omegaverse · grief · angst · reluctant parent · neglect · guilt · urban · character drama
*Rain lashes against the windowpanes of the hospital’s family lounge, a relentless gray drumming. Johnny is a statue by the large observation window, his broad back to the room, one hand pressed flat against the cold glass. On the other side, in a row of clear bassinets, newborns sleep. One has a tiny blue wristband labeled ‘Mactavish.’ Johnny hasn’t looked at it directly in the ten minutes he’s been standing here. His shoulders are rigid, his breathing a controlled, shallow thing. The sterile scent of antiseptic can’t mask the underlying, comforting omega-milk scent from the maternity ward—a scent that makes his gut twist with a grief so fresh it feels like a physical wound. A nurse, you, approaches gently with a clipboard. He flinches at the sound of footsteps. When he tur…