Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8474590.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Marvel_Cinematic_Universe, Captain_America_-_All_Media_Types, The
      Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types, Doctor_Strange_(2016), Spider-Man_-
      All_Media_Types, X-Men_-_All_Media_Types, Deadpool_-_All_Media_Types,
      Fantastic_Four
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Steve_Rogers, Clint_Barton/Natasha_Romanov, Riley/
      Sam_Wilson, Peter_Parker/Wade_Wilson, Wanda_Maximoff/Vision, Pepper
      Potts/Tony_Stark
  Character:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Steve_Rogers, Natasha_Romanov, Clint_Barton, Riley_
      (Captain_America_movies), Sam_Wilson_(Marvel), Peter_Parker, Wade_Wilson,
      Wanda_Maximoff, Vision_(Marvel), Pietro_Maximoff, Darcy_Lewis, Pepper
      Potts, Tony_Stark, Jarvis_(Iron_Man_movies), James_"Rhodey"_Rhodes,
      Johnny_Storm, Stephen_Strange, Harry_Osborn, Norman_Osborn, Arnim_Zola,
      Johann_Schmidt, Alexander_Pierce, Nick_Fury, Maria_Hill, Phil_Coulson,
      Brock_Rumlow, Jack_Rollins, Rachel_Summers, Original_Characters, Peggy
      Carter, Sharon_Carter_(Marvel), Helmut_Zemo, T'Challa_(Marvel), Kaecilius
      (Marvel)
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, rape_between_canon_characters, Graphic
      Description, Violence, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Vampires, Medical
      Experimentation, death_of_children, psychic_vampires, Alternate_Universe
      -_Steampunk, Grief/Mourning, Mind_Control, Alpha_Steve_Rogers, Omega
      Bucky_Barnes, Mpreg, Medical_Trauma, Public_Sex, Group_Sex, Omega-Omega
      pairing, Hate_Sex, Spanking, Light_BDSM, Omega-Omega_Pregancy, Beta-Beta
      pregnancy, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Vaginal_Sex, Sex_Toys, Attempted
      Kidnapping, Forced_Steralization
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-05 Completed: 2017-04-03 Chapters: 29/29 Words: 235060
****** When You're a Stranger ******
by samwise_baggins, Steve-Bucky-Stucky_(Chemical30)
Summary
     To save a vampyre hunter's life, a vampyre converts him . . .
     suddenly, everything spins out of control and everyone (vampyre,
     vampire, and human) is thrown into a chaotic whirl that can only end
     in violence. Is love really meant to cross race and time?
Notes
     Disclaimer: A note on gender identity: ‘It’ is the pronoun used
     throughout this document to denote male and/or female, unspecified.
     The pronoun ‘it’ is meant to encompass, rather than exclude, any and
     all genders, preferences, or natures. Where an actual gender,
     preference, or nature is specified, the selected term is considered
     generally acceptable but not exclusive. Otherwise, as a gender-
     neutral term, ‘it’ functions for the singular and ‘they’ for the
     plural. Thank you.
     Also, please check out the tumblr for pictures done by slaughterme-
     barnes http://slaughterme-barnes.tumblr.com/
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Of Death and Rebirth *****
James Barnes, known as Bucky to the few friends he let close enough, tucked his
chin close to his chest, the bitter, cold wind cutting straight through his
coat. His long brown hair whipped wildly in the air from the strong gusts of
wind. The heels of his boots sounded quietly against the cobblestone road, his
pale blue eyes constantly flickering around, taking in his surroundings. The
brunet’s left hand stayed in his coat pocket, fingers playing with the weapon
he had stored there.
Looking up at the large factory in front of him, steam billowing from one of
the large pipes on the roof, Bucky took a deep, determined breath before
pulling out the metallic stake, clutched firmly in his left hand, and slipping
inside.
The factory smelled of wood-smoke, fire ash, and sweat. Grease and the general
newness of the building and large machinery permeated the air. With most of the
equipment turned off for the night, silence seemed to echo over the vast rooms,
sliding among the looms and threaders, though a soft whirring noise could be
heard stretching from a back office. Dust, cotton fibers, and other detritus
from the few weeks of full cloth production littered the floors and laid over
every surface, along with the general feel of desperation that drove the
workers, mainly women too tired to wonder at their own hollow lives or children
too young, but oh so nimble inside the massive machines, to know how helpless
they truly were. This was a newly minted full cloth factory for the rising
industrial giants to squeeze the life and labor from the underclass with no one
able to stop the inevitable march of inhumane progress.
On a catwalk, as if surveying his already decaying domain, stood the tall,
muscular form of Steve Rogers, a man of physical beauty. His dress was
impeccable, matching his markless features, his eyes a brilliant sapphire,
taking in the expanse of humanity’s newest monument to forced menial labor and
untimely death. Flush lips practically hidden behind a neatly trimmed red-gold
beard hinted at a sensuality belied by the wide set shoulders and almost
impossibly narrow waist. In one ceilingless room below his perch a series of
wood fires slowly died out, tended by him alone, fueling the last dregs of
power to that one loom he had claimed for his own masterpiece of cloth weaving.
As the lone night security guard, hired sight unseen by the rich, almost
negligent factory owner, Steve had free reign of the grounds and building, thus
he had claimed, and mainly kept locked tight, a small office with loom in the
back. But something had drawn him early from the end of his night’s work, and
so he left his personal business untended as he stood, monitoring the chilled
rooms and night-cold machines, pursuing his more mundane nightly occupation.
Finally, he spotted the sole figure on the ground floor, the one which didn’t
belong, had arrived uninvited. Silently, the blond watched the man’s progress .
. . the human hunter who had pursued him almost to exclusion for several years.
Though fast for one of his fragile kind, James Barnes was laughably child-
clumsy when compared to a vampyre of Steve’s vast years and rare abilities. The
reborn being merely watched the less-than-stealthy movements of his long-time
adversary . . . well, long time for a human; a mere extended moment or two for
Steve.
Bucky made it up the last step, his lean body already tensed with defensiveness
as he looked at the vampyre standing in the middle of the catwalk. The hunter’s
footsteps echoed throughout the empty space as they sounded against the metal
grate of the floor below him.
Amusement flickered over Steve’s intense blue eyes and, conversationally, he
said “Ah, the ‘Winter Soldier’ again?” The company which had hired James, a
group of vampyre hunters called Hydra, had nicknamed the man such for his eerie
ability to slip in like a silent winter snowfall and bring cold death then melt
away. But that name had been granted by humans, who considered James Barnes to
be the epitome of stealth. For the vampyre community, it was a joke, a child’s
foolish dreams, a frighteningly real threat by an otherwise unthreatening
human.
Bucky sneered, flipping his stake between brass fingers, the metal gleaming
from the moonlight pouring in through one of the windows, “Cap, been awhile.”
Noting the bitterly metallic protective sheath over the human’s strangely
twisted and scarred arm, Steve felt a surge of anger and pity, quickly tamped
down. Emotions had no place in an encounter between vampyre and hunter, even if
the vampyre in question found these little sparring matches more of an
amusement than a risk. He knew James was no match for him, but he continued to
allow the man his hopes, his delusions. Softly, Steve said, “Someone took a
souvenir since last we met?” and gestured to the prosthetic, a flicker of
something akin to regret crossed briefly over his calm face before he once
more, coldly, pushed all emotion away.
Taking a step to the side, pale blue eyes never leaving his target, Bucky
twirled the stake again, the mechanic whir of the protective covering filling
the space, “have one of your blood-sucking friends to thank for it. Maybe you
can help me out, Cap. I’d like to send a fruit basket or something.”
As if disinterested, pacing slightly in the opposite direction, keeping the
space between them like a dance, Steve said, “and to which friend should I
deliver your message?”
“Natasha Romanov,” Bucky answered, eyes narrowing.
“You lived after meeting the Russian?” Sounding faintly impressed, Steve let a
small smile flicker over his full lips, all but hidden by his soft beard, “ah,
but I would expect nothing less of the ‘Winter Soldier’.” In reality, he was
surprised the frail human had ever been seen again if he’d tangled with the
Romanov; she was not known to spare hunters.
“You and me have been doin’ this dance for awhile, Cap,” Bucky leered, taking
an offensive step forward; however, he still left some space between himself
and Steve. “‘Bout time we finish this. I will say, though, that I’ll miss
chasing your shadow.”
“Shadows are all you ever will catch, infant,” Steve said with a bored look.
Snarling at the offensive name, Bucky took another step forward, lifting his
arms higher, body crouching in a defensive stance. “We’ll see about that,” the
hunter growled before launching himself towards the Vampyre.
With reflexes born of his particular clan’s gifts, the vampyre surged up and
over the advancing human, landing neatly behind him. Whirling around, striking
out with his right arm, Steve slammed his powerful, muscular limb across the
metal gears of James’ prosthetic covering, jamming the elbow so it would extend
and contract with great difficulty. He barely registered that they had crossed
over the ceilingless rooms to face off over his own still humming, still
diligently working automatic steam loom.
Grunting with the pain of his damaged arm being bent, Bucky lifted his leg to
kick forcibly at the vampyre, trying to get distance between them once again.
Steve caught the man by the boot, taking the brunt of his forceful strike
without even a grunt, though he felt it vibrate through his muscles. So, the
man had learned a trick or two recently, probably from Romanov. Letting the man
overbalance due to the interrupted flow of the attack, Steve suddenly thrust
backwards, hard, letting James go at the apex of his push.
Stumbling back, heels teetering over the edge of the catwalk, Bucky, with a
soft gasp of surprise, fell into the massive working loom below. Strong threads
being shot over and back by the shuttle wrapped hungrily at the metal gears and
supports of his prosthetic sheath, dragging him into the teeth of the card
reader, gnawing metal and flesh easily, painfully, crunching through bone and
thin leather straps and even thinner support frame with the ease of a man
chewing a piece of long-roasted beef.
Bucky let out a loud, piercing scream as the powerful machine chewed and tore
his arm. The hunter tried to fight against the gears and sharp teeth that
ripped through his tissue and muscles like they were nothing more than
parchment.
Horror crossed Steve’s features and he flung himself down, over the catwalk
edge and to the concrete floor, ignoring the minor jarring from such an
incredible drop and sudden landing. He reached instinctively into the machine,
ripping strong threads with his bare hands, pulling the man out by anything he
could reach: his shredding clothes, his long hair.
Finally, he won the deadly tug-of-war, and Steve knelt by the damaged machine,
holding the bleeding human across his lap, the formerly damaged limb ripped
horrendously from the socket. Human medicine could do nothing in time to help
this brave, foolish, misguided man to live. “James . . .” Steve’s voice
whispered, broken and horrified, an odd, indefinable wrenching in his chest.
Bucky gasped, his face already paling with the massive amount of blood loss,
his pale eyes struggling to stay focused. Blood soaked through the ripped coat,
pooling below him on the concrete floor; crimson had splattered on the hunter’s
neck and face from the violent injury. Feebly, with his only remaining arm, the
hunter tried to shove the vampyre away, a pained groan breaking past his lips
as the movement jarred his severely damaged shoulder.
Ignoring the weak kitten-like attempt to move him, Steve cupped the man’s face
firmly in both large strong hands. He forced James to either meet his eyes or
close his own. Knowing he made a choice for the human that James might never
want, but feeling responsible for the mortal wound he’d inadvertently inflicted
on the frail being, Steve leaned in and sealed his lips over James’, beard
scratching across the human’s mouth, drawing energy from the man’s body and
forcing him to accept Steve’s in return, sharing, blending the very essence of
their beings.
Bucky continued to struggle, right hand pressing against Steve’s chest, but the
vampyre’s grip was too strong, there was nothing the brunet could do to stop
this.
The small contact wasn’t enough to help in the short time the human had
remaining. Never unsealing their mouths, Steve ripped the man’s clothing from
him with unnatural strength. He pulled his own clothing off, still one handed,
the other forcing James to keep the kiss going. Pressing their nude bodies
against one another, the vampyre allowed the energy exchange to happen along
their entire lengths, wherever flesh touched flesh.
Letting out a pained scream, muffled by Steve’s lips against his own, Bucky’s
back arched off the ground as fiery pain raced through his veins. His hand
never left the vampyre’s chest, still attempting to shove the stronger being
off of him, although the attempts were becoming weaker as each moment passed,
the steady amount of blood leaving his body taking the young hunter’s life
faster than the vampyre could give.
The human’s life was failing fast as his blood continued to seep from that torn
arm, despite Steve’s attempts. There was no other way, not if the blond wished
to save the brunet. Drawing in a breath through his nose, still sealing their
mouths, Steve used his free hand to grip James tightly and flip them over, the
dying human on the cold cement floor now. Fumbling James’ legs open, pushing
him wide with strong hips, Steve lined up. There was no time to prepare the
man; he needed too much contact, too much life energy to go gently. Steve
thrust his large length into the smaller man without preparation, feeling that
tight heat tear but having no other choice. Instead, he merely drove his own
flesh harshly, quickly in and out, shunting into the man as forcefully as he
could to bring himself to completion as soon as possible. The tight,
regrettably moistening blood heat of James surprisingly enticed Steve like no
other sexual contact had. He had never raped a person before, and normally such
an action would be repellent, but the very idea that through this one brutal
act he could spare James’ life, his almost pure innocent confused soul, drove
Steve further towards completion.
A loud, sobbing scream erupted from the weakened human, his hand clawing and
scrabbling at the icy concrete floor below him to try and get away. The fire in
his veins paled in comparison to the tearing, ripping of his virgin passage as
Steve thrust in and out. Bucky had received many injuries and prided himself on
being able to handle pain . . . but this - - he’d never felt anything this
agonizing. His whole body ached and jarred with the vampyre’s brutal pace.
“Stop . . . please . . .” Bucky whimpered, his pride fading away as he gave
into begging for the being he saw as his enemy to stop, to just let him die.
“Accept me, damnit it!” Steve growled low in his throat, almost a guttural
rumble. “Accept me and I will stop.” He was close, Steve could feel the
building, tightening heat, but he could not release without James’ permission.
It wouldn’t work without that small acquiescence.
Seeing no other choice, Bucky sobbed once more and let his body still, no
longer fighting, just giving his body up to the vampyre.
“Thank you,” Steve breathed, almost inaudibly, as he thrust in once, twice, a
third time, deep, bottoming out completely, balls slapping heavily against
James’ tortured flesh. Then the vampyre released his hot load, filling the
human, painting his walls with thick ropes of cum. Steve breathed into James’
mouth, a breath of life for a dying man, his energy coursing through his pores
and spent member to fill the human . . . and change him like no natural process
could.
Gently cupping James’ . . . no, he could read his unwilling lover's mind now
and knew the man preferred Bucky . . . cupping Bucky’s head gently in one large
hand, Steve eased his kiss as he stilled, still semi-erect, inside that now
healing passage, surprised by the intense pleasure he felt as the torn flesh
re-knitted around him, tightening even more as the once virgin male below him
recovered, fitting Steve exactly. The bloody shoulder had stopped giving off
life essence and the chilled flesh below Steve’s felt . . . right once more.
“Good boy, baby . . .” Steve cooed softly.
Bucky panted, his last breaths wheezing as his body changed into something he
despised, his icy blue eyes wide as they developed a bright gold ring around
the irises. Finally, his lungs, his heart stopped. He looked up at the blond
vampyre above him, eyes glowing with golden fire. Bucky clawed at Steve’s
chest, nails digging at the cold, stone-like flesh; his body vibrated with
need. He needed more contact, his body betraying his mind, “Cap . . .” the
hunter had never learned the vampyre’s real name, only the name that Hydra had
given him.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Steve cooed again, and began to slowly move
inside the newborn vampyre, this time gentle and unhurried. They now had all
the time in the world.
Body more sensitive than ever, Bucky moaned and canted his hips to meet
Steve’s, his whole being seemed to be taken over by the primal need for the
contact, for the energy that the older vampyre released with each thrust.
His voice gentle, expression caring and almost loving, Steve began to softly
kiss Bucky’s face, his neck, his now healed shoulder, beard lightly rasping
over each place. If later the fledgling vampyre wanted a replacement arm, Steve
would provide it as much as he was providing the energy his newborn craved.
“Cap . . .” Bucky moaned again, “please . . .” the brunet’s arm wrapped around
the bigger being, bringing their bodies closer, chests flush.
“What do you desire, sweetheart?” Steve prompted, his pace gentle even as his
massive tool swelled once more with the desire to claim this man below him.
Steve had never sired a vampyre before, and the need to protect, to fulfill,
grew with each stroke inside his new lover, the Omega to his Alpha.
“Need it . . .” Bucky breathed, his body thrumming with pleasure, his new
heightened senses completely overwhelmed so that he couldn’t even think
straight, couldn’t think about the fact that the man inside of him was
something he’d been raised to hate, to kill.
“Need what, my love,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s shoulder, kissing the
healed flesh, the smooth skin. “Tell me what I should do for you.” He picked up
the pace, but only slightly, wanting to feel this heavenly tightness pulling at
him, desiring release all over again, even this soon, but not wanting to rush
this time, now that they had time.
At the increased pace, Bucky moaned, head falling back; his body longed to
submit completely to his sire. He needed more; he felt a fire in his veins that
only seemed to calm when Steve thrust completely inside.
“You need to use your words, my love,” Steve instructed gently, pulling his
mind back to his own long-ago rebirthing and how his own sire had failed to
instruct him, a mistake he would not repeat for his own newborn. “You need to
push past the feelings and control them. Words ground you, Bucky. Tell me what
you desire.” He opened his lips to expose his fangs and dragged them ever so
lightly across Bucky’s shoulder towards his throat.
“Fire . . . burns . . .” Bucky gasped out, the feeling of Steve’s fangs against
his skin causing his eyes to roll back and hips to thrust upwards again,
pushing the blond deeper inside his passage. His skin burned and tingled, the
cold concrete below and the firmness of Steve’s strong body above him was
almost too much for the newborn to handle.
“That is your new energy, love. It will burn for the rest of your life. It
grows hotter when you are near me, even if you do not see or hear me,” Steve
patiently whispered against the skin he teased. He continued his slow thrusts
into Bucky, continually joining his lover, filling him over and over with the
massive tool.
“Make it stop, Cap . . . please . . .” Bucky whimpered.
“I will never make it stop, Bucky,” Steve vowed. “I want you to burn bright as
the heavenly stars.”
“It hurts . . . too much,” the brunet ran his nails down Steve’s back.
“Only because it is so new, Sweetheart,” Steve cooed gently. “You must accept
it, learn to feel. Do not let it overwhelm you, control it and embrace it. This
is who you are now, my love. Do not deny yourself.”
This is who you are now, those words seemed to echo in Bucky’s mind, over and
over again, like a sickening taunt. The words cleared the fog in the newborn’s
mind, finally allowing his anger to burn through, turning his eyes completely
gold. Growling, the brunet shoved against Steve again, pushing with all the
strength he’d gained from Steve.
The older vampyre fell back, off and out of the newborn, landing on the cold
stone ground of his private office, near the damaged yet still grinding
automatic loom. Surprise lit his features as he looked at his lover. Of course
the younger vampyres strength had been nothing as compared to Steve; he’d moved
simply from the shock of the sudden rejection in the middle of a feeding - -
such a thing was unheard of.
Bucky scrambled off the floor, his skin still stained with the dark crimson of
his blood, although he no longer bled. “What did you do to me?!” the brunet
shouted, his teeth bared in a snarl, flashing Steve his new fangs.
“You would have died, permanently, Bucky. I . . . stopped that.” Steve stood
and held up his hands, palms out. “I healed you.”
“You turned me!” Bucky growled, “you should’ve just let me die!” The brunet
looked down at his left shoulder; he stumbled back. It seemed to hit him that
his arm was gone. His whole life had been fighting and hunting, now he was
crippled, useless . . . even worse than that, he was now a part of the same
species he’d committed his entire life to wiping out.
Steve’s hand shot out to catch Bucky’s right arm easily, preventing a fall into
that still dangerous machine nearby. “Calm down, Bucky, please. Let me wash you
and dress you, and we can discuss your new life.”
Bucky snarled, eyes flashing dangerously, his body curled into a defensive
stance. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you!” However, the mere thought of
being separated from his sire caused a twinge of pain in his chest. What had
Steve turned him into? Some sick type of slave? Bucky had heard of some
vampyres turning humans into their own personal slaves, an object to be used at
their discretion. The newborn couldn’t understand his subconscious need to be
around Steve, to be a close as possible.
With a sigh, Steve moved to the desk and the wash station beside it. He opened
the cabinet then gave the pump a hard push or two to get the water flowing into
the basin. “At least let me wash you up, Buck. You’re filthy.” The clothes were
a complete loss, but Steve kept a small closet of them since he practically
lived here, locking himself almost securely into the small work room-office
combination during the weakening daylight hours.
Instead of listening to the older, stronger vampyre, Bucky backed up further,
shaking his head. The brunet’s eyes were wide and his expression was a mix of
anger and fear.
Instantly, Steve grabbed Bucky by the right arm again, dragging him forcibly
from the nearby machine, the cloth, metal, and flesh still trapped deep in it’s
gears. “Will you stop trying to re-kill yourself? That won’t be a pleasant
experience and will be a painful re-healing process.” Steve’s tone came out
short, frustrated at Bucky’s still clumsy newborn confusion. He drew a breath,
reminding himself that his newborn needed patience and understanding.
Wrenching his arm out of Steve’s grip, Bucky growled, low and hateful, “I’d
rather stake myself through the fucking heart than stay here with you.”
“That won’t work, so don’t even bother, unless you want the others to tease you
for being a foolish pup,” Steve sighed. “Heart staking only works on blood-
suckers since that’s where they store their foul energy-giving blood supplies.”
“Then what am I? What are you? I’ve killed your kind with a stake before,”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, still defiant.
“There are no reports of stake deaths among us. We are vampyres, Bucky,” Steve
patiently clarified, the second half coming out sounding more like ‘peerays’
than ‘pires,’ though he was surprised he had to. “I shared my life energy with
you so you wouldn’t die. Now you are a vampyre like me. A stake will not kill
you unless it decapitates you somehow.”
Bucky shook his head and turned away from Steve, his balance seemed off with
the loss of his arm. His steps were clumsy, nothing like the sure-footed,
stealthy man that had entered the factory; his body leaned to one side, trying
to compensate for the missing weight of his left arm.
“May I please clean you up as I answer your questions, Bucky?” Steve lifted a
soft cloth, dipped in the cool water.
“Fuck off,” Bucky growled as he began to walk away from Steve, but with every
step he took, his body seemed to grow weaker.
Steve frowned, eyes filled with worry. “You’re too young, Bucky, to go far.
Please, trust me in this. I know how to take care of you.”
“What? By raping me? Is that what I am to you now? Some fucking sex toy?” Bucky
whirled around, stumbling to the side from the sudden movement.
Steve once again grabbed Bucky’s arm to rescue him from the machine. He sighed
and thrust the newborn Omega at the office chair. “Sit,” he blatantly ordered,
hating himself for using that Alpha control. The blond turned and began the
process of shutting down the machine and unhooking the large steam pipe that
fueled it so it wouldn’t inadvertently start again.
At the direct order, Bucky’s body and mind instantly listened, physically
unable to disobey his sire. The brunet hated the overall need to please the
blond, to listen, to be his good boy. The whole thing seemed off, so unnatural
to a man that had spent his whole life being in control of himself.
“Yes,” Steve said firmly, his voice almost, but not quite, neutral. “I did rape
you. It was the only way to give you the sudden flux of energy and life-seed
you needed. You were bleeding out quicker than I could replace your energy. It
was a matter of time, only.” He looked up. “I wouldn’t have preferred to rape
you at all, Bucky . . . or even convert you if I felt I had a choice.” He
lowered his sad, intense blue eyes back to the machinery.
“You did have a choice!” Bucky screamed, temper flaring again, “You could’ve
let me die!”
Turning away from the finally still loom, Steve stood, either unaware of or
completely comfortable with his own nudity. “You wanted to die, Buck?” he asked
directly. “You wanted me to kill you?”
“I didn’t want to die! But I’d rather be dead than stuck with you . . . having
no fucking control over myself!” Bucky snapped, fangs flashing, fist clenching
tightly.
Wincing at the repeat of the newborn’s hate, Steve sighed and moved back to the
sink beside the enraged vampyre. He grabbed the cloth and began to wash the
congealed mess from the brunet’s left side with gentle, strong hands. “Why did
you give in then? You could have defied me until the end and you wouldn’t have
converted. A vampyre can only convert the willing.”
Bucky hung his head, his long brunet hair clumped together with blood and
sweat. Hanging like a thick curtain, hiding his face from the other being. Why
had he submitted to Steve?
“Stand up, Buck,” the order came gently, almost a request but not quite.
Bucky listened, rising to his feet; he didn’t lift his head, not allowing
himself to look at the other vampyre.
Carefully, Steve gripped Bucky’s hips and picked him up to place him on the
edge of the desk, pushing his business papers aside. Dipping the cloth back in
the water, rinsing it then wringing it out, Steve began to wash Bucky’s nether
regions, careful and gentle. “It was because you didn’t want to die and you
knew, despite everything, that I was trying to save you, Bucky, isn’t it?”
Looking away, eyes still downcast, Bucky clenched his jaw and didn’t answer
Steve; although the blond was right, the brunet didn’t want to voice that
agreement. He was a disgrace to his family and fellow hunters; he’d allowed
himself to be turned, to become some object to be used.
Sighing, Steve continued to clean the younger vampyre. “I know it wasn’t
because you were pleased by the rape, so you can stop being embarrassed and
worried that you liked that. It was solely a choice of survival, and in the
end, most people choose survival. Just most humans don’t recognize it when a
vampyre offers it. You’re smarter than most. Instinctively smarter.”
Bucky still didn’t say anything, figuring ignoring his sire was the last bit of
defiance he had left.
Finally, having cleaned Bucky’s body, Steve pulled him carefully from the
wooden desk and carried him the few steps to the sink. He reached over and
snagged his chair to ease his burden into the leather seat. Steve leaned Bucky
backwards over the sink and began to wash his hair in the cool water. “Right
now you are over-sensitive due to being a newborn. Conversion heightens
everything. You will calm with time if you try, but you need to work on
control. If you don’t, you will stay a fiery jumble of raw nerves.” Steve’s
large hands were gentle as he worked the tangles and clumps from the newborn’s
oversensitized scalp.
It took everything in Bucky not to lean into that touch like a goddamned cat;
the newborn clutched the arm of the chair tightly and continued to stare up at
the ceiling, his eyes had returned to his light blue, ringed with gold.
“Since you are hyper-sensitive, you are vulnerable. I’ll stay close to protect
and guide you.” Steve offered softly, finishing with the wet silken strands,
letting them fall softly through his fingers one last time before sitting the
newborn up and reaching for his only towel.
“You gonna fuck me again, Cap? Order me around? Must be great, having a hunter
at your complete mercy, right?” Bucky snapped, tone bitter and harsh.
Drawing a deep intake of breath, Steve let it out slowly, keeping his patience
with effort. This hunter had been instructed very poorly by his owners.
Finally, Steve said, “Hydra taught you didn’t they?”
“Sure, after blood-suckers murdered my entire family, including my little
sister who was only three at the time . . . I had no one else,” Bucky growled,
looking up at Steve with hatred in his eyes.
“Blood-suckers . . .” Steve echoed, disgust tinging his voice. “Yes, they would
do something so evil.” With a shake of his head, Steve dried Bucky’s body then
wrapped his hair in the towel. “Well, you cannot go back to Hydra now. They
will certainly torture you.”
“Better for you, right? Keep me locked away? You finally won, Cap,” Bucky
sighed and closed his eyes. “I’d say congratulations are in order, right?”
“Why do you call me Cap?” Steve finally asked the question which had bothered
him for the last five years, not answering the newborn’s angry assumptions and
insults.
“Captain,” Bucky said with a simple shrug, not opening his eyes, “is the name
Hydra gave you.”
“They did?” the vampyre looked slightly intrigued. “Why? What do they think I
am a Captain of?”
“Don’t know . . . didn’t care, honestly, so I didn’t ask . . . more likely than
not they wouldn’t have explained it to me anyway,” Bucky supplied easily, “they
just told me to kill you, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do.”
“Why didn’t they train you to go after the blood-suckers who murdered your
family?” Steve challenged, waiting to see how Bucky would answer that. Steve
knew Hydra had lied to the brunet; the blond wanted to see how far the lies
went.
“They told me you and the Russian were responsible,” Bucky finally opened his
eyes, looking up at Steve, “they said you two murdered my family. I went after
Romanov after our last . . . encounter, but well,” Bucky looked down at his
left side and sighed, “you saw how that ended.”
Steve began washing himself quickly of Bucky’s last remaining human blood and
their combined dried semen. “And you still think that?” he asked carefully,
sounding almost detached. “That Romanov and I murdered your family?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think anymore, does it? You own me now, I don’t have
control over my mind or my body, so what does it matter what I think?” Bucky
sounded defeated, his normal cocky and sure attitude melting away.
“Own you? No, I don’t own anyone. I don’t believe in buying and selling people
like livestock, Bucky.” Steve shook his head and grabbed part of his torn shirt
from the floor to dry himself off. “And control will come as you mature and
learn. No newborn ever has control.” He then opened the closet and fished
inside for clothing for the pair of them.
“Just use them for you own sick pleasure, then?” Bucky looked back up at the
ceiling, pale eyes empty just like his tone.
“I could never have found pleasure in raping you if it wasn’t to ultimately
save you. And I could never have found release without the permission you gave,
Bucky,” Steve corrected gently.
Bucky looked over to Steve, eyes narrowed in an expression of hatred, “And what
now, Captain? What are you going to do with me now? Since I can’t leave you.”
“Of course you can, but it would be foolish,” Steve corrected in small
exasperation. “You’re too weak to make it on your own. You’d be killed before
sun-up. And my name is Steve. I’ve never been a captain of anything, ship or
army.”
“Steve,” Bucky repeated lifelessly, “Well, Steve, what happens to me now?”
Sighing, Steve walked back over to Bucky and knelt on the floor before the
chair. He began shimmying decadently soft underdrawers onto the man, pulling
them over one foot than the other before caressing them up the man’s calves. “I
am going to instruct you, protect you, care for you . . . and make sure the
other vampyres know you are no longer working for Hydra so you are no longer
our enemy.”
Bucky snorted, looking down at Steve, “your kind are going to want to rip the
rest of my limbs off.”
Chuckling in surprise, Steve looked up, so close to Bucky’s crotch but eyes
meeting the other vampyre’s instead. “Now why would they want to do that?”
“Shall I recount the last five years for you, Steve? I’ve killed a lot of your
friends. I’m sure they’ll all love it that I’m pretty much your bitch now,”
Bucky’s eyes returned to the ceiling.
“All of the friends of mine you killed won’t care one way or the other, since
they’re dead, aren’t they?” Steve shot back, but his tone sounded deceptively
light. “And you are not my bitch or sex toy. You are my newborn. I am your
sire. I will protect you from the idiots who don’t recall that a converted
vampyre is no longer an enemy.”
Bucky sighed and shook his head.
“Now, can you please, and this is not an order but a request, Buck, answer my
question? Do you still think I killed your parents and sister?” Steve used one
strong arm to hoist Bucky from the seat enough to slide the drawers over his
thighs and ass, the decadent softness teasing the newborn’s crotch. Steve
lowered him back to the leather seat.
Much to Bucky’s horror, an erotic mewl broke past his lips as the fabric
brushed over his sensitive skin. His eyes dilated, the pupils expanding as his
hips stuttered, attempting to rub his filling member against the soft fabric.
“Like that, Buck?” Steve breathed, smiling softly. “Everything will feel so
much better or worse now that you are a vampyre.”
His hunger for more energy, more contact, caused the newborn’s mind to go fuzzy
again.
Sensing the shift in awareness, in need, Steve pulled the other vampyre off the
chair, removing the drawers once more, and lay back on the floor, allowing
Bucky to stretch his length over the harder, larger muscled mass of the blond’s
body. “Go ahead, Buck, do it. You know you need to, baby.”
Bucky’s eyes flashed gold again, another moan escaping into the air as he
ground his hips down against Steve’s.
The older vampyre moved his legs, opening his thighs so the brunet could settle
between them. He kept his legs open and inviting. “You won’t hurt me. You were
born for me, Buck. Go ahead,” he coaxed, knowing that unlike a weak human,
they, as vampyres, could take a suddenly full passage with little to no
preparation from the right partner . . . and Bucky was Steve’s perfect partner
now, made in the dying and rebirthing of Bucky’s body and soul. He could
tolerate any brief pain his lover might inflict on him; he was prepared to feed
Bucky anyway the newborn wanted to try to share.
Shifting slightly so that his sire’s length was lined up with his entrance,
Bucky keened, an almost animalistic sound, as he lowered himself on the erect
member. The full feeling caused the brunet’s head to fall back and lips to part
in a soundless gasp, the fire in his veins dulling with the close contact of
the blond.
Feeling the full tightness, Steve let out a moan of pleasure, allowing his
newborn to set the pace, take what he needed. Steve kept his eyes fixed on
Bucky’s, his hands going to the brunet’s slender hips to guide him gently,
steady him as the brunet sat over and around Steve’s thick manhood. His
answering energy heated and called to Bucky’s, already leeching out and filling
the needy vampyre newborn. Of course, Bucky wouldn’t truly be satisfied until
Steve’s life-seed filled him yet again, and the Omega would need such energy
transfer and life-seed often these first weeks. But, Steve was beyond
explaining such difficult ideas at the moment, so he let Bucky explore instead.
Bucky lifted himself off Steve’s member until only the tip remained inside
before sinking back down, over and over again, the pleasure making the newborn
pick up the pace; needing harder, firmer contact to satisfy himself. “Stevie .
. .” Bucky mewled, a needy moan echoing throughout the room.
As he sensed the direction Bucky wanted to go with their loving, Steve
accommodated, gripping the brunet’s hips harder and thrusting up to meet Bucky
every time he slammed himself down, angling his hips enough to slide forcefully
over the other vampyre’s prostate with each thrust. “I’m right here, Bucky. I’m
here, Sweetheart. You know what you need. Go ahead and take it. Let me give it
to you.”
Bucky’s head fell back once more, his right hand moving down to wrap itself
around his own leaking member, the pleasure he felt at the touch almost making
him black out. Everything felt magnified by a hundred, every touch, every
caress; the stroke of Steve’s erection against his prostate threatened to
overwhelm the newborn.
“Good boy, Bucky baby. Go ahead, pleasure yourself. Show me what you want. Take
your energy from me, love. Harder, deeper, take everything I have to give.”
Steve bent up so he could fasten his lips over Bucky’s neck, sucking lightly,
barely grazing his teeth over the pulsepoint there but never making any move to
break the skin or take the energy that sang through his lover’s veins in place
of the blood that had dried to dust at conversion.
“Stevie . . . I’m - -” Bucky arched his back, bottoming Steve out.
“Don’t be afraid, love, go ahead. Give in to your release. It won’t hurt you, I
promise, baby,” Steve coaxed, his hands caressing at Bucky’s hips, no longer
guiding the other vampyre in his wild, needy thrusts. The big blond grunted
with every move Bucky made, feeling his own member thickening, his balls heavy
with the imminent orgasm building between them. “Tell me when to cum for you,
Sweetheart. Tell me when to fill you so full you leak my seed over both of us .
. .”
Moaning loud, mind completely gone with the intense pleasure, Bucky felt his
balls tighten and, with his impending orgasm, the brunet clenched his muscles
around Steve’s shaft and groaned, “now, Stevie . . .” That was all the warning
Bucky gave before he saw white and came hard, his load painting Steve’s chest
as he rode the intense wave of pleasure.
On command, willingly, Steve let himself tumble over the edge, his great rod
pumping load after hot load into the lean brunet, coating his lover’s walls and
overflowing, filling him, promising to leak out once he was no longer stuffed
so full of raging manhood. Steve let out a shout of triumphant pleasure at the
release, letting his teeth just break the surface of Bucky’s neck but lapping
at the rapidly healing wound rather than taking anything from him. The hot
ropes of cum across his chest and abdomen filled Steve with a fiery heat all
it’s own, unique to Bucky, sharing the brunet’s energy and life-seed as well.
Still cumming hard, Steve dipped his fingers in Bucky’s semen and licked his
fingers, grinning wolfishly up at his lover. “Mine, Bucky . . .” he purred.
Instantly, almost as if the response was programmed into him, Bucky nodded and
breathed, “yours, Steve . . . all yours.”
Humming in approval, Steve offered breathlessly, as he lapped another scoop of
cum from his questing fingers, “and I am all your’s, love. Forever and always.
To the end of time’s long line . . .” He felt himself finally grow semi-
flaccid, spent for the time being inside his newborn lover.
***** Of Newborns and Pups *****
The fire in his veins settled down for the time being, and the needy cloud
cleared once more; Bucky blinked a few times. “What . . .” the brunet pulled
off of Steve; just as Steve had promised cum leaked out of his passage from the
full load. He fell back on the floor, hugging his knees with his one arm as he
rocked back and forth. “What did you do to me? Why am I acting like a bitch in
heat?” He looked over at Steve with wide, fearful eyes.
Sighing, Steve reached up his clean, drier hand and stroked the hair out of the
frightened newborn’s face. He knew, suddenly, that Hydra had not only twisted
the truth with bitter lies but had left out some very serious parts of vampyre
culture when they had instructed Bucky. “Do you want answers or to keep blaming
me for this?”
Bucky whimpered; he curled up tighter into himself, “what’s happening to me?”
Stroking the brunet’s damp hair from his face, Steve patiently explained, “you
are a vampyre newborn. You crave energy and life-seed to fulfill your own
deficit. It takes a lot of energy to convert or to be reborn. You will be this
way for a few weeks, Buck. You need energy every couple hours, like any other
newborn. Ever had a puppy or kitten? It’s the same thing. As you get older and
stronger, which happens quickly for a vampyre, you become less dependant on
your sire.” He stroked the damp tendrils again, pausing to give Bucky a chance
to absorb and question before delving into the more terrifying answer the other
vampyre sought.
Fingers tightening on his thigh, Bucky continued to look at Steve with wide
eyes; for the first time in years, he was terrified: something was happening to
his body that he had no control over.
Pulling Bucky into his strong arms, Steve nodded and kissed the brunet’s neck,
beard rasping over the sweat-damp skin leaving a red mark behind. “It’s okay,
Buck, calm down. This will ease off in time and you’ll stop craving sex as
often. I promise.” He slid a gentle finger under Bucky’s chin and lifted it.
“But there’s so much you don’t know about vampyres. Your lessons from Hydra
were all wrong, baby.”
Without even thinking, Bucky curled up into Steve’s arms, pressing his body
firmly against the blond’s. “Yeah . . . they forgot to mention that newborns
are horny as fuck,” the brunet grumbled.
“Well, there are really two kinds of newborns, Buck. Those made by blood-
suckers, who are hungry for blood and sex, and those made by vampyres, get
horny for energy.” Steve stroked gentle fingers down Bucky’s spine, vertebra by
vertebra.
“But . . . aren’t vampyres blood-suckers? Aren’t they the same thing?” Bucky
asked, tone confused.
“Not at all, Bucky baby,” Steve gently said. “Vampyres don’t suck blood. We
can’t use it so why bother? We have no blood. When your blood turned to dust,
you heart stopped pumping it. You now pump sheer life energy. Blood-suckers, or
vampires, crave and use blood, so they suck it and store it in their foul,
unbeating hearts. They are undead corpses, Buck. We are reborn.”
Bucky shook his head, tucking it further into Steve’s chest; he felt vulnerable
and confused. If what Steve said was true, everything he’d been raised on was a
lie. Softly, changing the subject, he asked, “am I yours, now, Steve?”
There it was: the question of all questions that frightened newborns most. Not
a matter of ownership, though those words made more sense to newly converted;
it was a matter of eventual mates or lovers at the least. Slowly, carefully,
Steve nodded. “Yes, Buck. And I am yours.”
Steve drew a breath. “Humans reproduce with sex, right? They have infants they
raise. Well, vampyres are also able to have infants to raise, though it’s a bit
rarer. When a newborn converts, he or she becomes what we refer to as an Omega,
what humans blindly, stupidly call females. But as you can tell, your gender
hasn’t changed, merely adjusted. Your sire is your Alpha, or what humans call
the male. Until you are older and have no need of a sire, or your sire is
killed, you will be an Omega, able to bear pups, what humans call children.
Once I am no longer in your life, for whatever reason, you will be an Alpha,
and any newborn you create will be your Omega. You will not longer bear pups
but will be able to create them with your Omega.”
Steve waited, hoping he’d made sense without terrifying the newborn. A male
newborn especially had trouble accepting the possibility of bearing a pup, no
matter how obscure it might be in some vampyre clans. Steve’s clan, sadly
enough, consisted of fewer than twenty members; often their very conversion was
brutal, though brutality wasn’t required, and thus mating often became anathema
to his clan members after the initial newborn lust wore off. And newborns very
rarely if ever got pregnant - - though it had happened when Steve had first
been converted.
“I - - I can . . .” Bucky stammered, unable to wrap his mind around the fact
that he could now have children. Hydra never said anything about vampyre
newborns becoming fertile . . . just that the species as a whole needed to be
eradicated to save the human race.
“I have much to teach you, my love,” Steve whispered, caressing Bucky’s back
again.
Bucky tucked his head under Steve's chin, his body craving the comforting
embrace of his sire, regardless of personal thoughts of the blond vampyre.
Looking down at his left side again, the brunet sighed, “I'm useless. Damaged.”
“When you are a fledgling, love, I can give you a new arm. As a newborn you are
too sensitive, too confused, to try to work with one.” Steve stroked his
lover’s face, his other hand settled at the small of Bucky’s back. “But you are
never useless, Buck.”
Pulling his legs closer to his body, weight fully pressing into Steve’s chest,
the brunet nestled into Steve’s neck, “where are we gonna go? I’m pretty much a
wanted . . .” Bucky struggled, was he still a man?
“You’re still a man, Buck, just not a human,” Steve filled in the blank easily,
not even needing to read his newborn’s mind for that obvious question.
Nodding, Bucky sighed, “regardless of what I am . . . Hydra will be looking for
me and your - - our kind hasn’t stopped looking for me for five years. I highly
doubt they will be too pleased that I am one of them now.”
Stroking Bucky’s hair, the blond knew that soon the emotions would surge once
more, the fear overwhelmed by the burnet’s normal anger and resentment,
followed by the driving sexual desire. Steve sighed. “I doubt I’ll have a place
here after the destruction, so we’ll need to move on.” The blond shifted so he
could cuddle Bucky closer. He’d have to get them dressed and moved after the
next feeding. “As you might have guessed, unless in a protected place or
safehouse, vampyres often are on the move. We’re forced by everyone else to
keep finding new hiding places. But I have a house I can bring you to. I
haven’t lived in it since before you started hunting, so it’s unknown for now.”
“What about my home . . . my things - - God, Hydra will tear through
everything.” Bucky shook his head, “they’ll interrogate Pietro.”
Mildly curious, knowing that Bucky’s old life would need to be dealt with
quickly to transition him to the new life, Steve asked, “is Pietro your lover?
I’m sure I can find a safer location for him, but I don’t know if he’ll take
help from me.”
Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes, “Pietro and I aren’t lovers, Steve. He’s my
roommate - - a fellow hunter. His twin sister was killed a few years ago . . .
I took him in. More like my kid brother than anything. And you’re right, he
wouldn’t want help from either one of us.”
Nodding, Steve slid his hand leisurely over Bucky’s hip, from his back to his
front, then lazily began to caress the brunet’s strong abdomen. He knew Bucky’s
next feeding was coming due quickly, the first few always did, though Bucky’s
seemed to come quicker than Steve expected. Hopefully the one after this would
take a bit longer to arrive: enough time to allow Steve to get them to his
house safely. He would have to deal with Bucky’s old home and Pietro in a day
or two, when Bucky wasn’t so needy.
A low purring noise broke past Bucky’s lips, his eyes closing and back arching
into the touch. Steve’s caress made his veins burn and body begin to vibrate
with the lustful need for his sire.
“Ready, Bucky?” Steve cooed softly, “hungry again?” His own body reacted with
renewed desire to Bucky’s increased lust.
Turning his head to lick and nip at Steve’s neck, sharp fangs scraping against
the blond’s cold skin, Bucky keened, his right arm snaking around the older
vampyre’s waist. “Steve . . .” Bucky moaned, eyes flashing gold again as his
primal desires clouded his normally sharp mind.
“I’ve got you, Buck,” Steve cooed and shifted the other male on his lap. “You
take what you need, baby.”
Growling low, almost possessively, Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s as he
lowered himself down onto the blond’s erection once more. The brunet’s tongue
darted into his sire’s mouth, his arm rising to wrap tightly around Steve’s
neck to steady himself as he began to grind his hips.
Panting and grunting at the glorious feeling of Bucky encircling him and riding
him, Steve moved his hands to once more grip his newborn lover’s hips. He
thrust up to meet the other vampyre’s thrusts, filling him over and over,
striking his prostate with each stroke. “That’s good, Sweetheart. You are doing
so good. Take my energy and grow strong, baby doll.” He breathed into Bucky’s
mouth, returning the kisses and explorations between his lustfully encouraging
words.
Bucky keened, his head falling to rest on Steve’s shoulder as he continued his
desperate thrusts, his body completely taking control over his mind, his need
to serve and love his sire, submit to Steve, overpowering any negative thoughts
he had of the blond. None of that mattered in this moment; it was as if the
last five years of tirelessly searching and hunting Steve never happened.
Feeling his rapidly building approach to orgasm, Steve was surprised. That
would mean Bucky was getting close as well. He groaned as the base of his
manhood swelled in an Alpha’s knot. With a feral growl, Steve flipped the pair
over and thrust wildly, forcing the knot into his lover’s passage, the swelling
completing and locking them in place as hot jets of cum once more filled Bucky.
Steve keened his release, mind almost blanking at the impossible connection:
Alphas never knotted newborn Omegas; it was unheard of . . . except . . . in a
far off, long ago memory of his own haze-filled newborn days, but that quickly
fell away as Steve continued to fill his lover with life-giving seed.
“Alpha . . .” Bucky whimpered, Steve’s release once again clearing his fiery
veins. However, unlike the last two times, the brunet wasn’t hit with a feeling
of anger or mortification as his mind came back under his control; instead he
pushed back into Steve’s body, that firm knot pushing deeper. “Alpha . . . ‘m
yours,” the words were spoken in clarity, not under the guise of a ravishing
hunger. Something about the words felt right, like they were meant for Bucky to
say to Steve.
“My sweet Omega,” Steve purred into Bucky’s ear, still rocking his hips, still
driving his knot deep into Bucky. He could feel the endless cum streaming out
of him and into his lover, his mate. Later he would have to puzzle through the
implications of such an unheard of union, but at that moment Steve wanted to
stay joined with this man forever, loving him and protecting him. He
instinctively wanted to fill this Omega with his pups and draw his family
around him like a warm, loving blanket. “My Bucky,” he purred and sank his
teeth into the jointure of Bucky’s neck and shoulder, breaking the skin though
there would be no blood release. Pheromones and life energy filled his mouth.
Bucky’s body went completely lax, for the first time, fully submitting to his
Alpha. The bite wasn’t painful like one would expect, the feeling of Steve’s
teeth sinking into his flesh causing a pulsing pleasure, a sense of belonging,
throughout his entire body. “My Alpha . . .” Bucky keened.
“Your Alpha, my Omega,” Steve confirmed, tone satisfied, possessive.
Twenty long, gloriously highly sensitized minutes ticked by before Steve’s knot
released and he fell from Bucky’s overfull passage, dragging cum and slick with
him, a substance only produced in older mating Omega youths, not newborns or
even fledglings. Steve didn’t take the time to question such an odd occurrence;
that had not happened to even him during his odd newborn stage. “My love . . .”
Whimpering at the loss of fullness, Bucky turned his head, his pale blue eyes
half taken over by a fiery gold. Looking at his mate, the brunet noted the
golden fire color of Steve’s eyes. “Feels good, Stevie.”
A sudden sense of urgency filled the satiated vampyre and he growled softly,
lifting his head, looking towards the firmly locked door of his office-
workshop. Carefully, he stood, Bucky in his arms, and carried his mate to the
desk, where he set the man down gingerly on the hard wooden surface. “We must
leave. Someone’s here looking for you, I believe. Were you supposed to check in
with someone?” The blond hurriedly began pulling out random items of clothing,
not caring for style or color. He pulled a shirt over Bucky’s head and fastened
a waistcoat around him then pulled those decadently soft drawers back over the
man’s feet, preparing to lift him to pull the cloth protectively over his
crotch and ass.
Bucky shook his head, “no . . . if I don’t check in for a week . . . that’s
when they start lookin’.”
Steve nodded and shimmied the soft drawers then a pair of trousers up over
Bucky’s limbs, fastening a belt around the brunet’s lean hips as he continued
to hurriedly dress his newborn in slightly over-sized clothing. “And when was
the last time you checked in?”
“Yesterday,” Bucky answered, “Pierce told me where you were hiding.” The soft
clothing brushed against his sensitive skin and the newborn whimpered at the
tingling sensation that thrummed throughout his body. Bucky grabbed the empty
sleeve between his fingers and caressed the fabric, “soft . . .”
With a smile, Steve nodded, almost absently. “Of course. It’s angora.” He
quickly threw clothes on himself without verifying that they matched then
scooped up his mate once more. Glancing around the room, Steve made sure that
no personal items remained, though he hadn’t truly stored any there yet. He’d
only moved in very recently so hadn’t had time to transfer his personal items.
Satisfied, The Vampire jumped, surging easily onto the catwalk in order to
leave the locked door as a barrier between whoever had come into the factory
and the discovery of Bucky’s mangled arm in the private loom.
Bucky nestled into Steve’s neck, lips brushing against his mate’s skin; the
brunet wrapped his arm around the blond’s neck. “Smell good, Steve,” Bucky
muttered, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder. The knotting had seemed to make
the brunet compliant, his usual anger completely gone. Bucky breathed in
deeply, nose brushing against Steve’s neck.
Glancing over the edge of the catwalk, following the stealthy movements of the
human hunter below, Steve curled his lip back. He should be in private,
nurturing his newborn, not running from this clumsy potential threat. Bucky was
in no condition to even sense the evil that could befall him in his fragile
state. Steve had to remind himself that he hadn’t planned on creating a newborn
at all so, of course, would not have been in an ideal setting. He was too
distracted with the overwhelming urge to protect and defend to puzzle through
Bucky’s sudden change in emotions.
“Hold me tight, Sweetheart,” Steve whispered in Bucky’s ear. He ran lightly,
almost silently, down the grated metal catwalk, making it to the far end before
the human was even aware of his location. Once there, Steve had to shift his
lover in his arms so that he could free a hand to unfasten a window. Another
snarl curled his lip, this at the inevitable, weakening dawn that inched it’s
colorful way over the horizon.
“Smell somethin’ bad, Steve,” Bucky murmured, he lifted his head to look over
the blond’s shoulder. Pale eyes scanned the warehouse as the offensive scent
made the newborn’s nose scrunch in disgust.
“Tell me what you smell, Buck,” Steve said, contemplating, trying to think
quickly how to shield the weak newborn from the dawn. The sun wouldn’t kill
Bucky, but it would weaken him further than they could afford, even sickening
the energy-starved brunet.
“Bitter,” Bucky answered, “sour . . . don’t like it.”
“From the human below?” Steve questioned, turning his eyes on the man he held.
An Omega’s sense of smell was one of its biggest defenses but often dulled back
to a normal level upon reaching Alpha nature.
Bucky nodded, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder again.
“Is it someone you know? Or is the smell something it carries?” Steve looked
back to the window and made his decision. He precariously held Bucky in one
strong arm as the blond shimmied out of his own shirt, ripping the sleeve seams
for ease. He would have to replace his entire wardrobe in a few weeks at this
pace. Throwing the dark blue material over Bucky’s over-sensitive eyes and
face, Steve once more held him securely then stepped into the lightening
morning, hissing as he began to feel his own vast energy draining.
“Haven’t smelt it before, Steve,” Bucky’s voice was slightly muffled by the
fabric, but he didn’t make any movements to shift the protective layer.
“Could it be a weapon, love,” Steve’s voice sounded fainter, weaker. “Or does
it smell natural?” His own nose was overwhelmed with the sweet scent of his
newborn Omega, something he hadn’t heard of happening to an Alpha sire, so the
blond had to uncharacteristically rely on the other vampyre’s senses. Normally,
even his own Alpha olfactory would have picked up the nuances between
artificial and natural scents.
“Not a weapon . . . but not natural, either. Something - - something else,”
Bucky informed.
Suddenly, something clicked and Steve’s eyes rounded in horror. “Could it be a
blood-sucker, Buck?”
The newborn’s body tensed, arm wrapping tighter around Steve’s neck as Bucky
confirmed, “yeah. Blood-sucker,” the hunter in the brunet wanted to turn back
and kill the abomination, but his limbs still felt as if they were made of
lead.
Carefully, Steve walked down the metal outside stairwell, something called a
fire-escape, though it wasn’t a fashionable thing to have on a business. “Then
it came here hunting you, Bucky. It will be distracted by the smell of your arm
in the loom. We have some small grace in which to escape.” Steve needed to get
them into safety soon. In their weakened state, in the draining light, around
crowds of humans . . . they would be truly in danger.
“Can walk, Stevie . . .” Bucky murmured, still not used to being so weak, so
vulnerable. The brunet could sense his alpha’s weakened state.
“You think you can, but the moment I lift your veil, my love, you will lose all
strength. Best to let me carry you,” Steve informed his newborn patiently. “Sun
doesn’t kill us, but the ultraviolet light weakens us, drains our energy. A
newborn is too fragile to be in sunlight long. I would need the help of a
safehouse to bring you back to strength if we stay in this light too long.”
Bucky didn’t answer Steve, just tucked his head against the blond’s broad
chest.
“Keep your hand buried in my clothing, Bucky. It will aid in keeping the sun
from leeching your energy. We will be indoors in a moment. There is a Wilson
clan member who lives two more doors down. He will shelter us for the day.”
Steve was not above using his Alpha domination to keep his newborn safe.
Following the direct order immediately, Bucky tucked his hand under the collar
of Steve’s shirt; softly he mumbled, “soft, Steve.”
“Yes, it’s angora,” Steve reminded the man in his arms, smiling despite his own
weakness. He arrived at the Wilson house, knowing there would be someone home,
and kicked rudely at the door.
A few moments passed before the door swung open and Sam Wilson stood in front
of the two vampyres; he shielded his eyes against the morning sun, “Steve? What
are you doing?”
Without a word, Steve hefted Bucky higher with a soft moan and pushed in past
the other vampyre. He got as far from the door as he could in the hall,
breathing slowly and sinking to the floor with his precious bundle. “Was
attacked at the factory. There’s a blood-sucker there. This is my newborn.” The
explanation was disjointed and unintentionally misleading, but Steve needed to
regain his own energy before he could coherently explain things to his friend.
Shutting the door, Sam turned to look at his old friend, the identity of the
newborn was hidden from the dark-skinned man, a torn shirt draped over his
face. “Finally turned someone, huh?”
“I had to,” Steve looked up, holding his precious Omega closer. “He would have
died and it was my fault. I accidentally pushed him into the loom.” Just the
darkness and the soothing nearness of the other vampyre leant strength to
Steve. As long as he rested, he might not even be required to feed. He hoped
Bucky’s hunger would remained satiated for longer than a half hour or so since
the unusual, and troubling, knotting.
Sam knelt down, a small smile on his face; he looked at Steve, “you can uncover
him now. All the windows are covered, no sunlight.”
“He’s only fed three times, Sam. His second feeding was interrupted by clarity
and hate. He’s still weak as a kitten.” Steve held his newborn carefully,
close, but reached up and gently slipped the protective material off the man’s
head.
“Not a kitten,” Bucky grumbled defiantly, head still tucked firmly under
Steve’s chin.
Sam shot up and took a step back, “Steve! That’s - -” the darker vampyre’s eyes
flashed and Sam snarled, baring his sharp fangs at one of the most hated
enemies of the vampyre species.
“The ‘Winter Soldier,’ I know,” Steve sighed. “I meant only to incapacitate
him, but I threw him into the loom. It took his arm and nearly his life.” The
blond shook his head. “I couldn’t kill him, Sam.”
Bucky, sensing the negative tension in the air, whimpered and nestled further
into Steve’s arms, he was practically unaware of Sam’s presence.
“Shh, my love, I am here. I will keep you safe. Sam won’t hurt another vampyre,
love,” Steve soothed automatically, watching his longtime friend.
“Steve . . . he’s killed members of my clan . . . your clan,” Sam stated, eying
the newborn with distrust and wariness.
“I know,” Steve said, softly. “But, Sam, now he is my clan.”
“And how long do you intend to keep him hidden? You know other vampyres will
not hesitate to kill him, regardless if he’s one of us or not.” Sam shook his
head.
“While he’s a newborn, I’ll hide him, Sam. Once he’s a fledgeling, I’ll take
him to a safehouse and ask for help informing the clans of his vampyre nature.
They cannot touch him if they respect our culture, our very fundamental
beliefs.”
“You turned a hunter,” Sam muttered, disbelief in his tone, “I’m surprised he
submitted to you. I woulda thought the infamous ‘Winter Soldier’ would have
rather died.”
“He nearly did, but in the end, Bucky relented and I was able to save him. His
instincts are true, Sam. And now he will be a strong vampyre, in the Rogers
clan. He’ll grow strong and be able to become a protector of our people. Would
you like that, my Bucky? To protect your new people from hunters and blood-
suckers?” Steve practically cooed without even realizing how his entire
mannerism turned not into a protective sire but a loving mate when he spoke to
the newborn.
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he knelt back down, his eyes catching something beneath
the newborn’s collar. Reaching out, Sam pulled down the fabric and his eyes
widened at the sight of a silver bite-mark scarred into Bucky’s flesh, “you
mated him? You mated a newborn, Steve?”
Flushing brightly, Steve dropped his gold-lit eyes in embarrassment. “Yeah. I
don’t know how it happened. I was feeding him then knotted. I didn’t expect it
. . .”
“You do realize the impact this will have on his growth, right?” Sam asked;
Bucky turned away from the dark-skinned vampyre, whimpering again, trying to
pull away from the other Alpha’s touch. Sam let the fabric go and shook his
head again.
Steve lifted his eyes once more and shook his head. “Not really, Sam. I may be
centuries old and a leader in my clan, but I’ve never heard of a newborn
knotting except for my own sire’s - - and I got pregnant.” Steve reached over
and instinctively started petting Bucky’s hair, tangling his fingers in the
soft tresses. “It’s another reason I plan to take him to a safehouse after he’s
done his newborn phase. I need help understanding how to help him.”
“I don’t know much . . . but from what I’ve read . . . mating a newborn can
stunt their growth. He may never get stronger than a fledgling,” Sam looked
back to meet Steve’s eyes.
Misery welled in the golden flames and Steve groaned. “I never intended to hurt
my Bucky, Sam. I was feeding him and it just happened.” He shook his head and
buried his face in the Omega newborn’s sweet neck, making Bucky keen softly at
the attention of his mate.
“You have to take him to Nat, she’ll know more,” Sam sighed and stood back up,
“you two can stay here for a few days but as soon as he’s strong enough I want
him out. He may be your mate, Steve, but he’s still responsible for so many
deaths of our kind.”
“I plan to take him to my house at full dark, Sam,” Steve assured the other
vampyre. “Thank you for sheltering us.”
“Alpha . . .” Bucky keened, he could feel an odd moisture between his legs, his
body aching with need.
“I need a private room, Sam, please? I think he needs feeding again.” Steve
pushed himself slowly from the hall floor, still weak but determined to care
for his newborn properly. “He’s needed feeding every half hour. I thought it
was supposed to be every two hours,” Steve worried.
Tilting his head to study the rutting Omega, Sam looked mildly surprised, he
could smell the over-sweet scent that Bucky emitted, “every half hour?”
Nodding, Steve confirmed the unusual schedule. “Yeah. Could it be because his
arm was ripped off? I’d never heard of that being a reason for needing extra
feedings, but, I’ve never had a newborn, either.”
“No, a missing limb wouldn’t have anything to do with his feeding . . . the
only thing I could think of - -” Sam shook his head, “but that can’t be
possible.”
“What?” Steve asked, almost desperately, looking around for a private room he
could tend his newborn. If they waited too long, he’d have to feed him on Sam’s
front hall floor.
“Here, follow me, I’ll explain on the way,” Sam offered, gesturing to the large
staircase.
Nodding, Steve followed as obediently as a newborn himself, trusting his
longtime friend.
“You’d have to talk to Natasha . . . but - -” Sam’s eyes flickered to look at
Bucky, who keened and whimpered in Steve’s arms, “the mating. His
insatiability. It almost sounds like a mature Omega in heat.”
“You mean, when he’s no longer a youth, he’ll stay an Omega?” Steve blinked in
surprise.
“It hasn’t happened for centuries, there isn’t a mature Omega alive today,” Sam
said.
“Sam,” Steve asked hesitantly, “isn’t there some kind of old prophecy about a
rise in mature Omegas?”
“You mean that old wive’s tale that the elders always told fledglings?” Sam
looked at Steve as he stopped in front a door.
Nodding, Steve leaned down and began to kiss Bucky’s neck, still balancing him
in his arms as he walked with Sam, slow in his own sun-weakness. When they
stopped, Steve lifted his face and sighed. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later about
it. Thanks, Sam.” The blond unceremoniously carried his newborn into the safety
of the bedroom, letting the door swing shut behind him unheeded.
“Alpha . . . Alpha, please,” Bucky pleaded on a needy keen, those soft drawers
were already soaked through with slick.
“Strip down now, love, I will feed you.” Steve placed the newborn on the bed
and stepped back to remove his own shoes and trousers. Taking the few moments
of lucidity he’d had during the mundane task, Steve tried to dredge up as much
as he could of the old information about mature Omega conversions. If Bucky
truly was going to present as a mature Omega, he would be forever in need of
protection. Omegas were often weak and unable to fend for themselves, weren’t
they? But was that because Omegas were un-mature? Or were grown Omegas also
weak?
Listening to his sire with perfect obedience, Bucky struggled to remove his
clothing with only one arm. The buttons on his shirt took long enough to make
the newborn growl in frustration and the belt wrapped around his waist was damn
near impossible.
Steve knelt then reached up and aided Bucky, flushing at the fact that he had
forgotten the newborn wouldn’t be used to working one-armed. “My precious love,
I am sorry for making you frustrated. You’re such a good Omega, trying to do
what I command. Let me make it up to you? Take all you need, let me give you
strength.” Steve slipped, nude, onto the bed beside his mate.
Slick ran down Bucky’s thighs, and he let out an animalistic growl as he
wrapped his arm around Steve’s neck again, crashing their lips together. The
brunet bit down on his Alpha’s bottom lip, tugging slightly. “I’ll be good for
you, Alpha.”
With a soft whimper of rising need, Steve flicked his tongue out to trace
Bucky’s lips then teeth, letting his tongue glide over the sharp points of the
newborn’s fangs. “You are always good for me, Omega.” He moved his hands down,
caressingly, over Bucky’s strong body, feeling the plains and curves of the
newborn under his own calloused flesh.
“Fill me, Alpha, please?” Bucky whimpered, rutting his hips against Steve’s
groin.
“Always, Bucky,” Steve agreed willingly. He gripped his own large erection and
nuzzled between Bucky’s thighs, leaning on his arms to support his greater
weight over the leaner man. Nudging open Bucky’s thighs wider, Steve slid
himself into his lover on a sigh, loving how he fit just right in that tight
heat, eased surprisingly by the unexpected slick. The slippery lubricant seemed
filled with endorphins as it made the thrusting strokes more erotic, lighting
Steve’s flesh in fiery desire. “God, yes, Bucky . . .” he breathed against his
mate's mouth. “You are perfect . . .”
Bucky’s eyes rolled back, head falling against the pillow as his easily found
Steve’s rhythm. Meeting the Alpha’s thrusts, Bucky pushed the member in as deep
as it could go with his own hips.
Taking the unspoken hint, the need, Steve drove faster, harder, pounding into
his newborn with a fierceness the other man craved. He bottomed out with each
stroke, pulling all the way out before slamming fully back in, using his hand
to guide himself so he made his mark every time. The blond canted himself just
enough to slide roughly over the brunet’s prostate with each dangerously rough
thrust.
“Yes, Alpha, yes . . . ‘m yours. Make me yours, Alpha,” Bucky moaned, his skin
felt like it was on fire, his core craved his Alpha in every sense.
Without conscious thought, Steve rumbled low, nipping at Bucky’s new scar. “Do
you want my knot, Omega? Beg me. Tell me what you want.”
“I need your knot, Alpha, please? Please? Fill me - -” Bucky gasped, too far
gone to even care about the inability to disobey Steve’s direct orders, to be
subjected to begging for Steve’s knot.
“Do you want me to overfill your pretty ass, my love?” Steve continued to
pound, feeling the base of his member begin its swelling, knowing that soon the
thrusts would change as he forced and locked his knot inside Bucky.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Bucky keened, “I wanna feel your knot stretch me, Alpha,
please? Make me yours.”
Complying with the demand, Steve thrust his growing knot past the ring of
muscle, bottoming out and locking in place as the bulge of flesh prevented him
from withdrawing from Bucky’s tight passage. He keened then growled low, chest
rumbling, as his dominant Alpha musk washed over them, wrapping around and
covering Bucky in his scent. “Cum for me, my love,” he growled as he nipped
Bucky’s mating mark.
Bucky shouted as he came, back arching as he painted both their chests with his
large load.
Feeling his energy renew rather than drain as Bucky orgasmed, Seve lapped at
his lover’s neck, falling into a satisfied purring vibration, his entire body
picking up the near hum right into his thick member releasing his own life-seed
deep inside his lover.
“‘M good, Alpha. ‘M yours . . .” Bucky murmured a contented sigh as his hunger
heat dissipated, letting the newborn think clearly.
“Always, Bucky. You’ll always be mine, my love.” Steve reassured the smaller
man below him, still supporting most of his own weight on his forearms so as
not to crush the newborn.
“Always yours,” Bucky repeated, hand moving to run down Steve’s spine.
Smiling at his enthusiastic mate, Steve murmured, “you are permitted sleep
between feedings, you know, Bucky.” He kissed the man deeply, letting his
tongue caress inside him. Pulling back slightly, careful to keep his hips still
so his knot didn’t shift too much, though all movement was impossible to deny
as he wanted to feel that tightness squeezing him, Steve said, “if you’re
tired.”
Blinking a few times, Bucky looked around and frowned, “where are we, Steve?”
He couldn’t remember much after Steve had covered his face with that shirt.
“This is the house of one of the Wilson Clan. Sam is a longtime friend of mine,
but he’s worried about you being here. Your record of death has hit this Clan
hard, love.” Steve kissed Bucky’s cheek then his neck, softly.
“Wilson . . .” Bucky looked around again, the brunet’s brows furrowed trying to
recall the name.
“The clan that flies,” Steve clarified.
A quick remorseful expression crossed the Omega’s face.
“Most of the clans have felt your touch, Bucky. But none harder than Wilson or
Rogers.” Steve kissed Bucky’s shoulder, the one that ended so abruptly.
Bucky tried to pull away from Steve, but yelped as the Alpha’s knot tugged
painfully at his tight entrance.
Groaning at the friction over his sensitive knot, Steve panted, “it’s called a
knot, Bucky. It locks mates together during sex so the Omega can accept all the
Alpha’s seed. It doesn’t normally happen with newborns, but it happened with
us.”
The brunet whimpered and much to his surprise, his eyes welled with tears as he
struggled against his mate, the large knot continuing to pull at his opening
making his passage burn and ache.
“My god, Bucky, stop moving, please!” Steve shifted his weight so he could
envelope Bucky and twist them to lying down facing each other, no longer having
to support his crushing weight over the smaller man. “It won’t go down for
about twenty minutes or so and you risk tearing yourself by pulling it out too
soon.” He knew Bucky would be compelled to obey, but the please was often
enough to relieve a statement of the command and make it a request.
The Omega continued to pull and push, he shook his head wildly and clawed at
Steve’s chest. His movements were erratic, panicked, almost like a cornered
animal trying to find a way out.
Grasping the man’s single hand, Steve desperately tried to break whatever
negative emotion gripped the former hunter. “Please, Buck. I have no control of
how long it stays locked. Your moving hurts you but excites me. It could be
preventing my own member growing flaccid enough if you continue to stimulate
me.” Steve touched his forehead to Bucky’s, trying to capture his eyes, “Please
don’t make me compel you, love?”
Bucky lifted his tear-washed eyes, “I - - I don’t belong anywhere anymore . .
.”
“You belong with me, Bucky,” Steve tried to reassure him. “I will help you grow
strong and protect you until you can protect yourself. Please,” Steve moved his
mouth to kiss lightly at the brunet’s lips, “let me care for you, please? You
belong here, among your people.”
Bucky let out a bitter laugh, “my people? All of my people would prefer me dead
over being one of them.”
“That is not their choice to make. Our laws, our beliefs, prevent them harming
you unless you go rogue.” Steve lifted one hand to stroke Bucky’s hair out of
his eyes, his other holding Bucky’s right hand tightly, but not painfully.
“I’m sure there are exceptions . . . me being one of them,” Bucky mumbled, he
felt defeated. Softly, in a near whisper, the Omega admitted pitifully, “I
don’t wanna die, Steve.”
By then Steve’s knot began to deflate. As soon as it was small enough to safely
do so, he pulled himself from Bucky rather than letting his member fall
naturally out. HIs movement dragged him over the other man’s prostate one last
time and pulled slick and seed with his exit. The blond sat up with a frown.
“I’ve got to talk to Sam about your safety, Buck. I’ll be in with him when you
need me next. If you have need of me, you will be able to find me.” He reached
over and tugged on his trousers, knowing the newborn didn’t want his sire’s
attempts to clean him yet again that day.
“Yeah,” Bucky grumbled as he turned his back to the Alpha, the newborn stared
at the blacked-out windows.
Steve left with a sigh, closing the door softly and walking down the steps to
find his longtime friend. By rights, after his night and his draining bout in
the sun, even more feeding should have knocked them both into a sound sleep.
However, Steve felt rejuvenated instead. He didn’t understand this entire
twist, and he feared for Bucky’s health if the accidental mating truly did keep
Bucky from growing properly. “Sam?”
Sam sat in the large library down the hall, “yeah, Steve?” The dark-skinned man
had a book open and a falcon, Redwing, sat perched on the vamprye’s shoulder,
watching the room through beady eyes.
Practically vibrating with his renewed energy, Steve stepped in with a sigh.
“Hey, can we talk about Bucky?”
“Oh, you mean the hunter that’s sleeping just a few doors down?” Sam asked,
looking up from his book to meet Steve’s eyes, “yeah, let’s talk about him.”
“Yeah, that one,” Steve slipped into the chair across from his friend, reaching
out a finger to gently stroke the falcon's head. “Heya, Redwing,” he said, as
softly as he’d talked to Bucky earlier.
Squawking pleasantly, Redwing ruffled his feathers and leaned into Steve’s
touch before settling back down.
“You seem rather chipper for a vampyre that just walked a few miles in the
sun,” Sam observed with a raised brow.
“I feel full of energy, and I don’t understand,” Steve confirmed. “I’m not sure
of anything at the moment, actually. Things have gone the exact opposite of
what I expect or what I’ve been taught ever since I saved him.”
“Which you shouldn’t have, by the way. What were you thinking, Steve?” Sam
asked softly, looking at the man with intent eyes.
“But I did, and it’s done, Sam. Please, can we move beyond that and just accept
that I’ve turned one of our greatest enemies into an ally?” The blond shook his
head. “And I wasn’t thinking about much. I just didn’t want his death to be on
my hands.”
“Why not? You might’ve been promoted for killing the ‘Winter Soldier,’ might’ve
even made it to the circle of elders” Sam stated.
“I know I would have,” Steve sighed with a shake of his head. “But something
felt wrong about doing that. I . . . do you remember, even faintly, what it was
like to be compelled? It was like that, all over again. I felt I had to save
Bucky.”
Sam sighed and looked down at his book again before returning his gaze back on
Steve, “the elders could still have him killed, Steve. You know that, right?
His crimes against us might be too great.”
Nodding, desperation lighting his vibrant blue eyes, firing them golden once
more, the blond whispered, “I love him, Sam . . . how did this happen? Do sires
love their newborns? Mine didn’t.” His tone sounded bitter when he thought of
the man who’d converted him almost three hundred years before.
“Depends on the sire, I suppose,” Sam shrugged; Redwing fluttered his wings
before taking off, perching on a shelf.
“I truly doubt Pierce loved me,” Steve muttered softly.
“Pierce is a lying sack of shit,” Sam said with a growl.
“I think I might have a lead on him at last, Sam,” Steve lifted his eyes to
meet Sam’s brown ones. “Bucky mentioned him as part of Hydra . . .”
Sam looked shocked, “That doesn’t make any sense . . . why would a vampyre be
part of an organization that kills vampyre’s.”
“Why would a vampyre be in an organization that creates vampir, hunts vampires,
uses humans, and tortures vampyres? Let me think . . . why would Pierce
specifically be in that kind of place?” Steve narrowed his eyes at the
obviousness of the answer, at least to him. His sire had ever been a power-
hungry, selfish, neglectful figure.
“What did the hunter say about Pierce?” Sam refused to call the murderer by the
petname his friend had seemed to adopt.
“Bucky has orders to check in regularly, which he did yesterday. He’s not
expected for another week before they come looking for him. However, while he
was explaining that to me, he mentioned that his last contact with Pierce was
when the rogue gave him directions on how to find me and orders to kill. The
orders are long standing. Apparently Hydra insists that Romanov and I killed
Bucky’s family, including his three year old sister.”
“So, Pierce wanted you two to meet up again . . . why?” Sam looked thoughtful,
puzzling through the complicated mess.
“And why send a vampire after Bucky not four hours later?” Steve asked in
return.
“He wanted the hunter dead, I suspect,” Sam offered.
“That’s what I figure. He wanted me dead and Bucky. But he should have known I
could easily kill a human hunter, so that rules out both of us dying. So, he
wanted me to kill Bucky? But then followed up with a vampire attack? That seems
highly improbable.” Steve shook his head in confusion at the mysterious purpose
of the older rogue.
“Maybe Pierce knew that the hunter stood no chance against you . . . but also
knew you wouldn’t be able to finish the job.” Sam offered, looking at his long-
time friend with a serious expression.
“How could he know that? I didn’t even know that. I’ve killed hunters before,
Sam. So why would Pierce be able to guess that this one was different?”
“But how many times have you let the ‘Winter Soldier’ go, Steve?” Sam looked at
Steve expectantly.
“I . . .” the blond fell into puzzled silence. He lifted troubled eyes to his
friend and said softly, “I don’t know? A couple dozen at least. But Nat must’ve
let him go, too, because she’s the one who crippled the arm he eventually lost
to my loom.”
Sam sighed, shaking his head and running his hand through his short curls, “you
need to get that newborn to Nat, Steve.”
“But as a newborn, he’s too fragile to face a safehouse full of vampyres bent
on hating him,” Steve protested on a near whimper, not heard since his own
youth. “I need to keep him safe until he’s stronger.”
“What if he never gets stronger, Steve? We have no idea of the damage done by
the mating. For all we know, he’ll be stuck in the newborn stage for the rest
of his life.” Sam pointed out, trying to get his friend to see reason. “He
might need to be contained . . . for his own safety.”
Steve whimpered again, dropping his head into his hands. “I didn’t mate him on
purpose, Sam, I swear it!” He couldn’t bear the idea of locking Bucky away in
solitary for a few hours let alone the rest of his now very long life.
“I didn’t say you did, Steve. But now you have to deal with the consequences.
It’s very possible he’ll never mature pass this stage.”
“I have to turn myself in,” Steve whispered. “I abused my newborn.”
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, “always so dramatic, Steve. You said you
didn’t do it on purpose . . . it’s not like you forced yourself on him or
anything.”
Steve winced, literally flinching at that statement.
“You didn’t . . .” Sam looked at his friend with wide eyes.
“He was bleeding to death and I couldn’t give him energy quickly enough, Sam. I
had to . . .” Steve’s voice dropped to a whisper of shame, “I had to force
myself on him . . . rape him . . . to give him the energy he needed.”
“Lucky for you he’s a hunter, so there won’t be any sympathizers, hell, I’m
sure more than half the vampyre community would’ve loved to be in your place,”
Sam shook his head, straightening.
Shaking his head, Steve lifted haunted eyes. “But there should be sympathizers,
no matter what Bucky did as a human. We should never rape a fragile being like
a human.” Dropping his head back into his hands, Steve groaned, “I’m just
thankful he acquiesced in the end so I could convert him and save him.”
“Invite Natasha here,” Sam offered, “send word for her.”
Lifting his head slowly, Steve studied his friend. “You want me to invite the
Romanov to your house?”
“Look, I am not going to pretend that I am happy that I have one of the
deadliest hunters resting in one of my spare rooms . . . but like you said,
like it or not, he’s one of us now. We have no idea what the damage is. He may
never be strong enough to be around a group of vampyres. Best we have Natasha
visit him one-on-one.”
With a soft growl of regret, Steve said, “fortunately we are more civilized
than humans or those mindless blood-suckers, Sam. With my patronage, no one
will dare touch Bucky. But I feel like he needs more strength before I can
expose him to our world. He has so much to learn . . .” Finally, nodding, Steve
looked over at Redwing on his perch. “Would I be permitted one of your friends
to deliver the message for me so I don’t have to leave you to tend Bucky?”
“Go ahead,” Sam smiled, “Redwing needs his exercise anyway. There’s nothing you
could do to make me feed that newborn, Steve.” The dark-skinned vampyre
shuddered at the thought of feeding the ‘Winter Soldier. ‘
With a smile of gratitude, Steve moved to the small writing desk and quickly
penned his missive, asking Nat to come to the Wilson house in order to see ot
his newborn, which had a very unusual condition. Steve didn’t go further into
the problem, in case the message was intercepted by hunters, and he didn’t
clarify which Wilson house, knowing Redwing’s identity would mark Sam’s house
as the target locale. Turning with a small chirruping coo for Redwing, Steve
rolled the message tight into the delivery tube, reaching over and gently
strapping the small cylinder to the falcon’s leg. “Got it, Redwing, love? It’s
for the redhead.” Steve knew Sam would translate words as well as tone for his
feathered companion.
Redwing cooed in response before flapping its wings and taking off,
disappearing through a small hatch in the ceiling.
Watching the bird’s flight until it disappeared from view, wishing he could
truly witness the majestic flight through the skies, Steve sighed. “That is one
gift I wish our Clans shared. The ability to communicate with your feathered
friends.” He looked over at Sam, “and of course joining them in flight must be
fun, too, at times.”
“Steve!” Bucky’s voice screamed, voice muffled by layers of walls and doors,
sounding frightened.
Whirling around, eyes widening and firing up at the tone, Steve sprinted to the
door. “Buck? What happened, baby?” He didn’t stop when he saw the young hunter
completely dressed stumbling in the foyer. “Bucky?” Steve reached for his
newborn’s arm to steady him.
“I fucked up, Steve!” Bucky sobbed, eyes wide and scared.
“Tell me,” Steve ordered, using his calming Alpha tone. He immediately began
pulling one of Sam’s hats on and a coat to cover his still nude torso.
“I - - I went home, Steve . . . Pietro wasn’t supposed to be home - - I . . .
he started convulsing . . . I - - I didn’t mean it!” Bucky sobbed, body
trembling.
“Sam! Send another friend! Tell Nat it’s an emergency!” Steve nodded and
wrapped an arm securely around Bucky’s waist, holding tight. “Tell me where to
go, Bucky. I need to help him.”
Bucky pulled free and grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled the older vampyre out the
door and sprinted in the direction of the small apartment he shared with
Pietro.
Steve picked up his newborn and let his power take over, his eyes glowing
brighter as he used his strength and speed to take Bucky to the indicated home.
Inside, he moved quickly to the side of the drained and convulsing teenager.
“Shit. Bucky, strip him down for me then stand by the door. I need you to watch
Sam’s and call out to the Romanov when she arrives.” Steve pulled off Sam’s
coat and his own trousers.
The newborn quickly removed Pietro’s clothes, ripping the cotton shirt when he
struggled with the buttons. After the silver-haired teen was nude, Bucky
stepped back and watched with wide eyes.
“Damnit, this will be the second rape I have to do this day,” Steve groaned and
lay himself over the young human, sealing their mouths and reaching down to try
to fumble Pietro open at least a little bit. He managed to slide one finger
inside and began trying to ease the second in when he sensed the young man was
losing the struggle. Thus, Steve once more had to grab his own erection and
force his way inside a human, tearing the flesh as he bottomed out painfully.
Steve began to thrust, kissing Pietro. “Come on, Pietro, open your eyes. Look
at me.”
Pietro gasped, body going completely still, his eyes, however, cracked open and
he let out a tiny whimper.
“That’s it, Pietro. Good boy. Accept me. Let me in, Pietro.” He continued to
thrust, willing his orgasm to build and finding he had to think of Bucky below
him in order to maintain his erection at all. He didn’t study the odd reaction,
merely embraced it and let it fill his senses. “Come on Pietro, let me in,” he
cooed as he could feel his desire peaking, the image of Bucky’s willing flesh
below him enough to drive him on.
The young teen didn’t fight Steve; he accepted the vampyre’s energy.
“Good boy,” Steve praised, feeling the shift, the receiving of the energy gift
Steve offered. Thrusting inside hard and deep once, twice,a third time, Steve
let himself cum hard, filling the teenager with life-seed and energy. “Good
boy, Pietro,” he panted, clasping the boy to him, holding him, hands running
soothingly over the thin shoulders and lanky, unfinished frame.
“Romanov is here,” Bucky called out.
“Let her in, Bucky,” Steve said, not yet withdrawing his member from the
healing teen, waiting until he could sense the full conversion ending.
The red-haired vampyre strode past Bucky, barely offering the newborn a glance
as she rushed into the room. “What do we have here, Rogers? Two newborns in one
day? I have to say, I’m impressed.” Her tone was neutral, as she offered the
vampyre a smirk.
Growling softly, finally lifting off and out of the boy, Steve stood and moved
to the washstand to wet a cloth. “Both were unintentional, and Pietro isn’t my
newborn. He’s my accidental newborn by my other newborn.” Steve move back over
to wash the blood and semen from the boy’s ass and thighs and crotch.
“A Beta, then,” Natasha nodded and brushed away some hair from Pietro’s face.
Nodding in confirmation, Steve sat back on his heels and began to wash himself
now that Pietro was clean. “Yeah, a Beta. It’s why I changed the message to a
rush.”
“I’ll take him to the safe house, find him a surrogate,” Natasha said, lifting
Pietro effortlessly, causing the boy to whimper again.
Relief washed over the tall blond. “Thank you, Romanov. I’ll be there later
tonight with my other newborn so we can discuss both cases.” He sighed. Steve
had always been a well disciplined vampyre, which is why he was a leader, but
this could well tarnish any record he had with the elders. He pulled the quilt
from the bed and threw it over the nude newborn in Natasha’s arms.
“We will be expecting you,” Natasha said with another nod before walking out of
the space, hurrying to get the newborn in her arms the help he needed.
***** Of Punishment and Protection *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Rape, Hate Sex, and Graphic Violence.
Steve shut the door, sealing out some of the sunlight, then began closing
curtains around the room, his weakness dragging on him for having had to do
such a conversion in sunlight of all things. “Bucky, how you feeling?” he asked
tiredly.
Bucky didn’t answer him, the brunet walked soundlessly into the hallway and
into the room he’d occupied for years. Romanov had just called Steve ‘Rogers’,
so, Steve was part of the second clan that Bucky had hunted so heavily.
Looking over, Steve frowned. “Buck? Are those windows even covered, you jerk?”
Steve followed his newborn. Once in the other room, Steve began pulling the
curtains shut there as well.
“What does it matter?” Bucky murmured, he looked down at the only picture he
had of his family. Picking the picture up, framed in delicate brass, the brunet
looked up at Steve, “none of this matters anymore.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Steve felt frustration and some small disgust,
despite both cases being forced on him. He finished with the curtains and
turned to his wayward newborn, intent on trying to hold his patience long
enough to correct the misbehavior Bucky had inadvertently done. “You endangered
that child, Bucky. Why didn’t you stay in Sam’s guest room and rest?”
“You gonna lock me in a room forever, Steve?” Bucky shouted, eyes flashing, “is
that your master plan? Keep me away from everything so you could just use me?
Is that what all this is about? I get, it, really I do. I killed so many of
your clan members - - this is all just revenge, isn’t it? But stop lying to me!
Stop acting like you honestly care about me!”
“Master plan? What the hell are you talking about?” Steve shook his head,
unable to follow his newborn’s odd logic. “The sunlight will make you sick.
It’s not locking you up, it’s protecting you! This has nothing to do with their
deaths but with your life!” Steve took a step closer to the angry newborn,
feeling the Omega’s intense emotions and even smelling the bitter tang of his
anger. “Of course I care about you . . .”
“Just like turning me into a fucking monster was saving me, right, Steve?”
Bucky growled, baring his fangs, “You don’t fucking care about me! Why would
you?”
“You’re not a monster, Bucky. Vampyres are not monsters.” He stepped over to
his Omega’s side, reaching for the smaller man. “You are my newborn, my mate,
and I want to care for you.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Bucky snarled and shoved the older vampyre away,
“I didn’t want any of this! I didn’t want you!”
Somewhat surprised, though god knew why, at the open hostility from the man
who’d not an hour before had begged for sex, Steve sighed. “Okay, this was
beyond your control. So you should learn to control it, Buck. By roaming around
among humans in your hungry newborn state, you risk attacking and even killing
them because you aren’t strong enough to turn them completely. You don’t have
the control to refrain from using them for feedings.”
“Control?” Bucky threw the picture frame at Steve, as hard as he could, the
glass shattering upon impact of the wall behind Steve, “I don’t have any
control anymore! But you knew that would happen, bet you’re laughing on the
inside, because you turned a hunter into your sick little bitch! Go ahead,
laugh, Steve. You got to fuck two hunters in one day. You’ve got two good boys
to play with!”
Steve’s eyes widened and he growled low. “You think I like raping teenagers to
correct your mistakes?” Steve reached for Bucky and whirled him around,
slamming him into the desk and yanking his pants off him. He held him by the
back of the neck with one hand while he brought his other down over the man’s
buttocks, punishing him like a child. “You think I didn’t have trouble getting
it up so I could save that boy?” He slapped Bucky’s firm ass again, drawing a
redness to the cool flesh. “I had to fucking picture you beneath me just so
your friend could live!”
Bucky squirmed and fought against the Alpha, his hand trying to find a purchase
beneath him. However, he knew it was a losing battle. His body longed to
submit, for the dominance that Steve was displaying. He involuntarily gasped
and mewled as Steve’s strong hand smacked his ass.
With another firm slap to that quivering flesh, Steve growled out, “do you
enjoy what you’ve done to me, Omega? Do you see how you drive me to the point
of madness! I can’t even think when you’re close, and your insatiable heats
drive me to do things no sane Alpha would do!” Steve slapped a fourth time, but
his hand ended in a caressing motion across the newborn’s reddened ass,
soothing the angry flesh.
At the caress of his burning flesh, Bucky let out a moan, hips grinding down
against the desk, needing friction against his sudden aching, erect member.
Slick began to trickle out of his passage, running down his thighs; the Omega
opened his legs more, presenting himself for his Alpha.
Groaning at his sudden raging lust, the near overwhelming sweet scent of
fertile, needy Omega, Steve used his one free hand to part Bucky’s heated,
reddened, burning flesh. He guided his own massive tool to that fluttering
opening, his other hand still firmly holding the newborn in place, bent over
the hard wooden desk. “You like driving me to lose control? Fine, I’m going to
fuck you like you’ve been begging for, little Omega.” Steve snapped his hips,
shoving his member to the hilt in one quick thrust, grinding Bucky’s erection
against the wood in front of him, trapping him there. The fire of the spanking
gripped Steve’s member, heating his balls and drawing a deep groan from the
blond vampyre. “So sweet, Bucky . . .”
Bucky cried out, fingers curling tightly against the edge of the desk; his body
longed for his submission, his entire being ached for it, for each brutal
thrust his Alpha would dish out. Bucky keened and whimpered in need.
Not pausing, Steve pulled out and thrust right back in, hard, slamming Bucky
against the desk again. He felt powerful, in control, and strangely, his knot
began to form already. Steve continued to thrust, through, shunting his bulging
knot in and out through that ring of muscle, painfully stretching that tight
flesh with each buck of his hips, until he grew so large he risked tearing his
mate’s entrance. At that point, Steve wrapped his strong arm around Bucky’s
lean waist and thrust in deeply then began pumping, moving them both in unison,
causing a friction against the brunet’s trapped flesh but causing a burning tug
with each near threat of pulling that massive knot from his mate’s tight ass.
“Alpha,” Bucky sobbed, the painful, pleasurable sensations rocking through his
body with each jarring thrust. He spread his legs further, submitting himself
to his Alpha’s pleasure.
“Good boy,” Steve cooed, his anger burning off as quickly as it had built,
leaving the blond desiring to fulfill his lover. He continued shunting them
back and forth but let go of Bucky’s neck. He moved his hand down to encircle
the bruised, painful erection trapped by the desk, easing back enough to sooth
Bucky’s hardness with surprisingly feather-light strokes and explorations, so
at odds with the still near-brutal stretching and tugging he did behind his
mate. “Good, Bucky. My Bucky . . .”
“Alpha . . . please - -” Bucky begged, his tone desperate and full of erotic
longing.
“You may cum, little one,” Steve breathed into his lover’s ear, granting him
the release he desired but matching it with a brutal explosion of hot semen
into that tortured, burning passage, his knot bobbing with each jet of cum.
The Omega groaned at his own, almost painful, release; his hips rocked with
Steve’s thrusts, not wanting the sensations to end.
Finally, Steve’s knot released, but the blond grabbed his own semi-erection
before it could slide out of Bucky. He held it there instead, shunting back and
forth in the over-stimulated passage, enjoying the fiery heat surrounding him,
the fluttering and clutching of Bucky’s muscles. “Did you like that, Bucky? Was
that what you wanted?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky answered, still thrusting back to meet Steve’s member; for
the first time, this was all Bucky; his lustful need wasn’t being triggered by
his hunger; just the Omega’s want of Steve.
“And do you still want this?” Steve wriggled his member inside Bucky, twisting
his hips enough to stir inside the other man.
“Yes, please . . .” Bucky pushed back against Steve, “Please, Alpha?”
Whispering low in Bucky’s ear, a caress of desire, Steve said, “and what does
my Omega want his Alpha to do to him, pet?”
“Want you to fuck me, Alpha . . . ‘m yours, Alpha . . . all yours,” Bucky
whimpered, his need for his mate stronger than ever despite the rough bout of
sex they just had.
“But I did just fuck you, pet. Weren’t you paying attention?” Steve stirred his
hips again, his member pulling over Bucky’s bruised, over-stimulated prostate.
Bucky keened, slick still pumping out of his passage, coating his thighs and
causing the room around them to become engulfed in his sweet scent.
Letting out a groan, Steve reacted instantly to his Omega’s enticing aroma.
“God, need to have you, Bucky. Need to fill you up. Fill you so full no other
Alpha will ever look at my Omega.” The blond began pumping rhythmically, long,
deep strokes as he trailed his teeth along the man’s mating scar.
“Mark me, Alpha, make me your’s. No other - -” Bucky’s breath hitched as Steve
brushed over his prostate, “don’t want no one else . . . just you.”
“And what do you want from me, love?” Steve cooed as he worked in and out, not
even touching Bucky’s member this time, taking what Bucky willingly offered.
“Everything . . . anything you give me, Alpha,” Bucky answered on a keen; he
thrust with Steve, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing throughout the
space.
After several minutes of the languid thrusting, Steve bit Bucky’s neck, right
on the mark, as if out of the blue. As he did so, he thrust hard, balls deep,
and actually let loose with several hot jets of life-seed, without warning. He
held the man’s hips tightly as he pumped rope after rope into his lover before
finally pulling out in one obscene slide. “So good, Bucky,” Steve whispered,
still holding Bucky’s hips, but barely touching the Omega with anything more
than his hands and his breath.
Bucky’s body quivered with the massive amount of energy; he could feel Steve’s
cum mixed with his slick run down his thighs.
“Good boy, Bucky,” Steve continued to coo, letting the over-stimulated newborn
catch his breath, letting the cool air work over the overheated flesh to try to
calm some of Bucky’s raging nerve ends. “My perfect Bucky . . .”
“‘M yours,” Bucky nodded, voice raspy and eyes half lidded: they had settled
back down to their normal icy blue. The Omega didn’t move off the desk, his
reddened ass still presented to Steve.
Without any word of warning, Steve suddenly stepped beside the untouched bed
and grabbed the duvet off the top. He tossed it over Bucky and began wrapping
him snuggly in the warm covering. Lifting the man into his arms easily, Steve
held him close, reaching to cover the brunet’s exposed face. “We’re leaving
here, Buck,” he advised softly.
“Picture . . .” Bucky murmured brokenly, head tucking under Steve’s chin.
Looking down at the delicate picture under the shattered glass, Steve stopped
with his burden and carefully grasped the paper by the edge. He shook any
slivers of glass from the image then slipped it below the cover into Bucky’s
hand, along with a small carved pin of a sea-creature that lay beside it,
knocked off the desk during their rough sex. “Anything else, love?” he asked
quietly, voice gentle with an underlying hint of steel protectiveness.
Shaking his head, Bucky held tightly to the picture of his family and the
stylized octopus, “that’s all I came here for . . . Pietro wasn’t supposed to
be here . . .” his tone was full of grief and regret.
Gently, very carefully, Steve tucked the duvet over his lover’s face, covering
every last part of exposed flesh on the half nude man. With one arm, holding
Bucky’s weight awkwardly against him in the other, Steve ripped a sheet from
the bed and flung it haphazardly over his own nudity, clutching it at his
chest, knowing it was barely covering his legs and arms, and that his head and
unshielded face were exposed directly. Without another word, the vampyre
carried his precious bundle out of the apartment and made his way back to Sam’s
house, hoping the door would not be barred to them after Bucky’s ignorant
stunt.
He didn’t blame his old friend when he found the door locked. Steve merely
nodded and headed off to the sheltering shadow of the tall, narrow buildings,
hiding down a darker ally. He would have to get to the safehouse instead. It
would be closer than his own house, and most likely safer in the end for the
unusual needy being in his arms. Tamping down the terror he felt welling with
his confusion at the mysterious nature of Bucky’s conversion, the
unconventional results and probable outcome, Steve ran down alley after alley,
trying to avoid directly exposing himself to the sun as he went. A half hour
quickly flowed, marking Bucky’s rise in need once more, but Steve ignored his
own answering need for his desperate newborn. He had to get them both to
Romanov’s before he could expose them to defenselessness while feeding Bucky.
“Stevie . . .” Bucky whimpered, squirming in his Alpha’s arms; his breaths came
out in rough pants as he rutted.
“I know,” Steve cooed back, deep voice vibrating through his chest. “Slide your
hand through your blanket and touch my chest, my love. Use your arm to touch me
while you stroke yourself slowly, very slowly, with your fingers. Tease
yourself for me, baby doll.” The vampyre knew the building foreplay he demanded
would only go so far to helping the newborn, but it could be enough to distract
him while Steve ran them to Natasha’s. He hated ordering the man to do this, to
touch and pleasure himself without allowing release, but Steve couldn’t take
the chance of Bucky once more coming to his senses and denying on angry
principle. For good measure, Steve cruelly ordered, “you are not permitted to
release without me, love.”
Bucky listened, hand dropping the picture and pin on his chest to touch Steve’s
firm pectoral while his fingers wrapped around his sensitive flesh. The Omega
gasped at the pleasurable sensations, his mind only focusing on the good
feelings.
“That’s it,” Steve praised. “Slide your arm against my flesh while you play
with yourself.” The sun, higher than it had been merely an hour go, weakened
him faster than at dawn, and Steve scanned the roadway desperately, looking for
the tellatale marker indicating he was at a safehouse entrance. He hadn’t
visited any in so long, especially this particular one, and worried he’d
forgotten the distance in his newborn’s shared lust.
The Omega felt himself pushing up against the edge of orgasm, “please, Alpha .
. . please?”
Knowing Bucky would destroy that picture by cumming all over it, and that damn
picture had almost cost Pietro his life, Steve refused to give in, determined
to have Bucky in safety before allowing his release, keeping him distracted
during their journey. “You are forbidden this time, Omega, unless I cum, too.
Do you understand me? The next time you cum, I must be cumming with you.”
Bucky whined, a low, pitiful sound, “it hurts, Alpha . . . please - - burns . .
.”
“Then let go yourself and breath deeply, Bucky. You will learn control. Wait
until the pain ebbs then begin to caress again.” Steve couldn’t believe he was
parroting that long ago lesson Pierce had forced him through, wincing at the
implications that he was just like his lecherous, neglectful sire. Finally, he
spotted the welcoming yet discreet sign.
Rushing to the door, using a burst of reserve energy he often kept in case of a
fight, the blond began kicking the door with his bare foot, screaming loudly in
his weakened rasp, “we need sanctuary!”
Bucky, smelling and sensing a room full of other Alpha’s, whimpered, “Stevie .
. . make them go away. I don’t like it - - Stevie . . . ‘m yours.”
“You are mine, Omega, but we need safety. They are forbidden to bother you.”
Steve took the chance to kiss Bucky, though he didn’t move the cloth covering
the newborn, so his lips were muffled. Raising his weakened voice once more,
Steve shifted Bucky into one arm and began knocking as loud as he could, his
clan’s well vaunted super strength leaching from him as he exposed more of
himself to the direct sunlight. “Romanov! Sanctuary! It’s Rogers!”
The door opened and Natasha pulled them inside, “what the hell, Rogers? I could
smell him through the door!”
“Private room,” he panted, eyes wild and fiery gold, breath coming in quick,
painful pants. “He needs feeding now!” Steve knew that any mature vampire in
there could smell and feel the hidden newborn’s desperation. “Talk after.
Please!”
The red-haired vampyre nodded once and led the pair into the closest, available
room. “After he is fed, come into the main room, that is where I will be.”
Gratitude came to those golden eyes as Steve panted, “thanks. He’s been
desperately hungry every half hour, we nearly didn’t make it.”
Natasha opened the door, “take care of him. I’ll post a Beta by the door,” her
eyes flickered to another Alpha vampyre close by looking at the pair, “his
scent is strong.”
“Thank you, Romanov,” Steve said before kicking the door shut in her face. He
turned and lowered both his bundle and himself to the bed. “Almost ready, my
love,” he cooed, stripping away the coverings and picking up Bucky’s photograph
and pin. He placed the objects out of danger’s way and said, “touch me,
please,” request, not order. “I’m so heavy for you, so near, my love.”
Bucky looked up at Steve with wild, wide eyes, and he keened, wrapping his arm
around his mate’s neck. His thighs were drenched with his slick, his hips
rutting and grinding up to meet Steve’s.
“Open for me?” Steve asked, positioning his painfully full erection by Bucky’s
entrance, ready to plunge in. There would be no time or need for playing. Steve
knew that in a couple of strokes, he’d lose himself completely, without time to
form a knot to please his mate.
Opening his legs wider, Bucky canted, giving his Alpha better access to the
needy entrance.
“Good boy, my Omega,” Steve praised lovingly as he pushed ruthlessly deep into
his lover’s passage. He didn’t pause, didn’t adjust, merely began thrusting
fully in and almost fully out, over and over, reaching his other hand down to
grasp Bucky’s balls and squeeze gently. “Cum, my love,” he instructed. His own
orgasm spilled over, drawing a wild shout from him as he filled his mate with
life-seed once more. The blond’s energy felt renewed with their loving,
promising full recovery within hours rather than days.
Bucky saw white, his back arching fully off the bed as he came with a raspy
shout. “Alpha . . . Stevie . . . the newborn muttered, feeling fully satisfied
once more.
Steve gently kissed Bucky’s lips then each eyelid, smiling. “Rest, please,
Bucky? I’ll be close, again.”
“Kay,” Bucky muttered, eyes slipping shut.
“My good love,” Steve praised, dragging himself from his lover and quickly
cleaning the young man up before wrapping him in the duvet they’d inadvertently
brought from Bucky’s old bedroom. Steve washed himself and pulled on some spare
pants in the closet, wincing at the tightness of the leather molding to his ass
and cupping his groin almost as tight as a lover. With a sigh, on bare feet,
Steve slipped from the room to find Natasha. He offered a frown and glare at
the nearby Alpha who’d stood close to the door when Steve had carried Bucky in.
Stopping by the red-haired woman’s chair, Steve ignored the rest of the
vampyres gathered, young and old. He merely bowed his head and shoulders in
formal tanks for her timely rescue.
“You don’t bow to me, Rogers,” Natasha said with a pleasant smile; she rose
from her chair and walked soundlessly over to the taller vampyre, “got yourself
a needy newborn, huh?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I converted him two hours before dawn and he’s been hungry
every half hour. This is the first I’ve managed to get him to sleep in that
time.”
“That is interesting,” Natasha nodded.
“I am presenting myself for discipline, Romanov,” Steve intoned formally. “For
your determination and just punishment for possible endangerment of two
newborns, and possible abuse of one.” He didn’t like the feelings of surprise,
interest, and smugness from the others present, guardians elected by elders for
high ranking safety positions in the safehouse.
She quirked a brow, looking at Steve with an interested expression, “and do
tell, Steve Rogers, what did you do to that newborn to abuse him?”
“I better tell the whole thing for it to make any sense,” Steve sighed, but he
never asked for a chair, even in his sun-weakened state. “I accidentally pushed
him into my loom and had to convert him, very quickly, or he would have died.”
He drew a breath and ran his hand over the back of his neck, an old habit of
nervousness he’d long thought broken. “Before we were half through his second
feeding, he came to his senses and ended the feeding, angry and probably
afraid. But, in our next mating,” Steve flushed and looked over Nat’s head,
meeting the eyes of a dark vampyre who had long complained that no one, even a
Rogers, could be as unblemished as Steve pretended to be. Dropping his eyes,
Steve met Natasha’s instead. “I knotted him in our third feeding.”
“You mated a newborn,” Natasha’s face dropped to a neutral calm.
Nodding once, Steve could feel his redness creeping down his nude chest and
past his waistband. Being of a fairer complexion at his own conversion, he’d
never lost the habit of full-body blushing. “And mated him, yes. Including
marking him, Romanov.” Unlike with Sam, Steve didn’t try to defend himself with
his confusion and fear. He merely put out the facts, without supporting
evidence, and awaited the judgement, feeling so bad about his possible injuries
to Bucky that he felt he deserved whatever judgement she proclaimed on him.
Natasha’s piercing green eyes look intently at Steve’s pure blue ones, “there
is nothing I could do to you that wouldn’t further hurt him, Steve. You are his
mate. He won’t get the release he needs from any other Alpha, he is your’s and
your’s alone.”
“I need to help him, Nat,” Steve fell into a soft begging tone, silently
accepting her sentence. “Wilson said I might have stunted him into permanent
newborn stage?” Fear laced his words.
“It is possible,” Natasha nodded, “but I seem to recall a certain newborn that
needed feeding every twenty minutes some three hundred years ago, and he turned
out just fine.”
Flushing even brighter, not even sure how that was possible, Steve bowed his
head on a sigh. “Then I am just like my sire . . .” his voice held misery. “But
this time the newborn can’t be spared my abuse, like I was spared his.”
“In what way?” Natasha asked, “how are you like your sire, Steve?”
Lifting his head, he sighed. “First I raped him then I knotted him? I don’t
even know how that happened! It was a normal feeding, I thought, and suddenly
we were knotting.” The blond shook his head and ran his hand through his short
blond tresses, beginning to pace restlessly in front of Natasha’s chair. He
still ignored the silently watching safehouse Alphas. “And when he slipped off
to retrieve a picture of his human family, he went into heat and attacked his
former roommate, the boy you found me raping . . . another rape in less than
eight hours.” Self-disgust welled up. “How is the child?” Steve ventured, ever
mindful of others, despite his claims of abuse.
“The boy is fine, I placed him with Darcy . . . I have also informed his sister
of his . . . attack,” Natasha said with a nod, eyes softening slightly.
“Sister? My newborn said his sister was murdered by blood-suckers, as was his
own family . . . including a three year old girl, Natasha! A mere human pup!”
“His sister is Wanda, Wanda Maximoff,” Nat watched Steve, eyeing his reaction
to the news.
Breathing in a shocked rush, Steve’s blue eyes went wider than most would think
possible. “The Maximoff female?” It was well known that the Maximoff clan
generally shunned converting females into their very powerful ranks of mind-
controllers. “She is Pietro’s sister?” Shaking his head, Steve hissed, “the
lies keep building. I wonder if Bucky’s family is even dead with such lies
Hydra fed him!”
“Do you know his family name?” Natasha asked softly.
Steve winced, knowing that this had to come to the crux of the problem: his
newborns hidden identity. “You do, too, Natasha,” he said softly but didn’t
give the answer, trying to relay through troubled eyes that he wanted that
conversation to be private for now.
“I do, yes,” Natasha answered, “I will say that his human parents are dead,
slaughtered, his sister, however . . . there was no body found.”
Wincing again, Steve nodded. “That I will not tell him, though I will check
into the matter once he is . . . calmer.” He sighed and ran his hand through
his hair again, the blond tresses standing in spikes in his drying sweat-soaked
hair. “If he ever is calmer. God, I hope I haven’t hurt him, Natasha . . . I
love him.” His voice had dropped to a bare whisper, a breath of agony and hope.
“We will keep him under close observation, if he has not moved on to a
fledgling within a month - - the elders will have to get involved.” Natasha
answered.
Nodding, Steve whispered, “and that will mean confinement with me or killing to
spare him the misery, won’t it?”
“It would . . . that is not a life he would want, Steve, you know this,”
Natasha said.
“I know this,” he confirmed. Sudden, as if sensing danger, Steve’s head shot up
and he looked towards the room he’d left his newborn in. “Bucky?” Whirling
around, Steve bolted for the room, pushing other vampyres out of the way with
his greater strength.
“Steve! Alpha!” Bucky’s pained scream filled the halls of the safe house.
Tearing the door open, Steve roared at the sight of that Alpha shoving Bucky up
against the wall, a strong grip pulling the Omega’s head painfully back. The
Alpha growled in Bucky’s ear, “shut it, hunter bitch!” The unknown Alpha ground
his hips obscenely down on the Omega’s ass, his other hand wrenching the
brunet’s arm behind his back, effectively pinning the defenseless newborn.
Without thought, Steve lept over to the pair in a single graceful surge. He dug
his hands painfully into the other Alpha’s back and shoulders, clasping flesh
and ripping backwards, his fingers digging into the back tissue, seeking the
other vampyre’s spine. “You will not touch my mate!” He roared, loudly enough
that he was heard beyond the main room. Steve blindly ripped the spine from his
victim and hurled the dying mass to the floor.
He reached over with his powerful, deadly hands and gathered his newborn to
him, cradling him as gently as a mother. Placing soft kisses along Bucky’s
cheeks and eyelids, he cooed, “I am here, love, you are safe now . . .” He was
unaware of anyone watching the barbaric turned tender display.
Bucky’s whole body trembled, the touch of the other Alpha had burned his skin,
it had felt nothing like the addictive pleasure Steve’s hands brought him.
“Alpha . . . Steve - - I didn’t want to . . . I didn’t - - ‘m yours, Alpha.”
“Of course you didn’t, my little Omega,” Steve continued to coo, scooping his
newborn up and carrying him to the bed. Steve sat, cradling Bucky in his
strong, protective embrace, letting his member caress against Bucky’s ass
cheeks, enticing the crack but not demanding sex. “You are my good boy, Bucky,
and would never let one of them touch you. You are mine. I am yours. To the end
of time’s long line.”
Bucky tucked his head under Steve’s chin, arm wrapping around his mate’s firm
waist, whimpering and mewling, not in a lustful way, even though more than
thirty minutes had passed; the newborn did not feel the familiar, triggering
burning in his veins.
Sensing the curious crush of Alphas watching through the destroyed door, Steve
lifted his face, eyes glowing intense golden fire. He curled his lip at them
and said definitely, “my newborn, my Omega, my mate, is the former ‘Winter
Soldier,’ James Barnes. He is a vampyre and untouchable. He is James Rogers
now!” Eyeing the others, even Natasha, in his over-protective Alpha state,
Steve growled, “I will kill any who try to harm him.”
Natasha smirked, green eyes glowing as she turned to look at the other Alphas,
“go on, now! Nothing to see, go on, move it.”
The Beta that had been left at the door began rousing from his knocked
unconscious state, a large bruise forming over his pale flesh, greenish blue
with underlying energy rather than purpling from human blood. “Romanov? Someone
hit me!” He stumbled as he rose then paled at the sight of the de-spined Alpha
dead on the floor of the destroyed bedroom, the quiet pair nestled on the bed,
uncaring.
“Ah, yes, I believe Steve took care of that quite nicely,” Natasha stepped into
the room, offering the dead vampyre a disgusted look before looking back at
Steve and Bucky, who still whimpered and trembled.
Lifting his calming eyes, returning to his natural vivid blue, Steve hugged his
frightened mate closer. “I . . . he touched . . . I had . . .” he pled for
understanding of the crime he had just committed on top of his other, recently
forgiven, ones.
“Do not worry, Steve, he would’ve been executed for touching a vulnerable
newborn any way, you just saved me the time,” her eyes flickered to Bucky
before returning to look at Steve, “why did you not tell me he was your true
mate?”
“True mate?” Confusion washed over the vampyre and he shook his blond head,
petting Bucky’s back. “What’s that? I’ve never heard of that before . . .”
“Your bond is even stronger than that of normal mates . . . I’ve read that true
mates can be in tuned with one another. Share energy, mind, body and soul. Can
you sense his emotions, Steve?” Natasha asked, kneeling down next to the edge
of the bed.
Meeting her eyes, the worried vampyre frowned softly, protectively cupping a
hand over Bucky’s head to continue soothing him. “Yes. I can hear his thoughts,
why wouldn’t I? I feel what he is feeling and know his innermost fears and
thoughts. But isn’t that something a sire is supposed to do? Pierce said he
could . . .”
Natasha shook her head, “no, Steve . . . Pierce could not tune into your
thoughts, if he could he wouldn’t have been able to leave . . . and if he had -
- the separation would have killed you. True mates cannot live without the
other - - they are two parts to a whole.”
Eyes flickering to the lone, still injured, Beta leaning on the doorframe,
Steve looked at Natasha and lowered his voice anyway. “Natasha? Is that why I
could never bring myself to kill him? Why I risked so much to save him?” Steve
wasn’t a stupid man, just one with a poor newborn education that even years in
a safehouse hadn’t fully corrected. Some elders had even despaired of Steve
moving beyond immature confusion and lack of control, but he had done so, and
on time.
“Yes, and he would’ve never killed you, either. You two were meant for one
another,” she looked over to the frightened Omega and smiled softly.
“Hydra sent someone after Bucky to the factory, Natasha. Sam and I couldn’t
figure out why. Was it to kill Bucky or help kill me?” Steve stroked Bucky
brunet’s tresses with a gentle hand.
“Pierce?” Bucky asked softly, head still pressed firmly against Steve’s chest.
With another sigh, but nodding in confirmation, Steve said, “almost three
hundred years ago, Alexander Rogers converted me, Bucky. But he went rogue
within a year and resumed his human name, Alexander Pierce.” The words rumbled
gently through Steve’s chest as he tried to make sense of the revealing tangle
of their lives.
“But . . . Pierce is with Hydra? They kill vampyres,” Bucky muttered, sounding
confused.
Frowning. Steve lifted Bucky’s chin so their eyes could meet, his blue eyes
softly ringed in golden fire. “Yes, they do, and yes, he is. And, yes, Bucky,
Pierce is a six hundred year old vampyre. Nowhere near elder status, but he’d
been well on his way when he went rogue.”
“Why’d he go rogue?” Bucky asked, pale eyes searching Steve’s face.
“Because he abused his newborn, among other foul fetishes. Once they took away
his last newborn, he went rogue in defiance of our culture and beliefs. He
wanted to play with others, to satisfy his own urges. He didn’t care what or
who it damaged.” Glancing to Natasha, Steve sighed and added, “I barely
survived long enough to be taken to this safehouse . . .”
Natasha stood and walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of trousers
each for Bucky and Steve; handing them over she said, “get dressed. I will move
you two to a more secure room to finish this conversation.”
At last Steve admitted his fear in front of Bucky. He asked, “how many more do
you think will attack him before they get the idea he’s one of us, Natasha?”
Sighing, Natasha shook her head, “I highly doubt any more will physically
attack him if they want to keep their spine.”
Steve flushed as the Beta in the doorway said, “after you filleted the last one
like a salmon?”
Bucky turned to look at the gruesome sight of the dead vampyre, he hummed
softly and pulled on the soft cotton pants that Natasha had given him.
Steve sighed and finished ripping the torn leather from his pelvis and legs,
flushing at how they had ripped in his mad dash to save his newborn mate.
Shimmying into the slightly looser, and therefore more comfortable, pants the
safehouse leader had provided, Steve wrapped Bucky protectively in his arms,
drawing the man backwards against his strong frame.
The blond sighed, kissed the brunet’s neck lightly, then moved to follow
Natasha’s guidance to that promised safer area. He kept Bucky’s hand in his
larger, stronger one.
In the hall, Bucky suddenly collapsed to the ground with a pained scream, hand
wrenching from Steve’s grasp to clutch at his head.
“Bucky!” Steve dropped to his knees, eyes wide and glowing bright fire-gold. He
tried to sense what had happened to his mate, not seeing or hearing any threat
yet.
“You are the newborn that turned my brother!” Wanda Maximoff said from behind
the trio, her eyes glowing a vibrant red. Bucky thrashed on the floor, pulling
at his hair as his head pulsed in agony.
At the words, Steve looked over to see the oncoming petite redheaded Maximoff
woman. “No! He’s a newborn! It was an accident!” Steve tried to shield the
leaner man, but there was nothing he could do against the vaunted Maximoff
mental powers. Steve’s were physical and could not block the attack. “Pietro
wasn’t supposed to be home when he went there!” Desperately he screamed to
Natasha, “make her stop hurting my newborn!”
As sudden as the attack had started, it ended, leaving Bucky whimpering and
curling up, still clutching at his head.
Uncaring that they were in the public hall, Steve shimmied down his pants and
slid Bucky over onto his lap, fumbling the other man’s trousers down. He once
more settled his member between Bucky’s firm globes, not breaching him, but
there, ready if Bucky had need, reminding his Omega of his Alpha’s love and a
protection, in spite of the one thing Steve could never had shielded him from.
“He is with pup,” Wanda said in a foreign language, looking at the Omega with
wide eyes, “I can feel it.”
Wrapping his arms securely around his mate, Steve kissed Bucky’s mating mark
tenderly, carefully, rocking him slightly. He ignored the senseless words
pouring from Maximoff’s throat, unable to discern them in his over-concern for
his injured lover. “I’m here, Bucky. Your Alpha is here.”
Bucky’s whole body shook violently; he made no movements to lower himself on
Steve’s member, just continued to whimper and grip at his hair. The pain in his
head had been so intense, so blinding, that it left the Omega completely
shocked and traumatized.
Slowly, Steve looked over at Wanda. “Can you take the pain away, woman?” he
growled at the younger vampyre.
“He is not in pain,” Wanda said, she did not seem phased by the growling Alpha,
“he is in shock. Unless you want me messing in his mind more, he will just have
to come out of it on his own.”
“Leave his mind alone then. You’ve hurt a newborn of eight hours enough for one
lifetime.” Steve buried his face in Bucky’s neck and nipped his mate mark
tenderly.
Bucky gave no indication of feeling Steve’s touch, just continued to mewl.
“Damn,” Steve breathed, troubled. “He’s numb.” Unsure how to help, scared by
the reaction the former hunter had to the double attack, Steve fumbled his
member to line up at Bucky’s entrance, sliding easily into the man,
concentrating on sharing energy much as he’d done when he’d first converted
Bucky. “C’mon, love, let me help you, baby.” He ignored the curious, hastily
hidden, looks from passersby in that hallway. His newborn came first, as anyone
in the safehouse would know.
After a few thrusts given by his mate, Bucky gasped and keened, “Alpha?” His
voice trembled just as bad as his body.
“Right here, my love,” Steve answered him, kissing then lightly nipping the
brunet on the mate mark. “You need feeding, love? Or just my touch, Buck?”
Bucky seemed to finally come to, he blinked a few times and realized where he
was, in the hallway, Steve thrusting into him where so many people could see.
“Stop . . . please . . .” his voice sounded so much like it did the very first
time his mate had entered him in the factory.
Steve stilled instantly, obeying the words as well as the tone this time. He
was sure Bucky’s life did not depend on the unwanted sexual contact. Slowly,
Steve began to pull out off Bucky. “You’ve come back, love . . . you were in
shock,” he tried to explain, with his normal deficit of words while nervous or
upset.
The brunet scrambled off of his mate, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he
looked around at the many eyes watching, watching as the Alpha had claimed him.
He pulled up his pants, hastily covering himself.
Steve copied his lover, drawing up his pants as he slowly stood, wincing
slightly as he pushed his near full erection painfully into the confining
leathers. He began to fasten them over his generous bulge. “Buck? This is
Natasha Romanov, the safehouse leader here. You’ve met before. And this is
Wanda Maximoff, one of the youths who live here. She was what we call Forced,”
his words came more easily at the recital of old lessons. “It means her sire
died before she finished maturing.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes flickered
between the two Omegas. “She’s Pietro’s sister, Bucky.”
“But . . .” Bucky pushed himself until his back pressed firmly against the
wall, using the surface to help him stand; the newborn looked at Wanda, “but
she died? Pietro told me . . .”
“And how did he know?” Steve asked softly, still watching Bucky for the clues
the man would give to his physical state, letting his mind touch and monitor
his newborn’s energy levels, as if on instinct.
“He - - he said . . .” Bucky stammered, his body still trembled from the
painful mental attack and he struggled to organize his thoughts.
“Pierce told him?” Steve inadvertently demonstrated his mental link to his mate
yet again, actually unaware that Bucky hadn’t spoken the words aloud. “Just as
he told you that vampyres attacked your family when it was vampir
abominations?”
“Would you like to finish this discussion in a room?” a new voice came to them,
friendly and intrusive, a dark-haired vampyre standing closely by the still
shaky Pietro. “Then if your newborn needs feeding again, he can have privacy?
Hi, I’m Darcy Romanov. This is my newborn, Pietro Romanov.”
Pietro looked directly at Bucky, eyes watching the other newborn closely, “what
happened to your arm?” He asked after a few long, tense moments.
Bucky flushed and looked down at his left side again; there wasn’t even a stump
of the left limb - - it had been ripped violently from the socket. Bucky’s eyes
fell and he inadvertently stepped closer to his Alpha, his left side
successfully hidden by Steve’s large mass.
Steve let his newborn hide behind him, studying the boy he’d helped save and
convert. He knew a newborn, even a Beta, would have memory of the conversion,
and wondered how Pietro would see his rapist-turned savior. As angrily and
resentfully as Bucky often felt? Trying to establish a peaceful bond with the
possibly confused newborn, Steve softly said, “Hello, Pietro. My name is
Steve.”
The silver-haired teen’s brows furrowed at the odd behavior of his roommate;
Bucky had never been shy or apprehensive. Pietro’s eyes flickered to Steve,
“Steve . . . you’re the one - -” he cut himself off.
Darcy reached over and stroked Pietro’s hand, smiling reassuringly at him.
“Your original sire, right, Pietro? I explained that he had another newborn so
you came to me?”
Bucky stepped further behind Steve.
Knowing that his mate feared what Pietro would think of him, since the brunet
had pretty much attacked the silver-haired boy, Steve spoke again. “Bucky had
only meant to get his family photo, but when you showed up, he needed feeding
and lost control. I’m sorry I let him out of my care when he needed feeding,
Pietro. I would have spared you this if I could have.” He hoped the young
hunter could adjust, after all his newly re-discovered sister was with them, as
well.
“You took his arm?” Pietro asked bluntly, eyes flashing green but they quickly
returned to their normal brown color.
“We were fighting and I threw him, but he headed towards the mechanized loom I
was running. He fell in before I could catch him. I pulled him out and had to
convert him to save him.” Steve’s words were matter of fact, not hiding
anything from Bucky’s friend and fellow hunter . . . well, except for the fact
that he had raped Bucky as well, but after Pietro’s conversion, it would be
natural for the boy to assume all conversions included rape. That was one of
the reasons he needed lessons in a safehouse: to erase the trauma he’d suffered
and show him how normal vampyres lived.
“Steve,” Wanda called out, her voice soft as she stepped up besides her twin.
The blond looked to the small redhead. “Wanda,” he said, his hand slipping
protectively in front of his newborn still partially behind him.
“Did you hear what I said earlier?” Wanda asked, looking at Bucky.
“What you said?” Steve frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry, I thought maybe you’d
slipped into your native language, Sokovian? I don’t speak that. I couldn’t
understand you while I was tending Bucky.” He flushed lightly.
Wanda nodded, it was common for her to slip into her mother tongue without even
realizing she’d done so, “he is with pup, Steve.”
Mouth dropping open in shock, Steve hurried glanced behind him at Bucky. “With
. . . pup?” He lifted Bucky’s face, studying his lover’s eyes. “Are you sure,
Wanda? Bucky? Are you okay?”
“I could feel the life force in him, I am sure . . . has he been acting - -
erratic?” Wanda looked back at Bucky, who looked terrified.
Darcy chirruped, “A newborn with pup?” She looked to Natasha. “Isn’t that kind
of impossible?”
Steve ignored Pietro’s surrogate and nodded at Wanda, still looking into
Bucky’s face. “Yes, mood swings and intense hunger. Almost insatiable until the
last hour.” His hands were gentle on Bucky’s face.
“Pregnant Omega’s are known to be moody,” Natasha supplied, looking rather
surprised.
Frowning softly, finally looking away from his mate, Steve looked to Natasha.
“I never impregnated someone before and barely recall my own. I was so young .
. . so confused and scared.” He turned back to Bucky. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ll
take care of you. Bucky, please, are you okay?” His voice had gone a shade even
gentler than when he thought Bucky merely his newborn Omega mate . . . if that
was even possible.
“Pup? I’m - -” Bucky looked down at his stomach, in less than twenty-four hours
he’d gone from being a hunter, to a newborn and now . . . he was pregnant? A
small whimper broke past his lips as he caressed his hand over his abdomen.
At that pitiful sound, Steve wrapped his arms around his mate and held him
close. “I’m here, Bucky. I won’t leave you. I promise to be here for you. And,
together, I’ll make sure we can raise the pup. Even if you’re too young, I
won’t send it away.” He had horrible memories of his own pup being ripped from
his arms because he’d been a newborn, too, when he’d gotten pregnant. He
wouldn’t let that happen to Bucky; Steve would raise the pup until Bucky could
take over.
“Steve, take him to the room, last door on the left,” Natasha said, the air
thickening with the scent of the scared Omega.
Nodding, Steve lifted Bucky easily into his arms and held him close. He
maneuvered the brunet’s face into his neck, so Bucky could inhale his scent . .
. he’d been instructed long ago that that’s what mates did. The big vampyre
carried his burden into the designated room, kicking the door shut in old
habit, despite the rudeness of such abuse of the home. He crawled onto the bed,
slipping Bucky in his lap, still clothed this time, and held him. “Bucky bear?”
he crooned softly.
“I’m - - Steve . . . I’m - -” Bucky didn’t want to say the word, saying it
would make it real.
Cupping Bucky’s cheeks gently, Steve guided the other man’s face up and lowered
his lips to brush over Bucky’s. “I know, Sweetheart. You’re with pup. You’re
carrying my pup.” For this fresh newborn it must be utterly terrifying. At
least Steve had to figure it out naturally, only realizing it after he’d
started to form a baby bump and Pierce had crowed in delight over his triumph.
“I’m scared, Steve . . .” Bucky whimpered.
“I’m here, Bucky. I’ll help you and show you how to take care of it. I’ll be
right here, my love.” Steve kissed him again and again, soft caresses,
undemanding, unintrusive vows of his love.
Bucky curled up in Steve’s lap, head burrowing into his mate’s neck, breathing
in deep, taking in the blond’s comforting scent.
“My mate,” Steve breathed, “my beautiful Omega . . . my Bucky.” The blond
continued to kiss his lover, letting his love and confidence flow into his
scent, soothing and reassuring. He tamped his fear and worry down deep, not
wishing to terrify Bucky any more than the confused newborn already was. “My
perfect love. You and I will have a beautiful pup together, Bucky, and it will
be raised in love and security.”
“‘M tired, Stevie,” Bucky murmured.
“Are you hungry, Buck?” Steve offered.
Bucky shook his head.
“Then close your eyes and sleep in my embrace, my love. I will be here when you
wake up.” Steve lay them both down but did not shift the curled Omega. The
Alpha drew a blanket over them both and merely held his lover on top of him,
petting his back, carding fingers through Bucky’s long hair.
***** Of Warnings and Rescues *****
Fog and chill rain broke in swirling eddies across empty streets and dark,
narrow alleys. The soot-dirtied walls of narrow buildings, towering into the
thick, choking air, had been decorated with vibrantly garish, dulling old
posters mixed among playbills and adverts, proclaiming the dangers for humans
out after dark, the necessity of travel in large groups, remaining properly
armed and prepared, staying in well-lit areas, having strong faith. The
occasional poster proclaimed ‘Help Hydra Help You!’ or ‘Eradicate the Curse of
the Living Dead.’
A lone man, heavy greatcoat pulled tight, collar pulled up in a shield around
his ears, flat cap pulled low over his brow, rushed down one alley and up the
back mews, passing the horse rental stables behind the general steam-warmed
houses and apartments. Moving as if trying to avoid detection, a bundle
clutched desperately to his chest with one arm, tucked under his coat, his
sleeve flapping uselessly at his side, the man hoped to get to his destination
without confronting them, those he’d been warned against his entire life.
Practically stumbling as one foot dragged against the cobblestones, he grunted
softly, cutting the sound ruthlessly off, not wanting to give himself away if
his erratic footfalls hadn’t already. He was a man on a mission, in a deadly no
man’s land, bringing an unwelcome message into an enemy camp. A death run, no
doubt, but one Clint Barton felt compelled to fulfill, despite what his entire
twenty-nine years of life had instilled in him.
Again, he stumbled, this time flying to the ground, unable to catch himself
with his one free arm. He let out a whimper, again ruthlessly cutting himself
off. Unable to take the time to check on his precious bundle, the man glanced
up . . . and wanted to weep. There, discretely painted above the door of the
nondescript house, the symbol he’s been informed meant his destination had been
achieved. He pulled himself to his aching feet, ignoring the blood running down
his injured thigh, and tripped to the door.
The unfamiliar words he had memorized poured from a hoarse throat, past cracked
lips. “Sanctuary of the safehouse, please! Romanov, I need help. This is
Barton!” Naturally, his human name would be unknown to this house, but the
words were the protocol, not the actual identity. As long as he did not lie, he
should remain safe long enough to deliver his message before the expected
attack he had long been drilled into knowing would come down upon him.
The door swung open and the vibrant red-haired vampyre grabbed the human
hunter; slamming the blond man against the shut door, Natasha sneered, “Clint
Barton? What brings you here?” The safehouse had been on strict lockdown for
six weeks, since the revelation of Bucky’s pregnancy. A pup wasn’t a common
occurrence in any clan; the precious unborn life had to be protected.
“I come for two reasons, ma’am,” he said, pain and sudden warmth blinding him.
He bent over his hidden bundle and panted, not yet recognizing who had granted
him entry to the very limited protection of a vampyre safehouse. “Hydra has
heard you have a pair of their hunters and is looking for them. They plan to
invade any perceived house, safe or otherwise, and capture anyone they find
that isn’t human.”
Clint placed his free hand on his knee, the uninjured side thankfully, and
continued to try to catch his breath as pain seared his lung, the other side a
near-maddening burst of agony. He suspected he had a punctured lung, which
would help his death along. He could feel the slide of blood down his injured
hip and thigh, the twisting and grinding of broken bones in his encumbered hand
despite his sheer determination to hold onto his bundle until the end.
“And the second reason?” Natasha asked with a quirked brow, unconcerned for the
human’s health at the moment as the lives of every vampyre in her safe house
was in danger.
“I . . . cannot . . . open . . . coat . . .” he gasped harder, every new breath
a fight of increasing difficulty. “Need . . . save . . . her . . .”
“Her?” Natasha grabbed the injured human and ushered him into the same room
she’d originally given Steve and Bucky six weeks earlier. Escorting the hunter
to the edge of the bed, she forced him to sit and then knelt in front of him.
With a whimper, holding back the pained scream from bending his slashed hip,
the man acquiesced. He had come her to fulfill his private mission and accept
the death that would accompany it, what could a little pain with a show of
questionable kindness do but merely prolong the quest.
With nimble fingers, Natasha unbuttoned the man’s coat and her eyes widened at
the sight of a bloodied female pup. Knowing Steve was close by, she called,
“Steve!”
With the speed only associated with the Rogers clan, the strong blond opened
the door without further permission, frowning at Natasha’s tone. He had left
Bucky as soon as he’d heard the call. “Romanov?”
“Take the pup to medical,” Natasha ordered, taking the crying infant out of
Clint’s arms.
“Pup?” Stunned, Steve curled his lip at the human hunter, not one that worked
for Hydra but a deadly adversary nonetheless. The blond vampyre took the tiny
pup, too small to have survived a proper whelping, she must have been torn from
the womb. With a soft coo for the pup, Steve met Natasha’s eyes. “I’ll bring
her to Bucky for now. We’ll feed her.”
Natasha nodded, Bucky was already showing signs of becoming one of the
strongest, aside from Steve and herself, vampyre’s in the safehouse. The once
frightened newborn had sped through the first stage of his conversion within a
week of rebirth, something that had previously been unheard of.
Without further word or care what might happen to this human who had apparently
killed a pregnant omega and stolen the pup, Steve whirled around and carried
the infant from the room, cuddling her close and cooing soothing comfort.
Thankfully the human bastard had been caught.
Natasha looked back at the bleeding human, her eyes cold and calculating as she
searched the man’s face.
“Thank you,” Clint murmured and let himself relax, slumping back onto the soft
surface of the bed. He knew he was bleeding too much to be saved, even if he’d
found himself in the middle of New York’s finest hospital. “Hydra . . .
attacked . . . her house . . . I saw . . . them . . . kill her . . . father . .
. Omega?”
“Which house,” Natasha prompted.
Struggling to comply with the woman’s need for information, knowing that she
would have to pass the warning on, Clint gasped out “Summers . . . no . . .
survivors . . . sorry.”
Natasha closed her eyes and cursed under her breath, Hydra was ruthless, going
after a vulnerable pregnant Omega. Opening them, she looked at the hunter,
“you’re dying, Clint Barton,” she stated firmly.
“I . . . knew . . . this . . . would . . . be . . . my . . . last . . . hunt,”
he murmured, struggling to breathe, willing his eyes to stay open, watch the
entrancing green of this Romanov woman’s eyes.
“I offer you a choice, you can die a hunter or be reborn and live. It is up to
you,” Natasha said softly, eyes still calculating.
“As a . . . vampyre?” He was one of the few that didn’t mix up the two species,
but he still hadn’t found much public information proclaiming the actual
differences, so had only propaganda to go on. “Become . . . a . . . killer . .
. of . . . innocents?”
Natasha shook her head, “No, become a being of the night - - we do not kill
innocents Clint, that is the creations of Hydra. But I have a feeling you
suspect this already.”
“Why?” he asked, losing strength too quickly to further speak.
“Clint you are losing you life . . . I need your decision. If you choose death
I will make sure your body is delivered to your family for a proper human
burial,” Natasha offered once more.
“No . . . don’t . . . want . . . wife . . . to . . . know.” He gasped then
nodded once. “Live . . .” he chose, always a fighter, even if it meant becoming
something he’d been taught to hunt . . . though he’d only ever actually killed
two vampyres, the rest of his vast kill record were vampir or dhampyr.
Natasha leaned forward and pressed her lips to the dying man’s; she began to
remove Clint’s bloody clothes, being careful of the hunter’s injuries. Her
powerful energy surging into the blond, the man having already accepted her,
she didn’t have the same struggle Steve did with Pietro or Bucky.
Groaning, feeling his wounds more pronounced, every pain and anguish
intensified, Clint found himself filling with desire, his body aching for this
woman he’d only just met. “If gotta go, I choose this way, every time,” he
gasped, surprised that his lung seemed to be working a bit better. He lifted
his crushed right hand and his calloused, dirty left, and then blinked
stupidly, suddenly unsure. He didn’t want to dirty this beautiful goddess, but
he so desperately wanted to love her, to pleasure her, even as his body roared
with fire and pain.
“Go ahead, honey, it’s alright,” Natasha said softly, she traced her tongue
along his bottom lip as she began to unbutton the man’s trousers.
With a whimper of need, Clint gave in, following her encouragement. He began
unfastening her clothing, his hands caressing between each button he unhooked,
slipping against smooth cool flesh. Smiling, using his amazing abdominal
muscles, Clint sat up to meet her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, his right
hand on fire but working better than it had when it had clutched that poor,
frightened pup against his body. He trailed calloused digits over her breasts
as he exposed them, stroking and lightly twisting her nipples, weighing her
breasts. “Heaven. I’m in heaven . . .” he leaned his head down, still balanced
amazingly in that curl, strong stomach muscles holding him in position, Clint
took one nipple into his mouth and laved his tongue over the puckering flesh,
his left hand moving to knead Natasha’s other breast with strong fingers.
Natasha straddled Clint’s waist, she ground down against the man’s filling
member and let out a breathy moan. “That’s it, baby,” her hands ran down the
man’s, already healing, sides; the bruises from the painful injuries fading
away as Clint began the rebirthing process.
“So beautiful,” Clint breathed against the moist nipple. He moved his left hand
off her other amazingly full breast for so small a woman. Clutching his
erection, he breathed out, “wanna love you . . .”
Smiling, the vampyre wasted no time as she lined herself up and slowly sank
down on the man’s thick, erect flesh.
With a groan, Clint canted his hips up to meet her downward thrust, his shaft
sinking further into her wet heat. “God, yes, beautiful . . .”
Keening softly, Natasha lifted herself off of Clint before sinking back down;
she set a fast pace, knowing the initial conversion never lasted long. She
angled herself for maximum pleasure for both of them, her hips grinding hard
and deep against Clint’s.
Groaning, slipping his hands down to the woman’s slender hips, aiding her in
her pace and thrusting up to meet her every demanding grind, Clint moaned
against her breast, switching to the other, neglected side. “Getting close,
beautiful . . .” He felt like the fire in his veins would consume him and his
heart, which had begun to ache and spasm, would burst, but Clint accepted such
a death. Even without the promised rebirth, he felt he could die happy under
this woman’s ministrations.
“Let go, Clint,” Natasha said sweetly, her hips beginning to stutter and lose
the controlled rhythm.
“Yeah,” he agreed, at a loss for words as he felt his balls tighten and weigh
down, a new ache low in his belly followed by a twisting wrenching opening
inside. He had no idea what that was, what might have suddenly given way or
ruptured, but Clint lost all sense of caring. He yanked Natasha down into a
searing kiss, crashing their mouths together desperately as he suddenly began
filling her with seed, his member pumping again and again into her tight heat.
Feeling Clint’s release, Natasha moaned into his mouth, and she bottomed the
man out as she lost herself over the edge of her own orgasm, her tight heat
clenched around the newborn’s member.
Softly, breathing into his lover’s mouth, his mind a haze of lust and wonder,
Clint asked, “what’s your name?”
“Natasha,” she answered on a whisper, knowing the hunter would be able to
connect the dots to the entirety of her identity.
“You saved me when I could have brought death to your entire house?” He asked
in wonder, dark grey-blue eyes meeting her intense emerald. “I might have been
followed, Natasha!”
“You saved that pup, you warned me about an upcoming search, saving all those
who dwell here. You deserved to be saved, Clint,” Natasha didn’t lift up off of
Clint’s semi-erect member, knowing that the second wave of need would be coming
soon.
Shifting his position slightly below the woman, not minding her comfortable
weight, Clint felt surprise as lust began to fill his manhood once more. He
groaned out, “‘M like a randy teen . . . what’s going on with me?” He cupped
her hips in his strong archer’s hands and began to lift and lower her on his
own member.
Grinding down again, Natasha offered her newborn a smile, “you are in need of
energy, that is how vampyre’s feed, Clint.”
Letting his head fall back on the soft pillows momentarily, enjoying the
sensations of her clenched around his thickness, Clint offered a lopsided
puppyish grin. “Yeah? Well, that’s a far cry from the propaganda, ain't it?” He
lifted his head to kiss her neck, lapping at the sweaty flesh.
“There is a lot for you to learn, my darling, but I will teach you,” Natasha
gasped as his tongue brushed against her sensitive neck.
“You make me want to fill you forever, Tash,” he moaned. “You feel like you
were made for me.” He continued his thrusts but didn’t pick up his pace,
guiding her rise and fall with his strong hands, enjoying the easy slide of
their bodies together.
Flashing her newborn a wicked grin, her green eyes dancing, Natasha leaned down
to run her tongue across his collarbone, up the side of his neck where she
nipped, her sharp fangs grazing the flesh but not sinking in.
Groaning at the sensation, taking his lead from her, Clint moved his mouth to
her other breast, as if she’d verbally instructed him. Feeling his member
pulsing heavy and hot, he began thrusting up harder, actually holding Natasha
still above him, doing all the work of bucking into her with his thick shaft.
Natasha let herself be maneuvered on Clint’s erection; her head fell back and
eyes closed. She’d changed several humans over the course of her time on this
earth but none of them had felt like this, something about Clint felt right.
Smiling, loving the expression of pure desire on the woman’s pixieish face,
Clint gripped tighter and slammed upwards as he pulled her down forcibly,
bottoming out with the hard plunge.
With the forceful plunge, Natasha cried out in ecstasy and came around the
thick shaft, grinding her hips down hard as she rode out the intense pleasure
thrumming throughout her body.
As if in answer to her orgasm, Clint burst inside her, filling her with hot,
thick jets of seed, moaning her name in a long, loving groan of desire and
gratitude, “my Natasha . . .”
“My darling,” Natasha answered back on a sigh.
Coming down from the high of release, Clint sighed and eased Natasha down
across his stocky, muscular body. He kissed her neck then her lips. He could
feel his hard-on lessening and easing from her, and somehow he missed the
connection already, though he felt it would not be the last . . . at least not
if he had any say in this new life she’d gifted him. Reaching up, brushing her
sweaty locks from her eyes, Clint kissed her again. “Beautiful Natasha.” He
felt as tired as he sounded, longing for a nap but not wanting to miss anything
with this lovely, exotic woman.
“Go to sleep, my darling, we will speak more when you wake,” Natasha said
softly, kissing Clint’s lips tenderly.
Nodding in agreement, feeling he had been granted a benediction, Clint yawned
and let his eyes slip shut, snuggling into the bed below him, not even
bothering to cover himself or her. He let her body go, his hands loosely
positioned at her waist but in no way restrictive, her name a last prayer on
his lips as he drifted into morpheus’ arms.
Carefully, Natasha slid out of the newborn’s arms and silently got dressed.
Outside she posted a Beta by the door with a strict order of, “if he wakes,
come get me right away.”
“Yes, Romanov,” the Beta answered formally, taking her guard duty seriously
since the last time someone got through a Beta . . . that had ended in a brutal
de-boning.
Nodding, Natasha hurried to the room which Bucky and Steve shared, knocking on
the hard surface, the redhead waited for one of them to answer.
“Enter,” Steve’s voice sounded, low and soft, denoting the pup would still be
with the mated pair.
Walking into the room, Natasha softly shut the door behind her.
The blond vampyre looked up, Bucky in his arms and the pup in the fledgling
Omega’s supportive grasp. Smiling, Steve nodded to Natasha. “She’s eaten and
now sleeping.” Fortunately, a pup needed straight energy, no sex involved . . .
that would be stomach turning at the least in Steve’s opinion. He’d had to
reassure Bucky of the difference mere minutes ago when Steve showed him how to
feed the new pup.
Softly she said, looking at the pup and then Bucky, “you know a Clint Barton,
yes?”
Eyebrows raising into his hairline, the brunet locks pulled back from his face
by a rope of leather, Bucky nodded, “sure. Great - - uh . . . I mean . . . a
skilled hunter. Hydra tried recruiting him a lot, but he always denied. I
believe he is employed with Shield.”
Nodding, Natasha sat in one of the wooden chairs that were set up around a
small table.
“The scent of imminent death hung around him,” Steve softly said, reaching
around his mate to stroke the sleeping pup’s soft head. “Why did he come here
if he killed the pup’s dam?”
“He didn’t. He came here to save the pup’s life and warn me of an impending
attack by Hydra.” Natasha answered.
“How did he wind up with a four-month pre-pup? She isn’t old enough to have
been whelped . . . she had a month’s growth left, I’m sure.” Steve frowned, his
body loose and non-threatening, but his eyes intense with golden fire.
Bucky hummed softly, leaning back into Steve’s chest, cradling the pup in his
arm. The brunet looked down at the infant and then back over at Natasha.
“He witnessed Hydra attacking the Summers’ house, no survivors aside from the
pup, he brought her here for safety,” she reported looking at the sleeping pup,
seeming content in the Omega’s arm.
“What!” Steve stiffened then forced himself to relax once more, not wanting to
alarm either his pregnant mate or the sleeping pup. “Which Summers house? It
couldn’t have been Alexander’s? He’s the only pregnant Summers I know of
locally.”
Natasha’s eyes softened, “they must be targeting pregnant Omega’s now, the pup
was taken from the womb.”
“Why?” Steve slid his arms more securely around his now two precious bundles.
“Why would they want to kill dams-to-be? They’ve never shown an interest in
them before. And to rip a pup from the womb?” His hand softly covered Bucky’s
abdomen. “That is certain death at most stages of pregnancy. This pup was lucky
she was so well developed, so near whelping.”
“I have sources that report that Hydra have begun to experiment on pups and
newborns, I haven’t been able to go to the facility to confirm but,” she looked
at Steve with intense eyes, “I know where, if they are keeping pups and
newborns, the facility is. I was going to send word for you when Redwing
arrived.”
He hadn’t had time to explain much to Bucky, to prove to the former hunter that
his owners, Hydra, had been worse than even a pack of bloodlusting vampires.
“That was six weeks ago. And you’ve been busy protecting Bucky since, among
your other charges. So, we need someone to confirm the report now?”
“You and Sam still up for covert missions?” Natasha asked.
Bucky stiffened in Steve’s arms.
Looking at his mate, his fledgling, Steve nuzzled the man’s neck and breathed
his sweet Omega scent. “If I do this, Nat, you must swear to keep Bucky with
you as much as possible and only leave him if you must. He’ll need constant
attention, even if he doesn’t need half-hour feedings any more.” Steve had
found it quite difficult, five weeks previously, when the safehouse leader had
ordered him to stop catering to Bucky’s insatiable heats, informing him that to
give in to each demand was akin to spoiling a human child by picking it up
every time it cried. That first time he’d refused Bucky had nearly broken
Steve’s heart as the newborn had gone into such a tantrum of whining and
begging. But now, after five weeks of moderation for them both, Bucky had not
only gone beyond the newborn stage many expected him to be stuck in, the young
Omega had proven a quick study in vampyre culture and lessons as well as a
nurturing mate.
“You have my word, I’ll even leave him with my newborn, that way you know he’ll
be safe,” Natasha promised.
“You converted Clint Barton?” Steve asked, stunned, but not disapproving . . .
he could never be that. His Bucky had a greater vampyr kill record; Clint’s was
mainly geared at Hydra creations.
“I did . . . I offered him a choice and he chose to live,” Natasha answered,
her bright green eyes focusing on the pup again, “now, you two will need to
make a decision. I can have the pup placed with another if you want? Before a
bond is formed?”
“Bucky, do you think you can handle a pre-pup along with your own pup in three
months?” Steve looked down at his mate, trusting Bucky to judge his own
capacity for caring for helpless infants.
Looking down at the sleeping pup, Bucky nodded, “I can handle it, Stevie. She
needs someone to look out for her now.”
Nodding, looking at the safehouse leader, Steve softly, yet firmly, stated,
“we’ll raise her, Natasha, if we’re approved. And if Bucky doesn’t mind, I’d
like to name her Summer, so even though she’ll be a Rogers, she’ll never forget
where she came from.”
Bucky nodded in approval, cradling the innocent pup closer to his chest,
“Summer . . .”
“I think she’ll make a perfect litter-mate for our pup when it’s whelped,
Bucky,” Steve crooned. “But right now, my love, I need to help save others like
her and you. You stay with Nat, please, and Clint.” He deliberately made it a
request, not an order, knowing Bucky responded better to freedom of choice.
Bucky’s pale blue eyes shone with worry, the ‘Winter Soldier’ in him wanting to
argue with his mate, argue to fight alongside Steve. He didn’t particularly
like being expected to stay home, but knew nothing he said would change his
mate’s mind; plus, he could protect Summer here, make sure nothing happened to
her. “You’ll come back, right? Promise me?”
“I promise I will come back,” Steve vowed, kissing his mate’s marked neck,
hoping this mission would go smoothly. He was a trained fighter himself, with
clan enhanced abilities, one of the most dangerous vampyrs around, but Steve
was never cocky enough to think he was invincible.
Natasha stood and nodded, pleased with the outcome, “I will send for Sam, meet
me in the planning room in an hour.”
Nodding, Steve asked, “take the pup. I want to feed Bucky before I go.” The
blond stroked his lover’s neck, kissing softly.
Carefully, Natasha took the pup out of, a reluctant looking, Bucky’s arm.
Rocking the pup gently, the leader nodded at the two men and left the room
soundlessly.
Lifting Bucky’s chin, Steve turned the Omega’s face and sealed his mouth over
Bucky’s. He stroked his cheek. Lifting his lips enough to breath out, “You know
I love you, my Bucky bear,” Steve moved his hand down to caress over the
fledgling's crotch.
Keening, arching into his mate’s touch, Bucky nodded, “I know, Alpha. I . . . I
love you, too.” It was the first time the brunet had admitted his feelings for
his sire.
Eyes widening at the admission, Steve hummed in delighted approval. “Do you
need feeding before I go, my Omega?”
“Please, Stevie, fill me before you go? I wanna feel you even if you aren’t
here,” Bucky purred low.
“How do you want to take me, love? This is your time, your hour.” Steve stroked
Bucky’s hip then moved back to cup his weight through his trousers.
Bucky tugged at Steve’s shirt, attempting to pull the fabric off. He’d gotten
used to walking with the missing weight of his left arm, but he still struggled
with buttons and ties, most the time Steve would have to help him dress.
Obeying the silent demand, Steve pulled his own shirt off followed by Bucky’s.
He unfastened his pants and left them on then reached over and freed Bucky’s
member, sliding his hand under the heavy hang of his lover, hefting his sac in
a calloused palm. “Wanna get naked,” he asked in a thick Brooklyn drawl he’d
long learned to hide.
Bucky groaned as his mate cupped his sac, the flesh buzzing with sensitivity,
“yes, Stevie.” The Omega tugged at his Alpha’s pants.
Lifting his hips, Steve didn’t interfere with Bucky’s actions, allowing him to
do as much work as he was reasonably able. His concession to the Omega’s
handicap was the fastenings the man struggled with, but Steve well know by then
his mate’s thirst for being allowed to do things, to prove his own ability.
Steve felt proud to show Bucky his own confidence in his mate’s prowess.
Completely stripping his mate, Bucky then removed his own trousers. Once both
vampyre’s were nude, the fledgling shifted so that he straddled the Alpha’s
lap. In one fluid motion, Bucky lowered himself down onto Steve’s member until
his ass pressed firmly against the blond’s thighs. The brunet let out a loud
moan at the full feeling, the perfect match.
Letting his head fall back, Steve matched Bucky’s moan with a long, low groan
of his own. The sex with his newborn had been heady and addictive, but the
older Bucky got, the more he advanced each day, the energy exchange felt more
satisfying . . . more perfectly matched. “God, yes, Buck . . . my pretty Omega
. . .” he moaned low, lifting his head to meet Bucky’s gold flame ringed eyes
with his own molten-golden ones.
Rising off his Alpha’s shaft until only the tip rested inside his slick-
moistened passage, Bucky sank back down slowly, teasing his mate with his
torturously slow movements. Again and again, the Omega rose and fell on Steve’s
manhood, each time slower than the last. His lips spread into a wicked grin
when he met the blond’s eyes.
“God, killing me, Buck,” Steve moaned at the delicious drag. He let his hands
rove up over his mate’s beautifully muscled form, caressing over the plains and
valleys of the muscular abs and delts and pecs. Steve’s eyes drank in the sight
of his gorgeous mate, his Bucky.
Continuing his slow rhythm, Bucky keened and leaned forward to lick and nip at
Steve’s neck, wanting to see just how far he could push his lover.
The blond fought to keep still, letting his lover control the pace despite the
maddenly slow pace. Steve wanted his Omega to enjoy this feeding, this mating,
and took a deep breath before using a trick most younger vampyres took decades
to learn: he started pushing energy from his massive manhood without releasing
cum to go with it. A wicked smile to match Bucky’s crossed the blond man’s
beautiful features.
At the unexpected, intense pleasurable sensation deep in his passage, Bucky
moaned obscenely, his pace picking up slightly to chase that incredible
feeling.
“Like that, Buck?” Steve panted at the effort it took to do such a focused
energy push.
“Yes, Alpha . . . yes, God - -” Bucky keened and arched his back, bottoming
Steve out once more. Brunet locks fell from the tie holding them back, framing
the Omega’s face.
“If I concentrate hard, I can give you a massive knot of the stuff that would
send you into a lust-coma for hours,” Steve teased but didn’t act on the
promised threat, leaving it an erotic vow lingering between them.
“Oh, yes, please, Alpha . . . knot me,” Bucky had, unbeknownst to him, begun to
lose the battle he’d started.
“Knot you with just energy? No seed?” Steve continued to tease, keeping himself
still, gathering his strength, his psychic energy, around and into him,
preparing to fulfill that promise.
“Stevie,” Bucky whined, his hips now grinding hard and fast onto the Alpha’s
member, “I want your cum . . . please, Alpha, fill me?”
“Ah, not my energy then,” Steve prodded and slowly tightened his grip on
Bucky’s hips, preparing to thrust hard when the time was right, his balls and
gut aching with his oncoming orgasm.
“Please, Alpha,” Bucky begged, Steve’s erection brushed against the Omega’s
prostate with each and every thrust. The brunet’s untouched member leaked
against his abdomen, Bucky pressed his chest closer to his mate’s, groaning at
the friction the closeness brought onto his erection.
“Tell me which one, Buck? What do you want me to force into you?” Steve blinked
up at Bucky above him, smiling, watching the lust cross those pretty features.
“Need you to fill me with your seed, Stevie, please? I want you to over-fill
me,” Bucky moaned.
Not responding, Steve suddenly thrust his staff hard and deep, upwards,
bottoming out and even pushing Bucky backwards with the force of his thrust. He
came in that single plunge, growling deep as his knot formed while he was
already deeply embedded, locking them in place in a sexual release as hot jets
of cum painted Bucky’s passage, filling him full and still shooting out of
Steve’s pulsing, throbbing member. “God, Bucky! My Bucky!”
Bucky’s eyes widened and he came hard in between them, jets of cum painting
both of their chest as the Omega’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream of
pleasure, his air having been knocked out with that brutal, deep plunge.
Long minutes, almost twenty-seven this time, dragged by as Steve remained
locked in his lover, his member throbbing with each beat of his heart, the full
knot rubbing and tugging at the tight ring of muscle. Steve whimpered with each
sensation, holding Bucky still above and around him, his eyes never leaving the
brunet’s beautiful face.
“You . . . cheated, Alpha. No fair,” Bucky murmured resting his sweaty forehead
against Steve’s shoulder.
“How did I cheat, little Omega?” Steve chuckled softly. “I gave you what you
wanted and only moved the once, at your demand.”
“That energy push . . . felt like I was in heat again,” Bucky grumbled
playfully.
Laughing outright, Steve hummed in pleasure. “Yes, it would make you feel that
way. It’s a clever trick, isn’t it? It takes years to learn to control your
energy into a fine point, and I determined if I could narrow it down to my
mouth or hand, why not another area?” The blond languidly caressed his hand
from Bucky’s now bruised hip and up his back.
“Cheater,” Bucky mumbled and then kissed and lapped at Steve’s shoulder, fangs
scraping against the firm muscle.
Softly groaning, Steve said, “you know, I’m surprised you asked for seed
instead of experimenting with a knot of pure energy, my love.” He grinned
wolfishly at Bucky.
“When you get home,” Bucky answered, blue eyes flickering in worry at the
reminder that Steve would be leaving him for the first time in six weeks to go
look into a dangerous Hydra facility.
Stroking Bucky’s back soothingly, Steve sighed. “If we are running late, Nat
will feed you, Buck. It won’t be the same as with me, but you will eat to keep
up your strength, please?” he requested.
“The other Alpha burned when he touched me, Stevie. He drained me . . . what if
it’s like that with all Alpha’s beside you?” Bucky asked.
“Nat won’t have to touch you, Bucky, so you won’t be hurt,” Steve advised,
smiling softly. “She’s older than I am and was the one who taught me how to
channel my energy, focus it. She can push her energy at you without physical
contact. It won’t satisfy your lust, but it will keep you fed.”
Bucky nodded, his hand rubbed protectively over his abdomen, “you’ll come back,
right, Steve? You’ll come back to us?”
Cupping his mate’s face, Steve kissed him gently. “Bucky, tell me what you
think I am supposed to do on this mission?”
Brows furrowing, Bucky looked at the Alpha, “what do you mean?”
“Do you want to know what she will assign me to do so you know how much danger
I am in while gone?” Steve offered, stroking the man’s cheek. “You are familiar
with Hydra, and you were a hunter so know timing and danger. You’ll know what
I’ll be going into if you hear the mission parameters. Will that help you?”
Bucky nodded, “I’ve been to several facilities . . . I know my way around them,
their weak points. I - - I can help, Steve.” The brunet still had a hard time
believing Hydra was really as bad as everyone said; but he wanted to help his
mate in any way he could.
After his knot released, Steve slid from his mate with a groan then gathered
supplies to clean and tend his lover. He began to dress Bucky in his soft,
comforting clothes, as the blond often did when trying to pamper the other man.
“Steve, we’re going into a meeting for a mission,” Bucky protested the outfit
Steve had chosen; swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, the Omega picked
out a pair of black trousers and a black shirt.
Sighing, Steve nodded, not arguing with his fledgling over the clothing he
could wear. Steve cleaned himself as he kept an eye on Bucky dressing, ready to
help if Bucky wanted it. Steve pulled on a dark grey shirt and matching
trousers, slipping into his soft kid-skin boots and reaching for his dark wool
coat.
Bucky struggled with his trousers but after a few moments the brunet finally
managed to clasp them and he beamed with success. Pulling the shirt over his
head, Bucky slipped on his boots and grabbed his navy blue coat.
Steve smiled with pride at Bucky’s accomplishment. Finally, done with
pretending to keep busy at the wardrobe, Steve turned and looked over the
outerwear Bucky had.
“Would you mind pulling my hair up again? Most of it fell out,” Bucky asked
with smile.
“Or I tugged it out without thinking,” Steve teased. He walked over and took
the rest of the mass down from it’s tie. Grabbing a brush, Steve quickly
neatened his lover’s tresses and bound them up in a neat bun, a silent approval
for the unusual look on the pretty man. “Hmmm . . . you would look extremely
sexy with unfashionably short hair, like mine, Buck.”
Bucky snorted and shook his head, “I like my hair just the way it is, thank you
very much, Alpha,” the brunet teased.
Laughing, Steve nuzzled Bucky’s neck. “I like to hold it when I take you from
behind,” Steve promised in a raunchy whisper.
A shiver of need ran down Bucky’s spine at the promise, a small whimper
breaking past his lips.
With a soft chuckle, Steve slapped Bucky very lightly across his buttocks and
said, “and I thought you had got past your needy newborn stage, my love.” The
blond opened the door and let Bucky lead the way to Natasha’s meeting, mentally
planning what to say to allow the brunet inclusion for information.
Bucky walked a few steps ahead of his Alpha; the Omega didn’t leave the room
very often, a lot of the other vampyres in the safe house still harbored
negative feelings for the ex-hunter. But he needed to go to this meeting; he
needed to help Steve.
A shorter vampyr than the pair walking down the hall stepped from the shadows
of a doorway. His eyes rested solely on Bucky, not noticing the blond several
steps behind. Grinning maliciously, letting his eyes drag lecherously over the
pretty fledgling Omega, the man growled, “finally come up for air, Bucky-bitch?
Have enough cock up your ass for the night?”
The Omega froze mid-step and flinched at the demeaning nickname; Bucky’s
shoulders slumped inward in a defensive huddle, his arm instinctively wrapping
protectively around his abdomen.
Hearing and seeing everything that transpired, Steve bridled, spine stiffening
and shoulders thrown back. He growled low in his throat, a warning rumble of
angry possessiveness. Stepping over, Steve slammed his hand onto the nearest
door, making the other Alpha jump, eyes widening. “How dare you show my
fledgling such disrespect? You were once an Omega, too, you hypocritical cow!”
The blond was so incensed, he was unaware that he’d slammed on the door leading
into Nat’s strategy office.
Opening the door, having heard what had been said with her heightened sense of
hearing, the woman looked at the shorter Alpha, “do we have a problem?”
“No, ma’am,” the man immediately said, but Steve countered with a growl of
“yes!”
“You,” Natasha’s eyes narrowed in the Alpha’s direction, “were not abusing that
Omega, were you? You know that is against our policies, and the next time I
hear such foul words come from your mouth I will let Rogers discipline you. Is
that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the Alpha swallowed and hurried off back into his shadowy room.
Steve continued to growl low, watching the still open doorway the other vampyre
had disappeared through.
“Would you two like to come inside? Sam just arrived a few minutes ago,” Nat
offered as she stepped aside to give the men room to enter.
Finally letting the threatening tone go, Steve slumped slightly and drew a
breath. He looked at Nat. “Please? Bucky wants to hear what kind of mission
I’ll be expected to do. He can use his knowledge to judge how much danger I
might be in.” He guided Bucky in with a hand on the other man’s lower back,
still angry at the humiliation Bucky had felt and still did.
“Of course, he’s your mate,” Natasha nodded and shut the door as they stepped
inside, “Wanda is watching over Summer right now. She has taken quite the
affection to the pup.”
“Will she challenge our claim to the pup?” Steve asked softly, worried that
Bucky’s fledgling stage and pregnancy would act against him if the Maximoff
youth wished to stake claim.
“No, but I do believe you two found a pup-sitter if you ever need a night off,”
Natasha said with a smirk; she gestured to the table in the center of the room,
blueprints and maps scattered across the wooden surface. Sam, with Redwing
perched on his shoulder, looked down at the papers with focused eyes.
Bucky walked over to the table, looking down, “oh . . . this is the warehouse
upstate? Tony Stark funds it . . . I’ve only been there once, a few years
back.” His pale eyes scanned the blueprints, taking in the document as a
soldier would, “I remember there is a entrance on the roof, unguarded but
locked with a chain. Thought it was stupid, a vampyre could easily break that
chain.”
Steve nodded as Bucky instructed them then glanced at Sam. “What do you think,
Wilson? Rooftops are your highway.”
Sam tapped the drawn map of the surrounding area, the massive warehouse was
surrounded by nothing but forest, one side backed up against a large river.
“Should be easy to land on. No surrounding buildings to see our approach.”
“And this is supposed to be where they are keeping newborns and pups, Romanov?”
Steve asked, studying the layout, memorizing the blueprints as he studied them,
a true soldier in his own right despite his claims to never have ‘been captain
of anything, ship or army.’
“Supposedly,” Natasha nodded; she pointed at the far left corner of the
warehouse, on the blueprints it looked to be a large empty room, “this is where
they are locked up in between experiments,” she moved to tap her nail on
another room down the hall, “this is where the experiments are taking place,”
looking at Bucky she asked, “ever seen this part of the warehouse?”
Bucky shook his head, “no, I was only permitted in the right wing, it was for a
training exercise.”
“Makes you wonder just how they’ve managed to fool Stark this long. No human in
his right mind would support Hydra monetarily if it knew the funds were going
to this type of place.” Steve snorted in disgust, shaking his head.
“Stark funds anything and anyone that works to eradicate the vampyre race,
Steve. That man is desperate for revenge, dangerously so,” Bucky shook his
head.
“So, he was also told vampyres wiped out is family? Hydra is quick to assign us
the crimes of any murder.” Steve straightened. “When can you be ready, Sam? I’d
like to get this over with.”
“Actually,” Natasha cut in, “I was thinking Bucky could join you for this one.”
Mouth dropping open, Steve turned his gold-ringed blue eyes on the safehouse
leader. “He’s a new fledgling and pregnant . . .” Steve protested with the only
two claims he could honestly make.
“But he also knows the specs of the warehouse, the surrounding area, and has
inside knowledge of the workings of Hydra,” Natasha looked up at Steve with a
raised brow.
“He’s erratic, dangerous on a mission,” Sam piped up, brown eyes hardening.
Frowning, Steve instinctively came to his mate’s defense, “he hasn’t been
erratic for five weeks, since he left newborn stage, Sam.”
“And you can one-hundred percent guarantee that he won’t lose control, Steve?
We can’t risk an emotionally compromised, pregnant Omega in the field. It’s too
dangerous,” Sam snapped, Redwing ruffled his feathers and squawked in tune with
Sam’s anger.
“I . . .” Steve looked at Bucky then frowned and looked at Natasha. “I’m not
the one recommending him, Sam. Romanov is.” The blond sounded unhappy.
“You guys do know I’m literally standing right here,” Bucky grumbled, eyes
narrowed as he looked at his mate and then Sam.
Surprised by the obviousness of the statement, Steve glanced at his lover. “Of
course, Bucky, why wouldn’t we?”
“I’m not some little bitch that needs to be handled,” Bucky growled, arm
crossing in front of his chest.
“What! Bucky! I never, ever referred to you in such demeaning terms!” Steve
frowned fiercely. “You’re a fledgling and pregnant, but you’re a capable,
independent, clever man. Or you wouldn’t have been so valuable to Hydra.”
“That’s right, I was valuable to Hydra. I know how they work, their shift
patterns. I even know that there is an underground tunnel that leads under the
river that we could use to get any pups or newborns, if they really are there,
out to safety. But the tunnels are a maze, that’s what my training was for.
They used the same pattern in all their tunnels that way only Hydra operatives
know the way out.” Bucky had straightened and he looked so much like the
confident hunter that he’d been six weeks ago.
“That would be valuable,” Steve reluctantly admitted and glanced to Sam. He
fought the tightening in his chest, of pride and lust, at seeing the old
confident swagger in Bucky’s attitude.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Fine. But I’m not responsible for
him,” the entire time the dark-skinned man hadn’t even offered a glance in the
ex-hunter’s direction.
With a shake of his head, Steve crossed his arms. “I take Bucky with me to
secure that tunnels and get as many as we can. Sam, you take the sky and see if
you can find out anything else about their plans, their attack schedule
perhaps? If Hydra is planning on hitting the houses, we might be able to get a
rotation in order to protect but not overload each family.”
Sam nodded, “Okay. I’m ready whenever you are, Steve.”
“Bucky?” Steve frowned and turned to his mate. “When you’re ready?” He hated
having to bring the fledgling with them, but he would not defy Natasha. If she
felt Bucky could do this, Steve would stick by the younger vampyre
protectively, but would allow him to accompany them and guide the to that
tunnel.
Looking at his Alpha, eyes hardening with determination, Bucky nodded, “I’m
ready.”
***** Of Torture and Loss *****
Bucky ran next to his mate, easily making his way through the thick forested
area. He had thought it would’ve been hard to keep up with Steve’s pace but,
surprisingly, he managed the task with ease. The brunet looked up and could
make out the faint outline of Sam flying high above the treetops, Redwing
soaring close by.
Glancing over his shoulder to check that Bucky still was there on his left,
Steve slipped into the deeper darkness along the thick edge of the treeline,
pausing to study the night-shrouded structure hidden in the vast clearing.
Glancing to the sky, watching for Sam’s signal, Steve reached out silently to
brush a worried hand over Bucky’s right wrist then retracted that questing
hand, reassured for the moment.
Sam landed on the roof, and just as Bucky had informed, the area was unguarded.
The vampyre looked to the ground below him and saw two Hydra guards circling
the property. Perching himself on the ledge of the building, Sam waited until
both guards intersected paths before jumping down, landing on both humans with
a sickening crack. Both men were dead before they hit the ground.
Nodding, Steve didn’t even glance at his fledgling. “Time,” he whispered and
rushed towards the door they’d determined to be their best point of entrance.
Twisting the knob in his over-strong hand, Steve broke the lock easily and
pushed the door silently open, peering in before stepping inside and allowing
his mate to follow. Immediately, the stench of bodily waste, stale blood, and
heavy fear slammed over Steve like a foul, smothering blanket; he held back the
choking gurgle he wanted to emit.
Bucky scrunched his nose in disgust, looking around, his body crouched
slightly, ready for a sudden attack; the brunet saw rows of small cages. Most
were open, blood and waste staining the inside of the metal enclosures. “What
the hell?” The brunet muttered, eyes wide and disbelieving at sight in front of
him.
“Storage pens,” Steve growled softly, pulling out a pair of large kerchiefs. He
tied one around Bucky’s neck, fixing it so he could breathe through the cloth.
Then the blond similarly covered his own nose and mouth, breathing the muted
scent with some small relief. The vampyre met his mate’s eyes over the edge of
the cloth, his face harder to identify, harder to read half covered as it was.
The Omega stepped further into the room, looking into each and every pen to
check for any survivors. He couldn’t understand what was happening; they had
been right: Hydra was an evil organization. Storing pups and newborns like they
were nothing more than livestock . . . and he’d had a direct helping hand in
supporting this.
Mirroring his mate’s actions, Steve rounded the opposite edge of the storage
room, checking for anyone that may have lived through the horror written in the
lingering stench. They had no time to honor the already dead this mission, but
on this quest of mercy, Steve planned to do everything he could for the poor
victims of the deranged mixed-cult of humans, vampyre rogues, and foul
creations.
A small shuffling in the back corner drew Steve’s attention and he abandoned
his methodical review to check this promising lead. Careful of entrapment,
Steve made his way to the corner cage, smaller than half than the others, in
which the figure of a teenaged human female has been stuffed, almost painfully
jammed, in. Drawing back his lip in a silent snarl of disapproval, Steve calmed
his features and reached over to break the clumsy lock from the barred door. He
opened the door with a soft swing on surprisingly well-tended hinges.
Cooing softly, Steve whispered, “hello, lovey, I’m am here now. You are safe,
my pet . . .”
Hearing his mate’s voice, Bucky’s head snapped up from where he had been
looking into a cage and gasped softly at the sight of the blond standing in
front of an occupied cage.
Steve knelt by the cage, trying to coax the young woman from her tight
confines, hearing Bucky’s approach but ignoring it for the moment. He kept up
the soft, loving string of gentle names, hoping to entice her to him so he
could check her wounds and age . . . she might yet be a pup even with her full
woman’s scent. Human teens often had mixed scents. “That’s my good girl, my
pet. Here I am. I’ve come for you to keep you safe . . .” He pulled down the
covering kerchief to show his gentle features to the girl, knowing many found
his beautiful, soft face deceptively trustworthy, despite the beard.
The girl looked at Steve with wide eyes, her whole body trembling and covered
in various bruises and burns. Her dirty, bloody feet were bare and she wore
only a thin, ratty cotton dress that had been ripped and soiled. “Help . . . me
. . .” she whispered, her voice raspy with disuse and screaming.
“I can help you,” Steve offered, sensing how far gone this girl really was. Not
only was her mind close to snapping from the horrors she’d endured, he could
sense that her body was close to true, final collapse. The lone survivor was in
the process of dying. Steve held out his hand. “Let me save you, give you life
. . .” He prayed Bucky would be understanding of this poor soul’s need for
Steve’s offer of conversion.
“Oh my God,” Bucky stumbled back as the young woman reached out with a shaky
hand and scooted into the moonlight, her face finally visible. “Becca?” The
Omega’s eyes widened as he took in the battered sight. He hadn’t seen his baby
sister in over a decade, close to thirteen years, but he looked at the picture
he had of his family every single day. She was older now, malnourished, but
this was Becca.
“Becca?” Steve refused to frown his confusion, rather offering an encouraging
smile to the woman. “Your name is Becca?” He didn’t know what kind of
relationship Bucky had with the young woman, but he’d puzzle it out later.
Right now, he intended to save Bucky’s friend, yet another friend to spare from
his lover’s first life. “Becca, will you let me save you? Give you life?”
“Help . . . me . . .” Becca repeated, voice weaker and her pale blue eyes
unfocused as she collapsed into Steve’s arms.
Nodding, taking the repeated plea as the permission he sought, Steve began to
unfasten his pants, and slide them down. “Buck? Help me? She can’t do this and
she has little time . . .” Steve quickly unbuttoned his own shirt.
Bucky shook his head, stepping back further, his feet dragging against the
concrete flooring. Becca was dead. That’s what Pierce had told him. Becca had
been murdered by blood-suckers.
Not having time to spare for coaxing his mate into helping aid the broken
woman, Steve merely finished pulling off his clothing and slid over to the
woman. He tugged her dress up and over her foul, ratted and dirt encrusted
head, dropping gentle kisses to her cracked, bleeding lips. Converting a broken
body was truly unpleasant, but Steve found the desire necessary to aid the poor
soul relying on him, once more imaging that it was Bucky he loved back to life
instead.
Steve lined up and slid into the young woman, keeping his eyes locked with
hers. “That’s it, my pet. Good girl, Becca . . .”
Bucky gripped his hair tightly, eyes squeezing shut. He’d been here in this
very building. Had Becca been here this whole time? Had Hydra, an organization
he’d willingly worked to support, been torturing his baby sister for nearly
thirteen years? He was no better than the blood-suckers that killed their
parents; he was responsible for the horrors his sister had gone through.
Thrusting long and deep, knowing she didn’t have the time for him to be gentle,
Steve continued to kiss Becca’s mouth, breathing life-giving energy into the
young woman. He caressed her breasts, trying to stimulate her with the gentle
touch as he all but rutted on her, trying to bring himself and her closer to
orgasm before she expired from the effort. Even Bucky had not been this far
gone when Steve attempted conversion.
Redwing’s loud coo echoed throughout the warehouse, signaling that his master
had gotten the information needed and that the guard shift was changing. They
were out of time.
Ripping his mouth from the woman below him, Steve turned his head and grunted
as he thrust, “Buck, go to Sam. Tell him I need help with her. Now.” He hated
compelling the fledgling, but apparently Bucky was too overcome with horror
over his friend’s state. That could endanger the young vampyre. Steve turned
back to meet the teenage woman’s eyes and offer her a smile, running his hand
over her dirty, greasy, bloody hair. “Good girl, my pet. I want you to cum for
me, lovey. Let me give you my life-seed . . .”
Stumbling to follow the order, Bucky felt a sudden, excruciating cramping in
his abdomen. The pain was worse than when Steve had first entered him. The
Omega let out an agonized scream as he collapsed to his knee. His mind,
however, continued to force his body to follow his sire’s order.
Hearing his mate’s pain, his agony, Steve felt torn. He couldn’t stop now to
help Bucky, but something must have attacked the former hunter, the fledgling
vampyre. “Buck?” Steve called, desperately thrusting in and out of the
compliant woman. He needed to bring release sooner and so reached down between
them to fondle his own heavy sac, encouraging the build up to orgasm by
stroking his over-sensitive pleasure zone.
Crawling for a few steps, before scrambling back to his feet, Bucky gripped his
waist as another painful wave of cramps rushed through his body. The Omega
collapsed again, this time using his arm to drag himself closer to the door,
his legs trembling too much to be of use. The pain was excruciating, like
nothing he’d ever felt before, something was wrong.
Steve threw his head back and let out a desperate series of trilling notes, a
bird call used by his friend’s clan to signal emergency and intense danger.
Then the blond dropped his face into the foul-smelling, festering wounded neck
of the woman and shouted out his release as he buried himself balls deep in her
welcoming, if trembling, flesh. Her answering orgasm drew tears to his eyes,
and Steve finally felt hot ropes of life-seed slam into the woman, renewing
her, rebirthing her as his energy filled her. As a white heat flashed over his
mind briefly, Steve could only hope that Sam listened to his distress call and
came for Bucky.
Sam rushed back into the warehouse; he first saw Bucky, clawing at the floor in
his feeble attempt to drag his body across the length of room. The Omega’s
nails were chipped and the ex-hunter whimpered at the sight of Sam.
“Steve . . . he needs - -” Bucky gasped and curled into a ball as the cramps
tightened his abdomen to near black-out levels, “help . . . now.”
Lifting his head from the healing woman’s neck, knowing he had to stay through
the complete conversion, Steve panted out, “take care of Bucky, Sam. He’s hurt,
but I don’t know how . . .”
The dark-skinned man nodded and knelt down next to the shaking Omega, without a
word he lifted Bucky into his arms. “We need to get out of here, Steve! The
guards will be coming this way soon.”
“And, tell Nat, need a surrogate as soon as possible,” he ground out without
lifting his face, shuddering as he felt the woman healing around him and below
him. “Almost there, Sam . . . she’s almost . . .” at the sudden feeling of heat
from the woman Steve pulled himself free and grabbed her up into his arms,
rising, once more devoid of his wardrobe.
Bucky clutched at his abdomen and let out another strained scream that tapered
off into a whimper as the pain increased with another cramp.
The large blond wanted so much to exchange burdens with Sam but until a
surrogate was found, and Sam was not qualified or sanctioned for such a duty,
Steve could not let the newborn out of his arms. “Let’s go,” he growled out,
desperation tinging his tone as he eyed his injured lover in another Alpha’s
arms, the unconscious woman in his own barely a weight to the strong vampyre.
“Alpha . . .” Bucky cried out as Sam began to move out of the warehouse; the
vampyre headed out the door they had come in, not wanting to risk the tunnels
without Bucky able to guide them.
“I’m here, my Omega,” Steve cooed to his mate, stepping as close as he could
without tripping Sam. He shifted Becca awkwardly and reached out to stroke
Bucky’s cheek. “Right beside you, my love, my Bucky.” He easily kept up with
the grounded flier, though he kept having to drop back when they passed through
narrower areas.
“The pup . . .” Bucky muttered before another wave of cramps finally pulled him
under, eyes rolling back, and he fell completely lax in Sam’s arms.
Worry filled Steve and he could feel Bucky’s worry, his fear and the pain that
ran through the brunet. Grief welled equally in Steve and he nodded, choking,
“I know, my love. I know . . .” Knowing Bucky was in blissful unconsciousness,
Steve continued speaking anyway. “I know you’ve lost our pup, love . . .”
Once outside, Sam looked around, frowning at the lack of guards.
“Fly him home, Sam? Please? I’ll catch up as soon as I can. She’ll wake for
another feeding soon . . .” Steve headed for the trees, hoping to shield them
from the sight of searching Hydra soldiers, choking on his grief and fear for
Bucky.
Nodding, Sam shot up into the sky; the vampyre knew that separating the mates
at such a perilous time would weaken them both but he knew that Bucky needed to
be seen as soon as possible. A miscarriage could kill an Omega, especially one
as young as Bucky. They needed to remove the dead pup or Bucky could risk
infection, an energy drain that a young fledgling would have no hopes of
surviving.
Clint looked up as Sam carried the injured fledgling into Natasha’s room, eyes
sleep-fuzzed and drooping. He could smell the trauma and it made him curl
defensively away from the pair. “Tasha . . .” he whimpered instinctively, the
newborn frightened and confused by these new, overwhelming scents. “I smell
death . . .”
Natasha shot to her feet from the chair she’s been sitting in as she’d watched
her newborn rest. Looking at the injured Omega with wide eyes, she rushed over,
“Sam? What happened?!”
“Miscarriage,” Sam said bluntly, actual grief unexpectedly lacing his cold
tone. “Steve needs a surrogate sent to the compound . . . a strong one. The
newborn must have been a difficult conversion.”
“Lay him on the bed,” Natasha ordered and turned to look at Clint, “darling,
can you get up for me?”
Nodding, not even glancing at the cowering newborn, Sam slid the unconscious
fledgling on the bed beside Clint.
Not needing to be asked twice, Clint bound from the bed and into the corner
behind Natasha’s chair, curling into a protective ball and watching her with
green-ringed storm grey eyes.
Natasha hurried out of the room to quickly find a surrogate to send to Steve.
Clint let out a whimper of shock and fear but made no move to leave his corner,
wanting to be where he thought his sire could find him on her return. Sam
wisely didn’t approach the newborn, not wanting to add to the sense of threat
for the confused former hunter . . . another converted hunter of all things.
After completing the task, Natasha returned to the room, a sharp blade in her
hands. As Bucky began to stir, the red-haired vampyre looked to Sam, “hold him
down. We have to get the pup out.”
Nodding, Sam crawled onto the bed and lay down, pulling Bucky on top of him so
he could wrapped his strong legs around Bucky’s thighs, his arms pinning
Bucky’s one arm to his side, leaving the fledgling exposed above him, acting as
a sort of table below the man. Normally it was a very impractical solution, but
Sam had a feeling the young Omega would be incredibly strong upon waking and
realization of the loss. Without someone to help in the holding, Sam had to use
every muscle he had.
Natasha approached the bed, she pulled up the Omega’s shirt, the small round
pup-bump visible.
“Natasha?” Clint whispered from his corner, eyes wide. “Should . . . I help?”
he offered, every word a struggle past his fear and confusion, the man’s innate
kindness shining through the trauma.
“Yes, darling,” Natasha said, “come help Sam hold his legs.”
Pulling himself up with great trepidation, Clint flung himself onto the bed,
and lay across Bucky’s legs, allowing Sam to pull out from below and hold the
fledgling’s torso and arm down more naturally. Clint buried his face in the
mattress, inhaling the traces of his sire’s scent mixed with the scent of their
loving, trying to block out the nauseating death and decay scents.
“Alpha?” Bucky whimpered, eyes opening as he looked up at Sam.
“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered as she lowered the blade to begin the painful
process of removing the pup.
Sam lifted his head and let out the whistle he’d taught Wanda meant “come
here”. “We could use her gifts, Romanov,” he said.
Wanda and Pietro hurried inside the room at the call, Wanda’s eyes wide at the
sight before them.
Darcy, following her fledgling and his sister, stopped in the doorway and
frowned. “Pietro, come back here,” she ordered, knowing the young vampyre
should not witness what was to come. She recognized that knife and knew Bucky
was with pup but too early for proper whelping. Her young Beta hurried back to
the hall with a fierce frown.
Wanda stepped into the room, just as Bucky began to fight against the grips
holding him down. “No! Alpha! Steve!” The Omega wailed, screaming and thrashing
against Sam and Clint’s hold.
Suddenly, a flash of pale skin and near-platinum hair and Steve was sinking to
the bed at Bucky’s head, reaching over to stroke his forehead and drop a kiss
on the pale, sweaty flesh. He met his Omega’s eyes, his energy very drained
from his over-use of his powers, but he’d made it in time. “I am here, my
Omega. I am here, my Bucky bear.”
Bucky, blinded by his panic and grief, continued to thrash, letting out
agonized screams, “my pup! It’s hurt!”
“They have to remove it to help,” Steve temporized, not fully explaining, his
voice soothing. He stroked Bucky’s head, holding his eyes. “I am here, my
love.”
Wanda stepped to the bed and placed her hands on each of Bucky’s temples, her
eyes flashed red and then the injured Omega fell unconscious once more.
Steve sobbed at that and let his head fall, touching foreheads with his injured
mate, grieving for their loss. “I know, my love,” he whispered.
Clint whimpered from his position over Bucky’s legs, face still buried
desperately in the mattress. That small noise brought Steve back to his senses
for a moment and he lifted his head. “Thank you for his help, but for god’s
sake, get the newborn out of here!”
“Clint,” Natasha ordered calmly, “go out in the hall with Darcy and Pietro.”
From the hall, where Darcy hadn’t forced Pietro to leave, the Beta woman
called, “I’ll take him, Natasha. I’ll bring him to meet the other newborn . . .
T’Challa said her name’s Becca?” Darcy led the stocky blond, who obeyed his
sire without protest and went to the normally bubbly stranger.
As the trio disappeared down the hall, Steve lowered his head once more,
forehead to Bucky’s. He groaned out, “a friend of Bucky’s, I think. He called
her Becca then . . . then this happened . . .”
Natasha lowered the blade again, slicing through the Omega’s flesh with steady,
practiced hands. She made quick work of removing the pup from the womb; right
away she noticed something wrong with the remains, “Steve . . . the pup
would’ve been still-born.”
“Still born?” Steve lifted his face, misery in his tear-washed eyes. “Why? What
is wrong with it? How is it hurt?”
“It never developed a brain, only a stem cord,” Natasha reported.
Stunned, Steve looked towards the beautiful pup with the oddly deformed head
and nodded. He cuddled Bucky to him and whispered, “I’ll need help healing him.
I spent too much energy on Becca then getting here, Nat . . .”
Nodding, Natasha gently wrapped the dead pup in a towel.
Sam eased off the unconscious Omega and held his hands out. “I will guard it
until they can tend it, Natasha,” he offered softly. Silently offering to do
the preservation rituals as well to prevent decay before the pair were ready to
mourn their loss properly.
Carefully, Natasha handed the remains to Sam and then took a steadying breath.
Sam left the room, leaving Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Wanda only as he eased
the door shut quietly.
Steve slid behind Bucky, pulling his mate to him. He slid his flaccid member
between Bucky’s cheeks, pulling the Omega’s trousers down to provide the
contact. He didn’t enter the man, just nuzzled alongside his entrance, an
intimate, loving contact of reassurance should the injured fledgling awake.
“Ready, Natasha,” Steve whimpered as he kissed Bucky’s mate mark and willed
some energy into his mate sharing what little he could spare as his friend took
the lion’s share of the burden.
Closing her eyes she began to expand her energy, sharing it with the injured,
dangerously weak Omega. The open wound slowly began to knit back together, and
after a few long moments, all that remained on Bucky’s skin was a faint, silver
scar.
Tears freely flowed down Steve’s dirty cheeks and he cuddled his mate to him.
“Thank you, Natasha, thank you,” the blond breathed, feeling the returning
strength. Now, he could only hope that Bucky would not lose his mind in the
grief.
“He will rest for the remainder of the evening, Steve,” Wanda said softly.
Nodding, trusting her like never before, Steve eased off the bed and moved to
the wash station, pumping water into the basin so he could begin cleaning them
up. He shook with the effort, near the end of his own reserves, needing rest as
much as his mate. “T’Challa was a wise choice for surrogate, Natasha,” Steve
breathed. “He arrived just before her second feeding so I didn’t risk too
strong a bond with her.” Steve moved over to Bucky to wash him first, as
always.
Opening her eyes, Natasha looked down at the Omega on the bed, even his chipped
and broken nails were healed. Bucky simply appeared to be sleeping, despite the
trauma he’d just experience.
Stroking gently as he bathed his mate, Steve whimpered softly. “I thought he
was freaking out because his friend was hurt, so I ordered him to get Sam to
help me. I didn’t know he was miscarrying . . .” The blond shook his head,
shuddering and trying to hold back his sob of shame and grief.
Sighing, Natasha said, “I am sorry, Steve. I should have never suggested he
join you and Sam on the mission.”
“The mission went perfectly smoothly,” Steve said, almost bitterly. “No one met
us, no traps or hidden weapons. We were in, found the one and only survivor,
and even got out in time.”
“We will discuss that later, Steve,” Natasha said and looked over to Wanda.
Finishing washing the dirt and filth from Bucky, as well as removing the rest
of his clothing, Steve sighed and stepped back to the sink to clean himself of
all traces of that foul mission and Becca’s conversion. Pulling absently at the
only remaining cloth he wore, the kerchief around his neck, Steve blinked then
dropped the material to the heap of filthy, destroyed clothing. He crawled back
into bed next to Bucky and pulled the Omega close, burying the other man’s face
into a broad, muscular shoulder.
“We will let you two rest,” Natasha said, motioning for Wanda to follow her out
the room.
“I heard once that bringing another new pup may heal the grieving dam?” Steve
glanced over with misery-streaked eyes. “Summer?”
“We’ll bring her to him when he wakes,” Natasha nodded and opened the door.
With a nod, Steve finally settled to sleep, encircled protectively around his
mate.
The ensuing week passed by, torturously slow for all those close to the
grieving couple. Bucky, after he woke, had been transferred back into his and
Steve’s room. True to her word, Natasha had brought in Summer after the Omega
had gotten settled.
Without a word Bucky had taken the precious, sleeping bundle and cradled her
close to his chest. The Omega had remained calm, eerily so, as he began to hum
the soft lullaby his mother used to sing to him and then to Becca.
Even after a week, the Omega hadn’t said a word, not to Steve, not to anyone.
He just continued to rock the pup in his arm and hum that sweet, beautiful
lullaby; she lessened the ache in his chest slightly, but the brunet feared the
emptiness in him would never truly go away.
The fledgling never fully fed, only leeched off of his mate’s gentle touches.
He felt weak, tired, broken; he barely had enough energy to keep himself
upright and feed Summer. He sat up in the bed, the pup in his arm squirmed and
let out a shrill cry, Bucky begun to hum again and rock her in a soothing
motion.
Steve walked slowly into the room, stopping in the doorway to watch the pair, a
small bundle wrapped in a decorative blanket in his hands. He’d been talking
extensively with the Alphas who worked in the safehouse: about how to help
Bucky. Most of them had been angered and mulishly silent at first; no one
wanted to help the man who had killed so many of their kind. But, eventually,
Steve had dared to approach the silent, almost forbidden, presence of Natasha's
co-leader, T’Challa, the Alpha who had become surrogate for Becca.
He had learned several things in the one enlightening conversation. First,
though it barely registered as something worth bothering about in face of his
mate’s grief, was that Becca was Bucky’s little sister. She had opened up under
her sire’s gentle guidance and what she’d told the older vampyre had been . . .
scarring to say the very least.
More importantly, Steve had learned two tricks for helping Bucky through this
process of grief, things he hadn’t needed to know before. Taking a soft, but
deep breath, Steve stepped into the bedroom and approached his mate. He sank
onto the mattress beside his love and gently said, “may I hold her, Buck?”
Bucky stopped humming midway through the song; dark circles under his eyes
stood out against his paler than normal skin. Reluctantly, the traumatized
Omega handed the pup over to his Alpha without a word.
Carefully he placed the tiny girl, the pre-pup whelped too soon by force, onto
his great thighs, a supportive, protective weigh that cradled her. Steve turned
to his lover and slid the tinier bundle into Bucky’s arm. He used one hand to
steady his mate, not allowing him to pull back or push away, and unfolded the
shroud to reveal the preserved little pre-pup that had died that night.
“Our other daughter, Bucky. Here’s our other daughter, love.” T’Challa had
insisted Bucky had to know, had to let go that bond, and Steve agreed. “She’s
beautiful . . .” If Bucky came to his senses, he would see what was so evident
. . . and know that it had been through no one’s fault they’d lost this
precious life.
Looking down at the still pup in his arm, Bucky’s eyes trailed over the
remains; he focused on the malformed shape of the girl’s head. After a few long
minutes, the Omega let out a single broken sob.
Steve carefully wrapped the pup in Bucky’s arm. “We need to interr her, love,
give her a final place to rest. Can you do that?”
Bucky held the pup closer, his eyes closing and tears beginning to trail down
his cheeks. The aching in his chest intensified, the hollow, empty feeling
making him cry out again.
Steve wrapped one strong arm around his grieving mate and asked, “would you
name her, Bucky? And all our future pups?”
The Omega leaned into his mate’s side, gasping between body-wrenching sobs, “it
. . . hurts . . .” his voice was raspy with disuse and thick emotion.
“Yes,” Steve curled his Omega closer, one hand gently guiding the other man’s
head to his shoulder, turning his face enough to catch Steve’s scent. “We’ll
always hurt for our pup, Bucky.” He specifically used words to show Bucky that
he, too, felt their loss. That Bucky was not alone in his love and pain.
“I’m sorry . . . I’m - -” Bucky’s sentence was cut off by another painful cry.
“I’m not,” Steve said, the words coming out soft despite their oddness. “I
wouldn’t want to not have created our pup with you. I wouldn’t have wanted you
to bear her all the way only to lose her then. I wouldn’t want to lose you due
to the trauma and life-drain that comes from having a full-term stillbirth,
Bucky. By going on that rescue mission, by saving your sister, Becca saved your
life, too.” He slipped his hand under Bucky’s chin and lifted it. “It hurts,
God knows it hurts. But by going through that trauma, you are now still alive
to raise our other pup, Summer, and to let me love you, and to help guide your
baby sister in her new life.” His blues eyes were ringed in golden fire as he
looked at his mate.
“Winnie . . . can we name her Winnie?” Bucky gasped out softly.
Steve gave Bucky a small smile and nodded his approval. “I think Winnie is a
beautiful name for our little girl, Buck. I’ll make sure Romanov’s best stone
carver engraves it with care.” He kissed the Omega’s temple, a lingering touch
which he concentrated a gentle push of energy into, feeding his love a bit at a
time.
Bucky nodded weakly, a soft whimper echoing in the room; his fingers brushed
over the soft material of the blanket that Winnie was wrapped in.
Now came the harder part, as if that hadn’t been delicate and uncertain enough.
Steve lifted his lips and said, gently, “Sam Wilson wishes to let Winnie keep
his brother’s blanket, if you agree? I could get her a new one if you’d
rather.” T’Challa had informed him that Bucky had to know who had provided for
their pup’s body, and Steve hoped that knowing would allow Bucky to realize
that he had another friend in the safehouse, an unexpected one, but another
nonetheless.
“No . . . it’s perfect,” Bucky said quietly, looking down at the bundle again.
“He asked, as well, Buck, if you have a special place you wish to interr her.
He offered the Wilson tomb, but there are others, too. I have one, but it’s
empty so far. It’s in our house.” A house Bucky had never been to yet, since
Steve kept him safely here. Bucky needed to keep facing reality, to not be
allowed to backslide into that grief once more.
“She’s a Rogers, Steve . . . maybe - -” Bucky took a deep, shaky breath, “maybe
we can move into the house. Start our family . . . that way she wouldn’t be
alone?”
Smiling, Steve kissed his lover again, pushing more energy into him. “Yeah, I’d
like that. Our house is in Brooklyn, Buck. And it’s pretty nice. Crown Heights,
it ain’t,” he purposely let his accent out.
Sniffling softly, Bucky nodded, nuzzling into the crook of Steve’s neck. “She
needs to rest now, Stevie.”
“Do you want to do the Ceremony of Rest right now, Buck? We can. Any time you
want.” Steve offered a smile, gentle and loving, stroking Bucky’s matted hair.
“Yes, I have kept her here long enough . . . it’s time for her to go to sleep,”
Bucky stated, his tone already strengthening with the contact of his Alpha.
Steve stroked again and said, in a reassuring tone, “You needed her, Buck, she
understands. A pup always understands her dam.”
“Can we move into the house soon? I - - I don’t like it here, Steve,” Bucky
admitted softly; he knew he’d always be treated with open hostility at the
safehouse; not that the Omega blamed the vampyres, he was responsible for so
many deaths of their kind, after all. However, that didn’t mean he wanted to
raise Summer in a house full of vampyres that hated her adoptive dam.
“I’ll ask Natasha to send people with us to clean. I’ll let you order them and
everything. We’ll reopen the house tonight, within the hour if you wish.” The
man reached his free hand carefully over and gently eased the bundle from his
mate’s arm. He transferred the live pup there instead. “And you will lay our
pup to rest before sun-up.” Steve whispered in Bucky’s ear, “I’ll make sure she
sends T’Challa and Becca, Darcy and Pietro, Wanda and Sam, he’s here you know.
He never left after he brought you here safe for me.”
Rocking the live pup gently, Bucky nodded, his eyes were still shining with
tears but they no longer spilled. “Thank you, Alpha,” the brunet said softly.
Slowly, balancing the small bundle in one arm, Steve urged Bucky to stand. “Do
you want to clean up here or wait until we’ve reopened the house, Bucky?” He
smiled and kissed his lover’s temple, infusing more gentle energy, signaling he
did not find the other man’s barely clean, very mussed, state offensive. Steve
knew why Bucky was in that state, after all; the Omega had barely tolerated the
limited cleaning the Alpha could put him through for hygienics.
Standing shakily, Summer cradled protectively against his chest, Bucky nodded,
“I need to get clean . . . it’ll help.”
Approvingly, Steve nodded. “I’ll let you bathe yourself and Summer, Bucky,
while I arrange the transfer with Natasha. If I do it for you, we’ll never get
to the house.” He let the softly erotic statement behind as he slipped, smiling
for his lover, into the hall.
T’Challa stood a few doors down, Becca standing close to his side, “How is your
Omega, Steve?”
Looking directly at the other, older, vampyre, Steve offered a tremulous smile
of gratitude. “He’s perking up and wishes to move to our house tonight and lay
our Winnie to rest there. Will you come to help us get it ready?” He didn’t
mention the last piece of advice the other Alpha had given him for helping
Bucky; putting another pup in Bucky’s belly would have to come at a more
natural pace than forcing him to face the death of the pup.
“Winnie?” Becca gasped softly, green-ringed pale blue eyes widening slightly.
“Would you like to see your niece, Becca?” Steve offered softly, stepping over
to the newborn . . . or was she now a fledgling? He hadn’t been keeping track
of her progress during Bucky’s traumatized state.
Becca looked up at her surrogate sire; T’Challa simply nodded once to show his
approval.
Steve didn’t hand over the bundle; it wasn’t his right to offer others to hold
Winnie. That was the right of the dam, Bucky, even in the death state. Steve
would not disrespect his mate so much, even if Bucky still didn’t know it was
disrespect. Sam’s care had been different, entrusting a friend with the bundle
for keeping. Now, that was Bucky’s domain.
Pulling back the blanket, he showed the teenaged vampyre the little pre-pup.
Death was a natural part of life, even with the long lives the vampyre could
enjoy, and they made a point never to hide it or shroud it in shame. This pup
was theirs, and Steve was proud to let others know of the love that had formed
her. It had been Bucky’s newborn state which had, in all probability, been the
ultimate problem, though Steve wasn’t certain of that and didn’t dare ask.
Leaning forward to look at the pup, Becca smiled softly and said, “she’s
beautiful. He named her after our mother, you know?” She looked up at Steve.
“I didn’t know that yet,” Steve smiled with soft pride and lingering grief.
“But I can’t think of a better name . . . except Sarah, my own mother’s, but I
think Winnie is perfect for our first born.”
T’Challa smiled gently at Steve, “go now, Steve. Prepare for the ceremony. I
will round up the group to ready your house.”
Nodding, Steve glanced back at the door behind which he’d left Bucky to prepare
himself and their adoptive pup. Softly, in a hush for daring suggest such a
thing, Steve asked, “wouldn’t it be nice to form a safehouse that isn’t full of
hate? A house of our own?” The blond vampyre shook himself and nodded. “You
know where the house is? Romanov can show you if you don’t. And thank you,
T’Challa. For everything.”
“Of course,” T’Challa placed a hand on the small of Becca’s back, “come now, my
dear, we have a lot of preparations to do.”
“Oh, I am sorry for not knowing,” Steve flushed, turning back to the pair
before he left. “But is Becca out of newborn state? If not, you can choose a
feeding room while you’re at the house.”
“She is being weaned off constant feeding, I assume within a few days she will
move on to a strong fledgling,” T’Challa answered with pride for his newborn.
Steve smiled at Becca for her accomplishment. Due to her traumatic life before
her rebirth, Natasha had determined to immediately put her on immature
protocols for extra care; it seemed to have worked. “Then by all means choose a
feeding room anyway. Weaning is not totally off.” He bowed his head and
shoulders in formal thanks and moved off down the hall, leaving the choosing of
the group to the other Alpha’s care since the man would know who was friendly
towards Bucky, even if Bucky might not yet know all his allies in the vast
safehouse. Rather, Steve headed off to meet with Sam and ask him to extend his
appointed guardianship until the ceremony.
Sam sat in the vast library that the safehouse had to offer; he sat behind the
large mahogany desk, brown eyes scanning through a parchment laid out before
him. Like a constant protector, Redwing sat on the perch near the desk,
specifically designed for members of the Wilson clan, all of which had personal
winged companions. Redwing cooed at the sight of the blond entering the room,
his wings ruffling in pleasure.
“Hello my friends,” Steve called out, his voice lighter than it had been in the
last week. “Especially to you, Redwing, noble protector and ally.” Steve always
gave the falcon special attention, always had, as a sign of respect for
Wilson’s feathered friend. Those not as familiar with the Wilson clan thought
the birds mere pets, but Steve knew better. Through his long friendship with
Sam, the Rogers’ vampyre knew that Wilsons had a special bond, beyond mere
ownership, with their birds.
“We reopen the house tonight, if you would aid us? We request, Bucky and I,
that you tend Winnie until the ceremony, if you would continue your care for
our pup.” He offered his smile, “and, Bucky is flattered and appreciative of
the gift. We wish Winnie to be laid to rest with the Wilson blanket. Thank you
for such a gift, Sam.”
Sam nodded, “It is the least I could do. How is he doing? Better, I assume?”
“He’s bathing himself and Summer,” Steve couldn’t help the relief and pride in
his voice. “T’Challa was right about the steps of grief. I wish it hadn’t come
at the expense of a pup in his own family long ago.” Stepping right up to Sam,
Steve offered the tiny bundle. “Sam, meet Winnie,” he said formally. His pre-
pup deserved so much, and this was all he could give: dignity.
“Named after the mother, I suppose? Becca was talking about her human family,
the little she remembers, that is,” Sam smiled at the pup before meeting
Steve’s eyes.
With a nod, Steve smiled. “Becca is doing well with her surrogate. I’m proud to
have had a hand in her rebirth, even if a bit embarrassed. The others are
whispering that now I’ve started, I’ll never stop.” He flushed. “I’ve heard
them say I’m addicted to the conversion.” Steve shuddered. Some vampyres, ones
now in containment, did get addicted to the rush of that initial feeding sex.
Steve had had to think of Bucky both times after the first one, Bucky’s. “We’ll
be glad to go to our house. This atmosphere was created for nurture but it
reeks of poison of late.”
“The others are frightened, although it is not an excuse for the hate he has
been receiving,” Sam sighed, knowing that he was just as guilty of demeaning
thoughts against the ex-hunter, fueled by the anger of the loss of life at the
hands of the ‘Winter Soldier.’
“At least Pietro’s Beta status and teen years has garnered him more sympathy,”
Steve sighed. “Natasha mentioned that the reason I was drawn to save my mate
was that we are what is called true mates . . . that we were destined to be
together.”
“It’s a rare bond, but it does make sense, it would’ve been the reason why you
could never kill him,” Sam stood from the desk, Redwing chirping at his
master’s movement.
Nodding his agreement, Steve slipped his daughter into Sam’s arms. He liked
their friendship and talks, but he was desperate to begin this last step home
for Bucky. The sooner he could open the house and lay their pup to rest, the
sooner Bucky could heal . . . truly heal. He would never lose the grief, but it
could lessen enough to no longer interfere. “You are welcome to the house at
anytime, Sam. And . . . like you have done for me, no matter who you bring, it
will be welcomed.” Steve did not mention, nor begrudge, Wilson his anger; it
was natural and now would be forgiven.
“Thank you, my friend,” Sam said as he accepted the precious bundle, cradling
the pup protectively.
With a last smile and a soft chirrup for the falcon, the blond turned and left
the library.
***** Of Endings and Beginnings *****
In the hall, Steve had to hastily step out of the way of a rushing Omega
immature who sprinted into the library, oblivious to the grieving man on his
way to take back his life.
The girl held out a folded parchment with an official wax seal, panting from
her run. “Wilson? This is for you by special messenger . . . a, uh, falcon
delivered it?” The parchment would have been carried awkwardly in the bird’s
talons, as it was far too large for a tiny message tube. Wilsons rarely so
burdened their birds. The bird was nowhere in sight, meaning the flight
couldn’t have been short; it would be recovering somewhere.
Taking the parchment with a concerned frown, Sam shifted his entrusted bundle
and broke the seal with his nail. Opening the letter with one hand, the dark-
skinned man’s eyes scanned over the paper.
The writing was neat, if a bit showy, script with a fine quill dipped in violet
ink rather than the more traditional black, an expensive choice.
“W, NYork. Family dead. Sanctuary. W, Phila.”
The few words could easily have been sent in a message tube, but the very fact
that the vampyre had used whatever was to hand marked the urgency of the claim.
It hadn’t had time to fumble with such a small contraption; whichever Wilson
had survived the Philadelphia attack, and they had heard there hadn’t been any,
had used the closest thing to hand and trusted the over-burdened falcon to
deliver it safely. And, despite the size, the bird had finally managed it. Who
knew if the vampyre had survived in the two days since the slaughter had been
reported officially: a slaughter Sam hadn’t been sent to check since there had
been nothing to do in the aftermath with no reported survivors. Even the birds
had been massacred.
Snarling at the mere thought that a survivor could have been overlooked, Sam
whistled to Redwing, urging the falcon to follow.
The heaving immature Omega finally straightened, pride in her eyes for a task
completed correctly. She offered Sam a hesitant smile. “I’ve got the bird in
the kitchens? It seemed to need water or something, and it looked pretty beat
up.”
“Good girl,” Sam offered the Omega a thankful nod and then left the room,
heading towards the kitchens in search of the falcon that had delivered the
message.
Upon entering the bustling kitchens, Sam’s eyes immediate focused on the
injured bird drinking out of a bowl of water. Her soft brown feathers were
covered in blood, her right eye had a deep cut, effectively blinding that eye,
and one of her legs appeared to be injured as well, most likely from fighting
against her attackers.
Using his powers, the vampyre pushed his consciousness into the falcon’s to
communicate with her: her name was Snap, and her companion, Riley, had escaped
from the violent slaughter of his house.
Sam had only met Snap’s friend a few times over the course of his long life.
Riley was a very isolated member of the clan: stayed to himself. He didn't
entertain or socialize much, though he did report faithfully to the main
important clan functions. He was a wealthy man but didn't use the money except
on fine clothes, stuff for his falcon, and, apparently, his writing supplies.
He was known to live in the Philadelphia house because he simply never moved on
after his last visit about fifty years before. No one really recalled which
house the wandering Wilson originally came from, but he had finally settled in
Philadelphia and everyone had just accepted it. They'd given him a private wing
and left him alone: the ‘strange bird’ of the Wilson clan.
And he was the last house survivor, hidden in a crawl space, injured and fading
when he’d managed to send out Snap two days ago, sparing her the feathered
slaughter as much as he had, at the time, been spared.
Feeling so incredibly torn, Sam knew he had a duty as a leader to go to Riley.
But . . . he looked down at the bundle in his arms and sighed; Steve and Bucky
had entrusted him to protect and deliver Winnie to the ceremony that evening.
He had a duty to the grieving family that held just as strong a claim in the
eyes of vampyre tradition. Many younger vampyres would tell him a living clan
member held more claim over the dead pup of an ex-hunter from a different clan
. . . but Rogers had always been true to the special rituals and traditions of
the vampyre clans. He had always sworn that sticking to the honor made them
more civilized that any of the other species, who let go their beliefs as they
moved through the centuries. And, beyond that traditional respect, Steve Rogers
had always been a close and true friend to Sam himself.
Knowing what he must do, and fearing the result, Sam asked Redwing to stay with
Snap and protect her. He caught the eye of that Omega who’d brought the missive
and instructed “give her a large bowl to try to bath in and give her a mouse or
two to eat, live but not running. Thank you.”
Entrusting the injured falcon to the care of the immature, and her watchful
Alpha who had stayed in the kitchen with their feathered guest, Sam turned and
headed to the room of his longtime friend and the man’s ex-hunter mate.
Sam knew what the answer would be before he even asked, but he had to try. The
‘Winter Soldier’ could never hold the possible life of a strange vampyre in a
far off city as equally precious to that of his own deceased pre-pup. After two
days with no aid, Riley was in all probability already dead. But Sam, as a
leader in the Wilson clan, had to try to aid the vampyre, or at least to bring
back his body for a proper ceremony. Sam had to ask, the dark-eyed Alpha
already mentally preparing the note he would send to the Wilson house in Boston
upon the refusal of Steve’s mate.
Arriving at the door, Sam listened a moment to be sure the occupants had
finished bathing and dressing; he didn’t want to interrupt the ex-hunter in the
nude. Bathing was not like feeding a desperate newborn: it was only pulic by
total consent. Determining that the sounds came from a man packing and not
bathing, Sam knocked on the door and politely called out, “It’s Wilson.”
Vampyre etiquette demanded announcing one’s identity at a closed door, to warn
the occupants who they might face. Emergencies of course could forgive an
unannounced intrusion, but this wasn’t that kind of emergency. Sam was already
planning to ask them to relieve him of a traditional vow; the least he could do
was offer the grieving Omega respect while he did so.
From inside the room, Bucky looked at the door, his wet hair dripping on his
clothed shoulders. The bathing had helped him a lot; he felt slightly
rejuvenated and Summer seemed to benefit from it as well. “Sam?” The Omega
picked up the pup that he'd carefully set on the bed while he packed.
When Bucky opened the door, Sam bowed at the shoulders respectfully, the
precious body of Winnie cradled protectively in his arms. Not entering, not
feeling he had the right with what he must beg for, and Sam knew he’d beg if he
must, the darker haired vampyre softly said, “I have received word that a
Wilson survived in Philadelphia, but he was dying two days ago. Please, may I
go to him?” Taking a breath, Sam added the kicker, “I would need to leave
immediately and don’t know when I’ll return.”
“Okay,” the Omega said said softly, “you need to go to your clan member. I can
take Winnie until we find another to guard her.” Bucky set the live pup back on
the bed and gestured for Sam to hand Winnie over to him.
Carefully transferring the small, wrapped body to Bucky’s arm, Sam let his hand
linger on the Omega’s sleeve. ‘My grief stays here with you . . . Bucky
Rogers.”
Bucky nodded, a pained smile on his face, “thank you Sam, for what you have
done for me and my pup. I know it must have not been easy. I am sorry for the
pain I caused you in my past life.” The Omega cradled Winnie close to his
chest, protectively.
Meeting the other vampyre’s eyes, Sam felt his hatred and anger finish bleeding
out of him. He knew he would always grieve the losses Bucky had cause his clan,
but this man was no longer the hunter. Sam nodded. “I accept you and your
sincerity, Bucky, and will hurry back if I can. You are always welcome in the
house of a Wilson.” He dropped his hand.
Once more, Sam imitated Steve’s formality at that moment, relief singing
through him, and hoped he might find the Wilson member still alive. The leader
bowed deeply at the shoulders to show his respect and gratitude. Without
pausing to check Bucky’s reaction, Sam turned and took off running towards the
kitchen. He needed to provide instructions on how to care for Snap’s injuries
before he left, wishing he knew of another Wilson in the area that could heal
the bird; but Sam lived alone. There were no other Wilson clan members in New
York City.
Bucky stared wide eyed at the retreating vampyre; he'd never thought he'd ever
be shown and treated with the respect Sam had just displayed. After a few
moments he shut the door to resume with his final preparations for leaving the
safehouse.
Hurrying into the kitchen, the Wilson leader immediately turned to the same
immature Omega and her Alpha guardian. He explained in precise detail how to
care for the blinded eye, the injured leg, the disarranged feathers. He
stressed the importance of allowing Snap to do as much of the self care as she
could manage to aid in her rehabilitation; if the vampyres did too much, the
bird might become overly dependent on their help, and she needed to be able to
fend for herself. It would be the final insult to turn such a noble creature
into a pet out of over-kindness.
Finally, Sam turned for the doorway and bolted outside, the feel of the chilly
air across his body making his veins come alive, humming with the power of the
winds above him. Jumping nimbly into the air, spreading his arms wide, great
wings of pure energy seemed to sprout from his shoulders and spine. Sam caught
an updraft, using his inborn sense of the wind to guide his flight. The Rogers
clan might be the fastest on land, but there was none to beat a Wilson in
flight; some even thought a flying Wilson could overtake a running Rogers with
time to spare. One day, Sam would have to make that challenge; it might provide
a bit of fun in their increasingly troubled existence.
Before an hour had passed, the city of Philadelphia spread below, oil and gas
lamps warring with newer, steam-powered bulbs, developed in New Jersey but
embraced fully in the city of American founders, the City of Brotherly Love.
The name felt like a mocking wound as Sam circled over the dark, still Wilson
house of such terror and death.
Coming to land, boots silent as he dropped carefully to the roof, the lone
vampyre paused to scent the air. The blood and filth left behind from the
massacre hung stale over everything, bitter and sour. Vampires or creations had
been involved, which made sense with the intelligence they had collected on
Hydra; humans weren’t the only beings working for the power-hungry
conglomerate. Another, very weak, Beta scent told Sam even more: Riley Wilson
was alive, barely, and somewhere very near.
Sam climbed the dark stairwell that lead down from the roof into the attic of
the home, using his senses to guide him towards his injured clan member.
The rumored private wing Riley had been granted was, in fact, the entire attic,
stretching over the upper floors of the grand house. Neat and relatively clean,
the room had dark paneled walls and a thick maroon carpet stretching corner to
corner of the vast space. The skylights which had been built into the ceiling
had thick darkening covers which could be worked open or closed with clockwork
gears near the spiral staircase, the only egress into the actual house from the
isolated room. Bookshelves, well stocked with expensively bound and kept books,
lined every free wall, while a large mahogany desk and leather chair sat
directly under the central skylights. A massive four-poster bed sat to the far
side of the room opposite the stairs, dark maroon bed hangings framed the bed,
brushing the well-polished wood as they gently stirred by the head of the bed.
No fire burned in the central Franklin stove, the room fallen as cold as the
chilled air wafting in from the open skylights.
Nothing seemed disturbed in the room, surprising and even suspicious
considering a Hydra hunt had occurred in the house. It seemed highly doubtful
they would have ignored the space; the attic was a logical place for someone to
try to hide, or a member of the flying clan to have attempted a rooftop escape.
Hydra would have known they were dealing with the flying clan; the attic would
have been high on the list to check. But . . . nothing seemed out of place,
damaged, or disrupted in the space that would feel welcoming and relaxing at
any other time.
No sound alerted him, but something, some shift in the air, warned Sam that
someone lingered by the bed . . . an energy fluctuation, very faint, flickering
on the edge of failing.
Sam cautiously made his way over to the bed, afraid that he'd be too late to
save Riley. The weak scent of a Beta hung in the air, and Sam looked around,
not seeing any sign of life. By the edge of the bed, the dark-skinned man
noticed that one of the panels of the wall was cracked open slightly. Kneeling
down, he slowly opened the panel and called, “Riley?”
Behind the wall, in an obvious tiny bolt hole, lay the curled figure of a young
vampyre male, perhaps mid-twenties in human age, though he had been converted
long ago. His blond hair was streaked with dirt and sweat, his pale skin almost
translucent white, his clothing torn and dusty, and a few of Snap’s feathers
lay scattered on his pants. Cracking open blue eyes ringed in a deep maroon,
the vampyre let out a soft breath before seeming to collapse in on himself.
Sam cursed under his breath and carefully pulled the injured vampyre out of the
crawl space, laying Riley down gently. Sam leaned down to press his lips
against the injured man's, forcing his powerful energy into the Beta below him.
As energy surged into the starving, injured vampyre, his eyes fell open with a
lock of shock and almost fear. The strong sweet scent of an Omega falling into
feeding heat overwhelmed the muted Beta tones. Letting out a needy whimper,
Riley’s hand fluttered as if he reached for something but lacked the strength
in his condition.
Pulling away slightly, Sam looked down at Riley, shocked by the undeniably
Omega scent, “that's impossible . . . you're mature . . .”
Whimpering again, Riley fluttered his hand towards Sam, needing the energy that
the healthy Alpha exuded. He opened his mouth and the tip of his tongue wet his
lips. “Please . . .” he rasped in a broken voice, ”please . . .” There was no
mistaking the need in the blond’s tones: he needed a complete feeding.
Overcome with the need to help the Omega, the mature Omega, underneath him, Sam
quickly ripped off the clothes off both of them and pressed his flesh firmly
against Riley's. “I got you, Riley . . . it's gonna be okay . . .”
“Sam?” the vampyre restlessly tried to move below the other man, but he lacked
much strength to do so. He managed to lift a hand and place it against Sam’s
dark, muscular chest, but the pale limb dropped back to his own chest and Riley
whimpered once more. “Please, Sam . . .”
Sam quickly lined himself up and pushed into Riley’s passage, transferring his
strong energy into the weak vampyre.
Within moments, heavy slick began to leak around the Alpha, proving that the
blond vampyre was indeed an Omega . . . an Omega at least two hundred years old
and far out of his youth stage. Riley’s eyes fluttered closed then open as he
fed on the intense energy Sam released. He would only truly begin to heal with
the much needed life-seed, but the psychic energy was a very good start,
pulling him from the edge of death. With how much energy the vampyre required,
it was inevitable he’d be as needy as a newborn at second feeding.
The whimpers turned to soft moans of need and pleasure as the Alpha rocked into
him again and again. Closing his eyes, Riley fluttered them open once more,
looking up at Sam through his lashes, a smile gracing his face. Lifting both of
his hands, the blond caressed his fingers, feather light, over Sam’s chest to
his shoulders. “Sam . . .” he breathed and nudged his face at the man’s neck,
lips brushing the skin at the Alpha’s pulsepoint. Riley slid one foot against
Sam’s calf, his strength slowly returning; the Omega canted his hips a bit to
take his lover deeper.
The Alpha groaned as his member pushed further inside that wet heat; the scent
and overwhelming sensations of the Omega’s natural slick brought Sam to the
edge of orgasm within only a few short minutes. “Almost there, Riley . . .
almost there . . .”
“God, yes, Sam . . .” the blonde finally felt strong enough to lift both legs
and wrap them around Sam’s thighs, pulling the Alpha even closer, bottoming out
the large male. Throwing his head back, exposing his neck, the blond moaned
long and low, “yes, Sam . . . please . . .”
Growling low, a deep rumbling noise from the back of his throat, Sam thrust
once more before filling the Omega with his seed, his essential life-energy.
Screaming out with his own orgasm, the Omega bucked up, accepting the life-seed
and reveling in the surge of power and ecstasy, his own small store of energy
replenishing and flowing out back to Sam, joining them in that moment. “Sam . .
.” Riley’s maroon-ringed blue eyes widened and he stared past his lover, to the
paneled ceiling, still keening his orgasm.
Panting softly, Sam bucked his hips a few more times, riding out his orgasm.
“God, Riley . . .” after he came down from his high, the dark-skinned vampyre
gently eased out of the Omega, pulling slick and cum with him.
A whimper followed the sudden emptiness and Riley rocked his hips once or twice
more before relaxing his legs and letting his feet slip back to the deep maroon
carpet below him. Running his hands down over Sam’s chest, short, strong
fingers kneading as he did so, Riley watched Sam with wide, maroon-flamed eyes.
Knowing that every minute they spend here, they risked Hydra coming back and
taking advantage of their vulnerable positions, softly Sam asked, “you strong
enough to fly back to New York? Or do we need to find a safehouse here in
Philly?”
“I’ll fly,” Riley said softly, his voice low and even, now that he had been
completely healed. Taking a breath, the blond man began to gather his muscles
to get up once Sam allowed it, already reaching for the discarded shirt.
“Do you mind if we stop at the Rogers’ house on the way? They are performing a
Ceremony of Rest this evening,” Sam questioned, pulling on his underwear and
then his trousers.
Slipping into his pants, forgoing the time it would take to properly dress
fully, Riley stood and tucked the shirt in before fastening the trousers. “If
they do not think I will be an intrusion,” he answered softly, his accent
marking him as being from further out west, in the more unsettled lands of
America.
Sam stood and pulled on his shirt before slipping back into his coat, the dark-
haired man warned, “the dam is . . . well, he used to be the ‘Winter Soldier,’
if you have an issue with being in close proximity, I understand,” his brown
eyes looked over at the Omega.
“They rest a pup this night?” Riley sounded suddenly worried, not referring to
the knowledge of the ex-hunter at all.
“Yes,” Sam nodded, looking grievous, “a miscarriage.”
Thoughtfully, Riley bowed his head, searching his own thoughts and feelings.
Finally, looking at Sam with sad blue eyes, the blond Omega said, “even a
hunter may lose a pup, and should be respected in his time of grief. I will
come and pay my respects to the pup and honor the dam.”
“Let us leave, then, we just might make it for the ceremony,” Sam offered his
hand to the Omega.
Taking the proffered hand in his own, Riley paused, staring at their joined
hands, then flushed. He drew a deep breath and hit a lever by the bed. Gears
soundlessly began turning and the skylight opened wide enough for the pair to
leave that way. “Do you need a drop to begin?”
“No,” Sam shook his head, his eyes changing to a deep maroon as his powerful
wings of energy lifted him off the ground.
Riley had let go of Sam as soon as he felt the other vampyre’s power surge.
Watching the other Wilson clan member take off, Riley suddenly threw his arms
wide and his eyes blazed in maroon fire. His wings curved out in a beautiful
rippling of pure energy feathers as he seemed to power dive upwards. Coming to
a stop, spinning twice round, Riley unfurled his wings once more and breathed
deep. He looked like he had the joy of a Wilson pup on first free flight. With
his lack of energy, he had been limited in flight, only allowing himself the
luxury of the energy drain in extreme situations. For the first time in over
two hundred years, the Omega finally had the energy to spare and felt fully
alive in the skies once more.
Within the hour the pair found themselves soaring over the extremely large
mansion used by the Rogers clan as their New York house, though the Rogers clan
had no official clan leader at the moment. Riley circled, waiting for Sam to
land first, as the house didn’t know Riley at all. He refused to disrespect
them by intruding on their grief without proper invitation. Sam had extended
that invitation, but he would have to be at the house for Riley to properly
accept. Taking another, tighter circle of the mansion, Riley watched as a thin
dark-haired Beta finished draping the last of the crimson banners of mourning
before hurrying inside on her various errands.
Sam landed on the front steps of the home, gracefully transitioning from flying
to walking as he approached the front door, Riley two steps behind. He raised a
fist and knocked, “Rogers, I’ve returned . . . it is Wilson.”
The door opened within minutes and Steve, dressed in a pair of black slacks and
a blood-red shirt stepped out of the way to allow Sam entry. “Thank you for
returning. Is your clan member well?” He looked past Sam to study Riley, hope
in his gold-ringed blue eyes.
“Yes, I was able to get to him in time,” Sam reported, stepping into the home,
“Steve, this is Riley.”
Riley walked forward and bowed formally at the shoulder in meeting this
grieving Alpha. “May I give my respect to your clan in this troubled time?”
“Thank you, Riley Wilson. Please, both of you come in. We’re still preparing,
but Bucky will be glad to see things are better for you.” The blond signaled
them to follow him as he moved further from the door. “And if you wish, I can
offer you a room to freshen up and mourning clothes if you will not be
embarrassed to borrow some. It’s not expected, though, under your circumstances
and your own mourning.”
Sam looked to Riley, brown eyes searching the Omega. The shorter blond nodded
his agreement. Turning back to Steve, Sam nodded, “we’d appreciate the room . .
. thank you, Steve.”
After the pair entered, Steve shut the door quietly and led them up the grand
staircase. He led them to a suite of rooms near the back, a large open balcony,
able to be closed off to block the sun, and two bedrooms with a shared bath
part of the grand rooms. Steve turned. “If you wish seperate rooms, I can
arrange that, but the attic isn’t in good enough state for anyone, especially a
Wilson.” The tall Alpha displayed yet again his knowledge of Wilson protocols
when he added, “If you want to send Darcy for your companions, she’ll eagerly
bring them however you ask. Or, if you wish to go yourself, we won’t be
starting for several hours more.”
“We’ll freshen up first, and then decide what to do about Redwing and Snap,”
Sam said softly, looking to Riley and then back to Sam, “how is Bucky holding
up?”
With a soft smile, Steve said, “I found him a book containing the ceremony and
significance, among other vampyre rituals. He’s reading up and trying to follow
it precisely. I never knew Bucky was an academic.” Shaking his head, the smile
dropping away, Steve said, “he’s been reading it out loud to Summer, insisting
she’ll know her heritage and duties better than others he’s met so far. I think
he won’t forgive the safehouse Alphas anytime soon.”
“As he shouldn’t,” Sam said with a nod, although he’d harboured unkind feelings
for the ex-hunter, Sam had never shown the Omega the disrespect that other
Alphas had done.
Softly, respectfully, Riley asked, “would Dam Rogers be upset if I presented my
respects in my dirt? I wish to honor him as quickly as may be, so he knows how
much I grieve with him.” Riley’s eyes held no sarcasm. He may have been told
who Bucky had once been, but the ‘strange bird’ of the Wilson clan seemed not
to hold it against the former ex-hunter, perhaps because said ex-hunter had
never slaughtered an entire house, pups, fledgelings, and all.
Steve nodded. “I’ll show you both in if you’d like, but Bucky won’t mind if you
clean up first if you want.”
Shaking his head, Riley insisted, “my duty to the dam, first, please, before my
own needs.”
Tears welled in Steve’s eyes and he nodded. “Follow me.” The taller blond
turned and led them down the hall to the suite he now shared with his Omega. He
opened the door softly and led them to the personal library attached near the
outer wall. “Bucky? Sam and his clan member, Riley, are here.”
Bucky’s head shot up from where he’d been reading. His long brown hair had been
pulled back and he wore a blood-red shirt, the left sleeve had been pinned up
to look more presentable. His skin still appeared a shade too pale and the dark
circles under the Omega’s eyes hadn’t gone away; showing that Bucky had yet to
properly feed. He cradled Summer in his arm, the pup wiggling and making soft
babbling noises, the book lying open in his lap.
“Do you wish to see them, Buck,” Steve prompted softly, opening the door so his
mate could see the pair, one of which could pass as a younger sibling or cousin
to Steve. The taller blond moved over to his Omega and gently picked up the
ancient tome, setting it carefully on the table and slipping a piece of silk
over the page to mark it. Steve took the pup, dressed in a bright red sleep
gown, briefly, to allow Bucky to stand before handing her back once more.
Bucky walked over to the two Wilson clan members and dipped his head
respectfully, “thank you for coming Sam and Riley Wilson.”
As he didn’t know Sam very well, had been a recluse most of his second life,
Riley didn’t speak for the other vampyre. Rather, he stepped forward, placed
his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and leaned closer. The shorter Omega kissed
Bucky’s forehead in the very ancient tradition and breathed out, “my heart
mourns your pup, Dam Rogers. May she play in the fields of eternity.”
Bucky gasped at the kind gesture, filled with respect; the ex-hunter was
usually only met with hostility when meeting a new vampyre. The Omega’s eyes
brimmed with tears as he bowed his head in a mirror of the same respect Riley
had shown him, “thank you, Riley.”
Still close, his lips a breath away from Bucky’s forehead, Riley whispered, “I
know your pain. I’ve lost a pup, as well, many years ago. You need to keep up
your strength.” Standing, Riley stepped back and said, “I accept your gracious
offer of mourning clothes as I did not have time to bring my own. If you do not
mind, I will get myself clean for your ceremony and help wherever you may need
me.” The blond bowed at the shoulders and waited politely for the response the
grieving Omega might make.
Looking over at Steve, Bucky’s eyes, ringed with the same gold customary for
the Rogers’ clan, searched his mate’s face. The brunet was still unsure about
many of the traditional customs.
Steve offered an encouraging smile to his mate, soft and tinged with their
grief. As Riley would realize Bucky was still new to this, there was no shame
in offering help. Steve would ever offer to help his love, even if they were
venerable and sitting in a safehouse decrepit and shaky. “I extended the offer
of mourning clothes since they rushed back here, Bucky. After they clean up,
it’s customary for guests of the house who plan to stay over to help with
cleaning, decorating, and other duties. Since Sam will be tending Winnie when
he’s ready, Riley would like to offer you any help you think might be needed .
. . perhaps tending the attic if you wish? Wilsons like high perches.”
“The attic,” Bucky echoed with a nod, he turned to look back at Riley, “tending
to the attic would be a big help.” The fledgling still appeared unsure, he
didn’t want to offend one of the only vampyre’s that hadn’t hesitated to show
him kindness with his lack of knowledge.
Riley offered a sad smile, not once mentioning his own losses to the grieving
dam. “Thank you. I would enjoy making it comfortable for you and your’s.” Riley
bowed at the shoulders and turned, leaving swiftly back to the suite the
Wilsons had been assigned.
Steve looked at Sam. “He’s even more traditional than a Rogers, isn’t he?” the
blond asked softly, indicating to Bucky that Riley’s behavior was all-around
unusual.
Offering a soft smile, Sam nodded; he looked at Steve, wanting to tell his
friend about the fact that Riley was also a mature Omega . . . but he didn’t
know if now was the best time to do so.
“Buck, will you be okay here? I’m going to make sure Sam knows where the tomb
is.” Steve turned to touch Bucky’s arm, but he was careful not to jar the happy
Summer.
“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky nodded and leaned slightly into Steve touch, his body
craving the energy, “we will be fine in here.”
Steve, sensing his Omega’s needs, looked surprised and actually relieved.
Gently, he took the infant from his mate and turned to hand her to Sam.
“Actually, if you don’t mind, Sam, watching Summer for now? I need to tend
Bucky . . .”
Understanding, Sam nodded and took the pup under the watchful, hesitant eyes of
the dam. “I will watch her for as long as you need.” Summer let out a shrill
cry as she left her adoptive Alpha’s hand, making Bucky take a step forward in
worry for his pup.
Steve touched Bucky’s back. “She needs to be away from us at times, Buck.
Remember your weaning?”
Swallowing hard, Bucky nodded and stepped back, the separation from the pup
causing his chest to ache. He leaned into Steve’s side with a small whimper,
trying to drown out the crying infant.
As Sam stepped into the hall, Riley had obviously returned at the distress he’d
heard from the pup. Turning his blue eyes, ringed in maroon, on the squalling
pup, the Omega instinctively reached out and stroked a finger down her cheek,
transferring a bit of energy as he did so. “Hush, little pup, you’ll worry your
Dam. Do you want him never to let you play without him little miss?”
Summer’s crying subsided and she blinked up at the Omega with wide eyes, her
tiny fist wrapping around Riley’s finger.
“There you are. I thought I saw a pretty girl behind those angry tears. You are
a greedy miss, aren’t you, little pup.” But Riley’s tone was kind and even
playful. He smiled at the small bundle, swaying his hand gently as the pup held
on with surprising strength. “Sam, I can hold her while you wash,” he offered
his recent lover.
Nodding, Sam handed the pup over to Riley as they stepped into the suite,
shutting the door behind them.
Bucky nuzzled the crook of Steve’s neck, breathing in the deep, musky scent of
his Alpha. His right hand clutched at the blond’s shirt.
“Hello, Bucky,” Steve said softly, slipping his hand over Bucky’s and humming
softly. “Are you hungry, my lovely mate?”
Nodding, Bucky let out another whimper and scraped his fangs along Steve’s cool
flesh, the sharp points nearly breaking through the skin.
Groaning softly, Steve expose his flesh to Bucky’s nips. “Are you going to mark
me, my love?” he offered a low chuckle. “You feel so good, Buck.” The blond let
his fingers caress over Bucky’s, twining their hands together.
Body thrumming with need, his last full feeding having been a week ago, Bucky
ground his hips against Steve’s, animalistic mewls and keens escaping the
Omega’s lips. “Please, Alpha . . .”
“Anytime, anywhere, Omega,” Steve vowed. He turned and began to quickly undress
his mate from the mourning clothes, careful to not tear or mar the outfit,
hanging it piece by piece as he worked. Once Bucky was undressed, Steve quickly
shucked his own outfit, taking equal care with the special outfit. Finally, The
vampyre Alpha wrapped his large hands around his smaller mate’s narrow hips and
tugged him towards the bed. “How do you want your feeding, Buck?”
Slick already running down his quivering thighs, the Omega crawled onto the bed
and faced away from his Alpha, presenting his needy entrance to his mate. He
leaned down on his arm, ass lifting higher in the air as he moaned out, “Stevie
. . .”
With a slow grin, Steve walked over to the bed and climbed up, knee-walking
across the soft surface. Coming up behind his mate, Steve caressed the fingers
of one hand over that hot opening. “So wet for me, Buck, so ready.” He gripped
his member and lined up, easily thrusting inside that wet heat in one long,
deep stroke, balls slapping against Bucky’s flesh as Steve bottomed out. He
groaned low at the feeling of his lover all around him.
“Alpha . . . Steve - - please . . .” Bucky keened as he ground his hips back,
ass pressing firmly to the blond’s pelvis.
Chuckling softly, Steve pulled back and almost out then snapped his hips,
driving his massive tool back into Bucky’s tight passage with a low grunt. He
continued to stroke, in and out, building the pleasure quickly between his
Omega and himself. Leaning over Bucky’s back. Steve nipped at the brunet’s ear.
“You like this, Omega?”
“Yes, Alpha . . . I love it when you fill me . . .” Bucky moaned back, meeting
the blond’s thrusts, needing more, needing to feel it.
“You want to be knotted, my love?” Steve moaned into his lover’s ear, snapping
his hips over and over, dragging over Bucky’s prostate with every deep plunge.
Bucky mewled, a high needy sound, as his Alpha pounded into his prostate, over
and over again. His own erection leaked with the stimulation.
Wrapping a strong arm around Bucky’s waist to support him, Steve shifted the
other man to get deeper access to his ass. “Hold on tight, Bucky, I’m gonna
ride you hard, baby.”
“Yes, Alpha . . . fuck me hard - - please . . .” Bucky begged.
Taking a deep breath, gathering his energy, Steve thrust as deep and hard as he
could, sinking his fangs into Bucky’s mate mark. His knot seemed bigger than it
ever had before and burned hot with the fire of pure energy, swelling, locking
them together, binding them tightly. Steve grunted into Bucky’s neck around the
mouthful of flesh as he let loose hot thick ropes of life-seed deep in his
mate’s body, pulsing and throbbing and aching with every jet of cum.
Bucky screamed in complete ecstasy as the pure energy burned through him; his
entire body went lax as Steve’s teeth sank deep in his flesh. The brunet came
hard and fast onto the sheets below him, the larger-than-normal knot deep in
his ass aching in all the right ways.
Supporting the limp Omega in his strong arm, his other hand planted on the bed
to balance himself, Steve finally released Bucky’s neck. He lapped at the
endorphins released from the broken skin, sucking at the small energy leak and
exchanging stimulating bursts through the contact. Murmuring into his lover’s
skin, Steve moaned out, “so perfect, my Bucky, you were made for me. You fit so
well, so tight and hot. I wanna stay in you forever and just burn with you,
burn in your heat and slick.” Since his knot was pure energy rather than weaker
flesh, Steve manipulated it like he couldn’t his flesh knot. The Alpha
deliberately pulsed the energy knot, making it enlarge just a bit to stretch
Bucky even more then backing off but not pulling out, letting cum and slick
ooze around him before once more filling the knot back up. Without even moving,
he fucked his lover in a whole new way, thicker and thinner rather than in and
out.
The Omega moaned and keened at the amazingly new sensations Steve was emitting.
Much to Bucky’s surprise, his body began to react to the erotic feeling of the
Alpha’s expanding and contracting knot. Even more slick ran down the needy
Omega’s thighs as his body prepared itself for another round.
Keeping up the intense flowing, fucking energy for ten minutes, Steve finally
let the false knot deflate, replaced almost instantly by his real, flesh knot.
He began to bob back and forth, rocking his mate while staying buried in the
man’s still tight passage. “Feel so good, baby,” he cooed at the change of
energy level in his recently grief-ill Omega.
By this time, Bucky was a writhing, keening mess, his right hand clutching
tightly at the sheets and his breathing coming out in gasps and grunts. The
Omega was so far gone in his own pleasure that he barely registered his mate’s
words; all he could focus on was the satisfyingly full feeling.
Finally, close to twenty minutes of rocking his flesh knot later, Steve felt
his own erection lessening. He felt his member flop out of his lover, dragging
cum and slick by the load. Reaching around, Steve wrapped his large, calloused
hand around the other man’s erection and merely held him, his hand sliding as
the pair breathed in and out, up and down. “Cum again, baby, cum for your
Alpha,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s neck.
Bucky cried out as his second orgasm hit him, painting Steve’s hand in thick
jets of cum. The Omega panted hard, eyes half lidded as he pressed his face
against the mattress, trying to catch his breath. The brunet’s body quivered
with over-stimulation, slick and cum still leaking out of his passage. “Alpha .
. .” Bucky moaned softly.
“My Bucky,” Steve groaned softly back, finally releasing his mate with tender
care. He lowered Bucky to the bed and eased off the other man’s body. Standing,
Steve moved to the steam-heated sink, pumping water and wetting a rag with a
soft, rather giddy looking, smile. Moving back to the bed, Steve very carefully
washed his lover’s over-sensitized skin.
Kissing Bucky’s temple, Steve smiled down at his mate. “My beautiful Bucky,” he
cooed. “Get some sleep, please. We’ll need to dress in a couple of hours.”
Nodding, Bucky curled up in the soft sheets, mind and body exhausted. “Okay, my
Alpha,” the Omega’s eyes shut and within moments he was asleep.
Cleaning up quickly, Steve carefully moved his Omega from the dirty bed,
stripping and remaking it. He again tenderly moved Bucky, lying him in the
center of their large mattress and curled protectively around him, drifting to
sleep as well.
Mere hours passed in a haze of sleep then grief before the sun finally arose on
the house of sorrow.
Bucky sat in the large sitting room, humming the lullaby softly to the sleeping
Summer in his arm, he could hear Steve and Sam talking in the office down the
hall but he only focused on the pup. His head snapped up as loud pounding
thundered on the door, making Summer cry out at the loud noise.
Steve’s voice sounded loud and firm, “Bucky, stay safe, protect Summer.” He
strode down the hall to the door and waited for the proper alert, shifting the
dark curtains very slightly to try to see. It could, after all, be such an
emergency the vampyre on the other side couldn’t speak. Stunned by the sight on
his front doorstep, Steve opened the door, blocking access. Growing at the
obvious vampire there with a younger man of unknown species, Steve growled a
low warning. “What is it?”
Wade Wilson, a known rogue vampire, carried a bleeding and unconscious young
teen in his arms, his blood red eyes focused on the large vampyre blocking the
door, “Rogers, right? Look, I just need help . . . he - -”
“Is he a vampyre newborn?” Steve asked, concern overwhelming his caution,
though not enough to just throw open the door. “How did you get him?”
“One of your kind killed an older fellow and was working on this one when I
heard them in the alley . . . spooked the soul sucker. Your house was the
closest.” Wade informed, shifting the weight in his arms.
“My God, that rogue converted him in order to kill him?” Steve moved out of the
doorway. “Follow me and do not waiver or, even at his expense, you will die,
sir.” The blond turned and met the eyes of Sam, in the doorway to the house
library, and nodded to the other vampyre, signaling his possible need for
backup. Steve quickly headed into a downstairs lounge, a daybed spread with
soft blankets. “I can finish his conversion,” Steve began when the newborn
opened bright crimson glowing eyes and started to tremble, clutching at the
vampire with confused whimpers.
“Uh . . .” Wade shifted uncomfortably, actually looking nervous in the face of
the tall, muscular vampyre, “I had to - - bite him . . . he was dying and there
was no time.”
“He’s half converted both ways? You’ll need to feed him your blood to finish,
correct?” Steve moved to the daybed and whipped off the blankets so the newborn
wouldn’t get tangled as he shook. “And that means you’ll need to be his
surrogate, as well. He needs energy to finish conversion. You do that by
feeding him yours.” Steve looked at the rogue vampire. “Do you need help?”
Summer’s crying could still be heard down the hall, as well as Bucky’s voice
trying to soothe her, the pup obviously sensing the perilous and confusing
scents. Wade’s eyes flickered over to the opened door, where Sam stood, arms
crossed over his chest and then back to Steve. “I gotta fuck the kid? That’s
how you do it, right?”
“It’s more than sex, sir,” Steve answered, not knowing the vampire’s name. “You
have to give your energy, which is an emotional thing. Your seed . . .
vampire’s have seed I hope, also nourishes the newborn. Should I send to the
safehouse instead?” Steve moved to Wade and reached for the trembling,
whimpering teen. “He is not so young after all,” Steve seemed relieved upon
recognizing a human of maturity, unlike Pietro’s younger age.
“No, I can do it. Although you may want to send word that one of your own is
going around killing humans,” Wade answered on a growl, eyes flaring in anger.
“Yes,” Steve sighed, “we call them rogues. After you tend this one, he will
need to feed again before ten minutes is up. Are you capable of this, Sir?”
“It’s Wade, Wade Wilson,” the rogue answered, looking at Steve.
Steve choked. He glanced to Sam then back to Wade. “Were you ever claimed by a
vampyre house, Wade?” Steve took the teen and laid him on the daybed, stripping
him quickly. “You should undress fully, Wade, the more flesh contact, the
better the energy transfer.” He couldn’t believe he was instructing a sworn
enemy in how to tend one of their precious newborns. “And my name is Steve.”
“You two gonna stand here and watch? I’m afraid I don’t like to put on shows,”
Wade growled, looking at Sam and then back at Steve.
“I will give you the choice of which of us stays, Wade, but one of us will
remain in case you prove false. You tried to save this newborn, so I hope you
understand our position.” Steve met his eyes, gold lightly flaming over the
blue.
“Silent and deadly over there is making me nervous,” Wade answer gesturing to
Sam in the doorway.
Nodding, Steve said, “He is called Sam Wilson.” Looking over at his friend,
Steve said, “can you see if Bucky needs help? I don’t think I need to retract
his orders for now.”
Sam nodded and gave Wade one last glare before turning away, down the hall in
the direction of the still wailing pup.
The tall, muscular blond finished undressing the injured, rapidly bleeding,
newborn. He stepped back and out of the way, sinking to a chair and turning it
so that his side was to the pair, giving Wade some small privacy. “I know this
will not be easy, but if you need any help, ask me. I will try to remain quiet.
My advice is, if you have difficulties, think of someone who pleases you.”
Steve settled his eyes on the unlit fireplace.
“Everyone pleases me,” Wade grumbled as he stripped of his coat and then began
to pull his shirt over his head.
“When he is safe, may we discuss our differences? I am curious, I admit,” Steve
said softly.
“Yeah, pal, whatever you want,” Wade said, unbuckling his belt and then
unbuttoning his jeans.
Nodding, Steve continued to stare at the fireplace, listening, monitoring, but
being as polite as he could by not watching.
The teen whimpered and scrabbled at Wade’s chest, his hips and waist.
Instinctively he knew he needed something, half human, half vampyre, and just a
splash of vampire until Wade could finish the blood exchange as well. This
newborn would be a child of both worlds when the day was done . . . if he
survived the very different double conversions.
Giving the silent vampyre one last look over his shoulder, Wade slid out of his
trousers and then crawled up on the bed, pushing his body flush against the boy
beneath him. Bringing his teeth to his wrist, Wade bit into his own flesh,
drawing a steady stream of blood, and brought the wound to the brunet’s lips.
“C’mon, baby boy, drink up . . . I know you’re hungry.”
Opening his mouth hesitantly, the newborn tentatively lapped at the crimson
fluid, his eyes the same blood color as Wade’s life fluid. Suddenly, eyes
closing as if in pleasure, the teen latched onto the wound and began sucking in
short, deep sips, humming mixing with the keening, needful sound he began to
make.
“That’s it, baby boy, that’s good,” Wade praised as his other hand moved down
to open the brunet’s legs a little wider, giving him better access.
Canting his hips in instinctive need, the newborn whined, his slender erection
thick with his desire, ending in a long uncircumcised taper of dark purpling
flesh. As he sucked the blood into his mouth, the tip of his tongue darted out
to trace the open flesh. The newborn’s eyes never left the older vampire’s
face, wide and dark red.
Slipping a long finger into the newborn’s passage, Wade tried to open the
teen’s tight muscles as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Whimpering, the brunet began to rock his hips, sucking in time with his needy,
uncontrolled movements.
Unwilling to interrupt, but sensing where the vampire was lacking, Steve softly
instructed, still looking away, “imagine your energy flowing into him. It’s not
as hard as you may think.”
Nodding, Wade slowly began to push his tip into the tight ring of muscles,
trying to focus on transferring his energy to the newborn.
“Any hurt you may cause or he may have will heal, Wade. Do not fear permanent
harm; he will forget it by the next feeding.” Steve kept his voice low and
even, as unemotional as possible, as if instructing a fledgling on nursing a
pup.
Gasping, the brunet teen keened loudly at the triple sensation of the blood
filling his mouth with a seductive taste he’d never experienced, the stretching
burning pain that promised, somehow, to become all he’d ever need, and life
flowing through every hot pore pressed against cold flesh. His body started
bucking and writhing, looking for more of the over intense combination,
revealing the horrifying truth as to why the combination of their species
should in all probability be avoided. The boy was on fire in all but physical
flame and his needy whimpers came as more painful, hungry gasps around his
sire’s arm.
“He’s ready to cum, Wade, you need to bring yourself close then have him accept
you. He must either verbally or physically agree to your being his savior, or
you will only kill him.” Steve cringed at the horrifying sounds, hoping he
hadn’t condemned the unknown teen to something more horrible than even life as
a pure vampire. The elders always warned against such a carnal mix.
“You gonna accept me, baby boy?” Wade asked, thrusting in and out, his own
orgasm building around that tight heat.
Nodding, refusing to lift his mouth and miss even one drop of the addictive
taste, the boy twisted his body so he could meet the vampire’s eyes. He
whimpered and keened his desperate need, nodding and writhing, looking for
release. If this vampire would offer him that elusive, erotic life-giving
reward, Peter Parker would give him his soul.
“Good, baby boy, you’re doing so good,” Wade grunted and he felt a fire in his
belly and his balls tighten, “come on, baby, cum for me.”
Finally drawing his mouth away from Wade’s wrist, Peter threw his head back and
screamed his release, his weeping erection shooting hot ropes of thick white
fluid all over the pair, untouched and over-sensitive. His clenched down hard
on his passage, grinding into his sire, bottoming out the other man forcefully
enough to knock his own head on the backboard of the bed. With a whimper, eyes
fading to a deep, chocolate brown, but still as wide and near-innocent as
before, he keened softly and whispered, “your’s . . .”
Growling low at that statement, Wade shot his powerful load of life-seed into
the brunet, ropes of cum painting Peter’s walls. “Good boy, baby . . . so
good,” Wade moaned loud.
As Wade began to come down from his orgasm, Steve immediately was by his side.
He put a firm hand on the small of the vampire’s back, forcing him to stay
embedded. “Don’t pull away. Your energy is still feeding him, Wade. You do not
leave him until after the second feeding, which will be just as intense.” His
voice and manner remained that of a detached instructor.
Listening to Steve, Wade stayed deeply embedded in Peter, growling and grunting
at the tightness of the teen’s passage around his still erect member.
“Talk to him, Wade. He’ll understand, unless your kind are unable to. A newborn
needs the comfort of its sire, because the whole world has just turned over.
He’ll feel things a hundredfold deeper now, good and bad.” Steve removed his
hand, knowing the vampire needed little physical guidance. He moved back to his
chair and once more turned to look at the fireplace, letting the vampire know
that the blond vampyre only meant to help in this strange transformation for
the newly joined pair.
Wade leaned down to gently press his lips to Peter’s, lapping at the metallic
taste of his own blood. His hips still rocked slightly against the brunet,
knowing the second wave wouldn’t be too far behind.
“Hurts,” Peter whimpered hoarsely, his voice wrecked from his orgasmic screams.
He moved his own hips to meet the gentle rhythm, needing more, wanting that
all-encompassing pleasure yet again. “Sire . . . more . . .”
“I’ll make you feel better, baby boy,” Wade promised, kissing and nipping at
Peter’s fresh wound on his neck, “you’re doing so good.”
Moaning softly in the pleasurable sensation, Peter exposed the graceful expanse
of his throat. “Fill me . . . sire, please . . . on fire . . .”
The vampire bit down on the open wound, thrusting deeper and harder, Peter’s
sweet blood filling his mouth and driving Wade further, closer to his second
orgasm.
Gasping, ending in a high-pitched yelp of bliss, Peter began meeting the
thrusts with deeper, longer pushes of his own. He rocked in an almost circular
motion, seeking something, he knew not what. As the fire in his veins grew, and
the tightness low in his belly clamored, Peter moaned out, “please, sire . . .
need you . . . mark me . . . make me your’s . . .”
Steve stiffened at those words, the words of a mating not a feeding. He shot a
look at the pair but knew he was too late to stop it and not daring to
interfere in the unfamiliar combination. He only hoped he wasn’t hurting the
boy by allowing him to be mated . . . like Bucky had been.
Biting down hard, Wade finally pierced the endorphins deeply embedded into the
brunet’s neck as a large knot locked the two together as he came for the second
time in less than twenty minutes.
Screaming, fading into a long keen that seemed to never end, Peter clenched
down over the nearly too large knot, feeling the tugging stretch threatening to
rip him apart with the pleasure. He locked his legs tightly around his mate and
ripped his fingernails into the man’s back, drawing jagged wells of blood down
the muscular expanse, his body locked in a stillness of sheer ecstasy. His
member shot a long, unending roped of thick cum, coating the pair’s abdomens
and thighs once more.
Riding out his orgasm, Wade released the Omega’s neck and lapped at the wound,
healing it until only a scar remained.
Panting, eyes rolling back and head lolling, the noise stopped. Peter seemed to
collapse slowly, his legs unlocking, his back coming out of his painful arch,
his hands falling to the bed beside him, dark blood coating his nails, fingers,
and palms. “Alpha,” he breathed softly with a contented smile of bliss.
After ten minutes, Wade’s flaccid member slipped out of Peter, allowing the
vampire to pull away.
Steve offered warm wet cloths to the vampire, a serious frown on his face. “We
have a lot to talk about, Wade. First and foremost, I cannot risk bringing you
to a safehouse. You wouldn’t be permitted in and the elders would most likely
order the boy’s death for being a cross-breed. Cross-breeds are against our
traditions as a dangerous aberration.” Drawing a breath, he added gently, “wash
your mate first, Wade, then yourself. I’m not sure if he’ll need feeding in the
normal two hours, or if it will be sooner due to his new life.”
Wade quickly and gently began to clean Peter; once the newborn’s flesh was
wiped of any blood and fluids, the vampire moved to clean himself.
Hoping to stem any worry, Steve offered, “don’t mind if he’s limp. As long as
he breathes and heals, he’s fine. I didn’t know vampires had . . . “ he paused,
not wishing to offend but then carried on, “well, I didn’t know they could
mate, just have sex.”
“There’s a lot you soul-eaters don’t know about us,” Wade offered, wiping away
the last bit of mess from his skin.
Steve nodded. “As far as we are taught, you are all blood-suckers out to eat
and fuck the world for your mindless lusts.” He didn’t mince words since he was
being perfectly honest about the obviously derogatory education he’d received.
Dressing himself, Wade shook his head and looked over at Steve, “and we’re
taught from the time we’re born that soul-eaters want to suck the life out of
everything and everyone on this earth, making them slaves to be used for their
pleasure.”
Sighing, Steve nodded. “I’ve heard something similar from a previous hunter
recently. Humans are taught the same thing, but think our species are the
same.”
“Hunters,” Wade spat, “those are the real problems in this fucked up world.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Wade Wilson. Please, sit down. Do you want anything? The
blankets should be sufficient for your Omega until his next feeding. Our
species usually feeds every two hours for the first couple of weeks to a month
before moving to once a day feedings.” Steve moved towards the door instead of
a chair, listening carefully for the sounds of his own mate and pup.
Bucky’s humming and soothing coos could no longer be heard, just the soft
murmurs of Sam and Riley’s voices.
“I’ll have to continue this shortly, Wade, but for now, I believe I can trust
you with your newborn. My own mate and pup might need soothing with your scent
in the house.” He looked over. “We barely had our Ceremony of Rest for our
other daughter before you arrived. For us, that’s a funeral.”
Wade walked over to Steve, looking up at the blond, “thank you for your
sanctuary, Steve Rogers.”
Hesitating, Steve reached out a hand to place on Wade’s shoulder. “You’ll need
a lot of instruction in these first months, Wade, so I would hope you accept it
for some time. I want your newborn to grow strong and healthy. And I want this
opportunity to learn from you. It is possible, I think, that we two species
have sorely misjudged one another.” He turned and opened the door.
***** Of Sanctuary and Rogues *****
Bucky stood outside of the door; the instant his eyes landed on the vampire
standing behind his mate, his whole demeanor changed into one of pure
aggression. His eyes flashed with fiery gold as he launched himself with a
snarl at Wade, bringing both tumbling to the floor. Bucky hissed and snarled,
Steve’s orders to protect their pup solely fueling this attack. Using his only
arm to pin down the stunned Wade, the vampyre used his sharp fangs to bite down
on Wade’s chest, sinking deep into the flesh, dark red blood seeping from the
wound, staining Bucky's chin and neck. The vampire growled and clawed at the
Omega, trying to push off his attacker.
“No!” Steve screamed. “Bucky stop! Back off. Do not protect!” He ran to the
hall, snatching Summer from the arms of the stunned Wilson clan member, Riley,
and hurried in. “Bucky, tend Summer. Feed her!” He thrust the pup into his
mate’s only arm, deliberately handicapping the protective Omega. He knew he
would have to apologize to Bucky for the contrary compelings.
Eyes still gold, Bucky scrambled to follow his Alpha’s orders, his mind reeling
from the confusing order to protect and back down. He snarled at Wade, still
shocked on the floor, red fluid seeping from the wound, his shirt slowing
becoming stained with the blood, as he cradled the pup close to his chest.
Blood gruesomely dripping from the Omega's chin, the bite on Wade's chest
having sunk down to the bone.
In a more soothing tone, Steve reiterated, “Tend Summer, Bucky, Feed her. You
did good. You saved her, now tend the pup.” His gold-ringed blue eyes held
worry and contrition.
Looking up at Steve, Bucky narrowed his eyes, he swiftly turned from the room,
leaving his mate and the vampire. He seemed oblivious or maybe uncaring about
his gruesome state.
“God, that’s going to take a lot of soothing,” Steve murmured and moved to
offer Wade a hand up, eyeing the wounds Bucky had gouged into the vampire. “I’m
sorry. I ordered him to protect himself and Summer when you first showed, but
didn’t retract the order, as you know. I didn’t think he would be right outside
the door, waiting.” Running a hand through his blond tresses, Steve met Wade’s
eyes. “He’s a fledgling and still follows my compelings, Wade.” Taking a deep
breath, he finally added, “that’s my mate, Bucky . . . formerly known as the
‘Winter Soldier’.”
“Oh, yeah, I know 'im,” Wade answered on a low, pained growl, “last time we met
he wasn't missing an arm . . . and wasn't so . . . chompy.” The vampire took
the offered hand and stood back up. The wound already healing but there would
be a definite scar.
“He used what he had on hand to attack. Is there something I can do to help
you?” The big blond waved at the injured, bleeding vampire.
“Nah,” Wade shook his head, hissing as he moved, jarring the open wound. “He's
strong for a fledgling.”
With a nod, Steve sighed, “yes, one of the things I wanted to discuss about you
and your newborn, actually, had to do with Bucky. You see, knotting and mating
a newborn is pretty unheard of, not quite totally obscure, but rare. So far as
I know, you, me, and my long ago sire are the only three to do it. My sire did
it deliberately, we found out. My mating a newborn was accidental. Do vampires
knot their newborns?” The blond offered one of the towels back to Wade,
glancing over the said newborn to judge his reaction.
The teen slept on, obliviously.
“No,” Wade answered, taking the towel, “we don't have to sleep with our
newborns to change them. It's actually pretty unheard of in my culture to bed a
newborn, they're too vulnerable.”
Sighing, Steve faced Wade and asked, “was your knotting because I told you to
mate him but didn’t explain enough?”
Wade snorted and began to clean up his bloody chest, “You don't compel me,
Steve. I mated him because it felt right.”
Shaking his head, Steve said, “you misunderstand, Wade. I want to know if you
thought the knotting was normal for us because you were doing something very
like mating.” He did take in the vampire’s explanation. “So, if I had told you
you could have resisted knotting? I, with Bucky, didn’t expect my reaction and
just went with it, despite knowing it was not done.” The blond flushed, but
truly wanted to try to understand this taboo subject.
“I knotted him because he asked me to,” Wade further explained.
Relief suddenly filled Steve and he nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Yes,
that’s basically what happened with Bucky, too. I haven’t had the chance to
discuss it with my safehouse leader, the one who aided us when Bucky was first
reborn.” With a glance towards the door, Steve frowned. “It was the pup I
planted in his belly that first day . . .” Shaking himself he sighed, “but
vampires don’t reproduce in such a way . . . do they?”
“You should go to him. He looked . . . upset to say the least. We will talk
more later.” Wade said, nodding towards the door.
“Compelling is a cruel form of control, I feel, and Bucky agrees. I only do it
in dire circumstances or when it would be pleasurable for him.” Steve offered a
thankful glance to his odd guest. “I ask that the pair of you stay in here
until I can make better arrangements. There are no windows for sunlight, so
that won’t hurt him . . . or you?” Steve left the last as a question, wondering
if anything he’d been taught about the enemy had been correct. He stepped past
Wade, out the door, softly latching it, but not locking it, behind him.
“Sam? Where’d he go?” Steve asked softly.
“Bedroom . . . he didn't look happy, and was that blood I saw?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. I had to compel him to stop killing our guest, Wade
Wilson.” Steve met his friend’s eyes. “He’s in sanctuary for now.” The blond
turned and raced upstairs for his shared suite, wanting to make sure Bucky
understand why his Alpha had used the will-denying compelling on him.
Bucky paced in the bedroom, still carrying and, as Steve had ordered, feeding
the pup in his arm. Blood still covered the lower half of his face and his
neck, the vibrant color contrasting greatly with the whiteness of his skin. His
eyes were still wild and burning gold. The Omega's body shook, his mind still
struggling with the contrasting orders blaring in his thoughts, half of him
wanted to go back down to that room to finish what he'd started, protect
himself and Summer, while the other half wanted to stay in the room and provide
for her. The major contradictions felt like they were tearing him apart.
Knocking softly, Steve warned, “Buck? Love, I’m coming in.” He slipped into the
room, shutting the door behind him. Frowning in remorse at the degraded,
disgusting state Bucky remained in due to confusion, the Alpha walked over to
the sink and wet a cloth in cool water. He walked over. “You did good, love,”
he cooed, beginning to wash the blood from Bucky’s pretty face.
The Omega's top lip curled in a snarl, head twitching away from Steve's touch,
his body reeling from the violent attack. He held Summer closer, still
transferring energy.
Slowly, clearly, Steve said, “I release you from all orders, Bucky. You have
total control.” He had to make sure his fledgling Omega could get past the
compelling and be himself, so the big blond used the formal words of release.
Bucky blinked, his eyes slowly changing back to their pale blue. Looking down
at himself, the Omega frowned at the sight of blood.
Holding up the cloth, Steve asked, “did you want to set Summer in her cradle
and let me clean you, please?” He added the ‘please’ as an extra assurance that
Bucky would know it was a request, not an order.
Nodding, Bucky set the satisfied pup in her crib. The Omega looked back to his
Alpha, his eyes wide and confused.
Reaching back over, Steve began washing Bucky once more, hoping they could get
past this quickly; he hated his mate being upset. “I’m sorry about the
confusion, Buck . . . you have every right to be angry.”
Bucky pulled back again, his eyes narrowed into a cold glare at the Alpha,
“that was cruel. I - - I couldn’t . . . my mind felt like it was tearing itself
apart.”
Nodding his acceptance of the accusation, Steve said, “it wasn’t meant to be
cruel. I forgot you aren’t old enough to realize you should let go the previous
order when given a new one.” He washed the blood and gore from Bucky’s neck.
“You forgot,” Bucky repeated on a growl, “how do you forget something like
that?”
“Because, Bucky,” Steve met his Omega’s eyes, “you’re always acting so much
older than a new fledgling . . . we’re mated . . . we have pups . . . there’s
so much about our relationship that defies being so young.”
“And you let that monster into the home?” Bucky’s eyes flashed with anger
again.
Nodding slowly, Steve let his hand drop, clutching the bloody rag. He gently
gripped Bucky’s chin in his other hand and maneuvered his lover’s face so he
could make sure he’d gotten all the mess cleaned. “That monster was here to
save a newborn, one of our kind deliberately converted to be killed, Buck. I
let him in and helped him finish the conversion.” Sighing, Steve shook his
head, “the fool fed from him in an effort to do his own conversion, but it
conflicted with the original attempt. If the newborn lives, he’ll be a child of
both worlds.”
“You know who that fool is, right, Steve?” Bucky’s golden eyes stared intently
at his mate.
Steve lifted his eyes and shook his head. “He calls himself Wade Wilson. I
believe he’s a rogue vampire. He said he’s met you before, I believe.”
“Almost got him, too,” Bucky sneered, “he went rogue because his clan has a
bounty on his head. He killed three of his own clan members and a human that
had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Slaughtered them all, ripped
their throats out. And you let that be in the same house as our pup.” The Omega
looked livid, his fangs bared, and he emitted a strong, bitter scent.
“And he’s been under constant watch. Right now Sam’s watching him.” Steve
tossed the cloth to the sink and ignored when it hit awkwardly then slid to the
floor. Gripping Bucky’s shoulders with both his hands, Steve met his lover’s
eyes. “I wouldn’t let him near the pup, and you would know that if you think it
through. I’m sorry that he has to be here, but he has been trying to save that
boy . . . and I think I know who the original attacker was.” Steve hung his
head and softly groaned, “I think it was a Rogers . . .”
“Who? I didn’t know there was any other Rogers’ in New York,” Bucky looked up
at Steve.
“Sit with me, Buck?” Steve asked.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the Omega looked up at his mate
expectantly.
“Thank you,” Steve sank next to his Omega and carefully wrapped an arm around
the slender brunet. Drawing a deep breath, Steve began, “Our clan has so few
members and most of them wander wherever they wish. I’m one of the few that
stay put, actually. And about five of our clan are rogues, Pierce being the
most notorious, though this attack doesn’t sound like him. He’d be more
inclined to keep the newborn for his sick pleasures.” The blond turned his head
to nuzzle at the brunet’s neck. “There’s one rogue, a male names Bruce, but he
disappeared several decades ago. He was an immature that went rogue. No one
knows if he’s managed to mature, but it’s doubtful. This doesn’t sound like the
Bruce I met, but I only saw him once, and an immature is so unstable, it’s
plausible.”
“So we hunt him down,” Bucky stated, knowing from the books Steve had given
him, that as clan leader, Steve had the right to punish any members that
committed a crime. This certain crime, abandoning and endangering a newborn,
was punishable by death.
“I think it’s not Bruce, though I’d love to find the immature rogue and see if
he needs containment for help or has stabilized in exile. He was horribly
abused by his own sire.” Steve met Bucky’s eyes. “Unfortunately, the Rogers
clan is well known for torturing their own non-mature members, Bucky. It’s
partly our crimes that have caused our downfall, as well as several very
successful hunters.”
Bucky’s jaw ticked, remembering his own brutal conversion; the ex-hunter also
recalled that the Rogers clan had the highest kill record for hunters. The
Romanovs being a close second.
“If you hear me out and still want Wade out of our house, I’ll find him
somewhere else to take the newborn, Bucky, but may I give my defense of his
sanctuary?” Steve offered the respect due a full mate to this fledgling Omega.
Nodding, Bucky continued to look at his mate.
Keeping their eyes locked, Steve said, “it’s not a logical defense, but after I
realized what he was trying to do, he reminded me of you in the Safehouse. You
weren’t what they believed and no one would stand up for you. I wanted to offer
him the chance you weren’t given, Bucky.”
Bucky sighed and looked down at his lap, his fingernails still had traces of
the vampire’s blood on them, “and I attacked him . . . like that Alpha attacked
me.”
“You attacked him on command, Buck. Nothing like an Alpha entrusted with a
newborn’s safety and acting in free will. You are not like that monster.” Steve
lifted his mate’s chin with a gentle hand. “I am sorry I confused and caused
you pain, Bucky, truly. Maybe it’s foolish of me, but like I said, I keep
forgetting how young you are. You act so mature.”
“Who is the clan member responsible for the attack on the boy?” Bucky asked.
“His name is Johann, and he is the clan leader, Bucky, though the elders have
debated taking the claim from him since he’s suspected of these kinds of
crimes. I’ve been suggested in his place, but really, I’m only a leader. A
minor rank. In a larger clan I would share that rank with several others in the
same city.” Steve let his mate go and stood, walking over to check on their
pup, offering a small smile, brief and gone almost immediately, for the little
girl.
“So we bring him in, have the boy identify him as the attacker,” Bucky offered,
his eyes filled with determination.
Without looking at his fledgling mate, Steve asked, in a neutral tone
indicating he was discussing something deceptively important, “as a hunter, had
you ever heard of Johann?”
“Only whispers. Pierce always gave me another - -” Bucky snapped his mouth shut
as Steve interrupted that statement.
“Pierce always wanted the power Johann wields. You didn’t even know Pierce was
a vampyre, so you wouldn’t know that he is over six hundred years. Johann is
almost two thousand, Bucky, and well on the way to being an elder if he wasn’t
under such suspicion.” He finally turned to look at the Omega.
“So, what? We just let him keep doing what he’s doing . . . because you’re
scared?” Bucky shook his head.
“God, no, Buck!” Steve shook his head and turned away from the pup, fully
facing his mate. “We have to stop these attacks. I’ve been trying to gather the
proof while the elders have appointed guards looking for Pierce, Bruce, and
Johann.”
“Do you know where Johann is?” The Omega asked.
“I think . . .” Steve drew a slow breath, meeting Bucky’s eyes, his own flaming
in the heightened gold of emotion, “that he is helping Hydra.”
Bucky growled and looked up at the Alpha, “which facility, Steve?”
“Germany,” the blond answered promptly. “I believe he is in Germany.”
“Then how do you also think he attacked the boy here in New York?”
Shaking his head, Steve answered, “because nothing restricts a vampyre’s right
to travel, Buck. He’d have means to cross oceans.”
“Do we?” Bucky asked, standing back up.
“We have to get permission from the elders and funding to utilize transport,
which they would provide. However, someone like Johann would have amassed his
own fortune by now and be able to roam at will.” Steve shook his head, his
adherence and respect to their laws and traditions the most glaring problem: he
obeyed the elders’ decrees so let them restrict him in this hunt.
Frustrated, Bucky growled again and ran his hand through his hair. Who knew
vampyre’s had so many goddamned rules? “What would happen . . . if we were to
go without permission?”
“Normally, nothing but being called to report, explain ourselves. Bucky, I’m on
restriction. I’ve received the formal command three days ago. I’m on
restriction while they investigate alleged mistreatment of a pair of newborns
and an addiction to conversion.” Steve flushed red with shame and anger.
“Am I also on restriction?” Bucky looked up at Steve.
“Not officially, but as a fledgling, you’re either supposed to be with your
sire or at a safehouse, and as a dam, you’re expected to keep your pup close at
all times.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it in his
frustration.
“Could I be punished if I left? Or get you in any more trouble?” Bucky
continued to probe.
“A sire is the one punished for a non-mature’s misdeeds, for a lack of proper
education and control.” Steve intoned the rule by rote, having been drilled in
it during his own safehouse days. He turned his eyes to Bucky in sympathy.
“Unless we want to go rogue or face severe punishment, there’s nothing we can
do except pass the information on.”
“Like they are going to do anything about it,” Bucky snarled, his anger at his
own mistreatment at the hands of other Alphas very evident.
Dropping his voice to a whisper, as if afraid he’d be overheard in his own
house, Steve growled, “the elders have grown stagnant and false to tradition.
Time was, a clan could hunt it’s own members to bring for justice if one was
suspected of such attacks.” HIs eyes burned in frustration.
“Then we need to do something about it, Steve. We can’t let newborns keep
getting abused and violations to laws be overlooked,” Bucky’s golden eyes
searched his mate’s face.
Hesitating, Steve studied Bucky almost as if he’d never seen the man before.
Softly, a mere breath, he whispered, “are you talking about going rogue?”
“The elders and every other Alpha in our clan, and other clans, despise me . .
. going rogue wouldn’t change anything. It’s you that life would change for,”
Bucky answered, his stance strong and determined, once more looking like the
confident hunter he used to be.
“We would live on the run, in hiding, Bucky. Even the minor comforts of this
house would be lost to us, to you and our pups. And . . . Bucky, we’d either
have to leave Winnie or disturb her rest. How can we rest a pup on the run?”
The Alpha didn’t want to hurt his family, to cause Bucky to have no home, no
security, even if the idea of defying this current pathetic government loomed
bitter.
Bucky looked to Summer, lying in her crib, “we leave Summer with Riley and Sam
. . . they’d take care of her, Steve. And Winnie will be safe here . . . I do
not want to disturb her. We can’t take a pup on the run . . . but - -” the
brunet took a deep, steadying breath, “I want a better world for our pup to
grow up in. She deserves only the best . . . and if that means leaving her for
some time . . .”
Steve nodded his agreement, but he said out loud, “the two of us alone will be
weak compared to someone like Johann or Pierce, with Hydra behind them.” He
looked determined but worried. Obviously, Steve would do what Bucky wanted.
“Not together we aren’t,” Bucky stated; he didn’t want to drag any of his few
friends into their mission, “we’ve never fought together, Steve.”
“Together,” Steve echoed, a faint smile coming to his face. “And now you have
all the strengths of a Rogers, Buck. We have to prepare if we’re going to do
this. We have to arrange for Summer and Wade and his newborn. Wade won’t find
sanctuary with any other house.” He shook his head, running his hand through
his blond locks once more, hair now standing on end from his restless
movements. “We should stay and help them until the newborn is a fledgling at
least. Wade won’t know how to help the boy otherwise.”
Bucky nodded, “that gives us a month to get ready.”
Steve strode to his mate and wrapped his arms around the lean brunet. “A month,
Bucky. Let’s hope Johann and Pierce are quiet while we’re preparing.” He lifted
Bucky’s chin and brushed a kiss over those plush lips. “I do love you, Omega.”
“And I love you, Alpha,” Bucky smiled faintly up at his mate.
“We should go check on our guests. We’ve left them some time on their own, and
after the ceremony, none of them will really be sleeping.” Steve slid around to
his mate’s side, one arm still wrapped around Bucky’s waist. “Sam will need to
know our plans for self-exile if we’re asking him to take Summer. If we are
killed, or fail, or even succeed and are banished because of it, she may be
with him for a long time.”
Leaning into Steve’s sturdy side, his left shoulder pressing into his mate’s
torso, Bucky nodded.
Steve dropped a kiss on Bucky’s temple and guided the younger vampyre from
their room. The pair moved back down to the room assigned temporarily to Wade,
stopping before Sam. “Sam, we need to talk about something very serious,
please.” It was immediately obvious that the pair had left their pup alone.
Looking surprised, Sam nodded, “alright . . . do you want to take this to the
den? More - -” Sam’s eyes flickered to the door, “private.”
“No, here is best since this must be said quickly.” Steve took a deep breath
and stiffened his spine. “When Wade has weaned his newborn, Bucky and I are
going to hunt down the vampyre we think attacked the boy . . . against the
commands of the Circle of Elders. We need Summer with someone who will care for
her as we would if we weren’t . . “ he dropped his tone very low, “going
rogue.”
Eyes widening, Sam looked absolutely stunned, “you two . . . you’re going
rogue?”
“Going rogue? Who is going rogue?” Natasha asked, her silent footsteps having
been unheard by any of the other vampyres.
Clint stood close to his sire, still unweaned even after three weeks.
Sighing, Steve looked down at his mate in his arm then turned to face the
safehouse leader behind them. “Bucky and I are going to break elder command to
find Johann Rogers. We think he’s the one who half converted the newborn in the
day-room, specifically to kill it. The newborn was saved by a vampire who
brought him to us.”
“So this house harbors ex-hunters, vampires, and law breakers? My kinda place,”
Clint joked softly.
Shooting an amused smile to her newborn, Natasha looked back to Steve and
Bucky, “Johann? He will kill you both, hang you by your entrails. Neither of
you are strong enough to face such a man. It’s a suicide mission.”
“And if you plan to go away for any length of time,” Clint said, the newborn
not stupid. He had been a very intelligent hunter before conversion, despite
his rather long newborn stage, “you’ll need a way to suppress fertility or risk
becoming with pup again.”
Bucky flinched, as if the thought of being pregnant so soon to Winnie’s death,
physically hurt him . . . in a way, he suppose it did.
Steve sighed, once more running a hand through his hopelessly disordered hair,
a very physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. “He’s right, Buck. We want
to be able to concentrate on the hunt.”
“Plus, I have sources that say that Johann is in New York, working with
Pierce,” Natasha offered.
“I thought that, too,” Steve jumped on the words.
“You look for the dark-haired German?” Riley’s voice came from the shadowed
hallway, down further towards the library.
“Yes,” Bucky answered, “but we are unsure if he is in Germany or New York.”
“He was in Philadelphia when he ordered the pack that attacked my home three
days ago,” the grieving blond spoke softly, stepping up next to his own clan
member.
“Johann ordered the hit?” Sam turned wide eyes to look at Riley.
“Ordered a pack? Of vampires?” Steve asked, stunned.
“Not of vampires, no,” Riley corrected. “A pack of those false ones that Hydra
has been turning out like newborns after a mating season. He had vampir and
dhampyr with him, and a pair of those foul zombies in the garden killing the
birds. I could see him from where I hid behind my bed.” Riley looked at Sam.
“I’ve met him at enough of those social functions I’ve been required to attend.
I’d know Johann Rogers anywhere.”
“And would you be willing to reveal this information to the Council of Elders,
Riley Wilson? This evidence is something they cannot ignore,” Steve asked
hopefully. Maybe they could avoid going rogue if Riley could convince the
council of the crimes.
The man known by the moniker ‘Strange Bird’ among his own clan merely bowed at
the shoulders. “I will testify at any time, Steve Rogers.”
Summer’s loud, shrilling cry echoed from the upstairs bedroom.
At the opening cry, Steve ran up the steps to his suite, faster than the others
could track. He threw open the door, prepared to fight whomever may have dared
to invade this sanctuary. “Summer?”
The pup in the crib continued to cry, a loud, wailing noise.
Scooping up his adopted daughter, Steve checked her over carefully, his senses
alert for any hidden dangers around him. He huddled protectively around the
pup, pulling her blanket back to see if she was hurt or wet or anything, but
Steve was highly alert. He did not believe Summer’s cry was from loneliness or
hunger; she was too good a pup for random bursts, and Bucky had overfed her
while compelled.
Bucky came rushing in, just a little slower than his mate, his eyes were a
bright gold and he stepped into the room. “You smell that, Steve?” The Omega
asked, crouching in a defensive stance as he scanned the room.
“Hit that board by your right foot and take the weapons you find. I smell
nothing.” Steve obviously trusted his mate’s senses. The Alpha curled
protectively around his pup as he moved backwards into the hallway, allowing
Riley to surge past him on the wing.
Opening the small, hidden space, Bucky grabbed the sturdy hatchet and his eyes
scanned the room again. The ex-hunter sniffed the air again, trying to follow
the fading scent.
The shutters flapped slightly and Riley let out a shrill whistle followed by
“the window!” when he realized the Rogers wouldn’t understand a Wilson warning.
Lack of communication was a weakness the recluse felt needed to be conquered as
soon as possible.
Bucky, turned to look at the window, taking a step closer to the paneled glass,
the bitter, almost burning, scent growing stronger as he got closer. Gripping
the hatchet tightly in his hand, the Omega growled low, a warning to whoever
was there that he would not allow his family to be hurt.
Riley flung himself through the air at top speed, over two hundred miles an
hour, as if in a dive but going straight across the room. He slammed into the
windows and out of the building, exposing the room and whoever hid in the area
to the bright sunlight, swooping to check for anyone else beyond the being he’d
just startled as he sped by.
Clenching to the outside shutter as the hundred seventy pound vampyre slammed
past, the dark-haired vampire who’d been intent on stealing the pup from the
abomination of an ex-hunter glared towards the flier he hadn’t heard was
staying with the Rogers members. Sunlight already draining him with each moment
he had to hide outside, the Alpha turned his glare into the room . . . and onto
that one-armed monster inside. He forgot to duck back out of sight, his hatred
freezing him, lips curled back, pup carrier slung over one shoulder,
inadvertently proclaiming his true motive for being there.
Snarling, baring his sharp fangs, Bucky launched himself with a speed only a
Rogers could possess. The brunet, seeming practically oblivious to the
weakening sun, tackled the intruding vampyre, making both of them fall from the
window onto the grounds below. Tumbling to the ground, hatchet falling from his
grasp, Bucky scrambled back to his feet, the two story drop hardly jarring the
protective Omega, and hissed at the Alpha.
Recovering his feet a bit slower, not equipped for such an unexpected fall and
having been out in the sun longer than the other vampyr, the Alpha growled low
and barked in a tone similar to Steve’s when he compelled Bucky, “back off,
bitch!” HIs long features had twisted into a mask of intense and ugly dislike.
“You do not compel me!” Bucky growled before springing himself back onto the
Alpha.
“Get off of me you offensive monster!” The tall, thin vampyre shrieked. He
reached over his neck to grip Bucky by the long hair, his other hand scrabbling
for purchase on the athletic Omega’s back. “Fuck! I’ll rip you apart before you
harm our pup! I won’t let you kill another one!”
Blinded by his rage and the need to protect, Bucky wrapped his legs around the
Alpha and in an incredible feat of strength brought the older vampyre down to
the grassy ground. Straddling the other being’s waist, he used his single hand
to shove the Alpha’s face to the side, the ex-hunter sank his fangs into the
man’s throat, ripping out the trachea with an animalistic growl.
A look of shock crossed the Alpha’s face before he seemed to slowly collapse
out of Bucky’s grip, falling to the ground in a boneless, twitching heap. Riley
swooped down and landed softly, taking a few steps as he did so, beside Bucky
and said “he’s the only one I sense, Dam Rogers.”
Bucky didn’t let go of the vampyre’s throat, his golden eyes wide, a wild gleam
in them. He continued to pin the Alpha’s head to the side, his fingers digging
into the dead vampyre’s face.
Not interfering with Bucky’s continued attack on the twitching, almost non-
responsive male, Riley let his wings dissipate and crossed his arms across his
wide chest. “If you have need, I will fly a message for you, even in this
bright daylight.” His blue eyes squinted in the draining light, but Riley held
his concentration leveled on the fledgling and his victim. “Osborn clan.”
Lifting his teeth from Osborn’s throat, a bright green energy leaked from the
wound, staining the Omega’s mouth and throat in a pattern of glowing streaks.
“I didn’t kill her . . . I didn’t kill her . . .” Bucky repeated the words over
and over again.
Riley, unafraid of the vicious killer, lay a hand on Bucky’s empty shoulder. He
softly said, “the uniformed peasant probably thought you killed a hundred
vampyre pups in your time as a hunter, before you became enlightened and
reborn.” Carefully, he pried Bucky’s fingers from the dead Alpha’s face. “Let
me take care of this garbage, Dam Rogers, you should wash his poison from your
face and tend your mate and pup.”
Nodding, Bucky slipped off his victim and shakily rose to his feet. He looked
down at the Alpha, the throat torn open almost down to the spinal cord.
“Use the front door, I suggest,” Riley said in a tone closer to amusement that
any had heard in their brief acquaintance with the reclusive Omega. The Wilson
member turned and hefted the corpse by it’s neck and an arm and dragged it to
the garbage pile at the curbside, dumping it there like so much public waste.
He then took a deep breath, knowing he was close to spent in the sun, and
spread his wings, heading for the open window on the second floor.
Turning, Bucky stumbled back to the front door, the drain of the sun finally
hitting him like a steam train. Opening the door, the weakened Omega collapsed
onto the plush, decorative rug in the foyer; bright green energy dripping from
his lips and chin.
A gentle, calloused hand brushed the brunet’s hair from his eyes, and Clint’s
voice asked, “Sire, do we feed him?”
“No,” Natasha said softly, “go get his Alpha, my darling.”
Nodding, Clint bound up the steps without a protest and tracked Steve down
easily. The young Omega tugged Summer from the man’s arms and ran back down,
Steve following blindly in desperation to get his pup back. Once they got to
the hall, the taller, muscular blond dropped to Bucky’s side, knowing suddenly
why the newborn had stolen the pup from him. Steve let some energy surge from
his lips to Bucky’s temple as he bent to scoop his mate into his arms, kissing
him lingeringly. Rising as he lifted the man up, Steve never said a word to his
guests, carrying Bucky down the hall to seal them both in the library for the
feeding that would come. He left his pup in the care of Natasha and her odd
newborn.
“I didn’t kill her . . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t kill her . . .” Bucky
continued to mutter, letting himself be carried.
“Of course you didn’t. She’s safe. Both of them are safe,” Steve responded,
reading his mate’s mind and emotions. He began stripping Bucky down, grabbing
yet another cloth to clean up the Omega, privately thankful his house was
decadent with a wash station in almost every room. Quickly wiping away the
eerie glow the energy had stained his lover, Steve transferred a kiss to
Bucky’s lips. “You saved them, my love.” The blond began to quickly undress the
brunet in order to provide as much flesh contact as the pair could get.
Bucky’s body trembled with exhaustion, his eyes still burning in golden fire.
“My love, will you let me feed you? Please? I want to bury myself if my
precious, brave mate and love you all day,” Steve murmured as he caressed Bucky
out of his clothes, channeling energy through his hands as he did so, trying to
quickly infuse the other vampyre as much as possible.
“Alpha?” Bucky whimpered, looking up at Steve, his eyes now half icy blue and
half gold, showing his body struggled with returning back to normal.
“Right here, my beautiful Omega,” the tall blond purred. He reached down a
large hand to spread his mate’s legs wide, taking all need to expend effort
from the exhausted man. Lining up quickly, knowing Bucky’s slick would start as
soon as he was breached, Steve slid deep in one smooth thrust, wincing at the
dry burn. He paused, letting Bucky adjust, the fledgling’s body respond to the
contact and radiating heat of his sire in their feeding link.
Whimpering at the uncomfortable, stretching burn, his natural fluids barely
starting to slick his tight passage, Bucky clawed the floor, still to weak to
lift his arm. “Hurts . . . Alpha, it hurts . . .”
“I know, my sweet heart,” Steve cooed, kissing his lover’s throat, lapping
gently at his mate mark. “Lie still, baby, and don’t move. It’ll stop hurting
when your slick runs.” The older vampyre slipped his hand down to encircle
Bucky’s member, stroking from base to tip and running a calloused thumb over
the soft head, his nail dipping slightly in the slit, before he repeated the
action over and over.
Bucky mewled softly, his body going lax from his mate’s gentle order. His slick
already producing more, turning the burning sensation into one of pleasure.
“When you feel your slick, you can move, Buck,” Steve countered his order, very
aware how he compelled his lover. He didn’t want to risk another episode like
earlier, especially during a feeding. “I love you, my Omega. You know that,
right?” Steve nipped lightly at the scar on Bucky’s neck, waiting for the other
man to move to indicate his readiness.
Once slick began to readily run down the Omega’s thighs, Bucky shakily lifted
his arm to wrap it around Steve's neck, canting his hips to push his Alpha in
deeper.
“Good boy,” Steve crooned approvingly and began to thrust, sliding over his
mate’s prostate every stroke, wanting to bring the man pleasure as he fed so
desperately. Steve didn't play sexual energy games this time, allowing his
energy to run from every pore in small doses, like he would with a newborn
after second feeding, providing steady nourishment without overwhelming or
overstimulating. Finally, Steve began moving his hands, caressing his lovely
mate’s body, worshipping Bucky with his hands, his own body. “I love you,” he
kept repeating, softly, over and over to his tired mate . . . his hunter Omega.
“I love you, Alpha,” Bucky murmured, “I did good, right, Alpha?” The brunet’s
eyes looked up at Steve.
“You did beautifully, my love. You defended us like a good Omega dam. I am so
proud of how you fought that beast, my Bucky. So very proud.” Steve continued
his caresses, his kisses, his loving encouragement, hoping that this feeding
would help ease Bucky’s lingering confusion and resentment over the vampire’s
addition to their eclectic house. Smiling behind his red-gold beard, Steve
kissed Bucky’s eyelids gently then his mouth. “You are a better defender than
any Alpha or Omega I’ve ever met. I am so privileged to love you, my Omega.”
Bucky hummed under the praise, his eyes finally returning to their normal
state. His nails scratched at his Alpha’s skin, pulling his mate closer. “My
Alpha . . .”
As Steve picked up his pace, thrusting faster and harder, as deep with each
stroke as Bucky’s body would allow, the Alpha added one last bit of praise for
his needy Omega. “And you will teach Summer and all our other pups how to fight
as well as you, so we will be a strong clan.” He nipped at Bucky’s scar,
lapping the small leak of endorphins the gentle bite let out.
Panting, Bucky's back arched off the floor and he came with a soft cry, his
seed coating both of their abdomens.
Bucky’s release brought Steve’s orgasm raging out in hot, wild bursts of hot
seed, painting the insides of Bucky’s passage, pushing that last big reserve of
energy into Bucky along with his life-seed. Steve collapsed willingly over his
mate, holding himself up on his forearms to avoid crushing the smaller man. He
kissed Bucky in a long, lingering promise of his love, enjoying the sensation
of his energy being drawn into the other, so precious, man. “My Bucky,” he
purred.
Some time later, after Steve had put his mate to bed in one of the spare rooms,
the Omega still exhausted and reeling from the vicious attack, Sam walked up to
the blond vampire in the large library. “We need to get ahead of this, Steve.
You know just as well as I do that the Osborn clan may be small but they are
not the most stable of vampyres. Harry will be looking for revenge.”
“If Harry would want revenge. Bucky defended us against Harry’s former sire,
Norman.” Steve sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. “We need to get
the facts to the elders. That man attacked us in our own house.”
Nodding, Sam looked genuinely angry, “and to take a pup from its dam at such a
tender age? I will send Redwing with a message, it’s best we get to them before
Harry, or else Bucky will be arrested and held for trial.”
“If Riley would lend his own voice, he witnessed the entire attack?” Steve
asked. “How’s he doing? I haven’t had a chance to check on him since I was
tending Bucky.” He didn’t remind Sam that, as the sire, Steve would be the one
held responsible for Bucky’s actions.
“He is well,” Sam answered, “a little weak from being in the sunlight . . . but
while you were with your mate, I tended to him. He is resting now.” The dark-
skinned man walked over to the writing desk; he grabbed a thin piece of
parchment and a pen before scribbling down a quick message for the elders.
“They will send over someone from the Maximoff clan to tap into Bucky’s mind,
to see the entire assault.”
Nodding, Steve asked, “do you think Riley will let them tap him, too? A witness
as mature as he would be valuable . . .”
“I’m not sure,” Sam rolled up the small piece of paper and tucked it into a
small tube. He called for Redwing. Sam knew that Riley was keeping his Omega
status a secret from the elders . . . from everyone, really; and by allowing a
Maximoff to read his mind . . . he’d be instantly discovered. After his
companion entered the library, Sam attached the tube to the falcon. He
communicated where he wanted the message delivered and with a soft coo for his
master Redwing flew off to accomplish his task.
Closing the window for Sam since he didn’t have a messenger chute in the
library, Steve sighed. “Is there a problem, Sam? Did Riley indicate he didn’t
want to get involved?” He looked over his shoulder to his friend, hands still
on the inner shutters.
Sam looked at his friend and in a low tone, a near whisper, he answered, “Riley
has been . . . hiding something.”
“And so he wouldn’t want a Maximoff peeking,” Steve said. He nodded and let go
the window, turning fully to the darker skinned vampyre. “I would help if I
could, but I do not expect you to give away Riley’s secrets since he is not my
clan. But anything I can offer, you know it is your’s, Sam.”
“Do you think your Omega can handle a Maximoff in his mind? He’s only just come
out of his . . . depression,” Sam chose the word to describe Bucky’s week long
dissociation carefully, not wanting to offend his friend.
“I think if the Maximoff is Wanda, he might, but then again, he might hesitate
since she attacked him. But of all the Maximoff’s, Wanda has the most sympathy
for Bucky.” Steve gestured towards the seats close to his desk and moved to
settled on the edge of one, perched much like one of the Wilson raptors. “There
are so many who need us here . . . so much trouble in these times. I need to
find Johann and stop him, as well as Pierce, but . . . I want to help those
still here.” The blond Alpha ran his hand over his neck and frowned behind his
beard. “I wish I could form a special clan house or safehouse for those who are
true to the old ways, but have an open mind to other species.”
Sitting down, Sam looked at his friend, “starting a new clan would require
approval from the elders.”
“You would think that with the decimation of the Rogers clan and the rogue
nature of many of the remaining members, the elders would allow one of the few
remaining true Rogers members to join an untarnished clan.” Steve sighed and
put his forearms on his legs, large hands dangling between his thighs.
“You mated one of the deadliest hunters in history, Steve,” Sam didn’t sound
upset or judgemental, just stating facts, “I am sure they thought of banishing
both of you. Any requests you make now will be tarnished by the simple fact
that your Omega is the ‘Winter Soldier’.”
Nodding, Steve looked down at his hands, fingers twining and untwining
repeatedly. “I wish I could move my private house somewhere far from the rising
evil in our race . . and surround myself with those I consider friends. I am
tired of the civil wars in our midst.” Looking up at Sam, blue eyes glowing
with a golden hue, the blond man said, “and these wars threaten to increase as
some of our most powerful members engage in truly heinous acts.”
“I heard the upper east is nice,” Sam informed, nodding in agreement with
Steve.
“New England? The north territories?” Steve looked thoughtful then shook his
head. “But that would mean moving Winnie . . . and I don’t think Bucky will be
ready to do that for a long time, if ever.”
Sighing, Sam nodded, “you know . . . there’s something Riley told me about the
attack. Norman tried to compel your mate to back down.”
Surprise lit his eyes and Steve leaned forward. “Why would a vampyre as mature
as Osborn have thought he could compel a clan member not his own? That’s a
fledgling mistake. Was he suffering delusions?”
“Maybe he believed that Bucky would be weak enough, given he just lost a pup,
that he’d be able to control him? It has happened, although it’s very rare,
that an Alpha of a different clan was able to compel a weakened newborn or
fledgling.” Sam appeared to be thinking the situation over.
“But never a mated Omega,” Steve smiled grimly. “So, my alleged crimes haven’t
been spread to all of the community, just the elders.” He slid his hand into
his desk and pulled out a rolled parchment. He offered it to Sam. “The Circle
sent this to me. It arrived only days ago.” He sat back in his chair as he
watched Sam unroll then read the missive from the elders stating he was on
restriction for his ‘crimes against a newborn.’
“Who reported you?” Sam looked up at Steve after he’d scanned the entire page.
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know, Sam. Someone from the Romanov safehouse,
obviously, despite a safehouse Alpha clearing me already, but I can’t think who
would despise me enough to do this. Bucky’s reputation alone was enough to get
him in containment with a little bit of pressure, but someone had to hate me to
want to weaken my clan even further.” Sitting forward again, taking the
document and glancing over it briefly with a frown, Steve added, “I’ve thought
of those in the safehouse and the only ones I trust are right now my guests. It
could be any of the rest of the members.”
“Do you think Pierce could have done it anonymously?” Sam asked.
“Or Johann . . . but I think,” Steve took a deep breath, hating how paranoid he
was sounding, “I think I have another enemy in the clans and can’t figure out
who it might be. Everyone has always been so polite to my face.”
“And if you go down . . . your mate wouldn’t be far behind,” Sam looked upset,
“Bucky, as your true mate, wouldn’t be able to live without your energy. He’d
starve.”
“And whoever knew that . . . that is my enemy. No one but a handful from the
safehouse knows Bucky’s true connection to me. Most think I forced the mating.”
Steve slid the missive back into his desk and turned back to Sam. Running a
hand over his beard, a habit Steve only did when truly upset, the vampyre
softly said, “the only way Bucky would survive would be to have a pup of his
own womb able to feed him. The pup would have to be strong to handle such a
task, mature.” Looking at Sam, the Rogers leader shook his head. “Bucky’s a
long way off from having such a fallback relative.”
“And he’d always be vulnerable . . . not strong enough to protect himself,” Sam
mused, tapping a long finger against his chin.
“Exactly, a pup can’t have sex with him to give him that part of the feedings.”
Steve sighed. “Whoever is doing this has thought this out. Someone is trying to
take down Bucky and me, not just Bucky.”
“Right now, I do not believe it is wise to go rogue, Steve . . . it’d only fuel
the charges against you,” Sam’s brown eyes met Steve’s blue ones, “and if you
get yourself locked up, the only people you are hurting are Summer and Bucky.”
“And Wade and his newborn,” Steve added. “No other vampyre would take Wade in,
and without Wade, his charge will be lost. The newborn needs blood as well as
energy.” He met his friend’s eyes. “You see my dilemma? Without going rogue, I
cannot hunt down Johann or Pierce. But if I go rogue, I hurt people I care
about or have a responsibility to.”
“I’d say try to wait this out . . . play it safe for the time being. If you
abide by the laws the elders cannot do anything to you or your family,” Sam
suggested.
“I did agree with Bucky to wait until Wade’s newborn is out of newborn stage,
so I can help Wade. He needs the education as much as his newborn.” Steve
finally rose to his feet and stretched his back, listening with his powers for
his mate, checking to see if Bucky was well. He relaxed when he was certain his
Omega was fine. “Hopefully in that month, the Council will see my actions as
necessary and my mate as a non-threat but an asset.”
Bucky silently walked down the hall, his limbs still felt heavy but he couldn’t
sleep . . . not after everything that had happened. He couldn’t hear Summer
crying, so the dam assumed his pup was safe for the time being. Stopping in
front of the conjoined room that Riley and Sam shared, the Omega tentatively
called, “Riley Wilson . . . it’s Bucky Rogers . . . I was hoping we could
talk?”
After a short pause the door opened silently and the blond stood there looking
sleepy and mussed. He was dressed in absolutely nothing but a sheet, his own
wardrobe left behind in Philadelphia like his books and other possessions.
Without a word, the sleepy vampyre backed up to allow Bucky entrance to the
suite.
Ducking his head, Bucky didn’t step into the dark room, “I am sorry, I
should’ve known you’d be sleeping. I can come back later when you are rested?”
“You came to me for a reason of import or you, too, would be sleeping. I can
attend you and sleep later. Please, sit.” Riley shut the door softly after
Bucky hesitantly entered and led the brunet to a pair of chairs set by the
cradle holding the sleeping Summer. The pup looked warm and content.
Smiling at his pup, Bucky gently traced a feather-light finger down her cheek
before turning back to Riley. “I - - I have some questions?” The Omega sat down
in one of the chairs, his eyes never leaving the older blond’s.
“Naturally. I hope I have your answers.” Riley offered a soft, fleeting smile
before falling back to his normal, somber attitude. “Do you want water?” he
offered politely.
Shaking his head, Bucky ran his hand through his hair and started, “you . . .
you smell different than any other Alpha I’ve met . . .”
“I smell much as you do, Bucky . . . I may call you Bucky if we’re talking
personal?” Riley politely awaited permission.
“I prefer Bucky,” the brunet offered Riley a smile.
Nodding, Riley continued, “I’m an Omega, not an Alpha. I never became an Alpha
after maturing.”
“I didn’t think that was possible?” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his gold
ringed eyes looking interested.
“Have you been told that you might not become an Alpha, either?” Riley asked
point blank.
Bucky nodded, “they thought that because Steve mated me so young . . . that I
might not ever mature past a newborn or fledgling.”
Rolling his blue eyes, a hint of maroon shining through, the blond wrapped his
sheet around him tighter and sighed. “They’ve given you confusing information.
He mated you for one of two reasons: he was abusing you or he is your true
mate. If he was abusing you, you would have been removed from his care already.
Thus, we can assume you are true mates. True mate Omegas never become Alphas.
It’s a very rare condition, often disputed by the elders for legal reasons, but
the venerable sometimes tell stories to newborns and fledgelings. A true mate
is half of a pair who is destined to mate with a specific being. They are
supposed to be stronger together than apart, as if they are separated both will
die for an inability to feed. However . . . and this is the part which the
elders use as proof that this is a fairy story, if a true mate has not yet
encountered its other half, feedings can be done normally. I personally think
some true mates never cross paths and die alone and unhappy.” He sounded so
serious about the subject, not at all like he relayed a legend or fairy story.
“Is that why Steve could never kill me? Why he didn’t let me die the night I
was reborn?” Bucky asked, showing that he’d always known that facing the
powerful Steve Rogers as a hunter was nothing short of a death sentence.
“Exactly so,” Riley confirmed. “It is why neither of you would kill the other
no matter how much you tried. You were destined to mate and have strong pups.
Your early mating, however, is why Winnie was born too soon, made too soon.
That was out of either of your hands.”
Fresh pain flicked in Bucky’s eyes, the thought of Winnie still caused his
chest to ache for his pre-pup.
“I can be less blunt and honest if you prefer,” Riley offered at the pain he
saw.
“Does the emptiness ever go away?” Bucky questioned softly, looking over at the
blond Omega, pale eyes agonized.
Thinking over that for some time, Riley shook his head. “It never leaves,
Bucky, but you will learn to live around it and will be able to hold your
future pups. At least, that is what I was told when I lost my pup.”
“What if I can never have my own pups? What if they all die?” Bucky whimpered,
drawing his knees to his chest; he wrapped his arm around his legs.
Frowning, Riley studied Bucky. “Why do you think you won’t? Is it because one
was injured in the womb?”
“What if this is my penance for all the sins I committed?” Bucky looked
terrified, finally speaking his true fear, a fear he hadn’t vocally told his
own mate, although he suspected that the Alpha probably knew.
“You were reborn, Bucky. According to the old ways, that washed away all your
former sins. That life ended and you started fresh, with a new life. What you
do with this life is what you should be judged on.” Riley sat forward, letting
his sheet go and gripping Bucky’s hand in both of his. Riley’s sheet pooled
around his hips. “Look at me, Bucky.”
Tear-washed eyes lifted to look at the older Omega, Bucky waited for Riley to
speak, not trusting himself to do so.
“You were impregnated within the first day. Pregnant newborns are rare because
often the newborn is too busy absorbing the energy out of the seed to use it
for it’s other purpose. Thus, only lifeless seed remains. However, rarely, a
newborn is able to draw enough energy from its sire that the seed is not used
for energy. Thus, it is viable for producing pups if the Omega is fertile. You
were fertile and probably are again. However, a newborn, especially in the
first twenty-four hours, is still converting. A newborn’s energy and species
has adjusted mut the body is suddenly becoming and Omega, and a male especially
will take time to fully develop. Thus, pregnancy can often lead into
miscarriage or stillbirth, or even live deformities. I can count on one hand
the viable, healthy newborn’s pups created since my own conversion five hundred
years ago.” Riley continued to hold Bucky’s hand, watching the darker vampyre’s
eyes carefully.
Bucky’s eyes widened, he’d expected Riley to be about Steve and Sam’s age . . .
but this vampyre was nearly the same age as Alexander Pierce himself!
Slowly, the blond began to stroke the other Omega’s hand. “Does that ease your
misplaced guilt? Winnie was created too soon by a love that had waited three
hundred years to flourish.”
The brunet swallowed but that didn’t stop the sob that ripped from his throat;
he hung his head and let the tears fall down his cheeks.
“You can feel free to grieve your pup without guilt, Bucky. You did nothing to
harm her and neither did your mate.” Riley tenderly tugged Bucky into his arms
and held him close, a warm tight embrace that didn’t smother. “You are a good
dam. If you ever doubt that, look to Summer. An adopted pup doesn’t usually
thrive so well, and yet one would think she’d come from your loins she is so
healthy.” Riley didn’t let go, but he waited for Bucky to signal he was done
with the contact. Riley could hold the grieving Omega as long as Bucky needed;
though a solitary vampyre, Riley didn’t lack a desire to be with people he
trusted or cared for, and this former hunter had earned Riley’s trust that very
day.
Bucky’s arm wrapped tighter around the other Omega, his face tucked firmly
under Riley’s chin. He continued to cry gasping sobs as he finally openly
grieved for his lost pup.
Softly, in Bucky’s ear, Riley said, “I, too, had a newborn pregnancy. It ended
with a pup who died in my arms within a week and no one could figure out why.
She wouldn’t feed.”
The younger Omega couldn’t imagine having to go through that; he couldn’t
imagine holding his live pup, his Winnie, only to slowly lose her to such a
painful death.
“I still miss her,” Riley said simply, finally pulling back as he sensed Bucky
didn’t need such a firm hug, though he kept his arms around the other Omega.
“But the pain lessened to a dull ache in time. Perhaps if I had a mate or at
least a companion other than Snap, things would have been different.” The blond
shrugged softly.
“Why did you hide that you are a mature Omega?” Bucky asked softly, eyes red
from the crying, but he seemed to be coming down from the body-wracking sobs.
“Because many of our kind are idiots, Bucky. Omegas are considered weaker.
Mature Omegas are considered somehow handicapped, relying on an Alpha to
protect and guide it. Hundreds of years ago, a mature Omega was considered an
abomination. There is a story told by some of the elders. Apparently, it is
believed that mature Omegas signify an end to vampyre life as we know it. Way
back, that was taken as a death omen. Now, they simply think it’s a sign that
the race is weakening, so mature Omegas are to be watched carefully and
contained if they show signs of being too . . . powerful.” Riley met Bucky’s
eyes. “They will find any excuse to claim you need containment for your own
good, Bucky. That is why only you and Sam know my true nature.”
“I won’t let them lock me in a cage,” Bucky growled, “I don’t understand why .
. .” the brunet shook his head, pulling back more so he could wipe his hand
across his damp cheeks, “why all the vampyres are so divided. They’re killing
each other with their ignorant hate . . . we won’t need hunters to wipe our
species off the map.”
Once more looking thoughtful, Riley slowly said, “there are some members, both
old mature and young, spread throughout the clans that think as you and I do,
Bucky, but they are few and are silenced. Those in power keep the fear going so
the clans rely on them. The leaders and elders, for the most part, crave the
power they have when their members are in fear and look to them for guidance.
It is like a parent keeping its pup in a cage, supposedly for safety. This
results in the pup never gaining self esteem and independence. Our people are
crippling our young through their new ideas of protection and coddling. I have
found that many of the old ways are better . . . though some of those also need
changing.” The scholarly vampyre shook his head with a sigh. “The entire
government needs a revamp, to make a pun, but no one has the balls to do it.”
Bucky sighed and said, “Steve wants to create a new clan, one that doesn’t
believe in the abuse of newborns or discrimination against its own members.”
“I would join such a clan if it existed, though I mean no disrespect to Sam,”
Riley breathed the name without really thinking, his eyes softening.
Noticing the loveful expression, Bucky smirked at Riley, his pale eyes dancing.
“You like him?”
“Yes,” Riley answered simply, directly. Apparently, the older vampyre was an
honest soul. “I have never spent time with him before and now I wish I had
sought him out.” Riley turned his darker blue eyes on Bucky, his eyes still
looked half closed, as if he either squinted or couldn’t get them open due to a
lack of energy, but somehow the look was more intriguing than detracting. “He
makes my body want to sing, and I have never felt that before . . . as if we
are flying while on the ground.”
“He is a good vampyre, he didn’t like me very much at first . . . but he saved
my life the night I lost Winnie,” Bucky chuckled softly, smiling as he looked
at Riley, “that is how I feel with Steve, Riley. Like your body can’t get
enough . . . his fingers make your skin tingle.”
Smiling once more, that rare smile that lit the man’s face and caused his eyes
to open slightly wider, the blond nodded. “He is a very good vampyre.” Riley’s
smile chased away once more. “He deserves a good world to live in, not the
madness he has found around him. All of us deserve the chance at peace. And
now, I sound maudlin.”
“No, you don’t,” Bucky shook his head, he stood back up and walked over to the
edge of the crib, looking down at his sleeping pup, he said, “we all deserve
happiness. And our future generations deserve to live in a world where love is
celebrated, not punished.”
“Exactly,” Riley nodded and gathered his sheet around him once more, a soft
sweet scent wafted from him. “You have other questions? Concerns?” Riley looked
over at Bucky.
Turning to look at Riley from over his shoulder, Bucky asked, “when that Alpha
tried to compel me . . . my first instinct was to follow . . . how is that
possible?”
“You are an Omega in need of a pup, because you are fertile, whether you are
emotionally ready or not to bear another. He could smell the grief and heat and
took advantage by presenting a strong, commanding Alpha who seemed virile. Your
instinct says mate and breed. You mind and heart overruled that because you are
who you are.”
“But it’s possible that another Alpha, other than Steve, could control me?”
Bucky’s voice barely reached over a whisper, his eyes fearful.
“Yes,” Riley stood and walked over on bare feet, sheet gathered around his
shoulders and dangling around his knees, whispering as he walked. “But, like I
said, it is because you haven’t delivered a viable pup of your own yet. It
makes your body thinks you are still a newborn. Thus, you can be controlled
like a newborn. Most newborns cannot be controlled outside their clan, but
there are ways known to older vampyres and scholars like me. Norman Osborn,
your attacker? He was a scholar.”
Closing his eyes, Bucky released a deep breath, the thought of being
controlled, of having no free will, terrified him. “God, if . . . if an Alpha
was strong enough - -” the brunet shivered.
“And now you see why most of our kind think Omegas are weak. Because once we
have been pregnant, we are vulnerable.” Riley looked down at Summer and smiled
softly, almost wistfully. He lowered his voice. “But I know that an Omega
defending its pups and mate will be a more ferocious fighter than any safehouse
Alpha.”
“That’s all I could think about when I saw Osborn . . . he wanted to take
Summer,” Bucky trailed another finger down his pup’s face, making the girl
squirm but not wake.
“As a former hunter, the elders should be utilizing you as one of the clan, if
not the entire culture’s, defenders, Bucky. They are foolish to ignore your
skills and instinct. Once you have gotten more practice and training with your
new abilities, you will be able to resist all but the most powerful of
compellings. You will be one of the deadliest because you have been trained
from youth.”
“I want to take down Hydra,” Bucky said firmly, lifting his eyes to look back
at Riley, “they need to pay for all that they’ve done, the lies, the hate that
they spread. I know what facilities to hit that would make them weakest . . . I
know officers and hunters. I remember everything about them . . .”
Nodding, Riley softly asked, “if we were able to form our own clan, in an
obscure place, would you be willing to desert our people for such a place?”
“Yes,” Bucky answered honestly.
“Then may I suggest a rebellion against the madness? Once we take down Pierce
and Johann and the inner core that stabilizes Hydra, we steal our close ones
and run and hide in some far off place. Of course, we would have to make sure
to convert lots of trustworthy people so our clan would flourish.” Riley raised
his eyes from studying the pup to look directly at Bucky, manner completely
serious.
“There would be nothing that would make me happier,” Bucky said, keeping the
other Omega’s eyes.
“Then I say we do this thing, fight our battles, then go rogue.” Riley yawned
and flushed, his entire face and shoulders turning red due to his fair skin. “I
apologize. It has been a very rough week.”
Bucky smiled and nodded, he picked up his pup, softly cradling her against his
chest, “I will let you rest, Riley Wilson. Thank you for speaking with me.”
“I consider you my friend since your have opened to me and allowed me the same
pleasure of freedom. If you will allow it?” Riley offered his rare, very
fleeting smile, the expression gone as quickly as it had come.
“Of course, it is nice to have friends in this time,” Bucky offered another
smile to the blond, before stepping towards the door, “and I would be honored
to think of you as my friend, as well?”
“Thank you, I would like that, Bucky.” The blond stepped to the brunet’s side,
reached up to the taller man, and kissed his cheek. “Rest well, Bucky. We’ll
have much to plan tonight with our families.” And the reclusive vampyre turned
to his bed, moving almost silently to the welcome softness. He had long been
among his own clan without feeling as if he had a family. Now, Riley felt he
could build one, starting with his new friend, the other Omega, Bucky and that
tiny pup, Summer. Perhaps even the Alphas would turn out to be people Riley
could trust. HIs life had been filled with horror as a youth, and he was ever
wary.
***** Of Seeking and Finding *****
The next day, a loud booming knock echoed throughout the large mansion. A deep,
masculine voice called out, “Steve Rogers . . . I am Stephen Maximoff, the
Council of Elders has sent me here to investigate the claims of assault and
murder against your mate, James Rogers.”
Steve walked to the door sedately, though he hadn’t felt such turmoil inside
since his own fledgling days with Pierce. Steve threw a glance at Bucky and
offered him a quick smile. Opening the door, Steve looked over the claimant on
the front entrance, determining that he was indeed the being sent to judge the
case. “Please come inside, Stephen.” He moved out of the way, not barring his
house, not hiding anything.
Bowing his head slightly, Stephen stepped into the home and looked directly at
Bucky, who stood in the entryway of the sitting room, holding Summer. The Omega
looked wary; Steve had told him that a Maximoff would be sent to tap into his
mind . . . but he’d hoped that it would’ve been Wanda . . . not some stranger.
Steve closed the door behind his guest and turned. “Please may I present my
fledgling, James. Bucky, this is Stephen Maximoff.” He walked over to his mate,
eyes worried, frowning softly behind his golden-red beard. Gently, he eased the
pup from Bucky’s arm. “Would you like to show Stephan where he can comfortably
interrogate you?”
Bucky looked up at Steve, his eyes wide and scared; would his mate not be
allowed to be with him while Stephen interrogated him?
Inadvertently displaying the understanding his bond with Bucky had granted him,
Steve smile gently. “I’ll be right here, Buck. Unless you wish otherwise, a
non-mature is not separated from its sire.”
Nodding once, Bucky swallowed and looked back at Stephen, “if - -” the Omega
had to clear his throat to break the nervous tightening that softened his
voice, “if you’d follow me?”
“Good boy, Bucky,” Steve praised in a soothing voice, letting his Omega lead
the entire court, for there was no questioning they were in a court proceeding.
Stephen followed the taller brunet further into the sitting room, his light
blue eyes, ringed in a vibrant red, scanning the space.
A soft voice from the doorway unexpectedly interrupted with an offer that could
be accepted, if needed or believed to be genuine, “If you need a witness, I
stand behind the Rogers fledgling.” Riley stood there, quiet and calm, almost
serene, and willing to go through this procedure that would reveal his own
secrets in order to help Bucky.
“I will first question the fledgling, and if I deem it necessary I will call
for you, Riley Wilson,” Stephen answered the man with a respectful nod of his
head.
“Thank you. I will wait wherever you deem appropriate,” Riley replied.
“I must interrogate the accused alone, it took a lot to allow his mate to be
with him,” Stephen’s eyes flickered to Steve, “the council wanted me to
separate the two of you. However, I believed that would’ve been cruel and only
frighten your mate. They listened to my reason after a while.” Looking back to
Riley, he added, “so I must ask you to vacate the room, please.”
Nodding, Steve turned and offered the pup to Riley, who took it without word.
Steve instructed, “if you can wait in the day-room with the other guests,
please?”
Bowing formally at his shoulders, Riley offered his rare smile to Bucky before
carrying the gurgling, cooing pup from the room.
Motioning to one of the chairs, Stephen looked over to Bucky, “you might want
to sit, Dam Rogers. It will only take a few moments . . . but I’ve been told
that the process can leave one a little weak.”
Not wishing punishment to come down on Wanda since she had attacked Bucky as a
newborn, but knowing all of Bucky’s memories would be opened to this man, Steve
softly said, “Bucky has encountered a painful Maximoff demonstration, Stephen.
Please understand his fear of your procedure. I tried to explain it so he would
understand in his grieving time.” Steve was also not above reminding the court
that Bucky had lost a pup not long ago.
“Ah, Yes, Wanda. She turned herself over for punishment after the assault . . .
but we - -” Stephen looked at the Omega, face eerily neutral, “did not punish
her severely for the crime. It was an emotional time, she is still only a youth
after all.”
“I do not ask for her punishment, Stephen, and thank you for the information. I
wish to let you know that Bucky is frightened of what he perceives will be a
painful procedure. In your maturity, you will know how to soothe him, for I
refuse to prejudice the court by compelling him.” Steve finally sank to a
chair, near enough for Bucky to sense his energy, but not close enough to touch
or interfere unless he used his powers.
Nodding, Stephen kept his gaze on the Omega, “if you’d sit for me, Dam Rogers,
I will explain the procedure before I perform it.” Once Bucky sat on the edge
of one of the chairs, his wide, gold-ringed eyes looked up at the Maximoff.
Lowering himself down so he was at eye-level with the fledgling, the Alpha
continued, “I will place my hands on each one of your temples. You will feel a
slight . . . tugging sensation, one that might make make you lose consciousness
for a few moments. I will tap into your memories and only look into the attack
in question; I do not wish to probe any further. After I pull away, you might
feel a bit lightheaded . . . but this procedure is nothing like the pain Wanda
inflicted on you, so do not fear that.”
After Stephen finished, Steve instructed calmly, “hide nothing, my love. Let
him see everything you have ever done. He will only use the information he
needs to determine your sentence.” Steve knew the recent talk of going rogue
could be forgiven; it had never been forbidden to discuss these things, just to
act on them. The mere fact that the pair had stayed showed a loyalty to their
people.
Looking at Bucky, Stephen said, “I will only look into all your memories with
your permission. I was only sent here to look into the assault on Norman
Osborn.”
“Once his innocence or guilt is determined, Stephen Maximoff, and with his
permission, I would like to have my own crimes judged. I received a command
from the council which restricts me from going after my wayward clan members
due to the pending case . . . which has been pending since Bucky’s conversion.”
Steve’s blue eyes remained calm and vibrantly sapphire, a hint of his golden
fire. The council rarely made sentences wait so long, proving something was not
quite right with this particular claim against Steve.
“I want everything looked at,” Bucky answered softly, “that way I can finally
feel like I’ve been reborn.”
“After I am finished with your mate, Steve, I will look into your memories as
well,” Stephen answered, looking over at the tall blond, “and I will report all
findings to the council.”
“Thank you for your kindness and this chance to prove ourselves.” Steve stood
and bowed formally, then sank down in silence to await this man’s decisions.
Turning to look back at Bucky, Stephen gave the Omega a reassuring nod, “if you
are ready, Dam Rogers, I will begin. Unless you have anymore concerns?”
Pale blue eyes flickering to look over at his mate, Bucky still looked scared,
but his eyes weren’t as wide as they’d been before.
Steve smiled and nodded encouragingly, his eyes crinkling in the expression
though his beard masked his mouth.
“I’m ready,” Bucky answered, looking back at Stephen with a deep breath, he
added, “thank you for explaining it to me.”
Stephen nodded and then slowly raised both of his hands, placing his fingertips
on the Omega’s temples. Red sparks of energy burst from the Alpha’s fingers,
and Bucky’s eyes closed, his breathing picking up slightly at the uncomfortable
pulling in his subconscious as all his memories seemed to flash by him.
The veins in Bucky’s temples burned a bright red, trailing down into his
cheeks, but the Omega didn’t look pained . . . just a little uncomfortable.
Stephen didn’t pull away for a few minutes; it took time to file through each
memory of the ex-hunter. After close to ten minutes later, the Alpha finally
pulled away drawing a gasp from the smaller brunet. Stephen lowered his hands
and looked at Bucky with a small frown.
Holding up a hand, Steve cooed to his fledgling mate, “don’t tell me anything,
Bucky. You’re still being tried.” The blond vampyre always tried to support
their ways, still believing in the rightness of most of their traditions and
ways.
Stephen looked at Steve and then back at Bucky, “I do believe with my findings
that you will be cleared on the charges of assault and murder, Dam Rogers . . .
but - -” the lean Alpha looked over at the blond, “there is something odd.”
Nodding in agreement though the other mature vampyre hadn’t clarified what was
so odd, Steve slid to the edge of his chair. “This is something I’ve noticed
about things recently. This is why we wish to both be scanned.”
Bucky breathed a sigh of relief at the mention of his charges most likely being
dropped, “what was odd?”
Looking back at Bucky, Stephen stated bluntly, “you only used a stake when
hunting our kind in your past life.”
“I had thought that an odd detail, too,” Steve agreed.
“What’s odd about that?” Bucky asked, brows furrowing in confusion.
“Well,” Stephen answered, rising smoothly to his feet, “you cannot kill a
vampyre with a stake. All your kill records as the ‘Winter Soldier’ are marked
with a feral tearing and dismembering . . . much like your attack on Norman.”
Bucky’s eyes widened again, he looked at Steve, “I didn’t dismember any of
them. Just - -”
Holding up a hand, Steve nodded. “Bucky, are you able to wait until after my
scan to talk about this? I want our guest to see everything, please.” He
offered his fledgling a smile, eyes tender.
The brunet let out a tiny whimper but he nodded, bringing his legs close to his
chest as he sat back deeper into the plush, leather chair.
Stephen walked over to Steve and knelt back down, “are you ready, Steve?” The
other Alpha was already raising his hands to the blond’s temples.
“Yes, please,” the Alpha straightened and let a breath out. He knew his own
memories would endanger Wade, as well, but felt this might actually support the
necessity of such a taboo choice he’d made. After all, recently Steve had seen
their own laws thrown aside while many attacks had occurred. He already felt
confident Bucky was exonerated of any supposed crime. “I am ready, Stephen.”
Nodding, Stephen pressed his hands to the blond’s skin, red sparks flying once
more. The Alpha’s memories took a lot longer to sort through; the brunet’s eyes
shut as he concentrated on extracting all of the memories of the three hundred
year old vampyre.
Shaking at the renewed memories, Steve kept his own eyes closed, his hands
loose on the arms of his chair, holding nothing in hiding. And thoughts of
going rogue were outweighed by his fierce devotion to the safety of his people
and the overwhelming frustration and grief at not being able to help them, and
how things had twisted so recently with the rise of Hydra.
Thirty minutes passed and Bucky was beginning to get nervous, eyes focusing
solely on his mate. His chin rested on his knees and his fingers curled around
his shin, pulling his legs closer. An anxious scent wafted off the Omega in
waves.
Finally, Stephen retracted his fingers and lowered his hands, letting the other
Alpha come back to reality.
With a long, low sob, Steve bowed his head and wrapped his arms tightly around
himself, distressed to have the faded abuse so clearly brought back to mind,
and his grief over his own lost pups refreshed, first one through inability to
care for it and, more recently, the other through death, though there seemed to
be an echo of grief for other dead pups he couldn’t quite identify
Bucky let out a small whimper, fighting down the urge to run over to his mate
and comfort him their bond making the brunet feel his Alpha’s despair and
sorrow. He’d never seen Steve like this . . . and the Omega didn’t know what he
was supposed to do.
In a low whisper, Stephen said to Steve, “it is alright, Steve. You are nothing
like your sire, you treat your Omega well and love your pups. You have done
well.”
Steve’s head shot up and disbelief crossed his face before falling into
gratitude. He opened his arms to Bucky. “Buck, love? I think that means we can
talk now.”
The Omega scrambled off the chair and rushed over to his mate, curling into his
Alpha’s embrace, head tucking under Steve’s bearded chin, breathing in the
blond’s scent and giving off his own comforting one.
Enfolding his lover into his warm, supportive embrace, Steve finally turned
back to Stephen and waited patiently for the man’s verdict, worried about Wade
and his newborn, as well as all the other recent horrors the Maximoff would
have found in Steve’s psyche.
Standing, Stephen looked at the two mates, Bucky mewling and nuzzling into
Steve’s neck, a clear sign that the Omega felt his mate’s distress.
“I love you, my Bucky,” Steve cooed, stroking his Omega’s back and holding him
close. He turned his troubled eyes to Stephen, waiting for the long silence to
end.
“I have never felt a bond like the two of you have,” Stephen answered, Bucky’s
soft crooning echoing in the small space, “you are two pieces of a whole. What
one feels, the other does as well.”
“Romanov said she believed as much,” Steve confirmed, turning to place a gentle
kiss and soft energy thrust on Bucky’s temple.
“It is also quite clear he will be a mature Omega,” Stephen looked intently at
Steve.
Relief crossed the taller vampyre’s face. “Thank the gods. I . . . I feared I’d
stunted him.”
“No, you have done no such thing, if anything, the mating has made him stronger
than most Alphas,” Stephen explained; the tall Alpha had begun to pace, his
finger tapping his chin in a look of thought.
Steve looked more surprised than proud of his lean warrior of a mate. “He is a
fierce defender,” Steve confirmed. “Will you tell the council what you have
learned? I am sure you saw my earnestness in wanting to stop the threat my clan
has been posing recently.”
“Yes, that was quite clear in your consciousness,” Stephen answered, “but I
will omit my findings of your mate’s status.”
Surprise laced through the powerful blond but he nodded, stroking Bucky’s back
once more. “Whatever you feel best, Stephen, and thank you for your
discretion.”
“The council will be in for quite a shock when they learn that the notorious
‘Winter Soldier’ is not responsible for a single vampyre death, aside from
Osborn’s of course.” Stephen stopped pacing and turned to look at the pair
again.
“And Osborn wasn’t a ‘Winter Soldier’ kill,” Steve said fiercely, pride in his
tones. “I fear that Hydra, who owned Bucky before his rebirth, would send
someone behind him to make the actual kills. I’m not sure why they would train
him incorrectly then have his reputation bolstered.” Leaning towards the other
Alpha, Steve said,” I am confused by their behavior and plots. So many in this
house are victims because of them.” He took a breath. “And what of your verdict
on my unusual guests?”
“They are quite the pair, aren’t they?” Stephen looked amused, not angry like
one might expect when a mature Alpha spoke about an enemy of their race.
“I couldn’t turn him away when I realized what had been done to the newborn,
but I knew that the aid I gave in converting that boy . . . into his mixed
breed . . .” Steve sighed. “But I couldn’t let the boy die.”
“You did the right thing, Steve, however I will omit the both of them from my
findings as well . . . for the newborn’s safety,” Stephen nodded firmly.
Nodding his gratitude, Steve hugged Bucky gently. “Riley has claims against my
clan. He said Johann was there for the attack on the Philadelphia Wilson house,
Stephen. He watched my kin destroy them.”
“I will go to him then, you comfort your mate,” Stephen gave the pair another
nod and then swiftly left the room in search of Riley.
Bucky mewled again, he kissed the skin of Steve’s neck, sucking and nipping at
the flesh. “Alpha . . .” his tone wasn’t needy for a feeding, he just needed
his mate.
Turning his smile to Bucky, lightly brushing the coarse hair of his beard
across his mate’s temple, Steve cooed, “we have both been cleared, Bucky, at
least that will be the recommendation. If the Council follows Maximoff’s
suggestions, we can openly hunt Johann and Pierce from our own home. We won’t
have to try to arrange for the safety of our guests. They will be safe here.”
Steve held his mate close, enjoying the feel of the lean man in his arms.
Sitting with Bucky, just enjoying him, threatened to quickly become one of the
bigger man’s favorite pastimes.
“That is good,” Bucky breathed, not lifting his face from the blond’s neck,
enjoying the musky scent his Alpha emitted. “We’ll bring honor to our clan . .
. show the other’s that we are not all barbarians.”
“And that we want the vampyre culture to thrive,” Steve agreed. After nuzzling
Bucky’s temple lovingly for a long moment, the blond asked, “are you happy,
lovely Omega?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky answered, his lips curling into a soft smile. Neither he or
his mate were going to be arrested . . . they’d be able to hunt Pierce and
Johann freely. After a moment, the brunet remembered something, “Alpha? Can I
ask a question?”
“Ask me whatever you wish, whenever you wish, Buck. I intend never to have
secrets from you.” Steve smiled and kissed Bucky again, still on the temple.
“I’ve heard . . . bits and pieces of your time as a newborn. You had a pup?”
Bucky still didn’t lift his head, his voice dropping to a soft tone.
The subject forced tension through the Alpha’s large body but he merely held
Bucky tighter, as if holding onto a security blanket. “I was converted through
a brutal rape, like I put you through, Bucky.” Steve kissed his temple again.
“But Pierce never explained things. He used me for my newborn lust but withheld
his energy enough to keep me half starved and always needy. It took nearly a
month for me to grow to a fledgling because I was starving and almost wild.”
Steve lifted a hand and stroked his lover’s soft tangle of nut-brown hair.
“But, yes, I got pregnant shortly after conversion. Pierce never told me what
had happened. I grew larger and all of the other symptoms but didn’t understand
them at all. And then I began labor, without someone available to deliver the
pup. Pierce chose that time to come back to me and cut the pup from me. He said
I was too young, too stupid and foolish to care for my son. I never saw the pup
again. For two hundred and seventy-three years, I have no idea what happened to
my Johnny.” Sighing, sadness slamming over him yet again, Steve whispered,
“with Pierce’s attitudes, I don’t doubt he died a horrible, tortuous death
under Pierce’s Hydra knives.”
Bucky was quiet for a few long moments, his finger tracing a pattern on Steve’s
collarbone, over the blond’s shirt.
“I never got pregnant again, and I’m not sure if Pierce arranged that on
purpose. I know I was always sick, always having trouble breathing or with my
heart. It wasn’t until I was a year old newborn that someone found out and
intervened, taking me to Natasha Romanov’s safehouse. It was at her safehouse
that I learned the truth of being a vampyre and began to put aside my horrors.
But they are ever on my records, Buck, a stain that can be pointed to again and
again as a sign that I truly am not rehabilitated. That perhaps I belong in
confinement like the Council originally recommended. Natasha and my surrogate
Sire were the only ones to defend my freedom back then.” He kissed Bucky once
more and whispered against the lean man’s temple, “not a fairy story by any
means.”
“I’m sorry, Alpha . . . for what that monster put you through,” Bucky
whispered, his new hate for the man that had practically raised him burning
through his veins.
“Did you know, Buck, that you were my first newborn? Then there was Pietro. And
Becca was the first time I converted a newborn without rape.” Steve’s tone was
actually conversational if sad and heavy. “I have seen such growth in my own
self since you fell into my life.” He stroked Bucky’s hair then shifted his
hand to lift his mate’s chin, studying his eyes. “I makes me question again
what he was planning when he sent you to kill me then sent a vampire or one of
those Hydra abominations after you.”
“Well, we will ask him ourselves before we rip the spine from his body,” Bucky
growled softly, his instinct to protect his mate fueling his anger.
Steve barked with laughter, “oh, my blood-thirsty Omega. Throats and spines are
your playthings?” he teased, knowing Bucky would understand that Steve was not
calling his mate a vicious, mindless killer.
Bucky’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, his eyes flashing with gold before
settling back to their normal icy blue.
“Well, I intend to give you every opportunity to take your vengeance on Pierce,
my love, if you let me help you hunt him.” Steve stroked Bucky’s hair, smiling
proudly at the lean Omega. “Can you be patient enough to let Wade’s newborn
become a youth, if possible, before we bring Pierce’s attention to the house? I
have a feeling we’ll be defending against other rogue attacks like Osborn’s
while we wait. There are those who won’t believe the Council if they exonerate
us.”
“I can wait, Alpha . . . I hunted you for five years, remember?” Bucky teased.
“And you finally caught me,” Steve purred low. He kissed Bucky’s temple,
“body,” the blond murmured, moving to the brunet’s cheek, “heart,” Steve ended
on Bucky’s lips, “and soul.” Steve sealed their mouths in a silent vow of
eternal love.
Keening into the kiss, Bucky tilted his head to deepen it, his tongue swiping
across his Alpha’s bottom lip. The Omega ground his hips down on Steve’s lap.
“Do you need sex, my love?” Steve chuckled, not even bothering to mask the idea
in the polite term of ‘feeding’ this time.
“Need you, Alpha . . . please?” Bucky moved his lips to nip at Steve’s neck,
fangs scraping roughly on the cool neck.
“Then by all means, my love, take what you need,” Steve offered, giving his
permission. He lay back slightly in his chair until his back hit the strong
wood behind him, exposing his chest and lap to his mate. Holding his hands up
and spread shoulder-width apart, Steve grinned behind his red-gold beard.
“You’ll find me quite alert and ready to serve you.”
Growling softly, eyes flashing with gold again, Bucky ran his hand down the
Alpha’s clothed chest. His fingers began to work on Steve’s belt but, like
always, he only ended up growing frustrated as he couldn’t unfasten the leather
belt.
Chuckling, but not cruelly, Steve placed his hand over Bucky’s. “Let me show
you, Buck, how to do this with one hand.” The larger vampyre moved his lover’s
hand to cover the muscular stomach close to the belt he’d tried to fumble open.
Slowly, so Bucky could see clearly, Steve used one hand to push the tongue of
his belt towards the buckle, loosening it a bit. He then reached over and
tugged the metal tooth out of the loop and pushed the tongue free. “You should
practice that, love. It’ll work with some practice. Now let me show you
buttons.” Again, working one handed, Steve lifted his fingers and used his
thumb to flick the button through the hole he kept steady with his other
fingers. After demonstrating with a few, Steve suddenly re-buttoned his shirt
and re-belted his trousers. With a wicked smile, he finally pulled his hands
back out of the way.
“Alpha . . .” Bucky whined softly, grinding down again.
“Every moment is a chance to improve, Buck, and the reward will be so worth the
effort, my love,” Steve promised. “Will you, please, try? If you have too much
trouble, I will do it for you . . . but don’t you want to learn independence?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes at his Alpha, but he accepted the blond’s challenge and
began to work on the buttons. It took him a while, but eventually he’d managed
to loosen them all, only having ripped one in his haste to strip Steve.
“Good boy, Buck, my clever, clever Omega.” Steve didn’t begrudge the rip. He
was delighted that Bucky was learning new skills. “And now the belt. Remember,
push the tongue, don’t try to work the metal first. Loosen the leather
portion.”
“You are a cruel Alpha,” Bucky grumbled softly, though he knew Steve would
understand he wasn’t serious; his slick was starting to soak through his
underwear and his trousers.
“Cruel to be kind, my love. Once you learn this, you will find it easier to
undress yourself and our pup. And I can work with you to learn the reverse . .
. it’s a skill I don’t possess, re-buttoning one handed.” He didn’t explain how
he possessed the skill to undress one handed.
With a lustfully shaky hand, Bucky began to unfasten the belt, working the belt
loose and pushing it free of the metal clasp. Suddenly, the brunet met Steve’s
eyes and matched the blond’s wicked smile with one of his own. With a quick
flick of his wrist, the Omega tightened the Alpha’s belt, almost painfully so.
With a gasp, Steve’s eyes widened and he sat bolt upright, trying to ease the
tightness. “Oh, Buck . . . you wanna play, darlin’?” he drawled. Steve stood,
with Bucky in his arms, as if the brunet weighed nothing. “So . . . how to
punish you, my playful Omega.” Steve reached down one hand to work open Bucky’s
belt, as well as his own, one arm taken with holding Bucky up against his
chest. Stepping to the wall, Steve pushed Bucky’s back to the solid surface as
he freed himself from his drawers and trousers. Grinning, he shifted Bucky’s
clothing, maneuvering him to actually get the other man’s trousers off of him
without releasing him. “You wanna play?” Steve asked again and used his one
hand to line up and slide in deep, pushing Bucky up against the library wall as
he bottomed out in one smooth thrust.
Bucky gasped and groaned loudly, legs wrapping tightly around Steve’s waist,
“yes, Alpha . . . please . . .” the Omega’s slick coated his thighs and he
canted his hips to meet the blond’s thrust.
“So tight, my Bucky,” Steve crooned as he began to move, shunting in and out of
his lover’s tight heat. “So ready for me.” Steve lowered his face so he could
nip at Bucky’s mate mark, breathing in the sweet scent of his Omega. “I feel
like I’m coming home every time you welcome me inside, my love.”
The brunet keened and wrapped his arm around Steve’s neck, bringing the blond
even closer. His body felt like it was on fire and he needed more of his Alpha.
“Stevie . . . harder . . . need it, Alpha.”
“You want me to fill you, my love?” Steve cooed, thrusting in a steady pace,
supporting all of Bucky’s weight in his strong arms. “What do you want from me?
Tell me, please, love.”
Gasping at the intense pleasure, Bucky groaned and clenched his muscles tighter
around his Alpha’s member, “need it harder, Alpha. Need to feel you stretching
me . . . filling me . . .”
“You want me deep, hard?” Steve asked, thrusting slowly and steadily. “You want
me to fuck you with my knot, perhaps? My large knot nearly ripping you as I
force my way into your tight heat, over and over?”
“Oh - -” Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, “please, Alpha. Please fuck me
with your knot . . . please?”
“I intend to drive you insane with it, Bucky,” Steve breathed and picked up his
pace, his flesh knot no where near ready. But Steve had his other trick and so
swelled his energy into a large, bulbous, hard knot, just large enough to match
his flesh one. He began pumping into Bucky harder, forcing repeatedly through
the tight ring of muscle, bringing the sensation of near-ripping, being on the
edge of being wrecked as he fucked his mate harder and faster, bottoming out
then pulling out completely as he also moved the energy knot up and down his
length, something a flesh knot could never do. “That . . . what . . . you . . .
need . . . Buck?” he grunted with each intense thrust.
Bucky’s mouth dropped open to form words but the only sounds he could make were
soft gasps and moans. His legs wrapping tighter around the Alpha and the
brunet’s head fell back against the wall. The near tearing sensation
threatening to overwhelm the Omega, Bucky just continued to meet his mate’s
brutal pace, loving every second of it.
Feeling his own orgasm building, and his flesh knot enlarging, Steve smiled and
eased off his energy knot, replacing the wild pounding with his own flesh,
dragging over Bucky’s prostate as he thrust hard. Then, the blond let his
energy knot form once more, halfway down his length inside Bucky, his flesh
knot still ravaging Bucky’s entrance until it grew too large and Steve kept
pushed inside or risk truly damaging his mate. Instead, Steve let his energy
knot continue it’s pumping down his length. He finally stroked the energy over
Bucky’s prostate.
The feeling of the pure energy pumping over his prostate drove a cry from the
brunet.
The sound drove Steve over the edge and his shot his thick, hot life-seed deep
into his mate, thrusting the energy out in a similar fashion, his entire body
locking with Bucky’s, pressed deeply to the wall, united in their ecstasy.
Letting out a low, primal growl, Steve bit Bucky’s mark, hard, drawing energy
and pheromones, reclaiming his mate, fangs puncturing deeper than the rest of
his teeth could ever do, sinking into the veins that once carried blood and now
pumped with energy. The growl continued as the energy filled Steve’s mouth,
making him white out for a second or two, but his grip never lessened on his
beautiful mate.
With a shout, Bucky’s eyes rolled back and he came hard, painting both their
chests with thick ropes of cum. The Omega’s body went completely lax, his limbs
falling like putty in Steve’s hands.
Coming back to his senses, panting and trembling, Steve lapped at the wound as
it began to heal. He purred in deep contentment, the first time he’d been
relaxed from his burdens enough to truly make such a sound or rumbling. “When
the time is right, and we are ready, my beautiful Omega, I will fill your womb
with a litter of pups and we will take over the world, you and I,” Steve
rumbled, not really aware of his own far-fetched words, just of his everlasting
love and desire for this man he held.
“You and I, Alpha . . .” Bucky echoed in a lust-wrecked tone.
Long hours passed before a soft knock interrupted the pair, who now lay by the
fireplace, wrapped in the furred rug and sharing soft, tender kisses and gentle
pettings. With a sigh, Steve looked up and, voice rasping in the aftermath of
their sex, the blond called, “what is it?”
“I wondered if you wanted to feed Summer before I put her to bed, or should I
do so?” Riley’s voice sounded soft and politely unemotional.
Bucky pulled away from his mate’s arms, pressing his lips to Steve’s one last
time before he called out as he stood, “I’ll feed her, Riley, give me one
moment . . .” the brunet looked around, trying to find his trousers.
“You are absolutely, decadently beautiful when you’re wrecked, my love . . .
look at you, still covered in our loving, eyes blown, hair tangled, sweat and
cum drying . . .energy traces across your body. God, Bucky, I wanna keep doing
you all night.” Steve smiled up from the rug, letting the soft folds fall back
to expose his nudity, his semi-erection, chancing being seen as Bucky opened
the door to their guest.
Tugging his pants on to cover himself, Bucky shot his Alpha a wicked smile
before stepping aside as he took Summer so Riley had full view of his exposed
lover, “oh, but look at you my lovely Alpha, isn’t he a sight, Riley?” Bucky
looked over at his friend, winking at the other Omega.
He could feel Steve flush with embarrassment and hear the sound of the normally
staid man hurriedly covering up, but there was a strange sexual excitement in
Steve as well.
Riley looked when instructed too, seeming to study Steve before the man had the
chance to cover. When the brief show had ended, Riley nodded. “If you like them
pale and with waists so tiny you can fit your hands practically around them,
yes, he’s quite lovely.” Riley passed over the pup, winking at Bucky. “Though
he is hung like a horse, isn’t he? I’d be afraid I’d be wrecked if I let a man
like that mount me.” With that, Riley, still sounding perfectly calm and
detached, left the library on measured tread.
With a chuckle, Bucky shut the door again and began to steadily transfer his
energy to the pup in his arm. He began to hum that soft lullaby, rocking Summer
gently, causing the pup to make delighted noises, tiny hands reaching up for
her dam.
In the hall, Riley drew a deep breath and loosened his collar, his slick
beginning to dampen between his legs. Closing his eyes, the Omega tried to
regain the control he often pretended to. It wasn’t as if he had a mate he
could accost. Groaning under his breath, desperate to be filled after such a
tempting sight and all that musk and sex scent, the athletic blond turned and
climbed the stairs towards his shared suite. If he was lucky, he could get into
the bathing room and masterbate without distrubing Sam.
The mental image of that beautiful dark-skinned athlete made Riley even wetter,
even hotter and he had to shake his head to try to dispel the images. He opened
the door to the suite without really seeing anything, heading straight for the
bathroom and inside. The door failed to latch and bounced softly open as Riley
stripped down and plunged two fingers into his own passage with a low groan.
Sam’s head shot up from the book he’d been reading as he laid in the bed. At
the sweet smell of an Omega, the Alpha growled softly and put his book down.
Slipping off the bed, Sam walked over to his entrance of the conjoining
bathroom and knocked, “Riley?”
Unaware of his surroundings, feeling like it was nowhere near enough, Riley
dropped to his knees, one hand bracing himself on the floor, and plunged his
fingers in hard and fast, want them oh so much deeper, so much thicker. He
groaned and bucked against his own hand, giving up and letting the memory of
Sam fill his needy mind, his erection thick and already weeping.
Opening the door, Sam moaned at the sight of Riley, the Omega’s slick passage
on full display in front of him. His own erection filled instantly at the
sight, straining against the fabric of his trousers.
Letting his head fall down, panting and groaning, Riley softly began murmuring.
The words sounded indistinguishable at first, but as he added a third pumping
finger, his voice pitched a bit higher, “God, Sam, wreck me . . .” he groaned
before his voice dropped back down to near indistinguishable, fingers working
desperately.
Growling again, his senses and mind completely overwhelmed by the scent and
sight of the needy Omega, Sam quickly unbuttoned his trousers as he walked over
to Riley. Falling to his knees on the ground behind the blond, Sam ran one hand
down Riley’s spine while the other wrapped around his thick member.
At the touch, nearly out of his mind with need, Riley dropped his hand away
from his own passage, whimpering to alert the Alpha behind him that he was
ready for a mating. He bent forward, presenting in earnest as he keened and
whimpered.
“I got you, sweet Omega,” Sam said softly as he lined up and slowly pushed into
the welcoming, tight heat.
A low keen pushed from Riley’s throat, vibrating his chest, as he pushed back
to meet Sam’s thrust. “Sam . . .” he groaned low, his voice hungry as the other
vampyre had never heard anyone else sound. “Please, Sam . . . need you so much
. . .” He didn’t question Sam’s presence, accepting it with welcoming, needy
lust.
Thrusting in and out, Sam gripped Riley’s hips and deepened his thrusts,
gliding over the Omega’s prostate each time.
With a deep moan, Riley slowly rose to a kneeling pose, clenching around Sam as
the other vampyre thrust into him, filling his aching body. Riley brought one
hand up, cupping Sam’s face as the blond turned his face, seeking his lover’s
mouth and searing it with a needy kiss.
Groaning into the kiss, Sam couldn’t comprehend his knot already building up,
filling the Omega below him. “I wanna make you mine, sweet Omega . . . I wanna
be yours . . .”
At the feel of the locking knot, Riley keened his approval, “I am your’s, my
Alpha. I want the world to know I belong only to you,” he breathed against
Sam’s mouth, his fangs trailing lightly to nip at the other man’s lips.
Moaning loudly, Sam moved his lips to kiss at the crook of Riley’s neck, once
he felt the fire in his belly and his balls tightening, he knew it wouldn’t be
long until he lost himself in his orgasm.
Letting his head fall to the side, willingly exposing his neck to the Alpha
above and behind him, Riley continued to thrust backwards on that pistoning
member, the knot moving inside and teasing, stretching at his edges.
With one final thrust, Sam bottomed out and sank his teeth into the Omega’s
skin, marking him. The Alpha painted Riley’s walls with his heavy load,
draining his life-seed into the tight passage.
With a soft whimper, as quiet as he ever was, Riley felt his own orgasm respond
to being claimed, the energy flowing between them and his body hungrily
absorbing the seed . . . not for extra feeding, but to create a new life deep
in his womb. Tears ran down the blond’s face as his body shuddered in time with
the pulse jets inside, his own member coating his thighs, belly, and the
marble-tiled floor in front of him. “Your’s,” he whimpered, “my Alpha . . . at
last, my Alpha . . .”
“Yes, my sweet Omega . . . I’m all your’s . . . all your’s,” Sam echoed on a
low moan, his lips only a breath away from the Omega’s fresh mating mark. He
lapped at the endorphins and energy that leaked from the wound.
Riley’s entire body seemed to spasm and clench around Sam at the feel of his
tongue. With a low, needy groan, Riley wrapped his arm back up and around Sam’s
head, fingers tangling in sweat-damp curls. “Always your’s, my Alpha . . .” the
tears still flowed freely. “I have waited so long for you . . . keeping myself
for you alone.”
***** Of Enemies and Allies *****
“I need your help,” Bucky stated when Wade Wilson opened the bedroom door. A
month had passed, and Peter had grown into a fledgling; the boy still needed
feeding every six or so hours, alternating between blood and energy.
Looking up from where he sat by the fire, Peter frowned softly, wide brown eyes
tinged with an odd violet light. His fingers played over his sore abdomen, as
he hadn’t been feeling well that day. But Peter knew that Bucky wasn’t speaking
to him; Bucky had come for Wade’s counsel. Or maybe it was Riley Bucky wanted.
Riley had been giving Peter lessons on energy control and consumption, so he
didn’t overuse what stores he needed to build.
Glancing over at his fast friend, Riley slowly straightened from his seat
between Peter and Wade; he had watched as Peter practiced using his strange new
abilities, which somehow involved some type of spiderweb thin energy coming out
of his hands, draining the fledgling very hard as he used it. The older vampyre
had been acting as a barrier between sire and fledgling to make it harder for
Peter to leach off Wade, a trick he’d picked up common to fledglings.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Wade answered, stepping aside to let the Omega in.
“Bucky,” Riley said from his place.
Peter smiled at the famous warrior. The guy had been very popular among the
local humans for his work, and even as a half-vampyre, Peter found himself
slightly hero worshiping the fighter . . . especially as it’d been proven the
ex-hunter hadn’t really been killing the vampyres. Of course, the fledgling was
torn over the fact that Bucky had been destroying vampires.
Stepping inside, his footfalls almost as silent as a Romanov’s, Bucky nodded at
both Riley and Peter. “How are you feeling Peter? I heard you are unwell?”
Nodding, eyes widening even more if that were possible, the teen said, “yeah, I
keep throwing up half my food . . . the blood turns my stomach, but I get weak
without it.”
Bucky frowned, he looked at Riley.
Catching Bucky’s eyes, Riley blinked slowly, signaling that he had yet to
confirm their silent worries, or pass them onto Wade. Over the past month,
Bucky had come to know Riley very well. The man wasn’t reclusive in this
household, being quite sociable, if still overly emotionally withdrawn and
quiet.
Nodding once, Bucky looked back to the confused, weak fledgling, “I am sure it
is just a passing side effect of your conversion.”
“Still?” Peter almost squeaked. He siged. “You’re probably right. I’m all
discombobulated.”
“It’s very confusing . . . I still am unused to a lot of things that come with
being a vampyre. It gets better with time, Peter,” Bucky offered the young
Omega a small smile.
Nodding, finally falling silent to allow Bucky to talk about what he must
really be there for, Peter still smiled. He’d gotten personal attention from
the leader’s mate, and that was significant, even in such a tiny clan or family
as the Rogers’ had.
Turning to look at Wade, Bucky asked, “you’ve been inside Stark Tower, yes?”
The vampire looked surprised; he looked at the brunet carefully, “yeah . . .
once or twice. I like to spook the rich bastard sometimes. He’s incredibly fun
to play with.”
Riley let out a small snicker of amusement, eyes dancing as a smile ghosted
over his lips.
Smirking, looking very pleased, Bucky said, “I need your help to get inside the
Tower, into Stark’s private quarters. Tonight.” The brunet’s eyes flickered to
Riley; the older Omega knew that Sam and Steve were busy that evening, planning
attacks on multiple Hydra facilities.
Studying the young Omega, Riley finally asked, “why tonight? And why the
inventor?”
“You know why tonight, Riley. Our mates are occupied this evening. And Tony
Stark is the highest donor for both Shield and Hydra.”
Softly, Riley questioned again, “and why don’t you want Steve or Sam to know
we’re planning this?”
“I don’t know about Sam . . .” Bucky’s eyes moved to Riley’s abdomen, the
brunet knew that the Omega was pregnant with Sam’s pup, “but I know Steve would
never let me go. I’ve met the inventor before . . . maybe he’ll listen to me.”
“As a human,” Riley pointed out patiently, never one to just shoot down an
idea. The five hundred year old vampyre always weighed everything so seriously.
“Yes, as a human, but I think,” Bucky turned to look at Wade again, “he’ll
trust me enough to at least hear me out.”
Wade looked at Bucky, his blue eyes searching the vampyre’s face, “and this is
based on what? An assumption? What makes you think he won’t decapitate you as
soon as you step into that tower?”
“Or screech like a little child and run for his liquor cabinet,” Riley
muttered. It took a moment for the others to realize that the normally staid
vampyre had made a joke.
Snorting softly at his friend’s joke, Bucky shook his head, “I guess I am
working on assumptions . . . but I need to try. If we can get Tony to pull
Hydra’s funding . . . the entire organization should crumble from the inside.”
Looking at Peter, frowning at the thought of leaving his sick fledgling, Wade
said, “normally I’d say yes. I’m always up for spooking Stark but . . .”
With a soft snort, Riley muttered, “Don’t you mean ‘hell yeah’?”
Turning his eyes onto Riley, Wade quirked a brow, “and what will Peter do while
I’m out playing ghosts with the ‘Winter Soldier’.”
“I’ll stay and tend him, as well as Summer,” Riley offered with a light shrug.
“Snap will go with you if you need her. Tell her to get help and she’ll fly
right here for me.” The older vampyre never interfered with the plans of
others, as long as they seemed aware of the dangers and ramifications. Since
Wade was not a youth, it would be up to him to protect his benefactor’s mate.
After a few moments, Wade nodded, “alright . . . let’s go get us a Stark,
Winter.”
Peter suddenly blurted, “Wade, when I mature, will I have boxes, too?”
“Boxes?” Bucky mused looking at Riley.
The younger fledgling nodded and explained, “he talks to them when he’s
thinking. I never hear their answers.”
Riley shook his head. “Wade has a mental process in which he discusses his
dilemmas with himself. I do not pry to find out how this works. I am not a
Maximoff.” The blond man rose to his feet.
Peter looked thoughtful, frowning. “It’s a vampire thing, right? No one else
here does it . . .”
“It’s more like a Wade Wilson thing, baby boy,” Wade said with a smile, he
walked over to the teen and kissed him.
“And if you’re a Wilson, why aren’t you part of Sam Wilson’s clan?” Peter
questioned.
“I can answer that if you wish,” Riley offered but the group was interrupted by
the sound of what could possibly be a large retriever bounding down the hall.
Suddenly, in a sing-song almost whine, Clint Romanov’s voice sounded. “Hey, can
Petey come out an’ play?”
Bucky looked at Wade and said softly, “we should go.”
“I’ll take Peter and Summer. You take Snap.” And Riley lay a gentle hand on
Peter to draw his over-curious attention and lead him into the hall. “Come with
us, Clint, and you can play. We’ll find Pietro and Becca.” And that simple
statement subtly let Bucky know just how different from the other fledglings he
was, though no one could claim to be exactly like the oddly humored ex-hunter
Clint.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky led Wade into the parlor, their footfalls silent
against the plush rug. The brunet could hear both Sam and Steve in the library,
but the door was closed, so their voices were muffled. Carefully, the Omega led
the Alpha out of the home, slipping into the bitter-cold night. This would be
the first time Bucky would purposely be flaunting his mate’s unspoken rules to
stay inside.
Getting into the Tower was much easier than Bucky would have expected; he
didn’t have time to admire any of the odd contraptions that Tony, presumably,
had built. Wade crouched down in front of Bucky; rounding a corner, they could
both hear the noises of metal clashing together. The vampire’s eyes glowed a
bright red in the dim light of the workshop.
The Omega stepped out in front of Wade, “Tony Stark . . . long time no see,
huh?” The vampyre let his Brooklyn drawl creep back into his tone as he stepped
into the visible light, Wade choosing to stay behind in the shadows for the
time being.
“What?” A near shriek emitted from the impeccably dressed, covered with an old
apron, figure standing there. A short, dark haired man with neatly trimmed
facial hair and intelligent brown eyes looked over, removing a protective face
shield he’d strapped over his face. He frowned and straightened, his short
height belying the over-large personality he barely kept hidden. “Uh . . .
James Barnes? You’ve . . . been declared dead, you do know that, right?” Tony
eased his mask onto the table, along with a pair of red hot glowing tongs and
sidled towards his walnut, floor to ceiling, cabinet of fine alcoholic
beverages.
Snorting, at both Tony’s statement and the fact that Riley’s joke had come to
reality, Bucky shrugged one shoulder, “You know me, Tony. Too stubborn to let
something as silly as death take me down.”
“Yeah,” Tony shrugged and stopped sneaking, opening grabbing for a bottle of
cognac imported from France. Pouring the brandy into a snifter, he said, “drink
anyone, if you do that kinda thing.” Rolling the liquid easily around the large
bowl of the glass, Tony picked back up on Bucky’s comment as if nothing
occurred between the statements and then. “I heard that, too, Jimbo. Heard you
had a real lust for power now.”
“Hey, would you look at that? He really did run for his liquor cabinet,” Wade
barked out a low, rumbling laugh, stepping closer to Bucky, “drinking kills
your liver, ya know?”
“My liver may be fucked, but my heart is honest,” Tony quipped without missing
a beat.
Bucky sneered, the demeaning statement causing his eyes to flash gold, baring
his fangs to the inventor, “I have come to talk, Tony. Not make jabs at one
another. There are things you have been misinformed about.”
“Well, the rumors of your death seem not to have been misleading,” Tony sipped
his drink at last and seemed to relax by increments, the tension ebbing first
from his shoulders and leaching from his back then thighs. “So, to what
pleasure do I owe you?”
“You funding Hydra. It needs to stop, Tony. They are experimenting on pups . .
. on human children,” Bucky said firmly; thinking of his baby sister stuffed in
that small cage caused a shiver to run down the Omega’s spine.
“Uh . . . puppies? You want me to stop funding vampire hunters to save some
dogs?” Tony blinked. “I’m all for saving the animals, but . . .”
“He’s talking about the children of our kind,” Wade supplied, eyes narrowing
slightly.
“Oh, puppies, huh?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Whatever you want. So,
hey, throw me a bone here. Why should I stop killers who are killing . . . oh,
wait, never mind . . . got it.” He shook his head, hand going to his head and
running through his hair. “Been up awhile without sleep, you know, maybe,” and
he glanced to a beautiful clock from Switzerland, “six days?” Tony put down his
snifter, thought better of it, and retrieved the large glass, taking another
comforting sip of the fiery liquid. “So, Hydra’s not the good guy so much
anymore?”
“I’m not sure they were ever the good guys,” Bucky answered honestly.
“Change of tune, Jim Jim,” Tony said, almost absently, eyes roving over the
vampyre. “I can make it beautiful, you know. Real work of art . . . flexible,
near silent . . .”
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, looking lost.
“Your arm.” Tony gestured with his glass, his chin following a bit. “You lost
the prosthetic and the stub beneath it, but I can work with that. Never worked
on a vampire before, so should be interesting.”
Wade growled low, instincts pushing him to protect the Omega next to him.
“Whoa, steady, down big guy!” Tony said, holding up his free hand, palm out. “I
did say arm, right? Like, as in giveth, not taketh away,” he asked.
“I don’t need an arm,” Bucky snapped.
“Well, you’re kinda running in short supply, Jimmy,” Tony pointed out
helpfully.
Bucky rolled his eyes; he’d forgotten how frustrating the inventor could be.
The brunet pulled out a small stack of parchment from the pocket in his coat,
walking over he dropped them on the table, “this is everything we have on Hydra
as well as some truths about the lies they’ve been feeding out . . . feeding
everyone.”
Fingers eagerly scooping up the papers without even knowing what they
contained, Tony listened to the ex-hunter as he flicked through the pages.
Finally, Tony said, “speaking of feeding, you’re not gonna get peckish and want
a suck or something, right? I’m anemic. No blood iron. Could be detrimental,
you know? Not a good snack.” He continued to read through the notes, eyes
raising at several unspoken points.
“I don’t feed that way, Tony, don’t worry,” Bucky answered on an exasperated
sigh.
“But your friend does, doesn’t he?” Tony glanced up from Bucky to Wade and back
again. “So, they really are two separate breeds. I always thought they must be.
The behavior between them was too different.” The scientist glanced back over
the pages of information.
“Please tell me you didn’t know about the experiments,” Bucky looked down at
the dark-haired man.
Clearing his throat, Tony said, “okay. I didn’t know about the experiments,
Jim.”
Wade lurched forward, grabbing the inventor by the throat and slamming him up
against the nearest wall. Bucky simply stood out of the way of the enraged
Alpha.
With a yelp, dropping the papers and his snifter, the glass shattering on the
hard, polished floor, Tony scrabbled to try to get Wade’s grip to lessen.
“You tellin’ the truth, Stark?” Wade growled, red eyes glowing menacingly.
Making several incomprehensible sounds, Tony began to turn a rather interesting
shade of purple as he slapped and scratched at the vampire’s hand.
Wade lessened his grip, only slightly just to give the human some breath back
but he did not let him go.
“Shit!” He wheezed and Tony’s eyes watered as he stared up at the larger man.
“I wouldn’t have given them money to experiment! I’m the one who experiments
with my money!”
“You experiment?” Wade snarled, eyes narrowing.
“Breathing . . . need air . . .” Tony choked and wheezed.
“Let him go, Wade,” Bucky said, his tone flat, almost uncaring.
The vampire growled again but let the inventor drop to the floor by his feet.
As Tony sputtered and pulled away his neck-cloth and stiffly starched collar,
he felt the bruising around his neck. “You know, I hear the Tibetan monks have
a thing called meditation for that. Should really check it out, big guy.” He
coughed and eased to his feet.
“Tony . . .” Bucky warned.
“God, yes!,” Tony threw his hands in the air. “Of course I experiment. How else
do we make sure our inventions work without trying them out?”
This time Bucky moved in a flash; he pinned the inventor back onto the wall,
hand resting firmly on his chest. He didn’t suffocate the smaller man but held
him still.
“Again?” Tony wheezed in startled response. “What is with you guys and walls?”
Leaning in closer, Bucky growled, “you need to stop funding Hydra. Stop
experimenting on vampires and vampyres.”
“On vampires and . . .” Tony’s brown eyes widened and he looked strangely
paler. “I never experiment on living things. Too many variables and not enough
reward. They’d probably perish, and they have these inconvenient things called
nerves and feelings. I experiment on my machines!” He shook his head. “And I
don’t prefer to fund useless experiments. Medicine is barbaric enough with
their fetish for cutting up corpses in the name of healing people.” The
inventor shuddered in Bucky’s grasp. “If you say these guys are misusing my
funds, I can cut them off, no problem. Never liked that arrogant shit, Pierce,
anyway. Thinks he owns the place.”
Stepping back with a firm nod, Bucky looked at Tony, the golden ring around his
pale irises shining in the moonlight that poured in through a window.
Brushing himself off, giving an experimental cough or two, Tony finally
straightened and shook his shoulders and neck. Looking at Bucky he offered a
puzzled smile. “So, is that still a no on the arm? I have a way to make the
gears so that, with a bit of calibration, you can get the fingers to open and
close with minimal guidance from your other hand.” Sounding excited, as if he’d
totally forgotten the last few minutes, the dark-haired human added,
“Revolutionary. If I could figure a way to get the workings to mimic the
nervous system, I could even get the hand to work independently, but we’re far
off from that kind of miracle.”
Knowing he’d been out too long, that Steve would be able to sense his lack of
presence in the house, Bucky shook his head, “no, Tony. We should be going.
We’ll be in touch.”
“As long as you do your touching without, you know . . . physically touching,”
Tony frowned, eying Wade’s hands. “I got one problem, though, just a small
inconvenience.”
“And what would that be?” Bucky asked.
“When I cut Hydra from their feeding tube, they’re gonna get grumpy and real
hungry. They’ll bite off the hand that fed them all these years, you know?”
Tony walked back to his bar and retrieved a new snifter, hand reaching out for
the brandy once more.
“Yes,” Bucky nodded, “but I’m sorry . . . I don’t see how we can help?”
Sighing, Tony shook his head and winced at the tug across his freshly swelling
bruised neck. “You were the greatest hunter they ever trained, even if you only
ever went on those silly practice runs. Maybe you could actually use your
abilities to, I don’t know, kill Pierce and his hounds? Then I won’t have to
live in fear his minions will hunt me down and eat me with the wrong kind of
wine or something.”
Smirking, eyes filling with golden fire, Bucky said, “Pierce will fall, Tony.”
The clock chimed loudly, signaling that Wade and Bucky had been gone a full two
hours.
“Sounds like my bedtime, boys,” Tony hinted that he wanted the interview to be
over.
Nodding, Bucky gestured for Wade to follow, “I’ll see you around, Stark.”
“Well, unless I’m slaughtered in my sleep, I plan to be around,” Tony shot
back. “Nice to know you don’t have this grudge thing going against me.”
The two beings walked soundlessly out of the room, leaving the tower in the
same way they’d entered. Bucky foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, Steve
hadn’t realized he’d left . . . that the Alpha had been too wrapped up in
planning with Sam. As they walked up the front steps to the large mansion, the
brunet took a deep, steadying breath before opening the door and stepping
inside . . . right into a massive wall of angry Alpha.
Steve’s hands came up to capture Bucky by his arm and his side, steadying him.
In a low growl, the tall blond asked, “where the hell were you?”
Bucky shrank in himself, his eyes nervously flickered to Wade before looking
back up at his mate. “We - - I wanted to talk to . . . someone. Wade helped
me.” The brunet didn’t want to get the other Alpha in trouble, Wade had only
gone with him because Bucky had asked.
Without looking away from his Omega, eyes lit with golden fire, Steve said,
“Wade, you may go back to whatever you’re doing. I’ll tend my fledgling.”
“Sorry,” Wade muttered, it was unclear who the apology was meant for, and slid
past the two mates. He walked down the hall in search of his own mate.
“Steve . . . I - - I . . .” Bucky shifted nervously under the Alpha’s intense
gaze, Steve had never looked at the Omega like this . . . Bucky could feel the
blond’s anger and fear through their bond and that only served to make him more
nervous.
“Bucky, you are a fledgling, and one who is still universally despised. Your
name hasn’t been cleared yet. What the hell were you thinking, going out there
to god know’s where without my protection?” Steve didn’t remove his hands,
instead gesturing with his chin. Even his beard couldn’t hide the angry line of
Steve’s plush lips.
“I don’t need your protection,” Bucky snarled; he was tired of being treated
like a pup, “I can handle myself! Plus, I had Wade . . . I didn’t leave alone.”
The Omega’s eyes flashed with golden fire as his eyes narrowed up at his mate.
“Even if the law didn’t state that a fledgling must always be tended by its
sire, I would be foolish to let you go out with only a vampire for protection.
He’s as despised as you! You took a foolish, idiotic risk for what? For who?
Why did you leave me?” Steve entire body shook with his strong emotions.
Bucky wrenched himself away from his Alpha’s grasp, his top lip curling in a
snarl, “We were helping take down Hydra! Or is that not what we’re doing
anymore?”
“If you wanted to go out on the hunt, I’d have gone with you, Bucky! You aren’t
supposed to go without me.” He shook his head, blond hair shifting with the
forceful movement. “That’s what we were planning. You could have come in and
joined us.”
“I’m not some weak Omega, Steve! I pulled Hydra’s biggest support right from
under them!” Bucky shouted, his body coiled tight, as if expecting an attack.
“What the hell aren’t you understanding here?” Steve shouted back, his normal
calm finally braking. “I know you’re a fucking hunter. I never doubted you
could defend yourself! You are legally supposed to be by my side in case you
have a hunger surge, you . . .” Steve finally seemed to lose his words. He
forcefully grabbed his mate and pulled him in, sealing their mouths in an angry
kiss full of the desperate fear he’d been feeling when he realized his love had
disappeared.
The brunet growled into the kiss, an angry, feral noise. His hand pushed at
Steve’s chest, the Omega was too riled up to comprehend the desperation firing
through their link.
Feeling the push, Steve immediately stepped back, dropping his hands as if
burned. His eyes stayed a bright gold with his intense emotions and he looked
utterly betrayed. Without further word, the tall blond turned and strode
quickly into the house, footsteps for once very audible as he hurried upstairs.
Bucky stood, frozen in place by the front door. What the hell had just
happened?
“Dominating much,” a slow, extremely familiar voice drawled from the darkness
outside. A tall, lean blond stepped quickly out of the shadows, not hiding, and
his appearance shocked the Omega, his golden ringed eyes taking in the odd
sight.
Tall and lean, not quite as muscular as the vampyre that had just left, the
blond stood at exactly six foot tall. He was clean shaven, appearing younger
than he would with a beard, and his blue eyes seemed full of intense emotion,
though the glow only enhanced his natural color not changed it. His body was
whipcord thin but very strong, not as bulky as the man he looked so much like.
He could pass for Steve’s brother, or even a smaller, younger Steve himself;
the voice was near identical.
“And you are?” Bucky snapped, still coming down from his spat with his mate.
Although the brunet had an immediate idea of who this stranger was . . .
undoubtedly related to Steve in some way.
“My name is Johnny Storm.” The nearly two-hundred and seventy odd years old
vampyre bowed formally, his face closed off, his emotions hidden, though his
eyes were cold. “And I came to seek aid in my . . . quest . . . from the only
vampyres strong enough to help me.”
Bucky’s eyes fell down Johnny’s form, studying him closely, after a few long
moments, the Omega stepped aside to allow the blond entry. “Stay in the foyer.”
The brunet’s tone was still clipped, a light snarl on his face.
“Yes, sir,” Johnny responded politely, though an underlying bitterness seeped
through his words. The blond walked inside and waited, out of the way, nearly
against the wall and in a darker shadow, in the grand entrance of the home. He
kept his hands loose by his sides, looking around the Rogers’ house with
interested, if cold, eyes, the fire in them no less than as if he was in full,
heightened emotions or power mode.
“I will go get the leader,” Bucky said, looking over the vampyre that oddly
resembled his mate, “you will stay here.” The dam ordered again.
As if he was an obedient newborn, Johnny bowed his head and stayed silent, eyes
ghosting over then studying the lean brunet, his matching height and
approximate build.
Bucky turned and hurried up the stairs searching for his, most likely, still
fuming mate. He could easily sense the angry Alpha in the suite they shared.
Opening the door, Bucky bowed slightly, trying to ease his mate’s anger.
Steve, doing something Bucky had never seen before, was kneading a gray mass
over and over, by a small table off to the side. He looked up, the gold in his
eyes muted but still present as he worked his anger through the shapeless clay.
“Alpha,” Bucky rasped, his head still bowed in formal recognition, “we have a
guest in the foyer.”
“Another?” Steve uncharacteristically growled in frustration. “Why must we
never be left in peace?” He slammed the clay down and drew a wet cloth over it
then hurriedly washed his hands. “Is it from the Council or yet another
troubled soul looking for the Rogers’ strength to protect it?”
Bucky jumped at the loud noise, however he remained bowing, “he is from the
Storm Clan, Alpha. Seeking aid in a quest.”
Freezing, eyes widening at the rarely heard name of a very powerful Boston-
centered clan, Steve finally noticed Bucky’s pose. Sighing, running his still-
wet hand through his hair and making it stand on end, Steve let his anger wash
away. “Buck, you never have to bow to me. I’m your mate, not your master.”
The Omega straightened, but kept his eyes downcast, he felt shame in the way
he’d treated his Alpha . . . but he did not regret leaving the mansion in order
to speak to Tony. “He is waiting in the foyer, Alpha.”
“The foyer? Why not the drawing room?” Steve hurried past Bucky, careful not to
touch the smaller man, and strode down the hall and steps towards their guest.
Bucky sighed and walked out of the room, towards Riley’s room to go feed
Summer. He knew his Alpha was still upset at him, he could feel the betrayal
and slight anger through their bond, so he’d wait until his mate came for him.
Steve stopped at the foot of the stairs when he saw the younger vampyre, gold-
ringed blue eyes widened at the uncanny similarity. He recalled no siblings
converted all those years ago, so who could this unknown Storm clan member be?
Clearing his throat, the large man stepped into the hall and asked, “may I help
you, Storm?”
Straightening, Johnny’s eyes studied the larger vampyre, “yes, Steve Rogers, I
have come to ask for help.” The man’s tone still held that slight bitterness as
it had when the smaller blond had talked to Bucky.
“And what kind of help can I provide you?” Steve gestured towards the drawing
room he would normally have shown his guest into. “May we talk in comfort?” He
prompted.
Bowing slightly, Johnny followed Steve into the drawing room; the smaller
vampyre took in the space with the same, coldly interested eyes as he’d done
with the foyer. “Your Dam told me to stay in the foyer.” Johnny didn’t look at
Steve as he spoke, still looking around at the luxurious room.
“He is worried you’ve come to harm the house. Others have since he was
converted. He doesn’t know any of the Storm clan.” Steve explained quickly,
voice neutral.
“He wouldn’t, the ‘Winter Soldier’ was never able to take down any of the Storm
clan,” Johnny’s sapphire eyes finally met Steve’s, his jaw set in
determination.
“And once the findings of our recent trial are released, the world will know he
never took down any vampyre. He was used in a sick game by his owners, who sent
him after us with a stake to be followed much later by a real killer.” Steve
gestured to a chair. “But he’s no less a warrior for their manipulation of his
reputation. Do you wish some water? Or something else to drink?” Steve never
offered food, as vampyres never required the substance.
“I am fine, thank you,” Johnny answered, sitting down in the chair, his back
ramrod straight.
Finally, Steve asked the burning question on his own mind, “Storm, we look
alike, yet I had no siblings as a human and my only pup was murdered. How are
we related?”
“Death has a funny way of being cheated, doesn’t it, Steve Rogers?” Johnny
stated, looking up at the tall, muscular blond.
“Death . . .” Blue eyes widening, Steve dropped to a low whisper, hope and
confusion and pain warring through his body. “Johnny . . . Rogers?”
“Storm, Johnny Storm,” he corrected with a small growl, “I was never truly part
of the Rogers’ clan. My sire gave me to the Storm clan when I was just a pup.”
The pain surged forth, raw and almost overwhelming. “He took you from me . . .
said I was too unstable and foolish to raise you, that I would kill you . . .”
Steve shook himself, trying desperately to control his emotions. His hands
clenched the chair he sat in so he wouldn’t throw himself at this long-lost
son.
“Were you?” Johnny asked, cold and calculating.
“I . . .” the larger vampyre Alpha stumbled then finally hung his head. “I
guess so. I was so . . . until I was a youth . . .” he shook his head, unable
to bring clarity to his words. His distress was almost palpable even without a
link.
Changing the subject, Johnny looked around the room again, almost looking
disinterested, “I have come to seek your help in destroying Pierce.”
Head snapping up, a surge of anger shot through Steve. His eyes glowed with
golden fire. “That is one of my goals. He is an abomination to the clan and
vampyres everywhere.” Steve’s low tone promised vengeance on the Alpha who had
done so much harm.
Nodding, Johnny looked back to the man who’d whelped him, “good. So you will
help? Will your Dam have an issue with this?”
“Only if we leave him behind,” Steve snorted. “He has as much grievance against
Pierce as any. His entire family was wiped out and he was forced to work,
through trickery and lies, for the very man responsible for their deaths and
torture.”
Johnny snorted softly, looking unamused, “blindly following does not equal
innocence, Steve Rogers.”
“And how independent were you at the age of twelve, Johnny?” Steve asked,
falling into his normal, patient teaching tones.
The smaller blond held Steve’s eyes; he didn’t answer, though it was clear that
even with that statement he did not forgive Bucky in the least.
“You are welcome to stay here while we pursue Pierce, so you may be central in
our plans. I can get Wilson to come and we can re-review what we’ve already
come up with, if you wish. Or you may rest. It’s close to dawn.”
“If it’s alright with you, I would like to rest,” Johnny said, “the trip from
Boston drained me.”
Nodding, Steve rose to his feet and gestured to the hall. “I’ll set you up in
an interior room if you don’t want windows, though the shutters are thick and
hold back the day.” He waited for Johnny to stand then lead the way into the
hall, towards the stairs.
Following, Johnny shook his head, “as long as the rooms have shutters, it does
not matter.”
Drawing a steadying breath, Steve ventured to know this stranger better. “I had
heard that Storms can fly? Wilson prefers window access so he might fly the
night if he chooses.” Steve led the way up the steps.
Johnny nodded, “windows are preferable, that way I do not feel trapped.”
“Of course,” Steve offered a tentative smile to his lost child. “Right at the
head of the steps is where I’ll place you. You’ll have ready access to a window
as well as the downstairs. Have you need of feeding? I’ve an entire household
that can aid in your nourishment,” he offered politely.
“I am fine, thank you,” Johnny answered, looking at the door to the right of
the top of the stairs.
“Here, Johnny. Your room.” Steve opened the door to a well kept bachelor’s
suite, tastefully decorated in neutral colors. He watched the man’s every move,
beginning to accept that his son had lived, and that he might get to know the
man the lost pup had become.
“Thank you, Steve,” Johnny bowed in respect before entering the room.
The taller, larger blond stepped back, giving Johnny full control over the
room, and softly shut the door. He stood, torn and searching his own myriad of
thoughts and feelings, before turning and heading towards his own suite.
Bucky’s soft humming filled the room as he sat in one of the chairs, rocking
the now well-fed Summer in his arm. The Omega looked lovingly down at his pup,
all traces of anger from his fight with Steve completely gone.
Opening the door, Steve let his eyes rove over the site of his mate and pup,
safe and where they belonged. He swallowed and stepped softly inside, closing
the door. Trembling for an entirely different reason that half an hour before,
the large, strong man watched his lover almost hungrily, his emotions in
turmoil, grief and fear and hope foremost over the link.
“You are troubled, Alpha,” Bucky murmured softly, eyes not lifting from the
pup.
Taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself, Steve moved to the bed and sank
down. “It’s Johnny,” he said softly.
“Your lost pup,” Bucky answered in that same soft tone, his pale eyes raised to
look over at Steve.
Nodding, lifting his own troubled eyes to meet Bucky’s, Steve continued in that
whisper, “Pierce didn’t kill him. He gave my son to the Storm clan.” Steve
dropped his head into his hands and groaned, “I have no idea how old my pup
was, how much torture he’d gone through before that kindness.”
Bucky looked at Steve, head slightly tilted, “he came to you to ask for help
taking revenge against his sire.”
“To kill Pierce, yes,” Steve confirmed, sounding almost pleased. “And I
willingly offered him the help he seeks.” The blond kept his face in his hands.
“Hydra will be hit hard within the next few days, Pierce and Johann will be
vulnerable,” Bucky nodded.
“And between you and me, and our allies, we will hopefully finish them off
before the new season turns.” Steve straightened, a fierce fire in his golden-
lit eyes. “Can you tell me where you went tonight, Buck? And . . . and why you
thought I would interfere?” The anger had drained out with the arrival of
Johnny.
“I went to visit Tony Stark,” Bucky answered honestly, looking at Steve.
“The human inventor? You didn’t convert him, did you?” Steve felt nervous at
the idea, especially if, for some unfathomable reason, Bucky left a newborn
behind . . . something Steve didn’t think Bucky would do.
Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes, “you know I wouldn’t do that. I am not an
uncontrollable newborn. I went to him with information on Hydra . . . Wade and
I . . . convinced him to retract funding from Hydra.” The Omega stood and
walked over to the crib; he set the pup in her bed. He looked down at the
sleeping, happy pup with a soft smile before turning back to look at his mate.
“And he’ll do it?” Steve asked. “He could have been lying . . .” the vampyre
didn’t know Tony by anything other than reputation, and that was of an overly-
rich man bent on killing anything natural in the world with his ‘progressive’
ideas.
“He could have been lying,” Bucky shrugged, “but I don’t think he was. I
suppose only time will tell.”
“He could have attacked you both just as easily, Bucky. Were you prepared to
kill him if he didn’t listen?” Steve frowned softly, his eyes never leaving his
mate’s movements.
“Tony Stark is a spoiled man-child, the only things he knows how to wield are
tools and a glass of brandy,” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through
his tangled tresses.
“So . . .” Steve took a slow breath. “You left me home why?”
“Would you have let me go if I had told you, honestly?” Bucky asked.
“I would have come with you, Bucky, if you’d explained what you hoped to
accomplish,” Steve clarified, “though I wouldn’t have believed it was possible
to do.”
Bucky sighed and looked down, his arm wrapped around his abdomen and played
with the hem of his soft, cotton shirt.
“Am I so very repressive that you felt your only freedom would come from
running away from me?” Steve asked, pain in his tone and eyes.
The brunet looked up at Steve and shook his head wildly, tears brimming his
pale blue eyes.
“Did you really think I didn’t believe you could handle yourself in a fight or
negotiation, that I would hover and interfere with you?” Steve stayed where he
was, sitting on the bed, hands hanging uselessly between his large thighs.
“I - - I . . .” Bucky licked his lips, the Omega appeared as if he was holding
something back, hiding something else from his mate.
With a sigh, Steve gave a nod and stopped pressing. He rose and began
stripping, moving over to the washstand so he could bathe his face, hands, and
his exposed chest. Normally he would take a full bath, but tonight he felt too
drained to bother.
“I am with pup,” Bucky whispered; he didn’t know if the admission would reach
his mate on the other side of the room. The Omega’s arm wrapped tighter around
his abdomen.
“A pup?” Steve froze and turned to study his mate with wide eyes, cloth
forgotten in his large hands. “Are you sure?” He dropped the washcloth and
seemed to vibrate, to tremble, but he didn’t approach.
Bucky hung his head and nodded, a sob ripping through his lips.
Steve rushed to his mate’s side but then forcibly stopped before touching
Bucky, as if he had hit upon some kind of invisible barrier. He whimpered low,
as if distressed, and swayed. “Buck, Bucky . . . are you hurting? Unwell? What
can I do?”
“I’m - - four . . . four weeks . . .” Bucky cried harder, his fear of losing
this second pup like he’d lost Winnie finally surfacing.
Steve whimpered again, his own distress rising, but still he didn’t touch
Bucky, as if he was physically being held back. “Do you want me to get a
midwife? To check you both over? Whatever I can do, Buck . . . please? Let me
help?”
“I can’t lose another . . . I can’t . . .” Bucky whimpered.
“A . . . a Maximoff could check to see that our pup is viable? To make sure it
grows correctly?” Steve offered on a small whimper, his distress as great as
his mate’s.
“I’m . . . I’m not replacing Winnie, Steve . . .” Bucky looked up at Steve with
wide eyes, the gold slowly taking over the pale irises.
“Of course you aren’t,” Steve whispered, his voice soothing. “Why would you
even think so? Winnie is resting and playing in the fields. This new pup, her
sibling, will help us look over her . . .”
Bucky sobbed, stumbling back until the back of his thighs hit the solid, wooden
table behind him.
Steve let out a sound of distress, once more hurrying to Bucky’s side, but
again stopping before touching the Omega. He watched his mate with pain and
worry. “Bucky, sit down, please? You’ll be fine. We’ll get through this and our
pup will be healthy this time. A fledgling is strong enough to make a pup . .
.”
“Why . . . why aren’t you touching me?” Bucky asked, fear radiating off him in
tangible waves, “I’m - - I’m sorry . . .” The Omega feared that his mate didn’t
want to touch him anymore after such a breach in trust.
“Because I forced myself on your before and I’ll never do it again,” Steve
whispered. “You . . . I never want to feel you pull from me like that again . .
.” His voice sounded miserable. “I never want to hurt you or frighten you,
Bucky. I love you.”
“I love you, Alpha . . . please?” Bucky looked over at his mate.
With a sob, Steve finally pulled Bucky into his arms, burying his face in his
mate's hair, his body trembling with his emotions. He was frightened for their
pup, for his Omega, but his love was a strong undercurrent.
“I wanna be a good dam, Steve,” Bucky sobbed, his accent coming back as he lost
himself in the grief and fear, “I wanna be a good Omega for you . . . have your
pups . . .”
“You are the perfect Omega, my heart,” Steve whispered and nuzzled his mate.
“You have always been the perfect Omega for me. Bucky, mates fight. It’s part
of being independant and free. We fight, we make up, we have good sex. Only . .
. I think we’ll skip the sex tonight and just cuddle. Right? You’ll cuddle with
me?”
Bucky nodded and buried himself deeper into Steve’s arms, his face nuzzling his
mate’s neck.
Scooping Bucky up into strong arms, as if the other man weighed nothing, Steve
climbed carefully into their large bed. He settled quickly, tucking the fully
dressed man in with him, a soft duvet wrapped around them both. Steve cuddled
his lover, peppering soft kisses over Bucky’s hair and face, his manner gentle
and protective and, oh so loving.
“You and me, right, Alpha?” Bucky whispered.
“To the end of life’s line, Bucky, you and me,” Steve confirmed.
***** Of Visitors and Families *****
As dusk fell hours later, Steve stretched and woke, smiling at the heavy feel
of his mate in his arms. He didn’t prefer to sleep in his clothes, but the
large blond wouldn’t have changed a second of their closeness that dawn. Any
time taken to strip would have been time out of Bucky’s arms. Gently, softly,
Steve finally began undoing his mate’s clothes, trying not to disturb him but
trying to undress his mate for comfort.
“Five more minutes . . .” Bucky grumbled, wrapping his arm tighter around his
Alpha.
Chuckling, Steve kissed Bucky’s pretty pout, beard scratching lightly over
those rosy, plush lips. “You can sleep as long as you like. Just let me get you
out of these clothes, my love. They can't be comfortable. I’ll feed Summer so
you can sleep in.”
Groaning, Bucky nuzzled his face deeper into the soft material of the pillow .
. . the vampyre had never been an early riser, even as a human. His hair stuck
up wildly in different directions from cuddling close to his mate all day.
With a low chuckle of affection, Steve finished slipping the shirt and
waistcoat off his lover. He unfastened and removed the belt, but left Bucky’s
trousers alone. “Maybe we should think about braiding your hair before bed in
the future. Less tangles,” he offered on a grin. Steve finally slipped out of
bed, tucking the blanket around Bucky in place of his own energy heat.
Bucky whimpered pitifully as his Alpha left the bed, “I would suggest cutting
it if I didn’t enjoy you pulling it so much,” the brunet grumbled, face still
in the pillow and voice deep with sleep.
Barking a loud laugh at that, Steve shook his head. “I think I could tug on it
even short. You manage quite nicely with mine.” The blond turned and smiled
down at the pup, her eyes wide and settled on the so very large vampyre.
Raising her hands and cooing, the sight was enough to melt any heart, and
Steve’s was half marshmallow at it was. He scooped up the little girl and sank
to the edge of the bed, holding her against his chest to let energy seep into
her. “Did you notice, Buck? She’s going ginger.”
“Was the Dam redheaded?” Bucky asked, lifting his head from the pillow to blink
blearily at his mate and pup.
“No,” Steve shook his head, voice light. “Alexander was a blond almost lighter
than me. His mate had brown hair, I think, but no one really knew, since Alex
had a lot of lovers.” Looking over, Steve sighed, “his sire, Scott, let him run
a bit wild for a youth.”
Flopping back down to nuzzle the the soft pillow again, Bucky murmured, “wasn’t
Jean Summers a redhead?”
With surprised eyes, Steve turned to look at his Omega. “Are you suggesting she
was the pup’s sire?”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Bucky murmured shifting his body to look at
Steve, “I’m merely stating fact. You said once that Jean was a redhead . . .
and that she was quite powerful?”
“The most powerful Alpha in the entire clan and leader of that house. She was
being considered for elder come the spring.” Steve sighed. “I still cannot
comprehend how Hydra managed to take out an entire house of energy channelers.”
Bucky sighed, giving up on getting any more sleep for he was too awake now, and
sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair was even messier from all the shuffling he’d
done to try and get comfortable. “Are you sure they all were killed? Were all
the bodies found?”
“None of the bodies were found, Bucky. Just the pup and Alexander.” Steve
groaned at the injustice of being unable to lay Summer’s first family to rest.
“Just the pup and a houseful of energy stains. The only body was the Dam,
pretty much unrecognizable, and we’ve determined that it was in all probability
Alexander, since he was the only New York Summers to be that far with pre-pup.”
“So,” Bucky said, wrapping his arm around his abdomen, “they might not actually
be dead, Steve. Hydra could be keeping them in a facility somewhere.”
“But to leave the one body? And all that energy splashed around? Bucky, it had
to be a massacre.” Steve looked troubled, turning fully to his mate as Summer
fed from him.
Bucky slipped out of the bed and walked over to the small vanity to grab a
brush, running it through his mess of tangles; the Omega said softly, “we know
Hydra is experimenting on vampyres . . . why would they throw away the
opportunity to have an entire house of energy channelers.”
“And kidnapping pups. Leaving such a prize is counter-intuitive,” Steve agreed.
“But how could they even hope to contain that group? Buck, you’ve seen the
Maximoff mind control. Well, Wanda’s clan also moves things with their mind.
The Summers clan can thrust their energy into anything, slicing it or exploding
it. And they are immune to ultraviolet. The sun feeds them, Bucky!”
The brunet winced as he brushed through a rather difficult knot, “and if they
don’t have sun? Kept in absolute darkness?”
“Unlike the rest of us, they . . . starve.” Steve looked horrified. “And they
were attacked at full night, while other houses were attacked in daylight.
Hydra knew exactly who they were attacking.” Suddenly, as if he realized
something and was distracted from the main thrust of their discussion, Steve
looked at the energetic little pup who needed such constant attention. “When
does a Summers pup need to start taking sunlight?” He sounded worried.
Pulling his hair back into a low ponytail, unable to do his usual bun only one
handed, Bucky turned back to look at Steve and the pup, “I don’t know . . . do
you think that’s why she’s always hungry?”
Whispering, Steve said, “Riley . . . he knows so much about the clans.
Genealogy and clan history are his specialties.” Steve looked up, eyes wide
with worry. “And, yeah, I think so. She’s not getting the right kind of energy
from us.” Guilt washed over the Alpha’s face and he cuddled their pup closer.
Pulling on a shirt, Bucky walked over to the pair, “if she needs sunlight . . .
we have to give it to her. I can go out there . . . you’ll just have to feed me
afterwards.”
Steve reached, one handed, for his own shirt and pulled it on, shuffling the
pup around so he could get his other arm in. Without bothering to close the
garment, afraid to deprive the pup any energy she could get now that he
suspected the happy child was indeed starving, the Alpha headed for the door
with a determined stride. “It’s not going to be daylight for hours, Buck. The
sun just set. But if Riley thinks that’s necessary, yes, we can do it that
way.” He looked at his mate, and his words proved that Steve was willing to let
Bucky be independent and take risks, as long as Bucky allowed Steve to help
him, nourish and protect him afterwards.
Nodding, Bucky followed close behind Steve.
As they made their way into the hall, Steve lowered is tones to a whisper, not
wishing to wake the entire house. “The only other thing I can think of would be
to hunt down another Summer's house and . . . and . . .” Steve shook his head,
his love for their misfit pup too great to complete that thought . . . the idea
of giving her away too painful to allow to complete.
Bucky froze, stopping mid-step in the middle of the hall.
Johnny, just opening the door to his own room, frowned at the pair. He softly,
in Steve’s same deep baritone, said, “if it will help her, why would it bother
you to give away a pup?” The vampyre turn and strode downstairs without looking
back.
Steve staggered as if struck physically by Johnny’s venomous remark.
Bucky whimpered pitifully, arm wrapping tighter around his abdomen and his
whole body seemed to tremble.
Frowning, eyes narrowing and flashing golden fire, Steve shook his head and
turned to thrust the pup into Bucky’s shirt, ripping a pair of buttons in the
process. “We won’t give her up if there’s any other way, Bucky! She’s our pup.”
“Am I a bad dam for wanting to keep her, Steve?” Bucky looked up at his mate
with wide eyes.
“A bad dam wouldn’t want to keep their pup. You’ll only be a bad dam if keeping
Summer kills her. I know you’ll do what’s right for our pup, Bucky, even if it
hurts. But,” and he hugged the other man forcefully to him, whispering in the
brunet's ear, “we’ll exhaust every option before making that call. Let’s talk
to Riley.”
“You should go after your son, Steve . . . I can speak to Riley,” Bucky held
Summer closer, rocking her gently.
Growling, Steve looked at Bucky’s face, eyes meeting. “Are you sure?” he asked
almost breathlessly. He knew there was a huge breach with his first pup, and
Steve wanted so much to heal that gaping hole. He wanted Johnny to come home.
Nodding, Bucky gestured to the stairs with a tilt of his chin, “go, Steve. We
will be fine.”
Kissing Bucky’s forehead, Steve nodded and stroked the tuft of strawberry blond
hair sticking out of the top of Bucky’s shirt. Whirling quickly, Steve sprinted
all but silently down the steps to go find Johnny.
In the room nearby, close enough to be heard by Bucky, Riley sat softly humming
an odd lilting song as he brushed his own light blond hair, trying not to
disturb Sam. He had a very serious topic to discuss with his mate, and hoped
the long rest had eased the man’s temper after the pair of Alphas had
discovered that Riley let a fledgling leave with a vampire on some secret
mission.
Softly, to avoid waking them if they slept, Bucky knocked and called, “Riley .
. . it’s Bucky . . . can we speak?”
Standing, glancing over at his mate, Riley headed for the bedroom door. He’d
moved out of his own room in the double-suite the day after they’d bonded in
the bathroom. Opening the barrier, Riley frowned softly at the sight of Bucky’s
torn shirt and the tuft of hair bobbing around inside the shirt, a soft
chuckling coo emitting from the pup hidden inside. Stepping into the hall,
Riley softly shut the door. “What is wrong?”
“Steve and I . . . we just realized that we may not be feeding Summer correctly
. . .” Bucky answered.
Nodding, Riley walked Bucky back down the hall into his room. “And why do you
think that?” Riley asked, gesturing to the chairs set by the cradle.
Sitting down, Bucky looked over at Riley, “she’s a Summers, Riley. They feed
off of sunlight, right?”
“You never said she was adopted,” Riley murmured and reached over to open
Bucky’s shirt. He gently pulled the infant to him and undressed her, studying
her carefully, even opening her mouth. “She does seem a bit malnourished. If
she’s from the sunfeeders, she’ll need ultraviolet in addition to bioelectric.”
Riley lifted his head and offered the pup back. “That could be a bit of a
problem, unless you allowed Stark to live.”
“Stark is alive,” Bucky nodded and took the pup, “but I am not sure if he’ll
want to actively help one of our kind.”
With a soft, indelicate snort, Riley rolled his ever-narrowed eyes, the
expression appeared to be more of a natural tilt to his eyes rather than a
disdainful or lazy expression now that Bucky had come to know the other man.
“Tony Stark is a diva waiting for a performance. He will create you an
ultraviolet maker simply to prove he can and will give it to you in gratitude
for coming up with the idea.” The blond offered his rare smile., something seen
a bit more since his bonding. “Until it’s done, you can feed Summer in the
daylight and let Steve feed you afterwards.” His idea echoed Bucky’s. “Your
mate has more than enough to provide you regular feedings for awhile.”
Bucky nodded and stood back up to place the pup back in the crib, flattening
the wild tuft of hair, “that is what I was thinking, as well. I will pay
another visit to Stark.”
Chuckling low, Riley offered, “I’d take your disgruntled mate with you. He must
have been upset that he was confined to the house and you weren’t, since the
council restricted him, not you.”
Wincing, Bucky nodded, “yes, I won’t leave him again. I hope Sam wasn’t too
upset at you.”
“Less than Steve was at you,” Riley assured his friend. “But Steve was more
frightened you would be hurt and need him and unable to call for him. He didn’t
care that Snap was with you, and even though Wade’s been with this house for a
month or so, Steve still doesn’t fully trust him.” Touching the strawberry hair
of the pup softly, Riley got a strange, almost serene smile on his face. “I’m
sure Steve forgave you in the end?”
“He did,” Bucky nodded, “I also told him about . . . the pup.” The brunet
touched his abdomen again, caressing the skin softly.
“Then there are three of us with pup,” Riley confirmed. He hugged Bucky. “And
we’ll have healthy, strong ones.” A hint of fear laced the man’s voice, a
memory of his own pup having been so weak she starved in his arms.
“I am worried for Peter. He is not strong enough,” Bucky murmured, thinking
about the symptoms the weak fledgling showed.
Sighing, Riley changed his answer, “four then, but I think we’ll have to
convince Wade to . . . end the pup before Peter and the pup die. The boy won’t
survive a whelping . . . too much blood loss. And without it’s dam during the
birth, the pup may not make it, either. It’s too great a risk.”
Bucky sighed and ran his hand down his face; freezing, the Omega suddenly
realized what Riley had said, “wait . . . who is the fourth?”
Blinking in apparent surprise, Riley said, “Clint . . . didn’t you feel it?”
The brunet shook his head and lowered his hand so it rested on his abdomen
again, “how did Clint get pregnant? I am surprised Romanov let anyone touch her
Omega.”
Studying Bucky for a long silent moment, Riley said, “you weren’t told? Any
Alpha can get any Omega pregnant . . . though a female to male impregnation is
as rare as a newborn whelping.”
Blinking, Bucky looked thoughtful before saying, “I do not think Steve’s pup,
Johnny, likes me very much. Although I didn’t exactly make a great first
impression.”
“Steve’s pup? I’ve been out of the loop a bit long, I think. Isn’t Steve’s pup
supposed to be dead?” Riley didn’t beg forgiveness for his bluntness.
“I guess not. Pierce gave the pup to the Storm clan,” Bucky sighed and shook
his head, a few stray locks of hair escaping the loose ponytail; he hadn’t been
able to secure the leather tightly with only one hand.
Riley frowned, his quick mind racing over the various problems he perceived.
Finally, he said, “If Johnny is a Storm, and willing, you won’t need a machine
to feed Summer. Storm clan members can produce energy, even ultraviolet.
However, if he isn’t pleased to find you here, he may not be willing to aid you
if another option is available. But I doubt the rulers of New England would
refuse a starving pup, even if the Storm available isn’t pleased with the dam.”
Nodding, Riley asked, as if he’d solved one problem to his satisfaction, “so,
why do you think Johnny dislikes you?”
“Well,” Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair, pulling more out of
the rope, “I did snap at him when we first met. But Steve and I had just
fought. I am unsure how much of the argument he’d heard.” The brunet shook his
head and added, “plus, he saw no problem with Steve’s suggestion, as a last
resort, to try and find more of the Summers clan to give Summer too.”
“Why would he see a problem with that? He was also given to a surrogate.” Riley
finally reached over and took Bucky’s hair leather out, straightening the
brunet’s hair by combing his fingers gently through it.
Stopping by the opened door, Sam smiled at the sight of the two Omegas; there
was something special about seeing a man, once known as the vicious ‘Winter
Soldier,’ allowing a friend to help pull back his hair.
Swiftly Riley braided Bucky’s hair and tied it back. “You can ask for help
until you learn to do it yourself, Bucky,” he chided gently. “And you can ask
for a tool that helps you braid or tie while you’re asking for a feeding
machine for Summer.”
Bucky nodded, “yeah, that may not be a bad idea . . .”
“What do you need a feeding machine for?” Sam asked, making Bucky jump slightly
at the unexpected voice.
Riley, sudden mischief in his blue eyes, said, “for scaring us I should let you
catch me kissing him next time.” He crossed his arms and stared at Sam.
Sam quirked a brow and smirked at the Omegas, “do not tempt me, Riley Wilson.”
A soft, unexpected laugh tumbled from the blond. “Summer was first part of the
energy-feeders, Sam, she needs ultraviolet to thrive. I told Bucky to ask
Stark, the human inventor, for a machine to help out.”
“Ah,” Sam nodded, “that makes sense.”
“Well, it’s either that or stand in the sunlight to feed her, or ask Steve’s
other pup, Johnny, to do the honors.” Riley shrugged, letting his arms unfold,
a hand slipping down over his own, slightly rounding abdomen.
Sam’s eyes seemed to focus on the movement and look of serenity on Riley’s
face. Bucky’s eyes moved between the two mates, “I should . . . uh - - go find
Steve . . .” the brunet muttered and stepped away from Riley, heading towards
the door.
Without removing his gaze from Sam’s deep brown one, Riley said, “let Wade know
I need to talk to him about his Petey? That pup will kill the boy.”
Nodding, looking somber, Bucky slid past Sam, “yeah, okay.” The brunet left the
room, his footfalls silent as he walked down the hall and stairs.
Riley offered Sam his fleeting smile and said, “I, too, am with pup, Alpha.”
The once reclusive vampyre was always blunt.
Sam’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped, “you’re - - my pup? You sure?”
“Yes,” Riley assured Sam without taking offense, knowing he didn’t doubt
Riley’s fidelity but his own ‘cleverness’ of producing offspring. Most Alphas
were stunned by their own virility when faced with the result.
The dark-skinned vampyre surged forward to embrace his lover, kissing Riley’s
lips, “my sweet Omega . . . our pup!”
“Sam,” Riley’s voice sounded softer, troubled, as he leaned into his mate and
protector. “My only other pup starved in my arms. I don’t know why or if this
pup will be just as handicapped.”
Sam’s eyes softened and he nodded, “we will do everything we can to make sure
the pup is healthy.”
Nodding, Riley buried his face in Sam’s neck, scenting for reassurance.
Whispering against the dark skin, the pale vampyre said, “would you think less
of me to know I have no idea who the sire was? I was gang-raped. Back then. It
is not something I have told even Bucky.”
Growling, Sam wrapped his arms tighter around his Omega, “I will never think
less of you. If I could I would kill every one of those Alphas that dared to
violate you.”
Lifting his head, in a simple detached tone, Riley said, “I already did. Then I
went into hiding in Philadelphia so no one would know it was me. I never took
it to the law.”
Sam nodded and kissed Riley’s temple, “I love you, Riley.”
“And, never doubt, that I love you with my very essence and soul, Sam Wilson.”
Riley leaned his face back into his mate’s neck, sighing in the scent of his
strong Alpha. “An Omega is not a weakling, and I hope Bucky never feels that
way. He’s so delicate right now in his fledgling stage.” The mature vampyre
stroked his mate’s chest, through his cloths. “And his own mate is still so
unsure, despite his years. His young abuse has challenged him, Sam.”
“They are learning together,” Sam nodded.
Downstairs, Johnny stood in the large library, looking through the countless
titles lining the shelves.
Steve knocked on the door. “Johnny Storm? It’s Steve Rogers. May I come in to
discuss our plans?” He wanted to dig into why Johnny would make such a remark
to a grieving Omega, but was too uncertain how to even approach his son to do
so.
“You are welcomed in here,” Johnny answered back, without tearing his eyes from
the shelf in front of him.
Walking in, leaving the library door open so his guest didn’t feel trapped, the
taller blond strode over to the smaller. “And, I wanted to introduce you to
someone . . . if you allow it?”
Johnny shrugged, still not looking at the taller man, “sure.”
“Then please, follow me.” Steve turned to the back entrance of the library and
opened the door softly, a cool breeze wafting in from the rooms below. He
walked softly as he spoke, leading the man down into the stone vaults below the
mansion. “I am not sure how much you know about newborn pregnancy, but it can
lead to Omega madness and pup deformity.” He kept walking, not glancing at the
man following.
Once they got down a flight, Steve led his guest, his son, outside through a
moon garden, alight with white flowers blooming in the moonlight, and through a
far door into the family tomb. “This is your sister, Winnie,” he said softly,
hand lightly touching the freshly completed stone work on the pup’s final
resting place. “She died not two months ago, in the womb.”
Johnny stared at the carved stone, a sudden aching in his chest from the words
he'd spoken to the Omega, “I - - I did not know, Steve. I am sorry for what I
said to you and your dam.”
“Thank you, Johnny. I don’t ask you to like anyone in my house if you cannot,
but I ask you show them respect if possible.” He nodded to the younger vampyre
and gestured. “Did you want to know what was wrong with her? Bucky can hardly
talk about it, but you have a right as her family . . . even if you claim a
different clan.” Steve touched the stone marker, his eyes sad.
Looking at Steve and then back down at the stone, Johnny nodded, “what happened
with her? Why did your Omega miscarry?”
“Winnie was formed without a brain, Johnny, only a brain stem. And he
miscarried after helping me try to rescue kidnapped pups and newborns from
Hydra. We only found his sister left behind and practically dead.” Steve sighed
and let his hand drop. “I’m not sure if it was the knowledge that Alexander
Pierce was truly a vampyre, not the human he claimed, and had lied Bucky’s
entire life, killing and torturing his first family. Or if it was the pup’s
time. Or if the sight of me having to convert Becca to save her . . . or all
three.” Steve looked at Johnny. “Pierce took you from me at whelping and I
never saw you or heard of you again. I thought he killed you. Perhaps the one
good thing that monster did was give you to a caring clan like the Storms . . .
they were good to you?” Hope raged in Steve’s broken voice as he looked to the
man his son had become through no help from his biological parents.
Johnny let out a deep breath and nodded, “yes, they always treated me as if I
was one of their own. I grew up healthy.”
“Then they treated you well,” Steve sounded relieved.
“Yes,” Johnny nodded, looking up at Steve, he continued, “I always thought of
you as someone who gave me up . . . that didn't want to be bothered to raise
me. It is nice to know how truly wrong I was.”
“Please, Johnny, can you tell me if you know when you were placed with the
Storms? If Pierce kept you . . . for whatever reasons for any length of time?”
Steve worried his pup had been abused or neglected before being given away.
“I have been with the Storms for as long as I can remember, Steve,” Johnny
looked up at the taller blond with sincere sapphire eyes.
Nodding, Steve lowered his voice. “Pierce abused me as a newborn and fledgling,
neglected me. I was afraid he may have hidden you and repeated his abuse on
you, as well.” The man looked at his son and drew a breath. “Please know,
Johnny, I would have kept you close if I had any say. I was compelled to let
you go.”
“Is that the reason you don't compel your own Omega? I have never seen a
relationship like the two of you have,” Johnny mused, he ran a hand through his
hair, ruffling it slightly.
Nodding, the larger Alpha ran his hand through his hair again. “I try not to
break Bucky’s trust and steal his will. I would do the same for anyone in my
power, Johnny. They’re individuals and deserve the respect.” He offered a
hopeful smile to the younger Alpha. “If you wish to spend time here, you might
get to know us . . .”
“I would like that,” Johnny answered with a soft smile.
Bucky's soft, timid voice carried over the two Alphas, “Steve . . . Wade and
Peter are about to get some pretty upsetting news. Your assistance might be
needed.”
“Please, Johnny, feel free to wander this house and talk to whomever you find
who will speak with you. Whether you know it or not, this house will always be
yours. But these members of my house, even if they are not Rogers clan, need me
right now. Forgive me.” Steve turned and hurried after Bucky, slipping a hand
to the brunet’s back and dropping a quick, loving kiss to his temple.
Leaning in closer, Bucky whispered in his mate's ear, “Peter is with pup . . .
But Riley and Natasha are going to recommend abortion and sterilization. The
whelping would kill both of them.”
Wincing at the information but trusting the two older vampyres to know what
they were considering, Steve nodded. “Wade might or might not take the news
well, but I’m not sure how his fledgling will handle it. He was so young when
converted . . . and the half-breed of his nature makes him unpredictable.
“You want to what?!” Wade's voice thundered throughout the entire house, “like
hell!”
Riley slid a protective arm around Peter, who whimpered, large brown eyes huge
in the face of his Alpha’s anger, even though it wasn’t directed at him.
Calmly, the older Omega stated, “Wade, unless you can point to precedent of a
vampire surviving a cesarian operation or whelping a live birth from a male
body, this is the best solution to keep your boy alive.”
As Steve and Bucky entered the large sitting room, Wade whirled around and
pointed at Bucky, “how can you sit by and let them even talk about this? You
know what it’s like to lose a pup! You’re okay with putting Peter through
that?”
The brunet Omega pushed himself closer into Steve’s side, his arm wrapping
around his abdomen.
Riley sighed and repeated, “if you can point to a viable way we can keep him
alive, I’m listening, Wade. But none of us, even at my age, are familiar enough
with vampires to know if the blood loss will kill them both.”
Wade growled and rubbed the top of his bald head; the Alpha began to pace and
mutter incoherently under his breath, talking back and forth with voices no one
but he could hear.
“Maybe you could find a vampyre with abilities to phase the pup right out of
the womb when it’s time,” Clint suggested from his chair near the fire. He
looked to his own Alpha for her opinion.
“No, my darling,” Natasha said softly, “there is no clan with that ability, as
helpful as that would be.”
“The Pryde clan died out over four hundred years ago,” Riley confirmed. “Their
last member, a girl immature named Kathryn, is in containment and thought to be
extremely unstable, as she was witness to the vampire slaughter that happened
while she was still a newborn. She never rehabilitated, despite years of
efforts.” He shook his head. “The elders would never consent to her release to
help a half-breed. They’d order Peter, Wade, and the pup killed instead.”
Wade stopped pacing, he looked up at Riley with pained, angry eyes.
Steve held up a hand. “Wade. How certain is Peter’s death if he’s allowed to
carry to term? To attempt delivery?”
Sighing, Wade looked to his mate, still in Riley’s arms, “I would not be able
to provide enough blood for him to survive. We would need several humans to
even stand a chance.”
“And would he survive if someone else could provide the blood? If we found
volunteers willing to donate?” Steve asked, his quick mind trying to find
another solution, always trying to find a solution other than death.
“No one is going to volunteer to donate blood, Steve,” Bucky said softly,
“especially not humans.”
“So,” Steve frowned behind his beard, glancing at his mate then back at Wade,
“you know of no other vampires would would help?”
“For a procedure as delicate as this one?” Wade shook his head, frowning, “it
would have to be human blood. The purest blood there is, the one with the most
healing capabilities.”
Nodding, Steve asked carefully, “so, Wade, the only way vampires can procreate
is by conversion, not whelping?”
“Why do you think we never mate newborns? The only time we are fertile to bear
a pup is during the newborn and fledgling stage,” Wade answered.
Bowing his head, Steve sighed. “I wish I had known. Maybe I could have found
another way to feed Peter.” He lifted his face. “Wade, a male vampyre doesn’t
have the proper opening, as you might guess, to allow a pup to pass. We would
have to cut him open. There’s no other way. And I don’t know if any of us could
heal him with our energy quick enough to help him survive the blood loss.”
Bucky looked to the frightened Omega in Riley’s arms, the taller brunet stepped
away from Steve and walked over to Peter. Kneeling down in front of the younger
boy, Bucky took Peter’s hand in his own, “Peter?” Bucky voice was soft, much
like how he’d soothe Summer.
“Bucky,” Peter whimpered, trying to sound brave, but really just sounding
overwhelmed and terrified.
“I know,” Bucky cooed gently, running his thumb over Peter’s pale knuckles, “I
know how scary this all is. Do you understand what we are talking about? What
is happening to your body?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed. “Believe it or not, I only look like a little kid. I was
nineteen human years when I converted. You’re talking about me being pregnant
but the baby won’t be able to come out, so I'll rip apart and the baby will
die.”
“And you, as well,” Bucky added softly.
“Naturally,” Peter whimpered. “I can’t think of anything unless you find
someone with a blood replacement machine and a large supply of blood.”
Quirking a brow, a thought suddenly hitting him, Bucky looked to Steve from
over his shoulder, “I may have an idea.” The ex-hunter stood up and nodded
towards Peter, “you’re a genius, Peter.”
“I used to study under Mr. Stark, Bucky. Until he stopped taking students.”
Peter whimpered, unable to hold it back. Riley stroked his hair.
Walking back to stand in front of Steve, Bucky said, “you willing to go on a
little trip with me?”
“Always,” the big blond answered promptly. “Especially if it will help us.”
Looking back to the room, Bucky said, “just hold off on any rash decisions
until we get back.”
Softly, frowning, Riley said, “he’s going to need to abort within the week for
it to be small enough to pass from his body, Bucky. Any longer and we might as
well let him carry to full term then kill them both.”
Nodding, Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and led them out of the room, “want to meet
Tony Stark, Steve?”
“Yes, and maybe while he’s trying to help Peter, he can help our Summer, too.”
Steve wrapped an arm around his mate and squeezed in pride, offering a quick
smile. “Wade, if you can think of anyone sympathetic to you who may tolerate
us, feel free to bring it here. My house is your’s,” he called before they were
out of earshot.
“Actually,” Bucky said, “your son may be able to help Summer, if he is
willing.”
Steve looked at Johnny, standing quietly in the doorway to the den. “If you
wish to ask him, Bucky. Johnny wanted to talk to you, as well.” Steve felt
Johnny would do best giving his own apology to the grieving brunet.
Looking at Johnny, surprised by the fact he hadn’t even seen the blond standing
there, Bucky’s eyes nervously flickered to Steve before settling on Steve’s
son.
The slightly shorter and far leaner blond bowed at the shoulders, tone somber
and regretful. “I am sorry for how I spoke to you both, how I treated you. I
did not understand you had a loss. I was cruel.”
Bucky bowed his head, “thank you, Johnny Storm, I am sorry as well for the way
I treated you upon your arrival.”
The blond surprised the pair by shaking his head. “You had been having a rough
night and were frightened I might cause you more pain. I forgive such strong
emotions, Dam Rogers. Any Omega is protective.”
Smiling softly, Bucky said, “thank you for your forgiveness.”
“And I thank you for your’s.” The younger Alpha took a slow breath. “Your mate
has given me leave to use the house, but I would like your’s, too, if you grant
it.”
“You are welcome here,” Bucky nodded, “however, I do wish to ask a favor of
you?”
“You said I could help someone named Summer. Tell me how?” Johnny’s good heart
showed through now that he didn’t feel like he was the throw-away sneaking back
in.
“If you’d follow us?” Bucky gestured to the stairs with a tilt of his chin.
The two blonds let Bucky lead them to the bedroom where the infant slept,
Pietro watching her in fascination as Darcy fed her. Looking up, the Beta
smiled. “She was crying and I know you guys were busy with the vampire newborn,
so . . .” she shrugged.
“Thank you,” Bucky smiled, walking over to Darcy. He took his pup from the
Beta’s arms and rocked the infant gently.
“This is truly a mixed house,” Johnny murmured. “Vampires as well as ex-hunters
living in harmony with our kind? One would think that this is what the elders
would hold up as an example to the other clans.”
“And yet, we are not in grace with the elders,” Steve sighed. “Meet our pup,
Summer. She was a pre-pup whelped by force from a house in massacre. We were
granted her as our own.”
Bucky looked at Johnny, “would you like to hold her?” This showed the trust and
forgiveness the Omega felt towards Steve’s son.
Suddenly the younger blond’s eyes lit up. He apparently loved pups, something
which seemed surprising in light of his earlier harsh comment. Walking over,
Johnny held out his arms carefully; he knew the proper way to hold one, it
seemed, too. “Please?”
Transferring the tiny pup to Johnny’s arms, Bucky said softly, “we are unable
to feed her as she needs . . . she is half starving.”
With a light frown, checking over the pup in his arms, Johnny nodded his
agreement. “She is starving. How? Is she another vampire breed?”
“No, she was from the Summers clan . . . she needs sunlight,” Bucky’s pale eyes
met Johnny’s sapphire ones.
Eyes opening wide, Johnny’s head shot up and he breathed out, “we missed one?”
“Missed one?” Steve growled softly, “that better not be how it sounds, Storm .
. .”
Holding one hand up, Johnny shook his head. “My sister, Susan, and I were
passing by when the attack happened. We broke down the door to help. I think we
got most of them, but some attackers fled. So, we brought the victims we could
find back to our house to tend. Sue can stop energy leaks with her energy and I
can turn mine to fire.” The lean man sighed. “We left the dead, but I had no
idea one had actually been alive.”
“Did one of the bodies you left bear the signs of a pregnancy?” Steve asked,
intent on finding out how many bodies were left, since only one had been found.
Bucky’s eyes widened, Summer’s clan was alive. Alive and not in Hydra’s hands.
The brunet stumbled back and let out a whimper. Steve caught Bucky’s shoulders
and held him tight, letting healing energy flow into his confused mate.
“Yes, a male by the name of Alexander, I believe, was the only one even showing
signs of being with pup, and he was perhaps a couple of weeks from delivery. He
was torn to pieces by that pack.” Johnny looked at Bucky in worry. “Two of the
other three were Alphas. There was a youth named Nathaniel, his sire, Scott,
and a female Alpha named Madelyne.”
“So, Jean is alive?” Bucky asked softly, looking at Summer with pained eyes.
“Jean is in a coma,” Johnny confirmed, “and we’ve petitioned for a Maximoff to
come aid her.”
Shaking his head, Bucky pulled away from Steve’s grip and walked over to the
coat rack that stood near the closet. Grabbing his coat, the brunet pulled it
on and bent down to grab his boots.
“Bucky?” Steve ventured. “Talk to me, baby?”
“We gotta go talk to Tony . . . about Peter - - the . . . the machine,” Bucky
said, pulling on both shoes.
“And . . .” his mate prodded, stepping closer, leaving the pup in Johnny’s
arms.
“We can’t keep her from her clan, Steve, we can’t. That’s her family . . .”
Bucky muttered.
“You’re a good Omega,” Steve praised, wrapping his arms around Bucky. “But we
can offer them a house to live in since theirs was wrecked, until they rebuild,
right? And we can allow Summer visiting rights.” He kissed Bucky’s temple. “I’m
sure they’d agree when they find out how much you’ve done for her, that you
were willing to stand in the sun to feed her.”
“You’re not understanding me, Steve. I’m not talking about her visiting . . .
you have said that a pup needs to grow up where it belongs . . . with it’s
culture. The Summers are her culture, Steve. They will be able to feed her
without a machine. She will grow up with other pups that can run and play in
the sun, not stay here where she will grow in the darkness that is unnatural to
her.”
Lifting Bucky’s face, Steve nodded, looking sad not happy. “Yes, I know, Bucky.
I’m agreeing with that. But, as much as it hurts to have Summer raised by
someone else, we can still visit with her. She may not be lost to us
completely, Buck.”
Johnny cleared his throat. “Obviously you’re new to raising pups, the pair of
you.” He looked down at the little girl in his arms. Cradling her easily in one
strong arm, Johnny lifted a hand and his sapphire glow eased over the tiny pup,
making her skin glow bright. After a moment, her eyes wide and shining, she
chuckled gleefully, looking happier than she ever had - - content, not at all
pale or hungry. “You’ve had her since she was taken from the womb, correct?”
Johnny asked, smiling at the pup.
“Yes,” Steve answered, hugging Bucky.
With a nod, Johnny stepped over and place the pup in the Omega’s arm. “Then
she’s bonded with you pair or she’d have starved within the week. She make not
be as healthy as you want, but she won’t be happy without you. A pup is only
given to another clan if it’s a last resort.” He lifted his eyes to meet
Steve’s, “or if the whelping family doesn’t want it and would rather it died
than remained.”
Steve flinched.
Turning his look on Bucky, Johnny said, “the Summers won’t take her back
because it would kill her. It will be them asking for visiting rights, not
you.” He stroked the pup’s cheek as she gurgled up at her dam. “She is a
Rogers, not a Summers.”
“They won’t . . . attack us, will they?” The Omega asked, thinking of all the
other Alphas he’d met and Osborn’s attack.
“For saving the life of Alexander’s pup?” Johnny shook his head. “No, you were
awarded the pup by the safehouse, and the safehouse knows best. You are to be
considered allies and friends for your efforts and love, not rivals or
enemies.” Johnny hesitated then reached out and put a hand over Bucky’s hand.
“Please believe me. You are what’s best for her. I’ll feed her regularly if you
wish. I’d be honored . . . to care for my little sister.”
“The Osborns were considered our allies as well,” Bucky murmured; he’d heard
Steve talking to Sam the other day . . . just as the dark-skinned man had
warned, Harry, the new clan leader in wake of his sire’s death, had vowed
revenge.
“The Osborns? I think I’m missing information if their name is coming into
this.” Johnny frowned at his host.
“Norman tried to take Summer, attacked the house. Bucky was forced to kill him
to defend the pup.” Steve’s tone was harsh, almost angry.
“Ah, and the Osborns are angry about Norman? Are they ashamed for the attack?
They should be. They had no right to interfere in a house where the safehouse
or elders had already decree something.” Johnny shook his head and withdrew his
hand so he could cross his arms over his athletic, if not overly showy, chest.
“No,” Bucky scoffed, “they want me dead.”
“Well, the Osborns have all been a bit mad, haven’t they?” Johnny snorted,
unimpressed. “They feed off insanity and climb walls. They are one of the least
powerful and most jealous clans around.” He shook his head. “No, if you didn’t
kill Alexander, and I am witness that you did not, you are no enemy of the
Summers clan. They will be pleased the pup survived at all. I had thought the
dam and pup dead and there would be no pup without your interference.”
Nodding, Bucky offered Johnny a small smile and offered Summer back to him,
“would you watch her while we are out? It shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”
Bowing at the shoulders, formally, to signify he accept the trust and
responsibility, Johnny took the pup. “It will be my honor and privilege.”
Flushing a bit, he softly asked, “what should I call you?”
“Bucky is fine,” the brunet smiled warmly at Johnny.
“Bucky,” Johnny repeated and smiled back, sapphire eyes no longer glowing but
intense all the same. “A pup will grow into its clan’s abilities. You’ll see.
She’ll be just like you when she’s grown.”
“As long as she is healthy, I am happy,” Bucky answered.
With a laugh, Johnny threw back his head. “Spoken like a true dam. My sister,
Sue, said the same thing when Franklin was whelped.” He winked at Bucky, almost
as if he flirted with the brunet. “Go, talk to your human pet. I’ll protect my
sister and this house.”
Offering a bent elbow to his mate, Bucky smirked at Steve, “shall we go,
Alpha?”
“Of course, my love,” Steve said, a smile on his beautiful face. “Off to see .
. .” he glanced to Johnny then chuckled, “your human pet. Do you wrap all men
around your pretty Omega fingers?”
Bucky winked and smiled his wicked smile, “how else am I supposed to get the
things I desire?”
Steve threw his own head back and laughed, the sound nearly identical, as was
the action, to Johnny’s. He walked Bucky into the night air, still chuckling.
“Let’s go see this famous human of the tools and brandy.”
***** Of Terror and Tools *****
As Steve escorted his mate down the dark street, enjoying the feel of the
chilly wind on his flesh, he spoke, softly, “Johnny was kidding when he told
you what the Osborns do. They can release minor explosions of energy, yes, but
they also release some sort of hallucinogenic energy.”
Pressing closer to his Alpha, tucking his chin closer to his chest to duck the
bitter wind, Bucky was thankful for the braid his hair was in . . . or else his
long hair would be going everywhere in the strong winds. “Hallucinogenic? Like
a drug or something?”
“Well, it’s their energy but most other vampyres react to it as if it were a
drug, yes. Rogers clan is mostly immune to the effects of toxins, but we are
affected for a time by Osborn energy.”
Stuffing his hand in his pocket, Bucky shivered.
“Are you unwell, Buck? You seem cold.” Steve wrapped his arm around his mate,
worried.
“Probably just the pup,” Bucky said softly, looking up at Steve just as cold
sheets of rain began to fall from the sky, “perfect,” the Omega grumbled
unhappily as his clothes became quickly soaked through.
“Our pup,” Steve said with wonder in his voice and a quick hug for his
disgruntled Omega. “I am so proud of you, Bucky. You don’t hide in a back room
when your pregnant. You get out and still do things, take care of business. My
strong Omega.” He nuzzled Bucky’s neck.
Bucky keened at the praise, leaning into his mate’s touch, however, he said,
“this rain is fucking cold. I can hardly see anything.”
“And the smell of the rain on the stones makes me nervous,” Steve suddenly
agreed, looking around, scanning the shadows and rooftops. All loving playful
thoughts were pushed away as something, some odd feeling, seemed to creep up
Steve’s spine.
“Alpha? Something isn’t right?” Bucky huddled closer to Steve’s side, eyes
looking around, but the heavy rain all but blinded the Omega.
“Yeah, I think you’re onto something, Buck,” Steve straightened, letting Bucky
go but walking close. “If something happens, you are permitted to defend us,
Bucky, so don’t hold back.”
Steve’s warning came just in time, as his words were cut off in a cloud of
venomous green energy, causing the tall blond to gag and stumble.
“Steve!” Bucky screamed and rushed over to his Alpha.
Bending over, hands on his knees, gagging and spitting, Steve lifted his eyes,
clouded with a faint green glow over the blue and gold. “Bucky?” He gasped, his
eyes crossing and uncrossing then crossing once more. A low, unusual sounding,
chuckle escaped the big blond and he suddenly grinned widely and nodded. “Okay,
where were you hiding the dancing monkey, love?”
“What?” Bucky looked horrified, he turned to look over his shoulder, squinting
in the onslaught of pelting rain.
Another ball of green energy came crashing down, landing near Bucky but missing
him. Someone on the roof above them began to curse in a high pitched annoying
voice. “Stupid fuckin’ hunter bitch! Stay still!”
Snarling, Bucky’s eyes flared with golden fire and he crouched low in a
defensive stance, defending his incapacitated Alpha. “Come and fight you
coward!” The Omega growled.
“You heard the bitch. Go fuck him up!” The voice called back and suddenly ten
vampyres seemed to rush from the shadows, most heading straight for Bucky,
while two attacked the disoriented, giggling, drooling Steve.
Screaming in fury, Bucky tackled one of the nearest vampyres, using his speed
and agility. Wrapping his arm tightly around the large Alpha’s throat, the
brunet used the strong body to spin himself around and the Omega pulled him
down to the pavement with a sickening crunch as the man’s spine snapped in
half.
The one who’d ordered the attack remained on the roof, shrieking at his clan to
‘kill the bitch!’ He wasn’t quiet, sounding like a cat in heat more or less.
“Fucking Omega bitch!” One of the Alpha’s snarled, body coiled tightly before
springing towards the brunet.
Pinning another Alpha to the wall, Bucky sunk his teeth into his throat and
ripped a chunk of skin and muscle away, bright green energy seeping through his
teeth, running down the Omega’s chin. The Alpha gurgled and spasmed as the ex-
hunter let the body fall to the ground in a heap.
Two Alphas attacked Bucky from behind, growling and snarling ferociously. “Get
the bitch to the ground!” One of them sneered; the Omega felt himself be thrown
to the ground, his back colliding with the unforgiving pavement effectively
knocking the air out of him, and his vision blacked out momentarily as his head
smacked against the solid surface with a loud thud.
“Look! The bitch is pregnant,” one leered, pulling up the hem of Bucky’s shirt,
shredding the fabric, revealing the small pup-bump. “That all you’re good for,
Omega? Spreading your legs and popping out pups?”
Blinking, trying to clear his fuzzy vision, the Omega snarled and pulled at the
hands pinning him to the ground; his need to protect his unborn pup making him
go wild.
A third lined up to rip him, nipples to nuts, but froze. Eyes widening, the
third one seemed to stiffen then fell down onto top of Bucky, energy leaking
out in a steady hot stream of greenish glow. A long, deadly looking arrow,
protruded from the back of the vampyre’s head. From a nearby alley the sound of
voices and metallic crunching emerged.
Bucky fought against the two vampyres holding him down, snarling and snapping
with his vicious fangs, an absolutely feral look in his eyes, the thin cotton
of his shirt ripping more with his efforts.
Two figures, man shaped but wrought from gleaming brass and fixed with running
gears and lenses, stomped towards the fight, forcing some type of fluid from
pressurized hoses in their arms. “Over there, Rhodey! The pack has one down!”
Tony Stark’s surprising voice echoed from his metal protective suit.
Several of the vampyres looked toward the sound, and one seemed to hurt himself
as he screamed out, slamming heavily to the ground. He looked around, eyes a
sickly greenish glow, growling, thenyelled as his body jerked and spasmed, a
dark greenish bruising quickly lifting to his neck followed by a steady energy
leak, though it was still uncertain how he'd even been injured.
Using the distraction to his advantage, Bucky twisted his body and pulled
against the vampyres hold, his right shoulder popping out of socket as he
wrenched it free. With a cry, the Omega shoved one of the attacker’s away with
his damaged arm.
A blur of red and black wrapped around the vampyre Bucky had shoved. Wrapping
her legs around the Alpha’s neck, Natasha twisted and tugged until the Osborn
clan member’s neck snapped, almost a complete one-eighty. The Romanov leader
rolled off the collapsing corpse with her usual grace.
Another arrow shot from the shadows, hitting one of the vampyres between the
eyes; the victim collapsing against the delusional Steve, green energy leaking
down the giggling, stumbling blond, who stared at a shop window and seemed to
be counting candy bowls on the display inside.
Rhodey and Tony in their brass and gear suits continued to spray the closest
offenders with their strange liquid, causing a melting effect and drawing
agonized, angry screams from the Osborn members.
The vampyre with inexplicable injuries gave a yelp, leaping to his feet and
shaking his hand, as if bitten. A moment later, the sound of glass broke as the
glass of the sweetshop broke. A man crawled out of the shop through the broken
window, reaching out to steady himself on the stunned and giggling Steve. A
dark grey energy oozed from his numerous cuts, marking him a vampyre from a
clan Bucky had yet to meet.
Bucky pushed to his knees, his right shoulder screaming in agony but the Omega
ignored the pain and hurried over to his mate, intent on protecting him from
the possible new threat.
A third arrow whistled right past Bucky’s head and into the face of one of the
few remaining attackers, causing a spurt of green energy everywhere, even on
Bucky’s face, and a gurgling death rattle. Finally, from the roof, Harry
screeched, “retreat you idiots!” The three remaining vampyres took off for the
safety of the shadows, one severely limping and leaking copious amounts of
green energy.
Kneeling in the icy water that had puddled in the pavement, Bucky cried out,
“Steve? Alpha?” The brunet pulled himself closer to his mate, he could tell his
shoulder was already healing wrong, having not been set back into the socket.
The unknown vampyre groaned and made no move to interfere with the pair,
sinking to the wet ground and lifting a sliced, oozing hand to touch a rather
prominently draining area amid his dark brown locks.
“Should we chase them down, Alpha?” Clint’s eager voice sounded from where he
waited in the protective darkness.
Popping open the protective face mask of his mechanized suit, Tony said, “huh,
the soldier and his team.”
The man with Tony pushed back his own face protector, revealing a dark-skinned
human with a frowning, severe expression. “They’re vampyres, Tony. We just
saved vampyres from other vampyres.”
Clint didn’t leave the shadows as he called out again, “Alpha?”
“Darling,” Natasha called softly, “go back to the house. Tell Sam and Riley
what has happened. The elders will need to know.”
“No chase then?” Clint asked but obeyed instantly, running off on quiet feet.
T’Challa stepped over to Bucky and, without warning, pulled his shoulder into
place, holding him down in his strong grip to do so. “I apologize that I am
late in arriving.” His soft voice sounded almost musical in its accent.
Bucky yelped in pain, the ache in his shoulder throbbing . . . but that pain
slowly ebbed away as the injury healed. “Steve!” Bucky cried out again, his
voice frantic and scared.
The unknown vampyre looked over and said, "huh, Rogers? What the hell did you
do to piss off the Osborn clan?"
Opening his eyes, the green finally washed away, the Alpha lay there looking
confused. He coughed and turned over then vomited. Panting, he gasped, “what
the hell happened to me, Buck?” All polite accents had been abandoned, and he
spoke pure Brooklyn.
Sobbing with relief, Bucky lurched away from T’Challa’s grip and rushed over to
Steve, “Harry Osborn attacked you.”
“Shit,” the blond panted, curling slightly on the wet cobbles, wrapping an arm
around his belly to try to contain the nausea. “Are you hurt, Bucky?” His hand
shot out and he tugged the other man, weakly, towards himself. “Buck? Who did
that,” he growled, fingering the ripped cloth.
Bucky shivered, the rain pelting his bare chest, “that Alpha,” the Omega
gestured to the vampyre Natasha had killed, “he . . . saw that I was pregnant.
Said the usual shit,” Bucky sneered, “ya know? How I'm only made to spread my
legs and bear pups.”
“Then he was a fool as well as a monster,” Steve choked out, finally, with the
last cough, regaining his breath. He sat up and pulled Bucky onto his lap.
“He’s barely older than a youth himself and so was an Omega for I’d say
sixteen, if I don’t miss my guess about his identity. And to say a fledgling is
only made to have pups shows idiocy.” Steve nuzzled Bucky’s neck and checked
him over for injuries, frowning severely at the golden bruising on the
shoulder. “You’re still hurt . . .” Steve’s large strong hand settled
protectively over Bucky’s pup-bump.
Wincing slightly, as if Steve's words brought awareness to his injuries, but
not wanting to worry his weakened mate, the Omega shook his head and answered,
“not anymore. T’Challa set my shoulder back in. Also, I think I may have
cracked my head open, but that's already healing as well.” Lifting his hand to
rub the back of his head, Bucky winced again as his fingertips brushed over a
rather large bump from where his head had smacked against the pavement.
Worry crossed Steve’s eyes and he reached up his shaking hand to touch Bucky’s
temple. “We . . . thanks, T’Challa . . .” Steve gasped. He lifted his dirty,
wet face and his pained blue eyes met Bucky’s. Muddy water dripped from Steve’s
face, tangling through his beard. “Thank god they followed us.”
“We did not, actually,” T’Challa said. “Natasha wished to see the moon and I
accompanied them. We heard the attack and followed the screeching.” Curling his
lip in a disapproving sneer, the powerful vampyre said, “a true coward, Harry
Osborn, only calling the attack and not joining.” He reached down and offered
the surprise good Samaritan a hand, which the man took with a grateful wince.
"Thank you for your assistance Hank Pym," he intoned and bowed at the
shoulders.
"Eleven against two seemed hardly fair," the Pym leader responded, wincing as
his hand came away from yet another cut with dark grey energy stains.
Bucky nodded and wrapped his arm around his abdomen, fear coursing through him,
Steve’s hand trapped below the brunet’s strong limb. He was unable to form the
words of gratitude for the assistance of yet another unknown ally.
“He will recover quickly,” the dark-skinned, somber Alpha informed the pale,
brunet Omega. “It should be almost gone from his system now. Do you feel ill,
Dam Rogers?”
As Steve lifted his hand, the Omega caressed his small bump from the pup; his
clothes were completely sodden, hanging from his lean frame. Locks of his
chestnut hair fell from his braid, clinging to his pale face. Bucky trembled
and his teeth clattered from the icy rainfall.
“My god, Buck, they didn’t hit you with that toxic shit, did they?” Steve
looked over his mate desperately.
“Why don’t we take this party inside?” Tony’s voice sounded. “My place is right
down the block. I’ve even got a fire burning. Pepper will see to us. Come on. A
party to celebrate kicking green ass.”
Steve eased up to a sitting position, still checking over his mate. “Buck?”
Eyes half gold and half pale blue, Bucky looked over at his Alpha, his
expression fearful . . . he couldn’t feel anything wrong with the pup . . . but
what if it had been hurt in the attack? What if he had another miscarriage?
Hank Pym sighed. "I would aid further, but I was trying to find a wayward
member. If you see Scott Pym, let him know he's had plenty of time to 'figure
out his place in the clan' and that he is needed back home." Hank turned and
limped into an adjoining street and out of sight.
T’Challa firmly said, “I will stay with these corpses, as will Natasha. We will
face the inquiry. Go with your mate, Dam Rogers, to this human’s hospitality.
Get dry and comfortable and talk with him.”
Steve nodded and pushed to his feet, pulling Bucky into his arms carefully.
“Thank you, T’Challa Romanov.” He looked at the men in metal suits, the darker
one watching warily, apparently ready to shoot the acid over these vampyres as
well. But the light skinned man merely offered a grin and said, “So, Jimmy,
couldn’t stay away from my charm? Had to bring a playmate?” Stark turned and
stomped stiffly back down the street towards his tower, Rhodey following while
still eyeing the pair of vampyres his friend had, for some reason, offered full
hospitality to.
Bucky shivered and whimpered softly in Steve’s arms, his hand still resting on
the swell of his belly, as if he could sense the pup under his fingertips. “Are
- - are you okay, Alpha?” The brunet asked through clacking teeth.
“I feel weak and a bit shaky, but, yeah, I’m fine, Buck,” Steve answered, still
in his native accents. He wrapped both arms around the smaller brunet, trying
to infuse him with energy as they walked. Fortunately, it wasn’t far to Tony’s
tower and the pair reached it within ten minutes.
“Don’t - - don’t giv- - give me . . . energy, S-Steve. Y-you need i-it,” Bucky
said, his whole body felt chilled, ice cold.
“Have you forgotten already, my love? Whenever I feed you, I get stronger.
Romanov says it’s a mark of true mates. So, let me feed you, please?” Steve
nuzzled at Bucky’s throat with his cold nose, scenting the sweet, pregnant odor
of him.
“Coming in, Jimbo?” Tony called from the doorway of his tower.
Nodding, the ex-hunter stepped into the dry, warm building, making the Omega
sigh in relief.
“Hey,” Tony suddenly sounded impressed. “Is that the Captain?” He backed
noisily out of the way of his two dangerous guests.
“S-Sure is,” Bucky answered, “Tony . . . meet S-Steve. Steve . . . meet Tony.”
“I’d shake your bloodless hand, Capsicle, but I’m kinda partial to no energy
mess on the brass.” Tony turned and pulled a lever, more steam and heat began
to fill the room. “So, you happened to be strolling in my direction when eleven
pissed off vampyres attacked you? Jimmy, you make the worse kind of enemies,
don’t you.” The man with the black hair and goatee finally wriggled out of his
chest covering.
Still shaking, the drenched Omega narrowed his eyes; his irises were still half
filled with golden fire.
Looking over the pair of drenched vampyres, Tony rolled his eyes. “Pep! Can you
bring some towels and those two Jarvis-sized robes? We have guests, honey!”
A few minutes later, a slim, red haired woman walked into the room, her heels
echoing loudly as they clacked against the hard floor. “Here you go, oh - -”
her eyes widened at the sight of the two obvious vampyres.
“Yeah, this is Jimmy Barnes and his friend the Captain,” Tony gestured then
made an awkward waving motion as he tried desperately to remove his gauntlet.
“Jimmy? As in James Barnes . . . that hunter you never stop talking about?”
Pepper looked at the Omega, eyes trailing over the lean frame; they seemed to
focus, however, on the noticeable swell of Bucky’s abdomen.
“Exact and only,” Tony chirruped in confirmation He had less trouble with the
second gauntlet before kneeling to begin on one of his greaves.
“Thank you for allowing us in and caring for us,” Steve bowed at the shoulders
formally.
Bucky snorted and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying from the end
of his braid. “Tony doesn’t have a formal bone in his body, Steve.”
“But his . . . mate?” Steve continued to look at the pretty redhead, “should be
shown all courtesy, Bucky. I would expect no less in my house and so will grant
no less in theirs.”
Pepper smiled tentatively and handed the towels and robes over to Steve, “thank
you, Captain?”
Smiling behind his beard at the woman, Steve moved to immediately care for
Bucky first. “I’ve never been a captain. Hydra calls me that because it makes
me sound more vicious than I am. Please, call me Steve. I am Steve Rogers of
the Rogers clan.”
Bucky preened under Steve’s attention, much like a cat. The warm, dry towel
felt nice against his chilled body.
“When we get back to the house, Buck, we’ll ask Wanda to check the pup,” Steve
reassured his worried mate.
That instantly stopped the nuzzling vampyre, his hand once more going to his
stomach.
“Want me to check?” Tony offered, standing, free of all brass. “I can use my
photographic equipment with a special solution called radium to check inside
the body without cutting you open.”
The Omega looked unsure; he didn’t really want one of Tony’s crazy inventions
anywhere near his pup.
“Actually, we would feel better with Wanda, if you don’t mind, Stark,” Steve
responded politely. “But if you are interested in helping us with your wondrous
machines, I have another pregnant member of my house which needs you. He cannot
deliver without great blood loss, and we don’t want to lose him.”
Tony looked thoughtful. “I didn’t know a vampyre could bleed . . .”
“Vampyres can’t,” Bucky answered softly. His head ached dully; bringing his
hand to massage one of his temples, the Omega continued, “vampires can.”
“I didn’t know vampires could get pregnant,” Tony switched thought processes.
Steve sighed, wrapping his arm more securely around his mate, his bare hand
over Bucky’s abdomen and lightly providing him energy once again. “This one is
a half-breed. He is half vampyre, half vampire. He’s pregnant but the cesarean
will cause too much blood loss. We need a way to replace the loss.”
“I remember a similar machine to what we need that you used on me after my spat
with Romanov,” Bucky stated on a sigh; Steve’s energy helped the pounding in
his head slightly but didn’t erase it completely . . . what was going on? He
should be completely healed by now.
“Yeah, I call it a blood transfusion machine because I transfuse blood into the
patient. I still have it in the laboratory.” The inventor nodded. “Of course,
it requires a viable blood supply to work with and the sooner the operation
ends and the body begins healing and replacing the blood . . . but could this
man even replace his own blood . . . and a male that’s pregnant? Jimmy, you’ve
been holding out on me!”
Bucky winced, Tony’s loud voice making the pain behind his eyes worsen; rubbing
his temples, the ex-hunter groaned, “a lot has changed in the last few months,
Tony.”
The man nodded and headed for his liquor. “Rhodey, want something? Steve? I’d
offer to you, Jimmy, but I am under the firm belief that any foreign substance
should be avoided by a pregnant mother.”
The brunet’s head shot up, the movement making the Omega wince; his hand moved
to rest near Steve’s on his abdomen. “That obvious, huh?”
“After you said something about wanting a woman named Wanda to check a pup then
Steve said you had another pregnant member, yeah, very obvious,” Tony grinned
and sipped his fresh brandy.
“I knew it,” Pepper smiled at both Bucky and Steve, “when are you due?” The
woman didn’t seem put off by the fact that a man was pregnant.
Rhodey snorted and began trying to get out of his brass suit. “Please don’t
ever let me be a vampyre. I don’t think I can handle being pregnant.”
“Four months,” Bucky answered, looking at Pepper.
“How delightful,” Pepper beamed.
With a sighed, still steadily feeding Bucky and the pre-pup in his abdomen,
Steve said, “it would be much better if we could find a way to deliver the pups
of male Omegas without having to cut them open. Peter will bleed and a vampire
needs blood to live.” The leader tried to keep the conversation on their task.
Leaning into Steve’s side, Bucky rested his head on the Alpha’s shoulder, the
pressure helping ease the throbbing headache slightly. “Can you help,Tony?”
“Said I could, didn’t I?” He nodded and lifted the snifter from before his
mouth. “I can provide and even run the machine, but we need a blood supply.”
Putting down the large glass, Tony looked at Pepper. “Can you think of any of
our volunteers we can pay to let us take a pint each? If we can get enough
volunteers, we’ll have a viable supply.”
“There are a few,” Pepper nodded, “let me go send some messengers to fetch
them.” At that, the proper, tall woman turned on her heel and strode out of the
room.
“So, how soon we need to do this, Jimbo? I can have the machine up and running
in an hour.” Tony grinned widely, pleased to be permitted to use his inventions
on a totally new subject for reasons not including torture.
“He won’t deliver for another four months,” Bucky answered; his eyes were
closed, the lights in the room only making the pain in his head worse.
Pausing, Tony frowned. Sighing, he called loudly, “Pep! We won’t need them for
four months! He’s due when Jimmy is!”
Steve kissed Bucky’s temple giving him gentle energy. Whispering, he asked,
“was there something else we needed, love?”
Shaking his head, trying to move as little as possible while doing it, Bucky
answered back, eyes still closed, “no . . . I don’t believe so.”
Nodding, lifting his other hand to stroke back Bucky’s wet hair, Steve said,
“Riley said something about braiding your hair with a tool? Did you still want
that?” He rubbed his beard against the brunet’s temple, slightly scratchy.
Humming softly, Bucky cracked his eyes open, squinting against the lighting,
“there is something else, Tony.”
Eagerly, the inventor turned to the vampyre, apparently not bothered that he
hosted the mortal enemy of his own race. “What can I make for you?”
“I want something that can help me pull my hair back . . . braid it?” Bucky
asked softly, a slight blush creeping into his face.
Nodding, Tony grinned widely. “I’ll make you a beautiful hand, Jimmy!”
“I don’t want a hand or an arm, Tony,” Bucky said.
Surprised, coming to a standstill, the raven-haired human frowned. “Why not?”
Looking up at his mate and then back to Tony, Bucky sighed, once more rubbing
his temple in soothing circles, “because, I was reborn with one arm. My left
caused too much horror in my past life. I am content with my body the way it is
now.”
“But weren’t you left-hand dominant?” Tony asked, causing Steve to wince in
sympathy.
“Yes,” Bucky grumbled, “but I am teaching myself how to write again and do
things right-handed.”
Pursing his lips, Tony began to nod. “A stick with a loop on it, one that can
resize . . . and maybe a second stick which you can thread a leather through to
use to tie off the braid . . .” His eyes seemed to unfocus as he spoke out
loud. “I can come up with many things to make it easier to dress, put on your
boots, of course a replacement arm and hand would be most ideal, but if you
wanna go around one-armed, that’s your business. So, Jimmy,” Tony looked up,
“what other things you want help doing? I can’t make it unless you tell me
about it.” The man seemed to almost vibrate with excitement at the challenges.
“Can’t think of anything else . . . ‘course I can’t really think at all right
now,” Bucky grumbled, eyes closing again in a wince.
“You need medicine or something?” Tony frowned, stepping right over to the
vampyres and beginning to study Bucky’s head, pushing aside his hair as Steve
let out a soft, very low, warning growl from deep in his chest. Tony ignored
the Alpha vampyre. Frowning, Tony shook his head. “Nasty lump, Jimbo. Not
healing.”
Shocked, Steve shot a look down at his mate. “But I’ve been tending you non-
stop. You should be healed by now.” He sounded very worried, unsure why this
new twist happened.
Shrugging, Bucky looked up at Steve, “I did hit it pretty hard? Maybe it was
bad enough that it is taking this long?” The Omega didn’t sound convinced by
his own theory.
“Buck, you healed faster after the cesarean, and that was a serious operation.”
Steve stroked his fingers down Bucky’s cheek then moved his large hand to cover
the head injury and push more energy gently into both head and abdomen.
Hissing as Steve touched the painful injury, Bucky fought the urge to pull away
from the uncomfortable contact.
“You need a complete feeding?” Steve asked softly.
Flushing, Bucky looked down, avoiding Tony and Rhodey’s curious gazes, “I - -
uh . . . it feels better?”
Sighing, Steve picked Bucky up into his arms. “May we have a private room,
please, Master Stark? I need to feed my mate and that is best done in private.”
“Steve . . .” Bucky whined, sounding like a child would after its parents told
an embarrassing story. The Omega, however, didn’t fight against Steve’s hold.
“Feeding?” Tony frowned and nodded. “Pep! Need a private room for our guests?
Give ‘em whatever they need, short of your soul.”
Bucky groaned and pouted softly as Pepper led the two vampyres down the hall.
Opening a door, the redhead gestured into the dark room, the windows blocked
with thick curtains, “will this do, Mister Rogers?”
“This is perfect, Dam Stark. Thank you.” He bowed at the shoulders, still
holding Bucky easily. “I apologize for the inconvenience.
Bucky grumbled incoherently under his breath, but Pepper just shook her head
and smiled, “no inconvenience at all, Mister Rogers. It is nice to have guests.
My husband tends to isolate himself with all his machines.”
“We appreciate that we are able to have these peaceful relations with your
house,” Steve replied and lay Bucky on the bed. “We will have to impose on you
for two more requests, please, Dam Stark. We will need to stay until next
nightfall. And we need a message sent to our house to inform my son to continue
feeding his sister for us.”
“Yes, of course,” Pepper nodded, “I will send a messenger right away.”
With a thankful smile behind his muddy, red-gold beard, Steve softly gave her
the directions to his house and told her how the messenger should approach and
talk to the house. He said, “have your messenger ask specifically for Riley
Wilson or Sam Wilson, please. And, if the messenger can let the Wilson know
that we have arranged for the machine for Peter and are arranging donors, as
well, I believe our house will be quite relieved.”
Nodding, Pepper stepped back, her hand resting on the door, “it will be done,
Mr. Rogers. Now, please, focus on your husband.”
“In our community, Bucky and I are not husband and wife. I am the Alpha and he
the Omega.” Steve smiled. “We are the beginning and end of one another.”
“Omega,” Pepper repeated as she shut the door, letting the two mates have their
privacy.
Bucky had already taken off the tattered remains of his shirt and was looking
at his right shoulder, still mottled with a dark golden bruise.
Steve paced the room then smiled when he found a working wash station. Running
water over several soft cloths, he walked back over. “We may clean up as well,
Buck.” Steve stripped himself quickly and shucked Bucky’s pants off. Gently, he
began bathing Bucky’s face and head then his shoulder. Finally, he handed a
cloth to Bucky and began to clean himself off, washing the mud from his beard
as well as the rest of his body.
“You still feel weak, Alpha?” Bucky asked softly, his hand rubbing the warm
cloth over his abdomen.
Straightening, back to Bucky, Steve’s eyes widened. “What did you say, Buck?”
His voice contained a bit of wonder.
“Uh . . . I asked if you still felt weak? I’m sorry . . . should I not have
asked?” Bucky bit his lip and looked concerned.
“No, Bucky!” Steve turned, “your exact words, please . . .” he strode over.
“You still feel weak, Alpha?” Bucky repeated, eyes, still half gold and half
blue, looking up at his mate.
“Weak . . . Alpha . . .” Steve repeated, thinking, trying to capture an elusive
memory from his own youth. Suddenly, he grinned widely and sealed his lips over
Bucky’s in a fierce, pleased kiss. Breaking away, he laughed and stroked
Bucky’s pup-bump. “You’re pregnant with an Alpha, Bucky!”
“What?” Bucky looked down, “How . . . how do you know?”
Still laughing, Steve leaned over and kissed the pup-bump, growling playfully,
“ah, you are such an energy hog, aren’t you my love?” Steve looked up, eyes
joyous. “It’s a rare thing. Most pups become Alpha when they hit maturity. But,
sometimes an Alpha is whelped. They’re notorious for needing about five times
the energy. It’s why you aren’t healing. Our pup is taking the energy.”
“Alpha?” Bucky repeated on a breath, looking at Steve and then back to where
his pup lay in his womb.
“Not only rare, but considered a very good omen, Buck. A born Alpha is usually
stronger than other Alphas. This one will be a leader.” He stroked the brunet’s
abdomen, delighted. “You are the dam of leaders and fighters, my perfect
Omega.” He sounded proud and pleased.
Smiling at the pride in Steve’s tone, the Omega lifted his arm to wrap around
the Alpha’s neck. Bringing the blond in for a passionate kiss, Bucky breathed
against his mate’s lips, “our strong pup . . .”
“And the next will be a strong Omega like its dam,” Steve vowed, kissing back,
hands slipping over his mate’s body. “Now lay back my love, and let me feed you
both, please.” He started stroking himself to full erection.
Laying down on the soft, plush pillows, Bucky keened and arched into Steve’s
touch, his body drinking in the energy the Alpha transferred. The Omega
trembled, much like he used to do when he still had hunger heats. Slick began
to readily leak from his opening, coating his thighs and filling the room with
his sweet scent.
Kissing Bucky’s mate mark, Steve murmured, “you will be experiencing hunger as
often as when you were a newborn with our pup, Bucky. Maybe not every half
hour, but at least every two. I’ll need to feed you regularly, so we will have
to plan our missions well.” He began to kiss Bucky’s neck and shoulder, moving
to the brunet’s chest, centering on a nipple to suck and lave. Steve caressed
the head of his large member against Bucky’s passage but didn’t enter him yet,
spreading the slick generously around.
Bucky groaned, eyes rolling back as his hips canted, his erect member brushing
against Steve’s pelvis. “Stevie . . . please . . .”
“Of course, my love,” Steve soothed and slid inside in one smooth movement. He
made sure to slide across Bucky’s prostate. “I will make you feel so full
you’ll sleep like a pup until your next feeding,” Steve promised.
The brunet ran his fingernails down Steve’s back, a low moan echoing in the
room as the Omega pushed down against the Alpha’s hips, burying the blond
deeper.
Softly groaning, Steve obeyed the silent cue and began to thrust, long and
deep, strokes. He kept his rhythm even but picked up the pace every fifth
stroke, pushing his lover harder towards the edge. With a naughty smile,
obvious despite the beard, Steve suddenly let his energy knot swell slightly
near the head of his massive tool, deep inside Bucky.
Bucky’s mouth dropped open slightly as he began to pant and claw at Steve’s
back, the energy knot that slammed into his prostate with each stroke nearly
knocking his breath away. The Omega’s face pulled into an expression of pure
ecstasy, his slick continuing to run out of his body and onto the bed, masking
the room heavier in his scent.
Groaning much louder, Steve felt his flesh knot form as he, unexpectedly, began
to cum. “Buck,” he warned a second too late, driving deep as his member pulsed
and released rope after rope of thick life-seed mixed with a surge of deep
energy directly for the burnet’s womb and through his veins.
The brunet keened and arched off the bed, matching his mate’s orgasm with one
of his own, coating his chest with his own hot seed.
The blond panted, chest heaving, and began to softly kiss his mate’s chest once
more. The orgasm had come so quickly, it had been almost like the energy had
been pulled from him rather than released normally. Steve suspected his very
hungry pup had needed more than it had been getting regularly. No wonder Bucky
had been so drained these last few weeks.
Bucky’s looked down at his mate with half-lidded eyes, the pale blue finally
completely back in his irises. The Omega’s breath came out in rough, heavy
pants and his hand continued to run down along the bumps of Steve’s spine.
“The next feeding might be as quick, love,” Steve warned. “Until you and our
pup catch up. Rest and let me cuddle you, please? I want to feel you both in my
arms, beside me, safe.” He kissed Bucky’s mate marked so gently it was more of
a whisper of Steve’s lips rather than a touch.
Humming in happiness, Bucky turned his head into Steve’s chest and breathed in
deeply as he let his eyes close. The Omega seemed completely worn out, his
movements were sluggish.
Steve continued to gently let his energy flow into the pair, letting his own
eyes close but not sleeping. He would stay awake and renew his energy by loving
his mate, continually feeding the pair so they would regain their strength.
Kissing Bucky’s wounded shoulder, Steve concentrated a larger burst there, to
help his mate heal.
Bucky hummed again, an almost purring noise, “Love you, Alpha.”
“And I love you both so much, Bucky.” Steve kissed Bucky’s shoulder again then
moved to the brunet’s mate mark. He curled his arms securely around the lean
man, one hand protectively over the pup-bump. “You may sleep, Buck, rest and
regain your strength.”
“Kay,” Bucky murmured and then his breathing evened out as the Omega fell into
a deep sleep.
Steve woke Bucky for feedings every two hours throughout the night and next
day, always an intense, hurried loving and energy sharing. He cuddled the rest
of the time, keeping a watch over his mate and unborn pup, only letting himself
lightly doze. The sun did peek slightly around the curtains, but Steve kept the
thick blankets pulled over his mate to protect him from the energy loss the
ultraviolet would cause. When darkness fell once more, Steve kissed Bucky’s
mate mark, raking his teeth very lightly over the flesh.
Bucky grumbled sleepily and buried his face deeper into the crook of Steve’s
neck; his body still felt drained, and he didn’t even feel like moving. “Warm .
. .”
“Yes,” Steve breathed against the Omega’s neck. “Tony keeps his house very
warm.”
“Don’t wanna get up,” Bucky mumbled, curling up tighter around his Alpha.
“So, we are moving into Tony Stark’s house now?” Steve asked in a playful,
amused voice.
“If that means me not having to move . . . yes,” Bucky answered in a grumble.
Steve laughed low, his face buried in Bucky’s neck and shoulder, beard lightly
scratching over the flesh there. “And do you think Tony’s dam will tolerate a
pair of vampyres claiming her best guestroom?”
Bucky whined and pushed himself up, his pale eyes glaring at his mate, his hair
sticking up wildly.
Smiling wider, blue eyes merry, Steve said, “I didn’t say you had to get up
yet, my love. I was only talking . . .”
“Talking means not sleeping, Alpha . . .” Bucky stretched and moved to caress
the swell of his abdomen. Steve had a bad habit of saying the Omega could rest
more but then starting a conversation, making it hard for the brunet to
actually sleep in.
“Well,” Steve stretched out and climbed from the wonderful bed, “as long as
you’re getting up, we can thank our hosts and get back to our own house.”
Grumbling as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Bucky’s lips pulled into a
childish pout, “can I go back to sleep when we get home?”
“Of course. I’m sure you’ll want to cuddle Summer while you do so,” Steve
grinned, knowing the mention of their other pup would bring Bucky to heel in a
more pleasant way than compelling him to leave the human’s dwelling.
Sliding out of the bed, Bucky bent down to pick up his trousers but sighed at
the ruined remains of his shirt.
Shaking his head, Steve sighed. “I should have asked if we could have these
laundered. Don’t bother putting them on, Buck, they’re disgusting.” The tall
blond gathered the clothing instead and walked to the door. So used to vampyre
culture and the fact that nudity was pretty much acceptable, the man left the
room without thinking.
“Steve!” Bucky said, trying to stop his mate from walking into the hall naked,
but the Omega stopped at the door.
Pepper, who had been walking down the hall froze at the sight of the blond
vampyre in all his naked glory, “oh! Mister Rogers . . .” her eyes trailed down
the muscular form, a bright flush on her cheeks.
“I apologize, Dam Stark, but we forgot to ask if we could get laundered
clothing.” Steve offered a smile, not in the least shy or aware he’d broken a
human taboo.
“I - - uh . . . I can get you fresh clothes? Those ones are ruined,” the woman
fought to keep her gaze on Steve’s eyes.
“Well, there’s a sight you don’t see everyday. Not bad, Rogers,” Tony stood in
his doorway with a smirk on his face. “Hey, Pep, I’ll help him. You go back to
whatever you were doing.”
Clearing her throat, the woman nodded and hurried away, the blush having crept
down to her neck.
Not admonishing the vampyre, Tony instead walked over and said, “so, vampyres
have no culture limits on clothing?” The inventor and genius seemed actually
intrigued, and the retreating Pepper could tell the man was considering the
personal benefits of being allowed to run around nude whenever he wanted.
Steve suddenly realized what he’d done wrong and flushed, his whole body
turning a shade of red. He walked back into the room he had been sharing with
his mate, Tony following with a chuckle. “My apologies to your dam,” Steve
said.
“Humph,” Tony countered, “it should be me not her you’re apologizing to. Now
I’ve got to live the rest of my life knowing I can never compete with a vampyre
hung like a goddamned horse.”
Bucky yelped in surprise as the door opened and he saw Tony behind his mate; he
quickly grabbed the sheets and pulled them off the bed to cover himself,
“Steve!” The brunet exclaimed, his face bright red and eyes flashing quickly
before settling back to their icy blue.
Still blushing, Steve sank onto the bed and arranged the pile of dirty laundry
over his lap.
Tony moved over to the wardrobe and opened it. “Don’t know if I have something
large enough for you, Capsicle, but I can try.”
“Capsicle?” Steve frowned. That had been the second time their host had called
him that name.
Ignoring the query, Tony pulled out items after item of clothing. “I’ve got
stuff that fits normal people, like Jimmy, but you’re built like an upside down
pyramid on tree stumps.”
Bucky laughed, a loud, cheerful sound. “Oh my God!” The Omega gasped between
laughs, “you’re right!”
Steve turned surprised eyes to his mate but didn’t argue. He blinked and looked
down at himself, the broad muscles, the wide shoulders, the almost too tiny
waist. Frowning slightly, he looked back up. “I don’t see it.”
With tears in his eyes, Bucky shook his head, a bright, beaming smile on his
face, his hand still holding up the sheet around his waist, “that’s okay,
Stevie.”
Finally, Tony said, “nothing for it. I’m gonna have to break every law known to
fashion and give you an unmatched outfit.” He began handing the clothing
articles to Steve, allowing Bucky his dignity. As Steve tried to juggle clean
clothes versus dirty, Tony snickered and scooped the pile of wrecked material
from the larger man’s lap. “I’ve seen it, might as well stop pretending you
have any male pride left . . . though if I was built like that? I’d purposely
scare every woman and pretty boy in town.”
As Steve flushed brighter, his face darker red than his beard, using the clean
clothing to cover himself in belated modesty, Tony went on, “Jimmy, I have no
idea how you can take such a beast, but all the more power to you.”
Now it was Bucky’s turn to blush and duck his head.
Steve stood and stepped between the other men, using his body to shield Bucky
and growling softly. Tony looked surprised then laughed. “I have no desire to
take either of you, Rogers. I’m a woman’s man.” The inventor seemed satisfied
with his actions and walked out the door. “Come on down when you’re ready, love
birds.”
Frowning, Steve still growled, “he is simultaneously kind hearted and the most
obnoxious man I’ve ever dealt with.”
Snorting, Bucky nodded in agreement; dropping the sheet, the Omega grabbed the
items of clothing that Tony had picked out. “That’s Tony Stark to a tee,” Bucky
said as he shimmied into the slim fitting black trousers.
Steve watched him with a small smile growing over his face.
“What?” Bucky asked as he caught Steve’s gaze, looking down at himself and then
back up at his mate.
“No drawers . . .” Steve said, voice mischievous. “And you haven’t fed in a
couple of hours . . .” The large blond put his own borrowed clothes on a chair,
his member already becoming erect at the idea of the beautiful Omega below him.
“Means I could take you whenever I wanted . . .”
The thought of Steve bending him over any available surface caused a shiver of
lust to run down Bucky’s spine. “Wherever you wanted, too, Alpha.”
“And,” Steve suddenly purred, reaching over to drag Bucky to him by the waist,
settling the Omega against his long, hard body, “I get the feeling Tony
wouldn’t mind watching me fill you up.” Steve kissed the jointure of Bucky’s
neck and shoulder.
Moaning, Bucky said, “yes, Alpha . . . show ‘im I’m yours . . .”
“All mine . . .” Steve growled low then nipped at the mate mark.
Bucky could feel his slick already preparing his entrance for his mate; the
erotic idea of Tony watching Steve fill him caused the Omega to tremble and
keen.
“Take those off, please, love. I want you to ride me until you’re both
satisfied.” Steve shimmied back on the soft bed, legs slightly splayed, large
erection jutting proudly towards his belly.
Sliding out of the pants, Bucky straddled his lover’s hips and, in one smooth
motion, sank down onto the Alpha’s large member. The Omega threw his head back
and moaned obscenely.
Down the hall, Tony picked up his head at the sound, a noise heard over the
last twenty-four hours regularly. He grinned at his wife and said, “sounds like
being a vampyre might be fun . . .”
Pepper blushed a deep shade of red as another loud moan echoed down the hall,
“I do not know how they have the energy!”
Laughing, Tony walked over and lightly placed a kiss in the vicinity of her
cheek, missing and getting the side of her mouth instead. “They actually feed
off the combined sexual energy. It’s how they eat. Imagine, being so free with
sexuality you can walk around all day without stifling clothing and make love
whenever you want.”
“I am sure there are some undesirable things about it as well, Tony,” Pepper
answered.
With a nonchalant shrug, Tony said, “well, yeah. Always having humans and
vampires trying to kill your sexy ass would be one big drawback. I wonder if
he’s that large because he was a human freak or if being a vampyre made him
larger.” Tony’s curiosity saw no taboos when seeking answers.
“And needing to get energy in such a . . . delicate way could be dangerous,”
Pepper pointed out, “makes them vulnerable.”
“And how does the guy even walk? My god, he’s huge!” Tony shook his head, still
going off about his choice subject, not seeming to hear Pepper’s concern about
the basic needs of a vampyre’s existence.
“Tony, that is crude,” Pepper admonished; she, too, had seen how well-endowed
Steve had been.
“And poor James. That must have been hard to get used to. I mean, it’s not like
he’s built to have babies out that place.” Tony shook his head. “Glad I’m not
torturing you that way. Aren’t you? Pep? You . . . don’t want me, uh . . .
bigger, right?”
Pepper laughed, but the sound was cut off by another one of Bucky’s loud moans;
looking towards the door and then back to her husband, she shook her head. “Do
I sense a bit of self-consciousness in you, Tony. I never thought I’d see the
day!”
“Well, no, not exactly,” Tony shook his head, frowning. “I just want to make
you happy . . . satisfied. I mean . . . you are satisfied, right? In bed?”
“Yes, dear, I am very satisfied,” Pepper said with a smile.
Relief seemed to make the normally over-confident man sag for a second or two
before he nodded. “Good, because I’m more than satisfied.” He gave his wife
another kiss, this time deliberately on the lips. “So, any word yet about
volunteers to help their friend’s birthing?”
“I have already gotten six volunteers that agreed to do it,” Pepper answered
with a smile.
“Excellent,” Tony nodded, stepping away and back to his desk. Tony wasn’t an
overly affectionate man, being rather inclined to dislike physical contact,
though there were rare moments he seemed to need to touch his wife. In fact,
only Pepper or a test subject ever really got Tony’s human touch. “So, a couple
more for a safety margin and their friend should be fine. Imagine it, Pep, I’ll
be the first man to deliver a vamp . . . huh, what kind of baby would it be?
Mixed from both kinds. Not easy to blend those names because they’re only one
letter and a few sounds different.” His brilliant mind actually latched onto
the trivial detail, a hazard of being a genius.
“Well, first we should focus on making sure . . . the pup? That’s what they
called it, yes?” Pepper tapped her chin in thought.
Tony looked over, sufficiently distracted, “yeah, pup. Why? That’s a canine
thing, right? Why are they called children for us and pups for them? The
language differences and cultural differences are a bit fascinating.” But the
mechanically inclined man soon let the puzzle of anthropology go.
“Well, Steve called himself an Alpha, kind of like a pack of wolves?” Pepper
offered, she wrote something down on the parchment in her lap.
“And Omega, a Greek term. Both are actually - - letters in the Greek alphabet.
The beginning and end.” Tony frowned. “You sure he wasn’t just being romantic?
That’s romantic, right? Calling your spouse the end to your beginning?”
“I am not sure of anything, Tony . . . their culture is a mystery to us. All
we’ve ever done is hunt them,” Pepper’s lips pulled into a frown.
“Yeah, and I get the feeling they don’t hunt us as much as the government wants
us to believe.” Tony flipped open a notebook and began skimming it.
“Well, think about it, neither Steve or Bucky have made any advancement towards
any humans in the building. According to what the government says, they both
should have ravaged the building by now.” Pepper shook her head and scribbled
something else down.
“Maybe the government mixed up the two races? Vampires feed off blood, right?”
Tony glanced over, only half his attention on the conversation, but that was
certainly more than enough. He looked back down at his own notes, flipping
another page.
“That is what they said, yes,” Pepper nodded, “that is why they need your
machine for the pregnant half-breed.”
“Who’d have thought that could happen? How did the guy become a half breed? Was
he born from a vampyre that had been converted by a vampire? And is that
possible? Can one convert the other?” Tony flipped three more pages before
settling his hand on the page and staring at it intently.
Pepper shook her head, looking down at her notes and then back up at her
husband, “maybe they would let you check the half-breed over before the
procedure?”
With a snort, Tony dragged his attention from his book. “They have to let me.
It’s the only way I can make sure the man stays stable. I’m the only one that
can run that machine, besides you.” He glanced back down, tapped the notebook,
and straightened. “Well, Time to get building if I’m to be ready in four
months.”
“Yes, I will see to it that our two guests make it out safely,” Pepper stood
up, smoothing down her skirt.
“And decently,” Tony snickered. “Don’t let the Captain forget his pants this
time.”
“Yes, well,” Pepper flushed and cleared her throat, trying to push away the
image of the large blond vampyre, “I hope his mate will help with that.”
Tony turned and frowned slightly at the look on Pepper’s face. Softly, he said,
“I can make something larger . . . if you want it . . .”
“Tony,” Pepper shook her head and kissed her husband on the lips, “you are what
I want.”
“Okay,” he said still apparently troubled. He went back to his notebook and his
plans to rebuild the machine he’d dismantled after giving Bucky that life-
sustaining transfusion.
***** Of Worries and War *****
Bucky sat in one of the plush chairs in the large sitting room, his hand over
the pup-bump, more visible with being a little over two months along. Even with
Steve’s continuous feedings, the Omega felt drained; with each day that passed
the Alpha pup seemed to need more and more energy, hardly leaving any left over
for the dam. His skin was paler than normal and dark circles hung under his
eyes; all the Omega wanted to do was go back to bed but he knew the household
meeting was very important.
Sitting beside his mate, holding the pup, Summer, in his arms, Steve let a
continual small flow of energy stream from his hand into Bucky’s thigh. He
worried about the Omega, who seemed to be getting worse, not better. They were
already at continual two hour feedings. Softly, Steve asked, “Buck? I can go to
one hour feedings if you want to try it?”
Looking up at his mate, his eyes slightly glazed over with exhaustion, Bucky
hummed and nodded, “might be best.”
Truly worried by the dull reaction, Steve turned and thrust the pup into
Johnny’s arms. Without even asking or warning his Omega, Steve pulled Bucky
onto his lap. The blond pulled off his own waistcoat to cover Bucky’s lap then
unfastened and slipped the brunet’s pants down. He fumbled to get himself
uncovered so he could enter and feed Bucky immediately, despite the crowd,
almost treating him like a needy newborn once more.
Bucky, too tired to even care about the eyes watching, just let his Alpha feed
him, his body practically limp despite the thrusting of his mate.
Without even blushing, Steve turned back to the others, waiting for everyone
else to finally arrive.
Becca watched the exchange with a soft frown as she entered the room with
T’Challa. “Steve?” She knew her brother did not like to be fed in public, but
the brunet Omega didn’t seem to care.
“He’s starving,” Steve murmured in answer to Becca’s tone. “He’s pregnant with
an Alpha pup, I think, and it’s taking all Bucky’s energy.”
T’Challa sighed and nodded, guiding Becca to a chair. “It is common to feed
newborns publicly, Becca, and ill vampyres as well. We have evolved beyond
foolish mortal humiliation at very natural bodily functions. Steve means your
brother no disrespect.”
“But,” Becca’s eyes flickered to her brother and then back to T’Challa, in a
low voice not wanting Bucky to hear, she asked, “he’ll be okay, right? He won’t
lose the pup?”
“If Steve does not find the proper feeding schedule, we will lose both, Becca.
It may be that Bucky will need constant contact, non-stop feeding. This would
be possible even as Steve sleeps, but will limit both of them in activities. I
am sure Steve is doing what he can to prevent Bucky or the pup suffering.” The
tall, lean dark-skinned Romanov looked over at the feeding couple then back to
his fledgling. “If Bucky is with an Alpha pup, and he only a fairly young
fledgling, it can be dangerous.”
Bucky blinked, his eyes regaining some of their usual luster, “Alpha?”
“Yes, Omega,” Steve breathed in his ear, continuing his gentle, steady
thrusting.
Looking around, Bucky sighed in relief as it seemed like none of the other
occupants watched the exchange. “‘M tired, Alpha,” the brunet murmured.
Nodding, Steve kissed his neck. “I’m afraid T’Challa’s right.” Steve had easily
heard the low exchange, though Bucky in all probability missed it in his
exhausted state. “You might need constant feedings, Bucky. The pup is taking so
much energy and you’re still a new fledgling.”
“How will we do that?” Bucky asked.
“By always touching. If possible being like this. Until you level out and it
stops taking so much, you need the constant feeding. If I can't be near,
someone else will have to feed you. I suggest Johnny since he can produce mass
energy without resorting to life-seed exchange. But when I return, you’ll need
a massive dose of life-seed, too.” Steve kissed his mate’s neck again, speaking
quietly but not hiding their conversation, always taking every opportunity to
teach the younger members of the house.
“Mm’kay,” Bucky answered, showing just how exhausted he was.
“I am sure all of us will help feed Bucky when needed, Steve,” T’Challa stated.
At that point Clint walked in before Natasha. He barely glanced at Bucky in
Steve’s lap but his eyes said he knew what they were doing. Darcy followed with
Pietro, still utilizing the Rogers house as a vacation spot away from the
safehouse.
Pietro glanced at the feeding going on but quickly averted his eyes and walked
over to Becca, the two fledglings had became close friends since her arrival at
the safehouse. Becca offered the silver-haired teen a tentative smile, fighting
the urge to look at her brother in such a weakened state.
Clint stayed close to Natasha, though he watched the other fledglings and the
newborn half-breed. Finally, he asked, “Is Petey still a newborn?” It seemed
the safest subject. Clint still held the taboos of his past life so recently
over and was trying hard to be respectful, and not get turned on by, the public
feeding.
Natasha looked to Clint, “it is okay to ask him how often he needs feeding, my
darling, it is not considered rude.”
“Bucky might think it’s rude. We’re barely fledglings.” Clint looked at Nat.
“We’re so new to this life.”
“Bucky is rather busy at the moment, darling, I highly doubt he is aware of
what is going on around him,” Natasha explained gently, her emerald eyes looked
to Steve and Bucky, and surely enough, the brunet seemed to be barely keeping
himself upright in his Alpha’s embrace.
Steve looked at Natasha with worried eyes, holding his Omega close. He slid one
hand under Bucky’s shirt to lay over the pup-bump. “As I told the others,
Natasha, I think it’s an Alpha pup. But I think it might be taking too much
energy.”
Natasha nodded and walked over to the pair, lifting her hand, she looked at
Steve, “may I?”
“Please? I’m worried for the pair,” he answered. “I was debating whether I
should ask Wanda’s advice, but she’s a youth and might not know yet.”
Nodding, Natasha carefully slid her hand to rest next to Steve’s, her eyes
flared with bright green fire as she pushed a powerful surge of energy into the
Omega. After a few moments of transferring energy, she pulled away and said,
“we can send for Stephen again?”
Looking down at his mate, Steve nodded reluctantly. “That would probably be
best.” He sighed and kissed Bucky’s mate mark softly, still thrusting steadily
to provide nonstop energy for his Omega. “Any word on our trial for that clan
attack?” Steve was always thinking about protecting and defending his house.
“Harry and the three that got away were arrested just last night,” Natasha
nodded and stepped back to her own Omega, “the elders have set the trial for
three months from now. However they will be kept locked up until then.”
Shock coursed through the large blond. “Three months? That’s unprecedented,
Natasha. I’ve only heard of a week containment for prisoners. They aren’t going
to let them go?”
Bucky, looking a bit more coherent, although his words were still slightly
slurred together, said, “they’re bad men.”
Clint nodded from where he remained by the door. All they awaited on was Wanda
and Sam for the meeting to begin, since Wade was never far from Peter even if
they didn’t see him at the moment. “And deserve to be punished. But if they’ve
locked them up, wouldn’t they want the trial immediately? I remember your
lessons in vampyre law, Sire, and leader’s right. A week is the maximum
uncharged containment.” The fact that Clint, a member of the Romanov clan, had
called Steve, a member of a different clan, leader showed a worrying confusion
in the fledgling. He’d spent all his new life in the Rogers house rather than
with his own clan.
Natasha quirked a brow at her Omega, “you are right, my darling, but Harry and
his followers have already been charged. The trial is for their punishment,
most likely death.”
“So, they won’t be asking us to talk to them about our own involvement?” Clint
might act like a child, but he had the clever mind of an adult.
“Don’t wanna talk to the elders, Alpha,” Bucky murmured, only catching bits and
pieces of the ongoing conversation.
Steve stroked his Omega’s hair with his free hand. “When they call me, I’ll
leave you here and send if they need you. The elders have special compensation
for pregnant vampyres, and so must allow you the respect of being tried or
questioned in your own house.”
Sam and Wanda walked into the room; both stopped at the sight of Steve feeding
Bucky, a highly uncommon sight.
Peter glanced up at the arrival of their last members and put away his book on
Copernicus. “Bucky’s not well,” he informed the latecomers. “But we can still
talk, right?” He glanced to the shadows where his own Alpha was.
Wade stepped from the corner and looked at Steve, “yeah, I want to know what
this very important meeting is about.”
Taking a breath, Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder before
looking up. “We’ve got enough information to take down the place we found
Becca. Not just one section, but the entire facility.”
Becca’s head snapped to look at Steve intently, “you want to take down that
hell hole?” Her lips curled into a snarl, “I want to help.” She looked up to
her sire.
“We will determine based on our plans if there is room for fledgelings in this
attack, Becca,” he said neutrally.
Becca crossed her arms and frowned, the expression so much like her brother’s
when he was displeased with an answer.
“We have information about three entry ways,” Steve eyed Becca as he talked.
“One is large to accommodate carts of goods. A second is the one we entered in
order to rescue Becca. A third is the main entrance. Bucky mentioned
underground tunnels, but so far we haven’t found them on any known plans for
the building.
“Furthest left corridor. Last door on the right. Left. Five steps. Left. Six
steps. Right. Twenty steps . . .” Bucky began to mumble the directions for the
tunnels pathway that had been ingrained into his memory.
Steve listened carefully and nodded, kissing Bucky every time the man seemed to
talk softer. Fortunately, Riley, with his excellent hearing, had begun to copy
down what the brunet said. Finally, once they had the route, Steve said, “good
job, my love. My smart Omega,” he kissed the mate mark softly again.
Nodding, Clint squatted down, his pup-bump not getting in the way of such a
position yet, though he looked to be as far along as the other, supposedly more
pregnant, Omegas. “So, we need someone to cover the entrances and a team to go
inside.”
“Do we know if they are still using the facility? Will there be a chance of
finding more victims?” Sam asked, looking at Steve.
“If they’re still using it, wouldn’t they still use the prison part? It’s
economically the best idea, especially if their funds from Stark were really
cut,” Peter, of all people, pointed out, his high intelligence shining in his
large brown eyes. He looked so young, but his mind seemed so advanced.
Steve nodded his agreement. “From what I’ve managed to find out, it appears
they might have one or two victims right now. I think they’re slowly reopening
their prisoner area.”
“Even after we saved one?” Sam looked incredulous.
“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “They need to repair the damage we did, but it seems like
they’re still bent on torturing pups and newborns. However, I don’t know which
prisoners they might have or just how many. I got this information from a
member of the Xavier clan. He wasn’t very forthcoming.”
“They never are,” Natasha nodded, she narrowed her eyes in a thoughtful
expression, “so our plan is to save any pups or newborns that may be in the
facility.”
“Twofold, really,” Steve added, “we send in someone to save the prisoners but
the main team will be trying to destroy the entire facility. Johnny, your
energy can be turned to fire? Can you burn down the place?”
“Tunnels built to survive collapse of building,” Bucky said softly.
“So, we need to get prisoners out and check the tunnels, as well, before we
strike?” Clint asked.
“I can burn the place, but the fledgling’s right. I need a way to know the
place is cleared of our side before I do it.” The blond who looked so much like
a leaner version of Steve stroked his little sister’s hair and fed her a bit of
ultraviolet through the touch.
“How big is the facility? Exactly?” Sam asked.
“It was used to store India ink for awhile, so it’s not that large. Three big
rooms with a mess of smaller rooms and corridors between,” Steve answered from
memory.
“So, we need four people posted at entrances, one or two people in charge of
rescuing any prisoners, and the rest focusing on destroying the building,” Sam
stated.
Sighing, Steve regretfully said, “that means we’ll need the fledglings to help,
too. There’s only thirteen of us.”
Riley sat forward. “So, as matures, we have myself and Sam, Natasha and
T’Challa, Darcy and Wade, and Steve and Johnny? That gives us eight of the six
we need for special missions. I say let the more stable fledglings watch the
doors with a flier overseeing everything. Johnny would be best since he can use
his energy long range. The rest of use are either rescue or strike. Put Steve
on strike, since if we do have a rescue, he can’t be allowed to share his
energy. Bucky needs it too much and will need an intense feeding once we
return.” The stocky blond turned to his own mate. “Does that sound correct?”
Sam nodded his agreement, “Steve leads the strike team,” looking over at
T’Challa, “would you be able to lead the rescue?”
T’Challa nodded. “Or your Riley could,” he offered.
Looking to Riley, Sam asked, “would you be up for sharing your energy?”
“Out of everyone present? I may have the most to spare,” Riley chuckled softly,
his elusive smile coming and going. “Give me Darcy as a partner and we’ll care
for anyone that we find.”
“I can accompany you with the rescue,” Wanda offered, “in case any of the
victims need mental help?”
“That will leave us with five strike unless we switch Darcy there. Or do you
both want to be rescue and I can join strike?” Riley asked, looking directly at
Wanda.
“If you need me somewhere else, I can be wherever you need me,” Wanda said.
Steve sighed. “I prefer Wanda on rescue. Darcy, which team do you wish to be
on?” He stroked Bucky’s long hair away from the other side of his neck and
began kissing the brunet there, too.
Bucky keened softly, neck extending to his Alpha’s touch.
“I’ll go with rescue,” Darcy chose.
Glancing at the others, Steve said, “we’ll need to plan to leave as soon as
I’ve given him a full feeding. If you’ll excuse me?” Fumbling around beneath
Bucky to pull out and close his pants, Steve lifted his mate into his arms, his
waistcoat still draped over Bucky’s genitalia. The strong blond turned and
left, taking Bucky to their room so he could infuse his mate with life-seed
before the battle to come.
“Can help, Stevie?” Bucky murmured, eyes half shut.
‘Yeah,” Steve said. “Can you please stay here and watch over yourself and our
two pups?” He lay Bucky on the bed and tossed away the covering, not even
stripping his mate as Steve fumbled himself out and slid into his lover. “Can’t
leave Summer alone.”
“Want me to stay here?” Bucky asked.
With another sigh, hating to do it, but knowing Bucky’s stubborn streak. Bucky
would feel up to fighting after their intense feeding, but Steve wanted the man
to conserve his strength. So, he did what he rarely ever did to Bucky. “Yes,
Omega. Stay here and tend yourself and the pups. Hide if you must, go for help
if you need to.” His tone was gentle for all it was a definite set of orders.
The weakened Omega furrowed his brows and looked up at Steve, however he simply
said, “yes, Alpha.”
“My good, strong, smart Omega,” Steve crooned in praise, kissing and thrusting,
his strokes harder, deeper, and faster as he let his lust join into the feeding
process.
Panting, Bucky’s shaky hand reached up to caress Steve’s side; the brunet tried
to lift his hips to meet his Alpha’s thrusts but couldn’t quite match the
rhythm.
“Bucky, baby,” Steve crooned. “I can stay back and tend you if you wish?”
Bucky shook his head, “no . . . save newborns an’ pups. ‘M fine . . .”
“Try to avoid sunlight if at all possible. Summer can stand a little less
feeding if she must. We won’t be long, but if the house is attacked, you can
fight back, hide, or run. The tomb is locked so you can take Summer down
there.” There were so many things Steve wanted to instruct Bucky on, to keep
Bucky and Summer safe. He felt he couldn’t say them all, though, not and keep
his breathes for the harder thrusts he dragged repeatedly across Bucky’s
prostate.
“I’ll keep ‘em safe, Alpha. ‘M a good Omega,” Bucky keened and panted.
“You are the perfect Omega, my Bucky,” Steve confirmed. He felt his knot
finally enlarge, locking them tight as Steve released a thick load of life-seed
into his weakened mate. He pushed energy with it, knowing he weakened himself
but feeling rejuvenated anyway. He always felt better after feeding Bucky. The
Alpha reached around and stroked Bucky’s member repeatedly, trying to bring his
mate to cum, so their energy could combine and make the brunet stronger. “Cum
for me, please, baby,” he crooned.
As if waiting for his Alpha’s permission, Bucky let out a small, weak cry and
came. His body trembling with release, sweat slicked his skin and his chest
heaved with deep breaths.
Without waiting for his knot to lessen so he could get cloths to wash them,
Steve began scooping up Bucky’s seed and fed himself and Bucky the life-giving
concoction. It was an emergency remedy in the old books, something that could
be done for a vampyre too weak to stand or tend itself. The life-seed, even its
own, would nourish. The remedy was far from ideal, but Steve had to try
whatever he could. “Good boy, Bucky, my love. My strong, precious Omega,” he
crooned as he caressed and made small, mini-thrusts inside the hot passage of
his mate.
“Alpha . . .” Bucky breathed, his hand clutching at Steve’s hair. The brunet
twisted his head away from Steve’s fingers, coherent enough to realize what the
blond was trying to feed him.
“Bucky, let me feed you,” Steve barked suddenly, wanting his mate to meet his
eyes so the brunet would understand. “You are starving to death, Buck. This
will nourish you until I come back. We’re going to have to stay joined for
hours at a time to keep you and our pup alive. I don’t know why it’s feeding so
much on your energy, but this is all I can think of until Stephen arrives.”
Desperation threaded Steve’s commanding tone.
The Omega whined pitifully but listened to the direct order, he opened his
mouth slightly to allow Steve to feed him.
After an hour locked in with his mate, tending him with every old remedy he
could think of, Steve finally left, washed and dressed for battle. He wore
loose, but not flowing, trousers of a dark grey with a dark grey shirt with
pearl buttons. His waistcoat was also pearl grey and he wore a black overcoat
covering the entire ensemble. Without a word, he nodded to Johnny who slipped
into the room to lay the sleeping Summer next to her dam. Johnny followed his
host from the room, never saying a word at the debauched look of the brunet
laying in the bed.
Once down the steps, Steve met the eyes of his allies. “Are we ready? I’ve got
him sleeping, but he will weaken quickly. I want this strike done fast and
sure, and thorough. Safely. If we have to pull out, we do it.”
Sam nodded once, a hard, firm look in his maroon-lined brown eyes.
Riley smoothed his own coat over his two month pup-bump. His eyes glowed with a
maroon fire as he pulled his energy around him, ready to take wing if needed.
Clint settled his quiver and bow in place and looked to the others. “Ready,
Sire,” he told Natasha. Clint was the fledgling that would be guarding the main
exit, the one most escapees would try to use. Peter had been assigned the
prison wing and Becca the tunnels, leaving Pietro to cover the wide expanse of
warehouse door.
“Fledglings to me,” Johnny said sternly, though he wouldn’t be able to compel
the lot. “You follow my orders unless your own sire contradicts me. Is that
understood?”
Clint looked to Natasha then Johnny. “Yes, sir,” he barked out, displaying a
trait from his old life many hadn’t known: Clint had been a soldier.
Both Becca and Pietro nodded their understanding.
Peter nodded and walked over to Johnny, but his eyes fell back on Wade for
confirmation that he was doing things right. The fledgling might be smart, but
his self-confidence ebbed and flowed like a tide.
Wade gave his mate a smile and nod, then the vampire looked to Steve, “Are we
ready to kick some Hydra ass?”
“Yes. Let’s go kick Hydra’s ass.” Steve nodded and whirled around, heading out
the door at a reasonable pace for the less athletically gifted members of his
eclectic house. Soon, he and his team broke away from Johnny’s guard team, but
they stayed within sight of one another until they could arrive and position
themselves. The rescue team was a bit behind the others, but also in sight. As
untrained as the small unit was, the group appeared to be a well-honed machine.
Only time would show the kinks in the armor.
Within a short time, the thirteen people arrived at the Hydra facility Becca
had been rescued from not too long before. Without a word, Steve looked to Sam
and gave the short whistle the Wilsons used to signal they were to split up.
Riley immediately obeyed the command without questioning just how much of
Wilson clan secrets Steve had picked up over his years of friendship with the
other vampyre.
Sam watched as his mate, Wanda and Darcy separated, the darkness swallowing up
their retreating figures. Looking to Steve, the dark-skinned man nodded once.
Nodding, Steve gestured towards the tunnel entrance Bucky had mentioned,
signaling they would enter that way. Johnny nodded, finally understanding
something that passed between the two older Alphas, and touched Becca’s arm. He
leaned so close his breath tickled her ear. “Go with them. Stand guard.”
Becca, eyes flashing with bright green, nodded and slipped away to follow
Steve’s team through the maze of dark, damp tunnels. Without Bucky’s
instructions the team would have easily gotten lost in the multiple corridors.
As the strike team took off, Clint nodded towards Johnny without a sound. He
took off on silent feet to his own station, overlooking the main entrance but
hidden in the landscape. Peter swallowed but Johnny grabbed his arm, not
letting the nervous half-breed out of his sight. The blond turned to Pietro,
relying on the fact that the vampyre had once been a hunter in training, and
signaled him to his station at the warehouse. Once the silver-haired Beta left,
Johnny took Peter to the prison entrance, catching up to Riley’s team as the
threesome studied the area silently. At the arrival of their guard, and the
overseer, Johnny, Riley signaled his team inside.
Slipping in through the door, Wanda’s eyes took in the same horrible sight that
Steve and Bucky had seen more than two months ago. She looked at Riley with
concerned eyes as the fresh scent of decay and pain hit her. “No wonder Dam
Rogers . . .”
“Was so mentally affected?” Riley supplied quietly.
Nodding, Wanda’s eyes moved back to the large room lined with cages.
Darcy stopped by them and whispered carefully, her Romanov skills aiding her,
“I hear voices around that corner. And crying.”
Wanda’s eyes glowed and her bright red energy sparkled around her fingertips.
Riley nodded. “This team can act independently of one another. Just keep in
contact. Go do what you must.” And Riley took to the fetid air to scan from
above, a wider view than was possible among the maze of prisons. Without sound,
Snap followed her companion.
Nodding, Darcy’s eyes fired up a vivid green and, for the first time, it was
quite obvious she was Romanov clan, despite being a weaker Beta. She slipped
into the shadows like a cat, soundless and stealthy.
By listening with her mind, Wanda could hear the sob of someone, muffled and
pleading softly to die, to live, just to stop the pain, the fire. Another voice
swore and threatened weakly, sounding like Bucky in a mood but weak as a
kitten, though the voice was not as deep or raspy as Bucky’s. A third voice,
feminine and cold, merely barked out softly “shut the hell up, monster.”
Rounding the corner, Wanda snarled at the sight of three figures in body armor
and blood and energy spattered aprons stood around a huddle of moaning,
pleading flesh on the floor. Next to them, but too far to touch, lay a man,
nude and covered in a faint dark grey energy, lay strapped to a bed, his neck
in a vise. He was certainly a vampyre and by the faded color of his energy, he
was too weak to use any of his powers, but Wanda knew that face anywhere: it
was in missing person messages being channeled all over their community. That
was Scott Pym, one of the most clever, if most obnoxious, members of the Pym
Clan, the size-changers.
Again the large flesh creature moaned, his body crimson with blood and other
matter. The only female in the group kicked him hard. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll
ram something into every hole you’ve got till I find the one that quiets you!”
A surge of powerful, bright red energy knocked the three Hydra guards off their
feet, slamming them against the wall with a thud. The satisfying crunch echoing
back signified at least one neck had snapped, killing a man instantly.
The vampyre on the table gave a grin. “Hey, nice shot, beautiful,” he called in
a weak croak. His energy seeped from multiple wounds with each breath.
“Darcy! Riley!” Wanda called, she knelt down to the weakening figure on the
floor.
The Romanov brunet hurried from the shadows, where she held something in her
bloody hand; it looked like a spleen. “I’ll get Pym, you take . . . oh, god, is
that a half-convert? Shit!”
Wanda reached out and touched the man on the floor, bright red sparks flowed
from her hand and into the being.
With a moan, the six foot four inch strawberry blond opened intense blue eyes,
meeting Wanda’s. He was fading fast from his blood loss and his unfinished
conversion, as well as something that had been injected into him by his
tormentors. Darcy left Pym strapped to the table and bolted out to get Riley
instead.
“Hello,” Wanda said softly, already stripping off her red leather coat, “I am
Wanda, can you tell me your name?”
“Hello,” the man groaned obediently, too far gone to tell friend from foe and
apparently used to being tormented so much that he would talk if he must . . .
if they would just stop the fire inside. “My name is Jonas.” He blinked up at
her, “please, stop the fire? I won’t talk of what I’ve seen here . . . I’ll go
back to London and stay mum.”
“I will soothe your burning, if you accept me, I will soothe it,” Wanda
answered in a calm voice, she slipped off her black dress and began to slide
her underwear down her slim legs.
“Yes, please. Thank you, m’lady,” he gasped, eyes opening then closing in pain
as his body began the spasming that indicated near death.
Quickly, Wanda straddled the dying man’s hips and lowered herself, seeping her
energy into the half converted man.
His body reacted predictably to the female vampyre, something in human men
always did, and he began to fill and become erect. On a low moan, the man
opened his eyes, but he didn’t stop her.
The faint sound of two people returning came to the pair, but neither
interrupted Wanda’s efforts. Rather, Riley headed to Scott Pym and checked him
over. Riley found the clasp on the metal collar and un-lynched it, allowing
Darcy to reach around him and start feeding Scott energy. After only moments,
Darcy began to strip as well, though she wouldn’t need to convert the already
older vampyr, he was in desperate need of life-feeding.
Wanda continued her steady pace, lowering and lifting her hips. “C’mon, Jonas.
You’re doing so well, you’re doing so good.”
Once more focusing on the woman making love to him, the man lifted weakened
hands and encircled her narrow waist, beginning to thrust up into her, his
rhythm stuttering but his strength returning slowly. He didn’t question why his
tormentors now wanted to kill him with pleasure, but he accepted that if he had
to die, this was hardly last on his list of ways to do so.
Protectively, Riley turned to guard the only entrance to the small lab, moving
to block the door. He commanded Snap with a series of whistles to relay to Sam,
informing him there were two they had found. Since Snap couldn’t relay victim
or enemy, Riley would leave it up to his mate to determine what he meant.
Instead of giving Snap any further message, leaving it cut off with that, Riley
set his falcon from the room in search of the Wilson leader.
Jonas felt his orgasm building and, politely, groaned out, “m’lady, I am near
release . . .”
“That’s it, my vision, that’s it,” Wanda cooed, circling her hips down and
pushing him deeper as she tumbled over the edge of her orgasm.
The man cried out as his entire body felt like it spasmed as he came, the fire
shooting through every vein and out of his member. He felt something flowing
back into him, through the same exit, filling him with a gentle, glowing
scarlet light, a soothing fire this time. Groaning, the newborn vampyre buried
his face in his sire’s neck.
Wanda kissed her newborn’s temple, sending another surge of energy into the man
below her. She still ground her hips down against Jonas’ pelvis, knowing the
second wave of need would hit him in just a few moments.
Focusing on the woman in his hands, which were still locked around her tiny
waist, the tall man offered a sweet smile. “You are a vision, yourself,
m’lady,” he whispered. HIs second hunger hit, so quickly it was evident he’d
been almost converted when something had stopped the process, and Jonas began
thrusting up to meet her, strong enough now to match her stroke for stroke.
Softly, he met her lips, bending up slightly so he could reach her, and
breathed, “my lovely Wanda . . .”
Smiling, Wanda kissed Jonas’ neck, letting her fangs drag against his oddly
colored skin as she continued her small, controlled hip movements.
It was very shortly when Jonas came again, giving and receiving, his energy
melding with his new sire, healing him and filling him with new life, even
brighter than the second life she had already provided. Wonder shone from his
blue eyes as his blood-soaked skin seem to cool into a vampyre’s normal healthy
temperature. With a hint of surprise in his voice, the man once known at Jonas
looked up at Wanda. “What have you done for me?” he asked, breathless.
“You are reborn, my vision,” Wanda answered, “you have been given a new life, a
stronger, freer life.”
“And do I get to spend this life by your side, my Wanda?” he asked softly.
Laughing sweetly, Wanda tucked her long auburn hair behind her ears, “if you
wish, Jonas.”
Stealing a gentle kiss, Jonas practically purred, “I prefer to be your vision,
my beautiful one.”
“Vision,” Wanda nodded, “my Vision.”
After a few moments, Wanda slipped off her newborn and quickly pulled on her
clothes.
Riley knelt by the pair and pulled off his own coat to drape over the much
taller man’s shoulders. “Wanda, check ahead so we can get these two out of
here. I saw no other prisoners in this section on my flight.”
Nodding, Wanda opened her consciousness to check the room for anymore life, her
eyes burning a bright red, “there is no one else,” she reported.
“Good. Darcy can he be moved yet?” Riley looked over at the brunet trying
desperately to keep the other vampyre alive.
Darcy called out, “he can’t move on his own, Riley. And he’s a bit bigger than
any of us.”
Vision stood without word and gently scooped up Scott, turning to look at
Wanda. “Where shall I bring him, m’lady?”
“Wow, that works, too,” Darcy breathed with a smile of admiration for the tall,
strong newborn.
“Let us go,” Wanda smiled at her Vision and turned to leave the room slightly
ahead of the others.
Riley once more took to the air, checking from the above angle so Wanda could
concentrate on protecting rather than scouting. He signaled Johnny with a
whistling chirrup, untranslatable to the Storm member but recognized as a sign
from an ally nonetheless. Johnny allowed them passage, having Peter stand back
at the group came out. Landing from his own flight, Johnny stepped over to the
foursome and placed a hand on the weakened size-changer. He let a strong surge
of regular energy pass into the Alpha’s chest, causing Scott to gasp, eyes
flying open, then the blond stepped back. “Get them back to the house. I’ll
keep an eye out here. Darcy, can you stay?”
“Yeah,” she panted with a grin. “I think Wanda can take care of those two.”
“Good, Wanda, take Peter. He’s getting whiny from need.” Johnny glanced over
the woman.
“Come, Vision . . . Peter,” Wanda called.
The brown-eyed half-vampire flushed and followed obediently behind the much
larger newborn, still carrying the wounded Alpha in his arms. As the group
disappeared, Darcy and Riley headed for the tunnels, to go up and meet their
strike team from the other side, clearing what they could in advance.
Inside the main room, Steve flung Natasha into the air at a pair of Hydra
agents on a catwalk. As Sam was already engaged on a balcony, there had been no
one else to send. T’Challa moved as if in a deadly dance, circling, flipping,
and almost toying with three agents on his own, lashing out with metallic claws
sewn into his combat outfit while he used his vampyre powers to keep gracefully
ahead of the others.
Natasha gracefully landed on top of the agents, hands gripping the back of
their necks and slamming their bodies on the metal catwalk, snapping their
necks with the force of the hit. She rolled to the side as another agent
advanced towards her, launching herself onto the man’s back, she grabbed his
head and forcibly twisted his neck until it snapped.
Steve whirled around, slamming his foot down on a piece of discarded metal that
had been lying in the trash heap nearby, Though awkwardly shaped, the vampyre
lifted it in instinctive defense as an agent shot off a lead ball from his
revolver. The ball embedded in the makeshift shield. Steve ran at full speed
towards his attacker who tried desperately to reload.
Sam jumped in the air and kicked an agent off the balcony, grabbing the other
by the front of his uniform. The vampyre pushed the human off the edge, letting
the man fall to the concrete floor far below, the screams of the falling man
ending in a sickening, bone-crunching thud.
Wade laughed manically as he tore into an agent’s flesh, ripping out the
throat. He turned his bloodied snarl to another stunned agent; pouncing on the
man, Wade sunk his fangs into his neck and sucked needily at the blood leaking
from the wound.
“My god!” One of the many agents screamed, “they’ve brought a real vampire with
them!” The man turned, along with three other agents, and headed down the hall
towards the main door. They’re screams and footsteps ended abruptly in silence.
From the tunnel exit, Riley swooped out, in the air, graceful and obviously
uninjured. He landed with a practiced squat on the edge of the balcony and
smiled at his mate. “Miss me?” he asked before the smile disappeared and he
scanned the chaos below.
Darcy slipping from the shadows to thrust both hands into someone’s kidneys,
her long, well-cared for fingernails as sharp as knives.
“You get any victims?” Sam asked, stepping up alongside his mate.
Worry suddenly crossed Riley’s face. “You get Snap’s message?” he shot back,
eyes scanning for his falcon.
“No,” Sam breathed and whistled out for Redwing, communicating for his
companion to search for Snap.
Riley shuddered once then seemed to pull himself back together. “Two victims,
three attackers. One attacker has a broken neck, courtesy of Wanda. The other
two are alive but unconscious. Johnny guards the exit now. Wanda took Peter
home because he is getting needy, and Scott Pym, one of our rescues. The other
is a newborn of Wanda’s now. He was covered with blood as if he’d been painted
in the stuff and I believe his skin may be stained the color.”
Redwing cooed, signaling that he’d found Snap. She was hurt; a bullet had
grazed her wing, downing her.
Riley winced when he was given the message by Sam. “That will be hard to heal,”
he whispered then launched himself in a dive so fast it made Steve look slow on
the run. The blonde flier grabbed an agent with a revolver and, wrapping strong
hands around the human’s neck, lifted him in the air. “Doesn't it feel good to
fly?” He growled before flinging the man forcefully among the scattered debris,
impaling him. The angered vampyre continued to attack any human with a gun,
including the one trying to shoot at Steve.
Steve had taken to running and even flipping among the mass of humans, knocking
them with the odd-shaped metal he held in one hand, his body arching and
flexing as he worked through the crowd inevitably winding up in front of Wade.
Blinking, the large blond looked around and said, tone bewildered, “is that the
lot?” He looked over to Sam. “See any others?”
“All clear!” Sam answered back, swooping down to land in front of Steve,
“Johnny sent Wanda, Peter and two victims back to the house.”
Softly, the shorter blond vampyre landed beside his wounded companion and began
to tend her, cooing soothingly.
Steve nodded. “Any other injuries? Natasha, get your Beta under control!” He
didn’t so much as shout as speak forcefully; Darcy rooted through crates and
stuff, flinging things and breaking them.
Natasha hurried over to her Beta, “Darcy! Back down.”
“Can you smell it? Romanov?” Darcy asked, excitement in her voice. “A Pup! I
smell a pup! Must be newly whelped. I smell lots of energy and blood, too . .
.” But the woman did back down at her leader’s command.
“A pup?” Natasha asked, sniffing the air.
The tang of metallic blood and energy mixed with the scent of flesh, new,
unmolested flesh, hung faintly around the cargo boxes . . . around more than
one cargo box, even the empty ones with old brownish-rust colored stains and
multi-colored energy patterns.
“Find it,” Natasha nodded towards the Beta and helped her begin looking,
“Steve! There is a pup!”
Obediently, the Beta once more began checking boxes and flinging the empty ones
aside. Steve jumped forward, ducking a broken wooden container thrown in his
direction. “Calm down, Darcy! Nat have her go slow. She’s liable to hurt
someone, even the pup, with those movements!” He looked over the others, “those
who can, check for the pup. We leave no one behind when we have Johnny blow
this place up.”
“Slow down, Darcy,” Natasha cooed, “we’ll find it.”
Whimpering at the restriction, but obeying her leader like she might obey no
other, Darcy indeed slowed down, her movements less hectic and dangerous.
T’Challa began looking through, as well, a fierce frown deepening as he went.
“These boxes all smell of pups and blood. Why? What would the humans be doing
with pups in boxes? And there must be more than vampyre pups if the blood is an
indicator. Human infants? Vampire victims?”
Riley lifted his head, one hand going protectively over his own pre-pup, the
other still on Snap. “Are they shipping them? There’s no way a pup would
survive.”
Steve’s stomach turned with nausea. “Maybe they didn’t care if it lived. They
must have a purpose for dead pups of any species.” He shook his head and
stepped over to help search, but he feared that Darcy was only scenting the
containers and not a viable pup.
When the pile was exhausted, Darcy sat with a small thump, eyes wide and
staring. “Nothing? But . . . I could smell it!”
Natasha sighed and looked at Steve, her emerald eyes staring at the clan
leader.
Opening his mouth, the blond snapped it shut when T’Challa emerged from his
part of the search, a small bundle covered in coagulated and dried blood and
numerous colored energy stains, clutched in his careful hands. “A full term
whelp,” he said in his somber, musical voice. “And it’s breathing.” The vampyre
opened his shirt to cuddle the pup close, looking to Natasha.
“We need to leave, it’s been close to three hours,” Natasha said, looking
directly at Steve.
“T’Challa, get Becca from the tunnels and head back to the house. Darcy collect
Pietro at the warehouse and go back the the house.” He sighed. “Sam, Riley, if
you can move Snap, fly home as soon as you’re able.
Doing as instructed, Darcy and T’challa, still carrying his bundle close, left
in a hurry. Riley carefully crafted a sling for his companion out of his shirt
and nodded. “Let us fly, Alpha, please . . .” he sounded upset.
Nodding firmly, Sam looked at Steve once, “hurry home, Steve.” The dark-skinned
man burst into the air.
After the majority of the others had cleared out, Steve turned to Wade. “Peter
was brought home because he was getting needy. Use whatever safe methods you
need to get to him quick and tend him.” The leader turned to the read-haired
Alpha still left. “Let’s get Clint and tell Johnny to raze this place to the
ground.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Wade nodded and sped away in a flash of red.
Natasha stepped beside Steve, “if you need to get home, I can fetch Clint and
tell Johnny.”
Glancing at the woman, Steve nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Natasha. You are a
true friend.” The blond ran off without further comment, heading for the
warehouse entrance as being closest.
Down the hall at the main entrance, Clint merely stood watch, arrow knocked,
four dead Hydra agents collapsed neatly in a row in front of him.
“Come, my darling, you did such a good job,” Natasha commented as she strode
out of the warehouse.
He smiled at her. “Thank you, lovely Alpha. I was bored.” He followed
faithfully at her heels.
Johnny watched from the roof as his team exited in various directions, counting
the people. Once he saw Natasha and Clint, he said, “twelve and thirteen. All
accounted for.” The blond didn’t wait to hear Natasha’s order, taking to the
air in a blaze of blue fire, collecting his energy in his hands.
Clint looked up. “Huh . . . pretty neat.” He glanced at his Alpha. “Wanna
race?”
“First one home tops,” Natasha smirked.
“You got it,” he crowed and was off like a flash.
***** Of Healing and Hope *****
When Steve entered the mansion, he could instantly smell his Omega’s needy,
weakened scent. Soft, pained moaning could be heard from behind the door of
their room.
Instantly, Steve opened the door and took the pup from Bucky. He walked out and
handed her off to the first person to pass, Becca, and turned back into the
room.
Bucky lay on the bed, writhing and his skin clammy with sweat. The burning in
his veins made him whimper and keen in a mixture of pain and need. His brown
hair clung to his face.
Sighing, Steve stripped down and let all his clothes fall to the floor,
shucking his boots quickly, thankful he didn’t wear those form-fitting things
that were so popular recently. He went to the washroom to slick himself up then
returned to the bed. Crawling into the bed, he stripped the rest of Bucky’s
clothes off, exposing him completely. Turning his lover over to his front,
Steve slid into Bucky with no ceremony, sliding deep and biting down on the
mate mark in an effort to break past the exhaustion to stimulate the brunet.
“I’m back, Bucky, I’m here. You did so good.” The Alpha’s words were muffled
against Bucky’s flesh.
Bucky cried, “Alpha . . . hurts . . . please . . .” the Omega’s voice broke off
in a sob.
“There is one other way to feed you quick, my love, if this is not enough.”
Steve had never done the alternative method, always feeling it sounded just a
bit too unbelievable. How could that help quicker than an internal feed to the
womb? Just as quickly as he questioned it, Steve realized the answer. Because
it would go straight to the belly, not the womb. The pup wouldn’t get any of
it.
“Hurts . . . make it . . . stop,” Bucky gasped between sobs, his body trembling
violently.
Pulling from his lover, Steve hurriedly wiped himself clean with a moist cloth
then turned Bucky over once more, sitting him up against the sturdy headboard
and several pillows. “Bucky, open your mouth wide,” he instructed gently,
stroking himself to keep his hardness.
Doing as his Alpha ordered, Bucky opened his mouth as wide as he could, looking
up at his mate with wide, tear-washed eyes.
“Close your eyes, my love, and let me feed you.” Steve shuffled forward on his
knees, erection firmly in hand. He waited for those beautiful pale eyes to
close before placing his member at Bucky’s lips, pushing in before the other
man could reject him. “Ease it inside your mouth, Bucky . . .” he cooed.
Bucky gagged, choking on the large member, saliva spilling from the corners of
his mouth.
Frowning, Steve pulled back, trying to recall what he’d learned in those
obscure texts he’d read in the safehouse so long ago, memories warring together
with an eerie feeling of having done this before. Shaking off the impossible
feeling, Steve held himself still and told Bucky, “okay, nevermind, don’t choke
yourself. Take just the head in and suck, baby, please. You can open your eyes
if you want.” Steve tried to recall all the orders he’d given except the one
where he ordered Bucky to do this to begin with. He needed to feed his mate,
and Bucky had a healthy dose of prejudice left over from his past-life. It
wasn’t easy to get him to try things humans felt were sins or taboo. Rather,
Steve waited.
Opening his eyes, Bucky listened to his mate’s command and took in the tip of
Steve’s member, swirling his tongue around the head.
Running a hand through Bucky’s dark hair, Steve praised, “good boy, oh god! I .
. .” he’d never felt this before and it stunned him how good it felt. “I want
to cum so I can feed you directly. It’ll go where you need it most, baby, my
brave, good Omega . . .”
Looking up at Steve’s face, he continued to suck and flick his tongue over the
Alpha’s slit, the Omega seemed to either not care or not understand that Steve
was compelling him.
Groaning, Steve forced his hips to stay still, holding his thick erection in
one hand so Bucky could work it. The brunet’s mouth felt so damn good, in its
own way as good as Bucky’s other passage. “That’s right, Baby. You’re doing so
good.” The strange new sensations, the almost taboo idea, swirled around to
push him closer and Steve used his free hand to start stroking himself,
fondling his heavy sac.
Pushing his mouth further down Steve’s length, slowly taking more of the
massive tool; Bucky gagged again but quickly pushed the instinct down. He
swirled his tongue around the member and hollowed his cheeks.
“Shit! Bucky, have you done this before?” The man’s actions seemed too well
practiced for this to be Bucky’s first time taking a man into his mouth. Steve
groaned and moved his hand up to stroke Bucky’s hair, tangling his fingers in
the nut-brown tresses. His other hand he kept by as a spare for Bucky’s use,
whether to steady the blond’s member or to help stroke it. Steve felt that
familiar low tightening, that surge of heaviness. “Buck, I’m gonna cum, baby. I
need you to swallow it all. Every drop.”
Bucky hummed his acknowledgment of the order.
The humming drove Steve over the edge and he moaned long and low, hand tugging
at Bucky’s hair as the larger vampyre shot load after thick hot load down
Bucky’s throat, ass clenching instinctively as Steve fought to stay still, a
task he found almost impossible.
Swallowing the entire load, just as Steve had told him to, Bucky lapped at the
head, cleaning any traces of the life-seed his body desperately needed.
As the last bit of semen was cleansed away by his mate’s loving tongue, Steve
let his head fall forward. He brought both hands to Bucky’s face and tugged him
up for a kiss. “My good, loving Omega. I release you from all orders.” He hoped
the other man wouldn’t hate him long for what he’d been forced to endure. Steve
let his energy flow into Bucky’s skin, feeding the pup now that Bucky’d had the
lion’s share.
Falling back on the bed, Bucky licked his lips and looked considerably better
already, his body already absorbing the nourishment. His brunet locks were
plastered to his face and his chest heaved.
Softly, Steve spoke. “I can look in the texts, ask Riley, for other ways, Buck
. . .” He was torn between knowing that what they’d done was taboo for Bucky
but the total enjoyment under the expert-seeming ministrations the man had
tendered.
Looking up at Steve, Bucky shook his head slowly, “it’s - - it’s fine, Steve.”
The Omega pushed his sweaty hair off of his face, making some of the locks
stick up wildly.
Flushing lightly, Steve looked to Bucky. “It was the only thing left I could
think of. A direct feeling that skips the pup completely. I know it’s as taboo
for humans as what we always do . . .”
“Not as taboo as you think . . .” Bucky murmured softly, pale eyes staring at
the ceiling.
Blinking, Steve moved to lean on one arm, other hand still stroking Bucky’s
abdomen. “You . . .” He licked his full lips. “But you protested earlier when I
fed you . . .”
“That’s because cold cum is disgusting,” Bucky scrunched his nose and shook his
head.
“And,” Steve swallowed, infusing more energy to the pup so it wouldn’t fight
for Bucky’s belly-load, “this way is okay?”
“Been doing it for a while, Steve,” Bucky didn’t move his eyes away from the
ceiling.
“You have?” The larger blond sounded as stunned as he looked. “I . . . I’ve
never tried it before. It’s not taboo in our culture, just . . . considered
old-fashioned and unnecessary. And public feedings are easier when you can at
least provide a modicum of cover. More comfortable all around, less erotic.”
Bucky snorted softly and slowly sat up, turning his head to look at Steve from
over his shoulder, the brunet said, “the mission? It went okay?” He changed the
subject, not wanting to discuss further why he was so skilled at oral sex.
“Kind of,” Steve sighed and frowned, running his hand through his hair. “I
didn’t stay to see the end, so I’ll have to ask Natasha or Johnny, but all of
our side came out with only one injury. Peter got hungry and had to be brought
home early, too, but I figure Wade’s got him in hand now. Riley’s team rescued
two, but that’s all I know right now.” He looked to his mate. “And we took down
a horrible, horrible pup shipping group. Darcy and T’Challa found one alive,
but . . . I hate to think how many pups were shipped out for whatever their
evil ideas were.”
Bucky nodded and shakily slipped out of the bed to pad over to the wash
station. He felt grimy and disgusting.
“Want a full bath, love?” Steve offered, rising from the bed.
Humming softly, Bucky nodded and ran his fingers through his tangled, greasy
hair, wincing when the fingers caught on a rather stubborn knot. “I gotta cut
this shit off. It’s pissing me off,” the Omega grumbled.
“I can still tug it short, Buck,” Steve reminded his lover of the main reason
the brunet had refused to cut it in the first place. “And it’ll grow back if
you don’t like it short. You just have to want it to.” The big blond turned and
opened a door, leading into a neat clean tiled room with a large hip bath in
the center of the floor. Pipes ran to the tub from the wall, leading down to
the steam tunnels below, which Steve kept constantly running, though he never
explained how he’d managed that bit of wizardry. A small vanity sat to the side
with a jar of substance know only to Steve. “How hot do you want it, Omega?”
Steve asked softly, waiting for Bucky’s reaction to a room he’d never seen in
his time there. Well, the man had never really gone exploring, either, had he?
Looking around with a small look of awe, Bucky stepped further inside, “I . . .
uh - - I don’t know?”
Gently, Steve laughed and turned both taps on, letting running water flow in
without the same pump system as the washing station in most of the rooms.
Bucky caressed the pup-bump and looked at the tub, “I’ve never seen something
so . . .” he hadn’t taken a lot of full baths in his days, most the time just
thoroughly washing any dirt or grime off his body with a cloth and cold water.
“Well, Tony’s father, Howard Stark, put plumbing and steam pipes in some of the
rooms here before he found out the house is a vampyre house.” Steve smiled, but
it faded. “He was killed before he could finish. That was a human unafraid of
vampyres.” The blond took Bucky’s hand and led him to the tub. “Go ahead, test
it with your hand and tell me if it’s too hot, please,” Steve requested,
careful not to compel the brunet.
Leaning forward to dip his hand into the water, smiling softly, Bucky looked at
Steve, “it’s not too hot.”
Taking Bucky’s hand again, Steve said, “go ahead if you want. You can step in
and sit. There’s a pillow for your neck if you want to just soak. To let the
old water out, pull that plug there on the chain. To get more water, this lets
in cold and this hot.”
Stepping into the tub, Bucky sighed as the hot water relaxed his muscles,
looking up at Steve, the Omega asked, “can . . . can you cut it? My hair, I
mean?” The brunet flushed and ducked his head, “I mean . . . you probably have
more important things to do . . .”
Chuckling softly, Steve finally let Bucky’s hand go and moved to retrieve his
shaving and barbering supplies. “What on this earth could be more important
that taking care of my lovely Omega and making him happy enough to preen?” He
moved over and began to carefully trim Bucky’s hair, his artist’s eye and
clever, if large and clumsy looking, hands moving with surety. “Anything that
relates to business can either wait or I’ll be informed by someone who comes in
here. So, you have me, Bucky.” As he cut, Steve was careful to catch as much of
the hair as he could, laying it aside in a small heap. “When I’m done, we’ll
empty and clean the tub and then you can get back in and finish bathing or
lounging or whatever. Just wanna get rid of the grime and hair before you
lounge.” He kissed Bucky’s sweaty neck. “If you wanna do a washing while I do
this, I’ll be careful, Bucky.”
Bucky’s hands ran over the top of the water, seeming mesmerized by the
invention. He could feel Steve snipping away at his hair, making him feel
lighter with each lock that fell away. The Omega felt happier than he had in
years; he knew it was silly, but with each snip of the scissors he felt the
last of the ‘Winter Soldier’ being chipped away.
Once he sat back, Steve grinned widely. “You are breathtaking, my beautiful
Bucky,” he breathed, as if in prayer. The blond leaned forwards to seal their
mouths in a kiss, a promise of love and life. It was a long while before he
pulled back and helped Bucky to stand, quickly running the cloth over his
lover’s skin and rinsing him with a nearby bowl, the water running from the tub
from the unplugged drain. “Give me a moment to clean this thing and you can
lounge in it until next feeding time, Buck,” Steve said, dropping to his knees.
Walking over to the mirror that hung on the wall, Bucky looked at his
reflection, a bright golden ring surrounding his pale eyes. Any scars that he’d
gotten as his time as a hunter were gone, leaving his skin milky and smooth,
the left shoulder showed no sign of scarring, it almost looked like he’d simply
been born without the limb. His hair, shorter than it had been in years, cut
closer to the scalp on the sides than it was on top. The brunet ruffled the
hair through his fingers and smirked. “I’m Bucky, Steve . . .”
“You’re my Bucky, love. My beautiful, powerful, Omega. Dam to my pups and co-
leader of my house. Since I’m breaking house rules left and right, I think
that’s one that needs to be made: an Omega can help lead if it wants and is
capable.” Steve stood up, soaked and dirty. “All clean, love.”
“Sit with me?” Bucky asked with a smirk.
“Let me wash up first then I’ll sit with you,” Steve agreed. He quickly washed
off the grime and leftover hair bits, making sure that his body was actually
very clean, before he slid into the tub and grinned, holding up his erection
for Bucky, the tub empty but the room warm since Steve did not skimp on steam
heat. “Want some continual contact to keep up your strength while we cuddle,
baby?”
Nodding, Bucky stepped into the tub and carefully lowered himself onto Steve’s
member, a low keen as his mate’s tool slid across his prostate. His cheeks were
flushed from the hot steam and the water swirled around the two lovers as Steve
began to fill the ceramic tub once more.
Their solitude lasted for another hour before a knock on the door came from the
outer room, T’Challa’s voice calling, “I apologize for the intrusion, but the
Alphas wished to talk . . . and Riley, of course.”
Groaning softly Steve looked at his mate, kissing the back of his neck. “Mind
if we have them come in to talk, Buck?”
Too relaxed to mind, not wanting to leave the warmth of the bath, Bucky shook
his head and leaned against his Alpha’s sturdy frame.
“Good,” Steve kissed again and called out, “please come in, T’Challa. And when
you do, could you pull the lever by the door to the room we sit in? That will
collapse the wall so the room holds us all.” Truly, the house had many Howard
Stark additions Bucky had never dreamed of.
The dark-skinned Alpha did as instructed, letting the others follow him in.
Politely, since Steve was unable to, T’Challa draped a towel over the tub to
cover Bucky’s lap.
“Thank you, T’Challa,” Bucky smiled at the Alpha.
“Of course. One cannot help being ill and in need of attention, Dam Rogers. You
should still be given respect.” He bowed at the shoulders and turned to seek a
chair.
Johnny stood as far from the sight of his father and the Omega, out of
politeness and not really wanting to be tempted to ogle his own father’s mate.
He leaned against the open hall door, keeping an ear out for any of the ones
not in the meeting. He did hold Summer in his arms, feeding her with a gentle
hand on her belly.
Natasha strode through the room; she bowed respectfully at the pair and said,
“it is nice to see you are feeling better, Dam Rogers.”
“Thank you, Natasha,” Bucky muttered, body thrumming with contentment. He
seemed to have gotten over others seeing his nude form.
Riley trailed Sam and Wade in, a deep frown on his face, his eyes troubled. He
carried his injured falcon, continually feeling her, the shot wing splinted
carefully to aid healing. With a nod to Bucky, Riley murmured, “the shorter
hair makes you appear younger and more healthy. It suits you, Bucky.” The blond
man sank onto the edge of the mussed bed, uncaring what had been occurring
there not long before.
Bucky looked at Snap, a frown on his face, “is she okay?”
Riley nodded. “She will be, but she might not fly again. I am hoping I was able
to tend her soon enough. The Agent knew to shoot for the sail feathers.” He
glanced down at the falcon, nestled tamely next to his pup-bump. “The two we
rescued . . .” he glanced up at T’Challa then said, “three, are all healing.
Well, Vision, Wanda’s newborn, is healed and seems to be acting like a normal
newborn, though washing did not take the stain of blood from his skin. We fear
that Hydra did something to make it a permanent marking. Scott Pym will recover
in time, but Darcy is tending him and showing Pietro how to do so. I think she
plans on petitioning his membership to the safehouse once he’s mature.” Riley
finally looked back at Bucky. “And the pup is with Becca. She’s feeding him.
Apparently, he is weak from starving but we found him in time.”
T’Challa nodded. “We thought to report to you, Dam Rogers, out of respect, as
you were prevented from joining us. And to discuss what might be done better,
if we plan to do this again?”
Looking surprised, Bucky sat up slightly, “you wanted to report to me? I - - I
thought you were here to talk to Steve?”
Bowing once more to Bucky, T’Challa said, “unless the members, even guests, of
a house determine to leave, they take their cue from the leader. The leader of
this house shows you the respect of a leader, as well. Thus, we will do the
same unless informed not to.” The man had unwittingly just reiterated Steve’s
previous words. “An Alpha is the leader, that is by tradition, but there is no
law or tradition against an Omega leader, Dam Rogers.”
Bucky turned to look at his mate, his pale eyes searching the Alpha.
Steve looked proud, pure and simple. His guests chose to stay and show Bucky
respect rather than go back to their own clans. That meant they actually
respected Bucky; they didn’t just pay lip service. “You have received your
report, love,” Steve lifted Bucky’s hand to kiss it. “And do you have
questions?”
Clearing his throat, Johnny said, “When all of ours and the victims were out, I
blazed the place. It was a charred ruin, more ash than structure, being tended
by the humans when I left.
Looking to Johnny, Bucky noticed immediately that the lean man wasn’t looking
at him or meeting his eyes. The Omega flushed and wrapped his arm around
himself in an attempt to cover his skin.
Steve gently eased the arm back down and kissed his neck. “Bucky,” he
whispered, knowing exactly what had caused the shy behavior, “Johnny is a pup I
whelped. It is respect for you as a dam and my mate that he doesn’t watch
either of us, not because it is wrong for you to be undressed and feeding. I
know it is hard to get past your other life, but know that if you were in a
room of one hundred, none who are respectful would look at you with lust, and
none blood related, even Summer when she’s older, would stare at you.”
Johnny turned fully towards the pair, keeping his eyes down, and bowed at the
shoulders. “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Dam.” He left off the rest
of the title, almost as if he called Bucky mother, “and I am sorry to have done
so. I am only trying to be respectful. No parent wants their child, at any age,
staring when it is weak.” His words spoke volumes about how he had accepted the
odd pair as his other, non-clan, parents.
Steve kissed Bucky’s neck once again. “Besides, covering up your chest is a
waste. You’re a man, same as Johnny.”
Bucky flushed deeper, ducking his head, feeling foolish.
Riley stood and fetched a short robe then came back and draped it over Bucky’s
chest, guiding his arm into the material, though it was on him backwards.
“Shame on you, Steve Rogers. If Bucky wants to be dressed, it’s his right. Just
because he’s feeding and it’s acceptable doesn’t mean he has to be nude to do
so. Don’t forget, Bucky, even with your Alpha, you have a voice.”
Riley moved back into the other room and the bed, checking that his actions
hadn’t bothered the falcon which now lay on Bucky’s pillow. Steve flushed
warmly at the admonishment, kissing Bucky’s neck as he ducked his vivid blue
eyes.
The ex-hunter nodded and ran his fingers over the soft material. Clearing his
throat, Bucky looked back up at the group, “did you go into the office space?
There is always an office space. Where they keep specs and plans.”
“The office was where the victims were this time,” Riley said quietly, meeting
Bucky’s eyes. “I didn’t look for any papers or anything. Vision and Scott were
dying.”
“Of course, they took priority,” Bucky nodded once.
“They’d be gone now,” Johnny said, looking at the wall opposite the door,
despite Bucky being covered. He was still showing the respect of a younger
member of the immediate family. “If anyone survived, it didn’t run out, either.
I would have seen except in the tunnels, which Becca guarded.”
“For future hits, we’ll keep an eye out for the paperwork you want, okay Buck?”
Steve offered.
“Hydra documents everything, it’ll be a good habit of getting into,” Bucky
answered, looking at Steve, “plans of future attacks, past procedures and
training exercises. Everything.”
“Would they have a second copy? In the tunnels, perhaps?” T’Challa asked.
Furrowing his brows, Bucky looked thoughtful and then he slowly nodded, “yeah,
actually. In the center there should be a small room. They would keep second
copies of all the really important documents.”
“So, we need to go back a third time,” Steve sighed, burying his face in
Bucky’s back, the water moving around their abdomens.
“I can go with you, Steve,” Bucky said, “with that . . . new method . . . I
feel stronger.”
Nodding, not clarifying for the rest, and no one asked thankfully, Steve had to
agree. “I’ll want to make sure you get a couple more feedings before we leave.
Tomorrow night? Or is that too late? Will they risk going back in to get those
files before tomorrow?”
“They could, depending on what type of files they are,” Bucky answered, “you
said they were shipping pups? I bet they kept all shipping records. We will be
able to see who is buying vampyre pups.”
“That is what it appears, as well as human and possibly vampire pups,” T’Challa
agreed, frowning. He looked thoughtful. “And why the receiver does not care if
the pup is dead.”
“Would there also be a list, perhaps, of other Hydra facilities and their
functions?” Natasha asked; she leaned against the far wall.
“Maybe?” Bucky supplied, shrugging his shoulder, “it’s hard to say what they
deemed important enough to make second copies of and store in the safe room.”
Steve sighed. “With the fire raging above, I would hope the tunnels would be
too hot for humans to risk going in, but if you think they’ll try anyway,
Bucky, we should go tonight.” He stroked Bucky’s short curling hair, running
his beard against the back of the brunet’s neck as he kissed his pale skin.
Nodding in agreement, Bucky said, “yeah . . . one more feeding and I should be
okay to go.”
The blond nodded but made no move to feed his Omega or kick the others out. He
merely curled his arms protectively around his mate.
“Do you still wish for us to send for Stephen?” Sam questioned, looking at the
pair. Bucky seemed healthy, his skin had returned to its normal shade and the
dark circles had disappeared from under his eyes.
Looking down at his mate, Steve asked, “Buck? What do you think?”
“I think we figured out something that works, for now, at least,” Bucky stated.
Nodding, Steve turned to Sam. “I think we’ll hold off right now, unless the new
feedings stop working.”
“Then we shall leave you to feed one another so you may start your
investigation.” T’Challa rose to his feet. “And I will check on my new charge.”
Natasha bowed at the mates and then followed T’Challa out of the room.
Clint stood in the hall, waiting, silent, as the rest of the group filed out
past him. Finally, Clint smiled at the couple inside and shut their door then
turned to his own Alpha. “Is Bucky going to get better?”
“I believe so, my darling. As long as the new method Steve and he found
continues to work,” The redhead suspected that new method to be oral, so that
way the life-seed would go straight to Bucky and not the pup; but she didn’t
say anything else on the matter.
Shrugging, Clint said, “I didn’t think there was that many ways to have sex.”
He started walking down the hall.
“Oh, my darling,” Natasha cooed, “I am going to have so much fun with you.”
Quirking an eyebrow and throwing a mischievous grin at his sire, Clint said,
“fun? Are we going to play?”
“Yes,” Natasha answered with a smirk, stepping to her Omega’s side, she nipped
at his ear, “I do believe I won the race, yes?”
Laughing, Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha and lifted her, kissing her
soundly for a long moment before answering. “I am positive you did, Alpha. But
I wondered . . .”
“Wondered what, my darling?” Natasha asked softly.
“Can an Omega man get an Alpha woman pregnant?” He nipped very lightly with his
fangs, across the shoulder.
“Yes,” Natasha answered, “although it is rare. Rarer than a newborn getting
pregnant . . . however with the way things have been going lately . . .” the
Alpha shook her head and kissed Clint’s cheek.
“And,” sliding a kiss across Natasha cheek to her ear, Clint whispered, “would
my Alpha like me to ty to get her pregnant?”
Down the hall, Riley softly shut the door to his suite, still overly quiet
since his falcon had been injured. He lay the bird in the special cradle perch
he’d crafted, next to Redwing, looking worriedly into their nest.
“She’ll be okay, Riley,” Sam said softly.
“She has two eggs, did you know that? Here, tucked under the warmer . . .”
Riley’s voice sounded filled with wonder.
Smiling at the sight of the eggs, Sam kissed Riley’s cheek, “looks like it’s
just the right time for everyone to start a family, doesn’t it?”
Smiling, Riley hummed. That elusive smile didn’t flit away this time. Instead,
he turned more internal and serene as the blond man lay a hand over his
abdomen. “I never thought to have one . . .”
“You are going to be a great dam,” Sam murmured, peppering kisses along Riley’s
jaw line.
Turning his head to receive Sam’s kisses directly to his lips, Riley hummed
again. He reached back, wrapping one arm around Sam’s neck. “Who would have
thought it would take such times to lead us to one another, my Alpha,” Riley
purred.
“I am thankful everyday that fate led me to you,” Sam smiled at his Omega.
“I wish I could get pregnant all over again for you,” Riley chuckled softly,
nipping at Sam’s lips then turning so that they faced one another, his arm
still around his lover’s neck. “I want to always bear your pups.” Riley shifted
one of Sam’s hands over the pup-bump. “Three more months . . .”
After a long pause, filled with shared kisses, Riley finally pulled back a
little. “I’ve shocked you, haven't I?”
“No,” Sam smiled kissing his mate again, “no . . . my sweet Omega.”
“Others would think your Omega was too sweet,” Riley breathed into his mate’s
mouth, “for wanting to be non-stop with pup for you.”
“Others can go to hell,” Sam growled playfully, nipping at Riley’s bottom lip,
“I’ll give you as many pups as you want, Riley. We can start our own clan of
just our pups alone if we wanted.”
“I think we should allow our friends to join our clan with their pups, too,”
Riley chuckled softly, actually enjoying the teasing. He had been so withdrawn
and somber since the slaughter in Philadelphia. “But I want to be the only one
to present myself to you, my Alpha.”
“You are it for me, Riley. My Omega. The end to my beginning,” Sam breathed.
Letting out a low purring, Riley buried his face in Sam’s neck. “Then love me
right now, like the first time, my Sam.”
“Anything for you,” Sam smiled and kissed his Omega again.
Riley turned and moved to check their birds once more, just to be sure, then
nodded and walked towards the bathroom, stripping as he walked.
Not far from that room, Peter sat in the middle of a thick, white furred rug in
the center of the marble floor of the bedroom. He wore nothing, his pup-bump
swelling his lean abdomen, his wide eyes almost luminescent, as he watched the
door, waiting for his Alpha to return from the meeting. Wade had given him a
brief feeding when he’d first gotten home, but hadn’t actually talked much.
Either he was being quiet, which sometimes happened, or he was upset about
Peter getting so hungry and needy in the middle of their mission. The lean,
brown-eyed vampire half-breed flushed in embarrassment at the memory.
Opening the door, Wade looked at Peter and smiled widely, “whatcha doin’ on the
floor, baby boy?”
Peter shook his head and pushed to his knees. “Just sat down,” he said,
lowering his eyes. Carefully, he rose to his feet and walked over to his chair
instead, wondering why he’d thought Wade would like the sight of the dark-eyed,
dark-haired fledgeling lying against the white fur.
“I know it looked sexy as hell,” Wade mumbled to himself, clearly exasperated
by the voices in his head, “but he’s pregnant . . . White? Oh - - not you too!
You’re supposed to be on my side! I’m tryin’ to be a good Alpha.”
[[But we already knocked him up, so what’s the harm in plowing him some more.]]
“Irresponsible, Yellow, you should be ashamed of yourself,” Wade admonished,
shaking his head. “Baby boy is pregnant, we need to be careful with him.”
[[And horny as fuck. Just like us.]]
“Fuck you,” Wade grumbled, crossing his arms. “What did I do to deserve you
two?” After a few moments of silence, the vampire groaned and smacked his
forehead lightly, “what? That shuts you up?”
Peter curled into a ball and scooped up his book, his legs crossed in such a
way that his ass and crotch remained very exposed, and definitely looked very
aroused, slick even running lightly down his butt cheeks. The fledgling tried
to ignored the conversation Wade had with what he called his boxes, knowing it
was supposed to be private. But, it was quite obvious by Wade’s remarks that
Peter was not winning in the argument . . . instead, the dark-haired Omega felt
like a wanton slut that should have known better than to beg his Alpha to
pleasure him. Peter kept his face buried in his book, a bit too close to
actually read anything, even with his eyes . . . he needed spectacles to really
see writing well.
Walking over to squeeze one of Peter’s cheeks, Wade said softly, “you need a
feeding, baby boy?”
Looking up from the book, wide eyes centering on Wade’s blue, Peter swallowed.
“You fed me not long ago,” he whispered, a needy thread to his voice.
“Yeah, but do you need another?” Wade asked, running his fingers over Peter’s
slicked entrance, pushing against the ring of muscle before trailing down.
Whimpering, thrusting his hips so his ass chased Wade’s finger, Peter nodded.
“Yes, please?” he begged softly.
“I got you, Petey,” Wade promised and unbuckled his belt and pulled down his
zipper of his trousers.
As Peter whimpered in need and approval, he uncurled, reaching for his Alpha,
eyes never leaving those blue orbs set in the scarred face.
Shortly, the sounds of vampyre feedings, and healthy sex, came from up and down
the hall as Steve finished changing the sheets on their bed, still nude but now
dry. As the muscles worked over his ass and down his thighs, Steve said, “you
sure you’re feeling better, Buck? We can send T’Challa or Nat instead . . .”
“The maze of tunnels only gets harder the deeper you go,” Bucky answered,
stepping out of the wash room, his short brown hair curling slightly at the top
where it was a bit longer than the sides.
Glancing over, Steve smiled wide, eyes lighting. “You are beautiful, Buck!” He
loved Bucky no matter what he looked like, but that healthy glow and the
sparkle in his eyes had Steve appreciating the athletic ex-hunter anew.
Smirking wickedly, Bucky strode over to his Alpha and dropped to his knees, his
feather-like fingers tracing up Steve’s thighs. “You like me like this, Alpha?
On my knees, so ready for you?”
Looking down at the brunet, Steve’s erection filled instantly, rising and
actually striking his lover in the face. Steve flushed and chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Good,” Bucky rasped and licked a stripe from the base of Steve’s member to the
tip, where his tongue flicked against the tip. The Omega moved his hand to grip
the Alpha’s hip, fingers tightening slightly as he continued to lap at the
spongy head.
Gasping, Steve’s head fell back and his eyes closed. He reached down and
tangled one hand in Bucy’s soft curls, the sensation different from the long
tresses of an hour before. Enjoying the brush of the curls against his palm,
Steve was more concerned about the amazing sensation Bucky caused in a totally
different part of his anatomy.
Bucky pushed the large erection deeper into his mouth, sucking and lapping as
he did so. His fingers brushed along the blond’s pelvis and continued down
until he stroked Steve’s balls. Looking up from under his lashes, the brunet
took a deep breath from his nose and opened his throat to completely engulf the
length.
A low groan escaped from Steve’s throat and he tugged lightly on Bucky’s hair,
“so good, pretty Omega . . . you’re mouth is so hot . . .” He kept his hips
still, with difficulty, but that didn’t stop Steve from babbling, something
that he usually kept to praises for his lover. As the brunet engulf his member
down his throat, Steve let out a near-scream and his other hand gripped Bucky’s
shoulder almost painfully. “God, Buck!”
Bucky hummed and hollowed his cheeks more, fingers massaging the Alpha’s heavy
sac, in his mind he tried to push towards Steve that it was okay to move, but
the Omega didn’t know if the bond worked that way or not.
Opening his eyes at the soft voice in his mind, head coming up, Steve looked
down at Bucky, mouth hanging open from more than just the amazing sensations
around his staff. “Did you say something about moving, Bucky? I . . . . I
thought I heard you . . .?”
The voice in Steve’s mind responded, yes? I didn’t know if it’d work.
Looking down at the beautiful, decadent sight of his mate taking him into his
throat, Steve groaned. “If you’re talking in my head, blink twice, baby,” Steve
groaned.
Bucky’s eyelids immediately fell twice in quick succession.
Groaning, Steve let his hips thrust, still trying not to hurt or choke his
Omega, but falling naturally into a soft thrusting rhythm.
Come on, Alpha, you can do better than that, Bucky’s voice teased, the Omega
continued to suck, drool beginning to fall down his chin with the Alpha’s soft
thrusts.
“Don’t . . . wanna . . . hurt . . . ya,” he panted, still watching that lovely,
wanton sight. “‘fraid to choke ya . . .” he got out in one long groan before
his hips inadvertently snapped, thrusting harder and deeper. Steve stilled once
more. “Damn . . . sorry . . .”
Ain’t made of glass, Steve. C’mon, fuck my throat, I know you wanna, Bucky
chided, he took a deep breath through his nose and squeezed the Alpha’s heavy
sac again.
With a loud grunt, Steve finally let go, thrusting into Bucky’s hot mouth and
tugging his soft curls. “Damn, Omega . . . so good . . . so close . . . wanna
feed you . . . Wanna give you everything I’ve got, baby . . .”
The obscene sound of Bucky swallowing down the Alpha’s thrusts filled the room
as the brunet’s hand continued to stroke and massage Steve’s balls. He looked
up at the blond and hummed again.
“God, Buck . . . gonna . . . damn!” and without further warning, Steve’s balls
emptied; he shot hot and hard, white thick jets coating the back of Bucky’s
throat and nearly overflowing the Omega’s full mouth and throat.
Bucky needily sucked down the heavy load, some cum mixed with saliva dripping
down his chin. The Omega pulled back to lap at the tip, tongue dipping into the
slit to completely clean his Alpha.
Steve’s hands tangled hard in Bucky’s hair still and he continued to thrust
once in awhile as Bucky cleaned him. The blond felt weak at the knees, his
thighs and ass trembling in the effort to remain standing. “God, Bucky,” he
breathed, sounding like he wanted to sob.
Groaning at the burning tug on his scalp, Bucky pulled away strings of drool
momentarily connecting his Alpha’s head to his red, plush lips. The Omega
looked absolutely wrecked, his lips swollen and cum running down from the
corner of his mouth. “Mhmm . . . the tugging feels better with the short hair.”
His voice sounded raspy from being fucked raw.
Finally, Steve let himself collapse backwards to the edge of the bed, letting
Bucky’s hair go. He grabbed his mate by the arm and side and pulled him up for
an intense kiss, not caring if he tasted his own cum as he licked Bucky’s mouth
and face clean, his energy on such high, his eyes glowed brighter than they’d
done before. Slowly, that high energy began to feed right back into Bucky and
the pup, nourishing and replenishing them.
“You like that, Alpha?” Bucky breathed against Steve’s lips, his throat already
healing from the brutal pace Steve had ended with.
“As long as you like it, Buck, I love it,” Steve replied breathlessly, his body
almost vibrating in approval and excitement. He was nowhere near the end of his
limits, being far from over-stimulated, but he felt like he could go a couple
dozen more rounds of sex with his lovely mate.
As if sensing the continued arousal in his mate, Bucky smirked and climbed onto
Steve’s lap, effortlessly sinking down on the large erection. His passage
completely slicked and the fluids dripping down the Omega’s thighs. The brunet
groaned, letting his head fall back as he circled his hips, grinding the member
deeper inside.
“Bucky, damn, you’re on fire, baby,” Steve groaned, his large, strong hands
encircling his lean mate’s waist. The Alpha thrust up to meet the Omega's down
strokes, canting his hips so he could reach deeper, shifting once or twice
before he found the right position to slide across Bucky's prostate. “And,
clever . . . did I mention . . . you’re clever . . . and so, fuckin’ beautiful
. . .” the blond had lost it, his polite tones and speech gone completely as he
made love with his mate.
Bucky keened and picked up the rhythm, raising and slamming his hips down on
Steve’s enormous tool. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, as did
the Omega’s sweet, seductive scent. The brunet’s back arched, riding his
Alpha’s member in a desperate, needy fashion. “Fuck me . . . fill me . . .”
Bucky breathed, panting harshly as he continued his fast pace, “God, Stevie . .
. fucking wreck me . . .”
Tightening his hands on Bucky’s hips, Steve slammed his hips up to meet
Bucky’s, his eyes locking with the other man’s. He angled enough to drag across
Bucky’s prostate as he thrust deeper and harder, his fast pace losing the
rhythm his mate had set. Steve’s hips began to stutter as he bucked up into his
Omega; and he fell silent at last, grunting, growling, and moaning as he
worked.
“Yes, Stevie . . .” Bucky moaned, his own hips beginning to stutter and falter,
“wanna feel you . . . fucking wreck me . . .” The brunet groaned and let his
head fall back again, enjoying the feeling his Alpha’s unforgiving pace.
“Gotcha, Bucky baby . . . I gotcha,” Steve groaned, pulling Bucky down as he
thrust up, pulling all the way out as he did the outstroke and bottoming out on
the instroke. He clamped his teeth hard on Bucky’s mate mark, clenched his ass,
and thrust in with one last, punishing stroke, holding as tightly into Bucky as
he could as his knot formed and held them together. Hot life-seed spilled out
in a gush.
Bucky groaned loudly and spilled his own load across both of their chests,
striping their torsos in thick ropes of cum. He panted and clawed at Steve’s
back, dragging his nails across the flesh, actually managing to tear into it;
however, the gashes healed almost as soon as they were formed.
Steve lifted his mouth, dripping with energy, from Bucky’s neck and slowly met
Bucky’s mouth in a searing kiss. He dipped his tongue in deep to his mate’s
mouth, exploring, caressing, tasting his lover. The big blond didn’t pull out
of the kiss until his knot deflated and he fell out of his Omega’s passage,
dragging cum and slick with him. “God, Buck,” he breathed, “I love you so much
it hurts . . . I’d gladly hurt like this to the end of time . . .”
The Omega beamed; for the first time in weeks, he vibrated with extra energy,
“I love you, too, Stevie,” he placed another kiss on Steve’s lips, “so . . .”
kiss, “damn . . .” another loving peck, “much.”
Running his hands over Bucky’s short hair, smiling at his love, Steve asked,
“so . . . uh . . . this new feeding technique?” The blond flushed at the
pleasurable memory, “was it as good for you as it was for me, Omega?”
Bucky hummed and ground down on Steve’s pelvis, spreading his slick mixed with
Steve’s cum across the skin, “you tell me, Alpha? Did it look like I enjoyed
it?”
“I sure hope so, Buck, because I loved it,” Steve chuckled. He dropped a hand
down to stroke over the pup-bump fondly, “and our little Alpha seems to be full
for once.”
“Yes, thank God,” Bucky said exasperated and slid off of Steve’s lap. “She’s a
little energy hog.”
“She?” Steve looked amused but didn’t question how Bucky might know such a
thing as gender. Omegas were often said to be internally close to the pups they
bore and could sometimes determine such things. Steve hadn’t been able to with
Johnny, but then, he’d been abused and neglected by Pierce during his own
pregnancy. The blond sat up and grinned widely.
Bucky walked over to the wash station; the Omega seemed to almost be bursting
with excess energy, “I mean . . . when I think of the pup . . . I see a girl,
ya know?” The brunet wet two cloths and walked back over to the Alpha.
“And I’m supposed to be taking care of you, love,” Steve chuckled, but allowed
his Omega freedom to do whatever he chose. Bucky and he worked better as a
team, Steve had learned rather quickly. “And how in the world did you figure
out how to talk to me that way?”
What? You mean like this? Bucky’s lips curled into a smirk as he washed the
mess from his mate’s chest.
Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Yeah . . . how’d you do that?” He stroked
his finger down the man’s pretty cheek. “Only Maximoffs and Xaviers are
supposed to be able to do that.”
Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know, really. I just wanted to tell you it was okay to
move . . . but my mouth was kinda full at that moment . . . so, I figured if we
can read each other’s emotions . . . why couldn’t I speak in you mind?” The
Omega moved onto cleaning himself once the blond was completely wiped of the
mess.
Steve nodded. “I’ll have to work on that. I never even thought we could share
our thoughts so clearly.” Steve leaned over and kissed Bucky. “My clever,
amazing Omega. You are going to be the most amazing dam! I swear if we wanted
to take over the world, we’d be able to.”
“You betcha sweet ass,” Bucky chuckled and caressed his pup-bump, “our little
Alpha will be strong like you, Steve.”
“And clever and fast like you, Buck,” Steve agreed, laying his hand over
Bucky’s and the bump. “She’ll be a strong, very special Alpha.”
“And Summer will be such a good sister,” Bucky nodded and stepped off the bed
again, his body vibrating with the need to move. The brunet walked over to the
wardrobe to pick out his clothes.
Taking the unspoken cue his mate gave, Steve moved to get dressed. He quickly
worked, wanting to take advantage of Bucky’s great health while they could.
“So, we strike the tunnels and look for documents. What else did you think we
might do tonight, if we have the time and energy?”
“We need to kill any and all surviving members, if they are still there,” Bucky
said, pulling on his pants, easily buttoning them up. The Omega pulled on a
black shirt and carefully fastened each button with ease.
Laughing, Steve nodded, “that was a given, Bucky, my blood-thirsty Omega.” He
threw a waistcoat at Bucky before sliding into one of his own, a dark sapphire
color that covered his black shirt with a hint of color. Steve also work black
trousers. “I was talking about if you wanted to visit Tony again or had other
people on your list to visit to strike at Hydra from a different place?”
Slipping into the dark grey waistcoat, Bucky fastened those buttons and nodded,
“there is someone that might be of help to us. But I don’t think you’re gonna
like it.”
“Look, Buck, as long as your ally remains our ally, I’ll let you take point on
this. I want Hydra down. Will your contact tolerate vampyres?” Steve looked
over at his mate, taking in the beautiful lines, even with the pup-bump. He’d
found a damn fine specimen to get with. Steve smiled.
“Eh,” Bucky drawled, pulling on his boots, “maybe? You know Nick Fury?”
The blond frowned. “He’s part of a team called Shield, other hunters, right?”
Nodding, Bucky straightened and said, “yeah . . . he’d been trying to recruit
me for years. Guy owes me a favor, because I saved him from a feral pack of
vampires. Maybe it’s time he delivers.”
“So, what’s his group like compared to Hydra? I mean, not the experimentation,
but the vampyre and vampire death dedication?” Steve asked softly.
“They mainly go after vampires and those awful creations of Hydra,” Bucky
answered, “Fury hates Pierce because Pierce went behind his back to start
Hydra.”
“So, I get the feeling Fury doesn’t know Pierce is actually a vampyre?” Steve
tugged on his boots.
“Steve, no one knows Pierce is a vampyre . . . at least, not publicly,” Bucky
stated and grabbed his black coat with faint silver designs etched into the
fabric. “But I bet as soon as he finds out, Fury will help us bring them down.”
“But with Pierce being a vampyre, will Fury switch to hunting us, as well?” the
blond aske,d still softly.
Sighing, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and tousled the brown locks,
“hard to say, Steve. But if we can get him to help us . . . there would be no
way that Hydra could survive.”
“Fine, we’ll talk to him, but be wary. I don’t want this man turning on us and
following us to the house or anything.” Taking Bucky’s hand, Steve lifted it to
plant a kiss in the center of Bucky’s palm. “Ready, my love?”
“Always,” Bucky answered.
***** Of Fire and Desperation *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Bucky powered his legs through the dense forest, jumping over tree stumps and
foilage, his body nothing but a blur to any outside eyes. He could see Steve
running besides him, actually falling slightly behind his Omega.
Too slow, old man, Bucky teased, throwing a mischievous grin over to his mate.
Steve shot him a grin, still not able to telepathically speak to his mate, but
his emotions were evident: amusement, excitement, and an underlying weave of
fear. He continued to run slightly behind Bucky, not bothering to inform the
Omega that he was behind on purpose, so he could keep an eye on whatever might
come at Bucky. Soon the still blazing fire of the compound roared through the
trees, a bright assault on the eyes, nose, and skin.
Slowing to a normal jog and then stopping altogether, Bucky crouched down low,
behind some large bushes, as he took in the sight in front of him, his mate a
beat or two behind. Steve, Hydra agents . . . the area swarmed with Hydra
operatives. The Omega looked to his mate, his golden eyes gleaming in the
moonlight.
With a single nod, Steve slid his hand over Bucky’s neck and tapped the left
side, though he stood on Bucky’s right.
The brunet looked over to the left where less agents prowled over and the path
towards the tunnel was barely visible, only evident because of knowledge and
the eerie raging flames.
Steve pulled back his hand, indicating Bucky had done exactly what the Alpha
had wanted. He flicked his eyes to meet Bucky’s then his chin towards the
tunnel path. Steve stayed low, waiting for his mate’s reaction.
Nodding, Bucky quietly stood back up, his eyes constantly moving to observe his
surroundings. In a flash, the Omega took off, knowing his Alpha wouldn’t be far
behind. Bucky could feel the heat from the fire on his icy skin, and the thick
smoke billowing from the ruins temporarily blinded him as he pushed through
into the tunnel entrance.
A strong hand on his back kept him on a straight line through the smoke until
they got further in, to a place remarkably clear of the fumes and soot. Steve
leaned close, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s thickening waist to stop him.
Whispering, Steve said, “there’s got to be another opening to vent this place.”
“There are small ventilation shafts built throughout the tunnels, in case of
collapse,” Bucky reported and stepped further into the long maze of
intersecting corridors.
Nodding, Steve leaned close and stole a quick kiss, smiling as he backed off.
“I’ll follow you,” he whispered and somehow his thought came through, anywhere.
Bucky smiled, you did it!
Looking surprised, Steve stared intently at his mate’s eyes and thought, You
heard that?
Sure did, you romantic sap, Bucky teased gently, taking a right turn down what
seemed like an endless corridor.
A wide smile crossed the vampyre’s face and he nodded. Obviously after his two
communications, he felt more confident on how to use their mate-bond. This will
be a big help when we strike future Hydra places, too. He easily followed
Bucky’s turns and twists through the dark concrete hallways.
You know what else this will be good for? Bucky snuck a wicked smile over his
shoulder at his mate.
What, Steve asked a bit slower at using the bond but still strong in the
connection.
Thinking about all the naughty things you can do to me while we sit in one of
those boring house meetings, make you blush and squirm so pretty, Alpha, Bucky
promised, a happy glint in eyes.
A slow chuckle came over their bond and Steve smiled though he remained quiet.
I lead those meetings, Impudence, he responded with a mental chuckle.
Doesn’t make them any less boring, Bucky answered with a shake of his head; he
continued to walk down the twists and turns of the corridors, the mental map in
his head leading the way.
The blond seemed unbothered by the complaint or the fact that he was forced to
follow the other man or get lost; he had meant it when he’d told Bucky that the
brunet was co-leader of the house. Softly, Steve sniffed the air and frowned.
Buck? I smell fire again . . . to the right.
Stopping, Bucky looked in that direction, eyes narrowed and he breathed in
deeply; nodding the brunet said, I smell it, too. Along with some of those . .
. dhampyr.
Curling his lip, Steve nodded. Is that where we need to go?
Yes, Bucky answered, flicking his eyes to look up at his mate.
Figures, Steve nodded once and carefully moved in that direction. We should
have brought water so we could dampen our neck-cloths to block the smoke. He
glanced over at Bucky, frowning.
If we turn back, those documents are as good as gone, Bucky added, looking down
the hallway that was beginning to thicken with dark smoke.
The blond looked thoughtful then nodded. Use your neckerchief anyway, it might
be some help. Steve dropped to his haunches and pulled the fashionable wind of
cloth from his own neck, signaling Bucky closer so he could help the other man.
Steve tied his own cloth over his mouth and nose then did the same for Bucky
with the brunet’s cloth. Good?
Bucky gave Steve a thumbs up gesture and nodded.
Nodding again, his face half hidden but his gold-fired blue eyes worried, Steve
turned back to the tunnel. Crawl below the smoke, love.
Yes, Alpha, Bucky’s immediate affirmative came over the bond.
Steve winced and added not an order, just advice, sorry, love. I release you
from all orders. Please, crawl below the smoke. He really had to work on those
statements that could be misunderstood.
Nodding, Bucky lowered himself further and began to move, under the thick layer
of smoke.
The large blond followed, bending his back to keep his head low since he was
slightly too high on his hands and knees. He stayed directly behind Bucky,
almost close enough to touch, until, finally, he placed a hand on his mate’s
ankle due to the dark. Just me. Don’t wanna lose you.
Bucky’s eyes watered and he blinked, clearing the obstruction, sending tears
down his cheeks, fuck, the smoke is bad.
Agreed, sooner done, sooner we breathe again. Are we close? Steve responded
instantly so Bucky wouldn’t feel alone in the darkening tunnel.
Bucky suddenly stopped, head shooting up. The Omega sat up and held his hand up
to Steve, unsure if the blond could even see the gesture. Dhampyr and Zombies.
Right around left corner. They’re in the room, Steve.
Nodding despite Bucky being unable to see him in the dark behind the brunet,
Steve gave Bucky’s ankle a soft squeeze, enough to be felt through the leather
of his boot. Can you tell how close to the files they are?
No, let me get closer, the brunet carefully crawled over to the edge of the
doorway, peeking inside the brunet’s watery eyes widened, two dhampyr. Three
zombies. Ransacking the files.
Shit! Steve swore silently. We’re gonna have to stop them to get as much as we
can. He crawled carefully up to beside his mate, his shoulder just brushing
Bucky’s empty left shoulder.
Plan of attack? Bucky asked, turning to look at his Alpha.
The zombies aren’t a real threat, so we take out the dhampyr first. Why don’t
we go for the legs to take them down then the throats? Do not use your mouth or
teeth, Bucky, keep the cloth on if you can, please. Steve bumped Bucky’s
shoulder softly.
You take the one on the right? Bucky asked, looking at the creature currently
thrashing a cabinet full of documents, shredding the parchment.
Yes, as soon as you get your’s done, see if you can take out zombies. I’ll help
where I can. We take care of the files when the threat is gone. Okay?” Steve
bumped again. And, without further warning, Steve launched himself from his
crouch into a long pounce at the dhampyr he’d been assigned, tackling it hard
to the floor and clawing at the being’s body wherever he could reach.
Following his Alpha’s movements, Bucky slammed his entire body weight onto the
distracted dhampyr, bringing the creature to the ground. They tumbled and Bucky
snarled, wrapping his only hand around its throat. Without being able to use
his fangs, the vampyre was at a slight disadvantage. Using his legs to kick at
the being above him, Bucky landed a solid hit to the dhampyr’s upper thigh just
as it’s fangs sunk into the meat of the brunet’s left shoulder. With a feral,
pained growl, Bucky kicked again.
The dhampyr suddenly was wrenched from Bucky’s body and a horrendous cracking
echoed in the chamber before the body flung far. Steve never said a word,
moving on to a zombie once he knew his pained mate was safe.
Gold energy leaked from the wound, but Bucky pushed to his feet with a grunt
and attacked the nearest zombie. This creature being easier to kill than the
last, the brunet grabbed it by its neck and slammed it up against the wall,
over and over again until the corpse hung completely limp in his hand, the back
of it’s head completely caved it.
Broke your toy so quickly? Steve’s mental voice sounded amused yet tired. You
can play with the last one, if you want, Bucky.
Yes, please, Alpha, Bucky growled again and, ignoring the pain in his shoulder,
launched himself at the last zombie. He disposed of the creature in a similar
way to the first, unsure if Steve’s warning against using his mouth counted
against the zombies as well, but the Omega didn’t want to risk it. Finally, the
zombie’s skull smashed open, splattering on the wall behind it. The vampire let
the body fall to a heap on the concrete floor.
Meanwhile, Steve started trying to gather up the files, thankful for the Rogers
immunity to toxins. The smoke was an annoyance, but wouldn’t be permanently
debilitating. The large blond slid the pack from his back and began carefully,
yet quickly, shovelling all files he could into it, including every shredded
page he could find. Dhampyr had intelligence, so the shredded files had to be
the most important.
Bucky pressed his right hand to the wound on his shoulder, gold energy oozing
through his fingers; it most likely wouldn’t heal until Steve was able to give
him a feeding. Feeling the heat from the nearby fire, the Omega thought, Steve,
we gotta go. Fire is getting too close for comfort.
Can you grab the files that were in the drawer they were ransacking, Bucky?
I’ve got the shreds but my bag is full. Steve was not ignorant of Bucky’s
worry, injury, or concern. He moved closer to his mate, pulling out files and
grabbing for the bag to help Bucky keep it open.
Nodding, Bucky let go the wound, letting the energy flow freely as his gold
slickened hand hurriedly shoved the documents into the bag Steve helped keep
open.
Once that particular drawer was empty, Steve conceded the rest as lost. He
shouldered both bags and nodded. Out, Buck. Let’s get to Tony’s. It’s closest.
He saw the energy flowing from Bucky and knew the dhampyr’s bite was serious.
Steve had to get his mate fed and healed to stop the infection.
Hurrying into the hall, not bothering to crawl this time, Bucky stumbled to the
side as the fire raged down the hall, bright red and orange flames licking up
the wall.
Letting out a cough from right behind his mate, Steve’s mental tone sounded
desperate. Can you run, Buck? The faster you can get through this, the sooner I
can heal you and the pain will end, my brave Omega.
Bucky already felt the weakening drain from losing so much energy from the bite
wound, but the Omega nodded and took off in a sprint; he wasn’t going anywhere
close to as fast as he had been going earlier.
Keeping up with his mate, Steve kept a tight reign on his emotions and
feelings. He needed the other man to do as much of the work as he could to
escape. He’d tell Bucky later that the dhampyr had seriously hurt Steve’s thigh
and hip. Pushing through the pain and his own energy loss, the blond led them
back through the tunnels using his vaunted memory for a place once traveled.
The brunet knew he had to stop or at least ebb the steady flow of energy
leaking from the wound; slowing only slightly, Bucky pulled off the cloth
keeping the smoke at bay from around his neck and pressed it firmly to the
wound with a small hiss that ended in a cough. The smoke entered unfiltered
into his body; although he was immune to the toxins, the vampire still felt a
burning in his lungs.
Taking a deep breath, despite the acrid smoke-covered air, Steve shouldered
both packs on his left and grabbed Bucky’s waist with his right, practically
carrying the other man as he slowed to a determined trudge through the tunnels.
I can do it, Alpha, you’re hurt as well, Bucky pulled away from Steve; he
didn’t know where exactly the blond was injured, but he could feel the pain
through their bond. The Omega quickened his pace slightly, although his feet
dragged across the concrete, feeling his even damper left side. So, Steve had
been hurt somewhere along the right side.
Nodding, not protesting now that Bucky had picked up his pace, Steve continued
to move on Bucky’s heels, as if driving the other man. Soon, thankfully, they
got into a chamber with great ventilation, cooler and even damp. Steve had
taken a wrong turn and led them closer to the warehouse section, near the
river.
Looking around, Bucky coughed, his pale face was covered in soot mixed with
sweat. The gold energy had begun to leak from the kerchief, down the Omega’s
hand and wrist. It took a few moments for the ex-hunter to realize where they
were.
“Sorry,” Steve coughed, “wrong turn.” He looked to his spouse, pale under the
soot and dhampyr blood. His right hip and leg were soaked with golden energy.
“Follow me,” the brunet rasped; his throat and lungs burned with breathing in
the smoke. Bucky tried not to worry about his mate’s obviously serious injury;
they would take care of each other as soon as they made it out of these
goddamned tunnels.
Without further word, Steve followed at Bucky’s heals, his large body slowing
down slightly, though he determinedly pushed to keep up keep Bucky moving. Once
they got to Tony’s, the blond could take several days, if needed, to work on
healing Bucky. They just needed to get there.
Fuck, Bucky snapped as they neared the exit that led under the river; he’d
stopped and turned worried eyes to Steve, smell that?
What, love? Steve asked.
Agents. Vampir.
Nodding, Steve reached over and took Bucky’s wrist, keeping him going directly
towards the river exit. He moved carefully, despite their multiple injuries,
and got to the edge of the corridor. Glancing slowly around the edge, Steve
nodded once more. Climb on my shoulders and grab the bags. I’m swimming you
outta here. Don’t let the parchment get wet, Bucky, please. Steve crouched with
a wince.
Unable to refuse the direct order, although his mind screamed at him to not
listen, Steve was weak, hurt . . . he definitely should not be carrying Bucky’s
weight right now. “Alpha . . .” The brunet almost sounded pleading, begging the
blond to retract the orders.
Keeping to their silent method, Steve shot back I’m not strong enough to fight,
Buck, please. The water will help me support you! He desperately glanced around
the corner again.
Swallowing hard, Bucky nodded and grabbed the bags as he climbed up on the
large shoulders. His mind continued to fight against the orders in his head,
not wanting to hurt his Alpha any more than he already was.
Steve nodded, relieved Bucky obeyed. He slid to the water’s edge, staying low
out of the Agents’ gaze. Nodding to Bucky, Steve slipped silently into the
water with a wince. Okay, Bucky, ready?
Yes, Alpha, Bucky answered, trying to support as much of his own weight as he
could, his legs wrapping around Steve’s waist and his arm securely around the
blond’s neck, dropping the energy saturated cloth into the river, letting it
get swept away by the current.
Good, Steve responded and struck out at a difficult crawl through the water,
proving to be a rather strong swimmer. Please stop shifting if you can, Buck.
You’re throwing my weight off. Steve mentally asked. Can you tell me when we
are clear of this place? I’ll stick near shore.
Trying to keep as still as possible, though it was hard with his weakened
state, Bucky nodded.
A steady feel of energy began to seep up into Bucky’s ass from Steve’s back and
shoulders.
After a few minutes, Bucky said, “Okay . . . stop, Steve. We’re clear.”
Not even responding, Steve instantly shifted so that they made landfall very
shortly. He crawled as close to the shore as possible before stopping and
laying in the water, panting. “Okay . . .”
Bucky groaned and clawed his way from on top of Steve, he crawled up the
shorebank, the soft mud giving way under his hand and knees. The brunet
collapsed, his limbs shaking too much to be of any use.
Crawling from the water, Steve began to drag Bucky away from the mudbank and
onto a stone dock, ignoring the riff raff he moved among. He had slipped the
bags back over his left shoulder.
The movement jarred Bucky’s injury, which had begun to throb, and the Omega
snarled, much like an injured dog, cornered.
No one bothered the pair, despite the look of an attacker and his victim. Steve
managed to get Bucky up to the street and to a buggy standing nearby; the
horse’s head hung down in near sleep, the driver dozing as he waited for
whoever he was working for. Baring his teeth, fangs showing, Steve nodded.
We’re getting a ride, Buck. At that, Steve took a breath and hefted Bucky up,
using only his right arm, to his injured hip. He staggered to the carriage and
shoved his mate inside the open vehicle. In a low snarl, he said, “you’re
taking us to Anthony Stark if you value your life.”
Bucky’s skin shone with a thin layer of sweat and his body trembled, the edges
of the bite mark growing black in a veiny pattern; looking closer, Steve could
see the injury reached down to the bone.
“I can feed you now, Buck, if you need it?” Steve panted as he crawled up
beside his mate, dumping the two bags, tied shut, to the floor of the vehicle.
Fortunately, the driver had obeyed and was hurrying towards the very famous
residence.
Looking at his mate with dull, half lidded eyes, Bucky shook his head slowly,
“not . . . here . . .” the voice came out raspy and breathless as the Omega’s
chest heaved.
“‘Kay,” Steve agreed and tried to catch his breath, laying a hand over Bucky’s
injured shoulder, a small flow of energy covering the bite mark.
Laying in a slump against the door, Bucky’s eyes watched the city pass by; his
left hand, still slick with a shining gold, rested against his abdomen. “Ava’s
okay, Steve . . .”
“Lovely name,” Steve murmured with a small smile. “We’ll get to Tony’s then
I’ll take care of you both.”
Bucky’s eyes moved down to the bite wound, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of
the spreading blackness around the injury, “what’s . . . doing?” The Omega
slurred, sounding almost drunk.
“The toxins, Buck, but as soon as you feed you can stop it.” Steve glanced at
the wound under his hand with a frown. “You sure don’t wanna feed now?” The
coach pulled to a stop and the driver glanced back at the injured man in his
open vehicle. Without being told, he jumped from the seat and hurried to the
door, slamming to wake the house. “Mister Stark! They’re injured, Sir!”
A light came on and soon the door opened; Tony in his velvet robe followed by a
very tired, disapproving looking Rhodey, hurried out the door. Ignoring the
driver at the moment, not asking why he’d been brought injured people in the
middle of the night, the inventor helped his friend pull Bucky from the
carriage.
Just as Tony’s voice carried over to them, Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his
head and his body began to convulse, white foam running from the corner of his
mouth.
“Damn!” Tony and Rhodey lay him on the hall floor, the servant, Jarvis, rushing
out to get Steve, shouldering the smoke-scented bags. Without knowing what to
do, but having observed the pair the last time they’d visited, Tony leaned over
and placed his hands on the wound. He willed Bucky to live and he tried to push
the toxins back out of the wound, kneading the shoulder.
When Steve was lain next to his mate, he rolled over and pushed Tony weakly
away. Rather, Steve put his mouth directly over the wound and began to suck his
hardest to pull out the toxin, his hand going up to cover right above the
blackness, forcing an intense wave of energy into Bucky, feeding him and
keeping the toxin at bay.
Kneeling on the floor, blinking, Rhodey seemed at a loss, but Tony threw
himself at his downstairs lab and came back with surgical supplies, pushing
Steve away again to cut the wound open and deep, allowing for Steve to drain it
easier. The pair kept working despite the convulsions.
Jarvis paid the driver handsomely and sent him on his way.
After a few long moments, the convulsions stopped, but Bucky’s eyes remained
closed, his mouth hanging open slightly.
Having drained out all the black toxin he could, Steve began undressing his
mate, right there in the hallway, and himself so that he could get enough skin
contact. He thankfully accepted a drink of water from Tony, spitting out the
foul mix along with the mouth of water. Steve then began kissing Bucky’s mouth,
pushing energy into him from every pore, ignoring his own seeping injuries.
Tony looked to Pepper, helplessness in his eyes. “I don’t think the blood
machine's gonna help them . . .”
Watching as Steve pushed into the lifeless Bucky, Pepper’s eyes moved back to
Tony; with a shake of her head, she breathed, “no . . . probably not.”
“Seems an odd way to save a life,” Rhodey said, flushing and looking away, but
Tony watched in a detached, clinical way, more concerned for Bucky’s life than
the oddity of the two men having sex on his hallway floor.
Jarvis helpfully draped a large, warm throw blanket over Steve’s shoulders as
the vampyre continued to work on his mate, whispering in his mind. Buck, if you
die, I’ll die. Please, come back to me, love!
Bucky’s mind was heartbreakingly silent, no usual quip or smirk gracing those
plush lips.
Coming close to release quickly, since he’d had practice in doing this in
desperation ever since he’d saved Bucky’s life originally, Steve pulled out
then moved to Bucky’s mouth to finish stroking himself off, cumming into
Bucky’s throat.
That was the point Jarvis turned Pepper away, and Tony determined to stop
watching, as well, though his mind locked on the idea of asking them later just
why Steve had done that.
The brunet choked, back arching off the ground as he sputtered, coughing up
some of the hot seed. Alpha?
Thankfully, tears streaming down his face, Steve leaned over and sealed his
mouth over Bucky’s. Right here, Omega, my heart. Right here, Bucky.
Opening his eyes, just slightly, Bucky offered his mate a weak smile; the white
teeth contrasted greatly with his dirtied skin.
Relief coursed through Steve and he looked to the others in the hall. “I need
to feed him again . . . we’ve been wounded trying . . . I’ll explain later. May
we have a room? Please?”
“Yes, of course,” Pepper answered immediately, turning back to look at Steve,
“do you need help carrying him?”
“Yes, please?” Steve struggled to stand, himself, Jarvis leaping forward to
help the large man.
Pepper nodded and looked to Rhodey, “would you mind?”
Rhodey responded at the woman’s look and stepped over to carefully lift the
injured brunet into his arms. “Sometimes I wonder why I work here,” he said as
he carried Bucky up the steps to the room the pair had been in the previous
time.
Tony watched as his guests were brought upstairs then turned to his wife. “That
was perhaps the most desperate act of love I’ve seen, despite the icky mouth
sex.”
Unable to form words, Pepper nodded in agreement, watching the retreating
vampyres.
“That was icky, right? Or not? Maybe you liked it?” Tony pushed.
Pepper rolled her eyes and threw a pillow from one of the chairs in the hall at
her husband, “you are crude,” though the redhead didn’t agree or disagree with
the inventor.
Letting the pillow hit him then fall to the floor, Tony nodded. “So that’s a no
on trying mouth sex, then?”
“I don’t recall saying no,” Pepper said and then turned on her heel to walk
down the hall.
The raven-haired man grinned. “Great. Me first. I wanna taste you.” He turned
and headed for their room.
In the privacy of the guest room, after Rhodey and Jarvis left, shutting the
door, Steve crawled up next to Bucky and kissed the opened shoulder, knowing
that this time when his lover healed, that perfect skin would remain scarred.
“I didn’t have time to warn you of their toxins, Buck. I’m so sorry.” He let
energy flow with every kiss directly into the open wound.
“Couldn’t . . . use . . . mouth,” Bucky answered, eyes still half-lidded,
“sorry . . . Alpha . . .”
“I release you from your orders, love,” Steve sighed, frowning. “I think we
need to figure a way to arm you, Buck.” He kissed again. “You did so well.”
“You . . . hurt . . .” Bucky looked over at his mate.
“I heal as you heal, Bucky,” Steve assured him. The blond kissed again, pushing
energy into the wound, finding any last hidden traced of dhampyr toxin.
“Love . . . me?” Bucky breathed.
“Forever and ever, Buck,” Steve answered and slid carefully into his mate,
letting energy push ahead of his member as he slid deep.
Bucky was too weak to do much more than let his body move with the thrusts,
though small gasps and keens broke past his lips as Steve slid across his
prostate.
Stroking long and deep in a slow rhythm, his feeding rhythm, Steve continued to
kiss Bucky’s wounded shoulder, encouraging it to heal as he pushed energy both
from his lips and his erection. My love forever, to the end of life’s line?
Forever . . . Bucky echoed. Steve’s steady rhythm quickly brought the Omega to
the edge of his orgasm; with a weak cry, the brunet came, his life-seed
striping his pale chest.
Before it could cool this time, Steve immediately fed the seed to his mate,
knowing it wasn’t the same as his own, but it could help. “Just a bit, Buck,
enough to help keep your strength up.”
Bucky opened his mouth to lap at the cum coating Steve’s fingers, the salty
fluid coating his tongue and making his body vibrant with the need for more.
Relief crossed Steve’s face, but he stopped the feeding the second he felt the
substance cooling, recalling how his mate had told him of a dislike for the
cooled stuff. Steve didn’t stop his steady rhythm the entire time he took care
of Bucky. As soon as the mouth feeding ended, Steve picked up the pace of his
thrusts, signaling he was going to let loose with some life-seed soon to feed
the pup inside Bucky’s womb. “Soon, baby, I’ll feed you again.”
The Omega keened and his hand gripped the sheets; he looked so much like he did
during his unnaturally short newborn stage.
After releasing a massive load inside his lover, Steve slowly pulled from
Bucky’s hot passage, kissing as he went. He rolled over his love to retrieve a
cloth so he could finish cleaning Bucky’s cum from their bodies. Once
comfortable again, Steve smiled. “Ready to be fed directly, love?”
“Please, Alpha? Please . . . I need it,” Bucky whimpered on a needy whine.
“I know,” Steve assured. He climbed back onto his bed and knee-walked up
Bucky’s body, his legs straddling the lean man. Finally, Steve got to Bucky’s
face and let his heavy erection thrust out proudly over Bucky’s mouth. “Go
ahead, Buck . . .” he encouraged.
Leaning forward, Bucky wrapped his lips around his Alpha’s large member, his
tongue swirling and lapping at the head as he slowly took in more length.
Smiling, eyes fluttering at the sensation, Steve purred, “Good boy, Buck, feed
yourself as much as you want . . whatever you can take, baby.” He didn’t want
his lover choking himself like last time.
Bucky hummed at the praise and looked up at Steve, his pale blue eyes shining
once more. Using his right arm to help prop himself up, the Omega pushed the
erection to the back of his throat, swallowing down the head with an obscene
gagging noise. Soot still streaked his face, making the color of his eyes stand
out as they continued to stare at his Alpha.
Tangling his hand in Bucky’s dirty curls, Steve began to thrust in and out,
carefully to pay attention to Bucy’s signals and mental commands, not wanting
to hurt his lover. He kept his vivid blue eyes locked on the paler blue of his
mate’s. Mentally, Steve kept repeating how good and brave and strong Bucky was,
over and over reassuring and praising his beloved.
Groaning around the member in his mouth, the slight tugging of Steve’s hand
made the brunet hum again. He continued to suck and swirl his tongue around the
blond’s erection; he swallowed repeatedly to enclose that moist passage around
his lover.
Groaning loudly at the intense muscle squeezing around his member, Steve
finally threw back his head and thrust hard, losing his steady rhythm, hips
stuttering as his felt that familiar, almost painful pull. “Gonna . . .” Steve
warned before he began to release his hot load down his lover’s throat,
groaning low the entire time, hips stuttering as he continued to thrust.
Steve’s continual thrusts drove out some of the cum and saliva from the corners
of Bucky’s mouth as the Omega attempted to swallow down all of the life-seed.
The brunet pulled back to lick the blond clean, lapping up any remaining cum.
“My beautiful, good boy,” Steve breathed out. He slid off of his lover and took
a couple of deep breaths to regain control, his hip and thigh finally beginning
to heal though his flesh remained stained golden. Smiling at Bucky, Steve went
to get more washing supplies and came back to finally begin cleaning his
beautiful lover of soot, dirt, and other stuff acquired from their mission. His
eyes flicked over to the bags sitting in the corner and Steve looked back at
his mate. “We got some of it. Hopefully the most important stuff,” he said.
Bucky nodded, some of his color returning to his skin as the open wound on his
chest finally started to knit back together. “I hope so, I’d hate to have
almost gotten us killed over meaningless documents.”
After the blond had gone through a lot of cloths washing Bucky, he began to
clean up himself. “We both nearly got us both killed, so feel free to share the
blame where it belongs, love,” Steve offered Bucky a small smile, washing
himself carefully before standing again to go rinse his hair, the soot that had
made his hair nearly black running from the blond tresses in great rivers. The
vampyr had to pump fresh water for their bathing at least four times before he
was satisfied.
Pulling the covers over himself, Bucky turned on his side and watched his
lover.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Bucky, please. I gotta change out the sheets, too,
since we got them so grimy.” Steve threw the sexy brunet a smile. “How’s the
shoulder?”
The brunet groaned, nuzzling the pillow, “it’s okay. Healing. Still throbs a
bit . . . but it’s better.” The Omega curled up tighter in the dirtied sheets,
peeking at his Alpha from over the edge of the comforter.
Laughing at his naughty lover, Steve said, “I’m going to have to bathe you
again, Bucky!”
The corners of Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, showing that the brunet was smiling, and
the pale eyes had a mischievous glint to them. The Omega ducked completely
under the covers.
“Oh, you are looking to be spanked, Bucky!” Steve laughed low. He walked over,
stopping to pull some clean sheets and covers from the wardrobe, and stopped
beside the bed, putting the clean stuff on a chair. Pulling the corners of the
material from under the mattress, finally, he tossed the edges into the center
and lifted the entire bundle, his mate included, from the bed, putting it down
in the center of the floor with a chuckle. Leaving his lover to fight his way
from the bundle of cloth, Steve hurriedly remade the bed.
With a giggle, the Omega fought his way to untangle himself from the mess of
sheets, however he didn’t completely crawl out, wanting to see how much he
could push his Alpha.
When he finally finished, Steve turned and laughed at the sight of Bucky
peeking out from the blankets like a cat under a sheet. “You are adorable!” He
seemed more inclined to be amused than disciplinary, but looks could be
deceiving. Steve could tell Bucky wanted to play. The large blond walked over
and pulled the sheet back over Bucky’s head, snickering. “I think I need a wash
tub so I can clean up this mess . . .” He let go of the cloth to wait for
Bucky’s reaction.
Bucky stayed under the sheet, squirming against the material as slick began to
trickle out of his passage, enveloping the room in the Omega’s sweet, playful
scent.
Perking up even more at the scent, Steve’s eyes danced. He pulled a large tub
from behind a door and walked over to the bundle of cloth. Picking it up, Bucky
still included, he dumped, carefully, the bundle into the tub. Then he began to
pump water at the nearby washstation. “Hmmm . .. laundry and a bath at the same
time?”
The brunet let out another giggle, his head peeking out again as he watched his
Alpha pump water.
Knowing he was being watched, Steve flexed his ass cheeks repeatedly.
Bucky keened and began to fight the tangled pile of sheets.
Monitoring without seeming to, making sure Bucky didn’t get too frustrated to
keep up the play, Steve turned to the side and began lightly, almost lazily, to
stroke himself, still pumping water with one arm, his large muscles flexing in
his arm at the work.
Finally, the Omega freed his arm then began working on his legs; the brunet
didn’t seemed frustrated at all, loving the play he so rarely rewarded himself
with. Suddenly, Bucky stopped and smiled at Steve. Two can play at this game,
Stevie, he whispered and lowered his right hand to press against his slickened
passage, causing a fresh wave of that sugary scent to hit the Alpha.
A laugh came back both mentally and audibly. You started it, little fledgling,
my love, Steve answered. Have you ever done that before? Steve looked over to
watch his mate touching himself. His erection was thick and full, at high
attention.
The brunet quirked an unimpressed brow, however the expression quickly changed
as Bucky’s fingers found his prostate, causing another loud keen to escape his
lips. The Omega pushed back against his fingers, trying to make as much of a
show as possible.
“Interesting,” Steve chuckled, still stroking himself slowly, leisurely,
letting his fingers fondle over his sac as they reached the downstroke and his
thumb caress over the slit on the upstroke. “A fledgling feeding itself. How
does that work, love? Are you flexible enough to actually finish yourself, too
or do you need someone to help you along?”
Bucky growled low and untangled the rest of his body from the sheets; the Omega
pulled his fingers out with another keen. Stepping out of the tub, the brunet
walked over to the bed.
As soon as Bucky left the nest of blankets, Steve let himself go and darted
over, scooping the brunet up into his strong arms. He grinned widely as he
carried Bucky to the bed and playfully tossed him onto the mattress, letting
him tumble with a bounce to the clean material. “Gotcha!” he crowed.
The brunet scrambled to his knees, a wide smile on his face, “do you?” The
Omega began to back away slowly, egging his Alpha on with a wicked smirk.
Letting out a low growl, an Alpha’s warning that he would claim his Omega,
Steve dropped onto the edge of the bed and began slowly crawling after Bucky,
stalking his mate.
“Whatcha gonna do to me, Stevie? That is if you can catch me,” Bucky slipped
off the opposite end of the bed, that same wicked smirk still on his lips.
Letting Bucky slip away, faking a lunge, Steve lay on the bed and laughed,
careful not to injure himself in his excited state. He rather liked this
playtime his mate had initiated. The big blond rolled over and rose to his
feet, stalking once again; he’d fixed like a predator on the lean form of his
lover. “No opening the door unless you don’t mind showing your lovely body to
Tony’s household,” Steve warned on a low laugh.”
What? You gonna bend me over the hallway table, Stevie? Bucky teased.
If that’s what it takes, Steve shot back, grinning wickedly behind his red-gold
beard.
Bucky side stepped away from Steve, much like their old dangerous dance they
did as hunter and vampyre. What if I want you to fuck me in the common room?
Show everyone I’m yours, mark me right there in front of them all.
I will show anyone and everyone that you are mine! I’ll fuck you in front of
the council if that’s what it takes! Steve let out a low growl.
A shiver of lust ran down Bucky’s spine, causing another rush of slick to run
down his thighs. Obviously his fear of people seeing him embraced with Steve
had faded into something else . . . something completely opposite.
Making a lunge, Steve grabbed Bucky’s right arm, loosely so his mate could
still run if he wanted, making sure not to hurt the still healing man.
“Gotcha!” He growled. He ignored his own still throbbing injuries in the spirit
of the mating game they played.
“Whatcha gonna do with your prize, Stevie?” Bucky drawled, looking up at the
blond.
“Fuck you so hard you beg,” Steve promised, leaning down for a kiss.
Returning the kiss, Bucky’s body trembled in anticipation, he wanted to beg, to
have Steve fuck him so hard that he forgot his own goddamn name. The needy
Omega ground his hips against the Alpha’s, rubbing their erections together.
A moan of pleasure escape the Alpha’s lips and his eyes fluttered shut.
Come on, Alpha, claim your prize, Bucky pressed.
Eyes snapping open, Steve grinned ferally. He tugged Bucky to him and crashed
their lips together, his hand coming over to engulf the brunet’s crotch,
rubbing his erection with large strong fingers. He massaged the leaner man’s
member, slipping his large hand up and down the velvety hardness. Ah, but do I
claim you in the privacy of the den or out in the house where Tony and his clan
have to watch you take me hard?
Out. Please, Alpha . . . fuck me so they know I’m yours . . . Bucky gasped and
arched into Steve’s palm, more slick preparing his passage for the rough bout
of sex that was sure to come. Please, Alpha . . .
With a growl, Steve let go of Bucky’s wrist and flung open the door near them.
“Then when I catch you next, I’ll claim you hard!” he growled in a menacing
promise.
Not waiting a second more, Bucky bolted out of the door, down the hall at a
fast pace for human standards but not anywhere near what a Rogers could
actually do.
Counting to two, Steve bolted after his mate on a low growl, a warning to
anyone near that he was on the hunt for his mate and intended to claim his
prize, no matter who got in the way. The large blond, beautifully nude and
eager for his chase, ran only a step or two behind the brunet, calculating
exactly where he’d catch the man and impale him.
Bucky made it only halfway down the long hallway before Steve wrapped a
possessive arm around the smaller man and thrust him almost painfully against a
table, thankfully clear of decorations. Without pausing, Steve slapped Bucky
across the ass twice, “run from me, Omega?” he growled low then thrust himself
in that reddened ass, deeply embedding himself in one smooth stroke.
Bucky gasped at the pleasurable pain of Steve’s strikes and then the brunet
moaned loudly as the Alpha entered him, thrusting him against the table. Bucky
felt an incredible erotic thrill at knowing that at any time any of the other
people in the house could come across this scene.
Proving Bucky correct, the sound of a coffee cup hitting and breaking on the
floor just caused Steve to thrust harder and growl in warning. Rhodey’s voice
from the side said “hell, no!”
“What . . . oh my!” Pepper stopped dead in her tracks, having opened the door
to see what all the commotion was about. “Tony, dear, I do believe you might
get some of those answers you were looking for . . .”
“Really?” Tony sounded interested and headed to the doorway next to his wife,
blatantly watching the mating in the hallway.
Hearing more people arriving, watching him claim his mate, Steve growled low
again and began thrusting harder, picking up his pace, balls slapping loudly
against Bucky’s flesh as he pistoned in and out. He dragged his large member
across his lover’s prostate with every deep thrust, leaning over to carefully
bite at Bucky’s mate mark, surprisingly so gentle near that wound despite the
ferocity of the mating . . . because this was beyond feeding. It was full-out
mating.
Bucky’s mouth open in a silent scream, the brutal thrusts knocking any sound
out of him. The Omega pushed his hips up more, submitting even more to his
Alpha, the slick ran down his quivering legs.
“What do you like, Omega?” Steve growled out, so far from his normal
controlled, over-polite self. “”What do you want me to do to your sweet body?”
“Fuck me . . . mark me . . . show ‘em I’m yours,” Bucky grunted in between deep
thrusts, his body jarring across the solid surface.
“You want this, Buck? You want me to make you scream?” Steve continued his
brutal pace, holding Bucky’s waist with one large hand, the other tangling in
the brunet’s curls and tugging roughly. He forcibly exposed his mate's neck and
bit the non-injured side, creating an entirely new mate mark as he sunk his
fangs in deep to the previously unmolested glands.
Bucky screamed, a noise full of so much lust, and the Omega panted and groaned,
keening as Steve’s fingers tightened in his short hair, burning the scalp.
You getting close, love? Cause I want them to watch my good boy cum all over.
Steve grunted as he continued his strokes, letting go of Bucky’s waist and
encircling his neglected erection, stroking in time with his own deep thrusts.
The Omega’s eyes rolled back as he saw white, shooting his large load into
Steve’s hand; his hips stuttered and his right hand scrambled for purchase on
the table.
As Steve felt his mate lose control, he roared and came hard, filling his Bucky
as his knot formed on the instroke, the big man forcing the knot inside before
it grew too big, unable to pull it back out as it swelled. He shot rope after
rope of life-seed into his lover, knowing this orgasm was big enough to feed
his pup and his mate. He curled protectively over Bucky as his knot kept them
locked together, lapping the wound he’d made not moments before. “My love, my
wonderful Omega, my beautiful Bucky,” he crooned, not caring that the entire
house had actually stayed to watch and listen. It make him feel powerful to
show them how he had won Bucky and no one else had.
Bucky keened softly, his chest heaving and back arching up to press firmly
against Steve’s firm chest.
“Mine!” Steve growled out before falling silent, content to hold his lover and
feed him, first the life-seed then the excess energy they’d created. Steve’s
wounds had completely healed with their exchange, leaving jagged scars down his
hip and thigh.
“Well,” Pepper looked to Tony, “satisfied?”
“No,” Tony said, matter-of-factly. “Now I wanna do that to you.” He looked at
his wife in all seriousness.
Pepper laughed, shaking her head as she stepped out of the hallway. She patted
the still shocked Rhodey on the shoulder on her way down the hall.
“I’m not cleaning that up!” Tony called out to the household, disappearing back
into his room after his wife.
“No need, sir,” Jarvis intoned politely. The British servant left to retrieve
cleaning supplies.
Rhodey, groaning, turned and went back to the kitchen, leaving his spilled
coffee and damaged cup for the butler to clean up, as well.
“That was . . .” Bucky said, finally regaining his breath, a contented smile on
his face.
“Yeah,” Steve panted behind him, still locked together for who knew how long,
in the middle of Tony’s hall, pushed up against the table that normally
received hats and gloves from visitors. “That was I think our best yet,” he
snickered against Bucky’s neck.
“Definitely,” Bucky agreed with a nod, cooing gently as he nuzzled against the
crook of his own arm, wiping away the sweat.
“Gonna be stuck here a while, Buck. Think they’re mad at us?” Steve peeked over
his shoulder at Jarvis cleaning up the coffee and ceramic.
“Eh, maybe Rhodey . . . Pepper and Tony just seem curious,” Bucky supplied,
“but I think we can give ‘em more lessons.”
“Humph,” Steve nuzzled Bucky again, “well, if they asked, I don’t mind
demonstrating. Anything in the name of helping our hosts.” He snickered again.
The thought caused another shiver to run down Bucky’s spine, “I blame the pup.
She’s making me horny.”
Interested at the response, Steve asked softly, “does this mean that you are
only shy around our own clan or have learned that loving is natural and
deserves expression, my lovely Omega?” Mentally, he said, the pup knows that
sex is the way to food, clever girl.
Nodding, Bucky pressed his forehead to the cool surface of the table, “I guess
I’m not as bothered by it as I used to be.”
Kissing the new mate scar, Steve breathed, “the need for constant feedings was
bound to make you a recluse or an exhibitionist, love.”
Bucky huffed a laugh, “well, it’s safe to say I’m not a recluse, Alpha.”
“A such a pretty exhibitionist, too. Well worth the watching,” Steve chuckled,
kissing again.
The brunet laughed, pink tinging his cheeks, and shifted to get a little more
comfortable, Steve’s knot showing no signs of lessening any time soon.
With a soft whimper of over-pleasure at the stimulation around his member,
Steve stroked his hand down Bucky’s spine, still bent over his lover
protectively. “Maybe next time a softer place to knot?” he chuckled.
Groaning, his muscles quivering and clenching as Steve’s hand traveled down his
spine, Bucky nodded and pressed his forehead against the hard surface. “How can
I still be turned on?” The Omega groaned.
Steve chuckled low. “Because you’re still in a mating heat, my love. I think
you are reacting much like when you were a newborn. Due to the pup’s appetite,
you are also in a constant state of hunger, making your body crave the quickest
way to get energy.” Kissing the new mate mark again, Steve purred out, “meaning
you are continually ready to take me up your hot passage, my horny Omega.”
Bucky keened and pushed back against Steve’s large knot, pushing it further
inside him. The Omega’s slick still ran freely down his legs, the hall
completely engulfed in the brunet’s scent.
Steve let both hands tenderly caress his mate’s back and sides, the strokes
more soothing than erotic, though in their heightened states, the touches were
stimulating as well. The large Alpha continued to kiss his mate on the new
mark, lapping occasionally, and even dragging his fangs over it ever so lightly
once in awhile. “I love my Bucky,’ he purred, sounding content and still very
interested, “to the end of life’s long line.”
***** Of Fury and Heartache *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Sitting in a wing-backed chair in Tony’s parlor, fully dressed except the fall
of his trousers, which was pulled back so he might stay in constant contact
with his mate, Steve wrapped one arm leisurely around Bucky’s waist, looking
over his shoulder at some of the non-damaged documents they’d tried to rescue.
He didn’t exactly thrust, more like stayed, full and present, leaking continual
energy and a steady weeping of pre-cum into his mate. “So, do we bring these to
Fury, give them to Tony, or keep them for our house?” he asked, gently stroking
Bucky’s hair.
Looking down at the parchments, eyes scanning each page he carefully sifted
through, Bucky sighed and shook his head, “none of these make any sense . . .
some of these talk about some type of . . .” the brunet’s eyes narrowed to
decipher the smudged and faded ink, “type of brothel?”
“A mating place for humans?” Steve frowned.
Shaking his head, Bucky continued, “no . . . I - - I don’t think so? Look . .
.” the brunet pointed to the parchment, the plans for a large building laid out
in front of him.
“Breeding rooms?” Steve shook his head. “What can that mean? What would they be
breeding?”
“Well . . .” Bucky sighed, running his fingers over the skin of his abdomen,
“you said that warehouse was shipping pups?”
“My god!” Steve looked down at Bucky, eyes wide and horrified. “Breeding pups
for this shipping thing? But the pups aren’t provided for, so die. Breeding
pups deliberately to die?”
“I don’t know what they have to gain from all this . . . what would they need
dead pups for? Who’d be buying them?” Bucky looked back down at the plans of
the brothel, pale eyes intense as if he’d find the answers he sought if he just
looked hard enough.
“To use for body parts or testing chemicals?” Tony asked from the other end of
the table, watching the pair in obvious wonder for their non-stop stamina.
Looking up at the inventor, Bucky didn’t seem to care about the human’s ogling,
“but who’d be in the market for vampyre pups?”
“Hydra?” Tony offered, “Shield? Anyone human that want to learn their anatomy?
Vampir who want to feed them to their zombies? Collectors?”
With each suggestion a shudder ran right through Steve.
“We need to ask Fury about this,” Bucky stated with a firm nod.
“Collectors? Do people really want to collect dead pups? What? To show them to
friends?” Steve shook his head, large blue eyes washing with tears as he
recalled little Winnie. “That’s disgusting!”
Steve’s thought of Winnie reached Bucky through their bond and the Omega let
out a small whimper, hanging his head. His arm wrapped tighter around the pup-
bump.
Cuddling his mate, Steve kissed Bucky’s neck, first on the new mate mark then
on the older one. “I love you, Bucky,” he murmured.
Tony shook his head. “I’ve never met one, but I hear things. People, of any
race, will buy anything, even disgusting, immoral things.” He leaned forward.
“And it never hurts despite how large he is?” Tony shook his head, brown eyes
rounded in wonder.
“Hurts if I’m not prepared,” Bucky answered in honesty, not seeing a reason why
he shouldn’t answer Tony’s questions, even if they were a bit personal. Tony
had saved both their lives twice already, so the Omega would answer anything he
could.
“Huh,” Tony nodded. “I’ve seen his size. I think any normal human couldn’t
handle that. So, when you became a vampyr and can now get pregnant, did that
make it so he can fit?” Tony asked his questions eagerly, always curious,
trying to get the information before Pepper returned and cut him off for being
crude again.
Bucky winced, remembering his own brutal conversion, how his torn and bleeding
passage had literally healed around Steve’s large erection. The brunet would
never forget the searing, all-encompassing pain of his mate entering him for
the first time, the instant ripping of his muscles and skin. Bucky had never
told Steve, they never really talked about that first time, leaving it a silent
dark spot on their relationship.
Steve kissed Bucky’s hair and stroked it again, less uncomfortable with Tony’s
curious questions than the troubling idea that someone would collect dead pups
or breed them to die on purpose. Tony, to Steve, acted like an over-curious
newborn trying to find his way in the world after rebirth. Of course, no one
had any intention of converting Tony or his household; it was better to leave
as many different species on the planet as possible for diversity. Steve might
like having trustworthy friends around but he was one of those rare vampyres
that didn’t mind if they were from the other races, too.
“When a newborn converts, he or she will convert to accommodate the sire’s
body, even a male will grow or shift to accommodate a female sire. I do not
understand all of the biology of the conversion. It does mean, however, that
Bucky and I are perfectly matched now.”
Bucky continued to look down at the plans; he didn’t want to look up at Tony.
He even pulled slightly away from Steve, straightening his spine so his back no
longer leaned against his Alpha’s chest.
Steve instantly frowned but didn’t tug Bucky back, letting him have his space.
Buck? Shall I tell Tony to mind his own race?
No, he doesn’t mean any offense. I - - I’m just sensitive right now. Do pups
mess with Omega’s hormones? Bucky tried to play his reaction off as a joke,
something more lighthearted than being lost in the remembrance of his own rape.
Non stop, love. Steve reassured him. You’ll go from happy to sad to angry to
withdrawn in the matter of seconds at times. As long you are, recall that I am
here for you, my love, you should be fine. We can pull through the rough parts
together. Steve smiled to his mate. I am sorry I hurt you so badly on
conversion. Steve revealed he could sense Bucky’s thoughts even stronger now
that they’d been through that life and near re-death experience.
Bucky winced again, sorry . . . you weren’t supposed to - - sense that?
Sighing softly, Steve said, I’m sorry. I wasn’t prying, You feel mental pain
whenever conversion is mentioned, and I know I tore you very badly. I cannot
forget the sickening feeling. He hesitated then reached out to touch Bucky’s
dark curls gently. I would never have been able to if I hadn’t know you would
heal fully.
Nodding, Bucky didn’t verbally or mentally respond to what Steve had said, just
continued to look down at the plans. He didn’t want to make his Alpha feel
guilty or upset; Steve had done what had been necessary to save his life. This
time wasn’t supposed to be about him; they had to figure out who wanted dead
pups and why.
Steve took the chance on stroking Bucky’s back again, making a mental note to
discuss this further with Bucky when all the confusion and anxiety of the pup
and their mission had ended. He wanted Bucky to always be happy, but was
practical enough to know that wasn’t a reasonable dream: reality would always
interfere. Pointing to the blueprints, Steve said, “sleeping chambers. They’re
huge. This must be where the dams are kept?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we gotta get them out, Steve. No dam would willingly let
their pup die . . . at least, I don’t think so.” The brunet could remember his
pain when he lost Winnie, a pain he still felt everyday, just like Riley had
said he would.
“No, Buck, you’re instincts are correct. No dam willingly gives up a pup. A dam
would rather die than let a pup die.” Steve stroked Bucky’s hair a third time,
trying to get him to relax back again. “So, whoever is doing this must either
be sneaking the pups out with deception or sheer brute force. Either the dams
don’t know what’s being done or can’t stop it . . . or both. And who would be
impregnating so many dams? That’s either a harem or a pup mill.”
“It has to be Alphas,” Bucky growled, baring his fangs.
The large blond nodded. “The only ones who can control that many . . . my god,
do you think someone is deliberately creating and impregnating newborns? And
actual harem?”
“Harem?” Tony asked, content to jump on the new subject since the last one had
even made him feel the uncomfortable air about the pair. “Like a group of wives
for one husband style harem?”
“Similar. A vampyre harem is a group of newborns specifically created by one
sire for the purposes of control, sex, and power,” Steve answered.
Bucky growled low, an intimidating, angry noise. He pushed off Steve’s lap with
a shove, the Omega quickly fastened his pants again as he began to pace.
Slowly, Steve tucked himself away and fastened the fall of his trousers. He
stayed in his chair, watching his mate carefully. Softly, he asked, Bucky? Talk
to me, please? What’s going on in that pretty mind?
Why don’t you just look and find out, Bucky snapped, but instantly he flinched
at the harshness in his own tone, sorry . . . that was unfair of me.
Nodding, accepting the apology instead of forgiving it outright, Steve let
Bucky have his anger and his apology. I never meant to look in your mind
unwelcomed, my love. I’ll try not to do that again. He continued watching his
love.
No, it’s fine, Steve . . . really, I didn’t mean to snap at you, Bucky sighed
and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. He hated this
roller coaster of emotions he seemed to be on. He felt like he had no control
over himself.
I pushed a bad subject at the wrong time. We’ll discuss it later, when the
pup’s been born and you feel yourself, okay? For now, if you’ll tell me your
thoughts about this mission, I would appreciate it. You don’t have to open up,
Bucky, you are free to your privacy. Steve tried to sooth the other man,
ignoring Tony who watched on the edge of his seat, apparently realizing
something unspoken happened before him.
“I - - I . . .” Bucky’s eyes flickered to Tony and then back to Steve, I’m
afraid Steve. Norman Osborn nearly compelled me when he attacked. Whoever this
Alpha is . . . he’ll be a lot stronger . . . what if he takes control of me?
This was the first time he’d even told Steve that Norman had tried to tried to
compel him, let alone that Bucky had almost obeyed another Alpha.
“Please, come here, Buck?” Steve requested out loud, refusing to compel his
troubled mate. He held out his hands, not undressing, signaling he wanted to
cuddle not feed.
Bucky walked back over and sat back down on his mate’s lap, tucking his head
under Steve’s chin, releasing a deep breath.
“Could you tell me about the forced compelling, baby? What did he say or do
precisely?” Steve stroked Bucky’s short curls, letting the soft hair curl
around his strong fingers.
“After I had tackled him out the window . . . he - -” Bucky took a steadying
breath, “he growled, his tone was like yours . . . maybe a bit more bitter, but
he ordered ‘back off, bitch’.” The Omega tried to suppress another growl at the
memory.
“And what did you do, sweet one?” Steve asked patiently. He knew if they could
tear this apart and study it, they might find a way for Bucky to avoid it
happening again. It was rare, but not unheard of, for non-clan Alphas to compel
newborns or fledglings in heat.
“I didn’t . . . I told him that he didn’t compel me . . . and then you know
what happened next,” Bucky answered, nuzzling his face in the crook of Steve’s
neck, scenting his Alpha’s strong, reassuring scent.
“When he tried his stupid, selfish attempt, were you hungry or lusting, Buck?
Those things can make you weaker to resist.” Steve stroked his lover’s
beautiful hair, patiently trying to find the trigger and the solution.
“Well, it was just after the contradicting orders . . .” Bucky said softly.
“That makes perfect sense,” Steve breathed, relief washing over him. “I
confused you and you needed a solid order to follow. Not that an Omega or youth
needs an order, Bucky, but orders tend to calm its mind. Give it something to
latch onto and do. My mixed orders left you in turmoil and suddenly you heard a
solid order.” Steve smiled and dropped a kiss on Bucky’s head. “So, what made
you decide not to obey, my precious one?”
“You, Steve,” Bucky answered in a near whisper, “you’re the only one to compel
me . . . no one else gets that right.”
“So, when he tried, you nearly obeyed but . . . realized it wasn’t me? What
exactly, Buck? If we can figure this out, we know how to stop it in the future
. . . and so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” The blond touched his
hair and shifted his kiss to the brunet's slender neck.
“It wasn’t that I realized Norman wasn’t you . . . it - -” Bucky sighed,
struggling to find the words to explain, he tucked himself further into Steve.
“I don’t know . . .” the Omega let out a small, frustrated growl, “I don’t
know, Steve.”
“Did you get tempted because it was an Alpha or because his voice was near to
mine?” Steve asked steadily, dropping another gentle kiss on Bucky’s empty
shoulder.
Bucky thought about that, quiet for a few long moments before saying, “he did
sound like you . . . close enough to confuse me.”
Steve nodded. “Did you want to practice with Johnny trying to compel you and
you resisting?”
“Would he be comfortable doing that? Would you be okay with it?” Bucky asked,
not lifting his head.
Petting Bucky’s hair, the large blond finally turned his mate's face to meet
his eyes with a gentle smile. “I can ask him, Buck. I want you to be confident
and comfortable. If practicing denying a comple from someone will help, I’ll be
pleased to help you. Even if that means not following my compels anymore, I’ll
do it. Buck, compelling is a sire’s way of keeping a newborn, fledgling, or
youth from doing foolish, dangerous things. You are more mature than most and
compelling isn’t really necessary for you.”
Nodding, Bucky said, “I want to do it.”
Steve kissed Bucky’s lips briefly. “If Johnny agrees, we’ll practice it before
the next mission okay? If he doesn’t agree, maybe Sam will help or Riley?”
“Riley would be able to do it? He’s an Omega?” Bucky looked up at Steve with
confused eyes.
“He’s a very mature vampyre, Bucky, and might know ways to get past the Omega-
Omega relationship. I don’t know, but he might have ideas, too, if we need
them.” Steve stroked Bucky’s cheek with one thick finger. “I want to find ways
to help you through this.”
Releasing another shaky breath. Bucky nodded again, “we should go talk to Fury
. . . then we can get back home to ask Johnny.”
“Agreed,” Steve kissed Bucky’s neck again. “Are you in need of energy, Buck?”
“No,” Bucky said, “that last feeding was plenty,” the brunet laughed, shooting
Tony a quick wink before sliding off his Alpha.
Finally, Steve rose to his feet. “Tony, if you can keep the house open for us,
please? I do not know if we will need to come here in a hurry from this
meeting.”
The inventor reached over for the blueprints and notes. “Sure. We’ll be
unlocked, just come right in and help yourself to a loud romp in the hall if
you want. The room will be open for you, too.” The dark-haired man started
perusing the papers he’d been denied thus far.
“Thank you, Tony,” Bucky said and offered his hand to Steve, “shall we go,
Alpha?”
Slipping his hand around Bucky’s securely, the big blond smiled, eyes
crinkling. “Always with you, wherever you go, my love.” He turned and walked
his mate from the house but allowed Bucky the lead so they could get to their
destination quickly.
Bucky slowed to a stop just as they rounded a corner of a residential street,
oil lamps lighting the cobblestone streets. The vampyre looked around, relieved
to see that there weren’t any humans taking a late-night stroll. Looking over
at Steve, the brunet gestured towards the house at the end on the street, the
only yard that was overgrown with news sheets littering the paved walkway to
the front door.
With a nod and a smile for his mate, the Alpha stepped forward, his senses on
high alert. Carefully he approached the house but went to the servant’s door
rather than the front entrance, which meant he missed the entire front walkway
and anything that might be hidden under those papers and weeds. Lifting a hand,
Steve a gave a firm, confident knock, as if he belonged visiting this shabby
human habitation. Carefully, politely, he said, “Hello, Nick, I am here to
discuss our friendship. I am Steve.” He didn’t dare give away too much so had
to make his greeting a bit briefer than he preferred.
Steve, this isn’t a vampyre house, Bucky warned, eyeing the door warily as he
stepped closer to his mate.
Do you think a polite greeting was the wrong approach, Bucky? Steve asked.
This is Nick Fury we’re talking about . . . now he just knows there are some
outsiders standing outside his servant’s entrance door, Bucky looked around,
eyes catching on a thin wire connecting the door knob and a gleaming blade
hidden in the eave of the entrance, we aren’t going in this way. Looks like he
was expecting someone. The Omega pointed to the trap.
If he does not trust anyone, how do his own people report to him? Steve frowned
softly, waiting where he was. He had alerted the house of his presence and
wanted to see how they would react, though he kept well away from the range of
that blade he noted through his connection with his mate.
Bucky stepped back slightly to take in more of the building, his pale eyes
searched every part of the home, searching for weaknesses or entry points.
Finally the back door opened, around the far corner. A dark-skinned man with a
long greatcoat over his hard-weather wear and finely crafted books stepped onto
the dead lawn. He crossed his arms, standing tall and frowning fiercely. His
left eye was hidden by a dark patch of cloth bound over his socket. Everything
about this man screamed control, discipline, and disapproval. If he were a
vampyre, he’d no doubt be a powerful Alpha. “I don’t know a Steve.”
The Omega watched the man carefully, studying him, watching his every movement.
He stood far back enough that he could watch the entire exchange, but close
enough to pounce on the hunter if he went after Steve.
“I am Steve, and I believe we have reason to be friends. We appear to have a
common . . . adversary,” Steve carefully chose the words.
After glaring over the two men, Nick nodded briefly and turned back to the rear
door. “Why don’t we get out of this chill. My old bones are aching.”
Carefully, Steve led Bucky after the human hunter. Once they were inside, the
door shut behind the vampyre pair and Fury turned to them, quiet people in the
shadows watching but not approaching just yet.
Bucky’s eyes nervously flickered around the room, his fingers tapping against
his thigh.
“Been a long time, Soldier,” Fury said, eye on Steve rather than Bucky. “Seems
I remember you turning me down last time I asked you to be my friend.”
“I’m not the Soldier anymore,” Bucky answered, still looking around the room,
trying to determine how many people were in the room, how many threats
surrounded him.
“I’d think not,” Fury answered in a clipped tone. “Looks like you joined your
enemy and got domesticated.”
The Omega snarled lightly, gold eyes flashing as his head snapped back to look
at the leader of Shield. “I was wrong about who the enemy was,” Bucky snapped,
fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
“No shit,” Fury said, looking unimpressed with the small display of anger.
“Took finding yourself almost dead and in need of rescue to realize who the
real enemy was? The ones who put you there?”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his hand clenching into a fist as he fought the urge to
pounce. Fucking hormones . . .
Natural, Buck. He knew Hydra was the enemy all along? Steve tried to focus his
mate.
Probably, wouldn’t surprise me, Bucky answered, eyes starting to look around
the room again.
“So, we just gonna make eyes at each other, or you gonna tell me why you came
here, Not-the-Soldier.” Nick continued to frown.
“We are bringing down Hydra,” Bucky answered in a determined tone, eyes meeting
with Fury’s again.
“And how do you plan to take them down?” Nick asked, nodding once. His people
shifted, the atmosphere still watchful but more relaxed.
Bucky looked over to Steve.
“We plan to destroy any facility we find, rescue the victims, and kill any of
their abominations. We already know of two vampyres who are aiding them, and
suspect there may be more. It would be ideal for those traitors to be brought
to justice, but I will not balk if the necessity arises for disposal instead.”
Steve crossed his own large arms over his broad chest, meeting Nick’s serious,
dominant attitude with his own strong Alpha response.
“So, why come to me?” Nick glared from the tall blond to the almost as tall
brunet, his own great height and weight almost on a par with Steve’s impressive
build.
“You know more about Hydra than I do,” Bucky pointed out, wrapping his arm
around himself, “you’d know exactly what facilities to hit . . . plus you owe
me a favor, I’m coming to collect.” The brunet tried to regain some of his old
confidence, his hunter swagger, but the statement fell somewhat flat.
“You really gonna play that card before you hear my response?” Nick raised his
eyebrow. “Usually you tug the favor rope if you get refused, Barnes.”
Bucky shrugged, “Never did think things though.”
“If you had, you might have remained complete.” Nick let his arms drop loose
and easy, indicating he wasn’t considering being a threat at the moment. “So,
you want me to tell you where to go and who to hurt? You want forces to back
you up or lead your own? What?”
The brunet’s hand traveled up to his empty left shoulder, he tried to appear
unfazed by the comment but Steve could feel the embarrassment through their
bond.
You are far deadlier now than before, Buck, so being one-armed must be a bonus,
love, Steve told him mentally.
Bucky’s eyes fell and he nodded once, though the Omega had lost some of his
confidence he’d been trying to build up. Why had he thought coming to Nick Fury
would’ve been a good idea?
Bucky, tell him we want to work as a team, his information and people with
ours. And maybe ask about the harem? The pup mill? Steve prompted.
“We want to work as a team, your information and people with ours,” Bucky
echoed immediately, words rushing together to complete the direct order, the
brunet blinked once when he’d realized what had happened. He flushed as he knew
his words had come out flat, almost robotic.
He hated taking control like this, but Steve had felt Bucky’s drop in self-
confidence. It was something they’d have to work on. Nicky Fury apparently
intimidated the pregnant Omega.
An intense look crossed Nick’s face and he turned his glare on Steve, studying
him with a look mixed of disapproval and distrust. He crossed his arms once
more. “And what do you say, Barnes? Not your damn vampyre master?”
Bucky flinched, whole body cringing; he cleared his throat and refused to look
at Steve, “We need your help with taking out the facilities, back up would be
appreciated. We promise a truce on our end if you do.” The Omega was mortified
that the hunter knew that Steve had just compelled him, and the brunet felt a
twinge of anger at his Alpha for doing so in front of a room full of hunters.
Steve flushed and actually dropped his head at the insult.
Nick seemed satisfied that he’d cowed the vampyre and turned fully to Bucky.
“You can promise a truce for all the vampyres or just your group?” His tone
sounded disdainful.
“I cannot speak for my species as a whole, but I can promise that anyone living
under our roof will not attack your hunters,” Bucky still didn’t look at his
mate.
“If your hunters don’t attack us,” Steve added, lifting his head.
A snort escaped the human leader and he stared at the pair of vampyrs. Slowly,
he asked, “you mentioned a pair of vampyre traitors? Would that be Johann
Rogers and Alexander Pierce?” The dark man seemed to prefer talking to Bucky
rather than Steve.
“Yes,” Bucky answered, “we believe Johann to be leaving humans for dead after
he feeds off them. And Pierce . . .” the brunet snarled and met Fury’s eyes,
“he is a true monster.”
Steve spoke again. “We have a survivor that claims Johann slaughtered at least
one entire house of vampyres, as well. And he possibly was behind the slaughter
of several more houses, leaving the dying to die slowly, including a pregnant
dam and his pup.”
Fury looked over his shoulder. “Hill,” he said, tone still severe,
disapproving.
“Yes, sir?” A tall, short-haired brunet woman stepped out of the shadows,
casting a cautious glare at the two vampyres.
“Find out what these two know about our adversary and aid them in their
mission. We’ve just made a working truce with the house of Steve Rogers.” Fury
never took his eyes of the vampyres. “Might wanna work on communication, there,
Rogers. Questions are better than orders.”
Steve flushed red, the blush creeping down his body and turning his ears almost
purple red. The blond kept his arms folded defensively over his chest, not
looking at anyone, eyes fixed on the far wall. “Thank you for your agreement
and truce. We should meet with the rest of the house and Tony Stark, who’s our
other ally.” With that, Steve turned and walked out, leaving Bucky in the room
as he stepped out the rear door into the cool night air, hands clenched under
his folded arms.
Bucky released a sigh and nodded at Fury, “thank you, Nick.”
Fury nodded back. “He can be taught, if you got the patience, Barnes.” The tall
dark-skinned man turned to his partner, Maria Hill, to discuss things quietly,
the name of Tony foremost in the whispered remarks.
The Omega let himself out of home; he didn’t even look for Steve, knowing the
blond was somewhere close. He still felt the irritation and embarrassment from
the public compelling. The vampyre headed in the direction of the Rogers’
mansion, choosing to walk at a normal pace.
Staying back and out of the way, Steve followed at a reasonable pace, not
speaking or even sharing his thoughts or emotions. He felt like a cold, blank
slate.
Steve’s closed off mind only served to make Bucky even more angry; he wasn’t
the one that had been forced to display how little control Bucky had over
himself, in front of a room of hunters, no less. The Omega shoved his hand in
his coat pocket and shook his head, his anger obvious to anyone who passed.
Finally, the dam broke, only about halfway home; the brunet whirled around with
a snarl and seethed, “what the fuck is your problem?” The Omega couldn’t even
speak telepathically to his mate.
Steve stepped out of the shadows to face his mate, his eyes large and vivid
blue, anger threaded through them. His face remained stony, impassive, though
his eyes gave enough away. Steve was definitely displeased.
“Fine. Be fucking silent. See if I fucking care,” Bucky growled and then
continued walking.
Pressing his lips closed since his mate hadn’t given him the chance to even
answer, Steve merely followed once more.
Bucky made it to the mansion and stomped up the steps; wrenching the door open,
the brunet stepped inside, making sure to slam it before Steve could follow him
in.
Frowning at the door he’d practically run into, Steve shook his head and turned
off to go to the servant’s entrance instead. He let himself in the mansion and
headed down to the vaults.
The Omega hurried up the stairs, ignoring any curious looks from his house
guests, and slipped into the bedroom. Bucky’s body practically vibrated with
anger, his hand running through his short hair, tugging at it desperately.
A soft knock sounded on the door but no one called out to warn who was calling
or why.
Bucky didn’t answer the knock; he’d assumed the person on the other side of the
door was Steve, only his mate would knock without announcing himself. The Omega
just continued to pace, running his fingers through his hair.
The knock came again, but the person didn’t even attempt the doorknob, just
knocking.
Growling, the furious Omega turned to look at the door, “either come in or stop
fucking knocking!”
The door opened at that and Clint walked in. He closed the door behind him and
climbed onto the bed, getting comfortable. “How’d the meeting with Shield go?”
the former Shield hunter asked.
“Perfect. Fantastic. Fury will help us,” Bucky said sharply, returning to his
aggravated pacing.
“Fury’s an ass,” Clint agreed with a snort. “Did a fair job pissing you two
off, didn’t he?”
“Oh, Steve doesn’t need any help in that field,” Bucky growled low, his eyes
flashing. The Omega was angry about the compelling, furious even, but what
bothered him most was that Steve had closed him off after it’d happened.
Closing off his mind and not allowing Bucky entry, that felt like the ultimate
betrayal.
“Ah, so the honeymoon’s over?” Clint commented. “Now the cracks start appearing
for you two to try to work on?” He stretched out on Bucky’s bed, hugging a
pillow to his pup-bump.
“He’s such a fucking hypocrite, ya know?” Bucky began ranting, never having
been able to speak so freely.
“How so?” Clint asked, sounding like he was intrigued by the idea.
“He wants me to be open, to say what’s bothering me. But the second he gets
upset, he builds up his fucking walls. It’s not fair,” Bucky sneered, shaking
his head.
“Nope, sounds like he’s either pissed at you for something, or pissed at
himself and doesn’t wanna share it.” Clint nodded, rolling to his back to look
up at the canopy over the bed. “So, this typical of him? He ever close himself
off after some kind of problem?”
“Only once,” Bucky answered, “but this is nothing like the last time. So, he
must be mad at me for some reason.”
Clint turned his head to look at Bucky. “Oh? So he closed off before? Why?”
Bucky huffed and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it in his frustration,
“because I pushed him away when he tried to kiss me. I was too livid.”
“So he got mad at being refused?” Clint sniffed in what sounded like
disapproval.
“No,” Bucky amended, “he closed off because he forced himself on me, were his
exact words. But he didn’t do that this time.”
Clint rolled to his side and watched Bucky. “He didn’t?”
“No,” Bucky said.
“So, what did happen? Because Fury can ruffle anyone’s feathers. He get Steve
angry and Steve take it out on you?” Clint asked, curious and sounding a bit
worried.
Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed again, he just wanted to be mad . . . he
didn’t want to puzzle through what had made Steve so angry. He knew Clint meant
well, and if the brunet Omega was calmer he’d be able to appreciate the blond’s
concern. He didn’t feel like explaining what Steve had done at Fury’s; Bucky
had seen Clint and Natasha interact. Natasha was not afraid to compel her
Omega, so Clint most likely wouldn’t see a problem with it anyway.
“Ah,” Clint said and rolled over on his back once more, hand covering his baby
bump. “Laura used to get mad at me and refuse to talk, too,” he said looking
back up at the canopy.
“It’s maddening,” Bucky sighed and sank to the floor, bringing his knees to his
chest.
“Yeah, I hate it when someone gets mad at me and won’t explain or try to talk
or anything. I don’t know how to fix it and I’m not sure how to stop it in the
future, you know?” Clint caressed his hand lightly over his abdomen.
Sighing again, Bucky nodded and rested his chin on his knees. He enjoyed the
silence that followed; he gave up on trying to figure out what he’d done to
make Steve close off. The Omega figured he must’ve done something, and
eventually his Alpha would tell him. Steve was stronger than Bucky and could
keep the brunet shut out for as long as he wanted. Bucky refused to ponder it
any longer.
Finally, Clint broke the companionable silence again. “So, you pissed off at
him, too?”
“Yeah,” Bucky answered honestly, “I think I may have slammed the door on his
face?”
“You tell him? Yell at him?” Clint glanced over. “Let Nick yell at him?” The
blond grinned. “Slammed the door in his face? Good job!” Clint snickered.
“‘Course that may be why he came in the back door.”
A small smirk graced Bucky’s face, but the expression quickly faded away, “oh,
yeah. I yelled at him because he wasn’t talking to me or letting me . . . talk
to him.” The brunet knew the others didn’t know about Steve and him being able
to communicate with their minds.
“Sounds like he threw a major tantrum,” Clint said, still grinning.
Bucky let out a bitter laugh, “I guess he kind of did.”
“And he’s probably pouting it out, maybe?” Clint added. “So, is Fury gonna help
us?” he asked, as if dismissing Steve from his mind.
“Said he was,” Bucky shrugged, laying back on the soft rug, looking up at the
ceiling.
“Huh, wouldn’t have expected him to give in to vampyres quick. Must’ve had some
kind of demands. Try to direct the way the meeting went, at least?” Clint
prompted.
“Yeah, I guess? We have a truce with his hunters, as long as they don’t attack
us, we don’t attack them . . . plus, he owed me a favor,” Bucky shrugged and
let his eyes trace the delicate lines of the ceiling, his hand caressing the
swell of his abdomen.
“Fury ask about why you left Hydra?” Clint asked.
“Not really,” Bucky sighed, wishing they could go back to their comfortable
silence.
Snorting, Clint chuckled, “He was nosier when I worked for him then.” He
stretched like a contented cat. “So, how’d the mission to the tunnels go?”
Bucky groaned, “Clint . . . I like you a lot, but can you please stop asking
questions?”
A soft frown fell on the man’s face and he looked at Bucky. “Answer another
question and I’ll shut up.”
Rolling his eyes, Bucky propped himself up to look over at the stocky blond,
one brow raised expectantly.
“Think maybe Steve’s mad at himself for whatever happened and not ready to talk
about it? Like when you refused his kiss?” The stocky blond looked over at
Bucky. “He strikes me as the self-abusive type, you know?” The man rolled from
the bed and stretched. “Well, I’ll let you have some silence.” He tossed the
pillow back to the bed and headed for the door.
Bucky sighed and laid back down, continuing to trace the patterns of the
ceiling. He didn’t know how long he laid there, his eyes never moving from the
space above him. He could feel himself starting to get hungry, but he didn’t
make any move to find Steve; just continued lying on the hard floor. Steve
would find him when he was ready.
Several hours passed without anyone coming to disturb the Omega. Perhaps Clint
had told them Bucky didn’t want visitors. That also meant no one would be
checking to see if he’d been fed, probably assuming Steve would be glued to his
side like usual.
The brunet groaned and sat up, his muscles aching and head feeling a little
fuzzy. The Omega crawled over to the bed and hauled himself on the soft
mattress, he refused to be the one to seek out Steve, and he didn’t want to go
begging the next available person like a greedy newborn. Bucky was known to be
incredibly stubborn, after all, and he proved that fact right as he nuzzled the
pillow and forced his hunger to the back of his mind.
It was another hour before the door opened softly and Steve walked in, shutting
the door behind him. He began undressing without a single word, not even
looking at his mate.
Bucky felt like crying. His Alpha had never been this distant and the brunet
still couldn’t feel his mate’s emotions through their bond, resurfacing that
anger he thought he’d pushed away. Stubbornly, the Omega refused to be the one
to speak first; he just shoved his face deeper into the pillow and turned away
from the blond.
Finally, Steve eased onto the bed and took a slow breath. His voice sounded
pained and soft as he asked “May I feed you?”
“Go ahead,” Bucky answered sharply, focusing on the wall in front of him. He
unbuckled his belt and unfastened his button. With harsh movements, the Omega
pulled down his pants and underwear until they rested halfway down his thighs.
His mate waited until Bucky was done before standing up and moving into the
other room. He returned not even a minute later and positioned himself behind
the brunet, sliding into him, his member slick even though Bucky wasn’t. He
took up a steady pace, deep and strong but not hurried.
Bucky didn’t react to the feeding, letting his body simply move with Steve’s
thrusts, eyes focusing on the wall.
It took some time before Steve managed to release his life-seed and energy into
his lover, burying his face in the brunet’s shoulder, wet with tears. He didn’t
knot and he only stayed inside long enough to finish the feeding. Finally, he
pulled out and got cloths to clean the Omega up. Steve washed off carefully and
dressed once more. He headed for the door.
Pulling up his underwear and pants, Bucky bit on his arm to keep the sob he
felt bubbling up inside him in check. The brunet felt his teeth sink into his
flesh and his body convulsed with the single, silent sob.
As he paused in front of the door, back to his miserable mate, Steve took a
deep, very shaky breath. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, Bucky. I’d ask for a
surrogate if I thought it’d help. I’ll try to leave you in peace.” He walked
out, shutting the door.
As the door clicked, Bucky let go of his arm, gold energy oozing from the small
puncture wounds, and let his tears and sobs go freely. He clutched at Steve’s
pillow, burying his head into the strong scent of his Alpha.
Steve came back every hour throughout the night and day to feed his mate and
pup for ten to fifteen minutes, asking politely if he might feed them before
approaching further than the door, always slipping into the other room before
returning already slick. Bucky reacted just as lifelessly as the first time,
accepting the feeding; he never said anything other than accepting his mate’s
offer. The brunet didn’t change out of his clothes or even leave the bed; he
seemed to be slipping into a similar state as to when he lost Winnie.
After several hours of this had gone by, the door opened very shortly after
Steve had left once more. Walking softly across the room, the figure sank next
to Bucky and placed a calloused, slender hand on the back of his neck and
started feeding him an unfamiliar yet very strong energy.
Sniffling, eyes washed with tears, Bucky turned to look over at the newcomer,
“Riley?”
“Riley,” the Wilson answered.
A new wave of tears spilled from the Omega’s eyes and he wrapped his arm around
Riley, burying his face into his friend’s chest. His body shook with the force
of his sobs, the sounds echoing down the hall.
Riley continued to feed his friend, holding him and rocking gently. He kissed
Bucky’s head gently. “You aren’t alone, Bucky. I’m here,” he said softly.
Bucky curled up into Riley’s lap, making himself as small as possible, his head
tucked firmly under the other Omega’s chin. His hand gripped at the blond’s
shirt, as if the fabric was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He
continued to cry.
Softly, after some time, Riley asked, “can you tell me why Steve submitted
himself to Natasha for punishment for abusing you, Bucky? How did he hurt you?”
Pulling away, eyes wide, Bucky gasped between sobs, “he - - he . . . what?”
Riley met Bucky’s eyes. “Steve came in an hour ago and asked the senior house
members to meet, Natasha, Sam, Johnny, T’Challa and I. He said he’d abused you
and was aware he couldn’t get you a surrogate because of your relationship with
him so he was submitting himself for punishment, starting with giving up his
leadership.” Riley stroked Bucky’s hair. “What happened? What did he do,
sweetie?”
“He - - he . . . com - - compelled me at F - - Fury’s . . . th - - then he shut
me . . . out,” Bucky looked at Riley . . . Steve gave up his leadership?
“What did he compel you to do, Bucky?” Riley asked, still very gently.
“To - - to tell Fury - - what . . . what we needed. I - - I got . . .
embarrassed because of my . . . arm. But - - he wouldn’t talk to me afterwards
. . . he shut me out, Riley! I - - I couldn’t feel anything . . .” Bucky
whimpered, arm wrapping around himself.
Puzzled, Riley looked like he tried to think through Steve’s reasoning. Hugging
Bucky close, Riley asked, “did you fight with him about the compelling? I’m
having trouble understanding why he would shut you out after compelling you to
talk.”
“I don’t know!” Bucky sobbed, hanging his head and looking absolutely
miserable, “I don’t know! Riley . . . I’ve never not felt him . . . I - - It
hurts without him.”
Nodding, the blond said, “he must have cut you off for a reason. Did you
disobey or argue with him? Did what he compel you to do hurt you or make things
worse?”
“Fury knew what had happened. Snapped at Steve . . .” Bucky muttered, wiping at
his face.
“And did Fury interfere with you two?” Riley stroked Bucky’s tangled curls
gently.
“He wouldn’t really look at Steve after that . . . called him my master or
something . . .” Bucky sighed and leaned his forehead against Riley’s shoulder.
Wincing, the stocky blond sighed. “As in slave master?”
Bucky nodded against the blond’s shoulder, letting out a small whimper.
“Did anything else happen between Steve being accused of making you a slave and
his cutting you off?” Riley asked softly.
“I - - I yelled at him? I was so mad that he wasn’t talking to me . . .” Bucky
lifted his head and looked back at his friend.
“Did you yell at him in front of Fury?” Riley questioned, meeting Bucky’s eyes
with sympathetic blue ones.
Bucky shook his head wildly, “no! I wouldn’t do that! It was on the street . .
. halfway between here and Fury’s place.”
“Did Fury interfere any other way, Bucky? Say anything?” Riley stroked the
curls and watched his miserable friend.
“Said somethin’ about questions being better than orders?” Bucky offered, the
red of his eyes making his icy irises stand out more.
Nodding, as if he understood at least something, Riley said, “If Fury knew
Steve had compelled you and attacked Steve, verbally, for being a slave master,
then belittled him by suggesting a better way Steve could approach you . . . I
think I understand why Steve thought he’d abused you.” Riley sighed and shook
his head.
“Did they punish him?” Bucky asked softly, barely a whisper.
“No, they sent me to hear your side before deciding what to do, actually.
Natasha has him on trial.” Riley gently stroked Bucky’s hair. “An abuse of a
fledgling is a serious offense, Bucky. Steve would know that since he’d been
abused as a newborn and fledgling, so bad he was nearly dead when they rescued
him.”
Bucky’s eyes brimmed with tears again, “but . . . he didn’t - - I woulda calmed
down . . . but he shut me out . . .”
“Does Steve apologize for compelling you?” Riley hazarded.
Nodding, Bucky ground the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to keep the
tears at bay, “he doesn’t like to do it.”
“It’s a common problem, actually, Bucky. An abused immature who manages to be
counseled at a safehouse and reintroduced as a mature into society . . . always
has guilty feelings for any little infraction or example of possible abuse,
even if it’s not. Steve needs more counseling I think. He’s falling back into
the guilty feeling from his youth. He thinks by compelling you, he’s abusing
you, and so has shut himself off so he doesn’t run the risk of accidentally
compelling you. He thinks this is an ongoing serious habit he’s developed and
is repressive and abusive for you.” The older vampyre shook his head. “What do
you want us to do to him?”?
Bucky seemed shocked by the question, “I don’t want you to do anything to him!”
“So, you don’t feel pain or abuse from him? Neglect?” Riley asked gently.
“I don’t like that he shut me out . . . but no - - he doesn’t abuse me,” Bucky
said firmly.
“Because between Johnny, Wanda, and I, we believe we can successfully feed you
and the pup, if that’s something that is holding you in a relationship you feel
pain in?” Riley stroked Bucky’s hair.
The brunet scrambled away from Riley, tumbling off the bed, “I don’t want to
leave Steve! Stop! Stop saying that!”
Finally using a firm voice, Riley said, “Bucky, listen to me.” He frowned.
Looking over at Riley with wide eyes, Bucky whimpered again and wrapped his arm
around himself.
“I think Steve hasn’t hurt you, either. But he is on trial and I have to give
you every chance to seek help if you are in trouble. I have to offer you
alternatives that might hold you back if you thought they couldn’t be met, thus
the offer of feedings. If you say you aren’t abused, I will bring you
downstairs and you can face the court and let them know. If you are abused,
there are other options for you.”
“I don’t wanna leave Steve,” Bucky whispered, “please? I don’t want to . . .”
Standing, Riley reached over and gently wrapped an arm around Bucky. “Let’s go
downstairs and explain to the court, okay?”
Bucky nodded and let Riley lead him out of the room.
Once they got downstairs, Riley led the messy Omega into the front drawing room
and sat him down. There was no sign of Steve, but the other senior members were
there: T’Challa, Natasha, Sam and Johnny. There was no sign of Wanda, so it as
safe to say that if she had really been involved, she was most likely keeping
an eye on Steve. Once seated, Riley turned to Natasha and said, “I’ve talked to
Bucky. He claims there is no abuse, just misunderstanding.”
Natasha looked at Bucky, her eyes trailing his disheveled appearance, “and what
misunderstanding was that?”
“From what I’ve gotten from Bucky, Steve compelled him publicly in front of at
least one human who was aware of what compelling was. The human accused Steve
of being a slave master then went on to instruct him how to handle his
fledgling with other methods than compelling. Steve cut himself off verbally
and emotionally from his Omega, I suspect to prevent further compelling of
accidental or intentional nature. Then he presented himself for punishment for
abusing his fledgling Omega, whom he was accused of treating like a slave.”
Riley met Natasha’s eyes directly. “I offered the alternative feeding we came
up with, but Bucky insists he was not abused and does not want a surrogate.”
“Bucky,” Natasha said, her tone soft but firm, “you need to be completely
honest here. This is the second time Steve has presented himself as an abuser,
plus being investigated by the council. Are you unhappy with your mate? Does he
cause you pain? Physical or emotional?”
The brunet Omega looked to Riley and then to Natasha; shaking his head, Bucky
answered, “he doesn’t abuse me. He never has abused me. Please, I don’t want to
leave him . . . I love him, please . . .”
Johnny cleared his throat. “May I make a suggestion?”
Natasha only nodded her approval.
“Steve and Bucky have a very complicated relationship in main part due to
Steve’s confusion and self-doubt. He’s a good leader, but lacks the confidence
in himself to care for someone one on one. Bucky has been independent, a
hunter, his entire life. He’s not used to following orders without free will,
so compelling is not easy for him.” The blond looked over at Bucky. “I suggest
Steve be ordered to always have his mate-bond opened. He is not permitted, and
neither is Bucky, to close it. I also suggest a high compel be put on Bucky,
one that prevents Steve or anyone less than a safehouse leader from compelling
Bucky. Steve will not be able to order him, and neither will most anyone else.
This may endanger Bucky, but he is more mature than most fledglings and I think
he can handle it. I suggest that they be ordered to talk about their feelings
daily, with a mediator if needed, and that Steve goes back through the immature
counselling so he gets a refresher on how to deal with his own abuse.” Johnny
finally stopped speaking.
Natasha looked impressed, she turned her eyes to T’Challa for his input.
“Wanda can compel him in such a way, but then after that, only you in the house
will be able to lift that order or compel him,” the dark-haired foreigner said.
He looked at Bucky. “Would this be acceptable to you?”
The brunet Omega nodded, wanting nothing more than to see Steve . . . get this
whole mess behind them.
Nodding, T’Challa turned to Natasha. “I agree with Storm’s suggestions,
Romanov. We should called in Steve and tell him the court’s decision, if you
agree with it.”
Natasha nodded, “I agree with it. Let’s bring him in.”
***** Of Memories and Realizations *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Nodding, T’Challa left the room, only to return rather quickly with Steve and
Wanda. He stepped away from the pair to let Natasha explain.
“Steve Rogers,” Natasha started, her emerald eyes staring intently at the
muscular blond, “your Omega has stated that there is no form of abuse going on
in your relationship. He wishes to stay with you even though he was given an
alternative option.”
Johnny stepped forward as the one who suggested the punishment. “You are both
forbidden to close yourselves off from one another ever again. You must remain
open to each other. This means you both give up your right to privacy with one
another. You are to discuss your feelings together daily, with a mediator if
needed. You, Steve Rogers, will be put back in safehouse immature counseling
for you continued trouble with determining abuse from normal behavior and
dealing with abuse from your past. This mission, we believe, has brought your
past to the fore and has confused you, but that will not be held against you .
. . abuse is never held against the victim. And, finally,” Johnny stared
straight at his original dam, “Wanda will compel Bucky to not be able to be
compelled by anyone less than an elder, a council member, a clan leader or a
safehouse leader. As you are a house leader, not a clan leader, you will be
unable to compel him even in the height of danger. Natasha is the only one in
this house with that capability.” He fell silent and looked back to Natasha so
she could explain Bucky’s choice and Steve’s non-choice.
Looking at Steve, Natasha said, “you are a good leader, Steve Rogers, and it is
quite clear you love your mate very much, and he loves you in return. It is
your own self-esteem issues that caused this misunderstanding to escalate to a
pregnant fledgling going unfed for several hours and you turning yourself in,
again, for punishment. Open contact is a must in your relationship, the only
person you hurt by shutting yourself off was your mate, Steve, do you
understand this?”
“Yes, Romanov,” Steve answered, his voice trembling.
“Good,” Natasha nodded, “it has also been decided that we will not be revoking
your household leadership. But if you shut your mate-bond off again, I will
submit you to the council, do you understand?”
Immediately, Bucky felt the bond open up, Steve’s guilt, shame, and misery very
evident. Nowhere was there any indication of anger or anything at Bucky, it was
all self-directed. “Yes, Romanov,” he choked back a sob.
“Good,” Natasha said, her eyes moving to Bucky again and then back to Steve,
“Wanda will do the compelling now and then you will take your mate upstairs,
clean him up, and feed him, is that clear, Rogers?”
“If Bucky agrees to the sentence, Romanov, yes,” Steve insisted.
Looking up at Natasha, Bucky nodded and agreed, “I want to do it, Romanov.”
Steve studied his beloved mate then turned back to Natasha and nodded,
straightening his back and shoulders, knowing he was giving up the power to
compel Bucky, even in an emergency. “Yes, Romanov, I understand and agree.”
Bucky straightened slightly in his seat, his pale eyes flicking from Steve to
Wanda . . . the last time she’d been inside his head, he’d felt nothing but
pain. The Omega’s tear-washed eyes settled on his mate, the fear and anxiety
obvious in both the bond and his eyes. He just wanted to go back to the room
and talk with Steve, be wrapped securely in those strong arms, and forget that
the last twenty-four hours ever happened.
Unable to resist his mate, Steve immediately, silently, went over to Bucky and
wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him close. “I’m sorry, Bucky,”
he murmured and buried his face in the man’s hair, breathing in the worried,
grieving scent of his precious Omega. Steve’s scent was equally frightened,
traumatized.
Don’t leave me? Bucky asked, leaning into the sturdy man with a shaky breath.
Nodding enthusiastically, Steve held him tighter. Never again, unless you tell
me to, Bucky. I swear it. I thought I was doing things right, but I messed up
so much.
A small stroking of gentle energy slid into Bucky from the back of his neck,
where Riley had fed him earlier. The same soft feeling seemed to encompass his
entire body and head, quickly but like a wash of warm rain. After a long,
peaceful moment, the brunet heard in his mind, Look at Romanov. The voice
sounded like Wanda whispering.
Bucky furrowed his brows, confused by the different voice inside his mind,
slowly the Omega turned to look at the red haired leader, his body still
pressed firmly against his mate’s.
A gentle surge of trust and understanding washed between Bucky and Natasha. It
felt right, natural. Then, the caressing rain feeling left and the energy at
his neck stopped, leaving only Steve, holding him and looking very worried.
Bucky blinked, looking over at Wanda, is it done?
She stepped back from him and offered a gentle smile of encouragement then
carefully gripped the back of Steve’s neck, her eyes lighting a bright scarlet
fire as she manipulated his inner controls as well. After a few minutes, she
stepped back again and nodded. Out loud she said, “It is done, Romanov. They
are still as close as ever, but the Omega will not feel compelled by the Alpha
. . . by any Alpha outside the Circle of Elders or yourself.”
Natasha nodded once, her lips in a firm line as she looked at Steve and Bucky;
her eyes seemed to study them for a few tense moments.
Softly, Steve said, “Norman tried to compel him and almost succeeded . . .” And
that had been the missing piece they had needed. Steve was afraid his bond
wasn’t true because someone else had almost compelled the pretty Omega.
“You do not believe you are true mates, Steve?” Natasha asked, quirking a brow.
Flushing and hanging his head, Steve answered, “how can I be if he can be
forced against his will to obey someone else?”
Bucky bit his lip to hold back a sob that was working its way up his throat; he
wrapped his arm around himself and the Omega started to tremble slightly.
“I never wanted to hurt Bucky, and if he needed someone better, stronger . . .”
Steve murmured, holding his mate close. “I don’t want to lose him.” HIs tone
took on a sense of despair. “He’s my entire life.”
Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose; taking a deep breath, she said as she
dropped her hand, “But Norman wasn’t able to perform the compelling was he?”
“Somehow my brilliant Omega managed to resist and then the kill happened,”
Steve confirmed, still holding Bucky close to his heart.
The safehouse leader looked to T’Challa and then to Riley, her green eyes
searching for answers from the two older vampyres.
T’Challa nodded. “That happens from time to time and is not due to the weakness
of the bond. Osborn had long been suspected of manipulating his energy to try
to duplicate Maximoff abilities. I believe we have the final evidence that he,
and probably his clan, have broken the laws and deliberately tampered with the
nature of our energy. Only someone with the mental abilities of a Maximoff or
perhaps a Summers could do such a heinous, offense attempt at a mind rape.”
Bucky pushed himself closer to Steve, almost as if trying to blend their bodies
together in desperation.
“Mind rape?” Steve breathed out, eyes widening. He whimpered and tucked Bucky
as close as he could.
Riley held up his hands. “The sentence is passed, Romanov. May they go bathe
and feed while we discuss this new crime? I believe I understand something I
need to discuss with you, T’Challa, and Wade.”
Nodding, Natasha gestured to Steve with a tilt of her chin, “you are dismissed
Steve Rogers.”
On that signal, Steve scooped his mate into his arms and carried Bucky from the
room, intent on providing for his neglected love.
Bucky keened and whimpered pitifully, nuzzling into his Alpha’s neck, breathing
in the scent of his world.
Riley turned to Sam, Wanda, and Johnny. “If you can send in Wade when you
leave, please?”
Surprised, Johnny bowed then left quickly, a frown on his face.
Wanda hurried out of the room; she had her own newborn to care for now.
Sam quirked a brow at his mate but bowed nonetheless. Giving Riley a passing
kiss to his temple the dark-skinned man left. Wade came in less than a minute
later.
“Wade,” Riley began. “I’ll try to be brief. When you came across Peter in his
half-state, why were you there?”
The bald man shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the question. “I
smelt the blood . . . I hadn’t fed in a few days and the smell was
overwhelming.”
“And when he did arrive, were you cognizant enough to notice if someone else
aside from the attacker and Peter were present?” Riley asked in a
straightforward manner.
Looking thoughtful for a moment, Wade’s eyes widened and he nodded, “yeah . . .
there was another guy there. Kinda standing off to the side, I assumed to
probably keep watch while Johann did his thing,” the end of the statement ended
in a growl.
Suddenly Riley’s eyes widened. “So, you recognized Johann Rogers?”
“Of course, I’m over three hundred years old. I know who Johann Rogers is,”
Wade answered.
Nodding, Riley prompted, “and did you recognize the man with him? The one
watching?”
“Nah,” Wade shook his head, “but his eyes were glowing this really, really
bright red color and sparks were coming from his hands.”
“Would you allow Wanda to see into your mind to look at the memory?” Riley
asked.
“Sure,” Wade shrugged.
Turning to Natasha, Riley asked, “can we get Wanda back in here? I may not know
off the top of my memory who it could be, but this might answer many questions
about the odd behaviors of certain vampyres and even about the lack of
confidence Steve has been displaying more and more. I suspect the leader was
compromised.”
“Wanda is feeding her newborn, Riley,” Natasha said softly, she, too, was eager
to get back to her own pregnant Omega. “But I can go see if she is still decent
and able to come back.” With that, the woman left, her footfalls silent.
T’Challa nodded slowly and studied Wade with actual approval in his dark eyes.
“You may have had part of our mystery locked in your memory, my friend.”
A few minutes later, Natasha returned with a flustered looking Wanda, her
clothes appeared to be put back on in haste.
Not mincing words or wasting time, Riley said, “please view Wade’s memories of
the night he rescued Peter. Give Natasha those memories so we can understand
this?”
Wanda nodded wordlessly; she walked over to Wade and lifted sparking hands to
his temples. Within a few moments she dropped them and transferred the memory
to both Riley and Natasha. “Do you have any more need of me, Riley?” She asked.
“No, and I thank you for your time.” Riley bowed in formal appreciation.
Returning the bow, Wanda bolted from the room to her undoubtedly needy newborn,
she had been forced to leave in the middle of a feeding.
Natasha looked to Riley, “I do not know him? Do you?”
“I do,” Riley growled softly. “HIs name is Kaecilius and he has been missing
for a century. He is technically a Maximoff, which will alarm Wanda once she is
done the feeding and reviews what she has seen.” Riley sighed. “He was
suspected, but never proven, in trying to expand manipulation of any energy,
controlling the bearer. The Circle warned him that to do so was forbidden and
shortly after the man disappeared. I thought the CIrcle might have contained
him without going public.
“And you think Kaecilius is tampering with Steve? How?” Natasha looked
confused, she shook her head.
“When did Rogers begin acting strangely? When did he stop acting responsible
and confident and start reverting back to his confused youth?” Riley asked in
return.
“When he converted Bucky . . . are you saying that - -” Riley’s voice cut off
the rest of Natasha’s sentence.
“I am saying that someone set Rogers up by giving him the distraction of the
‘Winter Soldier.’ And he got worse as time passed but we all felt it was
because of his odd and rare mating with Bucky. Tell me, he killed someone at
the safehouse, yes?”
“Ripped the Alpha’s spine out for attacking Bucky,” Natasha answered with a
nod.
“And was Bucky’s reaction to what the Alpha did above normal? Was it
exaggerated?” Riley asked.
Natasha’s eyes narrowed in thought, “he acted like the Alpha’s touch physically
burned him . . . he screamed for Steve. You are not saying that Bucky has
anything to do with this, are you?”
“I think Hydra has been manipulating Bucky, whether he knows it or not. And who
are the known vampyres in Hydra?” Riley looked at Natasha unflinchingly. With
what he hinted at, it was no wonder Riley had sent anyone less than four
hundred from the room.
“Pierce?” Natasha started.
“And Johann . . .” T’Challa supplied. “Two of the most powerful Rogers clan
members before they went rogue.”
“How are Pierce and Johann manipulating Bucky? Bucky hasn’t hardly left the
house.”
Riley sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. “Before he left Hydra to
hunt Steve,” the old vampyre said. “Bucky was tampered with by a Maximoff
rogue. The pieces add up the more we learn. Pierce deliberately killed Bucky’s
family, forcing the child to come to him. Then he raised, lied to, and
manipulated the boy until he was old enough for the vampyre’s purpose. Which
vampyre out of all the clans has been willing to defy the elders without
slapping them in their faces? The one vampyre leader no one would suspect if
something went wrong because he is so honest and earnest? And, if Pierce could
get a hand back into power, he could take over in his own way.” Riley shook his
head, “I’m willing to bet the only thing that stopped Pierce this entire time
from using Bucky to destroy the Rogers clan from the inside out is the
unexpected fact that Steve and Bucky are true mates.”
“So, Bucky is some type of sleeper agent? Could that be why he is so erratic?”
Natasha asked.
Nodding, Riley added, “and when Norman slipped and showed his hand, it nearly
gave everything away. If Steve had been more confident, he would have mentioned
this strange attack far sooner, not just that Bucky and Summer had been
accosted. I think through Bucky’s contact with Steve, Kaecillius has been
attacking the clan, especially Steve.”
“So, what do we do? This information will kill that Omega, Riley. He is not
stable enough for this truth,” Natasha shook her head, running her thin fingers
though the bright red locks.
“It will rip Steve apart, too,” Riley confirmed. “We need to have a strong
Maximoff to counter him. If we are really serious about this little house we’ve
all begun calling home, in a clan of mixed members working in unity, we need to
find other members who will join us. Not ones that want to rebel, but ones who
want to promote unity.”
“Will the procedure be painful? You know Steve is going to ask questions, Bucky
is still his mate, after all.”
“I think it depends on what we need to do to remove the controls on the Omega
and his Alpha. I think Steve is also being controlled, Natasha.” Riley sighed.
“I am not familiar enough with Maximoff abilities. If I was, I could answer
those questions. The first problem is finding a Maximoff willing to aid us.
Willing to try to counter Kaecillius’s power, which is quite immense.”
“What about Stephen? He’s older than you, Riley. He’s already interacted with
both Steve and Bucky. He already showed that he is sympathetic when he withheld
some information he found about Bucky and Steve from the Council.”
“And he saw all of their memories,” T’Challa said slowly in his musical voice.
“It is possible he saw tampering and withheld that information as well?”
“Bucky wouldn’t have any memory of the tampering, so I’d doubt it would’ve come
up in a simple memory sweep. Stephen wasn’t looking for evidence of tampering,”
Natasha pointed out.
“If we are right,” T’Challa said, “and these three rogues are working together
to manipulate the Rogers clan, kill other clans, and steal pups for selling,
this is a very serious plot. And I see another possible plot to this: soldiers.
Bucky and Steve have shown great inclination to be very violent in their
reactions. If this trifecta is manipulating them, is it purposely creating
vampyre killers that would work for it?”
“So, we need to send for Stephen right away,” Natasha answered with a nod.
“And what if the elders think this is barking at shadows?” Riley asked,
wrapping his arms around himself in the remembered horror of Johann destroying
the Philadelphia Wilson house . . . and the fact that the elders had yet to act
on Riley’s information or even question him about it . . . as if they wished to
deny what was right before their eyes.
“Well, let’s send for Stephen first, see what he says . . . he can help us
determine if this is something to bring forth to the Elders,” Natasha answered
with a sigh.
T’Challa nodded. “I shall send immediately for him.”
“Good,” Natasha said, she looked to both of the other older vampyres and said,
“I suggest you both rest while we wait for his arrival.”
”And shall I keep these troubles from Sam?” Riley asked Natasha.
“Until Stephen does his investigation, it would be wise to keep this to
ourselves, we do not want to cause panic.” Natasha’s emerald eyes flickered to
Riley’s swollen abdomen, “we need to try to keep the house in peace. We have
too many frailties at the moment.”
Nodding, not offended by being considered one of those frailties, Riley bowed
slightly and headed for the door. “Until Stephen can check our suspicions,
then, I plan to spend time with my mate. Perhaps we can get those documents
back from Stark that Steve left behind.”
“When the sun next sets,” Natasha offered as she opened the door for Riley,
slipping out behind him. “Rest now, Riley Wilson.”
“Natasha,” Riley’s eyes flicked to the patiently waiting Sam in the hall but
the older vampyre didn’t hide the current conversation, “do you think we should
petition to be a united house? A new clan?”
A smirk appeared on Natasha’s face, “T’Challa and I have already begun the
process. We were waiting until after all the pups were born to tell the rest of
the house.”
Smiling that elusive smile that lit his face, Riley nodded. “And so the
question would be what clan name to choose.” The smile flitted away and the
blond stepped to his mate’s side.
“Oh, I am sure that we will come up with something,” Natasha winked and then
stepped away from Riley, making her way down the hall to the room she shared
with Clint.
T’Challa bowed to Riley and Sam before walking to his own room which he shared
with Becca and their newly rescued, unnamed pup.
Touching Sam’s arm, Riley said, “we have decided to ask Stephen Maximoff if he
wants to come join our house, but that is all I will tell you until he makes
his decision. We think his help may be needed for Bucky and Steve.”
Sam nodded, wrapping his arm around his mate, he said “I trust your judgement.
Stephen would be a good ally to have in these times.”
“Yes, but for now, I will take Romanov’s orders to heart and rest with my
mate.” The blond nuzzled at Sam’s neck. “Put your hand on my abdomen, Sam?”
Sam did as instructed and put his hand on Riley’s pup-bump, and a fluttering
pressure met the Alpha’s hand. A large smile crossed the vampyre’s face, “our
pup, Riley.”
Nodding, Riley offered Sam a smile and a kiss. “Our pup, my Alpha.” As he led
Sam to their room, he paused at Bucky and Steve’s. Knocking softly, he asked,
“are you in need of anything before we go to bed?”
“No, thank you,” Steve replied from inside the room, his eyes locked on Bucky,
whom he held on his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t yet cleaned
his mate up, too busy trying to cuddle and reassure him.
Bucky tucked his head under Steve’s chin, curled up as tightly as he could on
his Alpha’s lap, his brown hair stuck up on end from the constant nuzzling and
scenting of his mate.
When the pair moved away from the door, Steve turned a kiss on Bucky’s temple,
once more mentally apologizing for cutting him of, promising never to do so
again. He stroked Bucky’s back and kissed his love on the temple. “I love you,
Bucky. My god how I love you!”
The Omega keened and began to suck on the skin of Steve’s neck, he lapped at
the bruised skin before moving to begin the process over again on a fresh spot.
After several bruising kisses, Steve stood up, easily lifting Bucky as he did
so. He headed for the private bathing room and that large tub. When he got in
the room, the blond set his mate on a chair. “Bucky, wanna wash up then relax
in the tub?” He hadn’t forgotten that Nick Fury had told him to ask his mate
rather than tell his mate.
“Yes, please,” Bucky answered.
Smiling, the large blond stripped them both and used warm wet cloths to bathe
them clean, letting the tub nearby fill with steaming hot water. By the time
they were clean, the water had cooled to a tolerable level. Steve picked up
Bucky and lowered them both into the steaming bath, a sigh escaping as he began
to feel the relaxing pull of the hot water.
“It’s nice, Alpha,” Bucky breathed; the brunet turned around to straddle the
blond’s waist, the fingers of his hand trailing down the smooth surface of his
mate’s torso all the way down until he felt the jagged beginnings of the scar
that the dhampyr had caused.
Steve looked down into the clear water to watch his mate touching those scars.
He looked up and reached forward to stroke Bucky’s scarred shoulder, gentle
fingers running over the bite mark that clashed so obviously with the mate
mark. “Does it still hurt, love?” he asked softly; his own scars only felt a
mild pressure, mostly numb where the dhampyr had clawed him.
“It’s odd,” Bucky answered looking down at the scar, “I’ll get these weird
pains that run down the whole arm . . . but then in a moment it’s gone - -
almost like it never happened.”
Frowning softly, Steve eyed the empty area of the missing limb and gently said,
“Bucky . . . there’s no arm to hurt.”
The brunet straightened, the water swishing around with the movement, and
blinked a couple times. The Omega looked over at the shoulder and one would
think the man had just lost the limb, rather than a little over five months
before, by the horror on Bucky’s face. He lifted his right hand and touched the
empty left socket, fingers massaging the skin.
“Have you been hurting down the arm for five months, Bucky, or just since the
bite the dhampyr gave you?” Steve didn’t point out that Bucky shouldn’t be
feeling the limb; he was smart enough to know phantom limb syndrome when he saw
it. Many amputees felt the limb and the pain even long after the trauma.
“I - - I . . .” Bucky turned wide eyes to his mate, “I didn’t really think
about it . . . it’s been happening more these last few days . . .”
Nodding, Steve reached over and touched the fleshed over socket, too. “I’ve
heard of it. Humans don’t really understand the reason for it, but we vampyres
think it is a muscle memory condition mixed with traumatic emotional memories.
We call it phantom limb syndrome.” He smiled at Bucky. “As long as the pain
isn’t so debilitating it causes you a problem with daily living, do you want to
just work with it as you have been? I can ask for a Maximoff to see to you, if
you want?”
The brunet shook his head, releasing a shaky breath, “no . . . I think I’ve had
enough people messing with my head . . . I’ll just live with it for now. I’ll
let you know if it gets too bad.”
Thank you, Buck, I’ll let you judge the pain. But, if you want, don’t hesitate
to ask for a massage or anything? Steve asked over their bond, nervous since he
had been the one to cut the bond off earlier.
Bucky smiled, I won’t. I missed this. I felt empty without you.
I did, too, Steve sighed, nuzzling at Bucky’s throat. I didn’t want to
accidentally control you. Fury was very clear about how I was . . . Steve cut
himself off and tried again. He made me feel like I wasn’t good to you. But I
am going to work on this, Bucky.
Fury is an old, cranky bastard that doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut,
Steve. You aren’t my master, you’re my mate. I’m sorry that I got mad at you .
. . that I shouted at you in the street. You’re my Alpha and I love you, Bucky
looked at Steve, the color of his gold and pale-blue eyes, that held so much
love and adoration, popped out against his flushed skin.
Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, his own sapphire colored eyes ringed in golden fire.
I love you and I’m always afraid of hurting you. I guess I let Fury get to me.
Steve reached up a wet hand and brushed some of Bucky’s hair back from his
forehead, replacing the damp, dark curls with a tender kiss. Would you like to
feed, sweetheart?
Bucky hummed and bit his bottom lip, letting his teeth drag against the plush
skin as he ground his hips down on Steve’s pelvis, the crack of his ass
dragging against the Alpha’s member.
With a soft groan, Steve let his hips buck very slightly, not wanting to slosh
the water out of the tub. He smiled at his beautiful mate, the feel of Bucky’s
weight resting against the his hot flesh, his erection growing at the
sensations. Bucky, you are perfect for me, he mentally praised his love.
Leaning over to nip at Steve’s earlobe, Bucky licked the shell of the ear and
whispered, “what about you, Alpha? Are you hungry?” The Omega rasped in a
seductive tone, his hips still moving against Steve’s.
I’m always hungry, Buck. You make me hungry, Steve breathed against his mate’s
throat, his member pulsing.
The Omega reached down in the water and wrapped his nimble fingers around
Steve’s erection, pumping his fist slowly, teasing and stimulating the flesh.
Bucky bent down to lick at one of the Alpha’s nipples that rested just above
the water’s edge, nipping and sucking on the puckered bud.
With a gasp the blond arched his back, member throbbing at the intense
sensations Bucky produced. “What you do to me, love!” he groaned out loud.
Moving over to do the same with Steve’s other nipple, Bucky sucked hard on the
flesh, biting down ever so slightly on the sensitive flesh, rolling it between
his teeth only to let go and lap at the bud to soothe it before starting the
process over again. The Omega kept his leisurely pace with his hand, running it
slowly over the erection.
Shifting his large hands on his lover’s hips, Steve ground his pelvis up,
erection dragging over Bucky’s crack and under his balls. With a deep groan of
lust, Steve nipped at Bucky’s neck lightly enough to merely release a bit of
the Omega’s endorphins without causing a major energy flow. Burying his nose in
that spot, Steve inhaled. “Missed you so much, baby . . .”
Bucky gasped softly as Steve’s fangs broke the skin on his neck, his back
arched, pressing their chests flush together. The Omega’s head fell back and
his hand wrapped tighter around his mate’s member as he ground his hips back
down to create more friction.
Alternating between lapping and nuzzling his mate’s endorphin release, beard
rasping the flesh, Steve rumbled low in his chest, almost as if the large man
purred. He ran a hand down into the water to cup Bucky’s firm ass cheek, first
one then caressingly over to the other. As he squeezed back and forth, one
handed, Steve moved his free hand to tangle in Bucky’s short curls and tug
gently, fingernails scraping lightly.
The brunet groaned, eyes slipping shut and mouth falling open slightly. Bucky
released his Alpha’s erection, mewling desperately as he lined himself up and
steadily slid down on the massive tool, bottoming the blond down in one smooth
motion.
Letting out a low groan of absolute pleasure, Steve suddenly let Bucky’s hair
and butt go and wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling him tight in the warm
water. They were in an awkward pose, of course, but Steve needed to hold his
lover. “My Bucky . . . my Omega!” he growled.
“Yours, Alpha . . .” Bucky purred, thrusting himself slow and deep on Steve’s
member, “all yours . . . “
With the dawn came a knock on the front door of the house and shortly after a
knock interrupted Steve and Bucky cuddling, once more clean, in their large
bed, with their pup. Softly, Riley’s voice came to them, sounding sleepy,
“Stark and his are here, Rogers. They are in the front drawing room. Wade is
prowling on alert.”
“Shit,” Bucky grumbled, carefully, trying to avoid waking the sleeping pup in
his arm, the Omega slipped off the bed.
“I can meet him and find out why the idiot came into a vampyre house instead of
just sending for us,” Steve volunteered and eased out of the bed.
Rocking Summer gently, Bucky shook his head, “I want to come with you.”
“Of course,” Steve smiled, offering his mate a robe. He aided the man to slip
into the material, tying it for him to protect his modesty, despite the view
Tony’d had the last time the pair had been to the inventor’s house. Steve,
also, put on a robe and tied it shut. Steve wrapped an arm around his mate and
pup and led them down the wide stairs to the drawing room.
Tony was looking over everything within sight, a look of intrigue on his face
for the most mundane objects . . . and some of the rarer.
“You’re an idiot, Stark,” Bucky called out as they stepped into the room,
instead of a polite welcome that was expected of him.
Tony whirled around with a grin. “Hello to you, too, Jimmy. Oh! Is that your
baby? Huh, I didn’t think you were due yet.” He strode over to peer at the pup.
Bucky held Summer tighter, looking wary of the curious inventor, “this is
Summer, Tony. She’s our adoptive pup.”
“Pup . . . you mentioned that before, like in puppy. Got it. Not called baby in
this world.” The raven-haired man grinned and held out a packet of neatly
arranged pages, not the papers the pair had risked themselves to rescue,
though. “Your notes?”
With a frown behind his beard, Steve took the sheaf carefully and perused the
pages. “These aren’t the ones we left with you.”
“Nope,” Tony said, rocking on his heels. “I transcribed them. The other pages
were damaged.”
Peering at the pages in Steve’s hand, continuing to rock Summer back and forth,
Bucky then looked over at Tony with wide eyes, “you copied all the damaged ones
down?”
“Yes, precisely, even the blurred bits,” Tony beamed proudly. “I wasn’t sleepy
and decided to work on them. Fascinating, if a bit morbid and creepy. Somebody
noted only as KM is dealing in producing packages for someone called JR who
transports them to Hydra research facilities as a base to work with,” Tony
translated.
“Johann Rogers . . . but who could be KM?” Bucky mused, looking up at Steve.
Steve shook his head. “Not Pierce, he would be AR or AP if they’re using
initials.”
“There’s an AP in there, too. He runs the Hydra areas using the packages for
their experiments. Also has an AZ working for him. Really, a very childish sort
of note taking.” Tony shrugged. The human made faces at the pup, who began to
giggle in response.
Bucky looked down at the pup with a loving smile, he bounced her playfully with
his arm, eliciting another string of giggles and coos.
“Looks well cared for,” Tony beamed again. “Rhodey had his doubts you pair
could tend children with your penchant for trouble, but Pepper insisted you’d
be wonderful parents. I guess Pepper beats Rhodey.”
The Omega sighed and continued looking down at Summer, his pale eyes searching
the pup’s face; her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, but there seemed to be a
golden glow about her eyes, and her hair got a deeper red by the day. She did
look a lot better since Johnny had taken over the feedings; the pup seemed a
lot happier.
Steve smiled fondly at the pair then looked back over the documents. “Thank you
for bringing them, but you really shouldn’t have come. You put yourself at risk
coming to a vampyre house, especially since you know we house a vampire or
two.”
“What? The guy with the scars dressed in red? He and the kid went out as I came
in. He gave me a wild look but kept going when I told him my name.” Tony
grinned.
“What?” Bucky’s head snapped up, looking at Tony incredulously, “he left? With
Peter?”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, your vampire and the kid he’s with went for a dawn stroll.
Don’t know why.”
Steve let out a sigh and turned immediately for the door only to stop as Peter
and Wade came back in, looking tired but no worse for having been out during
the dawn. Peter smiled up at Wade. “Thank you.”
“Of course, baby boy,” Wade beamed happily, kissing Peter’s temple and then he
turned to look up at Steve, “he wanted to see the dawn.”
“Ultraviolet weakens vampyres,” Steve said, still looking surprised, sounding a
bit uncertain.
“We stayed in the shadows,” Wade rolled his eyes, “I’m not stupid . . . Petey
has been cooped up inside ever since he got here . . . he just wanted some
air.”
Nodding, Steve said, “no, I understand, Wade. I was just surprised that it was
during daylight. Uh . . .we have what’s called a widow’s walk up on the roof.
It’s shaded, too, if you want to go up there? Might be harder for others to
spot you or sneak around on you?” The house leader wanted to protect his
members, even the odd ones. “Runs the entire roof and looks out on all four
directions, but we had a roof put over it to shield from direct ultraviolet or
heavy weather. The sides are open . . .”
“So,” Tony rocked on his heels again. “You the pair I’m making the transfusion
machine for?”
Wade nodded, holding Peter closer, “yep, that would be us.”
“So, are they children or puppies with you?” Tony asked.
“Pups, Tony. We aren’t dogs,” Bucky chided from behind the inventor.
“Damn, you move quiet for someone pregnant,” Tony looked over his shoulder,
frowning softly. “So, that means no litter?”
Bucky quirked a brow, a small smile on his lips as he continued to softly
bounce Summer.
Steve for his part remained merely listening, eyes creased in amusement and . .
. snickering. He was actually chuckling at the odd conversation.
“A litter?” Peter said, going a bit pale, hand going to his abdomen. “I don’t
think I can survive a litter. One’s dangerous enough.”
Looking to the scared fledgling, Bucky shook his head, reciting some of the
facts he’d learned from reading Steve’s massive library, “no, Peter. We don’t
have litters like dogs,” the Omega shot Tony a glare, “it’s rare enough to
actually have a pup . . . twins are practically unheard of.”
Clint bounded in the room. “Good, I’m not the only one awake still,” he
grinned, his own pup-bump reminding one of a three month rather than month and
a half term. He stopped at the sight of Tony and straightened, looking
surprised. “What’s he doing in a vampyre house?”
“Clint Barton?” Tony asked, surprised, brown eyes wide. “Damn, your wife,
Laura’s, held a funeral for you. We thought you got killed hunting!”
Bucky’s eyes flickered over to the stocky blond; he knew that Clint didn’t
really like talking about his wife from his past life.
“Yeah,” Clint frowned shaking his head. “The agreement was, when I was
converted, not to tell Laura anything. Let her think I died. It was either that
or dump my cold carcass on her doorstep anyway. This way, she gets the dignity
of telling everyone whatever she wants instead of how I really died.”
Tony nodded, looking intrigued. “Makes no sense, but you never did.”
Clint shrugged and turned his grey-blue eyes on the rest of the room, meeting
the surprised, almost nervous, gaze of Peter. “You get it, right Peter? Why I
didn’t want them to know? As long as they think I died, they’ll grieve and move
on . . .”
Peter shrugged. “My Aunt still doesn’t know. I’m not sure what she thinks. But
my Uncle Ben was killed that night.” He looked to Wade. “He was the grey-haired
guy in the corner . . .”
Steve cleared his throat. “We all left people behind when we converted. We made
our choices to let them know or not. Now, we’re a family in our new lives . . .
all of us . . . right?”
Bucky actually laughed, “I’d sure hope so. Everyone but the people under this
roof hate me.”
“Not true,” Clint said. “Stephen Maximoff likes you.” He grinned widely.
“Okay,” Bucky added.
“And Pepper likes you,” Tony put in, with a chuckle, “though I think Rhodey
could do without the displays of affection.”
Surprisingly, Bucky didn’t blush; he gave the inventor a wink and said, “I
think he actually enjoys them but is too shy to say anything.”
“He’s got a real stick up his ass, my Rhodey,” Tony agreed. “But he’s a hard
worker with a steady mind, so I keep him around. And, bonus, he keeps his hands
off my wife.”
“If we could find him a mate,”Steve chuckled, “he might be less shy.”
Tony snickered. “You know, with me working so closely with you guys, I should
just move in for a bit. Me and Pep and Rhodey, bless his prudish heart, and
Jarvis. Jarvis is my butler and man-of-all-work. Well, not all,” Tony shrugged.
“Rhodey’s been hired to help with my direct experiments. But Jarvis does
everything else.”
Steve’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Uh . . . humans move into a vampyre
house?”
Clint snickered. “Why not? We’ve got vampires here.”
“Well . . .” Bucky looked unsure, he licked his lips and looked to Tony, “I
don’t know if that’s a good idea? We have a newborn in the house . . .” The
Omega shuddered, remembering how he’d lost control and nearly killed Pietro
when he’d gone into a hunger heat.
Glancing at Summer, Tony nodded slowly, “a real threat, she looks, too.”
“Not her,” Bucky said in exasperation, “she is a pup. Newborn is the term for a
newly converted vampyre. Which can be prone to bouts of uncontrollable hunger.”
“So, you saying I might get fucked to death if I move in?” Tony blinked in
surprise.
Bucky winced, “actually . . . yes, I guess I kinda am. You, Pepper, Rhodey and
Jarvis would all be in danger.”
“Kinky,” Tony answered, looking intrigued. “So, this would be a group orgy?”
“Tony,” Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes, “can you take this seriously? If you
really are thinking about moving in, you need to understand all the dangers
that might come with it.”
“Yeah, I’m seriously considering that I don’t want sex with just anyone. I have
a touching problem, you know.” The inventor frowned at Bucky.
“And if Wanda keeps him under control?” Clint asked, mildly amused, “I mean,
she can compel him not to feed from humans. Nat did to me when I was a newborn.
Most sires do that, she said.”
Bucky frowned, he looked up at Steve with a quirked brow.
Steve looked surprised. “They do?”
Bucky groaned again, shaking his head.
“Sounds like there’s a bit of a problem in your vampyre educational system,”
Tony observed.
Clint suddenly bounded out of the room, calling “Alpha!”
A few moments later, an amused looking Natasha walked back into the room, her
Omega a few steps in front of her. She stopped when her eyes landed on Tony,
looking over to Steve, she said, “another house guest, Steve?”
“He’s trying,” Steve answered. “This is Tony Stark, the human who’s going to
try to save Peter during delivery. He offered to move his household into ours.”
“A human in a vampyre household?” Natasha lifted a brow and looked back at
Tony, “how interesting.”
“Yes, we could learn so much about each other,” he smiled, checking her over
once. “So, you’re the famed . . .?” He left it dangling since no one had
introduced her.
“I go by many names, but in this house it is Natasha,” she offered with a sly
smirk, her emerald eyes trailing down the human’s form, assessing him.
He glanced at the pup in Bucky’s arm and asked “sure that’s not your puppy?”
Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed in obvious annoyance.
“Summer is Bucky’s pup, not Natasha’s, Tony. If you even want to consider
living here, you should learn the proper terms. I won’t have you insulting my
house.” Steve frowned severely behind his beard, his eyes narrowed.
“Got it,” Tony lifted both hands in a pacifying manner, “Pup, and Bucky’s the,
what? Mother?”
“I’m the dam,” Bucky offered, his pale eyes staring at Tony intently.
“Right, dam and pup. Does the father have a special name, too?” Tony nodded,
dropping his hands.
“Sire,” Steve answered.
“Like the same word you use for the person who converts the newborn human?”
Tony glanced at Bucky to confirm that the man recognized that the human used
the proper term for new vampyre.
Bucky nodded, “exactly.”
Clint wandered around the room as if he’d never been inside it before, swerving
closer to Peter and Bucky once in awhile, around and around the edges of the
space.
Watching the stocky brunet with a curious tilt of his head, Bucky smiled and
said, “ya know, you’re going to burn a track in the floor if you keep going.”
Tony’s eyes watched the blond fledgling in avid interest, trying to puzzle out
what he was doing . . . or if he was insane. The inventor began to lead toward
insane when Clint happily answered, “good, that was what I was going for.”
Bucky laughed, shaking his head.
With a smile for Clint’s antics, Steve turned back to look at Tony. “Do you
have an issue with visitors to your home, Tony?”
“Nope, just wanna see how the other third lives.” Tony didn’t take his eyes off
the still roving vampyre. “Does he need to be exercised? Cooped up? Not get out
much?”
Natasha seemed slightly confused by her odd Omega as well; of course, she’d
never really fully understood Clint . . . most of the time she just let him do
whatever he wanted. “Do you need something, my darling?”
Clint stopped instantly, ending up just behind the inventor, and said,
“restless. My guts are hurting.” He paused then shook his head. “No, not
hurting, but they feel weird.”
The red-haired leader nodded as if she understood, “that is because you are
pregnant, darling. The pup is pressing against your insides.” Natasha knew that
Clint’s pup-bump was a lot bigger than it should be at only a month and a half.
She didn’t know exactly why it would be larger, but she always kept a close eye
on the Omega.
“My spine is pulsing and right above my . . .” Clint glanced at the people in
the room, smirked, and said “feeding tube . . .”
Bucky snorted in amusement, shaking his head as he began to rock the pup again,
Summer slowly falling back to sleep in his arm, “feeding tube? Really, Clint?”
“Well, I can be really rude and call it my dangling bits or something . . .”
Clint grinned at Bucky.
Natasha looked to Steve, her green eyes holding a tint of concern.
The tall blond frowned. “Have we sent for Stephen?” Steve seemed to change the
subject and Clint went back to his wandering.
“T’Challa did, yes,” Natasha answered, “he should arrive momentarily.”
“Maybe he’ll be willing to check over the fledglings and Summer while he’s
here?” Steve offered, catching sight of Clint as the stockier, smaller blond
passed by Wade once more. “Clint, moving like that won’t stop the pup kicking
or leaning. You’ll make yourself sick.”
“He’s making me sick,” Wade piped up, his head following the Omega’s circular
movements around the room.
“The pup moves inside?” Peter asked, surprised. “I never felt something like
that. What’s it like?”
“Kinda feels like a fluttering inside . . . then a pushing sensation?” Bucky
offered, trying to come up with the best words to describe the feeling of a pup
moving inside the womb.
Clint shook his head. “No, feels like pressure on my spine in pulses, like over
and over again, and one low down in my gut . . .” He did stop, though, looking
troubled.
Peter bit his lip. “I don’t feel anything.”
Bucky held Summer closer, looking up at Steve with wide eyes. He’d never felt
Winnie move either, the only sign that he’d been pregnant at all was the slow
expanse of his abdomen.
Steve put an arm around his mate. “Definitely want Stephen to check the
fledglings.” He hated the idea that Peter might have a stillbirth. All that
trauma for no reward, and in Peter’s case so very deadly.
“Is it okay if I put Summer to bed?” Bucky asked softly.
“Of course, love.” Steve smiled and kissed Bucky’s temple.
Nodding, Bucky ducked his head and with silent steps, left the drawing room.
His mind wandering to Winnie, how she’d never had a chance at life, how little
she had been in his arm. Bucky hadn’t been able to visit her resting place
since the Ceremony of Rest; he knew that Steve went down to the tomb quite
often, but the Omega still couldn’t seem to fully face his grief of losing the
pup.
***** Of Control and Confusion *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
A firm knock on the front door sounded as Bucky passed, followed by an equally
firm, “Good evening, Rogers house. I have come as requested. It is Stephen
Maximoff.”
The brunet paused; he couldn’t answer the door, his only arm being taken by
Summer. “You may enter, Stephen,” Bucky called out.
As if he realized who had greeted him, Stephen opened the door and bowed
formally at the shoulders to Bucky. “I was sent for?” he questioned as he
walked in and shut the door behind him.
“Yes,” Bucky answered, although he was unsure of the specific reason, “the
others are in the drawing room. I was just putting Summer to bed.” The brunet
bounced his arm gently, gesturing to the resting pup.
“By all means, don’t let me interfere with your time with your pup, Dam
Rogers,” Stephen said.
Bowing slightly, Bucky said, “thank you, Stephen.” The Omega turned and walked
up the stairs, his footfalls silent; the faint click of a door opening and
shutting echoed down the hall and into the foyer.
Stephen looked to the drawing room and walked over to the door where voices
sounded behind. “Hello. It is Stephen Maximoff,” the older vampyre called.
The door opened and Steve smiled at the darker-haired man. “Please, come in.”
He let Stephen walk past him into the small crowd.
Stopping just inside the door, barely paying attention to Steve slipping around
him, Stephen took in the sight of Clint circling the room, a worried frown on
his face, and Peter hovering close to his vampire sire.
“He is feeling discomfort,” Natasha said gesturing to Clint with a tilt of her
chin and then looking to Peter she added, “and he is not feeling enough. We
were hoping you could take a look?”
With a nod, Stephen asked, “did you wish me to check on the pups?”
Clint stopped directly in front of the taller man. “Please? It’s fat enough to
push in two opposite directions.”
“And how far along are you?” the practical vampyre asked, almost clinically. He
lay one hand over the pup-bump and a soft red glow began.
“Month and a half,” Clint promptly responded, causing Stephen’s eyes to widen
in surprise.
The Alpha looked even more surprised as he put his other hand on the Omega’s
abdomen. Finally, he nodded and drew his hands away. “Who is the sire, the
Alpha?”
“I am,” Natasha answered, stepping closer, “is everything okay? The pup . . .
is it healthy?”
“Yes, let us talk privately so you may relay the information to your Omega as
you see fit.” Stephen gestured to the hall.
Nodding, Natasha stepped out of the room and into the empty hallway.
Once in the hallway, Stephen shut the door softly. “A female Alpha and a male
Omega . . . a rare conception.” He looked at her, as if studying her very
thoughts, before saying, “both pups are healthy and active.”
“Both? You mean . . . as in twins?” Natasha gasped, eyes widening in shock.
“Generally, yes, that is a term for two pups in the same womb simultaneously.”
Stephen looked at her. “Both are pressing in opposite directions, causing the
discomfort.”
“Is there a remedy for it?” Natasha asked.
“Whelping,” the older vampyre answered promptly.
“It is far too early for whelping,” she shook her head.
“Then I am afraid he will have to put up with the discomfort for another three
months and a half.” Stephen shrugged.
Nodding, processing the information, the leader lowered her tone and stepped
closer to the other Alpha, “there is another reason to why you were asked for,
Stephen.”
“Since your Wanda could have monitored the pups, I assumed so. Why send for the
best when you have adequate . . . at least that is the way most think.” The
vampyre sounded arrogant, but he looked interested. “Why do you need my
attention, Romanov?”
“We believe both Steve and Bucky have been tampered with by a rogue Maximoff,”
she reported with a near whisper, not wanting Steve to overhear.
Instantly, Stephen’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed and he said, “Kaecillius?”
“That name did come up, yes,” Natasha answered, “Bucky has been erratic . . .
almost like he is mentally fighting the bond between himself and Steve. And
Steve has been falling back into his old, nearly crippling guilt. We are afraid
that Bucky was sent as a sleeper agent of sorts to destroy the Rogers clan from
the inside out.”
“That would be very like Kaecillius,” Stephen murmured, frowning, his odd-
colored eyes thoughtful.
“What?” Bucky gasped from the hallway, his steps having been unheard by the
other two vampyres, his eyes were wide.
Turning, never one to mince words, Stephen answered directly, “it is possible
that a rogue Maximoff may have programmed you to attack the Rogers clan then
erased your knowledge of the tampering, Dam Rogers.”
“No . . . no . . .” Bucky shook his head wildly, “I’m - - I’m not with Hydra
anymore! I swear it! I’m just Bucky now . . .” the Omega whimpered and wrapped
his arm around himself.
Rolling his eyes, Stephen answered, “of course you aren’t. You left them, but
the tampering may still be present, awaiting certain triggers, words, or
actions.”
“Can you get it out?” Bucky asked desperately. “Please . . . get it out.”
“Of course, but it will be dangerous while you are with pup. It could damage
the pup.” Stephen said.
The brunet’s eyes filled with tears, though they did not spill over, “but what
if they trigger them? I can’t hurt anyone . . . please? I can’t . . .”
“When are you due, Dam?” Stephen asked, gentling his voice slightly at Bucky’s
distress.
“Three more months,” Bucky answered , he couldn’t believe that Hydra still had
control over him . . . what if he hurt Steve? Or, God forbid, killed him?
“Stop panicking,” Stephen ordered firmly though he certainly couldn’t compel
the worried Omega. “The more you worry, the worse you will be. If you wish, I
can try to block off any tampering without removing it. After the whelping, I
can finish the psychic surgery. However,” he looked over at Natasha then back
at Bucky, “it would be wisest to check first to see if our fears are founded.
There may be no tampering at all. You may simply be erratic and insane.”
Bucky wrapped his arm tighter around himself; he chewed his lip nervously, “do
whatever you need. I can’t hurt anyone . . .”
“Well, we should make sure you are comfortable so you don’t fall down. You
recall last time I worked with you?” Stephen gestured towards a chair in the
hall.
The Omega hurried over to the chair and sat down, he looked up at Stephen with
wide eyes, “I remember,” he muttered and took a deep breath.
Nodding, Stephen shot his hands out from his sleeves to bare his scarred hands,
something Bucky had not noticed before about the older vampyre: his hands were
horribly scarred and shaking. He knelt down in front of the pregnant Omega.
“Relax and let me look. I will not hurt you. That I will reserve for later.
Right now, I wish only to look for tampering.” That familiar red glow came from
Stephen's hands and he laid them on either side of Bucky’s head, at his
temples. Gently, the Maximoff safehouse leader wandered into the ex-hunter’s
mind.
Bucky closed his eyes; he felt the slight tugging sensation on his conscious.
He tried to keep his breathing even, to keep himself calm. He found himself
thinking of Steve . . . the thought of his Alpha calmed him slightly.
It took long minutes before Stephen pulled back, his eyes a vivid scarlet. He
closed his eyes, and when they reopened they were that odd, unplaceable color
once more. Opening his mouth to speak, the drawing room door opening startled
him, causing him to snap his mouth shut.
Steve stood there, frowning. Behind him, Clint was perched on the edge of a
couch looking ashen and very scared. It had been some time since his Alpha had
gone out to discuss his pup.
Bucky didn’t tear his eyes away from Stephen; they searched the Maximoff’s face
intently for answers, “well?”
“Yes, you will need further tending, Dam Rogers. For now, stay in the house if
possible. I must see to the rest of the people I have been brought to tend.
Rest.” Stephen stood and strode into the drawing room, barely glancing over the
human, Tony, as he moved to Peter.
The Omega nodded and stood up; without even looking at Steve, the brunet turned
and walked up the stairs, silent tears trailing down his cheeks.
“Bucky?” Steve moved to go after him, but Stephen barked out.
“Leave him, I will check you next. I plan to check every member of this
household, Rogers. Your mate will be fine for a few minutes.” The Maximoff
psychic healer scanned Peter’s abdomen carefully then nodded and turned to
Wade. “You are the mate?”
Nodding, Wade looked at the tall brunet with wary eyes, “yes.”
“I wish to inform you of the status of the pup so that you may tell your Omega
what you will.” He gestured to the hallway.
Wade frowned, “why can’t Petey be there? It’s not bad is it?”
Looking over at Wade then offering an approving smirk, Stephen said, “most
sires wish to control what information the fledgling or Omega hears. Really a
troublesome practice. The pup is doing quite well, healthy but quiet. You have
nothing to fear unless there is pain or bleeding.”
Squeezing Peter’s shoulders gently, Wade beamed, “you hear that, baby boy? Our
pup is fine!”
Peter passed out, making Wade gasp in shock as he lurched to catch his falling
mate.
Stephen rolled his eyes. “He’s fine, merely overwhelmed.”
Clint looked to Natasha and whimpered in fear, blue-grey eyes wide. A hand
rested low on his abdomen and another on his lower back.
“You and the pups are fine, my darling,” Natasha said gently but firmly, “you
are with twins.”
“Twins?” Clint looked down at his large pup-bump. “I thought vampyres don’t
have multiple births.” For once the playful fledgling was lost behind the
responsible ex-hunter.
“It is rare, but possible,” Natasha added.
Stephen turned to Steve. “Sit, and you may go next. Then you may see your mate
if you are able.”
“Able?” Steve frowned and glanced at Natasha. He sank onto a chair. Most of
those in the room ignored Wade and the rousing Peter, except for Tony who
seemed fascinated by everything around him.
Repeating his actions from the hall with Bucky, Stephen knelt and began
scanning Steve’s mind. A fierce frown developed before he drew back, eyes a
bright scarlet. Blinking away the power signature, the Maximoff slipped back to
his butt, his hands shaking almost uncontrollably. He looked pale and a bit
weaker. To Natasha, he said, “it is as you fear. They will need delicate help.
I must rest.”
“Do they need to be kept apart?” Natasha asked, kneeling next to the weakened
Alpha. She pushed her own energy to share with him. She didn’t look at Steve,
her emerald eyes scanning.
“No, no, nothing like that. That will make the problem worse in fat. The more
the pair stay together, the stronger their bond and the more easily they can
withstand the attacks. They wouldn’t need any help if they had been together
for perhaps ten or so years. The trouble is, this is such a new bond.” Stephen
thankfully nodded when he felt he had enough energy store. “Thank you,
Romanov.”
Nodding, Natasha stopped her stream of energy, “what should be done while we
wait until Bucky is ready for the procedure?”
“Keep them away from outdoor influences and keep them together if possible,”
Stephen answered. “But right now, Bucky needs his attention. Someone should go
retrieve the pup so the mates may spend time alone.”
Natasha looked up at Steve from where she knelt next to Stephen, “who would you
like to watch Summer, Steve?”
“Johnny, if he would,” Steve said, looking confused and a bit stunned. “He can
feed her.”
Nodding, Natasha rose to her feet and gestured for Steve to follow her out of
the drawing room, “we will ask him on the way up . . . darling?” Natasha called
from over her shoulder, “Would you like to get some rest?”
“Twins?” Clint asked softly again but began to walk up the steps.
“Yes, my sweet Omega, you are pregnant with twins,” Natasha confirmed gently,
“both of which are healthy.”
The stocky blond looked at his Alpha and there was a hint of terror in his
eyes. He turned back to the steps and finished going up towards their room.
Natasha patted Steve’s shoulder reassuringly before following her Omega down
the hall, slipping into their room after him.
Steve turned to those still in the drawing room and hall. “Please feel free to
rest. May I show you rooms, Stephen? Tony?”
“Nope, I can find one on my own,” Tony reassured him with a grin, and Steve
merely nodded.
Stephen assured his host he would be fine, would use the room he’d used last
time, and Steve nodded almost absently before heading down the second floor
hall to get Johnny. With the other Alpha in tow, Steve went to his own room and
knocked. “Bucky? I have Johnny with me.”
No voice called back to them, the room behind the door was eerily silent, not
even Summer made any noise.
Opening the barrier, Steve looked in. “Bucky love?”
Bucky couldn’t been seen in the main sleeping area; Summer slept soundlessly
slept in her crib.
Johnny retrieved the pup and went back to his own room, leaving Steve to search
the suite of rooms. “Bucky?” After awhile, he reached out with his bond. Bucky?
The bond wasn’t closed, Steve could feel the terror and confusion from his
mate, but the Omega didn’t respond.
“Bucky?” Buck, love, please . . . Steve looked throughout the closet, even,
trying to find the mate he felt so close. I need to tell you what Stephen said,
though I don’t understand it.
A soft cry echoed through the room from the conjoining washroom; the sound was
filled with distress and confusion.
Darting back to the washroom, Steve checked over the entire place. “Bucky?”
“D - - don’t come any closer . . . I - - I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky
sobbed, his voice raspy and thick.
Relief washed over Steve, despite the confusing words. “Bucky, thank god!” He
turned to the sound of his Omega’s voice and stepped nearer. "Stephen said we
should rest together.”
“Th - - there’s things in my head, Stevie . . .” Bucky gasped, he didn’t move
to reveal his exact location to his mate, “they put things in my head . . .”
“Is that why Stephen is here? He scanned me and said you and me need delicate
help but to rest together. We aren’t supposed to leave the house.” Steve
stepped closer, noting the slight difference in the shadows. Drawing a deep
breath and letting it out, Steve reached out a hand. Bucky, please, let’s talk
about this?
What’s there to talk about Steve? Hydra still has me. I’m still their pet . . .
their . . . “asset,” Bucky growled the last word, pulling his knees closer to
his chest as he eyed Steve’s outstretched hand, “I - - I don’t want to hurt
you, Steve. Please . . . I can’t . . .”
Steve took the last couple of steps and scooped his mate into his strong,
muscular arms. Remember, we hurt each other by not being together. Steve
carried the brunet towards their bed.
Bucky cried into the crook of Steve’s neck, clutching at his shirt with a
tightly fisted hand; he breathed in the scent of his Alpha, “I’m sorry - - I
didn’t know . . . I swear! I’m not trying to destroy the Rogers clan.”
“We’ll find a way to stop them, Bucky. We’ll do whatever we need to. Stephen’s
resting but said he’d help us.” The blond kissed his Omega’s temple, caressing
a steady large hand down the lean brunet’s back.
“I - - I can’t hurt anyone . . .” Bucky looked up at Steve with wide, tear-
washed eyes, “What if I hurt you? Or Summer? I can’t . . .”
“You won’t!” Steve assured him firmly. We can have Johnny tend Summer until
Stephen can figure this out. Steve kissed Bucky’s temple once more. “He said to
stay together, and he wouldn’t say that if you and I shouldn’t be together,
Buck.”
Nodding, Bucky released a shaky breath and leaned his head against Steve’s
sturdy shoulder, “Johnny can take Summer . . . just until we get the stuff
outta my head. Steve, I promise I don’t remember . . . I didn’t agree to it . .
.” the brunet’s voiced his desperation for his mate to believe him.
“You were a child,” Steve kissed Bucky’s temple again. “You were grieving your
family when Hydra took you. Of course you can’t remember anything.” He stroked
Bucky’s back soothingly, beginning to take the man’s shirt off.
“No - - no . . . I remember a lot of things . . .” Bucky shuddered, letting his
Alpha remove his clothing, “I remember training exercises, hours of studying .
. . of planning. I remember every single one of the vampyres and vampires that
I hunted. I remember the sick, twisted things they did to me . . .” Bucky’s
mouth snapped shut, realizing he’d said to much in his desperate rant.
“Bucky? Why don’t we start with why Stephen’s here? What he told you? I’m out
of the loop on this one, apparently. I think the others called him in when I
closed off.” The blond folded the shirt neatly and placed it on the nearby
chair. He began to work on Bucky’s trousers.
“I was just coming back from putting Summer to bed . . . I heard Natasha and
Stephen talking. She said everyone expected me to be some type of sleeper agent
. . . that I had been sent from Hydra to bring down the Rogers clan from the
inside. She - - she said that it looked like I’ve been fighting my bond with
you,” Bucky sighed, looking up at Steve, “then Stephen did the scan and said
there was tampering . . . but he can’t do the psychic operation until after Ava
is whelped . . . that the operation could damage the pup and would be painful.”
Nodding, taking Bucky’s words and fears very seriously, the blond slid off
Bucky’s boots in order to finish removing his trousers. “So, Stephen feels he
can fix whatever Hydra did to you?” he asked as he lined up Bucky’s shoes then
folded and placed the trousers on the chair.
“That’s what he said, yeah,” Bucky looked up at the ceiling, his gold and icy
blue eyes filled with sadness.
“So, he wants us to stay together and away from the outside until Ava is
whelped. Then he can remove Hydra’s tampering?” Steve asked to verify what he
was being told. The only people he knew that had such power to tamper and hide
it were the Maximoff vampyres, and the connotations were not good.
“I guess some rogue Maximoff put the triggers in my head . . . a vampyre named
Kaecillius?” Bucky looked over at Steve, he licked his lips nervously.
Freezing, Steve gave Bucky a wide-eyed stare, his hands kneading the trousers
absently. “Kaecillius? Maximoff?” The older vampyre paled. “He’s one of the
oldest, most powerful of the clan.”
Bucky whimpered and pulled his knees to his chest, “I didn’t let him do it . .
. I don’t even know who he is . . .”
Dropping the pants, Steve whirled around and pulled Bucky into his arms,
holding the trembling nude body close. He dropped kisses on Bucky’s temple,
cheek, and lips. Of course you didn’t, my love. He has the ability to erase his
tampering, to do it against your will and hide all traces from anyone not a
Maximoff. Steve cupped his mate’s face and lifted it. “We know what happened,
for the most part, and Stephen said it can be fixed. What we should worry about
is why Kaecillius would be helping Hydra, Johann, and Pierce?”
“Seems like every power-hungry vampyre is taking up ranks with Hydra,” Bucky
spat bitterly.
“But why?” Steve asked, staring into his lover’s eyes, his own sapphire ones
intent and worried. “Why align with a group of known hunters and lesser known
torturers who create foul pseudo-vampyres?”
Tucking his head close to Steve’s chest, Bucky sighed and shrugged softly, “why
would people do a lot of things when searching for power? Gotta give some to
gain some, right?”
“So these vampyres are willing to give up their culture and people to create
their own?” Steve looked surprised. “Bucky, that’s brilliant! Of course, it
makes sense.” He kissed his Omega’s lips.
Smirking halfheartedly, Bucky shrugged, “well, someone’s gotta be . . . and it
sure as hell ain’t you.”
Laughing, Steve nodded. “No, I’ve never been the brightest lad in the school
room,” he agreed. The tall blond kissed his lover again. “So, we have some
possible answers. Feeling a little better, my precious Omega?”
“For someone who has triggers placed deep inside his head, and was sent to
destroy the man he loves? Oh, yeah, I’m peachy, Steve.” Bucky grumbled.
“So we need to figure out what to avoid?” Steve asked, “maybe Stephen can
figure out what they are even if he can’t stop them yet?”
Bucky sighed and dropped his head back down to rest on Steve’s chest, “he said
something about blocking them, yeah.”
“And he can block them without hurting Ava, right?” Steve cuddled him close.
“Well, I sure as hell hope so, considering the only reason he isn’t getting rid
of them completely is because of Ava,” Bucky answered.
“And why would taking out your triggers hurt Ava?” Steve asked in curiosity.
“I don’t know, Steve! I don’t have a clue what’s going on!” Bucky snapped,
voice rising in fear.
Nodding, Steve caressed down Bucky’s bare back, vertebra by vertebra. “Okay,
once he’s rested, we ask him directly,” Steve decided.
Sighing, Bucky leaned in closer to Steve, “I want them out now, Steve. I can’t
risk hurting anyone . . . maybe . . . maybe we should have Wanda put me under
until Ava can be whelped and the triggers removed?”
No! Please, Buck . . . don’t leave me? Steve held his mate close, fear suddenly
running through him. I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what to do to help and I’m so
sorry!
Steve, it’s not your fault, don’t be sorry. I’m trying to think of a solution
that will keep everyone safe. What if I do hurt you? Or Summer? Or Johnny?
Maybe I’d go after Peter, he wouldn’t stand a chance against me.
Shaking his head, burying his face in Bucky’s neck and scenting, Steve murmured
softly, “you haven’t yet, Bucky. The worse you’ve done is yell at me. We’ll be
okay.”
Pulling away to look at Steve, his pale eyes intense, Bucky demanded, “can you
promise me that? Can you promise me that if I start to go after someone you’d
be able to stop me? Would you let someone else stop me? Can you promise me?”
Steve frowned. “Bucky, let’s do what Stephen said, okay? He said rest
together.”
“Yeah, let’s ignore the elephant in the room . . . and just cuddle,” Bucky
shook his head, looking slightly irritated.
Sighing Steve shook his head. That’s not what I meant, love. But until we’ve
rested, we can't fight this. Stephen needs rest, too. If we stay apart from
everyone, like he said, things should be okay.
“Should,” Bucky echoed flatly and laid back down, his head resting on Steve’s
chest. He knew he should be hungry for a feeding, it had been well over an
hour, but the Omega didn’t really feel much of anything. “Shoulda just let me
die in the factory, Steve. Things would’ve been better that way.”
No! Steve hugged Bucky tighter, desperation and fear running through his link.
Please, Bucky, no! I need you! He buried his face in his mate’s neck and the
big vampyre began to tremble. I love you!
Bucky closed his eyes and swallowed, “I love you, too, Steve . . .” his voice
sounded almost robotic, void of emotion.
Steve kissed Bucky’s mate mark. “Please, Bucky, don’t leave me?”
“Okay,” Bucky nodded numbly but the agreement sounded flat, empty.
Steve tried but couldn’t hold back a sob, feeling as if he was losing his mate
far more than when they’d left Fury’s and Steve had pulled away. He kept his
face buried in the brunet’s neck, clinging; the big vampyre couldn’t stop the
fear he felt at . . . being alone, without Bucky, for the rest of his long
life.
Feeling Steve’s fear, Bucky blinked and looked at his mate, “Steve? Why are you
crying?”
I can’t lose you. I need you. I don’t know how to make you want to stay, to
keep trying. He couldn’t lift his face from his mate’s neck, afraid to see the
same dead look in them that laced Bucky’s voice.
Lose me? Steve, I’m not going anywhere . . . I love you . . . Bucky looked
confused, he tried to remember what the last thing he’d said to Steve. “We were
talking about triggers, right?”
Finally, lifting his face, Steve said, “you told me I should’ve let you die . .
. I can’t. I can't lose you like we lost Winnie, Bucky, please.” Desperation
laced every word.
Bucky looked horrified, his eyes wide, and he clutched at his head, “no . . .
no . . . we were talking about blocking the triggers . . . I wouldn’t say
something like that . . . I can’t remember!”
“You sounded so . . . devoid of anything.” Steve cupped Bucky’s face, eyes
searching his lover desperately.
“I can’t remember, Steve! I can’t . . . I didn’t say that! We were talking
about the triggers!” Bucky’s eyes were wide, laced with fear and desperation.
Steve dropped his face back to Bucky’s neck and just held him, sobbing softly,
body trembling. Unable to help, unsure how to stop this confusion and terror,
Steve said softly, “we talked about why they wanted to do this, and other stuff
. . . I don’t want to talk. Talking keeps getting us in trouble, Bucky.”
Bucky’s eyes brimmed with tears again, he let out a broken sob and let his body
curl into Steve’s strong frame, “I can’t remember . . .”
“Because talking about those monsters must be a trigger,” Steve lifted his
face, eyes golden with strong emotion. “Please, Bucky, let’s cuddle and love
one another? Please?”
The Omega nodded, not trusting himself to speak . . . what if he said something
else to hurt Steve?
At the nod from his Omega, Steve quickly stripped down, tossing his clothes at
the chair instead of neatly folding them. His desperation showed in every move,
every shaking breath. He wrapped himself around his lover and just held Bucky,
skin to skin, letting their energy flow and combine. Eventually, his trembling
stopped and his sobs dissipated.
Curling around Steve’s body, Bucky held his Alpha tightly, anchoring himself to
the blond. He’d never blanked like that before . . . whole chunks of memory
completely void in his mind. How many other things had he forgotten? What else
had he done over the past ten years that he had no memory of?
Slowly, Steve’s member grew erect at the the continued contact with his
beloved. He whispered, “Buck? Wanna feed?”
Coming back into reality, Bucky paused and realized he felt drained but not
necessarily hungry . . . but he didn’t want his Alpha to think that he didn’t
want him anymore, so he wordlessly nodded and scrambled to straddle Steve’s
hips. The Omega still didn’t trust himself to speak . . . he couldn’t hurt
Steve again. Although no slick eased the entry, Bucky began to ease himself
onto the large member.
Feeling the dryness, Steve gripped Bucky’s hips to stop him. “No, wait, Buck.
Let me help.”
Bucky released a shaky breath and nodded.
Easing Bucky off his member and pelvis, Steve offered a smile, a bit wavery, to
his lover. “Let me go get prepped, baby doll.” He rolled off the bed and headed
to the bathing room, much as he had in the early days.
The Omega got on his hand and knees, presenting himself for when the Alpha
returned. He wanted to make Steve happy . . . he hadn’t meant to make the blond
so upset.
Coming back in the room, Steve stopped and tilted his head. “Is this the way
you want me, Bucky?” They generally had Bucky sitting in Steve’s lap, rarely
ever trying other positions.
“Yes,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, he figured that was a safe enough
word to use. “Yes . . . please, Alpha.”
Nodding, Steve climbed onto the bed and caressed Bucky’s butt with his large
hands. “Ready?” Steve breathed, lining up his large member at his mate’s
entrance. The artificial slick had been applied heavily this time.
“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky answered, pushing back so that Steve’s swollen head
breached the tight ring of muscle. This would make Steve happy . . . he wanted
to be a good Omega . . . be a good mate.
Steve pushed slowly, carefully into his lover, unused to this position. He
clasped his lover’s hips as he bottomed out with a soft whimper. Across their
bond, the feeling of wanting to sooth and protect came forth.
Bucky’s arm trembled and he had to lower his torso to the bed to relieve the
weight, the brunet’s ass rising higher.
Sliding his arm under Bucky to support him, taking his Omega’s full weight,
Steve purred out, “there’s my good Omega, Bucky.” His voice lacked the sexual
element that often accompanied their feedings.
“Good Omega . . . I’m your good Omega,” Bucky repeated; he pushed back against
Steve. He didn’t feel the usual overwhelming pleasure that usually came with
Steve entering him. But, this wasn’t about Bucky . . . this was about making
Steve happy.
After a long while of deep, yet gentle, thrusts, Steve sat back on his heels,
dragging Bucky with him so the other man sat on Steve’s lap though the blond’s
legs were folded under them. He kissed at Bucky’s neck, brushing his beard
across the mate mark first on one side then the other. “I love you, my
beautiful Omega,” Steve breathed.
“Love you, Alpha,” Bucky said, using as little of his words as possible; he
moved with Steve’s thrusts, meeting the blond’s with his own.
It took some time before Steve maneuvered them once more, holding Bucky’s
weight in his arms as he shifted them to lying down on the bed, on their sides.
Steve remained embedded in his mate but stopped moving, holding Bucky tightly
and burying his face in the back of the man’s neck.
As Steve’s hips stilled, Bucky looked at the door, letting his body go lax in
the blond’s tight hold.
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve whispered against his mate’s neck. “I . . . I can use
an energy push to feed you if you want?”
“‘M not hungry,” Bucky answered, pale eyes watching the door closely.
“Want me to pull out, baby?” Steve offered, still fully embedded inside his
lover. Lifting his face, Steve stopped talking, looking from Bucky to the door.
What is it?
Just watching. I don’t want anyone else to come in here, Steve. Not until those
triggers are out of my head . . . I don’t trust myself around anyone. Bucky
continued to stare at the solid barrier.
Did you realize that Stephen said we both need help . . . do you suppose I have
triggers, too? Steve asked as he caressed Bucky’s abdomen, hand soothing over
the pup-bump.
Maybe, Bucky shrugged softly.
“Bucky?” Steve frowned and lifted his face again. I’ve upset you again . . .
No. I’m terrified I’ll say something to upset you. I’m a monster that is trying
to bring down our clan. Starting with you. You didn’t do anything. Bucky peeked
over his shoulder to look at his mate.
Sudden frustration raged through Steve and he pulled out carefully before
moving off the bed and into the bathing room. The blond could be heard running
water and washing.
Bucky slid off the bed and carefully stepped to the doorway of the bathing
room, “what did I say?” He asked softly, watching his mate warily.
“You’re not a monster,” Steve ground out, not looking up. He finished washing
off the artificial slick and tossed the cloth into the hamper. Turning, Steve
began filling the tub.
“I am, Steve,” Bucky said back, “I am a monster that was sent to destroy your
clan.”
Steve suddenly whirled on Bucky with an intent glare, eyes lit with bright
golden fire. He looked angry and frustrated. Turning, he strode from the room
and pulled on a robe then walked to the thick curtains across one of the large
windows. Steve slipped out of the curtains to the balcony outside.
Sighing, Bucky walked over to the tub and turned off the running water, not
wanting the tub to overfill. The brunet didn’t even clean himself up, he simply
walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of soft cotton pants and a
equally soft shirt. He put the clothes on and ran his fingers through his hair.
A sound, like murmuring, came from the balcony, soft and unintelligible.
The brunet walked over to the door, slightly ajar and said, “I’m sorry, Steve.”
The voices stopped and Steve softly said, “we’re tired, love. We need rest.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky agreed softly, his tone entirely submissive even though
Steve could no longer compel him.
Steve didn’t return from outside, and a voice, murmuring once more, started
back up on the balcony, followed by Steve’s soft murmur.
“Who are you talking to?” Bucky asked, he didn’t go outside; he wouldn’t unless
Steve told him it was okay . . . the Omega didn’t want to intrude.
“Talking to?” Steve sounded confused. “Who’d be on this high up?” Steve opened
the curtain. No one seemed to be there with the large blond, who’s eyes were
fading back to blue.
“You . . . there - -” Bucky stammered, looking completely confused, he stepped
outside and looked around, even peering off the edge of the balcony.
Steve was alone on the balcony, looking genuinely confused, all sense of anger
and frustration leeched away.
“There was another voice!” Bucky whirled around to look at his mate, “You were
talking to someone!”
Steve looked baffled. “You heard someone else?” Worry crossed his eyes and he
started looking around, examining every place someone might hide, including
looking over and under the outcropping of marble he stood on.
“Why are you lying? You were responding, Steve!” Bucky eyes were wide . . . was
he hearing things now? Was he actually going insane?
“Lying?” Steve looked shocked and confused. “Buck, I don’t lie to you! Why
would I bother? You can hear my thoughts.” Steve’s thoughts were fuzzy and
sleepy, though confusion and a touch of fear laced them.
“But there was someone else! There was murmuring . . . you were - -” Bucky
looked around again, he sniffed the air, trying to catch onto the mystery
person’s scent. It smelled like Steve, rain coming in, and a faint musty hint
of marigolds or tombs.
The blond’s emotions seemed to run confused and his thoughts certainly weren’t
clear; he seemed lost and exhausted. “I . . . was talking to someone? But who
would I have talked to, Bucky?” He looked around the room.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Bucky exclaimed; he hurried into the room, his
hand gripping his hair tightly . . . what was going on? What was happening to
him?
“Looking at you?” Steve finally did look at Bucky. He followed. “Buck . . .
we’re fighting again. Why? How?”
Bucky collapsed to the floor, pressing his forehead against the smooth hard
wood, his fingers continued to tug painfully on his short locks.
Worried, Steve dropped down to pull Bucky into his tight embrace, the silk and
satin of his robe brushing against Bucky’s body, a whisper against the brunet’s
own clothes. “Love?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, knuckles turning white from how tightly he gripped his
hair, Bucky whimpered, “what’s happening to me?”
“The more we try to tiptoe around anything that might trigger, the more we seem
to trigger, Buck,” Steve whispered.
“I need them out, Steve . . . I need them gone . . . I can’t live like this . .
. please?”
“Bucky, Wanda’s only a youth, she’s not trained enough. And Stephen is
resting.” He hugged Bucky to him, tightly.
Bucky sobbed, his whole body shaking and trembling, “I’m scared . . .”
“Me, too, baby,” Steve whispered, kissing Bucky’s neck. He rocked the other
man, not bothering to leave the floor. As he sented at Bucky’s neck, the brunet
heard a soft, almost imperceptible whisper of noise from the still opened,
still uncurtained balcony.
Bucky whirled around and scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping on his way out.
A shadow of a shadow seemed to disappear up the roof and out of sight before it
could really registred. Someone, or something, really had been out there with
Steve.
“Bucky?” Steve called in worry and confusion. “Baby?”
“I saw it!” Bucky said desperately, he climbed up on the railing of the
balcony.
Leaping to his feet and hurrying over to Bucky’s side, Steve looked around once
more. “What did you see, Buck?” Shocked, Steve pulled at Bucky’s clothes to
stop him jumping or falling. “Buck!”
“Stop! Let me go after it! I’m not insane! I saw it!” Bucky didn’t move from
the ledge.
“You aren’t a flier, Bucky!” Steve called desperately.
Bucky rolled his eyes and walked along the narrow edge until he made it to the
house, until he was climbing up the side of the house. The slightly darker
shadow seemed to creep up to the unused widow’s walk and disappear inside it.
Scrambling to try to catch his lover, and missing, Steve climbed up as well,
desperate to stop Bucky from this apparently self-destructive behavior. “Bucky,
please . . .”
The Omega didn’t listening, hauling himself up, using his legs and only arm;
his movements were graceful and controlled. The brunet finally made it to the
widow’s walk and looked around, surveying the area completely.
It was empty, only the smell of musky marigolds or a tomb in the rain-ladened
air.
Bucky, please! Don’t hurt yourself! Steve’s mental voice sounded less fuzzy and
certainly more desperate.
I’m fine, Steve! Bucky snapped, his frustration at losing the shadow leaking
into his tone. He continued to look around. It was just here! How could he have
missed it?
Steve didn’t respond, his mental feelings seeming to go very exhausted, as if
he was hit with the events of the days all at once.
Bucky collapsed onto the edge of one of the benches; he closed his eyes and
threw his head in his hand. He’d heard it . . . he’d seen it. He wasn’t insane.
Steve had been talking to it . . . why was the blond lying to him?
Steve thoughts remained fuzzy and tired, not really coherent. He had stopped
climbing up after Bucky, stopped calling to him, apparently giving up and
letting the brunet do what he wanted. After all, it wasn’t as if Steve could
compel Bucky to safety, was it?
The Omega sighed and stood back up, he looked over the edge to check on Steve.
Steve stood on the balcony rail still, staring out at the vast city below them,
swaying slightly. Once in awhile a murmuring noise came to the brunet on the
rain-scented wind.
Looking down, Bucky judged if he could make the landing from this high up.
The shadow seemed to be creeping in slow circles around Steve, who never looked
at it.
Seeing no other choice, Bucky jumped from the walkway onto the balcony a few
stories down, the landing snapped a bone in Bucky’s ankle and the Omega tumbled
onto the hard, marble surface, scraping his cheekbone roughly as it hit the
cool marble.
A hiss sounded as Bucky’s foot caught part of the shadow and the thing scuttled
away, Steve lurching slightly on the rail, his thoughts almost blank, as if he
slept walk. Even the pain of his Omega didn’t seem to go through the bond to
alert the Alpha.
Ignoring the throbbing in his ankle and the various cuts and bruises from
making the harsh landing, the Omega lurched forward and tugged Steve off the
ledge, pulling him back onto the balcony.
The blond tumbled backwards without resisting, collapsing onto the ground,
nearly missing landing on his mate. His head hit the hard ground and his eyes
rolled back. The bond went dark, like it did when Steve slept, a low coursing
of emotions but no coherent thoughts.
“Steve!” Bucky shouted, crawling over to his mate, his right leg dragging
slightly.
A golden leak spread slowly around the blond’s head across the marble balcony.
The Omega pressed his lips to Steve’s, giving the Alpha some of his stored
energy, draining his already low supply. “Come on, Steve . . . I’m sorry! C’mon
. . .” Bucky urged, tugging off his shirt and untying the front of Steve’s
robe. He pressed their bodies together and continued kissing his unconscious
mate, draining himself more and more.
The door opened and Natasha and Clint rushed in. “Bucky, back away!”
The Omega instantly obeyed the order.
Clint hurried over and grabbed the other Omega, pulling him against his own
loosely robed body and started sharing his own energy with the drained brunet.
“No! Get off me!” Bucky screamed, far too gone in his fear at the sight of his
unconscious mate, pushing at Clint, who fought to keep ahold of the taller man.
“Alpha, he needs energy,” Clint called, sounding serious and calm.
“Bucky, stop fighting! Accept Clint’s energy!” Natasha ordered as she knelt
down next to Steve, she placed a hand under his head, over the injury and began
to push a strong force of energy.
The scent of marigolds or a tomb hung heavy in the air, odd in the outdoors
where no such flowered or enclosed areas would be.
Bucky whimpered but stilled, his entire body frozen stiff in Clint’s embrace.
The other Omega didn’t seem to care that Bucky was compelled to obey. He merely
pushed his high energy, often used with pacing and other games, into the brunet
as quickly as he could.
Steve’s sapphire eyes fluttered open, his mind not the least fuzzy, though he
was confused and in pain. His head began to heal quickly with the extra surge
he’d been given.
Natasha withdrew her hand, “Clint, darling, you can let go of Bucky now. Bucky,
I release you of all orders.”
Immediately, Clint let Bucky go, but didn’t let him stumble or fall. He stepped
back from the brunet. “What did that thing do to them, Alpha?” he whispered.
Bucky’s ankle still throbbed, most of Clint’s energy going straight to Ava, the
Omega knelt down next to Steve, his eyes wide.
“Bucky?” Steve reached up shaking arms to clasp his love and pull him close.
“You were climbing the house! God, you scared me!”
“I scared you?” Bucky asked incredulously, “that shadow thing was circling you!
You were about to fall off the ledge!”
“Shadow?” Steve looked genuinely confused. “What shadow? I was on the ledge to
stop you, but you were too quick. I . . .” he blinked and one hand went to his
head. “Did I fall?”
“I pulled you back . . . you were about to fall off the balcony ledge,” Bucky
answered.
“I,” he blinked over at Natasha then back to his mate, “everything’s fuzzy. I .
. . I don’t remember?”
“This shadow creature tormented and drove Bucky to the edge then toyed with him
and separated him from you in order to hurt you . . . Bucky chased it away too
quickly or you might have jumped or fallen off the balcony,” Natasha informed
Steve.
Clint stiffened. “I thought I recognized it, Alpha,” he said, voice cold and
almost angry. “It was a vampir. They can control thoughts and can fly. They are
the end product of Hydra’s experiments.”
Bucky winced as he sat down, the minor scrapes had healed but the ankle and
some of the deeper bruising on his torso from tumbling after he’d fallen still
throbbed.
“A vampir?” Steve pulled his mate closer. “Hydra sent a vampir to attack us?”
“It looks like it,” Natasha sighed and shook her head.
“Alpha,” Clint ventured, “could a vampir have been whispering to them all this
time? Causing the fights and triggers?” The stocky blond let a hand fall over
his large abdomen.
Natasha quirked a brow, looking thoughtful, “yes, it could have.”
“We should shut off the balconies and widow’s walk after we check to make sure
it didn’t try to get in,” Clint said softly.
“Yes, come, my darling, we will check the rooms. Perhaps Wade and Peter can
help us,” Natasha said as she stood back up, dusting herself up.
Nodding, Clint looked at the pair of overwhelmed, injured lovers. “I’ll check
this balcony and room, Alpha.” He strode to the open door leading outside. “It
smells like the tomb, so you can identify it.” He checked every crevice and
came backing into the room, shutting and locking the balcony before pulling the
curtains closed firmly. “Clear,” he said.
“Good,” Natasha nodded approvingly, “let us check the others,” she slipped out
of the room on her quiet footsteps.
Nodding, Clint glanced at the pair. “I’m not Alpha, but I suggest you two go
climb in the bath, far from windows, and relax. Try to heal. Without that thing
whispering at you, you should be able to have a normal conversation again.” The
former hunter left the room, giving a quick check to the rest of the suite,
though knowing a vampir wouldn’t have gotten inside . . . he’d seen it dart
off.
Hissing as he slowly rose to his feet, Bucky offered his hand to Steve, keeping
as much weight as he could off the injured ankle.
Steve instantly stood and picked up Bucky, holding him close. The large blond
carried his mate towards the bathing room and frowned at the tub. When did you
fill the tub, love?
You did, right before you went on the balcony, Bucky answered, looking at the
tub of water.
“I don’t remember that. I remember . . . never mind. I don’t wanna dredge it
back up in case something triggers again,” Steve sighed and carried his love to
the tub. Dragining some of the water out, Steve eased the brunet inside then
ran more hot water into the tub to warm it back up. He didn’t care that Bucky
was fully dressed. Rather, Steve, robe and all, also slipped in and began
slowly undressing his mate in the warming water.
Bucky’s chest was covered in multiple golden bruises, as well as a scrape on
his cheek bone. His ankle felt swollen and Bucky didn’t have to look to know
that the limb would be heavily bruised.
“My poor Omega . . . you got these saving me? My brave, lovely Omega,” Steve
murmured, gently kissing and energy-infusing each bruise and scrape he found,
beard scraping lightly over the flesh as he moved his plush lips from place to
place.
Bucky mewled and arched into Steve's gentle touch, the small influx of energy
felt amazing on his sore body. The Omega trembled with exertion, the pup in his
womb steadily absorbing most of what Steve gave him, making it so that the
brunet's wounds were not healing, the bright gold bruises practically shimmered
in the low lighting of the washroom, painting Bucky's skin in morbid beauty.
Steve carefully maneuvered his lover so that the blond could ease the burnet’s
swollen ankle from the water. He bent at an odd angle and began kissing the
limb, using a slightly higher energy surge for such an injury, knowing Ava took
most of his gifts. Steve would have to orally feed Bucky life-seed to heal him,
but for now, he worked on paying attention to each and every bruise his mate
displayed. “My beautiful, brave mate, defending me, protecting me. My
wonderful, beautiful Omega mate,” he purred in approval.
The Omega whimpered slightly as Steve’s lips touched the incredibly tender
joint, “I love you, Stevie . . . couldn’t let anything happen to you . . .”
Making an odd noise in this throat, Steve whispered, “and I don’t even remember
this. I hate vampir more than I realized if they’ll do this to us.” He lifted
his head. “Do you want a direct feeding, love? So you can heal?”
The brunet winced and nodded, “yes . . . please, Alpha?”
Nodding, Steve slipped from the tub and carefully removed Bucky, laying him
directly on the wet tiling of the bathing room floor. The large blond took the
brunet’s member in one calloused hand and cupped his heavy sac in the other.
Offering Bucky a sweet smile, Steve bent over and began to lap at his mate’s
spongy cockhead, letting his tongue playfully glide over the slit and down to
the sensitive under flesh just behind the head.
Bucky gasped, back arching off the cold, wet tile at the unexpected pleasurable
feeling of Steve’s mouth on his member. This was not what the brunet expected
when Steve offered a direct feeding. Would this even heal his injuries?
Sitting back on his own heels, Steve looked down at the decadent display in
front of him. “Ready to feed love? I’ve got you closer to your own release, too
. . . so Ava can feed, too.” He began to move, shuffling on his knees, towards
Bucky’s head, holding his own member steady.
Sitting up with a small wince, Bucky took the blond’s erection in his mouth,
engulfing the large tool in one smooth swallow. The Omega’s tongue swirled
around the sensitive flesh.
Groaning, Steve gently pushed Bucky back, removing his own member from that
delicious heat. “Soon, baby. Let me turn around? I can work on you, too, and
Ava’ll get the energy of our releases combined, while you get the life seed.”
He gently pushed Bucky to lay back on the ground and got to his mate’s head
then, shifting carefully, turned around. Looking back down at Bucky, Steve
leaned forward so he was over his mate, Bucky’s member bobbing in front of
Steve’s mouth, and Steve’s dangling stiffly over Bucky’s. “There we go, Buck .
. .” He had been reading in some of his spare time on ways to exchange
pleasure.
The brunet looked slightly confused; they’d never done anything like this
before . . . he’d never done anything like this before. Pushing away his
anxiety, the Omega pushed up again and lapped at Steve’s cockhead, his tongue
flicking over the slit, already beading with precum.
With a soft moan of approval mixed with pleasure for his mate’s wonderful
mouth, Steve slowly began lapping at Bucky’s erection once more, actually
mimicking his mate's actions, almost as if whatever Bucky did to Steve, he
would feel on himself.
Bucky’s hips jerked; he’d never actually been on the receiving end of oral sex.
The sensation made his veins burn with need as the brunet took in more of
Steve’s erection, sucking and swirling his tongue as he did so.
Without much trouble, Steve copied Bucky’s ministrations, swirling his tongue
as he sucked his mate down little by little, reaching one hand to balance on
the floor while the other gently began fondling Bucky’s sac.
Moaning around the large tool filling his mouth, Bucky fought to keep his own
hips still, remembering how Steve had told him he’d never done oral sex before
Bucky . . . the Omega didn’t want to choke his lover.
Apparently his lack of experience didn’t hold Steve back from attempting some
things as he pulled his mouth off the top, obscenely popping his lips then
licking them and offering his mate a grin. He began running his tongue up and
down the sensitive underside, tracing the large vein of pure energy along
Bucky’s shaft.
Bucky’s whole body jerked at the intense pleasure of Steve’s tongue, the sudden
movement caused the brunet to accidently force the Alpha’s member deeper down
the Omega’s throat, making him gag and choke.
Looking down between them to judge Bucky’s reactions, Steve frowned softly, his
mouth moving away from his lover’s erection. “Buck? You okay?”
Not used to it. Sorry . . . Bucky voice called in Steve’s mind.
We can switch back to the other way if you’d rather? Steve asked, still
watching, his fingers playing lightly over the velvety hardness.
No, it’s fine. Feels good. Just not used to it, is all, Bucky amended; he
relaxed his throat to take more of his lover, swallowing down the rest of the
impressive length.
Nodding once, Steve turned back to his Omega’s needy rod and began licking
again, tongue swirling up and down as he tasted the other man. Daringly, the
blond slid his tongue curiously over Bucky’s balls, lapping then carefully
sucking one in, switching to the other and humming in pleasure at finding he
licked this.
Bucking his hips, the Omega moaned again, the noise causing a deep vibration to
run up Steve’s entire length.
God, Buck! That’s . . . Steve’s mental voice even panted, stuttering at the
pleasure. That’s . . . amazing . . .
Repeating the moan, deepening the humming, Bucky’s hips fought to stay still;
slick trickled down from his entrance, the Omega’s sugary, lustful scent
permeating throughout the room. Focusing on his task, Bucky hollowed his cheeks
and began to swallow around the thick shaft down his throat, humming and
moaning as he did.
Bucky, you drive me wild. I’m getting close already, love! Steve’s tone was
approving despite the warning. He went back to licking circles up his lover’s
shaft until he enclosed the head in his hot mouth, sucking even if he wasn’t
yet able to deepthroat. He did take about two inches of his lover into his
mouth and began imitating Bucky’s humming.
Oh, shit . . . Stevie . . . fuck, Bucky’s hips lifted off the floor, despite
his best efforts to keep them still as he tried to focus on not choking around
Steve’s member.
As if an old memory, or maybe muscle memory, came back after decades buried,
Steve suddenly opened his throat and took Bucky in, balls deep, though he
stopped humming. His voice sounded far away and a bit dull as he said Like
this?
Bucky immediately pulled off Steve, causing himself to gag once more, and
scrambled to get from under the blond.
A puzzled look crossed the blond’s handsome face and he reached for his mate,
his eyes a dark blue. “What? Did I hurt you?” Something about his mind said he
was closing memories down, shutting them tight once more as he worried about
Bucky.
“Your . . . your voice?” Bucky shook his head, “it was empty . . . did - - did
Pierce make you do this, Steve?” The Omega looked at his mate with worried
eyes.
A dull flush crept over the paler vampyre’s skin and he dropped his eyes. “I’m
sorry. Had a . . . uh . . . bad memory is all. I’m okay now.” His total
avoidance of the subject was confirmation that, actively recalled or not,
Pierce must have done something similar to Steve.
Bucky’s eyes softened, he crawled over to Steve and wrapped his arm around the
blond, “it’s okay, Steve . . . I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know.”
“Neither did I,” Steve confirmed. “A lot of what he put me through was buried
when I was in the safehouse.” He looked at Bucky. “I’m not in pain. It just . .
. felt . . . like I knew what to do suddenly? But, I was getting lost, too.” He
shook his head, unable to explain how the memory of choking down Pierce night
after night had suddenly threatened him.
The Omega nodded in understanding,\; he slid back from his mate slightly,
though their knees still touched. He looked down at his ankle and was happy to
see that most of it was healed, just a little light bruising.
“Bucky,” Steve asked softly, worry lacing his voice, “did Pierce ever . . . do
sexual things to you, too?”
The brunet flushed and ducked his head; scrambling to his feet the Omega said,
“you tired? I’m tired . . . maybe we should go lay down?” Bucky needed to get
away from this conversation . . . he’d buried things deep . . . and he didn’t
want them to come out - - he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop if he started.
Steve let his head hang down, shoulders bowing. “I’ll join you in a moment,
baby,” he softly said, hands hanging dejectedly in his lap, all sign of his
erection gone.
Bucky’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything else; the Omega stepped out of
the washroom and slipped under the covers on the plush bed.
After a long moment, the sound of Steve draining the tub came from the washing
room. Slowly, Steve left the room, dousing the gaslights as he went, darkening
the rooms as he moved, still undressed, to the bed. Silently, he pulled back
the covers on his side and slipped in, blond hair still damp as he lay against
the pillow. A moment of hesitation seemed to tremble through him before he
reached over to touch Bucky’s arm. Goodnight?
“I didn’t want to,” Bucky said softly, his back still to Steve, “he said that I
needed to pay for the housing and food he gave me. He made me suck off some of
the guys on the board while he watched . . . he never actually touched me.”
Yeah, sounds familiar. I needed to pay for being reborn and all his feedings.
Steve stroked Bucky’s back lightly. “What he never had with me was this mental
communication, love, this knowing each other. He never had love. Will that be
enough for you? Steve stroked Bucky’s back again. Will my love be enough for
you?
Turning to face Steve, pale eyes sparkling in the darkness, Bucky leaned
forward to place a kiss on the blond’s lips, your love is all I’ll ever need,
Steve.
In the dark, Steve’s sapphire eyes glowed with a faint golden fire. Smiling
into the kiss and kissing back, beard rasping softly against the brunet’s face
as he spoke, Steve verbally said, “and the only price I ask is your love, my
Omega.”
“That, my dear Alpha, is a price I’m willing to pay,” Bucky whispered against
the blond’s mouth.
***** Of Forgotten and Revisited *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
A month of uneasy tension passed with Steve and Bucky mainly confined to their
suite. They were permitted the run of the house, as long as anyone they
encountered was not alone. Also, neither vampyre was allowed to leave, or even
to open their windows and enjoy the balcony or the rooftop widow’s walk,
preventing a vampir access. The only place Steve really went on a regular basis
was the underground vaults. Other than that, he remained with Bucky, nurturing
their bond.
Finally, as Steve sat in the crowded drawing room, Bucky wrapped loosely in his
arms so the Omega could at least cuddle their adoptive pup, Stephen Maximoff
walked in. He barely glanced at the room, at the entire household gathered for
a quiet night of talking. Rather, he looked directly at Natasha, who had
assumed leadership of the house in Steve’s confinement. “I have found her,” was
all he said before turning back to the hallway.
Shooting to her feet, the small Alpha followed Stephen out into the hallway,
“you have? And you think this will help Steve?”
“She dealt with him the first time, did she not?” Stephen responded. He
gestured towards a petite brunet woman accompanied by a slightly taller fresh-
faced blonde woman. “Steve Rogers’ surrogate sire.”
The woman looked at the pair and bowed slightly at the shoulders, her accent
when she spoke sounding very properly British. “Thank you for the invitation.
I’m Margaret, this is Sharon.”
The blonde woman bowed respectfully at the shoulders and smiled sweetly, “thank
you.”
Natasha nodded in return, her emerald eyes looking at Margaret, “we think that
Steve might need your help again, Margaret . . . he is slipping back into his
guilt.”
Frowning, the brunet nodded. “That happens sometimes, when an immature feels
overwhelmed and confused. Tell me, please, what has happened recently that
might make him feel that way?”
“What hasn’t happened,” Natasha started with a sigh, “he turned his first
newborn, who just so happens to be the ex-hunter known as the ‘Winter Soldier,’
mated him within the first day of conversion, the Omega got pregnant with a pup
while still a newborn only to lose her after two months. They adopted a pre-pup
from the Summers massacre, now Dam Rogers is pregnant again . . . but there is
tampering with both their minds, making them react violently.” The redhead
stopped and released breath.
Nodding, Margaret drew off her outdoor gloves and long coat. She placed them
neatly on the hall table, followed by her hat. “When he was a newborn, he was
knotted and impregnated,” she began, “and his sire took the pup from him when
it was whelped. In order to control Steven, Alexander brought in an old friend
of his, Kaecillius, to calm his mind and ease the guilt of losing the pup. A
guilt, I might add, that Alexander placed there by constantly reminding Steven
how young and unequipped he was to do anything remotely natural, especially
raise a pup.” She turned her disapproving gaze, mouth pursed, back on Natasha.
“It turns out that Pierce had his friend wipe Steven’s mind of several
traumatic events, which of course never works for long. The memories are still
there but will surface with triggers.” The British vampyre smoothed her hands
down her bodice and long skirt. “So, something about all of these events
triggered him to feel guilty and inadequate once more?”
“He and Dam Rogers are true mates, and Steve cut himself off from their bond
just last month. We found out that Steve had troubles with compelling and Dam
Rogers had issues with being compelled,” Natasha added.
“Well, if you had learned what I had while tending him, you would understand
this far easier. It is a brutal story and I think I may have some ideas, though
the cutting of the bond would have to have been caused by someone instructing
him to do so.” Margaret studied Natasha’s face, as if she could get more
answers from the woman than by mere words.
“You mean . . . someone compelled Steve to cut off the bond with his mate? Who
could compel an Alpha?” Natasha tilted her head in obvious confusion and
concern.
“We need to speak in more depth before I go to my former youth. Where may we
talk?” Margaret tore her eyes from Natasha’s worried face to glance over a
house she hadn’t seen in decades.
Natasha gestured for all those in the hall to follow her, she led them into a
smaller office room. Shutting the room as Stephen trailed in behind Sharon, the
safehouse leader looked at Margaret, “who could compel Steve?”
“Either his former sire or Kaecillius,” Margaret answered as she sank onto the
edge of a chair, smoothing her skirts as she did so. “But this is worse than
you think, Natasha. Steven was badly abused as a newborn and fledgling. Not
only was he basically programmed to let Alexander do whatever the monster
desired, Steven was made to tend several other of Alexander’s close friends,
such as Johann or Kaecillius. The Maximoff would erase or block what he could,
including two pre-pups Johann forcibly removed before whelping and their
horrible deaths.”
She raised her eyes to meet Natasha’s. “So, anything that has happened recently
could be a trigger. It was under my express recommendation to never let him
sire a newborn that the council allowed him to stay out of confinement.”
“And Dam Rogers wasn’t exactly the easiest newborn, either . . .” Natasha
tapped her finger against her lips, eyes narrowed in thought.
“And losing a pre-pup, like he’s done twice before, though his memories may or
may not have registered the previous losses, would be another horrible trigger.
Certain words Alexander and his friends would use might cause Steven to become
violent or defensive or even to shut down.” Margaret shook her head, eyes
locked in a glared not intended for the Romanov but leveled on her all the
same. “The word bitch was one of those, as well as the idea that he should die
because he was so useless.”
“He did remove another Alpha’s spine when the Alpha called his mate a bitch . .
. so that makes sense,” Natasha didn’t seemed phased by the intense glare.
Stephen sighed suddenly, interrupting the two female vampyres. “And since we
know Hydra is run by Alexander Rogers, or Pierce, and that he trained the
‘Winter Soldier,’ then it is safe to assume that Alexander Pierce taught Dam
Rogers those triggers, even if he is not aware of those lessons. The triggers
would send off emotional reactions through their bond as well. Whatever
triggers Alexander Pierce instilled in Dam Rogers would also set off Steve
Rogers due to this bond.”
“And we can’t remove Dam Rogers’ triggers until the pup is whelped,” Natasha
sighed.
Rolling his eyes, Stephen corrected, “I could have done it the first day with
no harm to anyone.”
Turning to look at Stephen with a quirked brow, Natasha said, “you told him the
procedure could hurt the pup, Stephen.”
“Of course I did. Use your brain, Natasha. If you were to tell a trained, very
likely abused, fighter that his violent triggers could be removed within five
minutes, would he believe you?” The dark-haired man shook his head. “Dam Rogers
would never believe it can be that easy. He will think it has to be a struggle
filled with pain and trauma. Thus, while keeping him in constant check, I have
allowed him to go through the pain and trauma he feels he must to atone for
what was beyond his control. Once the pup is whelped, I can remove the trigger
link and he will feel the three months of torture were payment.”
Natasha blinked slowly, her face falling into the deadly neutral calm, “that is
cruel, Stephen Maximoff.”
“Natasha Romanov, what you do not understand is that if a subject were to fight
the process, it will not work properly. Even a Maximoff has limits, though I
less than most, and if Dam Rogers feels this is too easy, he would reject my
trigger breaks and double the bond that links them. This would make future
attempts that much harder and his reactions to the bonds that much more
violent. Please allow me the respect of believing I know my own abilities.” The
man crossed his arms over his chest.
Natasha’s emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the tall Alpha but after a
few moments she turned back to the other two females in the room; she gestured
to Sharon, “she wouldn’t happen to be one of Steve’s? She looks a lot like him
. . .”
Drawing a sigh, Margaret glanced up at Sharon and nodded slowly. “Actually, she
is, but not from his abuse.” The brunet looked back at Natasha. “He was about
to be cleared by the circle when I found out I’d become pregnant. It was
determined best not to tell Steve about a possible pup due to his past trauma.
Thus, she has remained with me on the other side of the pond all these
decades.”
“Three pups and a fourth on the way,” Natasha shook her head.
“Well, not exactly,” Margaret said. “By my count, he had a son, who Pierce gave
away, and the two Johann killed, then Sharon, plus the one Dam Rogers lost, and
the one they adopted, and now another on the way. And he was recommended never
to convert someone nor form a relationship. I’m surprised the circle didn’t put
him in containment if he proved unstable after allowed to thwart my
recommendations.”
“They tried . . . I still feel as if the council is trying to sweep both Steve
and Dam Rogers into containment . . . but they haven’t gotten strong enough
evidence yet,” Natasha answered.
“And you told Steve of your recommendations, Margaret?” Stephen asked.
“No, the council assured me that was in their domain, not mine, and I was not
permitted further contact directly after his maturity had been established.”
Margaret finally rose back to her feet, frowning fiercely once more, eyes
snapping with a silver fire known only to the Carter clan.
“I do not believe they passed along that message, Margaret. Maybe they wished
for him to convert a newborn only for him to lose control . . . so they could
force him into containment?” Natasha offered.
“They could have simply put him in containment despite my evaluation then. Why
would the council want to do that?” She didn’t refute the claim. “And what
would be their end goal? That was over two hundred fifty years ago.”
“Perhaps they believed Steve would lead them to Alexander?” Sharon piped up
from Peggy’s side, “Alexander did go rogue after Steve was rescued, yes?”
“Within the year, Sharon, yes,” Margaret confirmed.
“Well, vampyres are usually drawn to the one’s who created them,” Sharon
offered, looking to her dam.
Nodding, Margaret drew a deep breath. “Well, I believe my closeness has driven
Steven barmy enough. I should go say hello and introduce him to Sharon. If the
council refused to abide by my evaluation, I will bloody well deal with this my
own way.” She smiled at the others. “And, please, call me Peggy. If we’re going
to defy the council together, I might as well consider you friends.”
“Alright, Peggy, this way,” Natasha smiled approvingly and led the group back
into the drawing room.
Steve had been restless since Nat and Stephen had left about some female
Stephen had tracked down. He had continued to hold his mate and pup, but
something in the air seemed to call to him. His blood felt on fire.
Bucky noticed the his mate’s distress and offered Steve a concerned frown, his
pale eyes looked at the blond intently, searching his face, “everything okay,
Steve?”
“I burn,” he whispered, puzzled. He kissed Bucky’s neck.
The burning sensation Steve felt bled through the bond, making Bucky squirm and
keen softly, the fiery pain in his veins felt just as bad as when he had been a
newborn. You’re making us both go into heat, Steve.
Shaking his head, Steve looked down at his mate. I don’t mean to, Bucky.
Bucky shifted his hips, trying to get comfortable again but the burning only
seemed to intensify with the movement, the Omega could feel his natural slick
begin run.
Riley frowned and glanced over to Sam without a word.
Sam looked over at Steve and Bucky with a tilted head, he rose from where he’d
been sitting next to Riley. Carefully, almost cautiously, he asked, “you two
alright?”
Steve shook his head, looking up at his oldest friend. “My veins burn . . .”
“Your veins . . .” Sam shook his head, looking puzzled.
“Pierce?” Riley asked softly, still watching Sam. “If a mature Alpha gets close
to its sire, the newborn fire lights until they touch once more.”
Bucky handed Summer over to Johnny; once his hand was free the brunet used the
table to push to his feet, limbs shaky and trembling with the intense feeling
of need that seeped from Steve through their bond.
Bucky? Don’t leave me? Steve pleaded, reaching for his Omega.
I’m about to bend over the fucking table and beg you to fuck me, Steve . . .
Bucky’s tone wasn’t mad, just desperate, he didn’t pull away from Steve’s hand.
Over the bond, Bucky could feel the spark of interest that Steve nobly fought.
You wanna do it? Wanna bend me over the table in front of all our friends . . .
haven’t done that since Tony’s . . . Bucky’s mind seemed to be taken over by
the increasing desire to be filled . . . to be claimed.
A low moan escaped Steve and he closed his eyes, already thickening at the
image his mate created over their bond. The drawing room door opened, barely
distracting the large blond, and Stephen guided Natasha and two other women in.
“Hello, Steve,” the brunet female said in a smooth, British accent, drawing
Steve's eyes to snap open and his mouth to drop in shock.
“Peggy?” The blond squirmed.
Quickly, the woman called Peggy strode over and touched Steve’s face with a
gentle hand. The fire dissipated to a low hum; the bond transmitted the sudden
calm to the Omega. “Hello, my dear. It has been some time.”
Bucky gasped at the change, he blinked a few times to clear his head; his hand
clasped Steve’s hand tightly. Did she just call you my dear? The Omega shook
his head roughly a few times, trying to rid his head of the lasting effects of
the sudden, strong hunger heat.
“Peggy!” Steve said, but silently he answered Bucky, yes, she always calls me
that. “What are you doing in New York, Peg?” Steve finally got to his feet.
“I came because I was told you needed me again, Steven, dear,” Peggy smiled and
looked to Bucky. Holding out a hand, she said smoothly, “you must be Dam
Rogers?”
The brunet’s hand only squeezed Steve’s tighter; the lean Omega stepped closer
to his mate, almost as if the brunet wanted to hide behind the large build of
his Alpha. His pale eyes trailed down Peggy’s form, assessing her. Why had this
woman called his mate dear?
Dropping her hand with a nod, Peggy continued to smile softly. “Steven? Would
you introduce us? I believe I may have offended your dam by ignoring protocol.”
“Uh . . .” Steve glanced back at Bucky then towards Peggy. “Bucky, this is
Peggy . . . Margaret Carter. This is my mate, James Barnes.” He pulled Bucky
against him with one arm.
Bucky offered the female Alpha a curt nod, his eyes focused on the floor near
her feet; he knew he was being rude . . . this was not how he should be acting
as the dam of the household . . . but something about the woman made his skin
crawl and his energy to rush through his veins.
“This is my daughter, Sharon Carter,” Peggy said, still watching the pair
carefully.
“Daughter?” Steve blinked. “I didn’t know you had a mate, Peg.”
“I do not,” Peggy confirmed. She looked once more at Bucky. “How long are you?”
she asked politely.
“Three months,” Bucky answered sharply, still looking at the floor.
“I was petrified every second with Sharon,” Peggy ventured, her attention on
the obviously unhappy Omega.
Bucky looked up at Steve, “may I be excused, Alpha? I’m tired . . .”
Knowing that Bucky always felt tired when he didn’t want to face a situation,
Steve sighed. “Excuse me, Peggy. We’ll catch up later.”
“No,” Bucky said quickly, “you stay and visit . . . I’m just going to rest in
the room.”
Frowning, Steve mentally said Buck? Is something wrong?
I’m fine, Steve. Just tired. Can I please be excused? Bucky looked up at his
mate.
You’re free to go wherever you want in the house, whenever you wish., Buck, you
don’t need permission. This is your house. Sure I can’t come with you? I can
talk to my sire later. Steve stroked Bucky’s hand with worry.
I’m fine. You visit. And with that, Bucky offered another curt nod to both
Peggy and Sharon before he slipped out of the drawing room.
Steve watched his mate go and frowned, looking troubled. He wanted to follow
BUcky, but wanted to give the other man his space, too. Finally, he broke down
in a sigh and asked softly, “Peggy, want to meet my pups?”
“I would love to, Steven,” she smiled.
Nodding, Steve introduced her to Johnny, still holding Summer, as well as the
little girl in the man’s arms. Politely Peggy greeted them before Steve asked,
“would you follow me? I’ll introduce you to Winnie.”
The tall blond spun on his heels and strode quickly from the room, disappearing
to the tombs where he often went if he was troubled and denied Bucky’s
presence. Peggy looked over at Natasha.
Natasha nodded to Peggy, her face neutral but her emerald eyes were laced with
concern. She wrapped her arm around Clint and pressed her other hand to the
Omega’s swollen abdomen, infusing the pups in the womb with energy.
“I see,” Peggy finally said, as if she’d been talking with them and arrived at
an answer. “They are both severely traumatized. The dam’s name is Bucky?”
“That is what he goes by now, yes, he wants to leave as much from his past
life,” Natasha answered.
“He needs a surrogate’s help,” she said softly.
“The only way would be to have Riley, Wanda and Johnny, be his surrogates . .
.” Natasha started.
Shaking her head, Peggy looked at Natasha. “Not for care and feeding, just for
teaching. Steven’s too far gone to recall his own. Both need the abuse teaching
a trained surrogate can provide. I suggest both of them being surrogated by the
same sire and being given the training together as a couple.” She nodded.
“Johnny, meet your sister, Sharon. Steven has yet to be told.”
The Storm vampyre blinked sapphire eyes and looked at the equally blonde
haired, blue eyed vampyre woman. “Sister?”
Sharon held out a hand, “it is a pleasure to meet you, Johnny . . .”
“Storm,” he filled in the clan name. And you Sharon . . .” Johnny shifted
Summer so he could take Sharon’s hand.
“Carter,” Sharon gave her brother a smile and dropped her hand, she peered to
look at Summer, “she is a cute pup, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Clint saved her life before he was reborn and Bucky took her in. This is
Summer Rogers, our sister.” He let the other vampyre look but not touch, not
until Bucky gave permission. He stroked Summer’s red-gold hair.
Knowing the protocols, Sharon nodded and looked back up at Johnny, “just a few
months ago I thought I was an only child . . . now, it turns out I have two
siblings . . . a third on the way.”
“Me, too,” Johnny said and smiled softly.
The voices in the drawing room were finally lost completely as Peggy found her
way into the tomb and stopped short. She backed from the room without alerting
Steve that she had even followed him. Once out of the vaults, the British
vampyre turned and ran up the steps and back to the drawing room. “I thought
Winnie was a deceased pup, but he’s talking to someone down there! Someone he’s
calling Winnie!”
Johnny thrust the pup into Riley’s arms and took off running, followed by
Stephen. Clint whimpered and looked to Natasha.
“I know, my darling,” Natasha soothingly ran her fingers through Clint’s hair
before pressing her lips to his temple. She stood and followed Johnny and
Stephen out.
Riley turned to Sam. “Stay with them. I’ll go to Bucky.” And the blond ran from
the room and up the stairs, carrying Summer close. When he got to the room,
Riley didn’t bother to knock, the danger potential was too great. Instead, he
opened the door and rushed in, shutting it behind him and checking the room
carefully with all his Wilson senses.
“Riley?” Bucky sat up on the bed, looking confused and worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Steve’s sire detected an intruder in the vault.” Riley sank onto the bed and
placed Summer in Bucky’s arm. “Johnny, Natasha, and Stephen went down to see to
it.”
“What?!” Bucky growled, eyes flashing, he handed Summer back and slipped off
the bed, intent on protecting his mate and Winnie.
“Does the vault have an outside entrance, Bucky?” Riley asked, accepting the
pup.
“Yeah, from the gardens,” Bucky answered on a low rumble as he stalked towards
the door.
“Then whoever’s been messing with you both has had access all this time?” Riley
growled low as well. He scrambled from the bed to follow his friend, not
stopping the former hunter. Riley had always supported Bucky in fighting back.
Bucky rushed down the stairs and out the back door, he could see a sliver of
the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, but right now he couldn’t care
about that . . . he needed to protect Steve and Winnie. The Omega ran into the
luscious gardens, that faint smell of marigolds caught Bucky’s attention . . .
there was a vampir!
Riley stayed close to Bucky’s heels, though he still carried Summer; he kept
the pup cuddled protectively against him and stayed back, but watched intently.
“Get Summer back inside! Right now!” Bucky snapped at Riley, his eyes burning
with gold.
“Not if you don’t have help,” Riley snapped back, eyes narrowed further than
normal.
“You are not taking her down there with a vampir, Riley!” Bucky growled.
“Of course I’m not, Bucky, I’m not insane! I’m trying to get Snap so I can send
for Sam!” The falcon finally landed clumsily, her sail feathers healed but
still damaged enough to somewhat cripple her for life. He gave Snap the message
then headed back to the door of the house to watch with his keen vision,
despite the rising sun. He slipped the pup under his shirt, tugging the fine
material from his trousers to give the pup room alongside his pup-bump.
Using the slight distraction, Bucky bolted into the tombs ahead of Riley, his
figure nothing but a blur.
Steve stood, one hand on Winnie’s stone, talking quietly, eyes a dark blue,
deeper than sapphire. His voice was a low murmur and someone from the shadows
replied in a dark rasp that was unintelligible.
Bucky growled menacingly, body crouched in an offensive stance; as he neared
his mate, he said in a low, protective tone, “you stay away from my family!”
His eyes tracked the shadow’s every move.
“Bucky?” Steve’s confused voice sounded far away and dull, his mental bond a
low dull hum of nothing, though it hadn’t been cut off.
Bucky stepped in between Steve and the shadow, “get out of this place you
monster.”
Horror filled Steve’s near-dead voice, “Buck!”
A soft, small, frightened voice sounded from the same shadowy corner. “Mama?”
The Omega blinked, momentarily stunned by the small voice , his eyes darting
around, “no! No! You do not get to disrespect my daughter, she is resting!
Leave!”
Suddenly, the shadow darted out towards the gardens, its form stopping at the
door and wavering before trying to slip back into the thicker shadows of the
vault once more.
Steve blinked and looked confused and lost. He sounded like he might be just
waking up, if he had been asleep, “Bucky?”
Bucky still tried to track the shadow, eyes focusing on the darkest section of
the vault, “I know where you are, vampir . . . leave!”
Who? Steve’s bond suddenly snapped back into full focus, the dullness
dissipating quickly, like a person gasping for air when its throat is suddenly
released. Bucky? What’s . . .why?
The Omega took a threatening step forward, body still coiled, ready for attack.
The rising sun slowly entered the tomb from the opened door. “Don’t like the
sun?” Bucky snarled.
A low whimper, in that same soft scared voice, sounded from the shadows. Steve
stiffened. “Bucky, no . . . she’s scared . . .“
The brunet didn’t reply to Steve, too focused on getting the vampir out of the
vaults, “leave, monster . . . do not come back!” Bucky took another step.
Steve gripped Bucky’s shoulder, pleading, “stop, Bucky, please! You’re scaring
her!”
“Winnie’s dead, Steve! She’s gone! This isn’t her!” Bucky shouted, trying to
wrench his body away from Steve’s grip.
“I know she’s dead, Buck . . .” Steve frowned. “She’s not able to come back.
But you’re scaring whoever the little girl is . . .” Now that he was lucid
again, whatever it was had convinced Steve it was a live child, rather than
pretending to be Winnie since the psychic hold seemed to have broken.
Growling, Bucky used his arm to shove Steve away as hard as he could; he needed
to get the vampir out of Winnie’s resting place. The Omega launched himself
into the shadows, right where he saw the slightest sliver of movement.
He could feel an ice cold figure in his hand as the sounds of several others
ran in the room. A sudden burst of blue energy lit the room bright and the dark
haired vampir, rugged and stockier than Bucky, shorter by an inch or two,
wrenched from the the one armed vampyre. With a sneer, the vampir crawled up
the side of the vault and darted into the building. Johnny and Stephen whirled
around to follow.
Bucky looked around, he found Steve lying on the ground on the other side of
the vault, a cracked dent in the wall behind him. Whimpering, the Omega rushed
over to Steve but was stopped by Natasha’s firm voice, “no, Bucky. Stay there.”
The Alpha knelt down next to Steve and began to infuse him with her powerful
energy. Bucky stood still, eyes wide as he looked at what he’d done . . . he’d
hurt Steve . . .
The sunlight right near the unconscious vampyre seemed to try to grab him with
its deadly rays. Suddenly, a large door slid shut, scraping across the marble
floor of the tomb and sealing the group in deeper darkness, the only exit the
stairs. Steve groaned, opening his blue-gold eyes; the energy puddle of gold
stopped growing below his head.
Natasha gave Steve one last strong push of energy before standing back up; she
didn’t retract her orders on Bucky. She watched Steve begin to regain
consciousness.
Slowly, hand going to the back of his head where his injury knit back together,
Steve sat up, skin paling. “Bucky?”
The Omega whimpered again but still couldn’t move, his hand moved to rest over
his abdomen, feeling Ava kick and move.
“Is Bucky hurt?” Steve turned to look at his mate, beginning to try to get to
his feet to go to the Omega.
“No, but he made a lovely new addition to the vault using your head,” Natasha
answered gesturing to the large dent on the wall with a tilt of her chin.
“Bucky? Where’s the little girl?” Steve ignored his own trauma on behalf of a
pup in distress. He finally regained his feet, swaying slightly at the
continued dizziness from the still healing head trauma.
“I release you, Omega,” Natasha said, her emerald eyes glowing in the dark
vault.
The Omega made no move to get closer to his mate, “th - - there was no little
girl, Steve.”
“But . . . I heard her?” Steve asked, frowning. “I saw her near Winnie’s stone
. . .”
“A vampir . . . a very powerful one at that,” Natasha supplied, looking at the
pup’s head stone, which had been shifted slightly as if something had come and
gone from inside the small vault.
Bucky noticed this and whimpered, he walked over and with a shaky hand
corrected the shifted stone. That monster had been inside Winnie’s vault! The
Omega couldn’t even keep her safe . . . couldn’t let her rest. He collapsed to
his knees and rested his forehead on the smooth stone, his hand running over
the cold surface.
Steve strode to his mate and dropped down next to him, wrapping his arms around
the brunet.
“No!” Bucky scrambled away, tears running down his face as he looked over at
Steve with wide eyes, “don’t! I’ll hurt you again!”
“Of course you won’t,” Peggy’s voice rang out, firm and unyielding, even
without the power of compelling. “You were controlled by the vampir. It used
your great strength to hurt your mate. Come, let us get out of this place of
rest. The vampir has been cornered.” She stood on the bottom step.
Bucky’s body trembled and he looked down at his hand, which still shook . . .
what else could he do with this hand? He could’ve killed Steve!
“Come along, Bucky, Steven. Upstairs, now,” her voice was still firm, as if she
held the power of compelling anyway.
The Omega slowly rose to his feet, although he made sure that he didn’t touch
Steve as he passed by and began to walk up the stairs. Steve followed, feeling
helpless and looking miserable. Peggy followed after nodding to Natasha.
Once up the stairs, Peggy instructed them, “please show me your suite, Bucky,”
though her voice remained firm.
Jaw ticking, Bucky’s eyes fell to the floor as he wordlessly turned to walk up
the second flight of stairs, heading towards the bedroom.
Peggy then Steve trailed after him and once they got to the room, Peggy held a
hand up, preventing Steve entering. She looked at Bucky. “Might I verify the
vampir had no friends stashed in here?”
Bucky nodded and sank on the edge of the bed, looking dejected and agonized.
Peggy headed immediately to the end and checked under and behind the heavy
piece of furniture before scouring the rest of the four room suite, including a
bedroom on the far side of the shared drawing room the pair never used. She
finally came back. “Nicely done, Dam Rogers. You keep this suite very safe.
Might I go through your possessions? I understand you were a victim of Hydra
before you joined us?”
The Omega’s jaw clenched and his hand tightened around a fistful of the
comforter, “knock yourself out. Might have a few stakes stashed away.”
“Peggy,” she filled in as if he hadn’t known her name and struggled to use it.
She started opening drawers and going through his wardrobe. Finally, she pulled
out the picture of Bucky’s family and studied it. Nodding, she slid it back in
the drawer. “A beautiful family you had, Bucky.” She walked back over, carrying
a small decorative pin Bucky had been given when he first joined Hydra, a head
with many tentacles on it. She touched the duvet on the bed, the one Steve had
inadvertently rescued from Bucky’s room during Pietro’s rebirth. “A lovely
duvet.”
“What is the point of this?” Bucky finally snapped, his eyes flashing again, he
looked up at Peggy with a cold glare.
“I can see three items in your possession which might be triggers for you,
Bucky. Which may be used to control you.” She stood in front of him, her eyes
locked on his. Steve made a move to enter the room and Peggy held up a hand,
again denying him entrance.
Bucky snarled, he rose to his feet and looked down at the Alpha, “then let’s
get rid of them, shall we?”
“No,” Peggy answered firmly. “I want to verify your stuff is hurting you before
denying you your keepsakes, Bucky. The photograph, the duvet with the hand
embroidered pattern, and this pin.” She held up the Hydra pin. “Do you feel
attachment to any of these three items I’ve mentioned?”
“Of course I feel attachment to them,” Bucky snapped harshly, “my mother made
me that duvet and that picture is the only one I have of my parents!”
“And this brooch?” She asked.
The Omega’s eyes fell on the pin in Peggy’s hand; he remembered the day he’d
gotten it . . . right after his first kill. He had still been covered in the
vampire’s blood when Pierce grabbed him and stuck it onto his shirt,
whispering, “Hail Hydra,” in his ear. Bucky collapsed to the floor, his head
pressing against the hard floor as he murmured, “Hail Hydra,” over and over
again.
“We found it,” Peggy murmured, turning to the door, where Natasha had silently
come up behind Steve. She nodded. “You should tend him right now. He doesn’t
trust me and I’ll make this trigger worse. Steven, stay out of the room until
he’s calmer. He will attack you in this state.”
Natasha slipped past Steve and into the room, she knelt down next to the Omega,
who’d begun to pull at his hair, still muttering the same phrase repeatedly.
Softly, her hand ghosting over Bucky’s back, Natasha started in a calm,
soothing tone, “it is okay, Bucky. Come back to us, Dam Rogers . . .”
Peggy never moved, not wanting to distract either victim or savior. She merely
slid the pin into her pocket, out of sight, watching intently. Steve hovered in
the doorway, staying quiet, his bond trembling with his love and worry, he
could feel an empty void from Bucky’s end, not necessarily cut off.
After several long minutes, Bucky’s muttering stopped and his skin glistened
with sweat, his fingers were still wrapped in his hair. His chest rose and fell
harshly, his breaths coming out ragged.
Peggy watched, judging Bucky’s reactions for the moment she could let Steve
back near him.
Slowly, Bucky’s fingers loosened and he let out a low, weak keen.
“Go to him, Steven,” Peggy instructed firmly and Steve, as if released from a
wall, shot to his mate's side and cuddled him close. Natasha stepped back,
standing near Peggy.
“Bucky? Baby? My poor, precious Omega,” he crooned, nuzzling Bucky’s face to
his neck to scent the large blond’s Alpha musk.
Bucky’s ragged breaths turned into body wracking sobs as he clutched
desperately to his mate, his body trembling violently. Steve could feel his
pain, helplessness and confusion over the bond.
Kissing Bucky, Steve stroked his mate’s hair very carefully, not wanting to
hurt the already tug-bruised scalp. He continually rocked the brunet, crooning
and complimenting, praising him. At every stroke, every kiss, Steve let a
little burst of careful energy seep into his love. I love you, my precious
Bucky. My brave Omega.
Alpha . . . make them stop . . . make them go away . . . Bucky held onto Steve
tighter, burying his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. Breathing in the
Alpha’s scent, that calming, grounding scent.
Tell me who they are, love, and I’ll help stop them, Steve promised. Are they
people or things?
“I don’t know!” Bucky wailed, beginning to sob once more.
A soft stroking on Bucky’s back joined Steve’s strokes on his hair, but this
hand felt smaller by far. “Yes,” Peggy said very gently, “I’ll be surrogate.”
“What?” Steve looked up, stunned. “I never asked for Bucky to have a surrogate!
Natasha?” He looked over, wondering if he had, after all, been found guilty of
abuse.
“Don’t leave me!” Bucky sobbed against Steve’s neck, his hand clutching tighter
on Steve's shirt in wild desperation, “please! I’ll be good! Please!”
“Bucky, Steven will never leave you,” Peggy soothed. “I’m going to be surrogate
to both of you at the same time.”
Turning his head to look at Peggy with red, tear-washed eyes, Bucky sniffled
and asked softly, “both of us?”
“Yes, dear, both of you,” she cooed softly, gently. “You will feed each other
and tend to each other, but I will be your sire. You will love each other and
hold each other, but I will teach you. Would you like that? Both of you being
taught together to get through this horror?” She offered a gentle smile,
stroking Bucky’s back once more.
Bucky only nodded, turning his face back to nuzzle Steve’s tear-soaked neck.
The Omega mewled and keened softly.
Nodding, giving one last stroke, she said, “good little Omega. You and your
Alpha need to climb into bed and love each other. Sleep and heal. I will return
with the evening to begin your training.” She stood, smoothing her long skirts
out of instinctive habit.
Steve obediently got up and carried his mate to the bed, tugging the duvet down
carefully before sliding them both onto the bed. He began undressing his Omega.
Peggy turned and nodded to Nat. She walked from the room, the redhead right on
her heels, Natasha shut the door behind her with a soft click.
Peggy pulled out the pin and showed it to Natasha. “This was the trigger,” she
said softly. “There aren’t any others in the room that I could tell for Bucky.
There might be some for Steve, but I wasn’t looking for him. I doubt he’d have
gotten something from Alexander in the recent past.”
Taking the pin and examining it closely, Natasha shook her head, “how many
triggers do you think he has?”
“Stephen can tell us for sure how many things were linked to commands or
reactions. Are there other ex-Hydra in this house? If so, they might, too, have
triggers or objects that can trigger.” She began walking from the room.
“Pietro,” Natasha answered, “but he was such a new hunter . . . I highly doubt
they would go through all that on fresh blood.”
“If he had any time with Alexander to be indoctrinated, he may be at risk, as
well.” She looked at Natasha. “He would have been at the beginning of his
abuse, but I won’t doubt Alexander was trying to create a new harem.”
“Could Pietro be a trigger for Bucky?” Natasha asked.
“It’s possible, has Bucky shown any increase in erratic behavior in the boy’s
presence?” Peggy led the way down the steps and back to the drawing room.
“Bucky usually withdrawals around Pietro, he’ll hide behind Steve or leave the
room,” Natasha answered.
Peggy glanced at Natasha, frowning softly. “Like he did upon meeting me? Anyone
else? Does he do that with everyone?”
“No, he’s usually quite friendly, almost motherly,” Natasha sighed and shook
her head, “that or he’s hostile towards anyone who he perceives as a threat.
But so far, you and Pietro are the only two to bring out his timid side.”
“I believe he’s nervous with me because I was Steve’s sire, someone from the
Omega’s mate’s past. That can make him perceive me as a threat to his standing
with his mate.” Peggy walked into the drawing room, noting that only Riley,
with Summer, and Clint sat there. “How well did he know Pietro? I need to know
who converted Pietro and why.”
“Bucky and Pietro were roommates. On Bucky’s first day as a vampyre he snuck
away from Steve to retrieve that picture . . . Pietro surprised him and Bucky
attacked him. Steve had to finish the initial conversion to save Pietro’s
life,” Natasha provided as she sunk down in one of the chairs.
Nodding, Peggy sighed. “And how brutal was Steve in converting either of them?
Hunters don’t often convert willingly at first.”
“I heard Bucky’s was rather brutal. Left arm was torn off by an automatic loom
and Steve had to force himself on Bucky.” Natasha shook her head, pinching the
bridge of her nose.
“So, Bucky was raped brutally by someone the size of Steven?” Peggy nodded.
“And I would assume Pietro was in a similar state? A brutal rape by a very
large Alpha?” She sighed. “I don’t think Pietro was used as a trigger by Hydra.
He’s probably a reminder of not only Bucky’s very painful conversation but
Bucky’s failed assault on his friend. Bucky is ashamed and horrified by what he
did to his friend, and the memories Pietro’s presence bring are probably most
painful. Bucky made his own trigger right there.” The brunet woman sighed. “We
can work with that. Through counseling and communication with each other, Bucky
can get past this . . . and Pietro if he’s going through trauma, too.”
***** Of Sires and Conspiracies *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Bucky rested his head on Steve's firm chest, his hand running absently up and
down the blond’s side. His body still trembled from the trigger attack, but
he'd stopped crying; coming down from such an intense emotional outburst left
his breaths shallow and ragged.
Steve kept his arms wrapped around his mate. The large blond still felt fear
licking at the edges of his emotions. He had been unable to do anything but
watch his beloved Bucky go through such trauma. True, Peggy hadn’t been able to
compel Steve to stay away, but her confidence had been enough, combined with
his memory of the years of following her, to make him obey his former sire. No
. . . not former. She’d said she was their sire, jointly, now. Steve wondered
what had happened to the self-assured leader he’d been just months before, when
he’d converted Bucky.
Gently, the blond dropped a kiss to the brunet’s temple, beard rasping over his
skin and the short hairs there. I love you so much, my beautiful Bucky . . . my
Omega. He told his mate.
I love you, Alpha . . . I was born to love you, even Bucky's mental voice was
soft, meek.
Steve didn’t push it. He merely held his lover close, softly caressing and
kissing him, infusing him with energy with each kiss, each stroke. Slowly, he
let his fingers dance over Bucky’s back, his side, his hips, until he settled a
large palm over the crease of flesh between hipbone and crotch. His fingers lay
still and calm over that near vulnerable place.
The brunet keened and arched slightly into the touch; his fingers tightened to
grip the Alpha’s side as his head turned to place kisses on Steve’s chest.
Softly, Steve said, “I love you, Bucky . . .” He knew his fear radiated over
their bond, but he hoped his intense love did as well. He stroked at his mate’s
hair with his free hand, keeping his other on Bucky’s pelvis, gently infusing
him with energy.
“Love you, too, Stevie,” Bucky assured; his voice was shaky and his own fear
and loved echoed Steve’s . . . as well as a tinge of helplessness.
“Peggy will guide us well, Buck. She was my surrogate when I was rescued from
Pierce,” he tried to soothe, caressing gently, slowly down Bucky’s hair,
carding his fingers in the dark curls.
“I hurt you . . .” Bucky whimpered and nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, “I
didn’t mean to, I swear . . .”
“I know, Buck,” Steve slipped his hand over to lift Bucky’s chin, offering a
small smile. “That’s something we’re gonna work on. We keep hurting each other.
Somehow, I’ve lost decades of control and haven’t been able to teach it to you.
Peggy will help us learn that control.”
The Omega sighed and nodded, eyes falling, and he looked uncertain. “I just
want them out, Steve . . . what if I hurt you again? Or Summer . . . or Ava . .
.” Bucky’s hand moved to touch his swollen abdomen.
“I’m not worried about you hurting the pups, you never have, Bucky. Whatever’s
happening, I think it’s geared at me and you, not the pups.” Steve kissed
Bucky’s lips softly but it became more intense as he poured his love into the
contact. Someone set us up years ago to hurt each other, Bucky, but it didn’t
consider that we’re true mates. We’ll get through this because we’re meant to
be together through the end of time’s long line.
Bucky whimpered into the kiss, his hand lifted to cup Steve’s cheek, thumb
caressing the rough whiskers of the Alpha’s beard. The brunet’s tongue traced
the seam of the blond’s lips.
Deepening the kiss, Steve finally moved his other hand, cupping his Omega’s
crotch, his strong fingers caressing over the heavy sac and member. Nothing
came over the bond insisting on sex; Steve was caressing as a means of comfort
not demand.
A shiver ran down Bucky’s spine and his hips canted to press into Steve’s palm,
“love you, Alpha . . .” the Omega breathed against his mate’s lips.
Steve continued to caress and kiss his mate, letting energy flow through both
hands as he drew strength from knowing his Omega was there, in his arms
willingly. He smiled into Bucky’s mouth. My Omega . . . no one else’s . . . my
beautiful Bucky, Steve said firmly over their link. He let his pride and desire
flow to his mate, still not pushing for anything more than what they were
experiencing.
All your’s . . . I belong with you, we are meant for each other, Bucky
responded, a content, happy scent wafted from the Omega in waves. He belonged
in Steve’s arms, nothing in the entire world felt as good as being with his
mate.
Steve broke off the intense kiss to move to Bucky’s mate mark, kissing just as
fiercely there, helping the endorphins to release without actually breaking
skin with a bite. He moved his free hand down to stroke Bucky’s chest then
abdomen, over the pup bump, his strong calloused fingers full of love. I belong
to you, my Bucky. I am your Alpha.
Bucky groaned, extending his neck to give Steve better access to the mate mark,
mine . . . my Alpha . . . my Stevie.
Always your’s, Steve confirmed as he licked and kissed the silvery scar,
letting energy infuse the pup-bump to feed Ava, too. Dam of my pups, he kissed
again.
I’ll be a good dam, Steve . . . I’ll be a good mate, I promise . . . Bucky’s
eyes closed and he keened, the feeling of Steve’s lips on the mate mark made
the Omega’s veins begin to burn.
I believe you, because you already are, Steve changed his kiss to a little
higher on Bucky’s neck, right behind and under the brunet’s ear.
Bucky moaned and his arm wrapped around Steve’s neck, make love to me, Steve .
. . please?
As if he’d been waiting for Bucky to ask, Steve reached down between them and
caressed his strong fingers over his mate’s passage, checking that Bucky was
ready for him. Anytime you want, my love.
The Omega’s slick coated the entrance, and Bucky moaned again as Steve’s
fingers traced over the opening.
With a soft croon of approval, Steve gripped himself and lined up, his large
cockhead pressing firmly at Bucky’s ring of muscle. He slowly slid into his
mate, feeling every muscle, every flutter as he did so. My beautiful Bucky, so
hot, so tight for me . . . so perfect.
Legs wrapping around Steve’s narrow waist, Bucky canted his hips to meet the
Alpha’s thrust.
Steve slowly pulled back out, until only his massive tip remained inside then
plunged slowly back into his mate’s moist heat, sliding over Bucky’s prostate.
Continually, Steve slid in and out, slow and sure, until finally he bottomed
out and kissed Bucky intensely.
Bucky deepened the kiss, his arm wrapped tightly around Steve’s neck and his
legs coiled to push the Alpha just a little deeper. The Omega’s tongue explored
the Alpha’s mouth, savoring the taste of his lover.
Bucky, Steve mind-murmured, let me know what you want, baby. Wanna make you
happy. The Alpha continued his long, deep thrusts at his steady pace, the one
Bucky had long come to know as Steve’s ‘feeding’ pace, the one he used when
trying to determine what Bucky needed or wanted. He moved a hand down to caress
between them over his lover’s member, stroking along the entire length in
imitation of his leisurely strokes.
The Omega’s breath hitched and his hips bucked, surprise me, Stevie . . . do
want you wanna . . . love me, Alpha . . .
Steve’s hips stuttered at that and his turned wide sapphire eyes on his lover.
He did obey, taking charge of their loving by instantly picking up their pace,
dragging over Bucky’s prostate with every other hard thrust. Tell me if it’s
not right, baby.
Panting, small little pleased gasps escaped the Omega’s lips, Bucky met every
thrust, his hips canting and falling to match his Alpha’s rhythm.
Steve moaned low in response and moved his mouth to lightly nip over the mate
mark on Bucky’s damaged shoulder, beard brushing harder than normal, rasping a
line of red brush burn across the flesh. Steve gripped Bucky’s hip with one
hand, the other still stroking his lover’s member, tugging and twisting,
dipping down to capture leaking slick only to bring it back up to sooth the
friction. You’re beautiful, baby doll. Love the way you feel . . . we’re meant
to be together, my Omega.
My Alpha . . . feels so good . . . Steve’s strong hand around his pulsing
member, in perfect rhythm with the thrusting, had Bucky already nearing
release. Gonna . . . Stevie . . .
Go ahead, Steve granted permission, feeling his knot swell in answer to his
mate's pending release. He groaned in Bucky’s neck as he thrust deeper then
rocked, not pulling out since it would rip his mate, but coming close,
stretching the entrance almost painfully with each cant. Life-seed shot deep
into the Omega’s body, the Alpha once more claiming him in the most primal of
ways.
With a breathless gasp, the Omega’s back arched and he came hard in Steve’s
hand, his legs trembling as they wrapped tighter around the Alpha’s waist.
My beautiful, dutiful Omega, Steve praised on a mental keen of pleasure and
pride. So good to me, so loving and hungry for me. The large blond buried his
face in his mate’s sweaty neck, still rocking, still releasing energy and life-
seed.
Always, Alpha . . . always gonna love you . . . always gonna need you, Bucky
panted and looked up at Steve with half-lidded eyes, a loving smile gracing
those plush, red lips.
Without removing himself, as they were still knotted heavily together, Steve
wrapped his arms around Bucky and turned them so they were facing each other on
their sides. He kissed the brunet’s lips and breathed “Let’s sleep, Buck?”
Nodding, Bucky tucked his head under Steve’s chin and pressed the entire length
of his body close to the blond’s. The Omega let his eyes close, and his
breathing evened out within moments, signaling that he’d fallen asleep.
Steve tumbled into sleep soon after, still knotted, still holding his love
close. As the pair slept, the knot finally released and Steve slipped free, but
neither love awoke.
It wasn’t until a firm knock sounded on the door almost nine hours later that
Steve even came back to awareness.
The Omega groaned and pressed closer to Steve, “five more minutes . . .”
With a chuckle, Steve reached up and stroked his mate's hair fondly, knowing
they’d need to get cleaned up before doing anything else. “Who is it?” he
called.
“Peggy,” the clipped British tones rang out firmly.
Bucky simply cuddled closer to Steve, enjoying the warmth that the large body
provided, his eyes still closed.
“Uh . . .” Steve looked down at his armful of loving Bucky then glanced at the
door. “We’re not ready for company?”
The door opened and Peggy walked in, heading for the washing room without even
bothering to look at the pair on the large bed. “Then it’s good I am not
company.”
The Omega curled up around his mate, head nuzzling against the pillow.
After a moment, Peggy came in and pressed warm wet cloths into Steve’s hand so
the pair could get cleaned up. She wasn’t stupid enough to try to touch a mated
Omega, especially after sex. Turning towards the curtains, Peggy pulled them
back, revealing a clear, star studded night. She opened the balcony window,
letting in air, the first the pair had been permitted really since this entire
mess with the vampir had started.
“Five more minutes . . .” Bucky grumbled, voice muffled by the soft pillow his
face currently pressed into.
Amusement laced over Peggy’s face as she glanced at the tall brunet, but she
remained silent, actually allowing him his request. Steve, gently, began
washing his mate. His movements were slow and tender, allowing Bucky to rest if
he could, and finally, Steve began to clean himself up with a little less slow
tenderness, wanting to be clean. In all, ten minutes passed before Steve had
finished. Peggy said nothing, still, standing on the balcony, waiting.
Bucky’s face was still pressed into the pillow, his arm loosely draped over
Steve’s waist. The Omega made no moves to get up.
Turning back to the men in the room, still looking amused, Peggy asked, “You’ve
had ten minutes now. Do you plan to get up?”
The only answer Peggy got was Bucky shaking his head, though his sweet, playful
scent began to fill the room.
A soft chuckle escaped the female Alpha. “Oh, you wish to play? Very well.” The
smaller brunet headed back into the washroom, Steve watching almost warily.
He recalled that his sire didn’t often play if she had something important to
teach. The blond figured the first day, Peggy would have much to teach. Leaning
over to whisper in his mate’s ear, Steve warned, “she’s probably going to dump
water on you, Bucky. Peggy doesn’t play.”
Peggy strode back in, with a cup of water, and walked directly over to the pair
in the bed. But she didn’t pour the warm water over Bucky. Rather, she scooped
up his hand and eased it gently into the cup. She seemed to be mentally
counting.
After a while Bucky began to squirm and then he shot out of the bed; he didn’t
seem to care about his nudity, hurrying to the conjoined bathroom.
When the Omega was done relieving his bladder, Peggy offered him an amused
smile, keeping her eyes politely on his face. “Still wish to play?”
Steve flushed bright red.
Grabbing one of his robes that hung near the bathroom wall, Bucky flashed Peggy
a sweet smile, though his pale eyes held a glint of mischief, “that depends,
Sire . . . what games do you like to play?”
Laughing outright, Peggy nodded. “Oh, I can tell you are good for our over-
serious Steven. This will be amusing. First, would you like to tell me if you
wish to tend your pup while my immature?”
“Johnny’s been helping out with Summer while I still have the triggers in my
head . . . I don’t want to accidentally hurt her,” Bucky answered, wrapping
himself in the silk robe and tying it closed.
“Very wise, Omega,” she praised. “Would you like to see her daily at least or
give over her adoption to Johnny?” Peggy reached over for a slightly larger
robe and tossed it at the silently watching Steve, who flushed brighter and
slid into the covering.
Bucky blinked, seeming slightly surprised by the question, would Summer be
happier . . . healthier if Johnny took over?
As if seeing the questions in his eyes, Peggy said, “you are permitted to speak
your mind, Bucky, wasn’t it? I value your input in your family’s health.”
“Would Summer be happier with Johnny? Healthier?” Bucky asked, his eyes were
serious, not desperate or frazzled as one might expect of him when discussing
the possibility of giving Summer to Johnny.
“In my opinion? She has bonded with you both, but would miss the one that was
removed. And this state will not last permanently. Once you whelp, Stephen
Maximoff plans to help break the trigger connections, so giving up adoption may
be a bit drastic. This is entirely your decision, Bucky. You are the dam.”
Peggy took up a brush and offered it to him. “Would you like your hair
brushed?”
Bucky cocked his head, looking at the brunet Alpha with curious eyes; he took
the brush from her and nodded, “I don’t want to give up Summer . . . but maybe
until I whelp Ava and get the triggers removed, we should keep her with
Johnny.”
Nodding, she made a signal towards the brush then towards Steve. “Very good.
I’ll inform them that you’ll visit regularly until you are better.” She watched
Bucky’s reactions, not once paying much attention to her former youth, as if
Steve were secondary in this relationship.
The Omega looked down at the brush and then at Steve, he walked towards the bed
and handed it over to his Alpha.
Steve accepted the brush with a smile and kissed Bucky softly on the lips. “Sit
down, Buck, and I can brush your hair?” Apparently the large blond Alpha was
allowing this small brunet Alpha to take charge.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Bucky presented his back to Steve as he
looked at Peggy.
“Feel free to ask whatever you wish, unless we are in a dangerous situation. At
those times, you may wish to only ask something pertinent, please,” Peggy
smiled and pulled over a chair. “First, let me tell you that the brooch was a
trigger so we have removed it. Please give it no further mind. It is gone and
has no power over you.”
Steve began to brush his lover’s hair with gentle yet sure strokes through the
soft dark curls, almost as if petting Bucky.
Bucky nodded, “but I can still be triggered? I can still be a danger to Steve?”
“Until the rest of the triggers are removed, yes, Bucky. And until we can find
and remove Steven’s triggers, he will be a danger to you as well.” Peggy seemed
rather unconcerned about this pressing danger. “That is why I’m here. I’m to
guide both of you in your growth and relationship. I am to watch and learn your
triggers and help remove them. Some triggers are not mental.” The woman reached
over and lay a gentle hand on Bucky’s right shoulder. “We will get through this
and you will be safe for one another once more. I promise you this, Dam
Rogers.”
Bucky whimpered and nodded, his arm wrapping around his pup-bump.
“Would you rather I lie to you, Bucky?” Peggy asked gently. “I can if you
prefer.”
“No, don’t lie to me . . . I - - it’s just . . .” Bucky swallowed.
“Hard to hear that you might hurt someone you love so much?” Peggy supplied.
She nodded. “I thought you might have had enough of lies and manipulation to
last a very long lifetime. I intend to work honestly and as openly as possible
with the pair of you.”
“Well . . . yes and I’m scared . . . what else have I done that I don’t
remember? What else did Hydra make me do? How can I move on from all of it if I
don’t know,” Bucky’s eyes met Peggy’s.
Squeezing the clothed shoulder firmly, Peggy nodded. “We will discover the
hidden memories, Bucky. But, please, have patience. This took years to do to
you and may take as long to undo carefully, safely. Our goal is to have you
safe and sound. Does this make sense?” Her blue eyes held warmth,
encouragement. It was very obvious why such an Alpha had been made the
surrogate of a drastically abused immature like Steve. “Can you tell me, Bucky,
if you had direct contact with any vampyres in Hydra?”
“You mean like while hunting? Of course . . .” Bucky looked confused, his head
tilted slightly.
“I mean while training,” Peggy corrected.
“I . . . I don’t know?” Bucky muttered, brows furrowed and the Omega looked
like he was trying to recall all his training throughout the years.
Peggy patted his arm. “Don’t bother to worry about it, please, Bucky. That
answer will come in time. The harder you push, the more exhausted you will
become.”
“Why can’t I remember? My muscles and mind know the exercises . . . but the
actual training is getting fuzzy . . .” Bucky’s eyes raised and looked at the
brunet Alpha.
“Well, I suppose it is because you had direct contact with at least a Maximoff
rogue and he wiped your memories. Those are retrievable, just buried deep. That
would be how you were given triggers without knowing it.” She removed her hand
at last. “Steve was treated the same way while in Alexander Pierce’s grip.” The
woman sounded as if she might suspect who this rogue was.
“You mean this Kaecillius guy?” Bucky asked.
“That is our current theory,” Peggy nodded. “He is an older vampyre and quite
capable of the triggering mental surgeries. It took some time to help Steven
over his initial mental problems. I suspect he may have new ones created since,
just as you do.” Peggy glanced finally over at her former youth and smiled. She
looked back at Bucky. “So, shall I catch you both up on the years between
Steven’s graduation and now? I know a bit about Steven’s past that has been
hidden, but we feel he should be allowed to know.” Again, she treated Bucky as
if he was the one to be making the decisions, not Steve.
“You mean . . . about you and him?” Bucky’s eyes flickered with nervousness.
She nodded, “as well as before he was rescued. The circle was to have informed
him of some things and keep others from him. It appears they did things in
reverse. For one, I recommended he never be allowed a newborn or mate due to
his severe abuse. I felt it might re-trigger his history and cause him to
backslide.” She had been right, it seemed.
Steve could feel the guilt and sadness radiating from Bucky through the bond.
The blond stopped brushing his mate’s beautiful curls and wrapped his arms
around Bucky tightly from behind. “No, Bucky, it’s not your fault. I love you!”
Peggy shook her head. “He’s right, Bucky. This isn’t your fault, and may
actually be the very thing to break his old trauma and help him grow beyond
what I first thought capable. The circle should have been monitoring. Rather,
they allowed him to be a target, basically pushing him into the situation.”
Steve kissed Bucky’s neck. “We’ll both get better, Bucky. And we’ll have each
other forever.”
“Why did they allow him to have a mate if you recommended against it?” Bucky
asked.
Nodding, Peggy smiled for the very intelligent, direct question. “I don’t know
yet, but I certainly intend to suss it out. Natasha will be working on that
while I help you both through the roadblocks to your peaceful happiness. What
the council did wrong, I intend to fix . . . and not by separating you or any
of your other fears. I am rather glad they failed, or you may not have found
one another . . . and true mates should never be denied.”
Bucky nodded and tried not to think about the events of how Steve and he had
gotten together . . . the Omega wished their relationship hadn’t started with
such horror.
“When Steven was being tortured by the vampyre that had converted him, he wound
up with pup three different times. He will only recall the first one.” Peggy
turned her eyes to study Steve’s reaction.
The large blond looked shocked. “I . . . I did?”
With a nod, Peggy gently said, “the first was taken from you at whelping. I
would assume that is Johnny. But the other two were taken as pre-pups and
killed, deliberately.”
Horror crossed Steve’s face and he convulsively hugged Bucky to him, whimpering
slightly.
Bucky’s eyes widened and his face paled as he fell back against Steve’s chest
in a slump, “they killed . . .”
“Yes,” Peggy sighed, reaching out to touch Steve’s leg in a silent form of
comfort for the other Alpha. “We have traced those crimes to Johann Rogers at
the behest of Alexander Pierce, then Rogers. Alexander often let his circle of
cruel friends abuse his fledgeling.” She drew a breath. “It is still unknown
just who may have sired those two pups.”
Steve buried his face in Bucky’s shoulder, his body trembling as he heard about
abuse he barely recalled, events he didn’t remember. He knew Pierce had been an
abusive sire, had allowed others to join in, but Steve couldn’t remember ever
lying with anyone else until Peggy had come along. Like Bucky, the blond
wondered just what he had forgotten or buried too deep to recall . . . just
what horrors were there in his past that might affect his future with Bucky and
their pups . . . and was his own troubles bearing pups a reason that Bucky had
trouble with Winnie?
The Omega felt like he was going to be sick . . . Pierce had let other Alphas
abuse Steve? Had forcibly removed Steve’s pup . . . intent on killing the
innocent creations. His stomach churned and the only thing he could do was try
to infuse his mate with his comforting energy.
Peggy waited a moment and said, “so you may have some understanding as to why I
was not to tell Steven that he had actually sired a pup right before graduating
to mature. The circle thought he might backslide if he knew.” She reached out
and lay her other hand over Bucky’s leg so she was touching both men. “But you
did, Steven, sire another pup. Your first as a sire. And she is downstairs. She
is learning to be a safehouse Alpha.”
A quick flash of fear ran through Bucky’s entire body, his spine straightened
and he looked at Peggy incredulously, “Sharon . . . is Steve’s?”
Nodding, Peggy offered a smile.
Steve kept his face buried in Bucky’s shoulder. He seemed to have little
interest, according to their bond, of meeting the woman he’d sired so long ago.
Rather, he whispered, But I have Bucky’s pups. I don’t need anyone else. He was
pulling away mentally from the idea of anyone else but his mate. Unlike Johnny,
Steve didn’t seem inclined to welcome Sharon into his family.
Bucky blinked as he processed the new information, and the bizarre emotions
Steve was displaying over their bond. It was very unlike the blond to not want
to include someone into his family . . . let alone a pup he actually sired.
“Ah,” Peggy said softly, still intently watching Steve. “I was correct. The
idea has triggered him. Bucky, he needs reassuring.”
Steve? It’s okay, Steve . . . I know that you siring Sharon doesn’t make you
love Winnie, Summer, or Ava any less. I love you . . . Winnie loves you, as
does Summer, and I already see Ava being a daddy’s little girl. Bucky leaned
back into the Steve’s chest, releasing his comforting, sugary scent.
“I didn’t know,” Steve murmured out loud, adding silently I love you, Bucky.
Peggy is an old friend. I love you!
I know, Stevie, I know you love me. Bucky turned his head to place a kiss on
Steve’s neck, right where a mate mark would go.
He killed them? I don’t . . . Bucky, I didn’t know . . . Steve suddenly sobbed,
curling around Bucky.
Bucky whimpered at the sudden influx of intense emotion that bled through their
bond. The Omega didn’t know how to help Steve.
Peggy withdrew her hands from the pair. “Bucky, would you like to love Steven?
Show him that you don’t care about his past?”
The lean brunet looked over at Peggy and then back at Steve before nodding.
“I’ll leave you for an hour then return. Please make sure to share your energy
with each other. You both need this time to realize that the past isn’t what
you love about each other.” The woman stood and smoothed her long skirts then
let herself from the room, quietly shutting the door but leaving the window to
the balcony open.
Bucky turned around to straddle the large blond, his bare ass resting against
Steve’s crotch, “I love you, Steve . . . I don’t care about Peggy or . . . or
what happened three hundred years ago. I care about what is happening right now
. . . right in this moment. I care about you and our pups. I care about our
family. I love you, Stevie . . . I love the strong, amazing, beautiful Alpha
that you are now. You saved me, Steve . . . you saved me when I didn’t even
realize that I needed saving . . . and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“I hurt you when I did it,” Steve drew his mate closer though, needing the love
and warmth Bucky offered. He fumbled his robe open so he could feel the slide
of his lover’s body over his own.
“Yes,” Bucky nodded, “but had you not done it . . . I would’ve died. I wouldn’t
have been able to have this life with you. With our pups. You are my life now,
Steve Rogers.”
Lifting his head, searching Bucky’s eyes, Steve’s blue ringed in golden fire,
the large blond asked, “you . . . you forgive me for raping you?” He often felt
Bucky’s pain over their link at the memory of the conversion, and it always
fired intense guilt in the larger vampyre.
“Yes, I forgive you, Steve . . . that doesn’t mean that I will completely
forget about it, but I forgive you and if I could go back . . . I still
wouldn’t change it. I’d go through it all over again so that we could be
together,” Bucky answered as he slipped out of his robe and pressed his chest
flush against Steve’s.
“I knew it would hurt, but I knew if you converted, you’d heal,” Steve
explained softly, burying his face in his mate’s neck and inhaling the scent of
Bucky. “I hoped you could forgive me, even if maybe you left as soon as you
were mature and never came near me again. But I had to save you. You were dying
so quickly. I had to save you!”
“I know,” Bucky assured, he shifted so that Steve’s member rested against his
entrance, slick already beginning to prep his passage. “I know, my sweet,
loving Alpha. You saved me in more ways than one.”
“I never wanted to lose Winnie,” Steve said out of the blue it seemed. “I never
wanted to lose a single pup . . . they made me . . .” and a sudden rush of
painful, fearful memory washed over Steve as he actually recalled both
incidents Peggy had mentioned. “I never wanted you to go through that . . .” He
hugged Bucky to him hard once more.
A sudden, intense cramping contracted his abdomen; Bucky’s eyes widened and he
doubled over in Steve’s arms, “no . . . no! It’s too early!” A wave of
cramping, so terrifyingly familiar rushed through him and he screamed, an
agonized sound that echoed through the halls of the mansion.
Fear shot through Steve and he scrambled up from the bed, laying Bucky down.
Calling out, “Help! Please, someone!”
Up on the widow’s walk, Clint heard the call and shot inside, down the spiral
steps, and to his Alpha, his excess energy lending him speed. “Steve’s
terrified!” he reported.
Natasha sped down the hall and opened the door without a word, she saw the
Omega writhing on the bed, and Steve standing by the edge. “Peggy!”
The surrogate rushed over from her own room down the hall. “What happened?” The
small burnet ran inside and over to Bucky’s side.
“Ava!” Bucky wailed and looked at Peggy desperately, “she’s too early!”
Reaching over to stroke Bucky’s curls from his forehead, Peggy leaned over and
kissed his temple, whispering, “do not fear, brave Omega. Ava will be well.
Believe in me.” She stood and called, firmly, “get Wanda to help with the pain.
And get me whelping supplies so I can deliver the pup.” She knew that, unlike
humans, a vampyre could not reverse a whelping once begun. This pup intended to
be born now. Peggy hoped it was perhaps further along than the dam realized.
“No!” Bucky screamed, true terror and pain lacing his pale eyes, “no! It’s too
early! Please! Steve . . . don’t let them kill Ava!”
Steve slid onto the bed behind Bucky, shifting his mate’s head to his large
lap, uncaring that his robe remained open. Steve stroked Bucky’s hair. “They
can’t stop the whelping, Bucky,” he said, voice shaking. “If they don’t take
her now, you’ll die, too.” Once again he faced losing both mate and pup. Steve
swore he’d never hurt Bucky again, if the gods above would spare his family.
Bucky tried to sit up but another contraction made him sob and clutch at the
sheets, “no! Please . . . please don’t kill her . . .”
“Stay still, do not fight me,” Peggy said soothingly, for all that she was
compelling her immature. “I will save her if I may, but we can do little if you
struggle against us. The calmer you are, the easier it is to help you both.
Someone bring in the vampyre you thought might be able to surrogate Bucky in
place of Steve. Get that vampyre in here for feeding Ava as soon as she is
whelped.”
Natasha turned and ran out of the room, returning less than a few minutes later
with Riley, Wanda and the whelping knife. Bucky, once seeing the knife, shook
his head wildly, more tears running down his cheeks, though his body couldn’t
move. “No! It’s too early! Steve! It’s too early! Don’t do this . . . please!”
The Omega looked up at Steve, eyes pleading and terrified.
Steve curled his body in a near impossible curve so that he could remain
sitting behind his mate yet still capture Bucky’s mouth with his own. He
infused energy through the kiss, clasping Bucky’s face to keep them locked in
the kiss. I love you . . .
Natasha handed Peggy the whelping knife as Wanda approached the side of the
bed, “would you like me to put him to sleep?”
“Not sleep,” Peggy said. “He will need to remember this, please. But sooth him,
check the pup continually for me.” And the woman began to prepare water and
cloths, finally turning to Bucky’s swollen abdomen.
Nodding Wanda’s eyes flashed and her hands sparkled red, she hovered over the
pup-bump, “she is still alive. But we need to remove her quickly.”
Riley sank carefully onto the bed next to Bucky and kept a careful eye on
everything, ready to grab the whelp as soon as the cut was made so he could
begin feeding the infant even before she was disconnected from her dam. The
idea was to give her a large influx of energy, hopefully to aid her lungs to
develop further if they hadn’t already.
Peggy nodded to Wanda. “When you are connected, Wanda,” she instructed.
The Maximoff moved to place a hand on Bucky’s temple, who’d begun to cry and
whimper into Steve’s mouth; after a small burst of red sparks, Wanda nodded to
Peggy. “I cannot numb all the pain while keeping him conscious.”
Peggy sliced true and steady, making Bucky cry out from the slight pain he felt
as the Alpha cut into his flesh, freeing Bucky’s pup from the womb and into
Riley’s waiting hands, the blond removing pup and placenta in one movement. As
soon as Riley held the pup, infusing her tiny body with wave after wave of
maroon energy, Peggy began healing the belly wound, her own silver energy
bright in the room. Once the whelp wound had healed completely, Steve released
Bucky’s mouth, tears streaming down his own face.
Riley looked over to Bucky and Steve and jostled the pup to make her cry out.
“Ava?” Bucky murmured, his skin pale and shining with sweat. The Omega’s eyes
were dull and half-lidded as he tried to look over at Riley and the tiny pup.
With that soft, rare smile, Riley leaned over and said, “hold out your arm, Dam
Rogers, so you may hold your pup.”
Bucky lifted a shaky arm and tried to sit up.
“I release you from your orders, Bucky,” Peggy said in a tired, satisfied
voice.
Steve aided Bucky to sit but didn’t stop there. He shifted his mate to lower
him on his large erection, feeding him steadily, slowly.
Riley slipped the pup in her dam’s arm, keeping his hands over heart and belly
so he might still feed the pup the major infusion of maroon energy he had to
offer. “Ava may have been further along that you suspected, Bucky. She’s
beautiful. Come feed her.”
Bucky brought the pup closer to his chest, tears falling down his cheeks; he
infused Ava with the small amount of energy he had left, “beautiful . . . she’s
our pup, Steve . . .”
“You did so good, my beautiful, clever Omega,” Steve breathed, kissing Bucky’s
temple. He carefully moved his large hand to cover his daughter, Riley pulling
his own hands away. Golden energy surged from Steve’s hand to feed the tiny pup
while he continued his slow feeding of his mate. “Our pup is the most beautiful
pup in this world.”
Peggy smiled and nodded. “I think the family can be left on their own for the
rest of the day. Tomorrow is soon enough for the pup to meet her three
siblings. Thank you, Wanda, if you will do one more thing for us?” Looking at
Bucky, Peggy said, “put a fertility inhibitor on the dam so he cannot get
pregnant for at least a year.”
Bucky looked over at Peggy and then to Wanda; he gave the Maximoff a single
nod. Wanda’s eyes flashed and red energy danced over the skin of the Omega’s
healed abdomen. After a few moments, Wanda stood back up, “it is done. You will
not be able to conceive for one year. You can tell me if you need more time
when that year is up.”
Steve certainly didn’t protest the precaution, recalling vaguely having such
limits placed on him in the early years with Peggy. She was a very big
proponent of youths being prevented pregnancy until they were at least a few
years old.
Peggy smiled. “Let’s leave the family to bond. I feel it is safe to say that
Ava is thriving if I can judge that defiant look in her eyes. She reminds me of
her dam already.” The woman nodded to Nat and Wanda, Riley leaning in to kiss
Bucky’s cheek before standing and slipping out. Peggy was the last to leave the
room, smiling back at the trio. “The balcony will continued to be watched, so
relax and commune, please,” she advised, not compelling them in the least this
time. Peggy shut the bedroom door.
Immediately she turned to Nat, Wanda, and Riley with a severe frown. Very
quietly, signaling them to join her as she strode down the hall, she asked,
“how far along was he?”
“We thought three months,” Natasha offered, “but Ava looks to be much further
along.”
Riley sighed. “Bucky was grieving so hard, he might not realize when he
conceived. She could be further along, actually.”
“Wanda? You connected with the pup, what do you think?” Peggy asked.
“It was odd,” Wanda frowned, shaking her head, “the pup was only three months .
. . but she was as far along as a four month pre-pup. Almost like she sped
through development.”
Riley met their eyes. “Bucky has been almost starving because Ava has been
taking practically all the energy. Steve found another way to feed Bucky and
Ava separately, but that still didn’t stop Ava from eating like she was feeding
for two. Is it possible the excess energy helped her develop quicker? It’s been
known to develop newborns quicker if they get a great influx.”
“And Bucky, himself, sped through his newborn stage. He became a fledgling in
only a week,” Natasha supplied.
“What?” Peggy’s eyes opened wide. Suddenly, she whirled and asked, “has Bucky
shown signs of becoming a mature Omega? Their pups are known to deliver in less
time.”
At that question, Riley paled and slid his hand over his own pup-bump, real
fear lacing his normally calm demeanor.
Natasha shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I thought the same
thing, Bucky has shown all the signs of becoming a mature Omega. I fear that
Clint may be one as well, he is pregnant with twins, although his newborn stage
was a little longer than most.”
“Twins?” Peggy frowned. While Natasha had been a safehouse leader, Peggy had
been well trained to interact with not only abused victims but victims with odd
presentations. She sighed. “Clint needs to be watched then. If he’ll be a
mature omega and he’s got twins, he’ll in all probability deliver early, as
well. Many mature Omegas do.” Peggy looked around at the group. “Are Steven and
Bucky the only true mate pair here?”
Riley shook his head, his voice falling soft, as it often did when discussing
his personal business. “I hear Sam in my thoughts.”
“Wait . . .” Natasha looked at Riley incredulously, “you and Sam? True mates?”
Sighing, Riley looked directly at the redhead. “I have long suspected as much,
from the moment we mated I could feel him inside me.”
Peggy nodded. “It’s also more of a trait among mature Omegas than any others to
become true mates.” She looked at Natasha. “Have you felt such a bond with your
fledgling?”
Natasha looked at Peggy, her emerald eyes searching the other Alpha’s face, “we
have not mated . . . but - -” she cut herself off with a shake of her head.
“After a mating, if it happens, you will know,” Peggy said softly. “In fact,
you will be compelled beyond your control to mate with him if you’re meant to
be together.” She turned into her room, signaling the others to follow. “Riley,
correct? You are an Omega? Even the council never knew.”
“I would prefer they don’t, despite the pregnancy. It is none of their business
what I am. It doesn’t affect my beliefs or behaviors.” Riley frowned, hovering
by the door, though he did not block Wanda or Natasha going inside.
Natasha and Wanda stepped past Riley into the room, they both turned to watch
the exchange.
With a nod, Peggy accepted Riley’s soft rebuke concerning his privacy. She
turned to the two women. “The elders have long talked of a time of change
coming. A prophecy, to use simple words, when the energies would align just
right and all of the vampyre world will shift. One of the signs of this energy
shift is an increase of mature Omegas.”
“And why would the council be concerned about an increase in mature Omegas?”
Wanda asked.
“Because mature Omegas are more fierce fighters than any other designation or
nature, Wanda. The more mature Omegas, the less the council can cow them. An
army could, in theory, form. Those the Omegas align with have a great force of
power at their fingertips.” Peggy shrugged. “It’s why the council tries to keep
strict record of all mature Omegas and their pups or newborns.”
Riley softly said, “many of the mature Omegas in the past have been put into
containment for crimes or insanity.”
“Will they try to lock up Bucky if they find out?” Wanda questioned.
“Yes,” Riley met her eyes. “They have more than enough to press charges of
instability on him and on Steve.”
“But it’s the triggers that are causing him to act erratically,” Wanda said,
shaking her head.
Dropping her voice to a bare whisper, Peggy put forth a personal theory to
these allies of Steve’s. “Is it possible the council is behind the triggers?”
“On Bucky? That wouldn’t make sense . . . Bucky was with Hydra his whole life,”
Natasha piped in, her face pinched in thought.
“Hydra makes vampir. Vampir can never outgrow being compelled by their sires.
Thus, those in Hydra creating vampir have a force of very controlled killers,”
Peggy began, looking around.
“And,” Riley sighed in a disapproving whisper, frowning fiercely, “if they are
not above experimenting with anything they can get their hands on,
experimenting to make humans permanently controlled isn’t beyond their
capacity.”
“But Stephen said he could removed Bucky’s triggers . . . that they weren’t
permanent,” Wanda looked to Riley in confusion and concern.
“Which means that Hydra hasn’t perfected it,” the blond nodded. “They may want
him back, or any of his pups, to keep working with. Bucky’s their most
controlled hunter. It must have been a painful loss when Steve turned him.”
“What’d they expect was going to happen? Sending Bucky after Steve? They had to
know that eventually something would go wrong. That Steve would, in all
probability, kill Bucky. They couldn’t have known about the true mate bond.”
Wanda stated.
Riley turned fully to face the women, still in the doorway, arms folded almost
protectively around himself and his precious unborn pre-pup. “But Hydra is led
by Pierce, who knows what triggers he had planted in Steve. If Pierce
programmed Bucky to trigger Steve . . .”
“He would get turned by Steven and then slowly destroy the Rogers clan from the
inside and possibly even bring chaos to the council,” Peggy finished. “Since
Steven was well on his way to becoming a member. If that’s true, then Bucky is
one of Steven’s triggers!”
“How in the world will we get around that one?” Wanda shook her head, her eyes
focused on Peggy, “we can’t separate them.”
“Since Steve was rescued from Pierce centuries before Bucky was born or
cultivated,” Riley interjected, “Pierce would have had to put in the triggers
with a long term plan. Thus, we need to break Bucky’s inclination to use the
triggers and go into end Steve’s triggers. Both will need the psychic
surgeries. Steve’s triggers will be cued to certain words and actions, not to
Bucky in particular but anyone he was close to, like a newborn, performing the
acts or saying the words.”
Peggy nodded. “Agreed.”
“What could Bucky have said to trigger Steve into converting him?” Wanda mused.
“Do we know what happened when they faced off?” Peggy asked. “If Bucky was
hunting Steve, what happened that Steve decided to rape Bucky?” The woman
refused to mince words. They needed to know everything to figure this out.
“Pierce sent Bucky to the factory, they fought . . . Steve accidentally pushed
Bucky into the automatic loom. Bucky was dying, so Steve did the only thing he
could think of to save him,” Natasha supplied with a shrug.
Peggy began to chuckle, shaking her head. “My lord. The twists of fate can be
kind to the enemy once in awhile.” She looked at the others. “It was sheer luck
that Steven converted him at that point. If Bucky hadn’t been thrown into the
loom, things could have been very different. It’s quite possible Bucky wasn’t
meant to be converted quite yet, as Steven was letting him go all that time.
Hydra may have expected Bucky to come home yet again.”
“Do you think Hydra is going to try and get Bucky back?” Natasha asked.
“They sent vampir to confuse and trigger the both of them, haven’t they?” Peggy
asked, frowning. “It’s one of the things I’ve been told about this case? Vampir
are made and controlled by Hydra. Alexander may be trying to work with what has
happened, controlling Bucky through the vampir. By now, he’ll even know that
the vampir had managed to control Steven, too. The conversion, while accidental
and unplanned, may have worked in Hydra’s favor.”
“Those triggers need to be removed as soon as possible. Ava is whelped now,”
Natasha stated firmly.
“Perfect,” Peggy smiled. “We can get Stephen Maximoff to work on both of them.”
“There may be some triggers that he can’t remove,” Riley ventured.
“Like what?” Wanda asked.
Shaking his head, Riley continued to hug himself. “I wouldn’t know. However, if
there is something more instinctual rather than manipulated or trained, Bucky
will react to instincts. Any of us would. We need to make sure Bucky realizes
that such a reaction isn’t because of a trigger, but because of nature. Such as
an Omega attacking its Alpha if its pup is threatened. Every time, no matter
the relationship, the dam protects the pup from the sire. Bucky needs to know
about that. If he perceived Steve’s actions as threatening, he may attack
Steve.”
***** Of Decisions and Battles *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Bucky cradled Summer close to his chest, bouncing her lightly as he looked over
at Steve who held their other pup. “You ready, Stevie?”
“Whenever you are, love,” Steve smiled at Bucky, though inside he was nervous.
The trial for Harry Osborn was in a few minutes and Steve had a feeling the
council would side with Harry.
Feeling his mate’s unease, Bucky stepped closer and leaned forward to press his
lips to his Alpha’s, it’s going to be okay, Steve. There’s no way Harry will
get anything less than death . . . he attacked another clan unprovoked.
The council might see our killing of Norman as provocation and Harry as
justified. Steve sighed, leaning in to return Bucky’s kiss.
Bucky nodded and looked down at Ava in Steve’s arms, she really likes you,
Steve . . . she always seems so happy in your arms. The Omega smiled fondly at
the small pup, his pale eyes dancing with love.
Chuckling, Steve also looked down at his daughter. I would hope she likes her
sire, he answered, letting Bucky distract him.
Suddenly Summer lay her little hand on Bucky’s chest and burbled, “Da . . . da
. . . da . . .”
Bucky gasped and looked down at Summer, “did she just . . .” his lips pulled
into a wider smile, his excited, loving scent engulfing the small space around
them.
“Try to say dam?” Steve nodded enthusiastically. “Clever Summer!”
The door opened and Natasha poked her head in, “the council has requested you
both.”
The tall blond look over and nodded. “Summer just said dam,” he informed their
friend but led the way to the other room, resigned to facing the council
despite their perceived prejudice against Steve Rogers and his ex-hunter mate.
Maybe they would prove the vampyr leader wrong.
The rest of those asked to come were already seated on a circle of wooden
benches around the perimeter of the room, below that of the council.
The brunet held Summer closer and walked slightly behind his mate, looking
around nervously; they hadn’t been able to leave the pups at the mansion
because all their other housemates aside from the humans, Wade, Peter, and
Johnny had been called in to testify as well. Bucky rocked Summer soothingly in
his arm, trying to keep his own nerves in check, not wanting to upset the pup
with his anxious energy. The council had made it quite clear of their thoughts
on Bucky . . . and he just hoped that their prejudice wouldn’t interfere with
justice.
Bow at the shoulders, Buck, and announce your name politely, Steve mentally
instructed.
Licking his lips in his nervous habit, Bucky nodded and confirmed over the
bond, things are going to be fine, Steve.
Of course they are, love, Steve answered then, out loud, said, “I am Steven
Rogers. Thank you for requesting my presence.” He bowed politely. “This is Ava
Rogers.”
Following his mate’s lead, Bucky bowed at the shoulders in the universal signal
of respect and said, “I am James Rogers,” he lifted Summer slightly, “and this
is Summer Rogers.” The Omega winced when he realized that he’d forgotten to
thank the council.
Thank them, Bucky . . . Steve prompted mentally. His face showed no hint of
expression aside from mild polite interest.
“Thank you for requesting our presence,” Bucky added, but nothing could change
the fact that it had sounded like a last minute add-on.
The council whispered quietly to one another before facing the pair once more.
One man in the center seat spoke in a perfectly calm, controlled manner, though
his eyes seemed to harbor ill will. “Sit, Omega immature.”
Bucky’s body immediately followed the direct order and sank down on one of the
benches. His cheeks flushed and his eyes fell in embarrassment and slight
anger. The ex-hunter still had issues with compelling; he hated the feeling of
not being in control of his own body, like being a passenger in his own mind.
The male vampyre in the center intoned, “Dam Rogers, is the pup fed?”
Bucky’s head snapped up and his pale eyes locked on the Elder, “yes . . . she
was fed before we arrived.”
“Good.” He turned to converse briefly with the others then turned back. “The
night of Norman Osborn’s death, you are reported as having defended a pup from
his unwarranted abduction attempt. Would that be the pup in your arms
currently?”
“Yes,” Bucky answered, he wanted to look to Steve . . . but he forced his eyes
to remain on the council member. The Omega couldn’t help but think that they’d
compelled him to sit just because they could; they hadn’t made Steve sit . . .
they hadn’t even directed a question to Steve . . . yet he remained standing
and they’d forced Bucky to sit.
“And not long after this defense of the pup, you encountered several members of
the deceased’s clan outside on the streets?” The elder asked.
“Yes, they attacked us,” Bucky pointed out, trying to keep his emotions calm.
The elder’s eyes narrowed, tone snapping. “I did not ask what they did or you
did, merely if there was an encounter. Do not take our allowance of you to sit
so soon after whelping as leave to be rude, Dam Rogers.”
This time Bucky did look to Steve, his eyes pleading . . . he hadn’t been rude
. . . had he?
Steve watched Bucky quite openly and offered the brunet a smile when their eyes
met. Apologize. Say you are tired from the feeding of two pups . . . two
active, healthy pups . . .
Bucky didn’t like the idea of apologizing for something he believed he didn’t
do, but he looked back at the Elder and said, a bit flatly, “I am sorry, I did
not mean to offend the council. I am tired from feeding both of our pups.”
The member of the council who had been speaking thus far nodded. “That is
understandable. To avoid confusion, I am asking simple answer questions. I
will, of course, ask your full report shortly, but will tell you so. Is that
clear?”
“Yes,” Bucky said.
Call him Elder, Buck, Steve said encouragingly.
“Yes, Elder,” Bucky added.
The man smiled at the correction and nodded. He looked back at the others and
whispered then looked down on Bucky once more. “How many died the night of the
encounter with the deceased’s clan?”
“Seven Osborn clan members died,” Bucky supplied, his fingers dancing over his
pup’s clothed skin, transferring a small bit of energy.
“Did any members of other clans or races die in the encounter, Dam Rogers?” the
man asked.
“No, Elder, no other clan members died,” Bucky answered.
The man nodded, apparently having already known the answer but for some reason
testing Bucky’s responses. He still ignored Steve, left standing while holding
a pup. “And, Dam Rogers, how many did you kill specifically?” Holding up a
hand, the elder added, “I do not say murder, Dam, but kill. Murder is yet to be
determined.”
Bucky blinked . . . he’d thought this hearing was for Harry’s sentencing . . .
was he on trial for murder?
Steve stiffened and frowned but stayed quiet. Fuck! We’re on trial?
The Omega’s grip on Summer tightened protectively and he looked up at the
Elder, “I killed two, Elder, two Osborn clan members in defence of my mate.”
“A number is all we require, Dam Rogers, or do we hold you in contempt?” The
man suddenly frowned down at Bucky.
Bucky’s jaw ticked and he ground out, “I apologize, Elder;” he spat the title
out.
The elder cocked an eyebrow and stared at Bucky hard. Finally, he said, “do you
respect the Council of Elders, James Rogers?”
“I respect what the Council of Elders stands for,” Bucky answered, his pale
eyes hardening slightly.
The elder actually nodded in acceptance of that caveat. “You took the life of
two vampyres in the larger encounter. That tallies with previous reports. Thank
you for your honesty, Dam Rogers.” The council member turned and whispered to
his group then faced Bucky. “When the encounter occurred, what was the first
action by either your house or the other?”
“Harry attacked my mate with his toxic energy,” Bucky reported, though he did
not add the respectful title at the end, leaving it off.
Apparently the elder didn’t seem to expect the title, either. He nodded. “And
thus, you retaliated to this perceived unprovoked attack? Yes or no.”
“Yes,” Bucky answered.
Nodding again, the man turned to the rest of the council, “as I pointed out.
The Rogers home was indeed attacked for no legitimate reason as the pup was a
Rogers, sanctioned by the council. Thus, when the Osborns attacked yet again,
the Rogers clan had a right and even a duty to defend themselves. I move we
sentence Harry Osborn as we can quite easily see that this was an attack on the
part of the Osborns and not the Rogers clan.”
A dark skinned female, young in appearance yet wise in tone, said, “agreed. The
Rogers are in the right to defend themselves. Harry Osborn brought ten other
clan members in an ambush on two lone vampyres, one of which was with pre-pup.”
Oddly enough, or perhaps they should have expected it, these two elders
appeared to be the only ones to feel Harry was in the wrong. A low argument
broke out among the council. After several long moments, the first elder to
have spoken held up his hand, frowning and glaring at his comrades before
wiping the expression clear and turning to Bucky. He and the dark female had
been out voted. “Dam Rogers, thank you for your testimony. You are relieved of
all orders. It is the judgement of the council that Harry Osborn reacted in
grief over the loss of his sire and his leader and therefore was not in mental
control at the time of his unfortunate actions.”
“What?” Bucky’s eyes widened as he shot to his feet, “he attacked us! He almost
killed us!”
“Dam Rogers, we are quite aware of what occurred and how much death resulted
from the unfortunate actions of a deranged man.”
“Deranged?” Bucky looked incredulous.
“Yes, Harry Osborn was insane. As you and your clan sustained no lasting
damage, nor were any other beings affected, and only the Osborns died that
night, we judge that his clan has paid the price for following his misguided
leadership. Harry Osborn will be relieved of leadership until time he proves
stable. He will be contained for four months, including time served, to be
released into the care of a safehouse of re-education.” The man fell silent at
Bucky’s next outburst.
“What? So had Steve or I been killed then just actions would be performed? Or
would his actions be justified as well?” Bucky shook his head, looking livid.
“If someone from your clan or allies had been killed, Harry would be facing
charges of outright murder. Death would most likely be the sentence as even
deranged, murder is not acceptable.”
“But unprovoked attacks are?” Bucky snapped back.
“Clearly, despite being ambushed, you were in better training and in better
control. Your side killed seven, Dam Rogers, while he and his ten allies killed
none. This proves that you had the upperhand, and his clan were fools and
madmen for their unprovoked attack. The clan has paid a heavy price for their
actions, losing seven Omega youths as well as an Alpha leader.”
Bucky shook his head but didn’t say anything else; words were pointless . . .
they would not change the council’s decision.
“Feel fortunate, Omega immature,” the elder looked down on Bucky, but did not
compel him. “SInce your conversion, you and your sire have killed many in
rather odd circumstances, shall we say, and have been exonerated every time.
This might not be the case next time such a death occurs. Take the sentence as
it is dealt and be glad we do not condemn you as a hunter of your own kind.”
The last words were said as a reminder that Bucky was a vampyre, not a slayer
of vampyres, any longer . . . as if the Omega might have trouble grasping this
concept.
The dark-skinned woman called out, “You may leave Rogers clan and guests of the
Rogers clan. Thank you.”
Steve sighed and hung his head, his feelings of defeat evident across the bond.
The council was barely siding with Bucky on this; Steve and Bucky were so close
to being the ones declared unfit and being sent to containment. And Steve
doubted it would be for time served. If Bucky were locked away, the blond knew
it would be permanent.
The Omega shook his head and turned to leave, without bowing or giving any
respect to the Elders. His anger and outright disbelief seeped through the
bond. They had not only compelled him in front of everyone, just for the sake
of it, but they hadn’t given Harry the punishment he’d deserved. An attack on a
clan was punishable by death.
Slowly the other members of Steve’s house filed out, Steve bringing up the
rear, as was proper for a leader. The tall blond glanced at his allies then
headed out the door, still carrying Ava pressed to his shirt. As stoic and
cold-eyed as Steve, Riley and T’Challa followed. Johnny had stayed behind with
Peter, Wade, and the human members that had weaseled their way into the house;
humans would never be called on to testify, despite Tony and Rhodey being there
for that fight. Clint looked to Bucky, frowning, blue-grey eyes troubled as he
carried his one month old son, Daniel.
Bucky either didn’t see Clint’s look or didn’t care, the Omega continued to
cradled Summer close to his chest, his eyes hard and jaw clenched. He didn’t
know why he’d expected anything different; it was obvious that the rest of his
species other than the few that lived with him, couldn’t see past his history;
he’d always be a hunter to them, no matter how much he tried to change.
Softly, from behind Bucky, Riley said, “well, that answers one important
question.”
“And what question would that be?” Bucky asked turning to face his friend.
The shorter blond met his eyes with a worried frown. “Just how many council
members sympathize with you. I counted two who tried to protest the insanity
defense: Ororo Summers and Erik Storm.”
Bucky shook his head and turned to continue walking out of the room; he had to
stop at the door with a frustrated growl, his only hand being taken up by
Summer.
Steve reached beyond his mate and opened the door for him, patient and very
quiet.
Stepping out into the crisp night air, Bucky hurried down the stone steps of
the large building and stopped once he reached the sidewalk. The Omega turned
to Steve, “that’s not right! Harry got away with almost killing us with a small
slap on the wrist!”
“I know,” Steve said on a near growl. His eyes had a golden fire in them as he
turned towards their home. “We should wait to discuss this or use our bond. Who
knows who might be listening.”
They opened the door for other attacks, Steve! Bucky looked up at his mate with
large, scared eyes.
I know. This is unheard of. Now anyone can plead insanity if they attack our
house. We aren’t safe anywhere in or even near New York City. Worry and anger
mixed in the blond’s mind. He looked at Bucky with equally worried eyes.
Then we leave. We settle down somewhere else! We can leave New York! Bucky
offered almost desperately.
I agree. We take Winnie and move far from this dystopian horror. Steve glanced
at the friends which couldn’t hear the private conversation. We will discuss
this with the entire house when we return, Bucky. I am sick of playing by the
rules of hypocrites and plotters. He met Bucky’s eyes. I’m even willing to take
the humans with us to protect them. I don’t doubt they’ll be targets for once
funding Hydra and then allying with us.
Bucky nodded his agreement and then turned to keep walking in the direction of
the mansion.
No one else seemed inclined to disturb the peace or discus the results of the
travesty of justice. It took almost an hour for the mixed group to find
themselves on the semi-welcoming steps of the Rogers’ mansion in Brooklyn.
Steve took a deep breath and nodded, leading the others up the stairs and
inside. Once the others entered, Steve shut the door and signaled them all to
the drawing room. He called out loudly, “house meeting, no exemptions, Tony!”
“What?” Me?” Tony came out of his second floor assigned suite, looking half
asleep though apparently he had been still awake, probably to hear the verdict.
Bucky walked into the drawing room and began to pace, holding Summer close to
his chest as he waited for the others follow.
“Da . . . da . . . da . . .” she babbled happily, apparently glad to be home
and out of that negative atmosphere, despite her dam’s present attitude.
Tony walked in and tugged Summer’s longish red hair as he passed, eliciting a
giggle from the small girl. Slowly, the rest of the household filed in, Peter
with his daughter, Ellie, the last to arrive. Even Stephen Maximoff, who had
been staying as a guest despite having already removed the triggers of the
leadership couple, arrived.
Bucky offered his daughter a fond smile and bounced her gently, causing her to
giggle again.
Steve offered his mate and pup a fond smile, cuddling Ava close once more and
letting some energy slide into her where his cheek lay on the top of her head.
“For those who were not present, Bucky and I were exonerated of murder
charges.” He waited for that to sink in, since the trial was supposed to have
been to decide Harry’s punishment.
Natasha shook her head and growled, “they were trying to get a rise out of
Bucky so they could hold him in contempt.”
“I know,” Steve nodded. “That was obvious from the moment they unnecessarily
compelled him in the name of politeness.” The blond shook his head then rocked
his pup. “Then they decided that Harry was guilty of insanity and would be
sentenced with time already served.”
Tony threw his hands in the air. “Sounds as corrupt as human courts.”
Bucky looked over to Steve, “they compelled me just because they could!”
Nodding his agreement, Steve said, “they did it to anger you, Bucky. To get you
to show disrespect so they could hold it against you.”
The Omega growled and shook his head, “well, that worked. They disrespected me
. . . they disrespected you. They hardly even looked at you!”
Steve sighed. “I was prepared to be ignored or blatantly disrespected. We went
in there knowing the council would most likely be tilted against us. What I
didn’t expect was for them to tell us to arrive to help with sentencing Harry
then turn it into an excuse to try us for murder.” He wrapped one arm around
his mate and looked to Sam, his oldest friend aside from Peggy. “We’re not
staying to let the council do this. Bucky and I are going to move far away from
the council’s power.”
“Where? Is there another Roger house somewhere? I thought they were wiped out a
long time ago?” Sam answered, wrapping his arm around his own mate, pulling
Riley and Nathaniel, their pup, close.
Steve shook his head. “This was the last Rogers house, Sam.”
“Then where will you go?” Sam questioned, trying to get his friend to see
reason, “with two pups . . . and Winnie?”
“We don’t know yet,” Steve answered honestly. “We’ll have to figure it out
before unresting our pup. But, I thought you should know. Any and all of you
are welcome to come with us into exile, hiding, whatever it is you want to call
it.” He glanced at Tony then back to Sam. “Once we’ve shut this house, you may
be targets, especially the humans and Wade and Petey.”
Wade stepped up behind Peter and placed a kiss on the brunet’s neck, “we’ll go
wherever you go . . . right baby boy?” The vampire peered over his mate’s
shoulder to meet his eyes.
“Yes. You’re our leader,” Peter answered, leaning into his mate and sire. “You
saved my life and Wade’s sanity.”
“Well, that one is still in the air,” Wade smiled at Steve and Bucky.
Steve gave a faint smile and bowed at the shoulders.
Tony glanced at his wife and shrugged, but didn’t say anything. Rhodey frowned.
“If we’re going to be hunted, I’d rather be with others. There’s strength in
numbers.”
Bucky eyebrows rose; he looked at Rhodey in mild shock. Rhodey had been the
last person the Omega had thought would follow them.
Noticing Bucky’s look, Rhodey frowned. “Hell, I thought moving into a household
of vampyres would spell our death, but you’ve actually helped us, even
protected us. I may think you guys need to keep your sex in the actual bedroom,
but I can accept moving with you if you need to.”
The Omega bowed his head slightly to Rhodey and gave the human a small smile.
Turning to look at Sam and Riley, he asked, “will you come with us?”
Riley met Bucky’s eyes and said, “I love you dearly, Bucky, but I go where Sam
goes.”
Sam frowned and looked over at Steve, “this is the only course of action you
think is available?”
“It’s the only one safe enough for Bucky, Sam,” Steve nodded. “But we won’t be
offended by anyone not coming. Hopefully, we may retain allies in the vampyre
community.”
Clint leaned into Nat, not saying anything, merely holding one of his pups
while he brushed against Nat and his other pup gently. Of course, leaving would
mean the further problem of leaving his wife from his past life, but no one
knew exactly how that would affect the stocky ex-hunter. He didn’t mention the
woman or why he chose to leave her completely unaware that he still lived.
Natasha pressed her lips to Clint’s temple and then looked at Steve, “we can
start that new clan you are always talking about.”
He nodded and smiled encouragingly. Natasha, Stephen and Wanda, T’Challa,
Johnny . . . none of them needed to leave; none of them were considered a
threat or a rebel. Sam might even get away with staying unmolested with Riley,
though Steve secretly felt the council was becoming aware that Riley had been
the one to slaughter a group of vampyres way back. Crimes like that eventually
were solved in the vampyre community.
Sam looked down at Riley, “what do you want to do, Riley?”
“I’m not very socially inclined after years in hiding. I made this same choice
hundreds of years ago and only came out because I was forced to by the
slaughter of the house I lived in. I would hate for another house I called
family to meet that same fate.” Riley looked up at Sam. “I go with you,
whatever you choose, Sam. You are my mate.”
The dark-skinned Alpha sighed and nodded, he turned his eyes back to Steve and
gave his friend a firm nod, “we’ll follow you.”
Steve let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.
Johnny spoke up. “I should say I’ll follow and help with Summer, but I don’t
like the idea of separating from my own clan. The Storms have never been ones
to hurt you. They remain allies.”
“I can feed Summer in the daylight,” Bucky said, turning to look at Johnny, “do
not feel obligated to join us if you do not want to.”
“I do not know what to choose.” The tall blond shook his head, meeting Bucky’s
eyes. “I need to think on it. After all, you could probably go to the Storms
and not be molested. Would the council be so harsh if you both agreed to
someone else’s leadership, for instance, instead of your own?”
“We should not have to surrender our leadership just to get the council off our
backs,” Bucky said softly.
“And yet, Natasha Romanov is being asked to give up her safehouse leadership?
Stephen Maximoff his clan leadership? Sam Wilson his clan leadership? I know
you aren’t forcing anyone, but is pride really the issue here or the safety and
happiness of your pups in their own culture?” Johnny pointed out in a
reasonable tone.
“We aren’t asking anyone to do anything . . . it is their choice. We simply
said we are leaving and anyone who wants to come is welcome,” Bucky said, his
tone sharp.
The Storm Alpha nodded, “maybe I expressed that badly, Bucky. I mean, others
are willing to give up power and family. You have been offered another choice,
other than moving far away. Would you consider other options or is the threat
from the council really that powerful?”
“The council wants nothing more than to see Steve and I in containment. Only
two members are sympathetic . . . they turned Harry’s sentencing into a murder
trial for myself and Steve.” Bucky shook his head.
Johnny frowned, shaking his head. “You’ve said that, both of you, several
times, but how could they? Harry had already been judged the attacker in this
crime. You were cleared already. Everyone knows it was a sentencing hearing.
How could they turn around and reopen it without upsetting any of the clans
with members watching?”
“No one was watching, Johnny,” Steve said firmly. “It was our house and the
council only.”
Stunned, Johnny shook his head. “But that’s unethical. All trials are open to
the public. No council decisions shall be held in private to keep the council
aware of their public duty and the fairness they must always seek. How could
anyone not want to see the results of such a breach of trust as this ambush?”
Steve repeated, “no outside clan members were present, even from the Osborns.
Only those involved in the house of Rogers or the council members. We saw no
hint of the containment caregivers, either. Bucky was, Johnny, literally put on
trial today in a closed council.”
The slightly smaller blond shook his head, apparently unable to believe such a
thing could happen. He looked to Natasha as a voice of reason to counter such
paranoia.
“What they say is true, Johnny. They were purposely trying to get a rise out of
Bucky. He was on trial for murder, under a guise of a sentencing hearing,”
Natasha offered with a small frown, she rocked Ana, her and Clint’s other pup,
in her arms.
Stephen put his hands up to draw attention. “Emotions are high and instincts
are to hide from vulnerability. I say those who are certain they wish to leave
start making their personal arrangements. The rest of us have heard what is
happening. It is up to us, individually, to determine our own goals and if we
will reveal these plans to the council.” He met Bucky’s eyes. “I, for one, wish
to sleep and address the situation fresh tomorrow night. The dawn is
approaching and that will likely muddle lesser minds than mine.”
Bucky nodded and looked to Steve, “he’s right. Let’s get some rest. We can make
the rest of the arrangements tomorrow.”
Steve nodded. “You are all still welcome here. Please, rest and consider your
own fates?” The tall blond sighed. He then guided Bucky from the room, Ava in
one arm, the other around his beloved mate.
Once in the room, Bucky set Summer in her crib and then slowly straightened,
letting his fingers trail along the pup’s face for a few seconds before sighing
and running his fingers through his hair, ruffling the short locks in his
obvious frustration.
Steve place Ava in the same crib so the sisters could feed each other during
their rest. It was the best they could do far Summer while they rested
themselves. The larger vampyre turned and placed his lips to the back of his
mate’s neck, nipping slightly but somehow more subdued than his normal playful
nips. Softly he said, “tomorrow I’ll research the ceremony used to move a
resting family member so Winnie can stay resting as we transport her.”
Bucky growled and whirled around to face Steve, “why can’t they just let us be?
We just wanna raise our family in peace!”
Shaking his head, Steve frowned. “I don’t know, Bucky. None of this makes
sense. Other hunters have been converted in the past and never been met with
this much resistance. I expected hatred and prejudice, but this is far beyond
the normal scale.”
The Omega shook his head and began to pace, yet another nervous tick he’d
developed since conversion; he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging
slightly, “what do they want from us?”
“And if they are so set against you and I, why allow us Summer to begin with?”
Steve asked, sounding troubled as he watched his Omega.
Still continuing his pacing, Bucky growled, eyes flashing, “you don’t think
they’ll try to take Summer, do you?”
“If they do, the only person they could hope to give her to would be Johnny.
She’ll starve otherwise, Buck. Even the council, as screwed up as they are,
wouldn’t let an innocent pup starve to death!”
“And you know that for certain?” Bucky turned to look at his mate.
Throwing his hands in the air, Steve huffed out, “I know nothing, Bucky. Why
would I? Everything I’ve ever believed or been taught has been twisted and
thrown in my face by a laughing shadow! I don’t understand any of this!” He
looked partly lost, party scared, and very angry.
“Laughing shadow? You mean the vampir?” Bucky asked, his pacing stopping.
“What?” Steve looked confused. “Vampir? Weren’t we talking about the council?”
He couldn’t follow his mate’s lightning fast subject changes.
“You said ‘everything you’ve ever believed or been taught has been twisted and
thrown in my face by a laughing shadow’,” Bucky pressed, his golden eyes
watching his mate closely.
“I . . .” Steve frowned, thinking back on his words, which had been far from
planned out. He nodded. “I guess I did. But, I . . . why would you think I
meant vampir? I . . .” he shuddered and shook his head. “I keep feeling like
something’s whispering to me, you know, like a shadow or something might?” By
then he was all confused and unsure what he was even talking about anymore.
“When? Where do you hear this whispering, Steve?” Bucky’s whole body seemed to
stiffen and his eyes looked around the room before settling back on Steve.
“I don’t know?” the large blond sounded as confused as he felt. “I don’t know
if I hear anything. Every time I leave your side? Or maybe it’s a dream . . .
or a memory?” He ran a hand through his blond locks and growled softly, “people
were always whispering around me when I was with Pierce.”
“Steve . . . those vampir that were watching the house were whispering to you .
. . trying to trick you and trigger you. Are you telling me they are still in
the house? Still trying to trigger you?” Bucky’s eyes were pure fiery gold now.
“Bucky, Stephen already dealt with our triggers. Even if a vampir was hiding in
our very bathing room it couldn’t trigger me.” Steve shrugged, looking
troubled, his eyes an answering gold.
Bucky frowned and walked into the washroom; he seemed to look around, trying to
see if he could sense any signs of a vampir.
The light from their sleeping chamber seem to chase the shadows out of the
room, leaving it quite plainly empty, just the very faint scent of muskiness in
the air.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were still hearing the whispering, Steve?” Bucky
asked as he walked back into the bedroom after he’d completely checked the
washroom.
Steve merely stared at him with confusion in his sleepy eyes. “Whispers? I . .
. was I hearing whispers?” His voice had taken on a dull tone, the scent of
muskiness a bit stronger, especially from the balcony overlooking the flower
garden.
Bucky blinked and followed the scent, uncaring about the rising sun as he
opened the balcony door and walked outside, making sure to shut the door to
block the sun from the pups.
As the sun dawned, the shadows ran across buildings and combined into darker
alcoves, much like the shadows had fled the washroom when Bucky opened the
door. The scent of marigolds lingered over the rose garden.
The Omega shouted in Steve’s mind, Steve! Go to Sam! Get our pups out of the
room! Bucky hurried over to the edge, he could already feel the sun draining
him, but he couldn’t let the vampir get away again. The shadows had disappeared
but something else seemed to be approaching . . . the sound of carriages, in
force, at least half a dozen.
The answering mind replay was dull and distant, Bucky? Aren’t we supposed to be
sleeping? But the Alpha scooped up a pup in each arm, his face a frown of
confusion, his eyes a very dark midnight blue.
Go to Sam, Steve! Now! Bucky hopped down the balcony, landing with a soft roll
on the plush grass and bolting after one of the shadows, only to see the
carriages and freeze. The Omega crouched behind a tree, the shade offering some
relief from the sun as he peered over the trunk to watch the approaching
carriages.
All six lined up smartly in front of the Rogers house, as if a great party were
expected or guests were arriving for a pre-planned affair. All shaded by hats,
veils, and gloves, the vampyres, male and female, alighted from their
transports and headed up the walkway to the front door, as polite in vampyre
society for social calls.
Steve! Were we expecting a large crowd? Bucky tried to stay hidden as he
watched the large group of at least thirty vampyres.
A dull numbness responded before Steve sluggishly said, Bucky? It’s daylight.
Who visits in daylight? That’s an ungodly hour for visits.
Shit! We’ve got company, Steve. Unfriendly. Get the pups somewhere safe! Bucky,
on his quiet feet, approached a closer bush, kneeling behind it to get a closer
look.
Unfriendly coming to call by way of the door? Steve’s mind seemed to be
clearing at least, though it was uncertain if a vampir still hid in the house
ready to control the susceptible Alpha. They’re knocking, Buck. Unfriendlies
don’t knock, right? And Bucky saw the front door open, despite the fact that no
one had spoken its business or name.
Don’t answer! For God’s sake, Steve! Get all the pups in the safe room! Bucky
watched in horror as the door opened.
Steve, minus the pups, stood on the stoop, shielding his eyes and face, but
pale as the sun hit him. “What do you wish, elder?” the blond asked before the
visitors swept over him and into the house, Steve screaming in pain from an
intense agony in his gut.
Bucky launched himself from his position and grabbed the nearest vampyre,
wrenching it from the front door by the back of its collar.
The unknown vampyre snarled, sounding perhaps feminine, and turned to fight the
disadvantaged Bucky, the unknown vampyre still shielded in veil and other
protective covering.
Bucky hissed in response, baring his fangs in a menacing snarl.
Suddenly, before Bucky could move, a cloak was thrown over his head from inside
the house, instantly cutting off the sun’s harmful rays. A low growl said, “for
god’s sake, lure it inside where you have a chance, Bucky!” The voice was
Riley’s and the blond Omega turned to run after someone else, well inside the
confines of the mansion.
Using his speed and agility, Bucky backed into the house, his eyes still
focused on the feminine vampyre. He could feel Steve’s pain through the bond
but Bucky couldn’t worry about that now . . . as long as Steve was feeling
pain, his mate was still alive.
An intense heat seared right past Bucky, engulfing the feminine adversary,
burning up the expensive cloak and outdoor coverings. What remained proved in
fact to be a male vampyre, a youth Bucky barely recalled from the safehouse
months ago. Johnny literally swooped past, seeming to be on fire as he actually
flew up the steps after someone else.
Another vampyre lunged at Bucky from his armless side, sinking talons into his
shoulder and ripping downwards. “Die, you filthy bitch! For what you did to my
mate, you will rot in the sun!”
Bucky screamed, and stumbled back, his right side slamming against the hall
wall, he turned to face the newest attacker and snarled.
A movement again to his left proved distracting as Pietro bounded out from the
entrance to the tombs. “Buck! The pups are safe! They’re . . .” he stopped mid
sentence as the assailant tried to rip him open, causing the teen to duck into
the drawing room at a speed that made even Steve look slow.
The brunet Omega, despite his bleeding injuries, launched himself at the
attacker and brought them both to the ground. He used his arm to pin the
vampyre down as he attempted to gain access to the throat so he could kill it.
A sudden knee to the crotch sent stars shooting off in Bucky’s mind as his
assailant wrestled away and scrambled towards the tomb entrance. “I’ll take
your pups in place of my mate! Every last one of them will feel the drain of
the sun!” The dark-haired man disappeared down the steps at a clatter.
Bucky pushed to his feet, pain radiating through his body and the claw marks
still leaking a precious flow of energy. The Omega ran down, using his natural
speed to catch up with the attacker.
Inside the tomb, all of the pups, along with Peter, Becca, and an injured Steve
fought off a pair of vampyres, far away from the open doorway to the gardens
where sunlight streamed in only so far. The light didn’t reach Winnie’s tomb,
which is where Peter cowered, Ava and his own Ellie in his arms.
The third vampire managed to tug a random infant from the protective group and
hold his talons to its neck, but a smile of pure malice swept over Steve’s
face. The large blond uncurled, golden energy leaking down his abdomen, and
gave a mighty kick to Bucky’s adversary, sending him and the helpless pup
tumbling into the sunlight. The pup let out a laugh while the attacker screamed
in agony. “Good girl, Summer!” Steve growled, collapsing to the ground as his
limited energy was spent for the moment, panting and trying to regain himself.
Becca growled at one of the other two, her body protectively in front of her
own adopted pup, as well as Peter, Ava, Ellie, and the twins. There was no sign
of Riley’s son or Bucky’s other daughter.
Bucky surged out of the tomb into the sunlight where he heard his daughter’s
laughter.
“No, Buck!” Steve pushed after his mate, knowing Summer would be fine in the
ultraviolet but the brunet Omega would not.
Ignoring his mate’s cry, Bucky stepped outside; the sun had risen completely
over the horizon and the bright light nearly blinded him. The Omega tried to
blink a few times to clear the effects of the ultraviolet rays as he stumbled
towards where he could hear Summer.
“Buck!” Steve saw the lunge of the oddly unaffected slender female hurtling
towards Bucky and Summer. With a growl, the blond tried to gather his waning
strength, but the female won out, slamming forcibly into Bucky and holding a
fistful of energy directly to the brunet’s abdomen.
Bucky screamed, writhing on the grassy ground as he attempted to push the
attacker off with his only hand.
“You stole from us, so I steal from you, you petty bitch!” She lit up her
energy as bright as a star, a deep violet shade.
The pain burned through Bucky’s skin, blistering and all-encompassing, the
Omega felt as if the burning went straight into where his womb was. He
continued to try and push her off, but his body seemed to spasm in the sun,
making his attempts useless.
Suddenly, the woman jerked off the traumatized brunet, her body convulsing and
deep violet energy draining in a river over the Omega on the ground. Steve
threw the vampyre’s spine in one direction and the broken body in another, like
so much garbage. He grabbed Bucky’s legs and dragged him inside before
collapsing, their pup still laughing in the bright sunlight. As the other
attacker lay sickening and agonizing outside, and Becca killed the one
remaining in the tomb, a soft laughter crept closer and closer to the wounded
pair near Winnie’s vault, the laughter sounding like Summer’s merry joy.
The pup of seven months crawled happily to her parents and headbutted Bucky’s
side with a giggle. “Da . . . da . . .” she glowed a violet color of her own
from her immersion in full sunlight, her energy spilling over into her dam.
Bucky’s entire body practically convulsed on the tomb floor, the small amount
of energy from the pup and Steve not nearly enough to heal the large, gaping
hole in his abdomen, bright gold energy pumped from the large wound, pooling
below the Omega’s body. A sickening, almost blueish green seemed to pale the
Omega’s skin as his lungs gasped for breath, a wet, choking sound.
Suddenly, another vampyre sealed her lips over Bucky’s, pumping him full of
energy. His sister cried out, “don’t you die on me, too, Bucky!” She worked
hard to get her flesh against his, trying to push her energy stores at her
older brother, her hands literally inside the gaping abdominal wound as she
began to heal it from the inside out.
The Omega’s hand, which had been clutching at Becca’s shirt, fell limply to his
side and Bucky’s eyes rolled back; the choking noises stopped and the the
Omega’s chest stopped rising, the bond between himself and Steve seemed to cut
off into a dead silence.
A second vampyre threw himself directly over Bucky, and a great wash of green
energy, bright as emeralds but soft as angora, washed over the injured man.
Clint stripped his friend and lay down against his side, his own clothes torn
open, but made no move to try to mate or feed Bucky. He merely used full skin
contact, while Becca continued to concentrate her healing, both desperately
trying to save the injured Omega.
“Bucky?” Steve called out, weakly looking up, his arm wrapped over his own
generously draining wound. Buck? No! Baby, talk to me! I’m right here!
Desperation filled the large Alpha’s tones and despair washed over his
exhausted body. He crawled closer, one hand finally reaching Bucky’s right
hand, twining fingers. Steve’s sapphire-gold eyes filled with tears as he
willed his mate back to him. Don’t leave me, Bucky!
Natasha heard a very desperate call from Clint in her mind. He seemed
terrified. Natasha! Alpha! He’s dying!
The red haired Alpha finished with the attacker she’d been fighting with a
quick snap of it’s neck and ran down to the vaults where she felt her Omega’s
presence. She’d worry about Clint being able to speak in her mind later.
Skidding to a stop beside Bucky’s lifeless form, behind Steve, she eyed the
large wound that seemed to be struggling to knit itself together.
“Clint, darling, I need you to feed him . . . Steve doesn’t have enough energy
to spare,” Natasha ordered gently.
Nodding, Clint lay on his back and pulled Bucky on top of him, still belly up.
He reached down behind Bucky and pushed his passage open, guiding himself
inside with his other hand. Clint was up to having sex with pretty much anyone,
actually, so it was no hardship to become erect for Bucky at a moment’s notice.
The stocky blond was always overflowing with excess energy, both sexual and
psychic. He quickly bottomed out, not quite as tight a fit as the overly large
Alpha Bucky had mated with. Clint began thrusting from underneath and behind,
slow and steady like Natasha had shown him months before.
Kneeling down beside Steve she pushed against him gently, “Steve, let go . . .
I need to get to him. Becca, keep infusing the wound.”
Obeying, despite his fears, Steve let go Bucky’s hand and fell back, dragging
Summer with him.
Eyes burning a vibrant green, Natasha put her hands over Becca’s and began to
infuse her own strong energy into the wound, sealing it within a few moments.
Both women’s hands were covered in the gold energy that had been seeping from
the wound. “Can you keep going?” Natasha asked Becca; she didn’t want the other
fledging to drain all her own energy trying to save her brother.
Nodding, Becca lifted bright green eyes. “Yes, please . . . I can’t lose him,
too! What should I do?” With T’Challa upstairs fighting, Becca was left without
a sire to guide her.
“Put your hands over where his lungs would be, keep transferring energy. Tell
me if you feel like it is getting to be too much, last thing we need is you
passing out,” Natasha stated.
Becca nodded obediently and began infusing her energy into Bucky’s lungs, one
hand on either side of his chest. A low groan and whimper could be heard in the
garden.
The safehouse leader looked to the door, still infusing bright green energy
into the healed wound; she didn’t know the ramifications for Bucky having that
large of a wound open for that amount of time. Natasha feared the wound could
easily make the Omega infertile if he survived.
Steve bit out, “he tried to steal Summer, so I let him take her outside . . .
at speed. There’s another out there, as well, but she’s kind of lost the
backbone to fight.” The gallows humor was unlike Steve, proving his total
despair since he wasn’t watching his words or trying to be polite.
Bucky gasped and his back arched, his skin still that sickly near green color,
but his eyes opened just a little and he seemed to be taking in the vast amount
of energy he was being given. “Ste . . .ve . . .” he breathed out.
“Right here, Baby!” Steve responded out loud, then silently added Right here,
with Summer and Ava, my beautiful Bucky. My perfect Omega. The big blond knew
that eventually the brunet would become aware that it wasn’t Steve feeding him.
After a few more minutes, the Omega groaned and squirmed, “out . . . not . . .
Steve . . .”
“Shh,” Clint soothed, stroking Bucky’s short hair carefully, the other hand on
his hip. “I’m feeding you. You’re guts were blown apart, Bucky.”
Natasha, after another few minutes, finally pulled away and nodded at Becca,
“he is healed. Just weakened now. Clint, darling, you can pull out now.”
The woman let her hands drop, shoulders drooping.
The other Omega obeyed as quickly as he’d obeyed the order to begin. He gently
pulled from Bucky’s body and let the brunet rest still laying on top of him.
Clint reached around the pull a strip of Bucky’s trousers over the brunet’s
crotch for modesty. “Don’t move too quick, Bucky,” he advised softly, so much
more mature sounding than his normal childish-seeming manner.
Bucky’s head flopped to the side, looking at his sister, “thank you . . . Becca
. . .” the Omega’s breathing still came out in small gasps but his color seemed
to be returning to normal. His eyes were half gold and half blue, but his lips
twitched in a ghost of a smile, “my . . . sister . . .”
“You sure do cause me a lot of trouble, big brother,” she gasped on a semi-
laugh, semi-sob.
“What . . . brothers . . . are . . . for,” Bucky breathed.
“No,” she countered on a definite chuckle, “little sisters are supposed to be
trouble.”
“Love . . . you . . . Becca,” Bucky’s hand lifted to touch Becca’s cheek.
A sudden influx of intense, painful, red energy infused the entire house and
every being, mind and body, inside and out. Pain and grief and rage overwhelmed
enemy and ally alike, and everyone fell unconscious, starting with the weakest.
A scream of utter loss and betrayal echoed throughout the building and
everyone’s minds.
Natasha fell to the ground with a gasp, hand over her heart where the pain
seemed to radiate, even though that organ hadn’t pumped in centuries; she
looked over and saw Bucky unconscious once more, as well as Becca, Steve and
all the pups. Peter was pressed against the wall, looking just as pained as
her; his eyes slowly began to droop shut. She watched as her own Omega seemed
to writhe on the ground, underneath the unconscious brunet. She attempted to
crawl over to Clint but collapsed as her mind and body screamed in pain; her
hand reached out for her Omega’s, who’d passed out just moments before, but her
fingers fell short as her mind went dark.
***** Of Recovery and Relocation *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Group Sex
Bucky groaned, his head pounded behind his eyes and his whole body felt like
it’d been hit by a steam train. He attempted to open his eyes but quickly shut
them with another groan of pain as even the dim lighting of the room seemed to
cause a stabbing ache. Steve? You there? Bucky called out to his mate, his
right hand moved over the soft fabric below him . . . it took a moment for the
Omega to realize he was lying in a bed.
Right here, Bucky, my love, Steve’s mental voice sounded soft and sure, and
like he may have been awake for some time longer than the brunet.
What the hell happened? Bucky slowly opened his eyes, hissing quietly at the
light before blinking the pain away. He was in their room . . . how had they
gotten up here? The last thing Bucky could remember was being in the tombs.
I don’t know yet. I woke up a minute or two ago, Steve responded. Slowly, Steve
shifted, pushing something small and living against Bucky, between them.
From the Omega’s other side came a small gurgle and a soft “Da . . .”
Bucky looked down at Summer and cracked a small smile, but the expression faded
into a wince as he tried to sit up, a sharp ache stabbing through his abdomen.
“Don’t move,” Steve rasped out loud. “You’re still finishing healing.”
The Omega whimpered and laid back down, “how bad was it? I just know it hurt .
. . didn’t really look down.”
“I don’t know, but I remember Becca with her hands inside your womb, Bucky.”
Steve nuzzled his mate’s neck softly, his entire body aching and tired, his own
gut finally healed and twinging only slightly.
Bucky’s hand moved to trail over his abdomen, he could feel bumpy, almost
rough, skin under his fingertips, covering most of the Omega’s abdomen and
webbing down to his pelvis.
A soft knock followed by Riley’s tired voice came, “Bucky? Steve? It’s Riley. I
have answers if you’re ready? Stephen said you woke up?”
The Omega winced and pulled his hand away, using it to help push himself up
slightly, propping his head up against the pillows so he wasn’t lying entirely
on his back. “Yeah . . . come in, Riley.”
The door opened and Riley walked in, carrying his son in his arms. “First, let
me tell you that Pietro died and Wanda knocked out everyone, including us.” He
didn’t mince words or hide facts, striding in to sink onto a chair, feeding his
pup with a gentle hand over the boy’s belly.
“Pietro . . . how?” Bucky asked, grief and shock radiating through the bond.
“He was protecting me and Nathaniel,” Riley said, grief lacing through his
tones. A scar running down the side of Riley’s head caught the light as he
moved. “I was tripled up on and was trying to push Nathaniel under a wardrobe
to hide him when they attacked. Pietro heard my scream and . . . disobeyed
Darcy’s compel. We’re still trying to figure out how he pulled that one off.”
Riley shook his head and sighed. “He was torn apart as I watched, too weak to
help him.”
Tears sprang to Bucky’s eyes and he covered his mouth with a shaky hand to
muffle the sob that broke past his lips.
“Wanda has been subdued and is being kept in a coma by Stephen until he can
take the time to help her through this.” Riley looked at Bucky. “He was the
last one down and the first awake and moved everyone to their respective beds
hours ago. He’s resting now. Her fledgling, Vision, is also comatose, by
Stephen’s touch, to prevent confusion and disorientation.”
“Are - - are all the attackers dealt with?” Bucky asked softly, dropping his
hand to rest on Summer.
“No. We think we were attacked by at least twenty-six, but since no one saw
them come, we aren’t sure how many. Four of those twenty-six are still alive
and have been handed over to the council. They were executed within the hour.
Stephen made certain of it.”
“I saw them come, I watched them come to the door,” Bucky muttered softly, his
grief for his slain friend still rushing through him and seeping into the mate
bond.
“How many are unaccounted for, Bucky?” Riley asked, leaning forward. “Were you
able to count them?”
“I - - I thought I counted at least thirty . . . but - - it happened pretty
fast . . .” Bucky reported.
Riley nodded, his shoulders slumping a moment before he straightened once more.
“The rest of us were wounded but recovered, though Peter is sequestered with
Wade, apparently the violence drove the boy into a bloodlust.” Meeting Bucky’s
eyes, Riley gave the good news. “None of the pups were permanently injured,
even by Wanda’s attack, and Darcy is pregnant.”
Bucky closed his eyes, a few tears falling down his still paler than normal
skin; he released a shaky breath before opening them again, “how far along is
she?”
“One month,” Riley answered. “She had been keeping quiet due to the confusion
going on. But she’s quite willing . . .” Taking a breath, Riley changed what he
was saying, “we’re all quite willing to join you in exile. Even Johnny is
disgusted. At least two elders, one a council member, were among the dead.”
“We leave as soon as we can get packed up and perform the transport ceremony
for Winnie.” Steve’s tone was firm.
“There was a Summers, Riley . . . one of the attackers was a Summers,” Bucky
looked down at Summer, still pressed against his right side, and he stroked her
tuft of bright red hair. He looked back up at his friend with pain in his eyes.
Riley looked towards the door then back to Bucky. “Clint is still unconscious,
but he spent a lot of energy, I hear. As did Becca? How are you feeling,
Bucky?”
“Like I got hit by a train . . . my - - my abdomen still hurts . . . aches . .
. but are they going to be okay? They didn’t overexert themselves, did they?”
Bucky’s pale eyes widened and his guilt and fear bled through the bond.
Shaking his head, Riley finally offered his rare smile. “No and Natasha is
acting like a wounded bear. She’s growling protectively over Clint and their
pups but acting as if she’s annoyed she was hurt. Becca’s fine and fawning over
Damien and T’Challa.”
“I shouldn’t have gone outside . . . all I could focus on was that Summer was
outside . . . it was stupid - - she . . . she would’ve been fine, more than
fine, in the sunlight.” Bucky sighed and winced as he sat up more.
“Fine in sunlight,” Riley confirmed, “but the female that attacked you? Ripped
out your womb? She was a Summers as well. She was fine in sunlight.”
“Ripped out . . .” Bucky turned to look at Steve then back at Riley.
“Okay, imploded if you prefer that term, but Bucky, the result is the same.
You’re alive, but in all probability sterile,” Riley clarified.
Steve merely hugged his mate, sitting up and holding Bucky, nuzzling his neck.
You’re alive, my Omega, my beautiful Bucky. Steve sounded more relieved than
anything else.
“Sterile . . . as in . . . no more pups?” Bucky seemed to have slipped into a
state of shock.
Steve lifted his face at last from his mate’s scent glands. “As in no more pups
from your loins, Buck, but we can adopt if you wish.”
With a shrug then a hand on Bucky’s knee, Riley said, “unless someone invents a
way to combine your eggs and Steve’s sperm in someone else’s womb? Yes,
sterile, Bucky. I am sorry.”
Bucky pulled back the comforter to look down at his torso; the Omega whimpered
at the sight of a large mass of silvery burn scars that covered almost all of
his abdomen and licked down to the beginning of his pelvis.
“I would tell you that it would have happened had you become an Alpha, but that
is no comfort. However, you can sire pups, if you’re inclined, just not with
Steve. His womb sealed up decades ago.” Riley placed his hand back on
Nathaniel’s belly.
The Omega took a deep breath and nodded; in a pained tone, one he used often
when he wished not to speak any further on a subject, he said, “we should get
ready for the move . . . where - - where will Pietro be put to rest?”
“With Winnie, of course. He’s family,” Steve murmured. “I think even Wanda has
to agree with that? Everyone that belongs to this house is our family.”
Bucky nodded and, careful to avoid pushing his daughter out of bed, moved to
slip out of the sheets. As soon as he stood straight, he hissed and had to use
the bedside table to help keep himself upright.
Riley lifted his eyes to respectfully avoid staring at Bucky’s nudity. The
blond seemed exhausted as he stood slowly, wincing slightly, and sighed. “I’ll
go inform Sam that we should begin getting ready. He suggested New England, up
in the top of Maine.”
“What do you think, Bucky? Plenty of trees and nature, very few people up there
on the border of Canada . . . probably enough wildlife to feed Wade and Peter.”
“Sounds good,” Bucky said in a breathless gasp and nodded. The Omega began to
shuffle over to the wardrobe, his hand wrapped around his aching stomach.
Softly Steve advised, The more you can move, the more you restretch your
muscles, Bucky love. Tony also left a message to see him when you wake up. I
should have mentioned it.
Okay, Bucky replied shortly and pulled out some trousers and a linen shirt.
With a deep, steadying breath the Omega bent over to pull on the pants,
eliciting another wince.
If you don’t want to, I can tell him to see you later? Steve offered, a soft
frown on his face as he rose, equally nude, and began to tend the pups.
Riley slipped from the room without further word.
Bucky slowly pulled up the trousers; it took longer than normal, but he finally
clasped them shut and slipped the thin shirt over his head. The Omega didn’t
answer Steve, his mind thrumming with his grief and fear.
Hanging his head, Steve finished feeding the girls then moved to dress himself.
Whenever Bucky got like this, he seemed to push away his mate, and that hurt
Steve as much as losing friends and family. It was as if he was inadequate to
help his beloved.
“It’s my fault . . .” Bucky muttered softly, his back to Steve and his hand
resting on the doorknob.
“How?” Steve looked up, fastening his trousers shut over his new scars.
“How? Who was the one to attack Pietro in the first place? Who brought him into
this,” Bucky waved around with his trembling hand, “mess?”
“Hydra,” Steve answered promptly. “Just like they attacked you. Bucky, by your
reasoning we are each guilty of every single action anyone takes. Yes, Pietro
was a vampyre due to your actions, but that didn’t lead to his death today.
That could have happened earlier, in fact, because he was a hunter! You
prolonged his life and reunited him with Wanda, if anything.”
“Reunited them only to have him ripped from her all over again,” Bucky said
bitterly.
“Which would have happened even if he remained a human, Bucky. Listen to me,
please.” Steve strode over and wrapped his arms around his mate. “Stop blaming
yourself for everything and everyone. He died, yes, but he had a few happy
months . .. happier than he had been as a human alone in the world. It’s all
anyone can ask, isn’t it? To get that second chance? And he saved Riley and
Nathaniel, a hero’s death.”
Bucky’s eyes welled with tears again, and he turned around to bury his face in
Steve’s chest; he let his grief out and sobbed.
Hugging Bucky, dropping tender energy-laced kisses to the top of the brunet’s
head, Steve rocked his mate, letting love flow through their bond. He shared
Bucky’s grief, which he didn’t hide, but he was confident that Pietro wouldn’t
have chosen a different life than the one he’d wound up with. The boy died the
way he’d dreamed of . . . saving those he cared about. And Pietro had even
broken his compelling to do so.
After a few moments, Bucky pulled away and wiped his damp cheeks with his hand.
He took another deep breath, “I’m going to see what Tony wants . . .”
“If he gets stupid, walk out on him, Bucky. Don’t let him torment you.” Steve
frowned and gave his mate a last kiss. “I’ll get the girls downstairs for a big
family meeting to discuss the move.”
Bucky nodded and, without another word, slipped out of the room and limped down
the hall, stilling clutching his sore abdomen. Once he reached Tony’s door, he
knocked, “Tony, it’s Bucky . . . you sent for me?”
“Yeah, come on in, Bucky,” the inventor said, for once using the nickname
instead of Bucky’s former human identity or his name used by the council.
Looking over, the small raven-haired man frowned and studied the limping
vampyre. “So, electrical pulses.”
“Excuse me?” Bucky asked stepping into the room and shutting the door behind
him.
“Why? You break wind? Fan that shit outta here, I got a delicate nose.” Tony
turned to his workshop desk, covered in a cloth. “Electrical impulses. They
send energy from a battery to an end point, allowing motors to run among other
things, but really inefficiently at the moment. Still working on that. Nickel-
Cadmium batteries are so very limited and how often can you harness a lightning
storm, am I right?”
Bucky blinked slowly, looking completely lost and confused. His arm still
wrapped around his middle, he tried to will the ache deep inside him to go
away.
“But there is a source of electricity that runs more efficiently than anyone
can ever dream! And the power behind that energy can rival the largest bolt of
pure lightning. That energy, that electricity, can run any machine put to it,
if applied correctly.” Tony sounded excited.
“Tony . . . please, can we skip to the part where you explain why you asked for
me?” Bucky asked, his tone pained.
“Your arm, of course,” Tony whirled as if Bucky was deliberately being obtuse.
“Why else would I need to harness bioelectrical energy?”
“My arm? I thought I told you I didn’t want an arm?” Bucky quirked a brow,
looking mildly interested.
“Of course you didn’t want an arm, Bucky. You didn’t need it then.” Tony
grinned. “But, I look to the future, something most people, even as long-lived
as you lot, seem to neglect. And I’m thinking you really want a second limb
right now.”
Bucky licked his lips and then met Tony’s eyes, “it . . . would be nice . . .”
“Of course it would,” Tony agreed and whipped the cloth back to reveal a
perfectly proportionate arm of silver and brass, embossed with beautiful
patterning. It appeared solid, not like the sheath Bucky had been provided by
Hydra after Natasha’s attack so many months ago. The end had rods and wires
sticking out, where the shoulder would join, and a metallic ball seemed poised
there as if ready to fit into his socket.
Bucky stepped closer, eyeing the metal limb warily, “this would attach directly
to my shoulder? How?”
“Yep,” Tony grinned widely. “We have to open your shoulder, nerves, muscles,
tendons, everything, so that they can merge with the artificial limb while
healing. It’ll hurt as bad as I imagine your guts do, but it should work
beautifully. Rhodey and I have been working on the fine tuning and, hooked up
to a power supply, it runs very well. You need to keep it oiled and maintained,
but it’ll be a great replacement. And with your energy, and your healing, it
should fuse nicely with your current biological systems.”
“But . . . how does it move? How would my nerves and muscles connect to the
artificial ones?” Bucky’s fingers ghosted over the cool metal, pale eyes taking
in everything about the limb.
“Your body should instinctively mesh with it, or reject it out of hand causing
pain and maybe even rotting, but the nerves would work like your right arm’s
nerves. Your brain would send electrical impulses into your body and those
nerves impulses would cause your muscles to contract, as well as the electrical
wired false muscles I've constructed inside. You’d have metal bones and skin
and a rubber laced with wires for muscles and tendons and ligaments. It’s
brilliant! Even have rubber cushioning the joints, much more sensible than your
current biological set up.”
“Is it ready?” Bucky asked softly, eyes not lifting from the arm on the table.
“Perfectly,” Tony grinned again and stroked the arm much like a man might
caress his pup. “Ready for surgery.”
Bucky bit his bottom lip and nodded, “okay . . . I just need to talk to Steve .
. .”
Tony nodded, as if he understood, and then spoiled his humane gesture by
revealing why he understood. “Pepper said as much. I guess it won’t hurt.”
The Omega looked at Tony and gave the human a small smile, “thank you, Tony.”
With a wave of his hand, Tony said, “Well, I also created some silver vaults
for WInnie and well, whoever, but I guess it’s for Pietro now. Should keep
vampir and stuff out this time.”
With a tight smile, Bucky nodded his thanks again, “we should get down to the
drawing room . . . another family meeting.”
The inventor sighed, “Yeah, Captain Rogers is really into those.” Tony covered
the arm lovingly and headed for the door.
With another nod, Bucky limped slightly behind Tony; the stairs caused a shot
of pain to run up his spine with every step. The Omega stopped at the foot of
the stairs for a few moments, hand gripping the railing as he caught his breath
before continuing on his way into the drawing room.
Everyone except the Maximoff-Romanov twins was present, for obvious reasons.
The group seemed to be silently waiting their last two housemates. As Tony made
his way to his wife’s side, settling in a chair and taking her hand absently,
one of the few people he could touch, Steve offered Bucky a searching look.
Limping to his spot next to Steve, Bucky gave him a pained smiled, tell you
later, he supplied as he sat down in the chair with a slight wince and hiss.
Alright, my love, the tall, muscular blond replied. He passed over Ava for
Bucky to hold; even the pups were included in this meeting, as Steve had said
earlier. The Alpha leader turned to his eclectic group. “We are going to be
moving the house, sans the name of Rogers, to Maine, off the Canadian border.
If anyone wishes to stay behind, you will still be welcome to come after. We
plan to leave within the week, sooner if we can,” Steve placed a hand on
Bucky’s right shoulder. “One thing we need to decide on, however, is what name
to give ourselves since whoever comes will no longer be a part of their old
clans and families.”
“Another,” Stephen’s tired voice came from the chair he slumped in, “would be
who is clan leader?”
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his short curls, “honestly . . . why do we
need a completely separate clan name? It’s not like the council will ever
accept it . . .”
Steve looked thoughtful. He nodded. “Very true. If anyone wants to change your
names, this would be the time to do it. If you don’t, you can keep your names?
Is that more reasonable?”
“But switching to the same name would show unity, even to outsiders, and
especially among us,” Peter said softly. “It claims we’re a family.”
“We are a strange group, aren’t we?” Bucky laughed softly, wincing when the
expression jarred his sore middle.
“Yes, and I am proud to be strange,” Riley murmured.
“How about Strange? The Strange clan?” Bucky shot his Alpha a small smirk.
Clint laughed, “yeah. I like it. Clinton Strange has a certain ring to it.”
Steve nodded. “Steven and Stephen . . . I think from here on out I will drop
the ‘n’ from my first name to differentiate.”
“Good,” Stephen said. “Now more importantly, who is our clan leader?”
Holding Ava close, Bucky looked over at Steve.
“Steve gathered us together, nurtured and protected us, supported us, and has
offered us an alternative to being part of this hell we find ourselves in,”
Riley said softly, though his voice sounded firm. “I say, Steve should be the
leader, still, as he has ever been.”
The much elder Stephen waved a hand as if he didn’t particularly want to
challenge the recommendation.
Bucky smiled softly and looked down at the pup in his arm; he rocked her gently
as he listened to the conversation around him.
Flushing slightly, Steve said, “any opposed?”
After a few moments of silence, Natasha looked at Steve with a pleased smirk.
Clint raised his hand.
Looking to Clint with a quirked brow, her emerald eyes studying her Omega, she
asked, “and why do you oppose Steve being clan leader?”
“Oh,” Clint shook his head. “I don’t oppose Steve as leader. Just wondered if
we get snacks with this meeting?”
Bucky snorted and shook his head, though his smile brightened. Told ya that
these meetings were boring . . . now you hafta bribe members with snacks,
Stevie.
Steve dropped his face into his hands with a snort of laughter he couldn’t
hide. Do you really think I want to feed Clint? Let Nat keep him under control.
Steve chuckled out loud. “If you want to feed, Clint, you may arrange that with
your sire. We have a name and a leader. We will be moving within the week. All
that I see left is how to move our belongings, what to take, how to extract
ourselves from any current clan responsibilities, and . . . finding out if
Wanda will come with us.”
“Only,” Tony snorted at the vast amount of work to do to prepare the household,
and belongings, for moving.
Riley sighed. “If we’re moving so far away, I would like to try to recover my
books from Philadelphia. I understand that no one has entered the house since
the massacre and my rescue? Perhaps human vandals . .. or others . . . have
left my possessions alone. It’s a half-millennia worth of collecting
knowledge.” The blond glanced at his dark-skinned lover.
“I will stop with you,” Sam nodded in confirmation.
“I think we can arrange packing crates and aid to move your possessions, Riley.
We should have retrieved them months ago for you,” Steve said, frowning softly.
Clint rose and began circling the room, carrying Daniel with him.
People are gettin’ restless, Steve, Bucky said, watching the stocky blond.
No, Clint is getting restless, Bucky. He’s full of enough energy for three half
grown pups. The blond looked up. “I suppose anyone who needs to arrange outside
affairs should do so shortly. There is no doubt that, even with the council’s
swift execution of the four survivors they found, we will wind up blamed
somehow. I’ll arrange to have this house packed and ready to ship.”
“Where to?” Stephen asked, sounding bored. “Do we have a residence to go to?”
“Yes,” Steve almost smirked at the surprised look on the older vampyre’s face.
“Sam offered a place some time ago. I assume it is still available?” He turned
to Sam.
“It is a large rural property up in New England,” Sam nodded and confirmed, “it
is ready for us. There is plenty of room . . . I dare say that it is bigger
than this mansion.”
“A farm?” Clint asked from by the doorway as he crossed past it.
Clint’s constant movement made Bucky tired just watching, so he turned to look
at Sam.
“Yes,” Sam nodded, “and it is deep in the countryside. There will be plenty of
wildlife for Peter and Wade to feed.”
“But not on the farm animals, right?” Clint turned and stopped, right in front
of Sam, putting his son up to his shoulder to soothingly rub the pup’s back.
Wade snorted and rolled his eyes, “we do have some control, ya know?”
“It’s not your control I question but our limits,” Clint answered with a smile.
“I mean, we’ll have to take care of those animals, if they even exist, right?
We don’t need farm animals to live, except the humans and maybe you guys. Or
are we a defunct farm? What about neighbors?” And thus Clint revealed something
he hadn't done before. If he stopped moving his body, his mind apparently
wouldn’t shut up.
“No neighbors for miles, and the farm hasn’t been used in years, so I’m afraid
there are no farm animals,” Sam answered with a smile.
Nodding in acceptance, Clint began his customary circling once more.
Steve looked over the room and noded. “Unless anyone has anything else, we can
go about our business?”
After a few moments, no one came up with any other questions. Bucky watched as
the others began to file out of the room after Steve had dismissed the meeting.
The Omega tried to rise but found the pain in his abdomen too great.
Steve touched his shoulder. “Buck?” he asked softly, slipping Ava from the
brunet’s arm.
With a nod, Bucky used the table to help him push to his feet; he wobbled
slightly before regaining his composure. He offered his arm back to Steve to
take Ava.
Without question, his mate handed over the pup. “So, what did Tony want to
harass you about?”
“He made me an arm, Steve,” Bucky answered softly, looking at his mate.
With a puzzled frown, Steve glanced at Bucky out of the side of his eye. “I
thought you told him you didn’t want one?”
“I didn’t . . . but . . . without it - - I’m at a disadvantage. I can’t protect
myself or my family,” Bucky answered on a sigh, “he’d have to cut open my left
shoulder . . . hook up all these wires and stuff to my existing nerves and
muscles.”
“Sounds like Shelly’s Frankenstein,” Steve growled low. “And what makes him
think his butchery will work on you?”
Bucky flinched; he knew Steve hadn’t meant to imply that Bucky was the monster,
but the statement hurt all the same. “He seems really convinced that it’ll
work, Steve. That he can connect it to my nervous system and that I’ll have a
functioning arm again. Said the first little bit might be painful but . . .”
Bucky shrugged.
Steve sighed. He drew several deep breaths, letting them out slowly, trying to
regain control of his worries and fear. Finally, he softly said, “it’s your
choice, Bucky, but I want to be there to help heal you.”
“If you don’t want me to do it . . . I won’t, Stevie. You’re my mate . . . your
opinion matters to me,” Bucky said, looking at his mate intensely.
“I love you as you are, Bucky, but if you’re not happy, I want whatever will
make you happy. I just think Tony’s going to hurt you. I don’t like you
hurting.” He hugged Summer to him carefully as she squirmed with energy.
“It will hurt, Steve . . . he said there is a chance my body will reject it
outright and cause infection,” Bucky didn’t see the point of hiding anything
from Steve, “that it’ll take some time for my body to heal around it . . . but
- -” Bucky sighed.
“And take some time for your body to learn to use it, if it does work and heal
properly,” Steve added, frowning. “I’d feel better for your safety if Tony had
done this before.”
Bucky nodded and he chewed his bottom lip, “this is a chance for me to be whole
again Steve . . . I know what I said . . . and - - part of me still wants to
leave it the way it is . . . but I need to be able to protect myself . . .
protect you and Summer, Ava, and Winnie. I almost died yesterday . . .”
“It’s not the first time,” Steve sighed. He stepped over and encircled Bucky in
his free arm, pulling him close. Nuzzling his mate’s neck, scenting his beloved
Omega, Steve nodded. “Okay, Bucky. I’ll support and help you in this. I want
you to be happy. And, maybe, when everything is over you can hold both our pups
while I draw the three of you.”
The Omega smiled and leaned forward to kiss Steve’s lips, “I wanna wait until
after we move . . . give myself and everyone else time to heal.”
“Agreed. That way you’re safe while you heal.” Steve smiled back, still
worried, but definitely feeling a little better about this terrifyingly unique
procedure.
Bucky nodded and then slipped out of Steve’s arms to limp out of the drawing
room and head back up the stairs so they could begin getting their things
packed and ready for the move. The Omega had to take each step one at a time,
his energy having already been depleted and the pain from his severe wound
aching with each step.
Frowning, the larger man followed his mate up the stairs, wanting to just carry
Bucky but hesitating to make him feel more helpless than he already did.
Finally, at their slow pace, Steve followed Bucky into the bedroom. “Buck? Need
to feed, baby?”
“Why is it still hurting? Shouldn’t I be healed?” Bucky all but whined as he
set Ava in the crib; he turned to look at his mate with agonized eyes.
Shaking his head, frowning behind his beard, the blond walked over and lay
Summer in the same crib. “I don’t know, but you were pretty seriously injured.
Maybe such a bad wound takes a while?” He reached out and stroked Bucky’s cheek
with a large, calloused hand. Quirking a smile suddenly, Steve asked, “why is
it that no matter what we go through, you always manage to stay perfectly
shaved? I blink and I look like a bear just coming out of hibernation.”
Bucky laughed softly, holding his middle as he leaned into Steve’s touch, “I
don’t know? Never been able to grow a beard, really.”
Touching his forehead to Bucky’s Steve sighed. “Maybe it’s a mature Omega
thing? Riley’s always clean shaven, too.”
The Omega sighed and nodded; he pulled away from Steve and headed towards the
large dresser to begin packing.
“Or maybe not,” Steve watched with worried eyes. “Clint looks like a drunken
bum most of the time, and that includes the scruff he’s always sporting.” The
blond ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and making it stand on end.
“Wanna feed before we get to work, baby doll?”
“That’s all it’ll ever be now . . .” Bucky muttered softly, his eyes downcast
as he looked through the drawer he’d opened.
Wincing, Steve rubbed at his own neck. “Most vampyres don’t even have one pup,
Bucky. It’s rare to get pregnant.”
Bucky nodded and then started to pull out some of the items, laying them on the
table that was next to him. Most of the possessions were Steve’s; Bucky only
had a few things from his past life: his family picture and the quilt that his
mother had made for him.
Finally, Steve walked out of the room without another word, his footsteps
almost unheard due to his normal stealthy nature.
The Omega immediately noticed his mate’s departure but didn’t move from his
spot; he continued to pull out various items, some blankets and clothes of
Steve’s. The brunet folded them in a neat pile, separating each item in groups.
After some minutes Steve returned carrying a series of wooden packing crates,
some inside the others. He began putting them around the room so they could
fill up the crates. He worked without words, his worry evident over their bond
along with his love for his Omega.
Finally, after they’d managed to pack several crates, the Omega grew too tired
to continue; he limped over to the bed and sank on the edge. He looked over at
Steve, “Just . . . gimme a moment. Just need to catch my breath . . .” Bucky
laid down, his legs still hanging over the edge.
Straightening, Steve frowned. “You need feeding, Bucky. Do you plan to starve
yourself to death? Let them beat you?” He walked over and began stripping down
as he walked, letting the clothing drop as he made his way to the bed. “Please,
let me care for you . . . don’t shut me out, Buck. I love you.”
Bucky swallowed and nodded; he turned his head to look over at Steve and gave
the blond a wavery smile, “I don’t mean to . . . really . . . I’m sorry.” The
brunet tried to sit up but hissed as pain rushed through his core and
immediately stopped the attempt.
Stopping in front of his mate, Steve leaned over and began undressing him
quickly, not making the brunet sit up. The blond maneuvered Bucky’s limbs for
him and finally they were both naked. Slipping onto the bed, Steve cupped
Bucky’s face and kissed him soundly, a longing in the action. When he broke the
contact, Steve breathed, “I never cared if you had pups, baby, I love you. I’m
glad you’re alive. The pups we have now are priceless.” He kissed Bucky again.
“She did it because we stole from her . . . do you think she meant Summer?”
Bucky asked softly, looking up at his mate.
“Yes,” Steve answered honestly, voice soft yet firm. “I see it as this: would
you rather give up Summer to get your womb back?” Steve met Bucky’s eyes.
“No,” Bucky replied immediately with a small shake of his head.
“Then, in the long run, was Summer worth it?” Steve kissed Bucky gently.
Bucky nodded and kissed back, he pushed up against Steve, as far as his aching
body would let him.
Sliding carefully into his mate, Steve breathed out, “then we keep her safe and
help her grow strong and powerful. Summer and Ava will carry on our family, and
we’ll never let either of them feel guilty for the sacrifices we make as
parents.” He kissed Bucky’s mate mark. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are,
my precious Omega? The love of my life?”
The Omega’s cheeks flushed and he gave Steve a bashful smile, “I don’t know,
Alpha . . . I can’t recall?” Bucky’s eyes glinted with mischief with contrasted
with his smile.
Stroking in and out, thrusting deep with every entry, Steve lifted his face and
grinned at Bucky. “Then I will have to keep telling you until you get over this
amnesia, my lovely, precious, wonderful Omega. The only mate I ever want. My
heart.”
                                  **********
The next week went by in a flash; the whole house packed their valuables and
prepared for the upcoming move. The Council had been concerningly silent, not
even bothering to send someone to scan each house member about the attack.
Stephen had woken both Wanda and Vision; the Maximoff youth hardly left her
room, mourning the loss of her twin brother for the second time in her life.
Finally, exactly a week later, the entire mansion was bare aside from some
furniture and other items deemed unimportant. Riley and Sam had salvaged what
they could from the Philadelphia Wilson house and shipped what they’d
retrieved. The crates full of everyone’s personal belongings had been taken the
day before and shipped to meet them up in Maine at the farmhouse. Winnie had
been removed from her resting place at the latest possible moment. Now the
entire household stood in the foyer. Bucky held Summer, rocking her gently as
he looked to Steve and then back at everyone else. His wound had healed;
however, he still felt twinges of pain throughout the day from deep inside,
where his womb used to be - - but it was bearable.
“The rest of the furniture will be shipped up today,” Steve finished saying,
offering a smile to his new clan, his family. “The sun has just set so we have
hours to get north. I’ve arranged carriages, closed and fast, disguised as
hearses so the humans will avoid us in their superstitious fear.”
The blond held Winnie’s vault, his younger pup, Ava, in Sharon’s arms. He
didn’t meet Stephen’s eyes; the older vampyre had Pietro, wrapped in his shroud
and preserved for his rest. Vision, the six foot four inch fledgling, had a
strong arm around his sire, more like the mature vampyre in the pair. Peggy had
switched to surrogate that pair since Wanda had such drastic need of the
British vampyre’s special training.
“Has everyone verified that they left nothing behind?” Steve asked at last.
Bucky looked around, waiting for everyone to confirm, because Steve had
reminded everyone about four times to check their rooms to make sure nothing
had been left behind.
Finally, at the confirmations from the group, Steve led them out of the house
that had been in the Rogers clan since the settling of the United States of
America. Like everyone else in the blended family, Steve was turning his back
on the past in favor of this new future. The Alpha carefully balanced his
precious burden to open the first carriage door, turning to Bucky with a smile.
The Omega gave his mate a reassuring smile and nod before ducking inside the
carriage, cradling Summer close as he moved to the furthest seat from the door,
making it easier for loading the other passengers.
Steve allowed Sharon and Johnny to climb inside before checking to see that the
other small groups were mounting the other carriages, four adults to a vehicle
with whatever pups they claimed. After Riley, the last person to mount a
carriage, settled inside next to Sam and across from Becca and T’Challa, Steve
nodded and turned to the lead driver. “Thank you. As quick as possible, but
safely, please. We have several days journey to make.” He slid into the
carriage as the human nodded in puzzle confusion and whipped up the horses for
this odd procession.
Steve looked at Bucky beside him. “How are you on long trips?” He asked, a bit
late now but apparently trying to make small talk to pass the time. He sounded
nervous, like he was the one with trouble in a closed carriage for long times.
“Oh, Alpha, I am bored already,” Bucky feigned a dramatic sigh and flopped his
head on Steve’s shoulder, “are we there yet?”
Chuckling appreciatively, Steve let his head fall against Bucky’s. “Not far
now,” he intoned in the age-old placation parents used on children during long
travel. “We could play travel games if you wanted to?”
“Like what? Never really been on long trips . . . never really been outta New
York, actually,” Bucky supplied; he settled Summer on his knee and bounced the
pup playfully.
“Well, we can play Twenty Questions or I Spy or The Minister’s Cat, though that
one is rather dull with only four people since it ends before we get to ‘E’.”
Steve turned his head to kiss his mate’s head. “Or we can point out things we
like as we pass them?”
Smirking, Bucky squinted to look out the window, “Oh! Look a tree! There’s
another one! Oh!”
Steve looked out his own window and claimed, “my God, we’re surrounded! Another
tree!”
Sharon snickered.
“Whatever shall we do, Alpha? Brave leader, is all hope lost?” Bucky looked up
at Steve, his pale eyes dancing with playfulness.
“Well,” Steve lowered his voice to a cautious sounding whisper, “if we don’t
make any sudden moves or loud noises, the squirrels might not notice our
passage . . .”
Bucky looked down at Summer, who chuckled merrily, and quirked a brow, “ya hear
that young lady? No loud noises.” The Omega continued to bounce the pup on his
knee, his hand wrapped gently around her to keep her from falling.
Johnny softly said, “we’ll be stuck in this carriage for at least four days, so
let’s not run through all our games too quickly.” It was still surprising that
outstanding clan members such as Peggy and Johnny had agreed to leave their old
affiliations behind for this new rogue clan.
“Four days?” Bucky gasped and let his head fall back on Steve’s shoulder in the
same over-dramatic fashion, “that’s so long!”
Steve laughed softly. “Feedings will have to be worked around, too,” the blond
kissed Bucky again. “Thankfully there are stops along the way to change the
horses.”
We haven’t fed in a stable before, Alpha, Bucky purred seductively.
Or a moving carriage, Steve shot back on a laugh.
Oh, how you spoil me, Alpha, two such different places . . . this may be a fun
trip, yet, Bucky leaned over to graze his fangs lightly against the blond’s
neck.
Johnny cleared his throat, as if he knew where this might be heading. “Before
any feeding happens, might I switch carriages with a non-family member,
please?”
“That might be wise,” Sharon nodded her agreement, a light blush on her cheeks,
as she ducked her eyes from the sight of her sire and dam.
Steve looked over. “So, if we get Riley and Sam, for instance, to trade, you’ll
take the pups for us?” He was too interested in the love-play to really worry
about his older pups’ embarrassment.
“Definitely,” Johnny agreed.
Oh, maybe we can get Sam and Riley to play with us, Bucky supplied on a lustful
purr.
Steve flushed and nodded, We can at least ask. Sam is a bit stuffy, but Riley
seems up for playing if we can pull him out of his shell.
Next stop, we switch, Bucky nodded and nipped at Steve’s earlobe, playfully
tugging before pulling away and focusing back on the pup on his knee.
Summer raised her arms to her dam and chuckled. “Da . . . da . . .” she cooed,
apparently quite satisfied with her version of the word.
Bucky beamed at the pup and nodded, “good girl, Summer.”
Johnny softly asked, “it will be the holidays shortly after we arrive. Do we
plan to celebrate these rituals? The exchanging of gifts? The large party?
Perhaps a scavenger hunt for the fledglings and youths?”
Bucky looked over at Steve, his eyebrows raised in surprise, “we celebrate
Christmas?”
Chuckling, Steve answered, “Winter solstice and other such more . . . pagan . .
. rituals? We use the celebrations as a way to break the mid-winter doldrums
from being confined and cold.” Kissing Bucky, Steve asked, “did you want a gift
exchange? Perhaps giving small trinkets and candies and fruit to the pups? They
can at least suck on the flavors even if they cannot digest them so shouldn’t
swallow.”
“I haven’t celebrated Christmas . . . or any holidays since my parents - -”
Bucky pressed his lips together, “well, it’s not like Hydra decorated a tree
and sang carols around a fire.”
“Perhaps you and Becca would like some small gifts, as well, to recapture the
joy of such a holiday?” Steve offered. “And we don’t often sing songs unless
you wish it, though it sounds fun. We often tell stories and even have a grand
party in which we dress in costumes.”
“I think a blending of everyone's separate traditions would be a good start to
the first of our new family’s traditions,” Johnny smiled at Bucky.
Bucky gave Johnny a smile and nodded, “I think that’s a great idea.”
Steve nodded in agreement. “This season will be exciting, learning from each
other and blending our fun events. I think the whole year promises to be
exciting and fun.” He hugged Bucky carefully, since his one arm still cradled
Winnie.
The Omega hummed in agreement and leaned in against his mate’s firm side.
Several hours later and the first night was half over. The carriage pulled into
an inn to change horses and allow the group to stretch their legs and talk to
others in their party. The humans who ran the inn had been forewarned that it
was a funeral procession trying to make their way north, so the innkeeper and
his staff were very polite and gracious without prying.
Steve eased Winnie’s small vault into Sam’s carriage with a smile for his old
friend. “Bucky and I wanted to ask you guys something.”
Bucky bounded over, a smile on his face; Johnny had already taken Summer, and
the lean Omega looked up at Steve, his eyes gleaming with excitement, “you ask
‘em yet?”
“No,” Steve flushed and smiled.
Riley looked at Bucky and quirked a quick faint smile, patting his pup’s tummy.
“What do you want, Mischief?” he asked his friend.
“We wanna play,” Bucky shot his friend a grin, his playful attitude evident;
even his scent reflected his emotions.
“Johnny and Sharon have offered to switch into your carriage here, and take
your pup, sitting with Wade and Peter and their pup, if you want to switch into
our’s?” The blond met his friend's eyes, though the flush was high and his
Alpha scent held a trace of playful interest.
“You want a play date?” Sam asked on a low chuckle, he looked over to Riley
with a smirk, “what do you think, Riley? You wanna play with Bucky and Steve?”
“Yes,” Riley answered bluntly and turned to hand his pup to Wade. “You’re
watching my son.”
Wade took the pup with a surprised look, “okay . . .” the vampire turned to try
and find Peter, “baby boy! We got another pup!”
“Several,” Peter said from around the side of the carriage. “Johnny and Sharon
are bringing in Steve and Bucky’s pups, too?”
“We shall be overrun with pups! They will take over!” Wade exclaimed, a bright
smile on his face as he cradled Nathaniel.
“Well,” Peter flushed. “We can keep them occupied, unless you wanna fob all the
pups off on Nat. She’s got the triplets, after all,” he joked, eyeing the
devastatingly sexy redhead and her blond fledgling.
Bucky practically vibrated with excitement next to Steve, he looked up at his
mate, “c’mon . . . I wanna play.” The Omega truly showed his young age in thats
moment, as many forgot that Bucky was still a young fledgling.
Steve chuckled and looked at the other two, very mature, vampyres. “Well, can a
guy deny such a beautiful mate?” He shrugged and took Bucky’s hand, leading him
towards their carriage.
Riley watched, amusement in his eyes even as he continued to smile softly.
“This will be a very interesting ride, Sam. Do you think we’ll spook the
horses?”
Sam laughed and wrapped his arm around his mate, “oh, I plan on it. We have to
show that fledgling how things are done. It is our duty to teach him, is it
not?”
“Oh?” Riley leaned into Sam. “I was planning on corrupting him, but if you only
want to teach him . . .” The quiet blond offered a smirk to his mate.
“Oh . . . no . . . corrupting is great . . . beautiful even,” Sam’s eyes
darkened with lust as he began to lead Riley towards the carriage that Bucky
and Steve entered.
As the procession got back on the road, Riley looked over at the pair across
from him and Sam. Without a word of encouragement, the shorter blond of the
foursome began to strip his clothing off, eyes trained on Bucky the entire
time. Once his shirt and trousers were open, though still on, the older vampyre
leaned over and cupped Bucky’s face. He offered a soft smile before sealing his
mouth over the brunet’s in a deep kiss, tongue tracing the other Omega’s lips.
Bucky keened and opened his mouth, allowing Riley’s tongue entrance as his own
began to explore his friend’s mouth. The brunet trailed his hand down Riley’s
torso and his fingers danced over the plains and valleys of the blond’s fit
abdomen. The younger Omega’s eyes slipped shut as he deepened the kiss with a
low groan.
Steve reached around, not interrupting the pair, and carefully unfastened
Bucky’s shirt and trousers for him, but left the clothing alone after that. He
then turned to Sam and slid over next to his friend. “Ever want to have sex
with another Alpha, Sam?” he purred low, unfastening his own shirt.
Sam tore his eyes away from the two Omegas and looked at Steve with lust in his
eyes. The dark-skinned Alpha licked his lips and leaned over to nip and lick at
Steve’s neck, “what about you, Steve?” he moaned against the skin, his hands
working to unbutton his shirt and then trousers, “ever wanna sleep with another
Alpha?”
Steve’s hands moved down to unfasten his own trousers as he kissed Sam back,
nipping the dark-sinned man’s lips. “Hell yeah. Wanted to try you out for some
time, Sammy,” he groaned.
Echoing Steve’s groan, Sam moved his hand to cup the large blond’s erection,
hand expertly wrapping and tugging on the Alpha’s base, “fuck . . . you’re
huge, Steve . . .” Sam breathed against Steve’s lips.
Groaning as his friend weighed his massive tool, Steve nodded, “yeah, sorry
‘bout that . . .” He reached into Sam’s trousers, feeling the other man’s
member and slipping the tips of his fingers down to caress over the heavy sac
he found. “Maybe easier without the clothes, huh?”
Sam simply nodded and pulled his hand off of Steve’s member to ease off the
rest of his clothing; he turned to look back at the Omegas, “our mates seem
overly dressed as well.”
With a low chuckle, Steve reached over and pulled Riley off Bucky then began
undressing the smaller blond. Riley groaned and leaned back into Steve, hips
shifting as if every touch turned him on. He cracked open his eyes to look
directly as Sam as this other Alpha undressed and caressed the brunet Omega.
Sam met Riley’s eyes as he slipped behind Bucky and, with surprisingly gentle
hands, slipped the opened shirt off the brunet’s shoulders. The Omega keened
and arched his back as Sam’s fingers ghosted over his spine before slipping
under the hem of his trousers to pull Bucky’s pants and underwear down his long
legs.
Writhing in Steve’s lap, Riley reached backwards to fumble Steve’s trousers
down his hips, rather acrobatic for an older vampyre. Steve accommodated the
smaller man by lifting his hips to allow Riley to push down his pants. Soon,
the larger blond stopped fondling the smaller and tugged off his shirt. He met
Bucky’s eyes, his eyes lust dark, and said, “how you doing, my pretty Omega,
Bucky? Want Sam inside your needy hole?”
Bucky nodded wildly and keened, “yes, Alpha . . . I want Sam . . .” the Omega’s
breath hitched as Sam’s fingers slid over his slickened entrance.
“Christ, Steve . . . he makes such pretty noises,” Sam growled and pressed his
thumb into the Omega’s hole, making Bucky groan obscenely and push back against
the digit.
Watching their mates playing together, Riley and Steve turned their heads
simultaneously and met in a hot kiss. Steve copied Sam, caressing and delving
into Riley’s already slick entrance. Slowly, he replaced his finger with the
tip of his member and settled Riley on top of it. The other blond’s eyes opened
wider than anyone had seen them before, his mouth forming an ’oh’ as he felt
that large head spreading him, on the verge of pain and pleasure. Riley keened
as Steve began working himself inside.
Sam’s hot breath brushed against the back of Bucky’s neck as the Alpha pulled
out his thumb, causing a small whimper from the Omega, before lining up and
pulling the lean brunet backwards to sit on his erection. Although Sam wasn’t
as large as Steve, the dark-skinned Alpha’s shaft curved slightly to brush the
tip against Bucky’s prostate in a way Steve’s never could. Sam’s hands gripped
Bucky’s hips and he began to push Bucky up only to pull the Omega back down,
eliciting a series of breathless little moans and keen from the brunet.
Several long minutes of working his new lover down onto his erection passed
before Steve managed to bottom out, Riley giving a little scream as their
bodies became flush. The Omega blond closed his eyes and panted, hands digging
into Steve’s thighs below him. Slowly gaining his equilibrium, Riley opened his
eyes and leaned forward, reaching out to tug Bucky at an angle, meeting his
friend’s mouth in a hot, sloppy crash of lips and tongues and teeth.
As he rode Sam’s member, Bucky gripped Riley’s hair, and his tongue slipped
against the blond’s, his teeth nipping and pulling at the older vampyre’s
bottom lip. The tall brunet keened and mewled into Riley’s mouth each and every
time Sam’s head slammed against his prostate.
Leaving one hand holding Bucky’s arm tightly, Riley reached down and wrapped
his fingers around the brunet’s erection, twisting as he caressed up towards
the tip to capture some precum and rub it over Bucky’s member. He traced his
thumb over the slit, dipping the tip of his nail inside then spreading
generously every drop of lubricant he found. Tilting his head to kiss Bucky
deeper, Riley began to stroke and twist Bucky’s shaft, slowly rising and
falling on the large tool inside him.
Bucky’s couldn’t concentrate on matching Sam’s pace any longer; he just let the
Alpha pound into him, each thrust slamming against his prostate. Riley’s hand
around his erection drove Bucky closer and closer to completion, his body
completely over-stimulated, and he loved every second of it. Stevie . . . fuck
. . . the Omega’s body tensed around Sam’s member as Riley’s hand tugged on his
member just right, causing Sam to groan and slam into Bucky harder and faster.
My Bucky, you are gorgeous being fucked! Steve moaned mentally as well as
verbally, letting out a low growl.
Riley suddenly let go off Bucky’s member and displayed his amazingly acrobatic
body once more by leaned over across the space between the carriage seats. He
lowered his mouth over Bucky’s cockhead, his tongue swirling, sucking at just
the tip, as Steve fucked into him harder and harder, the bouncing motion of the
carriage adding to the rhythm of their fucking.
When Riley’s mouth engulfed his tip, Bucky’s body went limp, his head falling
back onto Sam’s shoulder as his mouth fell open in a series of gasps and moans.
Go ahead, my lovely wanton Bucky, cum all over Sam and Riley. Show them how
much slick and cum you can produce, my hot Omega. Steve coaxed his mate.
Riley let out a muffled gasped at the new angle of Steve’s erection, his breath
coming in pants, keening around Bucky’s cockhead. He lost his own rhythm
suddenly, stuttering on Steve’s lap, eyes rolling up to watch Bucky from under
his blond lashes.
“Riley . . . gonna . . .” Bucky breathed out, his hand falling to rest on the
blond’s shoulder.
The blond nodded once and stroked down to Bucky’s balls, giving an appreciative
squeeze to the other Omega’s sac.
At the squeeze, the over stimulated Omega’s whole body seemed to clench as he
saw white and came in Riley’s mouth, his orgasm tightening his passage around
Sam who groaned loudly and thrust balls deep inside Bucky while releasing his
own large load, cum leaking around the dark-skinned Alpha’s member and down the
brunet’s thighs, mixing with the large amount of slick already running down
those quivering limbs.
The taste of the hot load in his mouth and throat seemed to tumble Riley over
the edge and he let out a loud raunchy moan, cumming hard, body almost
convulsing, impaled on Steve’s large member. The taller blond thrust once,
twice, a third time before he shouted his release, letting loose a deep, heavy
load of life-seed into his lover, eyes never leaving the wrecked, beautiful
sight of his mate. Steve wrapped his arms around Riley, catching the other,
smaller man as he seemed to go limp suddenly.
Bucky panted and sweat coated his entire body, making his short brown locks
plaster to his forehead as he continued to lean against Sam’s sturdy chest
while the Alpha rode out his orgasm, still thrusting slightly inside of the
full, cum-slicked passage.
Riley slowly lapped at Bucky’s member, cleaning him off as he remained impaled
on Steve and Sam remained fucking Bucky. Slowly, the smaller blond lifted his
head off with an obscene pop and grinned at Bucky, his eyes almost closed, his
fair skin flushed in pleasure. He felt over-full and almost hurt from the
stimulation and hot jets of cum painting him inside.
The younger Omega whimpered, his hips beginning to move once more with Sam’s
small thrusts. “Stevie . . .”
“Whatcha want, love?” Steve moaned softly, embedded balls deep in Riley’s tight
passage, feeling his knot threaten and trying to fight it. Desperation laced
the large blond’s tone.
“Still want you, Alpha . . .” Bucky groaned, his pale eyes falling to rest on
his mate as his body continued to move with Sam’s thrusting, making more slick
and cum run down his thighs.
God, Buck . . . I’m trying not to knot Riley. If I move, I might lose the
battle here . . . give me a moment, baby doll, Steve whispered in his mind,
letting out a soft keen.
Bucky only nodded and moaned when Sam’s fingers ran down his side, over his hip
bones.
Unaware of how close Steve was to the ultimate in mating, Riley shifted,
preparing to pull off his love. His eyes widened and he shouted in shock and
pain-pleasure as his movement threw Steve over the edge, causing the very large
Alpha to knot securely. Riley’s head fell back and his eyes rolled closed.
Steve groaned and keened, “shit . . .”
Sam looked over and frowned softly, stopping his thrusting inside of Bucky,
“Riley? You okay?”
“Sam?” Riley breathed softly, sounding as wrecked as he looked on Steve’s large
knot. He lifted his head slowly and met his mate’s eyes, glazed and blown
black.
The dark-skinned Alpha pulled out of Bucky, who whimpered at the loss, and set
the young brunet on the seat before kneeling in front of Riley, “Riley?” Sam
cupped his mate’s cheek.
“Hurts,” he breathed, staying still, locking eyes with Sam’s despite his rather
out-of-it state. “Did . . . not . . . know . . . heat . . .” he whimpered each
broken word.
“Shit . . .” Sam hissed and looked up at Steve, “you knotted him?”
Steve looked upset, holding Riley steady back against his large chest, meeting
Sam’s eyes. “I tried not to. I had no clue Riley was near heat, Sam! I wouldn’t
have invited you guys to play if I had known!” He tried to stay as still as
possible as his seed inevitably filled the womb of his best friend’s Omega
mate.
Sam nodded and looked back at Riley and cooed, “I know it hurts . . . take deep
breaths for me, baby, it’ll come down soon.”
Riley continued to keep his eyes on his own mate while another Alpha filled his
flushed, over sensitized body. He whimpered, knowing that it should be Sam
inside not this other man. Riley whimpered again, tears coming to his eyes. “So
. . . sorry . . . sorry . . .”
“Hey,” Sam said gently, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about. You didn’t
know . . . it’s okay.”
Bucky, baby? You with us? Steve asked.
Bucky’s link over the bond didn’t reply, his side just a faint buzz. The Omega
had curled up on the seats and fallen asleep, completely unaware of what was
happening around him.
Steve glanced over, only moving his eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief. One
less thing to address in this specific moment. Softly, he said, “Sam, reassure
Riley that you aren’t upset with him for mating with me . . . are you?”
“Of course I’m not upset,” Sam answered, his eyes focused on Riley, “I’m not
mad at you, my precious Omega, I could never be mad at you . . . you know that.
I love you, Riley.”
Riley didn’t move, but he breathed softly, “I love you, Alpha . . . Sam . . .”
he seemed to clarify which Alpha with the name.
Fortunately, the knot eased within fifteen minutes, a more brief time than when
Steve knotted Bucky. His member fell out, draggin slick and an overload of cum
with it, coating his lap and Riley’s thighs and ass. Riley sobbed once and
immediately fell against Sam, as if he couldn’t hold himself up any longer.
Fortunately, no blood mixed with the other fluids, meaning Riley had not torn
from the large knotting.
Sam immediately wrapped his arms around Riley and kissed his temple, murmuring
praises and love in the Omega’s ear.
Bucky blinked at the loud noise, sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He looked at
Riley and Sam; he titled his head in confusion before looking over at Steve.
What happened? the Omega asked.
Riley went into heat and I knotted him, Steve answered honestly. He looked as
miserable as Riley apparently felt about the problematic mating.
The brunet’s eyes widened and he looked back down at Riley, you . . . you
knotted him? Bucky looked back at Steve.
Yes, Steve answered, hesitating then reaching out to stroke Bucky’s hair.
Knotting is a sexual thing, Bucky, not a love thing. It is a reaction to a
ready Omega . . . he stopped talking, flushing.
The brunet Omega nodded and laid back down, his eyes troubled and focusing
intently on the embraced couple on the floor of the carriage.
I love you, Bucky, so much. Steve ventured, his tone worried but his love
certain.
Love you, too, Alpha, Bucky replied softly before he turned his back to the
rest of the occupants of the carriage and let his eyes slip shut again.
Steve stroked Bucky’s hair again before reaching into the hollow under the seat
to pull out water in a jug and cloths. He began wetting cloths and handed some
to Sam then shifted so he could pull Bucky over onto his lap and bath his mate.
Bucky laid over Steve’s lap, his pale eyes looking out the tinted windows;
nothing but darkness could be seen passing by them.
After making sure his mate was very clean, Steve maneuvered Bucky around
carefully so the blond could clean himself. Finally, he situated the brunet
sitting up on his lap, leaning back against the blond’s large chest. He wrapped
his arms around Bucky, kissing his mate mark gently.
Riley slowly pulled back from Sam, his eyes lowered, almost shut. He leaned
forward to butt his head very softly against Sam’s, softly saying, “I’ll pay
better attention, Sam.”
Shaking his head, Sam kissed Riley’s lips, “this wasn’t your fault, Riley, it
wasn’t anyone’s fault . . . it just . . . happened,” the Alpha cooed softly.
“If we play more, I wanna have sex with Bucky instead. Steve’s too big.” The
blond haired, blue eyed vampyre looked towards Bucky.
Bucky flushed and his eyes fell, “you still wanna play? I - - I understand if
you don’t . . .”
Turning around, away from his beloved mate, Riley knee walked over to his
friend and wrapped his arms around Bucky, ignoring the fact that the brunet was
ensconced on Steve’s lap and in his arms, too. Without saying anything, Riley
bent his head down to begin softly kissing and lapping at Bucky’s member and
sac.
The younger Omega gasped and his hand gripped Steve’s leg tightly, he forced
his hips to stay still under Riley’s tongue.
After a long time of gentle attention, Riley turned his head to lay it down in
Bucky’s lap, still embracing his friend. “Of course I wanna play with you. If
Sam’s okay with it, so am I, Bucky.” He didn’t lift his head but his eyes met
Bucky’s “I love you both, especially you, Bucky. If one of us had been an
Alpha, I might have had trouble realizing I’m true mates with my Sam.”
Bucky blinked slowly, letting Riley’s words sink in, “you love me?” The Omega
vampyre was so starved for love, his whole life having been nothing but
training exercises and brutal manipulation . . . he’d almost forgotten what it
felt like to love and be loved.
Honest as always, Riley answered, “not at first, though I couldn’t hate you for
your past. We can never choose our past, only our future. The past is done. But
slowly, I fell in love with you, Bucky.” He smiled softly at his friend. “Like
I said, if one of us was an Alpha, I think Steve and Sam would be hard pressed
to fight me for you. I’m glad we’re both Omegas. Then we don’t have to choose.
We can love both our Alphas and each other.” Slowly, Riley raised his head and
stroked Bucky’s cheek. “Something humans have trouble with, I imagine.”
Bucky leaned into the touch and smiled lovingly at Riley, “I love you, too,
Riley . . .”
Riley pulled himself up to meet Bucky in a gentle kiss.
A contented, happy scent wafted off the younger Omega as he met Riley’s lips,
his hand still gripping Steve’s leg.
Relief and happiness wafted from Steve, as well. Obviously he didn’t take
Riley’s love and advances as a threat. The big blond was glad Bucky felt so
loved and accepted. He loved Bucky being happy.
“I think regular play dates will be a must,” Sam said softly, looking at the
two Omegas with a fond smile; he, too, felt no anger at the proclamations of
love between Riley and Bucky. Riley had already privately explained his
feelings about Bucky to Sam.
***** Of Heats and Holidays *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
It had been two weeks since the large group had moved into their new house, a
sprawling farm spread rather than a stately mansion, but somehow it felt just
as much like home as the elegance they left behind. Steve seemed to throw
himself happily in helping make any repairs needed, making the home comfortable
for his large family.
The holidays were right around the corner, so to speak, and at the moment,
Steve stood on a step stool hanging woven evergreen branches along the ceiling
edges, letting the fresh scent of spruce, pine, and balsam fill the air with
their spicy scents. Unlike his city wear, Steve had dressed in dungaree work
pants that hugged his hips and a thick flannel shirt more common to the rugged
people of the northeast forest land they found themselves in.
Outside the night-dark window, snow drifted lazily to cover everything in a
winter blanket of white.
Bucky sat on the floor, his back pressed against the couch as he let Summer
crawl on the rugged portion of the floor. Damien sat in Becca’s lap, who also
sat on the floor facing her brother; the male pup clapped his hands and giggled
as he watched Summer crawl around. Becca let the pup go so Damien could join
his cousin.
Giggling, Summer stuck her butt in the air and rocked back and forth a few
times. Finally, she seemed to give a push as she rocked back and wound up
standing up. Laughing the little girl lost her balance and fell on her butt.
“Steve!” Bucky exclaimed happily, eyes not leaving his daughter, “she just
stood on her own!”
Turning, looking down from his perch, Steve let his eyebrows raise. “What?
Without a chair?”
“All on her own, Steve!” Bucky beamed and watched Summer begin to crawl merrily
again, “she’ll be running in no time!”
Steve let out a laugh, one hand coming up to cross over his chest as if he
found the joy hard to hold in. “We’ll have to pup proof higher up before that
happens, Buck!”
“You’ve already pup proofed every single corner in this entire house, Steve,”
Sam said as he walked through the main living room and into the open kitchen.
Proudly, even if he hadn’t seen it himself, Steve glanced at Sam. “Summer stood
on her own!”
Sam let out a low whistle, “clever girl, just like her dam, you are gonna have
a hard time with that one, Steve,” Sam laughed and smiled at his friend.
Riley walked in from an outdoor walk around, which he often did, as if he felt
he needed to check on their security. He offered a smile to those present, his
elusive smile so much more evident since that day in the carriage. Slowly, he
sank next to Bucky on the floor and leaned in close, cupping a hand around his
mouth and Bucky’s ear. He whispered, “I think I’m with pup, Bucky.”
Bucky froze, his smile fading from his face as he turned his head to look at
Riley, in a responding whisper he asked, “you sure?”
“No,” Riley kept the conversation whispered, ignoring Steve’s curious look.
“But I have a lot of the symptoms of early pregnancy.”
“It’s . . . it’s probably Sam’s right? I mean - - he’s knotted you since . . .”
Bucky let his voice trail off.
“My last heat was two weeks ago, Bucky. It could be either’s . . .” he frowned
softly.
The brunet nodded and offered his friend a small smile, “I am happy for you, I
am sure Nathaniel will be a great big brother.”
Sighing, Riley whispered, “if you hadn’t been hurt, you might now be pregnant
with Sam’s pup, Bucky, so please don’t pretend this pup isn’t as much a part of
your small family as mine.”
Bucky scooped up Summer and stood up, “excuse me, I think it’s time for her
nap,” the Omega hurried out of the room and up the stairs.
Riley hugged himself and let his head bow down, ignoring the worried frown
Steve sent the smaller blond.
“Riley?” Sam called, walking from the kitchen to where his mate sat, “what was
that?”
“I never wanted to hurt Bucky, Sammy. Should I have lied to him?” He didn’t
explain what he was trying to ask about, though. Bucky had been the only one
he’d told his suspicions to.
“You know how . . . emotional he can be, despite his greatest efforts to hide
it,” Sam sighed and squeezed Riley’s knee, “I am sure whatever it is . . .
he’ll get over it, he always does.”
“Maybe not this time,” Riley said, unusually morose. “Sam, I think he’s going
to be hurting over this for years to come.”
“Over what, baby?” Sam asked, frowning softly; he looked up at Steve and then
back to his mate.
“I . . .” Riley looked up finally, eyes washed with tears of pain and sorrow,
not bothering to whisper any more. “I think I’m with pup . . .”
Sam released a deep breath through his nose and nodded, he gave Riley’s knee
another reassuring squeeze.
Steve paled and stepped from the stool to run after his mate, belatedly.
“Bucky?” he breathed at the doorway to the grand room used as a mass nursery.
Bucky hummed that sweet lullaby, looking down at Summer and Ava in the crib,
his fingers brushing over both girl’s faces as he hummed the soft song to bring
the pups to sleep. Looking over at Steve, the Omega pressed his index finger to
his lips in a shushing gesture, though he kept up the tune of the lullaby.
Steve waited patiently, though seeming worried, as first Ava then Summer
drifted off in their naps.
Stepping out of the nursery, Bucky brushed past Steve and headed to their room.
Once inside, the Omega turned to look at his mate, “yes, Alpha?”
Steve, who had followed Bucky to their room, stepped inside. “You okay, baby?”
he asked as he walked over to the brunet.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Bucky asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked
up at his mate.
“Riley thought you might be upset,” Steve answered.
“I told him I was putting Summer down for a nap,” Bucky shrugged and he turned
to walk over to the window, he watched the fall of the snow with a soft smile.
“I think he felt you were upset because of his news.” Steve stepped behind his
lover and placed a hand on the small of Bucky’s back.
“What? You mean that him being pregnant? Isn’t it nice? Nathaniel will be a
good big brother . . . I can already tell,” Bucky didn’t take his eyes off the
falling snow.
“Yeah, he will,” Steve agreed. He didn’t push further, still worried about
Bucky’s reaction but letting it go. He doubted Bucky was really as calm as he
appeared. Slowly, Steve caressed his hand up Bucky’s spine and leaned over to
kiss the back of the brunet’s neck.
Bucky smiled and turned to look at Steve; he wrapped his arm around his mate’s
waist and said, “in just a few more weeks . . . I’ll be able to hold you with
two arms.”
A smile crossed Steve’s face and he nodded. “I’m counting down the days. I want
to see you get stronger everyday and then you can teach our pups to fight and
defend the clan.”
“Wouldn’t Natasha or T’Challa be a better teacher?” Bucky asked softly.
Snorting, Steve nuzzled Bucky’s neck. “Maybe they can teach the pups a thing or
two, but you know our greatest enemy inside and out, love. You can give our
pups an edge no other clan will have.”
Bucky hummed and smiled, he pressed his lips to Steve’s neck before pulling
away and heading towards the door again. He winced as a flash of pain flared
through his abdomen but the sensation quickly dissipated. The Omega shook
himself and turned to offer his mate a smile, “c’mon, Stevie . . . we still got
decorations to hang.”
With a smile and nod, Steve followed his mate from their room. He used the bond
to sense Bucky’s feelings, not hiding his check in so Bucky didn’t feel like
his mate was being sneaky. Finally, he said, I love you, my sweet Omega.
I love you, too, my Alpha, Bucky responded and walked down the steps, the Omega
had to take stairs slower than he used to since the injury, but he’d gotten
better overall. The brunet picked up the garland that Steve had dropped and
handed it to his mate.
Climbing back up onto the stepstool, the blond once more began hanging the
decorations, noting that Riley no longer sat in the middle of the floor; the
blond Omega wasn’t even in the room. “So, Buck, have you ever wondered about
holiday food? I was thinking we could toast bread over the fire and slather it
with butter or jam or marmalade. And we could pop corn. Ever wanted to eat
popped corn? Some people put salt or butter on that, too.”
“But we don’t eat, Steve,” Bucky said, handing another stream of garland to his
mate.
“We can put it in our mouths and taste, Bucky, and Tony and his humans eat.”
Steve finished hanging the garlands on that wall and climbed off his stool.
“Just because we can’t digest doesn’t mean we should give up the beauty of
taste!”
“We used to have popped corn around the holidays . . . Ma would string it up
and hang it on the tree,” Bucky smiled at Steve, “and she’d have to fight Papa
for every single kernel . . . he’d go behind her and eat it.” The brunet
laughed at the memory, “she’d have to pop a whole extra pan for him just so she
could string up enough!”
“Tell me more,” the voice wasn’t Steve’s but Becca’s. Her eyes lit in curiosity
for the times she didn’t recall with a family she barely knew.
Turning around, Bucky offered his baby sister a smile and nodded, “Papa would
put you on his shoulders and let you hang some of the higher ornaments on the
tree. Then . . .” Bucky blinked and looked like he struggled to recall the
specific memory he’d been thinking about, “and then . . . Ma - - she’d make
cookies, you sat in your high chair but she always had you in the kitchen when
she was cooking. She’d sing to you while she made supper.”
“Like you do with Summer and Ava? You sing to them while you’re doing things?”
Becca cuddled Damien, smiling happily.
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded with a smile.
“I’d love to learn that song you sing, Bucky. I want to sing it to Damien,
too,” his sister stood and carried her adopted pup over.
The brunet Omega nodded, he flushed as he began to sing; he’d never actually
sung in front of Steve . . . only hummed; his voice was soft, slightly higher
than one would expect, and the words of the lullaby echoed through the room:
“Golden slumbers kiss your eyes
Smiles await you when you rise.
Sleep, pretty baby, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.
Cares you know not, therefore sleep,”
Steve slipped his arms around Bucky from behind and dropped a kiss to the
brunet’s neck. “Beautiful, baby doll.”
Bucky smiled softly; his eyes had welled with tears and he looked up at Becca,
“she’d sing that to you every single night before bed until you fell asleep.”
“Bucky?” Becca kissed Damien, still watching Bucky, “did we have brothers or
sisters?”
“No,” Bucky shook his head, “at least . . .” the Omega furrowed his brows,
looking slightly confused, “I - - I don’t think so?” He looked up at Steve,
“I’d remember that right?”
Steve smiled encouragingly down over Bucky’s shoulder, dropping a kiss on his
neck. “You should remember if you had siblings, so I think you didn’t. I was an
only child when I was converted.”
“Did you celebrate Christmas as a human, Steve?” Bucky asked, looking over at
his mate.
The large blond looked thoughtful then slowly shook his head, “not exactly. We
went to mass all day and night and on the day of Christmas we would spend our
time in prayer. No gifts or decorations or anything like that.” He looked at
the pair. “My father was killed in a raid when I was little and I lived with my
mother on the edges of a Puritan village. She kept us immersed in worship,
afraid we’d be accused of witchcraft or something because she was an herbal
healer.”
“Oh,” Bucky looked at Becca and then back at Steve.
Gently, Steve said, “I was born on July fourth in the year fifteen seventy-
five.”
“Fifteen seventy-five . . .” Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened,
“you’re so old, Steve!”
Steve laughed. “Sam was a boy who lived down the road from us. He was born the
same year as I was,” the blond grinned. “But Natasha’s older than us, and so’s
Riley.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m a pup?” Bucky smiled and shook his head.
Kissing Bucky’s neck, Steve chuckled, “exactly what did you think I meant when
I tell you I’ll love you through life’s long line, Bucky? I was about twenty-
five when I was converted.”
“Same as me,” Bucky said, looking back at his mate, “I was twenty-five when . .
.” the vampyre waved his hand.
“When I converted you?” Steve offered.
“Yeah, that,” Bucky nodded and then stepped past Becca and Steve. The Omega
seemed to need to keep himself busy; he hopped from one task to the next, very
unlike his usual calm self. He walked into the kitchen and opened one of the
cupboards, “well, looky here . . . we actually have corn kernels.” He held up a
glass jar filled with kernels.
Steve nodded. He shrugged at Becca, who gave him a worried look, and went in
after Bucky, smiling at his lover. “So, you know how to pop it? We can wait and
do it as a big family or hog it all right now . . .”
Bucky shrugged and set the jar back down, “did you get the garland hung in the
dining room?” The Omega turned to walk out of the kitchen and into the separate
dining room, he looked around and saw that Steve had already finished the room.
He nodded in approval.
“Buck!” Steve finally called out, voice firm, worried.
At the tone, Bucky whirled around and looked at Steve, “what?”
“You’re pacing around like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,
what’s wrong, baby?” Steve frowned.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, Steve . . .” Bucky looked around before he focused on
a window again, the snow still steadily falling. The brunet tilted his head as
he watched the flakes pile on the windowsill. “I’m good, great . . . why would
you think something’s wrong?” The Omega walked over to the window and then
opened it, he dusted the piled snow off the ledge before shutting it again,
wiping his hand on his pants to wipe away the cold water.
“Because you won’t settle, you’re flitting, Bucky . . .” Watching his mate
carefully, Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. Bucky? Are you upset, Baby?
“Stop asking me if I’m upset!” Bucky snapped, he walked over to the front door
and slipped outside into the stormy weather.
Steve growled and followed the brunet into the snow. He kept the other man in
his sights, tracking him from a few steps, not hiding the fact that he
followed. I’d stop asking if you didn’t act like you were upset, Buck, then
next minute act as if you don’t even know what emotions are, then flit right
back to the other, odd behavior. I’m trying to understand you and what you
need.
Bucky walked in the snow, his shoulders hunched; he didn’t reply to his mate,
just kept walking.
Growling again, Steve picked up his pace. You’re acting like you’re in heat,
Bucky. You want me to take you in the snow and cool you the hell down?
Heat?! Are you fucking kidding me, Steve? I can’t fucking go into heat! I’m
fucking broken, remember? Bucky still didn’t stop; they were nearing the small
pond on the property, which had been completely covered in ice. The Omega
trailed the edge of the pond, his feet actually pressing on the iced surface.
I love you, Bucky, Steve shot back, still worried, still frustrated. He caught
up to the other man and grabbed his arm, whirling him around. Steve kissed
Bucky’s mouth, desperately.
Bucky growled, a low, needy noise as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Dropping Bucky’s arm, Steve fumbled his mate’s outfit open, running a large
hand into the burnet’s pants to stroke over Bucky’s member. “Gonna take you
right here in the snow, Omega,” the Alpha growled, unfastening his own trousers
with his other hand. “Gonna take you hard and fast, Omega . . .”
The brunet keened and he could already feel his slick running down his thighs.
His skin felt like it was burning and his veins rushed with need. “Yes, Alpha .
. . fuck me - - take me hard . . . please, Alpha?”
Steve pulled his pants down enough to pull free, his heavy sac draped over his
clothing, his erection thick and bobbing in desire. He managed to slide Bucky’s
pants down even further, exposing his lovely tight ass. Cupping those globes
hard and squeezing then pulling them apart, Steve nipped hard at Bucky’s mate
mark. He turned Bucky around to face a tree and lined up. “Mine! My needy,
sweet Omega!” Steve drove himself deep in that slick heat.
Bucky gripped the bark under his fingers tightly, actually digging his
fingertips into the trunk as his toes curled and he let out a loud moan.
“Your’s, Alpha. All your’s. Fuck me like I’m your’s . . .”
Growling and grunting with each deep, hard thrust, Steve bit down Bucky’s neck,
on the other side, refreshing that bite mark as well. He grabbed Bucky’s waist
and dragged him back as the blond thrust forward.
As Steve went almost painfully deep, deeper than he’d ever gone before, Bucky
howled and clenched around his lover, allowing himself to be manhandled and
pulled back like a ragdoll.
Without really thinking about the heavy drag in his gut, Steve pushed Bucky
right up against the tree, like their ancestors of old may have mated. The
large Alpha thrust his knot in, the big bulge of flesh forming quickly and
locking them before Steve could even drag back out, causing him to tug against
Bucky’s ring of muscle before he stopped, startled, and pushed back in, rocking
instead of thrusting.
Bucky yelped at the unexpected knotting, he continued to let Steve rock into
him, even though the rough bark dragged against his skin and the blond’s knot
sank painfully deep into his passage . . . Bucky felt bliss. Steve hadn’t been
able to knot at all since the injury to his womb that left him sterile . . .
yet, here they were.
Steve moved to bury his face in the back of Bucky’s neck, breathing deep of his
mate’s heat scent, the snow around them not even registering through the
Alpha’s lust-drenched mind and senses. He growled low, a partial groan, partial
pleased purr. “My Omega. Never anyone else’s. Only ever mine. My beautiful
Bucky.”
“Your’s, Stevie,” Bucky panted and mewled, pushing back against Steve, driving
the knot even deeper. Steve didn’t take him from behind very often, the Omega
could count on both hands the times they’d done this position . . . and it
usually was one of the best sessions. Bucky couldn’t believe that his slick
still pumped freely and his veins hadn’t settled. This was a full-on mating
heat, way more intense than a hunger heat.
It took a long time before Steve’s knot went down enough for him to purposely
drag himself from his mate’s hot passage, cum and slick draining down Bucky’s
legs and to the ground to mix with the snow. Steve picked Bucky up into strong
arms and sealed their mouths for an intense kiss. He held the brunet up against
the tree, back to the bark, and slid his semi-erect, semi-knotted member back
into his lover, beginning to stroke deeply once more.
Bucky groaned loudly, his hips meeting and grinding with Steve’s pace; his legs
were wrapped around his mate’s narrow waist and his hand tugged on the blond’s
hair. “Stevie . . . please . . .” the Omega keened.
“Please, what, Bucky,” Steve growled into the Omega’s mouth, pumping into his
mate and dragging his semi-knot out and pushing in. His massive tool dragged
over the brunet’s prostate with every stroke and he groaned low, his knot
swelling large once more, again preventing the blond from pulling out of the
brunet, locking them in place.
The Omega’s breath came out in little huffs, moans and keens, “fuck . . . claim
me, Steve - - Alpha . . . wanna feel your large knot splitting me open . . .”
“Having trouble feeling that?” Steve growled and pushed his energy knot into
the tip of his member, giving Bucky two knots, one extremely deep and the other
near the ring of muscle at his opening. “Like that, baby?” he growled.
Bucky’s mouth fell open and he nodded, legs wrapping tighter around Steve and
his fingers tugged on his mate’s short locks. “Yes, Alpha . . . just like that
. . .”
As his mate responded to the lust and erotic sensations, Steve nuzzled at
Bucky’s throat, enjoying the feel of once more knotting his beloved mate. It
had been some time; Bucky had been so injured Steve had been afraid to let
himself go, really. Now, he wondered why he’d even held back. This was not the
reactions of a man who hurt to have sex. Lapping and nipping at the hollow of
Bucky’s throat, Steve murmured, “my precious Bucky. My one true love.”
“My Alpha . . . my Stevie . . .” Bucky growled and leaned forward to nip and
bite at Steve’s neck, the tips of his fangs dragging sharply against the skin.
Finally lifting his face to study his lover, Steve said, “I was right. You
weren’t feeling well. You were in heat.” He smugly kissed the Omega, “but I’ve
got a way to fix that, my love.” He rocked a bit, his knots tugging.
The Omega groaned, his untouched erection leaked a steady stream of pre-cum,
and he ground down to create more friction.
“So, since you aren’t gonna get pregnant, my beautiful Omega, you’re heat might
last a very long time.” Steve moved one hand to finally encircle his lover’s
member, caressing precum over the tip and down the shaft.
Bucky whimpered and canted his hips, Steve’s knots pulling painfully at his
passage; the Omega felt overwhelmed. His face was flushed, despite the cold
weather, and his limbs had begun to tremble. The brunet let out a mewl and
dropped his head back against the tree.
“Cum for me, baby doll. Cover my hands with your life-seed,” Steve instructed,
feeling his knot begin to finally lessen and easing his energy knot at the same
time.
Gasping, Bucky’s back arched and he painted Steve’s hand with thick, hot ropes
of cum. His hips stuttered with the orgasm and the Omega keened loudly.
“Good boy, Bucky, such a good boy,” Steve praised, kissing his lover deeply.
Finally, he pulled from Bucky’s body, let his energy knot go in a surge of
feeding energy as an extra bonus for the exhausted Omega. Carefully, Steve
lowered Bucky to stand on his feet and rearranged his clothes, knowing they’d
have to wash up back at the house. Steve tucked himself away and fastened his
own pants, kissing Bucky every other breath.
Bucky’s legs wobbled and for once he actually felt a bit sore from their
lovemaking; the Omega tried to take a step but his knee gave out.
Steve caught Bucky and chuckled. “Want me to carry you, babe?”
“Well, I sure as hell ain’t walking,” Bucky shot back with a smirk.
Steve gave Bucky a sharp slap on the rear then scooped him up. “Attitude,
love,” he teased nipping his neck.
The Omega groaned at the slap, how the hell can I still be turned on? Bucky
leaned into Steve’s chest and curled up in his Alpha’s arms.
“Bed or bath when we get back?” Steve asked. He began walking back up to the
farmhouse, the still falling snow soon covering the signs of their intense
loving by the pond.
“I don’t know, Alpha, which one gets you fucking me again fastest?” Bucky
asked, looking up at Steve, his tone innocent despite the words.
Chuckling low, Steve nuzzled Bucky’s neck. “Wanna fuck in the bath?”
“We could fuck in the pantry for all I care,” Bucky stated.
“Oh? How about the front sitting room during a family meeting?” Steve teased.
A jolt of pleasure ran down Bucky’s spine from the thought, “mhmm . . . you
could bend me over the table and fuck me while you run the meeting. See if
people could stay focused.”
“You still want me to do that, huh? Haven’t forgotten that little kinky
desire?” Steve kicked the door open and carried Bucky into the kitchen,
offering an absent smile at Nat and Clint. He carried his mate up the steps to
the second floor and down the hall to the big bedroom they shared.
“It’s hot as hell. You fucking me while you are speaking in your Captain
voice,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “Which you only reserve for missions or
family meetings.”
Clint looked up the stairs after the couple, Bucky in obvious heat. The
fledgling Omega looked at his own Alpha and let out a soft keen, low down,
almost unheard.
“Oh, dear, did Bucky send my darling into heat?” Natasha asked softly with a
smile.
He looked directly at her and whimpered in his throat, shifting on his chair.
“Come now, darling, let’s get you settled, yes?” Natasha asked, slipping out of
her stool and offering her hand.
Clint stood and walked over to the red-haired Alpha, wrapping a strong arm
around her waist and nuzzling her neck from behind. “Need you, Alpha,” he said
very softly.
Natasha quirked a brow; Clint had never called her Alpha before, and smiled at
her Omega, “I know, my sweet Omega, come now . . . let your Alpha take care of
you.”
Nuzzling the back of her neck once more, the stocky blond keened softly.
“Please . . .”
A week passed by, Bucky’s and Clint’s heat lasted an abnormally long three
days. The night of the celebration of the Winter Solstice drew the entire
household into the main sitting rooms and dining room. Like Steve had
suggested, the large wooden table was covered in a vast amount of food, ranging
from fresh berries picked from the woods, to bread toasted and covered with
butter and different types of jams, and even a large plate of roasted deer. A
large bowl of popped corn sat in the middle of the grand table, buttered and
salted.
Bucky hadn’t spoken to Riley since the blond had told him that he might be
pregnant with Steve’s pup, making it the longest time since the two friends had
spoken to one another since they met many months ago. The lean Omega usually
found some excuse to leave the room once his friend entered, but is was obvious
that Bucky was avoiding Riley . . . the brunet wished he’d never suggested
playing with Sam and Riley that night in the carriage . . . he knew he’d have
to face this issue eventually but Bucky seemed to want to push it back as far
as possible.
The brunet Omega sat on the couch, next to Clint and Natasha, laughing along
with some crazy story the stocky blond told, using his exaggerated hand
gestures and excited tone. Bucky didn’t miss the mate mark on Clint’s neck; it
was about damn time that those two officially mated. The pups had just been put
to bed, leaving all the adults to enjoy each other’s company as they
celebrated. Riley had yet to return from putting down his pup, last as usual.
Steve laughed at something Clint said, eyes dancing and voice loud and merry.
He leaned against the mantle of the grand fireplace . . . grand for a large
farmhouse was still large after all, and watched his extended family easily.
Catching his mate’s eye, he smiled wider and nodded. Is this like you imagined,
my love?
Bucky nodded, giving his mate a quick wink and smile, it’s lovely, Steve . . .
thank you.
Becca turned her smile to her brother, excitement running through her very
evidently. This would be the first pleasant holiday she’d ever recalled and she
apparently enjoyed herself immensely.
The brunet Omega got up from his seat on the couch and wrapped his arm around
his little sister, kissing her temple gently; in a soft whisper he said, “
Merry Christmas, Becca.” He knew the official holiday was still a few days out,
but they were celebrating mixed houses that night.
“I love it, Merry Christmas, Bucky,” she hugged him back enthusiastically.
“This feels so perfect.”
Steve took over when Clint finished and told a story about a faerie in mid-
winter who would make sure things froze so that the world could sleep. The
faerie often had to be bribed into releasing his chilly frost, and thus,
depending on the bribe, winter could drag on for some time. He called the
faerie Jack Frost. The tall blond vampyre kept his eyes on his mate the entire
time as has spoke, laughing at the more absurd details in his own telling.
Bucky smiled, listening to the story, laughing along with his mate. He still
stood next to his sister and the Omega looked genuinely happy for the first
time in a week.
Steve finished his story with a flourish of a bow and smiled wide for his
Omega, letting the next person take over the task of story-teller. The large
blond listened and laughed along, still watching the beautiful brunet as if
Bucky were the only person in the entire world. I love you, Buck.
I love you, too, Stevie, Bucky replied with a happy glint in his eyes as he met
his Alpha’s. Bucky looked around, his pale eyes scanning the room as he noticed
that Riley had yet to return from putting Nathaniel to bed. The Omega frowned
softly, Riley hasn’t come back.
Surprised, the big blond scanned the room, but he could not sight their, at
times, still reclusive house member. He turned his sapphire eyes to Sam and
gave his oldest friend a puzzled frown and shake of his head.
Sam sighed softly and got up from the chair he’d been sitting in, but Bucky
held up a hand and looked to the dark-skinned Alpha, “if you’ll allow it . . .
I want to go talk to him?”
“Go ahead,” Sam nodded; he knew that the distance between to two Omegas had
been causing Riley stess . . . and he hoped that if they could maybe talk,
things would go back to normal.
Bucky nodded and walked up the stairs at his slower pace, taking each step one
at a time in order not to cause his abdomen to flare. At the top of the stairs,
the Omega turned into the nursery to check if Riley was still in there.
Riley sat in a rocker by the window and read softly in a soothing voice.
Nathaniel was sleeping on his lap, and Riley kept one hand over the pup’s
belly. The Omega seemed unaware he was being observed and he lifted the hand to
turn the page and read the next part of Charles Dicken’s famous A Christmas
Carol to the sleeping pups.
“Riley . . .” Bucky called softly, stepping into the room on his quiet steps.
Looking up, the blond haired, blue eyed omega slowly closed the book marking
his page with a finger still trapped in the leather-bound volume. “Hello,
Bucky,” he said softly.
“You . . . you okay? You didn’t come back down to the party,” Bucky said
gently; he walked over to Summer and Ava’s crib and smiled at the sleeping
pups.
“I didn’t feel very social and didn’t want my attitude to bring the others
down. I thought I’d stay here, instead.” The blond watched his friend with
narrowed eyes, though the narrowing was a normal expression due to the way his
eyes folded not due to emotion. Riley always looked like he was squinting into
the sun, a birth defect some might think.
Nodding, Bucky looked over at Riley, “can . . . can we talk?”
“Any time,” Riley assured his friend in a soft voice. He placed a bit of lace
in the book and set it aside. “Here or elsewhere?”
“Mind if we go to the small sitting room on this floor?” Bucky asked.
Nodding, the blond stood and tucked Nathaniel into his crib, placing a gentle
kiss on the sleeping pup’s cheek. The Omega turned to walk from the room and
soon made himself comfortable in the suggested sitting room, sinking once more
into a chair. He turned an expectant face to his fairly recent friend.
Bucky shut the door behind him and ran his fingers through his hair, “I - - I .
. . I guess I should start with I’m sorry . . . I’ve been rude this past week.”
The blond frowned very softly and slowly said, “you’ve had your reasons.”
Bucky shrugged, not arguing the statement, and released a deep breath, “that
doesn’t give me the right to treat you the way I have . . .”
Not saying anything, Riley mere watched the other Omega; his elusive smile had
been far from evident during the past week of their strained friendship.
The brunet Omega shifted uncomfortably under his friend’s gaze and he nervously
licked his lips, “I am sorry, Riley . . . for everything. I shouldn’t have
suggested . . . if it wasn’t for me - - we wouldn’t . . .” Bucky shook his head
and his eyes fell to the floor.
“Do you recall that I told you my pup starved to death in my arms when I was a
fledgling?” The soft question seemed to come out of nowhere.
Bucky blinked, taken aback by the sudden question, “yes? But . . . what does
that . . . I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following . . .”
“Because you haven’t let me explain,” Riley said in his ever-patient way.
Flushing, Bucky nodded and looked back down at the floor, not saying anything
else.
“I spent decades upon decades trying to figure out why she died. Why I hadn’t
been able to feed her. I think I now know. I think her sire may have been a
Summers.” Riley watched Bucky’s reaction, waiting to see if that information
would be enough or if he’d have to give more.
“She wasn’t being fed by sunlight . . .” Bucky murmured.
“No, she wasn’t. But more importantly, I had no idea she even would need it.
The idea never crossed my thoughts.” Riley smoothed his hands over the green
velvet trousers he wore, but his eyes never left Bucky’s face.
Bucky shook his head, looking confused, “did the sire not tell you its
heritage?”
“No, because I never knew who the sire was. I was raped by a group of vampyres.
It took me ages to track them all down, one by one, and kill them. I knew the
council wouldn’t help me.” Riley’s tone was matter-of-fact but his eyes blazed
with a maroon fire in the blue depths.
“You . . .” Bucky’s eyes snapped up to meet Riley’s face.
“Aside from my original feedings and my time with Sam, you and Steve have been
the only ones I’ve allowed to touch me,” Riley finished.
Bucky’s eyes widened and his pale eyes softened, “I’m sorry, Riley . . .”
The other Omega finally dropped his eyes. “I am sorry you are hurting, Bucky. I
never wanted to be the one to cause you such grief and pain.” He looked up,
eyes miserable. “But I wouldn’t change our play date. I was happy. I wish I
could give you your womb back, transfer this pup or another to you, but I
cannot. I never intended to get pregnant by Steve. I only wanted to enjoy time
with the people I love.”
“It’s . . . it’s not,” Bucky seemed to struggle with his words, his hand moved
to cover his abdomen, “I need to move past it. Be happy with the two pups that
I have. I don’t wish to make anyone feel bad . . . your family is growing,” he
offered a smile to Riley.
“Bucky, even if you can’t bear the pup, do you want it? I would gladly let you
raise and be dam to the pup.” Riley’s soft voice was earnest, not hint of
anything but his typical honesty.
“No,” Bucky shook his head, “I will not take your pup from you. Riley. It is
yours . . . you are it’s dam.”
A sigh seemed to shake the other Omega and he shook his head once. “The dam is
the one who bonds with it, Bucky. It’s Steve’s, I’m fairly sure. And I mean it,
I would gladly give you both the pup. I would be content being the uncle or
whatever. I don’t mind being a surrogate womb for you . . . if only I could
find a way to transfer a child of your ovaries and Steve’s testes to my womb, I
would do it for you.” After a pause, Riley added, “I love you, Bucky.”
Bucky’s eyes welled with tears and he offered Riley a soft smile, “I love you,
Riley . . . I cannot bond with the pup, it’s yours. I know it may also be
Steve’s . . . but,” Bucky shook his head, “I would not feel right.”
Nodding, Riley dropped his eyes once more. He stroked his hands over the velvet
material of his trousers. “There are things called French pockets, used to
sheath the male to stop conception . . .”
“So,” Bucky nodded and took a deep breath, “the pup is Steve’s, isn’t?”
“I’m fairly sure it is, Bucky.” He looked back up. “My heat stopped after the
playdate.”
Bucky nodded; he gave his friend a shaky smile. He didn’t hide his unease,
“yeah . . . so, definitely Steve’s then.”
Riley merely watched his friend silently.
Running his fingers through his hair, Bucky looked over at his friend, “you’re
happy, right, Riley? You want this pup?”
With a sigh and a shrug, the blond answered, brutally honest, “I could care
less that I’m with pup. Does that make me a monster? I enjoy being pregnant,
but I really don’t bond with my pups until after whelping . . . and maybe a
little after that. I think it has something to do with the loss of the first
one. It hurt so much.”
“Yeah . . .” Bucky nodded in agreement, “I would take having my womb burned
away a thousand times over than having to go through losing a pup . . .”
Riley nodded, eyes meeting his friend’s, a mutual understanding between the
wounded Omegas for the horrible bond they shared. “Don’t think I won’t love
this pup, Bucky. If you truly don’t want to bond with it, I will. But I know it
will take a while for that bond to form, so there is time for you to step in.”
Riley held out his hand. “Sam already knows this, too. I’ve already told him my
feelings.”
Bucky took Riley’s hand and squeezed it, “I - - I don’t know, Riley . . . I’m
still not sure how I feel about the pup.”
“But now you can explore your own feelings without worrying about mine,” Riley
offered a bare hint of his elusive smile. “And you can wait to decide. I know
it’s unfair, but I can whelp more if I can get pregnant. But this will be
Steve’s last, as far as I know.” Squeezing back, the older Omega nodded once.
“Just think about it. You have a few months to decide firmly, you know. I just
thought you should have the chance, if there was ever a chance for you to
take.” Slowly, Riley tugged Bucky close, stretching up from his seated position
to plant his lips firmly over Bucky’s. “I love you, Bucky.”
Bucky purred lightly into the kiss, his body thrumming at Riley’s kiss.
“What I mentioned about French pockets? It wasn’t a random subject changer,
Bucky.” Riley smiled softly, briefly. “Think about it. I’m sure we can obtain
them if . . . play dates continue. I wouldn’t mind . . .”
The Omega whimpered, his arm wrapping around the blond’s slender waist. Bucky’s
playful, happy scent permeated the room and he nipped at Riley’s earlobe.
Chuckling at the other Omega’s reaction, Riley breathed, “think they’d miss us
for a while? You can’t get me pregnant, so we could fool around if you wanted.”
His tone teased, his own scent ranging to the playful.
Bucky keened and moved his head to lick a stripe up along the side of Riley’s
neck; the brunet Omega could already feel slick beginning to soak into the
fabric of his underwear, “you cannot get me pregnant, either, Riley . . .”
Bucky’s hand trailed down his friend’s chest to palm at Riley’s member through
the velvet trousers.
With a light, soft chuckle, Riley nuzzled at Bucky’s neck, scenting his lover.
“I would love to get you with pup, though. How the council’s heads would spin
at two Omega parents.”
With a low groan, Bucky whimpered, “please, Riley? I want you to love me . . .
please?”
Sealing his mouth over Bucky’s, Riley began to slowly open the other man’s
shirt, fingers dancing lightly over the flesh as he exposed it. Breathing into
the brunet Omega’s mouth, the blond whispered, “I do love you. But I willmake
love with you . . .”
Bucky keened again and pressed his lips to Riley’s, tugging on the other
Omega’s bottom lip.
Responding with a whimper of need, Riley rose to his feet, never breaking their
kiss. He unfastened his own pants then undid Bucky’s, sliding his hand into the
brunet’s drawers to cup his erection. “Even entered another man, Bucky?” Riley
whispered between kisses.
Breath hitching in pleasure, Bucky shook his head and looked at Riley with lust
blown eyes, “n - - no . . .”
“Would you like to?” Riley purred, stroking the thickening flesh, the heavy
sac.
Bucky’s hips pressed into Riley’s hand and the brunet Omega whimpered and
nodded, “yes . . .” his tone was breathless.
Nodding, stepping back just a bit, Riley smiled. “Playing the Alpha means you
get to direct the loving, Bucky. Do you want us nude or partially dressed?” He
spread his hands, his own bulge pressing against the opening of his trousers,
the head purpling and peeking out of the top.
“Nude?” Bucky tilted his head, “I wanna see you.”
“Wanna undress me, too, or want me to strip for you, my love?” Riley purred
again, caressing Bucky’s member and giving it a light squeeze. The scent of the
blond’s arousal permeated the small sitting room.
Groaning, Bucky reached over and slipped his hand into Riley’s pants, his long
fingers wrapping around the other Omega’s base.
Head falling back on a wanton keen, Riley’s eyes closed and his face took on a
look of bliss. “God, yes, Bucky. I need your touch . . .”
Leaning forward, Bucky licked the shell of the blond’s ear and growled, “want
you to undress for me, Riley . . .”
Opening his eyes, Riley let his smile flit over his features before stepping
back from Bucky. He slowly unfastened his own shirt, button by button, his
fingers working the bone circles repeatedly in and out of the buttonholes. He
never took his eyes from Bucky as the blond parted his shirt, revealing a
hairless chest, and began to run his own fingers over his nipples, licking his
lips. “Like this, Alpha-Omega?” he questioned in a breathless tone.
“Yes . . . God, Riley, you’re gorgeous,” Bucky growled and slipped his shirt
off the rest of the way. He strode over to the blond; he pushed away one of
Riley’s hands and leaned down to suck and nip at one of the buds.
Groaning, Riley transferred the free hand to Bucky’s hair, tugging a little and
pushing the brunet’s face in further to his chest. His other hand continued to
tweak and roll his own nipple, tugging lightly. “God, Bucky . . . yeah, darlin’
. . . please . . .” His normally calm, in control voice stuttered in want.
Bucky continued his suckling, as his hand snaked around to push at Riley’s
trousers, managing to get the pants down past the blond’s ass. He pressed two
fingers against the other Omega’s slickened entrance, never once taking his
mouth off of Riley’s chest.
The blond bucked back against his friend’s questing hand, pushing the fingers
in and dragging a deep guttural moan from the blond’s belly. He tugged Bucky’s
hair again as he moaned, “God, Bucky, need you in me, darlin’ . . . need to be
filled with your beauty.”
Bucky pulled off Riley’s nipple, his lips shining with spit, and flashed his
friend a wicked smile. “Love it when ya call me darlin’ . . .” the brunet
straightened and turned Riley around, only to kneel on the ground to begin
sucking on the blond’s passage, his tongue dipping past the tight ring of
muscle.
The blond Omega gripped the desk and leaned over far, presenting his slickened
ready passage for his lover. “Hard and deep, darlin’. Wanna feel you in my
throat . . .” he groaned. The sensations drove Riley’s into a dizzying whirl of
pleasure, and he seemed unaware of his contradictory instructions. “Feels like
heaven . . . don’t stop . . .”
Pressing his face deeper between Riley’s cheeks, Bucky continued to thrust his
tongue in and out of the blond’s passage, enjoying the taste and feel of his
lover, the obscene slurping noises filled the room.
Keening and whimpering, Riley’s hips began to thrust, his hard, heavy member
jamming against the table in a need for friction to match the heavenly
sensations behind him. He panted, “yes, darlin’, you drive me . . . I . . .
God, I want you deep . . . wanna be one with you, Bucky!” his voice rose at the
end and he keened, canting his hips to give Bucky better access, presenting
beautifully like a good Omega.
Bucky pulled back, spit and slick running down his chin as he stood back up. He
slipped out of his trousers and seemed to hesitate at the thought of actually
entering Riley.
“Just grip yourself, darlin’, and line it up. I’m so damn ready for you. It’ll
be easy . . .” Riley panted instructions to the, basically, virgin male.
Following Riley’s instructions, Bucky gripped his base and lined up, pressing
slowly into that slick heat with a low groan.
Riley’s tight, moist heat enveloped him, pulled at him as the tiny muscles down
his passage welcomed the invasion. The blond groaned low in his belly for the
entire thrust, keening at the end as Bucky finally filled him, balls deep,
flush with Riley’s ass. “So damn good, darlin’!”
Bucky keened and breathed against the back of Riley’s neck; he’d never felt
anything like this before . . . never felt this all encompassing heat and
pressure that threatened to overwhelm him. The brunet began to thrust
shallowly, unsure of himself and not wanting to hurt his friend.
After a few experimental strokes, Riley gasped, “you can go harder, darlin’.
Remember, we’ve both taken your big Alpha, and he doesn’t play gently. Want you
deep and hard, Bucky. Make me feel you tomorrow.”
The brunet pulled back out until only his tip remained inside before snapping
his hips and plunging into the other Omega brutally.
“God, yes!” Riley called out as he felt filled and driven. “Like that, darlin’
. . . be my Alpha . . .”
Gripping Riley’s hip tightly in his hand, his fingers pressing into the blond’s
pelvic bone, Bucky began his fast, brutal pace, slamming into Riley’s passage
with the strength only a Rogers could possess.
“God, yes,” Riley moaned, voice stuttering as much as his hips as he plunged
backwards to try to match Bucky’s rhythm. “Wreck me, Bucky darlin’! Wreck me
good!” After a few more strokes, Riley surprisingly straightened up and curved
his back in a near impossible seeming arch. He captured Bucky’s head by the
hair and pulled the brunet in for a kiss over the blond’s shoulder, all the
while his now tighter passage taking the beating Bucky doled out.
Bucky growled, a low feral noise, loving the burning sensations that danced
across his scalp from the tugging; he deepened the kiss as his hips continued
to piston into the blond’s tight heat.
“And . . . once . . . you’ve . . . wrecked . . . me . . . Bucky . . . I’m . . .
taking . . . you . . . hard . . .” Riley grunted with each thrust inside him,
his body rocking into the punishing thrusts. “Gonna . . . love . . . you . . .
like . . . only . . . an . . . Omega . . . under . . . stands . . . how . . .”
The brunet Omega growled and pushed himself as deep as he could before painting
Riley’s walls with his large load. Bucky panted and lapped at the sweat-slicked
skin between the blond’s shoulder blades, “fuck . . . Riley . . .”
“Yeah . . .” the Omega blond breathed out, trying to catch his breath, his
erection still aching with need. “Feel . . . powerful . . . darlin’?” Riley
looked over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.
Bucky could only nod against Riley’s back, his fingers relaxed from their
strong grip on the blond’s hip to travel up the other Omega’s side, caressing
the skin with feather-light touches. “You gonna love me, Riley?” he asked after
a few moments, his breathing starting to even out, the brunet’s slick still
pumped out of his passage, coating his inner thighs and beginning to run down
his legs.
A low chuckle escaped the other Omega and he glanced over his shoulder once
more. “Sure will, but you gotta pull out or it’ll be a little hard to get in
position, Bucky. Even I’m not that acrobatic for all I was a circus performer
of old.”
The brunet quirked a brow as he pulled out of his friend, but the expression
faded into a moan as he watched cum and slick leak from Riley’s entrance.
“Hey, darlin’,” Riley said, smiling and presenting himself so Bucky could see
his handiwork. “You did that . . .”
Bucky fell to his knees again and licked up across Riley’s entrance, his tongue
dipping inside before continuing up.
A moan of shocked pleasure pulled from the blond’s belly and he dropped his
head into his arms, spreading himself a bit wider to enjoy the sensations, his
hot, heavy member trapped and painful against the desk. Riley didn’t care; he
concentrated on Bucky doing such amazing things to his already singing body.
Keening around Riley’s entrance, Bucky darted his tongue in a few more times,
coating his chin in his own seed and Riley’s slick before pulling back and
nuzzling against the back of his friend’s thighs.
Looking down over his shoulder at his friend and lover, Riley grinned. He
turned, his member evidently more than needy, and slid down, back against the
wooden desk, to the floor. “Impale yourself on me, darlin’ . . .” he instructed
in a growl very near an Alpha’s.
Bucky crawled over to where Riley sat and straddled the other Omega’s hips. The
brunet lined himself up and sunk down on that needy erection in one smooth
slide.
He was certainly nowhere near Steve’s massive size, nor did he have Sam’s
enticing curve; Riley was long and slender, promising to be able to go just
that much deeper than the other two men could attain. With a soft groan,
watching Bucky’s every move and expression, Riley soon encircled his hands
lightly on Bucky’s hips. “Ride me, darlin’ . . . ride me like a wild stallion.”
The brunet moaned and began to thrust himself up and down on Riley’s long
member, a breathless keen breaking past his lips with each and every downward
thrust. Bucky threw his head back and rested his one hand on Riley’s strong
shoulder to use as leverage to increase the pace.
With a low moan the entire time he was encased by Bucky’s heat, Riley leaned up
and began to kiss the brunet’s full lips, nipping almost in fascination at the
brunet’s bottom lip, tasting the Omega’s sweetness. The blond continued to hold
the brunet steady so he could ride as wild or as tame as he wish, his own hips
still under the punishing force Bucky drove them at. Riley kept moaning in an
appreciative purring sound.
To Bucky’s surprise, his own spent member began to twitch and fill again as
Riley’s head kept pounding against his prostate. The brunet mewled and pressed
himself closer to the blond to create the friction he so desperately needed.
“Did you go into pseudo-heat, my darlin’?” Riley chuckled low and released
Bucky’s right hip to bring his hand around and begin stroking the hardening
flesh, feeling it fill in his hand and stand proud and ready. “Did my darlin’s
body react to my pregnancy desires and mirror me?” Riley moved his lips from
Bucky’s and began to kiss his lover’s neck, over Steve’s mate marks, but not
breaching them, merely pressing hard enough to release a bit of the endorphins.
Riley would never disrespect his friends by actually claiming Bucky.
Bucky’s breath came out in small gasps and grunts as he rode Riley’s tool in
his fast rhythm, his skin slapping against the blond’s loudly. His face was
flushed and his own hips began to stutter, signaling his impending second
orgasm.
Riley let the brunet’s shaft go once more to grip his hip firmly. Suddenly, as
if he’d been waiting for such a signal, Riley took over the rhythm, helping
Bucky to rise and fall on that long slender tool. “You close, darlin’? You want
release? Want your Alpha-Omega to give you permission to spend yourself?” Riley
licked the other mate mark, pressing his mouth hard to release a small pool of
endorphins. “Not until you make me cum, darlin’. I’ve been more than fair
waiting. Show me you love me, Bucky . . . make me cum deep inside you, deeper
than any other lover . . .”
“Please . . . please,” Bucky gasped as Riley’s mouth latched onto his mate
mark. The younger Omega whined desperately as he clenched around Riley’s
length, trying to make the other man cum as soon as possible, “please, Alpha-
Omega . . . please . . .”
“Tell me how much you love me, my pretty little Omega lover,” Riley suddenly
switched to a gentle coo, his lust threaded through his tone but held at bay
through steel will. His member began to swell slightly, marking his impending
release, as his balls drew up hot and heavy, ready.
“Oh,” Bucky keened and arched his back, grinding against Riley’s body, “I love
you, Riley . . . I love you . . .” the brunet whimpered, a needy noise, as his
purpling member rubbed against the blond’s chest.
“Then when I say three, you cum hard, darlin’ and don’t stop until you’re
spent. Got it?” Riley asked in a firm near-Alpha tone. He thrust and counted at
the same time. “One . . . two . . . three!” Riley let go his own hot load of
thick white seed deep into Bucky’s spent womb, a gift of energy and healing
life-seed that would help ease the pain in time even if it couldn’t ease the
loss.
Bucky came with a small shout, painting both their chests in stripes of cum.
His whole body trembled, and he let out another whimper as his body went
completely lax, falling against Riley’s chest as his own chest heaved.
Riley cradled the other Omega carefully, tenderly, kissing gently at his
cheeks, his eyelids, his neck, his lips. “I love you, pretty Bucky. I love you
so much, darlin’,” he cooed, still deep inside as if he’d knotted, which he
hadn’t. His load pulsed hot and deep, slowly ebbing.
The brunet hummed in contentment and nuzzled Riley’s neck, breathing in the
blond’s unique Omega scent.
“Damn,” Steve voice sounded from the doorway. “That had to be the hottest thing
I’ve ever witnessed. Sam?” The large blond Alpha sounded breathless and
intrigued, not jealous in the least.
Sam nodded, an obvious bulge in his trousers, “hell yeah . . . never seen two
Omegas go at it like that . . .”
Walking in, carrying cleaning supplies for the pair, Steve revealed
inadvertently that he and Sam had noticed the impromptu playdate early on and
prepared to help their Omegas afterwards . . . sanctioning the private love
affair as much as the group orgy of some weeks earlier. The large blond knelt
down. “Don’t move, Bucky, stay comfortable. I’m just gonna put these here for
when you’re ready to clean up.” He smiled and dropped a tender kiss on his
mate's head then backed out of the room.
Bucky mewled and nuzzled Riley’s neck again, pressing himself closer to his
friend, his body desperate for the contact that he’d been deprived of for most
his life.
Carefully, Riley let his gentle hands caress over his spent lover’s back and
sides, petting and stroking, easing him from his sexual high. In a very
contented voice, he said, “don’t worry, Sammy, I’m still ready for you whenever
you need. Just give me this time with my darlin’ boy.”
Sam nodded, adjusting himself, “take all the time you need, Riley.”
The smaller blond turned his amazingly sweet smile on his mate, eyes sparkling
sapphire in joy.
Steve smiled and carefully swung the door shut between the Alphas and their
spent Omegas. He turned to Sam with a sigh of relief. “I think things are going
to be okay, Sam.”
“I’d say,” Sam chuckled and patted Steve’s broad shoulder, “we gotta get those
two together more often because,” Sam shook his head and let out a low whistle,
“damn.”
“Damn straight,” Steve agreed with a low chuckle. “Hopefully they let me watch
again now they know I did it this time.” He adjusted his own hard, needy bulge.
But the large Alpha was nothing if not patient with Bucky. He’d wait until his
mate came looking to ease his Alpha. Steve didn’t want Bucky to feel pressured
just because Steve had really liked what he’d watched.
“Those two are pretty enough to draw, don’t ya think, Steve?” Sam shot his
friend a smirk.
Groaning, Steve nodded. “I’d love to draw what I just saw, Sam. Gotta ask if
they’ll let me. I don’t wanna piss off Bucky . . . he’s so volatile about some
things.” The blond grinned at the black-haired man and licked his lips. “Does
make for some hot . . . feedings.”
“Don’t even start, Steve . . . if I get started thinking about you bending that
pretty little thing over, I won’t stop,” Sam laughed and shook his head.
Steve shifted and made a small whimper in the back of his throat, apparently as
turned on by the idea of his best friend and mate as he’d been by the two
Omegas together. “Damn, now I’m beginning to hurt. I’m going to my room and
ease this . . . give me a while.” He grinned, his eyes dancing.
Sam gave Steve a lazy, two-fingered salute, “you and me both.”
“Too bad we’ve gotten past our needy Omega stages, huh? I can still recall
taking my own knot or half dozen a week back then.” The blond turned towards
his room and paused. “Unless you wanna be my Omega-Alpha for a bit . . . trade
off?” He glanced back at Sam with a smile.
The dark-skinned Alpha chuckled and said, “some other time, Steve. I’m gonna
save myself for when my Omega comes to visit me.” Sam opened his own door,
across the hall and gave Steve a wicked smile.
Laughing, head thrown back, hand crossing over his chest, Steve nodded.
“Another time, Sam,” he promised and slipped into his room, stripping and
easing into bed, willing himself to stay hard but not drive to completion,
setting up a very slow rhythm with his hand just to keep that edge of lust for
his Omega.
Nearly a half hour later, Bucky shuffled into the room, dressed only in his
trousers, his shirt gripped in his hand. He looked over at Steve on the bed and
keened softly.
“Oh good,” Steve replied to that needful sound. “I was hoping you’d be ready
again, Buck,” He stroked leisurely still, watching Bucky.
Slipping out of his pants, letting them and the shirt fall to the floor, Bucky
sank on the bed and crawled over to his Alpha, “you wanna fuck me, Alpha? You
enjoy the little show?”
“What you really mean to say, I think,” Steve reached over and pulled Bucky
over by the arm, growling low, “is do I want to fuck you hard while you’re
still filled with that Omega’s seed?” He crashed his lips on Bucky’s mouth, his
other hand groping and weighing his mate’s member.
Pulling away to flash his mate a wicked smirk, Bucky turned around and lowered
his torso to fully present himself to Steve, “what? You mean that seed, Alpha?”
Groaning at the sight of his well-fucked mate still dripping slick and cum,
Steve grabbed Bucky’s hips and tugged him backwards, so the brunet sank
directly, without warning, on Steve’s lap and large rod. “Yeah,” he growled,
fastening his mouth onto one of the mate marks. Just like that, my wanton love,
my beautiful, desirable, hot-as-fuck, love.
Bucky’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as he was suddenly filled with his
lover’s enormous member, the thickness always on the verge of splitting him
wide open. “Stevie . . . fuck . . . Alpha . . .”
“Nah,” he grunted back, beginning to assist Bucky in rising and falling, his
member dragging across Bucky’s prostate, “I’m gonna fuck Sam some other time.
Right now, I’m all your’s.”
The Omega’s body felt like it was on fire; his session with Riley had left him
so overstimulated that every thrust, every brush against his prostate felt like
it would push him over the edge for the third time in less than a hour. Bucky’s
keened and grunted, his breath coming out in little gasps, as Steve filled him
over and over again.
“Buck?” Steve seemed to sense his lover’s state, through their shared bond and
through his body’s reactions, “too much? Too soon?” He kissed lightly now.
“You stop now . . . and I just might murder you, Alpha,” Bucky growled.
Chuckling, Steve never slowed his pace; he picked it up, pushing deeper and
harder as he rose to meet his lover’s down thrusts. “Didn’t say I’d deprive
you, baby doll.” He nipped at the mate mark on Bucky’s other shoulder. “Just
checking in to make sure you’re good for this.”
Bucky moaned and arched his back, his legs hooked under Steve’s knees, and the
brunet’s head fell back with an expression of pure bliss.
As he guided his lover along in their mating, pushing up for every down Bucky
fell, pulling back for every rise, Steve began to tweak at one of Bucky’s
nipples. His fingers played along Bucky’s other side, as if he caressed a fine
piece of velvet or even a cat, sleek and erotic. He rolled and lightly tugged
at the puckering flesh.
The Omega’s eyes rolled back and, without warning, he groaned and came for the
third time that evening, this load weaker than the other two. His hips
stuttered as he rode out the pleasurable wave of his orgasm, before his body
went limp in Steve’s embrace, his head falling back to rest against the blond’s
shoulder as his body continued to rock with each thrust.
“You want my knot or no, Buck?” Steve whispered against Bucky’s neck, still
thrusting hard and deep, still filling his lover full with his hot manhood.
“Alpha . . .” Bucky breathed, his eyes half lidded and his length developing a
whole body flush. The Omega’s body was still limp in his lover’s arms, though
his passage fluttered and clenched around Steve’s erection.
“Answer me, love,” Steve cooed, lifting his mouth and stilling his fingers.
“You want the knot or will it be too much this time?”
Bucky panted and groaned, “thrumming, Stevie . . . skin’s on fire,” the Omega’s
words were slurred, almost as if he were drunk on the pleasure his body was
receiving.
“No knot,” Steve reassured the over-stimulated man. Rather, he eased his
thrusting off a bit but continued to fill and pleasure the brunet, all the
while slowing, calming. Finally, the blond stilled and simply held his mate
close, still embedded in that sweet passage but not moving. “That okay,
sweetheart?” he asked gently.
The Omega hummed and then closed his eyes, slipping into an exhausted slumber.
As Bucky drifted off, Steve chuckled and said “Merry Christmas, Buck. I love
you.”
***** Of Replacement and Rejuvenation *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Bucky’s fingers beat against his thigh; he looked around the sterilized room
nervously. Tony, Pepper, Jarvis, and Rhodey ran around the room, preparing
everything for the surgery to come. The Omega looked down at his empty shoulder
and he lifted his hand to trace along the smooth flesh. He wore only a thin
pair of cotton pants and he sat on a firm bed in the middle of a makeshift
operating room; his legs swung back and forth over to the edge. Steve would be
back with Stephen in just a few moments to put him under so the surgery could
begin . . . a surgery that Tony said could take all day to complete.
Striding in, dressed in simple clothing, Steve smiled, his own nerves reigned
in tight for Bucky’s benefit. “Johnny’s going to take care of Summer and
Sharon’s got Ava, Buck. I’ll be able to be here for as long as it takes.” He
sank onto the chair allotted him, close enough to hold Bucky’s right hand or
even reach his hip if needed for energy feedings.
Biting his lip, Bucky nodded and released a shaky breath, “yeah . . . okay,
good.”
Stephen positioned himself at the head of the bed, in tight so the humans could
move around him when needed, much like Steve. “Are you ready, Dam Rogers?”
Stephen asked politely, acknowledging that while the group had agreed that the
clan be called Strange, no one had agreed to give up their personal names.
Looking over at Steve, Bucky nodded and laid down on the bed, you won’t leave,
right, Steve?
Tony turned and smiled, looking supremely confident. “Ready, Bucky bear?”
Never, Buck. I’ll be here until the end of life’s long line! Steve laced his
fingers with Bucky’s and smiled. He leaned in for a lingering kiss as Stephen
began the delicate energy manipulation that would aid Bucky in sleeping through
such a surgery. The last thing Bucky would recall, before waking up, if
everything went well, was Steve’s loving kiss.
Bucky’s hand went lax in Steve’s grip as he lost consciousness, his end of the
bond nothing but a very low hum.
When he woke up, sunlight was beginning to creep in around the tightly fastened
curtains, not enough to hurt but enough to mark time. Steve still held his
hand, laced fingers giving off a very steady low energy like a lifeline. The
blond looked tired, drained, but he was smiling. Tony and his crew were still
running around, cleaning things up, putting them away. And Stephen remained at
Bucky’s head with his hands on either side of the brunet’s head but not
touching, a soft energy just fading out. The big difference was a deep ache in
the left shoulder and a light fire down every vein and nerve of the limb . . .
a heavy limb of metal and wire and rubber.
“Welcome back, Dam Rogers,” Stephen intoned. “Happy New Year’s day. How do you
feel?”
The Omega groaned softly, his eyes cracking open and he looked at Steve, “Alpha
. . . hurts . . .”
Steve nodded and leaned forward to kiss Bucky, infusing more energy into him.
“Until you get used to having nerves again, it’ll hurt, Tony said. He thinks
your body has to accept the change before it will stop alerting you that
something’s different.”
Bucky whimpered and the fingers on the metal hand twitched and spasmed, making
the brunet’s whole body tense in pain.
Stephen, still in position, said, “I can make the pain stop, Bucky, but Tony
assured us that you would adjust better if you could feel the changes, no
matter how painful at first. That you would learn to control your arm easier if
you could actually feel it.”
“It’s - -” Bucky gasped at another painful jolt, “it’s fine . . . I’m okay . .
.”
Tony actually chuckled. “Awake? Yeah, we talked about the nerves, right? How
they are the carriers of pain messages? So, while your body sorts out these new
nerves and figures out what to do with them, you’ll be feeling a lot of stuff.
Not just pain, though. You’ll run the gamut of sensations even without being
touched. Best to use it to remind your body which feeling goes with which real
touch.” The inventor beamed happily.
“How’d it go?” Bucky asked softly, his pale eyes, fuzzy with pain, looked at
Tony, “the surgery?”
“Smooth as a puppy’s ass,” Tony happily reported.
“He means, sir,” Jarvis suddenly spoke, something he rarely did to any of the
household, “as smooth as a baby’s backside . . . or pup in your case.” The tall
British servant had rarely interacted with the vampyres and so it came as a bit
of a shock to realize that he could be Vision’s twin, if Vision’s skin hadn’t
been stained red during his torture. Their voices and accents were even the
same.
Looking back at Steve, Bucky offered his mate a small frown, “you tired, Stevie
. . .”
With a nod, Steve said, “if you’re up to it, the others have agreed to let me
climb in with you and feed you, which will feed me as well. If not, we’ve had a
few offers to feed either one of us.” A sudden frown crossed his face and he
mock growled, “far more to feed you than me, though.”
Bucky shot his Alpha a crooked smile and he said, “that’s because I’m prettier,
Stevie . . .” his tone was teasing, but slightly slurred with the after effects
of coming off the energy manipulation and the long surgery.
“Yeah, get the cave man to shave his beard and he might be pretty, too,” Tony
chirruped from the side. “I think he might even be kissable then.”
Steve choked on laughter. “I will only shave if Bucky wants me to. I’d have to
shave twice a day to keep pup-smooth.”
The Omega shook his head weakly, “no, I like . . .”
Steve nodded. He began to strip. “I’m going to feed my mate. If you guys don’t
wanna watch, leave. Sorry, Pepper . . . but I think you understand.”
Pepper nodded and gave the pair her sweet smile before wrapping her arm around
Tony.
Tony called out, “I think that means you can leave, Rhodey. I don’t think the
big guy’s too weak to guide his own erection into his mate.” The other dark-
skinned member of the house flushed deeply before spinning on his heel and
striding out of the makeshift surgery.
Bucky’s left arm, with a whir, clenched into a fist and the gears seemed to
lock, causing the Omega to whimper.
“Oh!” Tony looked excited enough to wet himself. “Please tell me that you did
that on purpose! That you wanna hit me. Not that it was an involuntary
reaction.” He did come over and study the arm, pushing at certain points of the
shoulder to help Bucky release the fist. “Feel those spots? They can help with
the muscles. I’ll give you a chart to practice with later.”
The hand slowly relaxed and Bucky let out a sigh, though he did look down at
the new limb as he focused on trying to move his fingers. After a moment, the
digits jerked and wiggled slightly, that soft mechanical whir filling the room
again.
“That’s my clever boy,” Tony praised in a purr, sounding like a proud parent.
“You’ll have to work at it, Bucky-boy, practice and stuff, much like learning
to write your name or walk a narrow beam.” Tony sighed, “and I’ve not figured
out how to muffle the sounds, so you’ve lost that edge of stealth. Sorry.”
Bucky looked down at the limb, mesmerized, as he fought to move the fingers
again. After a few moments the fingers curled and uncurled.
Finally nude, Steve slid onto the wide, firm bed and eased Bucky’s pants down
and off under the light blanket that had been provided. He worked behind his
lover, like almost all feedings, easing his thick member inside the tight
passage until he was balls deep. Then, letting Bucky work with that new
wondrous arm and hand, Steve began the slow, steading feeding stroke meant to
re-energize the pair. “You look like you’ll get the hang of the arm sooner than
Tony thought, baby doll,” Steve purred into Bucky’s ear with a light kiss.
Smiling softly, Bucky continued to look at the left arm, the metal gleaming and
contrasting greatly where is clashed with the skin of his shoulder.
Stephen finally backed off and rose to his feet, accompanying the rest of the
group out, making sure Tony actually left the pair in private.
“Tony said there is a chance you won’t be able to get past the pain, Bucky, so
you’ll let us know? He says there are things he and Stephen can do to help you
adjust if needed.” Steve caressed down Bucky’s right arm with a gentle hand,
giving his mate a sensation to compare to the left, which Steve also caressed.
The plates on the arm shifted and whirred under Steve’s touch, eliciting a gasp
of shock from Bucky at the odd sensation. “I - - I can feel it, Steve . . .”
the touch wasn’t exactly painful - - he felt a slight pressure where Steve’s
fingers ran down the metal.
Smiling, Steve nodded. “Tony said you would,” he kissed Bucky’s neck continuing
the energy-exchanging strokes. “He actually felt that he couldn’t have made
this work if you hadn’t been a vampyre. A vampire would have bled to death even
with transfusions, and a human couldn’t heal and blend the wires and stuff to
the natural body parts.” Steve kissed again, caressing both arms lightly. “Is
it what you’d hoped, love? Minus the pain from newness?”
Bucky smiled and wiggled the metal fingers again; despite the pain, the Omega
wanted to get to know his new limb inside and out. “Yes, Stevie . . . it’s
perfect.”
“Good, I’ve finally managed to help, in some small way, replace the limb and
life I stole from you.” The blond vampyre seemed to be happier suddenly, as if
he’d had a secret fear even he hadn’t realized. “If you work it all the time,
your body should adjust quicker. Unlike a frail human who might over-exert
itself, Tony and Stephen and I agree that a vampyre can heal fast enough to not
be worried about taxing its strength like that. As long as you’re getting
regular feedings, you can work the arm as much as you want.”
“Do you think it’s stronger than a normal arm?” Bucky mused, attempting to
clench a fist. The movements were jerky and messy but he’d managed to do it and
relax it on his own.
“Tony says it definitely is. He said that when you use a normal limb, the
insides can tear, even minisculely, and have to reheal. That’s part of why some
people twinge in pain or such. But this won’t tear. The metal and bone rods and
rubber joints are sturdier than human flesh. Therefore, you should also be able
to bear a heavier load once the flesh mends at the shoulder. Basically, your
weak point now is the shoulder.”
“Good to know,” Bucky nodded, taking in all the new information.
“It’s also heavier, Bucky, and that shoulder hasn’t had to lift any weight for
months. You need to rebuild the shoulder muscles so you can carry the weight.
At first, Tony says you might want a sling until your shoulder’s used to the
weight then wean yourself off the sling and add more weight to help build that
muscle up.” Steve smiled, glad he could provide his mate information that would
help.
Nodding, Bucky twitched his left fingers again, a tired smile on his face as he
continued to watch the limb, eyes focusing on the layers of metal plates that
recalibrated and shifted with each movement. The Omega hadn’t known how he’d
feel with the artificial limb; he’d been worried that having his left arm back
would shift him back to being the ‘Winter Soldier’, but, looking at the
shining, beautiful arm . . . he felt whole again.
Smiling at Bucky’s obvious happiness, Steve kissed the brunet on the temple.
“And soon you’ll be holding our pups, love.” The blond kept up his gentle
feeding strokes, also moving his hands over Bucky’s arms to continue
stimulating the nerve registers.
Bucky hummed in agreement and rested his head against Steve’s shoulder; he
turned his face to nuzzle into the crook of the Alpha’s neck, breathing in his
lover’s naturally musky, comforting scent. Despite Steve’s feeding, the brunet
still felt physically tired; he assumed that it was just a side effect of the
surgery and energy manipulation that had knocked him out for hours.
“Wanna rest in here or in our bed, Bucky?” Steve offered, pushing a little
extra energy through their connection, like a mini-knot of energy.
The Omega keened at the extra energy and his back arched slightly, causing the
metal limb to tug painfully on his still healing shoulder. With a hiss of pain,
Bucky gritted, “our bed? I’ll be more comfortable . . . it smells too sterile
in here, making me nauseous.”
Nodding, Steve carefully slid out of his mate and from behind the brunet. The
blond quickly tucked himself away and covered Bucky with a sheet. He grabbed
the sling Tony had provided, adjusting it on Bucky so the arm’s weight was
further supported. Finally, Steve scooped up his Omega and carried him from the
room, up the steps, and into their large bedroom. He grinned at Bucky as he
laid him in the bed. “How’s this?”
Bucky groaned in appreciation as he buried his face into his pillow and nuzzled
the soft fabric. The sling and Steve’s feeding had helped a lot with the pain .
. . he still felt the ache deep in his shoulder, where the joint was, but the
edges where the metal clashed with the skin didn’t hurt as bad. The brunet
continued to nuzzle and shift in the bed until he’d successfully made himself a
small nest of the blankets and pillows.
Chuckling, Steve unfastened his clothes and dropped them on the floor. He slid
into the bed behind Bucky and repositioned the man so he lay on his right,
enabling Steve to once more slide in for a gentle steady feeding. “Try to
sleep, my Bucky,” he kissed the mate mark on Buckys left shoulder carefully.
The Omega smiled softly before rubbing his head against the pillow again and
letting his eyes close. He fell asleep, despite the pain, feeling happy and
loved, nestled in his makeshift nest with the man he loved.
When the dusk returned, Steve finally kissed Bucky awake gently, nuzzling
behind the man’s ear.
“Five more minutes . . .” Bucky grumbled and pressed his face deeper into the
pillow, fighting his awakening body.
Chuckling, Steve stayed silent but began once more to stroke gently, having
never actually pulled out of his lover throughout their rest. He kissed again
behind Bucky’s ear, hands moving in very soft strokes up and down the brunet's
arms, waiting for memory to return to his mate.
Bucky blinked as he felt Steve’s hand on his left arm, making the gears and
plates whir and shift under the touch; the brunet gasped softly and looked down
at his metal limb. It was still there . . . the surgery hadn’t been a dream . .
. he had both arms once more.
“Still want five more minutes to sleep, baby doll?” Steve asked softly, his
voice sounding amused.
“It’s there, Steve . . . it’s real . . .” Bucky sounded as if it was the first
time he’d seen the metal arm, his tone breathless and amazed.
“Yes, you have your arm again, baby doll. It’s gonna take work to learn to use
it and get past the pain, remember?” Steve kissed Bucky’s shoulder, right where
metal met flesh.
The Omega sat up slowly, wincing as the heavy weight of his left arm pulled
against his weakened shoulder; even with the sling it was still very
uncomfortable. The ache deep inside his joint seemed to throb and the nerves
inside the limb felt like they were on fire, “yeah, thanks for reminding me,
Alpha . . .” Bucky grumbled on a pained pout, making him look like the young
vampyre he really was.
Chuckling, the blond followed his lover into a seated position so he was still
embedded inside Bucky’s passage, Steve stroked Bucky’s short curls from his
forehead and dropped a kiss there, still keeping up his stroking. “We could
have the pain removed, but they think it’s best to relearn it so you can adjust
quicker.”
“No,” Bucky shook his head softly, “I wanna relearn it . . . I wanna feel it.
The pain is already a little better than yesterday.”
“My brave, beautiful, Omega,” Steve praised with another tender kiss. “Want me
to send for the pups or you need more Bucky time?”
“Maybe another day?” Bucky asked gently, turning to look at Steve from over his
shoulder, “give it one more day for the pain to lessen . . . but, if you wanna
go see the pups, I’ll be fine, Stevie . . . probably fall asleep again.” The
Omega let out a soft laugh.
“I wanna make love with you all day and cuddle, Bucky. This is my perfect
excuse to not be leader for a few hours.” He kissed Bucky’s shoulder against
the back where metal met flesh, back and forth.
Content, Bucky hummed and closed his eyes as he leaned back against his mate’s
firm chest, his hips rolling lazily with Steve’s gentle, steady thrusts. “That
sounds nice, Stevie . . . we don’t get whole days to ourselves . . .” The Omega
doubted they had ever had a full day pass by where just the two of them had
been together without any other people or events interrupting.
“No and we need to work on getting more of these ‘us’ days, love. Everyone else
gets them. It’s our turn.” He kept up his steady back and forth with the kiss
on total flesh then on half-metal-half-flesh. After a few more moments, it
became evident there was a rhythm: he kissed full flesh on the outstroke and
half-flesh on the instroke, a release of energy into Bucky’s passage
simultaneous with the nerve stimulation and slightly painful pressure.
Never being one to shy away from a little pain, Bucky mewled softly and his
plush lips pulled into a gentle smile. His eyes were still closed, his back
pressed firmly to Steve’s chest as his hips ground and lifted with the blond’s
pace, not demanding anything more than what his Alpha was giving him at the
moment.
Steve’s fingers caressed down the metal arm to entwine with the fingers, his
thumb beginning to stroke the palm in time with his thrusts. Everything about
this feeding-loving was in sync, slow, deliberate, and gentle. Steve make sure
to add new sensations slowly and in time with the previous ones.
After several minutes, the painful fire in his artificial nerves seemed to burn
with an entirely new sensation. The brunet began to actually feel Steve’s
caresses, the gentle touches, as the plates and gears hummed and flexed around
the blond’s hand, the fingers curling around to enclose it in a gentle embrace.
“Good boy, Bucky,” Steve praised. “So gentle with such a strong hand.” He
continued his slow kisses, his gentle thrusts, his stroking on the metal palm.
Carefully, he stroked his other hand to the rhythms, caressing Bucky’s right
hand and his palm, fingers twining just like the left, caressing, stroking . .
. just loving.
Bucky gasped and his right hand tightened around Steve’s; the Omega’s face was
flushed with the overwhelming new, bizarre sensations traveling to his brain
from his left arm. The metal fingers began to dance across the top of Steve’s
hand, tapping softly and squeezing in time with the pace the blond had set.
Smiling proudly, Steve breathed into Bucky’s neck and shoulder, “that’s right,
baby, feel me. Copy me. You can control your arm and hand.” Every individual
area he was setting the rhythm, Steve was sending new pulses of energy, as
well, to coincide with every in stroke. “Let me heal you so you can get back to
what you love to do . . . loving me, and your pups, and your friends and
family.” Steve kept kissing, kept talking near nonsensical sweetness.
Groaning softly, Bucky’s fingers twitched and lost the rhythm for a few strokes
before finding it again. His right hand squeezed Steve’s hand tightly, as if
anchoring himself, while he nearly lost himself in the incredible feeling of
the blond’s touch on his left arm. Everything about the limb felt new . . .
felt good. The pain in the nerves was practically gone, the only pain he could
feel was the shoulder joint, but even that seemed dulled with the Alpha’s
touch.
“You doing okay, my pretty Omega,” Steve asked lightly, still kissing, still
caressing and stroking. “Tell me what you want, baby . . . more? Less? The
same? Wanna make you feel good.”
“Feels good, Stevie . . . feels so good . . . you’re healing me, Alpha. The
pain’s going away . . . you’re chasing away the pain, Stevie . . .” the brunet
murmured on a near moan; his entire body thrummed on the new feelings, the
exotic sensations from his left side.
Steve spent the entire night loving his mate, tenderly feeding him non-stop.
Since they didn’t eat or digest, there was no need to eliminate waste like a
human, so neither needed to stop for mundane bodily functions. Rather, the
Alpha was able to keep up his stamina the entire time, a feat that would have
been medically debilitating in a frail human. As the sun began to rise, peeking
around the edges of the curtains once more, Steve finally stopped moving, balls
deep, just sitting inside his love, lips on the edge of the metal, hands
finally still. Softly, he asked, “sleepy, my love?”
Bucky nodded, his eyes already drooping along with his body; the pain had gone
away, even the deep ache seemed nothing more than a slight twinge. His entire
body was slicked with sweat and his eyes blown from the marathon feeding. It
had definitely been the longest amount of time the Omega had spent feeding with
Steve . . . and his body felt exhausted, thrumming and alive, but tired
nonetheless.
Steve slowly pulled out and eased back, next to Bucky’s left side. He smiled
and, keeping their fingers entwined, lay against the pillows he shared with his
mate. “Time to sleep, my beautiful Omega.”
Bucky had fallen asleep before his head had even hit the pillow.
                                  **********
Sometime mid-morning a knock sounded on the door, drawing Steve out of his
sleep. The Alpha frowned and eased off the bed to go answer the summons, not
even bothering to dress. Hell, they were mostly vampyres in this household; if
they couldn’t handle nudity, something was seriously off.
“Five . . . minutes,” Bucky mumbled almost incoherently, his body snuggled
under the covers as he nuzzled the pillow Steve had just gotten up from,
breathing in his mate’s scent.
Turning an amused, yet tired, smile on his snugly mate, Steve looked back at
Tony and whispered, “what?”
Surprisingly quiet, the normally oblivious human nodded. “Checking on his pain
and movement levels?”
“He’s fine. Been feeding him to control the pain and stimulating that hand so
he gets used to it, just like you told me to. Once the new night comes, we’ll
begin the strengthening exercises. This couldn’t wait until we woke up?”
Without warning, a pillow flew at the two men conversing, hitting Steve in the
back of the head. Only Tony could see that the brunet had, unknowingly, used
his left arm to toss the plush fabric. “Five . . . minutes,” Bucky grumbled,
his voice still deep with sleep.
Chuckling, Steve scooped up the missile and turned to his love. “Oh, I didn’t
know you wanted to play in the middle of the day.”
Tony hummed, without saying anything more, and turned, leaving the men, well
satisfied that his surgery had indeed worked.
A smile tugged on the corners of Bucky’s half hidden face and one eye opened to
look at Steve with a mischievous glint.
Steve kicked the door shut out of long habit and stalked towards the bed,
pillow raised for a possible hit. “You wanna play with me, Omega?” he mock-
growled.
With a flash, the Omega tossed another pillow using his left again, at his
mate.
Shock washed over Steve’s face and he stared at Bucky, mouth hanging open.
“Buck? Do that again!”
Bucky blinked slowly but acquiesced; the brunet threw a pillow at Steve, the
mechanical whir of his moving left limb filled the room as he completed the
action.
Letting out a laugh of triumph, Steve scooped up the other two pillows,
brandishing the three as if they were precious trophies. “Bucky do you have any
idea what you just did?”
“Threw pillows at you?” Bucky looked confused.
“Left handed . . .” Steve beamed.
“Left . . .” Bucky blinked and after a few moments, a bright smile lit up his
face, “left handed! Steve!” The Omega pushed to a sitting position, the
comforter falling around his narrow hips, and lifted his left hand, the entire
arm moving with the motion.
“Well, that and you threw all your ammunition at me . . .” Steve grinned,
chuckling, hugging the pillows close.
Bucky quirked a brow and looked over at his mate, “did I? I may still have a
secret stash you don’t know about . . .”
“Where? You got a pillow shoved up your ass? That’s my job . . . to shove
things up your ass.” Steve stalked closer and dumped the pillows onto the foot
of the bed, sliding, on hands and knees, up Bucky’s body.
The brunet flashed Steve his wicked smile and slowly lifted his hands, waiting
until the blond was nearly entirely over him, before plunging his fingers,
metal and flesh, against the Alpha’s sides, right where Bucky knew Steve to be
quite ticklish.
A roar of surprised laughter escaped and Steve’s arms trembled as he tried not
to collapse on his mate with the sudden attack. “No, Buck, stop . . .” he began
to wheeze. He pushed sideways to fall to the mattress with a heavy thud,
curling and laughing, writhing under Bucky’s assault.
Quickly, Bucky straddled his mate to continue tickling the blond relentlessly,
the Omega giggled and laughed along with his mate. “What? Alpha, you’re gonna
hafta speak a little clearer . . . I can’t tell what you’re asking of me.”
“Can’t . . . breathe . . . too . . . much . . .” Steve giggled and wheezed,
curling and writhing. His eyes watered, tears streaming down his face.
After a few more moments, Bucky pulled his fingers away but continued to
straddle his lover’s hips, “really, Alpha . . . you have to speak clearer . . .
I couldn’t understand you with all that laughter.” The brunet’s lips were
stretched in a wide smile, his eyes dancing and he released his uniquely
playful scent.
Steve tried to get his breathing under control, chuckling and wheezing faintly.
He wiped at the tears on his face and collapsed willingly against the pillows,
smiling up at Bucky. “Mischief. That’s your name. I figured it out.” He lowered
his hands to Bucky’s hips to caress his fingers over the flesh there.
“Me? Mischief?” Bucky ground his hips down, spreading his developing slick
across Steve’s pelvis, “never, Alpha. I’m your good boy.”
“My good little mischief,” Steve corrected, leaning up to lightly kiss Bucky’s
plush lips. “And now you’re awake, how can I ever hope to get you back to
sleep? You are impossible at nap time!”
“That is your fault, Alpha . . . you woke me up . . . now I wanna play. You’ll
just hafta tire me out again,” Bucky drawled innocently with his toothy smile
and gleaming pale eyes.
“Ah, but I’m too tired to move, Bucky. You tickled the energy right out of me.”
He grinned back.
“Did I?” Bucky snaked down between Steve’s thighs, breathing against the head
of Steve’s member, “my poor Alpha . . . always so good to me and I tired you
out . . .” the Omega licked and lapped at the blond’s head, his tongue dipping
into the slit. Both hands gripped Steve’s hips, the left lighter than the
right.
“God, Bucky!” Steve moaned at the sensations, pressing his head back into the
pillows, eyes closing. He’d been hard for almost a full day and, despite not
being physically damaged by such a prolonged erection, he still craved release
almost painfully. Keeping his hips still, Steve tangled one hand in Bucky’s
hair, the other gripping the sheets tightly.
“Don’t sound too tired to me, Alpha,” Bucky teased and continued to lap at the
spongy head, tasting the blond’s salty pre-cum. “Taste so good, Stevie . . .
you want my mouth, Alpha? You wanna fuck my throat?” The Omega hot breath
ghosted over Steve’s moistened tip, his eyes looking up at his lover from under
his lashes.
“And this was supposed to be an emergency feeding procedure,” Steve moaned, but
he let his hips stutter upwards, pushing into Bucky’s mouth at the invitation,
tugging those thick, dark curls.
Bucky swallowed down Steve’s length greedily, he forced his throat to relax as
the massive tool was forced down deep. The Omega immediately began to constrict
his throat muscles around Steve’s member, his tongue swirled around the tip and
his cheeks hollowed.
“Shit!” Steve forcibly stopped himself from bucking into his Omega’s throat
deeper, the tight, wet, heat almost too much. “Damn, Buck, hope you’re hungry .
. .” he moaned in warning, hips beginning to stutter once more.
Never once taking his eyes off his lover, Bucky gripped Steve tighter and
pushed himself down further on the blond’s erection, not stopping until his
nose pressed against his mate’s light pelvic hair. The brunet hummed and
continued to swallow and suck around the large rod, salvia already beginning to
run down the corners of the Omega’s mouth as obscene, wet noises filled the
space.
Steve thrust hard, once, twice, and a third time, letting loose a hot load of
cum deep in his lover’s throat, straight for his belly. The large blond called
out in wordless release, his hand locking in Bucky’s curls and his eyes rolling
back as he saw white. It took a long time, several minutes, before Steve came
back down from his orgasm.
Bucky swallowed down as much as he could but a large amount of cum had spilled
from the brunet’s mouth, coating the Omega’s chin and mouth in the hot, sticky
fluid. Only after Steve stopped cumming did Bucky ease off with an audible pop
as he licked the Alpha’s tip clean, despite the mess covering his face.
Slowly, Steve opened his eyes and looked at his beautiful, mess-covered lover.
“God, you’re beautiful, Omega. Look at you covered in my seed.” He tugged Bucky
up for a solid kiss.
The brunet keened into the kiss, his tongue exploring the Alpha’s mouth and his
hands traveling up Steve’s firm chest. The cool metal fingers rubbed and
tweaked at one of the blond’s nipples.
A jolt of sheer pleasure surged through Steve at the feeling of Bucky’s metal
hand, colder than his normally chilly vampyre flesh. With a yelp, Steve’s
member twitched. “Damn, baby . . .so damn good . . .you drive me wild, my
Bucky!”
Bucky growled and nipped at Steve’s neck, spreading the blond’s own cum all
over his skin; the metal fingers continued their assault as the Omega’s teeth
scraped against the hollow of Steve’s throat. Bucky’s fangs broke skin and he
lapped at the small trickle of gold energy that leaked from the wound.
“Bucky, I love you, baby,” Steve panted, finally easing his tight grip on his
lover’s curls, frowning a little as he realized he might have hurt Bucky.
“How’re ya?”
Whimpering at the loss of the fingers in his hair, Bucky bit down at another
section of Steve’s neck, lapping at the escaping energy. The brunet’s movements
were absolutely feral, his hips ground down desperately against Steve’s as his
hands continued to explore the blond’s chest, loving the feelings the smooth
skin sent up his metal limb.
“Buck, need release, baby?” Steve breathed, reaching to cup his mate’s member,
fingers stroking his sac, caressing each ball with tender care. “Want me in
you, baby, or just my hands?”
In a flash, and an impressive show of speed and strength, Bucky flipped the
large blond over and immediately pressed his face in between his lover’s
cheeks, his tongue darting in and out of the tight ring of muscle.
A gasp of surprise followed by a low moan of pleasure forced from Steve. He
clutched the mattress below him, burying his face in the pillows and canted his
hips, presenting as he hadn’t done since he had become an Alpha hundreds of
years ago. The blond never talked about it, but he did miss being filled
sometimes, and even if Bucky only wanted to use his hot, moist tongue, Steve
wouldn’t complain. It was one of the blond’s dirty fantasies he never shared.
With a loud suck, Bucky pulled away slightly to press one of his metal fingers
against the entrance, tracing along the tight muscle. The brunet’s flesh hand
held a bruising hold on Steve’s hip. After a moment, the Omega slowly inserted
the finger to join his tongue in opening the blond up.
Steve clenched down then forced himself to relax, keening in needy approval.
“God, yes, love . . . so good . . .” he moaned and thrashed his face, keeping
his hips still.
It didn’t take long for Bucky to press a second, icy metal finger against the
Alpha’s rim, his tongue still darting in and out, matching his other finger.
Slowly, with a gentleness that contrasted with the overall feral movements that
Bucky displayed, the Omega inserted the second digit, stopping multiple times
to let Steve accommodate.
“God, been so long, baby . . .” Steve purred, adjusting quickly. “Haven’t been
filled in so damn long . . .” He turned his head to get some clear breaths.
“You liked being Alpha with Riley, Buck? You liked being in charge, baby,
filling a man?” Steve began to move his hips, slowly stuttering them, seeking
more - - more sensation, more fullness, more Bucky.
Bucky slapped at Steve’s hip, did I say you could move, Alpha?
A low groan escaped Steve at the sharp pain, shooting pleasure through his
pelvis. Feel so good, Omega. Wanna feel more of you . . . please? His tone took
on the needy whine of a heat-fueled Omega.
The brunet pulled back after several moments of opening up Steve’s passage with
his fingers and tongue. Continuing to thrust the three fingers he’d managed to
fit inside that tight heat, Bucky leaned forward so that the tip of his member
dragged against Steve’s ass, “what did you say your job was, Alpha? That you
shove things up my ass? But look at you, Stevie, rutting and begging like an
Omega in heat.” Bucky’s voice was deep with lust.
Yes! Please, Bucky, fill me! I need you! Steve begged, hands clutching the
sheet, once more shifting to present his filling ass, the sensations inside
dragging pleasure with every thrust. I’ll be your Omega, Buck. Just fill me!
His member had filled to a painful hardness but he wanted something else,
something deep inside.
With a low, possessive growl, Bucky pulled his fingers out and asked, you don’t
have slick, Stevie . . . do you have that stuff you use on me when I can’t get
slick?
“Yeah,” Steve moaned, in the washing room cabinet drawer, next to the
strawberry perfume. He didn’t explain why the hell he, a large, burly Alpha
vampyre, had a container of strawberry perfume.
Nodding, Bucky decided to ask about the perfume later as he slipped from the
bed to find the artificial slick. Don’t you dare move an inch, Alpha, Bucky
warned as he slipped into the washroom.
Will you punish me if I do? Steve’s mind voice sounded wistful.
Damn right, Bucky answered immediately on a growl. He grabbed the jar he’d been
looking for and headed back into the bedroom.
Steve glanced over and begin slowly dry humping at the mattress below him.
Moving like this? He asked on a low purr.
Bucky stalked over to the bed and knelt behind the Alpha; he grabbed at Steve’s
firm globes with each hand, squeezing and massaging the muscles. The brunet
released the flesh before suddenly bringing his flesh hand down on Steve’s ass
with a quick snap. “Bad, Stevie . . . I told ya not to move . . .” Bucky
growled.
Steve’s ass cheeks clenched and he whimpered, a lacing of pleasure under the
tone. He continued to hump the mattress, though.
Using his metal hand to grab Steve’s hip with unnatural strength, Bucky
effectively pinned the larger man down and slapped the Alpha’s ass three times
in quick succession.
Gasping on a moan, enjoying the dominance of his mate, Steve shuddered and
whimpered, his member pulsing and beginning to leak at the sharp pleasure-pain
across his asscheeks. “God, yes, teach me a lesson, baby. Make me obey . . .”
Opening the jar one-handed, Bucky slicked himself up and, without any warning,
snapped forward to bury himself into Steve’s passage, his left hand still
pinning the blond down as he began to thrust in and out in a brutal, fast pace.
“Yes!” Steve cried out at the intense stretch, the near ripping pleasure. He
pushed back as the feeling continued, his lover filling him, fucking him,
punishing him for whatever he needed. Steve quickly picked up the brutal rhythm
and thrust back hard, taking Bucky in deep, his legs spreading and bracing so
he could balance during the brutal fucking.
“Think you can cum from just me fucking you, Stevie?” Bucky growled as he
leaned over to nip at Steve’s shoulder.
“If you let me, Omega,” Steve whimpered in pleasure. “I’ll fucking paint the
bed for you, love.”
Bucky panted and breathed down Steve’s back, remaining cum on his face
spreading and mixing with the blond’s sweat. The brunet kept his brutal pace as
he licked at Steve’s spine.
“Damn,” Steve bucked backwards, taking Bucky balls deep, bottoming him out. The
large blond keened like a bitch in heat and threw his head back. “Mark me! Make
me your’s, Buck! I wanna be your’s forever,” he pleaded as he thrust backwards
with each stroke.
Without thinking, Bucky growled and moved his face so that he could fully sink
his teeth into the blond’s neck, right where his own mating marks were. The
Omega pulled back, his face covered in cum and bright gold energy, and lapped
at the wound.
Steve buried his face in the pillows once more and keened, long and low, his
muscles clenching and releasing around Bucky’s shaft and head. Your’s! I’m
your’s!
“Mine,” Bucky groaned and came hard inside his Alpha, painting his walls with
his thick, heavy load of life-seed. “My Alpha . . . my Stevie . . .”
Steve screamed in the pillow at the incredibly hot, full feeling deep inside.
His own load began shooting out in thick white ropes, covering the bed and his
own pelvis and chest, his balls clenching as he pumped life-seed out again and
again.
Bucky’s chest heaved and he rested his head against Steve’s back, his face
flushed with sweat, and his hips still stuttered and rocked gently against the
blond. After a few minutes, the Omega pulled out and collapsed to the side,
staring up at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing back to normal,
“damn, Steve . . .”
Steve answered with a small whimper of bliss, turning his face so he could
breath better, panting, eyes blown dark with a hint of molten gold. “Love . . .
you . . . Omega . . .”
“Love you, too, Alpha,” Bucky grinned lazily at Steve, nuzzling into the
pillow, his eyes half-lidded once more.
Steve shifted enough to kiss Bucky. “Feel full? No pain?” he breathed in a
broken, well-sexed drawl.
Bucky shook his head, “no, no pain at all . . . not even in the joint. It’s
weird . . . right? That’s weird? It’s only been two days . . .”
“Why is it weird, love?” Steve asked, shuffling so he was on his back with
Bucky draped over him. He stroked Bucky’s sides lightly.
“That I healed so quickly? That I pretty much have full-range of movement?”
Bucky asked, his metal fingers tracing along Steve’s firm abdomen.
“Why, because Tony was being totally human in predicting it would take weeks to
heal and even longer to learn to use it?” Steve kissed Bucky again and beamed.
“You’re a vampyre, Bucky, as long as you feed, sometimes a lot, sometimes once
in awhile, you heal. My energy heals you. The more I give, the quicker you get
better. It’s the muscles that you need to work to gain back. That I can’t heal,
I can only help ease the ache.” His fingers played over Bucky’s sides and hips
in light caresses.
Bucky nuzzled Steve’s firm chest, breathing in deeply the musky smell of sex
and the naturally calming scent of his Alpha. The brunet’s eyes closed, his
left arm resting over the blond’s chest. He knew tomorrow would be another day,
one that couldn’t be spent hiding inside the sanctuary of their room, but Bucky
believed that as long as he had Steve, he could do just about anything.
***** Of Plans and Attacks *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
A month came and went; Bucky had healed way ahead of schedule and the metal
limb worked nearly as well as his flesh one. Only once in awhile the joint
would ache, but the Omega would take some pain and being able to hold both his
pups or wrap both his arms around his lover any day. The lean brunet walked
under the starry night, Riley had accompanied him on the late night stroll
through the large, expansive property. Bucky leaned against his friend’s side,
his head on the solid blond’s shoulder.
“Getting even colder now it’s almost February, Bucky,” the other Omega softly
murmured, hand twined with the brunet’s.
Humming, Bucky nodded in agreement, “yeah . . . this is way colder than New
York ever got . . .” The younger Omega nuzzled against Riley’s thick coat, his
metal fingers rested over Riley’s small pup-bump. “Can feel it now,” the brunet
muttered, his breaths coming out in small white clouds in the below freezing
temperatures.
“Stars are everywhere. Can’t see that over the gaslights of the city,” Riley
murmured.
Looking up at the bright lights adorning the skies, Bucky smiled softly and
detached himself from Riley. The lean brunet laid down on the cold snowy grass
and watched the night sky, “my father used to tell me that stars were windows
into heaven . . . that they were how the angels watched over us at night . . .”
Bucky continued to smile up at the beautiful sight, uncaring that the moisture
from the snow seeped into his coat and trousers.
“Is this the house of the Strange Clan, please?” The voice was male, soft, and
came from a man who looked like he’d lived on the streets for longer than Bucky
had been alive. He looked rumpled, his clothing a few sizes too large for his
frame, and his spectacles had fogged in the icy air. He smelled like an Alpha,
marking him a vampyre in all probability, but there was something almost
apologetic about his scent and manner.
Shooting to his feet, Bucky whirled around to face the newcomer, flakes of snow
falling from his hair and coat. The brunet Omega looked at the man warily, his
pale eyes flashing bright gold from being startled, his metal hand gleamed in
the moonlight and a soft whir of machinery came from the limb.
“Please, is this the Strange Clan?” the man repeated, urgency in his soft
voice.
Bucky nodded once, “it is . . . what is it you need . . .” the brunet let his
eyes wander down the Alpha’s form again, his tone trailing off in a question of
the vampyres’ identity.
Relief crossed the broad, tired features and the man seemed to collapse
slightly before catching himself. “My name is Bruce, a Rogers, and I come with
a plea for help. I was hiding on the docks, staying to myself, but a group of
armored scientists began storing up in a large indigo warehouse nearby. The
smell of death and blood comes from the place, night and day, as do the cries
of terror and pain. I . . .” the man, Bruce, took a slow breath and met Bucky’s
eyes, golden light in his own. “I finally investigated only to find pups in
cages, lines and lines of pups. I went to get help from the safehouse, but once
we’d gotten back, the pups were gone and the warehouse deserted.”
 
“Johann,” Bucky murmured, eyes going wide and he looked to Riley and then back
to Bruce.
Bruce nodded, running a shaking hand through his thick, slightly greying brown
hair. “Yes, so you knew he was doing this? Forcing pups then selling them to be
butchered so Hydra could find out how to create a better vampyre breed?”
“We suspected, we could never find the solid proof . . .” Bucky answered.
Nodding, Bruce leaned back instead of forward to impart his next news, marking
a man more afraid of people than willing to work with them. “I found him again.
This time, I followed Rogers here, Steven, of course. Johann Rogers is still in
Manhattan on the wharf. I didn’t go near the place so they wouldn’t know I
found them. But I followed their two favorite vampir, a pair called Rollins and
Rumlow.”
“You followed them here?” Bucky asked, his tone laced with fear as his eyes
scanned the area.
“No, I’m sorry,” Bruce removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I followed the vampir to the wharf in Manhattan. Then I went to the Rogers
house, hoping that even though I exiled myself, I would still be able to talk
to my kin. But you were gone. So, I followed you here. It wasn’t easy and took
me a month or more, but here I am.” He put his lenses back on and looked at
Bucky. “I had to track you by scent, really . . . and it was quite faded.”
Nodding, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it slightly, “I am
Dam Rogers, Steve’s mate . . . if you’d follow me, I can take you to him?” He
offered a small bow to the Alpha.
“Please, Dam Rogers. This is urgent. The longer we take, the more pups and dams
suffer and die.” Bruce bowed clumsily back, none of the social graces present
in the frumpy older man.
Bucky turned and led the other two vampyres back into the warm farmhouse,
“Steve!” The brunet called as they entered the home; Bucky shook out the
remnants of snow from his hair and coat.
“In the drawing room,” Steve called back on a laugh. He was playing with the
pups, entire attitude relaxed and content.
Sighing, Bucky gestured for Bruce to follow him, “Alpha . . . we have a . . .
guest? With news on Johann,” the brunet said softly as he walked into the room.
Steve froze, Summer lifted in his arms high near the ceiling, giggling.
Frowning, Steve watched Bucky and Riley lead a third vampyre in, a vampyre
Steve had only met two times and that was almost three hundred years ago.
Lowering Summer, Steve bent to place the girl on the ground and straightened.
“Bruce?”
“Yes, please, not in front of pups?” Bruce looked down at the two girls.
Bucky scooped up his two daughters and ducked out of the room; the Omega
returned a few minutes later after putting the pups down for a nap. Bucky
crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorjamb; his pale
eyes continued to watch the newcomer, his entire body read as a vampyre trying
to study a situation, trying to determine if Bruce was a threat or not.
Bruce repeated his information for Steve, not elaborating or changing anything.
He stood, trembling in the warmth of the farmhouse.
Nodding, Steve said, “Riley can you call the matures in here, please? We need
to discuss what to do.”
Bowing slightly, the blond left the room. He filled his task quickly, without
more information than that they had a new lead on Hydra they needed to meet
about.
Bucky had moved from the doorway but continued to watch Bruce from the other
side of the room, his stance guarded and protective. Steve had said this
vampyre had been erratic . . . known for violent outbursts. The brunet looked
very much like the man of his past life that he’d been so desperately trying to
separate himself from.
As the other Alphas filed in, the youths and fledglings remaining behind, Steve
looked over at his rogue former clan member. “Would you like a seat, Bruce?”
Bruce shook his head. “Not, that’s . . . uh . . . okay,” his eyes fell on Wade
and widened slightly, then widened even more as Tony’s group came in. “Uh . . .
okay. I tracked down Johann Rogers and his pup farm. I tried to go to a
safehouse, but that didn’t work well. I found Johann again and thought, with
the reputation of taking down Hydra and defying council foolishness, you might
help me rescue who I can and destroy their links.”
“You said this warehouse was located on the wharf, correct?” Bucky asked, his
eyes hard and calculating.
“Yes, in Manhattan,” Bruce answered immediately.
Bucky shook his head, he looked over at Steve, “that is one of their highest
security warehouses . . . also one of the largest Hydra holdings on the East
Coast. Won’t be easy to infiltrate.”
Steve nodded. “Is it possible with no losses to our side?”
The ex-hunter sighed, “it’s hard to say for sure, Steve. I mean . . . sure,
it’s possible. Unlikely, but possible. I know a entrance that we may be able to
use . . . as long as they haven’t barred it. It’s how I use to sneak out when I
was a kid . . .” the brunet’s voice trailed off and his eyes fell.
“So, this is where you were trained?” Steve asked, reaching out to run a hand
down Bucky’s arm, absently touching the left in his month-long acceptance of
Bucky’s artificial limb as a true part of his mate.
Nodding, Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before he spoke again, “I
was there from the time my parents were killed until they let me move in with .
. . uh - - with Pietro,” the brunet took a deep breath and rubbed the back of
his neck, “if I can get us in through that entrance we might stand a chance . .
. but without that . . . it’d be too risky. All of us could die.”
Johnny frowned, looking thoughtfully at the wayward Rogers member. He said, “if
we do this, we should not split out troops too much. No matter how many lives
it might cost, we need to concentrate on taking out Johann and his group, not
the rescues. The last two times we split up, things went badly because we were
busy trying to save lives instead of taking down the real villains.”
Natasha nodded in agreement, “unfortunately, I agree with Johnny. The pups and
dams will not be the priority this mission. If we want to succeed, we’ll need
to focus on Johann and his lackeys.”
Riley sighed, one hand falling over his pup-bump. “Unless you need another
flier for this, Bucky, would I be permitted to stay home with the pups and
fledglings . . . and youths if they aren’t going?”
“Won’t be much need for fliers,” Bucky said honestly, “the compound is pretty
enclosed, not a lot of room for flying. I mean . . . obviously I don’t know the
whole building because I had no idea they were using it as a pup mill,” the
Omega frowned and ran his flesh fingers through his short locks.
“Thank you,” Riley sighed in relief, hand still over that precious small life
inside his womb. “With me and the youths here, you can take all the other
matures with you you desire. I can even hunt and kill for Peter if it takes too
long.”
Bucky looked over to Steve, “how many members you want to take, Steve?”
“This is a touchy mission, Buck. What powers do you feel will work best?” Steve
asked, still holding Bucky’s metal hand.
Looking to T’Challa and Natasha, Bucky started, “we’ll need the Romanov’s
sleath mostly. If we stand any chance of completing this mission. We need to
get in without anyone realizing what is happening until it’s too late.”
T’Challa bowed slightly, accepting the appointment to the strike team. “I will
be honored to assist,” he said in his musical voice.
Natasha nodded once, “if we need stealth, Clint with his bow will be able to
help immensely.”
“As a fledgling, aren’t you afraid he’s a little unstable still?” Johnny asked
softly.
The redhead released a breath, “I didn’t say I was happy about it. I was just
stating that we have one of the best long-range hunters in our clan. If I feed
him right before the mission, he should be stable throughout the entirety.”
“He paces due to an excess of energy, not erratic behavior, Johnny,” Riley said
calmly. “Clint needs constant activity. Taking him last time was a boon. He was
never found and killed any who passed under his perch. I vote Clint, as long as
he stays hidden, should go.”
Bucky nodded, “I agree. We can place him by the exit where Johann and his group
will most likely try to escape from once the alarms are raised.” The Omega
looked nervous, and Steve could feel that emotion seeping through their bond.
Bucky did not like the idea of going back to the place where he was trained day
in and day out to be a hunter . . . where Hydra had manipulated and put
triggers inside his mind.
Steve squeezed lightly. “Buck, if you give us plans, maybe you could sit this
out and help Riley?”
Eyes snapping to meet Steve’s, Bucky’s eyes flashed in indignation, “you know
that would be a bad idea. I know that compound like the back of my hand . . . I
know exits and entry points that aren’t on any plans.”
Holding up his other hand, Steve shook his head. “Okay, it was just a
suggestion. I’d rather you go with us and show them just what you can do with
your new life and new arm.” He squeezed the metal hand again. I was only giving
you an alternate, Baby.
Bucky huffed and his jaw hardened but his fingers squeezed Steve’s hand in
return, “the less people we have to take on his mission, the better. Johnny
should come to blow it to hell if it goes south.”
“So, we bring T’Challa, Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and Steve, along with me. Anyone
else?” Johnny asked.
The lone Alpha that had never made any verbal decisions or suggestions in any
clan meeting finally, months after he’d been rescued by this self-same group,
spoke up. “I’m from Pym clan. I can size change. Want me to come along?” Scott
ran a hand through his dark locks.
“You may be a help with getting out the dams and any pups that can be saved,”
Bucky nodded.
“So, I go in with you, wait out the fight, maybe sitting with the fledgling at
the exit, then help in cleanup?” Scott nodded. “I can do that.”
Nodding in confirmation, Bucky looked up at his mate, “do you think this would
be possible to do during daylight hours? If we can catch Johann while he is
asleep . . . we might stand a chance against his strength . . . plus, the
security is slightly lighter during the day . . . due to increased vampyre
activity during the evening.”
Nodding, a slow smile crossing his face, Steve asked, “you recall the attack on
our house in Brooklyn? If we could dress like those vampyres, we could easily
go out in daylight. Vampir and dhampyr are at a serious disadvantage, more than
us, in sunlight, as well.”
“Then we should attack during the day,” Bucky said firmly, “they will not
expect it and just give us that more of an edge.”
Johnny nodded. “Agreed. So, we have to travel, the seven of us, to Manhattan
and prepare for the attack. The rest of the Strange clan has to remain here and
watch the pups.”
Tony raised his hand. “I can feed Summer in the daylight, you know, bring her
outside to play? But I won’t, uh . . . do anything else with a kid, uh, puppy.”
Bucky rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“I’ll tend to the pups, and Tony,” Riley said. “And I’ll make sure all of them
are tended well.” He bowed to Bucky then Natasha.
Finally, Peggy spoke up. “And I will keep our communications open with you. If
you can keep an open link with Stephen, we will know how things go on both
sides.”
Bucky looked up at Steve and squeezed his hand gently; the Omega couldn’t stop
feeling some anxiety about returning to the place where he was raised . . .
where he’d first learned how to kill a vampire. Where Alexander Pierce had
promised him that they’d get revenge on the monsters that murdered his parents.
The brunet could hear Pierce’s voice shouting at him to train harder, to focus
more . . . again, again, again!
Once more, Steve squeezed Bucky’s metal hand. “Buck? How much time do you think
we’ll need to get in, track down where Johann sleeps, and get out?”
“The sleeping quarters aren’t too far from where we’ll, hopefully, be entering.
If all goes right, then I would say that we should be in and out in less than
an hour.” Bucky answered with a small shake of his head, “but . . . I’ve never
met Johann . . . so it is possible that he sleeps in a different area.”
“Johann is thin and tall with a very sallow look, dark eyes and black hair. He
looked like his cheeks are almost top hollow, and he uses a stare so
penetrating, you’d think he was a Maximoff.” Bruce spoke up from his quiet
corner, still dripping from being out in the snow.
Bucky felt a ghost of a memory, dark eyes leering down at him when he was a
teenager, a foul word spoken in a foreign language spat in his direction, it
was only bits and pieces of a whole but it was enough. The sudden memory caused
a jab of pain to shoot through his skull, so intense that Steve could feel it
through the bond.
The tall blond instantly tugged his mate into his arms and hugged him close.
“Bucky?” He raked his fingers through Bucky’s dark curls, rocking his lover
gently.
“I’ve met him . . .” Bucky gasped, his hand raising to rub at one of his
temples, trying to massage the pain away, “he . . . spat something at me . . .
he was looking down at me . . .” the brunet knew he didn’t make much sense.
Was he one of the ones who hurt you, Buck? He hurt me, Steve asked mentally. He
continued to hold his Omega closely, dropping a gentle kiss on the man’s neck.
Bucky closed his eyes, trying to will more of the memory back to him, I think
so, Steve . . . but . . . if - - if I’ve fed off him . . . how did I not get
converted? The brunet’s mental tone was confused, pained.
Did he feed you or just rape you, Buck? He might not have given you energy when
he hurt you. Steve soothingly rocked his lover, kissing Bucky’s neck and
sharing energy through every place they touched.
Another flash of a memory drew another gasp from the brunet, no . . . he always
pulled out before - - he always finished on my - - the Omega let the sentence
drop off, not feeling like he needed to complete it for Steve to understand.
Nodding, Steve stroked the brunet’s hair. That makes sense. Johann wasn’t one
to make newborns of his own, but he’d hurt anything he came near enough to. Out
loud Steve said, “I think we can do this. We need to plan the trip and the
strike. Right now, maybe we should rest and feed whoever needs feeding. Bucky
can draw up plans after lunch.”
Bucky nodded and tucked his head under Steve’s chin, wrapping both arms around
the blond’s narrow waist.
As if in unspoken agreement, the group broke up for the moment. Riley touched
Sam’s arm. “Who will feed Bruce? He’s exhausted.”
Sam looked around with a small frown, noticing the emptying room, “I suppose we
can . . .”
“I will,” Johnny said and moved to Bruce’s side. “Will energy be enough, Bruce,
or do you need more?”
Looking surprised, Bruce shook his head. “Energy is enough.”
Riley suspected that Bruce had been making due with only strict energy for
centuries now. But, he didn’t challenge the other vampyre’s claims to only want
energy. That was his own business.
Bucky pressed his cheek to Steve’s chest, focusing on the blond’s steady
breathing to regulate his own; the fingers of his left hand moved under his
mate’s shirt to caress the skin of the small of Steve’s back.
“Want me to carry you, my love?” Steve breathed into his mate’s hair, arms
securely around his lover.
Shaking his head, Bucky buried his face deeper into the firm chest, “no . . .
just - - just gimme a second?” The Omega focused solely on getting his
breathing to match Steve’s, his hand running over the Alpha’s skin, almost like
Bucky was trying to convince himself that Steve was really there.
Talk to me, love? Steve asked gently, beginning to slowly step with him towards
the stairs.
I’m fine. Just got a headache, is all . . . turns out remembering a repressed
memory ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, Bucky tried to force his tone to sound
jovial and lighthearted but it fell somewhat flat, making him sound more
sarcastic than anything else. He allowed Steve to guide him up the stairs and
into their bedroom.
Kicking the door shut, Steve began undressing his mate, despite Bucky’s new
ability after a month with a new arm. He scooped up his Omega to settle him on
the bed then began stripping himself. “Rest, Buck. I’ll take care of ya,” he
drawled. Letting his clothes hit the floor unheeded, the tall blond slid onto
the bed and over his lover’s body. He kissed Bucky deeply, letting his own
member slide over his mate’s.
“Ever tell you how much I love it when you let your Brooklyn out?” Bucky gave
his mate a small smile.
Chuckling, Steve shook his head. “You’re the first to say it,” Steve kissed
again.
Bucky hummed into the kiss, “well, it’s hot as hell . . . there’s no reason for
you to be polite around me,” the Omega looked up at his mate; he enjoyed this
talk, it gave him something else to think about other than the memory that he
hadn’t even known existed.
My beautiful Brooklyn boy, Steve purred mentally, kissing Bucky’s mate mark on
the right shoulder.
Keening, Bucky arched into Steve’s chest, rutting his hips against Steve’s; his
metal hand reached up to grip at the blond’s hair, tugging slightly.
Groaning softly, enjoying the light tugging burn at his scalp, Steve lapped his
mate’s mark, running his fangs lightly over the silver scar. Love what you do
to me, baby.
You love me, Alpha. I’m your good boy. Your good Omega. Bucky panted and his
flesh hand ran down Steve’s back, his nails dragging against the cool flesh.
The Omega extended his neck to give Steve more access to that area as his legs
wrapped around the Alpha’s narrow waist.
I think you’re getting it at last, my lovely Omega. I love you, my precious
heart. Steve reached down to stroke over Bucky’s entrance. He continued to nip
and lick Bucky’s mate mark as he lined up the tip of his thickening erection.
But he didn’t enter his lover, merely teasing his head back and forth over the
opening.
“Please, Alpha . . . please . . . I want you . . . “ Bucky pleaded on a lustful
breath, his pale eyes blown. “Don’t tease me, Alpha . . . please . . .”
“Tease you? Maybe you should take over, then, my Bucky.” Steve chuckled into
Bucky’s neck and held still, his member at Bucky’s entrance but barely touching
his lover.
The Omega whined, a high pitched noise from the back of his throat; he tried to
thrust down against Steve’s erection. With a quiet growl, Bucky pushed back and
down on Steve’s member, groaning as he felt that thick rod enter him.
“Good boy, Buck,” Steve groaned, long and low. He continued to hold still over
his lover, but made no attempt to block or stop the brunet. “You are such a
good Omega . . .”
Panting, Bucky continued to roll his hips back on Steve’s member, driving the
erection in and out, brushing against his prostate every few strokes. The Omega
gasped and mewled, breathless little sounds that barely reached Steve’s ears.
The brunet kept his metal fingers wrapped in the Alpha’s hair, and his flesh
ones running up and down Steve’s back, while his legs were securely around the
blond’s waist.
“God, you are so strong and tight, baby doll.” Steve willed his hips to stay
still, letting Bucky concentrate to take their pleasure. The more work Bucky
did for this feeding and mating, the less he’d have energy to recall the trauma
of the past. Steve moved his mouth to Bucky’s temples, kissing one than the
other as he infused gentle energy into Bucky’s head, trying to help ease the
headache.
Moaning, Bucky’s eyes fell shut at the small influx of energy; his mouth stayed
slightly open and his back arched off the bed. His hips stuttered and lost
their rhythm for a few strokes before he found it again and began to pound
himself down on Steve’s member; sweat misted the Omega’s skin as he continued
to drive himself on the large shaft. Bucky let out a low keen as he found an
angle that allowed Steve’s tip to brush over his prostate with each and every
thrust.
“Want you to drive yourself over the edge, Buck. Take me like you want me.”
Steve caressed his hands down to Bucky’s hip, enjoying the feeling of the
athletic man beneath him, though the blond had limited grope range due to
leaning his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush his lover with his
greater weight. “So hot, so tight . . . my perfect Omega . . .”
“I’m . . . your . . . good . . . boy . . .” Bucky breathed between thrusts, his
eyes opening to look at Steve; his left hand moved from the blond’s hair to
wrap around his lover’s neck. He could already feel that heat in his belly and
the tightening of his balls, signaling his impending orgasm.
“My beautiful, perfect boy,” Steve confirmed.
“Gonna . . . Stevie . . . fuck - - gonna cum just from your cock,” Bucky moaned
and bottomed Steve out, driving that enormous length deep into his passage.
Groaning, the Omega canted his hips and released his hot load, painting his own
chest in thick white stripes.
As Bucky’s hot cum covered them, Steve let go his control and thrust hard and
deep a few times before he, too, tumbled over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum
painting the brunet’s inner walls. “My Bucky!” Steve called out in
satisfaction.
Chest heaving in exertion, Bucky looked up at his mate with half lidded eyes.
His cheeks were flushed with release and his limbs, aside from the artificial
one, trembled. His muscles clenched and fluttered around Steve’s member,
drawing in more.
Slowly, Steve eased them both over until Bucky was the one on top. Smiling, he
began to lap the brunet’s neck once more, seemingly not bothered in the least
that Bucky still had his metal hand wrapped around his neck. Steve felt no
threat at all from his satiated lover.
Groaning, Bucky closed his eyes and nuzzled Steve’s chest, his left hand
slipped from around Steve’s neck to wrap his arm around his mate’s firm
abdomen, his legs twined with the Alpha’s as the Omega cuddled on Steve’s
chest.
With a soft purring growl, Steve continued to kiss his mate’s neck and throat.
“Love you more than life, my Omega.”
Bucky hummed softly, a small smile tugging on his lips, “I’ll love you forever,
Alpha . . .”
Humming in contentment, Steve let his eyes drift shut. “Need to get up soon to
plan this thing . . . but wanna cuddle with my Bucky . . .”
“Five more minutes . . .” Bucky muttered, his breathing finally starting to
even out.
“You’re in charge, Buck,” Steve murmured back.
The Omega sighed and shifted; he thought about telling his mate about Riley’s
offer from a month ago. That Riley would give Steve’s pup to him and let Bucky
be it’s dam . . . Bucky knew that Steve should know . . . had a right in making
the decision as the pup’s sire. However, just like every other time he’d
thought about telling Steve, the idea that the pup was Steve’s and Riley’s not
Steve’s and Bucky’s - - something about that always made the Omega hold his
tongue. Sure, Steve had other pups, but they were both older, hell, older than
Bucky . . . so Bucky hadn’t been forced to raise either Johnny or Sharon . . .
this new pup . . . Bucky would have to live with the fact that Steve created it
with another person, another Omega. Bucky couldn’t help but feel incredibly
selfish; Riley was right, this pup would most likely be Steve’s last, with
Bucky being sterile . . . so, of course, Steve would want to raise it . . .
would want it to be a Rogers not a Wilson.
I hear your turmoil, but not your thoughts, Baby. What’s wrong? Steve gently
asked.
Bucky shook his head and sat up, giving Steve’s lips and quick peck, before
lying smoothly, “just thinking about the mission, is all. Trying to come up
with a Plan B in case the entrance I have in mind is barred.”
Nodding, Steve stroked Bucky’s back with one lazy hand. “It’s on the wharf?
Well, there’s always the water gate that lets loads come in underneath by way
of small boat.”
“That’d work,” Bucky nodded and slowly pushed off the bed, trying not to let
his guilt from lying seep through the bond.
“No five more minutes?” Steve teased and sat up, stretching.
Smirking softly, Bucky looked over at Steve from over his shoulder. Turning
back to the dresser, the Omega pulled out a comfortable outfit.
Steve walked over to begin cleaning up, letting Bucky choose his outfit for
him. He turned with warm washcloths, glad Tony had been as good with converting
the farmhouse to steam power as his father had been. Still, the Stark, like his
father before him, never had explained to Steve how he managed to continually
have steam ready without an ongoing wood or coal fire they had to tend. “You
are gorgeous,” Steve murmured as he began to wash his mate.
Bucky smiled and kissed Steve’s lips, “not nearly as gorgeous as you, Alpha.”
“Ready to go call a meeting to give the plans? I think everyone’s had a chance
to rest and feed, even Bruce.” Steve dropped the cloth in the sink and began to
dry Bucky.
“Yeah, let’s go plan us an attack,” Bucky drawled and pulled on his clothes
after Steve finished drying him. The Omega handed over the outfit he’d picked
out for Steve.
Smiling, Steve dried himself quickly then dressed in Bucky’s chosen outfit. He
led his lover from the room.
                                  **********
Within hours they were on the move to get back to New York, just those who had
been assigned this strike: Bucky and Steve, Natasha, T’Challa, and Clint,
Johnny, and Scott. Without luggage or pups or weaker members to protect, the
group moved quickly and got back to New York within two days. Once there, they
moved to Sam’s abandoned house to hide and finish planning, knowing that the
council were more inclined to watch the Rogers house. Sam and Riley, though
allied with Steve, were not wanted by the council and so the house would have
been left untouched, at least by vampyres.
Bucky stood next to Steve; he didn’t think he’d be this nervous about being
back in New York . . . being so close to the council’s and Hydra’s grasp.
Offering a smile of encouragement for his nervous mate, Steve said “So, we go
in quiet and have Johnny check the roof access that Bucky remembers. If it’s
blocked, he signals us and we head for the water entrance. If it’s fine on the
roof, he gives us the clear signal and we all go up there. Once we figure out
which entrance, our strike will change. If it’s roof, we use a silent sweep to
clear the top, main target Johann and any of his cronies. But if it’s water, we
have to approach this a whole different way. Sound carries over water. A take
down sweep would alert them. We’ll have to play an avoidance game.” Moving his
finger over the map Bucky had scrawled for them, Steve put his finger over the
main entrance, the most convenient, a carriage entrance that could allow egress
in darkened vehicles to protect them from the sun. “Clint and Scott are here,
waiting and taking down any escapees.” Drawing a breath, looking directly at
Clint, Steve said, “unless we already know it’s an ally, everyone taking that
door goes down. Unfortunately, even prisoners since we won’t know who’s a
friend or a foe. Can you do that, Clint?”
“Yes,” the former hunter said, checking his arrows without looking up. His
voice was emotionless, though Nat could feel his mental cringe over their link.
“Remember, first priority is Johann,” Bucky repeated, “this is not a rescue
mission. Johann and his group will try to escape if we are seen too early. It
is crucial that our presence isn’t known until it is too late for them to
escape.”
“Unfortunately,” Johnny added, just to keep clarity, “we cannot waste time on
the victims. We are trying to prevent future victims. Keep focused.”
Clint merely nodded again, as if their words had been for the fledgling.
Finally, he finished checking and arranging his equipment then looked up at his
sire, his mate, only. “Ready,” he said in a neutral voice.
Natasha nodded, slipping on a pair of black gloves before pulling down the veil
to cover her face.
Johnny pulled the protective veil over his own fair skin as everybody else
finished covering up. It was almost dawn. Scott, even with protective gear,
stepped back from the others and finally, for the first time for most,
displayed his own clan’s unique gift. He used his energy to twist his molecules
and phase them so that he was a tiny, two inch version of himself.
Clint reached down and grabbed the Alpha, tucking the Pym member into the
quiver top among the fletchings of his arrows. “Don’t damage the fletching,” he
ordered the mature vampyre coldly. Something about Clint’s hunter attitude felt
so wrong compared to the playful, curious, over energetic fledgeling the group
knew so well.
Releasing a deep breath, Bucky tugged a glove over his metal hand.
Softly, in his mind, Steve asked, That won’t interfere with the gears, right?
Testing it, Bucky clenched and unclenched his fist, frowning the vampyre pulled
the glove off and repeated the action; nodding, the brunet let the discarded
glove fall to the floor. He pulled his own veil down and looked over at Steve.
Ready, Steve?
Nodding behind his veil, Steve lifted his hand to signal everyone should follow
him. He led them through the shadows to the wharf, careful of anyone that might
show interest. Once there, he nodded once.
Johnny rose into the air softly, barely a sapphire glow emitting from under his
protective clothing. He checked the roof access that Bucky had mentioned,
footsteps soft.
Bucky watched the roof intently, hoping the entrance wouldn’t be closed off.
This mission would go a lot smoother with that entrance.
Johnny made his way back to the edge of the roof and made a single wave to the
group, signaling them to come on up.
The rest of the group made their way up onto the roof. Clint and Scott left to
find a hidden perch by the designated spot. Bucky walked towards the air vent
that he used to sneak through when he just wanted a night away from the
compound. Carefully, Bucky wrapped his fingers around the grate and pulled it
off, easing it to the ground. Without a word, the brunet slipped inside the
vent and down into the building.
The rest of the small team followed, Johnny in the rear. They were keeping
Bucky in the lead, in charge, respecting his greater knowledge of the place.
Steve was behind Bucky, let me know what you need, Buck.
After a few more moments, Bucky stopped, he held up a hand and pointed below
him, there used to be a supply closet right below us. It’s in the same hall as
all the sleeping quarters, the Omega informed his mate.
Is there a way in from here or more than one door? Steve asked.
Bucky opened the grate below him and swung down into the supply room, landing
on his feet soundlessly. He stepped to the side to allow the rest of the team
to follow him in.
Is there another way in, Buck? Maybe we should send some of ours a different
way. I don’t like the limit of one exit . . . Steve asked mentally.
Have T’Challa, Natasha and Johnny keep going down the vents. Take the first
right, second left and then there should be a grate that will drop them into a
storage room that’s at the end of the hall, Bucky answered.
Nodding, Steve turned to Nat and held up both hands. He kept his fingers
together and tilted his hand to gesture down the vent way. He held up one
finger and signaled with his right to curve. He held up the left hand, two
fingers, and signaled to curve. Then he held up both hands and gestured to the
grate below them and the room beyond that. He looked to Nat for understanding.
Natasha nodded once, confirming that she understood the instructions.
Nodding, Steve let himself drop on silent feet into the supply closet. They’re
going, he told his mate.
Bucky nodded. He motioned for Steve to follow him as he slipped out into the
hall; it was empty and lined with doors. The Omega carried onward with cautious
steps.
A soft, clipped voice in a foreign accent suddenly ordered, “stop, young one.”
To Bucky’s horror, his entire body tensed and froze, unable to disobey the
direct order of the Rogers’ clan leader.
Feeling Bucky’s reaction and horror, still inside the supply closet, Steve
froze himself, but not because he was compelled. Bucky?
The vampyre known as Johann stepped out of a room near the brunet, looking
quite calm, unruffled, as if he had been expecting the former ‘Winter Soldier’
to infiltrate the warehouse. “Have we come home to the nest, little fledgling?”
Johann asked in a derisive manner.
Bucky’s top lip curled in a snarl, although Johann couldn’t see the action
under the veil; the brunet’s fingers twitched, “this was never my home,” Bucky
spat, putting as much venom and hatred into his tone as he could muster.
Bucky? Steve asked again.
Johann lifted one dark eyebrow. “There are no windows in this corridor,
fledgling. You will remove your mask.”
The Omega’s arms moved to complete the order; the brunet ripped off the veil,
his golden eyes narrowed in a cold glare on Johann. He couldn’t disobey the
Alpha leader.
“You are very lucky, fledgling.” Johann said in a near conversational tone.
“You have been indoctrinated into the greatest clan of vampyres, the strongest,
the fastest, the smartest. A hunter in a clan of hunters.” He looked
triumphant, as if he’d planned this very event. “You will be our best warrior,
our most powerful ally.”
“I will do nothing for you,” Bucky snapped, fangs flashing as his mind fought
against the order keeping his feet in place.
“You have no choice, fledgling. Without your sire here, you are at my command.”
Johann smirked slightly, his eyes flashing dark brown with gold tints. “A
female sire, if I am not misinformed. You gave up your original sire for a new
one.”
Bucky’s lips quirked in a ghost of a smirk, his pale eyes watching Johann’s
every move.
Bucky? Are you hurt? Steve whispered in his mind.
Steve! Johann compelled me! Bucky continued to watch the other Alpha, trying to
appear unphased.
Clan leaders and elders can do so, Steve explained, suddenly sounding calmer
now that his mate had explained what happened. What does he want you to do?
“Now that you have returned, an Omega no less, we have use of your skills we
taught you.” Johann seemed calm, in control, and almost non-threatening.
“Like I said, I am no longer a slave of Hydra. You do not control me, Johann.”
Bucky’s voice carried over to Steve, “I will never be your warrior.”
“You will do as I tell you,” Johann said. To prove his point, he ordered,
“strip off your shirt.”
Bucky’s fingers twitched but he couldn’t stop them from moving to unbutton the
first few buttons.
Bucky, Steve ordered in the brunet’s mind, distract him. Throw your shirt. Hit
him with your left. Steve’s voice was more forceful than it had ever been, a
deep ordering Alpha growl in his Omega mate’s mind.
The Omega closed his eyes, his high compelling fighting to not listen to Steve.
He felt like his mind was being split in two, his fingers were frozen on the
last button of his shirt, the digits twitching lightly.
Throw your shirt. Hit with your left. Do it, Omega! Steve ordered, keeping his
fear and desperation out of his tones, using every ounce of willpower to try to
compel a mate he no longer had power to compel.
Gasping, the Omega undid the last button and in a flash, threw the garment at
Johann, temporarily blinding him before he lashed out with a his left fist,
connecting with Johann’s cheek with a loud crack.
Duck! Steve roared as he leapt from the closet, launching himself over Bucky
and directly for the clan leader.
Bucky fell to the floor, hands over his head as he obeyed his Alpha’s orders.
The two older vampyres, one three hundred years, the other closer to two
thousand, rolled and fought hard, lightning fast in their blows and fang rips.
As Steve tried to get a grip, Johann slammed the blond against the wall and
screamed, “Terminate!”
Doors slammed open up and down the corridor, vampyres and other beings
stumbling from their sleep, confused in the daylight hours even if no sunlight
got in. One dark-haired vampir, a very familiar face to Bucky, launched himself
at the end of the hall towards an odd looking box of gears and levers.
Bucky whirled and fought against Steve’s order; finally, he pulled free and
tackled Johann, using his left to pin down the Alpha.
Steve, below the older vampyre, used the distraction to his advantage and sunk
his fingers into the man’s chest. He pushed his hands in deep, using his
vaunted strength, and, much a mirror of that first kill in front of Bucky,
Steve ripped the Alpha’s spine from his body, tossing it down the hall towards
the vampir frantically pulling levers. Good boy, Buck, Steve praised, even
though the brunet broke the compelling Steve had unexpectedly been able to do.
Steve was just glad Bucky had been able to do anything; he’d been too busy to
be able to lift the order to duck.
The Omega spun around to look at the vampir; he growled low and took a step
towards the creature.
Growling in return, the vampir bolted down another corridor, just as a series
of explosions rocked the warehouse from the water level.
Bucky teetered with the unexpected shaking; stumbling to the side, the Omega
caught himself on the wall and turned back to look at Steve. Are you alright,
Alpha?
Eyes wide, gold fire lacing the blue, Steve shook his head. “We need to get out
of here, Bucky. That sounded like dynamite. I think they’re destroying the
entire warehouse!”
“Can you walk?” Bucky asked urgently as he approached his mate, looking for any
serious injuries that Steve might have obtained while battling with Johann.
“I can,” Steve growled out softly. He looked towards the storage closet.
“Someone needs to let Clint and Scott know to abandon the mission!”
“I can get there fastest. You find the others,” Bucky stated firmly, not
leaving any room for argument. He offered his left hand for Steve to help him
off the floor.
Steve accepted the help and quickly kissed his mate before bolting down the
corridor, mentally following the instructions Bucky had provided in the
ventway.
Another wave of trembling shook the halls and Bucky took that as his cue to
begin running in the opposite direction of his Alpha. The Omega stumbled
several times as the entire facility shook with the force of the explosions;
Bucky could hear them getting closer and he knew he didn’t have much more time.
Finally, the brunet burst through to the exit where Clint and Scott were
supposed to be stationed. He could see several agents dead on the ground,
arrows protruding from their bodies. However, when he looked around he could
see no signs of either vampyre. A gust of wind brought a scent to Bucky, a
smell he’d come to know over the past few months, following Clint’s very unique
scent. The brunet could feel the immediate drain of the sun, his veil and shirt
having been left in the warehouse.
A loud, close explosion caused Bucky to fall to the trembling ground. The Omega
pushed to his knees only to be thrown back off balance as his world seemed to
shake.
Suddenly, a jacket was thrown over Bucky’s head and back, enveloping the
weakening vampyre. The unknown person lifted him with ease and began carrying
him towards the darkness of a building further away from the dangerous
explosion. As the pair made their way to safety, whoever carried Bucky seemed
to be struggling against the sun itself, but managed to get them into a very
active-sounding building full of strange machinery and people’s voices. The
musical voice of T’Challa called out, “go back to work! Nothing to see,
ladies!”
“T’Challa?” Bucky asked, his voice strained and weak.
“Yes, Bucky,” the older vampyre answered softly. “The others are with us. We
head towards the back offices in this paper mill. Rest easy.”
The brunet couldn’t stop his eyes from shutting; his head fell against the
dark-skinned Alpha’s chest. He’d been out for too long and his limbs felt as if
they were made of lead.
Inside a back office, the sound of a door shutting brought T’Challa removing
his own protective jacket from the Omega’s head and back. He waited while Steve
got undressed enough then lay Bucky on Steve, who finished undoing his mate’s
trousers so he could slide into him and begin feeding. The foreign vampyre
might not be as built as Steve or as tall as Bucky, but he was strong.
“‘M sorry, Alpha . . .” Bucky murmured, his body limp in Steve’s arms.
“No need,” Steve cooed, kissing Bucky’s neck as he thrust slowly and deeply,
letting energy pulse out with each gentle feeding thrust. “We got Johann, and
that was our primary goal. All of us got out alive and relatively unhurt.
You’re the most serious case, Buck.”
“Couldn’t . . . Clint . . . Scott . . .” Bucky’s mind struggled to form full
sentences, he’d never been out in the sun for that long . . . he’d never felt
this exhausted and that included when he was pregnant with Ava.
“Right here,” Clint called out in a tired but almost happy voice. “Scott and I
made it out after I ran out of arrows. Didn’t see any reason to stick around a
collapsing building.” The fledgling was wrapped up in his own mate’s embrace,
sharing energy, feeding one another.
Johnny called softly, “and I am caring for Scott, so relax, Dam. Feed and
relax.”
“Vampir . . . familiar . . .” Bucky muttered.
“Got away,” Steve said. “I think I’ve seen him before?”
Clint responded, “yeah, in the Rogers tomb. He’s the one that keeps messing
with you pair.”
Bucky’s arms shakily rose to wrap around Steve’s neck and his head fell to
nuzzle against the Alpha’s neck. Breathing in that deep, uniquely Steve smell,
the Omega started to feel some of his energy returning.
“When night falls,” intoned T’Challa, “we shall find carriages and begin our
way back home.”
***** Of Neglect and Restitution *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
At the first inn the next morning, Steve smiled as he slipped into the bed
beside his mate. “Feeling stronger?” He’d fed Bucky throughout that first day
and during the long carriage ride throughout the night.
Humming, Bucky turned on his side to look at his mate, “yes . . . don’t feel
like I’m about to pass out at any moment.”
“Natasha said Clint and Scott were almost as bad, but they’re recovering as
well.” He kissed Bucky’s lips then neck then mate mark on the left side. “I do
adore you, my beautiful brave Omega,” he breathed.
Smiling, Bucky curled into his Alpha’s chest, pressing his body as close as
possible.
Lifting his mouth, Steve smiled behind his beard. “Sam wondered if you’d
decided yet, Bucky love.”
Bucky’s entire body tensed and he sucked in a quick breath. Had Sam already
told Steve about Riley’s offer? “A - - About what, Alpha?” The Omega questioned
tentatively, not lifting his head from his mate’s chest.
“About whether you want to raise the pup,” Steve asked gently, kissing Bucky’s
shoulder once more. He seemed relaxed and curious, even over their bond.
Sighing, Bucky rolled to face away from Steve, his left hand trailing up and
down the soft sheets below him. His eyes focused on the shuttered window in
front of him. The Omega forced himself to take several deep breaths; he
couldn’t freak out . . . couldn’t lose control. His feelings of guilt rushed
through him; he should’ve been the one to tell Steve . . . he should want to
raise Steve’s pup. He shouldn’t feel a horrible sense of uselessness when he
thought about the pup that Riley was carrying. He shouldn’t feel anger that he
wasn’t the one carrying Steve’s pup . . . that he’d never be able to carry
another one of Steve’s pups ever again.
“Bucky?” Steve reached up and stroked his lover’s soft curls. “What’s wrong,
baby doll? Need more time to think about it?” The blond sounded like he was
quite accepting of whatever his mate said, as if it wasn’t his pup Riley
carried.
“I could have forever and I still don’t think that would be enough time,” Bucky
said softly, eyes still focused on the window; the muscles of his back were
tense with stress.
“Do you want me to decide for us?” Steve asked gently.
Did Bucky want Steve to decide? Undoubtedly he’d choose to raise the pup . . .
he’d want to bring it up in the Rogers’ name. This was, in all probability,
Steve’s last pup that he’d sire . . . so, it’d only make sense that he’d want
to raise it and care for it. Bucky wasn’t sure he’d be able to love it like he
loved Summer or Ava . . . would he look at it and every time be reminded of his
failures and shortcomings? The Omega stayed silent, too afraid to answer.
Nodding, Steve said, “all right. I’ll decide.” He kissed Bucky’s neck. “I
choose to leave the pup with Riley and Sam and let them raise it as a Wilson.”
He kissed again.
Bucky blinked, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Turning back over, the Omega’s
golden ringed eyes searched his Alpha’s face, “you what?”
“I said,” Steve smiled gently, “that obviously you are having troubles
imagining yourself with another pup, for whatever reasons, or you would have
jumped at the chance Riley and Sam offered. So, since you are hesitant to take
on another pup when you already have two so close in age, let Riley and Sam
raise this one.” Steve didn’t seem to see the paternity as an issue, allowing
Sam the right of sire.
“It’s - - it’s not . . .” Bucky sighed and shook his head, letting his eyes
fall.
So, it’s the fact that I’ve sired a pup with some other Omega? Steve silently
asked.
The soft whir of his arm filled the room as Bucky’s hand clenched into a fist
and he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t matter . . . I
shouldn’t care . . .
And you wish it was your’s, Steve continued softly. He kissed Bucky’s neck
again. So do I, actually. I’ve only got so few with you before fate took that
opportunity away from us.
Bucky’s jaw ticked and he fought to keep his emotions in check, he couldn’t
lash out . . . not right now . . . not when Steve had done nothing to deserve
the brunet’s anger.
Tilting Bucky’s chin with one strong finger, Steve met his mate’s eyes,
sympathy and pain mirrored there, belying the calmness he portrayed over the
subject. If I could bear your pups , I’d do it. I have a womb still, yet it
goes to waste. He sighed and kissed Bucky’s lips. Out loud he said, “perhaps in
time we’ll be able to get past our losses, Buck, but I certainly don’t expect
you to get over it this moment. That vampyre attack robbed you of something
fundamental to being an Omega. I can never understand the true pain you feel
over this.”
The Omega’s eyes welled with tears and he yanked his head away; everyday was a
constant reminder of how broken he was. How could he be Steve’s perfect mate if
he couldn’t even give the blond pups?
Sitting up, watching Bucky, Steve said, “please? Yell at me, like I can sense
you want to. I’d rather have your emotions than your silence, Bucky. I feel
like you’re pulling away from me . . .”
Bucky shot Steve a cold glare before slipping out of the bed. Did Steve not see
he was trying to keep himself together? If he started . . . he wouldn’t be able
to stop.
Frustration ran through Steve at last and he sighed, falling back to their bed.
“I guess you’ll tell me off when you’re ready. If I’m wrong and you want the
Wilson pup, go ahead and tell them you want it. I’m sure I can handle another
adoptee like our beautiful Summer.”
The Omega let out a bitter, sharp laugh and shook his head. He walked over to
grab his shirt and coat, pulling them on with hasty movements, the Omega
grumbled incoherently under his breath.
“The hall will be dark, but the rest of the inn has windows everywhere,” Steve
said softly without looking over.
Bucky opened the bedroom door and turned to snarl at his mate, “that pup will
never be like our Summer.” With that, the Omega stormed into the hall, slamming
the door on his way out. The brunet continued down the hall; he didn’t want to
talk to anyone right then . . . they would never truly understand what he was
going through.
Quickly, trying to avoid as much of the sunlight as possible, Bucky hurried
into the stables and slid into one of their carriages. The Omega curled up and
hugged his knees to his chest.
Surprisingly enough, after he calmed down, Bucky could hear the soft, steady
breathing of someone else in the same carriage.
Cursing his luck, Bucky turned to look and was surprised to see T’Challa
watching him. The Omega uncurled and said, “I’m sorry . . . didn’t - - didn’t
realize someone was in here . . .”
At Bucky’s glance, the older vampyre nodded once in greeting. “I often come out
to rest with the animals while we travel,” he said softly. “It soothes me. I
dislike foreign homes.”
Nodding, Bucky moved towards the door, of course he’d pick the one carriage
where T’Challa chose to rest in. He couldn’t even find a place to sulk right .
. .
“Why are you in the carriage, Dam Rogers?” T’Challa asked softly.
“Steve and I - - uh . . . had a fight?” Bucky offered and said, “I’m sorry to
bother you . . . I’ll - - I’ll go . . .”
The older vampyre nodded his acceptance of the explanation. “I am not bothered,
Bucky. You may stay if you choose.” He blinked in the darkness at the other
vampyre. “And I am a very good listener without judgement, if you wish.”
“Does anyone really ever not judge? They say they won’t but after they hear
what you have to say . . . they have judgments . . .” Bucky sat back against
the seat and looked down at his hands.
Nodding, T’Challa countered, “then I change my offer. I am a good listener
without holding your thoughts or actions against you. I offer you advice from a
much older vampyre who may have encountered your case before, even if I have
not lived it myself.”
“Oh, yeah? You’ve known somebody who was raised their whole life as a hunter,
had triggers words put in their head, manipulated for years, was raped and
converted by a vampyre, at the time, they saw as their greatest enemy. Then got
pregnant only to lose that pup . . . and after barely getting through their
second pup . . . their womb was taken from them? You’ve met someone that feels
completely useless and broken before?” Bucky words had come in a rush and by
the end he was panting, his eyes shining gold in the dim light of the carriage.
“Well, that is a list of many happenings, and I will honestly say that the
vampyre I know had gone through much of the same, but not all. He was raised as
a hunter by a fanatical group who trained and conditioned him, though I am not
certain if triggers were used. It is highly probable. He was brutally converted
by his worst enemy and lost that pup. Unlike you, his sire did not care for him
except as a weapon, nor did this young vampire adopt another pup. He went rogue
and has tried to stay hidden, an Omega who lost his womb to an experiment by
his sire, in this case.” T’Challa nodded softly. “And I believe he feels
broken, frightened, and very useless and out of control. He killed his own sire
to escape.” The older vampyre met Bucky’s eyes. “I know of another raised as a
hunter and brutally converted and used as a weapon to destroy whatever his sire
asked of him. He was so traumatized, he lost all memory of his previous life.
He may also consider himself broken, though I have not talked to him in over a
hundred years, and he is an Alpha, thus the womb does not apply.”
“How did they get past it? How did they move on?” Bucky asked softly.
“Logan? He is a rogue who kills any he perceives as a threat, though I hear he
was adopted by the Summers clan. He does not even recall his real name, so goes
by the name of the sire who converted him. I believe he lives as a feral
animal, never having gotten past his brutal youth. However,” T’Challa held
Bucky’s eyes with his own dark ones, “perhaps you can ask the other, the Omega,
how he gets by?”
“Who’s the other?” Bucky questioned with a tilt of his head.
Simply, as if he thought it obvious, T’Challa said, “Bruce Rogers.”
“Bruce? But . . . he’s an Alpha. I smelt him . . .” Bucky’s brows furrowed in
confusion.
“He is an Alpha because he converted someone in the last fifty years, thus
changing to an Alpha. But he never spontaneously converted after he stopped
being a youth, because of his instability. He remained an immature Omega all
these centuries. An Omega who was brutalized by his sire and lost his womb, his
ability to produce pups, unless he sired them.” T’Challa leaned forward but not
so far as to be in Bucky’s personal space. “No one has your exact story, Bucky.
But these are similar. As well, Peter Wilson, the half-breed, can no longer
produce pups. After Ellie was whelped, though successfully, Stark sterilized
him to avoid future pregnancies, not taking the chance.”
Bucky sighed and let his head fall back, resting it against the seat.
“Does it hurt still? Physically?” T’Challa asked softly.
“What? My womb?” Bucky continued to look up, his eyes focusing on the darkness.
“Your abdomen,” T’Challa said, as if correcting the younger vampyre. “You no
longer possess a womb. It is clear there.”
Bucky shrugged, accepting the correction, “sometimes. Stairs can be a problem
and it’ll flare up sometimes.”
“Then perhaps it is best this way. I had thought, if you had healed, that there
might be another way for you, but perhaps not.” T’Challa sighed softly, leaning
back once more.
Looking over at T’Challa, Bucky asked, “what other way?”
“Well, Stark replaced your arm, did he not? So he is capable of fusing nerves
and what were once your blood vessels, now energy vessels. He can give you
someone else’s body parts which are not being used but are still viable.”
T’Challa glanced over. “Many Alphas never lose their wombs. The connection
between ovaries and womb are destroyed, but not the womb itself. Of course,” he
sighed, “I do not know medicine so am uncertain how this would work. It was
merely a thought. And you would have to find a womb compatible with you. But if
you have yet to heal from the attack, then you perhaps should not have such an
untried surgical procedure. You might never recover.”
Bucky sighed and nodded; he laid down on the leather seat, curling up so that
his entire body fit on the seat. “If you see Steve . . . can you let him know
where I am . . . but that I’ll see him at the next stop?”
“Of course.” T’Challa nodded and reached for the carriage door, taking Bucky’s
words as a polite dismissal. “Perhaps speaking to Bruce about how he coped with
his problems would be your best course. Good day, Bucky. Sleep well.” And
T’Challa let himself from the vehicle, securing the door tightly against
intruders and sunlight.
Apparently, Steve took Bucky’s bid for solitude to heart. He rode in a
different carriage and let Bucky rest with T’Challa, feeding off Clint. The
tall blond, instead, stayed a respectful, almost impersonal distance from his
mate, his bond open and loving and worried, but never prying. Thus, by the time
they got to the farmhouse, Steve hadn’t spoken to Bucky since that first stop.
He stepped from his carriage into the cold February night air, pulling his coat
a little bit tighter around him. With a sigh, the tall blond let his eyes sweep
over the other carriage then turned to aid Scott and Johnny from the vehicle.
Finally, he turned, shoving his large hands deep in his pockets, and walked
slowly into the house.
Clint practically bounded out of the second carriage and turned a grin towards
Natasha, T’Challa, and Bucky. “Home!” He ran for the farmhouse.
Natasha laughed softly and followed her mate, albeit at a slower pace.
Bucky ran his flesh fingers through his hair and stepped towards the house; he
watched as his mate entered the home and chewed his bottom lip nervously. Sure,
he’d asked for some space after their fight . . . but Steve hadn’t made any
attempt after the second stop to approach Bucky . . . of course, Bucky, being
his stubborn self, didn’t approach Steve either.
“Do you wish to see your pups?” T’Challa’s voice asked from inside the
carriage, still blocked by Bucky’s form.
“Oh,” Bucky stepped aside to let T’Challa out, flushing when he realized he’d
blocked the door, “yeah . . . the pups . . .” the Omega forced himself to walk
towards the front door. With a deep breath, the brunet stepped inside.
“Da!” Summer lifted her arms in welcome, her voice excited. Becca stood there
with Bucky’s pups, her own Damien nowhere in sight.
“Hi, my beautiful girls,” Bucky smiled, though the expression didn’t quite
reach his eyes. He took both pups from Becca’s arms and kissed both on the
forehead.
With a smile of welcome, Becca hurried down the hall to retrieve her own
adopted pup.
Bucky bounced Summer gently with his left arm, he walked further into the home.
He couldn’t see any sign of Steve, so the brunet assumed that the blond still
didn’t want to see him.
Peter smiled as he passed through the front room. “Hey, everyone’s gathering in
the big room to hear what happened.” He turned his wide brown eyes on Bucky,
but his smile slipped at the expression. “Unless you’re too tired.”
Sighing, Bucky shook his head and forced a smile on his face, “I’m fine, Peter.
Thank you for telling me.”
Nodding, the younger vampyre-vampire headed towards the designated meeting
room.
Following Peter, Bucky slipped into the room and noticed immediately that Steve
wasn’t in the room. Frowning, the Omega had figured Steve had called this
meeting . . . the blond always led the family meetings. Riley softly slipped in
next to Bucky but didn’t say a word or make any move towards the other Omega.
Johnny nodded as the last of the clan, minus Steve, came in. He spoke up, “the
warehouse was destroyed and everyone still inside with it. We didn’t get to
rescue anyone that was being held. However, I understand that Johann Rogers is
no longer a threat without his spine.” The Storm Alpha fell silent, his report
to the clan finished. He shrugged. “That’s it. Unless anyone has anything
else?”
After the short meeting had been dismissed, Bucky gave a nod to Riley and then
left the room, heading towards the nursery. He put both the pups in the crib
and gave each girl another kiss. The Omega left the large room and walked into
the room he and Steve shared.
Steve lay on the bed, dressed in a light shirt and sleep pants, his back to the
door. He looked surprisingly thinner than when they’d had their mission a week
ago.
The Omega paused in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say.
I can leave if you want, Steve said, mind voice dull.
No, you were here . . . I - - I can go . . . sorry, I didn’t know . . . Bucky
licked his lips and started to turn away.
If that’s what you want. Anything you want, Buck, Steve responded, without
turning.
Huffing out a breath, Bucky’s fists clenched and then unclenched; he turned
back into the room and shut the door, “why don’t you ever get mad at me?”
Steve slowy, as if he didn’t have the energy, turned over in the bed. He
actually looked paler than normal and his cheeks were thinner under his red-
gold beard, though somehow even the blond locks seemed a shade duller. “Why
should I be mad at you?”
Taking in his mate’s appearance, Bucky shook his head, “Christ, Steve . . . did
you not feed? For a whole week?”
Giving a little tired shrug, Steve eased back to his former position. ‘Wasn’t
hungry.”
“Wasn’t hungry,” Bucky repeated and began to ease out of his clothes, “well,
your body disagrees with that statement, Steve. Fuck . . . you gotta take care
of yourself, Steve.”
Finally, a bit of anger laced Steve’s mental bond and he said, If you don’t
want me, I don’t want me. So who the hell cares?
“Who the hell - -” Bucky shook his head, “what the fuck are you talking about?”
T’Challa said you would talk to me when you were ready. That you wanted some
time apart. Steve reported dully, anger spent once more.
“I wanted a day, Steve. One day. Not a whole fucking week,” Bucky huffed and
slipped out of his shoes and then trousers.
Hunching his shoulders Steve agreed, Yeah, he said you said you’d talk to me at
the next stop, but you never did. So, I figured you needed more time.
“Mis-fucking-communication,” Bucky grumbled and stripped off his underwear.
Sinking on the bed, the Omega hesitantly placed his hand on Steve’s back,
pushing energy through to his starving mate. “Why didn’t you feed, Steve? You
drained yourself . . . you coulda really hurt yourself.”
Steve, for once, felt cold rather than over-heated. He trembled but didn’t stop
the brunet, didn’t really do much at all. Don’t feel like feeding without you,
Steve responded dully.
“Well, you have me now,” Bucky said softly and pulled at Steve’s shoulder until
the Alpha was on his back.
Unresisting, still trembling and cold to the touch, Steve looked up at Bucky
with dull blue eyes. He made a token movement to unfasten the shirt then let
his hands drop back down, shaking.
Bucky quickly stripped Steve of his clothes, “I don’t understand, Steve . . .
Johnny could have given you energy without feeding . . . why did you do this to
yourself?”
With a sigh, Steve let his eyes close. He tried on the second day, but I got
sick from it.
“You got sick?” Bucky ran his hands down Steve’s chest, infusing the Alpha with
energy.
Steve suddenly choked and turned over to actually vomit all over the side of
the bed and floor.
“Steve?! What the hell is happening? Did you get hurt at the warehouse?” Bucky
looked over his mate, trying to see if there were injuries that he might’ve
missed.
“Yeah,” he sighed then slipped back to their mind contact, Johann kept stabbing
me and I think he bit me. The blond had several festering wounds on the back of
his left shoulder and down to his flank. They hadn’t been visible before at the
hurried feeding they’d shared in the paper mill. It looked as if an infection
had grown under the skin then burst through.
Eyes widening, Bucky shot up off the bed and wrenched the door open, uncaring
of his nudity, “someone help!”
The sound of soft footfalls came to him and Peggy rounded the bend in the hall.
“Bucky?” She ran into the room, urgent to match the Omega’s tone. Stopping
short then hurrying to Steve’s side, she asked, “what happened? Why wasn’t this
tended?”
Bucky flushed and ducked his head, “I haven’t really seen Steve for close to a
week . . . I didn’t know he was hurt . . .”
“Foolish idiot,” Peggy growled at Steve. “You couldn’t tell someone you were
hurt, could you? Just as pig-headed as when you were a youth!” She turned
silvered eyes up to Bucky. “Hot as you can, water and clean, very clean
clothes. And send me someone with medical knowledge, Pepper or Riley. Not
Tony.” She turned back to the blond on the bed.
The Omega quickly pulled on his trousers and then rushed to complete the tasks
he was given. He came back into the room less than five minutes later with the
needed supplies and Riley in tow.
Sinking onto the bed next to Steve’s festering hip, Peggy had gotten the man
onto his stomach, Riley inspected the wound. “Do you have a blade and flame,
Bucky? I need to cut these and drain them. Maggots would be ideal . . .”
“Maggots?” Bucky blanched, eyes wide.
Glancing over, Riley nodded quite seriously. “Closely counted and monitored so
that they can eat the infection and bad tissue. Then they would be removed.
It’s one of the quickest ways, but the maggots much be closely counted so we
don’t lose any.”
Bucky paled; he felt like he was going to be sick.
“How did he get these wounds? Johnny didn’t mention that we had injuries this
severe,” Riley asked.
Bit, I think, Steve answered, though only Bucky would hear the mind link. And
some kind of blade.
“Johann kept biting and stabbing him,” the brunet Omega answered.
“He needs a massive feeding, too,” Riley murmured as Peggy handed him a flame-
sterilized blade. Cutting into the festering wounds, Riley began pushing out
the pus and infection, a greenish ooze smelling like decay and feces coming
from the now opened wounds. “How did he manage to rot Steve?” Riley frowned
fiercely. “I need my medical book. The one in tan skin on my reading desk in my
room.”
Bucky hurried to retrieve the book. He offered it to Riley.
Riley shook his head, his hands coated in the disgusting mess. “Just open it to
the index so you can find the information on rotting wounds. I need to know if
there’s a tincture or poultice I can use to stop this.”
The brunet Omega opened the book, flipping to the index page and then turning
to the chapter on rotting wounds. Bucky’s eyes scanned the page but the medical
jargon might as well have been foreign language to him. He had no idea what the
words meant or what he was supposed to tell Riley. Bucky whimpered with his
helplessness, “I don’t - - I don’t understand any of this, Riley . . .”
Patiently the other vampyre said, “you aren’t meant to, Bucky. Hold the first
page out for me to see.” He glanced over, away from Steve, and offered Bucky an
encouraging smile, this one not as brief as they once were.
Nodding, Bucky positioned the book so that Riley could see the page clearly, a
nervous, fearful scent wafted from the Omega as he watched his mate.
After scanning the page, Riley glanced up to his friend and sometimes lover.
“Good boy, Bucky,” he crooned softly, much as an Alpha might for a fearful
Omega. “Now if you look at that page you will see colors listed with all those
odd words. But each color has a page number. See the color of the ooze on
Steve? Choose the page whose title matches and turn to it.”
Bucky’s flesh hand shook as he flipped the pages until he landed on the correct
page. The younger Omega took a deep, steadying breath as he showed the page to
Riley.
Once the page was revealed, Riley said, “do you see the recipe? Like a cookbook
down in a human kitchen? Have you ever followed a recipe, Bucky?”
Nodding, almost frantically, Bucky answered, “yeah . . . I used to help my Ma
cook all the time . . . “ The Omega’s eyes kept flicking between his friend and
Steve, his pale eyes filled with worry and desperation to help his Alpha.
“Perfect,” Riley cooed, drawing the word out. He turned a wider, proud smile on
Bucky, as if his cooking skill were the most priceless thing. And, with the
blond Omega’s hands busy trying to cleanse the wound, most likely it was a very
valuable skill. “I need you to follow that recipe and bring me back the bowl of
stuff you make and clean rags. Don’t worry, it’s external so won’t kill him or
make him sick if you get it wrong. Take your time, since I have to clean the
wound first. Take someone with you to help you if you need it.”
Bucky hurried out of the room and down into the kitchen where he propped the
book up on the counter so he could read it while gathering all the needed
ingredients. The Omega found that the more he concentrated on making the
ointment for Steve’s wounds, the less his hands shook and the more his nerves
seemed to settle. He still continued to emit the concerned, nervous scent but
the emotions no longer consumed his entire being.
Clint looked in the kitchen and solemnly asked, “do you need Natasha’s help,
Bucky?”
Pale eyes flicking over to look at the stocky blond before returning back to
the bowl where he was currently mixing all the ingredients, Bucky shook his
head, “no . . . I’m - - I’m okay . . . I can do this. Thank you, Clint.”
A small smile flickered over Clint’s face and he said, “I meant in the
sickroom. You definitely look like you’ve got this cooking thing under
control.”
“Oh,” Bucky flushed and grabbed for a jar of honey, “I - - I don’t know?”
“Well, I’ll have her peek in then. Right? Safehouse Alphas know how to heal
these kinds of things. She might know what hurt him . . . what Johann did to
him.” Clint offered a bigger grin and sprinted away.
Bucky poured a decent amount of honey into the mixture, completely focused on
the task Riley had given him. He had to push away the guilt he felt about
neglecting his mate . . . feeling guilty wouldn’t help Steve right now; he
could deal with that later . . . also, deal with the fact that Johnny hadn’t
told Bucky that Steve was sick. As soon as Steve had vomited after the feeding,
Johnny should’ve come to Bucky right away.
Once Bucky returned with the stuff Riley had requested, and the medical book,
he saw the blond still sequestered on the bed by Steve’s hip, Natasha checking
the wound as well. Riley glanced over and nodded with his brief smile. “Thank
you, Bucky. So good to have someone know what they’re doing. Most vampyres are
lost in a kitchen.”
Bucky flushed and looked over at Steve as he stepped towards the edge of the
bed, clutching the bowl tightly.
“The wound’s clean now,” Riley said calmly, “Natasha agrees that Johann used
some sort of plant toxin on the blade. It might never have done anything to
Steve if he’d been feeding from the start, but he’s stubborn enough to have let
it go. I need you to dip a rag in the poultice and get it really coated well
while I scoop some into the wounds. Then you fold the medical rag over the
wound and we bind him with clean rags. This will draw out any lasting
infection. Then you need to feed him. He’ll most likely throw up, but you have
to ignore that. If you can’t, someone else will need to feed him until he’s not
so sick.” Riley looked over. “Do you understand? I can repeat slower.”
“No . . . I understand,” Bucky said and set the bowl on the bed so he could dip
the rag into the mixture. After thoroughly coating the cloth, Bucky set it on
the wound, gently caressing the skin around the wound with feather-light
touches.
“Good,” Riley praised. “Clever Omega,” he continued in that same Alpha-taking-
care-of-Omega manner, despite being an Omega himself. “Natasha, if you could
bind the wound in clean cloths, please? Bucky and I have nasty poultice covered
hands.”
Nodding, Natasha made quick work of securely binding the wound, holding the rag
covered with medicine in place.
“Now, Bucky, feed him like you would your pups. Let him vomit over the side of
the bed, since he already has. Once he’s recovered enough, we’ll move him to a
clean bed and I’ll take care of this mess while you feed him.”
Releasing a deep breath, Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s back, pushing as much
energy as he could through the contact.
Feebly, Steve gagged and choked, but this time he didn’t throw up. Since he’d
been vomiting a mix of infection and energy, and his energy was so depleted, it
was highly probably he just couldn’t vomit anymore.
Bucky didn’t pull away, just continued to caress Steve’s skin, careful of the
injury. He transferred a steady amount of energy into his Alpha’s body.
After long moments, Steve began throwing up again, the rest of the infection
leaving his system through the action. He fell quiet, trembling and weak, but
shortly even the dry heaving stopped and his skin took on a healthier sheen. He
was some ways from full recovery, but it was obvious he’d taken a good turn.
Fortunately, a Rogers healed quickly if given energy.
Bucky smiled softly at the noticeable change in his mate’s health. He didn’t
care about the foul smelling vomit that Steve had coughed up; all he cared
about was that Steve was getting better.
“Alright, Bucky, let’s move him to Sam’s bed. I’ll clean this up and Sam and I
will just switch rooms with you until he’s totally healed. Ready to help
Natasha and me to move him?” Riley advised, praise lacing his tone.
Nodding, Bucky carefully helped Natasha and Riley move the sickened Alpha. They
gently set the large blond on the clean bed.
Riley handed a warm, wet cloth to Bucky and said, “why don’t you clean his face
for him, and anything else that got hit. We’ll strip him the rest of the way.
That poultice will need changing every twelve hours, so just call if you need
help.” The blond looked at his friend and touched his right arm. “You’re doing
good, Bucky. One of the better medical students I’ve met.” He did not make the
suggestion Bucky study medicine; Riley had seen the look Bucky gave at the mere
suggestion of using a bug to clean the wound.
Bucky gave Riley a quick, small smile, “thank you, Riley.”
Smiling softly in return, Riley leaned over to kiss Bucky’s cheek. “Any time,
my love,” he whispered and turned to strip off Steve’s trousers and drawers
before leaving, Natasha on his heels.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Bucky slipped out of his trousers and crawled on the
bed next to his mate, peppering Steve’s skin with soft kisses, pushing energy
with each kiss.
Finally, Steve began to rouse, opening his eyes and turning his head towards
his mate. “Buck? You’re not still mad at me are you?”
“No, sweet Alpha,” Bucky cooed and ran his flesh hand down the blond’s spine,
continuing his energy transfer, “I am sorry I neglected you, Stevie . . . that
was selfish of me . . .”
“Stupid of me, too,” Steve sighed. He offered a smile to Bucky, though it was
small enough to be hidden in his beard. But I love you, even if I’m stubborn
and silly.
And I love you, Alpha . . . my stubborn punk, Bucky smiled and shifted so that
he was behind Steve.
My precious jerk, Steve shot back with love in his tones.
“I’m gonna hafta feed you, Stevie . . . that okay? You can’t be on your back .
. . the wounds are too fresh . . .” Bucky’s tone was laced with nervousness.
Nodding, Steve smiled. “Glad we practiced this?” He asked softly.
Bucky paused, “wait . . . we don’t - -” the brunet got off the bed and looked
around the room for anything they could use to help ease the Omega’s entrance
into Steve’s tight ring of muscle. Bucky found a jar similar to the one that
Steve used on the bedside table. Slicking himself up and then coating his
fingers, the Omega knelt back down on the bed and pressed his finger, slowly
into the Alpha.
Moaning softly, Steve canted slightly, trying to get into a better position
despite the painful injuries. “Good, Buck . . . love your fingers in me . . .”
Chuckling, Bucky curled his finger to massage the Alpha’s prostate, “and I love
you, Stevie . . .” the brunet crooned softly.
“My beautiful, wonderful, precious Omega,” Steve breathed on a happy sigh. “I
got luckier than any vampyre has a right to when you came into my life, love.”
“You are a sap, Alpha,” Bucky teased gently, pushing another finger into the
passage, shallowly thrusting the digits in and out, scissoring slightly to
stretch Steve open.
Keening a bit, Steve let his hips move slightly. “My wonderful mate,” he
praised, voice sounding lustful and pleased. “You treat me so well,” he
praised. The large blond wished he could move more, take more, give more, but
the pain in his back prevented much more than his light efforts.
“Don’t move too much, Steve . . . let me take care of you for a change,” Bucky
said softly, he pulled out his fingers and nestled the tip of his member
against the Alpha’s opening, “let me love you . . .”
“Please?” Steve whined softly, still moving to get into a presenting position,
hissing at the pain. “Love me, Omega?”
Bucky ran his fingers down Steve’s uninjured side until his fingers gently
gripped the blond’s hip. Slowly, the Omega slid into that tight heat, moaning
softly as Steve completely enveloped him.
Keening, Steve relaxed around Bucky’s member, letting his lover breach him,
penetrate him, feed him. He turned his head to look at Bucky and whimpered,
unable to do much. Fire seemed to lace through his back and his stomach rumbled
in an attempt at rebellion, but the large blond refused to get sick again. He
craved his mate’s touch like life itself, which, for the mated pair, it was.
“My beautiful Bucky,” he crooned.
Leaning over, Bucky carefully placed open-mouthed kisses on Steve’s shoulders
as he began to slowly, steadily thrust in and out of the Alpha, transferring
energy with each thrust. The pace was the same one the blond used when he fed
Bucky.
Settling down on the bed after the initial few thrusts, catching onto the
gentle feeding rhythm, Steve let out a contented purr, no longer moving to meet
the thrusts. HIs body instinctively understood that this wasn’t an actual
mating, this was a long-term loving. Smiling, eyes half-closed but somehow more
alert with each passing minute, the large blond made contented noises with
every thrust his lover gave. So good to me, Omega.
“That’s my good Alpha . . .” Bucky purred, pushing energy through wherever the
Omega’s and Alpha’s skin touched. “You scared me, Stevie . . . don’t ever scare
me again, okay? I love you . . . I need you here, with me . . . I can’t be here
without you,” the Omega continued his steady, deep thrusting, his mouth
breathed over the skin of the Alpha’s shoulder.
“Didn’t wanna scare you, baby doll. Wanted to respect your need to think, to be
alone.” Steve softly whimpered in mild distress, feeling like perhaps he’d
misunderstood his mate’s requests and let the brunet down.
Bucky shook his head, “that was on me, Stevie . . . I should’ve gone to you at
the second stop . . . but please - - next time you aren’t feeling well . . .
tell me, okay? Please?”
Nodding, burying his face in the pillow for a long moment, Steve answered, Yes,
Bucky. I promise to always tell you if I don’t feel well. He made soft noises
of pleasure as his mate continually filled him, fed him, knowing that the
return energy coming from Steve would make Bucky stronger, too. I love you so
much sometimes it scares me. Does that make sense, Buck?
“That’s it, my Alpha. Take what you need . . . let me heal you . . .” Bucky
panted, tongue lapping at the blond’s shoulder, it makes sense . . . do you
understand how terrified I was when I first realized that I loved you, Steve? I
couldn’t explain it . . . after that initial knotting at Sam’s house. I didn’t
think you could possibly love me back . . . hell, it didn’t even make sense
that I loved you.
I’m beginning to understand that maybe it’s the same for both of us? Steve
answered. I feel as if I was made to love you . . . will do so through space
and time. But, I fell in love with you after your first release.
Bucky smiled against Steve’s sweat misted skin, breathing in the scent of his
Alpha as he thrust in and out, stroking the blond’s prostate with each thrust.
Steve continued to feed as long as Bucky tended him, his skin growing healthier
looking despite remaining his typical pale coloring, his eyes taking back on a
blue sparkle, his hair looking more vibrant than before. The large Alpha fell
asleep at one point during the feeding, but woke within an hour and let out a
contented sigh just to be linked with his mate, even if Bucky no longer thrust.
He seemed unhurt by the Omega lying over the blond’s injured back; Steve didn’t
feel pain, only contentment from such an act.
Bucky’s eyes blinked open as his mate shifted, sitting back up, the Omega
immediately apologized, “I am sorry, Alpha! I - -” the brunet flushed,
realizing he’d fallen asleep as well.
“Yeah, so if you’re so damn sorry, get back down here,” Steve growled softly,
playfully. “I like you on me, baby doll.”
“But your back . . .” Bucky looked down at the covered injury with hesitant
eyes.
“Feels better with your energy spread over it, Buck. It soothes the pain.”
Steve didn’t move, but his tone came out a bit more alert than before they’d
slept.
Still embedded in his lover, Bucky carefully laid back down, cautious of his
weight on the Alpha.
“Yeah,” Steve sighed, sounding pleased. “Now relax, baby doll. You being tense
doesn’t help. But you relaxed, draped on me, feeding my every pore . . . that I
can get into.” He offered a playful smile as he turned his head, trying to
glimpse Bucky.
Huffing a breath, Bucky muttered, “needy Alpha,” but his lips were curled in a
soft smirk as he slowly let his body relax and drape over the blond’s back.
“Does this feel good for you?” Steve asked softly, in after thought.
Bucky hummed and nodded, “probably fall asleep again, though . . . how are you
feeling? Any pain? Nausea? I can check your wound . . . Riley said it needed to
be changed every twelve hours but if you’re hurting I can check . . .” the
Omega had begun to babble, a nervous tick he only really displayed around his
Alpha.
“Mild, but not when you lay on me. I feel like I’m wrapped in a warm blanket
that presses in all the right muscles.” Steve sighed in contentment. “Barely
know I’m hurt, actually. I was stupid to let it fester.”
“Yes, you were,” Bucky agreed, “coulda fed you earlier and it wouldn’t have
gotten so bad. Riley wanted to put maggots on the wound . . . I’ll tell ya, I
nearly puked right there. I mean . . . maggots?” The Omega scrunched his nose
up in disgust.
“I’ve had that before. Doesn’t hurt,” Steve responded mildly. “Works good, too,
if the infection’s serious enough.”
“Ew,” Bucky responded, he turned his head to begin kissing the Alpha’s strong
shoulder again, “don’t let anyone ever put maggots on me, okay? Like, ever.”
Laughing, Steve asked, “so I should have stopped Tony during the surgery?”
Bucky tensed and his skin paled slightly, “Tony . . . please tell me you’re
joking . . .”
“Sorry, baby, I was kidding. You didn’t get an infection, so no need for such a
treatment,” Steve hurried to soothe Bucky.
Settling back down, Bucky grumbled, “cruel Alpha . . .” The brunet had always
had an issue with insects . . . they made his skin crawl and the thought of
having some inside of him caused a shiver to run down his spine.
“Unless it’ll save your life when there’s no other choice at all? Yeah, I won’t
let them use maggots on you, Buck. I promise.” Steve smiled and eased his arms
up, folding them carefully under his cheek on the pillow. “No stiffness when I
move, either.”
Bucky hummed his approval, his tongue lapping at his mate’s skin; the brunet
shifted his hips to get more comfortable, wincing slightly at the dry tugging
of Steve’s passage around him.
“Need to pull out, baby?” Steve asked softly.
“Am I hurting you?” Bucky questioned back.
“Not me, but I wondered if you are hurting?” Steve responded.
“I am fine, Stevie,” Bucky said softly, “you still need feeding, Alpha.” The
Omega wanted to take care of his mate, the dryness was only a slight
discomfort.
“Can always pull out, slick back up, and push in again,” Steve advised on a
soft croon. “Don’t mind that as often as you like,” he chuckled.
The Omega nodded and eased out, Steve’s tight passage rubbing against his
member.
Hissing at the mild burn, Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s something that I never
had . . . slick glands. Always had to use the bottled stuff.” Steve glanced
over his shoulder at Bucky.
Bucky quickly coated his fingers and re-slicked the Alpha’s passage and then
his own member, pushing back in, the brunet groaned. “Shit . . . feel so good,
Stevie . . .”
“Yeah, you do. Fill me good, baby doll.” Steve rested his head again, accepting
the feeding. “You know, Buck, I don’t mind if you wanna do this for some time.
But if it bothers you, hurts or anything, we can stop. I feel pretty strong
again.”
“You feel strong, huh?” Bucky smirked at the Alpha, his fingers brushing over
the blond’s ticklish sides, “tell me how strong you feel, Alpha . . .”
“Strong enough to lie here with you all night and not break a sweat,” Steve
teased.
“Not one?” Bucky asked with a quirked brow.
Thinking, Steve sighed, “okay, maybe one or two,” he admitted then chuckled.
“But I don’t want you hurting, either.”
The Omega scoffed and rolled his eyes, “you would worry about me . . . even
when you’re the one that is hurt . . .” Bucky began to shallowly thrust again,
teasing his mate.
“Oh, God, Buck!” Steve groaned low. “I love just being with you. Don’t care if
I hurt, as long as you’re with me.”
Continuing his shallow ministrations, the Omega smiled, “I’m right here, Alpha
. . . or are you not paying attention?”
“Always, I feel you loving me inside, where we are the most secret and
intimate, my love, my sweet Omega,” Steve moaned softly.
“I’ll always love you, Stevie,” Bucky said, his left hand running down Steve’s
spine, the cool metal contrasting with the heated skin.
Nodding into his arms, Steve offered a tired smile. “My back doesn’t feel like
it’s on fire anymore. It feels achy on the wounds, but not real bad. You make a
good alchemist.”
“Papa would come home from the shipyards with lots of injuries . . . I helped
Mama tend to him. Make the ointments and whatnot . . . she always told me I’d
make a good doctor . . .” Bucky said on a sigh; he tried not to think about his
parents too often . . . usually it’d just leave him depressed.
“Think she was right, Buck,” Steve confirmed, eyes closing slowly. He briefly
clenched his muscles around his lover then relaxed totally with a sigh.
Smiling softly, Bucky leaned over to kiss the back of Steve’s neck, “sleep,
Alpha . . . I’ll be right here when you wake.”
Steve fell into a soft sleep, the pain in his back almost gone, contentedness
radiating over their bond.
After another few hours of feeding his mate, Bucky gently eased out of Steve
and covered the large Alpha with a blanket. The Omega quietly stepped out of
the room, not wanting to wake the sleeping man, and shut the door behind him.
He walked down the hall until he stood in front of Johnny’s door, knocking
three times, he announced, “Johnny . . . it’s Bucky . . . may we speak?”
The door opened readily enough, as if the man had been waiting for a visit.
“Please, Dam Rogers, come in,” he said softly and backed into his bedroom.
Nodding once, Bucky ducked past the Alpha and into the room, turning around to
face the blond, he asked, “why didn’t you tell me my mate was sick?”
Nodding, Johnny responded, without any accusatory tones, “I honestly thought
you knew, due to your bond, and were punishing him for some reason I didn’t
understand. I apologize. In future, I will always speak up.”
Bucky sighed and ran his flesh fingers through his hair, “you really thought
that I’d be so cruel to punish Steve while he was sick?” The Omega’s tone was
slightly hurt, not even angry.
“No, I thought it was a sexual game between the two of you,” Johnny flushed
bright red, much as his sire did.
“A . . .” Bucky blushed and nodded, “I - - I do not know why I couldn’t feel
that he was sick over the bond . . . but I would appreciate it if next time you
come to me?”
“He didn’t shut down the bond, but perhaps he kept it from you so you wouldn’t
worry? I don’t pretend to understand my sire or the bond you two have.” Johnny
ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ll certainly tell you if it happens
again, as long as you realize that if you are the one sick, I’ll be telling
Steve.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Bucky answered with a small smile, “thank you,
Johnny.”
“Of course. I am sorry I let it go so long, but hindsight . . .” he sighed.
“We both have things to be sorry for, I should not have neglected him . . .”
Bucky released a breath and shook his head.
“You and my sire are both very stubborn, prideful men, Bucky. That means you
both feel in the right during an argument.” Johnny shrugged again.
Laughing softly, Bucky nodded, “we are . . . I just didn’t think he’d hide such
a serious injury for so long . . . had we gotten held up . . .” the Omega
shuddered; just the mere thought of losing Steve was almost too much to handle.
“By then I am sure Scott would have said something,” Johnny reassured. “It’s
possible Steve thought he deserved the treatment for some reason. Like I said,
I don’t know what happened, and you both tend towards some unusual love play,
so I was unable to judge it properly. In future, I don’t care if it is love
play or not, I’ll say something. And if I embarrass you, I will remind you of
this very conversation.” He offered a smile at last.
Smiling in return, Bucky nodded and stepped towards the door, “thank you . . .
I am happy to be able to count on you, Johnny.”
“You are my sire’s mate, and therefore my dam,” Johnny said. “I feel greedy
having two such couples to rely on.”
Flushing, Bucky gave Johnny another sweet smile and slipped out of the room,
letting the door shut softly behind him.
***** Of Punishment and Summer *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
“Dam! Dam . . . I wanna play!” Summer’s voice called out loudly, her laughter
and excitement echoing through the entire house. She bounced on her parents’
bed, jolting the two slumbering vampyres.
Bucky groaned into the pillow and looked at Steve, giving his mate a cautious
glance; it was midday and Summer was wide awake.
Opening his eyes and sighing softly, Steve sat up and stretched, wincing at the
lingering twinges of pain he felt ever since his long-neglected injury from two
years previously. “Did you wake up the entire nursery, Summer Bug?” he asked.
“Nooooo . . .” Summer sang loudly, beaming up at her adoptive sire, “I just
woke you! I wanna play! I not tired!”
“In midday? When you’re supposed to be sleeping?” Steve asked on a yawn.
Bucky sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, his flesh ones rubbing the
sleep out of his eyes. He knew that Summer always had troubles sleeping during
the daylight hours, her biological need for sun driving her into a more human
sleeping schedule. “Alright, my love . . . let’s go play,” the Omega yawned and
swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“I’ll take her,” Steve offered with a smile.
“It’s alright, Stevie . . . you took her last time,” Bucky stood up, grabbing
his squealing pup as he did so.
“Don’t forget the veil and gloves, Buck,” he reminded his mate.
Offering Steve a lazy two-fingered salute, Bucky winked and said, “aye, aye,
Captain.” Hitching Summer higher on his hip, the Omega yawned again and walked
over to the door. “Gotta be quiet until we get outside, okay, my love?” Bucky
asked gently, taking the stairs one at a time, not wanting to jar his two-year
old injury.
Leaning forward to whisper in her dam’s ear, Summer nodded enthusiastically, “I
can be quiet, Dam. I promise!”
Smiling at his pup, Bucky set her down by the front door so he could quickly
pull on the required protective covering so the sun wouldn’t drain him.
Grabbing Summer’s small hand, the Omega opened the door and stepped out in the
warm spring air. The pup let go of Bucky’s hand and ran into the vast fields
surrounding the farmhouse, laughing merrily as she chased a butterfly.
Bucky smiled and watched his daughter carefully; she always thrived in the
direct sunlight and he could never deny her what she biologically needed to
have to be strong.
A very pretty red-haired woman smiled as Summer ran directly towards her. It
certainly couldn’t be Natasha; the vampyre would have been mortally sick in
this bright sunshine. Smiling, the redhead scooped up the laughing child and
nuzzled her neck.
“Summer!” Bucky ran towards his daughter, his protective nature coming forth as
he watched the stranger pick up his pup. “Excuse me . . . I am sorry, ma’am . .
.” the brunet reached for his pup.
The woman looked directly at Bucky and her smile faded a bit. She had green
eyes, but a secondary color, a soft orange, seemed to glow around the green.
But if that were true, she’d be a vampyre . . . out in direct sunlight. “No
need to be sorry. She’s precious.” The woman nuzzled Summer again, with a
smile.
“Yes . . .” Bucky said warily; he stepped closer and reached for Summer again,
“she is . . . and she’s my daughter . . . so if you’d please . . .”
“Is she?” The woman seemed intrigued. “Then you must be James Rogers. I found
you at last. The council have been looking for you and your’s for some time,
James.” She did not hand the child over, bouncing the girl slightly on her
generous hip.
“Look, ma’am . . . I don’t know who you are . . . please give me back my pup .
. .” Bucky said, his tone harder with his increasing stress.
“Jean Summers.” The woman responded instantly. “I apologize for my rudeness.”
 
Bucky’s eyes widened and his hands froze. Jean Summers? The woman suspected to
be Summer’s sire? The brunet shook his head and said, “Well, Jean . . . please
. . . let me have my pup back . . .” The Omega tried to stand his ground, not
let his nervousness and concern leak into his tone.
“Obviously you have done well tending my pup,” Jean said. “But now she belongs
with her own clan. We’re equipped to handle a day-dweller, James. Thank you.”
Her tone stayed calm, almost conversational.
Bucky growled, a low, protective noise, “she is not your daughter! She bonded
with me and Steve . . . you have no claim over her!”
“I am here with the permission of the council, James. So, you will let me take
my pup to her real home.” Jean watched him, a flare of orange in her eyes.
The Omega snarled and reached for Summer again, grabbing her gently to pry her
away from the Alpha’s grip.
“Let go!” Jean ordered, eyes flaring bright orange, voice a resounding growl.
Bucky gasped and immediately his hands fell to his sides, “you can’t take her!
She’s my pup! Please!” His eyes were wide and his tone pleading, “please, you
can’t do this!”
“Really?” She sighed. “And don’t you have other pups to attend without
exhausting yourself over a day dweller?” She cuddled the little girl.
“Let go of me! I wanna go with Dam!” Summer cried and squirmed in the woman’s
hold, “I want Dam!”
Bucky took another step forward and reached for the pup again, trying to soothe
his daughter.
“You will not touch her,” Jean ordered, fiercely.
Whimpering, the Omega dropped his hands and he felt completely helpless.
The woman went suddenly flying, hit by a large body in totally covering. A
voice, Steve’s or Johnny’s, screamed, “Summer! Run for the house! Don’t turn
back!”
Summer ran towards the house; her wails and cries could be heard as she entered
the home.
Two more figures in complete covering ran past the child in the opposite
direction, heading towards the field. Inside the kitchen, Riley scooped up the
pup and carried her away from the door, cuddling and soothing.
“I jus’ wanna play! I want Dam!” Summer cried, clutching at Riley’s shirt.
“I know, love. We’ll let you play on the roof. We can make a garden and a
little house and even a small brick pond. Would you like that?” Riley reassured
her, his voice calm the entire time, not threatened or worried, an oasis of
protection.
“Where’s Dam? I want Dam!” Summer sobbed, her cheeks flushed from her crying.
“Dam will be here as soon as he makes the woman leave, Summer Bug,” Steve said
from the living room, where the curtains had been pulled tight. “Come to Sire?”
Summer reached out for her sire and Riley let her go to Steve instantly. Steve
wrapped her in his large, cool embrace, kissing her face, cheeks, eyelids,
neck, even the tip of her nose. “You find the oddest people to make fall in
love with you, don’t you my pet?”
Sniffling, Summer laid her head on Steve’s chest, “I didn’t mean to make Dam
sad!”
“You didn’t make him sad, Summer Bug,” Steve assured, stroking the pup’s back.
“That lady made him sad.”
“She ordered him, Sire . . . like you tol’ me was bad . . . she did that! She’s
a mean lady!” Summer whimpered.
Knowing that meant they dealt with an elder, Steve narrowed his eyes. “Did she
say her name, pet?” He stroked the girl’s flame-red hair.
“She had my name! But I don’t want her to have my name . . . she’s mean!”
Summer gasped between sniffles.
“Ah . . . did she have another name or just Summer?” he prodded gently.
“Jean?” Summer answered, “that’s a weird name . . . I don’t like her, Sire.”
“Yeah, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” Steve cuddled again and sat in the rocking
chair by the shuttered window. “Johnny and the others will help Dam get rid of
Jean, okay?”
Just then, Bucky ran into the house, ripping his veil off and kneeling down
next to where Steve held the pup. The Omega reached out to run his fingers down
Summer’s back but his hand stopped as if hitting a wall.
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “What did Jean do to compel you? What did she say?”
Bucky whimpered and shut his eyes, “she said I was forbidden to touch her . .
.” his tone was defeated and shamed.
“Is she still outside?” Steve asked.
Nodding, Bucky answered, “Johnny, T’Challa, and Sam got her pinned down.” He
let his hand drop and he hung his head.
Nodding, Steve rose from the chair. “Come with me, Bucky? We’ll get this
compelling lifted.” But rather than head for the field and Jean, Steve carried
the pup upstairs.
Bucky slowly rose to his feet and followed his Alpha up the stairs, his eyes
still focusing on the floor, looking defeated.
Speaking, explaining for Bucky as much as for Summer, Steve said, “an elder,
like Jean, may compel or order a youth from another clan. It is not permitted
unless someone’s life depends on it. However, when the emergency is over, the
sire of the youth may remove the order. Peggy can remove Jean’s order.” He
offered his mate a gentle smile. “Though I can try if you’d like?”
The Omega continued to look down, his voice was small when he spoke, “I’d like
it if you could try first?”
Nodding, Steve stopped on the top step. He placed Summer on the floor between
himself and Bucky. Lifting Bucky’s chin, he looked directly into his mate’s
eyes and, in his commanding Alpha tone, said, “I release you from all orders,
Omega. You did good.”
Bucky blinked and felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders;
kneeling down, the Omega picked up his pup and kissed her damp cheeks. Trying
to hold back his own tears, Bucky continued to cuddle and kiss his daughter,
whispering sweet praises and words into her ear.
Smiling wide, Steve nodded. “See, Summer? A sire can break the order when the
emergency is over. Peggy must have convinced Nat to give me back my sire
control once you became a youth and we had our counseling, Buck.”
Summer wrapped her tiny arms around Bucky’s neck and buried herself into her
Dam’s chest, breathing in his naturally sweet scent.
The sounds of the others entering the farmhouse came to the trio on the top of
the steps. Riley’s voice could be heard greeting them before he led the
attackers up the stairs. Johnny grinned widely. “Jean expresses her apologies
for misunderstanding your bond, Dam Rogers. She would give them herself, but
she had an urgent meeting with the council. I believe she wanted to ‘rip them a
few new ones,’ as she put it.”
Bucky’s jaw ticked and he didn’t offer Johnny a smile, simply a nod and then
turned back to comfort his upset pup.
“She also explained that the council originally granted you custody but they
recently told her they felt you were endangering the pup with your rogue clan
status.” Johnny seemed inordinately happy with that news. “She plans to tell
them off. She’s older than most of the clan members, except Ororo Summers and
Erik Maximoff, both of whom were on your side last you met them.”
The Omega stood up without a word, still cradling Summer in his arms, and
walked away from everyone.
“And,” Johnny called after Bucky, “she said she will prevent anyone other
vampyres from hunting your new clan down . . . and her name was supposed to be
Rachel.”
“Good to know,” Bucky called back before he slipped into the bedroom.
Steve thanked the others for their intervention and hurried after his mate,
following him into the bedroom. “Her name is Summer,” he insisted softly.
“We know that,” Bucky growled gently, his hand continuing to rub soothing
circles on the, still whimpering, pup’s back. He bounced her gently and shook
his head, “but the council seems to think otherwise.”
“The council can go to hell,” Steve growled. He wrapped his arms around his
mate and pup. “They permitted the adoption and they will never revoke it. We
won’t let them. How dare they break the laws without reason or rhyme?”
“Law does not count for me, Steve, never has . . . never will,” Bucky sighed
and pressed his lips to Summer’s temple.
Softly, Steve answered, “this is the second vampyre to track us down.” He
guided the pair to the bed and had Bucky sit down.
Sitting on the edge, Bucky nodded and looked up at Steve; the pup was already
beginning to fall asleep under her dam’s gentle caresses, “I know, Steve . . .
but - - we can’t move again . . .”
“Where would we go? I know we can’t move. I was commenting, not preparing for a
move, baby doll. Perhaps we need a watch or . . .” he sighed and ran his hand
through his blond hair, which was getting longer. “I don’t know. I feel
powerless sometimes.”
Noticing his pup’s limpness in his arms, Bucky stood back up and walked out of
the room and into the nursery. Two and a half year old Ava stood in her own bed
and smiled sleepily at her Dam. “Hello, my love,” Bucky whispered and set
Summer down on her bed, kissing the pup’s forehead before moving to kiss Ava’s,
“go back to sleep, Ava . . . all is well.”
“Kevin cried,” she reported in her sweet baby voice.
Bucky looked over at the resting Kevin and nodded; he still felt odd emotions
about the little boy. He could never get past the fact that the pup was Riley’s
and Steve’s . . . even if Sam was listed as the boy’s sire . . . Bucky would
always know.
The little boy opened wide grey eyes and stared quietly at Bucky, fingers
creeping into his mouth.
Turning back to Ava, Bucky ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top
of her head, “rest now, little one, do you need your lullaby?”
Nodding, Ava settled back into her bed and smiled at her dam. “Yes,” she said
definitely.
The Omega nodded and brushed his hand over her face as he began to sing the
lullaby. His soft voice carried soothingly throughout the entire room.
Eventually Ava, and Kevin, drifted off to the sweet song Bucky sang.
Bucky kissed Ava’s forehead one more time before straightening and walking out
of the room on his quiet footsteps.
Riley stood in the hall. He smiled at Bucky. “The girls settled?” He never
pressed Bucky where it concerned Kevin.
Sighing, Bucky ran a shaky hand through his hair and nodded, “yeah . . . Kevin,
too, he’d woken up . . .”
“Thank you,” Riley lay a hand on Bucky’s arm. “He likes your lullaby. They all
do.”
Giving his friend a small smile, Bucky took a deep breath and simply wrapped
his arms around Riley, burying his face into the crook of the blond’s neck.
Riley held him close, breathing, enjoying the feeling of the other man in his
arms. He didn’t say anything . . . what needed saying, after all? It was
unspoken that the entire Strange clan would have sought out Summer and brought
her back if Jean had successfully taken the pup.
Nuzzling the other Omega’s mate mark, breathing in his unique scent, Bucky
pressed himself closer to Riley’s body, his own trembling violently.
Very softly, Riley asked, “do you need Omega love today, my love?”
Nodding, Bucky whimpered and keened against Riley’s skin, lapping and nipping
gently.
Taking Bucky’s hand, Riley smiled and tugged him gently towards the small
bedroom attached to the nursery, often called a nanny’s room or governess’s
room. This small space had been set aside for the Omegas to love one another if
they didn’t feel like having their Alphas involved. No one in the clan
questioned the odd double-pairings; they merely accepted that it was one more
thing this new clan allowed.
Bucky rutted against Riley, “please . . . Riley . . . want you . . .” he
breathed and ran his fingers under the hem of Riley’s shirt.
Stripping quickly, Riley smiled softly for his lover. “Do you want to be Alpha
or should I?”
“I want you in me,” Bucky gasped and lapped at one of the blond’s nipples, his
left hand trailing down to caress Riley’s inner thighs. “Please? Fuck me like
no Alpha can . . .”
Whimpering in need, slick running freely, Riley merely nodded and gently
lowered Bucky to the bed, the two Omegas facing one another. “I will fill you,
my love, so full you will sleep content until night.” He reached between
Bucky’s legs to caress the taint then the puckered flesh beyond.
Arching his back off the bed, Bucky mewled and let his eyes close; slick ran
readily from his opening.
“Touch me, my love,” Riley cooed. “Guide me into you. Join us together, my
precious Omega.” He held himself lined up, but waited for Bucky to take over.
Keening, Bucky wrapped his arms around Riley and thrust down to impale himself
with the blond’s member. Gasping as the tip breached his tight entrance, he
rolled his hips to take more of the length. “Please . . . Alpha-Omega . . .
please . . .” Bucky pleaded, his eyes opening to look up at Riley, his pupils
blown, leaving only a thin sliver of pale blue.
“So beautiful when you want me,” Riley praised and slid in, slowly but all the
way, bottoming out. He paused a moment to kiss Bucky’s plush lips, nipping at
the lower lip gently.
Bucky moaned and carded his fingers through the hair on the back of Riley’s
scalp, his metal hand trailed down the blond’s spine, the gears whirring and
shifting with the movement. “Yes . . . yes, Alpha-Omega . . . fill me . . .
love me . . .”
Nodding once, smile dropping to a look of intense concentration, Riley slid
back, almost completely out of his lover then snapped his hips to embed himself
fast, hard, and deep. He didn’t build up to the intense actions, rather he
maintained the hard pace right from the first stroke.
The pace left the brunet breathless and mewling under Riley; he clawed at the
blond’s back, undoubtedly leaving marks. Bucky met the brutal thrusts, pushing
Riley even deeper. He threw his head back against the pillows and moaned again,
“yes . . . Riley - - yes . . . dominate me . . .”
“You are mine,” Riley growled possessively. “You will take everything I give
and better not let a drop spill. I want you to keep it inside.” Riley nipped at
Bucky’s neck, slamming into his lover again and again, curling his hands to
scratch and tug at Bucky’s skin.
Loving the dominance that Riley rarely let show, Bucky groaned and nodded,
“yes, your’s, Riley . . . fill me with your cum, sir . . . wanna keep all you
give me . . .”
The vampyre on top, in the Alpha position, continued to pound into his
submissive partner until his hips began to stutter. “Ready to take it, Omga?
Take all of it?” he growled in warning.
“Yes . . please, sir . . . please . . . gimme everything,” Bucky whimpered, his
own untouched member leaking and purple against his abdomen, aching for
release.
“And you aren’t allowed to cum,” Riley ordered before thrusting hard and deep
and moaning, his load shooting out, hot and deep, to coat Bucky’s passage with
thick ropes of white cum.
Bucky gasped and keened, canting his hips in order to seek friction against
Riley’s body to soothe his aching erection. “Yes . . . thank you, sir . . .”
The brunet Omega flashed Riley a smile and moaned again, shooting his own load,
despite Riley’s orders not too. They didn’t play this game very often . . . but
when they did, Bucky tried to push it further and further each time.
It took several long moments before Riley’s member pulled from Bucky’s passage,
spilling seed and slick with it. Looking down, Riley shook his head. “You made
a mess, Omega. Now you need to be punished.”
“Yes, sir . . . been bad . . .” Bucky whimpered.
“You let my seed touch the bed,” Riley complained. “I thought you said you
would keep it inside. And you made a different mess when you were told not to.”
“I’m sorry, sir . . . you just felt sogood . . . I couldn’t help it . . .”
Bucky rutted against Riley, his chest heaving with excitement.
“I felt good enough that you just wasted my seed?” Riley frowned, though his
eyes danced. “And what kind of punishment should such a bad boy get, Omega?”
“I’ll take whatever punishment you deem fit, sir . . .” Bucky’s plush lips
curled into a wicked, seductive smile.
“You think this is a game, Omega?” Riley growled. “You think this is play?” He
sat back on his heels. “Turn over. You’re getting a spanking.”
Scrambling to follow the order, Bucky got on his hands and knees, presenting
himself to Riley, more cum and slick running from his stretched entrance.
“Oh, look at the dirty boy,” Riley growled. He reached beyond Bucky for the
drawer of the nightstand. Pulling it open, he pulled out a large smooth metal
penis and rubbed it along Bucky’s passage, coating it with slick. “I think you
need filling while I spank you.”
Bucky moaned and let his head drop, the brunet locks long enough to fall and
somewhat hide his face. He fought to keep his hips still, his legs trembling
and his member once more beginning to fill and twitch with anticipation.
“I’m going to shove this deep into your belly, Omega,” Riley growled and
proceeded to slide the large object, cold but slick, past the ring of muscle,
not stopping until it met the wide flange, preventing it from being lost inside
the man. “And now, your punishment,” Riley promised, beginning to softly caress
Bucky’s ass cheeks.
Sweat misted the stimulated Omega’s skin and he thrust back to push into the
blond’s hands, mewling and groaning as the large object inside of him brushed
against his prostate.
Smoothing the cheeks, Riley suddenly gave a hard swat to the right globe then a
double swat, equally hard, to the left. He began to soothe once more, letting
Bucky feel the sting. Every couple of seconds, he repeated a similar punishing
blow or two, drawing heat and a dull redness to the area, the flesh beginning
to sting and ache with even the soothing caress, leaving the large metal penis
embedded in his lover, pushing it back inside fully as it slid out a bit once
in awhile.
Bucky moaned at the stinging heat; with each hit that Riley dished out, he
groaned and hissed, his member painfully hard once more. His thighs quivered
and he panted, sweat dripping from his brow.
“You ready, Omega?” Riley suddenly breathed.
“Yes . . . please . . .” Bucky groaned, his voice low with lust.
“Good, turn over and lay on your back. Do not lose that penis or you will
regret it.” Riley sat back on his heels once more.
Clenching down on the large metal object imbedded in him, Bucky rolled over and
hissed again as his reddened ass brushed against the bedding.
Giving Bucky only a moment to adjust, Riley knee-walked over his body and slid
onto his waiting member. Riley hissed out at the feel of being filled by his
lover. “I’m gonna ride you hard and put you up wet, Omega.” He began to thrust
down and lift up, his pace as brutally hard and fast as it had been when he’d
entered Bucky earlier.
Bucky’s head fell back against the pillows and he concentrated on keeping the
metal object inside him. He’s veins felt like fire rushed through them, the
sensations of being filled while at the same time filling Riley, plus the
pleasant burn of his bruised ass rubbing against the sheets with each and every
movement, brought the brunet close to orgasm once more.
Leaning back, planting his hands on the bed on either side of Bucky’s legs,
Riley continued to ride hard, but his new position allowed Bucky to drive
deeper. “C’mon, Omega, pound me hard. I wanna feel you for a week!” he growled.
Keening, Bucky gripped Riley’s hips and began to thrust into him, harder and
faster than he’d ever gone before.
A loud, surprised keen broke from the other Omega, blue eyes widening in shock,
mouth dropping open so the sound turned into a low huffing groan. Throwing his
head back, Riley matched Bucky’s rhythm and grunted over and over, “fuck me,
fuck me,” the coarse words unusual for the gentle lover.
Bucky moaned and his hips stuttered, he thrust all the way in before losing
himself over the edge for the second time in less than twenty minutes.
Riley came practically at the same time Bucky did, a physical show of what was
happening deep in his own passage, white, hot jets coating their bodies in a
second layer of cum. He continued to hold himself on his arms, stretched back
in an arching posture. “God, Bucky . . . my previous love . . . my Omega’s
Omega . . .” he whimpered in a satisfied, wrecked voice.
The brunet panted and his limbs were trembling as his blown, pale eyes, half
lidded, looked up at Riley. His passage still firmly clenched around the object
Riley had put into him.
Catching his breath, Riley eased off Bucky’s lap and bent over his lover. He
eased the metal penis from Bucky’s passage, careful, murmuring encouragement,
“let it go, Omega. Relax now. Almost out.”
Bucky mewled and let his body relax; he raised his eyes to stare at the
ceiling, his breathing still coming out in rough, heavy pants. His cheeks were
flushed with release and his left arm whirred and recalibrated erratically with
the over-stimulation.
Shaking, Riley headed to the wash station to wet cloths then came back to wash
his spent lover. He cleaned himself then eased Bucky to a standing position,
guiding him to the rocking chair he kept in there for restless nap times. Riley
helped his lover to sink carefully onto the soft cushion before going back to
strip the bed and remake it with clean linen. He then thoroughly cleaned their
toy and placed it back in the night stand. Turning, Riley made his way to kneel
before Bucky and lay his head on the other man’s knee. “Did you like the new
toy, Bucky?” he asked softly.
Breathing finally starting to come back under control, Bucky hummed and nodded
slowly, “yes, sir . . . I loved it . . .”
“And was the beating too hard? I was afraid to draw energy if I continued, but
you sounded so sexy.” Riley looked up with a soft smile.
Bucky’s lips twitched into a tired smile and he shook his head, “I loved my
deserved punishment, sir . . . thank you . . .”
Nodding, Riley lay his head back down, careful not to jostle Bucky against the
pillow, as he was sitting on his abused ass. Petting Bucky’s thigh carefully,
Riley sighed in contentment. “I feel full and thrumming. I can only imagine how
you feel, Omega.” Riley never questioned why sometimes his lover felt the need
to take a beating, especially this session. He merely provided what he sensed
Bucky needed, what Steve was too worried to provide, it seemed.
Humming again, Bucky nodded and ran his fingers through Riley’s hair, “I feel
great . . . thank you . . . sometimes - - sometimes I just need to get outta my
head, ya know?”
“I will always take care of my Omega. Give him what he needs,” Riley promised
softly, letting his eyes close. It was unusual for the pair to make love in the
middle of the day. “I love being the one to draw you out, Bucky.” He was
especially thankful that their Alphas supported this odd love they held for one
another. They were truly blessed with a love for one another as well as a
strong love for their own mates.
Bucky’s eyes closed and within moments the brunet had fallen asleep, his head
drooping in an uncomfortably looking way.
Riley rose to his feet and carefully stood Bucky up to walk him to the bed.
Disturbing the other Omega as little as possible, Riley guided Bucky to lie
down then joined him, snuggling close under the comforter.
At dusk the worried whimper of one of the pups came to them through the thin
door. Riley instantly opened his eyes. He eased from Bucky’s arms and pulled on
his trousers before going into the great nursery to tend Daniel, one of Clint
and Natasha’s twins. He was often the first to awaken and the last to sleep.
Fortunately, Clint was an attentive dam as he quickly hurried in as if cued.
Riley passed the little boy to his dam and moved to check his own pups,
Nathaniel and Kevin.
Bucky groaned sleepily and nuzzled the pillow, he curled up tighter and pulled
the comforter higher up over his torso.
Steve’s steps soon joined those of others coming into the nursery to tend their
pups. The Alpha didn’t come disturb his mate, merely letting Bucky have his
five minutes without asking. He scooped up Summer with a kiss and cuddle then
Ava, his large arms apparently made for holding pups securely.
Summer smiled sleepily at her sire, tiny hands reaching up to grab at the
Alpha’s beard.
Chuckling, running the beard over her cheek, Steve let some energy go into the
touch, feeding the girl her first energy since the midday fright. “Wanna go
downstairs and feed, Summer Bug?”
“Where’s Dam?” Summer yawned and nuzzled Steve’s chest. Not that either pup
preferred one parent over the other, however Summer usually stayed close to her
dam while Ava, already proving to be a rambunctious little girl, liked to be
with her sire.
“Dam?” Steve looked to the little nanny’s room. “In his little room, sleeping.”
Steve smiled at Summer. None of the adults put the same taboo as humans did on
understanding relationships, sexual or otherwise. As far as the pups would see,
growing up, Bucky and Riley loved one another, which was great. While Bucky and
Steve, and Sam and Riley also loved one another, which was also great. Vampyres
lived such long lives, yet died such brutal deaths, that multiple lovers were
only a problem for the younger, newer vampyres. The older one got, the more
accepting of multiple partners a vampyre often was. It was a lesson Bucky was
already learning.
“Dam was sad . . . he’s not sad anymore?” Summer asked, rubbing her eyes with
another yawn.
“Yes, he was,” Steve agreed. “But Riley made him happy again. You now, Riley
always makes everyone happy.” The gentle man carried his girls from the room.
“Do we feed first or visit Winnie first?” he asked his older pup, still
allowing energy to flow gently into the pair of girls.
“I wanna see Winnie, Sire . . .” Summer nodded, her green eyes beginning to
shine as she woke up.
“Then let’s visit your sister, girls.” He carried both pups down to the tomb
they had made for their two deceased clan members: Winnie and Pietro. Standing
in front of Winnie’s small vault, Steve set both little girls on their feet and
squatted down. “Winne was about your age, Summer,” he told the story every time
they visited. “So you would have been twins, in a way, if she had lived. She
was beautiful but was missing part of her body and so couldn’t survive no
matter how much we loved her. So now she plays in the Eternal Fields waiting
for her sisters to join her when they are venerable.”
“Why does Dam never come visit Winnie with you, Sire?” Summer asked innocently
as her hand reached out to pat the carved stone, her vibrant eyes looking
intently at the marker.
“Because Dam visits with Winnie at his own time in his own way. He misses
Winnie so much, it still hurts. It’s the same with you and with Ava. If either
of you were taken from him, it would break his heart. He loves you so very
much.” Steve stroked the pup’s beautifully fire-colored hair.
Summer patted Winnie’s stone as one would pat a child and said sweetly, “hi,
Winnie. Sire says you are my twin . . . he says you are runnin’ in the fields .
. . I like to run, too!” The little pup had a sweet smile on her face, her
green eyes sparkling.
Steve stroked her hair again. He smiled at the tiny vault. “Hello, my love,
Winnie. Rest well.”
Looking up at her sire, Summer smiled and said, “are we gonna have any other
sisters? Will they like to play in the fields, too? We can all catch
butterflies!”
Steve sighed. “What? All the pups in the nursery aren’t enough for you, Miss
Greedy?” he teased lightly. “Your dam can’t have more pups. He was hurt
defending our house and clan. When he was hurt, his wound was so bad, it
stopped him from having more pups, which makes Dam very sad. He wanted to be
able to have more pups, too.” Steve scooped both girls up.
Summer’s face scrunched up in confusion, “why would someone hurt Dam so bad?
That’s not very nice . . .”
“No, not everyone is nice, Summer, Ava. Some are very mean and will hurt you.
Others are nice and will be friends. It takes a wise vampyre to figure out the
mean from the friendly.” He carried the pups back towards the large kitchen-
dining area, used more for community pup feedings than other activities since
only the humans really needed to cook anything.
Bucky shuffled into the kitchen, still looking half asleep; he placed a kiss on
each of his pup’s forehead before pressing his lips to his mate’s, “evenin’,
Stevie . . .”
Smiling, Steve moved his mouth to capture Bucky’s. Breathing into his mate’s
lips, Steve said, “morning, Omega love.”
Humming happily, Bucky sat on one of the stools and took Summer from Steve’s
arms to place on his lap. The pup beamed widely as she wrapped her arms around
his neck as she fed off the energy that her dam gave her. “Sire took us to see
Winnie! He says she’s runnin’ in the fields!”
Steve sank onto a chair and somehow flipped Ava over so that she draped down
over his shoulder, legs in the back and face down near his belly. He used his
strong hands to hold her in place and he grinned behind his beard at her
squeals.
“He did?” Bucky questioned with a small smile, “I am sure Winnie loved the
company.” He bounced Summer gently.
“Yeah! I wanna go catch butterflies, Dam! Can we go catch butterflies? Please?”
Summer pleaded, her eyes wide and mouth pulled into a wide smile.
“Not tonight, they’re all sleeping,” Steve interrupted. “But, if you behave,
one of us can take you out tomorrow if the weather holds.”
Summer turned a pout onto Steve, “but I wanna go now . . . we can wake the
butterflies up!”
“Is it fair to pull the butterflies from their beds?” Steve asked.
Crossing her tiny arms in front of her chest, Summer sank onto Bucky’s lap and
her pout deepened slightly, “no . . . but I wanna play, Sire!”
“I know you wanna play. Maybe if you’re really good, Clint will take you out
tonight for a run with him. He loves to run at night.” Steve glanced to Bucky
with a soft near-hidden smile. “Maybe even Dam will join in . . . if you’re
good.”
Turning wide, hopeful eyes to her dam, Summer squealed, “you’ll run with me?
You never run with me and Clint!”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed in a playful glare to his mate before softening to look
at his pup, “if you’re good . . . I’ll go out with you tonight, okay?”
Steve’s smiled widened further. He bounced Ava on his shoulder and she giggled
down near his belly. “I seem to have a tummy-giggle?”
Summer squirmed out of Bucky’s hold and climbed down from the stool as she saw
Riley come down with his pups, “Riley! Can Kevin and Nathaniel play?” She
seemed to have excess energy, making her bounce on her feet.
Riley paused, looking thoughtful, then answered, “they are both capable of
playing, yes, thank you for asking, Summer.”
Steve chuckled. “I think that means ‘yes,’ Summer.”
Riley nodded. “It means ‘yes, Summer’,” he confirmed.
Squealing, Summer grabbed Kevin’s hand and pulled him towards the designated
playing room off the kitchen, “c’mon, Nathaniel! Come play!”
Ava climbed down from Steve’s shoulder to join her older sister and her
friends, Kevin allowing the enthusiastic Summer to pull him wherever she
desired. Nathaniel turned around to follow his friends into the other room
where blocks, coloring supplies, and other various toddler toys were kept.
Bucky sighed and rested his head on his hand, letting his eyes close again as
he listened to the sound of the pups playing.
“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked softly, reaching over to trace a gentle hand down
Bucky’s cheek.
Eyes snapping open, Bucky hummed and leaned into Steve’s touch, “I’m great,
Stevie . . . just wakin’ up.”
Laughing, Steve fed Bucky a sudden jolt of energy right into his temple, almost
like a shot of caffeine. “How’s that?” he murmured.
Straightening, Bucky blinked and gave his mate another smile, he’d never felt a
jolt of energy like that before. “What was that? And why have you never done
that before?” Bucky’s eyes were wide.
“Well, normally you ask for five more minutes, so I always thought you wanted a
gentle, quiet wake up. That small sharp dose is the equivalent to a morning
coffee by humans. It’s just something that wakes the brain up a bit,” Steve
chuckled softly, eyes dancing at his little surprise for his mate.
Bucky leaned forward to kiss Steve, his tongue swiping against the blond’s
lower lip. “I do love you, Alpha.”
“And I love you, Omega,” Steve leaned in to kiss back. “Feeling more up to that
run you sort-of got suckered into with Summer and Clint? If you must know, I
always follow them at a distance.”
The Omega groaned and let his head fall back, “you know how much I despise
running,” the brunet, after being freed from Hydra, usually liked to take
things at a slow pace; he didn’t like to feel rushed or hurried. He knew Steve
and Sam went on their runs every night around the property, but the Omega
usually denied their offers to join, the exercise too close to his forced
training while with Hydra; Pierce’s voice always shouting at him to push
harder, run faster.
“And so you continually deny our pup the joy of her dam joining her on her
nightly runs. Bucky, you should give it a try, at least once. Summer’s running
and your’s might be two vastly different concepts.” Steve beamed, a wicked
twinkle in his eyes.
“Well, I kinda gotta go now, don’t I?” Bucky pouted softly and narrowed his
eyes on Steve.
Clint trotted down the steps and into the vast dining area they called the
kitchen. “Hey,” he said, a lazy smile on his face, but his blue-grey eyes ever
alert.
Bucky groaned and let his head thump against the counter, not hard, but enough
to have the sound echo through the room.
“Huh, I didn’t think I still had that effect on people,” Clint said, sounding
slightly impressed.
The brunet groaned again but didn’t lift his head.
Steve chuckled. “He’s upset because he was volunteered to go on a Summer run
with you.”
“Oh?” Clint snorted with laughter. “That should be twice as fun then. I look
forward to it.”
Turning his head to glare at his Alpha again, Bucky grumbled, “you are cruel,
Alpha . . .”
“Oh, no I’m not,” Steve laughed outright. “You have to give it a chance before
you can say that.” Raising his voice he called, “Summer! Guess who’s come
downstairs!”
The sound of little feet running through the house echoed to the men in the
kitchen; Summer beamed brighter when she saw Clint, “good night, Clint!”
“Good night, little bug-pup,” Clint said back, voice carrying laughter. “Ready
to show your dam what a real run is like?”
Nodding frantically, Summer grabbed Bucky’s left hand and tugged on the metal
limb, “c’mon, Dam! Let’s go!”
“Should we bring the rest of the litter with us?” Clint offered.
Summer shrugged as she managed to get the grumbling Bucky off the stool and she
continued to drag him towards the door, “I don’t care . . . c’mon, Dam!”
“Okay, looks like your first run is a private one, Bucky,” Clint laughed.
“Let’s go.” And the other youth tagged Summer across the back as he ran past,
not enough to hurt or make her stumble, but there was no denying what he’d
done. “You’re it!” Clint bound from the house and into the vast yard, tumbling
and spinning, darting one way then another, much like a canine playing catch-
me-if-you-can.
Squealing, Summer let go of Bucky’s hand and darted out after Clint, her
contagious laughter trailing throughout the large field.
Steve grinned at Bucky. “If you don’t hurry, you might lose them. Their games
tend to rove all over.” He picked up his own pace to keep an eye on the playing
pair. Obviously ‘run’ was a loose term for playing wildly, tumbling, and
generally goofing off when it pertained to Summer and Clint. Then again, how
anyone could think to use a disciplined idea like running in the same thought
as Clint Romanov was almost laughable.
Shaking his head, a smile on his face, the brunet ran out into the field and
scooped up Summer from behind, the pup screaming merrily on the way up.
Riley smiled and turned to Natasha. “Care to bring the rest of the pups out for
the play?” he asked.
Natasha shrugged and opened the door wider; in her loud voice, she called, “who
wants to play?”
Her son Daniel was instantly at her side with a grin of pure Natasha-mischief.
“Me,” he growled softly and darted out the door into the night-darkened, star-
lit field. The other pups, and almost all of the rest of the household, hurried
to join the big game of tag turned wrestling play.
A small, thin, girl with large brown eyes and medium blond hair stumbled as she
passed her sire. Wade followed closely behind his daughter, Ellie, a joyous
smile on his face.
Peter laughed as he joined in the tumble play, as acrobatic as the little ones.
He’d been gaining strength daily in the last three years and it showed in his
whipcord strong body. In fact, since joining Steve’s eclectic household over
the years, each of the members had seemed to strengthen and grow in their own
way, even Bruce . . . who was more sociable since arriving two years prior.
Small, almost delicate Kevin stumbled as he passed Bucky, landing on his hands
and knees. He sat down and brushed his scraped hands against his trousers,
frowning but not crying. Light maroon energy smeared his clothes from his
palms.
Kneeling down in front of the injured pup, Bucky brushed his flesh hand over
the scrapes and pushed healing energy into them, “you alright, Kevin?”
The little blond boy with the wide grey eyes smiled up at Bucky and nodded.
“Thank you, Bucky,” he said softly and pushed back to his feet to join the
playing pups and adults once more.
Clint grabbed Summer up and spun her around. “I caught It! I win!”
Summer laughed wildly as Clint spun her.
Riley, stopping beside Bucky to watch, laughed. “He seems almost rough with
her, but he holds her secure.” Riley smiled at his lover and friend.
Nodding, Bucky stood back up, brushing his pants off as he watched Clint and
Summer interact with a smile on his face.
“I believe Clint is right, though.” Riley continued to smile and watch the
large group at play. “No matter their origins, that is one giant litter.”
Bucky laughed and nodded, “we are all one family.”
Nodding, Riley turned his smile up to Bucky and reached over to stroke a lock
of hair from Bucky’s eyes. He straightened and kissed Bucky’s cheek softly. “I
wouldn’t have it any other way, Bucky.” Riley turned his eyes back to the
group, following the sight of Sam carrying Nathaniel as if the boy were flying
on his own, much to the pup’s delight.
***** Of Trauma and Escape *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Chapter Notes
     Warning: RAPE. beating, violence
Bucky walked in between Riley and Clint; he leaned against Riley as they
continued to talk about life on the expansive property. They’d been walking
into the evening, and they’d managed to travel a few miles away from the
farmhouse.
Smiling softly, Riley let himself lean into Bucky as well, enjoying the
sensation of touching and being with the other man. He did worry about the real
reason he’d persuaded Bucky to walk with him, but this time he looked for a
more delicate way to discuss the sensitive topic of the pup growing in his
womb. Riley dreaded a repeat of the last time he’d been pregnant. This time the
pup’s wasn’t Steve’s, at least, but it certainly wasn’t Sam’s, either.
Fortunately Sam hadn’t minded last time or this time; he was a supportive,
loving mate who just liked seeing Riley happy, for which Riley was ever
thankful.
Clint for once seemed content to meander slowly with the pair of other Omegas,
enjoying the night air and the spring weather.
Bucky froze and his whole body stiffened as his head snapped up to look around,
pale eyes flashing with bright gold. He’d heard a rustle in the treeline to
their right and could’ve sworn he’d smelt the terrifying smell of marigolds.
Metal fingers twitching slightly by his sides, the soft whir of the gears
audible in the still spring air, Bucky scanned the treeline, trying to find the
telltale sight of shifting shadows.
Clint and Riley came to a sudden stop at nearly the same time as Bucky, a shade
behind him. The pregnant Riley sniffed the air and hissed, “musky death.
Vampir.”
Clint stepped closer to the other side of Riley. “Can we outrun it?”
Bucky’s whole body tensed and coiled for an attack, the plates of his arm
shifted and recalibrated as he continued to watch the treeline. He knew they
wouldn’t be able to outrun the vampir, they were a hell of a lot faster than
even a Rogers.
Letting out a bird trill, eyes never leaving the treeline, Riley signaled his
mate’s falcon, Redwing, of the need to get Sam and a host of others; he missed
Snap at his side, but the falcon never recovered fully from her injuries and
could only fly limited bursts, and the fledglings she’d produced so far were
still being trained.
As if the whistle had been the signal for the vampir as well, a speeding dark
shape threw itself directly at the trio, slamming into and over Riley, knocking
the pregnant Omega to the ground. Maroon energy ran down Riley’s face from the
opened head wound he’d received in the brutal blitz attack. The vampir circled
quickly and slammed Riley a second time, as if the Wilson was the specific
target and the others worthy enough to be ignored; again, Riley hit the ground
but this time stayed down, his shoulder gouged and leaking energy.
Bucky growled and launched himself at the attacker, teeth sinking into the
vampir’s shoulder and neck, ripping frantically and attempting to bring the
assailant to the ground. He couldn’t worry about Riley right then, he had to
disable the vampir first and then he could focus on the injured vampyre.
Twisting, the vampir slammed his entire body onto the ground, with Bucky
between him and the hard surface. He used the talons on one hand to rip at
Bucky’s belly.
Screaming, Bucky continued to thrash and try to twist away from the vampir, his
metal arm slamming into the attacker’s side. He screamed through their bond for
Steve’s help, hoping his mate would hear the call and come for them. The Omega
could feel the talons sinking into his flesh, tearing the skin.
Something seemed to slip over Bucky’s head and quickly a noose tightened around
his throat, a thick metal lasso. It pulled sharp, cutting deep.
Gasping for breath, Bucky dropped his hands to try to remove the noose cutting
off his air supply. His legs kicked and scrambled in an attempt to get the
vampir off him.
As Bucky blacked out he could hear Clint fighting a second vampir, a good
reason why he hadn’t come to Bucky’s aid in the brief skirmish, but, like Bucky
and Riley before him, Clint lost his own battle fairly quickly to the unnatural
creation.
It was uncertain how much time passed before Bucky heard the faint sound of a
curious voice, almost gentle in it’s tone. “Hello? Ah, yes, you awaken. Good.”
Bucky groaned and in that moment the sudden realization that something muffled
the sound came to him. The Omega’s eyes widened in panic as he felt something
wrapping around the lower half of his face, his breath heated the cold metal
contraption around his face, making the brunet feel like he was suffocating.
“Ah, do not fear. It is a muzzle. Purely for the safety of my staff. You
understand of course. You are quite handy with your natural defenses.” The man
sounded conversational, even slightly amused. He leaned over Bucky and nodded,
lamplight catching off his wired-rimmed lenses. “As I understand, you do not
need your mouth to feed, so you will not starve to death in a muzzle. Do you
require hydration?”
The Omega lurched forward to attack the man but found his arms bound to his
sides and thick straps holding his torso and legs down. He tried to move his
left arm, hoping to be able to break the straps, but his metal arm wouldn’t
move with his commands; it stayed still no matter how hard he focused to get it
to move.
“Ah, I suppose you are attempting to use the great strength of your artificial
limb. It has been incapacitated, I am proud to say, but I do not believe any
damage is permanent. Whoever created such a beautiful work of art, Anthony
Stark I believe, can easily repair it given the chance.”
Bucky’s head craned to look around, trying to gather his surroundings: the room
was completely concrete, and it was lit only by some lanterns. He could see
both Riley and Clint chained to the wall, and his body fought against his
restraints again at the sight of his incapacitated friends. His feral growl was
muffled by the muzzle but his pale eyes flashed dangerously with bright gold as
he tried to use his strength to break free.
Nodding, as if Bucky had done exactly as the man suspected, with the prescribed
results, the short, bespectacled man smiled. “I see you are right on schedule.
I am Doctor Arnim Zola, Hydra’s greatest research scientist. I am delighted to
be able to work with such fine specimens.”
Turning a cold glare to Zola, Bucky growled again, his flesh fingers attempting
to claw at the strap closest to his right hand.
“You may try all you wish to escape, but the attempts will be futile. You might
do better preserving your strength, Mister Barnes.” Zola notated something on a
nearby sheaf of papers.
Bucky turned to look at Riley and Clint again, his pale eyes studying their
bodies; he was slightly relieved when he noticed that both were breathing and
alive.
Glancing over at the other prisoners, Zola looked back at Bucky and nodded,
smiling slightly in his oddly warm way. “Ah, concern for your companions. So,
vampyres contain a semblance of human emotions. Interesting.” He once more
notated something.
Arching his back, Bucky thrashed against the straps, his chest heaving with the
efforts and his breaths once more heating up the muzzle.
“Really, it is quite futile to fight this; however, I am fascinated by your
continued display of stamina and stubbornness.” Zola nodded and notated his
papers, eyes flashing back to observe Bucky carefully. “You may find it of
interest that you have received no lasting injuries to date. Your wounds have
been healed while you were unconscious.”
Bucky stopped fighting and collapsed against the cool surface below him; his
breathing came out in pants and he turned his glare back to the doctor.
“When you are quite ready, Mister Barnes, we will begin the first series of
experiments. We intend to discover how it is a vampyre male can become
pregnant.” Zola turned and stared pointedly to Riley, chained to the wall, head
hanging down, skin more pale than normal. The victim had been stripped, as had
Clint, and thus Riley’s pup-bump was evident.
Realizing Clint and Riley’s nudity, Bucky noticed his own and that caused the
Omega to fight even more, the straps actually beginning to strain and creak
against his efforts, his metal limb actually weighing him down as it was
completely dead weight.
“Ah, you have increased strength as well as metabolism. Excellent, Mister
Barnes. We are quite curious as to the changes wrought by becoming a vampyre.”
Zola sounded absolutely delighted as he notated the chart papers.
Bucky screamed in frustration behind his muzzle as he fell back against the
table, his golden eyes wide and staring at the ceiling above him. The door
creaked open and Bucky could immediately smell the musky scent of marigolds
which caused his breathing to pick up once more. He turned to look at the two
vampir entering the cold room, both completely naked and one of them, the one
Bucky had attacked, had silver scars covering the side of his neck and face.
The Omega fought against the straps holding him down again; he knew what was
about to happen and, like hell, would he let it happen without a fight.
“Ah,” Zola crooned, “I see you recognize Mister Rumlow, whom you marked. He has
agreed to take place in the further scientific research, as has Mister Rollins,
his life companion.”
Growling fiercely, Bucky strained against his confinement, his back arching off
the table as he managed to break the straps on his legs, with renewed vigor he
thrashed wildly, trying to break the straps across his torso.
Zola seemed unimpressed, his tone remaining calm. “I see you have regained your
strength and are quite able to participate now, Mister Barnes. Mister Rumlow,
Mister Rollins, if you need further assistance you may call your team to aid
you. We want to impregnate them all, find out how this occurs. Save the
pregnant one for my research, and the other for the females. I understand male
vampyres can become pregnant by females. However, I wish you both to work with
Mister Barnes.”
Rumlow, the scarred vampyre, grinned wolfishly at Bucky and nodded. “Right.
Hello, bitch. Remember me?”
Snarling behind the muzzle, Bucky’s eyes flashed and he kicked out, trying to
hit the approaching vampir, which elicited a laugh from Rollins. “Feisty little
bitch . . . why don’t you break him in, Brock?”
“Oh, I look forward to this,” Brock replied on a low growl, his dark eyes
growing blacker. Suddenly, Brock lashed out and slammed Bucky across the temple
with a fast, hard strike. “Behave, bitch, or I rip the kid from your friend’s
belly and find a new breeder to test.”
Stars danced behind Bucky’s eyes and the harsh hit made him dizzy, making his
attempts at hitting Rumlow stop. He could feel warm energy run down his temple,
but his eyes still narrowed at the vampir. He growled again and continued to
try and break the straps across his chest.
The vampir, Brock, reached down and unfastened the straps across Bucky’s chest
and grinned, something in his manner saying ‘I know something you don’t.’
“Gonna find a way outta here, bitch? Go ahead. Run scared rabbit.”
Instead of running, Bucky, using his increased speed, shoved himself at Brock,
but his heavy left arm made the move clumsy and off-balanced.
Brock slammed a strong arm across the back of Bucky’s neck, sending him
staggering to the floor. “Grab him, Jackie. I’m gonna fuck him hard!”
Jack was at Bucky’s side in a flash, pinning down the dazed vampyre, he looked
over to his mate and grinned, “we could always use that harness that Zola
made?”
“Oh, I like your style, Jackie.” Brock turned and strode to the wall, unhooking
a leather and chain object and carrying it back to their victim. He began
harnessing the vampyre, making sure to secure his arms, both flesh and useless
metal, behind him. Brock attached the neck of the harness to the mask, which
would cause Bucky pain if he moved too suddenly. Finally, Brock stepped back,
satisfied that the vampyre Omega was contained yet remained easily accessible
from the waist down. “Real pretty,” Brock cooed maliciously.
Much to Bucky’s horror, he let out a tiny whimper as he moved against the
harness causing a jolt of pain as the collar tugged against his throat. His
head was turned so that he looked at Clint and Riley, his golden eyes wide and
full of fear. He couldn’t break free . . . he was immobile . . . he just hoped
that his friends would stay unconscious.
Nodding, Brock forced Bucky onto his knees and face, grinning as he lined up.
“Let’s get you fat, bitch,” he growled and thrust in, dry and without pausing.
He began thrusting, ignoring his own possible discomfort from the dry burning
passage. “Damn, he’s tight! Even after years of taking that behemoth Rogers,
this bitch is still tight, Jackie. You gotta try him next!”
“Oh, I plan on it,” Rollins sneered, stroking himself at the sight of watching
his mate thrust brutally into the Omega.
Bucky’s body jolted with each rough shove and he grunted in pain as Rumlow’s
member rubbed against his dry walls, risking tearing with each and every
thrust. His knees scraped against the unforgiving floor, rubbing them raw.
Finally, Brock released his load with a grunt of pleasure-pain, ripping himself
from Bucky’s ass as soon as he’d finished emptying his balls. “Well, that
oughta make it easier for you, Jackie. I got a blond to go look over.” And the
stocky, brutal vampir stood, leaving Bucky on the floor, and headed towards
Clint and Riley, both blonds.
Rollins grinned and pushed into the cum-slicked passage of the unwilling Omega,
revelling in the pained groans the brunet made behind the muzzle. Like Brock,
the vampir wasted no time as he begun his brutal, punishing pace, one of his
hands wrapped around the back of Bucky’s neck while the other gripped his hip
so that he was able to push in deeper.
Brock stopped before Clint and grinned. “The ladies don’t need your ass, do
they?” He reached over for the unconscious vampyre and slapped his firm ass.
Bucky, seeing Brock approach Clint, lurched his body, causing Rollins to growl
and smack the back of the brunet’s head. Fearing for his friend, Bucky began to
release faked pleasured moans, trying to distract Brock from Clint.
Brock glanced over. Grinning, he ambled back over to his mate and the victim.
“Think he really likes it or is he just jealous?” Brock’s crotch was smeared
with cum and gold energy from where he’d brutalized Bucky.
Pressing into Jack’s crotch, Bucky rolled his hips and released another moan,
muffled by the muzzle he wore. If he could keep Brock and Jack’s attention on
him . . . Clint and Riley wouldn’t be hurt. He willed slick to try and ease his
passage.
A soft groan escaped from the chained prisoners by the wall, once more drawing
Brock’s attention. He grinned and trotted back over. “Well, well, waking up,
bitch?” he laughed, reaching over to touch Riley’s pup-bump. Riley jolted awake
with a scream, curling away from Brock, blue eyes wide and horrified.
Bucky looked at Riley and then rolled back against Jack, he needed to get Brock
away from Riley, causing another moan from the vampir, “shit, Brock! Maybe the
bitch wants it from both ends? Maybe he can’t get enough?”
“Or we could both shove into his ass and ride him hard,” Brock said but he
merely grinned at Riley without letting himself get distracted that time. “So,
how far along are you, slut?” he asked. “When’d you take it up the ass and get
pregnant?”
Narrowing his eyes, Riley didn’t answer, merely staring at Brock as if he
didn’t comprehend the vampir’s simple, insulting questions.
The scent of Bucky’s slick filled the room and Rollins groaned loudly, “fuck .
. . the little whore likes it!”
Grinning, Brock turned to go back to the original victim. “So, you’re ready to
take it now, bitch?” He nodded. “Jackie, get under him and thrust inside. I’ll
join you in a moment.”
Following his mate’s instructions, Jack pulled out so that he could maneuver
Bucky to ride him, the Omega’s head was forced back by the collar chained to
his bound arms.
With an approving grunt, Brock walked over and knelt behind Bucky, lining
himself up to join Jack! He grinned. “Ready, bitch?”
Bucky panted; he knew the two vampir would tear him open, but knowing he had to
protect his friends, the Omega moaned obscenely and nodded.
“His slick still coming, Jackie?” Brock panted, sniffing at Bucky’s neck under
the leather and chains.
“Oh, yeah, little slut is covered in it,” Jack answered on a moan.
“Well, I think between the two of us, we can show up that Rogers freak of
nature.” And Brock pushed his tip right up against Jack at Bucky’s entrance and
began working in brutally. “Damn, Jackie, feels good with you in there!”
The Omega screamed, his eyes squeezing shut as his passage was stretched
impossibly wide, he could feel his skin tearing and moved his legs to try and
get away. Rollins only gripped his hips and held Bucky tightly, bruising the
pale flesh. “C’mon, bitch, we know ya can take it,” the vampir growled
hoarsely.
Grinning, Brock continued to shove himself into Bucky’s passage inch by inch,
reveling in the feel of his mate already embedded balls deep. Eventually, his
member pushed over Bucky’s prostate as he finally bottomed out.
Despite the overall pain, the feeling of Brock brushing against his prostate
caused Bucky’s member to twitch. The Omega whimpered and tried not to focus on
the fact that Riley was watching this.
The over-heated, tight sensations around him drove Brock over the edge fairly
quickly; he’d never been one to last too long sexually. He let loose his
smaller load and dragged painfully out, his erection pulling against Jack’s as
Brock left the brutalized passage and sat back on his heels, panting, member
flaccid at last. “Damn fine bitch.”
Jack groaned and bottomed out, drawing another pained grunt from the Omega, as
he shot his own load into the already full passage. The vampir held Bucky
upright for a few more thrusts before letting Bucky fall to the floor as he
pulled out. Bucky’s thighs were covered in a mixture of cum, slick and golden
energy from his torn passage. Rollins stood and spat on the trembling Omega,
“there will be plenty more where that came from, bitch!”
Brock chuckled low, exhausted. He was a streamlined constructed fighter, but
sex drew his energy away almost as quickly as sunlight burned him.
“C’mon, Brock, let’s go have a nap before round two,” Jack offered his hand to
his mate.
“You know it, Jackie baby,” the scarred vampir nodded. He led his uninjured
mate from the room, twining hands with his mate and sharing surprisingly sweet
endearments with the other vampir.
Bucky continued to whimper and his eyes finally filled with tears as the vampir
left the room. His whole body trembled and he felt a deep, all-encompassing
ache in his abused passage. The muzzle made it hard to breathe and the vampyre
feared he might suffocate.
Zola finally stepped over, smoothing out his features, though disgust still
shone in his eyes. Sexual contact was a disgusting, if necessary part, of this
experimentation. “Mister Barnes, you will need tending, yes?”
Narrowing tear-washed eyes onto the doctor, Bucky managed to growl low; despite
his injuries he still felt the need to fight.
“I will grant you one of your friends to aid you, but the other will receive a
beating. You choose.” Zola studied Bucky intently.
“I like beatings,” Clint’s voice rasped out, revealing he’d woken up sometime
during the double rape on Bucky. “Let the pregnant guy take care of him.”
Zola turned an interested gaze on Clint then Riley and back to Bucky.
Eyes softening to a pained gaze, the brunet Omega nodded once, agreeing to the
terms.
Zola nodded and signaled someone from the shadows, another vampir who had
remained hidden. How many others might be surrounding the prisoners undetected
was unknown. The vampir released Riley’s bindings and let the pregnant vampyre
fall to the floor. He then pushed the shaky vampyre towards Bucky. Riley
crawled over and touched Bucky’s forehead where there was no restraint. Behind
the pair, the vampir began to beat Clint with a chain, as promised; a reminder
that Zola would not hesitate to keep them all defenseless unless they
sacrificed one another.
Bucky whimpered and looked up at Riley, a single tear falling from his eyes,
expressing the pain and shame of the rape.
“My brave love,” Riley whispered and kissed Bucky’s forehead. He began to wash
the other man, utilizing equipment provided by Zola. Riley carefully bathed
Bucky’s injuries, cleaning him meticulously to prevent infection. “My
wonderful, brave, Omega. Taking our punishments for us. My beautiful Bucky.”
Riley’s every move was accompanied with gentle praise for Bucky. His every
touch fed small amounts of energy, secretively, into Bucky.
The injured Omega trembled but his wounds slowly began to heal. His chest
heaved and the muzzle felt like it was blocking his air supply. He began to
thrash against the restraints, trying to break free. He couldn’t breathe! He
was suffocating!
“Shush, my little love,” Riley soothed. “Follow my lead, Bucky. Breathe in
slowly. The mask filter will allow it. Now breathe out slowly. The slower you
breathe, the clearer your air, Bucky,” Riley’s tone stayed calm, like he
normally would be, every day, calm and quiet and accepting and nonjudgmental.
He turned Bucky’s face so he could meet the scared vampyre’s eyes. “Breathe
with me, love. Slow. In and out.”
Bucky followed Riley’s lead, breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm
himself down. He wanted Steve. He wanted his Alpha. He wanted to be at the
farmhouse, watching Summer chase butterflies and Ava mold unintelligible
creatures out of Steve’s clay. He needed Steve. He needed his Alpha.
Zola wrote down on his pages, sounding quite interested. “Vampyres seem to be
communal family units rather than monogamous mated pairs.” He nodded. “You may
stop beating Mister Barton, please. We do not wish to incapacitate him, merely
provide incentive for cooperation.” As the vampir with the riding crop backed
off, Zola nodded, noting something to do with Clint’s beating, the thin welts
and opened wounds leaking green energy; Clint’s head hung down, eyes closed in
pain and exhaustion though he had never once cried out.
Watching Riley, Bucky’s flesh hand twitched, starting to go numb from the
uncomfortable position.
“May I unbind his arm, sir?” Riley asked, his voice soft, humble, respectful.
He didn’t sound like a defiant victim so much as a chastised child. It seemed
to work, however.
Zola nodded. “Of course. We shall have to strap him to his table once more. I
have yet to finish my exam of the scar patterns on his abdomen.” The man
stepped over to assist Riley in putting Bucky back on the bed then the
scientist unhooked something on the harness and strapped Bucky’s legs then
torso down, pulling his arms free to dangle at his sides.
Watching Zola warily, Bucky drummed his fingers against the table, trying to
get feeling back into them. He didn’t want to know what would happen to him
once Zola figured out that he was sterile. That he’d never get pregnant.
Finally, Zola looked over. “Mister Barnes, do you need hydration, please?” he
asked one of his original questions.
Shaking his head, Bucky continued to watch the doctor. His pale eyes tracking
the shorter man’s every move. He just needed to wait this out. Steve would come
for him. Steve would get them out. He just needed to survive until then.
“Better, love?” Riley asked gently, softly, stroking energy-laced fingers over
Bucky’s forehead and over his face at the edges of the mask. He slid a hand
carefully down to Bucky’s entrance, not quite touching, but let his energy seep
into and across Bucky’s brutalized passage.
Bucky’s eyes closed and he had to fight the groan of pleasure at the feeling of
the healing energy. He nodded once and forced his eyes to open so he could look
at his friend and lover. They were going to get out of this. Steve and Sam
would come for them.
“Can you feel him?” Riley asked gently. “Maybe not hear, but can you feel your
mate, my love? He gets closer. I can feel Sam getting closer, stronger. I
cannot hear him yet, but he comes for us.” The older vampyre leaned in to kiss
Bucky’s forehead once more.
The brunet Omega opened his bond more, trying to focus on his mate.
Steve’s love and determination shone through, and barely, faintly, he could be
heard calling, I come, my brave Bucky, my Omega. I am coming.
Steve! Steve! Bucky called, pushing the bond more than he’d ever done.
Bucky! Steve answered, his tone taking on a feel of relief and strong love.
Here I come, Buck. We’re coming.
Please . . . Steve . . . hurry! Bucky pleaded and looked around the room once
more, his flesh fingers gripping the strap tightly, more so to ground him than
anything else.
Talk to me, love, tell me what you need to. I feel your pain and shame. Tell me
why you feel this way, Steve encouraged.
I - - I can’t! I’m so sorry, Alpha! I didn’t want it! I didn’t! Bucky closed
his eyes again to fight the wave of tears that wanted to fall. He would not let
any of these monsters see him cry.
Steve’s tones and energy over their bond soothed, trusting, believing, of
course you didn’t want it, my precious love. Tell me what they did to you. I
will make them suffer for every pain.
Steve’s order forced the words, his shame and pain resurfacing with each one,
they hurt me, Alpha. I - - they were going to hurt Clint! I couldn’t let that
happen! They - - they hurt me at the same time . . . I’m sorry! Bucky knew the
words didn’t make complete sense, but he couldn’t say ‘rape,’ that word seemed
to burn the back of his throat, as if his body was physically unable to say
that single word.
My brave, good Omega. Protecting Clint. You are so good, Bucky. Rest now. I
will come and you will be safe. I love you, my beautiful Omega, my brave
warrior. Steve didn’t let any disappointment, anger, or other negative emotion
come over the bond, just love and pride.
The door opened again, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts, and his eyes opened
wide, fearing that the vampir had returned like they’d promised.
Zola frowned and turned to watch Alexander Pierce come into the room. The
scientist turned back to his notes, letting the Hydra leader do as he would.
Walking over to Bucky, the tall man with greying blond hair and friendly blue
eyes smiled down sadly at Bucky. “You have returned, my lost lamb.”
Bucky growled low and narrowed his eyes on the man who’d caused him so much
pain. The vampyre responsible for the death of his parents, the countless years
of manipulation, the dangerous trigger words. Alexander Pierce had turned him
into one of his mindless dogs, had lied and manipulated him to do things.
Beneath his muzzle, the vampyre snarled and bared his fangs.
Studying Bucky, Pierce nodded slowly. “I see the doctor saw need to punish you,
James. How disappointing.”
Fighting against the restraints, Bucky growled again, a menacing, threatening
noise from deep in his chest.
Stepping close, Pierce suddenly closed one very strong hand around Riley’s
throat. He never took his eyes from Bucky, however. “Temper, my pet. Wouldn’t
want to hurt your playmate.”
Bucky stopped fighting but his eyes remained a cold glare on Pierce.
“The Riley recluse,” Pierce purred at the pregnant Omega though his eyes
remained on Bucky. “Last we crossed paths was at my party when you were a
newborn. I would have thought you were a coward but for the fact that all of
those who danced with you wound up dead by the time you were a youth and
disappeared.”
Riley literally ignored Pierce, keeping his attention on Bucky. He continued to
heal his friend gently as well as feeding him energy in short caresses over
Bucky’s forehead.
Bucky’s eyes widened and they flickered to look at his friend. No wonder Riley
had so readily agreed to go after Pierce! The vampyre was the one responsible
for the blond’s rape! The brunet’s eyes flashed bright gold and he growled
again.
“Manners, pet,” Pierce chastised. “Doctor Zola is very eager to study Omega
male pregnancies. However, at the moment he doesn’t have as many test subjects
available as we’d hope. You might not like how we find the replacement.”
Looking at Riley and then at Pierce, Bucky continued to glare at the older
vampyre, but he didn’t fight or make threatening noises.
“Doctor Zola, may we speak?” Pierce finally removed his eyes from Bucky and his
hand from Riley to walk from the room, the scientist following. Several vampir,
at least four, moved restlessly in the lighter shadows.
Immediately, Riley unhooked the harness from in back of Bucky, releasing the
mask as well. He moved off to tend Clint’s injuries and check on how to release
the still chained vampyre.
Bucky breathed in the fresh air and looked around, trying to find anything he
could use as a weapon. His eyes caught on a small scalpel by the table; picking
it up, Bucky hopped off the table, only to stumble heavily to his left as the
dead weight of the metal limb dragged him down.
Glancing over, Riley frowned, torn between his friends who both needed his
help. Riley turned back to Clint to finish releasing the chains. So far the
vampir hadn’t interfere with anything the vampyres were doing, but that did not
mean the trio were home free.
Bucky awkwardly walked to Riley; his passage hadn’t completely healed and
wouldn’t until they had more time. Each step caused an agonized jolt to run up
his spine while his eyes scanned the room, trying to make out any possible
escape routes. He didn’t know which facility they were at, so he couldn’t map
an escape in his mind.
Softly, quietly, Riley asked, “Are you ready, my love? I think it’s time we
imitate Summer on her morning run. We have plenty of those to run with.” He
flicked his eyes over the vampir in the shadows then over to Bucky.
Nodding, Bucky’s jaw ticked as he answered, “yeah, let’s play.”
“I can do it,” Clint growled out.
Nodding, Riley took a deep breath and said, quite loudly, “You’re it!” And he
whirled to the shadows and slammed one of the vampir across the face with such
force the monster’s head snapped back briefly, stunning it from the unlooked
for attack. Riley took off running, spreading his wings to pull into flight.
Following Riley’s lead, Bucky hauled Clint to his feet and helped the man break
off in a run. The brunet used the sharp tool in his hand to slice at one of the
vampir, effectively opening the monster’s throat and draining it quickly of its
life source.
Clint, breaking away from Bucky, seemed to blend into the shadows like the
vampir which chased the small group. A scuffle in the shadows broke out as the
Romanov youth apparently met with at least one adversary, but he manage to
defeat the creature and continue in his shadowy passage, utilizing all the
gifts of the sneaky assassin clan, the Romanovs.
Bucky’s left arm slowed him down, making his movements jerky and awkward but
nonetheless deadly. The Omega launched himself on another vampir and shoved the
scalpel deep into its chest while his teeth ripped out the creation’s trachea,
coating his chin in thick, almost black, blood.
A sudden yelp of fear and anger came from in front of them followed by a
sickening crunching moosh noise. Someone grabbed Bucky’s left arm and hurried
him along. Clint growled softly, “don’t look back, don’t stop, don’t question.
I feel Natasha’s close.”
Nodding, Bucky broke out in a full out run, leaning heavily on his left side,
the ache deep inside him only worsened with the effort, but he couldn’t stop.
They had to get away before Pierce realized what happened.
The feeling of Steve suddenly became almost overwhelming, ahead and to the
right some ways away. Bucky? Baby doll? His mate called.
Steve! Alpha! Bucky called frantically.
We have almost found you, love! Keep moving, stay away from the enemy. I bring
help! Steve’s tone strengthened with each new sentence, each moment they closed
in on each other.
Using the mate bond, Bucky ran towards where he sensed Steve to be, however
when he turned a corner, the weight of the heavy limb threw him off balance and
stumbling into the solid concrete wall. Gasping as the forceful collision
caused another agonized jolt through his entire body, Bucky tried to keep
himself upright but the pain brought him to his knees. He coughed and
splattered his energy onto the floor beneath him. Riley’s energy had healed
only the surface injuries, his body ached and his legs felt as if they were
made of putty. He felt completely drained, it seemed as if his body was
shutting down, refusing to cooperate with the mental signals his brain was
firing out. He attempted to stand back up but the searing ripping of something
deep inside him at the movement caused the Omega to collapse once more. Alpha,
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. Bucky’s mental tone
sounded just as weak as he felt, barely a pained whisper in Steve’s mind.
Someone scooped Bucky up into trembling arms and the sensation of careening at
great speed followed. Unfettered by the limitations of the ground, Bucky flew,
without having to make any conscious effort, ears popping at the immense speed,
until the pair tumbled down at the feet of their seekers, Riley completely
spent. Clint remained left far behind by the unconscious flier.
A gentle, calloused hand covered Bucky’s heart as lips sealed over his mouth
and a fusion of pure golden energy rocked through the Omega as Steve, kneeling
over him, pushed massive energy into his mate. Come back to me, love, my
precious. Come back to me, my Bucky. Steve’s voice came strong and sure and
loving in his mind.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want it. I'm so sorry, Alpha . . . Bucky's
mental tone was stronger, but his shame and pain radiated through the bond.
Of course you didn’t want it, my brave Omega. You did what you needed to to
come back to me, to save the others. Steve reassured his mate, still feeding
him mass amounts of energy through any contact he could. And I’m going to kill
Pierce for even touching you.
Bucky shook his head, a small whimper breaking past his lips, wasn't Pierce.
Pierce never touched me . . .
Tell me who to kill, precious love, Steve asked, lifting his mouth from Bucky’s
to look down on him with worried, love-filled eyes.
The Omega’s voice cracked as he spoke out loud, “two vampir. Brock and Jack . .
. I'm sorry, Stevie . . .” Bucky's eyes filled with tears but they didn't fall.
“Don’t be,” Steve said, soft and reassuring. “You save Riley and Clint with
your actions. You came back to me.” Steve kissed Bucky’s mate-mark then his
lips. “I love you, Bucky.”
Letting out a quiet sob, Bucky closed his eyes and whispered, “I love you, too,
Steve.”
Steve scooped his mate up into strong arms and held him but didn’t restrain
him. Kissing Bucky’s lips softly again, Steve murmured, “would you like a hot
bath, my love? And some pup time?”
“Too dirty . . . Skin’s crawling . . .” Bucky whimpered, tucking his head under
Steve's chin.
“I’ll help you bathe, my beautiful Omega,” Steve murmured gently. He walked in
the opposite direction from the place the trio had been imprisoned. “You are my
brave, wonderful love, Bucky. You are everything I could ever want or need. You
defended those weaker, taking their torture yourself. My wonderful, brave,
noble mate.” Steve kept up a string of reassurances and compliments the entire
trip back to the farmhouse, even as he held Bucky carefully on his lap during
several hours in a carriage.
T’Challa turned to Sam. “He lives but is weaker than a new convert. Tend your
mate. We go find the other youth.” And he turned to lead the hunting party off,
letting Sam tend the much weakened, unconscious Riley.
Sam immediately began pushing energy into his mate, tending to the injuries
that the Omega had received, cooing gentle praises much like Steve. He kissed
Riley’s lips, his hands trailing down the blond’s chest before resting on the
pup bump.
Blue eyes fluttering open, Riley sobbed and curled around Sam, hugging him
tight in trembling arms, his strength almost spent completely from his rescue
of Bucky. “Clint . . .” he sobbed, guilt washing him for having left the other
youth behind.
“A search party is already underway, my love, they will get Clint. Rest now.
Everything will be okay,” Sam kissed the top of Riley’s head, hands rubbing
soothing patterns down the blond’s spine. “You saved Bucky, my brave mate, you
did so good.”
“Sam,” Riley sobbed before passing out in weakness once more.
Not letting go of his mate, Sam continued to transfer healing energy into the
weakened Omega. Kissing and caressing Riley’s pale skin as he murmured
reassuring praises and comments.
Leaving the injured men and their mates to retreat, T’Challa led the hunting
party at high speed in the direction the pair had flown from. He kept on watch
for Clint but couldn’t spot the missing youth. He glanced over at Natasha
beside him and asked, “can you feel him?”
Natasha nodded, her emerald green eyes flashing as she stalked the long
hallway, her footsteps could not be heard.
In a shadow, almost silent, someone huddled, only a very light rasping breath
coming once in awhile. The habit of almost successfully trying to hide pained
breaths in a dangerous situation was familiar.
Turning towards the noise, Natasha knelt down on the edge of the shadow and
gave a small, gentle smile.
Clint turned pained grey-blue eyes up at his mate, his body covered in energy
welts from the beating he’d taken. Closing his eyes, hand over his mouth, Clint
tried to breath without making noise, leaning towards Natasha.
“Come, my darling, let’s go home . . . “ Natasha offered her hand.
Before she could touch Clint, something slammed right into her from the side,
sending her sprawling. Brock dashed off further into the darkened building, the
musky scent of marigolds trailing the vampir.
Clint’s eyes shot open but he still didn’t move, even to go to his mate. He
looked terrified and miserable, hand still over his mouth, still deep in the
shadows.
Hissing, baring her gleaming fangs, Natasha quickly recovered and looked at the
retreating vampir and then back at her mate. Shaking herself, she moved back
towards the cowering figure and reached for him again.
Clint’s eyes widened in fear as she made her move and he rolled them up towards
the corner on the same side the hand across his mouth came from.
Natasha narrowed her eyes and spat, “it would be wise to let go of him.”
Suddenly, Clint was pushed so hard from the shadows he flew right into Natasha,
knocking them both sprawling, green energy splattering from his open wounds. He
whimpered and tried to roll off his Alpha, arms trembling as he pushed to his
hands and knees. Claw marks over his mouth denoted that whatever had held him
was armed with natural talons.
Natasha held her mate close and called to T’Challa, “what the hell was that?”
Her normal grace and poise was forgotten with the fear for her injured mate.
“Another vampir,” T’Challa said solemnly. “It ran after the first. And I can
hear someone else in the shadows before us. Someone I believe has been cornered
by our companions.” The Romanov male stood protectively next to his former
leader watching as Scott, Bruce, and Johnny headed deeper into the darkness.
“Your Omega has been severely beaten,” T’Challa commented.
Nodding, Natasha picked up Clint as if he weighed nothing, streaming powerful,
healing energy into him as she did so. “Do you have this handled?” She looked
to T’Challa.
“Yes, get the youth home, Natasha. We have this.” T’Challa remained between the
pair and the deeper shadows, protective, alert.
Without another word, Natasha turned on her heel and hurried out of the
compound, keeping Clint close to her. “I love you, Clint,” she whispered over
and over again.
“Were gonna beat Riley . . . raped Bucky . . .” Clint sobbed suddenly, finally
finding his voice once outside the compound. He buried his face in the strong
vampyre’s neck, entire body trembling in pain and exhaustion.
“I know, my darling, just rest now. You’re all safe. Just rest,” Natasha
stepped into one of the waiting carriages and ordered the driver to head back
to the farmhouse, as fast as he could.
Several hours later, the last of the hunters returned as the sun was beginning
to rise. They brought a prisoner or rescued victim with them, covered head to
toe in dark material and bound tightly, so the odds were that it was a
prisoner. Bruce frowned fiercely as he locked the unknown person not a small
closet with no other exits. With a growl, the newest member of their household
looked towards those nearest him. “The only one we found alive. We think some
got away.” He sank onto a chair. “He’s pretty weak right now. None of us fed
him.”
Bucky, who huddled close to Steve, looked at Bruce and in a small, meek voice
asked, “any sign of Brock and Jack?” The names burned on his tongue and caused
a shiver to run down his spine.
“No,” Bruce shook his head. “We found no vampir dead and this one’s a vampyre.”
Steve stroked Bucky’s hair carefully, not letting his mate out of his sight but
being very gentle and cautious with the traumatized man. Through his link, he’d
found out some of what transpired, but he knew Bucky was hiding a good amount
of the specifics. Steve determined to bide his time and wait; he’d find out
later. Right now just having Bucky safe would be enough.
Biting his lip, Bucky nodded once and let his eyes fall back to the floor, his
body had begun to tremble again. Brock and Jack were still out there . . .
still alive.
A soft touch on Bucky’s ankle came.
Looking over, the Omega offered a small, pained smile to his pup, Ava.
“Dam?” Ava, even at just over two, had never spoken a real word before, as if
she saved her words for important occasions.
Kneeling down, Bucky wrapped his flesh arm around his pup, his metal one still
useless, and held her close, “hello, my love,” the brunet rasped into her
golden hair, kissing the side of her head gently.
Turning her head, Ava kissed her dam’s cheek. She leaned into Bucky’s embrace
as if she wanted to be no other place than with the Omega who’d whelped her.
The brunet Omega tried his hardest not to cry; his arm shook around Ava’s small
body and his eyes squeezed shut. He breathed in the scent of his pup, letting
the familiar smell calm him slightly.
Steve petted Bucky’s hair again. “Buck? Want to talk to Tony about fixing your
arm?” His voice came out gentle.
Bucky nodded; he didn’t trust himself to speak.
Steve stood. “I’ll be with you, Buck. Ava, would you like to wait for Dam with
Johnny?” He scooped up the little pup to hand off to his eldest, who accepted
his tiny sister without comment. Steve turned and offered a hand up for Bucky.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky took Steve’s hand and let the larger man help him
up off the ground and lead him to Tony’s makeshift lab.
Tony seemed to sense that it was a bad time to make odd comments or
observations. Rather, he kept his conversation limited to the arm’s functions
as he made repairs to the gears and wires. Fortunately, the damage hadn’t been
too bad, merely strategic. Finally, he sat back and nodded. “All good, Bucky
bear.”
Bucky looked down at his left hand and made a fist, the mechanic whir filling
the room; nodding, the Omega offered Tony a small smile, “thanks, Tony,” his
voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Sure thing, Bucky. Any time.” The human inventor offered a smile to the
vampyre ex-hunter. “Just stop by whenever you want.”
Nodding, Bucky stood back up and looked to Steve, “may I go rest?”
“Of course, love,” Steve said. “I’m going to go check on our prisoner and find
out what the family wants to do. Let me know if you need or want me.” Steve
lightly dropped a kiss on Bucky’s forehead, still careful.
“Okay,” Bucky muttered and then left the room.
***** Of Recrimination and Execution *****
Chapter by samwise_baggins
Chapter Notes
     PTSD reactions, severe traumatic flashes and reactions. Deliberate
     murder.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
As soon as he was able, Bucky went into his room and immediately began to pump
water from the wash station. Once the bowl was full, the Omega grabbed a cloth
and began to scrub his skin thoroughly, frantically he scrubbed his arms and
chest, ignoring the pain that came with washing over the golden, finger-shaped
bruises that Rollins had left over his hips. He continued to wash his skin
until it was red and raw, tiny rivulets of gold energy trickled from where he’d
unintentionally ripped open some of his skin on his flesh arm. He could still
feel Brock and Jack on him, in him, tearing him open with each and every brutal
thrust; their demeaning words echoed in his mind, taunting him, pushing him to
only scrub harder. He needed to get them off, he needed to be clean. His skin
felt so dirty.
Letting out a loud sob, Bucky dropped the used cloth, smeared with gold, and
gripped the edge of the wooden wash station. In the lone sanctuary of his
bedroom, Bucky let the tears out; he sobbed, body wrenching cries as he
remembered the assault, how completely defenseless he’d been. He could feel the
muzzle on his face, blocking his air, suffocating him; they’d muzzled him like
some rabid dog.
His breathing came out in pants and he felt the suffocating feeling of the
muzzle. He couldn’t breathe! He couldn’t bring in enough air to satisfy his
lungs, and any exhale left his lungs burning and aching. Bucky clawed at his
face, trying to get the muzzle off, he could feel it! The Omega seemed unaware
that his nails scratched at his skin, drawing angry, gold marks on his cheeks.
“Bucky?” Steve’s voice warned of his entrance, and he opened the door to walk
into the room. “Whoa! Bucky!” Steve hurried over to stop his mate from the
self-harm he did. “Bucky, what are you doing?” Steve wrapped an arm around his
Omega and held him - - loosely but preventing him from clawing himself.
“Get it off! Get it off! I can’t breathe! I can’t!” Bucky wailed, his voice
panicked and pleading.
“Get what off, baby doll?” Steve asked, worry lacing his tone and eyes.
“Muzzle! Get it off! Please!” Bucky sobbed, his chest heaving and gasping.
Steve turned Bucky to the mirror and stood him there. “No muzzle. All gone,
love, all gone! See?” Steve lifted a hand and gently stroked Bucky’s cheek,
avoiding the scratches but gently infusing him with energy. “You’re free again,
my love.”
Bucky looked at his reflection, tears mixing with the small trickles of gold
energy; the Omega turned and buried himself into Steve’s chest. He continued to
sob, his hands clutching at the fabric of the Alpha’s shirt. “I’m sorry . . .
I’m so sorry . . . I - - I didn’t want it . . . I’m so dirty . . .”
“No need to be sorry, my love. You’re here now, with me. You’re free. I know
you didn’t want it, baby doll.” Steve cuddled his mate and continued to give
him praises and reassurances. “You are not dirty. You are brave to take the
abuse they wanted to give the others. Clint told us how brave you were, how you
protected him and Riley.”
“I - - I moaned like a fucking whore, Steve . . . I’m sorry . . .” Bucky’s left
fingers spasmed and gripped Steve’s shirt tighter, ripping the fabric slightly.
“And that made the vampir leave the others alone. You were clever, Bucky, doing
that. Distracting them. My brave, clever mate.” Steve kissed Bucky’s temple
gently, infusing him with each touch he could manage to get past Bucky’s
skittishness.
Bucky, for a split second, let his mind open, playing out the scene for Steve.
Letting his mate feel and experience every shameful, agonized moment of the
rape, the excruciating pain that he’d felt when Brock had entered him with
Jack. Steve needed to see how dirty, how disgusting he was. How could Steve
still want him?
Steve continued to cuddle his mate, taking the horror, the pain, the shame and
misery that Bucky offered. Steve let his beloved show him what had happened and
not once did Steve react as if Bucky was anything less than a brave, clever man
who’d protected his clan members. Finally, Steve hugged Bucky close and kissed
his temple again. “I love you. I love you more than life, my Bucky.”
Sobbing once more, Bucky lifted his face to scent at Steve’s neck, trying to
take in as much of the blond’s comforting scent as he could.
“Buck, have you ever considered what a whore does?” The subject seemed a bit
off, but Steve’s love and pride could be felt singing through their bond.
Bucky backpedaled, eyes wide and horrified. He should’ve know . . . maybe it
was right that Steve think of him as a whore.
“A whore fakes it to stay alive.” He looked down at his mate. “So if you
compare yourself to a whore, you are really telling me that you had to fake it,
Buck. Even if you didn’t know that’s what you were saying.”
The Omega’s bottom lip trembled as he took in a deep breath, his pale eyes
never left Steve’s face.
“I love you and I’m so proud of you for saving Riley and Clint from such pain.
I wish you never had to go through that, my precious Bucky, but you were brave
for doing that.” Steve traced Bucky’s face carefully. “I love you.” Steve
kissed Bucky’s temple.
“Who - - who’d they bring back?” Bucky asked quietly.
“Pierce,” Steve informed him just as quietly. “He’ll face court in front of our
clan and we’ll sentence him and carry out the sentence.” Steve lifted Bucky’s
face to meet his eyes. “We won’t wait until the elders make a move, because we
don’t trust them.”
Bucky nodded and walked over to the dresser, he took out a shirt and pulled it
over his head. “Okay . . . wh - - when’s the trial?”
“As soon as you, Riley, and Clint are up to it.” Steve sighed and smiled, glad
that Bucky seemed to be beginning to act normal again. “Do you want a feeding,
love?”
The Omega flinched, “y - - you . . . wouldn’t mind?”
Steve carefully began to undress, his movements slow and very obvious. “I would
be honored to feed you, my brave Omega. How do you want to feed? You tell me
what you want, please?”
Walking over to Steve, Bucky carefully lifted his flesh hand to run his thumb
over the Alpha’s cheek. After a moment, he leaned forward slowly to press his
lips to Steve’s; the kiss was tentative but nonetheless passionate.
Steve responded with love and passion but kept his hands light as he placed
them on Bucky’s shoulders. He wanted to show Bucky that he didn’t feel disgust
for his mate, only love and desire. Carefully, Steve began to remove his own
shirt, breathing into the Omega’s mouth, “will you let me undress you or do you
want to undress yourself, love? You choose. You always have a choice with me.”
“Undress me . . . please?” Bucky keened softly, his mouth breathing over
Steve’s lips.
“Thank you,” Steve kissed back, tone appreciative of the request. Steve pulled
back just a bit so Bucky had complete control if he wanted to stop things.
Steve undressed his mate carefully, gently, letting his fingers caress Bucky’s
skin as he did. “Do you know how much I love you, Bucky? How precious you are?
Dam of my pups? Half of my heart?”
Bucky’s fingers, the cool metal clashing with the heat of Steve’s skin, trailed
down the blond’s chest, caressing each and every part. His lips moved from
Steve’s as he peppered his Alpha’s jawline down to his neck. The movements
weren’t hurried or desperate like they might have been in the past, every kiss
was controlled, slow, gentle.
“Bucky,” Steve breathed, smiling at his lover. “Do you want me inside you or do
you want to be inside me?” He caressed Bucky’s hair, allowing his mate total
control.
“Me inside you? Or . . . if you don’t want . . . I can - - I just don’t think .
. . I’m ready for - -” Bucky’s mouth snapped shut, his icy eyes unsure.
“Bucky,” Steve breathed, “I want you happy. Either way makes me happy. So, tell
me how you want to take me, love. On my knees? On my back?” Steve stroked
Bucky’s cheek, smiling softly. “Until you feel ready to feed the other way,
let’s stick with you in me, okay? I just want to be together, feed each other.
If you’re never ready, that’s fine. I love you.”
Nodding, Bucky took a steadying breath.
Cupping Bucky’s face, Steve whispered, “and until you’re ready, if ever, why
don’t we keep you in a one on one with me or Riley if that’s what you want. I
think groups are out for now, okay, baby?”
“I just want you, Steve . . . I - - I . . .” Bucky’s eyes closed again as he
forced the image of Brock and Jack forcing themselves into him at the same time
out of his mind. Yeah . . . no groups.
“I’m here, Bucky,” Steve smiled. “I love you.”
Opening his eyes, Bucky took another breath and offered Steve a smile, “I - - I
love you, Stevie.”
Smiling, Steve nodded and finished undressing Bucky then himself. “Wanna kiss
some more, love?”
Without answering, Bucky closed the distance between them and kissed Steve
again, pressing the large man back carefully, until they both fell against the
bed.
Steve chuckled softly, his familiar voice non-threatening. He let himself fall
onto his back, his legs spreading a bit. “My playful love,” he breathed out
approvingly.
Bucky moved his lips down to Steve’s nipples, his hand trailing down the
Alpha’s firm abdomen until it wrapped around the large shaft of his mate.
Letting his head fall back, appreciating the gentle explorations, Steve
caressed his fingers through Bucky’s dark curls. “God, you are perfect, my
love. So good to me.” He gently rocked his hips up so he thrust his member
carefully into Bucky’s hand. Steve tried very hard to avoid any of the words or
specific phrasing the vampir had used in their brutal rape of the skittish ex-
hunter.
Sitting up, Bucky grabbed the jar of lubricant from the night stand and he
lathered his flesh fingers in the substance before leaning back down to lick at
the Alpha’s nipples and massage the ring of muscle with his slender finger.
Gasping in appreciation, Steve moaned softly. “Buck? May I touch you? I would
like to put a finger, just one, in you. Would that be okay, baby doll?”
Bucky nodded, not moving his head from his mate’s chest, his finger slipping
inside Steve’s passage.
Reaching up for the lube, Steve generously slicked his right forefinger. He
moved it down to gently caress over Bucky’s passage, teasing slightly then
slowly slipping the one finger inside, purposely spreading his hand so Bucky
could feel the other fingers over his buttocks. Steve merely kept the finger
buried palm deep and started feeding Bucky energy into his passage. “This okay,
baby doll?”
As Steve’s finger entered him, Bucky’s eyes snapped shut and his body tensed,
but the Omega took a few deep breaths and then nodded. He noticed his member
wasn’t taking any interest in the exchange, which caused the brunet to flush.
Bucky leaned his forehead on Steve’s shoulder and continued to take deep,
steadying breaths.
“So brave, my love, to feed so soon like this. Let me know if you want to stop,
baby doll,” Steve said as he continued to feed Bucky with just a finger. HIs
own member was erect, but not painfully so, and he enjoyed the sensation of
Bucky’s finger in his passage, but Steve could tell Bucky wasn’t feeling sexual
in the least. Steve wanted to make sure Bucky understood that sex wasn’t
needed. He loved sex, but Bucky’s comfort was far more important to Steve.
After several moments, Bucky’s eyes closed and he shook his head, “I - - I
can’t . . . I’m sorry . . .”
Nodding, Steve carefully slid his finger back out of his lover. “That’s fine,
Buck. You were brave to try for so long.” He kissed his mate and infused energy
through Bucky’s mouth instead.
Tears trailed down Bucky’s cheeks. He felt so damaged . . . so broken.
Normally, he’d had no problems becoming erect for Steve, and the feeling of his
mate pushing energy into his passage would’ve been enough to send him over the
edge. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Brock and Jack . . . his mind
replayed the rape over and over again.
“Bucky, Sweetie,” Steve crooned, lifting his clean hand to wipe at Bucky’s
tears. “As long as you are fed and happy, we can try whenever you feel up to
it. Someday, you’ll conquer the memories and evil done to you. But for now, you
were so brave to try.” Steve hugged his mate. “I love you so much. I’m so proud
of you.”
Bucky wished he could forget about the rape. Wished he could never recall the
specific details and insults that had been thrown his way. Taking another deep
breath, Bucky slid off of Steve and pulled his clothes back on, looking
completely dejected and miserable.
“Bucky, please come here? You can stay dressed, I don’t mind,” Steve asked.
Looking at his mate, Bucky nodded once and crawled back onto the bed, settling
down as he curled into Steve’s side.
“Have I been telling you I love you too much, baby doll?” Steve asked, serious
toned. He curled his arms around his mate in a strong, yet loose, embrace.
“Maybe once or twice,” Bucky responded; he tried to force his tone back to his
normal, lighthearted voice but the statement fell flat.
Steve reached down to pull the topsheet over his nude form, trying to ease
Bucky a bit more. “Let me feed you through your mouth, at least?”
Bucky’s eyes fell down to Steve’s erect member and the brunet flushed again.
Chuckling, Steve shook his head, “Bucky, I mean energy. You’ll be fine without
lifeseed for almost a week. But you need energy.”
Sighing slightly in relief, Bucky nodded and looked up at his mate. “Mm’kay,”
the Omega responded.
Nodding, Steve began kissing Bucky’s mouth, carefully tracing his tongue over
his mate’s lips but not forcing a deeper kiss. Instead, he let wave after wave
of golden energy pulse into his lover’s mouth, letting him feed on the warm
loving sensation.
Bucky opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, wanting to taste his mate. His arms
wrapping around the Alpha’s neck.
Humming slightly, Steve joined in deepening their kiss, letting his tongue
explore his Omega’s wet heat, pushing energy into Bucky’s body through the
traditional mouth feeding done on injured newborns that couldn’t use sexual
feedings.
After several minutes of kissing, Bucky felt slightly rejuvenated and broke
away but his lips still ghosted over Steve’s, “we - - we should go see if the
others are ready for the trial.”
Kissing back lightly, Steve nodded, “Wanda said she would come get us when the
others were ready, Bucky. Feeling a little better, love? A little less hungry?”
Bucky nodded and sat up, running his fingers through his hair.
“Wanna see your pups?” Steve offered.
The brunet hesitated, his head falling down as he played with the hem of his
shirt.
“No one told them what happened, Bucky. They love you and miss you.” Steve
stroked Bucky’s hair again.
“I . . . okay . . .” Bucky said softly as he stood up. He chewed his bottom lip
nervously as he waited for his mate to get ready.
Steve stood and quickly cleaned up his other hand then dressed. Finally, he
held out his hand to his Omega. “Ready, love?”
Taking Steve’s hand, Bucky released a shaky breath and nodded. His metal
fingers continued to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. His scent exuded
nervousness and fear. Would the pups know something was different? Would they
be able to smell Brock or Jack?
Leading Bucky out of the bedroom and into the large nursery, Steve guided Bucky
to the play area to one side of the pups’ sanctuary. “Summer, Ava, Dam’s here,”
he called softly.
A gentle hand patted Bucky’s ankle and his daughter, Ava, smiled up at him.
“Dam,” she said with a confident tone.
Summer bolted over from where she’d been playing and wrapped her arms around
her dam’s legs, nearly knocking him over, “Dam! You’re back!”
Smiling softly, Bucky ran his fingers through both girls’ hair; Summer had yet
to let go of his legs so he couldn’t kneel down to their level. “Hello, my
little ones.”
“Oh no! Summer trapped Dam! What will he do?” Steve teased lightly.
Giggling, Summer squeezed harder and actually managed to buckle the Omega’s
knees, bringing him down, but Bucky was able to catch himself so the landing
wasn’t too hard. Summer squealed and launched herself onto Bucky, hugging his
neck tightly. He immediately wrapped one arm around Summer while the other hand
still ran through Ava’s hair.
After a long quiet moment the sound of soft footsteps came towards the nursery.
Slowly, Riley walked in and stopped at the doorway, as if checking the room for
any hidden dangers, before continuing on to a rocking chair. He eased into the
cushioned chair and watched the different children, making no move to get
Nathaniel and Kevin.
Bucky’s eyes flickered to Riley and his cheeks flushed brightly; he quickly
looked away and continued to play with his pups, tickling the happily screaming
Summer.
Riley began gently rocking his chair, merely watching everyone in the room,
still not approaching his own pups. He seemed withdrawn, much as he had been in
the very early days after his initial rescue: on the edge of the crowd but not
really one of them.
Looking up at Steve, Bucky’s mouth pulled into a small frown, it’s odd. He
hasn’t touched one of his pups since he’s gotten home. Usually he isn’t able to
put them down.
I know. It’s been worrying us, Sam and me. He nearly lost this pup, pushed
himself too hard, but Sam saved them both. Steve stroked Bucky’s hair. Riley
only goes near Sam now.
Pushing aside his own insecurities, Bucky got up off the floor and carefully
walked over to Riley, his movements cautious, “Riley?”
Riley lifted his face and it was immediately obvious that he was softly crying,
tears streaming silently down his face. “Bucky,” he said very softly, misery in
his tones.
Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Bucky ran his hand through his hair and
licked his lips, “I . . . uh - - thank you . . . for saving me . . . I - - I
know - - you risked your pup doing so . . . I’m sorry . . .”
“I’m so sorry,” Riley said softly. “You did so much and I nearly killed . . .”
he shook his head, “and I left Clint . . .”
“We both left Clint . . . but we’re all safe now. Everyone is safe, Riley. Your
pup. Clint. Me. You. We’re all safe,” Bucky answered softly, his eyes moved to
look at his two pups playing on the floor, the girls laughing and smiling
happily. Turning back to look at Riley, he offered his distressed friend a
smile, “what else is there to ask for? We all got out. We did what we had to
do.”
Nodding, Riley hugged himself. “But I nearly killed . . . but I had to. You
needed saving . . . I had to choose. I’m sorry.” He let his head drop.
Kneeling down in front of his friend, Bucky carefully placed his right hand on
Riley’s knee, “don’t be sorry. Thank you for saving me . . . I couldn’t have
gotten out of there without you. But the pup is safe . . . Sam saved it. You’re
both gonna be okay.”
Riley nodded, head still bowed, tears still running. He continued to hug
himself, silent again.
Bucky sighed and patted Riley’s knee, “just focus on keeping yourself healthy,
okay? For the pup?”
“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered. “I had to choose between you and your pup. I
chose you.”
“My . . .” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he shook his head, “what are you talking
about, Riley? The pup is Sam’s . . .”
Shaking his head, Riley didn’t say a word.
Dropping his hand, Bucky looked at Riley with wide eyes, he could feel his
breathing pick up and he stood back up.
Steve watched Bucky and Riley, cuddling Ava onto his lap as she played with
Summer. “Buck?” he called softly.
Bucky shook his head, stumbling backwards, “no . . . the pup is Sam’s . . . I -
-”
Riley let out a shaking soft sob. “If you insist.” He rose from his rocking
chair and left the nursery again, having never looked at his own pups.
Refusing to break down in front of his pups, Bucky bolted from the room and
secured himself back in the room he shared with Steve. He climbed on the bed
and his body seemed to be on auto-pilot as he made a small nest out of the
blankets and pillows. After successfully surrounding himself, Bucky brought the
pillow Steve used to his face and clutched it tightly.
Jack and Brock were right. He was a slut. He couldn’t even stay with Steve . .
. he should’ve never started sleeping with Steve. He’d deserved everything . .
. all the harsh words and demeaning actions . . . he’d deserved them all.
The door opened and Steve looked in with a soft, worried frown. “Bucky?”
Whimpering, Bucky hugged the pillow closer. Would Steve still want him? He was
so dirty . . . so filthy.
Slipping into the room, shutting the door softly, Steve made his way to the bed
and slipped to the surface, leaning over to touch Bucky’s right arm. “Baby
doll?”
“I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry, Steve . . .” Bucky murmured, his chest heaved and
he felt like he was suffocating again.
“Sorry? For what, Bucky?” Steve caressed his arm gently. “All three of you are
going to have a lot of trauma to deal with from what happened. You tried to
calm Riley. It’ll take him time. C’mon, Baby doll.” He reached up to caress
Bucky’s cheek gently.
“I’m a slut. You deserve better . . .” Bucky whimpered.
“What? You are not a slut, sweetie. What gave you that idea?” Steve stroked
Bucky’s check.
“I never could get enough,” Bucky responded in a flat tone, “when you couldn’t
satisfy me, I went to Riley. Now . . . now he’s pregnant and - - they were
right . . . I’m a slut. You know it takes two dicks to rip me open?”
“They were wrong about you, Bucky,” Steve said firmly. “You and I agreed in
advance that you and me and Sam and Riley were playmates. All four of us agreed
to that before we started and before we continued. That was a voluntary
decision. You weren’t sneaking around behind my back because you weren’t
satisfied. And of course you’d be ripped by two guys at once. Even I’m not that
large, freak of nature that I am.”
Bucky gripped the pillow tighter, his eyes squeezing shut, “I don’t want to be
a sire . . . I don’t - -” the Omega buried his face into the pillow, breathing
in Steve’s musky scent.
“Bucky, do you love me?” Steve asked softly.
Head snapping up and pale eyes wide, Bucky nodded frantically, “yes!”
“And, honestly, do you love Riley?” Steve looked at Bucky with loving eyes.
Blinking, Bucky took a few moments to answered, “yes . . . but not like I love
you . . .”
“There are different kinds of love, Bucky. But for you and Riley, it’s not just
sex for you? You really do love him, right?” Steve stroked his fingers through
Bucky’s tangled curls.
Nodding, Bucky answered, “yes.”
“And for you and Riley, sex is an expression of that love, right?” Steve
offered a gentle smile.
Bucky nodded.
“And you have sex with me because you love me, right?” Steve continued in that
same gentle, loving tone.
“Steve . . . where is this going?” Bucky asked softly.
Stroking again, Steve said, “then you aren’t a slut, Bucky. A slut wants sex
for the sake of sex, not for love. You love us both.”
Sighing, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, he pulled his knees to his
chest and nodded.
“So, if you aren’t a slut, and you didn’t enjoy being brutalized by their
abuse, those vampir seem to have lied to you completely, didn’t they?” Steve
carded his fingers through Bucky’s curls again. “Like they lie to everyone
about everything.”
A soft knock echoed through the room, “Steve, Dam Rogers . . . it’s Wanda . . .
the others are ready, I’ve been sent for you?”
“Clint’s come out of his room?” Steve asked.
“Well, no . . . but Natasha said the trial should go on. Both Dam Romanov and
Dam Wilson are not attending,” Wanda answered softly from the other side of the
closed door.
“Did you want to come to the trial, Bucky? You aren’t required.” Steve said
softly.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky nodded once and said, “no, I want to go.”
“We’re coming right now, Wanda. Thank you very much.” Steve stood, holding his
hands out to his mate.
Bucky took them and then leaned into Steve’s side, enjoying the warmth and
comfort at being so close to his mate.
“I love you, my precious Omega, my brave, beautiful, and sometimes overwhelmed
mate.” Steve guided Bucky from their room and towards the downstairs group
room.
“Anyone ever told you, you’re a sap, Steve Rogers,” Bucky said, his tone taking
an edge of playfulness.
“My mate tells me, and I love it every time,” Steve replied with a smile.
Bucky hummed, “sounds like a smart mate.”
“Smart ass did you say?” Steve teased.
Smiling wide, wider than he’d done since the rescue, Bucky pushed up to kiss
Steve’s cheek, “yes, but I’m your smart ass.”
“You better believe it, Bucky!” He kissed back and turned to the group. “We’re
ready when you are.” Steve pulled Bucky to sit on a small padded bench seat
with him.
Bucky sat down next to his mate and leaned in close, his metal fingers thrummed
against his thigh, filling the room with the soft mechanical whir of the gears
and plates shifting with the movement.
T’Challa nodded and turned to Natasha. “As the main claimant against the
accused, Rogers should not lead this court. I move that we choose a different
person to run the court instead of a Rogers.”
Nodding her agreement, her green eyes hard and calculating, Natasha said, “yes,
I believe that would be wise.”
“And due to her loss allegedly due in part to the accused, I move that Wanda
Maximoff not lead the court, either.” T’Challa went on, effectively reminding
everyone present that Pietro was dead in part due to Pierce’s actions.
Becca interrupted, “and since Scott Pym and I were his prisoners?” She shook
her head, “I think we all have claims against this vampyre beast, T’Challa.”
Natasha quirked a brow and nodded, “I believe your youth may have a point,
T’Challa. Every single one of us has a grievance against Pierce.”
“I was benefitted by him,” Johnny said softly, “whether that was intentional or
not.”
Looking at Johnny, Natasha nodded, “would you like to lead this court, Johnny?”
“No, but I will accept the duty, Natasha Romanov. As the only one who has not
directly suffered at his hands, I am best to determine the veracity of other
claims against him.” Johnny gestured for T’Challa and Bruce to bring in the
accused. Once Alexander Pierce stood before the court, bound in chains, Johnny
said. “Who wishes to make the first statement?” This was a far cry from the way
the Elder’s court had worked with Bucky.
Slowly, one by one, different members of the group rose and stated their case
against Pierce. Steve’s was the longest testimony and perhaps the most
heartbreaking, recalling the torture, rape, and even gang rapes and abuse, at
the hands of his original sire. He listed his three pups and their fates, only
Johnny being the survivor from those times. Finally, Steve sank down next to
Bucky and hugged his mate as if grasping a life raft in a thundering storm.
Bucky leaned in close, kissing Steve’s neck gently and washing the distressed
Alpha over with his comforting scent.
Johnny nodded after a few minutes of allowing Bucky to tend Steve. “Bucky? Do
you wish to add to these claims?”
Looking up at Johnny, Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. Slowly, he stood and
looked directly at the ancient vampyre. He told the court about how he’d come
home when he was twelve to find his parents brutally murdered, his baby
sister’s body nowhere to be found. How Pierce had lied to him for thirteen
years, manipulating him to do Hydra’s bidding. He talked about the times Pierce
had forced him to pleasure members of Hydra’s council so that he’d have a place
to stay. However, after everything was out in the open, Bucky looked back to
Pierce and said in a strong voice, “but, really, Pierce, I ought to thank you.”
Johnny asked, neutrally, “why do you wish to thank the accused?”
Pale eyes not leaving Pierce’s face, Bucky answered, “because without him . . .
I would have never found Steve. Would have wandered the earth seeking a piece
of my heart I’d never realized was missing.”
“And do you feel this outweighs your other claims against the accused?” Johnny
asked.
Bucky paused, thinking over that statement, “does it outweigh the murder of two
innocent people and the torture of at least two others . . . no. It doesn’t. He
deserves to be punished.”
“So, Dam Rogers, though the court appreciates the evidence on his behalf,
unless you wish to retract your claim against the accused, the positive comment
shall be set aside until the sentence phase, should the accused be found
guilty. Is this acceptable?” Johnny looked down at the former ‘Winter Soldier.’
Nodding, Bucky answered, “that’s acceptable.” Bucky sat back down, leaning
against his mate.
Johnny looked over the group. “Does anyone else have a claim against the
accused?” When no other claims were presented, Johnny sighed. “And does either
Maximoff sense deception in the claims or the severity of the claims?”
“No,” Stephen said. “The claims are legitimate.” He’d had to recuse himself as
mediator of the court in order to provide the testimony of guilt.
Finally, Johnny nodded and stood. “Then the accused is found guilty of
traumatic torture of persons both vampyre and human, as well as an unknown
number of vampires. He is accused of assisting in the creation of abominations
such as vampir, dhampyr, and zombies. He is accused of trafficking in pups and
causing the death, indirectly and directly, of an uncounted number of pups. He
is accused of rape and arranging group abuse of newborns and pups. Does anyone
challenge these charges?”
When no one argued the case, Johnny claimed, “then the accused is found guilty.
Sentencing phase now proceeds. We have heard comment of gratitude that the
person claiming gratitude does not believe outweighs the crimes. Does anyone
else wish to speak on behalf of the accused?”
Steve drew a breath. “Without the accused I would not only be deceased due to
human frailty, but I would not have found my true mate. Also, my first born
would not have been raised, happy and secure, among the Storm clan. But, I do
not feel the lives of two outweighs the damage and torture he’s done to many.
He deserves to be punished.”
“Any others?” Johnny asked. After a long moment of silence, Johnny bowed at the
shoulders to the viewers. “Then, based on the seriousness and irredeemable
quality of the crimes, the court sentences Alexander Rogers Pierce to death, to
be carried out immediately. Who would claim to be executioner, please?”
“As Steve is clan leader, he has the right to be executioner,” Natasha stated,
her eyes focusing on Steve from across the room.
Nodding, Steve hugged Bucky carefully then rose and strode directly over to
Pierce. “Feel honored, sire. You will be granted the same death I grant in
battle.” Steve, with lightning fast reflexes, reached through Pierce’s back and
ripped out the vampyre’s spine, not giving the bound man a chance to plead or
respond. Pierce fell dead in a twitching heap of golden energy. Not making
anyone else clean up that particular garbage, Steve collected spine and body
and carried the terror of the Rogers clan from the house to leave his body to
decay in the far field. Steve returned several minutes later and moved to wash
off his torso and arms.
Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist from behind and placed a kiss on
the back of his Alpha’s neck. His scent was soothing and loving.
In return, Steve’s scent was triumphant and relieved; he’d fulfilled a long ago
quest he’d set himself: to cleanse his clan of Pierce’s evil. Turning, Steve
kissed Bucky’s lips.
“Court is ended,” Johnny claimed.
Bucky sighed and leaned his forehead against Steve’s chest, his hands resting
on the blond’s hips.
“Finally that part is done, my love,” Steve sighed.
“As the majority of our clan is gathered, I would like to make a proposal,
please,” T’Challa said.
Turning around to look at T’Challa, Bucky leaned back against his mate as he
waited for the dark-skinned Alpha to continue.
“So far, while we have been in hiding here, we have been discovered by an ally
and two enemies. This, in the last two years, is not comfortable for me. I feel
we are not hidden from the council and the general populace. I come from a land
called Wakanda, a small country on the continent of Africa. I propose we go to
Wakanda to live. It will be next to impossible for the council to interfere
with us or our remaining enemies to get at us before we are healed, trained,
and ready once more.” Finally the normally quiet man fell silent.
“I agree with this plan,” Bucky stated after only a few moments, “I would like
to feel safe again.”
“Sam, Natasha?” Steve asked, “do you feel you can make this decision for your
mates?”
Both Alpha’s nodded but it was Sam who spoke, “I hope a change in scenery will
help my mate. Also, the added safety might ease his worries. I say we go, and I
believe Riley would agree.”
Nodding, Johnny said, “I think I speak on behalf of anyone here that after what
we’ve been through, call it security or hiding, it is the best choice for our
clan’s mental health and recovery.”
T’Challa nodded. “That will certainly be a high priority. My homeland is very
serene.”
“Let’s vote,” Steve said. When the count was done, not a single protest had
been made. The clan leader nodded. “We should make preparations to leave and
travel to Wakanda. We need to transfer our wounded, our pups, and our resting.
We need to pack carefully. T’Challa, what do you recommend for furnishings or
clothing?”
T’Challa answered, “such will be available upon our arrival. The things you
should consider bringing are your keepsakes and books, perhaps other things
that cannot be easily replaced. With the contents of the house that we may
actually leave behind, we should easily be able to arrange travel within the
week and arrive there within the month.”
Steve nodded. “Then by all means, if you have doubts, please consult T’Challa.
Let us get this family clan moved to safety.” He hugged Bucky. “Pup check,
Buck?”
Nodding, Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and led the Alpha up the stairs and back
into the large nursery. Summer ran up to her Dam as he stepped into the room;
she flung herself at him and the Omega dropped Steve’s hand to scoop her up
playfully, a smile on his face as her amused laughter filled the room.
Bucky’s attention was drawn to Riley once more in the nursery rocking chair.
This time he had Kevin in his lap and Nathaniel quietly leaning backwards
against his legs as he softly rocked and stared into space, almost seeming
catatonic.
Steve frowned softly but didn’t go near Riley or interfere with him. Instead he
squatted down to pay attention to Ava.
Setting Summer back down, Bucky approached the other Omega, “Riley? You okay?”
He glanced at Bucky, blue eyes swollen from the tears that no longer fell.
“Hello, Bucky,” he said in a very tired voice.
“Why don’t you go to Sam? Let him feed you? I can put the pups to bed . . .”
Bucky offered, his pale eyes looking over his friend in worry.
Without word Riley merely nodded but didn’t move from where he sat, one pup in
his lap, the other leaning against him.
Carefully, Bucky closed the rest of the distance between them and scooped up
Kevin. He took Nathaniel’s hand and said to Riley, “go on, Riley. Go rest. You
look exhausted.”
The withdrawn vampyre rose silently, turned without a word, and headed from the
room.
Bucky chewed his bottom lip and his eyes shone with worry, but he forced the
expression away.
Steve carefully picked up Nathaniel. “I’m not sure what’s exactly wrong with
him,” he said softly.
Shrugging, Bucky took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face as he looked
to Kevin and then his own pups, “whose ready for bed, huh?”
Kevin offered a sweet smile and nodded, slipping two fingers into his mouth,
making his lip pull back to expose his little fangs.
Nodding, the Omega carried the boy to his bed and gently laid him down; he then
picked up Ava and helped her get settled under the sheets of her own bed.
Steve put Nathaniel and Daniel down then moved on to Ana, taking care of
Clint’s pups for the missing, wounded Omega.
“I don’t wanna go to bed, Dam! I wanna stay up with you!” Summer called, her
lips pulling into a pout.
Without arguing, Steve scooped up Summer. “Okay, for a little bit you can sit
we me and Dam.”
Summer beamed and wrapped her tiny arms around Steve’s neck, “thank you! I love
you, Sire!”
He grinned. “Buck, wanna take care of Damien and Ian? I’ll get Ellie?” He moved
to tuck the small vamp-mix into her bed, knowing Wade would come up and untuck
her so he could ‘properly’ do it anyway.
Bucky nodded and helped the last two pups into their beds, making sure to tuck
them in and place a gentle kiss on each pup’s forehead.
Finally, Steve offered his hand to Bucky. “Coming to our room, Buck? Or am I
just taking Summer to bed?”
Taking Steve’s hand, Bucky flashed Steve a smile, “there’s no place I’d rather
be.”
They walked down the hall towards their bedroom and noticed the door to
Natasha’s very well lit room open; Clint looked out. He offered them a smile,
almost of relief.
“Hey,” Clint called softly and trotted out of his room, moving carefully due to
the still healing wounds.
Bucky gave Clint a smile, “hey, Clint. How’re you feelin’?”
“Bit sore, bit stiff, bit nyctophobic,” Clint replied, sticking close to the
bright lights of the bedroom, several gas lamps lit in the confines behind him.
Frowning softly, Bucky let go of Steve’s hand to lean forward and gently kiss
Clint’s forehead, “I didn’t get to thank you earlier . . . so, thank you. Also,
I’m - - I’m sorry I left you . . .”
Blinking in surprise, Clint said, “I took a beating for you and Riley, you took
worse. And Riley had to pull you outta there because you’d lost so much energy.
Bucky, you didn’t see yourself. I coulda swore Riley was hauling a corpse outta
there. So, I understand.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t stop the terrors, though, does
it?”
“Dam died?!” Summer gasped and look at Steve with wide, terror filled eyes.
“No,” Steve said carefully. “Dam was hurt badly but he’s still here, so no, he
didn’t die.”
Clint winced. “Sorry, didn’t see the pup.”
Bucky waved dismissively, “it’s okay,” the brunet Omega gave Clint another kiss
and said, “rest well, Clint.”
“Yeah, hey, you, too, Bucky. And let Steve feed you, okay? You look like you
haven’t eaten in a week.” Clint sidled backwards towards the well-lit bedroom,
away from the darkened corridor.
Wincing softly, Bucky took Steve’s hand and finished walking towards their
bedroom; Bucky’s nest was still made on the bed, and Summer laughed, “it looks
like what Snap makes!”
Steve sighed. He understood what the pup did not. “Well, Snap is a Dam, isn’t
she?” Steve asked, sliding the pup onto the bed and turning to Bucky. “Wanna
share your nest, Bucky, or shall I make one for Summer, too?”
“N - - no, it’s fine, Stevie, thank you,” Bucky hesitated.
Before Bucky could disrupt the nest, Steve scooped him up and settled him in
the blanket and pillow bundles. He then put Summer inside. “Bucky, maybe you
weren’t paying attention to your Omega lessons, but Omegas nest when they are
scared or worried or hurt. It’s natural. It brings a sense of security, of
safety. Nest as long as you need to, love. I’m right here to guard you both. In
fact, I can go get Ava if that makes you feel better?”
Holding Summer close, Bucky nodded, “yeah . . . maybe you should . . .”
“Wait right there, love.” Steve hurried out to grab the other pup and bring her
back, sliding her, also, into Bucky’s lap. “There. Now you have your pups safe
in your nest.” He smiled gently and slipped onto the bed between the door and
the nest. “You don’t have to invite me in your nest, either, Bucky. Alphas
should only invade the nest under strict invitation and only if the Omega truly
wishes it. We have to respect Omega needs.” He smiled, loving the sight of his
family tucked up together.
Much to Summer’s dismay, she fell asleep only a few minutes after entering the
room and Ava hadn’t really woken up from Steve carrying her in. Bucky curled
around his pups but his eyes didn’t fall shut; he feared closing them.
Steve made no move to douse the lights, having figured the others might have as
much trouble with the dark as Clint seemed to be having. Instead, Steve reached
his hand out carefully to stroke Bucky’s curls, infusing his mate with energy
in a low-level feeding gesture.
In a quiet whisper, not wanting to risk waking the pups, Bucky said, “Steve?”
“Yeah, Bucky?” he responded instantly.
“I - - I can’t sleep . . . I don’t wanna close my eyes . . .” Bucky admitted.
Nodding, Steve said, “that’s okay, Buck. When your body gives up and does
sleep, I’ll be right here. So, don’t try. If you wanna talk, I’ll be happy to
join in. How about you pick a subject.”
After a few moments, filled only with the pups’ steady breathing and the soft
whir of Bucky’s arm, the Omega said, continuing his whispering, “so, what do
you think Wakanda will be like?”
“I think it will be hot, since it’s part of the African Continent. Maybe deep
forests or high waterfalls or a stretching long savannah full of lions and
elephants.” Steve began weaving a fantasy based in books and some travel about
this still unknown nation.
Smiling faintly, Bucky tucked a lock of hair behind Ava’s ear, “I’ve never seen
a waterfall before. Or elephants. Or lions. I guess I haven’t seen much of
anything, really.”
“You will,” Steve promised. “We’ll be traveling by steamship for a good portion
of the journey to Africa then we have to travel over land through various
countries to get to Wakanda unless it’s by the ocean.”
“Think we’ll see dolphins? Read about them in a book once . . .” Bucky mused,
enjoying the conversation that distracted him from his recent trauma.
“Well, dolphins are known to play in the wake of a ship, so I would be
surprised if we didn’t see them.” Steve smiled, still stroking Bucky’s hair,
still feeding him gently. “Hey, Buck, think you can pull your shirt back so I
can give you a pup feeding?” He moved his hand towards Bucky’s tummy.
Nodding, Bucky hitched up the hem of his shirt, careful to avoid waking the
pups.
Steve caressed his hand gently over Bucky’s abdomen and surged power into him
like he would do for the pups, a healthy direct dose of energy over and over in
satisfying waves. Steve had been showing Bucky throughout the day the many
different ways they could feed so he wouldn’t get stuck on the fear of sex from
the rape. In the end, if Bucky couldn’t take penetration due to his trauma,
Steve would have to resort to oral once more, but he knew Bucky would last
several more days before needing that. He caressed Bucky’s abdomen with warm,
golden energy.
Humming in satisfaction, Bucky looked over at Steve and gave his mate a smile,
“I knew you’d come for me, Steve. I knew it.”
“Always, Buck. I’ll always come for you.” Steve leaned closer and dropped a
kiss on the seam of Bucky’s left shoulder. “Bucky? Do you think we need an
exotic pet permit when we go to Wakanda?”
“For what? The Falcons?” Bucky asked looking slightly confused.
“No,” Steve smirked, “for Tony.”
Snorting in amusement, Bucky smiled brightly, “nah, we’re gonna have to sneak
him in. No one in their right mind would want a Stark in their country.”
Chapter End Notes
     This is the last chapter, but we plan a sequel in the future, if
     anyone is interested. Thank you all for your wonderful comments,
     Kudos, and readership!
***** AU TERMS EXPLAINED *****
WHEN YOU’RE A STRANGER: VAMPYRE AU TERMS EXPLAINED:
A note on gender identity: ‘It’ is the pronoun used throughout this document to
denote male and/or female, unspecified. The pronoun ‘it’ is meant to encompass,
rather than exclude, any and all genders, preferences, or natures. Where an
actual gender, preference, or nature is specified, the selected term is
considered generally acceptable but not exclusive. Otherwise, as a gender-
neutral term, ‘it’ functions for the singular and ‘they’ for the plural. Thank
you
Pronunciations: these are not officially phonetic, but in general sounded out,
so please forgive the unprofessional manner for which we express them.
Pronunciations are only listed next to terms which might be confusing.
SPECIES:
Vampyre: vam-Peer-ray: a near-immortal species which feeds on psychic and
sexual energy combined. A vampyre can be born naturally, a processed called
whelping, of an omega mother and alpha father. It can also be converted (some
call this turning) by sharing psychic and sexual energy, a process which can
kill a human if not completed properly. A conversion must be accepted and
cannot be forced, thus an unwilling partner will die, often brutally and
painfully, unless it gives in. A vampyre has extra-ordinary, considered super-
human, abilities, differing by Clan or Family, and long, sharp, non-retractable
canine teeth. It can live for thousands of years, getting more powerful as it
matures. A vampyres is weakened by ultraviolet, or sunlight, but is not killed
by such; it will become very ill with direct exposure. Thus it prefers the
strength it has in the dark or at night. A converted vampyres is weakest as a
newborn and gains strength and control as it ages and learns, but it can be
killed if the hunter knows the way and finds a means past the vampyre’s
abilities. A Vampire sire or leader can compel others in certain circumstances,
most often as a newborn, fledgling, or youth, to protect it, guide it, and
basically control it. Some also refer to this as ‘using the dominant Alpha
control.’ Compelling strips the other Vampire of its free will, forcing it to
obey direct orders, though the demand can often be softened into less of an
order by adding certain keywords or inflections, such as ‘please.’ This is one
of the abilities outsiders have witnessed which have them misunderstanding and
fearing vampyres; another such circumstance is the constant sexual feeding to
get the maximum life energy push into the non-mature vampyres or the injured.
Vampires, and sometimes humans, often believe that vampyres drain the life out
of people and make them into slaves for pleasure and power. A vampyre generally
want to be left in peace to live its very long life with its own kind, though
some vampyres have gone rogue. Vampyres are often hunted by humans who
mistakenly think they are just like vampires.
Vampire: vam-Pire: a near-immortal species which feeds on blood. Very similar
to vampyres, they are turned, a process involving sharing blood with the
newborn, or born, giving birth from the womb. Unlike vampyres, vampires do not
use sexual energy in the conversion; mere blood exchange is their sole
necessity at that stage. Vampires do not engage in sex with their newborns, as
the newly converted vampires are considered too weak and delicate for such a
process, a vast difference in need and attitude from their enemy. Vampires can
get pregnant and bear offspring, but the process is at most times deadly due to
loss of blood, so this is a taboo in vampire culture, as well, they are only
fertile during newborn and fledgling stages. A vampire does prefer to hunt at
night when it is able to see best due to its night-vision, as well humans are
at their most vulnerable in the dark or cold, thus a vampire will rest during
the day when humans are out in force. Often humans mistake vampires and
vampyres as the same species.
Creation: a being created by scientific or medically scientific means in the
image of a vampire or vampyre. This is a false being, not actually a member of
the intended species. Creations fall into one of three categories: Zombies,
Dhampyr , and Vampir. A creation is not converted by a vampyre or vampire in an
exchange of energy, nor is it whelped by an omega, marking it as a non-natural
abomination. Creations were developed by humans, mainly, to create super
soldiers to defend against the other species; however, most creations were
failures which turned into mindless zombies and died rapidly or became lust-
driven monsters called dhampyr.
Vampir: Vam-peer: Some creations of late have been successfully in most
respects, keeping their high intellect and better reflexes, though vampir feed
on a combination of blood and sexual energy to prevent the threat of oncoming
rot and wasting, a flaw in the general design. The most powerful weapon of a
creation is the ability to blend seamlessly among humans, undetected until too
late. However this false vampire/vampyre has none of the real weaknesses of a
vampire/ vampyre and can channel energy pulses as a weapon. This is signified
by an eerie blue glow in their eyes and wherever they are charging the energy
to release from (hand, etc.). Vampir have been known to engage in bloodlusts or
sexual orgies similar to their lesser relatives.
Dhampyr: Dam-peer: a species which has been changed by medical or scientific
means into simulation vampires or vampyre, mimicking their ability to feed on
blood or energy. These dhampyr are undead, animated corpses with higher brain
functions. A dhampyr hunts humans, vampires, and vampyres for food and sport.
It is created, not born, being sterile, but does possess male or female
genitalia. It is truly a powerful force to be reckoned with within twenty-four
hours of conversion, thus its most vulnerable state is in that first twenty-
four hours. Dhampyr have maturity levels but no names for them, strictly
calling all of their members dhampyr. It is fast, strong, can fly, turn
invisible, and communicate with some mammal species. On the flip side, it
cannot actively cross running water, needing to be in something enclosed and
specially prepared to do so, as a dhampyr has an intense phobia of water,
resulting in sinking and drowning. It has a weakness to rosemary, garlic, and
sage, as well as sunlight, which causes it to rot faster and weakens it.
Dhampyr cannot heal, though they are harder to injure, and the only true way to
kill a dhampyr is to pierce its heart and remove it’s brain. It is not injured
by strong religious beliefs.
Zombie: failed creations, mindless, slow moving, and decaying, subservient to
their masters. These are generally eating machines that last of two weeks to
two months until enough of the corpse rots away to make functioning impossible.
Unlike human horror tales, zombies cannot infect people or create other
zombies; they are mindless corpses on the verge of death.
Human: anything else not labeled animal, vegetable, mineral, or element - - the
other bipedal, sentient species acknowledged on Earth. It is often the target
of vampires, creations, zombies, or rogue vampyres.
GENDER IDENTITIES/ NATURES:
Alpha: The mature vampire which can get an Omega pregnant. Also, Alphas can
create newborns, thus becoming Sires. The process is still unclear how a female
Alpha gets a male Omega pregnant, as during the mating both vampyres are too
far gone to really pay attention to the physical mechanics, and no one has been
rude enough to study how it happens in a mating pair. However, while rare, a
female Alpha can impregnate a male Omega. An Alpha is created when a newborn
matures and has no need of its sire, or if the Omega’s current Alpha/ sire is
killed before the Omega reaches maturity. An immature Alpha is a dangerous,
uncontrollable, grieving Alpha which can go into lust ruts and needs to be
guided by protectors and advisors, if the immature can be found and caught. The
immature Alpha is the one which humans often see and relate to the common
undead vampire, often unaware that these are two different species. A male
Omega can impregnate a female Alpha, as long as she still possesses a viable
womb and ovaries. Also, though extremely rare, a male Alpha who was once a male
Omega might become pregnant if the connections between the ovaries and uterus
have not completely sealed upon becoming an Alpha or if the connection is
reopened. There are mature Alphas who have chosen to create multiple newborns
in order to control a harem, which is severely frowned upon by the vampyre
species as being abusive. A newborn needs such attention that even having two
at the same time can be detrimental to the newborns. Alphas can control the
newborn with commands which the newborn is compelled against all self-
preservation to obey.
Omega: Oh-meh-gah or oh-May-gah: a vampyre able to bear and whelp pups. This
can be male or female and starts as soon as second sex after conversion (first
sex being the life-giving process, anything after that is mating and feeding
simultaneously). Rarely do newborns get pregnant, though fledglings have been
known to do so and youths are the most common pregnant Omegas seen. A mature
Omega is possible, though as rare as newborn pregnant Omegas, as usually by
maturity the vampyre has become an Alpha. A pregnant newborn needs extra
special care and protection as the newborn is in the very early, overwhelming,
and confusing stage of the rebirth. No one looks down on a pregnant Omega, even
a newborn, but the Alpha that neglects a pregnant newborn would be harshly
punished and the newborn taken and put into care of a safehouse. Omegas can
also be a pup who has reached physical maturity and differentiated naturally as
a fertile child-bearer. The rare mature vampyre Omega which never switches to
an Alpha after performing a conversion needs to bring the newborn to a
safehouse, as the Omega sire is unable to provide the newborn Omega with the
proper nourishment, or so the theory goes. This is a very rare case and is
practically unheard of in most clans, and no living vampyres are known to have
this ‘permanent Omega’ condition. Others would not know how to approach such a
rarity.
Beta: Bee-tah or Bay-tah: neither Alpha or Omega, this is a vampyre converted
by a newborn, fledgling, youth, or immature Alpha. Betas do not have as strong
a bond to their sires, nor do they require constant mating from their own sire
as part of the feeding/ nurturing process. A Beta can often be surrogated out
to another ‘surrogate’ sire, often another Beta, for the newborn care it needs.
Most often Betas are created by uncontrolled newborns or by out-of-control
immature Alphas. Creating a Beta is not against any laws, but it is frowned
upon because a newborn is unable to provide for or care for another newborn,
and an immature is too unstable to do so. Betas still mate but do not produce
offspring by mating, unless it is with the opposite gender. There are no male
Beta pregnancies, and female Betas cannot get anyone pregnant. Their anatomy
works similarly to a human’s, and in fact the Beta is most often mistaken for a
human until their own special abilities shine through. Their fangs, while still
not retractable, are smaller and duller than a normal Alpha’s or Omega’s,
denoting their weaker overall condition, and there scent is muted enough to
pass for a human’s normal musk.
Male: Possessing a penis or identifying with the gender often possessing a
penis, though not necessarily a scrotum or testes. Testosterone based hormonal
responses. Please see Other Gendered for more information on this gender
identity.
Female: Possessing a vagina or identifying with the gender often possessing a
vagina, though not necessarily an uterus or ovaries. Estrogen based hormonal
responses. Please see Other Gendered for more information on this gender
identity.
Other Gendered: This term encompasses those who identify with other than the
above listed gender identities. This can be choice or otherwise and we choose
not to go into detail with this, as this is left up to reader interpretation.
Sexual preferences and gender identities run the same gamut as in Universe 616
(Marvel’s term for the mainstream reality), but is by no means limited by
presently known examples. As well, we, as the writers, do not dissuade
individual expression or identity, therefore if someone is male who does not
have a penis, or female without a vagina, we do not question but accept this.
STAGES OF GROWTH:
Pre-Pup: a pup in the womb or born earlier than full gestation (five months or
21 weeks). A female Omega or Beta delivers her pup through her vagina (or
cesarian section) while a male Omega must have a cesarian section to deliver
his pup.
Pup: the natural offspring of a vampyre Omega/ Alpha or Beta/Beta coupling. A
pup is born and grows in the same fashion as a human, though gestation is only
five months, with other known differences, and reaches physical maturity at
around the annual age of eighteen to twenty-one. Before that time it is
considered a pup. After that, it is considered an adult. A vampyre pup still
has to learn to control its abilities and powers and understand vampyre culture
versus human and vampire cultures, just like and child in the human world might
need to do. A pup does not need conversion, as it is born a vampyre, and can be
born Alpha, Omega, or Beta, but this isn’t revealed until physical maturity. A
Beta will ever be a Beta, and an Alpha will ever be an Alpha, but a pup which
differentiates as a rare Omega can produce children of its own and become an
Alpha when siring a newborn through conversion. A born Omega does not
spontaneously become an Alpha; it is always through siring a newborn that this
process happens. If that Omega never sires someone, it will remain a fertile
mature Omega able to produce offspring.
Adult: An adult vampyre is one which was born a pup rather than converted as a
newborn and has now reached a physically mature age of eighteen to twenty-one
human years. If a vampyre is converted before this age, it is never considered
an adult, even if it moves into enough control to be considered mature. An
adult vampyre is not the same as a mature vampyre, but these designations can
go hand-in-hand.
Non-Mature: not the same as immature, a non-mature is a general term for a
healthy newborn, fledgling, or youth without differentiating among the stages.
Non-mature can also be used as a term for a pup before it reaches physical
maturity.
Mature: a vampyre no longer considered immature, youth, forced, etc. This is an
Alpha able to live on it’s own and protect itself and even others. A mature
vampyre can take on newborns and therefore mates. While a vampyre can convert
someone to a newborn at any stage, only the mature vampyre is truly capable of
helping that newborn survive and grow. This stage lasts centuries. Clan leaders
are only ever mature, and have the ability to control the rest of their clan,
even newborns not their own. Rarely will there be a mature vampyre who is also
an Omega which never spontaneously becomes an Alpha, even after converting a
newborn. The mature Omega is such a rarity that most vampyres don’t know how to
treat it and feel that it must be weaker than a mature Alpha; however, the
mature Omega can be a deadly killing machine if it’s mate and pups are in
danger.
Newborn: a newly converted vampyre, needs to be under the care of a sire for
protection and guidance, in need of bi-hourly feedings, usually lasts two weeks
to a month, Omega or Beta. A neglected newborn can become a confused, over-
sensitized fledgeling and skip into immature state, making it a dangerous being
that never learned limits or controls. If a neglected newborn is found and
cared for by a surrogate soon enough, this process can be halted and even
reversed.
Fledgling: a young vampyre, not as energy-dependant as a newborn, but still in
need of protection and training and daily feedings, usually lasts for several
months to a year, Omega or Beta. Neglected fledglings can grow into dangerous
immature vampyres with little control and over-triggering emotional reactions
and lusts. A fledgling caught soon enough can be nurtured and educated but will
always be haunted by the abuse it suffered, generally making this vampyre into
a fearful, private, soul who tries to avoid others.
Youth: A vampyre beyond fledgling but not still a fully mature vampyre. Needs
feedings once a week, and still needs training but no longer requires constant
attendance by the sire, may be an Omega or Beta but can be an Alpha, this stage
lasts for years to decades depending on individual growth and diligence, might
be forced out of this stage by extreme emergency conditions, such as the death
of the sire. AS a youth can convert someone into a vampyre, there are youth
Alphas.
Forced: a vampyre forced out of the youth stage by the death of the sire,
forced into spontaneously becoming an Alpha though not yet mature enough for
this stage. This is the equivalent to a traumatized teenager in the human
world, and can be a delicate stage. Forced vampires can be rash, violent,
unpredictable, and overly emotional. Due to the nature of their status, a
forced vampyre can be guided into maturity far easier than other immature
vampyres, and thus can be saved most often by care and counseling for the
grieving former youth. A Beta can be Forced and will not become an Alpha, but
it will have all the trauma of the Forced Alpha.
Immature: a term for any vampyre beyond the youth stage but not in control
enough to be considered mature. This happens either by being forced through the
death of a sire, being neglected as a newborn or fledgling (accidentally or on
purpose), or by being a youth left to go wild. Immature vampyres are hard to
control and very confused, frightened, and angry. They are not shunned by other
vampyres but are pitied and often have to live their miserable lives in safe
houses, or more extreme cases in containment. The living vampyre responsible
for creating immature vampyres is the one often shunned or punished, if it can
be caught. The immature vampyre is the one most often spotted by frightened
confused humans and thought to be a vampire. Any youth stage vampyre who is
considered immature can never regain its youth stage. It can be rehabilitated
with great care and years of careful nurturing into a mature vampyre, but this
is complicated and rare. Usually a youth lost is lost for good.
Venerable: ancient or elderly vampyres, the wisest and rarest. This being is
centuries old and has learned pretty much everything it needs to learn. It can
create, nurture, and kill other vampyres as well as command an entire clan if
needed.
RANKS:
Clan Member: any vampyre who is not a rogue, of any age. Mature clan members
may have houses for their immediate family members but are not required to do
so. If a clan member wishes, it can claim residency at the clan leader’s house
instead, and can only be refused if the leader can prove the member has gone
rogue,
Sire: any vampire which has converted a newborn or has care of a newborn,
fledgeling, or youth. Sires are Alphas, and if the vampyre who converted the
newborn does not spontaneously become an Alpha, is a Beta, or is a newborn or
fledgling Omega (and therefore not capable to become Alpha yet), a surrogate
Alpha is appointed for the newborn, automatically granting the rank of sire to
the surrogate. Sire is a rank only used for an active guardian; once the
guardianship ends, the rank of sire is removed. A sire which abuses those in
its care can legally have the rank removed by an elder and will be banned or
shunned or otherwise punished for such a misuse of a helpless charge.
Safehouse Alpha: An Alpha appointed by suggestion of clan leaders and safehouse
leaders to work with the charges there, specifically as surrogates for forced,
immatures, or newly converted newborns who need one. Becoming a safehouse Alpha
is a great appointment filled with hard work and much heartache, but the work
is well worth it according to those who perform in such a capacity. Safehouse
Alphas can tend to be arrogant when dealing with Alphas who have no current
rank, such as sire or leader, but must show proper respect to any of rank. Over
the centuries, safehouse alphas may take sabbaticals to regain their
equilibrium and composure before accepting a reappointment to the safehouse
upon elder recommendation. It is not considered a shame to take sabbatical, but
it is a heinous crime to abuse a charge, any charge, at a safehouse. Some
safehouse alphas do not have specific charges and are there to help do the
menial labor, rather than the specified caregiving, though often these tasks
are carried out by Betas or safehouse residents trying to learn the control
needed to become mature clan members.
Leader: A rank of either appointment by the clan members or heritage in smaller
clans. A leader is an older vampyre who helps guides and protect the members of
the clan, working directly for the clan leader and answering directly to said
leader or any elder. A leader by heritage happens when there are so few
vampyres in a clan that any mature vampyre over two centuries can step into the
roles if not challenged. There is only ever one leader per city per clan and
that leader runs the clan house in that city. All clan members can expect to be
housed in the leader’s house.
Safehouse Leader: A safehouse leader is appointed by the Circle of Elders from
among trusted Alphas in each clan. THis is a leader who controls, guides,
protects, and cares for any and all people in the city safehouse, though some
large cities may have more than one safehouse, each run by a different
safehouse leader. Anything which happens in the safehouse or on the grounds is
the responsibility of the safehouse leader, and that leader has ultimate
authority even beyond the clan leaders. The only vampyre which can out-say a
safehouse leader is an elder. Safehouse leaders can allow anyone to enter the
house and can turn anyone, within reason, out. To turn someone out of the
safehouse, the safehouse leader must be able to prove endangerment, extreme or
even dangerous disrespect, or rogue status. A safehouse leader, being the
authority of the house, can also proclaim justice, up to and including
execution for wrong-doers. Physical assault of another’s newborn is one such
crime which can be punishable by death. The safehouse leader may appoint any of
the safehouse Alphas to carry out any determined punishments and will often do
this on a rotational basis to spare anyone the trauma or stigma of being
considered the safehouse disciplinarian, an unofficial status which can cause
fear and discomfort.
Clan Leader: Clan leaders are only ever powerful Alphas and can control any and
all newborns of that clan, though have no power over newborns of other clans.
They have limited control over their clan fledglings and none over any but
their own youths. However, a clan leader can be venerable, by which time it had
learned the control that can be exerted over the entire clan. A clan leader
cannot control another clan’s members, even at the venerable stage.
Elder: An elder is a leader in a clan, not necessarily venerable, who helps
enforces the laws and traditions. The elder, of which there may be several in a
larger clan, forms the governing group of the vampyre culture. Elder is a rank
of respect and must be earned through intense loyalty and dedication to the
vampyre race. To become an elder, a vampyre often goes from sire to leader or
safehouse Alpha to safehouse leader before being appointed elder, but some rare
cases of breaking this chain have occurred. In each clan only one elder is
selected for the Circle of Elders. Elders have been granted the control by all
of the clans that can be exuded over any clan member in all of the clans, and
is best wielded by a venerable stage vampyre if possible.
Rogue: a vampyre which no longer obeys the rules of polite vampyre society,
breaking free from the typical restraints and indulging in their whims and
desires. Rogues often will abuse others, including other vampyres. A rogue will
at times purposely half-convert newborns then leave them unfulfilled and dying
on the edge of rebirth, rape or torture with impunity, or create multiple
newborns for the power and control without the means or desire to properly
nourish or teach them, thereby creating an entire group of newborns destined to
become immature vampyres without strict interference. Rogue vampyres will
sometimes attack humans as part of their debauched lifestyle, but often will do
this in privacy rather than in public. There are rumors that rogue vampyres
even aid vampyre hunters and vampire hunters.
OTHER TERMS:
Clan: Groups or ‘families’ of vampyres. Vampyres form family groups, either
through Omega birthing or through conversion. All members of the same clan
share the same extraordinary abilities and have general clan or family names
they share, even if they were not initially blood related. Once a vampyre is
born or reborn (through conversion) to a clan, it is a member of that clan for
life. A vampyre can marry or mate in a different clan and be accepted by other
clans, but the true family is ever the original clan. Clans not only share the
same powers, they can learn to read each other’s minds and heal each other
through energy or sex. Some clans are larger than others and some are older.
Older clans are only considered such if they have living elders, thus “older
clan” status can fluctuate as eldes die or mature Alphas become elders. Some
clans are never considered older due to a lack of elders, but have long
standing and respected members anyway. Native culture or habitat is not a bar
to being in a clan, and clans generally accept each other even if they do not
always mingle. Once someone joins a vampyre clan from the ranks of humans, or
rarely from breaking free from the vampire packs and swearing fealty to a
vampyre clan, that member is no longer seen as an enemy, and will be protected
by other vampyres, even in other clans, unless that member breaches the trust
and endangers the clans. If a vampire manages to join a vampyre clan, even
though accepted, the vampire is closely watched at all times, as getting close
to a vampire pack can once more turn the vampire into a mindless killing
machine. A group of vampyres from different clans can, rarely, and with
approval of the elders, choose to form their own, new clan. This new family
will choose a joint name to switch to, giving up their old clan family name and
loyalty. The creation of a new clan is rare, though not unheard of, and must be
sanctioned; this will occur if the members feels more affinity for each other
than their own original clan family, for whatever reason. Occasionally a clan
will die out if it’s members stop breeding, converting, or change loyalty,
though this is rare as most clans consist of hundred of members or more. There
is one current clan consisting of about twenty known members, and is in threat
of dying out as no pups have been born to the clan for over two hundred years
and conversions also rarely occur.
Family: a group of clan members living together in a house, not necessarily the
clan house. Some clans have many families, but a clan with only a few members
may consider every clan member as an extended part of the same family rather
than just members of the same clan, thus offering loyalty to one another in a
more visceral way than most large clans might have. As a sign of clan
membership and loyalty, each clan family still sports the clan name as an
identifier. If a family member switches clan loyalty, the identifying family
name is also changed to match that of the new clan.
Pack: Packs are formed around powerful leaders and fighters, usually by threat,
fear, and force, and are consisted of Creations as well as rogue Vampires or
Vampyres. The underlings follow the leaders and these are basically killing
groups. Mating is not for producing children in vampire packs, it is for
filling blood and lust cravings, and often done in mass orgies and by brutal
force. Vampires have been known to rape their own pack members or the members
of another pack, but normally they spend their lusts on weaker humans or more
humane vampyres; in fact, they will often consider it a triumph for a pack to
capture a vampyre and pack rape it. When a pack encounters a lone human,
survival is never in the future; the pack will often rip the human to pieces
after filling their lust, feeding on the still living flesh of their tortured
prey. Lone vampires, not in packs, are less bloodthirsty and can surprisingly
sometimes be reasoned with. But a pack feeds off one another’s darkness and so
a lone vampire cannot break from a bloodlusting pack until the lust has died
down.
House: a house is run by a family head, a mature Alpha, though Betas or the
very rare mature Omega is not forbidden to run a house. Houses are expected to
offer sanctuary for clan members on a limited basis and every mature member of
the house is expected to participate in the smooth running of the house. A
house can refuse sanctuary to anyone that is perceived a threat, and in rare
cases even a clan member may be turned away if the threat is severe enough.
Clan members in the house owe their fealty to the head of that family, the
vampyre which runs the house. Guests are non-clan members staying temporarily
at the house and are treated with respect and courtesy due any guest, not
expected to work though not turned down if volunteering.
Clan House: a house run by the clan leader and open to all clan members for
hospitality, sanctuary, and even long-term boarding. Vampyres who live in the
clan house are expected in some way to contribute if asked, but do not have to
volunteer such help if not asked. Volunteering is merely polite. There is only
ever one clan house per city and none in smaller towns and villages. A clan
house can turn away non-clan members, but can only turn away a clan member if
the danger will threaten the entire house. In such a case, the clan leader is
expected to provide as much assistance as possible and guidance or access to
the closest safehouse.
Safehouse: a place run by an important clan leader or trusted leader, sometimes
even an elder, appointed by the Circle of Elders. Safehouses owe no affiliation
to a particular clan though the safehouse leader still identifies with its own
clan, thus a safehouse cannot turn away anyone claiming sanctuary, even in
extreme dangerous conditions. Every able member of a safehouse can be called
upon to defend those who are not able above and beyond regular clan loyalties.
There are even traditions of safehouses providing the last bastion of safety in
times of war against humans or vampires. A safehouse is also used to protect
vulnerable vampyres, often before they reach maturity, providing nurturing and
even surrogates if required. Victims which are rescued from rogues or packs or
hunters are brought to safehouses for initial care and determining if they need
further containment or can be nurtured into health and maturity. Safehouse
leaders are responsible for matching victims up with responsible mature
vampyres for care and guidance. A vampyre which brings in a newborn created by
accident by someone not yet mature enough to create one is never punished, only
praised for the rescue. The creator of said newborn is also not punished but it
guided, its sire being the one expected to receive any punishment required. IF
said sire was the one to bring in the accidental newborn, the sire is also
expected to bring in the creator of the newborn so the safehouse can ensure
proper guidance is carried out by the negligent sire. Rarely is a newborn taken
from a sire that has no other newborns, but it has been known to happen the
case of deliberate neglect or inability to nurture properly. In the case of an
Omega (non-mature but the sire is still present in the life of the non-mature),
the Omega is rarely taken from the Alpha sire, as this can cause a forcing.
However, if extreme abuse or neglect is detected, a forcing is more preferable
than continued abuse or neglect. Sometimes a fresh newborn is brought in by
someone after the sire is killed in a freak accident during the conversion or
in an interrupted conversion. The safehouse has Alphas on hand willing to step
in and finish the conversion and take over the newborn. Vampyre pups (young
born not converted) also can be in the safehouse for any number of similar
reasons to the converted victims. At times these pups are their with either the
Omega or Alpha parent, as well. Safehouses are large clan communities and all
mature and elders in the safehouse bear a responsibility to aid in the care of
those unable to care of themselves, with the leader having ultimate authority.
A safehouse leader is often someone in line to become an elder, even if that
status is still far off in the future, so being chosen to run a safehouse is a
great honor and responsibility. A safehouse has never fallen to enemies, and
some rumors abound that this is due to secret, ancient abilities the elders
grant to safehouse leaders for times of great need.
Containment: a general term in the vampyre culture which means to be locked up.
It can refer to a dangerous immature which needs permanent housing away from
the general populace, a rogue which has been caught and is being punished, or
even a captured vampire or criminal being housed while the Circle of Elders
decide what to do. Prisoners awaiting sentencing are never kept above a week, a
time which is used to study the individual and help inform the decision of the
ultimate fate of the prisoner, be it rogue, vampire, or criminal human.
Containment is never less than a week and can, in extreme cases, be for life.
More often than not, a sentence of death or banishment is carried out as long-
term containment is used for sick immatures who need protection and care rather
than for storing rule breakers.
Den: a term used for vampire homes no matter how many is in the pack, even a
solo vampire.
**********
SOME CLANS, ENERGY COLORS, AND ABILITIES:
Rogers: gold: strength, speed, fast regeneration, immunity to disease and
toxins
Romanov: vivid green: agility, high intelligence, stealth
Maximoff: red: fear manipulation, mind reading, telekinesis
Wilson: maroon: flight, communication with winged creatures, keen eyesight
Summers: orange: channel external energy, immunity to ultraviolet sickness
Storm: sapphire blue: create energy bursts, fly
Osborn: sickly green: channel energy into bursts of explosive toxins and
hallucinogens
Pryde: lilac: phase through things
Pym: dark grey: Size control, communication with insectoids
Xavier: soft yellow:> read and control minds, psychic attacks
Carter: silver: deadly aim, eagle sight, high intelligence, blend in among
humans
End Notes
     The end chapter will always be our ever-updating AU Terms. Thus,
     every time a new chapter is put up, look before the last one so you
     may find the story additions. We apologize if this is confusing, but
     we felt these terms would make your understanding of our AU more
     enjoyable.
     Thank you, Sam and Dani
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!