Rated T. A/B/O Dynamics. Drama/Humor.

Omega Shifts and Pro/Con Lists

Augmented senses.

- Can totally smell people from blocks away. No one can sneak up on him - Pro

…

- He could not turn said smelling off. And loud noises were pretty common in the city. - Con

...

Okay, did those cancel out?

There was also his increased athleticism. Definitely a Pro. Though it was mostly an adrenal response, so…if he couldn't do it all the time should he count it?

Alpha commands were adrenaline based too. Which was a total bummer - what was the fun of being able to order his family around if he could only do it when he thought there was danger.

Jackson decided those all cancelled out. The whole Pack thing his mother had mentioned was confusing. He'd made the mistake of mentioning it to Popko.

His phone dinged again.

Apparently pack members can develop extra-sensory instincts for one another.

What the hell did that even mean?! Jackson texted that too, because honestly, even if it was annoying…Popko was pretty helpful.

Well, betas don't develop it very often… So, for you, probably nothing?
Except for Ramona? Idk. Does the scent marker make her a pack member?

Jackson rolled his eyes.

You know just as much as me, Popko.

That was a lie. He hadn't told Popko about the knotting - cause just no - and he certainly hadn't told him about the arrangement he had with Ramona.

Dudes did not discuss their dicks or chicks unless the two overlapped. Or so Jackson had been told. And technically, the two were not overlapping in the manner insinuated.

I'd guess, yes. So does that make it a pro or a con?

Neither.

They're theoretical at this point, why would I put them on the list?

Not that it was an actual list. Probably? Popko hadn't said if he was writing all this down. Evaluating all the alpha stuff was helpful though.

The fevers are a con though, obviously.

?Thought you just had the one?

Jackson glared at his ceiling.

One time too many. It was horrible.

Popko didn't comment. He did manage to find six other supposed alpha characteristics that made Jackson cringe. He was getting off lucky apparently…

-.-.-

Jackson startled awake. He blinked rapidly and was already in the hallway by the time his brain had caught up to the panic thrumming through his veins.

A tinkling of bells in the back of his head pushed him towards Ramona's door. He could hear her heart beat, now that he was paying attention. It was fast.

"Ramona?" He pitched his voice low as he knocked. No response came. Jackson closed his eyes to focus his hearing on Ramona's room. Max's murmurs and Tommy's light snores fell to the background.

A simpering whine echoed through his head and the door was closed behind him before he'd made the decision to open it. He really needed to pay more attention. Later.

Curled up on her bed Ramona had her eyes pinched close and her jaw clenched. Jackson sniffed the air. No sweet scent, no heat. Probably should've checked that before he entered, but whatever.

He knelt beside her, knee sinking into her mattress. There was a copper scent. Blood?

"Ramona? What's wrong?" Jackson palmed her forehead, but given his body temper ran hotter now he wasn't sure what to make of her warm skin. Another win for the con pile.

Her eyes fluttered, "Hurts." Her voice cracked as she spoke. The ringing in Jackson's head was going full on church bell again. He swallowed and sat down on the bed.

Ramona's hands were pressed against her stomach, so Jackson pushed his own. There was a stiffness to the muscles there. He pressed harder. Ramona groaned. Suddenly he had Ramona herself curled into his chest.

Great. Cause this wasn't awkward enough.

Her hands were sweaty. One was pressing down on his own, focusing the pressure on a specific jumble of muscles that he'd failed to identify on his biology quiz last month. The other hand was tightly gripped in his pajama shirt, the spot now vaguely damp.

"Ramona?" Jackson cringed at the croak in his voice. Why couldn't it ever be steady in these situations?!

Why did these situations keep happening anyway?

Ramona looked up at him, her face was wet and her eyes bloodshot. "I don't know what's happening," she sobbed into his shoulder. Her eyes suddenly squeezed shut and her hand squeezed his even harder against her abdomen.

"I've got you," Jackson wrapped his free arm around Ramona. He had absolutely zero idea what to do, but his weird alpha instincts had got him this far so he wasn't about to ignore them now.

Pack instincts…pro. Damn it.

-.-.-

"What's going on?"

Jackson's eyes flew open to see Max standing beside Ramona's bed. Shit. So much for no one being able to sneak up on him.

"Uh…"Jackson attempted to sit up, but Ramona was still very much curled against him and she had a death grip on his shirt. He did manage to get his other hand free.

The backside of said hand was bright red and had lovely little crescents all over it covered in dried blood. Ramona had some seriously sharp nails.

"There was this…thing…" Jackson attempted to explain without talking loudly, or truthfully, or actually disentangling himself.

Max's arms remained crossed. He had a pinched expression and his foot started tapping.

"An…alpha thing." Or omega, technically, but he didn't actually know anything. And he certainly wasn't telling Max he was up half the night pressing a hand up against Ramona's uterus.

The information from biology class had filtered in sometime around 3am.

Max continued to stand there, foot tapping.

"How much to keep quiet?" Jackson sighed, skipped straight to the bribe.

"40$ and you do my chores for a month."

That was…surprisingly not bad. "Deal."

Max raised a brow, "Woah, this must be serious, you didn't even try to talk me down." Jackson looked down at Ramona. The sound of her whimpering was still fresh in his memory.

"Close the door on your way out, huh?" Jackson plopped his head, the only part he'd managed to move, back onto Ramona's pillow. She groaned in her sleep as Max was leaving. He paused in the doorway as Jackson slipped his hand back onto her abdomen to apply pressure.

Max paused, "Should I…get someone? Or something?"

"I have no idea."

-.-.-

As precedent dictated, they spoke of nothing once Ramona was awake. They quietly disentangled themselves. As precedent had been set by Jackson's knots and he usually fell asleep afterwards, that was the end of Jackson's plan.

So…he just sat at her desk while Ramona flitted around her room. She went from her closet to her desk to her dresser to her bookshelf back to her closet and then finally she stopped in the center of her room.

"Why did you come into my room last night?" Ramona's head tilted as she turned to look at him. All of her hair cascaded down one side of her face. Jackson swallowed.

He shrugged, "Instinct." Ramona raised a brow. Jackson looked at her feet. She had purple nail polish.

"Jackson…" She took a step closer and Jackson stood up. Suddenly he was looking into her eyes again. They weren't bloodshot, there was no tears.

Just big, and brown, and looking at him with a glint of suspicion. His stomach flipped. Or it felt like it did. Jackson was fairly positive that it couldn't actually do that.

Though, obviously, his understanding of biology was flawed.

"Do you know what happened last night?" Jackson looked at a spot over her shoulder to avoid her eyes. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Twice.

At least he wasn't the only one awkward.

"I, uh, I have a theory," Ramona balanced back on her heels before rocking forward. His eyes flickered to her face. Hers was focused on her hands.

Currently wringing in front of her stomach. Jackson looked at them too. Her fingers kept twisting against each other, bending back at joints in what he was certain had to be painful.

"You ever heard of an omega shift?" Ramona cleared her throat, rocked back on her heels again.

"No." Forward. "What is it?" Back.

Ramona tucked her hair back again, though none of it had escaped yet. "Sort of like a regular menstrual cycle, but uh…different."

"Worse?" Jackson guessed. He looked away from her hands, back up to her face. Her eyes were still lowered. "Ramona?"

"They happen when an omega has a mate." Ramona looked up at him then, throug her lashes. Hia stomach flipped again.

Ramona's face was red, so were her toes, which Jackson was now looked at instead of her face. She'd dug her crooked dance toes into the carpet, gripping it just as well as if they were her fingers.

The look of her eyes - a tarnish copper color with the overhead light shining on her face, wide and trembling, as if she were afraid.

Maybe she was.

If alphas triggered the shift, he was the alpha. She had his scent mixed with her own. He could probably order her around if the situation were right.

Ramona was afraid of him... his stomach lurched and bike rose in his throat.

"I'm gonna go." Jackson fled. Legit, fled. Right out of the room. He hid in the bathroom rather than his bedroom.

It had a lock.

He turned the water on and sat on the lip of the tub. His fingers drummed against the porcelain.

This was not good. He did not like this.

Ramona couldn't be afraid him. That was just… no.

This didn't feel like an alpha thing. This was a we-live-in-the-same-house thing. This was a she's-his-friend thing. This was a her-eyes-are-really-pretty thing.

Wait. What? Oh no. No no no. No. Just no.

Jackson swore as he slide back into the shower's spray, clothes still on. The water was cold and he closed his eyes.

Why was this his life? Why couldn't he be beta? Why couldn't Ramona be one?! Yup! That was it.

This was entirely Ramona's fault, her and her…omega scent or … shift or the pack whatever. Yeah. Jackson swallowed, hard, and banged his head against the tile.

Jackson could not be expected to handle two adolescent crisis at the same time. It had to be an alpha thing. Had to be. Cause otherwise, he was totally fucked.

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