The first walk-through had been toughest, for the all of them. The organization had a hell of a website thanks to Charlie, and a solid legal backing thanks to Sam, but it had no real reputation yet, nothing to set them apart as any kind of authority. They got push-back from the second they showed up with the police for an inspection. Hell, they only had the police because Sam pulled a few strings with a cop friend he'd made while searching for Dean.
Dean wasn't an authority. He wasn't a doctor. He wasn't a cop with a court order, or the giant Alpha lawyer no one says no to. He's PR, god help him, so he was stuck with Charlie waiting with the administrator of the facility sneering at the pair of them; the fidgeting female Alpha and the snarky male Omega out in the world, society's rejects.
It didn't escape anyone's notice that it was the two Alphas that everyone deferred to, and it put Dean's teeth on edge almost as much as knowing that when anyone there looked at him they were thinking he was a wasted investment who needed to be on the other side of the wall, strapped down and ass-up with the rest of the breeders.
Sam was back out front much too quickly, disgust painted across his features but his pupils dilated, skin flushed, and when the administrator knowingly told him that if he was ever in the market for fertilization services he should take a card, Sam looked like he wanted to throw up. Sam is Alpha, and he's appalled that he couldn't stop a physical reaction to a room full of in-heat Omegas for rent despite Jess at home and a baby on the way and his abhorrence of the whole system.
It wasn't his fault. That's how they're built. Sam's a decent guy, and further proof that biology doesn't override morality, and he shouldn't have held it against himself that he had to duck out of the room. Dean had been pretty sure any so-called inspections before them had just been an excuse to sample the wares.
And maybe that had worked for them before, maybe that was why they were comfortable letting a couple of Alphas through the doors, but they didn't count on Dean's boyfriend. It took both the Beta officer reiterating that they didn't have authority for search and seizure and threatening to cuff him if he ruined their legal grounds, to get Castiel to stop trying to unstrap the fourteen year old boy who'd stared at him with dull eyes as drugs dripped into his bloodstream. He'd stayed in there among the Omegas as the personification of righteous fury until Child Protective Services showed up, and then longer while Sam got on the phone and Charlie on the computer to file an injunction, all while the administrator tried to have them thrown off his property because their presence was going to keep him from entertaining any clients and turning a profit.
They cleared out that facility while Dean stood in front of it answering questions of the local reporter, Castiel climbing into the back of an ambulance with two of the Omegas protectively because of course the paramedics were Alpha.
The first inspection was the worst, because they had to learn their limitations. Sam learning he had to keep his distance, and Castiel learning he can't. Cas is an Omega-mated Alpha, and while he may not want any of them, tied as he is into his connection with Dean, he can feel them better without dopamine and sex pheromones to confuse it: fear, distress, pain, need, heat pinging off his hypothalamus, as undeniable as Sam's own responses, and the result had been devastating.
They got married, the fight moved forward, and they're supposed to be bolstering each other through it all. That was the deal: they're supposed to be partners.
So today when Dean woke up sick to his stomach and still exhausted despite a full night's sleep, just to find an empty bed, a quick note from Castiel tucked under a bottle of water and two prenatal vitamins and a voicemail from Jody saying she was stealing his husband for a nighttime raid out in the county, he knew what to expect even if he's pissed off at himself for sleeping through the call, and pissed at Cas that he's finding out this way.
Some kind of late-night raid? That's not an inspection, and they should have frikkin' woken him up. Cas is a doctor, not a cop. He gives consults, he doesn't go storming the castle or whatever, and there's a reason for that.
Hannah sees Dean coming from the nurses' station and breaks off her conversation with the other nurses to approach him. In the last month since she started working rotations with Cas, Dean's come to the conclusion that if he weren't in the picture Hannah thinks she might have had a chance with Castiel. Hell, maybe she thinks she can slip right in there, be the Beta wife in their house and make Cas more socially acceptable, keeping Dean around as a surrogate; Cas's pet Omega the way Lilith is for Lucifer. It puts his teeth on edge, but she's not cruel, or overt, and Cas is not only uninterested he's apparently completely oblivious. Dean also has to admit he may be a little hormonal and possessive because Cas comes home from work smelling like other Omegas in heat regularly now, and unreasonably pissed off and looking for offense because the circuit court argued property laws about frikkin' Omegas to dismiss their case two weeks ago.
Property can't be emancipated, and doesn't have inherent rights outside of those granted to the property owners. Sam promises it's not as bad of a setback as it seems and that they need to be able to appeal higher, but a court just legally declared him a thing … first owned by John, then Alastair, then Sam, then Cas (now and forever, Cas, because as his mate Cas owns his body and his kids and it's not Cas's fault but he can't handle that).
"He's still doing intake. The sheriff is down there, and no one else has been allowed in yet, do you want to…" To wait here? Hell no. Hannah takes a look at Dean's expression, sighs and nods to herself before swiping her hospital badge to open the doors, and then she keeps going sounding perfectly reasonable, but with that tone of voice that Dean hates. "Okay. That might work. I think he needs you to calm him down."
Like Dean's a sedative, just useful for how he grounds his Alpha. Like every Alpha household should have an Omega around to settle the Alpha down, to let them burn off energy with every use. Dean hates this mentality because it's prevalent. Because even people horrified by what they're finding on the Farms and Crèches, like Hannah, still consciously or unconsciously cling to this idea to some extent that his worth is based upon what he can offer Cas. Because even people who are otherwise good people can't see their way around a system they were raised in.
The county hospital's good about Castiel's involvement in the inspections; someone high enough up the food chain decided that it's a notch in the hospital's belt, the same as being called upon for forensics or asked to present at symposiums. They're pushing Cas towards courses that play on the fact that he can treat Omegas, and he's buried in textbooks at home and loaned out to other hospitals and to law enforcement agencies at work. If he keeps racking up the time they're going to start pushing him out the door to be an 'expert witness' in trials just to illustrate that Sioux Falls, South Dakota is at the leading edge of something, regardless of how much Cas still hates being on the stand. It's exhausting and nerve-wracking for Cas, but he's always thrown himself wholly into his work and it's not in him to complain about it when it's all part of Dean's fight.
Cas feels useful, like he's balancing some karmic scale in his head that Dean doesn't understand, and it's satisfying to him no matter how hard it is at the time.
This is evidently one of the hard times.
Castiel didn't bother trying to tame his usual morning bed-hair before going out, that much is clear even from the end of the hall. He's in yesterday's slacks and one of Dean's faded flannel shirts, obviously what he could grab from the laundry room without waking Dean, and the evidence of that should feed into Dean's annoyance but it has the opposite effect. One hand tangled in his hair, other scratching words across a chart on a table dragged to sit outside of a hospital room, Cas is so agitated and upset that it shows enough that anyone looking at him could pick it up. Hell, this must be bad.
When Sheriff Mills steps out of the elevator, asking him with a look to intervene, it's nothing like Hannah doing it. Jody is family in a roundabout sort of way, and she was instrumental in getting Cas a job here, not just responsible for dragging him out in the middle of the night. She looks haggard herself and is wearing the unlikely combination of a hospital gown, khaki uniform pants and a sling. Patching her up was probably Castiel's handiwork, but god help them if they think she'll stay in a hospital room. The fact that she's passing Dean a coffee that she'd clearly gone to pick up Cas from the cafeteria below is sign enough that her priorities are on this floor even if she has to bribe her way in, and she lowers her voice in warning. "Teenaged girl. I'm not a shrink, but I think Stockholm Syndrome. She was taken by an alpha female and a few alpha males she was raising as her own. Last couple of years at least they've used the girl as the family income, sent her out as bait town to town… told her it was how she could keep her 'family' alive. She fought us as hard as they did during the raid. Cas was in with the paramedics soon as they stopped shooting …"
"That's terrible." Hannah has no idea, and Dean doesn't even know which part of the story she found terrible. She doesn't get it. Hell, even Jody's missing something, though with her familiarity with Bobby and Dean she has a better idea. Dean understands, though. He feels ill and it has nothing to do with morning sickness, for once. There was no farm, no crèche, just being sold in crappy bars while someone dug deep into their self identity and screwed up their heads. He lived this. And then there's Cas…
"I'm still pissed at you." Dean points a finger at Jody, and she shrugs slightly, accepting that without giving him excuses. They both know Cas was the best qualified person in Sioux Falls to help out, but they can argue that once Jody's back to full speed, and Cas is settled. He doesn't feel guilty for ditching Jody with Hannah as he makes his way down the hall, but he slows down to let Cas finish first as he addresses a pair of doctors and an RN in clipped tones.
"… don't care about hospital policy. Hospital policy has failed her before. If the board or chief of medicine has an issue with it, they can take it up with me later this morning when they arrive. Until then only the people on this list may go in this room without myself or the Sheriff next to them, and they're going to sign in when they do enter the room, is that clear?"
Cas doesn't have the authority or the tenure yet to be throwing around edicts in the hospital, and any person in this hall could call that bluff… except that it isn't a bluff. Dean wouldn't put it past Cas to camp in the hallway, day off or not, with the way he sounds. Dean knows the glare they're facing and it doesn't surprise him when no one argues and everyone moves on, leaving Cas by himself. When Dean moves again, Cas hears the movement and rounds on him in the hall, blue eyes hard until they're face to face.
Cas's frigid demeanor doesn't melt so much as it crumbles, blown away with a violent gust of a sigh as his shoulders drop and his hands unclench. Suddenly Dean has an armful of Cas and a cup of coffee he's trying to keep from spilling as he hugs him back. Dean palms the back of Cas's neck, thumb stroking the nape of his neck as inconspicuously as he can because he paid attention in class, so to speak, well enough to know Cas probably needs the contact right now. Cas spends a lot of time curled up on the couch with him reading passages aloud for him when they're insightful or (more often) when they're amusingly incorrect, but this part they got right. Touch is reassuring, anchoring, and a reestablishment of what they have between them. "Hey, c'mon. It's okay…"
It's a few moments before Dean feels someone unobtrusively taking the coffee away from him, and Jody tries not to draw attention as she sets it on the table beside the door for him, tilting her head indicating that she'll take watch for a bit. Dean waits until the sheriff signs herself into the room before coiling his other arm around Cas, too, because god help them all if someone didn't pay attention to what he'd said. "The Sheriff's got her for a bit, c'mere…"
Dean catches sight of Hannah staring at them in undisguised surprise as he gets Cas to follow him down the hall into his office. He shuts the door on her and tugs the blinds closed, because screw her their marriage is not a spectator sport, and because he's rescuing Castiel right now, whether they realize it or not. Cas settles heavily into the chair at his desk, elbows across his knees and head bowed, and there's no bluster left to him, no fight.
None of them really gets what they'd asked Cas to do—they took someone who's entire moral code and sense of self-worth broke as a noncombatant in a war zone and then made him sit on his hands and wait through gunshots and a frikkin nighttime raid, unarmed and unsure of what was happening or what the outcome would be. And then they put the care of a sexually abused Omega child in the hands of a man who empathizes instinctively with her, and identifies her with the people he's closest to.
Of course they had no idea what that would do to Cas. He doesn't talk about himself unless someone makes him. Thankfully, Dean and Cas have been pushing past each other's comfort zones since the day they met. "Talk to me, man."
Cas rests his head on his hands, thumbs slowly rubbing his temples and the headache there, and Dean gives him a minute to collect himself, leaving the overhead light off to not aggravate Cas's headache. He perches on the edge of the desk to give Cas space and then finds all that space gone. Cas's chair rolls in, arms coiling around Dean's waist and his head tipping in, a hug that places his cheek against the gentle swell of Dean's stomach, otherwise hidden under the shirt. After a moment Dean digs his fingers into Cas's hair comfortingly, knee pressed to Cas's shoulder, keeping him there. Cas needs the assurance that his whole family is okay, and it's a little awkward that the belly-groping has already become a thing outside of the bedroom, but Dean'll deal with it.
"She was taken when she was six, Dean. She'd been hospitalized for ash illness and was typed for designation. A nurse there, Celia, abducted her and raised her to be…" Castiel grimaces, and Dean shushes him. He gets the point between Cas's comments and Jody's, and it's horrifying. "I can't… her medical records, I can't tell you…" Dean knows that, too, is aware that Cas keeps to patient privacy as much as he's able, but he needs to get this out. "But she has repeated bite scarring, claiming scars, on her throat, and she doesn't even know her own name any more, Dean. She gave us three false names before Jody matched her to a missing person's report for a little girl named Annie Jones filed almost a decade ago . . ."
"What happened tonight?" With you goes unspoken. Dean needs to know Cas is okay.
Cas draws a deep breath, stiffening and pulling away as he does, and Dean lets him without trying to draw him back. Cas needs his game face on if he's going to get through this, and Dean knows and respects that routine well enough from personal experience not to push. "They opened fire. Celia and one of her 'sons' died on the scene, and another is in critical condition…" Raising his head Castiel meets Dean's eyes, and even if his voice is steady Dean can see the self-recrimination in his eyes. "I was glad they were dead, and hoped the other wouldn't live through the night."
Anyone who didn't know Cas's story would either think that was pretty cold, or would misunderstand his meaning. But Dean knows that when Cas walked into that house he wasn't just seeing what was there, he was stepping over the bodies of two nineteen or twenty year old enemy combatants to rescue his tortured soldiers. He may not have been the one to kill them this time, but it's the same moral dilemma that helped push him out of the church, and he doesn't quite know how to feel about himself knowing the level of violence he can condone when he feels it's just.
"Doctor Winchester?" A sharp knock and the door opening immediately interrupts any response from Dean. Hannah pokes her head in before clearing her throat, flustered. Dean glances over his shoulder at her and then takes a second to consider what this looks like from her point of view as the light from the hall spills over them, Cas's chair pushed close, body and shoulders between Dean's legs, hair mussed, only the lamp on for light. "Oh, excuse me, I just…"
"What is it, Hannah." Castiel steps back from Dean and rises, and Dean can practically feel Hannah swell with hope at how Cas moves away from Dean like he's done using Dean as some kind of security blanket, and how he addresses her by name. Unseen, Dean rolls his eyes as she hands him a folded pair of scrubs.
"Sheriff Mills wanted me to tell you that the sedatives seem to be wearing off."
Castiel nods, acknowledging her words, and he turns as Dean pushes himself to his feet, tucking the clothes under his arm for the moment. "I'm sorry you woke up alone. Will you be okay here for a few hours? Jody picked me up, but I can take the bus and meet you at home…" Dean waves that option off, and Cas's frown deepens. "Are you still feeling ill? Hannah, could you please get Dean some crackers and yogurt while he waits?"
"I keep telling you the texture's nasty, man, it doesn't matter what flavors…" Dean mutters low enough to keep it between them, but Cas doesn't let him finish the familiar griping, stepping into Dean's space again and cupping his face gently to kiss him to silence, slow and tender, and with Hannah standing right there in the doorway.
"Thank you." For listening. For showing up. For not biting his head off though he could have, for not thinking he's a monster because of a few dark thoughts, and for holding him together when he needed it. Thumb catching on Dean's lower lip to shut him up before he can protest the chick flick moment with an audience, Cas looks at the door without stepping back. "Crackers, yogurt, and water please, Hannah."
Hannah disappears, leaving the door open after her as her footsteps ring out in the hall, a little too hard and too fast, and once Castiel closes the office door behind her he turns back to see Dean watching him with narrowed eyes. Castiel has never been as subtle as he thinks he is. "You're fucking with her, aren't you? Rubbing it in?"
"No. Well …" Cas's answer falters as he strips off his clothes quickly and efficiently, tugging on the scrubs instead, leaving Dean holding a pile of dirty clothes that smell like mated Omega and home and absorbing the visual reminder that he married Doctor Sexy after all. Cas's head pops through the powder blue shirt, and he can't quite help the sheepish look he shoots Dean, no matter how screwed up his day has been already. "Your jealousy is as obvious as it is entirely unwarranted, and from there I figured out you must feel she was interested in me. I thought reminding both of you of my priorities wouldn't be remiss."
"Which is basically your roundabout way of saying you're making her run errands for me because I'm a jealous asshole." He is, though. He's a jealous asshole and he knows it, and it's not like he wasn't kissing back knowing exactly what Cas was up to.
"No, I'd get you breakfast myself if I didn't need to go. I may be here all day." Cas frowns and captures Dean again, stepping up behind him and pulling him in for another quick hug that wraps Cas's arms around his middle, hands smoothing over his stomach gently, face tucked into the bend of Dean's neck muffling his voice. "Eat your crackers and yogurt, it'll settle your stomach and is good for you. It's an important source of calcium, protein and vitamins for the babies and probiotics for you…"
Dean peels his hands away and opens the door again for Cas, pushing him out towards the hall. Jesus, it's bad enough how many Alphas seem to just know he's knocked up, he doesn't need to announce that to every Beta and Omega around just because Cas can't keep his hands to himself and is worried about frikkin yogurt.
(He's in love with a complete nerd. He's come to accept that).
"I'll eat the damn yogurt, but you owe me pie on our way home."
Castiel nods, as if that was a given because… well, it probably is, and Cas still can't cook for crap, but he's already happy to run out and get Dean food when he craves it. Dean may end up abusing that later in pregnancy.
"I'm fine. Go back to work, Doctor Winchester. I don't care what the cops or paramedics did, or how many punches she threw, don't let her wake up strapped to a table or you're gonna lose any trust. Tell me if you get called in front of your bosses and need to change into something that's actually been washed this week, or if you could use another Omega in there. I'll call Sam so he knows we've got another one who might need him, and Charlie so she can start figuring out if she's got anyone to go back to. When you get the chance, kick Jody out to tell me what I can 'officially' know and if the girl needs a lawyer…?"
It snaps Cas back to himself better than anything else does; he knows all of this, or could figure out what Dean would need and the girl, too, but giving him orders gets him to solid ground to start from. Cas's pace quickens once he's out of the office, and Dean knows from that he was right about the straps, and that Cas is listening to him and processing again now. They're both back to work. What happened last night is probably going to haunt both of them in their ways, but they can either agonize over it or try to change things.
Flicking the overhead light on, Dean steals Cas's office chair and pulls his phone out of his pocket, undoing the top button of his jeans where it digs in uncomfortably because he's still too stubborn to shop larger sizes yet with him still in the first trimester, and he'll wear sweats or boxers around the house anyway and grab the bigger coveralls at work. When his elbow bumps the mouse, he's left looking at the glowing image of his own face, head thrown back in laughter and a frosting-smeared hand on Cas's shoulder, watched through narrowed calculating eyes by a cake-splattered Castiel who apparently knew nothing about that wedding tradition, with how stuffy the family ones had been, but was already plotting his own revenge.
Cas has a slideshow of their wedding pictures as his screen saver.
"Sap." Dean chuffs fondly, but the evidence of their life together is everywhere on Cas's desk, now that Dean's settled where Cas would sit. The day they met, Dean unrepentantly rifled through the pictures and mementos in Cas's apartment trying to get a feel for him, and somehow this feels like that all over again, a view of what Castiel keeps closest to him.
The cracked silver picture frames from Cas's old apartment have been replaced, and the images multiplied. Dean's family is there just as much as Cas's, newer images than the old keepsakes he'd given himself when he cut ties. Some are professional shots of them all from the wedding and some seem to have been printed out from Cas's phone without Dean ever knowing. A candid Dean's never seen in print before catches his eye: in it, he's smirking faintly, perched in his battered leather jacket on the hood of the Impala in the desert, clearly sometime during their honeymoon road trip. Dean pushes down the piece of paper folded and tucked into the corner of the frame just to confirm to himself that yes, Cas has a picture of Dean flipping him off on his desk. And as he suspected, the piece of paper tucked there is the first sonogram, two indistinct blobs that Dean still figures look more like coffee beans than infants, darker than the gray around them. Their twins don't even have names, yet… hell they're still working on growing arms and legs… but Cas has them included in the family pictures already.
Like the old picture of Jimmy holding an infant Claire, like the snapshot of Dean's cheerful defiance, this is part of Cas's reminder of why he pushes through the bad days. So nobody else dies like Jimmy did, because someone else tried to force his body to meet their ideal. So nobody else ends up as screwed up as Dean, or the girl down the hall, because they were abducted and sold at someone else's whim. So that their kids and their niece and their nephew get a better world than they did.
Letting the sonogram fall back into place, Dean grabs a notepad from Cas's desk, scrapes his fingernails across his scalp to ruffle his hair, and then scratches a name across the top of the paper before picking up his phone again. He was a kid when he was first shown how fucked up the world is, and it left him a pretty screwed up adult. He can't give this girl back her childhood, but maybe he can make sure she sees that being broken doesn't mean being useless, or hopeless.
Time to see what they can do for Annie Jones.