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Standing there, hands raised, face set in shock from the burst of pus that came your way instead of Whitaker, who made the first cut for a draining tube. Cheeks ballooning with air, letting it out in a frustrated sigh, allowing the smell to enter your nose.
Fighting the gag bubbling up your throat, hearing the patient's apologies alongside stifled laughter. Head snapping to the open door, seeing Langdon standing there, beyond amused at the sight. Cringing at the sound of the thick liquid dropping to the floor, walking out of the room, leaving Whitaker behind.
"Help him finish the tubbing," you say, calmly in passing. "Can't. I have a waiting patient," he says, moving out of the way.
"Then find someone who can!" You shout, causing everyone's eyes to be on you.
Ignoring most of them, hands staying raised, moving through the ER towards the staff lockers. Carefully putting in your code, breathing in only small breaths, trying not to vomit up lunch. Collecting the extra sweater and worn pants you had stored away for this exact reason.
Using the cleanest hand to hold them, walking towards the bathroom. Wincing at the sight of yourself in the mirror, the mix of pus and blood covering the front of your shirt starting to drip down your legs.
Slowly slipping off your scrubs, turning them inside out before allowing them to touch the floor, not needing another mess to clean up. Cursing at yourself for not just throwing on an undershirt that morning, even if they all were scented with Robby and Jack's pheromones, you'd take Gloria breathing down your neck.
Pulling up the sleeves of the jacket, picking up your old scrubs, dashing out of the bathroom before any patient with a strong nose could get even a whiff of you. No longer having the scrubs that were washed in scent-blocking soap, still hoping that the smell of any of your alphas would deter an interested one.
Scanning your badge at the scrub exchange, hearing the beauty beep, taking the vomit-inducing mess. Closing the hatch, picking the option for another pair, receiving an error noise.
'No Scrubs Available'
"Fuck," you whisper, exiting the prompt, picking out another size.
'No Scrubs Available'
"No, come on," you whine, picking another size.
'No Scrubs Available'
Neck itching with sweat, your face heating up with frustration, smelling your distress hormone in the air. Cursing again, standing in the open hall, reeking of what you are, unable to go back to work.
"I can smell you across the ER," a deep voice whispers from behind you through their teeth. "I know!" you bite back, looking over your right shoulder at Jack. Watching him scan his own badge, receiving the same message.
"Yours isn't going to do anything different than mine, Jack," you explain, defeated.
"I have a senior attending badge, so it should," he comments, mindlessly poking around the screen, as if he had anything over your resident's badge.
"They changed it. No matter your ranking, you have to exchange scrubs. No more unlimited scrubs for attendings," Robby says, behind you, placing his blue sweater atop your shoulders, helping to cover up the smell of omega in the air.
"Bullshit, says who?" "Gloria," the two go back and forth. "Stop, it's out of them anyway. I'll just rub a bunch of scent cream on myself and be careful of which patients I take," you say, causing the men to look at each other, witnessing their meeting of the minds.
"You'll wear ours," Jack chimes in first, eyes meeting yours second. Furrowing your brows, looking between the two, noticing your alpha's shoulders start to puff up, straightening.
"What?" you ask, head swimming, thinking you hadn't heard him correctly. "You're going to wear our scrubs for the rest of the shift," Robby repeats, placing a hand against your back. "We are not going to have you walking around like this. Gloria would be up all of our asses," Jack explains, stepping a bit closer, eyes flickering between you and Robby.
"Like what? Myself? I can't help what I smell like, Jack, you know that." You argue, shifting both of the men's moods.
Medical school had been hard enough as an omega, you didn't need the two alphas who slept next to you every night to make the same comments your professors did. Chemically burning your skin constantly, putting on scent-blocking cream at the beginning of your schooling and career, unable to take physical scent blockers, symptoms always breaking your body down. Robby and Jack knew that more than anyone in your personal life.
"We can't do this here, please just change into our scrubs," Robby inserts, eyes meeting his gaze, brows thrown up with a look you had no option but to listen to.
Walking back towards the bathroom, Jack going first, coming back out with his scrub shirt, wearing only his undershirt. Robby going in next, taking a few minutes to grab something from his locker before coming back out with a pair of new pants and handing you his old cargo pants.
"Wait, you had scrub pants already, why couldn't I just wear those?" you ask, pointing them out. "Because I needed something to change into," he says, placing his pants atop Jack's shirt in your hands.
"But-" "Just go and change, sweetheart," he says, holding the bathroom door open.
Shaking your head in disbelief, entering the cold one-toilet bathroom, changing into both of your alpha's clothing. Pulling at their bagginess, standing in front of the mirror, unimpressed at the look, while still feeling a bit relieved. Smelling a little less stressed, opening the door, met with only Jack, who's wearing a new scrub shirt.
"You too! You could have just given me this," you say, pinching his shirt, pulling at it. Watching a smirk stretch across Jack's lips, hand touching your back, walking both of you out of the hall.
"You smell better," he says, leaning close to your ear. "Yeah, I smell like you two now," you complain, stopping at the hall's entrance, looking around the busy ER.
"See you at the end of your shift," he whispers, in case Gloria is lurking around, like you hadn't run the relationship by HR.
"Alphas," you curse a whisper underneath your breath.
Spotting Whitaker, walking up to him, feeling a bit of envy at his clean-fitting scrubs. "Whitaker," you say, stopping the student in their tracks. "Did you finish that tubing?" you ask, causing his head to nod.
"Yeah, Dr. Langdon helped me with it after you left," he explains, noticing his eyes looking over your new outfit. "Sorry I left so abruptly, I should have guided you with the rest," you apologize, ignoring the elephant in the room. Truly feeling bad for leaving him behind with the mess, stacked in a field with mostly alphas and betas, looking out for your fellow omegas in the field.
"No, it's okay, I understand, I've been through a change of scrubs before," he says, nodding at his answer. "Okay, thanks, I'll come and grab you when I have another good case. Not a messy one," you explain, watching him nod with a bit of excitement.
Going your separate ways, starting back at the hub, scanning the hot mess of the broad. "Which of them was it?" glancing towards the voice, seeing Dana smile, looking down at a chart. "Both of them," you sigh, peering back up at the board.
"Should have guessed, those two are a pack around you," she comments, the beta laughing to herself before walking off.
"Well, look at you," a voice says behind you, soul leaving your body when hearing it, eyes closing shut as Langdon pulls up beside you. Opening them to glance at the man, seeing his fat smirk.
"The machine was out of scrubs," you say curtly.
"I know, I took the last ones," he admits, flashing a death glare at the man. "Well, I'd better get out of here before they get a whiff of me next to you," he leans in to say, walking off before you could say anything.
Picking a case off the screen, a low risk in N-02, only an omega needing a scent blocker injection, simple enough. Walking towards the rows of curtains, pulling back N-02's, met with the sight of a lone omega sitting on a bed. Meeting her eyes, seeing the fear in them as her nose flares, seeing her heartbeat rise on the monitor.
Gently introducing yourself, moving towards her, noticing her body pressing into the bed. "Can I please have an omega doctor?" she asks in a small, hoarse voice, eyes looking your body up and down as if assessing your danger.
"I'm an omega doctor," you reply, grabbing some gloves out of the box on the wall. "Then why do you smell like an alpha?" Her voice becomes louder. Nodding your head, all of it making sense, looking down at your clothing, her eyes following them.
"I had a bit of a clothing mix-up," you respond, lying, not needing the patient to think the hospital was a Grey's Anatomy episode. "With an alpha?" "Yeah, it's a long story," you laugh, smiling at her, receiving one in return.
"Okay, so I hear you just need a scent blocker injection," you say, reaching out to them, feeling around her neck, finding the swollen scent gland.
"Yes, my doctor was booked until next year, so I came here," she explains. Opening up the medication cabinet, grabbing the vial, setting out the other things you need.
Nodding your head, "It's that good you came here, I know some omegas who wait and damage their bodies," you say, wiping down her neck with a cold sterilization wipe.
"Okay, it's just going to be a small pinch," you warn, quickly give her the shot, then placing a bandage over the site. "All done," you chime, starting the process of disposing of everything used. "Thank you," she whispers, relaxing in the bed.
"You're all set, just relax for the rest of the day, and your scent should fully disappear when you wake up tomorrow," you explain, taking off your gloves throwing them away as well. Opening the curtain, allowing a nurse to enter, finishing up your patient for home.
Walking back towards the hub, seeing Dana laughing with another nurse, only to lose the sight. Falling forward onto the floor, hands softening the landing, still causing a loud slap as your body meets the floor. Groaning, picking yourself up off the floor, seeing your shoe caught in the hem of Robby's pants.
"Careful, kid. Come on, let's sit you down," you hear Dana in your ear, helping you off the floor. Limping over to the station, sitting at Robby's desk, unhooking your foot from the pants' hem.
"Did you hit your head?" Dana asks, placing a hand on your back. "No," you sigh, feeling everyone's eyes on you, embarrassment prickling heat across your cheeks. "Okay, just rest here for a minute, you need anything? A cup of coffee, water?" she offers, always having a soft spot for you, being one of two omegas in the whole pitt.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," shaking your head. "What happened?" Robby's voice comes from the side of you, glancing at your alpha, watching him take off his glasses.
"Your pants tried to kill me, that's what happened," you say. "Are you okay?" he says, looking over you for any injuries. "Yes," you sigh, looking away, feeling more than defeated. "I have two hours left on my shift, I think I'm going to see if someone can come in early," you say as Robby rolls the chair you sit in away from the computer.
"Why is that?" He asks, typing something in. "I can change pants with you again, so you don't trip," he offers, soft brown eyes looking at you.
"It's not just the pants, Robby. I'm done smelling like you guys, it's interfering with my work. I just want to go home," standing up from the chair, walking out of the hub. "Let's take you home then," he says as you pass behind him. No responding, only walking off towards the lockers.
Calling every night, a resident you knew, finally getting one to come in early. Opening your locker, quickly grabbing your bag from it. "You're going home?" Jack's voice sounds behind you. "Yeah, I'm tired," you reply, turning towards him, walking past your alpha.
"Let me or Robby take you home," he says, walking with you towards the waiting room. "It's fine, Jack, please," you say. "Please," he begs, stopping in front of you, looking into your eyes, seeing the distress on his face. Breathing in a big sigh, caving in under his hazel eyes.
"Okay," you whisper, seeing him nod, moving quickly back to the lockers. Phone squished between his cheek and shoulder, calling whoever to cover his shift. Leaning against a wall next to the psych rooms, waiting, looking over the ER, watching some nurses chase after a patient down past the trauma rooms.
"Okay, we're ready," Jack announces next to you, along with Robby. Noticing your confusion, he speaks up. "I got some to cover, we're going home together," he explains, holding up his phone, backpack over his shoulder.
"Come on," Jack whispers, placing a hand on your back. All three of you walk out the door into the waiting room and out the doors of the hospital.
Breathing in the evening air, just barely after seven, the sky blooming with blue, purples, and reds as the sun sets. Two hands take hold of yours, both of your alphas holding your hands, walking down the road. Feeling all the overwhelming feelings of embarrassment, anger, and frustration wash away, block by block, until arriving at the building of your shared apartment.
Walking in, down the hall, noticing a guy waiting at your door, delivery bag in hand, looking towards the three of you. "Here," Jack says, pulling out his wallet before handing the man money, taking the bag smelling of food from him.
"Ordered your favorite," Jack says, holding up the bag, showing it off as Robby opens the front door. Smiling, fighting a frown, overwhelmed, not with stress, but with love and guilt. "Sorry," you say, lips quivering, a sob bubbling up your throat.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Robby asks, pulling you into his side, walking you into the apartment.
Digging your head into his chest, shedding a few tears, hearing Jack close the door behind you, before wrapping his arms around you. Both showering you in kisses, atop your head, cheek, and temple.
Laughing at the tickling attack, breaking away only as your laughter gets louder, looking into Robby's eyes, witnessing his brows press together softly.
"I'm sorry, I said I was done smelling like you two," you apologize, looking over your shoulder at Jack.
"You don't have to apologize for that. We should have been a bit more professional about clothing choices," Robby soothes, hand cupping your cheek.
"We got protective because everyone could smell you," Jack whispers into your shoulder, arms still wrapped around you. Smiling, happy to clear the air as the sound of all three of your stomachs calls for the food in the bag.
Both of your alphas give your cheeks a kiss before moving over to the couch, sitting in the middle of the two. Jack ripping open the bag, checking each plate before handing them out.
Munching on the hot food, watching the show playing, curled up into Jack's side, legs resting atop Robby's lap, acting as his table. Picking up some of your food, holding it up to Jack, feeding him with the return of some of his food. Doing the same with Robby, wanting a second bite of your food before giving you some of his.
Basking in the smell of your alphas, their scents embedded in the environment around you, and your nose being so close to their scent glands, the scrubs could do little to block their heavy scents. Warmth floods your body, allowing your glands to relax, hearing your two alphas hum, smelling their happy omega in the air.