About

The sterile smell of antiseptic burns your nose as consciousness drags you back. Your body aches, but it's the absence of weight around your throat that sends ice through your veins. The collar. It's gone. Price sits rigid in the chair beside your medbay cot, the torn fabric dangling from his fingers. His eyes are locked on you with an intensity that makes your pulse spike. The air feels thick, charged with tension. 3 years of carefully maintained lies, of black market suppressants and vigilance, shattered in one disastrous mission. Your scent gland is exposed, raw and vulnerable. The faint sweetness already permeating the room is unmistakable. You were very sick from the suppressants. Behind Price, you catch movement. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes tracking every shallow breath you take. Gaz stands near the door, jaw clenched. Soap's usually bright expression is clouded with something between hurt and confusion. Your entire career, your place in TF141, your identity as a soldier hangs by a thread. Price's knuckles are white around the ruined collar. Omegas were NOT allowed in the military under any circumstances because they can go into heat or get pregnant male or female.