3.5k of omegaverse tiny gax! this is a direct follow up to the first ficlet, which you can read here. fernando POV and alex POV (and they're both going through it here). featuring heat crisis, hurt/comfort, and a little bit of a crying. enjoy!!
There are a few things Fernando has learned throughout his life about being an omega. One of those things is that there's a certain expression people wear when they're relived not to see him, but to see an omega at all.
Those are the faces he's met with when he arrives at the clinic, still in his team kit underneath the overpriced hoodie he'd bought at the airport to try and lay low. He'd turned his phone off while he was on the flight, and he doesn't intend to turn it back on for a while, if ever.
He's met at the door by an alpha, her face set in a serious expression, mouth pressed into a thin, tense line. She stops him with a hand before he can push the door open, eyes glancing across him worriedly.
"They're not in good shape. Where did you find them?"
He blinks, trying to figure out why she would stop him from going further to find his pups, and then he realizes—
She thinks he did this. He frowns, scent souring.
"They reached out to me for help. I haven't met them before,"
He sees her open her mouth and narrows his eyes.
"But I'll take care of them now."
It's a heavy promise to make about three pups he hasn't even met yet, but he knows. He can feel his omega in his heart, suppressed for so long he'd nearly forgotten how consuming it feels when his instincts are triggered. There will be no suppressing it again now that it's out— but those are consequences for him to think about later. The pups need to come first.
The alpha in front of him softens her gaze, shoulders slumping.
"The alpha pup went into rut while you were on your way here. We got them quarantined in one of the isolation rooms, but we'll need to give them meds again in the next few hours, and he's not letting anyone in close."
Shit, not a good sign. Hopefully the youngest omega hasn't gotten into heat yet, and might still be aware enough to recognize Fernando.
He steps into the clinic, nose wrinkling as he catches the anxious scents of the employees. There's a thick layer of scent neutralizer hanging in the air, but it's not masking much, and his own blockers he'd taken before he got to track have long since worn off.
Someone points him in the direction of the isolation room, and he takes a deep breath before stepping into the anteroom, quietly praying that his omega instincts will help him just this once.
He can see through the small window in the other door that the alpha pup has rearranged the room, the mattress pulled off the bed and over into the corner furthest from the door, the small bedside cabinet and equipment cart positioned between them and the door. Hopefully the pup doesn't launch at him as soon as he tries to walk in— from what he remembers about alphas in flash ruts, in a scenario like this one, trying to protect a vulnerable pack member, he'll be more likely to stay put and be on the defensive.
Fernando does his best to settle his scent into something gentle, insecurity ghosting across his brain. He's not omega enough for this, not at all, and someone like Seb would've better for this, or Jenson, or even Lewis, as a pack alpha.
Even if he did want them here, they're too far away to call, and the pups need him now. He slowly opens the door to the isolation room and is immediately met with a hoarse growl that cracks in the middle, clearly adolescent.
The room is drenched in fear. It makes his fingers twitch and the hair on his arms raise, a whine trying to crawl up his throat. There's the unmistakable lighter notes of pup scent, but it's overpowered by sickly heat smell and exhausted alpha, a mixture of scents that screams something is very wrong. It confirms what he already knows— there is no pack, just the three of them, and his stomach churns. How have they been surviving this long? What have they had to do, how imbalanced are their hormones, can Fernando even help them?
He's out of his depth. Still, he manages a scratchy purr, unfamiliar in his throat, and the growling cuts off for a moment as he lowers himself to sit on the floor, back pressed against the door, as much space between him and the pups as possible. The pile of sheets in the opposite corner shifts for a moment before a head pops eyes, eyes narrowed in his direction.
The pup is trying to smell intimidating, pushing a protective scent, but it's coated in fear, and it tugs at Fernando's heartstrings. He keeps purring as the sheet pile shifts again, watching curiously as the alpha pup's eyes widen, trying to shove something down under the sheet.
It's a hissed whisper, English if Fernando is hearing right, and then a moment later another head pops out, eyes widening when he sees Fernando. This must be the youngest pup, the other omega. He certainly smells like preheat, but it's wrong— sickly and scared.
Fernando keeps up his purr, but he raises a hand, waving at the pups.
The omega pup tries to come out of the pile, and the alpha snarls, cracking in a few places, scent lurching with acidic fear, eyes glancing panicked over in Fernando's direction. He's practically feral, and it's too much pressure for a single alpha, let alone a pup. To be responsible for two sick omegas— it's a wonder he hadn't lost it any sooner.
Fernando spares a second to hope there's no cameras in the room before he folds his legs underneath him and leans forward, chest to the ground, the back of his neck exposed. It makes fire prick at his skin, outdated and traditional, objectifying, but it's for the pup. The pup who is just as sick as the other two but doesn't understand that Fernando is here to help.
Any reasoning that could've been had with him is gone. Fernando is trying, as an older omega from a large pack, to show that he's come to assist. He's not trying to exert authority.
The growl tapers off again, and he'd heard the omega pup's horrified gasp when he'd exposed his neck, but he doesn't dare move yet, still pushing his scent the best he can, gentle and reassuring even as the vulnerability makes him feel sick.
He smells the scent shift, the alpha pup coming closer, wary and exhausted. It's terrifyingly quiet for a moment, and he keeps his gaze on the floor despite the urge he has to draw back and hiss.
A broken whine slips out, raspy in the way all alphas are, and then there are hands tugging Fernando's head back up, and there is a pup crawling into his lap as he sits up, scent spiraling into catastrophic grief as he noses at Fernando's neck, desperate to be claimed by an older pack member.
That... hadn't been what he'd been prepared for. He feels his arms come up to cradle the pup, body moving faster than his brain, nosing along his cheekbone and hairline, purr ratcheting up to a volume he hadn't known he was capable of.
"It's alright, I'm here now, let me handle it."
They needed an adult, and now that the alpha pup knows there's someone here to take care of them, he crumples into Fernando's chest, a puppy whine lurching out of him, tears soaking into his shirt. He spends a moment soothing him, hands rubbing at his back, before he looks up and makes eye contact with the youngest omega pup, who's left the sheet pile but hesitated halfway between it and Fernando, looking nervously back.
Fernando gets a grip on the alpha pup before standing, taking a few steps towards the pile, close enough to spot the third pup curled against the wall, hair dark with sweat, skin pale. He's the main source of the sick scent, the nauseating notes of heat crisis that Fernando would recognize anywhere.
He sets the alpha pup down in the nest before extending a hand to the youngest pup, gesturing him closer.
He keeps his voice gentle, and George nods, eyes watery.
He sniffs, and then he's falling forward into the sheets, scrambling to desperately curl up against Fernando's chest the same way the other pup had, breaking down as Fernando scents him, pushing as soothing of a scent as he can.
"Please, I thought he was going to die, and then Alex, and I—"
He's choking on his words, sobs too big for a frame as small as his, and Fernando tucks the pup's nose into his neck, purring loud enough that it vibrates through his chest.
"You were very brave, George. You did a good job reaching out to me, and I can take care of things now."
George hiccups against his throat, scent slipping further into preheat.
His voice breaks, and Fernando feels his heart shatter into pieces and scatter across the floor. How had no one noticed? How had this slipped by everyone when motorsport is such a close community, when there are large packs in every category?
He forces himself to focus. He can dig into it later, but right now he has an alpha pup against his side and an omega pup in his lap, and he needs to handle the other pup's heat crisis.
This, at least, he knows how to do.
He kisses the top of George's head before nudging him off his lap and against his side with the alpha pup, rubbing his wrist at the scent gland on his neck, voice gentle.
"You don't have to be scared anymore."
He reaches for the third pup, who's deadweight in his arms as he pulls him onto his lap, and George and the alpha both make twin noises of fear, scents spiking as the omega's lashes twitch, a soft whine slipping from his throat. Fernando hushes them both quietly, brushing his wrist over the scent gland on the pup's throat and holding it there, his other hand cradling his face. It should register to the pup on two levels, and hopefully once his body recognizes that there's adult omega pheromones around, he'll start to settle.
He keeps pushing his scent, shifting to get more comfortable as the other two rest against him. George is still sniffling, but the alpha has calmed down slightly, watching Fernando quietly. His eyes keep trying to shut, exhaustion dragging at him, and Fernando doesn't even want to think about how long it's been since he's slept— he wouldn't have been able to once the heat crisis started, and who knows how long he'd been awake before that.
He puts a tiny amount of authority into his tone, less than a dame would, but enough that the alpha's twitches upright, eyes dull.
"Sleep, pup. I'll take care of things."
He doesn't know how much his words are being registered, but he pushes his reassuring scent even stronger, watching his lashes flutter as the pup slumps against his arm, breathing starting to even out. George snuggles closer to him, looking up at Fernando.
He pauses, voice shaking.
"And you're holding Max."
The name Max rings a bell somewhere in Fernando's head, but he doesn't have the capacity right now to figure out from where, and instead folds Max closer against him, trying to breathe through the sick scent. It rubs all his instincts the wrong way, his inner omega clawing at his ribs that they need to fix it.
Fernando watches him carefully.
"You are going to enter a stress heat. I am going to take care of you, I promise,"
He leans his head down to nose at George's head.
A stress heat is unavoidable, but if by some miracle Fernando can make him feel safe enough, they stand a chance to reduce the permanent damage.
At this point, it's the best they can hope for.
Alex is so exhausted that he doesn't stir when the door to the isolation room opens an hour later, both him and George passed out soundly against Fernando's side. The clinic has sent in a beta, and Fernando is careful to keep his scent level as she walks in so that the pups don't pick up on anything different in their sleep.
She's carrying a large fabric bag over one elbow and a smaller bag in her hand, and she waves at him, eyes curving as she smiles underneath the medical mask. Her voice is soft when she speaks, quiet to avoid rousing the pups.
"My name is Ann, I brought in meds and some nesting supplies."
Fernando hadn't considered nesting supplies, but his inner omega is pleased at the thought of getting something more robust than the hospital mattress and a pile of sheets for his pups. The medication is his first priority though, and he shifts Max in his arms, making it easier for her to access the IV in the crook of his elbow.
She sits just outside of the makeshift nest, hands smelling lightly of antiseptic as she pulls on a pair of gloves, gaze gentle as she looks at them.
It's hard to keep his scent level when the situation makes him distressed to think about, but he manages, reaching over to gently run a hand through Alex's hair.
She nods as she uncaps Max's IV, attaching a small syringe.
"We managed to get IV's on them when they came in, thankfully. I've got a heat reducer for Max and George, and a pheromone balancer for Alex. I have an antibiotic for Max as well."
She pauses, switching the syringe for a smaller one.
"We're a bit worried about their fluid intake, but the reducers and balancer should bring them out of the worst of it in the next two days, so if you can manage to get them to eat least drink some water and broth, hopefully we can skip more intensive measures. I brought nesting supplies with me, but I'll be back tonight with the food, broth, and maybe another mattress?"
Fernando settles his wrist under Alex's nose and watches the pup relax in his sleep, the small furrow between his brows easing.
"Another mattress would be good."
They're too young for proper heats or ruts, still having the puppy versions, which means Fernando's presence should be enough, especially after the medications. He refuses to think about what could've happened if they hadn't asked for help.
She finishes with Max's IV and scoots forward, pulling out a single blister packet.
"Max, can you wake up for me? Just for a minute?"
She reaches forward and rubs at his shoulder, and Fernando lifts a hand to brush a thumb across his cheekbone, purring softly. His pup's lashes flutter for a moment before his eyes open, hazy and unfocused, but he's not panicking. Ann pops the pill into her hand as Fernando taps at his jaw lightly.
"You need to swallow this, yes?"
Max makes a soft, broken whine, but he opens his mouth enough for her to place the pill on his tongue, and he swallows a moment later. Fernando lets approval seep into his scent, nosing at his hair.
Max shifts to face away from Ann, face hiding in Fernando's neck, searching mindlessly for a scent gland until he finds it, resting his nose directly on top. It's a common move for pups with their dames when they're not feeling well, and Fernando gets an odd feeling in his chest, a tightness he's not familiar with.
Ann moves to George, who doesn't even stir when she injects the heat reducer, and then Alex, who twitches when she reaches for his arm but settles at Fernando's reassuring push of pheromones, and they successfully avoid waking him up for the time being.
She scoots the nesting supplies bag closer as she stands, and Fernando can see the edges of blankets peeking out from the top, different textures and fabrics.
"I'll be back in an hour or so."
He can't quite manage to smile, but he flashes her a grateful look all the same, already thinking about how to best make a nest for the four of them.
Time passes in a haze. Alex remembers carrying Max into the clinic, legs tired, exhausted from the hours of driving it had taken to get there, George nervous at his side, but things get foggy after that. He remembers his ears ringing as they tried to tell him what was wrong, remembers them drawing his blood, remembers growling when they drew George's blood, but everything after that doesn't make any sense.
A flimsy mattress and thin sheets, a distressing scent he couldn't seem to get rid of, omega pheromones all around him, all wrong, George's scared scent, and then— nothing. He has no idea what had happened after that, but he knows he feels like shit, muscles aching, a headache at the sides of his head and just behind his eyes.
There's a small voice in his head telling him to get up, that he has Max and George to take care of, but he takes another breath in through his nose and is comforted with the thought that it's alright. There's a dame here.
He snuggles further into the pillow under his head, and he knows his fingers are linked with George's. He can smell Max, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, he's not accompanied by the sickly scent that they just hadn't been able to get rid of. Instead, both Max and George smell sweet, sweeter than normal, scents mixing well with...
The realization hits him so hard that he sits immediately upright, eyes snapping open. There's a dame here. There's a dame here, and his two betas smell like omegas, and they'd come to the clinic because Max was dying.
His heart settles before his brain does, soothing pheromones surrounding him, and he's eye to eye with Fernando fucking Alonso, who's wearing an I ❤️ LA hoodie, bags under his eyes, Max and George curled together halfway on his lap, and Alex had been sleeping on him.
Alonso purrs at him, slightly scratchy but reassuring nonetheless, and for the first time Alex feels at odds with his instincts. His inner alpha isn't putting up a fight at all, perfectly content to have been sleeping in a nest with Alonso.
He doesn't know what he's going to say. Alonso gives him a small smile, nodding down at Max and George.
"They're sleeping off the last of their heat. Max has another dose of antibiotics today, but it should be the last one."
His scent gentles, shot through with something deeply sad, there and gone again in a flash.
"You did a good job bringing you all here, Alex."
Alex had brought them here because George had said he knew someone. He hadn't expected that someone to be a world champion in the middle of the racing season.
A small growl builds in his throat. Alonso could bring this whole thing down if he mentions that he'd found the three of them like this. Alonso could ruin everything that they've worked for, that Max and George have given every piece of themselves for, and it'll be Alex's fault for not scaring him away.
He wishes he sounded more intimidating. Wishes he was grown, wishes he was a more stereotypical alpha, wishes he could do more. He always feels as if he's just fallen short, everything he wants only barely out of his grasp, close enough to touch but not to grab.
Alpha enough to lead, but not enough to protect.
Alonso's brow furrows, scent shifting with concern.
"My concern is making sure that the three of you are taken care of. I am not going to the press about it."
Oh god, Alex hadn't even considered the press. He hasn't considered a lot of things, hasn't even really comprehended that his two betas are now omegas— he can't take care of two omegas by himself, but he has to. They have no other option.
Something must be leaking through his scent, because Alonso reaches out to run a hand through his hair, and the only thing that runs through Alex's mind when he catches his scent is safety.
"We can talk about it later, pup. Go back to sleep."
Max and George are okay. Max doesn't smell sick, and George doesn't smell anxious, and Alonso has built them a nest. His inner alpha doesn't seem to have any issue with the situation at all, and it's too overwhelming for Alex to think about next steps yet, so surely it's fine if he goes back to sleep, just for a few minutes.
Just long enough to get his thoughts in order.
