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Chapter Text

“Shit…shit…Popo is going to skin me alive,” Wei Ying mutters as he rounds the hospital hallway at a run, whilst fighting his cufflinks on at the same time.

Why he was even needed in this gala was a mystery, but between his grandmother and sister, he hadn’t been willing to risk the double ire. He grimaces at the idea of having to smile and listen whilst the Shanghai elite blew smoke up his ass. Mianmian, Wen Qing’s wife, was the one they should be shmoozing.

“You’re late!” a stern voice sounds from behind him as he sneaks into the ballroom.

“Popo, I missed you,” Wei Ying starts moving to hug the distinguished woman who was trying very hard to keep her stern face.

“You saw me this morning boy,” his grandmother huffs, but accepts his hug.

Chapter Text

“Shit…shit…Popo is going to skin me alive,” Wei Ying mutters as he rounds the hospital hallway at a run, whilst fighting his cufflinks on at the same time.

Why he was even needed in this gala was a mystery, but between his grandmother and sister, he hadn’t been willing to risk the double ire. He grimaces at the idea of having to smile and listen whilst the Shanghai elite blow smoke up his ass. Mianmian, Wen Qing’s wife, was the one they should be shmoozing.

“You’re late!” a stern voice sounds from behind him as he sneaks into the ballroom.

“Popo, I missed you,” Wei Ying starts moving to hug the distinguished woman, who was trying very hard to keep her stern face.

“You saw me this morning, boy,” his grandmother huffs, but accepts his hug and his weight as he practically collapses in her arms.

“Do you even need me here, really?” he grumbles into her shoulder, her comforting scent releasing all the tension he hadn’t known was cached in his exhausted body.

“Of Course, everyone wants a glimpse of the genius revolutionising medicine. Your pheromone inhibitors and enhancers are a hit. Besides. I want to rub your astounding knowledge and innovation all over their faces.”

Wei Ying lets out a chuckle, finally letting go, stooping low so his grandmother could fuss all over his outfit. He allows himself the time to soak in the warmth and love he had been deprived of for most of his life.

He had thought his world as he knew it had collapsed after the accident. Burying him in its ruins, battered and abandoned. That was until his maternal family resurfaced in his life. He’d never thought to look for his extended family, as he had believed himself to be alone in the whole world. A narrative that had served as the slowly tightening noose around his neck.

He huffs a laugh as he recalls a livid Wen Qing, who had been a resident then, at the hospital he had ended up in after he’d put four alphas in ambulances, whilst as high as a kite, alcohol dominating his bloodstream.

******

“I heard he went into heat at the bar and they tried to jump him, he fought back, but they drugged him, that, the heat made him go feral, he tore them apart.”

“I heard he’s mated, that’s why he fought so hard.”

“Didn’t Dr Wen say the mark had been scarred over, fading, probably why he went off the rails.”

“He doesn’t even look like an omega, look how tall he is, he’s muscular too.”

“So what, you think all omegas do is sit around looking pretty soothing fractured egos and popping babies, we work out too!”

“Yeah, don’t feed the stereotype!”

“Do you think he can hear us? That glare is going to give me nightmares.”

“I don’t think he’s all there right now. Bloodwork came back with almost everything positive; he’s on a lot of shit.”

“Some of it might not be voluntary; they drugged him, remember?”

“Shh, here comes the Scarlet Witch.”

“Why do we keep calling her that, and why are you scared? She’s just a resident like the rest of us,”

“Shh!”

“Excuse me, sir? Can you hear me?”

The strong, polite voice moves Wei Wuxian’s gaze from the gossiping residents to the one in front of him. He almost flinches away from her cold glare. If he had been himself, he would have, and probably tried to diffuse the tension with an ill-timed quip. But he wasn’t, so he stared at her blankly as she went on a rant. He sees her mouth moving, but he can barely register her words.

She had red highlights in her hair. Lots of piercings too, in her ears, nose. Wei Wuxian’s eyes roam all over her face, trying to find more distinct holes. He finds four more; the one-on-one eyebrow surprises him. He thinks they would have been friends.

The resident moves closer to him, and he feels himself tense, his omega, still half-feral, lying in wait as they eye her warily. Alpha. She was an alpha. Rare, but not impossible. He tilts his head as he tries to focus enough to study her afresh. He felt fuzzy. His head was all fuzzy and floaty.

“—it could have killed you!” Some of the angered words filter through his haze.

“Promise?” he whispers, throat hoarse, as his brain latches onto those words.

“What?” The resident counters, shocked, as silence engulfs the lounge he had been sitting in.

“Kill me, you said— it— it was that easy? Can you do it?” he moves to stand, and the bystanders explode into motion. But he’s off balance, whether from the cuffs or whatever those filthy alphas had given him, so he collapses back into the chair.

Wei Wuxian glances at his uncooperative legs, his brain getting clearer the more he focuses. His face snaps to the side before the pain registers. And chaos once more exploded in the room.

The door opens, silencing everyone, and a female doctor walks in. Wei Wuxian’s omega sits up again, with a cautious sniff. Omega, safe, maybe.

“Wen Qing, why are you threatening a law enforcement officer?” the new omega doctor asks with a gentle voice.

“Professor Fang, this officer struck our unstable patient, and is still refusing to uncuff him, despite the establishment that the violence on his part was in self-defence,” red highlights says, Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian commits her name into his fuzzy memory.

He stares at her, fascinated as she visibly holds herself back, while the new doctor argues with the officer. She was funny, strong too. He wants to smile. You smile at people you want to be friends with. Wei Wuxian would love to be her friend. Would have loved to be her friend. Now, all he wanted was not to be.

His hands are pulled up aggressively, and seconds later, they spring free, flopping into his muddy lap. He was covered in mud. It was everywhere. He glances around in rising panic. There was a woman at the corner of the room, with a bucket and mop. Wei Wuxian stands up, stumbling, before he feels arms wrap around him.

He glances back at the seat he had been sitting in for hours. Upholstered. White. Shit. He wills his leg to move towards the woman, ignoring the panicked voices rising in the room. It only takes a handful of steps before he collapses to his knees, a couple of feet before her. He moves to bow, or tries to, but someone is holding him.

The woman stared at him in panic. Was she scared? He didn’t want to harm her.

“He’s trying to release calming pheromones,” Wen Qing says. Ha! He knew her voice now; it was getting less hazy in his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I can clean, “I’ll be good, A-Xian is good,” he whispers, almost to himself. But it carries, if the shocked gasps in the room are anything to go by.

Then he smells lavender, and the new doctor kneels in front of him.

“A-Xian,” she starts softly, and he fights a flinch.

“Not A-Xian?” He shakes his head hard, “Not good.”

“Okay,” she answers softly, “Can we stand? Maybe sit?”

“Dirty, too much work,” Wei Wuxian answers, shaking his head.

“Then we’ll sit here, you’ve got to get off those knees,” he stares at her blankly, and she looks up, calling sharp orders to those surrounding them.

“Can we talk for a while then?” She asks, settling comfortably on the floor, encouraging Wei Ying to sit too.

He glances at her, before eyeing the rest in the room warily, eyes pausing on Wen Qing, before moving on.

“He won’t be back, you aren’t going to be arrested either, you may be called in later, but only as a witness,” Wen Qing says, and he tilts his head at her in confusion.

“It’s okay, we’re here to help, we won’t let them cuff you again.”

“Help?” Wei Wuxian latches onto that word.

“Yes, we want to help you, we are going to help you, would you like that?” The soft doctor asks.

“Help,” Wei Wuxian murmurs with a nod.

“Would you tell us how we can help?” she continues.

“Die,” Wei Wuxian answers, eyeing her intently.

She stares at him in shocked silence before her voice comes out, “You want us to help you die?”

Wei Wuxian smiles, for the first time in so long, as he nods earnestly.

A gasp sounds in the room, followed by a rush of feet, and the sound of the door opening and closing. Meanwhile, the doctor is just watching him.

“Pretty?” he asks, a snippet of him coming out.

She gives a soft laugh, nodding. “Yes, you are very pretty.”

“Kill?” he continues.

“Have you tried to die before?” Wen Qing asks, moving to sit in front of him.

He glances at her, then at the doctor, then at himself. Slowly, he removes his tattered shirt, leaving him in equally shredded shorts. He starts from his face, hands unusually steady. Maybe if they saw how hard he tried, they’d help.

“Truck,” he starts pointing at the scar running across his brows.

“Tree broke,” he whispers, clutching at his neck.

He points at the burn scar on his chest, “Not me, almost worked.”

Then, the scars on his hands, he just lifts his wrists with a wry look.

Wen Qing and the doctor are looking at him in shock, and he pauses.

“Okay?” They nod silently as the door opens and closes again.

His new friends would help, and they were fine, so he continued.

He goes to the scar on his stomach, before blaring alarms fill his head, and he skips over that, moving on to his legs.

“Dogs, very painful, I ran,” he explains, a familiar feeling of equal parts shame and resignation filling him.

It is silent for a while after he finishes mapping out his attempts at dying.

“What about this one?” Wen Qing asks, pointing at the scar on his lower abdomen that he’d skipped. He looks up into her eyes, and something about the soft steel in hers has him answering truthfully.

“Baby, Xiǎo luóbo, I—i— he— He’s alone— go to him—”

“It's okay, you don’t have to continue,” the soft doctor explains, moving to hold his hand before she stops.

“Help?” Wei Wuxian asks again.

“Yes, we’ll help you, but first, we have to get you clean, then you get some rest.”

“Why?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“To help you, we have to use the facilities here,” Wen Qing starts as she stands up, “You don’t want to make them dirty, do you?”

“No,” he whispers, head falling.

They both help him up, and he lets them as his head swims with the motion, then everything goes dark.

He comes to on a soft bed. Eyes still closed, Wei Wuxian tries to reacquaint himself with the world, which he was regretfully still a part of.

“I don’t think he was inherently suicidal; he’s just been trying to get to his child, must have lost him recently, his mate too, we’ll have to get more out of him.”

“That’s going to be hard, since he had nothing on him, all we have to go on is a nickname he flinches from, at least the drugs are wearing off, his liver doesn’t show any damage, so the alcohol might have been a one-off, especially as he seems to still be lactating. He loves his child too much not to be responsible about that.”

“I’m also suspecting a history of abuse. Have you seen the scars on his back? Who would do that to a child? Let alone an omega?”

“His dialect is distinctly southern; he’s a long way from home.”

“We have to act quickly before he resumes his attempts.”

“I’m going to tell ShanYing to cancel her holiday, she’s going to like this one.”

“What holiday? She’s hunting for her grandson. I hope she gets something this time around. It has been years.”

“Oh, he’s waking up, stay with him for now, I don’t want the rest snooping.”

“They are going to cry about nepotism again, Popo.”

“Let them, I don’t trust any of them here, and he has imprinted on you, might make him more open.”

Wei Wuxian follows the hushed voices to the present, and he blinks his eyes open, wincing at the light saturating the room. A second later, the light dims, and a soft voice calls out a greeting.

He turns his head, blinking up at the soft doctor who smells like lavender.

“Good Morning, do you remember me?” Wei Wuxian nods.

“I’m Professor Fang HaoYue, this is Dr Wen AiQing—”

“Just Wen Qing is fine,” she protests with a glare at the professor, who just huffs a laugh and continues.

“She will be taking care of you for a while. If you need anything, let her know.”

“Can I leave?” Wei Wuxian asks, voice raspy. And it jolts the two.

“Maybe,” Professor Fang said after a beat. “You are more lucid now, and that’s a great sign, but you are technically still in heat and also severely wounded, so we’ll be keeping you.

Wei Wuxian nods lightly, then turns his back to the window and stares at the wall.

After a few seconds, he hears the door open and close. In the silence, the buzz in his head grows until it’s a wall of white noise, not letting anything through. Just perfect.

******

“--A-Ying! Wei Ying!”

Popo’s frantic voice pulls him from his memories, and he glances up at her, confused.

When had he sat down?

Where was he?

“You had another episode; you told me you were fine!”

“I was just a little tired.”

The door to the lounge they were in swings open, and Wen Ning walks through looking harried.

“Popo. The car is ready, we should go before they try to find us. Jie is already there.”

Wei Ying winces at that, before he registers the rest, “We are leaving?” he asks, his excitement seeping through.

Popo smacks his head lightly, “Don’t sound so happy about that. There will be other galas, and QingQing is livid.”

“You tattled!” Wei Ying scolds.

“Of course I did, you collapsed in my arms after telling me you were fine, she’s your doctor, she has to know, unless you don’t want her to know, Popo adds eyeing him shrewdly, “Wait, A-Ying, are you pregnant? Again?”

“Ha! You wouldn’t pay me to go through that again. If you want another grandchild, ask those two, or Wen Ning, Xiao Dan is enough from me,” Wei Ying grumbles, standing up, ignoring the familiar flash of pain that came when the talk of children came up.

“Ying-Ge,” Wen Ning mock whines, while subtly helping Wei Ying walk out, Popo following close behind.

“What, you should get your own so you stop stealing my little daughter,” Wei Ying continues, and his family mercifully follows his guide, to ignore his state, though not for long, he muses, eyeing the fuming woman leaning against their town car, tapping her feet furiously.

“Save me, Mianmian. She looks ready to chain me to a bed.” Wei Ying calls to the omega sitting half out of the open car door.

“I’ll help her!” Mianmian, the traitor, answers with a smirk, as Popo cackles, drowning out Wei Ying’s cries.

Chapter Text

Five years before: Beijing Omega Research Institute and Teaching Hospital.

“Incoming feral, page Professor Fang,” Wen Qing calls as she attaches to the door to receive the ambulance.

“Good evening, Dr Wen, I've got an odd one for you. Unidentified adult omega, possibly mated, mid-20s. Shows signs of ferality, was very aggressive when we pulled him off those alphas. Extensive abdominal bruising, possible internal injuries. Multiple lacerations on both arms. Bite marks caked in mud. Bilateral knee bleeding and a pronounced limp. He also appears intoxicated, if the smell is anything to go by, may be under the influence of other substances,” the paramedic, Jia Xuan, rattles, as they wheel the snarling omega into the hospital.

Dr Wen AiQing eyes the man, then the other four who had come in after him, “He did all that?” she asks incredulously.

“Yes, could have done more, it took five of us to pull him off the last one.”

“Good for him,” she declares with a satisfied nod.

“They picked the wrong one today for sure, drugged him too. The Soup seller said he’s been coming around her place often, disappears during the day and appears in the evening reeking of alcohol, but she says he causes no trouble, just eats and stares at nothing. They probably drugged him at some bar and tried to follow him home.”

“Excuse me!” a pretentious voice sounds behind them, and they both turn to see a harried police officer approaching them.

“I need to ask him some questions!”

“You can ask them later, we need to get him immediate care—”

Wen Qing breaks off as the previously still omega bursts into movement, eyes wide, snarling at the police officer, who jumps back in shock.

“Reign in your pheromones, sir, you’re agitating him!” Jia Xuan yells at the officer as they try to calm their patient down.

“Agitating? He attacked me! He attacked them too. I’m here to arrest him!” the policeman argues, releasing more aggressive pheromones.

This sets off the omega even more, and he twists away from them and towards the officer.

“Stop!” Wen Qing yells, trying to Alpha command the patient, before he causes any more damage to himself.

The omega startles to a stop and turns to glare at her in affront. He looks back at the police officer, then back at them again, before shaking the command off, breaking into a run.

“Well, at least we now know that leg isn’t broken,” Wen Qing muses as they run after him.

“Shit! He’s fast, especially for someone with a limp!” Jia Xuan exclaims when they turn down the hall, and the omega is nowhere to be seen.

“There!” Wen Qing points to the mud tracks that lead to the Omega Residents’ lounge.

“Smart man,” Jia Xuan quips, before cursing as the police officer makes it to them.

“Ignore him, we have to deal with the patient first, if he’d let us.” Wen Qing says as she walks into the lounge. While it was an Omegan lounge, alphas were not restricted from entry, but they had to respect the pheromone policy, so Wen Qing clamps down on her scent.

“Hospital policy, you cannot go past here if you need to; get an Omega officer.”

The officer huffs at him, but he stops at the door, pulling his phone out.

Jia Xuan walks in to find Wen Qing having a stand-off with their feral omega, the rest of the residents huddled in a corner observing them with keen interest.

“Wen Ning! Go get Professor Fang, I think her surgery is done,” he calls out, and the intern spares his sister a glance before heading out.

Wen Qing turns agitated eyes at him.

“He’s being a brat; he wouldn’t let anyone close and won’t listen,” she complains, and Jia Xuan swallows a laugh.

“Please sit, sir, we need to get your wounds checked,” Wen Qing calls placatingly, the tone foreign in her voice.

The omega stares down at her. He was tall, and Wen Qing was no shorty, but the omega towered over her by at least an entire foot. Face half covered in his long, messy hair and half in scratches and bruises, torn shirt, showing toned muscle beneath and tattered shorts that could have been white beneath all the mud and grime, he made quite the sight.

Wen Qing turns back to him, to complain again, but then, the omega slowly lowers himself into the seat, eyeing her all the way.

This time, Jia Xuan can’t help his mirth, and Wen Qing turns her ire on him, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Nope,” he pops the p, to irritate her further, “He was my last trip, besides, I feel responsible for him, I promised him, I wasn’t going to leave him alone, not sure he heard, or remembers, but I’ll stick around either way.”

Wen Qing’s eyes narrow further. “He’s not your type,” she declares sourly.

“What? I wouldn’t— Wen AiQing! How dare you—” his complaint patters out, as he sees the teasing glint in her eyes. Mean woman!

“My type just walked out!” he couldn’t resist adding, and he watches in fascination as Wen Qing registers and digests his words.

“Wha—”

The door bangs open, and everyone in the room jumps, bar the omega patient, and an omega officer walks in, the alpha officer from before following closely behind.

“You’re not allowed in here,” Wen Qing starts, but the repulsive alpha jumps in, oozing entitlement.

“We are here to arrest him; the victims are pressing charges.”

The omega officer clamps cuffs on their weirdly subdued patient and turns to her colleague, “Is that it?” she asks in derision.

The dense man nods in satisfaction, and she walks out. The officer then moves closer to the omega, who eyes him steadily, but doesn’t move.

“Why is he being arrested? If anyone should press charges, it should be him; he is the victim here! They drugged him,” Jia Xuan protests.

“All you have is speculation; the man isn’t even speaking. He looks a little gone in the head. Furthermore, you weren’t there; you do not know what happened.”

“Neither were you!” Jia Xuan counters, getting frustrated. What fucked up justice system was he witnessing?

“We could prove all that with a few tests and evaluations. He has multiple defensive wounds,” Wen Qing answers the officer, seething, before she turns to the omega, who was following their conversation curiously.

“Can I come closer?” Wen Qing asks, “I need to draw your blood to run some tests, then we’re going to see if there’s any internal bleeding from your bruises.”

The omega eyes her, his eyes blinking into focus slowly, before he extends his hand to the tray in Wen Qing’s hands.

“You want the tray?” she asks him, puzzled.

“Maybe he wants to do it himself,” Jia Xuan muses.

“You cannot do it, it would be unprofessional, not to mention unhygienic,” Wen Qing refuses, gesturing to his muddy, bloody hands.

The omega glances down at his hands, then around the room. He stands up slowly and turns to the police officer, and extends his cuffed hands at him.

The officer starts to protest, but a fierce glare from Wen Qing has him complying.

This was the most response they had gotten out of the man. The fastest Jia Xuan has seen an omega pull from ferality, ever, even intoxicated, they had to see what he was up to.

The omega shakes his free hands then moves to the large sink at the corner of the room, next to the private shower. They all watch in shocked silence as the man washes his hands thoroughly, methodically, as they had all been trained to. Just like someone scrubbed before heading into a surgery.

Jia Xuan exchanges a silent, heavy glance with Wen Qing as the omega moves back to his previous seat and extends his hand to Wen Qing, in his eyes, a hazy challenge.

Wen Qing hands him the tray this time, distracted, and they watch as the man cleans and disinfects his arm, then proceeds to draw his own blood. Professionally.

A trained medic. There was their first crumb. He was one of them.

What had happened to him? Was he a doctor? He seemed their age, probably a resident, or a nurse, maybe a paramedic? Or in the military? He had the build.

He hands everything back after he’s done, then wordlessly turns back to the officer, extending his now clean hands.

Once he’s properly cuffed, he turns back to them, meeting their stares, head tilted in question, his hair falling with the motion. Wen Qing jolts to attention then, handing the blood and tools to a hovering intern, “Get those back, stat!”

“And you!” she rounds on the gossiping residents, “Leave, if you cannot be respectful.”