Chapter Text
Frank was Robby's favourite for a year before he was replaced by Dennis Whitaker, the new intern, catching Robby's interest and never letting it go. Frank became Robby's second choice and learned to live with it. The man one year behind him, firmly becoming the one Robby reached for, looked for, and wanted. Not Frank. He learned to live with it and found his place under the new order. Dennis was quick and sharp, and unlike Frank, had a steady, confident energy. Dennis was cool and professional with Frank, never hesitating to carefully remind Frank of his place as the years went on and they moved up the ranks in their residency. Someone once joked that they were the heir and the spare, and Robby brushed it aside, but the look in Dennis' large blue eyes told Frank how true it was.
He was partway through being a second-year resident when Jack pulled him aside and encouraged Frank to come see what it was like on the night shift, that he thought Frank would suit it, and he could really grow there. Frank didn't hesitate. He felt a little like a guilty child standing before Robby, repeating what Jack had said and asking to be transferred to the night shift for a rotation, just to explore it, to see if Jack was right. Robby agrees coldly, and Jack was right.
Frank thrives on the night shift, finding a groove and a place learning under Jack, Shen and Parker. He's on the night shift for a month before he's yanked suddenly without warning back to the day shift, and under Robby's immovable command and Dennis' reserved judgement. He finds out quickly that he's never allowed on the night shift for more than a week, before Frank is put back on the day shift once again. He doesn't ask why.
He doesn't want to make anything worse by asking.
It doesn't take long for the rumours to start about Robby and Dennis, how close they are, how well they can read each other, smell like each other. Dennis walks on the first day of the new year of residency with a fresh claim bite and reeking of Robby, even with the medical-grade scent patches, and Frank chokes down the sudden swell of jealousy. He doesn't need Whitaker to remind Frank he'll always be second place; he knows it. He still goes to the night shift, manages to get a whole month in, and shares a single double fist bump with Jack, the man giving him steady praise with the gesture during the handoff to the day shift. Frank feels his stomach flutter at the beta's smile. Robby doesn't assign him a night shift again.
Frank’s hands start to shake halfway through the day of PittFest, his new doctor refusing to fill a script for suppressants, the same suppressants his parents had put Frank on before he had a chance to have a proper heat. The suppressants they had put him on the moment he started showing signs of presenting. Frank never learned how to be an omega, never had a chance. His doctor was horrified, and he only found out later, desperate and scared, trying to desperately reach his old family doctor, the one who was supposed to be sending in his refills, that the doctor had his license revoked for malpractice and was under investigation.
There would be no more suppressants. He’s an asshole to Santos, only finding out after that she was Dennis’ younger pack mate and surrogate little sister. She catches him stealing suppressants, already starting to go through withdrawals, and everything explodes. He managed to take one before PittFest happens, and he doesn’t need to look at Robby to tell how angry he is. The alpha’s smell the fury cut through the blood, terror and mangled scents. He passes out in the middle of the ambulance bay after he argues with Robby and wakes up in a secure inpatient omega facility, stripped of his residency and fully reported.
There’s a tight look in the nurse's face when he tells them he has no family, alpha or beta, no one he can be released to when the time comes, and he’s in there for three months. Frank knows a centre like this, one this nice for the omegas who were considered the non-addicts, the redeemable ones, the still ‘innocent’ and fertile omegas, costs more than Frank could ever afford. He’s forced to take classes, one of three patients who had been put on suppressants too young and never fully allowed to present, to mature into proper omegas. They’re not betas, they’re not omegas, but something rotten in between.
They’re forced to learn how to nest, how to chirp, and how to purr, to be an omega. Something that felt completely odd after a lifetime of being a beta. He felt wrong, like he was faking it, pretending to be an omega.
He’s not assured when they tell him that his body would fully present, but it would take time after all the years of suppressing it, and that he would be a full omega. They don’t know how badly the drugs have damaged his fertility. There’s no way of knowing, apparently, until he has his first heat, but so far, all of his exams have come back normal, except his hormones.
No one visits, no one calls, and no one writes, and he isn’t expecting anyone to. He also wasn’t expecting Robby to be there waiting for him in the lobby, with his arms crossed as he waited, and a stern expression on his face as Frank was escorted by a pleasant beta nurse. Frank was forced to shower and clean himself up, and was still dressed in a clean, light, soft pink linen matching set, when he was brought before Robby.
“Don’t worry, it will happen.” Is all she says, handing Robby his suitcase, trying to be encouraging.
“Let’s go. We have a six-hour ride back.” Frank follows Robby to the car. He smells too strong, too real after three months of the carefully curated scent of the omega facility. Frank asks to crack a window, and Robby silently agrees, the pair not talking for the first hour and a half of the trip back.
Robby breaks the silence first. “I was the one who reported you.”
Frank blinks slowly, staring at the passing landscape dully. “I figured.”
“I had to, Langdon, for your safety.”
“Okay. I assume I’m not going back?”
“No,” Robby confirms. “Legally, they won’t let you practice any kind of medicine until you can prove a year stable after your first heat, and then you’re restricted to omega-approved specialities.”
“A year after my first heat, which I probably won’t get for a whole year,” Frank repeats. He’s too drained to care. “So two years and then what?”
Robby sighs. “There’s an en emergency omega medicine residency you can apply for when the time is right, if that’s what you decide you want to do. Your situation is different since you were twelve when your parents put you on suppressants and never fully-”
“I got it. Don’t need a reminder.” Frank cuts him off; he really doesn’t. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“You could try learning to be a fucking omega, Langdon.” Robby points out bluntly, a light command, and they don’t talk again for three more hours. They stop for something to eat, and Robby makes Frank wear his sweatshirt as they go in and order. They’re on the road once more when Robby breaks the silence again.
“You needed a registered family Alpha or Beta before they would release you,” He began, and Frank straightened, stomach cramping in anxious anticipation.
“Great, I assume Abbot is thrilled when he was nominated.”
“Cut the shit, Frank.”
Frank sighs but lets it drop, and Robby continues. “I wanted to say no- ouch- that it wouldn’t be fair to you after what happened, but Dennis was the one who insisted.”
“...great, like he doesn’t hate me enough,” he mumbles under his breath, once again looking dully out of the window at the passing scenery. “Don’t worry, as soon as we get back, I’ll go back to my apartment, and neither of you will have to deal with me unless I’m dying or something.”
Frank knows it sounds almost sarcastically flippant, but he means every word. “I’m not going to crash your happy little family, Robby. Just drop me off at my car, and I’ll see you around, I guess.”
He doesn’t notice Robby’s hands tightening on the steering wheel of the SUV, car seat installed within the back seat, evidence of the alpha’s family clear and present.
Robby’s little laugh is mirthless and biting, the bearded man looking over to where Frank was subconsciously trying to make himself smaller, balled up in the passenger seat, his face devoid of emotion. “Oh, that’s so not happening.”
Frank sighs, and his whole body moves with it. “Yeah, I thought not. I’ll stay out of your way, and see if I can surf on someone’s couch until I can find a place that is willing to risk renting to un-mated omegas.”
“Sure. Frank.” Robby agrees, and they fall into silence again. It’s dark when they pull up to the brown stone, and Frank is debating on just running for it. He knows he won’t get far, not without a phone or wallet, but he’s been here before, and he knows how to get to the PTMC. Yeah, he might not be allowed to work there anymore…his thoughts are interrupted by Robby’s heavy hand on his shoulder, warm and immovable.
“You think I’m pissed now? It’s going to be so much worse, kid, if I have to chase your ass down. Lets go.”
Dennis is waiting for them by the time they reach the front door, Robby refusing to let Frank carry his one sad little bag with all his essentials. He’s still wearing Robby’s sweatshirt, but Frank gives a little shiver under Dennis’ sharp gaze.
“Hey.” He softens only at Robby’s greeting, the pair sharing a kiss, and Frank makes sure to look anywhere but them.
“Go shower.” Dennis finally addresses Frank, and the familiar sensation of being second place settles over Frank, almost like an old friend. “I don’t want you meeting our pup smelling like an artificial clinic.”
“Right…” Frank doesn’t point out that he has no idea how he’s supposed to smell. Doesn’t have the energy. He turns towards the stairs, still remembering where the bathroom was from the rare times he had been here before.
“Use our shower.” Dennis doesn’t sound angry, more resigned than anything and somehow that makes Frank feel worse. “She’ll adapt quicker if you smell like us.”
Frank nods, no longer having any will to fight. “This way.” Robby gestures to Frank, who follows silently and numbly. The bedroom is warm and inviting and smells completely of Dennis and Robby, their scents mingling, with a hint of pup, and their bathroom is equally homey and just as subtly luxurious, but Frank doesn’t care enough to notice.
He’s tired.
There are clothes he doesn’t recognise waiting for him when he steps out of the bathroom, washed and scrubbed for the second time that day, this time not smelling like artificial flowers but bergamot and cedar from their bath products.
The pants and hoodie swim on him, despite the hoodie fitting around the arms and waist. Dennis had always been surprisingly more muscular than Frank, who was all lithe muscles with a runner's build.
Following Robby’s quiet command to meet them in the kitchen when he was done, Frank followed the smell of something warm and rich that made his stomach grumble.
He once again thought about running. He might be able to make it.
He knew he would never have a chance.
Dennis gives a little sniff of approval, and Robby steers him to a seat at the round table in the breakfast nook, pushing him down lightly so he’s sitting before putting a massive plate of spaghetti in front of him with two breadsticks.
“You’re skin and bones.” Frank doesn’t have to be an omega to hear the disapproval in his voice. “You don’t have to eat it all, just what you can.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Frank.” His name on the smaller omega’s lips is sharp and pointed, and his scent of disapproval made something in Frank want to whimper. “Eat what you can, and then we’ll show you to your room.”
He eats in silence and does his best not to feel like a bug under a microscope, Dennis and Robby falling into conversation, which flows steadily and unhurriedly around Frank, but does not include Frank.
He only manages half a breadstick and a few bites of spaghetti before he starts to feel sick, his body adjusting to the light, delicate meals of the clinic, something they encouraged greatly. Frank knew he would never be delicate and dainty.
Dennis, not Robby, is the one who notices when Frank stops eating, and he cuts off his mate before the bearded older man can say whatever sharp and biting comment is on the tip of his tongue.
“Thank you for eating what you can. Robby gave me an update about what you talked about in the car…”
A part of Frank is surprised Robby didn’t outright record it for the other omega, but gives a nod, not lifting his gaze from the table. He barely manages to shove down the small sensation of satisfaction at Robby’s annoyance at his disengagement seeping into the alpha’s scent.
“We’re going to let you go to bed, and we’ll talk more in the morning, but we do need to go over some boundaries and expectations tonight before we do.” Robby’s tired voice fills the silence.
“Yeah, I know. The hospital twice a week for a drug test, not like it matters because I don’t work there any more, outpatient therapies three times a week, and monthly check-ins with Caleb, and I have to have Robby co-sign for anything like an apartment, or you know…getting a job, or anything else.”
He doesn’t look up at the mated pair. “They went all over this this morning.”
“Great.” Robby nods, and Frank knows he doesn’t mean it. “Not exactly what we meant, but I’m glad they gave you some idea of what to expect.”
There’s something in Robby’s tone that makes Frank feel like a med student all over. “We meant here at the house.”
Frank suppresses a sigh but gives a silent nod, for Robby and Dennis to continue, already forcing himself to accept whatever terms they would lay out for him, if nothing else to get it over with so he could go to bed. Frank was too exhausted in too many ways to fight the realities of being an omega.
“We don’t actually plan to restrict you. We’re not goint to keep you locked up or expect you to cook and clean for us.” Dennis begins, meeting Frank’s gaze. “You’re free to come and go as you please; we just ask that you check in with us as you do, just a general courtesy, not because we’re tracking you.”
Frank wanted to sigh in relief at the reasonable request, but he knew more was coming. More was always coming.
“I will be holding onto your wallet,” Robby continued, the same teacher voice, the same expression, that told him while everything right now was personal, this was not. “The only thing you will be given back is your insurance card and driver's license. If you need to make a purchase of any kind, you can use one of our credit cards, or the credit card we use for joint household expenses. Your credit cards and bank accounts were flagged when I reported you as an omega and an omega in extreme distress. They are no longer active, and as your family alpha, I have been given financial custodianship until you are stable.”
Frank is going to be sick. “We have a lawyer working on paperwork to release your accounts, Frank, when you have your first heat. Trust me, I don’t want to be your alpha for longer than I have to be.”
“You say the sweetest shit, Robby.” Frank shoots back dryly, not caring when Robby levels him with a look that tells him things are getting back to personal. “And how exactly am I supposed to pay you guys back? I assume you’re not going to let me get a job.”
“You’re right.” Dennis agreed with a nod, unfazed by Frank’s attitude. “Our nanny had to quit, and we don’t want our pup in daycare yet. We will pay you what we would pay our nanny, putting it in a checking account that you will have full access to. You can use that for emergency funds or to pay back what you charge to the card. We won’t charge you rent, but we do expect you to pull your weight, with cooking, cleaning and shopping.”
It still sounded reasonable, too reasonable, and Frank wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Oh for fucks sake,” Robby groans, pushing himself up, giving Frank a look that tells him exactly how well he can read him, “just give it a chance, Langdon. It’s the only option you have right now, and it could be a lot fucking worse.”
Frank knows it could be, and that’s the problem.
“Your room is upstairs, to the left of the stairs at the end of the hall. It’s next to the nursery.”
Frank nods and slowly walks up the stairs to the fading sound of Dennis and Robby talking. He’s surprised to find the room full of his stuff, organised in neat moving boxes, his clothes already in the small dresser and closet. Everything smells of the mated pair, suffocating Frank with every breath. He finds the bathroom two doors down, past the baby’s room and finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste waiting for him, but doesn’t find any of his toiletries. He’s asleep by the time his head hits the pillow.
He’s awakened in the predawn hours by the sound of a baby crying, and he forces himself awake, remembering exactly where he was and what was happening. He pushes himself out of the bed and opens the door to the baby’s room, not sure what he was expecting, but a baby with Dennis's big blue eyes and curls with truly round and chubby cheeks was not what he was expecting.
“Uh, hi.”
Frank greets lamely, easing into the room, and the pup stops crying, giving a hiccup here and there as they watch Frank move towards them, confused by the lack of any real smell from Frank, and Frank waits for the kid to start screaming; instead, the baby reaches up for him with one pudgy hand, the other holding the bars of the crib for support.
Fuck, the pup was adorable.
He picks her up, and she sticks out her bottom lip with a little whimper, and Frank knows he lost whatever battle he was supposed to be winning in that moment. He’s changed enough diapers and done enough feedings over the years between the Pitt and his Pedes’ rotation and occasionally helping at family holidays and get-togethers before he went low contact with his family.
He’s in the middle of changing her diaper when Dennis appears in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the door jamb, studying Frank as he worked. Frank doesn’t have enough practice to figure out whatever Dennis is leaking into his scent of sun-drenched earth, spiced apples, and cedar, but there’s something in it that makes Frank straighten a little more.
“Huh.” Dennis finally greets him.
Frank picks her up, and the baby reaches for Dennis with a cry, the smaller omega not hesitating to take her from Frank.
“I heard her crying…she stopped when I picked her up.” Dennis raised a brow but didn’t say anything. “She was wet….”
“Thank you.” Dennis gave realising Frank was done. “Robby’s still asleep. You can go back to bed if you want, or you can go downstairs and make coffee or whatever. We’re both off today, so we can take care of Teddie while you take the day to unpack and whatnot.”
“Teddie?”
“Matilda.”
“Aaah…” Frank nods. “Um, good to meet you, Teddie,” he greets the baby. “Uh, yeah, I’ll just go…”
Dennis doesn’t try to stop him, and Frank heads back to his room, too restless to actually sleep and starts going through the boxes, stacked against the wall. He hears Robby’s voice and tries to figure out how long he can actually get away with staying in his room and out of their way. He plans to spend the whole day in there.
He jumps when there’s a sudden knock on his door, and Robby’s voice calling out. “Frank, Dennis made breakfast.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Frank.”
“I’m not hungry.” It was true, mostly, and Robby opened the door, dressed in pyjamas, glasses in place.
“You barely ate yesterday, Frank, and I know what the meals were like in the Omega Care Facility; you need more than 1,400 calories a day despite whatever bullshit they told you. Any adult does, especially an omega.” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck.
“You don’t have to eat all of it; just eat what you can… please.”
“Okay.”
Frank finds himself once again lightly pushed into the breakfast nook of the kitchen, Dennis’s scent flaring with something, the man giving a satisfied but still not happy hum, occupied with feeding Teddie, while Robby plated the food on three plates and put a mug of tea down in front of Frank.
“This first, then coffee, and if you bring home redbull, I’ll throw it out,” Robby commands.
Frank eats what he can, and offers to clean the kitchen, determined to give them one less thing for them to judgement and both of them wave him away to go unpack. He shoves his books where he can, and finishes putting his clothes away. He assumes the rest of his stuff is in some kind of storage, and he still can’t find his toiletries other than his face wash and moisturiser. His shampoo, conditioner and body wash are all missing, along with his cologne and his favourite sweatshirt, which he kept long after he had broken up with his last boyfriend. He’s dragged out for a second time for lunch, this time by Dennis, and the shorter man gives Frank a look that tells him Dennis knows exactly what he’s doing.
He doesn’t try to reason with him like Robby. “Lunch.” ‘
“I’m not-”
“You can walk, or I can carry you, Frank.”
Frank knows that tone, had worked alongside that tone for years, knows what it meant when Dennis used his name like that. He knew Dennis could and would actually carry him down for lunch. He tries to remember if Dennis had called anyone else’s name with that tone. Dennis follows him down to the kitchen, and Teddie stops her babbling from where she’s sitting in Robby’s lap, the man reading a medical journal with a half-eaten sandwich in front of him.
He looks up when Teddie goes silent, and Frank braces himself for the pup to start crying. Her already large eyes go even bigger, and her bottom lip juts out, and she gives a soft little grunt and reaches out for Frank. Robby is looking at Frank like he has two heads, Dennis studying him with that too familiar look of trying to figure out a case, and Teddie starts to actually whimper when Frank doesn’t move, trying to lean forward towards him.
Frank knows he should ask, but he quickly closes the space between them and is careful not to look at Robby as he takes Teddie from him.
“Hello again.” He smiles softly. “Is this going to become a thing with you? The whole lip and pout routine?”
She’s wearing the same look of focused confusion that Robby sometimes gets in the middle of working a case, and she quietly reaches out, her cubby hand landing on Frank’s face and her eyebrows furrow further.
“Sorry, don’t have much of a scent. They tell me I’ll develop one soon, whatever that means, but until then, sorry, kid, you’re stuck with me like this.” She studies him for a moment more before giving up with a huff and deciding to sag against Frank’s shoulder instead of reaching for Frank or Dennis.
“Good to know you’re not dramatic.” He whispers and looks up from the baby to find Dennis and Robby watching him openly. His defences slam back into place.
“Believe it or not, I do have experience with children, and I actually am pretty good with kids. That hasn’t changed from when I was a beta.”
They are kind enough to point out that Frank was never beta. He hands Teddie back to Robby, silently eats what he can, and doesn’t offer to help with the dishes, and they don’t make him come down for dinner. Robby knocks on his door; Frank doesn’t answer, and Robby calls out in an almost soft voice that there was food outside the door.
Dennis and Robby are home for another two days, taking the time off for family leave, to make sure Frank gets settled, for them all to adjust. The same bath products that were in Robby and Dennis’ bathroom appear in the upstairs shower, and Teddie still reaches for Frank like she will burst into tears if he doesn’t hold her right that minute.
They pick up his car from Jack’s driveway, the beta offering to keep it while Frank was in recovery, and Frank is shocked when the man gives him a tight hug.
“I would have said yes if I was asked,” he assures, and Jack’s eyes harden in challenge at whatever was painfully sharp and slightly sour in Robby’s scent. It made Frank’s nose burn, whatever it was, and Jack looked less than impressed with the alpha and his oldest friend.
The ride back is exhilarating, giving Frank a brief moment of normalcy. The extra car seat gets installed, and the only things in his wallet are Frank’s driver's licenses, a copy of his insurance card, a copy of Teddie’s insurance card, and a heavy black credit card. Copies of completed medical consent forms are kept in the house and Frank’s glove box, and he takes Robby and Dennis' reluctance to go back to work as a personal challenge.
He throws everything he has into his new role, taking care of Teddie from the moment both men leave for the Pitt until they come home. They utilised a nanny service twice a week, for half a day, so Frank could go to his occupational therapy and do his drug screening without worrying about Teddie during it, and Robby and Dennis made it very clear it had to be the same nanny every time. He cooked and folded laundry, running errands and grocery shopping, with the same focus and energy he would have given the Pitt.
The changes start three months after he moves in with Robby and Dennis, constantly spending time taking care of a pup, no longer on anything stronger than ibuprofen, no longer able to stop the natural changes of his body that should have happened years ago.
It takes a while for him to notice, takes a while for any of them to notice. He still tries to stay out of Dennis and Robby’s way as much as possible when they were around, when they were warm, and he wasn’t on the clock, but he stops running from them. He doesn’t watch tv in the living room, doesn’t let himself occupy the downstairs spaces, always going back to his room. He misses the little frowns that are now starting to come with him avoiding them or giving them space.
Teddie starts to cling to him more, burying his face into his shoulder and chest like she’s searching for a particular spot, giving little unhappy grunts as she did, the baby quickly coming up on her first birthday.
He’s in the middle of folding laundry, the one time he does occupy the living room, watching tv as he worked, the baby monitor next to him, with Teddie completely asleep during her nap when Dennis looked up from his laptop, with a curious expression.
Dennis was home for the day, on a two-week night shift rotation. “Did you use a different detergent?”
“No, why?”
His brows pinched together, and he scented the room once more. “Never mind,” the other omega dismissed, and Frank lets it go. Robby comes home, and Dennis goes to work and Robby stops Frank before he can disappear completely, Teddie asleep in her crib and there’s no mistaking the question in Robby’s deep brown eyes.
“Langdon.”
“‘Sup?”
“Did you go to therapy today?” Frank shakes his head, but Robby doesn’t let up. “Omega and me class? Gone out at all?”
Frank looks at him like he’s crazy. “No…why?”
“Nothing, just thought I smelled something.”
“I changed deodorant, but I didn’t think it was that strong.”
“That’s probably it. Oh, monitor?”
“In the kitchen. Night.”
Teddie finds what she’s looking for two nights later, Frank no longer needing the monitor, hearing Teddie the moment she wakes up, like some kind of bizarre spidey sense. It’s three am, and her gums are swollen, and she’s crying, and Frank is doing his best to soothe her, the pup rejecting the cold teether, when she stops crying, going completely silent, tensing for a moment before completely sagging in his arms, letting out a long watery exhale.
Her nose is pressed right against his mating gland, and she takes another watery inhale and relaxes further into Frank with a pathetic little grumble. He looks up to Robby standing in the middle of the doorway, eyes wide, and the man mimics his pup, inhaling deeply, eyes going dark and mouth falling open.
The air smells of spiced plums, woodsmoke, and toasted almonds. Safe and impossibly warm. It smells like omega.
Like Frank, not Dennis.
Frank’s eyes widen when he realises what's happening; that little tickle in his nose is him.
His scent had come in.