Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Anaxa was exhausted, drained, and out of strength.
Would it be selfish of him to end his own life?

Yes. It would.

What would happen to little Apollo if his “daddy” didn’t come home to protect him from his nightmares and from that bastard who, unfortunately, was his biological father?
If Anaxa had the strength, he would kill him himself—just like he did to his sister. He would avenge her death and every ounce of suffering that vile alpha had inflicted on the only family he had left.

“Hey, omega!” The deep voice of the old man broke the air, pulling Anaxa’s attention—especially because of the wad of money in his hands. “This is for today’s work, plus the tips some customers left you. You don’t need to come in tomorrow. I’ll see you on Saturday to cover for another employee.”

“Yes, sir. Have a good night,” he said quickly, snatching the cash and slipping it between his old high-top sneakers and his worn jeans. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily be robbed at that hour.

It was nearly one in the morning when he left his last survival job for the day: an old diner that stayed open until the early hours. The owner had a certain pity for his situation, though he was still an abusive boss toward him. Still, it was the job that paid the most because of the night shifts—and, unfortunately, also the one where his body was touched in ways he hated while serving customers. But it was the only way he could make enough to buy two boxes of milk for little Apollo and something for them to eat at the end of the day.

He walked with his head down through the outskirts of the city of the Forest of Epiphany. Despite its reputation as “the city of geniuses,” inequality was blatant. The government only cared for the high society and the soon-to-be graduates of Amphoreus’ most prestigious university, ignoring the struggles of the poorer districts. Even the civil defense neglected the low-income residents—he was living proof of that.

After his sister died, leaving her three-month-old son in his care, the child’s father—her ex—began stalking him in a sick, obsessive way. So far, Anaxa had managed to keep that bastard from ever finding Apollo. The boy was the most precious and brightest thing his sister had left him. Despite his brown eyes, Apollo was the mirror image of his mother and had inherited her gentle heart.

Life hadn’t been kind to Anaxa after their parents died under mysterious circumstances. He was ten then, and his sister was almost seventeen. They had lived together until she became pregnant—something he suspected she hadn’t wanted. It happened after she broke up with her boyfriend, a man who had always looked at Anaxa strangely when he stayed over. After Apollo’s birth, everything fell apart when Anaxa came home one day to find his sister dead—and that alpha bastard on top of her lifeless body, doing vile things. He barely remembered grabbing the first thing within reach and smashing it into the man’s head before calling the police, who arrested him.

For three years, Anaxa lived in peace—until the man got parole and began stalking him in every way possible.
Anaxa’s greatest fear was that he would discover Apollo’s existence. The boy didn’t deserve to know that someone as terrible as that alpha could be his father.

Apollo had only him. No one else could protect him the way Anaxa could.

He stepped into the 24-hour market near his home and bought what they needed: two boxes of milk, five packs of the cheapest instant noodles, two large bottles of water, a can of energy drink, and, of course, the small carrots that his boy loved. At the checkout, he was glad to have a little more left over than usual. He walked home.

It was a small wooden house, with an old gate and peeling paint. Just three rooms: one bedroom he shared with Apollo, a bathroom, and a living room that doubled as a kitchen. Small, but enough to keep them safe from the dangers of the night.

He unlocked the door carefully, set the groceries inside, and locked it again. The old tube TV was on, its sound barely audible. On the worn sofa, his little boy lay curled up, green hair spilling over mismatched clothes that barely kept him warm, clutching his old blue stuffed rabbit.

Anaxa smiled at the sight, scooping him up and carrying him to the bedroom—an old mattress on the floor, a large wardrobe with broken doors, and a few scattered toys. He laid Apollo down, covering him with blankets, drew the curtain shut, and left the door slightly ajar.

He put the groceries away, then lifted a loose floorboard to reveal a small locked box. Inside, he stored the leftover money—his emergency fund for doctor visits or medicine when Apollo got sick. Winters were harsh, and kids often fell ill.

By the time he finished, it was nearly three in the morning. He ate something quickly, did a bit of cleaning since he didn’t have work the next day, and prepared all the bottles of milk for Apollo, who would wake in the night asking for it.

He was about to turn off the lights when a loud sound broke the quiet. Someone was knocking at the door.

Anaxa froze. It was far too late for visitors.

The knocks came again—three, rapid, like hammer blows.

This time, he knew: whoever was on the other side wasn’t going away.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the crushing weight in his chest. With the knife still in his hand, he stepped silently toward the door, the old floorboards creaking under his feet. He pressed his ear against the wood—nothing, just a heavy silence… and a presence.

Swallowing hard, he unlocked the door but kept the security chain in place, opening it just a crack.

“Good evening… who is it?” he asked, his trembling voice trying to sound firm.

The answer came as a brutal shove.

The chain snapped, and Anaxa’s body was thrown back against the wall. The air rushed out of his lungs in a gasp, the knife nearly slipping from his hand.

The figure who entered seemed to fill the room. A tall man—towering over Anaxa, nearly six-foot-five—skin pale as marble under the dim light, icy blue eyes, and hair white as silver, contrasting with his dark clothes. Black leather coat, black shirt, black leather pants, black boots. Everything about him screamed danger.

“You’re Anaxagoras.”
It wasn’t a question.

Anaxa tried to compose himself, but no words came.

The man advanced, each heavy step echoing in the narrow room.
“Where’s the money?” he asked, his cold voice making Anaxa’s spine shiver.

“W-what money?” Anaxa stammered, backing up until there was nowhere left to go.

The man leaned in, close enough for Anaxa to smell tobacco and metal.
“The debt your brother-in-law left behind. He’s gone. Now… it’s your problem.” Each word was a blow.

Before Anaxa could answer, he was grabbed by the collar and thrown to the floor. The impact sent the knife skidding under the sofa.

His heart pounded wildly. Fear wasn’t just a feeling—it was a living weight crushing his chest.

From the next room came the creak of a mattress.
Then, a sleepy little voice:
“Daddy…?”

Anaxa turned instantly. Apollo was standing in the doorway, holding the blue rabbit, eyes bleary with confusion.

The man’s gaze fixed on the child. For a moment, silence—but not empty silence. Something heavy, strange, as if he were assessing a rare item.

Instinct screamed inside Anaxa. He forced himself up, placing himself between the intruder and his nephew.
“Back to bed, Apollo. Now.”

The man raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling in something like a smile—without warmth.
“You have forty-eight hours.” He paused, correcting himself. “No. Forty-two. Tomorrow night, I’ll be back. And when I do… don’t have the kid here.”

Anaxa, breathing hard, tried to hold back the panic.
“Wait… let’s talk here.”

But the man was already heading for the door. He stopped at the threshold without turning.
“No. We’ll talk outside.”

The omega knew he had no choice. He gave Apollo one last look, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Uncle’s just going to… talk to the man. Stay here, okay?”

He shut the door and followed the stranger into the cold street. That’s when he heard the sentence:
“Your brother-in-law owes me more than you could pay in a lifetime. But he’s gone… and he left your name as collateral. That makes you… responsible.” His tone was calm, but each word was heavy as lead.

The door closed behind him, taking with it the last bit of calm in Anaxa’s world.

He stood there for a moment in the silent street, breathing deep—but the cold air burned in his chest. His head pounded, his body shook, and it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the weight of those words.

“Forty-two hours.”
The phrase echoed like an invisible clock already counting down every second.

When he finally turned the knob and went back inside, Apollo was still there, standing in the middle of the room, clutching the blue rabbit.

“Daddy… why was that man on top of you? And… why is the house messy?” the boy asked, looking at the broken chain and the knife on the floor.

Anaxa’s heart sank. There was no time to think of a good lie.

He forced a weak smile.
“Oh… that man… he’s just a friend. He got hurt after fighting with another friend… he fell by accident, pushed me… you know, those things.” He laughed without humor, picking up the knife and hiding it in the highest drawer. “He just came to borrow some money.”

“But… was he really your friend?” Apollo hugged the rabbit tighter, as if he knew the answer wasn’t so simple.

“Yeah, yeah… it’s just that… sometimes people get upset, you know?” he cut the topic short, walking to the door. He locked the bolt and, since the chain was broken, dragged the old sofa in front of the entrance. The screech of wood against the floor made Apollo step back.

Anaxa’s breathing was fast, his eyes scanning every corner of the house as if expecting another intrusion.
“Come on… back to bed,” his voice low but firm. “Tonight we sleep with the door closed.”

He followed the boy to the bedroom and helped him lie down, though his tense eyes betrayed him.
Apollo, lying down, watched in silence.
“Are you scared?” he asked, and the question was like a punch to Anaxa’s gut.

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile.
“No, little one… Uncle’s just tired.” He adjusted the blankets. “Sleep.”

He closed the door but didn’t walk away. He stood in the narrow hallway, listening to the boy’s breathing.

Inside, chaos: the cold face of the white-haired man burned into his mind, the certainty he would return, and the suffocating thought that now there was someone even more dangerous than Apollo’s biological father who knew about the boy.

He had nowhere to run.
No one to trust.
If he tried to flee, he’d be hunted.
If he stayed, he’d be handing his life—and maybe Apollo’s—into the hands of someone who knew no mercy.

The night dragged on, but Anaxa didn’t even try to lie down.

He sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa blocking the door, an old blanket over his shoulders, eyes fixed on the entrance.
Every tiny noise outside made his heart race.

And so, motionless and sleepless, he waited for the dawn.

Chapter Text

It was eight in the morning when Apollo got out of bed asking for milk, and Anaxa tried to act normal, following the routine they always had, especially on days when he didn’t work.

He hadn’t slept at all — at best a ten-minute nap after the sun finally rose, bringing a fleeting sense of safety that evaporated as soon as he heard something outside and all his senses snapped back to alert.

How? How had that alpha managed to register himself as the second guarantor?

His life was already so messed up. Apollo was almost old enough to start school, and the neighbors were beginning to suspect that he left the child home alone. He had been saving to pay for at least a half-day school in the afternoons. But now…

What would his future be? And Apollo’s? He couldn’t possibly pay off that entire debt, and running wasn’t an option. That man wasn’t joking — he knew his life, his name, his address and — worst of all — he now knew Apollo existed. Anaxa had spent years keeping the boy hidden, even from the neighbors, ever since his ex-brother-in-law got out of prison.

What could he do? Anaxa was a rational person, but this situation felt worse than death. Maybe if he were alone, he wouldn’t be so afraid.

Maybe he could manage. Maybe, if he left Apollo somewhere with more opportunities, with a real family and structure… maybe.

“Daddy, thanks for the milk, I love you!” Apollo’s voice came from the kitchen as he hugged Anaxa’s legs, smiling sweetly with his eyes still puffy from sleep.

In that moment Anaxa couldn’t hold it in. Tears sprang to his eyes involuntarily and his legs gave out; his hand loosened and the knife he’d been holding slipped from his grasp along with the stale loaf of bread.

He fell to his knees and could no longer hold back the sobs he had kept bottled up for so long. The small Apollo was frightened and joined him in crying, throwing himself into the omega’s arms. Anaxa squeezed him tight, releasing his scent around the child as if that alone could protect the small being who meant everything to him. Not even his own life was as precious as that five-year-old boy — his only family.

Anaxa hated himself so much. How could he have thought about leaving his only family to strangers who might hurt him? He couldn’t let that happen.

He was the only one who could keep his son safe, even if he had to be tortured or sell his body to pay the debt, only to make sure Apollo would be free from any evil that existed in the world.

“F-forgive me! Forgive me!” he cried.

[...]

Anaxa decided he needed to get out and forget everything for a few minutes. To avoid anyone suspicious seeing him, he took Apollo to the far side of the city.

They ended up in a wealthy neighborhood where all the children watched them askance — they weren’t welcome there. None of the nearby omegas or betas dared to come over.

Apollo didn’t seem to notice the discrimination. He stayed close to Anaxa, playing in the sand with the old toys they’d brought.

No other child approached him, and he didn’t try to go to them either; unconsciously, he seemed to understand the barrier between them. The kids knew they were outsiders in that peaceful environment.

“It’s getting late, they’ll call security soon,” Anaxa thought, watching the sky change color as the sun set.

“Apollo, let’s go!” he said, standing up, grabbing the supermarket bag from his coat pocket, filling it with the sand-dirty toys, and lifting his child into his arms before leaving the park.

From their house to that neighborhood was an hour’s walk carrying Apollo or with him hidden on his back under his coat. Maybe because of his condition, the child didn’t have the weight or size of a typical five-year-old.

Anaxa prayed every day that it was only malnutrition and nothing else — he couldn’t imagine what he would do if Apollo turned out to be an omega.

Birth control was expensive. The pills he took were the expired ones he found in trash disposals; imperfect and risky, but they helped avoid worse situations.

He didn’t want Apollo to go through the same things. He wanted to give him the best, and now with this debt — which wasn’t even his — everything was more complicated. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid.

Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to protect Apollo.

When they got home, Apollo jumped off the arm of the couch and turned the TV to a kids’ channel.

Anaxa used the moment to change clothes and rest his back, closing his eyes. He was exhausted and still didn’t know what to do.

The only money he had hidden away was a pathetic sum — maybe eight or nine hundred in cash, nothing more.

In the hands of that mafioso it would be worth no more than pocket change, something to wipe their own asses with.

He was screwed.

Hours passed and with each minute the omega grew more anxious. At his part-time job in a downtown café he messed up several orders and had to step out repeatedly to compose himself, which only increased his stress and nervousness.

Not even the daytime catcalls and harassment bothered him anymore. At his second gig, cleaning a retirement home in the afternoon, a nameless anxiety gnawed at him.

But he knew one thing: his time was up and everything he had wouldn’t even pay an eighth of what that bastard had borrowed.

On the way home he walked tense, agitated; every sound felt like the end of the world, and to make everything worse, he didn’t know what would happen to him.

While working his shifts he’d asked colleagues questions trying not to sound suspicious — things like, “These days I saw a suspicious guy leaving my neighbor’s house, tall with white hair. Do you think he’s dangerous or known around here?” or “Is there any kind of loan shark in the Bosque? It’s so safe it’s hard to imagine something like that exists, haha.” Mostly he was ignored or given generic answers.

He even tried searching the internet but only found threads like “Is there an underworld in Amphoreus? Here are the most famous theories.”

That made him more anxious: if there was no information, how screwed was he? How had that alpha gotten involved in something so dangerous that there was no trace of the debtor, not even a rumor? That made his situation far worse.

Would he be killed? Tortured? Taken to some night club? And his child — would he be taken into some scheme selling orphaned children to perverts who wanted young cubs not yet revealed?

He stood in front of his house, ready to unlock the door. Maybe he had time to hide Apollo while he at least tried to fight for their future. Maybe, after everything, he could run away with his nephew to another place. Penacony? He’d heard it was a civilization where it was easy to start over — maybe that was a real option.

He opened the door and everything was where it should be. The TV was on low playing a kids’ show. On the couch his little one was covered in milk from the bottle — the bottle lying on the floor — asleep, clutching his battered blue rabbit.

He couldn’t help but smile before dropping his bag and walking toward his child. He was really happy to see that despite the chaos, his boy was living as if nothing had happened — and that was good.

“I thought you’d fled and left the child as payment!” a coarse, cold voice said behind Anaxa, making his whole body go rigid and his heartbeat spike. How? How had that stranger gotten into his house?

“Wouldn’t be a bad payment, but I don’t think he’s worth much on the market, you know? Very undernourished—he wouldn’t fetch much. Maybe twenty-five percent of the value?” the man continued.

Heavy footsteps closed in on Anaxa until the omega with green hair felt the stranger’s chest against his back and a light breath on his neck and ear.

“The first time I came I couldn’t catch your scent — you hide it well — but if you pay attention, you can smell the fear coming off you,” the man said.

“I-I have nothing to do with that alpha’s debt!” His body trembled but he gathered his courage to protect Apollo, even if it meant facing down an alpha. “I have nothing to do with him except disgust and contempt! If it weren’t for him my sister would be alive and my little one would have a mother to raise him! If you want the money so badly… sell me! But you will not lay a finger on my son!”

He said it seriously, turning to face the alpha and looking deep into the bigger man’s blue eyes, which returned the stare, expression dark.

Anaxa didn’t know how he’d found the strength to challenge an alpha so dangerous, but the way the man spoke of his child as if he were merchandise was inhuman. Apollo was an innocent child who deserved love, care, and protection like any other living being. He deserved someone to fight for him to the last breath — and Anaxa would be that person. He didn’t care what had happened to him.

Apollo would not suffer for a responsibility that wasn’t his.

Anaxa felt a hand tilt his face, bringing him too close to the alpha as if the man were inspecting him like merchandise too.

“If that’s how you wish to pay your debt, I accept your offer. I wouldn’t usually be so generous,” the man said, stepping closer, almost pressing his lips to Anaxa’s. “But you might be useful for something.”

Anaxa only felt a blow in his back as the alpha in front of him lit a cigarette and kept staring.

“Learn, omega. The name of your new lord is Phainon, and from now on you will serve me until the last moment of your life.”