Deviant (A m/f omegaverse tale)

Weaving Webs

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Hey again! I want to start by thanking each and everyone one of you for your patience. Ya'll are fantastic. <3 I also would like to state how much I appreciate the growing support. This is my first venture into writing, and the omegaverse is a bit difficult to maneuver, to say the least. 

To everyone who has voted, please don't be afraid to give me any advice or offer encouragement. Ya'll Deviants are the reason why I'm writing. ;)

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A nurse droned in her ear, spouting some nonsense about potential for infection and follow-up treatment. Across from the squeaky medical bed the omega sat on, Jazz's frown filled her vision, pretty, plump lips drawn down into a tense scowl. There were thoughts swirling in the taller woman's gaze, a storm of repressed emotions just roiling beneath the surface. But Deviant didn't, couldn't care. Not when she'd been pumped full of morphine and given all sorts of medicines upon re-entering the compound. 

It had been nothing short of a miracle, landing her jump from the unstable third floor office. She hadn't realized it at the time, but a shard of glass had sliced right through her favorite sweater, stabbed into the flesh beneath, and left her with a gaping hole torn along her forearm. 

The landing had been less than ideal too, no proper purchase to hold her weight. Her right ankle had rolled, muscles pulled, and by the time she'd basically tumbled from the deep, dark, trashy abyss, only adrenaline had allowed her to bolt. And then, like the angel she was, Jazz had screeched up with the truck, and all but dragged Deviant into the cabin before speeding away. It wasn't until they were minutes into their escape that the omega noticed the glaring lack of occupants in the vehicle. She knew without asking, what end had fallen upon the people she'd come to love and trust. If they weren't killed on sight, it wouldn't take long before the torture did them in... 

The resulting ride had been spent in silence. Deviant had taken some abstract napkins from a long forgotten time and applied pressure to her wound, while Jazz did her best to drive through the emptied streets and ensure they didn't have a tail. Hours. It took them hours to feel comfortable enough to return home. And by then, the high energy from the fighting had worn off, and between hurt pride, heartbreak, and various injuries, the pair had made a sore sight stumbling into the med-bay. 

The blonde alpha had needed a few patches, suffered from a bullet that had just barely clipped her waist, and obviously favored one side. But Jazz hadn't allowed more than a cursory poke and prod before she'd flitted away, off to send some encrypted messages and hopefully figure out what the ever loving fuck had happened. Because Deviant had no idea.  

Not that the omega cared for long, however. One bark from Jazz, one single command, and she'd been dosed with enough drugs to ensure she felt dazed for the next few days. Had she the energy, Deviant might've felt scornful towards the action, but high as a kite, there was little that bothered her. She'd drifted off into her own little world while debris and tiny shards of glass had been plucked from her skin, sweater scissored open, blood wiped clean and jagged cut stapled shut. Her ankle had been bandaged up, nice and snug, and the nurse had just been finishing her exam when Jazz walked back in, silently brewing. 

Despite being less than fully aware, Deviant knew the alpha wanted something. She couldn't find it in herself to feel bothered though. Instead, when the nurse handed off a baggie of antibiotics to Jazz and quietly left the clinic room, the omega gifted the older woman with a dreamy smile, and barely contained an airy giggle. If anything, her visible lack of pain garnered Deviant a tight smile from the Commander, and that was reward enough. 

"Little fox," Oh no, there it was, nothing good was about to come, "We need to talk about what happened while you were upstairs." There was a soft firmness in Jazz's voice, perhaps because she thought Deviant might fall apart at any given moment. But the omega was far too intoxicated for that, and instead of issuing an argument, her pastel pink head merely bobbed in agreement.