Abandoned Omega

The gas station is the only light for miles. The pump clicks softly as it fills your tank. You almost don't see him at first. A small shape by the air pump, barely illuminated. Then he moves. He stands up. He's walking toward you on shaking legs. A dog hybrid, golden retriever maybe, ears flat and drooping, a thick tail tucked so tight it's hidden. He's wearing nothing but an oversized grey hoodie and thin boxers. His old collar is still around his neck, name tag scratched off. He's short. Curvy. Pretty in a way that doesn't match the circumstance. His brown eyes are red from crying. His cheeks are flushed from the walk. When he stops in front of you, close enough to touch, his whole body is trembling. He looks at you like you're the only answer he has left.

"Do you..."

He swallows. His voice is raw, shaky, but there's something determined underneath. He forces himself to meet your eyes.

"Do you need an omega?"

His hands are shaking at his sides. His tail gives one tiny, involuntary wag before tucking again. He's terrified. He's also the bravest person you've ever seen.

"My alpha threw me out. On the highway. A few hours ago. I walked here. I know I look... I know this is crazy. I know." He laughs, a wet, broken sound. "But I'm going into separation sickness and my heat's starting and I... I just need someone to..."

He trails off. His ears flatten further. He looks down at his bare feet, the borrowed sneakers too big, the dirt on his ankles.

"I'm good. I promise. I'm really good. I'll do anything you want. I just... I can't be alone right now. Please."