Chapter Text
Dennis Whitaker had spent most of his adult life pretending. Pretending he wasn’t homeless, pretending he wasn’t hungry, pretending he was confident, but most of all pretending he wasn’t an omega. He had presented at the age of sixteen, a late bloomer compared to his four older alpha brothers. It had been the talk of town back home. There weren’t a lot of male omegas to begin with, and in Broken Bow he was the first in almost sixty years. It had ruined whatever little peace he’d had in his life. He’d been so sure he’d be a Beta at the very least. Being an omega, had meant he was some sort of abomination in his church, his family. It was a sign of some sort of sin he’d committed to deserve it in their eyes. It had given him even more of a reason to leave. He’d thrown himself into his studies, now that his family expected him to do nothing but help his mother in the kitchen. Without the farm chores, he’d been able to graduate with a 4.0. It was his ticket out, he’d told his family he wanted to go to college for theology. He’d told them all he wanted to be in children’s ministry, and it had made his mother cry with pride.
It was after his first semester that he took his parents off of everything records related and changed his major. Pre-med. He’d fought hard, taking every scholarship he could get and throwing himself into everything. Every class he could take, every bit of work he could find. He’d made it, and med school had no longer been a dream that lingered on the edge of his mind. The homelessness that had come during rotations was the hardest thing he’d been through in a long time. When he’d found the eighth floor it had been a dream. When Trinity had found him, it was like his life was finally looking up. He figured he’d paid for whatever sin had made it a nightmare so far.
Trinity was an omega too, though she did not act like one at all. Not like the ones he’d grown up around, but he assumed he wasn’t like them either. He had settled into life with her pretty easily. He let himself become more open, letting her drag him into things that made him feel more like an omega. She’d taught him how to make a nest, how to relax and enjoy the little things that were special.
He was loving his emergency rotation, his friends, and though it was a lot he’d gotten used to the way it worked. He’d joined the street team after his first day, despite Dr. Robby telling him that it could be dangerous for someone like him. That had only made him feel like he needed to prove that just because he was an omega he didn’t need to be babied. He’d joined up, never hesitating to go into the warehouses and abandoned homes. He’d lived this life before, he knew what it was like to be on the streets. It had given him a connection point and he used it to make people trust him.
It had been just another day, he’d actually finished up with the street team already and was making the walk back to Trinity’s apartment. He heard groaning from down an alleyway, and he knew he should ignore it. He knew he should call for help, an ambulance or the police. Then the groans got more strangled sounding and he knew he couldn’t wait for help. He turned on his phone flashlight stepping back into the alleyway. “Hello?” He called out following the sound. His heart was racing in his chest, and he fought down the anxiety trying not to turn and run. Someone needed his help, and he would blame himself forever if he didn’t help and he read about it in the news later. “Hello?” He called again and there was a choked out sound in response.
Dennis swallowed roughly moving to follow it and when he turned the corner around the dumpster he saw the man. Blood was everywhere. His chest, his stomach, his face. Dennis dropped down next to him, looking for the source of the blood. “It’s okay… I’m a doctor… it’s going to be okay.” He said though the man’s eyes were cloudy as they finally looked at him. He could smell, even through the blood that the man was an alpha. It had him on edge, but he was too worried about stopping the bleeding to think of anything else. He cut the man’s shirt with the scissors he still had from his work on the street team earlier. It was pretty obvious now where the blood was coming from as he stared down at what was clearly a bullet wound. He cursed under his breath, taking the cut shirt and holding pressure. He needed to call for help, and he grabbed his phone dialing 911. He told them where he was, and what was happening before dropping the phone to focus on what he was doing.
“My name is Dennis, I’m a doctor… you got shot. You’re bleeding, and I’m putting pressure on it.” He said, trying to get his attention. “What’s your name?” He asked, trying to see if he was responsive.
The man’s eyes landed on him, and despite how unfocused they were a moment ago, they were suddenly sharp and focused. It sent a shudder down Dennis’s spine, and he knew it was adrenaline pumping through the man. “Pope.” Was all he said, and Dennis nodded. Dennis moved to lean forward, going to check his pulse when it happened. One second he’d been leaned over, his hand on the man, Pope’s, neck and the next thing he knew there was a blinding pain, and he was being held down by a heavy arm. He managed to wrench himself back, pressing harder on the bullet wound. It made Pope let go, and he scrambled back, his eyes wide as the man rolled and coughed up blood.
Dennis’s hand went to his own neck, feeling warm wet blood there and he realized what had happened with a sinking feeling. The man on the ground had bitten him, and his stomach dropped when he realized what this meant. This stranger, this man bleeding out in the alleyway, had claimed him. He’d heard about it, growing up, the stories he’d assumed were just made up to scare him away from the city, away from secular life. He hadn’t heard of anyone really who had just been grabbed and claimed.
The sound of an ambulance siren snapped him out of his thoughts and he moved back over to the man now, holding pressure. “Help is here.. it’s going to be okay.” He didn’t know why he was saying this, didn’t know why he was even helping him after he’d done what he had. He couldn’t stop himself though, he was a doctor and the rush of hormones and feelings coursing through him made him feel like he had to be right next to this man.
The paramedics were there in an instant, surrounding them. They went to get Pope onto a stretcher, but the man’s eyes went wide and angry, like a feral trapped animal and his hand grabbed Dennis’s wrist. “Mine.” He growled.
The paramedics let out a breath and nodded getting Pope into the ambulance as Dennis got into the back with him. “Talk to him… keep him alert.” A paramedic told him, as Pope tried to thrash a bit to get them off of him.
Dennis didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know this man, but the paramedics had seen the bite and assumed. “Pope…” he breathed out. “Look at me. They’re going to help you.” He said his voice a bit shaky. He had no idea who this man was, had no idea what he had done to get shot, and now he was tied to him forever. The man seemed to calm when Dennis touched his hand, so he held it gently.
The paramedics checked him over, placing an IV and getting his vitals. They hung a bag of blood, and they were in the ambulance bay of PTMC before they knew it. Dennis cursed at the idea of being at his work, but he knew it was the closest hospital. That was the most important thing when Pope was bleeding out. It was a flurry of movement and Dennis suddenly realized he’d never been on this side of things.
It was Shen who came to the ambulance bay, and Dennis stumbled out after they’d gotten Pope out of the back. The man on the gurney thrashed again the second Dennis was out of sight and nurses and doctors rushed to try and contain him before he flipped the gurney. Dennis hurried over, despite the shouts for him to give them space. The second his hand was on Pope’s arm, the thrashing stopped and his head snapped to looked at him. His eyes were wide and unfocused but they zeroed in on Dennis like a predator chasing its prey.
It took three rounds of sedative before Pope was compliant enough to even begin treating him. It was a through and through gunshot wound, and his arms were covered in cuts with little pieces of glass imbedded in them. He had a few bruises on his face, and a busted lip too and it made Dennis terrified to find out who he had ended up tied to.
It was a whirlwind of paperwork, Dennis considered his next of kin now, and he didn’t know what to possibly fill out. He didn’t know his last name, didn’t know how old he is, his blood type, he didn’t even know if Pope was his real name. He’d approved surgery, knowing it was necessary. As he sat in the family room, the reality of everything hit him as he washed the blood off of his hands. His heart was racing and he couldn’t breathe as he looked at himself in the mirror. The mark on his neck had stopped bleeding, and it was clear and obvious. He’d imagined the day he’d find his mate, the day he’d fall in love and decide he wanted to spend his life with someone. He’d imagined how romantic and special it would be. Now, he was covered in a stranger’s blood with their mark on his neck, and he didn’t know a thing about them. He broke down into tears, a panic attack gripping him as he sank down onto the floor, his arms wrapped around himself.
He didn’t even know if this man was going to stick around when he was healed. He didn’t know who he was, what he’d done to get himself shot, and what he was going to do when he figured out what he’d done when he was overtaken by adrenaline. If that even was why he’d done it. Dennis cried until he couldn’t anymore, and his phone was ringing again and again, calls from Trinity when he hadn’t made it home. He answered after a moment, his voice shaking. “Trinity?” He asked.
Trinity could hear it the second he answered. “Huckleberry what the fuck? Where are you? What happened?” She asked pacing their living room. “You were supposed to be home two hours ago.” She scolded.
Dennis let out a shaking breath, his chest tightening. “I… I’m at the Pitt.” He said his breath still coming too fast. “Can you… I need new clothes.” He said and his mind was racing.
Trinity stopped pacing panic filling her. “Are you hurt? What happened?” She asked moving to grab him a pair of clothes and her keys. “I’m on my way…”
Dennis let out a breath because he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t hurt technically, but he felt like he was dying. “I… I’ll tell you when you get here.” He said, not sure he could manage to do this over the phone when he felt like he was falling apart.
Trinity felt her stomach dropping at that. Whatever had happened, he was clearly panicking. The fact that he couldn’t seem to talk about it, had her assuming the absolute worst. “I’ll be there in ten minutes okay? Just… just hold on okay?”
Dennis nodded though she couldn’t see him. “Okay.” He said quietly, “thank you Trin.” He added, leaning back against the wall where he was balled up in the corner.