Chapter Text
San loves his job, he does! But on days where there is nothing happening, he goes a bit stir crazy. There are no campaigns to plan with the peace treaties still holding strong, there also aren’t any major events happening in the city that he could help out with. He ends up pacing his room, wondering what he could do to relieve his boredom.
A few weeks ago, he would just go to the barracks and work out with the other soldiers, maybe even spar with the newer recruits, but he has been banned from that by Wooyoung for the next month after he got startled and nearly broke his foot by dropping a weight on it. He wasn’t out of commission for long, the injury a very deep bruise that hurt, but didn’t cause permanent damage. He knows he can work out fine, he has been wandering the palace enough to know that, but he has too much respect for his mate to go against his wishes, he could wait out a month. Hopefully. He can just go to the city and enjoy the sights, he thinks it’s a market day and no one really recognizes him outside of uniform anyway.
San is known as Halazia’s “Knight of the People.” Monikers weren’t all that common in the Halazian military, but the Clé conflict made them more common for the remarkable soldiers that fought. San earned his as a young private in the conflict around nine years ago. His battalion was often sent in advance and would often spend their free time helping the citizens of Clé they were helping to liberate. They would build fences, haul harvests, and even entertain children on their marches. San truly earned his moniker after the conflicts since he would be seen repairing cartwheels, returning stolen inventory, and giving coin and hope to the youth out on the streets.
San wasn’t egotistical enough to feel that he deserves his title even though he loves it, but he is more proud of the fact that the citizenry gave him his title rather than the royal family. The King appoints the titles and monikers to those who were exceptional soldiers, such as the “General with no fear,” who was the king’s most trusted friend who fought alongside him against Lord Donghyun who began to terrorize the Halazian outskirts and eventually tried to take over parts of the smaller kingdom. San’s pride as a soldier is from the citizenry trusting him enough to bestow him with his moniker, and continue to see him as one of them rather than his current position in life. He is also thankful to the King for promoting him to officer, and the loud uniform that came with it allowing him almost complete anonymity while outside of it.
He isn’t the clingiest member of the pack, that title goes straight to his mate, but he doesn’t like going places alone. He has always been a people person with a soft heart that has only hardened for those who threaten his packmates. He was thinking who he could take with him and was coming up short with options. Jongho, Hongjoong, and Yunho would be in a meeting at this time of day, his mate hated going to the market with little warning, Mingi wouldn’t be returning from his trip until the following evening, which left him with one option.
San begins the walk up to the library to see if Yeosang would join him on his trip. He knows Yeosang has been cooped up in his library for the past week reorganizing the shelving with the new tomes on the culture and history of the newly formed Levanter that finally arrived.
San grew up in a minor fief outside of the boundaries of Halazia and he knows what an abuse of power looked like. The lord that ruled over his village when he was a child frequently took more than was needed of everything. Crops, taxes, even people when the fancy struck him. San would have never joined this pack if they weren’t good people, but the fact that they actively tried to use their power for good for the greater kingdom, especially for people outside of their pack, was the only reason he joined the pack. They are all inherently good people and are as close to truly altruistic that he thinks people can be.
San eventually makes it to the library and enters the brightly lit room, feeling welcomed by the smell of old books and residual dust from the shuffling of tomes. San was always amazed by the beauty of the vaulted ceilings and the ornate staircases that leads to the books lining the entire second floor. He never understood Yeosang’s system for the library, the towering and overflowing shelves seeming daunting in the large space, but Yeosang knows where every book is with startling accuracy. San is grateful to The Three though, because for as organized as Yeosang was in the library, his room is a complete disaster. The gods were fortunate enough to balance out Yeosang like that. He truly is the only one who can find anything in the natural disaster that constitutes Yeosang’s room.
San starts walking along the shelves looking for Yeosang. He knows the upper floor that faces north tends to have things relating to their continent, but with the more rampant space restraints he could have moved to the lower floor of the library. San climbs the staircase anyway and circles back to the north side of the upper floor, noticing the usually two full shelves in the back are sitting empty, stacks of books in front of the shelf, but no Yeosang. San bends down to look at one of the books, seeing them as geography atlases, Yeosang must be moving the books to the main floor. San thinks he remembers where the atlases used to be, so he descended the stairs and went to the far back corner, knowing his guess was right when he started to see stacks of books piles along the floor the closer he gets to his destination. He has to walk through three different aisles in the back corner but eventually found Yeosang placing the tomes on the history and culture of Halazia on the shelves, humming a children’s song to himself in the process. San didn’t know how Yeosang could be so effortlessly cute, even more so when he tried to deny his cuteness. San looks near his feet to see if there would be anything he could help with near him and a few stacks down he saw the new tomes on Levanter. San happily picks up the heavy stack of tomes and wonders how to get Yeosang’s attention.
Yeosang is an intelligent man, but was often ‘away with the fairies’ as his mother used to say. He lives mostly in his own world, not noticing what is around him. He knows his pack will always be there to watch his back, and they all wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. San finally got his attention after the last Halazia book was placed on the shelf, and his arms were tired from holding those books for that long. Yeosang’s eyes got stars in them when he noticed they were the Levanter books, he came over and took the stack straight out of San’s arms as if they weighed nothing, a thanks leaving his mouth in the process. In the years the two have worked together, and even been a part of the pack together, San would always feel a sense of disconnect between Yeosang’s face and his hidden strength as well.
Yeosang has a face like a marble statue of old, pretty enough to be an omega, but his arm strength along with his indomitable will was strictly alpha, and San would often forget that, most of the pack forgot as well. He also never fights back, no matter what his dongsaeng’s put him through, but his razor-sharp tongue and ability to take any of them to the floor and off the ground quickly reminded them when they tried to get smart with them.
San waits until Yeosang put the last of the Levanter books on their dedicated shelf before he broached the topic of an outing to Yeosang. It may have taken some pleading and pouting that he will later deny, but a lack of shame does go far since Yeosang gave into to his wishes in the end. The two both got dressed in less ornate clothing before leaving.
“San-ah, please remind me why we’re going to the town again?”
“Because I don’t want to be cooped up anymore! There’s adventure happening out there and I’m not working, and…” Yeosang looks at San very unimpressed. “Its market day and it’s my favorite day to work normally, but I have been taken off of rotation and want to go anyway. Okay?”
“You know it’s dangerous with the turmoil over in Strick. There might be people looking to get their frustrations out on anybody.”
“We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. You with your Voice, and me with my strength.” San flexes his muscles, being obviously showy as he does so, causing a laugh to come to Yeosang.
“Well…I do have to get something for Mingi’s birthday.”
“Yes!” San cheers, happy Yeosang has agreed to it.
The two leave guard less, San’s status as a general is enough justification for the soldiers that are normally assigned to the pack to let them be. The guards just inform San’s direct subordinates in case either of the two are needed while they are on their outing. Every Saturday was market day for the city. The city’s outlying homes and the brightly colored produce stalls combined with the sparkle of trinkets and scents of food made the day all the more enjoyable. San found a vendor who was selling spiced chicken skewers and purchased three of them, one for him and two for Yeosang, a small thanks for joining him today. The two wander around, enjoying the fresh air and sounds of chatter. They stop at a clothier who sells ornately woven jacquards, brightly dyed cottons and silk so thin it feels like a cloud. Yeosang took note of the seller’s name to give to Hongjoong for later.
The two continue walking around the market, San sparked a conversation with a florist about the flower types and how they had different meanings in contexts and combinations, and Yeosang with a jeweler who made chains and twists so delicate one could forget about their presence on their body. It was at this stall when trouble started.
Yeosang only left his library to get a gift for Mingi, and he was in deep discussion with the jeweler talking designs and price with him when they suddenly heard a “Stop!” shouted from the street behind them. San turns to see a teenager, knife in hand, hovering around the coin purse attached to San’s belt. The teen looks up to San’s face, taking in his large muscles and intimidating build. The teen drops the knife and runs deep into the market crowd, getting lost in seconds. San starts to take off after the wannabe thief, but decides to stay with Yeosang who looks impressed and horrified at the audacity of the teenager. San looks back in the direction of the voice, and only sees the swish of light blue and a single white bloom abandoned in the mouth of the alley across from them.
The two men turn back to the jeweler to see his face pale, nerves leaking into his scent, the sweat beading on his forehead, before he bows deeply.
“I am so sorry my lords, I should have been paying more attention to protect you from the pickpockets that tend to come out today.” The jeweler bows to the two, “What can I do to apologize for my lack of vigilance?”
“There is no need to worry, we are more than capable of looking for pickpockets as well. We failed ourselves at that task, plus, someone alerted us to the thievery happening.” Yeosang responded on their behalf.
The jeweler regains some color to his face and offers them a ten percent discount on whatever they bought anyway. Yeosang accepts the offer graciously and finished working out the details with the jeweler. The two agreed on a silver three strand braid that holds Mingi’s birthstone in the center, a small bright peridot gem. San couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the sketch Yeosang was given, his attention continuously returning to the alley, wondering who alerted them to the pickpocket.
The jeweler was given half of the total payment to start the commissioned work and the two men made to leave but San took a quick pause before they left.
“Sir, might I ask who that person who alerted us?”
The jeweler laughs in a hearty manner, happy that the two wealthy lords want to continue business with him.
“I could see this young lord looking back in his direction.”
San got red at that statement, hoping his actions weren’t taken in the wrong way.
“I merely wish to offer thanks to the person who assisted us.”
The jeweler lightly slaps San on the shoulder in a friendly manner, fully over any fear of retribution from the two royals.
“It’s okay son. I have seen quite a few alphas think with their nose rather than their brain. I don’t know his name, but the young man who helped you comes to the market every two weeks selling wildflowers and barks that work as simple remedies for ailments. He gave me some willow bark when I hit my hand with my hammer, and the pain lessened enough that I was able to finish my project for a very important client.”
San takes the information passively, his mind drifting back to the small wildflower in the alley. He asks for a time on the project’s completion.
“Usually, a project like this would take three weeks with the other ones ahead of yours, but for such nice men I think I can finish in two.” He ends his sentence with a wink in San’s direction.
San continued to get flustered but knew it useless to argue with the man’s interpretation of events. The two return to the palace before nightfall, planning to return to the square for two new reasons the next time.
“The famous Knight of the People was almost pickpocketed by an unpresented kid. How far we have fallen.”
“Ha ha. Remind me to leave you to your books and ask Wooyoung to come with next time.” Yeosang simply raises a brow, the meaning clear. “That’s a good point. I’ll ask Jongho. He won’t make fun of me.”
Yeosang hums absently and turns his head back to the road before them. San tries to focus on returning but his head keeps returning to the flower left in the alley.
“With all of those books, do you know what flower was left in the alley?”
“San. I didn’t really look back at the alley. What did it look like?”
“It looked like a thicker spider lily, but the petals were all separate. The petals were also more spread out amongst the bloom. But the leaves were so far away from the bloom, so I know it wasn’t a spider lily.”
“It might have been a honeysuckle. If the man truly does sell herbs and flowers, it is incredibly likely that that is one of them.”
San puts that information alongside the rest related to the man and continues the walk back in companionable silence.
Upon their arrival to the palace, San returns to his shared bedroom with Wooyoung, throwing his torso into Wooyoung’s lap on his way, and tells him all about the happenings from the day, including the elusive man who assisted them. Wooyoung leans down into San’s face, his feathery hair isolating them from the rest of the world. San would always be in awe of his mate’s beauty; from his soft hair to his bright smile that traveled faster than any sickness, and the mole under his eye that added so much character to his beautiful face.
“You had best not be replacing me, Sannie! I don’t care how pretty this mysterious man may be, I will always be your favorite, and I will always be here to remind you of it.”
San rolled his eyes, “My favorite annoyance perhaps. Who knows? The man could be the most gorgeous alpha in existence. You might have some competition soon, Wooyoung.” He raised his eyebrow in challenge to his mate.
Wooyoung scoffs before straightening up, creating distance between the two again but his eyes gained a certain sharpness and shadow to them. Wooyoung brushes his hair back, revealing the long column of his neck, and his wide shirt dropped off of his lowered shoulder, exposing San’s pack mark where his arm met his shoulder.
“I guess I’ll go find Hongjoong to entertain me then. He knows he got lucky with me.”
As Wooyoung started to stand, he saw a dark curtain fall over San’s eyes, knowing his trap was sprung. San wasn’t usually the jealous type, but Wooyoung knows how to play on San’s possessive tendencies and insecurities to get what he wants from the man. He didn’t make it more than four steps from the bed before San had him flat on his back under him. Wooyoung let out a squeal of enjoyment when San laid a possessive kiss over his scent gland and San rolled his eyes at the obvious, but effective, ploy. The two melt into each other knowing the rest of the night would be enjoyable for the two.
~..~..~..~..~
Two weeks pass, and Yeosang and San make to return to the town square and the jeweler’s. They are able to obtain the ring from the jeweler, and it is even more beautiful than the sketch. The jeweler added a base of unpolished steel that the bright silver wove around, and the peridot was nestled beautifully in a woven oval in the center of the ring. Yeosang paid the rest of the price and promised the jeweler to bring his name up to the king, knowing that he would be returning to his stall, if not his shop, for future projects. Yeosang gave the ring to San to place on his thumb, the circumference not quite right to sit on any of Yeosang’s fingers, and set off on their true task of the day.
San knows the flow of the city well from his days patrolling it so they are able to loop the square twice in the time it would take a person to do that once. As they walk, Yeosang catches wisps of light blue in the corner of his eye; turning around a stall, darting through a crowd, Yeosang even thinks he sees the flash of a smile before the blue wisps away again. The sky blue fabric movis as fast and effortless as the wind. The two men feel as if they are chasing a ghost.
Two hours pass and the two are ready to give up and try again in two more weeks, but San spots the elusive shade of blue from the mouth of an alley. The two men creep into the alley, trying not to scare the man away but see an image that paints his character clearly. The man in blue is crouched in front of a small, filthy child; likely one who lives on the streets.
“What’s your name?” The man asks, his soft voice gentle as he speaks to the child.
“Yujun.” The boy responds, his tiny voice muffled by sniffles.
“How old are you, Yujin?” The boy hold up six fingers in response.
“You’re six?” The man’s voice takes on an effected energetic tone. “That’s such a big age. Do you take good care of your dongsaengs?”
The boy puts on a brave face and nods his head in agreement.
“Well, since I runed your mark for the day and you have dongsaengs to help.” The man reaches into his basket and pulls out three silver and six copper pieces, handing them out to the boy. “You might need this.”
The man grabs the boy’s hand, placing the coins in his hand for him. The boy’s eyes light up and the man ruffles the boy’s hair, causing it to stick in all directions. The man sends him on his way, a wistful smile present on his face while the boy toddles off to his gaggle of children.
The two men look at the scene fondly, any suspicions of ulterior motives eradicated from their brains. No one would willingly give money to street children then send them away, especially freshly earned money. The man is dressed in well-made clothes clearly worn and well loved. The fabric of the shirt is soft from use and the color faded from the sun, his pants are of a similar quality with well hidden patches along the knees and shins. Yeosang approaches the man once he is alone, his figure not painting him as a threat with how tall and thin the other is. There is a little definition to his muscles, likely from the work of harvesting his herbs and plants, but the gentle clothing softens his image even further. As he gets closer the man brushes off his pants and readjusts the fall of them on his long legs. The blue clothed man has thick shoulder-length black hair, and bangs that frame his face, showing the shape and sharpness of his nose well, even in the dim lighting of the alley. Yeosang stays a good distance away and close to the wall, allowing a path of escape if the man needs it.
“Two weeks ago, you alerted us to an attempted pickpocketing, me and my packmate would like to thank you for your kindness.” Yeosang gives a gentle smile, hoping to display the honesty of the statement.
The man looks at Yeosang, then San standing behind him, a sliver of recognition enters the man’s eyes, and he returns the smile in kind.
“Thank you, my lords, but your generosity is misplaced. My alert was for the safety of the child. I have seen many with the build of your friend nearly kill children who act unwisely, my lord.” He dropped into a gentle bow, not reverent, but acknowledging their class differences.
“The reasoning doesn’t change the effect. Please accept my thanks.” Yeosang bowed in return, maintaining the same formality the man was giving him.
The two accept each other’s gratitude and thanks, but in the joy of finding their mystery man, Yeosang lets his scent slip out. The dying fire and cedar clear in the air with his joy in the moment. Before they could offer to escort the man to his next destination, he is already pushing past them, fleeing from the alley as fast as possible, his feet seemingly never hitting the ground. The two chased after him, wanting to figure out what was going on and help him, but they lost him shortly after making it out of the crowed entrance to the alley. With how hard it was to find him normally, they knew it would likely be impossible to find him when he wanted to hide in the city.
Yeosang and San are glad that the gratitude was passed to the correct person but upset at the ending of the conversation. The two return to the palace, resigning themselves to wait another two weeks to try and find the man again. The curiosity the two share over him only increased after their short interaction together. Why is he so selfless, and who is he exactly?
Yeosang returns to his room after getting the ring back from San, placing it in a box made for smaller items, ready to wrap it in Mingi’s birthday fabric. San returns to his and Wooyoung’s room to wallow in misery, his body slumping on the floor in front of Wooyoung. The shorter man leans down to pet his hair, easily reading his partner’s body language, knowing the hunt for the man went wrong somewhere.
San begins to articulate the meeting with the mystery man, how they heard him in the alley to Yeosang’s scent scaring him off. Wooyoung is understanding about San’s need to express his overwhelming gratitude to the man and his selfish desire to get to know the selfless human. Wooyoung starts pushing for more details from San with an intense passion after hearing about how he treated the child, a passion so intense that San was surprised with it coming from Wooyoung.
“Why do you want to know so much about this man?”
“I just want to make sure he doesn’t harm any of the kids. Most people don’t give away money for nothing.”
Wooyoung was objectively correct, he is one of the best packmates to speak on the safety of the street youth, but San only has a gut feeling about the mystery man. He doesn’t think the man has any ulterior motives but has no proof of it.
Normally, Wooyoung would believe him and he wants to believe him, but San often wants to see the best in people at the same time. Both of the men know they are blinded by personal beliefs and biases, but some concerns are too close to the heart to overlook.
“Wooyoung,” San says gently, sliding over to the man next to him, lightly draping his arm over his shoulders. “You can be honest with me, you know.”
Wooyoung’s shoulders slump, his hair falling limply into his face as he does. He looks into San’s face, the weariness of his childhood present as he opens up to his partner.
“There was someone who did similar things like the man you described, he saved me and the other kids from starving quite a few times even though he couldn’t have been much older than us. But this was years ago, who knows what he is doing now. He could be dead from giving away all of his money, or even have been swept up by a wealthy alpha. He was stunning even as an underfed boy.”
The answer satisfies San, he knows Wooyoung’s childhood was complicated and difficult and guides the two of them to their shared bed. The two fall into a fitful sleep, but San wakes up barely hours after falling asleep feeling deeply unsettled. He attributes it to his instincts acting odd with the need to ensure the safety of the man from earlier, the instinct of protection built into his bones. With the speed he ran off with, it was clear that something spooked him intensely. He decided to go on a walk to clear his head from the day’s events and hopefully settle his instincts in the process. He gently peels Wooyoung’s octopus limbs off of him and rolls off of the bed, not wanting to wake Wooyoung up or make him uncomfortable as he leaves into the night.
He puts on some warm layers, the crescent moon making everything seem just a bit colder this night. The crescent a warning that The Lady will pause her protection and watching soon. San contemplates the night and his unsettled instincts and decides to put his chain mail on with his cloak, a layer of protection for him and anyone who may need it tonight in lieu of The Lady and her light.
San enjoys the cool night air while wandering the main streets of the city center. He remembers walking the dark city streets as a private years ago, and is even more surprised with how little has changed over the years. He allows his mind to wander as he walked; would Mingi like the gift, this cobblestone is coming loose, he should visit that tailor with Wooyoung because the colors would look great on him. San lost track of where he was and how long he was walking when he smells rotting magnolias and sour honeysuckle. San is grateful for his strong nose because an omega is in distress downwind.
San speeds up to a brisk walk, following where the scent was stronger until he could hear hushed shouting and muffled voices. The shuffling of feet gets louder as he gets closer, the voices becoming more distinct, one cut off abruptly. San wants to rush in to help the omega in distress but maintains his slower speed to not alert the perpetrator. The scent of blood fills the air and is quickly followed by the scent of angry alpha; the scent of burning hide covering up the rotting magnolia.
“You little bitch!”
A sharp snap and cry of pain fills the air before it is quickly muffled. The scent of alpha muddles from anger into arousal, burning San’s sharp nose. It takes everything in him to not turn tail and retch into a dark corner. He can finally make out the details of the alpha’s scent. Leather and tobacco smoke, two scents absolutely rotten to San’s nose.
He whips around the corner, his instincts acting faster than his brain and sees two figures, their shiloutes black in the dark of the alley, backlit by the crescent moon overhead. The taller of the two has their hand tightly around the bottom of the other’s face.
“Come now, pretty. That wasn’t very nice.” The voice lets out a mean chuckle. “There’s that look I’ve seen before. Half-crazed, half-blank. What’s it gonna be today then? The sweet and docile healer, or the feral sl-”
The voice is stopped by a grunt, the shorter figure’s head whipping around and their knee knocking into the taller’s personal jewels to the scent of blood blooming. San walks closer to the pair to make out more details, wanting to subdue the perpetrator but not harm the victim in the process.
An earth rumbling growl echoes through the alley, even stopping the mated San in his tracks. The alpha might have been angry before, but now they are outright pissed. The hand shifts to the omega’s throat, lifting them up into the air, the other twitching at their side. The omega starts to scrabble at the alpha’s hand, the other raking down the alpha’s face, the scent of blood coating the other scents in the alley.
“You don’t know the deal you’re squandering, Omega. I can offer you a life of luxury and keep your little secret. All you have to do is bend over when I tell you too.” The omega lets out a loud whimper at the end of the alpha’s sentence, struggling further to get away from the figure in front of them.
“You smell so sweet darling, why can’t you act that way too? I’ve seen you around the street pups. Do you want your own? I can give you as many as you want.”
The alpha’s free hand starts to move down on the omega’s body, stopping at the top of their legs. Their hand reaches for the front of the omega’s middle, likely finding the ties with the sudden bagginess of the omega’s pants.
The omega starts to kick and flail violently, probably stronger than the alpha thought possible with how they are redoubling their force against the shorter figure, using both hands to hold them aloft. San starts to move forward, but the omega is faster, having caught the alpha in the groin again. Hard. The alpha’s grip on the omegas body loosens enough for them to be dropped to the ground.
“Fuck you, you sack of-” The alpha doesn’t let them finish that sentence, grabbing the omega by the shoulders and slamming them back into the wall of the alley. The resounding thud is loud and hollow, the omega immediately slumping in the alpha’s grasp.
San rushes forward into the alley, a viscous snarl leaving his chest in warning. The alpha freezes, not anticipating having any witnesses leaving an opening for San to grab half of the omega from them.
“Leave.” San allows his scent to unleash in full force. The strong scent of an ancient forest overpowering the alpha’s leather and tobacco. He is granted a sneer in return.
“And why should I? You think some jackass like you can handle this slut?” The alpha tries to pull the omega close to him. “This one likes to play hard to get. Harder than most can handle, but I like the challenge.” San is easily able to match the alpha on strength.
“Let. Them. Go. Because if you don’t, I’ll have you arrested.”
“Yeah, pal. You and what officer.” The alpha looks around performatively. “I don’t see any around, and who would believe you over me. I can buy any street patroller twice over easily.”
The alpha tries to initiate a tug of war with the omega’s body again.
“I don’t need any soldiers.” San shifts his shoulders so the small pieces of armour he has on catch the scant moonlight. “I’ll have you arrested under the orders of General Choi San, member of the royal pack and head of the Halazian royal army.”
The arousal in the alpha’s scent leaves the air, suddenly replaced by light fear, allowing San to pull the omega close to his body. San pulls off his cloak to wrap around the omega, trying to provide as many layers against the cold and shock as possible for them. The silver of his armor glinting off of the little light the moon was providing. The alpha tries to turn tail but falls flat on their face before recovering and making off into the night. San takes note of the alpha’s scent, knowing he could arrest him based on that after he helps the omega.
San turns to leave the alley, entering the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps lighting the lanes. He looked down at the omega and noticed it was the same man in blue from earlier. He was surprised with the man’s lack of scent earlier, but his omega status made it clear why he ran when he smelt Yeosang earlier.
San rushes off to the palace, his instincts mandating he get the omega medical help as quickly as possible but remembers his military training for head injuries. He could jostle their head and make things worse. He instead starts to walk as quickly, yet smoothly, as he could through the city, the late hour and lack of crowds helping. Occasionally the omega in his arms would mutter incoherently, at one point listing a to-do list of plants to harvest tomorrow. San really felt his heart break when he muttered a question asking if the alpha followed him home, the man’s head weakly swiveling before he goes limp in San’s arms, unconscious from the head injury. San begins to run to the palace, knowing medical attention is more important than jarring the injury at the moment. He bursts through the main gate calling for the royal pack’s doctor to be summoned to the infirmary immediately, demanding care for the omega with a heart of gold. He would handle Hongjoong’s concerns later, but right now, the omega needs medical care.
San lays the man down on one of the infirmary’s cots, noticing blood on his mail near where the omega’s head was resting. Not only was the omega’s body littered in bruises, his face weathering a few as well, his head wound from the wall was severe enough to bleed as well.
The doctor finally arrived, one of the most trusted people outside of the pack and Hongjoong’s parents, no sign of the sleep he was interrupted from present in his eyes. The walks up to San, checking his eyes for dilation and any lingering bruises, but San redirects the doctor to the omega on the bed, slightly hidden behind the door the doctor entered through. The doctor ushers San away from the bed, and San follows the silent order, giving the doctor space to work on his new patient.
The doctor and San share a tense few minutes, one worried and one inspecting. The doctor starts with the head wound that is leaking blood, wrapping a bandage over the open spot, the split not bad enough to require stitches. He moves down to the bruises on the man’s face, his fingers gently prodding for any broken bone. He repeats the same motions for the rest of the bruising on his arms and around the man’s ribs. The doctor must not find anything concerning as he confirms that the omega would wake up, but it would a few days after the brain healed itself from the hit it took. San can feel himself delate as he thanks the doctor and goes to stay at the omega’s bedside till morning came, knowing one of his pack would eventually find him there.