Work Text
Six weeks' rotation in Endocrinology. Bonded alphas so mad with possessiveness that they could not bear to be apart from their omegas for more than a few moments, or suffering from priapism that inevitably became the talk of the hospital; in the adjoining ward, separated by a wide hallway and a mandatory scent scrub with water, carbolic and tea tree oil, omegas with permanent heats so severe that they had been put on intravenous drips for dehydration. It was barely two decades ago now that the relevant hormones to treat these cases had been isolated; before that, difficult to imagine in the modern Forties, these patients would inevitably have been condemned to insanity or death. Though the medicine was interesting, Alec had found himself wishing long before the six weeks were out that all alphas and omegas might go to the devil. But then he had wished that for years. He was a beta.One might think that a surgical rotation would offer some respite from this endless parade - but one would only think that if one had no experience of hospitals."Give the history, please," said Miss Mansell, the neurosurgical registrar, scrubbing up briskly in the anaesthesia room."Male alpha, aged thirty-five," said Alec, cultivating the air of bored efficiency that he felt best suited a young house surgeon. "Drinking in a pub when he met an unbonded omega who was just coming into heat. Unluckily for him there was another alpha who fancied her chances too. They got into an argument and, when his back was turned, the other alpha hit him in the head with a snooker cue. Serious fractures of the skull.""The usual story. You would think that an omega would know his cycles and be more sensible than that, wouldn't you? Oughtn't to have gone out if he thought he was about to go into heat."Alec made politic noises of assent but his mind was elsewhere. Being a beta himself, he did not give a damn either way, but one could hardly say so. He had fucked a good few omegas in his time, though, and without the excuse of any specific hormonal susceptibility."Anyway," Miss Mansell continued, holding out her hands for the nurse to drape her with the surgical gown, "I imagine you would rather be in the other theatre today. Urology had an emergency case. Priapism, too well established for the drugs to be effective. Came on in flagrante." "It would," said Alec dryly.Miss Mansell laughed. "So they're going to attempt a surgical separation; I've never seen it done successfully myself. Rather more interesting than the usual round of rectal D&Cs."It took no more than a basic understanding of anatomy to understand that an omega would inevitably come off the worse in the surgery, even if surgeons - alphas almost to a woman and man - had not been notoriously reluctant to sacrifice any knot that could possibly be saved. "I just came across a study in Lancet the other day," said Alec. "Aren't the survival rates for omegas something like 30% nowadays?""In a good hospital, I should hope so. Besides, Ossie's pride is at stake. And David's. He's assisting."David was the urological registrar. An alpha, of course, and according to hospital gossip the former lover of Hilary Mansell. Gossip had been more acute in this case than most, due to the fact that both were alphas. Even in the tolerant, bohemian atmosphere of a hospital the relationship had been considered rather daring, and speculation - which continued to this day - had run rampant over who played the alpha behind closed doors.There was no doubt about that, or so went the hospital gossip. It had been Hilary Mansell, without question. Most of the hospital said that David had ended the relationship because of it. The rest said, probably more sensibly, that what one could forgive in two young house surgeons was less forgivable in members of the Royal College seeking permanent appointments, and that Hilary and David had known this better than anyone.Alec himself preferred to reserve judgment; for he, more than most, understood that what went on behind closed doors did not always correspond to common knowledge. Hilary Mansell, a surgeon of acknowledged brilliance, had since made an irreproachable bond with a beautiful, charming, rather dim omega, years younger, whose only eccentricity was in having worked - before, very properly, giving up his career upon marriage - as an actor rather than as a nurse. Nonetheless Alec felt that her past gave her a certain air of sympathy, an understanding of what it meant to live outside the normal rules of society.He had not been the only beta in his medical school; thanks to Sandy Reid, he was not even the only beta amongst this year's crop of housemen. But he was still one of a very few, and had cause to be grateful to Miss Mansell for her matter-of-fact, undramatic tolerance.He had heard one too many times the old saw that intellectual penetration was what a surgeon wanted above all else; it was inevitably followed by the observation that omegas wanted penetration even more. Had it been funny the first time? Alec felt it would probably take an archaeologist to find out.***"Don't let them give you a grievance against society," Ralph had advised, back when they had discussed these things more openly."Give me?" Alec had echoed. "I was born with it. So were you.""It's not the same. You're ninety percent normal.""If you mean I haven't needed a friend to steal heat suppressants from the hospital on my behalf, then I suppose so. But that's a damn restrictive definition of 'normal,' if you don't mind my saying.""It's what you make of it," said Ralph.Ralph had made a great deal. A late blooming omega, he had become Head of School on the strength of his efforts - and then, once his nature became clear, been expelled for perversion. Alec suspected that, had Ralph not been an omega, the whole affair would have been dismissed under the heading of 'alphas will be alphas,' but Ralph had accepted the punishment as his due. After being expelled from school, as a young omega below decks in the merchant marine, he had found himself expected to play a very different role. Preservation being the better part of valour he had soon decided that the only solution was to pass as an alpha."If you don't want to get me the pills," Ralph added, "you've only to say.""That's not it at all," said Alec. It was no wonder that Ralph had rejected the place which society had prepared; dependence was no part of his nature, and yet it was all that had been offered him. By contrast Alec's grievance - indiscriminate tastes combined with what, in a beta, was considered a wildly unnatural appetite - seemed mild."I never understood why you didn't just tell people you were a beta," said Alec. "It would be simpler.""Would it? I don't think so. Why don't you tell people you're an alpha, come to that?""Because I'd rather not pretend to be something I'm not. Not to mention that I'd like to think what I like to do in the bedroom has nothing to do with my career.""You've always been an optimist," said Ralph. "One has to live in the real world."Together Ralph and Alec had explored most of the permutations of the Greek alphabet, not to mention a few variants never mentioned in the texts. But it was to this conversation that Alec, in the following years, dated the end of their relationship.***"Hold that retractor steady," Miss Mansell was saying sharply. "Further back. And keep your hand out of my light."Unlike other surgeons he had known, she never cursed her assistants or threw her instruments on the floor in a fit of temper. She only expected to be obeyed, promptly and completely. In theatre one could hardly object to this, and when in logical mood Alec never did. But he had seen enough irrationality in one day - let alone in the six years of his medical training - to have become irrationally annoyed by it himself. And this irked him even more.He followed her commands to the letter, standing as still as he could and ignoring the itch in his nose that had been tormenting him for the past ten minutes.On other days he would have been fascinated by the delicate dance that was unfolding in front of him, as she removed small fragments of bone and pieced together the badly lacerated scalp. Her concentration was intense; a curl of chestnut hair had escaped her surgical cap but she did not seem to notice.Oddly enough, given the perverse strength and breadth of his sexual interests, women never usually seemed to catch his attention. Perhaps there was something in it but Alec, having had enough to think about coming to terms with his orientation, had never questioned the fact in any depth. If he were to make an exception for anyone it would be Hilary Mansell - but then he, a presumed-sexless beta, would hardly be to her taste.Besides, the only reason that he was in the middle of theatre considering having sex with the neurosurgical registrar was that he was in the middle of a dry spell. Several days at least. There would have been Sandy - there was always Sandy, that was part of his appeal - but they had been on different shifts this week and the whole thing was rapidly becoming intolerable. He would have to..."Deacon, are you listening?""Sorry, Miss Mansell," said Alec. "I'll hold it steadier.""No, it's fine." She sounded almost as impatient when telling him that he had done nothing wrong. But then she was a registrar, and an alpha, and they were like that. "I was only saying that Scot-Hallard will be covering for me next week. I'm on leave; Julian's heat, you know.""I know." Of course he knew that. Everyone knew that. It had been in the schedule on the common room wall for weeks; why did alphas always insist on the whole hospital knowing when their omegas were in heat?"Enjoy your leave," Alec added, because it was the thing to say.The theatre nurse contributed an old, ribald and much-loved joke, of the kind also traditionally made on these occasions - but then she, another alpha, could indulge in that sort of thing, whereas Alec could not. Miss Mansell laughed appreciatively.If *I* could go on sex leave... thought Alec in exasperation. But there was no point in wishing, for it would never happen, and he prided himself more than anything upon his ability to understand - if not accept - the world as it was. He blinked, wrinkled his nose a little bit in a vain attempt to mitigate the itch, and carried on holding the retractor.