He's athletic. He's been working out one way or another for every sport he's ever played. And, thanks to his dad's high expectations of him, that's a lot of sports.

Post-S2 concussion his coaches drop him one by one, calling him a liability at best or a glorified bench warmer at worst.

Sports were his stress relief. Basketball, swimming, baseball-- he needs the release. Can't function without it.

So he takes up running.

He runs until he's sick, light-headed, and barely able to stand. He runs from the monsters and the doctors and his parents and everything he can't shake off. Runs until he's shaking, tripping over himself on the pavement. He doesn't care about anything except for the burn in his lungs and the pain in his legs.

Doctors warned him to take it easy. Nancy tells him to stop. His parents call him lazy. The kids think he's just a jock, even though Dustin and Max have both walked in on him heaving into the kitchen sink.

The migraines get worse. He probably needs glasses, maybe hearing aids-- but he stopped going to his follow-up appointments when his parents started asking too many questions.

It all comes to a head when he goes for a run on a hot summer day, the sun baking him alive before he even gets started.

One foot in front of the other. There's black spots in his vision. He can keep going. His stomach cramps. Keep going. Just one more step. Push harder.

One more.

One more.

One more.

One more.

He wakes up in the back of an unfamiliar van.

He'd worry the G-men finally came for him, but there's matted shag carpeting scraping his neck. The smell of stale weed makes him sick all over again and thank God there's a plastic bag shoved under him so it doesn't get everywhere. He just wishes this dude would stop yelling, he's louder than Dustin.

"Fucking Christ, Harrington, thank god you're alive. If you'd died in the back of my van they would've burned me at the stake."

"Munson?"

"Yeah Golden Boy, it's me. Although," Munson pauses, assessing Steve with the same clinical eye he gets from Nancy, "you're not looking so golden right now. Almost as pale as me."

And that's it. After a few protests, Munson drops him at home. Steve keeps running himself into the ground.

Almost nothing changes. He gets a job at the mall. There's some torture and another monster. He meets Robin. Billy dies.

And he runs. And runs. And runs.

Except maybe Steve starts running past the trailer park. He knows Max is going to move in soon, and it's his job to scope it out. One time he nods when he sees Munson on the porch. The guy's decent enough to wave back.

Steve's not sure if it's coincidence or not, but eventually Munson starts handing Steve a water on his way by. Then a Gatorade. Then calling out to him to say hi, inviting him to sit and offering a granola bar.

Max starts turning up at about the same time. She starts running with him. She's not as fast, she can't go as far or as long as Steve can.

He slows down. He makes sure she doesn't overwork herself and shortens their routes. They always somehow end up at Munson's porch even though Max's trailer is right there.

The burn in his lungs has cooled down, the shooting pains in his legs become a warm ache instead. Stretching feels practically euphoric.

Munson sits down next him, handing him another glass of water. Their sides are brushing. Steve's insides flutter with nerves, the sensation so similar to how running used to make him feel, all the way back before his concussion. He realizes suddenly that it's been a while since running made him sick.

The tip of Eddie's pinky brushes his own. Max smiles to herself as she pretends not to notice. It's better than any runner's high Steve could ever chase down.

"How're you feeling, Stevie?"

Honestly... "Pretty great, actually."

Andrew who is an Omega. Not that he was allowed to ever show it, he has been on suppressant most of his life and the only times he had sex was when Smurf deemed it a good way to distract certain people from their crimes. He has never nested, doesnt even know his own scent and his violent tendencies are him trying to show he is big and strong like his Alpha brothers...

Then he manages to get away from the Cody's and goes across the country to Pittsburgh, where he knows his half-brother Jack lives who he hasnt seen in 20 years. He is desperate for a safe place and Jack ofc lets him stay. Pope doesnt understand how Jack as Alpha can be mated to another Alpha, Robby. That concept is fully foreign to him. But Robby is nice and respectful and smells of cinnamon so maybe its fine.

The biggest thing for Andrew to get used to is the mismatched pack of hospital staff that comes to the house sometimes too. Apparently Jack and Robby have accidentally become Pack Alphas and especially the younger med students and doctors come often to leech on the food and soft blankets, and enjoy the big TV Robby and Jack own lol.

Andrew keeps to his room during those times at first but eventually dares to join and he is especially in awe of Dennis? Dennis is an Omega too, and even though Andrew understood his family didnt alwayd accept him, he accepts himself now and is just blossoming. His sweet, citrus-y scent is always strong and happy when he is in the house and he will make a nest for him to cuddle in with some of the other students and Jack and Robby while they watch a movie. He also doesnt back down from sassing Trinity, an Alpha, and is just so unapolgetically himself.

He is also really kind to Andrew and tries to involve him. Andrew is cautious at first, awkward and tense when he does sit in a nest and flinching at touches (unless they are from Jack and Robby, I feel like he will sometimes quietly squeeze in between them in bed needing the closeness secretly). But slowly he gets more used to it, even quietly asks Dennis to teach him how to nest and asks him questions about being an Omega that he was never allowed to think off before.

He also asks Dennis to stay over when he first stops taking his surpressants. He knows he is safe with Jack and Robby, but he would like an omega there...

I'm too chicken to write it myself (the AO3 curse bit me once and now I'm gunshy), but if you even get a bit of a plot bunny from the idea that would be great! 👍 Hope this gave you some inspiration!

ahhhh yes this is good shit. i’m becoming obsessed with young robby who has no real control over dennis but also wants to tell him what to do, which lends so well to robby being a tattle tale to jack. i’d love to see this fleshed out into a full thing, but i understand that the curse is discouraging. i took some liberties, i hope that’s ok. this got…long.

robby was pushing dennis into an empty exam room and wrangling his shirt up.

“it’s nothing!” dennis insisted while holding down his scrub top. “i swear, it’s just a bruise.” his tone was frantic.

robby didn’t care if dennis was technically his superior as an R2. he fucking yelped when robby grabbed him during a trauma! something was wrong, and dennis had been loudly dreading going back to nebraska until the moment he left for the airport. he came back…quiet, hesitant. and then he made that pained noise that robby just couldn’t ignore.

dennis was broad, but robby had reach. in the end, he pushed up dennis’s top and peeled the medical tape holding down some gauze.

“what the fuck?” robby asked incredulously. dennis stilled at the tone, interpreting it as disgust.

Andrew who is an Omega. Not that he was allowed to ever show it, he has been on suppressant most of his life and the only times he had sex was when Smurf deemed it a good way to distract certain people from their crimes. He has never nested, doesnt even know his own scent and his violent tendencies are him trying to show he is big and strong like his Alpha brothers...

Then he manages to get away from the Cody's and goes across the country to Pittsburgh, where he knows his half-brother Jack lives who he hasnt seen in 20 years. He is desperate for a safe place and Jack ofc lets him stay. Pope doesnt understand how Jack as Alpha can be mated to another Alpha, Robby. That concept is fully foreign to him. But Robby is nice and respectful and smells of cinnamon so maybe its fine.

The biggest thing for Andrew to get used to is the mismatched pack of hospital staff that comes to the house sometimes too. Apparently Jack and Robby have accidentally become Pack Alphas and especially the younger med students and doctors come often to leech on the food and soft blankets, and enjoy the big TV Robby and Jack own lol.

Andrew keeps to his room during those times at first but eventually dares to join and he is especially in awe of Dennis? Dennis is an Omega too, and even though Andrew understood his family didnt alwayd accept him, he accepts himself now and is just blossoming. His sweet, citrus-y scent is always strong and happy when he is in the house and he will make a nest for him to cuddle in with some of the other students and Jack and Robby while they watch a movie. He also doesnt back down from sassing Trinity, an Alpha, and is just so unapolgetically himself.

He is also really kind to Andrew and tries to involve him. Andrew is cautious at first, awkward and tense when he does sit in a nest and flinching at touches (unless they are from Jack and Robby, I feel like he will sometimes quietly squeeze in between them in bed needing the closeness secretly). But slowly he gets more used to it, even quietly asks Dennis to teach him how to nest and asks him questions about being an Omega that he was never allowed to think off before.

He also asks Dennis to stay over when he first stops taking his surpressants. He knows he is safe with Jack and Robby, but he would like an omega there...

Merge that with Robby finding out that huckleabbot hook up and he’s assuming Jack is Dennis’s sugar daddy hes always texting with. Rabbot confrontation - Robby’s like. You can’t do this with my residents and jacks just “why not??” They get into a whole argument, and Robby brings up spending money buying him things, to which Jack responds “he told you about the collar????”

McRaider Summary: Dennis gets clocked while out with the street team, luckily, he has his boyfriend with him to take care of him. A/N: Pitt Whump Week – Day 6 – Prompts used: Teeth & “Let’s take a look.”

              Jack had one knee in the grit and broken glass of the river trail, his radio clipped to his jacket crackling quietly against his chest. His headlamp cast a steady white beam over the patient’s leg—angry red, swollen, infection threatening if they didn’t get ahead of it tonight.

“Okay,” Jack said, voice calm, unhurried, the tone that told everyone around him he had this under control. “This is going to hurt. I won’t lie to you, but I’ll be quick.”

The man—Ray, per the intake Dennis had handed him—grunted. “Do what you gotta do, doc.”

Around them, the street team moved through the encampment with practiced efficiency. Nurses knelt beside tents. Two residents handed out socks and granola bars. Someone farther down the trail had gotten a stubborn laugh out of a patient, the sound echoing up into the concrete belly of the bridge overhead. The river slid past in the darkness, indifferent.

Jack worked with steady hands, irrigating the wound. Nights like this were always deceptively quiet—everything balanced on a knife’s edge he could feel but never see. “Alright, Ray, I’d like if you came in to the ER tomorrow, if you don’t want to come inside, call me when you’re at the park across the street, just so I can check this over—”

It wasn’t loud. Not at first. Just a subtle wrongness—voices tightening, laughter cutting off too cleanly. Jack kept his eyes on his hands, finishing the wrap with practiced precision.   

“ABBOT!” The shout tore through the camp.

Jack’s head snapped up. His heart spiked instantly, too fast for logic to catch up.

“What?” he barked, already on his feet.

Another shout—closer now, panicked. “Jack, over here!”

He broke into a run, boots skidding over gravel and mud as he pushed past tents and supply crates. His radio crackled with overlapping voices, too much talking at once.

“Jack—” “Someone get the cops—” “Oh my God—”

Then he saw Dennis. Or—he saw Dennis on the ground. For half a second, Jack didn’t understand what he was looking at. Dennis was curled on his side in the dirt near the tree line, his clipboard shattered beside him. A man stood over him, wild-eyed, unsteady, rage pouring off him in waves. Drugged

The man’s foot came down hard into Dennis’s ribs. Dennis made a sound—sharp, broken—and tried to cover his head.

Jack’s blood went cold. “HEY!” Jack roared.

The man kicked Dennis again before anyone could reach them. Dennis rolled onto his back, hands coming up too slow, too uncoordinated. The man dropped to a knee, grabbed Dennis by the jacket—

—and punched him square in the face. The impact snapped Dennis’s head sideways. Jack felt it like it landed on his own bones.

Something inside Jack broke loose. He didn’t remember crossing the distance. One second, he was shouting, the next he was physically dragging the man off Dennis, all muscle memory and fury, shoving him back hard enough that he stumbled into two outreach workers who caught him.

“Get him out of here!” Jack shouted without looking back. “Now!”

Hands grabbed the attacker. Someone yelled. The sound blurred into static as Jack dropped to his knees beside Dennis.

“Oh God—Dennis. Dennis, stay with me. Open your eyes, Dennis.”

Dennis was breathing, but it was wrong—short, wet gasps. One eye was already swelling shut. Blood ran freely from his nose, streaking across his cheek and into the dirt beneath his head. His hands twitched uselessly at his chest like he couldn’t quite figure out where to put them.

Jack slid one hand beneath Dennis’s head, the other already checking his jaw, his pulse, his pupils. “Hey, you’re okay, don’t try and move, look at me, sweetheart.” He soothed.

Sluggish pupils looked at him, Dennis blinking, he frowned, confused and opened his mouth, coughing up a dark splatter of blood across his lips and chin. “Okay, okay, It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let’s take a look,” he kept his voice calm as he slowly lifted up Dennis’s scrubs.

McKay knelt beside them. “Jack—he took at least three hits. One kick to the ribs, another to—”

“I know,” Jack snapped, then immediately softened. “I saw it. I’ve got it. Let’s get the medic team over here.”

He tilted Dennis’s head just enough to maintain the airway, keeping his neck still. Dennis whimpered, his hand clutching weakly at Jack’s jacket like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

“Jack?” Dennis slurred. “Did—did I mess up?”

The question hit harder than any punch.

“No, baby. No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He hadn’t done anything to warrant having his teeth and face rearranged. His thumb brushed Dennis’s temple, grounding them both, he hoped.

McKay returned with a C-collar and the medics who had a stretcher. “Hey, pup, you’re chariot awaits. McKay’s going to put the neck brace on.”

“No-No,” Dennis said immediately, panic slicing through his voice. “No, no—don’t—”

“Dennis,” Jack warned softly, already sensing it. He knew Dennis didn’t like small tight spaces, hated feeling trapped and restricted.

“I can’t—Jack, I can’t have that on.” Dennis tried to shake his head and immediately hissed in pain. His breathing accelerated, shallow and fast. “Please. Please don’t trap my neck. I can’t—”

Jack shot a sharp look at the nurse. Pause. Then he focused back on Dennis, lowering his voice until it was just for him.

“Hey. Look at me,” Jack said. “You’re not trapped. I promise.”

Dennis’s chest heaved. “I can’t breathe,” he said, even as air dragged in and out of his lungs. “It’s going to press—I’ll panic—I’ll move—”

“I know,” Jack said quietly. “I know you will. And that’s why we’re talking first.”

Dennis’s eyes were bright now, wet and terrified, tracking every movement around him. His hands twitched, desperate to rise, to pull away.

Jack didn’t let go.

“Dennis,” he said, firmer this time. “This is not optional. You might have a neck injury. If you move wrong, you could paralyze yourself.”

Dennis swallowed hard, eyes darting. “I know,” he whispered. “I know. I just—Jack, please. I can’t—I can’t do it.”

Jack closed his eyes for half a second, guilt and fear crashing together. Then he opened them and softened his grip just enough to feel reassuring instead of restraining. “Okay,” Jack said. “Okay. We’re going to do this together.” He nodded to the medic who’d taken over while McKay moved to gather the others and finish things up. He hoped she was also calling Robby. “Not yet.”

Dennis’s breathing stuttered, but he stayed still, clinging to Jack’s jacket like it was the only solid thing left in the world. “Dennis, listen to me,” Jack said, steady and unyielding in the way only a man in charge could be. “This collar does not clamp you down. It does not choke you. All it does is remind your body not to move. That’s it. You know this.”

“I know—” he whimpered, before he tried to shake his head weakly. “My chest feels tight.”

“That’s the panic,” Jack said. “Not the collar. You don’t even have it on yet.”

Someone behind Jack muttered, “Pulse ox is dropping—”

Jack didn’t look away. “Because he’s hyperventilating. I’ve got him.”

He leaned closer, lowering his forehead until it almost brushed Dennis’s hair.

“Match me,” Jack murmured. “In through your nose. Slow. Out through your mouth.”

Dennis tried. Failed on the first breath. Gasped on the second.

Jack didn’t rush him. “That’s okay,” he said. “Again. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to stay still.”

After a few shaky breaths, Dennis nodded once. Barely.

“Okay,” Jack said, lifting his head. “Collar’s going on. Do not look down, you do not turn your head. You keep your eyes on me. Got it?”

Dennis swallowed. “You’re not leaving.”

“Not a chance,” Jack said.

The plastic slid beneath Dennis’s neck. Dennis sucked in a sharp breath and tensed instantly, fingers digging into Jack’s sleeve. “Jack—”

“I’m right here,” Jack said firmly. “You’re doing great. Don’t move.”

The collar came up around his jaw. Dennis let out a broken sound, half‑sob, half‑moan, his chest bucking against Jack’s hands. “I hate this,” Dennis choked. “I hate this, I hate this—”

“I know,” Jack said, voice rough but steady. “I know, baby. Stay with me.”

The collar clicked was Velcro closed. Dennis froze. For a terrifying second, Jack thought he was going to try and bolt anyway. Then Dennis exhaled—long, shaky—and sagged back into the dirt, exhausted.

“It’s on,” the medic said quietly.

Jack didn’t respond. He was watching Dennis’s face, the way his eyes fluttered, the way the fight drained out of him all at once.

“Good job, we’re going to get you on the backboard and then the gurney, just keep breathing okay.”

“Jack—I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t you dare apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” Jack watched them roll him, keeping his body aligned, then settled him on the backboard, strapping him in. He watched Dennis’ whole-body tense as the straps kept him in place. “It’s only temporary, Den. I promise.”

“I know,” Dennis whimpered. They headed up the short road to the ambulance, and Jack watched as they loaded Dennis in, he followed immediately behind, silently thankful no one questioned it.

“How bad is it?” Dennis asked quietly once they were moving.

Jack looked down at him, face stone serious, “You’re missing like four teeth.”

“What!?”

Jack snorted, causing Dennis to laugh, only to be followed by a hiss of pain. “You’re such an asshole.”

“But I’m you’re asshole,” he countered smiling, and brushing the kid’s hair from his face.

Jack could see Dennis’s energy waning; he was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Stay with me, Den. Just another minute and we’ll be at the Pitt. Robby will be there.”  

“He’s gonna be upset.” Dennis murmured.

“Not over anything you did, sweetheart.”

The ambulance bay doors opened, Shen and Ellis already there to receive them, and directly behind them stood Lena and Robby. Wild-eyed, pale, face filled with worry, wearing faded flannel pajama pants and a Pitt sweatshirt thrown on. His hair stuck up like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times already, and Jack knew this was the most undone they’d ever see their Chief attending.

“Jack! Oh god, how is he?” he took the foot of the bed as they moved inside, Jack running down the list of injuries.

“Robby?” Dennis whispered.

“I’m here, baby. We’re here. We’re going to get you into trauma two, okay? Just keep breathing.”

“Can we take off the neck brace?”

Fuck, Jack hated how shaky the kid sounded asking that question. “We will soon, sweetheart, John and Ellis just want to make sure you don’t have spinal issues.”

“His BP’s on the rise again,” Ellis called out.

“It’s the neck brace, Robby,” Jack ordered.

Instantly, Robby pulled up a stool, and while trying to stay out of the way he began to talk quietly right by Dennis’s ear, about nothing important, what he’d had for dinner, his plans for their vacation soon.

“Okay, confirmed no spinal injuries, Dennis, we’re removing the c-collar,” Ellis told him as she undid the Velcro and slowly moved it, Robby keeping the kid’s head steady.

“No internal bleeding, no fluid in the Douglas pouch, no free fluid around the heart. I want to get a CT scan of his head and ribs. His breathing sounds better, equal on both sides,” Shen announced.

“What about the blood he coughed up?” Jack asked.

“Den, can you open your mouth for me?” Ellis requested, giving his cheek a gentle stroke as he looked up at her with glassy eyes. “Hey bud, open your mouth,” she chuckled, she could tell they were probably going to lose him to unconsciousness pretty quickly. Mouth open she spotted the problem. “He’s got a nice slice on the inside of his left cheek, I’m guessing that’s where he was struck?” Jack nodded once. “Blood was from that, thank god. We’ll still get the scans to be safe.”

“Pupils are a little sluggish, but both equal, definitely looking at a mild concussion. He’s going to be sore and need some rest, but as long as the CT scans don’t reveal anything nasty, I think Dennis got away with a nasty headache and bruised ribs.”

“Can I close my eyes now?” Dennis asked miserably.

“Yeah, we’re moving you up to CT now.” Lena replied with a soft chuckle.

Two hours later, Robby and Jack had Dennis cuddled between them, looking down at the now sleeping boy who’d gotten away with bruises, and two cracked ribs but thankfully little else. “Are you okay?” Robby asked, once he was sure Dennis was out for the count.