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Sage was out for the rest of the day, and trough the night. When he finally stirred the next morning, it was slightly after ten o'clock. He rose with a soft groan, everything rushing back to him as he sat up and looked around the room again. He checked the details carefully. Checked himself carefully. Nothing was out of place. He truely had been left alone. A heavy sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. Then his stomach growled. He sighed softly, moving to creep out of the bed and open the door to the hall, peeking around nervously before slipping out, heart hammering under his ribs. Hipefythis wasn't....not allowed. But he wanted to find the kitchen. He wandered the halls for a few minutes, before he found the kitchen. Alessandro was already there, he saw, so he froze, heasitating before taking a step backwards, back towards his room. He didn't want to bother him. Make him mad. Whatever.
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Alessandro had been awake since before dawn. He stood at the kitchen island in a pressed charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, espresso cooling beside a tablet lit with quiet reports. The estate was awake in the way disciplined places were, Blitz and Stryker sprawled near the wide glass doors that opened to the grounds. Blitz lifted his head first. Stryker followed a heartbeat later. Alessandro looked up. Sage stood at the edge of the hall like someone who expected the floor to give out beneath him. Alessandro noted everything in one pass: the hesitation, the backward step, the way Sage’s shoulders curved inward as if bracing for impact that never came. Hunger had driven him out. Fear was trying to drive him back. “Don’t,” Alessandro said calmly. Not sharp. Not loud. Just firm enough to stop him without startling him further. “This is the kitchen,” he continued, setting the tablet aside and turning fully to face him. His hands were empty. No weapon. No glass. His posture was relaxed in the way only dangerous men could afford. “You’re not trespassing.” Blitz thumped his tail once against the floor. Stryker watched Sage with alert curiosity but didn’t rise. Alessandro gestured lightly toward the counter. “You slept almost fourteen hours,” he said, tone factual. “That usually comes with consequences.” He let the faintest pause sit. “Breakfast,” he finished. He turned back to the counter, deliberately giving Sage his side rather than his full attention—a calculated choice, meant to ease rather than corner. He poured another espresso, then reached for a pan, movements unhurried. “You don’t need permission to eat,” Alessandro added, voice steady over the soft clink of porcelain. “And you don’t need to leave because I’m here.” He glanced back briefly, dark eyes meeting Sage’s. There was no heat there. No judgment. Only assessment—and something quieter beneath it. “If you want to go back to your room, you can,” he said. “If you’re hungry, stay.” Blitz yawned hugely, unconcerned. Stryker settled back down, satisfied. Alessandro cracked an egg against the pan with practiced ease. “But don’t confuse silence for disapproval,” he said calmly. “I would tell you.” And for the first time since the night before, the choice—however small—was Sage’s to make.
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When Alessandro spoke up, sage froze where he stood, panic flaring on his chest before he realized he was just inviting him in. He felt a somewhat sheepish smile twitch onto his face knowing that he'd been spotted. "Right," he noted, mostly to himself, when he was reassured he wasn't trespassing at all. That he didn't need to leave when someone else was here. His shoulders relaxed slightly at the note. Good. He could move around the house, at least to rooms he needed to go to, without consequences. When he was invited in, he heasitated for a moment, glancing back down at the hallway, where his room already seemed like a safe spot in this place, new as it was. But....he really was hungry. After a moment or two, he slipped into the kitchen, treading lightly as he moved to perch in a seat across from the other man's spot. The wolves were on the floor between them, and he watched them curiouslu for a moment before bending over to extend his hand for them to sniff. "What are their names?" It was a quiet question. Soft, but curious enough to overcome his fear.
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Alessandro kept his movements slow as Sage crossed the kitchen, deliberately mundane—turning down the heat, setting a plate aside—anything that made the space feel occupied rather than controlled. When Sage took the seat across from him, Alessandro noted how lightly he perched, as if ready to bolt. The wolves noticed him too. Blitz lifted his head first, ears forward but relaxed, tail giving a single thump against the floor. Stryker’s gaze tracked Sage’s hand with calm intensity, assessing rather than threatening. Neither moved until Sage extended his fingers. Alessandro didn’t stop him. “Easy,” he murmured—not to Sage, but to the wolves. Blitz leaned forward to sniff, nose cool and curious, breath warm. Stryker followed a second later, slower, more deliberate, brushing Sage’s knuckles with his whiskers before pulling back. No teeth. No growl. Acceptance. At the question, Alessandro glanced up from the pan. “Blitz,” he said, nodding toward the darker wolf, broader through the shoulders. “Stryker.” He watched Sage’s face as he added, “They won’t hurt you. They’re very good at knowing who doesn’t need to be afraid.” Blitz settled his head back down, apparently satisfied. Stryker lay as well, but kept his eyes open, attentive. Alessandro slid a plate onto the counter—eggs, toast, fruit. Simple. Intentional. He pushed it across toward Sage without ceremony. “You can eat,” he said quietly. “They won’t mind.” He leaned back slightly, resting one forearm against the counter, posture open but grounded. Not looming. Not retreating. Alessandro gestured to the two large wolves once more, “Their mother was killed by poachers. They were barely old enough to survive on their own.” Blitz’s tail thumped once at the sound of Alessandro’s voice. Stryker shifted closer to his leg, solid and grounding. “I found them after,” Alessandro said, eyes briefly unfocusing as memory passed through him. “Half-starved. Angry. Loud. They didn’t trust anyone. For a long time.” He rested his hand on Stryker’s broad head, fingers threading into thick fur with practiced familiarity, then slid his hand to Blitz—equal, deliberate. “I raised them myself. Bottle-fed. Taught them commands. Boundaries. Loyalty,” he said. “They grew into what you see.” His gaze returned to Sage—not sharp, not testing. Simply honest. “They know the difference between a threat and someone who’s already been hurt,” Alessandro said quietly. “That’s not instinct. That’s experience.” The pan hissed softly as he turned off the heat. He didn’t rush Sage. “If they thought you were a threat,” Alessandro added, calmly definitive, “you wouldn’t be sitting here.” Blitz yawned, wide and unconcerned, then settled fully. Stryker remained alert but calm, watching Sage with steady eyes. Alessandro folded his arms loosely and leaned back against the counter. “Take your time,” he said. “No one’s counting minutes here.” And for once, the truth of it didn’t feel like a trap.
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Sage was glad to see the wolves react kindly to him.....he's always wanted some kind of animal companion, but had never been able to care for one, so he'd never gotten one. He hadn't thought that to be very fair to whichever animal he'd gotten. Besides, Casper never would have allowed it. He'd claim it would be dirty. Smelly. That sort of thing. He hummed softly as Alessandro explained their past, face softening slightly as he ran a soft hand along the head and back of the wolf closest to him....Blitz, he thought. "They're lovely," he noted, meaning more than just well behaved. They were cool looking. Pretty. Well behaved yes, but also intelligent. Kind when need be. But there was the darker side to them too...and he wasn't afraid of it. He had bared his own teeth just the other night, after all. A small smile twitched the corner of his mouth upwards when he mentioned they would t hurt him. "If they wanted me gone I'm sure I wouldn't stand a chance," he mused, already clearly enjoying the animals' company despite only knowing them for about thirty seconds. He was caught off guard when the plate was slid towards him, and he stared at it in surprise for a moment. He'd never had someone make him a meal before. Heck, normally he skipped breakfast and had to run to work. But he was hungry. He tried to control himself, he did...but he hadn't eaten for almost an entire day and...well, the plate was emptied quickly, despite his attempts at self control.
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Alessandro watched the interaction in silence, leaning lightly against the counter as Sage’s hand found Blitz’s fur without hesitation. Blitz accepted the touch immediately, tail giving a slow, deliberate sweep against the floor. Stryker remained standing, watchful but calm, amber eyes tracking Sage with measured interest rather than suspicion. Neither wolf tensed. Neither pulled away. That alone told Alessandro a great deal. “They know,” he said quietly, answering Sage’s unspoken curiosity. “Who they can trust. Who needs watching. They’ve never been wrong.” When Sage called them lovely, something in Alessandro’s expression shifted—subtle enough most would miss it. Pride, restrained. Not ownership, but recognition. The wolves weren’t weapons to him. They were constants. Anchors. Blitz leaned harder into Sage’s touch, clearly pleased. At Sage’s comment about not standing a chance if they wanted him gone, Alessandro allowed himself the faintest exhale of amusement. “That’s true,” he said evenly. “Which is why the fact that you’re still standing matters.” He moved then, quiet and deliberate, setting the plate down in front of Sage without ceremony. No grand gesture. Just food, offered when it was needed. He didn’t hover as Sage ate—didn’t comment on the speed, the hunger, the way restraint lost out to necessity within seconds. Alessandro had seen starvation before. The kind that wasn’t about food. He waited until the plate was empty before speaking again. “You don’t need to apologize,” he said calmly, anticipating the instinct before it surfaced. “You were hungry. You ate. That’s not a failure.” Stryker lay down nearby, heavy body settling with a soft huff, while Blitz remained close to Sage’s side, tail occasionally brushing his leg. Protective—but not possessive. Alessandro straightened, folding his hands loosely. “You’ll eat regularly here,” he continued. “Sleep too. You don’t owe anything for either.” His gaze met Sage’s—not probing, not demanding. “You don’t have to earn being treated like a person,” he added quietly. “You already are one.” He glanced briefly at the wolves, then back. “And if you want their company,” Alessandro said, tone steady, “they’ll stay. Just know—once they decide you’re part of the space, they take that seriously.” Blitz flicked an ear, as if in agreement. Alessandro stepped back, giving Sage room again—not retreating, just allowing. “Rest,” he said simply. “We’ll talk later.” Not if. When. For now, Alessandro was content to watch a man who had lived too long without kindness discover—carefully—that it could exist without strings.
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Sage glanced down at the wolves as Alessandro continued to talk about them. How they worked, how they could tell about people. "They're smart creatures," he agreed, hand finding Blitz's fur again once he'd finished eating. The meal had been good....he wasn't stuffed full to the point of being sick, but he wasn't hungry or unsatisfied at all. Alessandro was good at this whole reading people thing, he thought. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but so far it hasn't been bad. He had, in fact, been about to apologize, but the other man had gotten there first. He twirled the lip ring with his teeth and tongue, drawing it into his mouth slightly to knaw on it. It was an old habit....one he'd picked up years ago. When he was thinking, mostly...when he was nervous he had other bad habits. He'd gotten the lip ring since that tended to hold up better than his actual lip did. "Right," he noted with a sigh. "I guess there's a lot I'll have to get used to," he added. It was a simple statement, but it was letting Alessandro know that he would stay. He was willing to learn, to offer his help with what he could once he'd earned the other man's trust. He'd moved to stand up then, placing the dishes in the dishwasher before moving towards the door. As he walked, he felt the brush of fur against his leg, and he couldn't help the grin that formed on his face when he'd realized Blitz was following him. He continued out of the kitchen with the wolf at his side, glancing back at Alessandro in the doorframe, pausing. "Why me," he asked quietly. "What...what made you decide I deserve all this?" It was a heasitant question. Nervous. But he needed to know the answer to it. It was one he didn't understand himself....why someone would go to such lengths to help him. Was he even the reason? The small details in his room - clothes, hair brush, even a stick of eyeliner....they told him this was planned. Alessandro had crafted the room for him. He'd planned this out carefully. But why?
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When Sage stopped at the doorway and asked the question, Alessandro straightened from where he leaned, the easy stillness of him sharpening into something more deliberate. Why me. He had asked himself that same question once, years ago, standing in a much darker room with blood on his hands and no one left to answer. Alessandro stepped closer, but not into Sage’s space—close enough to be present, far enough to leave him room to breathe. Stryker remained where he was, calm and grounded. Blitz stayed at Sage’s side. “Because you didn’t ask for rescue,” Alessandro said finally, voice low and even. “You fought.” He held Sage’s gaze, unblinking. “You didn’t beg. You didn’t freeze. You didn’t barter your dignity when you thought it might buy you time.” A pause. “You went looking for the person in charge.” That mattered. “I’ve seen men who talk about loyalty,” he continued. “I’ve seen men who mistake fear for obedience. And I’ve seen men who confuse survival with consent.” His jaw tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t,” he said. “Even when it would have been easier.” Alessandro glanced briefly toward the hall—toward the room that had been prepared. Not a cell. Never that. “I don’t help people because they ‘deserve’ it,” he said honestly. “I help them because they’re at a breaking point where intervention changes the outcome.” He looked back to Sage. “You were there. And you still had your teeth.” The faintest curve touched his mouth—not a smile, but something close. “The room wasn’t a kindness,” Alessandro added. “It was preparation. I plan for contingencies. You were one.” Not a victim. A variable worth accounting for. “You didn’t end up here because of pity,” he said quietly. “You ended up here because I recognized someone who hadn’t been given a choice—and hadn’t stopped being himself anyway.” He let the words settle, then softened the edge just a fraction. “You don’t owe me gratitude,” Alessandro finished. “You don’t owe me loyalty. All I expect is honesty—and that you don’t lie to yourself about what you need.” Blitz’s tail brushed Sage’s leg again, a quiet affirmation. Alessandro inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the courage it took to ask the question at all. “Get some rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, we start figuring out what you want this to be.”
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Sage didn't know if he'd expected Alessandro to answer honestly. Or at all. But he did. And it made ...a decent amount of sense to him. At least, from his initial thoughts about it all. He nodded slowly, thoughts working about a million mile a minute as he processed everything he'd just been told. Did he still have his teeth? He had, when the situation became desperate. But before that? He'd cut them. Pulled them. Whatever he needed to do to be safe. He couldn't help but feel like he was lying to them both a little bit about still having those teeth. He ignored that for now though, suddenly exhausted again as sleep was mentioned. He just nodded, a faint smile forming on his face - the first genuine smile directed at someone Alessandro would have noticed. Probably the first one in years. "Thank you," he noted softly, before slipping out of the kitchen and moving back towards his room. He closed the door behind him once he got back in, stopping over to pat Blitz happily and moving to open the curtains to let some light in. He did a few other things too....rearranging the room to feel more....him. Maybe fifteen minutes had passed before a splitting headache hit him, bad enough to stagger him slightly. When his nose started bleeding he realized what was happening though, and he grabbed a hold of his nose so as hot to drip blood everywhere, hissing a list of curses as he moved towards the bed hurriedly. This would complicate things. No one knew this happened yet. The bed was soft ...it was his best bet for now. He didn't get there. He collapsed about halfway across the room, and would have struck his head rather hard on the floor had Blitz not appeared there under him. He was barely aware of the wolf curling around his head, then wasn't aware of anything at all as his body took over, twitching on its own accord. The wolf had curled around his head, keeping that from hitting anything but his softer body, lifting his nose to bark loudly, alerting Alessandro that something was wrong.
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Alessandro felt it before he heard it. A sharp, instinctive pull low in his chest—the kind that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with experience. Blitz did not bark without reason. Not ever. The sound echoed down the hall, urgent and wrong. Alessandro was moving before the second bark finished, stride long and controlled, Stryker already at his side. He didn’t knock. He didn’t hesitate. The door opened under his hand and he was inside the room in seconds. The sight stopped him only for a fraction of a heartbeat. Sage was on the floor, body rigid and jerking, blood streaking from his nose. Blitz was curled tight around his head, broad body braced to keep Sage from striking the floor, eyes wild but focused. Stryker hovered near Sage’s legs, tense and ready, looking to Alessandro for direction. “Good,” Alessandro said sharply, dropping to his knees beside them. “Good boy. Stay.” His voice cut clean through the panic. He didn’t touch Sage immediately—another learned instinct. Seizures punished the careless. Alessandro slid his jacket off in one smooth motion and folded it under Sage’s shoulder to keep him from twisting too hard, careful not to restrain him, not to interfere with the movement of his airway. “Blitz, hold,” he murmured, one hand steadying the wolf’s neck, grounding him. Alessandro tilted Sage’s head slightly to the side to keep his airway clear, eyes tracking the timing of the convulsions with frightening precision. Not guessing. Counting. “Fuck,” he breathed under his nose—not anger, not fear. Calculation. He reached for the comm in his ear with his free hand. “Matteo,” he said, voice calm and clipped. “Medical. Now. Private house. Bring Dr. Rinaldi. No sirens.” A pause. “Yes. Seizure.” He ended the call and focused fully back on Sage. “You didn’t tell me,” Alessandro said quietly—not accusing, just stating fact, as if Sage could hear him. “That’s alright. You didn’t need to.” The convulsions began to slow. Alessandro stayed exactly where he was, one hand hovering near Sage’s shoulder, the other braced on the floor, grounding himself so the room didn’t tilt with the weight of the moment. “Stay with him,” he told Stryker softly. The wolf obeyed instantly, lowering himself closer, warmth and presence anchoring Sage’s legs. Blitz did not move an inch, body curved protectively around Sage’s head, muzzle flecked red where blood had touched fur. Alessandro swallowed once, jaw tight. “This,” he said under his breath, not to the wolves but to himself, “is why I don’t leave people alone when they say they’re fine.” The seizure broke at last, Sage’s body going slack, breath shallow but present. Alessandro leaned in closer, two fingers at Sage’s neck, counting silently until the rhythm steadied. “Good,” he murmured again, softer this time. “You’re still here.” He stayed there—on the floor, expensive suit forgotten, blood on his hands—until the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hall. When Matteo and the doctor arrived, they would find Alessandro exactly where he was meant to be: between Sage and the floor, between Sage and the world. Alessandro Moretti had promised he wouldn’t let Sage disappear. And he had never been a man who broke his word.
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