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Summary
It smells like one thousand degrees and a volcano ready to blow when Dean Winchester finishes attaching the ankle chains onto his brother's foot. The look on Sam's face is somewhere between a grimace and a call for murder, Omega eyes bleeding red in the low light. The stench, it reeks of rebellion and defiance; oddly strong for an Omega, even a recently turned one. Dean knows this shouldn't be happening, that he just has to—can only hope to—wait out this period of tragedy. Sam though, as much as his mind's concerned, he's still ninety-eight percent Alpha. And Alphas don't like to be restrained, locked down and treated as lesser than. Before the chains on his hands are attached, he tries to convey somewhere between a plea for his brother and a threat for dignity but when that doesn't work and the cuffs finds its mark, it feels like goddamn torture on Sam's soul.