Paper Chains | Extras

“Osiris,” Ian gently shakes the slender man's shoulder, chuckling when all he receives in reply is a barely-audible mumble. “Osiris, it's time to get up. I have somewhere I want to take you today.”

Osiris' eyes open slowly, the silver standing out between his strands of dark hair fallen haphazardly over his face. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with what's happening, the comfortable bed beneath him still feeling like a dream in and of itself. However, when everything collides in reality he gasps, eyes widening as he sits upright and dips his head, not daring to meet the eyes of his Alpha.

“Yes, Alpha, I apologize for not waking immediately. I am ready for my punishment.”

Ian's brows knit together, the fragile string of hope he'd had that today would be the day snapping, just like every day previous. It's not like he could blame the younger man… Osiris grew up in conditions the Alpha could only imagine, but has heard from countless Omegas over the years. Conditions that could only be described as hell.

Which is why he does his best not to let his disappointment show, instead standing up straight and offering a small smile. “No punishment necessary, Pet.” He nods, ignoring the discomfort that comes from using such a degrading term for the dark-haired man. “Just get ready. Bathe and dress in clothes from the closet, anything you like. Be comfortable. We'll be outside for the majority of today.”

The blonde leaves Osiris with those words, giving him space and options. He knows the younger still isn't used to such things, but there's no way he'll get used to little doses of freedom without being given these opportunities.

It's around an hour later when they're both buckled into Ian's car; Osiris only after a disproportionate amount of convincing that he is allowed to sit in the passenger seat, doesn't have to sit on the floor board, and he must buckle up to keep himself safe. This isn't something that the Alpha would budge on, though the Omega couldn't help but believe it's a test. It's always a test…

“We're going to an outdoor event,” Ian begins, his pointer fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel as music plays low over the car’s speakers, “it's nothing huge, but I think it'll be fun.”

As expected, Osiris doesn't respond. Outdoor events, or events in general, have never been particularly good. Not for Omegas… But this Alpha seems to have a strange view on what Omegas would enjoy or be comfortable with — or what they deserve. So maybe… Maybe he'd get lucky, and this would be another uncomfortable yet safe event.

Ian tries his hand at making small talk during the drive, but it's shut down every time by the anxious Omega responding shortly when necessary, or not at all when a could-be rhetorical statement is made.

Another twenty minutes pass before they pull into a nondescript parking lot that only has a few spaces available to park, all the others have already been filled. It's the same with the similar public lots on either side, and there's a ringing of voices filling the air. Clearly, whatever this is, it's big. And it's… Colorful?

Before Osiris can even process everything he's seeing, Ian is already out of the car and around at the Omega's door, opening it for him and reaching in to unbuckle him. “Welcome to Pride, Osiris.”

“Pride, Alpha?”

“Yep.” Ian offers his hand to help the smaller out of the car, but that hand is ignored as Osiris stands on his own, arms going behind his back as he stands straight. “I'm sorry, Alpha, but I'm not quite sure what ‘Pride’ is. Am I meant to do anything in particular? Will I service anyone other than yourself today?”

“No, Osiris.” Ian sighs, “You'll service no one today. That's not what this is about. Pride is about being proud of yourself, whoever you are, wherever you're from.” He reaches out to place a hand on Osiris' back, but thinks better of it at the last moment, returning his hand to his own side.

“I brought you here so you could other Omegas living freely. I know it's hard for you to take me at my word when I tell you that times are changing, but I hope that seeing it with your own eyes will help solidify it in your mind. You don't deserve the life that you've lived so far, and I hope to help you feel worthy of the life you can live. The one you have a right to live.”

Osiris stiffens, feeling momentarily like he's being tested. Just because this Alpha has not shown his true colors yet doesn't mean he's a different shade than all the others he's known throughout his life. There's no way the world could be different. Not when what he's lived through thus far has been as dark and painful as it has been. If that's not allowed everywhere, then how would it be allowed anywhere?

“I understand, Alpha. Thank you, Alpha.” He may not believe it fully, but he knows better than to talk back or question the man.

Ian nods slowly, lifting a hand to brush through his light hair. He gestures toward the street, “Let's go this way. The festivities start with a parade that should be starting any moment now. If you don't want to watch that though, we can go get some food first?”

Being given a choice doesn't sit well with Osiris, which takes Ian a moment to register. Once he does though he hums, “On second thought, let's go get some breakfast. These events always have food trucks or vendors, I'm sure they'll have something good.” Osiris doesn't respond verbally, but obediently follows 3 paces behind the large man.

Ian leads them down the sidewalk, getting closer to the symphony of voices, various types of music, and laughter with every step. The parade is about to start just ahead, and Osiris can finally see the people making such a racket.

What's more shocking than the flamboyant and garish outfits the people are wearing, is the absolute mix of people all running around and having fun with one another — seemingly without prejudice.

There doesn't seem to be any separation of people by their age, race, ability, sex, or… Wait.

“Alpha-” Osiris cuts himself off, feeling breathless and lightheaded as the mingled scents hit him full-force. Alpha, Omega, and Beta all mixed together without a care. And yet at a glance, there's no way to tell what scent belongs to whom. Omegas must be littered throughout the crowd, interacting just the same as their more worthy counterparts.

He glances at Ian in shock, though of course doesn't allow his eyes to travel any higher than the collar of the man's shirt. This does, however, mean that he misses the mirrored look of shock on his Alpha's face, but for a much different reason.

“It's… Well, like I… This is…” Ian stumbles over his own words, unsure how to explain or even respond to the first time Osiris has ever spoken ‘out of turn’ to him.

It seems coming to the event was a good thing, even just by the first few minutes they've been in attendance.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Ian opens his arms and gestures to the mass of diverse people with a flourish. “This is Pride. You're not less-than here, Osiris. You're not at home either, but I understand why that's so difficult for you to come to terms with. I wanted you to come here and see that I'm not just giving lip service. I'm not testing you. I'm not tricking you. You don't have to open up right away, and you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. But… Here, you're free.”

Osiris doesn't respond. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe or blink. He absorbs the words, the atmosphere, the crowd, and he feels.

‘I’m free…’ He says to himself, nose twitching in dissatisfaction at how the words sound even in his own mind.

They sound like a lie.

So, instead of acting on anything others are doing around him, he continues to walk across the frayed mental tightrope of familiarity, training, and obedience he's known for his entire life.

He remains silent, keeps his head down, hands clasped behind his back, and his posture straight. He's a shining example of the Perfect Omega — other than his slightly mismatched clothes which hang off of his still-sunken frame as a result of malnourishment in the auction facility.

Ian does his best not to show his disappointment when Osiris locks in on his trained behavior, but he figures there's plenty more hours in the day. Hopefully the influence of other liberated Omegas can help him see that it truly is alright not to be perfect all the time.

“Anyway, let's go get that breakfast. It looks like there's a truck selling pizza over there. Not the healthiest meal to start us off, but today's all about doing things we wouldn't normally do and having fun. You like pizza, right?”

“Yes, Alpha.” Osiris follows otherwise silently as Ian once more leads the way. They stand in line at a heavenly-smelling truck with large images of pizza ingredients, toppings, and finished pies plastered all over it. What's likely the name of the truck or business is also there, but Osiris doesn't linger too long on the sight of the yellow-gold letters. After all, it's not like he can read it.

As they wait in line behind another couple and a person with large, rainbow-dyed hair, Ian mumbles to himself about the different items on the menu.

“It looks like it's all fairly basic, quick, greasy stuff. They have pizza, fries, and popcorn chicken. I'd like to know if you have a preference on which one you want to eat.”

The offer and expectation was obviously directed at Osiris, which makes the Omega's stomach turn with discontent. Having any form of agency over his own body and what goes into it is so far removed from what he's known for the past 21 years, it's practically laughable.

But this is the expectation now. This Alpha, his owner, wants him to make decisions intermittently. Surely there's a wrong answer in there somewhere, but so far Osiris has been lucky to choose the correct ones.

He hasn't received a punishment in nearly three months, and he's getting sort of used to the relative safety provided by the hulking, tattooed man. That doesn't mean he'll forget his place, but perhaps he could start making those decisions without bracing for impact immediately after.

“May I have chicken, Alpha?” Well… Maybe the latter growth can happen next time, as his body tenses the moment the last syllable leaves his lips.

Once more Ian notices, but doesn't bring attention to the instinctive fear response. “Of course. Food truck chicken can be pretty hit or miss, and you may have a loud stomach later, but it won't be anything too bad. Just let me know if you hurt at all and I'll make sure you're taken care of.”

It felt like another test, but Osiris wasn't certain how to respond.

The line moves rather quickly and Ian places their order with the young woman manning the window. He pays the higher-than-expected total and they stand off to the side to wait for Ian's name to be called.

“Would you like to watch the parade while we eat? It looks like there's also a small music area a bit further away which should have less people. That may be more-” The Alpha trails off, watching as Osiris' shoulders roll forward and tense more and more with every word he speaks. He should really cool it on the options. He's not a Green, he knows good and well how to handle Omegas who are still fresh out of the system. But something about Osiris…

Something is just different. Something about this Omega makes him lose his sense sometimes.

“We'll sit by the music area. Maybe we'll even get to see some dancing.”

“Order for Ian!”

The blonde turns his head quickly, grinning and stepping back to the window to grab his and Osiris' food. He silently gestures for the Omega to follow him over to the picnic tables loosely surrounding a stage made of concrete.

On stage is what appears to be a ragtag group of individuals calling themselves a band. There's two men playing guitars, a woman on the keyboard, another individual sitting behind a drum set, and… An Omega standing front and center, their pheromones powerful enough that Osiris was able to scent them while they were still several feet away.

His eyes land on the individual, his lips pressed tightly together as he watches in awe.

They open their mouth and belt out words — lyrics.

They sound so confident, and they look it too. There's no evidence of a broken individual like Osiris. This person uses their voice fully, they show their expressions so truly that even their amber-hued eyes seem to speak. Their clothing both reveals and hides them in a way Osiris is certain he'd never find comfortable, yet on them… It seems perfect. Right.

“-whenever you're ready.”

A cold chill goes down Osiris' spine as fire simultaneously ignites on his face and chest. The sounds of the rest of the environment fade back into existence as his tunnel vision fades.

Ian was speaking to him… His Alpha, his owner, was speaking to him. Possibly commanding him. And he'd been so lost in the presence of the wild Omega that he hadn't been paying attention.

Did Ian notice? What could he have been saying to end with what could only be interpreted as something being reliant on Osiris' timeline?

“I am sorry, Alpha, I… I was distracted, and I didn't not hear what you said. I apologize, and I will accept any punishment you deem fitting.”

“Calm down, Osiris. There'll be no punishment. You were drawn into the music, that's perfectly fine. I was just saying that the food is quite warm so let it cook, but your free to start eating whenever you're ready.”

Osiris swallows hard, uncertain about if he should believe the man's words. Against his better judgment he decides to, then lifts his gaze once more to the now-jumping Omega on stage. Gods, what Osiris wouldn't give to have half of that energy and confidence. To know what it's like to have fun.

The song ends just as quickly as it'd begun, and the black-haired man is pulled back to reality once more. The band on stage abandons their equipment with a promise to be back on later, citing a need for some brunch of their own and maybe something fruity to drink.

Finally Osiris takes a bite of his chicken, letting his eyes fall shut as the greasy, flavorful taste fills his mouth.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you very much for the food.”

“Anytime, Osiris.” Ian smiles at the younger man, already mostly done with his own pizza and fries by the time his counterpart had only just begun. Of course, the Alpha hadn't been nearly as entranced by the live music as Osiris was.

They both finish eating before the band returns, much to the disappointment of Osiris, and they dispose of their trash in a nearby waste bin before setting off to explore more of the outdoor venue.

Booths sit scattered about the grounds selling various designs and mediums of ‘Pride Merch’. From glistening resin sculptures to matte pins and even some questionably-shaped candies, Osiris is feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything going on.

He lingers around a clothing booth, featuring graphic icons on shirts, shorts, scarves, skirts, and hats with various color and symbol combinations.

“That one is for Omega equality. I'd say I'm surprised you picked up on it immediately, but then I noticed how intelligent you are right away.” Ian speaks softly right next to the shorter man, his fingers tracing the symbol embroidered on a hat that Osiris hadn't been able to take his eyes off of.

“It was the symbol used by the Omega who started the revolution. It was her signature. This symbol is a piece of history for people like you, Osiris.”

The words carry a weight that Osiris isn't quite sure he's comfortable holding. It seems so real. So true. But how could it be?

But… Is he only being naive?

The proof is right in front of him, isn't it? Hadn't he just spent five minutes watching an Omega with blue hair — blue — singing their heart out on stage alongside Alphas and Betas, looking nothing of their lessor?

Aren't there couples and groups of individuals all throughout the grounds intermingling regardless of secondary gender?

Hasn't Ian been saying this to him since the moment they entered his home three months ago?

“Alpha, I…”

“You don't have to say anything,” Ian offers a soft smile, lifting a hand to brush away the tears that Osiris hadn't even noticed were falling.

“I get it. You don't have to say a word. Would you like the hat?”

For once, Osiris doesn't have to think. He doesn't tense up, doesn't argue with himself, he just nods. One single, firm, decisive nod.

And Ian buys it. He truly hands the money over to the shopkeeper and picks up the hat, placing it right on Osiris' messy mop of black hair.

“There we go.” The Alpha absolutely beams, his expression a stark opposite to the Omega before him who can't seem to stop the tears from falling. “It looks perfect on you, Osiris. You look perfect.”

Again Osiris averts his gaze, his hands moving from behind his back to instead wrap around his midsection. “May I go to the restroom, Alpha?” He asks weakly, struggling to cope with the onslaught of emotions running rampant in his mind.

“Of course. Let's go.” Ian leads the way, but this time Osiris follows only two paces behind the man.

And as the day goes on, those two reduce to one, and by the time they're making their way to the car under the setting sun they're nearly shoulder to shoulder.

Although Osiris still hadn't looked above Ian's shirt collar, though his body still braced every other time he'd state an opinion, even if he never spoke without being spoken to after asking for the restroom… That hat never left his head. His hands swung by his sides as they explored, and he allowed himself to fall out of step with his Alpha when he'd be distracted by something that caught his attention.

Today was progress.