Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t something anybody really talked about, at least not as a group at large. Couldn’t be helped, really, so why bother stressing about it? With dozens of boys in the Glade, they had a spattering of every kind: Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.

They were all just glad that suppressants were sent up in the box, enough for all of the Alphas and Omegas to take.

Not that everyone took them, but still.

Since the suppressants had started coming up, Newt never missed a dose. He’d earned his place as second in command by way of pure determination and commitment to Alby. Most of the other Gladers now didn’t even know he was an Omega.

He didn’t like to think about the fact that a bunch of them would probably dismiss him as a leader if they knew.

Alby knew, of course. He was an Alpha, and he was the only one still around who’d seen Newt in heat. It was in Newt’s first month in the Glade, before suppressants were being sent up.

(Newt sometimes wondered if his heat was what made the Creators start sending suppressants up in the first place.)

He’d done what he had to, locking himself up in a shack for four days while he rode it out. Alby had stood guard. He hadn’t offered, or demanded, anything of Newt - even when he stood there, scenting Newt’s heat for days on end. He kept the others, an Alpha and a couple Betas, from seeing Newt the entire time, knowing that Newt didn’t want to be taken advantage of while he was going through it all.

When Newt stumbled out of the shack, heat broken, it was to give Alby the sincerest thanks he could manage, and a promise to stand by his side no matter what.

They’d been inseparable, as friends and leaders, ever since.

The other Gladers who’d been around then were long gone, now. Now it was just Alby and Newt who knew of his orientation, and Newt hadn’t missed a dose of suppressants since they’d started sending them up to stave off his heats.

Some of the Gladers, mostly Alphas, decided to forgo taking the suppressants. They went into rut every few months, riding out the high with a friend, enjoying it even. Any Glader in rut or heat (and anybody helping them) was automatically excused from duties, so some of them took advantage of the opportunity, treating it as a well-earned break.

Newt thought that was pretty selfish, but he and Alby allowed it anyway.

Alby had only ever allowed himself one rut, and it was when he’d befriended another Omega. If they’d been anywhere but the Glade, Newt would have said they were dating.

They went through one of Alby’s ruts and one of the Omega’s heats together before the accident in the maze.

Said accident was the reason why runners were now the only Gladers allowed in the maze. Alby wouldn’t take his chances losing anybody else if he could help it.

Ever since losing his Omega, Alby was as diligent about his suppressants as Newt was, and together they balanced each other out as leaders.

While Alby was the one to take the Greenies on the tour of the Glade, and give them the Talk, Newt was always the one to have the careful conversation about orientation with them afterward, in private. Sometimes the Greenies knew what they were without thinking about it, but other times they had to remember it slowly, like their names.

Newt would never forget the time when an Omega Greenie hadn’t known, and went into heat two days after coming up in the box. That time it was Newt and Alby together standing guard outside the shack, keeping him safe and protected.

All in all, the Gladers’ orientations were only as much of daily conversation as their fallen friends - the crossed out names on the wall were spoken of in hushed, private tones, while Alphas, Omegas, and Betas kept their private business just that: private.

The clanking of the box coming up gathered everyone together, eager to see the newest Greenie. Newt finished patting the damp soil down around a tomato plant before heading over, wiping the dirt from his hands to his trousers while he walked. 

The other boys usually ran to the box as soon as they heard it coming, but after all these years Newt knew exactly how long it took for the elevator doors to open. He didn’t need to rush.

He took a deep breath of the fresh air before he had to push his way to the front of the crowd. The breeze was cool today, even if the sun was warm on his face. He concentrated on the scent of the crops, the trees, the sky above to settle his nerves about a new Greenie.

Newt loved the scent of the Glade.

He eventually pushed his way through the group of boys, finding his place next to Alby right as the box hit the grated doors. Newt watched as the grates were pulled open, revealing the newest Greenie to the crowd. He ignored the jeers and catcalls around him, listening to the spiel of welcome as the Greenie was lifted from the box.

A wave of dizziness hit Newt for a moment, but he gathered himself in time to watch the Greenie make a run for it, sprinting across the field before tumbling to the ground.

The Gladers cheered - or jeered, maybe - and Newt breathed in to be hit with another burst of dizziness. He swayed slightly, reaching unconsciously out to Alby’s forearm to steady himself.

Alby looked at him, a question of concern on his face. He didn’t say anything, though, both of them not wanting to show any weakness around the others, especially the Alphas like Gally.

Newt shook his head minutely, quickly finding his balance again. “I’m gonna go nick something from Fry’s pantry,” he said casually to Alby. Perhaps his vertigo was from hunger; he’d been working all morning with very few breaks. “I’ll find you two when you’re done with the tour.”

Alby nodded and Newt turned away, finding himself chastised by Frypan within minutes for stealing from the kitchens. Of course, right after fussing at him, Frypan made Newt a delicious sandwich and poured him a drink.

Newt wasn’t even sure if the food helped his vertigo, but he grinned at Frypan’s beratement all the same. Fry was one of his favorites in the Glade, ever since he’d come up in the box. His easygoing smile always made Newt feel right at home, probably because as an Omega, Frypan was innately nurturing and caring. He didn’t hide his orientation like Newt did, but let it add value to the Glade through his cooking.

As he left the kitchens, Newt saw Alby and the Greenie standing in the field. He headed that way, deciding to introduce himself sooner than later, and also make sure that the Greenie would find him later for a private chat.

Newt took in the Greenie as he approached, noticing the broad shoulders, scrunched brow, and smattering of freckles. He looked strong, both in stature and expression. Newt figured he would be a great addition to any of the work groups in the Glade.

“Hey, you alright, Alby?” Newt called as he approached them, planting a smile on his face. He tried to look confident and collected, even though his stomach was starting to turn a bit. Maybe that snack hadn’t been such a good idea.

“Ah, Green-bean,” Alby said, “meet Newt. When I’m not around, he’s in charge.” Newt shook hands with the Greenie, unable to stop himself from noticing how long his fingers were, how powerful his grip. Newt kept himself from breathing in through his nose, not trusting his unbalanced body or his thoughts right now even as he wished desperately to scent the teen. He was sure this one was an Alpha.

Joking: that would be a safe way to steer the conversation. “Well it’s a good thing you’re always around, then,” Newt replied, tearing his eyes away from the Greenie to look at Alby. He hoped he didn’t appear as freaked out as he felt, because now his stomach and lightheadedness was really starting to get to him. He needed to get away.

“Listen,” he found himself saying, “that was some dash you made earlier. You know, for a second, I thought you had the chops to be a runner.” Where had that come from? Why was he complimenting this stranger? “‘Til you faceplanted,” he tried to save. Maybe his comment would feel more like a jab than a compliment, now.

Newt couldn’t look away from the Greenie as confusion dug deeper on his face. Alby just laughed.

“Wait,” the Greenie said, and Newt noted that his voice sounded like liquid honey. “A runner?”

They didn’t answer him. Alby turned to Newt, both wanting to change the subject. “Hey, do me a favor,” he said, looking Newt up and down quickly. Newt knew then that Alby was sensing his distress, always knowing what was up with Newt before anything needed to be said. “Go find Chuck?”

Newt was grateful for the out. “Alright,” he said lightly, pushing past the two of them to get away. As his shoulder brushed the Greenie’s, a zing of pain went down his spine. He kept himself from flinching, made himself keep walking. He couldn’t help himself, though, as he turned his head enough to the side to watch Alby and the Greenie walking away out of the corner of his eye. The Greenie looked back at him once - twice - maybe more times before Newt looked forward and took a deep breath.

Breathing was obviously the wrong choice, though, as he suddenly had another wave of vertigo.

Forgetting about Chuck - did Alby actually want him to find Chuck, or was it just Alby’s smooth way of letting Newt out of the conversation? - Newt headed to the med hut. 

Clint had his back to the door, doing something at their shelves of supplies when Newt walked in the door. Newt didn’t have to say a thing for Clint to notice he had come in, though - Clint immediately turned and inhaled deeply.

“You’re an Omega?” he asked in surprise, eyes wide. Newt started, now feeling defensive in addition to ill. How did Clint know?

“What?” he replied stupidly, before he had to grab onto the door frame for balance. Clint rushed forward, grabbing Newt by the forearms and leading him to a cot to sit. 

If he’d been feeling any better, Newt would have been embarrassed about needing Clint’s help. Clint eyed him for a minute instead of answering, putting a hand on Newt’s forehead to feel it before wiping off a bit of moisture that had gathered there. He didn’t seem phased by the grime and sweat, turning away from Newt as he ran his hand down the side of his jeans to wipe it off. He went back to the shelf, fingering through some bottles and boxes.

He turned back to Newt with an offer of a very familiar bottle.

“I haven’t missed a dose in three years,” Newt said, pushing the suppressants away. Clint frowned.

“Newt, this is the only thing I can do for you,” he said as he stashed the bottle back where it belonged.

“What do you mean?” Newt asked. “You didn’t even ask for my symptoms.”

Clint looked at him incredulously. “You’re in heat, Newt. I could smell it the second you stepped in the doorway, and I’m a Beta with a pretty bad nose. Anybody here could tell you the same.”

Newt’s heart thudded in his chest and he wiped his hands on his face. He was hot, but it couldn’t be a heat. He hadn’t missed taking his suppressants. He couldn’t go through a heat again, not here.

A bottle of water was pushed into his hand. “You’ve got to get to one of the rooms within the hour, Newt, or you’re not gonna like yourself very much. It shouldn’t be that bad, though, if you’ve never missed a dose. Just a pseudo-heat.”

“Alby.”

A fog was starting to settle over Newt. All he could think of now, if Clint couldn’t help him, was that Alby could.

“Be right back,” Clint said.

Newt’s vision tunnelled until the only thing he could see was the water bottle in his hand. He uncapped it and took a long swig, relishing in the cool water as it slid down his throat. He closed his eyes, his free hand tugging at the top of his shirt. It was suffocating him, he really needed it off. He chose to take another long drink from his water instead, tracing the line of his throat with his finger as he swallowed.

“Holy shuck!” Newt opened his eyes to see Alby at the door, scenting the air. “Newt, come with me now.”

Alby’s hand on his wrist was forceful, strong. Newt felt, more than heard or saw, Clint and Jeff on either side of them, ushering them across the Glade to the private shacks, the ones where Gladers spent their heats and ruts.

They were maybe ten yards away when Clint and Jeff stopped to let Alby lead Newt ahead on his own. Another handful of steps passed before a shout rang out behind them.

Newt turned, seeing Clint and Jeff stopping the new Greenie, hands pressed against his chest. “You can’t,” Clint was saying. The Greenie was arguing, struggling against their hold.

Alby tugged on Newt’s wrist, but Newt was frozen. He inhaled through his nose, his sense of smell in hyperdrive.

His chest lurched at the overwhelming scent of mate .

“Alby,” Newt choked, not recognizing his own voice. Alby froze, his hand losing nearly all grip on Newt in response. Newt couldn’t look at Alby, though - his eyes were locked onto the newest member of the Glade.

The Greenie looked nearly as desperate to get to Newt as Newt was to have him nearby.

Alby said something that caused Clint and Jeff to let go of the Greenie. Newt watched as the Greenie cleared his throat, wiped his hands down the front of his shirt (as if he could wipe away any Glade grime that had already gathered there), and took a cautious step forward.

Newt’s tunnel vision was now focused on his Alpha, as he finally accepted and recognized what was happening. He hadn’t missed a single suppressant, but was going into heat. There was only one way to explain it - he’d been thrown under his own biological imperative when faced with his mate.

The Greenie was within reach now, but Alby still had a hold on Newt’s wrist. He must have also been giving the Greenie a terrible glare, because no movement to touch had been attempted.

“Newt, Newt!”

Newt finally tore his eyes from his Alpha, looking at his friend. It seemed Alby had been trying to get his attention for a while.

“You listen to me, Newt,” Alby demanded. Newt concentrated as best he could through the fog. “Do not lose yourself. You will hate yourself if you do. Do you hear me? Come out of this as best you can, and then we’ll talk - all of us. Just stay in the moment, you can do this. You’re strong. Good that?”

Newt nodded. His brain felt a little less foggy now; had Alby’s orders really cleared a bit of his heat-fog?

Newt looked down at where Alby held his wrist, not quite listening as Alby spoke to the Greenie. Something about Newt being strong and proud, and not to give in to temptations, no matter how great. Conversations needed to be had before Alby would allow anyone to touch Newt - before Newt would want anyone’s touch - mate or not.

And then long fingers, a strong hand, were holding Newt’s wrist in place of Alby’s. Newt’s skin burned, his whole body humming with energy.

He looked up, connecting the strong hand to the face of his Alpha, the Greenie.

“Come on, Newt,” he encouraged. Newt nodded, falling into step as he was led to the furthest shack and inside. Newt turned to see Alby and Jeff taking their stations outside before the door closed behind them.

Carefully, gently, his Alpha ushered Newt toward the small cot in the corner of the room. He carefully removed Newt’s shirt, the fabric wet with perspiration. Newt sighed at the cooler air touching his skin, shivering at the barely-there dance of his Alpha’s fingers on his chest. Then his Alpha was laying down on his back, pulling Newt down next to him. Newt didn’t hesitate: he tucked himself under his Alpha’s arm, fingers grasping onto his Alpha’s shirt and leg hooking over one of his Alpha’s, keeping him close.

Newt pressed his nose into the strong chest, inhaling deeply. The fog seemed to lift a bit more at the comforting scent of home and safe . Newt thought of Alby’s instructions, to not lose himself to his heat.

He wouldn’t lose himself, he knew now. Not when he had never felt as powerful and calm as he felt now, in the arms of his Alpha. They would get through this together.

Newt spent two long days of half-awareness being fed, given soft compliments, napping, and snuggling. On the third morning, Newt felt the heat sliding off of his bones. Alby was right - he had been strong enough to get through this heat without losing himself and giving in to bad decisions. This heat had been nothing like his last one. Maybe it was the suppressants still partially doing their job, or maybe it was the Alpha who’d been gently taking care of him.

He sat up on the cot, eyes finding the Greenie sitting on the floor across the room, the furthest they’d been from each other in over two days. He’d obviously figured out that Newt’s heat broke, deciding to give him space.

They eyed each other for a minute before the Greenie stood, grabbing a water from their stash and offering it to Newt. After Newt had taken a long drink, shaking the last of his heat away, the Greenie cleared his throat.

He offered his hand to Newt. “Hi, Newt,” he said like they’d never met before, starting fresh. Newt took the hand in his own, still relishing in the way they fit together perfectly even without heat clouding his judgement.

“My name is Thomas.”