Chapter Text
When Mary Winchester-Novak wakes up on Saturday afternoon, she feels strange. She pushes herself up into a sitting position and glances at her alarm clock – just past one in the afternoon. She doesn’t usually sleep in this late. But she feels kind of funky, kind of antsy, a dull, persistent throb thrumming between her legs and making her spine tingle. She sniffs, and hell, something smells weird.
Mary lifts her arm and gives herself a smell test, and whoa, it’s her. She smells weird.
Could she…is this presenting? She isn’t slick or anything. But her health teacher and her dad both say that presenting feels different for everybody. And her dad would know, because he’s a doctor. Even if he wasn’t a doctor, Mary’s pretty sure that her dad knows everything. Maybe she should ask him?
And it’s not like this is something that she could talk to her omega dad about. It’s way too embarrassing to ask her daddy about her body doing weird stuff. Not ‘cause he wouldn’t know. He’s smart too, but about people-things and friends, and cars and saws and stuff. But also sometimes he treats her like she’s a puppy when she’s already thirteen, thank you very much.
Alpha dad never treats her like a pup.
Quietly, Mary slips out of bed, hugging around her chest. She’s wearing one of alpha daddy’s old band t-shirts, one that omega dad said that they couldn’t throw out because it reminds him too much of when her dads met, so it’s special.
So Mary wears alpha dad’s The Clash t-shirt for pajamas.
She’s pretty sure that she’ll find her dad upstairs in his study, where he usually is on weekend afternoons, “doing the family finances” or “attending to business”, both of which she suspects really mean reading and/or falling asleep in the god-awful armchair up there, another relic that omega dad refuses to let go of, even though he says he thinks that it’s ugly too.
When Mary opens her bedroom door, she can hear her brothers either wrestling around on the living room floor, or fighting. She can never really tell which one is which, since one usually leads to the other anyway. She’s glad they’re occupied, ‘cause she doesn’t want them to make fun of her for smelling funky.
She jogs up the stairs to the study and pauses a moment before she knocks.
“Mary, you don’t have to knock.”
Mary rolls her eyes. Omega daddy says they should knock on the study door even if alpha dad thinks that they don’t have to. She turns the knob and slips inside, quickly closing the door behind her and locking it, just for good measure. The last thing that she needs is for Ben or Jack to run in here and make everything awkward.
“Dad, I feel really weird,” she says, “and I smell funny, but I’m not slick or anything so I don’t know if this is presenting or if I just have some weird disease but I figured you might know because you’re a doctor and you know all about these things and –”
“Mary,” her father says.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, a half-smile tipping up one side of his face. He clicks out of whatever he’s working on on the computer and stands as he says, “You don’t have a weird disease. The reason you’re not feeling slick is because you’re an alpha.”
“I’m…an alpha?” she says.
“Yes, and you’re an alpha in your first rut, as it happens,” he says.
Mary turns pink and opens her mouth to speak, but alpha daddy keeps talking, “Your father and I knew this was right around the bend so we made sure to prepare. Follow me.”
Mary turns even redder, because that means her dads were talking about her rut or whatever this is before it even happened. She ducks her head down and sticks close behind alpha dad, and then snatches his hand because this is embarrassing and she’s scared. She’s all hot under her skin and kind of sweaty and shit, it’s getting worse, isn’t it?
Alpha dad squeezes her hand and whisks her into the master bedroom, where Mary is relieved to see that her other daddy is not present inside.
“I’ll need you to let go of my hand for a minute so that I can get you some supplies,” he says gently.
Mary jerks her hand away with a muttered, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, and he opens the closet door, reaching up to the top shelf. He shuffles around for a second and then brings down two boxes, which he passes to her.
Oh, come on. She turns ever-redder when she sees what her dad just handed her. There’s a pink penis-like implement slashed across the first box and big bold, words HEAT HELPER on all sides of it. She looks up at her dad and says, “I’m not in heat, though.”
“You might want to try that one for your first rut,” he suggests, “It can be tricky being a female alpha. You have more than one way to relieve your rut the same way that a male omega does, but at first a fake channel might not do the trick. You have a while yet before all your alpha anatomy is fully developed.”
“Dad,” Mary mutters.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he says, “this happens to everybody.”
“Not betas,” she replies.
“Not betas,” alpha dad agrees, “but it does happen to every alpha. Now go on. You probably feel awful and this is the only thing that’s going to help. When the first wave of your rut tides over, come out to kitchen and we’ll have some food ready for you. You have to remember to hydrate and eat.”
“Okay,” she says. Mary licks her lips and adds, “…Thanks, daddy.”
“You’re welcome. Now go. And lock your door. We don’t want your brothers barging in on your first rut. Although that would make an interesting story.”
“Gross, dad.”
“Go, Mary,” alpha dad says.
“Right,” she replies, and go she does.
X
Castiel finds Dean elbows-deep in his work, goggles on and saw humming as he cuts down lumber for the legs of a dining room table that a pair of newlyweds ordered – Dean still complains that he’s not sure about the website setup that Charlie made for him, but it certainly has roped in more business for him.
It takes Dean several seconds to notice Castiel hovering in the frame of the workshop door. When he does, he shuts off the saw and pushes his goggles up onto his head. It never fails to impress Castiel how handsome his mate is, though Dean likes to gripe about the subtle gray climbing up in his hair and the longer lines that crease his face when he laughs.
“Hey,” he says, “You smell kind of iffy. Did you clog up the kitchen sink with your tea shit again?”
Castiel rolls his eyes and replies, “No, I have been throwing my tea leaves in the trash as instructed, you slavedriver,” he grins and shakes his head before he says, “Mary just presented.”
A look of surprise smacks Dean in the face. Castiel knows that though they discussed that Mary’s presentation would happen soon, and that Dean insisted upon being prepared so that none of his children ever had to suffer the way that he did through his first miserable heat, that Dean has trouble recognizing that the pups won’t be puppies forever. They’ll grow up and move out and have lives of their own.
Dean says that he doesn’t want to think about that when they are only thirteen, ten and eight years old.
“Is she – she okay?” asks Dean.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Castiel says, “I gave her both of the toys. She’s an alpha.”
The surprise on Dean’s face melts into a mixture of new emotions, among them relief – Dean worries about the world failing to treat his children right, should they present as omegas. Although Dean teaches all the children self-defense techniques, Castiel knows it will reassure him to know that Mary will start to develop alpha strength and will have little to worry about. The possibility of assault does not vanish when one presents as alpha, but it diminishes significantly.
And though Dean has overcome much in their years together, residual fears will likely forever nestle in the back of his brain.
“I think she’s mostly embarrassed,” Castiel says, “It can’t be easy to talk to your parents about being in a rut. Although, she seemed surprised not to be an omega.”
“Huh.”
“Yes,” Castiel says, and glances down at his wristwatch, “She’ll probably be out in twenty or thirty minutes. I should make her something to eat. She’ll wear herself out if she doesn’t get enough calories.”
Dean rolls his shoulders and pulls the goggles off of his head. He says, “I’ll come with. Unless you think she’d be wigged out?”
“She’s thirteen,” Castiel reasons, “Everything is embarrassing to her.”
“Freaking bags of pheromones,” Dean grumbles as he stands, “Why does anyone ever have to be a teenager? It’s awful. For everyone involved.”
Castiel winds an arm around Dean’s shoulders and brings him in for a kiss. Dean sighs into it and then rests his head onto Cas’ shoulder for a long moment. When they finally close the workshop door and trek up the stone path laid out by Dean to the front of the house, it’s chaos.
“Daddy, Ben pushed me!”
“He started it. He took my Batman,” defends Ben.
Castiel tries not to roll his eyes at his sons. He says, “Jack, you know that Batman is your brother’s favorite. What do you do when you want to play with Batman?”
Jack casts his eyes down at the floor and pouts, looking remarkably like Dean being denied a second helping of dessert. He says, “I’m s’posed to ask.”
“And did you ask your brother if you could play with Batman?”
“No.”
“And you, Benjamin Samuel,” Dean says, “On what planet is it okay to push your brother?”
“The Batman planet,” Ben says, indignant.
“Right. Well, unfortunately for you, this is not the Batman planet,” Dean replies, “We are on planet Earth. Now I suggest that we hear some apologies or there are gonna be some boys getting their butts tucked into bed early.”
“But it’s movie night!” Ben exclaims.
“So it is,” Castiel agrees.
The boys go silent and glower at each other. It never fails to strike Castiel that his ten-year-old looks almost exactly like him, minus the color of his eyes. Benjamin squints over at his brother with the same deep frown Castiel sees in the mirror when he’s been woken up too early, his arms crossed over his chest. Jack takes after his omega father – but he looks no less intimidating.
Finally, it’s Ben that relents, his shoulders sagging. He sighs, “I’m sorry that I pushed you.”
Jack maintains his frown for another second before it fades, perhaps at the thought of missing out on family movie night. He mutters, “Sorry I took Batman.”
After the apologies, Benjamin and Jack are fast friends again, though God only knows when another fight will break out. Sometimes Castiel can’t even decipher whether they’re fighting or playing, the way they roughhouse. At least when Dean jumps into the mix to wrestle or pillow fight or whatever it is that they do, he knows that it probably won’t end in tears.
In the kitchen, Dean grabs a beer out of the fridge and collapses into a slouch at their kitchen table, while Castiel removes two slices of bread from the breadbox to start crafting Mary a sandwich. He puts all her favorites on it – roast beef, honey mustard, a couple of pickle slices, but no tomatoes, dad.
Mary emerges nearly a half-hour later, red in the face. Castiel gives Ben a pointed look when he wrinkles his nose at Mary’s scent and opens his mouth to comment. He closes that same mouth when Castiel gives him a slow shake of the head.
Fortunately for everybody, the sound of AC/DC’s She’s Got Balls blasting from the speakers in the living room distracts them all. Dean grins at Mary and gives her wink.
“That’s not funny, dad!” she says.
Dean responds with an air guitar and a dance that sends the boys into a fit of giggles. Castiel tries not to laugh for Mary’s sake and ducks his head to hide his smile – he wonders how long Dean had that trick up his sleeve. Mary, however, scowls and crosses from the kitchen to the living room to pick up a couch cushion and throw it at Dean’s head before she steps back up to eat. Dean takes the blow in stride and cranks up the volume.
When Castiel passes Mary her sandwich and a glass of juice she gives him a tentative smile and says, “Thank you, daddy,” in such a way that Castiel gets the feeling that she is thanking him for more than a sandwich.
He smiles and pulls her in for a one-armed hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Mary makes a noise of protest and wriggles out of his grip with a second noise, a growl of annoyance. A tiny little alpha growl. She takes a step toward the kitchen table but pauses, and turns back around.
“Hey, dad?” she says softly.
“Mm.”
“How long do these things go on?” she asks, voice hushed.
“It varies alpha to alpha,” Castiel replies, “Mine tend to last four days. Generally ruts are somewhere in between three and seven days.”
“Seven whole days?” she echoes, wide-eyed, and then her brows hitch, “But what if it’s not over by Monday? Do I still go to school?”
“We’ll call in for you,” he replies, “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
Mary mutters an ‘okay’ with a snippy tone, but sits down to eat her sandwich. She wolfs it down bite after impressive bite, and washes each part down with a swallow of apple juice. Ruts can really work up a young alpha’s appetite – in more ways than one. Castiel remembers when he was just a teenager, how in between the ruts he would raid his fridge and prepare himself enormous, layered sandwiches that he’d dig into with gusto.
Only just after Mary finishes her food, he can smell another wave of the rut.
“Go,” he says, and touches her shoulder, “I’ll take care of your dishes.”
Mary nods and scrambles off, just as Jack whines, “Hey, how come Mary doesn’t have to wash up?”
For the rest of the day, Mary only emerges once more, wrapped in her Wonder Woman robe with her hair tied up in a scrunchie on top of her head. Castiel sends her off to bed with more water and a couple of pieces of fruit to keep her running until she finally settles in for sleep, which is a task when one is in their rut. She winds her arms around his middle and mumbles another thank you into his t-shirt.
Several hours later, when the sun goes down and Dean starts setting up the furniture and unloads spare blankets from the linen closet to start building their customary fort in front of the television, Jack asks quietly, “Isn’t Mary gonna come out for the movie?”
Castiel ducks down to Jack’s level and says, “Your big sister’s in her first rut. Do you know what that means?”
Jack tilts his head and guesses, “Mary’s an alpha?”
“Correct,” Castiel replies, “and when alphas are in their ruts, they start to smell funny and feel funny and can’t quite do things the way that they’re used to. Mary will be better in a few days.”
“But she doesn’t get to watch the movie,” Jack says, “I want Mary to watch the movie.”
“I know,” Castiel says, “but you wouldn’t want Mary to feel yucky on movie night, would you?”
“No,” Jack says, but he still looks disappointed.
On that note, Castiel helps Jack settle into the structure of blankets and pillows and living room furniture – Dean brings the boys cups of cocoa and a bowl of butter-soaked popcorn, while Castiel relaxes, content with only his tea.
Ben frowns, an expression that echoes Castiel’s in an eerily familiar way, and asks, “Where’s Mary? Doesn’t she wanna watch the movie?”
Before Castiel can explain all over again, Jack jumps in to say, “Mary’s an alpha and she’s having her first rut and even though we want her to watch movies with us, she can’t because she’s feeling funny.”
“What Jack said,” Dean confirms, “All right, buddy, what are we watching?”
“Goonies!” Jack grins.
“You always choose The Goonies,” complains Ben.
“Benjamin,” Castiel warns, “It’s Jack’s turn to pick the movie. If he wants to watch The Goonies, then that’s what we’ll watch.”
Ben gives them a long-suffering look but doesn’t make another peep. He just cradles his cocoa against his chest while Dean flips through their Amazon Instant on the television and selects The Goonies. Just as the opening scene fills the television screen, Dean circles the blanket fort and tucks himself up against Cas’ side, nosing at his neck before he brushes his lips against the skin there.
“Gross, dads,” Jack says, “You’re s’posed to watch the movie!”
Dean chuckles into Castiel’s neck before he pulls back and says, “Sorry, buddy.”
Castiel thumbs along the rim of his mug of tea and turns to press his lips in a gentle kiss Dean’s forehead. The smells of his sons and popcorn and mate and home surround him, but his mind still drifts. He’ll check in on Mary after the movie ends.
It is never easy to be a teenager.
X
The rut doesn’t tide over until Tuesday night. Mary celebrates with the longest shower of her life, scrubbing her hair with flowery, scent-neutral shampoo and the fruity body wash that she always has to stock up on when they drive down into the city. Sometimes she thinks that she would like living in a city better than out in the mountains, where everyone knows each other and the high school she’s gonna go to has only two hundred kids.
But then she thinks about how in the city she wouldn't get to pick wildflowers in the spring and summer and put them in little places all around the house so that it looks pretty. Omega daddy probably wouldn’t have room for his workshop if they lived in a city, and that’s his favorite place to be. It wouldn’t be quiet enough for alpha dad to read and drink his tea on Sundays, and that’s what “helps him prepare for the week” or so he says.
Mary shuts off the shower only when her legs start to get stiff. She towels herself dry and dresses in a fresh set of pajamas. Now that she’s clean, her bedroom smells rank. She wrinkles her nose and yanks up her bedding, balling it into her arms so that she can carry it down to the basement and throw it into the washer.
There, she finds her brothers in a heated Mario Kart battle with omega dad, whooping and yelling at each other. She wishes that the rut went away sooner, so that she could have played too. But when they smell her – or maybe her sheets – the game gets put aside.
Jack pops his head over the back of the downstairs couch and asks, “Are you all better now?”
Mary half-smiles and says, “I think so. I’m gonna…wash these.”
As she tucks the bedding into the washing machine, Jack and Benjamin start up a new round, but omega dad comes to lean against the dryer. He asks, “How’re you feelin’, sweetheart?”
“Weird,” she says honestly, and turns pink, “this is so embarrassing.”
“Eh, you’re fine,” he says, and ruffles her hair.
Mary laughs and whacks him away with an irritated, “Dad,” and pauses to think. She asks, a little more quietly now, “Was it embarrassing for you? The whole…presenting thing?”
She doesn’t like the look that crosses omega daddy’s face. He glances down at the carpet and folds his arms over his chest, blowing all the air out of his lungs before he answers, “That’s a pretty loaded question.”
“Are heats worse?” she asks. She can feel her face heat up even more, but she wants to know the answer, and she knows that her dad wouldn’t lie to her about it.
“That’s hard to say,” he answers, “but it was pretty bad, that first time. You know, your grandpa John raised me up thinkin’ the whole time that I’d be an alpha like Uncle Sam, so it didn’t even cross my mind that I might not be. When I got that first heat, I didn’t know what it was. I thought I was sick. Granddad stuck me back in my bedroom and it was pretty bad. I won’t lie to you. It felt so strange I thought I was dying. Sometime later he throws a ten-buck drugstore toy at my face and that was that.”
“He didn’t have anything ready?” she asks. That just seems…weird. Why wouldn’t you be ready for anything? That's what dads are supposed to do. It's what her dads do, anyway.
“Well, he didn’t think I was gonna be an omega,” her dad rubs at his jaw, a distant sort of look on his face, “and it sucked. I didn’t want you to have to go through anything like that. Not you, and not your brothers either.”
“That’s stupid,” she says.
“Yeah, it was pretty stupid,” he agrees, and then asks, “So, havin’ your first rut was kind of embarrassing, but ‘sides that, are you all right?”
Mary squints at omega dad. He gets weird like this sometimes, asking her if she’s okay even when duh, she’s fine. She’d tell him if she wasn’t okay. He should know that, and most of the time he does. But every once in a while her dad does this – looks at her like he’s afraid she might disappear into thin air or break into a million pieces.
A snarky response sits poised on the tip of her tongue, but something tells Mary to bite it back. Instead of giving a sarcastic reply, she leans forward and wraps her arms around her dad’s middle, pressing her face into his chest. He returns the hug and runs his hands over her back.
When Mary pulls away she gives him a sock to the arm and says, “I’m fine, dad,” then she grins, “and I’ll be even better after I whoop your butt at Mario Kart.”
“You wish,” omega dad says, and they race to the couch together.