by Aiden Bates
“And you won’t.” Adam promised, reaching over and gently covering Sam’s hand in his larger, calloused one. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back, all right?” He flinched slightly as though he realized that his words edged on too personal and amended, “Aranea and the others, too, y’know. None of us would ever make you face any of this alone.”
He squeezed the Omega’s hand to emphasize his point, and the movement helped to ground Sam as he gathered himself.
“Thank you.” He murmured, looking back up into Adam’s eyes.
They both seemed to be still there, in the moment, their gaze locked onto one another. Neither moved for fear of either shattering or escalating the moment, but even knowing that, Sam wasn’t sure which one he wanted. Adam was…Adam was his friend, first and foremost, but Adam was also always something of a complicated subject for him. One that he was never sure he was equipped to face before, because that could potentially complicate things with Dustin. Now that that was no longer a worry…
Well, now he just wondered if it would complicate everything if he addressed them, whatever they may have even become at that point.
There was a knock at the door, and neither of them were entirely prepared for the sound, loud and sharp as it was, and they both jumped a little. Their trance broken, Adam scrambled to answer the door while Sam scurried off to take care of their mugs; he would never let it be said that he was a bad roommate, however unofficial the title might have felt without his stuff having been moved in yet.
Distantly, he heard a gaggle of voices mingling with Adam’s, though he picked out Aranea’s, as well as Ellie, the one Beta friend in the group. The other three voices, while familiar, were jumbled, and he had to come out of the kitchen to see who they were. Rounding the corner, he saw that along with Aranea and Ellie, Ben was there, as well as Michael and Trevor—three other Alphas that had been in their circle for varying degrees of years. Still, they’d all been close, and while Sam had been struggling to stay in touch as much as he used to, he was still close with all of them.
“Hey, Sammy,” Aranea greeted him as she nudged her way through the small crowd over to him, wrapping him up in a secure hug. He returned it, tucking his head against her shoulder like he used to whenever she would comfort him when they were younger. As he breathed in her gentle perfume, he tried to pretend that it was middle school all over again and she was comforting him while his parents fought, rather than the new level of hell that he was enduring in the now. At least back then, the worst he had to deal with was his parents divorcing. Comparatively, he’d go through that a hundred times over, rather than do what he was going to have to do the moment they went to his house. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” she said quietly, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’re all here for you.”
“Anything you need.” Ellie affirmed from the group of friends still standing in the doorway. “You’ve got us, without question, yeah?”
“Thanks, you guys.” Sam sniffed around the sting of tears, not wanting to break down already. “I can’t begin to tell you what this means.”
“Ehh, you don’t have to.” Trevor shrugged, a wide and playful grin stretching across his face. “But you can pay us back with something more…tangible…” he trailed off and dramatically licked his lips.
Sam arched a brow.
“Food?” Sam offered, defaulting to Trevor’s usual method of payment for anything he ever did.
“Food!” Trevor affirmed with a decisive nod, a big grin spreading on his face.
“I’m buying you all dinner tonight.” Sam rolled his eyes as he smiled. “That was already a foregone conclusion when I asked for help.”
The group cheered, and Sam had to fight the urge to roll his eyes again—there were few things that one couldn’t convince an Alpha to do if they were promised good food in exchange, he had learned.
“Right then,” Michael piped up and clapped his hands together. “Are we just bringing your stuff here or have you got a new apartment?”
“Ah,” Sam swallowed. “Here.” He stammered, stealing a sidelong glance toward Adam for any sign of being corrected.
“Yeah, the old guest bedroom is his now,” Adam said as he grinned.
“Please, Adam,” Trevor said as he rolled his eyes. “It’s always been Sam’s room.”
“It has?” Sam asked with a frown, looking over to Adam.
Had no one else ever stayed in it? He had been fairly certain that the Alpha had had guests over in the years since they had remodeled the place.
“It’s a running joke with these guys, I swear,” Adam said, though he was giving Trevor a strangely pointed look as he said it. “You’re the one that’s stayed in it the most, so anyone that’s stayed there has just called it your room.”
“Oh,” Sam said with a nod, content in that answer. Really, it made sense; even after he had bonded with Dustin, Sam had stayed over on several occasions while Dustin had been away because he hated being alone in a quiet apartment, and Adam had always been glad to have him over, so it made sense to simply dub the room as his. Made even more sense considering that it was now actually going to be his. “Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading out?” He fidgeted, ansty and eager to get the whole ordeal over with so that he could just curl into a corner and cry out everything that he was feeling. The sooner it started, the sooner he could deal with it all, though he flinched at the snipping tone he had inadvertently taken with his friends; they didn’t deserve that, whatever he was feeling. “Sorry, I don’t mean to snap, it’s just...” he sighed. “I’m just all over the place, but I still shouldn’t act like that to you guys.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal!” Ben said, smiling reassuringly. “But you do make a good point; we should head over now and get this done.”
“All right everyone,” Adam called, clapping his hands. “Let’s get a move on! Arie, Ben, Ellie, follow me in your trucks. Everyone else can pile into my van. I’ll bet good money we can make this a one-stop trip.”
“Aye, aye, captain!” Aranea said as she gave a mock salute before spinning on her heel and marching toward her truck.
Adam guided Sam toward his van, ushering him in and getting everyone else corralled into the back seats. Sam was aware of the electric tension crackling in the air as Adam started the van and pulled it out of the driveway, waiting for the other two trucks to fall in behind him, and the Omega did his best to try and block it out. Much as he wanted to talk with the Alphas in the group, they were all amping one another up, talking about their plan of attack for getting his things out of the apartment . Much as he was flattered that they were being so considerate of him and his stuff, the whole situation made his stomach churn when he thought about it for more than a moment or two.
Sam fought the urge to roll the window down for some fresh air; it was the dead of winter, it was snowing, and no one else in the car needed to be cold just because he suddenly felt a bit feverish. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from tugging at the front of his coat, stretching the collar in an effort to get some air on his skin. Adam must have noticed his discomfort, because suddenly Sam’s window was rolling down just a bit, followed by Adam’s, and Sam gulped in the crisp, cold air that rushed to greet his face as they finally rolled out at the helm of their vehicular procession.
“Hey, Adam, what’s with the windows?” Trevor asked from the far back of the van. “It’s fuckin’ cold, man!”
“It’s just for a little while.” Adam replied coolly. “Haven’t driven anywhere in a while, getting the stale air out of the van so I don’t hear you assholes complaining about it later.”
“Because we would complain.” Michael conceded with a nod.
“Extensively.” Trevor agreed with a laugh. “Cool, man, just asking.” Adam made a noncommittal hum as he spared a sidelong glance toward Sam.
“Lemme know when you’re good,” Adam said to Sam, soft enough that only the Omega heard.
“Thank you,” Sam said, his face flushed but still he managed
a smile. He leaned his head toward the open window, not sticking his head out but still close enough that the frosty air hit his face head on. He stayed that way until he couldn’t feel his cheeks anymore and, satisfied that he was sufficiently numb to deal with the sudden flash of heat, he rolled up his window. Adam took the cue for what it was, rolling his own window up as well. Sam felt his stomach settle, just a little bit more with the reassurance that Adam was always going to make sure that he was going to be okay.
“So, is Dustin going to be there?” Michael spoke up after a few moments of silence. Realizing that he was the one that was going to have to answer that, Sam swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Ah, he shouldn’t be, but I’m not sure,” Sam said, his voice barely above a murmur.
“I’m guessing this was a big fight, then?” Trevor blurted out. “It’s never been bad enough that you’ve asked us to move your stuff, so it’s gotta be—”
“Cool it, Trevor,” Adam growled, but Sam laid a hand gently on his arm.
“It’s okay,” Sam reassured him with a shaky smile. “They’ll find out eventually anyway, so might as well tell them now.” He blew out a breath and turned as much as his seatbelt allowed. “So, uh, I’m pregnant.”
“Huh,” Trevor said, seemingly unfazed by the comment. “No wonder your scent is different.”
“Yeah, I had wondered if it was something like that.” Michael commented, nodding his head. “Makes sense, though.”
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you guys would be so chill about it,” Sam said, blanching. Though he supposed that he should be glad that it wasn’t a bigger sticking point; as much as it was a major life change, it wasn’t exactly the bigger issue with the whole scenario. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Dustin doesn’t think that the baby is his—”
“But that’s stupid!” Trevor cut him off incredulously.
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it.” Sam said with a sigh. “And he tried to hurt me so that I would…so that I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore.”
It was the gentler way of saying it, but there it was, out in the open for them to know. Ellie and Ben could be told later, when they had already finished up and they had put distance between them and Sam’s old place, but it felt strangely good to have people in his corner that knew the story—more than Adam, at least.
“That evil son of a—” Trevor snarled.
“Hush, Trev.” Michael said in a low voice as he put a hand on his shoulder. “Save your anger for if he’s home.”
“No one start a fight with him, please!” Sam sputtered, anxious energy spiking up his spine. “I don’t want to give him any reason to come after any of us. He’s done enough as it is.” The anxiety that had gripped his frame drained him of his energy, and he sagged back into the passenger’s seat. “I don’t have to know details to guess that it’s not just me he’s been awful to lately.”
The silence in the van spoke for them all.
It was funny, now that Sam thought about it; when he was in a relationship with Dustin and things were going good, he had managed to rationalize every problem that had ever arisen between Dustin and someone in the group—because Dustin had never angered the group as a whole, he knew that he would be outnumbered, but he would pick fights or start petty drama between the other Alphas in their circle of friends. Sam had explained it all away—love and security and not being ostracized socially had been preferable to facing the hard truth that maybe Dustin wasn’t the most ideal person to be bonded with.
Because it hadn’t been all bad, truly it hadn’t; they had decent enough chemistry, and they had been something of a slow burn; from middle school, Dustin had set his sights on Sam, and they had been friends for years before he finally asked Sam to the Homecoming dance their freshman year. It wasn’t as though Dustin had totally isolated him, though Dustin had certainly made it a point to ensure that anyone else that had ever expressed interest in Sam had to go through him first, and by the time high school rolled around, few people were inclined to even bother with Sam at all. He had friends, there was no doubt, but even when they were all hanging out in a group, Dustin would make open and obvious displays to stake his claim on Sam in front of them: long, dragged out kisses in the middle of conversations, grabbing and squeezing Sam’s sides, his rear, any form of physical affection that he could give, Dustin did so, openly and in the public eye as much as he could.
At the time, Sam hadn’t minded it overly much; he had gotten a little handsy and sometimes Sam was a little uncomfortable when Dustin would get so pushy when they were out in public, but he had liked the idea that Dustin had loved him so much that he had to show him off to the world. As the years went by, however, it slowly devolved into Dustin only being overly affectionate when they were in front of people. Looking back on all of it, it was apparent that all Dustin wanted to do was establish that he was a loving and affectionate Alpha that loved his little Omega so that if Sam ever actually left, he could save public face.
No amount of security was worth being treated that way—especially not with it having gone as far as it did.
“Is that his car?” Adam spoke up suddenly as they turned onto the road their apartment was on.
Sam craned his neck to peer into the parking area of the apartment complex, a wave of nausea crashing into them when he did, in fact, spot Dustin’s car, still parked in their assigned parking spot. He swallowed thickly to try and keep what little was in his stomach right where it was and nodded.
“Yeah…yeah that’s his car.” Sam managed to wheeze.
“Right, then.” Adam said with a strange firmness, turning into the parking lot and stopping by the door to Sam’s building. He fished out his phone from his pocket once he had parked the van and dialed someone up, though Sam couldn’t see who, and put the phone on speaker. There were a few rings before the call was picked up. “Guys, Dustin’s there.”
“Ahh, shit,” Aranea cursed. “I thought that was his car.”
“Were we hoping that he wasn’t here?” Ben asked—that was when Sam realized they were in a conference call with all the trucks. Craning his neck, the Omega saw the other three trucks pulled up in a line, all parked in front of the building some car lengths apart from one another. “Are we not doing this now, then?”
“We’re still getting his shit out.” Adam said, his voice stern. “That’s not changing. But we might have to keep Sam guarded.”
Sam thought to correct him and say that it wasn’t necessary, but he knew that he couldn’t trust Dustin to keep things civil. Not even remotely.
“Should we call the police to act as a buffer?” Ellie asked.
“Would they even bother, though?” Ben countered, and Sam could picture him purse his lips bitterly. “The police have so much red tape with Omegas they might not even show up.”
As much as Sam hated to admit it, Ben had a point—with more than half of the police force in the area being made up of Alphas, there were heavy restrictions placed upon them where domestic disputes involving Omegas were concerned. They were mostly there for protection, to ensure that what justice they could help carry out was fair and just. Alpha police officers could not take a side in a domestic dispute that did not have blatant evidence of abuse to avoid claims of Alphas peacocking around one another to coerce an Omega to one side or another. Much as the regulations were based on bad presumptions of how Alphas even operated and did far more harm than good, it didn’t stop them from being in place, infuriating as it was.
“Besides,” Adam cut in after a moment, “involving the police would make this drag out way longer than would be good for Sam—we just keep him protected, load his shit, and roll out as fast as we can, agreed?”
“Agreed.” Aranea said firmly.
“Okay, that makes sense,” said Ellie.
“Then let’s do this.” Ben agreed.
With that, the call was ended, and Adam pocketed his phone. As he killed the engine to his van, he released his seatbelt and turned toward
the others in the back.
“All right, look alive, everyone!” Adam called out as he popped his door open and stepped out. “We get in, we get out, and we don’t let Dustin touch Sam.”
“Got it!” Trevor and Michael said in near unison as they clamored out of the back.
Sam eased himself out of the passenger seat and shut the door just hard enough that it stayed shut, trying to keep the noise down to a minimum to avoid drawing attention. It was going to be hard not to have people eye them suspiciously, what with so many Alphas stalking into the apartment complex. Still, Sam held out the hope that this would go smoothly, unlikely as it was.
“Sam, you got a key for the apartment?” Adam asked as the group gathered in front of Adam’s van.
“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod, fishing the key from his pocket. “Yeah, I got it still.”
“Good, good, saves us having to knock.” Adam said with a sigh.
With a wave of his hand to usher everyone in, Sam took the lead, and silently they entered the building. No one said a word as the Omega led them down the hallway, all the way to the end just before the stairs. Thankfully, his apartment was on the first floor, so moving his things out would be that much easier for them. He hesitated in front of the door, his key in his hand, staring at the brown painted wood.
Fear gripped his limbs and made them work against his wishes, freezing him on the spot. The hand holding his key trembled with his struggle to make it obey him and just move, and he fought back a curse at how weak he was. A large hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned his head to find that it belonged to Adam, giving him a reassuring nod. His friend’s support bolstered him, and with a decisive nod to himself, he forced the key into the lock and turned it, letting himself in first. He heard the others file in behind him, felt Adam less than a foot from his back, and felt his steps grow more confident as he moved further into the apartment.
“Sam?” He froze again when he heard Dustin call him from deeper inside the apartment. “Honey, is that you?”
Why was he acting like nothing had happened? Sam thought with a flash of white hot anger—the man had tried to swing at him, had said that he wouldn’t stop until he was sure Sam had lost the baby, and suddenly, because it’s the next day, it was “honey?” The nerve of him! Sam fought the urge to spit—any warmth he may have felt from his mark felt like a cigarette being drilled into his skin rather than a comfort, and he just wanted Dustin to go away.
