Content/Trigger warning for discussion of domestic abuse & intimate partner violence.

The next week went by in a blur. Dante was still running all over the Center and struggling to balance his regular appointments with what felt like one long series of crises. They had a string of new intakes, there was another fight in the dining hall (two female Omegas this time, and mercifully no one needed to go to the hospital afterwards), Dante had to call the police when a drunk Alpha showed up at the door with a knife and demanded to see his mate (he was arrested without incident), and then there was the problem of what to do with Trevor.

Dante wasn’t able to find time to sit down and talk with him until the day after the fight. Their normal therapy appointments were on Thursdays, but Dante preferred to handle things sooner rather than later. 

When Trevor entered the office, he beelined for the couch, flopped down, and folded his arms with an air of aggrieved defiance.

Dante adopted the neutral professional tone he used with patients, but since they both knew why Trevor was there, he began without preamble. 

“So. What’s going on with you, Trevor?”

“Are you asking as my therapist, or as the acting Director of the Center?” Trevor asked testily.

Dante sighed. Here we go. “I’m your therapist first; you know that. But Trev, these fights can’t keep happening. Talk to me, and let’s figure this out.”

Trevor snorted. “I won’t apologize for hating him. You’re the one who’s always telling me that I’m entitled to my feelings.”

“Of course you are. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise,” Dante replied. “You’re still responsible for your actions, though. From what I heard, Raf wasn’t the one who provoked or started the fight.”

Trevor paused, then smiled and leered suggestively at him. “Oh… ‘Raf’ now, is it?”

“Trevor…”

“I should have known you’d take his side,” Trevor growled. “A big strong Alpha with a cute face waltzes in and blinks his dreamy brown eyes, and half the Omegas in the room instantly swoon. Including you, apparently! It doesn’t matter what he’s really like, or what he’s capable of. The dude literally burned me and smacked me into a table, and you all just rush in to defend him! Don’t think I don’t know what that’s really about.”

“What’s it about, Trevor?” Dante asked patiently.

“It’s about sucking up to the goddamned Alpha, right? That’s what it’s always about! He’s somebody, and I’m nobody. So no matter what I do, I’m always going to be wrong. Who gives a shit if I’m the one who started it or not? It’s always going to be my fault. And I’m always going to be the one who ends up getting hurt.”

“Raf got hurt, too. You know he had to go to the hospital for a concussion,” Dante pointed out.

“Yeah, and I’ll bet they took real good care of him there,” Trevor sneered. “He could have been faking for all we know, and they still would have treated him like fucking royalty.”

Dante resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was going nowhere. He knew Trevor had a massive persecution complex, and trying to get him to look at the situation objectively obviously wasn’t working. He had to try a different approach.

“Okay, let’s back up a moment. You said you’re always the one who gets hurt. Do you want to talk a little more about that?”

Trevor eyed him with sudden suspicion. “No. I was talking figuratively.”

“Were you? Because I have your file, Trevor. I’ve seen the incident reports. You definitely have been hurt before, and not just figuratively.”

Trevor flushed and looked at the ground. “Those were just some disagreements between me and Pete. I mean, yeah, I guess they got a little heated, but you know, that’s just how we were as a couple. ‘Fits of passion’ and all that.”

“Trevor. He beat you with a golf club. On multiple occasions.”

“Yeah, but I was the one that provoked him! I told him that he was a useless Alpha, and that if he didn’t get off his ass and get a job, I’d leave. I was always mouthing off like that. It was my fault he got mad and snapped.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Trevor.”

“Of course it was!” Trevor jumped up and started pacing. “Just like it was my fault every other time he hit me! If I’d just been able to keep my mouth shut and behave like a nice, submissive Omega, everything would have been fine.” He stopped, his voice hitching. “Everything would have been…just fine.”

Dante watched with sympathy as Trevor finally ran out of steam and sank back down onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. 

“Trevor, listen,” he said. “I’m not judging you. It took a lot of courage for you to leave Pete and come here. That must have been incredibly hard to do.” 

Trevor nodded silently, his body shaking.

“I know you blame yourself for what happened, but I think you also know that the situation you were in was not a healthy one, and that leaving was ultimately the right choice. If you trust me enough to talk about it, I can help you process what happened, and maybe try to make some peace with it.”

He reached for a box of tissues and handed it to Trevor, who grabbed one and noisily blew his nose. Dante waited until it seemed like he had calmed down before continuing.

“In the meantime, though, we need to figure out a way for you to handle your anger more constructively than you have been. I’m not saying that you have to like Raf or be his friend, but you do have to find a way to co-exist with him without things turning violent. Can you do that for me?”

“I’m just...not sure I know how,” Trevor said in a small, quavering voice.

Dante smiled gently. “I have some suggestions if you want to hear them, though it will ultimately be up to you to pick the strategy that works best for you. Would you be willing to give that a try?”

Trevor twisted his lips and sat for a long moment in silence before he finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good.” Dante reached into his desk and began to pull out some printouts he kept on anger management and conflict mitigation strategies. “Let’s start with these.”

----

In all the chaos, Dante didn’t have a whole lot of time to spend thinking about Raf, but the Alpha still crept into his thoughts at odd moments, their conversation replaying in his mind in bits and pieces throughout the week.

There was a lot to parse through, but one thing that had particularly stuck with Dante was Raf’s stubborn insistence on taking full responsibility for the fight. To be fair, he reminded himself, there was some merit to that argument. While Trevor had obviously been the aggressor, Raf also could have done a better job of controlling his temper, especially since he was the stronger of the two. But, then again, he was an Alpha, and a young one at that. When dropped into stressful fight-or-flight situations, most Alphas defaulted to aggression, not deescalation. It would almost have been more of a shock if Raf hadn’t defended himself, under those circumstances. 

And yet, Dante had gotten the distinct impression that Raf was deeply ashamed of himself for giving in to his instincts.

“He said to me, ‘Rafael, real Alphas don’t hurt Omegas.’ I never forgot that.”

The more Dante thought about it, the more it made sense. Raf had shown himself to be a conscientious young man, but his deep aversion to hurting Omegas wasn’t a mere personal inclination. It had been drilled into him by someone else. 

It had not escaped Dante’s notice that Raf’s panic attack had been triggered by his fear of how his father might react to news of the fight. It sounded like the man had a very strict code about what Alphas should and shouldn’t be. Judging from his reactions, Raf had likely struggled to meet those expectations, and had suffered as a result. 

For some reason, this really pissed Dante off. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because Raf had turned out to be a much kinder and more sensitive person than Dante had expected. He clearly cared deeply about doing the right thing, even if it meant that he got hurt as a result. It was hard not to be protective of someone like that. Even for a trained professional like Dante, it was perfectly natural to feel angry when witnessing someone be poorly treated by those who were supposed to care about him.

Yes, surely that was it. 

After all, it couldn’t possibly be because he had formed some kind of strange attachment to the boy. That would make no sense. Raf hadn’t even been working at the Center for a full day, for god’s sake.

“It’s probably because you recognized something in him that reminds you of yourself.” Unbidden, Thomas's words from their prior conversation drifted through his head.

Shut up, Thomas, Dante thought angrily. No one asked you.

Still, he kept thinking about him. All. Damn. Week.

On Saturday night, Dante received a text message from Raf stating that he had been cleared to return to the Center the following week. Dante typed out a quick reply, and then hummed to himself as he began to get ready for bed. 

It was admittedly a relief to finally hear from him. After almost a week of radio silence, Dante had been starting to worry that perhaps Raf had changed his mind about coming back. Now that his return was certain, Dante could move forward with his plan for integrating Raf into the Center with a clear conscience. He hoped that everything would go over well with the residents, but he was determined to make it work regardless. 

Having Raf around would be good for all of them. Dante was sure of it.

He couldn’t help a small grin as he began to brush his teeth. Monday couldn’t come soon enough.