Chapter Text
Steve
“I don't want to meet with the new alpha, Natasha.” Steve’s voice is low and calm. But he feels far from it. Hydra is a rival wolf pack. They’ve been at war essentially since the beginning of their packs hundreds of years ago. Both packs have grown tremendously and both of them have their own clans divided across the world. Steve is an Apex Alpha. He has the final say in all decisions made for the entire Avengers pack, not just their clan which lives together in a pack house on their land, their territory.
Steve was adopted and taken into the Avengers pack forty years ago as an infant. Twenty years ago Hydra made their first bold move. They killed the original alpha of the Avengers pack. Nick Fury, who adopted him. He was the only apex alpha in the entire pack, not to mention raised by the former alpha and trained to possibly become one.
He isn’t a bad alpha for his pack. But he is cold, and he is hardened by time and the trauma of witnessing so much loss at the hands of Hydra.
Over the last twenty years omegas have been stolen and tortured and murdered, only to be sent back to them dead as though it were a warning.
Every retaliation resulted in more bloodshed.
They could not form a treaty because Hydra refused. They wanted to be the highest ranking pack but because the Avengers are known for being helpful, they could not take their rank.
They’ve gone around the world picking at their members. They always target omegas and children.
Steve doesn't know what they think will happen. Every time one of their own dies the Avengers hunt down the culprits and murder them, to ensure it stops. But it never does. So the cycle of blood shed just keeps continuing.
They try to protect their omegas and pups. They have treaties with other packs trying to do the same. But omegas are easily manipulated. If Hydra plays the sound of a baby crying they will run. And pups are pups. They’ll do what they want if they’re headstrong. And if Hydra uses one of their own omegas and pups to lure the pup close, they fall into their trap.
A few weeks ago they got Dolores, or Dot. A beloved omega and a close friend of Steve’s. The tortured her, raped her, murdered her, and decides to video it and send it to him. Natasha shredded Alexander Pierce when the old deranged alpha admitted to it.
Pierce said they wanted to destroy Steve without having to kill him because they couldn't.
He’s an apex alpha. He is naturally more enhanced than even normal alpha. He can control his scent and pheromones to calm people. He can regulate his emotions or even turn off his emotions when necessary for the safety of his pack. He has greater stamina and greater natural strength. He isn't immortal by any means, but he also heals faster.
If they tried ambushing him they would fail. If he sacrificed himself Sam would take the role as a leader because he is a gamma and Steve’s second in command and he trusts him the most. But the fight wouldn't end because neither would the Avengers.
It isn't an easy situation to navigate.
For some reason, the new alpha of Hydra, Brock Rumlow, has reached out to Natasha, a beta, and his delta, asking to arrange a private meeting. He doesn't want to. Even with his control and restraint. If he taunts him once about any of their losses that THEY caused he will lose it.
“Steve.” Nat puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”
He swallows and looks away from her. His heart thumps harder in his chest and his stomach churns. He's the alpha. He’s supposed to do the difficult things to protect his pack. A measly meeting is easy enough that he shouldn't be so unwilling to go.
“Don't do that,” Nat whispers. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll have backup. Okay?”
“Fighing isn't what I’m afraid of.”
And he agrees to meet with Brock. In between their two territories, in the middle of the forest. Both in their human form. No weapons.
“I want to form a treaty.” And it’s like a record scratch moment. After everything they’ve done they don't deserve a treaty. They don't deserve to live in peace after all the pain they've caused. But the Avengers can't let an entire pack suffer because of the actions of their leaders. And a treaty would stop everyone’s pain.
Steve hesitates before responding. “Continue.” Treaties can be formed in many ways. An omega being offered for marriage in severe cases. Promise of supplies back and forth. A promise that if one pack is in trouble, the other pack will defend them, and likewise.
They’ve tried for years and Hydra always refuses.
“We’re offering you an omega. A peace offering. We won't fight anymore. And we need supplies.”
The Avengers are known both for being industrial and their medicinal plant and firewood. They trade with many packs and sell to others. He would be willing to make this deal.
“After all that you have done, how can I trust you?” Because this could be another hoax. They could show up to collect the omega and they could be immediately attacked. More war. More bloodshed. And more loss, not just for the Avengers but for Hydra as well. He wants to believe him.
“We’re low on supplies. Nobody will trade to us. Our pack is growing but not thriving. If you mate with an omega from our pack it will create a bond.” He knows how it works. If he mates with an omega from their pack it will create a treaty that by law cannot be broken. If it is, it won't just be the Avengers retaliating.
“You’re genuine,” he states.
“I am. The omega is of age. He’s been orphaned so he doesn't have anything with us anyway. He’s pliant. He follows instructions. He can be easily trained. If you want, he is of pup-bearing age.” He talks about him as though he isn’t even an omega but a product he's trying to sell Steve on.
But he would be a fool to say no.
He would be a fool to be convinced this was real.
But if it is, he must say yes.
“When do we make the exchange?”
“Tonight. We will have the omega ready for you by tonight.”
“I don’t trust them.” Is what Sam says when Steve tells him what Brock proposed. “What if the omega is out to kill you, huh? Or if the omega is completely made up. Any number of this could happen tonight and every single one I’m picturing- someone’s head is ending up on a stick.”
His mind has drifted there over and over again. He has run through all the possible attacks Hydra could have orchestrated. But it makes sense at the same time. The Avengers would be the most forgiving pack- despite them being the ones hit the hardest. But this is a means to an end. They need help, they’re about to agree to a treaty that could result in permanent peace. But if they do break it the Directorate of Pack Affairs (DPA) will have all of them exterminated. He doesn't think they could risk that.
“Sam, this could be peace,” he whispers. “If they break the treaty you know what happens.”
“Nobody is stupid enough to break a treaty intentionally. But any pack or clan can lie. Steve, it could be your head on a stick.” Sam looks genuinely afraid. “We have treaties with the SHIELD pack and the Defenders Pack. we could get together next time they try something- this could go so wrong.”
He takes his friend’s words to heart. But he feels he has to try this. “If that does happen you will take over.”
Sam’s face falls from anger to realisation. “You really trust them?”
Not in the fucking slightest.
But he has to try because this could better a lot of packs’ lives including theirs.
“I don’t, Sam. But I need to try this, do you understand?”
“Rogers, you can't.” The deep British accent makes Steve’s heart lurch. Peggy. They served in the Army together fifteen years ago now. She was rogue after leaving London. She became a part of their pack because she saved his life and they became very close. She’s an alpha, and a gamma. “If we lose you, nothing will ever be the same.”
It does make him feel a bit of guilt. Even if it would be in the pack’s best interest, and there is someone, Sam, trained and ready to take over in the case of sudden death, it would devastate his friends. “Peg.”
“Steve,” she counters, her voice quieter. “What if it’s a trap?”
He gives her a gentle smile. It’s unlikely in the case of an ambush anything deadly would happen to him. And his clan will lurk deeper in the forest so they are not in immediate danger. “Don’t underestimate me, Agent Carter. Everything will be alright. You hear me?”
Sam shakes his head, eyes on the ground. “Nah, I hear you man. I just don’t believe you.”
Bucky
“I don't want to be mated,” Bucky whispers. How could they suggest such a thing? He’s only recently had his heat. He was considered a pup A WEEK AGO! Now they’re talking about giving him away to the Avengers? Whom they have been torturing for over a century? He walked in on Brock strangling a toddler a few years ago. He thinks he’s going to be killed, honestly. As payback. “I don’t get it. Why me?”
“You're the softest,” Jack tells him. “Recently presented. You’ll be helpless to the commands of an apex alpha.”
They know what they're doing. They could do this in a different way if they weren't so fucking power hungry. They want to have some kind of upper hand. Avengers won't ever be able to come at them. For anything. Even if they uncover something majorly fucked up that Hydra did a few months ago and covered up.
Honestly, they could murder Bucky for it instead and make it look like an accident. The treaty still stands because the DPA would rule his death an accident.
This could go so many ways. And all of them are bad.
“You will be alright, James.” Becca tells him, coming to kneel beside him. She's his older sister, an alpha, but just a hunter. A mundane wolf in their pack. Almost as low ranking as he is. “You’ll be mated to the alpha. You’ll be a luna. Is that not.. Exciting? He will treat you well. You know how the Avengers are.”
He also watched a red wolf with green eyes literally shred their former alpha a week ago. What if he steps out of line? What if his pack blames him for something and the Avengers murder him for it? Pierce’s screams still absolutely haunt him. Terrible alpha or not. Terrible way to go. Traumatic- for everyone who saw it.
Rebecca looks at him sadly. She leans in and kisses his forehead. “Come on.. I’ll help you get ready for the ceremony.”
He doesn't know what the ‘ceremony’ actually entails. He doesn't think he’s getting mated. That’s private. Even when done between alphas and their future lunas. He stands up and walks with Rebecca, his head is swimming. His whole body is shaking. He can feel his pulse thrumming all the way up his arm.
“Will he bite me?” he asks, walking into their small, shared bedroom.
“Eventually,” his sister tells him gently. “Not right away. The ceremony will be easy. Rumlow will talk to Captain Rogers. They will shake hands. Agreeing to the treat. Then you will be sent forward. There’s a blood pact- because it’s no normal marriage or mating- it’s an alliance. It will- this is hard to explain.”
But it scares him. His heart lurches. “Becca- for my sake, please try.”
She looks at him softly, she resembles their mama so much. Their papà died before they were born. Their mama was killed by Pierce when Becca was sixteen and Bucky was eight because she was having relations with an alpha from the Asgard pack. They didn't dare stand up to their former alpha. Unlike most, Hydra has no morals surrounding the murder of pups.
She reaches out and cups his cheeks, inhales slowly through her nose and then exhales slowly through her mouth before she speaks again. “Blood bonds are temporary. Within a few weeks it will be gone. But before it’s gone you both will be mated. Otherwise you face repercussions with the DPA. But it proves the Avengers’ loyalty to Hydra. They won't go back on their word. The treaty will be genuine.”
He still doesn't like it. He’s an omega. He’s squeamish by nature. He doesn't like pain. Omegas biologically have a lower pain tolerance- ironic considering they’re the ones that have to give birth.
“Will it hurt?”
“Uh- I mean they’re not gonna stab you. It’s like a paper cut. Please don't overthink it. If you overthink it you’ll panic. If you panic- you’ll run. I have no idea what they’d do if you ran but for your safety. Trust me. Breathe, my sweet. The Avengers are good. They are known for being fair. You will not be hurt.” He tries his best to believe her. And he doesn't. But as a means to comfort himself he pretends what she says is true. Like he’s playing make believe.
Rebecca runs a bath for him and puts some dried and crushed lavender and magnolia in the hot water. Because they don't have a lot of money they run out of water quickly. More importantly they run out of hot water quickly. He doesn’t usually get relaxing baths. But because he is going to be the reason for the future of their pack, he gets to be taken care of before the ceremony.
A small comfort, he supposes.
His sister brushes his hair and uses a cup to rinse it. She trims the ends, scrubs his scalp with some homemade soap that smells like cocoa, which compliments his natural scent. Which is like fresh coffee beans, with hints of dark chocolate.
“This will make your pheromones stronger,” she says when she runs a bar of soap over his arms, focusing on his wrists. He looks at her confused, waiting for her to elaborate. And she does. “Sinks into your skin, especially your glands. It will make them stronger- omega pheromones attract alphas. It’s a biological reaction.”
That's unsettling. But she said he won’t bite him tonight.
If he doesn't bite him tonight, he is led to assume he won't fuck him either.
He tries to relax into his sister’s touch. He is sixteen, plenty old to bathe by himself. And he does the rest of the time. But this is different. It will probably be the last time he sees his sister for a long time. And he’s really nervous. Rebecca did take on a maternal role when their mama died. If his mama were still here she would have been the one doing this- because mothers usually get their children ready for important ceremonies, especially one as important as a treaty ceremony.
Becca wraps him in a fluffy towel and blow dries his hair. He has a long wolf cut, it’s down past his collar bone but he has long choppy layers which makes it permanently messy. His hair just grows so fast as a wolf he didn't care to make the style pretty.
Would have been in his favour to do that though, now.
Becca does make it look relatively presentable. She pulls as many longer pieces back into two french braids, then ties them into a bun at the end with a baby-blue bow. “Represents purity,” she tells him. “Ceremonial.” He just nods in response. She tucks a couple of daisies into his braids and one behind his left ear. “You look lovely, Jamie.”
That does make his heart flutter. He appreciates it. He usually doesn't make himself look pretty or extravagant.
He is dressed in linen. Loose linen shorts and a loose linen tanktop. It’s kind of sheer but that might be the point.
Becca even does his makeup. It’s minimal though. Just some rouge on his eyes, cheeks, nose, and lips.
And then he is being escorted out of the pack house and several miles through the woods.
Steve
Eventually night falls. And it’s time. The Avengers walk to the border between the Avengers territory and Hydra’s territory. It’s a full moon, the stars are twinkling, and the cold autumn air nips at Steve’s skin. He trimmed his hair and beard, washed in pheromone enhancing soaps, and got dressed in nothing but linen pants, thin, tied with a string, and pocketless. It’s less about attraction and more of proof he isn't smuggling any weapons.
The Avengers lurk a couple of yards behind, staying behind trees. Multiple members of the Hydra pack come close, Brock is in front of them. No omega in sight, but often omegas remain hidden until safety is proven. No weapons. No wolves in full shift.
Brock and Steve meet in the middle.
Steve goes first. He slits his wrist with his nail, letting it drip onto the ground, right between his territory, and Brock’s. And he watches the other alpha doing the same. They will not trespass without prior warning. But it symbolises that this is a genuine pact. They’re beneath the moon’s gaze. Making a promise, a treaty, that war will end and peace will finally ensue.
Steve extends his hand, and gently, the other alpha shakes it.
The Avengers come out from behind the trees to stand behind their alpha. And then the Hydra parts. And an omega, no older than sixteen, walks towards him, crossing the line of his territory, and into Steve’s. He’s beautiful, yes. But he is oh-so young. His heart lurches because he will not turn back now. But he hadn't considered how young Rumlow had meant.
His bottom lip is trembling and his eyes are huge. Just filled with terror.
Jesus Christ.
His scent isn't distressed but it’s likely because of the pheromone soaps. It’s like freshly brewed coffee. It’s very warm and soothing, as most omega’s are. Alphas are defenders and protectors. Omegas are nurturers and caretakers and healers.
He made a commitment and he will follow through on it. The omega will be safer with him and the Avengers than he ever could have been with his own pack.
“Hi,” he whispers, voice low. He doesn't want to scare the omega. “I’m Steve.”
The omega’s throat flexes as he swallows. “Bucky.”
He knows how this works. But he doubts the omega does. Usually the omega kneels, the alpha promises to provide for them, care for them, and cherish them. Often alphas will hold the omega’s jaw or cheek, touch their hair. Bucky’s hair is braided back with pretty flowers though, so he doesn't want to mess it up. And by the looks of it. He can't imagine he would want to be in a vulnerable position anyway.
“James, kneel,” Brock says from a few feet away. His voice is sharp, unnecessarily so. Maybe it’s Bucky’s pheromones flooding his senses, but he feels immediately protective if not possessive over the omega. In his head, a voice is echoing, ‘my omega’. Not Brock’s.
Bucky does drop to his knees though. He isn’t kneeling through. He’s just sitting on his knees. Nevertheless, tradition is tradition, it isn't a mandatory requirement. He raises his hand to silence Brock, before slowly lowering it up cup the boy’s left cheek. He’s beautiful. He admires the braids and the flowers tucked into them.
“It’s alright,” he murmurs, rumbling to try and soothe him. “My luna, I will stand by your side from now until the end of the line. I will provide for you. I will care for you and the family we are to build. I will cherish you and remind you every day of how I adore you.”
He turns to look at Natasha who steps forward to set a silver dagger in his hand.
He drops to his knees in front of Bucky and lifts his left hand. He presses the knife into his skin and slides it across, watching a streak of crimson immediately appear. The omega looks even more afraid. He understands. The poor thing looks completely unprepared.
“It will hurt for only a moment. I promise,” he whispers. The omega does not look the slightest bit convinced and he watches as he lifts both hands and cradles them against his chest. He’s trembling but he can't tell if it’s because of the cold or because he is genuinely so afraid.
Bucky swallows and shakes his head. “I don't want to.. Please don't make me.” And Steve thinks he means the entire ceremony until he adds, “Please, I really don't like pain.”
But this part is less about tradition and more about the pact. It’s a promise and a commitment they can't go back on. He’s actually afraid if he were to turn back now Hydra may do exactly as his clan has been warning him. And the omega as well may end up hurt or worse. It would be innocent blood on his hands.
He takes a breath before speaking. “I’m sorry, omega. You must.”
This was chosen for the omega. Really, it’s not fair. Steve made his decision but Bucky was just forced into it. And while he knows eventually he will appreciate his home in the Avengers pack, he has no way of understanding or believing it right now.
Tears slip down the boy’s cheeks and oh, he is so pitiful.
He wants to lean in and kiss them away, but he doesn't. He doesn't even wipe them away. He just gives Bucky time to prepare. Brock looks impatient but one sharp look is all it takes to keep him silent. He doesn't want to force anything from Bucky unless it is for his own safety.
Eventually, he does extract his right hand, shaking like a leaf.
“Do I cut?” he whispers.
Steve shakes his head. Omegas either apply too much pressure or not enough out of nerves.
He cups Bucky’s hand from the underside with his own steadily bleeding hand. “Take a deep breath, omega.” He gives him a moment to do it, and he does. “Now breathe out. And look at me, focus on me. Right now.” He uses his alpha voice, which forces him to do exactly as he’s told. And when he does, he slices his hand quickly and efficiently.
He yelps and retracts his hand, giving Steve a look almost of betrayal.
It aches deep in his chest but he pushes it away for now. “Give me your hand,” he demands. And when Bucky does, he wraps his own bleeding hand around his. Their blood mixes together and it almost feels like gentle sparks, the adrenaline kind, rush through the palm of his hand and up his forearm. It doesn’t bother him but it makes Bucky whimper.
He holds the omega’s hand until his wound has healed. Bucky’s will take longer.
“Hey.. hey.. You did it, sweetheart.” Steve tears a piece of his pants off and ties it around Bucky’s bloody palm. And he doesn't ask before engulfing the younger wolf in a hug. “There you are.. It’s over. I know that was so scary. But you did so beautifully. I’m so proud of you, mega.” He praises him until he feels his body stop trembling.
He pulls away and lifts his head. His eyes are wet, his cheeks are tear stained, and his lips have been chewed bloody, but he is visibly more relaxed.
“There you are,” he whispers, coming to his feet, then lifting Bucky into his arms. “Sam?” he calls, and the gamma is quickly at his side, wrapping a black nesting blanket around the omega.
The walk back to the pack house is tense. But when they’re halfway home, Bucky falls asleep on him, and it feels like everything is how it is supposed to be,