A/N: Because I was late for the last update, I'm posting this one earlier ;)
THANK YOU to the ones who reviewed on the last chapter, I'm sorry I couldn't respond to them though. I hope you guys aren't mad.
LeonoreSun, Guest, steelcandy, babyreaper, need2no
Fields Of Jasmine
Chapter 7 ~ Sioux Falls
A couple of days later, Sam was back on his feet. He was showered and shaved. He wore clothes that didn't stink. His face looked a bit fuller again and had more color. Even the dark circles around his eyes had nearly vanished.
Despite the fact that he was moving around, he didn't talk a lot. But it was obvious that he was thinking non-stop, his mind permanently somewhere else it seemed.
Currently, Sam was stuffing some of the clothes Amelia had organized for him into his back pack in his bedroom. He gathered his one and only pair of boots – which were also secondhand – and put them on. They were a bit too small though, but Sam wouldn't complain. After all he just had to wear them from the apartment to the car. Then he could pull them off and he'd put them on again when they'd arrive at the Salvage.
Dean had told him that he'd stay with him and not with Bobby. It was the only logical solution after thinking a bit more intensively about it. Because there was still the fact that they were hunters and that Bobby had a whole lot of things in his house that weren't meant to be seen by someone who hadn't dealt with true evil yet. Spell-books. Ancient books about demons and other creatures. Ingredients, used to summon things, or other stuff.
Things the omega didn't need to know about. At least not yet. Maybe when he'd gotten around or something, they'd tell him. Let them know what they were doing.
Bobby had left yesterday to clean Dean's cabin up and prepare it for the omega's arrival. It wasn't like he didn't want Sam to be with him in the BIG house, but Dean was right. It was too dangerous to leave him strolling through the library or attic on his own. Or when he'd catch conversations between Bobby and another hunter, telling him how to get rid of the THING.
Bobby wouldn't pry. So he told him he'd find a bed for the unused room in Dean's cabin, so that the both of them had a bed and that Dean could keep his room. He'd also take a swipe through the ex-hunter's house and remove everything that could look suspicious to the omega.
If he hadn't already an inkling about it yet. After all he'd been captured by vampires for close to a year. Though Sam hadn't mention THAT TOPIC once to anyone. He had lived with Bobby and Jim in his house for two weeks ... But Sam hadn't said a thing or asked something weird. Hell, he didn't even look funny at them. Even after catching Bobby while talking to a fellow-hunter about werewolves. At least Bobby had been positive that the omega must've heard something from their conversation.
Dean packed the rest of the food from the fridge into a plastic bag to take it with them, while he had a watchful eye on Sam through the open door.
When they had gathered all their belongings and Dean had stored everything in the Impala, he went back up to get Sam, where Amelia had arrived a few minutes ago to pick up the apartment's keys.
"You ready to go?" he asked as he reentered the apartment, turning the Impala's keys over his pointing-finger.
Sam nodded.
Amelia took a step back from the omega, her hand slipping from his shoulder. She only met Dean's gaze briefly as he handed her the keys.
They said their goodbyes then. Amelia locked the apartment up after Sam and Dean left it and was on her way again.
Sam followed Dean wordlessly over the street, waiting on the passenger's side for the ex-hunter to unlock it. Dean gestured to him that he should sit in the front and not in the back, where he had intended to sit.
Their drive back to the Salvage was rather silent. Dean tried to make random small talk, but Sam only gave short answers like yes and no and a lot of maybes.
They were an hour away from the salvage now. Dean glanced at the passenger's seat every now and then, catching glimpses of the curled up man in it, whose forehead rested against the window.
"You ain't very talkative, are you?" Dean finally decided to push it a bit. He huffed out an embarrassed laugh. "Don't you ... I don't know ... Maybe you don't wanna be here?"
Sam's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "No - No. I like to be back in Sioux Falls," he said, his voice hoarse from not using it. "It's nice there. Thank you." There was a glint of a smile as he looked over at the driver.
Dean hummed curiously.
"It's just ..." Sam sighed, training his gaze back out of the window, his smile disappearing again. "I ... I'm kind of surprised that you're takin' me in." A part of him truly was. "That even anyone came ..."
The Winchester frowned. "I kinda had to." Somehow this worked better when neither of them talked. Somehow, just looking at each other made things easier.
Then there was silence.
Some more silence.
"It's weird," Sam stated, his lips in a tight line now. "When I'm with you ... it feels good and ... I feel kinda safe ... and it's ... it's just weird." He paused. "I shouldn't feel like I know you. Because I don't know you at all."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Me too." He bit his lower lip.
"Maybe we've met some time and I just can't remember ..." Sam whispered, obviously having thought about it too.
"I'd remember you if we've ever met, kiddo." He breathed in the warm air along with the omega's scent flooding the car. Despite that he had hated it weeks ago. That he had scrunched up his nose at it. It felt reassuring now.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
They drove in silence then until they reached the Salvage. Dean pulled up in front of Bobby's house and killed the engine then, glancing at the passenger beside him.
"We're here," Dean said softly.
Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, looking out through the windshield, as if he had just woken. He glanced over at the ex-hunter.
"You don't need to ... I mean. You guys already did enough. You don't have to take me in." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say exactly. He just wanted them to know that they didn't have to feel responsible for him in any way.
"We don't need to. But we want to, Sam," Dean said right away, catching the omega's gaze for a split second, his hand already reaching for the handle to open the car's door.
When it creaked open, Sam followed his example, shuddering at the cool air. It was definitely cooler over here than in Columbus. He walked around the car to the trunk and waited there patiently until Dean had stretched and limped around to where he stood.
The ex-hunter popped the trunk open and Sam instantly grabbed his back pack and the duffel Dean had brought along and slung both over his brought shoulders. Dean looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything and took the plastic bag with the left-over food.
Dean took the lead around Bobby's house towards its back, where slowly but surely a smaller house was revealed. There was a porch, a heavy looking front-door, two big windows on either side of it. It looked nice. Real nice.
When they entered, they got welcomed by a draft of warm air and the smell of Spaghetti Bolognese and Noodles and noises from the kitchen which had to be to their left.
Sam followed Dean warily, looking around the common room which had to be the living room. There was a giant old couch, a TV and a small fireplace. There were a couple of pictures on the walls and a sawed off shotgun.
Two doors were on the wall to his right and an open broad archway was to his left - The kitchen.
Dean shed his jacket and boots and put the plastic bag on the ground, completely unaware that the omega stood there frozen. Not quite sure what to do, or where he was supposed to go.
Just when Dean turned around to tell him to follow, he noticed that a pair of big hazel-eyes were staring at him insecurely.
"Put the bags down and get some grub," he said thoughtfully. "Bet Bobby made my favorite sugo." A cocky smile crawled over the older man's features. He leaned forward a bit. "He was the perfect housewife in his past-life." Dean winked at Sam.
Sam's lips curled into a grin and did as he was told.
He then followed the ex-hunter into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks right beside the table. Just then he realized that he did not only have issues when it came to leaving his apartment.
All of a sudden he felt utterly insecure and misplaced. He didn't belong in that apartment. He didn't belong here either.
And then everything went to hell. A sudden tightness enclosed his chest. Sam could hear the blood roar in his ears, growing louder by the passing moment and swallowed every other noise around him. His heart sped up rapidly and hammered against his chest.
What had he thought about coming back here in the first place? What had he believed the change of his surroundings would do?
Then there was a hand on his shoulder. A second one on his other shoulder. They gripped him tight, as he pulled in a strangled breath, his throat closing up on him, not letting enough oxygen into his lungs.
"Sam." Dean held him by his shoulders – tightly – trying catch the man's gaze. But he was staring through him, focusing on something far far away. "Sammy. What is it?"
His father had originally taught him that he would have to slap a panicking person across the face. Which he had actually done before. But he didn't think it was the right way to snap the omega out of it. Not when he thought of what he hand endured.
The ex-hunter pulled his hands away and cupped Sam's face in them, rubbing his thumbs over the younger man's cheekbones.
"It's fine, Sammy," Dean whispered softly, stepping closer. "Whatever you think you're seeing it ain't real. You're at the Salvage. With me. And Bobby. You know Bobby, right?"
Sam brought his hands up, wrapping his long fingers around Dean's wrists. "Please ..." he whimpered.
"Everything's okay. Nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? We'll get through this. We'll show you. You'll be okay." What else was he supposed to say? To tell him? What was he supposed to do? Well, he knew what he liked to do: Wrap himself around that giant guy, tug him close and hush him. But that wouldn't be appropriate. After all he didn't know him that well - Besides ... Sam didn't know him either.
He had said it himself in the car while they had been driving here. Sam wouldn't want him to do that and the possibility that it'd make things even worse was omnipresent.
"Bobby, you've got his room ready?" he asked over his shoulder.
Robert Singer, who stood there, a spatula in his hand watched the two men, shocked. Frozen for a moment. "Sure thing, son. Better you get him there ..." he answered.
Dean let go of the younger man and manhandled him out of the kitchen, through the living room and through the door to his left.
To his surprise, he found a closet at the wall which parted his room from Sam's and a single queen in the middle of it. Dean urged the younger man further into the room and towards the bed, where he pushed him down into a sitting position after removing the thick comforter covering it.
He made Sam roll on his side, facing away from him, while he stroke his head fondly. "It's going to be okay." Dean started to stroke his back in tender rhythmic circles. "You're safe."
But it wouldn't work – not at all. So Dean did the only thing he could think off – what he had watched in a documentary about abused omegas (just because he'd been bored and there wasn't anything better on.) a week ago. He made Sam inch further into the middle of the bed and slipped in behind him. Dena then wrapped his arms around the omega and draped his arms so, that he was covering most of the scrawny guy's torso.
"You gotta trust me on this," he murmured and willed himself to tug Sam as close as humanly possible.
The omega was trembling violently in his grasp, his hands frantically searching for something to hold onto until they found Dean's lower arms. Long fingers encircled them, holding onto them so tight.
Dean didn't even flinch. He just let him.
Finally, mercifully, Sam's breaths started to become more regular and even, drawing in deep long breaths and got replaced by weeping and sobbing and hiccups.
The ex-hunter's grasp lessened slightly, but he kept on holding him.
He wasn't quite sure if he was supposed to say something at all, or if it was necessary to. He decided to go with the flow and keep his mouth shut. So he just kept on holding him, rubbing with his thumb circles into the man's front.
Sam fell asleep minutes later, his fingers uncurling and slipping to the mattress. When Dean was sure, that the omega was out cold, he wiggled his arm out under him and stood up. After eyeing the man once more, he draped the comforter over him and left, leaving the door to the bedroom wide open.
"He's asleep," Dean muttered hoarsely as he spotted Bobby on the couch. He brushed with his hand through his short spiked hair as he added a deep sigh.
"Wasn't a very good start," the gruff mechanic picked up a bottle of beer from the table, uncapped it, and handed it to Dean.
He answered with taking the bottle and huffing out a laugh. "No ..."
"You've a clue what triggered it?" Bobby asked thoughtfully.
Dean shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe too much too fast? Maybe I should've told him you've been here and that he should get some rest first."
Bobby huffed out a breath. "You think I should go?" He didn't look up at Dean, but the alpha could tell that it would bother his old friend if he'd say he should.
"Nah - Stay. You cooked Pasta. We'll eat it later." He winked at him and slumped down on the couch beside Bobby, throwing his feet onto the coffee-table.
"Good." And Bobby wouldn't say any more.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Sam came out of the bedroom two hours later. His hair ruffled and the imprint of his pillow on the left side of his face. He rubbed over his face as he patted into the living room and rubbed his face again, looking around.
There was no way this guy didn't have a bathroom, right? After all there had to be one – Unless Dean was a naturalist and loved to do his business outside ...
This was ridiculous. He just had to ask ...
"Hey, Sam." It was Bobby.
The omega's head snapped up, blinking at the grizzled mechanic sleepily. "Hey," he murmured.
"You're feel better, boy?" The man actually smiled at him, and was acting as if he didn't just have a mental breakdown.
Sam nodded, offering a polite smile. "I ..." He looked aside embarrassed. "I ... I need a bathroom?" It was formulated like a question instead of an assessment.
"Sure." Bobby pointed at the door beside the room he had woken up. "In there to your left."
He gave him a nod and went to take care of his business. When he came back out, there were voices in the kitchen. Definitely the alpha and Bobby and the unmistakable noises of crockery.
Sam patted over into the kitchen and stopped in the archway, watching the both of them silently.
When Dean turned around, he smiled at him briefly, before he put the pot in his hands onto the table. Bobby came with another pot and placed it in the middle of the table too.
"Food's ready." Dean patted with his hand on a chair, right beside the one he was about to sit down.
Sam followed the invitation and sat down too, staring at the plate before him and then at the beta and Dean as he watched them filling their plates.
Sam took in a deep breath. The food smelled like heaven. Specially the red sauce.
"Dig in, kiddo." Dean shoved the pot with noodles and the sugo towards him.
His shoulders slumped a bit at the order and it looked like he tried to make himself appear smaller than he actually was.
Sam eyed it for a moment and then checked on the plates of the others, calculating how much he was supposed to put on his own. He chose to take a spoon of noodles and two of the sugo.
Bobby and Dean stole glances at Sam, watching carefully how much he took and how he looked when he took his first fork full.
Neither of them thought that Sam'd say if he didn't like the food. He hadn't before at least. So they figured that they had to watch him to get to know what he liked and what he didn't like.
"Thanks.", Sam murmured before he took his first bite.
It tasted delicious. Hell – he hadn't have something like that in a lifetime.
Dean smirked at the dreamy expression that spread over the omega's face, took in the change of his scent with each breath and felt his mind settle down with the reassurance of having done something right.
When they were done, Sam helped Dean with the dishes.
"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Dean asked softly. "Not that you need to tell me - I'd just like to know. Did I do something wrong?"
Sam stole a glance at him and shook his head. "I don't know why. It was just ... It happened."
Dean watched Sam from the corners of his eyes, weighing if he was telling the truth or not.
"Bobby's a great cook." Sam smiled a bit, feeling the man's gaze on him.
The grizzled hunter knocked against the wood of the archway to get the men's attention. "I've gotta go. Jim called."
Dean turned around, eyeing the old man suspiciously.
"There was a similar case two states over ..." Bobby started to explain, but stopped himself and nodded towards Sam who was completely taken in by his task of drying the plates and pots. "... Car crash with damaged engine. Looks like it got ripped apart from the inside out. Wants to know if we wanna help and fix it."
Dean stole a glance at the back of Sam's head before he nodded absently. "Good thing we got the other fire-bird in time." He smiled a bit. "You're callin' me, right?"
Bobby gave him another nod. "See ya' boys."
Sam turned around halfway and gave him a friendly smile. "Until later." he locked his gaze with the mechanic's for a brief moment before he turned back around.
Car crash was meant to be a case. Damaged engine usually meant that there was one or more deaths. Fire-bird mostly meant victim or witness.
So that was that. There was another case like Sam's. Two states over. Only that one was dead – ripped apart from the inside ... Maybe there was more about the omega than it had looked like at first. Maybe the vanishing of the nest wasn't because they were that good in hiding away from hunters.
Dean turned back around again with a thoughtful expression and helped Sam with the rest. When they were all done and the ex-hunter had stashed the two pots in the cupboard beside the sink, he cleared his throat.
All of a sudden his mind was blank again. Not sure what to say. What to do. How to act towards the omega.
His gaze darted from Sam into the emptiness of the room and back at Sam. "So ..." he finally spoke up, his gaze wandering over the appearance before him. "... You've got something in mind? I mean ... I've DVDs and ... well ... more DVDs." He chuckled nervously.
Sam looked everywhere but the ex-hunter, his cheeks tainted a slight red. "Um ... I ... I don't know," he murmured. "What do you have in mind?" Now he looked up. His huge eyes so innocent.
Of course the omega had to throw the ball back at him. Couldn't be any other way, right?
Dean bit his lower lip unconsciously, not really knowing what to say or do ... After all the omega was HIS guest. He should've come up with a plan about the "what-to-do-when-he's-here".
His face lit up with an idea. "I could show you around."
Sam smiled friendly at him, though he seemed reserved about it. "That'd be nice."
"Well ... My house's not that big. So ... The room you woke up is yours - Right besides mine if you need something at night." he gestured towards the closed door beside Sam's room. "We've got only one bathroom in here, so ... if you've to go you'll have to use that one. Should I show you?" Of course the man's words were dripping with uncertainty.
Sam shook his head. "No. Bobby showed me already." He held the ex-hunter's gaze.
Which made Dean a bit insecure and nervous. Feeling the omega's eyes all over him, drinking him in in that shy kind of look.
"Good. Living room." He nodded towards the couch. "Kitchen." He nodded towards the sink and oven. Right when the words had left his mouth, he could've smacked himself, since it was obvious that THIS was the kitchen and that the other room was the living room. Sam wasn't stupid. He surely knew what a kitchen looked like. "You wanna go outside? I'll show you the rest of Bobby's property. So ... If you'd need anything I could show you how to get to the garage ... When I'm not home or something."
Sam looked up surprised at "not home". Of course the alpha wouldn't stay with him all the damn time. After all he had to go to work, had to earn money. Of course he would have time to himself and things ... It wasn't like he was a kid anymore, was he?
"Yeah?" It came out shakier than it was supposed to.
"Good ..." More awkward silence. "Then ... lets get dressed?"
It was like Sam was waiting for him to take the lead. So he'd take the lead.
Before the ex-hunter could blink, Sam was off to squeeze his giant feet into his too small boots and get dressed into the only jacket he owned. It was more of a between-seasons jacket than a proper coat for that kind of the year.
Dean had noticed this earlier already, but he figured it'd do until they'd get out to buy him something new. Besides, he had to wait for his next wage to be able and go out shopping with the tall man.
Sam shifted where he stood, visibly uncomfortable about something. But he kept that friendly smile on his face, so Dean didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it and as soon as they've left the house it was forgotten again.
Dean cut back his tempo as they walked across the yard, passing high stacks of wrecked cars, whenever Sam walked slower. The omega looked around as if to memorize every single wreck and what direction they took.
Besides ... he was walking funny, as Dean had to notice when they were about five minutes into their walk. He eyed Sam curiously from the corners of his eyes as they continued their walk.
Actually it was a nice day. The sky was blue and the sun was up. Though it was a bit chilly and the wind blew cold air into their faces.
They soon arrived at the garage, which looked more like the mixture of a barn and a brick building. The roof looked desolate and the giant front door was secured with a thick chain and a padlock.
Sam shivered as another gust of ice cold wind blew against his broad form. He stuffed his hands into the pockets and curled them into tight fists, trying to keep his fingers from freezing into stiff sticks.
Dean told him some more about the yard while they stood there in the coldness, but Sam's mind started to freeze at least as violently as his body did.
The ex-hunter eyed him suspiciously, well noticing that Sam was cold. "Guess we'll head back. Don't want you to get sick huh?" He smiled, but it wasn't an honest smile. They shouldn't have gone out here without Sam having proper clothes.
Sam only nodded, his lips quivering, his cheeks and the tip of his nose tainted in a deep red.
Actually, Dean had kind of waited for the omega to tell him that he was cold and that he wanted to go back. But he hadn't. What meant for Dean that he'd have to have a close watch over Sam. If he wasn't saying what he wanted or needed and if he couldn't talk for himself, it'd be a problem. He wouldn't know what was okay to do and what not. He wouldn't know what'd set him off, nor if it'd be okay if he'd take Sam out for shopping.
The omega could end up with another panic attack in the middle of Walmart or Bobby's Groceries or preferably in between one of those in the middle of the shopping center where he'd have no chance to get Sam out within minutes.
So yeah. It was important to know what Sam wanted, liked, preferred and what made him feel uneasy and uncomfortable.
Dean decided that this wasn't a topic for today. After all Sam had just returned to the Salvage and found himself in an unfamiliar place. It'd take time to warm up anyway, so the ex-hunter figured it wouldn't be that bad if he'd try to buy the Sasquatch clothes and let him try them on. After all he could give them back or change them the next day.
Sam swallowed a groan, as his toes got squeezed together inside the tight boot once again, trying desperately to hold the alpha's pace despite his hurting feet. And that only after half an hour of walking and standing.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the back of the alpha's house. The Winchester was about five feet ahead, sunken in thoughts as it seemed. Or he felt as cold as Sam and wanted to get back inside desperately.
Once back in the cabin, Sam hurried up to get out of his boots – it was quite a battle, since it seemed easier to get into them than getting them off again. Sam balanced on one of his feet as he worked on the damn boot, while Dean had his kicked off already and was slipping out of his jacket.
He eyed the omega curiously for a long moment.
"Hey - Why don't you sit down on the couch? It's a lot easier if you do it while you sit."
Sam glanced up through long bangs, stilling his struggle and nodded. He limped over towards the couch and sat down on it, feeling the alpha's curious gaze on him all the way there.
"Looks like they're too small, huh?" Dean watched him further, until the boots were finally gone.
Sam didn't wear socks. Because he didn't own a pair. So the alpha was capable of seeing the red marks on his toes, soles and bridges of his feet. His eyes narrowed and his gaze darted from the taller man's feet to his face, which was hidden by the hazelnut-brown bangs of hair.
"That your only pair?" he asked after a moment of thinking and chewing his lips.
Sam gazed up and nodded, embarrassed.
Dean blew out a sigh and nodded. "Fine - Guess we've to buy you a new pair, huh?"
Sam shook his head. "No - It's fine. I've those. They're okay."
Dean huffed out a breath. He could tell that Sam probably meant what he said, but the strong stench of distress was palpable in the room. "They're so not okay. You can barely walk with them. They're way too small, kiddo. - And your jacket? It's too cold for it already. You can't go out there like this. You'll catch a cold or worse."
Sam's lips still quivered from the chilly air. He bit down on them, but couldn't stop the chatter of his teeth either by doing so.
"I can't pay you," Sam said softly.
Dean didn't answer, because he didn't know what to say to that. He had been the one who'd picked Sam up. He (and Bobby) had wanted him to come back to Sioux Falls with them. He was responsible for the omega now. What also meant that he'd have to provide not only a roof over his head and food, but also proper clothing and shoes.
There was a beat of silence.
Sam wouldn't look up at the alpha.
Dean stared at him though as if to demand some kind of retort. Anger was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. But not because the omega wouldn't say anything. Because he'd take whatever he'd get – obviously without complaining.
Hell, the guy would high likely wear a tutu if he'd tell him to.
What made him feel even angrier.
Sam rubbed homely and slow over his thighs, as if he didn't want Dean to know what he was proposing with it.
But Dean wasn't stupid. He knew exactly that Sam was trying to warm his – from the cold – burning muscles up.
"I'll go get us something warm to drink," he mumbled to himself with an added sigh before he turned around on the spot and headed into the kitchen.
To his surprise, Bobby had thought about everything. And when Dean thought everything, then he meant EVERYTHING. There was even apple-cider in the fridge, which he only had to warm up and spike with a shot of bourbon and sugar.
Sam still looked miserably cold when he came back into the living room. The man had his bare feet tugged underneath him as he sat in a kneeling position on the couch. When he looked up at the emerging ex-hunter, he took exquisite care that his hair was covering the disfigured half of his face. Sure Sam knew that he couldn't hide the scar completely, but he could at least try.
Dean sat down beside him and held the mug towards the omega, who took it with a murmured "Thanks".
Sam breathed the steam which rose from the smelling liquid in and found himself surprised that there was – beside the sweet scent – also alcohol involved. Though he wasn't sure if he'd like it. After all he had no clue what he had preferred before he let them poke around in his head and during his time with Henry and the others, he hadn't have fancy things to eat or drink.
Ever so carefully he sipped at the mug and his eyes widened in surprise when the first touch with his taste buds sent sparkles right up into his mind, drawing a moan from his throat.
Dean chuckled and took a long gulp himself. Not bothering about the warmth, nor the burn of the alcohol in his mouth and throat. "That's good." He groaned.
Sam leaned back a bit, visibly relaxing, cupping the warm mug in between his hands. "That's good," Sam repeated, his voice full of wonder. "What's that?"
"Apple cider, sugar and a shot Bourbon." Dean smiled warmly at the omega and himself. "Nice, isn't it?"
"Very nice," Sam had to agree and took another careful sip.
Dean smirked. "So .. .about the other thing - I thought you maybe wanna come with?"
Sam stole a curious glance at the older man. "Where?"
"Shopping. There's a mall where we'd get everything you need. If you want to?" He watched the omega closely, trying to tell if he was going to say yes because he really wanted to, or because the omega thought Dean wanted him to say yes.
Sam seemed to think – for a very long minute.
"You could also stay here if that's okay with you? I mean ... It won't take long. Two hours or three tops." The ex-hunter decided to release the guy. After all he didn't need to come with. At least not yet. But he sure as hell needed some more clothes. Specially a warm jacket and boots, maybe even slippers for inside and definitely a bunch of socks and underwear.
Sam seemed to be relieved at the suggestion. "I'd stay here – If that's okay?" He looked over at the ex-hunter, withstanding the urge to brush his hair back to get a better look at the man's facial expression. "I won't touch anything."
Dean chuckled again, trying to hold the omega's gaze but Sam trained his look into the mug of steaming liquid.
"You can touch everything - Just not my closet and wallet." Of course Dean didn't think that Sam'd go and rummage through his clothes or would take something from his wallet. It was meant as a joke, but the omega obviously didn't seem to get it, because he looked a bit stricken all of a sudden.
"Just a joke, kiddo." He sighed. "I know you won't go on my stuff - But I mean it. What's mine is yours too. You wanna watch TV, you watch TV. You wanna switch the radio on, you do it."
Sam sniffled at the mug and stole another glance at the ex-hunter.
There was complete silence until Dean switched the TV on and thrust the remote into Sam's hands telling him to look if he'd find something he'd like to watch.
Sam did.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Dean waited for Sam to be done in the bathroom and then got a shower himself. Though he didn't dress in his pyjamas just then (besides, he didn't really own pyjamas. It was more like worn out shirts and sweatpants he was used to sleep in).
They said their good nights and while Sam went into his bedroom with a book about history, Dean slumped down on the couch and continued to watch Knight Rider, his phone by his side so he wouldn't miss Bobby's call or message which'd tell him to come over.
An hour later, Dean had drifted off to sleep, the silenced phone he held loosely in his right hand seized up and started to vibrate to the tunes of Thunderstruck. He was awake the very next second and his eyes snapped open.
First he blinked, not really knowing what had woken him, but the very moment he felt his phone vibrate he gripped it tightly and pressed the call-button without realizing it. Dean's eyes fluttered shut again, but he guided the phone to his ear and listened.
His mind still clouded by the fine tendrils of sleep, he hummed into it when a gruff voice was heard and told him to come over. That Jim was there and that they had to talk.
Dean hummed again and let his hand with the phone sink back on the couch, smacking his lips. He tipped his head back and rolled it in a half-circle to loosen his stiff muscles, before he opened his eyes again.
The ex-hunter drew in a deep breath along with the scent of the omega and couldn't stop a pleased moan rolling from his throat. The man's odor was intoxicating, dammit. Not that he bothered in any way.
This was Sam. HIS Sam. - Well, not exactly. But as long as he'd stay with him he'd be his.
"What the hell?" he groaned and shook his head as if to clear his mind and get those ridiculous thoughts out of his head. Sam wasn't his – nor was he anyone else's. What was he even thinking?
Dean pried his eyes further open and looked around, his gaze getting caught at the door to Sam's room. He immediately noticed, that the lights were out inside and the door closed.
So he groaned as he rose from the couch, ignoring the protesting pinch in his right hip and knee when he did so. It hurt. He knew it wouldn't stay with the pinches. It'd increase.
He blew out another curse as he finally managed to stand up straighter and made his first step away from the couch. His leg gave in a bit. He cursed again.
Dean had forgotten about taking the vicodin with dinner. Now his leg was having its revenge. He made another couple of steps and finally arrived in the kitchen, instantly reaching for the cupboard above the sink where he searched blindly for his pills, knocking the salt and pepper over and dusting the counter with it.
"Fucking shit," he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself off of yelling. Finally he found the small round bottle of pills and without looking at the label, he shook one of the pills onto his palm.
Dean swallowed it dry. Soon it'd kick in – hopefully. He wasn't interested in a whole night of pain. Not knowing how to lay in his bed. Not knowing if he was supposed to turn left or right or stay on his back.
The ex-hunter stuffed the bottle into the front-pocket of his jeans and limped back into the living room, where he took his jacket from the coat hanger. Dean made his way towards Sam's room after a short moment of hesitation and nudged it open a bit further, lurking inside.
The omega lay on his side, curled up on himself under the covers.
Dean couldn't hide the satisfied smile on his lips – not even if he had wanted to.
Content about it that Sam was fast asleep, he left his cabin and made his way to Bobby's house, which he entered without knocking, where familiar voices led him straight into the kitchen.
"Hey," Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Both men looked up at him. Bobby was sitting at his table. Jim was seated on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hands. He didn't look good – as if he hadn't slept in a couple of days.
On the coffee table was an opened folder, on top a couple of cut out articles from newspapers. He slumped down in the recliner on the opposite side of the couch and sighed heavily.
"So ... that's not just some one-time-freaky-vamps kidnapping an omega. It happened before?" Dean eyed the both men curiously.
Bobby nodded.
Jim cleared his throat.
"It's been goin' on since quite some time. I've found about twelve similar cases over the past seven years," Pastor Jim explained calmly.
"Survivors?" Dean trained his gaze at the Pastor.
Jim shook his head and bowed forward over the open file from where he took out a stack of pictures. He laid them out on the small table, showing them to Dean.
"All dead. Ripped apart. Their intestines all over the place," he kept on telling. "Different population levels. Different ages. Different states. Alphas, Betas and Omegas."
Dean inched closer to the table to get a better look at the photos. "But all female," he murmured absently. "Sam's not though." He looked up to meet the pastor's gaze.
"Not completely at least." Bobby threw in from the offside.
Both men whipped their heads towards him.
Then there was thoughtful silence.
"You're right ... he's not," Jim muttered.
"So ... how come you think that Sam's a surviving vic of whatever's goin' on?" That about summed it up for Dean. "I'm sure they didn't mistake him as female, huh?" He grinned. "They gotta be blind otherwise."
What actually made him think about something else too. "How many of each?" he asked curiously and turned his attention back at Jim.
Bobby's eyebrows rose. "Alphas, Betas and Omegas you mean?"
"Yep." Dean pulled the file from the table and seated it into his lap where he started to skip through it.
He then gathered the photos and snatched a pen from Bobby's desk, starting to mark the photos with As, Bs and Os and the dates they had been found killed. It took him a total of nine minutes to do so. Then he laid the pictures on the table again.
"They first tried it with an Alpha." He pursed his lips, taking in the crime-scene-photo closely. The female red-head alpha was found in a back-alley. Her guts everywhere. "Her heart's missin'. They didn't find her liver either," Dean murmured absently. Then he skipped further through the file, stopping at the autopsy report of the next victim. A petite small blonde girl. A beta. He went through the other ten. The other ten were omegas. "They don't have anything in common," he spoke to himself. "What'd they have in common?"
Bobby huffed out a breath, rubbing over his face.
"Except for the way their bodies look like. - I'd think it's been a werewolf or black dog ..." Bobby adjusted his ball cap. "I wouldn't have put those cases together either. I'd think the thing's wandered off." The grizzled hunter leaned back in his chair. "But now ..."
"Now ... it's the same thing.", Dean continued. "... How'd Sam get away then? - Besides that we killed the vamp?"
"We never talked to him about it. And he never told either us nor Jody." Jim said pensively. "We didn't push it. We thought it wouldn't really matter. But now it does."
"How much time passed in between the deaths?" Dean looked up.
"About five to nine months," Jim muttered, checking the dates on the pictures.
Dean huffed out a breath. "Guess we've to talk to Sam then," he murmured, feeling pretty miserable about having to. Sam wasn't very talkative at all ... And talking about THIS would be specially difficult and maybe hurtful.
"Lucky him you guys went to check on him and picked him up.", Jim sighed. "Got him back here. Maybe that was a good thing to do."
Dean chewed on his lower lip. He so hoped Jim wasn't right. That this was just a mistake and that Sam was not involved in this in any way.
... to be continued