"No more so than if you were leaving to go to the shops or go to any other job. I don't love you leaving, but I like what happens when you come back. As long as your pants stay on when you're away, and you shower after and I get to rub myself all over you when you're done, I'm pretty good. It's been surprisingly fun, actually, getting to be all growly and claimy. But—only because I know you guys actually, like, want that."
He chuckles softly again. "Frankly, I think you came along at just the right time. I think Zeke was about two heats away from breaking, and I don't think Seb was too far behind. Anyway, we've cancelled all our heat support bookings, of course. Except…"
I lift my head off his chest. "Except?"
He sighs again. "I wanted to clear it with you first, before I talk to the others. There's one booking request… there's this pack back in New York. They're complete. They can do all theactualheat support themselves, but they need… other support. Practical, logistical support—one of the alphas has a bad back, one has PTSD and one has ADHD. And I'm pretty sure the poor beta has some trauma from their last attempt at a heat. What we're doing for Lauren… would you be okay if we did it for other packs?"
There's an uncomfortable silence as I bite my lip and pull myself up. "Okay. Firstly," I murmur, "thank you for talking to me about this. Secondly, I think this is something we should probably discuss together, all six of us, not just you and me, yeah?"
Allen looks away. I gently turn his face towards me. "I'm not pissed. Just… let's all talk together next time?"
He nods, quietly.
"And, for the record, I think it's a great idea," I mutter, snuggling back down in his chest. "So long as I get to rub myself all over you when you come back home. Do a proper reclaiming,if necessary. Uh… and money wise—um, I don't expect you to support me, or anything, and I have a really decent salary, and I've got a bit saved up, but it just isn't the same as what you're used to earning, and I know you're worried—"
He taps a finger on my lips, breaking my increasingly panicking ramble. Allen smiles at me, then sighs again. "It's not what we used to charge, obviously, but… look. One of the first things you asked me was 'who supports us?' and I couldn't answer it. I hate not being able to answer questions. And it got me thinking… it kind of applies to all heat support packs, doesn't it? It's been… honestly, kind of healing, to see another pack getting the support they need while they do what everyone needs them to do? I know that the warm fuzzies won't pay the bills, not if there's no real market for it, but…"
There's a… I don't quite know how to describe it. It's a longing and a regret and a yearning and a hope, all mixed in one. His bond is lit up with it.
A little sigh slips out as I snuggle into him. "They always warn us about how to spot dodgy heat support packs. I don't think anyone's really talked about how thegoodheat support packs are being set up to be taken advantage of or getting burned out." I scratch my head. "I wonder how many heat support packs have gone through the … same… thing…"
A shiver courses over me. I sit up, my mind running on overdrive.
"Are you okay, little star?" I can feel his concern in the bond.
I leap out of the nest and rush to the kitchen bench, grabbing my phone, my fingers moving at warp speed.
"Allen," I mutter, my fingers flashing wildly around the phone as I continue to type, "what if… what if therewassomething that we could do about it?"
It's Saturday, three days since my late-night flash of inspiration. Three days of squatting in Loz's Annex while she, as she calls it "gets the fuck pampered out of her"—or what anyone else would call the bare minimum of aftercare. Three days of Ralph telling me about what it was like getting kicked out of nests, while helping me with business plans and helping work out funding options. James talking me through practicalities and helping me understand sex-related injury patterns. Seb explaining weird medical terms I've never heard of. Zeke sharing his stories of what it was like trying to help through a heat while he was injured himself. Allen helping me understand the realities of heat support and the psychological risks that come with it, while pacing around like someone both terrified and exhilarated by what he sees around the corner.
I even managed to squeeze in a phone call to Trix; and my big sister, for once, has agreed to put her money where her mouth is and help.
And Trix does what she does best—shedigs. She finds the horror stories about dodgy support packs, not the kind you find onHeatseekers, but the kind of packs omegas use because they can't afford to get on the app, packs who treat omegas in heat like sex isn't only something that they need, but something that they owe. There are too many stories of it being… taken, when it isn't offered freely. Too many stories of omegas disappearing with the pack they called in to support their heat. My stomach clenches with fear every time I think about them. How close I might have come to becoming someone else's cautionary tale.
And for the good packs, the ones who keep reliably supporting omegas through their heats—for what issupposedto be an elite career, the conditions seem… frankly, pretty ordinary. While the packs who make it ontoHeatseekersdo okay, for those who haven't made it there yet, it seems pretty friggingrough. A lot of new packs are treated like glorified knot delivery systems or pheromones on tap.
Burnout seems to be a real thing. There are no real off-ramps out of the career. No workers' compensation. The constant risk of STIs and accidental bonding. There aren't even any standards to protect workers or omegas outside of the clinic environment. And if you're not the best… the going rates make it technically liveable, but there is no downtime. No respite. No chance for them to be anything but a carer.
These people are university educated. The best in their field. They actuallycare. And they seem to be getting chewed up and spat out for wanting to help omegas.
Who supports the supporters?
… nobody does. Not really. At least, notyet. Butsomeoneneeds to. More than just one pack at a time.
And maybe, just maybe, someone can. Someone might be able to make things less crappy for the heat supporters, the omegas they support, and the people who don't know any better who idolize them. Andnobodyhas the right answers yet—but someone needs to start asking the difficult questions.
Even if those questions aren't perfectly worded.
"So," Loz says, drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch, "you're telling me that youdowant to take on the MD role of my heat support research charity, the one where I had visions of researching ways to build some lovely affordable heat hotels for low-income omegas, maybe design some new heat-appropriate sex toys… but make it focus on research for developing global standards and guidelines for sustainable heatsupport work?"
I nod. "Yep. And—" I pull up my notes from my phone, clearing my throat, "investigating best practices for minimum training requirements for heat supporters, getting coveragefor heat support included in health insurance, and a trial to check how accessible support for heat supporters affects rates of injury, burnout, and STI acquisition. Oh, and workers' compensation coverage for heat-acquired injury treatment, unintended bond removal, and STI treatment. Uh. To start with. It's not a full solution yet, of course."
There's a slightly skeptical expression plastered on Loz's face. "Fuckin' oath, Dellie. That's… a lot." She blinks a few times.
I let my phone drop into my lap. I take a deep breath. "Loz—thisis how we support omegas.Allomegas. Pack Zed havealreadyshown everyone that sex with horny omegas isn't a 'perk' of heat support, but a form of care, and the people who are employed to do it generally aren't getting any more out of it than any other carer gets out of caring for their clients. Omegas don'towesex. They shouldn't have to have it if they don't want it. But the way that so many heat support workers are treated implies that sex is part of their compensation. If the packs aren't onHeatseekers, their pay and conditions are set up as though their compensation isn't just financial. Andthat'show you end up with the horror stories."
I glance at Zander, who's leaning against the wall of the lounge next to the rest of his pack. He nods.
