The doctor's voice fades as the ringing in his ears grow to an immeasurably uncomfortable volume. The fluorescent lights grow to a blinding white as the room swims in his vision. He can feel his grip tightening on the exam table, but at the same time Delaney feels as if he's slipping under water. He can't breathe. He's willing his lungs to expand, to take in air, but each time he tries to inhale, his body does the opposite—short little pants of air coming out rapidly as he struggles to cling to some shred of dignity.

"Mr. Richards? Did—understand the—testing?" His voice fades in and out. He repeats himself again, moving in closer, his hand outstretched and poised to offer a comforting touch. However, before the doctor can, Delaney manages to get a grip, at least one tight enough to snap out,

"Don't touch me. I'm fine."

The doctor recoils a bit, but catches himself, straightening up to explain, yet again that Delaney is,

"Infertile. All of the tests came back conclusive. Given your late presentation and sporadic heat cycles, I would say that your hormone levels are more beta than omega."

"I go into heat," Delaney weakly states.

The doctor sighs heavily as he sits on the round stool at the foot of the exam table." You have a heat once a year. Omega's on the lower end, hormonally, have at least four heat cycles a year."

Delaney's heart clenches in his chest, the last little bit of hope he feels is being wrung out with each excuse he stammers out. "My sc-scent. Beta's do-don't—"

"Like I said, Delaney, you might have presented as an omega but hormonally you're more beta than anything else. Your scent isn't as strong as the typical omega's."

"So I can't—"

The doctor shakes his head slowly, his eyes growing glassy with the weight of his empathy. "No. I'm s—"

Delaney winces, turning his head slightly as he whispers, "Don't. Don't tell me you're sorry like you had some part in this and tried to fix it but failed."

"You can still live a productive life. Nothing has to change other than the fact that you can't have children."

"Oh!" Delaney exclaims loudly. "Oh! That's the only thing that has to change? The only thing? Well then, my life can continue on just as smoothly as it was before. Never mind that I'll have to tell every alpha I meet that I cannot bear them offspring! But nothing has to change." He glares at the doctor as he hops off the table, grabbing his bag. He takes one last look at the doctor and makes an exasperated sound in his throat as he wrenches the door open, stomping out of the hospital all together.

His feet carry him in the opposite direction of the parking structure as he walks around the building to the smoking section. His hand shakes as he pulls a silver cigarette case from his bag. He pulls one loose, fumbling with the thin stick of nicotine as he rushes to place it between his lips. After several frustrating seconds of patting down his pockets, he remembers that he left his lighter in the car and that is what makes him finally break.

He crumples down to the bench below, placing his head in his hands as he softly cries.

It's not fair. The one thing he's wanted most in life, he cannot ever have. What alpha is going to want a defective omega? Tears fall, overflowing in the palms of his hands as he struggles to accept this new truth. He's pretty much useless. No one would ever want him let alone claim him.

An entirely too jovial voice cuts through his moment of despair, turning his sorrow into extreme irritation as they joke, "It's not the end of the world. I have a lighter."

Delaney wipes his face quickly, pulling his dark sunglasses from his bag and shoving them onto his face before he looks up to see an unfamiliar alpha. "Did you stop to ask yourself if that would be an appropriate segue to a conversation? Because I can assure you it's definitely–,"

"Because a more appropriate transition to a conversation with a crying stranger is exchanging cliché platitudes and doing your best to not intrude on whatever is making them cry but asking 'are you okay?' despite knowing that it's not your place to ask to begin with?"

Delaney blinks over at the man and extends his hand. "Lighter," he mutters. He takes the offered lighter and balances the cigarette on his bottom lip as he lights it. He inhales deeply, feeling the smoke fill his lungs and begin to settle his nerves. He tosses the gas station lighter to the stranger and maintains his silence, only making noise when tiny, shuddering hiccups become too hard to control.

"It's not my place to ask—," the man starts, but Delaney cuts him off,

"Then don't."

"But you're clearly distraught."

He holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, moving the smoke away from them both as he turns to face the stranger. Delaney pushes up his glasses so he can get a good look at the man and instantly regrets his decision to reveal his red rimmed eyes and splotchy face. The man is absolutely gorgeous; tall, dimpled smile that lights up honey brown eyes, and inky black curls that he keeps faded all the way around but long on top. Delaney finally retorts in a monotone voice, "I'm at a hospital."

"And that's supposed to mean..." he trails off, raising an eyebrow.

"That it's none of your business why I'm distraught. Not like you genuinely care. Pretty sure your omega is waiting for you."

The man laughs, a loud melodious sound that reverberates in Delaney's chest. "I'll tell you my shitty news in exchange for yours."

He sighs before taking a drag on the cigarette, exhaling, "I'd rather not."

It's as if Delaney had not spoken at all. "Just found out I have to have surgery. On my hand. I've never had to have surgery before and—,"

"Oh no," Delaney deadpans, "You have to have surgery. What ever will you do when you can't use one of your hands?" He stubs out the cigarette, digging in his bag for hand sanitizer and scented lotion. The stranger holds his hand out and Delaney almost gives him a dollop of sanitizer before he remembers, "You didn't smoke."

"Nope, but that lotion matches your scent and honestly, even though I'm just having surgery on one hand" he mockingly stresses the words, "your scent calmed me enough to not go into a full blown panic attack. That's how I wound up back here."

The doctor's words echo loudly in Delaney's mind and he argues with the alpha, "You can't possibly have picked up my scent from the front of the hospital."

The alpha has a faint smile as he shakes his head. "See, that's where you're wrong. I can and I did. You smell like jasmine. It's a mild scent, very calming.

Delaney narrows his eyes as he stares over at the man. "Before I tell you that you're full of shit–,"

"Again."

"—I need to know how to properly address you."

He sits next to Delaney, a bright dimpled grin causing his eyes to crinkle in the corners. "That's a very wordy way of asking what my name is. But, my name is Eli."

"You're full of shit, Eli."

Eli turns his chin up to lightly sniff the air before he turns back to Delaney. "Underneath your staunch uncertainty is the overwhelming desire to believe me. And now," he sniffs again, "Oh... anger."

"Don't do that," Delaney snaps as he quickly stands to his feet. "You don't know me well enough to do that."

"I'd like to get to know you well enough. What's your name?"

Delaney's eyebrows pinch together, his eyes narrowing little by little. He's vacillating between being angry with how forward Eli is and feeling pleased that an alpha finds him attractive enough to hit on, especially after the appointment. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds before finally answering. "Delaney."

Eli leans forward, tilting his chin up slightly to look up at Delaney. "Since I've put my foot in my mouth multiple times, how about I treat you to dinner?"

Delaney quickly weighs the pro's and con's before deciding that there are none. A free meal is a free meal, plus it doesn't hurt that Eli is attractive. "I'm rather selective in my choices."

Eli's chuckle rumbles in his chest. "You don't say? Your Gucci crossbody bag and matching Gucci loafers were a dead giveaway."

Delaney can't help but smile, the corners of his mouth twitching as he adds, "And I just became extremely expensive."

"So a value meal is out of the question then?"

"I just met you but I feel it's an accurate assessment to call you an asshole."

"I'd say that there are at least three out of five people in my life who would exuberantly agree with you." Eli flashes another dazzling smile.

"Would I be in good company?"

"Fuck no," he laughs. "Although my mother and older brother might adore your preference for expensive labels."

"Oh," Delaney sucks in a breath through his teeth, "That would be tricky. On the one hand I would probably love their fashion sense but on the other hand I would absolutely, with all certainty, loathe the very fiber of their being."

"Can I take you out to dinner for the next week?" Eli looks up at him, eyes sparkling with a child-like sincerity that makes Delaney's cheeks warm.

Delaney holds out his hand, clearing his throat impatiently. "Give me your phone." Without question, Eli complies. Delaney dials his number from Eli's phone and when his rings, he saves the number as Hospital Alpha. He hands the phone back to Eli with a nonchalant, "Text me when you want to meet up."

Delaney doesn't give Eli a chance to answer before he heads in the direction of his vehicle. He's barely buckling his seatbelt when his phone vibrates.

[Hospital Alpha: Are you free right now?]

[Delaney: You're eager]

[Hospital Alpha: I prefer the term 'hungry']

[Delaney: I don't have the energy for dinner]

[Hospital Alpha: You were crying pretty hard back there.]

[Hospital Alpha: Take care of yourself, Delaney.]

[Hospital Alpha: I'll check on you tomorrow.]

Delaney tosses his phone in the passenger seat, scoffing loudly. Eli will forget about him. He'll find some attractive omega that's a whole omega and he'll be forgotten. It's been the story of his life and now he knows why. All of those alpha's knew there was something inherently wrong with him so they left. Eli would be no different.

So, Delaney decides, while under extreme emotional duress, that there's nothing wrong with him being in the position of taker. He'll take what he can get and leave before he can be hurt.

Besides, Eli wouldn't actually check on him tomorrow. He was just saying that to be polite.