Disclaimer: Don't own, which is a good thing.
A/N: I've been going thru my fanfic and realized that there are stories that I posted over in Livejournal that I haven't posted over here. Some are short, some a little long. So I'm going to be working on posting those fics over here. And the first one is going to a a fic set in Season 6, around the time of Family Matters and deals with the Alpha vampire and his perspective on Dean.
Alpha
He bends over the sleeping human, dirty white shirt a skewed contrast to the black tee. Dark skin, old and ancient with pointed nails ghosts over the tan skin, the fine hair rising up in fright.
A shiver runs over that perfectly built frame, not too tall or skinny. Murmurings bleed into the air from the opposite bed causing the nightly visitor to freeze. The stuttering heartbeat of the younger Winchester pounds into his ears, the rotting stench of a newly restored soul making him frown. There was so much promise with that one. To have a child with no hindrance of a soul and the highly trained mind and body to match would have been a great addition to his army.
Sadly, chocolate eyes slide down to his lost child, things were not meant to be. Even in deep sleep, the eldest Winchester's face is lined with the crow's feet of worry and a permanent scowl. Running his fingers upwards, he reaches the warm neck feeling the pulse jump lightly at his presence.
Bending down, he brushes his nose against the soft strands of hair, humming ever so soft and light into the air. The pulse pitters and patters back down into a slow rhythm as Dean stretches out, his neck unfolding even more before the creature's mouth.
Smiling, white teeth shine in the glow of neon red. Nostrils flare as he breaths deeply while his hands creep onto that scared chest. The typical smells of humans are present in the spices of leather, gunpowder and smoke. Laying his hand gently, his middle fingernail grows out to fiddle with a tiny hole in the tee.
The smell of Death echoes around Dean with a bitter winter crispness. There's also a creamy scent of a Fairy's brand. Closer, is the burning stench of an angel that not only permeates the air but- He leans down, razor sharp teeth descending down, pricking into Dean's neck, the tiny bead of blood swelling into his mouth. Dean jerks but he merely pushes lightly down and the human calms down.
The angel is everywhere, his scent infused into the very physical and soulful making of Dean, as if he had reconstructed the human in this meat. But as he rolls the drop of Dean in his mouth, there is another scent. Sulfur and brimstone plague his senses, the wounds of a demon clearly having a claim on this man as well. And as the blood drips down his throat, he tastes the faintness of his second-in-command, the one who had turned Dean into his child.
Pulling back, the alpha vampire stares down at this paradoxical human if he could still be called one. There were many claims onto this body and soul and somehow this human, this Dean has been able to retain his self, that gleaming, bright hot soul that pulses beneath his hand.
A soul that had fought and not gave into the temptation that drives every creature on this planet: the desire to feed.
It makes his mouth water with hunger. He can only imagine what it might mean to have this soul at his side again. The Mother is walking now and finally there can retribution. But the Alpha vampire wonders if he can keep this one hunter.
He's peeked into this child's mind, knows of the violence and monster lurking deep in the shadows, of the buried deep blood lust. He just needs to coax it out, nurture it gently and away from the influences of Sam, Bobby and Castiel. No one else matters, for Dean is alone now, absolutely no ties except to those three. And while those bonds to Sam and Bobby are stronger than ever, the one with the angel is cracking. He knows that he can use that to his advantage, use it as leverage and blackmail because Dean won't risk Sam remembering the Cage or Bobby dying.
It's simple. Slicing his wrist with his fingernail, letting the few beads of blood well up upon his obsidian skin, he waits for the smell to permeate the air. And there it is. He can't help but smile reaching out to brush his nails through the soft locks of Dean's hair as his lost child turns his head towards the smell, unconsciously licking his lips.
Dean might have been cured, the poison and blood of his sire purging away from his body. But there are things that can't be cured, the insatiable hunger and powerful adrenaline rush like no other to name a few.
His own hunger is strong, the lust for bringing back his child making him wanting to inch the bleeding wrist over Dean's mouth. But nothing happens except three tiny red drops staining the sheet below before pulling away, healing the cut. Mother is calling him and the remaining Alpha's, her crooning song ringing loudly in his ears.
Sam stirs in his bed and the Alpha vampire knows it's time to go. He gazes one more time down at the beautiful man. Stepping up, he bends down whispering into his ear, "You'll be my son, once again, Dean. Enjoy your family while you can."
Then he steps away, melting back into the shadows of which he was born.