Bitter wind blew through one shattered window and out the other. It hit the underdressed Omega jarring him out of unconsciousness. He slowly opened his eyes taking in his surroundings. It took a moment for Dean to remember what happened. Next to him was Dick Roman with a punctured artery; the chauffer with an evergreen branch rammed though his chest and the bodyguard thrown through the window.

Dean had wisely buckled up as soon as he got in inside the vehicle not only for himself but for the baby. The teen finally freed himself from the belt and tried to move. Every muscle in his body felt strained and his gut and ribs ached. He lifted his shirt and saw the beginnings of a massive bruise from the seatbelt. It was still better than being dead any day.

Another gust of wind and snow blasted through the limo. Dean knew he'd die if he didn't get out of there. Dick Roman's long, warm wool dress coat was still on the seat decorated in blood and glass. Dean shook pebbles of safety glass off and put the coat on.

Next he found a cell phone on Roman's body and a pair of cashmere lined leather gloves. For everything he had been through Dean also took the man's watch, wallet and an expensive looking ring.

Dean looked down at his sneakers and knew his feet would be frostbitten in no time. He crawled out a shattered window falling onto the snow.

Dean checked the phone for a signal but found none. "No time to panic, keep going."

He next went to the driver's side and popped the trunk. Inside was a pair of boots Dean assumed belonged to the driver. He had noticed the shiny shoes on the body and figured the man had outerwear put aside more fitting for winter just in case.

They were a few sizes too big on Dean but he secured them snuggly. His feet already felt better. There was an old parka in the trunk. Dean shrugged off the fancy coat and put the practical parka on. He stuffed road flares in a deep pocket and some granola bars along with a frozen bottle of water. There was nothing else that could help him in the trunk but what he had was worth its weight in gold.

Finally Dean went to the mangled form of the bodyguard. He took the watch and a lighter. When Dean found a pistol and a boot knife he felt he felt a sense of relief. Now he had protection.

Climbing up the embankment was slow going but he made it to the main road and headed toward the lights of the town they had just passed through. It was going to be an almost impossible journey.

…..

Sam couldn't settle down with his brother missing. After fixing Javi a snack and a drink Sam went to the guestroom to rummage through Dean's few belongings.

He found a faded photograph of his family. Baby Sammy, Mary, John and little Dean. The adults and Dean had smiles on their faces. Happy times at least from looking at the easy body language and expressions. Sam traced the images with his finger as an overwhelming sadness hit him, a dead mother, drunken and crazy father and now a missing brother.

Sam set it aside and then went through the bits and pieces that made up Dean's life. Matchbooks from different bars and motels were saved in a big baggie. It was Dean's version of collecting postcards from their travels. As he picked through the jumble Sam found a little notebook containing faded names and numbers.

He recognized one of the names. A Hunter he met long ago when he was little. The man had a junkyard. Sam remembered them staying there a few days with their dad.

Bobby Singer, from what Sam recalled was gruff and drank beer but didn't yell at them for playing around the junk until sunset even after making Bobby go look for them. He was more concerned than pissed off and grumbled at the boys calling them idjits. Dean had thought that was hilarious.

When the brothers got inside the big old house there was chili and cornbread waiting for them. The rest of the memories of those days were of a soft bed and plenty to eat. Sam had felt safe there.

He wrote down the phone number in his own journal then put Dean's treasures back.

…

Dean could barely see the lights now with the near white out conditions. Even though it was still day time everything looked grey and white with the sun obliterated by the storm. There were barely any vehicles on the road that was quickly becoming impassable.

Dean noticed something dark approaching him from behind and hoped it was a car but there was no way to tell. Dean took a road flare out of the parka pocket, popped the cap and struck the ends together.

The flair started sparking then fully lit. Dean held it out away from him afraid to drop it in the snow. The dark image coming slowly toward him was visible now, it was a truck. The flair went out and Dean dropped it hoping he had time to light another.

The truck honked then slowed to a stop a few yards away. Dean struggled to the passenger side and opened the door. A grizzled old man looked at Dean suspiciously, "What are you doing out in this weather boy?"

"I-I was hitchhiking and they dumped on the side of the road."

The man drummed his fingers on the steering wheel irritated by the disturbance in his routine. There was no choice; he had to give the boy a ride. "Hop in then."

The truck did its slow crawl toward town. Once there they found the streets were practically empty. Dean found out the man's name was Dewey. When Dewey pulled the truck in front of a bar down a side street the Omega got nervous.

"Why are we stopping here?"

"Because the roads are shit and I'm going to wait it out with a whisky in my hand. It's supposed to clear up tonight and the plows will come out I hope. You can make a call from here and wait for someone to get you." He looked at the boy with blood splattered on his face, "You do have someone to call don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I sure do."

…..

Sam dialed the number not knowing what to expect, when a gruff voice answered, "Singer Salvage" Sam hesitated until the voice on the other end barked, "I don't have all day."

"Is this Bobby Singer?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Sam."

An irritated sigh came from the other end, "Kid why don't you prank someone else."

"I'm John Winchester's son."

There was a long pause and then, "Sam…hells bells boy I haven't seen you in ages. How's your brother?"

"Missing, I'm trying track down dad because I think he knows where Dean is."

"I haven't seen your dad in a coons age, can't say that I miss him though. Now tell me what happened to Dean, did he run away?"

"No, someone took him. Promise me if you see my dad you'll call me please. Here's the number I'm at."

Sam gave Bobby the number for the house and when the man demanded a story Sam gave him the briefest he could think of leaving out most of the details. Bobby promised to ask around about John and make a few calls. He told Sam if they needed help finding Dean he'd put the word out.

…

Dean walked into the hole in the wall with no name out front. The dive bar made him nervous. Dean knew a Hunter when he saw one and there were several mixed in with the locals. It was a bar you either knew about or you didn't, simple as that.

All eyes were on Dean as he limped over to a dark corner table for privacy. He patted the pistol in his pocket just waiting for the first Alpha pig to try and molest him. Strangely not one man approached.

Dean was relieved but wondered what it was keeping them at bay. If he found out what the Alpha repellent was he'd bottle it and give it to other Omegas.

Dewey walked over and set a steaming mug of coffee in front of Dean along with small bag of potato chips. "Here, drink this it'll warm you up some. You get hold of your people yet?"

Dean shook his head negative, "I was just going to call them."

Dewey glanced around the room then back to Dean, "You might want to wash that blood off your face. You look pretty gruesome. What happened to you anyway?"

Dean touched his forehead, "I felt and cut my head open. You know head wounds bleed like hell."

Dewey closed his eyes and tried to will himself not to say what came out of his mouth anyway, "You need to go to a hospital?"

Dean did need a hospital but he needed Castiel more, "No I'm ok thanks though."

Obviously relieved Dewey waved his hand as he walked away, "Alright then I'll leave you to it."

…..

Benny was in the middle of talking his friend out of raiding Spencer's gun safe and shooting John Winchester when Castiel's cell went off. The Alpha checked but the number was listed as private.

"Hello?"

He heard Dean's trembling voice on the other end, "Cas it's me."

"Dean where are you?"

"I'm at…hang on I'll check." Dean asked where he was and though the bar had no name the bartender told him the town and street. He gave the address to Castiel who dictated it to Benny because his hands were shaking too much to write.

"Baby listen to me, the roads are closed out here. Give me the number of the phone you're using, it says private caller. Can you find a phone number anywhere?"

Dean went through the phone and couldn't find anything useful, various files and even the call log was password protected. "I don't know."

"Where did you get the phone?"

Dean's eyelids could hardly stay open. The adrenaline wore off and the events from the kidnapping, brutal exam, molestation, stabbing, the news of his pregnancy and then the car crash topped with physical exertion had wiped him out.

"Cas I don't feel good."

Castiel could hear the Omega's voice hitch as if he was about to start crying. "It's ok now Kitten. I have an idea of where you are and I'm going to get you as soon as I'm able. I'll walk if I have to."

Javi tugged the Alpha's shirt sleeve, "Castiel…"

"Not now Javi."

"But…"

"Shhh, go to Benny."

The Omega gave up and left.

"Dean, don't worry. Dean…are you there?" Castiel heard soft breathing. Either Dean had passed out or fell asleep.

…

Benny put his arm around his pregnant pretty, "Do you want to rest my little princess? I shouldn't have dragged you along with me."

Javi gave Benny a perturbed look, "You didn't drag me along, I insisted. Anyway I might as well have stayed home. No one listens to me anyway."

"What does that mean? I always listen to you."

"Castiel doesn't. I wanted to tell him that Daddy has a fleet of heavy duty trucks to plow out the different businesses that he owns. It's cheaper than hiring a service. We even have one at the estate. I was going to suggest we call him and ask for help. If that idea doesn't work I'm sure he would come up with something. Daddy is a problem solver."

Benny yelled, "Cas!"

…

Dean was shaken awake by the bartender, "Kid you have to go, its closing time." He noticed the speckles of blood covering Dean's face and hair, "What happened to you?"

"Head wound. Can't I stay here a little while? I called my…" he almost said Alpha, "…my uh, friend? He's supposed to come and get me but I don't know when exactly."

"Nope that's not my problem, if the owner found out you were even here it would be my ass on the line."

"Can I at least use the bathroom before you kick me out?"

The man hitched his thumb toward a door down the hall, "Sure its back there."

…..

Dean took off the parka and looked at himself in the cracked mirror over the sink. His normally angelic face looked like a Halloween mask covered in Dick Roman's blood. He got to work with soap and paper towels washing off the shame of the day. When Dean got done most of it was off his face. He still looked and felt like utter crap.

He crept down the hall and peeked around the corner. The bartender must have been in the back supply room. Dean ran for the door and shouted, "Thanks have a good night!"

The bartender yelled, "Good luck." Dean slammed the door then booked it back down the hallway. He couldn't go hide in the bathroom, the guy might actually check. Instead Dean found a storage room littered with junk that hadn't seen the light of day in years. The Omega crawled behind stacks of boxes and waited there listening.

He checked Dick Roman's watch now on his own wrist. The bartender took another half hour to close before Dean heard the back door open, slam shut and the deadbolt click.

…..

The big plow truck had a difficult time getting to Harperville. Castiel watched out the window as if Dean would appear at any second waving to him from the snow covered streets. The storm had abated and the night sky was now awash with stars.

Cas' phone buzzed and he answered immediately, "Dean, are you still at that bar?"

"Yeah, it's closed now but I hid in the backroom. The guy was gonna kick me out otherwise." Dean added, "I don't feel so good."

Castiel knew Dean didn't say he was sick or hurt unless he was really in a bad way. It came from a lifetime of needing to appear strong at all times.

"I'm coming honey. Mr. Mercado had some trucks and…and that doesn't matter now. We are about a half hour away, the roads held us up. I promise it'll be ok. Do you trust me?"

"Always Cas."

"Good, be my strong, brave Omega and as soon as I get there I'll take care of everything."

….

Castiel pointed excitedly to the street sign, "There, that's the one."

The driver slowly turned down the side street and found only one doorway practically hidden along the stretch of was no sign just as Dean had said. The driver stopped in front and kept the engine running, "I'm not parking or I might not get back out. Go get your boy."

Dean had unlocked the door and waited inside. When Castiel crept in and whispered loudly, "Dean where are you?" the Omega stepped out from his new hiding spot behind the bar and Castiel ran to him. He scooped Dean into his arms and felt his lover collapse against him. It was too much effort to stand.

Castiel carried him out to the truck, lifted Dean inside then jumped in. "I need to get him to a doctor. Can we make it?"

The driver checked his phone for the nearest hospital, "It'll take about an hour I expect. There is one located on our way back. The plows should be clearing the highways at least so we should be ok." He looked over at Dean now curled up practically on Castiels lap like a giant cat, "What's wrong with him?"

The Alpha wrapped his arms around his Omega, "I don't know."

…

Spencer had gotten a call from Castiel informing him that they were at the hospital so Dean could get checked out. Spencer said he would pick them both up when Dean was ready.

Spencer was royally pissed someone under his own roof was hurt this way. The elder Alpha prided himself on being able to take care of his own and yes, Dean was becoming one of Spencer's own.

To tell the truth Spencer had grown to genuinely like the Winchester boys. Of course he still wished for his privacy but Scotty loved Sam and Dean along with all the fun, youthful energy they gave off. Spencer figured if his wife was happy then peace would reign.

…

Mateo Mercado called Spencer inquiring about Dean on his son's behalf. Mateo said Javier was very concerned. Spencer told him Dean was getting checked out by a doctor but he was back in Castiel's care.

Mateo said something cryptic, "My son still talks about his time at the lake with Dean and how the boy taught him to throw a knife. Dean was so kind and patient with Javier. My son has no friends so that meant everything to him. Javier considers Dean a friend now. Seeing my son smile means everything to me. Because of that I'll take care of the people responsible for whatever happened to Dean Winchester. Also I'm indebted to Castiel for finding Javier a proper mate."

"Thank you Sir, I appreciate this. What exactly does that mean, take care of them?"

Mateo answered, "It means don't worry about it. See you on Monday Novak."

"Yes Sir, thank you again."

TBC

A/N- The expression "in a coon's age" dates to the early 1800s, and to the folk belief that raccoons are long-lived. References differ, but a wild individual raccoon might live up to 5 to 7 years (average survival being much lower, though, probably 2-3 years), and in captivity they can live up to 14-17 years. So their lifespan is comparable to that of a dog.

In the early 1800s, it's doubtful if anyone knew how long raccoons actually lived, and two to three years in the wild is not really very long. But raccoon fur is hardy and reasonably durable, which might have given rise to the belief of longevity.

Other versions would be "in a dog's age" or "in donkey's years" (British), which have the same meaning. Or "in a month of Sundays"