~Dan~
To hell with these psychopathic serial killers.
I was already having the shittiest week of my life when the call came in.
Three years chasing the Dollmaker, twelve bodies, zero arrests, and my team acting like we were playing hot potato with a live grenade every morning briefing. Jax kept saying we were close, which is profiler code for we're fucked and I'm lying to keep morale up. Lena would roll her eyes so hard I swear they made a sound, and Marcus, good old retired Marcus would just grunt over the speakerphone like he was disappointed in all of us personally. I didn't blame him. I was disappointed in me too.
That night I was driving home in the kind of rain that makes one question every life choice that led to me being thirty-four, single, and still answering calls at 11:47 p.m. The radio crackled. Dispatch, bored as hell: "Possible abduction in progress, warehouse district, Sector 7. The caller says omega, young, struggling.."
I didn't even think. Foot down, wipers slapping like they were pissed at the rain too. "I'm on it," I said, already knowing I'd regret it if I got there late and saw an omega on the ground.
The warehouse looked like every other abandoned shithole in this city broken windows, graffiti that stopped making sense years ago, puddles big enough to drown in. I parked crooked, killed the lights, grabbed my flashlight and sidearm. Heart hammering, not from fear, from the same dumb adrenaline that always shows up when I think I might actually save someone for once.
I kicked the side door. It felt like it was waiting for me. Inside smelled like rust . Then I heard it, soft whimpering, the kind that goes straight to your gut. I followed the sound, boots splashing, flashlight beam jumping like it had Parkinson's.
There he was.
Tied to a metal chair in the middle of an empty loading bay, head down, dark hair plastered to his face from the rain leaking through the roof. Small. Too small. The Omega scent hit me like someone punched me in the lungs, sweet, scared, and way too familiar, like I'd smelled it in a dream I couldn't remember. Bruises on his wrists, shirt torn at the shoulder, but no blood.
"Hey," I said, voice rougher than I meant. "Hey, kid, look at me." he looked like he just said hello to adulthood.
He lifted his head slowly. Big eyes, wet lashes, lips trembling. Jesus. He looked like he belonged on a milk carton, not in this dump.
"You're... you're real?" he whispered, like he couldn't believe it.
"Yeah, I'm real. Name's Daniel. I'm getting you out." I knelt, started on the ropes. They were sloppy knots, amateur hour. The guy who tied them clearly didn't know what he was doing, or maybe he didn't care. Either way, I had them off in seconds.
He didn't move right away. Just stared at me, breathing fast, then suddenly lunged forward and buried his face in my chest like I was the only solid thing in the world. Arms wrapped around my waist so tight I felt ribs protest.
"Thank you," he mumbled into my coat. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
I froze. Not because I didn't want to hold him, God, part of me really fucking wanted to but because my brain was screaming *protocol, Voss, protocol*. Station. Statement. Medical. Witness protection. Not... this.
But he was shaking so hard I could feel it through my shirt, and that scent was doing something stupid to my head. Alpha instincts are assholes sometimes.
"Easy," I said, one hand on his back, awkward as hell. "What's your name?"
"Sky," he said, muffled. "Just... Sky."
"Okay, Sky. Can you stand?"
He nodded against me, then tried. Legs buckled almost immediately. I caught him under the arms, swearing under my breath.
"Alright, we're doing this the easy way." I scooped him up, light as a damn feather and carried him out like a bride on her wedding night, except it was pouring rain and I was soaked to the bone and cursing every step.
He laughed. A tiny, broken sound against my neck. "You're strong."
"Yeah, well, I lift weights and regret my life choices. Hold on."
I got him in the passenger seat, buckled him in like he was five, turned the heat up full blast. He curled into the seat, knees to chest, watching me with those huge eyes while I drove.
"You hurt anywhere bad?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Just... scared. They grabbed me off the street. Said they were gonna kill me. I thought…. " His voice cracked. "I thought that was it."
I gripped the wheel tighter. "They're not killing anybody tonight. You're safe."
He reached over, small hand on my forearm. "You saved me."
I snorted. "Don't give me too much credit. I need you to tell me everything, did you see a face."
He shook his head "I saw nothing, nothing at all and and and…. ." He started having a panic attack.
"Jesus, kid, don't start with that. Breathe okay breathe."
"Okay. I'm okay ."
"You don't need to talk now okay. It's alright, you're safe with me."
"What about the cops, what if they start pressuring me."
"Cop here." I said.
No one's going to pressure you.
He was so innocent damn. He could literally make me not tell my team about this, even though this could be a great lead for us.
We drove in silence for a bit. Rain drumming on the roof. Him staring out the window, me trying not to stare at him.
I should've taken him straight to the station. I know that. I knew it then. But every time I thought about dropping him off in that hellhole with paperwork and questions and people staring at him like he was evidence, my stomach twisted.
So I took him home.
My apartment's nothing special, a number of bedrooms, big kitchens, couches with class, big TVs, one to a few cars. I mean my parents are politicians and always wanted me to be something big, I get a lot of money for some reason. Anyway I set him down on it, grabbed towels, a blanket, one of my old T-shirts.
"Here. Dry off. Bathroom's down the hall. Shower if you want. I'll make coffee or... tea? Do you drink tea?"
He blinked at me like I was speaking alien. "You... you're letting me stay?"
"Temporarily," I said, too fast. "Until we figure out who grabbed you. And get you checked out."
He nodded, slowly . Took the shirt. His fingers brushed mine and I felt it everywhere, which was ridiculous. I turned away, busied myself in the kitchen.
When he came back out, hair damp, swimming in my shirt, looking even smaller, I almost dropped the mug.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just... you look like you're drowning in that thing."
He tugged at the hem, shy smile again. "Smells like you. Safe."
I cleared my throat. "Right. Sit. Drink this." I handed him tea. He wrapped both hands around it like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held.
We sat there. Him on the couch, me in the armchair across from him, trying not to look like a creep.
"So," I said. "Tell me what happened. From the beginning."
He did. Voice quiet, halting. Walking home from a late shift at some diner. Van pulls up. Two guys. Grabbed him. Bag over his head. Drove. Dumped him in the warehouse. Tied him up. He can't remember from there.
I listened. I took notes on my phone. Every detail felt off like a script. Too clean. Too convenient. But he was shaking again, so I didn't push.
"You're safe here," I said again, because I didn't know what else to say.
He looked up. Eyes shiny. "I know."
Then, quiet: "Can I... stay? Just tonight? Please?"
I sighed. Long and dramatic. The kind of sigh that says *I'm an idiot and I know it*.
"Yeah. The room next to mine is yours."
He smiled so bright it hurt. "Thank you, Dan."
I stood up. "Don't thank me yet. Tomorrow we will go to the station. Full report. Medical. The works."
He nodded, but his smile didn't fade. "I don't know if I'm okay…. ."
I headed for the hallway, stopped. "Sky?"
"Yeah?"
"If you need anything... just yell. I'm right there."
He pulled his hand up to his chin. Eyes to the side and tugged a shy cute smile, "I will."
I closed the door to the spare room, leaned against it, forehead to wood.
What the hell was I doing?
I didn't sleep much. I kept replaying it. The abduction. The ropes. The way he clung. That scent.
Around 3 a.m. I got up, checked on him. He was curled on the bed , breathing slowly , peacefully. One hand clutching the edge of my shirt like it was a lifeline.
I stood there way too long.
I think I've seen this story before I thought, and I didn't like the end.