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Alphas go haywire when someone in their pack gets hurt. John knows this. And Matt has been Smitty's pack a lot longer than the rest of them all.
It doesn't particularly help right now however.
It had been a simple supply run. Until it wasn't anymore.
They were looting the supermarket in the town they'd decided to pause in. Droid had been watching the door, John went off with Pezzy to look for medical supplies at the nearby pharmacy. John had been chatting to his fellow omega when Droid had burst in.
“John, we need help NOW. A mutated fuck got Matt and Smitty is freaking out. Quick.”
John quickly threw more gauze packs in his bag as Pezzy ran ahead to clear the area.
Much to John's dismay, the lurker is still in the area, so he motions to Pezzy and Droid to go around. This would be easier if it was him alone.
John got bit by a zombie pretty early on in the apocalypse, mainly due to himself not paying attention. The others had offered to shoot him, but he cringed at the idea, instead deciding to walk off into the forest.
John had wandered around aimlessly for about a month, wondering when he would lose his mind and start obsessing over brains or whatever. He knew he wasn't hungry really anymore, and he didn't need to sleep but he still had full control.
When he showed up back at the Pack house, he almost got shot on sight.
The group had been packing up, ready to leave when a hybrid zombie John turned up. The pack had welcomed the omega back with open arms, curiously checking John over.
John’s heart beat significantly slower, his healing rate was also very slow. Normal cuts would take almost a month to heal, so he initially was given the medic role. A bonus for him however, turned out to be that all zombies saw him as an ally, so they never attacked him. John became the guy to take out problematic zombies for them. Anyway…
John dispatches the mutated zombie, being careful of the long claws it had. More and more zombies were mutating, it was getting harder and harder to do supply trips.
John gets to where he can smell blood, flinching as he hears Smitty growl and snap at something. He turns the corner and sees Droid pat Pezzy on the back.
“He doesn't mean it Pezz, he's just scared.” Droid is comforting Pezzy, who's slightly shaken.
John turns his attention to Smitty and Blarg.
That's a lot of blood. It's not looking good.
“Try to contact Grizzy and Puffer with the emergency walkie. They need to get here asap in the event Smitty absolutely loses it.” John says to Droid, who nods in agreement.
“Okay, I'll just step back and see if they pick up.” Droid says, taking a few steps back.
Pezzy sighs, turning to John. “Let me know if you need anything, I'm just going to stay back here to not freak Smitty out.”
John nods. He begins to move slowly, forcing his breathing to stay deep. Smitty immediately zeros in on the movement.
“Get low John, so he doesn't see you as a large threat.” Pezzy suggested.
John hummed in agreement, dropping to his knees and pushing his med kit in front of him. It's slow going but at least Smitty isn't attacking him.
He can smell Matt's blood, see the way his chest is gashed open. Smitty's tull body clinging to him, pupils blown wide, growling under his breath.
Honestly the whole scene will make him throw up if he thinks about it, so he makes himself not-think. He knows his own situation was a one in a million outcome, this is very much a life or death scenario for Matt.
"It's OK," Droid says looking over to encourage him, the beta doing his best to hype the other up. "you're OK, John, you've totally got this."
John however, does not have this.
John in no way shape or form has this under control. This, crawling toward an enraged alpha that snarled and warned off Pezzy, their packmate, just minutes ago, is a horrible fucking idea.
If Grizzy were here, this would be his job. He'd probably order Smitty to calm through fuck down as he crawled….
Actually, if Grizzy were here, instead of the next town over looting with Puffer, Matt wouldn't have ended up unconscious and badly wounded. (Probably.)
Fucking hell.
Smitty growls even louder for a moment. John freezes and doesn't quite manage to hold in his whimper. Sweat breaks out all over his skin.
He hates this.
The anxiety is running rampant, right under his skin and it is only the thought that Matt could bleed out and die if he doesn't get medical help soon, that keeps John in control and he moves another shuffling slide forward.
"Yo Smit, it's okay man. It's just me. You're Okay." John tries to soothe the other.
“Good idea.” Droid calls over.
"John. Are you there?" It's the first time Puffer has said anything, voice coming through the walkie talkie Droid is holding.
“Kinda busy man.” John grumbles, turning back to Smitty whose eyes are bright red and staring him down.
"If he's growling at you of all people, you're probably right on the edge of where he can smell. His vision is probably just locked on to Matt, so he's relying on scenting. In his mind, he can smell Matt, blood and now you, so now he's probably getting the idea that you might be in danger as well. He's freaked out because he thinks in his alpha brain that there's still a threat. He probably just wants to protect you. You know how Smitty is."
John almost snorts. Of course he knows how Smitty is! He also knows how rough Smitty had it growing up, very similar to himself.
John did a lot of reading since he finally discovered he was an omega. He knows what normal alphas and normal omegas and normal betas do, how they react in general. He knows that environmental factors in childhood greatly influence their reactions when shit hits the fan. He also knows that none of his friends are in a situation that could be remotely described as normal.
Also John doesn't even know if he smells like a normal omega, after everything that happened to him. (He's honestly afraid to ask.)
Strangely surviving a zombie bite and becoming a weird hybrid wasn't well documented, most people just died full stop.
So basically, he could choose to believe Puffer, believe that Smitty could be trying to non-verbally tell him to come closer so he could keep him safe.
Or..
He wants John to back the fuck away before he rips his throat out.
There's a lot riding on the ‘or’ in this scenario.
"Can you try to get a few steps closer? Just like three okay? Three steps, and then we'll stop and see how he reacts." Grizzy suggests kindly.
“Yeah, he's gonna be chill with you, trust me. Just an overreaction.” Puffer says, nonchalantly.
John is stuck, and he just nods.
Knowing his fear is irrational does not actually help. Puffer's patronizing attitude, however grounded in good intentions, doesn't really help.
Puffer speaks as if John hasn't been made to do this a hundred times, doesn't know the steps to placating his best friend better than any of them. Sometimes Smitty would get worked up or moody, and John would be the one to seek him out and sit nearby, allow the other to scent him, just to calm down.
But that was before the world went to shit.
John takes a few steps forward, as suggested and stops.
Grizzy's soothing voice coming through the walkie helps. A little. He shuffles forward a few more steps.
To John's surprise, the pitch and volume of Smitty's growling changes again, interrupted by questioning huffing noises.
Smitty is clearly trying to communicate, but he's too far in alpha brain to be able to do so. John slowly comes closer and closer, keeping his eyes down and his body language loose. He doesn't make any quick movements, not wanting to trigger the alphas fight or flight.
The anger quickly melts out of Smitty's scent, being replaced by mostly worry. By the time he is next to the fallen display stand that Smitty had dragged Matt to, John is convinced himself it is safe enough to kneel next to them.
Smitty quiets down.
Slowly, so much more slowly than he thought he could move, Smitty cautiously reaches a hand out to John.
John huffs out a breath and tilts his head into it. Smitty strokes through his hair, and there is another one of those questioning noises.
John must smell somewhat familiar, however Smitty is probably focusing on the fact his skin is still damp with fear-sweat and scent. John shakes his head out of the trace he almost fell into, of being safe near his alpha.
"Okay," he says, locking in, because he has to.
Time is more likely to kill Matt than anything at this point. "Okay, we're all going to be fine." He keeps up a quiet one sided conversation, hoping to soothe both the alpha and the poor injured omega.
John keeps his eyes down and neck bared, bond mark clearly visible as he quickly opens the med kit. "Can you guys shine the torch over here towards us now?"
John winces, finally getting a good look at the wound. It's not good. Smitty doesn't react to John's expression, too far gone in his head to process that.
John gets to work stopping the blood flow, packing the wound before quickly counting his heart beat. He shakes his head at the slow pulse rate. It's way too low for what it should be.
He's not sure what to do to Matt with a heart rate that low. John really wishes he had more medical training at this point. He readies another thick wad of medical gauze and ducks a little away from Smitty, turning his eyes to the younger. He is struck with an idea on how to be less on edge.
"Yo Smitty... I mean um, alpha, could you help me help Matt please?"
John doesn't think Smitty's really aware of anything happening yet, but he does take the gauze from him after a moment.
Giving him something so he feels he's helping fix the issue seems to slightly relax Smitty. John wipes blood away from Matt's skin next to the wound quickly.
That damn thing's talons had pierced right through Matt's makeshift armor and raked across his chest and abdomen. Thankfully, the lines don't look deep enough to hit anything critical, just deep enough that they haven't stopped bleeding.
Actually- he bends close, sniffs. Something smells wrong. Something rotting? A weird scent? It smells wrong..
Please don't be infected…
Smitty thankfully hasn't stopped John’s investigations yet, but this will definitely make him consider it…
John huffs out a breath as he dares to get what he needs for a sterile wash out. The best he can do is use boiled water with a little salt in it. He quickly removes the now bloody gauze, nodding approvingly at how the flow has slowed before he quickly gets to cleaning the wound up.
"Hold him still, please alpha, we can't risk him getting infected." He waits a few seconds and begins. Smitty jerks a little, growling, but doing as John asked.
Matt doesn't react at all. It's worrying.
John speeds up, focusing solely on Matt. It takes a few rounds of water rinsing before the wrong smell is gone.
At this point, Smitty takes a deep sniff and lets out an approving rumble. Smitty then lets John guide him into holding the gauze pad firmly over the worst of slashes and only grumbles a little when John has to wind long strips around Matt's torso to hold everything in place.
When Matt is as stable as John can get him, he reaches into the med bag, before he hands up a clean spare water bottle to Smitty, thinking the younger must be thirsty after all the drama.
Smitty cautiously opens it, sipping a little bit himself before he begins to slowly drip feed it to Matt.
John sits back and watches curiously. Smitty has obviously done this before, to someone, because he is patient about tipping a sip into Matt's mouth and stroking his throat to stimulate him into carefully swallowing before he gives him more. After half the bottle is gone, he starts to stroke Matt's hair a little and say the occasional word to him in French.
It still surprised the others when Matt and Smitty would use French phrases to each other, giggling like it was an inside joke because of where they were born.
John sighed, nervously touching his last remaining ring. If this were a hospital, someone would set up an IV, probably, maybe get some donated blood into Matt. But this isn't a hospital. Those are long closed, looted and destroyed. He has to pray Matt is strong enough to pull through this.
When Smitty is done feeding an unconscious Matt the bottle of water, he hands it back to John, who sets it on the floor. He puts one hand over the bandages and then holds the other out for John.
John pauses, considering for a long moment. It's not urgent for him to keep Smitty calm anymore. He could move away.
He looks at Matt, the omega looking so small and lifeless. John frowns, scooting over more.
He shuffles forward so he is next to Smitty, near the display. Smitty puts a hand on his head, then his shoulder. The words he says are quiet, so he prays the others don't catch them, blushing.
No such luck, of course.
Droid snickers, before clearing his throat. "He said-"
"I speak a little French bro…." John closes his eyes, nuzzling into Smitty’s shoulder.
But it's been a long fucking time since Smitty told him he was a very good boy.
It's...nice.
He ignores the snickering from the rest of the pack. He's glad the mood has lifted enough for some joking.
Matt groans quietly, making everyone freeze.
"Hmm arghhhhhhh fuck..." he whines.
John quickly grabs the water bottle, getting some painkillers out. He passes them both to Smitty who seems to understand. Smitty softly coaxes the other into taking the medication, purring nearby to calm Matt.
"How do you feel?" John asked quietly, not wanting to agitate Smitty.
Blarg whined slightly before whimpering. "Like I've been cut in half John... thanks for patching me up though. I'm gonna... I'm gonna sleep more." He mumbles out.
John smiles softly, watching Matt curl up against Smitty.
"Good to have you back man.." he whispers to himself.