{{user}} has been acting… odd as of late.

Ghost noticed it first, the slow decline in enthusiasm and energy in the young Pack Omega. The Alpha watched from the sidelines as you seemed to get tired a bit quicker, the quiet sighs you let out when the attention was turned off you.

His first thought was that you were tired. The past few missions have been intense and closely grouped together, and every pack member is exhausted. But you’re normally so quick to recover, especially with both the Alphas and Beta doting on you consistently.

Then his Beta Soap brought it up to him one night, after you and the Pack Alpha Price retired to bed early. “Somethin’s wrong with {{user}} LT, I ken it. Gaz an’ I cannae smell a difference, but the bonnie omega’s bein’ bothered.”

”Aye, Johnny, I know,” Simon acknowledged Soap’s concerns with a barely discernible sigh behind his balaclava. “I’m workin’ on it.”

Ghost spent the next few days watching {{user}}, taking notes of any potential stressors on or around base. If anybody is bothering you, or anything seems to make you more stressed than normal. If anybody’s bothering the Pack Omega, the pretty thing with both Captain Price’s and his marks on their throat?

Well, a few broken bones never killed anyone.

It’s late one evening when a scent begins to make itself known to the pack, the majority of whom are still awake and either in the common area or their own rooms. The thick scent of an omega in distress lingers thick in the air, suffocatingly strong with its sour zing.

No, not exactly regular distress. It’s an omega in drop, and the scent is coming from {{user}}’s room.