Chapter Text
"Dean, it's been over two years since dad died," Sam says on a random Tuesday evening, sitting on a red vintage bar stool inside his big brother's western-style saloon bar.
Dean freezes with a warm, damp cloth between his right palm and the cherry wood bartop, staring wide-eyed at his brother.
"Yeah, Sam, I remember," Dean says, his tone a little sharp as he unwillingly flashes back to the night a call from a hospital in Missouri woke him up.
'John Winchester was involved in a car accident.'
'He appears to have been heavily intoxicated.'
"I also drove us to Illinois to visit his and mom's graves a couple 'o months back."
He does not appreciate Sam giving him puppy eyes when discussing their dead family.
"I'm just saying, now that you're the Alpha, we have a shot at building the pack we never had growing up," Sam says with an urgent edge.
"Where's this coming from?" Dean says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Sam sighs and combs his righthand fingers through his hair, then rests his elbow on the bar and his chin on his palm, clearly as uncomfortable with the topic as Dean feels. Which means he has a good reason for bringing it up.
"You know how lonely I got as a kid?" he starts in a low voice.
Dean nods mutely.
"Well, that never really went away, even when I went to Standford. I mean, I made a bunch of friends, and I had Jess for a little while, but none of 'em were really pack, you know?"
Dean folds his arms, leaving the damp cloth on the bartop.
"Yeah," he sighs.
Sam sits up straight.
"'Cause you feel it too," he says eagerly. "I mean, I love Bobby, Ellen, and Jo, but they're their own family unit. They're still pack, but they're not... you know..." He trails off and waves his hand, lost for words.
Dean tucks his chin into his chest and whispers, "I know."
Sam smiles in noticeable relief and throws Dean through a loop by proclaiming, "You should have a kid."
Dean gapes, speechless.
"Hear me out," Sam rushes on before Dean can get his wits about him. "In the past, when packs were almost completely wiped out, the priority of everyone who survived was to rebuild what was lost, and bringing new life into a grieving pack is proven to trigger Oxytocin, Dopamine, and other happy hormones that help to form stronger bonds."
There is a lot Dean could say to that, but what comes out of his mouth is, "Why me?"
Sam's eyebrows fly towards his hairline.
"Well, you can't expect me to do it," he says.
Dean tenses his shoulders and growls, "Why not?"
Sam leans back and purses his lips stubbornly.
"How 'bout 'cause I'm twenty-five, and you're nearly thirty? Or that I'm still at the entry-level of my career, and you own your own business? Dean, you have a mortgage on your house, and you brought my house for me."
Dean untenses, closes his eyes, and presses his fingertips against his eyelids.
"Can't it wait a few more years? Why does it need to happen now?"
He drags his hands down his face, revealing Sam's somber expression.
"We've been through so much already," Sam says quietly. "You might have some memories of what it was like before mom died, but our family has been broken for as long as I can remember. And if I lost you, I'd have nobody else. And that terrifies me."
Dean drops his hands onto the bar and clenches his fists.
"Bobby wouldn't let you go it alone, Sammy," he says, soft but confident.
Sam's smile is sad.
"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same."
Dean considers his little brother, who relies on him more than either is willing to admit, not because Sam is ashamed but because independence is still new to both of them. They have only had each other throughout almost their entire lives, and until recently, Dean was convinced that was all they needed.
Sam, however, has never thought that, and Dean used to resent his brother's yearning for more than he could provide, with his dad's voice in his head hissing that he would never be good enough. But since dad's death, Sam has leaned on Dean more than he has in years, and they are finally at a point where their pack bond does not feel toxic, although they still have a ways to go before they can call it healthy.
And now, Sam is telling Dean what he needs from him as the Alpha of their pack, something Dean has longed for since he presented as an alpha at eleven years old, far too young to know how to protect and provide for his family of two, just like he was too young to know how to change diapers at four years old and to shoplift at seven.
Dean takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, accepting the responsibility like it is second nature to him.
Because it is.
"Shame Ben turned out to be a false alarm, huh?" he jokes to lighten the mood. He picks up the damp cloth and returns to wiping down the bar.
Sam's sadness fades and is replaced by a grimace.
"Lucky, you mean," he huffs.
Dean cocks an eyebrow.
"You never did mention why you and Lisa didn't get along," he says.
Sam quickly shakes his head and gracefully avoids the impending confrontation by saying, "Forget about Lisa and Ben. This is about real family, our family. You need to find someone to settle down with."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean lifts his empty hands, palms out. His heart beats double time as panic creeps in. "That's... that's not even on my radar, little brother."
Sam stares at him.
"You're not thinking of knocking up some random hookup," he deadpans.
Dean lowers his hands and shrugs.
"Why not?"
Sam arches his eyebrows in reproach.
"How 'bout 'cause this random person could choose to keep full custody of your kid and wring you for every dollar you have?"
"Huh," Dean says. He blinks. "Well, when you put it like that."
Sam sighs.
"If you don't wanna mate, then there are other methods of having a kid."
Dean frowns.
"Like how?"
"Surrogacy," Sam says.
"Surrogacy," Dean repeats, deadpan.
Sam nods.
"I found this agency that specializes in omega surrogates." He pulls a pamphlet from his suit jacket pocket and places it on the bar between them.
Dean plucks up the pamphlet and flips it open.
"You've been busy," he mumbles, his lips pursed.
Sam shrugs.
"I figured you'd be less than enthused about dating someone after Lisa dumped you. So, I did some research into alternatives."
"I told you she didn't dump me," Dean growls, annoyed. "It was a mutual decision."
"Right," Sam rolls his eyes.
Dean turns another page, and two words instantly jump out at him.
"Dude, this place allows 'heat sex?'" he reads, aghast.
Sam, however, is not surprised.
"Of course. Every agency that specializes in omega surrogates does."
Dean stares.
"And you see no problem with that?"
"What? No." Sam pulls on his bitch-face. "Everyone knows pregnancy is practically guaranteed through heats, especially with omegas. IVF is an option for anyone uncomfortable with it, but it's completely logical to utilize the natural boost to fertility."
"Well," Dean smacks his lips together and says bluntly, "When you put it like that."
He slaps the pamphlet on the bar and leaves it as he walks away.
"Oh, come on," Sam complains, picking up the pamphlet and walking down the bar where Dean serves a customer. "You're fine knocking up some stranger you pick up in a bar, but spending a heat with someone you meet through an agency is immoral to you? You know how backward that is, right?"
Dean sighs, passing over a beer to the wide-eyed customer and taking his money. He stomps to the cash register and shoves the money inside as Sam follows again.
"How d'you know this place is on the up-and-up, anyway?" Dean grumbles, turning around with his arms folded.
"I told you, I did the research, and this place has the best reputation in the surrogacy business. You can even request for your surrogate to come live with you throughout the pregnancy. And considering how possessive you are over family, I know that's something you'd wanna do," Sam smirks.
Dean glares.
"M'not possessive," he growls, but he snatches the offered pamphlet back out of his brother's hand.
"Sure," Sam nods, faux-seriously.
Dean narrows his eyes before flipping open the pamphlet again.
▪︎
The next day, on a whim, Dean calls the surrogate agency, knowing Sam will not leave it alone until he gives in, and since they both know he is going to do it anyway, he might as well get it over with.
Besides, since moving out of Lisa's house, his own house feels too quiet and... empty.
Of course, he knows now that he had mistaken his alpha yearning for a family with falling in love with a potential mate. It took a few months of living with Lisa to realize what he felt for her was attraction, sure, and genuine affection... but it was not love.
A year into a relationship that was stagnant and causing them both more heartache than anything else, Lisa had been the one to call him out on his bullshit (over the phone while he was burying himself in work at his dad's old garage), and they had mutually agreed to call it quits (despite what Sam believes went down).
Two years later, Dean can admit that he misses Ben more than he even thinks about Lisa. The more Dean considers the agency option, the more it appeals to him. At least this way, he knows he is not promising someone more than he can give. He cannot take the guilt of doing that again.
"Hello, this is Eden's Omega Surrogacy family planning clinic. How may I help you?" a young male voice answers the phone.
"Hey, my name is Dean Winchester, and I'm considering having a kid with a surrogate."
▪︎
A week goes by, and then he is parking the Impala outside the three-story white-brick building of Eden's Omega Surrogacy (EOS) in Wichita, Kansas.
Walking through the glass double doors, a young brunet and brown-eyed beta man in a black suit and grey tie greets him, sitting behind the curved reception desk, and he asks Dean to wait on the long black vinyl couch in the monochrome lobby.
A few minutes pass in abject boredom before a middle-aged red-haired beta woman in a white pantsuit walks through one of the tall doors into the rest of the building and is instantly addressed by the beta, "Your one o'clock is here, Naomi."
"Thank you, Nathaniel," the woman says, her dark grey eyes pinning Dean to his seat. "Mr. Winchester, please, follow me."
Naomi leads him down a long white hallway with white-tiled floors to her office, which has a wall of metal-framed windows looking out into a lush green courtyard. Dean sits in one of the two white armchairs opposite Naomi's white vinyl swivel chair, tucked under her large metal desk.
"Mr. Winchester, as you've probably figured out, my name is Naomi, and I am one of the Family Therapists here at EOS. I work primarily with single alphas. We'll start by making your profile, which will include what you are looking for in a surrogate, as well as payment information and your preferred method of fertilization. Then, our agency will perform a thorough background check, and you will need to pass a drug test to ensure you are eligible to care for a child. If you have any questions, I will answer them. Is there anything you'd like to ask before we begin?"
"Uh... yeah," Dean clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in the creaking vinyl armchair. "Have you ever had a surrogate end up keeping the baby?"
Naomi shakes her head.
"Never. Our omegas sign several legal documents ensuring that they give up all rights to the child they bear, no matter if they participate in the conception. If your concern is over losing custody of your child, then I assure you, that cannot happen."
Dean nods cautiously.
"What about cases of a surrogate terminating the pregnancy?"
Naomi hesitates.
"We have had one case of a termination occurring, and that was because the omega would not have survived giving birth. Of course, we thoroughly vet all our omegas, but it was an unavoidable, unforeseen, non-hereditary complication. So, while I won't lie and say it is impossible, the likelihood of that happening again is extremely low."
Again, Dean nods.
"I get that. But it's good to know. I, uh... I do have a bit of a criminal record -- some juvenile delinquent stuff. Is that gonna be a problem?"
Naomi smirks.
"As long as nothing flags you as a danger to minors, it should be fine. But our findings will be part of your profile, so the surrogates you are matched with, and the one you eventually choose, will be aware of your full background."
Dean relaxes enough to smile.
"Cool. Uh, then let's get this show on the road."
He spends the next hour filling out forms with Naomi's guidance. He ticks both boxes for IVF and 'procreational sex,' despite his little hissy fit in front of Sam. He is not one to pass up sex when it is on offer. If it is genuinely ethical, that is. And, call him old fashioned, but he might prefer to have sex with the bearer of his child.
He also ticks the box for him to provide his surrogate with accommodation while mentally flipping his nosy brother the bird for being right about that, too. He does not tick the box for a heat room provided by the agency, unable to believe that those rooms would be as comfortable as his bed in his territory. And finally, after a brief hesitation, he marks 'no preference' for the gender of his surrogate.
It had not escaped his notice that his brother had used neutral pronouns when discussing Dean's potential surrogate, and he supposes it inspired him to be more free with his choice than he usually would be.
After Dean has filled in his profile information, Naomi has him sign and initial a document agreeing to be examined by an agency doctor for STIs and fertility levels once he has a surrogate, which he does with a disgruntled sigh. He expected it, but he is not looking forward to that part of the process.
Once he is sliding into the driver's seat of his Baby, a buzz of excitement is thrumming in his blood.
He can admit, if only to himself, that he wants to be a dad, although the thought terrifies him. It was a big part of why he saw himself happy with Lisa. Not only was she hot (and incredibly bendy,) but she came along with an instant family, and, for a while, he thought that would be enough.
Really, it makes sense to him that having a kid without a relationship is his best shot at being happy. He messed up with Lisa, basically stringing her along out of guilt. At least, this way, he is the only one in danger of getting hurt.
▪︎
It only takes another week for Dean to get the call that they have found a potential surrogate for him.
Honestly, he was expecting it to take at least a few months. He hopes he is not about to enter a rushed disaster as he waits for Naomi to collect him and take him down a different hallway to meet the potential surrogate.
"The omega we've chosen for you is willing to share his heat with you if you are still interested," Naomi says as she walks ahead of him. "That is just one of the details we will iron out later, provided that you agree to proceed with the surrogacy, of course."
Dean almost trips over his feet at the revelation of the gender of the surrogate but catches himself (and his breath) in time not to call attention to his reaction. His stomach flips and knots as the reality of what he signed up for begins to sink in, and he wonders if he is really ready for this.
Too soon, they arrive at a door with opaque glass, and he has just enough time to brace himself as Naomi pushes down the handle.
"Dean Winchester, meet Castiel Novak, your potential surrogate, and my associate Duma. She will be representing Castiel throughout the proceedings," Naomi says, stepping to one side, and Dean can see the two people sitting at a long, glossy dark wood table.
One is a dark-haired and dark-eyed woman in a black pantsuit, and the other is a dark-haired and blue-eyed man in a black suit with a cobalt blue tie. Both are omega, and both are unfairly attractive.
They get up from their seats to greet him. Dean stands, frozen in the doorway for several awkward seconds before he stumbles forward into the room, allowing Naomi to shut it behind him.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel says in a startingly smoky voice, holding out his hand.
Dean jolts into action, taking Cas's hand and shaking it, making sure not to squeeze out of habit (and nervousness).
"Hey," he says, slightly breathless.
He clears his throat and drops Castiel's hand.
When Castiel steps back, taking his seat, Dean subtly scents the air, but Castiel and Duma are wearing scent-blockers.
It makes sense. Sam prefers to wear scent-blockers whenever he leaves his house, too. However, Dean cannot help but feel disappointed because scent is a not inconsiderable tool he uses to his advantage when he is forming an opinion on someone new or just picking up a stranger for sex. The lack of smells in the room, other than Naomi's light floral and menthol beta scent, only makes him feel even more out of his depth than the situation already warrants.
Dean and Naomi sit down across from Castiel and Duma.
"Now introductions have been made," Naomi says briskly. "The point of this meeting is for you two to get to know each other and establish if this is a good match. Of course, it is agency policy that no contracts are signed until at least two weeks have passed after the first meeting, so there will be plenty of chances to cover all the topics that are important for you to make a decision, and either of you can back out at any time until the contracts are signed. Duma and I are here to mitigate and answer any questions, per EOS policy."
Dean nods along, even though his thoughts are stuck on the possibility of Castiel carrying his kid.
There is a lengthy silence following Naomi's speech as Dean stares wide-eyed at Castiel, and Castiel's deep blue eyes stare back, unblinking.
"Perhaps Castiel should start," Duma suggests when Dean fails to take the initiative.
Castiel glances at Duma, and Dean sucks in a deep breath, his lungs burning as if he was holding his breath without realizing it.
"All right," Castiel agrees, his blue eyes zeroing in on Dean again. "My name is Castiel, but the people closest to me call me 'Cas,' or more annoyingly, 'Cassy.'" His chapped pink lips pull down in a brief frown, and Dean raises his eyebrows. "If you wish to shorten my name, my preference is Cas," Castiel squints his eyes in what seems to be a warning.
Dean fights the smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"You got it, Cas," he says, losing the fight and smirking just a little.
Cas squints at him silently for a moment longer and continues, "I'll be thirty in December, and I am a freelance translator. However, since I graduated College with my Master's Degree in thirty-one languages -- including six that are extinct -- I have struggled to find steady work, and my financial instability has led me to find unconventional means of income."
"Huh," Dean says, letting all that sink in. "That's... That's impressive. You must be pretty damn smart."
Cas blinks once, twice, and says, "Thank you. Although, my perceived intelligence has done little to appeal to employers."
"Well, that sucks," Dean says, hoping he is not coming across as dumb as he sounds to his ears. He clears his throat. "I inherited half my dad's auto shop when he passed a couple years back, and I sold it back to his buddy and co-owner to open my dream bar. It brings in enough cash that I got a mortgage on my house and my brother's. And, since I'm almost thirty, and my last relationship was a total fucking disaster, my brother suggested I try out surrogacy."
Cas tilts his head, looking curious.
"Why not wait until you find a mate?" he asks, and Dean supposes it is a fair question.
He rubs at his nape and shrugs.
"I, uh... I'm not really with the whole, uh, love, and... love. I-I've only had one long-term relationship," he confesses his sin, his face burning. "And let's just say, I'm not gonna make the same mistakes twice."
"But you want to be a father," Cas says, and it is not a question.
"Well, yeah," Dean answers anyway. "The reason my last relationship lasted longer than my previous record of a few weeks is 'cause my ex had a kid, and... I dunno. I guess I liked being a dad more than I liked being a live-in boyfriend." As soon as the words leave his lips, his stomach sinks, and he wonders if he should have kept his commitment issues to himself.
But Cas nods without judgment.
"What does the rest of your family think about surrogacy?"
"Well, my mom has been gone a long time, so it's just me and my brother. We never even knew our grandparents," Dean is surprised he added that last part because he is not usually one to overshare (or share at all).
Cas's gaze softens.
"I never knew my birth parents. My older brother and I were adopted by a Pastor ten months after I was born, and I haven't spoken to either of them since I turned eighteen. I understand why you would want to expand your pack."
"What about you?" Dean asks, choosing to side-step a possible sore topic, frowning. "Don't you want a family of your own?"
Cas pauses for several long seconds before he answers carefully, "At this point in my life, I struggle to care for myself and am barely keeping my head above water. I would not wish to bring a child into my situation. But I think I would like a family one day." He smiles a little wistfully.
Dean's heart skips a beat, and he shifts in his chair, uncomfortable with this stranger causing his pulse to stutter. He has no idea if his dubious attraction to a potential surrogate is a good thing or a very, very bad, stupid thing.
"Our time is up," Naomi announces as she and Duma get up and push their chairs under the table.
Dean looks from Naomi to Cas, and they stand, too.
"This seems to have gone well. It is EOS policy that you both have time to reflect before each of you receives a call to ask if you agree to another meeting. But for now, at least, this is goodbye."
"Oh, uh... okay," Dean mumbles, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands, shoving them into the front pockets of his jeans.
"It was nice to meet you, Dean," Cas says, and Dean fumbles his right hand out of his pocket to grasp Cas's hand again.
Only this time, Dean forgets to shake, and Cas holds his hand for a prolonged moment as they stare into each other's eyes. Cas's grip is firm and reassuring, and his skin is warm, dry, and surprisingly soft against Dean's calloused palm.
Dean's heartbeat trips over itself again, and he clears his throat as he takes back his hand a little reluctantly.
"It's good. Seeing you," he stammers and presses his lips together to stop embarrassing himself.
A tiny smile curls up the lefthand corner of Cas's mouth as he turns to Duma waiting by the door and follows her outside.
Naomi holds the door open for Dean to step through, leading him down the opposite end of the hallway to where Duma herds Cas away.
Once they return to the lobby, Naomi reminds Nathaniel to schedule a call to Dean next week, and then Dean walks out of EOS and slides into his car, wondering what the hell just happened.
He feels at a loss on the drive back to his bar, maybe even a little dazed. Definitely confused. Nobody has ever set him back on his heels like that before, at least not while wearing scent-blockers. The only person who even came close was Cassie Robinson. His instant, overwhelming attraction to her had much to do with her beauty and alpha determination to never back down from a challenge. But, it was also her awesome scent that was the first (and last) almost completely compatible with his, and it caused him to fall head over heels and offer to mate her after just two weeks of casual dating.
It was an understatement to say he was crushed when she gently turned him down, and he did not react well to rejection. But in his defense, he was twenty-four and had never experienced heartbreak like that before.
Considering his history, he thinks he is justifiably a little wary of his attraction to Cas because if he is reacting this way now, what will happen when Cas takes off his scent blockers or goes into heat?
Whoa, hold on, when? Not if?
Has Dean already made his decision, even subconsciously?
That is a terrifying thought.
"What's with the brooding, handsome?" Pamela says, breaking Dean out of his internal freakout. "You should be dancing on the bartop in celebration right now."
Dean eyes her as the alpha woman is handing over change to a customer.
"You think so, do you?"
"Oh, I know so," Pamela smirks. "You got matched with a hottie, and now you're wondering what they smell like."
Dean scowls.
"How d'you know he wore scent-blockers?"
Pamela rolls her eyes.
"It's a pretty easy assumption. Omegas typically conceal their universally delicious scent in public spaces to avoid harassment. Didn't you have The Talk with Sam?"
Dean shrugs and sighs.
"Sam said he didn't wanna attract the wrong attention. I got the impression that omegas interested in men didn't wear them. Jess didn't when she was dating Sam."
"Ah, so you're worried Mr. Perfect isn't as into you as you are him," Pamela surmises.
Dean glares, and Pamela cackles.
"I never said he was perfect," Dean mumbles, trying not to pout.
"Your face did," Pamela says sweetly. "And I wouldn't worry. I'll bet a year's wages that he likes you too."
Dean collects the empty beer bottles off the bar.
"I'll hold you to that," he grunts, dumping them in the garbage can.
Pamela winks.
That evening, Sam drops by after a day of lawyering for a beer and a chat, which never happens unless he wants something.
It is obvious what his motive is this time.
"His name is Cas," Dean tells his nosy brother when he finally asks about the meeting. "He's a freelance translator struggling to find work and in dire need of cash."
"Do you like him?" Sam says eagerly.
Dean hears Pamela bark a laugh at the other end of the bar.
"He seems cool," Dean mumbles, his eyes on the whiskey he is pouring for a customer. "But I'm not sure he's the one."
Sam brings out the puppy eyes, "Why not?"
Dean sighs as he puts dollar bills into the cash register.
"I dunno if we're compatible 'cause he was wearing scent-blockers."
Sam frowns.
"Huh," he says. "I didn't think of that. Can't you request that he wash off the blockers for the next meeting?"
"I guess," Dean says and shrugs. "I'm thinking about it."
"But you're interested," Sam says, sounding smug.
Dean narrows his eyes.
"I just said I'm thinking about it," he repeats, annoyed.
Sam leans back from the bar with his hands up.
"Okay, okay, touchy. I can take a hint. Just keep me posted." He waves to Pamela, and he turns to leave.
"Order a beer next time, nosy!" Dean calls out as Sam ambles out the door.
▪︎
Eight days later, Dean is still unsure of his next move. Part of him wants to shop around to see what else is out there, but a more significant part does not want to chance Castiel being snatched up by someone else while Dean sows his surrogate oats.
He is in his office inside the bar, checking over the restock orders, when his cell phone rings.
"Hello," he answers without looking at the caller ID.
"Mr. Winchester, this is Naomi from EOS. We are ready to schedule a second meeting with Castiel. I just need confirmation that it is what you want."
Dean gulps and licks his bottom lip as he seriously considers saying no.
"Uh, yeah," he croaks, his throat too dry all of a sudden. "Yeah, that's... That'd be good, I think." He winces, his heart beating fast.
There is the distant click-clack of fingers on a computer keyboard.
"Very good. Provided that Castiel agrees, you should receive a text of the date and time of the meeting within the next twenty-four hours."
"Okay," Dean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Of course, both you and Castiel can decide to look for another match at any time until a contract is signed," Naomi adds as if to reassure him.
And it works just a little.
He takes a deep breath and drops his hand heavily on his desk.
"Good. That's good," he says, ignoring the tremble in his voice.
"Good," Naomi agrees, and Dean swears he can hear her smile. "We will be in touch."
"Wait," Dean gasps before the conversation can end.
"Yes?" Naomi says patiently.
"Um... Scent-blockers," he starts, stops, and clears his throat. "Is it possible for Cas not to wear them this time? I need to know if we're compatible. If he's comfortable with that."
Naomi barely pauses, "I can certainly run that by Duma for her to pass on your request to Castiel."
"Okay, cool. Thank you," Dean breathes in relief.
"You're welcome, Mr. Winchester," Naomi says formally.
"Okay," he responds as Naomi hangs up.
He drops his cell phone on his desk and plants his face in his hands.
His stomach is twisting up into knots again. Maybe his nerves are getting the best of him now that this surrogacy thing is gaining traction.
He has no idea if this is even the right path for him, but one thing he does know for sure is that he wants a kid. It has been on his mind all week how he defied his dad's plan for him to continue the family business to follow his dream instead. Because if Sam can do it, then why not him? Now, he has his own business and a house and has been able to reconnect with his wayward brother and work at a much healthier relationship than they ever had when he was raising a snot-nosed kid on the road as just a kid himself.
Dean is damn lucky things turned out so well for him and Sam. Sure, Sam's omega girlfriend ran out on him after he proposed to her, and Dean's past romantic relationships barely qualify as such, but Dean likes to think they grew up to be good people in the end.
He, for one, cannot be prouder of the man his little brother has become, and he likes that he had even a little something to do with it. That alone makes Dean feel like he can handle a kid of his own, and since he cannot even imagine the type of person he could trust enough to raise a kid with him, he can admit (if only to himself) that Sam was right to suggest he look into surrogacy.
His doubts have little to do with having a kid, although he reserves the right to be a little nervous about that, too. It has everything to do with choosing a surrogate. Especially if that surrogate is Castiel. He cannot put his finger on why Cas makes him so uneasy, but, weirdly, not in a bad way. He did not even know he could be uneasy in a good way until he met Cas.
He does not know what feeling this way means. He just knows that it is messing with his instincts when his instincts do not usually steer him wrong, and that is why he has doubts about Cas being his surrogate. Because if he goes through with this, then Cas will be pregnant with his kid, and that kid will be half him and half Cas, and there's a chance Dean could be the one to put their kid inside Cas.
Sexually.
Dean's only experience with heat sex begins and ends with the one time Lisa went into heat during the year he spent living with her and Ben, and he knows from Sam that omega heats are more intense and much less comfortable than an alpha woman's heat. Sam started taking suppressants as soon as he turned eighteen years old, and he immediately went back on them when Jess left him, not ever wanting to suffer through another heat alone if he can help it, so Dean is a little intimidated by the prospect of tending to Cas's heat.
Maybe he should do some research into omega heats?
You know, just in case.