Alright people, here is the promised Alpha/Omega Coco AU ?
Warning! This will have graphic violence, attempted rape, and major character deaths. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, then please don't read it.
For those who have decided to continue on, please read, review and enjoy ?
…..
"A party…" Chicharrón grumbled, "… this is absolutely ridiculous."
Miguel remained firm, he needed the blessing from his great, great grandfather so he needed to see Ernesto de la Cruz, wherever he was.
"Fine, fine, fine…" Chicharrón turned to the musicians and stormed over to them, "…Hey, Gustavo! What do you know about this Cruz party?"
One of the violinists smirked at the Alpha, "It's the hot ticket! But if you're not on the list, then you're never getting in…. bring Chorizo with you. Maybe you can use him to… persuade them to let you in."
The other musicians cackled, even as Chicharrón growled and Miguel tilted his head in confusion.
"What are they- "he suddenly stopped, remembering what he'd overheard in the Police Station.
/ "…. You know what the older men say?"
"I know… but I don't believe he was… I don't believe he was one of those omegas. He has a mating bite, someone must have loved him once upon a time." \\
One of those omegas.
"You could be famous with him Chicharrón!" the musician continued, "Everyone loves Chorizo!"
Miguel knew he was young…. But it was easy to guess what they were implying. Desperately trying to turn his thoughts away from the horrible thoughts, Miguel scanned the room for the omega, finding him near the window, staring out at the brightly lit buildings.
He was completely unaware of the conversation going on about him.
"Stop pissing about…" Chicharrón growled, pulling Miguel's attention away from the omega, "… This is why I hate musicians, heads up their asses with no thought for anyone else but themselves!"
"Hey, I'm not like that!" Miguel protested, frowning when Chicharrón didn't even look him in the eye and headed over to the omega, pulling him away from the window.
"Hey kid…"
Miguel turned to the musician, who smirked at him.
"… If you really want to get into that party, there's a music competition at the Plaza de la Cruz. The winner gets to play at his party."
Miguel beamed at this news…. That was it! That's how he was going to meet his great, great grandfather.
"Chicharrón! Chicharrón!" Miguel raced over to the other Alpha, excitement flooding through his veins already, "I need a guitar!"
"You cannot be serious!"
"If I can win that competition, then I can meet my great, great grandpa and get his blessing! I can actually be a musician!"
Before Chicharrón could protest again, the omega suddenly leaned forwards and tapped Miguel on the shoulder, moving away as though he expected Miguel to follow him.
"Ummm, what is he- "
"- he knows where you can get a guitar." Chicharrón grumbled, grabbing Miguel's sleeve and tugging him after the omega, "Damn brat."
….
Pepita sniffed at the disturbed dust in the tunnels, frowning in confusion.
Why could she smell omega?
Why could she smell her mistress's omega?
"Have you found him Pepita?!" she heard Imelda call out from behind her, "Have you found our boy?"
She had definitely found something.
Gently, she blew on the ground, illuminating bright blue footprints on the ground.
"A footprint!"
Julio leant in to examine it and beamed at what he saw. "It's definitely a Rivera boot!"
"Size seven!" exclaimed Oscar.
"Seven and a half, brother."
"Pronated."
Imelda nodded in agreement with all of the observations. "Miguel."
Another breath revealed a trail of footprints leading out of the tunnel.
…
"I don't understand why you even want to be a musician." Chicharrón grumbled as he stomped down the rickety wooden steps (how he didn't break them, Miguel would never know), "There's nothing in it kid."
"What do you mean there's nothing in it! People love music, it can make them feel sad, happy, scared, it can make them fall in love with someone else!"
"Pah! The only thing it does is make musicians act like well-trained monkeys in front of brainwashed fans!"
Scowling at the back of the Alpha's head, Miguel shoved his hands into his pockets, "Yeah well, what do you know… how far is it to this guitar anyway?!"
"Nearly the- KID NO!"
Chicharrón darted forwards as the omega suddenly dropped off the edge of the platform, landing with a crack as the other two peered over the edge.
"Damn brat! He never learns!" Chicharrón grumbled, watching as the omega swiftly put himself back together, before continuing on, "One day, he'll lose a hand and that'll be it!"
"Is that how he lost part of his skull?"
Chicharrón glanced at him, clearly confused as to how he knew that, but shook his head. "Nah…. One day he had it, cracked and all… and then he didn't and was like…. Well, he'd changed."
Quickly, they used the steps to follow the omega down, racing after him.
As they walked under a giant stone archway, covered in the art of skeletons with wings, Miguel focused on the run-down houses and the ill-constructed walkways.
In comparison to the rest of the Land of the Dead, this place was… hell.
"Marco! Marco!"
Turning his attention to a small group near a run-down house, Miguel watched as the omega scampered over to them eagerly, with Chicharrón following as quickly as he could.
"Walkway! Remember the walkway brat!"
Catching up, Miguel glanced around, listening as Chicharrón was referred to as Tio Chicharrón or Cousin Chicharrón. "These people are all your family?"
"No, we're just the sad souls who don't have any photos on the ofrendas… people who don't have a family to go home to. The nearly forgotten." Swiftly, Chicharrón dipped down and grabbed a bottle of alcohol before the omega could, as Miguel thought about what the Alpha could possibly mean by 'nearly forgotten'.
"Marco! Marco!"
Seated around a table, playing cards with shot glasses by their side, three women cooed at the omega, gently ruffling his hair as he took a seat next to them, with Chicharrón making his way over with the bottle.
"Ladies…" he greeted them politely, pouring them several glasses of the alcohol, "… and just how are you finding this glorious Día de Muertos?"
Miguel had never seen him be so charming… or smile at all really.
After a few more moments of chatting… and quite a bit of drinking, Chicharrón moved away, pulling the omega with him as they continued on down the path until they reached a run-down bungalow. Inside, boxes upon boxes were piled on top of one another, there was a small bed in the corner, and a hammock near it, full of cans and empty bottles.
The omega immediately migrated towards the bed on the floor, eyes turning to the back of the bungalow that was left open, staring out to the sights of the main city.
"Home sweet home…" Chicharrón grumbled, "… try not to knock anything over brat. I'm sure most of these boxes are keeping this dump up."
"Really?" Miguel glanced around in alarm, keeping his arms as close to his body as he possibly could, before turning his attention back to the omega… who looked like he was settling in to sleep, "So…. How long has he been leaving with you?"
Chicharrón was silent for a few moments, before sighing wearily, "Since he got like this… now, where did I put that guitar?"
Silently, the omega gestured at the hammock, where the neck of the guitar could be seen peeking out of the pile of cans and bottles.
"Ah!" Chicharrón went to grab the guitar, smirking at Miguel's low whistle of appreciation.
"That's a real nice guitar! Where did you get it?!"
"… I was on an ofrenda once you know… before everything. It was left as a tribute." Chicharrón sighed wearily, "Now I couldn't even play it if I wanted to…. I mostly listen to the kid."
Miguel glanced back over at the omega, who was staring at the guitar intently. "He… he plays music?"
"Hmmm… he's very good as well. Better than that De la Cruz kid."
"…. He can't be."
Chicharrón smirked at the disbelief in Miguel's voice, turning and handing the guitar to the omega, who practically snatched it away and started to strum the chords.
"C'mon kid, why don't you play my favourite."
Almost as soon as the request was complete, the omega changed the tune, fingers practically dancing over the strings.
Miguel found himself transfixed by the sight… and was even more stunned with what followed.
"Well, everyone knows Juanita…" the omega started to sing softly, his voice low and soothing, "… Her eyes each a different colour. Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in. And her… knuckles, they drag on the floor."
"Those aren't the words kid!" Chicharrón immediately protested, frowning when the omega whined and glanced at Miguel, before turning his attention back to the music, "…. Children present… right. Damn omega instincts."
It made Miguel curious as to what the original lyrics were meant to be.
"Her hair is like a briar… She stands in a bow-legged stance. And if I weren't so ugly, she'd possibly give me a chance."
The song was over, and the omega fell silent once again, slowly allowing Chicharrón to take the guitar from him.
"So… he doesn't talk, but he can sing?"
Chicharrón shrugged, "Yeah… don't ask me how kid. It's like he turns into a different person when he's playing the guitar. It sort of tells me how he must have been before any of this happened to him."
As a peaceful silence fell over them, Miguel nervously cleared his throat. "Ummm, what did you mean by the nearly forgotten?"
"… The Final Death." Chicharrón whispered, "When there's no one left in the living world who remembers you, then you disappear from this world… you're forgotten."
"So… w-where do you go?"
"No-one knows kid… but our stories have to be passed down from those who knew us when we were alive, they keep us here, they keep us healthy… Only with these stories, can we remain in the Land of the Dead."
"Healthy?"
"Bones can be broken here as well… if you're well-remembered, then you'll heal."
At this simple statement, Miguel found himself glancing at the bandages around Chicharrón's legs… and then at the ones on the omega.
They were both on the course to being forgotten.
"I've not got long left…" Chicharrón confirmed wearily, "… another couple of years maybe. I don't know who's remembering Marco, but when they go, he'll go to."
Did the omega know that?
"Anyway…" Chicharrón slapped Miguel on the back, "… we should get going. You've got that stupid contest to win."