Chapter Text
Chan knows what he’s doing when he enters Ryujin’s room.
No alpha should enter the room of an omega in heat, not unless they plan to mate or provide a knot. It’s one of those age-old tenets, common sense ideas that no one questioned. He’s not like other alphas.
When Hyunjin first presented, Chan was the only one who helped him through his first heat. There had been no other choice, since Jaebom wouldn’t let any of the other omegas, all female, help him, and didn’t want any betas or alphas being, as he said, “bewitched by him.” Chan had openly cursed him, and made sure to provide for each and every one of Hyunjin’s needs, from cooling him down in baths, feeding him, to being available for any of his physical or emotional needs.
And then when Chaeryeong had presented, Hyunjin had been too caught up in Yeji’s first rut to be of any help, and Chan had to help again. It wasn’t always sexual— Chaeryeong had made it very clear before her presentation what she wanted, and unlike Jaebom, Chan never presumed to know what was best. If his pup didn’t want anything even remotely sensual, then he was sure to give exactly what she asked for. Even when she begged in the height of her heat, and all of Chan’s biology wanted to give what she begged for.
Then they left.
“Hyung?” Seungmin is standing cautiously outside Ryujin’s door, a dutiful healer providing whatever medicines and foods he thinks will help, “I don’t think you should--”
“Who’s been in there?” he peeks in, Ryujin crying on the bed, Lia running a hand through her hair.
“Hyunjin and Felix all last night, Chaeryeong constantly comes and goes,” Seungmin stifles a yawn, and Chan already knows that the young beta probably never slept as well, “Yeji sat on Hyunjin to get him to sleep for a bit, and I think Changbin took Felix out to resupply our medicine cabinet.”
“Already?”
“The, uh, suppressants…” Seungmin takes a deep breath and his eyes flicker into the room, where Ryujin’s taking stuttered breaths, “She couldn’t keep them down. We tried all of them, even the weird ones that Chaeryeong takes.”
Chan takes all the information in and nods, moving past him and into the room. Seungmin’s hand catches his shoulder, but all it takes is one knowing glance of trust, and he backs off.
The first thing Chan notices is that there’s no clear nest. The room’s just as messy as she usually keeps it. An alarm goes off at the back of his head.
And the smell. Not just Ryujin’s distressed pheromones, not just the new spices of her presentation, but a clear smell of sickness.
Chan crouches down by Lia and motions her off with his head. She’s hesitant, but at Chan’s more insistent nudging, she gets up and leaves, making sure to leave the door wide open. On the bed, Ryujin is flushed red, eyes lidded, face scrunched in pain, her hands clawing at her skin. Chan crouches down, his fingers pushing Ryujin’s bangs back.
“Ryujinnie?” her eyes are glazed over and he wonders whether she’s even heard him, “Ryujin-ah--”
She immediately tenses, and another blaring alarm rings in Chan’s ears. She pulls away from him and tries to hide her whimper in a pillow. Chan’s hands are on her arms, turning her so he can see her. It isn’t the alpha biology that’s reacting to the omega in heat, it’s the alpha title that’s bleeding concern to the omega in pain. His pack, his pup.
“What do you need, what’s wrong?”
“N-no, Min— I don’t, I’m fine.”
“... Do you want Minho?”
Her non-answer is enough of a reply, and he gently rubs his hand along her back.
“Minho just got back from a hunt, pup, he’s very tired,” he licks his lips hesitantly, “Can— Can you tell me instead?”
Ryujin braces her jaw and refuses to look Chan in the eye. She is shaking, clearly out of energy and in excruciating pain, but expending her energy to shield it from Chan. He’s talking softly, letting out the most comforting pheromones he can, gentle, patient. She should feel comfortable to at least tell him what’s wrong.
“Ryujin-ah,” he breathes, maneuvering her so that her nose is closer to his neck, “Tell me pup, tell me what’s wrong, let me--”
Ryujin fights him, weakly, with all the energy she doesn’t have and Chan is struck with his mistake: she’s not his pup. Not originally, not truly. Not in the beginning, and when things feel like hell, she’s not going to look for Chan to make things right. Even if he’s her pack alpha, she has no history of relying on him in her moments of distress.
“Ryujinnie?” he whispers, running his fingers down her face in a way that always calms Hyunjin, “Who do you want? Tell me so I can go get them.”
“‘M fine,” her voice is hoarse, and Chan remembers how vehemently she’d hoped to be anything but an omega, her hopes secured when meeting Yeji, the image of a female alpha her idol, “Really, I’m--”
She stops short, and out of instinct grabs Chan’s shirt tightly, tremors running through her body. She has an oversized shirt on her bed that isn’t hers, and for a moment Chan wonders if it’s the one thing she’s pulled to make her nest. Chan bends down and hears her murmuring, feverish, delirious, and Chan’s blood runs cold.
“Die, going to die, let me die,” she rasps, her body heat increasing exponentially, “Burning, dying, Minho-oppa, oppa, please, die, let me die--”
That’s all it takes, Chan sweeps her up in his arms and knows where she needs to go. Seungmin looks as though he wants to protest, Lia right beside him, but he doesn’t have time for their worries. He can’t waste time telling them, he knows there will be harder members to fight off.
Particularly--
“No! Put her back, hyung--” Hyunjin has thrown Yeji off and stands in front of Chan, his own instincts as the oldest omega and thus protector of the younger pack omegas overruling his respect and submission to their pack leader as he frantically tries to take Ryujin from his hands, out of breath and energy, and really in no place to try and fight Chan, “Hyung, she can’t-- hyung, hyung, you have to-- you have to--”
“Hyunjin, listen to me. Hyunjin!” the boy stops long enough to stand still, eyes still on a flushed and whimpering Ryujin, “Ryujin is very sick, and we need to take care of her heat to find out what’s wrong--”
“--N-no, her nest, she didn’t want-- she needs--”
“Hyunjin, she never made a nest,” he says it softly, careful to be as comforting as he can as Felix panics just beyond Chan’s field of vision, “She didn’t have anything of comfort in her room--”
“--the shirt--”
“ Minho’s shirt,” Chan gently pushes Hyunjin off, Yeji pulling him back and running her wrists over his scent glands on his neck, “We’re not going to do anything she doesn’t want without her permission, alright? Don’t worry, Hyunjin-ah, alpha’s going to make sure she’s taken care of, alright?”
Hyunjin calms down for a moment, until he fully understands what Chan’s telling him, and starts to fight off Yeji's hold on him. But Chan’s already dashing up the stairs, throwing the door to Minho’s room open and shutting it firmly behind him. One crisis at a time, and the most harrowing one was in his arms, Ryujin shaking like a leaf in the wind, practically drinking the comforting smells Chan was offering.
In the bed across the room, Minho groans, stretching his arms as he turns.
“Hyung?” he smirks and then yawns, his eyes not completely open, “What’s wro--”
He stops and is wide awake at the sight of Ryujin in Chan’s arms. He doesn’t hesitate-- his sheets are thrown to the side and he holds out his arms, guestering for Chan to pass her to him.
“Something’s wrong, Minho-ah,” he gently passes her over, and although she seems to gain lucidity for a moment, it’s lost again as she wraps her arms around Minho’s neck, sobbing more freely into his shoulder, “I’m going to see about a healer, but we need to take of her heat first… we can’t be sure what’s wrong until--”
“Hyung, she said she didn’t want that,” he’s firm, much firmer than he usually is with Chan.
“Minho,” Chan looks at him stonily, a hint of arrogance at the idea that he would ever even suggest that, but it softens, gentle, empathetic “Just… take care of her. She wasn’t responding to me-- you’ll know what to do.”
He doesn’t need to say it, Minho was practically a pack alpha before he joined Chan’s pack, subgenders and social expectations aside. He raised three pups, two of them through presentation. Chan didn’t need to say anything more, Minho tucked Ryujin under him, whispering kindly into her ear and running his fingers along her face. He doesn’t notice Chan leave, all his attention on helping his pup, soaking a towel to wipe her down, massaging her sore muscles, offering as much comfort as his pheromones will allow, and providing an excess in the words he whispers.
“Good pup, so good Ryujin-ah,” he whispers as wipes the sweat from her face, remembering Felix’s presentation and how he’d preened at even the smallest praise, “Smell so good, Ryujinnie, so—“
She soaks it up for a few moments, before her face contorts and she’s babbling nonsense, turning away and fighting Minho’s gentle ministrations.
“No, die, die… please? Please, please, Oppa it hurts, I’m dying, please—“
So it goes, Minho carefully helping her, only to be met with small victories, quickly swept away in delirium.
“Ryujin—“ he can’t help the edge of annoyance in his voice as the hours bleed on, holding her against his body and massaging out each tremor, “What’s wrong pup, why are you—“
She suddenly bucks away, neck snapped back, eyes rolled back into her head, and only Minho’s hands keep her from convulsing off the bed and onto the floor.
“Ryujin?” He panics, pulling her into the middle of his bed, watching helplessly as she thrashes, burning in heat and pain, Minho’s panic doubling every moment she continues to seize, “C’mon Ryujin, come back to me pup, come back—“
The door creaks open, “Hyung do you need more—“
Minho manages to make out Felix from the corner of his vision.
“Yongbok, get out!” He screams, trying his best not to completely lose it over Ryujin’s seizing body, “Yongbok, now, out! ”
The boy is frozen in place, a weak whimper as they watch Ryujin, completely lost in herself. Minho yells again at Felix, and his distress increases at the prospect of his two omegas dropping to a place he can’t reach them, his scent sour in the air.
Seungmin finally comes in, and quickly pulls Felix out, pushing him towards an equally distressed Hyunjin, both of whom are taken by Changbin to leave the house. Minho doesn’t even notice when Felix leaves, his hands uselessly trying to coax Ryujin’s body back to itself. Seungmin cautiously enters the room, and crouches by the bed, a hand on Ryujin’s forehead which Minho angrily pushes away.
“Hyung,” he whispers, “You need to calm down. Hyung? Hyung, look at me—“
Minho tears his gaze away from Ryujin to mind their beta, the closest they have to a healer, but only furiously, and only for a moment.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when my pup is—
“Ryujin will only be comforted if you calm down, your distress is probably just edging her own panic on,” Seungmin took his hand, “Breathe, hyung, calm down—“
He quickly levels himself, holding Ryujin’s hand in his own and taking deep, calculated breaths. He thinks of Chan, when they first met, the summer breeze through his air, Jeongin and Felix laughing for the first time in forever, and the sweetness of spring. Ryujin’s body gradually calms itself, and soon she’s passed out, sprawled across his bed, breathing leveled.
Seungmin watches her and Minho carefully for a moment, before getting up to change the towels and place fever reducers by the bed.
“Hyung… this is more than just heat, you know?”
“I know.”
“When she’s lucid enough… you should ask her if she’ll let you.”
He doesn’t wait around for an answer, and the door locks, just Minho and Ryujin’s labored breathing, the smell of panic still lining the air. Minho lies down next to her, propping himself up on one arm and carding his fingers through her hair. She’s grown, she’s not the same pup he rescued from the basement of his old pack alpha’s house. Yes, the same button nose, but her face is more defined. She’s grown up, and she’s grown up with him . Minho thinks about the first time he realized this with Felix, or Jeongin. For Jeongin, he’d offered himself up during rut, and Felix… he remembers the long nights of running his hands on Felix’s body, never anything that joined the two of them, but teaching him how to take care of himself, how to quench the need during heat, if only a little bit.
He presses his lips to Ryujin’s temple as she rouses, feeling the heat radiating off of her as he passes her the fever reducers and helps her sit up.
“Ryujin-ah… you— you’re very sick,” he tucks her hair behind her ear, “Do— do you realize that?”
She nods meekly, not looking him in the eye.
“I… you’re going to die, if we don’t take care of you, do you—?“
“—I don’t want to die,” she says it softly, but it’s enough to calm at least one of his worries, “What… I don’t like being in this sort of pain, I don’t like…”
She takes a deep breath and looks at him with resigned eyes, “Do you think it’ll go away if I have a knot?”
He takes a sharp breath, his hand stilled on her head, before saying slowly, “I… don’t know. I really don’t, but… we need to take care of your heat. Ryujin, you had a seizure… I don’t think that’s normal in a heat. It’s probably your body unable to handle whatever’s making you sick and the strain of heat at the same time, and if we’re not careful… But, I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with and haven’t given me permission for.”
Her body is slumped over, although he can’t tell whether it’s from exhaustion or resignation, “Do what you think you need to.”
Minho’s heart cracks a little and he gathers her in his arms, rocking her like he used to. He knows her, he was very adamant and stern when he talked to Hyunjin about her being an omega and what needed to be done, because he knew her wariness of alphas and fear of being an omega ran deeper than most of them could imagine. Chan’s old pack had been bad, Minho had no doubt of this, but at least their alphas had a decent respect for their omegas. Their omegas weren’t treated like tools, used and discarded, raped and murdered, all for the whims and fancies of alphas high on their own power.
Ryujin’s resignation scared Minho more than death itself. She was a fiery spirit, an alpha in every right except biology. Broken did not look right on her.
“Nothing unless it’s necessary,” he reassures, “You have fever reducers, so maybe you won’t even need…” he takes a steadying breath, because if she does , “Should I get someone else? Maybe Yongbok or Jisun—“
“N-no,” she stops him quickly, but then hesitates, “I don’t want… I mean, if you don’t want— I’m sure I can—“
“Sh-sh-sh, aigoo,” he laughs enough for her to calm down, “Whatever you need puppy, Oppa just wants you to feel better, Mm?”
She nods, an arm running across her eyes to brush away her tears and offers him a smile, not as bright as she could usually give him, but close enough that Minho feels safe enough to get off the bed and grab the new towels and cold water that Seungmin left by the door.
He sits on the floor by the bed and offers a quirky smile, “Hey, do you remember that time—?”
Distraction works for a time, Minho telling Ryujin stories she knows, from times when it was just the four of them under the stars, and the world seemed to be simpler. The fever in her eyes seems to fade, and she looks like the wild-eyed girl he’d have to keep from jumping off the waterfalls into the river, following lightning bugs and teasing Jeongin and Felix until they chased her past Minho’s field of vision. It wasn’t until she started shaking, arms wrapped around herself and hidden under the sheets, that Minho remembers the problem at hand.
“Feeling hot?” He presses his hand to her neck, her swollen scent glands burning under his touch.
She says nothing, but then nods, so Minho starts cooling her down with the damp towels, humming a melody Chan often sings to himself as her eyes cloud with delirium.
“It hurts, Oppa—“ she’s looking past his head, “Everything hurts…”
“Sh, sh,” he hesitates for a moment, before pulling the edge of her shirt up, stopping when she whines in protest and tries to tug her shirt back down, “You’re overheating, Ryujinnie, you need to take this off to cool down, alright?”
She shifts in understanding and lets him take it off. He carefully massages her abdomen, feeling the muscles protest and quiver. He doesn’t remember Felix’s heat being so sensitive— a neediness and flare in body temperature every couple of hours, yes, but never the body putting up such a blatant rebellion against itself. There are knots upon knots in her muscles, his fingers threading and kneading carefully, through each one.
“You’re alright, Ryujin-ah, you’ll be alright…”
He says it but the next hour quickly descends into madness, Ryujin’s body working against Minho. When she starts mumbling nonsense again, Minho mentally steadies himself, pulling the sheets around them and positioning himself above her.
“Ryujin. Hey, hey hey, look at me,” she whines but manages to meet his eyes, “I want you to take your hand and touch yourself, and—“ he shushes as she protests, “Sh-Sh listen, if you can take care of yourself maybe you won’t need my knot, alright? Now come, put your hand here, your slick should make it easier, come…”
He guides her like he once did for Felix, and talks as soothingly as he can. Down between her legs, into the heat of her slick. She closes her eyes, and her fingers fulfill her needs, staving off the craving of heat for a time. Rubbing, pushing in and out, one finger becomes two. When her hand becomes lethargic, she cries louder as she’s unable to attain even a little bit of pleasure, Minho’s fingers replace hers and she holds onto him more desperately than he ever thought she would.
When she puts her arm over her face, clearly embarrassed, he laughs and pulls her arm away.
“Nothing embarrassing in needing help, pup,” he reassures sweetly, “Nothing embarrassing at all.”
His fingers push, feel around for the nerves that would override her need and pain with pleasure, and manages to brush against it, if only lightly. Ryujin’s eyes roll into her head and her muscles tense in euphoria, waves of pain and pleasure overlapping. He curses his fingers for being so small, because as little relief as it gives her momentarily, it doesn’t give her enough to bring her back to lucidity. As diligently as he tries to help her, gentle and insistent, her cries become more painful, louder, and Minho finds himself crying as he presses his face next to hers.
“I’m sorry,” he kisses her cheek, reaching down to quickly prep himself, “I’m so, so sorry Ryujin-ah.”
She nuzzles her nose into his hair, and when he slips himself into her, she only lets out a small pained cry, Minho giving her plenty of time to adjust herself, even though she really doesn’t need it, her slick and body welcoming him easily. But it’s not her body he’s waiting for, but her mind, waiting for her to nod, relaxing slightly, before setting a steady pace. He keeps his body close to her, hoping she’s able to disconnect her and push past the mental barriers she’d put up against having sex. To his surprise and delight, he sees her face morph from one of pain and discomfort, to one of pleasure, the heat in her face replaced from fever to euphoria, and simultaneously assuaging all of Minho’s fears.
Perhaps she wasn’t terribly sick. Perhaps it was just a very hard heat.
“Oppa…” she moans wrapping her hands around him and nearly pressing her lips to his, “Nng, it feels—“
“Sh…” he nearly lets her kiss him, but he has a mating mark on his shoulder, and this is a favor, an alpha caring for his pup, not the act of a lover, “I’ve got you, pup, hng… so good, so good Ryujinnie…”
Her pheromones smell sweet, and Minho’s scent of pleasure mingles with it in the air. There’s a bit of apprehension, and Minho wonders whether it’s a sin to enjoy this as much as he does, but he manages to convince himself that if he can’t afford to sour his thoughts and ruin this for Ryujin. Ryujin. For his pup, as long as her pain has dissipated, long forgotten, it’s all worth more than Minho’s guilt.
“Ryu— ah, baby, pup I’m going to—“
That’s all the warning she gets, and it’s all she needs as his knot pushes into her and then pushes her over the edge, Minho stilling and holding her tightly as her back arches off the bed. Her presses his forehead to her shoulder, peppered kisses across her skin as he waits for her to come down from her high, her nails drawing lines across his back.
“Such a good pup,” he whispers as her body relaxes, adjusting as he prepares for the next half hour they’ll be stuck together, “So good, Ryujinnie, so good…”
She takes panting breaths as she relaxes beneath him, eyes glazed and a different sort of heat radiating off her. Minho’s settled in himself— her heat is taken care of, and she’ll be fine, everything will be fine .
He’s relaxing himself completely, practically passing out in exhaustion, the weight of the hunt and helping Ryujin finally catching up when—
“Ah!” Ryujin throws her head back, “Nng, Oppa please, die, I’m dying, die, fire, kill me, please— “
And then she seizes again, her eyes rolled back in her head, and as her body pulls away from him painfully, Minho can only put an arm down on her waist to hold her lower half as still as he can, pushing past his own pain and distress to try and give off comforting scents to bring Ryujin back to him as quickly as possible.
“C’mon, come back to me Ryujinnie,” his memories fly away from his mind, nothing comforting for himself or her and he starts weeping as she continues to convulse, “ Fuck, no, please no—“
When Ryujin lets out a weak scream, his own cry comes forth from the pit of his chest and a free flow of cold tears fall from his face to her body. He calls out in his distress for his mate, someone, anyone to quench their pain, and he wonders if she’s already condemned to death.
“Please, fuck, please,” he doesn’t know if he’s praying, but he’s begging with everything in him. He’s mourning, distressed like never before, swallowed while in a grief that’s devouring him alive, numbing his soul into an icy cold, unfeeling to anything but the piercing hurt of his pain.
Someone crouches by him, lips to his cheek, hands through his hair, but Ryujin is still shaking below him, so he doesn’t dare open his eyes or do anything but keep reverently begging for her life to come back to her body. Something washes over him, a comforting scent of home that breaks his mind and melts it into himself.
“Minho-ah,” a voice, concerned and strong, makes him open his eyes, “Minho, please.”
When he opens his eyes he only sees Chan, Chan, Chan , eyes like the depths of the universe, love that pulls him from his mind and back to the land of the living.
“Chan—“ he sobs, his head dropping as his sorrow comes back to him like a crashing wave on the shoreline, “Chan, I—“
“Sh~ I’ve got you,” Chan’s supporting him with one arm, and presses his wrist to Minho’s neck to immediately calm him again, a slight tremor in his voice as he whispers, “Knot didn’t work?”
Minho shakes his head weakly, not bearing to look down at Ryujin again. Chan lets out a sigh.
“There’s a healer, but she can’t come here,” he presses his wrists to Ryujin’s neck, and her convulsing calms just a bit, “We… we’re going to have to travel, all of us.”
Minho grimaces, but he knows it has to be done. He relaxes to the fingers through his bangs, just the steady in and out of their breaths, a calming ocean of pheromones pulsing with each inhale. Ryujin’s convulsing reduces into shivering, Minho finally looking at her as she hesitantly opens her eyes, and then closes them, hands on her face, tears of pure exhaustion and frustration overflowing. Helplessness. It never sat well on Ryujin’s shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, he kisses her fingers, and overshadows her form with his body.
“You’re alright,” he rasps, because Chan is encouraging him to say so with his eyes, even if he doesn’t believe it with Ryujin falling apart under him, dissolving into the bed, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
With Chan’s help, he maneuvers into a sitting position, Ryujin finally calmed, draped over his front. Chan pulls the sheets up over her shoulders, her breathing level under his hands. Minho might fall asleep to the calmed rhythm of her breathing, the padding of Chan’s feet around their room as he cleans things up, the quiet voices of Lia and Seungmin as they come to help.
“Minho?” he’s shaken awake, Ryujin’s startling in his hold, holding herself tightly to Minho as she realizes there are others in the room and she’s not as clothed as she’s like to be, “Minho-ah we need to get ready, come, wake up.”
He’s half-awake, and Chan’s worry doesn’t quite reach him. His knot has finally deflated, but the two are pulling towards each other in exhaustion, a protective shield for each other. Too tired to care about cleaning up, and too exhausted to even think about the fact that they’ll have to leave. Chan stands back as the two betas take over, pulling them from each other. Minho rouses himself, and watches as they take Ryujin from him to the shower, tense, his wolf practically whining as she’s unable to hold herself up.
“She’ll be alright,” Seungmin comes back to help Minho, who pushes him off and tries to shower on his own, even though he’s still very much shaken, worry bubbling through his veins.
“Of course she will, she’s a strong pup,” he murmurs, and Seungmin sees right through it, the convincing he’s doing more for himself than anyone else.