Chapter Text
College, Castiel had decided, was in some ways disappointingly similar to high school. His mother was still breathing fire down his neck (at least he swore he could feel it even across the telephone), he still had a hard time with social interactions, there were still some familiar faces around campus he'd rather not see. And there were still compulsory hatching courses for unfortunate alphas and omegas.
When he had received the flyer, insisting on his participation in the state funded hatching classes, Castiel had groaned internally. But his mother had raised him to never back down from a task and to always excel at everything he did. So even though he was fuming (internally, of course, he wouldn't want to set off the smoke detector again) he attached the ugly, bright orange flyer to his corkboard and marked it down in his calendar. Before he left his dorm for classes, he gave it one more scathing look.
November 20, 1999
HATCH!
Invitation to our annual Hatching program. Kick-off meeting on November 20, 6 PM in Room 118, introduction given by Dr. Eleanor Visyak.
HATCH! Is part of a California State sponsored campaign for the sensibilization of hatching care to combat the decline of healthy hatchings.
In association with Dragon Youth of California and the sexual health and education group FIRE UP.
If Cas had had friends who attended Stanford with him, then he surely would have complained to them how unnecessary it was to do another hatching workshop in college. But as it was Cas had no friends here and he clearly knew none of the other participants mingling in the room, displaying a range of emotions from awkward to annoyed. His mother had encouraged him to sign up for the Dragon Association but since it had been more of a suggestion than an order, Cas had elected to ignore it. He didn't want to admit that he felt a miniscule pang of regret because if he had signed up, then he would at least – possibly – know some of the other people in this room. Stanford was a mixed university and dragons were an immigrant species in the US and still pretty rare. He counted about two dozen people, which was impressive. They must have done the same thing he did; chose Stanford exactly because it was mixed species.
Castiel took a seat in the front, carefully keeping his eye contact with others at a minimum, but he nodded at the woman in front. Dr. Visyak, Cas was sure. Behind her was a row of 10 generic white eggs, probably made out of some kind of rubber, and some electronic devices. There were also boxes stacked high, probably with tools for them to use. The set up looked more advanced than the high school project he had been forced to participate in when he was 16.
But Cas had excelled it then and he would make sure to bring his egg to hatching this time as well.
Dr. Visyak checked her watch, then she counted heads. "We seem to be one person short, but let's get started already." People settled after Visyak sent the muttering people a glare, her eyes flashing silver in warning. "I know you have better things to do, we all have, but the State is very concerned about the staggering number of egg mishandling and nest abandonment, especially among young people. Our numbers are small and we dragons have adapted to the requirements of the predominantly human culture around us. Most of us no longer live in packs, most of us didn't grow up with a pack omega to teach us everything about proper nest care and hatching techniques. Some of you, probably the girls, got to play with Hatching dolls, but as we all know the modern hatching doll is human toy companies' attempt at pulling dragons and other egg laying species into their consumer fold." Some people chuckled. Deriding humans for trying to sell them things was something dragons enjoyed doing, at least in the privacy of dragon only circles. In any case, Cas' older sister had played with hatching dolls and when Anna had handed them to Cas after she grew out of it, he realized that they were not only boring but also wildly inaccurate.
"It's been decades since we had to reveal ourselves to humans and that might not sound like much to you guys, but the dragon population in the US is in crisis. We have simply neglected to pass on vital information in our pursuit of adaptation," she announced and the mood in the room took quite a nosedive after that. "So maybe these campaigns seem like a waste of time, but it's crucial that you know some things if you happen to find yourself face to face with an egg."
Castiel found that to be somewhat reasonable. It wasn't that he expected to have children anytime soon, but he was entirely sure that if he did, then he'd be perfectly ready for the task.
"Has any one of you ever assisted in a hatching?" Visyak answered and when she lifted her eyebrows Cas dared to turn around and found a red-haired girl eagerly lifting her hand. "I'm pleasantly surprised. At least one of you, out of a group of 19."
The door opened with a loud squeak of the hinges and the entire classroom turned to look to the side. Castiel instantly narrowed his eyes. Dean Winchester was strolling into the room, a bright cheeky smile on his face, showing off his alpha fangs. The irritating thing about Dean Winchester was that he was handsome and he knew it. This kind of confidence in one's own scales shot sparks of jealousy through Cas. Cas wasn't exactly shy, but he just never really got along with people, dragons or otherwise. (That he was a male omega didn’t help matters. Humans found it freaky, dragons deemed it unfortunate.)
"I amend; at least one of you, out of a group of 20. Sit yourself down, sir. You're late." Dean shrugged, then he shook hands with some of his friends before, their hands connecting with obnoxiously loud clapping sounds, before he sat down towards the back. "When you're taking care of your egg, you can't afford to be late," Visyak finally continued after the noise had settled. She lifted one of the eggs, using both hands. "You will be paired off and given one of these. They are average size and weight for an egg shortly after delivery. The egg has sensors which send information to this little control device." Visyak balanced the egg in one hand - having Cas tense up at once because it was in violation of one of the major rules for egg handling - then grabbed the little electronic device. "This device will measure temperature, movement and impact." She pressed a button, some red letters flashing on a small display. Then she let the egg roll off her hand. It smashed to the ground and while it didn't break, the device started beeping loudly, more letters flashing on the device. Visyak looked at it, then she made an exaggerated motion of throwing up her hands. "Oh, would you look at that. Fall damage, trauma to the egg. It's dead."
Some uneasy chuckles went through the room. Logically, Cas knew that dragon eggs were durable, the shell hard and sturdy some weeks after it had hardened up from the softer shell present during birth. But there were crucial weeks after delivery when the slowly hardening shell was prone to easy cracking when people weren't careful.
"Your egg will be rebooted after you bring it in, so don't try to get out of this by killing your egg as soon as possible. The aim of this course is to familiarize you with egg care. I will let you go out into the wild with the egg for two weeks, see how you'll manage on your own. Each group receives a hatching kit, containing tools and information booklets. It's up to you if you want to make use of it, if you want to consult with family members or check out the library for information. Or maybe you want to wing it and see what happens. After that we'll check in, see how you fared, and then we'll have experts here to teach you proper egg care."
"That's so exciting!" someone whispered and Cas was pretty sure it was the red-head from before. He kinda wished he could pair up with her, but if this was like in high-school they would be doing alpha-omega pairs. And alphas, especially newly presented 16-year-olds were just absolutely useless for this kind of task.
His little spark of hope for a somewhat agreeable project were quickly dashed by Visyak pulling out a clip board, announcing that they would be paired up into alpha-omega pairs.
"That's discriminatory! Omega pairs and alpha pairs can also raise eggs together!" the same high voice spoke up again. Some of the other young adults groaned and muttered but Cas liked her already. "It's 1999, folks! Get a grip!" Dr. Visyak just heaved a sigh.
"I'll be sure to forward your complaint. But for the mean time we'll just stick to the script," she said and then she started assigning groups and handing out hatching kits. He was disgruntled to see the red-head, Charlie, being paired off with someone else, some alpha who clearly looked bored out of his mind. And he was even further disgruntled to learn that he himself had been paired with no other than Dean Winchester himself.
"Hey, Cas. Long time no see," he said with a wink. Visyak frowned down at her sheet when Dean and Cas were standing before her.
"Oh, I see, Castiel isn't a girl's name," she said and squinted at the list again, maybe thinking that the omega sign behind Cas' name would suddenly change.
"Omega name for an omega dude," Dean said, still grinning but there was an edge to it, daring Visyak to comment negatively. Castiel would have been pleasantly surprised by Dean jumping to his defense if he wouldn't have been so flustered. He really should have been used to this by now. College wasn't that different to high school after all. Visyak however cleared her throat and nodded.
"Sure, here's your kit," she said and bent down to grab the box.
"It's biblical," Cas said and Dean inclined his head towards him, without looking at him, muttering a distracted "huh?". Clearly, he was checking out Dr. Visyak's behind.
"My name. It's not an omega name. It's biblical in origin."
"Okay, cool," Dean said with a shrug and then he got handed the box. Visyak then lifted the egg off the table.
"It's switched on. Congratulations, this is your baby for the next three months. Try not to let it die too much, it'll be embarrassing for our program."
"Wouldn't dream of embarrassing you, sweetheart," Dean said and Cas snorted at the disrespectful way to address the woman, but Dr. Visyak only eyed Dean up and down with an appreciative look. That was clearly inappropriate, so Cas reached out and took the egg out of Dr. Visyak's hands. He held it in the recommended hand position, fingers splayed properly, hands maintaining a slightly raised temperature, before he pressed it gingerly to his chest. The egg was surprisingly heavy and weirdly textured, hard below with a softer rubber covering. But most interestingly was that it was warm and pulsated slightly. Really, far more advanced than it had been in high school, where they had used basketballs with painted on faces. Castiel wished Dr. Visyak a good evening and then he left the room, his steps careful and eyes looking for potential threats. Human adolescent males on skateboards with headphones on seemed the most challenging obstacle between himself and his dorm. Dean trailed after him a while later, the things in the hatching kit rattling in the box with Dean's steps.
"So okay, how are we going to go about making sure Hatchiette isn't dead by the end of week two?" Castiel frowned, looking to his side to find Dean had caught up with him. Possibly after some further inappropriate flirting.
"Hatchiette?"
"What, were you just gonna call it egg?"
"Obviously," Castiel answered, walking towards his dorm room, Dean in tow. "And I will take care of it. You don't have to bother."
"Why wouldn't I bother? I showed up, didn't I?" Dean asked with a grin.
"You didn't show up when we did this during high school," Castiel said sharply and Dean shrugged. Did this man take nothing seriously?
"I hadn't officially presented yet. I didn't have to go," he told him and Cas rolled his eyes. "You can't blame me for being a late bloomer. Or trying to get out of that nonsense. I had way better things to do with my time than go cuddle some basketballs."
"Well, other than you I have attended, so I know exactly what to do. You can carry the hatching kit to my dorm and then you're free to do way better things," Castiel said, mentally going through the steps required to provide the ideal incubating conditions with his limited resources. He had already planned how to incorporate the egg into his regular schedule. His manager had looked at him weirdly for a second when he had explained that a fake egg would be joining him on his shifts, but she had brushed it aside with her usual nonchalance when it got to "dragon stuff" in ways only humans could.
"Seriously, Cas, I can actually help," Dean said, a small crease between his brows.
"I feel you would only complicate the matter. I have it already planned out."
"Well, usually it takes two to make eggs."
"But usually alphas have no interest in nesting," Castiel answered flatly, which had Dean frown some more. There was no use denying it. His mother always said it and the project in high school had proven it to Cas. His alpha partner had been horrible and useless. He doubted Dean was any better. He doubted any of the alphas would perform particularly well.
"Yeah, well, I have to go to work, so I guess Hatchiette stays with you for today," Dean said eventually, when they had reached Cas' dorm room. He put the box down.
"The egg will not be called Hatchiette," Castiel objected.
"Hand me a copy of your schedule," Dean demanded, ignoring Cas completely, but at least possessing enough common sense not just to barge into an omega dragon's abode without invitation. Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, but Dean was grinning disarmingly. Handsome face totally relaxed. Again, that bubble of irritation formed inside of Castiel, making his face feel a bit hot. "Come on. Maybe I want to learn? What if I knock up some poor omega?" Castiel stared at him for the casual way Dean could even suggest such a thing. Cas knew about Dean's reputation, though he had always assumed it to be slightly exaggerated. Surely nobody could be having that much sex and still maintain straight As in a majority of his classes. Though Dean also skipped a lot of his classes, claiming boredom. And that had irritated Cas. The lack of dedication, taking everything for granted, treating everything as a joke. Well, this wasn't a joke to Cas. But there was still that niggling sense of worry in a remote part of his brain. What if Dean did knock up someone? What if he was honorable enough to support them? Could Castiel live with himself if their unfortunate egg perished because Dean didn't know how to maintain its ideal core temperature?
Castiel sniffed, but his mind was made up.
"Fine. I'll get you a copy. We can schedule brood meetings in our free period," Castiel determined.
"Brood meeting, seriously?" Dean muttered in disbelief, "what are we, chicken?" Castiel tilted his head at him, then he went into his dorm, carefully sitting down the egg on the makeshift nest he had prepared next to his bed.
"The terminology is fitting," was all Cas said when he handed Dean a copy of his schedule. Dean rolled his eyes, but his lips were pulled up into a smile. He was giving Castiel pretty contradictory signals, but whatever went on in Dean's head, Dean's face definitely brought back a certain uncomfortable feeling in Castiel's stomach. Must be irritation.
"Okay, I'm off tomorrow at 1PM too. We can organize then." This agreed upon, they parted ways and Castiel closed the door on him, happy to catch a breath of air that didn't smell like Dean for a chance. Because Dean was an irresponsible alpha, absolutely not fit to be partnered with Cas, especially not fit to mate and raise children with. Not fit to raise children! No with implied or required or desired! Cas corrected mentally. It was only right to slam the door on that particular thought right away.
It was time to check the egg's temperature.