Chapter Text
Michael was charged with prolonged spousal battery and attempted murder. He would spend the next twenty-five years in prison.
Dean was discharged two weeks later. His stomach still throbbed sometimes but the hospital had other patients who needed the bed more than Dean did and there was nothing else they could do for him. The pain would fade eventually.
He was made to stay in a cell overnight, which wasn’t too bad because Castiel and the rest of the station popped down to visit and meet him, so he was never actually alone. It gave him a start on his fan-mail. He even got a call from Sam, which was exciting, even if his brother did call him an idiot at least six times.
The next morning, he stood before a judge in court.
The judge, like many judges, was an alpha. He had golden hair, calculating amber eyes and a wicked smirk and despite being a whole head shorter than Dean, he was possibly one of the most intimidating people Dean had ever met. He constantly smirked as though he was witnessing a joke no one else was privy to and he watched Dean as though he was plotting the cruellest, most diabolical fate he was legally allowed to punish him with.
In an ironic twist, the man was named Gabriel Justice.
Even the lawyers looked nervous around him.
Dean was certain he was going to be sentenced to life in prison, but Crowley stuck to his word and when asked to the stand, he told the jury of Dean’s record with helping the police lower crime rate in LA. He rattled off some fancy statistics and charmed them with complicated, intelligent-sounding technical terms before listing the cases in which Dean had saved the life of an innocent.
Gabriel remained quiet throughout the entire affair, smirking and fingers tapping lightly on his desk as he propped his chin up with his free hand.
He didn't interrupt when Cas took the stand, explaining how Dean had saved his life twice and had protected him from Michael, even if he didn’t reveal the composition of their night together. His expression never changed as members of the jury scribbled down notes and he continued to say nothing when the other witnesses stood before the court.
Dean began to lose confidence because the judge clearly had it in for him and with his record of robbery, treason (from the Roman case), hit-and-run (Michael), kidnapping (Cas), evasion of road tax (whoops) and a string of other minor offences, Dean was looking at a minimum of forty years, he could tell.
Only when the lawyers had presented the entirety of their cases and the trial was at its end, did Gabriel clear his throat.
“Quite an impressive list of law-breaking,” he drawled, eyes twinkling with mischief and smirk wide and condescending. “Although you do seem to have a few friends on the force.”
Dean lowered his head respectfully as the court fell silent, everyone eagerly awaiting the judge’s words.
“You’ve also presented a very challenging case to my students,” continued Gabriel. “I’ve asked them to do a project on your case and one of them in particular is highly invested in the outcome. We’ve discussed it in great depths and he’s given me a very unique perspective. A bright student who came from nothing, like yourself.”
Gabriel let that comment sink in and Dean slowly raised his head, eyes wide as he began to put two and two together.
Gabriel winked.
“Eighteen months in prison. I think you’ll have learned your lesson by then. Dismissed.” Gabriel tapped his gavel and it was possibly the most abrupt end to a court proceeding ever heard of but Dean didn’t care about that because: eighteen months? That was it?
Was someone playing a prank?
There was an eruption of cheering from the LAPD and Dean startled as people began clapping for him even as Benny and Balthazar gently pulled him to his feet and led him out of the courtroom with cuffs binding his hands. As he was being led down an empty corridor, Gabriel suddenly appeared in front of him.
“I have a feeling my student will be pleased with the outcome, don’t you?” He hummed, eyes sharp and smirk amused.
Dean nodded slowly. “You’re Sam’s professor?”
“I am. He’s proud of you. Maybe influenced my decision about your case.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Don’t give me a reason to regret my decision, kid.”
“I won’t,” promised Dean and Gabriel eyed him once more before wedging a lollipop between his lips and sauntering away.
What a weird guy, thought Dean. He shrugged and let the officers bundle him in the squad car.
Just as Benny started the engine, Cas sprinted over and Balthazar rolled the window down for him.
“Congratulations,” offered Cas and Dean chuckled.
“Everyone keeps congratulating me for getting sentenced to prison. I’m not sure how to feel.”
Cas grinned. “You should be thankful you’ll get to see another sunrise.”
Dean laughed and gazed at his friend fondly.
“…You gonna wait for me, Angel?” He whispered and Cas’ face softened and he leaned over to press his lips to Dean’s forehead.
“Actually, I was thinking of offering my sexy ass to Crowley for that new management position that’s just opened up,” winked Cas and Dean snorted and nipped the omega’s lips.
“You’re supposed to say you’ll wait for me for a thousand sunrises and a thousand more sunsets until I’m finally where I belong in your arms.”
“I think mine’s more poetic.”
Dean grinned and hummed happily when Cas pressed their lips together.
“Death didn’t part us so I suppose I’m in it for the long haul,” murmured Cas as he brushed his thumb over Dean’s cheek and the alpha leaned into his palm.
“I’ll visit you every day,” promised Cas and Dean smiled and peppered kisses over his long fingers.
“You’d better.”
“We’ll visit too,” teased Benny from the driver’s seat and Dean laughed as Balthazar scrunched his nose up.
“I’ll be offended if you don’t,” replied Dean before he glanced back at Cas.
“When you next see me in something other than an orange jumpsuit, I’ll be an investigator.”
Cas smiled and claimed his lips again.
“I can’t wait.”
When they pulled apart, Balthazar rolled the window up and Cas stepped back as the car disappeared around the corner.
* * *
Four years later…
“You would look awesome in a pair of these tight, leather thongs, Angel,” whispered Dean as he took a seat near the front of the stage. The lighting was dimmed, placing more focus on the dancers on stage. They were a mixture of alpha, beta and omega and they worked the poles expertly, fluttering their eyelashes or posing in provocative positions as the audience cheered and whistled them on.
“Focus on the job, Dean,” came the grumbled reply from his earpiece and Dean grinned and settled into his seat, asking the wandering waiter for a whisky.
“Might have to steal one,” he teased lowly, angling his head towards the microphone in his jacket.
“TMI, guys. Really don’t need to hear about your adventures into Fifty Shades territory,” huffed a voice that sounded suspiciously like Charlie.
“I’ll cuff you for theft,” muttered Cas and Dean smiled to himself as one of the young, male omegas on stage bent over into a traditional ‘presenting’ pose, making the audience growl and jeer with desire.
“If you wore one of those whilst you were in heat… mmm… the things I’d do to you. That perfect hole on display for my tongue-”
“Oh, come on!”
“Gross!”
“Where’s the bleach?”
Dean bit back a laugh at the team’s disgust. He heard Cas heave out a sigh and knew the omega was flushing a bright red.
“Mind out of the gutter and onto the case, Thief.”
Dean chuckled softly and smiled at the waiter as his drink came.
“Alright, alright,” Dean placated as he glanced around the club. It was just like every other strip club in LA; same tacky decorations, same horny audience, same overpriced drinks, same awful music… with one difference. Every dancer in the club looked under drinking age; some by a good few years.
That alone had raised red flags for the LAPD, but then they’d heard rumours that for the right price, the club owner would sell out his dancers for a night of pleasure, whether they were willing or not.
He paid his dancers well, but not all of them looked happy.
Dean surveyed the club as he took a sip of his drink. Some dancers were amongst the audience, rolling their hips or flexing their bodies whilst straddling clients’ laps. Some of the customers looked old enough to be their grandparents.
Dean turned his nose up at the display and angled the button camera in his shirt towards an old, bearded beta with his hands smoothing over a young alpha’s bare thighs. The alpha looked uncomfortable and when the beta began leering at him, he turned his gaze away.
Dean swivelled to face the stage again, recording the obscene poses of the dancing omegas, alphas and betas on stage. Two female omegas stood opposite each other in nothing but a pair of thongs as they rutted against the same pole.
“You guys getting this?” Dean asked softly and there was an answering hum from Cas and a quiet growl from Benny.
“They’re just kids,” the other alpha rumbled disgustedly and Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line in agreement. Whoever owned this club was a sick lowlife.
A blonde beta with heavy eyeliner and a permanent scowl stalked over to Dean. She eyed him warily and Dean realised she was planning on giving him a lap dance despite looking like she wanted to knife him.
He leaned back and kept his hands by his sides, but plastered on a smirk in case anyone important was watching his reactions. Didn’t want to blow his cover now.
“Forgive me, Cas,” he whispered into the mic in his shirt pocket and he received a grunt in reply.
The beta glared at him as she straddled him and Dean did his best to not look at her scantily-clad body; her tight shorts and bra barely concealing her assets.
She had long, curly hair and bright blue eyes and Dean nearly snarled in frustration because this beta looked like she was supposed to be in school, not grinding in some middle-aged man’s lap.
“What’s your name, kid?” Asked Dean quietly as the beta began rolling her hips and grinding against his crotch in time with the migraine-inducing music.
“Anything you want it to be,” huffed the beta, not bothering to look at him.
“Well, I want to know your real name,” murmured Dean, hands firmly by his side.
The beta narrowed her eyes and turned her back to him, continuing her dancing.
“Claire,” she said curtly and Dean nodded.
“And how old are you, Claire?”
Claire scrunched her face up in revulsion as she rolled her eyes.
“Pervert,” she growled and Dean’s mouth turned downwards.
“I’m not like that. I just need to know how old you are.”
“Can’t find someone your own age? How pathetic,” bit out Claire.
Dean scowled unhappily and suddenly, the beta stiffened and snapped her mouth shut as she dropped her gaze to the floor. She glanced up again, towards the bar and Dean was surprised when she turned around again to face him.
Dean subtly glanced towards the bar to find a well-dressed alpha in a suit frowning disapprovingly at Claire.
The owner of the club. It had to be.
To keep up appearances, Dean gingerly placed his hands on Claire’s hips and beta growled quietly before grinding harshly against his crotch, making it ache. He grunted lowly and ignored her glaring.
“Listen, kid, I’m not a customer. I’m an investigator,” breathed Dean. “I want to help you. I need you to tell me how old you are.”
Claire eyed him suspiciously but relaxed the pressure on his crotch.
“Bull. You look nothing like an investigator. Show me your badge.”
Dean pulled a face. “I can’t exactly flash my badge here when I’m supposed to be undercover,” he whispered. “But if you lean forwards a little and speak to my top pocket and then put your ear beside my right one, you’ll realise I’m not here alone.”
Claire stared at him in surprise as Dean offered her a small smile.
“Go on,” he murmured and Claire slowly leaned forwards.
“…Hello?” She mumbled before shifting to press her body against Dean’s as she lined her ear with his.
“Hello, Claire,” murmured Castiel. “My name is Detective Castiel Novak. I see you’ve met my mate; Dean. I promise he won’t hurt you. Please, do as he asks; we’re only a couple of blocks away.”
Claire gasped quietly. “You really are a cop,” she whispered and Dean winked at her playfully.
“Think you can confirm your age for me? Smile; you’re on camera.”
A grin tugged at the corners of Claire’s lips and she pitched forwards, pretending to grind harder against Dean.
“My name’s Claire Pond. I’m sixteen years of age but some of my friends here are younger. The youngest is thirteen.”
Dean snarled and Claire startled.
“Sorry,” he apologised with a grimace and this time she did smile.
“Don’t be. It’s… kinda nice to know at least someone disapproves.” She glanced over at her boss, whose gaze flicked between them suspiciously after hearing Dean’s abrupt snarl.
“Grope my ass,” she ordered quietly and Dean’s eyes widened in mortification.
“I can’t do that!” He hissed and Claire glared at him before baring her throat and pushing his face into it.
“Nip my neck or something,” she demanded and Dean squeaked indignantly.
“I’m not hitting on a sixteen-year-old!”
“My boss suspects something’s wrong. Do something!” She whispered harshly and Dean grimaced before pressing his lips to her throat, hands brushing up her sides. He felt dirty.
The owner turned away, satisfied.
“That was pathetic,” muttered Claire, but she sounded faintly amused and Dean was thankful she wasn’t repulsed by his actions.
“Your boss over there… he the owner of this joint?” Asked Dean quietly and Claire nodded, continuing to dance in his lap.
“His name’s Bartholomew Goldstein. He pays teens good money to come dance here and he also gives teens, like me, who come from a troubled background a place to stay and eat and work. Problem is he says we can only stay if we take off our clothes for the customers and let them touch us.”
Dean bit back a growl and he could hear Benny snarling down his earpiece.
“Does he force you to do anything else?” Asked Dean. “Where does he draw the line at customers touching you?”
Claire glanced away in shame.
“He doesn’t.”
There was a lot of cursing in his earpiece and Dean’s nails bit crescents into the seat. Even Castiel was growling softly.
“He makes you have sex with them?” Asked Dean, barely controlling his anger and Claire nodded.
“Sometimes. Only if they’re willing to pay his price. If they think he’s asking for too much, he turns them away.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you managed to get past the bodyguard. He doesn’t let just anyone in.”
“Slipped him some cash. It’s amazing what you can get into with a thousand dollars,” hummed Dean before subtly eying the slick-haired, silver-suited Bartholomew.
“Does he make the younger teens… pleasure the customers?” Asked Dean and Claire nodded hesitantly.
“Need you to speak into the microphone, kid.”
“He makes the fifteen and fourteen-year-olds sleep with customers too. If they pay him well,” whispered Claire and Dean offered her a sympathetic glance before coming to a decision.
“Listen, if I can get him to admit he’s forcing underage kids to have sex with his clients, I can get him arrested without any hassle. Think you can go dance somewhere else whilst I have a chat with him?”
Claire nodded. “Ben’s an omega. Black hair, brown eyes, lean, quite short. He’s fourteen. Ask for him,” she advised. “He’ll want a grand for him. Cash.”
“You’ve been very helpful, Miss Pond,” murmured Dean. “Once this is all over, come to the station and we’ll sort something out for you regarding accommodation and work.”
Claire grinned gratefully and slid off him sensually before sashaying off to another part of the club.
Dean waited a few minutes, sipping casually at his drink before ambling over to Bartholomew.
“Cute beta,” commented Dean as he leaned against the bar, ordering another drink. Bartholomew eyed him silently, assessing.
“She can be… fiery,” he finally said and Dean grinned and tipped the barman when his whisky came.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Bartholomew allowed himself a small smirk. “You enjoyed her company?”
Dean sipped at his drink. “I did. Shame she’s not an omega.”
Bartholomew cocked an eyebrow. “She’s still an excellent dancer.”
Dean nodded. “No question. Just… not my type.”
The other alpha quirked his lips in amusement. “Your type?”
“I have a weakness for young, dark-haired omegas,” chuckled Dean. “You know the ones; kinda small and slim. Doesn’t really matter whether they’re male or female.”
An ugly smirk crawled across the other alpha’s features and Dean held back a shudder.
“I see. You’re in luck; I happen to know a dancer who fits your description rather perfectly. Would you be interested in a performance?”
Dean smirked in a way he hoped looked like all the other creepy, perverted guys in the club.
“Amongst other things.”
Bartholomew looked incredibly pleased. He caught a waitress by the arm and asked her to usher Ben from his room. The waitress, who looked far too young to be serving drinks, sent a subtle, disgusted glare at Dean before scurrying away.
Dean’s skin crawled as he raised his glass to his lips, Bartholomew relaxing against the bar. He felt uncomfortable and filthy. A few moments later, a young omega headed towards Bartholomew. He looked nervous and a little frightened and Dean felt sick as the boy glanced at him worriedly.
“Meet Ben,” said Bartholomew, voice like silk and Dean forced a smirk as his gaze roamed over the poor boy’s body.
“Very nice. He’s beautiful.”
The boy flinched and Dean wanted to throw up at his own words.
Bartholomew was quiet for a minute as he scrutinised Dean’s reaction, so Dean gently brushed his fingers down the omega’s cheek as if admiring the softness of his skin and when Ben closed his eyes in fear, Dean wanted to shoot something.
Finally, Bartholomew’s expression slid into a satisfied smile.
“Mister…?”
“Ackles. Jensen Ackles,” finished Dean and Bartholomew nodded.
“Mister Ackles… I like you. I like your laid-back attitude. I like how you admire my employees. I want to give you something in return for making me smile. An offer of sorts. Regarding our friend, Ben,” purred Bartholomew and Dean raised an interested eyebrow.
“I’m listening.”
“For one thousand dollars, cash, I’m willing to offer you a night with Ben Braeden. You can do anything you like with him. I’ll even give you a room to… enjoy his company in. He’ll be yours for the remainder of the evening and until midday tomorrow.”
Dean plastered on a look of poorly-concealed excitement as Ben whimpered softly.
“A whole night, huh? And I can do anything with him?”
“Anything,” agreed Bartholomew smoothly and Dean scratched his chin contemplatively.
“A grand though? It’s a little steep.”
“He’s worth it, I assure you.”
“Can’t you do seven hundred?” Dean haggled, hoping it would make the whole act more believable.
Bartholomew shook his head and Dean pulled a face.
“Eight?”
Once again Bartholomew shook his head and Dean sighed.
“Listen, man, I’ll do eight-fifty, but that’s my final offer. I can’t go any higher than that. Not for a single night.”
Bartholomew blinked slowly.
“If you’re not willing to pay for the experience, then I’m afraid I’ll have to take my offer elsewhere. Have a good evening, Mister Ackles.”
“Nine,” Dean blurted as the alpha began to turn away. “I’ll do nine, but I’ve not got any more on me. Please. I really like him and I’ve travelled a long way to get here.”
Bartholomew smirked and turned to face him.
“You’re lucky I like you, Mister Ackles. Nine hundred dollars for one night with Ben Braeden. It’s a deal.”
Dean grinned as Ben let out a little sob.
“So… when can I have him?”
“As soon as you pay me,” replied Bartholomew. “Then he’s yours to do with as you please for the rest of the night.”
Dean chuckled and pulled out his wallet. He counted out nine hundred dollars of LAPD-supplied money and paused before handing it over.
“Hey, I didn’t ask… how old is he?”
“Fourteen,” said Bartholomew before holding his hand out expectantly and Dean suddenly smirked and shoved the money back into his wallet.
“Good to know,” he commented as he pocketed his wallet. He turned to the scared Ben.
“Ever seen the police break down a door?” He winked and the young omega tilted his head in confusion as Bartholomew frowned.
The door suddenly flung open and a team of officers stormed into the building with bulletproof vests and cocked weapons. Castiel glided into the room, trench coat billowing majestically behind him.
Ben laughed in relief as Claire cheered from the corner of the room and Dean grinned at his lover before turning to the repulsive club owner.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and may be used against you in a court of law.” He chuckled to himself. “I never get tired of saying that.”
Suddenly, a fist impacted with Dean’s jaw and the investigator stumbled as Bartholomew cursed at his sore hand.
“You son of a bitch!” He screeched at Dean whilst preparing for another blow, but quicker than he could process, Castiel was on him.
The omega twisted his arm backwards, kicked the back of his knees until the alpha crumpled to the floor, then yanked his wrists behind his body so he could slap on a pair of cuffs.
“Mister Goldstein, you are under arrest for the exposing and prostitution of underage teenagers and for assaulting an officer of the law,” growled Castiel, eyes narrowed as he forced the alpha to remain on his knees.
“Woah,” said Ben, staring at Castiel in awe and Dean grinned despite his aching jaw.
“Ain’t he awesome?”
Ben nodded slowly. An omega detective was a rare sight. An omega detective overpowering an aggressive alpha with barely any effort and not a single hair out of place was practically a fairy tale.
Cas rolled his eyes.
“Help me load him into the car,” he ordered flatly and Dean chuckled and did as asked whilst the other officers began to question the customers and make additional arrests; some herding the dancers to safety and explaining their futures.
* * *
Cas collapsed into bed with a groan, rubbing his eyes after the stacks of mind-numbing paperwork he’d just been subjected to. It was midnight and his fingers were aching from typing so much.
Dean soon tumbled into the other side of the bed with an equally-exhausted groan of complaint. He flexed his hands for a few moments before rolling over and cuddling up to his mate.
Cas huffed and curled into him, purring when Dean slipped his arms around him and kissed his head.
“You reek of pheromones,” muttered Cas. “Are you due to start a rut?”
Dean grumbled out a noise that could have been taken as agreement or maybe a sign that he was suffocating.
“I’m due for a heat soon,” murmured Cas and Dean moaned softly.
“We’ve managed to line our cycles up,” he said quietly and the omega nodded before nuzzling the alpha’s throat.
“How’s your jaw?”
“Okay,” hummed Dean, squeezing his lover gently. “Might feel better if you kiss it.”
Castiel quirked a smile and pressed his lips against the alpha’s jaw, making Dean sigh happily.
“Much better.”
Castiel smirked and snuggled into Dean’s chest, kissing his bare skin when the alpha wrapped himself around him, nuzzling his hair and scenting him adoringly.
“I never thought I’d have this,” whispered Dean and Cas smiled, gazing at the fairy lights twinkling above them.
“Neither did I,” he murmured and Dean squeezed him again. A few minutes ticked by in silence.
“We have an early shift tomorrow,” whispered Cas and Dean nosed at his hair.
“Want me to turn the lights off?”
“Please.”
Dean chuckled and crawled out of bed and whilst he was gone, Cas rearranged their nest of pillows and cushions and blankets to look more comfortable. A few seconds later, the fairy lights shut off, plunging the tent into darkness. He heard the alpha padding across their bedroom before climbing through the door flap and slithering back onto the mattress.
He curled around Cas once more and the omega tucked them both in with the assortment of blankets they shared.
Dean rumbled in contentment and the sound made the omega in Castiel purr with joy. His alpha loved him dearly and Cas had never realised how amazing that felt.
Dean smoothed a hand down his bare back.
“I’ll always love you, Angel,” he hummed sleepily and Cas smiled.
“I love you too, Thief.”
Dean grinned fondly.
“Out of everything I ever stole, what was your favourite?” Whispered Dean, genuinely curious and Castiel was silent for a few moments, contemplative, before a slow smile spread over his face and he closed his eyes and nestled into his mate’s chest.
“My heart.”