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Jean
Being trusted to guard an omega's nest is the highest honor an alpha can receive.
And Jean takes that honor very seriously.
It's why he doesn't let the floozies into his and Jeremy's room anymore, why he only lets Jabberwocky in it on strict occasions. Why, every Friday night, no matter how tired he is or how late he and Cat get home from a game or practice, he cleans the room top to bottom for Jeremy's weekly return on Saturday morning.
He dusts the bookshelf they bought and the tv Jeremy insisted they get, the picture frames scattered around the room; he vacuums the floor and scents the door, the window.
But tonight, just as he's stepping back to survey his work, Jabberwocky darts between his legs, and sends him stumbling.
Jean does his best to avoid squashing the little beast, and in the process, ends up going flying. He just barely manages to keep them both alive, and doesn't realize, until Jabberwocky is darting back out the door, that he landed on the bed.
On Jeremy's nest.
Jean turns, panicked, but it's too late. One of the walls Jeremy made has collapsed under his weight, the clothes and blankets Jeremy folded and layered so neatly now lie crushed and crumpled.
A distressed whine slips out of Jean's throat, and instantly, he is scrambling.
But he cannot remember how Jeremy managed to make the nest. He can only remember his shaking hands as he built it, and the way his scent went from nervous to excited to proud. Can only remember the relief of the Wilshires being out of Jeremy’s life forever, and of Jeremy finally being safe enough to build a nest of his own.
A nest that Jean ruined.
Don't go down that road, Xavier had told him when the house burned, but there is nowhere else to go, now. There is no one else to blame. Jean is the one that destroyed Jeremy’s nest, and Jean is the alpha who failed to fulfill his duty.
How could Jeremy ever feel safe with him again, when he ruined everything he touched? When he got Laila's house burned, and the Trojans hounded all summer? When he is no better than the Wilshires, who tore apart Jeremy's first nest? When he is no better than the Ravens, who tore apart the things he cherished the most?
"Please," Jean mutters to himself as he folds, and folds, and tries to get the wall to stay again, "please, please—"
But everything he does makes the problem worse. Trying to fix one blanket knocks the ones beside it down, sends the pillows tumbling from their positions. Reminds him, over and over, that he was never meant for this life. That his hands, crooked and bleeding and broken, were never meant for anything more than destruction.
Still, though, Jean tries.
He grabs his own shirts and tries to fill the holes he made, tries to rebuild the walls, replace the pillows—but it smells worse now, and it feels…wrong. And it looks—terrible.
Jeremy's safe place, ruined. All because of Jean. All because of the person who was supposed to keep it safe.
He never should have trusted Jean with it. Never should have trusted Jean, period. Because if Jean couldn't even protect a nest, how could he ever hope to protect Jeremy?
The thought nearly takes him to his knees. He crawls onto the bed before it can, into the ruined nest, and grabs for a shirt that still smells like Jeremy. Soon, it would smell like the rest, an awful cacophony of scents, of an unsafe, unfamiliar nest.
But for now, Jean presses it to his face, and holds onto the scent for all it's worth, because he knows that in the morning, both it, and Jeremy, will be gone.
Jeremy
The second Jeremy steps into the apartment, he knows something is wrong.
The air is heavy and sour with the scent of an alpha in distress, and immediately, Jeremy is on edge. Goosebumps prick the back of his neck, a feeling of dread settles in his stomach.
"Jean?" He calls as he bends to scoop Jabberwocky up, and when he gets no answer, finds himself rushing toward their room.
It's been—a while, since he's feared the worst with Jean, but now it all comes rushing back. The rumor that Jean had tried to kill himself at Fox tower, the call from Wymack telling him to keep his distance, Jean standing in the study, asking Jeremy to kill him.
And then it's all in front of him, as he gets to the doorway, and sees Jean curled in on himself, small as can be.
Jeremy's heart catches in his throat. Panic threatens to take him under. He sets Jabberwocky back on the floor, and clambers onto the mattress, and over to his mate.
"Alpha?" Jeremy calls, and tries to tell if Jean is breathing. He tucks his knees against Jean's back, and tries to coax him to roll over, to take his face out of the shirt he has it pressed against. "Alpha, Jean, sweetheart. What happened? What's wrong? What's—?"
Jean rolls over. He blinks his eyes open, looking confused for just a moment before something else settles in his expression. And then he shifts up, and tries to shift past Jeremy, but Jeremy refuses to let him.
Jean refuses to meet his gaze.
"I tried to fix it," he says, as miserably as he smells. "I tried, but I couldn't. And you—you trusted me to keep it safe. To keep you safe. But I couldn't even do that. I couldn’t even—I ruined it."
Jeremy frowns, and looks around. Jabberwocky is staring up at them from the floor, big brown eyes pleading and tail wagging, but he looks—good. Healthy. Sad that he's being excluded, but safe. So clearly, Jean can't be talking about that.
But then, what could he be talking about?
Jeremy looks around again, at the spotless floor, the spotless furniture, and then brings his gaze back to the nest.
The nest.
Is that what Jean’s so worked up over? Jeremy studies it. And sure, it's a little messier than normal, and a little more strongly scented, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what his nest looks like. It only matters that his alpha is in it.
"Oh sweetheart," Jeremy says. "You didn't ruin anything."
Jean gives him a look, but Jeremy shakes his head. He reaches up, and catches Jean's face in his hands, swipes his thumbs over Jean's cheeks, and catches the fresh tears trailing down them. "It's just a nest. I can always make another one."
"It won't be the same," Jean says, and the way his voice breaks breaks Jeremy's heart. "It was your first, and it mattered so much to you. To me. And I—"
"Nothing matters to me more than you do, do you hear me? I can make a new nest. I can make a thousand nests. But I could never find a new you. You're the reason I was able to build a nest at all. You're the reason I'm able to do what I love, the reason I'm here with you now, yeah?"
He waits, is unsurprised by the silence, and then adds, "And this is your first time with a nest, too. It makes sense that you don't know what to do. Or how to fix it. But I can show you, okay? This way, if it happens again, you'll know. And you'll see that it was just an accident. That you can fix it. That you didn’t ruin anything.”
Jean says nothing, so Jeremy stands, and pulls Jean up with him. He gathers a couple things—a few blankets, a few pieces of clothing, the fallen pillows—and ushers them, piece by piece, into Jean’s hands.
The first few times, Jean’s placement is wonky, his folding unsure, but Jeremy guides him gently, nudging him in the right direction, and directing his hands, his fingers, until slowly, the nest starts to look and smell more like it had, and Jean no longer smells as distressed.
When he’s finished, and the nest is back to normal, Jeremy drags Jean into it, and tucks him in close. Jean presses his face into Jeremy’s chest, and wraps his arms tight around his waist.
"See?" Jeremy asks, and presses a kiss to Jean’s curls. "Good as new. And still safe. Always safe with you, Alpha.”
He feels Jean exhale at the words, the tension drain out of him, and then slowly, gently (after finally letting Jabberwocky join them) feels them both drift back into sleep.