Requests and Challenges - What Part of Forever: Part Three
Master Post
Title: What Part of Forever
Author/Artist: girlgotagun
Pairing(s): Dean/Sam
Full List of Kinks: a/b/o, knotting, public claiming, marking, first time, violence/torture, hurt/comfort, exhibitionism, crying/tears, WAFF (bros I’m not sure if that’s even a kink tbh but it’s gonna come on hard so yeah)
WARNING: brief non-con/sexual abuse for the purpose of altering pack status early in the story. elements of dub-con related to a character reaction to public claiming, not the actual action of sex itself, later in the story. please be mindful of triggers, because this one may be a fucking landmine.
Written for this prompt, submitted to me by ereynolds74.
Back to Part Two
~~~
In retrospect, Dean should have known better than to take Sam with him to the pool hall that night when he went to hustle a few poor suckers to turn a quick buck. But the omega was going stir-crazy at the house, unable to leave without a chaperone but unwilling to ask the others to take him along. He couldn’t ask Garth or Cas, because he had punched them both and though he felt bad-well, mostly-he hadn’t apologized. They’d likely forgive him; after all, Garth was a giant goofball and Cas, though he seemed alarmingly serious and aloof, was pretty much a giant baby in a trench coat. But the remnants of Sam’s Alpha pride wouldn’t let him apologize, so he couldn’t ask either of them to tag along.
Asking John was out of the question as well, because doing so would be tantamount to admitting that he had been right in forbidding Sam from going out alone. So Sam didn’t admit defeat, but didn’t ask to go with him, either.
Then there was Bobby. Honestly, Sam probably would have asked Bobby, but the hunter was all but retired and stayed home most of the time as a sort of mission control, fielding calls and dispensing information for a wide network of hunters across the country. So there was nothing to ask when it came to Bobby, really.
That just left Dean. He felt bad for his little brother, trapped in the house all day, and so he invited Sam to come along whenever he left. Well, not on hunts; Dean was worried that he wouldn’t be able to protect Sam in the midst of it all. And no matter how many times Ellen’s scent-masking gel had saved his ass, he didn’t trust anything enough to bet Sam’s life on it. But everywhere else he went, yeah, Sam went along.
So Dean hadn’t thought twice about letting him come when he went to hustle pool. It was always better to have a second person along, anyway. It didn’t look as suspicious-because how many terrible pool players went out on a Friday night, on their own, and chose a pool hall?-and it was just always a good idea to have backup in case the hustle went sideways.
It had started out smoothly enough, with him and Sam playing a game-badly-like two friends just goofing off, no real idea what they were doing. After, Dean had a pretty easy time lining up a game, the bet finally settling on $200. The other guy racked the balls as Sam went to the bar to grab them a couple of beers.
It was after Dean broke, scattering the balls but sinking none, that he glanced toward the bar. He found Sam, leaning against it as he waited to order, and then his eyes landed on the Alpha next to his brother. He was leaning over slightly to check his neck for the-nonexistent-mating mark that would mark Sam as off-limits.
Dean froze as the Alpha leaned forward and spoke into Sam’s ear, smirking as his hand came to rest on the small of Sam’s back. Dean dropped the cue stick and was racing to the bar as Sam’s cheeks flushed and his eyes lit up with fury. He was almost there-almost-and reaching out to grab the Alpha, yank him back, when Sam grabbed the arm around his waist and brought it up, twisting it sharply with a feral snarly, the bone snapping audibly.
There was a beat of silence and then, as the Alpha let out a howl of enraged pain, the bar broke out in complete pandemonium. Alphas and betas jumped to their feet, while no less than six omegas hit the ground at the sudden swell of aggression hitting the air, but Dean realized with a lurch of his stomach that Sam wasn’t one of them. He was squaring off against two of the Alpha’s friends.
Not good not good not good. Dean’s baser instincts were screaming at him, drowning out all rational thought.
He shouted over the noise without thinking. “Get on the goddamned floor before I put you on the fucking floor!”
Sam dropped immediately, pressing himself as flat as humanly possible and for a moment Dean’s rational mind panicked, terrified that the Alphas would take advantage of the omega’s vulnerable position.
But baser instinct and pack law ran deep; never spoken, never taught, but always known and strictly followed. So although the Alphas were still furious, their scents thick and suffocating, they didn’t make a move against Sam. To harm a claimed omega was move against the omega’s pack, and while Sam wasn’t mated, he was still claimed by a pack, with an Alpha present to represent it.
Dean approached slowly, trying to avoid being perceived as a threat. The Alphas couldn’t harm Sam, but that rule didn’t extend to Dean as an Alpha.
He saw Sam start to move, to pick himself up, and he let out a low growl. “Stay on the goddamned floor until I tell you to get up.”
Sam let out a choked, panicked gasp, and Dean tried not to think about the last time Sam had been pinned, unable to move. Tried not to think about what it must be doing to him now. What Dean was doing to him now. He reminded himself that Sam was safe on the floor, whether he liked it or not, and that if he stood, if he showed any lack of submission, he’d be in danger.
Because Sam was an unmated omega. And Dean’s authority as a pack Alpha only extended insofar as that remained true. If Sam was mated, claimed, that was it. Game over.
Because it was pack law not to interfere in a claiming. If Dean didn’t stop it before it started, he wouldn’t be able to at all. He doubted if Sam, instinctively removed from Alphas, really grasped just how serious the situation was.
“Listen,” he began carefully, keeping any harsh edges out of his words, “don’t hurt him, please. He was recently turned, hasn’t adjusted yet. He panicked.” He eyed them for a moment, gauging their reactions. There were few Alphas who didn’t feel a deep stab of pity for a fellow Alpha who had been turned omega. Sure enough, their expressions began to soften a little. Dean took a shaky breath and continued. “I apologize, on behalf of my pack, and I assure you he will be dealt with. We’re up in Sioux Falls; a place called Singer’s Auto. Forward us the hospital bill and we’ll take care of it.”
There was a pause and Dean held his breath. Finally, the Alpha with the broken arm nodded, and he and his friend pushed past Dean to leave. Dean tried not to let his posture betray his relief.
He looked down at Sam and the relief became tinged with rage. Rage that Sam had put himself in such danger, had almost gotten himself killed or claimed, had almost been lost to Dean forever.
His hard voice was no longer for effect. “Get the fuck up and head for the goddamned door, Sammy.” He was shaking, that rage building. He needed to get the omega out of his sight, get himself under control before he was alone with him. “Wait for me in the car. Lock the doors.”
Sam scrambled to his feet and did as he was told, shame and humiliation burning in his cheeks, head low as he went.
“Why haven’t you claimed him yet?”
The question took Dean by surprise and he just stared blankly at the one Alpha who remained from the other group for a moment before he shrugged. “Not mine to claim.
The Alpha furrowed his brow. “Then why does he listen to you?”
“I guess ‘cause I’m an Alpha.”
“Yeah, but I mean, why does he only listen to you? Every other omega in this place hit the ground on instinct-he only did when you ordered him to.” The Alpha looked slightly amazed that Dean didn’t seem to know why that was a big deal. “That’s some fated mate shit if I’ve ever seen it.”
He clapped Dean on the shoulder before heading off after the others, leaving Dean to absorb what he had said.
~~~
The ride back home was quiet. Sam was worried that speaking would make Dean angrier, but the truth was that Dean wasn’t even angry anymore. He was replaying the other Alpha’s words, over and over, trying to come to some sort of understanding of them.
When they got back home, Bobby was the only one downstairs at the late hour. Dean almost went to bed without pausing, drained from the night’s events, but then he thought of something. Bobby was like an encyclopedia of random mythical fact, and if anything ever sounded mythical, it was the term “fated mate”.
To his surprise, when he asked Bobby what he knew about them, the Alpha just scoffed in an amused way before turning to look at him.
“Know I’ve never laid eyes on a more obvious pair of ‘em than you two idjits.”
A sound behind Dean made him turn around, his eyes landing on Sam as the omega stood in the doorway, eyes wide and panicked.
“Sam…”
But before Dean could get out another word, the omega turned tail and ran.
Continue to Part Four