Chapter Text
Dean Winchester was the kind of Omega that others envied, though he never saw himself that way. His bright green eyes sparkled with kindness, his freckles dusted across his cheeks like scattered stars, and his golden heart shone in every action he took. People often told him he was beautiful, inside and out. His kindness wasn’t a performance; it was simply who he was.
On most days, you could find him in his small kitchen, flour dusting his shirt as he baked pies for a local charity. Or maybe at the animal shelter, helping to clean kennels and coax scared dogs out from corners with soothing murmurs. And yet, for all his goodness, Dean sometimes felt like a square peg in a round hole, especially in the world of Alphas who always seemed to tower above him, both physically and socially.
Dean didn’t resent his status as an Omega—it was just how the world worked. Alphas led, Omegas supported, and somewhere in between were the Betas who filled the gaps. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was the only one he knew.
What Dean did resent was how little choice he had in his own life.
Dean knew the weight of duty better than anyone. As an Omega born to the powerful Winchester family, he’d always been aware that his life wasn’t entirely his own. When his father, John Winchester, had arranged for him to be engaged to Jimmy Novak, the son of Chuck Novak, Dean had no say.
“You’ll marry Jimmy Novak,” his father, John Winchester, had said matter-of-factly over dinner one evening. “This is the best thing for both families.”
“Dad,” Dean had protested, his stomach sinking. “I don’t even know him.”
“You’ll get to know him,” John replied, waving off Dean’s concern as though it were trivial. “Chuck and I have worked this out. The Novaks are powerful, and their company is merging with ours. This is a done deal, Dean.”
A done deal. Dean remembered the words so clearly because they had left no room for debate. And so, the engagement to Jimmy Novak became a fact of life—one Dean was expected to accept without question.
When Dean met Jimmy for the first time, he thought there might be hope. Jimmy was polite, well-dressed, and good-looking in that classic Alpha way: sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that seemed to put people at ease.
Dean had been nervous, of course. But Jimmy had smiled at him during their first meeting and said, “You’ll be taken care of, Dean. I promise.”
It sounded kind, even reassuring. Dean told himself he could make it work. Maybe Jimmy would grow to care for him, and maybe Dean could find happiness in this arrangement. After all, Omegas were meant to adapt, weren’t they?
But as days turned into weeks, Dean started to notice the cracks in Jimmy’s charming exterior. At first, Jimmy had seemed like a dream. An Alpha with a winning smile and an easy charm, Jimmy appeared to be everything an Omega could ask for. But appearances could be deceiving, and Dean had learned that lesson the hard way.
Jimmy never seemed interested in spending time with him. He’d cancel plans at the last minute or leave Dean alone at events while he networked with important business contacts. Dean tried to brush it off, telling himself that Jimmy was just busy.
But then there were the comments.
“You don’t need to come to the dinner tonight,” Jimmy said one evening as he straightened his tie in front of the mirror.
Dean, sitting on the edge of the bed, blinked in confusion. “Why not? I thought the whole point was to go as a couple.”
Jimmy sighed, as though Dean were being difficult. “It’s a formal event, Dean. I don’t want you to feel out of place.”
Dean’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I can handle it,” he said quietly.
“Can you?” Jimmy asked, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, let’s be honest—this isn’t exactly your scene.”
Dean didn’t know what hurt more: the dismissal or the implication that he wasn’t good enough.
The only bright spot in Dean’s new life was Jimmy’s twin brother, Castiel Novak.
Dean had met Cas at one of the family dinners the Novaks hosted. Though Castiel and Jimmy were identical in appearance, their personalities couldn’t have been more different. While Jimmy exuded charisma and ambition, Cas was quiet, thoughtful, and almost shy.
“Dean, this is my brother, Castiel,” Jimmy had introduced them with a casual wave, already turning his attention elsewhere.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Dean said, offering his hand.
Castiel took it gently, his touch warm and reassuring. “The pleasure is mine, Dean.”
The sincerity in his voice caught Dean off guard. He smiled—a genuine one, for the first time in what felt like weeks.
Throughout the evening, Castiel stayed near Dean, asking him thoughtful questions and listening intently. It was a stark contrast to Jimmy, who barely acknowledged Dean’s presence.
During that first dinner, Dean had found himself seated next to Castiel. As the conversation buzzed around the table, Cas had turned to him and asked, “Do you like pie?”
The question was so unexpected that Dean had laughed. “I love pie,” he said. “Why?”
Cas’s lips curved into a small smile. “I overheard you talking about baking earlier. I thought it was nice. Not many people bake from scratch anymore.”
Dean felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. For the rest of the evening, Cas made an effort to include Dean in the conversation, asking him questions and listening intently to his answers.
“You have a kind heart,” Castiel said softly as the evening wound down.
Dean blinked, surprised by the compliment. “I—thank you. That’s… nice of you to say.”
Castiel tilted his head, studying him. “Jimmy’s a fool if he doesn’t see it.”
Dean sat on the edge of the grand leather sofa in Jimmy’s luxurious penthouse, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. His legs bounced anxiously, and his golden-green eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. It was nearly 9 p.m., and once again, Jimmy wasn’t home.
The omega sighed deeply, running a hand through his short, soft hair. This was the fifth dinner in a row Jimmy had missed. He’d promised to be home early tonight, swearing they’d spend time together, but now the elaborate meal Dean prepared sat cold on the dining table, untouched.
Dean glanced at his phone. No texts. No calls. Nothing.
He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He shouldn’t be surprised. Jimmy always had excuses—work meetings, last-minute calls, some networking event. And Dean? Dean was expected to be quiet, compliant, the perfect omega fiancé who understood how demanding his alpha’s job was.
“Am I that easy to forget?” he whispered to the empty room.
The silence was deafening.
Across town, Jimmy Novak stood in a brightly lit restaurant, glass of scotch in hand. His secretary, Amelia, laughed at something he said, her hand brushing his arm in a way that should have felt inappropriate. But Jimmy didn’t care.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home, sir?” Amelia teased, her tone light and playful.
Jimmy smirked. “Dean will be fine. He knows how important my job is. He’ll get over it.”
Amelia tilted her head, pretending to pout. “Such a shame. If I had someone like that waiting at home, I’d never leave.”
Jimmy’s smirk widened. “It’s all about priorities.”
It wasn’t the first time Jimmy had left Dean behind, and it wouldn’t be the last. But the one solace Dean had found in this arrangement was Castiel. Jimmy’s twin brother was everything Jimmy wasn’t: gentle, thoughtful, and quietly kind.
Castiel had a way of making Dean feel seen, even when he was drowning in the overwhelming isolation of his relationship. Whenever Castiel visited, he always asked how Dean was doing, really doing. At first, Dean had brushed it off. He wasn’t supposed to confide in his fiancé’s brother. But Cas had a way of looking at him, his blue eyes filled with so much sincerity, that Dean couldn’t help but open up.
That night Jimmy didn't come to dinner, Castiel stopped by unannounced. He knocked softly on the door, and when Dean opened it, Cas held up a bag of takeout.
“I figured you’d be alone,” Castiel said, a slight smile on his face. “May I come in?”
Dean hesitated. He knew Jimmy wouldn’t like it if he knew Castiel had been there. But at the same time, he was so tired of being alone. “Yeah. Yeah, come on in.”
They sat together at the kitchen table, eating takeout and talking about nothing in particular. Dean found himself laughing at one of Cas’s dry jokes, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like himself again.
“Dean,” Castiel said after a moment, his tone turning serious. “Are you happy with Jimmy?”
The question caught Dean off guard, and he fumbled for an answer. “I—I mean, it’s fine. He’s busy with work, and I understand that. It’s not easy for him, running the company and everything.”
Cas studied him, his gaze piercing but kind. “Being busy doesn’t excuse neglect. You deserve more than that.”
Dean looked down at his hands, his throat tightening. “It’s not that bad,” he whispered. But even as he said it, he felt the weight of the lie.
As the days went on, Dean found himself gravitating toward Cas more and more. It wasn’t intentional—Cas was simply there when Jimmy wasn’t. When Jimmy canceled plans, it was Cas who offered to help Dean carry dishes at family gatherings. When Jimmy dismissed Dean’s concerns, it was Cas who listened without judgment.
But Dean reminded himself constantly that Cas was just being kind. After all, he was Jimmy’s twin. He was just looking out for his future brother-in-law. Nothing more.
One evening, as Dean sat alone in the apartment he shared with Jimmy, he stared at his phone, debating whether to call his brother Sam. He hadn’t seen his family in weeks—Jimmy always had a reason why it wasn’t a good time.
They’re too far away, Dean.
Sam’s just going to criticize me for working so much.
Your dad’s been pressuring me about the merger. We don’t need more drama.
Dean set the phone down with a sigh. Jimmy was right—wasn’t he? Sam probably wouldn’t understand. None of them would. And if Dean brought it up, it might only cause trouble for Jimmy at work.
Still, the ache of loneliness settled heavily in Dean’s chest.
He glanced at the clock. Jimmy had said he’d be home hours ago, but there was still no sign of him.
Jimmy didn’t come home until nearly midnight. When he finally walked through the door, Dean was still waiting, curled up on the couch with a book he’d barely read a page of.
“You’re still awake?” Jimmy’s tone was dismissive, and he didn’t even bother taking off his coat as he moved toward the kitchen.
Dean closed the book and stood, his heart sinking. “I waited because I thought we could talk… maybe have a late dinner together.”
Jimmy paused by the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water. He twisted off the cap and took a long sip before responding. “Dean, it’s late. I’ve had a long day. I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped. “I just wanted to see you. We haven’t spent any time together this week.”
Jimmy turned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And whose fault is that? I’ve been working. You knew what you were signing up for when we got engaged, Dean. This isn’t some fairy tale.”
The words stung, but Dean swallowed his hurt. “I wasn’t asking for a fairy tale. I was just… I miss you, Jimmy.”
Jimmy’s face softened, but not in a comforting way—it was the kind of look he wore when he wanted to end a conversation on his terms. “I know you do,” he said, stepping closer to press a fleeting kiss to Dean’s forehead. “But I’m trying to secure our future here. I need you to trust me to do what’s best for us.”
Dean wanted to believe him. He really did. But as Jimmy disappeared into the bedroom without another word, Dean couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.
The weeks that followed only deepened the cracks in their relationship.
Jimmy’s absences became more frequent, and when he was around, he was colder, more distant. Dean tried to make things better, baking Jimmy’s favorite meals and tidying up the apartment until it was spotless. But nothing seemed to reach him.
Worse still, Jimmy began to chip away at Dean’s confidence with his words.
“You’re too needy,” he said one morning when Dean asked why he hadn’t returned his texts the night before. “I can’t be glued to my phone all the time.”
“I don’t know why you insist on wearing that,” he said another time, gesturing to a soft blue sweater Dean had picked out. “It makes you look… ugly.”
Dean started second-guessing everything. Was he too needy? Was he not good enough for Jimmy? He felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to anticipate what might set Jimmy off next.
The only reprieve Dean had was Castiel.
Whenever Dean visited the Novak estate for family events, Castiel was always there, offering quiet kindness when Jimmy brushed him off or ignored him completely.
One afternoon, during a family lunch, Jimmy was in the middle of a conversation with Chuck about the company merger. Dean had tried to contribute something to the discussion—something small, a comment about marketing strategies he’d read about online—but Jimmy had dismissed him with a curt, “Dean, this isn’t your area of expertise.”
Dean flushed and looked down at his plate, fighting the sting of humiliation. But before he could spiral further, Castiel leaned closer to him.
“I think that was a good idea,” Cas said, his voice low enough that only Dean could hear.
Dean glanced up at him, surprised.
Cas gave him a small smile. “Sometimes it takes someone outside the industry to see things from a different perspective. Don’t let anyone make you feel like your thoughts don’t matter.”
The warmth in Cas’s words was like a balm to Dean’s wounded pride. He nodded, managing a small smile of his own. “Thanks, Cas.”
As the days wore on, Dean found himself confiding in Castiel more and more. He didn’t tell him everything—he couldn’t. But he let little pieces of his feelings slip through, and Castiel always listened without judgment.
One evening, after Jimmy had canceled plans yet again, Dean called Cas on a whim.
“Hey, Cas.” Dean said when Cas picked up. “I know this is random, but… are you busy?”
“I’m never too busy for you, Dean,” Cas replied without hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
Dean hesitated, staring down at the phone in his hands. “I just… I needed to hear a friendly voice. Jimmy’s working late again, and the apartment feels so empty.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Cas’s steady voice: “Do you want me to come over?”
Dean blinked, caught off guard. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” Cas said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
When Castiel arrived, Dean opened the door to find him holding a bag of takeout.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Cas said with a small shrug, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Dean felt his throat tighten with emotion. “Thanks, Cas.”
They spent the evening eating and watching old movies on the couch, and for the first time in weeks, Dean felt like he could breathe again.
Jimmy’s behavior continued to worsen, though he was always careful to maintain his charming façade around others. Dean’s family and friends didn’t see the sharp edge to Jimmy’s words or the way he dismissed Dean’s feelings.
Whenever Dean tried to bring up his concerns, Jimmy turned the tables on him, making him feel like he was the problem.
“Why do you always have to make everything about you, Dean?” Jimmy snapped one evening after Dean asked why he hadn’t shown up to their planned dinner. “I’m working to build something for both of us, and all you can do is complain about how lonely you are.”
Dean shrank under the weight of Jimmy’s words, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. “I’m not trying to make it about me… I just—”
“Just what?” Jimmy interrupted, his voice cutting. “Just want me to drop everything because you’re feeling neglected? Grow up, Dean.”
Dean’s chest tightened, and the familiar sting of guilt settled in. Maybe Jimmy was right. Maybe he was being selfish.
The pattern repeated itself again and again. Anytime Dean tried to express his feelings, Jimmy found a way to twist the narrative, making Dean feel small, unreasonable, or even ashamed.
Jimmy’s control over Dean’s life wasn’t just emotional—it extended into every aspect of Dean’s day-to-day. He kept Dean isolated, discouraging him from visiting family or friends.
“Your brother doesn’t understand how hard I work,” Jimmy said one day when Dean mentioned wanting to visit Sam. “He’s just going to put ideas in your head. You don’t need that kind of negativity right now.”
Dean nodded reluctantly, letting the topic drop. But deep down, he missed his family terribly.
It wasn’t just Sam—Jimmy discouraged him from seeing anyone. When Dean brought up inviting his best friend, Charlie, over for lunch, Jimmy shook his head and said, “Charlie’s always been a bad influence. I don’t want her filling your head with nonsense.”
Over time, Dean found himself withdrawing from everyone. It felt easier than fighting with Jimmy about it.
One afternoon, Castiel stopped by the apartment unannounced.
Dean blinked in surprise when he opened the door to find Cas standing there, holding a bouquet of sunflowers.
“I was in the area,” Cas said, his deep voice calm and steady. “I thought you might like some company.”
Dean hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “Jimmy’s not here,” he said quietly, stepping aside to let Cas in.
“I figured,” Cas replied, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter. “He always seems to be ‘working late.’”
The bitterness in Cas’s tone made Dean’s stomach twist. “He’s busy,” Dean said defensively, though the words felt hollow even as he said them.
Cas turned to him, his blue eyes piercing. “Dean, are you okay?”
The question caught Dean off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Was he okay? He didn’t even know anymore.
“I’m fine,” he said eventually, forcing a small smile. “Really, Cas. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Cas didn’t look convinced, but he let it go—for now.
That evening, after Cas left, Dean sat alone on the couch, staring at the bouquet of sunflowers. They were bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the emptiness he felt inside.
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be with someone like Cas—someone who cared about him, who made him feel seen and valued.
But then he shook his head, banishing the thought. It was impossible. Cas was Jimmy’s brother. And Dean was Jimmy’s fiancé, whether he liked it or not.
Dean tried to calm himself down, his hands steady despite the anxiety twisting in his chest. Today was another family gathering, one he dreaded but couldn’t avoid. Jimmy had insisted they go, as it was important for maintaining appearances.
“You’re wearing that?” Jimmy’s voice cut through Dean’s thoughts as he entered the living room.
Dean glanced down at his outfit—a soft button-up shirt and dark jeans, casual but clean. “Yeah, I thought—”
“Don’t you own something more refined? You’re meeting my parents and colleagues again, Dean. You need to look presentable, not pathetic.” Jimmy interrupted, his tone condescending.
“I-I thought this was fine…” Dean trailed off, unsure of himself.
Jimmy let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand why you can’t put in more effort. You look like you’re going to a diner, not a formal gathering. Do you want people to think I don’t take care of you?”
The words stung, but Dean forced a small smile. “I’ll go change.”
As he turned to head back upstairs, Jimmy grabbed his arm—not roughly, but firm enough to stop him. “I’m only saying this because I care, Dean. You know that, right? I want what’s best for you.”
Dean nodded quickly. “Of course. I know.”
But deep down, he didn’t. Jimmy’s words always left him questioning himself, doubting his choices, his worth.
Later that evening, the two of them stood side by side as Jimmy entertained his family and colleagues. Dean kept quiet, offering polite smiles and nodding along when spoken to.
When the topic shifted to their relationship, Jimmy put on the perfect alpha persona. “Dean’s been such a rock for me during these busy weeks,” he said, his arm draping casually around Dean’s shoulders. “I couldn’t ask for a more supportive partner.”
The words were sweet, but they rang hollow in Dean’s ears.
“That’s so lovely,” one of the guests said. “You’re so lucky to have him, Dean.”
Dean’s throat tightened. He wanted to correct them, to say that he wasn’t lucky—at least, not in the way they thought. But Jimmy’s hand squeezed his shoulder subtly, a silent reminder to stay quiet.
Later, as they drove home, Dean finally found the courage to speak up.
“Jimmy, you don’t really mean all those things you said back there, do you?”
Jimmy glanced at him, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“The compliments. About me being your rock,” Dean said quietly, his hands twisting in his lap. “You don’t treat me like that when we’re alone.”
Jimmy’s expression darkened. “Are you seriously starting a fight over this? After everything I’ve done for you?”
Dean flinched. “No, I just—”
“No, Dean. I’ve been working my ass off to make this relationship work, and you’re complaining because I don’t compliment you enough? Do you even hear how ungrateful you sound right now?”
The words hit their mark, and Dean shrank back in his seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Jimmy cut him off with a sigh. “God, I don’t know why I even bother sometimes. Maybe if you weren’t so needy, we wouldn’t have these problems.”
Dean’s chest tightened, and he nodded, ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better.”
Jimmy’s tone softened instantly. “That’s all I’m asking, Dean. I just want us to be happy.”
Dean forced a small smile, even as his heart felt heavier than ever.
After days, that night was long and cruel.
Dean sat curled up on the couch, his arms wrapped around himself, the television playing softly in the background. He wasn’t watching it—not really. His eyes flicked toward the clock on the wall for what had to be the hundredth time that night. 3:47 AM.
Jimmy still wasn’t home.
A deep sense of unease sat in Dean’s stomach, twisting like a knife. This wasn’t the first time Jimmy had stayed out all night, but Dean had always convinced himself it was work. A late meeting, an important investor, something unavoidable. But tonight felt different. He had texted Jimmy hours ago, but there was no reply. He had called—twice—but the calls went straight to voicemail.
His throat tightened as a terrible thought crept into his mind. What if something happened to him?
By the time the first hints of dawn peeked through the curtains, exhaustion had finally won. Dean curled up on the couch, his body sinking into the cushions, and let sleep take him.
The sharp sound of the front door opening startled Dean awake. His heart pounded as he sat up quickly, disoriented from sleep. His eyes landed on Jimmy, who stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled.
Relief flooded through Dean, but it was short-lived.
As Jimmy stepped into the dim light of the apartment, Dean caught it—the scent.
A cloying, floral perfume that didn’t belong to him. The unmistakable scent of another Omega clung to Jimmy’s clothes, mixing with something more intimate—a scent marking.
Dean’s stomach dropped. His hands trembled as he pushed himself off the couch. “Jimmy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Where were you?”
Jimmy sighed, rolling his eyes as he loosened the top buttons of his dress shirt. “Don’t start, Dean.”
But Dean wasn’t listening anymore. His gaze had locked onto the bruise just above Jimmy’s collarbone. A bite mark. A kiss that wasn’t his.
Dean’s vision blurred with tears. His whole body felt like it was collapsing in on itself. His voice cracked. “You—” He swallowed hard, trying to force down the sob in his throat. “You cheated on me.”
Jimmy’s expression darkened instantly. “Dean, don’t be ridiculous.”
Dean’s hands clenched into fists as he stepped closer. “There’s another Omega’s scent all over you!” His voice broke. “And—and there’s a bite mark on your neck, Jimmy! Don’t you dare stand there and lie to me.”
Jimmy exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “You’re overreacting—”
A sharp crack filled the room as Dean’s palm connected with Jimmy’s cheek.
Jimmy’s head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening as he slowly turned back to look at Dean. Shock flickered in his blue eyes for a fraction of a second before it disappeared behind a cold mask.
Dean’s breath came in ragged gasps, his own hand trembling from the slap. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t care. “How could you do this to me?” he choked out. “After everything—after I gave up everything for you!”
Jimmy’s expression hardened. He straightened his shoulders, his voice turning clipped and emotionless. “Oh, come on, Dean. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Dean blinked in disbelief. “Dramatic?” he repeated, his voice a whisper. “You betrayed me—you broke us.”
Jimmy scoffed. “Broke us?” He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Dean, we were broken long before tonight. You just refused to see it.”
Dean felt his entire world tilting. “What does that even mean?”
Jimmy ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “It means I’m tired of you constantly needing reassurance. You suffocate me, Dean. Always wanting to talk, always whining about how I don’t spend enough time with you.” He scoffed. “Maybe if you weren’t so damn clingy, I wouldn’t have had to spend time with someone who actually lets me breathe.”
The words hit like a gut punch. Dean’s breath hitched, and he staggered back a step, his heart splintering in his chest.
“I—I just wanted us to happy,” he whispered, voice barely audible.
Jimmy sighed in exasperation. “And there it is. The victim act.” He gestured sharply at Dean, his voice dripping with disdain. “You act like you’re some helpless, perfect little Omega, and I’m the monster. But you never think about what I need. You’re exhausting, Dean.”
Dean’s breath came quicker now, panic clawing at his throat. His hands shook at his sides, and his vision blurred.
“Jimmy, please,” he gasped, his chest tightening painfully. “I—I can’t breathe.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go. Another dramatic act.” He shook his head. “Dean, you always make everything about you.”
Dean’s fingers clawed at his shirt as he stumbled backward, his body struggling for air. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed in a vice, his heart hammering wildly.
“Jimmy, I—I need help,” Dean gasped, sinking to his knees. “Please…”
Jimmy stared at him for a long moment. Then, with a disgusted shake of his head, he grabbed his coat.
“I don’t have time for this.”
And then he walked out the door.
Dean’s vision tunneled. His lungs screamed for air, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pull in enough oxygen.
"This is it", he thought dimly. "This is how I die."
His body gave out, and he crumpled onto the floor, his lips parting in a silent plea for help.
No one heard him.
No one was there to catch him.
And the last thing he felt before the darkness took him was the crushing realization that Jimmy had left him to die.