Chapter Text
“Dock five,” Erik repeated, checking Azazel’s messy handwriting again. This was dock five, so this must be the boat he was looking for, but to call it a boat seemed a woeful understatement. A gigantic luxury yacht sat before him, pristine and glorious, especially luminous compared to the dirty fishing trawlers and cracked speed boats surrounding it.
Erik shrugged, adjusting his grip on his toolbox and taking the little boarding bridge onto the lowest deck. “Hey!” he called. “Hello!”
A dark-haired man’s head popped over the railing on the top deck. “May I help you?” he called down, a light accent to his voice.
“Yeah, I’m the electrician.”
“Ah, one moment please.” The head disappeared.
Erik took a moment to once again study the massive ship and wonder just what the hell it was doing in this podunk coastal town instead of somewhere expensive and exclusive. Even the metal of it felt different than the surrounding ships, more solid and rich.
The man had finally made his way down to Erik, a polite smile pasted on his rather handsome face. “Hello,” he greeted, manners impeccable. “My master called for you. We’re having trouble with the power on the top deck. The air conditioner won’t turn on.”
Erik raised a brow at the use of the word “master” but decided an easy paycheck was worth letting it slide. “Show me.”
The man nodded and led Erik up two decks until they reached the top of the boat, which was an impressive height. Another man was there, lounging on a cushioned bench at the bow of the yacht in a ridiculously small blue speedo and an open robe.
“Janos,” he said, words slightly slurred. “It’s hot.”
“Yes, sir,” Janos replied immediately, picking up the nearby wine bottle and refilling the lounging man’s glass. “The electrician is here to fix it.”
The drunk, mostly naked man turned blurry blue eyes on Erik. “Why, hello,” he drawled, his lips curling into a small smirk.
“The AC,” Erik prompted, ignoring the obvious come on, and Janos nodded, leading him along the outside of the cabin to the small closet that held the machine before excusing himself to return to his no doubt high maintenance master. Erik determined the problem quickly and easily with a sweep of his powers, and glad to see it was a relatively simple fix, set to work. The outrageously drunk man’s posh voice carried from the around the corner where he was chittering to his servant.
“I hope it’s fixed quickly. I’m surely going to die if it’s not. Can I have some more of that delicious wine? Thanks, darling. Oh, and where’s Sebastian?” Erik stiffened, accidentally bending the wire in his hand. “I haven’t seen him all day.”
“He’s gone into town to pick up a few things.”
The man huffed out a laugh. “I’m sure he did. I hope he gets his dick wet there so he doesn’t bother me.”
Erik’s brows raised, but he didn’t need to get caught up in rich people’s idle gossip. He threw himself fully into his work, blocking out the inane conversation. He was so focused that he didn’t even hear the padding of footsteps behind him until a sudden shadow appeared over him, giving him mild relief from the heat of the sun.
“Is it fixed yet?”
Erik, from his crouched position, turned to the face the man, his eyes tracing up the lightly muscled legs, over the bulge in his speedo, up his flat stomach, past his light pink nipples and finally settling on his face.
“No,” he said, and the breeze blew then, carrying with it a sweet scent that Erik inhaled despite himself.
An omega.
He should have guessed. Omegas were the most rare designation, but Erik had known a few in his life, and they had always been just as hardworking and headstrong as any alpha or beta. The upper classes, however, treated their omegas differently, pampering them like a prized pet and making sure they never saw a bit of hardship in their lives. That this little piece of fluff was a spoiled brat came as no surprise.
“Could you hurry? I’m really quite hot.”
Erik gritted his teeth. “I’m working on it. It’s easier without interruptions.”
“Rude,” the omega said with a frown, but he turned away, swaying slightly as he made his way back down the deck. Erik’s eyes caught on the bond bite on the back of his neck, and that explained why Erik hadn’t noticed his scent the moment he’d stepped on board. Mated omegas still smelled good, but their scent was mixed with their alphas’, dampening it and making it less appealing to others.
Shrugging, Erik got back to work and managed to finish in good time. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he made his way to the front of the yacht again. “AC should be working now.”
“Lovely,” the lounging omega said, taking another long sip of wine. “Janos, be a dear and turn it on.” Janos nodded and went into the cabin, coming back out a moment later and propping the door open so that cool air could flow out onto the deck. “Perfect.” The omega smiled contently, completely uncaring about the sheer amount of power he was wasting. No wonder the AC had burned out.
“Pay him,” the omega ordered, adjusting himself on the bench, letting his pale thighs fall open lazily. Erik tried not to look and failed miserably, only managing to drag his eyes away when Janos returned with a wallet nearly bursting with cash. He set down his toolbox on a nearby table and began to write out the receipt with the total. The omega slid from his seat, walking on unsteady legs to check out Erik’s toolbox like a cat with a new toy.
“Don’t touch it,” Erik ordered, not looking up from the form he was filling out. A loud crash had him dragging the pen halfway across the paper in surprise, and he whipped around to find his tool box upside down on the deck and the majority of the tools rolling off of the side of the yacht. Even with his quick reflexes, he only managed to catch two with his powers before they were over the edge.
“Oops,” the omega said, then started laughing, a bubbly, drunken giggle.
Erik nudged him out of the way, and he fell aside dramatically with a squawk that Erik ignored as he knelt to take stock of what he’d lost. “What the hell? You just knocked more than half my tools into the water!”
“You shouldn’t have put it so close to the side of the yacht!” the omega shot back.
Erik turned wide eyes on him. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one at fault here, you messy drunk!”
“Excuse me?” He looked like he was attempting to put his hand on his chest to signify his shock, but he missed slightly and it landed on his stomach instead. “You are very, very rude.”
“Ah, sir,” Janos tried, but the omega interrupted him.
“Escort him off, Janos!” he cried, jabbing his finger at Erik. “He’s trying to punish me for his own mistake! He’s an asshole!”
“I’m an asshole?” Erik asked, incredulous. “You’re a spoiled little bitch!”
The omega’s jaw dropped in sheer offense. “You’re horrible. I’m not going to pay you a dime.”
“What?” Erik looked down at his now half-empty tool box. “You need to replace these.”
The omega stood and planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t need to do a damn thing.”
Erik jumped to his feet, getting in the omega’s face. “Now listen here--”
Janos’ arm shot out, holding Erik back, and the omega smirked up at him. “An aggressive alpha threatening a mated omega? Oh my, Janos, shall we call the police?”
Erik balked. “You need to pay for the work I did and the tools I lost,” he said evenly.
“Give him one hundred dollars, Janos, no more.” The omega went back to his perch on the cushioned seat, spreading out in the sun. “We’re done here.”
Erik gritted his teeth as he was escorted off and handed a measly one hundred dollars, which wouldn’t even begin to cover the costs. He stood on the dock, glaring at the yacht with all his might. He thought about searching out a part to break, something important and expensive to sabotage, but no, these rich people knew who he was and they weren’t principled at all. They’d contact the police, and Erik would lose everything… again.
In a fit of pique, he searched out the AC he’d just fixed, and with enough concentration to leave him panting, he shorted it out. Smirking, he made his way down the dock.
It took three tries to get his old beat up truck to start, but it finally sputtered to life, and Erik began to make his way home. He pulled out his cell and called Azazel, telling him about the entire incident, his blood boiling as he recounted it.
“Sucks that your first job here turned out to be something like that,” Azazel said. “If they call again, we’ll refuse to send anyone. Let me check the name again.” There was a beat of silence. “Dock five, Charles Shaw, yes?”
Erik nearly lost control of the car, but managed to right it with his powers, pulling over onto the shoulder instead.
“What?” he grit out.
“Charles Shaw,” Azazel repeated. “I know you hate that name, but…”
“No, it’s not that,” Erik said. “He’s got a husband named Sebastian. The yacht-- did he give you the name of the yacht?”
“The Caspartina.”
The same name that had been on the picture in Shaw’s office. A picture of him and his friends on a yacht with smarmy smiles, looking down on Erik as he’d begged for more time.
Erik saw red. “It’s him.”
“Erik,” Azazel said quickly, voice taking on a warning tone. “Don’t do anything rash. You can’t afford to do anything rash.”
Every muscle in Erik’s body pulled taut, and the metal of the car creaked ominously around him. Of all the people in the world to be humiliated by, of course it would be Sebastian Shaw’s fucking omega, and of course Erik would be powerless to do anything. He should have pushed harder to be paid his fair and owed amount. He shouldn’t have backed down like some kind of coward, slinking away with his tail between his legs.
“Erik,” Azazel said again, patient but insistent. “You’re going to have to let this go. Shaw’s taken enough from you. Don’t let him take more.”
Erik’s hand was clenched so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white, but he let out a long slow breath and said, “You’re right.”
***
Erik pulled onto his property with his mind still reeling. He tried to compartmentalize, fold up his feelings and tuck them away, but the urge to maim something hadn’t completely left him. As the house came into sight, he spotted another car parked out front in the shade of the trees. It was a fairly new and clean blue sedan that looked out of place in front of his shabby house with its peeling paint and rickety, uneven porch.
The screen door opened and out came a woman dressed primly in a blouse and slacks, glasses hanging around her neck. “Mr. Lehnsherr?” she called.
“That’s me,” Erik said, shutting his car door with too much force. “And you are?”
She stuck out her hand and Erik took it. “Moira MacTaggert. I’m a teacher at Randall Elementary. I came to meet my new students who have just moved in and I find two seven year-olds alone for hours with a six year-old. Care to explain?”
Erik winced. “I just had a few quick errands to run, you see.”
She looked unmoved. “You need to have someone here to watch your children. They told me this is a pretty common occurrence ever since their grandmother passed.”
Erik forced out a smile he hoped looked semi-natural. “They like to exaggerate. Not common at all.”
She studied him closely, her eyes narrowed. “If I come back here next week and find these kids alone again, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to call CPS.”
Erik kept his face cool even as his heart began to pound. “I understand.”
Erik watched the car until it disappeared out of sight. Pietro was the first to burst out of the house, running straight to Erik and slamming into him hard enough to knock the wind from him, his words coming so fast Erik couldn’t begin to make them out. Wanda followed soon after, closing the door on Lorna who was trying to follow and sticking out her tongue at her. “Loser!” she said and dashed to Erik, tugging on his jeans.
“Don’t say that to your sister,” Erik scolded half-heartedly, exhausted.
“I’ll say whatever I want to her!” Wanda said. “She sucks.”
“Yeah!” Pietro agreed, the first intelligible word Erik had heard from him.
From behind the screen door, Lorna burst into tears.
Erik sighed. This was his life. He was going to have to find some way to deal with it.
***
Charles was in the bedroom, drinking wine straight from the bottle when the yacht began moving, signaling that Sebastian had finally returned.
“My sweet,” he said as he swept into the room, “I heard you had an unpleasant day. Would you like to talk about it?”
“No,” Charles said unequivocally. “I’d really rather not. And where have you been?”
Sebastian smiled indulgently, sliding onto the bed next to Charles. “Taking care of business at home to make sure I can continue to keep my pretty omega happy.”
“You’re a dear,” Charles said, not at all meaning it. Sebastian’s mind was as blurry and hard to touch as usual, some side effect of his mutation. Charles was rather glad for it. He didn’t want to know what the snake of a man got up to. Sebastian laid his hand on Charles’ bare thigh, squeezing lightly.
“How about a kiss?”
Charles pressed a quick, perfunctory peck to his lips and then took a long, deep drink of wine. Sebastian was watching him with hard eyes, but he sounded pleasant when he spoke. “How about a walk outside on deck. It’s a beautiful evening.”
Charles didn’t want to go, but if it meant Sebastian’s hand would no longer be on his thigh, an evening walk sounded lovely indeed. “Let’s then.”
Charles reluctantly left the wine bottle behind and they went out into the cool night air, setting a slow pace. Sebastian took Charles’ free hand and rested it in the crook of his arm as if they were at some fancy party as they continued to stroll, only stars and the moon casting light in the darkness.
After a few turns, they stood at the bow for a rest, leaning their elbows on the railing and looking out into the dark water. The coastline had already faded into the distance, and Charles idly wondered where they were heading next, not that it particularly mattered. His head was light and full of the happiness of drink and even Sebastian standing right next to him couldn’t ruin it. In fact, as much as Charles hated to admit it, Sebastian smelled quite good tonight, his alpha scent making Charles’ palms sweat. He’d need to find those birth control pills he’d smuggled on board soon, he realized, scolding himself for not tracking his heat more carefully. The last thing he needed to do was actually get pregnant with Sebastian’s child.
“What’s on your mind, my love?” Sebastian asked, his voice soft.
“Children,” Charles said honestly, hoping that was an answer he wanted to hear. And yes, the brightening of his mind declared it was the right answer indeed, though Charles felt he might be ill.
He forced the nausea down. Better him than Raven. Whatever else Charles had done in his life, he’d never regret saving his little sister from becoming Sebastian’s bride.
Sebastian pressed a kiss to Charles’ neck, his lips tracing the bond bite, and Charles swallowed against the warring feelings his own body, the urge to pull away and push into the touch equally strong. “You are exquisite,” Sebastian said, his lips dragging over Charles’ skin. “This really is too bad.”
Charles barely had time to blink in surprise before he was shoved, toppling over the railing and falling through the air. He hit the water hard, the icy cold knocking the breath from him.
He came up sputtering and trying to yell for help, but he was choking on water and the salt was scratching against his throat. He struggled to stay afloat, but his desperate strokes faltered against the strength of the waves. Sebastian was still standing there at the railing, staring down at Charles with a serene smile on his face as the yacht continued to drift farther and farther away. Charles sent out a last desperate telepathic cry for help, but his legs were giving out and his hope was fading. Finally, exhaustion took him, and he sank into black.
***
Pietro threw a piece of his waffle into Wanda’s face and she screamed, scooping up a spoonful of runny eggs and launching them at her brother. She missed and they landed in Lorna’s green hair instead, sliding out slowly and plopping onto the table.
“Stop it,” Erik snapped at the twins, but it was too late and tears were already forming in Lorna’s eyes. Trying to avoid a complete meltdown, Erik pulled her into his lap, dabbing a napkin at her hair and rocking her gently.
Azazel was watching the whole exchange looking rather amused. “The joys of parenthood.”
Erik shot him a glare, but the effectiveness was lessened when he had to cut it short to stop Pietro from sticking his fingers in the syrup jar. Luckily, the diner was mostly empty and the waitress, Angel, had a soft spot for kids. She’d proudly showed off her wings to them the last time they’d come in, and Wanda had declared she’d wanted that mutation when she grew up. Erik didn’t fully understand Wanda’s powers still at this point, but he was beginning to suspect if she wished hard enough for wings, it just might be possible.
“Looks like work isn’t an option today,” Erik said with a sigh. “I don’t know where I’m going to get the money for daycare. Mama didn’t have any savings.”
“I thought you moved back here because it’s cheaper,” Azazel said, yanking his tail away from Pietro’s questing hands.
“It’s cheaper, yeah, but it’s still not free.” Erik put his head down on the table and Wanda put eggs in his ear. He swiped them out without even bothering to scold her. “I need a nanny.”
“That you do. Or a new wife.”
Erik frowned up at him from the table. “No.”
“It’s been six years, Erik.”
“No.”
“Fine,” Azazel put up his hands in surrender. Erik knew his childhood friend was just trying to be helpful, but the last thing he needed was another lecture. “I’ll stay out of it.” Azazel turned away to watch the old, slightly off-color TV in the corner. They were reporting on local weather and the strong tides when a reporter cut in with breaking news.
She was standing outside of the local hospital Erik had passed a few times in town with a serious expression on her overly made up face.
“Jim, we’ve got a developing story down here at Weatherford Hospital. A man was found unconscious this morning on the beach by a local fisherman. He was rushed to the hospital where I’m being told he was treated and has woken up. We’re waiting for more information, but they have released a picture of the man and are hoping to find his family.”
Erik fumbled his coffee mug and liquid splashed onto the table, making Wanda exclaim with glee as she began to fingerpaint with it.
“They’re describing him as five foot six inches and about 140 pounds with brown hair and blue eyes,” the reporter continued, but Erik didn’t hear it, his mind shutting down completely at the sight of the photograph of Charles Shaw, pale and confused, but unmistakable on the screen.
“That’s him,” Erik said and Lorna looked up at from where she was pressed to his side.
“Who?” she asked at the same time as Azazel did.
“Charles Shaw,” Erik grit out.
“That’s him?” Azazel asked. “Well, can’t say Shaw has bad taste.” He caught sight of Erik’s expression and the teasing dropped from his voice. “Erik,” he said warningly.
“I’m going to go see him,” Erik said, tone allowing for no argument as he slid from the booth.
“What? Why?” Azazel asked. “It’s over, Erik.”
“It’s not over. He owes me money.” Erik looked around at his three kids with what he hoped was a cowing glare. “Be good for Azazel.”
“Erik, wait! You’re letting your pride get in the way here!”
Erik didn’t dignify that with an answer, storming out of the diner without a backward glance. He’d been given a second chance to prove he wasn’t to be messed with. He wasn’t going to let Shaw’s omega get away with this.
***
The nurse at the front desk was delighted to hear that Erik knew their patient. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, wringing her hands. “The doctor has been so worried.”
“Worried?” Erik asked as she began leading him down the hallway. “Is he injured that badly?” Not that Erik really cared, but he didn’t want to come across as a complete sociopath.
“Oh, no,” she said. “But it’s better if the doctor explains it to you. I’m afraid it will come as quite a shock.”
“What will?” Erik asked, but the nurse just looked at him with sympathetic eyes, saying nothing. The nurse knocked on the door frame, and the doctor in the room turned, his appearance startling Erik. He was giant and blue and furry and by far one of the most intimidating mutants Erik had ever seen. His clean white coat and smart glasses didn’t dampen his beastly look at all. Erik was so struck by him that it took him an extra moment to notice that the bed was empty and Charles was near the window, pacing back and forth in the small square of sunlight coming in.
“He knows our mystery man,” the nurse said, and the doctor’s face broke out into a smile with sharp teeth.
“What great news!”
Charles stopped pacing, turning from the window to look at Erik, his eyes widening. He looked completely different from yesterday’s luxurious spoiled omega, wearing a pair of too large scrubs, his hair a tousled mess and his freckled cheeks pale. “Do you,” he asked, his voice small and unsure, “know who I am?”
“Of course,” Erik answered, wondering just what game this little brat was playing now. “You’re Charles--” But Charles let out a small sob and dashed across the room, throwing his arms around Erik and digging his face into the crook of Erik’s neck and scenting. Erik stiffened immediately, his arms hanging limply by his sides.
“This is just wonderful,” the doctor said. “I’m so glad it all worked out. See? I told you your mate would come for you.”
Charles nodded, his nose still buried in Erik’s neck. “Thank god you’re here,” he whispered against Erik’s skin. Erik blinked helplessly.
“I’m not--” he started, but Charles pulled back far enough to look up at Erik with his bright blue eyes shining with tears, and the words died in Erik’s throat.
“We’re going to need to talk to your mate,” the doctor said kindly, laying a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “He doesn’t know what’s going on yet.”
Charles nodded, finally releasing Erik completely and the sudden loss of warmth was jarring. He wiped ineffectually at his eyes. “I understand.”
Erik didn’t. Erik had no fucking idea what was going on and his panic must have shown on his face because the doctor led him out of the room with a surprisingly strong hand on his back. Charles made a whimpering sound as Erik disappeared out of sight.
“I’m Hank McCoy,” the doctor said as he guided Erik to an office, sitting him down and shutting the door before taking a seat behind his desk. “You must have had a very difficult night. May I ask why you didn’t report your mate missing?”
“My mate…” Erik repeated dumbly.
“I know this must all be coming as quite a shock to you.”
You have no idea, Erik thought.
“We believe he spent a significant amount of time in the water,” Dr. McCoy explained, “but we’re not sure how he ended up on the beach. He must have fallen from a height because it seems mild head trauma is the cause of his amnesia.”
“Amnesia?” Erik asked.
Dr. McCoy’s lips thinned. “He doesn’t remember a thing.”
Erik blinked.
“I know it sounds bad,” the doctor continued, “but there’s no reason to believe the memories won’t return, especially if he can surround himself with the familiar, like you and his home and his possessions. We’ve run every test we can think of, and he’s physically just fine, aside from his scenting ability.” Dr. McCoy adjusted slightly in his seat. “You know how sensitive an omega’s sense of smell is, I’m sure. Well, he inhaled enough salt water to nearly drown himself and it appears he’s damaged some scent receptors.”
Erik felt dizzy.
“Are you alright?” Dr. McCoy asked. “You look a bit pale.”
“Yes,” Erik said, barely registering his own words. “I’m alright.”
“I know that it must be sad to hear that your mate was hurt and can’t even properly scent you, but I promise this is something that will also heal and return with time. If it causes trouble with heats in the future, we’re more than willing to work with you on hormone treatment.”
“Uh, thank you,” Erik replied, half-listening. His mind was a million miles away, combing through possibility after possibility as the doctor continued on about more details of scent-damaged mating that Erik didn’t care to hear.
Charles Shaw had no idea who he was. Erik wasn’t going to be able to get a penny out of him, so he was useless. This whole trip down here had been a waste of time.
But Charles Shaw also thought Erik was his alpha. Erik knew the proper thing to do was to clear up the misunderstanding, but…
Well, there was another option. Something that could fix quite a few problems in Erik’s life and make sure that Charles properly paid Erik back for the tools he’d lost. Erik thought about Moira and CPS and his filthy home. He thought about his kids whom he loved more than life itself, even if they drove him nuts, and the unbearable threat of losing them.
Erik may have been lacking in many good qualities, but decisiveness wasn’t one of them. He took a deep breath and interrupted Dr. McCoy’s speech on scent therapy. “Thank you so much for taking such exceptional care of my mate, doctor. When can I take him home?”