Chapter 20
H e’d gone to sleep with Levy again, though at least he’d been able to shower on his own this time, which he’d convinced himself meant that he’d done the right thing going home instead of forcing himself into the changing room once again.
At first, he hadn’t realised anything was wrong, he’d woken on his back, with one of Levy’s arms across his middle. They hadn’t so much as kissed since before Kallen’s heat, but his friend seemed confident enough to curl up close at least.
Maybe it would be for the best if they went back to being friends without any benefits. If Kallen didn’t try to have more than he could handle.
It was that thought that had him twist to the side to get up. Or try to, because he flopped back down, hip twinging. He glanced down instinctively, and then scrambled to sit up and ended up having to put down a hand behind his own back to keep from overbalancing.
Because his legs weren’t reacting. He could feel them, but when he tried to bend them nothing happened.
“Kallen?” Levy’s curls were frizzy and ridiculous atop his head and Kallen barely gulped down his terror. It didn’t matter, his friend was already sitting up, reaching for his back to support him. “What— What is it?”
He shook his head, blinking hard against the tears. He didn’t know, but it was bad. That’s all he was sure about, that it was really bad, and he couldn’t—
“Hey,” Levy’s hand was on his face, thumb slowly caressing his stubbled cheek. “I’m here,” he promised. “Did you have a nightmare?”
And Kallen snorted out a laugh, braying and desperate, and then, close to sick with terror, he tried clench his toes. He watched them this time, just in case... But nothing happened. There they were, perfectly ordinary poking from under the blankets.
“Does your foot... hurt?” Levy guessed.
Kallen couldn’t possibly speak without screaming, so he reached out for Levy’s hand on his face and dragged it to his thigh, then tried to bring his knee up, grunting at the effort.
“Are you...?” Levy’s fingers twitched against his pyjama-covered thigh. “Okay, just—” He vaulted over Kallen’s legs, ending on the opposite side of the bed, then shoved the covers off him completely. “Come on, get up.”
He took the proffered hand, half hoping it was all in his head, and then Levy pulled. But when Kallen tried to twist his body to the side, he ended up falling onto his elbow, bottom half left behind.
Levy cursed, low and heartfelt. “Fuck!”
Kallen didn’t look up at him. This couldn’t be happening, not after everything.
Except of course it would because that was just his life, wasn’t it? Working his arse off, and trying to be a good sport about the omega stuff, and then not doing enough and getting punished for it, which of course led to more problems because somehow, no matter how many times life used him as a punching ball, a part of him refused to believe that’s how life worked . Pretending he deserved more than he did, that he could have it without doing the work. He hadn’t go into that fucking changing room like the coward he was and here was the result, his body freaking out so—
“ Kallen.” There was a little will into it, which was probably the only reason he heard it.
He managed a noise in response.
“Okay, come on.” Levy was already dragging all the pillows behind him and helping him get comfortable in his awkward sitting position. Kallen allowed it. He was at the end of his rope, he might as well let Levy do whatever he wanted, Kallen was pretty much done wanting anything.
His friend sat by his side, leg bent against Kallen’s own useless one. He cupped Kallen’s face again and tugged until Kallen turned his way.
“Do you trust me?”
Kallen stared at him, frozen.
“Okay,” Levy said, his eyes were shining, but he blinked back the tears. “It’s okay if you hate me later.”
It should have been a terrifying statement, especially when he was trapped in bed and no one would know to come get him for days. But when Levy put his other a hand on his cheek, Kallen’s fell shut and he relaxed into it. Maybe it was insane, but he did. He trusted him.
Levy’s breath stirred the fine hairs on his neck as he leaned in and ordered, “Tell me what’s wrong. All of it.”
It was charged, strong and imperative and inescapable. But there was a gentleness to it too, like Levy’s grip on him, holding him in place but not hurting him.
The order pushed right against the barriers Kallen had created to protect himself, and he whimpered at the pressure. “I... McKinley—” The name was enough to make his whole body seize and jerk in place. Their captain had never explicitly told Kallen not to talk about it, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to, anyway.
Levy hissed, hands leaving his face to grab at his shoulders. “What did he do?”
Kallen opened his mouth, but no words came, his tongue was thick and pasty. His nose was stuffing up all of a sudden, and his face was wet. The compulsion demanded he keep speaking, and to resist it, his body was making sure he couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t realise he wasn’t just painting but shaking until Levy swung over to straddle his lap. “It’s okay,” he told him, urgent and true, dragging him into an embrace, offering his chest for Kallen to gasp against, his strong back for Kallen’s hands to cling to as if to the edge of a cliff. Except he was already falling, all Levy was doing was holding on to him as he did. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I know he hurt you,” he was murmuring, rocking them a little, and he was trying to help but it only hurt all the more. That Levy knew, that Kallen had—
Afterwards, it was all a bit of a blur. He must have cried himself to sleep, and he’d woken up again weirdly slumped over all the pillows and with Levy half on him, anchoring him to the bed, and his mouth parched. Levy had straightened at once, obviously sensing the change in his breathing. He was studying Kallen’s face closely.
He must have seen something there because he jumped off the bed, already announcing. “You should eat something.”
“Water?” Kallen had requested, and Levy had reacted like he’d asked for a key to diffuse a bomb, glancing about the room until he’d found the glass on Kallen’s bedside and passed it over. Levy had watched him sip at it like he was afraid he’d lose it all over again, and Kallen had wanted to roll over and just hide his face in the million pillows. Except he couldn’t even do that, his legs were still not responding. “Practice?” he asked.
Levy’s eyes widened in alarm. Had he completely forgotten about their jobs? “It’s fine,” he told Kallen, obviously making it up as he went. “I’ll take care of it. You can’t—” He cut himself off, but Kallen was already looking away, feeling like he might spew the water all over himself at the thought. “You should rest,” Levy added.
But all Kallen could hear were the words he hadn’t said. You can’t skate .
And if he couldn’t skate...
“I’M SORRY,” LEVY TOLD him as Kallen pushed the food around his plate. He’d put a few morsels into his mouth and made himself chew and swallow, but his stomach was already churning with renewed nausea. “I should have called the doctor right away. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Kallen dropped his fork with a clatter and set the plate beside him on the bed, muscles tensing. “You called Maslow?”
“Yeah.” Levy was frowning at him. “I mean, I know he’s not a specialist, but he knows your history, and...” He trailed off, clearly unsure.
He made himself nod. “Okay.”
Levy was probably right, Maslow was the team’s head physician, after all. He was also a kitten, if a guy in his sixties could still be called that, and wholeheartedly dedicated to the White Cat Family. Kallen just didn’t like how often he referred to Kallen’s future as a breeder for the team. But it was true, wasn’t it? And Maslow hadn’t made him sign the contract, or choose the life he had. And maybe talking about it so much was meant to help him get used to the idea.
It wasn’t that long before the bell went off. Levy grabbed the half-full plate before he left to get it, and Kallen stayed right where he was, since he had no other choice.
“Good afternoon,” Maslow said, walking briskly into the bedroom, and Kallen raised his eyes to track him. “Kallen?” the doctor asked, and he realised he hadn’t responded.
“Um, hello.”
Maslow had something in his hand that turned out to be a medical torch and he took hold of Kallen’s chin and ordered, “Open.”
He examined his eyes and ears too, then pulled the blankets away and checked his reflexes. His knees dutifully jumped, and he could feel pressure and temperature all over his legs and feet too.
“Nothing amiss,” the doctor concluded. “What happened yesterday?”
Kallen had expected questions, but he hadn’t expected Maslow to know that something had happened, and he couldn’t keep from tensing up.
“I see, so something happened. At the game?” When he didn’t respond, the grip on his knee tightened painfully. “ Answer ,” Maslow commanded, low and serious. A dull pressure Kallen could feel on the back of his neck.
“No,” he choked out.
“Afterwards then?”
He nodded, hunching over as much as he could. His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching it. If Maslow pushed for it...
But the doctor just hummed, taking off his phone and sitting down on the chair Levy had been using all morning to keep Kallen company. It was like he’d forgotten Kallen was in the room.
Look at me , Kallen wanted to demand. He could use lure, he thought, which was absolutely insane. And why did he even want Maslow to look at him? The guy had always creeped him out.
A tentative knock on the doorframe finally got Maslow to look away from the screen. Levy’s eyes were travelling between them, full of uncertainty. “Is... Um, I just wanted to check on you,” he said.
Kallen appreciated him not asking for an update from the doctor directly. He thought Maslow would have probably told him.
The man stood up. “Nothing wrong with him,” he told Levy, confirming Kallen’s suspicions. Did he think Levy had a right to know what was going on with him since he was technically one of Kallen’s alphas?
“Oh.” Levy’s eyes met his own, still unsure. “Does that— So why can’t he move his legs?” he asked, not looking away.
Kallen dropped his own gaze. He was grateful to his friend for asking, really. At least it meant he didn’t have to talk to Maslow himself.
“Omegas are sensitive,” Maslow explained with a shrug, glancing Kallen’s way and shaking his head. “Something makes them feel unsafe, they do this kind of thing, shut down, somatise...” He sighed, dropping his phone back into his pocket and turning for the door.
“Excuse me?” Levy asked, stepping fully into the room and stopping at the foot of the bed—as close to Kallen as he possibly could without crawling into it with him again. He was also blocking Maslow’s path to the exit. “Soma what?”
“Somatise,” Maslow repeated, then translated it. “He’s doing it to himself.”
“What?” Levy snapped. “Are you serious? He can’t move his legs . How is he doing that to himself? Who would do that to themselves?”
The doctor didn’t answer for a long moment, then, strangely, took a step back, closer to Kallen, and then he said, “Someone who is afraid to get back on the ice.”
Levy had followed the movement, so he caught Kallen twisting his head away from the words. He was clenching his hands so hard he was afraid he’d break the skin despite how short his nails were. Not that it would matter, if he couldn’t use them for hockey...
“As I was saying,” the doctor went on. “This is outside my area of expertise.”
Levy kept pushing, asking follow up questions, but Kallen stopped listening. He didn’t like Maslow, but he couldn’t find it within himself to argue. What were the chances that the day after he’d got so freaked out something like this would happen? And without a single clue a doctor could read?
And besides, it wasn’t the first time.
HAVING LEVY CARRY HIM into the toilet had to be the most humiliating experience of his life. If he hadn’t made the mistake of claiming Levy wasn’t able of lifting someone as heavy as he was, he might have avoided it altogether.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, when Levy finally helped him settle down on the seat. He was scarlet and as close to tears as he was to bursting in other ways.
“Forget it,” his friend replied, and turned around and left, closing the door behind himself.
He did his business, and then he bent over in half, digging his elbows into his useless knees and pressing his fisted hands to his eyes and gave himself a stern talking to. The last thing he could do right now was fucking cry. If he got any more pathetic, he didn’t think he could bear it—even if Levy would continue indulging him.
If Maslow was right, if this was all in his head... Then he had to get it out of his head.
LEVY’S KNOCK brOUGHT him back from his thoughts. “I’m done,” he said, and then had to repeat it when it came out too low. But the sooner he got off his arse, literally, the sooner he could get closer to sorting this out.
“Can we go to the sofa? I’m sick of the bed.”
He gritted his teeth through the whole awkward procedure of getting him sat on the edge of the bathtub so he could wash his hands, then put his arms around Levy’s neck as his friend lifted him bride-style. He’d have nearly preferred the fireman carry from before except he desperately didn’t want to be upside down again.
“Levy,” he said when his friend stepped back and didn’t sit down. “Stop thinking about feeding me. I need your help.”
Levy nearly tripped in his haste to sit down next to him. “Okay, shoot.”
“I need you to make me tell you. So I can...” He waved down at his lower half.
“You really...” Levy was frowning, mouth downturned. “You really think Maslow is right? That you are...?”
Kallen shrugged. “If he’s wrong, I got nothing to lose.” He winced as soon as the words were out. It wasn’t true, of course. He could very well imagine what Levy’s reaction would be when he found out. He’d already got Kallen to tell him who , of course, but...
Kallen had mostly accepted his friend hadn’t been serious about their extracurricular kissing, and he was fine with it, really. Kallen had liked it too much, so in a way it was better if it was off the table. It didn’t mean he wanted him to know what their captain had done, what he’d said. Levy didn’t think of him like an omega, or at least he didn’t act like he thought omegas were toys for him to use and then discard like other alphas did. And if Kallen told him...
“Or maybe I can tell someone else. Can you make me tell someone else?”
Levy was watching him wide-eyed. “Like who?”
Kallen had no idea. His parents were out, obviously. And his brothers... They were betas, but they were his older brothers, too. He thought they would do something, or want to, at least.
But he wasn’t sure.
The idea of telling this to Levy was terrifying, but to tell someone he wasn’t sure would get angry on his behalf?
He shrugged, dropping his eyes. “Dunno, just... It’s— It’s bad.”
The heavy huff was charged enough that Kallen didn’t even need to look. “Will you let me help?”
Kallen glanced up at the tremble in those words. “What?”
“I won’t...” Levy’s brow was furrowed, eyes lost somewhere to the side. “I won’t go all macho. I promise I won’t.” His throat clicked loudly, and Kallen almost told him he wanted that. That for once in his life, he wanted an alpha who would step in front of him and protect him instead of hurt him. “But will you let me tell the right people? I—” His eyes returned to Kallen’s, desperate and shining. “Please?”
His stomach fell. It was stupid. Levy was being sensible. That was good. What did Kallen expect? For him to go and confront McKinley and the whole White Cats organisation that would undoubtedly stand behind him? They’d fire him as soon as hear him out.
But Levy wanted to, and it wasn’t quite the same as doing it , but it helped that he did. It made a difference that he’d get angry on Kallen’s behalf.
Levy couldn’t save him from his own bad choices, but he wanted to. It was a lot more than he’d ever had before. And seeing the pain on his friend’s face, he opened his own mouth and said, “Yeah. Yes. You— You can tell.”
Levy’s hand landed on his own, squeezing. “Thank you.”
Kallen nearly laughed, suppressing the impulse for fear that he’d start crying instead. “Thank you? You are... You are nuts, man.”
That earned him a half a smile, worn out and tired, but there. Levy was trying his best, and it was time Kallen did the same, no matter how much it cost him.