Monday's classes came and went, and Matthew could honestly say that, for the first time in who knew how how long, he was in a good mood. Sure, the new look didn't seem to do much more then get him a few curious glances due to his sudden change in style, but with himself showing up late to school, and Gilbert leaving early, the typical torment that he had suffered though most days had been absent, and that alone was enough for the lowly Alpha to qualify it as a good day.

To make things even better, Alfred had told the truth, and had joined him for lunch (even if Matt had a feeling that the Omega had skipped a class to do so). It had been far too long since he had had any company for lunch... Probably not since the few Betas that he had occasionally hung out with had pretty much abandon him in fear of being picked on by the albino Alpha as well. Perhaps they were not the best of friends a guy could hope for, but Matthew understood their actions. Betas were often targeted enough already, since hitting them didn't have the same taboo that hitting an Omega did, so who could blame them for wanting to remain under the radar, so to speak?

So, as stated before, all in all, it had been a good day. Granted, Matthew probably wouldn't have been so pleased with how the day had passed if he had known about the note Alfred had secretly slipped into Gilbert's locker on his behalf, shortly after lunch.

The note was simple and to the point.

'It seems that we are unable to come to an understanding, eh? Meet me alone at the skate park at 10:00pm, so that we can settle this once and for all, eh? Unless you are too scared to face me on your own, eh?

Matthew Williams'

It was brilliant. With his careful wording, Al was sure that there was no possible way Gilbert would EVER figure out that it wasn't Matt who had written it.

-o-o-o-o-o-

That 'brilliant note' was the whole reason that he was now standing there, alone in the park, long past closing time. Despite being bundled in the thick, red, hooded sweater that Matthew always seemed to wear, the teenage couldn't help but shiver in the cool, night breeze. Pacing back and forth a few times, impatiently, the blond looked over the empty park in search of his opponent. With the only light being a few flickering street lights, it was difficult to see anything, but a sole figure was soon spotted as Gilbert Beilschmidt stepped into the dim light, and judging by his quick approach, it was clear that the albino saw him as well.

"What the fuck is up with this note?" Gilbert snorted, red eyes narrowed, and once he was close enough to to do so, the Alpha tossed the wrinkle page to the ground between them. The challenge had obviously been accepted. "Do you seriously think that you have a chance to beat the awesome me in a fight?" Hands on hips, the albino sneered at the hooded teen who had dared to call him out, before his lips twisted up into a mean smirk. "Or did you just come here to grovel in private and beg me to stop picking on you, like a little baby Omega? Heh, tell you what... get down on your knees and kiss my boot, and MAYBE I won't use it to kick your ass."

When the sniveling Gilbert had ordered didn't happen right away, and he received nothing but a snort in return, the Alpha clenched his fists in reply to the lack of submission. "Fine. Be like that, but don't say I didn't give you a chance to back down when you go home crying with a busted up face." He said threateningly, taking a step forward as he pounded his fist into his open palm as a preview of what was to come. "So, any last words?"

"The only last words that are gonna be spoken here are your own... when you're begging ME for mercy, ya got that?" Came the reply, and Gilbert paused. That did not sound like the Matthew Williams he knew.

Instinctively he sniffed the air too try and catch the other's scent while squinting into the darkness in hope of get a better view of the guy in front of him, to get some clue as to what was off about him, but before he could tell, the white haired Alpha had to suddenly dodge, when a fist came unexpectedly straight towards his face.

Growling, Gil lunged at the attacker. He could always figure out what was 'wrong' with the other's scent AFTER he kicked his ass, after all.

While the albino might have been in many fights, like most Alphas, Beilschmidt had careful picked his battles to insure a steady stream of victory. Very rarely did he have to fight against someone better then him, but as he side stepped one punch only to take a jab to the kidney a moment later, causing him to fold over in pain, it seemed that he might have met his match.

Holding his own for the moment, the albino felt a wave of satisfaction as he managed to nail his opponent right in the mouth and picked up the familiar scent of blood, but for every hit Gilbert managed to land, it seemed like his opponent managed three more in return, and before he knew it, the Alpha found himself dropping to his knees, dizzy. Panting, Gil flicked his tongue out over his lower lip to lap up an annoying trail of his own blood, and shook his head in denial. There was no fucking way that that could be Matthew Williams. No fucking way.

When a shadow feel over him, the white haired teenager looked up at the man standing above him, once again attempting to make out the feature of his face, but with his eyes now watering and quickly swelling shut, it was even harder to get a good look at the person at this point, then it was before... but still, he clearly saw glasses and was pretty sure that there was a little bit of blonde hair peaking out from under the red hood...

Was the man before him seriously Matthew 'Pussy Ass Alpha' Williams? "There's no way... there's no fuckin' way..." Gil spat, unable to accept that the lowest of the low had seriously beaten him in a fight, and in his rage, attempted to get back up to continue, only to have a knee come up and connect with his temple, knocking him unconscious with one final blow.

"Should have stayed down." The winner snorted, then kicked Gilbert once more in the side for good measure before turning to leave, eager to go home, clean up, and get into something more comfortable before someone noticed him.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Despite how well Monday had gone, Matthew had expected his life to go back to it's normal misery the following day. What he did not expected was to see Alfred jogging down the hall, towards him. Opening his locker, the Canadian put away a few books and items as he waited for the Omega to finish his quick approach, curious about what Al was so hyped up about this early in the morning.

"Hey Al. What's up..." Matt started to greet, but blinked, then gasped in surprise. "What happened to your face?!" He asked in concern as he reached up to cup a bruised cheek and run his thumb over a split lip, anger and irritation that someone would dare hit an Omega slowly feeling him, and altering his scent.

Alfred frowned in return and pushed his hand away. Matthew tried not to let that bother him.

"No time for that now." Al said quickly, as he shrugged his back pack off his the shoulder it was slung over, and quickly unzipped it. Pulling out Matt's red sweat shirt, the Omega shoved it into the Alphas arms before sparing a quick look back, towards the way he had come from. Seeing no one, he continued on. "Listen to me, and listen well, because your life may very well depend on this... Do not break eye contact, no matter what." He said in all seriousness.

Blue eyes flicked down to the hoody in confusion before Matthew looked back up at the distressed Omega. "What are you talk-" He started but was uninterrupted again.

"Do NOT break eye contact." Alfred insisted, then, without another word, darted down the hallway and into the safety of the Omega's rest room. Baffled, Matthew stood their dumbly for a moment, at a total lost, when he heard a familiar shuffling, and the Canadian's stomach clenched in dread as he turned around just in time to see Gilbert and his goons entering the hall.

Surprisingly, the albino stopped in his tracks upon spotting Matthew instead of marching right on over, and it was then that the lower Alpha noticed how battered up Gilbert looked. Eyes black and swollen with a white strip across the bridge of his nose, signaling a fracture. Some one had beaten up the Albino, and good at that.

Beilschmidt's gaze shifted down to the red shirt the other was holding, a shirt that Matt now had a feeling would have the tell tale sign of blood splatters on it if he took the time to look at it closer, but heeding Al's warning, the Alpha did not dare lower his gaze to check.

Red eyes then locked onto his, and Matthew's heart stop. Hands clenched in the shirt that signified his guilt, the seconds grew into what must have been decades, (eons maybe,) as the tension in the air grew thick enough to cut with a knife, when the absolutely, most unbelievable thing that could happen, suddenly happened. Gilbert looked away.

Judging by the looks on his fellow Alpha's faces, they obviously hadn't been expecting such a display from their leader either, and when the Albino turned to take another way to class, the group didn't seem as eager to follow as before. For a brief moment, Matthew felt a flash of sympathy. He knew what those looks meant.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had just shown weakness, and thus, had made himself a target in turn. It wouldn't be long until every Alpha in the school that wanted to make themselves look better among their peers was picking fights with him, trying to get the upper hand while the other wasn't at his best.

Deciding not to dwell on Gilbert's fate, (after all, the guy had been beating on him for the past week, so while Matt might have felt bad for him, he didn't feel THAT bad for him), the blonde Alpha finally looked down at his favorite hoodie. Unfolding it slowly, he then discovered that the front was, indeed, covered with blood, and swallowed hard. What had that crazy Omega gotten him into now?