Delta 7 Pt 04

Delta found himself standing in the narrow hallway, his heart pounding.

He couldn't stay here. He had to get out now that they were still docked at the base. If he ever hoped to escape it had to be now, before whatever they wanted to do to him at Biocare. Fuck, but where could he go? Deserting meant a life on the run. And he hadn't been on the lower decks of the base in such a long time. He wouldn't survive down there.

And then there was his comm. The wristband was permanently anchored into his forearm. Removing it would pulverize his bone. Was he really ready to lose his hand? For a life on the run? No, if he wanted to leave, they'd have to release him from duty. Maybe if they found him defective, they'd let him go? Probably they would just tighten the leash, give him more damn commands.

As he walked briskly through the ship's corridors, the gammas in his way once again jumped to the side. His anger seemed to scare them off. Good. He wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now. He needed to find a place to think, to figure out his next move. The training room. Maybe he could blow off some steam there.

When he arrived at the shooting arena, he was relieved to find it empty. The gammas were probably all too busy preparing for the launch to train their hand-combat skills right now.

Delta walked over to the weapon rack and picked up a plasma rifle, the familiar weight comforting. Gripping the weapon tightly, he started going through the combat drills he'd practiced countless times before. The familiar movements and the adrenaline rush always helped him focus his thoughts.

Of course the alpha had been using suppressants to stay in control of himself. He was an alpha after all. They were all control freaks. Delta shouldn't have let his hopes up that this one was different. It had been stupid wishful thinking. Sure, the alpha hadn't forced himself on him, yet, but he also hadn't hesitated a second to use the chip to keep him in place.

Delta shouted, releasing all of his pent-up frustration as he hit his last target.

After snapping the safety back on, he threw the rifle back into the storage container and leaned down against the wall. His forehead was wet with sweat, and he ran a hand through his hair to wipe it away.

The alpha had been taking those pills to hold himself back. He was a control freak, for sure. But he'd done it at least partially for Delta's sake, hadn't he? Had the alpha really allowed his own health to suffer, for him?

He knew that he wasn't behaving like a delta was supposed to behave. If they hadn't known it before, they would know it now. Storming off like that broke every military protocol they'd drilled into them at the academy.

But what did they expect? It had been only yesterday that he'd wanted to join the alpha's himself. No, shit, he still wanted that. He still did. It was all he'd ever wanted. He had to force himself to remember the alpha's order not to complain about it. Already, it felt so natural to just suck it up and try to get used to it. But even without complaining, maybe he could still show them they'd made a mistake by putting him here. He'd show them, somehow.

It was a struggle to force himself back to the alpha quarters. Being defiant would do him no good, they'd only put more restraints on him. Escaping was impossible. But the alpha had seemed hesitant to go to Biocare with him. Maybe he could use that. His only option was to endure it for now, wait for an opportunity to prove himself, and then...

Fuck it, he'd figure it out then.

* * *

Seven sat on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling slightly as he looked at the small vial of suppressors in his palm.

Minutes ticked by, and he could feel the pills slowly taking effect, the familiar numbing sensation washing over him like a blanket. It didn't actually hurt him, not when he was able to just stay like this, away from the hectic pressure of the bridge, or the control mechanisms of the warship. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good either. His heart felt heavy, his muscles tight, and the repressed release of hormones made his skin itch.

Tonight would be the last time he'd take them. After that, it would be like it had been with the women back at the alpha training program. It would be fine. He had been fine back then too. He would miss being in control of his urges though. Now that he'd gotten a taste for it, he was almost scared to let go.

But River had been right, of course. This wasn't sustainable, and the beta officer could know. He'd been a soldier for 24 years now, having started his service in the same year that Seven was born. The older beta had lost his two previous mates to the war, and had served under three different alphas, Seven being the fourth. The man must have seen it all.

So Seven trusted him when the beta had taken him apart and told him that something was seriously wrong with his delta. Even if the soldier found it difficult to get used to his new status, this wasn't normal, or even acceptable, for an academy-disciplined soldier.

Alpha's were supposed to be fully in control during work. Apart from the superior and the governor, there was nobody ranked higher than them. And with the superior in the front lines of the war, and the governor back at the base, there was nobody else on Valor 7 to keep him in check. If anything went wrong, it would be his fault, and his fault alone. The pressure was immense, and his delta was supposed to be there for him to support him, in whatever way he required, but especially in the bedroom so that the alpha could release some of their hormonal highs.

Even if Delta's personality couldn't be helped, there must be something done with his chipping configuration. River had never seen a delta behave this way, and if River recommended a trip to Biocare, Seven would be stupid not to listen. But was his delta really that badly behaved? He'd been so confused and scared. Maybe his defiance was just the confusion shining through. Seven still felt as if it was his fault, somehow, for failing to show his Delta how precious he was, or would be, once he embraced his new status.

Seven glanced at the doorway, waiting for Delta's return. The weight of his first day felt so heavy on his chest. Or were those the pills? It didn't matter. He felt tired either way. Lost in thought, he blinked himself back to focus as the doors slid open, and his delta walked in. He was so beautiful, even if he was dirty with the grime and sweat his first workday. But his shoulders were tense, his expression guarded.

Seven felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the soldier was probably expecting him to still be angry after their conflict earlier.

'You're back.' Seven said, trying to keep his voice calm and non-confrontational.

Delta took a deep breath. 'I just... I know I didn't handle things well,' he admitted, looking down at the floor.

Hearing the Delta's meek tone, Seven felt some of the tension in his chest release. He stood up and walked over to his delta, wanting to reassure him that it was alright, that things would be alright. 'Hey,' he started, placing a hand on Delta's shoulder.'I know this is still difficult for you...'

Delta nodded, shortly meeting Seven's gaze through his long lashes. But where Seven expected vulnerability, maybe even remorse, the delta's eyes were filled with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat

Seven swallowed. Maybe, maybe the delta just needed a little more encouragement?

'... but being a delta doesn't mean you can't be strong for me.' he continued 'I value that about you. But the protocols are there for a reason. I know it might be easier for you if you were ordered to obey them, but we can't win this war if we don't stay flexible,' he explained, paraphrasing the lessons he'd learned from his own alpha training modules.

'I appreciate that, alpha.' Delta finally said after a slight hesitation, his voice tinged with something Seven could not quite place. Seven had decided to remove his crew's ability to lie during their first meeting, but despite the truth of the delta's words, Seven could feel a wall being erected between the two of them. Strangely enough, it had felt easier when the delta had been more openly defiant. This pretense of submission was almost more challenging to handle.

'Delta.' Seven tried again, his hand trailing over the delta's shoulder. 'I want you to know that you can be honest with me. You don't have to hide anything.'

The delta bowed his head in another pretense of submission. 'I'm not complaining.' he said.

Seven took a step back, and stared at the delta's distant gray eyes. He could barely believe it. For his subordinate to walk such a fine line over his previous command not to complain. It was borderline insubordination.

River had been right. This was dangerous. If the Delta didn't want to obey, if he didn't care about the war more than his own misguided source of pride, surely he would be able to find loopholes within the rules, sabotage the mission, and put everything at risk.

'Join me in the bathroom. I need to treat your scar.'

As if tugged on a leash, the delta followed him. He did not say a word as Seven ordered him to undress, to shower, and to hold still as Seven rubbed the Medicare gel to the delta's rapidly healing scar.

Once they were in bed, they lay next to each other in silence, the tension between them measurable. Seven wanted Delta to reach out for him, to tell him that he regretted his behavior, that had all been a misunderstanding. But the comforting embrace did not come. Was his new mate's character really as defective as River had said?

The pressure in his chest felt tighter than ever, but he knew that he had to be patient. Biocare would help them, tomorrow.