#no.19

Oscar’s family practically forced him onto the plane.

He’d been feeling off the whole time he’d been home. Fidgety, irritable, tossing and turning in his bed and the family pack nest when they dragged him in there. His family had tried to ask him what was wrong, his sisters theorising different scenarios, trying to be helpful.

In the end, they’d come up with the same one every single time.

His alpha missed his omega.

Which was crazy because Lando had only been his omega for a matter of weeks. And no, they weren’t mated. Courting, as his mum put it. A bit old-fashioned, but they were in a developing relationship.

They’d survived winter break last year perfectly fine after his rookie season (no, they hadn’t been together yet, but whatever). Was it weird for them to suddenly be apart for a long time after spending months in close proximity during the season? Definitely. But it had been a relatively easy transition, both of them with different plans with their own families and friends before resuming pre-season training.

This time, however?

Oscar had struggled to settle, finding himself missing the European winter despite it being the height of summer in Melbourne, delightfully hot with a pleasant breeze. He’d carry around items with Lando’s scent on them (a bracelet and a few t-shirts to wear, plus a hoodie for comfort), but the orange and petrichor were soon lost after a few washing cycles, and there wasn’t much point in getting more things shipped as he wasn’t home long enough. Lando was the omega with a nest, not Oscar.

Sleeping was difficult, and not great for his recovery after training days. He found himself uninterested in cricket, ignoring requests to play COD, spending more time alone, be it in his bedroom or walking around Brighton.

Almost like a piece of himself was missing.

They talked as much as they could. A little difficult given the time zones, especially once Lando started time zone hopping for his holidays, but as the omega tended to be a night owl, he was often still awake when Oscar was getting up for the new day. Whether he did much on those days, Lando didn’t need to know.

His family weren’t smothering him over it – they weren’t that sort of dynamic – but he was only home two weeks out of his planned three before they all but frog-marched him to the airport and said they’d see him in a few months for the Melbourne race.

So here he was, after snoozing most of the flight away with a three-hour layover in Doha, rubbing his eyes as he climbed into a taxi at Nice Airport. Headphones on, music blaring, he stared at the scenery passing by for the forty-minute drive to Monaco.

He’d decided not to tell Lando he was coming back early, mostly so the omega didn’t fuss unnecessarily over it. Oscar didn’t want to intrude on any plans he still had, but the omega always made a point that his apartment was open to him whenever he wanted, which was how the alpha ended up with a spare key and being added to the approved entry list for the building managers.

Wheeling in his bag and closing the door quietly behind him, the familiar scents and noises embraced him as he pulled off his headphones. Unmistakable orange and petrichor with its ginger streak, and the squawks and giggles that indicated Lando was gaming.

Connecting his phone to the apartment Wi-Fi, a quick check of the app showed Lando was streaming. He didn’t click on the stream itself to watch it, as Lando would see his name pop up on the viewer list. He had an alias, of course, but he was a VIP in both Max and Lando’s chats.

He didn’t want to bother him or be a distraction.

Taking off his shoes, he wheeled his bag through the kitchen and into the lounge, keeping out of the way of Lando’s streaming room. Heading to the omega’s nest for a nap was out of the question because he hadn’t been invited in, and that was plain rude.

Instead, he grabbed a thick purple throw blanket from the basket by the TV and settled himself on one of the couches, quickly lulled into dreamland by the familiar comforts surrounding him.

~

“Osc?”

The alpha stirred as a hand carded through his hair, the scent of oranges and rain suddenly much richer.

“When did you get back? Not that I’m not pleased to see you, obviously I–”

Oscar blinked his eyes open. “Hey, Lan.” His voice was thick and dry.

Lando chirped and withdrew his hand from his hair. “Welcome back, my love. Do you wanna nap in the nest? Or do you wanna shower? I can stop streaming and –”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing his eyes and inhaling the comforting scents he’d missed so, so much. Taking in the sight of Lando knelt before him, centimetres away, real, not just on his phone screen thousands of kilometres away, he promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, honey, is everything okay?”

Lando’s hands were hovering, seeking permission to touch him again.

“Hold my hand,” Oscar pleaded. “Please.”

He moved one out of the blanket, resting it on the cushion, palm up. The omega immediately covered it with his bigger sweater paw of a palm, interlocking their fingers. He leaned closer and touched their foreheads together, too, and Oscar closed his eyes again, sniffling.

“I missed you so much,” he choked. “I’m sorry I gatecrashed your night.”

“Never be sorry, baby. Do you know how happy I am to see you?” Lando’s thumb stroked over the back of his hand. “Didn’t expect to pop out to the kitchen for a drink and see you curled up on here, all exhausted from travelling. But as your omega, it fills me with so much happiness to provide for you. You came here because you knew you could, and you made yourself comfortable because you felt safe enough to.” He purred, and Oscar’s alpha rumbled back immediately, albeit a little quiet and tired.

“I didn’t wanna intrude on your nest without permission.”

Lando kissed his hand. “I love you for that, always such a thoughtful alpha. I wouldn’t have minded at all, but the respect you always show my personal space has me falling head over heels for you all over again.”

Oscar cried harder. Relieved, overwhelmed, and exhausted, Lando’s touch after weeks apart, snuggling up inside the missing piece of his heart, he couldn’t stop the barrage of sobs.

“Let me get you some water and tissues.” Lando made to pull away, but Oscar gripped his hand like a lifeline.

“I’ll come with you.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

“Okay.”

Not once letting go of Lando’s hand, he slowly sat up and then pushed himself to his feet. The omega grinned brightly at him as he led him through to the kitchen. Lando got him a glass of water and filled up one of his own LN4-patterned bottles. Oscar felt bad about him doing it all one-handed, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

His mouth and throat felt a lot better with some hydration. Lando filled up the glass a second time before grabbing the box of tissues by the fridge.

“Can you finish another one for me, please?” Lando asked softly, nudging the glass with his free hand.

Oscar nodded and complied, their other hands still intertwined. The simple connection felt like it was breathing life back into him, restoring his energy and calming his previous restlessness.

“Thank you,” the omega praised with a chirp. He then plucked a tissue from the box and held it up. Oscar thought for a moment he might try and wipe his face for him.

He sniffled again. “Thanks.” Clutching the tissue, he balled it up and roughly wiped his eyes, cheeks, and chin. Then he took a deep, grounding breath and gave Lando a small smile.

“There you are,” he beamed, his bright hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you comfortable with me scenting you?”

Despite Oscar not wanting his face touched before, having his omega scent him right now sounded like the cherry on the cake of his abrupt return.

He nodded. “Please.”

“Can we take your blockers off?” Lando stroked his free hand down his arm. “I can’t smell you.”

“Fuck, I forgot, sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair. He’d left them on to mask his entry into the apartment so as not to disturb Lando, then promptly forgot to remove them after his nap.

Fuck, he must smell like recycled aeroplane air too. Fucking gross.

He’d definitely have to shower before bed. He didn’t need to contaminate Lando’s perfect nest.

His alpha whined, but the omega purred in comfort. He took another deep breath, moving Lando’s bigger hand up to his neck. His fingers were warm and familiar, and he closed his eyes again.

“It’s okay. Travelling so far always takes a lot out of you, never mind being all on your own. I’m sorry if all the questions are overwhelming. I just want you to feel safe and comfortable. I wanna look after you.”

“I love you.”

Lando blushed and ducked his head, biting his lip. “I love you too, Osc.”

Oscar trusted him with his life, but he still hissed as the scent blocker patches were peeled off. First his neck, then his wrists. He saw Lando melt as he breathed in the waft of milk chocolate. It wasn’t sickeningly sweet nor bitter, but a smooth middle ground that Lando always said reminded him of cold, rainy, cosy nights with his Belgian family.

“Come here,” Oscar beckoned, their hands finally separating as they hugged tightly.

Lando swayed them side to side, tucking his head into his neck as their scents mixed perfectly. They melted into each other, alpha rumbling and omega purring, all the remaining tension disappearing into the kitchen floor. They scented each other, and Oscar suddenly felt the need to change out of his clothes.

“Come on, I’ll get you my comfiest joggers and hoodie,” Lando reassured, leading him through the apartment to his bedroom. Oscar couldn’t get his jeans and jumper off fast enough.

He wanted to smell like Lando.

The weight of the hoodie was immediately soothing, and the joggers clung to his meatier thighs. Hugging Lando again and kissing him on the cheek, he urged the omega back to his gaming room, conscious he’d stolen enough of his time. Once Lando reluctantly left the room, Oscar’s alpha whined, and he was immediately fidgety again.

“Do you trust me?” Lando asked, holding his hand again.

“Always.”

Lando led him into the streaming room, picking up the purple throw blanket and a cushion on the way. Sitting down in his gaming chair, he placed the cushion on the floor between his legs and coaxed Oscar to sit on it, wrapping the blanket around him. The alpha instantly rested his head against his thigh and wrapped his hands around one of his legs.

“I’m right here, okay?” Lando stroked a hand through his hair. “Camera’s off, so no one will see you. If you need anything, just poke me, and I’ll stop immediately, okay?”

“Thanks, Lan,” he mumbled, already halfway asleep again. His omega was here, right beside him, and Oscar felt perfectly at ease for the first time in weeks.

“Sorrrrryyyyyy! Special delivery I needed to attend to,” Lando spoke above him. “I’m back, I’m back!”

Oscar snuggled against him, breathing deeper when Lando stroked his hair every now and then, lulled to another restful nap by the distant noises of keyboard and mouse clicks.

He’d thank his family in the morning.

~

The road stretched on for miles, empty and gray beneath a heavy sky. The world was too quiet now. Even the walkers seemed to have vanished into the trees. That should’ve been a comfort, but it wasn’t. Not when Daryl was burning up with fever in the back of a half-collapsed barn off the side of the highway.

Rick had called for a stop that morning when Daryl stumbled and nearly went down face-first in the dirt. The others had caught him and helped him to the shade, but it hadn’t taken long to see this wasn’t just exhaustion. His skin was hot to the touch, sweat beading at his temples, lips cracked and pale. The cough started soon after, deep and raw.

By nightfall, he couldn’t stand.

Rick paced outside the barn, hands on his hips, jaw tight. “If it’s somethin’ contagious like back at the prison, we can’t risk it spreadin’ through everyone.” He said quietly. “Not with—not with Carl and Judith.”

You stood beside the open doors, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “You wanna just leave him?”

Rick shook his head. “We’ll leave what water and food we can, but if it’s bad, we can’t—”

“I’m not leaving him.” You said before he could finish. The tone in your voice stopped him cold.

He looked at you for a long moment, something like sympathy flickering in his eyes. “You stay, you might get it too.”

“I don’t care.” Inside, Daryl shifted weakly on his bedroll, the motion drawing your eyes. “I get it, Rick. I do.” Dragging your eyes back to Rick, you lifted your chin slightly. “Do what you need to do to keep the kids safe. To keep everyone safe.” You turned to enter, calling back over your shoulder, “I’m staying.”

You knelt beside Daryl, brushing damp hair off his forehead. His skin was burning, his breath shallow. “Ain’t lookin’ too good, huh?” He rasped, voice barely a whisper.

“You’ll pull through.” You said softly.

“Don’t lie to me.” His cracked lips twisted into something that might’ve been a smile if it weren’t so tired. “Ya gotta go with ‘em. Ain’t no sense in both’a us dyin’ out here.”

You shook your head. “Not leaving you, Dixon.” Getting yourself a little more comfortable next to him, you cupped his cheek, patting it softly. “And neither of us are gonna die.”

He stared at you a long while, eyes glassy with fever but still carrying that stubborn fire. Finally, he huffed, too weak to argue more. “Hardheaded damn woman.”

The group left at dawn. Rick said he’d mark a trail ahead every few miles in case you caught up. You watched them disappear into the mist and then turned back to Daryl, your chest tightening.

For days, it was a blur of fever dreams and half-conscious mumbles. You kept him cool with what water you could spare for rags to lay across his skin. He couldn’t seem to swallow solid food, so you drained the liquid from cans of beans to spoon for him. It was likely wretched but he was too far gone to realize or comment. His fever spiked again and again. Each time, you thought it would break him.

At night, when he thrashed and called out for people long gone—Merle and his mother—you whispered to him, grounding him back in the present.

“I’m here, Daryl. I’m right here.”

You barricaded the barn door as best as you could and traveled as far as you dared in every direction to scavenge through old gas stations, risking walkers and worse for anything useful—medicine, canned peaches, even a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol that felt like a miracle.

One morning, after nearly a week, the fever finally broke. You woke to find him drenched in sweat but breathing steadily, color creeping back into his cheeks. When his eyes finally opened—clear and sharp again—you nearly cried.

He blinked up at you. “Ya look like hell.” He croaked.

You laughed wetly. “You should see yourself.”

He pushed himself up with a groan, staring at the makeshift camp you’d built inside that dilapidated barn. “Ya did all this?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t have much choice.”

He looked at you then—really looked—and there was something in his eyes that went deeper than words. “Told ya to leave me.”

“And I told you I wouldn’t.”

A week later, the two of you stumbled out onto the main road again, Daryl still pale but strong enough to walk beside you. The trail markers Rick had left led straight towards an old church where the group had set up camp.

When they saw you both coming up the road, Rick’s relief was written all over his face. Carol ran to you first, hugging you so tightly that you could barely breathe.

Daryl leaned against the railing by the steps, arms crossed and smirking faintly. “Ain’t dead yet.” He muttered.

Rick clapped his shoulder. “Guess you’re too damn stubborn.”

You looked at Daryl, smiling tiredly. “Told you neither of us were dying.”

He met your gaze, eyes softer than you’d ever seen. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “Reckon ya did.”

And as the sun dipped low over the ruined world, it felt—for just a moment—like you both might actually survive it.