Factory Pharm

Amy awoke to an empty apartment. A quiet hollowness filled her as she stood in the doorway of Sonic’s room, holding the malformed plushy, like she was standing in the liminal space of a widespread disaster after everyone else had already left. She couldn’t go back, but how could she go forward?

Placing the plushy on Sonic’s quill infested pillow, she went to make herself some breakfast.

The morning was old and a Sunday silence gripped her with an almost sacred air. She’d missed her appointment with a sacrificial altar last night and devotees of her cruel reality would be out in search of her. Hell to pay and whatnot, but, first, pancakes.

Working the whisk, she texted Sonic. I’m sorry. Can we talk? Amy was dying to know where he was, but her curiosity was a morbid one. She had no right to any of Sonic’s confidence, not after what she’d done…or, rather, failed to do.

How could she have messed up so badly? All Amy had to have done was open her stupid mouth and tell Sonic she was seeing someone, er, someone different than she’d told him. And, yeah, she fucked up, but did he really have to go after Shadow like that? It was no wonder that Shadow lost his…no, she couldn’t give Shadow a pass either. Sonic could be an annoying asshole, but did Shadow really have to start a fight?

Amy frowned and flipped a quickly browning pancake.

I am dangerous, he’d told her. Admitted to her. Confirmed his brother’s words. I am dangerous…But I don’t want to be.

Amy sighed and shook her head.

As she ate her breakfast and dreaded waited for Sonic’s reply, Amy perused her other messages. Shadow had already sent a few texts asking about how she was feeling and informing her of the arrangements he’d made for her to see a doctor that day. As much as Amy didn’t like being told, she had promised. Maybe she needed to be told sometimes…

Shadow also passed along the contact info for his driver, Mr. Bruno. Both hedgehogs had been beyond exhausted the night prior, leading to a truncated conversation after Sonic had retired to his room, but Shadow had been emphatic that she was to see a doctor first thing the next morning.

Amy couldn’t really argue. Once she was fed, clean, and dressed, she texted Mr. Bruno that she was ready. To her embarrassment, he replied immediately that he was waiting outside her apartment. How long had he been waiting? If Amy had known, she would have gotten herself together much quicker!

Donning a scent mask and obscuring hoodie, she rushed out the door and apologized profusely for making him wait. The older bear was jovial about the whole situation and insisted she just call him Bruno. He held the door open for her, and she presently found herself back in the same town car as the previous night, but freshly cleaned and distinctly lacking in aromatic traces.

Once moving, Amy gave Shadow an update. On my way! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️. Shadow answered quickly with his regrets that he would be rather busy today, but, should she require him, he would make every effort to break away to be with her. Amy grinned. She could perfectly imagine his voice as she read his text. She’d grown fond of his clearly pronounced bougie diction. Amy maintained no doubt that Sonic would take to mocking Shadow’s accent the minute he calmed down…if not sooner.

She snickered softly at the prospect before her mirth dissolved. Would Sonic and Shadow ever be okay with one another? She’d love for them to be friends…but that wasn’t really up to her.

…Not with that attitude it wasn’t. She grinned again. Amy amused herself imagining some silly scenarios where she contrived to force her boys to play nice, like she was a nosy neighbor in a romantic comedy.

After a few minutes, reality settled back in. It was a fine little vacation from the matter at hand.

Head back in the game, Amy resolved to endure whatever the day held in store for her without asking Shadow to divert from his work. As much as she missed his lips on hers or his whispered honeyed words in her ear, the world was bigger than the circle of their embrace. She’d been to plenty of clinics alone. What was one more?

Besides, Amy had her own work to focus on. Tomorrow she would start with Rouge fulltime, and she had no idea what the ambitious bat would want of her…another facet of Amy’s life that really could use a little more brain power ascribed to it. She had a sinking suspicion that she might find herself at the wrong end of a camera.

Her phone chimed, drawing her attention. A reply from Sonic!

still pissed need time

More than fair, Amy thought. Ok, she replied, I’ll be here when you are ready.

k

Amy stared at the short message and bit her thumb through her glove. This was a good sign, right? He was talking to her. Of course he needed time to think. A lot had happened and it was all Amy’s fault. As much as she desperately wanted to rewind time and correct her grave mistakes, she couldn’t. What she could do was apologize and try to be better.

Don’t apologize. Just do better. Rouge’s words echoed back to her. Hard advice to fully follow. I’m sorry seemed to be inscribed to Amy’s DNA. And doing better started with learning exactly how much shit she was in. Begrudgingly, she opened her phone’s browser.

The Harvest Festival Rut-Riot was all over the news and social media. Her hands shaking a bit, Amy swallowed and brought up a trending article. Furtively, her eyes graced the first paragraph. She frowned, confusion pinching her brow. Scrolling quickly now, she devoured the story.

A rut-riot broke out at the Harvest Festival last night during the fireworks presentation. The sudden brawl destroyed a number of vendor stands before police could dispel the violence with pacification gas. After the dust settled, fifteen festival goers sustained severe enough injuries to be transported to City General. Many of the Alphas partaking in the riot remain in police custody today, but the inciting Omega is still at large. Eyewitness accounts describe the Omega as an echidna with rosy coloration and metallic quill ornamentation. If you have any information regarding the fugitive Omega or the riot @ us on social media! Breeze Media, the truth is on the wind!

That couldn’t be right. She opened a second article and found the same. Firsthand reports describe a dark-fuchsia hedgehog with punk-styled quills. Had her luck held for once in her life? Had the chaos been so distracting that no one had gotten a proper look at her? What about the Alphas who had tried to grab her? Just the thought of their firm hands and looming faces sent a shiver coursing through Amy. Surely, they’d have told the police about her.

I hope they never find them, the top comment on an article read. Blaming Omegas for riots is stupid AF. It had been liked hundreds of times. Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming? What was even happening right now?

A clip of an old episode of a late-night comedy show (the exhaustively titled What’s Wrong With The World This Week Tonight with Remy L'Olivier) was being shared thousands of times. Eager for a little levity, Amy turned her volume off and subtitles on before hitting play.

A poorly aging gray rat in an ill-fitting suit sat behind a mock news desk with graphics appearing to his right while he talked. “Moving on to our main story tonight…Rut Riots. What are they? How do they happen? Who’s to blame? And how can we stop them?”

This is a comedy show? Amy wondered.

What proceeded was a strangely informative deep dive into the subject interspersed with just enough dry humor and self-deprecating jokes to qualify as technically funny. Though a good way to while away the car ride into the City proper, the succinct explanation left Amy feeling depressed. She had been surprised just how sensitive Alphas could be to Omega heat pheromones and the bit about Alpha incarceration rates really put City v. Wolfe in a new perspective. Was this show what ‘infotainment’ was?

“So, what do we do?” Remy began to wrap up the segment.

“Some, like mayoral candidate Geoffrey St. John-” a picture of the skunk appeared, “seen here with his patented resting movie villain face,-” Amy snorted, “argue that segregation is the answer. But experts say that, you know-“ Remy shrugged, “historically that’s generally not a good thing. I vaguely recall there was a whole war about it awhile back.” Which war he was referring to was left ambiguous…which was also kinda depressing.

“But on the other hand, his opponent Rouge Baton,” one of Amy’s pictures of Rouge at a campaign event appeared, “seen here having just crushed her enemies and listening to the lamentations of their women, doesn’t seem to have any answer other than that Alphas just need to get their shit together. And, as we’ve seen, that’s just not a biologically viable answer.”

“However, things don’t have to be this way. For starters, Rut Riots need to be treated like what they are – a public health issue. No one should be going to jail for missing their medication that morning. And funding needs to be given to develop similar hormonal medications for Alphas that Omegas take every day. We’re too modern of a society to just accept that things like this just happen when they can be fully prevented. But that would require our legislatures pulling their heads out of their asses which has, you know, an ice cube’s chance in hell.” The clip cut off.

Amy checked the date. The show originally aired right after the crisis first started. How’d she not seen this before? She navigated to the OO Forums, ignored half a dozen new unread messages from Orion, and went to post the clip just to find someone had already beaten her to the punch. The thread was already several pages long. Opinions, as per usual, were mixed.

She rubbed her eyes. She had enough reading to last her for months.

There were a large number of locked and deleted threads, far more than usual. Amy assumed users were just getting too heated over the riot, but a fresh post appeared as she watched. Why is no one talking about the StarPhar report leak? As soon as Amy could click on the thread, it was locked and deleted. She frowned. What was that about?

A quick Gaggle search led her to a few small articles about a data breach at a pharmaceutical company. Coverage of the riot and rampant speculation on the identity of the inciting Omega swamped the feeds but Amy was able to glean enough to realize that she’d heard something about this the previous night.

Leaked report accuses rival company of criminal intent, one article read. Whas this what Shadow was dealing with? What had Silver said? Amy tried to rack her brain for snippets. She’d been focused on Shadow and Sonic, but she was sure Silver had said something about this.

Before she could get too deep into the article, Bruno announced their arrival. Amy scrambled to exit the vehicle and found herself once again on the wide, immaculately groomed curb in front of KLS’ headquarters, this time in daylight. Frowning, she turned to Bruno who had not made it around fast enough to get her door for her. “Is this right? I thought you were taking me to a doctor’s office?”

The bear removed his cap. “This is where Mr. Kintobor asked me to bring you, Miss Rose.”

“Miss Rose!” Amy tried not to jump at the new voice and just completely failed. Approaching from the revolving doors of the building were two elderly people in white coats, a male duck and a female dog. “Thank you so much for coming.” The duck extended his hand and Amy shrank back, the heel of her shoe slipping over the edge of the curb.

The man frowned momentarily and then understanding bloom across his face. The hand retracted. “Right. I’m sorry. I had forgotten your haphephobia.”

How did he know that? Duh, Shadow must have told him…what else had Shadow told these people about her? Amy frowned. “H-hello.” She said.

The duck smiled congenially. “I am Dr. Quack and I will be seeing to your care today.”

“Haphephobia is a very common condition amongst Omegas.” The dog with thinning pink fur and a thick accent said matter-of-factly. “Probably made last night quite the ordeal, dear?”

Amy grimaced behind her mask. She should probably assume they knew everything Shadow did about her…but she didn’t have to like it. “Excuse me?”

Dr. Quack cleared his throat. “And this is Dr. Cordelia Ginger, who is consulting with me today. Perhaps we could move inside to a more private setting?” He indicated the building.

Amy’s ears laid back as sudden trepidation took possession of her. She didn’t understand where her anxiety was coming from. She’d been here just the night before and Shadow was likely somewhere inside – probably in his office in fact. He’d arranged for these doctors to take care of her.

Every logical part of this situation seemed to fit, but she couldn’t shake the novelty…and new was often bad by virtue of being…well…new.

“See?” Dr. Ginger glared at Dr. Quack. “This is why I said to wait inside. You bench warmers have no bedside manner.” The duck gave the dog a sour look, but she had turned her attention to Amy. “Come, come, come!” The older woman gestured for Amy to follow her. “Let’s get you inside. The city has bad air, don’t you know?”

Amy looked at Bruno, who returned an encouraging smile. He had a grandfatherly air about him, but he couldn’t be that old…right? With effort, Amy shoved down her misgivings and took a step forward, then another and another, until she was following Dr. Ginger through the revolving glass doors of the fancy office building with Dr. Quack taking up the rear.

A man stood up from behind the security desk as they approached the elevator, but Dr. Quack waved him away, instead keying his badge at the turnstile and ushering Amy through with him. Dr. Ginger had to scan a generic-looking Visitor badge to follow them.

Amy quirked a brow at the duck. “Your privacy is of the utmost importance, Miss Rose.” Dr. Quack explained as they rose in the elevator. “And your time here today is highly confidential. Only a small number of my team and Mr. Kintobor know you are with us today.”

She blushed. It probably wasn’t a good look for Shadow to be seen spending company resources on his girlfriend. The cloak and dagger aspects made her feel uncomfortable, but she’d made a promise to see a doctor. And, she admitted, the anonymity was nice. She felt hidden and secret, far away from prying eyes. Cared for.

They exited on a floor that contained large rooms filled with technical equipment and people in white lab coats working away with nitril-gloved hands. Sonic’s workplace looked very similar, Amy recalled until the thought of him inspired fresh shame. All the walls, save those of the outermost skin of the building were clear glass, allowing clear view.

With a shiver of fear, she wondered if her examination would be performed with similar transparency. To be put on display for all these eyes to see like some specimen. Her steps faltered and the doctors quickly noticed. “Would you like a tour later?” Dr. Quack offered.

“Yes, I’d love one.” Amy lied to cover her fear. Shit, she was supposed to be being better with the falsehoods. Her resolution would be difficult to achieve given just how easily lies slipped from her mouth. With effort she forced herself forward once more, but the tremor in her chest was slowly increasing the urge to bolt like a startled gazelle.

Instead, Amy was led to the nicest examination room she’d ever seen. The examination table dominating the room was covered in a plush vinyl-coated pad and, by some electrical magic, about three quarters of the table was bent upwards to form a comfy looking seat.

To the sides were countertops, one of which had an assortment of bottles of water and individually packaged snacks. A second door seemed to lead to a private bathroom while a large window gave access to an amazing view of the city, though not in the direction of the river. The entire area was immaculately clean, and the sterile smell was strangely inviting.

Without being asked, Amy laid her purse down and took her place on the examination table, which, if she was being honest, seemed more an examination throne given its comfortable nature and how much height it afforded her. The doctors arranged themselves in front of her in the fashion granted by years of practice.

“Now is time for some proper introductions, I think.” Dr. Quack gestured at himself. “My name is Dr. Horatio Quack and I am the Chief Medical Officer for Kintobor Life Sciences. I oversee the research and development process for KLS’ profile of pharmaceuticals. I am an expert in Second-Sex specific pharmacology and Shadow requested for my professional opinion regarding your situation.” Amy realized this was the first time she’d heard anyone who worked for Shadow use his given name.

Dr. Quack continued. “We are currently investigating the causes of the recent epidemic of hyperestrus in the City’s Omega populations. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for having the courage to allow us to collect samples and information from you.”

Amy blushed. She wasn’t expecting this and she really wished Shadow had mentioned that her trip to the doctor’s was something more, but somehow it made sense. She had once suspected her unruly heats might have been related to the crisis, but Dr. Chambers had dismissed her concerns so thoroughly she’d nearly forgotten.

“Oh, uh, I’m happy to help.” Amy replied lamely.

“It’s natural to be nervous, dear. I’m here to make sure this process is as painless as possible.” Dr. Ginger smiled. She had a grandmotherly quality to her.

Dr. Quack cleared his throat. “Yes, well, today, I am joined by Dr. Ginger, who is a paramount physician specialized specifically in the Omega anatomy.”

“The paramount physician.” Dr. Ginger corrected. “Among other things, I head the Gynecologic Oncology Center at City General where I specialize in surgical interventions. Mr. Kintobor begged me to consult today. He was quite concerned you seem to have the same symptoms as his wife.”

The word hit her like a slap across the face. “W-wife?” The bottom fell out of Amy’s stomach and all color drained from her face. No. Now hold on, let’s think about this. No no no no no, that wasn’t right. Absolutely correct, that wasn’t right. Shadow wasn’t married. Take a deep breath and think. That was impossible…right? She really needed to take a deep breath right the hell now.

“Yes,” Dr. Ginger frowned, seemingly growing concerned about Amy’s reaction to the news, “before my successful treatment of her, mind you.” Don’t freak out. “Mrs. Kintobor is perfectly healthy and very symptom free now.” Do not freak out. What if Shadow had been lying to her this whole time? What a stupid question. “You needn’t worry, dear.” Shadow wouldn’t lie. “You are in very good hands.”

Amy was freaking out.