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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 17: Alone
Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.
A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see đ€. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.
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âWe'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.âÂ
He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. Youâre forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.
You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. Youâre on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet itâs not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now.Â
You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart.Â
You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then theyâd be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. Youâve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but itâs never felt like this. Theyâre not just across base from you, theyâre probably in an entirely different country.Â
You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghostâs closed door feels particularly empty.Â
You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. Youâre not quite sure what youâre going to do, now that you donât have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while theyâre at training, except you wonât have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to.Â
Itâll be days before you see them again.Â
If you see them again.Â
You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You wonât entertain it, not now while youâre still trying to process the fact that theyâre gone. Even if it is a possibility.Â
Youâre sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You donât want to be without it, in case they call. You donât want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if itâs your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.
You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesnât feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. Sheâs been here before, and you trust her.Â
âHow are you doing?â She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you.Â
âI donât know.â You say, letting out a sigh. âI couldnât sleep last night.âÂ
âI donât blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?âÂ
You nod. âYeah. Itâs too quiet. Too empty.âÂ
âI bet.â You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. âLetâs get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.âÂ
âWas gonna happen eventually, though.â You say. âFor the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.âÂ
âIt does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if itâs short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what itâs like.âÂ
âIâm trying not to think about that.â You say.Â
âI think thatâs the best thing you can do right now.â She squeezes your arm. âCome on, weâll get the food to go and weâll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. Itâs much quieter than the mess.âÂ
You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you wonât have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, youâre sure it would have only been worse. Â
âMake yourself at home.â Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. âYou can sit at the desk to eat, if thatâs more comfortable. I donât mind.âÂ
You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, sheâs always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you.Â
âIf thereâs one thing I miss, itâs good diner food.â Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat.Â
You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. âI miss a lot of things.âÂ
âWould you ever want to go back and visit America?â Dr. Keller asks.Â
You shrug. âI donât know.âÂ
âIâm sure theyâd take you, if you asked.â She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. âI donât think thereâs much they wouldnât do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.âÂ
âIâm starting to realize that.â You say.Â
âGood. Itâs reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. Youâve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.âÂ
It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment.Â
âCan I ask you something?â You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts.Â
âOf course.â She says, looking up from the papers sheâd been looking through.Â
âSince Iâm your only patient, what do you do all day?â You ask.Â
She smiles. âI do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.âÂ
âDo you ever feel like youâre wasting your skills here?âÂ
She shakes her head. âNo. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, thereâs a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.â She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. âItâs no less fulfilling than working at institutes. Itâs nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.âÂ
âIt is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.â You say. âThere were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They werenât always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.âÂ
âUnfortunately thatâs rather common with residents.â She says. âMost of them donât make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.â She smiles at you. âNow my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You wonât hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.âÂ
You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also donât want to be alone.Â
âIâd...like to stay here, if thatâs okay?â You finally say, making your decision.Â
âMore than okay.â She smiles. âMake yourself at home, do whatever youâd like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You wonât bother me in the slightest. Youâre always welcome to hang out in here.âÂ
You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesnât calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit.Â
You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.Â
You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing theyâre not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away.Â
You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know itâs an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents youâve had with them. The most they do is stare, though thatâs to be expected as an omega.Â
What if theyâre holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment.Â
Youâre shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, youâve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller wonât be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope theyâd help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you?Â
Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you donât get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? Itâs not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you?Â
You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No oneâs coming through the door, no oneâs going to try and hurt you.Â
Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday.Â
The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact youâre freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. Youâre still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of Johnâs shirts and sweatpants.Â
You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You wonât sleep, but at least youâre not panicking anymore.Â
The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news.Â
Youâre not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know theyâre all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them.Â
Youâre still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. Youâre exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. Youâre constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling.Â
Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. Itâs a risk youâre well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you.Â
Youâre not sure youâd survive that.Â
Most omegas donât.Â
âStill nothing?â Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least.Â
You shake your head. âNothing.âÂ
âSometimes no news is good news.â She says. âI know youâd prefer to have any news at all, though.âÂ
âI canât stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?â You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard.Â
âKate promised sheâd call if something happened, right?â
You nod. âYeah.âÂ
âSheâs a woman of her word, I can say that much. Iâm sure theyâre fine. Theyâre very capable soldiers. They wouldnât be in Spec Ops if they werenât, much less on a highly specialized team.â Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. âItâs still hard, not knowing where they are or what theyâre doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.â She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. âI still donât think sheâs completely forgiven him. Itâs hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you canât have constant reassurance that theyâre alright.âÂ
Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. âYour mom was an omega?âÂ
She nods. âAnd dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I donât think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.â She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. âCome on, lay down.â She directs you.Â
You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. âIs that why youâre so good at this job?âÂ
She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. âMaybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.â She gently squeezes your arm. âTheyâll be alright. Theyâre probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You donât have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.âÂ
You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. âWhat if I fall asleep and it rings?âÂ
âThen Iâll make sure you get a chance to answer it.â She says, squeezing your arm again. âI promise. Get some rest.âÂ
You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesnât stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if theyâre lying dead somewhere right now? What if somethingâs happened to Kate and she canât tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know?Â
Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps itâs the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Kellerâs couch. You donât mean to, but you canât help it as you begin to drift off to sleep.Â
Screaming. Itâs loud, piercing your ears. Somethingâs holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you donât care.Â
âYou wonât take her from me! I wonât let you!â
Youâre crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you.Â
Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it wonât let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go.Â
You know what will happen if you let go.Â
âSheâs no daughter of mine.âÂ
The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over?Â
Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. Youâre being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your motherâs hold and into the unknown.Â
âEasy, easy.âÂ
Youâre gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you.Â
âDeep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.âÂ
Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest.Â
âYouâre alright, youâre safe.âÂ
You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. Youâre on the couch in Dr. Kellerâs office still. Youâre not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare youâve lived over and over.Â
Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms.Â
âYouâre alright,â Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently.Â
You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch.Â
âHow long have you been having nightmares?â She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself.Â
âSince my heat.â You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly.Â
âYou havenât said anything about it.â She says gently, shifting slightly so sheâs facing you.Â
âI didnât want to.â You say quietly, shame burning through you. Sheâs not reprimanding you, yet you canât help but feel like youâve done something wrong. âI shouldnât be having them, I mean...itâs not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.âÂ
âIt might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing youâve been through.âÂ
Her words give you pause. Youâve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things theyâve seen, the things theyâve done, are far worse than anything youâve experienced. The things youâve experienced may pale in comparison, but theyâre your experiences. No one elseâs.Â
âIf you want to talk about them, thatâs what Iâm here for.â Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do.Â
You donât have to tell her. She wonât force you to do it. She wonât force you to do anything, to say anything you donât want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who wonât tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you.Â
You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. âMy nightmares, theyâre always about the day I left for the institute.â You start, taking a shaky breath. âI havenât had them in years.âÂ
âYou were sent early after your presentation, right?â She asks.Â
âThe day after.â You answer.Â
âBeing sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I canât even imagine what being sent that soon was like.â She lets out a breath. âSometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we donât feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.âÂ
âYou think thatâs whatâs happening?â You ask.Â
âItâs possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why youâre having nightmares about that event suddenly.âÂ
âIs there anything that will make them stop?â You ask.Â
âThereâs some things we can do together that might help the process. Iâm more than happy to help you with it, if thatâs what youâd like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.âÂ
âWhat are we gonna tell John?âÂ
She gives you a look. âWell, Iâd advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, thatâs entirely up to you and what you want to do.âÂ
You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently.Â
âThink about it.â She says. âWe can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.âÂ
Youâre brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before youâre answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadnât even checked the screen to see who was calling. Youâre just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence.Â
âHello?âÂ
Thereâs a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice.Â
âHi, sweetheart.âÂ
You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. âAlpha.â The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing Johnâs voice after so many days.Â
âIâm here. Weâre all here.â He says, distant voices sounding in the background.Â
A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. âMissed you.âÂ
âI know, weâve missed you too.âÂ
You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. âYou alright? Is everyone alright?âÂ
âWeâre alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we havenât had before. How are you holding up?âÂ
The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. Youâve been depressed and worried and there hasnât been a day thatâs gone by that you havenât panicked about something. Youâve been having horrible nightmares and havenât been sleeping. Thereâs an ache in your chest that wonât go away, and youâre afraid it might kill you if you donât see them soon.Â
âIâm alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.âÂ
âI know, sweetheart.â Thereâs a sound on the other end, something you canât make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment youâre worried you were disconnected, but Johnâs voice cuts through the noise again. âWeâre finishing up here soon, and weâll be home in a couple of days.âÂ
You canât help but sigh in relief at his words. Theyâre alright. Theyâre all safe, and theyâre going to be home soon. Youâre going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. âHurry back.â You say, your voice shaky with emotion.Â
âWeâll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but weâll be back before you know it.âÂ
Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe itâs the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing theyâre really alright paired with the knowledge that theyâll be home soon. Two days doesnât seem so far now that you know thatâs all that stands between you and seeing your pack again.Â
You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even Johnâs bed have started to smell more like you.Â
The first thing youâre going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until theyâre the only thing you can smell.Â
For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. Itâs not much, but itâs a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you.Â
You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your packâs imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know theyâre coming home soon. You clean up Johnâs room, making his bed again after youâd made a mess of it trying to sleep. Theyâre all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely wonât be spending much time in it for a while. Youâre going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared.Â
You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes youâd stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. Youâre not expecting a knock yet. Itâs too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her.Â
That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you donât know.Â
Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You donât know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless itâs an emergency. Is there an emergency? Youâre almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. Thereâd be some sign that something was happening, but itâs quiet outside, or at least, thereâs no noises youâre not expecting.Â
The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door.Â
You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They donât, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. Thereâs a soldier outside your door. A woman. You donât recognize her, but then again you donât see many women on the base, and you donât pay much attention to the other soldiers.Â
Maybe you need to start paying more attention.Â
Sheâs a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. Sheâs wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here.Â
She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. âGeneral Shepherd is waiting for you.âÂ
It takes you a moment to process what it is sheâs saying. Youâve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority youâve met is John, but you know heâs only a Captain. Thereâs others above him, but you werenât any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadnât even been given names of anyone higher up than her.Â
Apparently somethingâs changed.Â
Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isnât right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldnât have opened the door so recklessly.Â
âBut, Iâm not supposed to-â You begin, unsure of what to do now.Â
âItâs a direct order from your superior.â The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.
Youâre not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and heâs certainly not behind this.Â
You wouldnât dare say that out loud. Not right now.Â
âOkay, okay.â You say, stepping back slightly from the door. âLet me just get some shoes on.âÂ
You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you donât put it past the woman outside to barge in if you donât hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again.Â
Sheâs still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. Youâre reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost.Â
Youâd take those times back over this right now.Â
Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake youâve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. Youâre not even sure General Shepherd is a real person.Â
The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did?Â
You donât want anyone to get in trouble.Â
Especially not with this being the first time youâve been on your own. Theyâve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while theyâre gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything youâve built by misbehaving.Â
The woman leads you to a building you havenât been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if theyâre testing you to see if youâd just blindly leave with a stranger while theyâre not there to protect you.Â
Youâve made a big mistake.Â
The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. âYour phone.âÂ
You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You donât have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door.Â
Itâs bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. Youâre uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesnât seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. Youâre thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line.Â
Heâs in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all.Â
You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though itâs only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf.Â
No one will hear you scream. No one will care.Â
âMy name is General Shepherd.â He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. âI am the acting commander of Task Force 141.âÂ
Youâre not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though youâve never met him before in your life.Â
âI was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?âÂ
You shake your head. âN-No sir, the CIA didnât give me any names.âÂ
âGood.â His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesnât ease your nerves any. âThey werenât supposed to. Iâm sure youâve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.âÂ
âYes, sir.â You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe.Â
âI came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. Iâm impressed with what Iâve seen so far. Youâre getting along well with them?âÂ
You nod again. âYes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.âÂ
âGood.â He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while youâre so vulnerable. âThe success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. Youâre doing important work here with the Task Force.â His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark.Â
You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you.Â
No one would know. No one would care. Â
âIâm satisfied with what Iâm seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.â He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. âHow have you been adjusting to them being gone?âÂ
âItâs been difficult,â You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. âBut I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.âÂ
His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. âYouâre a smart girl. Thatâs why I chose you for this position. Youâre doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.âÂ
Something about his words donât sit right with you.Â
Youâre trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. Youâre sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside.Â
You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that sheâs breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust thatâs so sacred to packs.Â
She doesn't even seem bothered by it.Â
She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze.Â
âThank you for your cooperation.â She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you.Â
You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words.Â
Sheâs American.Â
âThank you for escorting me.â You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. âHave a safe trip home.âÂ
You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief.Â
Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it.Â
You always close your door. You always ensure itâs shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks.Â
You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. Itâs open. Your door is open.Â
Someone was inside your room.Â
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Just a reminder as we get close to Saturday and the new chapter being posted, Tumblr's tagging system is still not working correctly (as of 4/18), so if you are on my taglist, I would suggest keeping an eye on the blog on Saturday just in case Tumblr pulls a classic Tumblr move and doesn't notify you of the tag. I'll probably be posting the chapter early, somewhere between 7-8 AM Pacific Time.
Just something to keep in mind unless (miraculously) the tagging issue is solved by Saturday morning.
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why do i have this feeling that if something happens to reader itâs going to be ghost going on a rage-induced warpath?? like yes we know simon is Bad At Feelings but in my brain it just clicks that if reader is kidnapped or hurt heâs going to be the one thatâs out for blood.
and maybe thatâs when he realizes maybe heâs not as detached as he thought?
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I just want you to know I've been rereading through crcb while I (im)patiently wait for the next chapter and also I'm DYING for reader x ghost pls ma'am I beg đ
Ilysm thank you for blessing us
It's coming soon!!! About 15 hours give or take until I'll be posting it đ
Hehe you'll just have to wait and see what happens with Ghost đ€
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Aaw thank you đđ I'm glad you've been enjoying it, even if I do make you cry đ
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 17: Alone
Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.
A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see đ€. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
âWe'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.âÂ
He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. Youâre forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.
You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. Youâre on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet itâs not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now.Â
You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart.Â
You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then theyâd be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. Youâve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but itâs never felt like this. Theyâre not just across base from you, theyâre probably in an entirely different country.Â
You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghostâs closed door feels particularly empty.Â
You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. Youâre not quite sure what youâre going to do, now that you donât have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while theyâre at training, except you wonât have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to.Â
Itâll be days before you see them again.Â
If you see them again.Â
You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You wonât entertain it, not now while youâre still trying to process the fact that theyâre gone. Even if it is a possibility.Â
Youâre sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You donât want to be without it, in case they call. You donât want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if itâs your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.
You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesnât feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. Sheâs been here before, and you trust her.Â
âHow are you doing?â She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you.Â
âI donât know.â You say, letting out a sigh. âI couldnât sleep last night.âÂ
âI donât blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?âÂ
You nod. âYeah. Itâs too quiet. Too empty.âÂ
âI bet.â You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. âLetâs get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.âÂ
âWas gonna happen eventually, though.â You say. âFor the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.âÂ
âIt does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if itâs short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what itâs like.âÂ
âIâm trying not to think about that.â You say.Â
âI think thatâs the best thing you can do right now.â She squeezes your arm. âCome on, weâll get the food to go and weâll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. Itâs much quieter than the mess.âÂ
You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you wonât have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, youâre sure it would have only been worse. Â
âMake yourself at home.â Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. âYou can sit at the desk to eat, if thatâs more comfortable. I donât mind.âÂ
You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, sheâs always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you.Â
âIf thereâs one thing I miss, itâs good diner food.â Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat.Â
You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. âI miss a lot of things.âÂ
âWould you ever want to go back and visit America?â Dr. Keller asks.Â
You shrug. âI donât know.âÂ
âIâm sure theyâd take you, if you asked.â She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. âI donât think thereâs much they wouldnât do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.âÂ
âIâm starting to realize that.â You say.Â
âGood. Itâs reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. Youâve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.âÂ
It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment.Â
âCan I ask you something?â You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts.Â
âOf course.â She says, looking up from the papers sheâd been looking through.Â
âSince Iâm your only patient, what do you do all day?â You ask.Â
She smiles. âI do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.âÂ
âDo you ever feel like youâre wasting your skills here?âÂ
She shakes her head. âNo. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, thereâs a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.â She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. âItâs no less fulfilling than working at institutes. Itâs nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.âÂ
âIt is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.â You say. âThere were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They werenât always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.âÂ
âUnfortunately thatâs rather common with residents.â She says. âMost of them donât make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.â She smiles at you. âNow my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You wonât hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.âÂ
You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also donât want to be alone.Â
âIâd...like to stay here, if thatâs okay?â You finally say, making your decision.Â
âMore than okay.â She smiles. âMake yourself at home, do whatever youâd like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You wonât bother me in the slightest. Youâre always welcome to hang out in here.âÂ
You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesnât calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit.Â
You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.Â
You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing theyâre not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away.Â
You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know itâs an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents youâve had with them. The most they do is stare, though thatâs to be expected as an omega.Â
What if theyâre holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment.Â
Youâre shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, youâve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller wonât be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope theyâd help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you?Â
Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you donât get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? Itâs not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you?Â
You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No oneâs coming through the door, no oneâs going to try and hurt you.Â
Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday.Â
The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact youâre freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. Youâre still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of Johnâs shirts and sweatpants.Â
You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You wonât sleep, but at least youâre not panicking anymore.Â
The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news.Â
Youâre not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know theyâre all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them.Â
Youâre still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. Youâre exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. Youâre constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling.Â
Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. Itâs a risk youâre well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you.Â
Youâre not sure youâd survive that.Â
Most omegas donât.Â
âStill nothing?â Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least.Â
You shake your head. âNothing.âÂ
âSometimes no news is good news.â She says. âI know youâd prefer to have any news at all, though.âÂ
âI canât stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?â You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard.Â
âKate promised sheâd call if something happened, right?â
You nod. âYeah.âÂ
âSheâs a woman of her word, I can say that much. Iâm sure theyâre fine. Theyâre very capable soldiers. They wouldnât be in Spec Ops if they werenât, much less on a highly specialized team.â Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. âItâs still hard, not knowing where they are or what theyâre doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.â She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. âI still donât think sheâs completely forgiven him. Itâs hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you canât have constant reassurance that theyâre alright.âÂ
Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. âYour mom was an omega?âÂ
She nods. âAnd dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I donât think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.â She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. âCome on, lay down.â She directs you.Â
You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. âIs that why youâre so good at this job?âÂ
She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. âMaybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.â She gently squeezes your arm. âTheyâll be alright. Theyâre probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You donât have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.âÂ
You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. âWhat if I fall asleep and it rings?âÂ
âThen Iâll make sure you get a chance to answer it.â She says, squeezing your arm again. âI promise. Get some rest.âÂ
You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesnât stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if theyâre lying dead somewhere right now? What if somethingâs happened to Kate and she canât tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know?Â
Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps itâs the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Kellerâs couch. You donât mean to, but you canât help it as you begin to drift off to sleep.Â
Screaming. Itâs loud, piercing your ears. Somethingâs holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you donât care.Â
âYou wonât take her from me! I wonât let you!â
Youâre crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you.Â
Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it wonât let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go.Â
You know what will happen if you let go.Â
âSheâs no daughter of mine.âÂ
The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over?Â
Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. Youâre being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your motherâs hold and into the unknown.Â
âEasy, easy.âÂ
Youâre gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you.Â
âDeep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.âÂ
Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest.Â
âYouâre alright, youâre safe.âÂ
You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. Youâre on the couch in Dr. Kellerâs office still. Youâre not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare youâve lived over and over.Â
Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms.Â
âYouâre alright,â Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently.Â
You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch.Â
âHow long have you been having nightmares?â She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself.Â
âSince my heat.â You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly.Â
âYou havenât said anything about it.â She says gently, shifting slightly so sheâs facing you.Â
âI didnât want to.â You say quietly, shame burning through you. Sheâs not reprimanding you, yet you canât help but feel like youâve done something wrong. âI shouldnât be having them, I mean...itâs not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.âÂ
âIt might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing youâve been through.âÂ
Her words give you pause. Youâve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things theyâve seen, the things theyâve done, are far worse than anything youâve experienced. The things youâve experienced may pale in comparison, but theyâre your experiences. No one elseâs.Â
âIf you want to talk about them, thatâs what Iâm here for.â Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do.Â
You donât have to tell her. She wonât force you to do it. She wonât force you to do anything, to say anything you donât want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who wonât tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you.Â
You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. âMy nightmares, theyâre always about the day I left for the institute.â You start, taking a shaky breath. âI havenât had them in years.âÂ
âYou were sent early after your presentation, right?â She asks.Â
âThe day after.â You answer.Â
âBeing sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I canât even imagine what being sent that soon was like.â She lets out a breath. âSometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we donât feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.âÂ
âYou think thatâs whatâs happening?â You ask.Â
âItâs possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why youâre having nightmares about that event suddenly.âÂ
âIs there anything that will make them stop?â You ask.Â
âThereâs some things we can do together that might help the process. Iâm more than happy to help you with it, if thatâs what youâd like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.âÂ
âWhat are we gonna tell John?âÂ
She gives you a look. âWell, Iâd advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, thatâs entirely up to you and what you want to do.âÂ
You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently.Â
âThink about it.â She says. âWe can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.âÂ
Youâre brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before youâre answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadnât even checked the screen to see who was calling. Youâre just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence.Â
âHello?âÂ
Thereâs a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice.Â
âHi, sweetheart.âÂ
You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. âAlpha.â The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing Johnâs voice after so many days.Â
âIâm here. Weâre all here.â He says, distant voices sounding in the background.Â
A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. âMissed you.âÂ
âI know, weâve missed you too.âÂ
You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. âYou alright? Is everyone alright?âÂ
âWeâre alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we havenât had before. How are you holding up?âÂ
The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. Youâve been depressed and worried and there hasnât been a day thatâs gone by that you havenât panicked about something. Youâve been having horrible nightmares and havenât been sleeping. Thereâs an ache in your chest that wonât go away, and youâre afraid it might kill you if you donât see them soon.Â
âIâm alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.âÂ
âI know, sweetheart.â Thereâs a sound on the other end, something you canât make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment youâre worried you were disconnected, but Johnâs voice cuts through the noise again. âWeâre finishing up here soon, and weâll be home in a couple of days.âÂ
You canât help but sigh in relief at his words. Theyâre alright. Theyâre all safe, and theyâre going to be home soon. Youâre going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. âHurry back.â You say, your voice shaky with emotion.Â
âWeâll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but weâll be back before you know it.âÂ
Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe itâs the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing theyâre really alright paired with the knowledge that theyâll be home soon. Two days doesnât seem so far now that you know thatâs all that stands between you and seeing your pack again.Â
You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even Johnâs bed have started to smell more like you.Â
The first thing youâre going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until theyâre the only thing you can smell.Â
For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. Itâs not much, but itâs a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you.Â
You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your packâs imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know theyâre coming home soon. You clean up Johnâs room, making his bed again after youâd made a mess of it trying to sleep. Theyâre all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely wonât be spending much time in it for a while. Youâre going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared.Â
You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes youâd stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. Youâre not expecting a knock yet. Itâs too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her.Â
That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you donât know.Â
Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You donât know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless itâs an emergency. Is there an emergency? Youâre almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. Thereâd be some sign that something was happening, but itâs quiet outside, or at least, thereâs no noises youâre not expecting.Â
The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door.Â
You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They donât, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. Thereâs a soldier outside your door. A woman. You donât recognize her, but then again you donât see many women on the base, and you donât pay much attention to the other soldiers.Â
Maybe you need to start paying more attention.Â
Sheâs a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. Sheâs wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here.Â
She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. âGeneral Shepherd is waiting for you.âÂ
It takes you a moment to process what it is sheâs saying. Youâve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority youâve met is John, but you know heâs only a Captain. Thereâs others above him, but you werenât any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadnât even been given names of anyone higher up than her.Â
Apparently somethingâs changed.Â
Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isnât right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldnât have opened the door so recklessly.Â
âBut, Iâm not supposed to-â You begin, unsure of what to do now.Â
âItâs a direct order from your superior.â The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.
Youâre not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and heâs certainly not behind this.Â
You wouldnât dare say that out loud. Not right now.Â
âOkay, okay.â You say, stepping back slightly from the door. âLet me just get some shoes on.âÂ
You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you donât put it past the woman outside to barge in if you donât hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again.Â
Sheâs still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. Youâre reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost.Â
Youâd take those times back over this right now.Â
Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake youâve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. Youâre not even sure General Shepherd is a real person.Â
The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did?Â
You donât want anyone to get in trouble.Â
Especially not with this being the first time youâve been on your own. Theyâve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while theyâre gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything youâve built by misbehaving.Â
The woman leads you to a building you havenât been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if theyâre testing you to see if youâd just blindly leave with a stranger while theyâre not there to protect you.Â
Youâve made a big mistake.Â
The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. âYour phone.âÂ
You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You donât have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door.Â
Itâs bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. Youâre uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesnât seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. Youâre thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line.Â
Heâs in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all.Â
You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though itâs only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf.Â
No one will hear you scream. No one will care.Â
âMy name is General Shepherd.â He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. âI am the acting commander of Task Force 141.âÂ
Youâre not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though youâve never met him before in your life.Â
âI was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?âÂ
You shake your head. âN-No sir, the CIA didnât give me any names.âÂ
âGood.â His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesnât ease your nerves any. âThey werenât supposed to. Iâm sure youâve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.âÂ
âYes, sir.â You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe.Â
âI came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. Iâm impressed with what Iâve seen so far. Youâre getting along well with them?âÂ
You nod again. âYes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.âÂ
âGood.â He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while youâre so vulnerable. âThe success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. Youâre doing important work here with the Task Force.â His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark.Â
You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you.Â
No one would know. No one would care. Â
âIâm satisfied with what Iâm seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.â He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. âHow have you been adjusting to them being gone?âÂ
âItâs been difficult,â You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. âBut I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.âÂ
His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. âYouâre a smart girl. Thatâs why I chose you for this position. Youâre doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.âÂ
Something about his words donât sit right with you.Â
Youâre trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. Youâre sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside.Â
You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that sheâs breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust thatâs so sacred to packs.Â
She doesn't even seem bothered by it.Â
She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze.Â
âThank you for your cooperation.â She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you.Â
You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words.Â
Sheâs American.Â
âThank you for escorting me.â You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. âHave a safe trip home.âÂ
You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief.Â
Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it.Â
You always close your door. You always ensure itâs shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks.Â
You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. Itâs open. Your door is open.Â
Someone was inside your room.Â
Taglist:
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GHOST, GAZ, & PRICE OPERATOR INTROS | MODERN WARFARE 2019
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I feel like you were a rainbow loom and slime girly....
This is super random I know đđđ
Funny enough, I wasn't...but I wanted to be. Mostly wasn't because my mom wouldn't let me, at least with the slime bit. I had playdough and that was as close as I got. I remember getting a thing of silly putty at school and she took it away as soon as I got home.
I wasn't really a rainbow loom girlie either, but I did do like bead projects and learned how to make those plastic string lanyards at summer camp lol.
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Anon opinion... YOU ARE SUCH A FREAKING TEASE WITH THAT DAMN "I can neither confirm or deny this" GIF
-đââŹđȘ
Oh you mean this one?
Y'all are gonna get so sick of seeing this man's face đ€
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reblog this if you want anonymous opinions of you
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Have you considered making your fic a book? Because no joke, I would buy the shit outta it
-lots of loveđ
Like...turn it into an original story and publish it?? That would take a lot of work (not to mention I'd have to delete this version if I did đ
)
I do have an idea for an original story that I might write someday, but writing is hard and I keep getting fanfic ideas so đ
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I just saw the last ask about tag lists, and I have no idea why I didnât even think about asking that đ Can I be added to your tag list for CRCB?
(If its full pls spare me the shame and not post this lmao)
Of course!! I'll add you to the list!! đ
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Hi!! Can I be added to your 'Cherry red, Crimson blood' tag list? I've been reading for a while but we have majorly different time zones so it's hard to find out when you're going to update!!
Hi!!! Of course!!! I know I have several followers and readers across the Pacific, and it can get hard with figuring out the difference in days and times đđ
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I like licking paper
Fascinating đ€ do you have a preferred paper to lick? Like notebook paper versus printer paper versus cardstock versus cartridge paper? Does it come down to mouth feel, or flavor, or maybe both? Does paper with ink printed or writing on it change the flavor? I can't imagine it would taste very good. If you lick printer paper, does the ink come off on your tongue? I'm so fascinated and have so many questions. I ate a piece of notebook paper in high school on a dare, and it was rather unpleasant, though I'd imagine just licking it would be a much more enjoyable experience.
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I donât know if anyone asked, but I canât stop myself from being curious. Will the reader get a mark from Ghost too?
That has been asked a few times, but unfortunately I must answer in the same way I did all the times before:
You'll just have to wait and see!!
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update on my throat:
I took about 4 medicines including a grainy one and I already hate that consistency
I've got a cold and my room is full of handkerchiefs (If it's written like that I have no idea)
I have a headache
and if I sneeze I start coughing
End of update
I CAN'T WAIT FOR TOMMOROWWWW AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LIKE I WILL BE SPAM RECHARGING MY TUMBRL SJJSJSKAKKA AAAAAA
Nooo colds are the worst đ I mean, being sick in general sucks but there's just something about having a cold that pisses me off so bad.
Hehe yeah, chapter 18 is a good one, I'll say. It's definitely up there on my list of favorite chapters.
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Aww!!! đ„č Thank you!!! I'm so happy to hear that you're enjoying it!!! đđ
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 7 : Sweet Strawberry
Summary: You're not a soldier, you're just an omega. You shouldn't have to remind them of that, yet you find yourself needing to. Price makes it up to you in the best way possible.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, fluff, suggestive content, terrible flirting
A/N: Not entirely happy with it but it's done and I can move on from this one. I struggled so much with this chapter omg. Also, I just wanted to make it clear that I am not from the UK, I've never been to the UK, I'm simply going off of prior knowledge and what Google can tell me. So, if there's any inaccuracies, I am so sorry.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
Youâre expecting the knock when it comes. Youâd been standing in front of your door for almost five minutes, and you get it open almost before heâs finished, hand still raised. He gives no sign that betrays his surprise, if he feels any at all, instead he simply looks you over before turning on his heel and marching towards the door.Â
You close your door behind you, slipping down the hallway after him. Itâs raining again, though you had prepared for that, flipping the hood of your jacket up as you hurry after Ghost. He threatens to disappear in the darkness of morning, slipping between the street lamps like a specter. Itâs not often you get to see the true danger in them, the threats that they pose, the things that make them good at their job. You can imagine how many on his opposing side have been caught unawares by the way he seems to flow with the darkness around him.Â
You are significantly less graceful and quiet, feet slapping the wet pavement as you speed walk to keep up with the giant alpha. You can almost imagine the look on his face as you plod along behind him. If your lives depended on your silence at this moment, well, it wouldnât entirely have been your fault. If he didnât walk so fucking fast...
Heâs at least courteous enough to hold the door open for you, though perhaps that was simply something that was deeply ingrained in him. Manners that become unconscious practice, even when you despise the person youâre with. He leads you down the hall towards the practice room again, unlocking it and flipping on the lights. He empties his pockets and removes his shoes and sweatshirt, before moving to one of the punching bags.Â
You can already predict what your lesson today will entail. Your knuckles have almost completely healed since your little fit a week ago. You quickly strip off your jacket and toe off your wet shoes, moving to join him without having to be told.Â
âDo you know how to wrap your hands?â He asks, holding out two rolls of hand wraps.Â
âNo.â You shake your head. Itâs not entirely true. They had shown you once while you were with the CIA, but that had been weeks ago and youâre sure youâve forgotten the right way to do it. Even if you tried, heâd likely sigh and do it himself anyway.Â
He lets out a breath, pocketing one of the wraps before grabbing your right wrist. His hands are just as rough as you remember them being the day you punched Corporal Allen, calluses dragging against your skin as he meticulously wraps the fabric around your fingers. You watch him, trying to memorize how to do it in hopes that maybe, eventually, youâll surprise him and manage it yourself.Â
He finishes your hands quickly before wrapping his own. You flex your hands, trying to get used to the feeling of the wraps. Theyâre not too tight, shockingly. You had half expected him to choke your fingers until theyâre purple just because. But, you also know Price will be looking for any mark or sign of injury as soon as he sees you at breakfast. The thought of him laying into Ghost for even a bruise as your stomach twisting, and not in a bad way.Â
âMake a fist.â Ghost says, crossing his arms as he stands in front of you.Â
You stare at his bulging muscles for a second too long, quickly curling your fingers as your face warms.Â
He takes hold of your hand, inspecting your fist. âNot bad.âÂ
âI did grow up with brothers.â You murmur.Â
âDid they ever hit you?â He asks as he turns you to face the boxing bag.Â
âOnly playfully.â You say, missing the subtle edge to his voice. âDad would have caved their heads in if they ever tried.âÂ
You canât see the way heâs staring at you as he stands slightly behind you, but you can feel his gaze as it lingers for just a second longer than you expected it to. Youâre not sure if maybe he doesnât believe you, or maybe he knows thereâs more to the story. Youâve hardly spoken about your family since your arrival, but they seemed to accept the fact that they havenât been your family for years now as a valid reason.
âGet into your fighting stance.â He finally says, moving around you as you take the stance you had perfected last training session. âGood.â He says, looking you over. âNow throw a punch at the bag.âÂ
You squeeze your fists, imagining Corporal Allenâs face on the bag before you throw a punch, barely managing to move the bag.Â
âPunches like that are what will get you hurt.â Ghost says, extending your arm. âYou can throw your weight, which is good. Thatâs why you were able to throw Allen off his feet. Youâre asking for a broken arm, though. Keep your arm flat and facing downwards through the entire punch. Aim with the knuckles and twist your lower body for support.âÂ
He throws a punch at the bag, the sound of his fist hitting it loud, and you watch the bag swing back and forth violently. He could probably punch through you if he wanted to. Your pitiful punch wouldnât even stun him.Â
He stops the bag from swinging, having you throw repeated punches at it. He fixes your form and technique as you go, teaching you different kinds of punches. Your arms quickly get tired, and you know youâre going to be sore again. Maybe you should take up some weight lifting or something. You could ask Soap to help you.Â
You go until your arms feel like they're going to fall off, your shoulders burning. âI can't anymore.â You whine, breathing heavily from the exertion of throwing punches for 30 minutes.Â
âYou have to learn to push through the pain.â He says, looming over you. âYou think in a fight, everyone will just stop because your arms are tired? Or you're a little sore?â
He has a point.Â
You take half a step back as he invades your space, leaning down close to you. âIf they're out for blood, they won't even stop even as you're bleeding out in front of them.â His eyes are dark, biting into you, speaking volumes of his knowledge and experience. You wonder how many times he's been in that situation, how many times he's had to fight quite literally for his life. He steps away from you, moving towards the center of the mat. âCome on. I'll teach you some combinations.âÂ
You don't want to follow him. You want to curl up in a corner and nap for the next four hours. You don't doubt he'll find a way to force you, though, so you move to the center of the mat with a sigh.Â
He teaches you different combinations, working through them over and over. You're sloppy, mixing up which punch is which, which move means what. It only gets worse as you get more and more tired, but Ghost is relentless.Â
Finally after almost an hour and a half of training, he calls it. Your legs are shaking and you can barely lift your arms to unravel the wraps from around your hands. You sink onto the floor, laying out flat on the padding as you try to catch your breath.Â
âCome on.â Ghost says, lacing up his shoes. âYou'll have time to shower before breakfast if we get back now.â
âWait. Just gimme a minute.â You breathe, not even sure you have the willpower to get up from the floor, much less the muscle power.Â
He lets out a sigh before approaching you, bending down to slip his hands under your arms. âOn your feet, soldier.â
He lifts you easily, far too easily. Your legs shake, nearly giving out as you're forced onto them. You pout, ignoring the ache in your bones as you're forced upright.Â
ââM not a soldier.â You murmur.Â
âIn here with me, you are. You want to learn to fight, you get treated just like everyone else I've taught.â He says, glowering down at you. âNow get your shoes on and let's go.â
Your brows pull into a frown, but you do as he says, slipping your shoes back on and your jacket. You had hoped perhaps he would have a little mercy, given your status and inexperience, but it seems you're not even being awarded that. You know part of it is his revenge for you invading his protective circle around Soap, for kissing Soap in front of him.Â
The frown doesn't leave your face as you follow him back to the barracks, having to almost run to keep up with him.Â
âYou look tired.â
âI am. I had training with Ghost again this morning.âÂ
âHow is that going?â
âIt's hard.â You admit, sinking back in your chair. âHe's hard on me. He sees me as a soldier, not an omega.â
âHave you brought this up to him?â Dr. Keller asks, crossing her feet as she relaxes on the couch across from you.
You nod. âYeah. He said I have to push through it, because if I wind up in a real fight, they won't go easy on me.â
âWell, I canât say heâs wrong about that. But, thatâs still no excuse.â Dr. Keller tilts her head at you. âYou could bring it up to Captain Price. He is your pack alpha, and heâs also Lieutenant Rileyâs. I donât doubt heâd bring it up to him on your behalf.âÂ
He would, but you donât really want to stir the pot in that way. The last thing you need to do is become a tattle-tail. Itâs quiet between you for a few moments, Dr. Keller shuffling her papers as you mark a clear end to that conversation.Â
âHow did you do on your assignment? I see youâre wearing a different sweatshirt this morning.â She says, eyeing you.Â
Youâre wearing Priceâs sweatshirt, the one he gifted you. Youâve been wearing it almost every day, his scent still clinging to the fabric. Your face warms as she stares at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. âYeah, but...I didnât ask for this one. Price gave it to me after I told him about where my other one came from. I uh...I kissed Soap. And Gaz.âÂ
âOh?â Her brows raise, and she writes something down on the paper. Your face warms even more as you watch her pen move with every letter. You can only imagine what sheâs putting down. âIs that something you wanted? I know we talked briefly about it last time.â She says.
You nod. âYes. I did want it. I...I also...kneeled...with Price...Did a couple times actually...âÂ
Dr. Kellerâs mouth opens in surprise, her eyes shining as she looks at you. âYou did? Thatâs huge! Thatâs an incredible development! Did you initiate, or did he?âÂ
âI did.â You say bashfully, sinking back further into the chair. âBoth times.âÂ
Dr. Keller smiles at you, looking almost proud. âThis is a big step in the right direction. How did it go? Were you able to relax?âÂ
You nod. âYeah. It was nice. He was...gentle. He did it right.âÂ
âGood. How did you do coming down from it? I know it can be intense and difficult for some omegas.â She asks.Â
You shrug. âFine. I felt it a bit the morning after, but it wasnât too bad. I fell asleep on him both times.âÂ
âOh?â She lifts an eyebrow. âDid you stay with him?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo, Gaz took me to my room both times.âÂ
âGood. Thatâs good practice, for when your heat comes. Shows how much trust they have in each other.â
You hadnât really thought of that. There was a lot of trust involved in omegaâs heats. Omegas have to trust their alphas to take care of them while theyâre blind with insatiable need, but both alpha and omega have to trust a beta to keep them alive. Your heat will trigger Priceâs rut and make him lose control for a while, and it will be up to Gaz to keep you both fed and hydrated. Heâll be the one to help you both afterwards as well.
âHave you started nesting yet?â Dr. Keller asks.Â
You shake your head. âNo. Donât feel any drive to either.âÂ
Dr. Keller hums as she writes something down. âWell, it has only been two weeks. Though, perhaps if you can manage to ask for some things to make your space more comfortable, that might help ease you into it.âÂ
You chew on your lip, tugging at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You know sheâs right. Until youâre comfortable and feel safe enough, you wonât feel the drive to nest. Youâll need to nest before your heat arrives. Otherwise, itâll cause issues for both you and Price.Â
âWhen...when should I be worried?â You ask.Â
âHmm...â Dr. Keller looks at her calendar. âIf youâre not feeling any sort of drive to nest by our next appointment, then Iâd say we may need to consider using some exercises to help jump start it.âÂ
âExercises?â You ask warily.Â
âAll easy things.â She reassures you. âThings like scent introductions, tactile explorations, and some bonding exercises might be helpful as well.â She writes something down on a sticky note. âIâll explain everything in detail and youâll get to choose whether you want to do any of it or not. No oneâs going to force you to do anything youâre not comfortable with, alright?âÂ
Tears prick your eyes at her words, and you furiously blink them back. Itâs a little late for that kind of sentiment. Your presence here alone was thanks to a long line of people forcing you to do things youâre not comfortable with. It was easy to get lost in the excitement and the emotions of bonding with a pack, easy to forget that you would never have chosen this place had you ever been given the option to choose.Â
You would have gone far from the military, far from this kind of life. Itâs your duty to bond with an alpha, but what if you donât want to? What if itâs all a front, and as soon as youâre claimed the curtains rise and suddenly everything is different? What if Price isnât as kind as youâve come to believe him? Just one squeeze too tightly around the back of your neck while youâre kneeling and everything would change.Â
How easily he could take everything from you.Â
âYou want to talk about whatâs going on in your head right now?â Dr. Keller asks, breaking the silence between you two.
You hadnât even noticed youâd been staring off into space, lost in your thoughts. Of course she knows somethingâs changed. Sheâs spent years learning the ins and outs of omegas and all the secrets you can only imagine. Sheâs probably just as in tune with subtle changes as the four well trained soldiers that make up your new pack. Maybe even more in tune with them.Â
You shake your head, keeping your gaze on the floor.Â
âRemember nothing shared in this room leaves this room. Itâll always only be between us.â She says softly.Â
Youâre panicking. You can feel the pressure rising within you. Youâre like a grenade and someone is about to pull the pin. Youâre afraid youâll spill everything to her, afraid youâll let out things youâve successfully kept buried for years and years. Things youâve left behind, things youâve had to move on from. Things you canât afford to let out now.Â
âIâd like to be done now.â You silently curse the way your voice shakes.Â
Dr. Kellerâs brows pull into a frown but she nods. âOkay.â She slips her papers into her notebook before standing. âLet me grab my keys.âÂ
You stand as she moves to her desk, grabbing her keys from the drawer. She leads you from her office, thankfully staying quiet as you walk through the rain towards the barracks. Youâre still panicking, the turmoil inside you probably projecting the sour scent across the entire courtyard but you donât care. You canât.Â
âRemember, if you ever need anything, Iâm usually in my office.â Dr. Keller says as she drops you off at the door.Â
You feel guilty as you hurry to your room, shoes squeaking on the tile. You feel bad for cutting the appointment off early, you feel bad for feeling the way you do. Later youâll be grateful for Dr. Keller respecting your boundaries and not pushing, for following through with her promise and letting you be in control of the appointment.Â
Right now you donât care. Right now you canât care. Youâre too lost in your turmoil, the bitter scent of your distress seeping out from under the locked door.Â
â...can ye talk tae me, hen? Let me know yer alright?âÂ
The soft voice coming through the closed door pulls you out from your burrow under the thin blanket. You blink blearily at your phone, trying to see the time. Itâs just a little past the normal time you go to lunch with them. How long have they been knocking on the door?Â
âCome on, lass.â Soapâs voice comes through the door again. âI dinnae want tae have tae kick in the door.âÂ
You force yourself out from under the blanket, pocketing your phone before quickly moving to your door. You throw it open, Soapâs eyes immediately scanning you as you rub tiredly at your eyes. You donât doubt heâd kick in your door if he felt he had to.Â
âSorry,â You yawn. âI was asleep.âÂ
His eyebrows raise as he stares down at you. âYe were asleep? Ye werenât kidding about beinâ a heavy sleeper.â He leads you from the barracks, crossing the courtyard towards the mess.
âOne time, when I was about two or three, my dad took us to some demonstration on base.â You say as you begin walking to the mess with him. âI fell asleep about halfway through and slept through a howitzer going off.âÂ
Soap lets out a laugh so loud it echoes in the courtyard. âYe slept through a howitzer?âÂ
You nod. âYup. My dad never let me live it down. I heard it all the time. âYouâll have to try hard to wake her, she slept through a howitzer once.ââÂ
Soap chuckles, leading you into the mess. âYe are a deep sleeper.âÂ
You shrug. âI did say so. My phone will wake me up though. Alarms, calls.âÂ
âIâll keep thaâ in mind.â He says as he guides you through the line, making your tray for you.Â
You sit between Price and Gaz as usual, feeling a bit on edge still despite your nap after your appointment. You hadnât gotten to sleep for very long, not nearly long enough to clear your head completely. You know they can tell, Gaz slowly shifting closer and closer to you, Priceâs gaze flickering to you out of the corner of his eye every so often. Even Ghostâs eyes pass over you every so often as they sweep across the mess.Â
You wonder if he feels responsible.Â
You hope he does.Â
Soap walks you back to the barracks after lunch and you spend the afternoon burrowed under your blanket again. Youâre exhausted and sore after a long morning of training and your appointment. You wish you could sink back into sleep, let the emotions pass without you having to feel them, but youâre too awake now. Too aware of them as they prickle in the back of your mind.Â
Dinner passes without incident, but you canât ignore the feelings still stirring within you. You feel agitated and on edge, not even pacing your room helping you. You let out a breath before you put your slippers on, slipping out of your door. You make your way down the hallway, turning right instead of left like you would if you were heading for the rec room. The door is cracked open and you pause just before you reach it, suddenly feeling nervous. You shouldnât really. There was no reason to be nervous, yet you canât help the urge in the back of your mind to turn tail and race back down the hallway to the safety of your room.Â
âYou can come in, unless youâd prefer standing in the hallway all evening.â A voice calls from inside the office.Â
Your face warms a bit at getting caught, but he could probably hear you coming down the hallway. He could probably smell you too.Â
You push open the door, slipping inside before closing it behind you. Price stares at you from his desk as you stand there, shifting nervously on your feet. You feel agitated, on edge still. Youâre worked up, and you donât quite know why.Â
âEverything alright?â Price asks, likely picking up on your nervous energy.Â
Yes. You want to say, but then youâd have to come up with a reason as to why you sought him out, why you feel so worked up. You could just kneel for him. Itâs what you should do, let yourself be eased into a peaceful state of mind. Let him take care of you.Â
 âI donât know.âÂ
The words are hardly more than a whisper, your voice trembling just as much as you are. Your chest feels tight, your breaths becoming shallow. You're not sure when he got up, when he even moved. His scent wraps around you, warmth encompassing your being as your face is pushed against his chest.Â
âI need you to breathe for me.â Price says, pressing your ear against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart, the air flowing in and out of his lungs.Â
You close your eyes, trying to match your breaths to his. It's hard, your body fighting your attempt to regulate it. You close your eyes, focusing on the soft fabric of Price's shirt against your cheek, the warmth of his hand on your head as he keeps you pinned against his chest. It's not constricting or suffocating. It's grounding, keeping you from drowning in your own thoughts.Â
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to as he holds you there, letting you calm down. You begin to slowly relax, your arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt.Â
âWant to tell me whatâs going on?â He murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head.Â
âI donât know.â You whisper, still clinging to his shirt. âIâm just...I feel off. Ghost was being hard on me this morning and then I got upset during my appointment and Iâve just felt on edge all day and I canât relax because I canât get comfortable!âÂ
Price tightens his grip around you just slightly. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
You huff out a breath, squeezing your eyes closed so the tears donât escape as the words leave you in a flood before you can stop them. âThe blankets arenât soft enough and the pillows are too thin and itâs too dark and Iâm tired of smelling like bland soap!âÂ
Price hums quietly, squeezing you gently as a tear slides down your cheek. âThen we should do something to fix that.âÂ
âBut I shouldnât need it!â You cry, trying to push away from him, but he keeps you tight against his chest. âIâm supposed to be a good omega and adapt and learn to be comfortable where I am.âÂ
âThat might be what you were taught,â He says, letting you push away from his chest, but he wraps his hands around your arms, keeping you in front of him. âBut things donât have to be that way. We should have taken care of something like this sooner. Iâm sorry I didnât even think of it. You shouldnât have had to ask for it.âÂ
You blink up at him, genuinely surprised by his words. âI...what?âÂ
âWe all have our own little comforts that we keep. Soap sleeps with a stuffed bear. Donât tell him I told you that.âÂ
A small smile tugs at your lips at the mental image of Soap snuggling up with a teddy bear.Â
âYou deserve some comfort too.â He says, squeezing your arms.
âBut, itâs not...regulation.â You say.Â
âDoesnât have to be.â He says. âYouâre not a soldier. Even then, the only ones going in there are us. The only thing I canât approve of is painting the walls. Unfortunately the prison grey has to stay.âÂ
You canât help but laugh, wiping the tear from your cheek. âI suppose thatâs alright. Just...as long as itâs not as dark and maybe a soft blanket or something. Thatâs really all I need.âÂ
He hums, staring down at you. You canât quite figure out the look on his face, something shining in his eyes. âWeâll get it figured out.â He says, squeezing your arms again.Â
âGet some shoes on. Weâre going on a trip.âÂ
You look up from your book, staring at Price as he stands in the rec room. Heâs dressed in civilian clothes, arms crossed as he stares down at you on the couch. You mark your place in your book, pushing yourself up to sit. Itâs a Saturday afternoon, and unlike last week they had the day off, which means you do as well.Â
âAre you going to make me hike through the woods for two hours again, sir?â You ask, pushing yourself up to stand.Â
âNo. Weâre going into town.â He says.Â
You blink at him. You havenât been off base since you arrived, and you figured you probably wouldnât be getting that opportunity any time soon. âCan I ask why, sir?âÂ
âWeâve got some shopping to do.â He says simply, turning and leaving the rec room.Â
You stand there shocked for a moment before youâre following after him, slipping into your room to put comfortable shoes on and grab your phone and a jacket. You donât even have a wallet to carry around to make yourself feel better.Â
Price is waiting by the door for you, a car parked outside. Youâre slow to approach him, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions. Heâs doing this for you. Heâd really taken your conversation last night to heart and now heâs going to go spend money on you that he doesnât need to.Â
âWhatâs that look for sweetheart?â He asks, standing in front of the door.Â
âYou donât have to do this.â You say, staring up at him. He seems so tall like this, so...imposing.Â
âCourse I do.â He says, his gaze softening just slightly. âShould have done it sooner. You deserve to be comfortable too.â He says, turning to open the door.Â
You follow him out, climbing into the car when he opens the door for you. He gets in the driverâs seat, the car rumbling to life. He drives to the front gate, passing off two ID cards to the guards. He passes one to you when the guard hands them back, the gate in front of you opening.Â
âThatâs your ID card. Gets you on and off base.â He explains as he drives away from the gate. âI doubt youâll be leaving on your own, but just in case.âÂ
âThank you, sir.â You say, slipping the card under your phone case for the time being.Â
He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. âYou can call me John, if you'd like. You don't need to be formal when we're in private.âÂ
âYes, sir.â You make a face, biting your lip at your automatic response. âSorry. Old habits.âÂ
âFrom the institute?â He asks.Â
You shake your head. âMy dad, actually. He was a firm believer in respecting authority figures. All âyes, sirâ and âno, sirâ by the time we were old enough to know the difference.âÂ
âSounds like my father.â He says, staring out at the road ahead. âOld grizzled military man.âÂ
âDo you still have contact with him?â You ask curiously. You donât know much of anything about their families, their backgrounds.
âNot really. Beyond holidays, neither of us really make an effort to talk to the other. After mum passed, there wasnât much to talk about.â He says.Â
âShe was the glue.â You say, watching the trees pass by the car.Â
âYeah.â He huffs out a laugh. âAs betas usually are.â
âDo you have any siblings?â You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. You know next to nothing about them, while they likely know your entire life story.Â
âNo,â He shakes his head. âJust me. You have a lot of siblings.âÂ
You nod. âSeven at the time I left for the institute. Could be more now.âÂ
âThey never tried to keep contact with you?â He asks.Â
âNope.â You turn to look out the window. âThe institute didnât really encourage it either, because we were being prepared to join new packs. Thatâs hard to do when you still have bonds with your old ones. I think they might have forcibly ended some. I know there were some omegas that tried to keep contact, but it became less and less until eventually it just stopped.âÂ
Priceâs hands tighten around the steering wheel just slightly. You wouldnât have noticed if you hadnât been paying attention. Silence settles in the car as he drives, farmlands passing until the houses start getting closer and closer together. You stare at the buildings as he drives through town, a blend of historical and modern.Â
âItâs beautiful here.â You say, watching people and cars pass by.Â
âI suppose so.â He says, glancing at you. âI grew up in this area.âÂ
You turn to look at him. âYou did? I didnât know that. Then again, I donât know much about any of you.âÂ
âYou can ask us, you know.â He says. âWe donât have to be that secretive with you. At least not about ourselves.âÂ
He pulls into a parking lot, opening your door for you and helping you out of the car. You slip your hand into his, holding it as you cross the parking lot. You stare up at the store. ASDA. Youâve never heard of it before, though you suppose the stores would be different here too.Â
Price drops your hand to grab a cart, the store bustling with people. You hang onto the edge of the cart, staying close to Priceâs side. âWeâre here for you.â He says, guiding you through the aisles. âGet whatever you want.âÂ
Heâs led you to the homegoods section, your eyes widening at the entire aisle of blankets and bedding in front of you. You try to take it all in, but you feel a bit overwhelmed. Thereâs so many choices, so many options.Â
âPick out as many as you want. Donât worry about the price.â He says, before you can protest. âWe get paid decently, but donât have many chances to use it. Let me do this for you.âÂ
You stare up into his eyes, the sincerity in them, before you nod, turning back to the wall of blankets before you. You study them, running your hand along them to find the softest ones, doing as he says and ignoring the price tags. You settle on a couple soft ones, grabbing a throw blanket as well that you can pack around to the rec room if you want to. He takes you to the pillow aisle, and you settle on a pair of fluffy pillows, as well as a couple decorative ones as well.Â
âHere.â He slips a big plush strawberry into your arms before you leave the aisle, your cheeks warming as you look at it. âMakes me think of you.âÂ
You preen at his words, holding onto the strawberry as you make for the lamps and nightlights, settling on a cat shaped one that will sit on your desk and changes colors. You pick up a few other items before heading for the toiletries, finally setting the strawberry in the cart as you zero in on the soaps and body washes. You smell all the strawberry scented ones, trying to find the perfect one.Â
âWhy strawberry?â Price asks as you put a strawberries and cream scented body wash in the cart.Â
âCompliments my scent.â You explain as he leads you to the shampoo and conditioner. âWe had a scent specialist come to the institute one time as an activity. We all figured out what our scents smell like and what notes compliment them the best.âÂ
An arm wraps around your waist before you can look at the shampoo, pulling you back against a broad chest. Priceâs nose presses into your neck and he inhales deeply. He lets out a content hum, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. âI think youâre right.âÂ
Your face burns hot as he presses a gentle kiss against the side of your neck before releasing you. You stand there for a moment, trying to calm the heat rushing through your body and focus on the shampoo. You hear him chuckle as you shuffle forward, your face still burning as you smell the shampoo bottles.Â
You settle on one, holding onto Priceâs arm as you continue around the store, picking up a few other items and a couple for himself as well before heading to the checkout.Â
You hold on to Priceâs arm as you leave the store, sticking close to him as he loads the bags into the trunk. You can feel the slight tension in his body, the way his eyes scan the parking lot every few seconds. You canât even begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to relax, especially out in public. How fast his mind has to be running, how alert he is to everyone and everything. A threat could come out of nowhere, could come from anyone.Â
It must be exhausting.Â
âHungry, sweetheart?â He asks as he buckles his seatbelt.Â
âAlways.â You answer, leaning on the center console.
He smiles. âWhat are you in the mood for?âÂ
You blink at him. Most of the restaurants you know probably donât exist in England. âFish and chips?â You offer, pulling up the one British food youâre confident in naming.Â
âFish and chips it is.â He says, turning on the car.Â
âI have yet to have real fish and chips.â You say, settling into the passenger seat.Â
âWell, I know the perfect place.â He says, pulling out of the parking lot.Â
You donât have to go far before heâs parking on the street and helping you out of the car. His hand settles on your lower back, guiding you down the street to a fish and chips shop.Â
It's too early for the dinner rush, the shop mostly empty and quiet. Price orders for you before guiding you to a table, and you let him sit facing the door and front window. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. They seem so relaxed on base, though you suppose that's the place they feel the most comfortable. You can't even imagine the kinds of things they've seen, the horrors they've been subjected to.Â
You don't want to think about the things they've done.Â
Your eyes snap downwards as Price's hand slides across the table, closing around yours. You don't want to think about the things he's done with those hands. The lives he's taken, the people he's tortured. Will he ever turn those hands on you?Â
They've given you no reason to fear them yet. They've all been kind, polite. Even Ghost hasn't truly given you a reason to fear him, despite his obvious disapproval and hard exterior.Â
You know nothing about them.Â
You've known them for just over two weeks. You can't possibly have any understanding of who they are, how they express their emotions. What if they get upset? What happens when they get angry? What if you anger them?
âI know this hasnât been easy for you. Any of it.â Price says, drawing you from your worried thoughts. âI know you were taught to expect this, perhaps not this exact situation, but something like this. Being sent off to some strange alpha to join their pack, bonding with complete strangers. None of us were expecting this either. Itâs been an adjustment in a lot of ways, but I want you to know that weâll take care of you. You need anything, you tell us. You want anything, weâll do our best to make it happen. Weâll keep you safe.â He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. âI promise you that.âÂ
You want to believe him. You really do. They havenât given you any reason to not believe it.Â
Itâs only been two weeks.Â
You continue to talk with him as you eat, making light conversation, getting to know him a bit more. Despite the trickling uncertainty in the back of your mind, it feels good. It feels like a date, something you had dreamed of before you presented, something you had imagined happening when you finally got old enough to start looking for potential mates and packs.Â
Of course, back then, you had thought youâd be an alpha.Â
It had been expected of you.Â
Price has his arm wrapped around you as you walk back to the car, his hand on your hip. Itâs possessive almost, and it makes your stomach flutter. Price is the only one you havenât kissed yet, well, besides Ghost, but youâre certain youâd wind up through a wall if you even thought of trying. Itâs almost ironic that Price would be the last, considering heâs going to be the one claiming you, the one you spend your heat with.Â
You stare out the window as the buildings fade into farmlands again. The sun is setting, painting the world in oranges and reds. You still feel a bit warm from Priceâs possessive hold on you, his teasing in the store. You can still feel the tickle of his beard on your skin, his lips pressing against your neck.Â
You jump when rough fingers trail down your arm, pulling it from where it had been resting in your lap.Â
âYou were right.â Price says as he lifts your hand to his face, pressing his nose against your wrist and inhaling for a moment. âStrawberries are the strongest note in your scent.â He lowers your hand again, lacing your fingers together. âWhatâs got you all worked up over there.âÂ
You stare at him, your face getting warm again. Of course he can smell it. You can smell the muskiness beginning to form around the edges of his scent. Desire. âYou havenât kissed me yet.â You say, moving his hand into your lap. âYou're the only one that hasn't...well, besides Ghost.â
He huffs out a quiet laugh. âYou sound disappointed.âÂ
You untangle your fingers with his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. âWhat if I am?â
His fingers flex against your leg, the muskiness of his scent strengthening. âThen maybe we should fix that.âÂ
The cocktail of scents in the car is intoxicating, and you feel bad for the poor beta soldier at the gate when Price rolls down the window to hand off your IDs.Â
Price is out of the car as soon as it's parked, moving around to your side to open the door. He pins you against the side of the car as soon as you're out, caging you in with his arms.Â
You stare up at him, head swimming with the musk laced in his scent. You can see his eyes shining in the light next to the door of the barracks. He looks like a hungry wolf, the back of your neck prickling with excitement.Â
He leans down, breath fanning your face as he gets closer and closer to you. You press yourself against him, hands gripping his shoulders as he presses his lips to yours. His lips are surprisingly soft, his beard tickling your face. He growls quietly against your lips, pushing you harder against the side of the car.Â
You let out a quiet sound in response, hands gripping his jacket. His hands slide from the car to your sides, sliding down to grip your hips. You can feel the muscle hidden beneath his jacket and shirt, the strength that he possesses. He may not be purebred like Ghost, but heâs still every inch an alpha.Â
You let out another quiet sound as he pulls away, pressing a caste kiss to the corner of your lips. âBloody hell, now I know what those boys were on about.â He breathes, leaning his forehead against yours.Â
âThey were talking about me?â You ask, pulling back slightly.Â
âOnly good things.â Price grins, leaning down to kiss you again. âSweet as sugar.â He breathes, kissing you again. âAnd just as addicting.â He pulls away from you, his hands resting on your waist. âWe should get your stuff inside so you can get it all set up. Want me to fetch one of the boys to help?âÂ
You bite your lip. âOr you could just do it.âÂ
He stares down at you, something flashing across his face but you canât quite make it out in the low light. âYouâre sure?â His voice is quiet, taking on that soft tone it often does when he speaks to you.Â
âYouâll have to eventually.â You shrug. âMight as well start now.âÂ
He leans down, kissing you again before pulling away, opening up the trunk. He grabs most of the bags, only leaving the pillows for you to grab before he leads the way into the barracks. You open your door, stepping in first before he follows. You dump your pillows on the bed, and he sets the rest of the bags on your desk.Â
âBlankets in the wash.â You say, digging them out of the bags, pulling the tags off.Â
âIâll take them.â He says, fishing out his stuff from the bags before taking the blankets from you.Â
You switch out your pillows for the softer ones, organizing the decorative ones just the way you want. You squish the strawberry to your chest again, a smile forming on your face before you flop back onto the bed, sinking into the soft pillows. Itâs almost perfect, you think.Â
âComfortable?â Priceâs voice rumbles in the doorway, a smile on his face as he stares at you.Â
âMuch better.â You say, sitting up and placing the strawberry in its place.Â
The two of you finish taking everything out of the bags, decorating the rest of your room. The posters on the walls, and the nightlight on your desk. It feels far more homey already, and you know youâre going to sleep well tonight once the blankets are out of the wash.Â
âThank you.â You say, looking up at Price. âThis really means a lot.âÂ
âAll in a dayâs work, love.â He says, pulling you into his arms again.Â
You lean against his chest, resting your head over his heart, listening to it beat steadily against your ear.Â
You wake up suddenly, yet youâre not quite sure why. Thereâs no one in your room, your new nightlight easily showing you that. Your mouth is dry, but thereâs a line of wetness down your chin. You reach across your nightstand, your phone illuminating the time.Â
Just past one a.m.Â
You smack your lips, feeling thirsty after the excitement of the day. Youâd forgotten to grab water when you left the rec room and you huff out a sigh. You donât want to get up, but now that youâre aware youâre thirsty, thereâs no stopping those thoughts.Â
You donât even bother with slippers as you pad to the door, opening it up. You leave it cracked as you sleepily shuffle towards the rec room, the barracks almost dead quiet this late. You grab a bottle from the fridge, unscrewing the top before drinking a few gulps. Itâs cold and tastes divine, soothing the dryness of your mouth. You screw the top back on, closing the fridge before heading back towards your room.Â
You turn the corner, still half asleep, nearly yelping as you slam into a chest. You stumble back a couple steps, staring up at the covered face looming over you. You gulp, holding the bottle to your chest.Â
âS-Sorry.â You stutter.Â
âYouâre out of bed.â He says quietly, voice rumbling in the silence.Â
âThirsty.â Itâs all you can manage as you hold up the bottle.Â
He stares at you for a long moment, eyes flickering all over your face. His chest is heaving, almost as if he had been running before you ran into him. His hands are closed into fists at his sides, knuckles almost white with how tense he is. You think for a moment he might be mad, but you canât catch any whiff of ozone in the air. Your nose prickles at the scent, but itâs not anger.Â
Your tired brain canât make sense of it, yearning to sink back into the softness of your bed again. You slowly shuffle around him, taking cautious steps, waiting for him to reach out and stop you, but he doesnât. He simply watches you go, standing there in the hallway as you slip back into your room, not moving until he hears the click of your lock slipping into place.Â
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Is... Dr keller.... related to........ Alex keller?????
Also I may or may not have accidentally sent this to @sprout-fics thinking it was you lmao.....
Yes she is!!! He's the big brother she talked about who went into the military in chapter 17 (since Alex was Delta Force before he joined the CIA). He's also mentioned very briefly in a previous chapter, though I cannot for the life of me remember which exactly off the top of my head đ
I did see that, someone reblogged and tagged me. All good, there's a lot of us writers and it can be hard to remember what story belongs to who đ€ I'm really bad with remembering blog names though, so that might just be me.
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