Chapter Text
Pope has many rules he follows to ensure he never gets caught. The golden one being: never do a job near home. And he is technically following that rule.
He isn't doing a job near his home.
But he is doing a job near his estranged twin brother's home, on the east coast.
Far enough from Oceanside that no one would even think to link him to it.
That is, if the job went right…
It was supposed to be simple. A one man job, large pay day, in and out. Just a clean robbery during a restocking of a local jewelry chain. Smurf's fence already had buyers lined up for the take. All Pope had to do was make it back to California with the jewels.
But things are never as simple as he thinks. Because when he robs the place, it's like the cops had already been tipped off. And he has a bad suspicion that his mother wanted him back in prison.
Why else would she have him get caught on the other side of the country?
Unfortunately for her, Pope has learned his lesson from his previous stint in prison and he knows how to get away from the cops much better now. He planned for this. He always has to now.
But what he wasn't planning for was you, getting off of work at the restaurant you serve at.
You have a bad habit of jaywalking because you're so used to there not being any cars on the street where you park, since it's a few blocks away from the restaurant. Plus, it's late at night in a run down part of town.
There are never cars driving around here—
Until one slams into you while you're in the middle of the street and you go flying into the glass window of a nearby discount thrift store.
You don't know if you feel lucky that the sheer number of clothing racks breaks your fall. It distracts you from the insanely large piece of glass that's lodged in your side. When you notice it, you almost scream from all the blood oozing out of you.
Almost, because a gloved hand goes over your mouth before you do.
“Don't scream and I'll take you to a hospital.”
You look up to see a man wearing one of those black ski masks, where you can only see his hazel eyes peeking through. Your heart is hammering in your chest but you don't know why it isn't out of fear. You aren't feeling afraid, mostly just startled.
Pope doesn't know why he stopped the car. He should've driven away. There's no reason for him to risk getting caught to check on an innocent bystander.
But something about you, about how soft and small and beautiful you are, made him stop the car. It was like he couldn't help it.
Could you be…
He shakes his head. You couldn't be. He would smell it. You don't smell like an unclaimed omega.
You don't smell like anything, which usually means you're a beta. If he smelled threatened by you, you'd likely be an alpha.
Like him.
Like his brother, who will not be happy to see him soon.
Because you tell Pope, through shaky breaths, “I don't have health insurance. I can't go to the hospital…”
You get paid cash under the table to serve at the hole in the wall, mom and pop restaurant you work at. Because…you have a criminal record. And it's hard enough getting a job in general but as a previous felon, it's even more difficult. Every employer, even though they aren't supposed to discriminate, looks at you differently once they've discovered what you've done time for. So, you can only work for shitty pay in bad parts of the city and pray that one day, you'll get out of here.
You had no idea that day would be coming much sooner than you thought…
“No screaming and I'll take you to a doctor I know.” Pope is not sure Jack will do him this favor. His brother owes him nothing after all the bullshit Pope put Jack through growing up.
That's why, when they got placed in the foster care system and Jack got the opportunity to get adopted by another family, he took it. The Abbots didn't want Julia or Andrew, because they had disciplinary records. So, they just took Jack.
Jack has no clue that Pope has been keeping tabs on him all this time. It has to be, what, more than twenty years since they've been separated? Maybe even longer…
So, it's a surprise to Jack why he's letting his twin brother bring you into his house, bleeding all over his hardwood floors.
“What the fuck, Pope?!” Jack moves everything off his dining table so Pope can set you down. “What the fuck are you doing here? Who is she?”
“I hit her with my fucking car. Can you save her or not?” Pope doesn't care for the reunion talk. He's more focused on the giant shard of glass poking out of the side of your hip.
“She needs a hospital.” Jack sees all the micro cuts from shattered glass all over your exposed skin where your clothes have ripped from the impact. Probably through a window…
“She can't pay for a hospital.” Pope doesn't have to explain anything extra to Jack. Jack knows how hard it is to afford medical care. He sees it every day.
“It…hurts…a lot…” You clutch your side, tears dripping down your face from the pain. “Am I going to die?”
“No.” They both say at the same time.
Jack glares at how close Pope is hovering. “If you want me to help her, get out of my way.”
Pope would move. But for some reason, even the simple action of stepping aside from you feels strange. He doesn't want to leave your side.
Jack sees a look on Pope's face that he has never seen before. It's…care. He cares about you. Jack can't seem to understand why Pope does. He hasn't ever cared for anyone, not truly.
But he worries for you.
And that's enough for Jack to care too, at least enough to make sure you don't die on his dining table.
It takes him all night to pull out every shard of glass from your skin. You're shivering by the end of it because he had to cut you out of your thick winter clothes to check your whole body. They were ruined anyway from the impact through the window.
It was difficult for Jack not to notice how nice of a body you had hidden under your rather modest work attire. It's even more difficult not to react to how cute you look in his clothes, since he had to put you in something after he finishes cleaning your wounds.
“You're lucky I wasn't working tonight.” Jack tells Pope once he has you wrapped up in a warm blanket and settled by the fireplace.
It's freezing outside. It's supposed to snow soon. Jack thankfully bought some wood ahead of time so you're all snuggled up and cozy, the fire illuminating you as you sleep peacefully on the fluffy rug Jack laid down there.
To help with recovery, he gave you all the painkillers he had. It's a miracle you didn't break any bones. You did lose a lot of blood but him and Pope are both universal donors so…you are very lucky you didn't need to go to a hospital. Jack had everything needed to treat you.
“Thanks.” Pope doesn't know what else to say.
“Who the hell is she?” Jack can't wrap his head around his brother helping some random person off the street. He has definitely left people for dead for less.
While Jack hasn't kept in touch with Pope, he will, on occasion, call Catherine since they were friends prior to him moving away. She keeps him in the loop since she understands what it's like not to like his family.
Though, he hasn't heard from her in a while…
“I don't know. I was…running from the cops and I hit her with the getaway car.”
“Is that what's in my driveway right now?” Jack bites back the anger that's threatening to come out. “Am I an accomplice now?”
“No, it's her car. I crashed the other car into the store she fucking smashed into. There's no reason for them to think it was anything but a car crash. They probably think I'm on foot somewhere nearby.”
Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, a headache forming at the center of his skull. “What the fuck are you doing here, Pope?”
“Smurf has a connection here with an in for this jewelry chain. She wanted me to hit the restock.”
“She made you come all the way out here for a job?” Jack would believe it. Their mother is crazy.
“I'm pretty sure she tipped off the police.” Pope had a bad feeling when she told him to go alone without his brothers or J.
“Why would she do that?” Jack shouldn't ask that. He already knows.
“Because she wants me to go back to prison.” Pope is certain she never wanted him to get out. “That way, none of them have to deal with me.”
She probably figured he'd die in there. He almost did, several times. The abuse was brutal, especially since he went to a prison full of criminal alphas. The guards were alphas too. Everyone was on edge and looking to be the toughest guy in there. It's a miracle Pope got out early.
Smurf has been making him do risky shit ever since, hoping he'd slip up. He almost did, getting involved with you.
Pope hasn't taken his eyes off of you since he saw you for the first time. He doesn't like the feeling that stirs in his chest when he sees how peacefully you're sleeping. Nor does he like the ache that he feels when you wince from the pain before adjusting your sleeping position, like your body is remembering that you got hurt.
“You don't take anything, do you?” Jack, again, keeps asking questions he knows the answer to.
Pope refused to take any suppressants growing up. Jack did because he knew it would be better in the long run not to let the hormonal imbalance of being an unmated alpha interfere with his life. He has been taking them every day since puberty. He hasn't missed a dose yet.
“Smurf tried to sneak some in my food but I figured it out.” Pope doesn't like the way the suppressants make him feel. They dull everything and whenever he gets that dull, he's afraid of what he might do to try to feel something again…
“You should take them. They've made them better since we were kids. They won't make you feel weird anymore.” Jack is very different from his brother in many ways.
Despite growing up in the same household, Jack learned at a young age that being in control is always the best option. Pope would rather let the people around him control him, tell him what to do, push him towards whatever they wanted for him, even if it ate at him inside. Jack tried so hard to get Pope to snap out of that mentality but it never worked. Pope would just lash out at Jack and soon enough, Jack was tired of trying.
When he moved away, he forgot what it was like to be a Cody, with all that unnecessary pressure.
In his mind, he will always be an Abbot.
He wonders if life would've been different for Pope had he been adopted by them too.
“Do you have one of those machines?” Pope can't remember what they're called. “That check for markers?”
“Pope, she's definitely a beta.” Jack has worked with plenty of omegas before. He knows the smell well. It doesn't affect him, given the suppressants, but it still is prevalent regardless.
You don't smell like anything, except blood…
“Do you have a machine or not?” Pope knows Jack's right but he can't shake the feeling.
“Yeah, I have one but it's not super accurate since it's a portable one.” Jack goes to his backpack where he keeps his on-the-go medical supplies and pulls out a machine that looks like a credit card reader.
It's useful to have a detector on hand since, medically speaking, each demarcation has their own unique subset of possible complications. For betas, they heal much slower than alphas and omegas, meaning for wounds like yours, it'll likely take twice as long to get you back on your feet. It also means betas need faster medical treatment because they can die much easier.
Mated omegas and alphas heal exceptionally well. Something about their bond allows them to heal in the presence of each other. That's why it's never a good idea to separate an alpha and an omega when one of them is hurt. It slows the healing process tremendously if so. Though, instinctually, if one of them is hurt, the other could never leave their side. It makes them feel sick stepping away from their mate.
Maybe that's why Pope thinks you might be an omega. Because he doesn't seem to want to leave your side.
Jack pricks you with a sterilized needle and then drops the blood into the machine. It whirs and then beeps after a few seconds, flashing the result on the screen.
“High traces of the beta marker.” Jack shows Pope. “Told you.”
Pope nods. That confirms it. So, he should be able to leave you. He should leave you to get back to Oceanside to fence the jewelry he stole that's sitting in your car right now.
But he asks Jack instead, “can I…stay here for a while?”
His brother doesn't look happy about that. “Why do you want to stay here?”
“Just until I find my own fence. Once I have the cash, I'll leave. I need to get out of the country or something. Disappear somewhere Smurf can't find me, like you did.”
“I didn't disappear.” Jack corrects him. “She never bothered looking for me. She'd look for you, though.”
Pope was always her favorite because he was her errand boy. Jack never let her use him the way she uses Pope and he tried his whole life to get Pope to stop letting Smurf walk all over him. But Pope is loyal. He always has been.
“Please, Jack.” Pope rarely begs but…he doesn't want to go back to Oceanside. “Just until she recovers. I'll keep an eye on her while you're at work. I'll be out of your hair then.”
“You're going to make me gray more than I already am.” Jack brushes his fingers through the gray streaks in his hair. Then, he concedes, “fine, but only if you help me clean up. My housekeeper has been on vacation.”
Pope did notice that, minus all your blood on his floors, Jack's place could be a lot cleaner. There's clothes everywhere. It looks like Jack doesn't make it to his bed half the time from the way there's blankets piled up in the living room.
Jack catches Pope staring. “I sleep out here when it's cold, since it has the fireplace.”
“I wasn't judging.” He can't judge. He barely sleeps as is. “I'll get your shit cleaned up.”
“You can take the guest room. The one on the left.” Jack points down the hallway. “Are you going to sleep now?”
“No, I'll sit here.” Pope walks over to the armchair that Jack has in the living room, sitting down, staring at you all curled up by the fire.
Jack finds himself looking at you too before he snaps his attention away. There's no reason for him to be staring at you, other than the fact that you're a gorgeous woman who happens to be sleeping in his house.
That same strange feeling that's stirring in Pope is making Jack's stomach churn every step he takes away from you towards his room. It's faint, like his body is trying to digest food that isn't sitting well with him. He figures it must be from having to give blood while performing surgery on you to get those glass shards out.
The queasy feeling doesn't end, though. Jack finds it hard to sleep. He feels colder than usual too. He tries to tough through it but he needs to sleep since he's working the night shift.
So, after enough time has passed, he gets up and walks out to the living room. Pope is fast asleep, sitting up on the chair. You're still sleeping by the fire, the medicine definitely helping you relax. Jack lays down on the couch and for some reason, he feels a lot better now.
He doesn't like the way he's looking at you, though. He doesn't feel comfortable with the thoughts stirring in his mind. Of how nice it would be to scoop you into his arms and hold you while you sleep.
Jack shakes it off. He hasn't thought like that in…maybe ever, honestly. He has never been so drawn to someone before.
And he doesn't even know your name.