Truly, getting Sam’s things out of the apartment was the hardest bit—after Sam had stepped out of the apartment, Dustin had seemingly lost his energy, and had simply lied there as the group of friends followed Sam out. Adam was fairly certain that he heard the bastard cry as he shut the door, but honestly, he couldn’t care less; as far as he was concerned, Dustin had stopped being his friend—and worthy of anyone’s time or pity—the moment he tried to put hands on Sam.

Now what mattered was what was going to come after—Sam was going to have to remove his mark, and it was probably by way of a knife. It wouldn’t be anything lethal, merely a slash through the two points where the canines broke the skin, but it would be the emotional drop that he would have to face later on, after the bond was physically severed, that worried Adam the most. Knowing that Sam would likely wait until they were home, after the others had left and been sufficiently fed as they were promised. It would make the most sense—as close as the group was, when a mark is removed, it is a private affair, and Adam would be surprised if he was even going to know precisely when Sam did it. And he didn’t need to know, really—he was going to support Sam in any way that he could regardless, so the when and how of Sam removing his mark was none of his business unless Sam decided that it was.

Even as they piled back in the van and Adam led their caravan of vehicles back to his house, he couldn’t stop stealing glances over to Sam, sitting in the passenger seat. The Omega seemed almost impossibly still in his seat, save for his fingers gently running over the mark on his neck, back and forth, over and over as he stared straight ahead of him. Adam’s heart ached at the sight, knowing that reality was beginning to settle in and that it would settle very poorly considering the circumstances. All Adam could hope for at that point was that, through all the grief and hurt that Sam would go through, that he would at least not have to mire through it all alone.

The ride back home was a short one, though it being spent in silence made it drag out that little bit longer. While Adam didn’t mind being able to focus more on the road, the silence felt more than a little heavy in the air, and it felt no better even as he parked the van in his driveway and killed the engine.

“All right, everyone,” Adam spoke up, trying to keep his tone light without faking cheerfulness. “Time to unload all this into the house and grab some food.”

“Yessir!” Trevor said as he hopped out of the van first, already heading to one of the trucks, eager to get it over with to receive his payment.

Adam lingered behind with Sam after the van had emptied and tried to find the right words to say. Sam looked so utterly lost, like he didn’t know where to go or what to do with himself at this point, and he felt a wave of sympathy for him.

“How you holding up, hon?” Adam asked quietly after a long moment, knowing that the normal, ‘you okay?’ would be a silly question that he already knew the answer to.

“Honestly?” Sam said quietly. Adam nodded. “I’m not doing…well.” The Omega shrugged. “I’m mostly numb to all of it still, so I’ll cope.” Adam wanted to ask more, to press a little further to get him to talk, but Sam was unbuckling his seatbelt and moving to step out of the van. “Come on, we’ve gotta help them get everything in the house.”

Sam scrambled out of the van before Adam could say anything more, so the Alpha simply sighed and followed behind him, helping Ben pull the desk out of the back of the truck and bringing it inside. Stealing a glance over his shoulder as he stepped inside the house, he saw that Sam had his garment bag in his hands, standing off to the side and letting the Alphas carrying his furniture go ahead of him.

“Hey, Sammy—where are we putting the dresser? Isn’t there furniture already in that room?” Michael shouted back at Sam, who had trailed in behind everyone else bringing things inside.

“It’ll fit in there—there isn’t much in that room.” Adam answered for him, shifting the part of the desk he was holding to carry it up the steps easier.

Maneuvering the desk, dresser, and entertainment stand was the most difficult part of the job, really—the room wasn’t small, but it was still a bit of a squeeze for the furniture to get through, though they did manage to find room for all of it, turning the bedroom into a cozy living space. Sam would have to shuffle things around to his liking—in so much as the space in the room would allow—but it was now Sam’s space and actually felt like it.

Sam seemed to think so too, or at least, it looked that way as he moved about the room, hanging up his things in the closet and setting up his laptop and knick knacks with a slow, reverent pace with a strange sense of finality to it, as if he were coming to grips with the thought that yes, this was going to be his space, this was going to be his home.

Adam could see that Sam was still processing, though—he could see it in the way that Sam would hold trinkets in his hands, turning them over for inspection as though they were completely new to him—and knew that Sam needed privacy, just for a bit. He ushered the group out of the room to give the Omega some space to come to grips with things.

“We’ll be downstairs, Sammy,” Adam said as the last of their friends filed out of the room and began to climb down the stairs. “Take your time, all right? Whenever you’re done, come on down, and we’ll figure out what we’re doing for food.”

Sam didn’t answer immediately, and his silence was what made Adam only worry more than he already was. He had to bite back the urge to press his friend to say something—anything at all—knowing that he would only be doing so to ease his own concern, and not Sam’s. He didn’t need that right now—what Sam needed most was to know that he didn’t have to worry about pressure when it came to Adam, especially now that they were going to be living together. Still, Adam thought to open his mouth and ask Sam if he heard him when the Omega turned from his desk to face him.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Sam said, smiling at him, though Adam couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks, man. I’ll be down in a minute or two, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Adam said softy, nodding his head. “Yeah, that sounds good, hon.”

Adam made his own way down the stairs to the living room where the group had gathered, his heart heavy with concern and worry for Sam and what would become of him.

Everyone was already waiting for him—and Sam, no doubt—when Adam joined them. They were all standing, likely in anticipation for heading out to grab food of some sort, and seemed surprised when Adam joined them alone.

“Sam doing all right?” Trevor asked, leaning against the door frame leading into the living room as Adam stepped beside him.

“No offense,” Ben spoke up before Adam could say anything. “But that’s a really stupid fucking question, man.”

“I mean…I guess that’s fair.” Trevor grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m just worried about him is all.”

“We’re all worried about him,” Adam said, hands out in a placating manner. “And we’re all a bit on edge because of that,” he gave a pointed look at Ben—while Ben hadn’t been wrong, there was no need to be rude about it, really. “But I’m sure once we get some food in our stomachs, we’ll all feel better—Sam included.”

“He still settling in a bit?” Aranea asked, her arms folded over her chest.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s just processing things right now.” Adam said, nodding.

“He still has his mark, though,” Michael noted, his expression dark. “He’s going to have to remove that, the sooner the better.”

“I know that, and so does he.” Adam said as he scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “We’re all going to have to support him through that whole mess. I’m sure I don’t have to spell out what’s going to happen to him the moment he actually does it.”

The silence in the room spoke for all of them. There was very little that could be said that would be an appropriate thing to follow that topic up with. They all knew what Sam was going to have to go through, and how little they were going to be able to help him with it.

Thankfully, the heavy silence didn’t last long—the soft thumping of Sam’s feet carrying him down the stairs warned them that he was coming down finally, and they all wordlessly agreed to not let him see their concern; there was no need to add to Sam’s stress by making him painfully aware that they were all worried for him.

“There he is!” Aranea greeted, her tone bright as Sam gave her a bashful smile.

“Yep,” Sam nodded, popping the, ‘p’ as he scratched at the back of his neck—a nervous habit of his. “Here I am.” He looked around the room, and for a moment, Adam was worried that Sam would just know that they were all talking about how worried they were for him despite their efforts. “Hey, did you guys decide on what food I’m getting you?”

“I’m thinking pizza.” Trevor spoke up, raising his hand.

“You’re always thinking pizza.” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “You don’t count.”

“You wound me!” Trevor said with a gasp, clutching at his chest in mock agony.

“Before we pick something,” Adam said, leaning casually against the wall. “Tell us what you don’t want to have to eat or smell. You’re the pregnant one, Sam, you’re the most sensitive to the taste and scent of food right now.”

“Ooh, good call, big man.” Ben said with a nod.

“Err…” Sam spoke hesitantly, shuffling his feet. “I don’t think I can stomach the scent of garlic right now. Sorry, Trevor.”

“Eh, no reason to be sorry, dude.” Trevor reassured him with a shrug and an easy smile. “I can always get pizza some other time.”

“Thanks,” Sam said with a smile, already looking a little less bashful. “How does everyone feel about Vietnamese food?” He offered with a blush. “I’m craving pho.”

“Well,” Adam said with a grin slowly spreading across his face. “I think that sounds pho-nomenal!”

He couldn’t help the pun—he never could when the opportunity presented itself—and he also couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his own joke, as awful as it was.

“I’m fairly confident that I’ve threatened you with bodily harm at some point before, if you ever made an awful joke like that again.” Aranea said, glaring at him even as she was fighting against a smile.

“Ehh, I’m still not sorry, Arie.” Adam responded casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

Still, he felt like it was a personal victory when Sam snorted a laugh at the joke. Aranea must have realized that it was for the best that she let it slide because of that as well, if the way she gently smiled and didn’t press the issue.

“There’s a good place not far from here that delivers. We could call them up for an order?” Adam offered, pulling his phone out and pulling their menu up online.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Sam said with a shrug, taking the phone from Adam. Sam scrolled through the menu first, placing his order through the app before passing the phone off to Ellie. “Everyone just take your turn putting your order in, then give the phone back to me so I can pay for it.” Sam said with a smile.

It was the most casual and easy going that Sam had sounded since he had come to the house the night before, Adam noted with a small hint of relief. By no means did he think that Sam was suddenly fine—especially considering that he still had his mark—but he was glad that the group could have this moment of levity between them, one last bit of enjoyment before Sam was going to have to face his own personal hell.

As he watched Trevor and Ellie crack more jokes with Sam as he placed their order, Adam could only hope that this was enough. That they were all enough.