Chapter Text
For over a century, werewolves integrated themselves into every country's society. Their politics were alongside the human ones in the news, their murders just as important, their traditions marked on calendars. In the workforce, they worked with and for humans, depending on the job. All companies were required to have equal opportunities for both species. John himself never had an issue working with a werewolf. Because they were physically stronger than a human, many of them had taken up positions in the military or police force. It was something that humans rapidly embraced, as they quickly became necessary in order to fight werewolf crime. As far as John could tell, they were just like everyone else... well, save for their physical strength, stronger senses, and ability to turn into a wolf. That being said, John had never given werewolves a second thought, and he sure as Hell never understood how werewolf culture worked. He never thought that he would have to either.
Then Maiwand happened. John had toured once previously, but this was his first time overseas as a Captain. John’s brigade was given a routine patrol, just before sundown. Nothing out of the ordinary had been reported there for weeks. But John felt uneasy as they made their way down the nigh on nonexistent road. His eyes never stopped wandering. He could feel in his bones that something was off. Naturally, his men gave him a hard time about it. "It's just the desert getting to you," one of them proclaimed. "You're going to be hallucinating soon if you aren't careful."
No one had heard it coming. After all, they were all human. The werewolves couldn't travel with them that night, given the full moon. Not even the Army trusted them in that regard. And they were used to gunfire coming their way, usually horrifically off target. Thus, they were blindsided by the wolf pack. Fangs flashed, screams tearing through the sound of ripped muscle and cartilage. John was one of the few prepared for it. Their pistols were specifically designed for werewolf attacks. Immediately, he reached for his and - being the crack shot he was - began to fire at the rampaging fur. Blood spattered, shots fired, but in the end, they won. At a cost. John was bitten in his left shoulder, and they lost several men in the brigade.
When they made it back to base, it was too late for John to receive the needed antidote. The doctors, many of whom he knew well and with whom he often enjoyed a few pints, discussed matters amongst themselves. John felt his anxiety rise as one of them finally returned. This colleague, more versed in werewolf medicine, quietly explained, “There is no way to prevent your transformation. But once it’s complete, and you go through some training, you will be able to continue serving in the Army.”
They sent him back to England on the next available flight. Then, he was kept under observation, specifically in a werewolf hospital - which surrounded a garden on all sides. An entire moon phase passed before John transformed for the first time. That night would be forever seared in his mind – the painful transformation into a foreign body, the imbalance and fear he felt, the overwhelming stimuli for all five of his senses, the need to flee. Finally, he passed out and woke up the next morning in his human body. It was then that he discovered that he presented as an Omega. The Army didn’t accept Omegas.
By law, the hospital was obligated to release him into the custody of The Centre. John heard reports about them in the news several years back. Apparently, there had been an issue with too many “unbonded” Omegas being "forcibly mated" - the werewolf term, it seemed, for rape. The Centre was set up as a countermeasure. They would take in every Omega and find a perfect match through their five-step system. Now that John had presented, he would have to live there.
He filled out stacks and stacks of paperwork – about himself, his family, his finances, his living situation, his prospects, and more. Stacks of papers filled his desk, almost convincing him that he had never left the Army. Then, to top it all off, once he was done with that, he was given a dating survey. It was a fill-in-the-blank with various “personal” questions, all of which were utterly ridiculous. As if an Alpha cared about his favourite “dirty secret” telly programme.
Upon arrival, John was greeted by a brunette bombshell. Her blue eyes were outlined with wonderful, lush lashes, and her nurse’s outfit fit her curves to leave little to the imagination. What’s more, though, she didn’t smell strongly at all. It was a subtle mixture of roses and tea. John had never been so relieved, coming from a hospital with plenty of scents stirring underneath his nostrils. “I’m Anthea, your new caretaker,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m here to bring you to your room.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” John managed, wondering if she was an Alpha… and, if so, if he could convince her to claim him. As he trailed behind her, he noticed that the entire Centre was pristine. Not a single scent wafted across his senses. Indistinguishable doors passed him by, creating small divots on the wall. They reminded him of a never-ending university dorm hall. Curiosity piqued, he asked, “Is there a kitchen we share anywhere close?”
“The Centre will provide for all your needs.” It was his only reply before Anthea unlocked a door. Opening it, she smiled. “Your room, John Watson.”
He stepped inside. The modest room contained nothing more than necessary: a bed, a desk and chair, a nightstand, a closet, and a water closet. Matching the outside, everything here was a crisp white. Not a trace of scent could be found besides his own. Just as he was about to ask a question, the door shut and locked.
It was then John realised the Centre was far more akin to a prison.
His door opened, ripping him from his memories. Looking over, he found Anthea standing in the doorway. His self-proclaimed “caretaker,” she only seemed to show up whenever she had a job to do. And if she was here, it meant someone couldn’t be far behind. “John, an Alpha is here to meet you.”
With a sigh, John rose to his feet. He was intimately familiar with Step One. Both parties were to be blindfolded in order to ensure introduction via scent. After all, several researchers confirmed that mates who met through scent and not sight were far more likely to remain together. Once the blindfolds were secured, then the Alpha would enter the room. The Omega would approach the Alpha, and they would scent the other werewolf. If both parties enjoyed the other’s scent, the Alpha would be given a file about the available Omega. If interested, the Alpha could initiate Step Two.
However, John didn’t know how the process continued. He had never even managed to get to Step Two. Most scents he found repulsive – too pungent or overbearing – and the Alphas whose scents he could tolerate always chose someone else. After all, no Alpha was interested in an Omega John’s age when there were so many younger Omegas available.
John worried more and more that he would never leave the Centre. He hated it there, surrounded by those four white walls. It was a trap - one that he was sent into by the very country he fought to protect. And if he couldn’t get an Alpha, he had no way to leave without becoming a fugitive. At times, though, he couldn't help but think that a life on the run would be better than this life in a cage. Familiarising himself with the security system, after all his training, wouldn’t be overly difficult.
Without warning, Anthea covered his eyes with a blindfold. “Please remember: do not remove the blindfold-”
“-And don’t speak. Yes, I know,” John responded with a sigh.
Anthea patted his good shoulder. “This Alpha might be the one,” she said, as she always did. At one point, John had believed her. He approached every Alpha with the overwhelming hope that this time, he would find a home. However, her words had lost their meaning long ago.
John waited. Anthea’s sweet scent drifted away. Although he had been disappointed at first to discover Anthea was a Beta, it made more sense. Betas’ scents weren’t as overpowering, which helped John’s sensitive nose. As he had been told plenty of times before, though, it was impossible for a Beta to mate an Omega. They lacked the "proper parts," Anthea remarked. At the time she said that, John snapped back, “And? Makes them no different from any of the Alphas I’ve met.” She didn't appreciate his comment.
Listening carefully, he could hear Anthea’s footsteps return along with another pair. Before John smelled the Alpha, he always tried to figure out as much as he could. He could hear that the second pair of footsteps were heavy, thus the werewolf was a male. The gait was a bit longer than John's, so he was taller but not by much. The shoes clicked against the ground, which meant they weren't trainers. Probably nice dress shoes, which meant money. Definitely not someone who would be interested in an old Omega like John. Probably best to get it all over with.
Once they were in John’s room, they stopped. John hesitantly took a step forward. And another. And another. Cocking his head, he inhaled deeply only to find that he couldn’t smell the Alpha yet. That was strange. Normally, he was buffeted by the scent by the first step. Taking a fourth step, John caught a whiff. He could smell apples and fresh leather with just a hint of gunpowder underneath. It smelled good . Biting back a groan, John reached forward to keep himself from running into the Alpha. After two more steps, he felt a silky cloth meet his hand. Another hand suddenly covered his own, warm and soft against his rough skin.
Slowly, John took another step forward. He didn’t know if the Alpha liked physical contact - and he couldn’t ask - so he wasn’t about to force them into an awkward situation. The hand shifted down John’s arm and grasped it, pulling John closer. John felt two arms wrapped around him, and he fell face-first into a broad chest. Sucking in a deep breath, John relaxed. He shifted in order to press his face into the Alpha’s neck, taking in another deep breath. The scent didn’t burn his nose, although it contained a faint bite to it that kept John aware.
The Alpha shifted, bringing his hand up to John’s head. Fingers laced through his hair, gently stroking it. Melting into the form, John nuzzled the Alpha. Part of him wanted to burrow inside this scent. The other part only hoped it would linger once the Alpha left. Reaching around, John gripped the silky material, digging his fingers into it. His body thrummed, a ghost of an ache emerging from his core. Despite all the books he read, John only now understood. This was what it meant to connect with an Alpha.
The Alpha’s heartbeat thumped into John’s ear. Its even pace practically kept time of the seconds. Despite himself, John instinctively began to count the beats. He knew the rough approximation for a minute, but even with that inaccuracy, he could tell that the Alpha was healthy. His resting heart rate was around 60 beats, slower than John’s.
Suddenly, the hand in his hair shifted, scratching just behind his ear. John batted it away with a growl. He was not a born Omega, and he didn’t have the same penchant for “scratchies” as they did. If anything, being treated like a dog left him irritated. Silence hung in the air, forcing John to consider what he had done. Certainly, this Alpha was not going to choose him. His body ached at the thought. He hated this Omega sentimentality, which etched itself across his entire being and caused for him to be so desperate, so dependent on another.
John stepped a foot back. It was better to finish this now. And at least this would be on his terms, without the added sting of the Alpha’s rejection. However, the Alpha shifted forward in response. His arm, still coiled around John’s back, tightened. John felt the arm flex around him, drawing him back in. Suddenly, the rejected hand returned. This time, however, it locked onto the back of John’s neck. Muscles springing like tight rubber bands, John groaned as he felt the tension seep from him. His head rolled with the motions, like putty. For a moment, he could have sworn that he heard a chuckle. However, he couldn’t be sure, as a particularly strong knead sent goosebumps down his arms. His hold on the Alpha strengthened as his senses filled with the sensations that only this werewolf ever provided.
“Sir, it’s time to leave and meet the next Omega,” Anthea called out, her voice shattering the moment.
Panic welled. John wanted to cry out, to object, to ask for just a few more minutes . However, he wasn’t 15 anymore, and he still had enough of his pride scraped together to bite his tongue. This was it – this Alpha would find someone better than John, and he would lose this scent forever. He felt a pair of hands grab his good shoulder and pull him back. Anthea never had to get handsy with him before, but she certainly had a strong grip. Despite himself, he let out a soft whine that only the Alpha would hear.
A low, possessive growl answered. Anthea’s intrusive hands released John altogether. Suddenly, John was pulled back. He thumped against the Alpha’s form and felt a pair of lips press to his head. A reassurance. A silent promise. One John didn’t believe. Releasing him, the Alpha stepped away. His scent dissipated in an instant. Setting his jaw, John took in several painful breaths before forcing himself to step backwards. His legs found his bed, and his equilibrium failed him. Landing on it, he felt the unforgiving springs groan underneath his weight.
The door closed. John heard its distinct lock click and pulled off his blindfold. Rubbing his eyes, he tries to shake himself from the experience. His heart ached, his nose searching for the phantom of that scent. He could just barely smell it on himself. However, Anthea would be there soon to force him to change. Omegas had imprinted on less before, and the Centre couldn’t have an accidental imprinting blemishing its name. Inhaling deep, John felt the cool air start to penetrate him again. He shivered, hugging himself, and recalled exactly how it felt to have another’s arms around him. This wasn’t anything close to the same.
Part of John wished he had never met that Alpha, now knowing what he had lost.