As Sam had suspected, Evie-Marie hit her developmental milestones unnaturally early.
At just ten weeks old, she could roll from her front to her back… and then return to her front. Dean switched to always putting the changing mat on the floor after the second time his daughter nearly rolled straight off his bed.
By four months old she was crawling around the Bunker, which meant that the brothers and the Angel spent a frantic day installing baby safety gates…
… and by four months and seemingly one day old, Evie-Marie was determinedly pulling herself up against them to a very wobbly standing position…
… and by five months she was climbing over the gates and escaping into the vast expanse of the Bunker, using all four limbs with all the artless skills yet nine-lived confidence of an escaping kitten.
In fact she was climbing everywhere.
Up onto chairs. Up any stairs she could manage to get to. Down any stairs she could manage to get to, turning herself around to somehow slide down feet-first on her front in her determination to explore.
She climbed up the book shelves.
And within a couple more weeks she caused the younger Winchester brother to feel that he had lost at least ten years of his life when he heard Dean running around the corridors in the background shouting "she's out the crib: where's the hell she gone now?" at exactly the same time as he walked into the main area of the Bunker and saw his infant niece, who had somehow not only got up the steel staircase to the main entrance but was now seemingly intent on climbing right over the railings at the end of the balcony without any comprehension of the dangerous fall beyond whatsoever.
"Evie! No!"
Wrong move. The baby startled at Sam's panicked scream, burst into tears… and lost her grip. The man raced forward in a desperate bid to catch the falling infant… but was stunned into an abrupt halt by a sudden blur of movement on his left side.
A blur of blue-demined and plaid over-shirt that somehow was there instantly, leaping several feet into the air to catch Evie-Marie in two gentle but safe hands.
Sam stared: for an instant he had thought it must be Castiel running past him with his angelic strength… but it had actually been his brother…
It had been Dean who had ran for his daughter with such sudden inhuman ability…
Memories of the other Dean came to the forefront of his mind: of his brother's lookalike easily leaping up on a platform that was higher than Sam himself stood, and then literally bounding up the side of a tumbling-down building…
Even as he himself reached the smaller man who was now hugging his headstrong infant with an emotional combination of desperate despair at her actions and sheer relief that she was unharmed, Sam couldn't help but wonder what other attributes that the other Dean had had were now shared and would at some point be revealed…
… and sigh at yet more proof that his older brother was no longer completely human.
"She okay?"
"She's good." The blunt sternness in his brother's voice sent a thrill of memory down the younger man's spine. John Winchester may have been terrifyingly scary when he was angry (often unfairly, and usually to do with how little training the brothers, and most particularly his little soldier, had been doing in comparison with their 'unimportant and useless' schoolwork), but he had never been able to cause such anxiety or tears of pleading for forgiveness from a younger Sam as when he caused Dean to be cross enough at him to use that tone…
… and the older Winchester seemed to be having the same effect on his daughter. Evie-Marie looked up from the security of the man's arms with genuine concern as he glowered down at her and stopped crying within the same instant, instead laying her head against the top of her daddy's chest and holding on tightly to him in a tiny parody of a hug.
"No more." Dean told her. "Period."
And to Sam's disbelief, although his niece managed to find numerous other ways to all but turn every hair on his head grey just about every few days, she never attempted to climb those particular stairs on her own again.
Never.
Although he was right - despite Dean's efforts not to show that he was different now, he was… he really was!
For example there was the time that a large dog barked and bounded towards Evie-Marie as she happily played on a rug in the park and Dean honest-to-god snarled at it. Really hissed, bared his teeth and snarled at it. So much so that the previously canines-showing animal instantly whimpered in terror and flumped down to present its belly in supplication, much to its apologetic owner's surprise…
… and to Sam's, who sighed as he discretely slipped his gun back into the rear of the waistband of his denims and tried to calm his heart from pounding so loudly in his chest: "You okay?"
Dean nodded absently as he watched his daughter giggle in excitement and reach to try and snatch at all the temptingly presented soft fur: "Eee-vie…" The warning was there: don't poke the bear, or in this case, the now non-threatening dog. And it was heeded: the child laughed at the antics of the panting animal with the lolling tongue, but refrained from actually touching.
Then there was the little girl in the house at the edge of Lebanon…
From almost the moment his niece had been born, Sam had been trying to encourage his brother to join the local parent-toddler group, feeling that it was important both for Dean and Evie-Marie to have not only some 'normal' life experiences but also, perhaps, they might even make some friends.
The brothers and angel had agreed that the best cover story would be the one that they could also keep most simple: Dean's 'girlfriend' had tragically died in child birth, leaving him literally overnight with a broken heart and a newborn daughter. He had moved to Lebanon to live with his brother both for a new start and so that Sam could help him with the baby and provide emotional support. And Castiel, his best friend in the whole wide world, had come as well to help in any way he could.
Dean had surprisingly agreed about attending the group… to the younger man's immediate suspicion that his sex-machine of a brother might be simply seeing it as a challenge to try and bed some of the single mothers there, especially since the 'recent sad events' had supplied him with the perfect sympathy card to play… but actually the older man seemed to be genuinely determined to do his very best for his little girl, and if that meant pretending to be 'normal' and arranging play-dates, then that's what he was damned well going to do.
(It also helped that he could ask the other parents for advice over things that he could barely remember from when he raised his own little brother, such as how to deal with the joys of teething and when was the best time to try and start weaning…)
Sam had managed to find a part-time job in a small accounting firm. It was as much office-boy to start with as anything else, but the owner had promised him that he would help the young man get his Book-Keeping Certification if he proved reliable.
He had also managed to arrange his hours so that he would be able to accompany Dean to the parent-toddler group mornings and soon found himself the object of much embarrassing and unwarranted attention as his brother thought it hilarious to point his unattached status out to all the afore-mentioned single… and not so single… mothers!
They were returning from their tenth time of attending the sessions when Dean suddenly pulled the Impala sharply to the kerb, startling a happily exhausted Evie awake from a nap in her baby seat in the rear of the vehicle, to sit staring at a large old house in some major need of repair sited on the outskirts of Lebanon.
"What's wrong?" Sam was instantly on alert.
"The windows…" Dean breathed. "They're glowing blue."
"They're what?" Sam could see nothing, but after what had happened when he lost his brother last time he never intended to doubt him again. "Wait! What are you doing?"
"Going to see." Dean was already out of the driver's seat and reaching to fetch his daughter out of her chair. "You comin'?"
"You try and stop me!" The younger man winced as he painfully banged his thigh into the front corner of the Impala as he raced round it in his haste not to be left behind. Not this time. "We go together!"
The only response was a grunt but Sam knew what the noise meant: he knew he had been understood. He stayed close to Dean as his brother marched to the front door and sharply knocked against the flaking paint of the wood, and he intended to stay close.
They stood in silence as they waited for a response… it seemed an ominous one to Sam even despite the gurgles and squeals of the now wide awake baby in her father's arms. But then footsteps were heard approaching from inside the house and the door swung open…
… to reveal an tired-looking middle-aged woman, with long previously blonde hair now beginning to streak with grey and large dark bags under her eyes. "Hello? Can I help you?"
"We're…" Sam began… but his brother interrupted: "I think it's you who needs the help, ma'am."
"Who are you and what the hell do you mean by that?" The deep voice came from behind the lady as a dark-haired man walked up to join her at the door, putting his arm around her protectively and proving that he was slighter shorter than her…
… or rather, he tried to put his arm around her. But the would-be tender motion was halted abruptly by a picture frame that had been hanging on the wall suddenly unexpectedly bursting into motion to fly across the hallway and strike the man hard on the back.
Even as he cried out in pain and fell forward, Dean was striding in through the door and past them both: "Hey, wait a minute!"
"It's fine, ma'am!" The younger Winchester hastened to try and reassure her, "I…"
"That's enough!" Dean's deep stern voice made them all pause and look in his direction. He was already standing at the end of the corridor, Evie-Marie in his arms, and they were both staring down at…
… nothing.
Sam blinked: what the hell was his brother looking at?
But Dean was still talking. Carefully he knelt down on the carpeted floor as he did so he could stare the little girl in the eye: "I take it this lady is your mama? You look so like her, she must be. But why are you treating her like this? Throwing pictures off the wall? What's that all about?"
"You can see me?!" "You can see her?!" The exclamations of everyone were synchronised… with the exception of Sam who simply stood with his mouth agape… and then the memory of the other Dean having a long conversation with that ghost in Columbia sprung to the forefront of his brain…
"Yes of course I can." Dean's assured but annoyed sounding tone made the younger Winchester wonder momentarily if his brother had actually realised that whoever he was seeing was dead…
… but then the older man carried on talking: "Now. There's a picture of you in that frame on the wall with a much younger version of your mom and who I take it is your dad?"… he indicated another picture hanging beside the one so abruptly destroyed that Sam hadn't noticed… "and that table in there"… again Dean nodded through into the main sitting room to the direction of a small sideboard covered with small photo frames and the younger brother as always was in equal amounts incredulous and impressed about the other's instant observation skills and his own seeming equivalent lack of them… "shows all of you over and over. You looked happy when you were alive. And loved. So what's all this about?"
"He's here." The child hissed in response. "Why is he here? I want my daddy! Where did my daddy go?"
"He left, Julie." The woman was breaking free of her new would-be partner's arms and running across to where Dean was kneeling to speak to the ghost of her daughter almost as if it were a usual occurrence for her... which it probably was… "He couldn't take what… what happened. When you… when you died…
He blamed himself… when you started to choke, I was so scared. I didn't know what to do… Neither did he, although he tried… he tried so hard, Julie. He tried to save you but it was all over so fast…
He left me… us… a few weeks after your funeral. He couldn't deal with your death…
That was years ago, Julie. Over ten years… "
"He should be here!" The child stamped her foot petulantly. "He's my daddy! He should be here!"
"I wanted him here as well, Julie!" Tears were trickling down the woman's face as she crouched beside the man and baby: Dean reached to comfort her. "But he left! He left us! And now Matt… he wants to be here. He makes me happy, Julie!"
"I don't want him. I want my daddy here!" Julie's tantrum reached fever point: the glass in all the rest of the picture frames… as well as in the cabinet and the front porch window shattered suddenly.
Sam snatched for the man and pushed him against the wall, trying to use his own larger body as a cover from all the spraying pieces of glass, while Dean reacted similarly with the bereaved mother, pulling her tightly towards him for protection for her and also to use both their bodies as a living umbrella to ensure that his daughter was untouched by even the most microscopic fragment…
… but fuck, was he pissed! His little girl had been put in danger!
"That's enough! That's enough!" The depth of the growl beneath the angry words caused even Sam to shiver down his spine a little: it wasn't just that there was a threat in the tone, it was more that there was a hint of unnatural power… and of the kind that humans instinctively and innately knew not to cross. "Look at your mother! Look at what you're doing to her! No more."
The little girl burst into tears, but obeyed, her sobs turning to choked racks of misery with every sniff.
Evie-Marie, who had instantly fallen silent as her father had protected her, peeked round the security of his strong arms and tried to reach as if to try and offer comfort to the other child: her face showing frustration as her chubby hand instead went through where the other seemed to stand rather than giving genuine solace.
The baby leant back against Dean's chest and held her own hands to stare at them as if in disbelief: either they, or her eyes, must be playing tricks on her! At any other time her father and her uncle would have found her confused expression extremely interesting.
And somewhat funny.
"You can't." Julie sniffled. "The only one who can touch me is that weird old lady. I wish mummy could touch me: I've tried to make her be able to for years."
"What old lady? You mean there's something else…. I mean, another ghost in this house?" her mother was aghast. And despite her relief that somebody else actually seemed to be able to see her dead daughter, she was already looking around with scared wide eyes as if expecting to see a hoard of spirits floating down the stairs.
"She wants me to go with her!" Julie explained. "An old lady who knows my name and looks sad when I shout at her to go away. She has a bracelet on her arm that reminds me of Tigger and it rattles because she's so thin, and there's these string of pearls around her neck…"
"That's my mother!" The woman almost screamed in disbelief. "I gave her that bracelet when I was your age and she always wore it. It's made of tortoise shell but it always reminded me of a tiger as well because of the colours…"
"That's Gramma?" The child stopped crying and stared at her mother.
"Yes!" It was the mother's turn to talk through her tears. "She died when you were only a baby but she loved you so much. I should have known she'd have been here for you. That's… that's…" She was forced to stop speaking for a minute while she tried to catch her breath. "I wish I could see her as well, I miss her so much. Losing her and then you, I…
…. I wanted to join your both. So many times, I just wanted to join you..."
She fell silent as both Dean and her daughter stared at her with horrified eyes… but the man purposely allowed the child to speak first. "But you can't, mom!" Julie was aghast at the thought. "I don't want you to… I don't want you to join me. Not yet…"
"But I wanted to. So much. I could see you but he couldn't… He couldn't take me talking about you as if you were there. He just… went. He has a new wife now, Julie. You have two half-siblings."
The woman paused… and acknowledged sadly… "He didn't want to see you, Julie…"
"He married again, mommy?" The little girl was crying again. "Is that why he never came back? To get away from me?"
"No, Julie," Her mother told her. "He left to get away from me and my madness. And his guilt. He left and he had those men come and get his things and I received the divorce papers through the post to sign."
"I wanted him here with us."
"I know, my darling." If her mother could have hugged her then she would have. "I couldn't make him stay, Julie. And I never wanted to leave this house because of you… You'd have been all alone…
I didn't know you had Gramma."
There was something in the woman's voice. Her daughter looked up at her… into her mother's face. So did Evie-Marie. And Dean, who narrowed his eyes as he also scrutinized her carefully…. and saw…
… hope.
"Your dad moved on to a new life." He quietly commented. "Time you let your mama do the same."
That caught the little girl's attention away from her mother. "What do you mean…?"
"You love your mother, don't you? You were upset just then when she said what she just said." Julie stared blankly at him. "She's stayed with you for ten years, child: I bet your room hasn't been changed at all, has it? Time to let her have some happiness of her own now."
"But I want her here." The tantrum threatened to re-appear…
Dean was having none of it. "You're dead."
Evie ducked her head into her daddy's chest and clung on tight to his strong arms as she felt the tension again rise in the house…
"You're dead, Julie." Dean continued, his tone leaving no room for discussion or argument. "You died, and that's terrible but you're still dead. And your mother's alive, and hopefully has got a lot of years to live. You'll be together again after, you know you will. But it's time to let her go, child. Time to let her live the rest of her life. It really is."
The elder Winchester's words were simple. Gentle. Somehow mesmerizing.
But commanding.
The little girl stared at him, with now just one solitary tear trickling down her cheek. "S'pose." she whispered. Then: "I'm sorry."
This last was addressed to her mother, who promptly burst into tears again: "I can't let you go!"
"You must." Dean told her. "She has to move on. For her sake and yours. If her grandmother is here for her, then you have to let her go. You'll meet again. Please believe me: you will meet again."
The woman sobbed but nodded as she tried so desperately to hug her daughter for one last time, her face screwing up in desperation as her arms simply passed through the child's spiritual body. Both looked ready to cry.
Then Evie once more leant forward from her father's strong grasp to touch the woman gently on her arm… and both mother and daughter smiled at the baby in unison, breaking the previous friction so that it dissipated as quickly as it had arisen.
"Is Gramma here?" The woman asked hesitantly.
But it was Dean who answered. "I'm taking it that that's the lady over there?" as he indicated the elderly lady with silvered hair tied in a bun and the afore-mentioned bangle dangling on her skinny arm, hovering randomly three foot or so in the air or so in the doorway of an opposite room unnoticed and unseen by everyone except himself and the two youngsters.
Julie bit at her lip: "Yes. That's Gramma. Do I have to go…?"
Her mother was staring in the direction that Dean had indicated, desperate to see her mother for one last time… but she turned at the sound of her daughter's voice. "Yes, my darling. As this man said, we'll meet again: he promised that we will! But… Julie… you have to go, sweetheart. Please. For me. Go with Gramma."
Tears rolled down the cheeks of the little girl once more but she nodded. "I'm sorry mommy.
I love you."
The woman had to stifle her own sobs: "I love you, sweetheart. So much. And you, mama!" This was directed toward the (to her) empty wall. "I love you too!"
Then she was breaking down fully as a sudden column of blinding light that seemed to be coming down through the roof from heaven itself illuminated the doorway where the elderly spirit was floating,.
Sam and the couple stared as they all could suddenly see both the ghosts: the man beside him drawing in a sudden shocked breath as the young source of his girlfriend's trauma was abruptly revealed, and the woman dissolving into blubbery tears as she saw her beloved mother for one last time…
"Mama!"
The old woman smiled at her: "I love you as well, Mary. Always have, always will." Her voice was cracked but warm. "Now!" And she was reaching out her arm to beckon to her grand-daughter, the bangle rattling on her slim wrist and catching the bright light in a blaze of tiger-orange: "Did you know we can bake cookies in Heaven? Do you want to come and see?"
"Chocolate-chip ones?" Julie's eyes were wide: "Oh, I've missed chocolate-chip cookies!"
Her grandmother chuckled: "Chocolate-chip ones!"
She looked over at her daughter and nodded with a smile as the little girl finally took her hand after all the years of asking. Julie turned to also smile at her mother… and then they, and the brilliant brightness, were gone, leaving the house somewhat dark and dismal behind them.
Sam stood and stared at his brother.
Dean felt the gaze and twisted where he knelt to meet the younger man's eyes from across the hallway. They shared a nod between them, and then the mummy-daddy was getting to his feet, with his baby daughter safe and secure in his arms, to cross to join his little brother at the entrance to the recently haunted house. Silently they all three returned to the Impala, leaving behind them the man to try to helplessly comfort the sobbing woman.
They sat in silence in the vehicle for a while… then…. "Fancy a cheeseburger?" Sam suggested.
"Yuk." was Dean's automatic reaction: the younger man tried to contain his sigh. "But I could go for some fried chicken!"
But the most major difference of all became obvious when Evie was about 6 months old.
She had been teething and was extremely grumpy and grizzling about it. Not to mention overtired.
As was Dean, who had sat up with his daughter for the best part of two nights trying to soothe her. He was the only one that stood any chance of perhaps getting the baby to settle through the night, but even so, all Evie's sharp little baby teeth seemed to be coming through at once, making her all but permanently red-cheeked for the past few days and genuinely crying with pain.
Castiel had been taking a turn at cuddling the stressed little girl, having insisted that his friend went and tried to catch up with his own sleep. Dean himself had started to look both pale and sweaty all at the same time, and both the other men were concerned for his health. (He was, despite his protests, the first of his species, and consequently might have unsuspected reactions, allergic or otherwise, to previously 'normal' things.)
The dark-haired man heard the light footsteps that meant that Dean was returning to the main room and suppressed a sigh: the other man hadn't been gone as long a time as he'd hoped. Then his attention was back to the baby as she squiggled around and fussed in his lap. "What is it, child?" He asked with his endless patience. "I've tried to assist you with your discomfort but unfortunately, short of pulling each tooth forcefully through your gums, there is not much else I can do!"
She stared at him as if with disgust, then opened her mouth to send out yet another wail… but suddenly stopped. The angel watched with one eyebrow raised as Evie's miniature nostrils suddenly twitched with the depth of her inhalation, her head twisted in the direction of her father… and then the baby suddenly settled.
As in settled completely. She stopped crying and instead seemed to concentrate on just… breathing in, her expression somehow becoming… serene… as she scented… whatever it was she was scenting… but whatever it was, her flushed cheeks suddenly soothed and faded to a more normal looking complexion as the pheronomes calmed and seemed to clear her discomfort.
Within moments, she was sound asleep.
But by then, Castiel's attention was all on Dean. "You do not look well. At all. Are you sickening for something: should we call Benjamin?"
For his friend's face was definitely pale in colour despite the sweat seemingly pouring off him. In fact his features could be called worse than pale: the hue of his appearance was almost grey… Castiel was already on his feet in concern…
Dean hastily stepped back at his approach, anxious about infecting the baby in the angel's arms with whatever malady he seemed to be suffering from: "Don't know if it's the flu or something worse, but I don't want her getting it! Can you watch her tonight for me?"
"I will watch over her always, you have no need to ask," the dark-haired man assured him seriously. "But it is you that I am worried about. We should call Benjamin…"
"What's going on?" Sam paused from the top of the steps, which he had just crept up as quietly as he could: the sudden silence of his previously seemingly permanently squawling niece drawing his curiosity like a moth to a flame. But then he was registering the state of his brother and Castiel's words: "What's wrong?" His tone was sharper than he intended in his panic. "Are you ill? Dean?"
The older man sighed. And shivered with cold despite the fact that he felt as he would spontaneously combust at any second: "Don't know what's wrong," he finally admitted. "Just been feeling… worse and worse all day…"
"Are you hot? I mean, really hot! Feverish?" The angel stared at the younger Winchester in surprise at his words: what did Sam know that he didn't?
Dean was also staring at his brother… momentarily… but then his stomach churned and he hastily tried to swallow the feeling down before he gagged. "Yeah," he muttered. "And that. To put it bluntly, I feel like crap."
"I'll bet." Sam looked down at his feet. He didn't want to say… well, he did but… he just didn't know how Dean would react… well, he did… but there was a little bit of him… well, a not so little bit of him that he would be ready to volunteer the use of… only for his brother's health of course.
Only for Dean.
He came out of his thoughts to find the other two men staring at him: the angel still with the now happily snoring baby in his arms and a confused expression on his face, and Dean with his hair looking just washed because of the amount of sweat dripping through it and a slump to his body that gave the clue that he was about to collapse at any minute.
"Sam?" He wasn't even sure which one of them had spoken. What he was about to say was so important and could change everything…
"I think you're going into Heat."
"I'm… what?" Dean swayed on his feet even as he stared at the younger man.
"Of course." Castiel shook his head at himself. "I had forgotten!" Then the same thought was striking him as it had Sam immediately and he bit his lips not to utter what he so wanted to say next.
Dean stared at them both, looking from one to the other with his now slightly glazed eyes trying to make sense of what they were meaning… then: "Oh. Oh! Ohhhhh!
Shit."
The younger Winchester steeled himself: "Dean, I…"
"Don't want to hear it, Sammy!"
"Dean…"
"Nah-ah!" And the older man was pulling away from them both, stumbling slightly as he did as his head spun and his vision blurred… and he was unaware of his irises beginning to ring with gold…
Desperately he tried to hold on to his sanity: "Samuel told me about this Heat thing, and I know… I know how bad it's going to get without him because I need him and… I know… I know what you're offering. Both of you. But I…"
He took a deep breath. "I don't see you that way, Sammy. I never have, I never will. And I can't…
It wouldn't be right to Samuel…
He's my… he's my mate…
And I know you both are hoping… I don't mean that as it sounds: I know that you just want to help," as Sam and Castiel both went to speak. "But I can't. I just can't.
Not to Samuel."
There was a long silence in the room, disturbed only by the soft snores of the baby. "I… er… I should put her in her crib." Castiel's calm gravelly voice gave away only the slightest hint of his intense disappointment. "But Dean… we are only thinking of you. The other Dean gave us to understand just how much he was going to suffer without his Alpha…"
His friend grimaced as the heat seemed to intensify inside him, but tried to smile through it: "I know, Cas. And I'm grateful.
But I'm doing this alone."
"I knew you'd say that." Sam joined in quietly. "And I get why. You and Samuel are soul-mates, not a… a forced mating." These words were spoken in an even lower tone: the younger Winchester had been horrified when Dean had told him how their counter-parts had come to be a couple…
… about how his counter-part had raped his older brother. And the twisted society of that other dimension had accepted such an action as a natural… and probably common… occurrence.
The other Dean didn't need to have any loyalty towards his mate. And as far as this Sam was concerned, that other Sam didn't deserve any.
He took a deep breath and fought down his anger and disgust to continue: "Cas and I will be here if you need us. I promise you that, and it's not about us… wanting you… but that we both will do absolutely anything to keep you safe. So whatever happens in these next few days with this Heat, and whatever you may need, you will not be judged, Dean. Not by us.
But in the meantime…
I bought you these."
And Sam was running back down the steps towards his room and returning as quickly as his long legs could carry him with a plain carrier bag that he handed immediately to Dean…
… but he wasn't able to resist doing so without a huge smirk on his face.
"What's this?" And then the older Winchester was blushing scarlet to the tips of his ears as he reached into the bag and pulled out… two extremely large vibrating dildos and a couple of economy packs of batteries.
Sam couldn't help himself: "That one's got an…" his chuckles turned to coughs… "it… it inflates. At the end. I thought… well, I thought…
And the other's the biggest on the market: they call it 'the horse'. You might find them useful."
Sam's amusement had all vanished as he stared at Dean. Whose expression, despite the drips of perspiration gathering in ever greater amount in his military-short hair and forming in large drops on his upper lip, was worryingly blank as he in turn stared wide-eyed at the items in his hands. "Dean?"
The… green… wait a minute - gold eyes… shit: his brother's eyes were turning gold!... flicked in Sam's direction. Instinctively the younger man took a step back.
But then Dean was relaxing: "Thanks, Bitch."
Sam grinned: "You got it, Jerk. We'll look after Evie: you go and look after yourself. We'll bring you food and drink and leave it outside your door, so make sure you get it… and Dean?" As the other turned on somewhat wobbly legs to escape to the safety of his room, "Anything you need. Anything. You've got it."
Dean nodded, and stumbled away in the direction of the top of the steps. Both the other men had to resist hard the urge to assist him safely down them, but he somehow managed it on his own and set off up the corridor, presents tightly in hand, toward his room.
He left behind a silence.
"What do we do now, Sam? Do you think he might…?" The angel's voice shook slightly. "Every day I have to remind myself not to touch… too much. Do you think…?"
The younger Winchester turned to him with a sigh. "He's not that Dean. This one's my brother… I should never have crossed that line, Cas.
Never.
All we can do now is be around in case. Just in case he needs…
What I don't want to do though, is to give him any reason to be anxious around us. We'll just have to wait and see what happens over the next few days…
That's all we can do."
Dean shut the door of his room behind him and rested his head against the wood. Shit, he really felt like crap!
He couldn't decide which was going to kill him first: the internal fire that was threatening to combust his entire body at any moment… or the nausea in his stomach that made his feel that he was going to puke his entire guts up at any minute… or the fact that his ass felt… so empty.
How could it feel so empty?
Dean felt so empty.
Not just his ass. He felt so…
… like he was just a hole. And he desperately needed to be filled. By something.
By someone.
By Samuel.
He needed Samuel.
He needed his smile, and his arms, and his body, and his…
He needed his cock, and he needed his knot and he needed to be fucked to within an inch of his life, and then he needed it to happen again, and again, and again, and…
… the fire erupted inside him, and he was drowning in his own sweat, and he was empty, and horny: so horny that his cock was almost purple and his asshole felt like a living empty hole that needed to be filled, even though that weird slicky stuff was now pouring out of it like a fucking tap had been turned on, and he needed Samuel because that young man was his mate and he needed him.
And now he was crying.
Dean collapsed to the ground beside his door in a tearful and disgustingly sticky heap of hot and lust and loneliness and need… and just cried.
He wasn't sure what time it was when he opened his eyes later. He must have cried himself to sleep. When was the last time he had done that? Had he done it ever? What the hell was wrong with him? What a baby he had turned into: he wasn't a thing, he was a fucking baby! John would be so ashamed…
And he still hurt. He was still burning up inside: he still wished… oh god he wished… he wished Samuel was there.
His eyes fell on the discarded toys that his brother had bought him… boy, was that embarrassing!? Now there was something that they were never, ever going to speak of again. Uh-huh, definitely not!
The pressure from the hole inside that seemed to be starting from his asshole and spreading fiercely throughout his entire body was building up again. Desperately he ripped off and discarded the all but destroyed pants and underwear that he had been wearing, before tearing into the wrapping of the biggest vibrator and snatching up the batteries: "Come on, come on!"
Then he was sobbing again: this time from relief as the machine buzzed into life inside him and did its job… easing his pain for a little while at least. "Thanks, Sam."
And as if that wasn't fucked up.
But Dean knew it wouldn't last. He could already feel the flames and the slippery emptiness building up again, and it was only going to get worse…
And worse…
Even as he and his brother's thoughtful gift worked their way through the whole first pack of batteries, the man turned new omega was crying himself to blessed unconsciousness once more.
"Dean?" The knocking from outside woke him up. "I've put a tray with bottles of water and some juice and sandwiches on the floor down here. You make sure you stay hydrated: if they're not gone next time I come round then I'm busting your door down, okay big brother?"
"K…kay, Sammy. Thanks." Jesus, his voice sounded rough: it was cracked and dry. Even as he moved to the door and dragged the tray into the room, the flames burnt through him again, forcing him to change the batteries and put the toy to use again.
The next time he became aware of his surroundings again he was fully naked on his bed… to be more exact, on the bare mattress with all his bedding, (and the rest of the clothing that he had been in), as a crumpled, sodden, messy heap around. Dean himself felt so dry that drinking the entire Colorado river wouldn't be able to ease it.
Desperately he opened and glugged down some of the bottles of water from the tray, revelling in the cool liquid pouring down his parched throat.
"Dean? You okay?" And his brother was there outside his door again. "You drinking that okay? You need more?"
"I'm good." He managed to croak back. Then he had to ask: "Have you been outside listening all that time or…?"
"No." The younger man was quick to reassure him. "No. It's Evie. She seems to be tied in to when you're… slightly more coherent. Which, in a way, I suppose makes sense, as if a baby was on their own in that world with an omega parent in Heat then it might well starve while the parents were… otherwise occupied. Or at least, just cry itself out for nothing.
But actually, the moment she sensed that you were… well, going into this, she settled down completely: I mean completely. It's been like she's been doped. She's only woken up twice these last two days, and that's only to have a bottle and then she's just immediately gone back to sleep again! She hasn't even stirred while we've been changing her diaper! And both times she has done, I've come down to check on you and that's when you've been able to talk to me…
I admit I've checked a couple of other times as well, but I wasn't getting any sense out of you then apart from noises that I don't ever want to hear again!"
Dean groaned with embarrassment. And heard his brother chuckle gleefully from outside his door. Then the other took pity:
"I've brought some more bottles. And if the other Dean told me right, then you're nearing the worst of this. Possibly tonight, probably tomorrow: he said it usually lasts about five days. Once you're over the peak, then you should be okay…
And I mean it: if you need help, even if it's just a cuddle, you ask. I love you, big brother. I'll do anything for you! Don't you ever forget that!"
Dean felt tears prickle again as he heard Sam's footsteps fading away once more from the other side of the door, and hastily drank the rest of the bottle of water that he had started. "I love you as well," he muttered, "thanks."
Quickly he ate the covered but drying-out sandwiches and drank the last bottle of water, before putting the empty tray outside his door and pulling the freshly replenished one in. "Seriously, thanks, Sammy!"
But then he was wincing as the heat inside him began to build up again. Worse than ever.
He tried the toys again: first one, then the other. Then, with worryingly shaky hands, he changed the batteries in both. Then tried using the vibrators together as one, all inhibitions long since gone.
It didn't come close to scratching the itch. The literal bucket of his own sweat dripping out of every pore didn't come close to cooling him down. Not even close. He was dying from his own internal furnace burning up his insides. Either that, or he would die of sheer dehydration first…
What he needed was for all of this pain to be well and truly fucked out of him. That's what this stupid transformed body of his needed…
That's all he needed!
He was going to die from the lack of fucking incredible sex!
And how ironic was that!? Dean Winchester, the self-proclaimed greatest love machine of the whole good old U. S. of A. dying from the lack of it!
No.
No.
He had a daughter. And Evie-Marie needed her daddy. And even though he didn't know how he had ever been allowed to have something… some one… so fucking incredible in his life: how could someone as useless as him have possibly had such an amazing little girl… she needed him.
He wasn't going to die here.
Not like this.
No, he was just going to have to suck it up and fucking well get through this. He was an Omega.
Even if he still wasn't quite sure what an omega actually was.
And… more importantly… he was Dean fucking Winchester.
So Bring. It. Fucking. On.
He wasn't to know it but that would turn out to be his last coherent conscious thought for the next nearly nineteen hours.
He wasn't to know it but both his brother and Castiel would be standing outside his door for most of those hours, with Evie's baby monitor in hand, listening to his whimpers and pained cries…
He would never know how many times the two friends had looked at each other helplessly and desperate to help…
But every time they had respected his wishes and left him alone.
The next lucid thought that Dean had… was that he was suddenly awake. In his bedroom… although at second glance… it wasn't his. Well… it was his bed… or at least similar to it… but not his room. He didn't know the room…
… but it was bathed in a pale blue light.
That didn't really register with the omega though. No, the only thing that he cared about, his second rational thought that instantaneously turned into the only thing that mattered was that there was something cool wrapped around him.
Something behind him his full length that was blessedly cool against him and wrapped around him with long strong arms and long legs with thighs like marble that pressed over his… and a scent that soothed him and aroused him and made him feel safe and brought tears of joy to his eyes, and he couldn't wait to wriggle his body around in the tight loving hold so that he could face…
"Samuel…"
"Hey, baby Alpha."
Dean couldn't help himself. He burst into tears… of numerous emotions: some to do with his Heat; some disbelief; most pure joy.
"How can this be real?" he sobbed.
Samuel wiped his mate's tears away with his gentle hand, but leant forward and touched their foreheads together in a gesture so tender that the older man felt his breath leave him from pleasure: "I don't think it is real, baby. I think Our Lady has brought us together in a dream, but I'll take it. I'll take anything to be able to see you, Dean.
I was struggling with a sudden rut… really struggling… it hit me out of the blue, my first ever one, and I've never been so cold in all my life: absolutely freezing.
Or so horny: my… er… well, everything was hurting. But if you're in Heat then that probably explains it: she's caused us to sync…"
"You look older…" Dean felt like an idiot for suddenly blurting that out, but indeed the other did.
Gone was the youthful appearance of the sixteen year old that he had first met: now there was a definite and extremely masculine looking young man lying beside him, who had the long slim limbs and dimples of both Sams, but with his own dazzling green eyes and long lashes… "Jesus, how long has it been in your world? You must be… twenty three? Twenty four? It's only been twelve months here… I'm so sorry, Samuel… about everything…"
His words were cut off by the young man kissing him suddenly, demanding entrance to his much-missed mate's lips but hey… Dean could definitely get on board with that! He wriggled closer…
Although eventually even the Alpha had to pause for breath and finally answered his question: "No, no, it's been a year for us as well. It's just that, once we present, that's when we mature as well. The moment we mated I became a man. You made me into a man." And he was moving in to kiss Dean again.
But this time, Dean put up his hand to block him. "Sammy," he began nervously, " I… I have to tell you something.
We have a child. A little girl."
The other's breath caught… and then the handsome young man's face broke into the widest, proudest grin that Dean had even seen. "Fine if wispy blonde hair; your gorgeous eyes; has a toy baby moose that she always cuddles in her sleep…?"
The other stared at him wide-mouthed.
"I see her in my dreams. Every single night. Oh Dean, she's so beautiful: she looks just like you! And she sees me as well! She always looks for me and I play with her."
Dean paused as numerous memories of the little girl chuckling and babbling away in her sleep at something came to mind: the sudden knowledge of Samuel's existence in his daughter's life, albeit in a dream dimension, lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders that he hadn't even realised had been there.
"What's her name?" his Alpha had watched the relief on his face with understanding.
"Evie-Marie." Dean told him: "I tell her about you every single day, I swear I do!"
"I know you do." Samuel assured him. "I'm going to find you one day, Dean. And this… this…. is only proof that Our Lady will bring us back together. And I can't wait, I really can't: I love you so much!
But in the meantime…" and he smirked at his older lover, pulling their bodies back to their position of full length touching while in the meantime turning them so that he was on top, his strong hands already touching everywhere that he could while moving to plunder the omega's mouth with his tongue: "I get to have a whole night with you, baby Alpha. Even if it is only in our dreams…
And I don't intend to waste one single moment of it!"
Dean felt exhausted when he finally woke up again in his room hours later. The phrase 'running a marathon' didn't cover how tired he was: he felt that he must have run around the entire world at least six times! Everything about him ached to the point of all his limbs feeling wobbly and he was so dehydrated despite being covered in… everything that he did not want to think about… that his head was spinning even while he was still lying down!
Had he just dreamt Samuel?
But his body was feeling cooler; he was thinking clearer: in fact he was now shivering from the effects of sweating so much that he stumbled over to where he had hung his 'dead man's robe' and wrapped it around himself hastily for warmth…
… this was nearly over.
First thing: water.
Dean opened his door and peaked outside, then felt his eyes prickle yet again at the sight of Sam, slumped fully clothed on the cold floor outside his room and sound asleep.
"Sammy?" Dean knelt down and prodded at his chest, although to be fair, he was far more interested in the fresh bottles of water on the tray beside his brother. Desperately he grabbed at one to open it and glugged the nectar tasting liquid down his parched throat.
"Dean?" And the younger man was awakening from his uncomfortable snooze and was trying to stretch out his aches and pains: "You okay?"
The older man finished the first bottle and reached for another: "Yeah. No. Feel like shit, but better than I have been." This all came like a croak. "Water?"
Sam understood the gesture if not the cracked husky words and quickly handed him the next bottle, opening it for his brother as he did.
But even as Dean raised it to his lips, he found himself suddenly engulfed by the arms of the younger man, who had tried and failed to stop himself from launching into a full embrace, nearly knocking them both over in the meantime: "I was so worried. You've been out for hours! So has Evie!"
"She has?"
But as if on cue, there was a burble of baby sound through the monitor. Followed almost immediately by the deep dry tones of Castiel: "I am glad to see you awake. The Bunker has been extremely quiet these last few days: I did not realise how much life and laughter your existence has filled it with."
As if she was responding to him, there was another burst of cooing babble: "Bllllllloooooobbbbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrddddddd?"
"Exactly my point!" the angel commented. Both brothers grinned as they sat on the floor in the corridor together and listened to the 'conversation', Sam's arm still slung casually around the older man. "And I am hoping that your stirring means the same for your father: you seem to be the indicator as to when he is back with us in the land of the conscious."
"Brrrrrdddddddbbbbbbbddddoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddaaaaaaaaaaa."
"Yes, your father. I hope that he is also awake and able to take in sustenance. Both of you need some badly. This is very difficult for all of us with you and him being the first of a unique species: Sam and I are just having to feel our way through it and hope we are doing right for you both."
"Dddddddddddddd!"
Sam started: "Is she trying to say dad!"
Dean grinned: "That's my girl! But now I really need the bathroom. And oh my god, I stink!"
"I didn't want to mention it, but yes, you do! How are you feeling now you can talk to me?"
"Better for the moment, but I can feel it's not quite gone yet. I need a shower, but is there anything to eat? I'm starving!"
Sam got up and reached a large steady hand to help his brother stand as well, noticing how Dean stumbled a little as he did and seemed to still be shaky on his feet, not helped at all by him trying to keep the flaps of the old dressing gown closed together to cover his nudity. "You get changed while I sort your bedding. Then how d'ya fancy bacon and pancakes?"
Dean moaned: "Sounds great. Thanks bro. But I'll do my room: believe me, you do not want to go in there!" He paused: "Sammy?"
The younger man turned: "Yeah?"
He watched with raised eyebrows as Dean struggled internally with himself… but then he thought: 'honest with each other, that's what we said and that's what I've got to try to be'. "She sent Samuel to me, Sammy. The goddess I mean. She sent Samuel to help me through this!"
His younger brother stared at him… then was suddenly pushing past Dean and into his bedroom… only to back out almost instantly, gagging at the stench of stale sweat and… other odours that were so impregnated that they would probably take days to clear from the room…
"Samuel was here?!"
"No." Dean hastened to explain. "Not in reality... in my dream. He was there in my dream, Sammy. And he knew about Evie! He said that he played with her in her dreams…"
Sam struggled with his emotions… that fucking, fucking goddess… but finally controlled them enough to ask: "What else did he say?"
"Let me grab a shower, Sammy, and I'll tell you."
The younger man nodded, and watched with narrowed eyes as his brother incorrectly thought he was being subtle when he used one hand against the wall as a steadying brace to get himself round the corner of the corridor to the bathroom. Taking a deep breath the younger man plunged into Dean's room and snatched up a whole armful of bedding to be laundered, trying not to think too much about… anything while he did so!
It had all already been set washing in the machine, (and an air freshener sprayed around the omega's bedroom) by the time Dean had managed to get himself dressed for the first time in what for the other two men had been an extremely worrisome few days. He came slowly into the kitchen wearing loose sweatpants and his brother's old college hoodie, still looking flushed and pale all at the same time but definitely not as ill-looking as he had before, and headed immediately to his daughter who was already seated in her highchair munching away at small pieces of pancake: "Ddddddddddddadddadddaaaaaaaaaa!"
"She is saying dad!" the younger Winchester couldn't believe it. "Or trying to anyway! Say Sammy… unca Sammy!"
"Thhrrruuup." The baby poked her pancake-coated tongue out to make the noise: her father chuckled at her as he all but collapsed into the nearest chair while his brother pouted a little. Castiel cocked his head on one side: "She is definitely developing earlier than the books would suggest…"
"She's perfect," Dean was rightly proud, "and her daddy Samuel thinks she is as well!"
"Samuel?" The angel looked confused.
"Yeah," Dean told him: "I've got a story to tell you both. But food first please. This thing doesn't feel as bad now but it still hasn't quite gone yet."
"Are you alright?" Sam brought over a fresh hot stack of pancakes, but grinned as he noticed his brother's eyes already on the bacon. That if nothing else was a good sign.
Dean sighed: "I feel ready to collapse into bed and just sleep for a week. I can't believe I'm going to have to go through this every six months…
But thanks for looking after Evie for me."
"Always." Both the others assured him at the same time.
And they meant it as well.
They always would.