Scott's POV

I can clean up everything, change the locks, throw out the couch but I can't make him face the truth. Not that it's really my place either. If he wants to forget then by all means I'll lead the way. Yet, I see the pain in his eyes. He likes to think he's this mystery to me but I can read him like a book that I've read a million times over.

So while I don't want to I'll swallow my pride and call up a number a friend of mine gave me. "Hello?" A voice says after two rings. It's oddly familiar and it only takes me a moment to recognize it.

"Yeah is this Ms. Bonnefoy?"

"Perhaps it is." She answers sounding bored. "And is this the same Mr. Kirkland that I called a few months ago?"

I'll play along in her little game for a moment, "Perhaps it is. And perhaps someone has caller ID."

"Perhaps." She answers now sounding smug. "But what can I do for you? Has your client become a problem?"

I stand up and close the door of my home office before answering in a hushed voice, "My problem is my mate has been…" I stop unable to say the word as I sit back down in my chair. It feels like there's a weight on my chest and out of instinct I reach for my fags.

"Your mate has been?" She asks quietly. When I don't answer right away she continues, "Mr. Kirkland…can I call you Scott?"

Once my cigarette is lite I answer, "You can, Ms."

"You can call me Julia if it makes you more comfortable." It's interesting how quickly she can go from bitch to caring. "I've read a bit from the news…"

"Yeah," I say as I take a large inhale of smoke letting it linger in my lungs for a moment before letting it out, "They didn't put everythin' in it…" My mind goes back to that night, what the cops found. "They said that he's blocked it all out."

"It's natural for some." She says after she clears her throat. "It's too painful and was it a full…knot?"

"He didn't get ta." I say covering my eyes with my hand, "I stopped 'im before he got a chance but." I bite my lip, "I can't touch his shoulder without 'im flinchin'. I'm afraid of kissin' or even huggin' 'im. I know I won't hurt him. I ain't afraid of that…" I trail off as the night plays over again in my head.

Why did I have to leave him here alone? I should have caught it sooner or sent someone else. "What are you afraid of?"

It's a loaded question that I don't want to answer. "I…" I reach for another smoke and lighter, "I ain't afraid of much but…what I will admit is I'm afraid of lossin' him, our kid…" My hand starts to shake; I came so close in losing them that night. All because a sick Alpha that thought he could play with other people's lives at will. He got some twisted joy in hurting my Omega anyway he could with anything he could get his hands on. "The bas' used a god damn broom handle!"

I say it before I can stop myself but someone has to know. It's too much for me to bear on my own. "Scott…" Her voice is so gentle it hurts. I don't want her pity nor did I call her for it. "I can only make suggestions for what you can do."

"And what do you suggest?"

"Therapy for both of you."

"I don't need therapy but…I think he should-"

She stops me, "You both should get it because once those walls come down and he lets himself remember you'll have to be there for him. If you prefer I can come to your office or home visit."

"I didn't think doctors made house calls anymore." I say as I finish my second cigarette and snuff it out into my ashtray.

She answers with a hum, "Well most don't but then I'm not your average doctor." If I didn't know any better I would say that was a come on. "I know when someone is crying out for help so I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I never said I was cryin' out for help."

"But you never said you weren't." I let out a sigh and it's all the answer she needs, "I'll call you as soon as I have an opening and we'll sort out the details. Until then…just be there for him." With that she hangs up and I let out another sigh as I sit alone in my office trying to soak in what just happened. When did it become getting him help to I need help?

I've never needed help before and I'm sure as hell, don't need it now. I'm not some weak Beta or Alpha here. "You hungry?"

The door opens wider as I look up at my mate as he walks in with a bowl in his hands. He has a forced smile plastered to his face as he sits the bowl down in front of me. While his mac and cheese smells amazing we both know I won't touch it. I haven't been hungry either but as he goes to leave I reach out for his hand.

His head whips around and for a split second I see pure fear in his eyes, "Alfred, come 'ere…"

"I have to get Peter his." He says instantly as if he's rehearsed this excuse. "Then I have to clean up."

I don't let go of his hand. Instead I stand up and wrap my arms around him. It's as if I'm in slow motion and like I expected he freezes. "Alfred."

"I'm fine." He says as he balls up the back of my shirt into his hands. His walls are falling down around him but all I can think to do is hold him tighter. "I'm fine…"

I hold his head to mine, "I know yah are and we can be fine together." I kiss his temple, "Mo a chuisle mo chroi." I say as he turns to look at me, "I mean every word."

"But what did you say?"

"You're the pulse of my heart and yah always will be." For the first time in days I see a real smile. It's weak but it's there and god how I missed it.