Work Text:
Until My Last Breath
Morning hovered between night and dawn, a delicate hush clinging to the world.
The cool air carried a sense of promise, fragile and new.
Jeff stirred, feeling strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into a familiar cocoon of cedarwood and warmth.
He turned, smiling sleepily as he tucked himself against his husband, breathing in the scent that always soothed him.
“You’re late again,” Jeff mumbled in protest, his voice barely above a whisper, as it was consequently third day Alan was late home.
Before he could say more, he felt a kiss press against his forehead—a silent apology.
The soft crackle of the baby monitor broke the stillness.
A tiny, urgent cry.
Their little one needed them.
Jeff sat up, tucking the blanket around Alan’s resting form.
"I'll go," he whispered. "You need sleep, Phi."
He padded down the hall to their son's room, picking up the wailing bundle and cradling him close.
He hummed a soft lullaby, soothing the baby until tiny fists reached out and clutched his silver chain—Alan’s mating gift—the one Jeff had never once taken off.
Settling into the rocking chair, Jeff rocked their son gently, the steady creak filling the quiet.
"Alvin Alan Hemmawich," Jeff whispered against the baby's head, "stop copying your dad already."
He pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, smiling at the tiny, stubborn spirit nestled against him.
In the doorway, Alan stood, silently watching.
His heart swelled at the sight: Jeff—his brave, beautiful mate—and their tiny miracle, framed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
Jeff’s face, peaceful and serene, reflected a deep, hard-won contentment.
Alan marvelled at the strength it had taken for Jeff to reach this place—trusting, loving, mothering—after everything they had endured.
After Tony.
After Way.
After all the battles Jeff had fought inside himself.
Alan stepped closer, careful not to wake them.
He lifted Jeff and the baby with ease, carrying them back to their bed—their safe place—and wrapped them both in his arms, sealing them in warmth and love.
In the hush of the new day, Alan made a silent vow:
No matter what came, he would protect this family with everything he had.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting the room in a soft gold.
Jeff blinked awake to Alan’s gentle voice.
"Phi, it’s past eight," Alan said, brushing a kiss across Jeff’s forehead.
"You need to get ready for the investor meeting."
Jeff groaned dramatically, dragging himself upright and shuffling into Alan’s waiting arms.
"I missed you this morning," he murmured, stealing a kiss that promised more—if not for the baby’s sudden fussing.
Alan pressed his forehead against Jeff’s, chuckling.
"Our little munchkin doesn’t like to share his dad."
From the very start, Alvin had Alan completely under his spell.
He preferred Alan's arms, Alan’s scent, Alan’s steady heartbeat.
Alan’s whole life revolved around their son—and neither of them minded one bit.
But today felt different.
Jeff couldn’t explain it—the feeling slithered into his chest, cold and certain.
He had told Alan about it before—the vision where he saw Alvin only with one of them, never both.
He shook the thought away, focusing on Alvin’s little hands tugging at his shirt.
Since Tony, their lives had been nothing but blessed.
A family, a home, a Pack stitched together with love and loyalty.
But the dread clung to him, stubborn and heavy.
"What’s gotten into him today?" Jeff muttered, trying to sound casual.
"He’s clinging like he never wants to let go.
He’s even picked up your habit—holding onto my chain and resting against my scent gland."
Jeff settled onto the bed with Alvin, while Bronx—their golden retriever, their first baby—curled up beside them protectively.
Bronx had been a gift from Alan, and Alan often joked:
You got Bronx, and he loves you more. I got Alvin, and he loves me more.
Yet today, Bronx refused to leave Jeff’s side.
The pup trailed him everywhere, pressing close, refusing to be brushed off.
At breakfast, Jeff couldn’t keep the worry from his voice.
"Phi... can you skip the garage today?" he asked quietly.
"I have a bad feeling. Like something’s about to happen."
Alan’s arms wrapped around him, his Alpha pheromones filling the room with steadying calm.
"Nothing will happen," Alan promised. "I’m here. I’ll protect you and our family."
Jeff still hesitated, but then nodded.
"Just finish the meeting quickly. Come home.
I’ll set up a Pack Nest... it feels like we need it today."
Alan agreed without hesitation, sealing the promise with a lingering kiss to Jeff—and another to Alvin, who stubbornly refused to release his father’s collar.
"See? Even Alvin knows something’s up," Jeff teased, trying to keep it light.
Bronx barked in agreement.
Alan gently pried Alvin’s fingers free and walked toward his car, calling back over his shoulder:
"I love you."
Jeff smiled, but a sliver of unease stayed lodged in his chest.
He had changed since becoming a husband and a father—he was fierce, protective, stubborn in ways he hadn’t even known possible.
He watched Alan drive away, Alvin cuddled against his chest, Bronx pressed at his side.
In the rearview mirror, Alan caught one last glimpse of his little world—his mate, his son, his Pack—and whispered a silent prayer.
He didn't dare tell Jeff, but the truth was...
He felt it too.
That same gnawing fear.
That same sense that something terrible was coming.
Jeff returned home, leaving Alvin and Bronx playing in the living room while he prepared for the Pack Nest.
Their home—their fortress—felt warm, safe.
He paused at the fridge, smiling at the photos pinned there.
Five years ago, he would have laughed at the idea of trusting anyone outside of Charlie.
Yet here he was: friends like North and Sonic, who spoiled him; Babe, gruff but caring; a husband he adored; a Pack that called him family.
The pictures whispered one thing over and over: You are loved.
He finished the Nest in the Pack room—a space meant for all of them, even though only Alan and Jeff lived here now.
His phone rang for the sixth time. Alan again.
Jeff laughed as he answered.
"Phi, we’re fine! I promise. Finish your meeting and come home. I’m taking our son for a bath. I’ll leave my phone downstairs, okay? I love you too."
Even so, they talked another fifteen minutes before finally hanging up.
Alan would be home soon. The Pack would join them by evening.
Peace settled around Jeff as he carried Alvin upstairs, filling the tub with warm bubbles and toys.
Bronx sat nearby, ever vigilant.
Then—suddenly—Bronx shot downstairs, barking ferociously.
Jeff stiffened.
Only Pack members visited... and none were expected today.
Heart pounding, he wrapped Alvin securely in a towel, setting him safely on their bed surrounded by pillows.
Alvin fussed, clinging to Jeff’s silver chain.
Jeff’s chest ached.
He had never once taken that chain off—Alan’s mating gift.
“It’s okay, baby. Papa will be back, I promise."
He unclasped the chain with trembling hands, leaving it in Alvin’s grip, and hurried downstairs.
"Bronx!" he called.
He found him collapsed on the floor—bleeding.
Motionless.
Jeff fell to his knees, cradling his first baby, his heart breaking.
"That mutt of yours is dead, Ai’Jeff."
The voice sent ice down his spine.
He looked up.
Men. Guns.
And in the centre—smirking—Kram.
Tony’s Biological son. He could see the same Madness burning behind his eyes.
Kram always wanted to be the best for this father, but Tony always preferred special kids like – Babe and him over his ordinary son.
Instinct took over.
Protect the pup!
Jeff bolted for the stairs, hearing laughter echo behind him.
He caught sight of Kram’s men following, made a split-second decision:
He slammed Alvin’s door shut, locking his baby inside.
Their eyes met one last time—Jeff’s and his son’s—through the crack of the door.
A silent promise: I will protect you.
Rough hands grabbed him.
A blow to his head sent him crashing into the mirror, glass slicing him open.
Another hit to his ribs.
Another fall—down the stairs—down into helplessness.
They dragged him to Kram’s feet.
"Look at you," Kram sneered.
"One of Dad’s favourites. And you repaid him with betrayal."
Jeff, dazed and bleeding, tried to speak— but Kram’s slap silenced him, splitting his lip open.
"NOT A WORD about my father!" Kram bellowed.
Jeff’s gaze darted to his phone—hope—but Kram smashed it to pieces.
Around him, the wolves closed in.
And upstairs, his baby waited.
Time was slipping away.
Jeff’s first instinct was to protect Alvin.
He struggled to his feet and bolted toward the stairs.
But the men grabbed him by the neck, slamming him into the mirror.
The impact split his scalp and sent him tumbling down the stairs, pain radiating through broken ribs and bruised limbs.
He was dragged by his hair to the centre of the living room, where Kram sat, grinning.
"Ai Jeff, don't run away!" Kram taunted.
"You have no idea how much effort it took to find you and your little pack. You’re the reason my dad is dead. You! He gave you shelter, food—you were one of his favourites’—and you betrayed him!"
Jeff’s dazed eyes darted toward the phone on the couch.
Kram noticed and smirked, picking up the device and smashing it to pieces before ordering his men to destroy all communication lines.
Kram checked his watch.
"Ah, time for your Pack Alpha to come home," he said mockingly.
"Let’s finish up."
He pressed a gun to Jeff’s forehead.
Jeff closed his eyes, bracing for death.
“It’s no Fun! Let’s do one thing, I will give you slow death so that stupid Alpha of yours can see as well Dumb brother Charlie can watch you die” and Kram shot Jeff in his stomach. Jeff groaned in pain.
Jeff collapsed, gasping in agony, blood pooling beneath him.
“As your dying, let me tell you why you are dying – You and your stupid pack is the reason my dad is not with me. And you people chose to stand against him because of Love, Babe’s for Charlie and Alan’s for you. Do you know when does a Pack get weak, when their Alpha is weak and easiest way to weak Pack Alpha, is to kill their mate. Simple! Kenta and Jeff down, more 5 to go” Kram said as explained Jeff.
Jeff’s body screamed in pain, but his mind stayed focused on one thing—Alvin.
Then—
The baby's cry sliced through the air.
Kram’s head snapped up, a wicked grin splitting his face.
"Oh... seems we have a surprise," he said, voice dripping with venom.
He signaled to his men.
"Go fetch the little brat."
Jeff’s heart slammed against his ribs.
"No!" he gasped, dragging himself forward, grabbing at the nearest man’s boot.
"Please, not my pup! Please!"
Kram crouched beside him, tilting his head mockingly.
"Relax, Ai'Jeff. I'm not a complete monster. We'll just... cool him down a little."
The men chuckled cruelly.
One of them called upstairs, "Boss, what do you want us to do with the pup?"
"My job’s done," Kram said coldly.
"Your Alpha will come home just in time to watch everything burn."
"Relax," Kram said mockingly.
"I’m his uncle, after all. I’ll just have a look."
Kram disappeared upstairs.
Jeff, bloodied and battered, dragged himself step by agonizing step toward the stairs.
Finally, he saw Kram emerging—from the bathroom, smirking.
"Ai Jeff, your little devil peed himself," Kram laughed.
"Don’t worry, I left him to clean himself up... in that spacious bathtub of yours."
Laughter echoed around the house.
Jeff’s vision blurred with rage and horror.
He tried to stand, but Kram’s men grabbed him, dragging him back down and leaving him in a pool of his own blood.
Kram straightened up and sneered, "Drop him in the bath. Let’s see if he can swim."
Jeff’s blood ran cold.
"No, please! He’s just a baby!" Jeff cried, clawing at the ground, struggling to stand.
But the men only laughed.
Footsteps thundered upstairs.
Jeff could hear the splash—the thud—the tiny, helpless wail cut off by water.
A piece of him shattered.
Kram sauntered back toward the centre of the room.
"There, Jeff," he said casually.
"Bath time. Maybe your precious Alpha will find him... if he’s lucky."
The men laughed again.
Jeff tried to scream, to rise, but they knocked him back down brutally.
"My time here is done," Kram sneered.
"We’ll meet again. No, wait—we won’t. Enjoy your trip to heaven, Jeff."
Before leaving, he gave one final order:
"When the Alpha arrives, injure him badly. Make sure he can’t save Jeff. I want him to watch his mate die."
They left Jeff there, bleeding, broken.
Meanwhile, at the garage—
Alan froze mid-sentence during his meeting.
The silver chain around his neck—his mating gift—snapped.
The break ripped through him like a knife.
Jeff. Alvin. Bronx.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He didn’t think. He ran.
"Family emergency!" he shouted over his shoulder, bolting for his car.
Charlie caught him just outside.
"Lhung! What's wrong?"
"I don’t know," Alan rasped. "But I have to get home—now."
Charlie, sensing something truly wrong, quickly signaled the Pack to follow.
Alan drove like a madman, fear clawing at his throat.
The house loomed ahead.
The front door was open.
No sound.
No laughter.
Just an eerie, suffocating silence.
Alan sprinted inside.
His world was about to shatter.
Alan rushed into the house, the metallic scent of blood hitting him like a wall.
He barely took two steps before his heart stopped.
Bronx.
His first baby.
Lying lifeless in a pool of blood.
And then—
A whisper.
"Phi..."
Alan’s gaze snapped up.
Jeff.
Crawling.
Broken.
Bleeding.
His mate—his heart—dragging himself across the bloodstained floor, reaching for him with trembling hands.
Alan sprinted forward.
But before he could reach him—
Pain exploded in the back of his head.
An injection pierced his neck.
Alan staggered, struggling against the chemical fog clouding his mind.
He forced his heavy eyes open.
Jeff.
Red eyes filled with tears.
A hand desperately reaching for him.
Alan tried to move, tried to reach back— but darkness swallowed him whole.
In those last moments, Jeff’s life flashed before his eyes.
Him—grinning nervously, asking for a job.
Their first kiss at the patio.
The day Alan vowed to be his first... and last.
The night Alan saved him from the auction.
The bittersweet day Tony died.
Birthdays, teasing, tears.
Bronx bounding into their lives.
Their wedding.
The moment they learned about Alvin.
The first time they held their son.
Alvin.
Jeff believed that in the time between life and death, you could make a wish strong enough to reach heaven.
His wish was simple:
Protect my family. Please.
And the universe listened.
Jeff’s eyes snapped open.
Pain screamed through every fiber of his being—but he didn’t care.
He dragged himself upstairs.
Found Alvin, floating limp and blue in the tub.
Jeff wrapped his son in a towel, cradling him close, trying to share what little warmth he had left.
Downstairs again—each step a mountain— he reached Alan.
Slapping his cheek, forcing him awake.
"Phi," Jeff rasped.
"Listen... I don’t have much time." Desperate attempt to wake Alan up.
Alan’s eyes fluttered open, horror and grief etched across his face.
"You must save our son," Jeff gasped.
"Promise me—you will not seek revenge. You will protect Alvin. You will protect the Pack. You will leave Thailand."
Alan sobbed, nodding, heart breaking.
Jeff pressed a kiss to Alvin’s tiny forehead.
"Baby... you are so loved, Papa Loves you!" he whispered.
And then— Jeff’s body went still.
Alan cradled Jeff for one breathless second.
Kissed his forehead.
And then he stood.
No time for mourning.
No time for tears.
Only Alvin mattered now.
Alan limped outside, the world blurring.
Babe’s car screeched into the driveway.
The Pack poured out.
Sonic reached him first, gently taking Alvin from his arms.
Charlie grabbed him.
"Lhung, where’s Jeff?"
Alan didn’t answer.
He pushed past them, heading back toward the house.
And he didn’t see it— the something ticking steadily down.
The trap Kram had left.
Before Charlie could follow— the house exploded.
Fire and ash swallowed everything they had ever built.
Alan stood there, smoke curling around him.
Home.
Gone.
Mate.
Gone.
All he had left— was the tiny, fragile life cradled in Sonic’s arms.
And the promise Jeff had begged him to keep.
Alan stood frozen, the flames from the explosion roaring behind him.
The house—their home—their memories—were all gone.
Jeff’s body lay inside, beyond saving.
Bronx too.
Everything he and Jeff had built together turned into ash in a matter of seconds.
Alan clenched his fists, breathing heavily, trying to keep his Alpha instincts in check.
He wanted to roar his agony into the heavens.
But he couldn’t.
Not now.
He looked at Sonic, who held Alvin protectively against his chest.
Alvin—their son—the last piece of Jeff he had left.
Alan stumbled toward them.
He reached out, his hand shaking, and took Alvin back into his arms.
The tiny body felt cold, fragile.
"Papa loves you," Alan whispered hoarsely, echoing Jeff’s last words.
Charlie, Babe, Sonic, North—all stood quietly, their hearts breaking for their Alpha.
Alan didn’t speak.
He didn’t cry.
He simply turned and walked toward his car, clutching his son like his life depended on it.
He had a promise to keep.
He would not seek revenge.
He would not destroy himself in grief.
He would honour Jeff’s last wish.
He would protect Alvin.
He would rebuild.
He would carry Jeff’s love forward.
Even in ashes, he would find a way.
Because that’s what Jeff would have wanted.
And because Alvin deserved nothing less.
The END