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.

“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.

“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 ground 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.