Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nicky was halfway through his third handful of popcorn when Andrew closed the bedroom door behind him. The sound was soft but final, a note of inevitability in the air. Nicky shifted on the beanbag, reaching for the remote to turn the volume down on the old exy game playing quietly in the background. Kevin was sprawled next to him, eyes glued to the screen paying rapt attention to the old game.

Before Nicky could take another bite, Andrew’s voice cut through the room. "Give me your keys."

Nicky blinked, confused. "Uh… keys to what?"

Kevin glanced up, his frown deepening. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Andrew’s eyes never flickered. "To the dorm. Hand them over. Then get out."

Nicky froze, popcorn halfway to his mouth. There was something wrong. Andrew’s voice was too calm, too still. It was the kind of calm Nicky had learned to be afraid of the kind that meant something happening. Kevin didn’t seem to notice, his anger flaring up fast.

"What? Why?" Kevin shot up from the beanbag, defensive, his voice sharp. "This is my room too. What the hell’s going on?"

Andrew’s gaze darkened, his jaw set in that way that made it clear there was no room for debate. "I didn’t ask for a debate. Give me your keys and leave."

Kevin opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get another word out, Nicky sat up straighter, sniffing the air. His gut twisted, a pit of dread forming before his thoughts could catch up. He hadn’t smelled it at first his beta nose being weaker and Andrews unshakable presence overpowering but now it hit him full force. The scent, thick and undeniable. The sickly sweet scent of an omega going into heat.

Nicky’s eyes widened. "Oh," he said softly, under his breath. "Oh shit."

Andrew’s eyes snapped to him like a warning shot. The silence in the room was thick, suffocating.

Nicky’s voice dropped low, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer. "Why do you smell like that?" he asked, a little incredulously. "Is Neil- fuck, is Neil going into heat?"

Andrew didn’t answer, and honestly, he didn’t have to. The way he stood, his shoulders rigid, told Nicky everything he needed to know.

A cold wave of clarity swept over him and he stood up quickly, brushing popcorn off his pants. "Okay. Okay. Got it." His voice was brisk, too brisk don’t make this worse for them. He turned to Kevin, grabbing his bag with quick movements. "Yeah. Come on, Kevin."

Kevin wasn’t moving. The beta looked between Nicky and Andrew, his scowl deepening. "I’m not leaving just because-"

"You are," Nicky snapped, cutting him off, already crossing the room to grab the keys from Kevin’s pocket. The words didn’t sound like a suggestion.

This wasn’t about territory or control. It wasn’t about rules. This was about giving Andrew and Neil the space to fall apart without the rest of them hovering. This was serious "Let’s go. Now. We’re not doing this."

Kevin muttered something under his breath, low and venomous, but Nicky didn’t care. He reached out and grabbed Kevin’s arm, steering him toward the door.

"You’re really going to make me drag you?" Nicky muttered, frustration threading through his voice.

Kevin didn’t answer, but he finally fished his keys out of his pocket, tossing them toward Andrew without looking. They clattered onto the floor, and Nicky gave Kevin a final push toward the door. "Let’s go," he said, sharp. "I’ll explain it to Matt and Aaron."

Kevin’s only response was another grumbled insult, but Nicky was too busy grabbing his things to care.

The door slammed shut behind them and Kevin was still fuming, muttering under his breath as the heavy slam echoing down the hall. Nicky exhaled. His palms were sweating, his heart racing. Kevin muttered something under his breath, venomous and loud, but Nicky let it slide too distracted with something else.

Andrew had stayed.

Andrew was in there. With Neil going into heat. By choice.

“I can’t believe this shit,” kevin muttered, throwing his hands up in a dramatic display of exasperation, voice carrying through the hallway.

The door to the girls’ dorm creaked open. Dan stepped out, eyes sharp and alert. She took one look at Kevin’s wild gestures and Nicky’s tense posture, and her brows knit with concern. Matt emerged a second later, rubbing sleep from his eyes, already frowning

“What’s going on?” Dan asked, squinting at the two of them.

“Not out here,” Nicky hissed, tugging Kevin toward Matt and Aaron’s dorm. His heart was still racing, and he couldn’t decide if it was fear, adrenaline, or secondhand panic. Probably all three. The spiraling anxiety that made you laugh too loud or cry without warning. “Come on.”

Dan and Matt exchanged glances but followed. The others trailed behind, curiosity piqued by the tension in the air. Aaron, already inside, looked up in annoyance as nearly the entire team funneled into the dorm.

“Whats going on?” Aaron asked unimpressed that they’d interrupted his morning routine of existential brooding and instant ramen.

“Okay, okay,” Nicky said, rubbing his hands down his face and trying to arrange his words into something coherent. “So, it’s like this…” He looked at Kevin, who was pacing and took a deep breath. “Neil’s going into heat and Andrew kicked us out.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. Like the room exhaled all at once and then Allison raised her brows, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across her face. “Well that explains the territorial posturing.” She looked to Nicky with a dry tilt of her head. “You better hope he remembered to stock up on condoms and electrolytes.”

Nicky managed a weak chuckle, but it sounded more like air wheezing out of a balloon. “Pretty sure he didn’t. This morning was normal like very extremely normal then bam, keys are gone, and I’m in the hallway with popcorn butter still on my fingers. Andrew kicked us out before I even had time to put on my shoes.”

Dan blinked. “Wait- Neil didn’t know it was coming?”

“Nope.” Nicky leaned back against the door, exhaling slowly. “I don’t think so, at least. Andrew didn’t look like he knew and if Neil knew it was coming then he would have told Andrew. One minute we’re watching old exy games, the next Andrew’s got that ‘I will end you’ look and Kevin’s about to be murdered.”

Kevin finally cut in, his voice less heated now but no less irritated. “This is going to wreck our schedule. We’ve got scrimmages. Conditioning. He can’t just drop off the face of the earth. This is going to throw the whole team”

And there it was. Nicky winced. Of course Kevin made it about exy.

Matt frowned at him. “You’re seriously thinking about Exy right now?”

Kevin’s jaw flexed. “Of course im thinking about exy right now this is-”

“Neil’s not just an exy player,” Renee said softly, sitting cross legged on the couch. “He’s a person. And right now he’s going through something really intense.”

Kevin made a frustrated noise but didn’t argue further. Nicky figured that was the closest they’d get to agreement.

Aaron rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Why can’t they just get a fucking hotel or something so the rest of us don’t have to deal with this?”

There was that perfect combination of inconvenience and self absorption his cousin was so fond of. Nicky shot him a look, but Matt beat him to responding.

“You mean so you don’t have to deal with it?”

Aaron didn’t answer, which said enough.

Nicky sighed and flopped back onto the couch net to Renee, dragging a hand through his hair. His thoughts were still racing, darting between worry for Neil, the weight of Andrews silent command, and a thousand things he couldn’t fix. He wanted to help, but help meant leaving. Help meant getting out of the way. “Look, I’m not thrilled about being exiled, but it’s not like Andrew gave us much choice. We’re just lucky he didn’t deck Kevin.”

Kevin muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like He wouldn’t dare.

Allison smirked, perched on the edge of Matts’s desk. “Please. If Andrew wanted you unconscious, you wouldn’t have made it to the hallway.”

“So,” Allison continued, pulling her phone out of her back pocket with a mischievous glint in her eye and self satisfied smirk, “who had today in the pool?”

Nicky groaned internally. He was a little relieved it was brought up joking about it made it feel manageable. Even when it really, really wasn’t

Matt groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Goddamn it. I was three days off.”

Dan perked up, already digging into her own phone. “Wait, are we counting first signs or full onset? Because if Neil only started feeling it this morning-”

“From the way Andrew acted,” Nicky cut in “and smelled? Neil’s probably full-on feral right now, so I’m gonna say today counts.” He said it lightly, but the memory of Andrew snatching the keys and slamming the door still made the hair on the back of Nicky’s neck stand up. That hadn’t just been an alpha reacting to an omega in heat. That had been Andrew. Possessive, calculating, and unflinchingly in control. Except for how much he clearly wasn’t.

“Then that’s my win,” Allison said, flashing her screen to Dan smugly. “Told you it would happen the first week of March. I called it as soon as Neil stopped taking his suppressants. Never bet about heats against an omega. Pay up.”

Dan sighed and pulled out her wallet. She muttered something about being a sore winner under hear breath and handed over a crisp twenty.

Nicky snorted. Fair. It did feel vaguely cursed to be profiting off Neil’s rapidly derailing endocrine system, but also twenty bucks was twenty bucks

Matt leaned against the wall and shook his head. “I still can’t believe they didn’t prep for it. I thought Andrew would have planned this down to the second locked down with written contracts and backup plans.” he said only half joking

“Right?” Nicky said, exasperated. “Andrew treats the grocery list like a war strategy, but apparently didn’t think to buy a heat kit. No nesting materials, not even a heads up to the rest of us?” And wasn’t that the thing that stuck with him. If they had given them a heads up, they could’ve helped. Gotten Neil supplies. Warned Coach. Bought like three boxes of gatorade and some goddamn soft blankets. But no instead Nicky was out here in yesterday’s socks and Neil was probably curled into a ball somewhere high on endorphins and body heat.

Aaron scoffed. “I had fifty on Andrew locking the door and ignoring him completely.”

“Joke’s on you,” Allison said, tucking the money Dan gave her into her bra like a true professional. “They’re probably nesting together in tense, aggressive silence. Andrew's version of aftercare is probably growling less.”

“Hot,” Matt said under his breath.

“Gross,” Aaron replied at the same time nose wrinkling

Kevin, still sulking on the edge of the couch and watching them with rising horror, finally snapped to attention “You guys were placing bets on this?”

Nicky looked completely unapologetic. “Obviously. The tension was unbearable. Someone had to make it fun.” And yeah, maybe it was kind of awful. But so was tiptoeing around Andrew and Neil’s ever escalating eye contact and post practice cooldowns that looked suspiciously like pre sex arguments. Humor was a survival mechanism. If Nicky didn’t laugh about it, he might cry.

“You’re all insane,” Kevin muttered.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get in on it,” Dan said with a grin, pushing him farther over as she sat beside him.

“We would’ve cut you in,” Allison added airily, inspecting her manicure. “But you were too busy pretending Neil was going to stay on suppressants forever and definitely wasn’t about to throw himself at Andrew like he had a horny death wish.”

Aaron made a gagging noise that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul, and Kevin scowled deeper, crossing his arms like the collective stupidity of the room had physically offended him. He glanced at the time on his phone and immediately did a double take. “Shit. We’re late for practice!”

Nicky blinked. Seriously? That was what finally broke through?

Kevins entire posture shifted from sulking to panicked in under a second. “Move,” he barked, already spinning toward the door. “Let’s go! We’re already going to be messed up with Neil and Andrew out we can’t afford to lose more practice time!”

The rest of the Foxes groaned in unison but started scrambling to follow anyway. Matt tossed Aaron his water bottle. Dan yanked on Matts hoodie that was tossed on the back of the couch. Nicky muttered about obnoxious assholes, and they poured out of the dorms like a disorganized herd rather than professional athletes.

By the time they reached the court, Wymack was already standing on the edge of the field, arms crossed, face like thunder. Which was just great. Nothing like being late to practice and having to explain that your two missing teammates, one of which is your cousin, were currently off playing house in the middle of a hormonal meltdown.

“You’re all late,” he said flatly. “Where the hell are Minyard and Josten?”

The Foxes skidded to a collective stop. Nicky tried not to pant too loudly. He was not in shape for surprise cardio. His thighs were going to murder him later. Maybe Kevin had a small point about missing practice not that he’d ever admit that too him.

Dan opened her mouth. Closed it.

Kevin looked like he was physically choking on his own tongue.

Allison, completely unfazed bless her terrifying soul, popped her gum. “They’re… indisposed.”

Nicky winced. That was one way to say it. Technically true. Emotionally scarring but still true.

Wymacks narrowed his eyes. “Indisposed how?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Nicky let out a long suffering sigh. “Neil went into heat this morning.” he said, with all the weary resignation of a man who’d seen things or more accurately smelled things that made him want to scrub his memory clean with bleach.

Matt winced. Renee offered a sympathetic smile.

“And Andrew,” Dan added very, very carefully, “is... managing it.”

There was a silence so thick you could’ve cut it with a racquet. Wymack blinked. “Jesus Christ.”

Kevin looked like he wanted to sink into the turf running a hand down his face like he was trying to wipe the days memory out of his mind.

Same, buddy Nicky thought. Same.

Wymack pinched the bridge of his nose, that was never a good sign. “I need to call Abby.”

“No, no, they’re fine,” Nicky said quickly stepping forward with his hands up like he could physically block the incoming phone call. “Andrew has it handled. I mean...as handled as anything can be with those two.”

Which was to say not at all. They were probably locked in a stare off right now, hissing like feral cats between rounds of weirdly intense handholding or something equally weird. But alive, at least. Safe. Maybe

Wymack looked up at the sky like he was begging whatever higher power existed for patience. “Neil’s spent a dangerously long time suppressing his omega side. Now it’s coming out full force. He’s not fine. I’m calling Abby.”

The rest of the Foxes tensed. They already knew this but hearing it out loud made the whole thing feel heavier. More real. Like this wasn’t just a drama filled day of jokes about Andrews glaring-as-a-love-language. This was serious.

They all knew how normal heats worked but Neil wasn’t normal. He’d been suppressing for years. That couldn’t have been healthy. And none of them knew what it might look like now. Nicky felt a pit open in his stomach. How bad was it behind that locked door?

Wymack dropped his hand and leveled them with a glare. “We’re not canceling practice just because our two most volatile players are off doing hormone-fueled damage to my dorm furniture. Let’s go. Laps.”

Kevin didn’t even wait for the rest of them he was already running, halfway through the first turn of the field before the rest of the foxes even got moving. Nicky dragged his feet after the others, chest tight, head buzzing. What if Andrew can’t handle it?

Chapter Text

Wymack watched the Foxes scatter into warmups Kevin was already barking orders, but it was clear no one’s head was in the game not even his. 

With a muttered curse, Wymack turned away from the field and stepped off to the far edge of the bleachers, far enough that the team wouldn’t hear but close enough that he could keep an eye on them. He dug into his jacket pocket for his phone, hands already dialing before he had even fully thought about it. 

Abby picked up on the second ring. 

“What now?” she said dryly, no hello, just battle worn readiness that came from years of cleaning up after this team’s messes. 

Wymack exhaled, watching Kevin snap at Aaron, business as usual. Except it wasn’t. Not today. 

“Neil’s gone into heat,” he said, low.  

There was a beat of silence. Then, “Shit.” 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Andrews in there with him. Kicked Nicky and Kevin out of the dorm this morning” 

“Are they okay?” 

Wymack rubbed a hand over his jaw, eyes still tracking his team. Renee and Dan were trying to run drills. Matt had just narrowly missed catching a ball to his face, he laughed it off, but even from here, Wymack could see the tension behind it. “Hard to say. Nicky said it hit without warning. Neil didn’t even know it was coming.” 

Abby swore quietly on the other end. “That’s not good. With how long he’s been suppressing…” 

Neil was a trauma bomb with a death wish and a paper thin sense of self preservation. Whatever was happening behind that dorm door scared him more than he wanted to admit. 

“I know.” Wymack’s voice was low. “It’s gonna be bad. And I don’t know what kind of state Andrew’s in either.” 

Andrew who operated on ritual and precision, now locked in a dorm room with his boyfriend going into heat. Wymack trusted him with Neil for the most part but instincts could do strange things to people and Andrew had never exactly been stable to begin with. 

Abby sighed, and Wymack could hear her already pulling up her schedule. “I’ll try to get there later today, see them myself, maybe take them some supplies at the very least, offer some advice as someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doing.” 

Wymack barked a short laugh that was humorless and rough around the edges “You’re saying Andrew doesn’t?” 

“I’m saying Andrew would burn the world down for Neil” Abby replied without hesitation “but I'm pretty sure heats are very far out of his element.” 

He tilted his head toward the court again, watching Kevin yank a ball out of Aaron’s hands and immediately get cursed out. A mess. All of it 

Wymack grunted. “Yeah, shit that's probably true” Because love, and he's pretty sure thats what it was, didn’t automatically translate into knowledge and Andrew wasn’t exactly known for his flexible thinking. If things started spiraling he might shut down or lash out. And Neil barely understood it himself. They’d all known he was an omega for a while now, but that hadn’t meant anything. He’d stayed buried in instinct suppressing routines, shoving every part of that identity into a locked box and throwing away the key. Until now. 

“Do you think he’ll even let you in the room right now?” Wymack asked, and the question felt heavier than it should have. It wasn’t just about logistics. It was about if Andrew could recognize and accept help when it showed up. 

“I don't know” Abby admitted “but if not, I can atleast leave some stuff for them outside the door” 

Wymack nodded even though she couldn’t see him. Supplies. Help. Anything. Because no matter how much Andrew loved Neil, this wasn’t about loyalty or violence or control. This was biology, instinct, and trauma all colliding in one enclosed space, and that was a cocktail he wouldn’t wish on anyone 

He watched Kevin intercept a pass with too much force, the ball ricocheting off the wall and nearly hitting Aaron in the head. The twin flipped him off, clearly not in the mood for whatever half baked drill Kevin was forcing them through. 

Wymack sighed again, lower this time. “They’re all rattled. Even Kevin’s hanging on by a thread.” 

Kevin, who treated exy like religion, who would probably marry a playbook if we could, looked like he wanted to put his head through the wall. Neil and Andrew weren’t just players to him. They were something like anchors. And now one was gone, the other had followed, and the rest of the team had no idea how to stay afloat. 

“They’ll hold it together,” Abby said, her voice firm. “They always do. But I’ll come by. Just keep an eye on them.” 

“I always do.” 

When the call ended, Wymack shoved the phone back into his pocket and lit a cigarette he shouldn’t technically have on school property. He didn’t care. He needed the steady burn, the familiar sting in his lungs. 

He looked back out over the court. His team was a disaster. His best striker was in heat somewhere with a boyfriend who had all the emotional range of a switchblade. And he couldn’t do anything but wait. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, watching Matt trip over a cone. 

Kevin was still barking orders no one listened to, his voice sharp and desperate. Dan was trying to wrangle the chaos, slipping into captain mode out of pure necessity. Allison was refusing to run, her arms crossed like this whole thing was beneath her, which it probably was. Aaron was dragging his feet like the floor had personally insulted him. 

It wasn’t a practice. It was a slow motion implosion in coordinated uniforms. 

He trusted Andrew enough to put Neil’s safety in his hands but this this was different. Neil’s heat wasn’t just about biology. It was a tidal wave breaking through years of ironclad suppression and all he could do was hope that Andrew had some idea what to do with the wreckage. 

Wymack flicked the cigarette into the trash can beside him wishing he could flick the whole damn situation with it 

He couldn’t fix what was happening behind that dorm door. But he could keep the rest of the team moving. That had to be enough for now. 

Chapter Text

The moment the call with David ended, Abby was on her feet, tension propelling towards the closet where she pulled a duffle from with practiced efficiency, mind already running ahead of her hands. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to assemble a heat kit. 

She moved quickly but methodically, checking off her mental list as she went. 

Soft blankets, one weighted for grounding, and one fleece for comfort. They’d need both. 

A pack of wet wipes. unscented. Gentle. Practical 

A box of knot-safe condoms, discreet but necessary. 

Plan B pills, because she was sure they would be needed at this point. 

Liquid I.V. drink mix in citrus and acai. Electrolytes were important and she doubted Neil would want to take a lot of breaks to hydrate, it was best to have something that packed as much electrolytes as possible into each sip.  

Prepackaged snacks some protein bars, apple sauce pouches, fruit leathers, and a few packs of honey straws. He was going to need some quick calories. 

A bottle of scent blocker spray, tucked beside a calming lavender spray she kept for anxious students. Even if they didn’t use it, it felt right to bring. 

She paused again, then reached into her own dresser and pulled out one of her old oversized hoodies. Worn thin in spots, but clean and soft. A neutral scent. Something that she’d worn on long nights in her office, that had comforted dozens of anxious kids over the years. 

She hesitated with it in her hands for just a moment, then folded it carefully and placed it inside the bag.  

Finally, she threw in a pair of cooling packs just in case Neil’s body tipped too far into overheating. It wasn't unlikely to happen, after years of suppressants his body would likely not do well at managing the heat. She zipped the bag closed and slung it over her shoulder with a practiced motion. 

The bag was heavy. The situation heavier. 

Abby didn’t let herself sit in that weight for long. She moved. 

By the time she reached the court, practice was still limping along. The energy on the field was brittle and forced. Tension radiated from the team. Wymack stood with his arms folded, barking corrections like they were lifelines. 

She walked up quietly, setting the bag down beside her feet. “David” 

Wymack glanced over and gave her a slight nod, jaw tight but his shoulders dropped just a fraction at the sight of her. “Glad you came.” 

“They holding up?” she asked, her voice low as her eyes swept the field, cataloging damage. 

Kevin was snapping at Aaron, who looked like he wanted to deck him. Dan and Renee were holding the line, but even their movements were off, exhausted, mechanical. Matt had just tripped over the same cone twice. Allison hadn’t even bothered tying her hair back. The team was functioning, but only just. 

“They’ll get through it,” Wymack muttered his gaze drifted toward the dorms, far off but visible from here. Abby followed his gaze briefly, then turned her attention back to the team. 

During a water break, she moved through them quietly. 

She brushed her hand gently across Renee’s back as a silent check in. She murmured a few words to Dan, steady and quiet, letting the calm in her voice pass between them like a balm. 

Kevin refused to meet her eyes. That wasn’t a surprise. He stood stiffly near the bench, arms crossed, shoulders locked in tension. Angry, probably. Or ashamed. Maybe both. He hated when things fell out of his control, and this was very much out of his control. 

Nicky looked like he wanted to fold himself into her arms. For a second, Abby thought he might. His eyes were glassy, and there was a tremor in his smile that didn’t quite land. But in the end, he just gave her a crooked little wave, full of guilt and worry, and turned back toward the field. 

None of them asked about Neil or Andrew. Not out loud atleast but the questions hung in the air, thick and unspoken. 

Eventually, Wymack blew the whistle and called them in. The players trudged over like soldiers returning from battle, all bruised pride and worn edges. Abby stepped forward. 

“Alright,” she said gently, just loud enough to cut through the quiet hum of exhaustion. “I’m heading over to check on Neil and Andrew. Before I go, does anyone have anything soft? Clothes, blankets anything clean and safe to scent a nest with?” 

There was a beat of silence, like none of them had quite expected to be included in this. Then awkward motion. 

Dan was the first to move, digging into her bag and handing over an oversized jersey. “He liked this one,” she said quietly she said, voice low, like it was something private she was sharing. Abby took it with a nod, folding it deliberately. 

Renee offered a scarf, soft with wear. “It still smells like lavender,” she said, like it mattered. Of course it mattered. Abby didn’t say that out loud, but she felt it bloom in her chest. That lingering scent could be everything. 

Matt gave up a clean hoodie, worn and warm from being buried under his gear. Even Aaron, keeping his eyes on to ground, peeled off his zipup and tossed it without a word. A peace offering in scowl form. 

Allison rolled her eyes and fished out a cashmere wrap from her gym bag. “Don’t ask why I had that. Just take it.” 

Abby didn’t blink. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

Kevin was next. He hesitated, clearly weighing something, and then pulled off his faded Foxes sweatshirt, the one with frayed cuffs he never wore on court but always packed anyway. He didn’t say a word as he handed it over. 

And then Nicky. 

He hesitated, hands twitching at the hem of something he pulled out of his bag. He stepped forward and held out a soft, worn T-shirt that smelled faintly of vanilla. laundry soap and cologne. “It’s mine,” he said quietly. “They’ve got stuff in the dorm that smells like me but I wanted to give something, too.” Abby took it gently, eyes warm. Of course he did.

Abby folded each item carefully, like they were offerings, and packed them into the duffle alongside the practical supplies. These weren’t just soft things. They were familiar things. Scented with safety, with loyalty, with something like home. 

“Thank you,” she said, sincere and even. “This will help.” 

Then she turned, duffle over her shoulder, and headed to her car. 

She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, letting the quiet press in around her. For a moment, she just sat there with her hands still and her back pressed against the seat trying to steady the frantic rhythm of her heart. Then she pulled out her phone and dialed.  

“Abby,” Bee answered, voice warm but alert, cutting through the cabin like a soft beam of light. She always picked up fast when Abby called outside work hours. “What’s going on?” 

Abby didn’t waste time. “Neil’s gone into heat. It hit fast no warning. Andrews in there with Neil now.” 

There was a long pause. Abby could almost hear Bee setting aside whatever she’d been doing now focusing fully on the phone call. 

“Is Andrew managing?” Bee asked gently. 

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Abby’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “this is a lot. Neil’s been suppressing for years, and now it’s crashing down on both of them.” 

Bee exhaled softly, the sound more thoughtful than anxious. “He’ll do everything in his power to protect Neil. That won’t change, no matter how chaotic it gets.” 

“I know,” Abby said, quiet but firm. She’d seen he way Andrew looked at Neil, like violence and tenderness lived in the same breath. “That’s not what concerns me.” What tightened her chest was the memory of two boys barely out of childhood, both shaped by hands that had hurt instead of helped. Two boys who were still learning what it meant to be safe in their own skin, much less in someone else’s presence. 

Bee hummed, thoughtful. “If Andrew’s chosen to be in that room, it’s because he believes he can handle it.” A pause. Then “Abby you’re doing what you can. That’s what matters right now.” 

Abby nodded, even though Bee couldn’t see it. She focused on the road, the familiar turns of campus streets sliding past like background noise. “Thanks. Truly.” 

“Anytime.” 

Bee’s voice lingered in Abby’s ears even after the call ended, a low balm against the thrum of her own nerves grounding her as she pulled into the parking lot. 

She took the long way through campus. The air was heavy and damp, the kind that stuck to skin and made everything feel slower. Still, Abby moved with purpose. 

The hallway outside the dorms was still, hushed in the way dorm buildings got when the rest of the team was already out. She passed a hoodie one of the boys had dropped earlier, draped over a railing like a forgotten flag. She adjusted the duffle on her shoulder and kept going. 

At the top of the stairs, she paused, taking a breath. The door ahead was marked with a small, curling paper star, one of Nicky’s ridiculous touches. It was slightly askew. 

Abby raised a hand and knocked. Once, firm. Then twice more. 

She waited. 

Behind the door, the silence wasn’t quite empty. Not loud, either. But it had a thickness to it. A hum, like tension coiled too tight to move. 

She imagined Andrew, coiled just the same way, body locked down in quiet control, mind burning through worst case scenarios, contingency plans. She imagined Neil, curled up deep in the center of it all, scent drunk and buried and not entirely present. 

Abby kept her stance calm, feet planted steady beneath her, even as her thoughts pressed forward, reaching toward them both. She wouldn’t push so she waited. All she could do was be here as a steady presence. 

The duffle hung at her side, heavy with supplies. Every item inside had been chosen with purpose . She waited for a full minute after the last knock, listening. Nothing. No footsteps, no shifting, no reply. Abby glanced down the hall its still quiet. No one else around. 

She tried again, voice low but clear enough to carry through the door. “It’s me. Abby. I brought some things that might help.” 

The silence stretched. She didn’t press, just stood still, letting her presence speak for itself. She knew Andrew well enough to know he would open that door when he was ready and not a second before. 

Then, finally, softly, the click of the lock. 

The door cracked open and Andrew stood there, framed in the narrow slice of dorm light. He looked exhausted his eyes shadowed, hair flattened on one side, jaw tight like he hadn’t unclenched it in hours. But beneath all of that, Abby saw something steadier. Something better than she’d expected. 

He wasn’t panicked. 

He wasn’t shut down in that flat, unreachable stillness she’d seen before. 

He was tired. But he was here. 

He was managing . 

When the door opened fully, the scent hit her like a wave thick, heavy and unmistakable. Lust and heat and need wrapped around each other in a heady visceral tangle that caught at the back of her throat but underneath it, deeper, there was something else. 

Contentment.  

Safety.  

Happiness  

Andrew didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. 

Abby offered the duffle gently, holding it out with both hands like it was something sacred. “There are supplies in here,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Blankets, scent blockers, electrolyte mix, snacks, wipes, condoms, Plan B, make sure he takes that," Her voice dipped slightly, the scent of sex already heavy in the air" Things to make it easier. And I asked the others for soft things to scent a nest with.” 

Andrew took the bag without a word, but his hands didn’t shake. That, too, was something.  

“You can call me,” Abby said, softer now. “Or Bee. Anytime. If you need anything or if you just need someone to talk to.” 

He gave the faintest nod. Not a dismissal, not acceptance either, just acknowledgment. 

Abby held his gaze for a beat longer. Then she smiled small, sure and proud and stepped back. 

She didn’t ask to come in and she didn’t ask about Neil. She didn’t need to. 

The door would stay closed for now. That was the boundary. But it didn’t feel like a wall. It felt like a threshold guarded by someone who was protecting , not shutting out. 

They were okay. 

Bruised around the edges, yes. This would take something out of them. But inside that room, there was safety. There was care. 

She turned and walked away, the quiet click of the door closing behind her. 

The scent faded as she made her way down the hall, but the warmth lingered. Her boys were going to be okay. 

And that was enough