It's a Crying Shame to Wake Up Just to Find It's All been Broke in Two
"Nothing gives more yet asks less in return, than a tree; particularly the apple." --Jonathan Chapman
The Omega's silence was worse than his hatred.
Bucky couldn't blame him, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
Peter was unusually quiet. He could sense their tense emotions, but he did not understand it.
In his mind, they were safe from their captors. So, why weren't they happy?
"Da, are we going home?" Peter asked.
Bucky nodded.
"I-Is Hota coming with us?"
"Yeah, bud." Bucky patted his head.
Peter grinned up at him. "I like Hota!"
Bucky tried to smile.
Peter tugged on Hota's hand. "Are you sad?"
"Peter!" Bucky started scolding him, but Hota glared at him.
He held Peter's hand. "No, I am not. I held little affection for my tribe."
"But you're not happy?" Peter frowned. "My daddy's a good Alpha! And I like you very much!"
"Life is not so simple," Hota said.
But it could be, Bucky thought.
The chief had said they were soul bound.
He'd heard rumors of two mates whose souls were knit together, but he'd thought they were just that, stories. But he could feel Hota's barb-wired heart; he could feel Hota's rage burning like a wildfire.
Hota would cut him; Hota would burn him.
And Bucky wanted nothing more.
"Are you my Oma now?" Peter asked.
Bucky knew that Peter did not mean to offend.
He simply didn't understand what was going on.
Hota tensed. "I suppose that's up to your father."
Peter turned to Bucky with his puppy eyes. "Please, Da!"
Bucky sighed. "T-That's probably what we'll do."
Hota glared at him.
"It wouldn't be d-decent for Hota to just live with us." Bucky's voice was soft.
"Why not?" Peter asked frowning.
"Society's not kind to unmated Omegas," Hota said bitterly.
"You don't have to," Bucky tried.
"Don't have much of a choice," Hota growled.
Neither of them had much of a choice.
Bucky couldn't abandon the Omega.
It went against every bone in his body.
The Omega was legally bound to him.
Perhaps, even soul bound.
"D-Do you want to stay Hota?" Bucky asked.
Hota glared at him. "Do I have a choice?"
"Yes," Bucky whispered. "It's your name."
"No, it's not!" Hota--not Hota snarled.
Peter whined.
"T-Then what's your name?" Bucky asked.
"My name's Steve."
***
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