Work Text:
Dean POV
I yawn. The world outside the window is cold and gray. It’s raining and freezing, late November biting at the Impala’s windows. Sammy is asleep in the backseat and Dad is driving, tense as barbed wire. The Impala creaks under the weight of his frustration. His scent is rust and burned earth, so strong it makes my eyes water.
Another dead end. Another hunt that didn’t bring us any closer to the demon that killed Mom.
We’re almost in Sioux Falls. Once again we’re going back to Uncle Bobby’s. Dad hates it after Bobby asked him to let me stay when I… when I disappointed him by turning out to be a damn Omega.
But it’s been two years and now I’m stronger. I’m almost eighteen and Dad is finally letting me hunt by his side!
I have my gun, my knife, and my inhibitors.
I’m a hunter. I’m a Winchester. Sammy keeps growing, tall and strong… I really hope he’ll be an Alpha, safe from this shitty life…
I yawn again while “Cold as Ice” plays in the car. I close my eyes and listen to the lyrics. It sounds like Dad talking to me…
«You’re as cold as ice.
You’re willing to sacrifice our love.»
--
«Wake up.»
Dad growls, shaking me. We’ve arrived. I’m already standing outside the car before I’m even fully awake. I’m good. I’m obedient. He needs to know he can count on me.
Sammy gets out more slowly, searching my gaze. I know he doesn’t like how I react to Dad. He’s fourteen now and already starting to challenge him. I can’t protect him if he does that! Why doesn’t he get it?!
Uncle Bobby hugs us both and gives Dad a low warning growl. He’s already set up the sofa bed and made hot soup, which the three of us accept gratefully.
I like it here. It smells like healing herbs, warm fire, motor oil and leather. And I like Uncle Bobby. He’s a Beta. Being with him makes me feel safe. Not wrong. He never judges me… never has. He smells like warmth and forest floor, gentle as his hand ruffling my hair.
We eat in silence, then I take Sammy to bed. He looks at me again, but he knows we can’t talk yet—Dad is too close.
--
Three days later we’re loading the Impala. We’re heading west. Dad talked to other hunters through Uncle Bobby. The yellow-eyed demon was maybe spotted that way. Maybe.
It’s always a maybe.
«Dean?»
I turn. Uncle Bobby is at the door, Dad and Sammy already in the car.
«Come here, boy.»
I look at Dad. He seems calm enough, so I approach Bobby.
«Yeah? Everything okay, Uncle?»
I ask, noticing something different in his scent. Stronger…?
«Here. You need this.»
He shoves a pillow into my arms. A pillow with little sheriff stars on it.
«You can’t keep sleeping with your face smashed against the window.»
He huffs while I stare, confused.
«Uncle, I…»
I’m not used to receiving anything. Nothing that isn’t a weapon or Sammy’s amulet that I wear around my neck.
«Dean. Take it with you. It’ll help. Okay? It’ll help when… you’re more fragile.»
His eyes lock into mine.
And then I understand.
It’s comfort. Something of my own. Something… Omega-coded.
I smile, trying not to cry. I hold it to my chest and nod, unable to speak. He understands the thank you I’m trying to say. He smiles slightly.
«Now go. Your dad’s waiting. Just tell him it’s for your neck or some bullshit like that.»
He nudges me toward the car and I climb in without a word.
Dad makes a few comments but doesn’t take the pillow away. Sammy squints at me, sharp and clever as always, then smiles. And for once, I feel a little less wrong.
«SAAAAM?!»
I yell from the bathroom. Another motel with a flickering neon sign and mucous-colored carpet. Another Christmas spent hunting.
Fucking Lilith is making us bounce across the entire country. But today we’re not hunting.
«What is it, Dean?»
Sam sighs behind his laptop.
«Wanna go out to eat? You up for it?»
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow.
«You sure? It’s Christmas…»
I make a face. It’s our first Christmas without Dad… Not that we ever celebrated with him, but Sam knows this year hit me harder.
«Yeah… yeah. Let’s go. We fucking deserve it. And there’s a place nearby famous for their cherry pie!»
We really do deserve it, and I want that fucking pie.
Sammy smiles and closes the laptop.
«Let’s go, then!»
--
The pie really was epic. And the burger too. The Beta waitress seems to like us—well, like Sam—considering the explosion of lilies when he ordered blueberry cheesecake. It’s not Christmas unless Sammy gets dessert.
«So? You wanna hit on her or should I do it?»
I grin, nodding toward the girl. He rolls his eyes.
«Not today, Dean!»
«You’re too serious, Sammy! You need to relax! Use those Alpha shoulders! If you want, I’ll even give you the room!»
«Are you kidding? It’s Christmas and… and we’re doing something almost normal for once! I want to spend it with my brother!»
He’s half angry and half exasperated. He smells like ink and flannel, but there’s something else… something I can’t identify but makes my nose wrinkle.
I nod and pull a small cloth-wrapped bundle from my pocket.
«Then take your gift.»
He looks shocked. I savor his expression.
«Dean… you got me a present?!»
«Oh for fuck’s—just open it! Don’t… analyze everything!»
He unwraps it like it’s made of glass. I’m about to punch him. I want to see his face when he sees it.
And then he lifts it. His new gun. A real gun, not that Beretta he keeps carrying around.
«Dean, this is… wow!»
«Oh yeah! She’s a bad girl! Taurus 99 with mother-of-pearl grip! Better aim and stability, even with silver bullets!»
I’m proud. It suits him. Elegant but strong…
«Mother-of-pearl? Like yours? Did you get me a matching gun?»
He smiles. Damn. Affectionate little bastard.
I look away, muttering in my coffee.
«It’s not matching! Mine is a badass Colt M1911A1! A collector’s piece!»
«Sure… but it still has mother-of-pearl, right?»
«Shut up, Sammy!»
He laughs, and his scent changes—pinewoods, fireworks, coffee. He’s happy. And I laugh too.
«Well… it’s gorgeous. Thank you, Dean.»
I shrug, smiling.
«Your turn.»
He grins and puts a box on the table. An actual, wrapped box with a bow. Where the hell was he hiding that?!
«For you. Go on, it won’t bite.»
I stare at him like an alien. Both him and the gift look like props from a damn Christmas movie.
I untie the ribbon, heart racing harder than in any vampire nest. I don’t know why.
I open the box and see cobalt-blue fabric. I touch it—soft fleece. A blanket.
I can’t stop touching it. A smile creeps up as I lift it, and I can’t help brushing it against my cheek. Holy shit. It’s the softest thing in the whole fucking universe. I love it.
Sammy watches me, smiling. Sweet, older than he has any right to be.
«We don’t have a home… but you can keep this with you. It’s big and warm. You can keep it in the car or… wherever you want.»
«Sammy… I… uh…»
I set the blanket down carefully. Fleece has always done this to me—calms me, makes me feel… protected. And Sam knows.
«Maybe one day we’ll have a house. And you can make a nest. A real one.»
The words hit like a knife to the heart and a kiss to the forehead. A nest. The most Omega thing possible. I crave it and hate it in equal measure. Fucking instincts.
«Thanks, Sammy…»
I manage, sadness and gratitude mixed badly.
He knows me. He never treats me like an Omega. He’s my family.
«Heeey, brats!»
I grin when I hear her voice at the top of the stairs.
«Charlie! Finally! Back from Nerdland?»
She called yesterday—back from a geek con nearby—and we told her to come to the bunker.
I hug her tight as she squeezes me. My adopted sister… I even let myself purr; she’s the only Alpha besides Sam I can be myself with.
She spins me around, laughing.
«Put me down, Dean!»
I laugh as I set her down. Her scent fills the room: new books, mallow, jasmine tea and pineapple.
«Sam’s out getting groceries. He’ll be back any minute.»
I grab her huge bags and gesture for her to follow.
«Oh sure… and where’s Castiel?»
She singsongs. Little shit.
«He… what does he have to do with anything?!»
I grumble as I make her coffee the way she likes it—mostly to avoid looking at her. She knows everything. She’s one of the few who knows about the imprint.
«Oh fuck, Dean! You still haven’t told him?!»
«No! I can’t! You know why!»
She huffs, taking her Darth Vader mug.
«Ooh come on! You’ve been hiding behind that excuse for what, six? Seven years? You two survived Purgatory together, reunited in a SUPER ROMANTIC way, and now that the angels fell he’s practically human! You’re out of excuses!»
I shake my head and sip my beer.
«One day I’ll rip those damn Chuck books out of your brain.»
I growl, thinking of those stupid novels about my FUCKING LIFE. At least old, crazy Chuck never wrote about our biology… Nobody knows I’m a pathetic Omega.
«Mmhh too late, big brother! And I ship you two! He’s so… adorably clueless! Like a Labrador puppy with superpowers and sexy eyes! And I say this as an Alpha judging another Alpha! And he’s not even a girl!»
I laugh, shaking my head. I adore her. I can’t stay mad.
«Sorry. Your Netflix-series dream will NEVER come true!»
She rolls her eyes, dramatic but smiling.
«Speaking of… I got you something at the con!»
She starts unloading swords, comics, figurines, stickers, pins, and then—
«HOLY SHIT CHARLIE!!!»
I jump to my feet, practically wagging my tail.
«How the hell did you get this?!»
She grins proudly and hands me a plushie. A Baby plushie. Perfect down to the last detail. My girl, in cuddle form.
«Had it made by an independent artist! Hand-sewn! So be nice to her!»
«Even the license plate is accurate! I love it!»
«Thank the artist—she’s a Supernatural fan!»
She bursts out laughing.
«She thought I was a hardcore stan… and well, I am in real life! And she was super hot!»
She raises an eyebrow with a hunter’s grin. Just like me.
Sam never tells me anything about his romantic disasters, but Charlie… Charlie’s another story.
«Spill everything! And I want details, sis!»
The entrance bell rings as we arrive.
The air smells like spices, perfect fish, shrimp, tomato, chicken marinated in mustard… my mouth is already watering.
But for once, my stomach isn’t the priority.
I look for him because my nose tells me he’s close. Ash, warm fire, autumn, home.
«Benny!»
He lifts his head and smiles when he sees me. We meet halfway and hug tight. I have to fight the urge to rub against his neck and purr in happiness.
«Mon Cher… I’ve missed you.»
He murmurs, just for me.
I nod. I’ve missed him too. Haven’t seen him in almost eight months, since the last djinn infestation in New Orleans.
But I always make Sam stop in Carencro at Benny’s place. The idiot called it “Purgatory.”
We always stay to eat. Sam lets me spend time with him even though it took years for him to trust Benny—and still not fully.
«So? What brings y’all down South?»
He asks with a smile, shaking Sam’s hand.
«Just a ghost. Basic stuff. But Dean insisted.»
I elbow Sam as Benny smirks, blue eyes sparkling.
«Sit down. I’ve got a fresh crab boil on the stove. You’ll love it, Cher.»
He winks and disappears into the kitchen.
«Really, Dean?»
Sam sighs with a smug grin.
«What?! I have no idea what you’re talking about!»
I know exactly what he means.
«You’re blushing and you smell like a pastry shop!»
«SSSH!»
I growl, glancing around.
«Oh please! You’re pathetic! A little high school crush!»
«Bullshit! He’s my best friend!»
«Sure. And he’s been in love with you for years.»
«Stop, Sam!»
He raises his hands, surrendering. But I know he’ll resume acting like a nosy aunt at Christmas dinner.
«You know, if you want—»
There it is.
«Sammy. No. Enough.»
I shut him up right away.
«If it’s about Castiel—»
«SAM! NO!»
I don’t want to ruin the moment. I just want… to enjoy today. Good food, Benny’s cooking, beer shared later when it’s just the two of us.
He nods as my soured scent warns him to stop. No arguments.
--
Sam is already at the motel. Purgatory is closed for the night. It’s just Benny and me.
The light is dim, the beer cold in our hands.
We sit shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence.
Like in Purgatory—without the monsters.
I’ve told him everything that happened lately. The Mark of Cain, getting rid of it, that bastard Metatron, what he did to Cas.
He listens like always. Without judgment. He tells me about reconnecting with his niece, how she accepted him as a second father.
I’m so damn happy for him. He’s not alone anymore. Not the way we used to be.
«Your angel still hasn’t figured it out, huh?»
He asks after my latest rant.
«Hell no. He never will… You saw how he thinks… or how he doesn’t feel shit. Literally.»
I sigh like a miserable teenager and curl against him. He hugs me gently, supporting me the way only he can.
«It’ll come, Cher. He has his own way of loving you. He doesn’t know how. But he’ll understand.»
«I don’t know, Benny… I’m losing hope.»
«Almost.»
«Yeah… almost.»
I smile and let myself purr quietly. With him, I can. With him, I’m just Dean.
«It’ll be alright. I’m always here for you. You know that, right?»
I look into his eyes and smile. He has this power.
«Yeah… and I’m here for you.»
He kisses my forehead. With the tenderness of a brother, of a friend who watched me rise from the mud. Of someone who loves me without asking for anything.
Because Benny is like that. He never asks for anything. Never. And that’s exactly why I love him.
When we say goodbye, I notice one of his shirts hanging by the door.
While he sets the alarm, I take it and hide it under my jacket. The bunker is too far from here, and I need Benny.
At least his scent.
I wake up yawning, confused, sore in the most delicious way. I’m naked and resting my head on my Alpha’s chest. Last night was wild. Sure, he replenished me with grace, but everything else he did was… definitely not restful!
I purr happily and curl closer to Castiel as he wraps an arm around me and kisses my forehead.
I sigh, closing my eyes again.
The whole room smells like sex, love, warmth, rain and apples. And around me are all the scents and objects that carried me through the last thirty years:
- A worn pillow full of love.
- A ridiculously soft blanket that smells like home.
- A silly plushie I hug in my sleep.
- A stolen shirt kept like a relic.
Without all of them, I wouldn’t be here. In the center of my nest—my nest that cost me my sanity and years of denial. And I’ll keep denying it. I already know.
But not now. It must be dawn, and I’m in my Cas’s arms while he holds me close.
And I couldn’t ask for anything more.
«Rest, Cas… it’s just dawn.»