As soon as Dean was upstairs Sam turned towards the sink and rattles the few dishes that reside there. He might have a bit of an angry streak but he’s never been the violent type. Throwing shit around, no matter how therapeutic it might be, isn’t exactly his thing. 

Sam wants to follow Dean up the stairs and get into the shower with him. He wants to stay down here and wait till Dean comes down then explain everything. He wants to tell Dean about how he’s afraid he won’t be able to knot anyone cause he’d never done it with Jess. He wants to apologize for leaving Dean alone. He just wants things to be the way they used to and on some level he knows it never will. 

So instead of doing anything that he thinks about he turns to the sandwich fixings and starts to make their lunch. He growls low while doing it. Some small alpha part of him thought this task was menial and therefore, he shouldn’t have to do it yet his conditioning, his childhood, taught him different. Everyone chipped in. No one was exempt. When everything’s done he lays it out on the table, along with more beers, and waits for Dean to come back. 

What was he going to say to keep Dean from running out the door to escape to the car? 

The shower was exactly what he needed. Washing away all the sweat that had piled up onto him, the dirt and grease, everything was gone and down the drain. Even after he was well washed, Dean stayed in there with the heat of the shower. There were many, many times that this was the only comfort he had. He’d spent that last heat in the shower or bathtub most of the time. It was only when John could convince him to come out to eat that he left the bathroom. It was the worst heat he’d ever gone through and as far as he was concerned, it could be his last. He never wanted to experience that kind of pain again.

Before long the shower began getting cold and with a whine he pulled himself out of the shower. He dried himself off the best he could before slipping into his clean clothes. Even they weren’t exactly the best clothes he had. Stains from working on the car or killing something, rips from being tossed around or on the ground, they were comfortable and nicely worn. The shirt was the same. Stains, rips, holes, everything that made it perfectly comfortable. He raked a hand through his hair to somewhat fix it before walking out of the bathroom. He took the steps slowly, dreading whatever damn conversation Sam was going to try to bring up. If it had to do with them? Dean wasn’t going to mention it. If Sam was interested in making something work between them again, he’d have to be the one to mention it and even then… Dean was doubtful that there would ever be anything other than brothers between them. Even if the omega part of him only wanted his alpha.

"Wow. You didn’t destroy the kitchen." He muttered as he plopped down across the table. The sandwich was immediately picked up. Huge bites were taken, swallowed back with some beer. It was a back and forth motion. Bite of food, drink of beer, swallow. It took him no time to swallow it all down and lean back with a satisfied smirk across his face as he finished his beer. Two beers down and he could feel the warmth of the alcohol rolling around in his stomach.

     here is the truth of your existence ;

                    -  you are a  M O N S T E R
                    -  you are ( poιѕoɴ )
                    -  & everyone you have ever loved
                                                               will D I E !!!

                                    ( you are the flood that wiped out humanity. )


can we just focus on the fact Dean just called gay sex a sexy kind of drilling

aquariian started following you

"Now… I know you should be dead."


Sam should have been awkward but for him there was just too much to think about. The hose wasn’t empty due to the fact it was filled up with all his old anger. The resentments he had towards his father, the pain he still felt about loosing Jess was palpable and he sat with it on a daily basis. However, it had morphed into missing Dean somewhere along the line. To be honest- he always had- always held beat himself up about leaving Dean when he might have been the most needy. But there’s no going back and fixing things now was there? This was the present and Sam was going to have to make due. 

The growls are heard but instead of protesting or calling attention to them, he smiles. Shakes his mop of dark, shaggy hair. It made him want to yell at his father. Why couldn’t he have just let them be them? He runs his hands through his hair and marches in after Dean. The beer is grabbed, Sam catches the fridge door before it closes and starts making them both lunch. He wants to say something but doesn’t know how to start let alone what to say. “Look, you can use what you want, don’t exactly need my permission for that Dean but…” there it was. The fear. He might not be able to knot anyone. Maybe he was faulty. Maybe he came off the finish line half made. 

With grit teeth- like this was the hardest thing he’d ever said before- and his back towards Dean he continues. “If you want help finding an alpha during your cycle let me know. I know some good guys I’m sure would wanna help out.” Because he can’t volunteer himself. He couldn’t stand the second round of humiliation. Then again- thinking about Dean with another alpha just rubs him the wrong way.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sam." Dean finally sputtered out and stared at him in disbelief. Were they really having this conversation? Was his brother that worried about his heat? Or was this about something else? Just Sam trying to step up to be his alpha in a way. That thought was almost sweet, but before the idea of it being sweet could pass his mind he was already marking it down as controling. It was ridiculous to have this conversation with anyone. Another omega maybe, but not an alpha and most certainly not his damn brother. "Just drop it already, fuck. I have toys. I use toys. There’s nothing wrong with a fucking rubber knot, okay?" And as if the conversation wasn’t awkward enough, the mention of a rubber knot had Dean’s cheeks turning bright red.

The rest of the beer was chugged before the bottle tossed into the tash can. This… all of it… was a bit too much for him to deal with at the moment. All he wanted to do was run back outside and get back to work on the Impala. At least that way he could escape Sam’s awkward conversations. “No I don’t need any help finding someone. You know, I handled all of this just fine when you were gone. Just cause dad’s dead doesn’t mean that you need to suddenly try to be my alpha, alright? He never bothered asking about my heats or any of it. He just left me alone about all of it.” Mostly because Dean didn’t have any heats. It was John’s idea, but it had been Dean that continued to do it. A dirty hand came up to his brow to rub it before shaking his head.

"I’m going to get a shower. You can…" He trailed off as he gestured towards the food his brother was making. Here was hoping he didn’t end up burning it. "Yeah. Try not to burn the place down while I’m in the shower." Dean muttered as he started walking away. He hurried up the steps and towards the bedroom. First thing he did was grab a change of clothes and second was getting a couple of his pills, not paying too much attention to what they looked like. Different brands looked different and over the last couple years, Dean had tried almost every brand there was. Once that was finished he made his way into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, stripped completely naked and climbed into the hot spray.


Sam watches Dean while he works. It was something he’d always liked from way back as a child. Dean and Dad working on the car. He never got to, of course, it was always the two of them. Back before their futures had been assigned Dean was the one who was supposed to be alpha. It’s why Dad always put so much responsibility on him, why he always had to look after Sam. It’s why Sam was the alpha he was- more understanding, less brutal- then the rest because he knew what it was like to be second class. 

He just never thought Dean would have to go through that. The fact that he went through it alone hit Sam right in the solar plexus. There was so much guilt surrounding his abandonment leaving Dean that he can’t physically handle it right now. It’d be an overload. 

"Wait- toys?" He doesn’t want to think about whether or not Dean was lying about the heat. In a few days Sam would know anyway, they both would, but there’s that nagging feeling that hunters get. That pull towards suspicion. "No way man. You can’t use the fake stuff" but what else was Dean going to do? If he does go into heat and something does happen what is Sam supposed to do about it? He’s not exactly equipped to handle an omega in heat. He’d always left with Jess. Unable to knot she’d never wanted him there. He’d been useless. What if it was that way for Dean? “Now come inside and eat something” 

There it was, a slight alpha tone. A little bit of authority in his voice no matter how reluctant it was. 

The comment about using fake stuff had Dean pausing everything he was doing. Was it really Sam’s business what he used to get off on? Fake or real? He was sure his brother would hate to know all the alphas he had fooled around with. He might not have been in heat, but he sure as hell enjoyed it. The rag was used once more to wipe the sweat from his brow this time, though it managed to smear some grease in it’s place. He was annoyed, that much was obvious. He hated the idea that Sam dared to have any say in the matter. “Fake stuff works just as well as the real deal, Sammy. Plenty of omegas have knotting toys just in case when they can’t find an alpha.” It was always so damn awkward to talk about all of this with Sam, mostly because of their history. But Sam had let go of all his rights when he had abandoned him. It didn’t matter how long it had been, Dean still felt that pain from it.

It was the tone of voice that had the hair on the back of his neck standing and a low growl forming in his throat. Omega or not, Dean was raised like an alpha. He hated when an alpha dared to use that tone with him. It might not have been real obvious, but it still managed to get under his skin. Despite the annoyance and everything, he could  feel his stomach protesting the fight and growling. He glanced down, lips pressed firmly together, before slamming the trunk closed. Even with the pressure, it still popped open. Still not completely fixed. That was frustrating as well. The rag was tossed onto the trunk and he turned on his heels to march towards the house. The whole time a soft growling coming from the back of his throat in a quiet protest over listening.


Bobby wasn’t home. Wasn’t due to be back for at least a week. Something about helping a buddy hide a body. Dean didn’t dare to ask more questions. He walked straight into the house and through the front room until he was in front of the fridge. A beer was pulled out, cap twisted off and immediately it was being chugged. After about half of it was gone, he sat it down to take a breath and lean against the counter. Being alone with Sam wasn’t that bad usually, but it was being alone in a house where absolutely nobody else was around that did make the situation awkward for him.


So how long had it been for Dean? How long had he had to fake it to make their father proud? And that just pissed him right off. He know’s there’s no way Dean wanted to do this on his own. The guy put shit in his body every day but this? Suppressants were bad. How could he think taking them was a good idea? How could he have been pressured into- 

But if he keeps thinking about it his head will explode. So he does his best to stay calm, to rid those thoughts from his mind and just focus on what’s in front of him. Not that that makes things any better. Maybe it’d been longer for Dean then it was for Sam but hot damn he could feel the desire. Sure, Dean wasn’t in heat but Sam was still an alpha and he could smell all those damn pheromones coming off his brother. There was a thick layer of almost a plastic smell over it all but that’d clear up in a few days. It was still, Dean was still, the best damn thing he’d ever smelled. 

Trying not to stare Sam averts his eyes and sits on the hood of some junked car. “Thought you’d wanna come inside for lunch, take a break from being in the heat” word placement? Maybe. “Hey speaking of- now that Dad’s gone is there anything you want me to uh- know about- or do? Protection wise. Your next heat’s in a few days right? Should I be doing something?” 

It reminded him of Jess, having conversations with her, their first time together when Sam had tried to knot her but….he hadn’t been able to. All he’d thought about was Dean. He still got of but it wasn’t the same and she knew it. They both did. He clears his throat. 


His brother was weird. Plain and simple. How Sam couldn’t get it through his stubborn, thick head that he wanted to be left alone was beyond him. Dean wasn’t entirely sure if it was his brother or the alpha in his brother that was prying into everything. He didn’t exactly care. All he wanted was to be left alone. And to make that clear, he focused once more on the car, this time moving around to the other side to put some type of distance between them. The last thing he wanted to deal with was that sweet scent of alpha filling his senses. Surpressants or not, he still had urges and he still remembered that no other alpha he’d been with had been able to make him feel that complete. Another reason to avoid his heat at all costs.

The questions had Dean stopping at the rear of the car, leaning over to glance at his brother on the other side. “Not hungry.” He muttered, but it was the following questions that had him shifting uneasy. It was bound to come up. He had just been hoping that Sam was too focused on everything to start piecing this all together. He turned back to the car, finding it easier to lie to his brother when he didn’t have to look him in the eye. Dean might have been rebellious to the omega standards, but that didn’t mean instinct didn’t still want to roll over for a delicious alpha.

"Had it a few weeks ago." He muttered as he started trying to pull the dents out of the trunk with no luck. Some weren’t from the wreck, though. Some were from himself taking out his frustrations into the car. "Had it right before the accident. It just wasn’t very intense. Think the stress of finding that demon threw it off." It made sense. Stress effected omegas differently. It wasn’t unheard of for an omega to have a weak heat cycle due to stress. He was just hoping it was something Sam would believe. "So nothing. Besides I have my toys if it comes."