Victuals & Vehemence - Septiplier

Chapter Seven

"Are you alright?" a deep voice asks softly from behind him. Jack scowls, digging through his pockets and grabbing a cigar without responding. He pulls out a match to light up, but a hand gently grabs his wrist. The omega jerks his arm away, scrambling to a standing position.

"Don't touch me," he hisses, feeling the warmth of the hand around his wrist, the strength in the grasp, yet so gentle with him. Mark lightly holds his hands up in acquiescence, ducking his head in a sign of apology.

"I was merely trying to stop you from smoking that cigar. They're horrible for your lungs," the doctor explains. The omega scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Bullshit. Plenty of doctors endorse cigars. It strengthens your respiratory system," the omega replies. "We give them to people with coughs, even kids. They aren't bad," he adds, striking the match and lighting up his cigar.

"I don't endorse their use. I've seen enough bodies to know they're bad. You do autopsies of enough cadavers, and you see a pattern. Omegas normally don't smoke, and they have these beautiful, red, big lungs. Then you get these old alphas that have been smoking since they were teenagers, and their lungs are black, shriveled, small. It's vile. The smoke goes into your lungs and poisons your lungs over time," Mark replies. Jack rolls his eyes, smirking.

"Doctor, have you considered that perhaps omegas simply have superior lungs?" he asks in a jesting tone to tease the alpha lightly. He occasionally finds amusement in pushing alphas, implying omega superiority in certain situations, just to tease. The doctor laughs softly, moving to sit on the edge of the walkway. Jack warily observes the movement, confusion sparking in his blue eyes. The omega challenges the alpha, and Mark responds by sitting down?

"It is a possibility, but whenever I get the chance to look at a young alpha, their lungs look like omega lungs."

"Have you looked at old omega lungs?"

"Yes, and they are still healthy and beautiful."

"Since when were organs beautiful?" the omega mutters, killing his cigar by pressing it against a loose part of his pants. It's not like he cares what he looks like. Burn marks on his pants don't bother him.

"Since I became a doctor," the alpha answers, frowning as he witnesses Jack's method of putting out the cigar. However, he does give the omega a small smile of appreciation for listening to his warning.

Jack turns his face away.

"However, back to my original reason for following after you. You left the scene quite distressed," Mark murmurs, brows furrowed as he looks at the omega. It is strange to talk to someone and know that they are omegan, but have them act like an alpha.

"Frustrated over the case," Jack replies dismissively, giving the alpha a wave of his hand.

"In what way?" the doctor inquires.

"Can't tell you, big guy," Jack scoffs.

"Hippocratic oath, doctor-patient confidentiality," Mark counters.

"Don't want to tell you, big guy," Jack rephrases.

"Why not? Talking about it with someone can help you gain a different perspective and remove your emotions away from the situation," the alpha persists. He adds, "You should talk to me about it," in his deep voice. The omega massages his covered neck, over his scent glands, instinctively wanting to release more of his distressed, nervous scent. Jack catches himself and scowls, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

"Fine, dammit, fine," he growls, before explaining.

"He has never revealed information like that before. I know he's an alpha and that he's searching for a mate now, but he's never... showed that. He decided to show me that. It wasn't some lapse of judgment. He doesn't have lapses in judgment. Everything he does is perfect. For goddess's sake, I didn't even know he was a he until now. The bastard is toying with me," Jack mutters, glaring at the ground. His lips curl up, baring his small fangs angrily at the thought. Mark is quiet for a moment before speaking.