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Caribbean Wonderland

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Gentle music swirls through the room, settling Dean’s nerves.  The wooden stool under him creaks as he sways slightly to the sound, his fingers playing over the aged guitar.  The song is one he’s heard since the cradle.  Dean’s not a praying kind of man, but the chorus pours from his lips like a soft request to the Almighty above.  Singing has always been a type of religious experience for him, allowing the man to feel closer to the woman who not only taught him how to play but gave him life itself.  In the years they spent together Dean and his mother shared so much, including their omega status.  She always wanted him to be proud regardless of what the world saw. Dad was a silent, brutish alpha, although sometimes saying nothing speaks volumes.   

The soft morning light streams through the blinds, battered from years of use. Dean’s fingers moving on memory alone as his eyes remain closed.  His bedroom is a special sanctuary for Dean, permitting him the space to forget his troubles.  The random rock band posters on the pale white walls are his sole audience.  Dean’s voice follows the ever-flowing notes, sewing the two sounds into one.

And you can do this, oh baby, if you try.  All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied.  And be a simple kind of man. Oh, be something you love and understand, Baby be a simple kind of man.  Won’t you do this for me son if you can.”

It’s not the noise of the door that alerts Dean to his brother’s entrance but the strong scent of familiar alpha.  At 24 his little brother is a monster of a man, the classic strong alpha build with long, shaggy brown hair.  Yet, it’s the hazel puppy dog eyes that make him the softest giant Dean knows.  Sam lingers, silently listening to the concert for the ghosts of their past.  Today is huge for Dean, and his younger brother understands the omega’s desire for the inner peace his music brings.

As the final note dissipates, Sam gently sighs, the slight movement breaking the stillness that surrounds them.  Dean places the guitar in the weathered black case.  The only adornment to the leather is a Beatles sticker, a replica of their first album cover.

“What’s up, Sammy?”  Dean exclaims, trying to keep the anxiety from his words.

The tender alpha glances up from behind his scruffy bangs. “She’s here.  I have them sitting at the kitchen table.  Thought signing contracts would be easier with a proper surface to write on.”

“Them?”  His face scrunched up on the query. Why would she need an extra person?

“It will be fine, Dean.  You got this.”  Sam shrugs nonchalantly. “If it doesn’t work out then you just keep working for Bobby.  No harm no foul right?”

A reflection in the mirror on his wall catches his attention so Dean pauses to check.  He’s got a crisply ironed white shirt, green tie and khakis.  Here’s hoping that the look gives off a proper educator vibe.  Bobby gave him a haircut yesterday and Dean styled the short, light-brown locks with just a touch of gel. 

Sam’s not wrong; if this interview goes south it won’t change anything in his life, but that’s the problem.  He will continue living with his Uncle Bobby, growing old restoring muscle cars instead of using the degree he worked years to attain.  This is his dream, everything he’s hoped for, and watching it crash and burn may kill him.  Actually, there’s a strong possibility that this will go like all the other job interviews that ended before the first question.  Lasting long enough for the other person to take in his true scent and come up with a reason to deny his dream once more.

Hope is dangerous.  The lack of it can turn a man suicidal, but having it taunted in front of you can be even worse and Dean’s tired of filling his head with wishes of things that will never happen.

His brother coughs, clearing his throat. “They are waiting.”

“Now or never.”  Dean taps the guitar case with his fingers for luck before trailing behind Sam.

Their Uncle Bobby’s home has always felt safe to Dean.  Full of dust and cluttered with more books than a library, it’s where the omega fell in love with classic stories and history.  He was 12 when they were brought to the older alpha’s doorstep after the house fire took their parents' lives.  The only two things they have left of Mary and John Winchester is a 1967 Black Chevy Impala and the guitar that was in Baby’s trunk that fateful night.

Walking in, Dean finally sees the alpha who currently holds all the cards.  She looks sophisticated and fancy, a stark contrast to the 1970s yellow and brown kitchen that surrounds her.  The other lady, a beta, stares at Dean intently but not maliciously, so he’s not sure how to take that.  Sam and Dean grab a seat opposite the two women and wait.  Of course it’s the Alpha who speaks, her dark hair cut short, exposing a silky long neck.  Her black suit is tailored beautifully to her curves.

“My name is Jody Mills.  We spoke on the phone a few days ago, Mr. Winchester.”  She exudes strength and control, yet her dark chocolate eyes have a softness that puts Dean at ease.

“Yes, Ma'am.  My brother will be reading over the contracts.”  Dean gestures to Sam, who sits quietly attempting to wipe away the wrinkles on his only suit, purchased on sale at Men’s Wearhouse for his college interviews.

Ms. Mills nods, “Are you a lawyer …”

“Sam, Sam Winchester, and not yet but I just finished my first year at Stanford Law.”  The wannabe lawyer shakes her hand sternly. 

The two alphas take a moment to play who’s bigger before the blonde woman sitting to Jody’s left pouts. “Yes, yes, you are both big strong alphas.  Are you sure you want to work for her, Dean?  She can be all alpha at times.”  The woman jeers, but her tone is playful and loving.  She reaches her hand to Dean. “My name’s Donna.”

In complete opposition to Jody, Donna lounges in a pale pink dress.  Immediately Dean notes that she’s a beta but smells like Jody, forcing his hand to ask, “You’re mates?”

“You betcha,” Donna taunts in a thick Minnesota accent.  “I was suckered into believing this could be a mini vacation, but Lawrence, Kansas, hasn’t really been anything to call home about.”

Dean chuckles because Lawrence is a mediocre college town with nothing to boast other than the pie from the diner on Main.  “I think you got the raw end of the deal.”

“Maybe, but I’ve never met someone like you, Dean.” Donna sniffs the air, getting a swat from her mate.

Her alpha objects, “Don’t be rude or I’ll make you sit in the car.”

Donna rolls her eyes dismissively, “First, I’m the only notary here, so you need me to validate the contracts, and second I’m sure Dean’s used to people interested in his …uniqueness.”

He waits for them to leave disgusted by his designation, but instead they both shoot him warm, genuine smiles.  The situation is extremely off-putting; none of the previous interviews have gone this far.  “You know what I am?”

Simultaneously, as only true mates can do, both women nod as Jody answers, “Of course.  Now the first document I’d like Sam to review is a standard nondisclosure.  My employer lives in the public eye and must trust that you will keep his secrets both personal and professional before we can move to the actual employment contract.”

She hands Sam a paper, which he reads intently.  Dean can’t keep the shock from running through his body.  This never happens; no one wants to hire him.  He’s pretty sure his mouth is opening and closing like a stupid fish, but they have seen his stature and smelled him and yet they are still moving forward with the interview.  What the ever living fuck, has he fallen into an alternate universe?  Is a white rabbit going to suddenly appear?

“Looks good to me, Dean.”  Sam’s words tug Dean back to the moment.  “Just sign here and initial there.  Then Donna will do her thing.”

His hands obey even though his brain can’t seem to get past the shock.  Once Donna stamps and signs, Jody’s smile seems to grow with what appears to be joy.

“Can you tell me who you work for now?”  Dean’s bursting with anxiety, but God he’s been dying to know since she first approached him about the position.

Instead of replying, Jody lifts her iPhone, pointing to the angel wings symbol on the back. 

“Why would Angel Computers need to hire a tutor?” he spits out.

“Maybe this will help.” Jody reaches into her satchel, pulling out an old Time magazine.  “Are you aware of these two men?”

Dean rolls his eyes, because anyone with half a brain should know the answer. “It’s the Novak alpha twins, James and Castiel.  Their father, Michael, created Angel Computers and then passed the company off to them when he retired.”

Unconsciously, Dean’s fingers ghost over the bright blue eyes of Castiel.  He can barely contain the tiny sigh from slipping though his lips.

A dark sadness drifts over Jody’s face as she continues, “Are you aware of the recent tragedy?”

His fingertip moving to the image of James, standing strong and powerful, Dean is all too aware.  “Not quite a year ago James and his omega Amelia were killed in a car crash leaving their daughter disabled.  A cousin took over as CEO, umm, can’t think of his name right now.”

“Eight months, it was eight months ago yesterday that we lost James and Amelia.  Poor Claire just celebrated her 13th birthday, one of many that won’t include her parents.”  The female alpha shakes her shoulders, obviously trying to stave off the emotional heaviness of the situation.  “Anyways, I’m head of security for Angel Computers, specifically that of Castiel Novak and his niece.  Claire is now able to move around in a wheelchair and may one day gain enough mobility on her remaining leg for a prosthetic.  However, the time spent in hospitals, along with recovery, has left her lagging in her studies and she is in no way ready for the stress of socializing with her peers.  We would like to hire you as her personal tutor and as a possible omega for her to bond with.”

Dean raises his hand in a halting gesture.  Not only is this opportunity something he would love to pursue as an educator, but this prominent billionaire family also wants him to bond omega to omega with the current sole heir.  His head spins with so many questions but the most pressing one slips out.

“Is THE Castiel Novak aware of my designation?  Most parents would feel uncomfortable with me being merely in the room with their young omegas, much less bonding with them.”  Dean’s eyes search both women for any sign of deceit.

He is met with a sad smile as Donna tilts forward, responding, “My mate answered this already, but I feel you need it all out on the table.”  Dean nods.  “You are the rarest of all the designations.  Unlike the common alpha, beta, and omega, you fall into an exclusive sub-category.  Most people can go their entire lives without ever walking past much less meeting a fully intact Alpha recessive Omega.  It was only fifty years ago when it became illegal to kill Alpha recessives and twenty when the government no longer required mandatory sterilization after the first heat.  However, it is still highly encouraged and paid for by the US government for the comfort of those afflicted with the extra chromosome.”  She takes a deep inhale, and even though beta scent glands are weaker she still can classify him quickly. “You, my new friend, are 100% still an omega on the inside even though when I open my eyes all I see is a strong proud Alpha on the outside.”

“My brother is not a circus freak and if it’s your intention—,” Sam interrupts but is quickly shut down by Ms. Mills.

“Your brother will be respected for his achievements and special qualifications that make him our first choice for this position.”  Jody’s voice is stern.

Sam’s protective side has taken over as he challenges her, “If you could be so kind as to list these achievements and special,” he draws out the word like it offends him personally, “qualifications.  I will not permit my brother to be taken advantage of or treated as an oddity.  Surely, you can understand my apprehension, especially since you plan to take him out of the country.”

That last part catches Dean’s attention, because no one said anything about leaving the United States.  Dean’s fairly certain Angel Computer Headquarters is located in Cupertino, CA.  Yet he stays quiet, wanting to hear Ms. Mills reply first. 

Smirking with interest, Jody slides the large stack of papers in front of her over to Sam.  “Someone has been reading the first page of the employment contract, which does require Dean to have a valid passport before we can put him on the payroll.  I give you credit for sneaking ahead.  Yes, our main headquarters is in California, but Castiel prefers to work in a calmer environment.  Our president of research and development chooses to toil away in a lab within his own home on a private island in the Bahamas.”

“Holy shit!”  Dean shouts, “I’m going to live in the Caribbean?”

“Dean,” Sam admonishes, his eyes steely with focus, “an answer to my concerns please, Jody.”

A pout absolutely does not form on Dean’s lips.  Nope, that must be some other omega whose scent becomes heavy with a sour sulking.

“Dean Winchester has a Bachelor’s in Education and a Masters in Omega Child Development.  Granted both degrees were done through an online university.  I’m fucking impressed.”  Jody shuffles some papers then continues, “His thesis paper on the necessity of pre-teen Omegas bonding with older Omegas to alleviate emotional heat trauma has been published in several scholarly journals, including the Omega Health Review by Harvard Medical.  According to public school records, Dean was asked to leave school at 15 after his first heat.  He not only finished his high school courses from home, he did it with a perfect GPA.  Now on those achievements alone I would hire him as Claire’s tutor.  Nevertheless, he also has special qualifications, such as being an omega who experienced the loss of his parents at a young age and he is considered disabled by society.  Also, with his alpha strength, lifting Claire in and out of her wheelchair should be easy.”

The kitchen is silent.  Dean’s eyes are darting around the room waiting for someone to laugh or deny that all this is true.  His brother ruffled a bit at Dean being labeled as disabled, but she’s not wrong.  There is a reason that the majority of Alpha recessives choose sterilization.  Seeing an alpha but scenting an omega can sometime send full Alphas into a true rage, which is dangerous.  Dean knows that from personal experience that left him in a hospital bed for two weeks.  Alpha rage is no joke, but Dean refuses to be anything other than who he is regardless of the consequences.

“Thank you.”  Dean startles himself with his own voice.  “I want this job.  When can I start?”

Sam’s mouth opens to add something but thinks twice as his gaze returns to the hefty contract.

“Well this part is dull," Donna states, pointing to the paperwork.  “How about you show me around, Dean?”

Chuckling softly at the way Donna pronounces "about," he nods, rising from his seat as Donna mirrors his movement.  “Some fresh air might be nice.”

“Sounds better than this boring stuff.”  She kisses the top of Jody’s head. “We will be back in an hour to finalize with signatures and such.”

Jody pats her mate’s backside, glancing up with a look of pure adoration.  Dean would give up everything to have an alpha stare at him like that, but that’s so out of his reach it hurts.

When they step outside, Donna pauses, tossing her head back so her face gets the full effect of the July sun.  She stretches her arms out, smiling. “The sun here is different than on the island.  Not bad or good, just different.”  Her eyes drop to meet his. “Are you excited?”

“I think stunned is more accurate.”  The beta nods in understanding.  Dean puts his hands in his pants pockets, shrugging, “I’ve never been outside of Kansas.”

Her grin triples at his confession.  “Oh well, this will be quite the adventure.  The ocean will take your breath away; you must let me stand next to you the first time you dip your toes into the crystal blue waters.  Your face will be amazing.”

“Sure, why not.”  He follows her example, letting the rays wash over his face.  It’s damn hot, but for some reason the heat is comforting and not its usual sticky-balls disgusting.  “What’s he like?”

“I thought I noticed something.”  She spots the decrepit swing hanging from the sole tree in Bobby’s back yard.  Rushing over, she shouts, “Push me!”

Her energy is contagious as Dean relents, letting her climb on before he gives her a huge shove.  Giggles erupt from her tender face. He missed this, the freedom of meeting new people who don’t run from your scent.

After they get a rhythm going, Dean tries to hide his interest but can’t help asking, “What did you mean you noticed something?”

“You have a crush on our Castiel.”  Her eyes are closed as she flies back and forth, but her words cut like a knife.

It suddenly becomes difficult to swallow.  Denial is more than a river. “I don’t’ know what you’re talking about.  The guy is some computer genius, and I’m me.”

Donna tilts her head to the side to face Dean, “Well, the initial contract is for two years so you’ll have time.”

“Shut up.”  He might have used some of his outer alpha strength to push slightly harsher than necessary. 

“Fine, we can change the subject.”  She stops the swing but remains sitting as she twirls around to face him.  Her eyes sweep over his large stature.  “God, you even have hair on your face and that voice, deep and sexy. Unlike any omega male I’ve ever seen; I bet without your scent you could totally pass as an alpha.”

Kicking the dirt under her swing, he retorts, “That’s kind of the whole thing with being Alpha recessive.  Thought you knew what you were talking about earlier.”

“Have you ever been to a specialist, made sure all the omega parts are in working order?”  She twirls side to side as her gaze remains on him.

“No, my Mom was worried they would try to force sterilization, then she died and I just didn’t want to know.  Doesn’t really matter any, does it?  Just because an alpha can tolerate me like Jody and Bobby doesn’t mean they will want to touch me.  I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”  Dean’s voice cracks on the last word because that has been the reason no alpha has done anything more than beat him but it’s also kept him alone.

“Those old wives tales that knotting an Alpha recessive will make your knot fall off.”  Donna scoffs, rolling her eyes, “That’s just stupid.”

“Have you heard the one that my slick is like acid and will burn their dicks?”  Dean cracks up on that one.

Throwing her head back, Donna bursts into laughter, “Oh my Lord, that’s hilarious.  People actually believe that nonsense?”

“They do around here, but maybe …” He doesn’t want to let hope in but God damn it the little shit keeps sliding in without warning.  Dean’s lucky to have a real job in his chosen profession, a romance is just too much to ask for. 

A finger taps at his nose, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. “Don’t give up on maybe, Dean.  I was married to a beta male in Minnesota eight years ago.  Maybes are how I found the love of my life and my mate.  Just keep an open mind, okay?”

Dean nods, unable to find the words.


Later that night, Dean’s going through his room deciding what should be left behind, shipped to the island, and packed in his suitcase.  He’s thrilled that he will be leaving in five days; getting that passport for no reason doesn’t seem so ridiculous now.

There are a slew of boxes crowding his top shelf, so Dean snags one and unfortunately the old cardboard rips as several vibrators and papers fall on his head.  The landing kicks a few of his battery operated friends into life as they flop and shake along his floor. 

Dean’s about to clean up the mess when Sam charges into the room. “I heard a loud bang!”

The young alpha freezes as his eyes go wide at all Dean’s heat toys.  Hastily Dean steps on the photographs to help stave of the worst of the teasing.

“Why is that one flopping around like that?”  Sam asks curiously.

Rolling his eyes, Dean replies, “That little top part spins around to stimulate my prostate.”

“Gross Dean, I didn’t need to hear that.”  His brother's face is bright red through his classic bitch face.

“Well I didn’t need saving from my BOKs, but here you are.”  Dean’s about to die from holding in his snickering.  Sam’s face is priceless.

“A BOK?”  Sam can’t help but query.

“Battery Operated Knot,” Dean quips.

Sam opens his mouth to retort, but the object in question begins to wander in the alpha’s direction.  Unable to help himself, Dean kicks the vibrator with his toe, hitting his brother’s shin. “I think it likes you.”

Showing the maturity of a middle-schooler, Sam squeaks, “That is all kinds of wrong, Dean.”  The younger Winchester sprints from Dean’s bedroom, clearly fleeing the attacking heat toy.

Laughing, Dean collects his toys, reminding himself to pack a few because God knows there won’t be stores on a private island and a single omega needs a little heat helper.  It’s only after the moving pleasure packs are safely tucked away that Dean’s attention falls to the pictures he uses to fantasize.  All of them are torn pages from varying magazines.  Only one person can be found on each and every clipping.  The alpha’s stunning blue eyes sparkle up to Dean from the glossy pictures.

“Please don’t be this good looking in person, Cas.  Presenting ass up to my new boss does not seem entirely appropriate.”