Chapter Text
Saturday, May 14th, 2016, 10:15 a.m. Torrance LA
The sun crept through the old floral curtains as Herman slowly opened his eyes. They felt sore from hours of crying as he slowly pressed his fingers to the lids and pushed. Whipping away the stray moisture that clung to his lashes as he simply drifted. He was surrounded by a familiar scent of light rainfall that had him sinking deeper into the sheets. His long limbs felt distant as he slowly rolled onto his back. A small purr erupted from deep in his chest as he melted against the covers. The peaceful silence was interrupted by a loud bang downstairs.
For all of Herman’s shitty hero skills, one thing he did have where relflexs. He was out of bed in a couple of moments and down the hallway before he was even processing what time of day it was. Nearly tripping over cats that hung around his feet as he skittered. He stumbled to the staircase before his mind seemed to catch up with his body. The smell of his grandmother was fresh as it led down the hallway and to her stair lift. Herman couldn’t help the spike of fear at the woman having gotten out of bed and downstairs without him; that could be dangerous.
He slowly crept down the stairs with a growing anxiety, the water turning in his stomach as he hit the last step. It creaked under his weight the same way it always did. The sound of the TV crackling filled the home as sunlight shone through the familiar space he’d spent most of his life traversing. Turning to the left as he peered through the kitchen entrance, where the ruckus was emanating, to see his grandmother. The small woman was in her wheelchair and struggling to reach up high enough to turn the nobs of the stove on. Herman felt a stab of anxiety turn up a couple of dials while watching his grandmother try to mess with cooking equipment.
“Gran- mamaw rose, what are you- I told you- please don’t mess with the stove.” He managed to mutter out his words as he strode across the kitchen and turned the nob off. His water splattered onto the stove top, causing a wave of steam to rise towards the ceiling. He let out a long sigh as he took a step back and stared down at the frail beta. She was grinning softly, uncaring for his scolding as she shook her head.
“Oh, Herm, you don’t need to worry about me, sweetie. I was just trying to make you some pancakes!” The woman's voice was chiper as Herman felt a familiar pang through his chest. His eyes swept across the countertop as he was met with the sight of flour and chocolate chips spread across the countertop. Her shaky hands were not able to measure out the ingredients as she could when he was a pup. A mixing bowl filled with a familiar-smelling batter that almost had him sobbing all over again.
“Granny It’s- thank you. Go- I’ll finish it for us.” Herman swallowed the lump in his throat as he grabbed the handles of her wheelchair and pushed her towards the small kitchen table, one chair for him and an empty spot for the wheelchair. Setting her at her favorite spot where the sunlight hit her lap just right. A nearby cat immediately took the bait as they jumped into his granny’s lap to sunbathe.
He slowly walked back over to the stove as he took out a pan from one of the cabinets. Spraying it with the butter spray that was located in a small spinning tray on the countertop before placing it onto the burner. Letting a large glob of batter fall onto the pan with a sizzle. The task was a good distraction from his emotions. He didn’t want to think about last night, or work, or what would happen when Monday rolled around. Right now, he had breakfast and was taking care of his grandmother to worry about. After that, he would clean (the already pristine) house to perfection, and then he would watch TV with his grandmother. He wasn’t going to look at his phone, and he wasn’t going to answer any knocks at his door. Most of all, he wasn’t going to think about Monday.
“Do you know you get your nervous stomach from your grandfather?” Rose’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet morning as Herman looked down at the stove in silence. He felt deflated, like all the water that kept him standing had rushed out of his body like a squeezed sponge. His shoulders hunched forwards as he drips water across the counter and stove top. His mind was roaring with so many different thoughts that his grandmother effortlessly snaps him out of. A confused sound leaves his mouth.
“Umm- uh no?” Herman looked back at the older beta. She was shakily petting the feline on her lap as it purred loudly.
“Oh yes. On our first date, I made him cry twice, and you vomited salt water at least five times. Oh, I’d never seen an omega more miserable in my whole life, shaking like a leaf.” The woman laughed softly as she turned to look at Herm. Her expression was as soft as it had always been. Her large rimmed glasses slid down her nose as she carefully pushed them back up.
“People used to say he smelled like a fish market, and he got called all kinds of names. I will admit I only asked him out on that date cause it was a dare from your dear aunt Martha. He nearly started sobbing when I asked him out after school one afternoon. Never seen someone blubber so badly.” Her laugh wasn’t cruel as she sheepishly admitted to her actions. His mouth opened in a surprised O. He could never have imagined his grandma being so cruel to his grandfather. The man had passed years before he was born, but the way people talked about him and Grandma had painted a totally different picture than what she was describing. Her expression was wistful as she went on.
“I took him down to this old Italian place by the beach, he was letting off so much salt water, I’m pretty sure he added an inch to the coastline. We sat down, and he ordered. I’ll never forget how he looked at me, and he went ‘Rose, I know your sister asked you to do this.” His grandmother mimicked a younger-sounding man with her own crackling tone. Letting out a long sigh as she tilted her head.
“And let me tell you, I was shocked that I’d been caught. I turned redder than a lobster as he broke into tears. And I apologized harder than I ever had. Oh, he was so upset, and he asked me, ‘Do I smell like a fish? Who would want an omega who smells like a fish?’” His grandma chuckled as she shook her head at her past.
“And then we ate in silence until the bill came, I paid, and the next week I asked him out again, and he agreed. We were officially courting less than a month later.” She was silent for a moment before she asked: “Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Herm?”
“I do granny but- it’s just- this is s-very different.” He wanted a pack, mates, he wanted pups. He wanted it more than anything in the world. He wanted her to know that when she passed, he would be taken care of. He wanted her to meet her great-grandpups before she was in hospice. But that wasn’t panning out. He was a failure of an omega. He turned away as he flipped the batter before adding more globs of it to the pan. Grabbing an old porcelain plate to put a finished pancake on. His hands were shaking as he was slowly dripping a new puddle onto the lenomile where he moved.
His throat bobbed as he pushed down the well of water that yearned to escape. His grandma wasn’t stupid; she must have picked up on what had happened. She must have realized how stupid Herman was for agreeing to go over to spend time with a mated pack, alone. What else would they have wanted than to invite Herman to join? She must be worried because why would Herman not accept such an amazing deal? Why wouldn’t he finally take up the offer of a pack, a group of people that would love him long after her ever-approaching passing? He struggled to flip a pancake because of how harshly he was shaking.
“Herm, I know you like that Robert boy. You aren’t very subtle, darling, and I know those teammates of yours aren’t as nice as you try to tell me. So why don’t you tell me what’s been happening, honey?” The beta’s words were soft as Herman flipped more pancakes. He didn’t respond as tears slowly dripped down his face. Adding to the already existing puddle at his feet. Sniffles and suppressed whines added to the cacophony of the sizzling pan and the flipping of batter. The silence stretches thin as Herman tries to think about where to start.
How to explain everything he’d been keeping from his first and only packmate. All the lies he’d been telling to keep her from worrying. All the late nights he’d spend quietly sobbing in his room. He stays silent as he finishes cooking, stacking the porcelain tray with pancakes as he moves over to the table mechanically. Setting it down as he grabs two plates, a bottle of syrup, and forks from there well known spots and sets them down. Silently sitting with his downcast eyes before he opened his mouth to speak.
Friday, April 30th, 2016, 3:52 p.m. Torrance LA
Herman slowly faded back into concussions. His head ached something fierce as he furrowed his brow. Slowly blinking his eyes open as the sight of an old warehouse filter into view. Dust particles are floating through the rays of sunshine that shine through broken windows and skylights. His vision was fuzzy; it was hard to make out what was happening. His hearing wasn’t much better, but the smells were sharp. His head lolling to the side as he slowly blinked. The smell of agitated beta filtering through as he could make out the vague shape of something moving a couple of feet in front of him. Setting up a long black pole that blinked a red light. The distant sound of footsteps growing closer snapped him out of his concussed daze with a slap to the face.
His head snaps to the side as he blinks. The sudden rush of pain broke him out of his confusion. There were a handful of augmented goons looking at him. Herman could count four to his left, where his face was now facing. A red mark was growing on his cheek.
“Well, looke’ here, the z-team bitch is finally awake.” A man sneered at him. He was standing a full height as Herman stood to look at where he stood right in front of the chair he was tied to. He made a snapping gesture as Herman slowly turned. Relaized the object in front of him was a camera, which was rolling. The red light of the device was blinking like the red augment strapped to the man’s fists. Herman felt nervous, more nervous than he felt most of the time when he was kidnapped.
Maybe it was the smell of irritated beta, maybe it was the fact that this group was ex-red ring, or maybe it was the way the beta was sneering down at him with a knowing look. His nose twitched as Herman couldn’t help but pale slightly, glancing at the rolling camera as it hit him. This wasn’t a normal kidnapping. Normal villains don't take the time to lure you out to an isolated location with a camera rolling and ready to go. The man in front of him was some kind of mammal hybrid; he wasn’t sure. The ears atop his head were generic enough, and his tail was docked, halfway cut off with a horrible knot of scars. His nose was twitching as he must have picked up on Herman's nervous scent spike. Something Herman wasn’t used to people being able to sense. The man simply grinned, showing off rows of teeth stacked on top of each other.
“Aww.. the poor omega is gettin’ nervous.” The man let out a condescending coo as he walked behind Herman, out of sight. His accent was thick and mocking. Herman blinked up at the rolling camera as he pulled at the restraints. An old, worn-down pair of handcuffs, but they were tight. Too tight to slip out of and seemingly rigged with extra metal and security. Looking down at his feet, that where chained to the old metal chair he was situated in. His heart fluttered quicker before someone suddenly grabbed his face. Forcing him to look at the camera as they squeezed his cheeks. The sensation of claws against his skin made him prickle as that same voice came from behind.
“Isn’t he just a sweetheart, so pretty, honestly, i dont know why your pack lets you out. If you were my omega i’d never let you out of the nest.” He shivered, hair standing on end as the man cooed like he was a child. His face flushed at the teasing, humiliating words. He opened his mouth to try and retort in some way, but the grip on his jaw tightened. Making his jaw crackle uncomfortably as his teeth are shown to the camera. Unable to close his mouth with how harshly his grip was. The man's other hand pulls his top lip upwards, revealing his fangs. A low whine bubbles up from within his throat before he can suppress it. An undeniable omega sound, calling out for ‘pack’. Water dripped down his chin as water escaped from his chest.
“If they wanna see you with all your adorable little fangs intact, I’d recommend they pay the requested amount promptly. If they don’t within the next. Hmmm… let's say five hours ill take one.” One clawed finger taps at his omega fangs, the long, pearly white glinting in the filtered light. The serrated edges caught on the skin of the man’s finger. The man was no longer talking to him, more focused on the camera as he made his demands. His grip on Hemrnas jaw stayed tight. He felt a familiar flicker in his chest, a soft growl slipping past his parted lips as the man prodded at his fangs. The whine is turning into a more feral sound. Forcing Herman’s grey wet eyes to meet the camera's lens.
“Oh, that’s actually cute, I’m so intimidated-” The man’s sentence was cut off as he slammed his head backwards full force. Hitting the man’s nose with a sickening crack as his hands withdrew from his jaw, he stumbled backwards. The chair tilted at the sudden action as it toppled to the side. Herman fell onto the cold concrete, his cheek making contact as he grunted. It’s silent for a moment, void of the sound of loud cursing. As Herman was met with the sight of a couple of augmented villains looking at him in shock. He felt a rise of satisfaction at fighting back, which was promptly silenced by a boot slamming into his skull. Turning his world to a blurry static buzz once more.
Saturday, April 31th, 2016, 1:54 a.m. Torrance LA
Herman didn’t remember much of the rescue efforts, probably from the two nasty blows to the head in such a short time. He was still in the chair, which was on the floor. His eyes were closed as the light from the setting sun only seemed to irritate his fuzzy head, which was pulsing with pain. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of villains as they filtered past him. Their voices were loud but distant whenever he could focus enough as they rushed past him. He felt a familiar cold caving through his chest. Herman had never felt smaller in his life. A small puddle of watered-down red escaped past his head and dripped towards a drain on the factory floor that slowly dribbled like molasses.
It felt like time was blending in a jumbled mess as Herman licked at his mouth whenever he could remember. Double-checking his fangs were still there as his pain-addled brain could only seem to latch onto the threat of losing them.
He wasn’t sure if he was even awake when the z-team showed up. One moment, his eyes were drifting shut, and the next someone was unlocking the handcuffs. Water was running down his chin where his mouth was half-opened. There was a blur of red on the ground around him, vague shapes of people on the ground. Letting a confused groan as someone pushed a hand under his armpit and hoisted him upwards. His head was spinning as his legs threatened to give out at the sudden motion. His stomach was turning uncomfortably as he stumbled.
“No, Robert, He’s sustained a bad head wound.” A familiar voice filtered through one ear and out the other as the person helped him hobble. Forcing him to walk even as his legs demanded a break, his head added to the sentiment as it pounded with a vengeance. His mouth hung open slightly as he picked up a familiarly sharp scent of cool metal and ink wells. The voice was familiarly cold and distant as the alpha it belonged to tried to urge him forward. It was to no avail as his legs buckled, nearly sending the dou stumbling to the ground.
“Requesting assistance, I’m concerned… he’s too weak to walk.” Coupe dragged him over to a set of boxes, old and worn. Carefully setting him down onto the ground with his back pressed to the rotting wood. He could vaguely hear the sounds of fighting from outside the warehouse. The sound of mud hitting the concrete outside with a wet pat, along with the sound of fire moving past as it cast long shadows through the busted windows. Coupe stepped back as she released her grip on him. His mind frazzled and half aware of his surroundings protested the sudden lack of her presence. Her blurry figure was moving out of sight.
He was hurt, he was scared, his mind screaming at him for safety. A low sound left his chest. ‘Help, scared, hurt, hurt,’ he whimpered out a familiar call as his lanky hand tried to reach out. Finding nothing but empty air, he heard a hitching of breath. The scent of cold metal turned sharper as, through his blurry vision, the silhouette had suddenly reappeared. A hand grasped the back of his neck slowly. The torn elastic of his suit softly squeaked as someone applied soft pressure to the scent glands at the base of his neck. His eyes closed with another low whine as a small reassuring rumble responded.
The next time he blinked, he was in a hospital room. It was dark as the beeping of a heart monitor echoed throughout the small room. There was a small window that showed the night sky casting two figures next to the window seal in moonlight. He felt dizzy, his stomach threatening to expel a wave of water. A small sound made him jump as something skittered close to the bed, forcing him to focus. Herman slowly sat up, putting his elbows under as he pushed upwards. Allowing him to lean over and look at the bedside. Spotting a familiar fat dog that was looking up at Herman with big, round eyes, tongue sticking out. Before the small creature managed to somehow jump onto the bed, landing on Herman’s bruised ribs.
The yelp he let out immediately had Robert snapping upwards. Eyes wide as his gaze landed on him. Falling back on his elbows, as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Letting out a low groan, the tubby animal didn’t seem to realize the pain it was bringing to Herman. Instead focusing on lathering his bandaged face with kisses. “Oh shit, Waterboy. Beef no.”
The other omega was up in a heartbeat. Grabbing the fat dog and pulling him away from Herman’s face. The dog squirming and kicking its stubby legs while Herman wheezed to catch his breath. Robert’s hands were suddenly on his back. Rubbing a soothing circle as Herman coughed, the pain started to subside enough for him to flop down on his back. The uncomfortable hospital bed was completely soaked and squeaked as he bore his weight down onto it. Squeezing his eyes shut as Robert withdrew his hand. He could hear his voice over his head as Robert talked to the other person who was sitting near the window. Robert’s upset scent only seemed to make Herman’s stomach roar louder in protest.
The sound of footsteps faded away as Robert’s hand returned. Carefully urging Herman to roll onto his side as he adjusted the pillow under his head. Making sure he was lying on his less injured side as he soothed over the bandages. Adjusting the IV tube as he moved his arm. Herman preened under the touch as he allowed the other omega to fuss over him. A few moments later, the footsteps returned along with another pair. He shut his eyes tighter when Robert softly shook him.
“Herman, the doctors gotta ask you a few questions. Come on, buddy, you’ve been asleep for hours, you can stay awake for a couple of minutes.” His voice was soft as he could smell the man’s unsuccessful attempts to soothe his scent into something less upset. Trying to rouse Herman further with a soft keening sound. He simply buried his head further against the pillows with a grumble. His mind was still fuzzy as Robert snapped his fingers in front of his face.
Slowly blinking his eyes open, he was met with the sight of a doctor who held a flashlight in his hands. The man leaned closer as he spoke softly to Robert. The omega nodded in agreement as someone grabbed him from the other side. Turning his head to meet the sight of a tired-looking Chase who was urging him to sit up once more. Robert grabbed his other elbow as he hauled Herman up. His head was swimming as he was propped up against the headboard of the hospital bed. Blinking in confusion at the sudden change in direction, he tried to remember what was happening.
A light hit his eye as the doctor shone it directly into it. Making his flinch as Robert grabbed his hand. Urging him to keep his eye open as the doctor checked them before running through some other simple tests. By the time he had tested Herman’s reflex, his mind seemed to finally stop melting. His hands were shaking as he turned to look at an exhausted Robert. The man was biting his lip as his eyes darted back and forth between Herman and the doctor. Basically hanging off the side of the hospital bed. “Is- am- what happpned?”
“You were taken hostage for two hours by a group of villains. But the good news is, Mr. Gill, your healing ability seems to have you already recovering from your head injury extremely quickly. You’ve got a mild concussion with some minor abrasions that had already started to fade. I’d say you’ll be feeling back to normal in a couple of days with proper rest.” The doctor looked down at Herman as he gave a tired smile. He blinked upwards in confusion as his memories started to come back in pieces. He remembered being in a warehouse, blinking red dots, and the blooming ache of a boot on his head.
He carefully moved his hand upwards to feel the bandages wrapped around the right side of his skull with a wince. His head was dripping water at a quick rate as it fell onto Robert’s shoulder. The hospital gown was loose and left his neck exposed. His gills expanded as he took in a deep breath and released it. His scent glands felt exposed in the small, dark room as the doctor seemed to turn to go grab a clipboard and jot down notes.
“Wai- my- grandma!? Is she okay? I- she can’t get- go to the bed or bathroom without assis- help!” His eyes widened as he turned to look at Robert with panicked eyes. Shit, what if his grandma was home alone right now? It had to be over twelve hours of her sitting in her wheelchair, unable to move around. Oh god and the cats must be so hungry. Grabbing the edge of the blanket as he tried to yank it off his body and jump out of the bed. He needed to get home to his pack. What kind of omega was he, leaving his poor grandmother to rot?
“Whoa, slow your roll, wet boy, she’s fine. SDN provides emergency child and elder care. She’s perfectly alright. You, on the other hand, are injured; sit your ass down.” Chase, or track star, word had less bite than usual. Either because he looked exhausted or because he felt bad for him. Robert was already scrambling to get Herman’s body from sliding out of the hospital bed. Nodding his head in agreement as Herman slipped back under the covers.
“Here are care instructions. I’ll have the release papers ready to go by the morning if nothing else comes up. Herman shakily nodded his head as the doctor returned with a bundle of papers. Handing them off to Robert, even though Herman reached for them, seemingly ignoring the dripping man. Speaking to the exhausted omega next to him. Robert’s scent smelled of stale coffee beans as he nodded his head slowly.
Saturday, May 14th, 2016, 10:25 a.m. Torrance LA
His grandma shakily placed her hand on Herman's wrist, rubbing circles as she looked upwards at him. Her eyes looked glossy beneath her large, blue-rimmed glasses. She looked like she was feeling all the pain Herman had tried so desperately to keep out of the home. To keep the suffering stuck, at work, so when he’d come home to his Grandma, she’d only get to hear the best parts of Herman’s day. “Oh, Herm.. oh honey. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m so sorry, I don- I just- Didn’t realize they were only being nice to me after they sa- relaized I was an omega. I imagine- thought that maybe they were finally up-ming up- being nicer to me…. I didn’t want you upset- or- or worrying more while I was working.” He released all the suppressed guilt from months of lying to his grandma rose to the surface in a tidal wave. Tears cascaded down his face as his voice wavered. Guilt about leaving his only pack alone all day, or sparing her from all the torment he experienced, because he just wanted her to be at ease. No omega should cause so much stress to their pack. Herman was already so stressful to be around.
“No, Herman, dear. It isn’t your fault. That you work with a bunch of good-for-nothing, knot-headed degenerates.” His grandma’s hands cupped his face. Brushing away his falling tears and hitching breaths as she softly cooed. Snot running down his face, she grabbed the napkin under her plate and carefully wiped it away. The food, long forgotten, as Herman's creation of a small tidal wave across the tiled floor. Even the cats were fleeing the kitchen at his outburst. Her voice was stern as she insulted her teammates, which only made his throat feel tighter.
“Listen to me Herm, my precious pup. You’re a good omega; you deserve the best pack in the world. And you’re going to get one, mark my words.” Her words only made him sob harder. He felt as if he could hardly breathe as his body was wracked by wave after wave of water. So many different emotions swirled in his chest, it was hard to figure out which one he should focus on. All the hot anger that had filled him the night before had escaped like water through his fingers; all that was left was the familiar cold hollow that felt like it would never leave.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen. We're going to enjoy our weekend; we're not gonna think about your team. On Monday, you're gonna walk into the nice blazer-woman’s office and tell her you want a new team. That’s what you deserve.” His grandma squished his cheeks before softly relenting her grip, letting her hands fall to his own, which lay in his lap. Looking at him with the familiar spark of determination he remembered as a pup. Hiding behind her dress as she stood in front of his first-grade teacher's desk, yelling after someone poured a carton of milk over his head. His throat felt tighter, but his chest expanded. It took a couple more minutes for him to learn to breathe again.
The cold in his chest finally subsided enough for him to catch a breath. Finally, between long whines and sniffles, he shlyly nodded as his grandma nodded back in return. Withdrawing her hands as she picked up her fork and knife, she started to eat. Letting her grandson sit and think for a moment before Herman is doing the same. Digging into the pancakes as he added a dollop of syrup. The ache in his chest was driven away by each bite.
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