Warning: A glimpse at what caused the injuries discovered in the last chapter

Story

Looking back, Jack's alpha troubles probably really started when Bert left, though it hadn't looked like it would cause troubles at the time.

Bert was probably about the best alpha Jack could hope for. He was patient, protective without being possessive, brotherly (or as Jack felt in his secret heart of hearts, fatherly), and he had modern views on how much freedom omegas under his care should be given. That is to say, Jack was encouraged in his career, allowed to keep his own space, his own earnings (even though, as his master through his apprenticeship, Bert was actually entitled to some of his wages for compensation), allowed his own opinions and choices, and basically been given all the freedom as though he were a beta while still having a support system to fall back on.

That is not to say that Bert thought all omegas should simply be free of alphas entirely. He wasn't that modern.

"It's biology," he explained once. "Omegas need alphas…and alphas need omegas. And we all need betas to balance us out. Keeps us all happy, same as having food and a coat. Don't mean you're not an adult, mind, but we can all use a helping hand."

And when Jack was truly an adult, and had learned all Bert had to teach him, Bert decided he'd like to see a bit more of the world. Jack, who was only just finding his feet in London, was happy enough to stay behind with his leerie friends and experience the joys of still being young enough that being an adult was a novelty.

Bert didn't just cut and run, of course. He was a bit of a free spirit, being his own master and deciding each day what he wanted to do, but he took his responsibilities seriously too, especially when his responsibility was tied up in a friend. So he made sure Jack was settled with a new alpha, that Jack had his Pack with the leeries, and even introduced Jack to an older lady as a sort of backup alpha, knowing as he did how the unexpected can cause unforeseen difficulties.

No one could have thought he needed a backup for his backup.

Bert left, and Jack had a small flat he shared with a couple of his omega mates and he was comfortable enough with Chalky, Bert's alpha friend who agreed to keep an eye on Jack, that Jack could go to him when he felt the need for an alpha's comfort. And he had Matilda, the old lady, to visit from time to time as well. As Bert had said, it was biology. Omegas needed alphas.

It was also the law.

About a year after Bert left, Matilda died. She was old, and it wasn't exactly shocking, but at the same time it was unexpected. One day she seemed as spry as ever, then the next she'd caught a bit of a cold, and a week later was the funeral.

Jack was sad but he wasn't heartbroken. She was a nice sort of acquaintance he took tea with about once a week, but she wasn't a close friend. She wasn't his Alpha. Bert knew her better. Jack attended the funeral and then spent about a week with Chalky, more clingy than usual due to the unexpected loss, and then he went on with his life and only occasionally thought of Matilda, and then with a fond sort of remembrance, without grief.

He did fret, a bit, that he had no way of passing on the news to Bert. Bert wrote from time to time, mostly to share pictures as he was more comfortable with art than letters, but by the time Jack got the letter, Bert would doubtless have moved on from wherever it was sent from, and Bert himself didn't know where he planned to go next.

Acting on a bit of whimsy, Jack did write the letter anyway, then tossed it in the fire, letting the draft bear it up. Likely the fire consumed it in the end. At any rate, Bert made no mention of receiving any such letter.

So Jack was down one alpha, but he had Chalky, and that was enough. Until the incident.

Biologically speaking, Chalky was Jack's alpha up until such a time as Chalky cast him aside or Jack found a new alpha. In the eyes of a law, Chalky was Jack's alpha right up to the point when Chalky willfully engaged in indecent behaviors.

To put it simply, Chalky was found drunk and disorderly one too many times. Added onto this, he attempted to punch a policeman. He was lucky enough to miss, which meant a night behind bars, rather than being detained for a month. There was also a fine. And he was declared unfit as a guardian to others.

The fine was a hardship; It took his own savings, Jack's savings, Angus's savings (Jack wasn't the only omega in his pack) and a very tight budget for two months afterwards to pay it.

Being declared an unfit guardian was disastrous, not least because Jack happened to have been picked up with him.

To put the entire incident less simply, Jack had been at the Red Cow (or the Flaming Row, as the leeries tended to refer to it, or the Torch for short) with Chalky and Angus and just about his entire pack. Leeries, as a rule, did not stay out late, considering they had to be up rather early. On the other hand, it was winter, when the lights were lit early in the evening, and turned down late in the morning, and the cold was enough to drive anyone into a pub just for a bit of warmth.

The warmth Jack found was in the fire, but also in his friendships, and it was a very warm evening indeed. Chalky found his warmth in his drink, as did many of the men and women there. Jack was less inclined in that direction, simply enjoying the atmosphere and general fun that seemed to arise when the leeries all got together. So when Angus said he knew a great place for a bit of kick and prance, to the general approval and merriment of all present, Jack was ready to join in. So was Chalky.

Chalky didn't have the coordination for dancing at the best of times, but he'd drunken enough to think it a great idea. No one minded how bad he was at it anyway; it was amusing to watch him try and they weren't the kind of people to do more than a bit of lighthearted teasing at the other man's shortcomings.

The place Angus had found was a quiet little corner with plenty of space for moving and jumping, with just the right sort of obstacles to make it more fun; lamp posts and trash bins and benches and the like. Someone had a fiddle and someone else turned an old bin into a drum and soon they had a rhythm going and a bit of music, that those inclined could sing to, and a proper dance was started and no one minded being out in the cold when the dance was keeping them warm, and there was laughter and antics and fun.

Jack felt warm all over, almost glowing as he joined in, though he always, in those moments, felt a faint sort of emptiness…a sort niggle of incompleteness, like not quite all his Pack was there. He sometimes thought it was Bert that was missing. Sometimes, when he noted companions pairing up, he wondered if he wasn't missing a person he hadn't even met yet; the alpha who wasn't just to be his companion, but his mate. Other times, he was quite certain it was a person he knew well, who was Pack, but not his mate (not even an alpha, but a beta), a person even more inclined to roam than his erstwhile alpha.

He didn't pine in Mary Poppins's absence, but when he was at his most content, having the most fun, felt the most companionable…he noticed all wasn't quite perfect. That didn't lessen his enjoyment any, (in some ways made his enjoyment better, like adding a bit of salt to the biscuits to bring out the sweetness) but it did make those times when she did come all the better.

He couldn't help but keep one eye upwards, outwards, just in case.

Mary Poppins didn't join them that evening. Jack liked to think that if she had known what would happen in her absence, she would have come. Jack liked to think she'd care enough to intervene.

Someone in their quiet little corner of London didn't care for their dance. Police were called for, and police came.

Jack had a great respect for the police of London. He admired their dedication towards protecting and serving her citizens. He recognized that it was a dangerous and difficult job, and not one he'd take on in a hurry.

He also knew that not all of his friends felt quite the same respect towards them, and with justifiable reason. In the first place, it is an institution made up of human beings, and human beings are corruptible and they are liable to prejudice and people of Jack's social class were generally on the wrong side of said prejudice and corruption.

So when the whistle shrilly intruded across their music and voices shouted for them to all 'Move along! Party's over! Get to your homes!' Jack was disappointed at the interruption, but not unduly alarmed or angered. If he was annoyed, it was at whoever had complained and had the police called in, not at the men doing their jobs.

Jack's friends were less inclined to be reasonable.

Some ran. Some kept dancing. Some called insults, interspersed with invitations to join them, as they ran about in the darkness, impossible to catch. Jack didn't join in that kind of fun, but he didn't run either. His friends were there, and he felt a need to see them safely home. Chalky, for one, was quite drunk and had been having a great time attempting complicated steps that continuously almost had him sprawled on the concrete if the leeries didn't catch him and set him right each time. Chalky wasn't inclined to run either.

"Wh're y' 'trudin' 'r fun?" he demanded with a voice so slurred by drink it was near impossible to understand, but the belligerent tone was easy enough to decipher.

"Just you move along, before we have you in for being drunk and disorderly," an officer told him sternly, admirably ignoring the young man prancing behind him and making faces. Or perhaps he hadn't actually noticed Angus there.

"You move 'long," was Chalky's brilliantly thought out answer, complete with an attempt to poke at the officer. Jack jumped in just then, managing to slide between the two before the situation could become worse as he knocked Chalky's attempt at poking into being an arm around Jack's shoulder.

"'Scuse us, officer," Jack said in what he meant to be a respectful tone. "I'll just get this one home to bed."

And that probably would have been that, except for Angus.

"See that you do," said the officer sternly. Angus copied him at his back with such ridiculous likeness that Jack (who was far from drunk but had had his share, and was still on a high from the dance besides) laughed out loud. And so did several other officers, who had witnessed the scene.

The officer being mocked had spun around with unexpected agility, grabbed Angus by the arm, and given him a bit of a shake, shouting, "You young scallywag!"

Chalky was not the most aggressive of alphas, and, sober, he might even have laughed and said Angus deserved what he got. Drunk, and already feeling displeased with the officer, he wasn't about to let this clear attack on his omega go.

With a roar of rage, Chalky swung at the officer. Thanks to being less than coordinated, he missed by a good foot. Jack hardly knew who to try and help at that point; whether to free Angus or try to drag Chalky away before he made things worse.

Angus made things easier by escaping on his own, using Chalky's attack as a distraction. The officers converged on Chalky, seeing him as the clear threat, and Jack, terrified they'd soon resort to knocking the man senseless (a not unreasonable fear), didn't take his own chance to run away, intent on making Chalky back down and see reason.

Chalky didn't want to see reason, but with his omega between him and the officers he stopped swinging at them, and the officers in turn lowered their batons.

The police decided to grab anyone who hadn't run off, which was mostly those who were too drunk to do so, and Jack, who was too anxious for Chalky's safety to do the sensible thing and run.

Anyway, they were police, and no matter the horror stories his friends had on the matter, at heart they were good people. Jack was certain of this. At heart, most people were good people. There were exceptions; he wasn't a fool and he wasn't naïve. He just refused to allow a few true monsters to destroy his outlook on life.

And Jack's belief proved justified, because they took him in but they didn't charge him with anything, recognizing his attempts to calm the situation. Besides, he was an omega. Omegas aren't responsible for their own actions, not in the way betas and alphas are.

In some ways, Jack's presence made things worse.

"It is bad enough, Charles Stone," said the judge sternly, the next day when Chalky was sober and ready to be held accountable for his actions, "That you get picked up every other week for your misbehavior…"

"It's been three months since the last time!" Chalky protested, perhaps not wisely, particularly since 'three months' wasn't much better than 'every other week' to be picked up by police.

"…but to bring a young, impressionable omega with you!"

"I'm thirty years old," Jack pointed out, somewhat pointlessly. For one, the judge was sixty himself, and rather inclined to think 'thirty' was quite young. For another, Jack could have been fifty, and the judge would still have been looking on his like a poor, misled child, simply because he was an omega. In fact, all his interruption gained was a pitying glance before the stern gaze returned to Chalky.

"Inciting violence and rioting," the judge continued, "Attacking Officer Johnson…"

"I missed!" Chalky pointed out, and Jack wondered if there was a way to cover Chalky's mouth before he helped his case any more, without being too obvious.

"This is not the responsible behavior of one entrusted with a duty of care towards the vulnerable of our society," the judge insisted. "And I am relieving you of that duty. You have been found incompetent and unfit as a guardian, and so you have no right to act in that capacity towards any man, woman, or child."

The fine was almost an afterthought. And he was to stay another night behind bars, aside from the one already spent sobering up.

"You are free to go," the judge then said to Jack, in a sickeningly gentle tone, full of pity for the poor omega forced to put up with a drunken brute of an alpha. "…Just as soon as you can call on a responsible alpha to collect you."

"…I don't know any other alphas," Jack was forced to admit. He knew Matilda, but she was now dead. He knew Bert, but Bert was somewhere out in the world and not in London. Chalky had already been taken away. The rest of his Pack were all omegas or betas. One of them probably knew an alpha he could call on, but he didn't think the judge would appreciate him sending for all his Pack to ask.

He didn't know Jane Banks yet. It would be a few months before that happy meeting.

If he had some way of calling on Mary Poppins, he might have tried her. She wasn't an alpha, of course, but he couldn't see any judge that would dare turn her away. She could probably have walked right in, and then out again with Jack and Chalky behind her and no one would find a reasonable objection to detain them. And she'd do it in the most respectable way imaginable.

She wasn't there, though, and she wasn't likely to be, and Jack could no sooner ask her to come than he could ask Bert. The judge was more sympathetic than ever…and even less inclined to simply let a poor defenseless omega just walk out the door into the big bad London all by himself.

"That's no difficulty, my boy," he said. "We can have an alpha appointed to you."

And that was when Jack met Bill. Or, as Bill insisted on being called, 'Sir'. In fact, he preferred 'Master', but accepted 'Sir' as an alternative.

If Bert was a modern alpha, Bill was about as medieval as it was possible to be.

He was shorter than Jack, which was unusual as alphas are typically larger, but even when they aren't, they are still stronger. Bill might look small, and he had glasses, but he felt…larger somehow; dangerous. He smiled at Jack when they were introduced, and Jack took one look at those smiling lips, and unsmiling, cold eyes, and something inside him screamed 'run!'.

Instead, he had to allow the alpha to take his hand and lead him back into the street, and into a cab, and he listened as the address was given and couldn't help but say, "That's not my address."

"It is now," answered the alpha with the same cold smile, and there was no point in arguing, not then and there. The cab driver wasn't going to listen to an omega's instructions over an alpha's, and Jack couldn't exactly jump out and run, especially since the law was on Bill's side.

Bill was smart enough to keep a hold on Jack's wrist when they got out, and Jack thought it prudent to bide his time and allowed himself to be led into Bill's flat. It was small and dingy, for all the man appeared to hold a respectable position in society, respectable enough that the judge had seen him fit as a guardian.

"I live simply," Bill explained, a slightly defensive tone creeping into his voice despite the fact that Jack hadn't actually said anything. "And I shouldn't think you're used to much better."

"My place is cleaner, at least," Jack answered, knowing as he said it that it was unwise but feeling trapped and uneasy so he needed to find his own footing and answer back. Bill looked him up and down coldly, and Jack did his best not to cringe away or bare his neck. He couldn't stop his own instincts though, his instincts that sensed a dangerous predator in front of him, and his head twitched to the side anyway, his eyes sliding down and away, avoiding challenging the other man.

"I leave that to you," was all Bill said. "Cleaning is an omega's job."

"I'm not staying here," Jack answered, wishing he dared to say it while looking Bill in the face, but somehow he couldn't lift his eyes above his chin. "And I have a proper job. I'm a leerie."

"What are your wages?" Bill asked with some interest, completely ignoring Jack's first statement. To this, Jack remained silent, not appreciating the alpha's interest in his earnings. He knew there were omegas who gave all their wages to their alpha, trusting the alpha to handle all their finances, but Bert had never even taken what was due him as Jack's teacher.

"I expect to be answered when spoken to," Bill said, almost mildly. "And you may call me Master William. Or Sir." And when Jack didn't answer that, Bill went from mild to aggressive almost quicker than Jack could process. One moment, Jack was staring at the man's chin while biding his time wondering how soon he could get away back to his own flat, and what they were going to do about Chalky's fine, and whether Angus made it home alright, and basically looking forward to getting out of this horrible situation and putting it all behind him.

The next moment, an aggressive alpha, with a horrific snarl, had grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against a wall.

Jack reacted as just about any omega would in that situation, offering his throat with a whimper, head turned away, body still and exposed, submissive. It was humiliating, but instinctive. It was also effective, because Jack was let go and even left alone until his heartbeat settled back into something less akin to that of a frightened rabbit.

"I think you've been let alone too long by that horrid excuse for an alpha," Bill decided. "I think you need a little lesson in respect."

Bill's idea of 'lesson' had Jack bent over a chair, shirt pushed up out of the way, while Bill made use of his belt. Jack wasn't inclined to go along, only he was already feeling alone and vulnerable and when Bill used his full Command voice to say, "Bend over that chair now!" Jack was in position before his brain caught up to suggest he shouldn't, and a "Stay there!" was enough to hold him in place.

"Let's start with ten, since you're new," Bill decided.

He was kind enough to fold the belt and avoided using the buckle. It was somewhat hard for Jack to appreciate his kindness. At any rate, that was the only kindness he afforded. Bill used his full alpha strength from the first lash, and Jack, despite every intention to accept the beating stoically, cried out at the shock of pain.

By the tenth, Jack was crying through clenched teeth, a strong mixture of anger, and humiliation, and fear, and pain making him feel almost too much. Jack wanted to strike back. He wanted to be a million miles away. He wanted his alpha (his Real Alpha) to come and teach this imposter a lesson. And he didn't want his alpha, because he didn't want to be seen in this humiliating situation, to be seen bent over, to be seen allowing the beating, when he wasn't even restrained. To be seen beaten.

This wasn't going to be a permanent situation. He knew his rights as an omega, and he had the right to choose his own alpha, and this was the last alpha in the entire world he'd ever choose.

But Jack wasn't stupid, so when Bill asked, "Now, omega, what do you say?", "Thank you, Sir, for correcting me," is what he said and not, "I'm out of here, you violent, crazy psychopath! Try that again and I'll hang you with your own belt!" like he rather wanted to say.

"Hmm…I'd prefer Master William, but that will do. You can start cleaning now, and later you can show me to your workplace and I'll see if I approve."

What he meant, Jack rather thought, was 'I'll find out what money I can make out of you, now that you're mine.'

Jack obediently started to clean, ignored the way his back protested every movement, pushed down the desperate need in his chest for comfort (for his Alpha, for other omegas, for his Pack), blinked away the tears that wanted to fall. And the moment Bill was slightly distracted, Jack was out the door.

It was distressingly easy to get home; Bill lived far too close for comfort, but he was home and he was away from Bill and the nightmare that his life would become if Bill had his way, and Angus was there (safe), and so were several other leeries, his Pack (but no Chalky, of course) and they drew him close, and asked him where he'd been and what had happened.

Jack told them what had happened to Chalky. He even told them he'd been sent home with Bill and had escaped and come back. He didn't mention the beating, and liked to imagine none of them would ever know (but they weren't stupid and Jack knew they weren't, and for not knowing they were far too gentle with him, far too careful).

And Jack thought that was the end of Bill. Only Bill didn't think that was the end.