#alpha!cas

No AI was used in the making of this piece. Program: Sketchbook Pro ✏️

My new years resolution this year is to practice more anatomy. I'm trying to take the training wheels off. This pose was so specific I could not find a reference so all mistakes are my own.

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Sam sleeps through twenty-six solid hours. Sluggish wake-up, dazed and heavy and, right, Alpha gave him meds so he could… Alpha. Right. Sam has an owner, now.

Sam remains half-curled-up on his mattress. No, not his; Alpha’s, Alpha’s room… Sam swallows. He’s alone. The door is ajar. Golden afternoon light filters through the curtains. Sam’s collar is gone. The cuffs on his wrists and ankles persist. Sam’s eyes are wide open. He knows he won’t move.

Alpha comes to check on him eventually. The relief that Sam woke up is palpable even through the minimal emotions on Alpha’s face. Their scent, their body language… Sam swallows. He doesn’t want to get up. Alpha brought him food, though. Sam will have to at least sit up.

“No. On the floor.”

Sam’s head droops for a second before he complies. Carpet, here. Mostly tiles around the house, though, and Sam decides not to think and straightens his still-sore back and puts his hands in his lap, waits. Being handed the bowl is a surprise. Sam reluctantly peers up at Alpha to get consent before he reaches inside.

“I apologize. You still must be tired.”

Sam doesn’t agree nor object. Cubed fruit, cheese; nuts. Sam’s stomach gurgles happily. Sam paces himself. It’s a big bowl. He won’t go hungry if he’s allowed the whole thing.

Alpha stands up from where they sat on the edge of the bed and gestures for Sam to stay. “I will be right back,” they say. “Have as much as you want. I am getting you a glass of water.”

Sam nods, swallows. Stuffs the next piece into his mouth. He goes from singular pieces to handfuls as soon as Alpha exits the room.

The water tastes heavenly. Sam holds the glass with both hands as he drinks. Alpha watches. Sam ducks his head as he hands back the empty glass and goes straight back to his bowl. The long months of kibble and stale broth are a lifetime away with the pop and squelch of a grape between Sam’s teeth, the chewiness of cheese. Sam does his best to be quiet, silent. Alpha lifts the bowl out of Sam’s lap with only a dozen pieces left in it. Sam doesn’t complain, doesn’t strain after the food. Hands on his thighs, he blinks up at Alpha. Waiting.

“Would you like more water?”

“Yes, master.”

“Of course. Follow me downstairs, please. Oh, you can—” Alpha turns back and forth between the door and Sam on all fours. “You may—walk, Sam. There are stairs.” Alpha is flustered. Sam did bad.

Sam makes sure to leave extra distance, to duck his head extra low while he follows. It’s a nice house, light and quiet. Alpha asks him to kneel and wait by the kitchen door. An empty spot next to the counterspace with hooks drilled into the wall at two different heights—Sam’s spot, no doubt. Sam kneels, waits. More water. Sam accepts, drinks. Alpha watches him, again. Still.

“I spend most of my time here. Or over in the garden, or the living room.” Sam nods, listens. Hands back the empty glass. Alpha leans against the counter. That suit again, but no jacket, no tie, no shoes. Socks, soft-looking. Alpha fumbles with Sam’s glass before he puts it down, away. “I want—you will stay close to me at all times. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

Alpha sighs, “Good,” and their relief puzzles Sam. “I need to get more writing done until dinner. Join me at the table.”

Sam decides that, since he is past the stairs, he is supposed to crawl now. Alpha doesn’t stop him again, so; right choice. Alpha grabs a cushion from the sofa to put it on the floor next to their chair. Relief tugs at Sam. He’d thank Alpha if he could. Well—he can, in a way.

Alpha sits down and so does Sam, back straight and the pillow gentle under his legs, and even seated, his eyes are above tabletop level. Shame creeps into Sam but he can’t hunch, can’t sit crooked or lazy, so he has to—accept. Shuffles a bit closer to Alpha’s chair, but Alpha isn’t even looking. Types on their laptop, puts the pair of glasses waiting for them back onto his nose but squints at the screen regardless. They huff before they peer down at Sam, brows pinched and their scent still dull, unbothered, and Sam’s nose points out: unimprinted. Empty. Virgin. Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Sam spirals and maybe Alpha notices because they’re reaching out, pet—the top of Sam’s head, scratch through his hair. Sam swallows. Alpha focuses on their laptop. Sam stays vigilant. A command might come at any time. It doesn’t, though.

Sam drifts, underneath. Looks at nothing, past Alpha’s lap, past the untouched-looking furniture and the bright white walls. It’s all so…surreal. Every moment Sam doesn’t wake up to being back in the cell, back with the others, with Bel, is a surprise. Leaves him stumbling, balking. This can’t be it. Suddenly, his life is supposed to be—this? It can’t be. It was so…easy.

Sam startles; Alpha startles back, takes their hand off Sam’s head. Sam immediately pushes back into the contact. Alpha pets him for nuzzling their leg. Yes. Okay.

Alpha doesn’t talk. Sam closes his eyes, listens: typing. The slow, steady scratch of Alpha’s fingers through Sam’s hair, across his scalp. Alpha thumbs Sam’s ear, behind, around. Sam rubs his cheek firmer against Alpha’s thigh. Their reactions feed into each other, so the change in Alpha’s scent is to be expected. Sam tenses regardless. Forces himself—calm. Breathe. Let it go. Alpha remains silent, still. Even through guiding Sam’s head aside and around. They scoot their chair back so Sam can move underneath the table, between their legs. Choppy, unsure movements—or just eager. Sam swallows, kisses—their knuckles while they unzip their pants, and he imagines hearing Alpha’s breath catching, out of sight. Sam licks his lip as he watches them peeling their dick out of their fly. He blinks, taken aback. Different than what he was made to practice on, but he can—yeah, he can—do this.

It twitches once Sam’s lips wrap around it, once it pushes across his tongue. Alpha squirms and makes a small noise, buries their fingers back into Sam’s hair. Tucks him close until Sam’s nose is flush with their pubic bone, and Sam can’t see their face but he hears their breath, feels them—thick in his mouth, wet with want and wetter yet down below, where… Sam swallows, airtight. Going dizzy with it already, with Alpha’s scent and taste taking over his system, his brain, everything. Drool, already. Alpha relishes in just this: being buried in something warm and wet and not moving, just absently pets Sam’s head and keeps typing, albeit slower with one hand only. Sam shuffles into more comfort. He can’t sit upright under the table anyway.

Alpha doesn’t move for the longest time, but once they do, their instincts quickly take over. Sam focuses on breathing through his nose on the downstrokes, doesn’t fight. The trickle of his saliva down his chin and throat still irritates him after all this time. It’s easy to give in, accept. Sam’s chemistry reacts, of course. His own scent revs him up even more, makes his hairs stand on end. Alpha growls low in their throat. They get their second hand on Sam’s head, too, helps him stay put while they hump his face. Their thrusts grow erratic and they grunt, and goosebumps race up Sam’s back for the thrill, the deep, intensifying musk in his mouth, throat, his airways, every hidden corner of him; taking over. Filling Sam. Completing him.

Alpha comes loud and sudden, roaring. They pull Sam’s face flush with their crotch and raise their ass off their chair to continue thrusting, even though there’s nowhere to go. Their knot swells belatedly—Sam’s panic gives him enough force to pull back and save the integrity of his jaw. Alpha gasps and then growls. Sam makes it up to them with firm suction, with practiced prods of his long tongue around the sensitive, taut throb of their knot. Sam’s eyes water with the sick, intense taste of actual Alpha come, with the tell-tale heat in his stomach, the damp warmth between Alpha’s legs. Sam can’t see their face, still.

They let him pull off, eventually. They slouch in their chair and Sam coughs and swallows, and Sam doesn’t notice they’re watching until their eyes meet on accident. Sam looks down—between Alpha’s legs, the still-thick, spent throb of their dick; to the inseam of their only-slightly smeared pants. Sam throbs, deep down. He knows Alpha can smell it. Hell, he can scent himself.

Alpha drags their hand down their face. Says, raw and scratchy, “Christ,” and wipes through the mess on Sam’s face; flings the major wetness away, onto the floor. Sam blinks, high. Chases those fingers, the salt on them, Alpha’s skin. Is told, “It wasn’t supposed to escalate this early,” and gets that palm to nuzzle into. Warm, gentle—open. Willing. “But I guess it can’t be helped.”

pt 4: Nutshell

Dean:

It's been about six weeks since the news. Making her 9 weeks pregnant. The pup is about the size of a raspberry. Crazy to think of just how tiny a life can be. Maia's features are just barely noticeable, but it was enough for me. To a stranger's eye she might look normal or at worst bloated from a weekend of binge eating. Each night, without fail, I would set my head over her stomach, gently, and just listen. I didn't expect myself to cry when I'd heard the faint drumming. Along with a keen sense of smell, if I focus hard enough I can hear better than normal humans. One of the perks of being an Alpha, I guess.

I talk to her stomach all the time, tell it how much I love it.  We don't talk about her trauma, but every once in a while I'll catch her crying up a storm. I'd just sit there and hold her. Knowing what happened, made me feel guilty about making her hold that little boy. I had no idea how hard that must've been for her. The trail on Felix has run cold again, he's an elusive fucker.

I enjoyed cooking for Maia every morning, another way of providing for her and the baby. She's been having a hard time lately. Most of the day she can't leave our bedroom. If she does she gets violently nauseous from Bobby's, Sam's, and Cas' scents all hitting her nose at once. Sometimes she's able to bite the bullet and spend a few hours with all of us before retreating back to the safety of my flannels and the cold bedsheets. In the past few days I've noticed she gets very tired, fatigue settling in, the pup drains her out like a battery. I've gotten more territorial and growl at anyone who gets too close to the den, too quickly. Like yesterday, Sam was just chatting Maia up, casual, making her feel like she wasn't so alone or trapped inside our room. And I dunno I just snapped kind of. I shoved him out of the threshold and growled at him, pinning him to a wall until Cas peeled me off. I apologized immediately and Sam brushed it off externally but I could tell that it had effected him.

I let that moment race through my mind as I subconsciously listened to the TV, an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond was playing. I let out a sigh. I too was tired. Most of the time I couldn't sleep. I was constantly on alert, thinking of ways to provide for my growing family in between searching for other foreign Alphas, looking to make their moves. Maia always fell asleep quick when I was with her for the night. It's like I'm her personal version of Ambien. I stared at the ceiling thinking about everything and nothing until sleep washed over me.

I didn't expect to dream at all. But here I was, running into a vaguely familiar convenience store that I'd been working at for about three years. I was late, again. Gods, Tony is gonna kill me, he's the Alpha that runs the store, my boss. Not only was he an Alpha but he's an Alpha with a power complex. My shift was normal, the slow parts agonizing, and time flew when the store was busy. I was closing up tonight, just finishing my last isle, dipping the mop into the cruddy bucket water. Surprisingly Tony didn't give me a piece of his mind. Oddly I liked this little dumb job. Gaining little bits of green for my parents. And saving even tinier bits for me, not that I ever wanted much of anything. I was the kind of girl that would wear my soles down 'till they got holes- only then would I buy myself a new pair. Woah. What the fuck? Did I just call myself a girl?  In the mirror of the employee bathroom I tied my hair up into a tight and high ponytail. I've heard of this before, but never thought more of it as being an old wives tale. I was staring at Maia, through her own earthen-shaded eyes, at myself. Soul-binding. It's a special bond that happens between mates. I was dreaming wasn't I? But all of this felt so real. God, even in a semi-dingy and generic uniform, Maia- sweetheart, you're beautiful.

I walked home, the house was dimly lit. Mom and Dad were up which was very odd. They sat on the old rickety couch, Mom leaning to one side because one of the springs that stuck out of the fabric too much. We couldn't afford to get a new one. I smiled at them not knowing what was wrong. "Hi." I went into the kitchen to grab a snack. I usually didn't take the time to have a lunch break, munching on a granola bar in-between punching in customers orders was enough for me. I noticed a paper on the counter by the sink. I picked it up examining the wall of text before me. A contract for Omega sales. I was deeply confused. After all I've sacrificed for them, they were selling me to strangers.

"Mom? Dad? What the hell is this?" I said walking into the cramped living room and chucking the paper in their direction. Even though I was angry, my eyes welled up with tears. How could they do such a thing? To their own daughter? All over money. They couldn't even look me in the eye. Two men came into view from the shadows of the house. They were both huge, towering over Maia's small frame. This is what it felt like to be an Omega? There's no way Maia could overpower these behemoths, even if she fought back. Me, being an Alpha I'd never felt like that before.

"Hey there, Baby-Doll. I'm glad I invested in you. Mmm those legs." said a foreign voice from behind her. Just that sentence made rage boil deep within me. Don't you talk to my girl, my wife, like that. Maia let her claws extend. She wasn't going to leave willingly. The larger of the two, the one dressed in a guards uniform took one of her wrists easily and snapped it. The pain crippled her, sending her to her knees. The other monument of a man stepped forward, he was dressed nicely, akin to a Mafia boss. He ran his fingers through her hair and I could feel his breath on her ear.

"I like it when you Omegas struggle, gets me all stiff. I'm gonna have a lotta fun breaking you, Baby-Doll. Say your goodbyes."  This must have been Felix. He smelled of cigars, pungent and ever-present. The guard threw her over his shoulder. Screams ripped from her throat, begging for her parents to help her, but they only watched.

"Pleasure doing business, don't come looking for her, I'll be more than happy to chop you up myself." Felix warned them with a malice smile on his smug face. They shoved her into a car and put a black burlap sack over her head so she couldn't see where the Millhouse was located. They shoved her into a small gutted room with a mattress, minus the box-spring, on the cold floor. Her room had a chair, the one I recognized to be the one Sam and I had found her in. there was a functioning toilet there, surprisingly.

She'd been there for three days before her Heat hit, just like she said. It was agonizing, the sweltering temperatures couldn't quell themselves. Her mind was in a deep haze, barely able to hold conscious thought. Her throat was dry from dehydration, her Heat was making it worse too. In the distance at the end of the hall, there was an Omega making terrible animalistic pain filled grunts. Maia's thoughts figured out that conundrum for me. That poor Omega was stuck in this terrible place, in the middle of giving birth. From the sounds of it, no one paid her any mind, left the poor woman to herself in agony.

Felix came into a foggy view, pulling up a chair close to Maia's cell.

"Hello, Baby-Doll. You know I've never seen such a rare bird. You're a virgin right? Must be bad, havin' that Heat." he said taking a lighter and cigarette, lighting it and sucking in a drag. "No worries, Magdalena, I got somebody to help you out." he breathed out the smoke. Her cell door opened with a loud metallic creak. It was the same guard who'd broken her wrist days before. He was visibly taken over, rut-ridden.

Don't you fucking touch her! Get out! I said to myself trapped in the confines of Maia's mind. I knew what was going to happen next. I wanted to rip this Alphas throat out, with my teeth. I would have done that, if I were there. But there was no one to help her. The guard hoisted her up by her broken wrist, making her wail in pain. He threw her into the hard metal chair. He fumbled with his belt. She was terrified.

"Felix. Please make him stop! I'll do anything! I'll clean this place. I'll help that woman, make him stop!!" she begged, anything but this. A smirk formed wide on Felix's cold face.

"Sorry Baby-Doll, it's just business." Maia felt like a deer in headlights, and she felt her heart sink to the center of the Earth, far below her. Her heat made her submit, and it made her too weak to fight back. The guard took her pants and shirt off, revealing her naked form. He forced open her legs and without mercy plunged himself into her. I won't ever forget that scream that echoed out of her esophagus. It was the saddest thing I'd ever heard. Just as she had, I'd felt every touch. The way he'd thrust into her like he was deprived of sex. He gripped her hip bones like a vice, slamming her body into his as he buried himself into her depths.

Maia whimpered with each stroke, and cried. It was all so tragic and senseless. I'd never treat a woman like this. Maia stared, like a lifeless zombie, trying to focus on anything but the reality of what was happening to her. She watched Felix watching her. He had been pleasuring himself.

Felix's eyes rolled in annoyance, the woman from the end of the hall was ruining his mood. "C'mon! Shut the fuck up. It's your fifth product, get used to it, Darling!"

The guard didn't let up, he'd changed positions, grinding her face into the back of the chair, taking her from behind. Maia'd stopped crying. She didn't want to give Felix anymore satisfaction. She blacked out by the time the guard released his fourth knot inside her. Just when I thought she'd finally found some kind of rest, a deafening bang rang out through the complex jolting her from the dark. The guard's lifeless body lay on top of her, his warm blood showering her in red. They were still connected. Felix was inside the cell now, Beretta drawn and steaming.

Felix was brimming with anger. He heaved at the guards' body, ripping his member out of Maia's core. Felix's chest was heaving, "Consider yourself lucky Baby-Doll, ain't nobody claimin' a jewel like you."

Some time had past, a plague swept through the Omegas in the complex. Maia found herself thinking she was near death. Chills, intense body-aches, to top it off with violent vomiting. Felix entered her cell and threw something at her, a pregnancy test.

"Piss on it, now." he demanded from her. His face crumbled in disgust. "You reek of honey, Baby-Doll." She is not your anything you dick!

She watched him with fury in her eyes and followed his dumb order. I'm sick, I'm just sick. She thought. A few minutes of silence and Felix yanked the stick from her grip. A smile spread across his face.

"You are useful after all, Magdalena. Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth." She was taken by surprise by him quoting scripture, something Maia was unfamiliar with since her faith was pagan. But she understood the point he was making. She was pregnant, forcibly.

At first she didn't know how to take the news. Who would given the Hell you've been through? As time went on, she found a little bit of hope in the life growing within her. She would hum Fleetwood Mac songs to it and fantasize about holding her little girl or boy, she didn't know the gender and wouldn't care as long as it was healthy. Once in the middle of the night she woke up confused, feeling a foreign movement from inside. After a few moments of contemplation she'd loved that feeling. A sure sign of life, her only sense of hope in the darkness of Pandora's box that she felt she was trapped in. Gods, can't someone open up this jar of horrors? Release me. She thought.

Felix noticed her happiness and by the next morning she felt her cold skin against the metal chair. Her head was throbbing and she felt groggy as all Hell like she'd been drugged. She opened her eyes to see that her arms were above her chained to the ceiling and she'd been locked in that chair. She took a deep breath in and winced. A dull pain in her abdomen. She looked down. Don't look Love, your heart'll break. She was dressed in only a bra and underwear. And across her stomach was a sutured incision. Not claw marks like I assumed. She couldn't help the flood that escaped her eyes, dripping onto her thighs, cold like the sting of death.

Her only sense of happiness had been literally ripped from her. How cruel. She felt so empty. She thought she couldn't feel anything else, except there was one thing left. A primal rage that made her wild and see red.

"Felix!!! Where is my Baby?!! Bring me my Baby!!" she yelled out on the top of her lungs with everything she had left in her. Felix came into her view.

"Oh, poor Magdalena. Someone has to pay rent." he said gripping the cold steel bars of her cell. Maia gnashed her teeth and her claws extended out. She yanked down on her chains and they gave way but only half of it came undone.

"Don't get cocky with me Bitch! This is what you were put on this Earth to do. Eat, shit, and bear pups- that is all you are!" He exerted his dominance. He opened the door to her cell and began to beat her.

I woke from Maia's nightmare with a gasp, staring up at the ceiling. I was relieved to be back in the waking world, being wrapped under the warmth of the covers. I knew every part of what I was second-hand experiencing was real and had happened to her. I felt every bit of it. And I knew her feelings and thoughts, her insurmountable joys and her deepest lows. I closed my eyes and sighed I expected my arm to hold the body of my two loves but there was only air in her place of the bed. My mind jumped to conclusions I turned my head to see if I was only imagining things but all I saw was a mess of sheets and the impression of her head left on her pillow.

My heart semi-relaxed as I heard terrible sounds of gagging and retching coming from my left. The light was on in the bathroom and the door open. My eyes searched the room for a hair-tie, finding a pink one on her bedside table, I grabbed it and stepped into the light. Maia was sprawled out on the cold tile, her head looming over the open toilet. Looks like she's been here a while. I joined her, spooning up against her back, casting my legs on either side of her equally. I drew her hair up for her, making a bun. She was barely able to reach the handle, but stretched and flushed the putrid down.

I rubbed her back in a circular motion and used my other palm to caress her forming bump. Our growing Little Bean. She shuddered from the exchange of my warm touch on her freezing skin. Feeling the wave of sickness lessen, she rested her head against my shoulder.

Maia:

His whiskey scent, eased my queasy stomach, in a near instant. I rested my forehead in his nape before I spoke weakly, my throat still raw from upchucking.

"It's so cold." I told him. His hand from my back left and caressed the other side of my belly keeping me warm. He didn't know what I was talking about.

"Hell, it's cold, so cold. I thought it was 'spposed to be all fire 'n' brimstone." Dean shifted his head to look at me seriously.

"How'd you know that?" he asked, I could sense his heart skipping. He was worrying again. My eyes met his.

"Dreamt it, felt it, like I was trapped in your melon. They tortured you, the black eyed assholes, 'til you broke. And then they made you work on that rack. They hurt you." he gulped scratchily and ducked his lips into the nape of my neck, where my claim-mark was.

"If I saw that, what'd you see?" I asked him, not wanting to prod him further, understanding his Hell. Please, don't avoid the question Dean. Just speak to me. He took in my scent, calming himself.

"Your time, in the Millhouse." he said truthfully. My nose started to flare, at that thought. I didn't want to remember any of it, my version of Hell. I wanted it to stay stuffed down, locked inside far away. But I needed to know, just how much he experienced. How much of my darkest days did he see?

A gasp left me, " How much?" I asked him, grabbing his hand that still clutched at my belly. He slipped his thumb underneath my shirt, finding my scar with ease, and traced it tenderly.

"All of it. Felt it too. Felix, that sumbitch is gonna pay." he said his voice catching on his words, upset. I grimaced and took a deep breath, needing more of his whiskey.

"Dean? Can you help me up? This kid isn't even the size of a walnut yet and it's mastered the art of exhaustion." I laced my words with comedy, like I always did when I was under stress. He kissed my claim mark before standing.

"Anything for you." he grabbed underneath my armpits and hoisted me up to my feet, making sure I had my footing before letting go. Even with all this hurt, this unimaginable anchor that we now shared, he was still so incredibly perfect. How do you do it? And how did Fate let me meet you? It really is like we were made for each other. I turned to see his face. My hand went to his cheek, my thumb rubbing his scruff. Those sad, sad eyes, so heavy.

"Thank you." I told him sincerely. "Don't have to." he replied. We returned to bed, our scents harmonizing perfectly together. Dean set his head gently over my bump, like he did every night.

"Now you listen to Daddy, Little Bean, quit making Momma sick, she needs to sleep." I loved it when he talked to our kid. Little Bean, huh? I could get used to that. It's cute as shit. I laughed a bit.

"Little Bean?" I questioned him running my fingers through his short hair on the back of his head. He lifted his head and turned to reply to me.

"What? You got a better nickname?" my mouth twisted in a frown and I rolled my eyes at him.

"No." I said. "'Kay then, so 'til we find out what you are, your name is Little Bean Winchester." he pulled up the fabric of my shirt, as if the baby could hear better without the obstruction. He placed a tender kiss over my scar, making me tear up, damned pregnancy hormones!

"Love you." he told my belly before pulling down my shirt for warmth. He covered me in the comforter set and his hand cupped my cheek and under my jawline dragging me in for a kiss. "Goodnight, my Love."  he told me before landing his head on the pillow.

"'Night." I told him, his eyes closed. I let my mind thinking of nothing, just focusing on the sweet whiskey that filled my nostrils, traveling into my lungs, until the sandman let me sleep the rest of the night through. I didn't dream of any more nightmares. Thank the Gods! In my slumber I did hear the bubbling of a slow moving stream. How peaceful.

My eyes were shut even with the morning light streaming across my face making the little veins in my eyelids visible, gross. Until I heard a loud crash from below, on the first floor, it was an eerily familiar sound that could only mean someone had broken a window. The tiny follicles on the back of my neck stood on end and my eyes shot open. Dean was leaning over me, already awake and alert from the sound. He cupped my mouth so that I didn't make a sound, he placed a silent index finger over his lips, a command to keep me quiet. He saw the panic in my eyes.

I sat up slowly in bed being careful not to make the bedspring creak underneath me. We heard the sure sound of footsteps, heavy, most likely an Alpha. Dean got up from bed with the stealth of his hunter skills on full display. He grabbed the loaded gun from his bedside drawer and stalked barefooted to the bedroom door, listening intently. I nearly forgot to breathe. Was Felix finally here to steal me away, again? His prized chew-toy.  Dean left the room and the door cracked just a bit.

Through the crack I saw Sam, in the same high alert that his brother armed himself with, gun in tow. Together they snuck down the stairs, I waited in the silence. Where's Bobby and Castiel? How many intruders were there? How many Alphas could Felix conjure up? 10? 20? More? I listened close, a scuffle ensued, I could hear Dean grunting, and Sam was fighting too. I could hear Castiel enter the fight now coming up from the basement. Three. There has to be more than just three. Dean single-handedly killed off eight rut-ridden Alphas, he was strong but not Superman. He was lucky he made it out of that one alive in the first place. The not knowing was absolutely making my skin crawl.

Just when the fight got louder, I heard nothing at all, stillness left the action hanging from a thread. Did they get dragged outside the house? I heard no gunshots, so that means they hadn't had the chance to fill the intruders full of lead. I got up from bed, not sensing any immediate danger. Glass shattered and something shoved me to the ground. One of the Alphas had found the bedroom and by some act of God entered into the second floor. Glass embedded it's sharp unforgiving teeth into my flesh. Everything happened so fast I barely had time to let my claws escape my fingers. I tried to identify my attacker, sniffing the air around me. I couldn't quite make out the scent but it was not Felix's distinct Cigars.

The Alpha took advantage of me protecting my belly, that's all I cared about really. He grabbed my hair and dragged me out of the bedroom, down the stairs, glass grinding it's way further into my flesh and into my back. It stung to say the least. Each hardwood step thudded against my back, my spine slamming against the hardness, I let out a scream. I grabbed for the Alphas hand that had a hold of my hair. My claws met the skin of his forearm and I dug in and scraped as hard as I could. His blood casting onto my face.

"Bitch!" he landed a good punch to my jaw, making me see stars. From outside, I'd heard growl like I'd never heard before. It wasn't just possessive, it was laced with contempt and itching for bloodshed. It was Dean, realizing my scream and imminent danger. The front door had been nearly ripped from it's hinges, hanging in an awkward position.

I craned my neck to look, my body laying in a small pool of blood at the base of the stairwell. His gun was aimed at the Alphas distracted face, I ducked down covering my ears and head as Dean unloaded the entire clip into him, filling the wood with more blood. The first shot entered his face, most likely causing a swift death, making his body thud to the floor. Once down on the ground, Dean stood over him finishing out the magazine, overkill. I knew Dean was protective and possessive, but this reminded me of major feral activity. Dean picked me up, his heart unable to calm down.

He carried me over to Bobby's wooden chair, one arm under my thighs and the other holding my head over his shoulder. He slammed me into the chair, it wheels  sliding me into the bookshelf from the force he gave it. A claw hooked itself around the elastic of my pajama pants, shredding them with ease. What are you doing?

"Dean?" I asked but he didn't answer at all, overcome by rage, unable to control himself. My heart sunk when he broke his belt apart and pulled down his jeans revealing his rock hard member. I clasped my legs together, my subconscious mind knew where this was going. My eyes started to tear up with salty wetness.

"Dean! Please. I'm okay. Don't!!" he gripped my hips, his claws digging into bone, his grip bruising. His whiskey was so strong it burned my lungs. My lips quivered. Not this. Not again. Not you. I wasn't slick, he plunged himself inside me, using my body weight against me, forcing my hips into his with his hands. It felt like I was being ripped in two. I screamed out. All I could think about was our Little Bean. That's what I let myself focus on. Dean was not gentle, like our first sexual encounter. He grunted out words with each pain-filled thrust.

"Can't. Stop. Need. Scent. Off. My. 'Mega. Mine." his breath was close to my claim-mark and he bit it again, his sharp teeth grinding into my flesh relentlessly. It was not euphoric like it had been the night of our, marriage. It was like a bunch of rows of needles into my flesh, nearly down to the bone. An inhuman scream escaped my throat. This was my worst nightmare. I thought I'd been through Hell, twice. First being my time in the Hole, second being my soul-bonding dream feeling my Love's time in actual Hell. But this, was worse than both of them combined. Please, I can't lose another baby. Just stop.

My vision started to blur when I saw the figure of a man standing in the threshold of the damaged front door. My nose picked up Pinewood. Sam staring at the horror in front of him, his brother turned feral to the point of incoherent thought. The life of his niece or nephew hanging in the balance. There was a stream of blood on his face from the fight.

"DEAN!!" his gruff voice rang out hoping to snap his brother out of his vicious- rabid state. It worked. Castiel came up behind Sam peering at the scene. His clothes stained with blood. They'd won the fight, but there was a different one unfolding in front of them. Sam's eyes glazed over with tears as he entered the house further. Dean's fangs rescinded back into their gums and he de-latched himself from my nape. He was trembling. Warm blood trickled down my neck soaking into my shirt.

Dean let out a sob, "Oh my God. Oh my God! Maia. I'm so-". He realized his sins, taking in my form. He exited his member from me, barely any slick around it. I whimpered from his exit, my insides sore.

Sam was next to Dean now, his focus on me and my condition. Sam's eyes jutting back to Dean his hands trembling, covering his mouth, staring at his now flaccid erection, covered in blood. He zipped himself up and stood there sobbing into his hand, not believing what he'd just did. Sam took me into his arms and hoisted me up gently my glassed side brushing against his chest, making me suck in a breath from the sting. Dean growled at this, he didn't like another Alpha touching me, even if to save me, even if it was his own brother.

"You need to back off." Sam's gruff voice told him. "Cas, upstairs." he demanded. Dean's expression returned to a deep unyielding sadness. Dean was a wreck, a train wreck. He had curled up with a bottle of Jack slumped against the wall of our bedroom tears still falling. Sam didn't care about my naked state in that moment, nor did Cas but I don't think he has the wherewithal to be ashamed about such a thing anyway. Sam set me down on my bed on the edge so Cas could evaluate and heal the damage that was in his repertoire. He healed my mark first. Making the dizziness lessen.

His angelic touch gently hovered over my bump. I watched him intently. Little Bean? I need you to be okay. In his now drunkenness, Dean interjected, "Cas. Is it okay?!" taking another large swig of the poison.

"The child is unharmed, and still healthy." he announced. Artemis! Thank you!  I praised the moon goddess in my head, releasing tears from relief. Not only did she reign over the moon but in ancient times, she was protector of children, especially the unborn. With that monkey off my back, I felt my actual back sting and ache. Dean closed his eyes, thankful but still unable to forgive himself. Much to my dismay, the glass had to be removed manually, with tweezers until Cas could heal over it.

Sam spoke, telling his brother what to do this time. " Dean, we've got this, go take a shower and clean yourself up." not being able to interject or even look at me, he took a shower. Sam helped with the extraction of the hundreds of glass shards that were embedded into my flesh, some deeper than others. Sam plucked and Cas healed. My shirt had to come off and just as common decency I used it to cover my breasts. Dean came out of the shower, rather quickly, probably wanting to be by my side, knowing the pain he'd caused.

The glass was in my shoulder down to my elbow and more in my back. I don't know how long it took them to meticulously remove them all, but it was oddly soothing to hear each one clink collected into a bowl.

"Ah!" I let out from a particularly deep shard exiting the flesh of my back.

"Sorry." said Sam, "Last one." I started to gnash my teeth but it was over, so I'd been done with being in pain. Castiel really did have a magic touch. He gave me his best sympathetic smile, which wasn't a very convincing one. I smiled back at him.

"What the Hell?!" Bobby had come home to his house looking like a small tornado had danced around in it. Sam left to tend to Bobby's fuming state and Dean followed. Cas finished up patching me up with his weird but resourceful angel mojo. And I was finally able to relax into the confines of my nest. Dean's whiskey still present on the sheets. Cas plodded out to the hallway.

"Castiel? Thank you." I told him. He gave me a better smile and returned the favor with a , "You are welcome." before trudging down the steps. I was tired but not enough to go to sleep. My pack exchanged heated words before starting the grueling process of fixing the house. Brooms put to floors and bleach to wipe away blood. Panels of wood put in place of broken windows. Even with the three of them working diligently it was a rest-of-the-day affair. I caressed my stomach while the movie Inception played out it's final scenes. I got pissed at the ending, leaving on a cliffhanger like that?!

It was now night-time and decided to come down to the living room where Dean was still steadily filling his gullet with liquor, Bobby had his nose in a book, Sam was on the couch enthralled in a dated serial killer documentary, and Castiel was saint elsewhere. I sat next to Dean. He scooted away from me. That stung deeper than the glass.

I turned the TV off, ready to talk to Dean, and wanting everyone else to hear our conversation. Sam gave me a bitchface look but let it go, knowing the events of today needed to be talked out sooner rather than later.

"Dean,-" I started.

"There ain't shit to talk about." he rudely interjected. I sighed and raked my tongue against a canine, a habit I did when I was angry. I could feel the mile long stares from my pack-mates, listening closely. They waited for a shit-storm.

"We need to talk about it. Alright?" I told him putting my hand on his knee. He got up from the couch and stood.

"I fucking raped you, Maia. What's stopping you from walking out that door?! Like everything else I care about? I raped you in almost the same way you were in the Hole. How does that not make you see that guards face on mine? Huh? Tell me! I put our Baby in danger." I did have flashbacks from that night when the events unfolded today. But I wasn't going to let him know that.

"You went feral. It was not your-" I tried to make him listen to reason. He wasn't having any of it.

"of course it's my fault!! I wasn't strong enough to control my hands. Why the fuck don't you hate me? For it." he said. With that I stood, and got close to him.

To catch him off guard I took his hand in mine, his were warm which made the chill melt away for a moment.

"Dean?" I started sweetly before landing a firm flat hand into his cheek. Eye for an eye I guess. I let my voice out powerful so that he knew I meant every bit of what I told him next.

"Do NOT throw your guilt on me. Long before today I forgave you. I'm forgiving you now. I will continue to show you mercy for anything you hurl my way in the future. Little Bean is fine, and that's all I care about. Don't act like I don't understand your side. Our souls are linked. Permanently. You may not be able to forgive yourself, but I'm telling you, I'm not giving up a lifetime of happiness for one bad day." I guided his hand to my stomach and kissed him on the lips.

"Come to bed when you're ready." I told him. Bobby gave me a thumbs up as I stalked up the stairs retreating to the safety of my nest. I touched my belly. Sorry, Little Bean, we had a crazy day today, huh? I know Daddy doesn't feel good right now but he'll come around.

I tossed and turned in bed for a few hours before Dean came in, removing his clothes down to his boxers and laying by my side, not saying a word. Instead the only signals I got from him was a firm kiss on my lips and him resting his head on my bump, listening to Little Bean's thumping heart until both of us fell fast asleep.