"This is bullshit," Marion said, slamming her fist against the fine wooden wall she was currently leaning on for support.

 

"And that's the tenth time you've said that in as many minutes," a voice answered from the impenetrable darkness of their confines, but Marion didn't need to see the owner to know who it was.

 

"Oh shut the fuck up, Stephanie," Marion growled. "If you haven't noticed, we're in some fucking girl's jewelry box and she's probably going to fucking kill us!"

 

Stephanie seemed to go quiet as Marion shrieked out that last bit, but only for a moment.

 

"Doesn't mean you have to be annoying as hell about it," Stephanie murmured. Marion kicked the wall with the back of her foot in response.

 

Things went quiet again for a few minutes, but for all Marion knew it could have been hours. It was hard to tell time in the pitch-black confines of this box, and all of their phones had been smashed upon their capture. They didn't even know how long they had been imprisoned at this point. Their captor had removed them occasionally for food, water, and a restroom break, but they had yet to see any indicators of the current time or date.

 

The young woman that was imprisoning them had also barely spoken to them. The first time she'd taken them out, she told them very frankly what she was letting them do and that was that. The only other thing she had said to them was that she had "more important things to deal with than you three" as she unceremoniously dumped them in this box for the first time.

 

Speaking of "you three," a third voice suddenly broke the silence.

 

"It's not like we don't deserve it," it uttered, the voice heavy with resignation. Marion's anger instantly flared.

 

"Deserve what, precisely?" Marion demanded, her voice dripping with venom.

 

"Her killing us," the voice replied somberly.

 

"Bullshit, we didn't do anything worth being killed over," Marion seethed. "Has your stupid fucking brain already started to rot, Naomi?"

 

"We assaulted a guy, Marion. We broke him," Naomi replied, her tone drenched in disgust.

 

"Well, that answers that fucking question," Marion yelled in frustration. "It was a fucking Beta, Naomi, why shouldn't we be able to do whatever we want to it? That was how it used to work."

 

The frustration in Marion's voice was palpable.

 

"Yes," Naomi replied, an edge of annoyance entering her voice, "that was how it used to work. It's also why the Omegas appeared. It's why they have absolute authority when it comes to Beta safety. And it's why we're here right now, because we were too stupid and arrogant to let go of that past before we fucked everything up for ourselves."

 

Naomi seemed to spit out those last few words, and Marion wished she could find the girl in the darkness, because she desperately wanted to lay her out. Where was all this shit coming from?

 

"It was still just a Beta, Naomi," Stephanie piped up, her voice the definition of apathetic. "They're little toys to us, and may as well be dust mites to the Omegas. I won't say we didn't go a little overboard, they obviously feel pain, but they aren't our equals and it's silly that we're expected to treat them like they are."

 

"They're people, Stephanie," Naomi responded, her annoyed tone now shifting to one of quiet anger. "I watched his face - his face, not it's face - the entire time. The fear, the pain, him trying to understand why we were doing that to him...that's a fucking person, Stephanie, and he should have been treated like one, even if he is smaller than us."

 

Naomi's breathing was audible now. She really was getting worked up, Marion thought, but she couldn't help but sneer at this bullshit from her friend. Maybe she'd take the opportunity to wind her up a bit more, she thought with a smile.

 

"The fact that he didn't understand why we did what we did isn't really a point in your favor, hon. We did what we did because we could, and if the little shits were even half as smart as us, they'd realize that and welcome it," Marion drawled, her tone mocking Naomi at every syllable.

 

She didn't have a chance to see how well her bait worked.

 

"That was unfortunate," a voice suddenly boomed from outside their prison. Marion instantly froze in terror. That voice had been directly behind her position.

 

"Shit shit shit," Marion thought, "please don't fucking tell me she was listening in on all that."

 

Their confines suddenly shook, gently but with enough suddenness to cause Marion to momentarily lose her footing before catching herself. The grind of wood against wood and the sudden illumination of their confines marked the removal of the box's lid, and all three girls were momentarily blinded as their eyes adjusted to the light. Slowly, they all looked up, and were greeted by the pretty, disgusted face of their captor, her head resting on her hand as she looked down upon them as if about to render a judgment from God.

 

She was silent for a few moments. Marion found herself focusing on the young woman's dark brown eyes, her attention caught by the steady constriction of her pupils. She knew what this was, the woman was simply focusing her vision on them, magnifying what she saw so that she could look at them in greater detail like only an Omega could. It was unnerving as hell to watch.

 

Finally, she spoke.

 

"I think it's about time we discuss your futures, little ones," she said, her voice clear and commanding. "Particularly the detail of whether or not any of you actually have one."

 

 "That was unfortunate," Claire uttered in response to the little conversation occurring within her jewelry box. She had been sitting at her dresser for quite a while, her head resting on her arms as she listened in. The Alphas hadn't been speaking much until the last half hour, it had mostly been scattered yelling and cursing from the one named Marion. A smile had crossed her face when she voiced her assumption that Claire was going to murder her. She dearly wanted to, but that was a personal matter, one best kept away from her actual responsibilities.

 

This little conversation had been...unexpected. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. The Naomi girl clearly felt remorse, and that was good. Rehabilitation was always a more favorable outcome when it came to these matters, and Naomi was saying the right things to mark her as a potential success on that front.

 

She was almost glad when the other two responded as they did. While rehabilitation was the goal, that didn't mean they got off without punishment, and the punishment these three had earned would be much easier to deliver if she were motivated.

 

"Not that I need help with that," she thought bitterly, images of the victim passing through her thoughts.

 

Sighing, Claire sat up and brushed her long black hair back over her shoulder. It was time for a talk, and her left hand settled on the top of box's lid, jarring the container slightly. Removing the lid, she carefully set it to the side as she peered down at her little prisoners, resting her head on her hand as she did so. She wanted to laugh a little as they blindly looked around, but felt it best to keep her composure.

 

As they regained their sight, Claire decided to get a better look at them. She wanted to see their faces clearly during this little talk, so best if she went ahead and focused her vision in on them. She had identified all three several hours earlier, and pulled the files on them while making a trip to the local Facility to process them into her charge and pick up a few things.

 

Marion, the little redhead, was the first one she wanted to get a look at, and she was pleased that the little girl's sight had adjusted in time to watch Claire's gaze focus on her. Watching her face contort from one of discomfort and nervousness to one of terror was a pleasant feeling. Claire disliked this girl immensely. Her file was full of bullying infractions, both in regards to Betas and her fellow Alphas. She was apparently the daughter of some well-off automotive executive, and near as Claire could tell, he spoiled the hell out of her. That wasn't going to last much longer.

 

Moving on, Naomi was the next one Claire recognized. As soon as she saw Claire's eyes land on her, her head immediately drooped and the raven-haired Asian girl simply stared at her own feet. The file on Naomi had...not been what she suspected, given the nature of this crime. Her record was spotless. Not even a hint of Beta mistreatment anywhere in it, and no sign of general misconduct anywhere. Claire had no idea why she had decided to ruin that record, but she intended to find out.

 

That left Stephanie, the little brunette with the pony-tail. Claire may have disliked Marion the most, but Stephanie worried her the most. The girl simply did not care, an observation reinforced by her meeting Claire's judgmental gaze with an apathetic stare. While her file offered no indication that she was the proactive bully that Marion was, there were plenty of incidences where she had harmed a Beta for no other reason than the fact that she didn't care enough to adjust her own actions. There was a particular instance that stuck out to Claire from about eight years prior, when Stephanie had been 10, and she wanted to talk to her about that eventually.

 

For now, she had a foundation to lay.

 

"I think it's about time we discuss your futures, little ones," she started. "Particularly the detail of whether or not any of you actually have one."

 

Her choice of words had the desired effect. Stephanie's apathetic gaze quickly melted, and Marion immediately began trying to claw her way up and out of the jewelry box. Unfortunately for her, while she might have been pretty, she wasn't particularly athletic, and the box that was 6 inches tall from Claire's perspective was double the height of the girls. She quickly tired out, eventually turning around and meeting Claire's gaze one again before slumping to the ground, eyes still on the Omega.

 

Naomi was the only one who didn't visibly react, but Claire also couldn't see her face. That wasn't going to work, and Claire began moving her left hand into the box. Marion's look of terror intensified as the tanned appendage invaded their domain, and Stephanie moved as far away from the hand as she could get in their limited amount of space. Naomi seemed unaware, until the pad of Claire's index finger entered her vision. She jumped back slightly, but was stopped almost immediately by the side of the box.

 

Ever so tenderly, Claire caught the girl's chin on the underside of the slight fingernail she kept and gingerly lifted the girl's head up until she could plainly see her face. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed that Naomi had been silently crying to herself before the girl turned her head to the side, again trying to avoid eye contact.

 

"Naomi, listen to me and look at me," Claire commanded softly. Naomi's only response was that she began to tremble, and Claire clicked her tongue in annoyance. She was hoping Naomi would be the easiest one to talk to.

 

"Naomi," Claire called again, "I need you to look at me. I have to be able to see your face while I talk to you three, because I need to be able to see your reactions. If I can't see your face, I can't take anything you say seriously. I'll have to consider the possibility that you're being dishonest with me, and that isn't good for you. Now look. At. Me."

 

Naomi's head slowly turned until she was once again facing Claire, and Claire decided to spare the girl a small smile. Positive reinforcement would be crucial with her.

 

"Good," she said with a soft voice. "Keep it just like that, whenever we're speaking. But while I've got you..."

 

Claire suddenly adjusted her hand, and reached her fingers behind the small girl, prying her away from back of the jewelry box before surrounding and trapping her within. Only Naomi's head remained visible between her thumb and index finger as Claire carefully lifted her up and out of the jewelry box before depositing her gently on the dresser in front of her.

 

Naomi had maintained eye contact through the entire action. That was good, even if the only expression on her face was one of abject terror. The important thing was that she was putting forth the effort to do what Claire required of her. A little thing, but an important one. So many Alphas dismissed the little things.

"Now stay right there," Claire commanded as her hand traveled back to the jewelry box. Looking at the two remaining girls, and remembering what they had said earlier when they thought they were alone, Claire felt her sudden tenderness leave her. There was no need for that with these two.

 

Stephanie was her first target, and to her credit the girl didn't try to fight her as the tips of Claire's thumb and forefinger clasped around her waist like a vice. Claire lifted her out rather roughly, bringing her next to Naomi and unceremoniously dropping her onto the mahogany surface with about three inches to spare. Stephanie managed to land on her feet and remain steady, but it still left her startled as she moved closer to Naomi.

 

Saving Marion for last had been a conscious decision. Claire had a feeling she would provide some...entertainment, and as her fingers drew closer to the redhead, her feeling was rewarded. The girl hit the floor of the box at the last second before Claire grabbed her, following it up by rolling quickly to the opposite end of her prison.

 

"That was a poor decision," Claire said, as she began to move her hand toward Marion once again.

 

"Fuck you!" she heard the little monster shriek, eliciting an annoyed twitch of Claire's right eye.

 

"Rude little thing, aren't you?" she muttered as she made another grab at the redhead, this time offering no avenue for escape as she brought her whole hand to bear against her charge, scooping her up effortlessly. She casually rolled the girl around on her palm with her thumb, the digit meeting no effective resistance as Marion tried to push it away. Claire had her positioned where she wanted her soon enough, and Marion found herself in the same inescapable grip that had earlier carried Naomi away.

 

"Let me go, let me go, let me go!" Marion yelled as Claire lifted her out of the box. "You can't fucking do this, let me go!"

 

Claire had to fight back a smile.

 

"On the contrary, it's well within my authority to do this, little one," she calmly stated. "In fact, doing this is precisely why I exist."

 

"Fuck you, bitch! My daddy won't let you do this to me, not over some Beta trash! Now let me fucking go!"

 

"Thank you," Claire thought to herself. As Marion continued to fight against her grip, yelling various obscenities at her warden, Claire's attention turned to Naomi and Stephanie, both of whom were looking directly at her already.

 

"Naomi, Stephanie, please focus your eyes on your little friend for a moment," she commanded, both girls immediately complying. Turning her attention back to the still struggling Marion, Claire began to lift her middle finger away from Marion's body. Marion's struggles temporarily halted as her attention shifted to the moving digit, her gaze eventually returning back to meet Claire's.

 

"What are you-" Marion began, but got no further as Claire snapped the finger back to Marion, delivering an immense impact to the girl's stomach with the pad of her finger. Marion attempted to scream, but it was squelched by the air evacuating her lungs.

 

Claire found the little gasp quite pleasant, but she really was finding it harder and harder to maintain her stone-faced look as the little hellion gave her the excuse she craved to make things a bit more physical. She really hadn't cared for those earlier comments.

 

Bringing her fist down to the dresser, she steadily uncurled her fingers, and a slight tilt sent Marion tumbling down onto the wooden surface. The girl immediately clutched her stomach and began rolling around, coughing and crying as Claire watched on. For a moment, her eyes shifted over to the other two girls. Both were trembling, and they both took a step back as they watched Claire's eyes turn onto them.

 

"Don't be afraid, little ones," Claire stated, her voice softening. "This was just me providing an example of what to expect if you behave like dear Marion just did. As long as you don't act out, you have nothing to worry about..."

 

Claire paused, giving the two just a moment to process that. She noticed that their trembling calmed down dramatically after just a few seconds.

 

"...at least, not beyond our scheduled sessions," she finished.

 

Both girls looked at her, mouths slightly agape and eyes wide as the trembling returned.

 

 "S-s-sch-scheduled...s-s-sessions?" Naomi stuttered out. This was becoming too much. It felt as if every time this giant woman comforted her, it was immediately undone by some unnerving action.

 

"Yes, little one," the Omega said, "you don't inflict the damage that you three did and not get some of it paid back. Even if you feel bad about it now, you still did it, and that blood needs to be repaid."

 

An audible whimper escaped Naomi's lips. It wasn't that she wasn't ready to take responsibility for what she did, but...hearing it in those terms was still scary, especially when they were stated so casually.

 

"But don't worry, we have a system of sorts for this. You won't eliminate all your sessions, but you can at least lessen them," Claire stated. "Provided that you put forth the effort. Now..."

 

Naomi watched as the giantess brought her hand back to Marion, who had rolled over onto her side so as to face away from her. Marion was still sobbing, but it didn't stop their captor from delivering a soft but firm poke to the redhead's back.

 

"Marion, turn around, sit up, and stop crying. I have a lot to talk to you three about, and you've wasted enough of my time."

 

Marion gave no response, and after a few seconds it was clear to Naomi that she had no intention of following instructions. Claire's answer was to plant the tip of her index finger directly in front of the sobbing girl.

 

"Do it," she said, "or I do a repeat performance of our little example."

 

Marion instantly rolled back over to face her, and scrambled to stand back up even as she continued to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide, red, and watery. She seemed to suddenly remember the last bit of the Omega's order, and quickly wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

 

Naomi couldn't help but be entranced by this, her eyes fixated on the threatening hand. She had known Marion for years, and had never seen her so...tame. Usually no one told the redhead what to do, and if they did she never complied. How she had behaved earlier was the Marion she knew, unrelenting in her belief that she was beyond reproach and consequence.

 

Yet a single swing of a finger from the titanic woman in front of her seemed to have turned Marion into a mewling, obedient creature. But that wasn't all she had seen it do. The feeling of that finger catching her chin, the tenderness it radiated as it had gently lifted her head up was still fresh on her mind. The control this woman exhibited...

 

She was amazing.

 

The Omega's hand suddenly began to retreat, and Naomi's admiring gaze followed it. She found herself really taking in the woman's appearance for the first time, her nervous trembling calming down as her mind fixated on the powerful titaness. Naomi's eyes traced up the length of her forearm, reaching her bare bicep as the woman idly flexed, unwittingly showing off her toned muscle to her small admirer.

 

Naomi couldn't help but shiver in slight awe. Even if this woman had been an Alpha, she had the feeling the group of three could still be manhandled by her. Eventually, her gaze moved on, traveling back to the Omega's face. For the first time, she noticed that her view was partially obstructed by the woman's chest, the blue material of her tank-top pulled taut against her breasts. Naomi blushed a bit as she realized where her vision was focused, and lifted her gaze to meet the woman's eyes again.

 

Why was she suddenly noticing these things? This wasn't the first time she had seen the woman, after all. Had the terror and respect she commanded occupied all of her attention up until now? Did this titaness exhibit such power over her that she had become numb to her surroundings?

 

Naomi's thoughts were interrupted as her captor spoke again.

 

"Now, all of you line up on...let's say Naomi, and stand up straight and at attention," she ordered. "I want all of you facing me directly, because there's a lot you need to pay attention to."

 

There was no delay on the part of the girls. As soon as Claire finished, they had lined up exactly as told. Naomi found that she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Stephanie, with Marion at the other end. All three of them were as straight as a rail.

 

"Good," the Omega started. "Now, I think it's time I formally introduced myself. My name is Claire Lindon, Junior Grade Enforcer with Aegis. You will refer to me as Enforcer Lindon, Ma'am, or Miss Lindon unless I have allowed otherwise. As of 1300 hours today, you three have been processed into my custody with no objections from High Command. Do any of you understand what that means?"

 

Naomi slowly raised her hand, finding herself strangely eager to please.

 

"Yes, Naomi?"

 

"It means," Naomi started, a sigh escaping her lips, "it means they found sufficient evidence to unanimously support both the arrest and whatever disciplinary and rehabilitation plans you submitted."

 

"Very good," Claire said with a smile. "To expand on that, every single thing I have already done or will do has been approved by the highest authority in the world on this. There is no getting out of this without completing those aforementioned plans to my satisfaction, and mine alone."

 

All three girls gulped at this proclamation, and Naomi thought she heard Claire suppress an amused giggle.

 

"Now," Claire continued," I believe I mentioned our sessions earlier. But before we go into that, let's...review for just a moment. Because you need to fully understand what you did wrong in order to understand why you deserve everything I'm going to do to you. So, which one of you can tell me what you did wrong?"

 

Again, Naomi raised her hand. She was eager this time, as well, but not out of any desire to please the Enforcer. She simply wanted to give the honest answer, before Stephanie or Marion could say something stupid.

 

"We..." Naomi halted momentarily, uncomfortable with recounting the shameful actions she had been a part of. But she had to own up to her mistakes. After a deep breath, she continued. "We assaulted a man.....savagely. We broke his bones and tortured him because....because he was just a Beta to us."

 

"Correct," Claire replied, no smile accompanying the affirmation this time. "Luckily, the victim survived. Barely. Because I happened to come across you and break things up before you three killed him, and got him the medical attention he required. So keep that in mind over the course of our time together: What you are going to experience is nothing compared to what I would have done if that man had died. Do you three understand that?"

 

A solemn nod from the three girls was their answer. Naomi herself was truly thankful to her, even if she wasn't sure why the Omega had been in that area anyway. Having a murder on her conscience in addition to the brutality itself...she didn't believe she could cope with that.

 

"Moving on, I received the victim's medical evaluation from his physician earlier. This is important to you three, because this evaluation is what an evaluation group within Aegis uses to determine the minimum number of disciplinary sessions you will endure over the course of our time together."

 

Claire paused for a moment, and Naomi noticed that she was carefully studying them, likely to see their reactions. Naomi didn't dare look away from her, her earlier command still ringing in her head, but she knew her own reaction at least: A growing sense of dread. She was not looking forward to this, to knowing exactly how much damage she had done.

 

As Claire began reading off the list, her cadence slow to let each injury sink in, Naomi found that her eyes were welling up.

 

A fractured skull. A dislocated shoulder. The humerus of his right arm shattered. Four ribs bruised, five fractured. His hip dislocated. His right leg snapped.

 

Naomi wanted to throw up. It felt as if her sins were being read to her by a judgmental god. Worse, she could picture what they had done to cause each injury. The shattered arm was her sin alone, but she was certain she had contributed to the rib injuries and possibly the dislocated hip as well.

 

Worst of all was the fact that their victim had somehow remained conscious throughout the entire ordeal.

 

Out of a morbid curiosity, she shifted her eyes to get a glimpse of Stephanie. She was surprised to see the girl being so visibly uncomfortable, shaking slightly and even biting her lip. She was less surprised to see Marion a little further down, apathetic to the harm they caused. Her gaze quickly returned to Claire, however, as she began to speak once more.

 

"Taking into account the above, the evaluation group has set a minimum of 52 disciplinary sessions for each of you. These are to be delivered once per week, and independent disciplinary actions I take in response to any misbehavior do not count toward this total. It is within my authority to extend the minimum by up to 10 sessions of my own volition, and I can submit a report requesting to have them extended further if need be. Do you three understand this?"

 

Naomi nodded, and her friends did as well. 52 sessions of what Claire had done to Marion earlier...oh God.

 

"Are there any questions about the disciplinary sessions themselves?" Claire asked.

 

This time, Marion's hand immediately shot up. Naomi noticed a frown form on Claire's face, but the Omega permitted her to speak.

 

"What are you going to do to us during them?"

 

"Oh, any number of things," Claire replied. "Maybe I use you as a stress ball for a while. Maybe you keep my toes company while I go out for a little walk. Maybe I drum on you for a bit, see how far I can flick you. The general idea, if you haven't caught on, is to treat you exactly how you seem to believe you can treat a Beta. Hopefully the shared experience will be enlightening to you."

 

Naomi gulped at those last two statements. One thing Claire had done was keep a consistent, commanding tone...that had changed there. Those statements were soaked in venom.

 

Stephanie's hand suddenly went up beside her.

 

"What if you kill us?"

 

The thought got a wince out of Naomi.

 

"I won't," Claire replied, her voice back to normal. Stephanie didn't seem to want to question her further on that statement, and Naomi certainly didn't. She could only guess that Marion agreed as Claire continued.

 

"If there's nothing else, I'm going to move on. I mentioned earlier that you will have the opportunity to eliminate a portion of your disciplinary sessions. This is done through astounding performance in your rehabilitation work. You will perform this work for 36 hours each month. The work can be anything from community service to lessons on Beta history and race relations that I cover myself. I highly recommend putting forth the effort to convince me that I can trust you with community service, because it is almost impossible to not get a good review from your supervisors compared to earning the equivalent grade on my tests. You want these good reviews because every two will lesson your sessions by one. While these do not apply during the first month as I spend it evaluating you to determine what I trust you to do, this can ultimately reduce your sessions from 52 to 28. Don't blow that opportunity. Any questions?"

 

Nothing this time. That was pleasantly straight-forward, and Naomi's mood lightened somewhat at the realization that she could get out of some of those sessions, potentially just through helping people. That sounded...nice.

 

"Well then, let's finish this up," Claire said. "Ideally, you will complete my plan in 52 weeks. After that initial period, your progress will be reviewed, and you will either be released on parole or we will continue our time together. During this time, you will be living here, with me. So let me show you your new quarters."

 

Naomi watched as Claire's hand returned to the dresser, and couldn't help but smirk as Marion flinched at it's arrival. The platform-like hand landed palm-up, accompanied by a command from it's owner to hop on. Naomi was the first one on, crawling over the edge of the palm and into the center, turning around to face her friends as she sat with her legs crossed. Both were looking at her, eyes wide as they slowly joined her on the hand, crowding the palm as they sat down next to each other. Were they surprised at how casual she had been in getting on? She didn't see any reason why it should have been a big deal...Claire wasn't going to hurt them for doing what she asked. Besides, the hand was warm, and far softer than that dresser had been.

 

Naomi suddenly felt gravity pushing against her as Claire stood from her seat, pulling her occupied hand close to her abdomen as she did so. A glance upward revealed nothing to Naomi beyond a blue ceiling of fabric, the underside of her holder's bust. A pivot from their host brought the rest of the room into view for the first time.

 

It was...spartan, was the best term Naomi could think of to describe it. Directly behind where Claire had been sitting was her bed, neatly made, the covers a solid blue. A nightstand to the side of it, a tablet, alarm clock, and lamp residing on it.

 

What really caught her attention as she surveyed the room were the three identical terrariums lined up against the far wall, parallel to the bed and seemingly setting atop black plastic platforms.. Her curiosity was rewarded, as Claire began walking straight to them. As the distance decreased, Naomi got much better looks at them.

 

She was able to make out a bed on the left side of each one, the sheets and pillows a uniform white, accompanied by a nightstand and lamp. And was that an exercise bike to the right of each one? Further study also revealed a toilet and shower....but no walls to provide any privacy. That was going to take some getting used to. Thankfully, the last thing she noticed as Claire finished her short journey was that a black partition had been inserted between the separate tanks, presumably to prevent the girls from looking in on each other.

 

Naomi's attention was rattled as Claire suddenly knelt down, and it felt as if her stomach was about to rise up and out of her mouth. As she recovered, she saw Claire's free hand enter her field of vision and home in on her. Steeling herself for the impending grasp, she had to take a moment to once again appreciate the surprising tenderness of the Enforcer as she was gently surrounded by her fingers and lifted off her palm for the short trip into the middle terrarium.

 

The first thing she noticed upon being placed down was that the black platform she saw was actually part of the cell's floor. She briefly wondered what it was used for, before something else caught her attention.

 

Claire was kneeling down right in front of her terrarium, giving Naomi a clear view of her lower body for the first time since she had first grabbed them off the street. She had been wearing sweatpants then, but now she was wearing white shorts that extended only a few inches beyond her crotch, leaving her toned, tanned legs completely visible.

 

There was no way this woman didn't work out regularly, Naomi thought.

 

Looking up, she watched as Claire placed the remaining two girls into their own enclosures, though she couldn't tell who went where. She finished up by reaching down the the black base, and Naomi heard the click of a button. Immediately, a field of soft, translucent light formed at the top of her tank. Was that some sort of force field?

 

"Alright, girls," Claire announced, clapping her hands to get their attention."I'm about to head out for a little while. I suggest all of you attempt to get some sleep. We're going to have a busy day tomorrow, and you will find it much easier if you're well rested. If you're not sleepy, the exercise bikes are there for your use. I've also supplied each of you with a tablet, located in the drawers of your nightstands. Do not expect to do much on them. They are there to give you access to a fairly substantial library of books, and nothing more. It will not be replaced if you break it. Feel free to take a shower if you wish, the base you stand on recycles and purifies the water you use. It does recycle the water for showers and the toilet separately, so don't worry about that."

 

Claire seemed to look at each of them in turn before continuing.

 

"I will be back by dinner time, and will insure that you are fed upon my return. Does anyone have any questions before I go?"

 

Naomi was about to shake her head no, but she suddenly had an idea.

 

"Miss Lindon!" she called. No response, though her warden seemed to be scanning the three rooms. "Miss Lindon!" she called again as she saw Claire's eyes scan over her. The woman raised a curious eyebrow before her eyes went wide with a look of sudden realization.

 

"Oops," she stated, and Naomi heard another button press at the base of the platform. "Forgot to turn the noise dampener off. You had a question, Naomi?"

 

"Yes, ma'am!" Naomi started. "I..um...do you know how the man we..."

 

Deep breaths.

 

"Do you know how the man we attacked is doing?"

 

Claire gave her a small smile before replying.

 

"He's conscious now, Naomi, and is in recovery. He has a very long road ahead of him."

 

Naomi sulked. It...wasn't any worse than what she was expecting, but she had hoped for a better report, even if it was unrealistic to do so.

 

"Did you know," Claire suddenly continued, her voice losing it's calm, confident tone as it shifted to a more reflective quality, "that he was in his last year at medical school? At the top of his class, even. Was here visiting his family during the holidays. He was looking so forward to helping people, but...I guess that's going to have to be put on hold."

 

There was a moment of silence as Claire looked away for a moment and Naomi processed that information. She didn't think she could feel worse about what she had done, but that was apparently false.

 

"Miss Lindon?" she called up suddenly. Claire shifted her gaze back to her.

 

"Yes?" she responded.

 

"If you can somehow pass a message along...before I have the chance to...could you please let him know that I'm sorry? I want to tell him myself someday but...I just want him to know," Naomi said, voice wavering. Claire gave her another soft smile.

 

"Of course, little one," she said. "I think he would love to hear it."

 

Naomi was ecstatic.

 

"Thank you!" she called up.

 

"Funnily enough," Claire piped up, "I was actually about to pay him a visit right now. That's good timing you have there, Naomi."

 

Naomi gave her a wide smile, before something suddenly occurred to her, and that smile melted away into a pit in her stomach.

 

An Omega couldn't visit a Beta in the hospital. It was simply impossible, Beta hospitals weren't meant to house Alphas or Omegas. Alpha hospitals didn't accept them, and Omegas didn't have hospitals.

 

The only way Claire could be visiting that victim was if a Chamber was involved...and that meant a mixed relationship somewhere.

 

Naomi suddenly recalled how, when this woman had found them assaulting the man, she had seemed to have been looking for something in the area. She would have had to have been focusing her eyesight already to even see that they were assaulting a Beta.

 

And she seemed to know a little bit more about the victim than she would expect.

 

Oh, God.

 

"Miss Lindon?" she called up once again, her voice suddenly weak and desperate.

 

"Is something wrong, Naomi?" Claire asked in response, a twinge of concern present. "Your voice seems off."

 

"Why are you going to visit him?"

 

The question had been blunt, and the air seemed to hang thick between the two as they simply stared at each other in silence for a moment.

 

The first answer Naomi got was another smile spreading across Claire's lips...but this smile was different from it's predecessors. This one resulted in the giant woman baring her teeth at the little woman below.

 

"You're a sharp one, aren't you?" Claire eventually responded. The unnerving smile remained.

 

Slowly, she began to stand up, and Naomi backed away out of reflex as the woman stood to her full height, resting her hands on her hips. Naomi had only seen a standing Omega from the ground once before, and that time she'd had no chance to really process the size disparity.

 

Not so, this time. This, Naomi realized as she gazed up at the towering woman in front of her, was how she looked to a Beta. It was not comforting. It was not helped by Claire's next words.

 

"Why am I visiting him?" she repeated, a hint of mockery in her voice. That awful, predatory smile vanished as she narrowed her eyes.

 

"Why wouldn't I visit my big brother while he recovers? Especially when he's just a few rooms away?"

 

Naomi slumped to her knees immediately. She had no idea how to respond to that. She doubted her voice would work even if she did.

 

"I advise doing as I suggested earlier," Claire called from what now seemed like miles above to Naomi. "We do have a long day tomorrow."

 

And with that, the Omega left, her footfalls thundering in the distance before vanishing.

 

Naomi sat in silence. It had happened again. Every time she felt comforted by the woman's actions, she did something else to set her on edge all over again.

 

Some time later, Naomi heard Marion's voice emanate from the enclosure to the right of her.

 

"Told you she was going to kill us."

 

 Chambers were amazing things, Corey Lindon decided.

 

Barely a day ago he had been a mangled mess that the paramedics had barely been able to touch. Yet now, here he was...still kind of a mangled mess, but at least feeling a lot better. And getting better, but that was going to take a while even with the Chamber's capabilities.

 

God, but this thing was great. It was like having an entire hospital's resources there for him...but in bed form. Well, maybe not bed form. More of large metal capsule that happened to include "being a bed" as one it's many functions.

 

"And a comfy one at that," he muttered.

 

Of course, it did much more important things than give him a good place to sleep. IVs, nutrient management, painkillers, the works. It constantly kept track of his vitals, and even sent them to the nearest hospital if something looked off.

 

More importantly, though, were the chemical baths. Those were what made the Chamber into a little miracle machine. A daily soak, during which the Chamber would close completely into it's full capsule form and flood itself with the mysterious neon green liquid, and there wasn't much it couldn't take care of. Injuries or illness, it could heal pretty much anything eventually, without need for any sort of surgery. He wasn't sure how it worked, or even what it actually was (though he learned long ago that this was a recurring theme with anything supplied by the Omegas), but fuck if it wasn't effective...even if he could barely stay awake for an hour after bathing in it.

 

With the Chamber currently being in it's exposed state (essentially a pill cut roughly in half) after his most recent bath, he was able to elevate his bed to be level with the Chamber's rim. Corey preferred this, as it actually allowed him to look at the room surrounding him. There wasn't too much to look at that he wasn't already familiar with. He knew his Chamber had been placed on the desk in his step-mother's study, a place he'd been in countless times over the years. More importantly, it let him take a look at the tan, ridged wall that was parked within arm's reach to the left side of of his bed and dwarfed the twenty foot tall chamber by another ten feet. He couldn't help but smile.

 

That was the best part about the Chamber: It let him recover with his family.

 

Looking down at his wetsuit-clad body, Corey made a quick check of the safety equipment. His shattered arm was secured safely to his chest, and his bum leg to the bed. The general safety belt across his midsection was good to go, as well.

 

Taking another look at the "wall," Corey couldn't help but laugh a little at his step-sister. They'd been a family for fifteen years, since he was 9 and she 5, and some things never changed. No doubt Claire thought of her finger as acting as some sort of guardian over him, it's mere presence acting as both assurance of his safety and a promise of harm against anything that would jeopardize that.

 

She was such a sweet girl. Silly, but sweet, and he was proud of the young woman she had become.

 

Lifting his left arm, he carefully placed it on the guarding finger and began gently stroking the ridges of Claire's fingertip.

 

"Hmmm?" boomed a voice far above him. A soft boom, but still a boom.

 

Corey was always amazed at the incredible sensitivity of a being about three thousand feet taller than him. He held no illusions about how he compared to his little sister on the physical side of things. Being as kind to himself as possible, she may as well be a goddess, and he a mortal dependent on her blessing solely to exist. The fact that a light touch from him could fetch her attention felt like divine providence at times.

 

Of course, Claire didn't really care about that side of things. All it meant to her was added responsibility. As far as she was concerned, he was a person just like her. He had desires and dreams, things he enjoyed and things he didn't, people he loved and outcomes he feared. These were all things they shared, and that was all Claire needed.

 

As a shadow enveloped him, he looked up only to be greeted by Claire's descending face, a comforting smile on her face and her soft brown eyes locked directly onto him. He gave her a smile of his own and a wave. Her smile widened a bit, her lips parting to reveal teeth that each individually dwarfed him, and dwarfed him easily. It was honestly the only thing that still made him a little nervous these days, but he would never tell his sister that. She had a wonderful smile, and he didn't want her to limit it over something so silly.

 

Her descent eventually halted a few hundred feet above him, her face now all that was visible. Corey moved his good hand over to his right ear. Finding the Voice Tag attached to his earlobe, he gave it a quick squeeze and felt a small jolt pass through his head as it activated. He had some questions

 

"What were you up to?" he asked, the amplification field now present around his mouth allowing his voice to be carried up to his sister's ears.

 

"Reading," Claire replied, her tone chipper and her voice softened by the tag's dampening field. Thundering, but not deafening. "Figured it was the quietest thing I could do in here."

 

"I meant while you were away."

 

His sister's pool-sized eyes narrowed at that, her favorite intimidation tactic. Too bad that stopped working on him when she was 7, and he narrowed his own eyes in response, knowing that she could see every detail.

 

"Don't you narrow your eyes at me. Oughta poke them right out," he said, voice deadly serious. A giggle thundered above him as Claire's eyes widened back to normal.

 

"You've been making that threat for thirteen years, big brother," Claire said with a smile. "Sooner or later I'm going to have to stop taking you seriously on it."

 

A random passerby might have thought she was mocking him with that term, but Corey knew it was quite the opposite. They had their fun sniping at each other, but she had always used that title earnestly. It was a term of endearment, one she would occasionally use if she felt that she might have intimidated him with a comment or action. It was rarely actually needed, particularly in this case, but it was appreciated. He wanted to smile, but he wanted to stay committed to his bravado a bit more.

 

"You're just lucky I'm stuck in bed!" he yelled up. "I'd climb right up and do it this time if I could!"

 

Claire arched a massive eyebrow at this, a playful smirk on her lips.

 

"Aw," she cooed, "then what kind of sister would I be if I didn't give my brother a hand in his time of need?"

 

Before Corey could properly register the movement, his sister's face was already nearly upon him, and he watched in a daze as one of her brown eyes quickly took up his field of vision, becoming larger and larger until stopping within arm's reach above him.

 

"Well?" Claire's voice boomed, louder than it had been before.

 

The only thing Corey could do in response was shiver, and Claire's face began to retreat the moment of the first twitch. Her smirk was gone now, her face tinged with concern.

 

"Corey, I'm so sorry," she uttered, almost at a whisper for her. "I didn't think...are you okay? If you want me to leave for a bit, I'd understand."

 

"It's fine, Claire," he croaked, breathing heavily, causing mild discomfort in his chest. "It's fine. You're fine. I just need a moment."

 

Claire pursed her lips above him, nodding in response but continuing to watch over him.

 

She really hadn't done anything wrong. That kind of joke was normal between them, and Corey knew that she would never, ever hurt him. This particular joke was simply ill-timed, given the circumstances. His memories of the assault were still fresh, and seeing such a large object descending on him so quickly...it hadn't been good for him.

 

"Can I pick you up?" Claire suddenly asked, her tone pleading.

 

Corey simply looked up at her for a moment, considering the request. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected her to eventually ask, but he was still somewhat shaken up.

 

"Go ahead," he finally answered. "I'm nice and secure."

 

Claire gave him a sad smile, and he watched as the fingertip that had been keeping him company repositioned itself to the head of the Chamber. Soon after, he marked the arrival of his sister's thumb at the foot. A light shake marked the digit impacting his bed, and he felt another impact behind him.

 

"Here we go," Claire announced, and Corey felt the capsule being lifted off the desk it had been sitting on.

 

He couldn't help but take in the scale of Claire's body as she lifted him up and began drawing him in closer to herself. It wasn't really any detail about her that caught his eye, she was just so...massive. It wasn't intimidating or scary anymore, but it was always an experience to take in a living, breathing landscape of a person. To know that the attention of such a being was focused squarely on him, that he was the most important thing in the world to her in that moment.

 

Honestly, it was a hell of a pick-me-up to have that kind of support.

 

Corey saw his intended destination well before he actually arrived there, since it was the most frequent place Claire would deposit him to talk. The elbow of her left arm, itself the length of a skyscraper, rested on the armrest of the office chair upon which she sat, her closed fist held straight up and near level with her eyes. His container quickly closed in on his sister's hand, and ultimately found itself deposited gently in the space between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers.

 

"Everything okay?' Claire asked, keeping her voice low as she pulled her fingers away from the Chamber.

 

"Perfectly," Corey responded. "As gentle as always." It was also much nicer to look her in the eyes from a few hundred feet away instead of from a few hundred feet below, but that was the whole point of the transfer.

 

Claire hated looking down on him during conversations. It was something she had realized back when she was in her teens, when her worldview had started to grow and mature into what it was now. It was one thing to tower over him during short little exchanges, but actual conversation...she felt it was dehumanizing to him. That it actively set a hierarchy in their relationship, having him be literally talked down to by his god-like sibling. She didn't want that, and it was something they had talked about frequently during that time in their lives.

 

"Are you feeling any better? After having a chance at a few baths, I mean," Claire said.

 

"A lot, honestly," Corey responded. "Though it's honestly hard to tell if that's the bath or the painkillers."

 

He heard Claire's tongue click beyond her lips. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say. This probably wasn't going to be either.

 

"You still haven't answered my question," he remarked. Claire simply grunted, but she at least gave something up this time.

 

"A lot of things. I was up to a lot of things," she stated curtly.

 

"Such as?"

 

His sister scowled this time, but finally started to open up.

 

"I went to the Facility to process those girls and pick up a few things. I also talked to Mom and Dad."

 

"Are they going to be able come home?" Corey asked, hopefully. He hadn't seen either in a while, and was hoping for the opportunity during the holiday break.

 

Claire gave a rueful shake of her head.

 

"No. Dad is dealing with a viral outbreak out in the jungle somewhere. He wishes he could be here, and sends his best but...he said he just can't leave that many people. Apparently they're really short on trained staff."

 

Corey was understanding of that. His dad was a doctor, and frankly everything he himself aspired to be. He'd have been disappointed if his father had left people who needed him, honestly.

 

"And Mom?" he inquired.

 

Claire sighed at this one, a cool minty breeze flowing from between her lips and washing gently over him.

 

"Before I tell you," she started, "you have to promise that this stays between us. You've been given clearance to know this because of the circumstances, but you can't share it."

 

This was new, Corey thought. He'd been privy to a few things over the years that the general population wasn't aware of due to his step-mom and sister being Omegas, but there had never been any sort of stipulation attached attached to it before.

 

"Corey," his sister stated, her tone shifting to one of commandment, "do you understand that? I need to hear you say that you do."

 

He couldn't say he cared for the tone, but one look at Claire's face assuaged his annoyance. Her tone may have been commanding, but her eyes were pleading. Whatever the reason for this, it was clear that she wanted him to take the stipulation seriously.

 

"I do," he answered.

 

"Good," Claire answered, another minty breeze washing over Corey as she sighed once again. "The truth is, she's being held close as part of Dr. Everett's research team. They're working on something really, really important and Mom can't leave while they're in the middle of testing. Mom wanted me to tell you that she loves you, and that she'll check up on you as much as she can. She hopes your recovery goes smoothly."

 

Corey found that...disappointing, but he was also in a slight amount of awe. Dr. Everett was the Omega. The original Omega. She basically ran Aegis. If Dr. Everett wanted her to stay, Corey wasn't sure how much choice his mom had in the matter. That said...

 

"That doesn't really sound any more important than anything you've shared with me before," he responded.

 

"That's not the classified part," Claire answered. "Dr. Everett also sends her regards, along with an apology for keeping Mom away. She hopes you get better soon, and that what they're working on will provide the final incentive needed to prevent incidents like yours from happening again."

 

Well that was something. Corey hadn't expected to be acknowledged by arguably the most powerful person in the world when he woke up today. His interest in that new "incentive" was certainly piqued, though, and he wanted to hear more. Looking Claire in the eye, he began to put on his best puppy-dog face.

 

"No," she stated immediately.

 

Shit.

 

"You didn't even let me ask!" he whined.

 

"I didn't need to," she remarked with a grin. "That's all you had clearance to know, and we won't be discussing it further."

 

"Oh, come on! That was barely anything to go on!"

 

"Yet it's more than anyone else shorter than me knows. Be happy with that," she replied.

 

"Fine," Corey conceded, turning away from his sister for a few minutes. He glanced down at his body, at his arm and leg.

 

"Then tell me what happened to those girls," he remarked, still focusing on his injured limbs.

 

Claire didn't reply, and as seconds turned into minutes, Corey began to doubt that she would. Slowly turning to face her once again, he didn't have to play pitiful this time.

 

"Please," he begged, and his sister immediately winced. She broke eye contact for a moment, sighing as she did so. Eventually she turned back to him.

 

"They were processed into my custody," she said. "I just finished with their orientation. They're in my room right now."

 

Corey's blood froze, and he quickly turned away from his sister. They were here...at his home? They should have been far away from him, with some other Omega. Their faces passed through his mind as he remembered them towering above him, surrounding him and blocking any chance of escape. He remembered the look in each girl's eyes as they looked down upon him. The redhead just wanted to hurt someone, and she seemed to feel that it was his place to satiate that desire. The brunette...she just didn't care about him. Her friends wanted to play with him, and she felt so little for him that she joined without a second thought. He was a momentary curiosity, nothing more.

 

The Asian girl had scared him the most. Forget her eyes, the girl had exuded ecstasy from every fiber of her being at finding him out alone. He recalled her licking her lips in anticipation as she had knelt down, her eyes locked hungrily onto him as her hand approached and eventually entrapped him.

 

He fought back the primal urge to shake. He wanted to know more, and Claire would end this conversation immediately if she saw that reaction.

 

"Why you? And how long?"

 

"I was curious about that as well," she started. "Apparently Dr. Everett overrode the initial choice for their warden and gave them to me. Said something about it being a good first charge for me."

 

Corey frowned. That sounded strange, to say the least. There was such an obvious conflict of interest there...what was Everett thinking?

 

"As for how long," Claire continued, "their minimum sentencing period was for 52 disciplinary sessions, so they will be here for 52 weeks at the least. Potentially longer, if they mess up."

 

"Think any of them will?" Corey asked, finally turning back to face her.

 

"The redhead, Marion, would be my leading bet," she responded. "I already had to discipline her once on my own for throwing a little tantrum. Nice little shot to her stomach with my middle finger."

 

Corey wished he had been there to see that.

 

"One of them asked me to pass a message along, by the way."

 

What? What would one of those girls possibly have to say to him? Some mocking threat? A desperate promise get him in retaliation for their sentence?

 

"And what would what be?" he asked, voice deadpan.

 

"She wanted me to let you know that she was sorry. And that she wanted to tell you that herself someday," Claire somberly replied. "It was Naomi, the Asian girl, that wanted to me to tell you that."

 

Corey didn't know how to process that. He hadn't been expecting an apology to begin with, but hearing that it came from the assailant that had taken the most joy in torturing him? What the fuck?

 

"Do you think she's sincere?" he found himself asking.

 

"I do," Claire replied, a hint of..was that softness in her voice? "Everything I've seen and heard from her indicates genuine remorse at what she did to you. I think she's honestly ashamed of what she did, and she even had a little fight with her companions over their attitudes. And God, you should have seen her bawl her eyes out when I went over your injuries..."

 

"Well how about that," he muttered, and paused for a moment to yawn. "Can you tell her thanks for me?"

 

"I can," Claire replied. "Are you ready to take a nap? You've been looking really tired the last few minutes."

 

He actually was starting to feel worn out. Looked like that bath was starting to catch up to him.

 

"I think I'd like that, yeah," he said, another yawn following.

 

Claire gave him a smile, and the thumb and forefinger of her free hand returned to pluck up his Chamber from between her knuckles. He drowsily watched her body move further and further away from him as she gradually returned his bed to where it had been. Soon after it touched down and her fingers retreated, he watched as Claire's face began to descend upon him quickly once again. He knew what this was, though, and the thought of panicking didn't even cross his mind as he eventually found the tip of her nose hovering slightly above him.

 

It was their little method of an affectionate hug, and had been since they were children. Under more normal circumstances, Corey would actually give the tip of her nose a hug while Claire would gingerly stroke his back. That wasn't quite doable this time, so Corey simply stroked the nose before returning his hand to his side and making himself comfortable.

 

"Have a nice nap, big brother," Claire whispered as her face began to withdraw, a tender smile on her lips. "I'm so glad you're okay."

 

Corey muttered a sleepy "thank you" and was about to turn his voice tag off, when a thought suddenly came to mind.

 

"Claire?" he called out, catching his sister's attention just before she pulled away entirely.

 

"Mmmhmm?" she thundered.

 

"Please watch yourself when you handle those girls, sis," he said. "I don't like what Dr. Everett did. I think she had a reason for it. Please don't let your personal feelings affect how you treat them. Just do what you need to do."

 

Claire looked at him for a moment, a look of confusion on her face.

 

"Alright," she replied. "I'll endeavor to treat them fairly. Now get some sleep. And remember, if you need anything, I'm just a button press a-"

 

Claire suddenly paused, a look of annoyance on her face.

 

"What's wrong?" Corey asked.

 

"I forgot to pick up some fucking clothes for them."

 

Corey couldn't help but snort.

 

"Feel free to go get them. I'm going to pass out any minute, so I won't need anything for a while,"he said, nuzzling into his bed. "Turning my tag off now."

 

His hand didn't even reach his ear before he nodded off, and Claire suppressed a giggle as she softly exited the room.

 Naomi couldn't help but lick her lips as she looked down at the tiny redhead standing on her desk, her little eyes staring up in awe at her massive friend.

 

"N-Naomi?" Marion stuttered, clearly confused by this sudden predicament. "What's going on?Why are you an Omega?"

 

"Oh, that's not really important, little Marion," Naomi replied, her voice husky. "Things are just going my way for once."

 

As a light whimper escaped Marion's lips, Naomi couldn't contain herself anymore, her lips parting into a toothy grin. Bringing her right hand to bear against her miniscule friend, fingers wiggling in anticipation of gripping their quarry, Naomi had to stifle a moan.

 

"As if," Marion stated, her confidence suddenly back, her composure regained as if it had never been lost. Naomi found that her hand suddenly stopped, and no matter how much she willed it, she couldn't move it another inch.

 

Marion laughed.

 

"God, you're pathetic!" Marion said, pointing at Naomi's frozen body as her laughter continued. "Even at the size of that bitch, you can't do shit to me!"

 

Marion began to strut toward Naomi's hand, her left hand raised. Marion's tiny hand eventually met with Naomi's palm, but she continued to move forward, To Naomi's shock, she found that Marion was pushing her arm back a bit with every small step.

 

"I was right, wasn't I?" the tiny girl questioned, teeth bared, still slowly pushing Naomi's hand back as she continued her march. "Your stupid brain did rot, didn't it? It fucking must have if you thought you could ever stand up to me, to think you would ever have any power over me."

 

All Naomi could do was stare, mouth agape. Why was this happening? How was Marion able to do this?

 

"Because this is your place," Marion seemed to answer. "Just like this. Doing what I will you to do, and nothing else. You're a leech, Naomi, and that's all you'll ever be. I took you in during middle school because you were the prettiest girl in class, and I wanted you as an accessory. I had daddy buy you your first car, because it pleased me to see you so thankful. I'll send you through college right there with me, because we both know you won't be able to go otherwise. That's you in a nutshell, you stupid bitch. Completely dependent on other people to lead you through life, incapable of ever truly doing anything for yourself."

 

"But that's why people like me exist isn't it Naomi?" the arrogant redhead asked. "To guide pitiful little people like you into a life of some meaning. Even if that meaning is to serve as an extension of me."

 

Marion had reached the edge of the desk now, having pushed Naomi's arm fully beyond the threshold. Naomi wanted to respond, to tell her that she was wrong, but...why bother lying? Marion was right. She really couldn't do anything for herself. She couldn't accomplish anything. She wasn't smart like Marion. Her family wasn't well-off like Marion's. Her life may as well be defined solely by her relationship to the girl. The only thing she had really had any control over in years had been...

 

"That Beta trash," Marion answered again. "God, wasn't that great, Naomi? To find someone more pathetic than you are, helpless and alone, no way at all to stop you from doing what you wanted? Of course, that just shows how pathetic you are, doesn't it? That the only thing you've ever been able to take for yourself is some three-inch tall trash that's more pet than person!"

 

Naomi had begun to cry, her warm tears streaming down her cheeks as she continued to endure Marion's verbal tirade. She was pathetic, wasn't she? She had to be. Only a pathetic person would see a such a small, helpless figure out for a jog as something to make herself feel better. Something that existed in that moment solely for her. Something to overpower and entrap, to tease and mock.

 

To hurt and break. Because he didn't have the power to stop her, and she had wanted the little guy to know that. To understand that.

 

"Aw, what's wrong with my sweet, stupid Naomi?" Marion suddenly cooed from below, her voice saccharine, a look of false tenderness upon her face. "Did I make you feel bad? Well, I can't have that, now can I? You lose so much beauty when you pout, girl! I can't leave you like that, it's all you have! So, I'll tell you what..."

 

Marion's little arms suddenly reached out, finding Naomi's still frozen thumb and gripping onto it. Slowly, Marion began to backpedal, dragging Naomi's hand back across the threshold of the desk as Naomi could only watch in confusion until Marion suddenly halted and flung herself fully onto Naomi's thumb, grasping it in a tight hug.

 

"Why don't you just go ahead and whatever it was you were wanting to do earlier?" she said, looking up to Naomi with a wide grin. "I'll let you do it, whatever you want. My treat."

 

Naomi didn't have to be told twice. Her arm had become mobile again immediately after Marion had finished, and a quick tilt of of her hand had the intended effect of scooping Marion right up into her palm, the massive thumb rolling her until her body rested lengthwise across her fingers. The thumb pinned her down onto the four digits as Naomi simply glared.

 

"Not wasting any time, huh?" Marion remarked with a giggle, some strain present in her voice due to the soft appendage pressing into her chest. Marion simply hugged it tighter. "That's good, Naomi! Now, what do you want me to do? Wiggle around? Beg you to reconsider? Oh, I know! I bet you want me to talk about how great and strong you are!"

 

Naomi considered her for a moment, her lips pursed. She considered those options, and a few more, but every time her mind drifted back to one option she found particularly appealing.

 

"I want you to scream."

 

"Oh!" Marion exclaimed. "I can do that. If you're willing to work for it, anyway," she said with a smirk and an idle stroke of Naomi's thumb.

 

"I think I can manage," Naomi spat, her lips curling into a snarl. Ripping her thumb from Marion's grasp, she quickly brought it back down onto her stomach, eliciting a wretch from the smaller girl, and nothing more.

 

"Gonna need to do a bit better, hon," Marion said, still with that same stupid smirk.

 

Naomi gritted her teeth, her eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. She retracted and brought down her thumb again, receiving nothing more than a giggle in response. Grunting in frustration, Naomi lifted her thumb up and down, up and down, each blow becoming steadily harder as her anger grew with each ineffective strike. It didn't matter how hard she struck the little girl, or how often. Marion simply continued to grin up at her after recovering. Naomi was getting flustered, and it was showing. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing labored. Why would she not just fucking scream?

 

"I think you might want to try something different," Marion croaked up at her, extending her right arm and swinging it back and forth.

 

"So much to choose from," she started again, "and you just. Keep. Going. For the same ole' thing."

 

Naomi pinched the waving arm between thumb and forefinger, halting that annoying waving. The little sing-song voice Marion had used for that last little bit hadn't gone over well with her, either.

 

"Oh, that might be a good choice!" Marion called up, smiling wide to show off her teeth. "Might get a good scream from that!"

 

"Then let's find out."

 

Naomi pinched her fingers, a crunching sound emanating from the limb. She watched with carnal anticipation as Marion's eyes went wide, her lips partings as if in slow motion.

 

"Here it comes," she thought, lips curling into a smile as she readied herself.

 

It disappeared as soon as the scream reached her ears. That wasn't Marion's voice, and it wasn't Marion in her hand anymore. It was Claire's brother, wailing in pain, tears streaming from his eyes as he held his shattered arm.

 

***************************

 

"No!" Naomi screamed as her eyes slammed open, a cold sweat permeating her body as it trembled. Staring at the wall of her enclosure, she pulled her pillow out from under her head and brought it in for a tight hug against her body.

 

Within a second she felt something push against her back, slowly rubbing back and forth. Naomi froze, holding her breath.

 

"Bad dream, little one?" a voice asked from above.

 

Oh, God.

 

Naomi slowly turned her vision upward and toward the front of her enclosure. Sure enough, Claire was kneeling there, the Omega's toned arm outstretched in her direction as she slowly massaged her back. Her face was unreadable.

 

"I'm sorry," Naomi found herself saying, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry. It wasn't supposed to be him..."

 

Claire's neutrality broke for just a moment, a mix of confusion and compassion briefly expressed on her face, but that passed quickly.

 

"Come on, Naomi," she said, "it's time to get up. I have a lot to go through today, so we need to get started. I want you to take a shower and use the bathroom, then change into the wetsuit that's in your cupboard. None of this is optional. Especially the bathroom thing."

 

Her tone brooked no room for argument.

 

"What are we doing?" Naomi asked nervously, still clutching her pillow tightly

 

"Your first disciplinary session," Claire deadpanned. "Now get up. I'm going to go get a drink and file a report, so be ready in twenty-five minutes or I will discipline you further."

 

The massaging digit gave one last rub before the arm returned to the side of it's owner. Naomi watched as Claire rose to her full height, and couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be in workout attire of form-fitting spandex shorts and a black tank.

 

She didn't have time to loiter or take in the sights, though. Despite feeling like she had woken up from one nightmare into another, the fear of prolonging whatever...experience Claire had planned motivated her to roll out of bed and scurry to get ready.

 

Claire returned twenty-five minutes later, right on the dot. Naomi let out an eep as Claire unceremoniously snatched her up without a word, bringing her up to her nose and taking a sniff, the suction pulling lightly at Naomi's hair.

 

"Good, nice and clean it seems," she commented, bringing Naomi down in front of her chest after her little inspection. "Wetsuit's on, too. Did you use the bathroom?"

 

"I-I did," Naomi said. She could feel her face blushing at the rather embarrassing question. In addition to it just kind of being a personal matter, it felt like Claire was treating her like a child she had to check behind as they readied for a trip.

 

"Alright, I suppose we should get started," Claire stated from above, and she watched her free hand head to the base of the enclosures. Three rapid clicks followed, and Naomi's attention was caught by the glass on the enclosures seemingly fogging up all at once, to such a degree that every inch was a thick, solid white. Naomi couldn't help but look up at Claire in confusion.

 

"It's a bit of a blinding feature," the giant woman stated in response. "The enclosures aren't actually made out of glass. It's like glass in feel and texture, but send a little pulse of energy through it and...well, this happens. Stays like this for about two hours, assuming I don't send a counter-pulse through it."

 

"In any case," she continued, "your friends can't see us, and the sound dampeners make sure they can't hear us. I prefer for these little sessions to be private, but keep in mind that I'm not required to do so. This is a courtesy, one I will strip away in a heartbeat if given reason to. Is that understood?"

 

"Yes, ma'am" Naomi confirmed with haste. She felt pressed to answer as quickly and, more importantly, as affirmatively as possible.

 

"Good. Now," Claire started, beginning to rise to her feet, fingers firmly gripping her smaller charge so that only her head was popping. Naomi found herself being lifted up as well, passing the larger woman's chest and neck before being brought to a halt before her large, plush lips. "Let's get down to business."

 

The Omega's lips parted, and a shiver shot down Naomi's spine as a large pink mass slipped between them, it's surface thick and wet with saliva. She didn't even have time to scream before it quickly darted out, the tip of Claire's tongue impacting her square in the face. Naomi closed her eyes as she felt it begin to probe around, the hot, sticky muscle slowly tracing over her face, coating it in saliva.

 

Naomi felt the tongue suddenly retract from her head, paired with a loosening of Claire's grip. Now lying in Claire's flattened palm, her first reaction was to bring an arm to her face, wiping away the sticky saliva from her eyes as she opened them.

 

Her next reaction was to scream as she watched a little over three feet of pink, slimy tongue come toward her, the surface slowly lapping across her shins and moving up her body. The organ was not being particularly gentle, and Naomi found that it firmly pressed her body into the soft, firm skin of the palm that held her as it passed over. Naomi had watched in fearful awe as it ran over her body, the rough feeling of Claire's tastebuds against her exposed shins thankfully coming to an end as it came into contact with her wetsuit. That relief was short-lived, however, as the tongue showed no signs of stopping it's advance as it began to crest her breasts.

 

Out of reflex, she lifted her arms in an attempt to halt the advancing muscle. She could only whimper as it effortlessly rolled over arms, pressing them down into her chest and coating them in it's signature trail of spittle. The only resistance she had left was to close her eyes and turn her head to the side, flinching as she felt the tongue begin to drag along the side of her face and press on her even harder than it had previously been. Soon enough, she felt the tongue leave her again, another drop of saliva dripping down on her face as an apparent farewell present.

 

"Did you know..." Claire suddenly remarked, a minty breeze cascading over Naomi as she spoke, chilling the saliva that now covered the smaller girl.

 

"Did you know that Alphas used to actually eat Betas?"

 

Naomi's eyes surged open at this, a prayer on her mind that this wasn't leading to her immediate instinct.

 

Claire had seemingly been waiting for this, and the massive tongue was suddenly on her again. It had eschewed the rest of her body this time, immediately coming into contact with the side of her face, pushing it into the soft palm underneath once again while it's surface passed over Naomi's peripheral vision.

 

"They did, you know," Claire continued. "Apparently they felt that was simply the food chain at work..."

 

The tongue arrived again, this time delivering another full-body lick before departing.

 

"...that the Betas were there to satiate them..."

 

No lick followed Claire's monotone this time. The tongue simply shot straight out of her mouth, even faster than it had the first time, delivering a blow right into the side of Naomi's head. The smaller girl felt as if she had just been decked.

 

"...to serve them..."

 

Another blow from the titaness's tongue.

 

"...whatever the need."

 

One last shot, this time into her abdomen, knocked the wind out of the little girl.

 

"Of course, that was one of the first things we put a stop to when we were born."

 

The tongue returned once more to Naomi's face, but did not strike her this time. Instead, it slowly passed over her skin in a gentle lick, exerting none of the pressure it had before.

 

"It was actually kind of easy, you know..."

 

Another gentle lick.

 

"...we weren't nearly as lenient and we are now..."

 

And another.

 

"...we simply killed anyone who ignored our order to stop until our vision on the matter became the norm."

 

Naomi shuddered at this, and tried to prepare herself for the return of the striking blows that had previously followed Claire's darker words. Instead, the tongue simply returned to her face once more, delivering another tender lick. Then another, and another. The giant woman was lapping at her now, and for Naomi's own nerves she wanted to believe that it was in some manner of affection. The feeling of Claire's tongue now...wasn't unpleasant. The experience was still weird, of course, but it had seemingly reached the apex of what Claire wished to do.

 

The bigger problem for Naomi right now was that saliva was now seeping off her and pooling around her head, drenching the side of her face that she had been hiding from Claire in the spittle. Her hair had not fared better, and was now stuck fast to her own skin. Attempting to solve at least one of these problems, she turned to face Claire once more. She was somewhat surprised when the tongue's soft slaps against her adjusted as well, beginning to work on the previously hidden side of her face. This seemed to go on forever, but eventually Naomi's apparent new friend left her for the last time, and she opened her eyes to see Claire staring down at her silently.

 

 

No words were said, but the Omega didn't seem to have any desire to continue at the moment. Naomi decided to take the chance to get her bearings straight, sliding back on the large palm a bit to at least get her head out of the pool of saliva. Looking around, she noticed that Claire had actually moved since beginning the session and was now leaning back on her bed, her back propped up by stacked pillows.

 

The silence didn't last, unfortunately.

 

"Do you want to know how we preferred to kill anyone who broke that law, Naomi?"

 

Naomi instinctively shook her head, and she noticed Claire's lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile.

 

"That was rhetorical," she answered. Of course it was. The hand she was resting on now began to rise, eventually putting her at eye level with with the woman, who seemed to be studying her.

 

"How we preferred to go about it, little Naomi, was that we would eat them."

 

Claire's palm immediately tilted, and Naomi desperately wanted to soil herself as she began to slip off the increasingly vertical platform and toward the destination Claire had planner for her: Her open mouth. The reason for Claire's insistence on the bathroom was suddenly apparent to the smaller girl.

 

"Please, no!" Naomi yelled, fear and desperation dripping from her voice as she edged closer and closer to the giant maw. "Please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please don't!"

 

She watched in horror as her feet passed beyond Claire's lips and deeper into the waiting mouth, her pleas apparently falling on deaf ears. Claire's lips suddenly sealed shut, trapping her legs below the knees beyond the soft, plush gate. She felt the giant tongue beyond probing at her bare feet and shins.

 

Then she felt the teeth close in on them, firmly but without cutting through, and a shrill scream escaped her lips.

 

"Please, Ms. Lindon!" Naomi cried. "I'm sorry! I wish I could take back everything I di-"

 

She was interrupted as the mouth suddenly opened again, causing her slide to begin anew. As her waist passed through the lips and over Claire's teeth, she began to thrash and sob. Claire apparently decided to put a halt to the former, closing her lips once again, this time right below her chest. Once more she felt the waiting tongue probing at her, poking at the upper legs, crotch, and buttocks that had entered it's domain. As before, the teeth soon made themselves known once again, this time fitting her stomach in their grip.

 

"Oh, God," Naomi sobbed, only her chest and head now visible outside of Claire's lips. "Please don't do this, Ms. Lindon! I was so selfish and made such a huge, awful mistake, and I'm so sorry! Please!"

 

Claire's only response was to open her lips once again, and Naomi once again screeched in fear. Slowly, she watched as she sank fully through Claire's lips. Desperate, the smaller girl attempted to latch on to Claire's soft upper lip, but was foiled as a massive finger pushed her fully inside and beyond her tormentor's teeth. Naomi's body was now lying fully on Claire's powerful tongue in the dim interior of her maw, and she could only sob as even what little light there was began to disappear as Claire's lips sealed her in.

 

Immediately after being left in this hot, humid darkness, the tongue Naomi rested on immediately flexed slamming the girl into the roof of Claire's mouth. Naomi couldn't help but smile grimly to herself, thinking of the tongue as welcoming the friend it had made into it's abode. The pretense of friendship didn't last, however, as she felt the tongue shift underneath her until the tip was pressing into her back. What started as a light pressure gradually escalated, until it felt as if the tongue was about to crush her against Claire's palate any second.

 

Thankfully, the pressure suddenly halted, and Naomi felt as if she had immediately fallen upon the length of Claire's tongue again. The muscle beneath flexed once more, again slamming her into the palate above. This time, however, the tongue began slowly gyrating below her as if delivering a massage.

 

Claire was sucking on her as if she were a candy. Moreover, she was being surrounded in a veritable sea of saliva now as Claire's body responded to the prospect of an oncoming meal. Naomi was soon utterly drenched in the viscous liquid, which had begun to seep through her nostrils and even into her mouth. Naomi had to spit and snort to clear her orifices of the invading liquid, but each time it seemed to immediately return.

 

The tongue eventually halted it's gyrations, but Naomi was given no time to recover as it casually swished her into a new area of the mouth...the interior of Claire's cheek. Naomi, for her part, wasn't sure whether to be thankful that Claire still had more games to play, or frustrated that she wouldn't simply get it over with. The latter soon won out, though, as the excited muscle returned to Naomi and began pressing her face first into the yielding cheek, the soft membrane cushioning it slightly. The tongue began to roll her along the soft surface, saliva swishing all around her, for God knows how long before she found herself resting once more upon the tongue.

 

"Maybe she's finally going to get it over with," she thought, her whole body aching from a combination of exhaustion and the gradual pounding she had taken from her current bed.

 

Her prison was suddenly illuminated, however, and Naomi found her shoulders gripped on both sides as if between a vice. Slowly, she was pulled out of the humid cave and back into the cool air of Claire's bedroom. Now soaked in the massive woman's saliva, the cool air was chilling her to the bone. The grip that held her gingerly laid her on a waiting palm, her head propped up by the curl of the hand's fingers and enabling Naomi to look up at Claire's face. That unreadable expression was gone now, replaced with a more tender look. The underside of Claire's free hand suddenly entered her vision, slowly descending upon her. Naomi began to panic once again, but Claire gently shushed her before tenderly laying the massive hand onto Naomi's tiny body. The warmth was...God, that warmth was great compared to being out in the open air. Naomi felt like she was under the warmest blanket she'd ever seen as she found herself nuzzling into the tanned flesh.

 

"Naomi," Claire said, her voice soft and considerate, "that's all for today. But I'd like you to stay with me a while longer, because I'd like to ask you some questions. Would that be fine for you?"

 

"I-I h-h-have a c-choice?" Naomi shivered out. Claire gave her a polite nod.

 

"You do," Claire confirmed. "If you want, I'll put you right back in your enclosure and you can clean off and take a nap. But I have some time before I have to begin with Stephanie's session, and I'd love it if we could do something constructive with it."

 

Naomi closed her eyes, considering her options for a moment. Claire was being nice now, but she had seen how often and easily she could switch gears. What if she didn't like Naomi's answer to a question? Would she find herself being "disciplined" again?

 

"I-I-I'll d-d-do it," Naomi finally answered, opening her eyes. Claire gave her a thankful smile.

 

"Thank you, sweetie," she said. "Now. before we go further, I want to tell you that I passed along your apology to my brother. I think it made him feel a lot better, and he wanted me to thank you for him."

 

"R-Really?" Naomi asked, a hopeful look on her face.

 

"Mmhmm," Claire replied.

 

"I'm really glad it made him feel better," Naomi said, allowing herself a small smile.

 

"Now with that said," Claire started, "this also leads to the first question: Why did you attack him to begin with? Your record is perfectly clean, no history of this kind of behavior at all. I want to know what made that change."

 

Naomi couldn't help but look away. She didn't want to answer this question. She was ashamed and embarrassed of the answer.

 

"Please, Naomi. I just want to know why a girl that seems so sweet and has been so remorseful did what she did. I want to know why someone like you did that to my big brother."

 

Naomi grunted to herself. She still didn't want to share, not in the least, but..in her head, Claire had a right to know. To know how awful the girl in her hand really was.

 

"Because I wanted to feel in control, for once. To feel powerful. Just to feel better about myself."

 

Claire seemed to consider that answer for a moment, but Naomi couldn't help turn away again as she saw a frown form on her face.

 

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" Naomi asked. "A pretty girl that got mad about not being able to do anything for herself and took it out on someone even weaker than she was."

 

"Naomi, why in the world would you feel that way about yourself?" Claire asked after a small moment of silence, a hint of confusion in her voice.

 

"Because it's true," she replied, turning to face Claire once again. "I have nothing going for me besides my looks. I'm not smart, my family doesn't have money, I'm not good at anything! The only reason I'm even going to be able to go to college is because Marion is basically taking me with her. The only things I have are the things she's given me...I never would have gotten them myself. I'm just...I'm just the type of person that's better off doing what someone else tells me to do."

 

"And who told you that?" Claire snapped, her eyes narrowing and frown intensifying. "Marion?"

 

Naomi nodded meekly, a lump forming in her throat.

 

"Then Marion's a shitty friend, Naomi," Claire replied with a snarl.

 

There was an awkward silence between them for a few minutes, and Claire's face slowly began to revert back it's usual stoic expression.

 

"I want to share a little story with you, Naomi," Claire stated, breaking the silence.

 

"A story?" Naomi questioned. What good would a story do?

 

"Yes, a story. You see, there's one thing I always, always do whenever I talk to my brother: I put him somewhere where he is directly eye level with me. Do you have any guesses as to why I do that?"

 

A shake of her head was all that Naomi could give her.

 

"Part of it is because I want him to know that in my eyes, he matters just as much as me. I don't want to sit or stand somewhere and talk down to him, as if his only place is below me."

 

Naomi nodded. That made sense...it was certainly really sweet of her. She couldn't help but feel even more pathetic compared to her, Claire seemed like such a great person...

 

"The other part," Claire continued, "is because when I was thirteen years old, I realized something for the first time. You see, I adored my big brother, Naomi. I thought the world of him. He was so smart, so nice, incapable of doing anything wrong."

 

Claire halted suddenly, seemingly trying to prepare her next words. Naomi had begun to tremble, and it took her a moment to realize that it was because Claire's hands were shaking around her as she began to tell her story.

 

********

 

Then one night, and note that he was seventeen at the time, he stumbled home drunk from a friend's house down the road. He had forgotten his house key, and had to use the doorbell at our Beta entrance. I was the only one home at the time, so of course I was the one that had to let him in. So I step out, take one look down at the walkway for him, and I can immediately tell he is drunk. He was barely even able to stand, and then he went and confirmed it when he started slurring his speech.

 

And as I stood there and looked down at him, Naomi, I got mad. My brother wasn't supposed to be off getting drunk. He wasn't supposed to be stumbling around the neighborhood like an idiot, slurring his speech, forgetting his keys. He wasn't supposed to be breaking a law. These weren't things he was supposed to do, you see. Because they didn't fit with what I wanted.

 

And you know what I did? I told him that. I told him how he was supposed to act, and what I expected him to do. And he stood there at my feet, nearly three thousand feet below me, and listened to his little sister tell him in a voice louder than thunder what he was supposed to be. I don't think he could even see my face, Naomi.

 

So early the next morning, he shows up in my room, hungover as hell and wanting to talk to me. To thank me. Because he had a dream after he got to bed and went to sleep, and he wanted to tell me about it, about how enlightening it was.

 

The dream, you see, boiled down to him walking down a road. And every time he got to a fork, or an intersection, or whatever, he would simply look into the sky. And I would be there, towering into near infinity, and I would tell him which path to take. Because I knew which path he should take, because I was bigger and obviously that meant I could see which would be better for him. And if he tried to take the wrong path, the one I didn't pick, I would just reach down and remove it. Scrape it off the face of the Earth, as if it had never been there to begin with. And he was so thankful, because nothing bad ever happened to him, and that was just the greatest thing in the world to him at that moment. He was utterly infatuated with the idea of some comparatively all-powerful being guiding him through life, because he felt his decisions would make him worse. Because he felt he would be better off if he lived the life I wanted him to live.

 

He left after sharing that, went straight back to his room and passed right the hell out. I'm pretty sure he's mostly forgotten about the whole thing now, and I thank God every day for that fact, because as I listened to him talk about that dream and realized the effect five minutes of talking down to him had, I realized something else shortly after he left my room.

 

I realized for the first time that, for all intents and purposes, I was a god to him. It had taken eight years, but it had finally hit me how much power my size truly gave me over him. Sure, I knew how easily I could hurt him if I had the mind to do it. But I hadn't realized the authority I could exert over him due to it. It was different with Mom, she had parental authority at least. All I had was the fact that he was a mite in comparison.

 

I loved that realization, Naomi. I loved knowing that if I made just one more little push, I would make that dream he had into reality. I knew I could guarantee him a good life. I knew that I could keep him safe. I knew I could eventually find him a good girl that he would be happy with. I knew all that and so much more, because my ideal life for him was just so perfect and everything I could ever want for someone.

 

All it would take, of course, was me ignoring what he wanted to do in favor of what I felt he should do. And that was a little bit of a hangup. So I went to the only person who I felt could help me decide if I really wanted to make that push: I went to my mom, and I told her what I thought, and how I just knew I could make life so great for him. She didn't have much to say. She simply said that she would trust my judgment on the matter. In hindsight, I think she was lying on that, but I think she wanted to see what decision I would come to on my own. The only other thing she said to me was that she expected me to do what was right for my brother, what would best support him. I thought on the matter for a few days, and it eventually occurred to me what she meant by that.

 

If I had went along with that little idea I'd had, I wouldn't have a brother anymore. He wouldn't even be a human anymore. I'd simply have a little extension of my own will, doing whatever I wanted it to do, obliviously happy as it meandered through life without ever expressing any desire of it's own ever again. It wouldn't be a person anymore. I wouldn't respect it. I don't think I would even love it anymore, at least not as the brother I had known.

 

I will never stop being ashamed at how I felt that day. The real reason I hold him close is because I never want him to consider handing his humanity over to me like that ever again.

 

********

 

"People like me don't exist to stand above it all and dictate what other people do with their lives, Naomi," Claire stated, a look of purpose in her eyes. "We exist to help others realize their dreams, their desires. To give them the strength they need to push toward them and make them a reality, to help push the obstacles they face out of the way. Marion is a shitty friend to you, Naomi, because she doesn't care about you as a person. She cares about you as a thing that she can dress up and set on a path of her choosing, as a part of her life."

 

Claire took a deep breath, but all Naomi could do was stare up blankly at her as she processed all this.

 

"The point, Naomi, is that you should do what you want to do. So I have a goal for you, that I'd love to see you meet by the time you finish your sentence."

 

"What kind of goal?" Naomi asked.

 

"I want you to find that something you want to do, to get away from that toxic "friend." I want you to realize what all you have to offer, and if you can do that then I promise that I will do whatever I can to assist you when you find that thing."

 

Claire was staring down at her, her face confident and reassuring. And Naomi could barely see it as her eyes welled with tears. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been there for her like this, cared so much about her, and the fact that it was someone she had hurt and who had hurt her...

 

"Thank you," she mouthed, no words emerging from her mouth, but Claire seemed to understand nonetheless.

 

"It's nothing you need to thank me for, Naomi. I told you, this is why I exist. Betas may be my primary focus, but I'm not going to ignore someone else in need of help right in front of my eyes."

 

Naomi wiped at her eyes, and she noticed that Claire was getting out of her bed and beginning to kneel down in front of her enclosure.

.

"Naomi," Claire started, her tone somewhat apologetic, "I want you to know going forward that I took no joy in the pain I caused you today during the session. That's...just how they are, and how they're going to be. But I want you to trust me when I tell you that I will never cause you any long-term harm during them. I think they will go by much easier for you if you can do that. Can you trust me on that?"

 

"I...I think I can," Naomi replied. She did trust what Claire said, but...God, she didn't know how she was going to make it through all those sessions.

 

Claire gave her a warm smile as she began to lower her into the enclosure, gently leaving her on the floor.

 

"Alright," Claire said as her hands withdrew, "How about you get cleaned off and I'll go get you a meal and leave it with you before I start Stephanie's session? You can have the rest of the day to yourself. Sound good?"

 

Naomi nodded up eagerly, food did sound strangely good despite her earlier...experience. As Claire stood and began to leave, Naomi began to undress, her thoughts focused solely on the hot shower to come.

 

 

 Stephanie was lying on her bed, a white towel draped around her shoulders and covering her naked breasts. Her brunette hair was still damp after her shower, but she preferred it that way. After a scream from Naomi had woken her up earlier, she had decided to put in some time on the exercise bike. Just because she was stuck in this thing for a year didn't mean she had to let her muscles deteriorate, after all, and she wasn't going to let something as unimportant as a Beta cost her the soccer scholarship she had earned. Having a year off wasn't ideal, but she would make it work. She had too much talent to let it go to waste, and she had lost count of the offers she had gotten before deciding on the only school that was ever really an option for her: The same one Marion and Naomi were going to.

 

Sighing, Stephanie couldn't help but wonder how Naomi was doing. The scream had awoken her, and the Omega had mentioned something about a "first disciplinary session" before leaving for a while. Claire had take her friend out of her own enclosure while she had been exercising, and shortly afterward the glass of her cell had turned a milky white and she could no longer hear anything from beyond the glass walls. She hoped Naomi was okay, the girl was...fragile, both mentally and physically.

 

Of course, the sooner Naomi realized the truth of this situation, the better. Stephanie had no qualms with what she had done to that Beta. It wasn't that she had anything against the little thing like Marion did, it had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Stephanie and her friends had simply done what their status allowed them to do to such an inconsequential creature. Conversely, the Omega was now doing what her status allowed. Stephanie wasn't a hypocrite, she could understand that. It sucked, but there was nothing to be done or complain about now. It was nature, and she felt that Naomi would be better off if she could realize that and go with it.

 

Stephanie couldn't help but frown in disgust as she thought of what that Omega had said the night before, though. Calling that...thing "big brother" was....was unacceptable. How could that massive woman even recognize such a little...nothing as her brother, much less a person? It couldn't be one, and she refused to recognize it as one.

 

Stephanie had begun biting her bottom lip nervously, and her hands clutched tightly at the ends of the towel that rested just below her breasts.

 

If she recognized it as a person, then that meant she had...had killed...

 

"Put a shirt on," a calm voice commanded from above her. Snapping out of her thoughts, Stephanie looked up to see that the forcefield was gone and that the Omega was now looking down at her, brows furrowed at lips pursed.

 

Stephanie grunted and rose from her bed, tossing her towel into the corner of the cell while walking over to the dresser Lindon had brought with the meals last night. Slipping on a clean bra and a white tank-top, she gave the gray gym shorts she had slipped on after the shower a couple of pats before turning to face her warden as the woman's large hand suddenly closed around her. An involuntary shudder coursed through her body as the fingers pressed her on all sides before she found herself being lifted up and out of her cell.

 

She couldn't help but notice that the woman seemed to be prepared for a workout as she was brought toward the woman. Not that she was particularly surprised by this; Claire was definitely in great shape, and that didn't come without putting in the work. Despite her...disagreements with the woman's views, Stephanie had to respect the apparent dedication of her hostess toward keeping her body conditioned.

 

Jarred by a sudden movement, Stephanie noticed that the Omega was on the move and walking out of her room. Her surroundings were a blur as Claire moved quickly through the house until finally halting and taking a seat on a black leather couch. Stephanie found herself being lightly dropped onto the surface of a glass coffee table that sat before the titaness. As she knelt to brace herself from the fall, she couldn't help but look through the glass she stood on and notice the white running shoes that rested on the beige carpet below with white socks stuffed into them.

 

As Stephanie regained her equilibrium and began to stand, her eyes wandered up the tanned shins that rested a few feet from the edge of the table and to the valley formed by the woman's knees. They eventually fixed upon Claire's face, staring down at her as if trying to decide what to do with her new toy. Stephanie kept her eyes locked with the woman, but her mouth shut. She knew her place in the hierarchy at work here, and judged that waiting for Claire to speak was the best course of action at the moment.

 

"So," she eventually started, "we've got a session to get to. Before we do, I have a little question I want to ask. Is that fine with you?

 

Stephanie grunted. She didn't want to talk, and she didn't want to answer questions. She wanted to just get this stupid thing over and done with for the week.

 

Still, it couldn't entirely hurt to be a little accommodating. It might even prove beneficial.

 

"What is it?" Stephanie replied with a sigh. Claire arched an eyebrow in response.

 

"Well, you're a blunt little thing," she noted, a hint of amusement in her voice. Stephanie simply shrugged, earning a light snicker from the giantess before she continued.

 

"Anyway, there was something in your file that caught my attention, to say the least. About eight years ago, you were involved in a little...incident. Care to tell me a bit more about that?"

 

"No," was Stephanie's curt reply. A sigh escaped Claire's lips.

 

"I think there's been a little bit of a misunderstanding between us," she said, voice monotone. "That wasn't so much a question as a suggestion, and I really do apologize for my part in this little...communication error."

 

"So I suggest you rethink your answer with this clarification in mind," Claire finished, eyes narrowed.

 

"My answer stands," Stephanie immediately replied, not a second spared to reconsider. "There's nothing to talk about. Nothing of note happened."

 

"Someone died, Stephanie," Claire stated, her voice becoming heated.

 

"A Beta died. That is nothing, and I'm not going to talk about it...I can't talk about it."

 

Claire just stared at her for a moment after that, her lips curling into a snarl with each passing second. Stephanie, for her part, was bracing herself. She didn't expect the woman to take kindly to that answer, and she remembered what had been done to Marion. She expected a swift punishment for giving Claire lip, and was prepared to face it.

 

Surprisingly, though, the snarl suddenly melted away and was replaced with a small smile.

 

"I think I see the problem we're having," Claire said, voice upbeat, "That was a rather personal thing to ask about on our first real day together. I shouldn't expect two of you to open up to me in one day, after all."

 

The hell did she mean by that?

 

"So I think we should spend our time together today getting to know each other a little better, and I think I have the perfect thing in mind for that. I saw a little something else in your file that caught my eye: You got a soccer scholarship, didn't you?"

 

Stephanie slowly nodded.

 

"I love Soccer, Stephanie. I played Forward with the regional Institute's team for eight years while I went through school. We won our little Cup in each of my last six years, and in each of those years I scored twenty-six goals in as many games."

 

Stephanie shuddered a little at that. Her own high school team enjoyed similar success, but her personal stats...they had been good, but not like that.

 

"Of course," Claire continued, "I didn't limit myself to just soccer. It's not year round, y'know? I did track in-between, felt it was a good way to keep in shape, and it was. Did you ever do track, Stephanie?"

 

Stephanie shook her head. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she didn't care for it. The Omega's voice was thick with a false sweetness, and it seemed to amplify with each word she spoke.

 

"Aw, that's too bad," Claire responded. "I think you would have enjoyed it if you had given it a shot."

 

Claire suddenly brought her right hand before her chest, and it was quickly joined by the left which began to steadily massage at her wrist as she steadily curled and uncurled her fingers. Stephanie found herself oddly entranced by the motions.

 

"Do you like to run, Stephanie?" the Omega asked. Stephanie nodded, eyes still focused on the larger woman's hands. There was something...off with them, or at least with the right hand. It was as if it was emanating a heatwave that was distorting the area around it.

 

"I do, too," Claire said, her smile growing wider. "In fact, I think we should go for a run together. I think it would be a great little bonding experience for us...but there's a problem, you see."

 

"A problem?" Stephanie asked, her voice no longer seeming to be her own.

 

"Mmmhmm. You see, I'm not totally comfortable with going on a run with you as you are now. I need to make a temporary little...correction, as it were. So..."

 

Claire halted her little massage, and begin to lift her right hand into the air, fingers outstretched as if she were about to deliver an open-palm slap. Stephanie had watched the entire motion, utterly entranced and unable to pull her eyes away. She could barely even register Claire's next words.

 

"...let me fix you right up."

 

Stephanie hadn't been prepared for what happened next. Claire's massive hand had immediately begun to descend. By the time the movement had even registered, the hand was already upon her.

 

"I'm going to die," was the last thought that passed through Stephanie's head before her world was consumed in a deafening roar as the hand came to a sudden stop mere inches above her. An intense, otherworldly pressure was exerting itself on her, and as much as Stephanie wanted to fall to her knees, there seemed to be some invisible force holding her up. The hand above her seemed to be trembling as it pushed against this same force, but....was it getting farther away?

 

If Stephanie could have spoken, the words "Oh my God" would have been the first words from her lips. The next few dozen would have been alternating variations of "Oh, shit."

 

The hand above her wasn't getting farther away, not truly. As that deafening roar continued, and her stomach seemed to be consumed by a black hole, Stephanie realized what was happening and her eyes widened in terror.

 

She was getting smaller. Whatever this woman was doing, it was shaving inches off her height by the second. She could only watch as the palm above continued it's work, growing both larger and farther away as Stephanie dwindled.

 

And then it stopped. The roar, the pressure, even the force that had been holding her up. Stephanie promptly crumpled to her knees, her body suddenly exhausted. She watched with an empty stare as the hand began to move away, allowing Stephanie to look at Claire once again. A larger Claire. As Stephanie took everything in, she realized that the Omega had at least doubled in size...and God, the smile on her face now.

 

Stephanie barely noticed as the hand that had done this to her disappeared below the table. It's reappearance was another story, as it was no longer alone. A large white mass was accompanying it now, pinched between Claire's thumb and forefinger, and Stephanie instantly knew both what it was and Claire's intentions for it...and her. She barely noticed as Claire suddenly plucked her up with her free hand, eventually holding Stephanie above the opening of the bus-sized sock as the other hand held it open for her.

 

"Let's have a nice run together, Stephanie," the titanic woman said, teeth bared, as Stephanie felt the fingers let go and allow her to freefall into the massive garment.

 

 By the time Stephanie truly regained her senses, she found herself lying across the length of Claire's big toe. A toe that was now slightly larger than she was. Her face was pressed hard into the unpainted keratin surface of the massive woman's toe as the sock was pulled tight against her right foot. By some miracle, the invading foot had ended up rolling her up the toe of the sock and into her current position. If her warden was seriously about to go for a run, then at least she wasn't going to be getting stepped on.

 

That was her initial thought, at least, until the cotton wall that pressed against her was pinched away. Stephanie watched, eyes wide, as the toe of the sock began to slowly pull away from the foot.

 

Then her world went vertical, and Stephanie began to slip headfirst off her current perch. She want to reach out, to try to stop herself, but...God, she was still so tired from whatever the hell Claire had done to her. Stephanie could simply watch helplessly as her limp body fell into the toe of the sock. Claire had apparently felt her fall, and the sock began pulling closer to the Omega's toes.

 

Stephanie gulped in trepidation as she realized that she would not be getting lucky this time. Claire's raised toes slid above her, hungry to receive their new companion as they curled inward to hug her horizontal form into an embrace of tanned, meaty flesh and forced her face into the crevice between her jailer's big and second toe.

 

"There we go," Claire's muffled voice remarked from outside Stephanie's prison. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to give you a little hug before we started."

 

The digits continued their embrace, tightening with each passing seconds and pressing Stephanie harder and harder into their soft underbellies. The pressure was becoming more and more painful, and Stephanie thought she might let out a scream before the toes suddenly released her onto the cotton floor of the sock. Claire's foot was at rest on something now, and her toes settled in contentedly on their visitor.

 

"I hope you enjoy your time with these little guys," the Omega said, her tone perky. "I think you can learn a lot from them, if you pay attention. They helped me score all one hundred and fifty-six of those goals, y'know?"

 

Stephanie soon found herself entrapped in another embrace, but this time the pressure was kept low and somewhat tender.

 

"Aw," Claire continued, voice saccharine, "I think they're looking forward to it. Aren't they just the sweetest?"

 

"But y'know," Claire said, her voice becoming monotone, "they weren't too happy when they found out about how selfish you were."

 

The hug began tightening once again, eventually leveling off in a firm embrace that caused Stephanie's breathing to become labored.

 

"Your assist totals were deplorable, Stephanie!" Claire scolded. "Sure, I wasn't shy about taking shots, but if a teammate had a better one I didn't hesitate to send it their way!"

 

Stephanie grunted to herself in response. So what if she didn't have many assists? They'd won plenty with her taking every shot she had the chance at. There certainly hadn't been a teammate that could have done better.

 

"So," Claire continued once more, "they're going to give you a little lesson in teamwork today. A lesson I hope you take to heart."

 

The toes released their grip once more, and Claire's foot began to rise. Stephanie's brief reprieve didn't last long, however, as the light that had made it's way through the cotton weave disappeared in what would be the first clue to the bus-sized foot's location.

 

The second clue was the sudden and sharp increase in odor. Claire's feet had obviously been washed recently, so Stephanie hadn't been subject to much more than the scent of fruit. Now, though...

 

There was no doubt what had taken away the light. Claire had begun to insert her foot, and therefore Stephanie, into her shoe. A shoe that was apparently well-worn and was permeated with God knows how many hours' worth of sweat, a scent that was hauntingly familiar to the smaller girl. If Claire jogged anywhere near as much as Stephanie did...

 

She couldn't help but shudder as the foot came to rest fully in the shoe. The toes flattened as Claire stood, pressing the reduced girl firmly into the insole at her back and shoving her face into the crevice above her once more.

 

Then Claire began to walk, and the pressure on Stephanie was temporarily relieved as the foot lifted up, but Stephanie knew this wouldn't last. She braced herself, forcing herself to take a deep breath of the now acrid air that surrounded her, only to have it expelled as Claire's foot hit the ground once more and the toes flattened and pressed once more. One steady step after another, this process repeated. Stephanie eventually heard the sound of a door being opened above her, and one step later the sound of one closing.

 

Claire began walking again, and as each step brought the massive woman's weight down upon Stephanie, a sense of dread began to overwhelm the one inch tall girl. Claire was still only walking for now, and it was already getting harder to breathe with each step. What about when the steps started becoming more frequent? When the overpowering digits above her began to press harder?

 

When Claire started to sweat?

 

The titaness continued this steady walking pace for a time, but it eventually came to an end as she began to speed up. Stephanie's opportunities for breath were becoming shorter and shorter as Claire continued to increase her speed. What little fruit scent that had remained after the foot had entered the shoe was gone now, as the air around Stephanie became more and more humid with each step as Claire began to heat up and the first hints of perspiration began to appear.

 

Then she finally started to run, and Stephanie realized just how easy things had previously been. Claire was taking long strides now, but...God, the impact of each step was now out of this world. Firm, hard presses of the pillowy toes above her transformed into slams that strained her body hard against the insole below her.

 

Claire was also starting to sweat in earnest. As the run continued, Stephanie found that she was becoming damp with perspiration. Every gasping breath was now accompanied by it's awful taste, and her eyes were starting to sting. Moreover, each press now resulted in Stephanie's face temporarily sticking into the hot, sweaty gap between Claire's toes, making every breath that much harder.

 

Yet as Claire continued on her run, and the conditions inside Stephanie's prison began to worsen, the smaller girl found herself focusing less and less on the worsening punishment. Instead, her mind began to wander. She began to notice just how familiar all of this was. Not from this perspective, of course, she had never been in someone's shoe before. It was familiar for another reason.

 

The toes that assaulted her over and over again had once been her own, and her place had been taken by a small six year old boy. One who had gotten up earlier than usual one morning and apparently decided to go wake up his big sister. Who, in his assumed attempts at reaching her as she slept, had ended up in one of the socks she kept in her sneaker, with no way out. Whose cries for help went unheard as his sibling woke up and eventually slipped on her socks and shoes, trapping him within.

 

His sister had known something was in her sock, but she didn't see any reason to take whatever it was out. She was in a hurry, and why would she ever think it was her little brother? She was having fun playing with whatever the object was, after all. So she had eaten a quick little breakfast and then taken off toward the nearby park to play soccer with all her friends, oblivious to what she was subjecting her precious little brother to all the while.

 

When she returned home, her parents had been in a panic. Her little brother had vanished. Her parents could find him nowhere, and he responded to none of the calls they made. Her mother was combing the yard, carefully looking through the grass and flowers, while her tiny father checked every crack or crevice he could find.

 

She wanted to help, but first she wanted to change clothes. Reaching her room, she had kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. It was then that her curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she had reached inside her sock and grasped whatever it was that had been keeping her foot company and slowly pulled it out.

 

It didn't register at first, what she had held between her thumb and forefinger. Soon enough, though, her eyes had slowly widened and her mouth went agape. Her body was consumed by an unstoppable tremble, and her breathing rapidly accelerated to the point of hyper ventilation.

 

She was holding the mangled, beaten corpse of her little brother.

 

Her reaction was ultimately the only reaction it could have been, for a ten year old who had discovered the deceased body of her little brother. For a ten year old who knew that she had been the one to kill him. Because she hadn't taken five seconds to check on the strange object in her sock. Because it hadn't been important enough to her to warrant checking.

 

It was the same reaction that was now building within Stephanie as she recalled all of this. As each thundering footfall from Claire served as an example of what she herself had done.

 

It was a reaction that Stephanie could no longer contain, and as the foot began to lift once again and her face fell away from the crevice between Claire's toes, she let out a single, gasping, retching scream.

 

And as she prepared for the sweaty toes above her to once again come slamming down, one thing began to occur to her.

 

It still hadn't come.

 

********

 

Claire wished she had never heard that sound. She wished she could just put her foot down normally, instead of catching herself on her right heel and halting her momentum enough to allow her to slow down her pace while keeping her toes lifted to avoid slamming the tiny girl underneath them into her insole once again.

 

She wished it had been any other sound but that, as she gingerly stepped off the sidewalk and took a seat on the grass.

 

As she pulled her right shoe off, she wished that she didn't care. About the well-being of her charge. About helping someone who needed it. About how much her brother would hate her if she ignored such a person.

 

Claire had wanted to enjoy this. She wanted to make these girls hurt, to make them feel the pain they had inflicted onto a Beta. Onto her brother. To impose the harsh justice they deserved. To make them too scared to ever think of hurting a Beta ever again. Like every Omega, she derived intense satisfaction from any action that might help make a Beta's life easier. It was how they were conditioned. It was what the fire inside provided them.

 

Naomi had been a bitter, insecure, bullied girl with one horrible moral lapse in her life. One that could have been avoided if someone had ever actually acted like a true friend t her. These punishments would do nothing for the remorseful girl, and Claire could never bring herself to enjoy harming someone like that. They were simply a thing she would have to deliver moving forward.

 

Stephanie was supposed to be easier to punish. Claire was aware of her file, but the girl's apathetic attitude had made it easy to push that aside as she held the girl at the mercy of her feet, taunting the girl with her superiority at the sport they both enjoyed. Showing her what "nothing" really was. It had felt so good until that awful, awful scream.

 

She had heard screams like the one that had emanated from her toes countless times in the thirteen years she had attended the Institute. It was commonplace in the documentary footage they watched as they were educated on how Betas had lived before Dr. Everett was reborn as the first Omega. It was a sound she would never forget, as long as she lived.

 

It was the sound of complete and total despair. Of a mind collapsing in on itself as it struggled and failed to cope with whatever darkness tormented it.

 

It was a sound Claire couldn't ignore.

 

So as she pulled her sock off and fetched the tiny girl from her sweat-soaked garment, she was unsurprised to see Stephanie sobbing as she lay face down in the center of her left pal. Frowning, Claire brought up her free hand and began gently rubbing her back with a fingertip half as tall as she was.

 

"Stephanie, are you okay?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. Her only answer was continued sobbing.

 

"Stephanie, do you need to talk to me? To someone? I can arrange it if you want."

 

Still nothing but sobbing. Claire's frown intensified.

 

"Stephanie, please, I need you to ta-"

 

"No!" Stephanie interrupted, her screeching voice raspy. She turned to face Claire, her eyes bloodshot, her face a twisted mix of agony and rage.

 

"I don't need anything!" she continued, her voice desperate. "I didn't do anything! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!"

 

As the girl stopped to catch her breath, Claire could only stare at her blankly.

 

"I didn't! It was nothing! Nothing!"

 

"I didn't kill anyone!"

 

Claire simply sat and listened as Stephanie continued to utter denials, her voice becoming lower and lower. She watched with a sense of horrid realization as Stephanie's agonized expression began to melt away with each comforting denial, until she was eventually sitting there stone-faced. The same way she had looked the first time Claire had seen her, the expression she had kept up almost constantly.

 

They sat there in silence for a while. Stephanie simply looked at her blankly, and Claire couldn't think of anything to say. The girl had completely retreated back into her shell, and she didn't feel the need to try to bait her back out. At least not today. The important thing for now was that she knew something was in there, and she promised herself that she would find a way to help her.

 

Sighing, Claire temporarily set the inch-tall girl onto the expanse of her toned left thigh. The girl simply sat down, showing no interest in the ever-so-slight chance to run presented to her. After slipping her sock and shoe back on, she plucked the girl up and stood, bringing the girl close to her abdomen as she did so and curling the tiny thing into her palm. Caging the girl in with her fingers as she began to walk back home, the silence was broken by the sudden ringing of her cellphone. Pulling it from her arm strap, she took a quick look at the caller ID before answering.

 

"Jenna?" she asked.

 

"Claire!" her excitable friend answered. "Where are you, I'm at your house with Melody and no one is answering the door!"

 

Claire sighed. She hadn't been expecting visitors while she was out.

 

"I'm out for a run," she answered. "On my way back right now. What are you two doing there?"

 

"We wanted to see Corey, idiot!" Jenna nearly yelled. "We want to see how he's doing, let him know we're thinking about him..."

 

Claire couldn't help but smile. Her fellow Omegas, her two best friends, were sweet for thinking of her brother. Wasn't particularly surprising, though. She was pretty sure both had a crush on him growing up. She was also pretty sure Melody still did.

 

"...and we wanted to take a little peek at who did this to him," Jenna finished, her upbeat tone transforming into something a bit more feral.

 

Looking down at Stephanie, Claire was cautious for a moment, and only a moment. Marion's file suddenly came to mind. The things she had done. The things she had said. A history of cruelty and malice toward everyone around her. Nothing that indicated the problems Stephanie had.

 

A toothy grin spread across her lips.

 

"Know what, Jenna?" Claire said, suddenly happy, "why don't you two use the spare key under the welcome mat and go on in? Corey has a scheduled bath a little over an hour ago, so he's probably taking a nap..."

 

Claire couldn't help but lick her lips.

 

"...but I think I know exactly how we can pass some time until he wakes up."

 

"Oh?" Jenna asked, a sense of anticipatory delight in her tone.

 

"How about you go introduce yourselves to the little redhead in the leftmost tank in my room? I have one last session to do today, after all, and it's the one I've been looking forward to the most."

 

"Oh, Claire, that sounds just perfect."

 

"I thought you'd like that," Claire replied, her grin growing wider. "Just don't start without me, and don't do anything with the girl in the middle."

 

A "Will do!" marked the end of the conversation, and Claire inserted the phone back into her arm strap as she quickened her pace.

 

She'd ultimately give Marion a chance. She had told her brother she would be fair to them, and she intended to do so.

 

But she had a feeling Marion would fuck that up all on her own, without Claire having to do a single thing.

 

 Jenna brushed her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear as she knelt to look at the two girls sleeping in the tanks at her feet. The little redhead on the left seemed to be having a pleasant dream, as a large smile was plastered across her face. The Asian girl had an expression of...contentment, despite apparently going through a session earlier.

 

Jenna's lips curled into a snarl as she brought her fingers to the control panel for the tanks. She didn't particularly care for that.

 

A press of a button brought down the containment field that sealed off the middle tank, and Jenna began to reach for it's sleeping occupant.

 

"I thought Claire told you to leave that one alone?" a voice questioned from behind her. Jenna paused, hand hovering slightly above the sleeping girl, as she turned her head to see Melody kneeling down to her left. Her friend's amber eyes were focused on her outstretched hand, and Jenna promptly began to retract it.

 

"I just want to have a little talk with her before Claire gets back," Jenna answered, her voice lowered. Melody's eyes rose to meet her own, the taller girl seemingly studying her for just a moment. Movement in Jenna's peripheral vision suddenly caught her attention, and she quickly broke eye contact as she watched Melody's hand approach the base of the tanks.

 

"I just hope you haven't forgotten what happened the last time you had a "talk" with someone after Claire told you to keep your distance," Melody stated as she deactivated the field over the redhead's enclosure.

 

"Yet I was right, in the end, wasn't I?" Jenna asked, her voice low and somber as she met Melody's gaze once again. Her friend was scowling at her now, and for a moment she wondered if Melody might strike her.

 

Jenna wouldn't hold it against her if she did. She hadn't held it against Claire, either. Jenna desperately wanted to be able to share their beliefs, but if this incident had proven anything, it was that Omegas like her were still needed. Needed to guide and protect Betas through a life in a world that hated them through its very nature...even if it meant some choices needed to be made for them every now and then. Until the world was better. Safer.

 

Until, at the very least, a Beta could jog wherever the hell he or she wanted to without being brutalized.

 

Jenna's eyes caught the hand Melody had used to switch off the field moving once again, and she couldn't help but brace herself for a blow. Claire had a hell out of a punch, but her arms weren't nearly as well developed as her legs. Melody had played goalkeeper, though, and had supplemented with volleyball. Her arm strength was nothing to scoff at, and Jenna was certain Melody could break her jaw if she ever were so inclined.

 

She relaxed, though, as the hand and Melody's attention shifted to the sleeping redhead. Her friend gingerly pulled the sheets off the sleeping girl and casually tossed them to the side with a flick of the wrist before suddenly and forcefully wrapping her fingers around the redhead's frame. The girl's eyes shot open in response to this rude awakening, and she attempted to scream as Melody's fingers wrapped around her. All that earned the girl was Melody's thumb in in her face, muffling any sound she was making.

 

"Just don't go overboard," Melody stated coldly, eyes affixed on her little prize as she stood to her full height. "I'm going to go...how did you say Claire put it? Introduce myself."

 

Melody punctuated her statement with a light squeeze, and Jenna couldn't help but smirk in amusement as her friend left. It was a display that was uncharacteristic of Melody. She didn't doubt that her friend was upset, but there was no way that squeeze was anything worse than slightly uncomfortable. Even Jenna's momentary fear of a physical reprisal for her comment was based on what Claire's reaction would have been, though she couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed that Melody refused to bring her strength to bear, whether it be against her or that little asshole of a girl.

 

While she was the strongest and most imposing girl she knew, standing a head taller than even Claire, Melody was also the gentlest person she knew. She had been the first person in their class to earn the right to handle a Beta, and the Beta classes that regularly visited the Institute had endearingly made it no secret that they viewed Melody's hands as the safest place in the world as the years went by and the the two classes steadily grew up with each other.

 

Jenna's smirk turned into a genuinely warm smile as she remembered the first time one of her classmates had been allowed to hold their guests. Melody had had the entire little class to herself that day, cupped protectively in her hands as she spent all day talking to her new friends as her classmates jealously looked on. Even now, Jenna was still impressed with how quickly Melody had perfected precise control of her breathing and muscles.

 

God, but that had pissed off Claire at the time. It had taken months afterward for Claire to receive permission to handle Betas, and the girl practically fumed whenever Corey had asked Melody for a lift around the house when the girls had visited. Things had gotten even worse when Jenna was approved before her as well, and the three had relentlessly teased Claire with that fact. Jenna and Melody would transport her older brother and his friends over the most trivial amounts of space, the three of them staring dead at the annoyed girl just to rub in the fact that she couldn't help him herself.

 

When Claire was finally approved, the last person in their class to earn it, she had immediately stormed home that day with Jenna and Melody in tow. Mrs. Abby had just gotten home with Corey when they arrived at their house, and Claire had immediately run up to her mother and tenderly plucked her brother from her palm before placing him in her own. She had promptly walked inside, sat down at the coffee table, and deposited him atop it before simply staring at him as he, Jenna, and Melody had done to her in their teasing. Corey had practically died of laughter.

 

Jenna adored these memories of growing up with her friends, of getting to meet and mingle with so many Betas, but her smile began to fade as she recalled the first time she had been able to hold the visitors. She had been so excited to finally be able to hold them herself, to talk to them, to protect them for the first time. Every fiber of her being had wanted to just shell them off in the confines of her hands and hold them close, safe from anything that could cause them harm. Her eyes had eagerly scanned the group of children as she got to know them. Then something had caught her eye: A little boy, no older than she was, his right arm just...gone. Lost, she had found out, in a senseless act of cruelty from an Alpha. The boy had called the assailant "a big person," adding "but not big like you!" a few seconds after.

 

Jenna had wanted to cry so badly after that conversation, and it had taken every ounce of self control she was capable of at that age to keep herself from doing so while her hands were full. More than any other memory, that was the one that stuck with her over the years. She had remained close friends with that boy for years, but eventually...eventually, the experience had caught up with him.

 

This was what occupied her thoughts as she turned her attention back to the sleeping girl below her, that disgustingly content look still on her face. Jenna was curious about what, precisely, the girl apparently found so peaceful about her situation as she brought her hand to bear against her once more. She pulled the sheet off and discarded it as Melody had done, and gently poked at the girl's chest.

 

She woke up pretty easily, and smiled upon seeing the finger in front of her. The little prisoner even reached out a hand to touch it.

 

Jenna arched an eyebrow. That was interesting.

 

The girl's smile faded, though, as she continued to look at the finger in front of her. Jenna's smirk returned. She had noticed something was off, and Jenna watched her eyes trace up her fair-skinned arm before finally their eyes finally met.

 

The reaction was instantaneous, as the girl immediately began to backpedal away from her. Jenna's smirk intensified as the girl quickly ran out of space, her back slamming into the glass at the head of the bed. Jenna's hand had engulfed her then, imprisoning the girl within her fist with just her tiny head popping out.

 

"What happened to that little smiling face, hm?" Jenna asked, her tone one of mock disappointment. "Expecting someone else?"

 

The Alpha was glaring at her now, and a small laugh escaped Jenna's lips. Was this little thing seriously trying to establish some air of composure even as she shook like a leaf in her fists?

 

"For the record," Jenna continued with enthusiasm, "you actually do have to answer me. Your warden let me in, and that means you're my charge until she returns. " Jenna gave the little thing her widest smile as she watched her eyes widen. "It's a matter of responsibility, you see. Can't just ignore you, that would be neglectful. Of course, this means that I'm free to...discipline any insubordination. Do you understand that?"

 

An audible gulp made its way to Jenna's ears, and she watched with pleasure as what little fire the girl had in her eyes disappeared as she nodded.

 

"Good." Jenna rose to her feet, and took a seat on the edge of Claire's bed. "Now let's try again, but with a much simpler question: What's your name, little one?"

 

"N-N-Naomi," the little wretch replied. Jenna couldn't help but sneer at the stuttering little thing.

 

"Well, Naomi, I'm Jenna, and I believe you still owe me an answer. So..." Jenna said, tilting her head as she brought Naomi within a few inches of her eyes, "were you expecting someone else?"

 

"Yes..." the girl replied, her shivering intensifying a bit in clear discomfort at this closer proximity.

 

"And did that someone's name happen to be Claire?" Jenna asked.

 

A slow nod was Naomi's reply.

 

"Now why in the world would you be that happy to see your warden, hm?" Jenna asked, crossing her legs and stroking her chin with her free hand, her elbow resting on her thigh. Naomi's immediate response was to look away, prompting Jenna to bring her thumb down onto the smaller girl's head and roughly rub at her scalp. Just a small reminder to the girl of her current position. "Well? I'm not going to play around with you. I do expect answers, and I expect them to be delivered quickly."

 

"She...she wants to help me," Naomi squeaked out.

 

Jenna's caressing thumb froze in place, and the constant smile she had kept on her face quickly disappeared as the gears in her head started to turn.

 

Claire wanted to help this criminal? Help a girl that had attacked a Beta so...so viciously? What was wrong with her? Why the hell would she ever want to help an Alpha that had committed that crime? Especially when the victim was her fucking brother of all people?

 

Claire's brother...

 

Jenna began to calm down as things began to make sense to her, and she once again put some space between her face and the girl. If there was one thing that could soften Claire up...

 

"You apologized to him, didn't you?" she asked, her voice going monotone.

 

"I...I asked Ms. Lindon to tell him for me," Naomi replied, looking away from Jenna as she did so. "She said he was thankful...that it made him feel better."

 

Jenna simply stared at the girl in her hand, her eyes narrowed as she processed that little statement. There was silence between them for a moment, and the little girl eventually turned to face her once again.

 

"I really...I want to tell him sorry myself, though," Naomi said, "I have to tell him that myself."

 

"And do you think that will make everything better?" Jenna snapped, her composure shaking for just a moment before returning to normal. "Do you think an apology absolves you of what you did? That it's going to get him out of that tank any faster? Give him months of his life back? Help in his rehab?"

 

Naomi's mouth began to open, likely in some attempt at a defense, but Jenna was going to have none of it.

 

"So out of all the goals you could set for yourself to try to make this right," Jenna said, switching gears as her grip loosening a bit, "you just want to deliver a personal apology?"

 

"It won't mean anything if I don't tell him myself," Naomi replied sheepishly.

 

"And I'm sure that little thought will help assuage your conscience going forward," Jenna replied, allowing a trickle of venom to flow off her tongue, "and it certainly put Claire off of actually doing her job, so good work on that one."

 

"What do you mean?" Naomi asked, clearly confused. Jenna couldn't help but snicker.

 

"What I mean, little girl, is that "helping you" is nowhere in our job description," Jenna said, the cheer returning to her voice. "Claire is not there to help you. She is not there to be your friend. She is not there to better you in any way."

 

Jenna couldn't help but lick her lips as she watched that tiny face go dead, those eyes widen.

 

"She is there, Naomi, to deliver justice for what you did.," Jenna taunted. "To repay your actions in all their power, their malice, and their cruelty. She is there to insure that by the time she's done with you, you're just as terrified of us as the poor man you mutilated was of you. So terrified that you never, ever think of doing what you did again."

 

"And yet," Jenna continued, her eyes narrowing and her lips curling in disgust as she looked at Naomi's shell shocked face, "one meaningless little word and you escape it. I don't understand where the justice is in that, Naomi. "Sorry" is an easy word to say, especially when it behooves you to utter it. It's a word free of responsibility. Of obligation."

 

"I meant it!" Naomi yelled at her, the girl's face flashing in anger. "I hate what I did! I'm going to be ashamed of it for the rest of my life!"

 

"And for what little it's worth, I believe you on that," Jenna replied, "but saying you're sorry is just the first step on the road before you, Naomi. A road that should have you sharing in the pain and misery people like you inflict on others for no other reason than the fact that they can't stop you."

 

"You should never have been transferred out of my custody," Jenna spat, and she began slowly tightening her fist, her heart skipping a beat at the expression of horror on Naomi's face. "Because I don't think you understand just how far-reaching the effects of what you did to that man are going to be. What he...what every Beta inevitably goes through, after someone like you gets their hands on one of them. And you need to understand that."

 

"So this is what you're going to do, Naomi, because it's the fucking least you can do. It's the least you owe to your victim, for being a better person than you are and accepting that little apology you relayed, because I assure you that he knew what it would do for you in the eyes of his sister. You are going to think long and hard about how you can best repent for what you did. How you can make things right. And by the time your little vacation is over, I want to hear a better fucking idea than saying you're fucking sorry, is that understood?"

 

Jenna's fingers gave a sharp squeeze, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from the object of her scorn, followed by a frenzied nodding of her little head.

 

"It really is disgusting to me, Naomi," Jenna said, delivering another squeeze and smirking at the resulting scream, "it's disgusting that she's cheating her brother out of the justice that he deserves, because of one little word. Because she's soft. Especially..."

 

Another squeeze. Another scream.

 

"Especially since she's just as culpable for his current condition as you are," Jenna continued as she began to seethe with a quiet anger. " Because I told her years ago to put her foot down and stop his little jogs into that area of town. Because I knew what was going to happen, because Alphas can't help themselves." Another squeeze. "But she refused to follow my advice. She even decked me when I took my concerns directly to her brother. And then this happened."

 

"And that's a decision I have to live with."

 

Jenna's stomach tightened at the familiar voice behind her. That wasn't supposed to be heard. She had just wanted to vent to someone, to get a little bit of that frustration out of her system.

 

Jenna slowly turned around to face Claire, who was standing in the doorway of her room. She couldn't help but bite her lower lip. Claire was always a sight to take in after she finished a workout, her toned body practically glowing. Jenna, while in decent shape, wasn't the sporty girl that her friends were. She couldn't help but admire their physiques when they showed them off. Only Claire could get this reaction from her, though. Melody was far too passive, too reluctant with her strength. Claire, though, was always eager to flaunt the fruits of her hard work. To drive in her athletic superiority.

 

Jenna couldn't help but feel a bit of a tingle as she wondered if Claire was going to hit her.

 

"I get the feeling that's more than enough of that," Claire deadpanned, breaking Jenna out of her thoughts. Claire was approaching her now, and Jenna couldn't help but notice that her friend had her left hand cupped against her abdomen. Soon enough, Claire was standing directly in front of her, peering down at Jenna with a face that dripped with disappointment. The upturned palm of Claire's free hand suddenly appeared next to Jenna's elevated fist.

 

"Give her here," Claire commanded, and there was no hesitation to comply from Jenna. She quickly, and gently, placed the frozen stiff girl into Claire's palm and watched as her fingers firmly closed in around her.

 

"I told you to leave her alone, Jenna," Claire remarked. "Why did you not do that?" Her face continued to exude nothing but disappointment in Jenna's actions.

 

"Because I felt she needed to understand," Jenna replied.

 

"Understand what?"

 

"Several things." Jenna left it at that. She didn't regret what she had done, the seeds she had sown. Naomi seemed like an introspective girl, and maybe she would take advantage of what Jenna had told her.

 

The pain, though, was nothing the girl didn't deserve.

 

"Does this have to do with Vincent?" Claire asked, her voice tinged with concern. Jenna averted her eyes, and she knew Claire would deduce the correct answer just from that.

 

Claire looked at her for a moment before backing up a step, her face never changing.

 

"Go sit with Melody," she said, "I'll be in there shortly to start with Marion. We're not done with this talk, though, not by a longshot. Do you get me?"

 

Jenna gave a curt nod before rising to her feet, and Claire promptly turned away from her to kneel down in front of the enclosures. She was still there as Jenna left the room.

 

********

 

Stephanie had spent the last several minutes huddled against Claire's abdomen, the damp fabric of her tank-top providing a barrier between Stephanie and the woman's chiseled abs. The walk back to Claire's home had been mostly silent, and Stephanie had ridden comfortably in her warden's immense palm for most of the trip. It was upon reaching the home that she found herself in her current position, still a fraction of her height and sandwiched between Claire's hand and her abs.

 

There had been some talking, but Stephanie frankly didn't care about it or pay attention to it. She was still drained from her experience at the mercy of this titanic woman's toes, and she simply wanted to get back to her enclosure and collapse.

 

The feeling of her stomach rising seemed to signal that Claire had lowered her body, and Stephanie perked up in slight anticipation as Claire's hand began to part somewhat from her abdomen, washing Stephanie in light.

 

"Naomi," she heard Claire ask from above, "I know you're feeling down right now, but...would you want to do me a favor?"

 

Stephanie couldn't quite hear the response, but she could only assume an affirmative as Claire began speaking once again.

 

"I need you to look after something...or, well, someone while I go tend to Marion. I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone right now. Can you do that for me?"

 

Stephanie's eyes widened. Claire...she wasn't going to do what Stephanie thought she was going to do, was she?

 

Stephanie got her answer as Claire's palm flattened below her, spilling her into its center. Claire's fingers soon joined her, holding her gently against the sweaty palm.

 

"Please, don't," Stephanie attempted to yell, but her vocal chords were still exhausted. The words come out as little more than a whisper. Stephanie didn't want this. She didn't want her friend to see her so weak, so fragile.

 

So small.

 

Her transport reached its destination soon enough, and Stephanie watched with some dread as Claire's fingers began to unfurl until eventually she found herself deposited gently on the floor of an enclosure, struggling to remain standing.

 

Then Stephanie saw her. Naomi. Dressed in shorts and a top similar to her own.

 

Looking down at her. A look of wonder and excitement upon her face as she began to slowly saunter closer toward Stephanie.

 

A drop of moisture splashed down next to her, and Stephanie glanced up to see Claire's billboard-sized face looking down at her, apparently somewhat curious as to how this was going to go. Her face was still glistening with sweat from her run, so that explained that drop of liquid.

 

Turning her attention back down, Stephanie stumbled back in shock as she found herself suddenly looking at a pair of light-brown knees. Her legs finally gave out, and as she lost her balance and began to fall backwards, her vision panned up Naomi's amazonian body as it began to move in closer to her at startling speed.

 

Stephanie found her fall suddenly halted as Naomi's massive hands grasped her under her armpits. As she took in Naomi's arms, each one now nearly as long as she used to be tall, Stephanie noticed that she was slowly getting closer and closer to her friend's body.

 

"It's okay, Stephanie," Naomi said softly, bringing her child-sized friend closer and closer as she knelt down to Stephanie's level. "I've got you."

 

Stephanie suddenly found her face being buried in Naomi's prominent chest, her cheeks blushing slightly as she felt Naomi's arms wrap around her and pull her into a tight, comfortable hug. Stephanie briefly wanted to fight her way out of this somewhat embarrassing position, but she just didn't have the energy. Even if she did, Naomi was just far too strong for her to have a chance at getting away. Besides, this was...comfortable. Naomi's chest had always been large, but now it was something else. To Stephanie's chagrin, she found herself nuzzling lightly into the two breasts, her eyes beginning to close.

 

If anyone had to see her like this, Stephanie was ultimately glad it was Naomi. She was so sweet, so caring. So...soft. This kind of strength suited her in situations like this.

 

"Do you want to go take a nap?" Naomi sweetly asked, still holding her friend tightly."You kinda look like hell."

 

"Mmhmm," was all Stephanie could manage as a response. Soon, she found herself being lifted and cradled into Naomi's arms, held firmly against her friend's chest as she began to walk toward her bed.

 

"She's going to be this size for another hour or so," a voice called from above. Probably Claire. Stephanie didn't really care.

 

Soon after, she found herself lying down on Naomi's bed, the larger girl right behind her and holding onto her tightly. Stephanie could feel those two soft orbs pressing into the back of her head, but that was fine. As Stephanie began to drift off, Naomi suddenly called up to Claire.

 

"Did something happen with her?" she asked. "She seems really...out of it."

 

Stephanie found herself suddenly awake again as she heard a sigh escape Claire's lips.

 

"She had an...episode, of sorts," the massive woman replied, and Stephanie noted how sad she looked as she peered down at the two girls. "I think she remembered something. During our session."

 

"What were you doing?" Naomi asked.

 

Stephanie began to wiggle, she didn't like where this was going. She didn't want to listen to this, or talk about this. She didn't want them to talk about this.

 

A quick squeeze from Naomi's powerful arms put a stop to that.

 

"I was running with her," Claire said, "in my shoe."

 

Stephanie couldn't help but feel Naomi's body shudder, and her grip around her smaller body tighten.

 

"Well, if anything was going to get a reaction from her, that would probably be it," Naomi replied, her tone...pitying?

 

"Please, stop," Stephanie whimpered. The only response from Naomi was that she suddenly felt his current caretaker's nose begin to nuzzle gently into her scalp.

 

"I just don't....has she been in that little shell since the incident?"

 

"Oh, no," Naomi answered, and Stephanie once again began to struggle.

 

"Don't!" she rasped, "You...you don't have any right to tal-" Stephanie's pleading was cut off, though, as Naomi sealed her mouth shut with just a couple of digits from her right hand, and a gentle shush emanated from the larger girl.

 

"She was actually really devastated for a while after it happened," Naomi said. "She didn't become like this until a little while after."

 

Stephanie bit at the soft flesh of the finger resting on her lips. It was all she could think to do, to try to end this conversation. There was a slight flinch from her larger friend as she pulled her finger away, but it soon returned and Naomi used the rest of her hand to firmly shut Stephanie's mouth.

 

"What happened?" Claire asked, her voice confused. "What changed her like this?"

 

"Oh, that's easy to pinpoint," Naomi said, ignoring Stephanie as she continued to struggle.

 

"Marion happened."

 

 

 Marion leaned back against the wall of her rounded, glassy prison, her tongue clicking in agitation. Her current position was uncomfortable, and a little humiliating.

 

After being rudely woken up by...whoever this particular bitch was, and having a finger shoved into her face, her new handler had taken a little stroll through the house. The thumb had never left, and Marion had barely been able to breathe as this oaf had gone about her business, cheerfully humming as she did so. Eventually, Marion had found herself deposited on a glass coffee table, but with no time to make any sort of run for it. The woman had promptly slammed what appeared to be an overturned shot glass down on top of her, the bottom just barely avoiding contact with her head, before walking off once again.

 

That had been several minutes ago, and Marion had since slumped down onto the glass floor of the table, her back propped up by the glass and her knees hugged in close to her chest.

 

The most annoying part was having her wonderful little dream interrupted, and it brought a satisfied smirk to her face to recall it. To picture that little Beta trash buried underneath her pretty, bare toes. To hear his screams as she steadily increased the pressure she placed upon him. To feel his bones begin to give and break beneath them.

 

A shiver went down her spine as she was forced to imagine what the end of that dream would have been, had it not been interrupted. The thought of her toes continuing to press down onto that little toy, smashing him into a wonderful red pulp beneath them.

 

Of course, she didn't really have to imagine it. She had experience to go on, after all. Crushing a Beta beneath her foot had been an obsession of her's for three years, until she had turned thirteen. After hearing about what Stephanie had done to what the girl used think of as her brother, after bringing the girl into her fold...after getting Stephanie to share all the delectable details of crushing the thing beneath her toes, how could she not have been curious?

 

It had taken three years, but she had eventually gotten her hands on some little Beta girl that had been sneaking around the outskirts of her home in the Alpha district. Her age, maybe just a little older. Dressed in what may as well have been rags. That had been all Marion had needed. The Omegas would never have allowed that girl to be dressed like that if she had registered with them. That meant there wouldn't be a peep at her disappearance.

 

Even now, Marion could remember every detail of that day. The thought of holding the girl in her pocket as she ran home to her family's penthouse suite. Of eagerly kneading the thing with her fingers on the elevator ride upward. Of rushing to her room and dumping the girl onto her floor as she locked the door behind her.

 

Of doing what God blessed her with the power to do. Of fulfilling God's purpose for that weak, pitiful creature.

 

Of crushing the fucking life out of it, with every ounce of strength she had, as a sign of the greatness He had imbued her with through every aspect of her birth.

 

Those with power, with wealth, with prestige. Those were the people God blessed, there was no doubt in Marion's mind about that. Her family had been amongst the world's elite for generations, with no sign of their supremacy ending any time soon. Such an obvious blessing gave her undeniable power, not just over Betas, but over anyone. And having power meant there was an obligation to use it, and what better way to use it than to add to her own greatness? Whether it be by surrounding herself with pretty accessories like Naomi, or with strong shields like Stephanie. Marion had a right to these things, a right that she recognized and exercised whenever it struck her to do so.

 

Of course, just as God had so obviously blessed her, He had obviously cursed the Betas through the simple truth of their existence. They were so weak, so vulnerable, so pitiful. God had no love for them, that much was certain, but God had obviously put them on Earth for a reason, and Marion had no doubts about what that reason could be.

 

The Betas existed to serve. Whatever need their betters had for them, the Betas were meant to fulfill it. They weren't people, they were whatever a superior person like Marion wanted them to be. Those roles were what gave their pitiful little lives some element of purpose, some meaning, and Marion saw nothing wrong with providing and fulfilling that purpose to her inferiors, whether they be Alpha or Beta. She had wanted to experience the feeling of crushing one of the tiny things beneath her feet, and God had blessed her with that chance. Who was she to deny that girl her clear purpose? Especially when it coincided so wonderfully well with Marion's own wants.

 

And the blessings hadn't stopped there. Marion had other urges, and God had provided her with an outlet for each one over the last five years. At one point she had even found a little Beta to keep as her pet, and she had truly loved the little thing as such in their year together. He had been obedient, understanding of his place as Marion's possession. Marion had been fond of that aspect of him. Life would be so much better for so many of the little things if they simply accepted their place in life and halted this silly attempt to grasp things beyond their means.

 

Unfortunately, Marion's time with her little pet was forced into an early end. She had gotten word that some Alphas had been investigating the area as part of Aegis, looking for some Beta that had gone missing in the area at around the same time Marion had obtained her pet. Marion may have loved her little pet, but he had clearly become a risk.

 

Marion had not been without mercy. The little guy had been faithful to her in his role, and she rewarded that by quickly popping his head between her thumb and forefinger as he slept. The body had been thrown into the toilet afterward, a simple flush and a wash of her hands removing any traces that he had ever existed.

 

It had been such a waste, Marion thought. Such a stupid, hideous waste.

 

All because of the fucking Omegas. Those huge, oafish beings that wanted to...help the Betas. To propel them to a place in the world that wasn't for them. That they didn't deserve. That they hadn't earned.

 

Marion knew - with every fiber of her being, she knew - that the Omegas were abominations. Against nature. Against God. They had simply appeared, and forced that stupid vision of theirs on the world around them. They had undermined thousands upon thousands of years of nature in their stupid little quest, spitting in the face of God with every step.

 

It disgusted Marion, how they used the power at their disposal. How they used it to...protect creatures that were no different from dust mites to them. How they felt obligated to offer that protection. Obligated to make them greater than what God had chosen to provide them. Power came with obligations, but that was not one of them. It was sickening. It was wrong.

 

And here she was, about to suffer for their idiocy. Marion couldn't help but sneer in contempt at the absurdity of it.

 

A sliding motion across her back broke Marion's concentration, and she brought her hands to the glass floor for support as her glass prison was lifted from atop her.

 

The stranger who had absconded with her was back, kneeling over her with a warm smile on her full lips. The glass was soon placed down close by, a vibration pulsing through the table as it was set. Marion's eyes went wide as a large, thick glass bottle joined it, easily three times her height and filled with a dark brown liquid. Was that...rum?

 

Marion's attention returned to the woman, still smiling as she began to take a seat on the couch behind her. Marion finally began to take in the woman's features, her amber eyes being the first thing she noticed, and they went well with her tanned skin. Her honey-blonde hair was pulled back, likely into a pony-tail. A tight, sleeveless business blouse adorned her upper body and accentuated her rather large bust. More than that, the sleeveless nature showed off her strong, toned arms, and Marion couldn't help but note that they seemed a bit thicker with muscle than even Claire's did. A black business skirt seemed to finish the woman's ensemble, halting just inches above her knees and riding up her legs as she came to a seat, her powerful thighs on display as she casually crossed her legs

 

The woman seemed to enjoy showing off her strong figure for how weak-willed she was, Marion thought with a smirk. This was exactly her problem with the Omegas. For as strong as this woman likely was, Marion had noticed immediately that she was hesitant to use it. She had given some half-hearted squeeze after snatching Marion from her bed, and it was laughable how ineffective it had been. Marion knew a show of false bravado when she saw one, and this woman oozed it.

 

"Hello, Marion," the woman said, her voice warm and pleasant. So the woman apparently knew who she was.

 

"Let me introduce myself," she continued, smile still on her face and voice still full of warmth. "My name is Melody King. I work as Assistant Regional Liaison with Aegis."

 

"And?" Marion asked with some level of contempt. This woman seemed dull.

 

"And I was hoping to have a little talk with you, before Enforcer Lindon returned home."

 

With that, the woman reached toward the bottle of liquor she had deposited on the table earlier and quickly removed the cap. Marion watched with some interest as she began to pour it into the glass that had imprisoned her, the dark liquid cascading into it until it was sufficiently filled. The bottle returned to the table, and the hand that had wielded it began to slowly slide the glass in her direction until it was only a few feet away. The glass suddenly tilted toward her, and Marion backed away a few steps as it halted, the liquid creeping close to spilling off the edge.

 

"Would you care to share a drink with me, Marion?" Melody asked from above, that sweetness still present.

 

"I'm underage," Marion replied flatly. What was this woman's deal?

 

"Well, so am I," Melody replied, "and I won't tell anyone if you won't."

 

Marion narrowed her eyes. The woman seemed genuine, and more importantly, respectful. She'd happily take alcohol if it was offered. Reaching her hands up above the rim of the glass, she carefully cupped them together and dipped them into what she could reach of the liquor and then retrieved them. Bringing her lips to her hands, she quickly took the rum into her mouth and swallowed. letting the spicy alcohol wash across her tongue.

 

The glass returned to its upright position, and Marion watched as it rose to Melody's lips where it was quickly consumed in a single, quick gulp before returning back to the table.

 

"I want to talk to you, Marion, because I had a visitor this morning. One that was very concerned about you."

 

Marion took a moment to digest that, but after a few seconds, she felt a small smile beginning to form on her lips.

 

"More precisely," Melody continued, "it was your father. And he had a very generous proposition for me, Marion."

 

Melody's right hand suddenly went to her side, and retrieved the smartphone she had apparently placed there. Taking a quick look at it, Marion heard the distinct sound of a few taps on a screen before the giant woman leaned over slightly, and placed the phone close to the empty shot glass before returning to her former position.

 

"What kind of proposition?" Marion asked, a growing sense of glee forming within her.

 

"Simply put," Melody stated, still all smiles, "in return for a sizable donation to a Beta charity of my choosing, I keep an eye on your during the duration of your internment. I make things go by...easier for you."

 

Marion's grin grew wider as she took that statement in, her teeth baring as Melody continued to watch over her with that same gentle, comforting smile.

 

She knew her daddy would find a way to help her.

 

 Marion was practically trembling in delight as she continued to soak in this development. She truly had God's blessing, she thought, this stroke of divine providence just further proof of that simple fact. Having all that power, that influence, at her beck and call was an amazing thing. It was a feeling only a handful of people on Earth could truly know. It was something the masses could only dream of having as they went about their worthless, pitiful lives. Something they would curse people like Marion for having, unable to come to terms with the simple truth of why she towered above them in life.

 

It was because she deserved it. That was what these blessings meant.

 

"How much?" Marion asked, her voice quivering in excitement. She needed to know, needed to hear her importance in real-world terms.

 

"Two million," the Omega responded simply, that gentle smile still present and a hint of adoration in her voice.

 

Marion couldn't help but giggle. Two million dollars spent without hesitation, solely for the benefit of her own comfort. Amazing.

 

"It's nice, being at the top, isn't it?" Melody asked, and Marion watched as a powerful arm reached for the bottle of rum once more before pouring another glass full.

 

"Of course it is," Marion replied with some level of arrogance as she eyed the liquor.

 

"Another drink?"

 

Marion vigorously nodded, and Melody once again tipped over the glass to allow Marion to take another handful of the liquid to gulp down. She was starting to like this woman a bit. She seemed to know how to treat someone like her as they should be treated.

 

Still, there was one little thing that was bothering Marion as she watched Melody down the rest of the glass.

 

"So what was that squeeze about back there?" Marion inquired, and Melody snorted lightly.

 

"A little show for my friend," she replied, "I didn't want her to think something was...off. Most of my fellow employees wouldn't take kindly to this type of deal."

 

"So what makes you different?" Marion questioned with a tilt of her head.

 

"A few things," Melody answered, steepling her fingers on a knee.

 

"First," she started, "it's a matter of simple practicality. That money will help a lot of people, so it only seemed logical to take it."

 

Marion nodded. That made sense, though it was a shame this woman was deciding to put such a large amount of money toward those little things rather than using it for herself.

 

"Second," Melody continued, "this whole punishment deal isn't my thing in the first place. I just can't do it, not like someone like Claire can. I had to do it once, and I barely made ten minutes. It's why I'm stuck in an office job of sorts, but I suppose that worked out wonderfully for you, didn't it?"

 

Marion had to smile at that. Not just at another blessing becoming apparent, but at the fact that her initial appraisal of the woman had been correct: She really was weak-willed if she couldn't enjoy the benefits of her power..

 

"Third," Melody said, her voice lowering, "my little sister is an Alpha, Marion, and that gives me a different perspective of sorts. She had to go through one of these little ordeals herself, you see, because she decided to have a little...harmless fun with a Beta. It was an awful experience for her."

 

Now that piqued Marion's interest. She was passively aware that there were mixed families among the Omegas, but she had never heard of an Alpha member of one of those families actually getting into trouble for Beta abuse. Moreover, a smug smirk tugged at her lips at that information. Not even a member of one of these freakish Omega families could get away with going against their rules, and yet here she was, doing just that.

 

"Finally, Marion, let me ask a little question of you. Would that be fine?"

 

"Only if I get another drink," Marion replied with a smile. Melody laughed lightly, and once again reached a hand out to the bottle.

 

"Of course," she said as another glass was filled up, "I was feeling that it was time for another drink myself."

 

Marion was once again offered the glass, and she greedily consumed what was offered before the glass rose to Melody's smiling lips and emptied once more before returning to rest on the glass table.

 

"So ask away!" Marion exclaimed. She was feeling warm, now. Feeling good.

 

"Do you think people are created equally, Marion?" Melody asked, her tone somber but that gentle smile still present.

 

Marion practically threw her head back in laughter.

 

"Fuck no!" she replied, a bubbly giggle following.

 

"And why do you believe that?" Melody asked inquisitively.

 

"Because that's not how shit works," Marion replied with a smile. "Everyone has their place in life. Some at the bottom, some at the top, and then some in the middle. Everyone is where they are for a reason."

 

"Oh?" Melody inquired with a raised eyebrow.

 

"Yes. God put me at the top, because that's where I belong: Above everyone else. Taking what I want, doing whatever I desire. That's what power is for."

 

"And the others?" Melody asked, a warm sense of curiosity in her voice.

 

"The middle people are just here for support. People like me, we can take them and turn them into something useful, something productive for us, and in return we make them comfortable. Because it suits us."

 

"The things at the bottom," Marion continued, her tongue wetting her lips, a boldness now raging within her, "they're just there to be used. To be consumed, to be made part of and to fuel their betters in getting what they want."

 

"Like the fucking Betas are," she finished, baring her teeth in a hungry smile.

 

"Well, you're certainly an honest young woman," Melody responded with an amused grin.

 

"Why shouldn't I be?" Marion stated, teeth still bared. "The truth is the truth, and when it comes down to it, I shouldn't even be here. Place is everything, Melody, and I simply did what my place allows me to do."

 

"Just like it's my place to do what I want," Marion said with a an excited breath, "it was that little shit's place to sit there and fucking take it."

 

The sound of a door opening behind her suddenly shifted Marion's attention, and she took a look behind her to see Claire pass through the threshold and into the house, shutting the door behind her. She must have been out exercising, as a film of sweat coated her skin, and Marion noted that she seemed to be clutching her abdomen.

 

Marion watched as Claire turned to regard Melody on the couch, the Omega's gaze eventually shifting to her. Marion gave her a snarky smile. She couldn't wait to see Melody put the bitch in her place.

 

"Where's Jenna?" Claire asked, shifting her attention back to Melody.

 

"Still in your room, I believe," Melody answered calmly.

 

Marion caught an uttered "fuck" from the woman before she stormed off in the opposite direction. She didn't know what the problem was, but she felt a certain pleasure at the woman's annoyance.

 

"In any case," Melody started, and Marion turned her attention back to the smiling woman, "no, there's nothing wrong with being honest. In fact, Marion, I think we should all aspire to be honest when it comes to sharing who we are as individuals. When it comes to what drives us, or what we believe in."

 

"I agree, Marion" the giant woman continued, amber eyes still locked onto Marion and lips still curled into a gentle smile, "People really aren't created as equals. It's why we're having this talk. Your family has been a pillar of this community for generations, influential beyond words. It's only natural that someone with your...place benefits from it, right?"

 

"Exactly!" Marion nearly screamed, her excitement palpable. God, if she really wasn't taking a liking to this woman. She understood how things were. How much someone like Marion mattered. She could do without the apparent concern for the Beta trash, but...well, Marion had cured someone of that inclination before. Maybe curing an Omega of that affliction would be a nice follow-up, she thought with some amusement.

 

The thud of shoes being pressed down onto tile behind her broke Marion out of her thoughts, and she turned around once again to face the sudden noise.

 

Approaching was the other girl that had been with Melody, and she did not look particularly happy. Marion took the girl's features in as she approached, having only gotten a cursory glance at her upon being woken up. She seemed rather petite, at least compared to Melody and Claire, with wavy, strawberry-blonde hair cascading down to her shoulders. She had a fairer complexion compared to the other two as well, as well as none of the apparent muscle definition.

 

Still, Marion figured she was pretty enough. Her skinny jeans fit her well, showing off a pleasant enough figure. The purple, short-sleeved blouse she wore certainly didn't accentuate much anything of note, though.

 

All in all, not nearly as pretty as her, Marion thought with a smug sense of pride.

 

The woman had been eying Marion with some level of contempt during her approach, and that just made her happier. She could dislike her as much as she wanted, it didn't matter anymore. She had protection now.

 

"So how did your little introduction go?" the girl asked, taking a seat in the black leather recliner to the left of the table and lounging into it, her light blue eyes still focused on Marion.

 

"Oh, very well," Melody replied with a bit of playfulness. "We had a very pleasant conversation, didn't we, Marion?"

 

"You could call it that," Marion replied, still watching the other girl. Her face twisted in confusion, and Marion giggled.

 

Movement to her right caught Marion's attention, and she took a look back at Melody just in time to see the woman's massive hand moving back toward the liquor. Melody ignored both, however, and she instead retrieved the phone she had laid down earlier and brought it to her face, a few taps making their way to Marion's ears.

 

"So what exactly is she so happy about?" the other woman asked, her thin lips curling in disgust.

 

"Don't worry about it, Jenna," Melody responded coolly, "We'll get to it soon enough. I just have some things to discuss with Claire about this one."

 

"Speaking of which," Marion piped up, still feeling warm and loose from the liquor, "the bitch fucking hit me yesterday."

 

"I think someone needs a lesson in manners," the other girl - Jenna, apparently - spat, and Marion took a step back as the girl began to reach a large, slender hand toward her.

 

Her momentary fear was for nothing, however. Melody's larger hand quickly intercepted Jenna.

 

"None of that, now," Melody stated, her voice the very definition of serene. Marion chuckled as the girl mouthed a very clear "What the fuck?" at her protector before withdrawing her hand, a snarl on her lips. Marion couldn't help but stick out her tongue.

 

"We're going to have a chat with her, Marion," Melody stated comfortingly, "about exactly what kind of treatment you deserve."

 

Marion didn't think she was ever going to be able to drop this smile. Everything was just going so well, exactly as it should. This elation this liberation brought her was wonderful, and she felt it would only get better when Claire returned.

 

But then the world itself seemed to shake.

 

"MARION!"

 

For the briefest of moments, Marion thought God himself had just shouted down upon her, but that voice had been very feminine. Loud, thunderous, and wrathful, but still feminine.

 

Her reaction remained the same. Her eyes went wide, her smile gone as if it had never existed, her body trembling as she slowly turned to face the hammering sound of oncoming footsteps.

 

Claire was returning, and a wave of horror overcame Marion as she took in the woman's face. A feral snarl that made the one she had received from Jenna look like it had been from a kitten exposed her white teeth. Claire's eyes were wide with a terrible anger, and and each heavy step made it more and more apparent that they were focused squarely on Marion as the woman approached.

 

Moreover, Marion couldn't help but noticed that the woman had her right hand elevated to be level with her chest, and her fingers were wiggling furiously as her left hand seemed to be massaging her wrist.

 

Not just that, but...were her eyes playing tricks on her? Everything around that hand seemed to be...curving? What the fuck?

 

Before she knew it, though, Claire was upon her, and Marion was looking up at her towering form.

 

Far above, that right hand was being lifted into the air, free from the grip of its companion.

 

Then it came crashing down, fingers outstretched, palm aimed directly at her.

 

Marion could do nothing. She had frozen entirely the moment the hand began its descent. All she could do was watch as it plummeted like a meteor down onto her.

 

Until, just like with Jenna, it was intercepted. The hand clashed directly with Melody's as if delivering a lo-five, and Melody's fingers promptly wrapped around and contained the threatening appendage.

 

Marion was not entirely spared. The moment the hands clashed, a deafening roar invaded Marion's ears, and she found herself being pushed to the ground by some invisible force. What the hell..?

 

"What are you doing, Melody?" Claire seethed from above. Marion glanced up, her breathing heavy, meeting Claire's hateful gaze as her arm trembled against Melody's overpowering grip.

 

"Stopping you from doing something stupid before we have our little chat," Melody replied simply. "Now come over here and sit down next to me."

 

Claire glanced at Melody momentarily before once again looking at Marion,

 

"You don't understand," Claire said, her voice trembling.

 

"What don't I understand?"

 

"What she did to that fucking girl!" Claire nearly shrieked. "It's fucking sick!"

 

Marion snorted. The fuck was she talking about?

 

"Take your hand away, Claire, and calm down," Melody commanded. "You're not laying a finger on her until we finish our talk, anyway."

 

"Fine!" Claire exclaimed angrily, and Melody finally freed her hand.

 

"Now, what did she apparently do?" Melody inquired, shooting Marion a comforting smile.

 

"Her friend, Stephanie," Claire replied, exasperated, as she took a seat on the floor opposite Melody, "one of my other wards...she had a little brother, a Beta, and she killed him. By accident."

 

Marion snorted again. Was this it? She was expecting something that actually mattered.

 

"And she had loved her little brother, and was just wrecked by what she did."

 

Claire's breathing was getting audibly heavier with each second now, and she continued to glare down at Marion. Not just that, Marion noted, but were her eyes fucking glistening? Was this a joke?

 

"She was vulnerable, and then this...thing that you're protecting got her fucking hooks into her. She convinced her that her little brother was...was nothing! That he wasn't a person! That Betas aren't people!"

 

"And she's better off for it," Marion called up mockingly. With the liquor steeling her confidence and Melody there for her, she saw no need to hold herself back.

 

"What the fuck did you just say?" Claire growled down at her.

 

"You heard me," Marion replied. "They are fucking nothing, and she's better off after I helped her come to terms with that instead of letting her wallow in depression over something so...pointless."

 

Claire began to open her mouth for another retort, but she quickly found herself cut off by Melody.

 

"She's just so honest, isn't she?" the honey-blonde interjected. "I just adore it, that frankness."

 

"Do you remember what I said, Marion?" Melody suddenly asked, eyes locking onto Marion. "About honesty? About the importance of being honest about who we are?"

 

"I...do?" Marion stated, confused about the question.

 

"That's good, Marion. That's real good, because I think this is a wonderful time for me to be honest."

 

Marion simply looked at Melody, meeting her gaze. Nothing seemed to have changed...the woman still radiated warmth. What was she talking about?

 

"You made an unfortunate assumption, Marion," Melody stated, "and I played along with it."

 

"The thing is, Marion, I never actually said that I was going to abide by that little deal. That was all you."

 

Marion immediately and instinctually gulped. This...this couldn't be.

 

"I have no intention whatsoever of helping you, Marion," Melody finished.

 

"But...you took the money! You...you HAVE to!" she yelled up in light panic.

 

"Of course I took the money, Marion. I had a little fool with too much money and not enough brains offer me two million dollars up front in a deal he had no power in, with conditions he had no way of confirming. Why wouldn't I take it?"

 

"That..." Marion gasped, her panic increasing, "that...you can't do that! There...there has to be a law! You can't...you can't do that!"

 

Melody's resultant laughter was chilling in its softness.

 

"I see you're just as knowledgeable about us as your daddy is," Melody replied with a smile. "It's against the law for him to make that bribe, sure. The problem is that I'm not bound by those laws. Not a single organization in this country has any power over me, or any other Omega."

 

"We're accountable to one person, Marion, and she died laughing when I passed along what I did. She practically wanted to give me a medal when that donation cleared."

 

"You lying bitch!" Marion shrieked, her panic reaching its zenith. This was...this was bullshit! "You fucking LIAR!"

 

"Now, now, Marion," Melody scolded, "that's not entirely the case. I only really told the one lie. You see, I did lose control for just a second after getting you out of bed when I gave that little squeeze. I did have to cover that up."

 

Marion's breathing was getting heavier. This couldn't be happening. This oaf couldn't be doing this.

 

"Everything else, though?" Melody continued, "I was honest about that. I did take the money, just as I said I did, because it will help a lot of people. Now what else was there..."

 

Melody looked up thoughtfully for a moment, before an "Ah" preceded the return of her gaze onto Marion.

 

"I really can't do this whole "session" thing, either. I just don't have that capacity. But you see, Marion, this is a case where I'm more than happy to be honest about what kind of person I am. Sure, I get a lot of boring office work, but I also get to directly interact with so many wonderful people. I get to be...me."

 

"And I don't have to feel bad about it, Marion, because when it comes to dealing with people like you, the likes of Jenna and Claire here are more than happy to be who they are."

 

Those words suddenly broke the tunnel vision Marion had been applying to Marion, and she once again became aware of the other two titanesses sitting close by. Turning her head to the left, she immediately wished she hadn't. Jenna was sitting there, eyes fixated on her excitedly, a sickening grin on her massive face.

 

Marion shivered as the girl's slimy tongue ran across her lips.

 

She refused to look back at Claire.

 

"My little sister is an Alpha, by the way," Melody stated, regaining Marion's attention. "And she did get in some trouble over harassing a Beta a couple of years ago. The thing is, her session wasn't really an official one. It was something I did of my own initiative, with the help of my two friends here. It's the only one I've ever done, Marion, and it really was awful for me. It was awful for all of us. I hated doing that to my baby sister, but I don't regret it. None of us do. Do you want to know why?"

 

Marion simply stared at her, her brain still processing this information.

 

"We don't regret it, Marion, because it kept her from ever making that mistake again. It kept her from ever having to be in the position you are now in: in the custody and at the mercy of an Omega who doesn't love her, who won't go easy on her because of it."

 

Melody's features darkened, and to Marion it was as if she had just been thrown into a freezer. The comforting warmth the woman had radiated up until now had vanished with a slight furrow of her brow, a narrowing of her eyes, a straightening of her lips.

 

"Would you care to share with these two your thoughts on equality, Marion?" she asked, her voice cold and without emotion. "The ones you shared with me earlier, in particular?"

 

"Fuck you," Marion snapped. She wasn't going to say shit to her anymore.

 

"Oh, I love that," Melody remarked with a chuckle. "That honesty curls up and dies when you aren't in a safe space anymore, doesn't it? But no matter..."

 

"

Melody had her phone out once again, tapping and swiping.

 

"...they'll hear it anyway."

 

"Do you think people are created equally, Marion?" Melody's voice asked from the phone.

 

Marion's stomach lurched.

 

"Fuck no!" she heard herself reply with a giggle.

 

A loud click from behind caught Marion's attention, and out of reflex she broke eye contact with the the stone-faced Melody to face the noise.

 

Claire was scowling down at her, face cloaked with contempt, and for whatever reason Marion just could not look away. She was utterly transfixed with the woman's face, a feeling that escalated with every passing second as Marion's earlier comments rang out from Melody's phone and Claire's expression worsened.

 

"To be consumed..." Marion's recorded voice repeated.

 

Claire's right hand appeared appeared over the edge of the table then, and calmly advanced toward her. Marion just barely registered it, the woman's hateful eyes were far more captivating. She couldn't even muster a struggle as Claire's fingers closed around her, entrapping her in their firm embrace.

 

"...it was that little shit's place to sit there and fucking take it."

 

Marion's mouth was suddenly agape, and the air had evacuated her lungs. Her bones were practically screaming in agony, something Marion herself was unable to do as Claire's fist suddenly and steadily wrung the life out of her, quaking with anger as it went about its grim, cruel work.

 

She was going to die, and it horrified her. It wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to happen, not to her. Not over some pitiful fucking Beta.

 

Suddenly, though, the fingers relented and released Marion from their crushing grip, and Marion crumpled to the glass floor. Her arms clutched at her aching chest, and she desperately tried to catch her breath.

 

"Pour me a shot of that rum, and shut off that recording" Claire's voice commanded from above, and Marion heard and felt the movement of glass behind her. Marion's recovery was interrupted by the return of Claire's fingers, which promptly gripped her by the sides and gingerly lifted her body back before her tormentor's now cold eyes.

 

"That little concept means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Claire questioned. "Place, that is."

 

Marion tried to respond, but the only thing that escaped her lips was a raspy groan. Truthfully, she didn't even know what

 

"It's fine if you can't respond," Claire stated matter-of-factly, "that was mostly rhetorical, as you clearly do. It's clear that you like it, and that's fine."

 

"Because after some thought, Marion, I've decided that I like it, too. In fact, I like it so much that it's going to be the law of this household while you're here."

 

Claire's eyes were boring holes into her as she spoke every icy word, daring Marion to say something. Marion wanted to scream a hearty "Fuck you!" at the woman, but she doubted she could even form the words as her warden began to speak once again.

 

"So I've decided on two different places to use here Marion, and it's really very simple," Claire said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "You can either be a person, or you can't. It really is that simple, and I know you'll like this next part: Once again, you're part of an exclusive little club. You're the only person currently in this house that's a member of the latter."

 

"That isn't a membership you want," she finished, giving Marion's head a gentle rub with her thumb as Marion failed to stifle a whimper.

 

"And illustrating why you don't want that is going to be the focus of our session, little one," Claire explained, her smile widening just a bit.

 

"I'm going to eat you, Marion. I'm going to pop you into my mouth and swallow you whole."

 

"Y-y-you can't!" Marion croaked out, her eyes wide as she attempted to struggle against the fingers holding her. "You can't j-just...just eat a person!"

 

"But you aren't a person, Marion," Claire mocked. "I just established that fact. I don't care what you might be outside of this house, little girl, but in here you aren't any of it."

 

"And regardless," Melody interjected from behind, her voice calm and pleasant, "this is perfectly within the boundaries of the disciplinary plan that was put forth for an A-Class offense. Frankly, Marion, she can do most anything she wants with you."

 

"Exactly. Thank you, Melody."

 

"Don't worry, though, Marion" Claire continued in condescending reassurance, "you'll be just fine in there, at least this time. We digest slowly, you see, so two hours in there is perfectly fine. When it's time, I'll just throw you right back up."

 

Marion felt sick. This was....this was disgusting.

 

"Though there is something I want you to think on while you sit there inside me, Marion," the Omega stated. "I want you to sit there and think about the fact that this is simply a glimpse into your future at your current place. I want you to think about the fact that, after this session is over, you have 51 weeks to improve your standing. 51 weeks to become a person."

 

"Because if you don't, Marion," the Omega said in a sudden, violent hiss, "the next time you go in there, you won't be coming back up."

 

"That's fucking murder!" Marion screeched upward in utter desperation. "You can't! I don't care about this bullshit game you're doing, you can't fucking kill me! My daddy will make sure you fucking rot for it if you do!"

 

A chilling laugh was Claire's immediate response.

 

"Were you not paying attention to what Melody told you earlier, little one? Your daddy can't do shit, Marion. We're accountable to Kayla Everett, and no one else."

 

"What's more," Claire said, baring her teeth, "we Enforcers get one accident. One accident, while we feel our way through our first few charges. And I think you could be a wonderful first use of that, little girl, because an accident can easily happen."

 

Marion could only shudder. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. That other oaf...Melody...she should have been fucking stopping this!

 

A loud ping suddenly emanated from nearby, and Marion watched as Claire quickly moved her free hand to the strap on her toned bicep to retrieve the phone it held, bringing it next to where she held Marion. Claire's attention turned to it, and Marion could see her eyes scanning whatever was on the screen.

 

To her shock, Claire's dominating visage melted away. Her eyes lost their ferocity, becoming relaxed and tender. Her feral smile transformed into one of gentle delight.

 

"What's up?" Jenna asked softly from her seat at the side of the table.

 

"Corey's awake," Claire stated with soft adoration. "He wants to know if we can watch a movie together before his next bath."

 

Claire's eyes shifted upward, and Marion could only assume that she was looking at the other two Omegas.

 

"Do you two have anywhere to be?" she asked, putting her phone away. "I'd like it if we could watch something together, and I think it'll be good for him to be surrounded by friendly faces."

 

"I'd love to," Melody remarked, her voice sharing that same tone of gentle adoration that had belonged to Claire, with maybe a hint of something else. "I'm done in the office today, so I've nothing but time."

 

"I've got three hours to burn," Jenna replied merrily, "so count me in."

 

"Thanks, girls," Claire said with a content smile.

 

Marion thought this was disgusting. They were fucking gods compared to that little thing, and yet they were sitting here acting as if it was the most important thing in the world to watch a movie with fucking dust. She didn't understand these stupid girls. They were...God, they were just so wrong.

 

Claire's eyes returned to Marion, and the girl's terror returned as well. That gentle look was gone already, her face back to one of contemptuous domination.

 

"That was good timing, Marion. Do you know why?"

 

Marion's nerves caused her to immediately shake her head.

 

"It was good timing because it gives you one more thing to think about, while you sit in my stomach," Claire said with a lick of her lips.

 

"I want you to think about the fact that my big brother is going to be exactly where his place entitles him to be in this household, Marion, as we relax with a nice little movie. To know that his place is right above you as he rests on my stomach, having fun with people who love him, unaware of the little thing simmering in the stomach below him while he remains safe and sound."

 

Marion didn't have time to process that, as the hand holding her was suddenly on the move and Claire was getting farther away.

 

Before she knew it, she was being dunked into a cold liquid, some of it making its way into her nose and mouth...it was the rum. She was submerged for a few seconds before being lifted back out, only to be dunked in once again, then again. As she was lifted out for what appeared to be the last time, Claire started to speak once again.

 

"So I'm going to go hop in the shower after I have my little snack," she said, no attention being paid to Marion as she continued to bring her closer. "How about you two go talk to Corey and decide on a movie?"

 

"Sounds good," Melody remarked from across the table, as Marion finally found herself hanging in front of Claire's hungry lips. Suddenly, she was spun around, leaving Claire's face at her back and allowing Marion to see the onlooking faces of Jenna and Melody.

 

"Say "goodbye" to your new friends, Marion" Claire commanded from behind her, the woman's hot breath washing over her. "I promise that you'll see them again."

 

Marion stared at the two for a moment, her body trembling between Claire's fingers. Jenna was staring at her, teeth bared in a smile that could belie nothing less that utter euphoria at what Marion was about to experience.

 

Melody was the one that caught Marion's focus, however. The woman was just sitting there comfortably, a warm smile on her lips as she simply looked at Marion.

 

This was her fucking fault. She fucking tricked her. Got her loose and talking. Fucking lied.

 

She couldn't contain it anymore.

 

"Fuck you, you lying BITCH!" Marion shrieked at the top of her lungs. "You fucking -"

 

It was then that Marion felt two soft object close around her waist, sending a shiver up her spine. Looking down, her guttural reaction was to shriek in horror as she saw Claire's lips entrapping her from below. Her terror only increased as the lips began to move slowly upward, and she felt a wet, hot object probing at her from beyond them. Looking back up, she couldn't help but stare at Melody once again.

 

Melody caught her gaze immediately, and her tender smile widened as she lifted a hand up, slowly waving it back and forth.

 

"Bye-bye," she said with cheer.

 

And then the lips engulfed her completely, and Marion found her face being slammed down onto the rough surface of Claire's tongue, the woman's muggy saliva enveloping her.

 

Marion started to cry as the tongue slammed her into Claire's palate, the saliva within the warm cave steadily increasing in volume as the tongue began to work her over, shifting Marion into a little ball.

 

"God, please..." she thought, as Claire began to move her to the back of her throat. She didn't like this. She didn't want this. She wanted to be home. She wanted to be anywhere except here, in the mouth of this abomination. Somewhere where everyone knew and respected how important she was.

 

A small amount of light began to invade the mouth, and Marion thought for a moment that Claire might take her out.

 

These hopes were squashed as a torrent of dark liquid, the rum again, rushed into the mouth.

 

As Claire tilted her head back, and her tongue and throat muscles went to work in pushing Marion and the liquor beyond the event horizon at the back of her throat, Marion prayed. Prayed that God would help her, would save her from this awful creature.

 

And as Claire swallowed, sending Marion plummeting down into her esophagus which began pushing her down toward the awaiting stomach, Marion heard something. A voice within her head.

 

It was a feminine voice. One that was cold. Uncaring.

 

It uttered only a single, horrifying word.

 

"No."

 

 

 

 

 Sitting in the Lindons' study, Melody smiled warmly at the little gray capsule that now rested comfortably in the center of her upturned palm, a familiar feeling welling up inside her as she took in the features of its tiny little occupant. That short black hair, those friendly blue eyes...and that little wetsuit certainly accentuated his athletic body well. More important, though, was the person that was within that handsome little shell. That was what had steadily kindled the feelings of love and adoration she felt for him over the last seven years, stoking it from the light sparks of a first crush to the open flame of desire it had become the last three.

 

She never really got tired of that feeling, nor did she ever stop being amused by it. That such a tiny little guy had captivated her so...it was as if a mortal had stolen fire from Olympus, and that thought just made that fire rage more.

 

She had always been fond of Claire's older brother. When she was six, he was the coolest, cutest thing, and one of the best things about getting her handling clearance so early was that she could start holding and helping him whenever she came over to play with Claire. He had been so brave about that, too, despite the fact that the only other Omega who had ever handled him before then was Mrs. Abby. He had simply trusted wholeheartedly that she wouldn't harm him, and his assurances of that feeling of trust had done so much to shore up her confidence as she prepared to handle the visiting Beta classes. He had been just as supportive of Jenna when she, too, had been cleared.

 

And, despite how much they had teased Claire as she fell behind everyone else in having her control cleared, he had been there for his little sister as well. Encouraging her in her practice, building up her confidence. She knew for a fact that he had let Claire pick him up before being cleared to, and while it had been reckless, it had also been the sweetest thing. Being able to legally handle Betas had meant the world to Claire, and he had done everything he could to help her with that.

 

Of course, Melody hadn't stayed a little girl forever, and when she turned thirteen that innocent little crush had started to develop. By this point, Melody had developed an interest in soccer and was playing goalie on the Institute's team with Claire. Corey had been playing the same position on a Beta team for the past several years, and their schedules were aligned so that there were no conflicts. Corey had made it to every game to watch Claire play, and she remembered silently hoping that he paid attention to her as well. The elation she had felt when he first talked to her after a game, going over what she had done well and how she could improve...well, it had been palpable. It was a shared interest, and she had looked forward to every post-game chat.

 

When the opportunity to act as an assistant chaperone for his team opened up, she had practically jumped at it. The position itself was mostly meant as a bonding exercise, something extra to help acclimate the participating Omegas to their role as protectors. Mrs. Abby was usually the primary chaperone, but it was still effective in instilling what it was meant to. It was...dangerous, to let the Betas congregate on their own in a fairly open place. They could place a sonic emitter to deter wildlife, but Alphas were another story. They had a tendency to...interfere, so Dr. Everett had started sending chaperones with outdoor Beta sports teams to keep an eye on things.

 

Her first trip to one of his games had been amazing. Well before the game started, she had held her hand above the field, and it had been something else to see that her hand could almost cover the entire thing. As she watched them play, she couldn't help but picture them playing in her hand instead. Her little giggle when she thought about a player slipping and rolling safely into the crevice between two of her fingers had resulted in an embarrassed blush when Mrs. Abby scowled at her, along with several of the Beta spectators.

 

What had ultimately struck her, though, was just how aggressive the Betas were at the game. If God had blessed them with any particular strength, it was a ridiculous amount of stamina. They seemed to play at full bore all game, and the number of shots Corey had to defend compared to her own seemed insane. His reads and reactions had been superb every time, though. The only ball that got past him was on a penalty shot, but that came with five minutes left in the game and a 2-0 lead going into the shot. Corey's team ultimately won handily. She supposed the other goalie had played well too, but truthfully she hadn't paid as much attention to him.

 

All in all, it had been a fun two years, but eventually Corey had had to move on as he graduated from his high school. Melody had continued acting as a chaperone even after that point, of course, and it was still something she volunteered for now, but she would be a liar if she said she didn't miss his presence there. She had grown accustomed to carrying him home during away games, or at least sharing him with Claire, separate from his teammates who usually stayed with his mother.

 

They had usually discussed classes, as she enjoyed hearing about school life for Betas and he liked to hear about the Institute. This had lead to him offering to tutor her in math, something she had been terrible at, and she had eagerly accepted, still keeping her thoughts to herself. She knew she was just a family friend at that point, and that was fine. That age gap did exist, and she didn't expect him to think of her in the way she wanted him to at that point.

 

The tutoring had ultimately played the biggest role in developing her feelings, she realized that. Not simply because it was a nice thing for him to do for her, but because it gave them a chance to talk, and a frequent topic of discussion had been what they wanted to do with their lives. The answer, for both of them, was that they wanted to help people. Make their lives better.

 

That shared drive was what had transformed that little crush into what it was today. His excitement at starting at the new university, of being part of the first generation of Betas to actually have a university, one that would properly accredit them and everything...it had been something else. His sheer glee at taking his first steps toward becoming a doctor, to being able to provide a vital need for his fellow Betas in understaffed hospitals...that had sent Melody's heart aflutter.

 

That was the person she wanted to be with. Someone just like her, who just wanted to help others. Who could be perfectly happy in doing just that. So she let that fire inside burn, and enjoyed its warmth whenever she looked at him, or thought about him.

 

Something else joined the fire this time, though, as she studied his little form. A new fuel that increased its intensity even further.

 

Anger.

 

Melody was glad she had not seen Corey before her talk with Marion. She had already needed liquor to make it through that particular conversation, and going into it with the image of his arm and leg in her mind would have done no good. She doubted she would have been able to tighten that noose as effectively as she did. This was horrible, what those girls had done, and what made it worse was just how lucky Corey had been that it was "only" horrible. He could have been killed, and that thought made her sick to her stomach. Especially when her mind briefly wandered to the conversation she had had with Dr. Everett that morning.

 

Part of her wished she could do what Claire and Jenna did. Wished she could take Marion off of Claire's hands and pay her back for every single horrid thing she had ever done. Not just to the Betas, and boy was there a lot to go off of there, but to Alphas as well. Claire was absolutely correct: What she had done to that Stephanie girl was sick, and she was glad Claire had apparently figured out what had happened to the girl so quickly. Marion deserved everything she was going to get from her, and Melody briefly felt that she was failing her friend, and failing Corey, in her inability to contribute to that justice.

 

But what she had told Marion had been the truth: That just wasn't her. She didn't have that capability to hurt others. Whenever she thought about it, that day two years ago would inevitably come to mind. The day where she had had her little 16 year old sister squirming underneath her foot, bawling her eyes out and crying in desperate futility as her big sister truly brought her power to bear against her for the first time in her life. Because Melody, out of genuine concern for her sister's future should she be allowed to get away with stuffing a Beta in her shoe for a little "harmless fun", had felt she needed a small taste of the consequences she could face if she did it again. Because she didn't want her sister to get complacent and repeat her actions. She didn't want her to do something to a Beta she would truly regret. She didn't want her to end up in the hands of an Omega who wouldn't go easy on her in the slightest.

 

She doubted that image of her sister would ever truly leave her mind. No part of it ever really did. The sound of her begging Melody to just look at her, something she had been unable to do as she struggled through that ten minutes. The sight of Claire working her over in her palms.

 

The absolute terror Ashley had exhibited upon being given to Jenna to finish out the thirty minute session they had decided to split between them.

 

No, that role wasn't for her. She was exactly where she belonged: Working in her role as liaison to find out who needed help in her region, and doing whatever she could with the considerable resources at her disposal to provide what they needed. She had worked hard to get this position coming out of the Institute for a reason, after all

 

There was something else to this anger, though. She wasn't just angry with those girls, she was angry at herself for putting off what she was about to do for so long. It was something she should have done two years ago, but her own shyness had gotten in the way. If this incident had done one thing, it was drive in just how vulnerable Corey was compared to her. How comparatively close he sat to the precipice between life and death.

 

It had driven home the fact that, ultimately, he would die long before she did, whether it was by natural causes or not. And she wasn't going to waste another potential second of the relatively short amount of time they might have together by continuing to act like a shy little girl.

 

"Do I look that bad?"

 

"Eh?" Melody gracefully articulated, snapping out of her thoughts at the sudden question from her palm.

 

"Kinda been starin' at me for a bit," Corey's annoyed voice responded. "Kinda been doing it for a long bit."

 

Melody immediately felt her ears and cheeks go hot in embarrassment. This was off to a great start.

 

Refocusing her vision on his face, though, she was relieved to see a playful smirk that transformed into a chuckle at her expense

 

"I just...I had something on my mind, is all," she said softly, shifting her eyes away for a moment.

 

She needed to get it together; a little teasing couldn't deter her. She needed to get things back on track, get the conversation flowing in a favorable direction. She wanted this to be as natural as possible.

 

"Any estimate on your recovery time, by the way?" she asked, bringing her eyes back to him. There. That was something she was curious about anyway, so a great way to stabilize herself.

 

"Ah," he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, "probably somewhere between two and three months. So not bad considering they'll be as good as new, but...yeah. Probably three months, if I'm being realistic instead of optimistic."

 

He had looked away as he gave his second appraisal, his voice becoming despondent. A soft, sympathetic coo escaped Melody's lips. Maybe she shouldn't have asked about this, after all. The point of being here was to cheer him up, after all.

 

"But hey," he said, voice becoming a bit more positive as he turned to look up at Melody once again, "could be worse, right? Three months and everything is pretty much as good as new."

 

"And hey, Claire got this thing connected to Mom's PC this morning, and she's subbed to pretty much every streaming service under the sun. So at least I get to go through my TV backlog."

 

Melody smiled. It was sweet of him to say those things, but faces didn't lie. He may have been able to shift his voice back to a happier tone, but his face remained darkened as he spoke.

 

But he was doing it to try to make her feel a little better, and she would let him have that.

 

"So it's not all bad, at least," she said brightly. "I'm sure it'll fly by for you, and you'll be up again in no time."

 

"Yeah, I suppose, it's just..."

 

Corey trailed off there, and Melody noticed him scowl.

 

"Just what?"

 

"It's...don't worry about it. I'm just trying my best to be a downer," he replied with a heavy breath

 

"Hey, no, none of that," Melody cooed, give him the most comforting smile she was capable of. "You say whatever is on your mind, okay? This is a safe place for you, Corey. I...we are here to support you. You don't need to bottle anything up for our sakes."

 

Melody watched as Corey's head hung, watched his chest rise with another heavy breath. He was silent there, for a moment, apparently soaking up Melody's words. He was still taking deep breaths, and she couldn't help but notice that he was clenching the fist on his working arm

 

"It's just..." he suddenly said, voice low, before trailing off once again. He still wasn't looking at her, so Melody couldn't read his face. She was starting to get worried. Corey never fell over his words like that, and his breathing was still heavy.

 

Then she noticed something. Something that immediately washed the smile off her face.

 

He was trembling.

 

"It's just," he started once again, voice cracking, "that it really could have been worse, couldn't it?"

 

He looked up at her then, and Melody's heart sank as she took in his face. His mouth was hanging open as his heavy breathing continued, but ultimately, it was his eyes that caught her attention the most. Those hollow, teary eyes.

 

"I was almost killed, wasn't I?"

 

 All Melody could do was sit in silent tumult. For the moment, she couldn't think of anything else to do. Anything to say. What possible answer could she give to that question that wouldn't simply make things even worse than what she had already done?

 

Looking at his little face, a face that was contorted in awful visage of horrified realization, Melody felt awful. This was her fault, she had no doubts about that. It had been her choice to take the conversation in this direction, and she had done it for selfish reasons. Because she couldn't just ask her stupid question and be done with. Because she couldn't just be honest.

 

"I almost died," Corey rasped, likely to himself given his blank stare. Melody couldn't help but bite her bottom lip, her mind still racing to come up with some way to comfort him. Basic instinct was screaming at her, demanding that she curl her fingers inward to surround him in the warm, safe confines of her flesh. That wouldn't solve anything, though, as pleasant as she found the thought itself to be. Nothing was going to hurt him right now, and Melody doubted any Beta could be much safer than he currently was. The only danger to him right now came from within, and that was going to take a different approach to handle effectively.

 

"Why was I so stupid?," he asked with a sniff. "I shouldn't have been there to begin with."

 

Melody's stomach seized up at that, and her brow furrowed as she gritted her teeth. She may have let the conversation go into an unfortunate direction, but she wasn't going to let it go into this one.

 

"Corey, no," she stated seriously, her voice soft and reassuring, "this isn't-"

 

"Jenna told me, you know?" Corey interrupted, paying no attention to her words and looking down once more. "She told me years ago that I shouldn't go there. That it wasn't safe. That I'd get hurt. But I had to be stupid. I had to be stubborn, and then I paid for it."

 

"I practically asked for this," he stated with a choking laugh.

 

"No," Melody responded emphatically, the level of her voice rising just enough to command Corey's attention, to bring his eyes back into contact with her own. Her eyes picked up a small shiver from his diminutive body at the sudden elevation of her voice, and for just a moment she felt bad for that. Just for a moment, though.

 

This was not a path she was going to let his mind wander down. It was a path he had no business on, a path that would lead only to misery on his part. If it took being a bit more forward to make that clear to him, that he was not at fault for what happened, then so be it.

 

"How is that area classified, Corey?" she asked firmly, but gently. Her intent was not to chastise, after all. That approach would do him no good, either.

 

"...Mixed," he answered after a moment of silence, his voice low and still cracking.

 

"That's right," Melody replied, giving him a smile. "Anyone can be there. Betas, Alphas, Omegas, it doesn't matter. Every square inch of that area is designed so that you can walk through it safely, so that you can talk to anyone else who might be passing through, regardless of their size. So that you can patron the stores there, or even get something to eat with someone."

 

"But-" he started to cry out, but Melody was going to have none of that.

 

"You had every right to be there," she continued. "You had every right to run there, and every right to expect to be safe there, Corey. They are the ones at fault, not you. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You did nothing worth blaming yourself over."

 

"They are the ones who did something wrong, not you," she tenderly emphasized. "The law itself says that much, and that law is why those girls are in your sister's custody for the next year."

 

Things were silent between them for a moment, and it was with some relief that Melody noticed that that his breathing was starting to settle down. She had to suppress an affectionate bleat as she watched him raise his free arm to wipe at his eyes. The arm returned to his side, his somewhat despondent gaze met Melody's eyes once again.

 

"So what did the law do for me when I was being treated like a toy?" he suddenly asked, his voice welling with bitterness. "Like something to be used and then thrown away?"

 

Melody could only purse her lips in response. As sad as it was, he ultimately had a point. A law could provide incentive to behave, and avenues for justice if broken, but there was nothing for the in-between.

 

"Melody, I've never felt so helpless in my life," he spat with an enraged snarl and wide eyes, and the weight of that statement wasn't lost on her. He had grown up with an Omega for a mother, and had let three little Omega girls handle him with absolute confidence in his safety. That this incident had left him with this feeling...it made Melody want to shudder.

 

"I couldn't do anything," he cried, his eyes glistening once again. " They just...they just did whatever they wanted to me! No matter how much I begged or screamed, they didn't care! One girl apparently does now, but that doesn't suddenly mean she didn't crush my arm between her fingers. It doesn't suddenly stop one of them from dangling me in the air by my other arm...from pounding my fucking ribs in just because she didn't like me talking!"

 

His breathing had become labored now, and his trembling had returned. His wide, panicked eyes continue to meet Melody's sympathetic gaze. She wanted to cry, but...for the moment, she felt she had to hold her composure, for Corey's sake, no matter how difficult it was. She had known of his injuries, obviously, but hearing him actually talk about them...that was completely different.

 

"Didn't fucking stop the last from snapping my leg like a toothpick, either," he quavered.

 

"Melody, I shouldn't even by alive," Corey whimpered, and Melody's instincts went into overdrive. Forget just enclosing him in her hand, now she wanted nothing more than to pry him from that little metal pill. To press his tiny, fragile body to her chest, sandwiching him between the fleshy, cushioned plane of her overwhelming palm and the ocean of soft white fabric that was pulled taut against her breast. To simply hold him there in a comforting brace.

 

"I don't even know how I'm still alive," he choked out, "the only thing that even begins to make sense is that I just got lucky. I'm alive because of a single stroke of luck, and nothing else."

 

Melody couldn't help but narrow her eyes at that.

 

"I don't think luck had much of anything to do with it," she stated softly. His mouth started to move in response, but he couldn't even get a word out and instead opted for a confused tilt of his head.

 

"Who was it that found you, Corey?" Melody asked simply, and a moment of confused silence passed.

 

"...Claire?" he finally responded, his raspy voice tinged with uncertainty over the point of the question.

 

"That's right," she responded, allowing herself to give him another smile. "And why was she there?"

 

Silence once again. Melody was prepared to answer once more, of course, though she hoped Corey would realize her intent for himself.

 

"I...I don't know," he finally sputtered out, yet Melody maintained her smile. She had hoped he would have an answer, but she wouldn't hold that lack of one against him given his current state.

 

"She was there," Melody started, her voice soft and soothing, "because of you. Because of the relationship you built with her by being there to support her, to talk to her, to help her when she needed it. Because you were there for her soccer games. Because you would stay up with her when she had a bad dream and Mrs. Abby was away. Because for 15 years, you've been a wonderful big brother to her, and she couldn't wait to see you again while you were here on break."

 

"That's not luck to me, Corey," she continued, and it was with renewed relief that she noticed his breathing once more starting to stabilize, "to me, that's causality at work. That's your actions paying off. When it comes down to it, you're alive because of the person that you are."

 

Melody had to take a breath after that as her eyes continued to study his face. She hoped he would take that to heart, that it would help him in his recovery. He needed that sense of empowerment, she knew that much. That sense that he had some control over his life. So many Betas, after being being victimized like this, they struggled with a sense of utter powerlessness. She had seen first hand, how it could eat away at them over the years, how it could feed an overwhelming sense of despair within them.

 

She had lost one dear little friend to it just a month ago, and she wasn't going to lose another. Not if she could help it.

 

"Thanks, Melody," a quiet voice proclaimed from her palm, and Melody's sense of relief escalated at how...calm that voice was now. Corey's features in general had calmed down dramatically now, becoming much more tranquil. "I...I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if I got a bit..."

 

Melody gently shushed him, cutting him off.

 

"There's nothing to apologize for," she soothed, "I'm just glad you're feeling a little better now."

 

Melody bit her bottom lip for a moment, considering her next words carefully.

 

"Corey," she started, and she felt her cheeks start to warm a bit, "I want you to know that whenever you feel like that...or even if you just want someone to talk to, you shouldn't hesitate to get in touch with me. Or, uh, not just me...Jenna, too, and obviously Claire. Kyle, too, or Alexis...there's a lot of us that care about you, Corey, and all of us would be happy to listen."

 

She was happy to see a smile appear on his face at that, though his response was unexpected.

 

"Thanks for telling me that, Melody, but I can't talk to anyone else about this. And I don't want you to tell anyone about this talk."

 

"What?" Melody questioned, utterly confused. "Why?"

 

"Because I want those girls to have a fair chance at rehabilitation."

 

"How does that...what does that have to with just talking to people?" Melody asked, still confused.

 

"It's because I know Claire," he stated, "and so do you. The last time I talked to her, she seemed willing to give them that chance. If she ever hears about this talk, about what I said...do you really think that will still be the case? That she'll be fair to them?"

 

Melody didn't even need time to think.

 

"No," she responded with some resignation. It was true, and as much as she knew Marion didn't deserve that chance...well, the other two did. It was why Dr. Everett had transferred them out of Jenna's custody, and after their talk this morning about the three, it was a call she agreed with.

 

"Honestly, I'm actually ashamed of myself," Corey said with a sad laugh.

 

"What in the world do you have to be ashamed of?" Melody asked, her tone incredulous.

 

"The fact that a part of me honestly wants to let Claire know," he responded. "The fact that that same part enjoys having that kind of power over how they're treated. It's just..."

 

"That's not who you are," Melody found herself whispering, and a soft chuckle followed from Corey a moment later.

 

"Right," he said, "I want people to have the chance to be better. To get help if they need it. I mean, I want to be a fucking doctor, and I'm seriously sitting here and thinking about making things worse for three people out of spite?

 

"And I think that's natural, given what happened," Melody responded simply. "You're only human, Corey, and no one is perfect all the time."

 

"The important thing," she continued, and she could feel her light blushing begin to escalate as she did so, "is that you know that isn't the person you are. It's not the person you want to be. The fact that you can acknowledge that part of you and then reject it...that just speaks to your character."

 

Melody found herself gulping, then, as she realized that there was no better time than this, and a light shiver coursed through her body. Neither the gulp nor the trembling of the tanned field on which his bed sat went unnoticed by Corey, who shot Melody a concerned stare.

 

"I-I-It's why..." Melody stuttered out, her futile attempts to catch the words she wished to say as they disappeared on the tip of her tongue causing her no small amount of frustration.

 

"It's w-w-why I want..." she choked out, her frustration mounting as she gritted her teeth and her cheeks continued to burn hotter. Why couldn't she just do this?! She'd had no trouble speaking her mind for the past several minutes, why now?

 

"Are you okay?" Corey asked from her palm, the concern on his eyes spilling over into his voice.

 

"I-I'm fine," she replied, exasperated.

 

This wasn't going to work, she realized. They would be here all day if she kept trying this, and they didn't have that. Corey wanted to watch a movie, and then it would likely be time for another bath, and that would just lead to more napping.

 

Staring at the little object of her affections, though, she realized something else: That there were other ways to communicate what she wanted to. Ways that required far fewer words, ways that were far more...clear.

 

Melody's features softened, then, even as she began to steel herself. Her sharp eyes took in one more scan of Corey's body, confirming that he was properly strapped him to the chamber. Taking one last little look at his concerned, handsome face, Melody fully committed to what she was about to do. Something she had wanted to do for years.

 

Slowly, the hand that held her little crush began to rise, even as Melody's head began to lower at an equal pace. Her eyes continued to focus on him, and as that distance narrowed, his eyes shifted from a gaze of concern to one of utter transfixion.

 

"Melody...?" his quiet voice asked, halfheartedly probing for her intentions. Melody only offered him a light shush in response, letting her warm breath wash over him in a gentle, controlled breeze. As he was drawn ever closer, he eventually passed from Melody's immediate vision, but he offered nothing else. No questions, no protests, not even the slightest hint of a fearful whimper.

 

Melody knew that his destination would be apparent to him now, as she puckered her full, unpainted lips in anticipation.

 

She felt it, easily, when her lips came into soft contact with that tiny, metal pill. Felt it when the soft, bulbous flesh flooded into the cavity that held the target of her demonstration. When it tenderly pressed down onto Corey's damaged form with a carefulness that seemed to defy the universe itself. She felt it, too, when an infinitesimal press against her lips originated from the spot where she knew his own lips currently resided. She held it, for just a moment, allowing him to simply be swallowed up in the pink masses of her lips, before softly separating in a quiet pop. There was so much more she wanted to do, so much more she knew she could do, but in his current state this was as much as she dared.

 

Returning her hand to its former position, her eyes couldn't find Corey fast enough. She failed to suppress a giggle as his face came into focus; a look of utter contentment was upon his face, along with a bit of saliva that trailed down his body.

 

"Wow," he uttered, a smile on his lips, "How long were you wanting to do that?"

 

"Too long for my tastes," she answered with a gentle chuckle. She noticed that her words seemed to be flowing easier now, as if a dam had suddenly been removed from between her mind and her lips.

 

"Would I be wrong to assume you reciprocate, going by that little smile?" she asked, allowing an edge of playfulness into her voice.

 

"Not at all," he responded with his own chuckle. "Between this and our talk...you've really become an amazing woman, Melody."

 

"But you know this kind of...relationship isn't without challenges," he stated, his tone becoming a bit more serious.

 

"I know," she gently responded, "and I'm fine with them. I know what I'm signing up for, and as much as some things might hurt...I'd rather take the chance. I want to see if I can be with you, and if I can have you with me, for as long as I'm able."

 

Another chuckle reached her ears.

 

"I think Mom said the same thing to Dad when they got together," he remarked, smiling again.

 

There was silence between them for that moment, and Melody took the opportunity to bask. It was a wonderful feeling, to be free of that weight. To be acknowledged as the woman she had become, and to be called an amazing one at that.

 

To look into those tiny little eyes and see the new found adoration within them, to be warmed by the idea that their eyes were now locked in mutual affection. That, too, was wonderful.

 

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" she asked, still amused at how easily these words were coming now. This had been the first thing she had meant to ask, as a lead-up.

 

"I don't think I'd be very good company," he replied jokingly, "unless you're willing to count snores as conversation."

 

"I'm fine with that," she responded, "I just know that Claire has office duty tomorrow, while I've got an off day. I don't like the thought of you being by yourself here, even if someone can get here quickly if needed."

 

"Did Claire okay this? I'm technically in her custody while I'm in this metal bastard."

 

"She said she was fine with it if you were," Melody beamed. She had her bases covered

 

"Then sure, why not," he conceded, "At the very least it'll be a change of scenery."

 

And maybe I can find a...funner place for you to rest, Melody thought with a sultry smirk, her multitude of successes on the day emboldening her. Her little smirk caught the attention of her new partner, earning an eyebrow raised in concern. She only smiled wider.

 

A light knock on the study's door broke up their little conversation, with Claire's somewhat muffled voice declaring it to be Movie Time. Giving Corey one last little smile, Melody rose to her feet and exited to the living room.

 

Jenna had apparently picked the movie on her own, since Corey and Melody had sequestered themselves while Claire had showered. No one was shocked that it was a western, as Jenna loved the things, and her selection this time was something from early in the century.

 

Corey had changed hands as Melody took a seat on the far end of of the couch, with Claire taking up the rest as her feet rested in Melody's lap. Corey, unsurprisingly, was exactly where Claire had told Marion he would be: resting on the fabric of her t-shirt that covered her stomach. It was the usual spot he occupied whenever he had joined the three for a movie, a nice bit of normalcy for him

 

As the movie began with a piano tune matched to a woman's narration on the account of her father's murder, Melody couldn't help but shift her attention to Corey, already firmly enamored with the film. She smiled at that, but then shifted her gaze to the ground on which his Chamber rested. She could only imagine Marion fuming within the stomach of her best friend, helpless and at her ultimate mercy so as to not be digested without a care.

 

Melody genuinely hoped that girl would work her way up in Claire's new system, she really did. She wanted the little monster to build that hope for herself up, to get within arm's reach of getting out of this place alive.

 

She wanted to once again send everything crashing down around her with the information she had been given.

 

The narration suddenly caught her attention, and Melody once again had to smile.

 

"You must pay for everything in this world," the narrator had stated with conviction, "one way and another. There is nothing free except the grace of God."

 

Marion was going to pay. For everything that she had done. Attacking Corey was going to prove to be the worst mistake of that girl's life, second only to the fact that in doing so, she gained the attentions of Kayla Everett and everything that entailed. She had essentially invited a walking goddess into her head, a goddess that could pore through every dark memory in her little mind.

 

Melody had to fight back a snarl as she thought back to the results of that. While she had told Corey differently, and been genuine in her citation of causality in her bid to empower him, he ultimately had been extraordinarily lucky to survive contact with that girl.

 

The twelve before him hadn't been so lucky.

 

 

  Slamming her thumb down onto the red prompt, Claire wanted to throw her phone into low orbit. God, that man had been fucking infuriating. And disgusting. And infuriating. Mostly infuriating.

 

Hearing Richard Sung practically disown his incarcerated daughter over the phone had not been how she wanted to start this morning. He had been a rude, curt little thing, acting as if simply having to acknowledge Naomi was going to be the low point of his week. His utter contempt toward the idea of his daughter being a criminal - not even contempt for what she had done, he had made sure to specify that - had been palpable. He clearly viewed his daughter's actions as a black mark against his name, and had made it clear that he, nor his wife or Naomi's older sister would be exercising any potential chances at visitation or contact. He had also made it clear that she would not be welcomed back within the family once her time had been served.

 

"What a shitty excuse for a dad," she muttered to herself as she reached the entrance to the local Facility, a four story black cube that sat in the middle of the Omega Zone, itself a circular suburb of gigantic homes in the heart of the city. It was no wonder Naomi had such low self-esteem, the girl seemed to be surrounded by people who did nothing but drive a sense of inferiority into her.

 

At least Stephanie's mother had been much more pleasant to talk to, and Claire was going to meet the woman for a talk during her break today.

 

Passing through the sliding door and into the immaculate white interior of the Facility, she was greeted by the steadily more familiar sight of an open, somewhat barren office. Plenty of desks without occupants, but that was normal. Only a few Omegas were ever in the office at a time, after all.

 

Speaking of which, Claire's eyes quickly scanned over the desks to find out who her office mates were for the day.

 

The first she spotted was Kyle, a slim Omega two years her senior. The blonde man gave her a lazy wave upon noticing her, his face focused on his monitor. The man had given the impression of constant lethargy for as long as Claire had known him, an impression that sat in stark contrast to his work ethic. Kyle was consistently absorbed by his work, to the point that he had never really been all that sociable with his peers.

 

The other was Alexis, a pretty, prissy thing whom Claire didn't particularly care for. Her parents had apparently already been extraordinarily affluent when the Fire found them and initiated their ascension into Omegas, and while the family was extraordinarily sweet and compassionate, Claire could never really get over the rather entitled attitudes she felt they exuded.

 

Especially when she remembered her mother's stories.

 

Still, Alexis was nice enough, and Claire gave the girl a smile in response to an excited wave. Ultimately, it was a decent enough pair to be matched up with for the day, and her little assistant would be in after lunch.

 

"Anything going on?" Claire asked as she took a seat at her desk. Her meticulously organized, squeaky-clean desk. She wanted to shudder whenever she looked at the clutter that was always the hallmark of her two companions.

 

"Slow morning, so a good morning" Kyle responded with a level of boredom, his eyes remaining glued to his monitor.

 

"There's an expecting couple coming in to see you in an hour!" Alexis informed her, voice full of pep. Claire pursed her lips, those meetings could vary wildly in their pleasantness.

 

Of course, there was something far happier to think about.

 

"Oh, guess who finally made a move?" she asked with a smile.

 

"Melody," the other two answered simultaneously, not a second spared to think about it.

 

"Well, that was quick" Claire remarked with a pout. That had sucked up the fun of sharing the news.

 

"Well we don't exactly have a large circle of friends," Kyle deadpanned.

 

"And you wouldn't be that happy about anyone else," Alexis added.

 

Claire's immediate response was to stick out her tongue as she began glancing through her email. Fuck them, she had wanted to have fun with this outcome. After her little realization seven years back, she was elated at this development. She had always hoped her brother would partner with an Omega out of a sense of protectiveness toward him, and Melody was the best of the best on that front. She would be there for him through anything, and most importantly, she would respect Corey's decisions. Sure, it meant no super-adorable nieces or nephews, but just adorable would be fine. Not only that...

 

"Oh, this means I'll be getting a little sister soon, too!" she remarked happily.

 

"Are you even older than Melody?" Alexis asked amidst an eruption of giggles.

 

"By three months!" Claire exclaimed smugly.

 

"And she's like a head taller than you, can you even call her little?"

 

"Oh no," Claire snapped in annoyance, "I guess I should stop saying Corey's my big brother if we're being pedantic about things." Mentally, she began to push Alexis down a few spots in her own personal standings. As if sensing this drop in favor, the auburn-haired girl's hands immediately rose into the air as if she were being held up.

 

"No, no, not at all," she frantically stated, and Claire couldn't hold back a smirk.

 

"You...do realize they have to actually get married, right?" Kyle questioned, finally tearing his eyes away from his work to shoot Claire a questioning glance. "Kinda think there's a ways to go before thinking about this stuff."

 

"Please," Claire stated with a huff, "there's not way they aren't getting married. I bet they've tied the knot by the time Corey is able to go back to school, even."

 

"I think you might be overestimating how quickly Melody can move things along," he responded.

 

"And I think you're underestimating what a full year of Melody's doting can do to a man."

 

Kyle looked at her for a moment, seemingly thinking that over. Finally, he nodded a concession before turning back to his work..

 

"So do you think she'll pick you or Ashley as her maid of honor?" Alexis inquired, the perkiness back in her voice.

 

Claire immediately scoffed.

 

"Please, I'm going to be Best Woman."

 

****

 

Claire had a good feeling about this couple the moment she approached the platform outside the visitor's elevator to retrieve them. Connected to an independent subway system built and operated without cost by Aegis, it served as the principal means for people in the city to reach the Facility.

 

Allowing the two Alphas to step onto her hand before caging her fingers around them protectively and heading back to her desk, she was thankful for that feeling. When an expecting couple showed up and the father and mother were both Alphas, it meant that the child was going to be a Beta. Reactions to this were variable between couples, and Claire had seen and heard of some extremely awful ones from parents who were less than pleased by the news.

 

Taking her seat again and allowing her guests to disembark onto her desk, though, this couple seemed to be all smiles about being there and that usually meant they were fine with the prospect of their child being a bit on the smaller side.

 

"So, Mr. and and Mrs. Daniels," she started - they had shared introductions upon meeting outside the elevator - ,"I hope I'm not being presumptuous in congratulating the two of you?"

 

It was to her relief that the couple had a small laugh over that.

 

"No," Jason Daniels replied with a shake of his head, "not in the least. Thank you, ma'am."

 

"So what are we expecting?" Claire asked, a wide smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

 

"A little girl," Erica Daniels replied affectionately. A smile to match Claire's own was plastered across her face, and the young woman brought a hand to rest on her stomach, gently caressing it through the fabric of her red dress.

 

"Well, my thoughts are certainly with you going forward. So what can I help you two with today?"

 

"We sort of have a few things, "Jason replied sheepishly.

 

"That's fine," Claire responded with a soft chuckle as she reached across her desk to wrap her fingers around a padded bench she kept. Placing it gently behind the couple with some amusement as their eyes intently followed her hand during the retrieval, she welcomed them to take a seat and they happily obliged. "So what's first on the agenda?"

 

"First," Jason began," was uh...we wanted to go ahead and submit the floor plan for our house. We want to get it fitted for Beta traversal sooner rather than later."

 

"Very well," Claire said with a nod, "you can just place it on my assistant's desk after we're done with everything else. He'll take care of getting it processed when he comes in later today. Next?"

 

"He needs handling lessons," Erica replied flatly, "as remedial as you can get. I just need the more advanced classes, for the more involved handling."

 

"And the discrepancy between what you two need is because...?" Claire asked, though she already had an idea. A Beta child between two Alphas meant either unfaithfulness or...

 

"My Daddy is a Beta," Erica informed with pride in her voice. "I've been handling him since I was a little girl, so it's generally not an issue. An infant is just going to require a bit more."

 

"Understandable," Claire said as she began to set things up, spending the next several minutes collecting information from the two and clacking away at her keyboard.

 

"Alright, what's next?" she inquired with one last press.

 

They were not immediately forthcoming, and she noted that both of them had immediately sighed, breaking eye contact with her. She had an idea about this, too.

 

"Insurance?" she asked, her tone sympathetic. Both of them nodded.

 

"Our insurance doesn't...it doesn't cover Beta pregnancy," Jason answered dejectedly. Claire's face soured in response, though she softened once more as they faced her again. She didn't want them to think she was disgusted with them, as she wasn't. Not in the least. This was a disgustingly common occurrence with these pregnancies. It was yet another problem they had to fix.

 

"We'll help you out however we can," Claire soothed, giving them a reassuring smile. "I'll see what doctors we have volunteering for us in the area, and I'll forward the list to the email addresses you provided. Pick one you like, and we'll take care of everything."

 

"And when the time comes," she continued, "just send us the hospital bill, and we'll take care of that, too. You'll get everything you need, I promise."

 

It warmed her heart to see the relief washing over their faces at that, and she almost cooed at watching their little hands intertwine.

 

"Thank you, Ms. Lindon," Erica said. "I can't tell you how much we appreciate all of this. I just hope we aren't being a drain..."

 

"Not in the least," Claire assured. "Do you see that woman over there?" she asked, pointing toward Alexis. Her guests followed the direction of her finger, and as typical of Alexis she caught on and gave them a happy wave.

 

"That's Alexis Banner. Her father is Simon Banner, and her mother is Carrie Banner," she informed.

 

"The shipping and banking magnates?" Jason questioned after a moment.

 

"Right. Both of which provide an extraordinary amount of funding to us, to handle matters exactly like yours. And they aren't alone; we receive contributions from many others, both large and small donors, from all over the world. We even have our own sources of profit. So believe me, your costs aren't an issue."

 

"Thank you," Erica said again, giving Claire a grateful smile.

 

"Now, was there anything else?" Claire asked.

 

"I believe that was all today," Jason answered, and Erica confirmed.

 

"Alright, then. We'll get to work on all of this, so watch your email over the next few days. We'll likely give your a phone call, as well."

 

"There is one more matter, though," Claire stated with an element of resignation. They really seemed like a nice couple, but...she had to be sure of both of them.

 

"Jason," she said, focusing her gaze on him. This act didn't go unnoticed, and he recoiled slightly. "What are Betas to you?"

 

He stared at her for a moment, processing that question. Claire saw the worry on his face, a feeling that he was being trapped.

 

"I've never really had much to do with them," he admitted with a sigh, "but the ones I've met...I think they're just people who want to lead the best life they can. And I want to do everything I can so that my daughter can do the same."

 

Claire smiled. It was a simple statement, but a genuine one. It had been all over his face.

 

"I think your daughter is is going to be a very luck girl."

 

****

 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Mrs. Bowman," Claire assured, bringing a finger to bear and gently rubbing the nervous woman's back in an attempt to alleviate her nervousness. Maybe telling her that the victim of her daughter's assault had been her brother had been a mistake. It had honestly slipped out, as the condition of the victim was the first thing the little woman had asked about upon taking her seat at the Alpha-sized table that sat in front of Claire at the bar of this mixed coffee shop. She truly hadn't meant to intimidate the woman.

 

Slowly, though, she began to settle down as she sipped at her drink, further aided by Claire's gentle rubbing. Finally she met Claire's gaze once again, and Claire gave her a soft smile. This woman really was the spitting image of her daughter.

 

"Janet, please," she stated, and Claire nodded. "I really...I really am sorry for what my daughter did, Ms. Lindon."

 

"Claire," the Omega corrected, "and thank you, Janet. But we have other things to discuss."

 

"Right," Janet replied with a sad nod. "Where should we uh...where should we start?"

 

Claire sighed, mulling that over for a moment.

 

"You're aware of how your daughter views Betas, yes?" she asked, and Janet nodded slightly. "I was told that this wasn't the case until some time after the...accident. That she was very damaged by it. Does that sound correct?"

 

"Yes," Janet replied with another nod. "It was like someone just...flipped a switch in her. She went from devastated to just...uncaring, and it felt like it was overnight. She stopped...she stopped calling William her brother. Started to act like nothing had even happened..."

 

Claire could make out the tears starting to form in the little woman's eyes, and her heart truly ached for her.

 

"...stopped listening to her father," Janet finished. "We tried counseling for her but...it just didn't work. It was like something was right there with her, fighting against it all the time."

 

Claire wanted to slam her fist onto the table at that. She had a feeling what that "something" was. The bit about her father was something new, though.

 

"How did she get along with her father before all this?" she asked.

 

"Oh, Stephanie was a complete daddy's girl," Janet replied with a nostalgic smile. "Every time she did something, made a good grade, made a drawing, anything, he was always the first person she went to. And when he scolded her for something, it stuck. It was a far cry from...from how things ended up, after William's..."

 

Janet trailed off there, and Claire once again gave the woman a sympathetic rub with her finger.

 

"And how were things with...with William?"

 

"She...well, she loved her little brother the moment she first saw him," Janet said, and the tears were becoming a bit a more noticeable. "I can't begin to tell you how much she doted on him, how protective she was. Another child teased her about him once, and Stephanie just socked him right in the face. Knocked him right out."

 

Claire couldn't help but smile at that. It sounded very familiar.

 

"And then when the accident happened, she was so torn up about it. She couldn't believe what she had done, that she had..."

 

Janet choked up there, and Claire felt compelled to shush her. She hated asking the woman about this, but she needed a clearer picture of what Stephanie had been like, and how she had changed.

 

"Let's leave that for today," Claire stated. "You mentioned that things changed with her father. Could you elaborate?"

 

Janet took a moment to collect herself again, wiping at her eyes before continuing.

 

"She stopped listening to him. Stopped caring about what he thought, what he had to say. It was slow, but it got worse and worse over six years. She started pushing him out of the way, trapping him under cups or somewhere he couldn't get out of when he would try to scold her."

 

"It reached a head when she was 16," Janet continued with a shudder. "She had just gotten home from soccer practice, and Peter tried to scold her for staying out past curfew the night before. He...he didn't want to be marginalized out of her life. Didn't want to lose another child. It was why he kept trying to be involved with her."

 

"She took her shoes off, along with her socks, and she...she dropped him into one of the things, and closed it off while she went to shower. Then when she came back, she just took him out like she had done nothing, and she told...told him that if he ever tried to scold her again, he'd go back in there. And that maybe she'd be absent-minded and forget...that maybe he'd go to practice with her."

 

Claire's eyes narrowed at that. That was something that should have been reported.

 

"I know, it should have been reported," Janet said with a sob, "but...Peter just couldn't do that. He couldn't give her up like that. So we separated. We still see each other as much as we can, of course, and we're still married, but...it just wasn't safe for him at home anymore. And Stephanie didn't bat an eyelash when he left."

 

Claire sighed. As much as she wanted to be annoyed at the inaction...it had been the decision of a victim who just loved his daughter too much to throw her to the wolves. She didn't agree with the decision, but she could understand how it happened.

 

"Thank you, Janet," she said, giving the woman's back another rub. "This was very helpful, and I'm going to promise you right now: If I can do anything to help your daughter, I will. It might not be pretty in motion, but...if she can admit to what she did, if she can come to terms with that, I think she can go back to being that same girl again."

 

Claire noticed that Janet was leaning into her little caress now.

 

"Thank you," Janet cried softly, plunging her face into the skin of Claire's finger.

 

 Her eyes focused solely on the cold steel floor as it moved beneath her, the light padding of two bare feet against it being the only sound emanating from the facility now. Almost everyone was gone, Alpha and Beta alike. The Alphas were either dead, or were approaching that...thing that rested below. The Betas...

 

Out of the thousands that had been there, only two remained. She was certain of that. Maybe some had managed to escape the ignoble end brought upon them, but she doubted it. No, she was certain of it: She was one of only two still alive, now. And, clutching her arms tightly around her carrier's collarbone, she was certain of one more thing: That two was about to become one.

 

Her brother was dying.

 

She could feel it with every heavy step he took now, as he carried her injured body for what she knew would be the last time. He had given her far too many piggyback rides over the course of her childhood for her not to notice his condition, and she found herself burying her eyes into her arm to wipe away the tears as they began to well. His steps were heavy and plodding. His breathing was labored, desperate. He was barely speaking, and when he did...

 

"It's okay, Abby," he gasped out, as if on cue. "Everything's going to be okay..." His voice was quiet, wheezy; lacking in strength. Nothing like it usually was. "I'm going to get you to Kayla...I'm going to get you out of here."

 

Abigail choked down a whimper. She couldn't let him know how horrified she was, how little she believed those words, no matter how badly she wanted it to happen. She did want to be back with Kayla, to be cradled once more in her strong, protective hands. The hands she may as well have grown up in. She wanted to be back, safe and sound in Kayla's breast pocket, the best home she had known over the years.

 

She wanted to be back with one of the two Alphas that had ever treated her as a person, who placed any value whatsoever on her life, on her happiness. Back with Kayla, and out of this awful place. Just her, Graham, and Kayla, back together again.

 

But that wasn't going to happen. Lifting her eyes off the floor and looking beyond her brother's head, the oppressive metal corridor that greeted her seemed to go on forever. Graham didn't have forever. She would be surprised if he had more than a couple of hours. He may have killed Katherine Schwarz's pet monster, but he hadn't come out of that confrontation unscathed. That creature would ultimately achieve its goal, and Graham would collapse underneath her eventually as his life came to an end. She would be left here alone, unable to move on her own due to her injured legs. Alone and helpless, likely to die at the hands of the first person that found her. Likely to die of starvation or dehydration if left alone.

 

Graham came to a stop suddenly, seemingly frozen in place, his head still facing forward. Abigail gulped, a feeling of overwhelming dread coalescing in the pit of her stomach. This was it, she thought, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. He wasn't even going to make it another hour.

 

"Graham?" she asked with a sniffle, her voice searching for a response. To her increasing dread, silence was her only answer as he continued to stare forward. He was still breathing, she could feel it, but...

 

"Graham?" she asked again to no response. "Big brother?" she pleaded through grit teeth, receiving not even the barest hint of recognition. Abigail had started trembling now. This was it. Any moment now, he was going to fall, and then he would be gone.

 

"I will," he stated suddenly, and Abigail was shocked by the sudden strength behind that voice. How healthy it had become in just a few moments as it spoke, seemingly to nothing.

 

"Graham? What are you-?" she began to ask before her voice went inaudible. Before the world around her started to blur.

 

Before everything was consumed in a deafening roar. She had watched plenty of nature documentaries with Kayla, and this unearthly sound put any lion or tiger to shame. It was constant, unrelenting. It seemed to be shaking the world itself.

 

And then the world shattered, as if her surrounding had been made of nothing but glass. A million pieces, all reflecting a piece of the world as it had been falling around Abigail and her brother. A sense of wonder overcame her in that moment, as her eyes followed the falling shards. It was beautiful, in a way. Alien and horrifying, as that roar continued to echo around her, but beautiful.

 

Then it all stopped, seemingly frozen in place, and all was quiet. Abigail continued to look around at the pieces of shattered scenery that hung around her, transfixed in her amazement. It was then that she noticed that the scenery each shard depicted was...changing. The gray metal of the corridor was becoming different, alien. Gray was becoming cyan, the material...a sort of finely smoothed stone.

 

Suddenly, the pieces began to move back into place, as if solving a puzzle. A new environment began to take form, and to Abigail's continued amazement, they seemed to have been transported to a large cave composed of nothing but that smooth stone. Stalagmites and stalactites littered the area, while horizontal, spiky protrusions as long as any Alpha jutted out from the walls at random intervals. White, plant-like glowing bulbs were attached intermittently along the ceiling and stalactites, giving light to the area. As the pieces settled in and the cracks began to vanish she could make out what appeared to be an entryway to their far left.

 

Then her gaze wandered to the room's center, and her heart sunk. Standing there, a vicious smile splayed across his wicked face as his gray eyes locked onto the two newcomers was the only thing here that scared Abigail more than that monster had.

 

Conrad Steiner stood there, towering as every Alpha did, his heart clearly aflutter at this new prey. The man was a terror even to his own, though, and Abigail had watched the man carry out Dr. Schwarz's will with ruthless efficiency. He delighted in violence, in cruelty, and he made no effort to hide that fact. He didn't need to. The only person he answered to in that facility had been Katherine Schwarz, and she had been consistently permissive of his desires. Desires that he had frequently taken out on the caged Betas, with no one besides Kayla and Marcus even attempting to put a stop to it.

 

Abigail felt herself lowering suddenly, and she noticed that Graham was gingerly kneeling down. She found herself being gently placed on the warm stone floor as her brother carefully released her legs from his hands and onto the floor as well. Abigail wanted to ask what he was doing, why he wasn't trying to run away, but her mouth seemed sealed shut. He turned around then, still allowing Abigail's arms to wrap around his neck, and her eyes widened as she took in his face.

 

There was no sign of fear there. No sign of pain, of despair. His blue eyes were focused, determined. Her brother, who had seemed to be on the verge of death just moments before, now radiated with the same strength he always had. Without even noticing it, Abigail found herself wrapped in a comforting embrace as Graham's strong arms encircled her for the last time.

 

"I'm getting you out of here, Abby," he repeated from earlier, but this time with strength behind it. No doubt from Abigail, either. "I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you. I'm going to take care of this, and Kayla will handle the rest. I promise."

 

"I love you, Abby," Graham continued, not allowing her to speak, to ask what he was going to do, to try to talk him down, "and I want you to always remember that."

 

And then he stood, breaking away from her arms and turning to face the sadistic Alpha who continued to study them with amusement. As her brother began to walk away from her and toward death itself, she finally found her voice.

 

"You can't!" she choked out, her body trembling. She wanted to throw up. "I don't know...what you t-t-think you can do but...he...h-h-h-he's..."

 

"He's nothing," her brother replied solemnly as he continued to walk away from her. "In this place, Abby, he's nothing. I can see it."

 

And things seemed to flash forward then, as they often did when Abigail realized what was going on. When she was waking up. Her mind would never let her miss what was coming. It would never allow her to awake before witnessing Conrad Steiner's body impaled upon one of the many protrusions along the cave wall, blood seeping from his torso, through his mouth. His face contorted into one of terror and rage, of horrid realization at what had just happened as her brother turned to face her.

 

It would not allow her to awake before that dying Alpha reached one arm out in one last act of spiteful violence, before he began to squeeze.

 

Before she watched her brother have the life crushed out of him, the widest of smiles on his face before his killer went limp and allowed his corpse to fall to the stone floor.

 

*****

 

Abigail Everett-Lindon awoke then, her eyes blurry and wet as she regained her bearings. That dream never got any easier, even under better circumstances. Not after decades of having it, of repeating that hated moment in her life over and over again. She doubted it ever would, no matter how many decades continued to pass her by as she remained stagnant and unchanging as the world developed around her.

 

Her brother would still be dead, her husband would eventually pass away, and her son would inevitably follow. Yet she would remain, looking no older than the day she had turned 20, just her and her daughter left, along with whatever memories they had made together.

 

The side of Abigail's face was firmly planted into the surface of her desk, giving her a wonderful view of the empty liquor bottles that sat near the edge. Nonplussed by the sight, her gaze began to shift until it rested upon the most cherished possession she kept here with her: her digital picture frame, currently displaying a picture of her precious son taken on the day he moved to the college dorms. Of course, zooming the photo out would reveal that he was not alone: He had been sitting on the the tip of Claire's nose for that one, a goofy grin on her face as her eyes crossed to keep an eye on her big brother.

 

Normally, that picture brought nothing but warm thoughts to Abigail's mind. She was truly happy with how her two children had bonded over the years. Corey had been everything she could have wanted him to be as an older brother to Claire, without her having to say a word. Claire had been briefly worrying at 13, but her decision to support her vulnerable sibling instead of following her baser desires had been the correct one, and the first real test of her character. Abigail was proud of the choice she had made, that she had put her brother before herself. Even if, she would usually recall with a grin, it had lead to a little fight between the two siblings. One that Abigail herself had technically caused, sure, but she had felt the need to give her daughter a little follow-up test...and her son certainly couldn't have been allowed to get away with drinking while underage.

 

There was no warmth this time, though, as Abigail simply glared at the photo. It had almost happened again. She had almost lost another loved one to the base cruelty of the Alphas. Her daughter had almost had to go through the same heartache of losing her older brother to that cruelty, and even then she had not been totally spared. Claire had been bawling when she had called to let her know what had happened, a hideously uncommon sight, and rage began to build within her as she recalled that. As she thought about the years of further memories the two might build, and how that limited time had almost been cut even shorter. It disgusted her.

 

It wasn't just rage, either. An old hatred was beginning to stir, one Abigail thought she had buried for good when she had given up her role as an Enforcer in favor of her current position as Regional Liaison. It was with a disappointed sigh that she realized that this particular hatred would likely always be a part of her, at least for the foreseeable future. Especially with an incident such as this further reinforcing it.

 

That hatred of Alphas. Of all the cruelty they had treated her kind with. Of how utterly disposable they had been treated as, with no protections whatsoever aside from what any random Alpha chose to provide in a world that, by and large, had encouraged the majority to simply do whatever they wished with Betas without restraint. Because they hadn't been "people", not then. Dogs and cats had had more rights, and it was a sick case of irony that one of their largest allies after Kayla's ascension was a family that had spent years trying to have Betas legally classified as pets.

 

Hatred of the fact that her beloved little husband wasn't even academically recognized as a doctor, because he had been forced to hitch a ride with his now ex-wife as she went through med school. Never mind the brilliance he had shown in applying what he had seen; no, because he had been unable to formally attend university, he had nothing to show for it aside from the people he helped. And while that was certainly enough for him, Abigail still found the matter degrading.

 

Hatred of the fact that as her son came within arm's reach of attaining the recognition that his father would never have, and despite 24 more years of advancement, he had still been utterly helpless to stop the impulsive cruelty of three girls that were simply bigger than him.

 

A helplessness that would only continue.

 

The final test of the Compressor had been an utter failure, leaving behind only a crater of melted rock the size of a football stadium where the testing facility had once stood. A remnant of an explosion of cosmic energies that burned hotter and brighter than any sun, all caused by a device meant to be carried in the pockets of people less than three inches tall.

 

There had been no casualties or injuries, thankfully - Kayla had immediately taken control of the explosion, containing its growth and radiation as Abigail and her companions evacuated the building. Her friend had eventually been forced to allow it to consume the facility as she stabilized it, eventually simply absorbing the energy into herself so it could be put to later use. An action carried out by compressing the thing one last time, until it was like a small candy between the woman's fingers. A candy that had promptly disappeared beyond her lips. Most likely, it would turn into a fresh batch of Detonators to be distributed amongst the Omegas, and Abigail allowed herself a smile as she considered requesting one for her own use for the next time she saw her husband.

 

The project itself, however, was immediately scrapped. Their technology had ultimately hit a road block, it seemed. A tiny little machine simply could not match up against a woman who could impose her will upon reality itself, among numerous other benefits that came from the role that she had assumed so many years ago. Sure, it could initiate the correct particle responses to replicate Kayla's energy, but it couldn't properly manipulate or control it, and Kayla had apparently gleaned enough from that failed attempt to know that it wasn't worth pursuing further.

 

So ultimately, they had wasted their time and resources on a bunch of nothing. Betas were no safer, and were still utterly dependent on the Omegas to insure what safety they did have. They would continue to have no means to protect themselves, and opportunistic Alphas would likely continue to take advantage of that fact.

 

On a more personal level, Abigail was disappointed that her own time had also been wasted. She could have been home already, supporting her son in his recovery. She should be there, and a part of her resented Kayla for keeping her here for a failed project. But sitting up and stretching for a moment before rubbing at her temple, she had to admit that the resentment was unfair. If she had pressed her, Kayla would have allowed her to go.

 

No, she had wanted to stay, to see the project to completion. She had wanted to be here when it succeeded, with every fiber of her being. Because if the previous night's testing had been a success, just one more month of adjustments would have been needed. Because then she could have personally taken the first Compressor home with her, a product of years of study, research, and work on her part. She would have been able to give it to her son, give him a personal assurance that he would never be helpless against an Alpha ever again. And it had promptly blown up in her face.

 

So she had forsaken her duty as a parent, and been punished for it.

 

"You've done nothing worth being punished for, Abby" a soft voice comforted from behind her, tinged ever so slightly with just enough drawl to let you know where the owner of it had grown up. The voice was accompanied by two arms encircling her from behind her chair, squeezing her in a tight, comforting embrace as they pulled her against the back of her chair.

 

She had tried to resist momentarily, content to wallow in her bitterness, but there was little point. She may be over a hundred feet taller than when she was as an adolescent, but one thing had remained the same: Compared to Kayla Everett, she was just as helpless as she had always been. The only true difference was that now, the woman that had protected her for so many years truly was a god.

 

"Now, now," Kayla chastised, and Abigail felt the woman's chin come to rest on her left shoulder. A certain playfulness accompanied those two words, but as Kayla began to speak once more, Abigail felt as if a crushing weight was pressing down upon her. "You know how I feel about that term, Abigail."

 

Abigail knew that weight well. It was a weight that had come to accompany almost every word her dearest friend spoke as the years passed by. The weight of absolute authority. The authority of a woman who had come to hold the power of evolution within the palm of her hand.

 

The woman who was the living embodiment of evolution itself, that supreme force of will that guided all progress. All life. The woman who had set the course for humanity for millennia to come. 

 

 Abigail wasn't impressed, allowing that weight to simply fall to the wayside. Kayla could become as powerful as she liked as far as she was concerned. As big as she wanted. Even if the world were nothing more than a marble before her, there were no circumstances that existed in the universe that would allow Abigail to be even remotely afraid of the woman embracing her. Not of the woman who, as a teenager growing up on her father's little farm, had acted as a guardian for the small colony of Betas that lived underneath her barn. Who had taught them how to read and even write.

 

Who Abigail had been brought before as a toddler, her older brother's hand holding her own as she met her colony's benefactor and climbed onto her palm for what would be the first of many times, before things had gone so horribly wrong.

 

No, Kayla could maintain that aura of intimidation for as long as she liked, it made no difference to her.

 

"You materialize behind me, you read my mind," Abigail answered, unphased, "and last night you may as well have eaten a star. I'm not sure any other term is applicable at this point."

 

And that's not even the pinnacle of what I've seen you do, she thought, uncaring of whether or not Kayla was still in her head.

 

"Maybe so," Kayla answered, and Abigail's ears picked up a certain sentimental sadness to her tone, "but I don't want you of all people to think of me like that." Kayla's embrace tightened a little with those words, and Abigail found herself bringing a hand to her waist to grasp Kayla's own interlocking grip. "You're family to me, Abby. That's why I gave you a piece of me."

 

"That "piece" is in every Omega," she replied, unimpressed by the gesture. "You gave it to all of the First."

 

"I did nothing of the sort," Kayla retorted, her voice heating up in her ear. "You're the only one I chose for this, Abby, and you know that." Abigail felt Kayla's hands wrest from her grasp then, felt her arms part from her waist and the woman's chin lift from her shoulder as her friend put an end to their embrace. Sighing, she quickly caught Kayla's right wrist before her arm could fully withdraw, and it was with some relief that Kayla allowed herself to be halted by her. That remark had been unfair of her, a small lashing out born of her own bitterness. Kayla was here because she was concerned for her, and yet...

 

"I'm sorry," Abigail offered guiltily. "I shouldn't be taking my problems out on you."

 

"No," Kayla replied coolly, "you shouldn't be." Abigail suddenly felt her friend's hand close around her grasping arm. The grip was firm, comforting. "What's bothering you, Abby? I know these last few days haven't been kind, but this isn't like you." Abigail couldn't help but snort.

 

"Do you know who I've spent the last two decades despising, Kayla?" she asked angrily, sweeping her free hand through her dark hair.

 

"Let's say I don't," Kayla replied. Gently, though, and without a hint of patronization. As invasive as Kayla could be at times, she ultimately had a good sense of when to put a stop to that behavior, of when it was better for her to just sit and listen instead of poke and prod.

 

"Corey's birth mother," Abigail answered with a sneer, "I've hated that woman since the night I met Howard, when she abandoned the two of them at a Facility."

 

Kayla's grip on her broke then, and the woman's wrist easily slid from Abigail's own. The telltale sound of Kayla's usual pair of flat boots against the floor followed, and a glance to her left revealed that her friend was circling around to the front of the desk. The woman walked with as deliberate a pace as always, her white lab coat fluttering lightly behind her knees as they passed out of her vision.

 

Finally, Kayla turned to face her so that she could take the opposite seat. The wardrobe for today, like most days, was composed of a mini skirt - brown today - worn over a pair of black leggings that would disappear into her calf-high flat suede boots, and a green sweater. Looking at her friend's face, framed by hazelnut tresses that fell messily to the sides as the rest of her locks were pulled into a short ponytail behind her head, an arched eyebrow caught Abigail's immediate attention.

 

"So what? You think you abandoned him too?" Kayla asked as she took a seat, crossing her legs and reclining into the back of the chair. Their eyes locked then, and Abigail immediately wished they hadn't.

 

Physically, Kayla Everett was indistinguishable from any other Omega. For the most part. She wasn't the tallest, she wasn't the shortest, though she veered toward the former more than the latter. Her strength far surpassed that of herself or any of the others, but that was impossible to tell just by looking at her. Kayla had always been strong, sure. The woman had hit the genetic lottery to begin with, possessing an athleticism and intellect most would kill for. Growing up on a farm and working the fields with her father had also done well in developing her strength, but that was nothing compared to now.

 

No, what set Kayla apart from every Omega, what marked her as the supreme being she had become so many years ago, were her eyes. While always a striking emerald, now her irises were seas of luminous green that pulsated with varying intensity based on her emotions. Disconcerting enough on their own, but a look at the woman's pupils would tell the rest of the story to any Omega that looked, or any Beta that got close enough. They seemed to act as portals to the stars themselves, each one a canvas of shining lights against an endless backdrop of darkness, a canvas that moved as Kayla did. Abigail sometimes found herself wondering if a person could fall into that darkness, to be lost forever.

 

A blink from Kayla snapped her out of her fixation, and Abigail gave her head a quick shake to clear it. Focusing on those eyes might be just as bad as actually going through them, she thought, while noticing that Kayla's lips had curled into a small grin. Abigail would never fear this woman, but being disconcerted wasn't entirely off the table.

 

"I do," Abigail confirmed sadly, "but that's the least of it. I've spent so many years hating that woman, Kayla, and then I turn around and do the same thing to him. The only difference in my eyes is that at least when she did it, he was only six months old and had no idea what had happened. Me..."

 

"I remember her, now," Kayla remarked, her nose crinkling in disgust. "Some Alpha who thought it was romantic to have a little husband dependent on her, wasn't it? Thought it was cute to take him through school, then didn't take nearly that well to having a little son." Kayla's arms crossed underneath her chest, a look of annoyed contemplation on her face. "I think the excuse was something about not wanting to invest in a...how did you say she put it? "A child with no future," wasn't it?"

 

Abigail responded with a small nod, eliciting a sneer from her friend.

 

"Well, I can't begin to act like I'm in a proper position to evaluate parenting," Kayla noted softly, "not with that little deadbeat son of mine just wandering wherever he pleases for the past fifty years. But the way I see it, you and that woman are about as opposite as you can get. You made the choice that you did because you felt it was it was necessary for his future. At the absolute least, your decision boiled down to doing what you felt was best for him. You didn't just abandon him because of selfish bullshit."

 

Abigail's immediate response was to click her tongue. That sure sounded nice, but it did little to assuage her feeling that she should have gone home...that she should be at home.

 

"Besides," Kayla remarked, a playful smile now on her face, "if you had gone home, he wouldn't have spent last night where he did."

 

"Where?!" Abigail found herself snapping, her melancholy suddenly a thing of the distant past as she glared at her now chuckling friend.

 

"Oh, he spent the night with the elder King girl. Had a pleasant evening together, from what I've gleaned. Seems like it might be the first of many."

 

Abigail's right eye twitched at the teasing mockery with which that last bit had been delivered. It wasn't as if she disliked Melody or anything, the girl was an absolute angel, and her infatuation with her son had been an open secret for years. Her mother, though...

 

"Abby, it's been four years," Kayla remarked with a laugh. "Let it go."

 

"I don't like the woman, Kayla," Abigail stated coldly. "She embarrassed my son in front of Claire's class and took him from her. She had no right-"

 

"She was the instructor, Abby."

 

"-no right to take him from his sister and make him sit on her desk in front of the class, in front of his friends, like a child," Abigail spat, her cheeks burning red with frustration. Melody was a fine girl, and if she and Corey hit it off then so be it, but she did not relish the thought of Grace King becoming part of the family she had shown such complete disrespect towards. That she had had the gall to interfere with her family, with her children...

 

A sudden, sharp laughter came from Kayla then as the woman threw her head back in hysteria before doubling over as the continued laughter shook her body. The sight soothed Abigail's frustration, but she couldn't help but feel a certain sadness over it. When was the last time she had seen Kayla laugh like this? A decade ago? The woman allowed herself a slight amusement here and there, but usually contained herself to much smaller outbursts than what this was. Abigail wasn't even sure what had been funny enough to elicit this kind of reaction. Did she find Abigail's anger funny?

 

"I'm sorry," Kayla eventually choked out between laughs. They were subsiding now as she regained her bearings. "I shouldn't laugh, I know," she continued, looking up to meet Abigail's gaze again, her brightly burning eyes beginning to dim, "I just...Abby, your family has just been a treat to observe these last couple of days. You all love each other so much, it's...well, it's nothing like what I have with Marshall."

 

Abigail couldn't help but grimace. Kayla had seemed so happy for a moment there, to see how quickly that transformed into sadness over the span of a single sentence as her friend thought of her son was such a jarring experience. It was true that her nephew, Kayla's son, had been overtaken by a fifty year wanderlust in his twenties that had left him estranged from his aunt and mother, but...

 

"Kayla, you've always been welcome into my home. You know that. You're part of my family, too, and...and I'd love for you to be involved with Claire and Corey, even if it's just talking to them every now and then..."

 

Images of the past once again flashed through Abigail's mind. Of being that toddler again, and playing with Kayla's fingertip. Of perching on Kayla's shoulder as she read through a small children's book all on her own for the first time. Of curling up on Kayla's stomach and watching so many amazing documentaries. Of eagerly listening to Kayla's science lessons and discovering her own love for physics in the process.

 

"You've been such an important fixture in my life, Kayla," Abigail stated sadly, her eyes downcast, "I want you to be there for my children, too..."

 

More images. Of so many piggyback rides from her brother. Of him standing up for her, defending her. Saving her life. Of him never backing down from anyone who questioned the worth of him or any other Beta.

 

Of the looks he had begun to exchange with Kayla as the years had passed by and she went through college and eventually arrived at that awful facility. Of waking up one night towards the end of that ordeal to see him sleeping on Kayla's breast, the larger woman gingerly stroking him while remaining unaware that Abigail had awoken.

 

"...Marshall, too. I want him to at least meet his cousins, even if it's just once. I think Graham would want that, too."

 

Silence overtook them then. Abigail's gaze continued to focus on her desk, though a cursory glance upward would reveal a pensive Kayla.

 

"I agree with that," Kayla said, breaking the silence. Abigail lifted her head to make eye contact. Kayla looked serious now, focused. All business.

 

Which meant Abigail was about to hear something she wouldn't want to.

 

"Get it over with, then," she remarked with annoyance. Kayla sighed.

 

"Being honest, Abby, there's no real reason for you to remain here. We're done with that project, and anything else I might require of you can easily be done from home."

 

Abigail frowned. That sounded like a good thing, but Kayla's tone and expression made it clear that there was something else.

 

"But?"

 

"But," Kayla continued, "I don't want you to go home. Not yet. At least not for another month or so, while I continue to observe things there."

 

"And what, precisely, are you...observing?" Abigail drawled in barely concealed resentment.

 

"Where to start?" Kayla mused, bringing a hand up to correct those fake glasses. "I want your daughter to have plenty of time with those girls, without your influence. I know you, Abby, and I know that the moment you walk through that door you're going to have Claire handling their sentences how you want her to. I don't want that happening. She needs to establish her own modus operandi, what she's comfortable with doing and what she wants from her charges in the future. She's made a promise to each of those girls, and I want to see how well she follows through on them."

 

"And? What else?" Abigail asked. So far, this reasoning was looking rather thin. Another sigh preceded Kayla's next words.

 

"It's changed, Abby. That piece of me. The Fire."

 

"Changed?" Abigail inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Changed how?"

 

"It's...evolved," Kayla explained. "It's honestly amazing. The first generation of naturally-born Omegas, and its already altered itself in most of them compared to their parents."

 

Abigail had to admit, begrudgingly, that her curiosity was now piqued. Those pieces - the Fire - had originally just acted as litmus tests and triggers for the people that had ascended to the new race of Omegas as it sought out people with an intense desire to protect the Betas, to provide them a future in accordance with Kayla's desires. Abigail was the lone exception to that test, Kayla had forced the creation of one more piece to spark her own ascension. That piece had stayed within each of them after the fact, giving them access to a handful of Kayla's abilities, as well as allowing them to handle the Betas with an almost supernatural tenderness. It had also been passed down to their children, after Kayla had given them permission to mate. How could it have changed? What could it be doing?

 

"It's actually acting as a coping mechanism now," Kayla answered, her voice seeping with fascination. "It provides a certain sense of self-satisfaction when carrying out their...dirtier tasks. My current hypothesis is that it's a reaction to the fact that these children weren't chosen like their parents were. They just happened to be born with this responsibility. They're doing what they're doing because that's how they've been raised, but that isn't a substitute for the resolve that allowed you and the rest of the First to do the things that we did. Hell, more fascinating is that it seems to be doing this only in the Enforcers. Melody's Fire, for instance, is indistinguishable from what rests within you and her mother. But even within the Enforcers, it isn't consistent. Jenna Reynolds' Fire is also unaltered, but it also has no need to change for her."

 

"Why is that?" Abigail asked. Jenna, like Melody, was a sweet girl, but with what Kayla had told her it seemed as if she would be a prime candidate for a change in her Fire.

 

"Well," Kayla began with a knowing smirk, "that "sweet girl" is a sadist. Self-aware and with a staggering amount of self-control, thankfully, but still a sadist. She's going to enjoy her work regardless, so again, no need for it to change when her brain chemistry handles the matter for her. In any case, nothing but Class A offenders for her, and no offenders who have a high chance of rehabilitation."

 

Abigail couldn't hide a frown. Hearing that the sweet little girl that she had watched grow up alongside her own daughter, that had handled her son countless times, had such inclinations was...disheartening, to say the least. Still, the girl had never shown anything less than adoration and protectiveness toward Betas, so she supposed there was nothing to fear from that. Kayla certainly hadn't implied anything contrary. It also reminded her of a question she had been meaning to ask.

 

More worrying at the moment, though...

 

"And Claire?" she asked.

 

"It's definitely present within her," Kayla answered, and Abigail grunted slightly. "The girl certainly enjoys her power, and I won't say she's unwilling to get her hands dirty even without that change in the Fire, but it's certainly been attempting to influence her."

 

"Attempting?" The word had immediately caught Abigail's attention.

 

"That's the interesting part, to me. With two of her charges, she actually managed to fight back against the feeling it tried to provide. I was very impressed. Others haven't been nearly that successful."

 

Abigail had to fight back a smile. She couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in her daughter. Still, she had a sudden understanding of why Kayla wanted her to stay away from home.

 

"So, what, you want to observe her without introducing another variable?"

 

"Essentially," Kayla responded. "I want to see if she can continue to control that feeling when she feels that she needs to, and I want to continue to observe her as well as the others I'm keeping an eye on. I need to know if this change can be dangerous, and if it is, then observing your daughter may provide some insight on methods we can introduce to control it."

 

"I'm not a fan of this change, Abby," she stated seriously, "and I intend to contain it if needed. Even if it means keeping you away from it."

 

Abigail sighed. She didn't like this. Any of it. She did want to get home and see her son, to keep an eye on her daughter. But...this change was disturbing.

 

"So, what, you just want me to sit around here doing nothing for a month?"

 

"Not quite," Kayla answered with a suddenly chipper tone. "I actually have a little...travel assignment for you, if you're interested."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I meant what I said earlier, Abby, about wanting my son to at least meet his cousins. Marshall actually let me reach out to him a few days ago. Just for a moment, mind you, a small check-in to let me know where he was. And after our little talk, I was wondering if you might be interested in a little trip to find him."

 

Abigail's heart skipped a beat. Was Kayla being serious? Did she really have a location pinned down for him?

 

"Sort of," Kayla stated. "He's in a city in China, but I can't give a specific location within it. He may have even moved on. But if he has, someone there likely knows where to, and all you ultimately need to do is make him aware of you. He was always fond of you growing up, and I have to believe he'll at least give you the chance to talk to him."

 

"So if I do this, and if I find him, will you allow me to go home?" Abigail asked, bargaining. She was still apprehensive about this, but...it would give her a chance to see her nephew, to see if she couldn't bring her family a little closer together. It was something constructive to do while Kayla performed her little observations.

 

"I'll agree to that," Kayla stated. "Three weeks minimum, though. I want to observe at least that many weeks' worth of sessions."

 

"Fine. But if I find him, and get him to come visit, then you have to come along with him when he does."

 

Kayla smiled at that.

 

"I'll do that regardless. In fact, I'll be there the day he gets out of that Chamber and can walk again. I promise. I owe you that much for asking you to stay away from home." Kayla rose to her feet then, straightening her coat out as she did so. "In any case, I suggest you get ready to leave while the trail's still warm. Just grab my attention when you're ready to go and I'll send you to the Hong Kong Facility. They have a few Detonators stocked, so feel free to grab one, along with any field agents you feel you might need. From there, you'll want to go to Macau."

 

"And...thank you for doing this for me, Abby," Kayla stated as she turned to leave. "I know I'm being...demanding, that this isn't easy for you. I'm sorry for that. But I can't let this go unchecked."

 

Abigail stared at her for a moment, as the woman made her way to the door.

 

"Kayla," she called, one thing still on her mind.

 

"Hm?"

 

"You said nothing but Class-A offenders for Jenna, didn't you?"

 

"I did. Unless they have the capacity to be rehabilitated."

 

"So is that why you transferred those girls to Claire from her custody?" Abigail asked. The choice had bothered her when she first heard about it, but she had forgotten about it in the wake of the Compressor failure. The talk about Jenna's tendencies had served as a reminder.

 

"Partly," Kayla answered flatly, standing at the door with her back turned to Abigail still. "I do think two of them can be rehabilitated, they could even prove useful after the fact if things go well."

 

"And the third?" Abigail asked.

 

Kayla turned around then, and Abigail shuddered. The woman's eyes now burned with such intensity that their earlier brightness during her outburst of laughter may as well have been that of a dim bulb. Her lips were curled into a cruel smile, showing off those immaculate teeth. Kayla's expression was a familiar one: It had typically accompanied the triumph over or the humiliation of someone the woman found utterly detestable.

 

She spoke only two more words before continuing on her way:

 

"A treat."

...and then we came to that dirt road, and God knows we should have just turned back. Just stayed at the edge of the wood. Just...anything except crossing it. Anything would have been better than that. If we had just waited, taken a break for five, maybe ten minutes...

 

But no. We had peeked out from the tall grass at the side of the road, and things had looked clear. It was summer, it was hot, and we needed water if we were to make it to our next stop. My father knew there was a pond across it and on our way, he had come through there once as a child with his father. More than that, though, was that we could see it in the distance...the tower that marked the end of our long pilgrimage, the safe haven we had heard of.

 

So we were desperate. We got caught up in the moment of finally just seeing a sign of our journey's end. We didn't think. And after another quick look both ways - revealing just an empty road that stretched near infinitely one way while the other disappeared in a curve behind the wood - we chose to cross, as quickly as we could. But quickly for us is not quick at all, especially when it comes to a family of six, with two of us not even teenagers yet. When your big sister walks with a limp. When your grandfather is getting on in years, and moving slower every day. So we crossed at the quickest pace we could manage.

 

To this day, it disturbs me how clearly I remember those next few moments. Though I trust that the readers will forgive me if I choose to be sparse in my words. I was bringing up the rear with my Granddad, and in front of us were my mom and older sister. Up front was Dad, holding my little sister's hand. We had gotten about a quarter of the way across, when suddenly my older sister tripped over herself a bit. Mom caught her, thankfully, but Dad still turned around to check up on her. And then...

 

And then there was a hole in his chest, easily the size of his head. Everything seemed to freeze in that second, as his body was propelled backwards by the impact. All we could do was just sit there and stare at him, at his corpse with that disgusting, gory hole. I know that I had stopped breathing...I think that all of us had, then, as we processed what had just happened. But eventually, my head started to turn in the direction that...whatever had done that to my father seemed to have come from.

 

A light drizzle of warm, red liquid hit me then, even as my eyes found the cause of my father's death. A bit down the road, where it curved behind the thicket, were three Alpha boys, probably just a couple of years older than I was the time, though I profess that I didn't truly have any time to study their details. No, what drew my attention was what one of them held in his hands. Straight black iron on polished wood. Pointed right at us. I learned sometime later that it was apparently called a "pellet gun" or some-such. That it's commonly used to exterminate small pests. I'm sure that the reader can imagine my disdain upon learning that.

 

Of course, I could only be unphased by that sudden spray of liquid for so long, especially after the soft thud that followed it. I tore my eyes away from the distant Alphas even as a chorus of raucous laughter emanated from them, and focused instead on my more immediate vicinity and the source of that thud.

 

My grandfather's body greeted me, splayed ignobly across the dirt. His head was just....gone. It didn't take me long to realize what had sprayed across me. I was young, not stupid, and at first I did the only thing I imagine a girl that age could be expected to do.

 

I screamed. Not for long, my mother saw to that, but I let out a good one. My mother had quickly grabbed me, pulled at me. Got me going. Got me running. I could still hear that distant laughter, but I didn't dare look again. The ground was steady, that meant they were keeping their distance, but the Alphas had twice proven that they had no need to close in. The person with the gun seemed to be more than adept at its use. So we ran, and we made progress. But we still had our limitations. My mother was carrying little Mary after catching up to her and scooping her up. I was in near shock and almost tripped over my own feet I don't know how many times. I was also eleven, and already bordering on dehydration.

 

And then there was Anne, with her limp. Anne who started to fall behind, who simply pushed me forward when I attempted to hang back, to help.

 

Anne who was promptly split in two at her waist just a few feet from the edge of the road, to the sound of thunderous cheers.

 

Anne who was still alive, and how I still have no idea. But as I started to scream once again, she screamed even louder for me to go, to keep going, So I did, and caught up to my mom and Mary. We found a place to hide at the edge of that road, and readers will have to excuse me if I don't give details on that. I'm not about to tell any Alpha what they might look for if one of us suddenly disappears. We sat there, listening to my sister scream and sob in anguish and pain as what little life remained drained from her body. I still remember Mom holding her hands over Mary's ears in an attempt to save her from that noise even as the two of us quietly sobbed to ourselves, desperately attempting to keep the sounds of our grieving low should our tormenters come near.

 

My sister's voice faded into nothingness soon enough, Along, I hope to this day, with her. I hope she was dead by the time those boys passed by. They were laughing and cutting up as they did so, about something that wasn't even us. We had apparently been some quick distraction, a passing amusement, and quickly fell to the back of their minds.

 

Still, though, we waited in our hiding spot for some time, fearful that they might be quietly lurking nearby. Eventually, we went on our way. We didn't dare look back at that road, much less go back for the bodies of those we left behind. Instead, we continued forward, and through some blessing or another, every step we took from that moment on was an uneventful one, the the point where I honestly feel no need to say another word about it.

 

I cannot adequately express how simultaneously that fact both relieved and distressed me, as we reached our goal just a day later without the barest hint of danger. That I am happy that we made it without even further casualties should go without saying.

 

But that a difference in minutes cost the lives of my father, my grandfather, my big sister...that just a few minutes later or earlier on our part would have meant the difference between a decimated family and a whole one?

 

That will never leave the forefront of my mind. Fifteen years after the fact, and it still hasn't.

But we made it there. To salvation. To providence. To the tower that marked the presence of the new gods, the ones we had heard of, the ones that would protect us. The ones that did and continue to do so. They don't like us calling them that, and it's gracious of them to feel that way, but I don't care. You can quote me on that, and this: Anyone that would do that for us, that would lift us out of that hellish existence where our only purpose in life was to die...to provide joy to others through our suffering...that's a fucking god to me. One worth every bit of praise I can give to it.

 

And don't you dare leave that out.

 

-Sophie Miles

 

"Whatcha readin?" a perky voice called from out in the distance, and Naomi nearly dropped her tablet from sheer surprise, so engrossed had she been in her reading. The device briefly bobbled between her hands before she managed to secure it, holding it tight against her chest. A girlish giggle could thundered around her.

 

She desperately needed to wipe her running nose, her eyes. She could swear that every successive account given in this book just got worse and worse, yet she didn't regret reading it. Not for a second.

 

And then it hit her. How familiar that voice was.

 

Lifting her eyes from her tablet with a sniff, Naomi couldn't help but do so as slowly as she could manage in an attempt to stall. Even then, though, it didn't take her eyes long to lift from the foot of her bed to the floor of her little room, nor to the glass that imprisoned her. Two fair towers could be seen on the other side, and Naomi's mouth went dry as she continued to trace them upward. Upward and over the rim of her cage.

 

Please, no, she thought to herself as her eyes locked with two far-away icy-blue orbs. As she took in those familiar eyes, that familiar strawberry hair.

 

"Well?" asked Jenna Reynolds, even as her lips parted into that wide, toothy, terrifying smile.

 

Naomi watched with lips pursed and bated breath as the smiling face far above her began to slowly tilt to the right. The judgmental titaness, sitting upon Claire's bed as if it were the throne of God, continued to focus her unbroken and unblinking gaze upon her. Naomi instinctively pulled her legs in, as close as she could manage. If her hands didn't already have a death grip on her tablet, she was sure they would be wrapped around her legs as tightly as possible. It had been a month, but she could remember her treatment at Jenna's hands as if their encounter had happened only yesterday. How disgusted the comparatively all-powerful woman had been with her, the browbeating she had received. The pain that had accompanied her squeezing grip.

 

The mixture of terror and outright shame at being treated with just as much mercy and restraint as she herself had shown. Of looking into those blue eyes that stared at her with a hunger that, as the days had passed by, she worried had been present in her own eyes when she had held Claire's poor brother in her hands.

 

Naomi's vision began to blur as her eyes began to moisten even more, and her cheeks tickled as the liquid rolled down them.

 

She could barely even make out Jenna's mouth as it began to move.

 

"Do we need a reminder about my expectations when it comes to answers, little girl?" Jenna's powerful voice asked in playful condescension.

 

"N-No!" Naomi squeaked out immediately and pathetically, and her ears picked up a soft snort. With a shiver she slid her feet forward a bit and pulled her tablet from her chest, placing it on her mattress before wiping her eyes dry on the sleeve of her t-shirt.

 

"I-It's um," she stuttered out fearfully as she once more got a clear look at Jenna's amused countenance, "it's "Tales from the Road," Ms. Jenna."

 

Jenna's head straightened quickly at that, her smile fading somewhat as her eyes narrowed.

 

"Whose account are you at, then?" Jenna inquired curiously, the pep suddenly absent from her voice.

 

"Sophie...Sophie Miles," Naomi responded with a gulp. "I just finished it." The curve of the looming Omega's lips flatlined then, her visage shifting to something Naomi never would have expected.

 

"Horrible, wasn't it?" Jenna asked with a gentleness that seemed almost unnatural in being directed at her. Naomi nodded with a sniffle as Jenna continued. "That was actually the first book I read, y'know? The first real book, I mean. Not a children's book, not one I was assigned to read. I've read a lot more since, especially in that vein, but none have really stuck with me quite like that one has over the years."

 

Jenna's eyes closed then, and truthfully, Naomi thought that she might consider her face as angelic in that moment as she took in the softness of her features. The giant woman's shoulders heaved with a sigh, and those eyes slowly opened once again.

 

"Sophie's story, in particular," she continued softly, "is the one I remember the most. A lot of the stories there...they upset me, obviously, through all that abuse. That despair. But Sophie's sets a bar for cruelty that none of the others ever really match." Jenna's eyes narrowed once again, her nose crinkled. "And it didn't just upset me, Naomi, it made me angry. Angry at the sheer callousness of those boys, angry at the pain they caused, at the joy they took in taking the life of an old man. Of a girl who was barely a teenager. Of a father. Angry at the sheer fucking pointlessness of it all."

Naomi pulled her legs in closely again, and this time did wrap her arms around them, pulling them tightly into her chest and immediately nuzzling into her knees. Her eyes were closed, and fresh tears were beginning to form. Sophie's story really had been the worst of what she had seen. Easily.

"Crying again?" Jenna asked, a certain derisiveness in her voice. "You were crying when I came in, too. Did Sophie's story make you cry, girl?"

"Yes," Naomi cried into her knees. Of course it did. It had been awful. She couldn't imagine not crying.

"Interesting," Jenna noted with that same mocking tone. "So, little Naomi, how does it make you feel to be just like those three boys? To know that there really is no difference between you and them?"

"How does it feel, knowing that Sophie and her family would have actually fared no better had you been the one to find them? That they could have actually fared worse?"

A sob wracked Naomi's body. She wanted to deny that. To distance herself from that cruelty. To say that she would have left that poor family alone, that she would have helped them, even.

But there was no point in lying. Not to Jenna, and not to herself.

"Awful," she sobbed. "Just...awful."

"Interesting, indeed," Jenna affirmed with a mocking chuckle. "But that's good. I'm glad that you feel bad about the type of person you are, about what you did. I'm glad that you're a crying little mess about it. That Sophie's story made you feel that way. Because it shows that you at least have some level of compassion, even if it's what I'd consider to be the bare minimum."

"So. One more question, Naomi, and then we get down to business," Jenna informed her with a sudden return of her perkiness, causing Naomi to cringe in anticipation. She didn't want to "get down to business". Didn't want to know what this "business" was. Where was Claire? Why was this happening again? "Where, exactly, was that compassion at...when you were on the cusp of killing my dear friend?"

An inhuman whine escaped from Naomi as Jenna's question entered her ears, and she futilely attempted to bury her head even further into her knees in response.

"None of that," Jenna declared, seemingly louder than she had been before. "Remember, Naomi: Answers, and prompt ones at that. So pick your head up, wipe your little eyes, and look at me while you answer my question."

Another sniff, but Naomi felt compelled to relent from her effort to disappear into herself. Wiping her eyes against the taut material of her yoga pants, she slowly looked upward to deliver the only answer that had come to mind.

Then jerked backwards in terror, her back flat against her bed as she met Jenna's intense gaze while the Omega's face now hovered just above her enclosure. She had no idea how something so large could move so silently, but the the towering woman was now resting on her haunches directly in front of the cells.

"Answer me," Jenna commanded authoritatively.

"I..." Naomi started, looking away from the bare legs that fed into a pair of khaki shorts before her and up once more into Jenna's gaze.

"I don't know," she finished with another whine, and subconsciously prepared herself for whatever Jenna's response to such an answer,

A response that arrived in the form of laughter. Exasperated laughter, but laughter nonetheless. Naomi continued to look upward, confused and scared.

"God, what the fuck is Claire thinking, clearing you for this?" Jenna asked among her bitter laughter, seemingly more to herself than to Naomi.

Clearing...her? What?

To Naomi's surprise, a bubble of curiosity began to rise up her throat, and she was powerless to stop it from popping out of her mouth.

"Clearing me for what?" she asked, her curiosity temporarily overriding everything else. Jenna's laughter faded almost immediately.

"Put some shoes on," she commanded, voice deadpan. Naomi complied quickly, shifting into a sitting position at the side of her bed, her bare feet finding her shoes on the floor below.

"Congratulations, Naomi Sung," Jenna stated with false enthusiasm as one foot slipped into a shoe, "Enforcer Lindon has cleared you to begin your community service, effective tomorrow."

Naomi paused, her other foot hanging halfway out of its shoe. She had...had been approved for community service? And immediately after the first month? A certain elation began to build within her. Claire had remained true to her word after their first session - there had been no feeling of true danger in the proceeding three. But that hadn't meant complete restraint from the powerful Enforcer. She certainly didn't shy away from some level of pain - her body was still aching from the morning's session, even. But somehow....somehow, seeing Claire's face made it bearable. There was no pleasure there, just resignation.

Nothing like how she had looked at Marion since that day, and that made all the difference to her. But a chance to lessen her punishments was still appreciated, as was the chance to do something good...to give something back.

"And due to the nature of your assignment for the next two months," Jenna continued from above her, still not bothering to hide her contempt for her co-worker's decision, "it has been determined by your supervisor that you need something a bit more...professional to wear. Exercise clothes and wetsuits are not going to cut it in your work environment." Naomi finally managed to slip her other shoe on as she digested this information. New clothes...that sounded nice. "Furthermore, Enforcer Lindon has determined - of her own accord, mind you - that you are deserving of some...fresh air, so to speak. For good behavior."

"So we're going shopping," Jenna finished, her enthusiasm managing to hit an all time low. "You and me."

Naomi swallowed. She was going to be spending the day with Jenna? Why was she...? Actually, why did she even need...

"Um, " Naomi started as another bubble made its way up. "What is my assignment, actually?"

"It's summer," Jenna replied matter-of-factually, "and that means museum field trips for the Beta elementary schools. Claire says you've been doing very well in your handling tests, so you'll be acting as one of many chaperones during those visits. You'll be responsible for handling at least one group of children during their scheduled visit, among other things that we'll go into later."

Naomi almost wanted to squeal. She loved children, and Beta children...they must be so cute!

"Yes, they're very cute," Jenna remarked with another sigh, and Naomi's face went red at her apparent transparency. "And also very, very fragile. So show some self control with these Betas, hm?" The venom was back for that, Naomi shamefully nodded her head in compliance even as she suddenly found herself scooped rather unceremoniously from her bed and up toward Jenna's face, rising in time with it as the Omega stood to her full height. Jenna was not nearly as deliberate in standing as Claire, and Naomi felt as if her stomach and sunk clear through her back and onto the fingers below her.

"Um, Ms. Jenna?" Naomi asked as her hostess began to walk. There was something else she was curious about.

"What?" Jenna responded with disinterest, not even sparing her a look.

"Why isn't," Naomi started, curiosity bubbling past her fear again, "why isn't Ms. Lindon taking me to do this? I mean, I don't...I don't think you really want to do this, so I'm just..."

"Confused?" the Omega asked, coming to a stop in the doorway of Claire's bedroom. "The reason is because unlike you and, unfortunately, me, Claire is very busy at the moment. She has your little friend to deal with, has to pick up Mr. Lindon at the airport, has to prepare for tonight..."

Mr. Lindon? Tonight? What?

Naomi stared up at her apparent shopping companion for the day, dumbfounded. Claire hadn't said anything about....anything. Not about her community service, not about...any of this. Jenna, now peering down at her with that continued disinterest, caught on to her look.

"There's going to be a little...get-together, of sorts, over here tonight. A kind of "Welcome Home"party, if you will. A few families in the neighborhood will be here - I'll be here with my moms. Mr. Lindon's been gone for a while now, so Claire wanted to do something special for her dad now that he's back." And to Naomi's surprise, that gentle, angelic visage returned to Jenna's face as she spoke of Claire's father. Returned, and then disappeared as a sly smirk replaced her soft smile and her eyes narrowed to match.

"Ah, and her mom'll be home, too," Jenna informed her, perkiness now at maximum.

 

 

Resting on her knees as softly and, more importantly, as quietly as possible, Stephanie found herself in a losing battle against the continuously widening smile on her face. Leaning in closer and closer to the floor, her eyes locked greedily upon the cloth flap that separated her from another victory. She had already canvassed the rest of the house, leaving the underside of the living room recliner as the last possible haven for her diminutive target.

 

Reaching a hand forward, the tip of Stephanie's tongue protruded from the corner of her mouth in playful anticipation. Gingerly, her fingertips came into contact with the bottom of that flap, her nails resting on the carpeted floor. One quick motion, and then that flap would soon be replaced with her adorable little treasure at her fingertips.

 

The flap went up, and Stephanie's smile went down.

 

There was nothing there.

 

Confused and more than a bit annoyed, her other hand shot forward and underneath the chair. She began to cautiously feel around the star-like protrusions that made up the recliner's base, on the off chance that Will was lying prone behind one of them, and as such out of her sight. Her searching digits found nothing, however, and Stephanie's cheeks puffed in frustration as she withdrew her hand and rose to her feet.

 

They puffed further as her eyes found the clock. She only had 5 minutes left if she wanted to win, but...

 

Giving her right heel a sharp tap against the floor, she promptly pivoted and began to move. Her eyes busily scanned the floor around her, their purpose both predatory and cautious in nature. Stephanie began to mentally retrace her steps even as she walked into the kitchen, checking off each potential hiding spot she had searched in her combing of the house. She knew that she hadn't missed one, of course - she had this down to a science at this point. But where was Will? Had she overlooked him at some point?

 

She shook her head. That couldn't be it.

 

"No luck yet, sweetie?" a melodious voice asked as Stephanie padded into the kitchen, her eyes still at work down on the floor, checking every nook and cranny they came across. Pausing for a moment in her increasingly futile search, Stephanie looked up to her mother as she turned to face her from her position at the counter. Her hair was tied into a tight bun, as it often was when she cooking or baking, and Stephanie lazily noted the pocketed apron she wore over her shirt and jeans, as well as the mixer in her hand.

 

"No," Stephanie pouted, biting her lower lip.

 

"Looks like he finally got you," her mother stated with a grin.

 

"Not yet!" Stephanie retorted, continuing to wrack her brain. What was she missing? Where could he be? She had never lost at this before...

 

"Hm. Well, I think time's on his side right now," the parent informed, her grin growing wider.

 

"I'll find him!" Stephanie stated simply as she moved through the kitchen and into the hallway.

 

"Mmmhmm," her mother sounded from behind her. "And I'll be right here when you need me to get him for you. Hope you're ready for cartoons, sweetie," she finished with an eager giggle, and soon the whir of the mixer could be heard.

 

Stephanie wasn't going to lose. She couldn't. Turning into her room from the hallway, her eyes immediately began to scan around the floor once again. Her nightstand, the legs of her bed, under her chest of drawers...Will liked hiding under all of them. He liked hiding under some other things, too. She knew all of his favorite spots, and she knew she had checked all of them. Knew she didn't have time to double check all of them.

 

She couldn't help but ball her fists up and frown. She wasn't supposed to lose at this. She wasn't.

 

Grunting, she started to slowly march from her room, eyes still going. Maybe she really had lost for once. Her mom certainly seemed to think so...even sounded happy about it! Very happy! Stephanie knew that her Mommy typically rooted for Will just because she won so much, but...

 

The whirring of the mixer suddenly cut out, and Stephanie found herself perking up, even if just a little. Her Mommy always let her lick the batter from the beaters when she baked a cake, and-

 

Stephanie paused midstride, and the smile began to return to her face. Mommy was baking, wasn't she?

 

And since when did she wear an apron when doing so? And with how happy and assured of her daughter's oncoming loss she had seemed...

 

Stephanie began to walk once again, quickening her pace. She really didn't have long. Entering the kitchen, she immediately found her mom pouring the mixture into a pan.

 

"Mommy," she started, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice and making an effort to suppress her smile, "can I lick the beater?" She made sure to put some extra sweetness into the request.

 

"Sure, sweetie," her mother answered, her voice still peppered with that same perkiness from a moment before. "Give up, then?"

 

Stephanie didn't answer as she moved in next to her mother, her eyes focused on the twin beaters and the treat they offered. Only for a moment though. As she reached a hand toward the mixer, she shifted her gaze to the right, to her mother's apron. More precisely, to the large, open pocket that adorned its front.

 

Her mother didn't have time to react as the hand that had been moving toward the mixer suddenly changed course, deftly slipping into the opening of the apron's pocket. Stephanie could feel her mother shudder and freeze, and couldn't resist looking up at her face. Her pretty eyes were wide, and her mouth was somewhat agape. Stephanie held that gaze, her lips pursed and straight.

 

Until she felt a familiar little form at her fingertips, a form that was resting at the bottom of the pocket, that began to squirm as her fingers wrapped around it.

 

Then she gave her mother the widest smile she could manage, eliciting the largest sigh she had ever heard as the older woman's chest heaved above her.

 

"Told ya I'd find'im!" Stephanie declared happily, turning her attention to the little boy currently trapped in her fingers as she removed him from the apron's pocket. Slowly removing her fingers from him, making sure to keep her palm level and steady, she she eagerly took in his mop of dark hair, his frustrated little face. A form even smaller than Daddy's. Even more fragile and in need of her.

 

William. Her precious little brother. The wonderful little treasure she would do just about anything for.

 

"I win again!" she informed him confidently, still showing off her teeth. A pouting look took over the little boy's face, and Stephanie had to giggle.

 

"Sorry, honey," their mother apologized from above them. "I thought we could get her this time."

 

"Nope!" Stephanie nearly sang. "And that means soccer!"

 

"You couldn't let him watch his cartoons, Stephanie?" the mother asked, tone pitying. Sure she could, Stephanie thought. But...

 

"Nope!" she replied again, pivoting and beginning to slowly walk away from her parent, making sure to keep Will nice and comfortable in her palm. "I win and that means I get the TV! That's the rules!"

 

"So what about the batter?" her mother asked, though Stephanie figured she already knew the answer.

 

"Don't care!" she informed before exiting into the living room, still looking down at her little sibling as it sat right where he should be, where he was safest. "Got what I want!"

 

"I dun wanna watch soccer..." Will told her as she came to the couch and turned to hop on. "It's boring!"

 

Stephanie tilted her head, pursed her lips. Kept smiling.

 

"Nuh-uh!," she answered, reaching for the remote and switching to ESPN. "Soccer's so fun, Will! You just need to give it a chance!"

 

"And besides," she continued slyly, "doesn't matter how boring you think it is. It's what we're watching.

 

The little boy blew her a raspberry from her hand, and Stephanie had to giggle. She brought the index finger of her free hand up to his little form, and promptly pressed it into his tummy as she laid down, lightly tickling the small child with the soft battering ram of her fingertip. He began to shake with laughter, eliciting an adoring coo from Stephanie. He really was so cute. And she'd turn to cartoons for him eventually, just as she always did. Even if he liked to forget about that part.

 

Bringing her occupied hand over to her own tummy, Stephanie gave it a tender tilt to allow her sibling to roll off her hand and onto the fabric of her pink shirt. He promptly resumed his prone position again, earning another giggle that shook him up and down with her belly. For now, though, they'd watch soccer.

 

"Stephie?" his little voice soon called out, after he had gotten settled comfortably onto her stomach. It was soft and quiet, and Stephanie had only just heard it over the TV.

 

"Hm?"

 

"Why do I always gotta lose when we play hide n' seek?"

 

Stephanie turned her head, saw him sitting Indian-style on his resting place now. His little face looked rather sad.

 

That wasn't gonna do.

 

"Well," she started, bringing a hand over to him again. Slowly, she started to softly stroke his his back. She knew he liked that. "It's 'cause you're the little brother..."

 

"But why's that mean I gotta lose?"

 

"Lemme finish!" she exclaimed, shifting her stroking finger into a pincer grip that ended with her little brother being lifted between her thumb and forefinger. She brought him over to her face, dangling him just a few inches above it as she gave him the softest smile she could manage. "You're the little brother, and I'm the big sister. And being big sister means there's some things I just do."

 

Still smiling as he looked at her in confusion, she adjusted her grip on the little boy to support him with her other fingers before bringing him down closer to her face, eventually hugging his little body into her cheek in an affectionate hug. She giggled again as she felt his little nose return her gesture with a nuzzle, and soon lifted him away to look at him once again.

 

"And one of those things, little Will," she continued with soft adoration, "is that I'll always find you."

 

********

 

Stephanie groaned as the towering form of her warden appeared above her, eyes fixated on her as she lie in her bed. One look at that face high in the sky told her what her day was about to be like. Those pitying brown eyes, that sad frown....She'd be getting whatever her session was for this week, and then the woman would insist on another of those talks.

 

The fingers of her right hand continued to press and knead into the small form held within their grip, in the same way they had been compulsively doing all morning. She didn't like those talks. They were just such a huge waste of time...nothing could come from talking about nothing. Of trying to assign things to such pointless little creatures.

 

No, Stephanie thought, as Claire began to crouch down before her cell, the little form occupying the attention of her active digits suddenly becoming enclosed in their grip, there was no need for any of that. It was why she greatly preferred the presence of the little training doll that had occupied her attentions to that of any actual Beta. There was no pressure, there. No demands. No one felt the need to assign things to a little doll, and that was as it should be. Things were better, without doing that.

 

Better, without assigning them thoughts.

 

Better, without assigning them feelings.

There was nothing to worry about, then. Nothing to regret.

 

 

 Ugh.

 

Stephanie didn't bother to hide her sneer as she watched the black pupils above her contract, as she mentally traced a line from those black-in-brown pools to the object which had their attention.

 

She wished she could manage an even greater signal of her contempt as Claire's frown broke away into a pleased smile as the larger woman's eyes found what they were looking for.

 

"Spending more time with the training doll, hm?" the crouching Omega questioned, her voice low and soft. Touched with a certain...warmth as she focused upon the little figure in Stephanie's hands. "You do spend a lot of time with it, actually." Stephanie promptly jerked her head to the right, freeing her from the annoyance of taking in that pleased face.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered stubbornly as she allowed the doll to vanish from sight within her fist. An amused chuckle sounded from above.

 

"It does stream usage and feedback data to our servers, remember?" Claire reminded her, earning a grunt from Stephanie as she faced upward again. "Why even try to deny it, though?"

 

"Because it doesn't matter," Stephanie grumbled, allowing her sneer to return. It didn't. It was just...an amusement, nothing more...she'd do what she wanted to with it...

 

"Hm," Claire sounded with a thoughtful expression, "for something that 'doesn't matter', you sure take good care of it, though." Another warm smile followed as Stephanie grimaced, and the Omega soon had an elbow resting on the rim of her enclosure, her hand gripping a phone that easily doubled Stephanie in height. She could hear Claire's thumb tapping and sliding away on the other side of the oversized device, and watched as her gaze shifted to the screen in a studious manner. "Beyond good, actually," she noted. "Three and a half weeks, and not a single errant action. Not a single fatal press, nor one that would injure. Not even an uncomfortable press, and I promise you that those sensors inside it can tell. It's something else, really."

 

"Hell, take a look for yourself."

 

A flip of a wrist, and Stephanie's irritated visage momentarily crumpled as she took in the hovering screen. A large stick figure - one like you might find on the door of a restroom - took up most of the vertical space, it's green hue grossly incandescent. against the black background.

 

"See? Not a speck of yellow, orange, or red. That little guy is the definition of immaculate."

 

Stephanie wasn't quite sure why she did what she did. Not at first, anyway. She would later attribute it to spite. But with almost primal instinct, her fist tightened. Sharply. Immensely.

 

Crushingly.

 

For a moment, that stick figure shifted from its pleasant green to a deep haunting red. Despite herself, a light gasp escaped Stephanie's lips, and her grip loosened just as quickly as it had tightened to allow the soft doll to lay comfortably within it once more. Slowly, that horrifying red began to fade into that comforting green once more as the application integrated the new data. That green returned, but...Stephanie could now make out several small specks of red buried within.

 

Claire turned the screen back toward herself, studied it again. Stephanie felt....uncomfortable, as the warden looked at the results of her action and a disappointed frown graced her soft features, accompanied by a matching sigh.

 

"It really was something else," she remarked sadly, before Stephanie watched the phone lower and then disappear into the pocket of the Omega's tight jeans. "You've really been taking incredible care of it, especially compared to your friends. Naomi had a few...accidents, the first week, and a few Uncomfortables for a few days after, but she's been wonderful since. Marion..."

 

The frown transformed into an almost bitter smirk.

 

"Well, she stays the course, I suppose," Claire continued with a certain amusement. "But you've been perfect from day one. Not many people can manage that, especially with what I've seen you do with it."

 

Stephanie grunted again, coming back to her senses. What she had been doing was...was nothing special. She had just felt like being soft with it. Then she hadn't. Nothing else.

 

"I mean that, by the way," Claire stated seriously. "You may not have seen me watching, but I did see you. The way you snaked it between your fingers, how you could give it a lil' toss up and pluck it right out of the air...without even triggering a yellow. That's not something just anyone can do so easily, and definitely not without practice."

 

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably in her bed at that last part, but remained silent. A decision she felt was the right one as Claire reached a hand over the rim, the appendage balled into a fist. Though as it approached, the index finger began to slowly unfurl, and soon Stephanie had a new guest as the underside of the Alpha-sized digit came to rest along the side of her bed. It was easily a match for its length.

 

"Can I see it?" Claire suddenly asked with a friendly smile. Stephanie shifted her eyes over to the waiting digit, then back to Claire's face as the larger woman patiently waited for her answer.

 

"...Whatever," came Stephanie's eventual answer, and she slowly brought the hand containing the little doll over to the Omega's fingertip. She hesitated as her hand hovered above it, momentarily surprising herself over her own apparently reluctance at giving up her little compan-

 

Sher shook her head.

 

Her little doll, but soon enough she relinquished her hold, allowing it to fall softly onto the waiting pad. Stephanie's eyes widened just a bit as she took in the form of the beige device as it lay on the tanned pad. She couldn't deny a sense of small wonder as it seemed to almost disappear into that swirling sea of fingerprint upon which it now rested.

 

She had never...never seen, for real, just how pitifully small a Beta was compared to an Omega. A part of her had known, sort of, but seeing how utterly...utterly insignificant the Beta-sized doll was as it rested on Claire's upturned finger...really seeing it...

 

Stephanie grit her teeth in annoyance as the doll was replaced in her mind by the form of that little Beta she and the others had run into, as she imagined him...it being taken into the swirling fingerprint like...like the pathetic thing that it was. A light tremble took her as that now familiar thought once more took hold of her mind.

 

How does she call it her brother?

 

"I can't tell you how much I used to hate these little things," Claire suddenly stated with a certain amusement. Stephanie jerked her head upward at that, and was greeted with an amused little grin on the Omega's face as her eyes plainly focused on the little thing on her finger. "When I was little, all I wanted to do, more than anything, was to be able to touch a Beta, to be able to pick one up. Then I got a big brother, and all I wanted was to be able to touch and pick him up, to hold him and help him."

 

There it was again, Stephanie thought with some contempt. That stupid word.

 

"And the only thing standing in the way of that," the Omega continued, her voice taking on cloak of playful annoyance, "was that little doll. Do you know how we get cleared, Stephanie? What we have to do, to be able to finally, truly interact with a Beta?"

 

Stephanie shook her head. She didn't know, she didn't care. She didn't want to be having another of these talks. Unknowing, and perhaps uncaring, of her thoughts on the matter of this conversation, Claire reacted to her response within seconds. The thumb of her nearby hand unfurled and shifted, began to lower toward it's protruding companion. Stephanie watched with a certain fascination as she realized what the pad of that thumb would soon be lowering onto, and just a few seconds later she played host an audible gulp as the pads of the two digits collided, trapping her little doll between them. Smothering it. Crushing it.

 

Obliterating it.

 

"This. We do this, Stephanie," Claire explained. "For eight straight hours, from the time we got to class til the time we left, we had to keep one of these little things just like this. Right between our fingertips, as it would transmit our pressure data to the Instructor's phone. There was no room for mistakes, Stephanie. Not one. Not a single. Little. One. Either we kept our little buddy nice and green while we went through the schoolday, or we failed and had to wait two more weeks to try again. We couldn't even cause a single yellow blip. It was all or nothing."

 

"And I was...not good at it, to put it lightly," she continued with a chuckle. "I tended to get more and more eager, with each passing hour. And as I got more eager, I also got more careless. So for nine months straight, after just a few hours, my assigned doll would just...disappear, really, between my fingers. And I felt it, every time. Cried every time, too. I hated it. I just wanted to be able to hold my brother, and these little dolls just didn't seem to want to let that happen. So for nine months I had to watch my friends get cleared, one after another. Watched them leave me behind, until I was the only one left who still hadn't passed. Watched them be the first ones to help my brother, instead of me. It was nine months of misery to me. Nine straight months of one failure after another."

 

Claire's face had momentarily shifted to one of somberness as she continued to look down at her punched fingers. There was silence for a moment, and Stephanie was thankful for it. Unfortunately, it didn't last.

 

"One night, though," Claire continued, her ever-powerful voice lowering to a near whisper- her lips curling into another warm smile, "one night, before the last test I would take...I got a helping hand. The best help I could have gotten. The stupidest, too, but still the best. From the person that mattered the most to me. So the next day, when I took the test..."

 

"Well, I think you can guess how it went," her warden finished, positively beaming as movement to her side caught Stephanie's attention. The thumb was lifting from its position, and Stephanie's eyes slowly widened as it began to pull away, her mouth began to hang agape.

 

Bullshit.

 

The doll remained there, on that finger, seemingly undisturbed. Seemingly undamaged. That was...It had to be a trick, Stephanie though. She couldn't...there was no way she could do that. No. Fucking. Way.

 

"Go ahead. You can take it back," Claire stated in that same frustratingly soft tone. God, she was tired of that. Still, though, she begrudgingly reached a hand out and gingerly - a little too gingerly, she thought, too late for it to matter - retrieved her little doll. Pulling the little thing in close to her stomach, Stephanie once more peeked up at Claire, still wearing that same warm smile. The hand remained where it was, near her bed.

 

"So what's all that crap got to do with me?" Stephanie deadpanned. She wanted to make sure that woman understood just how much of their time she was wasting with these stupid talks.

 

"Oh, not much, I guess," Claire coyly responded, "I just couldn't help but think about how well you probably would have done with that test. I bet you would have passed on your first try, actually, with how well you handle that little doll."

 

"Especially," she continued, and Stephanie couldn't help but take immediate note of how low the massive woman's voice suddenly was, "given how long it's been for you, since you last really held a Beta. Like you've been doing with the doll, I mean. Like you used to."

 

Stephanie shuddered, grit her teeth once again in a wave of anger. Why couldn't this woman just stop? Why couldn't she understand? Why couldn't she just shut up?

 

And to that end, Stephanie very nearly told her to do so. Nearly. Before Claire continued on.

 

"And because," the Omega followed up, "I think we shared a similar feeling, once. That mixture of pride, of contentment, of joy, as we held our small brothers in our hands. As we kept them warm and safe, all on our own for the very first time. Would you agree with that, Stephanie?"

 

Stephanie clicked her tongue, a rising fear growing in her gut of cracking her teeth as they continued to grit.

 

No, I fucking don't, she angrily thought, even as she hugged the hand holding her little doll into her stomach. She didn't. There was nothing to feel about those stupid little things...nothing.

 

"Can we," Stephanie started with what was practically a growl, "can we just get the fucking session over with?" She was tired of this. She always tried to make these stupid little connections.

 

Claire's eyes closed for a moment, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. Within a few seconds, though, those eyes were open again, staring down at her.

 

"I suppose we can get started down that road for today," she remarked with some resignation, and the hand that had been resting nearby sprang to life. "I am somewhat short on time." Stephanie soon found herself being scooped off of her bed, much in the same fashion in which she had retrieved her doll.

 

Her doll.

 

Stephanie considered dropping it to her bed, leaving it behind. But she found herself stricken by some unnatural hesitation, and instead she held it even more securely within her fist and Claire's large fingers curled around her body. Their firm grip made any movement, and therefore any prospect of leaving the doll behind, impossible. So it seemed as if she would have a companion for today, she thought, as Claire rose to her feet.

 

"Of course," Claire started again as she turned to leave her room, as she always did, "we're not quite done. I do still have a bit more I want to talk to you about." Stephanie groaned. Why couldn't she just escape from this constant grilling? "Well, need to talk to you about, is more like it. Because how that goes, little Stephanie, is going to determine our session for today."

 

" 'cause I have a little deal of sorts in mind for this week, Stephanie," her warden stated simply, catching Stephanie somewhat off guard as those brown eyes cast themselves softly upon her, "and I truly hope you take advantage of it."

 

 Stephanie sat in slack-jawed awe as her host pulled open the metallic door in front of them, bathing her in the bright white light that shone inside the office building-sized contraption. More than the light, though, was the wave of cold that accompanied it. Stephanie's arms hugged the lock of black, silky ropes she had secured herself with for warmth (and her hand held her little companion just a little more snugly) as her hostess reached an arm - the very arm whose shoulder she was currently perched upon - into the cold, splendidly lit interior of the refrigerator.

 

And really, Stephanie couldn't help but stare as she did.

 

She had never seen so much food somewhere. Maybe at a grocery store, but she was certain the contents of this fridge could give any store she had ever seen a run for its money. Plastic containers - small by the standards of an Omega, perhaps, and seemingly just a bit taller than Stephanie herself - filled the shelves, and Stephanie's eyes darted to each she could find and surveyed its contents through the clear plastic. Scores of plucked grapes, peeled bananas, diced pineapples and sliced oranges filled the top shelves. Below them, she could make out identical containers loaded with that seemed to be vegetables - broccoli, carrots, and peas at the immediate front of the shelf. And below those...

 

Meat, and God knows how much of it. That was what struck Stephanie more than anything else stored in the thing. She paid attention in class, she wasn't stupid. The Omegas has been at the forefront of the sciences since their emergence, contributing hugely to medical and agricultural advancements. The latter was the relevant case here, of course. "Hunger" had functionally ceased to exist for decades now, thanks entirely to the rate at which the Omegas were able to grow fruits and vegetables. Not just normal fruits and veggies, either - what they produced had a startlingly long shelf life, not even requiring a freezer to be kept for long periods.

 

But that was produce, not livestock. She had never heard anything about them being able to raise the amount of livestock the containers of meat below her would require, especially to sustain every Omega. How on Earth...

 

"It's synthesized," Claire casually stated from beside her as the reaching hand grasped its target - a cup of grapes, apparently, and began to withdraw. "The meat, right? That's what you're looking at? Completely synthesized." Stephanie simply continued to stare at it dumbly. Synthesized? She had never heard of anyone managing that...

 

"We sorta keep it to ourselves for now," Claire continued, still talking casually as if discussing something more akin to a recipe than a life-changing science. "Alphas and Betas can't really digest it too well, so we still have some improvements to make to the process. No one would really want it yet, anyway. I've had real meat before, this stuff doesn't really compare. We have to slather it with sauces to get anything really good out of it, and Daddy's assured me that's no way to eat steak. Want anything, by the way? Kinda have plenty, if you haven't noticed."

 

"N-No," Stephanie blurted out, still thrown for a loop. If they could synthesize food, what else...

 

Stephanie's thoughts were interrupted as her perch quickly rose into the air, causing her to re-tighten her now relaxed grip as the cotton-covered shoulder rose and then fell. A shrug, Stephanie realized.

 

"Suit yourself," Claire remarked as her arm fully withdrew from the refrigerator, the other closing the door behind its retreating partner. That free hand then reached to the fridge's side, grabbing the drinking glass the giant woman had quickly retrieved from a nearby cabinet while making her way through the kitchen. Stephanie followed the glass from the marble counter top where it had rested, to the inlaid water dispenser in the fridge's door. A press of the glass to the tab that hung within the dispenser, and a torrent of water began to fall and crash into provided reservoir. Stephanie's eyes lingered there for a moment, before wandering once more.

 

It was then that she got her first good look at the door Claire had previously held open, having previously gotten only the most cursory of glances due to both the angle of the giantess's approach and the speed at which the door had opened. It was then that she noticed how...full that metallic surface was, how positively littered it was with various papers held in place by fruit-themed magnets.

 

And the first thing her eyes found, held in place by a faded slice of watermelon, was a photograph. A bit odd, in this day and age, but Stephanie supposed some people liked to keep solid copies of them. Still, what drew her attention was the subject. Standing proudly on an almost familiar tanned surface, was...well, Stephanie found herself blushing somewhat at the label she applied, a pretty cute guy. Garbed in a black soccer uniform, his black hair cut short and fierce blue eyes focused on the camera, he practically beamed at it with a toothy smile that radiated confidence. Stephanie figured he must have been around her age, at least when the photo was taken. As with the surface he stood on, though, there was something familiar there, and Stephanie squinted as she tried to call precisely what that was. She had seen him somewhere before, she knew that, but where?

 

Even as she asked herself that, though, Stephanie's mouth began to go dry; her stomach began to tighten. She had seen him before, she just had to remember...

 

And as she concentrated, her eyes happened to notice a relatively small note scrawled at the bottom of the photograph, in the white below the picture itself. Written in what she assumed was a black sharpie marker. Gingerly, she bit at her lower lip. It had come to her, just as she had begun to read the scrawled little note. Why the guy looked so familiar. He should have.

 

Big brother before his last game! - Claire, 14

 

That was what the note read, and Stephanie began to softly knead at her doll. Of course the guy looked familiar.

 

She had held him in her hands, studied his little face.

 

Held it. Studied its.

 

That had been no pride in that face then, though. No fierceness in its eyes. That had disappeared after Naomi had had her needed...release. No, there had been none of that picture's strength or poise in the little thing that she had dangled by the arm. As she had jabbed at it with her finger in an attempt to halt its pitiful little cries, its begging.

 

No, none of that strength, confidence, or poise. Just...terror. Pain. Desperation.

 

Despair.

 

Just as there must have been with...

 

Stephanie swallowed, her eyes shifted back to the filling glass even as the Omega finished with it. The stream of water halted, and the now full glass was pulled in close to Claire's body. Then they were on the move again, the padding of Claire's bare feet echoing up from the tiles of the kitchen. The woman managed to remain surprisingly stable and level as she walked, to the point that Stephanie found her grip around the lock of hairs loosening again. It didn't take long for them to reach the living room, for Claire to take her usual seat on the couch. That glass of water was set on the coffee table, and Stephanie expected the once-again free hand to come for her.

 

Instead, Stephanie traced its movement to the container of fruit Claire had retrieved earlier, watched it casually rip away the plastic covering and place that atop the table as well.

 

"Sure you don't want any?" Claire politely asked once more, still with that grating casualness.

 

"I said no," Stephanie spat with annoyance, and that same up-and-down movement was the Omega's response.

 

She watched with mild fascination as Claire brought that container upward, as she brought it to her lips. Her gripping hand began to tilt the fruit-filled plastic cavity, and Stephanie's slack-jawed expression returned as the grapes suddenly began to roll and tumble downward as the container closed in on a near 180 degree tilt. The expression stayed as she watched them tumble free of their plastic confines, past the plush, pink lips, and into the Omega's hungry maw. What had to be hundreds of the presumably tasty grapes were essentially a sip to the gigantic woman.

 

The container returned to its proper orientation within a couple of seconds, a decent chunk taken out of its contents from Claire's casual feast. The Omega's jaw moved up and down a few times, an action Stephanie couldn't help but feel was mostly for show. And then she swallowed, the audible action pulling the fruit into the cavernous stomach that awaited it.

 

"Well, you'll have to excuse my little snack, then," Claire said, pulling the container away and setting it next to her glass of water. "Haven't had a chance at a breakfast, yet." Stephanie rolled her eyes.

 

Just get this shit over with, she thought.

 

"I feel you should know," Claire started, even as she leaned back into the couch, catching Stephanie off guard even as the shoulder burying into the furniture provided her with a backrest of her own, "that I cleared Naomi to begin her community service. She'll start tomorrow, actually."

 

"I hope she takes advantage of it," the Omega added, and Stephanie was struck by the sincerity attached to that sentiment. Moreover...Stephanie found herself agreeing with her. She wanted Naomi to be able to do community service in lieu of the oncoming exams Claire had promised. Naomi wasn't the best, academically speaking. She stood a better chance of getting out of these punishments if she could distance herself from a test, if she could just...be herself.

 

"I think she will," Claire continued happily. "She's been eager to give something back since she started, eager to do something constructive for the Betas. I really do have high hopes for her."

 

"And, y'know, I have those hopes for you, too."

 

Stephanie grunted. Hell, she wanted to laugh. Hopes for what, precisely?

 

"I really would love to clear you for service as well, Stephanie. To give you that constant chance to makes things...easier, on yourself. To give something back." Stephanie had to snicker somewhat at that last part. A snicker that, if heard, went unacknowledged. "And the thing is, I'm tempted to clear you. I really am. Because I don't think you'd be a threat to any Betas around you if I did."

 

Stephanie blinked. That had been...unexpected, to say the least. Unexpected, but the idea itself was not unwelcome. She had spent more than enough time covered in her hostess's sweat at this point, a good chance to get out of that would be...

 

"The problem with that idea," the Omega informed her seriously, "from my perspective, is this: I don't think you'd be a danger to any Betas while performing your service. That's good. The problem itself, Stephanie, comes down to one of reason, of purpose. And the only reason I believe you would behave, is that you wouldn't want to make things worse for yourself. The only purpose behind your work would be for yourself. Do you feel that's an accurate assessment on my part? Is it something you would agree with?"

 

"Yes," Stephanie responded. No shit, she thought. Of course she wouldn't act out if cleared for service, there would be far too much riding on her conduct to even think of doing that. If Naomi felt she really had to work for the stupid Betas, then that was her business. But she wouldn't be following suit.

 

"And that's precisely why I won't be clearing you," Claire said following a deep sigh, causing Stephanie to sneer. "That's not what the service is about, and it's not an outlook we want to reward. I'm hoping this will only be a...delay, though, and not how things are going to be for the rest of the year with us. I really am."

 

"So in the interests of working toward that goal, I'm offering you something...special, this week," Claire stated, piquing Stephanie's interests again. She had mentioned something about a deal, before they had left the young woman's room. Was she finally getting to it?

 

Claire's open palm suddenly greeted her as it rose from beneath the larger woman's chest, and the fingers tenderly grasped her. Stephanie allowed her hug of the soft lock of hair to come to an end as she was pulled away from her seat and brought before Claire's tender face.

 

"A little test, Stephanie," Claire informed her, "Just a little one question, open-ended test. No writing required. Just answer it seriously, and you pass."

 

"So what about this is 'special', then?" Stephanie asked with a tilt of her head.

 

"I'm glad you asked," her warden responded with a smile. "What's special about this, is that I'm doing a little...two-for-one special, Stephanie, just for you. That is, answer my question in a satisfactory manner, and I count it as two tests. And passing two tests means that we don't do a session for this week. So how about it? Care to give it a shot?"

 

"Yes," came Stephanie's eager, elated response. There was no reason not to try, she'd be a fool to turn this chance down. She had done her reading, committed it to memory. Tests were easy for her, always had been. Nothing Claire could ask her would pose a problem, she was confident about that.

 

"Very well," Claire said, her smile fading into a straight line once again. "Just keep in mind, then, that I expect a serious answer. We won't be done until you give me something. Is that understood?"

 

Stephanie gave her a nod, a smirk on her face. What a useless rule. She'd have this, easy.

 

"Good," Claire stated, as the hand currently grasping Stephanie began to rise until the smaller girl found herself level with the brown eyes of her warden-turned-proctor, "so here we go, then."

 

"What I want to know," she continued, her voice becoming low and serious, and Stephanie heard a deep breath emanating from a few feet below her, "what I want you to tell me..."

 

An audible swallow from below, now.

 

"Tell me, Stephanie, one thing you and your brother liked to do together."

 

"We-"

The word hung but for a split second on the tip of Stephanie's tongue. Tantalizingly and embarrassingly, powerfully and threateningly as it pulled at that horrible thing that rested in her throat in a desperate attempt to wrest it from her depths. Her eyes widened as she realized what was happening, what she was about to do. What she was about to say.

What she was about to acknowledge.

Quickly - far too quickly, for her tastes - images passed through her mind, their presence spurred and emboldened by the malicious probe her omnipotent warden had sent into her with that devilish question.

Images of being a little girl again, of giddily yet carefully trouncing through her house with the most playful of smiles on her face. Her eyes would be searching, looking for the smallest of hints as she tracked down her treasure.

Images of resting on her knees, in front and to the sides of so very many piece of furniture. Of kneeling forward, her hands propping her torso up as her eyes would once more playfully probe for their quarry.

Images of times where no such visual confirmation was needed, times that she simply knew where to send her all-encompassing hand. Times where her fingers would begin to wrap around the bottom of a table leg, or work their way underneath a furniture flap, or curl over the top of some small horizontal obstruction.

More images, and now they were not alone, not anymore and not by a longshot. A feeling accompanied them - a feeling both remembered and currently present. Images and feelings of those same fingers surrounding and engulfing a tiny, fragile form. Of attaining the most precious little treasure she would ever know, of feeling his little body wiggle within the warm flesh of her hand. Even now, her hand tightened comfortable around the familiar little presence that rested in that hand. Pictures and feelings remained, of being so happy, so satisfied at finding and catching, at warming and comforting her...her little...her little b-

Stephanie's mouth snapped shut, with force so great that she should have counted herself lucky that her tongue had not be caught by her clenching teeth. Still, though, those pearly whites had not gone without a sacrifice. The hooks that single word had left were cut through, leaving it to wither and die in the open air, cut away from all that would give it meaning.

All that remained was what it left behind, and Stephanie's throat quickly went to work on that awful lump that had formed. Like a brick of sticky molasses, it hung where it had been when its guide had been cut off. With a hard, audible, devastating swallow, she sent it back from whence it came, freeing herself once more of what had bubbled up with it.

"What was that?" Claire asked gently, and Stephanie momentarily damned the Omega's sharp ears. Her warden looked at her, still with that soft expression, lips pursed thinly as Stephanie continued to look forward from her position cupped in the young woman's palm and into her eyes.

"Nothing," she murmured through her clenched teeth, making no effort to hide her contempt. "I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you honestly sure?"

"Yes. Because there's nothing to say. Give me a different question," Stephanie stated, her demand accompanied by a minor crack in her voice. "A real one." A mellow grunt sounded from Claire's throat.

"That is a real question, Stephanie," she answered calmly, "and I'm not giving you a different one."

"Then," Stephanie began, an exasperated pause following, "I'm not going to answer it. I can't." Another grunt was the Omega's first response.

 

"Stephanie, please," Claire said, her voice sounding almost pleading to Stephanie's ears, "I don't even want details. Just a single sentence, just a few little words that tell me something you two liked to do together, that's all I want. You don't have to say a single little word beyond that, not if you don't want to."

"No," Stephanie responded with a cold croak.

"Stephanie it's a few little words to get rid of an entire session," Claire stated with some concern. "Surely that's worth it to you? Why would you not take that offer?"

"Because," Stephanie began, a growing amount of resentment beginning to overtake her as her voice wavered, "because you're trying to trick me. To make me admit something that isn't true, by answering a question I can't. So if you aren't going to give me a real question, just start the stupid session."

The two looked into each others eyes in a stiff, heavy silence. Stephanie lightly sucked on her bottom lip, silently pleading with the giant to move on, to do...whatever it was she had planned for her. For her part, Claire's brown irises continued to look upon her tenderly, and Stephanie could make out just the barest hint of her teeth biting down onto her bottom lip in consideration.

Those lips suddenly parted, and the cup from earlier made a reappearance as Claire calmly brought her fruit cup to her lips again. That same tilt, and Stephanie watched once more as the juicy fruits tumbled about into Claire's hungry mouth, watched again as the cup was taken away and the Omega's throat tensed with the same swallowing motion.

"I'm not trying to trick you," Claire calmly informed. "I don't know know why you think you can't answer me, but I assure you that you can."

"I can't-"

"You can, because I can," her warden firmly informed her, eliciting a slight shake from her. "I can name a million things my brother and I did together, Stephanie, things we had so much fun doing." That lump was back, Stephanie realized, slowly creeping its way back out once more. An audible swallow sent it back where it belonged, even as she gave her doll a soft, idle stroke, barely even recognizing that she had done so. "And I refuse to believe you and your own brother never did anything, never had fun or enjoyed your time together. Not with what I've seen of your handling skills, not with what I've heard from your mother."

Stephanie sneered. Her mother should keep her thoughts to herself, should stop being a liar.

"So how 'bout this," Claire continued on casually, "to give you time to think about this, to...consider things, a bit more, I'll answer the question myself. To be fair, y'know? Since I really don't think it would be, to ask you a question I can't answer myself, I mean. So I'll go, and then you can go, okay? Or you can't. But I hope you will, Stephanie, because you can't keep doing this. Not to yourself, and not to your brother."

Another shake wracked Stephanie's body, another audible swallow sounded from her throat. What she was doing to herself, to her...

Her eyes fluttered open and shut a handful of times, clearing her thoughts. She wasn't doing anything to anyone. Claire didn't know what she was talking about, as usual. Worse, she was now going to have to suffer through the young woman's dishonest reminiscing. Suffer through her acting like she was better, over nothing.

"Let's see," the giantess muttered, her eyes looking upwards in thought. Her other hand once more raised up and toward her face, once more grasping an object within the embrace of her fingers. The fruit cup had been replaced, apparently, as instead it now held the glass of water she had poured for herself. It shared its motions with its predecessor, a light tilt pouring the contents of the glass through the Omega's lips. Thirsty gulps emanated from Claire's throat as she swallowed, and soon the rim of the glass parted from her now wet lips. The tip of her tongue slipped out and glides across thee lengths of soft flesh, collecting the leftover moisture for itself before retreating into its home once more.

As the hand withdrew, likely to take place the glass back onto a table, it came to a sudden halt just a few feet to Stephanie's side. Claire's eyes returned to her, momentarily, before shifting their gaze somewhat to the side. She was looking at the glass, Stephanie realized, her eyes focused eerily upon it. Below them, though, the Omega's lips curled upward as a grin formed on her face.

"That'll do," she muttered, and the glass lowered once more, clanking slightly as it was placed back upon the table. As the glass moved farther away from Claire, though, Stephanie was pulled closer. The hand that held her approached Claire's neck, shifting slightly to the side within a few feet to instead halt directly before the shoulder she had perched upon earlier. Taking the hint, Stephanie cautiously crawled from perch to perch, trading soft flesh for soft cotton. Carefully turning around and taking her seat once more, she again grabbed a lock of silky black hair to secure herself. All the while, she held her little companion safely against her stomach.

"I told you earlier, about how I couldn't really handle my big brother for quite a while," Claire began, her voice steeped in tender affection. "Until I passed my test, I mean. But there were still things we could do together, ways we could spend time."

"And the thing I loved the most during that period," she informed Stephanie with almost sickening cheer, "was swimming lessons." Stephanie watched from her renewed perch as the hand that had held her moved forward and grabbed that glass of water, bringing it before Claire's chest. Stephanie's gaze centered on the immense pool of cool, clear water that sat several feet below the rim of the glass. The water sat remarkably calmly within the container, disturbed by the movements but only slightly.

"A lil' bit after our parents got married, Daddy decided that he'd teach Corey how to swim," Claire happily stated. "We could have gotten a little pool for their little home, but Mom didn't really see the point when we could just...make one, y'know? So we'd just get a glass of water, and they'd just jump off Mom's finger right into it."

Stephanie continued to silently glare at the water below her, at least for a few seconds as Claire paused. Slowly, though, the fingers within which she held her doll unfurled, and her eyes shifted down to the little thing now occupying her open palm. An image visited her mind once more, though this one much more recent. The image of that tiny little thing, lost within Claire's fingerprint. Gulping, her gaze returned to the water, as her mind continued to work. As she pictured that same finger held just above water level, pictured two small little creatures - one smaller than the other - jump forth into what to them must have been a large, clear pond, their tiny bodies barely making a splash.

"And after they would jump in," Claire continued, "Mom would go sit down, and I'd get to look at them, watch them, talk to them as they swam around. Better, though, and what I loved the most...was that I got to hold them...sort of, anyway. It took a little practice, but I got good at holding the glass really still. So I'd just sit kinda like I am right now..."

At this, the Omega's other hand joined with its companion in encircling the glass, now holding it firmly between them.

"...and hold it just like this, and it just made me so happy. It was just so great. It wasn't holding them in my hand, but it was the next best thing. And I got to watch Daddy teach Corey how to swim, and we got to all just be together as he learned. It might seem really boring but it was so much fun to me back then, watching the two of them splash around. I loved it."

That...thing, was back. In her throat, as her imagination continued to work. She could see it, disgustingly clearly, two little figures splashing around in that clear water. More troubling was that they had...faces, now. Familiar ones. Precious ones, her mind called to her before being quieted. Two little forms, not in a glass held between two powerful hands, but in a sink located in a homey kitchen. Another swallow, harder even than the last, attempted to rid her throat of that lump.

"Corey learned really quick, though, and soon things got even better for me. When he started getting really good at swimming, Mom and Dad let me play a little, too. Not really involved stuff, no direct touching or anything, but..."

One of Claire's constricting hands tore away from the glass, her fingers curling into a fist. All but her index finger, anyway. The hand hovered just above the glass's rim, and Stephanie watched as the the finger dipped into the water below, sending the water rippling away from it in all directions.

"...I could do this, make little waves for him and Daddy. I had to keep some distance, but it really was fun watching them bob up and down with the ripples. Fun for them, too. Daddy, I think, was just glad we were getting to do enjoy something together. Corey was still really young though, so he enjoyed playing in the waves I would make. Of course, as I got better at that stuff..."

The finger lifted from the water, and heavy drops began to fall back. Stephanie was fully entranced by this point, studying the gleaming digit, so much so that she was startled somewhat by what came next. The finger curled slightly, then promptly exploded into the water. The impact created waves that outstripped the little ripple created by the initial calm placement of her finger.

"I got to make things a little bit more exciting. Only when Mom was around, though, just in case. But it was still fun," she finished with a small laugh.

Stephanie bit her lower lip, only partly paying attention as she watched the waves crash into the glass walls. More images, more familiarity. That finger replaced by an open palm - her own - slapping down into the full sink, creating waves of her own. That laugh was there, too, but different. Replaced, instead, with a playful giggle. A trembled worked its way down her body, even as that lump in her throat continued to grow, unabated by another gulp.

"Sometimes, I'd make little currents," Claire continued again, and now that finger began to move through the water, lightly churning it, "and sometimes, when Mom would take Dad somewhere for a moment to handle some business, I'd have a little bit more fun."

That glass lifted, and Stephanie watched it approach the Omega's mouth where it began to tilt once more. The water approached her open maw, threatening to crest the edge of the glass and spill over. Stephanie continued to watch, passively aware of her fingers curling protectively around her doll. Imagining the little thing floating in that pool, being dragged toward that awaiting abyss. The water never passed, though, and soon the glass returned to its position before Claire's chest, accompanied by an amused chuckle.

"Corey didn't really like that, even though I never let the water really come close to spilling over the edge. I guess he was just sort of scared that I'd mess up and it would, and that he'd go in with it even if he wasn't anywhere close to the edge. Only thing that ever really scared him, I think, thinking that I'd...do something, like that."

Stephanie's body tensed up and her lips parted. That lump was on the move.

"It's too bad that you didn't," Stephanie spat, with as much bitterness and anger as she had ever spoken with before. Her jaws immediately clenched shut once more, a raging tremble wracked her body. Her fingers tightened more around the little figure they entrapped.

Just in time for her to notice that one of Claire's hands was approaching her, and Stephanie grinned bitterly to herself. That had done it. There would be no more of this, she thought, as the Omega's fingers grabbed her, squeezed her snugly into confines of the hand. There would be no more of this talk, they'd be starting the session soon.

That's what she thought, at least.

Claire's fingers opened, and instead of being greeted by the enraged expression she had expected, she was gazing into soft, wide brown eyes. Parted lips. A face that looked down upon her in absolute tenderness.

"You don't mean that," Claire stated simply, barely above a whisper.

"I do."

"You don't."

"I do."

"You don't, Stephanie. I know you don't. I can tell."

Stephanie snicked.

"And how can you tell that?" she asked sardonically, her voice strained.

"Because your eyes are wet."

Bullshit.

Stephanie brought her free hand up to her eyes, eager to disprove such an obvious lie. One swipe of a finger, and-

She froze as the pad of her finger stroked the skin underneath her right eye. The damp skin.

"Fuck you," she muttered with quavering voice. Claire only shook her head.

"Stephanie, please...please, just answer my question," she pleaded, and with sincerity at that. "You can't keep...doing this. It's not good for you. It's not healthy. But even beyond that...even beyond that, it does such a disservice to your brother, and to his memory. Does he deserve this, Stephanie? Does he deserve it, when you act like he never existed? When you act like he meant nothing to you? When you act like he was never even a person?"

"Fuck you," she repeated with a snarl, voice still cracking.

"He doesn't, Stephanie," Claire continued onward, showing no reaction to the insult, her soft voice becoming strong and authoritative, "he doesn't, and you know it. He doesn't deserve to be insulted or denigrated, and he doesn't deserve to be forgotten. His memory...you shouldn't run from it, Stephanie, even if it pains you. He loved you, you know he did. And regardless of what you say now, you loved him. And that pain you feel...that regret, as awful as it is for you, what you're setting yourself up for...I think that'll so much worse. When you're older, and are thinking back on your life. When you realize what you've done, when you can't even remember his little face anymore. When you really can't. You'll regret it, Stephanie, I promise you. And it will make you miserable all over again, and that's one thing you won't ever be able to come back from. Because when that memory is gone, it's gone, and it won't be coming back."

The Omega's voice had begun to quaver, toward the end, though Stephanie barely registered it in her anger.

"And what the fuck would you know about that?" Stephanie called up, anger still on every word. Claire continued to look at her, the two of them sharing a moment of silence. A silence broken by a familiar clink of glass against glass. The drink being set down, Stephanie realized. But then she was rising, as Claire began to stand, but their eyes never broke contact.

"More than you'd think," Claire informed her solemnly, and they were on the move. "I'll end up being a little late, I suppose, but Daddy will understand."

Claire's fingers curled in again, gripping her snugly within her warm fist. Reflexively, Stephanie pulled her own closed fist in close to her stomach.

"Let's go take a look at my library."

 

"What button do I press?"

"The little movie camera, Mellie."

"I did...I pressed it, now the screen is black. Did I mess something up?"

"No, you just...your finger's over the lens. Take it off."

"Oh."

The darkness subsided, replaced by the face of a teenage girl. Lips pursed, amber eyes squinting, honey-tinged hair falling softly to her shoulders. A low groan of frustration escaped her throat.

"Claire it's looking at me now, what did I-"

"You must have pressed another button or something when you moved your finger," another girlish voice interrupted from out of sight. "Melody, this isn't hard!"

"I-It is to me," the honey-haired girl, Melody, answered with strained voice and small frown. "I don't use my phone to do all this...stuff, I just make calls with it!"

"Are you, like, a hundred or something, Mellie?" Claire questioned with exasperation. " 'cause that's what it sounds like. Everyone knows how to do this stuff. Little kids do this stuff."

"N-no, I just...I just never had a reason to poke around in the thing," Melody answered, her eyes lifting upward to look beyond the object of her frustrations.

"I should have called Jenna over here to do this...seriously, Mellie, we're gonna run late 'cause of you, and the game's gonna start and he won't be able to play and..."

"Ignore her, Melody," a new voice called amidst Claire's increasingly distraught words. Audible, but at a noticeably lower octave than that of the two girls, yet still deeper, masculine. Cheery, and with a hint of laughter. "Everything will be fine, just take your time. You'll get it soon, I know you will."

Melody's eyes looked down once again, her still-pursed lips curling upward even as the muscles of her cheeks tensed in an attempt to keep her smile to herself.

"Th-th-thanks, Corey," she said softly, almost too soft to be heard. The tanned skin which covered her straining cheeks began to redden with an all-too evident blush.

"Besides," Corey continued from somewhere nearby, "we're running late because a certain someone just had to change into her uniform even though her game isn't 'til tomorrow."

"It's our last soccer weekend. We needed to match for this..."

A boisterous laughter sounded off in response to the timidly delivered defense, a laughter which seemed to ease the tension in Melody's cheeks, allowing her smile to come through with just the barest hint of white enamel visible between her lips.

"Well it's still 'cause of you," Corey continued through fading chuckles. "So don't try to pin it on Melody when she's being nice enough to help us out."

At that, those already red cheeks practically began to glow.

"Well, I mean, she really should experiment with her phone more," Claire eventually replied after a moment of silence, shame evident in her voice as she addressed Corey. "You really should," she continued, seemingly changing her focus toward Melody, "they have a lot of neat things to experiment with. And you could learn to take some really cute pictures with you and Ashley."

"I'll try," Melody responded softly, lips pursing again. "So um, how do I get it to look at you again?"

"There's a button that looks like a camera with an arrow wrapping around it. Press that."

"Um," Melody sounded meekly, yet within a couple of seconds her nervous, reddened face disappeared from view. What replaced it was another teenage girl, adorned in a black soccer uniform and sitting idly on beige carpet with knees arched. Her left hand hovered within inches off the side of her head, thumb and forefinger seemingly pinched together. "There, I got it. We can do this now. I think."

The girl, Claire, smiled, and that hovering hand parted from its location near her head. Slowly, her arm stretched forward, the girl putting forth a clear effort to keep a measured and steady pace. Soon enough, the two pinched fingers had found a new spot to hover next to - though "above" was more like it. Slowly, carefully, the fingers lowered, until their tips were pressing into the flesh of the apparent soccer player's knee. Just as methodically they began to part, but only by the slightest amount, and then they lifted away, leaving something behind which most would easily miss without a closer look.

A small, black dot.

"Okay, get closer and use the bar on the left to zoom in on him. Make sure I'm in the frame before you do though, 'cause the picture won't come out right if you don't confirm that first."

So closer Melody got, until the top of her friend's knee rested in the foreground, and her distant, smiling face could be seen beyond it. That black dot had become something just a little more, some slight peachy tones mixing with the blacks. It became more yet again, each movement forward expanding it, giving it greater detail. It didn't take long for that dot to become a person, a young man, standing alone on bronze plain. Hands on his hips, and clearly amused as his blue eyes looked forward.

"Okay, I'm in as close as I can get, I think," Melody announced.

"Is it close enough? How's he look in it?"

"He looks...he looks g-good," Melody stuttered out, her voice pitching just a bit higher and eliciting a snicker from Claire and a curious, raised eyebrow from the small man on her knee.

"Can you get me a stand-alone picture of him real quick for me? The little segmented circle at the bottom."

"Okay....smile?" The eyebrow lowered, and a wide smile split Corey's face. "Got it."

"Thanks. Now, uh, see that triangle at the top?"

"Yeah?"

"Press that when he's ready again, then just zoom out back to where you were. The phone'll handle the focusing and stuff on its own. Then just hit the triangle again and it'll complete the new picture."

"Alright. Ready, Corey?"

"Go for it," Corey replied, that slightly faded smile easily returning to its full lustre.

"Starting....now."

The enlarged form of Corey Lindon began to dwindle, dropping further and further downward into the tanned landscape he stood on as more and more of his true stature began to reassert itself. He was that little black dot again soon enough, and towering behind him once more was the face of Claire Lindon, a beaming smile that was an easy match for her brother's on full display as her brown eyes cast themselves oh-so slightly downward and toward her occupied knee.

"And...done," Melody announced

"Cool," came a synchronous reply from the two siblings, eliciting a small giggle from Melody.

"Alright, you should probably go ahead and take him to the game," Claire stated, her downcast eyes shifting upward. "I need to changed again and get my uniform packed away for the trip, make sure I'm not forgetting anything."

"You two nervous at all?" Corey inquired.

"A little," Melody replied with some trepidation, "they have the Rollins twins. They're the ones with the Olympic team parents. They're really good...especially Jessica. She's scored in every game..."

"Until now," Corey added confidently. "She hasn't had to deal with a keeper as good as you are, I'm sure of it. I bet you can shut her out, no problem."

"Exactly," Claire added with matching confidence. "No need to be nervous. We'll crush'em. Just like Corey's about to do to Central's team."

The two siblings shared a snicker, joined in part by a pleased bleat from Melody.

"Though I think I need to be there for that to happen," Corey appended seriously, and Claire's distant, playful visage went stoic.

"Uh, yeah, you two should probably get going. I'll be right behind."

Two fingers appeared then, a thumb and forefinger, both moving toward the diminutive man. Both bigger, thicker, stronger than the two that had initially deposited him. They tilted, dropped down onto him from above, and pinched together with perfect, practiced precision and carefulness before lifting upward once again before being pulled back out of view.

"Good luck, big brother," Claire called out with a gentle smile.

"Thanks," Corey responded from somewhere within his fleshy vice, "but we both know I don't need it."

The two girls laughed in a certain shared elation at that confidence, even as Claire's eyes fell upon the glass eye currently watching her.

"Did you remember to stop recording?"

"Oh. Um..."

"He did need the luck, for the record," Claire monotonously informed Stephanie as the video came to an end, the Alpha's eyes staring unblinkingly forward from her position sitting cross-legged upon the varnished wooden desk. "Up 1-0 with 5 minutes left in regulation, and he rolls his ankle on a routine save. Backup comes in, allows two goals, and everything my brother and his team worked for over that season gets shot to shit due to dumb luck. It sucked."

An almost imperceptible wince struck Stephanie, briefly shaking her steady glare. She almost didn't register it as her thumb glided gently over the leather back of the small doll splayed within her cupped hand. They sat in silence, Claire apparently done for the moment, and Stephanie simply continued her dead stare at a monitor that would have been perfectly at home within a movie theater. Her only real desire, in that moment, being that the silence would continue even as her mind replayed that stupid little video.

"You said were were going to a library," she muttered in scratchy frustration, her own desires once more failing to halt the uncomfortable feelings bubbling within her. She had said they were going to a library. This place wasn't a library, there weren't any books or anything. It was just a study with spartan accommodations, and shelves meant more for decoration than for any real usage. The only things the furniture here held were this computer and those...those photos she had briefly spied before deciding that her gaze was best focused straight ahead. And it had been, until the looming tower behind her had opted to just randomly play some silly home movie.

"I said we were going to take a look at a library. My library. And that's what we're doing," Claire responded politely, and Stephanie dully noted the media player being closed, bringing the directory back into view. "See?" Claire asked with some amusement, stretching a hand above Stephanie's head with index finger protruding, touching gingerly upon the screen. In particular, under particular selection words.

Claire's Library

That's what it said, and Stephanie simply looked at the words in silence for a moment, crinkling her nose. Eventually she raised her head up, and found herself looking up and into Claire's eyes again; as well as looking at a crooked, widening grin.

"Library," the Omega stated with that same humored tone, grin now at full goofy.

"That's awful," Stephanie replied tonelessly, a response that was apparently of great amusement to her warden as the larger woman chuckled with some delight before removing her hand. Stephanie's head lowered, turning her attention back to her little doll.

She was still replaying that video in her head, she couldn't help it. It was just such a ludicrous thing, and she chose to attribute her inability to look away to that same ridiculousness. The way those two girls, mountains to that little thing, had treated that Beta. That kindness, that elation, that sense of equality and of...of it mattering. The way that Melody girl had been blushing and falling all over her words just because of some empty noises it had made, as if simply being spoken to by it had made her day. They way they had treated - and the way Claire apparently continued to treat - that little game between specks as some important, unmissable event. It was ludicrous. It was.

And rubbing her thumb gently into her doll's back, it wasn't even what had bothered her the most. Seeing Claire pick up the doll had been one thing, as had hearing her talk about picking up an actual Beta. Watching her and her friend handle something that pathetically small, knowing that it was an actual living creature between those massive pads, with only the most infinitesimal amount of pressure being needed to reduce it to a tiny red dot ...

That had been something else entirely.

Sucking on her bottom lip, Stephanie halted the gentle massage she had been passively providing. That hadn't...it hadn't been right. They way Claire and Melody handled that little thing, how casual they had been in doing so. As if it was just the easiest, most natural thing in the world, for two people that fucking big to be able to hold something that fucking small without the slightest pretense of harm. And the way that little Beta had acted through that whole thing, through being squeezed between fingertips it could practically live on...

It wasn't right.

That Beta had looked so...so confident, standing there on a knee that could hold a housing block. So comfortable as its life was decided between by the most miniscule of actions. Like it didn't realize at all just how much danger it was in from those same actions. The way it had spoken so nonchalantly while enveloped in the swirls of their fingers, the way it hadn't made even the slightest signal of fear or mistrust when Melody's fingers had pressed all around its body, mashing it between them. It wasn't scared at all of being hurt or....or worse. It just wasn't.

The hand she held her little doll in began to rise, until she held it just a few inches under her chin. She started blankly down upon it, lips now parted slightly as her mind went to work. Her fingers soon joined it in activity, curling gently inward upon her little partner until she had it safe and secure in her fist. It came to her, why that little thing had been so confident, so unafraid. Why it could be pinched between those digits and carry on as if nothing was going on, and if it was perfectly safe

It was because he was. In the hands of those two girls, he was. He was completely, perfectly safe. He wasn't afraid because there was no reason to be. He was confident and comfortable because there was every reason to be. And Stephanie could tell that. She could tell that he would always be right to feel that way, in their hands at the very least. She could tell that they would never, ever hurt him. That they would never allow themselves to do so. She could see it in their eyes, that always lingered just a bit on him, no matter where else they happened to be looking. She could see that there was never a time they weren't consciously aware of his presence. As four words began to bubble up inside her, Stephanie didn't even notice herself sniffle, so engrossed was she in processing that simple, blunt truth.

It wasn't right. It wasn't right. It wasn't right.

Those words kept cycling through her mind, even as four others continued on their journey to join them, to append themselves upon that one little phrase she kept repeating internally. It wasn't right, none of it. That trust, that confidence, that sheer certainty. It wasn't right that beings so ridiculously massive, so stupidly powerful, could be a part of any of that. They they could provide that to something so utterly, remarkably fragile. Beyond fragile.

Stephanie blinked, slowly and tiredly. Then those eyelids came back up, and they were not alone. A wet film coated her eyes, blurred her vision. She paid it no mind. Another sniffle, and it was treated the same as the first. Those three words cycled through again, but much like her eyelids, this time they dredged something up with them.

It wasn't right. And it wasn't fair.

"I've recorded a lot of videos like that one over the years," Claire stated with a tone that couldn't be described as anything less than serene. It was with a jolt that Stephanie received the press of a warm object into her back, causing her hunched posture to straighten in an instant as it gently stroked her; up and down, up and down. "Do you know why?"

Taking one deep breath then two smaller ones, Stephanie's lips pressed firmly together and her eyes narrowed. In a quick, violent motion, her free hand grasped the fabric of her shirt and pulled it upwards and aggressively scraped around her eyes to rid them of that lingering wetness.

"I don't fucking know," Stephanie responded, forcing a growl to hide her quavering tenor and hoping that detail went unnoticed as she let her shirt fall back into place and brought her occupied hand to her chest. "Because you like playing pretend?"

"And what do you think I'm pretending about, exactly?"

"That he matters," Stephanie forced out coldly, unfurling her fingers slightly to look at her doll once again. He couldn't matter.

"Hm," Claire sounded from above, and Stephanie easily picked up on the pleased nature of that little sound even as the stroking of her back came to a halt and that warm object departed. Cautiously, she craned her neck upward, looking beyond the folded arms below her chest and meeting Claire's eyes. A gentle smile was on her lips.

"What?" she questioned with a snarl.

"Nothing," her keeper replied, though that smile remained. "I want you to take a look at something else real quick."

Stephanie watched those arms unfold, and slowly followed as one stretched above her and over the desk. She grimaced as she saw its destination: One of those stupid photographs, digital by the looks of it, that sat slightly to the left of the expansive keyboard. That guy was there again, the same one that had been in the little video. The same one that had been in that photo displayed on the fridge, and thinking back to that, Stephanie realized where that one had come from. As with that one, he was again sitting on a bronzed surface, and again he had that cheery smile on his face. But this time he was not alone. Next to him sat another person, an older man, though not too old by current standards. The resemblance, though, was almost uncanny. Indeed, age the man down a bit, and they would probably pass for mirror images. The only real difference in their smiling visages then would be their eyes - bright blue compared to dark brown.

Stephanie gulped as she realized who the new man likely was. Her fingers once more curled gingerly around her tiny charge, even as Claire lightly tapped the surface of the picture. In an instant, those two figures began to dwindle as the perspective shifted away, and Stephanie almost lost them momentarily as the photo shifted to its new state. Almost, but not quite. She could still see them, just a little - two little dots between what to them were the hill-sized knuckles of a smiling Claire.

Claire was not alone, either. Standing next to her was another Omega, seemingly equal in height. Dark hair, too, though with her hair cut off just below her jawline. Smiling as well, and with cool blue eyes.

"Who do you think this is?" Claire asked, hovering her finger over the new Omega's face for just a moment before removing it. Stephanie grunted, but continued to take in her features. She was young, definitely, possibly only a few years older than Claire herself. There was definitely some resemblance, though.

"How should I know?," Stephanie snapped with some irritation. "Your cousin or something?" Did Omega's have cousins? Another chuckle from above, and Stephanie faced the Omega once more. Her face was...different. That smile was still there, but now there was something off about it. Combined with Claire's newly narrowed eyes, the Alpha almost wanted to call it bitter.

"A cousin, huh?" Claire responded, and Stephanie had no issues ascribing that particular label now, especially when it was followed by a small, matching laugh. "A cousin? No. That's my mother, Stephanie."

"Bull," Stephanie uttered, turning to face the woman in the picture. She was...no, she was far too young, and Stephanie stood by her initial age assessment. Lives had gotten longer and aging had become far more graceful, but not that graceful. The woman looked like she should be finishing up a Bachelor's degree, not...whatever the hell it was she did as an Omega. She certainly shouldn't be having a twenty year old daughter.

"She'll be turning 90 within the next few years," Claire said, and for her part Stephanie could only continue to stare at a picture that did nothing but call the Omega a liar. "Ninety years old, and she'll still look barely older than I am. And the thing is, shes always looked like that. She hasn't changed at all in the years since I was born, or from photos she took with Dad a few years before that. Or hell, even from the few photos she has from before that. The only thing that ever changes is her hair. Sometimes it's longer, sometimes it's shorter. And she'll just keep on looking like that, 'cause...well, that's just how it is for us."

"So I have another question for you, Stephanie," Claire breathed, suddenly speaking directly into her ear and causing the smaller girl to jump at the sudden close proximity even as she pulled her doll in close once more. Her eyes left the photo and drifted to the side, where Claire's lips hovered just a few feet away. "How long do you think we live?"

"I...I don't know," she responded sourly to an exasperated snicker, still catching her breath that sudden startling closeness.

"A better answer than you might think, actually," the Omega informed her, and Stephanie watched in mild relief as the Omega pulled away to resume her position of looming behind her. "No one really knows when they'll die, of course. But that has a...different meaning for us. Because we've done tests on ourselves, you see. As a species, we've had our biology studied by the brightest minds in the world. By a person who sees far more than anyone else is capable of. Trying to work out our lifespan. Trying to work out when people who seem to just stop aging actually die. And we found that answer. A long time ago, actually."

"Do you want to know the answer we found, Stephanie?" asked a voice that now chilled her to the bone with such an absolute coldness that seemed surreal coming from a woman who had, up until now, been drowning her in a tender, disgusting warmth. A coldness that Stephanie responded to by pulling her little companion into a warm embrace against her chest, covering that one gripping hand with the other. "Do you want to know when we die?"

She didn't. Every word Claire spoke now seemed layered with more and more ice, that coldness reinforced by a sense of foreboding that seemed to be intensifying by the second. A sense that something was wrong and unnatural, even beyond the gross kindness the larger woman directed at such a little nothing. Beyond the impossible safety she could provide to him. Slowly, she began to shake her head, but almost immediately she knew it was for naught. No sooner had she begun the labored motion than those icy words began to wash over her once more.

"The answer, Stephanie, is that we don't."

 

Her head just kept shaking. Left to right, left to right, over and over again. Slowly. Deliberately. It was not the only thing in motion, either. Her body itself had begun to shiver and shake at the Omega's pronouncement, or soon after it. After the air had returned to her lungs from the vacuum it had created in the room, at least.

Why did Claire keep doing this to her? Why was she so intent on showing her just how...just how not right everything about the Omega was? Why did she just keep piling it on, one thing after another? First it had been that horrible shrinking thing she had done on their first real day together, followed by her somehow managing to...to hear her, despite being trapped in that repugnant shoe and enveloped by the titan's pounding toes. And then that incessant needling had begun, weeks of her constant casual questions about...

Stephanie's hands, still crossed over chest, tightened a bit more. Both in the grip that held her friend, and in the pressure exerted upon that curled hand by the other. And then today, the Omega had chosen to escalate those attempts. Just one thing after another; from the unnatural way in which she had held the little form now clasped safely in Stephanie's fingers, to that awful little question...The way she had talked about playing with her tiny, helpless, insignificant brother, and the awful images that had spun through her head. The safety in that horrible video, that happiness. The statement that the Omegas apparently just stopped aging.

So many things that just weren't right, that weren't...natural. She had already been buried under an avalanche of things that just shouldn't be.

And now the monster above her was telling her they didn't even die? Things were supposed to die. Sometimes it happened sooner (too soon), sometimes it happened later (not late enough). But...but all things did it. It was natural (should be natural). Evading that rule shouldn't...couldn't be possible.

She wanted to look upward, to see the Omega's face and wipe this most recent farce from her mind. All she had to do was tilt her head, and she would see the mockery in the Omega's face, an enthused smirk, those lying eyes. One little look and this trembling would subside. Yet as much as she wanted - needed - to see those signs of a charade, it was fear that stopped her. Fear that she would look upward and see a face that did not lie. So she fought to keep her head down, thankful for the silence.

Until Claire calmly called her name, causing the shivering young woman's body to jerk from the sudden breaking of that wonderful peace. Her fight ended then and there with the arrival of what felt like a frigid hand upon her scalp, icy fingers curling against it, their invisible tips digging mercilessly into her forehead.

Digging, and pulling.

Stephanie continued trembling as the force of her curiosity pulled at her head, gradually tilting her eyes upward and toward the truth that waited for them, one inch at a time.

Oh, God.

Stephanie's eyes widened as the Omega's face finally came into view, all doubt extinguished. There was no mockery on that face, no enthusiasm shown by those straightened lips, no hint of a lie in the dark circles that looked down upon her. Something else, perhaps, but not a lie, and then something else even beyond that. Stephanie had no issue identifying the recognition she saw within them, that acknowledgment that the tiny being caught underneath them was now devoid of any disbelief.

Stephanie swallowed, and her head tilted downward, vision instead tunneling upon the wooden surface between her legs.

"Can you imagine it, Stephanie? Living forever?" a melancholic voice called down, and the exhausted Alpha girl gave her head the barest of shakes. "It's a weird thing. It's weird, knowing that I'll get to be there for so many things, but I sort of look forward to that a little bit. I'll get to see Betas be treated as they should be, all over the world, no matter how long it takes. That's really nice. And I'll get to be there when we really commit to space travel. It'll be cool, because eventually we'll - all of us - colonize Mars and that'll just be amazing. And I'll be there when we push further than that, until we're even moving beyond the solar system and that'll be more than amazing, and I don't even know what will come after that. But I'll be there for it, and I may even get to take part in it. It'll really be something else."

Then why don't you sound happy about it? was Stephanie's immediate thought. That stuff...most of it...did sound amazing. But despite the wonderment in the Omega's chosen words, there was little of that on her actual voice.

"The thing is, as great as all that sounds...it doesn't come without a price," Claire continued, "and it's not a very fair one, at least not to me. Sure, I'll get to see a lot of great things, some of it the likes of which people only dream about right now...but I'll lose out on things, too. Constantly, really. Because part of being able to always move forward is leaving behind people who can't, even if you don't want to. And I'm going to be leaving behind a lot of people who are very, very precious to me."

"I'll be able to see a lot of things, Stephanie, do a lot of things. But the thing I'll probably be doing the most is saying "goodbye" as I watch people I love pass away."

A short, almost inaudible whine wormed its way through Stephanie's lips at that, her shoulders slumping at the rising coarseness in that voice.

"I'll make new friends, I'm sure, and it will be fun to meet those people. And I'll still have Mom, Melody, and Jenna. Pretty much all of the other Omegas, really. But they're not...they won't be replacements for the people I'll lose on the way, the people I've made such wonderful moments with. Because once someone you love is gone, they're gone, aren't they? And then there's no more moments to be made."

An irritating wetness had formed in the corners of Stephanie's eyes there, and despite her already slouched posture she managed to slump forward just a bit more. Her clasped hands went into motion, wiping softly away at the affected skin, and soon settled against her thinned lips.

"But passing on doesn't mean they're fully gone," Claire said, her tenor now uneven. "I don't think so, anyway. You might not be able to make any new moments with them, but you can still treasure the moments you already made, right? You can still hold those memories close, and carry them with you. There's a problem, though. Eventually, little by little, those memories start to fade. That detail leaves them, is what Mom said. "Everything fades," she told me when we first talked about this, "except us." And that's true. It's awful, it's unfair, and it's true. And the thing that always gets me when I think about this, is how that already happens in normal lifetimes. How much worse does that fading become after another lifetime has passed? And then another, and another beyond that? When eventually, and inevitably, you lose count of the generations you've lived through, and suddenly that first lifetime is now just a drop in a bucket? In a tub? In a pool?"

"I hate that thought," the Omega announced with a voice that could no longer stop itself from cracking, and that loss of control sent a quake through Stephanie. The confident, self-assured, powerful young woman that had lorded over her for the last month was gone now, that image crumbling into something the Alpha found all too familiar as a distant tapping drew her attention. Her head rose in time to watch Claire's hand retract from that earlier photograph, the two little Betas now fully displayed once more as they stood in the valley between the mountainous Omega's knuckles. "I hate looking at Corey and at Dad, as small as they already are compared to me, and knowing that if their entire lives were put next to mine, even I wouldn't be able to see them anymore."

Then that's your own fault.

Stephanie wanted to scream those words upward at the pained goddess above her, that label now more appropriate than ever. She shouldn't put herself through this anguish that seemed to lay beneath that cool exterior, not over...not over some Betas. Not over two little people she so hideously outclassed in every way. They just weren't worth it, she told herself as her grasping fingers released their protective grip around her doll, blurry eyes affixing upon the frail construct that continued its tranquil rest in the bed of her palm in a forced attempt to look away from happy father and son.

They couldn't be.

"But," the Omega started again after a moment's pause, an element of forced evenness present in her voice in the wake of that momentary collapse, "but that's why I'm so glad I have this, Stephanie. My library. Whenever I start to think about this stuff, when it starts to become a little too much...I like to just come in here and watch a little video or two, just as a small reminder of what I have. That I still have more to come, more to add to it. A reminder that even when I can't add to it any more, I'll still have all these memories I can continue to carry with me into the years that follow."

"And that brings us back to the question I asked you, Stephanie, about why I record all these videos," Claire continued, even as Stephanie's eyes lifted from her doll to settle upon the theater-ready screen before her. "I do that, I maintain this library, so that I can carry the memory of two people I love for as long as I can. I know that I'll meet new people, make new friends, but that doesn't make things any easier - not at all. Because I'll only ever have one big brother...I'll only ever have one Daddy...and I don't want to forget them Stephanie. No matter what happens, I don't. I love them so much, and I don't want to forget their faces, the sounds of their voices. I don't want the great memories I've made with them to become just vague recollections without substance. I don't want them to disappear."

Stephanie swallowed, eyes darting to that photo once more to take in those two smiling faces as their respective owners rested in that bronzed basin. Parent and child, both occupying such a ludicrously powerful being with such unearthly comfort and ease. A being that one called "sister", and the other "daughter." And she had not forgotten the other woman that stood beside her, a wife and a mother, whose eyes Stephanie had clearly seen tilting ever-so-slightly to regard the husband and son on her daughter's hand. She had not realized it immediately, the shock Claire had sent her into blinding her perception for a moment, but now she comprehended what that picture was truly of.

A family.

Her eyes returned to the monitor, eager again for a change, and Stephanie's free hand slowly snaked upward to furtively grasp her shoulder. A family. That word conjured another image from the ether of her mind, sending her face into more ugly contortions. An image of a picture frame, lovingly placed on the shelf above their fireplace - a shelf she had not looked at in years. Stephanie could feel her mind work to recreate the details of the photograph contained within, felt it struggle on small details. But that image was there. A woman, her mother, standing against a murky blue background, holding her young daughter's sides as the girl stood in front of her. Both wearing perfect smiles with a shared sense of delight. Yet the number of happy faces did not stop at two. For on the girl's shoulder - she couldn't remember which one - with brunette hair at their backs, sat a small man and a small boy, with smiles of their own that could only just be made out. In that picture resided a husband and a wife, a father and a mother, a son and a daughter, a sister and a brother.

A family. A family that would never be complete again.

"But y'know," Claire called as Stephanie quietly sniffled to herself, "as much as this whole thing is for me, it's just as much for them. Because make no mistake Stephanie, there is no permanence in this either. I keep backup after backup of everything here, both in this house and elsewhere, but that's no shield against advancement. Eventually, these formats will become dated. Obsolete. Technology will keep progressing, until eventually...eventually, I probably won't even be able to play these anymore, and all these wonderful little reminders leave me, too."

"Then why even bother?" Stephanie eked out harshly in a mix of bitterness and...was that pity? Yet despite the harshness in her coarse voice, for the first time she truly looked at the contents of the screen in front of her. At the long, long list of video files that sat in that folder, each file beginning with a number and followed by some textual indicator, with one file in particular highlighted in blue - the one they had just watched.

14_LastGame.

Stephanie grunted lightly, realizing the meaning of the number as the first photo she had seen on the day flashed briefly through her mind. Her eyes continued to scan as a wistful chuckle reached her ears from above.

"That should be obvious," Claire stated with uneven, bittersweet tones, "it's because they deserve it. I could never, ever ask for a better father or a better older brother. They've both been so wonderful to me, and treated me with so much love since the moment all of us came together. I "bother" with doing this because it's honestly the least I feel I can do to show them how thankful I am for all the love they've shown me, for all the times they've been there for me."

"I might not be able to hold on to these things forever, Stephanie, and eventually the memories of the time we had together will fade. But the one thing I can do for them after they're gone, as one last display of my love, is to embrace the time we had together and carry those things with me for as long as I can."

The Alpha girl simply continued to stare forward, back straight as a board and her breathing audible as air fought to make its way through her runny nose. She just couldn't stop herself from surveying the columns of video, each little phrase a small peek into the life of the this happy family. Sometimes, though, the peek those words provided was far more personal in nature, of a family that no longer existed.

Stephanie practically jumped as her vision was blocked by wall of tanned swirls, and her head pulled away even as the fingertip worked its way under her chin. With some panic, her fingers cocooned around her doll and she pulled it in hard against her clavicle, eager to protect it. The fingertip began to gently push against her chin, arcing her head backward until she could see the canopy of Claire's outstretched hand directly above her. Beyond that, though, was the Omega's face, staring down upon her. Stephanie could feel the frown form on her lips as she took in those brown saucers bearing down upon her, and she swallowed harshly upon doing so. The sight of those glistening orbs reacquainted her with the lingering dampness of her own eyes; the wet trail that traced below them renewed it even as Claire's lips began to part.

"And don't you think William deserves the same, Stephanie?" she asked, causing the girl's stomach to seize up and the muscles of her neck to go into overdrive in a futile fight against the pad that so casually kept her looking upward. "Doesn't his life deserve to be recognized?"

The halting finger mercifully removed itself then, and Stephanie's head snapped forward with such speed that her chin smacked hard into the fist she held close above her chest. The sudden contact jarred her, and her head instinctively bounced away. In a near-panic she pulled that shielding hand away to look upon its occupant, the desire to check on it briefly overwhelming to her in the aftermath of the increased pressure that impact of her chin must have provided.

The doll, of course, was fine, and Stephanie shakily lifted her eyes to view that monitor again.

"Doesn't the time you spent together?"

Stephanie kept her head straight in defiance to her trembling body, kept her eyes moving as they devoured the contents of the Omega's library. The memories she held so dear. And with each little name her eyes passed over, an image came with it. Some more unwelcome than others.

"The love he had for you?"

Picnic.

A tiny little boy, stuffed from the veritable feast his mother had provided for the family during their trip to the nearby park. His cute, tired little eyes looking upward, begging for just one thing and lighting up as his big sister's upturned palm came to rest before him. Him crawling with a slothful eagerness into her hand, snuggling into the flesh of her palm, and drifting off into a well-earned nap as her fingers curled atop him like a blanket.

"The love you had for him?

Painting.

That same little boy jumping into a myriad of colored puddles, soaking his bare feet and hands in the watercolor paints provided for him and happily going to town on the immense paper canvas his big sister had provided. His childish giggling as he spread a rainbow of foot and hand-prints across it proving to be infectious.

"The love that you two shared?"

Making Cards.

Him holding the cut tip of a blue crayon in his hands, pressing down onto the thick, russet construction paper card his sister had made and running full speed in planned directions, his sister lightly supervising from above while still allowing the hyper child to leave his own unique mark. The card was from both of them, after all, a shared gift for their mother to be delivered with two bright smiles when she returned home from the firm. And then another day, with different circumstances. That little boy working meticulously on a small card that fit into even his minute hands, taking careful instruction from his bigger sibling so as to properly convey the message she wanted to leave for their beloved father.

Stephanie could feel her features shake amidst that flurry of questions and visions, her nose running a bit more. And deep inside her, a voice called out. A whisper, at first, but growing in volume, little by little. But no, not just in volume, in desperation as well. Desperation to answer those questions. Desperation to provide the only real answer there was.

"Please, Stephanie," Claire said as Stephanie's lips began to quiver. "Please, just one thing. If you won't do it for me, if you won't do it for yourself, then please...please just do it for William. For your little brother."

Stephanie's eyes continued working, and the recesses of her mind continued to dredge up one image after another in response as the accompanying numbers got smaller and smaller. A sign that soon, she would reach both the end and the beginning of this torturous archive. And that voice within her...that voice continued to rise, along with the rate of her breathing. She could feel the mucus trickling down from her nose, coming dangerously close to invading the surface area of her lips, and lightly rubbed her nose against the sleeve that adorned her free arm to remove that threat.

"Please," Claire pleaded once more, "do it for someone you used to treasure."

And that final word could not have hit Stephanie's ears at a more opportune time, as her eyes finished their work and focused upon the last video they could, the first one this immortal being behind her had created at five years old. She had no idea what the video truly contained, the specific contents the Omega wished to cherish. She didn't need that idea. The title itself did the job in telling her why it was contained within this library, to be preserved for as long as it could be.

My New Brother.

Stephanie's face crumpled, right then and there. Her teeth grit, the muscles of her cheeks tight and aching as they stretched with her wide, open-lipped frown. A fresh, salty stream began to pour from her eyes, the liquid pooling around her eyes and blurring her vision anew. A minor inconvenience, that, as the only thing Stephanie now saw was yet another picture from the depths of her memory.

A picture that saw her as four years old again, accompanying her mother into a special nursery, one just for Betas born to Alphas. A certain anxiety had stricken her at the idea of meeting the newest member of their family, and it was only the warm embrace of her mother's larger hand around her own that kept her steady. But that all came to an end as she was brought to a small, clear basin that was no larger than a soap dish and which sat upon a table in the middle of the room. With bated breath, her little fingers tightening around her mother's fingers, she peered over into it.

And almost immediately, her nervous eyes lit up. In the center of that basin, barely half an inch in length and swaddled up in a comfortable blanket lay her new baby brother. William. Red-faced and with eyes tightly shut, the newborn Beta was a picture of adorable tranquility that had elicited a coo from his older sister as she had continued to stare down upon him with continuously swelling love in her eyes.

Not just love, though. No, as she had looked down at his tiny, vulnerable little form, she had become overwhelmed with an almost instinctive sense of her new brother's immense frailty. She would have to look out for him, care for him. Protect him from the dangers of a world too big for him, from the same mean people that said bad things about her Daddy. Because she was a big sister, and that was her responsibility to him - to protect him as if he were the greatest of treasures.

Because he was, that voice within her cried out, and that was how he deserved to be treated.

Stephanie's clenched jaw began to part, that voice still desperate to be heard. Her breathing intensified, the words forcing themselves upward in a vicious attempt to escape black, tar-like pool that had trapped them for so long. Yet all that was accomplished was the wracking of Stephanie's body, as all that escaped was a wretched, dry heave.

And his life did deserve to be recognized.

She recovered from that first failure, gritting her teeth in anguish. Another attempt was coming, stronger than the last. Yet this one failed in much the same manner, the words transforming into another painful heave.

Along with their time together.

The love they'd had for each other.

The loves that they had shared.

Each declaration was accompanied with another desperate wracking of her body. Her chest ached along with her cheeks and jaw now, a consequence of one failure after another. With panting breath, she looked down at her little friend one more time. Comfortable and happy in her hand, as it should be. Stephanie's wide eyes narrowed, her lips pursed together.

William deserved so very, very much. He deserved to live a full, happy life, secure from threats of harm. He deserved that, and so much more.

What he didn't deserve was the pain she had inflicted upon him, the loss of his life. He didn't deserve to be a victim of her failures.

"Hi-" Stephanie heaved, the syllable trailing off into a labored breath.

He didn't deserve to be insulted.

"Hide-"

He didn't deserve to be forgotten.

"Hide and -"

He didn't deserve to be pushed out of her mind...

"Hide and -"

...just to make herself feel better.

"Hide and seek."The words felt like a trail of barbed wire pulling through her throat, and she could swear a stomach's worth of tar came with it. "We used used to play hide and seek."

Her happy little doll was pulled into her cheek, dampening it with the fresh tears that streamed from her closed eyes. For the first time in years, Stephanie cried, as hard as she could.

"Thank you," the soft voice of Claire Lindon told her, before she felt the return of a soft finger against her back. It rubbed at her gently, comfortingly, and in perfect timing with her sobs. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"Did he have a favorite hiding spot?" she then inquired innocently, and with a genuine sincerity in her curiosity that Stephanie could pick out with ease. But still, she would have none of that, and began to gently shake her head, nuzzling her doll softly with each shake.

"Y-You said," she quavered out between sobs, "you said y-you just w-w-wanted one thing."

"That's true," the Omega replied apologetically, her finger still rubbing away. "I'm sorry. No more, then. Thank you again, Stephanie. I mean that."

"C-C-Can I just...j-just go back...to my cell?" Stephanie pitched upward. She just...she just wanted to go lie down in her bed, and hug her pillow close. She just wanted to lie there and keep doing this for however long she wanted. For now, though, as she waited for a reply, she would simply continue to cry into her hands.

"No," Claire finally replied after a period of expanding, relative quiet, "no, I don't think so." Stephanie slumped forward a bit at that. "I think you're coming with me, actually." At that, her back straightened once more, and she nervously turned her head in the Omega's direction while quietly assuming the worst.

"But you...you said," she eked out amidst trembles, "you said no-"

"No session, Stephanie," Claire gently interrupted, giving the shaking girl a reassuring curl of her lips, "I just don't feel comfortable leaving you by yourself right now. So you'll come with me while I go pick up Dad. In my pocket. Okay? And then by the time we get back, I bet Jenna will have Naomi home, too. And you two can spend the night together. Does that sound good?"

Stephanie found herself slightly nodding amidst her sniffles. That sounded...that sounded a little nice, having a little sleepover with Naomi. The thumb rubbing against her back gave her one last, comfortable stroke and retracting, only to be replaced by two of the Omega's fingers as they curled around her torso and lifted her upward.

"And Stephanie," Claire tenderly started as she stood up, the hand that held Stephanie tracking toward the front pocket of the massive woman's cargo shorts, "I'm not sure...what you believe in, religiously, but...but I bet that wherever William is now...I bet he was really happy to hear you say that."

Stephanie's head hung at that, eyes tearing up anew. She barely paid attention as she was inserted into the dark, linty confines of Claire's shorts, the fingers laying her gently against the bottom of the pocket before they retracted, leaving her with one last gentle rub. Left alone in the warm darkness, she brought her doll into her cheek once more.

"William," she muttered pathetically as she felt Claire's powerful leg go into motion, Claire's last comment still on her mind. Desperately, she held her doll just a bit tighter against her damp skin. "I'm so, so sorry." She liked that thought, she did. But deep within, she knew that was an impossibility.

Because wherever William was now...and she had no doubt as to where that would be, it was the only place he deserved to be...wherever William was, she was absolutely certain that he hated her. And he had every right to.

 

 "So you understand why we're having a little face time at the moment, right?"

Claire's annoyance, much like her narrowed eyes, drilled through the little glass shield that separated her from the object of her scorn. The Alpha man that sat behind that screen, bedecked in a dark business suit that went well with his sporty little car, gave no response. Well, that wasn't quite fair, Claire thought. He was shivering as if he were in the arctic, and his little eyes were staring unblinkingly forward at her. Then there were his hands, gripping the steering wheel with such fervor that they were bone white - even through the windshield's tint.

The Omega supposed she couldn't quite blame him for it. He was sitting in his vehicle, itself pinched between her thumb and forefinger, and being held aloft at about 140 feet. Facing her scowling face probably wasn't helping his demeanor, either, which she might have found amusing given the brazen attitude that had put him in this mess.

Might have, had it not been for what had almost happened.

"No?" she questioned, tilting her head incredulously to the side. "Then let's jar that memory."

Her upturned hand, car still held in the pincer grip of her fingertips, pivoted on its wrist, facing her new little friend away from her. She could only imagine the sight of office windows blurring by as he spun around, the sense of his stomach rising as she knelt down onto her haunches as her clutching arm began to move forward. As she moved the little vehicle forward, lowering it closer to the black asphalt road until it hovered just a few above, Claire almost felt like a little kid playing with her cars again. Of course, back then there hadn't really been spectators, gazing up in awe at her as she held a vehicle as if it were a mere toy. Nor had her little cars been occupied.

She certainly hadn't ground traffic to a complete halt as she had went about her business. She did regret the inconvenience she was causing at the moment, but she'd be on her way soon enough. Her hand eventually came to a halt, stopped in the dead center of one of the city's many busy intersections. The little car just hung there, facing down the length of the four lane road while Claire knelt over the scene in her own walking lane.

"You remember this right?" she asked, not without a drip of condescension and while knowing full well she couldn't see an answer. She didn't really need one. "You were riiiiight here when I grabbed you up," Claire explained, "and right in front of you was a van. That van, actually."

Claire's eyes turned up a bit and to the left, and she turned the little car in her grip to face the crimson van that, with the rest of the traffic, sat stopped and watching on the perpendicular lane that ran through the intersection. The windows, she noted, were down, and the Omega's sharp eyes picked up on the blonde woman looking back at Claire and her temporary captive with an expression that was more than a bit shaken. And in the windows behind her own, Claire counted four more curious little faces - children's faces, and she felt annoyed all over again.

"And you were what? About a foot away when I managed to yank you up?" Claire asked, rhetorically. It had been a foot. "And you were going, what, 60?" He had been. "And the light was, I believe, red?"

Claire began to rise, pulling the little car back toward herself as she did so even as she took the opportunity to scan his license plate with her eyes, committing the sequence of digits to memory. She rose deliberately, with care, though mostly out of concern for the shaken little girl currently resting in a pocket of her cargo shorts. She had probably jarred her enough when making her move to nab the little vehicle in her grip before something terrible had happened.

Speaking of which...

Now standing at her full height once more, dwarfing some nearby buildings while closing the gap to the tops of others, Claire's wrist pivoted once more to face the man in her possession toward her yet again. His hands still had the steering wheel clutched in a death grip, though this time he seemed less eager to simply stare forward into her withering gaze. Instead, he averted his eyes almost immediately upon making contact with her this time. The shivering was still there, too, but it seemed...calmer. Different.

Maybe, she thought, he's starting to understand.

"So. Starting to get it, then? What would have happened if I hadn't been passing by? If I had been even half a second later in catching your little car?"

Her eyes continued to bore through the glass as she asked her questions, and Claire was almost certain she'd actually puncture them if she continued with it. The object of her ire continued to evade eye contact, seemingly content to just shiver, but amidst that trembling his head began to nod. Slowly, and lightly, but it was there.

"So if you get that much," Claire continued, her voice starting to slip into a business monotone, "you must understand what would have likely happened had that crash happened. Because going at that speed, something would have happened. To you. To that woman. To those children. All because of your irresponsible behavior. You do understand that, right?"

At that, she watched a lump pass down the captive man's throat, followed by a deep breath. Slowly, he turned to face her again, and his grip around the wheel began to weaken. His shaking, too, began to lessen. Following this, that nodding started again. It was slow, as it had been the first time, but at the same time more...purposeful. Closing her eyes for a moment, the Omega sighed. She liked the look in the Alpha's eyes, one of understanding. Her annoyance began to slowly melt in the face of it, though she still wasn't in anything resembling a good mood regarding the situation.

"Good," she exclaimed, opening her eyes again. "So here's one more question: I put you down to go on your way. This - the "you speeding and running red lights because screw everyone else" thing - doesn't happen again. You drive like a responsible, considerate adult, and a talk like this never happens again. Is this something that happens if I let you go on your way?"

A considerate nod was his response, and for the Alpha's part, he maintained a steady eye contact with her through it. He was taking her words seriously, and truth be told there was something else in his little gaze. A sense of...realization, she guessed. Again, a good thing in her eyes.

"Then that's what we'll do, then," Claire informed, though she wasn't quite done. "But separate from that, I do have your tag number, and I'm gonna report this little incident to the authorities. So that they're aware of what happened should you be involved in another little incident down the road. I feel that's fair. You?" Another nod. No hesitation, but clearly one with that same consideration behind it. "Well okay, then."

With that, Claire knelt once more, and soon enough she had deposited the little car tenderly upon road, facing the same direction as he had been during his transgression of basic traffic laws.

"Go ahead, get a move on," she urged, returning to her standing height. She now towered behind the vehicle, driving in once more what a little toy it was. "And remember what I said."

To the Alpha's credit, he did as suggested. Claire watched him drive away as she stood and observed, and his driving was much better, much safer as he made his way down the road. Sticking to the speed limit, stopping at the red lights. Soon enough, he took a right turn, and as such disappeared from view. Sighing once more, Claire yanked her phone from her pocket and input a quick note of the man's tag number for posterity. She's report the incident when she got back home, when she was in territory that didn't require quite as much focus.

Stowing the device away in the pocket opposite of Stephanie, Claire noted that traffic had begun to resume, both in car and on foot. That van, too, had apparently gone on its way. A pity, Claire thought, she had wanted to check in on the lady and those children. Instead, she supposed she best resume her travel.

She put one attentive foot forward, followed by the other, until her walking pace had resumed in full. Having this central lane reserved for Omega use was all well and good, of course, but as had just been proven, there was plenty of reason to remain alert and on the lookout. Still, though, she was glad that business had been concluded rather peacefully.

Passing between the buildings, fragile little shells to her that contained even more fragile lives, Claire felt her good humor returning. She enjoyed having an excuse to walk through the city proper. It was fun, after all, to compare these brick and mortar towers to the flesh and blood tower she herself stood as. It was a source of amusement to her, knowing that even the buildings that managed to dwarf her were still not an actual match for her strength - that was an objective fact. She had done demolition work with Melody about a year ago, after Aegis had been contracted to take care of a few larger buildings that had fallen into disuse and disrepair. The ease with which they had gone about their task amazed Claire to this day - those buildings, towers of might in their own right, had been like little kiddy toys at the hands of the two women, their powerful hands and arms crushing through stone and metal with incredible ease as they had carefully destroyed particular areas to facilitate a straight collapse. It had been quite an amazing sight to see, to be a part of bringing low such structures, and Claire idly found herself hoping another such contract would come along in the near future.

More than any of that, though, was that she could once more return to the pleased demeanor she had worn before coming across that near catastrophe, a demeanor born of pride in the girl on her person, at the progress they had made earlier today. She hoped Stephanie would be up for talking again within a few days. She wanted to talk some more about William, learn more about their activities as children. She wanted to help her, to finish the healing process that had been so sickeningly interrupted and perverted. And today...today, she thought, was a wonderful first step down that road, and she had to resist its call to put a spring in her step.

Helping her feelings along while simultaneously attempting to whittle down her resistance to such dalliances was, of course, her destination. The place she was getting steadily closer to with each long stride. The person she was getting closer to, who she hadn't seen in months, a separation that had gone on far too long for her tastes. And Claire couldn't wait to see him. To see her dad. To hold him safely within her hands once more.

 

 His mouth opening wide in a tired yawn, Howard Lindon decided to take the opportunity to stretch. Arching his back against the guard rail of the receiving platform, he welcomed the relief brought on by stretching his arms above his head in what amounted to an upside-down four. Hours in a plane, horrifically idle, had done him no favors, and his muscles ached for activity even as they ached for rest in some sort of sick hypocrisy. The human body, he had decided long ago, was an abomination of contradictory behaviors.

Yawn winding down, Howard concluded his little stretching session, returning to a more normal posture and pose. Smacking his lips, he began to rub at his jaw, the bristly hairs that met his hand reminding the Beta doctor of the unwelcome beard he had developed during his months of relative isolation. Getting rid of that thing, he decided while bringing his rubbing arm down to once more rest upon the guard rail, was priority number one once he got back home.

Still, the sacrifice of a more kempt appearance had been more than worth it. During his time in the lush forests of South America, he had saved so many lives in the wake of what in this day and age was a relatively minor disease that had visited itself upon an indigenous Beta tribe that called a small section of those forests home. Independent and hostile toward interference from Aegis (themselves holding to policies of non-interference in matters of indigenous Beta populations unless requested), the tribe's elders had nevertheless accepted a compromise of sorts in the early days of the sickness in allowing Howard and a handful of other medically educated Betas to visit them. It was a decision that had ultimately saved the tribe, barring the idea that Aegis might have eventually broken their policy if the choice had been either that or the extinction of a people they had watched for years from a respectful distance. As the sickness had progressed through the tribe, it had required unceasing devotion from Howard and his limited team colleagues to control. There had been dark spots, there had been deaths, none of them easy to swallow. Yet through their ceaseless dedication they had persevered, and the tribe had survived largely intact. More than worth the cost of ugly facial hair.

Still, Howard thought with a frown, there had been other costs. Ones much more serious than some trifling amount of facial hair, that weighed down upon him even now. Choosing to stay with those people...over leaving to be with his son...it had been the most difficult decision of his life. To not come back home to be there for his child as he lay broken in a mobile little hospital bed, the victim of a living nightmare he though he had escaped forever...sometimes it felt as if he couldn't have possibly made that decision, and yet he had. It had tortured him every day, leading Howard to bury himself in his work with preternatural focus as he had told himself that those Betas needed him to be there, that his son had been safe in the custody of those who could protect him, while he had channeled his personal frustrations into a constructive force.

They had not gone without correspondence, of course. He had taken his rest shifts at the Aegis outpost some distance away from the tribe's lands, which had allowed him email access. Still, Howard felt that was a poor substitute for actually being there as Corey had occasionally expressed his discontentment with his current situation of complete dependence, though as typical for his son it was relegated to subtext - outright voicing those frustrations just wasn't a likely scenario for the young man. Despite that, his son's messages had generally been rather relaxed - even if he had been discontent with his current confinement to bed, he had seemed content in other areas. It had honestly flummoxed Howard quite a bit, Corey being relaxed in any way after his vicious assault, and truly he had worried that his son was bottling things up for his sake.

The reason for that relaxation had become quite clear, Howard recalled with some amusement, just a few days ago when he had been making his preparations to leave. Corey had, apparently, felt the need to inform him before his arrival that he was now "kind of" dating sweet little Melody King. That had actually drawn a good laugh out of Howard at the time, something he had desperately needed. Greg's eldest daughter had been openly infatuated with his son for years, something pretty much everyone had noticed - except, somehow, for Corey himself. Someone had apparently made a move in the aftermath of Corey's experience, and Howard found himself immensely grateful for that. If Melody could provide for Corey what contentment had been in those messages in the wake of the horror his son had experienced, if she could be the rock that Abby had been for Howard himself...

If, Howard thought as he turned his head to take a look at the city that sat outside of the airport's grounds, she could be there for his pride and joy...

As if on cue, a new form appeared amidst the buildings that lined the multi-lane road leading in and out the airport. It was a form that was a match for some of those structures in stature, while at the same time being dwarfed by others. But of course, this form was not of glass, of stone, of metal. This form was living and lively, and even at this great distance it exuded excitement.

It was the form of his other pride and joy.

Howard smirked lightly to himself as his daughter rounded the corner that would place her on the direct path to the airport. At this distance, she looked to be of an actually manageable size. That in itself brought Howard some amusement, as even at this supposed "manageable" size, she still rivaled the buildings she was walking among. Of course, with each single step along the reserved central lane - a lane he knew to be only a bit wider than one of her feet, and which she often referred to as more of a balance board than a dedicated lane - her true size began to assert itself more and more.

As her form continued to grow ever larger, it also became ever clearer, and years of fatherhood began to take the reins of his thoughts. He had become adept, to say the least, at reading body language over the past 15 years. Particularly with his wife, and just as much so with his adoptive daughter. Truthfully, he felt as if it would be odd if he hadn't developed this particularly proficiency. Given the...difference, in their respective scales, body language should be quite easy for him to read indeed. Anyone, he surmised, should be able to read a form the size of a mountain.

And what the little mountain in the distance told him was that it was having to try very, very hard to contain itself to its present pace. It told him that the long strides being taken weren't long enough, that the distance covered could be greater. It told him that the pace could be quicker, that it wanted to erupt in a cheerful, hasty gait. That it wanted to jog, wanted to run. That it wanted to end its confinement to that central lane and use all of the considerable power at its disposal to reach its destination as quickly as possible - which would be quick, indeed, should it give in to that impatience.

Of course, the little-but-still-growing mountain steadily making its way down that path wouldn't do such a thing. His daughter wouldn't. Even if she likely could traverse the remaining distance in just about any manner she wished without a single misstep, she would keep herself controlled. Disciplined. Anything else might lead to harm, and a girl Claire's size could certainly cause quite a large amount of that - especially with all those comparatively little cars zooming by her sandal-clad feet. No, much like her mother, she would act in a manner that kept the safety of those around her in mind. It was that discipline, that care, that self-restraint that Howard had always admired and loved. First in Abby, and then in Claire. Though while in the former it had been a source of early awe and then infatuation,with the latter it had instead been a source of pride.

So it was with pride that he calmly observed his daughter's continued approach. For now, he simply had to keep his gaze level, though that luxury would end soon enough. Granted, knowing Claire, that in itself wouldn't be the case for long. Continuing to watch Claire's approach, he turned on the spot, easing his view while resting his forearms upon the railing. Each step now seemed to make her increasingly larger, an effect that reached its crescendo as the Omega finally stepped onto the grounds of the airport. Now in close proximity to the facility, Claire actually had to look down upon it...a building that was effectively a skyscraper to Howard, and here was his 20-year old daughter looking down at it. In the confines of their home, he sometimes forgot what a small world this really was for his wife and daughter.

The Omega's arrival at the airport was met with the arrival of something else: Newly open space and, with it, freedom. The freedom to move where she pleased. And, as the towering young woman's eyes located the half-circle of the receiving area which currently housed Howard and which was elevated at about five Alpha feet in height, she took advantage of that freedom by leaving her little lane behind while still keeping a measured pace. At this distance, though, even a measured pace would take her to his location in no time. With each of Claire's steps, Howard had to crane his neck a bit higher, until eventually he was almost looking straight upward.

As the Omega came to a halt just a short step away from the open platform, she leaned forward slightly, bringing her face into easy view, the long black strands of her hair cascading downward. With a casual movements of a hand thousands of feet above, those pendulous tresses were easily swept back behind her shoulders, leaving Howard with only her soft brown eyes to focus on. He watched with wry amusement as they began to search his platform, itself surprisingly crowded with Betas here to be picked by Alphas (likely) or some other Omega. He could only imagine, going by the fact that Claire was currently biting her lower lip in palpable concentration, her taking in the face of each and every Beta her sharp eyes observed as her gaze slowly made its way to him from the end of the platform furthest from his position.

That wasn't going to do, Howard thought, as he brought a hand up to his right ear, giving a quick press to the tag attached to the lobe.

"Two o'clock, Claire-bear," he called playfully upward, his little voice now amplified rather tremendously by the wondrous little device attached to his ear. The response from his daughter was instantaneous, her dark mirrors shifting and locking onto him with startling accuracy and without the slightest bit of hesitation. As soon as they found him, that lip-biting halted. Instead, the corners of Claire's lips began to curl upwards in an immense smile that bared her house-sized teeth. It was a beautiful smile, a familiar smile - it was something she had inherited completely from her mother, and it suited her just the same.

Howard smiled, too, at this acknowledgment, and prepared himself to disembark as he watched his enormous child begin to lower herself down onto her haunches. The surrounding Betas, he noticed, began to back away from the enclosing rails, apparently none too eager to come into close contact with the portrait of enormity before them. He supposed this must be their first time being so close to an Omega, in which case he couldn't quite blame them. He hadn't reacted much better, after all, on that night that now seemed so long ago, when Abby's impossibly massive body had been approaching him and his infant son. That fright had been for naught, of course, but he supposed he was quite biased by this point. While their apprehension was lamentable, he was just glad that Claire was far too preoccupied with fetching him to notice. It would be a pity for that smile to transform into a frown.

Claire was resting on one knee soon enough, and it was then that she brought her right hand to bear. With palm upturned it approached, it's bulk and power great enough to easily rip the entire receiving area away from the airport terminal if its owner so desired. Instead, Claire's index finger unfurled from its companions, pointing square at him as it did so. Closer and closer it came, like a flesh-toned missile, until it suddenly dipped downward. With practiced care, Claire hooked her finger gently underneath the protruding platform of the receiving area. Digit offered, what now filled Howard's vision was a bronze road that gently sloped upward. Following its path, he found himself looking far beyond the titanic hand and once more gazing at the far-off moon of his daughter's smiling face as she beckoned him to board.

More than ready to disembark, he quickly found the latch for the gate that rested to his side before pushing it open and casually strolling forth and right off the platform, allowing the gate to shut and relatch behind him. He even thought he heard a few gasps behind him as he hit the sudden drop, though the concern was misplaced. The falling distance was only a Beta foot, and even then...well, the soft floor that awaited him was nothing to fear, after all, and he landed rather gracefully upon his daughter's ridged fingertip. Eyes still focused on the warm digit he now stood upon, he gave a casual wave upward.

Signal received, the digit he occupied went on the move. Undocking from the receiving balcony, it began to rise. Careful and considerate beyond measure, with all the grace of her mother, Claire's finger rose with her body. Every movement, despite the scale on which it occurred, done at a comfortable speed that allowed Howard to stand amid Claire's swirling fingerprints without issue even as he was elevated hundreds and then thousands of feet upward. Higher and higher, with Claire's gently smiling face still gazing down upon him.

It didn't take particularly long her him to rise above her torso, level with her neck, and then he kept rising. As he continued to ascend, Claire's face - now encompassing all that he could see - began to turn, and it did not surprise him. Instead, he simply prepared himself as he continued to rise.

"Missed you, Daddy," his monolithic daughter boomed with affection that matched her enormity, but with a softness that most assuredly did not. And as the words met his ears, Howard found himself reaching the destination Claire had intended for him. He welcomed the feeling of the only embrace they had ever known as he was pressed with utmost love and care into the veritable tanned field of his daughter's soft, warm cheek. He didn't fight back as the press knocked him onto his back; there was no point, no reason for him to do so. Instead, he simply welcomed being sandwiched between finger and cheek...welcomed being home again, as he began to affectionately rub at his daughter's skin.

"Missed you, too, sweetheart."

 

 "Your beard tickles."

The statement was surrounded on all sides by a rumbling giggle that shook Howard's infinitesimal body into another forced cuddle against the cheek of his daughter. Snickering to himself out of intense humor at the irritation his comparatively microscopic whiskers were causing, he nuzzled his chin briefly into his tanned roof. An almost-but-not quite suppressed squeal of girlish laughter rose from the throat that lay hidden quite some distance away, another rumbling giggle shaking him along with his own continued chuckles. A wide grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, Howard's teasing nuzzles ceased, an action he punctuated with a quick, fatherly kiss laid upon the side of his daughter's face. An action delivered none too soon as his fingertip terrace began to part from the bronze sky above.

His ridged pad of a vehicle changing positions, elegantly curving upward to put him on an even level with Claire's dark irises, Howard slowly sat up into a cross-legged style. He observed wryly as Claire's black pupils. over a hundred feet away from his perspective, began to contract in complete and utter focus on his being. It was inspection time, he knew, now that their little greeting had finished. Claire was studying him intently, looking for even the slightest suggestion that he was anything other than a picture of perfect health.

"How was the trip back?" his daughter asked, her voice pitched as low as she could manage to keep their conversation private after the initial emotional need of welcoming him back with an overwhelming hug had been met. Apparently meeting the giant girl's standards for satisfactory condition, her pupils began to dilate slightly.

"About as well as could be hoped," he responded monotonously, propping his arm up on his leg and resting his chin in hand. "It was safe, and I got here, and I'm thankful enough for that. Just wish I hadn't stowed my tablet with my luggage by accident. Had nothing to read on the way back up here, and I've never been able to sleep on a plane."

"Aw," Claire exclaimed, "that stinks. No in-flight movie or anything?"

"There was one," Howard grunted out with a crinkled nose, "one of those awful romantic comedies. Looked out my window when it started and never turned back." A near-thundeirng snicker made its way to him at that, leading the Beta to break from his little sourpuss act with a small smirk. At the same time, though, he marked the re-contracting pupils of his daughter's eyes before him as she had apparently begun to study him anew.

"Where is your luggage, anyway?" she asked, confused.

"Sent it back through the Aegis channels," he answered casually. "If someone like Tricia doesn't trust an airport with her luggage, there's no way on Earth I'm going to trust them with mine." Another soft snicker sounded. "It should arrive tomorrow at the Facility. You don't mind bringing it home, do you?"

"I'll think about it," Claire teased, frankly doing a bad job at playing it as anything but. Her pupils, still contracted, continued to study him. "I do like the beard on you, by the way."

"Well don't get used to it," Howard explained to her with good humor. "This thing's gone the moment I get home."

"Don't be like that!" the Omega exclaimed, her voice rising just a bit. "It looks nice on you. Makes you look rugged."

"Just the same, it's gon-"

"I bet Mom would just love it."

Howard's protest halted itself, the thought of his wife passing through his mind. Thoughts of seeing her again, in all her splendor. Other thoughts surfaced, too, of looking into her youthful face, unchanged by the last two decades, and a wave of self-consciousness hit him.

"You think so?" he asked somewhat quietly.

"I do," Claire responded confidently, and he was sure that a smile was beginning to form underneath his position.

"Well...I guess it wouldn't hurt to keep it a bit longer," he mused, taking the opportunity to cast his gaze downward to confirm the curling lips below him. "Where is your mother, anyway?"

"At work," his daughter informed him. "Or actually, she might be at lunch with Mellie and Corey right now. I know she wanted to try to work that in. But she went all super-taskmaster when she got to the office this morning, so who knows."

"Did Melody not have things rolling smoothly?" Howard questioned with a tilt of his head. Melody was shy, sure, but she had never projected herself as anything less than capable in her role as Abby's second-in-command.

"No, no, she's had the place running fine," Claire explained, "but you know Mom. Fine isn't fine enough, and all that. There were some infrastructure projects she felt should have been started weeks ago. Apparently Mrs. Evelyn's face went super pale when Mom found that stuff. Took Bridget with her to the mayor's office, like, immediately. That's what Jenna said when she came over, anyway."

"Does sound like Abby," Howard conceded with a huff of amusement as he looked about to his sides, taking in the view afforded by being held aloft by his towering child. He had to admit, it was a fun change of pace to look at things from the perspective of his wife and daughter at times. To look down at the paved paths below that, at ground level, would appear to go on forever. At the former metal behemoths that traversed them, the formerly towering Alphas that walked around. More than a few of them, he noted, looking up at his imposing daughter. "So your brother's there with Melody, I take it?"

"Yup," Claire answered with a pleased chirp. "They spend a lot of time together, actually. If Mellie's in the office for the day he'll just hang out at her desk. Or on someone else's, if she has meetings. I think he likes it a lot, being there with so many of us."

Howard nodded. Corey likely would be fond of that, the sheer amount of much-needed security being at Aegis likely contributed to his peace of mind. Continuing to curiously look about, he caught himself following the fabric of Claire's loose t-shirt downwards where it met her her denim cargo shorts, which in turn flowed down to her knees. His gaze started to shift to the side, toward a cart that had entered his vision, when a contrasting presence amidst the denim fabric suddenly caught his eye.

"Hello, Miss," he called politely downward at the Alpha girl currently latching into the rim of his daughter's cave-like pocket, head and shoulders cresting the opening. Her eyes - reddened, Howard thought - went from passive, seemingly tired little things to widened orbs at his surprising greeting. She delayed a second, locating him perched upon the finger held above her, and then she was gone. The brunette girl had wasted little more time in allowing herself to drop back into her pocket prison, though not before Howard had made a reading of her face and of the pain that had been apparent on it.

Claire, spurred by his attention and his greeting, looked down as well, the movement of her head creating a slight breeze for him. She immediately focused on her pocket, and Howard assumed she had also felt the motions of the girl slipping back in.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah," Claire solemnly responded bringing her head back to to look upon him. Her formerly energetic eyes now stared at him deflated. Howard took a deep, shaky breath, eyes wandering back down to the pocket.

"Which one?" he asked at a cold whisper, trying to keep the matter contained to head-level.

"With...with the brother," Claire informed him at a matching whisper, apparently fully intending to limit the projection of her voice just as much as her father. Howard grunted, his eyes remaining fixed on that pocket, as mixed emotions bubbled up within him. On one hand, there was that growing sense of anger, of resentment toward the girl his daughter held captive. She had, after all, been involved in the near death of his son. Left him a broken heap on the ground, rescued only by the providence of his little sister. His body had been demolished, and Howard worried, too, about his mind. It was almost too hard to think about, but...well, he knew the statistics, had treated victims. Suicide attempts among victims of Alphas that had been mutilated to the extent that Corey had been were...they were far too common, and it left Howard thankful all over again toward Melody King. All of this served to fuel his growing anger at that young girl, and yet that other hand remained, as if to restrain him.

Because in that hand rested all the demons that no doubt haunted that girl, that had likely done so for years if Claire's morose messages had been anything to go by. To have been 10 years old and killed a Beta, her brother...it was a situation that hit far too close to home, too close to plausibility for Howard. He barely noticed as one of his hands snaked downward onto the pad he rested on, rubbing lovingly upon its ridges. As much as he trusted his daughter, as much absolute faith as he had in the safety of both him and his son in her capable hands...it would still be easy. It would be far too easy for something to happen, and while he had made peace with that long ago, it didn't mean that fact stopped being true. And thinking about what had happened to that captive girl and her brother...Howard couldn't help but wonder how his own daughter would have come out had the worst occurred between her and Corey, with the guilt and that pain that would have followed it.

"We should head home," Claire suddenly suggested, a pained pleading in her low voice. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Howard nodded. It sounded like she was ready to move on from this particular topic, and Howard agreed.

"Probably should," he stated, turning his head to face his daughter's eyes again, "I feel about ready to just pass out for a day or two."

Those darkened eyes lit up a bit at that. More than a bit.

"Hm," Claire sounded, "maybe for a few hours. Not for a day, though, that's not gonna work."

"And why is that?" Howard asked with incredulity

" 'cause we have guests coming tonight. For the party."

Howard's eyes narrowed.

"Did I not mention that?" Claire teased, and once more Howard got the feeling that a wide smile was forming below him.

"You did not," Howard confirmed, a smile threatening to split his own lips as he attempted to feign.

"Not in email or anything?" his daughter smarmed.

"Utterly failed to do so."

"Well. How 'bout that?" Cheer had steadily warmed Claire's voice once more, and it was rapidly spreading to Howard himself. "I guess you know now, though, and that's what matters."

Howard's platform began to lower, just a bit. "A bit," of course, being comparative to his daughter. Soon, his perch was burying itself into the sea of his daughter's opposite palm, her warm flesh stretching in every direction. Taking the invitation, Howard began to carefully descend from his fingertip island and into the skin below. A trivial act, at this point, giving how much he had done this over the years, and soon he had left the ridged swirls behind for the trench of a crease.

"So why tonight, precisely?" he questioned upward, taking a seat once more. He wasn't annoyed, honestly, but he was curious. "Determined not to give me a rest?"

"Little bit of that," Claire jokingly responded with a smirk, as Howard now had to look up to take in her face, "but it's just sort of the best time for it. Melody and Corey are gonna head south a bit, visit some of his college friends for a few days. And Mom's already getting meetings scheduled with basically everyone of note in the region for the next several days anyway. No other time we'll all be together, so..."

"So it sounds like just us at home for the weekend then, hm?"

"Pretty much!"

"Hm." Howard leaned back, allowing his back to fall onto the warm palm beneath him as he locked his hands behind his head. Further below, he could hear the beginning of the rhythmic booms of his daughter's feet upon the pavement, signaling the arrival of a breeze that washed upon him as Claire began the trek home. He had to admit, he had been looking forward to spending the next several days with his family, but plans were plans. It was likely good that Corey was getting out of the area for a bit, seeing some different faces with Ms. King. And Abby's responsibilities...well, those were nothing new. She juggled them admirably, and he knew they'd have plenty of time together once her presence had been re-established.

"So do you have to go in over the weekend?" he asked upward, probing hopefully for a particular answer. If it came, he had just the activity in mind.

"Nope," came the reply, and a smile crossed Howard's lips.

"So a little trip of our own wouldn't be out of the question?"

"It...depends on where?"

"Well," Howard started, as if he wasn't quite sure, "I was considering proposing we take a trip over to the coast..."

"For what?" Claire's reply was curt, and more than that, he also heard the footsteps so far below come to a halt. The Omega's face leaned forward into full view, her features becoming his new sky as she looked down upon him seriously. Howard's smile widened, it was his daughter's turn to hope for a particular answer, now.

"Oh," he teased, closing his eyes, "I was just thinking that maybe we go diving again...maybe check out that cave we found last time..."

Almost no sooner had the words left his mouth than a new object made itself known. Made of yet more warm flesh, it lightly pressed into him, nuzzled him. The trapped Beta didn't even need to open his eyes to know what it was, bringing a hand from behind his head to pat gently on the cartilaginous protrusion of his daughter's nose as she lovingly nuzzled the tip into his minute form.

"Daddy, I'd love to!" 

“Corey?”

“Hm?”

“Lunch went well, didn’t it? We all had a good time, right? No one made anyone mad or disappointed or…anything like that, did they?”

“Seemed to go perfectly to me, sure.”

“You’re sure I didn’t do something that annoyed Mrs. Abby? Didn’t say the wrong thing?”

“Pretty sure, yeah. Seemed really happy to me.”

“So all this work isn’t her getting back at me for something?”

“Oh, no, I can promise you that’s not the case.”

“You can? Really?”

 “Mmmhmm. Believe me, she doesn’t really do passive-aggressive.”

“Well I guess that settles it, then. Your mom’s just evil.”

Melody’s proclamation, delivered from a huddled posture that saw her forehead pressed unto the top of her desk as a signal of ultimate defeat, drew a snort from the young man resting a thumb’s width away.

“Really? Don’t think you’re being a touch dramatic?” he teased.

“Nope,” Melody replied, eyes still tightly shut from the moment her head had sunk in exhaustion. “Only thing that makes sense. How else could we have such a nice time out only for her to spring this on me the moment we get back?”

“Easily, I assure you,” Corey remarked, experience clearly lending a certain confidence to that answer while it elicited a low grunt from Melody herself. “And c’mon, this isn’t that bad.”

“It’s a ten page report on employee distribution efficiency,” she reminded him, putting special effort into allowing her tiredness to seep into her voice. “And that’s just what she wants today.” A soft, acknowledging smacking of Corey’s lips was the Beta’s immediate response.

“Sooo,” he started, and with a tone that couldn’t have been more leading if he had tried, “what I’m picking up on here is that you could use a recharge.”

“Mmmhmm,” Melody sounded pathetically, taking an imaginary knife to the smile that had momentarily threatened her.

“Little bit to the right, then,” Corey instructed kindly, and Melody slowly obliged as her forehead slid along her desk’s smooth surface, lifting as it did so until it was replaced upon the surface with the tip of her nose. Her mind’s eye worked its usual magic as it teamed with a spatial awareness that at times bordered on omniscience, leaving her with no reason to open her resting eyes. Her love was a thumb’s width away? Then she would move just a hair’s width shy of that. She could see it perfectly in her head as it happened, the side of her nose sliding into a gentle rest directly at the side of that metal capsule – so close that any would say they had to be touching, with Melody’s own senses being the only source of disagreement as the presence of touch proved vacant.

It was a vacancy that was quickly filled by a small pair of lips upon her skin, and this time Melody took no efforts against the smile spreading across her face. The Omega took the moment to revel in this lingering demonstration of her love’s affection as her spirits lifted and her fatigue lessened. Even the warming of her cheeks in a satisfied blush didn’t faze her, and that in itself brought the young woman some relief. After that first shared kiss a month ago, they had…stepped back, a little, so that when Corey had become more affectionate just a week ago it had overwhelmed her all over again. And while that was nice in its own way, it didn’t compare in the least to just being able to enjoy the shared moment.  Of course, that moment had to come to an end. She had imagined it would be through a tender parting.

Instead, it came with the advent of a loud cooing that jarred Corey loose just a bit too soon as he looked for the source. Melody’s eyelids came under the same effect, opening in a combination of annoyance and disturbed modesty that furthered the encroaching redness of her cheeks.  Immediately, her right eye shifted, just enough to bring the office – and the perpetrator – into view.

Alexis caught her gaze immediately, and in a flash the heiress had clasped a hand over her own mouth in comical realization of what she had caused. Within another second, her auburn-haired colleague had hunched behind her own monitor as if sinking into a pit, removing herself from Melody’s gaze while still, amusingly enough to the larger woman, being vulnerable to the stink-eye fixed upon her by Kyle from his neighboring desk.

“So I guess it turns out the office isn’t the best place in the world for that,” Corey commented with a snicker, drawing Melody’s eye away from her hiding coworker and to her smiling boyfriend below. Actually, I think it’s the perfect place, she thought to herself, staving off the cooling of her cheeks a bit longer in the process.

“Maybe,” she responded as Corey’s little hand reached out to give her nose a selection of tender pats. “But I probably should get back to it, huh?”

“I’d consider it,” he advised with one last pat, drawing out a small snort from Melody before she sat up once more in her chair, regrettably leaving Corey behind as her fingers returned to her keyboard and continued their draining task.

“Thanks, by the way,” Melody warmly commented. “Might actually get through this now.”

“What can I say? I am here to help,” Corey confidently replied, bringing a little grin to Melody’s lips as she continued to type away. Just a bit more, then, and she’d be done – at least temporarily. And then...well, she’d be done. For several days, in fact. And then it would just be her, Corey, and hundreds of miles of alone time together as they trekked southward for a series of meetings with several of the friends Corey had made over the course of his studies.

But really, it was the trek itself she was most looking forward to. Melody had always loved going on extended walkabouts when the free time had presented itself, enjoying nature in all its beauty and splendor. She was particularly fond of the mountain ranges of Appalachia, of delicately traversing across them while basking in the natural atmosphere that was so…different from the bustling city she called home. And this particular trek, she decided, would be the best yet.

Because this time, Corey would be there, to experience it all with her. With her. Not only that, but it would be his first time seeing it! So it was up to her to pool her experience, creating an itinerary that would showcase the greatest beauty the region had to offer to him. It was up to her to make the trek – more of a prolonged date, she considered with a pursed-lip grin - an enjoyable one, and she welcomed the task. The thought made her positively bubbly, not to mention thankful that the Lindons had always favored coastal vacations so as to make this possible for her.

Though of course, Melody realized as she shifted into autopilot in referencing the various figures and data she was pulling from, she was getting a bit ahead of herself. They wouldn’t be leaving until the next evening, and they had much more pressing plans for tonight. With Mr. and Mrs. Lindon finally back home, Claire had planned a wonderful little party to welcome the two back, and turnout was expected to be high. A selection of Omegas would be there, of course, including Jenna’s parents and Melody’s mother (a surprise to her, given…past events). Kyle, Alexis, and Angela, too. Then there were all the Alpha and Beta guests, most of them friends of Mr. Howard. Claire had really wasted no effort and left no contact unreached as she had compiled what looked to be a rather large guest list of promised attendees.

It looked to have every hallmark of a fun evening, with good food and drink, and Melody was looking forward to it. Corey, too, was especially eager to see his father again, a sentiment Melody agreed with. Mr. Howard was so funny and sweet, and even now she could fondly remember when he would read to her class of young Omegas at the Institute, as short-lived a stint as it had been.

One little problem had almost gotten in the way of the reunion, though, and the recollection of it halted Melody’s fingertips in place. Corey’s baths were on a…less than ideal schedule for this occasion, they had found. So that little fact had necessitated a change in it and…had they done that? Had she? Had Corey? She wanted to say yes, but…for the life of her, she couldn’t. It was a moment of absent-mindedness that actually perturbed the busy Omega quite a bit – it certainly wasn’t something that she should be forgetting. In fact, it was precisely the type of detail she had been taught to consider above all else (the “little things,” and all that).

So, biting her lip, Melody minimized her work and brought the control panel for Corey’s Chamber into view. She had actually been quite giddy upon being given access to it a few short weeks back, taking it as an early signifier of the new relationship the two found themselves in. She had acquainted herself with it fully, and in short order had navigated through the rather friendly interface to the change logs – the quickest way to tell if she’d have to go through the much less friendly process of beginning a schedule shift.

The logs hung on her screen, then, recording the various routines of the little machine. Painkiller applications, hydration and feeding processes, past baths, and a variety of other information. Carefully, her eyes scanned each line, looking for schedule change amongst the mass of data. Finding her target did not take long, thankfully, and Melody exhaled in relief as she confirmed the new time for much later in the night, as it had been set just a couple of days ago by Corey.

Best get back to work, then, she thought, casually dragging the mouse downward so as to exit the helpful little program. And as her eyes often did when it came to small things, they locked onto the pointer with almost amusing focus as it tracked downward and through the alphanumeric sea of logs, her mind registering each little change it passed over. She gave them little thought, for the most part – if there was a problem, they’d be colored red, after all. But that didn’t stop her from processing what each entry was for.

No, what stopped her in this little journey was a perfectly innocuous little entry from just a few hours prior. It was one that caused her breath to catch, her eyes to squint, her mouth to dry. That can’t be right, Melody thought while rereading and reprocessing, trying to grasp what she was looking at, why it existed, what it might mean. And soon enough, her gaze shifted downward to the little capsule resting before her, and its occupant. Her attentions did not go unnoticed, and the smile that appeared on his little face threatened to melt her.

“Corey?” she questioned, almost without realizing it, while what she had just read caused a slight quaver. And Corey did two things, then, amidst an almost smothering silence that had seemed to overtake the office. The first was that he readjusted himself in his bed, turning himself so he could look at his back. At the screen. And he did that for more than a little bit of time.

The second was that he turned to face her once more, that friendly smile wiped from his face as if it had never existed.

 

“Melody-”

“Stop.” That one little word boomed and thundered across Corey’s entire being. His jaw shut, tightened. His eyes, half-closed at first, jolted fully open, fixating upon the deliverer of that powerfully delivered syllable, her face hovering hundreds of feet away. Not out of fear – never that, never of her. Nor did that voice seek to ignite any such feeling within him – it had delivered its word emphatically, not harshly, with just enough strength to halt his words, and nothing more.

Anything beyond that had been a simple coincidence of scale.

“Before you start, I just want you to know that…I’m not angry with you, Corey, or…or anything like that. Not at all. I just want you to know that.”

Corey knew. Even before she had given voice to the fact. There had been no anger upon her beautiful visage, not when she had discovered his deceitfulness. Nor through the time that had proceeded it, as the work day had finished and the two had headed to her home. Even the silence that had overtaken them – by his own request, admittedly, as he had not wanted to discuss the matter where listening ears might catch on – had been devoid of any such feeling.

“And I know that you must have reasons for doing what you did. I can even…make some guesses about them, and maybe they’d be accurate. But I’m not going to force them out of you. I would never, ever do that. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s…that’s fine. We don’t have to. But I would really, truly love it if we did.”

“We can,” Corey answered immediately, earnestly. Enough so of the former that his girlfriend actually seemed a bit taken aback by it, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head, asking if she had gone too far with that last comment…if maybe he now felt that he did have to talk about it. It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate thought on her part: He did have to talk about it. But he had reached that conclusion almost immediately upon seeing her face, when she had found his tampering. Found that he had abused his interface privileges with her computer to reset his bath times to the default. That he had done so with deliberate calculation, knowing full well that such a time coincided perfectly with the shower she would take upon returning home so as to neatly avoid any trouble. It had not been an angry one, no, but that did not mean it had been a face without emotion.

It didn’t mean that his actions hadn’t hurt her. And for that reason alone, Corey felt a complete lowness about himself that had rarely been matched in his life. All that considered…sharing his thoughts felt like the best possible apology he could give.

“Want to move over to the bed, then?” Melody asked quietly, a hand lifting over the edge of the dresser his own bed currently rested on. An action of habit.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

To that, Melody graced him with a smile as soft as her voice, and in no time his metallic shell of a bed found itself parted from the dresser, pinched with care between two opposing cliff faces. A short journey followed the shorter lift, and the mattress of Melody’s bed soon creaked as she lay her weight upon it, and her mountainous form stretched along its length. He, too, came to rest once more, his bed being softly deposited upon the back of her opposing hand, to be held before her beautiful amber eyes as the Omega propped her back up against the headboard.  Silence surrounded them for a time, with Corey not quite certain where to start. How to start.

When Melody broke the silence herself, he was more than a little bit thankful.

“So at the very least, I’m guessing you don’t want to go to the party tonight?”

“No,” he responded after a small, exasperated snort, “no, no I don’t.”

“When did you…decide on that? You seemed excited about it at first. Or were you…I mean…”

“Last night was when I really decided on it,” Corey interrupted, causing Melody’s shifting eyes to settle once more. “And I was excited about it. I honestly was. Then I…wasn’t.”

“What changed?” Melody inquired softly, voice more like a breath. Uneasy. Fully cognizant, Corey noted, that those two words would give way to the real issue at hand.

“I started thinking,” he continued, wetting his lips, shifting his eyes just a little as he found the words, “about things. A lot of things. Some that have been bothering me for a while.”

“Like what?” the Omega asked, and it was no trouble at all for the little Beta to notice her eyes widen in slight alarm that something was bothering him, as well as with a desire to know what.

“There’s…well, there’s going to be a lot of people there. I’ve seen the list, I recognize a lot of them…I know several. Kyle and his parents, Jenna and hers, you and yours. Angela, Mr. Hart…you get the point. A lot of people.”

“A lot of people that care about you,” Melody added quickly, and how immediately that had been offered brought a small smile, however sad it was, to his lips. It was an offer of solace and calm that he appreciated.

“I know,” he continued, swallowing deeply in preparation as he continued to search for the words he needed. “Believe me, I know. But...but that’s half the problem, Mel. These are folks that I like a lot, that like me, too and…God, how to put this…I’ve known them for a long time. Some of them since I was a toddler. And I remember talking with them, having conversations with them. And that hasn’t been the case since I was put into this stupid thing. They all walk on eggshells around me now, like I can’t handle real talking, real interaction. Even Claire, ever since she scared me by accident the first day back. It’s...Melody, I haven’t had an actual conversation with anyone besides you in a month. And I know why they do it, that they just want me to feel safe and feel comfortable. But every time they even look at me, I can see it; in their eyes, their faces, their mannerisms. The pity. How sorry they feel for me.”

“And I can’t handle that, Mel. I can’t handle being completely surrounded by that. I can tolerate it when it’s just a couple of people, but all at once…I just don’t think I can do it.”

By now, Corey’s eyes had lost his love’s and found instead his own chest, gaze having sunken away words ago, and the fingers of his good hand clenched the safety strap pulled over his waist to the point of aching. He could practically feel his throat beginning to dry through the mounting anxiety, and the frustration that had spawned it.

“But that’s the lesser half of it, isn’t it?”

His hand clenched tighter momentarily, amplifying the pain. His sad, bitter little smile returned. She was so good at reading him when he was like this, he thought. So good at handling him without just handling him…at engaging him. He didn’t know what he’d have done without her for the past month. Didn’t want to know.

“That’s the truth,” he admitted, sucking on his bottom lip for a moment afterwards. “The funny thing is that I figure out that’s already bad enough. I’m mad because my friends are concerned about me, of all things. How shitty is that?”

“Very,” came the unexpected answer, and it was only the gentle breeze of a voice that the comment had been delivered in that kept Corey from collapsing in on himself. Instead, his gaze simply lifted once more, likely as intended, to be met with more soft words. “But you’re not mad at them for being concerned about you. I don’t think so, anyway. You’re mad because it’s been a month and you want normalcy again. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing.”

For a moment, Corey’s smile became a genuine one. He closed his eyes, nodded, and tried to apply Melody’s explanation as an internal band-aid. It made sense, he felt. Melody always made sense in these matters. It was nice.

“What was it that really tipped you over on this, Corey?” Melody asked, keeping the conversation going. Her gentle tones continued to apply no pressure, no demand. The young woman whose hand he rested on sought only understanding so as to help, and if he gave in to a rapidly rising inclination to draw into himself and end this talk, she would respect it as his right. It was a right he truly wanted to exercise in this moment, much as he had when he had made the decision to go behind her back on this matter. And while that particular want had won out the first time, it would not do so the second. It had been an error made in a panic, and he would not make it again. Not in the presence of those eyes that told him with so much love and caring that such a thing need not exist within him when in their presence.

“Well,” he started, finally removing his clenching hand from the strap and resting it on his stomach, “it kind of goes back to that guest list, I guess. I said…I said that I recognized a lot of the names on it, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Yeah, well,” Corey continued on, absent-mindedly tapping his fingers against his body at a slow yet increasing rate, “yeah, I recognize a lot of them. Either seen them before or…heard about them, in some cases. And a lot of them are…how to put…I mean they’re…they’re…”

His tapping fingers halted, instead opting to grab and clench at his wetsuit, and as the anxiety began to mount once more, his eyes yet again fell.

“They’re Alphas, Melody.” And at that, Corey was pretty certain he could have heard the lump that fell down Melody’s throat from an Omega household away.

“Corey,” she breathed, pausing while at a very apparent and very painful loss of words, “you know that-“

“I’m not talking about people like your dad or Mrs. Tricia or…or anyone like that,” Corey interrupted, as he had a sense as to where that was heading. A labored exhalation, stuffed with breath mints, washed over him on the back of the Omega’s hand as her remaining words disappeared into it. “I’ve known them for a long time. They aren’t the problem. Who I’m saying this about, or…or anything. They’re great. It’s all the others, Melody. I don’t know them.” Silence arrived again, save for Melody’s breathing as she processed that and tried to work her magic. Corey didn’t dare look up at her. He didn’t want to see whatever expression was likely on her face. It was a desire that increased as she finally broke the silence once again, her voice now decidedly less sure of itself than it had been the first time.

“Corey, there’s…there’s no one going to the party that would ever be anything less than…than kind to you. They wouldn’t ever even think of hurting you.”

“I don’t know that, Mel,” Corey said, head sinking just a little bit more as dull aches began to throb around his body. “I don’t know them.”

“Corey, we’re talking about people like…like Sean. I mean, he’s dating your sister and…”

“Melody-”

“And you know what he…what he did, right? For his sister. For Sarah. A lot of the Alphas going, they’re…they’re dedicated to the work.”

“I do, yeah. And I do know of them.”

The aching of his healing bones had done nothing but amplify, throbbing harder with each word and thought spared for the topic at hand. And for the life of him, Corey wasn’t certain if it was real or imagined. If his painkillers were cycling, or if his body was just remembering the extent to which it had been savaged by three strange faces.

“And that’s just it, Melody,” he croaked, finally looking up and into her now softly distressed features to find that, without him noticing it, his vision had somehow become blurry as his mind had been occupied by the pain. “I do know of them. But I don’t know them.”

It was with that emphasis that, even through blurry eyes, he could see the issue at hand fully click with the Omega. And for the first time he could ever recall, the perfect stability and balance of Melody King faltered with a momentary tremble that shook his world before his host brought it under control.

“Oh, Corey,” Melody murmured, as silence engulfed the two again. And despite still not having wiped his eyes, Corey could see it, as if it were a light cutting through a heavy fog. He could see that for once, she had no more words to give.

 

“Is that Jenna Reynolds barging into my house?”

The masculine voice that greeted Naomi – or, more specifically, her host – as the two returned to the comfortable chill of the Lindon household was soft and warm, with a pinch of playfulness that shone through the peculiarly low volume with which they had been delivered, joined by a clear affection for their target that was apparent even to the stranger that was essentially tagging along. It certainly hadn’t been what the captive Alpha had expected after spending the last several hours in the clutches of a girl who offered her nothing but an almost biting cold. So, Naomi figured she could be excused for being caught just a bit off guard when the open palm that carried her suddenly closed in upon her, fingers and palm colluding to seal her off from the outside world and its light, constricting her movements even as they mashed the two garment-laden paper bags that had rested at her sides into her.

“It’s Jenna Reynolds entering your house with prior invitation, actually,” Naomi’s temporary warden corrected, and even though it was muffled by several feet of flesh and bone, the entrapped girl couldn’t help but pick up on the return of that angelic bearing from earlier in the day. Of course, this also had to be paired with a sudden lurching of her stomach as gravity shifted and Jenna’s enclosed fist initiated a controlled plummet that came to a sudden, sharp halt. Her soft fingers unfurled hurriedly, leaving Naomi and her new clothes behind in a new, linty prison that the girl quickly realized to be the pocket of the Omega’s shorts. Her initial reaction was to stand, following Jenna’s hand in its ascent out of the cloth compartment, but such a thing was quickly squelched. The pad of Jenna’s thumb pressed roughly into her face suddenly, applying enough pressure to send her back into a sitting position, and lingering just a bit longer before eventually retreating. To make the point clear, Naomi realized, that she would not enter into this particular conversation.

As Jenna continued along with her forward gait, rocking Naomi with each step, something humorous must have been offered up to her in retort that couldn’t quite make it into Naomi’s temporary room. An amused little giggle erupted from above, a fountain of sweetness that seemed almost unnatural.

“I didn’t know you were at home to give one! I wasn’t expecting Claire to beat me back,” Jenna explained, voice crackling with amusement as the motions of her leg came to a halt. Another sudden plummet followed, grouped with a tightening of the pocket against Jenna’s thigh and a shift to more horizontal position Naomi thought that she must be kneeling.

“Well, you know Claire. Mention wanting a nap, mention us taking a diving trip…those steps suddenly reach a little bit further, a little bit quicker,” that masculine voice spoke again, now much louder and even clearer than it had been, despite some continued muffling. And while she had already been pretty sure who this kind voice belonged to, Naomi was now certain on the matter.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Jenna asked, and Naomi could hear the regretful cringe she must have exhibited in the woman’s voice.

“Oh, please,” the man countered, not taking the comment seriously in the least, “if I could sleep back when you girls used to stomp around the house, I can sleep through a door opening. I say I want to take a nap but my eyelids apparently have different plans, because it doesn’t seem to be happening.”

“Well, good, then,” Jenna responded, with suddenly much better humor. “So I take it that means I wouldn’t be bothering you at all if I gave you a welcome back?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to promise on that,” came the reply, “but I’d say give it a shot and let’s see how it works out.” Another little giggle followed.

“Welcome back, Mr. Lindon,” Jenna said, and for some reason finally hearing the name tied Naomi’s innards into a knot. “I’m glad the trip went well.”

“Thank you,” replied the identified patriarch will available warmth, “it really is good to be home again."

“And I know Claire’s glad for it. She’s missed you a lot.”

“I could tell,” Mr. Lindon said, voice rolling with a chuckle before tapering off rather tiredly. “How about you, Jenna?” he asked, amusement suddenly replaced by a certain seriousness and concern that seemed to command Naomi’s attention. “How have things been going?”

“They’ve been going, I guess,” Jenna answered after a brief pause, her peppy tones suddenly draining into somberness. “The day-by-day still isn’t the easiest. Some days are tougher than others. Because I think about him a lot still. But I’ve been getting along, I guess. As well as I can.” And to Naomi’s ears, those words were marked by a certain pitifulness that actually led the Omega’s passenger to take a deep, shamed swallow. The sense that she was eavesdropping on a delicate heart-to-heart began to press upon her, its weight doubled by the existence of a desire to know more in spite of that sense.

“That’s good,” replied the solemn voice of Mr. Lindon. “Jenna, you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, someone else, you can always come to me. I can always make time for that.”

“I know,” came the appreciative reply. “Thanks, Mr. Howard.”

“No need for that. I couldn’t offer anything less.”

“Still, thanks,” Jenna said, words now a little brighter. “Um, I should find Claire, I think. I’m supposed to help her set up for tonight.”

“That’s fine. She’s in her room finishing up with something with one of our…guests, I believe,” Mr. Lindon calmly informed, earning a small twitch from Naomi. If Claire was finishing something, it was probably with Stephanie simply because it was too early for the towering Enforcer to be “finishing up” with Marion.

A few moments more, a few more pleasantries exchanged to lighten things up, and gravity asserted itself upon Naomi again as her carrier stood. The pocket once more went vertical, and again Jenna’s legs began to work, carrying the two away from where the diminutive father of her victim and her warden had been resting. He sounded so sweet, Naomi thought. So supportive. Idly, her fingers clenched at the handles of her bags. Nothing like…

“Hey girl!” Jenna suddenly exclaimed, with an enthusiasm that a slightly startled Naomi couldn’t help but feel was a little forced.

“Hey,” Claire replied, voice absent even that and not at all what Naomi was expecting given current goings-on. And clearly, Jenna agreed.

“Is something wrong?” she asked for both of them, concern clear. “Something happen?”

“Yeah,” Claire started, “we’re gonna be…where’s Naomi?”

“Oh, right.”

Beams of fluorescent light fell into the dark depths of Jenna’s pocket as the Omega’s fingers forced it open, though they were soon cut off by her invading hand. Once more, Naomi entered into her grasp, and was shifted about and pressed uncomfortably within it as Jenna’s fingers worked to gather both her and the shopping bags within their coils. Within seconds she found herself sitting upon Jenna’s open palm, being presented as if she were a borrowed accessory being returned to its owner. Its fairly displeased owner, if the expression on Claire’s face was any indicator. Sitting legs crossed upon her neatly made bed, the young Enforcer looked outright dejected.

“So what happened?” Jenna questioned, dumping Naomi off onto the newly offered hand of her true warden. The fall was short, only about a foot, and comfortably padded. Claire’s fingers caged around Naomi on apparent reflex as the Alpha resumed her sitting posture, bags held close to her side.

“I just got the off the phone with Mellie,” Claire informed her questioning friend. “We’re gonna be short a couple of guests tonight. Apparently she forgot to change up Corey’s bath schedule. Got home, took a shower, and by the time she was out he was pretty much right in the middle of his own.” That her words dripped with a little more bitterness with each passing syllable was not a fact that was lost on Naomi. Nor was the fact that the Omega’s eyes had briefly shifted upon her as she had spoken of the restorative process her brother was now subject to, effectively stabbing the prisoner with a fresh pang of guilt.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish,” Claire replied, fidgeting enough in frustration to sway Naomi about. “That’s, like, half the point of this thing gone now.”

“Ah, come on,” Jenna consoled, plopping down on the bed next to her friend and wrapping an arm around her neck in a friendly side-by-side embrace. “It’ll still be a fun night. And at the very least I’m sure your dad could use it. He looked a little drained out there.”

“I guess,” Claire conceded, displeasure and annoyance still clear. “I just can’t believe Mellie forgot to change the timer.”

“She has been super busy lately,” Jenna offered. “Sometimes a little mess-up happens. Even Melody can’t be perfect all the time. So how ‘bout we put girlie here up and get to work? It’ll still be worth it.” After an exasperated exhalation that managed to be directed right onto Naomi, Claire offered a small nod to the suggestion.

“Alright, yeah, we can do that,” she stated rather blankly. “Could you go pull out the platters? I need to get Naomi situated real quick.”

“Absolutely,” Jenna agreed, emphasizing it with a tightening of her embrace that served to both comfort her friend and jostle the Alpha occupying said friend’s palm before pulling away, leaving Naomi alone with her currently moody caretaker. Now the sole possible recipient for her attentions, Claire’s eyes fell upon her once more, thankfully lacking in the inherent accusation that had accompanied that earlier reflexive glance. Another lukewarm gust forced itself down upon her, and Naomi shifted awkwardly at this repeated sign of irritation.

“Get everything you needed while you were out?” Claire asked, and once more Naomi was made aware of a forced lightness being imposed upon a person’s words, amplified by the presence of a rather fake-looking smile. “Things go fine with Jenna?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Naomi replied shyly, hoisting her bags up just a little emphasize the spoils that had been picked out for her by the escorting Omega.

“Good. Naomi?”

“Ma’am?”

“Would you mind doing a favor for me tonight?”

“A favor, ma’am?”

“Just Claire for right now, Naomi,” the Enforcer remarked. “It really would be a favor to me. I’ll show you.” The gloomy Omega shifted about, uncrossing her legs before steadily dismounting from her bed, holding Naomi steady in her palm through each movement. A couple of steps saw Alpha and Omega overlooking the row of transparent cells that had served as home to Naomi and her fellows for the past month, and it wasn’t really a challenge for the prisoner to see that something had changed within her own area. Numerous things, in fact. Additions. A small, half-width divider had been inserted, blocking off the amenities from immediate view from the beds on the opposite side. “Beds,” too, was new. Another one had been added, parallel and a few feet from her own. And laying upon it in a heap, face buried in the pillow, was Stephanie.

“What….” Naomi started, somewhat confused, Claire interrupted.

“We had a very nice talk earlier,” the Omega informed her, piquing Naomi’s attention in multiple ways. “She’s been like this since, and I don’t really want to leave her alone right now. So, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind rooming with her for tonight.”

“Not…not at all, ma’a-Claire,” Naomi murmured, feeling like she couldn’t quite refuse. Not because the arrangement had already been set up, no. Just the mere sight of her hurting friend down below immediately tugged at her. Stephanie hadn’t been the warmest person in the world over the years, but…well, whenever Naomi had needed a strong shoulder to cry on, Stephanie had always been willing to provide. It was why she had been so willing to take her friend into her embrace a month before, enduring the girl’s biting teeth in the process.  Why she had felt compelled to share what she knew of her broken friend’s history.

“Thanks,” Claire said, some genuine feeling in her expression of gratitude. “I really do appreciate it.” With that, Claire began to lower her into the enclosure, paying much more heed to the effects of gravity than Jenna had. Naomi soon stepped off onto the tar-black floor, bags in tow. It took only a few strides for her to reach the foot of Stephanie’s bed on the way to her own, and her presence did not go unnoticed. Stephanie’s prone form jerked about, her face looking up from the pillow, and the girl’s red, raw eyes and nose were immediate attention grabbers that stopped Naomi in her tracks, even though the face soon returned to the pillow.

“I’m going to be a little busy for the rest of the night,” Claire informed them as she continued to kneel just outside the enclosures, while Naomi took a seat at the foot of her own bed, “but before the party starts I’ll bring some dinner for you two. I had something special ordered for you girls, I hope you like it. It’s a lot better than the usual. I wanted to do a little something more for your two tonight, to show how proud I am of you.” The words were kind. Uplifting, even.  But even know Naomi could tell that the Omega wasn’t fully over the news of her brother’s absence from the night’s events. That she was still having to force positivity. Even still, Naomi yelled a couple of words of gratitude upward at the dejected woman, earning yet another forced smile in return.

“Alright then, I need to go get things set up. Either of you need anything before I head off? I’m not going to have much time when I come back with dinner later, so if you need something, now’s the time to tell me.” For her part, Naomi gave a clear shake of her head. Nothing she might need came to mind. Her ears picked up a brief jerking from Stephanie, and not much else. “Okay, then,” Claire continued after giving the two another moment, “I’ll see you two again in a little bit.”

The Omega rose, as she had done so many times before at this point, once more asserting her full stature. Somehow, watching Claire ascend continued to wow her even now. The Omega gave them one last little look before pivoting on her heel, and Naomi fell backward onto the cool, comfortable surface of her bed. Fell, and then shot straight back up.

“Claire!” shrieked a harsh, raspy voice from right next to her, and Naomi wasted no time in following it to its source. To Stephanie, who was now sitting up, looking up at the towering woman who had halted in place at her name to look back down at the manic girl who had suddenly called her.

“Stephanie?” Claire questioned, clearly curious about what had prompted that call. Naomi’s friend did not answer, instead continuing to simply lock eyes with their captor. She was taking deep, almost gasping breaths, and doing so rapidly. As if the very act of calling up to their warden had instigated a panic attack that had sealed her thoughts. But Claire was patient, continuing to wait, allowing Stephanie some chance to communicate what she apparently wanted. It was a patience that was rewarded as, after several long seconds, Stephanie’s right hand slowly began to rise, a single finger outstretched. Pointing toward her own ear.

It earned her an inquisitive lifted eyebrow from Claire, who knelt once more outside their pen while bringing a grasping hand toward the attention-seeking Alpha. Naomi watched in silence as Claire’s fingers wrapped around her friend, fetching her from the bed and lifting her into the air. Exactly to where Stephanie had requested, next to the Omega’s ear. Naomi simply sat in silence; watching, wondering. Especially as Claire’s lips began to slowly curl upwards into a smile.

A genuine one. Without the slightest bit of force. 

 

“Wow, you’re looking great tonight.”

Well, that wasn’t quite what Abby had been expecting when she had volunteered to answer the doorbell’s summons. Or when she had actually opened the door, for that matter. It certainly hadn’t been a comment she might expect from the young man currently standing before her exposed toes, bottle of champagne in-hand as his neck concluded craning to give him a nice little look at the arched eyebrow focused in his direction.

And from the way Sean Morrison’s eyes proceeded to bulge as he mouthed a horrified little “oh”, Abby had the sinking suspicion that she wasn’t alone in facing something rather unexpected in the moment. Which, in her current mood, she supposed was a bit too bad for her newest guest

“And you’re being rather forward,” Abby remarked seriously, letting her arched brow fall into a squinting rest. Her right hand, resting as it was at her side, began to rise, open palm gliding over the material of her dress until its rather deliberate journey came to an end against her hip. The rapidly reddening face below was really all the encouragement she needed to keep going, and her other hand rose in just as deliberate a motion until it was soon covering her heart. And for good measure, she let her features soften. Just a bit. “And while I deeply appreciate the compliment, I don’t think this is the best night for it.”

“No…I….ah”, the Alpha sputtered, his embarrassment clearly squelching any anything potential coherence. Abby was also fairly certain a swear had rounded the attempt out.

“I mean, what would Claire think if she heard you?” she asked, earning a delightful little flinch that paled in comparison to the one soon to follow. “Or my husband, for that matter? I am a married woman, you know.”

At this point, the young Aegis intern was so red that Abby internally wondered if his head might be about to pop. It was really fairly adorable, and the sight of it threatened to bring a real smile to her lips for the first time during this little gathering. Another first for the night was an actual fond recognition of something from years past, however tainted it was by the actual events that had surrounded it. The image of a little thirteen-year old Sean being carried into the Facility, cupped gently in her daughter’s hands, and overtaken by a redness that he was currently doing his level best to match. Honestly, she was a little tempted to press just a bit further, just to see if he could manage to actually top it. A slight bit of revenge for reminding her of how time had stopped.

“It’s good to see you again, Sean,” Abby stated genuinely, teasing complete, and she could practically hear the “thank God” that had so very clearly mentally accompanied his relieved sigh. “I’m glad you could make it.” Sean was, ultimately, a good kid. Better than most of his kind. A fact he had proven at cost years ago. And so, she figured, that could earn him a few leniencies here and there. After her need for amusement had been sated, of course. Something he was polite enough to continue doing as he fumbled around briefly with a flustered jumble of apologies, greetings, and words of gratitude for the welcome. All the while, focusing dead ahead of himself as he made every effort to regain his bearings.

“So, want to come in, or are we being content to just stare?” Abby gently chided, giving her toes a little wiggle and allowing her lips to form a little grin as Sean’s face craned immediately upwards yet again.

“Come in. I’d like to come in. Please,” he machine-gunned out, his hurry continuing to entertain.

“Then I suppose you’ll be needing a lift?”

“Uh, yes ma’am. Please. Um…Dr. Howard isn’t, uh, up there, is he?” To that, Abby just continued to grin, and gave a little side-eye to her unoccupied shoulder. Granted, Sean wasn’t exactly privy to that little detail from his vantage point at her doorstep. “Ah, shit.”

“He’s not, Sean. You got lucky,” Abby informed. And he had. Howard normally would have accompanied her, but he was currently engrossed in conversation with Greg and David. And he absolutely would have gotten a kick out of the whole thing had he been present, and likely wouldn’t have been able to look at his daughter’s hapless friend without laughing for the rest of the night. The relief on Sean’s face, of course, was nearly palpable, and Abby nearly snorted as he looked up at her with a face that was practically begging for an end to its owner’s torment. Still pining for another drink, the Omega decided to oblige – for now – and slowly knelt down. With careful quickness, she moved a hand toward her guest, palm parallel to the ground and fingers splayed. The Alpha slipped between her index and middle fingers, and like a pair of scissors they closed in, just tight enough to hold him securely. With a practiced fluidity, her wrist twisted, and as her palm changed facing, her pinning digits curled inward, and deposited Sean feet-first onto her open palm before releasing and letting him be. He quickly took a seat, champagne bottle clutched protectively against his stomach.

“I really do hope that’s not a gift for me, by the way” Abby stated, with good humor abound in her voice as she stood up, closing the door behind her as she stepped back into her home. “And that someone besides you bought it.”

“Oh, uh, no ma’am. Sorry. It’s not. I didn’t. Sarah sent it. For Dr. Howard.” This rapid-fire method of response really was amusing Abby a bit too much as she delicately pinched the little glass bottle between her fingers.

“Well in that case,” she started, while walking softly through the den in her approach to Claire’s little but boisterous group in the dining room, “I’d say your sister made a great choice, and would ask you to thank her for it.”

“Now,” Abby continued, a little bit of devilry returning to her as she halted next to her daughter at the head of the table. A wide, radiant smile greeted the two of them, though Claire’s attention was truly only focused on one of them. Abby smiled, too. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell Claire what you told me?”

And it was with that little suggestion Abby was almost positive that she heard the heart of the young man occupying her palm come to a pounding halt.

 

“Now, let me hear that primary rule again.”

“Don’t dictate, facilitate.”

“Again. With more enthusiasm and without the boredom.”

“Don’t dictate, facilitate!”

“One more time.”

“Don’t dictate, facilitate!”

“Better,” Jenna Reynolds noted, allowing Naomi an exhalation of relief as her fingers kneaded into the twice peachy palm whose cupped form she current occupied. “I’ll hope that you’re more genuine with it when you’re actually on the job, though. Attitude is half of the work, and if you can’t be enthusiastic then the kids won’t be either.”

“I...I will be,” Naomi responded meekly. “It’s just…you’ve had me repeat it a lot…”

“And I can almost promise you that you’ll have to repeat a lot to your group because, you know, kids,” Jenna commented rather simply. “Be patient and roll with it. Again, this is half the job.”

Naomi nodded, not altogether unaware that the woman holding her was very obviously practicing what she was preaching in her calm, if sharp, lessons. The treatment was at least more preferable than the hot fury she had come to expect from the domineering young woman, even if it was ultimately no less degrading nor even for her own benefit. Already she was yearning for the return of Claire’s upbeat presence, but that was…very unlikely. While she had accompanied the two partly through their journey to the museum, feeding encouragement to Naomi all the while, Claire had eventually broken off to take care of some type of errand elsewhere, a spring clearly in her step.

To top it off, though, was the fact that she’d be spending the weekend at Jenna’s thanks to Claire going on a small vacation. And while assurances had been made in regards to her treatment, she was still nervous and still vividly recalled her past experience in Jenna’s grip.

“You didn’t forget your mints, did you?” Jenna suddenly inquired in an overbearing tone that just reinforced Naomi’s current read of her. “Or you lotion?”

“No, I have them,” she responded, reaching into the pockets of her crimson blazer and fetching the circular disk that housed the breath-freshening tablets and the travel-sized bottle of apricot-scented hand lotion that rested within them, presenting them timidly to the Omega for quick inspection before returning them to their respected confines. A wave of spearmint promptly overtook her, a result of the sharp sigh passing through the oversized lips above her.

“Alright, then,” Jenna continued, a clear hint of resignation slipping into her peaceful tones, “I guess this is it.” The words were coupled by a sudden of floating of the Alpha’s stomach as the Omega knelt at the side of the museum, where the staff and volunteer entrance awaited. “This should go without saying, but don’t make Claire regret giving you this opportunity. Be careful with everyone, you partner included. Beyond careful, really. And always pay be paying attention. To everything. Be nice. Be patient. Be enthusiastic. And above all else when you’re handling your group…”

“Don’t dictate, facilitate,” Naomi responded immediately and, this time, with genuine sweetness as she started to psyche herself up. She could do this. All of this. More than anything, she wanted to. Had to. If ever she was going to look into a mirror and feel anything but disgust again.

“Good,” Jenna stated as the hand that held her began to lower to the sidewalk, allowing Naomi to disembark from flesh to concrete. “Go right into that door, and the security guard there will point you to the meeting room. Your supervisor will be waiting there, along with all of the volunteers. Melinda will take care of you from there, got it?” Naomi nodded up to the kneeling woman, who took one last long, piercing look down at her before sighing again and rising up once more. “I’ll be here to pick you up when you get off, then we’ll head home. And stop looking like that when I mention our arrangement. You’re gonna be bored. That’s about the worst you should expect, so stop thinking about it.” Naomi nodded again, though Jenna didn’t seem inclined to believe that those words had worked.

“Oh, Naomi?” the Omega’s voice suddenly called just as she had turned and reached for the door’s handle, causing her to look back and up at Jenna’s face and the playful little smirk had formed upon it. “Something else that should go without saying…if you go to the bathroom, for the love of God wash your hands after the fact. ‘K?”

“R-right,” Naomi sputtered out as embarrassed heat overtook her face, a snort of laughter thundering above her as she turned her reddened face away and took a few hurried steps into the building with the door closing gently behind her. She could swear she heard an exasperated sigh pass through with her, and if she were any less nervous, she might be inclined to believe that Jenna had simply attempted to lighten the mood with a joke.

“Naomi Sung, I take it?” an amused masculine voice inquired shortly enough, and Naomi lifted her eyes from her feet to the security station directly in front of her. The uniformed man stationed there, seemingly the age of her father, had a smile that matched as voice tone as he looked over his desk at her, having clearly overheard. Behind him, all manner of monitors were alight with various scenes within and outside the building.

“Y-yes, sir,” she responded, attempting to compose herself. “How did-“

“You’re the only worker an Omega would be bringing in today,” he offered softly, and the fading redness in Naomi’s face made a return along with the facing of her eyes toward her feet. “Anyway, you’ll want to just keep heading down the hallway. Take the first right you see, and then the meeting room will be the third door to your left.”

“Thank you,” Naomi murmured as she started shuffling her way through the halls. To her chagrin, the walk to the room through the fluorescent halls was not a particularly long one and her red face had only barely begun to recover by the time she found her destination. Behind the wooden door she could hear a number of people laughing and cutting up, which was soothing in its own way. She hadn’t heard a sound quite like it in a month, after all.

Not even at the mixed mall, she recalled sadly, the surprisingly sparse center she had visited the day before flashing through her mind along with the curt answer Jenna had given her upon Naomi commenting on how decidedly…un-busy it had been. But…that was she was here to fix. Hopefully. So with a deep breath and a nervous smoothing of her crimson skirt, Naomi reached forward and gave the golden doorknob a turn.

She wasn’t sure what she expecting as she stepped into the rather spacious room – she supposed she was expecting the cheery proceedings to grind to an awkward halt as she entered, for all the eyes within to turn to her with contempt and disdain.

The only thing that changed was that the conversations became louder, and while she noted a few eyes turn her way, they didn’t linger long. Gently closing the door behind her as she took a few tentative steps inward, Naomi found herself once again appreciative of what was before her. All of the Alphas present – at least a couple of dozen of them – had a Beta seated comfortably upon their shoulders as they all conversed in their assorted groups. It was very…serene, she supposed, looking at all these people that seemed to be friends.

As her eyes continued to sweep over the assembled persons before her, they soon locked with those of a wheat-haired woman standing near a podium toward the back of the room. An already-present smile grew wider, and the woman moved closer with a peppy, confident stride.

“You must be Naomi,” she stated perkily, offering a well-manicured hand to her that Naomi meekly received with her own. “Either that or I was given a wrong picture.”

“I am,” Naomi answered, more nervously that she’d have liked as they shared a short, gentle handshake. “Would you be…Ms. Melinda?”

“Not quite,” she replied with a happiness and good humor that was already proving to be contagious, and Naomi felt a smile appear on her face and the nervousness begin to fade, if only just a bit, even as some slight confusion hit her at that particular answer. “No “Ms.” Involved. It’s just Melinda.”

“Ah…okay.”

“It’s great to have you with us,” Melinda continued on, brushing past Naomi’s confusion. “We don’t usually get someone assigned to us so…early in their sentence. You must have made quite the impression on your warden to be cleared so soon.”

“I…I don’t really think so,” Naomi stated, the solemn words slipping out before she had even really registered them. Her body being honest, she thought.

“Really?” Melinda asked with a confused tilt of her head.

“Yeah. She just…cleared me. I wasn’t really expecting it, but I was-“

“Hoping for it?” Melinda cut in, her cheer softening just a bit with something that was more like...

That couldn’t be it, Naomi thought, though she did nod in agreement with the older woman’s guess.

“Well, I’ll say that the fact that you’re here now tells me you probably had the right kind of hope,” Melinda commented warmly, placing a hand on Naomi’s shoulder that made the girl feel as if she’d melt. “But I suppose we’ll see that for ourselves. Right now, though, we need to get started. Ready to meet your partner?”

“Y-yes!” Naomi replied with an eager nod and smile, earning herself a small snort from her supervisor.

“Well, all right then. Right this way.”

Together, the two deftly maneuvered across the room and between the various talkative groups that littered it. Not forgetting the lengthy lectures both Claire and Jenna had given her, she was especially attentive so as to avoid bumping into any of the occupied Alphas and potentially cause an incident involving the Betas seated comfortably upon the shoulders of the various men and women. More than once she caught one of them moving slightly from her path – hers, not Melinda’s, she easily noticed that – so as to limit the possibility even further.

“She just got here right before you did, actually. Just got her checked in when you walked in,” Melinda noted as they approached the podium, and a small band of chuckles erupted from her. “Probably a good thing she hasn’t had a chance to mingle yet, honestly, I don’t think we’d get through to her otherwise.”

Naomi just nodded. Was her partner popular or something, then? Honestly, as they approached and began to round the podium, she was more than a bit nervous. She had no idea what her partner was like, what she thought of being partnered with…with someone who had done what Naomi had. How she would feel about her, or act. Truth be told, she had no idea as to what to expect. The last day had been such a blur that she hadn’t even thought about the matter until now. But with each microsecond that passed, her anxiety grew and multiplied, until soon she was expecting the worst.

Which was why the cheery, affable little voice that suddenly rang up to her came as such a shock.

“Oh, hey there!” it called, with an energy that Naomi doubted its owner could possibly be…well, who it must be, as her eyes darted to the greeting’s source. Reclining along the incline of the podium, dressed in a crimson pantsuit matched with her own ensemble and wearing a smile that contrasted beautifully with her dark brown skin while putting Melinda’s cheery showing of teeth to shame was a girl. A Beta. Her age, maybe just a little older, and holding a tablet that soon found itself hugged to the girl’s chest with her left arm.

“Hi,” Naomi responded simply to the peppy greeting even as the girl’s right hand reached upward. Towards her. Open as if to receive something. Naomi just stared blankly for a moment at the little appendage, unsure of herself, until it finally hit her. Gingerly, with more care than she was sure she had ever displayed before, she brought her own right hand to bear against the little woman, at least in part. Extending her index finger, the nervous Alpha carefully maneuvered it into an attempt to dock its tip with the offered hand. And she almost did. But she just…couldn’t quite do it. As the fingertip halted mere millimeters away from her apparent partner’s hand, she found she couldn’t move it any further.

This wasn’t a doll. This wasn’t training. This was a Beta. A real, live Beta, with real, live consequences should she err; should she hurt her. Like what she had done that last time she had touched a Beta. Like what she had done to Claire’s brother…to Corey. And she knew from that how easy it would be. To hurt her. And…and she didn’t want to do that. Not again.

This was a bad idea she thought to herself, her doubts becoming palpable weight inside her gut. This was a bad idea. She wasn’t ready for this. Hadn’t earned this. She should just tell Melinda that it would be best for her to be sent back to Claire, to continue with her current sentencing, because she just wasn’t-

“Making me work for it, huh?” that voice spoke up again, this time imprinted with more than a little good-natured teasing. The sheer energy of it served to draw Naomi from her thoughts, but it was what accompanied it that washed them away. A little presence at the tip of her finger, so very light but with a power that seemed impossible. She didn’t know what to think as she felt the woman’s arm begin to move – nor when her finger began to move with it, in perfect tune, as what felt like an electric tether guided her into shaking hands.

“Naomi, right?” she inquired, and Naomi could almost swear that some part of her actually felt honored that this smaller woman deemed to recognize her. So much so, at least, that she simply nodded dumbly in response. That in itself seemed to earn her a laugh from the Beta that seemed to reverberate inside her in spite of its volume.

“Well, Nay,” the young woman started, looking her square in the eyes with her own glittering brown set, “I’m Rachel Nichols. Let’s make this a great first day for you, ‘k?”

 

With a patience usually reserved for statues, Claire Lindon silently observed the poor girl currently standing motionless before her.   Stephanie’s raw eyes stared blankly forward, her mouth hanging open just a bit. It was clearly a struggle for her, actually looking upon the results of the request she had made to Claire the day before, and it evoked a sympathy that only served to reinforce the Omega’s diligence. They had been like this for at least five minutes now, by Claire’s counting. Her, knees resting on her bedroom floor, hand dipping into Stephanie’s enclosure with the upturned tip of her pointer finger offered politely forward. Stephanie, just standing there. Staring. Struggling.

And that was fine. Claire would give her all the time she needed, there was no immediate rush. She wasn’t due to leave for hours, after all, and her travel bag was already prepared. Had been since early morning. And she could frankly hold this position steady all day if she were so inclined. If she needed to. Looking at Stephanie’s eyes as they worked to dredge up more moisture to send rolling down the girl’s cheeks, she doubted such a need would arise.

Her doubts were reaffirmed as the fingers of Stephanie’s right hand, resting limply at her side, began to wiggle to life. And within another minute, Claire was watching with baited breath as that hand slowly rose, trembling from the maelstrom of emotions undoubtedly raging within its owner. As it eventually hung in the air, mere inches from her fingertip, grasping furtively at empty air. It was a struggle that almost broke her to witness, in more ways than one.

You can do it, Stephanie, Claire mentally coached, doing her best to maintain her unassuming composure. The last thing she wanted was for Stephanie’s eyes to momentarily dart upward just to feel as if she were suddenly under pressure – or worse – by whatever emotion had overtaken her. So she simply looked on, impartial, while inwardly anything but. Hoping to be relieved of this small item that carried so much weight.

And when it finally arrived, the moment where Stephanie’s fingertips glided along the glass that covered the object that inspired such trepidation, Claire almost wanted to squeal. When after a few probing, gentle strokes, that hand softly grasped the metal frame that marked the item’s edges, she wanted to smile. When those raw eyes finally managed to produce fresh tears as Stephanie herself lifted the little portrait from its ridged resting place, pulling it into a tight hug against her chest…well, she could only hold back a smile for so long, really.

So she smiled and said nothing, not at all eager to intrude on Stephanie’s moment.  In silence, she welled with an almost unmatched pride in her smaller charge. She had hoped so much that there would be more forward steps to come after yesterday’s first, but this second one had come far sooner than she ever could have imagined for a person that had been so…corrupted by the little beast that sat an enclosure away. Claire found herself fighting once more, this time to push any thoughts of her third charge far to the wayside. Thoughts of her vile worldview and poisonous tongue that even now refused to utter a single word that didn’t drip with filth. Of how utterly unapologetic she remained. Thoughts of the first practice doll she had been given, being swallowed into the porcelain mouth of the enclosure’s toilet, soaked in excrement as its recipient had looked defiantly upwards, a sneer on her face.

No, she wasn’t worth thinking about right now, Claire decided. Not today, when there was so much to be happy about, and she merrily pushed those heated memories aside. Naomi was starting her volunteer work, the largest step she had made so far toward giving back in the wake of what she had done. Claire had seen who Jenna had picked to be the girl’s partner, and couldn’t have been happier at seeing that particular name. And now Stephanie was embracing a delightful family photo, fetched at her own request. The look on Janet Bowman’s face when Claire had gone to collect it…God, it had been something else.

She was proud of these two girls. Immensely. Proud, and thankful for their forward motion. So much was attached to it, for the both of them, not the least of which was that as long as it continued, they could be spared some of what their actions had bought. Not all of it, but…some, eventually coming out the better for it. And that was good, she decided, as Stephanie marched listlessly back to her bed, picture still in a firm embrace.

The less necessary they made the sessions, the better.

 

***

 

“…I just want to make sure no one’s forgetting anything.”

From his current position nestled in the fields of Melody’s upturned palm, Corey could practically feel the wince caused by the honey-coated barb his mother had launched her way. And while he couldn’t quite see it due to his current facing, he was sure an ashamed little blush had asserted itself upon her. Not that they hadn’t expected such a reaction to Melody’s fib, of course. To his mother, Melody’s supposed incompetence had gotten in the way of much-needed time with their now fully reunited family – especially with three of them preparing to journey elsewhere. But while the truth was a bit more complicated, and Melody far from incompetent, it still clearly stung the young woman to have her boss and mentor obviously think less of her. And it stung Corey in turn, as if a piece of that barb had broken off and headed just for him, to be the cause of such a thing.

“I really am sorry about what happened yesterday,” Melody offered apologetically, driving the barb in just a bit further. It may have been Melody’s decision to personally take the blame and therefore the consequences for something that hadn’t actually happened, but it had been for his sake and that of his wishes for those girls that she had done so. That much wasn’t lost on him, and while he wasn’t quite sure how yet, he was going to thank her for it.

“Oh, dear, it’s fine,” his mother consoled with a tone that, coupled with a sharp downward glance in his direction, said that it was anything but. “Sometimes mistakes just happen, and it’s a learning experience for everyone when they do.” When one her hands reached over him, a great bronze bridge between the two colossi as it rested upon Melody’s shoulder, he half expected a sheet of ice to form from the contact.

He was thankful for the arrival of a little bit of warmth.

“Hey! We all ready to go?”

Sidling up to her mother and friend with an upturned palm of her own, Claire was all smiles. His sister had been in an absolutely radiant mood all morning, and currently she seemed intent on using that to defuse this particular bit of awkwardness. Her attitude was something he was more than thankful for, really. He’d frankly feared that she would be just as put off by his and Melody’s story as their mother had been. Though he supposed her own little trip with their dad might be mitigating any such feelings to quite a spectacular degree.

“Mmhm,” Melody confirmed, and somewhat meekly at that, flicking a thumb over the strap of the oversized duffel bag hanging from her shoulder. When Claire’s eyes found him, he gave his own little pat to the much lighter and much less impressive bag resting on his stomach.

“Then perhaps we should get going?” a quieter, but very familiar voice cordially suggested. “A thunderstorm’s rolling in later and I for one do not want to get caught up in it.”

“Oh, please, Daddy,” Claire replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “What’s a thunderstorm gonna do?”

“Make us very, very wet? And you two very, very electrified?” Corey offered, earning a snicker from his bigger sibling as she casually reached her hand toward him, finger outstretched.

“He’s right,” Howard Lindon commented rather simply as he strode along the length of his daughter’s finger, right up until he reached the end and stepped off gracefully onto the side of Corey’s Chamber, taking a seat on the attached platform. It hardly went unnoticed when their space suddenly got more crowded, as Claire and Abby both closed in on the now doubly occupied palm just a bit more. “And if my memory serves me correctly – as I think it does – you weren’t a big fan the last time that happened, Claire-bear.”

“I was like ten” Claire huffed, giving the impression that she was almost actually insulted. “I bet it wouldn’t even hurt now.”

“Well,” Corey started with a resigned shrug, “I’m willing to wait for her to test it out if she really wants to.”

“I can agree with that,” his father added with a grin. “How about you, Ms. King? Care to join her for it?”

“Pass,” Melody stated without hesitation, to Corey’s personal amusement.

“Looks like you’re on your own with it, then,” Howard informed his looming daughter, who at this point looked utterly displeased instead of just mildly insulted.

“Well, I mean, I don’t want to waste time just for the sake of it,” she excused, earning a snicker from both Lindon men. “I do wanna go for a quick swim when we get there.”

“Then I suppose you all best head out then,” Abby added, her brilliant blue eyes taking a sweeping glance over all involved parties, “because I don’t want any such test happening. Even by accident.”

“And I do expect you to keep up with the weather,” she added in that hallmark “suggestion as an order” way that only a mother could truly manage, a comment that couldn’t have been more obviously aimed at the girl currently holding the two Betas if she had tried. Corey grunted, earning a sidelong but silent glance from his father for his trouble.

Minutes passed, goodbyes were said, and soon enough the front door of the Lindon household opened to a beautiful summer day, with the promise of more to come as he and Melody journeyed to and through the lands she was do fond of. And that would be fun, wouldn’t it? Seeing new places, visiting friends? In the wake of his breakdown, Melody seemed more convinced than ever that this trip was something he needed, something that would help. He hoped she was right.

The two towering women broke off in their own chatter, while father and son did the same. It made Corey glad for the trip his father and sister had decided to take, and gladder still that their paths converged for this first leg of the rather sizable journey that awaited him and Melody. He was grateful for this chance to talk with the man, one he thought he had forfeited in his panicked retreat from the previous night’s festivities. It was an opportunity he wanted to enjoy.

That he was being rewarded for Melody’s sacrifice, though, was a feeling he could not shake; one that was much easier to hide from his parent than it was to let go.

 

***

 

As Abigail Lindon closed the door shut behind her departing loved ones, she couldn’t help the emergence of a drawn-out sigh of relief. That entire conversation had been one long, annoying struggle, and to say that she still felt bothered would be a severe understatement. Dealing with Melody had been a more unpleasant experience than she had imagined, keeping on track an exercise in frustration.

But she had had expectations to play to, and for Corey’s sake, she had done so, her penchant for feigning displeasure proving itself useful.

That Melody was lying on her son’s behalf was obvious. Had been obvious, since the moment Claire had naively passed along the news that Melody had “forgotten” to reschedule Corey’s treatment. And it wasn’t even just the fact that her apprentice didn’t just forget things like that, though Abby found herself impressed with the young woman’s otherwise convincing apologism.  At the very least, it was enough to lull her daughter into a certain contentment, which she assumed was the point.

No, it was her son’s lightless eyes at the previous day’s luncheon that had told Abby all she truly needed to know. Enough that she had not been surprised that something had coincidently gone wrong to prevent his appearance at the night’s gathering. For she had seen those eyes countless times before, and would see them countless times to come. Looking into the eyes of her brutalized son had been like looking into a mirror, reflecting all of the horror and darkness and fear that raged, both aged and new, within mother and son. It was a likeness that hitherto existed only in her nightmares, battling against her hopes that his eyes would remain bright and untainted. Like his father’s.

She had added to his burdens today, she knew that much. She had easily spied the guilt on his face as she had taken her little jabs at Melody. It was regrettable, but she had judged it necessary in order to play along and avoid suspicion that she was on to the two. Even if it meant lowering the esteem of a woman she was frankly nothing but impressed with and thankful for. Even if it meant momentary guilt on Corey’s part for, in his eyes, causing such a thing. These feelings would be temporary in the face of the true problems at hand, washed away upon the couple’s return to an Abby Lindon that had seemingly cooled off during their absence.

More important was Corey’s apparent desire to hide his damage from those around him, and Melody’s respect for her son’s wishes was something the weary Omega was thankful and grateful for. Abby was not surprised by this want of his, nor was she particularly flummoxed by it. Corey may have taken a step closer toward herself in terms of likeness, but he was still Howard Lindon’s son to the extreme. He was not stupid. He was not unaware of his influence. And above all else, he was not lacking in a selfless desire to see people become better. And as angry as it made her to think of her son putting himself through this hellish trial – for the benefit of the very same girls that had torn his world asunder! – she would respect this, too. Not just for his sake, but for that of his sister, as well.

For Kayla’s words on that inner force, the Fire, which sought to corrupt and pervert her daughter’s mind still rang clear as a bell in her thoughts. As much as Corey was his father’s son; then so, too, was Claire her father’s daughter. Howard’s daughter. And she would not see that be ruined. Would not stand for it. And if that meant feigning ignorance or annoyance or whatever else, she would do it. If it meant idly supporting the two girls that Claire had developed so much pride in, she would do it. The third girl was…her own thing, and Abby had developed her own private curiosities about her presence here over her month abroad that needed to be mulled over a bit more still before any action on her part.

And she would do these things because if Claire were to ever become aware of the damage that had truly been done to her brother, any defense against that thing’s horrific influence would be shattered like so much glass, making Corey’s wishes so much more important than even he truly understood.