Samandriel lets it rest at this point, although he can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Sam Winchester... is much better than he gives himself credit for. Samandriel hopes that whatever happens a week from then on, will be good for Sam.
A week later, Dean is the one who brings in the mail. He doesn't have to - the pack is large enough for someone of a lower rank to do menial tasks like that. Except they don't run their pack like that, and if he's the one walking past the mail box but for some reason doesn't take the mail inside, Ellen will kick his ass, and with good reason.
They're a team, not a hierarchy, at least not in their regular day to day.
When he sees a letter with the Novak family crest friggin' imprinted on it, he stops in the hallways, just inside the door, and purses his lips for a moment.
Yeah, he remembers that catastrophe well, remembers holding a shaking, feverish omega in his arms and helping him get his fingers inside of himself properly to easy some of the pain of his first heat, and fighting the terrible anger that came with the realization that no one had bothered to teach the boy about what it means to be an omega. How to handle his own body, at least once he presented. Getting Castiel's slick all over his own hand hadn't had anything to do with sex - Dean isn't the greatest guy, he thinks, but he knows he's better than feeling aroused like some sicko at fingering an omega totally out of it with pain and hormones. He'd felt for the kid. Muriel cried when they realized his room didn't even have a lock, and Dean can't even say he blamed her, sweet girl that she is. Bit too sweet for Sammy, but at least not tied to a family with quite that big a bag of issues.
When he sees that family crest, Dean remembers the broken whisper of his brother's name that had kept falling from Castiel's lips as they helped ease his growing pain.
He never mentioned it to Sam, not on the drive home, not since. He knows Sam wouldn't admit it, but Dean thinks his brother has a soft spot for this omega in particular - no use getting his hopes up. The omega might be sweet on Sammy, too, but that doesn't mean that doucheface of an uncle he has won't disrespect the omega's choice. No point telling Sam the omega genuinely wants his knot and his everything, if it may still never come to pass, because those rich packs are just dicks on legs. Yes, even the females.
So when he sees the letter addressed to their head of pack, Dean scoffs, tries to remember that good things rarely happen, and calls out: "Hey, Sammy. Look what just came in the mail, I think the Novaks are gonna sue after all."
Well, he did accidentally knock over that ugly angel statuette. Accidentally.
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A week later, Dean is the one who brings in the mail. He doesn't have to - the pack is large enough for someone of a lower rank to do menial tasks like that. Except they don't run their pack like that, and if he's the one walking past the mail box but for some reason doesn't take the mail inside, Ellen will kick his ass, and with good reason.
They're a team, not a hierarchy, at least not in their regular day to day.
When he sees a letter with the Novak family crest friggin' imprinted on it, he stops in the hallways, just inside the door, and purses his lips for a moment.
Yeah, he remembers that catastrophe well, remembers holding a shaking, feverish omega in his arms and helping him get his fingers inside of himself properly to easy some of the pain of his first heat, and fighting the terrible anger that came with the realization that no one had bothered to teach the boy about what it means to be an omega. How to handle his own body, at least once he presented. Getting Castiel's slick all over his own hand hadn't had anything to do with sex - Dean isn't the greatest guy, he thinks, but he knows he's better than feeling aroused like some sicko at fingering an omega totally out of it with pain and hormones. He'd felt for the kid. Muriel cried when they realized his room didn't even have a lock, and Dean can't even say he blamed her, sweet girl that she is. Bit too sweet for Sammy, but at least not tied to a family with quite that big a bag of issues.
When he sees that family crest, Dean remembers the broken whisper of his brother's name that had kept falling from Castiel's lips as they helped ease his growing pain.
He never mentioned it to Sam, not on the drive home, not since. He knows Sam wouldn't admit it, but Dean thinks his brother has a soft spot for this omega in particular - no use getting his hopes up. The omega might be sweet on Sammy, too, but that doesn't mean that doucheface of an uncle he has won't disrespect the omega's choice. No point telling Sam the omega genuinely wants his knot and his everything, if it may still never come to pass, because those rich packs are just dicks on legs. Yes, even the females.
So when he sees the letter addressed to their head of pack, Dean scoffs, tries to remember that good things rarely happen, and calls out: "Hey, Sammy. Look what just came in the mail, I think the Novaks are gonna sue after all."
Well, he did accidentally knock over that ugly angel statuette. Accidentally.