Author Notes: I wanted to post this sooner but the chapter ended up being longed than I expected and I split Aftershocks into a third part.

I also forgot to mention in the last chapter, but the meanings behind the flowers that Slade is sending Oliver are based off the meanings that the flowers traditionally have in the language of flowers.

An explanation for the flowers and Slade's actions will be coming up shortly.

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Chapter 12: Aftershocks II

Spying on Slade's building of a residence a couple times—when Oliver was still unsure as to whether things would end in blood between them—turned out to be handy when the Omega was able to remember how to navigate his way through the city to Slade's place easily enough.

Turning off the road, Oliver drove his bike into what he presumed was the car park underneath Slade's building.

Manoeuvring his way through the relative darkness of Slade's place, Oliver tried to retrace his steps and remember where the Alpha had taken him the last time he was here.

Anxiety grew in Oliver as he arrived at the room where the highest concentration of Slade's scent was and he noticed the door was open. It was pitch black in the apartment and Oliver lingered in the doorway.

If it wasn't for Slade's scent shrouding the room like a blanket of heady musk, Oliver might not even have thought the Alpha was here. Underneath Slade's woody, amber-like scent, there was something else however. Something that Oliver had to inhale deeply for a moment to notice.

The smell was salty and metallic. Oliver's mind instantly picked it as blood.

Oliver palms for the light switch on the wall.

Light illuminates the room and the Omega then spots the equipment that had been left haphazardly across the floor near the couch, darting over to it.

Holsters, sheaths, gloves, boots, and other black-and-orange armour-like apparel littered the carpet. Oliver instantly recognises it as what Slade had been wearing last night, the steely mask of the Alpha's glaring back at Oliver menacingly from the floor.

Picking up the sheathed sword closest to him, Oliver drew the blade out slightly. Dried blood appeared to be crusted on the opening of the scabbard as well as flecks of it were coated up the blade's length. Re-sheathing the sword, Oliver decides against drawing it out fully.

His mind was racing with thoughts.

What did Slade do? This clearly happened last night or today.

Hands moving of their own accord, Oliver finds himself looking at the Alpha's other discarded weaponry. Picking up the bandolier that hung over Slade's shoulder, Oliver was confident upon a closer inspection that the canisters in it were explosives. One of them was gone though, because there were three pocket-like slots here and only two of were occupied.

He's about to check how many rounds were in Slade's guns, seriously worried as to his Alpha's activity last night, when a noise comes from elsewhere in the apartment.

Oliver perks up from where he'd been crouching on the floor at the nearby groan. He'd been so transfixed on the Alpha's discarded (and rather incriminating) weapons and armour that Oliver had temporarily forgotten that Slade was likely even here.

Getting to his feet unsteadily, Oliver wonders as to what kind of state Slade is in.

The door to the bedroom on the right is closed but Oliver could still hear Slade making incoherent noises through it. It didn't even sound like Slade was speaking words—which Oliver had never heard the Alpha be quite so nonsensical before—which made Oliver think Slade was probably asleep.

Opening the door slightly, Oliver pokes his head into the darkness of the room.

"Slade…," Oliver calls softly.

Only quiet muttering responds to Oliver.

Pushing the door open and allowing light to spill into the room from the hallway, Oliver notices Slade turned over on his stomach in bed with the sheets haphazardly kicked off to the left side of him. Which also happened to expose that Slade was shirtless and his right leg was bare, along with his ass that was only partially covered by blankets.

His Alpha had a nice, toned ass though...

Averting his gaze, Oliver realises he'd been staring at his Alpha's ass and is more so thankful for the fact that Slade was sleeping on his stomach. If he'd walked in and Slade had been sleeping on his back however...

Shaking his mind free of thoughts of his Alpha's dick (that dick he had fondled once), Oliver looked back at Slade (not his ass).

Oliver could feel a slight tugging on his heartstrings.

He's asleep.

The Omega hadn't anticipated that Slade might be asleep when he arrived, so that left Oliver with two choices. One was that he could wake Slade up to ask the Alpha about his lack of communication today and the incriminating evidence lying out there on the living room floor. But experience had thus shown Oliver that merely touching Slade whilst he slept could cause him to react violently, which was evidenced by the fact that Oliver was still using Thea's concealer to cover up an uncomfortable purple bruise on his left cheekbone.

Or two, Oliver could hope and wait for Slade to wake up on his own in due time.

Intentionally waking Slade was definitely out, so it looked like Oliver could be staying at Slade's for a little while.

Shaking his head, Oliver walks into the bedroom and settles himself on the left side of Slade's bed.

Slade doesn't seem to rouse as Oliver lays down beside him. Oliver does flick the bed sheets back over Slade's back and ass though.

Propping the pillows up against the headboard, Oliver gets his phone out of his pocket and waits for Slade to awaken.

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After about half an hour of Oliver mucking around on his phone, the Omega was becoming bored.

Slade had grown relatively silent beside Oliver which made the Omega think the Alpha had fallen into an easy sleep at least.

A smile graces Oliver's face as he trails his gaze over Slade's sleeping form.

The Alpha had his arms propped up under the pillows supporting his head and from what Oliver could see of Slade's expression, he looked quite peaceful. Moving about slightly in his sleep, the Alpha had thrown the covers Oliver had chucked over him off his back but they were thankfully still over Slade's ass and tangled up in his legs.

Reaching a hand out to re-pull the sheets up at least over Slade's lower back, Oliver notices there was a dark marking over the Alpha's lumber. In fact, Oliver realises, there were two or three long patches of discoloured skin up and down Slade's back.

They were dark red, black bruises.

Slade's hurt…? But how...what could have happened? What was Slade doing last night?

Oliver knew logically that with the Mirakuru running through Slade's veins, he shouldn't injury as easily and should heal faster. The fact that Slade had reasonably sized bruising up and down his back thus concerned Oliver.

Something significant must have clearly happened to cause Slade injury, and Oliver's assuming the mention of Sebastian Blood might have triggered Slade last night to set out doing… whatever he'd been doing but—

—All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly seem to fall into place in Oliver's head. Any ill-will he might feel for Slade seems to vanish as Oliver keeps staring at his Alpha's injury.

Without even thinking about it, Oliver trails his hand out over Slade's shoulder.

The effect is instantaneous as Slade mumbles something and tenses under Oliver's touch.

Shit, Oliver mentally curses and his first thought is to recoil backwards.

It's not enough though as Slade's hand swiftly darts out and catches Oliver by the wrist.

A breath hitches in Oliver's throat as he meets Slade's gaze, the Alpha still lying down in bed.

Dark brown eyes stare back at Oliver, but not with malice or contempt like the Omega remembered Slade had once looked at him with, when the Alpha had thought Oliver was the same hallucination that plagued him.

He's fine… Yeah, he's fine, Oliver's mind briefly registers.

Yet Slade's eyes were glazed over with dark rings beneath them and Oliver knew from just a few seconds of looking at the Alpha that he wasn't with it.

"Hey," Slade murmurs.

After a few seconds of looking at Oliver somewhat dumbfounded, Slade releases the Omega's wrist and re-tucks his left arm back under the pillow supporting his head.

"Hey," Oliver responds.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the Alpha asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Temporarily averting his gaze from Slade, Oliver lets out a low whistle of air.

"You weren't at the rally this evening and you hadn't texted me back all day. I was... concerned."

Slade makes a random, incoherent mumble that sounds like agreement. The Alpha goes silent and Oliver watches Slade close his eyes for a few seconds then reopen them.

Blinking, Slade appears to take a moment to re-register Oliver's presence.

"How long have you been here for?"

Oliver gives a slight shrug of his shoulders in response.

"About half an hour."

At Oliver's reply, Slade seems to deflate further, the Alpha sinking back into the mattress and laying his head down on the pillow.

"'You gonna ask?"

Shaking his head, Oliver taps the side of Slade's forearm.

"No, not yet. 'Really not until you're ready to tell me," Oliver affirms.

"For now though, are you okay? Do you need me to do anything?"

Briefly, Slade cocks his head to one side at the Omega's words before collapsing his head back down into the pillow.

"No, 'tis good. You're alive…" Slade mutters, fluttering his eyelids closed.

Oliver goes to open his mouth to speak at Slade's last words, but then closes it. He waits for the Alpha to reopen his eyes and say something to him again, but Slade doesn't.

Merely observing the steady rise and fall of Slade's chest, after several moments, Oliver comes to the conclusion that Slade had gone back out like a light.

Carefully, Oliver eases himself off Slade's bed, tiptoeing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Wandering back into the living area, Oliver re-spots Slade's weapons and armour. There was kind of shit all over the place and Oliver finds himself gathering up the apparatus from the carpet then re-dumping it by the far kitchen wall.

Lingering in the room for a moment, Oliver wonders if he should text Slade that he's been and gone from here, that way the Alpha didn't get the wrong idea. Slade didn't appear to have checked any of Oliver's previous messages though.

Oliver begins to scrounge around in the drawers and cupboards of the kitchen looking for paper before he finds some in the wooden cabinets near the door, along with some biros.

Oliver began to write.

Hey Slade,

It's Oliver.

I wasn't sure if you'd check your phone first thing when you woke up so I decided to leave you a note just telling you I've been and gone from here.

Sorry I woke you up. You seemed pretty out of it. So I dunno if you remember what happened but I came over because you hadn't responded to my messages and you weren't at Sebastian Blood's rally.

Things turned alright though on my end.

I also moved all your equipment on the floor to the far wall because you had shit lying everywhere.

I'll talk to you when you're up next.

Oliver

Scrawling his name at the bottom of the note, the Omega's pen lingered over the page. Almost like something was missing.

At the bottom of the page, Oliver decides to add:

P.S. I got your flowers. They were nice.

Slinking back into Slade's room, Oliver spies the Alpha still asleep in bed. Leaving the finished note on Slade's bedside table, Oliver departs the older man's apartment with a greater sense of peace of mind than he'd arrived with.

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When Oliver awakens the next morning and checks his phone, he notices a text from Slade already there.

Slade: I was seriously going to have to consider if you were here last night, but then I saw you'd left me a note. Thanks, kid.

Oliver: Don't worry about it. I intend to be back over tonight, old man.

Oliver pockets his phone when the Alpha doesn't immediately respond, preparing to head to Queen Consolidated.

The flowers Slade had sent him were still occupying the small table in the corner of Oliver's office. Yet Oliver noticed Felicity appeared to have filled the bouquet's container with water.

Sometime after Oliver's settled into looking like he knew what he was doing (and actually doing some things with Felicity's aid), the Omega's phone vibrated in his pocket.

The Omega screws up his face when he reads Slade's message.

Slade: I think we need to talk.

Oliver: I know, but I don't want you to feel like we have to talk just because of what happened yesterday. If you're not ready, we don't need to talk right now.

Slade: Why are you so damn nice, kid?

Rolling his eyes, Oliver wished the Alpha would have given him a serious reply rather than just taken a jab at him.

Oliver: Shut up. You're the one sending me flowers. By the way, what was that all about? Did it have anything to do with Sunday night?

Slade: I sent them on Saturday so no, you were getting those flowers regardless. And I'll explain the flowers… later or so, 'cause you're not done with them yet.

With a raised eyebrow, Oliver momentarily gawked when he read Slade's last texted sentence.

Oliver: Are you serious? Have you sent more? You know I'm just Googling the meanings of these flowers off the floral company's website, right? I don't actually know what the flowers are meant to mean.

Slade: That's a cheat sheet, but it gives you the flowers meanings at least.

Grinning to himself, Oliver puts his phone down.

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As if on queue—shortly after Oliver's pocketed his phone—Felicity darts downstairs bringing back with her another reminder for the Omega of Slade.

Felicity chuckled to herself as she dumped yet another bouquet of flowers on Oliver's desk. Out of the corner of the Omega's eye, he's sure Dig was smirking, but his partners remained relatively silent as Oliver took in the new flowers.

They were a middling pink colour with each individual flower splitting into five directions. The flowers smelt almost like roses, but looking at the tag attached to the bouquet revealed they were azaleas.

Oliver searches up azaleas on the florist company's website.

The website read:

Pink azaleas exemplify softness and devotion from the sender. The recipient of azaleas may interpret the flowers to mean that the sender is asking them to take care of themselves and that the sender cares deeply for them.

Heat pooled in Oliver's cheeks at the mere concept that Slade cared deeply for him. The two of them evidently liked and cared for each other beyond the issues they experienced but they didn't really verbalise their feelings overly to one another.

Instantly, Oliver's messaging Slade.

Oliver: You want to tell me what sending me these flowers is all about?

Slade: A bit of a courtship, if you will.

The Omega almost recoiled backwards reading the Alpha's reply.

Courtship? What the fuck?

He couldn't believe it! Felicity was right, Slade was sending him flowers to court him!

For a second thoughts run wild in Oliver's head but taking a deep breath, the Omega manages to settle himself.

Slade could have very well just been telling him shit like this to be a dickbag.

Oliver: Explain? You don't have to court me Slade, you've already got me.

When Oliver reads Slade's return message though, he can't help but think that his Alpha was being serious about all of this.

Slade: That was by no feat of my damn own though, that was you jumping me and finally deciding you wanted to get fucked.

Oliver screws up his face.

Oliver: It sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.

The Omega knew that he and Slade had quasi-Bonded over a quick fucking and knotting, which was by no means romantic. Said sex was also initiated by Oliver in an attempt to goad a Bonding from Slade so that he'd gain some leverage over the Alpha.

When Oliver thought about it like this, he could totally see why the Alpha might disagree with… how things had come to be between then.

Slade: Point is, I could have tried a lot harder to court your ass than I did. And now I'm going to do just that.

Oliver: Can you at least tell me why the flowers?

Slade: Another time.

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Before Oliver heads out for the evening on patrol, Slade's texting him again.

Slade: Can you bring over some endone or some shit? I'm kinda fucked.

Endone, Oliver thinks to himself. Why is Slade asking me for endone? I only take strong pain killers like that when I've dislocated, broken, or torn the shit out of something.

Oliver: Does this have something to do with the bruises on your back?

Slade: Yes.

Slade: Am I back in the doghouse?

Reading the Alpha's next message, Oliver wonders as to what Slade means but then realises maybe Slade expected him to be angry with him.

Oliver: No, you're not. I can bring over some things and give you an injection of morphine later on, so long as you tell me what it's for. Because clearly it's not for those bruises on your back and I wanna know how much morphine I'm giving you.

Slade: 'Think I've slipped a disc or I've got a compression fracture. 'Done something though that fuckin' hurts.

The Omega grimaces to himself. Evidently the bruises on Slade's back made more sense now, and finding out the Alpha had spinal injuries only made Oliver more certain as to the cause of said injuries.

Oliver: Are you going to be okay though?

Slade: It should heal.

Oliver decides to leave his and his Alpha's conversation at that, sending Slade one last message to tell him he was coming over later.

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Sometime around nine, Oliver arrives at Slade's place after a relatively quiet night of Arrow activity and gathering some things to take to his Alpha's place.

Stood outside Slade's apartment, Oliver knocks on the door.

"You can come in, 'cause I'm not getting up," Slade's voice emanates quietly through the door.

Letting himself into the room, Oliver was surprised to find Slade outstretched on the couch. The Alpha was lying stomach-down with his hands and feet hanging over either side of the couch. Slade had his head perked up at Oliver's arrival.

Oliver also couldn't help notice that Slade's equipment was still lying where he'd left it last night.

He really is hurt, Oliver thinks to himself as he wandered over to his Alpha.

"Hey," Oliver greets.

"You gonna give me some of those painkillers?" Slade demands more than asks.

The Alpha looks at Oliver with squinted eyes and a hint of a glare.

Oliver drops the backpack he'd been carrying and decides to just cut straight to the chase.

Pulling a capped syringe out of the bag, Oliver shows Slade the needle but holds it back out of his reach.

"I'll give you the morphine first and then you should need nothing else for the night. I'm giving you a higher dosage than I'd normally give myself. I figured if you were coming to me looking for painkillers, you've got to be in significant pain," Oliver says astutely.

A low rumble vibrates up Slade's throat, but the Alpha says nothing intelligible, merely keeps staring at the Omega crouched before him.

Popping the safety cap on the syringe, Oliver gestures towards one of the Alpha's outstretched arms.

"Can I jab this in your wrist without you attempting to hit me?

Slade growls but his furrowed eyebrows loosen as he turns an outstretched arm palm up to Oliver.

"Fine, go ahead."

The Omega takes Slade's offered wrist, which upon grabbing it, Oliver notices how hot the Alpha's body is. More so than usual because Slade always ran a higher temperature than Oliver. No, it felt like Slade's body had to be pushing 106 degrees. Yet Slade wasn't sweating or panting despite his fever-like temperature, so Oliver pushed that concern to the back of his mind.

"Clench your fist," Oliver mentions after beginning to apply pressure on Slade's forearm.

He maybe should have made a makeshift tourniquet for the Alpha's arm but when Slade tightens his hand into a fist, Oliver spots a vein in the older man's wrist.

Slade slides his gaze back up to meet Oliver's and the Omega offers the Alpha a light smile.

It keeps Slade's eyes locked on Oliver's as the Omega pokes the morphine into the Alpha's wrist. Pushing the plunger down on the syringe, Slade is silent as Oliver empties the injection's contents into him.

As Oliver pulls the needle out of Slade, the Alpha releases a gruff exhale. A bit of blood trickles out from the place where the injection had went—Oliver silently wondering to himself how he couldn't have thought to bring a light dressing to put over it—but Slade swiftly clasps his other hand around said wrist.

Replacing the cap on the syringe, Oliver drops the emptied syringe back into his bag.

"There. The morphine should start to work in ten-fifteen minutes, but you might also feel drowsy."

Shaking his head, Slade huffs, pulling his arms back on the couch and propping them underneath his head.

"I'm already tired and cranky as fuck, just letting you know," Slade states in a matter-of-factly tone.

Oliver flicks his head to one side and raises his brows at the Alpha.

"I gathered as much."

At the Omega's seeming disapproval, Slade cranes his neck upwards to meet Oliver's gaze.

"My back's fine when I'm lying down like this," Slade states, in a quiet—almost defeated—tone.

"But I aggravated the shit out of it before trying to get up, have a shower, and get dressed. I didn't get to the having a shower part, but I'm dressed as you can see. Damn back's been giving me grief ever since."

As Oliver is about to open his mouth and ask if the Alpha will let him look at his back, Slade glances downwards at the bag at Oliver's feet, beating the Omega to talking.

"What else is in the bag?"

Rummaging through his backpack, Oliver pulls out the first of its contents and drops a small medicine bottle onto Slade's coffee table.

"This is the endone," Oliver explains.

Immediately Slade's right hand is seeking out the coffee table to which Oliver brushes the Alpha's fingers away from it at.

Slade snarls, lightly baring his teeth at Oliver.

"You're only supposed to take one every six hours," Oliver says somewhat sternly, "Seeing as you've just had the morphine, don't take any endone until like three in the morning."

"Fine."

Right arm flopping back against the couch, Slade appears to yield to his Omega's wishes.

Oliver continues to empty the contents of his bag, dropping another two bottles onto the table.

Dark eyes remain eagerly glued to Oliver's movements.

"I wouldn't advise taking these until you're off the endone but I figured I'd bring these over anyway…" Oliver starts.

"These are valium—"

Low growling from Slade ceases the Omega's talking.

Slade was staring back at Oliver with a glare and bared teeth. Like he rejected the very notion that Oliver would try and medicate an issue Slade definitely did not have.

Letting out a low sigh, Oliver walks between the coffee table and the sofa, flopping down onto the floor. Oliver stretches his legs out across the carpet as his back's propped up against the couch.

The Omega finds himself clasping his hands in one another.

"Shut up. They'll help you sleep. They do for me at least. One should be enough if you're just anxious, but two helps me sleep when I'm stressed. I've got more than enough bottles anyway, so I figured I'd bring one over seeing as you're not much better than me in the sleeping department."

Quiet rumbling comes from behind Oliver yet it's not what the Omega considered to be hostile from Slade.

A hand drapes over Oliver's left shoulder. Said hand's thumb caressed down the Omega's stubbled cheek.

It was the back of Slade's finger going up and down Oliver's face but the Omega found the gesture soothing all the same.

"Why you got so many valiums, kid?" Slade asks softly.

Oliver lets out an exhale as Slade remains running his thumb over his cheek.

"When I got back from the island, my mom got me all these meds. I was withdrawn, volatile, and could barely function like a normal person in my own home—let alone in front of anyone else. My mom and Thea hated it because I wouldn't let anyone touch me, barely ate, and I wasn't sleeping either. I flat out refused to take any of these meds my mom was trying to force into me."

Slade makes a muffled sound of amusement, his thumb scratching underneath Oliver's chin. The Omega allows it, leaning his head to one side.

"Why'd you start taking your meds though?" Slade asks, jovialness gone from his tone.

A frown crosses Oliver's face as he recalls all those months ago.

"Aside from the fact that I was a menace in my own household and I couldn't stand seeing how it affected my family… I couldn't function to do anything productive the way I was. I didn't sleep enough and I was always on edge. Putting on the hood at night, I was sloppier and I made stupid mistakes where I shouldn't have. So yeah, that's why I actually started taking these," Oliver finishes holding up two medicine bottles to Slade.

Behind Oliver, Slade makes a grunt like he was moving about on the sofa. Then Slade's fingers come away from the Omega's face and brush over his closed palm holding the medications.

"What's the other one? Not the valium? I already know what that does," Slade questions, pulling the other bottle from Oliver's palm.

"Zoloft, it's—" Oliver starts but Slade cuts him off.

"—Antidepressant," Slade finishes astutely for Oliver.

"Yeah…"

When Slade re-tucks the second medicine bottle back into Oliver's palm, the Omega deposited the two of them back onto the table.

Part of him felt a bit uncomfortable baring himself to the Alpha like this, but Oliver squashed down that awkwardness inside of him. It wasn't like he and his Alpha were all that different after all.

"I take them..." Oliver says as if those mere words were a condemnation.

"The valiums help me sleep and take the edge off me when I'm antsy. The zoloft's just a day-to-day thing that picks up my mood, helps me function better than I did without it."

Oliver scratches the back of his neck, unsure as to Slade's emotions when he couldn't see the Alpha's face.

Fingers tangle into Oliver's own near the back of the Omega's head and Slade's hand tightens over Oliver's own.

With their hands now fully clasped in one another, the Omega could feel how clammy Slade's hands were. Then again, his own hands probably weren't all that pleasant to hold either.

A low grumble leaves Slade as the Alpha adjusts his hand in Oliver's own.

Slade then flops down between the couch and coffee table, beside the Omega, lowering their intertwined hands by Oliver's side.

The Alpha groans as he collapses down onto the floor but he gives Oliver a sideways grin.

"I'll take them."

Oliver stares at the Alpha with furrowed brows.

"Should you really be sitting up right now?" Oliver asks sternly, but with a hint of concern.

Alpha kinking his neck to one side, Slade appears to roll his left shoulder, right arm remaining bound to Oliver's.

"I'm alright," Slade affirms.

"'Mirakuru makes drugs go straight through me. My body doesn't like me putting shit in it; makes it hard to get drunk as I stay real sober for ages. Hopefully the endone will at least work on me quickly then as my body seems to be absorbing the morphine quickly."

Slade had never injured his back as badly as this before but the morphine seemed to be dulling his pain rather effectively. The Mirakuru within him would attempt to absorb and be rid of any foreign substances like painkillers in him rapidly, which in his situation, was going to be a pain in the arse. Only Oliver's evident disapproval was going to keep Slade from wanting to shove multiple endone pills at once into himself.

Oliver nods as Slade settled on the floor beside him seems content.

"Alright, you're not taking any endone for the next six hours though," Oliver affirms.

"I also assumed you might not have eaten all day when you texted me, so I brought food," Oliver says after Slade doesn't protest to his former words.

Slade passes Oliver his backpack as if on queue and the Omega pulls out two packets from within it.

"By food, you mean instant noodles," Slade states after a single look at the cup-like packets Oliver brought out.

Getting to his feet and pulling his hand from Slade's, Oliver swats one of the packets over Slade's head lightly.

"We've already established I can't cook, so shut it," Oliver reprimands.

With what limited culinary experience and knowledge Oliver had, the Omega prepared the instant noodle soups for himself and his Alpha. When Oliver had heated up the noodles, he brought back the food to the coffee table where he and Slade began to eat and just make small talk sat on the floor.

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On Wednesday morning, more flowers arrived at Queen Consolidated for Oliver.

This time they were small flowers with dabs of yellow in the middle and a blue outside. Upon inspection, Oliver found the card attached to the bouquet read Blue Violets.

Googling the flower, Oliver found the following regarding the flowers meaning:

Blue violets indicate the sender's devotion and faithfulness to the recipient. Sending blue violets is also a way to express to another that you'll always be true and are committed to making your relationship work.

Oliver was beginning to think over time the underlying messages of the flowers Slade was sending him were becoming less cryptic. It was really starting to seem like… just a declaration of Slade's feelings to him rather than anything more or less.

The Omega was starting to run out of places to have all these flowers in his office so this afternoon he'd probably take some of them to Verdant.

Before Oliver can overly contemplate Slade's flowers, said Alpha on his mind texts him.

Slade: Can we talk?

It didn't take a genius to realise what Slade meant when he asked Oliver if they could 'talk'.

Typing back to the Alpha, Oliver thinks Slade might be truly serious this time about them conversing.

Oliver: Tonight?

Slade: Yes.

Oliver sighs, putting his phone away as he'd surely have a lot on his mind tonight.

It was time he and his Alpha had that chat.

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Stood upon a vacant building, Oliver's eyes are just surveying the city when his ears prick up at the sound of clanging and grunting nearby him.

The Omega's first instinct is to nock an arrow in his bow but the night air carried with it the familiar scent of musky, unbridled Alpha.

It was almost pitch black outside, but Oliver could still recognise Slade's black-and-orange mask as it peeked over the side of the building and the Alpha pulled himself up onto the rooftop.

He'd told Slade they'd talk once Oliver had retired from patrol for the night so the Omega was thus confused to see the Alpha here now.

"Slade!" Oliver half-hisses as he drops his bow and darts over to his Alpha.

With a groan, Slade drops to his knees after scuffling onto the rooftop.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't even be standing!" Oliver barks.

The Omega was baffled by the fact that Slade had just scaled the side of a relatively tall building to come see him.

Despite his irritation, Oliver lingers crouched down by his Alpha's side who was nearly on all fours.

It was strange to see Slade so beaten and battered like this, more so when Oliver looked at the Alpha clad in his padded armour and multiple weapons.

Slade's head tilts to one side until the Alpha is staring right back at Oliver.

"Shut up," Slade protests, "I had to come see you. 'Need to talk to you."

At the strained tone of Slade's voice, Oliver blinked, slightly taken aback by the sheer urgency in Slade's voice.

This is really bothering him, Oliver lamented to himself.

Oliver's hands seek out Slade's back and the front of his shoulder.

"I can walk," Slade croaks, flicking his head over to meet Oliver's gaze.

The Omega didn't doubt Slade's willingness to try and walk.

As Slade goes to push himself off the ground and back into a kneeling position, Oliver takes the Alpha's right arm and slides himself beneath it. Slade's right arm hung over the Omega's shoulders and Oliver clasped the Alpha's hand with his own before winding his free arm around Slade's back.

Slowly and steadily, the Omega pushes himself to his feet as Slade also seemed to do so with Oliver's support.

"Let's go," Oliver says after pulling himself and Slade to their feet.

Oliver began to walk towards the top of the emergency exit stairwell that marked the only three walls and a door on top of the building.

Pressure weighed on Oliver's shoulders as he walked half-hunched over to match the fact that Slade didn't appear to be able to stand fully. Oliver was able to pull back a bow with a draw weight of 150 pounds though and bench heavier weights still, so shouldering Slade while the man was still able to somewhat carry himself was easy enough.

"When did you get so strong, kid?" Slade huffs as he is chaperoned along by the younger man.

"Shut up. You're forgetting who hauled your ass back to the freighter after Fyers shot you."

As Oliver finishes shouldering Slade to the wall, the Alpha collapses down against it. Oliver releases his knees from supporting himself as well and allows himself to be dragged to the floor along with his Alpha.

"That was your fault. Running off as usual," Slade lightly chides.

Pulling his right arm from over Oliver's shoulders, Slade straightens himself up against the wall by bracing his hands on the ground. His and the Omega's legs were still haphazardly lying about before them as they remained shoulder-to-shoulder.

With a huff, Slade turns to his Omega.

Oliver had a blank look on his face and his blue eyes were unusually hard to read due to the mask Slade thinks the Omega had only starting wearing recently.

Slade draws the back of his right hand over Oliver's cheekbone to which the Omega remains silent at.

"What's with the mask? 'Get tired of putting your makeup on everyday," Slade chuckles.

The Omega's face contorts into a scowl as he growls lightly and Slade pulls his hand from Oliver's face voluntarily.

"No, for your information, it was a gift from a friend," Oliver says, voice laced with more hostility than likely intended due to his vocal changer.

Slipping a hand into his hood, Oliver disables his voice changer.

"I'm… can we—" Slade attempts to start.

Oliver cuts the Alpha off though by dropping his hand down upon Slade's. Sliding his hand into Slade's own that was covered in thick padding, Oliver gives Slade's palm a reassuring squeeze.

"Would it make things easier for you if I just told you what I know? Or rather suspect, seeing as I think I have a fairly good idea of what happened Sunday night," Oliver asks attentively.

The Alpha swallows around an uncomfortable lump in his throat. This evening, he'd been too anxious to wait for Oliver to arrive at his apartment. He'd been in pain—still was—and even though Slade was able to hobble around in his apartment, the pain in his back was chronic.

The Mirakuru was likely mending whatever damage had been done to his vertebrates but at the same time had to realign and force those bones back where they'd originally came from.

How many times had Slade rehearsed having this all too important conversation with Oliver though? And yet, Slade had no idea where to start. So Slade eagerly agrees to the idea of the Omega just explaining what he knew.

"Yes…" Slade lets out quietly after a moment.

Oliver gives Slade's hand another squeeze, which the Alpha seems to feel despite the no doubt layers of clothing covering him as Slade holds back tightly onto the Omega's hand.

It was mildly uncomfortable for Oliver, as he wasn't able to move his fingers much that were caught tightly in Slade's own, but the Omega leaves his hand there in Slade's.

The Alpha had grown quiet now.

Letting out an exhale, Oliver opens his mouth to talk.

"First off, I just want you to know I'm not mad. Or anything for that matter. If anything, I've just been concerned the past couple days. I know... or rather, I think you didn't like me going to speak with Sebastian Blood and that set you off."

Oliver is damn right about that, Slade thinks to himself with gritted teeth.

Slade merely lets out a low rumble though.

"It's alright…" the Omega adds softly.

If it wasn't for the fact that Slade's hand clasped around his own limited Oliver's ability to use said hand, he would have attempted to rub his palm back over the Alpha's.

"I understand you're likely not proud of your involvement together."

Guilt stabs Slade through the chest like a knife.

He couldn't believe it, Oliver knew. He knew! Oliver knew about Sebastian just as Slade had suspected in his paranoia.

Slade growls even louder, not able to think of anything intelligent to say, clenching his hand around Oliver's. Almost like he was begging Oliver not to go.

Please don't hate me, please don't hate me. The Alpha remained silent for a moment however, awaiting Oliver to dish out whatever verbal punishment he would.

Oliver actually does wince this time at Slade's manhandling, but he thinks the small sound is drowned out underneath Slade's rumbling.

"How'd you find out? What'd he say?"

Despite that Oliver's hand was still in Slade's own vice grip-like own, Oliver tries to remain calm and collected. He could still clearly remember how the revelation dawned upon his mind and how he connected all the dots together of Slade and Sebastian's relationship.

"Look, I'm not bothered," Oliver starts with.

"I paid Sebastian a visit to try and talk him down from running a suicidal rally in City Plaza. Admittedly, things turned alright then. When I went to leave Sebastian's office though, he mentioned you."

Oliver pauses for a moment, expecting Slade to surely interrupt him. Yet Slade only remains staring, fixated on him with deep, dark eyes.

The Omega has to think to himself for a moment about how he's going to explain things to Slade without openly telling the Alpha how things really occurred. Or rather, that Sebastian thought the Arrow was Slade's pet bitch.

"Sebastian wanted to know why you were letting the Arrow roam around free," Oliver lets out with a slight exhale.

Slade's whole body goes rigid at Oliver's words. If it weren't for his hand still wrapped in Oliver's, he thinks he would have bolted from the Omega at this very second and attempted to find wherever Sebastian was hiding himself out at this very moment.

Slade's aching back probably would have also prevented that though.

The Alpha couldn't contain his anger, spite, but most of all disappointment with himself that he'd put his Omega in a position like this. Oliver, who he was seemingly only a hassle to, but cared for deeply.

Slade can barely think of anything intelligent to say at the Omega's pause.

"And..." Slade ends up muttering.

Oliver shakes his head slightly.

"I... I wasn't certain as to what exactly Sebastian was referring to at the time. I only knew that you too clearly had a relationship, but I didn't want to bother you about it over the phone on Sunday."

Slade sighs, free hand coming up to drag over his mask.

"So you did know something?" Slade huffs.

Since their phone call Sunday evening, Slade had expected the Omega knew something, and he'd gotten all worked up about it. And yet, it turned out, the Omega did know of his and damn Blood's relationship but Oliver just didn't let on to it at the time.

Slade slumped forward slightly from where he'd been leaning against the wall.

The Alpha is silently grateful for the cold, indifferent mask covering his face from Oliver. Right now Slade's face was screwed up with anxiety and contempt for himself.

Despite Slade wanting to tell Oliver the full extent of what had been happening since he'd gotten here in Starling City, the Alpha may have been too late now. Even after all this time—all the weeks he'd spent garnering Oliver's trust and goodwill—Slade couldn't prevent Oliver from finding out the truth on his own.

Pain pangs at Slade's heart like a thousand needles were being poked into the organ.

Everything Slade had done—and everything he was—it would all be for naught now if he lost Oliver.

Yet Oliver's hand merely remains intertwined in his own.

"Did you suspect I did when we talked?" Oliver asks, flatly.

"Yes..." Slade growls lowly.

"Though I wasn't sure if that was just my paranoia but I was almost certain that there was something in your voice at the time that made me think you knew."

Oliver shook his head.

"It's alright. I wasn't really sure what to think at the time, but imagined you would explain your involvement with Sebastian when we 'talked'. When I came to see you Monday night—after you hadn't texted me back all day—and I saw those bruises on your back... everything made sense though."

Slade's body goes rigid at the Omega's words.

"Tell me…"

The Omega sighs, thinking back to his first re-encounter with Slade in Starling City. He hoped he wouldn't be bringing up unpleasant memories for Slade as he knew neither of them were particularly proud of those original actions between them. Remembering that second first meeting between them though is what helped Oliver connect up all the dots up as to Slade and Sebastian's relationship.

"Do you remember when you pulled me off the streets and I was going into heat? Before I managed to give Cyrus Gold the slip, he made a phone call to whom I'm assuming was Sebastian. That's the only way I could think that Sebastian would have known about the Arrow's dynamic and our relationship."

Although Oliver doesn't mention it to Slade, he also remembers distinctly thinking Slade couldn't have been the one Cyrus Gold had made a phone call to as Slade had half-admitted it to him. Slade had almost been… protective of him after the Alpha had pulled him off the streets.

Oliver remembered Slade's words also when the Alpha cornered him at Verdant and he'd accused Slade of not having killed anyone this week in an attempt to get Oliver to talk to him.

"That ain't got nothing to do with me, kid. You have no idea how many people I am currently keeping in line."

By people, Oliver was willing to bet Slade was referring to Sebastian Blood and Cyrus Gold.

When Slade remains silent at Oliver's statement, the Omega thinks he must be right on the money.

"As for last Sunday night…" Oliver continues.

"I'm assuming the mention of Sebastian set you off. Like you just said, you thought I knew something. You were silent all of Monday, and if I hadn't seen Sebastian alive at the rally, I'd be assuming now that you'd... disposed of him. But... when I saw those bruises on your back, I knew that something more serious must have happened to injury you like that. Which lead me to believe you must have went after Cyrus Gold rather than Sebastian, as someone else with the Mirakuru in them would have more likely inflicted those injuries on you."

Letting out a sigh, Slade realises truly how much Oliver knew. The Omega knew more than Slade gave him credit for and the Alpha saw no point in trying to hide his other secrets at this point.

Slade rubs his free hand up over a still sore shoulder.

"Well, actually," Slade begins somewhat hesitantly, "Put my back out falling down a few stories and hitting the pavement, but Gold did end up putting me there."

Oliver grits his teeth together anxiously, which hopefully Slade didn't see with how dark it was around them. He wasn't stupid, he knew how Slade's tale ended but he wanted to know the intrinsic details anyway.

"What happened?" Oliver asks calmly.

The Omega squeezes Slade's hand in his own the best he can around thick padding.

Around them the city is silent, and said silence is only broken when Slade lets out a heavy exhale.

"Well, I…" Slade starts.

It was difficult for the Alpha to piece together and recall his memories, but he knew what he'd done. He was very much aware that he'd given into his own madness, had known so too at the time. But his insanity had promised him vengeance and it freed him from pain for a short time. It had been all too easy for Slade to give in to, and that meant that the Alpha was here right now having this unfortunate conversation with Oliver.

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Slade only bothers to put clothes on before rampaging downstairs. His fist goes through a wall a couple times—insignificant damage compared to what Slade usually did when he worked himself up into a frenzy like this.

By time Slade makes it downstairs—into the hidden basement that held the Alpha's many skeletons in the closet—he's practically shaking. Radiating anxiety, fear, disgust, and above all hatred for Sebastian Blood who may have just driven a wedge between him and his Omega.

A thick haze of rage had settled over Slade's mind and he couldn't quite think, but he knew what he had to do.

This basement, his own personal armoury, marked the reason that Slade brought this spacious building in the first place.

Katanas, guns, backup weapons, and ammunition littered most of every surface and wall in the room.

From where it sat on its mannequin, Slade's black-and-orange suit of plated armour called to him—coaxing him.

TONIGHT WE KILL. WE DO IT FOR OURSELVES. DO IT FOR HIM.

Within mere minutes, Slade's got it on though leaves his mask on the table, Kevlar sliding over his skin, engulfing him. Slade welcomed its feeling of control and power washing over him, a sense of security lulling over him, even if the Alpha knew it was false.

He couldn't be content until Blood was dead.

Immediately, Slade withdraws one of the katanas on his back.

The Alpha's right hand shakes around the blade as he glares at it.

An inkling of dread creeps to the forefront of Slade's mind as a sensation like ice pierces through his temples, almost like he was being watched.

Hesitantly, Slade turns around only to be greeted with darkness.

Slade knows killing Sebastian was effectively silencing the Beta for good, but... he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that hung over him. Along with the words that had echoed in his mind earlier.

He'll never approve of this, you know?

It reminded Slade too much of a warped version of Oliver, his mind playing tricks on him.

Gnawing at his bottom lip, some of the haze fogging up Slade's mind seems to ebb as he's able to think.

What if killing Blood did make things worse between him and Oliver? The Omega would likely condemn him murdering Blood if Oliver found out. Which Slade not only couldn't allow but couldn't bear to have happen.

He feared Oliver's disapproval—of his Omega looking at him with contempt and disappointment—more than he thinks he did whatever threat Sebastian may have been posing to their relationship.

No, Slade manages to convince himself, shaking his head. 'Best he not voluntarily drive wedges between himself and Oliver.

But… Slade tightens his fist around his katana. Even if he so chooses to spare Blood's life so as to spare himself from Oliver's wrath, Slade still had to take his due pound of flesh. Sebastian was still threatening his Omega—NO, NO—Slade shakes his head.

Blood may have felt threatened by the Arrow, and the fact that if he knew Slade wasn't keeping the Vigilante in check like he implied he was… But it was Sebastian's fucking obedient dog Cyrus Gold—that had nearly put Oliver through the wringer twice—that was the problem.

Anxiety constricts through Slade's chest and he could feel his blood rushing through his ears.

Sebastian could send Cyrus after the Arrow to eliminate him at any time. Which could be tomorrow night, or the one after that.

And although Oliver was strong (his strong, beautiful Omega), evidence had shown in the past that Oliver was ill-equipped to combat someone who had the Mirakuru within them like Cyrus… Like himself.

Slade had made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

Fist tightening around his sword, Slade manages to cease the tremors racking his body, mind drawing close to the conclusion at hand.

There was no chance Slade would let the day come where his own inaction inadvertently caused Oliver harm. He would not let that day come where he had to live without Oliver. And if that meant violating his Omega's trust once more to ensure that day didn't come, so be it.

Sheathing his sword, Slade pulled on his steely mask before venturing out into the darkness.

Slade had made this problem, now he had to eliminate it.

And so he gives into that desire to do so. It's easy.

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He's sat atop a rooftop across from the building, a motel, he thinks that housed his prey. He liked—longed even—to hunt his own prey like this, rather than someone else's.

Animosity rolled off of him in waves as his dark eyes slid over the motel.

Something in the back of his mind was keeping Slade from pouncing off the rooftop and bursting into the area though. Someone… Someone wouldn't approve of this.

WHO WAS HE? WHO WAS HE?

They were important.

THIS ONE THOUGH, the one Slade was hunting; the current task at hand, it was more important though. More important because this one had tried to hurt his someone. And for that, this one had to die.

Within seconds, Slade has maneuvered his way down onto the concrete and is stalking towards the motel.

Creeping past several closed doors, upstairs and onto a balcony, Slade was sure he was growing closer to his target as the room numbers started to show late twenties.

Room 34…

As Slade continued to stalk along the balcony, he pulled a pistol out of his right holster. A TiSAS Zigana Sport.

He lazily trailed it over the door of room 31 as he walked.

There were 15 rounds in this magazine, which Slade should hardly need. It was almost overkill, but the Alpha hoped every one of these fucking bullets hurt. Even if he just used one.

Although he wanted to use all of them, maybe even waste the spare magazines he had on him.

Screw it!

As the barrel of Slade's gun brushed over a door marked 34, the Alpha took a step back and levelled the sidearm with his line of sight.

He opens fire into the door.

White noise explodes around Slade, not just from the bullets bursting through the door in front of him. There were other sounds, banging, screaming—multiple screams, he thinks—but it's all just white noise and is inconsequential to Slade's rage.

A low clicking noise after multiple bangs alerts the Alpha to the fact that he's dry firing his pistol. Fifteen bullets had already gone through the door in front of him.

With a growl, Slade discards the emptied magazine from his gun over the balcony and inserts a new one into it.

Out of the corner of Slade's eye, he's faintly aware of people running and making noise around him though they do not engage him.

Good.

Thrusting his right leg out in front of him, Slade slams his foot into the door. It gives way beneath his boot and the Alpha forces it down with a loud crash.

A snarl leaves Slade as a darkened corridor greeted him but the scent of blood did not. The smell of Alpha hung in the apartment but it was faint.

This fucker better be here, Slade mentally cusses to himself.

Stepping over the dilapidated door, Slade enters the room and immediately notices most of his bullets lying near the far wall.

Slade creeps into the apartment with his gun still thrust out in front of him.

Rage clouds Slade's every thought, preventing him from thinking or feeling anything in the way of rational. He wanted to butcher this man for what he'd done.

What he'd done… What he'd done to whom?

Their name escaped Slade but they were his—

Out of the corner of Slade's eye he sees it, that Alpha—HIS PREY—, and he catches their scent. But he's too late.

Something—that bastard—slams into the side of Slade with a force he's not used to. It actually fucking hurts. His ribcage protests at pain arching up the side of it and all air is forced out of his lungs.

The Alpha instinctively squeezes the trigger on his gun as noise explodes beside him. Slade's still falling though as his back slams into the floor and a weight crashes down upon him.

Slade's free hand forms a fist and punches out in front of him as his eyes adjust to the darkness once more. The other Alpha lying on top of him avoids Slade's fist as the other's own slams into his collarbone.

Pain explodes in Slade's chest as a guttural, primal roar leaves him and he re-thrusts his gun into the other's face.

His prey scrambles on top of him, hand clasping around Slade's wrist as the Alpha's other hand slams the pistol out of his hand.

Attempting to wrestle his hands away from the other Alpha's, Slade bucks himself upwards. His steely, masked forehead slams into the other Alpha's face.

Hurt blossoms in Slade's head yet the other's weight is swiftly darting up off of him.

Adrenaline pumps through Slade's legs as he forces himself upwards even as his vision swims.

His right hand goes for one of his katanas. It slides swiftly from its sheath as a black blur smacks into Slade and forces him against a wall.

Sword in his hand, Slade stabs in inward towards himself and his attacker.

The other Alpha pulls backwards slightly as Slade's blade slides in between them cutting through his prey's shirt.

When a grunt escapes the other Alpha before Slade and the man retreats, Slade smells the blood. His katana had slid through skin as it slid through fabric.

Slade snarled, thrusting his blade forward in a sideways arc.

The other Alpha pulls himself clear of Slade's sword easily enough though his hand lingers over the wound on his stomach.

Beneath his mask, Slade smirks. He'd injured his prey more than he'd initially thought he had.

Before Slade can feel too pleased with himself, the other Alpha bolts from the room.

Multiple parts of Slade's body were becoming unhappy with his attempts to move but he pursued the other Alpha anyway, quickly grabbing his discarded gun from the floor.

Slade's blood rushing through his ears was the only thing he could hear as his legs carried him across the balcony and after the other.

The Alpha rounded a corner, and so too did Slade.

He had to finish this bastard!

Within seconds, Slade's ascending a set of emergency exit stairs, his katana still clasped firmly in his right hand.

Swiftly reaching the rooftop of the motel complex, Slade finds his prey waiting for him there.

The other Alpha lingers near the far side of the building.

Slade growls, not having anything intelligent to say.

Instinctively, Slade's legs are carrying him forwards as his blade arcs forward, seemingly of its own accord to pierce flesh.

His prey sidesteps out of his range but Slade's blade follows him as he thrust the pointed steel about frantically.

After dodging Slade's sword several times, the other Alpha suddenly stops allowing Slade to run smack dab into him.

Slade swings his blade upwards, hoping to cleave the man's head from his shoulders.

He doesn't though as Slade's prey is suddenly up inside his guard. Slade's katana is pointed upwards towards the sky and the other Alpha has already slipped past it.

How did he, Slade manages to think amidst his fury. How could Slade have been so—

His mind doesn't get a chance to finish that thought however as the other slams into Slade causing him to fall backwards.

One of Slade's feet seeks out the ground behind him, but it's partially not there and his boot slips off of it. None of Slade's limbs were on solid ground and he felt the rest of his body follow his left leg as it descended downwards.

It's quick, Slade knows he's falling off the rooftop from several metres high, but before he can flail too much, it's over.

Pure fury surges through Slade's body at the same time as the pain does. He's sure he hears a crack or a snap and the fire spreading through his lower back makes Slade think his ears heard true.

Something has fractured or broken in his back, that has to be the source of this hurt ravaging his body.

His katana falls from his hand as the Alpha attempts to push himself upwards into a sitting position.

Slade snarls.

He was careless but how dare this prick do this to him! He should have finished this bullshit the moment it started.

It was dark in the alleyway beside the motel, but Slade thinks he can see the bastard peering down from the rooftop at him.

He had to finish this now!

Forcing himself to his feet, pain spikes in Slade's back as his spine threatens to fold in on itself putting him back on his ass.

Grabbing a canister out of the bandolier wrapped around his chest, Slade pushes himself up to his full height and pulls the safety lever off the bomb.

Somehow Slade manages to hurl the grenade upwards towards the motel rooftop before his back collapsed on him.

Slade doesn't see the explosion as his masked face re-falls onto the concrete, but he hears it.

It's that sound like lighting striking the earth and it roars in Slade's ears as the smell of smoke drifted down to him.

Something was probably burning now; Slade hadn't expected the grenade to detonate so violently but all the better for him. That bastard up on the rooftop had better be severely injured or dead now.

The explosion had likely been point blank, and not even Slade had been caught in a powerful, detonation so close to it like that.

I gotta go… I better check, Slade thinks to himself amidst a pounding headache.

Struggling to his feet and mostly supporting himself against the wall, Slade re-sheathed his katana.

The Alpha then hobbled back up to the rooftop of the motel.

He could hear more yelling and screaming around him, though everything seemed distant and far away from Slade's mind.

He was exhausted yet full of volatile rage, almost like that very fire burning within him was burning him out.

When the Alpha finally managed to crawl back up onto the top of the motel, he saw a small fire and smoke billowing up off an object.

The other Alpha had likely tried to run when Slade hurled the grenade up onto the rooftop as the man was face down towards Slade. Red flames illuminated the darkness though Slade wasn't sure if the blackness on the man's body was his still mostly intact clothes or his charred skin. The charcoal-like smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, giving Slade the answer even as his vision was swimming.

Slade lingered near the stairs as his spine protested against any movements, knowing that the other Alpha had to be dead from the way he was silent and not moving.

He didn't even remember this bastard's name, but now that he was dead Slade's… Slade's Omega was safe.

Sirens in the distance alerted Slade to the fact that he had better go as the Alpha then slipped back into the darkness as fast as his aching body would allow him to.

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Author Notes: Next chapter, back to present day.