Chapter Text
You were well liked within your current team. You were the field medic, and a damn good one at that. Nothing has ever stopped you from slowing down. You could easily patch a man up while under fire and not even break a sweat. The talk of second gender never bothered you, you were proud of it. Being an omega was never easy, as they often got moved around to help form pack bonds that were more stable.
Which is what happened to you. You went to check the mail one day, seeing if your family had sent anything. Nothing but a single transfer letter from a General. You were being sent to Task Force 1-4-1.
That was all alphas.
Okay, that was fine. You were used to putting bratty alphas into their place. Granted they weren’t usually trained for special forces, or had more brushes with death than life, or wore skull masks.
“Get ready! We land in 10!” The pilot shakes you out of your thoughts. The helicopter ride hadn’t been all that bad, but you couldn’t drag your gaze away from that letter. You were lying if you weren’t scared.
Thankfully, they had allowed you to continue wearing your scent suppressors, so nobody could smell that. Even if the annoying little transparent patches were itchy as hell.
The helicopter shakes as it lands, but that doesn’t bother you. What bothers you is seeing Captain Price, one of the alphas in this new pack you’re being forced into, standing there with his arms crossed. You quickly depart from the helicopter, shouting thanks to the pilot over your shoulder. His scent was mellow, but was still very much present. Cigar smoke covering aged whiskey falls heavily in the air. He did not look, or smell, very happy. The air was tense, almost able to be cut through with a knife.
“You’re the new pack omega the General sent over?” Price asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow as he peers down at you. You definitely had muscle, but it was more lean which was due to your omega nature. “I’m Captain Price, one of your new packmates.”
“Yep, that’s me,” You start awkwardly, not really knowing how to start this conversation to break the tension. You decide to just plow on to get to your room to go hide away. “Mind showing me to my room? I’d like to start unpacking.”
Unpacking was a strong word, you only had one bag of clothes and a few other essentials. That being bathing products and the scent patches. Still, the reasoning was believable enough.
Price just continues with that assessing look, but shortly nods. He was mentally scolding himself for not making you feel more welcome, but he was already stressed. Ghost was already in a shit mood, and even Soap wasn’t able to cheer him up. Gaz was off being… well, Price really didn’t know. The Sargent had just said ‘he had a plan,’ and raced off. The Captain had no clue what that was about.
Price leads the way to your room, which was just standard issue except for a few items. First off, there was a collar with the 141’s insignia inscribed on it. Right, since you were the pack omega now, you had to wear a collar to prove it. There were 2 hoodies, one smelling like ocean-spray and cedar wood, the other smelling like gun oil and sage. The second to last item was an old blanket, smelling like cigar smoke and aged whiskey. Oh. They were scented items, things to help you to get to get used to their scents without them needing to be close. The last item was a skeleton ski mask, which smelled like fine bourbons and petrichor.
“You can shower and I’ll help you put the collar on, doll,” Price says, standing near the doorway as you venture into the room. You notice a bathroom off on the south wall of your room. When you poke your head in, you find it’s nothing surprising.
You quickly grab your bath supplies and turn the shower onto burning. The sound of the water hitting the wall makes a great white noise for your thoughts. This was definitely far from ideal, but nothing had gone wrong so far. You weren’t immediately forced into helping someone’s rut, or immediately shoved into the collar. That and nobody had forcibly tried to scent you. So far so good, but the bar was on the floor. (AN: It always is in this economy)
You walk out of the shower, already dressed and hair pushed out of the way. Your skin was slightly red from how hot the water was, but your muscles seemed to have lost some tension. That isn’t lost on Price. He motions for you to sit down, collar already in his hands. It isn’t lost on you that it locks, making you unable to remove it. You take a seat on the bed, head dipped to make it easy for Price to slide the collar on. The leather is definitely high quality, if a bit cold. A shiver runs down your spine. Price’s hands linger on the collar, adjusting it to the proper tightness and to make sure it sat well on your neck.
“There ya go. Get some sleep, unless you’d prefer to meet everyone tonight?” Price offers, wanting to give you some semblance of control. His voice, though gruff, is not unkind.
You shake your head, “No, thank you, I’d like to be left alone.” You reciprocate his tone, though slightly more clipped. You just want to be alone to get your head on straight. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
Price leaves with a nod, respecting your choice, and takes his leave. His footsteps echo down the hallway. You turn your attention to the scented items, no doubt left to be able to make into your nest. However, you felt far too exhausted to do that for tonight. You just wanted to sleep, hopefully you wake up back in your old bed, with your old team. You felt so out of place here.
This was not your home.
In the morning, Price, Soap, and Gaz sit in the cafeteria talking about their new pack omega. Well, Price talks about you, informing the sergeants of what to expect. Ghost, however, is nowhere to be seen.
“They’re a little… rough, obviously not wanting to be here,” Price was saying, eyes slightly sad. He had never wanted to force this upon you, it was out of his hands. It was clear you had been very uncomfortable yesterday and he felt horrible about that, his inner alpha howling in sadness at making an omega feel like that.
“Relax, I’m sure they’ll warm up, I mean look how Simon changed,” Gaz soothes easily, tilting Price’s head up to meet his eyes. He had a reassuring smile on his face. “Look at their feats, they’re strong. Resilient. Even if they decide to hate us, I’m sure Soap’ll annoy them into loving us.”
“Aye!” Soap shouts, indignantly, trying to protect his honor. Not that he had much. “I’m not that annoying! Even Si said so!”
Soap had quite the thick scottish accent, while the other two had british accents. None of them had noticed you lingering near the doorway. The scent patches were still on, and you had always been particularly skilled at being quiet. You were thankful for those little patches, your scent had always been too-telling on your emotions, as most were.
“C’mon- you guys love me! Why else did you- AH!” Soap turns and suddenly spots you, spooking him. “Holy shite! How long’ve you been standing there?”
You shrug, “Not long. A few minutes, maybe.”
Gaz and Soap eye you with curiosity. Today, you were wearing a simple outfit, t-shirt and cargo pants. The scent patches on either side of your neck glint lightly in the dull overhead lights. Which is what Price was looking at. He didn’t like those stupid little patches, he wanted to know your scent. Granted, that was borne out of selfishness, he liked to know what his packmates smelled like.
“C’mon, we saved you a plate,” Gaz easily recovers from his shock, holding up a tray that still had food on it. It looked higher quality than the slop that was served at your old base.
You walk over to them, taking the tray with a thankful nod and sit across from them. You start eating quietly, Soap is quick to fill the silence.
“The names John, but Soap or Johnny work all the same!” He’s quick to introduce himself, a bright smile on his face. He was the one that smelled like ocean-spray and cedar. It was a lot brighter when not diluted with cloth. It was nice, light.
“Gaz, Kyle Garrick,” Gaz introduces himself with a polite nod, watching you eat food. He was the one smelling like gun oil and sage. His scent was a lot less in your face than Soap’s was. “Food to your liking?”
“Well, you already know me, I’m your new pack omega,” You start dryly after swallowing a bite, you can feel the collar on your neck. You hate it. “And it’s better than what my old base served, so it’s not horrible.”
You offer over a strained smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but the effect is there. All the alphas scent light up as they return your smile. They do seem eager to try and make this as comfortable as possible for you. Honestly, meeting Ghost had slipped your mind as you tried to enjoy the current moment.
Maybe this wasn’t going to be as awful as you thought.