A/N: So, it's been quite a while since my last update to this story. I've been stuck on the next chapter and thought it'd be a good idea to skip ahead and try writing another section - it was not a good idea. I'm sorry if this chapter seems significantly shorter than the others, but I felt like this would be a decent update to show I'm still alive and trying to work through writer's block.

It's no secret that I've taken to posting works on AO3, and for a while I debated the merits of discontinuing updates to this website altogether. But some of my older stories came to mind and I had to begin returning to them.

To the readers that are still reading my works, thank you and if you've given up on me, that's fine too. I'll miss your reviews, but sometimes reading preferences change.

I hope this chapter appeases the masses still following this story and answers as to who Trevor was talking to in the last chapter.

Trigger Warning for those that are affected by mentions of domestic abuse, there is an implied reference to spousal abuse but no defined details.

Reviews are always treasured - good or bad. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Sad-Blue-Eyed-Angel 2010

It seemed like since Alan had finally gathered the courage to reach out to his brothers and father for help with escaping his worsening situation, he'd also realized that he could rely on his family. He'd had many heart - to - hearts with his father, mostly revolving around his reasons for why he hadn't felt like he could contact his family. His therapist had encouraged him to talk to his family and not to shield them from the atrocities that had been done to him during the couple years he had been kept separate. But his therapist had also encouraged him to reconnect with his previous girlfriend when Alan brought her up during a discussion. One of his meetings with Dr. Hoover had consisted of Alan pouring his heart out about his love for Octavia and how he feared her reaction to his abuse from his former roommate.

"Alan, I know we've only been talking twice a week for the last month and a half. But you've continuously brought Octavia up in many of our previous discussions. You've also said several times that you haven't seen Octavia in person since you broke up, but that you're talking to her regularly now. Would you mind asking her to come in and meet you here? This would be a good neutral meeting ground for you two to see where you'd like this to go." Dr. Hoover asked as she folded one leg over the top of her other leg. She wore her hair down this time, not at all in the same conservative bun at the nape of her neck, but her greying hair was cascading around her shoulders.

"I don't know…aren't you a therapist that specializes only in domestic violence?" Alan questioned, feeling unsure. He'd taken to chewing on his bottom lip, visibly showing his anxiousness at the idea of Octavia coming with him or meeting him for a joint counseling session.

"Predominately, yes. I only deal with victims of domestic violence. But in this case, your former girlfriend was a victim of circumstance. She saw you immediately following one of your assaults from Trevor and so could be considered as a victim of circumstance. She's a nurse as you've mentioned, so it's likely that she's already sought help if any was needed following your bad breakup. But if you wanted to meet her on neutral ground, because seeing her again could cause some of those old feelings of hurt to resurface. The important thing you must know is that you need to take it slow. Don't just jump back into the old ways because you're talking again, even if you've previously said that you're comfortable talking with her on the phone."

"Okay." Alan sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dr. Hoover glanced at the clock over Alan's head and smiled at him.

"Looks like we've had another successful talk, I'm out for vacation through next week. Did you need to schedule an appointment with my partner associate?"

Alan was most comfortable with Dr. Hoover; he'd seen her partner associate – a young man about Scott's age. He seemed…nice, but Alan didn't want to re-live the painful memories with someone new. He was exhausted after those first few appointments, only going to bed as soon as he got back on the island and sleeping for several days after. Virgil had made it known that he thought Alan had slipped into a depression, a backslide effect from having to reopen raw wounds and pouring salt and lemon juice in for added burn.

"Thank you, but no. I'll be fine while you go on vacation." Alan reassured Dr. Hoover. "Did we want to make the next appointment where I invite Octavia?"

"Whenever you feel it's appropriate Alan. These are your sessions, not mine. I'm just the person that listens to you and offers help where needed. If you'd rather not, you don't have to have Octavia here. It was merely a suggestion." Dr. Hoover said as she flipped open her planner book, checking her availability.

Alan thought about it for a few minutes while Dr. Hoover looked over her planner. He did want to see Octavia again; she'd been hinting during their frequent talks that she'd like to meet up and have lunch or dinner sometime. Alan hadn't outright refused to meet up, at least not saying the dreaded no. But he'd redirected conversation numerous times when it'd begun to creep into that direction. But, as Dr. Hoover had said during one of their previous talks, he had to do it when he felt ready to revisit a part of his past that had been part of the pain.

"Can we schedule the appointment with Octavia to take place after the New Year? I think I've dealt with enough hell this year and to be honest, I don't fancy going through it again so soon." Alan asked, continuing to chew on his bottom lip. His brother Virgil had pointed out the anxious gesture after Gordon had spilled the beans that he'd caught Alan with a cigarette that night on the balcony. His father had asked for the smokes, and he'd gently urged Alan to throw them away if he wasn't smoking them. He didn't like the idea of any of his boys smoking, not after watching his father decline while smoking worse than a chimney. Alan began chewing on his lip soon after because his coping mechanism was disrupted.

"Certainly, that would work. I'll be out of the country for the next two weeks on vacation and then our office is closed unless emergency help is needed for the Christmas Holiday. My partner associate and I are both going out of state to visit our respective families. And we'll re-open the week after Christmas and close for the New Year celebrations. Would the fifth of January work?

"It would." Alan smiled at his therapist. Just as he was extending his hand to shake Dr. Hoover's, there was a small knock on the door. Dr. Hoover opened the door and she smiled.

"Alan, this is Fletcher. He's my partner associate. Fletcher, this is my client, Alan." Dr. Hoover introduced her client to the other doctor.

"Alan, it's my pleasure." Fletcher greeted, gentle smile disarming Alan's earlier reservations. He still didn't want to talk to another therapist, but he'd yet to meet the man who would be available if Alan was in crisis. "My name is Fletcher Jamison."

"Pleasure to meet you." Alan hesitated in shaking Fletcher's hand, before the older man looked to Dr. Hoover.

"Sonya, there's been a change in our scheduling." Alan knew he'd been dismissed, and he walked over to the pegs on the wall where he'd hung his coat. He couldn't help but overhear the two therapists though. "Your three o'clock is in the hospital. She left the safe house and returned home to attempt to repair their marriage. Her wife attacked her and beat her up so badly that when she returned to the safe house, her advocate barely recognized her. She was taken to the hospital and is in a bad way."

Alan exited the cozy suite and made his way to the bank of elevators. He hoped to never have another encounter with Trevor. With the way he'd treated him, he could only imagine the damage he could inflict. Pulling up the sleeve to his arm, Alan gazed at his forearm. He could envision the bruises that littered his arm like tattoos, and he'd traced his fingers around his wrist, where Trevor's hand had gripped so tight that Alan could still remember yelping in pain.

Burying his hands in the pockets of his jacket, Alan walked along the streets of Manhattan. He'd begged his father and brothers to let him leave the penthouse alone. Gordon had come with him this time, offering to take him shopping for some new materials for pranks. Alan hadn't been much for pranks since his return, being too jumpy at unexpected screams or angered roars from his older brothers. As he walked, Alan allowed himself to get lost in his memories. He thought it was unbelievable that it'd already been a little over three months since he'd called Virgil and told him the truth about why he was staying so distant.

In that time, Alan had been to the police and given an official report, documenting the abuse. A doctor from the hospital that had initially seen Alan the year previous was kind enough to corroborate Alan's story of abuse going back at least as far as a year. Virgil had given a statement of how his brother had appeared to him after that fated phone call and they'd also been given a date for Trevor to be seen in court.

Alan had been encouraged by their father and oldest brother to take out a restraining order against Trevor, though Alan had argued that a piece of paper would do nothing to protect him if Trevor caught him in a secluded alley after he got out of jail. But he'd filed for the restraining order which was granted after the judge had reviewed the damning evidence. And Trevor had been scheduled for arraignment. The whole family had come with Alan to Manhattan then. They'd all wanted to show their support for Alan when he was asked by the police to make an appearance.

That had been full of fireworks. Trevor had screamed at Alan that he'd kill Alan the moment he was free. Alan was whisked from the room by members of his family while the bailiff and deputies had struggled to get Trevor under control.

Knowing better than to do what he was thinking of, which was calling Octavia, Alan continued walking. He just let his feet lead him, not paying attention to his surroundings. He let his thoughts wander, going back to the last night that Alan stayed with Trevor, prior to Virgil and Gordon's arrival.

'"Aren't you going to close the door?" Trevor asked, making Alan's stomach sink to the soles of his feet. "So, where'd you go? It's a little late for a walk this time of night…isn't it?"

Alan did not know what to think, now he was really wishing he had accepted Virgil's offer of a motel room. He did not want to face Trevor, not right now, not when he was so close to freedom. The longer he stalled at the door however, the more chance he stood at having Trevor come to him and physically drag him inside.

It was against his better judgement, but Alan closed the door though he stayed close by. Trevor on the other hand was not too happy about Alan not coming to him and he walked into the entry of the kitchen where the front door was. Trevor was holding a smoldering cigarette between his lips, his eyes still hazy from the amount of alcohol he'd drank, and he still staggered a little when he took another step further into the kitchen.

"Well, didn't your parents ever teach you it's rude not to reply when spoken to? Huh?" Trevor asked before he closed the distance between Alan and himself and physically grabbed Alan's arm. "Get in here!"

Alan didn't know what came over him, but he yanked his arm up, breaking Trevor's hold on him while he chose, he was done letting Trevor push him around. "Get your hands off me!"

"You're going to regret that!" Trevor said as he turned immediately with his fist raised.'

Alan physically shivered in revulsion as he felt the phantom grasp of Trevor's hands on him. Trevor wasn't inappropriate with him, but it was grossly inappropriate the way he exerted his strength over Alan by kicking and hitting him while he was incapable of getting up and defending himself.

Trevor wasn't much bigger than Alan, but prior to becoming Alan's roommate had boasted many times about how he'd been raised in a fighting family. His parents encouraged him during wrestling and judo, even learning muy tai and kickboxing. His mother and father were both avid viewers of the sport, having met when they themselves were attending underground fights while in college. They'd raised their kids to love the sport, partake in it even and encouraged fighting.

At the time, Alan hadn't thought much of it. He and Trevor hadn't exactly been friends, just being teammates first, then moving on to roommates. Trevor had always been closer with the other guys in the pit crew or other racers. But considering Alan's age, hadn't thought it was wise to befriend a kid that wasn't of legal age to drink.

But that had been fine by Alan. He wasn't really the party animal type, enjoying quiet evenings in with a good movie or book.

"Alan? Dude! How have you been!"

The voice snapped Alan out of his thoughts, and he quickly rejoined the realm of the present. The blonde looked around, seeing an old teammate that Alan truly wished had wanted a roommate instead of Trevor.

"Jessie!" Alan smiled at the sight of his old teammate.

"In the flesh dude, where've you been? You just fell off the face of the planet." Jessie said, opening his arms with a big grin. "Bring it in man, Jesus, I missed you!"

Alan willingly hugged his former teammate, a big smile making his cheeks cramp up from how wide he was smiling.

"I've…I've been…okay." Alan struggled to say what happened, the memory of it still too raw.

"Well, come on! Buddy won't believe it. You've been a sight for sore eyes." Jessie said as he looped an arm over Alan's shoulders and pulled him inside the spacious garage. "Yo! Buddy! Look what the cat dragged in!"

The older man looked up from where he was tinkering under the hood of a vehicle and had to do a double take. He rose up so fast that he smacked his head under the hood. The resulting grumbling was enough to make both Alan and Jessie hiss in sympathy.

"You alright Buddy?" Alan asked, knowing that Buddy should be wearing his joked about helmet that he and their gathered team bought him as a gag gift considering how often he accidently slammed his head under the hood, or the hood came down on his head because the support wasn't placed correctly.

"Yeah, I'm good boy." Buddy grumbled as he rubbed at the sore spot in the back of his head. He raised his gaze and dropped his hand to look at Alan. "You just back to visit or itching to get back in the game? You never returned any of my calls when I checked to see if you were keen to practice after the off season ended."

"Um, just visiting…actually, there was something I wanted to ask you." Alan started, before he indicated Buddy's office. "Could we maybe talk in private?"

"Sure son, it's about time I catch up with one of my favorite protégé's." Buddy said as he led Alan along behind himself. "Can I get you a soda?"

To make a point, Buddy put a couple coins in the vending machine and bought a root beer. He looked back at Alan as he made to put a couple more coins in to buy something for Alan. As much as Alan didn't really want a soda, he figured having something to hold would keep him from fidgeting.

"Sure." Alan accepted the root beer from Buddy and after he bought another, they went into the cramped office. Buddy drew the blinds'; sensing Alan was going to be discussing some rather heavy material. Alan had never given a reason behind not returning to the racing circuit, just not showing up when scheduled and then not returning altogether.

It was very curious.

Jessie watched from afar as Buddy and Alan both went into Buddy's office. He truly missed the kid. He was like their resident little brother. Just like how Charlie, their resident badass mechanic was their resident little sister. Jessie shook his head, glad for the opportunity to see Alan in person. He'd been really worried these last few months, Trevor had continued showing up to the garage, running the races and partaking in circuits. But every time Jessie, Buddy or Charlie voiced Alan's name, it'd never fail to incense Trevor, for reasons nobody could explain.

There was the distant sound of a toilet flushing and Jessie chanced a glance over his shoulder to see Jake, zipping the fly to his trousers.

"What are you all smiley about?" Jake asked, as he looked around for a reason. "You just get blown or something?"

"No, and dude…that's gross. I wouldn't want anyone's mouth near…just no." Jessie frowned, crossing his arms. "No, Alan came to visit. How cool is that?"

"Alan? That little blonde pipsqueak that followed the racers around like a lost puppy?" Jake asked, being one of the few that wasn't overly fond of Alan, again for reasons that Jessie couldn't explain.

"The blonde Adonis that both girls and guys fawned over? Worlds over. Yeah." Jessie correctly, rolling his eyes at Jake.

"What is he your boyfriend or something?" Jake asked, narrowing his gaze at Jessie.

"I admire his racing ability and himself as a person, he's not my boyfriend." Jessie defended. "Besides, my girlfriend tells me all the time that she's had a crush on Alan since she saw him on the circuit. It doesn't bother me, Alan and I have talked before and he's said that while Clair is nice, she's not his type. Too hyperactive. That just happens to be what gets my engines revving."

"I didn't need to know what makes you or your girlfriend hot and bothered, but whatever. So, what's the pipsqueak doing here?" Jake asked, trying to figure out how to talk to Alan.

"Don't know…talking to Buddy right now. Maybe he plans to come back sometime. I wouldn't mind trying to beat him in a couple heat laps." Jessie said before walking away to go find Charlie. She was supposed to help him switch out his rims. Hopefully make him faster on the track.

After Jessie left Jake, the older guy leaned back against the wall. He was trying to figure out the answer to his little problem.

"I knew he had a bad anger problem, but I never would have figured he'd be the type to raise his hand to anyone. Let alone someone as kind as you. It just blows my mind." Buddy said as he gazed down into the open mouthpiece of his soda. He was slowly absorbing what Alan had told him about the recent events and why Alan hadn't been returning any calls. It was mind boggling.

"I didn't want to believe it either. I mean, I could forgive the first two or three times, blow it off for raised tensions after a race that didn't go as expected. But then when it began occurring even without races, after a night at the bar didn't end in a one night stand or some other happy ending – it became that much harder to acknowledge that I'd fallen victim to such an unbelievable circumstance. I mean…me…I shouldn't…you never think it could happen to you."

"You're preaching to the choir son. I know what you mean." Buddy said, chewing his lip briefly. "Before I met Carol, she was in a similar situation. Only, her ex-husband took things much farther. I won't give a name to what he did to her, because it's her truth to tell not mine. I met her when I was replacing roof shingles for the shelter she'd sought out. Till it happens to you…then no one knows how you feel."

Alan lowered his head, glad that Buddy understood. He was taking it rather well, knowing that Trevor was why Alan hadn't returned to the circuit.

"Rest assured that I won't have him on my team, I don't support abusive assholes. You've got my backing." Buddy said. "The offer still stands should you decide that you want to come back in the future after you get your shit back together."

"Thanks Buddy. I appreciate it." Alan smiled when Buddy stood up to clasp hands with Alan. The kid was a great racer and Buddy believed that Alan had what it took to go all the way.

Jake saw the door to Buddy's office open and he raised a hand in greeting when he saw Alan exit first. The younger blonde returned the gesture, waving with a broad grin on his face. It almost made Jake feel bad.

Almost…but not quite.

Trevor was his friend long before Alan and he became roommates. And despite knowing that Trevor had always had an explosive temper, he still felt a loyalty to him that Alan clearly didn't know anything about. Figuring out the solution to his problem, Jake figured he'd wait for Alan to approach him. It'd seem wrong for him to ask, but if Alan offered, well…where was the harm in that?

Jake didn't approach Alan, choosing instead to go back to working on the vehicle he'd been detailing. It took some time, Alan's laughter could be heard as he made his rounds through the garage, visiting with all the racers and pit crew that he'd developed a bond or friendship with. Charlie had practically tackled him, her excitement making her run to Alan. The blonde managed not to flinch or jump, catching Charlie when she threw herself at him. The redhead beamed at her friend.

Jake just rolled his eyes. He kept to his work, hearing Alan gradually come closer, until as predicted the younger man was standing beside Jake.

"Hey dude, how's it hanging?" Jake asked, smiling at Alan, and completely disarming his defenses.

Alan didn't answer Jake's question, nodded with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Jake held up a hand to high five the younger man, playing the part.

The mechanic chatted with Alan accepting his offer to go grab a coffee and some lunch with a grin.

"Only if you're buying." Jake said, making a show of turning out his pockets to show he had nothing in them. "Rent got increased last month and I don't have much for frivolous expenditures."

"Oh man, that sucks. I'm sorry." Alan said as he led Jake out of the garage to a coffee stand down the street. It was one they all frequented when they were at the garage working.

"It's no biggie, just one of those unfortunate things that happens to adults." Jake said, wrinkling his nose with a shake of his head. "What was I thinking for wanting to become an adult so bad, I had it made when I was twelve and living with my folks."

Alan couldn't help but to laugh. Though, now that he was back home with his family…he didn't exactly have the same struggles as Jake.

It was a sobering thought.

"Is there anything I can do to help you out?" Alan asked.

'Hook, line and sinker…reel 'em in and bag the trophy.'

"Oh, no I couldn't ask that of you." Jake said, willing himself to blush a little out of embarrassment.

"You're not asking, I'm offering." Alan insisted. "Just tell me how much you need."