Lies and fire flies

Mike’s eyes snapped open. The damp chill that had clung to his skin evaporated. He pushed himself up against the headboard, the sheets cool against his back. His head felt clearer, the pounding ache finally subdued.

His phone, resting on the nightstand, vibrated softly. He snatched it up before the second buzz, his movements quick and furtive.

"Yeah." His voice rasped, low and urgent. He glanced instinctively at the closed door. "Couldn't risk it earlier. Too many eyes." A pause, listening intently. "No, he suspects nothing."

Silence stretched as Mike absorbed the caller's words, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite.

"Two hours works." He shifted, propping himself up straighter, swallowing. "I'll text the coordinates soon. Yeah, we'll be ready."

The floorboards in the hallway creaked softly. Mike stiffened, his knuckles white where he gripped the phone.

"Gotta go." His voice dropped further. "Just make sure the car's here. On time. And tell him... tell him it's all going according to plan." He ended the call abruptly, shoving the phone beneath his pillow just as tentative footsteps stopped outside his door.

The door eased open, revealing Alex's slender frame. Blonde hair haloed his head in the soft hall light, his brown eyes wide, scanning the room before settling on Mike.

"Mike?" Alex's voice was soft, hesitant. He entered slowly, approaching the bed like one might approach a wary animal. "Pete asked me to check on you. See if you needed anything." He drew closer, his natural Omega caregiver instincts kicking in, though a thread of caution remained in his posture. He reached out, pressing the back of his hand gently to Mike's forehead.

Mike flinched, almost imperceptibly, pulling back slightly against the headboard. A fine sheen of sweat dotted his upper lip, though the fever heat was gone. It wasn't illness making him sweat now.

"Your temperature's definitely down," Alex murmured, his gaze sharp, observant. He picked up the water glass and a clean rag from the nightstand. "That's good." He dipped the rag, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving Mike’s guarded face. "Must be a relief."

Mike just nodded tightly, avoiding the Omega's gaze.

Alex gently dabbed the cool cloth on Mike's forehead. "It’s just… strange," Alex began conversationally, but with an underlying edge of curiosity. "Regent. You said you were security there, right? For Brandon?"

"Head of security," Mike corrected automatically, his voice still rough. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. That's right."

"It's been hours now," Alex continued, his tone soft but persistent. He resoaked the cloth. "Since you arrived, I mean. You'd think someone from Regent would have called. Or shown up. Especially if one of their charges was injured and missing." He watched Mike carefully. "And Brandon's family... Have you been able to reach them?"

Mike’s jaw tightened. He forced a cough, buying a moment. He finally met Alex’s probing gaze, attempting a look of weary frustration. "Communications are… difficult right now," he said vaguely. "Things are chaotic back there. And Brandon's family... they live on the East Coast. Boston. Takes time." He waved a dismissive hand, trying to project nonchalance. "Regent has protocols. They'll handle it."

Alex’s brow furrowed slightly. "Chaotic? You made it sound like a simple attack. Some thugs trying to grab Omegas, you said? Enough that you caught a bullet." He paused, letting the silence hang. "Doesn't sound like something that would shut down communications for the entire school administration, or prevent them from tracking down their students."

Mike's throat felt dry. The story felt thin even as he told it. "It was... more complicated than I let on," he admitted, shifting uncomfortably. The stitches in his side pulled. "Didn't want to worry everyone when we'd just imposed on you." He tried to look grateful, vulnerable. "Look, Regent has some powerful enemies. People who might want to exploit the situation. Discretion is crucial right now, especially for Brandon's sake."

Alex stilled, the cloth resting on Mike's brow. "Powerful enemies? What kind of enemies?" His voice lost its caregiver softness, replaced by a sharper, more focused tone. "You said thugs. Now you're talking about powerful enemies and chaos? It doesn't quite add up."

Panic flickered in Mike’s eyes before he clamped down on it. He needed to regain control. He pushed Alex's hand away gently but firmly. "I'm tired, Alex. My head is still pounding." He let out a shaky breath. "The truth is, Brandon saw something he shouldn't have at Regent. Upset some very influential people."

"The 'attack' wasn't random. It was targeted. We barely got out." He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "His family hired me specifically because they feared something like this. They want him kept completely off the grid until they can arrange secure transport. Contacting Regent, contacting anyone officially right now, could put him in more danger. That's why I haven't made the calls. We don't know who at Regent might be compromised." He met Alex's gaze, trying to convey urgent sincerity. "I'm protecting him. It's my job."

Alex studied Mike’s face. The story was dramatic, convenient, and lacked verifiable details. Boston family, powerful enemies, targeted attack… it felt like a movie plot. But Mike was injured, and Brandon did seem withdrawn earlier. There was a sense of urgency around them. Alex wasn't entirely convinced, but the explanation, focusing on safety and secrecy, was plausible enough to make direct contradiction difficult. The mention of compromised staff at Regent resonated with a general distrust some packs had for large institutions.

The tension in Alex's shoulders didn't fully ease, but his confrontational edge softened fractionally. He didn't trust Mike, not fully, but he couldn't poke holes in the new story without more information.

"Okay," Alex said slowly, withdrawing the cloth. His scent, which had spiked with sharp distrust, muted slightly, though it didn't return to a fully relaxed state. "Okay. If he's in danger, then he's safest here for now." He straightened up. "Just... keep us informed. Pete needs to know what we're dealing with." The implication was clear: Your story better hold up.

"Of course," Mike said, relief washing over him, though he knew it was temporary. "And Alex? This stays between us, alright? For Brandon's safety."

Alex nodded stiffly. "Of course." He gave Mike one last searching look, then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Mike listened until Alex's footsteps faded down the hall. He let out a long, slow breath, his hand instinctively going to the phone under his pillow. That was closer than he liked. Alex was too observant. He needed to get Brandon out of here, fast, before the Omega started asking questions Brandon couldn't answer, or before Zack got any more attached.

Two hours. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, testing his weight. The pain was manageable. He needed to be ready.

Alex stepped from the house to the front porch. The sight before him made him pause - Brandon and Zack surrounded by excited children, their faces lit up with genuine joy.

"We need jars," one of the kids tugged at Brandon's borrowed plaid shirt.

"He's right," Zack grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. "Can't catch lightning bugs without proper equipment."

Alex cleared his throat, drawing their attention. His brown eyes roved between them landing on Brandon. "I just wanted to let you know I checked on Mike. His fever has broke."

Brandon's shoulders relaxed. "That's good news."

"Yeah." Alex shifted his weight. "Means you'll be able to leave soon. Get back to your fancy school." His eyes fixed on Brandon. "And to your family. I'm sure they must be worried sick about you."

The porch light cast harsh shadows across Brandon's face as he stiffened. His hands grabbed the long sleeves of the flannel that fell over his hands.

"I'm sure they are," Brandon's voice came out flat, controlled.

Alex's gaze lingered on Brandon for a moment longer before he stepped around them. His footsteps took him further into the yard where the pack gathered with mason jars and flashlights.

"Alex, come help with the kids!" Benny waved from the edge of the forest, his pregnant belly outlined by the lingering orange in the sky.

Alex jogged over to the group, accepting a glass jar from one of the children. The pack's excited chatter drifted up as they organized into small groups, flashlight beams dancing across the grass.

Brandon turned to Zack, his expression troubled as Alex's words hung in the air between them. He fidgeted with the too-long sleeves of Zack's flannel shirt, rolling them up nervously.

"I should check on Mike real quick," Brandon said softly. "Make sure he's really doing better."

Zack's eyes searched Brandon's face. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, it's okay." Brandon shook his head. "Save me a jar? I'll be right back."

Brandon slipped away from the warmth of Zack's presence and headed into the house. Each step felt heavier than the last. The sounds of laughter faded behind him as he climbed the stairs to Mike's room.

He knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Mike sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and looking remarkably recovered.

"You're up," Brandon observed, closing the door behind him.

Mike nodded. "Just got a call from Mrs. Sanders." He wiggled the cell in his hand.

Brandon froze. "Really? Everyone's okay?" A rush of hope to see Silas and Oliver again.

"Yeah." Mike's eyes darted to the window. "She's sending a car in two hours to pick us up. They've got a shelter set up for all the Omegas while things get sorted out. You should stay by the house and be ready."

Brandon’s breath hitched. Two hours.

A knot tightened. A countdown. Safety, or another familiar cage? Mrs. Sanders—her name tasted of ash, her heat rooms of sterile scent. Shelter felt hollow.

He nodded jerkily, skin tight, flannel suffocating. "Okay," a thin thread. His fingers clenched, dread coiling. It had to be right. He couldn't stay after Pete's revelation, the truth burning, threatening ruin.

"Brandon?" Mike’s voice sharpened. "You good?"

Brandon forced another nod. "Yeah. Just…it's so soon." He met Mike's gaze, neutral, hiding the fracture, the urge to run back to Zack.

This needs to happen. Cold comfort. An order, like Regent's, like Lex's.

"I'll be ready," he whispered, turning for the door. He needed air, away from Mike’s assessing gaze and a future not his choosing.

"Good," Mike said, reaching for his phone. "I need to make some calls. Go do whatever, but be ready."

Brandon backed out of the room, his chest tight with unspoken words. Through the front door, he could see fireflies beginning to blink in the gathering darkness, and Zack standing at the forest's edge, looking back toward the house.

Two hours. If that's all he had then he intended to savor every second of them with Zack.

Pete's voice boomed across the yard, "Alright everyone, gather 'round for the annual Harrison Bug Hunt!"

The excitement spread through the gathering crowd. Younger kids clung to their parents' legs while the older ones formed strategy groups, plotting the best hunting spots. The air hummed with anticipation and the sweet smell of wood smoke.

Zack, sensing a change since Brandon joined him, the Alpha reached for his hand. "We don't have to join the bug hunt, you know. We could just sit by the fire."

Brandon looked at Zack, his blue eyes sparkling in the porch light. He forced a smile onto his face and shook his head.

"No," he said, his voice light, betraying none of the turmoil. "You had me at bugs." He chuckled softly, an attempt lighten his mood. "If I did 'do' favorites the moth would be the number one 'bug'."

Zack's eyebrows lifted as they walked toward the gathering crowd. "A moth? Most people pick butterflies or ladybugs."

Brandon's eyes lit up, his conflict properly compartmentalized and shoved deep down. "Did you know that moths can detect a mate's pheromones from miles away? They have these incredible antennae that can pick up just a few molecules of scent." His fingers traced invisible patterns in the air. "Some species can detect a potential mate from up to seven miles away. Their whole bodies are basically built for finding the perfect match."

Zack stared at Brandon, fascinated both by the fact and the way Brandon's face had come alive while sharing it. The fireflies blinked around them, but Zack couldn't take his eyes off Brandon's animated expression.

"Seven miles?" Zack whistled low. "That's pretty impressive."

Brandon's eyes sparkled in the twilight as he warmed to his subject. "And their wings - they're not just for flying. The scales create these intricate patterns that help them blend in or stand out, depending on the species. Some moths even have false eyes on their wings to confuse predators."

Zack pressed a mason jar into Brandon's hands, mesmerized by the way those elegant fingers curled around the glass. The Omega's enthusiasm spilled out in animated gestures as he continued sharing moth facts, the white streak in his hair catching the fading sunlight. The pure joy radiating from Brandon made Zack's heart swell, drinking in every detail of the Omega's brightened expression.

"The Luna moth doesn't even eat," Brandon continued, examining the jar. "They emerge from their cocoons without mouths. They live solely to find their mate and reproduce. Their entire adult life spans just a week."

"That's kind of sad," Zack said, grabbing a flashlight from the supply table.

Brandon shook his head. "I think it's beautiful. They have this one perfect purpose, and they pursue it with everything they are." His voice softened. "Plus, they're this gorgeous mint green color with these long, sweeping tails on their wings."

"You really love moths, huh?" Zack couldn't help grinning at Brandon's enthusiasm.

"They're survivors." Brandon tested the lid of his jar. "Everyone loves butterflies, but moths? They do all the hard work at night when no one's watching. They pollinate flowers, they navigate by the stars and moon." He paused, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Don't apologize." Zack brushed his fingers against Brandon's arm. "I could listen to you talk about moths all night." Forever

Pete's voice cut through the gathering darkness. "Alright, everyone! Fireflies are waiting!"

The moment felt fleeting, precious - Brandon knew this would forever be special - this night - he wanted it to last. But even as he laughed along with Zack and joined in the pack's bug hunt, a part of him was already saying goodbye.