Dawn broke over the Holt home, stirrings its inhabitants. Within a particular room, an unassuming boy shook sleep from his eyes. It had taken his family a long time to accept that he had changed his name, and even longer for them to accept him as a whole. See, the different thing about him was that, biologically, he was a female. He had spent some time pretending to be a boy when his father and brother went missing that he couldn't identify with his female body any longer. As he stretched, he reached into his desk for his binder. However, finding it gone, he began to panic. Rushing from his room, he was presented with the sight of his father placing his binder into the fireplace. He dropped to his knees, eyes full of tears. When his father heard the thump of Pidge, he turned to face him, sneering. "You will be dressed like a proper lady today, Katie. None of this stupid phase where you desire to be a boy. You are a girl, noe act like one!" Pidge trembled, unable to really understand what his father was saying, before he felt a heavy hand connect with his face, sending him sprawling, and a frilly, pink dress thrown into his face. He lifted his head, glaring at his father. "I won't wear this," he growled, only to earn another hit and a prompt kick to the ribs that ripped the breath from his body in a ragged gasp.
Midday found the poor boy behind a gaudy curtain, forced into the dress, feeling like he was going to be sick. His legs gave out suddenly, and he had to crawl to the side of the stage he was on, dry heaving as he tried to rip the dress off. His mind was in tatters, his body still trying to form a logical explanation for the bruises and cuts that littered his body. He hadn't noticed any of the abuse, having passed out after the first slash across his chest that still sang of the pain, still praised the silver kiss of hot steel. His legs were tattered as well, blood running in slow waves down his body. He did not know what his father did, but he knew he was still pure in that particular area. His father was cruel, but even he wouldn't do that. Slowly, he rose to his feet, walking to the curtain. What would happen to him?
The taunts and jeers were nothing. He was viewed by several different Alphas, both while clothed and naked. Each one sniffed at his glands, before reeling back, disgusted at the scent. Due to his body naturally forming to his male state of mind, his scent had changed from his former lilac-and-honey scent to a sour, birch-and-mountain-air stench that naturally warded suitors off. The stench of the local mountains sent even the toughest Alpha running home to Mother; the Mountains spelt death for any who stepped foot there, all except Pidge. He had been going to the Mountains since he was a kid. He had discovered himself there, and the Mountains had saved his life more than once from his father, who wanted to kill him.
The next suitor was a tall, fair male of about 25. His hair fascinated Pidge, for a flash of it was snow white, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the robot arm that branched from his bicep. For a moment, he forgot the pain to focus on the fascinating feature, almost unaware when the male bent to sniff him. He became still, expecting the man to flinch away like all of the others, only to grow surprised when the man drew another deep breath. "You are not female," he said once he had pulled away, slightly woozy. Pidge blinked, before slowly shaking his head. "N-No. I'm not, I haven't been for three years," he whispered, looking away. The man gently placed a hand on Pidge's face, gently turning his head. "I'm going to get you out of here," he rumbled. Pidge blinked for a moment, before his brain decided now would be a good time to take a nap, and he promptly passed out.