The Road So Far …

"You okay there?" he tried to get a better look at the younger man's face. But no such luck. It was too dark and the omega's hair was too long, hiding most of the upper half of his face. "Kiddo?"

Sam blew out a shuddering breath. Nope, he wasn't going to make it any further. Not with the thumping and the spinning in his head. Not with the way his legs were turning into jell-o.

"Can't," he gasped.

Rather surprised, Dean tightened his hold around the younger man and pulled him in closer. "Just a couple of yards."

Sam's left leg gave out with its next step. So did his right one. All of a sudden, his vision grew grey and black at the edges, followed by a sudden change of hight.

Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 2 ~ Hunting Down Feelings, Saving Omegas, The Winchester Business

Of course they had to carry the omega. Bastard

Dean limped along at Bobby's side, one of the omega's legs in a deathgrip and his arm slung under his armpit, while Bobby had him on the other side. Both men were panting and gasping, when they eventually managed to wrestle him up the slope and more dragged than carried him the last few yards towards Dean's baby.

It had to be mentioned, that Robert Singer was the one urging them in this direction, while Dean had rather aimed towards the older man's truck.

The younger man gave Bobby a curious look, telling him without words that there was no way that he was the one to drive the omega back to the Salvage.

"No way," Dean said, shaking his head, determined. "He's not drivin' in my car."

"Well, boy. I can't have him lying beside a corpse on the bed of my pick up either. So deal with it." Bobby shifted the omega's torso a bit.

Dean grunted. It'd take DAYS before the guy's scent would be gone. Those bastard's scents were worse than a wet dog ... That was eating itself into the upholstery and wouldn't vanish no matter what you'd try. And Dean Winchester knew what he was talking about.

So the both of them maneuvered the unconcsious man onto the backseat of Dean's beloved vehicle, Bobby at his head-end, checking his pulse as soon as he was settled.

Dean slammed the door shut, not caring that he jostled the omega's feet in the process. He was beyond pissed that he had – even when it was only for a few miles – one of those THINGS with him in the same car, stinking around in his baby.

He made a disapproving sound, tapping on the hood of his car to let his old friend know that he should hurry the fuck up.

Bobby only glared at him over the roof top.

Sometimes he didn't understand the boy. It wasn't like this particular omega had hurt anyone. As far as they could tell, he was the victim in this – like omegas mostly were. The incident with that psycho-guy who had to burn down John and Mary Winchester's house had been a crazy freak. One among a mlilion, high likely.

Though, the circumstances had been very blurry. Charles Cooper - The omega who had deliberately set the fire in the Winchester's house – had said, that he had to do it. The man had insisted, that some demon would come and poison a baby in the near future – in THIS house.

Of course, the authorities hadn't believed a single word. Though the fact, that Mary had been indeed pregnant for about four weeks when she had died in the house fire.

Back then, John Winchester had been furious. He had searched desperately for an explaination for what had happened. How this man could possibly believe every word he was saying. That was, until he found evidences that the supernatural may not only was the fidgement of some crazy-shit-guy. And until half a year later during his research, he met Robert Singer in Sioux Falls.

Though, Dean didn't seem to mind the very fact that this may haven't been only the omega's fault. Bobby didn't think, that the omega had acted in the right way. No. But he also saw why Cooper had thought that he was doing the right thing back then.

For Dean Winchester there was only black and white and nothing in between.

"We clear?" Dean asked gruffly, already sitting behind the wheel and was waiting for the older man to step away from the car.

Bobby gave him a sharp nod and stepped away from the car, eying the dirty, prone form in the backseat as Dean started his baby and tore away, past the pick up truck and vanished in the darkness.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Fifteen minutes later, they crossed the entrance of the salvage, and pulled up in front of Bobby Singer's house.

Mere yards away, there was a police car parked and against its side a woman was leaning, wearing a sheriff's uniform. She tipped her hat up as the lights of the Impala grazed her and looked towards it, pushing away from the vehicle.

Dean killed the engine and tore the door open, hopping outside with a grunt as he had forgotten what a wrong movement would do to his sore joints and muscles.

She watched him curiously, as he brushed past her and onto the porch, aiming for the front-door. He didn't give her as much as a brief nod and a short glance before he started to search the withered bush in a huge plant-pot beside it.

Everyone in a freaking five-hundred yards radious could tell, that Dean Winchester was beyond pissed.

Bobby emerged from his pick up seconds later and went straight for Dean's car and the door of the backseat, which he wrenched open without bothering to greet Jody Mills, who was now sauntering towards him.

Meanwhile, Dean found the key and opened the front-door, snapping the switch upwards and the lights in the hallway flickered on. When he turned around, Bobby and Sheriff Mills were already working on getting the giant omega out of the car.

Much to the Winchester's relief. The lesser he had to do with that guy the better it was. For all of them.

So Dean watched them curiously, with an annoyed expression on his face while he held the front door open.

"Where'd you want him?!" he called over to the both of them.

They were still struggling with the omega's long legs, so instead of waiting for them to finally get the guy out of there, he could probably make himself useful and clear their path as soon as they freed his baby from the omega.

Both paused, their head snapping towards Dean and they gave the ex-hunter a murdering glare.

"How about you get your ass over here and lend us a hand?" Jody called out, raising an eyebrow, as she used her mom-voice on the Winchester.

Dean's lips formed a tight line. "I'd have dumped him at the hospital," he muttered, "but NOOOO, we need to take that bitch back to the Salvage. Have to have him ruin my car. And it's fucking stinkin' ..."

"Dean Jonah Winchester." Jody slung her arm around the unconcsious man's middle as she jostled the omega's arm around her neck.

Bobby did the same.

"We can not dump him at the hospital. The Miller's are dead and the ranch looks abandoned so far. - Traces of about ten vamps. - So no hospital, boy." Jody gave him a stern look. "It's a damn nest and I sure as hell won't dump him somewhere without protection." The lines on her face were a mixture of strain and anger.

Dean glanced back at her in the same manner, telling himself that she was right. And that if this wasn't an omega, he wouldn't even think about dumping the guy at a hospital at all. No matter how bitter this pill seemed, he needed to get over it and deal with the fact that this one would stuck around for a week or maybe two. If he was able to track down the nest faster, maybe less than a week.

Nothing he wouldn't be able to deal with. Just one week of Jasmine, Moss and Wood. Actually he didn't even have to see that guy (though there was still the fact that he had to smell him). Bobby could interrogate him – after all he was a seasoned hunter and knew better how to talk to victims than he possibly could.

Besides, he had gotten pretty rusty in this whole comunication thing. Not to mention that this one was an omega ...

Eventually the Sheriff and Bobby managed to get the omega inside. First they had babbled something about a room upstairs, but decided otherwise since they were already out of their breaths as soon as they carried the man over the threshold into the house. So they agreed on getting him on the couch in the living room.

Dean kept leaning against the door-frame, watching Bobby and the Sheriff settling the omega there and arranging his limbs so that he would lie more comfortable. Bobby brushed past Dean, nudging his shoulder in the process (and high likely deliberately) as he went to get another blanket.

"I'll call Pastor Jim," Dean said and pulled the phone from his jeans, flipping it open. He informed the Pastor aka hunter, aka ex-military-doctor about the omega and that they needed someone to have a look at him. He filled him in on what had happened too.

The Pastor – of course – knew why they chose to call him isntead of getting the man into a hospital.

When that was done, Dean went into Bobby's kitchen and laid the machete right next to him on the counter while he prepared the coffee-maker to brew them all some black gold.

He heard the sheriff and Bobby's muffled voices in the living room, while he leaned there and waited for the coffee to be done.

Of course it wasn't that easy. The pull and want to walk over into the other room and join their conversation as soon as the omega's odor started to infiltrate his nostrils once more was agonizing to say the least.

God blessed his ability of will-power not to do so.

He would have to go in there anyway at some point. Just not now.

The coffee maker gurgled as the rest of the water got transported upwards to drop into the filter with brown powder, when Jody emerged. She held her hat in both hands, tracing the seam of it, while she walked up beside Dean and leaned against the counter beside him.

"Miller's farm was empty," she talked up after a torturing ammount of silence. "There's evidence that there was a nest though. We found the family in the shed. All drawn of blood with bite-marks." Jody stole a glance at Dean and sighed. "I know Henry. - I mean ... I knew him. For years. I'd have never thought ... He didn't change. - How could I not notice?"

Dean looked over at her. "You wouldn't. - There were no deaths before, were there? Maybe he got turned recently ... Maybe ... I don't know either ... And an omega? Since when would they keep an omega. They would know that someone would be lookin' for him. That there's no way that someone wouldn't notice." ... because of his scent. Because of the way omegas scents spread and soak into fabric and wouldn't be able to be washed out or cleaned away. "Where'd he even keep him?"

Jody shrugged. "Guess we'll find out as soon as he wakes up."

Dean nodded to himself. "Bobby's gonna keep him?"

It was Jody's turn to nod. "Yeah. - Until the nest's found and cleared out ... Or until he's ready to leave or return to his family or whatever. I'll take a picture of him later and let it run through our records. Maybe there's something." She paused again. "'I sent Joshua to the club to close it down. Get the people out of there, so we can check it out tomorrow after the Millers."

The coffee-maker went silent behind them. Dean took this as his cue to turn around and get three mugs from the cupboard above the sink and fill them up with the black gold and shots of milk.

"You stayin'?" Dean asked.

"I'm just waitin' for Jim to check him over. For the records. I'll get Josh and Jo to keep watch around the house in case Henry's death didn't go down unnoticed by his nest ... IF there's a nest he belongs to. When they're here I'll head back home." She paused for a brief moment. "Tomorrow we're gonna check out the Miller's farm by daylight, when the forensics are done. You're comin' too?"

Dean glanced over into the living room, catching a glimpse of Bobby's butt as he bowed down over the omega.

Something Dean Winchester rather not wanted to see.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Fine." She gave him a soft smile. "And ..." She cleared her throat. "For the omega ... he'll be gone before you know it. So ... Don't be too hard on him, okay? He ain't Cooper. He didn't hurt anyone as far as we know."

Dean had to smile back – at least a bit. Jody might had this mom-voice sometimes, but she also had this soft side hidden beneath a rough shell. She was amazing. She really was.

He gave her a look. She gave him a look back. "I know it sure ain't easy on you, Dean." She patted his shoulder. "But I think you know what's right, right?"

He nodded and cast his look down. Sure he knew what was right, but he also couldn't change his feelings about the omega next door, whose damn scent would be fucking everywhere by the morning.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Pastor Jim came around an hour later, wearing his priest's uniform, heavy black boots, a black coat and a hat. He looked tired due the early morning-hours in which he had been called. Though, his dull eyes enlightened with sparks of life as soon as the unique scent of the omega crawled up his nose.

It was a mixture of Wood, Moss and Jasmine – actually too feminine – too sweet - for a male omega. There was also fear lingering in the scent. And blood.

At least it seemed that way, since the beta stopped dead in his tracks right after entering Bobby's house. The pastor's grip on his medical kit tightened and his knuckles turned white.

He didn't even have to ask where the omega was, he just had to follow its scent into the living room.

Bobby, Jody and Dean were in there too.

Bobby sat in the recliner he had pulled up right beside the couch where the omega's head rested on a pillow. Jody sat on the coffee-table and Dean leaned against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, beside the fire place.

The omega's eyes were wide open, his gaze darting around between the three of them warily. His lips were pressed into a tight line and he had inched back against the backrest of the couch as far as possible, pressing himself into the withered upholstery.

There was an ugly big scar across the right side of his face, reaching from the very top of his forehead, parting his brow and down over his cheek to shy where the corner of his mouth was.

He hadn't said a single word. He hadn't dared to. After all he didn't know what those people were up to ...

He scrambled up into a straighter position, startling everyone present at the sudden movement, when Pastor Jim thumped into the room, the heavy footfalls on the wood audible in the whole house.

Dean tensed visibly, his jaw working, while his gaze never left the omega.

"Hey." Jody rose from the table, for one to greet the pastor and second to make place.

"Jim." Bobby nodded towards him a hopeful smile on his face, before he drew his attention back at the young man on the couch. "That's Jim," he said to carmly. "He's a friend. - He's gonna have a look at you, boy."

Bobby didn't extend his hand to touch him and give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze – nope. He wasn't the touchy feely guy. After all the man was a grown up between twenty-five and thirty. AND the omega was frightened. A touch might scare him off even more.

Jim greeted Dean with a short nod, before he walked over to the couch and sat his bag on the table. He then took his hat and laid it beside the black medical kit and shrugged off his coat, reveiling an even as black robe as the color of the coat was – except for the white collar around his neck.

"Jim sighed and slipped in between the table and the couch, sitting down on it and leaned forward, catching the omega's gaze.

"Hey. I'm Jim Murphy." The white haired man with bushy eye-brows extended his hand.

The omega pressed himself further into the corner of the couch, eying the hand warily.

He pulled it back again, when the young man wouldn't take it. "You hurtin', kid?" He took in the omega's bruised yaw, cheek-bone and temple. The pastor eyed the split lower lip and bruised, exposed arms, with which he was holding up the blanket against his chest.

The omega shook his head.

"You sure?" The pastor lowered his voice a bit. "You look like you got beaten up pretty good ..." Jim bit his lower lip and seemed to think for a moment. "My friend ... Dean ..." He nodded over his shoulder towards the man who leaned against the wall. "... He told me you're hurt. That ... that you look like you went ten rounds with Ty Olsson."

"Joe Frazier," Dean muttered and rolled his eyes.

Jim Murphy ignored him and put on a soft smile, pointing at the omega's torso. "He said you have a wound ... on your side ... and that there's a lot of blood on your shirt."

The omega followed the older man's finger towards his own upper bodyhalf and frowned.

There was no way he'd let them have his clothes. No way, he'd let them make him undress. They had tried before.

Eventually , he had woken up as they were about to cut his shirt open, but he wouldn't be Sam if he wouldn't have fought them off. Much to his surprise they had pulled back and had given him the blanket back.

Jim looked at him concerned.

Sam blinked his long lashes at the old man, his brows knitting together. The circles of green hazel-eyes shone darkly back at the pastor.

"Why not sedate him. - 's gonna make it easier on him and you?" Dean spoke up and sighed, pushing away from the wall.

Three heads wiped around towards him, glaring daggers into his direction. The fourth pair of eyes went immensely huge and utterly terrified.

"Dean." Jody hissed, while his two male friends seemed too perplexed to find words.

"We won't sedate you, kid," Bobby huffed out as he looked back at Sam and shook his head.

"We won't do anything you don't want us to do." Pastor Jim leaned a bit more forward. "Maybe we should start off with something easier? Your name maybe?"

Sam's lips moved a bit but didn't part.

There was silence.

Sam was observing the three persons for quite some time, until Jim sighed heavily and leaned back again. He turned around to face them and nodded towards the door. "Why don't you guys go and get yourselves some coffee, while I'm talking to him, 'kay?"

Dean's nose scrunched up a bit and he muttered something as he stalked out of the living-room, Jody and Bobby following him.

Pastor Jim closed the sliding door behind them and returned to the omega. This time he sat down on the couch beside him, instead of the couch table. He took care of it, that there was at least half a yard in between him and the omega. He had seen people like him before. Frightened. Terrified. Traumatized for life.

Jim had been in the army, had survived two wars, had seen a whole lot fo brave men die in the lazarettes and only a few survive. He wasn't someone to give up that easy. Not when he could help it.

"So ... You wanna tell me your name?" he asked without looking at the omega directly.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Jo and Caleb arrived about half an hour later and Jody left with the promise to pick Dean up the next morning to take a closer look at the Miller's Farm and Savanger's club.

Dean found himself his old room to flip down on the dusty bed and get a couple of hours sleep while Jim still seemed to be busy with the omega. He hadn't come out of the living room once for the past hour or so.

Though, his hopes to get some rest were fruitless. Dean sighed after another try to calm down his racing mind and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a long time. He then gazed at the machete on the bedside table and pursed his lips.

Nope, there was no way he'd be able to sleep now, so there wasn't any use of laying in bed either.

With an annoyed grunt, he swung his legs out of bed as he sat up on its side and took a deep inhale. Again he groaned, as the omega's scent bore into his brain mercilessely.

Nope, no way he'd be able to sleep like that. Not with that smell in his nose and his damned instincts telling him to protect what he actually hated. Dean got up with a huff, straightened his clothes and walked around the bed to pick up his machete.

He didn't want anything more than to go back around to his own four walls and crash on his own bed. But he couldn't. Not for the love of everything that was holy to him. He knew about the possibility, that the vamp-nest could seek revenge or felt the urge to kill the one person that could reveal them.

So no. He wouldn't leave Bobby's house until the break of dawn when the chances were still high that they could possibly come by to get back what was theirs – or to get revenge for one of their guys death's. After all there were Bobby and Jim – two men who meant a lot to him. Men he didn't want to lose.

Dean rubbed over his face and groaned on his way to the door.

The very moment he pressed the handle downwards, he heard a cry, a yell and clattering noises from downstairs. It didn't even take him a second to switch into huntermode. He practically flew through the corridor and flung himself around the corner and down the stairs, getting to a hold in the middle of the hall.

The door to the living room was open and a groaning Jim lay on the ground, holding his head.

To the other side, smack in the threshold of the kitchen, Bobby made a very similar noise, holding his nose, as distant foot falls hit lose gravel.

Dean hissed through gritted teeth. He turned towards the living room and hurried to get an already filled syringe from the medical kit, Jim had brought along. He checked the label, before he hurried back into the hall and through the open front-door.

Dean then stopped for a minute as he found himself at the foot of the porch and looked around, listening.

The omega wasn't exactly silent at all. Despite his raged breaths, there were these frightened noises he made. His bare feet hitting gravel. Hands sliding along metal. Groaning metal, charring and creaking under a weight.

And, there was still his scent. Strong and impregnating. Filled with sheer terror and fear.

Dean knew exactly where he was.

Baby-blue '53 Buick. Two car-stacks forth and three to the left.

A sly grin spread on his face as he fisted the machete tightly. "Gotcha," he ground out and took off from where he stood, shoving the gravel under his boots backwards and sending tiny kernels of it flying onto the porch's stairs.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Sam leaned against a stack of carwrecks. He shqueezed his eyes shut tightly and held his left side with his right hand, waiting for the pain to subside.

He didn't even know where to go ... where he was. Those people ... they wouldn't be any different than Henry's. Those people had killed Henry. He just knew that he needed to get away – to run. He needed to RUN. And though, his legs wouldn't obey. Couldn't.

So he leaned there against the metalic surface, trying to catch his breath.

Oh god. No. He couldn't. If he could only remember what it was like before. Who he had been before all this screwed up shit had happened. He knew he was supposed to remember. It was in there somehwere.

At least he knew his own name. He could remember his mother's voice – at least he thought it was hers ... At least it was a female one, calling his name in a soft way. Calling him Sammy. Calling him Cupcake ...

If he could only remember where he belonged, where he could go ...

He sucked in a deep breath and held it for a long moment before he released it again.

A loud "Hey!" startled him out of his thoughts and back to the present.

The beam of a flashlight hit him straight into the face, the figure on its other end a bulky blur, seemingly wearing a thick jacket and a hat.

"What are you doin' out here?" it asked, coming closer.

The omega's pupils pulled together as he squinted at the figure. A beta, when his senses didn't betray him completely. He inched back along the wrecked car's side, fingers sliding tentatively along the rusty baby-blue paint.

"Wait," it said, stopping in its tracks. "Everything's okay, buddy. No one's gonna hurt you."

He stopped and squinted into the light once more.

It narrowed again, while babbling nonsense about safety and vampires and danger. Though, he couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't want to make sense out of it.

There was no place he'd be safe. He knew that. Henry had made that clear a long time ago. Had told him the very thing just before he made the omega swallow an ugly looking thick black liquid.

The omega inched further back along the car. The beta kept following him, CROWDING him.

He squinted into the bright light as he withdrew further, one hand against the cold metal beside him.

When he heard the gravel behind him crunch, it was already too late. A pair of arms came up behind him and locked around his middle, drawing him back tightly.

"NO!" the omega yelled furiously as he struggled, incrediously long limbs flying. "No!"

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

Dean watched the omega's shadow move as he lingered behind the car-stack, waiting for his chance. Josh was babbling shit about safety and that no one wanted to hurt the omega. At least the police deputy was drawing the omega's attention at him and away from the ex-hunter.

He watched thin fingers curl around the corner of the cool metal, just inches from where he was standing and grinned.

Dean lowered the machete to the ground slowly, while he let the syringe disappear in the backpocket of his jeans. He might not need it. After all the omega was in no shape to fight a good fight.

He gave the man another fifteen seconds, before he stepped out of his hiding and wrapped his arms around the omega's middle.

Instantly, the taller man's limbs started to fly, his long arms trying to worm their way out of the tight lock.

The ex-hunter tightened his grip, having serious trouble to keep his hold on him. He grunted, when a sharp ellbow hit him in the ribs.

"NO!", the omega yelled, "No!"

"Dammit," Dean ground out, letting himself drop backwards and taking the man with him in an attempt to rob all advantage from him. "Hold still!"

But the omega wouldn't listen, struggling against him, trying to get out of there. He even tried to hit the alpha somewhere – anywhere.

A kick to Dean's knee and he started to get seriously pissed. "Damn FREAKS!" he yelled, sneaking one of his legs around a flying limb – one of the omega's legs. "Would you calm the fuck down already?!" he hissed, his mouth so close to the other man's ear.

"Let me go!" he yelled, his struggles becoming weaker as he wiggled his body in attempt to break free. "Please ... please ... let me go ... let me go," he whimpered, clawing on fabric and skin.

Somehow the omega had managed to turn around in Dean's grasp, tearing and tugging violently on his shirt.

"I can't," Dean said panting, his words lacking any emotion. "I can't let you go."

The omega broke down in sobs, weeping, fisting Dean's favorite grey shirt in his hands. "Don't bring me back. Please. Don't. Let me go ... I won't come back. I promise, I won't come back. Don't ... Don't do this. Please ... don' hurt me."

Dean felt his throat close up, torn between shushing the pathetically whimpering omega and telling him to shut the fuck up and stand like a man.

So he chose to say nothing.

Instead he sat up with the man on top of him, though not letting go in case that this was a trick and he'd try to bolt again. Because he had so no sense for shit like that right now.

Dean exhaled audibly.

The beam of a flashlight shone right into his face. He sqinted his eyes closed, casting his look aside and burying his nose in a mop of shaggy hair in the process. Dena groaned at the intensive smell hitting his olfactory system.

"You guys okay?" the guy behind the flashlight said, training it to the side slightly.

Dean let go of the sobbing omega with one hand and reached back into the backpocket of his jeans. He pulled the filled syringe out and uncapped it with two fingers.

"It's gonna be okay," Dean murmured.

Sam was sobbing into his chest, clawing and pushing weakly at the thin fabric of the alpha's shirt. Weirdly enough, the man's scent wasn't scaring him as much as it should be. The alpha's odor appealed somehow comforting, despite that it shouldn't. He was supposed to feel frightened. He was supposed to feel like he needed to take his feet in his hands and run. But he was flat out terrified of him.

There was a pinch in his bicep. Moments later, his head and limbs started to feel heavy. So did his eyelids.

A choked sob fell from his lips, saliva gathering in his mouth, as his tongue started to feel thick.

Dean threw the emptied syringe away, feeling the taller man's body going limp against him.

Sam's eyes dropped shut and his mind grew foggy. All of a sudden he couldn't remember why he was crying and why he was feeling cold and sleepy.

He couldn't tell if it were seconds or minutes or even hours later, that fatigue started to overtake him and pull him down into darkness.

The last thing he heard, was static and the beta saying "We've got him, Bobby."

... to be continued