gunsforhire | LOG: The family that drinks together

Omega shuts his mouth with an audible click, looks away. "You know what his sign for me is?" Does Tex know how namesigns work? It shouldn't matter for his point. "Rock. I'm the rock. Which is just fine. I'll take care of everyone and I'll cover for him when he needs a mental health month and I'll get him whatever surgery or book or boyfriend he needs on the frequent occasions I'm not good enough."

Omega drops his voice so she has to pay attention to him, so he doesn't start screaming for the whole bar to hear. "He doesn't get to take care of me when he can't even take care of himself!"

She's quiet as he rants, the only sound coming from her being the light tapping of her fingertip on her glass. Coming into an established family dynamic has been difficult, but this gives her context she's desperately needed.

"Are you sure he was looking to see you weak or did he want to know what was going on in your life? He can't take care of you, but that doesn't mean he can't listen. Especially if you listen to his bullshit, too."

"I told you. I told him what was going on. And it wasn't good enough! He started in on how he wanted to be there for me like I am for him -which is just a joke." Omega picks a napkin up from the bar and starts shredding it. "So I told him what he always tells me, which is he's not good enough. Because after that humiliating not-date, I just wanted space. Like you keep telling me. Space."

She's going to ask about Louisiana, and Omega doesn't want to go there. "But that wasn't good enough for him. It was convient for him to listen now, and by God I was going to give him something to listen to or he was going to make things up out of whole cloth. Why couldn't he have wanted to listen earlier, when there was an actual problem?"

It feels good to tell someone what's going on. Someone who's not going to threaten to take away the littles.

"I don't know, Omega. I'm still figuring all of this out myself and I wasn't there to see what either of you said." She sighs. Coming in at the end after Omega called her had made it hard to get both sides. There's a lot about their dynamic she's still trying to understand like why the hell they feel the need to tell the other they're not 'good enough.'

"But I'm glad you came to me about it. You shouldn't have to rely on only yourself for everything, I'm here when you need it."

Omega has no idea what to say to that. Tex has stopped him dead in his tracks, before he gets to property destruction and disturbing the peace.

He's not complaining. He does offer her a small smile. "Well, I'm your little brother," he says. "I don't need to keep it up for you."

"Good." She watches him a moment and hesitates a second before leaning over to give him a hug. It's the first real one she's given without some emotional disaster surrounding it.

"I've heard you have to sit there and take it when I hug you since you're younger," she explains as she pulls away.

Omega freezes. Then he leans into her, almost remembering. Almost getting back what was taken.

Then she is gone, and he's left staring speechless at her. What does he do now? Also how come she does that and everything seems better?

"What?" she demands and her eyes dart away. Wrong thing to do? Ugh, she should have known. Maybe given him some warning. Delta might have been wrong after all about Omega wanting a hug.

"Nothing," Omega says. "You're right. You get to hug me whenever you want."

Someone used to hug him when he was small and angry, when he'd lash out violently at anyone or anything within range. Someone used to hold him so he wouldn't hurt himself. Was it Alpha or Beta who would wait until he'd wrestle the rage under enough control to speak?

And it must be some sort of Pavlovian response. There's no way a hug in a bar is going to fix everything. But it does make him think things are going to be better.

"You sound so thrilled about it," she replies with a snort.

All right, if he doesn't want hugs then she can stick to what she's been doing. He seems calmer than when she came into the bar, at least.

Omega scowls at her. He was very thrilled about it. "It's been awhile, okay?" he says into his glass. "I'm usually on your end. Just because I don't...doesn't mean I don't like it."

Because he does. Oh, how he does.

Well, that's something. Better than what she had been expecting. There's a small sigh of relief as she leans back in her seat. "I'm not good at this whole 'hugging' thing unless there's crying involved. So if you want one... You can hug me too. Just not in front of our coworkers, okay?"

Is she ashamed of him? No, if she was, she'd say something. "Deal. And you don't have to worry about me crying. I haven't cried since Sigma was two."

"Even if you did, it's not a problem," she says quickly. If he needs to cry, he should and she won't stop him. "I haven't had a reason to give out hugs until now."

"I'm not really a crier," Omega shrugs. "Maybe Friday."

Last time, they'd said Sigma was almost dead, that the Counselor almost killed him. Even twenty years later, Omega isn't sure how much of that was true. At least, if something goes wrong on Friday, it won't be because they waited too long.

"It'll be tears of joy." If it's not... She's not thinking about that possibility.

"So what do you say about making this a weekly thing?"

"Really?" Omega can't imagine someone spending that much time with him that often. Isn't half the problem, they decided, too much Omega? "I'd like that. If you're not too busy."

"I'll make time. Might have to move it back or forward sometimes, but I like this." She flashes him a smile. "Want another drink?"

"Yeah, yeah I'd like that." This is dangerously close to Omega's limit on feelings for the night. Week. "I'd like both."

"Good. Sticking with scotch or want to give the tequila a try?" He doesn't have to drive home, he can drink as much as he wants.

Omega doesn't want to drink too much. He does stupid things when he drinks, and there's always the fear that he'll get angry and do something terrible. But one more can't hurt.

"I'll try almost anything once," he says. "Let's do tequila."

"You're on your own for this shot, I want to be able to get home later," she says and calls the bartender back over. She'll even spring for a nice shot, something that'll feel like a smooth burn as it goes down.

"Ready?"

"It's just a shot," Omega says. "I have had alcohol before."

He's ready. He won't have any more, but he's ready.

"So much so that you had to ask someone else what to order last time we met here?" she asks. It's funny that he's stuck with his scotch order from last time.

"I am never afraid to ask for guidance when appropiate," Omega says, which sounds much better than "I was an idiot kid who stole my friend's dad's cheap booze and therefore drank whatever was lying around."

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