Living In The Past (Gabriel)

Teaser: Trapped in The Present

Dean tried to stay silent as he felt his mattress dip from his father's weight, hearing his slow breathing, and smelling the awful stench of alcohol mixed with aroused alpha.

Dean tried to stay silent as he felt a hand creep up his thigh. He was close to a heat and his blockers were barely working. It must have been what attracted his father to his bed.

Dean tried even harder to stay silent as John moved the blanket and slipped a hand up the leg of Dean's boxers.

Dean was fourteen, and stared at himself in the mirror. He'd been a late bloomer. He hadn't popped a knot like he was supposed to, yet. It'd show up, eventually, though.

At least, he'd thought that until he woke up, that morning, slick pouring out of his ass. He'd quickly showered and ignored his brother, Sammy's concerned asks of "De, are you okay?" No he wasn't.

He'd heard how his father spoke about Omegas. He either was objectifying them or talking about how bad they were. His father would hate him for being an omega...

Dean was twelve and was nursing a bruise. He hadn't meant to set his Dad off, but he had just wanted to know why he couldn't go with his friends to see the movie.

Oh well. It didn't matter. He got to see the movie, now. And, he was gonna take Sammy, with him. His little brother hadn't seen a movie in a while. Not one in a movie theater, yet.

Dean was seventeen, and was trying not to cry as he showered, desperately trying to wash off the smell of alpha. Three of them had cornered him in a diner.

Luckily, he knew the owner and they'd come to his aid. He was terrified what would have happened, had the owner been a few minutes later...

Dean was fourteen, and was trying not to flinch as his father exploded over his son being an omega. He kept ranting about how he'd have to keep him inside and the expense of heat blockers and scent blockers.

Apparently, he was switching to homeschooling, immediately...

Dean was sixteen, staring down the barrel of his dad's gun. He was willing to do anything to stop being an omega.

Even this. If only to stop being weak. Pathetic. Sam had apparently popped a knot the week before. John had taken them for ice cream to celebrate. He'd kept his hand down Dean's jeans the entire time.

Dean had spent the next hour puking up ice cream and chicken, what he'd had to cook for dinner.

Dean was four, being held by his mother. She sang Hey Jude, as he tried to sleep. He'd had nightmares that she'd been taken away.

"Don't worry, Dean. I'm here... I'll always be here, Dean..."

She'd lied.