Chapter Text
Billy was sold the day after he presented. His father dragged him from California, where Omegas were societal equals, to Indiana, where the Omega slave trade flourished. Neil had hoped for an Alpha, an Omega was as only as good to him as the price you could get for one. Billy was a looker, a stunner, baby blue eyes, pouty lips, golden curls, and a bad attitude. He sold for a record high price at auction, Neil drove away from Indiana a few million dollars richer.
So now, Billy was sixteen, and already in the hands of his first master. But Billy wasn't easy to break in, placing mating bites on him that would normally force a bond to his Alpha owner didn't phase him, neither did just flat out threats and torture. Billy was determined to remain unbroken.
Eventually his captor grew bored with constantly having to force a scruffing collar on Billy to rape him, and Billy was sold again.
And again.
And then again.
Billy broke somewhere near the end of his time with his fifth master. By then, he wasn't so pretty anymore. Thin, gaunt. Glazed over and sunken eyes. Greasy hair and bruised skin. He didn't move, didn't talk. He was wheeled out into the auction room in a wheelchair by a Beta, paralyzed by a scruffing collar, naked and cold. He was shaking from it, which was more moving than he’d done in days. The auction topped out at $1,050,000. Clearly, whoever bought him had no idea what they were getting into.
The limousine was the nicest Billy had seen. He knew about cars. This was a custom job. Even in his fogged mind, he knew enough to know this person was asininely rich. There was a Beta waiting for him at the car door, who upon seeing him seemed almost disgusted by Billy. Like he was mortified by Billy’s presence. He looked inside the limo incredulously, clearly giving a look to wherever was inside. Billy was unceremoniously hauled from the wheelchair and handed over to the Beta. Billy must have gotten small, because he was held up easily as he was carefully placed into the limousine.
Billy curled into the fetal position as his collar was removed, able to move again. He was so cold. The door shut behind him as the Beta said “We’ll talk about this later.” In an irritated tone.
The limo reeked of weed. Billy used to smoke, back in Cali, as a teen. It was an oddly comforting smell. Behind that smell was the smell of an Alpha. And that smell grew closer, and suddenly Billy was scrambling away from a touch to his back. As his world came back into focus, he saw him, his new Alpha.
Kind, worried brown eyes. Soft looking lips and dusky skin. Long, dark hair that hung over one shoulder in a braid. He was young, he couldn't have been much older than Billy. He reached his hand out, other hand holding the scruffing collar, which he tossed to the side like it offended him. “It's okay… you’re safe.”
His voice was soft, gentle.
“That's it…” the Alpha smiled softly at Billy as he tentatively moved closer, lest he upset the Alpha. “Come here-” he started to take his jacket off, pulling Billy onto the bench seat and draping it around him. “Let's get you warm.”
The coat smelled like unbridled heaven. Like weed smoke and leather and amber. He didn't smell sour like the other Alphas Billy had been forced to serve.
“My name is Argyle.” The Alpha said, looking like he was about to reach out, but then deciding against it. “... Do you have a name?”
Billy didn't actually remember his name very often. Usually he was addressed by “Omega trash”, “you there”, “little fucker”, things of that nature. But right now, he remembered it. He couldn't, however, speak it. He hadn't spoken in nearly a year. He didn't make sounds other than the types that appeased Alphas during his rapes. Anything to get it over with faster, so they could have him dragged away and washed up to wait for next time. Billy was, to himself and his captors, simply a worn out sex doll.
In any case, he couldn't bring himself to speak, so he simply shook his head.
Argyle looked sad. Like he pitied Billy, which Billy didn't much care for. He wasn't something people should waste their time pitying.
He flinched away when Argyle suddenly leaned in, trying to smell at his scent glands. Billy froze, waiting for a punishment for doing something so disobedient, but instead…
“I’m so sorry-” Argyle started.
Why was he apologizing?
“I should have asked if I could smell you, it's just- you don't have a smell. I was seeing if it was just faint, but…” Argyle blushed deep red. Billy could have laughed.
But oh, his scent. Argyle really didn't know about the trade. Artificial scent markers to keep him smelling “ready” ate away at Billy’s natural scent years ago.
When the limo stopped, Billy forgot about the small amount of calm he had found. His eyes darted around, hands gripping the edge of his seat. He could hear loud things, the sound of planes taking off and landing, they were at an airport.
Argyle stepped out of the limo, trying to coax Billy out, offering his hand. “Come on… we’re going to California. Omegas are-”
“California…” Billy murmured, eyes widening. “Home…” He reached for Argyle’s hand, taking it, stepping shakily out of the limo and onto the tarmac, barefooted and naked sans Argyle’s jacket against the night air. A small plane was waiting for them, clearly a private jet. In the doorway stood a man, another Alpha.
“So you can speak.” Argyle smiled. “And don’t worry about Steve. He’s Jonathan’s Alpha.”
The Beta (who Billy presumed was Jonathan) who had carried Billy stepped out of the limo, handing the keys off before stepping up into the plane, right into the arms of the Alpha in the doorway. They kissed and scented each other, which Billy found so strange, so foreign. Alphas weren't sweet. They didn't scent their mates gently and sweetly. They were horrible, beastly. But Steve’s smile was gentle and soft as he rubbed his cheeks into Jonathan’s scent glands, before making a face and reaching into Jonathan's shirt, pulling out two hormone blocking patches before resuming his nuzzles.
Jonathan was an Omega. A free Omega. Billy was suddenly spurred forth, limping toward the plane. He whined in protest as he was picked up, held bridal style in Argyle’s arms. Billy could smell him so strongly here, he wanted to like it but it was still an Alpha’s scent. He was an Alpha, and those were not to be trusted.
“We need to get that leg looked at.” Argyle smiled down at him, carrying him carefully up the steps and onto the plane. He sat Billy down before rifling through the overhead for something. Billy was surprised to find that something was a set of pajamas. “There you go. Those should keep you nice and warm, they're flannel.”
And he was right. They were soft, and warm, and they smelled like Argyle. And they were immensely too big on him. But he didn't mind, he was warm, and Argyle had found him a pillow, and a blanket. He yelped, stirred from almost-sleep as he felt a hand on his leg and a shock of pain. He whimpered and bared his neck, trying to appease whoever was hurting him.
“Oh, geez-” Jonathan’s voice was soft. “Yeah, it's definitely broken.”
He could smell the other Omega near him. The plane cabin was dimmed, Argyle and Steve watching while Jonathan moved close to Billy. “Shh…” Billy closed his eyes tightly as Jonathan leaned in, only to practically melt when met with the smell of Jonathan trying to soothe him with scent. It was working. This other Omega meant him no harm. They scented each other, Billy starting to quietly purr, eyes filling with tears. He had no scent to offer, but he was being offered comfort anyway.
“Poor thing…” Steve murmured, sitting back, covering his mouth for a few moments before speaking. “I've seen some cases, met Omegas who were recovered from the industry, he doesn't have a scent because they’ve pumped him so full of fake scent.”
“For… mating, I assume.” Argyle was visibly upset, his scent bitter with contempt for any Alpha who could do this to an Omega. “We need to get him to a hospital once we land in California.”
“No.” Billy snapped his head toward him. “No hospital.” The last time Billy had gone to a hospital looking for help, they'd returned him to his current Alpha owner. Billy’s eyes were wide with tears and fear, body starting to practically convulse with anxiety.
“Okay. No hospital.” Argyle lifted his hands in a gesture of appeasement, shaking his head. “We’ll get a doctor who does house calls.”
“Who the hell does house calls?” Steve balked. “I don't think doctors do that anymore.”
“We could go to my neighbor, Doc Owens.” Argyle looked toward Steve, then back down again, nodding to himself. “He’s a Beta, and an Omegaist, totally hates Alpharchy.”
Billy held tight to Jonathan, quietly scenting him to calm down. Steve was looking at him, with contempt souring his own scent.
“Why the hell did you even buy an Omega from the slave market?” Steve muttered to Argyle, not bothering to whisper. “What were you thinking?”
“Look man, I didn't know that Carver was going to drag the party to hell and want to go look at Omegas. I wasn't emotionally prepared for that shit. I couldn't let him suffer anymore.” Argyle wrung his hands, looking up as one of Billy’s shaky hands landed tentatively on his knee.
“Thank you.” Billy murmured. He meant it. Misguided, yes, but Billy wasn't an owned Omega anymore. He pointed to himself, smiling tentatively. “Billy.”
“That's your name?” Argyle smiled, exhausted, but a certain satisfaction settled in his eyes. “I like that. I like that a lot, Billy.”
“Settle in and sleep, Billy.” Jonathan stood, grabbing another blanket, rubbing it on his scent glands before handing it over. “We have a few more hours until we reach Cali.”