Chapter Text
WINTER
The Ontario wilderness was the most vibrant, the most beautiful, during the winter months. No matter who in the clan you happened to ask you would get the same answer. Indeed, winter was cruel, winter was grueling, life was harder during those times, but it was also a time of celebration, a holy time where darkness prevailed and the moon had more time in the sky. The eye of the forest was asleep, and the moon was out for blessing. It was a time of rebirth, a time of tribulation, for the clan.
Sam had just finished his first heat, much to Dean’s disappointment, and the whole thing had been an outright mess. He’d spent the week inside, crawling around, crying, and fucking, unsatisfied and angry. Dean had been more than happy to help as much as he could but no amount of sex was good enough.
Dean’s back had healed, though the scarring was horrific, hurting Sam’s eyes whenever he looked upon it. There had been no infection, but the skin would always be disfigured, showing the healed slash marks, the faint lines of ripping and tearing. Dean, on the other hand, didn’t mind it, saying the scars earned him more respect from the people and were a testament to his love for Sam.
They had moved out of their parents house six weeks ago, into a hidden cabin a ways back in the woods. It was beautiful, made of stones from the river and surrounding lakes, with a wide open window, lace curtains, a large self sustaining garden, a fully functioning kitchen, living-room, bathroom, and bedroom, with decorations handmade from the surrounding woods. It was Sam’s happy place.
The first snow of the season had come the week before, frosting the woods in white fluff, dampening the natural sounds. Now, life was quieter, softer, and colder. Sam had gotten down the bear skin blankets and Dean had spent the better part of one day cutting down a tree for kindling.
That morning, Sam woke up to the smell of ground coffee and the sound of sizzling meat. He rolled over to find the bed cold beside him, Dean was gone.
Sam slips from the bed, pulling the blanket with him to cover his naked body.
Slowly, he walks into the kitchen to find Dean, already dressed, and cooking breakfast. Sam walks up behind the elder man, wrapping arms around him, pressing soft kisses to the scarring on his back.
Dean shudders. “Good morning.”
“What’s cooking, good looking?” Sam asks, taking a seat at the table.
“Well, we have fried eggs and deer meat.” Dean says.
Sam’s stomach rumbles. “Leave my yokes gooey.”
“Already on it.” Dean says. He puts a plate loaded down with three eggs and a large portion of deer meat before Sam.
“Oh, wonderful. What prompted this?” Sam asks.
“It snowed again.” Dean says. “The first hunt of the season needs to be soon.”
The first winter hunt was a celebrated occasion involving the whole clan. Sam had never been because only the mated could attend, while the unmated stayed home preparing to process and store the fresh meat.
Sam watches Dean sit down and take a bite of deer meat. “When did you know?”
“Know what?” Dean asks.
“When did you decide to mate with me?” Sam asks. Over the last few months, he’d asked multiple questions like this one, a deep curiosity boiling in him over the workings of his lover’s mind. Did Dean experience turmoil over his decision to take his own brother as a mate for life?
“There was a time…” Dean uncomfortably starts. “When I told myself I wouldn’t, that I’d mate with someone else. For a while, I made my peace with it. I convinced myself I could be happy, that seeing you mated to another man wouldn’t bother me if I had my own mate… but… then I heard how the others spoke of you… the other alphas.” Dean's expression grew dark. “They saw you as a conquest, a means to power, none of them wanted you for you, none of them had the respect you deserved, not a single one recognized your position in the pack. So… I couldn’t. The day you ran, I told myself over and over again… I’d kill anyone that got to you before me and I did.”
“You don’t think you would have felt differently after mating with someone else?” Sam asks. “That you’d have forgotten about me?”
Dean scoffs. “That’s the point. It was physically impossible for me to choose anyone else.”
Sam smiles. “And now we’re here.”
Dean returns his smile. “We’re here.”
***
Another week passes and the first hunt of winter comes with a third snow. Outside, the pine trees were heavy with snow, glistening icicles formed around the roof of the cabin and on the lower hanging branches of the trees. The forest had a softness to it now, a sleeping quality.
Sam sat out on the porch, cup of tea in hand, wrapped up warmly, as he watched Dean chop more wood. Dean, on the other hand, was shirtless with only a thick pair of pants to dull the cold. Mary sat next to Sam, having come to visit, a cup of tea in her hands as well.
“I offered to help him.” Sam says.
“Hmm. He’s just like John.” Mary says. “How has he been? Since taking the blacksnake?”
“Fine. He healed well enough.” Sam says, tone bitter. Ever since Dean’s punishment, Sam had been colder to their parents, more reserved, like a wall was between them now. Dean, well he’d already let the whole thing go, but Sam hadn’t, he never would. He still had nightmares about that whip tearing through the flesh of Dean’s back, about the blood and the pain.
“You hate your father?” Mary asks.
“If I do?” Sam asks.
“Good. You’re loyal to your mate, nothing else is expected of you.” Mary says. “I know he doesn’t show it, but your father feels immense guilt over how the tribunal played out. He didn’t want to break your hand or give Dean the blacksnake… but as a leader… he had no choice.”
“First, you called him a fool and now you excuse him. Which is it?” Sam asks.
“I’m not excusing him and I never said he wasn’t a fool. But, like us all, he must think of the clan first.” Mary says.
“And I think of Dean first.” Sam says. He sips his tea.
Dean stops chopping the wood and turns to face the porch, ax thrown over his shoulder. “Did you two know that omegas bicker like old women? It’s scientifically proven to be true.”
Mary rolls her eyes.
“No one wants your opinion, Dean!” Sam says, but he’s smiling.
“Let it go, Sam! Please! Taking the blacksnake was worth it, we all know it, because the clan holds me in high regard now, they don’t care about my choice of mate, not now when they see my morals.” Dean says.
“Never.” Sam sniffs. “You almost died.”
“But I didn’t.” Dean says. He goes back to chopping.
“See, all alphas are fools.” Mary said. “Not a single brain cell between them.”
“I know.” Sam says.
“I can hear you!” Dean chuckles.
“Is it true that John asked Dean to lead the hunt?” Sam asks.
Mary nods. “Indeed.”
“And does that mean I’ll lead the spiritual rites of the hunt, then?” Sam asks.
“I was going to ask you…are you ready?” Mary asks.
Sam shrugs. “I was brought up in the ways of the moon and the forest, why not?”
“It will go well, my dear.” Mary says. “During winter, the eye of the forest sleeps… but it does not die. I’ve had time to think about it and I believe the moon and the eye wanted Dean to mate with you… to strengthen the pack, to unite us against unseen threats.”
“We all have our coping mechanisms.” Sam says. He watches Dean, eyes tracing the way he moved, the sweat glistening on his skin from the hard work. It made him hungry.
“You don’t believe me?” Mary asks.
“Should I?” Sam asks, turning toward her. “Dean chose me because he loves me, the forest had nothing to do with it.”
“See it your way, my dear. Maybe you are a fool too.” Mary says. She sits her tea cup down and stands. “I should go. I’ll see you this evening.” As she leaves she pauses to kiss Dean’s temple, before glancing back at Sam. “you’re angry at me for putting my mate first, my son, when you do the same.”
Sam shakes his head, refusing to watch his mother walk away. Dean joins Sam on the porch, taking the seat beside him. “You can’t be angry at her too, Sammy, she had nothing to do with it.”
“I know.” Sam sighs.
“You love me, I know you do, but let it go.” Dean says, reaching out to touch Sam’s cheek.
“I will, in my own time.” Sam says.
“You remain angry for what happened, even after all this time?” Dean asks. “Why? It was my choice, my love, you place the blame on others… for what?”
“Because… I can’t get mad at you… I love you and you could have died.” Sam’s lip trembled. “You did it because you couldn’t see me hurt… I know that… but… breaking my hand wouldn’t have killed me… you know that. You risked your life, Dean, if you had died of an infection… What about me? Leave me to suffer? That’s cruel… you know it.” A tear leaks from Sam’s eye. “Watching you bleed and hurt like that… the ghost of it will never leave me.”
Dean reaches out, cupping Sam’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Sammy, I know… there was no winning that day, you were hurt regardless. I understand how you feel and why you’re still angry… but I’m here, I didn’t even come close to dying.” He grabs Sam’s hand and presses it to his chest. “Feel me, I’m here, I’m real. Nothing bad will happen, Sammy.”
“But you could have.” Sam whispers. “That’s what haunts me.”
“We have a few hours before the hunt, my love, lay with me?” Dean asks.
They make their way into the bedroom, and lay with Sam’s head on Dean’s chest. For a while, Sam feels content, he feels whole. But that feeling was still in his chest, the terror at the thought, the knowledge, that he could have lost Dean.
“I love you, Dean.” Sam whispers. He kisses the man’s chest.
Dean sucks in a sharp breath. “I love you too.”
Sam’s fingers trail down, playing with the band of Dean’s pants.
“Sammy?” Dean asked.
Sam helps Dean out of his pants.
***
Afterward, the two lay there, arms around each other, both of them sore and exhausted. Dean holds Sam close, extremely close, arms tight, Sam’s back pressed against his chest. The younger man could feel Dean breath, it was hot on the back of his neck. A memory played in Sam’s head, it was distant, years ago, long before Dean was his mate. In fact, it was something Sam hadn’t thought about for a long time, not until Mary mentioned it so many months ago.
True, Sam had never suspected Dean wanted him as a mate, had never considered it a possibility, but, the more he thought of this specific memory, the more he realized he truly was stupid. It had happened almost a year in a half ago, the last time Sam got the flu.
***
A YEAR AND A HALF AGO.
Sam was curled up in bed, shuddering, a lead ball weighing down his stomach, he felt cold and hot at the same time. His mother had brought him some beef soup and milk of the poppy. Dean, his brother, was gone with their father hunting.
Back then, well, he didn’t think about Dean the same way. He saw the guy as an elder brother, an annoying yet endearing fixture in his life. He didn’t notice the looks and glances, the longing, how Dean acted around him, protective, curious. In fact, Sam was so blind to it, he had even asked Dean when he planned to find a mate and give up the beta women. Dean had laughed at him and said ‘one day, Sammy, I’m waiting for my moment.’ Sam had written the reply off as Dean being Dean, a free spirit.
Sam sat up, grabbing the puke bucket, and hurled into it. How was there anything left to vomit?
At that moment, the door opened, and Dean entered. He was still dressed for the hunt in old jeans, a long sleeved tee shirt, hair ruffled from the wind.
“Hey, Sammy.” He said, taking a seat on the bed.
Sam groaned and wiped his mouth. “Yeah?”
“Mom said you’re sick.” Dean says. “Can I do anything?”
“No.” Sam says miserably. He jerks the bucket back to his face and vomits even harder. Dean moves closer, rubbing Sam’s back.
“I shouldn’t have gone, why didn’t you say anything?” Dean asks. A soft hair touched Sam’s hair, hardly noticed by Sam himself.
Sam lays back in the bed. “Did you get anything?”
“A couple deer.” Dean says.
“Are you going to sit with me?” Sam asks.
“Of course, little brother, I won’t leave your side.” Dean says.
“You will, someday.” Sam smiles, voice weak. “Whenever you mate yourself off.”
“I think that’s still a while off, Sammy.” Dean says.
“Why? Who are you saving yourself for?” Sam asks. At the time he had found the whole thing comical, he hadn’t noticed the pain flashing in Dean’s eyes, or how his shoulders tensed. How had he never noticed? Dean had worn his longing like a badge. “Have you fallen in love with a beta? Huh?” Sam had laughed. “That’s so Dean of you.”
Dean chuckles, but there’s pain in it. Obvious pain, Sam hadn’t thought about it then. “No.” He looked Sammy in the eye. “I don’t care about the betas, Sammy.”
“Who is she?” Sam asked. “Do I know her?”
“You might.” Dean sighed.
“Oh my god, you’re waiting for her?” Sam tried to sit up, but Dean pushed him back down.
“And if I am waiting for someone… How does that make you feel?” Dean had asked.
“Well, you gotta tell me who she is, come on, Dean!” Sam had said. “You really must like her to wait so long, huh? Let me guess, she has big boobs?” How had he not noticed Dean’s flinch at the words, the way he glanced at Sam.
“I’m not going to tell you, Sammy. But you’ll know, the minute…” He clears his throat. “The minute the person I have in mind presents themselves, when they participate in the mating run… I will have them… Sammy. Nothing will stop me.”
Sam whistles. “Wow. So you have it planned then, huh?”
Dean scoots closer to him, taking the edge of the cover to brush the sweat from Sam’s forehead. There was an infinite softness about him, Sam could remember it, and a sadness too, like he had a burden, like being near Sammy but unable to love him the way he wanted was pure pain. Sam hadn’t noticed it then.
“You know me, Sammy, I’m always scheming.” Dean says.
“She’s a lucky girl.” Sam says.
“Yeah, she sure is.” Dean agreed.
***
Back in the present, Sam lays there, clutched close to Dean. How had he never noticed? It was so obvious to him now, so easy to see.
“I can see that you loved me for a while.” Sam says. “My memory of the past… I can see it. But I didn’t see it then.”
“I tried to hide it.” Dean replies, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s neck.
“I was blind.” Sam says.
“And?” Dean asked.
“During the hunt this evening… Dean… Mom asked me to lead the spiritual rites.” Sam says.
“An honor.” Dean whispers.
“When did they start preparing us to take their places? I didn’t notice that either.” Sam says.
“I don’t know, my love. But, they will die… and when they do… the mantle passes to us. I’ll be the High Alpha.” Dean says.
“You’ll be the center of the clan.” Sam says.
“So what?” Dean asks.
“Even more danger.” Sam says. “What if something else happens? What then?”
“We face it together.” Dean promises, pressing one last kiss to Sam’s neck.
Sam snuggled closer to Dean, finding comfort in him… like he always had.