Captain Murphy

The OSVU precinct was a hive of activity even at 3 AM. The dim fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow over the bustling bullpen, where officers shuffled files and barked into phones. A sense of urgency permeated the air, fueled by the never-ending battle against the exploitation of Omegas.

In Captain Murphy's office, the atmosphere was tense. Hicks and Ruger sat rigidly, their eyes fixed on the door. Hicks nursed a broken nose, his face a mottled canvas of purples and blues. Bruised ribs ached with every shallow breath, a harsh reminder of Murphy's discipline after their botched handling of the Regent raid.

The door flew open, and Murphy stormed in, his face contorted with fury. "YOU'RE BOTH FIRED!" The glass in the door rattled violently in its frame, the impact echoing through the bullpen. The door slammed against the back wall with a bone-jarring thud, rebounding violently. "I won't tolerate this kind of behavior from my officers, especially when it comes to Omegas."

Hicks flinched, the impact of Murphy's words hitting him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips under the weight of Murphy's glare.

"Captain, please—" Ruger began, but Murphy silenced him with a raised hand.

"Save it. I warned you both about treating Omegas with respect, but you crossed a line." Murphy's jaw clenched, his scar pulling taut.  "I gave you a direct order to handle those Omegas with care, and you blatantly disregarded it."

Hicks winced, the memory of the red headed Omega, Oliver, his terrified eyes flashing before him. "Captain, we were just trying to—"

Murphy's hand shot out, seizing Hicks by the collar with a grip like iron. With a swift, powerful motion, he propelled Hicks out of his chair and into the wall. The impact was so forceful that it dislodged a framed departmental citation, sending it crashing to the floor in a shower of broken glass.

"Just what? Assaulting Omegas? Harassing victims?" Murphy's voice sliced through the tension-filled air, his words steeped in a lethal calm that belied the fury simmering beneath the surface. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Hicks." Murphy's voice was laced with venom. "You backhanded an unarmed Omega, and Ruger, you stood by and did nothing."

Hicks, his face a mottled red from both exertion and embarrassment, snarled in defiance. "Those little bitches were—" But his retort was cut short, his words choked off by the unyielding pressure of Murphy's hand around his throat. The vehemence in his voice was undiminished, even as he struggled to draw breath under the Alpha's dominating hold.

Murphy's fist collided with the wall beside Hicks' head, the impact resonating through the room with a sound that was more than just plaster yielding to force.  "Those 'bitches' were terrified students who just watched their classmate herded like cattle into vans in the middle of the night. And you thought it'd be fun to rough them up?"

The captain's Alpha pheromones surged into the room like a tidal wave, an invisible yet potent force that clawed at the senses, heavy with the scent of fury and dominance. It was a primal assertion of power that demanded immediate submission, an unspoken command that was impossible to ignore. Every person within range found their gazes dropping, a reflexive response to the overwhelming presence of Murphy's Alpha authority. Even the most defiant among them felt the instinctual urge to avert their eyes, to yield, as the air grew thick with the weight of his wrath.

Ruger's voice faltered as he attempted talk, the words stumbling out of his mouth while he retreated a step from the formidable aura radiating off his captain. "Sir, protocol states-" he began, only to be cut off.

With a swift, furious motion, Murphy pivoted on his heel, his voice, when he spoke, was a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the room, weighing down the atmosphere with a palpable sense of danger.

"Protocol?" he echoed, his words laced with venom. "Protocol is to protect and serve. Not terrorize and assault. Or did you forget the oath you took when you joined this unit?" The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation, a stark reminder of the principles that underpinned their work at the Omega Special Victims Unit. It was a principle that Murphy, despite his fearsome demeanor, held sacred, and he expected no less from those who served under him.

He yanked open his desk drawer, pulled out a box. "Badges. Now."

"You can't-" 

"I can and I am. You're both fucking fired." Murphy held out his hand. "Badges. Gun. Everything."

Hicks ripped the badge from his chest, the metallic pin tearing through the fabric of his uniform. The shield caught the fluorescent light, a final gleam before he hurled it across Murphy's desk. It skidded across the surface, scattering papers and pens before clattering to the floor.

"Fuck you and your precious Omegas." A cruel smile twisted Hicks' features as he unbuckled his gun belt. "Some of us know what they're really good for."

The leather strap hit the desk with enough force to leave a mark on the polished wood. His hand brushed across the vacant space where his shield had rested, a bitter motion devoid of respect.

"You think you're so much better than the rest of us?" Hicks growled, his shoulders squared despite the overwhelming Alpha pheromones still flooding the room. "There are other employers who appreciate how I handle Omegas. Who understand what needs to be done."

"The Golden Collar's always hiring. Maybe I'll see you there, Captain." He spat the title like poison.

Ruger's hands trembled as he unclipped his badge, the metal cold and heavy in his palm. The overwhelming wave of Murphy's Alpha pheromones pressed down on him like a physical weight, forcing his shoulders to hunch and his head to bow. 

The badge scraped across the desk as Ruger placed it down, unable to meet Murphy's piercing gaze. His gun belt followed with a dull thud, the leather creaking as he set it beside the shield that had defined his career.

His eyes flicked up for just a moment, a fraction of a second that he instantly regretted. The look Murphy fixed him with could have frozen hell itself - pure, unfiltered contempt that promised consequences far beyond mere termination if Ruger dared to follow Hicks' defiant example.

Blood drained from Ruger's face as he stumbled back a step, then another, desperate to escape the suffocating presence of Murphy's fury. His retreat was anything but dignified - a far cry from Hicks' bold exit. But survival instinct overrode pride, sending him scurrying toward the door with his tail between his legs.

Murphy followed them out into the bullpen. "Someone show these pieces of shit the door. Make sure they clear their lockers." His voice carried across the suddenly silent room, the command unmistakable in both tone and intent.

After the spectacle, the bullpen fell into an eerie silence, punctuated only by the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant echo of city noise. Murphy returned to his office, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed the harsh judgment he'd just passed. 

He moved to his desk, sinking into the worn leather chair with a sigh that echoed through the empty room. His fingers traced over the rough edges of the badges Hicks and Ruger had left behind. The cool metal felt heavy in his hand, a tangible reminder of the oath they had so brazenly violated.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes closing as he tried to rein in his emotions. Anger still coursed through him like a raging river, but beneath it ran a deeper current of disappointment and regret. He had expected more from his officers, demanded more. Yet, they had failed not only him but also those they were sworn to protect.

Murphy's fingers curled around the badges, the sharp edges biting into his palm. He held them tight as if their weight could somehow anchor him amidst this storm of emotions. A deep breath filled his lungs, held for a long moment before it was released in a long exhale.

His gaze drifted across his office, settling on the wall lined with commendations and awards. Each one was a testament to hard-fought victories and tireless dedication - a legacy built on upholding justice and protecting Omegas.

But tonight's events cast a shadow over that legacy. His gaze darkened as he thought about Hicks and Ruger's actions - their blatant disregard for their duty, their disdain for Omegas.

Slowly unclenching his fist, Murphy dropped the badges into a drawer with a dismissive flick of his wrist. Out of sight but not out of mind - their tarnished shields would remain as reminders of this failure.