Content warning:

In this chapter, the main character is seeking treatment for a forced claim bite. The care he is seeking is analogous to the care for a sexual assault or intimate partner violence in our world.  

This chapter may trigger people who are sensitive to discussion of sexual assaults or intimate partner violence or people who experience panic attacks. 

***

Teneisha watched from the nurses’ desk as the two doctors came down the hall together, conversing. She shook her head. They looked like a very odd matchy-matchy couple in their identical dark blue scrubs and white coats. Susan Caris was a tiny, slender Omega, around fifty years old, with tight-cropped white hair and bold, square-framed black glasses. She radiated efficiency, moving with brisk places-to-go, people-to-see energy. 

Beside her, taking one step for every three of his colleague’s, was Alexander Anderson. A tall, rangy Alpha in his early thirties, his utilitarian scrubs hung from his frame as negligently and elegantly as if he were coming down a catwalk. Teneisha permitted herself her one millionth tuh at his overabundance of looks.    

Alex’s glossy black hair was cut into stylish layers that were probably his barber’s idea rather than his own, because while Alex didn’t seem to care much about fashion, who could resist the chance to ply their trade to the utmost on a head like his? A face that pretty called for the best frame a stylist could manage.

The face in question could have earned Alex a much easier living draping himself over furniture or appliances and sucking in his cheeks for the camera. Instead, he’d come to work for a non-profit clinic, fighting an uphill battle every day of his professional life. Teneisha had worked with him since the clinic had opened three years earlier, and he was young enough to be her son, but she still couldn’t get over that face.

“I may be happily married, I may be peri-menopausal, but I’m not dead,” she’d said to her friends about him, laughing.

“So? How’s he tolerating the meds?” asked Susan, snapping Teneisha out of Alex’s spell.

Teneshia cleared her throat and handed over the tablet with her notes. “As far as that goes, everything’s fairly normal—nausea, anosmia. He’s pretty traumatized, though, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Alexander, I think you’d better give him his space when you’re in there.”

He nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the heads-up.” 

Teneisha continued, “This couldn’t have happened to an Omega any less deserving of violence. He’s smart and sweet and brave. Finishing up an MS in social work at Loyola is what he told me last time. Knew enough to get himself here the day after his attack, filed his police reports, got set up with the counselor… So you can go ahead and explain things to him in detail. I think he’d appreciate it.”

Alex nodded again.  

“The blood pressure cuff gave him a panic attack that ended up in dry heaves. Tried to throw up his liver, the poor thing. He’s lost weight since last time, so I don’t think he’s been eating. He’s very sensitive about having his neck and back touched since the attack. I just got him settled down again, and he’s calm now, and resting. So we’re not going to mess around with him too much during the consult, okay?” Teneisha gave them both a warning look.

“Was there a sexual assault as part of the forced claim?” Alex inquired grimly.

“No, at least he was spared that,” Susan responded. “I spoke with the officer that referred him to us. Apparently, the Alpha was a guy a classmate had introduced to him. They'd gone out a couple of times in a group before this. Apparently they were at a party last week, had a few drinks, ended up in a back room of the house, and the next thing this poor kid knows, he’s got some big, dumb, drunk, entitled fucking Alpha pushing his face into the furniture and force-claiming him.”

Alex’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“He fought the guy and someone heard him yell and came into the room. Pulled the Alpha off of him.” Susan sighed. “He went to the police the same night, apparently, which is awesome. Of course the asshole said he thought it was consensual, so it’s ‘he-said, he-said,’ but the police brought the assailant in on an assault and battery charge anyway because he’d attacked the guy who interrupted the assault. He’ll get a simple assault charge for the claim bite, too. That’s the best they can do.”

Susan pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and continued. “We did a forced claim kit on the wound just to have the evidence, but you know how it is—just a bite wound in the eyes of the law. To make it worse, the Alpha apparently knows someone who knows someone in DC and phone calls were made. He was back out on the street by morning. The cop was pissed off about it.”

Alex snorted derisively, unsurprised but perpetually frustrated with the way the law limped along, decades behind the science when it came to forced claims. “That’s such bullshit. At least we can actually do something for him on our end.” 

He put out a hand. “Let me get another look at the chart.” He scanned the screen. “So the patient started treatment within forty-eight hours and it’s been… eight days since the assault? Anosmia and nausea, that’s expected… Gotta get him eating.”

“I counseled him about eating regularly and taking the meds with food,” Teneisha supplied.

“We’ll get him on some Zofran, too,” Susan supplied. “That’ll help. Dr. Charles may recommend some meds for the panic attacks, too, after she meets with him. Teneisha, remind me to send in the Zofran script when we’re done in there.”

“Will do.”

Alex scrolled through the notes and photos on the tablet, reviewing the images of the wound. “Looks like there’s just one claim site and not too much trauma to the tissue, so I think we’re not going to have any issues with the reversal, cosmetically or otherwise. At least the bastard had the good grace to have bad aim–if he got more than one fang in the cervical gland, I’d be surprised. Should be very straightforward.”

“That’s what I told him at his first appointment,” responded Susan. “I wish we could get more Omegas in here this quickly. We could do so much more for them.”

Alex looked at Teneisha inquiringly. “When does he see Dr. Charles?”

“His first appointment is tomorrow. He’s starting with twice a week,” Teneisha responded in an approving tone.

“Perfect.”

“That’s what I just told him.” 

“Alright,” Alex said with a sigh. “Ladies, you go in first, because he’s not going to be thrilled to have a big Alpha lurking around him right now. You can be a buffer between us. The anosmia should make it a little easier for him, at least. Teneisha, did you let him know about me?”

“You know I always do.”

“Then let’s head in,” Alex said, holding the door for his colleagues.

***

Gabriel sat up quickly when the doorknob turned, pivoting to dangle his legs over the edge of the exam table and adjusting his paper shirt. He looked up briefly at Dr. Caris and the man behind her, automatically scenting the air to get a read on the tall Alpha. The air smelled like nothing but antiseptic to him, and he looked down again, feeling some panic rising up around the edges. 

Breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, he reminded himself. At least going to school for social work came with the side benefit of having studied trauma responses and the therapies for them.

“Hey baby, you ready for us?” Teneisha asked in a friendly voice, scanning his face. “You look like you’re feeling a little steadier.”

Gabriel looked up again briefly and gave her a gesture of assent. The doctors were standing behind her with their carefully neutral faces and their deliberately slow movements. They were being considerate, he knew, but it made Gabriel feel like a medical curiosity on display in a jar. Everyone was handling him so carefully, as if he might shatter, mentally clucking their tongues and pitying him. He hated everything about this, but he would get through it. He would get his power back.

“I am feeling better, thanks,” he half-lied. “At least my stomach is.”

Teneisha gestured to the small Omega behind her, “Gabriel, you remember Dr. Caris from your first appointment?”

“Of course, nice to see you again,” said Gabriel hoarsely, and then flushed at how absurd it was of him to call anything about this experience nice.

Dr. Caris stepped forward. “It’s good to see you back, Gabriel, and it sounds like you’re doing well on your meds, although I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way. I hear you’re having some anosmia? That’s actually a really positive sign the meds are doing what they’re supposed to—keeping your body from responding to pheromones. Teneisha says you've been having some stomach upset, too? We’ll call in something for your nausea before you leave.”

“Ok, sounds good,” Gabriel responded, more out of politeness than anything.

“They may make you a little sleepy, so be careful about driving.”

“Public transportation’s greener. I don’t own a car.”

“Ok, well, that’s one less thing to worry about. You can take the nausea meds twice daily as needed, but usually your body kind of adjusts to the suppressant drugs and the nausea naturally decreases after a couple of weeks. I understand Teneisha spoke with you about the need to eat regularly with these meds?”

“She did. I will. I mean, I’ll start… Eating,” said Gabriel lamely. 

“Sounds good. So, I want to introduce you to my colleague, Alex Anderson. Dr. Anderson is kind of a rare bird. He’s an endocrinologist, and he has worked with me for a while on developing our claim-reversal protocol. This field is his specialty, so he’s also board-certified in plastic surgery and he performs our claim-site revision procedures. He’s going to talk to you a little about your surgery, and if you have any questions, he can answer them for you.”