Chapter Text
The greatest tragedy of Jung Hoseok’s arrival to the Kim Estate, Seokjin thinks bleakly- is simply how immeasurably ill-timed it all was.
(He remembers how small he seemed, stepping into Namjoon’s halls, clad in the feminine blue and golds of his homeland. It didn’t take much to see the way Namjoon’s alpha wanted to rid the omega of those colors in favor of the forest greens of the Kims. Seokjin recalls the gold of his hairpin matching the sun-kissed skin of his cheeks.)
They’d done their best to delay it, given the circumstances. There were so many other matters weighing on their minds beyond political matchmaking- negotiations behind closed doors, new treaties signed into accord with packs to the south, coordinating soldiers to aid in minor skirmishes to the east, stirrings of dissent amongst their own court, even a contention claim from the northern Yoos.
(Beomseok’s birth pack, they’ve learned.)
It should have been better than a stilted marriage ceremony. Better than shrouded in the political web of uncertainty hidden under the guise of bettering the future of the Alpha Lord’s lineage.
After everything that’s happened, Seokjin thinks, it’s a phrase that will haunt them all with how often they’ve been hearing it. For allowing it to color their opinions of an omega who had chosen to hide his true self from them all because of it.
(They should have done better.)
Namjoon is a fair lord to the people living on the Kim lands. A nod, certainly, to the way his sire raised him- but even that can’t solve every problem; chief amongst the court the matter of an heir. The Kim Pack’s sole omega rumored barren has been a point of contention they can’t outright deny when the aftermath of his heats brings no belly swelling with pup.
(Not barren, as many believe, but choosing to prevent it. That’s the secret they keep from the court, the council, all in order to protect their omega from being pushed into a life he’s never been interested in.)
Seokjin remembers when Beomseok returned from his meeting with the Jungs.
(Thinking of it now, he doesn’t know how none of them sensed something amiss to begin with.)
“My lord, if I may speak freely… I believe the Jungs may use this as an opportunity to attempt to gain further political footholds.” Beomseok says, delicate as his fingers tap against the table. “They would certainly had reason to- Alpha Jung has been steadily losing favor due to his unusual view regarding packs in more recent years; this may be his last chance to solidify an alliance with a house of power while continuing his bloodline should the omega bear a pup from your coupling.”
Namjoon hums. Seokjin sees the line of tension in his mate’s shoulders as he sighs. “What would you suggest? There are few omegas of suitable age as it is.”
“Caution.” The other alpha finally says. “Jung’s first-born is a mated alpha; his second-born, as far as he’s concerned, is of little use to him within the walls of his own castle. It would be far more a benefit to secure a match with a major house as the Kims. From what I understand, he’s held little luck in mating his omega son elsewhere, which also means if there is an ulterior motive… there’s less to lose.”
All of them shudder at the implications of the words. It wouldn’t be the first time another ruling house had made an attempt on Namjoon’s life- there would always be smaller rival houses vying to claw their way to the top of the pack. Even now, Yoongi and Jimin both were reporting more movements from the smaller northern tribes- including Beomseok’s own sire.
And now they’re here.
It’s too late to do anything but sit numbly with the knowledge that someone within their pack’s inner circle- someone who had managed to get so close to his alpha, his mates- was able to slip through the cracks so easily none of them were able to discern his true intentions until it was too late.
It makes his rankled instincts prickle uncomfortably.
Now, Hoseok and Yoongi have paid the price for their mistakes- Hoseok more than any of them.
They’ve truly miss-stepped so poorly with the quiet omega that there’s no room for doubt as to why he’s chosen to hide himself away, wearing his veil and becoming more a ghost than a person.
Well. Hindsight, as they say, is always clearer. And the curtain has been drawn back now, so firmly that there is no other choice but to see the damage their own actions have wrought with their unintentional cruelty. It wasn’t as if they’d made much effort to include him into their pack, welcome the omega into their den, but that was something they would need to address once they’re past reeling in the wake of the violence that’s come directly to their doors.
The room is, for lack of a word, silent. Lanterns have been lit, herbs burning to cleanse the air of the putrid, lingering sick-hurt-fear-wrong-death scent that’s sunken into every available surface. Somewhere underneath it, he thinks he can still smell the metallic tang of blood, even though he knows it’s been cleansed from the floors by Taehyung’s careful hands.
(Are his hands still shaking?)
Seokjin’s eyes burn. He doesn’t know whether it’s because of the quiet tears he’s wept or the sleepless hours he’s been sitting vigilantly next to the nest containing their most precious treasure, it’s hard to say.
Namjoon hasn’t moved from the corner he’d claimed for himself hours ago, after allowing Jungkook and Taehyung to coax the alpha into swallowing down the herbal tincture the beta knows can be described as unpleasant at best, head in his hands. It wasn’t ideal, breaking a rut-haze or heat, but they needed their pack alpha to be out of the worst of the rut instincts. It’s not enough to keep it entirely at bay; the thick forest scent rolling around the room can attest to that- but it’s enough to buy them enough time for the next few days, reduce the likelihood of any further incidents.
Taehyung’s settled at Namjoon’s feet for the moment, cheek resting on the alpha’s thigh, hands held loosely in his lap, eyes fluttering as he rumbles a beta-hum in an attempt to settle Namjoon.
It’s barely enough, won’t erase the guilt that weighs on his shoulders. On all of their shoulders.
The shock still has yet to fully set in. Seokjin can see it in the careful way everyone is still, holding their breath like they’re all terrified to exhale and break the silence first. Hoseok storming into their nest. Challenging their husband, mate, pack alpha. Forced to submit, face pressed to the floor, lip curled in a way that makes something churn in Seokjin’s belly sickly. He’s never been one for violence, even with his mates coming from all walks of life- Yoongi and Jimin serving in Namjoon’s guard, Namjoon’s council, trusted advisors and strategists.
(He’s always disliked it, but makes up for it in the way he takes them into bed in the quiet hours, holds them, presses his scent into their skin until he feels assured that they’re still his.)
No, his affiliations have always lain in the healing arts; something that suddenly looms impossibly over him as Seokjin closes his eyes, tries to forget the blood that had stained his hands scarce hours earlier as he fought to save Hoseok’s life.
He sucks a breath between his teeth as he thinks about it now. There’s still so much to do, so little he can while there’s still so much of the heavy stress-sickness scent in his nose. The beta should be doing more- there’s still herbs to be ground into pastes, needs to ensure the lingering heat fevers in both of their wounded omegas doesn’t spike any further. Still needs to pull the ointment-soaked cloths from the worst of Hoseok’s injuries and check for infection-
Jimin still hasn’t returned to the nest since he grabbed his blade and stormed from the room, barking orders and baring teeth at anyone who didn’t move swiftly enough. The younger alpha’s instincts are hellbent on protecting his pack, only offset by his equally intense need to hunt down whatever hole Beomseok has managed to crawl into- Seokjin almost pities the alpha, if not for the simmering acid that still sits heavy in his belly each time he looks over their omegas pinched, unsettled features.
Is it enough? A small, vengeful voice in his mind hisses, coiling around his thoughts like a snake. Is any of this enough?
He doesn’t know.
A small, wounded noise hitches in his throat as Seokjin reaches out to touch Yoongi, prove he’s still there, still real. Does the same for Hoseok, palm brushing the loose strands of dark hair off of bruised cheeks, burning eyes welling with tears again.
Betas are supposed to be the unifiers of packs, the ones to bridge gaps between alphas and omegas, the ones to ensure the health of the pack. Yet here are two omegas he’s unable to protect, one he’s failed entirely. His instincts are in tatters; his pack scattered in the midst of injury and guilt and baying for blood. Never mind the tailspin their youngest alpha has been sent into with all of the stress, his own instincts warring whether to join Jimin in his manhunt or stay to guard the nest.
(Thus far, Jungkook’s chosen the latter, which has proven to serve as a balm on Seokjin’s nerves. With so much still going on beyond their doors, the alarms of the estate echoing throughout the now abandoned halls, Seokjin’s unsettled instincts appreciate knowing there’s more than one alpha to guard the nest.)
Granted, the pacing throughout the rooms of their den is beginning to make the beta anxious for entirely different reasons, but there’s nothing to be done for it if he wants to keep the uneasy peace that’s settled over the room.
No.
He’s allowed himself to sit and wallow long enough. His fingers are still itching to make himself useful as he swallows around the heavy stone of guilt in his throat.
However much they might be strangers, the beta’s fragile heart- a bleeding heart, his dam had whispered in his ears as a pup, smoothing her palm over his hair to press soft kisses against his temple- does exactly that when he looks at the omegas.
(He’ll never forget the look in Hoseok’s eyes; the way it was like a candle had been blown out behind his eyes.)
But then Yoongi had gone ashen, choking on his breath scarcely an hour later, it was like the earth had opened its maw below Seokjin’s feet to swallow him whole. Poison- something slow acting, something planned-
He leapt into action with muscle memory alone even as his thoughts were screaming into a hurricane, horror pushed aside in favor of the healer’s hands he’s honed over the years, barking commands for his tinctures and herbs without thought as he tried to save his mate.
(The same poison lingering on Hoseok’s lips-)
He still isn’t out of the worst of it yet, but it’s promising that some of the color has returned to Yoongi’s cheeks; there’s still a hollow sort of blue to his lips and beneath his eyes Seokjin doesn’t trust, but the omega had gained consciousness enough to accept Hoseok into his nest, the pair of them entwined into one another under he and Jungkook and Taehyung’s restless watch.
(No sooner had Seokjin gotten Yoongi breathing again that Yuseong burst into their quarters, alarm on his tongue, alerting the guards-)
A blood trail, a missing omega. Signs of a struggle, broken and torn walls. A scent trail accompanied by blood spatter leading to the old wing, but even then, there was nothing to prepare them for the sight awaiting them.
Hoseok looked even smaller from above, crumpled in the empty nest that had to used to belong to Namjoon’s late dam. Pale and so terribly still; against the stone below him, he might as well have been a corpse as Seokjin and Taehyung leapt into action. He’d been lying there for some time by the look of some of the injuries, the worst of it around his neck and temples. Hot and tacky to the touch; an impact, likely repeated, which only made it worse. Head injuries were notoriously difficult enough to treat, given how hard it was to assess how severe the damage was.
Still, he’d stirred as Seokjin pressed against his chest, checking for a heartbeat, fever hot and trembling as the omega keened. Put up as much a fight he could under the circumstances, whining in pained terror as Taehyung gathered him into his arms, the beta weeping as he tucked the omega’s cheek into the juncture of his collar before they’d pried his mouth open to administer an antidote.
Neither of them will forget the glassy fear, the weak press of the omega’s limbs as he tried to fight off what his instincts were sure were attackers, hitching, sharp exhales as his eyes fluttered, butterfly fragile in the careful cage of Taehyung’s arms.
“Beta?”
Hands, cupping Seokjin’s cheeks, tilting his head gently as Jungkook’s soft cream scent fills his nose, the younger alpha seeking the source of his hurts. His voice is a low rumble, soft compared to the timbre Namjoon’s takes when he’s trying to soothe, but Seokjin hardly cares as he turns his cheek into their youngest’s belly to stifle the soft sobs hitching out of him, fingers clinging to his leg.
Please, by the gods, let them be okay. He pleads heavenward, praying that someone takes mercy on them. Let them be safe.
Let them live.
-
When Hoseok finally wakes long enough to be any measure of coherent, it’s two days later.
It’s wordless, abrupt. A sharp gasp followed by bitter-fever-sweet-sickness-pain as the omega keens, jerking feebly in Yoongi’s secure hold, bitter eucalyptus flooding the room in waves. Seokjin hears the way the room immediately shifts to attention, alphas tensing at an invisible threat.
Taehyung tugs at Jimin, the smaller framed alpha still half-asleep, exhaustion lining every inch of his body, while Jungkook presses a gentle palm into Namjoon’s shoulder to press him back down into the makeshift the younger alpha had made. Jimin has only just managed to allow himself to be coaxed into rest, the alpha forced to give up his hunt for Beomseok- and answers- when the search of the grounds had proven unfruitful.
Namjoon, on the other hand, is still fighting his suppressed rut. His instincts are torn between pressing someone down and mounting them- likely Jungkook, if anyone- and guarding the nest, anxiety lining his broad frame every time there’s so much as a bird call beyond the windows.
Yoongi stirs along the other omega, a concerned, sleepy trill leaving his throat as he blinks sleep-softened eyes open to peer down at the omega in his grasp, a soothing rumble of a purr reverberating in his chest to ease the distressed omega sharing his nest.
Hoseok stiffens- Seokjin sees the way his nostrils flare, eyes rolling in their sockets as he registers the sun-warm citrus the older omega is carefully releasing- before making another softer, unsure keen.
It’s.
Terribly heart breaking, if Seokjin is completely honest with himself.
The younger omega is battered and bruised in more ways than one, dark shadows lingering beneath his eyes in tandem with the equally dark bruises, the cuts Seokjin had forced his hands to be still for as he fought to save the omega’s life from poison and blood loss and heat.
Terrified, too, and in pain as he sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth. Yoongi makes a soft sound of worry, a croon as he carefully shifts to settle them into a more comfortable position. Hoseok follows the motion, a slurred sound of pain leaving his lips. Still, it doesn’t take long for the older omega to carefully encourage him back to sleep, a furrow in his brow the only sign of his own discomfort.
Seokjin slowly moves forward, fingers barely grazing Hoseok’s forehead to check for fever, relieved to find that it’s broken. Yoongi watches him with narrowed eyes, the omega just shy of himself, instincts still at the surface of his mind, though he purrs and accepts the offered hand to run through his hair.
“See, silly alpha? Everything’s fine, we’re okay.” Taehyung is murmuring into Jimin’s ear, the alpha reluctantly allowing the beta to lay back down, broader shoulders wrapping around him as they settle back into tentative rest.
There’s a small gasp from the other pair of alphas, the slick sound of hands-on skin as Jungkook arches against Namjoon with a shiver, mouth parting on a gasp as the pack alpha pushes his fingers down the front of Jungkook’s pants. Settling for both of them, intimate as Namjoon rolls them to hide the younger alpha from view.
“Don’t worry, Yoongi-yah.” Seokjin soothes when the omega’s head comes back up, no doubt able to tell exactly what the alphas are up to in the corner. “Just rest. Rest and regain your strength for hyung, hm? Besides, Hoseok needs you right now.”
“Omega.” Yoongi parrots- close enough, really. “Mine.”
“Yours.” Seokjin agrees. “Ours. Sweet boy deserves far more than we’ve offered him.”
“Ours.” Yoongi hums, already settling back into the plush cushions of his nest, tugging Hoseok closer to him protectively.
Unspoken is the uncertainty of how Hoseok might feel about the change of heart as he begins to heal.
-
When Hoseok was a pup, his sire had taken their pack with him to the sea. Some kind of diplomatic engagement, meetings and conversations that went right over he and Jiwoo’s heads as they giggled and ran hand-in-hand through the sands of the shore. They spent most of the summer there, leaning to sail in the shallows, their dam hovering behind them ensuring neither of them came to harm.
Their sire- one of the rare occasions Hoseok can remember the alpha smiling freely, stroking the hair off their dam’s cheek tenderly- taking his pups out intermittently in the small skiff, salt and sea spray against their skin, wind tugging their hair out of the proper styles as they dug their hands into ropes and guided them to follow the current.
The rocking lull of the small craft as they paused out in slightly deeper waters, waves lapping at the edges of the wood, gentle and sun-warmed in a way that was quickly swept away as he grew up.
It feels like that lull now, rocking him even as he swims in the dark in-between of consciousness, limbs limp, sunlight brewing under his skin, salt on his tongue.
But, as swiftly as it comes, the memory vanishes just out of reach again, swallowed whole by the rushing waves, drowning him beneath their weight.
He can’t breathe.
Panicked, he claws at the water surrounding him, pressing in on all sides, unable to suck in a breath without feeling like he’s choking on it. Tightness across his chest, lungs constricting desperately as he struggles to surface-
“Shh, hush sweetling, you’re safe.”
He knows that voice. But, where-?
Honey sweet citrus, cinnamon that swells under his tongue, petting his sweat-soaked skin as he whimpers, trembling under touch he can’t see, he can’t see-
“Everything will be better in the morning, Hoseok-ah.”
Someone’s combing their fingers through his hair, and while everything hurts, everything feels like he’s been weighed down with stones and dropped feet first into the dark, this feels safe. Familiar, though he’s sure he’s never dreamt of something so lovely before.
It’s a lovely dream, he knows. He knows in his bones that he’ll miss it when he wakes. But for now, murmured words in his ears and someone petting their fingers through his hair, warmth and rumbling purrs-
Rest.