Chapter Text
Breathe, You Belong With Me
Chapter 1
(Monday 18th September 7.30am in Arizona)
Detective Castiel Novak lay in his bed in The Canyon Way Hotel, watching through heavy lids as sunlight slowly brightened his room. This vacation had been at the insistent nagging of his partner, his partner’s wife, and his captain. And he hated to admit it, but they were right. He felt rested. The knots of stress and lack of downtime dissolved into the rugged beauty of his destination.
He had also enjoyed the sights. The Grand Canyon had been on his bucket list for a long time now. He sighed as his eyes landed on the other pillow in the bed. As content and rested he felt, he also felt quite lonely. Maybe one day, he could come back with someone. Maybe a mate.
He scoffed at himself before stretching. He planned on traveling to the South Rim today, which would take two days with a guide, the last hooray before returning home. He was looking forward to it.
He had just rolled over and planted his feet on the thick carpet, scrunching up his toes when his phone rang. He frowned when he saw his partner's name on the screen.
Knowing his partner would never interrupt the vacation he pushed him on, he answered with, “Benny, what is it?”
“Oh my God cher, I’m so glad you answered. You are never going to believe this. Lucifer fucking Morningstar shot someone at point blank range this morning and get this, there was a witness.”
Castiel’s breath dried and caught in his throat that he could barely utter, “There’s a witness. You’re kidding me, Benny?”
Benny chuckled excitedly, “Nope. And Cassie, not just a witness, he took a video. The fucker finally screwed up. We have him in custody. We’ll get him into arraignment first thing this afternoon. His lawyers are wigging the fuck out.”
Castiel was off the bed and shoving his arms and legs into the nearest pieces of clothing. “Please tell me you have the witness locked down tight, and the video logged?”
Benny snorted, “We do. He’s not happy about it, but he is pretty shaken up at the moment, so he’s not complaining too much. Hey Cher, sorry to cut your holiday short.”
Castiel stopped when he realized he was putting his pants on backwards and laughed, “Are you kidding? This news has done me better than any holiday could. I’ll get the first flight back. I’ll call you and let you know when I’m coming in.”
He hung up with his partner, and Detective Castiel Novak, the grumpiest, orneriest Detective in the precinct, (well, at least that’s what his partner Benny tells him) did an actual happy dance around his hotel room. Fucking Luc “Lucifer” Morningstar finally fucked up.
Half his precinct had been trying to pin him with anything for the last five years, but nothing stuck. He was slippery as an eel. Now, not only did he slip up, but he murdered someone, and there was a witness and video to it. This was huge. It was now Castiel's job to ensure the witness stayed alive to testify.
With a grin on his face and a prayer out into the universe that he wouldn’t fuck this chance up, he called the airline to change his return flight to New York City.
(Monday 18th September 12.04pm New York City)
Dean paced the small room to the mantra of “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He was freaking the fuck out. Not just because of what he witnessed. A woman getting a bullet between her eyes at close range, as Dean was out for his morning run at 5am, was bad enough. The subsequent frantic call to the cops and the statement given to Detective Lafitte were no picnic, either.
No, what had Dean freaking so bad was the fact that he knew the killer. Hell, most of the city knew the killer. Not personally, but the man was as notorious for his philanthropy as he was for his suspected mob connections. This whole thing could also ruin the new life he’d carved out for himself here. A life hard fucking won.
Dean cursed the sleepless night that had him up earlier than usual. Instead of staring at the ceiling for another two hours, he had decided to get his run in early. Well, that worked out fucking fantastic.
Dean jumped when someone came in through the door of the interrogation room. “Woah, Cher, it's just me. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Dean let out a shaky breath. “Man, I need to go home. Or I need a drink. Preferably both. When can I go?”
The detective pierced him with pale blue eyes. Dean couldn’t scent him, so he didn’t know if the man was an Alpha, Beta or Omega, but he had an easy way about him. The detective already knew that Dean was an Omega, because thanks to the run he was on, his blockers had worn off, but the Detective had kindly given him some to put on before bringing him into the precinct.
“Mr. Samson, I thought we discussed this. You need to go into protective custody. My partner, Detective Novak, will be here tomorrow. He is an expert in protecting people, and he will also get you prepped for trial.”
Dean had already been told the procedure, but it was now only sinking in. “So what? I have to leave my life, my friends, to hole up somewhere? This is bullshit. Fuck my life.”
Dean eventually stopped pacing and threw himself into a chair. The detective sat opposite him, steady and patient. “Dean, you know who we’re dealing with, right?”
Dean met his eyes and nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, I do”. He slumped in the chair as he remembered the empty icy stare in Lucifer’s eyes as he pulled the trigger. “So, where do I go from here?”
(Monday 3pm 18th September)
Dean stared up at the nondescript building, feeling not one bit impressed. This two-story building, with peeling white paint and boarded-up windows lined with security bars, was going to be his home away from home for the foreseeable future. The surrounding grounds it sat on was tarmac, covered with weeds and moss and potholes giving the impression that the building and grounds had been abandoned for a long while.
Detective Benny Lafitte snorted at Dean's expression, “Hey cher, relax, and don’t judge a book by its cover, ok?”
With that, the Detective continued driving around the back of the building, which looked no better than the front. The only thing different was a black metal exterior stairway that led to a door on the second floor.
The Detective had explained to him that other officers had been by to inspect the property and were now parked a block away in plain cars to keep watch. The grounds had sensors and security cameras pointed at all access points. But for now, the only escort Dean had was Detective Lafitte.
Side-eyeing the detective, he asked, “So, how does this work? Do we have a code in case we’re found out and I need to run real quick?”
Benny snorted, “Let me guess, you like action movies.”
Dean laughed wearily, “Yippee kay a.”
Benny returned the laugh as Dean continued, “A long time ago, a friend of mine and I had a code word. Our families weren’t the best you know, so if our Dad was on the warpath we texted each other a codeword and we knew to make ourselves scarce.”
Benny filed the slip of the tongue “our Dad” and asked, “What was it?”
“Poughkeepsie.”
At Benny’s questioning look, Dean shook his head. “Inside joke.”
Benny let it go and slapped his shoulder, “I think a codeword is an excellent idea but Dean, right now, the quicker you are inside, the better I will feel.”
They both got out of the car, with Benny grabbing the two duffel bags that Dean had packed at his apartment with clothes, toiletries including his blockers, a few loved books and not much else. The Detective had taken his phone and laptop after he called Charlie, his best friend and business partner and told her he wouldn’t be in for the foreseeable future and that Detective Lafitte would be around to explain why. Charlie had been shocked into silence, but maybe it was the tone he used talking to her that kept her questions to a minimum.
He grumbled when Benny took his phone but was assured he would be provided devices that were safe once his partner got there and went through everything with him.
In the meantime, he followed the Detective who stood to the side to let him climb the stairs in front of him. When they got to the top, Benny opened the door and shuffled Dean inside, who flinched at the nearness of him.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to crowd you.”
Dean considered himself an excellent judge of character, so although he couldn’t scent him, he scanned the detective's face and saw that there was no cause for concern.
“No harm done,” Dean replied, as he looked around.
They were standing in an anteroom, no bigger than 16ft x 16ft, with painted white walls and industrial gray carpet. The only other features were an overhead light and a black panel box to the right of the gun metal security door. The Detective stepped up to the panel and held a card in front of it. Without even so much as a beep, the door opened.
“Welcome to Bunker 3,” Benny said as he entered the room beyond and Dean got his first look at his new home, for the foreseeable future anyway.
His first thought was, “It's not bad.”
The room was open plan. To the left was a galley kitchen, white cupboards, with faux wood laminate countertops, a stovetop and usual appliances, with an island and four high stools to eat at.
To the right was a lounge area with a three-seater couch, two armchairs, one coffee table, one flat-screen TV, and a bookcase laden down with books of every genre, board games and numerous decks of cards. On closer inspection, beside the TV was a games console, with stacks of DVD games behind the TV.
To the left of the lounge area was a treadmill with various weights on the floor beside it.
When he looked over at the Detective, Benny shrugged, “Not gonna lie brother. Witness protection can be boring as shit. Anything to kill the boredom helps.”
Dean chuckled under his breath. He could see himself liking Benny. He seemed like a straight shooter.
“C’mon, I’ll show you your room.” Benny grabbed one of Dean's bags and opened one of the three doors on the back-end wall.
The room was square with off-white walls. A queen-sized bed sat center against the back wall, one bedside locker on the right side, one built-in wardrobe on the left and a reading lamp attached to the wall behind the bed. There was no window. It was clean and clinical, but hopefully, he wouldn’t be here for long.
Benny placed his duffel on the bed. “I’ll leave you to unpack. The door next door is the bathroom. And the door beyond that is where my partner will sleep. You’ll have to share the bathroom. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
Dean side-eyed him. “Why would it be a problem?”
“My partner is an Alpha.”
Dean turned fully and pierced the Detective with a steely gaze. “Does your partner have a problem with secondary genders? Because if he does, then we both have a problem.”
Benny held his hands up in appeasement. “Woah, woah, cher. No. Dean, that's not what I meant. I just mean, I know times are different now, but some people, Omegas,” pointing at Dean “are still not comfortable around Alphas. I was just checking. For the record, Detective Novak is not a regular Alpha. Sometimes I think he forgets he’s even one. He’s as far from an Alpha knot head as you can get. I just want you to feel safe from those outside forces who might hurt you and those assigned to protect you, that's all. If it makes you feel better to know, I’m a Beta, happily married, with a baby on the way.”
Dean’s shoulders relaxed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to jump down your throat, Detective. Being on guard is an old habit.”
“I understand. And it's Benny. We’re going to be spending some time together. Might as well get comfortable.”
Dean smiled and nodded his head in agreement.
Benny thumbed over his shoulder, “I’m going to get the groceries from the car. It's better to cook than to get takeout. The less traffic coming and going, the better. Keep up the appearance of an abandoned building, you know. Anything you won’t eat?”
“Nah, I’ll try anything once.”
“Good to know. My wife says I have interesting cooking skills.”
Benny laughed as Dean’s face dropped and he was still chuckling as he went back to the car.
(Tuesday 19th September 6.05am)
After a fitful night's sleep, spent more tossing and turning than sleeping, the events of yesterday morning too fresh in his mind, the sun was barely up when Dean allowed the water to beat down on him to try to revive his tired bones. He cursed when he realized he hadn’t brought his clothes with him to change into. Thank fuck Benny was a Beta. He wouldn’t be making that rookie mistake when he had an Alpha watching over him.
Cool dude or not.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he pressed an ear against the door and heard the indistinct murmur of Benny’s voice. From the lack of response, he assumed he was talking on the phone. His assumption was confirmed when he exited the bathroom to find Benny sitting on the couch, phone in the crook of his neck, as he typed on a laptop resting on the coffee table. He paused to give Dean a two-fingered salute before returning to his phone call.
Emerging from his bedroom dressed, with extra blockers applied, he made a beeline for the galley and his first-morning fix of coffee. He took his coffee over to one of the windows, allowing the drone of Benny’s voice to lull him.
He was surprised last night when he realized the windows which looked boarded up from the outside were actually tinted reflective bulletproof glass. Benny explained it was so they didn’t have to rely solely on surveillance cameras to check the perimeter. Dean watched the sun rising over the horizon in a sepia haze.
“Morning Dean.”
Dean startled slightly, sloshing his coffee but not spilling any and only now realizing that Benny’s phone conversation was over.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
Dean shrugged. “It's fine. I was just…”
Dean’s voice trailed off, and Benny nodded in understanding. “That was my partner, Castiel. He’s on the way. He stopped off at the precinct to pick up some additional info that was acquired since yesterday. He should be here in half an hour.”
“Does that mean you’ll be leaving?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be coming and going, relaying any information that you guys will need to know. I think you will like Cassie. He’s a bit gruff, a bit on the quiet side, but brilliant at his job. He’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
Dean grimaced a smile as he was reminded of the reality of his situation. “Well, in that case, let me make you breakfast. I would hate for all this protection to keep me safe, to be for naught, if I die at the hands of your cooking.”
Benny snorted a laugh. “Hey, I didn’t kill you last night, did I?”
“A miracle,” Dean deadpanned, before turning to the galley and gathering the ingredients for an omelet as the detective laughed.
Despite the direness of his situation, Dean thought he might have made a new friend in Benny. Charlie would be so proud of him.
(Tuesday 19th September 7.30am)
“I am never cooking for you again.”
Benny looked over at Dean, fork still in his mouth, where he had just deposited a fluffy bite of omelet. Taking the fork out of his mouth, he mumbled, “Wha?”
“Sex noises, Benny. You are making sex noises. I don’t need this trauma on top of everything else.”
Benny grinned, “What can I say, cher? Best omelet I’ve ever tasted, including my wife’s, but I’ll deny it if you ever tell her,” pointing the fork menacingly at Dean.
Benny’s phone started to ring before Dean could retort, but he dinged his fork against Benny’s before resuming his breakfast.
Benny answered his phone, “Hey Cassie. That's great. You’re just in time. Dean made breakfast, and he made enough for you. His eggs are even better than Andrea’s.”
Dean could hear a squawk over the phone that had Benny chuckling, “I know, I know. I never thought I’d be spouting such sacrilegious words either, but here we are. I’ll meet you at the door.”
Benny hung up and crossed to the front window just in time to see his partner’s banged up Lincoln driving into the lot and around to the back.
Benny’s face was more professional when he turned back to Dean. “Stay here. I’ll meet him at the door.”
Dean nodded and went to plate some breakfast for his new bodyguard. Dean was not worried about him being an Alpha. He was tall for an Omega and always wore blockers, so he’d been mistaken for an Alpha or a Beta on more than one occasion.
The only time his Omega side really affected his life was when his heat happened. And Dean had some pretty good toys to help with that. He was not due for heat for another three months, so there was that, at least.
Dean had his back to the room as he placed the plated breakfast into the oven to keep warm when the deep rumble of a low-pitched voice sent pinpricks of sensation across his shoulder blades. Dean shrugged his shoulders to relieve the sensation, but it only intensified.
And then it hit him. The scent of peat and the first lit fires of fall, Dean’s favorite season, wood-smoke and earthy, entwined with the scent of old books and it filled him with longing and home and mate and …
A growl had him spinning on his heel before he was pinned to the counter by 6ft of Alpha. Miraculously, the Alpha was not touching him, his hands white-knuckling the countertop on either side of Dean, and his nose hovering over Dean’s scent gland on his neck, which Dean had unconsciously bared to him in submission.
“Omega, mine,” the voice growled in his ear.
Dean groaned as the scent and the longing for the Alpha’s touch, their bite, their everything, nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted to drop to the floor and present for the Alpha for the first time in his thirty-two years and somewhere inside he was pissed and confused at this, but the mantra of mateminemateminematemine overrode everything else.
Dean, overwhelmed with hormones and helpless against the tide, still had one small part of his brain asking what the hell was going on.
But for now, it was pushed back, not important in the face of finding his mate. He reached up to cup his Alpha’s face, guiding him closer to his scent gland. The response was immediate. The Alpha let go of the counter and wrapped his arms around his waist, crushing his Omega impossibly close and Dean’s inner Omega swooned, but at the same time, something was off. Where he expected softness, he felt a broad chest.
Ignoring that for now, he wrapped his arms around his Alpha’s neck and nuzzled into the scent gland of his mate and if he died right now, he knew he would die happy and content in his Alpha’s arms and with his scent filling his nose. The feel of stubble against his cheek was not enough to pull him from his daze.
Suddenly, the Alpha released him, turning to growl at something, staying in front of Dean, protecting him from what, Dean didn’t know.
“CASSIE, CASTIEL, DEAN, fuck, c’mon guys, come back to me.”
Dean’s head cleared enough to realize it was Benny’s voice he heard. The detective. Who had looked after him for forty-eight hours now.
“Benny,” Dean croaked.
“Yes, Dean, are you with me, man?” To which there was another round of snarling growls from the Alpha crouching in front of him, still protecting him.
Dean’s head was still foggy, and he was mortified to find his boxers wet with slick, the scent of it heavy in the air around them. He shook his head to clear it as he reached out and laid a gentle hand on the spine of who he was now sure was Detective Castiel Novak and his True Mate, and if that wasn’t a mind fuck, he didn’t know what was.
Dean managed to croak out, “Castiel. Look at him. That's your partner, Benny, remember? He protected me until you got here. Cas, please look at him.”
The growls lessened as Dean comforted his Alpha in a low voice, still rubbing his spine, until they ceased and the man straightened up.
“Fuck Cassie, there you are,” Benny exclaimed, “That was … are you ok?”
Castiel reached up to scrub his face, “Benny, fuck. I am so sorry. I wasn’t expecting … I don’t know … fuck … I didn’t expect …”
“Me,” Dean whispered.
Dean watched as the man in front of him, his Alpha, turned to face him. Despite how close they had been, this was Dean’s first look at his face. HIS face.
His dark hair was tousled from their frantic embrace, piercing blue eyes emerging from the red veil receding over his irises, tanned flushed cheeks and pink bitten lips made up an utterly beautiful face.
As the two men stared at each other, both of them still trying to get their breathing under control, Benny breathed a sigh of relief, “Ok, of all the scenarios I thought would happen with this protection detail, this did not even make the top one hundred. You’re True Mates. True fucking mates. Congrats guys.”
Benny’s speech shook Dean out of his stupor better than a cold shower. “This can’t be.”
Dean edged away from the Detective, who looked like he had something to say about Dean trying to get away.
As Castiel moved to follow him, Dean raised a shaky hand. “No. Stay there…no, no, no.”
“Dean, it's alright,” Benny said soothingly as Dean managed to skirt around the island and back away towards the lounge, being careful enough not to spook the Alpha into chasing him.
Dean and Castiel were still eye locked despite the distance and Benny was still trying to calm things down, “Dean, I know this is a lot on top of everything else, so how about everyone takes a deep breath and we can sit down and talk about this like adults?”
Dean shook his head. “There's nothing to talk about. I don’t know what kind of fucked up biology is going on here, but this is wrong. I want another bodyguard.”
The response from Detective Novak was instantaneous. Immediately, the air filled with the stink of rejection and the Alpha looked devastated. Dean’s first instinct was to run to him, to give him comfort and love and it took everything in Dean’s willpower not to go to him and take the words back, but he couldn’t because this was all kinds of fucked up.
For the first time, there was steel in Benny's voice. “Shit, Dean, what the hell! Look, I know this is not the ideal timing, but it’s not Castiel’s fault.”
Dean sliced his hand through the air. “For fuck’s sake, Benny. It's got nothing to do with timing alright or any other bullshit. I just think one of us has some fucked up biology going on. Something has got screwed. I can’t be his mate. I can’t be.”
“True Mates, Dean, and I hate to break it to you, but even this Beta nose can smell it. Castiel is your True Mate.”
“BUT HE FUCKING CAN’T BE!” Dean all but screams across the room. Dean was backing up in his agitation which provoked Castiel to follow, instincts telling him to follow, to protect, to nurture, to mate.
Finally, it was Castiel who mustered enough effort to ask, his Alpha voice needed to break through the rejection weighing heavily on his chest, “Why Dean? Why do you think you’re not my mate? All indications would suggest otherwise,” pointing back to where Castiel had pinned him.
Dean was flushed and shaking and sweating, his body responding to the bass of Castiel’s voice, which pissed him off so much so, that he screamed, “BECAUSE I’M NOT FUCKING GAY!”
In the stunned silence that followed that statement, he turned, ran into his bedroom, and slammed the door.