Chapter Text
You sat in the back of the helicopter, mind whirring a thousand miles an hour. Lawsell sat across from you. You could feel her eyes on you but you didn’t acknowledge it. Not yet. Is this a good idea? you thought. What were you thinking when you agreed? Did your omega trust in her alpha so much it forgot how shit you’ve done in packs in the past?
You shook your head slightly, meeting her eyes. Her scent, like fresh linen, was lessened by the wind whipping through a window, but still lingered enough to make you feel calmer than you thought you really were. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” you couldn’t help but say.
Laswell gave you a look that said, ‘I know’, before saying, “I know these men, and know you’ll fit in with them. I think you’ll eventually come to trust them as you trust me.”
“I doubt that,” you grumbled. “You’re different, Kate. And I’ve never been part of your pack. I don’t even think I can do what you’re asking of me.” God knew you were no daisy. Comfort was something you got from pillows, not from you. And you’d always been fine with that. Sure, it had caused problems. An omega, an unmated one at that, going solo in the military was nearly unheard of, but it was the only life you could’ve imagined. Pack life wasn’t for you. Never had been.
Laswell’s eyes softened slightly. “I think you can, Skunk. But if you disagree after a while, I’ll pull you back. You can go back to solo ops.”
You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. It was the only reason you went through with it. No commitment to stay, no obligations during heats or ruts, and another thing. “And you’ve told them about-”
“No collars, yes. The captain knows that’s a line for you.”
You scowled, shuffling in your seat, not even wanting to say it, but needing to know. “And what about my…status? They know about that?”
“That won't be a problem, though I've left that up to you to tell them when you're ready.” You couldn’t help but wonder if that would ever happen. Not like I'll be staying long, you thought. Kate sighed, eyes darting to the window before coming back to you. “Should be landing soon.”
You glanced in the direction she had, hand checking your scent patch was still on securely before pulling your scarf higher up your neck.
It was only a few more minutes before you landed on the helipad, four men standing a small distance away from it. Laswell stepped out first, and you followed behind her, her confident movements bringing you to the group quicker than you’d have liked. Their scents reached you before your feet did them. Mostly calm, you noticed, but with some animosity there, like one of them was unhappy about this. That makes two of us, you thought to yourself, though you hoped it didn’t become an issue. Kate said I’ll fit in, but hopefully not like that.
“Task Force 141, this is Skunk. Combat experience under me. Skunk, this is the 141 pack,” she said once she was right in front of them, an arm gesturing towards the four men before you.
As the one furthest to the right stepped forward, you took note of his broad chest and the mutton chops framing his jaw. He reached a hand out, and you took it, looking into his eyes, brows furrowing and then relaxing as he gave you a nod, as if finished with his inspection. “I’m Price, captain of the 141, and pack alpha. It’s good to meet you.”
“Likewise,” you say between pursed lips, keeping your tone even. You managed a small, strained smile. His scent was clean, like Kate’s, but where hers was like fresh linen, his was more like ozone, the air before a lightning strike.
“And I’m Gaz,” the younger man next to Price said, voice soft, stepping forward as Price moved back. “It’s good to meet you.” His hand was as warm as his expression as he shook your hand, head tilted as his eyes looked you over quickly.
“You too, Gaz,” you said, giving his hand one squeeze before letting go. His scent was of pine, with an undertone that was almost sweet. You rarely smelled that in an alpha; it would’ve put you at ease if you couldn’t still smell the tension coming from the one on the far left of you, though there was someone else who got there first.
He didn’t even wait for Gaz to step back before he marched forward, a grin on his face as he ran a hand through his mohawk. “I’m Soap. Been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Really?” was all you could say.
He chuckled, stepping closer to pat you on the back making your muscles tighten at the suddenness, then ambled back. “Of course! Good to have you.” He moved back into the line the four had put themselves into.
The last, wearing a balaclava with a skull stitched on the front, you didn’t want to approach, and he clearly didn’t want to approach you. He looked at you more like an enemy than a pack member, eyes narrowed and piercing. He stood still, arms crossed, and you couldn’t help but bristle, indignation coming in hot. You couldn’t understand why he was acting like that to you when he and his team probably had more choice in the matter than you did. He reminded you of- no. Stop. Calm down.
So much for fitting in, huh. You turned to look at Kate, brow raised, hoping your eyes tell her what you weren’t saying out loud, then at the rest of the pack, who still watched. The silence was thick as you all waited for something to happen. Eventually, you sighed. You didn’t agree to deal with that five minutes in. You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m going inside,” you called out, walking past the pack and Kate through the doors to enter the facility as you rolled your shoulders. So glad I wore a scent patch, that could’ve been awkward.
The Task Force and Laswell watched you walk away, then Laswell turned to face the four men. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Well that went well, dinnae it?” Soap joked. Ghost huffed, crossed arms tightening.
“He'll take a while to adjust. So long as you're good to him, he'll be good to you,” said Laswell. She looked at her watch. “I assume you read through the info I gave you?”
“We have,” Price confirmed, nodding. “S.A.S member himself, ex-rogue.”
“That's got to be a big change for him, no?” asked Gaz.
“It is,” said Laswell, “but he'll be fine. Thought it best I put him with my other problem children.”
“Shouldn't someone go after him?” Soap asked, pointing to the doors.
“No, give him space for now. He's probably found the smoking area anyway. Just meet him inside.” With that, she headed back to the helicopter.
Once you got through the facility, the first thing you did was find a smoking area. You pulled out your vape and took a drag, the heavy vapour settling your nerves a bit. You weren’t sure whether to be pissed or sympathetic. That man obviously didn't want you here, and you got it.
And, fuck, you weren’t planning on acting an ass to them because of it, but making his scent so prominent, as if warding you away? Too much. Too far to act like you were okay with this when you wished you could stay rogue.
Still, the others didn't seem so bad, even if you're weren’t going to trust them yet. Remember, Kate asked for this, and I’m doing it on my terms, you told yourself, though my preferred terms would've been to keep working alone.
After a couple minutes, you put your vape back in your pocket and walked through the doors. You soon reached the corridor you had passed to get outside on the ground floor, and found the 141 waiting for you. Sighing, you approached. Price met you halfway, hand outstretched. “Here's your pass for restricted areas.” You took it from him. “We’ll give you a short tour, then take you to your room to settle down.” At your nod, he turned, calling out a “follow me” as he and the rest of the 141 walked deeper into the base, you a few steps behind. They showed you the cafeteria, the training rooms, sparring area, shower facilities. Then they took you to a separate corridor, slightly narrower than the other ones. Price opened a door and you all lined up by the wall, the alphas letting you peek in. The room was largely undecorated and standard, an old sofa in front of a TV, a table with multiple chairs around it, and cooking facilities. “This is our rec room. Only our Task Force is allowed to use it.”
You walked past the rec room and further down the hallway where there were five doors. Your nose picked out faint smells coming from each one, though you passed all of them to get to the final one. “This is your room,” Price said as he opened the door. It was bigger than your last room, though considering you rarely slept there, always out on a mission, it hadn’t seen much use. Solo operatives often ended up travelling much more than packs, simply because you could be used to fill in positions with less notice, not needing to worry about the dynamics of the pack you left behind. A slightly larger than single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, some shelves, and a safe were in the room.
You walked towards it, turning round to face the pack in the doorway. “Thank you for the tour,” you said, voice stumbling as you dragged up what you were supposed to say in your mind.
Price nodded, giving you a small smile. Gaz said softly, “you're welcome”. Soap tilted his head, an easy smile on his lips. Ghost didn't even react, though you felt his eyes on you. You didn't turn away from his gaze, jaw clenching. The tension from the helipad almost returned before Soap nudged Ghost with an elbow. With a final nod from Price, they all turned and left you to settle in.
You entered the room proper, giving it another once over before you spotted your bags, brought over before you arrived. You unpacked, movements efficient after countless times moving somewhere new. You kept only a dozen personal items, one of them you were unable to put away immediately as you took it out of your duffel bag, halting your rhythm. A scrap of fabric from an old blanket, frayed at the edges from age, packaged so the scent on it didn't fade too much. You stared at it blankly, brought your nose to the package, sniffing softly, feeling yourself calm at the scent despite the bitterness that washed over you like an ice bath. For a traitorous second your omega wanted you to make a nest in your new space, but the desire faded just as quickly as it came, unsure if the space would ever become a home. Just as it had been for the past twelve years. Would it count as your first one? you wondered. You moved to your desk, bringing your laptop with you and opening it up to complete some files. You may have been a shit omega, but you were a good soldier, you thought as you settled down to get some work done.
Some hours passed, the light from your small window fading to orange, when there was a knock on your door. “London boy! Dinner is ready!” you heard coming from the other side. Soap. After talking a moment to collect yourself and stand, stretching after being hunched over the desk, you opened the door. Soap smiled wide as he saw you, stepping a little to the side. “Join me?”
“Alright,” you told him, stepping out and following him back to the rec room. On your way there you took a good look at him. He was handsome, no doubt. Just because you didn't want to join a pack didn't mean you had to lie. The mischievous glint in his eye just added to his charm. He caught your eye mid-examination, smirking when he saw you not looking away, acknowledging he caught you with a shrug, before you focused back on getting dinner.
Soon you reached the rec room, Price and Ghost sitting at the table while Gaz plated out food. It looked like pasta with sauce. Soap waltzed over to the seat beside Ghost, saying “Brought him out” in a cheery voice, while you trailed behind. As you neared the table too, there it was again. That scent, gunpowder and smoke, potent in a way that screamed ‘get back’. Ghost watched you stand by the table, fork in hand. He used his free hand to pull down the mask that had been rolled up enough to expose his mouth. You gritted your teeth, about to ask what his problem was, when a sharp look from Price made him pull back the animosity completely. Its sudden absence almost felt like the air thinned, and once again you were jealous of the way alphas had much more control over their scents than you. For a second, you thought about sitting down with them. You didn't want them to think you were intimidated by that display, but fuck if you were going to try and socialise when not everyone wanted you to. You wouldn't push for acceptance. You didn't need it.
You said a quick thank you to Gaz as he handed you a plate. You walked towards the sofa and plopped yourself down, ignoring the sigh from the table now behind you. Their conversation provided a background you could almost describe as calm. You dug into your meal. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was alright. Something cooked personally instead of for an entire base, like in the cafeteria, was always nice. You glanced over at the rec room’s cooking facilities, some recipes already coming to mind. Maybe that was why you didn't realise your name was being called.
“Skunk?”
You turned your head towards the sound. It was quiet, everyone looking at you and for a second your muscles bunched, waiting for an attack that never came. Seeing Gaz watch you expectantly, you cleared your throat, adjusting yourself in your spot on the sofa. “Yeah?”
He smiled. “That's an interesting callsign…” Your chest tightened. You knew it'd come up, but had hoped for more time.
Soap chuckled, “Aye, definitely an odd one. So what's the story behind it?”
You didn't respond for a good while, the silence becoming awkward as you thought of how much to say, Soap and Gaz glancing at each other, Ghost’s eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. You sighed. “People say I stink. My scent can sort of…explode sometimes.”
Price’s eyebrows raised. “What do you mean, explode?”
“You know how people's scents get stronger with emotions?” The group at the table, except Ghost, nodded. “Well, mine's particularly bad compared to other omegas, at least. Can hurt people.”
“Is that why you're wearing scent patches?” Soap asked after a beat.
They were all watching you, and you knew these were fair questions, but your stomach churned anyway. You said a curt, “Yes” and turned back around, scarfing the food down as if you had a mission to go to. Which you did, only the mission was getting out of there as soon as possible.
But the questions weren't over. Price added, “I heard you were rogue before this.”
You were glad you're still eating, since it you a moment to relax before responding. You clenched and unclenched the muscles in your legs to stop them from bouncing. “I was.” You knew how most saw rogues, those who weren't in packs, and didn't care for hearing it. Especially their thoughts on rogue omegas.
“For how long?” came his quick reply.
This isn't an interrogation, calm down. You're fine. “Twelve years.”
Soap whistled, leaning back in his seat. You noticed Ghost’s hand near his thigh, but pushed it from your mind. “A long time to be alone.”
You wanted to snap back, tell him that he knew nothing about it, that you didn't need a pack and never would, but even in your ire you could see how childish that sounded. Instead, you simply said, “It is.”
“It couldn't imagine being outside of a pack,” Gaz murmured, lips pursed into a frown.
“And I couldn't imagine being in one, but here we are,” you said, brow raised. He smiled, seemingly not offended by the comment. Some of the tension left your shoulders.
You finished the last bites of food and stood up, clearing your plate and putting it in the sink. You idly thought that a good omega would probably offer to wash up, at least, then scrunched up your nose and sneered at the faucet. With a deep breath, you turned around, face neutral once more. “I'm going to bed,” you announced, before turning to Gaz. “Thanks for the food, man.”
His expression brightened at your words. “You're welcome.”
“Meet in my office at 0700 tomorrow for formal introductions,” said Price, and you nodded curtly.
You looked over them all before walking out, murmuring a “goodnight” over your shoulder.
You headed straight for your room, quickly taking off your clothes and scent patches before getting under the covers. You breathed a sigh of relief at smelling your scent in the duvet sheets after a few minutes. You wore scent patches more than anyone you'd known, both because of the risk of losing control, and of the wrong people finding out you’re an omega.
Thoughts drifting to Laswell, you almost wondered if she's crazy, sending you there over any other omega. One who wasn't rogue, or hated collars. One who wanted to be there.
She’s the only alpha I trust. Trust her choice on this, you told yourself. Sure, she often sent you out to do batshit stuff, but you were still alive, weren't you? You'll survive this.
It's with those thoughts that you drifted off to sleep.