I know there was a lot of anticipation for this chapter. I have worked on it and tweaked it until I am happy with it. I really hope you will enjoy reading about Sam and Dean's reunion...
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Dean pinches the soft skin inside his wrist. Is this real? Is he actually embraced in a warm Sammy hug?
Sam's arms swaddle him. They span his back, imbuing warmth through cotton layers. Sam is like a furnace, running hot, his heady familiar scent of little brother and protect filling Dean's senses. The omega breathes in long lost fraternal alpha goodness; that smell that emerges from the spine of a new book, and iron rich burnt copper pennies with a hint of peppermint. Around the time Sam had shot up like a beanpole and popped his knot, his wonderful layer of milky pup scent had vanished, but Dean imagines he can pick it up now, under layers of mature alpha, present for the omega who raised him. He presses his nose into the smooth skin of Sam's neck, wowed that this is as far as his face reaches on his not so little brother. The errant voice at the back of his brain queries how disconnected this Sam is from the one who dropped him like a stone.
"Dean." Sam gushes simply.
"Sammy," Dean gasps. For the first time his collar feels restrictive. He wishes he'd left it on the bedside shelf for Benny to adorn him later. Then he could have eased Sam into the reality of his new life. He licks his lips, looks down at his boots and Sam's Converse. He fears raising his gaze, that Sam's reaction will match their father's judgment.
Sam moves his hand to stroke Dean's arm, "Dean. It's so good to see you, Man."
Dean shoves down the, admittedly larger, part of him that wants to whine 'Sammy' and stay wrapped in his embrace. He wriggles out of the hug, in as mature a fashion as he is able, and lets his wronged side take control.
He braces his back against the wall and points his finger, "Why did you ignore my calls? Why are you here? Freaking Hell, how are you here? Aren't you meant to be in Stanford, too busy to speak to your family?"
"I'm sorry I didn't call," Sam wipes damps eyes with the back of his hand. His scent sours with uncertainty. "I didn't know what to say, how to start after all this time. When I found out…"
"But I told you," Dean blurts, eyes wide, not letting Sam finish.
"What?" Sam's head jerks back.
"I left messages on your phone, with Brady, but you never…" Dean's voice breaks, worn from repeated disappointments.
Sam takes three steps in one, pulling his brother into a new patent crushing hug, "I never got 'em. I swear, Dean. I thought you'd dropped me like Dad ordered."
Sam's hazel eyes dip to chocolate with emotion. Dean presses his palm to his little brother's cheek, tanned from Californian sun even at this time of year. He takes a moment to assess Sam. He's taller, which hadn't seemed possible, but hasn't yet built up alpha muscle that his adult frame promises. He looks on the thin side to Dean's critical eye, maybe not eating enough living on that scholarship of his. Dean always made sure Sam was a well fed growing alpha, so much so that while Dean's ribs were boney, twelve year old Sam was verging on chubby, until John stepped in with a military training regime.
Musing, scent inhaling, and stroking his brother's face are interrupted by Sam adding softly, gaze dropped, "Dean, I…" He pauses to huff, commencing a rationalized explanation, "I wanted a new life, a…."
Too tossed about emotionally to listen to the 'normal life' spiel again, Dean raises his palm. His omega caretaking is driven by his love for Sam. It pleads with him to forgive and forget, but the last couple of years have not been kind ones. Dean went through dark, difficult and lonely days that could have been brightened and made more bearable by hearing Sam's voice.
"Yadda yadda. Normal people have families, y'know?"
"I know. I do, Dean." Sam's voice takes on a pleading tone. "I guess, at first I needed a complete break from The Life, from feeling so out of place, so wrong all the time. Then it got harder to pick up the phone, the longer I didn't call…"
"I called." Dean folds his arms.
Sam takes a breath, blinking at his older brother. "What can I say? Brady screens my calls. It started as a joke, that he was my PA, but I'd told him, freshman year, that I didn't want to speak to anyone from before…"
"Do you still hate us that much? That you couldn't make an exception…" Dean wants to say 'for me', but it hurts too much, sounds too selfish, won't pass the lump in his throat.
"I'm sorry. For real. So sorry, Dean. I should have. I never thought about it. Never asked Brady about who called or what they said. Stanford is like a whole different world, but I should have…."
"So how come you are here now? Did you answer Bobby's call?"
"What? Bobby?" Sam shakes his head. "John turned up, drunk and ranting. He turned up at my dorm. Stinking drunk alpha Dad. I could barely look at him as he hissed low enough that others wouldn't hear that he needed me for a hunt. A hunt? I told him where to send that idea. But then he says last time he hunted ghouls solo he got injured, so I shot back at him where was…" Sam winces, "his obedient little soldier."
Dean draws breath through his nostrils. The joy of seeing Sam is fading under well worn arguments and insults. He hears the creak of floorboards from above. Benny is at the top of the stairs, to call when Dean needs him. He is not intruding on their reunion. He waits for Dean's signal, gifting the brothers a semblance of privacy. Deep in Dean's bones, the trust and rightness of this helps him to summon his inner strength. He raises his head to face his alpha brother eye to eye. Defiant, he is shocked to find Sam's eyes liquid with pain.
"Damn bastard said you were gone with such finality. And I thought, geez Dean, I thought you were dead. I had him pinned to the wall, wanted to rip his throat out. The security guys, who turned up to kick him out, had to pull me off him. I was roaring, demanding he tell me what happened. Then he laughs. He laughed at me. Told me you weren't killed in action, that you'd followed my lead, and walked away, that I should call Bobby if I wanted."
"Ahem," Bobby clears his throat, stepping inside, "Y'all think I could come into my own house now?"
"You knew?" Dean gapes at him.
"How'd you think a frigging student on a scholarship got the greenbacks to fly to Sioux Falls for Spring Break?"
"I called Bobby," Sam resumes, "You were in Texas chasing a ghost."
Dean nods, lips pressed tight, reserving judgment.
"I kind of freaked about you hunting on your own."
"Been doing that a while, dude. And I wasn't alone."
"Bobby filled me in." Sam's eyes fix on Dean's collar. "You were with your mate. I know I could have called, but I didn't know what to say. Bobby sorted it for me to come once we broke up for Spring Break."
"Shoulda been here an hour ago, if your layover wasn't delayed in Denver." Bobby grouches, patting Sam and then Dean on the shoulder as he bypasses them to enter the living area, "Well, idjits, gonna stand there like staring hat-stands all day. And you," Bobby shouts upwards, "Lafitte, get your butt down here too."
Benny makes his appearance, coming downstairs and taking Dean's hand in his. He rubs circles with his thumb. Dean tilts his head to his mate. Benny looks good, freshly showered, beard trimmed, wearing his dark canvas trousers and grey suspenders over a neutral flannel collarless shirt.
"Sam, this is my Alpha, Benny Lafitte." Dean might be verging on formality, but he wants to show his baby brother that Benny is deserving of his respect. "Alpha, this is Sam."
Benny extends a hand. For a second, there is hesitation. Dean dies inside, before Sam steels his nerve or his sense of decorum, and grips the older alpha's palm. The shake is brief and crushing on both sides, more a declaration of cold war hostility than joining of new family.
"Pleased to meetcha, Brother," Benny nods, keeping his free arm tight around Dean's waist, "Heard a lot about you, Sam."
"Yeah?" Sam throws a quick glance at Dean who shrugs. What does Sam want? A recap of every word Dean has told his alpha? A lot of it was boasting of how great Sam is, how clever he is, how proud Dean is of him. No way is Dean gonna reveal those details. Sam's head might explode.
"Sofa?" Benny jerks his head towards the window. The omega nods, glowing at how his mate knows room to sit on his alpha's lap is just what Dean needs about now.
Sam gapes as his tough hunter brother climbs onto Benny's wide lap, tucking his feet into the seat cushions, leaning his back to his alpha's chest.
"Having trouble there, Sam?" Dean cannot help rubbing his mated status in, just a little. Fact is Sam could have known, could have been their witness at their mating ceremony, if he had kept in touch.
"No." Sam looks awkward, "I guess… You look like mates."
"Whatd'ya expect?" Dean snorts, "Freaking two headed hydra?"
Sam grins. Tension dissipates. He flops into a chair. Bobby appears with three beers and a vitamin shake for Dean.
"When this pup is weaned, I want a crate of El Sol." Dean snickers, slurping down the admittedly tasty fruit concoction.
"When the what is the where now?" Sam asks leaning dramatically forward.
"Balls." Bobby hisses.
"You didn't tell him?" Dean's eyes dart from Bobby to Sam. Benny's hand drifts inconspicuously down over Dean's stomach.
"You scent much sweeter, Dean," Sam's big brain begins to process the news, "But mates' scents combine…. Oh My God… Oh My Freaking God…"
"Ha! There it dawns." Dean intones.
"A pup?"
Sam vaults forward. Incidentally his new brother-in-law gets swamped in the congratulatory hug.
"Oh My God, Dean, that's amazing." Sam huffs in wonder. "I'm going to be an uncle."
"How did he get that scholarship?" Bobby snorts fondly.
"When? What? How?"
Benny chuckles. "You sure you wanna know that, Bub?"
Sam blushes, kneeling on the mat to look up at his brother, "You must have come off sups a while ago? Did Dad relent?"
Dean gulps. "No, wasn't that Sam. I guess I finally found that backbone you thought I didn't possess."
Benny's chest rumbles a low protective growl.
Sam looks horrified. "I never meant…"
"It's all good, Sammy. I obeyed Dad, every time, always, but what we did, it was to revenge Mom, but it was also to protect you, keep you safe… and with you gone, and hunting, and travelling, and growing up," Dean shrugs one shoulder, "I stopped 'em. We had a huge blow out fight and he got me on them again, alpha-ordered me. But I was up in the Cascades, and I ran out, and I never renewed my scripts, didn't tell him, and this time when we met up again in Philadelphia he kicked my ass to the curb and sent me off to a godforsaken island off Maine to get out of his sight, thought it was a non-hunt, I figure, and that I'd see sense, crawl back to him and take the freaking sups and maskers."
The short speech drains his energy but it gives his attentive brother the headline news.
"You okay, Sugar?" Benny breathes into his ear.
"Yes, Alpha." Dean leans back against his firm chest. "Found a real hunt on Gauntlet and found my mate."
Benny kisses below his collar, on the side of his claiming bite.
"Wow." Sam puffs. "Did you know? I mean, immediately, that you were mates?"
Dean is saved from delving into his clandestine romantic feelings.
"The moment I saw him," Benny says wistfully squeezing Dean closer, "I wanted to save, cherish, protect and hold him forever. I wanted to bare my teeth and tear into every motherfucking asshole who would dare to inflict hurt or pain on him."
Dean shivers in a mix of swoon-like desire with an undercurrent memory wave of his alpha ripping into the douchebags out back of The Lookout. A small release of slick dampens below. A purring rumble and hard pressing on Dean's crack tells that his alpha is just as inopportunely aroused.
"Impressive." Sam nods, either not picking up, or diplomatically ignoring the release of mating pheromones. He meets Benny's gaze straight on, "I better be sure that I don't fall into asshole category."
"You don't." Dean is quick to reassure, while picking up on cues in Benny's scent that his Alpha is deadly serious that if Sam does hurt his omega, then he will feel Benny's wrath. Dean rubs his palm down the side of Benny's thigh. A drop in alpha confrontation pheromones would be great right about now.
Seems Bobby agrees, "How about some food, guys? Sam betchya you've been grazing on in-flight snacks since dawn?"
Dean tenses to jump up, raid Bobby's kitchen and rustle up a nutritious meal for his family.
"Stay." Benny mutters.
"Alpha," Dean dampens down his instinct to follow jump with how high, almost sighing as he relaxes his muscles.
Bobby's eyebrows rise and fall at their little display of domestic give and take. Sam's eyes have narrowed too. Dean wishes he knew what his brother is thinking. Long time ago he believed he could virtually read Sam's young mind, as every emotion played across his brother's expressive face, every little scent change setting off programmed bells in Dean's noggin, but all that was dashed when Sam's secret plans for Stanford were revealed, and now Dean wonders how much his brother has changed, grown, matured in the intervening time.
"How about Mexican?" Bobby suggests. "Mesquite still does the best TexMex in Sioux Falls, Sam."
"Can't we do burgers?" Dean bleats.
"Not every night, Darlin'" Benny chuckles.
"We had pizza last night." Dean pouts.
"Thought you couldn't get better cheese chili fries than at Mesquite." Sam reminds Dean of their teenage takeout treats at Bobby's.
"Sure, says the guy who ordered a taco salad every time." Dean nods, a small smile rising on both brothers' faces at the shared memory.
"Menu is in the stack of papers on the ledge," Bobby points to the kitchen. "Dean and I know what we want."
Smacking his lips in anticipation of spicy cheesy beefy goodness, Dean confirms, "Uh-huh. I'll have the Grande Burrito, with all the fixings."
"And extra onions." The other three parrot in unison.
Mildly offended that his refined palate is so predictable, Dean shelves his effort to come up with a witty retort, instead he challenges, "Betchya can't guess my dessert choice."
"Only 'cause they've got six kinds of pie," Bobby snorts.
Dean sniffs, "The pup wants a slice of key lime. Oh and those mini donuts on a stick smothered in confectioners' sugar."
"The pup does," Benny exaggerates a sage nod.
Dean hums his confirmation.
"Why don't you alpha boys make your selections?" Bobby prompts.
Benny lifts Dean from his lap, eliciting a small whine of protest, that the omega is sure was too quiet for the others to hear. Once Benny and Sam are in the kitchen area, Bobby swivels towards Dean.
"We good, Son?"
Dean is perplexed. He would like a clue here.
"'Bout Sam? That day I urged you to call him, I was hoping to Hell you'd agree, 'cause I'd already spilled the proverbial beans all over the floor."
Dean sniggers at the image of Bobby surrounded by scattered dried beans. "We're good. I dunno if my pride would ever have allowed you to make that call, but y'know, it's damned nice to have the pipsqueak here."
"He's mighty tall for a pipsqueak." Bobby reaches to pat Dean's knee, double tapping his understanding.
At the edge of Dean's hearing he picks up his family alphas' voices change into hissed challenging whispers. He rises, brow drawn, edging closer.
"…will find work in Idaho… provide for my mate and pup… No way will he live in the manner your father raised you boys."
"I didn't want him or me to live under Dad's thumb."
"Then why did you bail on Dean?" Benny glares at Sam.
Dean is torn between his two most beloved alphas. "Benny, no."
The older alpha remains focused on Sam, whose nostrils are almost steaming in defiance. The atmosphere is pinging with alpha antagonism.
"Your omega brother, you couldn't offer him a place to lay his head, a home?" Benny spits wrongs that have been brewing in his brain for months, "Why didn't you give him that? Why did you leave him there?"
"I'm a student." Sam protests. "I'm struggling to fight my way through college."
"Excuses." Benny fires back.
Dean opens his mouth to find peacemaking words but he is stumped. They are fighting about him, what does he say? If he says it is fine, then he is taking Sam's side and it is not fine. If he accuses Sam, he rubs salt into his little brother's regrets.
"And I suppose you are all that." Sam curls his nose, "Living on charity…"
"That is enough." Dean actually waves his palm in the narrow space between their faces. "Charity? Sammy?"
Sam manages to look both sheepish and wounded puppy at the same time.
Dean continues tersely, "We have done a deal with Alice, a sweet deal, helped by Bobby, but we've a side to uphold. Is your scholarship charity? And what the ever living fuck is wrong with taking help, Sammy? Have you conveniently forgotten goodwill stores, used school texts donations, nights I queued at homeless soup vans to get us a meal? Do you think Dad left oodles of cash at Jim's, Bobby's, or Donna's in Housatonic, when he'd vanish for weeks?"
"No, Dean," Sam hangs his shamefaced head.
"It is not going to be like that," Benny stresses, "We are not raising our pup on the road."
"Damn right." Dean mutters.
"I hear ya," Sam sighs, "I only wanted to…"
"Watch my back?" Dean offers a conciliatory grin, "Hey, Sammy, Alpha is one of the good ones. You don't need to worry."
Sam nods. He offers his hand to Benny who grasps it firmly. The handshake is a do over, still bone cracking but this time both alphas are on even solid ground.
Bobby breaks the moment by reminding everyone that they were meant to be sorting their evening meal. He almost initiates new conflict when he insists on paying for and collecting their last night in Sioux Falls cum family reunion feast.
Benny grabs his coat to accompany him. He throws an arm over Dean's shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You and Sam got a lot of talking to do. Take a spell without your protective surrogate uncle and your nosy mate about."
Dean plants his hands on his alpha's cheeks. He tips their noses together and rubs a caress. "Not nosy" grinning wide, sharing air. "Curious growly protective alpha."
"Amazing, wonderful, strong omega," Benny returns, hushed into the shell of Dean's ear.
Resisting the urge to smack Benny's rear, Dean beams, watching as his mate turns in the doorway to wink goodbye.
"So Sammy? You wanna unpack your shit?" Dean jerks his head upwards, "Our old room is free. Alpha and me are at the end of the corridor."
Sam bends down to the duffel at his feet, rooting between his clothes, "Sorta hard to bring you a waffle iron, and though Bobby sounded pleased with it all, I wasn't sure what I'd find, so I got you this."
A key is pressed into Dean's palm. He squints at it, then at his brother.
Sam licks his lips, drops his gaze to the gift he has just given. His bangs fall over his eyes. "It's a key."
"Yes, Captain Obvious?"
"To my dorm room." Sam rushes on, "And it's not cause of what your mate said just now. I had the copy made in Palo Alto. And I know it's like millions of months too late, but if you ever need somewhere…"
Dean figures there is a part of him that should be insulted on behalf of his alpha, or a piece of him ready to berate Sam for all the times he could have bolted to California since that fateful night when he drove Sammy to the bus, but instead he is one hundred percent freaking touched and downright speechless. His scent and his face tell Sam enough. The young alpha nods with a slender smile. The beam Dean returns heals a lot of paper-cut wounds.
"I won't need it." Dean says as he follows Sam to the kitchen and they begin to lay out cutlery and plates. "Unless I come to wreak my revenge by midnight pranking."
"Ha!" Sam teases, "With your mate and a pup trailing along?"
"Could call you up every time the pup wakes in the night." Dean sticks to his theme.
"Could trust Brady with my phone 24/7," Sam quickly returns.
"Would serve him right for not passing my messages." Dean winces, "I mean, I told him I was mated."
It is Sam's turn to wince. "He didn't believe you."
"What? Sammy, who jokes about shit like that?"
"I know," Sam plunks down on a chair. "He was pretty sorry when John left."
"Less about the douchey alpha buds you've picked up in California." Dean says for the sake of the warm fraternal banter he has been enjoying. "How you been?"
"Good." Sam cards a hand through his hair. "Great. I love Stanford. Pre-law is fascinating. You should see the libraries."
"Libraries? What about your love life, Sammy? Come on, no dorky admirers?" Dean joshes.
Sam shakes his head at Dean's tease. His bites down on his lower lip.
"There is!" Dean whoops. "I knew it. Come on, spill, Tiger!"
"Shuddup, I blew off my third date to come see your annoying ass."
"My ass is in no way annoying. Ask Benny... Ahem, did you say you got to third base?"
"No, Jerk!" Sam laughs. "Jessica is… she's not a fumble in the back seat kind of omega. Brady introduced us. Jess writes for The Stanford Daily and she was doing a series on scholarship students. She's intelligent, real put together, and wow, Man, is she pretty."
"Way out of your league then?"
"Shuddup." Sam repeats.
Waiting for the others to return, Dean can sense his little brother's thoughts turning down a more serious path. He opens his mouth to suggest TV as a diversion, but Sam's got his palms turned up on his lap, fingers touching. Dean braces for some unwelcome comment or inquisition.
"You seem happy, Dean." Sam begins. "But, you know, this isn't what I would have wanted for you. You could have gone to university, had a life of your own too."
"Can you even hear yourself?"
"What?"
"You and Dad are more alike than you'll admit. He wanted me to be his beta hunting partner. You'd have me slaving over books for some academic goal."
"You are more than capable, Dean, I doubt you'd have to slave to succeed."
"But I don't want that. I wanted it for you, wanted you to achieve your nerdy dreams. I got my GED," He ignores Sam's pitying headshake. "This is my life. I have my alpha. We are making a new home together, a safe harbor for our pup. Please, Sam, can you try to, I dunno, understand, even if you can't be happy for me?"
Sam pulls out the puppy dog eyes. "I want to be happy for you. I think back to all those times it drove me crazy when you would follow every demand Dad made. I would lose my temper, but I was never angry at you, Dean. Not really."
"Sammy…"
"You would bend and flex to suit his needs, and I could see, I could see how hard it was, but he was my Alpha-Dad too, and no matter how I defied or tried to stand up to him, it made no difference. I was so scared that one day you'd snap like a twig."
"Hey," Dean urges Sam back into the now, "Hey Sammy. I'm good. Don't freak out on me. I'm good. I got my own life, like you wanted."
"But do you? I see you collared. Geez Dean, it's not like I didn't think that one day you'd find a mate, but you're wearing his collar, sitting on his lap like a freaking doll," Sam grows more outraged as he speaks. "Hell, Dean, you don't even call him by name."
Much to Sam consternation, Dean bursts out laughing. He bends double, tears verging on rolling down his cheeks. "Oh Sam," He tries to catch his breath, "Oh Geez. Benny… he wanted me to use his name, but it was a tease, a flick of whatever, my contrariness. It makes me put my tongue in my cheek and call him Alpha. Haven't you seen how cute he smiles when I do it?"
"You for real?"
"Yes!" Dean protests, "It's our in-joke. He never commands me, orders me about like Dad. Me and Benny, we make our decisions together. If I know more, like on a hunt, I take the lead… am 'Alpha General' Benny says."
"Okay," Sam intones carefully. "Alright. I'll give him a break. But I'm calling him out on anything suspect."
"Benny? Suspect? You'll be waiting until you're old and grey, Princess." Dean chortles.
"I hope so." Sam says softly, a mini-smile gracing his features, just enough to let shallow dimples show. With a beckoning gesture he asks Dean to sit beside him, "Can I scent you?"
Dean plops down, brows drawn tight at the unexpected question.
"I've missed you, Dee." Sam verges on shy. "And I'd like to pick up the sweetness of the pup."
"I'm not removing my collar. And it is my collar, I picked it and I wanted it." Dean pronounces defensively while tilting his neck for his little brother's cold nose to find a home under his ear. "Bitch! You could least have warmed up the tip of your honker."
"Shuddup." Sam murmurs into his skin.
Dean rests his hand on his brother's back, almost unconsciously stroking his spine. So many times over the years, Sam would be upset about moving, about bullies, about not meeting his own scholarly expectations. To the world and their father he had to present a tough alpha front, but being consoled by Dean behind closed doors, Sam could be a pup, young, vulnerable, sensitive and loving.
"Missed you too." Dean confesses, resting his head against Sam's skull.
When the smell of hot spicy goodness jerks Dean from his and Sam's fugue like intermission, everyone treads the strategic path of never mentioning finding sleepily relaxed brothers with chairs tilted together, arms entangled like little pups.