#pre

Yes, it’s what you think it is.

Part 2

Idea from this :

Cw: Omegaverse

Robby assumed it was just because it was the fourth and it was hot and there was two times the typical amount of bodies in the ER. He was caught up in trying to steer a dangerously overloaded ship using technology—or more lack there of—that was older than most of the med students and some of the residents. He was preoccupied with trying to reconcile knowing this place was killing him and needing to be here and learning he is not needed at all.

After another overly emotional taxing ‘conversation’ he retreats to the one room that seems to have become his personal limbo. There’s no one except baby Jane Doe.

She’s so fucking small. Too small. Still a forming idea. She needs to be protected against the world and people like Robby who don’t mean to but will inevitably destroy everything they touch. She’s too young and too vulnerable and she needs to be hidden. Somewhere soft and safe. Nest.

It’s when he finally lifts her out of the incubator that he realizes. By then it’s too fucking late.

Some time today his body made a decision for him and was lying in wait. Biding it’s time because it is him and it knows that Robby will fight it every step of the way if he knows what it wants.

The ambush is successful and the moment he picks her up he feels the bonds snap into place with a ferocity and finality that warns against trying something stupid.

The final proof was the lactation.

While entirely possible for an omega to spontaneously lactate if they hear a baby cry, that only applies to ones that have already had a child. Robby’s never been pregnant, and Jane Doe hasn’t so much as breathed to loud.

No, if he’s lactating now it means his body’s registered her and his pup and understands on a far more intimate level what she needs.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Robby shoved the idea of actively pursuing parenthood into a safety deposit box some time in the eighties and never quite got back to it. He likes children, dare he say respects them. They’re small humans that require time and attention and love. Things he knew early on he was deficient on. For a time he—probably in the middle of med school—he really thought if he just met the right person. Alpha, beta, omega, Robby’s never been picky.

The closest—by a fucking mile—was Janey. A fellow omega whose story is too common. Shitty alpha who ran as soon as a kid was involved. Robby’s not entirely unconvinced that he started and stayed in that relationship for Jake, who was only one and a half at the time. Janey probably sensed the same thing which explained the amicable break up and the continued relationship with Jake.

At least until…

Jane Doe lets out a little squawk. An acknowledgement that comes naturally because it’s really that simple.

“Of all the omegas you could pick.” He chokes out. For all the internal turmoil he still holds her gentle and steady, rocking and bouncing the babe because if she starts crying then it’s really all over.

“There so many better omegas out there who would be thrilled to have you.” He murmurs softly, as if he can persuade the bond to be undone. As if either of the have control over this.

“You don’t want me lemele. I’m mean and old and tired.” He whispers, feeling a sudden and painful pity for her. So tiny and young and utterly alone. Willing to latch on to the first omega that showed up more than once. She can’t even smell him properly. Her body’s just desperate for someone.

The baby doesn’t seem to agree with his sentiment, making a frankly adorable snuffling sound and doing her best to burrow closer to his chest. Thankfully she doesn’t try to suckle.

Technically, he can still remove the bond. It would be upsetting for both of them, but she’s in a hospital and he can wean her off his scent. Leave her with his shirt and as his scent fades so too will their bond. He’ll have to fight instincts that will demand he find her and take her somewhere safe. His nest.

It would be best in the long term. For both of them.

He can’t put her down.

He holds and sways with her. Every second trying to find the strength to put her down because he can’t damn her to be tied to him. He fucking—

He’s exhausted and sharp and any bits of compassion he still has is perpetually wrung out by patients and residents and students and he needs to save whatever scrapes for them. He knows he’s meaner and he can’t be like this for the long term. He needs to care for his people and he’s already running on empty and he won’t sacrifice a child for his job but he knows he couldn’t stand sacrificing his job for a child.

He doesn’t even notice the door opening.

“Hey, you’re still here.” Jack. His voice is gentle and cautious and too fucking similar to how he talks to agitated patients. He doesn’t even have the energy for a snarky response. Which obviously concerns Jack more and he senses him moving closer.

He’s almost able to touch him when he stops. Abruptly. Robby sneaks a glance and sees Jack’s horrified expression. “He knows.” Is the first thing that comes to mind. Followed with, “Of course he appalled. He of all people knows how fucked up I am.”

“I didn’t—” Fuck that already makes him sound guilty. “—it wasn’t…I didn’t know.” The last bit came out as more of a whine than anything. “I didn’t realize Jack. Not until I lifted her and there was suddenly a bond.” And other stuff. He wonders if Jack smells the milk.

Jack visibly swallows and his face morphs into a parody of professionalism. He moves cautiously, overly projecting his movements because they both know new omega parents—Fuck is that what he considers Robby?!—are overly protective and can and will do anything to protect their pup.

“Okay. I believe you.” It comes out as a croon and Robby wishes the context was different. That he was pleased and complimentary rather than placating. “Can you tell me how long?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes.” He half succeeds in slipping back into doctor mode. Sure he may be a patient but he needs Jack to cut this shit out. It’s giving him…hope.

“She shows no obvious signs of the bond taking.” He shoots for objectivity and crash lands somewhere in the plains of uncertainty.

Jack nods, hooded eyes on Baby Jane Doe. Instinctively Robby holds her closer to his chest.

“You know I’ll have to call Kiara and she’ll have to call CPS and you will be investigated.”

Yes. Robby knows that. This isn’t the first time he’s seen something like this. “I know Jack.”

It might come out a bit snappish. He’s surprised to see Jack’s posture loosen slightly in deference.

“They’ll…you know you can’t keep her during that time.” He’s hazel eyes are boring into his soul.

It’s standard. It’s procedural. He even agrees it’s the right thing. It feels like the greatest offense. “Yeah.”

“They’ll make sure you have something of hers and she will you.” Jack adds, deliberate. “And the investigation shouldn’t be too long. Just a couple days—”

“Jack.” He cuts in. “We both know she shouldn’t stay with me.” Because love is wanting what’s best for them and Robby is far from that. “I’m a 53 year old single male omega without any family. I work insane hours and. Fuck you’ve seen my apartment.” He can see three separate child hazards in his living room alone.

He still holds her. Lets her be imbued with his poison. That feels like enough proof that he’s not fit to raise her.

Jack doesn’t saying anything to counter him and, well, that’s that.

Poor, tragic Jane Doe. Abandoned by two maternal figures in less than 24 hours.

Robby holds her closer.

She lets out a little yelp and he adjusts her. Moving from cradling the tiny thing to having her over his shoulder. As he does he notices an unmistakable wet spot. So does Jack.

“Robby…”

“I’ll be fine Jack.” And neither of them believe him. “I haven’t fed her or anything so I should dry up quickly. And she isn’t too attached yet.”

Both of those statements are obvious lies.

They know full well if Robby’s body is already lactating it could mean weeks of him searching for ‘his’ baby. Weeks of stress and despair and mourning. So his regular life. For Baby Jane Doe, technically he’s correct. Without feeding she won’t reenforce the bond. But with the way she’s snuggling and scenting him, plus the previous trauma of abandonment, she’ll be in agony.

The image of tiny, tiny Jane Doe crying and in pain and confused and abandoned makes him let out the quietest of whines.

Jack instinctively tries to let out calming pheromones. His scent patch doing its job and masking most of it. Robby knows he uses the extreme blockers so the fact anything escapes says a lot.

“You’ll be okay.” He refocuses on the one that matters. “You’ll go so many places and meet so many people who will adore you.” And I’ll just be the phantom of a scent.

“Robby.”

He looks at Jack who looks…weird.

“Jack.”

“You said you didn’t have any family.”

“Yeah.”

“If—” Robby can feel him gnawing on his words. “—if you had someone. Would, do you think you’d try?”

“Yes.” Robby doesn’t say. It’s far too honest and reckless.

“There’s so many reasons I wouldn’t take her Jack.” All of them the other is aware of.

“But if you had someone who could help you—”

“Jack,” he says, sounding like when he has to reason with grieving family, “we need to be realistic.”

Jack has the audacity to glare. “I am.”

“Really?”

“You have 3 months off. You’re already lactating. I can smell her getting more attracted by the second. And you’re eyeing me like I’m a threat.” It would be disastrous if you were separated now. Goes unsaid.

“She won’t—” Fix me. Keep me. Give me a reason to live. “—if this is some ploy then that’s fucking low Abbot. Real fuckin’ low.”

Jack tilts his head sideways in partial submission.

“I won’t say I’m uninvested.” Interesting choice of words. Jack’s eyes flicker between Robby and Jane with…something.

“But we both know this is already far enough it could seriously hurt one or both of you.” He glances at Baby Jane Doe, blissfully asleep now and unaware of caring about her tenuous predicament. “We both know how severe rebound bonding is, and what happens if it’s broken.”

“Jack—” He feels the ground being lost. The effectiveness of Jack’s campaign perpetually pummeling his defenses. “—you just said it would take days.”

“I did. When I thought the bond was weaker. At this stage.” Robby watches him play with that matte black ring. Some things never do change. “At this stage no social worker would separate you two. It could literally kill her.”

Right. That is a risk. Especially with infants this young, especially with infants this you who presumably just suffered a broken bond with their parent.

“Jack I’m not—”

“You are Robby.”

“—I can’t.” How the fuck could he? His own mother didn’t bother to stick around. He’s a fucking mess and everyone knows it. And this baby, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like an emotional support animal.

She must sense something’s wrong because there is a gurgling sound. Awake and unhappy. He shifts her again so he can inspect her. All the while fighting every instinct demanding her nuzzle her.

“Are you hungry? Did we wake you?” He asks her indulgently. Then as an after thought he adds, “I thought my patch was still good.”

“They are. I can barely smell you. But…” You’re her parent. Fuck.

He really should put her down. All he’s doing is getting her more attached. If this is rebound it’s definitely a fucking rebound bonding then every second she’s being held is just solidifying an already remarkably strong and complex bond. Which will make undoing any of this ten times harder.

His body doesn’t allow him to bend over.

“Jack.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?” He already has his phone out. The motherfucker.

“If I do this. If.” He says sharply because he can see Jack’s shoulders lower into something offensive like relief. “You will keep your side of the deal.” Because they both know why he mentioned Robby gaining a support system. A paranoid part that sounds like his Bubba hisses to get Jack’s promise written down explicitly and signed with a witness.

Since they don’t have a notary or even a flat surface or paper to write on Robby can only fix Jack with his sternest gaze.

He fully turns to Jack who is stiff at attention like Robby a fucking General; it would be comical in slightly different circumstances. Him, an overly stretched and bloated omega striking fear into the pinnacle of an ideal alpha.

“I’d be honored.” And somehow Robby believes him. Well, that’s not fair to Jack. Robby knows what type of person he is. He knows Jack would only offer if he was a hundred and ten percent committed. Maybe it is the latent catholic or the dregs of the US Army; or maybe that’s just who Jack Abbot was always going to be. Robby likes the last option best. The disbelief comes in because why? Why is he even offering in the first place?