclaims,” I’m also not going to drag you into a fight that you’re not a part of, so – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What makes you think this is just your fight?” Dean questions,” It’s my job to keep people safe. To hunt things that are a threat to those just trying to live a normal life – It doesn’t matter if I don’t know them or if they’re not even my kind…It’s what I was raised to do, so, yeah, it’s my fight too.”

“I didn’t think that things that weren’t their kind are on a hunter’s agenda,” Sam says bitterly.

Dean shrugs nonchalantly, and answers,” Not everything that isn’t human, is qualified to be a monster. I mean, I haven’t strung you up by your toes yet now have I?”

The omega gives him a sad smile as he whispers,” I was raised by a hunter that had a considerable influence over the hunting community. And I was used as a ringer in case things got too rough,” He sighed leaning against the driver-side door as he crosses his arms over his stomach,” I got lucky.”

The alpha hadn’t thought about, but he supposed if the psychic hadn’t been raised the way he had, he probably wouldn’t check out with many hunters. Psychics like Sam and Pamela were lucky, they’d established themselves as allies to hunters, and had proven themselves to be useful. Hell, he’d heard long-winded stories of a powerful psychic, Bobby Singer’s son, dropping a car on top of a wraith with his damn mind or making a werewolf shoot itself in the head with the very gun it had stolen. Imagining that kind of fire power on the other side, it was unfathomable, terrifying, to say the least.

“And even then…” The psychic trails off.

“You changed people’s memories? You can make them decide to do things?” The woman asked, not looking up from her glass.

Sam nodded shyly. “Oh, but I wouldn’t make anyone do anything bad. I would never do anything cruel to anyone,” Sam defends himself with a shake of his head,” My dad taught me to never - “

She abruptly stood up and slammed her drink down on the table. “How many people did you screw around with,” She hisses, stepping close to him,” Tell me!”

He blinked rapidly, and say,” I don’t… just a few?”

“How many?”

“I don’t know, maybe seven? All tinto things,” The young psychic tries to explain.

“But you’ll have to change that maid’s memories too, won’t you, so she won’t remember seeing us? And that boy, the one around your age, so he doesn’t go tell his mother. Oh, and of course, all of the gardeners, and all the kitchen workers, and the tutor - Every member of the damn staff,” Her voice rose, louder and angrier,“How do I, or any of the other hunters that work with your father know that, you won’t do the same to us if the situation calls for it? That we can even trust you?”

“Please, of course you can trust me! I would never make you - “

She recoiled like he’d struck her,” Did you just… get the hell out of my head, now! Stop it!” 

“But I don’t…”

 “You just made these decisions, and you messed around with people’s heads, with their memories… what if you’d got something wrong? You could have turned them into drooling invalids!”

“I wouldn’t get it wrong, it’s not how it works--”

“You’re a freak,” She snarls, slowly backing away,” A damn freak. Tell your daddy to lose my number. I don’t want to have to set a damn foot near you ever again.”

“Any psychic packing as much heat as you do, that wasn’t on our side, would be pumped full of buckshot before they could even lift a finger,” Dean agrees solemnly, before grinning and asking,” Did you seriously drop a car on top of a wraith?”

Sam’s lips became a thin line as he replied,” Well, yeah, but – “

“Holy shit,” The hunter’s grin grew wider.

“I was a lot more of a show-off, then,” The psychic mumbles, looking rather embarrassed,” Nowadays the most theatrical I get with my powers is, well, what you’ve seen lately. And sometimes I’ll move the television remote – “

Dean rolled his eyes playfully and leaned against the car beside him as he states,” I wish you’d get a little more theatrical.” 

“I may have to,” Sam says softly,” If we do this together, you have to promise me something.”

“What is it?” Dean questions, one brow raised.

“I’m not the only one with a reputation. You Winchesters are known for your idiotic acts of heroism,” The omega responds turning his head so he’s looking into the alpha’s eyes,” Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, Dean.”

The alpha chuckles, and bumps his shoulder against the latter,” I’m not going to do anything stupid, unless the situation calls for it, Sammy. Besides, sometimes my idiocy comes in handy, hell, it’s gotten me this far.”

Sam tries to stop it, to keep up his façade of not giving a damn whether Dean went with him or not, but he gave the alpha a big, dimply smile that would put a cherub to shame. In complete honesty, the omega was terrified to go this alone. The alpha had already saved his ass on multiple occasions. And he had a deep appreciation for his company, one that could even exceed friendship in some distant future. Perhaps, if they survived this entire ordeal, he’d allow the hunter to take their relationship a step further.

Dean doesn’t move his shoulder, and almost leans into Sam as he murmurs,” Our dads are going to have our throats when all of this shit blows over.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles, leaning into the touch,” At least I get to make a run for it, seeing as I’m heading off to college.”

Until then, they had a friendship - - rare and profound one - - from the day they’d met. The kind of friendship that was rare between an alpha and omega, a relationship that wasn’t revolving around a simple, yet repetitive cycle. Heat, knot, pups, repeat. Sometimes Sam found it astounding he hadn’t known Dean for the entirety of his life. Although the omega was trying to keep his psychic talents under rein, to earn the trust the alpha had shown him, the omega knew that there were some feelings that exceeded friendship between them

Dean offers his knuckle, giving him a goofy grin. “By the way,” The omega says, shoving the alpha’s knuckle away,” I don’t use my powers of persuasion on you. I expect you to do the same.”

“Look, Sammy – “The hunter tries to reason.

“No,” The psychic cuts him off, “I may be an omega, but I’m also a psychic. A powerful one at that. If you try and control me again, I’ll get into your head and make you think you’re a white-collar man on a low-carb diet that drives a blue Prius.”

The look of legitimate horror on Dean’s face is almost comical as he utters,” You’re kidding, right?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Sam states plainly, waltzing over to the passenger side of the impala.

The alpha shakes his head, opening his own door, muttering under his breath,” So much for no theatrics.”

The omega rolls his eyes, and asks, “Do you want to know where I was headed or were you just planning on driving in a straight line until we hit something?”

“Alright, wise-ass,” Dean scoffs, and questions, “Where are we headed?”

“Saginaw, Michigan. An old friend of mine lives there,” Sam explains, “He’s one of the few psychics that I know, that hasn’t been taken or gutted in an alleyway. If I can convince him, he may be able to help us.”

“If your boyfriend doesn’t get to him first…”




A gust of dry wind winds through the maze of ancient houses where windows have long shattered in the weakness of their structures and rotting boards, some broken, others hanging try to cover the empty eyes of every abandoned home. Doors hang on the few threads of their hinges and groan with pain at every sway. Weeds socialize across the cracking asphalt of every road, gathering and laughing at the lone pedestrian as they try to weave around the catching fingers with every step.

Scott Carey was limping, the gait that was smooth only the previous morning was faltering and uneven. Ragged, loose hair fell over his features that contorted with effort. On his feet there were only socks, and a second pair was over his trembling hands as make-shift mittens. He shook uncontrollably, gentle tears cascading down his cheeks as he stumbled forward a few more steps, before falling onto his knees. He closed his eyes, the tears falling faster as he spread his arms apart, tilting his head back to the night sky.

“I’m done fighting!” Scott cries into the night. The others had no doubt heard him and were on their way to finish him off.

The psychic can practically hear their eager breathing, their frantic heartbeats’ thumping away in their chests at the thrill of the chase. One emerges from behind a building, blonde hair a tangled mess over shaking, bony shoulders – Lily Baker. Scott lowers his arms back down to his sides, his breath fogging in the freezing night air as Lily edges forward ever so slowly. Her face is drenched in dry and crusty blood, her eyes maniac as they flicker back and forth.

“I-I won’t be a pawn,” Scott chokes out,” Not a damn second longer.”

Lily raises a trembling hand towards him as she whispers,” You idiot, no one knew where you were,” She shakes her head, her eyes starting to water,” You could have stayed hidden. You could have – Fuck! I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, but I must. I have to or th-they…” 

“The others they’re coming, you don’t have to finish me off,” Scott says, but then his lips stretch into a thin smile,” But, you want to. Don’t you, Lily?”


Scott takes a shaking breath, and nods knowingly. “That’s why I have to die. I’m not like the rest of you. I haven’t given into the disease like the rest of you,” He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a scream,” I don’t like it.”

“If it’s worth anything… I am sorry,” Lily apologizes.

“It’s not. Hell, since I’m about to die anyway, I might as well – You can take that apology and shove it up your ass,” Scott responds with a cold laugh. But that same laugh stutters as his cries become muffled sobs. He bows his head, his chin settled against his chest as he begs,” Please…just end it.”

Lily shuts her eyes, and slowly extends her hand towards the thin fabric that covered Scott’s heart. The sobbing had stopped so very suddenly. One minute he was right in her face, more alive than he had ever been, and the next he was meat on the ground below. Lily gently ran her fingers over his lids, shutting them as if he were asleep.

“…Are you happy?” Lily grits out, angrily wiping away her tears. Yellow eyes illuminate in the distant darkness, and her breath hitches as she whispers,” How many more?”

The yellow eyed demon’s voice is like a whisper in the wind as he answers,” …Six.”

Lily closes her hand into fist, not even flinching when Scott’s body began to vibrate ever so slightly; drops of blood drew from his skin and floated into the air. The other children would have heard Scott’s screams, she had to go, run, hide – Kill. She began crying again, her hand going over her mouth as the corpse stilled. Gentle drops of blood fell like rain. Lily stood up, extending her hands forward prepared to tear the next living being that came near her apart, cell by cell.

Azazel grinned.


May 29, 1999


Gordon grinned, shifting his hands on the girl’s bare, pale shoulders, chuckling deeply in his throat as she trembles at his touch. The girl, one of the many faceless psychics that had been in his list, might actually prove useful. She, like Sam Singer, was very gifted with telepathy, but unlike the latter, she didn’t have any additional gifts.

"Can you use your powers at this distance?"

"Y-yes, “The girl whimpers, as the knife against her throat presses harder,” Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me.”

The hunter asked, pulling away his knife and sheathed it,” Are you up for a little reconnaissance for me? One of your fellow psychics is trying to make a run for it and I'd like to find out where he is.”

He'd surprised the girl with this request, and she sputters,” I can't touch another psychic’s mind without them knowing right away."

Gordon nodded, “I know this, but there is human with him, a particularly block-headed alpha. How easy would it be to look for their whereabouts in his mind? Perhaps, even figure out just what they’re up to?”

"Um, d-depending on how deeply it's buried? It should fairly easily regardless but the deeper it is,” She quivers and gulps heavily as she answers,” …the more energy it will take and t-the bigger the chance the psychic will become aware of my presence – “

“Can you do this?"

"…I can try," The psychic says softly,” I just have to know who it is I’m looking for.”

“Dean Winchester.”

She nods, and her eyes widen as she stared off in the distance. She nodded ever so slowly, still concentrating. “I’ve found him, he’s with another psychic. A-an extraordinarily strong one,” She flinches and gulps heavily again,” Let’s see what I can find..." Before the words were completely out of her mouth, she flinched again, her head snapping a little as if from an invisible blow.

"Did Sam find you?" Gordon asked cautiously.

"No,” She muttered under her breath,"It looks like he’s built some pretty strong mental defense, against the other psychic. He doesn’t want him in his mind – Anyone for that matter…”

The psychic’s expression was pained as she focused on her powers once again. She didn't keep up her commentary after that, obviously working harder on finding the information inside of Dean’s mind than she'd expected she would have to. There were a few more flinches on her end but nothing as forceful as that first one, which she meant she was dealing easily with whatever defenses the hunter had raised against her.

“Well, did you find anything -?”

The girl was nodding in response when her head jerked back again, so sharply that she slammed back where she was sitting, remaining upright solely because of the hands holding her place. She'd just opened her eyes, when she let out a painful gasp before she flinches violently.

“What happened?" The hunter slapped a hand aginst her face in emphasis.

"Sam," The girl cried through gritted teeth,”He’s trying to push me out of his mind,”She raised a hand to her forehead,”I’ve never meet a psychic with natural power as strong as this – It can’t be natural, he must have some kind of –“ She screamed in agony as she gripped either side of her head, thrashing herself from side to side. Then after several seconds she went completely still, and a single stream of blood dropped from the corner of her mouth.

Gordon places two fingers over a spot on her neck, frowning when there was only a faint pulse. “Great,” He mutters,” Just great.” 

Abruptly the girl sits up, her eyes squinting as they settle on the hunter. “Gordon. Gordon Walker,” She says, her lips a thin line, “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” 

“Samuel Singer,” Gordon inquires.




Dean Winchester threw another map into the backseat with a frustrated grunt. He shuffles thought he many laying sprawled across his lap, before randomly picking one and began scanning his eyes over it. Sam Singer watched the scene unfold with an amused grin and sat up from his slouched position on the door. Dean gave him the stink-eye, which only made Sam’s grin widen.

“Damn it!” Dean exclaims tossing another map behind his head,” I hate this navigating shit! My dad usually does it for me.”

Sam laughs softly, before addressing his friend,” You know I could just…” He wiggles his fingers beside his temple. The alpha raised a brow at that, and the omega says,” I could implant where Max Miller is in your mind, so you don’t have to – “

“No, Sam. Just. Just let me…” The blatant answer actually made the omega flinch. The alpha puts a hand over his face and takes a deep breath, “Sam, I’m sorry. But I can’t let you in. I can’t stand…” He trails off.

Immediately Dean’s eyes fill with regret, but he goes completely silent. The omega bows his head slightly, staring at the hands settled on his lap. He flinched again when he felt one of the latter’s hands settle on his, a gentle, reassuring presence. He quickly pulls his hand away, as if burned, and keeps his head bowed.

“Sam – “Then all of a sudden, Dean goes stock still, his eyes staring dead ahead. Sam lifts his head up, and he gasps softly. He snaps his fingers repeatedly in front of the alpha’s placid face, starting to panic when he doesn’t react. The omega then raises his hand and fired a swift slap across the alpha’s cheek. His head moves with the slap, but he doesn’t flinch or make any noise to signify that he felt any pain.

“Oh, no,” Sam whispers,” Dean… Dean! God, he’s never going to trust me again.” He closes his eyes, and inhaled deeply, exhaling a few seconds later.

As many times as Sam had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t go into Dean’s mind, he found himself waltzing into it, as easy as anyone else’s. And much to his surprise, he didn't feel like he was intruding. If anything, he felt welcome, unlike the other presence he immediately sensed upon entering. Immediately memories were pushed at him; Dean driving the Impala for the first time; Dean riding a rusty old bike that he found in a junk yard; salt scattering across a floorboard as he screams. One in particular stood at the forefront of his thoughts. Sam is back in his own house again, but there are several older men packed in the living room. They’re all weary eyed, sprawled over various pieces of furniture, most nursing a beer or cigarette as they murmur softly among themselves.

“-Mary… gone…”

“Poor, boy – “

“John... yellow-eyed demon scum – “

A little boy with wide emerald hues, still wearing his dinosaur pajamas is wandering around the room, a few of his fingers suckled in his mouth. The men in the room shoot pitiful eyes at his back. Bobby Singer enters the room, his arms loaded with cheap beer, that he begins to distribute among the men. Then his eyes lay upon the boy and soften substantially, as he lowers to his knees. The boy removes his moist fingers from his mouth and wipes them in the side of his pajama bottoms.

“W’ere, mommy?” He mumbles softly.

Bobby sighs, running a hand down his face. John Winchester has tried to explain to his young son many times, but the boy was simply too young to understand the concept of death. Mary Winchester has been one of the many hunters claimed in the recent fire, but John remained unconvinced, which is why young Dean is now settled at his house. The seasoned hunter doesn’t want to try and explain, so he simply ruffles the boy’s hair.

Dean smiles ever so slightly at that and begins combing his fingers through the dirty blonde strands. Then a loud, shrill cry echoes throughout the house making every man in the room jump. Bobby lets out an unamused grunt and briskly exits the room, making his way into his own room at the very end of the hall. The cry turned into a sob, then into a gurgling noise, which only made the hunter walk faster. Dean stays on his heels, curious to see the owner of the loud, unfamiliar noises that made his heart beat heavily in his chest.

Bobby entered his room and made his way to an old, second-hand crib nestled in the corner. He stoops over and scoops out a wiggling blue bundle that amplifies the loud, unfamiliar noises. Dean puts his hands over his ears and chooses to stay at the doorway. The hunter sighs, and begins bouncing the bundle in his folded arms, gently shushing the wiggling thing that refused to fall silent. After a moment, the creature in the hunter’s arms quieted down, and Dean dared to take his hands off his ears.

“What is it?” Dean asks, edging closer to Bobby.

“This is Sam. And he’s a baby, not an it,” Bobby says gently, still rocking the now still thing in his arms,” One of your daddy’s friends found him in one of the fires. He was brought here so he could be taken care of, just until I can find him a home.” 

The young boy cocks his head to the side, taking a step closer as he questions,” Aren’t you goin’ to keep it?”

“No,” The hunter snorts,” I…” He trails off, and gives the infant in his arms a gentle, almost maternal look.

Dean shyly inquires,” Can I hold him…?”

Bobby raises a brow at the young boy, before answering,” I don’t see why not, but you’re still pretty little yourself. Why don’t you sit down – “

As quickly as he could, the boy was sitting on the chair with his hands folded in his arms. The hunter chuckled at that and began walking towards him. Dean tried to see Sam, but he was holding him to high. Bobby lowered himself down, settling the bundle from his arms until it was nearly in Dean’s waiting arms.

“You ready, Dean?” Bobby asked,” You can’t drop him, okay? If he’s too heavy, just tell me.”

Dean nodded quickly, wanting to meet the baby. Bobby gently set the bundle in Dean’s arms, his heart nearly jumping from his chest when Sam opens his eyes. The hunter closes his eyes, and flinched, prepares for the wailing to resume, but was surprised when only a soft cooing exited the baby’s mouth. Sam stayed still in Dean’s arms, his big doe-eyes fixed on the young boy in front of him.

Dean extends his hand forward, and strokes Sam’s cheek softly. The baby had the nicest eyes Dean had ever seen. His eyes were the color of milk chocolate edged with a deep forest-green. Sometimes the two colors seemed to swirl together like moss creeping over rich soil. His little face glowed from a light within, and his miniature fingers grasped the boy’s, and held tight.

Dean smiles and copies the rocking motion Bobby had used earlier to calm down the baby. Sam opens his little mouth, another soft coo exiting his lips as he shifts in the boy’s arms. Dean gently pets down the soft hair on the top of the baby’s head, smoothing back the light brown strands as Sam starts to wiggle again. His baby smile was as sweet as a summer strawberry and filled him with a sunshine he never knew existed in the world.

“Sammy,” Dean murmurs,” Sammy. My Sammy.”

Sam doesn’t even realize it, but a single tear tracks down his face. The memory is tender, gentle, and something that he would never expect Dean to share. After that, it’s all a blur. The memory is obviously old, so he isn’t surprised when the details, thus the image starts to grow foggy. Considering how young Dean was at the time, he’s surprised the memory was able to last that long.

Sam looks down, seeing his own hands as he continues walking about the fading memory. He seems to have manifested a somewhat physical form in Dean’s mind, but he was still limited to what his own mind could do. Then the psychic flinches when he feels that other presence again. Someone was still lurking in Dean’s mind, trying to get past his defenses. Sam raises two fingers to his temple, and closes his eyes, calling out to the other psychic.

‘Get out,’ Sam warns,’This mind is under my protection, and should you try and violate it, you’ll be facing me. And I think we both know who will prevail.’

The other end is static, before a soft, trembling voice replies,’I don’t care if I have to tear his mind apart. I will find what I came for. I have to,’ There’s a muffled sob, and the voice returns,’Or he’s going to kill me.’

‘I assure you, if you don’t exit this mind right now, you’ll suffer a far worse fate at my hands,’ He states coldly,’The man who is holding you, if he gets this information, he will find me, and he will kill me. I could care less about that, if it weren’t for the fact that if I die, the rest of our kind will follow…’

‘Shut up!’ She hissed in response,’I will break down his defenses – ‘

‘No! Stop,’ Sam orders,’The mind is a fragile thing, if you tear down these defenses, he’s built…’

‘I know.’

The omega closes in on the other presence, enveloping it,’I’m trying to save the rest of us. I have to save the others! Please, please, leave this mind,’ He constricts, and he feels the presence falter in the alpha’s mind,’If you don’t leave now, I’ll have no choice, but make sure you can’t get back in again…’

‘You won’t…’ The girl whispers,’You’re too soft.’

Sam completely suffocates the presence, snuffing it out like a moist finger pressing against the burning wick of a candle. And then he follows her mind’s presence as it retreats towards her own body. When they both inhabit the body, he pushes her mind’s presence back, back into the further recesses of her body, until he is alone.

Abruptly the girl sits up, her eyes squinting as they settle on the hunter. “Gordon. Gordon Walker,” She says, her lips a thin line, “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

“Samuel Singer,” Gordon inquires as his lips pull into a tight grin. He pulls his knife out from its sheath,” “I’ve been looking for you, for quite a while. I thought I had you in South Dakota, but then you just up and vanished.”

“Sorry to cause you so much trouble.” The girl stands from the chair, and pushes her hand forward, her face twisted in determination. When nothing happens, she frowns, and takes a step back.  

“You’re smart, Sammy,” Gordon utters following the girl as she stumbles backwards, “Surely you know this blade? It’s got quite the history if I recall correctly. The man who gave it to me, some guy in a dirty trench coat told me enough… It allows the holder to neutralize psychic powers, and it is my mission to use it, to take out as many psychics as possible to prevent the end of times.”

“So, a homeless man gave you a knife and told you that you were going to save the world? Forgive me if I’m not convinced,” Sam hisses, balling the girl’s tiny fists at her sides.

Gordon smirks, and states, “Its powers are quite bendable to what the holder wants. I can keep you trapped in that body, but make sure that you’re not able to use any more of your powers.”

Sam didn't know who threw the first punch, but suddenly the girl’s fist was slamming into Gordon’s face while his sunk into her stomach. Blood pooled in her mouth as she gagged. They stumbled apart for a brief second to catch their breaths before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination. She dodged his fist and came up with my own; for a brief instant, his eyes widened before he managed to tilt his head back and slam it into hers. Stars burst in her vision, and she tried to shake it off, but the body wasn’t fit for any kind of fighting.

Gordon took a step forward, pity in his eyes as he says, “At least this body you’re inhabiting will bleed out far quicker than yours. You won’t be in any pain longer than necessary.”

“G-go to hell….”

The knife met flesh, soft and pudgy, and made a satisfying squish as the tip of the blade sank deep enough to make the girl scream. Gordon twisted the blade in his hands, all the while sinking it deeper and deeper. Then, without warning, he jerked it all the way into her back, until the shiny metal had disappeared inside her and the handle was pushing against her broken skin. Her cry was a pathetic sound, guttural chokes mixed with an agonized sob.

The girl opens her mouth, a stream of blood exiting as she gurgles, “You promised… You said you would let me live if I…”

“You’re not Samuel,” Gordon frowns and grits out, “How did he escape? Answer me!” He turned away as her pleads became quieter, the bitter tang of blood tingling in his nostrils.

Sam wakes up in his own body with a gasp, feeling a little unsteady even in his seat. The omega found himself leaning heavily on the alpha and his face a lot closer than he'd expected. Dean’s eyes flickered to Sam’s lips and back to his eyes and he couldn't help but lean in, stopping with barely a scant inch between them.

“Are you okay?” Dean breathes.

“Yeah,” Sam responds softly, absently wiping a spot of blood away from his nose,” The psychic that was in your mind, she was sent by Gordon. He wanted her to find out where we were, what we were up to, any information he could his hands on.”

The alpha questions,” He didn’t get anything, did he? I tried blocking her from my mind, but she was starting to break through – God. It felt like someone was driving a bolt between my eyes.”

“No,” The omega answers, holding his sleeve to his still bleeding nose,” I managed to stop her before she could get anything back to that demon dick-head. I-I had to… to take over her body. And I talked to Gordon.”

“You did?”

The psychic nods and wraps his arms around his body. “He seems to believe he’s on a mission to prevent the end of the world. One given to him by a man in a dirty trench coat.”

“Maybe he’s an angel,” Dean jokes with a lopsided grin, “Did you find anything else out?”

“Yeah. I figured out how he’s been killing the psychics. An ancient relic, that was thought to be lost for hundreds of years. The Gedagte knife. It was said to be created by a coven of witches, to neutralize a psychics power,” Sam explains with a thoughtful look on his face, “How he obtained it is beyond me. Of course, he claims the man in the dirty trench coat gave it to him.”

The two stay silent for a while. Dean turns his key in the ignition, and the engine purrs to life as he adjusts his hands on the wheel. Sam sighs deeply, and leans against his door, purposely keeping his back to Dean. The alpha opens his mouth to ask the one question resounding in his head. ‘What did you see in my mind?’ He knew the omega had to do it, there was clearly no other option in the matter, but the thought of someone else invading his own personal thoughts, his wants, his dreams – He shakes his head.

Dean clears his throat, and says,” We should probably get going, find a phone. Our dads have probably noticed by now that I haven’t checked in since last night, no doubt they’re blowing up the hotel phone as we speak.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees softly.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

The omega glances up and hisses, “You know what’s wrong, Dean.

“Sam – “

“You’ve shut me out of your head, well and good.”

“I’m trying, okay?” Dean barks, “I am trying so hard, Sam. But…”

“But what?”

The alpha closes his eyes, his hands gripping tight on the steering wheel. “The things that you can do… I despise them, Sam,” He turns to the latter, his lips a thin line, “In my line of work, I’ve had to harden myself to protect myself from the things that will go after me and my family. I’m not used to not being in control of my emotions. I despise your powers because they make me feel… on edge. Afraid.”

“Damn it, Dean, you try and forge a friendship with me and then you despise me for my abilities. For being what I am,” The omega barks out, turning to the latter with a huff,” And I get it, okay? It’s not the same for everyone else, but for me…” He growls in frustration and opens his door.

“Sam,” Dean groans,” Where are you going?”

“For some air.”

“Sam!” The alpha grabs the latter’s wrist, and yanks him back into the car,” Look, Sam. I’ve spent too much of my life with nothing personal kept to myself. And I had to fight tooth and nail to get it back,” Dean states, not releasing the form grip on the latter’s wrists, “I don’t despise you, idiot. And I’m sure as hell not afraid of you. I could never, ever think so low of you. I’m just afraid you’re going to look inside me, and not like what you find. I’m sorry that I can’t truly and wholly accept you for who you are, Sammy, but believe me… I won’t stop trying.”

Sam closes his eyes, and slowly nods,”Okay.” 

“As long as you’re not looking into anything else, I think I’d appreciate it if you showed me how to get to Max Miller’s,” Dean states, wiggling his fingers near his temple.

Sam smiles softly at that, and closes his eyes, relaying the information to Dean. The alpha shifts a little in his seat and lets out a gentle grunt. The omega opens his eyes, and looks at the latter nervously as he questions,” How did that feel?”

Dean grins,” Like you were fingering my brain,” He gets a smack on the arm for that comment,” And look, if you have any questions… you can just ask me like everyone else does. You don’t have to look into my head.”

All humor disappears from Sam’s face as he contemplates asking Dean the thing he’d been wondering since he saw that memory. He turns to face the latter directly as he utters,”I saw a memory inside your head, Dean. You were very young at the time, so I won’t be surprised if you’re unable to remember it,” He sets his hand on the latter’s and continues,”It was the night of your mother’s death.”

Immediately the alpha stiffens, and he squeezes the omega’s hand. “You saw that? Of all things you had to see,” His free hand runs over his face and he mutters,”I don’t remember much about that night. I just remember seeing my parents drive off, and only dad coming back… What did you see?”

“You were at my dad’s house. It was just after your dad had left to go after the thing that killed your mom, and –“

“The yellow-eyed demon.”

It was then Sam noticed the dark connection between the entire messes greatest mysteries, that the horror set in.

“I’m going to take my time with you. Have some fun first; Azazel will just have to wait up.”

Ol’ yellow eyes is going to have to wait, he can have you when I’m done – “

“And he kept on saying something about this guy named Azazel.”

“John... yellow-eyed demon scum – “

Sam freezes and stares at Dean with wide eyes. “Oh my, God. Dean I’m such an idiot. How didn’t I see it before…?”

“What? What is it Sammy?”

“Azazel, the man Brady kept mentioning isn’t a man at all… he’s the yellow-eyed demon. The thing that killed all those hunters, including your mom.”

Chapter Text

 May 29, 1999

“You know it’s strange, I could have sworn I told you to keep me updated on all that was happening in heaven,” Gabriel exclaims, adjusting his apron, before he continues mixing the contents of the bowl he holds under his arm,”Yet, here we are because I’m just now hearing that you’re the one that gave that psycho human one of the most powerful weapons in existence?” 

Castiel, in his current human vessel, had tousled dark brown hair with eyes that were a mesmerizing deep ocean blue. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eye brows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression.

 Castiel steps forward, his trench coat swaying behind him as the air conditioner behind him blows. “Gabriel,” The angel rumbles with his gruff, resonant voice,”I have been given a mission by my superiors, one that I cannot simply ignore, despite your objections -“

“Screw your mission!” Gabriel exclaims pointing the whisk at him,”This is bigger than an overpopulation of psychics, or whatever bullshit your superiors fed you! Take off your blindfold, Castiel! Don’t you see what they’re trying to do?”

Castiel very calmly looks into Gabriel’s eyes and states,”Nothing is covering my eyes, brother. I see clearly.”

Gabriel slams the bowl down on the table, tossing the whisk into the sink a couple of feet away. After a few moments, he massages his temples and growls,”Not literally, Cassie. Figuratively, damn it! Figuratively!” He lets out an exasperated sigh,”That human you gave the blade to is only a distraction! A way to divert the rest of humans’ eyes from the big picture. The demons have been plotting and scheming for years to bring back their creator, and they are close now. Closer than ever before. They are close to capturing his vessel.”

“His vessel?” Castiel questions with a frown,”Impossible. Heaven would have known long before now if he’d been born. Not unless… but there would be no…”

“Unless they wanted for his existence to remain a secret, until the time is right,” Gabriel concludes with a knowing look,”And the time is quickly approaching. If we do nothing, brother, then Lucifer will walk the earth in just a few days! Please, help me… Help me stop them. I cannot do it without you.”

“You barely outrank a lowly cupid, now,” Castiel hisses as his lips pull into a sneer,”You can hardly do anything on your own, Gabriel. You’ve been around humans for so long now, you’ve started to care for them I see. Especially that tall one.”

Gabriel narrows his eyes, and says,”I don’t need all of my grace to know what’s going on here, Cas. I’m asking you, I’m begging you, please... Help me!

As Gabriel scanned the other’s face for a reaction the silence hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. The archangel expected him to pull his angel blade, push a glowing palm forward or even move to strike him, but the other angel did none of those things. Instead Castiel just stood there, his face blank as the eyes of the dead.

Gabriel slowly nods, gulps heavily, before hissing,”I see. Still the good doggie to those angel dicks upstairs. Sit Castiel, fetch Castiel! Good boy, Castiel! Woof!

“Whatever happens, happens. Whatever my superiors are planning, is none of my concern... It is my place to carry out their orders, not question them. I am sorry, brother.” With a ruffle of wings, he’s gone.

“Damn it!” Gabriel screams, grabbing the bowl from the counter and throwing it at the wall. He slams his finger against the button of the stereo, blaring Rick James’s “Super Freak” over the speakers as he continues baking.






“Yeah, yeah, dad,” Dean mutters into the pay phone’s receiver, using his free hand to grip his head,”No, sir - Look he had a vision. This whole thing is a hell of a lot bigger than we thought it was! Gordon is after him now specifically. And he believes there’s a chance he can take a player off the board - The moron won’t be talked out of it!”

Sam rolled his eyes and threw a peanut shell at Dean’s head. The alpha made a shooing motion with his hand and continued talking with a frown etched onto his face. He nodded in comprehension and pulled the receiver away from his ear and turned to the omega, ”Your dad wants to talk to you.”

Sam nods and takes the receiver from him, hesitating for a second before bringing it to his ear,”Hey, dad.”

“You idjit!” Bobby yells making Sam flinch and hold the receiver away from his ear,”What in the hell are you thinking? I just had to hear from John Winchester that you think you’re strong enough to knock heads with a demon? Boy, do you remember last time you tried that kind of shit -“

Don’t!” Sam exclaims with a flinch, tightly gripping the receiver.

Bobby went quiet at that for a moment; the guilt from that night comes to haunt him again. Even after all this time it still cuts just as deep, but its visits are less frequent and softer in duration. He takes a deep breath, and listens to his son on the other end. It sounds like his breath is stuttering in his lungs before he let’s it go.

But the older man stiffened himself militarily and cleared his throat,”Son, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have... I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“No. No. Y-You were right to,” Sam chokes out, his grip loosening on the receiver. He swallows heavily and continues,”Things are different this time, dad. I’m stronger now. And I-I think that I at least have a chance at taking on Brady. Of maybe trying to rescue the other psychics and if they’re already gone... avenge them. I just need you to let me.”



“Alright,” Bobby repeats, clenching his jaw,”I knew you were something special," Bobby whispered, so low that Sam could barely hear him,”Hell, I’ve always known. But I don’t want you doing this because you think you can, I want you doing this because you know you can. Because you know you’re strong enough this time.”

“...I know I can,” Sam states.

“Good,” The older man says,”Me and John will get Gordon off your tail, so you can get to Brady. And if you need anything else, we’re just one call away. Be safe, boy.”

The omega nods and whispers,”I love you, dad.”

“You stop that now. Stop talking like this is the last damn time we’ll be speaking,” The alpha barks,”And besides, you already know how damn much I care for you, son. You don’t need to hear me say it.”

Sam scowls at that, his cheeks puffing out as he responds,”Making me do your dirty work was a funny way of showing it!"

"I'm a funny guy,” Bobby points out with a hint of a smile,”John still has some words to exchange with his boy. I’m about to have to hand off the phone - Be safe.”

“You too,” Sam replies with a hint of a smile. He takes the receiver and hands it off to Dean.

Dean holds it to his ear and utters, ”Dad, one last thing. Sam and I believe that there's someone pulling the strings on Brady, ordering him to kidnap the psychics that Gordon hasn't already gotten to, ” He nods at something the latter says and takes a shaking breath,”Azazel. The bastard’s name is Azazel. No, dad - We still haven’t figured out what his endgame is, but there’s something you have to know...”

Sam turns towards Dean, settling a hand on his shoulder and squeezing tightly. Dean sets his free hand on top of his and takes a deep breath.

“Azazel is the yellow eyed demon.” There’s silence on the other end. Then a click, signaling that his father had hung up. “Damn it! God knows what he’s up to now,” Dean exclaims, slamming the receiver back onto the hook,”Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”





“Uno!” Sam exclaims as he slams his second to last card on the discard deck.

Dean groans in frustration, tossing his pile of cards into the air so that they rain down on them. Sam laughs and pulls a blue card out of his mess of hair, tossing it in the latter’s direction. The hunter flops down on the cheap motel carpet, folding his hands behind his head. Then he uses one hand to grab the thing of alcohol he’s been sipping throughout the night and tips some back.

“I haven’t even won yet,” Sam states with smile, laying down on his stomach next to Dean.

“You may as well have. The rest of my cards were shit,” Dean mutters, taking another drink, before offering it to him,”You want a sip?”

Sam’s long hair goes over his face as he tips his head down. After a brief second he lifts his head and slowly nods, taking the bottle from him. He takes a quick drink and cringes at the taste, quickly handing it back to the latter.

“Not much of a drinker are we?” 

“I’m sixteen,” Sam huffs.

“The year of maturity for omegas,” Dean says with a lopsided smile,”And this omega is already going to college. An alpha college. You better learn to handle your liquor.”

The omega takes the bottle back from him and takes another mouthful, shoving it back into the latter’s hands. “I want to play another game,” He mutters, his cheeks already starting to redden from what little alcohol he’d consumed.

“Hmm,” The alpha hums, running his thumb over the omega’s flushed cheeks,”Omegas are notorious for their low alcohol tolerance, so whatever we play, I’ll at least have a chance at winning. What’ll we be playing?”

The psychic shrugs, and says,”Let’s just ask each other questions. Like, where’d you get that scar from?” He presses finger against a jagged scar sticking out from underneath the hunter’s shirt, right on his hip bone.

Dean hoped Sam had been telling the truth when he’d said he wouldn’t read his mind. The alpha went to answer, then a better idea struck him. He handed the bottle back to him.

“Alright, Sammy. Here’s the deal,” Dean explains,”You want to ask me questions? Fine. But you’re gonna have to pay for them. A mouthful of that for every answer,” He continues,”And I get to ask some of my own.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, and his lips quirk into a smile as he questions,”Funny. You realize I could just take the answers straight from your head?”

The hunter inclines his head forward, and points out,”No, you won’t. You promised, and you’re the sort that takes shit like that seriously.”

The psychic didn’t reply, although he did look vaguely irritated at the latter’s accurate assessment of him. Finally, with a long suffering sigh, he gives in,”Fine. But you have to do the same for me, when I answer your questions”.

“Sweet,” Dean states handing the bottle to Sam.

“Alright,” Sam said after swallowing. “There’s your payment. Now where’s my answer?”

The alpha snorts, and touches the scar. “Not an interesting story, really. Bar fight. A guy wasn’t too happy with me touching his lady,” He sighs,”It was an accident, but he didn’t care and pulled out a knife. Didn’t stab me, luckily, just managed to nick me.”

“You get into a lot of fights, don’t you?”

“I’m not good at much else,” Dean states with a sad smile. Then he grabs the bottle and takes a drink,”My turn. What else did you see, when you were in my head?”

“I told you already. I saw you at my dad’s house, the night that your mom died -“

“And I told you before, that I don’t remember a lot that happened that night. I-I want to know...”

Sam takes a shaking breath,”You were waiting at my dad’s house because your dad had just gone after the yellow-eyed demon. And it turns out that your mom wasn’t the only one that died that night all those years ago... Someone found me and brought me to my dad. He was taking care of me and was planning on giving me away, but someone changed his mind. You.”


“Yeah,” Sam confirms softly,”You held me in your arms, when you yourself were hardly bigger than me and you called me... your Sammy.”

Dean looks at Sam thoughtfully, and says,”At least one good thing came of that night. Thank you, for sharing that with me.”

“No, thank you,” The omega replies, taking the bottle,”It was beautiful memory. A-anyway, I think it’s my turn.”


“Why do you walk so weird?”


The psychic let’s out a giggle and pokes the latter’s legs. “Bowlegged,” He points out,”You walk bowlegged.”

“Because my knees have a restraining order against each other,” The hunter answers with an eye roll, snatching the bottle from the giggling young man,”Why are most people bowlegged? My turn!” He tips the bottle back and takes a long drink,”Why don’t you hunt anymore?”

The giggles stop abruptly. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“A hunt went bad. Real bad,” Sam whispers,”I don’t remember much about the hunt itself. Flashes. Real brief ones.”

Dean frowns in concern, and proclaims,”Sam, you can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“When I was around twelve years-old, my dad had started to take me on bigger group hunts. I was useful because of my powers, and his hunting buddies always needed the occasional free hotel room or telekinetic block when shots started firing,” The omega told the alpha as he splayed his fingers over his eyes,”At first, I only hunted the basic things; werewolves, spirits, the occasional witch, but then someone needed me for a demon case. S-someone was possessed, and one of my dad’s hunting buddies needed to perform an exorcism…”

The alpha flinched,”Those things can get rough, and fast.”

“It did,” The omega confirms with a shaky nod,”I was just supposed to protect the hunter, make sure no one tried to interrupt the exorcism because he had him tied up in a place squatters tended to rest. Well, no humans showed up, but a couple of the demon’s buddies did. They started circling the place like vultures to a fresh carcass. I-I was so scared and my phone was dead, so I-I couldn’t even call my dad to say goodbye,” His hazel hues are shining with emotion as he goes on,”The demons broke through all of our defenses in a matter of seconds. The hunter tried to bolt, but the one that was tied up got to him first, leaving only me. T-they were going to kill me, but not before playing with their food for a little bit.”

The hunter’s jaw clenches at the last sentence. “Bastards,” He curses softly.

The psychic hastened to choke out,”Well, the demons began to try and toy with me and I began to panic, I tried to use my telekinetic powers to force the demon from its vessel, but it wasn’t working and there was so much blood–“ He closed his eyes and let out a shaking breath,”I was going to die, that’s all I can remember thinking as they tried to…” A strangled sob arose in his throat; he couldn’t say it,”I wish they’d just killed me outright.”

Dean bares his teeth, his face flushing. “Sam,” He grits out,”God, I don’t even know what I can begin to say –“

Sam shakes his head,”But, then on the brink of death, my screams halted and the pain I felt ceased to exist. Everything went dark and I just went... off. I can’t even begin to describe what it was like,” He persisted, struggling with his words,”I blinked and they were gone. I-I… killed them.”

“…You killed them?” The alpha sounds hesitant, doubtful. Demons were, well, demons. No one can kill a demon. It was just a simple fact. Water is wet. The Earth is round. Demons can’t be killed.

The omega gulps thickly, and quickly says,”It doesn’t matter. The point is after that I was done with hunting. That night has a hold over me I may never be able to shake, and it doesn’t matter that these people were possessed. They were still people; trapped, innocent people, and I killed them to save myself. It’s my burden to bear.”

Dean’s eyes swell with pity,”Sammy,” His voice is deep, thoughtful as he contemplates his next words,”You can’t take the blame for a shitty situation like that. You had to defend yourself… You didn’t have a choice…” His words seem to be going right over the latter’s head, so he just trails off. In that moment, he wishes he knew how to approach sensitive situations like this. It didn’t help that he was a little tipsy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam repeats simply, taking a long drink,”What’s done is done. I always had an idea that I could use my power against demons, but... The idea always terrified me, more than anything.”

The alpha pats the omega’s shoulder, before gripping it tightly and pulling him into a sideways hug. The psychic leans his head against his shoulder and the latter stiffens when he feels the body against him shake. He was crying, if only ever so softly. The hunter ran a hand up and down his back, holding him close as he tears slowly began to slow and eventually halt entirely.

Sam abruptly pulls away, hastily wiping the tears from his reddened cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone else, besides my dad that,” He states with a shaky laugh,”I’ll admit, it feels good to get off my chest. Sorry for ruining the game.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Dean says, taking a swig from the bottle and passing it to Sam,”Come on, the games not over yet and it’s your turn.”

Sam smiles and takes a pathetic sip from the bottle, making a face as he does so. “Okay, um, what’s your favorite movie?”

“Lame! So lame,” The alpha scoffs,”Untouchables. Damn that Kevin Kostner was the bomb until he tried playing Robin Hood. He didn’t even attempt an English accent. If Monty Python can do it, he can.”

“...You do realize that Monty Python is actually English, right?”

The hunter is silent for a moment before he gruffly barks,”Shut your pie-hole, college boy. My turn!” He snatches the bottle and drinks, before questioning,”What is your biggest fear?” 

“Clowns,” Sam admits with a sheepish look.

“Clowns? Clowns?” Dean sputters with a dumb-struck look on his face,”As in creepy guys in sewers offering balloons? Pennywise the dancing pedophile?”

“My dad used to leave me at Plucky Pennywhistle’s when I was younger,” The omega explains with an eye roll, taking the bottle from the alpha’s relaxed grip. He takes a deep drink and shivers, reminiscing,”But, yeah, seeing It sure as hell didn’t help.”






Both of them were laying against the king-sized bed on the far side of the room, their knees drawn to their chests. Sam’s head was lain on Dean’s shoulder with the latter laying against his head. The empty bottle is squeezed between both of their legs, for they’d run out hours before. But they’d continued the game nonetheless.

“Parents?” Dean mumbles through a yawn.

“Both dead. I-I didn’t really know them or much about them, so I’ve really had nothing to mourn,” Sam answers with a shrug,”I know that my mom was young when she had me and my dad was out of the picture. Name wasn’t even on the birth certificate. She died in one of the fires set by the yellow-eyed demon, but one of the hunters managed to grab me in time.”

The alpha runs his fingers over the omega’s knuckles. “Do you ever think about them? I mean, my mom... I think about her everyday. It’s hard not to when you’ve got an old man that raised you to be a soldier in his army,” He murmurs.

“I don’t,” The omega replies honestly,”I have my dad, Bobby, and that’s enough for me. And he was never really hammering the idea of revenge in my head. I mean, I hunted but... I never knew my mother. So I had nothing to avenge really.”

“You won’t have to,” Dean snarls, clenching Sam’s hand,”Because I’m going to kill that son of a bitch for you - For all of us that’ve lost something to him. I’m going to kill him dead for what he did to my family,” His voice chokes up as he goes on,”My mom and my dad, they hunted together you know. She came from a long line of hunters and he was actually still new to things when they had me. I was barely four years old and they were already instilling hunter logic in my head.” 

Sam sits up, and leans back on his hands so that he’s facing Dean, listening intently.

“I heard weird noises in my closet and they handed me a shotgun full of rock salt. I remember thinking it was just going to be the three of us against the world. You know? Saving people, hunting things - The family business,” The alpha grits out with smarting eyes,”It’s hard to have a family business when you’re not much of a family anymore.”

Sam uses a soothing tone as he whispers,”You can still have one, Dean. One of your own,” The omega’s warm, usually minty scent sweetens and smells like spun sugar. The alpha can taste it on the tip of his tongue as he inhales deeply, the pleasant smell soothing him,”You can still carry on.”

The hunter grips the empty bottle, and his eyes stay on the carpet. “Let’s wrap it up with the chick-flick moments,” He says at last with a pathetic attempt at his usual shit-eating grin,”It’s my turn.”

The psychic makes a face, then let’s out a long suffering sigh. “No, I’m tired,” He murmurs and let’s out an exaggerated yawn.

“Whatever,” Dean groans waving a hand at him, before he begins to strip haphazardly,”What side do you prefer?”

Dean’s question startled Sam. The alpha hadn’t even bothered to go to the bathroom to change into his night clothes so he had turned his back with red cheeks. He’d actually forgotten the alpha was slightly drunk. The omega had been smart and had only taken small sips, so he’d only had about an eighth of the bottle. The latter had the rest.

“I…I don’t know. Side of what?”

“One bed, remember?” Dean murmurs flopping down on the right side of the king-sized bed,”Take the left. It’s closer to the heater, it will keep you warmer.”

Sam was surprised by how considerate Dean was. He still felt like an intruder, sleeping in the same bed, unmated, but the alpha was doing his best to make him feel welcome. The hunter climbed into the bed as the psychic changed into his night clothes, too. More borrowed clothes from him.

When he turned around, Dean had indeed taken the right side, leaving as much space as possible for Sam. The omega took out the lights and laid next to the alpha. He was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.



May 30, 1999


“Whatever you do, don’t mention his powers if we’re not alone. His parents don’t know,” Sam warns.

Sam rapped his fist against the door, shoving his hands in his pockets as soon as he does so. There’s an audible grunt and the door cracks open. A woman he recognizes as Alice Miller, Max’s stepmother, pokes her head out. She gives him a shaky smile and opens the door all of the way.

“Sam,” Alice greets, smiling again, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. She smells heavily of rotting meat, taking on an unpleasant scent as most omega’s do in distress,” I haven’t seen you for a while. Come on in, Max is in the living room.”

Sam steps in with Dean following and they both follow Mrs. Miller into the living room. Max is sitting cross-legged on the couch watching a movie he doesn’t recognize on the television. The other psychic’s eyes snap up to meet his and he raises a brow. He grabs an empty can of coke and shakes it in his stepmother’s direction, before tossing it onto the floor.

The poor woman looks like she’s about to burst into tears as she stoops over the pick up the empty can, and says,”I-I’ll get you another one, Max.” Her scent somehow gets even worse and the only alpha in the room looks like he’s going to vomit.

Max grunts in response. Without turning to look at Sam, he mutters,”What are you doing here?”

“I need your help -“

“I take you’re here about the rapidly declining amount of psychics?” Max questions with a slight frown.

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Dean growls, stepping in front of the television,”I figure you’d be a little more concerned.”

Max ignored Dean, instead leaning to the side to keep his attention on the television. “Sam, you shouldn’t have come here,” He says grabbing the remote and changing the channel.

Max’s stepmother reenters the room with a can of soda and shakingly sets it down on a coaster. She goes to her full height and asks,”A-anything else?”

“A bag of chips,” Max mutters, flipping through the channels.

“Max,” Sam try’s again, keeping his tone even,”You’re a very powerful telekinetic. I’ve recently learned that some psychics may be able to fight against demons using their powers. Nearly everyone has been captured, except for you. Maybe if we work together, and take out this demon that’s taking them, we can save them.”

“Always the optimist,” Max snorts.

“Um, where’s the bathroom?” Dean questions after clearing his throat,”B-bathroom? No? Okay. Fine, guess I’ll find it msyelf.” He wanders down the hall muttering under his breath.

The omega let’s out a sigh,”Look, I know that you may not want to get involved in this fight, but I can’t take this demon on alone -“

“Oh, but you can. You’re more than strong enough,” The beta interrupts,”I mean, you’ve killed a whole group of demons at once, right? I don’t see why you’re so afraid of your own abilities, Sam. It’s the others around us that should be afraid.”

“H-how did you...?”

“You’re not the only with more powers than one. And I’ve been practicing,” Max hisses his eyes meeting Sam’s,”I used to be just like you. Weak, handicapped, in the shadow of humans. Afraid of my own abilities. No more.”

The psychic gulps audibly,”What else can you do?”

“Everything,” The other psychic boasts,”I have the power of knowledge, Sam. Be it knowledge over a subject, a foreign language, or even the mastery of a fighting style! I-I-I just know... everything.” 

“Claircognizance,” Sam narrows his eyes and hisses,”Just what are you planning to do?”

“Whatever the hell I want,” Max responds with an shaky smile,”And you can, too.”

“What are you talking about?”

Max stands up from his slouched position on the couch,”The things I’ve seen, Sam. Out of all the psychics, it is only you and I that understand even a fraction of our true potential. You’ve barely even begun to tap into what you can do, and you’re already on par with me,” He waves his hands around,”Can you imagine what you’d be capable of, if you just... let go?”

“No. Never,” Sam whispers,”I’ve seen what happens when I let go.”

“So have I,” Max responds as he gulps heavily, his eyes settling on the latter’s,”I’ve never seen power like that before, not even with myself,” He lets out a long sigh and sits on the couch again,”You haven’t the slightest idea of what you’ve gotten yourself into, Sam. This entire thing is a web, and you’re just the stupid fly that got caught in it.”

“Then tell me what the hell is going on! What is going on?

The other psychic opens his mouth and states,”Demons are the key to it all, Sam. That’s all I’ll tell you for now. When you go with them, the rest will be answered.”

“Max, please -“

“This is for your own good, Sam,” Max states,”I’ll see you on the battle field. Oh - It seems your friend has found my father’s body. Nosy one, isn’t he? Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from him?”

Sam suddenly thrusts his hands forward, blasting Max against the wall with a loud thud. Max laughs, throwing his head back, before easily stretching his own hands forward and throwing Sam to the opposite side of the room. The omega let’s out a pained cry as he slams against the dining room table, breaking it with his weight. Broken glass digs into his arms and legs as he attempts to sit up.

“Come on!” Max yells making his hands into fists. Sam is thrown into the kitchen and he does skidding across the floor, smearing the tiles with crimson.

Sam lifts a hand forward, but Max barely flinches as he’s pushed back a few feet. “M-Max... stop this,” He grits out, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Max abruptly turns on his heel, throwing Dean to the ceiling and keeping him pinned there. Dean lets out a loud groan and attempts to move against the force gluing him there. “B-bastard,” The hunter manages to choke out,”Don’t you touch him!”

Max makes a show of slowly making his way towards Sam. The beta presses his foot into the omega’s back, leaning down to twist his fingers in his hair. He yanks his head up and makes him look at the alpha pinned to the ceiling.

“D-Dean,” Sam whimpers softly,”Please, let him go.”

 “Why? You do know that he’s afraid of you, right? Terrified, even.”

Dean manages to shake his head, and grits out,”D-don’t listen... t-t-to him.”

“You know the real reason you’re afraid, Dean? It's the jealousy of evolution. Humans like you are obsolete. The future belongs to psychics,” Max curls his fingers and Dean drops down a few feet, until he’s levitating a few feet in the air in front of him,”And I intend to make sure that future happens. One way or another. In fact I’ve already begun.”

Dean laughs coldly,”So, that’s why you killed your own father? Some sick act of dominance?”

“I killed him because he laid his fucking hands on me! I warned him, I-I told him that if he did it again, that I’d stop him,” Max abruptly screams, and the room begins to shake as if the house had been shoved into a blender,”A-And s-she just watched... she let him!”

“Max,” Sam coughs, wiping the blood on his jacket sleeve,”Look I can’t begin to understand what you went through...”

“That’s right, you can’t.”

“But Max, this has to stop. You’re hurting people.”

Max shakes his head, making a fist so that Sam falls on his knees with a gasp. “No, I’m not done. I’ve barely started. No one is ever, ever making me feel weak again,” He motions to the room in shambles around him,”Not when I can do things like this.”

“L-Look what they did to you, what they all did to you, they deserve to be punished, but... not like this.”

The beta lets out a trembling sigh,”When I first found out I could move things, it was a gift. But I used to hold back because I was told that I should hide what I could do. Keep the less-gifted people unaware,” He turns towards the omega and presses two fingers together,”But a few months ago, I just... let go.”

Sam cries out as an invisible force slams into his face, and white hot pain burned his face. He could feel blood trickling from every crevice of his face as he slumps to the ground like a bag of cement. But with one hand he manages to shakily place two fingers on his temple, before he sets his gaze upon the blurry figure of Max.

Dean abruptly drops from the air, landing on his stomach with a loud groan. “S-Sammy?” He manages to pull himself up from the ground, and turns to the latter,”Sam?”

Sam is stock still on the ground, still holding his fingers to his temple. His eyes are tightly closed, tears are running down his cheeks, and his teeth are bared from exertion. “I-I can’t hold him much longer. He’s so strong,” He chokes out,”You have to do something, now.”

Dean’s eyes flicker over to Max, who’s frozen in place with his lips parted ever so slightly. The hunter pulls out his gun from the waistband of his jeans, aiming for the other psychic’s heart. He hesitates then pulls the trigger. The scream of pain that the omega let’s out, tears through the alpha like a great shard of glass. He felt his eyes widen and pulse quicken, his heart thudding like a rock rattling in box.

Sam’s fingers fall to his side and he goes limp on the ground. The blood trickling from Sam’s mouth was outmatched by the much larger amount that now spilt from Max’s, forcing its way up his windpipe. Keeping the agonising pain at bay through sheer stubborn strength of will, the omega attempts to sit up. With his face smeared with blood, it made quite the unnerving sight to watch him fumble to his hands and knees.

“Sam,” Dean exclaims, pulling him into his arms,”Oh God, Sammy! What the hell was that?”

Sam wheezes, more tears escaping his eyes and falling down his cheeks. “I did the same thing I did to those assholes who tried to gang up against you. I-I went into his mind and halted his brain activity. I just didn’t let go in time and I-I felt it,” He coughs violently, his hand running up and down his chest,”The bullet going into his heart.”

“Sam, I am so, so sorry. If I’d known that was a risk, I would have never -“

“I know,” Sam whispers with a weak smile,”That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“You idiot,” The alpha growls.

The omega looks like he’s about to retort when his eyes widen and another wheeze escapes his lips. “D-Dean...”

Dean cries out when all of a sudden his arms are grasping around empty air. Then above him, there was the telltale groan of wood under strain, and in an instant an entire section of the ceiling simply collapsed. It hit the alpha like... well like a goddamn ceiling. He blacked out maybe for a second or two, and when he came round he found himself buried under a pile of debris.

The last thing he sees, before he’s completely enveloped in darkness is a bastard with blonde hair and wicked grin standing a few feet from him. The omega is levitating a few feet away, eerily still with his arms hanging at his sides.

“S-Sammy,” Dean mumbles as he succumbs to the darkness and Brady begins to walk away.






“It was a mission from the messengers of God! Those who carry his messages upon wings! Angels! Angels!” Gordon roars from the other room, his chair slamming up and down against the cement.

Bobby Singer rubs a hand over this face. “Have you found a safe spot for that knife yet?”

“Yeah,” John Winchester answers with a nod,”I’ve got a storage place that should hold it just fine. I may have to add a few more warding spells but it’ll work.”

Angels! They come from on high to deliver the message

“Balls,” Bobby growls,”There’s got to be some way to get him to shut his damn trap! The only thing I was planning on hearing when I got home was my liver drunkenly singing old country songs.”

“I better not see you even edge near a damn bottle,” John presses with a frown,”We’ve still got work to do.”

“Like you can keep me from drinking, Winchester.”

John narrows his eyes, and with a sharp tone he says,”We have to go get it, Bobby. It’s time.”

“John, I know you’re not thinking about that at a time like this! We’ve got too much damn shit on our plate -“

“Call him up,” John insists,”Call Elkins. Tell him it’s time.”

John is suddenly backed against the wall with Bobby’s elbow pinned against his throat. “Listen to me, Winchester,” The hunter spits out,”If you do anything to endanger my boy because of your thick-skulled revenge scheme, there ain’t going to be no body to burn! You hear me? I said do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” The other hunter grunts out, shoving the latter off of him,”You know that I’d never let anything happen to Sam. You know that, right?”

“You lose sight of everything else when yellow eyes gets involved, you idjit,” Bobby growls, jutting his jaw,”The only reason I’m coming with you, is to make sure you don’t.”

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour,” Gordon yells the sound of his chair scraping against the concrete growing louder.

John looks in the direction of the racket and states,”Twenty bucks says you kill him.”

“I’d do it for less.”

Chapter Text

May 30, 1999

Castiel lands with a soft ruffle of feathers a few feet away from the human, his mouth a firm line. The human, Gordon Walker, takes notice of him and immediately goes down on one knee, his eyes cast upon the ground below him. The angel sets a hand on the latter’s shoulder, urging him to rise.

“You’ve done well,” Castiel praises, his glacier blue eyes staring intently into Gordon’s. He opens his hand and summons the psychic-killing blade into his palm,”So few remain... And it is up to you to eliminate the few that linger.”

Gordon bows his head and graciously takes the blade. “I was captured by the narrow-minded hunters before I could take out the strongest of them, Sam Winchester. That one, he’ll be the first one I take with this second chance.”

“Your dedication is something to be commended, but some new information has come down from my superiors. Sam Winchester will not be on your list any longer,” Castiel declares,”He serves a greater purpose, that is yet to be seen.”

“It is as you say,” Gordon concedes with a slightly disappointed sigh,”I will go further down my list, and carry out the rest of your orders.”

“Good,” Castiel replies, and with a whoosh of air, he’s gone.






Breathing heavily, Sam slowly lowers his arms from their crossed position as Jake goes flailing through the air with a roar of pain. He stiffens when he hears the sound of a car engine at his back, then the skid of brakes. He doesn’t turn around, just hunches slightly, trying to catch his breath.

The car door opens and someone yells,“Sam!”

The omega’s eyes widen, and his lips go slack. His breathing halts all together.

“Sam... Sammy!

Sam turns around, his breath returning in shaky intervals. His lips twitch into a weak smile and he feels his eyes begin to water as he chokes out,”...Dean?”

“Thank God you’re all right. Sam,” Dean utters taking a step forward, blinking frantically to keep his own relieved tears in check,”Thank God...” He speeds up his walk.

“Dean. Dean, I...” There’s a sickening crunch, and then he feels it inside of him. A presence, like a frigid spot in his stomach, a numbness that ebbs throughout the rest of him. He looks down and he sees it, the blood soaked fist that is protruding through his stomach.

Sam gags violently, and claret sprays from his lips like confetti at a parade. His blood tastes bitter, leaking around his teeth and over freshly cold lips, escaping as if it never knew it was welcome to stay. It has a smell, an odour. Jake pulls his fist from his stomach and shakes off his hand as if he’d just gotten some dust on it. The omega’s shaking palms press against the mangled flesh, but the bleeding continues, stark red in the moonlight. Blood drips onto the dirt below, moistening the ground as he falls onto his knees, before he collapses completely.

“Sam! Nooo!” Dean screams, running towards him faster than a snow-cone melts in Hell. Dean pulls Sam up against him, gripping the edges of his shirt as if he was afraid to let go,”Hey, hey let me look at you. Hey, look, it’s not even that bad...”

Sam’s head lolls and his eyelids flutter as he begins to close them. He gurgles, struggling past all the blood in his mouth,”D-De...”

“Shh, I told you it’s not that bad - Sam,” Dean roughly shakes him as he begins to go limp in his arms, his eyes slowly closing like there was a weight being eased over them,”We’re going to get you patched up, okay? You’ll be as good as new. Huh? I’m going to take care of you...”

Sam’s eyes close and he goes limp against Dean, his final breath pushing out of him and grazing the latter’s ear. The alpha grips the omega’s face, his thumbs brushing up against his cheekbones. With one hand he combs through the psychic’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp as he holds him closer.

“Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!” Dean pats Sam’s face, and presses his trembling lips to his forehead. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down his face,”No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

Dean sniffs and presses his face against Sam’s, his hand gripping strands of his hair as he rocks him back and forth in his arms. The alpha presses another kiss to the omega’s cheek with trembling lips, his tears starting to flow sluggishly as he screams a final,”Sammmm!

The vision ends, and Sam Singer comes gasping to life as he sits up, and whips his head back and forth, almost comically, taking in his surroundings. Under his hands he feels moist, rotting wood that’s most likely riddled and eaten away by various critters. Pushing up against the wood, he stands up on shaky legs and takes a few hesitant steps forward. The early morning light is shining on an eerily quiet town without a soul in sight.

The ghost town was inhabited by old tear-downs that no-one even had any incentive to demolish. As he continued to walk he sees the occasional bird and sometimes a sheltered wild dog. The occasional window was still in possession of its glass but most had broken so long ago that there was no trace of the shards on the rotting plank floors. In most of the buildings the roofs had partially caved in or at the very least they sagged like a disappointing soufflé. The only welcome was the howl of the wind and the only future of the town was to be slowly beaten by the weather and eventually succumb to gravity without even a witness or person to mourn its passing.

“Hello,” Sam calls out as he fumbles through his pockets. He finds a crumpled stick of gum and a few folded bills held with a clip, neither of which was particularly useful. He tries again,”Hello? Anybody!”

The omega decides to go into one of the decrepit buildings and finds what looks to be a run down bar. On the inside there’s a peeling paint sign hanging off of the bar table that takes up more than half of the right side of the room. There are still half drunk whiskey shots on top of a thick layer of dust on the counter. Surroundings he bar is broken stools from a long-forgotten bar brawl. And in the corner there is a silent grandfather-clock.

The psychic’s breath catches in his throat when one of the floor boards creaks behind his back. He turns on his heel and thrusts one hand forward, throwing whoever was behind him across the room. The figure let’s out a loud high-pitched yelp as they crumple to the ground in a a pile of limbs.

“Andy?” Sam questions with a raised-brow, lowering his hand.

Andy lifts his head the rest of the way, and joint drops from his trembling lips. “Sam?” He utters with a sigh of relief.

“W-What are you doing here?” The psychic asks running over and offering him a hand.

The other psychic gives him a grateful smile and takes his hand, groaning as he’s pulled up. “I don’t know!” He exclaims, his grateful smile turning hysterical. He lets out a high pitched laugh,”What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answers.

Where are we?” Andy shrieks throwing his hands in the air.

“Andy, look, calm down,” Sam says resting his hands on either side of the latter’s shoulders.

“I can’t calm down!” Andy hisses wrapping his arms around himself,”I woke up in this shitty frontier land a few days ago, and now -“ He let’s out a second, louder groan, his eyes searching the ground,”Where’s my joint?”

Sam keeps eye contact with him and nonchalantly kicks the joint out of sight. He lowers his hands and calmly asks,“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Andy breathes heavily, setting his palms over his forehead,”I don’t think you want me to answer that -“


“Honestly,” He mumbles with a sheepish look,”My fourth bong load. It was weird! All of a sudden there was this really intense smell, like a... sulfur.”

“Sulfur,” Sam repeats with a head tilt. He pauses for a second, before he says,”I-I remember now. We, Dean and I, we went to Max for help, but somehow Brady - Wait, Dean!”

“Dean? Who’s Dean? Is he another psychic?”

“No. He’s a hunter,” Sam mutters,”I-I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he’s...” He shakes his head and takes a breath,”Have you seen anyone else?”

Andy is suddenly pale as a corpse. “Not for a while,” He states with an audible gulp, his mouth going dry,”Thank fuck for that. I-I thought you were one of them.”

“What do you mean?” Sam inquires, leaning in slightly,”The other psychics...”

“They’ve all gone off the deep end,” Andy hisses abruptly,”Every single last one of them, except for me and you apparently! It’s been like fucking Running Man up in here for days! When the first few psychics got here, t-there was a man, h-he had yellow - Fucking piss-yellow eyes, and he told them that the only way to get out alive was t-to fight...”

“Wait, so t-the psychics that don’t fight or l-lose...”

“Dead. All of them,” Andy utters with a shiver,”I’ve only managed to avoid everyone else by using my powers to change what they see when they pass me. It’s like I’m invisible! It’s a handy trick when you’re sneaking into the girl’s locker-room. Never thought it’d be better for anything else -“

Sam huffs, and reminds him,”You need to focus, Andy. How many are left?”

“L-last I heard, it was six, maybe? But if you took out Max -“

“Five, including you and me,” Sam concludes,”Do you know who else might be left?”

“Uh, I know Ava is still standing, she’s kind of the reigning heavy-weight champion,” Andy confirms counting off his fingers,”Then it’s Jake, maybe Lily, too?”

“Shit,” Sam curses,”Wait, Ava? But all she can do is have premonitions? Last I heard, she had a small business for hunters to get their futures told, going.”

Andy scoffed and explains,”Well she’s had a serious power upgrade. A lot of the psychics have recently. Before, Ava could maybe see someone’s future after a few bloody noses. Now? She summons literal frickin’ demons! Jake used to have maybe above-average human strength and now he’s motherfucking Luke Cage! Unbreakable skin and all! It’s insane!”

Shit,” Sam repeats.

“Yeah, I know. They’ve already wiped out everyone else like me, people stuck with powers that aren’t really suitable for combat,” Andy states, drawing his lips into a line and biting his lip,”I don’t know how much longer I can take this, Sam. If you hadn’t found me, I would be in a corner smoking that joint - where is it - just waiting for them to find me. I kinda just want the shit over and done with, you know?”

Sam shakes his head, gripping the latter’s arm tightly. “We can still get out of this,” He reassures him,”D-Don’t give up yet, okay?”

Andy scoffs and comments,”Work together? Why would you wanna do that? I mean, how do you know I won't just try and strangle you in your sleep or something?” 

“Because I already know who’s going to try and kill me,” Sam states plainly, recalling the vision he had before he woke up,”Besides, maybe, if we work together, we can incapacitate the three of them.”

Andy let’s out a mirthless laugh, nearly throwing his head back. “They’re not going to try and incapacitate us, Sam,” He hisses with a sneer,”It’s kill or be killed to them because they, like the rest of us, really don’t want to fucking die. And who am I to judge? If I had the kind of fire-power they did, I’d be swatting people like flies, too, so that I could live.”


“You do. You have that kind of power,” Andy starts,”If you’d just -“

“No, Andy.”

Andy is practically pleading,”Sam, you’ve killed before, I know you have. I mean, you used to be the best goddamn one of us. And I know you killed Max. If you’d just let go -“

“I said no, Andy,” Sam snarls as a one of the few bar stools goes flying across the room, crashing mere inches from Andy’s head,”I c-can’t do it, okay? I can’t kill anyone else. I can’t handle another damn thing on my conscience right now.”




“Dean,” A voice invaded his dreams “You need to wake up.”

Something warm settled on the side of Dean’s face. Dean groaned burrowing further into the bed. His headache was gone but he didn’t want to get out of the unbelievably warm and comfy bed.

“No,” The alpha growls, smacking the hand on his cheek away. He does stiffen when the scent of another alpha washes over him.

“Dean,” The voice exclaims impatiently, and white hot pain flashes over the hunter’s private parts.

Dean bolts upright, gripping his crotch as he rocks back and forth. He opens his eyes, blinking past the stinging tears to see that he is in fact not in a bed. He was sitting up on a pile of rubble and a blurry figure was standing a few feet away. He blinks a few more times, until the figure comes in focus.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head,” Gabriel exclaims with a lopsided smile, his arms folded over his chest.

“Did you fucking kick my junk?” Dean groans, still gripping his bits and pieces.

“You weren’t even peaking an eye open,” Gabriel says with an eye roll, crouching down in front of Dean,”Now that you’re smelling the coffee, notice something, well, someone, missing?”

“Ugh, What are you talking abou-Sam!”

“There it is,” Gabriel says with a sarcastic clap,”Come on, up and at ‘em. You’ve got to find him.”

The hunter lifts a hand forward, signaling that he needed some help up. The latter rolls his eyes before grabbing his hand, gripping it tight, and pulling him up with an ease of strength that the hunter didn’t expect.

Dean dusts himself off and asks,”What in the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“I’m here for the same reason as you,” Gabriel answers crossing his arms over his chest, a random donut in his hand. Dean shakes his head at the sight of the pastry, making the latter’s lips quirk slightly as he takes a bite.

“And that is?”

Gabriel swallows and states,”To make sure that big-hearted moose gets out of this damn mess in one piece,” He takes another bite and talks around his mouthful,”To help in the few ways that I can.”

“How do you even know about any of this? I don’t remember letting you into the loop,” Dean says with a slight frown matched with a glare. 

“You didn’t have to,” Gabriel replies finishing his donut, and proceeding to like his fingers,”There are a shit-ton more players on this board than you originally thought. And I’m just one of the few that’s on your side.” 

The hunter inquires,”There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?”

“So much more. More than you’d believe I’m afraid.”

“...Try me.”

“I’m not human if that’s what you’re wondering,” Gabriel sighs, licking the last bit of glaze off of his index finger.

Dean starts,”I should have come out of that rubble with at least a scrape, but I’ve got squat. I’m going to take a gander and say that was your doing,” He takes a step closer to him and asks,”Am I right?”

Gabriel snorts and exclaims,”Oh, no, you didn’t just have a couple of scrapes or bruises. You were dead. Expired, six feet under, pushing up daisies, you’d breathed your last shit-eating breath. Dead as the nail in a coffin, buckaroo,” He let’s out a mirthless laugh,”And I had to use the last bit of my power to do that.”

“I-I wasn’t dead,” Dean utters,”What’s dead, stays dead unless -“ He abruptly pulls out his flask of holy water from his jacket pocket and spins off the top with jumbling fingers, splashing its contents across the latter’s face.

Gabriel’s lips are set in a deep frown and his eyes are closed tightly as he parts his lips and spits out a mouthful of water. “I’m not a demon,” He hisses as he blinks open his eyes,”But if I told you what I am, you wouldn’t believe me, and I don’t have time for a damn religious argument!”

“So, what, you’re saying that you’re a - “


Dean let’s out a barking laugh,”No such thing.”

Gabriel threw his hands in the air,”I don’t fucking have time for this! I’ve already saved your ungrateful ass! And if you don’t want to at least thank me - Fine! Have fun doing the heavy lifting on your own,” He suddenly straightens his posture and stiffens, his face contorting with effort,”...I was supposed to fly away, but I’m out of juice because of my little Lazarus trick!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mutters sarcastically.

Gabriel flips him the bird and stomps out of the house like a toddler being ordered to his room with no dinner. Dean rolls his eyes and yells after him,”Come back when you can shake some feathers, then we’ll talk!”

“Bite me, mud-monkey!” Gabriel barks in return, sending him one final middle finger.

“Mud-monkey,” Dean mutters under his breath. He jumps when the phone on the coffee table rings abruptly, and quickly moves to answer it,”Uh, hello?”

“Dean?” Bobby Singer questions.

“Bobby! Thank fuck you called, I was just about to - How did you know where I was -“

Bobby laughs on the other line and questions,”Did you really think we’d let you two run off on your own without some kind of way to hunt you down? Check the lining on your jacket, you idjit.”

Dean frowns and runs his hand down the lining of his jacket, until he feels a bulge. “You sewed a hex-bag into my jacket? Are you kidding me? That doesn’t matter, look -“

“Your old man did, not me. Tried slipping one on Sam, but he always ditches them,” Bobby growls back,”How we found you ain’t important right now. Your daddy and I are going after a weapon that might just knock ol’ yellow eyes on his ass. I just hope he’s right on this one. But we’ve got some problems on the home front - Gordon Walker escaped just a few hours after we caught him.”

What? Okay, look -“

The seasoned hunter let’s out a sigh,”The other hunters thought we ought to have some kind of half-assed trial for him, before icing him. Luckily, I don’t trust anyone for shit and placed a tracking spell on him.” 

“Sam -“

“He’s not after, Sam. From what I see he’s headin’ towards Flint, Michigan,” Bobby interrupts,”One of the psychics that helped Sam learn to control his powers, Silas, he lives there. You’re the closest to him, so you need to get there, and fast.”

“Damn it, Bobby! I can’t! I can’t! Brady, the bastard, he got him! He got Sam!” Dean growls over the phone, his fingers gripping his hair,”And then Gabriel’s showed up and started spouting some useless nonsense - Fuck! I don’t know what to do, Bobby. I don’t know in the hell to find him... I mean what am I supposed to do? Grab a map, close my eyes, and point?”

“Dean,” Bobby says with an uncharacteristically calm voice,”Take a breath, boy. If he got caught by Brady, then we know he’s at least still a resident of earth. I’ll put some people on tracking down my boy. You get to Silas before Gordon does. He may be able to help you.”

Dean growls,”You better have Ash on it -“

“Who do you think we put on the psychic case in the first place, you idjit,” Bobby barks back,”Ash is already working away, trying to find him - He ain’t got no leads yet but he’ll find him eventually. Just keep your head straight, boy.”

Dean takes a shaking breath, holds it, and exhales,”Okay. Alright, damn it. Just, promise me you’ll do everything you can -“ 

“You know I will.”






The heat from the campfire seemed to be sucked into the chilled air before ever reaching their frozen hands. They added more wood and poked it with long sticks. And after a time it found it's confidence and grew until the heat warmed them, orange flames celebrated with their wild flickering dance. It would have to last through the night.

Andy was situated on top of a log a few feet away from Sam, his legs in front of him with his arms folded over them. “I've wondered what it's like to be a telepath,” He mumbles, trying to initiate a conversation.

Sam sits up from his position on fur pile of hay that was serving as a pillow,”Your powers stem from telepathy,” He points out with a frown.”

“I mean... I can’t read people’s minds -“

“You can just command them to tell you.”

Andy shrugs, laying his head on his arms as he states,”It’s not the the same.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam concedes,”Being a telepath... It's like staying in a hotel room where you can hear the people next door. You can try and shut it out, but it's there.”

“Is it difficult to block out people's thoughts?” The latter asks with a thoughtful look.

“Depends on the thoughts,” The omega answers, casting his attention back towards the fire. The light cast by the flames danced across the dark trunks of the trees, twisting and curling in obscure shapes.

From the shadows, a dark figure crawls, ominously advancing as Sam slowly stood. A flicker of the flames and he momentarily loses it, but to his horror, it rises out of the murky depths of a mud puddle again, breathing life into the cold cobblestone. The grim outline of a shadowy reflection had possessed his vision.

“Andy,” Sam whispers, slowly reaching his hand forward,”On the count of three, I’m going to throw you into the line of trees over there. When I do, run.” 

“Sam -“ But Andy falls silent as his eyes lay on the thing slinking towards him. His eyes widen for he size of saucers, and a whimper escapes his lips.

“...One,” The psychic raises one hand forward, “Two...”

Sam -“

“...Three!” He thrusts his hand forward, throwing the other psychic into the line of trees. And a few seconds later, he hears retreating fast retreating steps.

Sam’s eyes were now glued to the shadow a few feet ahead, it’s shape shrinking as if it meant to hide. It moved towards him, but paused. The omega’s heartbeat quickened. He stopped, looking for an escape route. Then the shadow looked together on the ground, forming a tiny body with claws instead of fingers and sunken pits for eyes.

It was an acheri, a unique type of demon that he’d only ever read about in dusty, old books from his dad’s library, rather than encountered. This one has taken the form of grim-covered little girl with straw-blonde hair that was tied into pig-tails with a frayed blue ribbon. It made low growling noises in the back of its throat, saliva dripping from the corners of its mouth as it takes a daring step forward.

“Hello, Sam,” A voice says from the shadows, and the demon hisses softly, stepping back from him. Immediately the scent of an approaching alpha penetrates his nostrils, sweet but tart, like freshly cut lemons.

“Ava,” Sam greets the young woman as she comes out of the shadows,”Long time, no see. How long has it been? Five, six months, maybe?”

Ava waves her hand, and the demon is nothing but a pool of shadows at her feet. “Yeah, I was one of the first to go missing, wasn’t I?” She questions taking slow, and steady steps toward him,”I bet before you got roped into this whole mess, you missed me, mourned me, even.”

“You know I did,” Sam responds softly, his gaze meeting her’s as they stand mere inches apart,”You don’t have to do this, Ava. Just walk away and we’ll forget this happened -“

“Don’t have the heart to kill me, Sam?” Ava questions with a smirk,”You always were a big softie, weren’t you? But it’s a bit late for that, seeing as I already killed your buddy...”


Ava motions to the line of trees and states,”He made it a few yards, maybe, before I sent another demon after him,” She turns back to him, and says,”You’ve only been here for a few hours, so you probably haven’t gotten the pep-talk yet. After that, you’ll see why everyone else here is a little too willing to kill.”

“How many h-have you killed...?”

The alpha’s lips twitch into a smile and she answers,”Almost every single one of them, Sam. Everyone has their numbers, but mine... Well, it’s not really much of a competition, if I’m being honest. The few that are left aren’t exactly lining up to face me.”

“Y-you killed all of those people. Our friends, our kind,” The omega hisses in anger,”Nothing, nothing, can justify that, Ava.”

“I’m the undefeated heavy weight champ.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t think God has much to do with this, Sam,” Ava corrects with a thoughtful look. Her mouth twists grimly and she suddenly pushes a hand forward, the shadows pooled at her feet begin to take form again. Before Sam can even lift a finger in defense, he’s slammed face first into the trunk of a tree, and then he goes sliding upward.

“Damn you, Ava,” Sam grits out through a mouthful of blood. He can feel the latter’s demon pawn pressing into his back, it’s soft hisses agains this ear keeping him still.

Ava takes holds one palm in the air, her eyes squinted in concentration. “You have to understand, Sam. I’ve been here a lot longer than any of you. I’ve seen more of our kind sent here than you could possibly imagine. Of course at first I had no choice, killing all of those people, if I wanted to survive,” She lets out a long suffering sigh,”But after killing so many it didn’t bother me anymore.”

“D-Don’t do this -“ The omega cries out as he’s thrown onto his back, and his scent begins to take on a smokier smell as his heart nearly beats out of his chest.

The alpha lowers her palm ever so slightly and scoffs,”You’re no different from the rest of us, Sam. When you’re cornered, you’d put yourself first too. You’d kill to protect yourself, it’s only human.” She lifts a finger and traces it across the air, then the demon mimics her movements against his chest.

Sam cries out as the thing digs a sharp claw into his chest and slowly, tortuously drags it. Ava moves to lift another finger, when all of a sudden a hand much bigger then her own wraps around it and seizes her use of that hand. She lets out a surprised gasp as another hand grips the side of her face in a tight hold, and twists it to the side with a loud, final pop. Her limp body drops to the ground with a thud, and the demon she was controlling flickers in its form and returns to the shadows with a shriek.

The omega cries out as he goes crashing towards the ground, limbs flailing, when he manages to push two hands to either side of his body and push back with telekinetic force. He freezes in midair, a few inches from the ground, before allowing himself to drop with a soft grunt. He lays there for a minute, his breathes coming out in heavy wheezes and his heart hammering in his chest like a rabbit running for its skin. Then he feels two hands grip his shirt and hoist him into the air, then set him back on his uneasy feet.

“Easy,” The voice says as he begins to sway forward.

Sam sniffs the air, and a scent like black licorice and bitter tang of sweat hits his nostrils. “Jake,” Sam manages to mumble, cracking open one eye.

Jake catches him as he falls forward, gently setting him against one of the many trees on the area. Jake, another alpha, begins fidgeting with Sam’s shirt, trying to see the wound on his chest. He cringes when he sees the seeping tear, and begins to ruffle through his large coat’s pockets before bringing out a small first-aid kit. He popped it open and began rummage through it.

“I was out camping when I was caught. My old man taught me to always carry a first-aid kit because I never knew what kind of trouble I could run into,” Jake explains as he pulls out a pen light and shines it on the wound,”Never thought it’d be of any use until now.”

“W-What are you doing,” Sam chokes out as Jake pulls out a needle and thread, sticking the penlight in between his teeth.

Jake raises a brow, and once he’s threaded the needle, pulls the pen light out of mouth and sticks it in Sam’s hands. “Never seen someone stitch a wound? Shine this on there so I don’t prick where I don’t have to,” He grunts as he shoves a piece of cloth into the latter’s mouth,”Sorry, but I can’t have you hollering and letting that other bitch know where we are.”

Sam groans loudly into the cloth as Jake pours some rubbing alcohol over his chest, and closes his eyes so tight he feels a few tears slip out. Jake then proceeds to push the needle through his skin, making Sam bite into the cloth harder, and dig his nails into the moist ground beneath him. For the next few minutes they’re both quiet, besides the occasional groan or whimper.

The omega spits out the piece of cloth and asks,”W-why are you helping me? From what I’ve heard it’s every man for himself here.”

“Yeah, but I can’t face her on my own. So for now, we’re a team,” The alpha responds, biting off the final thread. He brings out a small tube of ointment and rubs a generous amount over the bunched up skin, before wrapping some bandages over it.

“Who? Lily,” Sam murmurs softly.

Jake nods in confirmation. “Ava liked to think she was the heavy weight champion because she killed the most,” He frowns in thought, before uttering,”Lily killed just a few, but in ways no person should ever have to go out.”

Sam stands on shaky legs like a young colt, and grits out,”Then let’s go.”

“That’s only first aid. It’s too dangerous for you too move now.”

“I-I’ll be fine. Thank you, Jake,” The omega manages to grip onto a tree and hold himself upright,”W-Why did you save me? Wouldn’t it just be easier to finish me off? Unless-“

“I can’t take Lily on my own,” Jake admits, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder to keep him standing,”I’m thinking that if we work together, we may be able to take her out.”

Sam shakes his head and says,”We can just leave, we’re already in the woods. If we go now -“

“Do you think we can just leave this place?”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can, Jake, the both of us.”

“No,” Jake snarls, his grip on the latter’s shoulder tightening,”People tried that, in the beginning. The bastard that brought us here, the demon, he takes you out himself.”

Sam frowns and concedes,“Okay so what? After Lily -“

“Every man for himself, again. What do you say?” Jake questions, offering his free hand to him.”

“I don’t think I have any other options here,” The omega states, taking the hand in a weak grip. 

“Neither of us do.”






Brady picks at his teeth with his fingernail, gliding his tongue over them after he’s done. “So, there how many left now, three?”

“Three,” Azazel confirms with a slight nod,”And I’ve already got my bets placed on the winning horse.”

“Smart people don’t bet, not unless they somehow know their horse is crossing that finish line before the other fuckers,” Brady replies with a curious look,”Tell me, what makes you so sure you made the right bet?”

The yellow-eyed demon smirks at that and says,”Lets just say, that I’ve done something that’ll push my horse right to the finish line.”

The demon grins at that and questions,”So, you’re not going to loop me in? I suppose that’ll make the payoff more enjoyable, but still... Consider my curiosity peaked” He let’s out a sigh and continues,”I take that the winning horse is your prized beast? Your favorite, Sam Singer?”

“Are you doubtful of his capabilities?”

“No, but that’s the problem. That’s what they’ll always be. Just capabilities; things that he could do,” Brady answers, his mouth a thin line,”That doe-eyed kid won’t let go, not like the rest of them did. They were weak, sniveling brats, desperate for power, but Sam - He’s different.”

“He doesn’t want power, which makes him the best to hold it,” Azazel points out, his piss-yellow eyes meeting the latter’s,”He’ll let go, eventually. They all do.”

Brady’s lips are thin line as he specifies,”You know, you haven’t even given your prized beast the pep-talk, yet. How are you so damned sure that the hard-headed omega will let go like the rest of them did?”

“Because he’s done it before.”

The demon narrows his eyes and says,”And the feathers?”

“The angels know what they’re doing. Less psychics are better for all of us. If they’re to develop like the others have...”

“They’d be able to fight against us,” Brady finishes with a grimace. 

“So, for now, we’ll trust them to do what’s necessary for the apocalypse to happen. But after that...” 

The demon gives him a Cheshire Cat smile and purrs,”But, if you did bet on the wrong horse, it’ll be such a seem to see a prime specimen like that just be thrown into the dirt,” He let’s out a pleasured growling noise from his throat,”I may let another possess his corpse, just so I can have the pleasure of fucking a big, tantalizing omega like that just one time.”

 The yellow-eyes demon made a sound of disgust and growls,”I strongly suggest you stop thinking of him with just your dick, Brady. He just may be your future king.”

Chapter Text

May 30, 1999

Dean Winchester kicked in the front door, his gun already pointed forward with safety off. "No, no, no!” Dean heard himself yelling.

The old man, Silas is he remembers correctly, his stomach was a crimson mess of blood and entrails that shouldn't have been visible. A blood red river ran from between the old man’s lips as he gasped and wheezed, trying to speak. Unable to form words, he pointed a shaky finger himself, towards the back door. He nods, squeezing the man’s hand, before he goes running in that direction.

Gordon is walking down the narrow dirt road, the blade glistening with fresh blood hanging down by his side. He’s heading towards a car parked a few yards away, but somehow the hunter doubts he’ll make it that far. Journey’s “Only the Young” is blaring over the radio, making the latter completely oblivious to any attempt on his life. He raised his gun, aiming for the latter’s leg, and his fingers closed around the trigger as a resounding bang sounded.

Dean continued walking forward, adjusting his aim so that the next shot would hit his other leg. “Bastard,” He snarls, watching as the other man attempts to make a limping run for his car. He had shot him once, hitting him straight in the leg, but that apparently wasn’t enough. He fired again.

He was running. Anger swelled in him and drove him forward as he got closer, closer, and even closer. Racing around an oncoming car, he headed towards the form that was now dragging itself in an attempt to escape, feet kicking up dust as adrenaline pumped through him like fire. Then he was on him, his arms twisting around the former hunter’s body as they both go skidding across the dirt road. Pebbles dig into his exposed skin, and his jeans tear as his knees scrape against the ground.

Dean straddled him and his fists flew, striking again and again and again, releasing the regret and the pain that fuelled him. Mid swing, his fist stopped and his fingers went limp. Looking down, he barely recognised the former hunter. His eyes were closed, blood gushing from multiple cuts that now decorated his face. His cheeks were swelling already and blood dribbled from his lip.

Gordon somehow manages to laugh, and spits out a mouthful of blood. “I-I though y-you of all people w-would be all f-for the e-end of those abominations... T-the a-angels they know w-what t-they really are...”

Dean snarks,”What’s up with the church chat lately?”

He let’s out a shaking breath, continuing,”T-that o-one, the o-one y-you’re smitten with, h-he’s the worst of t-the worst... The w-wolf that d-dug his way into the h-hen’s house -“

“Don’t you talk about him like that,” Dean growls, grabbing the latter’s jacket and giving him a rough shake,”What was it the other psychics called you? ‘The Trash-Can Man’ wasn’t it? Fitting name for scum like you.”

“I-I don’t think you q-quite got t-the meaning behind the n-n-name,” Gordon spits,”I w-was called that because...” He leans forward, his lips parting into a slow smile,”I-I took out t-the trash of the earth...”

Rising swiftly, Dean lowered the gun to rest over Gordon’s head, his mouth a thin line. A tiny voice told him to stop, to tie him up and bring him back to the other hunters for judgment - He never meant to shoot, but his brain skipped a beat, his trigger finger squeezed in surprise and a single shot fired when it shouldn’t have. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty.

“And now you’ll rest with the rest of the trash,” Dean hisses, spitting on the ground next to the latter’s corpse. He turns on his heel and begins to make his way back to the house, silently pleading with a god that either wasn’t there is don’t care, that that old man was somehow still alive.

The hunter made his way up the steps and pushed open the back door, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. The old psychic was leaning against the wall, and he’s still breathing, he hears the soft rasp as air flows down into his ruined lungs. Each slow and painful breath echoes in his ear drums.

“H-hey, you’re going to be okay,” Dean reassures crouching down next the old psychic, keeping a gentle hand on one of his knobby knees,”We’re going to get you to hospital, and they’ll patch you up.”

Silas shakes his head, coughing softly. “No, m-my time is d-done, young man,” He pats the hand that’s settled on his knee, and chokes out,”I-It’s time that y-you remembered... I-I begged them, t-to let your boys r-rem...” He coughs again, his lips trembling as he clenches his hand in an iron grip.

“Remember...? Remember what?” Dean questions, his face one of confusion. Silas extends two fingers towards his temple, and gently presses them there,”Silas..?”

“Y-you deserve to k-know the truth,” Silas manages to choke out, his mouth twisting into a grim smile,”W-why you’re so a-afraid of my kind...”

Sam Singer leans against the wall, and allows himself to slowly slide down until he’s sitting in the cold, wet concrete. He lets out a shaking breath, watching it turn into warm fog that intrudes the frigid air. Dean Winchester plops down beside him, immediately pressing his hands against his mouth, breathing against them attempting to coax some warmth back into them.

The omega flickered his eyes towards the figure that sat in a rickety wooden chair in the middle of a monstrously large devil’s trap. The possessed man glanced up at him through bloodied matts of hair, his lips forming a smirk,”Sweet, soft baby omega... I bet you’ve never even been touched by a man. Much less fucked -“

“That’s enough,” The alpha snarls, standing up, and splashing some holy water from his canteen across the thing’s face. The demon howled and thrashed in his chair, slurring curses under his breath.

Panting, the demon spits out,”I’m going to show that tiny boy, baby boy, what it feels like when an alpha goes in high and dry. Show ‘em how a knot feels without any slick to slow it down...”

Dean shoots up like a rocket, pointing a finger at the demon. “Say one more damn word! I fucking dare you, you son of a bitch!” The determined set of his jaw. Sam has no doubt that Dean would strangle the thing with his bare hands if it’d do any good.

“I’m going to rape him while you watch,” The demon chuckles, rocking back and forth in his chair. He sing-songs in time with the rocking of his chair,”I’m a-coming for him... Gonna come for him...”

Sam levitates the thing of duct tape into the air, and wills it to wrap around the demon’s flapping lips. The thing’s yells are muffled behind the layers upon layers of tape but he continues to rock back and forth in his chair.

“Y-your name is Dean, right?”

Dean nods stiffly, ignoring Sam’s puppy dog gaze that’s settled on him. “I’m sorry, kid,” The hunter apologizes, still trying to avoid the other’s eyes,”You never should’ve come on this hunt. You’re too damn young. You’re what - Eleven, now?”

“Thirteen,” Sam huffs, shielding his eyes under his bangs.

“You’re kidding me? Man, last time I saw you, you were just a squalling baby,” The alpha scoffs, his mouth quirking into a little smirk,”But I’ve gotta say, I thought you’d grow a bit more, kiddo -“

The omega scoots away from the latter, and hisses,”I’m not a kid, jerk. I’m a hunter, same as you! A-and...” He mumbles under this breath and his cheeks turn a soft pink.

“Come on, spit it out, kiddo,” The hunter says, trying to bite back his amused smile. He pokes the young man’s side, snorting when he squirms away, batting like a cat does a laser dot at his hand.

The psychic tentatively looks up, glancing through the feathered curtain of his overgrown bangs. His hazel hues settle on the latter’s magenta’s dry, but plush lips that had soft indents from where’d he’d been nervously chewing. The handful of brown freckles scattered across his nose and cheek bones, that looked like a pathway to his eyes. Those eyes; they were every hue of the forest, rimmed cooly with moss. Next to the shade of his hair, that dirty blonde, he was alive in the same way birds are, casually wild.

“Your dad, Bobby, he’s told me a lot about you,” Dean starts off, folding his hands over his stomach as he leans against the wall further,”And from other hunters. You’ve got quite the reputation for a just a little peck with an attitude twice his size.”

“Oh, and what hunter hasn’t heard of the great DeanWinchester,” Sam says with a mocking grandiose voice,”The slightly above average hunter that can’t get out of the shadow of his dear ‘ol dad.”

The alpha raises a brow, and questions,”’Slightly above average’? Tell me, peck, have you ever decapitated a vampire with a razor wire, peck?”

“I did it was a snap of my fingers,” The omega retorts, narrowing his eyes.

That shuts up the hunter real quick, making him purse his lips. The two stay in awkward silence, nothing but the demon scraping his chair. Then both of them jump when there was a resounding crash from outside. The warded door, the one thing keeping the swarm of demons outside, was starting to strain. It pushed forward, the wood bulging, as if a great flood had rolled into it.

“We’re going to die tonight,” Sam whispers, clenching his hands,”...Aren’t we? And don’t bother trying lie to me. I’ll know if you do, so - Please. Please, just...”

Dean nodded, his breath hitching in his lungs,”Probably,” He utters as if the words were acid in his mouth,”I won’t keep you ignorant, if that’s what you want, kid. We’re surrounded... I, hell, haven’t even got a bullet to make them flinch.”

“So, in other words, we’re screwed,” Sam laughs coldly, trying to keep his words unstrained as they leave his lips. His nails dig into the tender flesh of his hand, nearly drawing blood.

The omega abruptly stands and makes his way to the phone hook omg the corner, snatching the receiver off the hook and holding it to his ear. He punches several numbers and waits a moment. He shakes his head, muttering under his breath, as he tries again. After the third attempt he slams the receiver back against the hook, and leans his head against the wall.

The alpha stiffened as he heard it, the soft weeping the young man was muffling with the sleeve of his shirt as he hides his face against the wall. The psychic was too ashamed to let him see his crying eyes. The hunter swallowed hard, wanting to cry too. A couple of his tears joined his’ as listening to the young man so heartbroken affected his own emotions. But, no, he couldn’t let the latter see him cry. He had to stay strong, for both of their sakes.

Dean stood and went to stand next to him, gripping his shoulder in a firm grip as he cries feebly. He assures tenderly,”Come on, kid. Let it out now so you can face those bastards without so much as a twitch."

The door heaved forward again, and the omega gently pushed away the alpha’s hand. He makes his way across the room and grabs the bloody knife, the one that had been used for pumpkin-carving the demon, from the table a few feet away. He expertly flips it from hand to hand, and catches it by its handle. The alpha went to stand beside him, and picked up the other knife that had a serated blade and the canister of holy water.

“Sure you want to do this?” The hunter questions.

The psychic nods and sniffs, replying,”I can take care of myself,” He gives the latter a watery smile,”You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry enough, peck,” Dean shoots back with a smirk.

“Perfect combination.”

The door burst open like a melon being dropped from an airplane and crashing to the earth. Four demons entered, all in a mixed array of vessels; alphas, omegas, and betas. Their scents, all like varying stages of rotting meat, were intermingled and created an overall wretched odor in the warehouse. A man and woman, both alphas, stepped forward, their normal human hues flickering into dark inkwells. The other two, an omega and a beta, stayed off to the side guarding the door.

The alphas’ confidence irritated Dean. Their matching grins and black eyes made him furious, especially when those eyes settled on the young man at his side. The eerie lighting of the space around them made those eyes all the more intimidating. One alpha, the woman, snaps her fingers and suddenly the hunter is flung tot he back wall. His head snaps against the concrete and it’s lights out.

When Dean wakes up with a throbbing headache, he’s sprawled on the floor. The bastards hadn’t even seen the point in tying him up. After all, they outnumbered him four to one, and even if there was only one of them, well... It was as simple as ‘well’.

“Where’s the kid? What’d you do with him?” He demands, sitting up.

“Who?” The beta demon questions, his mouth a thin line of disinterest.

The alpha bares his teeth. “The only kid I had with me!”

The demon’s lips twitched, and he responds,”Well now, that is mine and my companions’ business. Not yours, meat sack.”

“Tell me!” The hunter spits out, standing up on wobbly legs.

“You have more important things to worry about right now. You are about to give me a very good time. That little boy, he doesn’t concern you,” The demon purrs, cracking his knuckles as he approaches the human.

The beta demon abruptly slams his fist into the latter’s stomach. Dean doubled over, dropping to his knees, convulsed in pain. The demon circled around him, before bringing his fist down and slamming it into his shoulder blade. He cried out, but came back up with his knife, slashing at the demon before him. It plunged into his neck, a spurt of blood following, but he doesn’t even so much as grimace. The black eyed bastard pulled the knife out and twisted it from his hand. With a toss, he stuck it in the wall.

The demon suddenly froze, his fist was mid swing and he turned to look at something. “What the fuck - How did you -“ He’s suspended in the air and then thrown into the ceiling, his body breaking against it with several ear-splitting cracks. The demon screams again as he’s squished into the area above, his blood starting to trickle down like a sulfuric rain of crimson.

Dean dares to glance where the demon had last looked. Sam is standing there, dead calm. His face should be showing the pain of the wounds on his body, but he had nothing but a stone cold expression. The omega turned a little, his eyes lazily glancing the demon he has pinned like a fly to the ceiling. He calmly lifted a hand towards him.

There was an impact in the air, thunder with no sound. The demon let out a final pathetic wall before his entire body illuminated a sickly orange and he went limp, his body free falling from the ceiling. With a stomach lurching crunch his vessel smacked to the concrete and broke like an egg on impact. But instead of yolk, it was blood that’s splashed over both of them.

Dean nearly vomits right then and there as he shakily wipes the blood from his face, scrubbing it with the sleeve of his jacket. “S-Sam...” He manages to choke out, his gaze falling on the boy.

Sam’s eyes flicker towards him, and he makes no move to wash the blood covering his face. His eyes that used to be the softest brown infused with green, were now cold, desolate as if no warmth could ever penetrate their gaze. That wasn’t the most unsettling thing, however, but the yellow ring that surrounded them. A piss-yellow loop of color surrounded his hazel hues.

The omega finally speaks, and lifts his hands before his face. “W-What’s happening to me,” He murmurs as if in a trance.

The alpha slowly walks to the other side of the room, and he tries to ignore the eyes that follow him. He pulls the knife from the wall and points it in the boy’s direction. The psychic’s eyes the weapon warily. A second or two later, he closes them as if he did not have a serrated blade pointed at him. Instead, the boy just stood there still as the stump of a tree, then a single delicate tear slid down his cheek.

“Dean! No!” Bobby Singer is racing through the ruined remains of the doors, one hand clenching a shotgun and the other held in a defensive stance as he stands in front of the boy.

“Bobby,” Dean grits out, warning him,”That’s not Sam, damn it! L-look at his eyes... Something got to him, a-and I don’t know what it is, but -“

“It is Sam,” Bobby retorts, shielding his son with his body,”He’s my boy, Dean, just let me handle it.”

The younger alpha shakes his head, and steps closer, knife in hand. “You won’t, Bobby,” He says softly, pitying the older man,”He’s not your son, not anymore. He’s a monster, and we’ve got to treat him like we do all monsters -“

The shotgun is cocked and aimed at the latter. “Call him a monster again and your guts will be pumped full of lead, boy,” The older alpha growls defensively,”Stop trying to be like your daddy with the ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ shtick! I know you don’t want to hurt him. Not really, so drop the damn act!”

“You’re right, Bobby, I don’t. Of course I don’t! But,” Dean hisses, still not lowering the knife. He points to the crumpled corpse on the floor,”What kind of thing, can do something like that, and not be a monster? And I guarantee there’s more bodies -“

“Demons, boy - He killed demons!” Bobby exclaims in exasperation.

“Exactly! Nothing, no one, can kill a fucking demon, Bobby!”

“Dad -“ Sam grits out, silent tears streaming from his eyes,”H-he’s right... I’m sorry, but he is - I don’t know what’s happening to me, or what I am, but I-I do know he’s right. I’m a... monster.”

The older alpha spins on his heel, and faces the omega,”Don’t you say another damn word!” He turns back to the latter,”You’re not laying a finger on him!”

“H-his eyes are yellow, Bobby,” The younger alpha roars,”Yellow! He’s possessed by something far more powerful than any of us, powerful enough to kill demons... To kill some of the strongest hunters ever born, including my mother -“

“He’s not possessed you idjit!” Bobby retorts, narrowing his gaze.

“Then what is he?”

The older hunter closes his eyes, and opens them after a moment. He states,”He’s a psychic. You know that, but he’s not like the rest, boy,” He takes a shaking breath,”Psychics are humans that have demon blood somewhere in their ancestry, but Sam’s is a little closer to home. It’s why he’s so much stronger than the others and it’s why -“

“His eyes are yellow,” Dean’s finishes and his eyes widen at the realization,”That’s his son, that’s the son of the bastard that killed my mother -“

“He killed his mother, too!”

“You knew,” Dean seethes, stomping over with the knife raised until he was a mere foot away,”You knew what he was, but you still let him live - You still let him grow i-into this! This thing, this monster!”

Sam took a deep breath, his fists tightening at his sides, tears streaming from his eyes. After that, his breathing stopped momentarily with the sharpness of the hurt. He attempts to step from his father’s side, and chokes out,”Move... please move! He’s right -“

Bobby moved forward, slamming the butt of the gun onto Dean's head, dazing him. The younger alpha stumbled backwards gripping his head, before falling to the floor in a heap. The older alpha lowers his shot gun to his side and snaps his head to the floor when the latter begins to move. The younger hunter groaned, rolling his head and blinking as he squinted at the older hunter.

“I’ll tell the rest of them,” Dean snarls, reaching for the knife that had skidded across the floor when he fell,”If you don’t kill me now, I’ll have the rest of the hunters on him like a pack of dogs! I swear to God!”

“You don’t have to be like your daddy, boy,” Bobby hisses, kicking the knife away,”He didn’t choose to be this way. And you and I know better than anybody, family don’t end with blood. “

Dean shook his head, giving the latter a grim smile,”He’ll never be family, not really. He’ll turn on you... one day, you’ll see. You’ll see him for the monster he is. But by then it’ll be too late, his hands will already be at your throat.”

“I guess I was wrong about you. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Bobby growls, lowering his shotgun,”I’m sorry about this, Dean. But a father will do anything to protect his son.”

Silas gasped and choked, dropping his fingers to his side. “Y-You were so consumed with being l-like your father then, s-so Bobby k-knew that Sam w-would never be safe with you knowing w-what he was and w-what he could do. S-Sam was t-too powerful w-when he let g-go of all restraints, t-too much like h-his true b-blooded father... So, Bobby had me e-erase the event, everything the two of you even knew of each other, f-from both of your minds entirely... S-Sam was too powerful for me, so he r-remembered bits and pieces, but n-never enough to know the truth,” He coughs and shakes his head,”I j-just pray that y-you know better now. T-that you don’t judge s-someone one b-by what y-you’re a-afraid they’ll do, rather t-than what t-they’ve done.”

Dean shakes his head, gripping his jawline as he chokes out,”I-I can’t. Y-you shouldn’t have shown me, damn it... I’m not strong enough to -“

“Y-You are,” The psychic insists,”I-I’ve seen it in you, young man. You’re not like your father. You can be different from him, better then him, but o-only if you choose to be. And I know you’ve seen that S-Sam S-Singer is anything, b-but a monster... h-he just needs you t-there to remind him...” He extends his fingers to his temple, coughs a final time and his head starts to teeter off to the side. His fingers feel gracelessly to the floor, rapping against the hard wood below.

“S-Silas? Silas. Silas. Silas!” Dean exclaims, slotting his fingers against the old man’s neck to check for a pulse. Nothing.

The alpha groans when all of a sudden his head begins to throb, and he closes his eyes at the abrupt pain. Under the darkness of his eyelids, a movie begins to play in his vision. The hunter sees the young psychic with his eyes of hazel and honey, peaking up from the curtain of his bangs. The curve of his bubblegum pink lips as he tries to choke back laughter. His enthralling scent that sang ‘omega’ in notes of spearmint and pine. Looking back, it was probably love at first sight, but he was too shrouded in his father’s shadow to see it then.

“You still let him grow i-into this! This thing, this monster!”

Dean feels the blood drain from his face, and he’s suddenly very, very cold. He mashed his hands into his cheeks and shook his head. He lets out an uncontrolled moan and abruptly stands, swiping his arm across the kitchen table. A porcelain bowl shatters on the floor and several fruits go rolling across the linoleum floor.

Son of a bitch!




Sam stands outside of the house’s window, watching the scene that unfolds inside. A baby wiggles in its crib, soft cooing noises exiting its mouth. A man stands beside it, silent and watchful, not a sound escaping him as he settles his eyes on the wiggling thing. Slowly, he rolls up the sleeve of his jacket and runs his fingernail across his wrist, not even flinching as blood spurts in a crimson river that flows down below. It splashes across the infant’s lips, and the baby gulps at it, hungrily licking his lips when the flow abruptly stops.

A woman enters the room, still tying her night robe as her eyes settle on the man by her infants crib. “You came,” She whispers, her lips twitching into a small smile,”You finally came. I-is everything to your liking?”

The man glances up, his eyes glaring yellow like jaundice, in the dark room. “He’s perfect,” He finally utters, Running a hand across the infant’s head of unruly brown hair. The baby food again, still lapping up the remnants of blood from his little magenta lips,”You’ve... done well. Better then I expected you, too.”

“A-anything for you,” The woman declares, splaying her fingers across her throat.

“What is his name,” The man holds out a pinkie to the infant, and his lips quirk ever so slightly when he grabs it and easily crushes it with his grip.

“Sam. His name is Sam,” The woman answers, taking a tentative step closer to him.

The man leans down, gently tugging his finger from the infant’s grip. “You’ll be the strongest of them, Sam,” He holds his wrist to the infant, satisfied when he begins to suckle at it,”The hunters, they can’t suspect a thing. You do understand, don’t you?”

“I-I do... It’ll be worth it, in the end. Won’t it?”

“It will,” The man assures, turning on his heel and walking towards the woman. He snaps his fingers, and turns his back to the flames that begin to rise in the nursery. The woman’s screams fall on uncaring ears, and by the time the hunters arrive she is a blistered and charred corpse, but her infant, is still safe from the flames in the farthest corner of the room.

Sam’s mouth is open, but his hand is clasped over it, trying to muffle his cry. His eyes begin to water as he watches her, his own flesh and blood mother, burn to death mere yards away from his crib. And he can do nothing but watch as several men rush in, grabbing his squalling younger self from his crib and running out of the house.

“Relax, Sam,” Azazel whispers, his breath dancing across the shell of Sam’s ear. Cold shivers run down his spine, and the demon’s fingers curl over his neck,”You can’t change the past.”

Sam shakes his head, pushing off the latter’s hand to run towards the blazing house. “Mom!” He screams, his tears running down his cheeks.

“I simply wanted to show you an image. This is the night that you transformed,” The yellow eyed demon explains, slowly walking towards the latter,”From an ordinary psychic, into a truly special being. You may have already guess, but yes, I am the one that enhanced your powers.”

Sam turns to Azazel, his lip twitching as he snarls,”What the hell are you playing at?”

Azazel let’s out a sigh, and questions,”Isn’t it obvious? Sam, you do know a psychic is, don’t you?” He motions to the latter, and continues,”Psychics are strange things, really, things that humans tend not to delve too deep on. No living human knows their true origin.”

“I guess you’re going to tell me?”

The demon smiles ever-so-slightly at that, and states,”It’s all about blood, you see,” He runs his fingers across his wrist, tracing the veins,”When demons spawn offspring with humans, it doesn’t produce what one would think. Many believed the spawn of this kind of pairing would result in some sort of Rosemary’s Baby situation. Instead, it produced the first psychics.”

The psychic paled, his eyes widening as he utters a single,”No...”

“Those psychics were the strongest, but as they had children, and their children had children, each generation’s power grew weaker and weaker, rather than stronger,” Azazel says,”And that’s what they are today, meager humans that can maybe do a calculus problem without writing it down. A rare few have slightly more ‘theatric’ abilities.”

Sam gulps audibly and chokes out,”You’re saying that, I have... demon blood in me? That every psychic does...?”

“And the more powerful you are, the closer that blood is to home.”

“T-that’s not possible...” The psychic denies, shaking his head.

The demon’s lips form a thin smile and he presses,”Yes, Sam, your mother was a psychic, not a particularly powerful one, but she worshipped the old ways. Her entire family did, so she was all too happy when I asked her to -“

No!” Sam roars, his stomach clenching painfully at the very thought,”That’s not true! You’re lying!”

“You’re not the only one, Sam,” Azazel says, ignoring Sam’s outburst,”Your generation was promising with my blood pumping through your veins, and you are the cream of the crop. But there were only a handful of elites, and the game has already begun. Only one of you can get out of this town alive. The lone survivor will reap the reward. The rest will perish. The game is played to the death.”

The psychic narrows his eyes, and grits out,”This is a game?”

“That’s right, Sam,” The demon replies with a smirk, the human’s anger more amusing to him than threatening,”And like all games there can only be one winner. To the victor go the spoils. And the victor will qualify as the leader of my powerful army, the army that will eventually serve the devil himself.”

Sam scoffs at that,”Your army? Give me a break. Who’d wanna lead that?”

Azazel laughs coldly, and suggests,”You’d best get back to the game. I have high expectations for you, Sam. Please, don’t disappoint me.”

Sam wakes up suddenly, every thought in high definition. His eyes take in every ray of light and without a doubt he knows that he’s slept too long. Jake is in front of him, cooking a rather pathetic hunk of meat over their slap of fire. The alpha glances up from the crackling fire and meets the omega’s eyes. 

“Rabbit,” Jake grunts, motioning to the thing cooking over the fire,”I chased it all damn morning, but - You saw him, didn’t you?”

Sam slowly nods, running a hand over his face. “He said that all of us, the ones that were brought here, are...” He trails off, the words stuck on his tongue,”You knew, and you killed them anyway... Your own brothers and sisters!”

“I did what I had to do to survive,” The alpha growls,”Besides, they may have been related to me by blood, but they sure as hell weren’t my family! My family is at home, waiting for me to come back, and I’ll be damned if I die, leaving them alone, for some nameless bastards!” 

The omega spins away in a huff, and grits out,”So, that’s it? You’re just going to kill every single damn person here, your own blood, without even trying to take down the thing that did this to us?”

“I wasn’t here in the beginning, same as you, but I didn’t have to be,” Jake snarls, his scent taking on a putrid smell as his anger steadily rose,”I saw the bodies. Five of them to be exact. Five psychics went after that thing, and look how many bodies are hanging off of the water tower now! Nothing can beat him, nothing! We’ve only got two choices here... win the game or die.”

Sam stands and takes a step in his direction, holding a hand forward as he reasons,”But if we at least try -“

”No, Sam, we can’t. He created us and he can easily destroy us. He made us like this...” Jake lets out a cold laugh,”Their blood, demon blood, it’s pumping through our veins, Sam. We can’t help but be like them once we let go...”

Sam clenches his hands at his sides and he insists,”You’re wrong. We can be good. We can go our own way -“

“S-Sam...?” A strangled voice grunts out, sounding as if it was coming from a blender.

Andy limps forward from behind a tree, his dirt encrusted nails digging deeply into the it’s bark as he holds himself up. His other hand is pressing deeply into his blood soaked abdomen, trying to use the cloth around it to try and keep pressure on it. He keeps his eyes on the ground, actively trying to avoid the two sets settled on him.

“Andy!” Sam exclaims with a shaky smile, going on his direction, not noticing the broken bottle the latter had hanging from his free hand.

Andy looks up at last, his lips twitching to reveal a toothy, blood smeared smile. His eyes are glazed over white, staring lifelessly at the two of them as he runs his tongue across his dry, cracked lips. Before Sam can even have a sharp intake of breath, Andy is lunging at him, slashing at him mindlessly with a broken bottle. Jake shoves Sam to the side, and he quickly grabs Andy’s wrist and snaps it to the side making the bottle drop uselessly to the ground.

Andy snarls deep in his throat, and begins to struggle futilely in Jake’s crushing grip, snapping at him like a rabid animal. The beta manages to clamp his teeth down on the alpha’s forearm, only for his front teeth to shatter on impact with a spray of blood across the latter’s face. The alpha grabs the beta’s head, who’s still attempting to cling to his forearm with the shattered remains of his jaw, and twists it off to the side and tosses him across the woody area.

Panting, Sam guesses,”So, Lily can’t just control living bodies now... she can control dead ones, too?” 

“Why don’t you ask them?” Jake grits out as he raises his finger in the direction of where he’d thrown the undead psychic.

Lily was standing in front of a small group of people with her hands raised in the air, her palms resting on an imaginary surface with her fingers splayed. Abruptly her fingers shifted and the undead psychics began to move in their direction; they had a sloppy gait as they ran forward.

Scott’s lack of eyelids gave his eyeballs a popping look as they swiveled in their sockets, eventually landing on Sam. His hand lifted shakily into the air, pressing two fingers together, and he snaps them. Blue white sparks zig zag between his fingers, and fierce bolts of electricity shots from his fingertips in his direction.

Sam quickly threw his hand forward, blocking the attack with a telekinetic shield. But not even a second passed, when a brillaiant ball of electricity was thrown against his already strained defense. When the smoke cleared, he was unharmed but still visibly shaken. Then, Scott’s knee to his jaw knocked him flat on his back. He fell on him, sitting on his chest, desperately attempting to touch him with his powers.

Scott’s fists kept hitting an invisible barrier that Sam was barely managing to maintain against the constant strain. He grunts loudly as one hit finally makes its mark, and strikes his side. The shock of the pain made him cry out, for every muscle in his side went rigid with agony of the electrified blow. Scott’s energy pulsed just the slightest bit and Sam’s cry grew louder. He heard a pop, and felt a rib crack.

“Sam,” Jake roars as he throws an already bludgeoned Andy into a tree. Then the shadows around the trees begin to bleed forward into the light.

Ava halted and Sam could hear the bones in her stiffened neck creak as she turned her head. Then with a faint hiss, an acheri rose from the shadows and began to circle Jake, like a shark into bloody waters. Sam was covered in sweat as he lay in the dirt, panting, tears running from his eyes as he was slowly electrocuted to death.

Scott drew a rattling breath, then he made a low growling moan that chilled Sam’s blood. It was as if the thing knew he was close to death, and his head went limp and lolled to the ground, he saw the acheri closing in on Jake. The demon grazed it’s clawed hand across the latter’s neck, and clamped down with a force that nearly quadrupled his own inhuman strength.

Jake chokes out and claws uselessly at the thing’s hands. Sam’s eyes begin to roll into the back of his head, but then a single light penetrated the veil of darkness that threatened to cover his eyes. With all of his mental strength, Sam focused on his hunger to live and envisioned Lily standing a few mere feet away. An easy feet for a psychic that wasn’t being electrocuted to death; that tended to screw up anyone’s concentration.

“Lily,” There was dirt in Sam’s mouth and blood,”Die.”

Lily convulsed and fell over, face first, into the dirt, dead.

All of the undead psychics jumped up and ran towards their fallen necromancer. When the psychic didn't respond, they all groped and moaned for her but none of their decaying brain couldn't figure out how to follow. Then all of their movements began to slow and they all began to ease back into complete and total death. Their legs kept shuffling even though they could go no further. They all lay curled up in a heap; the casualties of the needless battle.

“You’re no different from the rest of us, Sam. When you’re cornered, you’d put yourself first too. You’d kill to protect yourself, it’s only human.”

 Sam opens his eyes a little, and immediately he tastes a coppery taste in his mouth. Blood. A sharp pain in his side caught his breath when he tried to inhale too deeply. But nonetheless, he managed to shakily stand with the support of a tree.

Sam flinches when he feels Jake’s hand on his shoulder, an unreassuring presence that’s there to keep him in place. “Y-you saved me, and I thank you for that,” He chokes out,”You’re a good man, but it’s just us now - I ain’t got no choice, now.”

“J-Jake,” Sam wheezes as he feels the grip on his shoulder tighten painfully,”I didn’t want to do this -“ He turns on his heel, throwing both of his hands forward in a crossed position.

Breathing heavily, Sam slowly lowers his arms from their crossed position as Jake goes flailing through the air with a roar of pain. He stiffens when he hears the sound of a car engine at his back, then the skid of brakes. He doesn’t turn around, just hunches slightly, trying to catch his breath.

The car door opens and someone yells,“Sam!”

The omega’s eyes widen, and his lips go slack. His breathing halts all together.

“Sam... Sammy!

Sam turns around, his breath returning in shaky intervals. His lips twitch into a weak smile and he feels his eyes begin to water as he chokes out,”...Dean?”

“Thank God you’re all right. Sam,” Dean utters taking a step forward, blinking frantically to keep his own relieved tears in check,”Thank God...”


Dean’s eyes widen and he screams,”SAMMMMMM!”

Chapter Text

May 30, 1999

Jake is behind him again in seconds, but Sam easily goes off to the side and doges the fist that was meant to impale him. Jake goes tumbling forward and lands face first in the dirt. Sam lifts his hand in the latter’s direction and drags him forward, until he’s a few inches away from him. Sam stiffens, a soft gasp shuddering out of his lips, when Dean is suddenly at his side, his hand on his shoulder.

“Sam, come on, we’ve gotta get out of here,” Dean gently presses, his other hand going to entangle with the latter’s.

The omega glances up at the alpha, licks his dry, quivering lips, before slowly nodding. The alpha tightens the grip on his hand and tugs him in the direction of the car, while the omega quickly flings the other alpha as far away as he can manage. The psychic hasn’t even opened up his car door, when a log comes hurling towards him, but he manages to block it with a flurried motion of his hand.

“Sam,” Dean yells, pulling out his gun and aiming for Jake, who’s slowly walking towards them, his arms drawn apart in an open challenge. He fires, hitting him square in the chest, but the hunter nearly shits himself when he sees the bullet flatten against his skin, and clatter to the ground,”Son of a bitch -“ He continues firing, watching as all the bullets spill off of his chest without so much as a blink.

Jake’s face is grim as he finally reaches a panting, exhausted Sam who’s leaning heavily against his car door. Sam has been pushed to the peak, in terms of how long he can use his powers. And that becomes evident, when the other psychic is able to grab him by his throat and lift him into the air, shaking him like a rag doll.

“Let him go, bastard!” Dean roars, diving in his direction with a knife in his grip. He attempts to plunge it into his throat, but the blade bends backwards, clattering uselessly out of his hand.

Jake easily throws Dean against his car, making it creak and rock roughly to the side, before landing back on four wheels with a loud thud. He grits out,”You have nothing to do with this. I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t make me!”

Jake inclines his head forward, tautening his grip on Sam’s neck as the omega struggles futily. The omega tries to pry the fingers around his throat away, but he is slowly losing consciousness. His heart, once quickly beating, is now slow in tempo and small ragged gasps escape his throat. His face begins to turn a sickening color as his sight begins to close in around him. The hands continue to squeeze, and his mouth falls open, a strangled, silent scream escaping as he goes limp.

Dean leans into the car, grabbing the shotgun that was laying across the backseat, and raises it until it’s pointed at Jake’s face. The gunshot echoed deafeningly in the forest, and Dean saw Jake stagger and fall, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Sam falls into a heap on the ground, his lips parting to let out a shaky exhale. Though the shell bounced right off his skin, the whiplash was an entirely different matter. Dean just imagined his brain ping-ponging against the inside of his skull. And he’s surprised that little cartoon birds aren’t fluttering around the latter’s head.

Sam pulls himself upright to where he’s sitting up on his stomach. Jake sees this, and laughs coldly, as his unfocused eyes swivel in his direction. “Y-you don’t have e-enough power left...” He groans, gripping his head with his palm.

Sam places two fingers on his temple and delves deep into the other psychic’s head. ‘You know, Jake, a funny thing about telekinesis is that... a lot of people want big. But really, it’s moving the small things that matters,’ The omega echoes inside of the alpha’s head,’The smaller the better.’

Sam raises two fingers up in demonstration,’You want to assassinate someone, so you get a telekinetic. They reach into a person's throat and gently with a thought they pinch the carotid artery shut,’ Jake gags as Sam pinches the two fingers together,’The blood stops, the brain starves and the target dies,’ Seconds pass and then the latter’s head slumps to the ground, lifeless,’Murder without a trace...’ The omega’s eyes close and he exhales softly, his head lolling to the side.

Sammy! No, no, no...Dean groans, attempting to pull himself up from the side of the car. He manages to pull himself up and he practically stumbles towards the latter’s limp form, crumpled in a heap on the ground.

The alpha runs his hand over the nape of the omega’s neck, his free fingers slotting against the side of his wind pipe. The omega’s pulse is weak, barely a hum against his fingers, but it’s there. He keeps his fingers there, and pulls the latter closer, pressing his forehead against his.

Breathing unsteadily, Sam’s eyes flutter open, and Dean pulls away reluctantly to let him attempt to sit up. His hazel hues immediately settle on him as he glances up, and wipes his sleeve across his mouth. “Dean,” He groans softly, his lips parting in surprise.

Dean wraps his arms around Sam and pulls him into a bone crushing embrace, his hand settled on the base of his neck as he settles his chin on his shoulder. Sam grunts in pain but hugs him back burying his face into the crook of the latter’s neck, inhaling deeply as he pulls him closer to his chest. Their two hearts beat rapidly in tandem against one another’s chests, and their breaths intermingled and mixed as they slowly glanced up and looked at one another.

"I'm glad you're alright," Dean mutters quietly, slowly allowing his arms to drop to his sides.

“Y-you saved me,” Sam gasps out, his fingers shakingly going to his throat,”Thank you.”

Dean’s hand reached out slowly, caressing the side of Sam’s face with his palm. The skin was warm, alive against his. "Dirt," He said quickly, dropping his hand as the latter caught his eyes and a blush rises to his cheek,”You had... something on your... face."

“Oh," Sam replied, a tired quirk in his lips.

Dean suddenly grimaces, dropping his hand to his side as shakes his head. “Shit,” He blinks rapidly, his breath becoming quickened. Black began to press in from the corners of his vision, and with a gasp, everything goes dark.

“Dean... Dean? Dean, are you okay?” Sam exclaims in concern, taking Dean’s face in his.

Dean glances up, his expression saying it all. “Sam,” He says softly, his lips parting in anticipation.

The two leaned forward simultaneously, their lips starting on a path to meet. Then they both froze as if neither of them knew how to move forward from that point. Whatever he’d had been expecting, he’d been surprised as hell, when the alpha snarled ‘fuck it’, and pushed up against him and kissed him. The psychic’s hands wasted absolutely no time in sliding their way up the latter’s torso, until his arms were firmly around his neck.

At first the kiss was gentle, and shiver inducing, then Dean shoved his tongue past Sam’s lips and plundered his mouth. He roughly tugged on the omega’s hair, keeping his head immobile, controlling the kiss and taking what he wanted. Sam was stunned for a moment and unresponsive as Dean rests his own body atop his. Then the alpha’s hands were running down his flanks, and shaping his hips within his hands.

The omega gasps as he feels those same hands wander down further, touching and feeling their way down his back and eventually settling on his ass, where they cup and squeeze the soft swell. The hunter chuckles deeply, his chest rumbling against the psychic’s as he further deepens the kiss, squeezing the two globes in his hand and none too gently massaging them in his grip.

“D-Dean, stop,” Sam gasps, forcefully pulling his lips away as he pants heavily,”Please, w-we need to slow down. Dean?”

Dean smirks grabbing Sam’s jaw in a bone crushing grip, running his thumb over his cheek. “Oh, Sammy,” He quirks his lips slightly, running his tongue over them as he blinks slowly. And when he opens his eyes again, his emerald hues are black as a coal pit,”I love this moment so much I want to have sex with it.”

“Brady,” Sam gasps staring into those ink well eyes, nearly getting lost in them.

“No, it’s Dean now,” The demon proclaims leaning close into the psychic’s face. Then his thumb is running over his wet, quivering lips and gently tracing the outline of the soft, plush flesh,”Poor guy, he was driving as fast as he could in that shitty car of his, and boy, oh boy, he was just determined he was going to be your knight in shining armor. I possessed him when he stopped to take a piss a few miles out from here. But, I decided to take a catch some z’s in his walnut, just until he found you.”

The psychic tries to turn away from the latter, and gasps out,”Y-you don’t have to do this. Please... just let him go. I promise I won’t try anything,” The thumb on his lips trails down, so that it’s gripping his chin and forcing him to face the demon,”Let him go...”

“That’s sweet. Really, it is. You know how I am with heart felt pleas,” Dean proclaims, quivering his lips and sniffling in a mocking manner,”But, I need him for insurance. You see, Sammy, you’re oddly determined to be a good guy, for a demon’s spawn. Which means you’re probably not going to be too open to what your old man has in store for you. I need this squirrel here, to keep you in check.”

“W-What do you mean? What’s that yellow-eyed bastard going to do with me..?”

“You won the game, Sammy-boy,” The demon lets out a huffing laugh, and purrs,“So, really, whatever the hell he wants. Or I’ll venture into pretty boy’s head and tear it apart, piece by fucking piece, until he’s drooling mess that pisses on his own feet in the shower -“

Sam leans forward and spits in the demon’s face, panting harshly as he snarls,”Don’t you dare touch him. Don’t even talk about it, you sick, twisted, son of a bitch!”

Dean wrenches his finger’s through the psychic’s thick, moist locks, silky brown strands catching between each digit. “I’m going to make this perfectly clear, Sammy. So, clear, that even you can see it,” He growls through bared teeth, giving his head a rough little shake,”If it wasn’t for daddy dearest, I’d be fucking you into the dirt right now. But, if you feel like pushing my buttons, by running that cute little mouth go yours, go ahead. I’ll just make sure something else occupies it.”

That makes Sam fall silent real quick. Dean smirks, licking his lips slowly, and allowing his fingers to release the strands curled in them. The psychic let’s out a cry of relief and hurriedly stands up, stumbling away from the demon. The demon cackles with dreadful glee, standing up to follow him.

“That’s what I thought, sweet cheeks,” The demon hisses, circling the latter as he attempts to distance himself,”Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

The psychic let’s out a trembling breath that he didn’t even know he was holding, and nods.

The demon smirks, and leans in close to him, so close that his lips brush the shell of his ear. “Go to sleep.”

Sam felt a sudden prick in his neck, and the next second his world started to turn blurry. He felt his body start to become numb and his vision wavered. "What…happen?" He slurred in fear and confusion, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He could vaguely make out the latter’s blurry form above him.

“Sleep,” Dean’s voice echoed eerily around the room before everything went dark.


May 31, 1999


Sam wakes up to a sudden brightness. Blinking his eyes, he tried to get use to the harsh light. He felt dizzy and disoriented, and his head pounded with the beginning of what felt like the beginnings of a migraine. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, except he couldn't move. With a jerk of his head he realized that his arms and legs were strapped to what appeared to be an upright lab table. Thick leather straps had him buckled firmly in place.

"What the hell?" The omega muttered, trying to tug his limbs free.

He scanned the room around him, and realized that he was in one of the many abandoned buildings in the ghost town. At least a dozen other people, or demons, were in the room, all going about their own business. An alpha was directly in front of him, a young man that smells of disinfectant and linen sheets, that’s rummaging through various tools that he’d only just noticed set out on a table beside him. There were many tools he’d never seen before, and some he had.

Sam’s eyes flickered to the other side of the room, settling on one unconscious figure that was unceremoniously dumped onto a wooden table and hogtied. “Dean,” He exclaims in panic, trying futilely to twist out of his restraints,”Dean!”

"Ah, you're awake," A voice said from the shadows of the room. Abruptly, all of the hustle and the bustle stopped, as veryone turned to the owner of the voice.

“Please, please, let him go,” The omega pleads, craning his head in his unconscious friend’s direction,”You have me! And I have no chance of escaping, j-just please...”

Azazel emerges from the shadows, his piss-yellow eyes narrowed. “I would let him go, sport,” He sighs loudly and begins to saunter towards him,”But, I’m not in the mood for you to put up a struggle. I want this to go smoothly, so he’s here to keep you on your best behavior.

“But don’t worry.”

Sam cranes his neck to his left side as best as he can and nearly comes face to face with Brady.

“I’ve already vacated the premises,” Brady finishes, crossing his arms over his chest,”But, if you so much as step a pinkie toe out of line, daddy dearest is going to let me go to town in his meatsuit.”

The omega tried to suppress a shiver as he slowly nods. “Okay,” He chokes out,”I-I won’t do anything, just... Don’t hurt him.”

Almost as if on cue, Dean’s eyes slowly open like cold molasses. He attempts to stretch, before realizing that’s he’s hogtied, and he groans aloud,”What the hell,” Panting loudly, he struggles against the taut ropes, until he glances up,”Sam!”

Sam grunts, and pulls against the straps, exclaiming,”Dean!”

“I know how this must pain you both,” Azazel says softly as he closens towards Sam,”Seeing the person you care for, and knowing that they will no doubt be in a world of pain, very, very, soon. Almost as painful as being head over heels for an individual that is the very thing that you fear.”

Sam flinches at that, avoiding Dean’s eyes as he turns his head. “Stop, just stop,” He whispers.

Dean growls, and thrusts up against his bonds, almost tumbling off the table. “Shut your damn mouth! You’re a demon, a parasite, that doesn’t have an inkling of what any human feels,” Breathing harshly he spits out,”You haven’t been human for a long time. You know a fucking thing!”

Azazel doesn’t respond, he merely gives him a tight-lipped smile, before turning to the demon that’s adjusting tools on the table. “Tom,” He states,”Get on with the ritual. Meg has already cornered the two old goats, they’ve retrieved the colt.”

“All the pieces are coming together,” Brady praises,”Soon, the gates will be open, and your champion will have his army.”

The demon, Tom, nods his head and turns back to the table laid out with instruments, picking up a long bronze skewer with a little ring at the end. Without another word, he presses it against the area just above the psychic’s navel and pushes it in.

Sam tosses his head back and cries out. He grits his teeth, and presses his chin against his chest, attempting to bite back his cries of pain.

“Sammy!” Dean roars banging his tied up fists against the table,”Stop it! Stop it! What the fuck are you doing -“

“You’ve been burdened by fear of your powers for far too long,” Azazel whispers, nodding at Tom to continue as he picks up another skewer,”But, don’t worry. I’m going to lift that burden...”

Sam screams as the skewer plunges through his stomach, and pushes through with little droplets of blood following. He lets out a shuddering breath as his vision begins to blur with tears.

Azazel walks over, and swipes his thumb under his eyes, brushing away the fresh tears. “It’ll all be over soon. Once you’ve let go,” He tucks his hands back behind his back, and continues,”You’ll lead my army as you were destined to. And when the time comes, you’ll be his vessel.”

“V-vessel...?” The omega chokes out.

The demon simply says,”It’ll all make sense, some day. You’ll understand...” He nodded towards the other demon, and another skewer was picked up.

Sam forced himself to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't look at him, couldn't look at the monster that was trying to turn him into something he’s not. And he couldn't look at himself either. He knew if he saw what was happening, he would throw up or pass out cold.

“It’s intresting, just how disgustingly human you are,” Tom comments, talking as normally as one would talk at a breakfast table.

Sam made the mistake of rolling his head to the side to look at his demon. Dark red blood coated the demon’s hands and splattered against his casual clothes. The psychic blanched and forced himself to quickly look away.

“Damn it! Damn it,” Dean roars, rolling off of the table with his futile efforts to escape. He lands on the wooden boards below with a ‘thud’,”Sammy!”

“Quiet him,” Azazel commands Brady, who promptly waltzes over and kicks him in the stomach.

Winded, Dean croaks out,”S-Sammy...”

At this point, Tom has placed five skewers, and only has one left on his tray. He grabs the final one by the ring, and presses it against the trembling flesh of the psychic’s throat as he whimpers softly.

“N-no, no, please,” Dean groans, rolling to his side to look at Sam,”S-Sam... Please, don’t - SAMMY!

Sam gags as the skewer goes through his throat, and he can only stare dead ahead, wide eyed like a fish out of water as his mouth opens and closes. Tears trickle down his cheeks as blood begins to pool in his mouth, surging up from the back of his throat.

“Tom,” Azazel presses.

Psychically, Sam beseeches Dean, meeting his pleading eyes,’I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. T-tell my dad I love him.’

‘No,’ Dean screams internally, shaking his head,’You’ll tell him yourself. You’ve gotta make it, Sammy. Please, please, just hold on - Our dad’s, they followed me here... They could be here any second -‘

‘Dean,’ Sam presses, his eyes going soft,’It’s okay. It’s okay.’

‘No, no, it’s not,’ Dean shakes his head frantically,’It’s not okay. I want to have time with you. I want to t-try and be something... more with you, without shame or regret - Fuck, I-I can’t even begin tell you how I feel...’

‘You don’t have to say anything. I know,’ Sam nods as tears slid down his cheek.

Sam suddenly felt very dizzy and very…light, like he was no longer attached to his body. What little feeling he had left in his body disappeared, and his vision started to waver.

Tom begins to chant, his voice starting to fade away,”In nomine magni, dei nostri Satanas...”




Sam bolted awake, his body coated in a cold sweat and his heart racing wildly in his chest. He was in his room, in his bed, safe and sound. It had only been a horrific, far too realistic nightmare after all. Forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths, he shakily got to his feet and tried to shake the fragments of the nightmare from his mind.

Glancing at his bedside clock, the omega realized that he had slept-in longer than he usually did. The bright red digits read 7:04 am. Trying to regain some composure, he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was eerily empty, since his dad was usually bustling about, answering phones and taking notes.

“Dad?” The psychic yells, walking about the kitchen. He turns around, nearly colliding with the seasoned hunter with a yelp.

Bobby stares straight at him, his features not even twitching following the near collision. “He’s waiting for you, in the living room,” He states, slowly raising his arm to point towards the doorway.

Sam frowns slightly, but doesn’t question further. He simply follows the pointed finger into the darkened living room. A figure is sitting on the old leather couch, but they’re bathed in shadows so that he can’t see them. The omega takes a step closer, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet as the shadows seemingly warble before his eyes.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you buddy. Not sure you could handle me,” A voice purrs from the darkness, honeyed and proud.

The psychic blinks slowly, and takes a cautious step back. “What do you want?” He questions.

“...Just let go.”

Sam Winchester let out the breath he was again holding despite him not wanting to, as a mild whining gasp. “What?” He gasps out.

“Let... go,” The voice echoes across the throes of the large building, making cold pricks run down Sam’s spine.

An expansion of light, pure and untainted by the travesties of man rose from the couch, shushing Sam in soothing tones, cold air wafted across his nose with every breath. And the light pushed at Sam's eyelids, making them burn as they fell closed. The thing’s face made the omega wish he could go blind and insane, but the thing would never let him. It hurt, all the way down to his soul, he could feel the thing there. But it was sublime. Beautiful beyond words.

”Be strong,” The voice hisses, bright tendrils of light raveling around Sam, ”This is my true form, and you’re the only one that has any hope of seeing it and living. Just look.”

Sam gasped in terror, ”What are you?”

But the mass of energy didn't answer right away, instead, it reached out, a tendril along Sam's cheekbones, back and forth until his tears were gone. It ran another tendril gently down and up Sam's hair, the cold dipping running through each strand' until he relaxed, leaning into the thing.

”I am the voice calling you away from the weakness that stifles your true potential,” The mass leans closer to Sam’s face, the air around it cold against his ear, ”Now leave it behind. Leave them behind. It is humanity’s true nature to fail at every turn. So, just... let go.” 

Sam shakes his head, shivering, as he murmurs,”No, no, I can’t. I won’t let go,” He straightens up, pushing away from the freezing expanse of light,”I won’t let you turn me into something I’m not. Something...”

“Evil?” If the thing had lips, it’d be smirking as it hisses,”You’re afraid of your own because you think it makes you bad. Evil. A word created a very long time ago by humans with very little minds. They can’t begin to comprehend what you are, what you can be... If you stopped being afraid and just let go.” 

“I-I can’t,” The omega whispers, closing his eyes.

The thing sighs, almost annoyed. “You can, Sam. You just won’t because humanity’s fear of the unknown is like a dead weight on your back - A burden,” He speaks again, the cold wisps reaching out towards the psychic,”Let go. Cast the weight off your back! Be unburdened at last!”

“I let go once,” Sam chokes out, trying to avoid the extending tendrils as he walks backwards,”...never again.”

“Oh, Sam,” The thing voices,”Still, so, so, disgustingly human... You feel like you don't fit in among them, the humans. You don't. Even when you tried to save them... they feared you, loathed you...”

There was an impact in the air, thunder with no sound. The demon let out a final pathetic wall before his entire body illuminated a sickly orange and he went limp, his body free falling from the ceiling. With a stomach lurching crunch his vessel smacked to the concrete and broke like an egg on impact. But instead of yolk, it was blood that’s splashed over both of them.

Dean nearly vomits right then and there as he shakily wipes the blood from his face, scrubbing it with the sleeve of his jacket. “S-Sam...” He manages to choke out, his gaze falling on the boy.

”I… I don’t remember that... Why don’t I...” Sam flinched and chokes out,”Why...”

“Your dear old dad, he erased your memories of the night you let go for the first time because he was afraid of what you’d do with your new found power,” The thing explains, its voice oozing false sympathy,”They fear you, Sam. They all fear you because what humans don’t understand...”

The omega stubbornly shakes his head and growls,”They’re right to be afraid of me. If what you’ve shown me is true, then I am something to be feared...”

”You’ll defend them to the last word, won’t you,” It purrs, a tendril gliding up and down Sam’s eyelashes,”The time has come at last to open your eyes to the truth.”

“What are you going to do to me—“

”I pose no threat to you. I am here to guide you, to uncover your eyes and show you the true menace that lurks in the darkest shadows of your life and reveal to you where your ultimate salvation lies. And where better to start, Sam, than the beginning, the beginning of the lies,” A tendril ran up from his eyelashes to his forehead, pressing into his skull like an ice pick.

Sam screamed. The thing showed him much, too much.

The man glances up, his eyes glaring yellow like jaundice, in the dark room. “He’s perfect,” He finally utters, Running a hand across the infant’s head of unruly brown hair. The baby food again, still lapping up the remnants of blood from his little magenta lips,”You’ve... done well. Better then I expected you, too.”

“A-anything for you,” The woman declares, splaying her fingers across her throat.

“What is his name,” The man holds out a pinkie to the infant, and his lips quirk ever so slightly when he grabs it and easily crushes it with his grip.

“Sam. His name is Sam,” The woman answers, taking a tentative step closer to him.

The man leans down, gently tugging his finger from the infant’s grip. “You’ll be the strongest of them, Sam,” He holds his wrist to the infant, satisfied when he begins to suckle at it. 


The memory changes.


“You just made these decisions, and you messed around with people’s heads, with their memories… what if you’d got something wrong? You could have turned them into drooling invalids!”

“I wouldn’t get it wrong, it’s not how it works--”

“You’re a freak,” She snarls, slowly backing away,” A damn freak. Tell your daddy to lose my number. I don’t want to have to set a damn foot near you ever again.”


The memory changes.


Brady looked ill, and Sam felt his heart sink. Was it really so repulsive, what he could do? The hunter shook his head, like he was trying to work the feelings loose, brush them off. “God! N-never again...”

“B-Brady... p-please...”

“No! F-freak,” Brady chokes out, standing up abruptly from the bed,” Damn it. Sam, I didn’t mean it – Sam!”


The memory changes


“H-how long have you been possessing him?” Sam stutters.

“For quite a while now. A few months maybe,” Brady says squeezing his thigh, laughing so hard that his head goes back,” Aw, that’s fucking adorable. You were hoping that maybe, just maybe, all those cruel words he spat at you weren’t his own. That he had a little demon on his shoulder telling him to verbally tear you to pieces. No, Sam… that was all chicken-shit Tyson Brady.”


The memory changes.


“No, Sam. Just. Just let me…” The blatant answer actually made Sam flinch. Dean puts a hand over his face and takes a deep breath, “Sam, I’m sorry. But I can’t let you in. I can’t stand…” He trails off.

Immediately Dean’s eyes fill with regret, but he goes completely silent. The omega bows his head slightly, staring at the hands settled on his lap. He flinched again when he felt one of the latter’s hands settle on his, a gentle, reassuring presence. He quickly pulls his hand away, as if burned, and keeps his head bowed.


The memory changes.


“…You killed them?” Dean sounds hesitant, doubtful.

Sam gulps thickly, and quickly says,”It doesn’t matter. The point is after that I was done with hunting. That night has a hold over me I may never be able to shake, and it doesn’t matter that these people were possessed. They were still people; trapped, innocent people, and I killed them to save myself. It’s my burden to bear.”


The memory changes.


“D-Dean,” Sam whimpers softly,”Please, let him go.”

“Why? You do know that he’s afraid of you, right? Terrified, even,” Max scoffs.


The memory changes.


“His eyes are yellow,” Dean’s finishes and his eyes widen at the realization,”That’s his son, that’s the son of the bastard that killed my mother -“

“He killed his mother, too!”

“You knew,” Dean seethes, stomping over with the knife raised until he was a mere foot away,”You knew what he was, but you still let him live - You still let him grow i-into this! This thing, this monster!”

Humans in their worst; hairless apes, the tainted ones, the most flawed, murderous of all the Lord’s creations—Only the thing, Lucifer, the light bringer, the Morningstar, could see them for what they are.

“Oh yes, Sammy. Do you begin to see? The broken promises, empty words? The deeds of the lowly vermin,” Lucifer asserts, all of its tendrils running over Sam’s body as it pulsed gently,”Do you see reality now. Sam—the true monster behind the lies? The pathetic vermin who would have you perish through weakness and uncertainty?”


”Then you are ready at last,” And Sam could feel himself grow warmer as the light slowly started to dissipate. Then, a voice in the wind,”...Break free... Unleash your power... No fear.”

Sam took a shaking breath, his fingers clenching into fists at his side. “Never again,” He vows as a single tear goes down his cheek. 

Chapter Text

May 30, 1999

Dean watches with horror as Tom continues to chant around Sam’s unconscious body, adjusting each of the skewers as he does so. The unconscious omega, moans and mutters under his breath, rolling his head to the side against the bonds. His body suddenly begins to tremble and his breath quickens.

“Don’t worry, perfectly normal,” Tom assures,”He’s struggling in there. Trying to fight against him. Quite foolish of him.”

“Very,” Azazel agrees.

Another demon he assumes walks into the room, wearing the meatsuit of a young woman with a blonde pixie cut. She smirks and states,”I have it, but I’ve also brought guests,” She curls her hand into a fist and abruptly, two all too familiar figures come flying through the doorway,”I didn’t think you’d want me to waste too perfectly good meatsuits. Especially ones with such intimate knowledge of the hunting community.”

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that...” Azazel trails off dramatically, his lips curling into a sneer,”It is! John Winchester, the poor sap who’s wife I cooked extra crispy.”

“Bastard,” John snarls, attempting to stand. 

Azazel sighs,”It’s a shame what happened to her, Johnny. I actually quite liked her, she had spunk,” The demon makes a motion with his hand and sends the seasoned hunter flying back into the wall. His head hits it with a crunch, and he slumps, unconscious.

“Dad! Dad,” Dean barks in alarm,”No, no, no...” Then he hears a soft moan as his dad’s body twitches slightly, and he attempts to get up again. 

Azazel turns to Bobby, and utters,”And you, Bobby Singer. The man who raised my boy,” He laughs coldly,”I guess this is kinda awkward, isn’t it?”

Bobby scoffs and growls,”He’s not your boy. He never was.” 

John looks back and forth between the two of them, confusion coloring his features. “What the hell is he talking about, Bobby?” He inquires, but his fellow hunter just shoots him a look that says ‘later’.

“He is by blood,” Azazel reminds him, his voice growing irritated.

“Family don’t end with blood. I held him when he cried, I fed him when he was hungry, I tucked him into bed when he could barely hold his damn eyes open,” Bobby snarls, his eyes narrowed dangerously,”I was there for him his entire life, while you watched from the shadows. He’s my boy, damn it!”

Azazel’s lips twitch into a smile as he admits,”I may have been a bit of an absentee father, but soon, he’ll be ready to take up the family business. He’ll be by my side as the world falls down.” 

Brady steps beside John, gives him a kick in the face to be a dick, and extracts something from his pocket. “I believe you’ll be needing this,” He says handing something to the yellow eyed demon, bowing his head slightly. 

“Kiss ass,” Meg hisses. 

“Cunt,” Brady retorts.

“Always squabbling for father’s love,” The yellow-eyed demon sighs, holding what was handed to him up for examination. It was a revolver that had most of the finish missing, giving it an aged appearance, plus a carving of a pentagram decorated its handle,”The inscription reads ’non timebo mala’ which means ‘I will fear no evil’. Tell me, just where in the hell did you find it -“ 

John opens his mouth, probably to tell him to shove it, but Meg interupts,”Daniel Elkins, a hunting buddy of theirs.” 

“Fascinating,” Azazel comments, sliding the colt into his jacket pocket,”We’ll be needing this for later.”

Tom’s chants stop abruptly as Sam begins to shake violently again this bonds, his eyes still closed tightly as he breathes harshly. “...dei nostri Satanas,” The demon attempts to continue chanting.

“Sam? Sammy!” Dean screams.

Sam thrusts his head back and forth, banging it against the lab table as he grunts in pain. Then his lips part and he cries out, tossing his head back and forth as the room begins to steadily shake. The wooden floor boards creak and begin to rumble in their places, and the walls shake, dust raining down as the entire house wobbles and rocks.

“What is it, Tom?” Azazel growls, grabbing the demon by his shoulder.

Flinching, and backing away from the table, Tom admits,”I-I don’t know...” He glances to the side, and noticed his sister sneaking out the back,”Meg-“ 

Sam’s scream tore through his throat, like a great shard of glass. His hazel hues went wide with horror, his mouth rigid and open, his face gaunt and immobile. His fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails scratching against the metal table holding him upright. It went through everyone in the room like a thousand needles of ice, it echoed against the walls, through the ghost town, to the trees all around it, making them vibrate. All of the demons stumbled back a few paces. 

It made the hair strand straight up on the back of Dean’s neck. It was the loudest most piercing scream he had ever heard. “Sammy,” He cries out in alarm.

Sam takes a deep breath, and went deadly calm, the room falling silent with him. One could hear a needle drop on the creaky floor. A ring swirls around his eyes, a ring of yellow that surrounds his hazel hues. The area around his eyes eyes is blood red, like a rash of some sort had broken out around them. He barely tilts his head up, and all of the skewers imbedded in his body, go flying out with spurts of blood and thrust into the demon who’d put them there, pinning him against the wall.

Azazel smirks, and murmurs,”He’s finally let go.”

Sam slowly blinks, and one of the bonds holding his wrists, bursts free and he pushes his hand forward towards the demons scattered about the room. “Bring me Tyson Brady,” He commands, his voice like frigid water. Wind rushes into the room, and all of the demons’ eyes widen as the psychic’s power washes over them. 

Brady’s everpresent smirk melted right off his face. “A-Azazel, stop... Stop him! Now,” He exclaims in horror, but the latter makes no love to intervene.

Dean gapes in horror as the demons look at one another, taking in the command. “Sam,” He chokes out, going to his feet when his ropes all of a sudden snap and fall to the floor,”...Stop it, stop this...!”

Blades are drawn, fists are raised, and in seconds, all hell breaks loose. The demons surge forward against the one as the psychic looks on his expression stone cold, lifeless like a corpse’s. Then he tilts his head again, his mouth twitching, and growls lowly. The other demons had managed to pin down the one, and were now bringing him snarling and snapping like a rabid dog.

Sam turned a little, and calmly lifted a hand towards Brady. He was a dozen feet away. “Tell me, is your vessel still alive, Brady?” He questions softly.

“N-no,” Brady struggles to keep the truth from slipping past his own lips. A smile suddenly made its way across his lips as he says,”Very impressive, Sammy. You’ve finally let go, but now, I’m going to keep that little promise I made to you a little while ago. Now, bend over.”

Still deathly calm, Sam slowly rose his arms into the air, his fists to the sky. He rolled his head back. All of the bonds that held him against the lab table suddenly snapped and then he was slowly walking towards the demon. The air began to turn about him, dust rising at his passing.

Dean nearly choked with fear of what he was doing. He had seen this only once before, and it’d come to no good end. “Sam,” He pleads,”Reign it back in. Control it! Sam... Sammy!”

Sam either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. His face showed no emotion. “I see no need to preserve your vessel, seeing as its already dead,” He rests a hand on the demon’s chest and utters coolly,”I’m going to hurt you. But, when I do, I don’t want you to make a sound. Not one.”

Sam presses his palm against the demon’s neck, and drags it across. Dean watches in silence as little fluid filled welts rose on the demon’s vessel’s skin. When the omega pressed down a little harder, the welts filled with blood. The psychic splayed his fingers across his neck and blood began to weep from the tears in the demon’s vessel’s flesh. Then came the smell; a smell like burning flesh as the skin on the vessel began to sizzle like bacon on a frying pan.

“Look at me. I want to see it in your eyes,” Sam commands, placing his other hand on Brady’s stomach.

Brady glances up, silent tears of unthinkable agony trickling down his face as steam rose from his body. But, he didn’t make a sound, not even as his eyelids melted and dripped down his cheekbones like hot wax. The demons holding him had to move their hands away, inch by inch, as the body began to disintegrate under their grip. The three hunters present, learned for a fact that demons did die.

“I’ve never felt power like this before,” Sam states, his voice like a silent scream as he at last removes his hands. With graceful smoothness, he turns around and begins to walk towards the yellow eyed demon,”Seize him.

Azazel snarls as half a dozen demons swarm over him, like ants over discarded food in the grass. He smiles coldly and attempts to throw the lower demons off to the side. Only for the force of his powers to be cancelled out as a feeling of frigid water washes through his vessel’s veins. He glances up, only to see a pair of narrowed eyes glaring right at him. Three demons at either side of him grab his arms and pull them taut, slamming him on to his knees.  

“Well done, Sam,” Azazel praises, futilely struggling against the many demons keeping him in place,”You’ve come a long way from bending spoons. I’m proud of you...”

Sam cocks his head to the side. “I’ve done what you wanted. I let go,” The coldness of his voice sends a shiver down Dean’s spine.

“And still, you’ve barely stratched the surface,” The yellow eyed demon states, trying to push forward again,”I want to help you. Our time is coming soon, son. You and me, side by side, fighting the war that is to come... together.”

Dean goes towards him, one hand extended as he says,”Sammy...” He sets his hand on his shoulder squeezing it tightly.

Sam spins around, his hand lifted in the air as Dean goes flying across the room, and slams against the wall. The yellow in his eyes glints in the light as he inclines his head forward. Then he curls his fingers and watches, unflinching, as the latter begins to struggle to breath. 

“S-Sammy, s-s-stop...” Dean wheezes. His lungs feel like they’re being crushed in the latter’s grip, but he still manages to swallow another mouthful of air with much effort,”I’m not afraid of you. Look at me, Sammy. I’m not afraid...”

“You are,” The omega hisses, his hands beginning to shake,”You, all of you, will always be afraid of what you don’t understand... Always.” 

“No. No, I’m not,” The alpha says, panting,”I’m not afraid of you. The real you. The sweet, brave, selfless Sam, that I feel for. This isn’t you.”

‘Yes, it is,’ Lucifer hisses within the confines of his head,’You’ve just been trapped, alone, in the confines of a cage of your own making. But, now, at last, you’re free... You’ve let go. No fear.’

“...It’s too late,” The psychic whispers aloud,”They’ve won... This is me.”

“No. No it’s not,” Dean replies,”It’s not too late, damn it! Listen to me, Sam. I’m here, you’re not alone. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid!”

‘Lies. Listen to how the hairless ape spews lie after lie, to try and bring you back down to its level,’ Lucifer chuckles deeply and the cold increases,’It’s finished. You’re gone... You’re ours’ now.’

‘...No. You won’t win.’ 

Lucifer sounds genuinely curious as he questions,’And why’s that?’

Sam inhales deeply, feels shivers run down his spine as he replies,’Because you are alone. You’ve always been alone,’ He gulps and goes on,’I am... not.

“It’s okay, Sammy. I’m here. I’m here,” Dean chokes out as he begins to go limp, his eyes slowly closing,”N-not... afraid...”

Sam’s eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he freezes for a brief second. Then he shakes his head and blinks rapidly, struggling for breath. The omega tilts his head in the alpha’s direction, and breaks the ropes with a motion of his hand. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got it. I-I’m reigning it back in. Oh, God. I’m sorry,” The omega gasps out, gently lowering him to the ground, and running towards him. He runs his hands over his face, gripping his cheeks as he pulls him close,”I’m so sorry... Oh, God, I almost...”

The alpha shakes his head, and grips the hands touching his face. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” The alpha says in return,”You were right. I was afraid of you. I was terrified. But, I’m not, not anymore. I never will be, again.”

‘Stop apologizing for not being human,’ Lucifer groans in annoyance from within his head,’Don’t you see? It’s your humanity that makes you weak... That makes you like them.’ 

‘No,’ Sam objects,’It’s what makes me strong...’

Lucifer smiles at that, inclining his head to the side,’We’ll see. Until next time, Sammy.’ And just like that, he’s gone. Like snow melting underneath the warmth of the sun.

“Sam,” Azazel snarls,”What are you doing - “

“Be quiet,” Sam commands, silent thunder reverberating as he stands and Dean goes to his side,”And listen to me.”

Azazel’s lips press together against his will, and he stares wide eyed at the psychic. His breathing is harsh, angry as he attempts to break the psychic hold on himself to no avail.  

“All my life, different sides have been tugging me left and right, to fight for them,” Sam starts off, his lips a thin line. His scent is like cold and bitter mint, not the usual sweet,”Everyone is trying to make me something I’m not; into some kind of nuclear war head. That’s not what I am. I am not a weapon in someone’s damn war,” He takes a shaking breath, gulps heavily, before going on,”I’m done fighting. I won’t do it a damn second longer.” 

The omega takes a step back, and snaps his fingers. The demons explode in a crimson splash of organs and claret, swashing all over him. He tilts his chin upward slightly and the colt slides out of the yellow eyed demon’s pocket, into his hand.

“Sam,” Dean says softly, gripping his wrist. Sam turns to him, his lips parted ever so slightly as the colt hangs limply at his side.

Dean leaned up and tentatively pressed his lips against the omega’s. Sam’s heart stopped. The alpha’s hands instantly were cupping his face, pulling the omega into the kiss with restrained desire. But, almost as soon as the kiss had begun, it was over. The hunter stared at the psychic, confused, as they stared at one another, lips swollen, their faces an inch apart. The psychic’s chest heaved against his own as they both panted. 

As an answer, Sam simply shakes his head, glancing up at Dean. The yellow ring around his eyes dissipates, and he chokes out,”You won’t ever have to worry about me, again, I promise. I’m not going to take over the world, or whatever horseshit they were trying to make me do,” He gently pushes the latter away from him, and takes an unsteady step back. 

“Sam,” Bobby objects, standing,”Son, please...”

“No,” The omega states firmly,”I can’t, not anymore. They were right, about some things. I’ve been afraid of myself, of what I can do, for as long as I can remember. It’s time that I stop apologizing for not being human.”

The yellow eyed demon hisses,”No one will ever understand you, not the way I do. I can help you -“ 

“Maybe not,” The psychic admits, his expression neutral,”But, you are like the rest of them. You’ll try and turn me into something I’m not, too.”

“You’re making a huge mistake, choosing them over your own flesh and blood -“

Sam makes a fist, and Azazel gags violently, his body throwing itself forward as blood sprays from his lips. “You may have created me, but you are not my father. And I am not your son,” Sam turns to Bobby, his expression softening,”I already have a father.”

Bobby’s lips quirk ever so slightly at that. Sam then takes the colt and drops it on the floor, facing all three hunters. “Finish this,” He orders, and with that he turns on his heel and walks out the door. 

It’s raining outside, but Sam hardly notices as his worn tennis shoes squish in the muddy ground. The rain trickles down his messy, bloodied hair and down his face, leaving a light pink residue. He walked out of the ghost town, trying to ignore the scattered bodies of his brother’s and sisters, and down the road, then he kept on walking. He walked and walked, until he was nothing but a dot in the distance.






In the end, it was John that shot Azazel with the colt. Dean honestly couldn’t find it in himself to care whether the yellow eyed demon lived or died at this point. All in all, the end of the monster that had torn part their family, was a bit anticlimactic. A pull of a trigger, a deafening gunshot, and it was over.

Bobby had already retreated in his truck, knowing all too well that John would be seeking an explanation from him. One he couldn’t give for his son’s safety. Sam and Bobby, the unlikeliest of families, both stuck to their guns and did everything they could do in their power for the other. After all, family didn’t end with blood. 

Dean stayed with John, helped him build a gigantic pyre to salt and burn all of the bodies scattered about the ghost town. The town had enough bitter spirits. With starter fluid and salt scattered over the wooden bed, for the bodies were so fresh the corpses just looked like they were sleeping, he threw the lighter. Eventually the ferocious flames of the fire died down and only the glimmering embers were left, shrouded in ash.

The light drizzle had abruptly turned into a downpour. Finally, after hours of tense silence, John spoke loudly over the pouring rain,”It’s not over yet.”

Dean tears his gaze away from the dampened pile of charred wood, and furrows his brow at the statement. “What do you mean,” He asks, fearing the answer. 

“Sam,” John answers plainly, droplets running over his wrinkled face as he frowns deeply.

Dean smiles mirthlessly, and he shakes his head, feels the rain run down his neck. “You still can’t let it go, can you?” He inquires, his voice choking up,”You can’t let him go? Dad, he saved us! He practically handed us the bastard on the platter!”

“I know,” The seasoned hunter growls,”But, you saw what he did. You saw what he can do! What happens if he changes his mind, huh?”

“He won’t,” The hunter spits, his scent becoming like the smoldering pyre before him,”I know him. He wants a normal life, okay? He wants, more than anything in this world, to get away from all of this!”

“I can’t take that chance -“

 Dean’s voice takes on a scathing tone as he exclaims,”It’s over for fuck’s sake, you stubborn bastard! It’s done,” His mouth is twisted in a sneer as he goes on,”But, you won’t let it go, will you? Because you don’t know how to! You don’t know how to go on now that there isn’t some grandiose mission to keep you going!” 

“You’ll show me some respect, boy -“

“No, I won’t,” The hunter replies coldly,”I won’t respect a man that would go after a boy just because of what he’s scared he may do, rather than what he’s done.”

John’s posture stiffens as he takes in the latter’s words. “So, that’s it then?” He inquires shakily,”You’re just done? Just like that!”

Dean turns around, sticks his hands in his jacket’s pockets, and begins his muddy march towards the car. “Oh, by the way, I’m keeping the damn car. You gave it to me, and well, no one likes an Indian giver,” He states, jingling the keys as he heads in the direction of the car.

“If you walk away, don’t you ever come back! You hear me, boy? Ever!” John screams in rage as the rain pours on, nearly drowning out his objections,”You stay gone!”

Dean opens his car door, slides in and sits in the seat for a second, contemplating what he’s just done. Next to him, on the passenger side of the car, there’s a backpack on its side. Sam’s backpack. The alpha cautiously picks it up, and settles it in his lap, before nosing through its contents. It was what one would expect; neatly folded clothes that he’d lent him, various books of lore, a pack of gum, and a bunch of receipts.

Dean lifted one shirt from the bottom, the plain white shirt Sam had been wearing when they’d first met, and he pressed it to his nose. The smell of pine and sweet spearmint tickled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. He dropped the shirt on his lap, watches it as wet spots rise on the fabric, and leaned back in his seat, staring at the roof of the car. 

Then, the alpha put the keys in the ignition and drove away. He refused to look back. He couldn’t, not if he ever wanted to move on. That’s what he had to do, if he ever truly wanted to break free from his father.

The longer the hunter drove, the worse the damned storm got. Lightning lit the skies in brilliant streaks. Rain hammered all around him, an impenetrable salvo of bullets. His windshield wipers were at maximum power, going so fast to clear his view it made his eyes hurt. A brave or foolish soul was on the side of the road, sitting cross legged with their arms crossed over their chest as they attempted to shield their body from the onslaught. He watched the person with a sense of worry.

Dean’s brakes screeched as he went skidding to a halt as he got a good look at the person. He was out of the car and running to where he saw him, faster than a kid chasing an ice cream truck. Dean grabbed a shivering Sam by the shoulders and led him to the car, trying his best to shield him from the sweeping rain. 

“What the hell are you doing out in a storm like that?" Dean admonished as he slammed the car door shut against the screaming wind. 

"Y-you're one t-t-to talk," Sam shivered, and large hazel eyes gazed up at him.

The alpha ignored the comment and turned the heaters onto full blast. The omega held his hands out to it, rubbing them together to try and coax some warmth back into them.

The hunter takes a deep breath, and exhales through his nostrils. “You ran out of there without even letting me squeeze a word in,” He says bitterly. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” The psychic states, avoiding the latter’s gaze,”I-I just... I knew if anyone could talk me out of it... i-it’d be you.” 

“And what’s ‘it’?” 

“I was gonna go away for a while,” Sam states simply,”Use what little of my summertime I have left, to try and find the people that survived this shit storm.”

Dean mutely shakes his head. “Sam, I don’t know how to tell you this,” He gulps heavily, and explains,”Ash found you because of the unusual amount of demon activity in the area around Cold Oak, but he found another anomaly. Almost simultaneously, the few remaining psyhcics that weren’t taken out by Gordon or lifted by Brady, were just fucking... gone. Ash and Ellen gathered some of the few hunters that were available to check it out, and they found nothing. Just some empty houses without so much as a note.”

“So, that’s it? T-they’re just gone,” The omega gasps out in disbelief,”No, no, they can’t just... Oh, God. Oh, fuck...” He rests his hands over his mouth as he struggles to breathe.

The alpha was about to speak, but paused as he saw the agony in the omega’s eyes, pain that he was trying so futilely to withhold. He looked close to breaking now, and he saw his throat hitching with silent sobs. 

“You’re not alone,” Dean states at last, yet he could not bring himself to look at him,”Sam, you’re not alone. I’m not gonna leave you... I’m not afraid.”

“Don’t...” Sam trails off, turning to glare at his door. His scent darkens with the smell of burning toast,”I-I get why you said it before, Dean, you were desperate and afraid... Just, please, don’t say things that you don’t mean.”

The alpha grabbed the omega’s wrist in a near brushing grip, and his words hisssed out like a tea kettle,”Sam,” He starts,”I meant every single damn word I said before. I need you to see that, to understand that... I’m not afraid of you anymore. I will never be afraid of you again.”

“You don’t mean that,” The psychic whispers pathetically. 

“I do,” The hunter stresses,”Fuck, Sammy, I do. If you don’t believe me, then read my mind. Just look, and see for yourself.”

Sam’s eyes flash up at that. “You wouldn’t let me before.”

“I’m letting you now.”

The omega closes his eyes, raises his fingers to his temple. and pushes into the latter’s mind. He’s surprised at the ease in which he enters. When he does, all he sees is memory after memory of the two of them, all bleeding together until they all blur together. But one sticks out among the rest, and he feels the alpha pushing it forward within the confines of his mind. 

Silas coughs and shakes his head,”I j-just pray that y-you know better now. T-that you don’t judge s-someone one b-by what y-you’re a-afraid they’ll do, rather t-than what t-they’ve done.” 

Dean shakes his head, gripping his jawline as he chokes out,”I-I can’t. Y-you shouldn’t have shown me, damn it... I’m not strong enough to -“

“Y-You are,” The psychic insists,”I-I’ve seen it in you, young man. You’re not like your father. You can be different from him, better then him, but o-only if you choose to be. And I know you’ve seen that S-Sam S-Singer is anything, b-but a monster... h-he just needs you t-there to remind him...” He extends his fingers to his temple, coughs a final time and his head starts to teeter off to the side. His fingers feel gracelessly to the floor, rapping against the hard wood below.

S-Silas? Silas. Silas. Silas!” Dean exclaims, slotting his fingers against the old man’s neck to check for a pulse. Nothing.

The alpha groans when all of a sudden his head begins to throb, and he closes his eyes at the abrupt pain. Under the darkness of his eyelids, a movie begins to play in his vision. The hunter sees the young psychic with his eyes of hazel and honey, peaking up from the curtain of his bangs. The curve of his bubblegum pink lips as he tries to choke back laughter. His enthralling scent that sang ‘omega’ in notes of spearmint and pine. Looking back, it was probably love at first sight, but he was too shrouded in his father’s shadow to see it then.

Sam opens his eyes, his fingers falling from his temple onto his lap as he slowly cocks his head to the side. “D-Dean..?”

Sam refuses to look away, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders heaved with emotion, unwilling to back down. His dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears; his hands clenched into shaking fists and a lone tear traced down his cheek. Dean scoots closer to him, until their knees are touching. Sam’s eyes widen in surprise, and more tears escape.

"Sammy," Dean sighed, but there were no words he could say that could express all the emotions he was feeling right then. Without bothering to ask for permission, he grabbed him by his waist and kissed him. 

The alpha kissed the omega and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. The hunter’s hand rested below his ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. The psychic ran his fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and he could feel the beating of the hunter’s heart against his chest. 

Dean’s lips parted slightly as he looked at him with a heat in his eyes that made Sam’s lower body stir with emotion. The omega gave him a look, practically begging with his eyes; a heavy musk highlighted with that same sharp spearmint and a thin layer of sweet filled the small space. The alpha’s eyes tightened and the omega could see conflict flicker through them, as if he was fighting some internal battle.

Sam reached a tentative arm out, gripping his knee. Dean closed his eyes. "S-Sammy," He whispered in a strained voice as he inhales deeply. He pressed a hesitant, chaste kiss at the side of his neck, right at the base where his neck connected to his shoulder. His scent, his taste was intoxicating.

"Dean," Sam breathed softly, gently sweeping his arm from his lap. The alpha offered no resistance as the omega tentatively pushed himself up onto his lap. The storm outside shook the car, rain pelting the glass as he clings onto him.

The alpha’s body was tense and his hands were fists. Looking down, the omega could see the tent of his desire that he had been hiding. The psychic ran his hand up his clothed stomach, feeling the contour of his solid muscles. The hunter’s breathing halted sharply, but he still didn't make a move to return or deny the affection.

“D-Do you want this...?” Dean questions, his voice hitching as the latter’s hand halts on the space between his muscled chest.

“Yes,” Sam murmured, his free hand caressing Dean’s jaw.

Dean’s eyes shot open and he caught his hand. Sam gazed into his piercing green eyes, seeing an intensity that rocked him to his core. "Damn it, Sammy," Dean cursed, before leaning up and crashing his lips into his.

Dean was forceful, this time, his impatient lips assailing Sam’s own. Sam opened his mouth under his and let him in as Dean leaned forward and his body slammed Sam’s into the seat. The omega’s legs instinctively spread for him, his damp shirt riding up and exposing his toned stomach. The alpha shifted his weight and placed himself between them, his hips pressing down into the omega’s quickly hardening member.

Sam’s right hand buried itself in Dean’s messy, moist hair while his left found the neck of his shirt, annoyingly still clothed. He moaned a loud sound of frustration while pulling at it. The omega barely felt his lips leave his own before he felt the wonderful heat of the alpha’s skin against his own. The psychic suddenly noticed his shirt was gone as well, and his fingertips sunk into the hunter’s chest as he tried to pull him closer. 

Dean’s hand greedily moved up the latter’s body until he found Sam’s hardened nipples. Unable to contain his anticipation, Sam moaned longingly into the kiss. The omega hissed as the alpha kneaded his pecs, finding his nipple between two fingers. The psychic’s hiss melts into a pleasured groan as the hunter’s pressure on his nipple shot pleasure through my body. The psychic slowly started rolling my hips into him as his desire got out of control, and he received a groan from the hunter in response.

“Sammy... if we keep this going, you're gonna to have to tell me to stop, okay? Because I won't,” Dean chokes out, his voice jagged and his breath quick, sounding like he was trying futilely to reign himself in.

Sam met his eyes with hardened resolve, "I-I don’t want you to stop, Dean. I-I w-want this... W-want you,” Sam’s face flushed bright in embarrassment and he buried his face in Dean’s shoulder,”Please, please, just...”

That was all Dean needed to hear. Dean leaned down to catch one of his nipples in his mouth, and Sam’s breath hitched as he felt his moist, plush lips wrap around the hardened flesh. His other hand found the other neglected nub, squeezing and massaging it. The alpha suddenly slid a hand down the back of the omega’s wet pants, his other hand restoring them to his ankles. The hunter continued his exploration, a finger circling around his hole, the source of his wet heat. It twitched and opened at his touch.

Sam’s breath hitched as he shook against Dean, like a sapling in a storm, and then he inhaled sharply, arching his back as Dean pushed two fingers inside. They slid in so easily, and so Dean abandoned his pecs, and immediately added a third finger. The alpha pulls his hand back, his fingers are glistening with the omega’s slick, the sweet, heady scent of omega fertility filling the heated car.

That's when Sam really and truly looked at Dean. That perfect, sculpted body of the alpha hovering over the omega’s, the mass within his jeans, his plush lips glistening, his muscles rippling down his taught arms. The hunter suddenly grabbed the buckle of his belt and undid it painfully slow, as he slid it out and threw it the floorboard of the car. In seconds his boxers and jeans were haphazardly thrown to the backseat, and he was enveloping the psychic’s body with his own, once more.

Sam bites his lip as he chokes out,”I’ve wanted you so bad.”

Dean returned his fingers into Sam’s damp heat, and he started pumping them in and out, his motions driving him over the edge. Sam couldn't help but flex his narrow hips into him with each movement. The alpha’s fingers slid easily in and out of the omega, his heat slick with desire. As his fingers slipped in and out of the psychic’s wetness, he thought about how amazing the hunter was going to feel inside of him. He looked up and his emerald eyes were on him, peering down with a desire to satisfy.

“C-can I look into your mind,” Sam pants, his hazel hues wide with desire.


“When a person makes love, you drop every defense, and to a telepath it’s all mirrors: reflecting each other's feelings deeper and deeper…until, somewhere along the line, your souls mix. And it's a feeling so profound it makes you hurt. It's the only moment in a telepath's life when you no longer hear the voices,” The omega explains softly, his lips trembling as his breathing quickens.

The alpha hesitantly nods, and whispers,”Okay.”



The blunt head of Dean’s member soon pressed against him and Sam opened up, giving soft little cries as his member penetrated him. It’s a dull ache for the omega, the fullness slowly sliding up into him. The alpha tries to start off slow, let his omega get used to the new sensation. The hunter moaned lowly against his neck as he drove his cock in and out of his hole. It tightened and gripped around him. Slick dripping warm and wet between them.

The car creaked beneath them as thrust after thrust pushed Sam against the leather seats and rocked the entire space. Dean braced a hand against the window, smearing his hand print into the fogged glass to stop himself being crushing against Sam. Abruptly the alpha shifted on top of him, not halting his thrusts, and seizes a hand around the omega’s neglected member. The psychic gasped in surprise as he was unable to do anything as his head flung back and he came after only a few rough jerks.

Dean was so close as his fingers dug into Sam’s hips and drove himself into him harder, deeper, faster. Even as his knot grew painfully, a gentle warning to slow his pace, the alpha didn’t want to slow down. But, eventually his knot grew bigger and locked itself in the depths of his omega’s tight heat.

Soft, magenta lips that were swollen and moist with saliva dropped open and a low moan escaped them. Sam’s unruly, tangled mess of chestnut strands clung to a sweat soaked forehead and Dean kissed him deeply, passionately as he sucked a bite into his neck. Then his teeth sunk into the warm, tender flesh; marking the omega as his, binding them in an unbreakable pact until death did them part. Copper flowed into his mouth, and the cry of pain that followed rattled him to his core. 

Sam sobbed softly, wrapped his arms around Dean. “Oh, God... Oh, God,” He whimpers, sniffling.

Dean shushes him gently, his thrusts slowing to the tiniest of movements. He can’t even manage another ten seconds before his hips stutter and he cums, flooding inside his omega. The alpha slumped against the omega, his chest heaving as he waited to regain his breathe. Still knotted, he turns them both onto their sides, spooning his exhausted, tuckered out new mate. The psychic trembled against him, his breathing heavy and erratic, as he entangles his fingers with the latter’s and held them to his stomach. 

It was still storming outside. Dean lazily flickered his gaze towards the windshield, and watched the rain continue to pour outside. Sam hummed softly as he ran his slender fingers up and down Dean’s palm. The alpha hadn’t even noticed that the radio was on, and he silently listened as his mate hummed along to Queen’s “I Want To Break Free”.

“What did you see, when you looked into my mind?” Dean questions, curious.

“You,” Sam answers simply, a tired smile on his lips,”Just you.”

Sam could have sworn he could hear his heart trying to beat wildly out of his chest as Dean twisted his head to kiss him. It was the most heartbreakingly slow kiss, as if all of their feelings were being conveyed to one another in this one moment. 

They loved one another, loved each other as every true mate did. But, they didn’t voice it aloud because love, in reality, bites. No, they had something to was better, stronger, than love. They were psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent, and this bond was built through pain and fear, shared experiences that would keep them up, night after night, for years to come. 


So baby can't you see

I’ve got to break free

Ive got to break free

I want to break free, yeah

I want, I want, I want

I want to break free 


Sam was finally free.