A Tale of Two Omegas

Chapter 11: Seal the Deal

Disoriented yet distraughtly alert, Mew swiftly clambered to a kneeling position beside the tub and shut off the ice-like cascade of shower water, then reached down to sweep Gulf's hair out of his face, revealing screwed-shut eyes and an agonized furrow of the brow.

"Gulf, what happened? What's wrong?" Mew asked hurriedly.

When the only answer offered to him by the crumpled form in the tub came as nothing but a string of indecipherable whimpers and sputtering sobs, Mew scrambled to acquire the largest towel he could find in the bathroom and swaddled Gulf up within its warm fibers before carrying him out into the room and situating him beneath the thick covers of the bed.

A feeble attempt to re-warm the frozen, shuddering Omega, his involuntary convulsions of both pain of unknown cause and mild hypothermia from the cold shower, among the various unfortunate symptoms of full-blown heat, becoming particularly troubling in Mew's eyes.

He couldn't let himself dwell on his out-of-depthness this time, though. He refused to lose his nerve like he had before.

Sucking in a deep breath, Mew tried to coax a distinct reply out of Gulf again: "what's going on, Gulf? I need you to tell me."

Gulf squirmed about, not deliberately evading Mew's queries, but instead seeming to be so preoccupied and overwhelmed by pain that he physically struggled to speak.

So Mew employed a different approach. Noting that Gulf was still very tightly gripping at the side of his neck, he asked, "is it your neck? Does it hurt?"

Gulf quickly, jerkily nodded, tears spilling down his face.

"Is this normal for you? Has this ever happened to you before?" Mew continued.

Gulf shook his head, managing a small, shaky, "no."

"Should I call P'Grace?"

The pain must've flared just then, because Gulf suddenly hissed and yelped in the same breath, then rapidly replied, "yes, now--call her now!"

"Okay, shh... Gulf, it's going to be okay. Here--" Mew swiftly stripped himself of his jacket, rubbed it roughly against the scent glands in his neck--the effect of the scent blockers having finally worn-off--and placed it gently up against Gulf's nose.

Within seconds, the ailed Omega was hoarding the jacket against himself, gratefully burying his face in its soft fabric, the tension in his body ever-so-slightly melting away.

With Gulf now occupied, Mew sat on the edge of the bed beside him and began searching frantically through his phone contacts until he reached Grace.

Pressing the phone up against his ear, he waited as it rang once, twice, three times...

"Come on, Phi, pick up," Mew muttered to himself.

A fourth time, and he was beginning to lose hope.

A fifth--

"What do you want, Mew? I'm kind of busy delivering triplets here."

Mew's face, transiently rejoiced upon hearing Grace's voice, flickered with confusion, and despite the situation, he couldn't help but ask, "how are you on the phone, then?"

"I have a nurse holding it against my ear--" a sudden, bellowing howl resonated deafeningly through the phone's speaker, causing Mew to wince and jerk the phone away from his sensitive ear. Mew could hear the muffled encouragements Grace offered to the laboring mother she was tending to before she returned to their prior conversation. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding about the 'busy delivering triplets' thing, Mew. What do you need, and can it wait?"