It's something along the way
gif by @billy-crudup
RBF Square Filled: Alpha!Rick Pairing: Alpha!Rick Flag x F!Reader Words: 9.8k Summary: You’re on a mission with the squad when your suppressants stop working. Alpha!Rick Flag to the rescue! Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, Angst, Swearing, descriptions of pain, Guns, Canon-Typical Violence (so it's pretty extreme at moments), brief noncon elements, implied smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, hurt/ comfort, power dynamics since Reader is a prisoner on the squad, no smut but brief mentions of Reader getting off in their tent to thots about Rick, use of suppressants, use of syringe to administer meds, the briefest mention of Reader getting creampied by Rick, mild spoilers for TSS 2021 in regards to Waller A/N: Huge thanks to @green-socks for beta’ing this fic! :D Thank you so much Sam for all your help and support! ^_^ 💖 Also, I’m unsure when/ if there will be an additional chapter of smut for this specific fic but I have more Alpha!Rick prompts on my bingo card that will definitely be smutty!!! Rating: Explicit. All my blogs and works are 18+ only regardless of rating. Minors do not interact! Created for: @rickflagbingo
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It feels like you're walking through a dream. Arriving at your designated sections slower than your typical pace yet before you even realize. There's a heavy curtain hanging over your awareness. A thick haze over your thoughts- one that you thought would lift once you cleared the tree line. Stepped out into the pulse of violence as the team launched their attack but you can't seem to meet the heart pounding slam of it like your teammates. Always one pace, one jerk of the bolt of your gun behind the rest.
Rick notices it first. Probably because it's his job- his mission and you're his responsibility.
Something in that last thought is distracting.
His his his his.
But you shove it down as mercilessly as you down your enemies until Rick's voice cracks over the comms.
"Status report."
You're the last to reply, uncertainty entering your usually sure voice.
"Almost at quadrant seven," you say, the sound of Boomerang's rifle cracking behind you, more distracting than it should be. There's a tingle up your spine that has nothing to do with your usual adrenaline- a restless feeling over your skin like you're aware of Boomerang's movements at your back for more than the mission. There's a long pause from Rick before he replies and you curse yourself for not reaching your assigned quadrant yet- knowing you're holding up Boomerang reaching his too.
"Alright, just do your best like I know you can," Rick says and you can't help the chirp that escapes you- keening at the sliver of praise that probably isn't directed at you at all- Rick's always encouraging the whole team. But you hoard the praise regardless. Feel it fly through your blood like a runner's high. Let it bolster your efforts to perform well which fails maybe even harder than before.
What came as easily as breathing to you any other day now feels like a chore- hand shaking around the gun in your grip. Every slight action requires extra attention. What had been thoughtless muscle memory becomes horribly forced.
Trigger's voice lilts over the comms- smooth and amused, "Some of us aren't pulling their weight," he says and you want to scream because you know the message is meant for you. Instead you bite back the irritation, renewed motivation to reach your quadrant in record time strikes through you like lightning.
You don't need to give Trigger yet another reason to look down on you. No one on the team knows you're an Omega but sometimes the way Trigger looks at you makes you think he might have suspicions. In any case he has lecherous intentions and your skin crawls at the thought of his snake eyes on you this morning when you'd been warming up your rationpak- like you were a meal he intended to choke down and swallow whole.
His unsettling attention broke when Rick appeared just before you'd dove into your tent so Trigger wouldn't see the shiver his attention had created. Scarfed down your breakfast and then an extra dose of your suppressants- just in case. Just to be on the safe side out here. You knew Rick would keep the pace of the mission on time and have you back in the relative safety of Waller's prison before you run out of meds. Next time you might even dare to ask Waller for extra. Being around this many Alpha's might be throwing you off.
When the first shot misses you don't think anything of it. Just take a tight breath and lift your gun from where it's tilted down slightly- let off another shot and the red mist when it strikes your enemy is all you need to keep moving. Within seconds you're posted up behind the crates- your dedicated position in this coordinated attack and it's only when you miss the next two shots that a creeping nag at the back of your mind begins to worm it's way into your awareness.
"Getting rusty, kid," Boomerang quips over the comms, his rough twang of an accent in the taunt making you bristle while something in your gut tugs hot and suddenly your hands are shaking as realization dawns.
fuck fuck fuck fuck
it can't be
not here
Dread dumps ice down your spine even as you become aware that your body is hot- burning- feverish with sweat and heat that's for more than your previous hours running through the jungle. You can't pass off your short fuse and snappy attitude this morning on the humidity any longer. Not when Boomerang is speaking through the comms once more- this time calling out your lack of reply- and there's a swirl of something in your gut. A fluttering that you try to ignore- to not associate with Boomerang's face and form- because there was a time when you'd fuck an Alpha like him and you're trying to put that part of your past far behind you. Where Waller won't use it against you.
"What? Got no smart retort for me? You were so quick to give me shit about breaking camp this morning and now nothing?" Boomerang says, amusement lacing his tone.
"Fuck you," you grit out, voice wavering in a way that you hope he doesn't notice.
"There she is," Boomerang offers. "My spicy little Omega," he continues and you seethe even as something in the back of your mind latches onto the phrase. A path you're helpless to follow even as you try to focus on the foray into violence that your team is executing in front of you.
you're supposed to provide cover not imagine what it'd be like to be someone's Omega.
provide. cover, you grit out, releasing another few shoots that only spray the cement behind your enemies heads.
You lift your gun to try again and when there's only a breathtakingly empty click beneath your finger you duck behind the crate. Nerves skittering over the realization that you forgot to reload- trembling hands sliding over your ammunition and gun as you try to complete the task even as your shoulder hisses with pain. You hadn't dropped fast enough and the volley of fire upon your crates indicates that your enemies have decided you're the weak spot of the team. And they're not wrong, you realize with a mix of heart wrenching fear and rage, because you've dropped your gun twice now before the magazine slides into place with a satisfying click.
Scrambling to crouch and return fire, you ignore the red wetness that courses down your arm for the task that's been set out for you. Straining your ears- you wait for a break in the crack of bullets that cover your position when the pain starts. A cresting wave of a cramp that starts at your navel and works it's way down between your legs. With a furious roar you lift and point your gun over the edge of the crate, the weapon waving in your hands before you even get a sightline on your target.
"FOR FUCKS SAKE OMEGA LOOK WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING AIMING THAT THING!" Boomerang's voice cracks over the comms and guilt slams through you as hard as the command he's driven into his words. You knew he'd be traversing your section to get to his. You knew that this morning before this feral, basal need began infecting your brain. Mind clouded- dragged through sludge to just arrive at the fact that you're now a threat to your team.
You freeze- watching Boomerang glare at you from behind his own set of crates in front of you- watching as his anger flickers with concern when you don't move. Your gun gone silent in your grip, your body frozen beneath his regard- waiting out in the open like an idiot.
Boomerang's kind enough to say the order off the comms.
"Get down! Fuck!" Boomerang growls at you, voice booming across the distance separating you- the last curse snarled as he realizes the state that you're in when your body drops to the dirt- to the depths of your agony as you realize he's unhappy with you. And while he's not your Alpha- you curse the way you respond as though he is.
Fuck, you're in it now, you realize- panic filling you alongside a deep need that you hadn't felt in years. Not since you'd been locked up and assigned to Task Force X- Waller's suppressants had been effective to this point. But now it's like you'd never even heard of them. Had never laid eyes on the pills or ever even known the concept of suppressants.
There's a scrambling beside you and Boomerang's face filters into your view- his brows furrowed in concern- in restraint you realize as he tugs his bandana from his neck and over the lower half of his face in an attempt to block your scent.
"Christ- fuck you're really- I was only joking- I didn't know-," Boomerang says, gaze raking over your form- curled in on yourself and tears streaming from your eyes.
"We gotta tell Flag," Boomerang says- no argument in his tone even as something sympathetic pours from his eyes when you shake your head and try to sit up. Boomerang shoves you back down- yanks his hand away from you like you've burned him when you make a noise that you're both trying to ignore when you give in to his touch. His focus is drawn between his return fire on the enemies and the way you're biting your bottom lip bloody as you try to restrain the cries of need that threaten to burst from you.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Boomerang says as he stands and moves away- one hand providing cover for himself and the other wrapped around his comm.
"I can't- your scent- I can't think," he says as you try to register the first apology he's ever directed at you even with the fact that he's leaving you. Alone. Vulnerable. Fear like you've never known scrabbles through you and Boomerang hates to use an Alpha command but you have to be safe until Rick gets here.
"Stay down," Boomerang orders, a remnant of relief coursing through him when you listen even as guilt fills him as his footsteps separate you. If he doesn't keep pushing on to his quadrant then your odds of making it out of here alive are slim. Plus Rick has the emergency suppressants. No use having two useless team members.
"Flag, sector seven is weakened," Boomerang says through the comms before his frame disappears from your line of sight.
"What? Status report, Boomerang," Rick's voice filters through the comm- surprise lilting his voice even as a steady pattern of gunshots echo behind it. You can see him in your mind's eye- calm and composed even in the center of a storm. The best sort of Alpha there is- your hindbrain helpfully supplies.
"Is someone down?" Rick shouts just to be heard over his gun.
Boomerang huffs over the comm and you want to sink into the ground beneath you. Disappear and not have to hear the rest of this conversation. Shame threatens to eat you alive and put you out of your misery if one of the enemies doesn't come over and do it for you.
"Taste the air, Flag," Boomerang supplies- cryptic in a way that he never is and your mind supplies the reason- the series of red flags that you've kept track of this entire mission until now. The answer arrives with a laugh over the comms- a dark chuckle that turns your blood to ice.
"Someone's in heat," Trigger's voice titters over the comms behind his laugh- insidious and dripping with something you don't want to name. Flag's response is immediate.
"Plan O in effect immediately. If anyone other than seven deviates from their position I will execute on sight."
There's a smidgen of relief that runs through you at Rick's words- warms you- until you realize that Flag's position is damn near exact opposite to yours and Trigger's lies closer.
fuck fuck fuck
You have to follow Boomerang. He won't like it but at least he's safe.
Rolling to sit up you nearly wretch when the pain from your gut strikes down your legs but you push forward, stumbling over the ground, gun heavy in your hand as you try to maintain cover. It's easier only for the fact that Boomerang appears to have adopted a take no prisoners attitude to his section- for your sake you realize with a gratefulness that would be there even without your hindbrain evaluating his Alpha qualities.
Rick's voice appears over the comms, gritted with threat.
"Trigger you better be in the goddamn building," It's a warning that makes you relieved and worried at the same time. Flag's moving faster than you anticipated- if he's at Trigger’s section then he's nearly at yours. But if Trigger is missing from his then there's a chance-
You reach the safety of the trunk of a thick tree- scooting yourself up small behind it as you search the path you've just come from for Trigger. It's empty. You should keep going until you reach Boomerang but your breathing has picked up and the action of moving has nearly robbed you of all your typical strength. Scrunching yourself up tight, you try to even your breaths and remain as quiet as possible.
Rick will be here soon. He'll know what to do.
Footsteps approach and you're struck with an acrid scent that makes you want to choke.
That's not Rick.
Rick smells like pine and smoke and something that's just him. He's the best smelling Alpha you've ever come across- even with you being on suppressants.
The ugly scent becomes thicker and your hand clenches tighter around your gun.
"Ohh, silly Omega," Trigger’s voice is so close.
"Didn't Waller tell you about my file?" he taunts, voice light and dangerous.
"I love it when they try to hide from me," and suddenly there's fingers at the back of your neck, pressing so hard it hurts and you can't do anything as you're hauled upright- gun falling out of your grip while you scramble at the hand that appears at your throat.
Trigger sneers into you as you fight his hold, thrusts his face close to yours and inhales deeply- loudly and lewdly.
"Aren't you a treat? It's almost like Waller placed you on this mission just for me," Trigger says, smiling wide as you glare back in defiance.
"Fuck you," you spit at him and Trigger flinches only minutely- a false façade of control settling over his features.
"Oh, I intend to. Now be a good little Omega-," Trigger sneers, hand dropping from the back of your neck to your inner thigh, fingers digging cruelly into the flesh there when he wrenches it away from your other leg as he wedges his own between. The Alpha command is clear in his voice when he says, "and behave for me." Dark laughter falling around you as your body grows slack in his grip.
As much as your hindbrain submits- the rest of you doesn't.
You're spitting vitriol at Trigger as his mouth bends to your neck, his hand loosening its grip there to reveal your marking glands when you feel his entire body still.
"You're disgusting," you continue, grateful that your words have halted his progress. "Shittiest excuse for an Alpha that I've ever seen," you continue before Trigger huffs into your throat and releases you.
Oh shit, you think as you drop to the dirt, proud of yourself for half a second before Trigger's gaze cuts to the side and he bares his teeth for entirely different reasons. It's only then that you realize he's favoring one leg- how you missed the sound of the gunshot amazes you except for knowing how loud your fear had been at Trigger attempting to claim you.
Following the bastard's eyes, you see Rick standing to the side and your breath catches at the sight of him- bristling with rage at Trigger. Your next inhale is still stained with the scent of Trigger but there's something stronger in the air that has your jaw dropping to collect more of it.
Rick's scent.
Hot with the bite of his aggression at the scene before him- gun cocked at Trigger's stupid fucking head.
"I warned you," Rick says.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Trigger snarls before his lips quirk in amusement when Rick's hand holding the gun dips lower, Rick's gaze cutting to yours for the briefest of moments. Concern rampant behind his brown eyes as he takes in your state.
Trigger takes advantage of the lapse in Rick's concentration- moves to launch forward but you're quicker. Leg snapping out to meet his injured one and you feel the flesh and bone crack beneath your boot and Trigger screams when he drops. A mix of outrage and surprise and pain that has him turning back towards you in fury, hands clawing in the dirt to reach you.
Rick's on him before you can blink- barrel of his rifle pressed to the side of Trigger's jaw before he fires once- then again only higher- and Trigger is nothing but a wet puddle soaking the dirt. You'd flinch at the violence Flag has used against Trigger if you could dreg up a modicum of sympathy for the asshole but you can't. Not when the phantom of Trigger's hands still presses into your skin- and so you focus on Rick instead.
He's already gathering you up in his arms and running. Long legs eating up the ground beneath you as he moves towards Boomerang’s section.
The scent of Rick is overwhelming to you and your already fried nerves. It's like electricity runs over your skin wherever he touches you. The contact of him against you only drives your need higher and you can't help your cry when he sets you down and his hands leave your body.
"I know, sweetheart," Rick says, deep voice lowered to soothe as he rifles through the utility pouch strapped to one of his thick thighs. Rick kneels beside you- gaze trained somewhere over you and you hear someone moving near your head before Rick's looking at you again. Brown eyes concerned beneath his furrowed brow. "I know it hurts, honey. Hold on."
"Shit, Flag," Boomerang’s voice shouts over you and you flinch beneath the angry Alpha's tone. "Fucking take care of her before we all cark it," Boomerang orders before the sharp sound of gunfire erupts somewhere just outside your awareness.
Rick ducks down- face swimming closer in your narrowed vision and you keen at the proximity.
Fuck, he smells so good. Like cozy nights around the campfire. Warm and safe and amazing.
There's a rolling chuckle above you and you sigh- soft and pleased.
You made your Alpha laugh.
A sweet pleasure bleeds into the pain that wracks you- a nice reprieve from the moments you've been gasping through. Your vision widens- takes in most of Rick's broad frame- enough to see his hands uncapping a syringe.
"Lift your shirt, honey," Rick orders and your hands obey with eagerness- pull the hem of your shirt to your ribs before one of his hands wraps firmly around your wrist.
"That's enough," he says, a quirk of a smile at his lips which you note are held parted- his chest rising and falling in careful restraint as he breathes you in.
The large hand just beneath yours disappears only to pull at the waistband of your tac pants. It's embarrassing how quickly you lift your hips in response as Rick tugs down the garment but he only yanks it down enough to reveal your hips.
"Take a deep breath, darlin'," Rick orders and you nod loosely, just grateful to have his touch on you until it bites at your lower stomach where his warm hand is spread. It's suddenly sharp and stinging just inside your hip and you flail under his hold.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Rick says, voice strained with something you suddenly can't name anymore as the curtain in front of your awareness thins. Slides to nothing- like it had never been there in the first place. Rick withdraws the syringe and cracks it in his fist, bending the sharp on his boot and tossing it into the foliage behind him while his other hand straightens your clothing.
"Is it working?" Rick asks- face concerned as he's searching yours before you scoot to sit up on the crate that Boomerang crouches behind.
It's all you can do to nod- a tiredness pulling at what feels like your bones.
"Smells like it," Boomerang supplies in between gunfire and you manage to mutter a soft fuck you at him even as you rub at your throat in embarrassment.
Rick's gaze cuts to Boomerang's back in disapproval before it settles back on you- relief in his features until his gaze falls to your shoulder.
Rick startles. Stares at the injury like he's surprised he didn't notice it earlier. He sucks in a breath before he swallows hard, hands diving back into the pouch at his leg to pull out more medical supplies. When his hands reach forward to collect your shoulder you note there's no maddening need to throw yourself into his grasp. But Rick's hands shake as he injects the blood clotting cream into the wound and you clamp your hand over your throat even harder, hoping to dampen some of your scent from before he'd treated your heat. Worried that you've weakened the team- compromised the mission and it will get back to Waller.
"Did they tell you?" Boomerang's voice cuts back to the two of you and Rick lifts his head from where he's bandaging your shoulder.
"Tell me what?" Rick says, jaw clenched when Boomerang meets his gaze and Boomerang catches his meaning with a shrug of his shoulders before his attention falls to you.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Wouldn't have made those jokes if I’d known," Boomerang says and Rick's warning growl draws both your attention.
"Known what?" Rick almost roars, challenge clear in his narrowed eyes and Boomerang shrugs his shoulders again.
"Nothing," Boomerang replies and then he's back shooting. You consider his apology before his question weighs heavier in your mind.
"Did they?" you turn to Rick, his focus on arming himself and you once more.
He thrusts a gun into your hand and meets your eyes for a long moment before he shakes his head.
"No- but I figured there had to be someone. They don't usually add the emergency suppressants to my mission kits. Not unless-," Rick says, suddenly avoiding your eyes, his teeth gritted like he's said too much.
"Unless what?" you ask.
"Unless you're assigned," he says with a sigh, an apologetic look. Like he pities you.
A new ugly flame of fury ignites in you- alongside the one that burns at the betrayal of your body- you're upset at Waller.
Did she have to make it so fucking obvious?
Rick seems to sense your rage because he sighs in sympathy but you're already scrambling to crouch. Intent to drive out any doubt of your abilities and skills through sheer force. Boomerang adjusts himself beside you, let's you slide into the opening at his side with a look back at Rick that you don't care to decipher.
You don't miss the next shot. Or the next hundred.
|=
The missions bleed into each other and you hardly notice that you're assigned to more except for the fact that you have to watch Waller's smirk every time she passes the med kit to Rick before the team disembarks and her gaze slides to you like she's apologizing for your sake.
You have nothing to be sorry for, you seethe.
Not when it was her own damn suppressants that failed you.
You're three times over your usual dose and some days there's a nagging sense in the back of your mind telling you that soon even that won't be enough. But Waller keeps you riding the edge of your heats like setting you on the edge of a knife- waiting for you to fall and fuck up. One less Omega for her to deal with, you realize with bitterness and fear alike. Wondering when you'll stop being a walking prophecy and instead be a dead one. Another failure of Task Force X- of your biology.
The only ones sympathetic to your plight are ironically your teammates. More empathy in a drop of their blood than Waller's entire being. They know what it means for you to get out. The constant need to prove yourself useful so that you won't be removed from the mission roster. Lose any chance of getting out from beneath Waller's thumb.
Harley helps you keep an eye out for any more Triggers of the world in your midst. Identifies the red flags sometimes before you even see them. Navigates the odd social hierarchy of the prison and the missions with her arm threaded through yours and a look on her face that dares anyone to fuck around and find out.
Boomerang slips you extra rations and doesn't tease you as much as before. Sometimes you think you hear a smidge of respect and awe in his tone when he watches you work- suspect that he's never seen an Omega of your build and bravado. A soft regard in his usual rough demeanor that says he's impressed that you're enough to compete with the best Alphas.
You dump your sweat and blood- and when no one's looking- your tears into the missions like never before. Unwilling to give Waller another millimeter of justification to pull you from the roster.
You vow to not show weakness in front of Flag. It's hard when he cements himself to your side- refuses to leave you alone during active combat. Towers at your back- oozing menace and protection at your enemies to the point of distraction. To the point that one day when you all return to camp- sweaty and exhausted and swaying on your feet- you snap.
Growl when his hand wraps around your elbow- gently pulls you back to center when you sway a little too far off your balance as you wait in line for the showers. The need for sleep nearing hauling you to your knees.
Rick's hand disappears from you faster than a blink and he murmurs an apology through the reflexive growl in his own chest and you hate that you know it's for both of his actions.
You know he's not angry with you- just sitting high on the adrenaline of the last few days- his hackles raised to challenge any perceived threat to his position as team leader. Rick's not reactive like that- at least never with you. It's in the apology he offers as soon as the first vibrations start in his chest, shaking the air between you.
"Sorry- I just didn't want you to fall," he supplies- so soft and sweet that you almost tear up, instead turning your head from where you'd been glaring at him to stare at the shower door where Boomerang idles behind it. On purpose- you think- with the way his voice lifts on a song that sounds far too pleased for the simple luxury of warm water.
"I'm fine," you retort, ignoring Rick's huff behind you, the shuffle of his feet on the gravel as he tries not to argue with that obviously false statement. You know that you're a liability to this team but you can't help but be annoyed at how much he cares.
"I don't need your pity," you throw out, careless in a way that's dangerous in the presence of some Alphas- arms folded tightly over your chest and you stiffen when you hear the hitch of breath behind you. Shrink as you close your eyes and wait for the impending storm of Alpha rage to descend on you.
"Is that what you think? Is that why you're running yourself ragged?" Rick's voice lifts softly behind you and your shoulders drop a fraction.
"Think that you have something to prove to me, darlin'?" he continues, voice heavy with a sigh.
When you only return silence Rick pulls himself upright from where he slouches on the pillar, walks around to your front- hand finding your chin and lifting it so you meet his eyes.
Rick's jaw is set- teeth clenched not in anger but in earnest as his large brown eyes search yours.
"Does this feel like pity?" Rick asks, eyebrows quirking- imploring you to sense the energy radiating from him. The heady scent of him that concentrates just beyond his hand on your chin. Your lips part- trying to draw in as much of his scent from his wrist where it hovers between you before you shake your head because no- It's not pity. It's never been pity. This is potent Alpha protectiveness. Your mind short circuits for a brief moment- wonders what it would feel like if Rick was your Alpha. How the protectiveness would shift. The potent quality of it now already nearly knocks you off your feet- but what if it was more?
"Good," Rick says, hand dropping from your face before he strides out of view. Leaving you to stare at the empty spot that was him and the shower door beyond as Boomerang appears- flashes you a devilish smirk before he holds the door open for you in a fashion that is far too chivalrous for his usual self.
You hear Rick's huff and Boomerang's amused chuckle when you step inside the room.
That night instead of crying in your tent you cum hard around your fingers- imagining Rick's hand instead of your own. What it would be like to be his- an idea you haven't dared entertain since the embarrassing mission where you're pretty sure you'd voiced that thought out loud.
|=
From that day on you pay closer attention to how Rick treats you.
Suddenly it makes sense how quickly Rick had appeared on the day of that mission with Trigger. Rick knew he needed to get to you. Maybe even before Boomerang had alerted him over the comms. Rick must have known from the second or third mission where you were assigned to his team that you were an Omega. He's a smart man- and Waller hadn't been subtle.
And yet he'd never treated you differently. Never hesitated to ask your opinion on strategy- relied on you for some of the most skilled tasks during missions. Trusted you to brew the team coffee every morning and not burn it- or poison it- like some had according to him.
Rick trusted you.
Hadn't started coddling you until recently.
You're staked out on a hill, monitoring the compound below you with Rick beside you when you broach the topic.
"You've always let me do a recce on my own," you say, trying to keep your voice casual even as Rick stiffens beside you, caught off guard by your clear challenge of his team assignments.
"Afraid I'm gonna go rogue?" you tease, biting your cheek when you realize the alternate to your scenario- the one that could be you descending back into the uselessness of your hindbrain. Rick seems to gather where your mind has drifted because he lowers the binocs and stares at you until you lift your gaze to his. Like what he has to say is important and he needs you to know it.
"What happened back there wasn't an accident,” Rick says, voice hardened- brown eyes set on you with a fierceness that makes you squirm.
Did he think you'd activated your heat on purpose?
You scramble to address the accusation.
"You think I did that on purpose?" you ask, voice edged with anger. You thought he trusted you but what if all this was Waller's protocol- to ensure you didn't weaken the team under the guise of an accident. Rick's eyes widen at your response- the tight set of your jaw and then he's the one scrambling.
"Shit, no darlin'- that's not what I meant-," Rick says, eager to dispel the notion, taking a deep steadying breath before he continues. Rick clicks off his comm and nods at you to do the same of yours. When the line empties Rick speaks.
"I think Waller replaced your suppressants with a slow acting activator," Rick tells you, brows drawn down and mouth a tight frown when he finishes. Suddenly you realize he's waiting for your input.
"I took an extra dose that morning because Trigger was looking at me like I was a meal. I thought it would help-" you explain and Rick nods.
"I know," he gruffs.
"What?"
"I can hear the pills in your bag and when you take them in your tent," Rick supplies and suddenly you're burning inside- wondering what else his super serum Alpha hearing is capable of picking up.
Fuck, had you moaned his name last night when you came?
Nothing in Rick's features indicates anything of the sort and you breathe a short sigh of relief until he speaks.
"I can smell you," Rick says, gaze held carefully away from you when he says it.
"I- w-what-?" you stutter, wondering if pitching yourself down the cliff and into your enemies grasp would be a quicker death than the one you're about to die of. Embarrassment chokes off your words.
"Your scent-" he grits out, takes a deep breath- through his mouth you note- tasting the air that surrounds the two of you like he's trying to gather it, memorize it. Like you might never sign onto his missions again after this conversation.
"It's always been sweet. Ever since we first met," Rick admits, eyes flicking to yours briefly.
"I don't think she gave you enhancers then. Not until we started working together," he reports and you're inclined to agree. Rick's scent has always been strongest on missions. You'd always assumed it was the close quarters- the sweat and grime of your shared work. The lack of bars and glass that typically keeps you apart.
"But it was so strong. Even then," Rick admits, heaves a nervous breath as he shares this intimate awareness of you.
"Yours was too," you quickly chirp, eager to soothe his anxieties and Rick gives a soft smile- shorter than you wanted but it's enough to make you swell with pride.
"It's not just the strength… you smell good," he says, nearly snarling the final word and the deep gravel of his tone drags over you somewhere in your gut and then lower.
"Christ, even with the suppressants I knew you were the best smelling Omega I'd ever known," Rick says. "So when it started concentrating on the missions I knew something was off. Can see how hard you try to hide yourself."
"And I didn't know if you and Harley- or Boomer- if you had something going on that could have been causing it-" he tells you.
"They're my friends," you tell Rick. "They're on suppressants too. They wouldn't have been able to tell if I was an Omega. Waller medicates the Alphas too."
"I figured." Rick nods.
"But an activator would overpower even that," you say, realization dawning.
"That's how I knew," Rick says and you nod in agreement.
"But why-" you ask and Rick smiles but you hate it- how it doesn't reach his eyes- how it's full of sarcasm- lips pulled tight over his bared teeth.
"What better way to take out a Task Force X team than throwing a heated Omega into their midst?" he supplies- the words dry in his mouth when he continues, "Just a bunch of Alphas ripping each other apart," he says and you shudder.
"Trigger was there to act as his namesake I think. Someone to kick off the claim ruts," Rick whispers, but you don't miss the way his voice is hardened with steel, eyes drawn back and flaring with the muzzle flash of his rifle from that day.
"You think he and Waller-" you ask, horror filling your entire being. Rick's nostrils flare as he huffs, eyes cutting away from you as his fists clench before his head drops. A startling display of submission as anger rolls through his frame.
"I hesitated-" Rick chokes out into the dirt and you don't know what he means until he continues.
"When I saw him- I shot him in the leg without a thought just to get his fucking hands off you and then I-" Rick heaves a growl that sounds pained- anguished. Your hand is on his shoulder in an instant- squeezing- anchoring him and Rick shifts beneath your touch- lifts his head to find your gaze- eyes fierce upon you.
"I'm sorry, Omega- I hesitated and it would have cost you everything-" Rick says and you realize you haven't been the only one berating yourself over that day.
"Rick-" you breathe out, intent to calm his self admonishment. "It's okay. You protected me,"
He only shakes his head, grits his teeth.
"I should have-" he begins but you cut him off by soothing your fingers over his face, the hard set of his jaw clenching beneath them. Your purr is soft- barely a sound but Rick's eyes close when the faint click of it reaches his ears, the first flicker of something like peace that you've ever seen aside from when he's asleep flashing over his face under your reassuring gesture. But then his brows are furrowing, a large hand coming up to grasp yours and pull it away. You fret at the action and Rick is quick to speak.
"I don't deserve you, Omega," he says. "Especially not you calling me your Alpha," he adds, large brown eyes solemn.
Sadness fills you as you bring your hand back to yourself and Rick resumes monitoring the compound below you in silence. You're tired of things being decided for you. Of everything in your life being out of your control. Omega or not you want to be able to make your own decisions. And Rick is someone that you've wanted for a long time.
It's what bolsters your voice when you speak.
"Then why do you keep protecting me?" you ask.
Rick sighs before he turns back to you.
"I'm scared Waller's going to alter your meds again. That next time it happens you'll be too far away for me to reach you in time," Rick explains.
"So that's it?" you ask, voice bolder than you thought. He shoots you a warning glare but you continue anyway.
"You're just following your training?" you ask and something in the way Rick huffs tells you that you should back off but you don't- keep pushing the subject with a force that surprises even you.
"There's no other reason?" you query, your own anger igniting when Rick growls low.
"Quit," he orders but the word is clipped with restraint and something darker in his eyes.
"No- I'm not going to stop until-" you begin and suddenly Rick has you pinned beneath him- both wrists caught up in one of his- his thumb working reflexively over one of your scent glands.
"Enough, Omega," Rick grinds out, large body trembling over yours where your legs are trapped beneath his but you note that he doesn't use his Alpha commands- never has on you.
"Until what?" he asks, voice hard as he searches your face.
"Until I bring you back to Waller's prison covered in my scent, filled with my seed and give her everything she wants?" Rick asks and even though you keen at his words- desperate for them- a deep seated dread fills you just as the same as it does him.
"What do you think happens then?" Rick asks again and you blink back tears, avoiding his gaze when his mouth drops to your jaw and he inhales deeply. Pulls your scent into his mouth with a greediness that sends your hips rutting into his.
"Tell me," he orders and you whimper, struggling into a submission that you hadn't anticipated when you started this. You shake your head adamantly, sobbing out a no, refusing to put words to Rick's irrefutable logic.
He sighs into your throat, breath stuttered with his own sob.
"I'll tell you what happens, darlin'," Rick says, voice softer as you cry beneath him, "You'll be removed from my team, locked up somewhere I'll never see you again. No chance of getting out. Of working off your sentence with Waller," Rick heaves out, voice strained with pain. "And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened," he finishes before disengaging from you. Rises to his feet, the separation between you like a wound- sharp and raw.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Rick says, the words filled with regret and pain and you curl away from them- away from him with a loud sniffle.
"This-" Rick says, the thread between you reverberating with your frustration. "This has to be enough," he says and you don't know if it's for you or himself. A reminder of all the ways you're allowed to exist to him and the ways you can't.
"Okay," you whisper even though it isn't. Feels like it never will be for as long as you live.
Rick crouches, smooths a large hand over your face and crown- activates your comm with a crackle and helps pull you to sitting. For a long time you stay in his arms, trying to contain your cries as Rick holds you firmly to his chest until eventually Boomerang's voice appears in your ears, hailing you both back to camp.
The walk back is quiet. Heavy with the confessions and realizations shared as the sun sets. The golden light splaying over Rick's wide shoulders where he strides ahead of you in a way that makes you jealous. Mounts your frustration to near bursting so that when you return to camp you brush past Boomer and whatever silly quip he has about you and Rick being on watch together and collapse in your tent.
Upset as you are, you try to keep your cries quiet now that you're aware of Rick's super hearing. He's only trying to protect you. Why make him suffer more than he already has? The next day you put on a neutral face even as your heart lies shattered in your chest and try to keep up with the team as best you can. Wondering if Waller's plan might have been multifaceted- you're so distracted that when the next mission comes around you decline it. Afraid you'll get someone hurt with how fractured your mind feels- all your focus pulled onto Rick.
|=
At first Rick thinks that you're avoiding him. He doesn't resent you for it- only wishes that he could see you for more than brief glances into the common space at the prison. Wishes he could hear your voice- see the way your eyes sparkle when you smile- make sure that you're eating enough. Swallowing his pride, Rick checks in on you through Harley and Boomerang- gathers enough to set his mind at ease when he finds out you're not signing up for other missions instead of his ones.
But then he arrives at the prison one day to collect his team and the red alarms start screeching loud and constant. Alpha fight. Your section. Rick's moving before his mind catches up. When he arrives to your section the guards are subduing Harley who’s screaming bloody murder- only pausing when she spots Rick through the glass.
"Rick!" she hollers, fighting against her restraints with renewed zeal- surprising the guards and Flag when she breaks free and runs towards him. Hands slamming the glass with every word she speaks.
"Wallah's got her and Boomie on fuckin Mahloy's team. Can ya believe that?" Harley asks, waits for the understanding to arrive in Rick's face, smiles wide when it does although Rick sees the furrow between her different colored brows.
"Go get em tigah!" Harley screams through the glass as the guards collect her once more- now much more subdued than a moment ago and Rick knows why Harley and Boomer weren't on the team roster this morning.
Waller's trying to keep this under wraps.
Rick storms through the prison, arrives at Waller's office and wrenches open the locked door with ease. Slams it open and ten pairs of startled eyes settle on him where he takes up the entire door frame. There's one pair of eyes held carefully away from his bristling form.
Waller's.
"Where the fuck did you send Malloy's team?" Rick demands.
Waller smiles for a flash at the monitors overhead before she frowns and regards Rick.
"If I didn't know you Flag, I'd say you're behaving like an unhinged Alpha," Waller says and Rick bites back his growl.
"Where. Is. She." Rick grits out, uncaring at the collective gasp that ripples through the room. The quirk of Waller's lip.
"To finish what she couldn't the first time," Waller says and Rick seethes.
A Beta stands behind Waller.
"They're heading to Leece, Rick. Left two hours ago," the woman says, eyes glinting in solidarity even as Waller's head snaps towards her.
"Stand down, Beta. This isn't your fight," Waller orders and the woman merely clenches her fists.
"It is now," the woman replies and Waller huffs a laugh before turning back to Rick only to find him gone.
Waller growls at Rick's absence before she laughs maniacally.
"Just wait until he finds out Malloy's emergency kit is useless,” she says before the back of her head lights up with pain and the world goes dark.
|=
It starts on the plane this time. You're strapped into a seat in the deepest part of the hull- furthest from the ramp and with Boomer sitting like a pillar of animosity between you and the rest of Malloy's team.
You'd warned him. Drew the rag up over his face when the fog of your thoughts began to form before you’d boarded the plane. Told him about why the last time had gone as it did and what you think will happen this time. Boomer's hands are white across his knuckles where he grips his weapon, eyes cutting over the company surrounding you as he takes short sips of the air through the cloth.
"Think Waller fucked with my meds too," Boomer tells you under his breath, his voice a near constant growl.
"Not surprised. She hates when her plans don't work out the first time," you say, fingers clutching the straps that hold you upright in your seat as pain courses through you. Boomer groans beside you, boot tapping a nervous pattern on the metal when the Alpha across from you suddenly rouses from his sleep- eyes settling sharp and hungry upon you.
Your stomach swoops as the plane turns into its descent and you unclasp the buckle of your straps when you see the Alpha across from you do the same.
"Stay behind me, love," Boomerang orders when he stands and steps forward, intercepting the path of the Alpha towards you.
Malloy perks up in his seat at the confrontation.
"Settle down boys there's no need to fight-" but the words die in his throat once he's tasted the air. Eyes finding your form as you hang on the netting of the hull to remain upright and the men in front of you.
"Oh fuck," Malloy says, hands scrabbling for his emergency kit. The woman beside him snatches it from his grip.
"Hold on, Mal. Don't you think we deserve this? Why else would Waller place an Omega on our team?" the woman says with a slick smile turned towards you.
"Give that back, Parasythe," Malloy orders but there's a waver in his voice.
A man beside Parasythe pipes up.
"I heard about this. She's the bitch that killed Trigger!" he accuses, thrusts a finger at you before he unbuckles and stands. Boomer's got one hand wrapped around the front of the original Alpha's armor, holding him at bay but his focus diverts to the new threat.
"Malloy get your fucking team in check," Boomer orders and Malloy's scrambling to obey, hands lifting his gun to Parasythe.
"Give me the fucking kit, Parasythe. Or we're all dead before this plane touches ground," Malloy barks and Parasythe seems to consider his words for a moment. You're too focused on the man that was beside her as he approaches, fighting the gravity to reach you. You edge along the hull, approaching a man that keeps his gaze held carefully to the floor. When you get to just before arm's reach his gaze flicks to you, fear all over his face and a plea behind his eyes not to approach. But he's represented less of an issue than the rest so you press forwards.
He startles, jumps up and darts across the hull, knocking into Parasythe and the kit falls from her grip. Parasythe snarls- hands wrapping around the man's neck before she pauses.
"You're like her," Parasythe hisses into his face as he shakes his head furiously.
Now the man's behavior makes sense. The careful avoidance of you- the fear that he'd have to mimic an Alpha if you neared him. You can only hope he'll survive Parasythe's murderous wrath as Malloy collects the kit. Behind you there's the sound of fists and wood hitting flesh. Pained and strained grunts as Boomerang tries to keep the two Alpha's at bay.
Malloy drags you to the ramp and begins rifling through the kit, eyes intent on the threats behind you.
"I'm sorry- Waller didn't tell me about you," Malloy cringes and looks at Parasythe and the man clawing back at her, "Or Petri. If I had known I never would have let you on my missions."
You snort derisively at the captain's attitude.
"We're not useless. Petri's holding his own," you say, chin tipping at the Omega that's effectively restraining Parasythe.
"Bet Waller didn't fuck with his meds like she did mine," you spit as Malloy produces the syringe of suppressant. He looks at it uncertainly before you.
"Do you know how to use this?" Malloy asks and you gape at him.
"They trained you for this," you say even as you collect the syringe and pull up your shirt, slamming it into the softness of your lower stomach.
"I wasn't paying attention- never thought that I'd ever have to-," Malloy says sheepishly and you scoff, roll your eyes for a brief moment so you can keep Boomer's progress in your sights.
"Whatever. It's not working," you report, grab the blade at your thigh and post up to fight anyone that gets past Boomer.
"What?!" Malloy gasps, fear filling his face once more.
"It's not working," you gruff. "Actually I think it's made it worse," you say with a cringe, blade clanging on the metal as your knees join where it's fallen.
The world jumps and jumps and your joints scream as the plane lands.
Beyond you Malloy hits the ramp switch. You feel the vibrations beneath you as it falls and thunks into the ground before Malloy's dragging you backwards. Where Malloy's footsteps descend another pair stomps up.
The smell of pine and wood smoke and Rick fills your senses. There's a terse conversation above you before Malloy's grip renews and you're dragged once more. Rick's broad frame climbs the ramp and disappears into the hull just as Malloy tugs you behind a tree.
"You need to help- help him," you urge Malloy when he merely frets in front of you.
"He's gone against procedure. Against Waller. She'll have both our heads," Malloy tells you.
"She'd have you dead. Why do you think the serum didn't work?" you retort and Malloy's gaze settles on you with disbelief.
"The only reason it didn't work is because you're mated to Flag!" Malloy says, outraged that you'd think otherwise.
You lift your chin, displaying your scent glands.
"Not mated," you grit out. "Waller's doing. All of it."
Malloy seems to consider your words before he sighs, hesitation gripping his features.
"Well, you two smell the same," Malloy tells you, "Has to mean something."
"Not if we all die here," you say, gathering a storm behind your gaze and you direct it at Malloy.
"Alright, jeez I'm going," Malloy says before he rises and trots out of view.
An eternity later Boomerang appears at your side- bloody and grinning like a fool. His hands sweep over your face as he looks you over before his smile drops into a concerned frown.
"Is Rick-?" you ask weakly and Boomer nods with his whole body.
"He's fine sweetheart, just wrapping up things with Malloy. You on the other hand-" Boomer's voice drops off as he registers your sweaty, breathless form.
"The serum didn't work?" Boomer asks, more out of politeness because your scent is so strong that he's not sure how Flag hasn't ripped him away from you yet.
You shake your head.
"Shit," Boomer curses before he stands and stalks off.
More eternity. It's all pain and need until Rick appears and you groan.
Rick drops to his knees- hands carefully lifting your face to his. Rick presses a soft kiss to your lips and your body reacts with fervor, hands scrambling up in his armor and tugging him to you but Rick doesn't budge. You whine- nearly cry when he pulls away and shakes his head.
"Not like this, sweetheart. I'm getting you out of here," Rick says.
"What about Waller?" you manage, surprised that the thought has formed even with the heavy curtain over your thoughts.
"Waller's been demoted," Rick informs you.
"The chip?" you ask weakly as Rick hauls you into his arms and starts carrying you towards the tarmac.
"Deactivated permanently," Rick tells you, remembering the conversation he had with the beta, Kit, back at base. Rick diverts from your predicted path of the plane to a truck across from it just as Boomer arrives, holding up an emergency kit with a grin.
"Pilots got their own personal kit," Boomer informs you before Rick is setting you down in the backseat of the truck. They make short work of administering the medication and you all wait with held breaths until you suck in air that's not choked with pain or need.
"You're a genius, Boomie," you tell your friend and he smiles before he looks between you and Rick.
"Where are you headed?" he asks.
"Somewhere safe. Lie low for a bit. There's gonna be some reforms to Waller's system. Figured we'd wait those out," Rick says.
"Is that allowed?" you ask.
"When have you ever been concerned about what's allowed?" Boomer teases before he slaps the roof of the truck.
"Well, I'm off to help Malloy give a little lectie to his team," Boomer says.
"Give 'em hell, Boomie," you say and he salutes you with a smile that softens when he sees the thank you in yours.
Boomer punches Rick's shoulder playfully before jabbing a finger in his face.
"Keep that one safe or Harley will have your ass quicker than shit, yeah?" Boomie says and Rick smiles through a short nod before he helps you into the passenger seat and you go your separate ways.
|=
The neon lights of the diner sign behind your head buzzes as you sag into the booth with a satisfied sigh. The cleared plates separate you from Rick where he regards you seriously across the table.
"The only time I've seen you look that serious is when you're thinking of breaking rank," you tell Rick with a smile that he doesn't return. Not even a little bit and you worry.
Rick sighs before he shifts in the booth.
"What I told Boomer wasn't entirely true," he admits with a sigh.
"Boy scout Flag is a liar?" you quip, enjoy the warning look Rick throws at you even as his lips quirk slightly.
"I have no intention of bringing you back there. Even with Waller gone," Rick says, no hesitation in his admission.
Your eyebrows almost reach the ceiling.
"Are you saying I'm a fugitive? And you're aiding and abetting?" you ask.
Rick shakes his head.
"You never should have been in there. Kit sent me your file and I read it on the way over," he says. "You saved a kid."
"I killed someone," you say quietly.
"Out of self defense," he replies.
"Doesn't change the fact that they're dead because of me. No matter the reason," you say.
"They deserved it," he counters.
"And justice says I deserved this sentence. I should be nearly done working it off," you reply.
"Justice also allowed Trigger to work off his. How does that make sense?"
You shrug because it doesn't.
"And you've already worked off your sentence," Rick says.
"What?" you ask, shock sending you to the edge of your seat.
"Waller didn't notify you. Didn't notify anyone. Just let you keep volunteering." Rick bites off the words. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I've processed your release and you're free to do whatever you want now. You don't have to stay with me. There's a bag in the back of that truck with everything you need to start a new life.”
"So that's it?" you ask, mirroring your words from that day on the hill.
Rick stiffens across from you.
"There's no other reason?" you ask, eyes glittering with challenge and Rick takes a sharp breath when he meets it.
"There might be another," Rick tells you, hand fidgeting with his empty coffee mug as he smiles to himself.
You lean forwards, hands wrapping around his, fingers trailing to his wrist and then further, letting your scent gland brush over his, enjoy the way Rick's lips part and his eyes close at the contact.
"Darlin' keep that up and this whole diner's gonna know all my reasons,” Rick says, the warning light over his tongue as his other hand grasps yours, pressing your gland further into his own. Brown eyes snap open when he hears your short intake of breath and the way you squirm in your seat. Catches the needy sound you make that you try to bury in your throat from the noise of the diner around you.
Rick releases your hands only as long as it takes to slam a few bills onto the table and then he's collecting you from the booth and pushing you out of the diner and into the truck. His large hand never leaves yours until it’s doing all the things that you- and Rick, too, as he tells you through fervent kisses- imagined doing in your tents for so long.
|=
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