Through Hell [AOB/LGBT+/mpreg]

23

Oliver doesn't know where the blood ends nor begins.  All he knows is that it's everywhere and his alpha isn't responding and suddenly he can't breathe.  He can't breathe.  There's a sharp pain surrounding his lower back and belly and his alpha is gone.  No matter how hard he shakes him, no matter how brokenly he begs for him to wake up, to open his eyes, his alpha doesn't respond.

He tries to fight against the hands that reach for him, those cursed hands that try to pry him away from his alpha.  He lashes out and bites the hand wrapping a little too close to his bare mating gland.  No one... no one should touch him there but his alpha.

"Stop," a low growl orders, the agent physically pulling the omega away from the body, "it was better this way, Morales.  Abaya was going to die either way, by your hand or mine. Now back away from him and go before the police get here."

Oliver pauses, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, "What do you mean?"

"Don't you get it?  The only way to keep you out of jail for being his accomplice and doing his dirty work was to kill him so he wouldn't talk, so he wouldn't throw you under the bus as revenge.  Someone would've pulled the trigger whether it was you, or me."

"That... that wasn't what we agreed," Oliver rasps.

"It was implied, now leave omega, before they get here and your tangled further into this mess.  I'm giving you a way out, there won't be a second chance.  Mark my words, you will be next once they figure out he had an omega confidant."

Oliver is consumed by anger, "I wasn't... no, you tricked me."

"I did what I had to do, just as you did."

"Don't compare me to you.  I never wanted to hurt him, I wanted to keep him away, never... never this."

"It's too late for regret.  You've help me greatly, but my appreciation ends here.  If you don't leave I will turn you in myself."

Oliver stares in disbelief.  He wants... he wants to kill this man.  He wants to rip him apart and make him hurt like he's hurting.  He wants-

"Go."

He can't.  He can't go against the command no matter how much he tries to fight it.

Oliver hunches forward.  His breathing is labored and something doesn't feel right.

He swallows back the words of hate and he stumbles back, back away from the river of blood, from his alpha's body.

His steps are unsteady as he walks through the halls.

He feels dizzy, so much so that he needs to stop just to throw up.  His head is pounding and his belly cramps again.  He frowns, trembling hand cupping the slight swell.

"I can't lose you too," he croaks, "you're all I have left."

Somehow he makes it outside.

Numb, he walks through the streets, earning stares and gasps of horror when people notice the blood drying on his skin, on his clothes.

He walks until his legs tremble with effort, his feet hurt from the distance.

The immediate response he gets from the front desk when he steps through the ER would be comical in any other situation.  As it stands, he can't feel anything other than pain, fear, and anger.

"Sir? Sir?"

He looks up, eyes glazed and unfocused on the kind woman trying to gain his attention.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Oliver grabs her hand, startling her before understanding dawns on her when he presses it against his stomach.

"I-I'm thirteen weeks," he begins, "I-It hurts."

"Ok," she coos, "you're okay, can you tell me your name?"

Oliver looks at her without really seeing her.  He slumps forward, a sob tearing through him.

She kneels right beside him and all Oliver can see is the ghost of Oro, the memory of when his alpha did the same with eyes full of concern.

"He's gone," he admits aloud, to her, to himself.

She looks at his pale face, at the distraught in the tears that continue to fall.  Did they ever stop?

"Sir?"

"My alpha is... he's gone."

He can see the way her face morphs into pity.

He doesn't need pity.

He needs someone to blame him.

He needs someone to see him for who he is.  For the cruel and horrible person he is for killing the man he lo-

"It's okay.  You can let go now."

Oliver nods dumbly and everything goes blissfully dark.

When he wakes up it's to the steady sound of a heart monitor right beside him.  His eyes flutter against the harsh light as his nose twitches at the inherently clinical smell surrounding him.  He grimaces when he tries to open his eyes, he feels sensitive against the sound and light engulfing him.  He feels dizzy and like the world has come crashing down around him.

He completely jerks awake when he feels something wrapped around his belly move just so.

He sits up a little too quickly that he has to close his eyes and breath deeply just so he doesn't puke.  He thought he was passed this.

Slowly.

Ever so slowly, he allows his senses to return to him.

Dazed he allows his eyes to flutter open to look around to discover that yes, he's been admitted to a hospital.  The blankets are rough but warm against his skin, though his main concern is the band wrapped around his waist.

He turns to his bedside and looks at a second monitor and he can guess that it's for his pup.

He leans against the pillow and allows darkness to drag him down again.

For now they're safe.