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She feels silly as she takes the last step onto the second floor. Well, ‘floor’ is a strong word. The run-down apartment complex was an affront to her eyes after the admittedly lavish grandeur of Nevermore's hallways. But, it was something her friend was so proud of, so she chose not to say anything. Even if the faintest whiffs of weed from two floors above made her grimace. But, yes, silly. She felt absolutely silly. It was normal to be left on read. It was certainly normal, what with life and being employed, to not be able to respond to a message. And it was completely, undoubtedly normal to not hear from someone for a few days.
Just… not with her.
The birds chitter outside. Ac units crank then hum. Somewhere in the flat above a child - or a horse - stomps around. And yet, the sound of her knuckles rapting against the door seems to be the loudest.
A moment passes. Then another. She knocks again, rolling her shoulders against the phantom eyes no doubt peeking through the lens on their doors. Nosy neighbors. It doesn't matter. What matters is that the longer her knock goes unanswered the more her anxiety builds.
With a huff Larissa pulls out her phone. Maybe she's out shopping. Her car is here in the parking lot, but she has other friends. There are plenty of reasons why-
The distant ringing of a phone makes her stomach drop. Her own has been lowered part way, unconsciously deemed less important. (Y/n), as much as they like to joke, was addicted to the device. She never left home without it. Her car is out front. Her phone is here - gone unanswered. Something is very wrong.
The spare key is already turning in the lock when Larissa acknowledges the tiny voice in the back of her head saying she's overreacting. That voice - and every other noise assaulting her ears - is immediately silenced as she pushes the door open and catches the scent that a lifetime of working with children has made her all too familiar with.
Distress.
“(Y/n)?” She closes the door behind her. Sharp eyes scan the room. It's tidy. Lived in. There's no signs of a struggle, only an unmade couch with a blanket strewn across. She must be further inside.
Larissa follows the scent of distress. It's stronger now, and not just because she's nearing its source. No, it rose in its intensity the second she called out. Halfway to the room she tries again.
“(Y/n)? Are you alright?”
And then, she smells it. Even faint like this it sends a shock down her spine that makes her straighten. Her cautious steps quicken just the smallest bit.
‘No… It can't be.’
It takes all of her strength to pause at the door. The handle is cold in her hand, but the air is warm with the scent of sweat and fear and heat.
Heat.
“(Y/n),” Larissa's tone is as rigid as her spine, and far more wrecked. “Answer me, or I'm coming in.”
There's a noise. With her senses sharpened she can hear it clear as day. A croak. The barest hints of a whimper. A noise so strained that Larissa just barely keeps herself from breaking the door down.
A wave of pheromones floods over her. The room is drenched in it. Sweat and musk and spiced fear that permeates the room like a bad marinade. And there, in the center of the room, the source of it all, is (Y/n).
Omega.
A soft growl builds inside Larissa's throat. The fear scent is stronger now. Omega is shaking. Omega is scared. Find the threat - get rid of it so Omega can feel safe.
Larissa takes a step into the room. Just one. Because one is all it takes for the omega's face to crumble and her hands to weakly push against the bed. The scent spikes with agony and terror, joined by the sweet salt of tears. The only scent in the room. There's no one else here.
Omega is scared…of me.
In the time it takes to clear her throat Larissa visibly pulls herself together. She can only imagine what she looks like. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared, mouth pulled halfway into a snarl. An alpha barging into the nest of an omega. No wonder she's terrified.
“(Y/n)...” She takes a step forward, wincing at the scared whimper she earns. The soft “no, no, back” goes straight to her heart. She wants to listen. She really does. If there's one person she never wants to risk driving away, it's you. She wants to ignore the voice screaming at her that ‘Omega is hurting. Omega needs us. Help Omega.’ But she can't leave it like this. Bracing herself, she takes another step forward and bares her throat. Her own scent begins to fan out; soft tendrils of ‘calm, safety, friend’ tentatively poking against the hazy cloud of fear.
“It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. Settle, settle.” The unsteady head of her friend lifts, and Larissa's heart seizes. Her eyes are narrowed and unfocused not with want, but with pain and terror. Does…does she even know what's going on? She's next to the bed now, close enough to hear the whispers, and she almost wishes she hadn't.
"No, don't want. Please. Don't. Don't want." Soft and frantic, barely audible in its repetition, spoken by one far too overwhelmed to speak but is trying anyway. Her head twists to the side. A thrash without energy. A chest that heaves faster and faster, a scratchy whine stuttering that the Alpha can hear plainly. She's spiraling.
“(Y/n), it's me. It's Larissa.”
It's not enough. She knows this. Her friend still breathes like she ran a marathon, but her eyes drift in her direction. Larissa allows herself the tiniest bit of relief as she lets her scent fan out once again. She’s careful to keep it as a gentle waft. This isn’t an unruly teenager that needed to be restrained. This is a peer - a friend. One whose fear permeates the entire room. A different kind of sniffing fills the air. Once, twice, then the Omega's face scrunches in confusion.
“L'ris-sa?”
The slurring voice makes her slump. It's raspy - so tired and pained - but it’s her.
“Yes, dear. It’s me. I’m a friend, remember? Is it okay if I sit?” There’s a moment where the world seems to slow. Maybe it’s her, and the fact that she holds her breath while her friend looks at her without recognition. Or maybe it's that the relief that follows when (Y/n) finally nods is so grand that everything else pales in comparison. The woman's head thumps against the pillow, but it's worth it to be free of the cloud of uncertainty hanging over them. Like an oncoming storm. Larissa takes a second, both to let the omega become accustomed to the new body and to take her in. Her friend is squinting in that way she does when she's suffering. Her curls are matted with sweat. Poor thing must've forgotten her bonnet. A double layer of blankets. Is she cold? No, she runs hot. For pressure, then. A soothing noise rumbles in her throat. “Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”
Her hand reaches out, and that's where it starts to go south.
The second she makes contact the body under her sags. (Y/n) makes a noise like she's deflating, but instead of relief the room becomes sour with ‘fear’ and ‘betrayal’.
Oh…
Her mouth wobbles in horror. She can't possibly think… No, no, she's in pain. Her mind isn't clear. She's just scared, she- Oh, stars.
She's on her side before she knows it. She's close to the edge of the bed, her keys are digging into her side, but she can't bring herself to care. Alpha brings Omega into her arms. One hand rests on the small of her back, the other runs up and down between her shoulders. Larissa tucks the hiccuping omega under her chin, her nose against the alpha's collarbone, hushing her gently and frantically. “It's okay. You're alright. I'm not going to do anything.”
“Please.” The whine is pitchy and weak, and it only serves to make Larissa's heart break all over again. “Please-”
“Settle.” The alpha rumbles low and deep. There's a whimper at her chest - a small shudder racking the body in her hold - but the omega, thankfully, falls still. “You're safe. I won't take advantage of you, darling. Would never hurt you. Never.” She tilts her head back, bearing her throat, giving the omega full access to her scent gland - giving her the chance to bite and maim if she so wished. And she can't deny that her heart swells when the omega noses at her neck. Larissa lets her have all of it; her worry, her love, her clarity. She's not the hot-headed monster the woman is fearing. ‘I am not an interloper. I am your friend. You know me.’
They stay like that for a while. Long enough for her friend's breathing to even out. Long enough for Larissa's alpha to cease its frantic pacing. It doesn't retreat, oh no. It sits there in the back of her mind on its haunches, watching their friend-ally-packmate. Larissa welcomes it. Years of practice and refinement allowed her to use her alpha senses without becoming overwhelmed during the process. It's what made her such a successful headmaster. She was no stranger to forcing heated alphas into submission with her scent alone, or walking a new omega through presenting. But, judging by the prepared bottles of liquid iv and painkillers on the nightstand, she knows that this is not that.
“Alpha…?”
A soft exhale of relief. Larissa hums, running her hand down (Y/n)’s spine and smiling when she relaxes - truly relaxes - under her touch. “There we are. Alpha's here... Are we okay now?”
The woman nods. There is no explanation. There is no apology for keeping this a secret. Neither is necessary.
“Good… I'm going to pull away now. Is that alright?”
Hesitance. It would make her smile if she wasn't so worried. The omega doesn't want to leave her arms. ‘Comfort? Or maybe she was just hiding.’ (Y/n) had a dreadful habit of it; retreating and dealing with her troubles herself rather than reaching out for help. A conversation for later. What she asks instead is, “What do you need?”
(Y/n) heaves a breath. She expects resistance. Deflection, downplaying. All fundamental characteristics of her beloved friend. Too late she remembers her lack of voice, but it doesn't matter. What happens next is nothing short of miraculous. The stubborn woman- exhausted, reaching, trusting - brings her hand up, hovering her wrist by Larissa's shoulder. Larissa takes it in hand, her fingertips resting along the bones. She doesn't ask if she's sure. (Y/n) wouldn't offer if she wasn't. Feeling deeply honored, she turns her head to scent.
Exhaustion. Low blood sugar. Pain lacing every nerve.
“Hurts-”
“I can tell.” Her voice is direct but not unkind. She lowers the wrist down back between their chests, her thumb smoothing over the scent glance once before letting go. “When did you last take your medication?”
“In th’ morning.”
She doesn't need to glance at the clock to know that it's time for another dose. She does so anyway to lessen the sting of pulling away. “Alright. Let me get you something to eat. I know you're not hungry, but your body needs nourishment. Afterwards you can get cleaned up and rest.”
Her hand lingers the longest. The contact settles them both. Alpha, for daring to leave Omega by herself. Omega, for her first source of comfort to be gone even just for a few minutes. So it's no surprise that a frantic hand shoots out the second she stands. Larissa turns back immediately, a gentle clicking sounding in her throat. The grip around her wrist softens with the soothing sound. It takes a moment for her friend to speak, but when she does it makes Larissa's heart ache.
“Mad?”
“No, dear. I'm not mad.” ‘Not about this.’ Yet another conversation for later. But not now. Not when (Y/n)’s lip is wobbling and her eyes can't drift up past her waist. “Here,” she begins as she gently takes her wrist back and shrugs her arms out of her coat. “Rest. I'll be right back.” One final pat, and she isn't even turned all the way around before the omega pulls the coat laid over her closer to her nose.
It's when she's watching the frozen soup starter swirl around in the pot that she allows herself to absorb it all. Her friend is an Omega. The fact that she managed to hide it all these years is nothing short of impressive. Her blockers were strong enough to nullify her scent completely.
Larissa's lashes flutter. That scent… Underneath all that pain and musk had been the tantalizing smell of soft spice and something sweet. Honey and mango, something just soft enough to sink her teeth into. And Stars had she wanted to. She had wanted to kiss that offered wrist, feel it give beneath her teeth, and offer her own in return. But… there was something else that her alpha had been painfully aware of. All omegas needed a nest. It was essential for their physical and mental health. Even alphas benefitted from them. But (Y/n) didn't have even the suggestion of one. No pillows, nothing to hug, not even a simple scent cloth from a pack member. And where was her pack? She knew that her friend wasn't close to her family but…
Larissa hangs her head with a sigh. So many conversations they needed to have. But they could wait. Now that the soup was hot and there was fresh fruit to cut, she found herself impatient to get back to the omega.
Right after she texted her deputy that she would be away for a few days.