Acheron glanced around the room, and he noticed that more than half the people there seemed lighter now. Softer even. Like the old man had reached inside them and untangled something. Everyone except Aviv.
Aviv looked worse.
Much worse.
His leg bounced relentlessly now, shaking against the floor in an uneven rhythm. His fingers rubbed over one another over and over, almost harshly, and his eyes—
His eyes looked distant and completely unfocused, like he wasn't in the room anymore.
Acheron's fingers tightened slightly around the lollipop stick. He had noticed Aviv's odd behaviour building slowly over the course of the meeting, but at this point, he could no longer ignore it.
Acheron reached his hand across the small space between them and slid it into Aviv's damp palm. Aviv's skin was clammy, and his fingers were cold. Acheron squeezed gently, hoping to offer some small measure of comfort.
What he didn't realise was that Aviv's nerves had nothing to do with the stories being shared around them.
Aviv had planned to speak today.
He cleared his throat softly.
The room quieted almost immediately.
Although Aviv had attended these meetings for years and had been sober even longer, he rarely shared more than a passing comment or short encouragement. Most people in the room knew him as the charming one. The one who could make people laugh between tears. The one who always seemed put together.
So when he seemed like he wanted to talk, people turned to listen. A few of the regulars shifted more comfortably in their seats, their attention settling fully on him.
Seconds passed, but Aviv remained still. If not for the way his grip on Acheron's hand kept tightening, Acheron might have thought the clearing of his throat had been accidental.
The silence stretched.
Someone shifted awkwardly in their chair.
At the front of the room, Trudy glanced toward Aviv, ready to gently move things along if he changed his mind.
Then Aviv finally spoke.
"I went to an all-Omega boarding school," he said quietly. "Out of the country."
His eyes stayed lowered toward the floor.
"My brother and I were both born dominant," he continued. "He was born an Alpha."
Aviv swallowed.
"And I was born an Omega." He shifted slightly in his chair, his hand slick against Acheron's but still holding on tightly.
"It was fine at first," His voice faltered briefly.
"But after my first heat..." He trailed off.
Aviv took a breath, gathering whatever courage he had left.
"For anyone who doesn't know," he said, "being a dominant Omega means your pheromones are stronger than normal. Much stronger."
He reached for the coffee beside him, taking a small sip to wet his throat.
"For an unbonded Omega, it can be dangerous," he continued quietly. "Not just for yourself but for everyone around you."
Acheron sat completely still beside him.
"A dominant Omega's pheromones can trigger other Omegas into heat," Aviv said. "And Alphas into their rut."
For the first time since he had started speaking, he glanced up. But his eyes still looked distant.
"My parents were worried, of course, and soon found a school that specialises in housing dominant Omegas..." A bitter edge slipped into his voice.
"They sent me away without thinking twice." He let out a small breath of frustration through his nose.
"The school had around five hundred students," he said. "Only three of us were dominant."
He looked down again.
"Their \textit{'professional'} and \textit{'specialised'} way of handling us," he said quietly, "was locking us in a cabin at the back of the school grounds whenever we went into heat."
A few people in the room shifted uncomfortably.
"It was in the woods," Aviv continued. "Far enough away that no one could get affected by us."
His voice felt thinner now.
"They would strap us to the beds so we couldn't leave before it was over." Aviv swallowed hard. Acheron's grip on his hand tightened instinctively.
"Most dominant Omegas have suppressants specifically made for them," he said. "These special formulas don't stop the heat completely, but they help."
He paused.
"For some reason..." His throat worked around the words. "The school doctor couldn't get mine to really work."
Aviv's fingers trembled slightly in Acheron's hand.
"I remember..." he said quietly.
Then he stopped.
His jaw tightened. He tried to clear his throat once.
Then once more.
It is as if the memory itself were trying to close around his airway.
"It was a Friday," Aviv said quietly. "About a week and a half before my next heat."
His gaze remained fixed somewhere near the floor.
"I was in the dorms with three of my friends. They were... normal omegas. We were talking about some stupid movie we wanted to watch the next day." For the briefest second, a small, sad smile touched his mouth.
"We were just talking." His fingers tightened around Acheron's hand.
"Then my heat came early." The smile vanished.
"Much earlier than it should have." He swallowed.
"My collar reacted immediately. It injected a new experimental batch of suppressants they had been testing on me, but..." Aviv's throat tightened. "It didn't work."
Acheron watched his jaw clench.
"Within minutes, my pheromones spread through the room." He looked down at his lap.
"All three of my friends went into heat, too."
The room remained painfully quiet.
"Luckily," Aviv continued, "most of the dorm floor was empty that afternoon. Otherwise..." He stopped himself, shaking his head once.
"The medical staff managed to get us out of the dorms and into the cabin." His fingers trembled slightly in Acheron's grasp.
"For my friends, it was their first time there." His voice softened." They were terrified."
Acheron felt something ache in his chest.
"I remember trying to calm them down," Aviv said. "I told them it would be okay. That we were safe."
A hollow laugh escaped him.
"It should have been safe," he muttered. His grip on Acheron's hand tightened again. He took a few slow breaths, then lifted his coffee and swallowed a mouthful, as though trying to force the words down.
"What we didn't know," he continued, "was that there had been rumours spreading in the town nearby."
His voice was flat now.
"About our school. About the cabin. And the omegas trapped inside."
Several people in the room shifted uncomfortably.
"A group of Alpha students heard about it," Aviv said quietly. "Five of them."
His eyes closed.
"They came looking for us."
Acheron's fingers curled tighter around the lollipop in his lap.
"They found the cabin," Aviv whispered.
The room seemed to hold its breath.
"And they walked straight into my pheromones." His voice cracked slightly.
"Within seconds, they went into rut."
Aviv already shut eyes, tightened for a moment. Afraid he would meet anyone's eye as his biggest shame was revealed.
"They broke the door down," he said quietly. "Some smashed the windows and climbed in through the broken shards."
His shoulders drew in tighter.
"We were strapped to the beds. We couldn't run," Aviv said. "We couldn't fight."
Acheron's stomach twisted violently.
"And by the second day of heat..." His voice grew smaller. "You're not really thinking clearly anymore."
Moisture gathered in Aviv's eyes. Acheron quickly reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a spare lollipop, unwrapped it carefully beneath his sleeve, and placed it into Aviv's hand. Aviv stared at it for a second before curling his fingers around the stick.
"The staff found us the next morning," he whispered.
The room had gone so quiet that even breathing sounded loud.
"They had to call Alpha special forces to separate everyone." Aviv looked down at the untouched lollipop in his hand.
"And after that..." He let out a shaky breath. "We-I was ruined."
Acheron's chest tightened painfully.
"Drugs made everything easier." Aviv's voice was softer now.
"I needed the silence it gave me. I needed the numbness." His fingers shook slightly.
"It was easier to feel nothing than... remember."
No one in the room moved, and no one interrupted.
"I only got help after one of the friends who was there that day..." His throat closed around the words.
"She killed herself."
The room seemed to freeze. Aviv stared down at his hands.
"My reasons for getting sober weren't noble," he admitted. "I didn't do it because I loved myself."
His voice wavered.
"I did it because I thought I deserved to suffer."
Acheron's grip on his hand tightened instantly.
"I thought her death was my fault," Aviv whispered. "That if I had never gone into heat early... if my pheromones had been normal..."
He shook his head.
"I thought I deserved to remember every second of it." His breathing grew uneven.
"I thought I deserved every painful thing that came after." He lowered his head.
"I thought forgetting was too kind."
For a moment, Aviv stared down at the untouched lollipop in his hand, his thumb brushing slowly over the round bulb as he gathered himself enough to continue.
"It was only after joining this group and listening to everyone else share themselves so openly that I slowly began to forgive myself," Aviv said. His voice had gone quieter now, stripped of its usual warmth and humour.
"I know I wasn't at fault," he continued, still looking down at his and Acheron's joined hands. "No matter what anyone says, I still had a part to play in what happened to us."
His fingers flexed once, then stilled again.
"But I no longer feel like I have to carry all of that guilt with me forever. I can let it go." He swallowed. "Or at least, a little more of it each day."
His voice broke softly on the last word.
A single tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away almost immediately, as if embarrassed by its existence. A few loose strands of hair had fallen across his face, clinging to his damp skin, but he didn't move to push them back. He just kept staring at their hands, as though he was afraid to look up.
The room stayed utterly still. As if, even breathing too loudly might disturb something fragile and sacred.
Then, slowly, one person began to clap.
This soon got joined by more clapping.
The sound spread through the room in soft waves, joined by murmurs of encouragement and quiet approval. It wasn't particularly loud or anything forceful. Just warm recognition, passed from one person to the next.
Trudy leaned back in her chair, a small smile forming on her face. She had watched Aviv grow. Watched him stumble, resist, return, and slowly begin to climb out of the darkness he had been carrying for so long.
Acheron turned toward Aviv and, without much hesitation, wrapped him in a careful hug. It was gentle, almost tentative at first, but full of feeling.
Trudy's smile widened. Matching the two of them together was the right decision. Even after Aviv had dismissed the idea so casually before, she had still known. And seeing the two of them now, folded into the same quiet moment of comfort, only confirmed it.
Acheron's fingers curled lightly into the fabric of Aviv's shirt, holding on in a way that was soft but certain.
When the room began to stir and people started gathering their things, Trudy made her way over to them at an unhurried pace, still wearing that same warm expression.
"Thank you for sharing, Aviv," she said, and then drew him into a brief hug of her own.
He didn't resist. He let her hold him, the acceptance almost more meaningful than the words.
"I thought it was about time," Aviv said quietly when she pulled back.
Then his gaze drifted to Acheron, and something gentler passed over his face.