Chapter Text
This is what Wise calls ‘When shit hits the fan’. It was supposed to be a harmless weekly restocking, no interruptions, no disturbance from PubSec because hey, they had their business licence renewed a week prior. However, one wrong turn and a chaotic event later, where it involved grabbing hands and chloroform, Wise finds himself and Belle trapped in a room, with a group of sick and dirty children.
“This…” Wise scans the room, his hands wrapped around Belle to keep her safe. On instinct, he releases his omega scent, in hopes it can calm his sister down.
A peek slot on the steel door slaps open. A pair of eyes, filled with malice, stares down into the cell, “Consider yerself lucky tha’ we’ve still got some potential goods left, or Boss would’ve kept ya fer himself. Not everyday we’ve got an omega, after all.”
What –
“Wise,” Belle tugs at his sleeve, and Wise’s gaze returns to the children around them.
It seems like his scent has begun to affect them, and it’s like a breath of life into their weak bodies. Wise can see their fingers twitching, even their small, thin chests inflating as though they just inhale their first breath. The children look around, confused and exhausted. Their lips are chapped, there are bruises under the steel collars around their necks, on their skinny bodies hidden under a sorry sight of cloth. When their gazes meet, Wise is hit with a strong protective instinct that he instantly opens his arms to welcome them in.
The reaction is immediate; they scramble into Wise’s arms, squeezing in, knocking into each other just to have a whiff of his omega scent. There are at least seven children trapped with them, and Wise struggles to keep them close. Even more so when some start to wail, presumably just in touch with grim reality.
“Oho, Boss was right; it worked! An omega scent is all they need ta’ stay alive,” that disgusting voice cheers.
“You despicable being,” Wise grits, “How long have you been keeping these kids here?! They’re almost – ” and the wails grow louder, probably affected by his spiking scent from his anger. Wise returns his attention back to the children, worried and concerned. He mutters apologies under his breath to appease them.
“Ya’ dont need ta’ know tha’. Just shut yer trap and be their mommy – that is all ya omegas good at, yea?” that voice sneers. “Do yer job well, and we won’t take yer sister away from ya.”
Alarmed, Wise yanks Belle close to his side and shoots a heated glower at the slot. An audible snort comes from the door, then the slot snaps shut. Once the footsteps completely fade, only then Wise lets out a deep sigh of relief. He hears Belle do the same, presumably exhausted from the thick tension.
“Wise, this…” Belle whispers.
Wise takes in his surroundings. The cell is a hollow cube of steel, one-way in, no windows, with a small lamp hanging in the middle as the only source of light. No telling of time passed in here. Disorienting by design, with the purpose of a total isolation and zero stimulation. As an omega, he’s gifted with a sharp nose, and he can smell a faint pungent scent in the air. One glance at these children is telling enough.
“We’ve been kidnapped,” Wise says grimly, and he doesn’t need to say aloud that these kids have been kept here longer than a week.
A sniffle slips from Belle’s lips, and Wise quickly pulls her into a side-hug. It starts with a small sobbing before growing into a full-blown crying. Wise lets Belle bury her face in his shoulder, close to his scent gland, fully aware that realisation of their grave situation has finally crashed in Belle’s mind, hence the outburst.
“It’s alright, I’ll keep you safe,” Wise smothers his promise in Belle’s hair, even if their future seems bleak.
…
When he thinks the worst has passed, he thinks wrong.
Wise doesn’t get it; everything looks fine. It takes him, perhaps, hours or the entire day to calm the children down and learn their names. Apparently, they have been locked in this cell for over two weeks. According to their stories and his mental calculation, these kids could’ve been completely broken within three days in captivity if it wasn’t because of the omega lady who had been diligently blanketing them in her scent to protect their minds.
Everything looks really fine. They’re given a small portion of bread and water, barely enough to feed the children, but they make do. Belle rips a small part of her sleeve, soaks it into whatever is left of their drinking water, and tries her best to clean their young faces. Colours start to fill in their cheeks, eyes alight with hope, not too much, but an improvement, nonetheless.
Everything looks fine, until it isn’t.
They wake to the sound of the slamming door. A bright light bathes over the dirty floor in the form of a rectangle. A burly man, accompanied by two guards, armed with guns, storm inside. Immediately guarded, Wise and Belle put themselves between the terrified children and the men.
“Ah, they look better,” the burly man grins, revealing his crooked teeth, “Good job, omega.”
“The hell you want,” Wise hisses.
“Retrievin’ the good, ‘f course,” and before Wise can process everything, the burly man grabs one of the kids by their collar.
Belle shouts, “Let go of Alex – ”
By no means is Wise an athletic person. He’s a computer guy. He sits in his chair, going through codes, numbers and accounts; it’s a simple life, no strenuous physical activities needed. In his dictionary, a brisk walk around Sixth Street an hour a day is sufficient to maintain his health. Nothing more, nothing less. In short, there’s no way he would be able to fight a man twice his size.
However, in this flee-or-flight situation, his omega instincts have taken over his mind. That sense of protection ingrained deep inside Wise has him clawing at the extending arm, deep enough to leave a trail of scratching marks across the skin, and the man yelps out in pain.
Again, by no means is Wise an athletic person.
Despite the adrenaline spike, he sees a flying fist too little, too late. The impact on his cheek spreads to his skull and rattles his brain, enough that Wise feels the world spin around him. His eyes roll back into the back of his head , and he collapses in a heap on the floor.
“WISE!!”
“Serves ya fuckin’ right, bitch.”
“MAMA – ”
Wait, no, Alex –
He slips into unconsciousness.
…
It gets worse after that.
A child is taken away from him every other day, judging from the turns of meals getting sent in and out of the cell. Every time he watches another child cry out his name in their desperate attempt to struggle free from their disgusting hold, his heart breaks more and more and more, that omega inside of him screams louder and louder and louder. Wise tries to fight them each time, only to be punched or kicked back into the cell, resulting in more bruises on his body and Belle’s worry.
They hurt, these bruises, but these – these are nothing compared to his bleeding heart, shattered and wounded as he fails yet again to protect these children. His children.
“Belle – Heidi, they took Heidi– Belle – ” and he can still hear her cries in his ears, loud, scared, traumatised. It’s like another part of his soul is being ripped away.
Belle holds onto him tighter, tucking his face in her racing pulse even though she has no scent as a beta. Holds onto his trembling body. Holds onto him as tightly as her strength allows her, hoping the slight pain can ground him back to reality.
“I’m sorry, Wise,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry – but Sjal and Travis, they’re still here with us, right?” she tries, because there’s nothing else she can offer.
“Heidi – she – ”
“I’m so sorry.”
Hours, or perhaps it’s longer than that, have passed before Wise comes back to himself, with a broken omega tucked away inside him. He finds himself with a lapful of sleeping Sjal and Travis, the last pair of children under his protection. His left shoulder aches when he tries to reach out for Sjal’s messy pigtail, presumably from the harsh landing against the floor after taking the punch in the gut.
“Hey, hey, don’t move too much,” Belle rushes to his side, with a damp ragged cloth, “You landed on your shoulder. It’s probably not dislocated, but it’s definitely swollen.”
“...yeah,” Wise agrees, grateful for Belle’s help as he tries to sit up. His gaze runs over Travis and Sjal in his lap. He can see tear streaks on their faces. Oh sweet children… “Belle, how long have I been… out?”
“No meals have come in yet, so I guess it hasn’t been a day,” Belle says, unsure.
“I see,” Wise looks up at the ceiling, notices his gaze turning hazy, but comments nothing on that. “We need to escape, Belle.”
“I know, I know, it’s just – ” Belle twiddles with her thumbs, all stressed out and hopeless, “How? You can barely move and those guards – we don’t even know what it looks like outside.”
He turns his head to Belle, and gets hit with a dizzy spell – no, no time to dwell on that. “Sjal and Travis – they will be taken away next, and I – I can’t, Belle. I can’t. These kids – ” Wise said before he places his good arm over the children to emphasise his point.
“I know, they’re part of your pack now. Your little pups,” Belle puts her hand over Wise’s, “But – ” only to have her words cut short, and Belle yanks her hand away, shocked, “Wait, your hand, Wise!”
“What?”
“Crystal – Ether crystals are forming on your skin!!”
Wait, what –
True to her words, Wise sees small black crystals littered across his fingers. It’s a sign of Ether corruption, but how – no, this means this place is located in a hollow, most likely with the lowest Ether concentration. It makes sense to have a base in a hollow, away from authorities, and with such a low Ethereal concentration and normal spatial stability, it’s practically a jackpot.
But this is bad news for Wise. He’s been pumping out his omega scent to keep the children calm and safe. It makes him more vulnerable to corruption. The grief from witnessing his pups taken away from him causes mental distress, and his body goes into a shock. The combination of these two are more than enough to lower his Ether aptitude, therefore higher risk to get mutated into a monster.
The fact that he can feel the heat symptoms because of the continuous scenting with the pups doesn’t help his case, either.
Exhausted and almost resigned to his fate, Wise lets out a tired laugh, “This is… very, very bad.”
“No! No, no, nonononono, don’t say that. I won’t – I won’t let that happen. Not on my watch!” Belle springs to her feet and stomps towards the steel door. Then she begins to bang on the door, once, twice, more and more, “HEY, YOU BASTARDS!! GIMME AN ANTI CORRUPTION SERUM, NOW!!” so loud that her scream wakes the pups.
Wise collects the confused pups into his arm, “Belle, please – ”
“DO YOU GUYS HEAR ME?!” more loud banging on the door.
No response.
“WISE NEEDS THE SERUM!!!” followed by louder banging.
Still, no response.
“WISE NEEDS THE SERUM!!!”
No response still.
“Belle – ”
“SOMEONE!!!”
“Belle…”
“PLEASE!”
…
What it feels like an eternity, finally the door opens once again. Without any support from the door to hold her up, Belle falls onto the floor, just to receive a kick on her abdomen by the captor before Wise can stop the man. The pain slows him down, but Wise uses all his strength to get to his sister’s side. He flips her over and cups her face.
“Belle, Belle, look at me,” Wise says, hopeful. Her eyes flutter open, followed by a groan, much to his relief. He snaps his head up at the captor, glaring, “What the hell was that?”
“She made too much noise,” another voice interjects from behind.
A blonde male comes forward into the cell. Clad in a fur jacket and a white t-shirt underneath, completed with a pair of jeans and boots, it seems like he is in his twenties. No scent comes from the man; it’s either he’s using a suppressant patch or he’s a beta. Wise takes notice of a long scar across the side of his face beneath his hair. When a smile tugs onto those lips, all Wise can see is malice.
“Fret not, I’m very well aware of your… issue,” the man purrs.
Alerted, Wise hides his hand away. He hisses, “Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, so rude of me for forgoing the introduction,” he cackles, his laughter echoing in the cell, evil and cold, “The name’s Lucius – well, you can say that I’m the boss around here.”
“You…” Wise bares his teeth, fury simmering just beneath his skin.
“Nu-uh, don’t gimme that when you have another serious issue to focus on. For instance…” the bastard crouches down to meet Wise at eye level, then tips Wise’s chin up with his finger, “Your corruption level. If my calculation is right, you’re going to mutate within… five hours.”
“Piss off – ” Wise tries to slap that offending finger away, only to have his wrist caught in a tight grip.
“Easy there, tiger. You might want to be on your best behaviour,” the bastard purrs, “I do have the anti-corruption serum, y’know. I can give you one but there’s a catch.”
Wise struggles to get his wrist free from the grip, but the heat symptoms and the Ether corruption has robbed away most of his strength. It takes him almost everything just to stay awake, never mind taking down guard.
“You’re about to enter heat, yes?”
– no.
“Tell you what, omega – surrender yourself to me, and I’ll give you the serum. A great offer, yes?”
Fuck. No.
Anger bubbles up in his chest. If it wasn’t because he was in a weak state and Belle laid unconscious on the floor, he would’ve clocked this bastard. “A great offer? While we’re in captivity, trapped in this stinky cell? What irony.”
“Better fuck you stupid right here, right now, yes?” that bastard smirks, “But alas, shit like that doesn’t turn me on. Too much hassle, too much struggling, too noisy; I might just fuck an Ethereal. That amount of effort just to get laid? Hah, I’d rate it no higher than forty.”
“You’re sick in the head,” Wise spits.
“Part of my charms, I suppose,” that bastard has the gall to look delighted at the insult, face brightening up, “Anyway, yay or nay? You can accept my offer, be my bitch – maybe like for a few days or so – and return back here as a normal, healthy omega, or… you can stay here, mutate into an Ethereal and kill everyone in the cell before we kill you in the most gruesome way you can possibly imagine. Your choice, really – I am that nice, after all.”
Probably one of the worst choices he’d been given in his life. Not that he has any other options, though. As much as he despises this bastard, he’s spitting the truth. This corruption doesn’t only pose risk to him, but to Belle, and Sjal and Travis as well. There’s no doubt they will be the first few victims the moment he mutates into the Ethereal.
His hands coated in their blood – no, he can’t let that happen. He can’t.
But his body, his soul, his mind.
No.
Just no. He can’t be selfish right now. He has no right to be selfish. He’s dealing with the life and death of innocent souls. Whatever happens to him, he can deal with later.
He –
Wise opens his mouth. Swallows the painful lump in his throat. Then tries again, “On one condition,” he says, despite himself, despite his trembling body, despite his wavering voice, “Let go of these kids and Belle.”
“Oh?”
“Let them go and I’ll be your bitch forever.”
A delightful glint flashes in that evil eye. “A tempting bargain, but we need to, uh, remind you of something. Those two kids behind you; they’re my goods, so you don’t have the final say. Your sister, however – well, that depends on your stellar performance. Impress me well, and I might release your sister.”
A shitty bargain. Wise is very much tempted to rip that throat off with his teeth.
“So… what do you say?” the bastard said in a sing-song voice.
Wise looks up at those eyes filled with malice, then at Belle’s face, unconscious, then at the pups. Sjal tugs at his back shirt, while Travis winds his small arms around his elbow, tears pooling in their eyes. His heart breaks at the mere thought of being away from them, but the crystals on his hand are a stark reminder of him being a threat to them.
“Don’t go – Mama, stay – ”
Left with nothing else to say, Wise turns around and gathers them into his good arm. A lump of raw emotions forms in his windpipe, thick, painful. His voice breaks a little when he says, “Be good, alright? Take care of Belle for me,” and he releases more scent, just to appease them.
“Mama – ”
“I won’t be long.”
And it hurts him to utter such a lie to such innocent pups. His innocent pups.
…
He’s left alone in a makeshift bathroom, with a guard standing outside the door. Wise scratches the bruise around his wrist left by the handcuff. Even though he’s now chosen as that bastard’s bitch, it doesn’t mean he gets better treatment from his underlings. To them, he’s nothing more than their lord’s fucktoy.
Judging from the short walk around the place, Wise can conclude that they are in an abandoned warehouse. Crates, caged steel, and chains are stashed in the most corners. He dreads thinking about the purpose behind them.
No. No time to hesitate. He ought to study the layout for any possibility of escaping. Routes, security rotation, armoury, even suppressants; anything can contribute to a smoother escape. Maybe he can try –
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE GOT RAIDED?!”
What –
“NOT JUST RAIDED, WE’RE BEING ATTACKED BY ETHEREALS TOO!”
And on cue, a siren blares across the warehouse, loud, ringing, overwhelming. Then comes the sound of explosions and gunshots. Growls and screams, both pained and murderous, pierce the air. The floor shakes from the tremor. Wise’s sharp nose picks up on a mix of metallic and burning scents.
Belle, his pups –
On high alert, Wise bangs on the door, once, twice, more and more and more, desperate while he twists the knob violently in hope the door opens, “What do you mean – a raid?! Ethereal attack?! Hey, bastards, say SOMETHING – ”
A gust of wind suddenly rushes over him.
What, wind? How –
When he turns his head to the right, he’s met with a collapsed wall and the open world. He’s no longer in confinement, with the view of the desert stretching across the horizon. He can see the bright blue skies. He can smell the earthy ground.
Everything is perfect except for… the single energised Farbauti. It looms over Wise like a menacing sentinel. A deep growl rumbles across its entire humongous being. Towered by the monster, Wise feels like he’s no more than a bug, easily crushed with a single strike.
His heart thunders in his tight chest. Flee-and-flight instincts are screaming at him. The omega inside him cowers under the oppressive presence. His palms are clammy. His throat bobs as he tries to swallow the lump in his windpipe. It feels painful just to breathe normally.
The Ethereal raises its massive arm high in the air. Wise’s heart thumps once in his chest.
Then swings down –
Moving on instincts, Wise jumps out of the way in the nick of time. Just before that massive fist crushes his head down on the ground. Like a watermelon. Dread slides through his body. His senses are all heightened. Fear begins to seize up his throat.
No…
Wise watches as the monster raises its fist again – a crack on the floor, what the hell. Fear and adrenaline pushes him into action, and he sprints away from the monster’s reach. That prompts the monster into chasing him, leaving a trail of destruction with its arms in its wake. Every smash, every explosion, every roar, urges him into running faster because no, no, no, nonononono, he isn’t going to die here, not like this.
But alas.
But alas, his body has been weakened by the ether corruption and heat symptoms. His breathing is too short and quick, no time for a deep breath, not enough to pump oxygen needed by his muscles for running. His vision slowly becomes hazy, clouded by his traitorous heat. His omega scent thickening, whether it’s from fear or the heat, he isn’t so sure anymore. He can feel himself slowing down, can feel himself turning sluggish.
…help –
His nose suddenly catches a faint scent of smoke, cigarette and… motor oil?
Then he suddenly finds himself flying across the air. It feels like the world has been set into a slow motion, seconds stretching into minutes, minutes into hours. One glance over his back, and oh, he thinks, he’s been swatted away by the monster. He must have been very taken aback by that scent that he didn’t realise the monster had caught up to him.
What a dumb way to die.
“Oh, who woulda thought I’d be catchin’ an angel in my arms today.”
…alpha?
Instead of the ground, he finds himself in the arms of an alpha whose body is sturdy and muscular beneath that leather jacket. He finds himself staring at his own reflection on those shades. He finds himself slipping into unconsciousness, lulled by that… burning scent.
“Wait! Don’t go faint on me – ”
“Lighter, what did you do?!”
“No, Lucy, I didn’t do shit!!”
And then darkness.