AN: I wasn't sure if I would post this story, since it has darker themes than I usual do.
WARNING: Please know that this story heavily discusses sexual abuse and blackmail, mostly beginning in the second chapter. The actual assault is not described.
Anyone who knew Tony would say that he was hard to get along with sometimes. Heck, he'd admit it himself if you asked him, and probably list off several other less desirable traits that he possessed, just to round out the number.
But that didn't mean that he didn't try. He's not sure if it's due to his Alpha status or if he's just naturally inclined to attach himself to anyone who spends long enough in close enough proximity to him, but once he finds someone who shows him anything close to acceptance, he's liable to mentally adopt them into his pack.
Sometimes, it comes back around to bite him, like with Obie. Other times, he manages to attach himself to people like Pepper, or Rhodey, people who he can't quite believe are actually content to spent time around him, let alone be his friend. Because, he knows he can be hard to get along with, he knows he grates on the nerves of most people around him, and, generally, that isn't something that bothers him too much. He has his pack, such that it is, and he can be happy with that.
That is, until Fury decides to interfere in his life and shove him into a group of barely-held-together-super-heroes and expects him to somehow save the world. It doesn't help that Natasha is the only Beta in the group, leaving the rest of the Alphas to try to figure out how to navigate each other in less than 24 hours. To be fair, they had, but not before they'd managed to bare their teeth and do everything but bite each other's heads off in the process.
Okay, he's prepared to admit, that most of the hostility had been due to him, but only because of a certain other Alpha that had just recently been unfrosted and dropped on top of him.
Steve Rogers—the shining beacon of all Alphaness—had been a constant looming, disqualifying presence for much of his early life, and even just seeing the man was enough to raise Tony's hackles. Rogers hadn't been much better, standing as stiff and approachable as a board, everything but his scent sending off waves of distrust and discomfort, bordering on hostility.
His lack of scent had been off-putting, but Tony had some vague recollection of having learned in school about how the Captain had used suppressants during the war, something about keeping his scent hidden from Hydra for safety reasons… or something. He hadn't really bothered to pay attention to those lessons much, his dad lectured about Captain America enough as it was.
Either way, the Captain seemed to still be on suppressants for whatever reason, and the complete lack of signals in that area made interacting with him feel like trying to navigate a foreign city without even something as rudimentary as a paper map. The Captain seemed to make his opinion of Tony pretty clear though. So, there was that.
And then of course, they'd managed to work together to save New York and Tony's attachment instincts had jumped in, almost running away with him as he offered the tower to the Avengers as a place to stay. He hadn't exactly been sure what he'd expected to happen when he'd asked Rogers. He'd waited until all the others had accepted before he'd asked, unsure if the Captain would even want to speak with him, given how tense he'd been before.
Rogers had still looked slightly wary when he'd approached him, but there was also something so… so completely lonely in his eyes that gave Tony an abrupt and unpleasant reminder that the man was completely and totally lacking in a pack because he'd managed to outlive them all. In the end, he thinks that it was the potential of forming, or being around a new pack, that was probably the driving factor behind the Captain's acceptance of his offer.
Of course, then things got complicated.
In order to celebrate both their victory over crazy alien armies and everyone's decision to come live in the tower, he decides to host an informal gathering of sorts in the penthouse, (…once it had been cleaned out and everyone's rooms had been set up with the basics.) It's only about a week after the attack, so things are still a little rugged, but the space is open and big enough to accommodate the various Alphas and Betas as they mingle.
Rogers seems tense even then, although Tony is beginning to think that that's just how he is in general, so he doesn't pay it much mind besides doing his best to keep a friendly distance. He's still not quite sure what Rogers is really like as an Alpha, and nobody needs a repeat of the Helicarrier scene while they're trying to eat small cheeses.
As the party continues, Rogers seems to relax a little, which is a good sign at least, and they soon find themselves lounging on a ring of couches, glasses in hand and little plates of food scattered around as they chat.
It's Natasha that notices it first.
"Steve?" She asks, and as one, they all turn to see why she sounds so concerned.
Rogers is sitting facing her, his whole body a tense line as a shudder runs through his frame and Tony's brow furls as he notes the beads of sweat beginning to form along his hairline.
"Steve?" Natasha asks again, leaning forward. "What's wrong?"
Rogers flicks his eyes to her and one of his hands climbs up from his knee to clench around his stomach while the other digs into the cushion beside his leg. "Something's…" He sucks in a breath and shivers, his eyes darting around wildly. "Something's wrong," he rasps out, hunching over so far that he slips off the couch and lands awkwardly on his knees in front of them and Tony finds himself moving forward, along with the rest as the Captain falls forward. He's not really sure what he expects to do exactly, but something is obviously not right.
None of them manage to reach him though. The instant they start moving, Rogers' head snaps up and he scrambles backwards, literally vaulting over the back of the couch in his desperation to get away from them.
Tony freezes along with the rest of them as they watch the Captain scurry away, the sound of his rapid breathing filling the room as he scuttles into the closest corner and hunkers down, his arms over his head and his knees pulled into his chest.
Judging from the faces around him, no one else knows what's going on either, so Tony decides to address the most likely source of figuring out what has gotten into their Captain as quickly as possible. "JARVIS, what's happening?" He asks, never taking his eyes off of the cowering figure in the corner.
"It appears sir," JARVIS says after a moment. "That the Captain seems to be experiencing an abrupt onset of a heat."
Tony's brain stalls. He opens his mouth. He closes it.
"What?" Clint asks for him, shock radiating through the group.
In that moment Tony and the rest of them are hit with a wave of Honey and Apples and that is definitely not an Alpha scent. He flinches back and swallows as his Alpha instincts sit up and his brain sputters at the most recent revelation. Steve Rogers is an Omega?! Is the general gist of his thought process.
While he's busy recovering from the shock of finding out that one of the most prominent Alphas in recent history is apparently an Omega (as well as clamp down on any inconvenient Alpha urges at an unexpected Omega in heat), Natasha darts forward, her face set in determination.
"The rest of you, get out of here," she orders sharply as she crouches down a short distance away from the hunched Captain. "I'll take care of him."
"Nat, are you sure—" Clint starts, making as if to move towards her.
"He's an Omega from the forties," she says sharply, looking back at them. "Going into an unexpected heat, in the middle of a room full of Alphas."
Tony's stomach drops at the implications, and beside him, Bruce pales dramatically as, all of the sudden, Rogers' reaction makes way too much sense. Clint is the first to snap out of it, falling into line immediately and herding Tony and the rest of them out of the room while asking JARVIS for directions to some other lounge for them to stay in for the mean time.
In the end, they congregate in an empty room a few floors down that had been minimally furnished as some sort of spare room, the sparse furniture doing little for the already subdued atmosphere.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Tony finally breaks. "Okay," he says, waving a hand from his seat on the couch. "Am I the only one who's completely blown out of the water here or what?"
Clint blows out a gust of air and slouches down in the chair opposite to him. "All I can say is it wasn't in the files I got on him," he says, running a hand through his hair. "And my clearance is as high as Nat's, so I doubt she knew either."
"Do you think he's okay?" Bruce speaks up, looking slightly uncomfortable from his spot on the opposite end of the couch. "Most Omega's have pre-heat symptoms and the like, so they aren't usually caught off guard like that."
Tony swallows and he thinks back to the disconcerting image the Captain had made, crouched defensively and panting in terror in the corner of the room. His hands twitch and he wishes that he'd been a little more clear-headed in remembering to bring his drink down with him. "He was on suppressants, right?" He says, wiping his hands on his pants. "Maybe they wore off unexpectedly and triggered a heat."
Bruce hums at that and rubs a hand over his mouth. "It's possible," he concedes. "It's just amazing that nobody knew until now."
"Yeah." Tony barks out a dry laugh. "I mean, I'm pretty sure all the histories framed him as the All-American Alpha who liked to punch Nazi's in the face for fun."
"How on earth did he even join the army?" Clint cuts in, disbelief colouring his voice. "I thought they didn't accept Omegas into combat back then."
Tony purses his lips and shrugs. "Who knows," he says before continuing ruefully. "My dad never mentioned any of this at all. He seemed pretty convinced of the guy's Alpha qualities."
Clint sighs and slouches even further in his chair. "I wonder if Fury knows," he muses quietly. "Someone must have given him the suppressants, right?"
Bruce takes off his glasses and begins to rub them clean with the edge of his shirt. "We'll have to talk to Steve about that, after his heat," he says quietly.
And isn't that a sentence that Tony never expected to hear.
oOo
Rogers' heat lasts a week, and he spends the whole of it in the room that had been set aside for him in the tower. Natasha takes it upon herself to check up on him, making sure that he kept hydrated and such, while remaining tight-lipped about the whole thing.
"It's his first heat in a while." Is all she says. "It's hitting a bit hard."
Rogers reappears at breakfast one morning, dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants and somehow managing to look small and vulnerable despite his size.
And. Great. Now Tony is remembering that Steve used to be like, five feet tall or something, and his brain is helpfully theorizing on what life would have been like for an Omega of that size in the forties. He reaches stiffly for his coffee and scalds his tongue as he tries to cut off that particular train of thought and watches as Rogers drifts forward a little uncertainly, quietly edging around the rest of them while he pieces together some sort of breakfast, his Apple-Honey Omega-sweet scent less of a punch in the face than it had been, now that his heat was past.
And, okaaay, this is getting awkward. What are you even supposed to say for something like this? Tony wonders desperately as he takes another sip of his coffee. How long have you been an Omega? Did you know? You knew right?
Thankfully, Bruce steps in to break the silence, even managing to relax Steve's shoulders a bit as he asks after his health. "I'm okay," he answers quietly, fiddling with a bit of toast and keeping his eyes fixed on the counter in front of him, completely opposite to the sure-faced Alpha that Tony had grown up to expect. "I'm sure…" He swallows and his eyes flick up for a second. "I'm sure, um, that you guys have some questions…"
"You can tell us when you're ready," Bruce says gently. "There's no rush."
The other Avengers agree quickly and Tony nods along, because, of course it's up to the Captain what he decides to share… but he has to admit that part of him wants to break down and start asking questions now, like how on earth have you managed to keep this hidden for so long?
He swallows the question down and drinks his coffee. There's no rush, he reminds himself. I'm sure he'll tell us eventually. It's not like this is the craziest thing to come out of history ever or anything.
It takes three agonising days before Rogers sits them all down, Fury too because apparently even he hadn't known, and prepares himself to give them some sort of explanation for what had just happened.
By now he's a little more secure in himself, a little more comfortable with his Omega scent. (But really, that just means that he looks permanently defensive rather than uncertain like he had at breakfast.) He seriously looks prepared to fight them all, should they suddenly start dragging on his status or something.
Which, okay. Is pretty fair. Considering where he's from and all, but still.
Rogers takes a breath as they settle into the couches of the living room and sets his shoulders, raising his chin and clasping his hands tightly in his lap. "Okay," he says stiffly, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere else than here right now. "So… so I'm guessing no one knew that I was an… an Omega until now?" His eyes dart up and seem to linger on Tony longer than usual as the Avengers offer various negative responses. He blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, his scent carrying the slightest bitter tint of stress over to the rest of them.
"What I want to know," Fury says evenly, crossing his arms as Rogers looks up at him. "Is why on earth that wasn't on your files somewhere, and how you manage to keep it hidden for so long."
Thank you, Tony thinks, glad that he's not the only one completely lost in that area.
Rogers' lips press together, and he swallows tightly, shifting a little from his seat across from them. "That has to do with…" He sighs. "It's a long story," he says, slouching a little.
Fury raises an eyebrow and gestures for the Captain to get started.
Rogers breathes in again and rubs his hands on his pants as he starts talking. "You all know how I tried to enlist several times into the army," he starts, looking up at them as they all nod along. "I was so small and sick that they wouldn't even take me for any of the Omega rolls, and of course," he shrugs, "there was no way an Omega would be taken as a soldier…" His face twists for a second and his teeth clench before he shakes his head and gets back to his story.
"The story around Doctor Erskine is true," he says, his fingers knotting and twisting together in his lap. "He approached me with the chance of getting into the army via his experimental program but…" He glances to the side. "I was the only Omega in the program." His fingers lock together almost painfully. "When I was chosen to test the serum, the military side of the program wasn't really impressed. They didn't want an Omega." The skin of his fingers is white with how tight he's holding them and Tony wonders if it hurts or if the Captain is too distracted to feel it right now.
Rogers gives a one-shouldered shrug and his mouth twitches into a sardonic smile. "Most of them… most of 'em thought that the serum would turn me into an Alpha," he says, his fingers coming loose and rubbing against his pants again. "It made sense, the serum was supposed to achieve the peak of humanity, so of course that'd mean Alpha, right?"
Tony swallows uneasily and Rogers' lips press together. "Doctor Erskine didn't think it would though," he says quietly. "He said that if it didn't, that'd probably say a lot about what we saw as superior and inferior." His hands still and his eyes grow distant as he thinks.
After a moment his eyes refocus, and he gives his head a little shake. "'Course, the military was peeved when I didn't turn out to be an Alpha by the end of it, 'coz that meant I was basically useless to them, and Doctor Erskine was dead so they couldn't make more, better super soldiers…" He swallows and his hands clasp together tightly again.
"I managed to avoid getting turned into a lab rat by the skin of my teeth," he says stiffly, staring ahead without quite looking at any of them. "But in exchanged I got turned into a dancing monkey, and the army and the government did their best to bury my Omega status."
His face twists and he looks away. "They couldn't have it getting out that Captain America, the symbol of hope in the free world, was an Omega, so any documentation of my status was hidden or destroyed and I wasn't allowed to go out in public before a suppressant was developed to hide my scent." His eyes grow distant again as he stares off to the side. "I don't know what they said to my friends and family," he admits quietly. "But it must of been significant, since nobody said anything, even after I died."
Natasha and Clint share a look and Tony crosses his legs uncomfortably. Everyone knows that Omega rights had been pretty limited before, but it still… it still isn't great to hear about the blatant statusism that had been in place, not even a hundred years ago.
Rogers seems to shake off his melancholy after a second, taking in a breath and turning back to them. "I probably would've stayed with the USO, dancing in tights for bonds for the rest of the war except…" He swallows and his hands are clasped tighter than ever in his lap. "Except… um." He swallows again. "Except that, Bucky got captured."
A complicated series of emotions flash through Rogers eyes and he looks down. "Bucky was, in the beginning he was a little shocked by the serum and…" His mouth twitches upwards a little. "He wasn't really impressed by how the military was handling my status. We'd always intended to reveal it after the war was over."
Tony's stomach drops into his toes as he gets to remember that not only is Barnes dead, he's dead dead, fell off a train and died in front of Rogers kind of dead.
The atmosphere in the room is decidedly somber, the scents in the room tinged with distress and sadness as Rogers' fingers curl up in his lap. "Very very few people knew I was an Omega," he says quietly, his eyes flickering up to meet Tony's for a second before looking back down. "The Commandos didn't even know so…" He swallows. "So I couldn't really be an Omega except around Bucky and… and it was… when he died it was…"
He presses his lips together and shakes his head, his hands shaking slightly in his lap. He swallows and opens and closes his mouth a few times, his shoulders stiff and tense in an effort to keep himself under control. He breathes in through his nose and looks over to Fury. "When I woke up here…" He says slowly. "I wasn't sure if anyone knew of my status… and then I wasn't sure how well that would go over given…" He shrugs. "Given how the military had reacted in the past."
He looks down at his lap and his cheeks heat a little. "I'd taken my suppressants right before my last mission," he explains, fiddling with his thumbs. "So they were still in my system when I woke up and…" He bites the inside of his cheek. "And everything was so… so much, waking up here that I…" His shoulders hunch slightly. "I kind of… forgot… that I needed them until… until they wore off and then…" His face reddens even further. "I hadn't had a heat for so long that… it kind of, made up for lost time I guess and, it was on top of me before I really knew what was happening."
Silence falls after that as everyone tries to digest what they'd just heard. Steve shifts uncomfortably. "So… so what happens now?" He asks, looking over at Fury.
Fury sits with his arms folded; his face deep in thought as he chews over the Captains story. He looks up and catches Steve's eye. "You wouldn't happen to know the secret formula to your suppressants, would you?" He drawls.
Something flickers across Rogers' face, too fast for Tony to read, before it hardens, and he clenches his jaw. "No," he says stiffly. "But I thought that I wouldn't be expected to hide my status anymore." His fingers clench. "I was told that things were different now—"
Fury holds up a hand, cutting off the beginnings of an angry rant. "I'm not suggesting we try to cover up your status indefinitely," he says placatingly. "But just because Omega rights have moved on, doesn't mean that everyone has, and revealing your status without a plan would be akin to painting a giant red target on your back for any half-competent villain who cares a little too much about statuses."
Rogers' lips press together in an unhappy line but he doesn't disagree.
"Most Omega's take suppressants anyways," Bruce says, speaking up for the first time. "There's ones that don't necessarily cover up your scent if you don't want, just allow you to regulate and control your heats and stuff."
Steve glances over to him and something flickers in his eyes. "Would they work with my serum?" He asks quietly.
"That'd be something we'd have to take into account," Fury cuts in, shifting a little on the couch. "And we'll have to think about how we'll reveal your status to the public, if you don't plan on keeping it quiet."
Steve swallows a little uneasily and his fingers grind together in his lap. "What… what would that do, exactly?" He asks, swallowing again and flickering his eyes to Tony for a second for some reason.
Fury shrugs and crosses his legs. "There'll be an outcry for sure," he says. "But we can work with you to find the best way to break it to them, and what to expect, etcetera…" He looks up and catches Rogers' eye. "If we swing it right, we might even be able to do some good with this," he says. "I'm sure there's plenty of Omega's rights groups that would be thrilled to receive an endorsement like this."
Steve nods slowly and seems to relax slightly. "But… not right away," he says a little dejectedly.
Fury shakes his head. "Safest bet would be to wait until we get some basic plan and suppressants in place before we go public," he says and Natasha nods along with him.
Steve's eyes follow Natasha's movements and he breathes in slowly, slouching a bit as he nods in agreement. "Okay," he says softly, before fixing Fury with a look. "But I refuse to be benched or shut up for long," he says tightly. "I'm done burying this thing, don't make me wait too long."
Fury nods decisively. "Deal."
oOo
SHIELD busies itself with ironing out the details about how to break Rogers' status to the world, (as well as snapping him up into grief counselling because it's only been a month for him since Bucky had died and the war had ended) and the Avengers do their best to settle into something resembling normal in the tower.
A date for the reveal is settled, and it's decided that Rogers will give an interview on the 1st of 'Omega History month' (watching the Captain's look of wonderment at the idea of a whole month devoted to the historical contributions of Omegas had been a treat to behold.) The interview is at least partially scripted and filmed through a respectable news outlet before being broadcasted, so they can keep it controlled as possible.
Tony watches the highlights later on.
"Omega rights were rather elementary in the 30s and 40s," a news lady states as she sits across from Rogers in a small room.
Rogers nods, looking calm and collected, nothing like the nervous Omega he'd been when he'd first revealed to them his status. "It was," he agrees before going on to explain some of the struggles Omega's had faced in his time.
The news lady nods along with him, before starting to go into the Omega rights movement of the 60s. "I hope you don't mind me mentioning how Captain America was often quoted as being very sympathetic towards Omega rights," she says, crossing her leg under her notepad. "There are several anecdotes of your dealings with Omegas that have been used throughout the years as examples of how Alphas ought to behave towards Omegas."
Rogers' mouth quirks up and he dips his head. "'What would Cap do?'" He quotes looking vaguely amused.
"Exactly." The hostess smiles at him. "However, there have been some critics that have claimed that it is the Omega's voice that is most important when deciding how an Alpha should act, and that looking towards Alpha figures only further buries the Omega. I'm curious what your opinion is for that."
Rogers shifts in his chair and looks thoughtful. "That is a very good point," he says. "And while I'm glad my name was able to be used for good, I think it's very important that Alphas take their cues for what is appropriate from Omegas themselves. An Alpha's voice should never hold more weight on an issue that they have never experienced."
He looks down at his hands for a second before looking back up again. "However," he says carefully. "I believe I have a… unique perspective in this case." The news lady is, of course, aware of what the Captain will be revealing in her interview, thanks to her contract, but she continues to project an air of polite interest as he prepares himself to deliver his story. "People have said that I'm a good example of how an Alpha ought to act," he starts off slowly. "But that isn't exactly true."
"What do you mean?" The hostess prompts.
Rogers offers her a small smile. "Because there's one major problem," he admits. "I'm not an Alpha."
Tony can almost imagine the waves of shock echoing across the American nation right about now.
"I was born an Omega," Rogers continues. "And I still am. But because of Omega restrictions in the 40s, I wasn't allowed to be Captain America unless my original status was kept hidden."
The interview then moves on to discuss some of the oppression he had faced before shifting to focus on the oppression and stereotypes that Omegas continue to face in the current day. "We can't pretend that statusism is a thing of the past," Rogers says, leaning forward. "I'm sure, as we will probably see from some people's reaction to my true status, Omegas are still viewed as 'lesser than', if only subconsciously."
"What would you say to anyone upset by your true status?" Asks the hostess.
Rogers leans back and shrugs his shoulder. "I'd ask them why they think being an Omega is worse than being an Alpha, and I'd ask them what is it that makes them think that an Omega would not have been able to do all the things that I did during the war."
"Are you worried that people aren't going to believe your true status?"
Rogers smiles slightly. "I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case," he says. "But I'm honestly surprised that this didn't come out before hand. I would've thought that it would've been unburied while I was in the ice." He looks to the side, his eyes slightly pensive. "I don't think I should have to prove my Omeganess to anyone," he says after a moment. "I've spent enough of my life hiding it, and I won't do it anymore." He looks back towards the hostess. "To anyone who doesn't believe that I'm an Omega, I'd ask them why exactly they don't want me to be one."
The news lady tilts her head and shifts forward a little. "What do you mean?" She asks curiously.
Rogers looks down at his hands for a second. "Captain America wasn't only used to promote Omega rights," he says, looking up. "He was also a symbol of peak Alpha ability and…" his mouth quirks. "I imagine some people will be upset that the Alpha they idolized is actually an Omega."
He shrugs an looks down at his hands again. "I'm also sure some people will think that perhaps I'm simply pretending to be an Omega for… whatever reason but…" He shrugs again and flashes the hostess a smile. "Besides releasing a doctor's report, I'm not prepared to offer any more… intimate proof."
The hostess smiles back. "Of course," she says easily. "And we have that report on our website for our viewers if they are interested," she says to the camera before she turns back to thank the Captain and wraps up the interview.
Well, at least that went well, Tony thinks, feeling slightly relieved. Although I'm sure the public and media reaction will still be rather volcanic.
AN: Please be advised, non-con themes are heavier in the next chapter.