Chapter Text
The voices were muffled, smothered through glass or trapped in some far away dream. John groaned and rolled to the side He was stuck on something hard, and every part of him ached, his head worst of all.
It was only when the name Dewitt made it through the buzzing in his head did his eyes fly open. Sitting up, he found himself lying on a chain supported slatted bench in what he immediately recognised as a jail cell. It had been a while since he had been in one of these. Ever since he took on the name "Jack Lawrence" he had endeavoured to stay out of the kind of trouble that would see him behind bars.
The name Dewitt was mentioned again, the voice akin to his own, though much more slurred. Wincing John heaved himself to his feet and trod to the viewing window and tried to capture a glimpse of his visitor.
His brother - still in the clothes he left for work in - was leaning casually against the wall. Arms cross and head tilted to the side he was engaged in what appeared to be a lighthearted conversation with one of his jailers.
Something was wrong with that picture. The manner in which he brother regarded the guard, his casual demeanour, hell the fact he'd not even made a move to approach him.
"Oh, dipshit, get me out!" John snapped after his brother continued his conversation with his jailer.
Timothy's eyes narrowed, and his face drew stiff as his gaze landed on him. He whispered something to the guard before chuckling and pulling himself off the wall to make his way towards him. John drew a sharp breath over his teeth. His brother's 'walk' was tilted, legs swaying to the side as he approached.
"Sup," Tim chimed and wore a bright lopsided smile.
"Sup!? Where the fuck is Angel?"
"Calm down, it's all handled."
"Handled?"
"Yeah, handled. I handled it."
"Lemme guess, you flashed those pretty pearls of yours, and they all lined up to suck you off?" John practically spat the words out.
It wasn't so much what his brother said next, it was more the manner in how he said it. Coated in disgusted, he spoke as if John were a slug barring the walkway, worth of nothing but a shoe in his face.
"Watch your tone, you're a branded Omega. Learn to know your place."
"So who is he to you?" The guard had crept up and looked as if a foul stench had filled the room.
John had a pretty good guess as to why.
"My body double," Timothy crossed his arms again and frowned, "Carried MY pup like a good boy and then decided to bolt. But we caught up to you, didn't we Johnny?" Timothy glared at him and with a crooked grin tapped at own face where the scar had mangled John’s eye.
"Ah, I see." The Alpha guard smirked, licked his lips and traced the burned mark on the air, composing a fake sizzling noise. “S’up, mamaboy. Haven’t seen your toasty kind in a while.”
"Well, most people are not stupid enough to go against nature, now are they?"
John said nothing as he kept throwing angry glares in Tim’s direction.
The guard took an unceremonious whiff and bared his teeth in a grin. "Bloody hell, he smells." The guard remarked and crossed his arms. "What the fuck are you shooting up, boy?"
“Piss off, asshole" John snarled, but his voice betrayed him by the slight tremble at the end.
If Timothy was playing a role, then he was fucking too good at it. He didn't even glance at him, save to sneer down through the bars. It stung, seeing his own brother degrade him like that, even if it was a performance.
"Thank you, officer, but I will take it from here."
"Of course, sir."
The guard gave John another fleeting stare before entering the key code and letting the barred door slide open. John did not waste his time and darted out, taking an unsteady swing at the guard. Before he managed to land the punch, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and yanked backwards, Timothy’s lips inches away from his ear, breath coated with a thick layer of cheap alcohol and cigarettes.
“John, NO.” The whisper was almost inaudible, but there was a clear threat in it. Underneath that, there was a desperate plea not to make it any worse for the both of them and their daughter.
“I remember faces, asshole,” John finally hissed. “Sleep with one eye open.”
Timothy’s hand snaked into his hair and yanked John’s head back, making him yelp in discomfort.
“John, don’t make daddy take you down..”
The sweet tone that Timothy slurred it with made John gag and close his mouth, the guard’s hooting thunderously loud in the silence that followed.
They were walking down the hallway with Timothy carrying Angel and John trailing behind them with a small booklet and gift bag for his daughter. His jaws were clenched so tightly he could feel his teeth hurt as his eyes kept darting between the sleeping toddler in Tim’s arms and front doors. As those slid aside, John was the first one to stop, his fight or flight reflex ablaze like a bonfire at night. There were very few positive things his endotype contained, but an immaculate sense of imminent danger was one of them. His nails dug into Timothy’s bicep, urging his brother to stop as his eyes scanned the entrance hub.
There, in the far corner stood two suited and very obviously armed men. He did not recognise them, but the manifestation of overwhelming anxiety was reason enough not to pass their way.
"Tim, this way."
"John, the hell are you up to now?" His brother stopped but did not follow.
"Move it."
He lept in front of Timothy, placed two hands onto his shoulders and started to drive him away from the exit. They closed in on a security locked door, and when a nurse paced on through it, he ushered Tim and Angel inside.
"This is ER, we're not supposed to be -,”
"Save it Timtams! We're going this way, NOW."
Moving the same way he had entered, he pushed past the array of hover beds, doctors and nurses. There was too much chaos for anyone to take any notice of them, the perfect place to lose a tail. They made it back into the emergency waiting area, and John all but sprinted for the doors, calling for his brother to bloody hurry.
Tim waved down a car, and John frowned, realizing it wasn't a taxi and it absolutely was not child safe. The rust bucket was covered in bumper stickers, spoiler slapped on the back and the suspension crudely lowered. As the death trap on wheels approached, the window slid down revealing a well-built woman. Tattoos covered her arm as she leaned out to call to them.
"Timmy, you better get inside, I had about a dozen guys all over me as I was waiting and you know how I feel about THAT."
"Who the fuck is this?" John barked eying the woman with overt hostility.
Timothy groaned, swaying lightly and Angel started whining in his arms: she was tired and sensitive.
"Janey, John, John Janey. Cool, now let's mosey."
Janey, whose accent indicated she was from Elpis, reached over and opened the passenger side. She even had to punch the handle a few times to get the door to open. Timothy slid inside with Angel on his lap, and John retreated to the back seat.
"You ever hear of a car wash, honey?"
"John, please," His brother growled from the front. “Not now.”
John opened his mouth to rip at the dumpster on wheels once again when the reason for his display of fear from before became evident.
HE was here. The man who had acted as the middleman for his surrogacy was pacing across the carpark, one hand on his holstered weapon and another pressing his echo-comm to his ear.
"Get the FUCK down!"
John grabbed his brothers shoulders and tried to get him to bend in half, forgetting Angel was on his lap. The kid started crying and desperately kicking into the dashboard.
“John!” Tim cried out over the tantrum, “What the fuck has gotten into you!?"
"Lance. They're here."
That shut him up good. In fact, the whole interior fell still, and even Angel’s sobs became muffled as she hid her face in Tim’s chest.
“Lance?” His brother repeated slowly and peeked at the parking space, searching for the person John saw.
“What did you do to aggro those guys?” Janey asked confused as she started the engine. Their car was blocking the road, and the longer they stood, the more attention it attracted.
John was chewing on his lip: seeing that asshole close up made pins and needles swim in his brain and it took him a moment to realize he was sitting all curled up, hands protectively on his stomach.
“They pinged my name,” he muttered and then cleared his throat with a groan. “I should have said - I said ‘Summers’ to that asshole doctor, FUCK.”
“Janey, we need to get home,” Timothy took out his phone and scrolled through his surprisingly short list of contacts. He pressed the right one and put the phone to his ear, other hand curling around Angel and softly stroking her hair.
“Nish, it’s me, and we have a problem.”
Tim enlightened Janey on their situation as they drove through the empty streets.
"Lance, are pretty serious, are you sure you guys are gonna be ok?" The blonde asked for the umptieth time.
"We're fine," John snapped back, sick of hearing the irritable nasally accent.
Tim made a displeased sound, before turning his attention back to their driver.
"Get Hughes to give you my latest paycheck, I'm not going to be around to collect."
"Seems, like you're gonna need it more than me," she said, as she flicked on the indicator and reached their dingy part of town.
"Just take it, Janey,":
She shrugged, "ain't gonna argue with free money."
"It's not free," Timothy paused, "Lance will come looking for us, they WILL question you, consider it compensation."
"Um...what do you want me to say? I'm not, you know, good at fibbing and stuff."
"The truth, you picked us up from the hospital, and you dropped us off at our apartment. Do NOT lie to them, Janey. I don't want you to get hurt because of this."
The blonde nodded warily and eyed Tim, and Angel carefully before turning around in her seat and giving him a grim look.
"Pull in here," Tim pointed to the curb, "best you don't see which apartment is actually ours."
"Bloody hell, what kind of trouble are you two in? No wait, don't answer that."
Tim chuckled, and John rolled his eyes. His brother's familiarity with the woman was tiresome.
"Alright, best be off the lot of you," she quipped brightly, despite the grim and urgent atmosphere.
"Say bye to the rest of the crew for me."
"Will do," she gave him a solemn salute before pinching Angel's cheeks. "look after this little cutie too."
"Whatever, yeah, bye, " John growled and got out of the car, he could not stand the situation a moment longer.
Janey waved out the window as she pulled out and back into the dimly lit streets.
"Right," Tim sighed and adjusted his grip on Angel. "We go in, and then out. We leave this planet in the next hour, got it?"
He said nothing and followed his brother's lead. As they arrived at the parking space near their dingy apartment, Nisha was there waiting for them with a duffle bag over her shoulder. She was a woman of many talents, but her best quality was that she was always around when needed. Granted, she took liberties in deciding the priorities of said needs, but if the situation was deemed worthy of her presence, Nisha would appear right on time and out of nowhere.
"Boys, what did we do now?"
"His fault," Tim growled and punched the call button for the elevator.
"Oh fuck off Timmy! I took her to the hospital, not my fault they're a bunch of elitist cunts over there."
"Will you stop calling every fucking person who gives you a weird look an 'elitist cunt'!" Timothy snapped, one hand smothering Angel's ear.
"Weird look!?" Jack spluttered, losing his words at his brother's ignorance. "They pulled me away from her, all because I didn't fit their profile of a fucking obedient Omega parent! I proved I was the father what the fucking fuck did they even - "
"Who's fault is that?! You got that brand ‘cause you wanted money to fund your idiotic Alpha dreams, not once did you consider the life you were bringing into this world!"
If his brother had not been holding Angel then John's hands would be fast around his neck.
"Our parents raised you so well, didn’t they?” He rasped, throat hoarse with rage. “That was no act in the fucking cell,was it?! You were lapping it up, being in power and degrading me like I was worse than a shit stain on the pavement. You LOVED being one of them!"
"Everything I do is for the daughter you dumped on me, you useless fuck! You have no idea how -"
"Enough!" Nisha slammed her hand on the emergency stop button. "Dare I say I wished the damn cub was crying to drown you two out!"
John glanced down at Angel in Timothy's arms; she had gone awfully quiet, face burrowed into the crook of his neck.
"You said we have five minutes. it shouldn't be too hard to repay me with some goddamn peace and quiet!" The female Alpha bared her teeth and glared between them. "Good?"
Neither of them replied.
"I asked if we were good?" she snarled and both brothers shrank back against the wall. In the end Nisha was above both of them: even Tim accepted that unspoken arrangement and if there was one thing Alphas had problems with, it was not being on top of the ‘food chain’.
A quiet ‘yes’ escaped Timothy but John said nothing, clenching his jaw tighter.
"Then let's move it," she said and slammed the elevator button again so they could continue their accent.
They could only take what they could carry and that wasn't a lot. Angel wept as Timothy tried to explain why 'butt stallion' the unicorn had to stay behind.
Nisha wasn't great with kids, but she did her best as the two brothers ran around the apartment. Timothy pulled off the aircon paneling and retrieved his stash of cash and back up ID’s for such a case like this.
Nisha paced to his side, with Angel on her tail. She tapped furiously at her echo and didn’t look up as she spoke.
“I’ve got us a ride. We’re heading to one of the Eden’s moons. Not sure which one just yet.”
“What about Hyperion?” John came from the kitchen, beer in hand and not much else.
“What about it?” Timothy seethed and stashed the money and valuables into a backpack.
“I take the job, we become one of them. They can protect us.” John said simply.
“Like they’d give a shit about some new employee!” Timothy fired back and Angel started to cry again.
“We’ve lingered here too long. Let’s move.” Nisha kicked at Timothy’s ankles and scooped Angel up into her arms.
“Fine.” John spat, “but I still think we should see Hyper–”
Nisha drew a sharp breath and held Angel close. Timothy never got a chance to respond; he never saw the laser hovering over his chest, or the gunshot that fired, but he felt it. Pain surged up his shoulder and he howled in agony. Something heavy was on top of him, keeping him to the ground. He blinked back the pain and found John over him, holding him off the ground and dragging him behind the bed.
“FUCK!” Nisha cursed and clutched Angel with one hand, while the other drew her pistol.
Timothy tried to call to her, to Angel but the pain was too great. His head rolled to the side and his vision turned spotty. Someone was calling his name. It wasn’t Nisha – she had left his side and was hovering over the bed firing at the intruders – it was John.
“TIMMY!” Warm hands wrapped around his cheeks and pulled his head up.
John’s eyes were wide and panic was drawn across his face, twisting the brand into an ugly shape.
“You gotta get up!”
Timothy raised his hand and found it covered in blood. It fell uselessly at his side and something warm and sticky coated his chest.
“Timmy! Come on.” John wound his arms around him and tried to pull him up but stopped when Timothy kicked and cried out.
“Fuck, don’t move me!” He choked and pawed at his chest. “Fuck, fuck fuck.”
“You’ve been shot.” John’s voice became eerily calm. “Come on, you gotta get up, you gotta move.”
“Daddy?” Angel cried and Timothy blindly searched at the ground beside him, seeking her hand.
“You can do it.” John gently shook him but the spots in Timothy’s vision had almost consumed the room around them and his twin’s face. He was breathing heavily and every rise of his chest twisted the bullet inside him.
“Timmy?”
Timothy eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body fell limp.
“Timothy!”
The last thing he heard was his twin calling his name.