Chapter Text
"For the last time, where is the girl?" came the smokey, deep British tone in a conversational manner.
If had I wanted to, I probably could have reached out and touched the demon standing nearest to me.
My hands were clamped firmly over my nose and mouth to stifle my own breathing as I listened to what was happening just below me unfolding in terror. I couldn't move or turn away because I risked exposure from where I was. The area around me was covered in dead leaves and twigs, and the last thing my parents had imparted to me was their desperate will for my survival.
"I won't ask again," he warned, like a parent warning their child away from another piece of candy.
"Vá comer um pau."
My mother's voice had been full of rage and venom, and she'd followed it with a contemptuous spit. An appropriate follow-up when you tell someone to go eat a dick, and if the disgust in the British voice was anything to go by, my mother had spit in the man's face.
It was also the last thing she ever said.
"So be it," had come the voice, followed by a snap of fingers.
And suddenly the air had been torn by the sound of snarling dogs and my parents screaming. The sound had been accompanied by the laughter of the dog handler as it had echoed unnaturally all around me, and it was something I would never forget.
*
As usual, I awoke with a startled gasp.
It had been almost three years since that night, and still, I always found myself waking in a cold sweat when that nightmare visited me. There was a noticeable tremble in my hand as I lifted it to cover my eyes for a moment to chase away the remnants of that memory, remembering peering through the underbrush along that small wash out's edge, seeing my parents get ripped apart.
It wasn’t even the worst thing I’d seen given armageddon, but it still made sleep an elusive bastard on my best days.
Sitting up, I yawned and rubbed my eyes, knowing I wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Judging by the weak golden glow coming through the broken windows of the farmhouse's one remaining room, dawn wasn’t too far off anyway. This place was isolated enough I could stop for a day or so to catch my breath, check my gear, and try and figure out my next move, but not secure enough to really camp out in, an apparent fire having gutted a majority of the structure and exposed the basement. The facade I had seen peeking through the trees had been just that, a disappointing facade.
Even as I sat up and reached for my backpack I knew that my next move was imperative for my continued survival. If I messed up it was going to be the last thing I ever did. Well... if I messed up any further. I was still cursing the accident that had broken the last of my suppressant injections, and the fact that I had been unable to obtain more. I had dropped my bag a few days prior when I had been sleeping up a tree; it slipped from my fingers as I had untied it from the branch where it had been safe and secure for the entire previous night. I had watched it as it seemed to hit every branch down in complete dismay, knowing the fragile syringes wouldn't survive.
Fuck being an Omega, and FUCK going into heat. I needed to find somewhere to hide, and in this world that was a lot easier said than done. Suppressants were harder and harder to find, but even when they had been easy there had been all kinds of complications with using them, some of them potentially deadly, and I had already been taking the harsh drugs without a break for far too long. I had a week, no longer, and then my life was going to suck for a bit.
It looked like the area I had been heading into was a little more developed than the rolling fields I had been wandering for so long though. If I got lucky, I might be able to find a storm cellar or something that I could really lock down, something made to keep someone safe.
*
Luck was an asshole.
At first, it hadn't seemed that way; I'd found a house with a completely intact and more importantly clean, although musty, storm cellar. Even better? Right outside the storm cellar was the remnants of an overgrown garden. There wasn't much left that the end of the world hadn't destroyed, but a few scraggly tomatoes were welcome, but more importantly was the rosemary. A huge, pungent, overgrown bush of rosemary, right outside the doors. The kind that could be thrashed a little before I locked up to help mask my smell, so long as I sealed the door well. Something that would help me be a little more safe.
Then, the day my heat started the area I had been in had suddenly been inundated with Demon sign. I had stood amongst the crushed rosemary in complete horror as a huge black vortex had suddenly come roaring to life, touching down what had to be just miles from where I was. There had been a town there and I was willing to bet that a huge portion of whatever population was left there was now possessed, and if a stray Alpha wasn’t frightful enough, the idea of a Demon was that much more terrifying.
I could still vividly remember crossing near the border of Utah, which was wholly occupied by Croatoan infected and possessed. Lining the highway, for as far as I could see, had been crucified, disemboweled Omegas. From what I could tell, they had been nailed to their crosses, and then gutted and left to die there, slowly, no mercy granted.
This world was not forgiving to my kind.
So, as I felt the first pangs of my heat start I was running, literally, for my life.
My heat hit me like a loony toons character running into a frying pan. Forcing myself to move without stopping I tried to ignore the way my body screamed at the rubbing of my clothes, or the need to relieve the ache between my legs as my body craved. I couldn't tell if it was dry or raining, my body was so drenched in sweat and slick. It made it hard to move with my clothing trying to constrict me, but I couldn't stop to try and fix it, and I knew it. Stopping meant death right then. I didn’t even stop moving when the haze of the fever overtook me and I was left stumbling, crashing into the hulking shapes of abandoned cars as I desperately tried to force my body on along the freeway my feet were following. Things began to dance in my peripheries, dark shapes in the hazy twilight of my mind that I could not decide the validity of when I finally sought shelter.
My clothing chaffed irritably against my sweat soaked skin as my head swam and my body ached as I crawled into the abandoned, rotting trailer in the middle of the roadway. The thing had seen better days, the small airstream listing dangerously to one side, but it was whole. I noticed the windows cracked but otherwise intact as I struggled to close the door behind me, engaging the flimsy lock. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing in the open fields of Kansas, and it had probably been at least two days since I had seen the demon sign. It wasn't like I had any more options, and it would at least offer me shelter from the random thunderstorms.
Half out of my mind I was barely aware of my shaking hand pulling out a tube of lipstick and hastily scrawling a seal on the door my mother had ingrained in my brain. It was like my hand was on autopilot, dropping the remainder of the stolen red cosmetic to the moldy carpet the moment it was done. With a shaky breath, I forced myself to go for the round cardboard tube of table salt in my bag. My shaking hands dropped the container twice before I was able to get a complete circle around myself, using way more than necessary in my daze. My actions were locked in desperate urgency, but everything seemed to be moving incredibly slowly.
I lay there for an eternity that passed in a blink, gasping for breath that burned in my lungs before a heat cramp rolled through me. It was sharp enough to make me cry out as slick further drenched my jeans, and before I knew it my right hand was down my pants rubbing desperately against my clit as my left rolled my nipple roughly through my grimy, sweat-soaked tank top. That was all it took.
I came with a scream that caused nearby birds to take flight in a cacophony of noise that made my blood to run cold.
The moment of peace that came after my desperate orgasm was overshadowed by the terror of knowing that I had been so loud in the momentary clarity that followed. I knew in reality that in my state I hadn’t made it too far away from all that demon sign, not far enough to be safe, and that I was still in very real danger. I scrambled for the discarded lipstick and forced myself to move from window to window, hastily scrawling wards on the fractured glass with a shaking hand. My trembling was so violent I couldn't even fix my sagging pants as I tried to make sure the sigils were passable, before falling back to the carpet with a desperate gasp, sobbing in terror.
I didn’t have much to ward off an actual Alpha aside from the flimsy lock on the trailer door, just that and my revolver. A revolver that only had three more rounds.
There was no time to dwell on it because my biology was screaming at me, my brain blanking to a weird state of terrified need that drove out all other thoughts. My hands tore at my clothing even as the cramps started rolling through me again, slick and sweat drenching the fabric making it hard to remove in my fevered state. The struggle was causing more whimpers and moans to escape my lips, even as I desperately tried to choke them back, knowing just how unsafe I was.
*
The light changed and shifted as time passed, moments dragging on for hours and hours passing in a blink. I couldn’t tell if it had been a day or a week. My heat fever raged and my body shook, and nothing seemed to satisfy the need that burned through me. It was to the point where it was nothing but pain, every shift of my thighs sending shocks of agony through my abused sex. Every muscle in my body shook to the point where I had almost no control over my limbs, my teeth chattering together as I lay on the floor. My tongue was thick in my mouth from the all-encompassing thirst that seemed to be an accompanying undercurrent to every sensation, and every small movement made my head swim.
From every window faces leered out of the murkiness that was my awareness. Taunts and jeers that I could only half make out assaulted my ears along with laughter that seemed to echo unnaturally, just like that terrible night in the woods when my parents died. It was like I was stuck in my nightmare, terror gripped me as sulfurous smells overpowered the smells in the trailer and made my stomach roll and heave violently. The whole world was rocking and clamoring like an army was outside of the trailer trying to shake it apart.
Or maybe that was just the pounding of my heart and the shaking of my body.
It seemed real, although with my fever the last bit of my logic knew that I could very well be hallucinating. I couldn't tell what was real or not anymore which was terrifying. In the back of my mind, I knew I was in a whole different kind of trouble if I was bad enough that I was hallucinating both sensations, smell and sound. The part of me that was still rational wanted to break down into hysterical giggles, knowing I was screwed, and that something was very wrong. This was not something I was going to be able to help myself with anymore.
This was it, this is where I died.
My hand itched for the gun as it lay inches from my fingertips, knowing I only had those precious three rounds left. I was tempted, and not for the first time, to turn it on myself; just to make it all stop; the fever, need, voices, taunts, jeers, and that horrible smell that kept making my stomach roll. I could go out on my own terms, and there was no denying that appeal. My mother had always told me that I had enthusiasm for life, but at that moment all I longed for was peace, with every fiber of my being.
Something cold suddenly touched my forehead, and I opened bleary eyes with a start to see a figure crouched over me. It took me a moment to focus, realizing that a new smell was overpowering the sulfurous smell that permeated everything. It smelled like home and safety… like Alpha… it smelled like…
“Mom?” My voice was weak and breathy, barely even a whisper of sound.
She smiled down at me, her eyes, the same grey I had inherited, heartbroken and full of tears.
“Oh my baby, minha doce filha."
I tried to lift my hand, to touch her again.
“Mom, it hurts.” I whimpered, even as the sounds that had been all around me started to fade into a low hum in the background.
Her hands, hands which had always been so warm, were freezing as she caressed my face. They felt like a blessing on my fever heated skin. “I know baby,” she said, and her voice sounded like she was crying. I tried to bring her face into sharper focus.
“Please make it stop,” I begged, trying to reach up for her.
“Oh love, it will soon, I promise,” her voice was soft.
The smell in the trailer changing slightly again, no longer smelling like my mother, although it was still comforting. There were other sounds now; sharp sounds, new voices that were different from before, but still distant and not nearly as important as the figure above me. Her face turned away from me and her hands left me, and I whimpered from the loss, trying to reach for her.
“I don’t have much time,” She almost sounded like she was speaking to me underwater, her words almost hard to discern from the pounding in my ears and the throbbing in my head as I tried to push myself up after her, needing her comfort.
Weeping, I cried out for her, “Mama!”
She stood, pulling further away from me. “He will keep you safe from them, Kenzie, por favor seja feliz." Her voice was as soft as a whisper, and when I blinked, she was gone.
I fell back to the disgusting carpet with tears I didn’t know I had the energy for leaking out of my eyes, scarcely aware of the silence that had settled.
And then the door rattled.
**oOo**
At first, I hadn’t been aware that it was a scent I was following, not until the scene had come into view.
From the passenger seat of Baby, Chuck shrank back with a small noise of dismay, swallowing nervously at the scenario that was before us.
It looked like something from an old zombie movie; a random airstream in the road, the sky grey, the land around shriveled and dry, a depressing rain starting to fall. The horde slamming itself against the side of the trailer completed the scene.
Only these weren’t Zombies, these were black-eyed assholes who had taken over a biker gang or something. They were yelling and jeering as they rocked the thing as if they meant to knock it over, which would make sense considering the creature that was pumping the air full of pheromones was probably inside.
“Stay here,” I ordered, my voice a low growl even for me as I put the Impala into park and opened the driver side door. Without pausing I was moving to the trunk to arm myself, keeping an ear on the commotion that surrounded the dilapidated airstream.
They were so lost in the overwhelming scent of heat, a heat that was so thick in the air I could taste it on my tongue, my presence was still completely unknown to them.
Clenching my jaw I tried to control my baser instincts that wanted to take that scent and bask in it, wanted nothing more than to roll in it, savor it in my mouth as I explored the creature it belonged to. The rest of my instincts were screaming at me to murder every last one of the horde of figures that surrounded the trailer. It was housing the owner of the smell that had been luring me to them, apparently since I had stepped out of the bunker. Now the Demons had to die because they were threatening the creature that was supposed to be mine.
Cursing under my breath, I tried to reign my Alpha in.
Whoever the Omega was, they smelled like every good thing I could think of. My mouth was watering as if I abruptly had a bacon cheeseburger, with extra onions and a cherry pie, just sitting in front of me, served on a pair of gigantic pillowy tits.
Fuck, an Omega. It was like finding a unicorn.
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw so hard I briefly wondered if I was going to break a tooth, trying to clear my head even as my cock throbbed in my jeans, reacting to biology I had no control over. No matter what my Alpha instincts were telling me though, the Omega in the trailer needed help, and there was no way I was going to leave them to the horde of Demons that was currently congregating outside.
Especially since the Demons were trying to shake the trailer apart around them, and obviously had no intention of giving up their prey. Either the Demons were simply toying with the Omega, enjoying their terror, or for some reason, they couldn't actually get into the airstream.
It almost felt like I was taking my time as I loaded myself up with a combat shotgun loaded with rock salt, bottle bombs full of holy water and steaks carved from palo santo wood. I confirmed that the demon slaying knife was sheathed in my belt before I shut the trunk, and turned my gaze back to the writhing mass. The group still hadn’t even noticed me, although I was positive that my pheromones were almost at a rutting level, and I felt my lip curl in a snarl as the trunk latched shut. There was going to be an unhealthy level of pleasure on my end watching the bastards burn, and I was looking forward to the satisfaction of the fight more than I should have.
I was surprised when Chuck came to stand beside me as I moved around the Impala, a familiar book under one arm and bullhorn in his hand. His other hand was outstretched for one of the bottle bombs, determination on his narrow bearded face. I raised an eyebrow and then twisted my lips in what I hoped was more of a grin than a snarl, pleased to see the Beta showing some spine in this situation, and I honestly appreciated the backup. There were twenty of them, many of the demons possessing Alphas from what looked to be a pack, and I was planning on taking them all on single-handed… there was a chance the pheromones in the air were causing me to not quite think straight.
We cocked our arms back and I let Chuck give me a nod to let me know he was ready, and then we lobbed the holy water grenades straight into the writhing mass of bodies rocking the trailer.
My grin was wolfish when the glass exploded and splashed against the horde of demons, and before they had a chance to react I moved forward, pumping the rock salt rounds into the seething, hissing, morass. With a roar I caused some of the lesser of the group to physically flinch, surprised by the sudden attack, and panic ensued as the possessed tried to find an escape route.
I ran out of rounds before I closed the distance, and used the stock of the shotgun to knock the first of them back before I discarded the weapon. Wooden steaks then met flesh as I went about ripping them away from the cowering Omega's trailer door, putting them down with a vengeance. Thick black smoke poured into the sky as others turned to flee. Against the disbelieving roar of the possessed Alphas, I drove the holy wood into their chests with a victorious snarl before pulling my knife. Over it all, I could hear Chuck’s voice streaming the Latin incantation of an exorcism that had those able to, fleeing.
One of the demons was standing off to the side, fighting against the pull of Chuck’s invocation, was different enough to catch my attention.
He looked more like a lawyer than a biker, a dark scruff of beard on his face, and eyes that were narrowed in a glare as he stood there in a black suit. Physically he was smaller than the big son of a bitch that was looming over his shoulder, but obviously he was the one in control here. His lip was curled in contempt as he decided to try and size me up and he must not have liked what he saw.
In reaction to his masters displeasure, his 'dog' stepped forward. He was large, an Alpha in his prime, and a fucking skinhead, down to the SS tattoo on his neck.
I was going to enjoy breaking the skinheads fucking neck.
“THE BITCH IS OURS!” The hulking crater faced biker exploded in impotent fury, trying to shove his Alpha down my throat. The exorcism was forcing him to stay on the edges of the scene, away from the bodies of his little power pack as they littered the ground around my feet.
The noise that came out of me in response wasn’t even human.
Possessiveness came upon me in a wave of ferociousness, and before I knew it I was charging headlong at the other Alpha with a roar. I was only to be brought up short when the smaller dark man snapped his fingers and zapped himself and his dog out of existence, most likely at the end of his tolerance for an exorcism. I was suddenly filled with directionless rage as the coward ran like a chicken shit, having issued a challenge without the fucking balls to back it up. I turned back on the scene with a snarl, but the only one left standing was Chuck with almost a dozen bodies littering the ground around the trailer. He was looking slightly shaken and wild-eyed as he stood there, slowly lowering the megaphone.
“Are they gone?” The Beta asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
I opened my mouth to answer when I heard it.
A whimper; a weak, terrified voice crying out for her mother.
My cold fucking heart cracked like the god damned liberty bell, even as the Alpha in me responded to the pheromones and the vocalization of the mouthwatering thing in the trailer, that rage turning to something more primal. Something that told me to tear that trailer down and take what I had just fought for and won.
There was something else in her scent though, now that I was closer to her… something that had my instincts panicking, and not in the need to mate. Something was very wrong with what I was smelling. It was something that was bringing my rational thought back to the forefront of my brain and making my bastard back down.
As I moved around the trailer looking for the door I noticed the sigils on the windows and felt that smirk come back for just a moment, impressed. This Omega was smart and resourceful. Lipstick. I’d have to remember that one.
My hand hit the door latch and I gave it a try, just in case I was going to get lucky. No dice, but the silence inside the trailer was suddenly deafening at my rattle of the door. Without waiting further I brought my foot down on the latch, forcing the door to pop open, slowly swinging out to me on overstressed hinges. I grabbed the edge of it and stood in the doorway, nostrils flared as I drew a deep breath of that scent that had my cognitive functions shorting out. My cock was throbbing so hard I wanted to start rutting against my zipper for some release, and I could feel a growl rumbling in my chest. Her heat was so thick in the air I could roll it around on my tongue, and I couldn’t help the low growl in my throat becoming audible as my urge to rut became stronger. Never before had I smelled anything so delicious.
At the same time never had I smelled anything so wrong.
I bit down on my lip and tried to reign in my libido because I was more than my instincts damnit. This was a scared, injured, unprotected, unbound, ripe, fertile, delicious, vulnerable, wet, in heat Omega…
I took a deep breath through my mouth and shook my head. This wasn’t helping.
When I opened my eyes and actually looked into the trailer I felt like the biggest dick in existence for my uncontrollable boner.
Also, I was incredibly grateful that I was quick because two bullets were suddenly buried in the siding that I had just been in front of. For a heartbeat, there was no sound as I stared at the smoking hole that almost took off my head. Then something I heard had me moving back into the trailer on instinct, despite the gun, just in time to see her put the barrel of the revolver to her head.
Fuck, she would rather die than be taken alive by a stranger.
“NO!” I lunged forward even as I watched her finger pull the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Her eyes opened in panic upon realizing the gun hadn’t fired. Before she could do anything else I was on her, my hand closing over the icy metal, hurling it across the trailer with enough force that it echoed. My blood was frozen in my veins even at the thought that she could have just…
Now that I was on top of her I was aware of just how sick she actually was, and just how tiny, as she cringed away from me in complete terror. Her sickly, pale, naked, body was thin to the point of wasting, bones prominently protruding from her thin yellowish skin. There was a feverish glaze over half-lidded eyes that couldn’t seem to focus, peeking out from under limp and matted dark hair that smelled from her sickness even from where I was. She was covered in sweat and slick, but there was a sourness to it that spoke of severe illness. I could feel the heat of a dangerously high fever radiating off her even as her whole body trembled uncontrollably, to the point where I started to worry that she was about to have a seizure. She looked rough enough for one.
God knew how long she had been laying there either, but judging by the stain on the carpet from her sweat and other things I didn’t want to think about, it had to have been days. I’d heard of suppressant sickness before, but I never thought I’d see it. It had always been one of the major dangers in the pre-apocalyptic world, but with the scarcity of Omegas and the lack of available medicine? The thought of someone dying from something like that was slightly inconceivable. Especially not here, not now, not with her.
God, please, not with her.
Her chest was heaving as she lay there, staring, shaking like a leaf. Slowly I reached for her only to have my head suddenly snap to the side courtesy of her fist as it connected solidly with my cheekbone. It didn’t hurt, how could it, weak as she was? It did, however, surprise the hell out of me. She lay beneath me; small, fragile, weak and panting, her body frail and trembling, but her bleary eyes promised murder and a fight.
Slowly I turned my head to look at her, wanting to convey that I meant her no harm. This rescue would have been easier if she was unconscious, and I felt like I was approaching a wounded, wild animal. She had every reason, given the circumstances, to mistrust me, and I was expecting her to lash out again. Only as I turned my head I watched her involuntarily stick out her tongue and viciously bite down on it as her eyes rolled back in her head. Blood started welling to immediately dribble down her chin as she violently seized on the grimy trailer floor, her body finally pushed too far in its fragile state. Panic gripped me as her frail body thrashed violently, too much red in my vision.
I had my hands on her face forcing her jaw open in an instant, my grip probably bruising and painful as I fought with her flailing limbs. My fingers were desperately trying to grab her tongue to try and put some kind of pressure on it, to stem the bleeding and get her teeth dislodged. She flailed weakly against me, teeth biting into my fingers painfully even as I forced her head to the side to keep her from choking on her own blood. I was trying to ignore how it felt as it trailed hot over my hand and down my forearm, the feeling making me nauseous.
“Goddamnit, Castiel I need you! NOW!” I yelled in desperation, my pulse in my ears and my stomach in my throat. I was barely aware of Chuck sticking his head into the trailer to see what the commotion was about, swearing at what he saw. “CAS! PLEASE!”
I felt like I was calling and praying and hoping and willing Cas to appear for an eternity before the angel actually deigned to show. His expression was fairly stoned and vacant as he seemed only partially aware of his surroundings as he appeared, in torn jeans and fucking tie-dye, totally barefoot and reeking of pot. There was no time for his bullshit because even as she weakly struggled against me she was fucking dying.
“Goddamnit Cas, HELP HER,” I demanded of the Angel, who blinked and only then seemed to be aware that he wasn’t in the bunker when my Alpha broke through.
He looked owlishly at the sickly Omega as she struggled weakly in my arms, and a troubled expression flitted across his features. I never wanted to punch him so much in my life.
“Dean, my grace... I’m weak, I cannot fix all of…”
“JUST KEEP HER FROM DYING,” I ordered, every bit of my Alpha in it, which caused the girl in my arms to shudder and sob as the unconscious Omega reacted to my Alpha, her slick blossoming fresh in the air.
Fuck, she smelled like everything I had ever wanted.
Cas snapped his trap shut, finally, and moved to put his fingers on her forehead even as she instinctively tried to curl her thin, shaking body as far away from us as possible. There was nothing to her but instinct and fear, and it was wrecking me in every way.
I looked away with a scowl as he gently placed his fingers against her overly hot skin, trying to stomp out the Alpha in me that wanted to rip his arm off for daring to touch her. She sucked in a shuddering breath through her mouth as suddenly the bleeding ceased, her seizing body going instantly limp. I moved my grip to cradle the back of her head gently and looked back at her face. She was still unconscious, her lashes fluttering against her sunken cheeks, her breath escaping chapped lips with a sigh.
It was like something came over me as I just looked at her for a moment, kinda lost. When Cas stepped back to give me enough room to try and pick her up, to get her out of the disgusting trailer she had been forced to seek refuge in, her eyes fluttered open again. In a blind panic and she weakly struggled against me, trying to pull away even though she lacked the strength to escape a wet paper bag. She was sobbing and whimpering in a manner that was killing me.
I scooped her frail form into my arms, ignoring her weak protests as I clutched her firmly to my chest and stood up from the floor. The sudden movement caused her head to loll listlessly against my arm, her whole body becoming boneless again. Fear for her gripped me for a moment but I calmed when I realized she was breathing and I could feel her heart beating steadily through her skin. She was just passed out, not actually in danger. Even the dangerously sour smell was gone, although she was still saturated with stinking sweat.
I needed to get her home, to safety, where I could help her.
Maybe, if I was lucky, she could help me too, because if nothing else there was one thing I knew.
I needed her.