The Breaking Dawn
The world came back to Matt in fragments - soft silk sheets beneath him, the lingering scent of alpha protectiveness in the air, and the steady heartbeat of Wilson Fisk somewhere nearby. He was in Fisk's bedroom, he realized, his enhanced senses mapping out the luxurious space even as his body refused to move.
"Your fever's breaking," Fisk's voice came from his right, gentle but firm. "The suppressant withdrawal has been... difficult."
Matt tried to speak, but his throat felt raw from screaming. How long had he been here? Hours? Days? His time sense was completely shot, his usual iron control shattered by the combination of emotional breakdown and chemical withdrawal.
"Don't try to talk yet." Fisk moved closer, his massive frame settling into what sounded like a plush armchair. "You've been through quite an ordeal, Matthew. Your body needs time to adjust."
"Why?" Matt finally managed to croak out, hating how weak his voice sounded. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because someone needed to." Fisk's voice carried an undertone of... sadness? "You were killing yourself slowly, Matthew. Fighting against your own nature, poisoning your body with those suppressants. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Wouldn't care?"
"You're a monster," Matt whispered, but the words lacked their usual conviction. "A manipulative..."
"Monster? Perhaps." Fisk shifted in his chair. "But I'm also the one who's been trying to protect you. While others watched you suffer, while they enabled your self-destruction, I took action."
"By having Dex spy on me?" Matt's voice cracked. "By destroying my suppliers?"
"By removing the poison from your life." Fisk's tone remained maddeningly gentle. "By creating a safe space for you to finally accept what you are."
"I know what I am." But even as he said it, Matt felt his omega side stirring, responding to the protective alpha presence nearby.
"Do you?" Fisk stood, his footsteps approaching the bed. "Then why do you fight it so hard? Why deny yourself the comfort, the safety you clearly need?"
"I don't need-" Matt started to protest, but his voice broke as Fisk's hand came to rest on his forehead, checking his temperature. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such large hands.
"Shh." Fisk's voice softened further. "You don't have to be strong right now, Matthew. You don't have to fight anymore."
Something inside Matt cracked at those words. A lifetime of walls, of pretense, of fighting against his own nature - it all came crashing down in a wave of overwhelming emotion.
"I can't-" He choked out, tears starting to fall. "I don't know how to... to..."
"To let go?" Fisk finished gently. "To accept help? To be what you truly are?"
Matt nodded weakly, unable to form words through his tears.
"Then let us help you." Fisk's presence was overwhelming now, all protective alpha energy. "Let me show you that there's no shame in being who you are. That you don't have to carry this burden alone anymore."
"Dex," Matt whispered, remembering the alpha who had caught him, who had held him through his breakdown. "Where...?"
"He's nearby." Fisk's hand moved to stroke Matt's hair, the gesture achingly paternal. "He's been quite concerned about you. His protective instincts are... quite strong where you're concerned."
Matt wanted to protest, wanted to maintain some semblance of his usual defiance. But his body was betraying him, leaning into Fisk's touch, seeking the comfort he'd denied himself for so long.
"That's it," Fisk murmured, continuing the gentle stroking. "Just rest now. Let yourself heal. Everything else can wait."
And as Matt drifted back into unconsciousness, he realized with a mix of terror and relief that something fundamental had shifted inside him. The walls he'd built, the persona he'd maintained, the strength he'd faked - it was all crumbling away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
But for the first time in his life, that vulnerability didn't feel like weakness.
It felt like freedom.