willing to give myself away

by sarsgon

Summary:

When John was a kid he didn’t care about excelling, as alphas did; he only wanted to be capable enough to help others. He just needed to be smart enough, fast enough, or even strong enough.

John was always sure of who he was, even before he knew the word for it.

——

Or: A story about John living as an omega but also not living as one.

Notes:

I can’t get John Walker out of my head, so yeah, this is what happened. Someone free me.

Actually I wanted to write omega John smut with the thunderbolts but then I started to think about the backstory and ended up writing 15k words about it. So here it is

Brace yourselves, it will be angsty.

 

(Tbh I have no idea if I did a good representation of Lemar
I sooo need to re watch TFATWS, I’m going off vibes only)

Btw, my first language is not English and I wrote this on my phone. Sorry for the shit grammar.

Song: Vienna by Billy Joel

Chapter 1

John wasn’t embarrassed to be an omega, never had been. Not even as a kid.

When all the cool and badass main characters were strong alphas, he still admired the caring and nurturing omega sidekicks. People who drew their strength from a place of gentleness and kindness were truly inspiring, to say the least. John could see himself becoming someone like that one day.

At the time, John was already bigger than all the other kids, and according to the adults in his life, he also exhibited many “traits” commonly found in alphas, such as leadership, proactive behavior, and bravery. But John didn’t care about excelling, as most alphas did; he only wanted to be capable enough to help others.

John just needed to be smart enough, fast enough, or even strong enough for his mom and friends. He liked feeling useful, and he felt proud whenever he did a good deed. Plus, he loved seeing people being happy and content in his presence.

John was always sure of who he was, even before he knew the word for it.

When he eventually learned what being an omega meant, he was scared about all the biology and physical implications, but after that initial fear, the sense of belonging came through. It felt like a puzzle piece that fitted just right. In that moment, to John, it was as clear as day: he was an omega. He wanted to be caring, nurturing, and just be someone reliable. For a child like John, who didn’t know much, being an omega sounded great.

——

When he reached an appropriate age, John got tested for his subgender. He could remember every waking moment of the day when the result came in. It was a great day. His mom had just gotten her paycheck, so she was extra cheery, swinging her hips side to side to an ABBA song, telling John she was going to buy him so much ice cream he was going to get sick. She always said that whenever she got a little bit of extra money.

John was a teenager at this point (barely), and he already understood things he didn’t before. Like how tight the money was around the house. He wanted to tell his mom she didn’t need to buy him anything, and to save the money for more important things, but he never had the heart to. So instead, he settled every time for buying the smallest and cheapest ice cream, just to see the accomplished smile on his mom’s face.

On that particular day, there wasn’t an accomplished smile, nor ice cream. John could tell his mom was disappointed when she found out he was an omega, but pretended not to be. She just gave him a big hug, ruffled his hair, and went to her room, saying she had a headache. But their house was small, and even if Dancing Queen was playing loudly, he could still hear the muffled sounds of crying.

After that initial shock, she quickly made a plan for John in her head: to not stand out. That was the way betas operated in the world. It worked for her, so why wouldn’t it work for her baby boy? And that’s probably when the seeds of how John’s future would look started to grow.

It was her idea to keep his status as an omega more private. (She would never say the words lie or hide; she always used “private”) After all, people weren’t obligated to disclose their secondary gender anymore, as a result of the anti-omega discrimination movement that started just before John was born. So that’s how, when he was 14, he began his rigorous routine to look and smell as neutral as possible. Even before his pheromone glands fully developed, his neck was already covered in neutralizing patches. He wasn’t sure what his smell was like, but he liked to pretend it was similar to his mom's. He obviously knew that wasn’t the case, because an omega couldn’t have the scent of a beta. (he loved her faint natural forest smell combined with her regular flowery perfume.)

Of course, his mom never forced him to do anything; she always asked about his opinion on things every step of the way. But just like with the ice cream, he didn’t have to heart to say no to her. So he never did.

The  patches and the intense hygienic protocol, weren’t bad at all, after all, John always felt comfort in structure and duty. He felt accomplished in getting all those important boxes checked throughout his day, and if it made his mom feel more at ease, all the better. More at ease about what? What difference did it make if people on the street could tell if he was an omega or not? At the time, John wasn’t sure. He was naive and sheltered. But he had to learn the hard way.

------

In his sophomore year they had to move to the city because of a job opportunity his mom got. The prospect of not living paycheck to paycheck was relieving to say the least, but leaving everything and everyone he had ever known was a lot. The word bittersweet wasn’t enough. The fact that city people were ruthless wasn’t making it easier for him, especially the kids in his new school. Of course, bullies had always existed everywhere, small town or big city, it didn’t matter. But it was the first time in his life that John witnessed things that shook him to his core.

On his first day, a kid approached him who was textbook alpha. Loud, proud, and with a need to tell people what to do. And his musky, pungent scent confirmed his theory. After all, it wasn’t strange for teenagers not to use patches, if that’s what they chose to.

When this boy invited John to lunch to hang out with his friends, he wasn’t particularly excited. The alpha was annoying to say the least, always trying to one-up John in everything and cutting him off every chance he got. But it was better than being alone, he thought. He was sorely mistaken.

When he was introduced to the other guys, he quickly realized they were all alphas or at least they looked and acted like it. Even though there were a couple of betas present, it was quite obvious there was a chain of command, and those guys weren’t very high. John went really quiet when he realized all these guys probably didn’t peg him for an omega. It wouldn’t be strange. John was the tallest of them all, and he didn’t particularly shy away from eye contact, both very alpha-like things. It was painfully obvious they had already assumed he was something he wasn’t, especially with the way the betas were suddenly deferring to him, even though they barely knew him. John was thinking about how he could casually mention he wasn’t an alpha when the ordeal started.

A group of people appeared from the end of the hallway, approaching cautiously when they spotted them. That’s when the alphas next to John elbowed each other with a diabolical smile on their faces. The shouting began, and at first, John was confused because he couldn't comprehend how someone could say such vile things to other kids, totally unprovoked. The group trying to pass by with their heads down was stopped by the alphas, and then the grabbing, pulling, and touching started. John was frozen in his place with a disgusting feeling in his stomach and chills feeling like pins in his body. That physical abuse wasn’t quite as sudden as a punch, but equally violent and, in a way, more degrading. Alphas and betas were whispering “filthy” and “slutty” in that hallway like those words were adjacent to the word omega and it was impossible to separate them. And suddenly everything clicked in John’s brain. The reason these people were being targeted.

When the kid who initially invited him to hang out turned to John and egged him on to “join in on the fun”, John saw red. He didn’t remember much of the fight. According to the group of omegas, John was like a beast, fighting all of them at once. He couldn’t possibly win against 6 people, but no matter how much they punched and kicked him to the ground, John always stood back up. Apparently, that freaked them out so much that they ended up running away. That story made sense, given John’s dislocated arm and the bruises covering all his body. Before that day, John had never punched anyone. Actually, he never thought he would ever inflict pain on another human being willingly.

So that’s how John understood two things: what his mom was so worried about all this time, and how much people only saw what they wanted to see.

After that, John became the most “scariest alpha” in school. John wasn’t trying to pretend he was an alpha, but out of the blue, he was the ‘Most dominant’ one at school. Those kids he fought were the ones who gave him that reputation. In their minds, it was impossible for “something less than an alpha” to have the balls to stand up to them. What a bunch of bullshit, John thought.

John didn’t have friends he could tell the truth about his identity anyway. Alphas insulted him behind his back but were too scared to stand up to him, omegas admired him but still were too intimidated to approach him, and of course, betas just wanted to not be involved in all the drama.

John didn’t care at that point. He just let people think what they wanted to think of him, mostly because it was annoying to explain himself. But as time went on, he realized just how easy navigating the world “as an alpha” was, especially when he compared it to the treatment his fellow omegas received. John tried to do what he could with this new fake privilege he acquired, and he helped other omegas and even betas as much as he could. That year, he ended up getting into so many fights, his mom wanted him to transfer, but he talked her out of it multiple times. He wasn’t done with all those motherfuckers who still laughed and pushed omegas around.

At the end of his sophomore year, snarling and growling for dominance was something he mimicked perfectly, even if he didn’t have the biological need or the instincts for it. That was the only language violent alphas understood, so he needed to be fluent. John went a step further and even pretended like he was going to bite their glands off just for shits and giggles. No alpha ratted him out anyway, cuz no one wanted to admit how they ended up defusing the fight. The only way John would stand down from a fight was if they bared their necks in submission. No alpha would ever admit they were another one’s bitch. John understood that concept in theory, but he just didn’t relate to the feeling. Because at the end of the day, submission, dominance, baring teeth, and throwing pheromones at each other’s faces did nothing for John. As an omega, he thought he would be affected, maybe lean into submission, but he didn’t. Probably his medication and the fact that he hadn’t fully presented yet made him insensitive to such things. No reaction, no feelings, no meaning. John gained nothing from such acts, but still forced cruel alphas to do them. John wanted to teach them a lesson or two on humiliation.

He missed the time when he thought kindness was the best strength, though. He still believed in it. In a way. But now he knew how violence was such an effective strength. Precise like a sharp knife. It would get you results every time.

 

———-

It was the beginning of junior year when the rhythm of his life changed.

John was sitting on the grass during his free period when a football rolled close to his feet. He looked up, and that’s when he first saw him, shouting and waving his arms, signaling for him to throw the ball back at him. So he did. The ball flew farther than that guy expected. He gasped and shouted as he ran, trying to catch it, but still failed. John thought that was the end of that interaction, but he was surprised when the guy came running back, ball in hand.

“That was amazing,” he said, still a little breathless. “You got a crazy good arm, you play?”

John thought about the time his dad taught him how to throw a football. Pretty much the only thing he learned from him before he ditched them. John kept practicing so he could surprise him. He never saw him again, though.

“No, not really.”

He shrugged and moved to walk away. It had been a long time since John spoke to someone his age without having some pushing and punching involved, so he was a little anxious. Instead of taking the hint, the guy started walking next to him.

“Are you kidding me?” He huffed, almost offended. “And you are that good?”

“Maybe I’m not that good and you just suck,” John quipped and immediately regretted it. But when he heard a big laugh in return, he sighed in relief.

“What's your name, big guy?”

“John.”

“Lemar.” He offered his hand out, and John hesitated just a second before he shook it.

“Listen, John, trials are next week after school. You should come.”

John shifted from one foot to the other. He probably didn’t know who John was. That was the only logical explanation. The ‘problematic’ and ‘violent’ John wasn’t exactly team material.

“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” he mumbled and felt awkward about not explaining himself more, but also didn’t want to go into all his personal history.

“Why?”

John didn’t answer.

“Oh,” Lemar uttered as if he had just remembered something. “Because of the whole you beating people up thing?”

John was surprised not because he knew, but because of how nonchalant he was about it. Lemar raised both of his hands into fists and started mimicking a fight, with sound effects and everything. John was too stunned to speak.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ve known those assholes since elementary. Deserved for sure!” He gave John a thumbs-up as a sign of approval.

“You…” John started, but his voice broke out into an incredulous laugh. “Damn right it was deserved.”

“Forget about that. Now focus. I want your blond ass on the field that day, on time. Less kicking ass and more throwing balls, how about it?” He slapped him in the back and walked away, pointing at John and then at his own arm. “Don’t forget that badass arm!”

John wasn’t interested. Or that's what he told himself all week. When the day arrived, he couldn’t stop himself from going. He ended up doing the trials and making it into the team. It was surprising how much he enjoyed it from the very first time he tried it. Playing provided a similar adrenaline to fighting (not that he enjoyed fighting but it was what he was used to), but in a controlled environment where everyone knew the rules and instead of being pissed off because you bested them, they complimented you or they asked for tips on getting better. It was aggression combined with camaraderie. He didn’t know how much he needed the last one.

Lemar came running and hugged him like they had been friends all their lives when they announced he would be on the team. John, riding the high of everything, ended up reciprocating the hug with the same energy. Both of them were jumping like idiots in the middle of the field.

And for the first time in a year, John felt like he could breathe.

Chapter 2

Summary:

John and Lemar have a heartfelt moment, and then John gets to meet someone new.

Notes:

Hope you guys like it

Song:

So high school by Taylor Swift (Of course)

Junior year flew by, and John was happy about how things were going. Instead of fighting, he spent most of his time hanging out with Lemar or playing football. The guys who used to cause trouble stopped with their bullshit whenever they found out John was on the team. Dealing with him was one thing, but the fear of angering a whole group of players was another.
His team members were all nice to John, friendly even. John believed he was popular among them because he was such a good damn player. He was quick on his feet and smart on his plays. So naturally, he gained everyone’s respect.

But still, the only person he really bonded with was Lemar.

They would often visit each other’s houses after school and even crash sometimes. John’s mom loved Lemar; she thought he was so silly and funny. Lemar’s parents were also super kind, a little more serious than John expected, given Lemar’s personality. But that didn’t matter; they both treated John like he was part of the family, inviting him to dinner and family outings. John wasn’t good with words, but he always felt moved by the casual familiarity they treated him with. Both John and Lemar didn’t have siblings, but they both understood the concept thanks to the other.

———

John thought he knew pretty much everything about Lemar, but he was wrong.

“Hey, what is your mom cooking today?” John nudged Lemar with his shoulder as they were walking back home.

“Dunno’” Lemar mumbled a little absent-minded. “Yours?”

“No cooking today, she is busy working. Plus, she hasn’t been feeling great. Pretty much the menu will be some delicious canned food.” John scrunched his nose at the idea. “Can I go eat at yours?”

“Maybe today you’ll have to stick to your delicious canned food,” Lemar tried to laugh. It came out forced.

John stopped in his tracks and stared at him for a second. Lemar stared back.

“What?”

“What?” John imitated his tone and then pushed him with not too much force. “What is it with you?”

“Nothin’,” he said a bit too quickly, and Lemar knew it. His ears went red, feeling caught in a lie.

“Dude, common.”

And apparently, those were the magic words to unlock the secret. Lemar grabbed John to a distant corner as he looked both sides of the street.

“Remember how I had been feeling weird and off these two past weeks?” He whispered. John nodded slowly, inching closer. “Well, it’s that. That… It’s finally happening.”

John didn’t understand. He blinked a couple of times.
“You know what I mean, right?” He hissed this time. “That! The big thing is happening.”

“Oh, right. The big thing,” John repeated.

“Exactly, I knew you’d get it.”

A moment of silence. John looked down at his shoes and then at the sky.

“You didn't get it, did you?”

“No, no. I get it.”

“Ok, what is it?”

John made a face. “College?”

“Oh, my god,” he groaned.

“Sorry for thinking about your future, man.” John raised his hands in defeat.

Lemar rolled his eyes as he continued to walk.

“Rut, John. That’s what I meant. As in my first rut is happening soon.”

John walked slowly behind him. “Oh, right, rut.”

“Yeah, the doctors said that everything indicates that it will be short and easy because…” Lemar was saying words, but John wasn’t listening anymore. He eventually stayed still.

“You are an alpha?” John mumbled the question before he could stop himself.

Lemar turned around quickly, his mouth opened, incredulous. “You didn’t know?”

He shook his head, out of words. Truth be told, John never associated any secondary gender with him. To John Lemar was just Lemar.

“How is it possible that you didn’t know?!” Lemar shouted without raising his voice. More like an angry whisper.

“You never said so!” John defended himself. “Plus, you always wear patches and your personality…”

Lemar raised a hand to shut him up. “Don’t go there, buddy.”

“Sorry, didn't mean it like that. All I’m saying is you’re such an easy-going guy…”

“And alphas aren’t supposed to be?” Lemar arched his eyebrow. He sighed when he didn’t get an answer. “Listen, not everybody can be a ‘bow down or I’ll rip your throat with my bare teeth’ alpha like you, my guy.”

John sucked all the air in.

An Alpha like him. His lips were in a flat line before he exhaled a heavy breath.

“Well, I’m not that kind of alpha either. Actually, I’m no alpha at all.”

“What?”

“I’m an omega.” That was the first time he said those words out loud. To anyone. It was strange how he felt only peace when he said it. No nervousness, no fear. Just the relief that comes with honesty.

Lemar stared at him and then chuckled. His smile dropped when he saw the earnestness in John’s face. He staggered awkwardly, like the news had made him lose his footing.

Lemar inhaled and stepped forward. For a second, John thought he was going for a hug, but he didn’t. He just inched closer.

“I’m sorry for making assumptions. I shouldn’t have.” Lemar raised his hand and touched his chest, the part where his heart was, as he apologized.

John expected disbelief, jokes, curiosity, maybe even teasing, but not this. His eyes filled, and John sniffed the tears away.

“Then I guess I’m sorry too…” John looked up to the sky to find the words, but he was still a little shaken. “I’m sorry for not assuming you were an alpha?”

Lemar's weighted expression eased into a big smile.

“Oh, yeah that was super shitty of you. Not cool.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment.

John huffed and rolled his eyes. He continued to walk, leaving Lemar behind. Frankly, he just wanted a second to get himself back together.

“And now you walk off on me? I fear this is alpha discrimination.”

John gave him the finger.

Nothing changed between them after that. Only the fact that John started to carry patches for alphas around, just in case Lemar needed one.

——

John met Olivia through Lemar the summer before their senior year started. Lemar and Olivia were friends from middle school. But with the start of freshman year, her parents decided to enroll her in an all-beta school, separating the two of them. They remained very close friends, though.

So when Lemar’s parents threw a cookout for his 18th birthday, of course, she was invited. It was during that occasion when Lemar introduced them, and it was weird, especially when Lemar left them alone to greet his cousins. John didn’t mind the silence; he could do silence well enough, but he could tell she was sizing him up, and those dark brown eyes made him nervous. Or maybe it was the fact that he thought they were pretty that made him feel anxious. He never really looked at people that way, so he pretended like that feeling wasn’t there. He stole glances a few times because he couldn’t help himself.

“So, John?” She muttered just when John thought the conversation was dead.

“Yes?” He bit back the urge to say ma’am. His cheeks redden a little at how eager he sounded.

“I heard you want to be captain of the football team. Congratulations on being state champions, by the way. That game last year? That was something.”

“Oh, thanks.” Silence again.

John wanted to ask a lot. ‘Were you there?’ ‘Did you see me?’ ‘What did you think of my throws?’ ‘What do you like to do in your free time?’ ‘Are you always like… that pretty?’ But John lost his momentum and didn’t.

Olivia nodded awkwardly and tried to turn away.

John didn’t like that, so he cleared his voice and spoke a little too loudly. “I'm only going to do it because of Lemar, honestly. He was the one who said I would be great for the role. So in return, I’m going to force him to be my co-captain.”

Another nod, she looked a little uninterested.

“I’m talking about being the captain of the team,” he clarified.

“Right,” she mumbled.

John looked at her and took a guess.

“But you… But you already knew that, right?” For the first time, she looked at him with those big, brown, surprised eyes with genuine interest. John was more than pleased. “Because I know Lemar tells you pretty much everything.”

She laughed, and John could see how everything in her body Language said she wasn’t on the defensive anymore. “He does. More than he should if I’m being honest. Like, for example, tell me why I know about you getting your driver's license? Congrats, by the way. It was long overdue.”

“That… I- “He was surprised and laughed when he couldn’t find words. “Thanks. That means a lot. I guess Lemar also told you about my long history of bad driving?”

“In detail,” she mouthed the words as if John and she were sharing an embarrassing secret. Maybe they were, but embarrassment wasn’t exactly what John was feeling.

John hesitated just for a second as he inhaled deeply and took a step closer to her. He straightened his back as he rolled his shoulders.

“Maybe, Uhmm… maybe I could drive you around for you to check out my driving?” He scratched the back of his ear as soon as he said. He didn’t sound as smooth as he intended.

She shrugged casually. “Sure, as long as you promise I’m going to make it out alive.”

“Really?” He couldn't help the smile on his face, and he cleared his throat because his voice definitely came out weird. “I mean, yeah, I promise. I’m not that bad.”

“We will see. We will see.”

He didn’t have the chance to speak to Olivia for the rest of the evening. But his eyes never stopped searching for her. When the party started to dial down, the only people left were Lemar’s parents, a few of his cousins, Olivia, and John.

“Olivia, sweetheart, are you going to need a ride back home?” Lemar’s mom asked with a sweet voice. “You know I don’t mind.”

“Oh, that is very kind of you.” Her eyes looked for John’s, and then she pointed towards him. “This guy over here is giving me a ride.”

The blonde fixed his posture when she mentioned him. He wanted to say, ‘Yes, I am. ’

“That’s great!” Lemar beamed. He looked at Olivia as he raised a finger. “One quick question, do you have life insurance?”

John faked a laugh as he stepped closer towards Lemar, close enough to intimidate. He lowered his voice for the dramatics, but there was no bite to his tone when he said, “Oh, you are the one who is going to need that life insurance.”

Lemar straight up laughed in his face. John was definitely losing his touch.

After they said goodbye and left, John got all up on his head and didn’t manage to keep the conversation going for too long. Olivia didn't seem to mind the silence, though. When he dropped her off, he told her to wait in the car as he got out, ran around the vehicle, and opened her door for her. She straight up giggled at that, so he guessed it was the right choice. He tried to remember all the other things his momma had taught him about “chivalry”. Those lessons happened a long time ago (His mom stopped teaching him about those things when they found out he was an omega).

“Thank you, John.” She smiled before waving goodbye. “I’ll see you around.”

The uncertainty of that statement bothered John.
“When would that be?”

Olivia smiled, but didn’t answer. She looked amused, as if John's quirks were endearing and not strange. He decided to test his luck even further.

“Could I ask for your number?” He asked, sure this time. No stuttering, no hesitation with firm eye contact.
Olivia sighed as she crossed her arms.

“Listen, John, I think you are a very sweet guy. But I don’t think you and I would be…compatible. Not in that way, at least.”

John's stomach turned. “Because of my personality?”

“No, no, gosh no. I meant something different.” She came closer as if she was about to say a big revelation. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m a beta.”

“I know,” he said flatly. He knew about it, but he just didn’t really think it was something that mattered.

“Oh.”

A second of silence.

“And you don’t mind?” She asked.

John shrugged. “No, not really.”

Silence again.

“Well, that’s nice. For you,” Olivia stated. She blinked rapidly, like she was bracing for the next part. “I… I’m not like that, though. I know betas have a rep of being flexible about things like that, people who could end up with pretty much anyone. ‘The adaptable ones’, ‘the moldable type’. But I’m not like that. I personally, never been interested in… people of your designation, not like that.”

John inhaled sharply. That hurt. Badly.

“Is that a bad thing to say? To have a preference?” Olivia continued, getting more disrupted, defending herself even though John hadn’t even uttered a word. “Because I don’t think it is. Alphas and omegas always prefer each other. But when a beta dares to have a preference, people act as if they committed an act of treason, and like it’s so unnatural for a beta to have some backbone. So tell me, how is it fair, huh?”

John gulped away the pain as he cleared his throat. “No, I guess it isn’t.”

“I think there’s nothing wrong if you don’t want to entertain the idea of having to be… You know, knotted, for example.” She struggled to get the word out, and she was visibly uncomfortable. “As if baring my neck for someone to bite an inexistent gland and be pushed around into submission was something I’m supposed to be grateful for. I won’t play pretend for an alpha. I don’t like that. I’m no omega, so I will not act like I am.”

“Alright?” John mumbled as he was processing the words.

“And I’m so sorry because I truly wished we were compatible in that sense, because you seemed like a great guy. You are funny in a quirky and charming way, and I hope maybe you’ll find the right fit for you.” She even huffed when she was over.

And John went from really hurt to really confused. “Wait, wait, wait. Why are you talking about knots and bite marks?”

“All I’m saying is, I’m not willing to… accept those things from you. So, yeah.”

John blinked a couple of times before inhaling deeply, finally understanding. She thought he was an alpha. Like everyone else did. “You hate the idea of being with an alpha.”

“Hate is a strong word… I just think it’s not for me.”

“How do you feel about omegas?”

“What?” She flushed. “Why would you ask that?”

“Just answer. If I were an omega, would you be interested?”

“I suppose that I wouldn’t hate the idea,” she made a pause, and then a face. John didn’t miss how Olivia had to fan her face with her hand or how deeply she inhaled. “But that doesn’t matter, right? So let’s stop making this difficult for both of us and...”

John grabbed both of her hands in his.

“Olivia, Olivia,” he gently repeated her name until she stopped mid-rant. “Listen to me for a second. There will be no knot, no bite marks, not of that. I can’t possibly do that, because I’m an omega, okay? So if you are interested in getting to know me, just say the word. Because I’m… interested.”

Olivia's mouth fell open, she paused a second to take everything in, and John patiently waited. “You? An omega?”

“Yes. Me. Omega.” He pointed at himself.

“Not an alpha?”

“Not an alpha. So what is it going to be?”

“Give me your phone,” Olivia muttered almost too quietly, getting super red as she extended her hand.

John didn't know, but earlier that day, he had forgotten his phone at Lemar’s. He ended up typing his number into her phone, but still, he insisted on getting hers memorized. On the way back home, he chanted those digits until they were embedded in his brain. And no matter the time, distance, or hardships, John never forgot those numbers.

——-

When Olivia went to see him play for the first time since she gave him her number, John felt like the stakes were higher than any game he had ever been in. Not even the state championship last year could compare to the determination John felt that night to do well for Olivia. And he made sure she knew that, as he pointed at her in the crowd every time he scored.

People would say John played like a god that time, but in John’s eyes, the only deity present was Olivia, and he was only paying her well-deserved tribute.

When it was over, John’s team roared in victory and ran to hug each other. John avoided everyone and only patted Lemar’s back as he went the opposite direction, towards the bleachers. Olivia received him with her arms stretched out, and without meaning to, John ended up lifting her off the ground for a second when they embraced.

“You were incredible out there, John!”

“It was because of you,” his voice came out ragged and hoarse, due to exhaustion. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you. Promise you’ll come to every game.”

Olivia looked at him for a moment with a grin on her face, and then she lifted one hand with only her pinky stretched out. John smiled back as he intertwined his finger with hers.

“Promise,” she whispered as she leaned to kiss her thumb.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s just something I do when I make a promise I really, really mean to keep. Like a more important promise.”

“Oh, so like a… vow?”

“You could say that.”

“Oh, okay then,” John mumbled before imitating Olivia and pressing his lips against his thumb.

She giggled, a little surprised. “No one had ever done it with me before!”

John liked hearing that. A lot.

“Well, I guess it’s our thing now.”

“Guess it is.”

They looked into each other’s eyes before leaning in again. This time with no hands in between.

Notes:

Ugh, it is so fun to write about this characters when they were in high school.

Also, I’m obsessed with Olivia and John. Wdym they were high school sweet hearts? Ugh my heart.

Chapter 3

Summary:

John loses someone and its aftermath.

Notes:

So, yeah this is a heavy one.

Trigger warning for themes of loss and grief. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.

Song: we’ll meet again by the the ink spots

Senior year was different. Busier. Between football practice, perfect grades, and the prospect of college, it was hard to get free time, which John chose to spend most of it with Olivia. They had been going steady for 2 months now, and that was precisely when John took her to meet his mom. It was a simple dinner at their place, nothing fancy. Just two awkward, nervous teenagers, an overly excited mom, and some frozen lasagna.

John thought it went well. At first, his mom was a little bit of a tornado, running everywhere, trying to tidy up the place as she welcomed Olivia. Meanwhile, Olivia was nervously mumbling every single compliment she could think of. Once both of them settled, the evening went smoothly, though. The conversation was light, and John could tell his mom was enjoying it, especially when Olivia would ask questions about John and his childhood. John had to put a stop to it before his mom could think of bringing out his naked baby pictures.

——-

“So, she isn’t an alpha?” She asked John while she cleaned the counter after the reunion was over. Her back was to him, so John couldn’t see her expression, but he caught something in her tone.

“No.”

“Alright.”

“You expected her to be?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything. I just always thought, you know, that omegas only wanted to be with alphas.” She shrugged and waved a dismissive hand. “But what do I know? I’m a beta.”

John didn’t say anything to that.

“But you guys are ok, right?” His mom asked this time with a little nervousness in her voice and tension in her shoulders.

“Yeah?” Answered confused. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I mean, people can be not as welcoming to… couples who are not as conventional.”

“Yeah, well. People don’t really think I’m an omega, but either way, I don’t care what they think. Let the people talk, I guess.” John shrugged.

“Right.”

Her mom stood very still for a moment, mid scrub.

“Do they? Talk, I mean.”

“Probably. We just don’t listen.”

John’s mom turned around with an expression that was something between a frown and a smile. She approached him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. John scrunched his face, pretending he hated it but didn’t pull away.

She cleaned the spilled tears on her cheek as she stepped back. “Oh, my. Sorry.”

“Mom?”

“No, it’s just… I feel extremely lucky that I get to experience this.” She made a gesture with both hands, pointing at John. “That I get to watch my baby boy turn into such a mature and loving man. I’m just very grateful.”

“You are making such a big deal out of this,” John mumbled, hiding his concern in annoyance.
“It is a big deal! Your happiness is a big deal. Because you are happy, right?”

“I am mom,” John whispered begrudgingly, almost too embarrassed to admit it.

“Good. Then bring her over more often.”

Hours later, in the middle of the night, John woke up to the sounds of puking, even though his mom had barely touched her food during dinner. The next morning, he asked her about it, but she didn’t give him a proper answer, nor did she the other times John caught her in similar circumstances.

It had been weeks, maybe months, since the signs began. One day it was headaches, others dizziness, and of course, there was the puking. John started pressing her to go to the hospital, and that’s when his mom probably started hiding her symptoms. Smiling through it all. And John believed that smile.

John wished he hadn’t been as busy during that time. He wondered if maybe he played a few fewer games, or if he stopped caring so much for his grades, then maybe he would’ve had more time for her. Maybe he would’ve noticed earlier. Done something. Anything.

That was the first mistake John made that he wasn’t able to forgive himself for.

——

Two weeks later, John found his mom passed out on the bathroom floor. He tried to act as fast and as collected as possible as he carried her in his arms and set her in his car. On the way to the hospital, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, not even after punching the steering wheel.

Once John made it there, he had a terrible sensation in the pit of his stomach when the staff approached her with familiarity and concern. They knew her.

“We will do our best to stabilize her, son,” a doctor said when he approached him, once she was taken out in a wheelchair. “Your mom’s cancer is quite aggressive. Her condition has been worsening this past year, but we are going to take care of her.”

John’s world spun upside down with that word. He inhaled a deep and broken breath. The shakes went from his hands to the rest of his body. He even felt his face tremble.

“We will give her more medicine for her stomach. That will help her keep food down better and maybe stop the fainting.”

“What about the cancer?”

The doctor looked at him, puzzled. “Come again?”

“What are you going to give her for the cancer? Chemo? Surgery?” John asked, not being able to hide his desperation.

“I’m sorry, son. But that won’t help your mother.”

‘And nothing will.’

He didn’t say the words, but John understood.

He cried loudly in his car for 10 minutes. When he was done, he cleaned up his face and went to sit next to his mom's bed, waiting for her to wake up. Never letting go of her hand.

——-

His mom was relatively okay until she wasn’t. Two months after John found out she was dying, she lost her ability to walk. John wanted to take care of her 24/7, but she wouldn’t let him. His mom pleaded with him to keep going to school, and of course, he couldn’t say no. No matter how stupid it felt. His world was ending, and he was in a classroom, looking at the clock, feeling the valuable time wasting away.

Whenever he was at school, Lemar’s mom came by. She cooked, cleaned, and took care of her every need. She did all of that without being asked to, and when John told her the gesture was too much, she didn’t even let him finish.

Of course, Lemar and Olivia tried their best to be there for him. But John wanted to spend every waking moment next to his mom, so he wasn’t hanging out with them as much as before. He didn’t have the energy to pretend to be strong in front of them, anyway. He could in front of his mom; he had to. But not for them. So even when they visited, John didn’t talk that much, and if they tried to step into his bubble with conversation or a gentle caress, John just politely stepped away. They never pushed him for more.

Two weeks after that, his mom couldn’t hold anything down, not even water. John knew that was the beginning of the end. That’s when he stopped going to school and respectfully asked Lemar’s mom to cease her visits. Most days, John’s mom was too tired and out of it to notice anyway. The days when she was lucid were the best. Regardless of her sickness, she could still be funny and a source of joy. John could almost pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

“John, I love you. You know that, right?” John stayed very still and dropped the towels he was folding.

“Yes, I know, Mom. I love you, too.” Normally, he wouldn’t say it so casually. But their normal was over.
John’s mom stretched her hand out and waited until he took it. He sat next to her and gripped it tightly. Her hand was bony and cold.

“I’m sorry. For everything,” she sobbed, but no tears came out.

“It’s okay. Nothing to be sorry about, Mom.” John tried his best to stay collected.

It was hardly the first time his mom wanted to give him a goodbye speech. They were different every time. Sometimes his mom tried to encourage him, but other times she was sorrowful and couldn’t stop apologizing for her sickness. There were even times when she would come up with something witty and lighthearted. Strangely enough, those were the hardest to listen to.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she repeated.

“It wasn’t your fault you got sick. Alright?”

“I’m not talking about that.” She squeezed his hand harder and tried to inch closer to him. She couldn’t, so instead John scooted his chair.

“I just… I always regretted many things. There are many things I wish I had done differently with you.”
John looked at her, puzzled. That was something he wasn’t expecting. “What do you mean?”

“I never should’ve told you to hide the fact that you were an omega. That wasn’t right. But I was just so scared. I was terrified that people were going to treat you differently because of your gender.”

“Don’t apologize for that.” John patted her hand gently. “When I was younger, I didn’t understand, but now I do. It was the right call.”

“Even when you were a kid, you were so strong. I should’ve trusted that strength. The world is tough, but you are tougher.” Her eyes glinted with pride as she tried to pinch his cheek. It felt more like a graze. “You even got in all those fights when you were younger just to help others.”

John's mouth opened in surprise.

“Oh, common. You really thought I didn’t know? You are smart, but your mom is smarter.”

John went very still as he gulped. He felt like a kid being caught red-handed. “Well, I was trying to protect others, the same way you always tried to protect me. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Yeah, I protected you, but at what cost?” She shook her head in disappointment. “You never go without your patches, not even around the house. You never talk about anything omega-related. It’s like you toned down this essential part of you. I hate it that it’s because of me.”

“You exaggerate.” John waved a dismissive hand.

“I exaggerate?” Her voice became agitated and harsh. “Then tell me why I’m going to leave this world without ever knowing my kid’s scent?”

John’s mouth opened and closed. He closed his hand into fists.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she sighed. She reached and grabbed his tensed hands. And she just rubbed them gently until he relaxed them. “I just get worried. You do so much for the people around you, the people you love, but it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes. So, if you want to be loud and proud about your scent and your status as an omega, do it. I support you. And the same goes for everything else. Like, if you want to marry Olivia, go for it. If you don’t, don’t. You could date as many alphas, betas, and omegas you wanted. Go to college, don’t go to college. Have kids, don’t have kids. All I want is for you to start listening to your heart.”

John laughed. The first sincere one in months. “So what are you saying? Because honestly, all I got from that is that you want me to date around.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m saying this: start living your life in a way that pleases you. And only you. With your head high. Always. You have a big heart when it comes to your loved ones, but it's okay to be a little selfish, too, alright? Because if you keep giving yourself away like that, then there will nothing left for you. Remember that.”

John inhaled deeply, and his bottom lip trembled as he did. With shaky hands, he reached the back of his neck and removed his patch.

“Mom, would you scent me?” He asked, his voice wet and gritty from holding everything in.

Betas didn’t have pheromone glands on their neck like omegas and alphas did, so they didn’t really feel the need to scent mark others. But they still had small scent glands in their wrists, so it wasn’t strange for them to participate in that activity if asked by fellow pack members. John and his mom had never done it because he had never asked. He didn’t know if it was ok to, now he didn’t care. And he was glad because the way she grinned was something he would never forget.

“Of course, my beautiful boy.”

She opened her arms for him, and he practically dived in, careful enough not to put his weight on her. She hugged him first as he rubbed his cheek on her neck gently, a few times. And then she rubbed her wrist on his Neck. Nothing much happened, really. John's scent had always been faint, and he had just been wearing a patch, so nothing much came out; and his mom stopped producing any scent weeks ago. But scent mark or not, that moment changed something between them.

After they separated, John sniffed loudly and harshly wiped his eyes. He stood up, trying to shake off the chills. Everything was too much.

“What about some music? You have always been so jittery. When you were a kid, dancing always made it better. Go put some ABBA, would you?”

John nodded, still rubbing his eyes out.

“Dancing Queen would be perfect,” she suggested. “My favorite.”

He turned around and walked towards her old music stereo. He looked through her drawer full of CDs.

“I’m glad you want Dancing Queen because if you said you wanted Slipping through my fingers, I would’ve lost it,” he half-joked. She didn’t answer.

When he tried to play the CD in the stereo, it didn’t work. He gave the device a few slaps, but nothing.

“Strange. Maybe it’s the batteries. Do you know if we have any spare around the house?”

Silence again.

John didn’t need to look to know. He just knew.

His mom passed away that afternoon at that exact moment.

Strangely, he didn’t cry, he didn’t scream, he didn’t break everything like he thought he would. He just stood there. Very still.

——-

The funeral was small but nice. John’s mom didn’t have any family besides him, so just some friends who knew her from work, and a few neighbors attended. And of course, Lemar’s family was there. Olivia’s was, too.

After the ceremony was over, Olivia and Lemar took John back home. He was still unresponsive and detached. He hadn’t uttered a single word for a couple of days since the passing of his mom. The doctors said he was in shock and it would eventually go away, and they assured Lemar’s family that John would be back to his old self in no time. The blonde felt like that was impossible. How could he? When a part of him was gone forever.

That very same night, he surprised Lemar and Olivia when he stood up from his couch, after hours of staring off into the distance, and asked for batteries. The lack of use made his voice raspy and strange. They both tried to act cool, but John could see how they both got teary-eyed as they scrambled to find batteries around John’s house.

When they finally found some, John walked to his mom’s room, changed the batteries of the stereo, and Dancing Queen began to play. He ripped the patch from his neck, trying to mimic everything from that day. As if he were just unpausing a video, desperately wanting to know the continuation of a scene.

Lemar and Olivia were watching from the door.

“The last thing she said is that this would help, because…” he tried to explain, but his bottom lip trembled before the hiccups, and the ugly sobbing erupted out of him. He covered his eyes with his palm and, with the other hand, tried to support his spasming body using the nightstand as leverage.

Lemar and Olivia were quickly by his side, and they helped John carry the burden as much as they could.

——

Moving to Lemar’s house helped John a lot. He had good days, but others were not so great. He often felt guilty about the good days, though. It was strange how he knew how much his mom would want him to be happy, but still felt guilty for it. Undeserving even.

In his last semester, he kept himself busy, he played the best he could, he aimed for perfect grades, and he tried to be the perfect boyfriend and the perfect best friend.

It was hard to follow his mom’s advice about living life in a way that pleased him when he didn’t feel much at all most days. Instead, he just went along with what he thought was correct for him, the things that used to make sense for him, before everything happened

John decided to keep wearing his patches in public, just because the thought of more change in his life gave him anxiety. He didn’t want to lose the small sense of control the routine of using them granted him.
One thing that did change was that he stopped wearing them whenever he was at home with Lemar or hanging out with Olivia. He felt strange about it, but neither of them ever said anything. They seemed happy when he first did it, and John noticed how they would discreetly smell the air when he was around.

John discovered his scent was a combination of vanilla and honey. He wished his mom could know that.

Notes:

I cried writing this ngl

I just always assumed John didn't have any family other then Lemar and Olivia, and thats why he clung to them and their opinions so fiercely during the show and I wanted to write a backstory to that.

Chapter 4

Summary:

John wants to be a soldier to help others, but it will come with a high price to pay.

Notes:

Tbh I don’t know anything about the military. I’m not even American. So, yeah take this as fiction because I don’t know what the hell I'm talking about

Love and kisses

Song: soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos

Only because Olivia, Lemar and John are sooo that song.

One day, a scout from West Point attended one of their games, and he only showed interest in both Lemar and John. After all, they played impeccably whenever they were both standing on that field together; it was impossible not to noticed them.

He praised John and Lemar for their athleticism and then went on about their good grades. He finished his pitch, saying they were exactly what the country needed. When he said the words “hero” and “saving”, something in John’s brain lit up like a Christmas tree. An old flame inside of him rekindled. The first sparkle of something after weeks of feeling numb.

Lemar didn't have a similar reaction. He quickly rejected the proposal, as he was planning to take over his dad’s car shop anyway.

“What about you, son?” The man asked John.

The blond tapped his fingers on the side of his thigh, pondering.

“How does the working field look after graduating? With the people, I mean.. Would I- would I be able to help people in missions and tours and stuff?”

“Yes, of course. We are looking for men who want to help their country and save its people. Nothing more than that, fellas.”

“That- that sounds nice.”

“You could be a hero.” The man clasped a hand on John’s shoulder. The gesture was almost fatherly. “You could save many people. I can tell you have it in you. You just need the means and the skills. West Point can give you that.”

“I don’t know if I’m all that.” John let a bitter chuckle out.

“Listen, kid. Your coach filled me in a little bit on everything that you have been going through and getting up every day, coming here, playing the way you did today? That takes more than guts. It’s pure determination and willpower. That’s what I look for in a soldier.”

John inhaled deeply. This was what he needed. Purpose. A clear path.

“You guys are the perfect alphas for our program.”

John blinked at that. “Excuse me, you said alphas? As in only-alphas program?”

“Well, not officially, of course. You know how politics are nowadays.” He swatted a hand in dismissal. “But, yeah, that’s the profile we are scouting for. Only the best of the best can attend.”

John felt a chill run through his spine. The type that made him want to fight and snarl. And foremost, it challenged him.

“Well, I’m very interested in that program, sir.”

Lemar made eye contact with him, almost whispering with his eyes, ‘are you being serious right now?’ John shrugged in response.

At the end, the scout gave his contact information to John before leaving.

“John,” Lemar said his name as he was getting ready to scold him.

“What? It’s just an information card.”

He said that, but Lemar knew that glimmer in his eyes. The sparkle of conviction.

“We are talking about the military here, John. The army. You know, the one that actually goes to war? Nothing casual about it.”

John sighed. “I know.”

“And attending an only-alpha program? Are you out of your mind? What's your plan, huh? Sneak in, use some patches, and pray you don’t get a heat for the next 4 years?”

Lemar mentioning his heats caught him off guard. He had never done it. John’s ears went red.

“Pretty much. Some good suppressants as a backup plan would be nice too,” John tried to joke, but Lemar didn’t find it funny.

“Do you actually want to go to West Point?” Lemar asked carefully.

“I just… want to help. Always wanted that. Why are alphas the only ones allowed to do that, huh?” John inched closer to Lemar, as his breathing quickened. “Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t unfair? That someone shouldn’t be doing something. Trying to change things somehow…”

Lemar let out a deep exhale. “No, I cannot, John.”

There was some heavy silence, not uncomfortable. Just meaningful.

“Do you think I couldn’t manage?” John asked uncertainly. “Like I would be a terrible soldier or something? Just because I’m an omega?”

“Quite the opposite. That’s why I’m scared. I think you’ll give your everything to help, because that’s who you are. You could be the best soldier this country has seen. Hell, you could beat any alpha any day of the week if you put your mind to it. I hated that guy, but he was right. You have to guts to do just about anything.”

John smiled and patted Lemar’s back. “I think you would also be a great soldier. I have the guts, but you have the heart.”

Lemar smiled at that. “I really would be a great soldier.”

Lemar and John exchanged looks before Lemar let out a defeated sigh.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

——

“So, West Point, huh?” Olivia mumbled in a quiet voice. “So it’s official. You are actually leaving next fall.”

“Yeah. My acceptance letter came in.” He wanted to be happy. But how could he when he was leaving her behind?

“Well, congrats,” she whispered with a small smile that looked more like a frown.

“I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“You are sorry?” Olivia inquired. “That's it? That's all you’re going to say?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m sorry for leaving. I really don’t want to. I wish things were different, but I have to do this.” He tried to get his feelings across as articulative as possible. “What else can I say to make this better?”

“Ask me to wait for you.”

John's breathing stilled. The idea of begging her to wait for him was as tempting as it was unthinkable. Because it wouldn’t just be the request to wait 4 years for him. He was signing up, under the pretense of being an alpha, to be a soldier for fuck sake. Asking her to wait was more like a life sentence.

“I’m not worth all the trouble, Olivia,” John whispered. He wasn’t crying, but he could feel the wetness in his eyes. “You know the stuff I’m going to need to do to go there; the lies I would have to say. I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire if something goes south.”

“John.” Her hands cradled his face, and she forced him to look at her. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I love you.” It wasn’t the first time he said it. But saying it still made his heart flutter like it was.

“Then nothing else matters, because I love you too.” She brushed his bangs back gently as his hands naturally rested on her waist. “We’ve been through so much together. What difference would it make to go for a little bit longer? Huh? So just make the question. Ask me to wait.”

For some reason, he didn’t like her phrasing. He didn’t want just ‘a little bit longer’ with her. He wanted a lifetime.

That time, John didn’t ask her to wait. Instead, he asked for her hand in marriage, and she said yes as she sobbed in John’s arms.

They got married that summer, on the first anniversary of the day they met. It was small and rushed, but they were happy. Lemar even cried as Olivia and John pinky swore with a kiss on their thumbs, vowing their love to each other.

John took her to a small Cabin in the countryside where they enjoyed their honeymoon, just the two of them for the rest of that summer.

By fall, John and Lemar were off to West Point. Two guys in search of becoming men in hopes of changing the world for the better.

——-

His first months at West Point were challenging. And not because he had to fake being an alpha, that was actually the easy part. The forged medical papers were a little bit tricky, but with the help of one of Lemar’s cousins, the one who was a doctor, they got them eventually. And given John’s appearance and semblance, no one doubted him, not even for a second. No, the lying was so easy.
It wasn’t even the physical hardships of training that got to John. The sleepless nights, the hunger, the bruising, and the aching. John could endure that and so much more without blinking an eye.
The difficult part for John was the fact that he needed to stop relying on his instincts and stick to his training, stick to what he was told to do. Regardless of whether his brain was spiraling, telling him otherwise. His mind was so loud sometimes, and the easiest way to make it go quiet was to just listen to it.
His superiors weren’t happy even if John was successful; they didn’t like it when he got creative. So they would often pick up on him, screaming on his face and even pushing him around. But John was a big boy; he could take it.

He sometimes wished Lemar was there with him, though. Sadly, his first initial assignment was somewhere else.

At night, he thought of him. But mostly he thought of Olivia. His eyes watered every time he did.

 

——-

It was the end of his first year when he witnessed one of his fellow soldiers die. It was supposed to be a simple practice drill, far away from combat, but John’s team was intercepted by two runaways from the opposite side.

John tried his best; he really did.

As they were carrying the heavily wounded soldier back to camp, John kept promising he was not going to die on his watch. But he did. By the time they were back, he was only holding a lifeless body.

His superior debriefed every single one of them simply and quickly, except for John. Instead, they kept battering him all night long with their accusations. They asked him multiple times to tell the story from start to finish, questioning every single detail. After the first three hours, John started to be confused about what had actually happened. The details were meshing up altogether. He ended up telling different versions, not sure which one was real anymore. His brain felt scrambled after so many misleading questions. At some point John shut down, tuning them out, as he went really quiet. His eyes could only focus on the dried blood covering his fingers.

By the end of the debrief, his superiors concluded John was the one to blame for the tragedy. And between stress, lack of sleep, hunger, and grief, John believed them. That death was on him.

John’s superiors showed mercy and understanding, though. They let him go with a clear warning: that was his last chance. No more do-overs. He needed to be a good soldier or go home.

So John did exactly that. He listened and obeyed. It was easy once he disconnected that loud part of his brain. And it was nice, not feeling like his personal judgment was clouding his actions. He was as sharp and efficient as a machine. No more second-guessing or pondering. His body didn’t feel like his anymore.

John now only acted as commanded. Never made mistakes.

And of course, he witnessed a lot more blood spilling of his fellow man, even when he followed protocol to the tee. But the fact that his hands and actions were not his anymore made it better for John to stand. It gave him a false sense of absolution. Just temporarily, though.

At night was when his brain would turn back on, and it would always be bad. Not even the memory of Olivia would bring him peace.

Sometimes he would force himself to think about his mom and her death. Trading one grief for another. Finding comfort and familiarity in an old wound and running away from a new one, he couldn’t quite understand how he got it.

It was a vicious cycle. Turning his brain off, then being overwhelmed and confused when it was on. Eventually, he would only find relief when it was off. When he was out there, soaking in the silence and working like a Swiss clock under someone else’s mandates.

That was the only way John had to cope.

Notes:

I loved writing this one.

John’s mom: I just want you to take your own choices in life and be your own person.

John: *gets manipulated, when he was emotionally vulnerable, into a system that prioritizes obedience which leads to loss of individualism*

Great stuff, great stuff

Btw, *spoiler alert* but next chapter we finally get John in heat :)

Chapter 5

Summary:

John gets his first heat. And life keeps moving.

Notes:

Trigger warning for smut! Tbh I think I wrote it pretty tamely and also it’s super short.

But if you don’t want to read it, skip from the kiss to the next two paragraphs.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

At the start of his second year, it finally happened. The thing John was dreading the most. 

The symptoms crept up on him slowly, but surely. John could tell he wasn’t as fast, as sharp. His whole body felt heavier and feverish. For John, who lived to be always on top of his game, the changes were painfully obvious. 

There was no denying it. His first heat was making its way into his system.

When he approached his superior, he straightened his back and cleared his throat. He didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.

“Sir. Permission to speak?”

He looked at John, neither annoyed nor pleased to have to deal with him. “Speak.”

“Sir, I will need to take my medical leave.”

“Rut?” He arched his eyebrow.

“Yes, sir.” John didn't hesitate, didn’t even blink. He couldn’t be caught in a lie.

Alphas were entitled to a week-long absence leave three times per year to deal with their ruts. More could be granted if they had an omega spouse. 

“When was your last rut, soldier?”

John shifted uncomfortably in his place. “It’s the first one, sir.”

“What?” He spat in surprise. “How old are you?”

“I'm 19, about to turn 20.”

John was inside the parameters of what was considered normal for omegas and alphas to experience their first rut or heat. This was between the ages of 17 to 19, and even some people went as far as having them until they were 20. 

“Jesus,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead with his palm. “Sometimes I forget you all are just a bunch of kids.”

John didn't know what to say to that. He didn’t feel like a kid, not after everything. 

He filled some forms, and pretty soon he was out of there, in a plane on his way to Olivia. He could briefly explain the situation over the phone. He needed to be cautious; John never knew who could be listening.

He shifted nervously on his seat nonstop. John didn’t know what to expect. Of course, he knew in theory what was going to happen to him. He was aware of what his body was about to do.  But he wondered how it would actually feel. Would he hate it? Would he be scared? Or would he enjoy it? 

Normally, the first few ruts and heats were “easier”. The body was smart enough to let the person adapt slowly. People said the third one was the first taste of how long and intense they actually were. 

 A chill ran through his spine just thinking about it.

Olivia came to pick him up, receiving him with a big hug. She smiled in between tears. He was a little stunned. After months of not seeing each other, it felt like she was not real. John kissed her harder just to be sure. 

Olivia was living a little outside of town, in a small apartment, close to the community college she was attending. It was small but cozy. Perfect for them.

“So,” Olivia muttered as she sat down on her couch. She patted down the space next to her, and John sat there. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” John nodded a little too much. He was exuding Nervous energy. “Just, I- well. The normal stuff. I think? I’m hot.”

“Damn right you are.” Olivia winked at him. 

John rolled his eyes but smiled, pleased. 

She kissed his cheek. “Anything else?”

“My stomach is on fire. The lower part, especially. And ugh, my neck is itchy.” He reached out his hands to his patch and ripped it from his glands. Letting his pheromones be free for the first time in months. 

“Oh, wow.” Olivia blinked as her nose scrunched. “Your scent is super strong and so sweet.”

John nodded lazily. He was starting to feel extremely drowsy. 

“John, are you with me? Use your words, please.”

“Yes.” His voice came out raspy. 

“I think you should go lie down. Can you walk?”

He stood up and immediately felt dizzy. 

Thankfully, Olivia was by his side, guiding him all the way to her room. Once he was on the bed, back against the headboard, Olivia sat down next to him and combed his sweaty bangs out of the way. 

“John, listen.” John looked up at a super nervous Olivia. “I bought some stuff.”

She grabbed a box from her nightstand and opened it for John to see. At first, he didn’t know what to make of it, and when he did, he felt all his blood rush to his face. The box had different dildos, some with knots, some without them. There was also lube and perfumes with alpha pheromones. And other things John didn’t know what they were. 

John opened his mouth and then closed it. 

“I didn’t know what you would like. I bought a lot. I hope you are not freaked out, but I wanted to be prepared. I’ve never been with an omega in heat, and I don’t want it to be bad for you,” Olivia rambled as she usually did when she was losing her cool. “I never thought I would be buying stuff like this. But I hope you like it. If you don’t want to use it, is totally fine, though. This is not weird, right? Maybe I should’ve asked first?”

“Olivia, it’s fine.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. 

Olivia nodded. “We should talk about it, though. What you want, what you don’t want. Because maybe later you won’t be in the right head space to do so.”

“Alright,” John agreed. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know what I want, and honestly, the not knowing makes me nervous. But I trust you, and I want to… try to find out what I like. Together.”

Olivia nodded slowly. They were both a little flushed. Their heavy breathing matched in pace. John urged her by the waist to sit on his lap. 

“If it’s alright with you, I would be ok with doing everything,” he confessed, looking deeply into those beautiful deep eyes. He took one of her hands and stretched out her fingers, and then closed all of them, except her pointer. He kissed and nibbled that fingertip gently. “Do whatever you want to me, just… ease me into it. Can you do that for me?”

It was a silent plea: ‘Please, be gentle with me.’ 

John needed to let go of everything and just be in the hands of someone else. Someone who cared and loved him. Someone safe.

Olivia nodded, eyelids low and heavy, mouth hanging open.

“Kiss me then.” 

And she did. She grabbed him from the back of his head and kissed his face, before she went for his lips. They both inhaled deeply as it happened.

For the first time in his life, John felt a foreign wetness pool in his backside, and he embraced it. 

He embraced all of it: the finger that curled inside of him when he was deep inside his wife; the satisfaction of being pinned down by the neck while Olivia rode him; and he even accepted the desperate need to have teeth biting harshly on his glands. John knew the bite mark wasn’t going to stick, but the action still satisfied something deep and animalistic within him, something he didn’t know existed. 

By the end, when he was too out of it, John was begging and pleading with Olivia to bite him and fill him up. And even after cumming, he would still be hard and gushing slick. John would only truly calm down when he had a knot toy locked inside of him. John pretended he didn’t remember that happening. But he remembered most of it, which surprised him. He thought omegas often lost their sanity during heats. But John didn’t, for the most part.

His heat lasted only a day and a half, probably because it was only the first one. After all, normal heats lasted for about 4 days. (They were shorter than a week-long rut, but they happened more frequently. Heats were every two months and ruts every four.) 

Olivia never left his side, not during, not after. She was sweet when John was feeling vulnerable and clingy, but passionate and relentless when he was desperate. 

In the following days, John was super energized and content. And he felt ridiculous for ever thinking a heat was a scary or painful experience. Heats were a lot, but John thought they were more good than bad. 

The best was the intensity of it all. The emotions were so high, he didn’t have space in his brain to dwell on anything. No self-doubt, no grief, no West Point.

——-

Pretending to be an alpha got harder after that. It was like his heat awakened all those instincts and omega-like behaviors he always assumed he was lacking. 

For example, whenever someone on his team was distressed, his glands tried to release calming omega pheromones, which only resulted in him having an itchy neck and having to change his patch. 

At night, whenever he thought of Olivia, he would unconsciously bunch his sheets around him. As a result, he would have to wake up really early to make sure no one saw him nesting. 

And of course, the worst came too: the submission. It wasn’t obvious to others, especially because John was an outstanding soldier, so of course, he would follow orders and obey with ease. But John could tell something had changed. Now there was an underlying sense of satisfaction that wasn’t there before. It was unsettling. 

He didn’t let that cloud his sense of leadership, though. Whenever he was in charge of a mission, he was careful not to fall into that tendency. 

Truth be told, he enjoyed being the second in command better than team leader. As a second, he could still give his input on things, but he didn’t have to deal with the pressure, with the aftermath. Being just a useful tool was more than enough for John.  But no alpha would ever say that, so he stepped into the role of leader often and even asked for it.

There were times he even fought for dominance with other alphas, snarling and baring teeth. It was more difficult to fake now. John would feel jittery and shaky every time he had to do it. There were times he even got fevers after that would make him puke. But John pushed down every vulnerable fiber on his body and kept doing it if the circumstances needed it. He never backed down. 

He couldn’t blow his cover. A dishonorable discharge would be the least of his problems if his peers found out he was an omega. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere with dozens of highly trained, volatile alphas, who didn’t think very highly of his kind. Yeah, John was no idiot.  He was aware of his precarious situation. 

——

Two months after John presented, he used suppressants for his second heat. Even though he craved, in body and soul, to spend it with his wife, he couldn’t afford to take another absent leave without raising suspicion. He had to wait until the next one.

The suppressants worked better than John expected when he injected them into his bloodstream. He could still feel a lot of the annoying symptoms, like the hotness, the nausea, and soreness. But he wasn’t getting wet, he wasn’t expelling horny pheromones everywhere and more importantly, he wasn’t losing his mind asking to be knotted. 

No one noticed anything different in him. 

——

John and Lemar graduated from West Point four years after enrolling. During that period of time, they were only able to see each other here and there. But now they were looking to a bright future of working together ahead of them. 

They were both different people, which was obvious in plain sight. More stern, more mature, more rigid. They were forever changed. They had to, in order to survive. John and Lemar didn’t talk much about the difficult details of their training, but there was this understanding between them that didn’t need words. 

Olivia didn’t quite fully understand the hardships they went through. But she was there, for both of them. 

“It actually happened. We did it,” John mumbled, still a little incredulous, after the graduation ceremony was over. 

Lemar patted him on the back. “We did, brother.”

“I’m proud of you guys,” Olivia said with a big smile on her face. 

John looked up at her and smiled back. He reached for her, pulling her into his side. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he kissed her forehead.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” John said with a wet voice. He sniffed loudly. 

“Me too. I love you.” 

“Ugh, not in front of me,” Lemar complained playfully.

“Come here, you little shit.” John stretched out his empty arm and grabbed Lemar by his uniform, forcing him into a side hug, while still holding onto Olivia.

“Oh, there’s love for me, too? Okay,” Lemar chirped. 

“Dude. Of course. You are my family. Both of you are.”

And then John wasn’t the only one crying anymore. 

The three of them stayed tangled like that for a long time. 

——

John noticed on his first year out of West Point that there weren’t any omegas actively serving in any of his assignments. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. Realizing that there was no foreseeable future in which he could do what he wanted in life, in an honest way. 

It’s not like he expected that he could come clean immediately after graduation, but he thought there’d be a place for him; people he could look up to. Meet other omegas who also made it somehow, who defied the system like he did, and find solace with them.

But that was a childish fantasy. 

——

He was two years out of West Point when the Battle of New York happened. All operatives were called in, which was strange. John didn’t know what was happening exactly, but he knew it was big. They were whispers about aliens, monsters, and gods. Frankly, John didn’t care who the enemy was; he was ready to fight. 

Suddenly, on their way there, their military plane made a turn. All units were being pulled back. When John heard why, he went numb. His stomach turned, and he almost puked at the idea of losing so many lives, because that’s what the government decided. Lives they were still able to save. 

That was the first and only time John tried to disobey direct orders to stand his ground against his superiors. Lemar eventually had to pull him away from them, as John snarled and screamed like a madman. But no one listened to him. 

John sighed in huge relief when he heard on the radio how the situation in the big city had been contained and stopped, with minimum casualties, thanks to a new group of superheroes. 

After that, he started watching the news just in hopes he would hear anything new and interesting about the Avengers. He admired them because they could do what simple men like John couldn’t.

John knew about Steve Rogers prior to New York. Who wouldn’t?  He was part of American history. John even answered exams that were about Captain America when he was in middle school. Knowing about his past and legacy, John felt a certain kinship. The type he always felt with soldiers who also knew what war was, the people who lived it firsthand. So, yeah, John liked the idea of someone like Steve being out there, doing what's right.

Notes:

I feel like this is a happier one after all the angst from the last two chapters, but idk.

Also, I’m going to start adding more important canon events, so everything makes sense in which point in time we are and to explore John’s POV of things. Hope you like that!

 

Tell me what you think<3

Chapter 6

Summary:

John struggles in life but he finds a way to do better, to be better.

Notes:

Here is another one!

Trigger warning! for depression and mental health issues.

Years went by, and John’s career in the military grew more and more successful. He was respected, he was admired, sometimes even feared. During his tours, John saved many people. Lost a considerable amount, too, but it was part of how things went sometimes. John still lamented those losses. But he had to get up and keep going.

His days in Afghanistan were hell. John wished he could erase from his memory the things he had to do to survive. He was brought to tears every time he remembered the horrors.

And the worst part? He was given three badges of honor for those atrocious acts. He was congratulated and celebrated for what he considered to be the worst day of his life.

John tried to live on and atone for his acts in more military work. Sinking into his routine made it easy for him to pretend everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

He didn’t get his heat for a whole year after he received the badges. It wasn’t unusual for Omegas not to get their cycle as a reaction to imminent danger, going into some sort of survival mode. That’s how bad John’s emotional distress was. His body thought he was dying.

Naturally, Olivia knew something was wrong, but she didn’t press him too much about it. There was no need; that’s how good she had gotten at figuring John out. It took a while, but she got it down perfectly. She knew when he needed space and quiet, or when John needed a strong hand to support him and gentle words of encouragement.

During those days, he started to disassociate. A lot. That hadn’t happened to him since his mom died. Olivia also adapted to that, gently bringing him back to reality, trying her best not to startle him. Sometimes it didn’t work, and he would stay in this half-gone state for a while. Olivia would just wait for him. She always waited.

“It’s ok. Take your time. I’m just going to sit here next to you, if that’s alright with you. You know I’ve never minded the silence,” Olivia would gently whisper every time.

John didn’t think he deserved Olivia. But in general, he didn’t feel deserving at all. That feeling came with the badges of honor and never really left him. It stuck to him like a disease.

——

 

John had disagreements with Olivia here and there. They weren’t unfamiliar with petty arguments. But they were just that. Most of the time, John would hug her and apologize immediately; Olivia would say sorry back, and that was the end of it. It didn’t matter who was in the wrong. No feelings were ever hurt. Words never went too far.

They had their first big fight the night of Olivia’s 30th birthday. John made sure he was going to be at home to celebrate it. He had even made reservations at Olivia’s favorite restaurant weeks in advance. Unfortunately, they never made it there.

As John finished tying his tie, Olivia casually mentioned she had been talking with an adoption agency for the past few weeks.

“Why?”

John was so side blinded by the news, the word just came out. Almost like a reflex.

Olivia’s semblance turned sour. “What do you mean, why? We talked about adoption. You said you wanted kids.”

John did say that when they were dating, and he kept saying it until early on in their marriage. They used to watch the stars and giggle while they talked about their future. Olivia repeatedly told him she didn’t care that he couldn’t, as an omega, get her pregnant. And John would hug and kiss her every time.

It was nice back then, when things were easier and John wasn’t what he was now.

"That was a long time ago,” John mumbled as he pinched the space between his eyes.

“Didn’t know there was an expiration date on that,” she retorted.

John sighed. “Olivia, it’s just that… It’s not the right time for that.”

Olivia stilled for a while, looking into the distance.

“It never is,” she mumbled grimly. “Between tours, special mission ops, heats; Never a moment of peace. It’s always too much, and I’m tired of waiting for the right moment.”

Olivia didn’t say anything wrong, but all John heard was that he was too much. That he was the issue. The confirmation of all his long-time fears: he was, in fact, a burden.

“Sorry that it’s too much for you.” John's tone was harsh, harsher than he had ever talked to Olivia before. “But it’s exactly because it’s fucking too much that we shouldn’t make absurd decisions now!”

“Absurd decisions?” she huffed. “Why is it absurd? Eh?”

John stayed quiet, looking at Olivia.

“We accommodated every single thing in our lives to your needs! To your wants! Because that’s how it is, right? Screw the beta woman, who cares about what she wants, right?”

“Oh, stop it with the beta pity party. You know this isn’t about that.”

Olivia went red, jaw locked tight. She raised an accusatory finger as she jabbed it at John’s chest. “You are being an asshole!”

John opened his mouth and then closed it. He wanted to apologize. But he didn’t. Pride was too big, and feelings were too hurt.

“You know I’ve supported you in every choice, every decision you’ve made. At every step of the way, I’ve been there for you, for the good, the bad and the fucking awful. And hell, we both know there has been a lot of that.” Olivia’s voice was shaky, her eyes glossing with tears, but not a single one spilled. “The least I would expect from you is the same treatment back. But this behavior… It’s so disappointing.”

“Right.” John stepped in front of her, feeling his veins burn with something similar to anger, but not quite. “I hear you, and I’m sorry that I’m such a disappointment! I'm sorry that I make your life so much harder by being too much. I’m sorry that I’m away most of the time, and when I’m home, I’m just a sad excuse of a man. And I’m sorry that my heats are exhausting and a lot to deal with. You deserve so much more than what I’m capable of giving you. I know that!”

Olivia was stunned after John’s outburst. She reached out to him, but he dodged her hand, stepping back. He would crumble under that touch.

“But shipping a baby from god knows where is not going to fix whatever issue you have. Wake up, Olivia,” John said sternly. The kind of voice he would only use at work.

The heartbreak in Olivia’s eyes was obvious. She stormed to their room and locked herself up all night.

In the morning, when she finally opened the door, John was already there, standing in front of it, ready to beg for forgiveness. Olivia only stared warily at him. Like she was a prey ready to run away at any sight of danger. John hated that look so much. He hated himself for causing it.

“Olivia, this is the truth.” He shifted nervously side to side and inhaled shakily. “I- I don’t think I’m equipped to be a dad right now. We both know about… my struggles. A lot of the time, I’m not okay, Olivia.”

Olivia stayed quiet. They never really talked about John’s issues. They lived through them, and they waited for them to be over, but they would never discuss them.

“I try not to let it get to me, but sometimes...” John crossed his arms in front of his chest, almost in a protective way. “Sometimes it’s bad. And it’s like, what if it makes me a shitty dad? I- I got scared, if I’m being honest. But I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, and I’m sorry.”

She took a second before nodding.

“But you are my family, and if that’s what you truly want, I will support your decision. I think… we could pull anything off if we do it together. I do not doubt in my heart that you would be an amazing mom. And I trust you more than I trust myself. Because even when—”

Olivia didn’t even let him finish before she grabbed him into a hug, breaking into a sob. Her tears drenched his fancy shirt he still had on.

“There is no world where you could ever be a bad dad, how could you ever think that?” she cried, tone almost angry. “I love you and I wouldn’t change anything about you. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“You wouldn’t change anything? Not even my heats?” he joked.

She laughed, but it came out half as a sob. “Especially your heats.”

“I always knew you had a thing for omegas.”

She pushed him away with a smile on her red face.

——-

John thought Olivia would bring it up again, to set things in motion with the adoption. But she didn’t.

And then a few weeks later, the Snap happened.

For John, it happened in the middle of a recon mission. One moment, he was leading his team as they moved swiftly through enemy territory, and the next, his soldiers were disappearing, dusting away into the air.

He could remember how tightly he hugged Lemar, thinking they were next, and how he fell to his knees in relief when Olivia answered his call after.

Everyone lost so much that day. John was lucky, though. He still had Lemar and Olivia with him.

The world became a place too dangerous and too chaotic. It didn’t feel right to even think about having kids. Why have them if you didn’t know if they would be stripped away from you at any given moment by the simple snap of a finger?

In the back of his mind, John was relieved. It was not because he didn’t want kids, but because he was terrified of how he could mess them up. He didn’t know how to be a father. He didn’t even know how it was to have a father.

It was for the better.

——

His first special operation after the snap was a hostage rescue mission. This was a high-profile assignment. One of the biggest operations John had ever had to lead in his whole military career. Probably that was the reason there was much confusion and resistance when John gave the final say on the soldiers who’d be part of his team for the mission. No one expected him to choose three betas and one omega between his rankings.

John saw their personal records and noticed they were capable and highly skilled soldiers, despite never being given assignments up with their talents. John didn’t need to ask why. He knew they weren’t able to get further in their career because they were not alphas. And that rightfully pissed him off.

During the selection process, he fought for them and he got them. And he was glad he did because the mission was a notorious success; the kind that saves lives and improves careers. The kind that makes history.

When the operation was over and the team was traveling towards the closest military airfield, the hotness and the chills he was eerily familiar with hit him. He wasn’t sure why it was happening; maybe it was the adrenaline that triggered it. But he was sure of one thing: he wasn’t expecting a heat and he wasn’t ready for it. Not there in the middle of nowhere; trapped in a van with armed soldiers. Yeah, some were betas and another an Omega, but still the other half of the team were alphas. And at the end of the day, John didn’t know these people beyond the fact that they were good at their job. He wasn’t safe.

John's breathing failed him, and his vision became dizzy, not sure if it was because of the heat or the panic. He ordered the van to stop in between heaves and jumped out, almost falling in the process. He walked shakily, hearing people screaming his name in confusion and telling him to stop. He didn’t make it far anyway, as he passed out in the middle of the road.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on the floor of what looked like an abandoned shed. His eyes widened, and his hands desperately touched his chest and other vital parts of his body, assessing the damage.

“It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you,” the omega woman from his team kneeled next to him, showing both her hands in the air. “We gave you suppressants about half an hour ago. The symptoms should be gone by now.”

John nodded.

The woman didn't say anything, didn't ask questions, and John also didn't explain himself. And only when she left, the silence was broken by the sniffling of his crying.

About half an hour later, he left the shed and rejoined his team, who had been waiting outside. John held their gaze with his head high, challenging anyone to dare say something. Most of them couldn't look at him; their eyes on the ground. The ones who could had these bewildered eyes on them. John wondered if it was from disbelief, disgust, or maybe betrayal.

Again, no one said anything for the rest of the trip back, but John knew this was it for him. His career was over.

When he made it home, he just waited patiently. He knew the pending news of his dishonorable discharge needed to come in any moment. It was only a matter of time.

But days of waiting turned to weeks, and suddenly he was assigned his next mission, like nothing had happened.

He later found out no one in that unit ratted him out. Not even the alphas. To this day, he still wasn’t sure why.

 

——

For the next five years John worked and led mostly hostage rescue and counterterrorism missions and he was damn good at it. Those years were the best. He felt like he had finally found balance with those missions. He could be a remarkable soldier, a well-oiled machine, but still do good. Making the world a better place little by little, mission by mission.

He continued pushing for diversity in his special teams and supported in any way he could the new wave of beta and omega soldiers. He never came clean about his real gender, but what he was doing gave him some sort of closure about it. He couldn’t be himself out there, but he could help others to be.

He stopped forcing himself to perform as an alpha all the time, though. He didn’t need to snarl or fight for dominance to be respected anymore, so he just stopped. And he even leaned into his omega qualities more comfortably. He understood he didn’t need to be a good alpha to achieve his goals. Being a good, capable leader was enough.

People still thought he was an alpha, though. Just a very unconventional one.

John was also feeling better. He didn’t have nightmares that often, and his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him anymore. He was content with life. It took a while, but it happened.

All the painful training, living a fake life as an alpha, the psychological terror, all of it was finally paying off because he finally had the one thing he wanted the most: the peace that came with doing the right thing.

When the people who disappeared five years ago were finally brought back, the world went mad again. With half of the Avengers gone for good and the other half pretty much MIA, everyone was scared and confused.

John kept himself grounded by doing his thing. Every day trying to be a better husband, a better friend, and a better soldier. John was always trying.

 

——-

John was preparing for a special-ops mission in Chile when he received an unexpected call.

The life-changing kind.

When he heard that the government was looking for the next Captain America and that he was selected to step into the role, John wasn’t grateful, nor flattered. He only felt dread. The kind that’s so heavy, it’s hard to breathe properly.

He felt stunned and unsure of what to think of it.

“You are kidding, right?” Lemar held John’s hand on his and with the other grabbed the blonde’s shoulder. Lemar shook him in excitement. “You are about to become Captain America!”

“That’s not…” John scratched his forehead. “I don’t know yet.”

“What? Why? Call them now, and tell them you are in. Not the time to play hard to get!”

“Lemar, they are looking for an alpha. That’s partly why they were interested in me.”

Lemar arched an eyebrow. “Like being an omega has ever stopped you.”

John looked at Lemar, arms crossed. He sighed in defeat.

“It’s just, I don’t know, I’m not like a superhero,” John struggled to get the words out as he shrugged. “I don’t have super strength or magic powers. I’m just, I don’t know, me?”

Lemar slapped him on the back. “And that’s exactly why they chose you, John. Because you are you. They need that.”

John rolled his eyes. “Right. Because an omega who fakes being an alpha is exactly what they need.”

“Who gives a shit about that?”

John gave him a look. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Bullshit. You are more than that and you know it.”

John didn’t seem convinced.

“You want to know why they chose you? Because you are a skilled man, who does the right thing and you are damn good at it. The country… no, the world needs somebody like that. Remind me again why you wanted to go to West Point?”

John scratched the back of his ear, pretending he was having a hard time remembering. “I don’t know, just wanted to be helpful.”

“You wanted to dedicate your life to helping and saving others, John. You took that choice and you live by it every day. You have the biggest heart when it comes to others. Hell even in high school you were this scary little shit demon who was hunting down bullies, John Wick style.”

“That’s not… man, you make it sound like it was a big deal.”

“Because it was! Powers or no powers, omega or not, you have always been a hero.” Lemar looked at the horizon as he inhaled deeply. “Truth be told, you changed my life, man. You inspired me to want more. Be more. And I know you could do the same for others.”

John let those words sink in.

After a minute of silence, he asked, “Do you really think I’ll be good for the job?”

“The best out there,” Lemar didn’t skip a beat.

John nodded.

“You know, every good captain needs a trustworthy partner, right?” John asked with a sly look on his face.

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“You have to. You have to, man.”

Lemar grinned at him. “This is like senior year all over again when you wanted me to be co-captain. Fine then! Can’t let you have all the fun anyway.”

John couldn’t admit that he was too terrified to do this alone.

He knew he should be happy, excited. But he wasn’t, not completely. He still pretended to be, though. With Olivia, with Lemar, with anyone who brought it up. He would always make sure he had this big, proud smile on, as he talked about how flattering and fulfilling it felt to be called in to be the next Captain America, how it was like a dream come true.

There was this small voice in his head telling him to run away from it all, like warning signs. But he couldn’t do that. It was his duty now. The country needed someone, and he was willing to give himself away if it meant he could help the people.

Notes:

And bam! Me finally made it to the TFATWS events. I think the next chapter will mainly focus on that. And also omg *spoiler alert* we get alpha bucky! So yeah look forward to that.

Btw I think there are maybe only 3 chapters left before we reach this story’s conclusion and I’m thinking about doing a sequel, but we’ll see.

Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think

Chapter 7

Summary:

John tries to be the best Captain America he can be

Notes:

So yupppp

TFATWS era is officially here

Enjoy!

John began training with the shield as if it were an extension of his body.

It was difficult at first. The weight of that piece of metal didn’t seem that heavy, but it affected everything: from John’s posture to his balance to his reflexes. It made every limb on his body feel off. Like it shouldn’t be there.

John didn’t complain. He kept trying.

He kept practicing until he managed to integrate that shield into his fighting style, like it always was meant to be there. It was a nice change, and John liked it once he got good at it.

But when his advisers came to check out his progress, they didn’t seem to agree.

“Son, it’s great. Real sharp and precise work. But… you don’t really move like Steve Rogers. In general, his presence was more, you know, traditional. Like old school alpha.”

John understood one thing in that moment: they didn’t care if he was capable or not. They only wanted him to fill that huge gap a great hero had left in the world. And how could he do that? Fitting perfectly in it, through all the nooks and crannies. Be that perfect outline to Steve’s shadow. John understood the real mission now. He didn’t like it, but he believed he could still do good with the position he was given. Hell, he was a soldier, that’s what he had been doing his entire life. He was used to operating that way.

‘Listen well now, and you’d be able to do great things later.’

John again didn’t complain. He obeyed.

John spent the next few days analyzing every single piece of footage he could find of Steve Rogers in combat. He took thorough notes of the way he moved, the way he fought, and even the way he led. He found out interesting details, like how his reaction was a second too slow whenever he received an attack directed towards his lower body. Or how remarkable he was when he was working with a team. Of course, Steve was an outstanding soldier on his own, powerful and unstoppable. But when he fought alongside others, it was like he was a force of nature. The others became an extension of himself, working together like one. John wondered if he could ever achieve that.

He kept training, day and night, until he got every single hit, defense, and throw right. Not the same, but it was the closest a mere shadow could get.

——-

The first time he was given the suit, he stared at it for the longest time. Mind somewhere else.

Olivia came from behind, with arms around his waist. “Is everything ok?”

John inhaled deeply before he blinked back into reality. “Yes, just… thinking.

“Good thinking or bad thinking?”

John chuckled. “I don’t know. Both? It could definitely be both, depending on how you see it.

“What is it?” Olivia smiled, a little confused.

“I just… this suit is a sign of hope to the people. Something they can look up to, they feel inspired. To do better. To be better. And I-“ John shook his head as he sighed. “Before this, for a moment I felt like I was getting somewhere, you know? By giving a little bit of a better chance to betas, omegas. And now, it feels like I can’t do that anymore.”

“John…”

“Don’t get me wrong. This suit, this job. I know it’s huge and it’s important work. But I-I just wish there was a world where I could do this and also keep helping with that change I wanted. So people could realize that being an alpha is not the only way to move forward, you know?”

Olivia gave a genuine, confused look. “You are that change. You realize that, right?”

John rolled his eyes. “Olivia, come on.”

“I’m being serious”. She let go of his waist to step in front of him. “You are an omega who was handpicked to be the next Captain America, John. You are moving things just by being you.”

“What good does it do to anyone if everyone just thinks I’m another alpha getting their rightful place, huh?” He couldn’t help but sound bitter at the idea.

Olivia saw something in John as her eyes opened a little bit. She knew him too well. “You want people to know you are an omega.”

John stayed quiet.

“You know you could just come out and say it, right?” She gently rubbed the side of his arm.

“Right,” John huffed. “And lose everything? They would take the suit back, give me a dishonorable discharge, and call it a day. And I wouldn’t even be able to fight it as a discrimination case. I have no legal ground I could stand on, because at the end of the day, I falsified my medical records. I’m as disposable as I can get.”

“Then make yourself non-disposable,” Olivia simply said.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They couldn’t throw you away if you were known by the people. If you were needed by the people. They would have no other choice but to accept what you are.”

“You make it sound so easy. Like I could just put on the suit and suddenly be what Steve Rogers was.” He walked towards the hanging suit in his room and reached for one sleeve, as if its touch would reveal something. “I’m not him. I could never be him.”

“And you don’t have to!” Olivia raised her voice enough to make John look back at her. “Just being you is enough. Doing what you do is enough. Eventually, the world will realize that. Just give it time. Wait and come out clean once you are settled into the role. What do you say, uhm?”

John stared at Olivia, and he couldn’t help but feel hopeful at her determination. The glint in her eyes truly made him believe in that future for him.

“I’d like that very much,” he whispered, feeling his eyes wetting.

“Whatever you choose to do, it will always make me proud,” she gently whispered back, like it was their mischievous little secret.

——-

His first mission as Captain America was to find and detain a group of rebels who were operating in Europe. And as soon as he was assigned, he started feeling like himself again. Being out there in the field, having a clear goal and an order to follow was his element.

After learning that Sam Wilson was after the same group of people, Lemar and John got to work on following his trail. John felt conflicted at the idea of crossing paths with Sam. On one hand, John was aware of the history of the shield he was holding; he knew who Steve wanted to have it. But Sam gave it away, and now it was in John’s hands.

So he understood how it could be an awkward encounter between them: the man who almost was and the man who was.

Despite all that, John still felt a certain thrill at the idea of possibly working side by side with a real, experienced avenger. It made it real. That he was finally stepping into the shoes of the role he was assigned. No more feeling like a prop with a costume, in front of cameras. From now on, it would be about being the hero people expected him to be.

John thought, for a second, maybe it could work out, all of them as a team. But it didn’t. Bucky and Sam didn’t want that, and they made that abundantly clear.

When they were on the way to the airport, sitting on the back of that truck, he felt the animosity. Both of them reeked of unhappy alpha. John closed his fist as he felt his own glands acting up, failing to release appeasing pheromones under John’s patch in response to their sour smell.

John could tell Sam was trying to tone it down. Clearly, to avoid escalating the situation. But Bucky couldn’t care less. His intense pheromones danced freely around him as he stared John down with those cold blue eyes. John didn’t like it. That glare made him restless, his leg bouncing as he grabbed onto his thigh.

And Bucky just wouldn’t stop, not even after John called him out on it. Hell, even after John mentioned it, he started doing it more openly, now leaning in with a smug expression on that stupid face of his. Soaking in the satisfaction of how much it was bothering John.

“Seriously, man, are we having a problem here?” John said, once he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Bucky returned.

And then a gagging scent surrounded them. It was intense and suffocating. John had never smelled anything like it before. It was almost making him dizzy.

“Oh, wow. Tone it down,” Sam warned as he clasped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“This is toned down. Can’t help I got super serum pheromones,” Bucky didn’t even try to look apologetic. His eyes were glued on John, gauging for a reaction, testing him.

John’s jaw locked. He felt the need to grab a needle full of suppressants and inject it into his veins. Even though John’s last heat was a few weeks ago, and that made it close to impossible for Bucky’s pheromones to trigger one in him now.

But Bucky was no regular man.

Lemar nudged John with his shoulder, so he would look at him. The alpha nodded at him, making a question discreetly.

‘Are you okay?’

John gave him a nod back and a pat on his knee in response.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

John looked back up and found the same pair of blue eyes, now looking between the two of them. John didn’t like that he could see Bucky’s cogs turning.

“So, do you always smell like that?” John blatantly asked. Normally it wouldn’t be an appropriate thing to say to someone, especially not the day you’ve met, but it also was an asshole move to bathe strangers in angry alpha stench. So it was safe to assume they were past pleasantries.

“Do you?” Bucky retorted. “Do you always smell like that?”

John’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t supposed to smell like anything. It was impossible. John made sure every day with his thorough routine to not even have a linger of a scent on him.

John rolled back his shoulders, fixed his posture, and fought the need to press his nose into his shoulder to check his own smell.

“Like what?”

“Like shit,” Bucky answered flatly.

John breathed out. He was only being mocked. Nothing else. He should be relieved but he was somewhat pissed off.

“Right.” John rolled his eyes.

As they approached the airport, John tried again to convince them to join forces. Of course, it didn’t work. Sam and Bucky firmly rejected the idea, rejected John.

As they jumped out of the vehicle, John didn’t miss the way Bucky leaned a little too forward when he moved to stand up from his seat, or how his nostrils flared in a deep inhale when he was close to John’s personal bubble. It was only for a second, but John noticed.

Again, John didn’t like it.

——-

John couldn’t understand how he was not getting his point across. They needed to work together; it was the most logical solution. They were outmanned and outgunned; if they went their separate ways, their chances of success decreased exponentially.

It didn’t matter if they didn’t like John. The four of them had a duty, and it was part of the job not to let any personal feeling cloud their judgment. John knew he was right about this, and he thought Sam and Bucky could see it if he was convincing enough. But they just wouldn’t listen. Bucky even mocked him for the passion with which he was trying to make his case.

“Things are very intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

That struck a nerve.

Up to that point, John never took it personally. The aversion, the disdain, all of it was just Sam and Bucky taking a stand against the idea of a stranger, someone they didn’t approve of, replacing their dear friend and taking the torch of his legacy. It didn’t matter who the person was; it was the principle of it. John understood that.

But the omega fought tooth and nail to get where he was standing, even losing many parts of himself in the way. John willingly gave them away because that was what he had to do in order to succeed. Now there was too much at stake, and John couldn’t fail, not after everything.

So, yeah, things were intense for John. And having an alpha belittle him for it? For trying his best? That was personal.

John’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Bucky, with his chest puffed out, his chin held high, and his jaw locked in a perfect display of an alpha who was about to challenge another for dominance.

Bucky reacted similarly, only that he had a certain amusement in his eyes. Like he was pleased that he had finally gotten under John’s skin. That made the blonde even more rattled.

Things didn’t escalate further as Sam moved fast to defuse the situation, as he gave his final stand on the matter: they were going their separate ways.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way,” John warned, voice very low.

His now cold eyes never leaving Bucky.

——

He couldn’t breathe, and his hands were shaking as he paced around the wine cellar.

Sam being out there, alone with Karli, no backup, no serum, no wings; it was too dangerous. If anything were to happen to the man, it would be on John’s, and no one else’s. Because he agreed to it, because he let it happen. He needed to step in and do something.

With heavy steps and determination, he tried to follow into the church, as Bucky stood in his way, with a strong hand against his chest and warning pheromones in the air. A chill ran through John’s whole body as he felt a need to yield, to tilt his head to the side, baring his glands, and accept the commands of the alpha in front of him.

John looked down at those stern fingers stopping him, and he felt…so tired. Because it didn’t matter how much he tried, the conclusion was always the same: he wasn’t enough. Not strong enough, and he would never be alpha enough.

The testament of it was the alpha’s hand that rested on him, the hand that could incapacitate him without breaking a sweat if he chose to, the hand that decided how things were going to go. John was so powerless, and he was just tired of it.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? With all that serum running through that alpha body of yours.”

Bucky didn’t respond to that; he didn’t even blink. But John didn’t miss how he gulped heavily or how his nostrils flared again, maybe trying to read John’s emotions on his scent. But John knew he wouldn’t be able to find anything.

“Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”

John thought for a second in Lemar, if he was the one out there and something happened to him, he wouldn’t know how to forgive himself. John couldn’t understand Bucky’s calmness, and frankly, it even unnerved him.

“Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and something in his scent changed. It was faint and subtle, but it was there: the sharper and shaky smell of fear.

 

——-

Ever since John was little, he had always thought that if he worked hard enough, he could make anything happen. He wasn’t capable enough? He would put his blood, sweat, and tears into developing better skills. Omegas were not given the same opportunities? He could snarl and bite until everyone believed he was an alpha. He wanted to help people? He would put on a uniform and go to fight every war.

Anything was possible if he put his mind to it.

But that wasn’t true. That wasn’t reality. No matter how hard people tried, sometimes it wasn’t enough. Something he wasn’t enough.

And when someone finally comes to that realization. That’s when true desperation happens. The devastating kind.

John felt that way as he held the serum vial in one hand and with the other applied ice to the nasty bruise on his shoulder the Dora Milaje gave him as a present.

——

John gazed at the needle full of blue liquid that was against this pale skin and then looked at Lemar, who was holding it.

“Are you sure, man? This is your last chance to change your mind.”

John let out a shaky breath. “I’m sure. This is it. You said it yourself, I have to think of all the good things I could do with the serum. The people I could help, right?”

Lemar stayed quiet. Every single muscle of his body was tense.

John arched an eyebrow. “Or you don’t think that anymore?”

“John, if someone could do good with this, is you. I meant that.” Lemar lifted the serum and looked at it as if it were a bomb about to explode. “But I… just promise me you’ll be fine.”

“I promise.”

Lemar nodded before he injected the serum into John’s arm. The blond inhaled sharply, almost painfully, when he felt the liquid burn through his veins. John’s free hand reached out to grab Lemar, desperately needing to be anchored.

Lemar stayed there with him through it all: the convulsions, the screaming, the crying. Lemar never let go of John’s hand.

Hours later, John was semi-conscious when the burning within him changed. He felt it first in his neck, his glands pulsating and contracting. A chill ran through his spine as every single muscle in his body went tense with adrenaline. He groaned and scraped the mattress like a feral animal once the tension was too much to handle.

“John?”

The blonde’s bloodshot eyes snapped wide open, wild and confused. Almost as if he had forgotten he wasn’t alone. His eyes were straight on Lemar, but he couldn’t really make out what he was looking at. He sniffed the air in hopes that Lemar's scent would help him find some sense again, but he only got one feeling: aversion. His best friend felt like a threat, like an enemy, like a challenge.

A pained growl scraped his throat, almost damaging his vocal cords.

The suffocating smell of alpha that filled the room was revolting. A scent that wasn’t coming from Lemar. His mind couldn’t yet comprehend, but his body acted on its own accord, as John’s shaky hands reached to his own neck, trying to claw those foreign pheromones off of him before he passed out.

——-

 

After hours of being out cold, John finally woke up. And just felt… wrongness. Something within him was just off. And he didn’t feel any better when he saw what was sitting on top of the nightstand: one used-up, empty needle, next to a box of alpha suppressants for ruts.

When he confronted Lemar about it, he looked as confused and disrupted as him.

“I tried to give you everything to make you calm down. And the only thing that worked was those.” He pointed with a shaky finger at the suppressants. His eyes were red and puffy. “Half a dose and you went back to normal.”

“Lemar. Oh, god,” John’s voice broke on him as he covered his mouth.

“It could be nothing. Just a weird hormonal reaction because of the serum,” Lemar mumbled slowly, his lips tense in a thin line.

“Fuck. I don’t… I- fuck.” John couldn’t speak due to the lump in his throat. “What if it isn’t?”

“Listen, John. You smell perfectly normal now. Vanilla and honey. Nothing it’s changed.”

That didn’t calm him down. John shook his head as he rubbed his forehead.

“And if it turns out to be something, which I highly doubt, we’ll just...” Lemar took the blonde’s hand from his face and clasped it, anchoring John. “Figure it out. Together. You are not alone on this. I promise.”

John's breathing evened out. He nodded before he leaned forward to rest his head on Lemar’s shoulder.

He trusted Lemar.
It was nothing.

 

He would be fine.

——-

Lemar was killed a few hours later that day.
John held his bloody face as he gave his last breath to the world.

 

How could he be fine?

Notes:

Crazy that we finally made it here but yeah

Rip Lemar, it was fun writing you
Kinda sad rn ngl

But heyyyy we finally got Buckyyyy. And yeah, he is a little shit here. And we love him for it hahaha my ragebaiter #1

Also yesterday I finally rewatched Thunderbolts for the first time since it came out. And let me tell you I took sooo many notes about John.
I’m about to be unstoppable with those character studies. Pen on fire let me tell you.

Chapter 8

Summary:

The aftermath of the incident.

Notes:

Hellooo

I think this is an interesting one, so enjoyyyy

Omegas and alphas were opposite sides of the same coin.

If an omega’s defense mechanism, when in imminent danger, was a hormonal shutdown to prevent enticing any predator via scent, alphas were on the other end of the spectrum. Their response to the need for survival was not to hide and wait for their enemy to leave. No, alphas had the instinct to defend, fight, and eliminate; their bodies even produced disproportionate amounts of pheromones to assert dominance during the altercation. This violent reaction often forced their bodies into a rut.

It was funny. When omegas feared for their lives, they were unable to have their cycle, but alphas, put in a similar position, were triggered into them.

Alpha or omega. Fight or flight. Opposite sides that couldn’t be farther apart. Nothing in between.

 

Right?

——-

John's ears were ringing so loudly that the only thing he could hear was the sound of his shaky breathing.

Everything happened so fast.

One moment, Lemar was alongside him, and the next he was being pushed away into a—

Then, the disturbing sound of bone cracking.

And he—

Everything was out of control after that. John was out of control.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t stop. Not until the shield he was carrying was drenched in blood and he was surrounded by people pointing their flashing phones at him. Watching in horror.

He couldn’t stand it. So he ran. As fast as he could.

And only when he was alone, he let himself fall to his knees. The crushing feeling of terror and loss overtook him. Just a moment ago, John was pure rage and revenge, and now, he was nothing.

When Sam and Bucky walked into the warehouse, he tried to pull himself together.

He needed to be strong. Calm. Collected.

He straightened his back, rolled back his shoulders, and let out a sharp exhale through the nose. The old habit of hiding his most shameful parts from the world was too engraved in him; not even Lemar’s death would let him overcome it now.

He wasn’t expecting kindness from the two of them. But foolishly enough, he craved understanding. He needed to be told that he did what he had to, that there was no other way. It was pathetic how, in a situation like that, he still was seeking validation. Reassurance. A strong hand to hold him and tell him he was still a good person and that everything would be fine, because he wasn’t alone. He just needed someone.

He needed Lemar—

“You need to calm down,” Sam tried to appease John. “You smell that? That’s you going into a cycle. Probably a triggered one. You weren’t thinking straight, alright? Just the hormones messing with you.”

John stilled, eyes on the ground. His heart dropped.

That couldn’t be true. He didn’t feel like he was going into heat. No weakness, no slick. No, it was impossible. But then his eyes glanced at them. He saw Sam’s scrunched-up nose and dark eyes blinking rapidly, as if John’s scent was burning his every sense. And then there was Bucky, who had already taken a step back, fully covering his nose and mouth with his hand. Every muscle tight with restraint. Eyes intensely burning on John, like a hunter looking at its prey.

He assessed his symptoms and recognized an uncomfortable hotness running through his body and pooling in his stomach. His body was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was shaken and uneven, like it would usually be during heats. The familiar chills were more like a vibration running through his tense muscles.

How didn’t he realize earlier?

“Listen, we are going to get you some suppressants, and then you can explain what happened. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam continued, voice solid. Grounding. If he was surprised by the fact that John was an omega, he didn’t show it.

John considered Sam’s words. He really did. Especially when he felt the last sentence could be extended to him.

He didn’t want to keep getting hurt anymore.

But reality came crashing down when Sam told him to give him the shield. The alphas in front of him didn’t care about him, didn’t want to help a distressed omega, didn’t care what had happened to Lemar. No, they only wanted the shield. Nothing else.

And he didn’t want to give it up. He couldn’t. Because that would be accepting that it didn’t belong to him, and it was never meant to be his. That John was never good enough for it. That Lemar was wrong all along, and everything had been for nothing.

What happened to Lemar had been for nothing?

No, he couldn’t give away the shield willingly. He was done with giving things away willingly

Everything suddenly became too much. The voice inside his head telling him to attack, the blood boiling in his body, the wary looks Bucky and Sam were sharing, and that sickening smell of enraged alpha that filled the air. He hated it.

And when the fight broke out, neither of the alphas pulled back their punches. If they were hesitant to go against an omega in heat, they didn’t show it. And John was grateful because every fiber of his body craved that violence. Needed it like it was air to breathe.

Eventually, Bucky had him pinned down by the arm while Sam tried with all his strength to rip the shield from his grasp. The super soldier in front of him growled and bared his teeth, trying to force John into submission. His dominant pheromones burned the blonde’s nostrils. It was a clear message:

Let go. Now. Last chance.

And for the first time in his life, John snarled and growled back, actually meaning it, doing it with his whole chest. Like it was his nature. And not only that, his mind took it a step further by fantasizing about ripping Bucky’s glands off his neck with his own teeth and having a taste of his blood. The craving for his flavor made John salivate.

A terrible pain and a snapping sound brought him back to reality. He roared like a wounded animal but still stood up as his numbed arm dangled from his body, unable to move it anymore. He swallowed that pain down as he approached again to attack. His body was fueled only by the burning sensation running through his veins.

Bucky blocked his lead hook effortlessly and took hold of that arm. His metal hand reached for the back of John’s neck, pulling him even closer with a firm grip. Bucky again growled on his face, demanding his surrender. But this time, he inched closer to his glands and stilled for a moment, eyes fixated on something there. Bucky’s flesh hand finally let go of his arm, only to rip John’s patch from his neck. He threw the medical device with distaste, as if it were an offense that it was even there to begin with. John got chills from having his glands completely exposed.

John should have been scared. He was an omega in heat, and Bucky was a mad alpha inching dangerously close towards his glands. Bucky could easily bite mark him if he wanted to. That thought alone should have been enough to make the omega surrender. To bare his neck and beg for forgiveness.

But John didn’t feel fear. Only rage.

So, when he felt the alpha’s breath brush against his glands, he used his chin to strike Bucky’s head. John tried to fight his grip on him, as he used all his strength for a final try. Bucky didn’t entertain that, as he landed the finishing blow across the blonde’s face. And after that, there wasn’t much more John could do.

The fight was pretty much over.

 

John was alone, lying on his back, with no shield and a broken arm, devastated and defeated, just having a hard time breathing.

Bucky and Sam were long gone, and they had taken their personal stench with them, but the smell of distressed alpha was still very much present. Everywhere around him, gagging him and making his eyes water.

And that’s when he realized that he couldn’t smell any of his vanilla with honey scent. Not before, not now. Not a single omega pheromone in the air.

There was never a heat.

Only the disgusting scent of a triggered rut.

And it was coming from him. From his own glands. It had always been him.

And that was his last thought before fading into unconsciousness.

——

John looked at the podium in front of him as they declared he was going to be stripped of the title and authority as Captain America. Effective immediately.

“Senator, uh, permission to present to the council testimony as to the circumstances of the incident.” John leaned his weight from one foot to the other. Head down. Voice low and tired.

John was very tired.

“Circumstances of the incident have been considered. It’s only because of your previous exemplary service to this country that I’m recommending against a court martial,” the senator declared, not even sparing a glance.

John cleared his throat. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation fully, thereby have misunderstood the circumstances.”

“Misunderstood?” The senator finally looked at him. “Did you or did you not engage in battle under the effects of a rut?”

“Technically yes, but—“

“And I assume you understand the reason why alpha soldiers must report when they are experiencing any symptom of rut and then take a mandatory medical leave, right?” He looked down at the papers he had in his hand. “Given the fact that according to your records, you have been a soldier for 18 years, from which you have been a presented alpha for… 17 of them.”

“I understand why. I know alphas get unpredictable and extremely violent when threatened during a cycle. But I was… unaware that I was under the symptoms, sir.”

Even then, John was still unsure if he could call what happened to his body that day a rut. He struggled to even say that word.

“Unaware, huh? You mean you got triggered into having a rut during the incident?” He arched his brow. “That’s hard to believe. Especially, when the authorities found an empty vial of rut suppressants in the hotel room you were staying at the night before. You are saying you didn’t use them?”

John hesitated for a second. “No, I-I did use them a few hours before, but—“

“You used them before,” the senator interrupted John once again, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “So, it wasn’t a triggered rut. You knew before the incident that you at least had the symptoms of a rut and willingly decided to engage, putting in risk everyone around you.”

“I assure you, there’s more to the story, if you just—“

“This is not a negotiation.”

“I understand that—“

“This is a mandate.”

John understood. How could he not when, for the majority of his life, he had breathed, sweated, and bled for those mandates? He gave everything for those mandates. He even erased part of himself for them; whatever they deemed useless, he got rid of without a second thought. He was the person he was because that’s what was commanded of him.

That’s what he was trained to do. To comply. To act as instructed. And he was damn good at it.

Be a strong alpha.
Be an obedient soldier.
Be a dutiful Captain America.

He did it all. He was that perfect, dangerous tool under some else’s grasp they designed him to be.

He couldn’t understand how they could dare just turn around now and look at him, horrified at his sight. Pretending they weren’t the ones who had sharpened the knife. The ones that built him.

John said as much, as he screamed in a broken voice and slammed his hand multiple times against the lectern. But no one cared.

They never did.

John walked out as he was stripped of everything: his career, his reputation, his honor.

It was ridiculous looking back. All his life, he ran so hard from this moment only to circle back and fall headfirst into it.

All that effort for nothing.

 

——

He sat there, outside the courtroom, breathing in and breathing out. Olivia shortly came running and sat next to him. She rested one hand on his back and the other on his arm. Just holding him. Strong and steady. John didn’t have the energy to react, but he silently leaned into it.

“John, what is all that about you going on a rut? There has to be some mistake, right?” Olivia asked after a few minutes, her tone unsettled.

John looked at her and blinked really slowly. Without saying a single word, his hand went for his patch and ripped it from his neck. Olivia’s eyes widened in panic, as she almost reached to stop him or maybe to cover his glands. Just reflexes developed from years of practice.

“What are you doing?” She hissed in a whisper as she looked at both sides of the empty hallway.

John didn’t answer again. He only leaned towards her, pulling the neck of his dress uniform down.

“What do I smell like?” His voice didn’t sound like his. It was low and with a strange cadence.

Olivia hesitated before he rested her nose against his gland and inhaled deeply.

“You smell upset, John,” she grimly concluded. “Like sour vanilla and honey.”

“Nothing else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything out of place, Olivia. Anything that shouldn’t be there. A scent that isn’t mine.”

“I’m not sure I understand… but no. Nothing like that.”

He nodded. Fingers worked to put the patch perfectly back in its place. Eyes just looking into the distance.

“What is the issue, John?” She sounded terrified at this point.

He turned his head to her and almost mechanically said, “I’m fine.”

His scent was vanilla and honey. That’s it. He was an omega. Nothing else.

He had lost so much. But not that.

John was still John.

——

John couldn’t go to Lemar’s funeral. After the incident, he had been detained while he waited for the investigation into his case and the preceding hearing to be over. But soon enough, he was free to go back home to finally face the real aftermath.

Visiting Lemar's parents was devastating. Having to look them in the eye and recount the way their son lost his life was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. But he did it. He swallowed everything down, and he just talked, mostly to answer their every question. He didn’t cry, he didn’t let his voice break down, and he didn’t let his eyes drop a tear. This wasn’t his moment. Only theirs. It was theirs to grieve, to hurt, to process. The least John could do was not take that away from them.

He had already taken too much.

Seeing the family's empty, broken eyes, John could only feel ashamed. Ashamed that he was there, standing, alive and breathing, in front of them, while Lemar was six feet underground. Ashamed that he had spent years proclaiming his purpose in life was to help others, but he couldn’t save his best friend, not even when the serum was running through his veins. Ashamed that he hadn't been the one to receive that finishing blow.

Why Lemar? He was always the better of the two.

Why Lemar? It should’ve been John.

Why Lemar?

Why, why, why.

John wasn’t able to wrap his head around it. And maybe he would never be able to. Because how could any of it make sense? One moment, Lemar was promising him they would figure it out together, and the next, he was lying bleeding out on the ground, dying in his arms. Where is the fucking sense in any that? Huh?

Notes:

It was super fun to write an a/b/o version of the Bucky/Sam vs John fight. The way Bucky grabbed John by the neck in the show haunts me ngl

But anyway

Hope you liked this one!

Chapter 9

Summary:

John notices changes in himself, and eventually finds out why.

Notes:

Uhmm

trigger warning for non con body modifications.

And also for a lot of fake science stuff

:)

And again! Sorry for the shit grammar

John started checking at every opportunity for his scent. He would discreetly remove his patch and smell the air to see if the vanilla and honey were still there. He sighed in relief every time he didn’t find any strange pheromone secreted from his glands.

Frankly, sometimes he even thought he had hallucinated the whole ordeal. It wouldn’t be strange. He wasn’t in his right mind at the time, and that was a fact. What sense did it make for an omega to smell like an alpha, even if it was momentarily? Let alone smell like an alpha in rut? No, impossible.

But then he remembered how he had felt, how he had fought, and how Sam and Bucky had reacted to him. That wasn’t the behavior two alphas and an omega had during a tense situation. No, not at all. Those three acted like alphas battling it out for dominance and power, snarling and growling like they had gone feral.

John shoved that thought away.

——

Helping apprehend the flag smashers made John feel lighter. Just a tiny bit. It wasn’t closure, nor absolution. But at least John was able to accomplish the last mission he and Lemar had set out to do.

Their last mission as partners.

And he did it well.

He didn’t let anger take over, and he didn’t hurt anyone, even if he was tempted. John did what Lemar would’ve wanted him to do. Because that’s the kind of respect he deserved.

 

After that part of the job was done, John walked next to Bucky. Just following a little behind. Not because he was particularly searching for his company, but because he wanted to stick around. He needed to see the ending of this whole thing with Karli and Sam. And wherever Bucky went, Sam eventually would follow.

Surprisingly, there wasn’t much animosity between John and Bucky. There was tension. A lot of it. The kind you have with someone after a nasty disagreement in which both parties separately agree to let it go, but do not apologize for it.

And Bucky and John weren’t close enough for apologies. Not that John thought he was owed one anyway.

Bucky did what he had to, and so did John. And that was that.

 

They both made it to the main street, where most of the havoc was happening. Then, Bucky beelined to one of the multiple parked ambulances, and John followed.

“Excuse me, could you do a quick checkup?” Bucky asked the lady paramedic.

If Bucky got hurt, John didn’t notice.

After she agreed, she urged Bucky to sit on the back of the open ambulance.

“It’s for this guy.” Bucky pointed behind him.

John looked around. What guy?

And even when Bucky gave him a look and the lady guided John down to sit, he was still confused, his eyes moving between the paramedic and Bucky.

“I’m fine,” John said. “I don’t need it.”

Bucky ignored him.

"Could you check for any symptoms of a triggered rut?” Bucky requested her.

John closed his eyes as he exhaled a frustrated breath. Of course, it was that.

“I said I’m fine,” John repeated, but didn’t try to stand up.

“And that’s probably what you thought last time, right?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at him.

John didn’t answer.

“Yeah, not risking it.”

John held his gaze for a moment before he rolled his eyes and shook his head. He even slumped on his seat to make a point of how much he disagreed with it.

The paramedic checked for a quickened pulse, dilated pupils, and profuse sweating. She couldn’t find anything. John cooperated for all of it, until her hand reached out to remove his patch to check his scent. That’s when he stood up, fast and sudden.

It was more a reflex than anything else.

Logically speaking, what could be the consequences of these two finding out he smelled like an omega? There weren’t high stakes on that secret anymore. He shouldn’t care that much.

But he did.

He couldn’t help but feel like it was a big deal. Something that shouldn’t be revealed in such a trivial way. Something that should only come out of his own mouth when he felt ready to.

“Everything else came out clean, right? So, I guess we are done here.” John tried to sound casual about it. His hand couldn’t stop tapping his thigh, though.

Thankfully, she agreed.

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he stared at John, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What, now?” John asked, hoping annoyance would hide his nerves.

“You know, Walker. Your smell now is way worse than your deranged alpha in rut smell that you had in the warehouse.”

“Excuse me?” He huffed.

John thought for a second about how Bucky had removed his patch during their fight. Such an unnecessary thing to do.

But he still did it.

“For how long are you going to keep the you-smell-like-shit bit going for?” The blonde asked.

“Oh, it’s not a bit.”

“Well, then it’s a lie. Because I know I don’t smell like anything.”

“Exactly. It’s annoying. And unsettling,” Bucky said, voice even.

“It’s not,” John defended himself. “It’s nice. Clean.”

“It’s suspicious,” he stated.

John opened his mouth and then closed it. His body went really tense.

“Hell, when we first met, it made me think you were an—“ Bucky must’ve caught something in John's face. He simply stopped mid-phrase as he really watched him for a moment, before sighing. “Forget it.”

“No. What is it?” John even inched even closer. As if Bucky’s next words were a matter of life or death. “What were you going to say?”

“I said forget it.”

Bucky walked away from him a few steps before he suddenly stopped in his tracks, and when John looked his way, he could see why.

In the middle of the street, Sam was approaching close with Karli’s lifeless body between his arms. Despite everything that happened, John could only think about one thing: how young she seemed. She was a kid who did unforgivable things in the name of good. John had been on that path too many times himself, and recently too. However, he was an adult, so what excuse did he really have?

After everything was over and the crowd started cheering with Sam’s speech, John took a moment to really look at the man. The suit, the shield, the demeanor of a leader; all of it fit Sam in a way that could never fit John.

Yeah, John could tell he was going to be great Captain America.

Unlike him.

 

——-

 

The changes in John’s body crept up on him, real slow but steady, two weeks after that.

First, it started with his scent. It wasn’t a dramatic shift and more like a lessening. His scent just weakened one day, subtly, barely noticeable. John didn’t think any of it. But as time went by, it got worse and worse. The vanilla and honey were fading into almost nothing.

Then, small things began to change in his behavior. He became too protective, territorial even. About his space, about his things, about Olivia. She would look at him funny whenever he tried following her around, acting like her personal bodyguard for no reason. She didn’t understand it. John couldn’t either.

The mood swings were bad, too. He would just get so angry out of nowhere, for the stupidest reasons, too. He needed to lock himself in the bathroom to calm himself every time. Just breathing in and breathing out.

John told himself the symptoms would eventually pass, that it was only stress. After all, John had a lot on his plate, so it was normal for his body to act up now. Nothing to freak out about.

It was fine.

But it wasn’t.

The true horror came when one day, during a thorough shower, he felt something was not right. Specifically, between his legs. The area around the base of his shaft was different. It was a minimal change. But John was a perfectionist, neat freak who could spot whenever he had a hair out of place on his head. So, of course, he noticed when the skin there had gotten a little bit looser. As if now it had space for something to expand there at any given moment. As if it were a…

His hands let go of himself in panic. And he didn’t have the guts to look at that area anymore, getting himself clothed as fast as he could.

He didn’t talk about any of these changes with Olivia, and whenever she got suspicious about his behavior, he would come up with a quick excuse or a great deflection joke.

 

——

When he got his new job with Valentina, John felt hopeful that things could change. Because he still had a future and a place somewhere, where he could still do good. And maybe atone for his sins. Valentina had assured him of that, and he believed her.

 

But then he started actually working for her.

He told himself the same bullshit that he used for coping all his life: do well now, great things are to come.

Everyone had to start somewhere. And shadow ops were John’s start. Retrieve and eliminate. Rinse and repeat. That was it. For now. Or that’s what he told himself. He convinced himself the missions would eventually change for the better. Yeah, eventually.

It made it easier to be in denial.

He didn’t know the nature of the information he was stealing. He didn’t know the targets he was sent to eliminate, beyond their name and picture. John never asked questions or for specifics about his missions. He was trained not to. The only thing he could do was to believe he was doing the right thing, because that’s what he was told.

John was too familiar with being some else’s weapon, he even found comfort in the job. Not the kind someone feels with being content.

No, definitely not that.

It was more the comfort that came with dancing an old tune you were painfully familiar with. It was a rhythm his body could follow along absentmindedly.

It was conflicting, feeling something was not right, but still lean into it. Even search for it.

But you can hate a song and still know every word in it. And this specific one was engraved in John’s brain, playing nonstop.

——

The burning sensation on his glands came out of nowhere one day. It wasn’t subtle or withstandable. It was the kind of sudden pain that would make someone growl and wrench. And John did, falling over in the middle of their kitchen.

Olivia soon was by his side, grabbing him by the shoulders, checking for injuries with panic in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, John?” She grabbed his face, as his eyes were already having trouble focusing. “Why do you smell like that?! What is going on?”

That’s when his mind started jumping in and out of consciousness. One moment, Olivia was shaking him as she screamed his name; the next moment, he was being manhandled by the paramedics. And by the time he opened his eyes again, he was already in a hospital bed. In there, the only thing his senses could register was the smell of alpha coming from him. Nothing else.

Oliva rushed to his side when a groan came out of his mouth. She checked on him, asking him a million times if he was okay. He said he was, even though he wasn’t sure.

“John, please tell me what’s happening,” she begged, voice breaking.

And John did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that?

So, he finally told her everything. About the reaction the serum had on him, the very same night he took it, how his scent momentarily changed after Lemar was killed, how his body had been morphing for the past 2 months since it happened.

Olivia held his hand as he explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

John shrugged, lips tight in a line, and with a really quiet voice, he said, “Saying it made it real.”

Olivia nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“I know,” she whispered. Her arms embraced him, and he just leaned into that hug. John hoped that her beta scent could erase whatever new scent was now coming out of his glands. “Don’t worry, John. The doctors are going to fix whatever the serum did. You are going to be back to normal in no time.”

John wanted to believe that.

——

After explaining his situation to the doctors, they performed on him every possible test. And once that was over, John only needed to wait. Wait for answers.

A week later, John and Olivia walked into the endocrinologist’s office. Both were so nervous they were sweating bullets.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Castillo, and I’ll be in charge of your case,” he introduced himself. “So, John F. Walker. Tell me, how have you been feeling lately?”

John hesitated to answer; he looked at Olivia, and she gave him a secure nod. “Good. I mean, I still have all the, huh, symptoms we discussed before. But my glands don’t hurt anymore, and my omega scent came back, faint, but yeah, it’s something.”

“Great. I’m glad to hear that.” The doctor opened a file and spread the papers on his desk. “Well, the lab already sent the results from your test. And as we suspected, all that’s happening to your body is due to a sudden hypersecretion of alpha hormones, caused by the serum. Most likely to give you more ‘alpha qualities’ that are related to physical attributes. You know, like strength.”

“Can the serum do that? Just create completely different hormones from your designation?” Olivia asked.

“Well, it’s not creating them from thin air. Most people aren’t aware of this, but it’s not strange for someone to have more than one designation gene in their genetic information. This leads to the ability to produce other hormones apart from the ones that align with your gender. In really small quantities, of course. Almost untraceable.”

“The serum is supposed to amplify everything. But even this?” John said.

“Yes.” Castillo pulled a paper from another folder, and he pointed with his finger to some data that John didn’t understand. “Which, from what I can see on your medical record from when you first got tested for your designation, you already had a pretty high level of alpha hormones pumping through your body.”

“What?” John muttered, confused.

“Yeah, apparently you had a percentage of 13% for alpha hormones. And to put it in perspective, omegas with dormant alpha genes normally range between 0.5 to 2%. That would explain a lot of your alpha-like qualities. You know, tall, broad shoulders, strong built, etc.”

John blinked multiple times. “Oh.”

“And I guess that’s the reason your body is adapting so fast and successfully to this new development. It was somewhat already used to operating under that hormone.”

Olivia scuffed as she crossed her arms. “You called this successful? Passing out while screaming in pain?”

“Yeah, I call it exactly that, Miss Walker,” he reaffirmed. He closed his folders, and his expression turned somewhat grim. “Without the super-healing the serum provided, it would’ve been impossible for your husband to survive such a radical change of hormones.”

John and Olivia shared a concerned look for a moment.

“Alright. I’m not dying. Great,” John said, using sarcasm to ease the moment for him. “But what now? What does this information mean for me, for my life?”

“Well, right now your body is adapting to these hormones, like going through another puberty, but an alpha puberty. It’s preparing you to eventually present as one.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” John waved both of his hands. “Are you saying I’m going to be an alpha? Like with ruts and everything?”

“That's what everything points to, yeah.”

Olivia almost stood up from her chair, her eyes wild and her mouth opened in what looked like horror. “That's impossible. No way. No way! That is not going to happen.”

“Ms. Walker, it is already happening,” the doctor said to Olivia before looking again at John. “Remember the incident you told me about? How did your body react to what happened to your friend?”

John stilled for a second. His throat went completely dry. “That— that was an actual rut?”

“An echo of one at least. Normally, alphas get triggered into a forced rut if they are in extreme physical danger. But it wouldn’t be strange for intense emotional distress to cause a similar reaction. Your body wasn’t ready yet for a rut; therefore, you went through something similar but not to its full extent.”

John wanted to scream.

“So this is it? I’m just going to lose my omega traits and start getting ruts and act like a stupid alpha, growling around for life?!” He asked, voice agitated and rugged.

“Not exactly. Your body spent years developing omega characteristics, and no amount of alpha hormones will ever fully change that. Your dominant designation gene is still omega. The serum didn’t change your DNA; it just boosted the amount of alpha hormone secretion. So, basically, you have these two opposite hormonal sides trying to coexist in synergy within your system.” He interlaced his hands to represent them working together.

“What does that even mean?”

“Well, we will have to keep you under observation to see, but so far it appears, depending on the situation, your system leans to whichever designation is more appropriate in that moment, which is quite incredible. That’s how your pheromones jump from alpha to omega. The body is a wonderful, adaptable thing, right?”

“Wonderful. Yeah. Sure.” John leaned forward, rubbing his hands against his face. An exasperated breath escaped his mouth. “Gosh, I’m a freak now.”

Olivia pulled her chair forward, getting closer to Dr. Castillo.

“There must be something we could do, right? Anything. Medicine? a treatment?” Her voice was shaky, full of desperation.

“Listen, I have treated multiple patients struggling with hypersecretion of hormones. But this is the most severe case I’ve ever encountered. My recommendation would be to do hormone therapy. That way, we could hopefully suppress one designation and let the other naturally take over. So you wouldn’t have to live a life where you are stuck in the middle of two genders.”

Olivia’s whole body straightened as her eyes lit up with hope. “So, John would be able to go back to normal? Just be an omega and nothing else?”

The doctor hesitated to answer. “Uh, sorry. No, I meant we could suppress his omega side. The serum is too strong to fight its effects. Trying to suppress the alpha hormones would be fighting a losing battle.”

John and Olivia shared a devastated look.

“But it’s great news, right? Think about how lucky you are, getting to be an alpha. A lot of omegas would love to be in your position right now,” the doctor half-smiled, with a cheery tone in his voice.

“A privilege?” Olivia’s voice trembled. “How could you say that? Who would want something like this to happen to them?”

“Miss Walker, this may be hard to understand, for a beta like yourself. But being an alpha it’s a privilege. Sorry to break it to you, but that’s how the world works,” he answered calmly, voice bordering on a condescending tone.

“A beta like me?” She huffed an outraged breath out as she stood up from her chair. “What are you even trying to…”

John also got up, with his fists clenched, and quickly stepped between them.

“We’ve heard enough. It’s time for us to go.” He gently nudged Olivia with a hand on her back to turn towards the door, as they shared a look between them. She nodded, exhaling a long breath, trying to calm herself.

Once Olivia walked out, John whispered for her to wait there before turning back inside and closing the door. He walked towards the desk where the doctor was sitting, and he leaned forward, hands on its surface. He didn’t want to show it in front of Olivia, but John was pissed.

“Doctor, word of advice: don’t talk to my wife that way. Ever. For your own good,” John said in a low tone.

He looked baffled, and then the man cracked a smile. “Ok, this is just your alpha hormones talking. So, don’t get too excited on me.”

John smiled back, but with coldness in his eyes. Then, he reached for his own neck and removed the patch there, letting the room be filled with the smell of omega scent. John just wanted to prove a point.

“If I were under the effects of alpha hormones right now, I would’ve already knocked the sense out of you,” John stated as a matter of fact. “This is just me. John. The veteran omega. So fall in line or I’ll make you, doc.”

His eyes narrowed on John, probably wondering if he was bluffing. Eventually, he raised both of his hands in surrender. “Ok. I understand. I meant no disrespect. Sorry.”

John, satisfied, turned to walk towards the door.

“Now let me give you some advice myself. Think about the treatment, alright?”

John stopped and gave him a bitter look. “So I can have the beautiful privilege of fully being an alpha like you?”

“So, you can have a decent life.” He corrected, tone suddenly genuine. “People can be averse to things that they don’t understand or don’t fit. I’ve seen it firsthand with my patients. Living like that, I wouldn’t call it life. I don’t want that to happen to you. So yeah, have that in mind when you make your choice.”

“Sure, whatever,” muttered, voice tired.

“And to clear the air, I’m an omega too. So, believe me, I feel for you. Whatever you need, my door is always open.”

John looked at him, perplexed, but didn’t say anything. He only nodded before leaving.

Notes:

Yup believe it or not, next chapter is the last one of this part of the story.

And yes I will write a sequel focused on the thunderbolts

Chapter 10

Notes:

Well wow we really made it here

I cannot believe it

Anyways enjoy

Remember I have terrible grammar, you have been warned

After making it back home, John and Olivia didn’t say a word. They just sat in the living room, in complete silence. Letting the devastation finally sink in.

Whenever they were going through something difficult, Olivia always reached for John first. It was like a knee-jerk reaction; quick and organic. No matter what, she would try to ease the moment for him with a gentle touch or comforting words.

This time, she didn’t reach for him. There were no gentle hands or comforting words—only empty eyes looking into the distance.

John didn’t reach out for her either.

How could he find the strength to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay when they both knew they were standing over the edge, looking at the abyss with no way out?

 

Olivia stayed in that dismayed state for a few days. She pretended she was not, though. But John knew her very well. Even if she tried to keep herself busy, John noticed every time she went really still, her eyes turning lost in the middle of chores and other activities. It was almost as if she was receiving the terrible news over and over again.

It was the first time in his life that John had seen her like that. Olivia had always been this immutable being. Nothing could ever seem to bring her down, harm her, or even stop her.

Except this.

The thing that finally did it for her, that was too much, was this?

What was John supposed to do with that?

That thought took John to a really dark place. If she was this unhappy with just learning about John’s future designation status, how miserable will she be once it actually becomes their reality? When all the effects have taken full control of his body, how could Olivia be able to look at him and stand being by his side?

That was the biggest reason for John’s despair in this whole situation.

 

------

John was fiddling with his food with his fork in the middle of having dinner. Just thinking. Or more like spiraling.

He reached for his glass of water, but didn’t lift it. He just held it, tapping one finger on it.

His eyes glanced up for a second at Olivia, who was sitting in front of him, and then looked down. He nervously repeated that action multiple times.

John coughed. “So, I’ve been thinking about, huh, everything, you know, the alpha hormones and, like, the treatment—“

Olivia stilled mid-bite, fork in the air. “Yeah?”

John nodded. “You haven’t?”

“Not really,” she said fast with a tight voice. Her eyes blinked too many times, as if she was startled by the question. “I mean, what is even there to think about? The treatment he suggested was ridiculous. And, I don’t trust him at all. With that condescending attitude? No. We will find you a better doctor; he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

John stayed quiet.

“Yeah. That’s what we will do.” She mumbled absentmindedly. Her tongue was pushing against the side of her cheek, like she would do when she was getting upset. “I still can’t believe he said that about you becoming a full alpha with a treatment. You are an omega. You being an alpha is…”

Denial was something John was very familiar with. It was nothing more than a mere protection from an unacceptable reality. From John’s reality.

The distaste in Olivia’s face was spine-chilling.
John was scared of that aversion she had for the thing his body would eventually turn into. And there was no denying it, the idea of being hated by her terrified him more than the changes within himself.

And John didn’t react well to fear.

“I don’t know Olivia. Maybe, the treatment is the right move for me,” John said, tone daring and eyes gauging for a reaction.

He didn’t believe that. And he knew it was an unfair thing to do; to test your loved one. But John needed to see the extent of Olivia’s hate. It was like teasing an animal only to see how much the bite will hurt.

“How could you say that? We are talking about converting you to an alpha! You couldn’t possibly want to be… that,” Olivia sounded almost desperate.

“What difference does it make if I take it or not? Huh?” he asked harshly. “These alpha hormones are not going anywhere, Olivia. Whether I take the treatment or not, my body is going to keep changing! There’s nothing I can do!”

She went quiet for a second before resuming eating. Her eyes were fixed on her plate.

“We will keep looking. We’ll go to other doctors, look for other options. We are not going to let it happen,” she mumbled quietly.

John felt for her. He really did. It was heartbreaking seeing her like that.

“You keep saying that, but that doctor is the best one in our city for hormone-related cases,” he explained more gently this time, his hand reaching for hers. “There are no other options, Olivia, this is it.”

“No!” She screeched in a broken voice as she ripped her hand away from John’s touch. Almost like a little girl throwing a tantrum.

John felt something between pain and bewilderment as he took his hand back.

There was a long silence; both of them letting the emotions of the moment sink in.

John leaned back on his seat and stared into de distance.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he mumbled, voice hoarse. A small grin formed on his face with that memory. “You were wearing this flowy flower dress. And I remember thinking you were so intimidating. I could barely speak, that's how nervous you made me. But it didn’t matter. I still knew you were the one since the moment I met you.”

“Me too, John.”

“That’s just… not true,” he said. He bit his lip as he shook his head. “You didn’t want anything to do with me because you thought I was an alpha. You’ve never liked alphas or anything related to them. Not then, not now.”

“But you are an omega!”

“I am an omega,” John agreed. “But what if I was something else too, huh?”

John only wanted to hear that it didn’t matter if his body was changing. That nothing will ever change between them. That they will be fine. No matter what.

But Olivia stayed quiet, eyes on the floor.

No answer.

“Wow,” he let out in a shaky breath, slumping into his chair. His eyes immediately filled with tears, and he had to look down as he sniffed them away. “Got it. I- yeah, huh, understood.”

Olivia finally looked up as she shook her head.

“No, no. I love you, John.”

For now, he thought. Only for now.

“We will be fine,” she assured with a tight smile on her face.

But it was too late.

“I don’t see how,” John muttered lowly.

He stood up, grabbed his jacket and his keys.

“Where are you going?!”

He didn’t answer as he walked out.

——

John drove mindlessly in the middle of the night. It was around 3 in the morning when he parked outside of Lemar’s house. He didn’t mean to. His body had just naturally brought him there.

When they were teens, John would show up there unannounced every time he was feeling upset. Lemar was always great at giving advice, mostly because he was so casual about everything. Not a single problem seemed big in his eyes. John liked that about him very much.

But Lemar wasn’t there anymore.

John sat there in his car in complete silence until the clock hit 6 am. He didn’t want to be seen by Lemar’s family, so he left before they were up and about. The last thing they needed was to have to interact with the guy responsible for their son’s death.

He drove around some more until he eventually arrived at the cemetery. It was part of his routine to visit his mother's grave every couple of months, but John had not done so lately.

John wanted to say it was because of how hectic everything had been, but that was a lie. John knew he hadn’t because of shame.

And he felt so much of it when he stood in front of her mom’s tombstone. He had no words. What could he possibly say after everything that had happened? After everything he had done? He had single-handedly ruined his life with every single wrong decision he had made. He had lost so much. And he just kept losing.

“I knew I’d find you here,” someone said behind him.

That startled John more than it should’ve, making him jump. He turned around just to find the very person he was the most scared to face, Mrs. Hoskins.

John gulped. “How did you—?”

“Oh, the neighborhood likes to talk. Did you really think you could park suspiciously outside my house for hours in the middle of the night and I wouldn’t hear about it?” Her voice was light, humorous even.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I shouldn’t have done that,” he apologized, flustered from being caught.

“That’s nonsense.” She waved a dismissive hand. “The only thing you should apologize for is not knocking on the door.”

John tried to smile, but it felt wrong on his face. She had always been a kind woman. And John didn’t deserve any of it.

“You know, your mom was a ball of energy,” she said with a small smile on her face as she looked at her grave.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“There was this one time when I was taking care of her, she made me dance. Out of nowhere! She said: ‘I’m bored. So dance with me, will you?’ How could I say no to that?” She laughed as she recounted the events. “She couldn’t stand up, but that woman was moving her hands side to side like there was no tomorrow.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Your mom always had this great positive outlook on life. No matter what,” she said quietly now. John noticed the tone shift. There wasn’t humor in her voice anymore. “She reminds me a lot of Lemar.”

John inhaled a sharp breath, but didn’t say anything.

“Have you visited him?”

He shook his head, not being able to look her in the eyes. He hadn’t been there a single time since it happened.

“Come on, let’s go together.”

She pulled him by the arm, and he let her.

——

‘Courageous hero,
Beloved son and
Loyal brother.”

John's eyes stayed fixed on that last part on Lemar's tombstone.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” She asked, pointing to the scripture. John noticed how she discreetly wiped the tear away from her eyes. “We weren’t sure what you would like to put for the brother part, but I think loyal fits you two very much.”

John clenched his fists, feeling himself getting agitated. It was something like anger, but not exactly.

“Why— How could you—?” He struggled to speak, his voice too tight.

“You don’t like it? Oh, don’t worry. We can modify it later and add something you think is more appropriate.”

“Why are you being like this?” He mumbled, almost too quietly.

She blinked, confused. “Uh? Like what, dear?”

“Like this! Kind!” he raised his voice. “I don’t understand, how could you be like that to me after everything, huh? Lemar is gone, and it’s because of me! You should—!”

Hate me.

Like I hate myself, John wanted to scream.

John saw many emotions pass through those eyes of hers: confusion, disbelief, sadness, and then compassion. He couldn’t stand the last one, so he looked away.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time, that you were responsible for what happened?”

“Who else, if not me? I was the one who dragged Lemar there; I put him in that situation. I was always getting him involved in all my bullshit. If it weren't for me, he would be here with us running his dad's shop. I ruined his life,” John mumbled bleakly.

“No.” She said sternly. “My boy was many things, but a pushover was not one of them. Everything he did was because he chose to, because he wanted to. Becoming a soldier? Being your partner when you were Captain America? Even becoming your friend. All of those were choices he took. His life might’ve been cut short, but he lived it fulfilled and proud. With no regrets. And that's my only comfort. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” John said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Like a scolded kid. “I just can’t help to think if I hadn’t been there in his life. If Lemar hadn’t accidentally thrown a ball at me the day we met. Maybe things would be different.”

“That was no accident.”

“What?”

“You didn’t become friends by mere accident. Lemar talked about you before you even met. I remember him going on and on about some ‘badass guy’ who defended betas and omegas in his school. He admired you. A lot. Even before you two properly introduced.”

John opened and closed his mouth. His heart clenched too hard in his chest.

“He made it his personal mission to befriend you. He even tried to approach you many times before, but it never worked out. So, yeah, you never had a choice because being your friend, being your brother, that was what Lemar wanted.”

John's expression completely broke down into a mess. The tears from his eyes poured down his cheeks. He cleaned them furiously with the back of his hand, but they kept coming.

After a moment, John whispered in a broken voice, “What am I supposed to do now? Huh?”

Now that he is gone, he wanted to say.
Now that everything fell apart.

She shrugged, eyes filled with tears and sadness. “Keep living proudly for the ones who can’t. Keep loving your close ones while they are still here. That’s what you should do. What we all should do.”

John was only able to nod. The sobs wouldn’t allow him anything else.

——

The silence welcomed John as he walked into their apartment. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on the sofa in their living room. Olivia was just sitting there, knees to her chest, staring off into space. Not even his presence made her shift.

John looked around for a moment, hesitating.

“I’m back,” he said.

No answer, no reaction.

“Olivia?” He approached her slowly, feeling concern seep through. John sat next to her, close but not close enough to touch her.

That finally made her react, as she blinked a few times, her head turning to look at him. It was as if she had just realized he was in the room with her.

“Are you okay?”

Her face turned into a frown. “No, I’m not okay. You left. John, you just left me here.”

“Olivia, it’s just—“

She didn’t let him finish as she rose from the couch and began pacing. “What is wrong with you! Seriously, what is it? Because why would you leave like that, and disappear all night? Did you know how worried I was? Huh?”

“Olivia, I’m sorry.” He didn’t stand up, but his spine straightened while he scooched closer to the edge of his seat.

“No, you don’t get to speak. You don’t get to apologize. Not after what you did!” She yelled with an accusatory finger pointing at him.

John closed his mouth.

“You blindsided me with a difficult question and didn’t even let me think about it! You just left me, John. Do you have an idea of how unfair that was?”

He sighed. “I know, I—“

“So what if I’m not crazy about alphas, huh? Who cares? I love you! You, John! That’s what matters! I’m not going to give up on you without even trying, you hear me?” Her voice went from pissed to emotional in a second, breaking a little mid-sentence. “You are my family, and you are not allowed to walk out on me. Not now, not ever. Because I need you.”

She plumped down next to John.

“I need you right now more than ever,” her voice became a weak whisper.

John scooted closer to her in one movement as he reached to hold her hand on her thigh.

“I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere anymore if you aren’t.”

Olivia looked at him, bottom lip trembling. Her mouth opened and then closed before she exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant, John.”

He blinked once slowly, and then his face scrunched in confusion. “What?”

The words resonated in his head, but they didn’t make any sense.

“I took the test last night, and it was positive,” she continued.

“But that— I can’t. Just… how?” He struggled to form a proper sentence.

“I know, it sounds crazy. I still can’t believe it either,” Olivia said in a fast rhythm, hands nervously moving as she explained. “I have been late for a few weeks now, but I just thought it was stress. Then the doctor said all that stuff about you getting alpha physical traits, and my mind started going crazy. And I thought about the possibility, like, what if the alpha hormones give you —that— alpha characteristic, but I dropped the idea so fast, thinking: no, that’s ridiculous. Then, last night happened, and I just needed to know. So I took the test, several actually, and they all came back positive.”

John's mouth had gone more and more slack throughout all her ranting. He had no words.

Olivia glanced at him and then at the floor, her face cringing when he saw his face. “I know this is the worst timing possible and the last time we talked about it, you didn’t really want kids, but before you get upset, please let me—“

John’s arms automatically embraced her. He still had these wild eyes on him, his brain trying to process everything. But his body just knew what to do, what Olivia needed.

“I’m not upset,” he muttered. “I’m surprised, but I-I’m happy. Really happy.”

He hadn’t realized it until he said it. But he meant it. He was happy with the news. That was the only explanation for the feeling of fullness in his chest and the way his eyes prickled with tears.

Olivia let go of a shaky sigh. Her whole body relaxed against his, almost melting into him.

“Me too, me too,” she whispered. She hugged him back fiercely, her fingers grasping his jacket. “Tell me, how could I give up on us when this new side of you is giving us such a miracle, eh?”

John let go of her as he searched for her face. “Olivia…”

“So, if you want to take the treatment,” she began saying. Her hand reached for John’s face. Her fingers felt warm as they rested on his cheek. “If you think that’s the best for you, I’ll understand. I’ll support anything you want. It’ll be a hard thing to adjust to, but I’ll find a way.”

John smiled for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t want the treatment.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I’m an omega, and nothing will ever change that. I don’t care what the doctor says or how much my body changes. I know who I am and I know what I want.”

His fingers interlaced with her hand on his face, and he moved it to gently kiss the back of it. “I want this. You. Me. The baby.”

Olivia gave him a cheesy grin, and one tear she had been holding finally ran down her cheek. John whipped it away as she giggled.

“We will make it work, Olivia, don’t worry.” John’s mind began working on the next step, already thinking about the future. “My pay with Valentina is pretty good, plus the flexible schedule will let me be here with you more. We will have to buy a bigger place for sure. Good thing we have some savings, but I wonder if…”

“John?”

“Yes?” He turned to look at her.

A short peck was planted on his lips. Too short in John’s opinion. His lips even followed after hers when she pulled back.

“I love you,” she said.

John smiled big. “What a coincidence, I love you too.”

She rolled her eyes. Her smile stilled for a second before turning into a flat line. “You know, John, it won’t be easy.”

“Being parents? Yeah, agree.” He laughed, but it came out more as a loud exhale.

“No, I meant having alpha traits as an omega. Adjusting to everything. It’ll be hard not only for me.”

“I know,” he sighed. “It will be a lot. Even now, I feel like it’s a lot already. And I haven’t even had a proper rut yet.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Of having ruts?”

“More like… of everything,” she clarified.

John shrugged. He took a moment to answer, mostly because he was tempted to lie. “Truthfully? Yes, I am.”

“Well, I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

John inched closer to Olivia and reached for her. His fingers gently combed her hair behind her ears before cradling her face. “Yeah?”

“Yes. We will get through this,” she whispered as she leaned forward, her forehead resting on his. Her hands grabbed onto his forearms. Not to push him away, but to hold him steady.

He thought for a second about how Lemar had promised him something similar a few hours before he passed away. But this was different. It had to be.

“We will get through this,” he repeated, closing his eyes.

And in that moment, he really believed it.

Notes:

Has anyone listened to Vodka Cranberry by Conan Gray? Cuz, oh boy, I have been listening non stop, especially when I was re writing this chapter. Pls you need to listen to that song. Very John Walker coded idc

 

Anyway, yeah. We finally made it to the end of this part of the story 😭 I had planned to write sooo much more about John’s transition, but I decided to end it on a more hopeful and happy note instead. For my sanity lol

Also, originally, this was just supposed to be a short prequel for the story I actually wanted to do (Omega/Alpha ish John in the tb*), but I got sooo into the John&Lemar&Olivia dynamic. (Wtf I wrote 30k words, that’s insane)

And heads-up! I’m planning to do some WinterAgent for the sequel. Idk if you could tell, but I did some groundwork here for it :) But probs it will be about his relationship with everyone, platonic or not.

Hope you enjoyed this little journey! And get ready for the next ride ;)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of I am willing