Work Text:
Moira could hear the growls in the darkness, and as she swept her flashlight over the scene she caught glimpses of the Alphas crouched along the wall. So far all they had encountered were securely chained—she didn’t think it would take long to notice one who wasn’t.
“Okay, set up some lights,” she ordered her team. “We need to document their condition, then we start tranq’ing and move them out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Moira turned to her radio. “Agent MacTaggert checking in. Northwest quadrant is secure. I count nine Alphas, all feral—”
“Hello?” said a voice from a dark corner, and Moira broke off her report. “Hello? Is someone there?” The person sounded distressed but way too articulate to be one of the tortured Alphas they’d encountered in this cesspool.
“Who are you?” Moira asked, shining her flashlight around.
“To your left,” the voice answered, and Moira swung the light to a shadowy hollow. A pale figure lay on a dirty mattress, raising a hand to block the light from his eyes, and she quickly lowered it, sweeping the area. An Alpha was chained nearby, who snarled and lunged at her. “My name is Charles,” the figure said. “Are you here to help us?”
“Yes, I’m Special Agent MacTaggert,” Moira told him, approaching with caution. “Are you an Alpha?” She really didn’t think so.
“No, I’m an Omega,” the young man confirmed. “Erik, Erik, it’s alright,” he assured the Alpha near him, who growled vigorously as Moira came closer. They were holding hands, she noted with interest; the Omega kept his other arm cradled against his chest.
“Are you hurt, Charles?” Moira checked, kneeling down next to the mattress and setting her flashlight to cast a wider glow.
“I think my arm is broken,” he replied shakily. He was thin, with tattered clothes, and his face was covered in dirt or bruises. Erik, the Alpha, snapped and howled at Moira but Charles rubbed his leg soothingly. “Where are you from?”
“FBI,” Moira told him crisply. “Can I get a medic over here? I didn’t realize there were Omegas being held here as well,” she added worriedly.
“I think I’m the only one left,” Charles replied darkly. “It’s okay, Erik, they’re here to help us,” he told the Alpha in a calming tone. Erik clutched at Charles’s good arm fiercely. “You are here to help us, aren’t you, Agent MacTaggert?” Charles pressed. “To rescue all of the Alphas?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Moira confirmed. “We busted Shaw’s underground fight ring—” Well, Charles didn’t need to hear the details now. “It’s okay, we’re going to take you to a hospital, and then contact your family.”
Charles closed his eyes briefly, as if he could hardly believe this was happening finally. It would be easy to lose hope in a place like this, Moira decided. The medic approached, which had Erik snarling again, and Charles pulled himself into a sitting position before anyone could touch him. “You’re going to take Erik, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone becoming slightly desperate. “Please, you can’t leave him here—”
“We’re taking all of the Alphas to the hospital,” Moira assured him, tone even. Charles might not be mindwiped like the Alphas, but obviously he had endured a lot of horror here and wasn’t entirely in his right mind.
“Unlock him first,” Charles demanded, scooting away from the medic and closer to Erik. “You have the key? Let him go first, then we’ll go with you—”
Moira did not look back over her shoulder; she didn’t think they could see what was happening to the other Alphas. “Charles, you’re hurt and we need to get you taken care of,” she told him urgently. “You’ll see Erik again at the hospital, if you want to—” She couldn’t imagine what a lone Omega among all these Alphas had been through.
“No!” Charles denied sharply, as the medic reached for him again. He scrambled fully into Erik’s arms, the Alpha curving protectively around him. Erik was also dirty and bruised, but like the other Alphas here who were kept for fighting, he was fit and muscular. His eyes blazed with the same feverish intensity as Charles’s, reduced to base instincts with no understanding of the civilized world; but he cradled the Omega carefully, avoiding his damaged arm. “Unlock Erik first. Please, you have to help him—”
They could always tranq the Omega, too, Moira considered, but she didn’t want it to come to that. “We will help him,” she promised Charles. “But—look, if I unlock him now, he’s going to rip me to pieces.” Erik pulled his lips back in a silent snarl that seemed to confirm this.
“No, he won’t,” Charles refuted. He pushed himself up more so he could nuzzle against Erik’s jaw and reached up to rub his face with his free hand, and Erik responded by nudging him back, like a dog eager to show affection. “I promise, Erik won’t hurt anyone, if you let him come with me. Please, Agent MacTaggert—”
“You can call me Moira,” she sighed. This was against her better judgment, but she didn’t have time to waste arguing. “Okay, what number is he—” She would have to stand and look at the sign above his spot.
“Fifty-seven,” Charles answered promptly, and Moira looked through the key ring she carried.
“Okay, I’m going to unlock you,” Moira told Erik, as he turned sharply to follow her movements. “Stay calm and don’t make me regret this.”
“Shh, shh,” Charles soothed the Alpha. “Easy, it’s okay, we’re going to be alright now.”
“Charles, mine. Mine, Charles,” said Erik clearly, which startled Moira enough that she almost dropped the keys. She hadn’t noticed any of the other Alphas being at all articulate at this point.
Charles kept Erik’s focus on him as Moira unlocked the metal collar around the Alpha’s neck. Erik snarled as she removed it, but she didn’t take it personally; the metal had rubbed his skin raw where it constricted him. As soon as he was free, Erik surged to his feet, pulling Charles up with him, and took in the view from this new vantage point.
Moira imagined him making a break for it and the trouble that was going to cause for all of them. Charles was looking very faint now, held aloft only by Erik. “Erik,” Moira told him steadily, “we need to help your Omega. We need to help Charles.” Erik glanced down at Charles as if he had some understanding of what she was saying. He nudged Charles’s head with his hand, watching it bob with a frown. “Charles is hurt, we need to take care of him,” Moira continued, indicating the gurney that had rolled up. “Charles said you would behave if we helped him. That’s all we want to do.” Steadily, she crept closer to Erik, empty arms outstretched. “Can we have Charles, so we can help him?”
“’S okay, Erik,” Charles mumbled. “We’re okay now.”
This endorsement put it over the top for Erik and he carefully turned Charles so he could pick him up. He wouldn’t be running or fighting in that stance, so Moira backed away towards the gurney, showing him where to put Charles. Erik laid the Omega down and the medics rushed in, securing Charles’s arm and head before starting to wheel him away.
Erik did not move, however. “Erik, you can follow Charles,” Moira prompted, pointing.
Erik looked after them but stayed put. Instead he pointed to the keys Moira held, then around the room to the other chained Alphas.
“Yes, we’re going to unlock them,” Moira assured him, somewhat impressed at his ability to think of anyone else—she supposed he’d had practice with Charles. “But you should follow Charles now. We’ll take care of it.” She did not know how he would react once they started tranq’ing the other Alphas before unchaining them—they didn’t have Omegas to soothe them and her team wasn’t taking the chance. “Go with Charles, stay with him,” she urged once more, and Erik gave in and jogged after his Omega.
**
Moira next saw them two days later, at the secure medical facility where all the victims had been taken. She had to swipe her badge to get through the locked door to their room, but once inside she was not surprised to find that neither was restrained in any way. Well, Charles wasn’t considered dangerous; and Erik wasn’t going anywhere without Charles, even to his own bed. Instead they were curled up together, heart monitor wires and IV tubes carefully untangled, with Charles attempting to read a magazine that Erik held half of. This seemed to work alright until Charles wanted to turn the page, which was an activity Erik had not yet grasped.
“No, put it down, we have a visitor,” Charles instructed, wrestling with Erik’s grip on the magazine. At least the Alpha had stopped snarling at everyone who came into the room, finally accepting that they were all here to help. He huffed a little at Moira, indicating that he remembered her.
“Hi,” Moira greeted them, approaching the bed. “How are you feeling?” They’d both had a good cleaning and a shave, revealing rather handsome men with enviable bone structure; unfortunately, it seemed like a lot of the dirt had actually been bruises, which were looking worse as they healed.
“Much better, thank you,” Charles reported. He seemed tired, which she supposed wasn’t surprising. Erik leaned down to snaffle at his neck enthusiastically. “Erik is so happy to be somewhere safe,” Charles translated, leaning back into him. Moira sat down gingerly on the edge of the mattress; Erik ignored her in favor of cuddling Charles. “It’s very nice here, he’s already been to the gym,” Charles went on.
“Hard to imagine he goes anywhere without you,” Moira commented dryly.
“I was talking to the psychiatrist,” Charles shrugged. The psychiatrist found it rather novel to have a patient here who could actually talk back. “Erik didn’t break my arm, by the way,” Charles added suddenly. Erik seemed to take no notice of the comment, though Moira saw he was very careful of the bandaged limb. “I guess some people thought that. But Erik wouldn’t hurt me. It was the guards, who hurt me to make Erik do what they wanted—” Charles stopped talking, a hitch in his voice, and Erik whined in his ear, sensing his stress.
“Yes, I’ve been reading the reports,” Moira assured him. “We have several of the guards in custody.” Other Omegas tossed to the Alphas as toys or prizes had not survived; but Erik apparently treated his differently, which their captors had used to their advantage. “The reports also say you’re not eating,” she added sternly.
Charles’s eyes flickered over to the nutrient solution dripping into the IV. “I don’t need to eat,” he claimed wearily.
“Erik’s eating,” Moira pointed out.
“Erik needs extra protein, to maintain muscle mass,” Charles informed her. Erik gave a little growl, as if chastising Charles for his reluctance, and Charles waved it off. “I told you, the little bag has food in it.” All of the captives had been malnourished, vitamin deficient even if the Alphas had been given plenty of meat.
Moira decided to table this discussion. It had only been a couple of days, Charles probably still couldn’t believe he was out of that horrible place. In some ways, the Alphas had it easier, being unaware of the bigger picture. “We contacted your sister,” she told Charles, and he perked up considerably.
“Raven? Is she coming?” he asked, sitting up more.
“Yes, she’s here now,” Moira revealed. “She’s being given an explanation of—”
Charles was already trying to get up, which extra people on the bed impeded. “I want to see her,” he insisted. “Maybe I should shower first—Excuse me, Erik—Raven won’t sit still for any lecture—”
Moira vacated the bed as Charles got his feet on the floor, pausing to gather his strength before continuing. “You should stay right here, we’ll bring her to you—” she advised.
Erik was more forceful, rolling neatly off his side of the bed and coming around to block Charles from further movement, towing his IV stand along. Erik had quickly learned to be careful of this, and to gently remove Charles’s sling before helping him into the sweatshirt with the sleeves modified for his cast and IV. But he wouldn’t let Charles get up.
“Honestly, Erik—”
“I think he has the right idea,” Moira supported. “You should just rest here, we’ll bring her up.” Erik yipped as if agreeing and Charles gave them both dark looks.
“Fine,” he grumbled, flopping back on the bed, and Erik straddled him, leaning down to kiss him rather passionately by way of reward. Moira averted her eyes. “Stop,” Charles told him, but fondly, his hand sliding through Erik’s hair. “My sister’s coming, we have to be presentable.”
Moira phone buzzed. “She’s on her way up,” she reported, and Charles became a flurry of nervous energy, unsure whether to sit or stand or go wash his face and comb his hair at least, which Erik did not understand at all. Charles had been missing for over five months, just snatched off the street one night; Moira was certain his sister would be happy to see him no matter what. Unfortunately, they had not been successfully in identifying any family for Erik as yet; his fingerprints hadn’t matched anything and they didn’t even know his real name.
Charles settled for reclining in bed, turned on his side towards the door, with Erik behind him. Mostly this seemed to be Erik’s preference, and when nothing happened immediately, he went back to nuzzling Charles’s neck. The first thing Charles had asked when they got to the hospital was if he was pregnant; when they determined he wasn’t, he asked for a contraceptive shot. So he was covered in case Erik felt the need to claim him in this new place, although Charles insisted Erik wouldn’t if he told him no.
There was a knock on the door and Charles tensed, which made Erik tense, and Charles stroked the Alpha’s hand soothingly, hoping to keep him calm. Of course, Raven wasn’t exactly calm herself—Moira opened the door and let her in, and Charles forgot about everything else. “Raven!” He forced himself up without even realizing it, the better to embrace his sister when she came flying over.
“Charles! I’ve been so worried—”
Erik snarled suddenly, rising up on his knees so he could bend over Charles protectively and shield him from the stranger who was running at him. Who was also an Alpha, which of course Charles knew, but he hadn’t put it together with Erik until this moment.
Raven pulled up short, with Moira intervening in case she needed to remove the civilian. Charles twisted around to put his good hand on Erik’s shoulder, trying to hold him back. “Erik, Erik, it’s okay, it’s okay—”
“Who the h—l are you?” Raven demanded intemperately. “Get away from my brother—"
“Raven, you’re not helping,” Charles pointed out, as he tried to get Erik behind his shoulder so he had more leverage. “Erik, it’s fine, it’s alright, just relax—”
Erik was the opposite of relaxed, however, seeing only another Alpha threatening his Omega. “Didn’t they tell you about this?” Moira asked, trying to get the young woman to back up.
“Bunch of weird stuff about crazy-a-s Alphas fighting,” Raven shot back. “Get that thing off him—”
“Erik’s not a thing—” Charles protested hotly, which only made Erik snap and growl harder, sensing his Omega’s agitation. In a moment he would leap over Charles completely and go for Raven’s throat.
“Okay, okay,” Moira interrupted. “Get down on the ground,” she told Raven.
“What?!”
“You have to show submission,” Moira told her sharply. This was why people should listen to those briefings. “Get down on the ground.” Grumbling, Raven finally did so. Erik watched her suspiciously for a moment, then began to pull back slightly, much to Charles’s relief. “Now crawl over to the bed, keeping low,” Moira instructed.
“Seriously?” Raven complained.
Charles was rubbing Erik’s chest and arms, trying to calm him. “Raven, Erik is the person who has been protecting me for the last five months, despite operating solely on instinct,” he pointed out to her. “He thinks you’re another person trying to hurt me, so you’d best do whatever it takes to convince him you aren’t!”
Raven sighed, but she loved her brother and saw his point, so she crawled across the floor to the bed. Erik hunched down to keep an eye on her. “Charles, can you get your hand down to Raven?” Moira asked. “Raven, you need to lick his hand, then let Erik smell it.”
“Are you kidding me—”
A low growl began in the back of Erik’s throat. “Raven, just do it!” Charles snapped. Raven licked his hand, grimacing as she did so, and Charles brought it up to Erik, who snuffled at it with interest.
“What he’s smelling are genetic factors you have in common as siblings,” Moira explained, finding the science rather fascinating. “Antibodies, volatile chemicals, similar secretions—”
“S—t,” interrupted Charles. “Raven’s adopted.”
Well. “S—t,” Moira echoed, grabbing the young woman’s shoulder, preparatory to hauling her out of there.
However, Erik no longer seemed concerned, amazingly, and backed off the bed completely, straightening the blankets and fluffing the pillows around Charles. The others all glanced at each other expectantly.
“Is it okay?” Charles asked Moira, who wasn’t sure.
“Get up slowly,” she advised Raven.
Erik strolled around the side of the bed, gripping his IV stand, and stopped to sniff at Raven. “Charles, mine. Mine, Charles,” he warned. Then he went off to the bathroom.
No one relaxed until he was out of sight. “Good G-d,” Raven remarked.
The shower started up. “That’s amazing,” Charles told them. “Usually he won’t let me out of his sight, we shower together—” He stopped, thinking maybe that was TMI for his sister. He took her hand with a smile. “He must really trust you to look after me,” he told her.
“Well, of course I will,” Raven replied matter-of-factly. “He seems alright. Pretty good-looking, when he’s not snarling at people.” Charles blushed suddenly, which was rather cute.
“I’ll let you guys catch up,” Moira decided, finding it safe to leave.
**
Erik was off his nutrient IV in just a few days, as he tucked into his meals with gusto. Charles still needed his, though, as he only picked at his food. The psychiatrist suggested it was a matter of control—Charles’s life had not been his own for months, and even inside this facility, his movements and activities were constrained; refusing to eat was the only control he had. Raven had been instructed to bring him some clothes and books from home, so he could have more choice in what to wear and read. Charles was not sure how this was supposed to help; from his point of view, he wasn’t making a conscious choice to not have an appetite. But it would be nice to wear something other than grey sweatsuits.
“You don’t have to do that,” Charles reminded Erik. The Alpha was assiduous about setting aside part of his every meal for Charles, as he had when they were captives. “I have my own food. Which I’m not going to eat anyway. Actually you can eat this, too.” He pushed his tray of food away, closer to Erik.
The Alpha gave him an unimpressed look. Anyone who would take food meant for their Omega was not a good person. Of course, said Omega was also not very smart, to keep refusing food. Erik pinched off another messy bite of his hamburger and placed it on Charles’s plate, as if finally this morsel might tempt him. It did not.
“I’m just not hungry,” Charles tried telling those implacable eyes. “The bag has food in it—” Erik had to understand that on some level, because his Omega hadn’t starved to death yet, despite not eating real food for days, but obviously this was not good enough for him. He leaned down and nudged his bowl of jello closer to Charles with his nose, giving him puppy dog eyes.
If a mindwiped Alpha was more sensible than you, it was time to rethink your life.
With a very put-upon sigh Charles picked up the jello—green, of course—and took a small bite. It sat in his stomach like a lead weight but Erik gave him a happy yip. Eating jello wasn’t like eating real food anyway, Charles told himself. So he could eat it, and make Erik happy.
**
“I didn’t know what to bring,” Raven admitted, hauling the suitcase up onto the bed and opening it. To Charles it was like a treasure chest, however—clothes and books he recognized from home, that he’d thought he would never see again, and he just stared at them with teary eyes.
“Thank you, Raven,” he said, giving his perplexed sister a hug.
Then Erik jumped in, kneeling on the bed and pawing through the clothes. He pulled them up and turned them all around, as Raven and Charles tried to stop him with varying degrees of investment. To Erik, the clothes smelled like his Omega, but also not, which was confusing. And what were these little bundles of paper? He shook one, trying to figure out if it did anything.
“That’s a book, Erik—Erik!” The Alpha paused and looked up when his Omega took that tone. Charles picked up the book Erik had carelessly chucked aside. “This is a book, it’s very important,” Charles tried to explain. “These—you remember the magazine I had?” Raven helpfully handed him one from the table. “Books are similar—” He was never sure how much Erik really understood, but he showed Erik how there was text in the magazine and text in the book. “No, there’s no pictures in the book,” Charles confirmed. Erik liked the pictures.
“I could bring him some picture books,” Raven offered, semi-seriously.
Charles started to give her a look, then decided that might be a good idea. “Like a picture dictionary, or some book with lots of vocabulary,” he suggested eagerly, and Raven sighed and made a note on her list. She didn’t really mind doing these things to help Charles, but shopping in the kids’ section—or reading to Erik!—was not something that appealed to her.
“Yes, those are my clothes,” Charles confirmed to Erik, who was sniffing between them and Charles. “Raven brought them from home. Oh, I love these jeans!” He took the pair from Erik and held them up to his waist. “I’ll put them on. Turn around,” he prompted Raven, making a little twirling motion with his finger. Erik mimicked it, yipping an order, which Charles found hilarious, partly because he was just a little giddy at the thought of wearing his old clothes again. Maybe the psychiatrist had been on the right track after all.
Charles stepped out of the grey sweatpants and into the jeans. It didn’t take long before he realized something was amiss, however. “Oh.”
Raven turned around at his disappointed tone. “Oh, they’re too big,” she realized.
The pants were practically hanging off him, when before they had been quite comfortable, and Erik tugged on them curiously, clearly not seeing the point of pants you had to constantly hold up.
“Well, you’ll fill them out again in no time,” Raven insisted in an upbeat tone. “Once we get home and Mrs. Malloy starts feeding you—”
Erik pulled Charles close carefully and nuzzled at him, sensing his upset. Charles chose to interpret that as, “You’re beautiful even if you’re too skinny right now.”
“Yes, I suppose it will be alright,” Charles agreed reluctantly. He hadn’t realized just how much weight he had lost until now, and he hadn’t been a large guy to begin with. He was aware that going home was dependent on him eating solid food consistently, and seeing his things in this clinical environment, Charles was suddenly struck with a powerful desire to go home, back to his room and the things he knew.
Well then. Time to make that happen.
“I think Erik will really like our house, don’t you?” Charles said to Raven, as Erik continued to cuddle him. Erik liked to be sure his Omega was feeling better before he let him go. “All the room, and the woods and the pond—”
“Yeah, we’ll just have to make sure Tarzan here doesn’t run off,” Raven teased, ruffling Erik’s hair, and he huffed at her. Charles was so pleased Raven had taken to Erik, and vice versa, after their initial misunderstanding; he had worried it would be difficult to convince her that Erik needed to stay with Charles, for both their sakes—as it was difficult to convince others, like the psychiatrist. Perhaps Raven being an Alpha helped—she and Erik seemed to understand that they were part of the same pack now.
“Anyway,” Raven continued, reaching into the suitcase, “I brought a belt, so you can just use that for the time being—” No sooner had she pulled out the thin coil of leather, however, than Erik began to snap and snarl, and push himself between her and Charles. “What the h—l—”
Charles immediately saw the problem. “No, Erik, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he tried to soothe. “Raven won’t hurt me—Put the belt on,” he instructed his sister urgently. Fortunately, Raven had gotten better about doing as she was told when Erik got agitated and thus didn’t argue. “He thinks it’s a weapon, the guards used to beat us sometimes—There, there, it’s okay,” Charles told Erik, stroking his chest. He could still feel the tension in his muscles, the pounding of his heart, and Charles flung his good arm around him, embracing him. “Thank you, Erik! You’re such a good Alpha!” he felt moved to say. Erik had brought a lot of pain on himself by protecting Charles, and Charles wouldn’t forget it.
Erik patted Charles’s arm, calming but still staring at the belt, which now adorned Raven’s waist. “See how stylish it is?” she claimed, turning. Erik made the twirling motion again, relaxed enough to play along. “Only the cool people get to wear belts. Not the people in old man sweatpants.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “Fine, you just volunteered to buy some clothes for Erik,” he announced to Raven, who huffed at yet another dull chore. “Okay, take off the belt slowly. Let him hold it.”
Erik took the belt gingerly, examining the ends that stung and sniffing it. “You know, I can’t believe you thought I would hurt Charles!” Raven chided Erik, now that it seemed safe.
“Raven—” Charles tried to intervene, especially when she poked Erik in the chest. He just stared down at her quizzically, however.
“I mean, what kind of a person do you think I am?” she went on hotly. “Charles is my brother—”
Erik grabbed her suddenly, but in a hug. “Charles, mine,” he reminded her. “Mine, Charles.” Then he snuffled at her neck a little and let her go.
Charles smiled at his now-flustered sister. “Erik’s sorry, he didn’t really think you were going to hurt me,” Charles translated for her. “He just got upset when he saw the belt.” He knew Raven didn’t like to think about what they’d been through. “Erik? Can I see that? I’ll show you what it’s for.” Erik stopped chewing on the leather and handed the belt, very carefully, to Charles. “Oh, I’ll need your help,” he added to Raven, since he only had one hand available.
“Right, see, this is what you do with a belt, big guy,” Raven narrated to Erik, showing him how it threaded through the loops on Charles’s jeans. Erik quite liked the little loops, especially how he could use them to pull Charles closer.
“They are not handles for you,” Charles told him with fond exasperation. “They have a purpose—” Erik hooked his finger through another loop and tugged Charles sideways.
Raven smacked his hand. “Stop, you’re messing this up,” she told him, and Erik huffed at her but backed off, merely watching as she finished threading the belt. He was very interested in whatever was happening to his Omega. “Then, you fasten it like this,” Raven explained, poking the metal bit through one of the holes in the belt. It was not the innermost hole, but certainly much smaller than what Charles normally wore. “See? Now his pants don’t fall down.”
Erik yanked on Charles’s jeans to see for himself, then wanted to practice unbuckling and rebuckling the belt. Charles’s face flushed hot with embarrassment, as the position—with Erik kneeling at his feet—was a bit compromising. “Erik, maybe not now—” he tried, and Erik gazed up at him with innocent, earnest blue eyes—he was just trying to help his Omega! “Oh, alright,” Charles allowed—and then spotted the smirk on Erik’s face as he looked back down. “I saw that!” Charles accused, and Erik laughed and backed off. Charles petted his hair fondly—little moments like that, when Erik showed that he understood something on multiple levels, reinforced to Charles that he wasn’t just talking to himself here, as so many people had tried to convince him.
“Erik, do you want to go to the gym for a while?” Charles offered. “Since Raven’s here. We’re going to look at the books, maybe watch a little telly.” Erik did not like the television, because he didn’t understand it.
Erik popped up and paced around the small room for a moment, making sure it was secure. Then he yipped at Raven.
“Yes, I will look after Charles,” she promised, managing to sound somewhat serious (earlier attempts at sarcasm had not gone over well with Erik).
Erik accepted this and gave Charles a goodbye snaffle. He would like it better if Charles came with him to the gym, but there were other people there—doctors, staff, occasionally other Alphas who had demonstrated calm--and he wouldn’t risk that. And working out was something he understood he needed to do to keep healthy.
“Okay, have a good time,” Charles told him, hugging him back. His hand lingered on Erik’s arm and Erik smiled at him. “Go on, go,” Charles encouraged him. He felt anxious about Erik leaving sometimes but had to force himself to get over that; Erik would stay with him if he seemed unhappy, but that wouldn’t be good for Erik. Rolling her eyes, Raven flipped the TV on, which finally sent Erik away.
**
Measuring Erik for his new clothes was an adventure in itself. Of course he couldn’t go out to shop for himself, and Raven had little experience looking for men’s clothes. “Just something simple,” Charles hedged, beginning to regret asking her. “Jeans, a t-shirt, shoes—”
“Relax,” Raven dismissed, brandishing her tape measure. “I googled this, I know what to do. And,” she added with somewhat forced casualness, “I might ask Hank to help me shop.”
This caused Charles to look up sharply, as she had suspected it would. Erik froze alertly, ever aware of his Omega’s moods. “Hank?” he repeated. Hank was his good friend, a fellow Omega; but for some reason, the thought of him being involved, knowing what happened to Charles—it made Charles’s chest constrict with panic.
Erik reacted swiftly—by sitting down on the floor, and he tugged on Raven until she sat as well, grumbling. Then he whined softly, trying to coax Charles closer—when he smelled that way, being crowded by Erik just made him more upset.
“Charles, I know—” Raven began, but Erik shushed her, and continued whining.
“Stop, stop, it’s okay,” Charles told Erik, hugging him against his stomach. Erik looked up at him with concern in his eyes and Charles sat down in his lap, where Erik could cuddle him. It felt nice, when he closed his eyes, and if Raven would just keep her mouth shut for a little while longer.
“Charles?” Raven checked when she couldn’t stand it any longer, and he opened his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Right, Hank,” Charles repeated. He was gripping Erik’s arm a bit hard, but the Alpha didn’t seem to mind, and continued to snuffle his neck and rock him slightly. “You told Hank I was… back?”
“I told everyone you were back, Charles!” Raven insisted. She reached over to take his hand, which Erik allowed. “You have lots of friends, lots of people who’ve been really worried about you.”
“It’s not on Facebook, is it?” Charles asked with a grimace, and Raven rolled her eyes.
“No, I did not turn you into a status update, Charles!” she told him. “But I’ve been keeping a few people in particular updated.” She shifted uncomfortably, which Charles raised his eyebrows at. “Just—Hank and I, since you’ve been gone—I mean, we were both really upset—”
Charles’s eyes grew wider and wider as she spoke, and finally he gave a little laugh. “You and Hank? Really?” His sister was beautiful and vivacious, he could see why people would fall for her. But Hank was—well, kind and smart, but a bit geeky. A lot geeky.
“Hank is really sweet,” Raven protested, giving her brother a light punch on the shoulder. “And he’s been really worried about you. And they won’t let anyone but family visit here, but I thought he could help me shop for Erik, and that would make him feel better.”
Charles laughed again—it felt good to laugh, to have some good news and see people acting like normal human beings, who fell in love. “You hear that, Erik?” Charles asked, rubbing his Alpha’s arm. “Raven’s got an Omega of her own now!”
Raven blushed, which was what Charles was going for. “I mean, we’re not planning a wedding or anything—” she protested.
Erik yipped. “I think Erik already knew,” Charles guessed, which was partly just to tease his sister, but might have been true. “I think he smelled an Omega on you already, that’s probably how he knew you were safe.” Erik yipped again as if agreeing.
“G-d,” Raven sighed, rolling her eyes. “Can we get on with the measuring now? It’s going to be hard enough getting him to stand still.”
“Yes, alright,” Charles agreed magnanimously, as she helped him up. “I’m sure Hank will pick out something suitable.” Raven huffed, but she was glad Charles had taken it so well—she had been worried that he’d be angry anyone else knew about what had happened to him, being private about certain things as he was.
Erik hopped up when the others did, glad his Omega was happy again. But now the sister was poking at him and shaking a yellow ribbon at him.
“Hold still, stop following me—”
“Raven, you have to explain to him,” Charles reminded her, sitting down on the bed. He was feeling a bit drowsy now—Raven’s visits, while appreciated, did tend to wear him out. “Just tell him what you’re doing, and let him see the… thing.” He yawned and laid down on his side, to keep an eye on them.
Erik immediately left the spot he was supposed to stand in to attend to Charles, straightening his IV line, taking off his shoes, pulling a blanket over him. Charles’s protests that he was okay were just so much noise.
“Okay, could you come back over here, please?” Raven insisted impatiently.
“Go on, it’s alright,” Charles encouraged, so Erik turned his attention to Raven, trying to figure out what she wanted him to do, despite her quickly gesturing hands and even faster words.
“See, this measures things,” Raven told Erik, showing him the marks on the tape. “Each number is another inch.”
“Measure how tall he is, and then let him measure your height,” Charles suggested. “Maybe he’ll understand better."
"Okay, stand up straight. Up. Straight.” Raven was not shy about handling Erik to put him in the right position. “Stay there. Stay. Hold this. Okay, this number is your height,” she pointed out. “You are seventy-two inches tall. Which is six feet. Now, you measure me.” With some coaxing from both Charles and Raven, Erik stretched the tape from Raven’s feet to the top of her head. “See? I am sixty-nine inches tall, so you are three inches taller than me.” Erik blinked at her, then the tape measure, then started chewing on the plastic curiously. Raven rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Does he even know his numbers?” she demanded of Charles despairingly.
Charles was not really sure. “Well, just get the measurements you need,” he suggested with resignation. “He probably understands you aren’t doing anything bad now.”
“As if I would,” Raven huffed, with a complete lack of self-awareness that Charles found endearing. “Give me that back. Gross, it’s all drooly now,” she complained, wiping the tape measure off with a tissue.
With determination Raven began to collect the measurements, like the width of Erik’s shoulders and the circumference of his waist. The inseam measurement made him raise his eyebrows quizzically. “Don’t get any ideas,” Raven grumbled, while Charles laughed. Luckily Erik’s shoe size had already been determined, for his sneakers.
Leaving Erik to play with the tape measure while Raven inputted the last measurements into her phone, Charles saw the moment when the Alpha suddenly got it—Erik was very bright and picked up things quickly—and then he wanted to measure everything, starting with Charles. “Oh, could we not right now—” Charles tried to demur, but Erik held up Charles’s arm anyway and measured the length, then showed Charles the number and how it was smaller than Erik’s number. “Yes, my arm is shorter than yours,” Charles agreed, yawning. He smiled at Erik and rubbed his head, glad he had learned something new, but not up to helping him with it right now.
Abruptly Erik dropped the tape measure and snuffled Charles’s neck, arms and legs on either side of him to keep him fully shielded. If his Omega ate more, he wouldn’t be so tired; he was being rather foolish, and that was not acceptable. Erik put his teeth on Charles’s ear—not biting, just showing that he could—and gave a chastising growl.
“I know, darling,” Charles sighed. “I’m going to work on it. Next meal, I promise I’ll eat better.”
“Is this foreplay?” Raven wanted to know, grimacing. “If so I am outta here—”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Charles assured her, as Erik cuddled up in bed behind him, turning Charles how he wanted. “We’re just going to take a nap.”
“Okay, I’ve got some errands to run,” Raven decided. “You want me to come back later?”
“Are you staying in the city? Are you staying with Hank?” Raven’s long-suffering look suggested she was. “You could come back for supper, if you want. Or after supper.” The meals here were more about nutrition than taste or style.
“Maybe after,” Raven agreed tactfully. “See ya!” She turned off the lights on the way out.
“You don’t have to take a nap just because I do,” Charles reminded Erik.
“Charles, mine,” Erik responded, nuzzling his neck. “Mine, Charles.”
“Yours,” Charles agreed, patting the arm that wrapped carefully around him. Erik said this to Charles every time they went to sleep, to reassure Charles that Erik would protect him, no matter what. Remembering where they had been just a short time ago made Charles’s nose start to tingle, so he quickly banished such thoughts and tried to get some sleep.
**
Charles was to get a haircut. His hair had gotten longish in captivity, sort of scraggly and shaggy; Erik’s hair was quite short, as their captors had buzzed it regularly to avoid giving opponents something to grab onto, but they’d paid no such attention to the lone surviving Omega. Erik probably wouldn’t have let the guards get close to Charles with razors anyway, at least not without a lot of hurt.
Erik cuddled Charles where he sat on the bed, sensing his Omega’s rising stress even though nothing in the environment had changed. “It’s just a haircut,” Charles said, not for the first time. “These people are nice, they won’t hurt me. So just—just stay calm, darling, and let them do it, okay?” Erik yipped in agreement, but Charles despaired anyway, because sometimes Erik just responded how he thought he should from Charles’s tone of voice. He found himself twisting his fingers together nervously, his palms sweating. Why didn’t he wait until Raven was here for this? She could help keep Erik calm—Frustration stabbed through Charles’s chest, constricting and hot. Could he not get a haircut without his sister anymore?
Erik whined softly and nosed at Charles’s neck, detecting some very complex thoughts coursing through his Omega that were upsetting him, and Erik didn’t know how to help with that. If Charles was cold, Erik could keep him warm; if he needed to shower, Erik could help with that, too. Erik had learned to belt Charles’s jeans and tie his shoes for him. But he couldn’t seem to fix things, when the part that was broken was inside his Omega’s head.
“Just stay calm, Erik, just stay calm,” Charles repeated tensely, as the door to their room was unlocked. Erik knew Charles knew someone was coming in, but he had to bark anyway; he had to make sure their visitor was aware someone was protecting this territory. “Hush, Erik, it’s alright!” Charles tried to tell him, his tone taking on a desperate tinge as he clutched at Erik with his good hand, hoping to keep him safely on the bed. His mind went straight to the worst possible outcome, tears pricking his eyes as he thought of Erik getting hurt, being separated from Charles—“Be quiet!” he snapped at Erik, who silenced himself, but now he was tense, too.
Great. This was already going so well.
A woman came in pushing a cart, wearing brightly-colored scrubs. She was rotund and maternal, and did not seem at all nervous, which made one person anyway. “Hello, sweetie!” she greeted cheerfully. “Ready for a haircut?”
“Yes, thank you—Erik!” Pulling out of Charles’s grip, the Alpha approached the nurse to sniff at her. “He just—he wants to protect me,” Charles explained to her pleadingly. “We have to—Erik, come here, come back here!”
Erik was busy poking at the tools the woman had brought in. “Oh, he’s just curious!” she dismissed pleasantly. “Don’t you worry, sweetie, I’m going to make him look good!” Erik gave a little bark, and she laughed. “You’re right, he already looks good,” she conceded. Charles found it rather odd being the one talked about, especially with Erik, but that was far better than Erik getting upset.
“I suppose you have some experience with these Alphas,” Charles realized slowly.
“Of course!” The nurse waited patiently as Erik examined the scissors. “My name’s Diane. Actually my husband and I have a dog-grooming business also,” she added to Charles, “so I’m used to clients who act on instinct.”
“That is so brilliant,” Charles told her, now tearing up with relief. Of course this wasn’t a regular hospital, they had specially trained personnel here, or at least people selected for their skills and personality. “I was just so—” He paused and took a deep breath, refocusing on his priorities. “Erik, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said, and Erik looked up from nibbling on a comb. “I was just worried you might get hurt—” It seemed stupid in retrospect, and yet the feeling still hit him like a punch in the gut.
Erik dropped the comb with a clatter and bounded back to Charles, hugging and snuffling him enthusiastically, though mindful of his broken arm. He was always willing to forgive and forget.
“Mmm, wish I could get a response like that from my husband,” Diane commented sassily. “Well, are you ready, sweetie?”
“Are you ready, Erik?” Charles checked, not wanting to rush him.
In response, Erik stepped back and looked over Charles with a critical eye, slightly exaggerated, and lifted some of his hair with disapproval. “Mm-hmm, time for a trim,” Diane agreed. “How short do you want it?”
“Well, I usually have it—” Charles started to describe, but Erik jumped in, gesturing and moving Charles’s hair around in an attempt to describe his preference to Diane. Charles bit back a grin and let him be; he was confident Diane would make it look alright, and it was only hair. It would grow back.
“Uh-huh, so you want it a little longer on top, shorter in the back?” Diane interpreted thoughtfully. “Well let’s just see what happens.” Expertly she sat Charles in a chair and draped a smock over him—Erik was really fascinated by the smock—and then attached a sort of tray around his neck to catch the hair as it was cut. “This long? Shorter? Keep your head straight, honey,” Diane instructed, positioning Charles’s head just so. He closed his eyes and let them work.
After a few minutes Erik made some excited yips and Charles opened his eyes, assuming the goal had been reached. “You like that?” Diane asked Erik. “Here, sweetie, see what you think.” She handed Charles a mirror and held one at his back so he could see the back of the haircut. Then they had to wait a few minutes while Erik investigated the amazing properties of the double mirror.
“I think that looks really great,” Charles said, when he was finally able. He probably would have said that about any halfway decent haircut, in comparison to what he had before. “Thank you so much, Diane.”
“You’re welcome!” she replied, cleaning up. “Just doing my job.”
As soon as the tray and smock were removed, Erik swept Charles up and snuffled him. “Yes, it’s still me,” Charles laughed. “Just a little less of me, I suppose.”
“You two have a nice day now,” Diane called as she left with her cart, and Erik yipped in response.
“She was nice,” Charles commented, as Erik continued to nuzzle him. “People are. Nice, I mean. Lots of people, anyway. I forget that sometimes.” This was too philosophical for Erik. “I’m sorry I was so upset before,” Charles went on, rubbing Erik’s arms around him. “I was thinking about when the guards cut your hair, and how rough they were, and what you would do to protect me from them…”
Erik growled and gave his Omega a gentle shake; he needed to stop thinking about the past, about the Bad Place. Erik was certain that the nice people here weren’t going to send them to another Bad Place, so Charles should be happy.
“Yes, you’re right,” Charles conceded with a sigh. “It’s just not that easy for me, sometimes.” Erik had been in captivity for longer, and was forced to fight other Alphas; Charles had had it easier, in some ways, being protected by Erik from day one. He’d seen for himself what had happened to the other Omegas.
These thoughts were not helping, however, and Charles spun in Erik’s arms, burying his face against the Alpha’s shoulder to blot out the images that danced before his eyes. Erik stroked his newly-cut hair and made little cooing sounds to soothe him.
Charles sniffled and told himself to get a grip. “Thank you, Erik,” he said moistly. “Do you want—Let’s look at a magazine,” he suggested. Raven had left some new ones for them, and Erik enjoyed having Charles explain the pictures to him. “Raven will be surprised when she sees my hair, yeah? Do you think she’ll like it?” Erik was not concerned with Raven’s opinion on that score; he liked it and so did Charles, and that was enough.
**
Erik let Raven into the room, seemingly happy to see her but also blocking her view of Charles. “What the—what is going on, buddy?” she demanded of Erik, pushing on him lightly. “Charles, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” he confirmed. “I think Erik means something as a surprise for you, so perhaps you should close your eyes.”
That would explain why Erik kept waving his hands in Raven’s face. “Okay,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “I’ve got clothes for him, by the way,” she added as Erik guided her blind into the room.
“How lovely! Thank you, Raven,” Charles told her from where he sat on the edge of the bed. Erik yipped, allowing Raven to open her eyes.
“You got a haircut!” she realized after a moment, and Charles grinned. “It looks like I remember, I almost didn’t notice.” Raven ruffled Charles’s hair fondly, and Erik scowled at her and immediately combed Charles’s hair back into place.
“Erik likes it, too,” Charles told her dryly. “In fact, he picked out how it should be. Or maybe the hair stylist did, I’m not sure if she really understood his directions.”
“Well, you look almost back to normal,” Raven judged, which Charles decided to take as a compliment.
“What did you get for Erik?” Charles prompted, indicating her shopping bags. “Did, ahem, Hank help out?”
“Yes he did,” Raven responded primly. “He says hi. I said he should write a note, so he might do that sometime.”
“Did you get jeans?” Charles asked, reaching for a bag. His goal was to get out of the hospital and go home, where he knew he would encounter people—friends who cared about him, that is, but the thought of people in general, especially those who knew what had happened to him, still made him uncomfortable. “What about shoes?”
“These are for Erik,” Raven reminded him, pulling a bag away. “C’mere, big guy, and open your presents!” Erik had gone off to another part of the room to tidy and straighten things, disinterested in whatever Raven was carrying as it didn’t smell like food. When she summoned him and shook the bags, however, he returned. “Okay, look in here first,” she instructed, handing him a red shopping bag.
Erik pulled out a pair of jeans and unfolded them, turning them all around and sniffing at them. Then he made Charles stand and held the pants up to him, dismayed to see they were too big. “No, they’re for you,” Charles corrected fondly. “Remember all that measuring Raven did? It was so she could get clothes for you.” Charles pressed the jeans against Erik instead, showing how they appeared to be a better fit.
Erik chucked the jeans aside and went back to the bag. Raven rolled her eyes but didn’t seem to take it personally. This time Erik pulled out a maroon long-sleeved t-shirt. Again he held it up to Charles, shaking the sleeves where it would have to be cut to accommodate his cast and IV.
Charles was beginning to see the problem. “No, darling, it’s all for you,” he emphasized to Erik. “Raven brought me clothes earlier, now these are yours. We don’t have to share. You know, he always gives me some of his food,” Charles added to Raven. “He’s probably thinking the same thing here.” It was sweet, really.
Now Erik had unearthed a shoebox from another bag, containing a sharp pair of motorcycle boots. He set one on the floor beside Charles’s smaller foot, and Charles nudged it over to his, hoping Erik would get the idea soon and show some appreciation for what Raven had brought. Unfortunately, Erik seemed more interested in the tissue paper in the shoebox, which he began shredding.
“Darling, don’t make a mess, please,” Charles requested patiently. Normally Erik was very clean, but sometimes he got caught up in exploring new things.
“Well, there’s only one other thing,” Raven said, handing over the last bag. “Hope he likes this.”
“I’m sure he’ll like the other things,” Charles promised her, feeling bad. “You know, he just doesn’t understand right away—”
“Rowr,” said Erik, which was a positive noise, and Charles saw that he was admiring a black leather jacket. Eagerly Erik sniffed it and tasted the material.
Charles and Raven exchanged a look. “I think he likes it,” Charles judged.
“He ought to,” Raven decided. “It’s a very nice jacket. Hank said I should stick with denim, but I thought Erik was more of a leather guy.”
Erik snuffled the jacket some more, examining the buttons and pockets. Then his eyes slid sideways to Charles—perhaps slightly guilty?—and he immediately tried to put the jacket around Charles’s shoulders.
“No, it’s for you,” Charles said once more, trying to be firm but not unpleasant. “It’s all for you. I had new clothes before, now you have new clothes. You see? That’s fair.”
Erik pondered this. Then he went and got some of Charles’s magazines, put them in the boot box with the lid on, and presented it to Charles.
“What the,” Raven asked in confusion.
Charles just smiled and accepted the box. “Thank you, Erik! That’s a very good idea, to store our magazines in the box.” He looked around for any other detritus. “Could I have the bags, too?” he asked Erik. “I think I could use them for storage also. If you don’t need them.”
Eagerly Erik handed over all the shopping bags. “Thank you, Erik,” Charles repeated. “Now there’s something for me, and something for you. Is that alright?”
Erik decided that it was, and gave Charles a celebratory hug and snaffle. “Gag me,” said Raven disdainfully. But obviously she didn’t yet understand how important it was to Erik, to make sure his Omega was taken care of, first and foremost.
“Okay, now will you try your new clothes on?” Charles prompted, and this time Erik was happy to do so, yanking his sweatshirt off over his head and kicking off his sneakers.
Raven stared. “Dude does work out a lot,” she noted, and Charles frowned at her.
“Turn around!” Charles ordered, when Erik started to remove his sweatpants unself-consciously. “Okay, jeans are going to be tighter,” he advised Erik as he tried to pull them on. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Are they the wrong size?” Raven worried, not daring to look.
“No, just different, I think,” Charles decided, watching the progression. Erik was awfully good-looking. Especially when he looked up and caught Charles staring, and grinned slowly, making Charles blush. “Just—put the shirt on,” Charles told him, flustered.
“Can I turn around yet?” Raven demanded. “This is boring.”
“I suppose,” Charles allowed, as Erik pulled on the boots. Then he shrugged on the jacket and straightened up.
“D—n,” said Raven.
“D—n,” agreed Charles.
“You look just like a normal person, buddy,” Raven judged tactlessly, and Erik gave her one of his too-many-teeth grin/snarls. “Don’t do that, it’s creepy,” she advised, walking around him. “Yeah, if you could manage to walk around without sniffing people or barking at them, we could send you out to get pizza.”
Charles waved her off vehemently, feeling rather protective of Erik all of a sudden, or maybe the word was actually jealous. “Erik looks very nice, but there’s no need to rush things,” he insisted, drawing Erik back over to the bed with him. “He doesn’t need to go out.”
Raven smirked knowingly but for once kept her smart remarks to herself. “Sit down and let me cut the tags off,” she instructed Erik. “I’ll get some more stuff in these sizes. Will I have to buy him underwear?” she asked with a grimace.
“Probably some,” Charles confirmed. “Just do it by mail or something. Sit still, darling, you might get cut.” Erik was clearly not comfortable with Raven wielding scissors so close to him, and began to whine. Charles made sympathetic noises and rubbed his shoulder.
“There,” Raven declared, tucking the tags into her purse for future shopping expeditions. “So what other exciting things have you guys been up to here?”
**
Charles got off the IV finally, which was a great relief not just to him but also to Erik, who felt more comfortable leaving Charles alone in the (locked) room now that he could be assured his Omega was acting more sensibly. Especially with his “real” clothes, Erik was able to wander around the secure wing more and work on blending in, to the point where occasional staff sometimes assumed he was merely a visitor, albeit one who was not very interested in small talk. Charles had emerged from one of his appointments multiple times, to find Erik loyally waiting outside the door, helplessly nodding at a chatterbox orderly or visitor who thought he was “such a great listener.”
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Charles said. He had gotten more assertive about cutting in, when he found people didn’t pick up on the cue of Erik standing to join him. “Erik, can you take me back to the room, please, I’m awfully tired.” Of course, Erik did not notice or care if someone thought him rude for just walking away at that point.
As they passed one of the other rooms a commotion arose within it, and they both glanced in through the window. The other Alphas had all responded differently to treatment; some were taking it well, others had more difficulty adjusting. Charles had rather complex feelings about them and found it best to stay away.
The door opened to admit some more personnel to deal with this particular Alpha, who was having a bad day; and Erik made a quick decision, positioning Charles securely against the wall before slipping smoothly into the room himself. The other Alpha’s name was Justin; Charles recognized him from fights, but he hadn’t been in their section of cages.
Erik stayed near the door, assessing the situation for a moment. Then he let out a low growl, taking everyone by surprise. Charles watched through the window, biting his lip nervously and trying to fight the rising panic that Erik would get hurt somehow. Erik let out a series of barks and snarls and approached Justin; Charles imagined he was saying something like, “Knock it off, stupid. This is a nice place here! Just chill out.”
Justin responded with continued agitation at first, but Erik repeated his message, getting close enough to give the other Alpha a little swipe—“Come on, man, stop it already.” At that point Charles realized that the staff, though watching warily, had allowed the interaction to happen, so maybe they weren’t looking for any excuse to pounce on Erik and punish him. Which of course seemed a ridiculous fear, once he’d articulated it.
Erik was now rubbing Justin’s head and getting a response in turn, of grudging agreement; it was like watching two athletes on the sidelines of a big game. Then Erik backed away and Justin’s trusted staff moved in, and after observing for a moment longer, Erik left. Immediately he took Charles and sniffed at him, to make sure he was still okay.
“You were so brilliant, Erik!” Charles praised, starting to get a bit misty-eyed. “And so kind, I’m sure you really helped Justin.” Why should he be so lucky, to be chosen by someone who was so kind and good, even when he had no reason to be? Erik shrugged modestly and led Charles back to their room. This was one of those times when Charles wished Erik could articulate what he was thinking; but maybe it was enough that Erik was happy to hold Charles and listen to him talk. For now, anyway.
**
Charles was being released from the hospital! And Erik, too, of course. Charles was slightly chagrined to realize he was the one holding them back—Erik might’ve been able to live at a halfway house and get by with some kind of laborious, minimum wage job. Actually that sounded horrible when Charles thought about it, and he clung to Erik tightly with his good arm as they waited for Raven to arrive. Erik would be so much better off going home with Charles. He had been trying to describe the house and grounds to Erik for a while now, but had the impression Erik couldn’t quite picture it—his memory encompassed only dark, indoor spaces, and the pictures in the magazines were usually too spectacular, not to mention tropical.
Besides which, Charles reasoned he was probably giving off mixed signals, trying to talk about the change positively, while also struggling not to panic at the thought of being back out in the world, at least en route to home. They had packed up what little they possessed and now Charles wouldn’t let Erik leave the bed, trying to speak soothingly while also gripping Erik’s arm like iron. Erik nuzzled at him, easily sensing that his Omega was upset, but unable to figure out why. Omegas were complex like that.
A knock on the door made Charles almost jump out of his skin, and Erik rolled over and sat up, barking as two orderlies entered with wheelchairs, trailed by Raven and Moira. Charles felt the room become very small.
“Congratulations!” Moira said cheerfully, embracing Erik. He yipped excitedly, because almost everyone else seemed happy. “Are you ready to get going?” she asked Charles, who actually looked a little pale and clammy.
“I think I’ll go to the bathroom first,” he decided hurriedly, and scuttled away to be alone for a few moments. Calm down, he ordered himself sharply.
Erik looked after him with a frown and tried to convey his concern to Raven. “He’ll be okay,” she assured Erik. “It’ll just take some time. Did you see Erik’s new clothes?” she asked Moira by way of distraction. “Is he a stud or what?” On cue Erik gave ‘the look’ Raven had taught him, which she felt was ‘smoldering.’
“He looks very nice,” Moira agreed tactfully.
“Here, I brought you some sunglasses,” Raven said to Erik, pulling out a pair. “You put them—No, come on, you won’t get stabbed if you hold still—” Erik did not like things on his face, especially things that made it harder to see. “Fine,” Raven huffed, putting them away. “You’ll want them back when we get outside.” Erik bared his teeth at her and she rolled her eyes.
“I think you guys are going to be just fine,” Moira decided warmly.
Charles emerged from the bathroom, and both Raven and Erik tried to tattle to him immediately. “He won’t wear his sunglasses,” Raven pouted, while Erik swept Charles up and yipped at him in protest.
Fortunately this was the sort of chaos he could handle, that distracted him from the chaos inside his head. “Okay, okay, I’m sure she was very mean,” he told Erik indulgently. “Just try again when we get outside,” he added to Raven. “Do you have some for me? If I wear them he will, too.”
Raven grabbed the suitcase while Charles hugged Moira goodbye. “I’ll be back soon to get my cast off,” he reminded her. “Thanks for everything.” It was hard to know what to say to the person who had saved your life.
“We’ll be keeping in touch,” Moira promised. “We’re still working on Erik’s identity. Hopefully Dr. Benson will help you guys come up with ideas.” That was the civilian psychiatrist Erik and Charles would be seeing in the city once a week.
Then Charles sat down in the wheelchair, ready to be delivered to the car Raven had gone off to get. He predicted she would have plenty of time, because first he had to convince Erik to sit in the other chair, instead of pushing Charles. “No, that’s for you,” Charles told him. “We both get to ride. These guys are going to push both of us. How’s it going, guys?” The orderlies were beefy types but friendly; Charles had seen them around before, so Erik probably had, too. “Come on, that’s it.” Charles kept smiling and trying to relax his body language, and finally Erik sat down gingerly in the other wheelchair.
They rolled down the hallway like a little parade, staff smiling and waving at them. The attention made Charles want to curl up and hide, but he reminded himself that these people had helped him, and where happy to see him getting better and going home, so he smiled and waved back. Erik did not seem to be afflicted with these feelings and merely stared back at people.
They rolled into the elevator—Erik had been in it before, going to other floors for tests—and then out into the first floor and down the hall to the side entrance. The large windows nearly blinded Charles, who had been living with the windows mostly covered, and he heard Erik snarling and whining behind him.
“Sunglasses,” Raven said smugly, handing Charles a pair and dangling Erik’s in front of him. He snatched at them, now understanding their purpose. “Okay, hop in the back, guys. Guess I will play chauffeur today,” since Charles thought it best that he stay close to Erik for the ride.
“Could you have possibly brought a larger vehicle?” Charles asked dryly, climbing into the hulking SUV.
“The Hummer’s in the shop,” Raven quipped, as they waited for Erik to finish inspecting the car. “He’s not going to pee on the tires, is he?”
Charles gave her a chiding look. “Erik, darling, come on,” he urged, suddenly eager to get away before anyone could realize a mistake had been made in letting him out. “You can look at the car later. Come on, get in. No, you have to sit there, and you have to keep your seatbelt on,” Charles emphasized as Raven strapped him in. He knew Erik didn’t like the restraint. “It’s a matter of safety, because we’re going to be driving very fast. And I will sit here and hold your hand,” he concluded, demonstrating. “That’s alright, isn’t it? Don’t push those buttons.”
“I’m engaging the child locks,” Raven assured him, meaning Erik quickly lost interest in buttons that did nothing. Besides, there was so much more to see outside the window! People and cars and buildings and lights and—
“Yes, the world is very big, isn’t it?” Charles commented to Erik. “That’s a hot dog vendor. You can eat hot dogs, you would probably like them because they’re just sticks of meat. We’ll have hot dogs sometime when we get home.”
“Over Mrs. Malloy’s dead body,” Raven predicted.
“There must be homemade, gourmet hot dogs in the world,” Charles mused. Their housekeeper was very proud of her culinary skills and had never allowed Charles and Raven to be pandered to with typical kid foods like chicken nuggets and fish sticks. “That’s a mail box. It’s where people post letters that get delivered around the world. That’s a dog, a black Lab, I think. I bet you would like a dog, wouldn’t you, Erik?” Charles asked fondly.
“We have dogs,” Raven reminded him, fearing a puppy would be the next new thing she had to deal with. “Big, slavering guard dogs. Erik will love them, they’ll be like his brothers.”
“You need to stop making comments like that,” Charles told her severely. “He’ll understand you and be hurt. That’s someone riding a bicycle,” he added as Erik pointed.
“I doubt both of those assumptions,” Raven shot back, but took his point. “He’ll love the guard dogs because they’ll make him feel safe,” she rephrased. “Like a mini-pack protecting his Omega.” Charles rolled his eyes, even more so when Erik yipped in apparently agreement.
“That’s a sculpture,” Charles went on. “They’re pretty to look at. And that’s a park, with grass and trees. That’s what our land looks like, with grass and trees and ponds. You will like it so much, Erik,” he repeated earnestly. “You can run and run outdoors, and climb trees, and swim in the pond—”
“We also have a swimming pool, and treadmills,” Raven put in, for those who were not so interested in nature.
They left the city and drove through the suburbs, then the farmlands dotted by small towns. Erik stared avidly out the window, holding Charles’s hand and shaking it impatiently when Charles failed to explain what Erik was looking at. Charles tried to be glad Erik was excited rather than frightened, but it was a little exhausting keeping up with him, not to mention guessing what had caught Erik’s eye.
Then the scenery became especially familiar, and Charles felt his stomach begin in knot and clench. He wanted to be home, but somehow getting there was stressful. “Who—who’s going to be at the house?” he asked Raven.
“Just Mrs. Malloy and Stewart,” she replied. “I told everyone else to take the afternoon off.” She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Right,” Charles confirmed tightly. Actually he didn’t know what he wanted, but fewer people seemed better. He just wanted to make it to his room and lie down on his bed. Well, he would probably use his bathroom first. The psychiatrist had suggested walking through what he planned to do at the end of a stressful time, and soon he would find himself doing exactly that and be comforted by the control he felt.
Of course, that only worked if his plans weren’t derailed by something. Like Erik’s excessive love of cows.
“It’s just more cows, Erik!” Charles said, trying to make it humorous instead of sharp as Erik barked and pointed at another herd. Erik might have leaped from the car to chase them by now, if he’d been able. “Cows really aren’t that interesting. They smell, and aren’t very smart.”
“But they taste good,” Raven interjected. “And, they make ice cream.”
“Erik has never eaten ice cream,” Charles noted, knowing this would shock his sister. On cue she made a noise of horror. “They didn’t give us any at the hospital.”
“We are gonna have to fix that,” she vowed as Erik merely gazed at them in confusion, then turned back to the window.
“Okay, we’re—we’re coming up on our road,” Charles announced, not sure who the warning was really for. “Look up ahead, can you see the gates? Those are our gates.” A curious sense of lightness and relief began to rise in him at the sight of the familiar metal and stone; he was almost overpowered by simply feeling better, and Erik shook his hand and whined.
“It’s okay, we’re almost home,” Charles assured him. “Look at the fountain!” It was bubbling in the sunshine, at the center of the lawn surrounded by the circle drive. Behind it was the house—Erik made a noise, which Charles interpreted as jaw-dropping. “Yes, it’s big,” he agreed. The family home was properly termed a ‘manor.’ Charles had been trained to be blasé about it, but right now he was glad to have somewhere comfortable to share with Erik.
Raven wheeled the SUV up to the front door and parked. “Alright, who’s ready to get out?” she prompted after a moment, when no one moved.
Erik let out a brief yowl, and Charles realized he was probably feeling cooped up after a couple of hours in the car. “Here, let me get your seatbelt,” Charles told him hurriedly, reaching over to click the button. “You can open your door now, it’s that handle right there.”
Erik did so, scrambling out into the fresh air and taking a big whiff of it. Then he crawled back into the car and unbuckled Charles’s seatbelt as well, anxious that his Omega not be trapped in the moving box. “Thank you, Erik. I’m going to get out over here, okay?” Charles narrated as Raven opened his door for him.
This was not okay with Erik, who scrambled skillfully onto the top of the vehicle then crouched down to watch Charles exit, in case he needed help. “Get off of my car!” Raven squawked, swatting at him. “You’re leaving footprints on it!”
“Raven, Raven,” Charles chided, as Erik bared his teeth at her. “The footprints will wash off. Can you get down?” he directed Erik. “Don’t jump, just climb—”
“Don’t encourage him,” Raven grumbled, as Erik lowered himself back down. Then he gathered Charles close and snaffled at him, like he hadn’t been able to do for hours in the moving box.
“Okay, okay,” Charles sighed, needing everyone to calm down. They hadn’t even gotten in the front door yet.
“You are helping me wash this car,” Raven threatened Erik as she retrieved the suitcase. “I’m going to teach you how to do it, you’ll probably think it’s a lot of fun!”
“Let’s just—” Charles steered Erik towards the door. Resolutely Erik clung to his hand, though he was looking everywhere, especially at the trees off to the side. But he would not let his Omega enter a strange place alone—at least, it was strange to Erik.
They walked into the cavernous entry hall. “Yes, it’s big,” Charles repeated. When he was younger it had seemed big and cold and dark, full of strange echoes and disapproving ancestral portraits. Now he could feel the warmth of all the carved wood, smell the cleaning products Mrs. Malloy preferred, and the space embraced him. He thought perhaps his captivity hadn’t really ended until right now.
Raven was ill-equipped to deal with Charles getting emotional again. “Hey, let’s go up to your room,” she suggested. “I told Stewart and Mrs. Malloy to wait in the kitchen, in case you were tired—”
“Yes, I am tired,” Charles agreed as they moved towards the stairs. “Perhaps I’ll take a nap, and you can show Erik around.” He was eager for Erik to see what Charles could offer him here—it was only right that Charles finally bring something valuable to the table, after all Erik had done for him.
“You want to use the elevator?” Raven prompted. “I bet Erik would rather you use the elevator.” Considering Charles looked like he might drop any second.
This seemed like a good idea. Charles figured he must look bad, since Erik didn’t even stop to marvel at how the elevator doors blended in to the wood panels. He encouraged Charles to lean against him as they rode upward one floor, nuzzling him comfortingly.
“These are the bedrooms,” Raven narrated as they went down the hall. “This one’s mine. You better stay out if you know what’s good for you,” she ordered Erik.
“Perhaps you’d better lock the door for a while,” Charles noted mildly.
“And here’s your room,” Raven told her brother unnecessarily, but fondly, glad to finally have him back where he belonged after months of uncertainty. She opened the door and Charles stumbled in, the furniture and books and clothes forming a surreal portrait. In some ways it was as if he had never been gone.
Erik could tell they had reached somewhere important. But this was unfamiliar territory for him, and he had to reassure himself it was safe for his Omega. Taking Charles’s shoulders he positioned him next to the wall and pushed Raven next to him, making sure she stayed there.
“He wants you to stay with me while he looks around,” Charles interpreted for her. He expected nothing less from his Alpha.
Raven rolled her eyes. “Geez. Mrs. Malloy just cleaned it. We tried not to move your stuff but she couldn’t stand the dust.”
“That’s lovely, thank you,” Charles assured her sleepily.
Erik darted around the bedroom, snuffling avidly. He paid particular attention to the bed, then opened a drawer and began yanking out clothing. It all smelled like Charles, so that was okay.
“Oh, Mrs. Malloy is going to love him,” Raven predicted dryly as Erik carelessly discarded the t-shirts on the floor.
“Erik, darling, check the bathroom, so I can use it,” Charles suggested, struggling to stay focused.
Erik opened the door they pointed to and made a thorough investigation of the bathroom. The towels were perfumed to mask their users’ scents, which was suspicious.
“Maybe unscented fabric softener from now on,” Charles mentioned, breezing past Erik to the water closet. Erik sneezed at the fake floral scent and began piling towels up to be tossed out.
“Okay, okay, we’ll rewash them,” Raven promised. “Stop making a mess! I’ll buy you new towels if you want. At least put them in the hamper.”
Charles left the small room and Erik dutifully followed him to the sink to wash his hand. Charles hoped to have the cast off in a week or so, which would make things easier, though Erik liked doing things for him.
“I’m going to take a nap,” he told Erik, leading him back to the bedroom. “Can you turn down the blankets for me? Can you help me with my shoes?” Charles laid down with a sigh and Erik tucked him in. “Thank you. Oh, do you see my penguin?”
Erik had no idea what a penguin was, but fortunately Raven knew what he meant and retrieved the stuffed animal from a shelf. Erik snatched it from her and turned it all around, squeezing and sniffing it. It also smelled like Charles, but that didn’t clarify its purpose.
“It’s a toy,” Charles tried to explain, once Erik had passed it on. He hugged the penguin to his chest and curled up around it. “It’s nice to hug.” It was a little juvenile, he supposed, but he was finally home; he had earned some penguin time.
Erik did not really get it; he had Charles to cuddle, a small stuffed thing was not as good. But it made his Omega happy.
“Better check the closets,” Charles hinted, and Raven steered Erik towards the other doors in the room. “We’ll have to make room for Erik’s things,” he mused, hearing the Alpha shuffle things around.
“If there’s room,” Raven shot back. Charles tended to collect material goods; she didn’t even chide Erik when he knocked something over in the closet, figuring that was inevitable. “Just leave it,” she advised. “I had Mrs. Malloy get a room ready for Erik,” she added to Charles, “but I figured he would want to stay with you for a while.”
“Probably, but it would be nice for him to have his own space,” Charles agreed. They had lived very closely together for several months; Erik deserved to have a room he didn’t have to share with anyone. “Darling, why don’t you go with Raven now, and she’ll show you around?” he told Erik. “She’ll show you outside, and the other people who live here—” Things he was certain Erik would be very interested in.
“Yeah, come on, big guy,” Raven encouraged. “Lots to see, and Charles can take a nap.”
Erik looked from one to the other, and his expression distinctly said, Who are you kidding? He began to take off his jacket and shoes.
“Erik!” Charles sighed. “You don’t have to take a nap now, I’m fine, I’m safe—”
The new den seemed secure, and it was where his Omega used to reside; but clearly his Omega was not able to protect himself just yet. So Erik was not going to leave him alone. Charles and his sister were making a lot of noise about it, though. Did Charles really want Erik to go away and leave him alone? “Charles, mine. Mine, Charles.”
“Oh, not the puppy dog eyes,” Charles moaned. “Argh! Erik!” The Alpha made a little whining, questioning noise, and Charles gave in. “Alright, you can stay,” he allowed, and Erik pounced on the bed and cuddled him like a penguin. “But just for an hour, alright? Then you go with Raven.”
“Too easy,” Raven muttered, shaking her head.