Through Hell [AOB/LGBT+/mpreg]

4

A light breeze hits Oliver's warm skin when he steps outside of the diner for the last time as an employee.  The sun has already hidden behind lines of trees and buildings, the breeze picking up and making him shiver where he stands.

In his hand he holds his last payment with something akin to resentment simmering below.  Slowly, he begins to count the money and tips he managed to make for the last time.  He discovers that it barely amounts to a hundred dollars.  There's a churn of hopelessness that makes him want to gag as he thinks about what will happen when he can't complete over $8,000 in the next couple of hours.

The realization that he only has a couple hours to live hits him hard.  His hands curl around the loose bills before he shoves them in his pocket. He needs to move.  He needs to go into hiding or something.  He doesn't just want to wait around until that alpha finds him and kills him.

A shiver crawls up his spine at the mere thought of what awaits him.

Decidedly he heads for the nearest bus stop and gets on with no destination in mind.

Hours later and after two bus changes, Oliver finds himself in a small town worse than the one he left behind.

There are garbage piles littered everywhere.  The stench of rotting food clogs his sensitive nose and makes his eyes water.  The siding of houses and buildings alike are browning wrapped with broken and rusting fences filled with tetanus.  Sidewalks are cracked as tree roots poke under concrete and trip him when he's not looking.

He wanders around aimlessly, hugging himself when beta men hanging around abandoned buildings whistle and jeer his way.

Not for the first time does he question why he chose to run, why he chose to live.

He bites his lip until he draws blood, the metallic taste coating his tongue. His eyes flicker from building to building until he settles on a motel.

He has enough for a night.  There's a small comfort with the thought of a roof over his head though.

The chime of bells pursue Oliver as he approaches the front desk, an older woman behind the counter giving him a once over.  An old alpha stands behind her, eying him with just as much interest.  Only one words pops into his mind. Sleazy.

He wonders if they' plot to harvest his organs once he turns around to leave and he reminds himself to block the door once he gets a room.

The process isn't too arduous and within moments he has the key card in his hand.

He passes by a vending machine on his way to his room and he settles on some chips.  He lost his appetite days ago, he doesn't think he can stomach anything other than the saltiness and cheesy crunch of cheetos.

Once in his room he secures the door with the flimsy locks and barricades himself with the nightstand.  Something that becomes easy, becomes routine and second nature as one might turns into two, then three, and so forth.

In the morning of his second day of hiding he manages to get blockers with his dwindling money at a nearby store. The patches irritate his skin in the worst ways possible, but he needs them if he thinks of securing a job. 

It's with sheer luck that he finds a position in the confines of an elementary school as a night janitor.

He sleeps during the day, or tries to, and works late into the night.

The smell of pups clings to him and makes his omega ache with want.

He reminds himself that he can't.  He can never bring a pup into this world.  Not while he's on the run.

Our alpha would've taken care of us, his omega huffs, strong alpha, good alpha.

"You mean the alpha that wants to kill us?" Oliver frowns as he sweeps one night.

His omega drops it at that, but the yearning doesn't stop.  It never stops, not even when he sleeps.

The dreams... the dreams that should be nightmares haunt him.

Images of the alpha, of a man with short dark hair, stubble, and sharp features filters through his sleep addled mind. Images of dark luring eyes that flicker to luminescent red consume him. He feels the phantom touch of a calloused hand wrapping around his throat, feels claws pressing into his skin, into his scent glands teasingly.

And when he wakes up, without fail, he's drenched in sweat, panting and breathing heavy with exasperation as slick pools in his briefs.

Not even three weeks later he finds himself aching in more ways than one, worse than before.

He wakes up groggy and confused, body aching and head heavy as if stuffed.

He tries to move but finds that he can't.  He's weighed down by shivers and need.

Without restraint he sinks back into sleep.

The sound of a loud knock on the door startles him the second time around and he fights his limbs, wills his body to finally move.

It's a struggle but he somehow manages to stand on trembling legs, like a newborn fawn.

He approaches the door, swallowing thickly in an attempt to soothe his dry aching throat with no success.

The knocking starts up again, louder in his ears now that he's closer, persistent and sounding almost urgent.  It makes the blooming headache grow, bursts of colors sprout when he has to close his eyes against the onslaught of sound.

With a whimper he opens the door, thankful that he stopped blocking the door with the nightstand days ago, unsure if he'd be able to move it if it were there now.

"Found you."

Oliver flickers his dazed gaze up and he stares at the man before him dumbfounded.

The man pushes inside seconds after the door is opened.

The man's hand immediately wraps around his jaw and pushes him further into the room.  Oliver can't fight the horror as he feels slick pooling in his sweats.  His body is pliant, though, when he's shoved against the nearest wall, door slamming shut with resounding finality behind the man, the alpha.

"Thought you could escape me?"

No, Oliver whines, no he could never escape him, he knew that the moment the alpha left the diner.

"Three weeks, Oliver. I've been hunting you down for three fucking weeks."

Oliver can't stop the whimper that falls from his lips.

His pupils dilate.

Alpha, alpha is here, alpha came!

"I've given you more than enough time," the man growls, "so where is my money?"

And then the alpha is leaning in closer, so close that their breaths mingle and their noses brush together.  The alpha's dangerous red eyes flutter when he draws in Oliver's intoxicating scent.  The scent cloying and thickening, both Alpha and Omega scents mixing together causing Oliver's breath to hitch and he can't keep standing.  The only thing keeping him upright at that point is the alpha's body flush against his.

"Omega," the alpha rasps.

"A-Alpha," Oliver breathes, "please."

The alpha licks his lips ready to devour but Oliver grows impatient and before the Alpha can clear the fog of heat and slick and want, the omega pushes forward and crashes their lips into a sloppy kiss.

And he realizes with curious delight that the alpha tastes like strawberries and cigarettes.