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Saga knows something's wrong as soon as she gets back to the car park. The way Casey stands stiffly beside the car, the way Wake is hunched over himself in the back seat - that could be explained by whatever it is Wake's been through. If it weren't for the scent of preheat hanging thick and heavy in the air.
Saga's an alpha; so's Casey. Which means that Wake is an omega - and about to go into heat. Shit.
"What happened?" she asks, and Casey grimaces.
"It started halfway back," he says. "Hit him bad once he was in the car. So I... stayed out here." He shrugs, and glances briefly at Wake. "Anderson... I've never seen an omega hit this bad by a heat. It's as if..."
As if he hasn't had a heat in thirteen years, Saga thinks. She exchanges a look with Casey.
Nobody knows where Wake's been for the past decade and change. And ordinarily Saga would assume there was some mundane explanation for him just... appearing on the lake shore like that. Even wearing a suit and clearly traumatised.
But after what happened with Nightingale, Saga can't coax herself to believe there's anything mundane about any of this. Not any more.
"Alright," she says. "Is it bad enough he's going to need help?"
They both know what she means by that. And they both know that if Wake does need help, it'll be Casey who has to give it. Saga's married and mated - it would be one thing if she was Wake's only option. If that were the case, she'd call David, talk to him about it. It's happened once or twice before in her career, and they've handled it.
But she's not Wake's only option.
Casey sighs. That's enough of an answer in itself.
"Are you willing?" Saga asks. That's important too. Casey doesn't exactly hate Wake, she's pretty sure, but he's definitely not Wake's biggest fan either.
"Who else is there?" Casey says, sounding resigned. Saga frowns.
"We could find someone in Bright Falls," she says. "Or - "
"No," Casey cuts her off. Saga raises an eyebrow; that's unusual for Casey. He's normally careful not to interrupt her, even defers to her at times. He continues, "He's our responsibility. We can't drag more civilians into this. I'll do it."
"Alright," Saga says. She looks at the car again, at Wake in the back seat. He looks... possibly even more miserable than when they'd found him on the shore. He's curled in on himself and shivering faintly. It could be the fact that it's late autumn and he's still in wet clothes; it could be the first sign of an absolutely miserable heat to come.
Casey follows her gaze, and his expression tightens faintly. Most people would probably assume it was distaste, but Saga knows him better than that. He's worried about Wake, despite himself.
She bumps Casey gently with her shoulder.
"Come on," she says. "Sooner we get back to the field office, the sooner we can figure out how we're going to do this."
Even though she braces herself, the scent when she opens the car door nearly knocks Saga off her feet. She glances at Casey to see how he's taking it - he doesn't even have the benefit of a mating bite to ground him, not any more. He's not going to lose control, of course - even if he hadn't gone through the same training as every other agent, keeping yourself under control is something so basic alphas learn it in elementary school nowadays. Still, it can be overwhelming being around an omega this close to their heat.
Casey loosens his tie a little, then sits in the passenger seat and determinedly ignores Wake. Saga sighs, and gets in.
She can see Wake in the rearview mirror. He'd lifted his head when they got into the car, and his pupils are blown wide. She's pretty sure the dazed look on his face isn't just from the aftereffects of crawling out of the lake.
...What a strange thought to have. Saga swallows, and pulls away, heading back towards Bright Falls.
Casey sits in the front seat, fists clenched so tightly his nails are digging into his palms, and tries not to breathe through his nose.
All the windows are rolled down except Wake's window, and it's still not enough. The sharp, dark scent of Wake's heat permeates absolutely everything. Casey's just glad he's not actually in heat yet - if he were, then Casey would be sitting here trying to hide his erection. As it is, he's on edge, fighting against the instinctual desire to sniff Wake.
It doesn't help that as they get closer to Bright Falls, Wake starts to make these sounds. Barely audible little whimpers, almost-moans. Casey's dick twitches a little in his pants, and he glares down at it before realising he looks like an idiot and staring out of the window instead.
He can't stop himself glancing back at Wake as they pull into the town, though. Wake's in a bad way already, panting quietly in between those damn sounds. He's flushed, and his lips are parted except for when he bites down on a moan. So he's at least trying not to make noise. Good. That's a good sign for actually being able to talk to him before this.
Casey turns back to the road, and realises they're pulling into the parking lot outside the Lodge.
"Ready?" Anderson asks him, and Casey nods curtly. As soon as he's out of the car he heads round to Wake's door. Wake barely made it to the car - he's not expecting Wake to be any more capable of walking into the field office.
For a moment, he thinks Wake's going to refuse his offered hand, slap it away. Omega or not, he was famous for his temper before he was ever famous for his disappearance.
But Casey guesses Wake must realise he needs the help, because after a moment Wake takes Casey's hand, lets him guide Wake into the Lodge. Wake presses against Casey, half-leaning on him. Casey grits his teeth, and forces himself to think logically. About the case, not about the omega in pre-heat draped all over him. It helps that Wake is still soaking wet and smells like the lake, underneath the ozone scent of his heat.
"C'mon, Wake," he says gruffly, steering Wake towards Casey's rented room. "Let's get you into something dry first."
"Good idea," Anderson says. Casey had half-forgotten she was there, watching them both with an odd look on her face. "Are you okay with him for a minute if I go find some clothes, Casey?"
"Sure," Casey grunts. Anderson nods and walks away, Casey's not sure where. She'll find clothes for Wake somewhere, though. She's got an uncanny knack for getting hold of whatever they need on a case. Almost supernatural.
Casey shakes away the thought.
It takes a moment to unlock the door to his room, but once it's done he nudges Wake inside before closing the door behind them both.
"Are you gonna pass out in the shower?" he asks, and Wake shakes his head.
"I - no," he says. His voice is low, a little shaky, but he seems coherent enough for the moment.
"Go on, then," Casey says, gesturing to the little ensuite bathroom. "Agent Anderson's finding you something dry to wear."
Wake stares at Casey for a moment, looking vaguely lost. Casey's not sure if it's heat-confusion, or just whatever the hell Wake's been through.
"Shower," Casey repeats, and finally Wake nods and stumbles into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Casey stands there, listening, until he hears the shower turn on.
Then he sits down on the bed and buries his face in his hands, just for a moment.
Fuck.
It's been... a while since he helped an omega through their heat. Even longer since he did it for a case - it's not exactly a common situation. Despite what some more conservative elements like to say, omegas generally don't need an alpha to get them through a heat. It helps, sure, but it's not some kind of biological imperative.
Except in a situation like this. The kind of situation FBI agents are maybe more likely to encounter than your average alpha. When an omega's about to tip into a heat so intense that having an alpha to get them through it is a biological necessity - if the omega in question doesn't want to risk a hell of a lot of pain at best, and death at worst. Casey's heard of one or two cases like that, where the strain was too much for an omega's heart.
Usually, though, it only happens when an omega's heats have been suppressed unsafely for too long. Not through the standard suppressants on the market - those are perfectly safe. No, the cases Casey has heard of - been involved in, a few times - are ones involving illegal drugs, starvation, abuse, and more. The nasty shit, as one of his former partners had once put it.
Wake's been missing for thirteen years. On a typical cycle, that should have been one or two heats a year, maybe even three depending on the omega.
Casey has a feeling that, somehow, he's not had anything like that.
The door opens, and Casey glances up. It's Anderson, of course, with a folded pile of clothes.
"Hey," she says quietly, and comes over to join him. "Everything okay?"
Casey nods. "Just thinking about Wake. Where the hell he's been all this time."
"Somewhere bad, I guess," Anderson says. "He was terrified when we found him. Going into heat right after that can't be helping."
"I'll make it as easy as I can for him," Casey says, "but -"
The shower cuts out, and he stops. He thinks about Wake's wedding ring, gleaming bright on his finger.
The last thing he wants to do is bring up Alice Wake when Alan Wake might overhear him. Though if the next hour or so goes as Casey expects, they might have to have that conversation sooner rather than later.
Fuck, Casey really doesn't want to be the one to tell Wake what happened to his wife.
He stands up, taking the pile of clothes, and raps sharply on the bathroom door.
"Clothes," he calls, and the door opens just enough for Wake to reach through and take the pile. Casey doesn't let himself look. Not when Wake's clearly trying to maintain some semblance of privacy.
Wake steps out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a flannel shirt over a white tshirt and jeans that fit him too damn well. How Anderson guessed his size like that, Casey has no idea.
"We'd like to speak to you in our field office, Mr Wake," Anderson says. Wake blinks at her, but follows docilely enough when she leads him out of Casey's room. Casey brings up the rear, glaring at any other alphas who look even slightly interested. Wake's scent isn't quite as strong as it had been in the car, now that he's clean and wearing fresh clothes, but it's still present. Anyone with a nose to smell it will know he's in pre-heat.
Anderson gets Wake sat down in the field office, and offers him a cup of coffee. Wake takes it. Casey stands to one side. He's not sure what Anderson's game is here, whether she's planning to question Wake now or wait til the heat's done, but he'll follow her lead either way. She's a damn good agent, after all.
"Mr Wake," she starts, voice gentle in a way Casey could never quite manage, "are you aware you're going into heat?"
Wake swallows, his throat bobbing in a way that catches Casey's eye despite himself.
"Yeah," he rasps. "It's - been a while."
Anderson nods, like she didn't expect any other response.
"I think you're going to need support through this one, Mr Wake," she says, and Wake nods, staring down at the table. He's clutching his empty mug like it's a lifeline. "Do you have anyone you'd like us to call?"
There's a moment of quiet. Casey braces himself for Wake to ask for his wife, braces himself to have to explain. God, he hates this.
"No," Wake says very softly. "No. Don't - don't call anyone. It's not safe, there's -" He stops and shakes his head.
Anderson's gaze drifts to the ring on Wake's finger. Casey takes an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee to draw her attention, then shakes his head minutely.
Anderson frowns, but she doesn't press Wake on it. Probably for the best even if it weren't for everything else - Wake's scent is growing stronger again, ozone slowly permeating the room. It won't be long before he's completely lost to it, if Casey is any judge.
He smells good, unfortunately. Casey shifts a little. Despite his dislike for Wake the author, it looks like he's not going to have any trouble knotting Wake the person. He can't help feeling guilty about that, to be honest. It's the sort of thing that should feel like a duty, not a pleasure.
Especially with the way Wake's rubbing his thumb lightly across his wedding band, like he doesn't even realise he's doing it. Fuck.
"If you don't want us to call anyone, is it okay if Agent Casey here helps you out?" Anderson's voice is still gentle, soothing. Damn it, Wake deserves an alpha like her, not one like Casey, who can barely muster up the ability to soothe an omega at the best of times.
And now he knows Wake's scent is getting to him. It's not about deserve, not for either of them.
Wake looks at him, a long, lingering gaze. Then he looks down at his hands. At the ring.
"...Yes." The word is very quiet. It sounds like it's been dragged out of him.
But it's the closest thing to consent they're going to get in a situation this fucked up. Casey nods.
"Gonna get the room ready," he says, making for the door. "You need anything, Wake?"
"I - don't know?" Wake sounds a little helpless. Casey shakes his head, and walks out of the room. Anderson can message him if Wake thinks of anything.
He takes his time clearing away the takeout coffee cups, using the space to calm himself down and think. Wake's not going to be able to think, soon enough, or even control himself. Casey's going to have to do that for both of them.
God, he wishes Alice Wake hadn't - well. Hopefully Wake won't ask for her, even in the middle of his heat. He's probably going to, of course, but Casey can hope.
But the fact that he didn't ask, when Anderson gave him the chance...
In any other situation, Casey would have dismissed Wake's warning about danger as paranoia. A trauma response, maybe.
But for an omega this close to a vicious heat to turn down the chance to have their mate with them... Well. Maybe the danger is all in Wake's head, maybe it isn't. Whatever the truth is, Wake's clearly convinced it's real. And given everything else that's happened, Casey's inclined to believe him.
For right now, though, it doesn't matter. The important thing is getting Wake through his heat. They can figure out the rest after.
Casey retrieves some blankets from under the bed and piles them on top of it. Then he pauses, frowning.
It really has been a while. His ex-wife was a beta, and the omegas he's helped through heats since the divorce didn't have time for anything elaborate. Casey has no idea what else an omega might want.
Well, hopefully Anderson will have some idea, or be willing to grab anything Wake decides he needs mid-heat. Casey takes one more look around the room, then heads back to the field office.
As soon as he steps in, he knows Wake's in heat. He can smell it - the ozone scent of his pre-heat, mingling with - is that ink? Paper? And under it all, a familiar smell, even though Wake's clean and dressed in fresh clothes. Lake water. It was part of Wake's scent, then, not just from being soaked.
If the smell weren't enough, though, the way Wake looks would be. Fuck.
He's still in the chair, but his eyes are closed and his teeth have sunk into his lower lip. Even that can't hold back the little sounds he's making. He's gripping the edge of the chair with both hands in what's a frankly impressive effort not to touch himself, but his hips keep shifting, twitching up into the air.
Anderson's standing beside him, one hand on the back of Wake's neck, talking quietly to him. Casey feels a pang of guilt, then squashes it. He wasn't gone that long - he couldn't have anticipated this.
"Wake," Casey says, and Wake's eyes snap open, fixing on him. His pupils are so dilated Casey can barely see his irises, just a thin ring of ocean blue around the black. He looks at Casey like he wants to eat him.
"How long?" Casey asks Anderson.
"Not too long," she answers, and Wake whimpers. "It came on pretty fast."
Casey nods. "Help me get him to my room?" he asks. He could probably handle Wake himself, but he has no idea how Wake will react to Casey touching him. Better to get Anderson's help.
It turns out to be a good move. Wake manages to stand up with Anderson's help, but as soon as Casey gets within touching distance Wake half-collapses against him, panting desperately against Casey's neck. Casey gets them moving fast after that. The last thing any of them need is for Wake to start grinding against him in the hallway. The moaning is bad enough - Wake's too far gone to hold it back, but not so far gone that he doesn't try to muffle it against Casey's skin. He's shaking, too, and Casey runs a soothing hand through his hair as they make their way down the corridor.
"Call me if you need anything," Anderson says, stopping at the threshold of Casey's room. Casey's already inside with Wake. "I'll come check on you both in a few hours, okay?"
Casey nods.
"Thanks, Anderson," he says. She gives him a brief smile, then closes the door.
And then it's just Casey and a heat-drunk Wake, alone in the room together.
Wake smells distressed, as much as he smells turned on, and Casey grimaces. He's not sure how much of that is because of the situation, and how much is just because Wake's needs aren't being met yet.
"Come on, Wake," he says, guiding Wake to sit on the bed. "Let's take the edge off first."
He doesn't bother with anything fancy, just slips his hand down Wake's pants and takes his cock in hand. Wake sobs at the touch, throwing his head back and rolling his hips into Casey's hand.
"Please," he whines, "please -"
Casey shushes him gently, and the pleas dissolve into moans as Casey strokes Wake's cock, quick and businesslike. There'll be plenty of time for more later - the important thing now is getting Wake off, buying them a few minutes to at least get undressed.
Wake comes quickly, shuddering and pulsing into Casey's hand and his own underwear. Casey maybe should have gotten those off him first, in hindsight - but there really hadn't been time.
Wake slumps backwards, catching himself on his elbows. He stares up at Casey, looking wrecked already.
Fuck, he smells good. Casey's been ignoring it as best he can, but he's hard in his pants, has been almost since he walked back into the field office and found Wake in heat.
This isn't about him, though. This is about Wake.
"Let's get these off you," he says, sliding the flannel shirt off over Wake's shoulders. The tshirt underneath comes next, leaving Wake's top half bare. Casey means to take the rest of his clothes off, but...
Now he's shirtless, Casey can see how damn thin Wake looks. Can see the scars striped across his skin - the kind of scars Casey recognises. You only get scars like that from being knifed. Some that are worse, too. Like someone took a fucking axe to him.
Wake always had a reputation for being a party animal, back in the day. It's not impossible that he got mugged, maybe. Something like that.
Casey already knows it's not that simple.
It doesn't matter right now, not when Wake is shifting under his touch, already getting hard again. Casey tugs his jeans and underwear off, leaving Wake naked on the bed.
Then he takes off his own clothes, hanging them over the back of the chair. When he looks back, Wake has spread his legs and he's teasing at his own hole, free hand ghosting over his half-hard cock. Fuck.
Casey swallows, licks his lips.
Wake's going to need a knot. But Casey already knows that once he's come, it'll take him a while to get hard again, even with an omega in heat to spur him on. Wake's around his age, he thinks, and maybe normally he wouldn't need to worry about keeping up - but with a heat like this, Wake's going to be as needy as an omega half his age.
So Casey needs to control himself, control Wake, and get him off without a knot as many times as he can first. There's only so much that will do - it's being knotted, being filled up, that actually soothes a heat. But it will help, a little.
Casey spares a moment to wish he'd asked Anderson to pick up some toys, embarrassing as it would have been. Then he lowers himself to his knees in front of Wake, gently batting Wake's hands away.
Wake lets out a complaining whine, and Casey ignores it in favour of taking Wake's cock into his mouth. He pins Wake's hips with his hands, too, and not a moment too soon - Wake tries to fuck into his mouth, greedy and wanting, and shudders under Casey's hands when he can't.
He keeps trying, though - probably can't stop himself at this point. Casey keeps him still, setting the pace for both of them. He alternates between taking Wake deep into his throat and swallowing around him, and teasing Wake's cock with his tongue. Casey learns that flicking his tongue against the head makes Wake writhe, letting out sounds that would be begging if Wake were coherent enough.
Wake comes again, quicker than Casey expects. He swallows it for lack of anything else to do, though it's not his favourite thing.
"Please," Wake slurs, craning his head to peer down at Casey between his legs. "Please, I want... fuck me, c'mon..."
Casey considers for a moment. Wake is soaking wet, and Casey can make him come again whilst he stretches him out. Casey doesn't know if it will be enough, but if Wake's already reached the point of begging to be fucked...
"Please," Wake says again, and he sounds close to tears.
"Shh," Casey says, resting one hand on Wake's stomach. He can feel Wake trembling under his hands, overwhelmed and needy. "It's all right, Wake. I'll give you what you need."
He joins Wake on the bed, straddling him. The weight or Casey's scent or both seem to soothe Wake a little.
"I'm going to stretch you open," he tells Wake, "make you come again, and then fuck you. Understand, Wake?"
Wake nods. Casey has no idea how much Wake actually does understand, heat-drunk as he is, but it doesn't matter.
He shifts back - or tries to, anyway. Wake grabs at him, making a pathetic sound.
"Behave," Casey says sharply, tweaking Wake's nipple. Wake shudders and moans, but lets Casey go.
Casey doesn't go far, anyway - just between Wake's legs. He doesn't bother with one finger, guessing that at this point Wake will need more. Judging by the desperate noise that's torn out of Wake's mouth as Casey presses two fingers into him, he was right.
Wake is wet and open for him, taking his fingers easily. Casey adds a third quickly, and explores until he finds Wake's prostate. Then he experiments, figures out what Wake likes. Stroking it gently makes Wake moan and push into Casey's touch, but pressing it makes Wake howl. And, quickly enough, makes Wake come - he's not even hard again yet, and it sounds like it hurts as much as it helps. Casey grimaces. He might have pushed too far there.
It means Wake is limp and pliant, though, when Casey pulls his fingers out and shifts them both to get a better angle. He pauses before sliding his cock in.
"Wake," he says, and Wake looks at him. There's tears streaked down his face, and he looks wrecked. Casey's not sure if it's even in a good way, at this point. Fuck, this situation is a shitshow. "Do you want me to fuck you like this? Or from behind?"
He waits for Wake to process the question, then for Wake to think about it.
"Behind," he mumbles eventually, and Casey nods. Wake's not going to be able to hold himself up, but that's fine.
It takes a moment, but Casey maneuvres them so that they're on their sides, his chest pressed to Wake's back. Easier for both of them than any other position, if Wake doesn't want to look at his face. Means he can give Wake a reacharound with his free hand, too, if Wake needs it - he probably won't with Casey's knot in him, but in case.
He pushes inside Wake slowly, giving Wake time to adjust. He probably doesn't need it, this far into his heat, but it's the decent thing to do. And even if it weren't, Casey himself needs it. Wake's body swallows his cock easily, clenching around his length, and he has to grit his teeth to stop himself coming too soon.
Wake needs him to stay in control, he reminds himself. The reminder of why he's even doing this is cold enough that Casey doesn't feel like he's on the edge of coming any more, even buried balls-deep inside Wake like he is.
When Wake pushes back onto him, Casey starts to move, thrusting slow and easy into Wake's hole. He keeps himself pressed as close to Wake as he can, knowing the skin contact will probably help as well. Wake clenches around him with every thrust, inarticulate moans escaping him. Casey's not entirely sure if he's trying to say something or just incoherent with need. Probably the latter; Casey can't imagine Wake's capable of trying to say anything much right now.
Fuck, Wake feels good. Hot and tight and slick around Casey's cock, the scent of him filling the room with ozone and lakewater, a combination that shouldn't be turning Casey on as much as it is. Every movement, every sound he makes, is the picture-perfect image of a desperate, needy omega, tugging on every one of Casey's baser instincts. His knot's starting to swell already, catching a little on Wake's rim every time Casey fucks back into him.
Wake whines every time it happens, shuddering against Casey like he's on the verge of coming yet again. Casey takes pity on him and reaches around to take hold of Wake's cock, rock hard again and practically dripping with precum.
"Every bit of you's wet for me, Wake," Casey murmurs, unable to help himself. "Gonna come for me again?"
Wake's cock jerks in Casey's hand, and he does, clenching down hard around Casey's dick. Casey hisses, fighting against the urge - the need - to come inside Wake, to knot him, fuck him full of Casey's come, bite him, mark him -
Except Wake's already got a mating bite. Casey can see it from this angle, the distinctive mark, fresh as if it were done yesterday.
Something's not quite right about that, but Casey doesn't have the sense to figure out what right now. The reminder that Wake's married, didn't particularly want Casey in the first place, cools him down a little, lets him get control of himself.
Wake. He's doing this for Wake, not for himself.
Casey keeps stroking Wake's cock until he's almost crying with overstimulation, still rocking into Casey's touch even as he sobs. Then he hooks his chin over Wake's shoulder - better to get rid of any temptation.
"You want my knot, Wake?" he asks, already knowing what the answer will be. "Want me to stretch you open, fuck you full of me?"
Wake moans, nods as best as he can. Good enough. Casey's not expecting coherency at this point.
He lets go of Wake's dick and wraps his hands around Wake's hips instead. He can't resist the temptation to dig his fingers in, hard enough they'll probably leave bruises. Wake doesn't mind, if the moaning is anything to go by.
Then Casey fucks Wake, fast and hard, using his grip on Wake's hips to hold him still. He ignores the noises Wake's making, the way Wake tries to grind back into him - none of it matters. What's important right now is coming, knotting Wake so they can finally start getting through this damn heat.
It doesn't take long. Casey had already been on the edge before he'd seen Wake's mating mark, and it's easy to get there again. His knot swells, his thrusts get sharper, jerkier - and then he comes, harder than he has in fucking years, knot fully swollen inside Wake as his cock pulses. Casey curls himself around Wake on instinct, wrapping Wake up in his own body no matter that Wake's taller than him. It's a damn miracle he doesn't lose himself entirely to instinct and try to bite, mating mark or not.
When he comes back to himself, Wake's making urgent little sounds and trying to rock back onto Casey. He's hard again, fucking hell. If he's this desperate with an alpha helping him, knotting him, Casey doesn't want to think about how hellish this heat would have been for Wake otherwise.
A few strokes and Wake comes. Casey hisses as he tightens around Casey's oversensitive knot, but it seems like this is enough. At least for now.
Wake settles, relaxing slowly into Casey. Casey finds himself running one hand through Wake's hair, a soothing gesture he hadn't actually meant to do.
Like this, it's hard to think of Wake as the hack author who'd caused Casey so much irritation over the years. Hard to think of him as a potential suspect or witness in the murder case. He's just Wake, an omega filled with Casey's knot, relaxing in the lull before the next wave of his heat hits.
Then Wake speaks. His voice is thick with tears - not the good kind, Casey realises with a sickening lurch.
"I miss her so much." The words are soft enough Casey isn't sure he was meant to hear them.
There's no need to wonder who 'her' is, of course. Alice Wake. Who else could it be? Fuck, Casey really, really doesn't want to have to explain that to Wake. Especially not with Wake on his damn knot.
He stays quiet. Wake sniffles, a miserable sound. It's wrong, yanks at every one of Casey's instincts - he's responsible for Wake right now, meant to be taking care of him, and instead Wake's upset. But he doesn't know where to even begin with comfort, not with what he knows. Fuck, Anderson would have been so much better at this.
"She can't..." Wake trails off, shaking his head. "I know she can't help right now. But I wish... I miss her." His voice breaks on the last word.
Does he know? How can he, if he's been missing for thirteen years? When he didn't even seem to know it had been thirteen years?
What would Anderson do right now?
Casey wraps his arms around Wake gingerly. Wake tenses for a moment, then presses closer to Casey. Like he's seeking comfort anywhere he can get it, even if it's not his mate, his wife.
"Fuck," Wake mutters after a while, sounding slightly more composed. "Sorry. I shouldn't..."
"It's fine," Casey says gruffly. Not like there's anything else he could say, after all.
His knot's softening, and Wake pulls away - slowly, as though he'd rather not. He bites off a sound when Casey's dick slips out of him, and Casey shoves down the urge to pull him close again. Wake stands, and looks around for a moment.
"I need a shower," Wake says, and Casey nods.
"You done?" he asks. He doubts it, given the state Wake was in.
Wake snorts.
"Not even close," he says bitterly. "I can handle the rest on my own, Agent, if you're busy."
"Do you want to?" Casey asks, watching Wake closely. If Wake thinks he can ride out the rest of his heat without an alpha - well. Casey thinks it's a bad idea. But at least Wake is coherent now. If he wants to take that risk, Casey can't - won't - stop him. He's not that kind of knothead.
Wake's quiet for a moment. Then he sighs.
"Not really," he admits. Casey nods.
"Got nothing else to do," he says. "Nothing more urgent than this, anyway. If you want me here, I'm here."
Wake nods slowly.
"Want to shower?" he asks abruptly. Casey recognises the invitation for what it is, and nods.
Alan doesn't know what to make of Agent Casey. The real thing, that is, not the character.
He'd never thought Casey was real.
But Casey's words from earlier, and the come trickling down Alan's thigh, make it clear just how real he is.
He's not Alan's Casey, though. Not quite. The Casey of his books would have fucked an omega in need, sure - and then he would have given them the bare minimum of aftercare, kept them at arms' length. This Casey had held Alan close, even when he broke down crying about Alice whilst he was locked on Casey's knot.
Fuck, Alice. Alan swallows and closes his eyes for a moment, then steps into the bathroom before Casey can question it. Where is she? Is she in the Dark Place still, looking for him? Did she get out along with Alan himself? Or worse?
He can't think about that right now. He can't.
He steps into the shower, and Casey glances at him for permission before joining him. The water's hot, sluicing the tackiness of sweat and slick and come from Alan's skin.
He's not expecting Casey to start cleaning him, impersonal but gentle. Maybe he should have been - hadn't he just been thinking, earlier, how different this Casey is to the one Alan wrote?
It feels nice. Alan doesn't remember the last time someone touched him gently, without wanting anything from him. Maybe Tim Breaker, on some miserable night like all the rest in the Dark Place, when Alan stumbled into a saferoom and broke down. But it wasn't like this. Wasn't like being taken care of.
By the time Casey stops, Alan feels like he's half-drunk from the sensation. Or maybe that's his heat coming back with a vengeance. Fuck, Alan hates this. He didn't before, when he knew Alice would take care of him every time, coax him through it. But the Dark Place...
He didn't have many heats there. But the few he had weren't...
Alan shudders, and drags his thoughts away.
"Wake," Casey says. "You doing okay?"
Instead of answering, Alan steps closer to Casey and lets his head tip down so his forehead rests on Casey's shoulder. How is he even supposed to fucking answer a question like that?
When Casey runs his hand through Alan's hair again, Alan can't resist the temptation to mouth at Casey's collarbone, lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth. Casey hisses, and Alan smirks against his skin.
Casey's not Alice. But now that his head's a little clearer, Alan can think past the distress to realise that Alice would never begrudge him this. Not in a heat this bad. She'd want Alan taken care of, just like Casey is doing.
That thought emboldens Alan a little, lets him recognise just how badly he wants. He licks at Casey's skin one more time, then sinks down to his knees.
"Wake?" Casey asks, frowning.
Alan ignores him in favour of his cock, soft against his thigh, the knot just a faint thickness near the base. Casey's not Alice - doesn't smell like her, doesn't look like her. But he's an alpha, and he's kind, and Alan wants, hasn't had anything like this in thirteen years, maybe longer, he doesn't really remember.
Alan licks his way across Casey's body, nipping lightly at his hipbone to hear him curse. Maybe a little in revenge for the marks Alan knows Casey left on him earlier.
He's slipping back into the good kind of heat-haze, now. The kind where he's turned on, needy, wanting, but still feeling like himself, not the desperate creature of before. Alice calls him a brat when he gets like this, but she always smiles as she says it, gives him what he wants. With any luck, Casey will be the same. Because right now, what Alan wants is Casey hard in his mouth, the hot weight of his cock against Alan's tongue, the scent of him inescapable. He smells fucking good, even if he's not Alice.
Casey groans as Alan mouths at the head of his cock.
"Fuck, Wake, are you sure -"
Alan rolls his eyes, and takes in more of Casey's cock. He's only half-hard, but Alan doesn't care. He knows plenty of tricks - there are some Alice loves that he's especially expert in - and he's perfectly happy to spend as long as it takes figuring out what Casey enjoys. And it's not as if he's trying to make Casey come. He's going to save that for when he wants a knot. No, right now Alan just wants to feel him.
Casey's hand settles tentatively on the back of Alan's head, not moving him or pulling his hair, just resting there. Who would have thought the man who inspired Alan's Alex Casey would be so polite? His Casey wouldn't have hesitated, would have tangled his fingers in Alan's hair and taken what he wanted. Alan moans at the thought, and Casey - the real Casey - swears, his fingers catching in Alan's hair for just a moment before he lets go again.
Alan pulls away, and Casey lets him, blinking down. There's water dripping from his hair, his face, and he's leaning forward a little like he's trying to shelter Alan from the still-running shower.
Alan looks up at him, and licks his lips, slow and deliberate. Casey visibly shivers. Alan smiles.
"Pull my hair," he tells Casey. Casey doesn't ask if Alan's sure, only hesitates for a moment before he slides his fingers into Alan's hair. He tightens his grip enough that it sends a bolt of heat straight to Alan's cock, makes him clench around empty air. Fuck, he's so hot, the kind of heat that only an alpha's cock can really soothe. He doesn't know how long he'll be able to tease Casey like this before he gives in to the need to be fucked again.
Better make the most of it, then. Alan swallows down Casey's cock without warning, and he's rewarded by Casey's hand fisting in his hair, tiny pinpricks of pain-pleasure rippling through him. Alan stays there for a few moments, breathing roughly through his nose, nearly overwhelmed by how thoroughly he's immersed in Casey's scent, gunmetal and sandalwood. He can feel Casey hardening steadily against his tongue, down his throat.
For a moment, Alan wonders what it would be like to let an alpha knot his mouth. It's not the first time he's thought of it, but Alice would never agree to it, not without a third person there to monitor things, make sure Alan didn't actually suffocate.
Maybe if Casey...
Alan brushes the thought aside, swallowing down the saliva building in his mouth. Casey's hips jerk against his face, forcing his cock somehow even deeper, and Alan -
It's too much, and he hadn't realised how close he was already. He comes untouched, losing himself in choked moans around Casey's cock, hole clenching down desperately on nothing. He's so empty, he needs -
"Fuck me," he gasps, pulling off Casey's cock.
"Already?" Casey asks, frowning. If Alan had enough thoughts left in his head, he'd be impressed at how quickly Casey bounces back from the dazed arousal of having his cock buried down Alan's throat. All he can think about right now, though, is how much he needs Casey's knot in him again.
Casey's not moving, still standing in the shower frowning at him. Alan hisses through his teeth and catches Casey's wrist, pulling him back into the bedroom.
"Wake," Casey says, "calm down. It's okay, I'm gonna -"
Alan ignores him, dragging him towards the bed.
Then a hand closes tightly around both of his wrists and Casey yanks, knocking Alan off-balance. The next thing he knows he's pressed up against Casey, chest to chest, arms held securely behind his back in Casey's firm grip.
Fuck. Alan can't stop himself grinding hungrily against Casey's body, the casual display of strength - of dominance - taking him from turned on to desperate to come in moments.
"Behave," Casey says sharply. Alan whines, and Casey shakes his head.
"Not gonna get any more sense out of you now, am I," Casey mutters. "Alright. You want me to fill you up again, Wake? Want to come on my knot?"
"Please," Alan gasps. He's so fucking close, even though it won't be anything close to satisfying with his hole empty, he just needs -
Casey slaps his ass with the hand not pinning his wrists, and Alan cries out as he comes, cock pulsing between their bodies.
"You've made a mess, Wake," Casey says, voice low, almost dangerous. "You just couldn't wait, huh?"
Alan shakes his head, senseless with pleasure and need. He feels Casey sigh.
His voice is gentler when he asks, "From behind again? Like before?"
That manages to pierce the haze of need draped over Alan's thoughts. No, that's never been his favourite - earlier, he just missed Alice desperately, but now -
"Wanna see you," he slurs. "Watch you knot me, come on, Casey."
"Somebody's demanding," Casey says, and Alan gives Casey his best pleading look. Casey's whole face softens, and for a moment he looks almost guilty.
Then he steps forward, steering Alan back. When Alan stumbles, Casey picks him up, and that's nearly enough to push him over the edge again if it hadn't been so soon after his last orgasm. Fuck, holding him still was one thing, but Alan's not exactly a small man, and Casey carrying him -
Alan wraps his legs around Casey's waist, trying to grind against Casey's erection. He needs it inside, needs Casey's knot again, filling him, easing the heat.
"I've got you, Wake," Casey soothes him, fingers digging into Alan's hips a little. "Let me take care of you, omega."
Alan's back hits the wall, and he realises what Casey's planning at about the same moment that Casey's cock slides into him, his hole so wet that it goes in easily. Alan tips his head back and pants, overwhelmed in the best fucking way. The way Casey's got him pinned means there's no escape, no matter how Alan writhes, spread open on Casey's thick cock with no option but to take it.
Casey rolls his hips, and Alan's mind blanks out completely. All he can do is shake and moan and fall apart, stretched and filled and overwhelmed and utterly at Casey's mercy. At some point Casey strokes his cock, and Alan keens as he comes, then comes again when Casey fucks into him one last time. Heat fills his insides, his hole spasming around Casey's swollen knot, and he thinks maybe he blacks out for a few minutes.
When he comes back to himself, they're on the bed, Casey's knot still locking them together. Alan can tell already that this lull won't last as long as the previous one did - but at least he's dazed and blissed-out this time, not overcome by sudden misery and longing for Alice.
"Back with me, Wake?"
"Just about." His voice is hoarse. Did he scream? Probably. Alice teased him about gags once or twice, until they tried it and found out they both hated having Alan silent. "Fuck, that was good."
Casey snorts.
"Don't expect a repeat," he says wryly. "I'm too damn old for it. Shouldn't have done it in the first place."
Alan doesn't ask why he did.
It's oddly comfortable, lying there together. With Casey's knot still inside him, Alan feels pleasantly full still. There's so many things they'll have to deal with, once his heat is over - whatever the fuck is going on with Scratch, with Return, whatever the FBI agents blame him for. But it can wait, all of it.
Someone knocks on the door and Alan tenses.
"Casey?" The voice is half-familiar - ah. Saga Anderson. The other FBI agent, the one who'd - who'd what? Alan doesn't quite remember, doesn't want to force himself to remember. Not right now. "Everything okay?"
"We're fine," Casey calls back.
"Mind if I come in?"
Casey glances at Alan. Waiting for permission, he realises.
"Why?" he asks, frowning. He's pretty sure she's not planning to join Casey in fucking him through his heat - she's mated, if he remembers right.
Casey shrugs, and Alan bites down on a whimper at the way Casey's cock shifts inside him.
"Checking we're both good," Casey says. Then he frowns. "Fuck, I should've -" He starts to move, tries to lean over Alan, and Alan cries out, almost sobbing.
"Stay still," he gasps, the stretch of Casey's knot in his hole rapidly pushing towards too much, painful instead of pleasurable as it pulls against him.
"Shit," Casey hisses, dropping immediately back to his place beside Alan. "Sorry, Wake."
Alan shakes his head, pressing his face against Casey's throat and inhaling his scent till he calms down again. The line between good and bad overstimulation is thin, at this point in his heat.
"Neither of us has drunk anything," Casey says quietly. "We need to get some water down you."
"Let Anderson in," Alan says after a moment. "Just pull up a fucking blanket or something first."
"Don't have to tell me twice. Anderson doesn't need to see that shit."
It takes a bit of careful moving, but they manage between them to pull up a cover. They're still locked together, and there's no way Anderson won't be able to tell, but at least there's some privacy.
She's professional, too, when Casey calls her in. She checks Alan's still fine with Casey being there, checks Casey's still willing to fuck Alan through the heat, and then makes both of them eat and drink a little. She turns off the shower, too - Alan grimaces, realising he'd been so desperate to be fucked he'd forgotten all about it. Then she leaves, with a brief, affectionate exchange of scents with Casey.
Not a moment too soon, either. Casey's knot's gone down and Alan can feel his heat rising again. He mouths at Casey's neck, his chest, bites at his skin so that Casey jerks and curses.
"Wake." Alan looks up, distracted for a moment by how serious Casey sounds. When Casey doesn't continue, he makes an irritable sound - why is Casey interrupting him, if it's not important? - and goes back to sucking on Casey's left nipple.
"Wake." This time, Casey twists his hand into Alan's hair and uses the handhold to pull Alan away from him. It works, partly because of how much it turns Alan on. "Are you listening to me?"
Alan blinks slowly at him. Casey sighs.
"Hitting you bad again, huh," he mutters. "I can't get it up again yet, Wake. C'mere, let me..."
Alan lets Casey reposition him, curious enough about where this is going that it temporarily overwhelms the burning need. He ends up straddling Casey's face, close enough he can feel Casey's hot breath on his hole. Fuck. He tries to press down, but Casey holds him still.
"I'm gonna eat you out til I can fuck you again, Wake," Casey tells him, every word sending sparks up his spine. "Then you're going to ride me til we both come. Got it?"
Alan makes a garbled sound, maybe a plea, maybe a yes, he's not sure at this point. Then, finally, Casey lets him sink down and holds him there, pressed against Casey's face. Fuck, his mouth - it feels somehow even hotter than Alan's body, and the way Casey's tongue flicks against him is going to drive him insane.
When Casey presses his tongue in, Alan loses it completely. He grinds against Casey's face, his mouth, desperate for more, for anything. Casey lets him, fucks Alan with his tongue until Alan topples over the edge, then keeps going. He holds Alan in place against him, tongue-fucking him through his orgasm and right into another one before Alan's even gone soft. It's only once Alan's come for a third time, moaning through overwhelmed sobs, that Casey stops, shifting Alan back and onto his chest.
"Alright, Wake?"
Alan can't answer, too overstimulated and too desperate to even think of words, writer or not. Casey waits for him to stop shaking, stroking his trembling thighs gently.
"Gonna ride me?" Casey asks after a while, and Alan remembers through the haze what Casey had said. Fuck, yes. He can't think of anything much better right now. Other than maybe having Alice here, too, but that's not - he can't.
Alan shuffles back, reaching behind himself to find Casey's cock, and guides it inside himself. He means to lower himself slowly, give himself time - but his still-shaking legs give out at just the wrong moment. Or the right one, depending on how you saw it.
He slams down onto Casey's cock with a desperate, strangled cry, one Casey echoes.
"Fuck, Wake," Casey snarls, "how are you still this fucking tight?" Despite the sharpness of his words, one of his hands settles on Alan's hip, solid and reassuring.
Alan can feel himself fluttering around Casey's length, involuntary little twitches he can barely endure. He needs to move, needs Casey to come inside him.
It takes a moment, but he finds enough strength from somewhere to lift himself up, legs quivering with the effort. Then he sinks back down onto Casey's cock, only a little more slowly than before. It's almost unbearable, the kind of overstimulation he would have begged to stop a long time ago if it weren't for his fucking heat. But he can't stop, can't escape the burning need unless Casey's knotting him.
So he keeps moving, fucking himself on Casey's cock. At some point Casey moves, and then he's sitting up, Alan in his lap and both hands cupped around his ass.
"Let me help you," he murmurs, and Alan nods, vision blurred by tears. It's too much at this point, he can't do this on his own. "Shit, Wake. I should have..." He trails off.
A moment later, he starts fucking Alan briskly, hips snapping up into Alan's body. All Alan can do is cling to Casey and let himself be taken, too exhausted to even come again. He rests his head against Casey's shoulder and drifts, only stirring again when Casey finally stills, his come filling Alan and his knot locking it inside.
"How are you doing?" Casey asks after a while. He's stroking Alan's hair again.
Alan mumbles something. He's not sure what. Fuck, he's tired.
Huh.
"Nearly done," he says, the words muffled against Casey's skin. If he's this exhausted, his heat must be drawing to a close. Quicker than he'd expected. It's been a while, though. Maybe his heats have changed.
"Yeah?" Casey doesn't seem to expect an actual response to that, so Alan doesn't give one. "Let's hope so. This... can't be easy for you, Wake."
He sounds guilty, of all things. Alan frowns a little. He doesn't have the energy to think about that right now, though. So he doesn't; just closes his eyes again and lets himself float, secure in Casey's lap, knotted and held close.
Alex Casey has no idea how the hell he's ended up here.
This was meant to be impersonal. Helping Wake through a hellish heat, nothing more. And now Wake's cuddling against him, as though Casey's someone who actually matters to him, not just an FBI agent in the right place at the right time.
He'd wonder if Wake does this with all his heat partners, except he's pretty sure Wake hasn't had many other heat partners. Casey had followed the tabloids before Wake's disappearance - for all the vices they'd reported Wake indulging in, infidelity was never one of them. He and Alice Wake had both been young when they'd gotten together. Wake had probably spent almost every heat in his adult life with his wife.
The thought doesn't help the burgeoning guilt sitting cold and heavy in Casey's gut.
At least it's almost over, if Wake is to be believed. It might not be; this might just be another lull before Wake gets desperate again. Casey sniffs Wake as surreptitiously as he can. The heat scent is starting to fade, enough that Casey suspects Wake's probably right.
It can't have been that long since the heat began, though. Anderson has only checked on them once. If Wake's heats are messed up all round, it would make sense for this one to be shorter than it ought to be - but if that's the case, Wake could end up in heat again sooner than any of them would like. Casey makes a mental note to bring up the possibility of suppressants, if Wake's willing and they can find a doctor who'll sign off on it being safe for Wake. If not, then, well... Casey wouldn't exactly object to helping Wake through another heat, if Wake's agreeable.
Fuck, what the hell is he thinking? Wake's married, mated, even if his mate is - well. Casey has a feeling Wake's not going to want anyone helping him through a heat once he finds out what's happened to Alice Wake. With any luck, Casey won't be the one who has to break the news. Maybe that makes him a coward, but he's always hated that kind of thing.
Casey sighs, and makes himself comfortable. He has a feeling they won't be moving for a while.
Much later, when they've showered and dressed again, and Wake's sitting on the other side of the table in the field office, Casey wonders if he's going to ask about Alice Wake. If he's going to have to explain. There's a moment, when Wake twists the wedding ring on his finger, when Casey is afraid he might.
But the moment passes. Wake answers Anderson's questions, if reluctantly, and Anderson heads out to investigate, leaving Casey and Wake alone in the field office again.
For a moment, Wake looks like he's about to say something. Casey eyes him warily. Whatever it is Wake's thinking, it's probably not a conversation Casey wants to have right now, without Anderson as a buffer.
Then there's gunshots, then everything goes to shit, and the next thing Casey knows Wake's been taken by the FBC, he's been shot in the leg, and Anderson's missing.
Fuck.