Warning for mpreg birth (non-graphic imho) and fluff, lots of fluffy fluff.
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Long warm summer days turn to fall, finding the Lafitte mates firmly settled in their home, or 'Nested to Dean's Satisfaction' as Benny calls it to anyone who enquires. They get to know their neighbors, all long time residents whose properties are spread sparsely along Dingle Road south from Montpelier to Bear Lake. Their cabin, on the east side of the stretch, is set back from the road, with just shy of an acre of private back lot behind. This measure of privacy is welcome on the few occasions that they do entertain passing hunters. Weary dudes, and one alpha huntress, grace their home less frequently than Dean had imagined. Sometimes weeks will go by without any new face, although in May, while they were still trying to get the cabin into ship shape, they had four unexpected visits. All, save one, have been made welcome, given a place to lay their heads and rest up. Learning from experience, Benny has a stack of pancakes in the freezer and vacuum packed bacon always in the refrigerator. Dean possesses a well stocked amateur emergency medical kit. Benny turns a blind eye when stitched up Beta Walt contributes contraband Percocet to Dean's hoard as a gesture of thankfulness for the omega's care. The only hunter refused refuge is a raving lunatic who turns up in the middle of a chilly moonless October night. Spouting shouted nonsense about vampires who had gotten his sister, the dude claims he has a vampire chained up in his truck and is looking for somewhere to torture it for information. There is not a hope in Hell that Alpha Benny Lafitte would let that wacko through the door of his home. Dean turns over in their bed, rubs circles on his pup bump, puts his pillow over his ears, assuring Benny that vampires are as imaginary as Bigfoot and the Tooth Fairy.
At the tail end of his summer break, Sam comes to spend time with his brother. He had retained his in term time job in a local Palo Alto bookstore during the vacation, but arranged ten wonderful days in Idaho before he would return to Stanford. Hoping his alpha brother was not expecting a relaxed easy going spell, Dean and Benny get Sam involved in their cabin projects. They do take him to see the local sights and to eat at both their favorite diner and Benny's workplace, however the main event of Sam's stay is planting a fine solid six foot high fence into a perimeter trench of salted concrete. It is a two man job, with Dean as advice giver. Benny cannot complain about Dean's instructions of 'Right a bit' or 'Is that level?', because he had almost fallen to his knees reasoning with his omega that such heavy work is out of the question at six months pregnant. If Sam mutters cuss words about his bossy omega brother, then Dean, who understands a grouchy Sammy better than anyone, takes them with a pinch of salt. More accurately he refills the sugar shaker with salt and watches with undisguised glee as Sam drenches his douchey fruit salad.
Throughout fall the aspens surrounding their cabin glow flame red, enticing Dean to wrap up warm and take his much craved hot chocolate mugs on their renovated porch swing. Benny joins him in the evenings, bringing blankets and extra rugs, until the temperatures dip low and they adjourn to cozy log fires, snuggling in front of the TV. The glorious trees shed their leaves in one blow out November storm. Encroaching icy tentacles of winter on mountain trails provoke contradiction. The landscape is bleaker and yet offers a warm reminder to beloved mates of meeting on Gauntlet amid snowfalls, Atlantic gales, and ice covered paths.
Thanksgiving is a quiet affair. Benny works the morning shift at The Soda Springs Resort, less than an hour north. His alpha brings back holiday fare, so cooking does not need to happen at home. Dean does ensure there is a pot of homemade tomato rice soup on the stove, so he can serve a cup to warm his alpha's bones when he returns. Meanwhile there are calls to Bobby, who is on a hunt outside Cincinnati, and to Sam, who is spending the day with the Moore family a few hours journey south of Palo Alto. Dean is on the verge of asking Bobby to research some nefarious spell to bring on labor, but he would never in a million years put his pup in the way of harm, so the idea of magically popping his son out remains a wistful fantasy.
Afternoon into evening, involves an uncomfortably overdue Dean being plied with multiple varieties of pie while indulging in an Indiana Jones marathon. Benny joins him on their comfy sofa, wrapping him in warm arms, humming Cajun lullabies into his hair when the last movie ends.
The following day, melancholy dips Dean down. He rests his hand on the dripping kitchen faucet. Benny has promised fix it. It probably needs a new washer. Dean would do it in a flash, but his current impression of a basketball carrier prevents clambering into the cabinet below to turn off the water. He stares through the wide glass of their kitchen window overlooking the white dusted icy back yard with bare trees. Benny has been taking on any overtime available at the hotel, doing room service nights and breakfast service along with his official role as Hofbrau Lunch King. Dean tells his inner neglected mate that his alpha is putting in all this effort so he can take vacation time from the moment their boy enters the world. Just about now, Dean craves company. He shakes his head at how ludicrous his hormones are making him. All those days when it was just his Alpha-Dad and him, when his muscles ached and his head pounded from suppressant side effects, there was nothing Dean wanted more than peace and quiet, except maybe Sam back in his life. He tries to pull his emotions out of a downer by counting his blessings, of Sam being on the end of a phone or a laptop and coming for the holidays, of the peace and safety of their own protected home, of being able to offer some assistance to other hunters, and of his beloved mate who really should be getting his ass home soon.
The sound of the door banging and a zephyr of freezing air presages Benny's arrival. Dean smiles without realizing it.
"Cold as a witch's tit," Benny drawls, "to borrow one of Bobby's phrases."
Dean tilts his cheek for a kiss.
"What ya doing, Sugar?" Benny asks as he begins to peel off layers of scarf, coat and jacket.
"Thinking." Dean admits.
"Good thoughts?"
"Dunno," Dean sighs, "I wish my Mom was here."
The words pain him. Mary has been on his mind. More as he enters the final days of his pregnancy. He misses her. He wishes she was here to witness this, to offer golden nuggets of advice, to see her grandson. He would have loved her to be there for his ultrasounds, to join with Benny in feeling their pup's early kicks, to be able to grouse and moan about acid reflux and swollen ankles to the one person who could have intimately both understood and unconditionally loved him. His memories of Sam's birth are hazy at best. One day Mom was rounded with Sammy in her belly, then she was in hospital where Dean couldn't see her, and then a squirming pink milky scented pup was being presented to him as his little brother. He treasures and hoards every snippet of memory of his wonderful omega mother, and vows that if he can be even a fraction as awesome with his own pup he will have done a very good job indeed.
Benny pulls Dean under his arm, leaning his head on his mate's. "I know you do. I wish my parents were still with us. I know they'd have loved you, Darlin'."
Dean huffs lightly. Even after all these months he finds it hard not to dismiss the astounding compliments that his alpha whispers in his ear.
"Mom would've adored you." Dean says, and as he does he believes it completely. Mary would have thrown a parade for such a mate as Benny who offers such loving care and joy to her firstborn pup.
Pup Lafitte picks that moment to head butt or placekick his omega mother with crushing force. Dean lets out a whoosh of air.
"Someone's more awake than his Daddy." Benny adds a wide yawn.
"That's it." Dean declares. "Naps all round."
"How about you brew me a double strength Joe, and I fix that damned faucet?" Benny offers but his eyes are drooping.
"Fourteen hours since you walked out that door to cover stupid dumb flaky night cook Billy's absence," Dean plants a hand on where he is sure his hip is hiding, "I say we all lie down a spell. I'll put Dr Sexy on the portable in the bedroom if you'll be bored."
Benny snorts a fond chuckle. "Do you want to sleep, or beg me to deal with your fanboy hard on?"
Dean whacks him on the arm. He wiggles his eyebrows. "Hey, Alpha, any incidental sexy times will have nothing to do with Dr Sexy."
"Damn right, Sugar, 'cause TV's staying off." Benny insists, tugging a very willing Dean by the arm towards their bedroom.
If the smirk on the omega's face is due to everything working out exactly as he planned, then no one need know how he used Benny's jealousy of his favorite show for the win.
Late that night the sky is crystal clear, stars bright to the south. The glow of Montpelier's street lights obscures them slightly in the northern sky. Dean takes a mug of hot chocolate to the porch, wrapped up against the chill, one blanket covering his legs and a plaid rug over his shoulders.
"You good?" Benny enquires as he follows.
"Uh-hum," Dean nods. His lower back has been niggling since their pleasant short afternoon nap. When a contraction hits him like a wave, he knows with deep certainty that it is not Braxton Hicks.
Benny knows too, scenting the air with pupils dilated. "Are you started?"
"Maybe," Dean doesn't want to raise hopes, but he feels that his pup is coming. He cups his bump, imagining he can feel energy thrumming through his skin.
His hot chocolate has been consumed when the second wave peaks and eases away. He nods at Benny who hustles to call the hospital, put Dean's birthing bags into the Impala, and let the hotel know he won't be there in the morning.
Dean alternately grips his mate's arm or leg on the short trip from their rural retreat. Being in physical contact with his alpha imbues him with strength and calms the dancing butterflies in his gullet. One more contraction comes on the way to the birthing center, but as soon as he is admitted another grips him. It is like their pup knows it is time to be born.
Kelsey, his midwife, who has been a rock of sense during Dean's pre-natal appointments, is a calming professional presence. The blonde petite omega, with her long bobbed hair, dark framed stylish glasses, and inch wide black lace collar is softly spoken but her experienced tiny hands hold incredible strength. She authoritatively takes control of her realm, allowing the mates to focus on each other and the birth, leaving all other worries and concerns to her.
Bear Lake General's policy of allowing Alpha-mates in the delivery room, unless and until they prove they can't handle seeing their mate in pain, makes Dean want to nominate the hospital for the medical world's equivalent of the Oscars. Benny fights growly instincts numerous times over the next few hours as Dean is poked, is prodded and copes with contractions of increasing length and frequency. Kelsey understands Benny's point of view too, telling them anecdotes of her alpha mate going from woozy and stunned at their first pup's birth to virtual birth manager by their third.
To his own surprise Dean remains composed and not overly anxious during the hours in the delivery room. He enters that almost meditative calm mindset of a hunt, focused on the end result rather than the immediate pain and stress. Each wave of building lengthening contraction brings him closer to his goal. Midnight finds Dean stroking his overcome alpha's arm offering solace and hopeful comfort. His scent remains sweet, if strained, while Benny's swings between nervous, excited, and overwhelming affection.
The final phase is like a whirlwind of medical personnel and cresting one tidal wave of pain to be buffeted by the next. Having Benny's warm hand to hold offers an anchor and a pillar of support. He needs his alpha beside him, cannot imagine doing this without him, and spares a thought for omegas who by circumstance must battle through giving birth without their mates. Dean parses Benny's cooed words of praise, repeatedly telling that he is doing so good and how proud he is of him.
As his whole being seems to be one fiery ball of bearing down, Dean's potty mouth breaks through his reserve. However not his gritted teeth and ground out "Son of bitches" nor his shouted "Motherfucking, get this pup out of me", imprint themselves in Dean's long term memory. All consuming burning pain and effort is transmuted by alchemy into elation and amazement, as he hears his pup make his first tentative cry. Dean will remember his son being laid on his chest, tickling his white flecked newborn cheek with his finger, Benny's large hand coming to cradle their boy's head, and the unbelievable love that blooms fierce and eternal in his chest for his tiny pup.
"He scents of newness and wonder." Benny says sappily, but Dean forgives him because he agrees.
"He was late to the party," Kelsey teases, referring to Dean's due date. She lifts the baby carefully to take him to be cleaned up and for his newborn tests. "But you are very welcome to the world, Pup Lafitte."
Dean immediately feels the loss of skin to skin contact. He bites down on his chapped lips, enduring their temporary separation. Benny's kisses distract him, as do the acts made to tidy Dean up by Kelsey's colleague. He has a minor tear to his perineum but doesn't require stitches. Although overdue, his son was accommodatingly on the small side, and Dean feels a certain pride at being told he is very flexible.
When they bring his boy back, Dean cradles his wonderful swaddled pup in his arms. He can't get enough of scenting him, gazing at him, and holding him close. Benny climbs onto the edge of the mattress to share in their awe. He shuffles under the edge of the primrose yellow hospital blanket. Dean grins privately that coming onto the bed was the only way his poor alpha was going to get so close. He is bonding with his pup, and there is nothing like it. No words can explain. He opens his mouth to attempt to tell Benny how awesome and out of this world it is. Benny's blue peepers are wet and full of the same emotions galloping through Dean's heart. He grasps Benny's fingers, under their son's body, and squeezes tight.
"Goddamn, I love you, Alpha." Dean imparts hoarsely.
"Me too, love you both, so much," Benny gulps. "Our son."
"Our own pup." Dean watches his tiny perfect lips part, his little hands flex, and his deep blue eyes flicker open.
"Alexander Samuel Lafitte?" Benny repeats their preferred name as a query, checking if Dean still is on board now that they have met their son.
"Alex," Dean nods, sinking his forehead further to lightly press against his little boy's brow. He inhales sweet milky goodness, picking up the early tendrils of Alex's settling unique profile. Pups scent close to their mothers' profile at birth, but Dean isolates soft warmed syrupy ginger, reflecting Benny's cinnamon and ginger baked taffy spices.
"I'm breathing your balsam sugar in his skin." Benny murmurs.
Dean hums, "I was gonna tell you he has your spicy candy."
"Your perfect nose and gorgeous big eyes." Benny croons.
Dean doesn't correct his alpha about all newborn pups having big eyes, or say how he hopes Alex's eyes will be Benny's clear summer lake blue. "Our Alex has your strong jaw and calm demeanor."
Benny chuckles, bopping their shoulders together. "He is not yet an hour old, Mon Cher, he may have your feisty personality."
"You mean he is going to be terror?" Dean shakes his head, "Nu-huh, Alpha, Alex is a good pup. Aren't you Alexander Samuel? You are going to be charm to feed, sleep through the night, not throw your dirty diapers on the floor like your Uncle Sammy…"
"I hope your predictions come true, Sugar," Benny snorts fond laughter.
"And if they don't, we will love you just the same, Pup," Dean promises his bundle of wondrous joy.
"A clean bill of health," Kelsey pronounces when she interrupts their family bonding time. "Five pounds twelve ounces, 19 inches, and a little alpha pup."
"Alpha?" Dean gapes. It does not matter if Alex is alpha, beta, or omega, but modern medicine being able to tell weeks before a pup's gender scent pattern settles is a marvel.
Benny puffs his chest out, as if he did all the work. Dean rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny his mate this moment of pride. There is certain comfort in parenting an alpha pup. He has done it once, learned from his childish mistakes and his successes with Sammy. Overall Dean reckons he did a pretty good job, with minimal input from John. He raised Sam to be a wonderful young alpha.
"You're not disappointed?" Benny asks discreetly, evoking both mates to recall late night blanket cocoon time conversations of how they would raise an omega pup to be a proud strong person.
"How could I be?" Dean blinks up at his dear alpha. "He is perfect and I wouldn't change a thing."
"We might have an omega the next time." Benny muses aloud.
"Hold your freaking horses right there, Cowboy." Dean huffs disbelievingly, "When I do have my next heat, it's gonna involve toys, blow jobs, and alpha knotting condoms, you capisce?"
"Aye, Aye," Benny playfully salutes. "Lieutenant Prophylactic will report for duty, Sir. Will be ready, Sir."
Dean huffs fondly, "Doofus."
"Your doofus."
"All mine." Dean grins.
"Uh-huh, Sugar. Don't you forget it." Benny caresses Dean's cheek lightly.
"My family," Dean puffs, rocking sleepy Alex ever so.
Once his newborn has taken his first feed and been placed in the cradle beside Dean's bed, welcome rest beckons to the new parents too. However Dean resists the pull of The Sandman and the warmth of his hospital room. He asks for his cell phone and spreads his good news across the country. While Benny shares his glee with his work mates, Andrea, and Mac back on Gauntlet. Dean wakes Bobby eliciting whoops of undisguised joy. He gets Pastor Jim's heartfelt blessing and Sam's voicemail. It's a punch to the guts for the few moments before Sam returns his call.
"Past your bedtime?" Dean teases following his sleep addled little brother's grouchy hello.
"Hey, Dean , it's…" Sam fumbles, "almost 2AM here, Dude."
"Well, I figure if Alpha Alex Sammy Lafitte spent his first hour awake, then his uncle can…"
Dean's words are lost as Sam squawks, "Uncle?"
"That is what was going to happen when I had my pup," Dean cannot help continuing to josh his brother. He does have mercy, when he hears floundering half-words on the other end of the line, "He's freaking gorgeous, Sammy. All fingers and toes present."
"And you, Dean? Are you OK?" Sam asks with hushed urgency. It is a bit late to commence whispers in the night. The dorm has probably been woken already by Sam's screeches.
"Without making you protest 'TMI', I'm sore, but good. So good, I'm better than peachy, better than golden." Dean is momentarily distracted as Benny tells him that Mac gave him hell for waking him but will pass on their news to Geoff and Jonah.
"I'm so freaking happy for you." Sam gulps and sniffles.
Dean can conjure with great affection Sammy's ugly alpha crying face.
"Wait until you meet him," Dean enthuses, "Benny and I found the cutest Santa's Elf sleeper in JCPenny's."
"He's gonna be the most doted and cherished pup in Idaho." Sam comments.
"Damn right." Dean agrees with a tagged on yawn. Benny holds his hand out for Dean's cell phone. It is time to catch forty winks before Alex wakes. "Sammy, I gotta go. I'll call you later, and we'll see you soon."
"Sure will," Sam promises. "Can't wait for the holidays."
"Me too." The phone slips from Dean's fingers. Benny plumps his pillows and ensures his mate is resting comfortably. As Dean falls into well deserved sleep, he sees flames flickering, but this is no nightmare flashback. Pine scents the air. Candy canes and stockings frame their hearth as a Christmas fire is drawn high and cheerful. In this premonition, Dean curls on their sheepskin rug, with Alex, in his red elf sleepsuit, tucked against him. Benny kneels beside them distracting Alex with a colorful plushy toy, while Sam is spread out relaxing on their sturdy deep sofa watching the family's celebration of their first Christmas.
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Just the epilogue to come…
I am going to miss this fic. Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and reviewed Run The Gauntlet. Every notification has brought me joy and encouraged me to continue to write this story. You all rock!