Chapter Text
“I need a refill on my prescription, please.”
Suppressants were a pain in the bloody arse to get. So many hoops to jump through, continuous check-ups at the doctor’s, blood tests, vitamin supplements, and more blood tests. They were almost as difficult to get as birth control. Almost.
“I’m sorry, sir, there seems to be a problem getting your medication.”
John looked up from where he had been gazing at a few select magazines on display below the counter. A small frown bloomed on his face. “Complication?” He hadn’t missed his last check-up, had he? He swore he had been there just last week, Tuesday at half three, as always. “Is it something on my end? Can I fix it today?” He had two doses left at home. Two more days. He needed the refill by then or… well, he didn’t want to think about that.
“Let me go get my supervisor. She can help you.” Betas. Always willing to please. They needed to obey. Iuvare – literally to help, aid, or assist – as John’s Latin professor affectionately called them, if it was possible to use an infinitive as a descriptor. Even John could boss them around. Not as much as an Alpha, but the point still stood.
John stood off to the side, a bit awkwardly. This was the pharmacy on campus, after all. There were other students milling about. Mostly Betas, but a few Omegas in line behind him, most likely here for either suppressants or birth control. His nostrils flared at the scent of an Alpha, but his body did not otherwise react. Soon, the scent was gone.
A woman approached him, Beta, late fifties judging by her hair and her wrinkles. She had a kind smile, but it was too apologetic for John’s taste. “I’m so sorry, Mr Watson. We can’t fill this here. There has been a recall on suppressants, as of this morning.”
This morning. Recall.
“What do you mean?” John’s voice was steady, not showing the panic he was feeling in the pit of his gut.
“The government rescinded the law that made suppressants legal. You can’t get them anywhere. They’ve all been recalled. I’m so sorry, Mr Watson.” Her voice was sympathetic, and John knew that she actually was really, very sorry. But there was nothing she could do, nothing John could do.
“No, it’s… fine. It’s fine. Not your fault.” He smiled, placating. If he had been off suppressants he may have lashed at her, violent, angry. It was one of the reasons that he took suppressants. He didn’t like the mood swings. “Thank you for talking to me. I’m glad I heard from you and not the announcement.” There would be an announcement; it was just typical that the powerful Alphas that ran the world wouldn’t announce it until later in the day.
He sighed heavily, pocketing his prescription information and his wallet. He had another class in about an hour, so he decided to head over there, sit around and wait. Give him some time to stew in his thoughts.
Fuck. No more suppressants. Two more days. Fuck. Could he space it out more? Take half the dose he was supposed to and make it last four days? No. No, that was dangerous. His dose was made specifically for him. That was why there were so many tests. Each dose gave a specific amount to its specific Omega, allowing the blockage of the mood swings and the barring of heats, while still letting them retain their scenting abilities. The idea was that it would allow Omegas to be their own person throughout their university years, but still be able to acquire a mate once they were ready to settle down. At that point, they would be able to get off of the suppressants, start having heats again, and bear pups as they were always meant to.
Obviously, that was no longer the plan.
John had been taking suppressants since he presented at twelve. That was a normal age for Omegas. Between eleven and thirteen. John was the average. Betas never presented. Alphas started presenting between eighteen and twenty-one. The university grounds were filled with Alphas fighting each other, roughing it up, participating in sports and dominating the field.
John, always an exception when it came to his second gender, was one of the star rugby players. Most Omegas stayed away from sports, seeing as they didn’t want to come off as too tough, didn’t want to scare away a potential mate. John had joined for just that purpose. He didn’t want a bloody mate. He wanted a life. He wanted to be a doctor. An army doctor – he’d filled out the paperwork to join already. Unfortunately, joining rugby had not kept the Alphas away. It had, instead bore the opposite affect; it had drawn them in. He was harassed in the locker rooms, courted, flirted at. They liked a strong, tough Omega. One who could handle their rough touches and hard-handedness while mating.
John bared his teeth and raised his hackles at the lot of them, but that only spurred them on. A challenge. Damned if John was just going to drop his head and be submissive to them. No, they were children, immature. Even if he was looking for a mate, it wouldn’t be in one of them.
He didn’t know what would happen in those locker rooms now that he couldn’t be on suppressants anymore. Fuck.
Outside, the scent of Alpha hung light on the breeze. The courtyard was packed with them, standing in circles to hide the rows that were happening. They were snarling at each other over lunches, books, and any and every Omega that walked by. Christ, they were terrifying. On the other hand, however, there was a group of older Alphas – bachelors hung out in groups, needing pack dynamics – and they were collected, cool, and when they met John’s eyes in approval, he flushed. He didn’t drop his eyes, though. That would signal submission, willingness to court. He wasn’t willing.
In two days, he may not have a choice of will.
He’d been on suppressants for too long. He didn’t remember what it was like to have to control his Omega, though he remembered that he and the Omega were practically separate beings. One was human; one was beast. They could coexist, but certain things tipped the scales. Usually, Alphas were the scale-tippers. The Omega would react submissively before John would be able to stop it.
He was going to cherish these last two days.
Inside, the smell of Beta was dominant. Betas were soldiers, doctors, or police officers more often than the other genders. However, due to a large parent generation and too many people in their generations, younger Alphas were starting to take on these roles. John was one of only a small handful of Omegas daring enough to make a place for himself in this working class. Would he even be interested in going through with his plans once he was off of his suppressants?
Of course you will, idiot. You don’t have to bend to their will.
No, he didn’t, but the Omega would want to.
He didn’t know what his heat schedule was. Did his show up every two months or every three? Did they last the full thirty-six hours or were they less? Would the first one be worse since he had been suppressing them for so long?
Before he could panic, he put a reminder in his phone to call his doctor and set up an appointment. Soon.
“Are you alright?”
John jumped, spinning around to find the voice. Alpha, the scent told him, washing over him, relaxing. Pheromones. Alphas could project them to calm their mates. Or, really, any distressed Omega.
A pair of Alphas across the room started walking over, but John bared his teeth at them, and they moved away.
“I’m fine,” he replied, not unkindly. He looked up at the Alpha and didn’t recognise him.
“You’re not. You’re anxious.” Dark brows furrowed in concern. Was this courting? It didn’t feel like courting, but John always believed that he could never be too careful.
“Of course I’m anxious. I’m a medical student.” He was still calm. His Omega would probably be snapping. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about that. It would happen soon enough; he didn’t need to rush it.
The Alpha looked him over. John returned the gesture. He was only just taller than John, not as built. Posh, but not overly so. He had a soft look about him. Like most Alphas, he probably came from money. Tan skin, dark hair. He was gorgeous, really. But there was no attraction on John’s end.
“I appreciate the concern.” He smiled, held the Alpha’s gaze. The Alpha returned the gesture. Maybe in another life. Maybe not, since John could probably snap that Alpha in half.
In his medical theory class, they deviated from the planned schedule to show the broadcast about the suppressants being cancelled. The professor made them discuss the affect this would have on society in general and then to focus on how it would affect Omegas as a sub-group. John was the only Omega in the class. He didn’t say a thing.
The Alpha from the corridor caught his eye, though.
John couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
There were two items in the mail waiting for him at home. His mother had pointed to them on the table, and then resumed her cooking. She didn’t mention anything about the recall of suppressants, though they didn’t have a television, so she probably hadn’t heard the news. It wasn’t as if it would affect her, though. She was over the age of pup bearing, and could have no more heats.
The first item was a pamphlet, a long one, talking about coming off suppressants. John glanced at his mother’s back. She had to know, then, had to have figured it out from this. Maybe she just didn’t want to talk about it. Harry would be coming off of them, too, but she got her refill two days ago. She would be alright for another month.
He made a mental note to delete the reminder on his phone to call the doctor.
The second item was an envelope, expensive stock, thick. A seal was stamped into the corner. The British Army.
John sat down, carefully tearing open the envelope, keeping his hands from shaking. He knew that they were going to decline him. They had to decline him. He wasn’t taking suppressants anymore, there was no way that they would even consider letting him in. They would be stupid to let him in when his heats or mood swings could interrupt missions or cost people their lives.
He read the letter. Read it again.
“Shite.”
His mother finally turned around. “John? Everything okay?”
He looked up at her, holding out the letter. “I got in,” he said slowly, making the words sound real to him. He got in. Despite the rest of the shit going on in his life, he got in. “I leave for basic training in three weeks.”
He knew that his mother didn’t want him to go, but still she pulled John to his feet and embraced him, her tears wet on his neck. Oh, Mum… He would miss her. He would come home to her.
‘The first three days after your last dose of Branotirum™ will continue as if you are still taking a daily dose, as it takes that long for the drug to leave your system. After that, you may experience headaches, nausea, and vomiting for a period of twenty-four hours.’
Great, yeah, that was just what John wanted. Feeling like shit for getting off of a drug he didn’t want to be off of in the first place. He skipped ahead to a more helpful part of the pamphlet.
‘Readjusting to life as an Omega:
- Mood Swings – You will experience them in full force. Getting a handle on them may take weeks or even months, but eventually you will be able to find a balance and be able to know when a mood swing is about to happen, and therefore be able to stop it.’
- Heats – You will know when a heat is coming. Days prior, you will be more irritable. You will feel feverish. Your mood swings may worsen. When this happens, if you do not wish to mate, find an area where you can be alone and undisturbed. Wait out your heat there. Make sure that you have enough water to get you through.
- Social Order – You may notice yourself being more submissive towards Alphas, and more violent towards Betas. This is natural, the proper order of things. No one will think any less of you for your behaviours.
- Birth Control – If you are not ready for pups but do not want to spend your heats alone, birth control is the best option. There is a website at the bottom of this pamphlet that will let you know if you qualify for a discount.’
The list went on in an ever decreasing order of importance, telling John things like ‘find other Omegas to befriend’ or to ‘know several Betas’ and most importantly to ‘not be alone through this time of difficulty’. He snarled and balled up the pamphlet, then quickly smoothed it out again and pulled out his laptop. They weren’t taking birth control away because of overpopulation, and if John couldn’t get rid of his heats, he would take away the possibility of getting pregnant. He refused to have pups. He wanted a life. His hand rested a moment over his stomach, but he quickly shook his head and focused on his laptop.
As it turned out, he did, in fact, qualify for a discount now that he was officially accepted into the Army. He wasn’t the first Omega soldier, but he would be the first in the Royal Army Medical Corps. That was his goal, and he wouldn’t accept anything less.
He printed out the page that said he was certified for a discount, and then made another reminder to call in to his doctor, this time to talk about getting on a very different pill.
The pamphlet had been right. John took his last pill Thursday morning. Sunday morning he was still feeling like his normal self. By Monday, he couldn’t get out of bed. He was cold as ice one moment and then burning hot the next. He didn’t vomit, though he came close a couple of times. He was nauseous constantly. Stomach pains assaulted him every moment, ranging from small pinpricks all the way up to a twisting so horrible that he thought he was dying.
His mother stayed with him the whole day, mopping up his sweat, covering and uncovering him with blankets as his temperature fluctuated.
There was no break from the misery for a full twenty-four hours, as promised.
Tuesday morning came and dragged on, and John stayed in bed. He was exhausted from yesterday, but otherwise he felt… normal.
He was bloody starving is what he was. It was past ten when he rolled out of bed and pulled on some clothes. He brushed his teeth, his mouth tasting of bile despite his resistance to vomiting the day before. At first, he didn’t look in the mirror. He didn’t want to see if he had changed. Surely, he would look different after something as life changing as dropping his suppressants, going through the agony of the previous day. He looked. The same boy stared back at him, blue eyes bright, blond hair a mess from bed. He had circles under his eyes, darker than they normally were, but other than that, he was the same.
It felt wrong to look so unchanged.
Downstairs, he found his mother in the kitchen, working at some eggs and toast and beans. His stomach rumbled. “Smells good,” he said, hugging her from behind before he reached into a cabinet for a glass. Milk sounded like heaven at the moment.
“Feeling better, then?” She dished up three plates and set them out on the table. It was unusual for an Omega to raise her children alone, but John’s father was long gone. He’d been locked away when John was young. “Harry! Breakfast!”
Harry was in uni too, a year behind John. She didn’t have classes until noon, and was always around for breakfast. John usually left at half seven to be able to make his first class.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better,” John responded just as Harry came in, her brown hair straightened, clothes perfect. She wasn’t looking for a career; she was looking for a mate.
“Mornin’ Johnny,” she greeted with a smile, reaching out to snatch a bit of scrambled egg from his plate.
The Omega had a hold on Harry’s wrist before John knew what was going on, and a snarl rose to his bared teeth. Harry looked frightened, and the Omega was glad. No one stole from it. That was its food, John’s food.
“John.” A calm voice. Not Harry’s – she had wide eyes and her mouth wasn’t moving.
Submit to me. Not an Alpha, but the Omega demanded respect.
“John.” A hand on his cheek, soft, gentle. “Let your sister go. She’s not going to take from you, I promise. Come on, John, everything’s alright.”
Nothing was alright, not when food could be taken from him. He needed to eat, to support his metabolism, his pups, to consume calories to burn so that he could get through a heat without dying.
There was a pressure on the back of his neck, a spike of pain, and John relaxed, released Harry, ducked his head down. Submissive.
Submissive?
John blinked, twisted away from the touch on his neck. He was panting, eyes wide, looking for an Alpha. Bite, was his first thought. Alphas bit their Omegas to make them submit, to mark them. But it was just his mother, hand hanging where John had ripped away from it.
John was slow to comprehend, but eventually he understood that the pain had been from her nails, not from an Alpha’s incisors. He took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to where Harry was still staring at him, though the fear in her eyes was gone. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Harry.”
She smiled, and John could sense the sincerity behind the gesture. “It’s alright, Johnny. I should have known better. I’ve been doing some research and that was something it mentioned. I… I’m just so used to teasing you.”
Research? Fucking hell, John needed to get on that. They didn’t exactly teach classes on this stuff, which John thought was incredibly stupid.
He walked up to Harry and wrapped her in a hug, scenting her neck, pleased when he recognised Omega, family. He nuzzled, and it didn’t bother him that she didn’t nuzzle back. She didn’t know, yet. She wasn’t reacting, still too human. “Thank you for not being mad.”
Harry held him tighter for a moment before she pulled away. “I can’t be mad at my brother when he’s leaving me in a few weeks.” Now her smile was sad, and it touched her eyes and her scent and John didn’t like it, but there was nothing that he could do about it.