by Aiden Bates
“Yeah, it’s Sam,” he finally settled on. “Plus friends.”
“Friends?” Dustin called back. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘friends’? I took the day off to try and spend it with you, babydoll.” There were footsteps—socks on the hardwood floors, Sam realized—as Dustin came into view. Just seeing his bond mate—his soon to be former bond mate—was enough to make Sam’s stomach flip and knot itself with nerves. “Huh,” he said, his tone musing, cordial—like he hadn’t tried to murder his own baby the night previous. “Guess the gang’s all here.”
Sam lowered his gaze to Dustin’s hands—his large, scarred, and callused hands—hoping that if there were any signs of aggression, he would see them in his hands first. Talking to the things that had grabbed at him made what he had to say less difficult—hands felt but were unfeeling, able to touch but not sway Sam into changing his mind.
“Here to move my things out, Dustin.” Sam stammered, the quiver in his voice betraying the fraying of his nerves. “I’m…I’m ending things, all right? So please just—”
“Ending things?” Dustin laughed—not the reaction Sam had been mentally preparing for. “Over one fight? Honey—”
“It wasn’t just a fight, Dustin!” Sam shouted, and Dustin blinked, evidently surprised that Sam would ever raise his voice to him. Were he alone, he likely wouldn’t have, Sam admitted quietly to himself. “You tried to hit me in my stomach! After you found out I was pregnant!”
“Oh, honey,” Dustin cooed in a sickeningly saccharine voice. “Honey, you’re confused—I was mad, and I said some stuff. But all I did was try to grab you as you ran away—you make me so crazy sometimes, baby, but you know I love you—”
“Don’t bother, Dustin.” Adam growled. “Sam’s made his choice, and we’re with him.” Adam stepped in front of Sam, acting as a shield between the two of them. “We’re all with him. So, let us help him move out, and don’t make a fuss.”
There was a long, tense moment between the two Alphas, where they had locked gazes. Sam couldn’t see past Adam’s broad back to look at Dustin—and didn’t want to anyway, really—but he couldn’t see Adam’s expression either. The remainder of the group behind him formed up on either side of Sam, with Aranea walking to stand next to Adam.
“Fine.” Dustin spat, his whole tone completely changing, morphing into something dark and angry, and it dredged up all the feelings the previous night had instilled in Sam. Had he been alone for this, he might have started to cry or get sick, one or the other. “If that’s how things are gonna go, then fine.”
“Don’t mind us, then.” Aranea said coolly as she made to step past him. Dustin didn’t move, so Aranea stopped in front of him, looking up at him, unfazed by his intimidation tactic. “If you’ll excuse me, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we get out.”
“Sam.” The Omega flinched at Dustin calling his name but still stepped out from behind Adam to face his soon-to-be former bond mate. Dustin looked at him with an unreadable but notably dark look on his face, and though it made Sam’s skin crawl he forced himself to not look away—he wasn’t going to buckle, not now. “You sure this is what you want to do to yourself?” Sam pursed his lips but Dustin continued, “Honey, you know what happens to Omegas that break their bond—who’s gonna want to love you if you go and ruin yourself like that?” Dustin grinned lazily. “Just tell them to go home, and I’ll forgive you—”
“To answer your question, Dustin.” Sam cut him off, hands shaking from anger at his sides. “I’ll love myself. And so will my child.”
“And so will we.” Adam said, puffing his chest and asserting himself. “All of us.”
“Haven’t you already?” Dustin growled and turned his glare over to Adam. “Or are you just hoping you can pick up my table scraps—”
“Sam, can I put this fucker in the hospital now?” Aranea asked, inclining her head back toward Sam while keeping her gaze forward.
“No, I don’t want it to get violent,” Sam pleaded, hands out and shaking. “I just…I just want all of this to be done with.”
“Suit yourself.” Aranea said simply as she returned her head to its natural position. “Now then,” she looked up at Dustin. “Move or you will be moved.”
Dustin sneered and snarled, and looked like he had more he wanted to say, but all he did was give Sam one more wicked look before stepping to the side and away from the hallway. Aranea moved past him, unfazed by his growling. “Sam, hon, let us know what we’re taking, yeah? You’re directing us.”
“Oh, ah,” Sam flustered, moving around to Adam’s other side to put his friend between himself and Dustin. “Yeah, okay.”
“Why not take a seat on the couch, Dustin?” Adam said smoothly as he escorted Sam toward the bedroom. “We’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Dustin’s lip curled in an unfettered snarl as he glared at Adam but he went over to the kitchen table and sat himself down, positioning his seat so that he was facing the hall. Sam half thought that he was sitting at the kitchen table and not the couch just to spite Adam, but he didn’t care right now; Dustin was out of the way and not attacking him, and that was all that mattered. Even walking down the hallway, his friends covered him from all sides, and only left him once they were all in their—in Dustin’s room.
It was strange, to look around and know that this would be the last time that he would see this place; he knew that staying with Dustin would only lead to a horrible end—for him, and for his baby—but simply standing in the room they had shared for years now had him waxing nostalgic for the domesticity of their relationship, back when things were good—really, genuinely good, when Dustin was affectionate and gentle and only mildly possessive.
Their relationship had aged poorly, Sam noted with a soft sigh.
“Do you want the bed?” Ben asked after a moment’s silence. Sam looked up at him.
“...No.” Sam said after a long pause. “Dustin can keep it.”
“I’d have just burned it out of spite,” Aranea grumbled, “but you’ve always been a better person than me, Sammy.”
“The dresser is mine, though.” He noted, checking the drawers to make sure that everything that he kept in them was still there: the clothes, the stash of cash that he hadn’t grabbed in his haste, and his knicknacks, all blessedly accounted for. “And the desk over in the corner.”
“You got it, boss man.” Trevor said as he saluted him. “Mikey, grab the dresser with me—don’t worry about the drawers, we’ll put it in the back lying down.”
The two lifted it carefully, toddling slowly but surely down the hallway and out the front door with Michael leading Trevor, who was walking it backwards.
The remainder of the group watched them go, hesitating in silence for a long moment. Sam thought to say something but found himself unsure of what would break the silence, or why everyone was reluctant to leave. The Alphas, as well as Ellie, were all sharing a look that Sam couldn’t understand. After a long moment, Aranea sighed.
“I’ll watch over him.” She said, folding her arms over her chest. “You guys grab his desk—Ellie, put everything on top of the desk in a box first and take it to the van, all right?”
“You sure that you’re alright with protecting him alone for a bit?” Adam asked.
“Yep.” Aranea confirmed with a nod, popping the, ‘p’ sound. “You guys clear his desk and get it out of here, we’ll hang back and go over what needs to be taken next.”
“I can help you guys—” Sam began, offering to go over to his desk and take an end of it. Adam wrapped his hand around Sam’s outstretched one, and Sam had to bite back an alarmed noise at the contact.
“You need to just relax. We don’t want you doing anything strenuous,” Adam said as he nodded to his stomach. “I’m no doctor, none of us are, but just take it easy for the baby, all right? Just in case?” he pleaded, gazing into Sam’s eyes.
“I mean,” Sam flushed hotly, looking away. Still, Adam’s hand was warm and soothing, and helped g
round him in the midst of his anxiety. “I get what you mean, I just—” he let out a soft sigh. “I feel bad.”
“You know there’s no need for that, hon.” Aranea said, already helping Ellie put Sam’s laptop, mouse, and other knick knacks into a backpack that was lying around. “This is your bag, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Thanks for putting my stuff in there.”
“Of course!” Ellie said, smiling as she shouldered the pack once it was full. “I’ll go lock this up in my truck, all right?”
She didn’t wait for a response, already heading out of the bedroom. Ben and Adam looked at one another, then at Aranea, nodding and getting to work. Sam’s corner desk was two pieces, so Adam and Ben each took a half on their own, lifting them and heading out of the room one by one. They were conversing about where each piece was going to go, but their voices were getting distant, and Sam wasn’t focusing on them, as he moved over to the closet, pulling the sliding door open. He may not be doing any heavy lifting, but he could at least help sort.
“Would you like some help with that?” Sam spun around, alarmed as Dustin’s gravelly voice piping up from the hallway. Closer than his seat at the kitchen table had been—he must have stood up at some point.
“No, we’ve got it well in hand, thanks.” Aranea snarked back, not bothering to hide the venom dripping from her voice. “Go take a load off, we’ve got this.”
“I asked Sam.” Dustin called back, his voice tight in a way that made Sam’s hackles raise up—that was Dustin’s ‘I’m trying to not show how angry I am but I am very angry’ voice, and Sam hated it.
“I’ve, ah,” Sam managed to squeak, finding his voice, though only just barely. “I’ve got it, but thank you.”
There was a long pause, long enough that Sam had turned back to the closet and began to rummage through the hanging clothes.
“If you say so,” Dustin commented, and there were footsteps against the wood floor again—moving away from the bedroom, thankfully.
Sam made no effort to comment again—if Dustin needed to have the last word in for him to not get aggressive, he could have that. It would be Sam’s parting gift, he decided, and began to remove shirts and pants that were his. While they may not have had sentimental value, their cost was not insignificant—interview clothes, tailored suits, things that he wore for special occasions that he didn’t want to lose. Thankfully, he kept a travelling hanger bag for when he would go out and needed to change clothes, so at least they would stay clean.
“We can hang those in my truck, if you like.” Aranea commented idly, probably to keep the silence from creeping in.
“I think hanging them in the van would make more sense.” Sam replied, zipping the hanger bag and checking on how secure it was.
“Ohh, good point, we can just hang it up in the back and be good.” Aranea agreed, nodding.
Thankfully, Trevor and Michael returned, ready to grab anything else that needed to be grabbed. They didn’t speak, merely looked over at Sam patiently. The Omega fumbled a bit, hesitant to ask anything of them as it was but knowing that it would be the most prudent path to getting out of there, he swallowed his nerves.
“There isn’t a whole lot left, actually.” Sam said softly. “Just my computer chair, my entertainment stand, and my TV.” He paused for a moment. “And my bathroom stuff, but that’s stuff I can put in a box I have—” he muttered, trailing off as he laid the garment bag on the bed and rummaged deeper into the closet.
It was hard, being as deep as he was in their shared closet as it was; Dustin’s scent wasn’t nearly as heavy in the rest of the apartment because Sam had cleaned it so frequently, but here, it was thick, heady, and while it used to be all that Sam had ever wanted to breathe in for the rest of his life, now the scent just made him feel alarmingly ill. While it took a little digging, past Dustin’s workout gear and clothes that he had never bothered hanging up, he still managed to find what he was looking for: a storage container that he had kept off to the side, only barely full but still containing all of his important documents and keepsakes. Thankfully, it had plenty of room, enough room that he could still put the last of his odds and ends inside of it and just be done with this whole place.
Being back here so soon after their fight was doing his nerves no favors, Sam knew. But he also knew that waiting any longer than he did would run the risk of Dustin damaging or throwing out his things, and he didn’t want to take that risk; he had enough things that were worth a decent amount of money, things that helped him with his job, and as much as he would have rather had a few days to process what was happening, his livelihood was on the line, and he would not let Dustin ruin what he had worked so hard to build up for himself for years. He had to salvage something out of giving that…that monster some of his best years of his life, and a child that he had no interest in, that he even thought wasn’t his. Which, at this point, he might as well be right—this child would never be his, never be in his life, and it would be Dustin’s loss. Sam would make damn sure of that.
“You can’t take that,” Sam spun around again at the sound of Dustin’s voice, heart leaping at his throat as he stared at Dustin, standing at the doorway and barring him in, along with Adam, Aranea, and Trevor. Michael, Ellie, and Ben were in the hallway behind Dustin, doubtless waiting for a sign, anything that would give them a guiltless excuse to get him out of the way. Sam followed Dustin’s glare to see that he was eyeing the TV and the entertainment stand that Adam and Ben had begun to lift. “He doesn’t get that.”
“I remember asking you to go sit down, Dustin.” Adam snarled, cracking his knuckles in warning. “Why don’t you go do that. Now.”
“You don’t scare me, whelp.” Dustin spat. “The bitch doesn’t get nice things when he walks out—”
“But ‘the bitch’,” Sam snapped, his nerves finally breaking under the pressure, “is taking what he paid for, so you can stuff it, Dustin, and get out of their way.”
Even Sam himself couldn’t explain where that burst of courage had come from—likely a combination of having so many people protecting him, definitely because he had hit a breaking point with the stress, where his heart hurt, his stomach felt queasy, and his hands couldn’t stop shaking. So what if Dustin snapped too, and swung at him again? He’d lose—he’d lose all of it: the high ground, the lies, and even the chance to hit Sam—everyone else in the apartment would see to that.
“You’ve only been gone a day and somehow you went and found a mouth on you—” Dustin started to move further into the room, but Aranea put herself between them.
“And about time, too.” She snapped. Dustin raised his hand—to strike her, to shove her, it didn’t matter, because no sooner than he did, he was suddenly on the ground, Aranea looming over him with a shoe dug into his throat, and Ben and Adam holding Dustin down by the arms. “Yeah, bad call, buddy.”
“Should I call the cops now?” Ellie asked softly from the hallway, her phone clutched in her hand.
“Nah,” Trevor said quietly as he and Michael resumed moving the TV, maneuvering past Dustin, still pinned to the floor as though he weren’t even there. “We’ll make sure he’s handled. Hey, can you and Ellie grab the stand?” Trevor jerked his head back over to the entertainment stand the TV had just been sitting on. “We can get out of here that much quicker that way.”
“Sure, we can put it in the back of my truck—less maneuvering that way.” Ellie said, and the two women shuffled over to the stand, lifting the light frame with ease and guiding it out of the room.
“Are you happy now, Sam?” Dustin spat, thrashing as much as he could with how heavily he was being restrained. “Are you fucking pleased that this is what this has all come to?” Sam looked away from him, shutting the closet door and trying to block out Dustin but he was just so loud and the room was small enough that the Alpha’s booming voice rang in his ears as he gathered the garment bag he had left on the bed. “You think you can just come in here with your little fucking crew
of fuck buddies—the ones you’ve probably been cheating on me with for years—and just ruin our life together? Just like that?”
“You fucking ruined it, Dustin,” Sam said. “The moment you tried to kill our baby, you ruined it! I was loyal—I loved you!” Tears sprang forth in Sam’s eyes but he angrily scrubbed them away with his sleeve. “I gave you everything, and for what, Dustin?” Even as he glared down at his former lover, even as he saw realization dawn on Dustin’s face, to some small degree, he knew that it was too late. It had been too late for too long, and all the while Sam had ignored the signs because he thought it was better than having to deal with being socially ostracized. “I’m removing my mark. It’s over, you hear me, Dustin? It’s over.”
No more. Never again.
“Sam—” Dustin said, his voice suddenly strangely soft, like he was suddenly aware that everything had gone crashing down, and he had no one to blame but himself.
“Don’t contact me ever again.” Sam muttered, his voice low. “If you do, then I get the police involved.” He slung the garment bag over his shoulder. “I…I don’t need anything else. I don’t care if I’ve left anything—I just want to go.”
“Go ahead, Sammy.” Adam said, nudging his head toward the door. “We’ll make sure you get out okay.”
“Thank you.” Sam nodded and continued out the door without turning back.
“Sam!” Dustin was shouting as Sam continued down the hallway but still he didn’t look back. “Sam, I’m sorry!” The Omega only paused long enough to leave his key in the key dish by the door—he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. “Sam!”
Sam walked out of the front door for the last time, and still, he didn’t dare look back.