Chapter Text
Dean sat in the campus coffee shop and downed his second large coffee in twenty minutes. He had spent the last two days driving furiously to Palo Alto, only stopping when he absolutely had to for gas, food, and a few hours sleep in the back seat. He was exhausted but he needed Sam. Whenever Dean had stopped, he texted or called Sam, but had yet to hear back from him. Sam had left for Stanford three months ago, and hadn't actually talked to Dean in a month. There were a couple texts about how busy he was, and how heavy his schedule was, but nothing at all for the last week. The timing of that sucked, as in the last week, Dean's whole world had fallen apart. Hence the drive to Stanford and the hope that the housing department could tell him what dorm Sam was at, if his little brother didn't get back to him soon.
He buried his head in Cat's Cradle, Vonnegut as always offering comfort as he sipped his third coffee. He was tucked in a corner booth, back to the door, easy access to the coffee refill station, when he caught his brother's distinctive laugh. Sure enough, there was Sam standing at the counter with a couple friends, laughing and chatting. He couldn't believe it, this type of happenstance really only existed in movies, but he wasn't going to question his luck. He was getting ready to go over when he heard Sam scoff as he looked at his phone.
"Your brother yet again Sam?" He heard the guy ask.
"Yeah, you think he'd get the hint." Sam shook his head as he deleted his messages. "I mean, I'm busy here, leading an actual life and he keeps bugging me."
The pretty blonde with them looked faintly concerned, "If he's leaving this many messages, maybe it's important."
"Nah, he just probably had a fight with Dad, when I call at Thanksgiving, it will all have blown over. You know how it is with these needy omegas." Dean flinched at hearing this. Sam continued, "I mean he's nice enough, but man I was so glad to leave, it's clear he would never amount to anything, he barely got his GED." At this derision, Dean didn't know whether to be furious or heartbroken. The whole reason he hadn't pursued education was because he had to take care of Sam. Their dad had felt the best thing that his omega son could do, was raise his younger alpha brother to be the best he could. When Sam had received a full ride to Stanford, he had been so proud, he had done his job. Now, Sam made it sound like he was nothing, everything he had given up, was nothing.
"Sam," the woman chided, "saying omegas aren't as smart is a stereotype."
"Not a stereotype if it's true," he heard Sam mutter, "I got out of that on the road life, and I don't want them to pull me back in. Doubt I'll even try to see them at Christmas, rather spend time in the dorm, than have to deal with all that bullshit."
The guy they were with laughed, a casual, cruel sound, "Yeah our Sam here is way too smart for his trashy family, moving on to better things." Sam looked a little ashamed at this blunt statement, but still nodded his head. The girl looked frustrated at them, but didn't add anything. The three grabbed their beverages.
As they turned and walked back towards the door, Sam saw Dean, saw his heartbroken face. He turned a furious shade of red and began to open his mouth. Dean's eyes went blank and then hardened. For a second Dean thought about just letting him go, not saying anything to him, but he was really angry at Sam, this arrogant kid, trying to be the type of alpha he had always sworn he would never be.
He walked up to the three of them, looked Sam dead in the eye, "I'm sorry you feel that way. I promise I won't bother you again." He turned to leave. "Dean -" Sam began, "No" Dean replied, "You don't get to talk to me now. You'll offer a fake apology, but once I'm gone, you'll say the same things again. I get it. All I ask is that if Dad contacts you, you haven't seen me, heard from me, and don't know where I am." He didn't even wait for a response, just left the coffee shop and walked to his car. It turns out that at 22, the only thing that had never let him down was a car, and it was that thought that pushed a tear out of his eye.
*******
"Balls" Bobby yelled from under the sink in the kitchen. It had been draining slow so he went to take it apart and now was dealing with a stubborn U joint that refused to come undone. He was muttering enough and between the storm outside and the muffling of the cabinets, it took a minute to realize that someone was knocking at the door. He grumbled all the way, but when he opened up and saw Dean looking soaked and broken, he softened, "Get in here, ya idjit." They moved to the living room and Bobby got a fire going and went to get towels. When he got back, Dean was still just standing there, shivering. He handed over the towels and asked, "How much whiskey we going to need?" Dean smiled faintly, "a lot." Bobby nodded and grabbed a bottle and a couple glasses.
They sat in silence for a bit, letting Dean dry, letting the whiskey soothe. Finally the young man spoke up. "With Sam gone, Dad decided I was now a liability, and planned to mate me off to one of his hunter buddies. Didn't ask me, I only found out because I overheard him on the phone trying to broker a deal." Dean swallowed more whiskey. "When I confronted him about it, he said it was for the best, that it would be stable for me, that I would have pups and someone looking out for me. Look how good I did with Sam, that I would be happiest if I was in my proper place." The last was said with a sneer. "When I disagreed, he told me I didn't have a choice, he was my alpha dad and I would do as he ordered, just like I always did, since I was such a good omega." Another pause, another swallow. "I just couldn't do it, Bobby. So much of my life was already about giving up what I wanted, I mean I thought Sam was worth it, but I thought maybe now was going to be my chance to do something, not be so tied down. When dad was asleep I grabbed a few hundred bucks, the Impala and hit the road."
Bobby wished he was surprised, but he wasn't. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. John wasn't an evil man, but he was traditional, and rather clueless when it came to his sons. He would have been different if his sweet beta Mary had lived, but without her, the worst of his impulses were allowed to flourish.
"Have you called Sam about this mess?" He couldn't figure out why this caused Dean to slump even more, it even looked as if he might cry. "The first thing I did was drive to see him. He didn't answer my calls. Eventually, through dumb luck I overheard him talk about how I'm useless and an embarrassment and how he doesn't want anything to do with his family. And that's how I end up here." Now Bobby was mad, after everything Dean had done for that boy, for him to say those things was just wrong and cruel. The worst was, he knew that Dean would take it to heart, would believe it, when Bobby knew it was just an idjit teen shooting off his mouth to look cool and that soon enough he would regret those words. He planned to call both alphas and give them a piece of his mind, but first he had to fix Dean.
"Son," he faltered for a second, "How about you go up, have a nice shower and use the spare room. We'll figure it all out in the morning." Dean nodded exhausted from his rollercoaster of the last several days. He shuffled off with a muttered thanks, and after he left Bobby got to work.
In the end all he did was leave rather long, rather shouted, rather angry messages for both of the alpha Winchesters, the end of both adding, "If either of you try to find, or contact Dean in any way, I'll show up on your doorstep and fill you full of buckshot. He's better than either of you deserve." He slammed the phone down and made a few other calls.
In the morning, Dean was awoken by the smell of bacon and eggs. He smiled. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made him a hot breakfast. He had a shower and ambled downstairs in cozy sweats. He sat at the table and drained a cup of coffee quick enough. Bobby put two plates on the table and they both dug in. Once they were done and fresh coffee, Bobby decided it was time for a game plan.
"I'd say you could stay here, I would love for you to stay here, but you know your dad will eventually show up, and cause you trouble. I figure you are owed the chance for once to do what you want. Any idea what that might be?" Dean shook his head, he had never really had an opportunity to think about what he wanted for himself before. "Well while you get that sorted, I have this friend Rufus. He's a cranky, stubborn fool of an old coot, but he's a good sort. Owns a garage in a small town an hour or so outside Minneapolis. He's looking to hire on some help, even has a small apartment above his garage you could stay in. Think that might suit you?"
Dean thought about it for about a minute. "Yeah Bobby, that sounds like a good start for me."
"Now how you doing for...medication?" Bobby turned red asking this. Dean also flushed, but also smiled. "I'm good for another three months, I had just filled a script before I hit the road. I have enough suppressants to get me through until I can get settled and get a doctor." Bobby nodded, relieved.
"I'll give Rufus a call, let him know you're headed his way and you'll be there in a couple of days."
Bobby left Dean alone, and for the first time Dean realized that he was in charge of his own life. He smiled.