Victim

“Station. Now,” Korra says through the phone.

Asami simply hangs up and gets in her car.

She drives as fast as she possibly can to the station.

There, she sees a rather calm omega behind Korra as the alpha had a screaming match with someone.

Much to Asami’s irritation, it was one of her coworkers.

Tarrlok was an alpha rape victim therapist like Asami but he was rude and a victim blamer.

And Asami wanted to murder him.

Given the look on Korra’s face, she wasn’t against it.

“What’s happening?” Asami asks coolly.

“This motherfucker said that it was Mako’s fault he got raped,” Korra snarls.

The omega’s name was Mako, Asami mentally files away.

She wasn’t sure why his face looked so passive, but it might be the shock.

“How?” Asami questions.

Tarrlok rolls his eyes. “He was wearing shorts and a sleeveless top, he was practically begging to get fucked. If he didn’t want it, he should have covered up.”

Asami’s temper flares.

“Are you fucking with me right now? Because some douche jackass couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, it’s suddenly the fault of the victim for trying to live their life without fear?” Korra growls.

Before Tarrlok can respond, a crisp slap is heard.

“It wasn’t my fault that shitheads like you keep your fly down all the time,” Mako says calmly, hand still raised.

“Why, you-” Tarrlok starts.

“Is there a problem?” A voice asks.

Lin is standing there, the entire precinct behind her, all throwing murderous glares at Tarrlok.

Tenzin is also there and looks like he’s about to throttle Tarrlok, his position as Senator forgotten.

“No. I think it’s time for me to take my leave,” Tarrlok grits out, glaring at Mako.

The alpha leaves, clearly mad.

“Are you alright?” Asami asks the omega.

He shrugs. “Whatever. It’s no biggie.”

Korra’s jaw drops and Asami looks appalled as the omega walks out of the precinct.

“Wasn’t he just raped?” Asami hisses incredulously.

Korra nods. “He was but when we brought him and the rapist in, he looked very calm for someone who was being brutally violated. When I asked, all he said was, ‘I’m used to pain.’ I don’t know what that means, but I don’t like it.”

Asami purses her lips. “This wasn’t the first time he’s been hurt. But who hurt him so much he’s practically immune to pain?”

***

“You have more hours to work. Move,” Butakha snaps.

Mako just nods and gets ready.

He covers up the bruises with makeup and places delicate clothing over cuts and scrapes.

He leaves the dressing room to go to dance.

He was a pole dancer but not for the reason you’d think.

It paid surprisingly well but had become worse over time.

The more time he worked, the more times he was assaulted, slapped at practice and got hurt, or raped.

He was practically immune to the pain now.

But the only reason he dealt with all this shit was for his brother.

His younger brother, Bolin.

The alpha had fallen into a coma after a stroke.

Mako needed to pay the bills to make sure the wire didn’t get pulled and he didn’t lose the one person he loved.

So he took the pain, the hate, and the money because what else could he do?