Chapter Text
The first thing Way became aware of was the steady, rhythmic pings of sound. They were distant at first, like a faint echo in a vast cavern, but gradually grew clearer. As consciousness slowly seeped back into his mind, other sensations began to filter through the haze.
The antiseptic smell was unmistakable – sharp and clinical, it tickled his nostrils and made him want to sneeze. There was an underlying scent of something else too, something sterile and plastic that he couldn't quite place.
Way's eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as if they were weighed down by lead. He struggled to open them, managing only the tiniest sliver before the harsh fluorescent light assaulted his retinas, forcing them shut again.
His mouth was dry, tongue feeling like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He tried to swallow but found it painful, his throat raw and scratchy. A dull ache permeated his entire body, centered most intensely in his back.
Slowly, painstakingly, Way forced his eyes open once more. The world was a blur of white and beige, punctuated by the green glow of what he assumed were monitors. As his vision gradually focused, he began to make out shapes – a curtain, a chair, medical equipment he couldn't name.
A movement to his right caught his attention. A figure in pale blue scrubs was bent over a chart, scribbling something down. As if sensing his gaze, the nurse – for that's what Way now realized she was – looked up, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her pen. "You're awake!"
Before the Enigma could even attempt to form words, the nurse had rushed out of the room, calling for a doctor. He blinked slowly, trying to process what was happening.
Why was he in a hospital?
What had happened?
His musings were interrupted by a flurry of activity as several people in white coats and scrubs entered the room, surrounding his bed. Their voices overlapped, creating a cacophony of medical jargon that Way's foggy brain couldn't quite keep up with.
"Mr. Wachirabantoon?" A tall, silver-haired doctor leaned into his field of vision. "Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"
Way opened his mouth to respond, but only a dry croak emerged. A nurse quickly held a straw to his lips, and he gratefully sipped the cool water.
"Hospital," he managed to rasp out after a moment.
The doctor nodded, a relieved smile crossing his face. "That's right. I'm Dr. Amarin. You're at Mercy General. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?"
Way furrowed his brow, trying to piece together the fragments of memory floating in his mind. "I... I'm not sure," he admitted. "Everything's a bit fuzzy."
Dr. Amarin nodded understandingly. "That's to be expected. You've been unconscious for two weeks. You were brought in with two gunshot wounds to the back."
The words hit Way like a physical blow.
Gunshot wounds?
Two weeks?
His eyes widened in shock, and the monitors beside him began beeping more rapidly.
"It's alright," the Beta doctor said soothingly, placing a hand on Way's arm. "You're safe now. Can you take some deep breaths for me?"
Way nodded, forcing himself to inhale slowly and deeply. As he did so, flashes of memory began to surface – the showdown at the mansion, angry shouts, the glint of metal in the sunlight...
"Tony," he gasped, the name falling from his lips unbidden.
Dr. Amarin leaned in closer. "What was that?"
"Tony," the Enigma repeated, his voice stronger now as the memories came flooding back. "He... he tried to shoot Babe. I jumped in front of the gun."
The scene played out in his mind with startling clarity. They had been at the mansion, trying to stop the auction. The pack had been rounded up, led like lambs to a slaughter, when Tony had appeared.
His adoptive father, determined not to be outwitted by X-Hunter any longer, was ready to put an end to the game once and for all. He’d grown tired of trying to keep his children in line, and if they wouldn’t do as he wanted, then they were of no use to him.
Way remembered the look of shock on Babe's face as Tony had leveled the gun at him. Without thinking, the Enigma had leapt forward, using his body as a shield. He recalled the deafening bang of the gun, the searing pain that tore through his back, and then... nothing.
"My friends," Way said urgently, trying to sit up despite the pain that flared through his body. "Are they okay? Did anyone else get hurt?"
Dr. Amarin gently but firmly pushed him back against the pillows. "Your friends are all fine, Way. You were the only one injured in the incident. They've been here every day, waiting for you to wake up."
Relief washed over the Enigma, momentarily overshadowing the pain and confusion. His pack was safe. He had protected them.
"Can I see them?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
The doctor smiled kindly. "Soon. First, we need to run some tests now that you're awake. I'll have one of the nurses contact your friends to let them know you're conscious. I'm sure they'll be here as soon as possible."
Way nodded, settling back into the pillows as the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving him feeling drained. Dr. Amarin began a thorough examination, checking his pupil response, asking him to wiggle his toes, and testing his grip strength.
As the doctor worked, Way's mind raced. Two weeks. He had been unconscious for two weeks.
What had happened in that time?
How had the pack coped?
Had they moved on without him?
Way shook his head, trying to rid himself of that last thought and scolding himself for doubting his friends. The doctor's words echoed in his mind – they had been visiting him, not abandoning him as he had feared.
A sense of relief washed over him, calming the anxious thoughts that had been plaguing him.
"Your recovery has been remarkable," Dr. Amarin said as he finished his examination. "The bullets missed your spine by millimeters. You're very lucky."
Way nodded absently, still lost in thought. As an Enigma, his physiology was different from standard alphas, betas, or omegas. He wondered if that had played a role in his survival and recovery.
"Doctor," Way said, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "My ability... did you notice anything unusual while I was unconscious?"
The doctor looked at him quizzically. "Unusual in what way?"
Way hesitated. His hypnotic abilities were not widely known outside his pack, and he was always cautious about revealing them. But if he had been using them subconsciously while injured...
"I have a unique ability," he said carefully. "I can sometimes influence people's thoughts. I was wondering if anything strange had happened while I was out."
Dr. Amarin's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Influence thoughts? That's quite a claim, Way. I can't say I noticed anything out of the ordinary, but I'll check with the staff who've been caring for you."
The Enigma nodded, relieved. It seemed his abilities had remained dormant during his unconscious state.
As the doctor made some final notes on Way's chart, a nurse entered the room. "Doctor, I've contacted the patient's emergency contacts. They're on their way."
A warm feeling spread through Way's chest at the news. His pack was coming. Soon, he would be surrounded by their comforting scents and reassuring presence.
"Thank you," Dr. Amarin said to the nurse before turning back to Way. "Your friends will be here soon. In the meantime, try to rest. Your body has been through a significant trauma, and you'll need all your strength for the recovery process ahead."
Way nodded, suddenly aware of how exhausted he felt despite having just woken up from a two-week "sleep". As the medical staff filed out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor became a soothing rhythm, grounding him in the present moment. Way focused on it, using it as an anchor as he sorted through the tumultuous emotions swirling within him.
Relief was foremost – relief that he had survived, that his friends were safe, that he would see them soon. But there was fear too, lurking beneath the surface. Fear of the long recovery ahead, fear of how this incident might have affected his relationship with Babe, and of the vulnerabilities it had exposed within him.
For years, The Enigma had been complicit to Tony's schemes, silently following his orders and never questioning his motives or methods. The fear of the man who held so much power over him, over all of them, kept Way obedient. He played the role of a loyal spy, pretending to befriend Babe and the others while feeding Tony useless pieces of information.
Yet, despite his efforts to deceive them, Way's facade couldn't last forever. Eventually, the pack discovered his true allegiance.
He was terrified when backed into a corner, forced to reveal that he was just another one of Tony's adopted sons. But with this confession came the opportunity to expose all of the man's horrific misdeeds.
The pack, especially Babe, were outraged and betrayed by the Enigma's lies and by what Tony had wanted him to do. Yet, after hearing his story and realizing that he never acted on Tony's monstrous orders, they’d forgiven him for the most part.
He just needed to keep reminding himself of that.
Way took another deep breath, consciously relaxing the tension that had built up in his muscles. Now was not the time for his anxiety. He needed to focus on healing, on reuniting with his pack, on moving forward.
As he lay there, waiting for his friends to arrive, Way's thoughts drifted to each member of the X-Hunter team, including Pete, the other Enigma who had become such an important part of his life in a short time.
Way's heart quickened slightly as he thought of Pete. Their connection was different from what he shared with the rest of the pack – deeper in some ways, more complicated in others. He recalled the warmth of Pete's dark eyes, the gentle strength in his hands, and that unique scent of sandalwood and mandarin that never failed to make Way feel safe and at home.
The older Enigma had stood by him, fierce and unwavering in his support. When the others doubted, Pete defended. When Way felt lost and alone, Pete was there, a steady presence that anchored him through the storm.
Way wasn't sure exactly what his feelings for Pete were. The gratitude and affection were undeniable, but there was something else too – a spark of possibility that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew Pete had feelings for him; it was evident in every look, every touch, every word. But Way's own heart was a jumble of conflicting emotions, made even more chaotic by his current situation.
As the Enigma pondered these thoughts, he became aware of a commotion in the hallway outside his room. Excited voices, hurried footsteps, and then – like a burst of sunshine through storm clouds – the mingled scents of his pack washed over him.
Way's eyes flew open, a smile spreading across his face as the door to his room burst open. For a moment, there was stunned silence as nine pairs of eyes locked onto him, wide with disbelief and joy. Then, as if a dam had broken, they surged forward, surrounding his bed in a whirlwind of touch and scent and sound.
"Way!" The voices overlapped, hands reaching out to touch him gently, as if afraid he might disappear if they pressed too hard.
Alan was at the head of the bed, one hand on the Enigma's shoulder, his eyes suspiciously bright. Jeff was right beside him, offering his mate a comforting proximity as he smiled at Way.
North and Sonic were at the foot of the bed, both grinning widely despite the tears in their eyes.
"You gave us one hell of a scare, man," North said, his usual jovial tone undercut with emotion.
Babe hung back slightly, his face a mask of guilt and relief, until Way caught his eye and beckoned him closer.
"Not your fault," Way said firmly, his voice still rough but gaining strength. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The Alpha's face crumpled, and he surged forward, burying his face in Way's shoulder as he sobbed quietly. Charlie was right behind him, one of his hands on his mate's back.
Kim and Kenta stood slightly apart, their relief evident but tempered with a hint of uncertainty, as if they weren't sure of their place in this emotional reunion.
Way made a point of meeting their eyes, smiling warmly at them. "I'm glad you're here," he said sincerely, and watched as they relaxed, moving closer to join the group.
And then there was Pete, standing just behind the others, his dark eyes locked on Way's face with an intensity that made the young Enigma's breath catch. As their gazes met, the rest of the room seemed to fade away for a moment. Pete's usually composed face was a storm of emotions – relief, joy, lingering fear, and something deeper that made Way's heart race.
"Pete," Way breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
At the sound of his name, Pete moved forward, gently making his way through the others until he was right beside Way. Without a word, he reached out and took the Enigma's hand, entwining their fingers. The contact sent a jolt through Way's body, and he found himself tightening his grip, anchoring himself to Pete.
"I'm here," Pete said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of Way's hand. "We're all here."
The simple words carried the weight of everything they'd been through – the secrets, the doubts, the unwavering support when it mattered most. Way felt tears pricking at his eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions.
As the initial wave of emotion settled, the pack arranged themselves around his bed, pulling up chairs or perching on the edges of the mattress. Pete didn't let go of Way's hand, settling into a chair right beside the bed, his free hand coming to rest lightly on the Enigma's arm in a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the others.
There were so many questions to ask, so much to catch up on, but for now, they were content to simply be together, reveling in the miracle of Way's awakening. The conversation began to flow, filling him in on the events of the past two weeks.
"We've been taking turns staying here," Jeff explained, his gentle Omega nature shining through in his care for the pack. "Making sure you were never alone."
"The doctors said talking to you might help," Sonic added, his sweet smile tinged with sadness. "So we've been catching you up on everything. The races, the team drama, all of it."
“Even read you the sports pages," North chimed in with a grin. "Figured you'd want to know how badly we've been smoking the competition without you."
Way raised an eyebrow at that, a spark of his old competitiveness flaring up. "Without me? Please tell me you haven't been letting these amateurs show you up on the track," he teased, his voice still raspy but gaining strength.
The pack laughed, the sound a balm to Way's soul. But he couldn't help noticing the way Babe's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, the lingering guilt evident in the set of his shoulders.
"Babe," he said firmly, waiting until his friend met his gaze. "I meant what I said. It wasn't your fault. Tony's actions are on him, not you. And I'd make the same choice again, every time."
The Alpha nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. I just... God, Way, seeing you go down like that... I thought we'd lost you."
"Takes more than a couple of bullets to keep me down," Way said with a wry smile. "You should know that by now."
The jest had its intended effect, lightening the mood slightly. But Way could still feel the undercurrent of tension, the unspoken questions about Tony, about what had led to that moment in the mansion.
As if reading his mind, Alan leaned forward, his Alpha presence filling the room. "Way, I know you've just woken up, and we don't want to overwhelm you. But there are some things we need to discuss. About Tony, about... everything."
Way tensed, his grip on Pete's hand tightening involuntarily. He felt Pete squeeze back reassuringly, a silent promise of support.
“Tony’s dead,” Babe stated bluntly.
The Enigma's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He had always known that Tony would not go down without a fight, but hearing the words confirmed still sent a chill down his spine.
His adoptive father, the one who had raised him and guided him through life, was now gone. No longer would they have to constantly look over their shoulders or fear for their safety.
Way nodded, processing this information. He felt Pete shift beside him, and looked over to see a fierce protectiveness in the other Enigma's eyes.
"He won't hurt you again," Pete said, his voice low and intense. "Any of you. I promise."
The conviction in Pete's voice sent a shiver down Way's spine. He found himself leaning slightly towards Pete, drawn to the strength and safety he represented.
As the conversation continued, Way felt his eyelids growing heavy. The emotional toll of the reunion, combined with his still-healing body, was catching up to him.
Jeff, ever observant, noticed the Enigma's fatigue first. "I think we should let Way rest," he said gently. "We can continue this later."
There were murmurs of agreement, and the pack began to rise, each taking a moment to touch Way, to reassure themselves that he was really there, really awake.
As they filed out, promising to return soon, Pete remained seated, his hand still entwined with Way's. "Do you want me to go?" he asked softly.
Way tightened his grip on Pete's hand. "Stay," he whispered, suddenly unwilling to let go of the comfort Pete's presence provided. "Please."
Pete nodded, settling back into his chair. As Way's eyes drifted closed, he felt the older Enigma's free hand come up to gently stroke his hair. The soothing motion, combined with that comforting scent of sandalwood and mandarin, lulled Way towards sleep.
Just before he drifted off, he heard Pete's voice, soft and filled with emotion. "I'm here, Way. I'm not going anywhere. Rest now, and heal. I'll be here when you wake up."
With those words echoing in his mind, Way slipped into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the love of his pack and the unwavering support of the Enigma who had become so important to him.