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Teaching the Sun to Smile

Summary:

At a highway rest stop, Kenma finds a battered young omega with bright orange hair, trapped in an omega smuggling ring. After whisking him away from slavery, Kenma wants to help the boy heal. But with pieces of his past refusing to leave the omega be, Kenma finds himself and his family whisked into an investigation and rescue mission that may break them all.

Chapter 1: Run

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The slowing of the car pulled Kenma from his nap, but he couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed, as his thoughts were quickly consumed with the pressure in his bladder. He unfurled his stiff legs, causing a small avalanche of candy wrappers and soda cans as he stretched out in his seat. His movement startled the sleeping calico, who shot underneath the seat, eliciting a disgruntled sigh from Kuroo.

               Kenma blinked sleepily up at his alpha, “You know me so well.”

               “Yeah yeah,” Kuroo chuckled, ruffling Kenma’s hair, “You drank like six cans of that stuff, I was starting to worry that you were just going to piss yourself.”

               Kenma fished his hoodie out from under the pile of trash at his feet. “Such a doting alpha,” He teased.

               “Would you hurry up and pee? I’m gonna need your help to get the harness on Jiji.”

               “Kuroo,” Kenma slid out of the passenger door, “I refuse to believe that there is nothing psychologically wrong with a man who insists on walking his cat.”

               Through the cracked window Kenma could hear his alpha’s protests of, “She needs her exercise!” Kenma giggled softly, ducking his head into his oversized hoodie, although the rest stop was close to deserted, so there was really no one to conceal his delight from. But with his nose tucked into his hoodie, he felt enveloped with pheremones. His own scent mixed with Kuroo’s inspired a wave of confidence. Before bonding, Kenma had been so anxious that he would never dream of using any bathroom other than his own. If he had known how safe and untouchable being bonded would make him feel, if would have insisted on bonding with Kuroo during his first heat.

               The rest stop was nothing more than a decrepit playground, a covered area for vending machines, and a small brick building advertising bathrooms. Kenma resisted the urge to jog towards the facilities. He was uncomfortable from needing to pee, but he knew being out of breath would be even worse. He technically had two more hours of vacation, and he wasn’t going to spend it doing anything close to exercise.

               Kuroo worked a conventional job. The chemistry lab provided a stable salary, health insurance, and PTO was one request – placed six weeks in advance – away. Getting time off in Kenma’s line of work wasn’t quite as simple. Whenever his or Kuroo’s parents asked what he was “up to” nowadays, Kenma always shrugged gave some vaguely mumbled response about consulting for the police department. A quiet, unassuming title, deemed appropriate for an omega. Worried in-laws could form their own mental image of the perfect housewife, answering a few emails while preparing dinner for the dominant breadwinner to come home to.

               He had been lucky this time around. This particular vacation had been on the calendar for months in pencil, and miraculously, nothing had come up. Kenma’s laptop stayed packed away in the back of the car, no calls came through, and he had actually managed nine days of genuine relaxation on the beach with his Alpha.

               Kenma pushed open the door of the rest area and immediately stumbled back as though shoved. The smell in the lobby hit his nose like a wall, curling in his lungs like a toxin. He coughed gently, attempting clear his insides of the assaulting pheromones, and forced his body forward despite his instincts begging him to run. Alphas. Two of them, huge and menacing, sat on a bench on the far side of the room. Their scents filling the air with so much pressure, Kenma was surprised that the whole building didn’t explode.

               The alphas were angry.

               A female beta sat at the counter, pamphlets advertising different Tokyo attractions were displayed on the wall behind her. Kenma envied her obliviousness to the scents pounding at his skull, but could tell that she was still on edge from the men’s presence.

               “Um,” Kenma dug his fingernails into his palm, trying to gather his nerve, “I need the omega bathroom key.” It was all he could do to hold back a cough.

               She sized him up, “Go on ahead, there’s already someone in there.” Kenma resented the fact that she didn’t request his ID, but was also far too eager to leave the smell of these alphas behind him. He would take the smell of piss and disinfectant over this sensory assault any day.

               Only when the bathroom door thudded shut behind him was Kenma able to breathe. It was as if the pheromones had replaced as the oxygen in the lobby, and his head was still spinning as though he had held his head underwater for too long. Soaking in the scents wafting up from his hoodie, Kenma steadied his breathing and made his way into the first stall. Because the rest stop was segregated by secondary gender, there were no urinals available. He sat down to relieve himself, not trusting his shaking hands to allow him to aim properly. Plus if he sat, he could make some progress on his online chess game with Fukunaga.

               A muffled sniff echoed through the bathroom.

               Kenma almost dropped his phone in shock. He had forgotten, the woman had said there was someone already in here, how had he missed them? The only other stall had been open when he walked in. The uncertainty was making him sick to his stomach. What was going on in this place?

               Kenma secured his phone and pulled his pants back up, and as quietly as he could, eased the stall door open just enough to poke out his head.

               Kenma flinched back on instinct at the sight of the bathroom’s other occupant, but once he got past the initial shock, Kenma reasoned with himself that there was little to worry about. The other omega was smaller than him, younger too, by the looks of it, and rail thin. He stood against the wall, in the path of the door, so he had been blocked from view when Kenma entered. The boy was positively filthy, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shabby worn-out sweatpants, a tangled mop of bright orange hair peeking through the grime. If it was possible, he seemed to be shaking more than Kenma.

               Kenma’s immediate thought was that this was a homeless man, waiting until he was at his most vulnerable to get the jump on him. But that didn’t quite add up, omegas rarely carried anything of value, knowing they were easy targets, and that would do nothing to explain the fuming alphas outside. And moreover, why did this boy look more frightened of him?

               Kenma clutched the stall door, holding it as a barrier between himself and the boy.

               “Um,” Kenma gulped, “I don’t have any money.”

               The boy pressed himself flush with the wall. His voice came out with a squeak, barely pitched above a whisper, “Please help me.”

               Kenma’s stomach clenched, “Are you with those alphas out there?”

               The boy nodded.

               Kenma’s grip on the stall door loosened, “Are they hurting you?”

               The boy’s nod was barely perceptible.

Kenma sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself and control his nerves.

               He froze, took in another deep breath, this time though his nose, and then another. He scrutinized the boy in front of him. Something else was off. Why hadn’t he noticed the boy when he first walked in? Where was his scent?

               His anxiety crept back in, curling in his gut. He sized up the boy, surely someone this small was an omega, right?

               “Where is your scent?”

               “What?”

               “Why can’t I smell you? Are you working with those guys?” Kenma fumbled for his phone. What if those Alphas were already blocking the door? Would Kuroo be able to– 

               “Wait. Please.” The boy’s voice cracked. “I – I had a scent.” He straightened up, “I have a scent but… it’s just…” A trembling hand reached for the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it to the side to reveal his scent gland.

               Scars. Bite marks. Overlapping, one newly scabbed over, shiny ruts of skin marbling the boy’s neck and shoulder. There was hardly any unmarred space. His entire gland was obscured by the layers of thick skin. His lip trembled, and as the boy blinked, a single tear fell to the tiled floor.

Kenma felt a surge of anger pulse through his chest. He released the stall door and let it swing shut behind him, beholding the boy and his truly damaged state. His anxiety was washed away, overpowered by a strong wave of protectiveness. Someone had hurt this omega, poor defenseless omega, like him, but with no alpha to love and protect him. Kenma didn’t know where he’d be without Kuroo, but he knew he wouldn’t be happy, and certainly would never be safe. Omegas were so easily taken advantage of, it made Kenma sick. But he was always safe, he never had to worry about any of that because of his alpha.

               But who would worry about this boy?

               “Can I call the cops? Would that be alright?” Kenma approached the boy slowly, aware of how he shrunk back at his approach.

               The boy sniffed and shook his head, “The police would give me right back, they have the papers, I belong to them.”

               Kenma gulped, “Do you have anywhere you can go?”

               The ginger shook his head again.

               His mind was racing a million miles a minute, but he couldn’t focus with the rage that was pounding in his ears. What were those monsters doing to this boy?

               He whipped around, taking stock of what they had. There were two windows, one above each of the stalls. Small, and close to the ceiling, but even with how thin this boy was, Kenma doubted he would be able to get him up that high. There was a metal trash bin, but nothing else that could be picked up. Kenma would have to make do.

               He pulled his phone out of his hoodie, and clicked the center icon on his home screen, his speed dial for Kuroo.

               The phone rang three times, and the boy began to look more nervous by the second, “What are y–“

               Kuroo’s voice blasted out of the phone, “Kenma, you owe Jiji a huge apology, she’s absolutely terrified, I can’t get her–“

               “Kuroo, start the car.”

               Kuroo’s voice dropped an octave, “Kenma what’s going on? Do you need me to come–“

               Kenma cut him off again, trying to project assertiveness, “Start the car, stay put, I’ll be right there.” He hung up, praying to the gods that his alpha would for once in his life listen to him.

               The boy looked just as confused and Kuroo had sounded, “What are you going to do?”

               “Stay behind the door,” Kenma ordered.

               “What?”

               “Behind the door.” Kenma hefted up the metal trash bin onto his shoulder, towels spilled onto the floor as he spun to look at the boy, “Get ready to run. Red convertible. I’ll be right behind you.”

               Kenma nudged the stall door open with his hip. He carefully placed a foot onto the toilet seat, and grunted with the effort of hoisting up his own body plus the trash bin.

               The boy squeaked, “Won’t they hear?”

               “You’d better stay behind the door then.”

               Kenma took a deep breath, One shot Kenma, you only get one shot.

               He smashed the can through the window.

               Shouts immediately rang out from the lobby. Kenma heard the poor beta form the desk plead, “Wait, I can’t allow you to go in there.”

               One of the Alphas roared, “Shut up bitch!” And Kenma heard a soft thud. He ducked down, still balanced precariously on the toilet seat, as the door was flung open.

               “That little whore!” The Alpha’s scent alone almost knocked Kenma from his perch. “He went out the fucking window.”

               “Where’s that other little slut?” The stall door was ripped open, and the two alphas both surged at Kenma.

               Kenma swung the metal can, connecting squarely with the first alpha’s jaw. But the second one dodged his comrade’s falling body and fisted a handful of Kenma’s hair.

               “Kid run!” Kenma cried, stumbling as he was yanked to the floor, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as his scalp felt like it was lit on fire.

               The door creaked and then slammed. The alpha with a death grip on Kenma’s hair spun towards the noise. He considered his current prisoner, and abruptly hurled him headfirst at the floor. Kenma smashed down, narrowly missing the toilet with most of his fall broken by the unconscious alpha’s body. The door slammed again as the second alpha took off after the boy.

               Kenma’s head spun, and his vision was blurred, but he managed to drag himself to his feet. He stumbled out of the stall and hefted open the bathroom door. The beta woman was cowering behind the desk, but besides a cut across her eyebrow, she seemed okay. Kenma lurched forward, pushing the glass door open, gasping at the fresh air.

               He spun towards the sounds of shouts. The Alpha was closing in on the boy, roaring profanities and threats. And Kuroo, the idiot, was standing outside the car, eyes darting between the two men, searching for his omega.

               Kenma screeched, “Kuroo! Get the boy!”

               Kuroo’s eyes found Kenma, safe for the moment, and jumped into the car, yelling for the boy to climb in. Both doors slammed, and the car wheels screeched as Kuroo threw the convertible into reverse, narrowly dodging the second alpha lunging at the car. The car lurched as it was thrown into drive, and the engine roared as it came barreling towards Kenma at top speed. Kuroo slammed on the brakes, nearly sending the redhead through the front window. Kuroo reached across the kid’s lap, throwing open the door. Kenma nearly dove in head first, yelling for Kuroo to go.

               “What is going on!?” Kuroo spun the wheel violently, swinging the car back onto the highway.

               “Just drive.” Kenma gasped, his heart thudding violently against his ribcage.

               “Kenma–“

               “Kuroo please,” Kenma whined, “Just drive.”

               Kenma wriggled to the side, he was on top of the smaller omega, and he wasn’t quite convinced that he wouldn’t crush him. Luckily they were both small enough that they could fit side by side on the passenger seat. The boy’s breaths were coming in quick gasps now, close to hyperventilation.

               Kenma tried to emit some calming pheromones, but it wasn’t one of his stronger skill sets. He’d never had many friends, certainly none that would come to him for help in this kind of situation. He reached to stroke the ginger’s hair, like Kuroo would often do for him when he started to panic, but at the sight of the approaching hand, the boy flinched violently.

               Kenma floundered. They needed this boy to focus. They needed to know who was chasing them and why, so they could figure out how to help. If the boy dissolved into a panic attack, they might have to pull over, and then those alphas might catch up to them, and –

               “Both of you,” Kuroo’s voice boomed, shaking Kenma from his spiral, “Take a deep breath and hold it. Ten seconds.” At the sound of his alpha’s command, Kenma’s instincts took over, and his mind couldn’t help but blissfully obey. A command from his alpha. That’s all he needed to do. If he could listen and obey, then everything would be okay.

               He turned his head to check on the boy, there was still a wild panic in his eyes. Kuroo noticed as well, ordering the boy, “Again.”

               The boy repeated the breath, again and then again. And as his panic faded, tears began to flow freely down his face. Kenma reached for one of the boy’s clenched fists, slowly, so as not to startle him again. The boy looked up at the touch. In one move he wrapped his arms around Kenma’s neck, and released a strangled sob into his hoodie.

               “Thank you.”

               Kenma clutched onto the boy as though his life depended on it, and for the smaller boy, it was quite possible that it did. He rubbed circles on his back like his mother used to, gently, with just the tips of his fingers. Kuroo’s face radiated concern and confusion, but he kept his eyes on the road, racing to get them home.

Notes:

You ever been to a rest stop in the midwest, where they have posters all over the walls about what to do if you see or suspect human trafficking? Just a hint, it ain't whatever that was. Please call the police, or the hotline on those flyers. And please try to enjoy our boys and their adventure regardless.

Feel free to drop a kudos or leave a comment, let me know if you like what you see!