Due the lack of reviews I suppose this story IS crap.

I'll update anyway today.

May this chapter brings some of my followers back on track with reviewing too ... or maybe I've to get meaner and cut my chapters so that I'm leaving you guys with a cliffhanger each time ...

Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 11 ~ What Do We Live For?

Half an hour later, they lay on Sam's bed on top of the covers. Sam was snuggled into Dean's side, who was lying on his back. There would've been no other way to make both men fit into the small bed.

They didn't seem to care.

Sam had his eyes open, one hand resting on Dean's chest right above his heart, counting its beats. The alpha's body was soft and warm beside his. All muscles and tanned skin under the shirt. He felt Dean's hand against his back in between his shoulder blades, stroking him fondly.

The alpha held Sam close. He had his eyes closed, not wanting to see anything at the moment. He just wanted to feel. Feel how Sam was breathing in the same rhythm as him. Feel the rise and fall of the omega's ribcage against his.

But most of all he enjoyed that this wasn't sexual at all. A fact which surprised the Winchester enormously. After all he had been quite a slut. Yeah, slut was a pretty hard word, but it was actually true. He hadn't even a clue how many partners he had in his life so far. He had stopped counting when he hit nineteen...

He damn well never had cuddling sessions with someone else except for his pillow too. It had always been about picking a girl up and having some fun. He had never stayed long enough to cuddle though ...

Alphas – specially Winchesters – Didn't cuddle. That was a fact.

He wasn't cuddling now either. He just had no clue how else to call it YET.

A part of him was even afraid that if he'd open his eyes, that Sam'd be gone and that this was all a dream. So he kept his eyes shut and concentrated on feeling things.

When the sky outside started to grow dark, Dean roused and dared to squint an eye open for the first time since they lay there. He tilted his head to the side and squinted his second eye open to see if Sam's evened out breaths meant that he was asleep.

Sam wasn't.

"I'm startin' to get hungry," Dean whispered hoarsely, gaining the omega's attention. "And someone's gotta throw logs into the heater."

Sam shook his head no. "We've blankets," he murmured into Dean's shirt.

Dean glanced down, concerned, and he shifted a bit, pushing Sam's head up a little in the process to make him look at him.

"You haven't eaten since breakfast, Sammy," he said softly. "Can't afford you losing more weight. - You need it."

Sam didn't look convinced.

"Sammy?" It was a bit warning and had the hint of an order at its edges. He sighed. "Maybe you don't feel hungry - But I know ..." He paused, his face morphing into something honestly serious. "I know that sometimes ... when you haven't eaten in a while and ... Look, I understand, okay? But you need to, Sam. You have to get stronger. Besides, not eating doesn't solve anything."

Sam only nodded.

"Right?"

Sam nodded again.

"I wanna hear it, Sam," Dean demanded.

"Right."

"Good. So you're gonna make something to eat and I'll have a look at our heater." Dean rolled to the side and got out of bed before he could decide that Sam was right and that the only thing they needed was the blanket.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

A rusty-brown Ford van parked outside the property of Robert Singer.

According to the towns-people he was a drunk weirdo, but good at repairing cars. That was about all she had been able to learn about the grizzled hunter from the people in town.

Though there was no coming in. Wherever with the van or without it. The blonde girl had tried. Not the man-high chain-link fence was the problem. Not even the razor-like barb-wire on top of it.

It was the devil's traps and some other fancy stuff the old man had secured his property with. A normal robber wouldn't have any problems to get in there and steal stuff. But demons? Werewolves? Vamps? Other monsters? Nope, no way. Singer's Salvage was like Fort Knox against the supernatural world.

She snarled in dismay, as one of the amulets which hung from the barb-wire on top of the fence reflected the light of the setting sun directly at her. She had tried a couple of spells though, in case it was some kind of spell that secured the driveway. But it obviously wasn't. So her best bet was wherever salt or holy water ...

And even if she'd be able to get in there somehow, there sure as hell would be other traps hidden, which would stop her from getting to the omega.

"Ridiculous," she hissed, her lips formed into a thin line.

If she wasn't able to get in there, she wouldn't be able to collect what was hers - At least not until Samuel would leave the property. But so far? No such luck. Hell, she couldn't even see where in that damn house he was holed up.

She couldn't even make the house out – not to mention where they had put the omega. All she had was a damn binocular and a nightscope.

"Bastards," she ground out through gritted teeth. No matter if she liked it or not – she had to make a call. A very unpleasant one. Soon the hunter's would notice that something was off with the freak they played host for, so they'd kill him or ... well, find a way to get rid of it another way.

Either one of the possibilities would mean that she would pay dearly for fucking this up big time.

She rose the bowl of brass before her, her fingers curling around the devilish looking heads tightly. She whispered old latin words at the red liquid inside and hummed satisfied when it started to bubble.

"It's Meg. I found Samuel. Two hunters took him in. But we have a problem ..."

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Later that night – it was shy past eight -Dean and Sam were settled on the couch, the omega pressed up along Dean's side, there was a knock at their door.

The alpha groaned, not wanting to get up anytime soon, but knowing that Bobby'd only stop by (after they had already seen each other this morning), that it had to be something important.

Sam sat up faster than the alpha was able to move his aching bones, and pushed him back down gently. "I'll get the door," he said and got up.

Dean watched the slight swing of the omega's hips as he sauntered over to the front door and smirked at the association of his mind with a supermodel on the catwalk. Of course Sam didn't walk like one at all, but there were hints that reminded the ex-hunter about it.

Even though Sam was wearing loose sweatpants, and the oversized hoodie, he looked still handsome as hell.

Dean hadn't been wrong. It was Bobby and he looked troubled. The alpha sat up and his eyebrows furrowed as he watched the older man brushing past Sam and walking straight into the living room towards where Dean was sitting on the couch.

"What is it?" Dean asked, after the beta didn't start to speak.

"We've a problem." Bobby paused and nodded towards the window, into the general direction of where the driveway led out of the Salvage. "We've company."

Dean Winchester straightened up.

Sam froze right where he stood.

"What kind of company?" the ex-hunter asked immediately.

"Brown Van. One Inhabitant – as far as I can tell." Bobby gestured towards the kitchen.

Dean nodded, instantly understanding what his old friend meant and limped towards it. When he passed Sam, he brushed over his belly in an attempt to soothe him, reassure him that it'd be okay. He then went to the cabinet to the right and took out a bottle of Johnny Walker and three tumblers with which he limped back into the living room.

Sam stood still where he had stopped, his heart pounding in his chest. Another tender brush of Dean's hand against his lower back let the tenseness bleed away a bit and he followed him, sitting down on the couch again.

He felt miserable.

Downright awful. Because whoever was out there was coming for him – at least it had to be that way, right?

"You think they're comin' for Sam?" Dean sat down beside the omega and gestured to Bobby to sit down too.

The grizzled hunter took a seat to their left in the recliner. "Guess so." His expression was grim.

Dean filled the tumblers to the middle and handed everyone one. "The Salvage's secured. Whoever's out there won't be able to get in."

Sam's head whipped towards the alpha. That one he hadn't known. Dean looked back at him. "They can't get you." He smiled a bit, his free hand finding Sam's knee.

"Yeah. But the thing is. For now it's okay. But when Sam needs medical attention – or something else – just in case – we'll need to find a safe way out." Bobby said out loud. "We don't know how many are out there and what they're planning."

Sam started to feel nauseous.

"So ... no taking him out shopping." Dean pursed his lips. "Neither do we." He huffed out a breath. "First we need to know who's out there and why - If one of us leaves the Salvage they could use us to make a deal. Sam for you or me ..."

There was thoughtful silence.

"You've any idea how long?" Dean gulped down the amber liquid and filled the tumbler up again, putting it into the middle of the table.

"At least two days. Maybe longer. Looks as if they're only observing at the moment."

"That ain't good." Dean squeezed Sam's knee gently. "So we're gonna get them?"

Bobby nodded. "We're gonna get them."

The conversation flew by Sam's mind without him being able to understand. Only a few words caught in his fear-dazed mind like they're comin' for Sam? And Guess so. How many are out there. What are they planning. Using Bobby or Dean to trade for Sam.

They made up a plan of how to get the drop on them – or it – without them or it noticing.

Bobby had another glass, filled to the brim with Johnny Walker before he said goodbye to Dean and Sam.

Sam still seemed absent, even when Bobby embraced him in a bear-hug. He was saying something to Dean and the alpha only nodded.

Dean manhandled Sam into the bed in the alpha's room and went to lay beside him.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean whispered, nuzzling into the younger man's hair from behind. "We're gonna find out."

"Why not let me go?" the omega asked softly. "If they're-"

"Nope." Dean stopped him. "We're not going there." He brushed over Sam's face tenderly, feeling the soft skin and even softer stubbles along his jaw. "They can come and try to get you."

"It's dangerous," Sam whispered. "If they're anything like Henry-"

"If they're anything like Henry Savanger, they won't even notice us sneaking up on them." Dean cocked an eyebrow.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, feeling Dean's fingers flutter over his belly right above his navel. The muscles underneath gave a twitch and for a short moment he thought he could feel something shift inside of him.

"I don't want you to get hurt." The omega sighed again. "Not because of me."

"If it wasn't for you we would've never known that there's more behind a dozen of weird deaths, Sam - If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have a single surviving victim who can look into those old books trying to find the vamp's pet. If it wasn't for you getting free, we'd never know. We'd notice when it'd be already too late and we'd take off half-cocked." Dean explained calmly. "Besides ... I kinda like you, you know?"

Sam chuckled shyly. "It's more, isn't it?"

"Yeah ... it's more, Sammy," he whispered into the taller man's ear.

"Why?"

Dean didn't know why. "Fate?" He hummed. "You know that I hate omegas? At least I hated them back then. That was why I was so hard on you at first. Because you were an omega."

"And now you don't?" Sam asked tentatively.

"At least I don't hate you, baby boy." He smiled a bit, knowing that Sam knew exactly what he meant without having to say it out loud. "Can't tell about other omegas though."

"Why's that?"

"Maybe we're mates." The words were over his lips before he could think them through.

Sam blew out a breath. "Duh."

"You think?"

"I'm pretty sure of it. Can't explain it any other way." Actually it wasn't like Dean to talk like that. Opening up so easy to another person. But with Sam it was different. He had the feeling that he could tell him those things. Things he wouldn't tell anyone else without having to kill them afterwards.

Now Sam felt like a betrayer.

Dean seemed to tell him things he didn't tell anyone else and Sam had still his secrets. Maybe important secrets...

There was an outstretched episode of silence between the both of them.

"Mates have to have sex, right?" Sam was curious. "They have to be together together, right?"

"Nooo ... no." Dean choked on his words. "Hell, no, Sam. I don't think that they have to - It's up to the omega to make that choice anyway." Somehow – even when he hadn't thought about it yet (at least not that intensely) – they were far away from this part. Hell, they hadn't even kissed yet and there'd be no way Dean'd push. "Sometimes mates are just real good friends."

He wouldn't say no either if the omega'd jump him right the fuck now. If his dreams were anything to go by, it'd be amazing anyway.

"But you'd like to?" Of course Sam wouldn't stop asking questions now. "Wouldn't you?"

Dean huffed out an embarrassed breath. "No." He lied. And he knew that Sam knew that he was lying. There was no way a mate wouldn't know. Besides he could feel it.

"Liar." Sam pushed back against him. "But it's okay. I shouldn't ask you things like that anyway."

Dean hummed. "I think we should go to sleep. We've got a lot of observing to do tomorrow."

Sam hummed back at him and interwined his fingers with the ex-hunter's.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Another week passed.

They stood closer than usual. They were touching at every occasion. They stuck together except when one of them had to go to the toilet or was taking a shower.

And they hadn't kissed yet.

Sam sensed mixed vibes from the Winchester. And with each passing day, he grew more and more irritated about them. Dean was always somewhere close to him but he wouldn't try to kiss him again. There weren't even attempts.

There was a big telescope right in front of the small window on the attic. It looked old ... and rusty ... and a bit disgusting, but you could zoom in on the blonde girl in the van, so you could nearly see the hairs in her nose .. And it was a digital one. There was a screen on a small table in front of a dusty double-recliner Dean and Bobby had shoved in front of the table, so they didn't have to sprain their necks if they wanted to watch her.

It was shy before eight on a Monday morning and Sam was sitting in the recliner, his eyes half-open, watching the night-scope-version of the woman fidgeting with the radio.

He was annoyed, to say the least. Okay, it might have been only one week since they began observing her, but so far it was boring as hell. She didn't do anything, besides leaving the van four times until now – high likely to go pee.

Sam was asking himself, when she slept ... He for his part was quite tired yet.

Bobby had come home from the garage at about two in the afternoon yesterday and had went straight for the attic. The grizzled hunter had sent Dean downstairs to catch some sleep so he'd be ready for his night shift.

Though, when Bobby came down at about seven last evening, Sam had already cooked sandwiches. The older man had intended to wake Dean, who had been fast asleep since the little cuddling-session with his omega right after he had come down from the attic.

Sam could tell that Dean was hurting from the – for the ex-hunter – uncomfortable sitting-position in the double-recliner and that he was tired as hell. After all, Dean hadn't been sleeping good after the night Bobby had stopped by to tell them about their company.

The least the omega could do was to take some of the ballast from Dean and carry it himself, since the men were only in this situation because of him. So Sam had told Bobby to let him sleep and have the rest he needed to and that he'd take the night shift.

Bobby had grumbled something about Dean and that he'd kill him and stuff. But Sam didn't care. This was his shit and who else was supposed to deal with it? He could at least help and do what he could to make it easier on all of them.

Sam curled up under the blanket and tugged it tighter around his shoulders while he continued to stare at the van. Only when he heard heavy hasty footfalls coming closer and someone climbing up the chicken-ladder towards the attic, he straightened up and forced his eyes wide open so that he wouldn't look as tired as he actually was.

Though, he had imagined that Bobby'd come and that Dean was still asleep. But nope. It had to be the alpha of course. A very pissed alpha.

Dean's head appeared atop the surface with flaring nostrils.

"Holy shit, Sam," he grumbled as he made his way up. "What the hell are you thinkin'?"

Maybe because of his slowly reacting mind and because he didn't really care about anything, he answered right away with the words he was thinking.

"I was thinkin' that you need your sleep and that I could do my part in this," he answered. "And you were hurtin' and tired and I practically made Bobby let me do it."

Dean stomped towards him and slumped down next to Sam with a thud. Dean seemed rested though still sleepy as if he had just woken up.

"Bobby fell asleep too," the alpha muttered. "Guess we can't keep that schedule up ..." He didn't look at Sam.

"I'm here though, aren't I? You have her here because of me." Sam looked at him with big eyes, watching the range of emotions on Dean's face. How he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something and then closing it again.

Realization hit the omega. Hurt crept into his eyes and face. "You ... you think I can't do this, right? Because I'm no hunter, right?"

"I only think that you shouldn't do it, okay?" Now he looked over at him. Serious. Not joking at all. "I don't want you to do it. You're still tired all the time. You sleep through the night and sometimes you're too exhausted to get through the day without a nap. You think I don't see it?" He paused, watching Sam look aside, very ashamed. "You forget to eat and drink when I don't remind you. Sometimes you seem scared ... and I don't even know why." He paused again. "You're a victim and you don't put a victim into a situation like that. Not even when the victim wants it."

Dean laid his hand on Sam's thigh, but the omega pulled back.

"Look. I'm not saying that you can't do this, okay? I just want you to get better before you hop on a train with a conductor who doesn't know an emergency break. You'll exhaust yourself, Sam ..." He wanted him to understand. This was important.

Sam nodded to himself as he turned aside, hiding his watery eyes from the alpha.

"I just want to help ... I ... I don't want to be useless. I don't want to sit downstairs on the couch and watch TV or even sleep while you guys try to protect me from whatever's out there, Dean. I ... I can't watch that. Bobby's bone-tired when he comes home from the Salvage and ... and then he eats and lies down and then he goes to gets you somewhere close to midnight and ... and I can't watch that anymore. You both are exhausted. I can see it. I can FEEL it, Dean." The alpha had to understand what this was doing to him.

There was a hint of bitterness in the alpha's eyes as Sam looked up to meet his gaze, his hands trembling.

"Are you cold?" Despite the fact that Sam had pulled away earlier, he reached over and took the omega's hands in his.

They weren't cold.

Sam shook his head, averting Dean's gaze again. "No. I'm good," he answered softly. "Maybe just fatigue."

The alpha eyed Sam for a long moment. "People don't shake when they're tired, Sammy." He shot back calmly, though concerned. "C'mon. Let's get downstairs and get some food into you. You gotta watch out for yourself. Okay?" He caught Sam's gaze and the omega nodded, embarrassed.

Dean rose and bit back a groan when something in his hip pinched painfully. He still held Sam's hands as he stood up and forced himself to stand upright instead of giving into the need to curl into himself.

Sam eyed him warily as he rose to his feet. "Okay," he murmured, fighting a wave of dizziness.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to will his suddenly revolting stomach to calm down. He tightened his grip on Dean's hold.

The alpha was too busy keeping his own emotions buried to notice Sam's discomfort though.

They both made their way to the hatch in the floor. Dean started to climb down first and stopped to look up and wave at Sam to follow him suit.

Sam did. Still fighting dizziness and nausea. He could lay down in a minute. He just had to hold out a bit longer. Only a little bit. He turned around and managed to put his right foot onto the upper rung without any problems. Even his second foot found it despite the weakness, which slowly started to crawl into his limbs, turning his knees into jelly.

Dean climbed one further down, waiting until Sam's foot was safely on the next one. The alpha noticed the shakiness in Sam's body. He sensed it more than actually seeing it. It was the discomfort and unease which mixed with the omega's scent that made him alert.

"Sammy? You okay?" he asked worriedly as he set his foot further down.

Sam hadn't time to come up with an answer. Before he even realized it, black dots started to crawl into his vision and he felt himself fall before he blacked out completely.

Dean saw the omega's foot slip from the rung and before he could react and hold tighter onto the ladder, Sam's weight landed on him and sent the both of them flying backwards as the alpha's hands slipped. Instinctively, the ex-hunter tried to catch himself and fought for a moment to get his hands back onto the ladder but it was no use.

He landed in the corridor on the wooden floor – hard. Sam's weight pushing all the air out of his lungs, as the prone form landed atop of him. Fighting to get air back into his lungs, Dean's eyes teared up.

Finally – mercifully – he managed to suck in a wheezing breath which made his lungs burn awfully. "Sam," he gasped, clutching at the limp body on top of him. "Sammy."

Holy shit, that hurt. And Sam was heavier than he looked.

"Boys!" he heard a gruff voice call and heavy thumps of boot-clad feet approaching. "Shit, what the hell happened?" The older man sank to his knees beside the heap of tangled limbs. "Dean? You okay?"

Unable to get a grip on his foggy brain and form any other word than Sammy, he made a noise close to whimper.

"Boy?" Bobby asked again, utter concern in his voice and on his face.

"Sammy," he whispered instead of giving him a proper answer. "He fell."

"Took ya' with him?" Of course – how else would they have ended up like that on the floor?

Dean nodded, his hand wandering over Sam's chest, trying to search for injuries or ... whatever. Maybe he was even looking if he was still breathing.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at the unconscious form atop of Dean. "He's breathin' boy." He searched for the man's pulse. "He's okay. Pulse's a bit erratic, though."

Dean's head thumped back against the floor, his flat palm resting on Sam's stomach feeling him breathe.

"He passed out ... on his way down." Dean grumbled and winced as he tried to move.

"Whoa, boy. Stay down." Bobby pushed him back. "You could've hurt your back."

Dean glared at him. "The only thing's that hurt's my pride, old man. Get him off of me." He groaned. "We gotta lay him down somewhere. Sam didn't feel well when I came up."

Bobby nodded and lifted Sam's torso carefully, letting him rest against his front. Dean shoved himself out under the octopus-like limbs and stood up. Groaning and wincing as he straightened up and rubbed over the back of his head. There was already a lump forming.

"Fuck," he cursed.

"You sure you okay?" Bobby eyed his friend curiously, while he tried not to jostle Sam too much.

Dean growled instead of searching for words and instantly went to check on Sam's pulse again, taking him out of Bobby's arms at the first opportunity he had.

"I'll take him. Couch?" Dean was already back on his feet with the tall omega on his arms, carrying him bridal style.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Somewhere we can have a close eye on him." He sounded guilty.

They made their way downstairs without any further incidents. Bobby went straight into the kitchen, getting two glasses of water while Dean settled Sam onto the couch. The younger man's skin started to become clammy, his face was pale. Too pale.

When the grizzled hunter came back with the glasses and water, he set them on the coffee table. "Somethin' broken?"

Dean had both hands on Sam's head, searching his skull for signs of an injury but found none except for a small goose egg on the omega's temple. Dean continued to grope along Sam's jaw, neck and throat, his fingers resting on his pulse for a few minutes before he moved further down, paying special attention to Sam's arms, ribs and legs.

Then he shook his head. "Nothing feels broken," he murmured, but repeated the procedure nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, boy. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I know." Dean couldn't be mad at him. Not at all. The both of them had been exhausted and tired. So he figured this was predestined to happen at some point. And he didn't mean Sam fainting, he was talking about the both of them missing a shift. "It's okay, Bobby. It's not your fault."

The grizzled hunter made a sound which didn't sound approving at all.

"He fainted? Just like that?"

Dean nodded. "No. He was a bit shaky at first ..." He bit his lower lip, looking Sam over once more. "He shouldn't do things like that, Bobby," Dean added softly.

"He's a sneaky one, boy. He sent me lying down for an hour or so and when I woke up an angry limping ex-hunter hovered over my damn face and was yelling at me." Bobby huffed out an amused breath, though back then it hadn't been funny at all. "Guess he meant it good."

"He wanted to take care of us for once." A sigh fell from Dean's lips, as he brushed dark bangs out of Sam's face, seeing color crawling back into his face. "He doesn't want to be the one who has to be watched out for." He spoke as if he knew Sam inside out. As if – whatever the omega was feeling – he could feel it too.

Bobby vanished and came back a moment later with a blanket.

A shiver ran through Sam's unconscious form, when Dean leaned in closer and placed a tender kiss to his forehead. The alpha pulled the recliner up beside the couch and shoved the small table aside so he could be closer to Sam. He then sat down on it, his hand near the omega's cheek, running his pointing-finger along his jaw.

"You look a bit pale too, Dean." Bobby pointed out when he returned soon after with a plate of scrambled eggs, ham, bacon and three slices of toast. "You sure you didn't get hurt?"

"Nah." He waved at him. "Just my hip – ya' know ..."

Bobby nodded, but didn't seem as if he was believing him fully. "You got your pills handy?"

Dean nodded as he sat up with a wince and pulled the bottle from his jeans to show it.

"I'll let Sam's on the counter for when he wakes up. Gotta head out in twenty minutes anyway – Caleb's gonna be waitin' for me already." The grizzled hunter glanced towards the front door. "You've any clue what she is yet?"

The alpha shrugged as he washed a hand over his face. "No idea. She doesn't seem to sleep a lot though. And when she seems to, it doesn't look like the cold's bothering her at all. A human would've been frozen to death out there already. - My best bet would be a vamp."

"I see what I can do about it. Since she seems to be alone out there ..." Bobby pursed his lips. "I'll call Jody. Let her know what's going on and call her to send Jo and Caleb over. We'll get her tonight before one of us drops dead because of exhaustion." He huffed out another breath. "Ellen, Jody, Joshua, Jo and me should be enough to get that bitch down."

Dean gave him a quizzical look.

"Nope. You won't come with - You'll stay here with Sam. I bet your back's gonna be bruised to hell in a couple of hours. So do yourself a favor and get some damn pills into you and lie down." He gave him a pointing look and used this father-voice which he couldn't say no to.

At least Dean thought that this was supposed to be a father-voice. After all he only knew John's father-voice – which had been quite military and drill-sergeant-like.

Then again – he didn't want to leave Sam alone anyway.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Half past nine, someone was ringing and knocking at Bobby's door.

Dean who had been watching Sam like a hawk for the past hour and wouldn't notice anything else but Sam's even breathing, sucked in a sharp breath and practically jumped from the recliner.

The bell rang again.

The alpha gazed back down at Sam thoughtfully, not really wanting to leave his side. Though he had to get his ass moving and answer the door. Since nothing but humans could come on the Salvage, Dean figured it was safe and that it was only the postman ...

... Well, he had been right about the human-thing, but not about the postman. There was a short scrawny guy in a suit standing in front of the door, who wore dark sunglasses and held a patch right beside his face.

Counselor of the State of South Dakota

Garth Fitzgerald

His signature and some other guy's signature and the giant C and the outlines of South Dakota printed beside it.

"Garth?" Dean asked with wide eyes. "Honestly?" He had completely forgotten about the appointment with the counselor who was supposed to come by on Monday. - Well, it was Monday. And it was half past nine. And the counselor was here. But Garth? "What the hell, man?"

Dean's voice was a mixture of suspicion, confusion and surprise.

"Hey, Dean-O." He greeted the taller man with a huge grin on his thin lips. "Figured you wouldn't need some suit to check on your omega." Garth pushed past Dean and stepped into the hallway, not waiting for an invitation. He turned around once and dropped the navy-blue bag on the ground. "Thought I'd hack into the system and get your guys on my schedule after I heard about an ominous appearance of a club-manager around here and stuff ..." he explained.

"You ...?"

"Yeah. Did some research about an omega called Samuel T. Harvelle popping up in the system and read where he's from … Besides: Bobby called me short after you guys found him." Garth never failed to amaze others. No matter how lanky and naive he seemed sometimes, he was a nice guy. Sometimes too nice for a hunter - And way too small for an alpha. That guy was honestly the smallest alpha Dean had ever seen. Either his parents had been dwarfs ... "And when he popped up again about in the system six weeks later again, I figured you guys could need some help." He smiled up at Dean broadly.

"Oookay ..." Dean gestured him into the kitchen. "Sam's sleeping though." he said a bit quieter.

That changed everything. If they'd have Garth as counselor, they didn't have to hide things. SAM wouldn't have to hide things. And best of all, he'd declare them as capable about looking out for Sam.

"He's livin' with you?" Garth leaned back against the table and took the coffee gratefully Dean handed him.

Dean gave him a quizzical look.

"That's what's written in his file." he declared.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Usually we're at my house ..." He pointed into the direction where the driveway was. "We've company."

"Brown big van?" Garth sipped on his coffee. "Blonde cute girl behind the wheel?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. - observing her since about a week now. Looks like a vamp to me."

"But she doesn't seem to be uncomfortable in the sun- Something else maybe?"

"Nah. Gotta be a vamp," Dean demanded. "One of Savanger's nest maybe."

Garth pursed his lips. "Yeah. You're right. You gonna get her on the yard some time soon?"

"Tonight. Bobby's getting Ellen and Jody to come along. You're in?" He asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

Garth nodded, a spark of intuition lighting up in his eyes before it died away again. "But first ..." He looked very serious now. "We need to talk. I found some things that are gonna be important."

Dean's eyes narrowed and the light mood slipped away from him the very moment he saw the seriousness in Garth's eyes.

... to be continued

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