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He had left around 9:00ish last night. The clock just ticked past 2:00 AM. You were determined to wait all night for him even if you fell asleep on the couch. But of course, 9:00 quickly turned to 10:00 and 10:00 turned to 12:00 and so on. As the late-night news ran on the TV, you and Sumo had tried to get comfortable on the couch. You wanted to get out your candle, your stomach was starting to hurt with how empty the house was, but you reluctantly held off. If Hank got home to that smell, you weren't quite sure if he would walk right back out the door. The last thing you wanted to do was bring him more discomfort.
That shared moment hours before now seemed like forever ago. Had you really crossed that bad of a line? The whole situation made you feel like you did something so terrible- even disrespectful. But even then, you couldn't help but swoon at the idea of the predicament of him towering over you, almost guarding you from anyone else.
Even if you were out of line, Hank never did anything to hurt you. Didn't curse you out, or raise his voice, or even make a move to hurt you or snap. He's had so much patience with you, it made you nervous to imagine this being where everything left off. Him rushing out the door because he really must’ve had some better place to be away from you.
The doorknob jingling didn’t wake you up when he had gotten back, fresh out of a 24-hour bar and was completely plastered. Immature was one way to describe what he did, being an asshole was another. He stormed off and left you there without so much as a goodbye or apology, just to go off and drink until fucking 2:00 AM. He knew in this case he was in the wrong. He was wrong for everything, advancing on you included.
Sumo picked up his head as soon as Hank walked in before he hopped off his place next to you on the couch to greet him. He patted his dog on the head briefly before making his way back to the kitchen to get himself a glass of cold tap water.
It looked like you had already put away dinner and done all the dishes, the kitchen was near spotless and you were still out cold on the couch with the TV on. He could only feel like a jerk as he saw you in the same clothes from earlier. Hank knew better. He really did. He knew there were better things to do than run away from his problems and leave you alone. As someone who's been a parent, of course he knew better.
But he couldn't stop thinking about the scenario in his head stuck replaying itself like a looping porn video. The way you tried to pull him back down to meet you halfway? He was a Deadman. Maybe after all these years of being on his lonesome all he really came out to be was some sick old man. Thoughts like this were not something he usually had, and unfortunately these new ones had to be unwillingly perverted. He didn't want to think of you, the one person he should be looking out for, to be some kind of contorted image of who you actually were.
All you were was someone that just wanted to come home with him, that just really needed a place to stay. But now it felt like so much more than that. He was nervous, and outright ashamed of how he acted out. As he tried to wander from the kitchen and opt out for the bedroom just to sleep through tonight, he heard you shuffle on the couch.
“Hank?” You rubbed your eyes quickly. “What time is it?”
“I'm going to bed” he said awkwardly, as if he didn't live here.
“Huh?” You hurried to follow him as he continued to walk away from you. In the dark you could make out his smell, the same deep woody scent along with something akin to cinnamon sweet with the beer on his breath as you followed after him. “Can I still sleep with you?”
“Could you just sleep on the couch tonight?” he tried to discourage you as he turned around a little irked. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep off the shitty feeling in his chest. Alone.
As he turned around you were both face to face. In the moment of him avoiding you he hadn't realized you were so close to him. Under his figure in the dark hallway, you looked up at him. Even in the dim hallway he could see it. Your skin was clammy and pale, and you looked almost sick.
“You don't want to sleep with me?” Those guilt-ridden words hit him.
“Y/n, I just want to be alone tonight.” He started to shuffle off his jacket. “I've had a really rough night.”
“Ok.” you sank into yourself.
“Do you need anything before I go to bed?”
“No, I'm good.” you said blankly in reply.
Dirty tears picked at your face as you were left alone in the living room on the couch by yourself. Even sumo had left to follow Hank to go to bed. In your messed up state you grabbed the TV remote to channel surf to find something more to your taste in a desperate effort to distract yourself. Tomorrow you would have to make it up to him, there was no way you'd be able to live with yourself, let alone Hank if you didn't make it up.
But even then, if you made breakfast and did everything else right would he still hold tonight against you? He left you feeling embarrassed. You were all alone with your thoughts again, just like before he left. Hank had tried to explain the complexities of omega and alpha relationships and he had tried to explain to you that couples do that kind of thing. Maybe it was another one of those things where only he was allowed to instigate it, but it wasn't ok if you did anything to ask him to go on- or... All of it was confusing.
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Warm sun spiking through the blinds ran over Hank's face. He could taste his own breath from last night, and it was not a welcome surprise. All of the shenanigans he pulled last night ran through his head and he remembered just how much in the wrong he was. For someone who was an authoritative figure he should've handled everything better.
He made his way to the kitchen after cleaning himself up with a shower, and some toothpaste. After about two weeks of having some company in his house he was running low on groceries again (not that he minded). Apart from all the stress he went through to just make sure that you were comfortable, he knew himself that he really needed the company. These last couple years were showing his clear wear and tear. Once again, he thought about last night. About how he jeopardized everything with you, let his instincts get the best of him.
“Hank?” your voice rang through the living room and to him in the kitchen, hitting him like ice cold water. He couldn’t muster a reply.
“Hank,” you said again, this time more somber. “I'm sorry about last night.”
“You want your eggs scrambled?”
“Huh?”
“Do you want your eggs scrambled or do you want them sunny side up?” he almost gritted the words out like they were sour in his mouth.
“I-I’m-” You broke your words as you turned your eyes to whatever was on TV. “I’ll just have scrambled.”
The TV was still on from last night and you could feel the faint echoes of a headache from the nonstop chatter coming from it. The hot iron rods of shame sunk back into your chest at the notion of him not accepting your apology, let alone acknowledge it. All that could be heard beside the TV was a metal fork scraping eggs from the stainless-steel pan to cut them up while they sizzled.
In hindsight he thought maybe you both could just forget about yesterday and put it behind yourselves. After all, you seemed pretty upset about it too. He made a couple pancakes from some left-over batter that had been sitting in the fridge, and some eggs to go with it. In the kitchen he took the self-liberty to just give himself a moment to think by himself to figure out what to do or say when he would have to make his way over to the couch to talk with you.
After a few minutes he told himself that he would apologize and reassure you that any of that would never happen ever again. He would have to do something nice to make it all up to you, and he would make sure you had plenty of space. When he turned around with breakfast in toe, he saw you sitting under your blanket on the couch. You were looking at the TV but not necessarily watching. Instead, it looked like you were looking right through the television, waiting for something more important to happen around you.
He handed you your plate and you both ate in silence, letting the awkwardness set in.
Then, while you were struggling to get a piece of broken yellow egg onto your fork you sobbed. Your face looked hot, like you were overheating. It had just happened out of nowhere, abruptly interrupting the quiet you both had only for a second.
“Y/n?” Hank set his food on the coffee table as he prepared to settle you down. “What's wrong?”
Then right there in that moment you scooted away from him.
Had you really thought he was going to pull something inappropriate with you? All he had done was- it wasn't exactly in the past yet. Regardless of yesterday, did you think he was gonna hurt you in any way? You had scooted away before he could even lay a big hand on your shoulder. So, begrudgingly he opted to just stay fixed to his spot on the couch a foot away from you.
“Y/n? Look, I'm sorry about yesterday and last night- I promise I was actually about to apologize after breakfast-” You continued to try and stop your crying and roughly pull the tears away from your face. Next to him on the worn couch you tried to suck up the negative feelings inside your chest.
“I didn't mean it, any of the things I did last night...” Of course you had still been holding onto last night, clamoring for excuses of why you were wrong and why you were sorry. Hank was growing impatient, especially with the smell of you becoming so distressed in the house. “Look, I'm sorry, ok?”
“Okay... “Within the next few seconds, he left you sitting on the couch and came back with some toilet paper. A self-reflecting hand came to your back and rubbed soft circles into your shoulder blade that still poked out a little too much on your figure.
“How about we go out and do something today?” In hindsight, he knew you needed to get out of the house, and he was desperate to make you feel better. He was fumbling with his words. “You wanna go see a movie or- we can go do something nice tonight like go shopping-.”
“You wanna g-go to a movie?” You tried to calm down with your heart in shambles still trying to stop your ugly sobbing. Even he could see you were barely holding it together.
“Yeah.” He used his fork to shuffle his hot cakes on his plate. “We should, it'll be fun.”
The tension in the room became just as bit more bearable as you looked up at him through glossy wet eyes. That told him there was some hope for him to make you feel better today.
“What time would you like to go?” you asked unsteadily as your plate was fastened tight to your lap via your hands holding it down like it might fly away, it was still covered in the ignored food he had prepared that you hadn’t finished. Salty wet hands refused to come back to wipe your own face, given tears were still rolling down your cheeks. Hank used some squares of the tissue to swipe them away as gently as he could, and this time you didn’t pull away.
“Soon.” he said as he tried to make you look presentable. “We’ll go soon, maybe after breakfast.”
You both didn’t engage in talking about last night as you tried to work on eating the rest of your food in a stiff silence. And after, Hank insisted you get ready first and go ahead and use the bathroom before him. He took this time cleaning up breakfast while you were in the shower. As he went to get a cup that was left on the coffee table his eyes met with the only book resting there. The Black Dahlia. It had been a little while you both read, he thought. He’d have to fish around the house to see if he had anything else he could read with you. After his fuck up last night he felt like he owed you…
By the time Hank himself got ready you were sitting on the floor next to the couch petting sumo, taking time to release any loose hairs from his neck and back. At this angle where he stood in the hallway you couldn't see him yet. Your dainty little hands felt over his dog’s ears and he couldn't help but watch, at least just for a quick stolen moment. You looked so calm, no worries in the world as if you’d never been abused or hit. He knew why he agreed to take you home, and the reason he did seemed like a lie now with how he felt himself staring at you like a creep.
“You ready to go?” He made his presence known as he got out of the hall.
“Yeah.” You still jumped from his voice as you pulled your hands away from sumo.
Outside he opened the passenger side car door for you like a gentleman and you gave him back a quick thank you as you climbed in. The drive was short as you took the time to look at the world go by out the window, during the first 10 minutes Hank snapped on the radio. As a married man so many years ago, he hated silences like these, especially in the car.
“Hank?” you quipped.
“Hm?” he hoped to God you wouldn’t mention last night.
“I’m sorry for-”you started but he quickly cut you off.
“What movie did you wanna see? I didn’t even check to see if there was anything good playing.” He rushed to change the subject far away from whatever you were about to apologize for.
“Oh.” Eyes that were trying to breach a connection to his shyly returned to the car window. “Um, I’m not sure what’s playing…”
Then that evil nothing of conversations returned. Ugh! This was so painful…
“We’ll just decide when we get there.” He sighed as the music on the radio ran. The music playing currently was an electro- Eurovision song that was kind of new, and he quickly drew his attention to it do distract himself. “Do you wanna change it to something else? This isn’t my kind of music.”
“What kind of music do you like?” you could sense the intensity of the atmosphere, and it seemed like an easy enough question to ask him.
“Don’t laugh.” There was a pause before he continued.” I like… Heavy metal, particularly loud music.”
“I’m sorry, I know you told me not to laugh alpha,” you said as a soft giggle erupted from you. “But I would’ve never expected you to like that kind of music.”
“Oh yeah? What kinda music would you have thought I listened to if I didn’t tell you.” There was a childish defiance to how he spoke.
“Maybe country music?” you sounded unsure and skeptical.
This in turn pulled a hearty laugh from him in the driver’s seat as he stopped at a light. “Jesus, so you think I’m some kind of cowboy?”
The hurtfulness from last night had been temporarily forgotten as he pulled into the parking lot soon after. After another back in forth he asked you to open the dash in front of your knees to look through his CDs to get a real idea of what he listened to. With a soft click the dash revealed a treasure trove of CDs that had all kinds of graphic depictions of album covers. The dash storage place was packed almost full of disc and you could tell he was proud of his collection.
“I would’ve never guessed.” Frail hands sifted through the disc, looking for anything that caught your eye.
“Why? What kind of music do you listen to?” he was more interested in knowing more about you.
This question seemed to bring an abrupt halt to the conversation as you tried as hard as you could to think.
“I-I don’t really know.” Your energy seemed to drop as you started to put all the interesting looking CDs away.
“The hell you mean you don’t know?” he tried to laugh it off, but clearly that wasn’t the right move. At his reaction you seemed so ashamed. In that house you had never been given an opportunity to explore anything like that.
“I never got to listen to music or figure out what I liked when I was with him.” You didn’t dare give that man a label or title, feeling like it would only give him more credit for what he’d done to you. “So, I’m not really sure what I like.”
That idea broke him. You were so incredibly young, and yet you had been almost completely scammed from having something so simple as music. He sighed as he felt an agitation stir up inside himself.
Wordlessly, he helped you out of his car and walked you to the front of the theater. As soon as you got out of the car you locked your hand onto his, and the warm comfort of it made him glow.
It was a bright sunny day despite the cold, maybe a little too bright as you walked down to the front entrance of the theater. Now it had been a while since he had taken you in, winter was quickly approaching. This building seemed large, and the idea of how big the screens were felt daunting. You didn’t want to tell him this was going to be your very first movie, he looked like he pitied you so much in the car. In retrospect, you weren’t trying to make him feel bad for you, but it had been the truth.
“Alright, they’ve got four different movies showing right now…” he squinted at the led display of names, trying to read them.” There’s a nature documentary, a horror movie, an action comedy, and I think one of them translated movies with the subtitles.”
“What do you usually watch?” you felt the impending doom of a decision oncoming and you didn’t want to make a wrong choice.
“It’s been years since I’ve seen a movie in theaters, but I think the action comedy sounds good…” his hand felt over his beard as he stood behind you so you could get a good idea of what was on the boards in front of you. “Does that sound ok?”
“Yup.” You nodded excitedly. But just as Hank was about to purchase the tickets, he paused.
“Actually, you mind if we get tickets for a later showing? There’s something I wanna do first,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes watched you carefully.
You blinked, surprised. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. That’s fine,” you replied, feeling a spark of curiosity mingling with a tinge of embarrassment. What could he possibly have planned?
Walking beside him out of the theater, you felt the cool breeze nip at your skin as he led you around the building. You didn’t dare ask where he was taking you or what he had to do, though your mind was racing. When he opened the door to the next building, the warmth of indoor heaters greeted you. You glanced around and stopped short. This wasn’t an oversized theater like you had thought-it was a mall!
The bustling crowds and bright store displays made your head swim, but Hank moved with purpose. You followed him with hands linked together, trying not to let your curiosity get the better of you and ask him where you were headed.
Eventually, he stopped in front of a tech music store. The sleek design and rows of gadgets glimmering under the fluorescent lights drew your attention immediately. Hank led you inside, stopping at a glass display case filled with music players of every size, shape, and color.
“Well?” he asked, his voice softer now, but no less steady as he leaned on the glass of one of the diplays. “Which one catches your eye?”
Your breath hitched as the realization sank in. He wasn’t just trying to distract you from last night, he wanted to give you something you’d never had before after hearing your sob story in the car. You glanced at the music players, each one sparkling with possibility. They were small handhelds, looking very similar to cell phones and coming in several different finishes.
Your cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. “Really? You’d let me pick one?”
“Anything for you, beautiful,” Hank said, his gruff voice warm and laced with a rare tenderness. He smiled down at you from his staggering height, pleased that you were in fact interested.
You practically lunged forward, wrapping your arms around him tightly, your face pressed against his chest. The strength of your embrace caught him off guard, but the way you clung to him said everything you couldn’t put into words.
For a moment, Hank froze. But then, his big, strong arms came around you, holding you just as tightly, his touch steady and reassuring. He returned your affection without hesitation, a small smile painting his face.
“Thank you, Alpha...” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the fabric of his jacket.
Those words. Those dangerous, heart-stirring words ran through him like a jolt of electricity. He swallowed hard, his hands flexing slightly against your back before he guided you gently to turn back toward the display case to redirect your attention away from him before he lost himself in your affections.
“Let’s try to pick you one out before we head back to the theater, yeah?” he said, his voice steady, trying to keep the moment grounded.
A flicker of hesitation crossed your face. “Are these... expensive?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Hank chuckled softly, shaking his head as his eyes scanned the models in the glass case. “A little, but I don’t mind,” he said casually, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You glanced at the display, fidgeting slightly. “I can... make it up to you later, Alpha,” you murmured mindlessly, your eyes not meeting his.
Hank stilled for a moment, the implication behind your words hanging heavy in the air. But he didn’t comment, choosing instead to focus on which of these music players would be best suited for you. He knew what you meant, but he knew he wouldn’t accept any of the favors you had in mind as a payment.
The next few minutes passed in quiet excitement as you picked out a sleek music player that immediately caught your eye. An associate helped you both find a clear protective case for it as well as headphones, and Hank paid without a second thought.
Walking back toward the theater, you stayed glued to his side, your hand clutching his arm tightly while the bag with your new music player dangled from the other. You barely let go, even as you walked through the busyness of the mall. Hank didn’t mind one bit.
He liked the way you held onto him, the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him like he was the best person in the world. For this nice moment, he didn’t stop you—or himself. Instead, he let you both indulge in the closeness, savoring the warmth of it.
When you got back to the theater and to your seats, you still stayed close, your shoulder brushing against his often. As the trailers started, you hesitated for a moment before slipping your hand into his, your touch tentative and shy, stirring up his stomach with an all too familiar feeling.
Hank glanced down, his heart doing a backflip as he felt your fingers curled against his palm then between his. He stole quick, fleeting glances at you in the dim light of the theater, his chest tightening at the soft gleeful expression on your face.
Then, just as the screen flickered to life with another trailer, you leaned in, tugging gently at his jacket’s shoulder to pull him closer like you wanted tell him something. Meeting you halfway, he leaned to you as you cupped your hand around his ear.
“I’m so happy, Hank...” you whispered, your voice carrying a quiet, heartfelt sincerity that made his chest ache in the best way.
For a moment, Hank forgot how to breathe. His heart skipped a beat, and he turned his head just slightly, his eyes meeting yours in the darkened theater. “Yeah?” he murmured back, his voice thick with emotion he didn’t bother hiding.
You nodded, your lips curving into a soft, genuine smile that warmed him to his core.
Hank didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze and settled back in his seat. The music store and this were the perfect idea, you seemed so overjoyed as you sat fully content next to him. Your scent was clean of anything unpleasant, warm and comforting next to him like a warm fruity pie. If this was what it would be like to be your alpha, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from making a move on you later.
You were so perfect, so sweet to him, even if he was messing things up all the time with you.
During the movie you found yourself leaning into Hank more and more, the comfort of his presence outweighing any lingering nerves from earlier. Your hand stayed in his, and every time he felt your fingertips brush against his it sent him reeling.
Hanks eyes couldn’t stop looking at you. The way your face lit up at the funny moments, the small laughs that escaped your lips- it was addicting. Your hand in his felt so right, so natural. But even as he cherished the closeness, something gnawed at him.
He wanted you. Deeply. Intensely. More than he was willing to admit to himself before tonight. And that scared him.
The thought of being alone with you later, your scent thick and comforting in the small, shared space of his home, made his Alpha instincts stir dangerously. If he lost control, if he gave in to the part of him that wanted to claim you fully- he’d never forgive himself.
Halfway through the movie, after another stolen glance at your beaming face, he made up his mind. He’d text Connor later, ask him to take care of you for a few days while he got some control over himself. Connor had his own place now, a small but secure apartment where you’d be safe. Even though Hank knew it was the right thing to do he didn’t want to send you away.
When the movie ended and you both returned to the car, he managed to send Connor the text, his heart heavy with dread as he saw you peeking into the shopping bag for the millionth time, looking over your newfound treasure inside.
The drive home was quiet, though the air between you felt different now. When you pulled into the driveway, an unfamiliar car parked there made you frown in confusion.
“Alpha?” your voice was small, hesitant. “Who is that?”
Hank’s scent shifted uncomfortably, something uneasy creeping into it. “It’s just Con. You’ve talked to him on the phone, remember?” he said, forcing a smile.
You nodded slowly, but the change in his tone and scent didn’t escape you. Something was off—he wasn’t telling you something. Just as you were about why he was here Hank spoke.
“I, uh...” Hank hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck trying to release an invisible tension in it. “I need to deal with something for a few days, and Connor said it’d be okay if you crashed at his place for the time being.”
“Are you going somewhere?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying a note of hurt. “Why can’t I just stay home?”
Hank’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled heavily. “Hon, look, it’s just a couple days. I’m gonna be at the precinct a lot, and I need him to watch you in case you need anything.”
It felt like he was giving you away, but there was nothing you could do to stop it.
“Okay,” you murmured, the word barely audible as it left your lips. Hank knew you wanted to argue, but you just shut your mouth dejected.
Connor stepped out of the car, his movements smooth and deliberate, and approached with an outstretched hand. “Hello, Y/N!” he sounded just like he did on the phone, his tone precise but oddly welcoming. “Hank has told me so much about you.”
You shook his hand hesitantly, your smaller fingers dwarfed in his. It was strangely warm for an android, and his polite demeanor felt familiar, just like the times he’d picked up the phone when Hank didn’t.
Hank’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “Go grab some clothes and whatever you’ll need for a few days, alright? I’ll talk with Connor in the meantime.”
Nodding, you slipped inside the house, your heart sinking with every step.
As you walked to his bedroom, the weight of Hank’s decision settled heavily on your chest. He was sending you away. The man who had brought so much comfort, who had protected you, and bought everything for you without question, was pushing you into someone else’s care.
Was it something you’d done? Had you annoyed him by being too clingy? Or maybe he just didn’t want to deal with you for a while.
Shaking your head, you tried to dismiss that last thought, but the ache in your chest refused to fade. Your fingers lingered on each item you added to the bed: a soft sweater Hank had once said looked nice on you, the music player he’d just bought for you, clothing.
Why couldn’t you just stay here? The house felt safe, familiar. The thought of being away from him-your Alpha- made you feel adrift.
“Maybe he didn’t actually forgive me for the other night,” you thought, the sadness creeping in deeper as collected your things. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the knot in your throat only grew tighter. He didn’t even want to explain it fully. He couldn’t even look at you when he told you and that somehow made it worse.
“Maybe this is just temporary. Maybe he’ll miss me, and it’ll be okay, and ill come home soon-“But even that thought couldn’t fully chase away the hurt.
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