Warnings: psychical abuse (mostly semi-graphic descriptions of aftermath) and somewhat casual intentions to murder the abuser, which I admit could be a bit disturbing (in universe, it's not even considered illegal for an alpha to go after someone who hurt an omega under their care, even with deadly results, though the alpha would have to sit through a hearing afterwards to prove their attack justified; it's not the middle ages, after all. If it helps, I don't actually intend for Jane to kill anyone in this fic...but she certainly would if she had the chance.)
Story
Jack was not a poor little omega. He refused that role with every fiber of his being. Just because his every instinct was to lie back and let his alpha take care of him didn't mean he had to lie back and let it happen. No, not his alpha, an alpha, (but still his pack), and he didn't need to be taken care of. Except for the part where he hurt, and Michael smelt of comfort, and Jane smelt of that too and…and safety and everything warm and good. So when Jane set him down on the bed he didn't jump up and try to run away (and not just because he didn't think his legs would carry him), but he didn't cling to her either, never mind how hard it was to make his arms let go, never mind that he felt colder when she drew away, never mind that he needed closeness, because he wasn't a needy, poor little omega pup.
He knew they wanted to see what his clothes still hid, to see how he was hurt. He didn't want them to. He was upsetting them already, and he didn't like that either. And he knew if he did what they wanted, and bared himself, bared his every hurt, his every weakness, then he'd hurt them even worse.
He knew this because he knew how he'd certainly hurt if he saw one of them covered from head to toe in bruises. It would flay him to the heart to see anyone he loved so injured, and he didn't want to be the one to bring that pain to them. He didn't want to be injured in the first place. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be unblemished.
He wanted a lot of things.
Michael helped him to take off his jacket, and that was fine because he had long sleeves on underneath. Michael hesitated to actually start working on buttons. Jane didn't touch him either. They waited for Jack's permission. That is not to say they waited patiently.
"Jack," Jane said, a hint of Command in her voice, a hint of a growl. "Please remove your shirt."
He didn't have to do what she said. She wasn't his alpha…exactly. In the eyes of the law, sure, but they had no agreements between them. She was an alpha in his pack. If she had Commanded fully…maybe. It's hard enough for him to resist an unknown alpha's Command voice; he'd find it even harder with an alpha he respected. But there was only a hint of Command and he could resist.
He could resist, but there wasn't much point. They already knew he was hurt, and they weren't going to let it go. He wouldn't, if the situation were reversed.
His fingers trembled when he reached for his buttons.
"Let me," Michael said. And then, "Please." He sounded so…in earnest. Every move Jack could make in this moment would hurt them. He chose the easiest path (the one he wanted the most himself, which was almost enough to make him resist, almost.)
Michael was unbearably gentle as he removed Jack's vest. And Jane…if Jane had been a stranger Jack had come upon in the street, he might well have been scared of her. She exuded danger and violence and fury as she hovered over him, using her great alpha strength to hold herself back from what she clearly wanted to do, which was to rip away his clothes herself and see how he was hurt.
But she wasn't a strange alpha, she was Jane. Jack felt perfectly safe in her presence. Even if she had given in and started grabbing at his clothes…he might have resisted and felt worse over it, but he wouldn't fear her. Because she might exude danger…but to him she exuded danger towards everyone else, towards anyone who might be a danger to him, or Michael or the children…towards anyone who was Not Pack.
Jack didn't know the exact moment he'd joined the Banks family pack. Even science couldn't explain how packs formed, just that everyone knew they did, and everyone knew who was pack and who wasn't, and to Jack, the entire Banks family was Pack. It used to be, Jack would identify the leeries as his Pack. Now, he'd still identify them as a pack he was party to, in the same way Jane might identify her SPRUCE friends as a sort of pack, or Michael might see his bank coworkers as a sort of pack, but these are not their Pack. Most people were part of at least three packs, if not more, but only ever one Pack.
Jane was Pack, and she was an alpha. Technically, in the eyes of the law, she could be accepted as his alpha, even if they never made it official. And he wanted to be hers in every sense of the word, in every possible way, but he'd be happy to simply be part of her Pack, happy with whatever she could give. Which was why he'd never asked, never suggested.
Which was why he still had someone who tried to call himself Jack's Alpha. Jack didn't call him his Alpha. Not anymore.
The law was on Jack's side. Omegas had the right to choose. Brute violence was on the alpha's side.
Michael undid Jack's buttons, both layers, before he began to ease his shirt open. And Jack knew the exact moment Michael saw. There was a sort of noise, not soft enough to be a gasp, not loud enough to be a cry, just a sort of noise. And Michael's hands froze, for just a moment.
Jack tried not to make any noise at all while Michael got his upper garments. That was hard, because his body was rather sore, and the movements necessary were far from comfortable. But he couldn't give in and whimper or groan (and he definitely, absolutely was not going to break down and cry). He wasn't going to make everything worse for everyone by voicing his discomfort.
Jane, for her part, was both surprised (horrified) and not surprised (still horrified) by what the removal of Jack's upper garments uncovered. She didn't know what would soon be shown, of course, she couldn't know, but at the same time she had suspected. All this time, the absolute worst case scenarios for what Jack's clothing might be hiding had filled her head.
The worst case scenario was far too similar to what was uncovered. She knew there was bruising around his collarbone because she'd seen it. There was also deep bruising at his wrist, swelling even. That wasn't from being struck. Someone had held onto him, held onto him tightly enough, viciously enough, to do that. The splotches of color across his chest, on the other hand…those were from being struck. From the look on Michael's face, his back was just as bad…if not worse.
Someone had beaten Jack. And even worse than that, worse than knowing her omega (not hers, not hers, not hers) was hurt, hurting and in pain, was seeing that the bruising was in various stages of healing. This was not all from a single incident.
She was an alpha. To society, that meant she had responsibilities towards those in her care. To biology, it meant she was going to rend whoever touched her family limb from limb.
Michael was not an alpha. Society had a rather confused view when it came to omegas. On the one hand, they are supposed to be delicate, gentle creatures, lacking in self-preservation and common sense, whose role is to be protected and provided for while they, in turn, protect and provide for the family. On the other hand, they are also child bearers, and in this role they are fierce protectors. Medical science has a very specific term for a person who deliberately attempts harm against a child in the presence of an omega, and that term is suicidal. Not only will the omega respond with deadly force to the threat; they will call on any within hearing range to help. And the child doesn't even have to be their own.
Jack wasn't a child, but he was an omega in Michael's pack, and he was hurt. Hurt deliberately. Michael didn't know himself what he felt in that moment, except that it was a hot jumble of something unpleasant and strong, so his hands clinched into fists and his eyes teared up and he at once wanted to wrap himself around the injured omega and he wanted to go out and find the one who did this and he wanted to remove that person from ever being a threat to any of his family again.
He'd be satisfied allowing his sister the privilege however, while he held his family close until the threat was eliminated.
There was no way to remove the threat in that moment, however, so he fell onto his other instincts, that screamed at him to do everything in his power to make things better for Jack. He couldn't take away the pain, so he wanted to do the next best thing, to hold him close and let him feel his warmth and love and care until Jack stopped trembling and stopped hiding and allowed them in.
Only, Jack looked horrible, and Michael was terrified to touch him anywhere. He had purple and blue and red and black blotches across his chest, which were bad enough, but there were welts across his back and he hurt to look at.
"Jack," he whispered in the end. "Can I hold you? Can I hold you without hurting you more?"
Jack, for his part, was still trying to hold himself rigid, to make no pained noise, to do nothing that might suggest the horrible marks across his torso (across his face, around his wrist) actually hurt.
They did, of course. Hurt. They'd ached all evening, making it hard to move as he turned up the lamps, making it hard to breathe, making him feel hot and cold and pulling the strength from his limbs, but he'd been so determined to work through it that, with his job to concentrate on, he could ignore the hurt. Barely.
He didn't have his job to concentrate on now, and he could see he'd upset Jane and Michael, and that upset him in turn, and he knew they'd have questions and he didn't want to answer because it was humiliating, and horrible, and painful.
But he'd hurt Michael if he pulled away.
And he hurt.
And this was his pack.
Michael smelled of home and safety and light when Jack fell into him, burying his face into Michael's shoulder, or at least the half of his face that wasn't sore (as if that might hide when he lost the battle against his own tears), and Michael felt warm and solid as they fell back together on the bed. Michael guided them now, pulling them properly up onto the bed and rolling slightly so Jack was half on top of him, Jack's back carefully held away from anything that might hurt it further.
Jane made a distressed noise, seeing his back for the first time. Then she crawled onto the bed too, not to hold them (she didn't dare touch Jack, terrified she'd make things worse (that she'd already made things worse when she carried him)) but to be close to them. Jack was glad, though he didn't say anything, still made no noise at all, though Michael's shirt was beginning to grow damp. Jack could sense her there, and it felt safe.
Michael's hand ran gently through Jack's hair and he whispered gentle words in Jack's ear, the sort of words he'd whisper to his children if they were distressed, and Jack listened to the tone more than anything, to the deep and familiar voice and tried to hold himself together while at the same time to sink into the warmth and comfort.
"Jack," Jane whispered after a bit. "Who hurt you?"
Jack answered with a distressed whine that had Michael instinctively clutching him tighter.
"Jack," Jane repeated, her tone firmer this time, a definite edge of Command in her tone. "Who. Hurt. You."
"I don't want to," Jack answered into Michael's shoulder.
"Jack," Jane growled, going into full on Command in her distress and aggravation because she needed to know. Michael reached out and grasped her by the shoulder, subtly shaking his head at her, voicelessly begging to allow him to try, and with a snarl she nonetheless gave the barest sign of submission.
"Jack," said Michael, his voice gentler than his sister's. "Imagine someone hurt me. Someone beat me. And I refuse to say who did it." He felt Jack go tense in his arms, and Jack actually pulled himself up slightly so he could look Michael in the eye. The look made Michael wince as he saw the bruising on Jack's face anew, but he didn't look away, just let the other omega study him in an almost frantic manner, checking for any sign that Michael's suggested scenario wasn't imaginary. After a moment, Michael said, "No one hurt me, Jack; I promise. And if someone did, I would tell you. And I would tell you who did it. Pack takes care of each other."
Jack stared at him a moment longer, then seemed to accept Michael's words, or perhaps his strength simply gave out. Either way, he dropped back again, allowing the good half of his face to lay against Michael's shoulder. His whole body trembled against him. Jane frowned at both of them, not liking Michael's suggestion any more than Jack had, but still hoping that he had gotten through to Jack. She held back a growl, held back from demanding answers, and gave Jack a moment to find his voice. But if he took another minute, she would start Commanding, and she would know.
"'s name's Bill," Jack said into Michael's shoulder. "An alpha. Not mine. Court appointed him after…after me and some of the boys had a bit of fun and…a policeman picked us up. And I didn't…Mary was gone and…I didn't know you and…they said I had to have an alpha take me home and…they appointed Bill. And he… he keeps coming around, and I can usually keep away but…told him he wasn't my alpha…I have an alpha…and he got angry and…don't really remember properly. 'cept it hurt."
Jane and Michael let Jack talk, Michael still stroking his hair, Jane lying as close to them as she could without inadvertently hurting Jack. Jack could feel the heat of her body, could smell her, and he rather wished she would hold him, never mind if it would hurt. He'd rather feel her, even if that feeling was pain.
Jane and Michael didn't ask questions either…not yet. Later. They'd get Bill's surname, or failing that, which court, what dates. Bill would be found. And eliminated. Later.
Right then, they had an omega to take care of. This Bill was a threat, but not an emanate threat, and there was no chance either Jane or Michael were going to let Jack out of their sight in the near future. Nor was there any chance that Jane would allow Jack along when she went for Bill. Jack was never going to see Bill again. But that meant Bill would have to wait, because she couldn't leave Jack.
With remarkable timing, it was shortly after they finally got Jack to speak to them that the knock came at the door. Jane growled in response, not appreciating the intrusion into her pack's space, guessing (rightly) that it wasn't Ellen or the children on the other side of the door.
"That will be the doctor," Michael reminded her. To that, Jane leapt from the bed and ran for the door, because she couldn't make Jack better, and the doctor could. Jack, in contrast, made a noise like a whine, trying to burrow himself deeper into Michael, as though that might spare him from the examination that was to come.
"He'll take away the pain," Michael whispered, still running his fingers soothingly through Jack's hair. Jack responded with a second whine. Apparently he was done with words for the moment, and had devolved into a sulking, cross child. If it weren't for Jack's very real injuries, Michael might have been amused. As it was, Michael rather felt that if acting like a child helped Jack in any way, then he could behave as juvenilely as he liked.
The doctor, thankfully, was one they knew. Dr. Jenkins was an older man and, like the majority in his profession, was a beta. He generally brought with him a young omega, trained as a nurse but, more importantly, in calming tense situations, as generally arose when a member of a pack took ill or was injured. There was a reason alphas didn't become doctors, and it wasn't because they weren't considered intelligent enough to do it; bring an alpha onto a scene containing a hurt omega, and that omega's alpha was likely to attack the intruder as a threat. Bring in a beta, and the alpha might be tense, but they'd allow aid to be rendered. Add in an omega, an omega who implicitly trusted the beta doctor, and the situation at hand would become much less tense.
Jane knew Dr. Jenkins, something already in his favor for being allowed to help Jack. She didn't know the omega, but she appreciated the calming influence.
She also rather appreciated seeing the children, who'd not quite dared to follow the doctor into the room but did come to the doorway. She didn't want them to see Jack, not as he was, wasn't ready for the conversation that would be necessary to explain that 'Not all alphas are Good', but it soothed something inside her to see all her pack present at once (Ellen was in the doorway too, of course, showing the doctor in while holding the children back). If there had been a way to allow all her pack in the room and keep the children from the distressing sight of Uncle Jack's injuries, she would have done it at once. As it was, she took in the sight of the children's worried faces as they tried to see in, and was glad for the chance, but equally glad when Ellen firmly shut the door.
"What seems to be the…oh," said Dr. Jenkins, answering his own question when he caught sight of his patient.
"Some foolish alpha thought it was okay to hurt my omega," Jane answered anyway. "Please do what you can to help him."
"Of course," the doctor answered.
What followed was not pleasant for anyone. Jack, whenever he could, seemed to be trying to pretend he wasn't there and that nothing was happening, mostly by hiding his face against Michael, but when that wasn't possible for the examination, he'd shut his eyes.
Jane didn't like people who weren't Pack, even someone who she knew and trusted, so near her injured omega. Every distressed noise Jack made had her clinching her fists, wanting to drag away the ones causing the noises (and Jack made several; it seemed that finally allowing his pack to help him meant he'd given up on not making any noise…that or the pain was just that bad. Either way, he spent the entire examination making small whimpers and occasional pained cries).
Michael wanted to hold Jack the whole time, but that was impractical for an examination. Instead, he had to help Jack sit up while the doctor checked his ribs, checked his vulnerable organs for signs of injury or internal bleeding, and then he had to help remove Jack's lower garments because they'd no other way of being sure he wasn't injured further down (Jack certainly wasn't about to tell them).
The end result was that Jack received medicine for the pain, more medicine to promote general healing and stave off infection or illness (he already proved to have a mild fever), a soothing balm over the bruises, bandages over much of his back, and wrapping for his wrist and ribs. Some ribs were cracked after all, and the doctor was a bit concerned the wrist might be broken or sprained, but wanted to wait on the swelling first and in the meantime had it immobilized. And there were bruises on his legs as it turned out, particularly his knees from falling on them but also on his right hip and upper thigh. Jack didn't answer when asked, gently, how it had happened but the doctor conjectured he might have been kicked, and Jack didn't disagree.
When all that could be done had been done, the doctor left Jack under the gentle care of the two omegas and drew Jane aside for a moment. By law, when it came to matters of health care, Jane, as Jack's legal alpha, was viewed as his guardian. More importantly, in such abuse cases, there were other legal concerns.
"I'll have to report this," the doctor explained in a low voice, a bit apologetically. "I'll include the name of the accused, of course, and my belief that you weren't the…er…abuser. I don't anticipate any complications there. Anyway, it will help your case if you do…er…take care of the errant party yourself rather than through the law. It's your right, but this isn't the dark ages and there will be a hearing afterwards. To make sure it's justice and not…murder. It will go better, too, if you do appeal to the police beforehand rather than after; less…messy."
"Will Jack have to make an appearance?" Jane asked, not refuting her intentions to 'take care of the errant party'.
"No, no, of course not," the doctor was quick to reassure her. "I'll bring my report and you'll speak for yourself. The court might demand you bring a character witness, so best to have one at ready; anyone respectable who isn't part of your family Pack will do. I can do it myself, but it will look better if you bring in an outside party."
"Of course," Jane answered, having, in fact, been such an outside party for other's cases in the past.
"Well, as for Jack," continued the doctor, "Keep him warm, keep him resting, make sure he takes his medicine, and if his fever rises or he experiences sharp pains…for the first, contact me. For the latter, take him directly to hospital."
"Are you sure he shouldn't be there now?" Jane asked.
"He'll heal better surrounded by Pack, in a place he knows," the doctor answered. "I'll come again tomorrow and see about his wrist, unless you call for me sooner. And we'll see how he's doing then, and decide where to go from there. I trust you won't leave his side in the interim? By the sound of it, the one who hurt him isn't currently a threat. It's important you stay with your omega while he heals. There's still a chance he could grow worse. I know it's not what you want to hear, but his body is severely weakened by the abuse, and there are dangers both of illness, and of some hidden injury within his body suddenly making itself known."
Jane paled at this. She was already in a heightened protective state, and at the doctor's warning she was half convinced at once that Jack was at death's doorstep. The doctor knew this too, and knew his warning wasn't going to be discarded, and that Jane wouldn't be leaving Jack alone anytime soon, no matter what murderous urges awakened within her against Jack's attacker. He gave her a somewhat apologetic look, but didn't take back his words.
"Is…is Jack likely to worsen?" Jane asked, not quite daring to ask what she feared most…that he'd been hurt to a deadly extent.
"I do not think he is fatally injured," the doctor answered, knowing what she was really asking. "Or that there is any permanent harm done. But I should be surprised if he wasn't in for a long and painful recovery. He should sleep quite a bit; the medicine and his need to heal will keep him tired. As I said, if his fever rises, that is not a good sign and you should contact me at once."
"And if he does have sudden sharp pains…?"
"There may be internal injuries that I missed; these can be very dangerous. Take him to hospital if he complains of pain, or falls suddenly unconscious, or begins to bleed freely."
The doctor and his omega left. Jack was dressed once more, though in loose garments suitable for sleeping rather than his original clothes (he wore Michael's clothes, not having his own handy; they were luckily the same size) and tucked into the bed, on his side, arranged as comfortably as he could be. The medicine had already taken affect, and between that, and the stress of the entire evening, and everything, Jack was asleep even before he was completely settled.
Jane, it must be confessed, panicked a bit at that point, trying to decide if that counted as 'suddenly falling unconscious', but Michael convinced her it was natural sleep, as the doctor had thought would soon happen, so the doctor wasn't called back.
They allowed the children in, now that Jack was mostly covered and not nearly so alarming a sight, though there was no hiding the bruising on his face.
"Did Uncle Jack get in a fight?" Georgie asked in a small voice.
"No," Michael answered, but hesitated to explain the truth of the matter.
"Was it a wicked alpha?" Anabel asked then.
"…Yes," Michael answered, a bit reluctantly, but there was no hiding that someone had injured their uncle, and as much as he wanted to protect his children, there were some realities they couldn't be protected from.
The children didn't have any further questions, not even John, who was usually full of questions. Perhaps they were afraid to know more. Michael knew they needed to have a proper conversation…but not just then.
They all slept that night in the guestroom. It was a tight fit, particularly as they had to be careful not to crowd Jack, but the children were small and the bed was large and they brought in cushions and turned the floor into an enlarged sort of pallet.
This was not a night for separate bedrooms and separate beds. Jane needed to know her Pack was safe, all of them. They needed each other. Michael held Jack, and Georgie curled up against his father while John, Annabel, and Ellen all found comfortable spots on the floor, the children holding each other. Jane sat at Jack's other side, too alert to sleep, and she guarded her family all the long night.