Sup!

This was only your fifth week at PTMC but you were holding your own, switching between shifts as needed to bolster numbers or cover for absent co-workers with only a couple of days off in between to reset your clock. Jack had heard nary a complaint from you or the charge nurses you reported to. Currently you were offering a sucker to a little boy that was waiting on the results of an x-ray. If you noticed him watching you, you didn’t show it. But Jack was careful. He had a reputation as the surly alpha to keep after all. It worked. The Pitt ran better at night and he liked the version of himself he got to be here. All stripped down, focusing only on the job. Still, there was part of him that wondered what you saw when you looked at him. If you could see past the grumpy behavior and scars.

He signed off on a chart and watched you from the corner of his eye. He was fascinated by you to the point it was becoming a distraction. Your scent was all wrong, buried by the medical-grade suppressant lotion that left only a sterile undertone that reminded him of saline and latex. Hospital policy for alphas and omegas. Once in a while, a spike of something bled through, but never enough for him to read.

Jack wondered, not for the first time, if you had anyone at home. You were friendly with your coworkers but he’d never caught you sharing anything personal. He’d thought about asking you out once or twice, taking the chance, but the idea fizzled. Despite all his time as a doctor, he still wasn’t great at reading people and was even worse at saying what he wanted.

He was about to walk over, ask how you were getting along when Kevin walked back from his station at the check in desk. His arms were loaded with an enormous arrangement of crimson roses and lilies. He held the vase like it was going to bite him. “Delivery for one of the nurses,” he said and placed it on the counter.   

Jack glanced at the clock. Who the hell was delivering flowers at this hour? “It’s not even five.”

Kevin shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you, Doc,” he said before heading back to his post.

“Someone’s looking for brownie points.” Lena eyed the flowers with a smile as she turned them looking for a card.

You stepped out from behind a curtain where you’d been checking on another patient and stopped dead when you saw the arrangement. For a second, you went motionless as if readying yourself for an attack. Jack’s stomach rolled. He’d seen that look before on the battlefield. A fear response in those that had learned the world was out to kill them.

Lena called your name. “They’re for you.”

You paled, looking slightly nauseated. “There must be a mistake.”

“Nope, card’s got your name on it,” she replied, holding out the tiny envelope with your name scrawled across it.

Jack watched you reach for the card, fingers trembling. Your scent spiked sudden and sharp. Not the comforting scent of an omega at peace, but the metallic, electric scent of distress. He straightened, not even pretending not to watch you anymore. A few steps brought him closer, gave him a better feel of the aroma. You were terrified and it only got worse when you read the card. You turned away, shouldering past curious staff.

“What the hell was that?” Jack muttered.

Lena shook her head. “No idea. I’ve never seen her lose her composure like that.”

He grunted in agreement, staring at the door you’d disappeared through and considered following. Didn’t. If you wanted company, you’d ask for it. At least he hoped so. The last thing he wanted was to be That Alpha, muscling into business that wasn’t his. But, still…

You returned a few minutes later, pulling his attention from the MS4 he was talking with. You were composed and your scent was muted but your face was too blank. You walked over to the flowers and slammed them into the trash bin, shoving the card deep after. Then you marched straight to the security guard who was watching you with wide eyes, pulling out your phone to show him something with quick, angry movements. Jack watched torn between concern and intrigue. He’d watched you defuse angry drunks and calm crying children with the same measured confidence. This, the way your whole body was coiled tight, was new and he didn’t like it.

Fred, the grizzled, barrel-chested security guard frowned at whatever you showed him on your phone. He nodded and led you into the security office. Five minutes passed, Jack working while keeping one eye on the office, waiting for you to emerge. The hollow in his gut felt a little bigger with every minute you didn’t come out. When you finally did, your mouth was pressed into a thin line. Fred taped a sheet to window of the office, before patting you on the shoulder and heading toward the waiting room with another sheet of paper.

Jack’s gazed trailed you as you walked over to say something to Lena and disappeared down a side hall. He moved over to see the addition to the security office. A white flyer with two pictures of the same man, one with a beard and one without. Under the photos in all caps: IF SIGHTED CONTACT SECURITY AND LAW ENFORCEMENT. DO NOT APPROACH ALONE.

Jack lingered, biting the inside of his cheek. It was none of his business. He told himself that three times, but his feet didn’t believe him. He circled over to the trash can, fishing out the card that had accompanied the flowers. One line scrawled in slanting print. You will always be mine.

Jack’s hand crushed the card without meaning to. He forced his fingers open, dropping the ruined paper back into the bin. His jaw ached from clenching. He turned to find Lena already watching him, mouth drawn in concern. “When she gets back, tell her I’m looking for her.”

“Everything okay?”

The truth was bitter on his tongue. “I don’t know.”

Lena’s gaze softened. “I’ll let her know.

You reappeared sooner than Jack had expected, truth be told. He’d had time to run a trauma, instructing a resident through stitching a chest tube when you were suddenly there beside him. “You wanted to see me?”

He double-checked with his juniors before stripping the gown and gloves and steering you out into the hall and to a quiet corner. “What’s going on, sweetheart? Is everything okay?” The endearment slipped but he found himself unwilling to take it back.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and took a deep breath. “I should probably tell you anyway. Robby, too.”

Jack nodded, slow. “Okay. I’ll have him come in a bit early and we can all talk, alright?”

You watched him for a long moment, searching for something. He just looked back giving you the same steady gaze he used for scared rookies and dying patients. You gave him a nod. “Thanks, Jack.”

Robby arrived a half hour early, hair still damp from his shower, and the three of you hid away in the staff lounge, shutting the door behind you so you wouldn’t be disturbed. You sat at the table clutching the cup of coffee Jack had poured for you before getting his own. Across from you, Robby sat on the couch, elbows propped on his knees and hands folded under his chin as he waited for Jack to tell him what warranted the early summons.

Jack started with what he knew: the flowers, the card, the flyer taped to the window of the security office. When he finished, Robby turned to you, dark eyes gentle but insistent. “Want to fill us in on what’s going on?”

You nodded, but your throat worked twice before words came out. “His name is Grant Spalding. Met him when I was an undergrad. At first, he swept me off my feet. He had some very questionable ideas of what it meant to be an alpha. Of how I should behave as an omega. I stayed too long and when I tried to leave…” You trailed off with a shrug as if that said everything when it actually said nothing at all.

Anger coiled in Jack’s chest, hot and electric, but he kept his face blank. Hopefully, the suppressant would keep his scent in check. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared of him.

“Go on,” Robby encouraged.

Your hands twisted together in your lap. “He didn’t take it well. Got physical. Took it too far and he had to rush me to the ER. He thought I’d be too afraid to say anything. He was wrong.”

“Where was this?” Jack asked.

“Seattle. I pressed charges, got a restraining order. His family’s loaded and influential. He lawyered up and they put pressure on the DA claiming I was unstable, that everything had been consensual and just got a little out of hand.” You clenched your jaw. “He was sentenced to less than a year.”

Jack’s knuckles were white around the coffee mug. “You moved here to get away from him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah.” She didn’t look up. “It worked for a while but he found me anyway.”

Robby exhaled, slow and sharp. “Where are you living?”

Your answer was so soft Jack almost missed it. “One bedroom apartment a fifteen minute bus ride from here.”

Robby shot Jack a look over your head. “Roommates?” he asked.

You swallowed and shook your head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jack said, voice warm but sharp. “That won’t do at all.”

You lifted your head, eyebrows climbing. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t be alone,” he continued. “Not if this guy is as bad as you say.”

Robby nodded, the decision made before you could even open your mouth to protest. “When you’re not at work, you’re with one of us until this guy is taken care of, one way or another.”

You looked between the two of them with wide eyes and shook your head. “I can’t ask you to do that. My scent—your homes will reek of it for weeks after I’m gone.”

Jack snorted. “You aren’t asking, and I can think of a hell of a lot worse things for our home to smell like than you.”

There was a beat. Your lips parted then you blinked, confused. “Our? You two live together?”

Robby smirked. “Yeah. It made sense to us. Opposite shifts. We’re hardly ever home at the same time. Which also means someone will always be home when you are. Handy.”

Your skepticism was obvious but your shoulders eased as some of the tension unwound. You glanced between them again. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Robby said.

“We wouldn’t offer if we weren’t,” Jack added. He finished his coffee and washed out his mug before looking over his shoulder. “I’ll take you home after shift. We’ll grab your things.”

You stood and gripped the back of your chair after you pushed it in. “Are—are you sure this won’t make things awkward?”

Jack shrugged. “I’ve seen Robby in his underwear. Nothing more awkward than that.”

Robby gave you a crooked smile. “Besides, Pitt policy says workplace safety is a shared responsibility,” he said parroting the last HR video you’d all had to watch.

That seemed to chase away the last of your wariness. “Thank you both. You have no idea how much this means to me. I’m so embarrassed about all this.”

Robby’s smile fell and he stepped into your space, making you look up to meet his eye. “You did everything right. You reported, told people. Hell, you even moved. He’s the one that should be ashamed. Not you.”

You hesitated before nodding in agreement, lip trembling.

“You’re doing this as much for us as we are for you,” Jack cut in, desperate to keep you from tearing up. “We’d be worried sick about you otherwise.”