by Aiden Bates
If Dustin was home…it would mean confrontation—even if it was nonviolent, it would still have to mean facing him again after such a terrifying experience. Strange as it sounded, now that he knew he was going to be surrounded by friendly Alphas and otherwise well-built and protective friends, he wasn’t afraid of the confrontation getting physical; he would be defended if it did. No, what he was dreading, as much as he knew it needed to happen, was the emotional confrontation that would have to happen. It would be the fact that he would have to look his attacker in the eyes and tell him that he wanted to sever their bond, that made his stomach churn unpleasantly.
Because he would nullify his mark.
His hand found his mark in the quiet dark of the room without him opening his eyes, the pads of his fingertips lightly running over the small, circular divots that Dustin had left with his teeth when they had become bonded mates some years ago. Ending their bonding would require him to, in effect, scar over the bite marks; sure, he could wait until he could schedule a cosmetic surgery to remove the scar, but that was costly, too costly, and it would take too long to go through. He would have to do it the old fashioned way…even if that meant he would be ostracized for it.
Bond marks with a scar through them, or even merely marks that had been removed, were considered the brand of “damaged goods,” and it rarely mattered that the person had moved on, or that they had separated from their former bond mate, that crossed out mark meant that they had been taken, and whoever would follow them would be getting the table scraps of a bad relationship. While not socially outcasted, as it was still something of a private affair, it meant, more often than not, that the Omega that had been marked would struggle immensely with finding someone else to share his life with. Going through with it would mean that Sam would have to accept the fact that he would likely be raising his child as a single parent for the rest of his life.
Considering the alternative, he was fine with that.
What he was even more worried about was the “drop” that would come with the severing of their bond. Alphas notoriously survived the ending of a bond with minimal damage and rarely struggled to find another mate of some description, but the Omegas were often left utterly ruined for ending a bond in both an emotional and a social sense. The social aspect of it didn’t matter to him; the friends he had made cared more about him than a mark, revoked or otherwise, but it was the emotional drop that gave him pause. The severing of a bond left Omegas feeling empty, he’d heard, and desolate. Cast off, succinctly put, though how long the drop was supposed to last tended to vary. The popular theory was that the closer the Alpha and Omega were at the time of their bond severing, the worse the drop would be, and the longer it would take to pull themselves back from.
Admittedly, over the last few months—years, if he was being completely honest with himself—he and Dustin had been struggling to be close on an emotional level. Part of that had been due to the promotion Dustin had gotten at his job; there was more money in the house, though that meant Dustin had simply been home less often, and Sam had begun feeling that keenly in the months that followed. With that absence, Dustin’s possessive streak had swiftly turned ugly, and soon accusations of cheating began to get tossed Sam’s way. Being a remote worker, as opposed to an office worker like Dustin, the Alpha had always been somewhat bitter about Sam’s career, mainly because Sam could work from the comfort of home and he couldn’t. With the longer hours, evidently Dustin had been left to dwell on the thought that Sam could have been straying from him and being unfaithful. Never mind that Sam had never done such a thing and had no inclination to do so—Dustin’s paranoia and jealousy grew no matter what Sam said or did.
Oh, they had certainly tried to work on their relationship—and would see some positive results for brief periods of time, even. It was during one of those upswings, when Dustin was actively trying to work on himself and how he dealt with his feelings, where they had grown sexually active again—and when Sam had gotten pregnant. At the time, when Sam had found out, he had been foolish and thought that it could be a good thing; he and Dustin had talked of children before, back when their relationship was going strong. He had hoped that this would be the turning point for them, where they really came together and became a proper family. That was why this whole scenario had hurt as much as it had—he had hope before it all came crashing down and Dustin showed him how ugly he had become.
So while they had a long history together, and had at one time been as close as two people could be, time, tiredness—and now violence—had driven enough space between them that Sam sincerely doubted that the drop itself would be as bad as it could be, and while he was certain that he was made of tough enough stuff to endure it, however bad it could wind up being, he would rather not have to if there was an option.
Though, as he rested a hand on his stomach and drifted into an uneasy sleep, he wondered if there truly was an option with anything he did anymore.
4
A Tie Severed, A Heart Broken
Sam awoke slowly, as he always did, and for a few blissful moments, he almost thought that everything that the previous night had been was nothing but a bizarre dream and he would find himself back in his apartment. Maybe Dustin would have taken the day off to celebrate the baby, he thought as he opened his eyes. Reality crashed into his skull with the force of a truck when his gaze was met with a familiar overstuffed pillow and the corner of a downy soft comforter—familiar, but not his, meaning that he wasn’t home and everything from the night before was a reality that he was still going to have to face.
His stomach dropped as the last of his hope crumbled, but he took a calming breath, his hand coming up to rest on his stomach. He wasn’t very far along, not far along enough that he was showing more than a small swell, but it was enough for him to imagine that the fluttering in his belly was his child. He had to keep himself calm, he knew—if not for himself, then for the little one growing inside of him. It was enough that he could rally himself into getting out of bed to face the day, he decided, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed.
There were some small benefits to not waking up in his own bed, he decided as he placed his feet on the floor and let them sink into the soft carpet; were he in his apartment, he would have had to brace against the cold of the wooden floors. Small comfort compared to what he was going to have to do in an hour or so, according to his phone’s clock, but he would take what comforts he could at this point. He vaguely debated a shower but decided against it; his hair would likely still be wet when they left, and he didn’t need to get sick in addition to being pregnant; he was tired enough from carrying the baby as it was.
Although he knew he had a lot to do and hadn’t even started any of it, the knowledge of what today was going to signify for him had suddenly drained him of his energy, and even the thought of a shower exhausted him. With a groan, he swiped a hand over his eyes and padded out of the room, not entirely sure whether he was hoping that Adam was awake already or not. The idea of talking made his head hurt, but the thought of having to face his thoughts alone right now made his stomach churn.
He chose the headache and set about making himself at least somewhat presentable.
Wriggling into his jeans and making his way downstairs, he wasn’t at all surprised to find that Adam was already awake, sitting at the kitchen table fully dressed and sipping a cup of coffee as he scrolled through his phone. Adam looked up at Sam as he came in, and he smiled around another mouthful of coffee; he’d caught him mid-sip, after all.
“Morning, Sam,” he said brightly as he tipped his mug up in a toast as a show of greeting, and Sam nodded his head in return as he swallowed around the dryness of his throat, surprised that he felt so parched.
“Morning,” he rasped, nearly coughing from the sandpaper feeling of his voice scraping against his throat. Adam’s smile softened as he set his mug down.
“Coffee?” he offered, gesturing to the pot with his free hand. “Just made it fresh
a few minutes ago—it’s decaf, so it’ll be okay for you to have, too.”
Though Sam wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to keep it down, he nodded and went about making his cup, touched that Adam had made decaf coffee despite having an intense dislike for it. Hell, Sam knew damn well that Adam had only kept it in his home to begin with because his mother drank it when she came to visit him. “There’s creamer in the fridge—it’s that really good Italian sweet cream you got me hooked on.” Adam let out a chuckle, and Sam was grateful; he wanted his coffee sweet but the thought of sugar made his stomach flip. Grabbing the creamer and pouring himself a generous bit into his cup, he stirred his newly made coffee and took a seat catty corner from Adam. “Just got a text from Ben. The group just woke up over at Aranea’s house, so they’ll be over in a bit.”
Sam nodded around a mouthful of his coffee, feeling its warmth flood his insides as he gulped it down greedily. It was a nice peppermint blend, and it helped soothe his stomach a bit, just enough that he could comfortably enjoy it.
“Ah,” he sighed as he set the cup down, his throat feeling much more amenable to him speaking now that he had wet his whistle. “Thank you— I had no idea that this was what I needed, but it was.”
Adam looked up from his phone at the comment.
“Aww, it’s nothing, Sam, don’t worry about it.” Adam said after a moment as he turned back to his phone, likely to check in with the group on how close they were to coming over.
“But I do,” Sam said softly. “You’ve always been so considerate and taken such good care of me—”
“And I always will.” Adam said, setting his mug down after another drink. “No questions asked, no strings attached.”
Sam opened his mouth—to argue and say that Adam didn’t have to do that, that he appreciated everything that he did, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, just that there was going to be something that ultimately died on his tongue. It was a silly point to try and fight against, and saying that he appreciated it over and over would do nothing but aid in the statement losing its meaning. So, he simply sighed and offered his friend a smile, glad to have such a close, lifelong friend he could always rely on.
“Same to you, y’know.” Sam finally settled on after a few moments of silence. “I know I’m going through stuff, but if you needed me, I’d still do what I could, too.”
“Oh, I know that, dummy,” Adam said affectionately with a playful wink. “That’s why I’m willing to help as much as I am.” He gestured to the stove with the hand still holding his cup of coffee. “Breakfast?” He offered. “I was debating an omelet.”
Sam thought to accept the offer—Adam’s omelets were an unconfirmed marvel of the world—but his stomach flipped, and he had to hold back a wince at the queasiness that followed.
“I’m not exactly hungry right now,” Sam said, opting for a half truth, not wanting to worry Adam more than he had to. “I’m sure I will be later, though.”
Adam made a soft noise of protest, but said nothing, as if waiting for Sam to speak—about what, Sam couldn’t say—and they fell into silence once more, though now it was different; this was a silence of waiting, of expectation for conversation that wasn’t coming. It didn’t take long for Sam to realize that Adam was hoping that he would just talk about the things that were potentially on his mind, though the Omega was hesitant to discuss it—that was not to say that he didn’t want Adam to know, merely that collecting his thoughts and forming something cohesive out of them seemed a difficult task. After a few moments of deliberating, he opted to wanting to speak to someone about how he was feeling.
“I’m…I’m scared, Adam,” he admitted in a timid voice.
He curled his hands around his mug and drew it closer, trying to siphon its warmth to stave off the chill of his fear. Sparing a glance at Adam from the rim of his mug as he took another drink, he could tell that Adam was reluctant to respond, his expression troubled but not surprised, something that was rather telling of how Adam had likely suspected that his relationship with Dustin would wind up.
“Are you scared of Dustin?” Adam asked slowly, obviously taking great care to choose his words. The look on his face spoke volumes to his disgust with Sam’s bond mate, and while Sam may have at one time wanted to try and defend Dustin, that instinct had been utterly destroyed less than a full day ago. Still, while not technically wrong, as his fears did involve his bond mate, they were more specific than that.
“Kinda.” Sam let out a sigh and took another pull from his coffee. “I’m more afraid of…of ending things.” Adam tilted his head to the side. “Or at least, what happens when we end things.”
“What do you mean?” He asked with a frown. “If Dustin is gonna attack you like this…”
“I don’t want to stay with him.” Sam clarified as he set his mug down. “I can’t stay with him—not after all of this. I’ve forgiven a lot of shit but this?” He shook his head. “I can’t forgive this. But that’s not what I’m afraid of,” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “But… I’m afraid of breaking our bond.” Realization dawned on Adam’s face. “I’m afraid of what will happen to me, specifically, most of all.”
“You’re worried about the drop?” Adam asked, and Sam nodded. “I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen it happen.” Adam sipped at his coffee thoughtfully, his expression pensive. “I remember being taught about it in sex ed—”
“They teach Alphas about it?” Sam said as he blinked in surprise.
The topic had never come up with Dustin, though now that it had been mentioned, he supposed that he shouldn’t have been all that shocked at the thought; Alphas and their reactions to an Omega’s heat had been addressed when he was young and being taught sex ed in school, so he supposed it only made sense that Omega drops were something brought up to Alphas to instill the seriousness of the commitment a bonding would require.
“Oh, sure,” Adam said with a shrug, standing and refilling his mug. “Once we presented and got shuffled into that special little ‘specified sex ed for Alphas’ class that they had—I’m guessing they have ‘em for Omegas, too?” Sam nodded. Freshman year of high school, when he presented as an Omega once he hit puberty, his sex education class was specified for Omegas to help them understand their bodies and what they would have to face. Adam continued, “They really wanted to drive home the point that bonding was supposed to be something serious, because an Omega could completely crash as an end result of a broken bond.” His eyes darkened as he looked back at Sam, his expression worried. “Do you want to remove your own mark, or let Dustin do it?”
“I don’t think I want to let Dustin get close enough to do it, honestly.” Sam sighed. “But even then…the thought of doing it myself makes me a little sick.”
“If you get too squeamish,” Adam said after a moment of silence, looking at him meaningfully, “I would be willing to help you through it. Just…just don’t forget that you don’t have to face this alone, alright?”
“That means a lot to me, Adam,” Sam said softly, earnestly. “Though really, there’s a lot of steps between now and then for me to have to find out. Much as I don’t want it to be, the bond has to be verbally broken face to face before I even get to that point.” Sam swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “But that’s not entirely bad. I think,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips, “I think it would make it more permanent for me, too.”
Uncomfortable as it would be, he knew that he would make a much more solid recovery, a complete break from Dustin, if he ended their bond in person, rather than merely getting it surgically removed and never seeing him again—such procedures did exist, though the rate of Omegas getting back with their original mates leaned toward that only being an option when there was no other option for him to take. It would be rough, and while he would likely have to remove the mark physically himself, the thought made him vaguely ill. Their relationship was a long and storied one, and Sam knew himself well enough that he might be
tempted to come back to Dustin if he were down on his luck and lonely enough; such incidents had already happened when he and Dustin had gotten into particularly bad fights before.
Though, it had never escalated to the point of being physical before.
“Are you sure you trust him not to escalate things when you end the bond?” Adam was choosing his words carefully, but Sam heard the words between the words: ‘Do you trust him not to attack you again?’
“Honestly?” Sam said as he pushed his mug away from him, the thought of putting anything else in his body was enough to make him sick at this point. “No, I don’t.” His lips pulled into a thin line. “That’s…that’s why I didn’t want to go back alone.”
He shrugged a shoulder, uncomfortable with that knowledge in combination with what he was about to do. Because the mark was so much more than just a physical connection between an Alpha and his mate—it was an emotional merging of two people, to a small degree. It wasn’t enough that bonded pair could feel or know what the other one was thinking, but it was enough of a connection that when two people that were bonded were near one another, they felt a sort of psycho sympathy—there was a background feeling of being with one another, meant to strengthen their connection. Being near Dustin again would mean that he would feel that small bit of the Alpha in him still, that he would be more susceptible to being coerced into staying—in theory, at least, and that was why he was grateful that he wasn’t going back there by himself, on the off chance that Dustin would actually be there.
