3. Silas
Chapter 3
Silas
“ S ilas? I think I need help,” Sammy said through the phone, before he broke into a cough, breathing rapidly like he was on the verge of panicking.
“Sammy, oh thank God. I’m almost there, love. What do you need help with? Are you ok?” Silas white-knuckled the steering wheel while speeding down the winding tree-lined lane that led to Sammy’s apartment, also on the verge of panicking.
“I’m ok, I think. I’m in my apartment. Something happened; everything’s gone. I can’t move,” he said. There was a muffled shuffling noise in the background, and Sammy grunted like he was lifting something heavy.
Silas couldn’t explain how he already knew where Sammy was, or that he was in danger. He’d just started driving. Finn’s reminder that his wolf knew something had been wrong with Jaime before they’d even met had snapped Silas to attention.
His wolf knew. Somehow, his instincts knew that Sammy was in trouble, and where to find him.
Silas had spent all summer throwing up wall after wall between himself and those instincts, blocking out the mourning of Sammy’s rejection because wallowing in it was too painful. Had he not listened now, though, had Finn not called…
Silas shuddered. He couldn’t think about the other possibilities. Not until he knew for sure Sammy was safe.
“What do you mean everything’s gone? Are you trapped somewhere?”
“I'm not sure,” Sammy said. “It just happened so fast, and now I can’t get up.” His breaths grew more frantic, either in panic or because he was trying to lift something again, Silas couldn’t tell.
GOGOGOGOGOGO.
Flashing red and blue lights appeared in Silas’ rearview mirror, still a ways off. Someone must have already called the police.
That was good, right? If Sammy needed medical attention, help would only be moments behind him. But what the fuck had happened for someone to know they should call in the first place? Had there been a natural gas leak? Had a nearby meth house exploded?
“I’m almost there, love. Almost there. Try and relax, don’t get yourself worked up. It’ll be ok.”
It was all Silas could say, over and over while Sammy huffed and struggled against something. It was all he could think, all his wolf could think as they drove those last few miles.
Almost there. He’ll be ok. Almost there. He’ll be ok. Almost there. He’ll be ok.
“I can’t stay like this, I’m going to try and get out,” Sammy said before the line went dead. He’d either hung up or the call dropped.
“Fuck!” Silas yelled, slamming a hand into the steering wheel.
ALMOSTTHEREALMOSTTHERE!
The emergency vehicles had nearly caught up as he rounded the final bend, the handful of one-and-a-half-story duplex apartments scattered along the road just coming into view.
Sammy lived in number seven, the last door on the left of the first row. However, as Silas skidded to a halt in the gravel lot, slamming on his breaks, it was immediately clear he wouldn’t have to direct the emergency personnel to the right apartment, after all.
“Oh my God…” Silas breathed.
A handful of people, probably neighbors, stood in a half circle around Sammy’s apartment.
Or, what was left of Sammy’s apartment.
The back end of a car jutted out where the windows and front door used to be, leaving a gaping hole of shredded building material and wires. Tire marks led from the road right up to his front door, the grass torn in muddy gashes.
Silas was out of the truck and pushing his way through the small crowd in a few large strides. He clawed at the gap between the wall and the vehicle, tearing his way inside, the absolute worst-case scenarios flashing through his mind.
What if Sammy was under the car? What if a beam had fallen on him, pinning him? What if he’d hit his head, or cut himself on something?
GOGOGOGOGO!
Fuck what the onlookers thought when they saw a giant man Hulk smash his way through the wreckage—he just needed to hear Sammy’s voice in person. See that he was ok. Feel his chest rise when he took a breath.
“Sammy? SAMMY?” Silas shouted, fear and adrenaline fueling his final shove through the last bit of resistance until he was standing inside what remained of the small apartment.
“Silas?” Sammy called, his voice muffled.
“Are you under the car?” Silas asked, praying the answer was no. It was difficult to make anything out of the wreckage, with dust coating everything and throwing off his sense of smell.
“No, I’m back here! In the kitchen!” Sammy said.
Silas rushed toward the sound of his voice, clearer now that he was further inside. Boards snapped and crushed beneath his giant strides while the first responders fired up some kind of power saw to cut their way in behind him.
The half wall separating the space from the living room had partially collapsed, and the cabinets and shelves had fallen, lying broken and scattered haphazardly all over the tile floor.
Sammy was in the middle of the debris, sitting with his back against the lower cupboards, completely covered in a fine layer of dust. He looked more like a ghost than Silas’ heart could handle, but his eyes were bright and alert.
Silas rushed over and knelt before him, uncaring about the sharp wood and broken tableware cutting into his knees. Cupping his face, Silas asked, “Sammy, love, are you ok?”
One of Sammy’s hands came up to clutch at Silas’ sleeveless hooded sweatshirt—he hadn’t even thrown on a proper coat before he left the house.
Sammy was breathing heavily, near panting. “I’m—fine,” he gasped. “I just can’t free my legs. I’ve been trying to get out since—since the crash, I think my foot is caught. It’s going numb.”
Silas felt along the back of his head, cradling it away from the hard wood as he checked for bleeding or bumps. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright. We’ll get you out, I promise. Deep, slow breaths, yeah? Were you thrown? Did you hit your head? Did you pass out?”
Sammy shook his head. “No,” he said, words choked on emotion. “I’m just stuck. The phone kept ringing and I knew it was you, but I couldn’t reach it. I can’t get my foot free. I was able to lift far enough to finally grab the phone, but?—”
He took a gasping breath, tears threatening to fall. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m ok, I promise. Really. I just want to stand up—” His shoulders lifted in another big breath.
Silas placed his hand on Sammy’s chest. “It’s going to be ok. Let yourself cry, love. Or scream, if that would help. Or maybe calling me Giant Oaf would make you feel better? I’ve gotta say, I’ve missed it.”
Sammy tried to scowl, but his wet laugh gave him away. “You’re terrible at calming someone down in a crisis.”
Silas gave Sammy the sly half-smirk that had always gotten a rise out of him. “Ahh, are you gonna leave me a bad review? At least throw me a star for showing up early.”
Sammy’s scowl was a little more effective this time, but he placed his hand over Silas’ on his chest, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. “Fine. One star for timeliness. But I’m docking half of it because of the mud you’ve tracked all over the floor.”
Silas laughed and felt like he was the one about to cry when Sammy’s breaths evened out. By the sound of it, the first responders were nearly through the wall.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going to pass out, Silas asked, “How about we get this cabinet off of you, yeah?”
Sammy took a deep breath, steadier than he’d been a minute ago. “Yeah. Ok.”
Silas shuffled back, chucking the loose debris that lay nearby to the side so he’d have room to move. Reaching underneath, he felt for where Sammy was caught. He didn’t want to lift the structure right away, for fear of hurting him.
Silas found Sammy’s foot lodged in between the shell of the cabinet and an interior shelf that had snapped in the fall, pinning him down.
“Can you feel my hand?” Silas asked.
Sammy nodded quickly. “Yeah, I feel that. It doesn’t feel like I’m cut, it just feels like I’m caught and I can’t scoot far enough to twist my foot out.”
Silas gingerly bent Sammy’s foot to the side, careful not to twist his ankle, and slowly lifted the cupboard with one hand. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. Keep going. I can pull it out once you lift enough.”
Silas let go of Sammy’s foot and used both hands to lift the cabinet further, until he bent his knee and retracted his foot, finally free of the structure.
In one swift movement, Silas heaved the broken cupboard away and knelt back down in front of Sammy right as the first responders cut through the wall, carefully making their way through the debris.
“Thank you. Thank you, Silas,” Sammy said.
Silas blinked, unsure how to handle this softer version of him now that he wasn’t stuck. But then a paramedic along with a couple of EMTs were there, ready to provide medical aid, so he stepped back to give them a chance to work. He never took his eyes off Sammy though, and listened intently while he answered their questions.
“Did you fall?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did you ever lose consciousness? Are there any periods that are missing or fuzzy since you fell?”
“No. I was awake for everything.” Sammy’s eyes flicked up at Silas, almost shyly. His phone was resting on the ground beside him.
They began palpating Sammy’s chest and legs, presumably checking for breaks or other injuries, and asking him a handful of topical questions to check if he was cognitively sound.
“Can you stand on your own?” The paramedic asked.
“I think so…” Sammy said, and made to stand.
Silas rushed forward. “Let me help you,” he said.
He didn’t know whether to gnash his teeth or whoop in thanks when Sammy snapped back, “I can stand on my own. I’m fine.”
Silas followed behind while they walked Sammy out through the hole they’d cut next to the car. As they passed, another group of first responders pried the driver’s side door off the vehicle.
“Could have been ejected…” Silas heard one of them say after peering inside.
He’d completely tuned them out while they were working, so focused on making sure Sammy was safe he’d entirely forgotten there would be someone driving the car.
“Are they alive?” Sammy asked quietly.
“Let’s just focus on getting to the ambulance. They’ll take care of the driver,” an EMT said.
Something was wrong, though. Silas hadn’t smelled or heard anyone else in the apartment—no blood to indicate a person lay injured among the rubble. It was possible he’d missed them in the dust and debris, but not likely.
It seemed that whoever they were, they were gone.
Silas wasn’t sure what to make of that, still reeling and fresh off the relief that Sammy appeared to be ok.
They’d barely made it out of the makeshift door cut into the exterior wall when someone came running up to them. “Sammy!” Jaime’s voice rang out. He threw his arms around Sammy. “Oh my God, are you ok? What happened?”
Finn had parked further back to allow the ambulance, fire trucks, and police cars closer access, and was hurrying over behind Jaime.
Sammy shook his head, gripping Jaime tightly before releasing him. “I’m fine. I was caught under a cabinet, but Silas helped me out. I don’t even think I need to go to the hospital.”
“Yes, you do,” Silas, Jaime, Finn, and the paramedic said at the same time.
And yet, Sammy only turned and scowled at Silas. How was that fair? “I’m fine,” he repeated.
“You seem fine, love. But five minutes ago you had half the kitchen in your lap. Let’s let a doctor take a look, yeah?”
When Sammy’s eyes narrowed like he would argue again, the paramedic interjected, “How about you agree to go get checked out, and we won’t make you lay down on the gurney while we wheel you over to the ambulance?”
Silas wanted to grumble about her being the one Sammy listened to, and thank her for reading his prickly nature well enough to understand they were never going to get him on that gurney to begin with.
When they reached the ambulance, the paramedic and EMTs helped Sammy step up inside the vehicle, and before anyone could argue, Silas crowded in behind him.
Sammy turned and did that thing with his eyebrows that meant he was going to argue.
“I’m coming,” Silas said, with enough of the alpha in his voice to let Sammy know he meant it.
Sammy softened and nodded.
Fuck. He shouldn’t have done that—he shouldn’t have used the alpha that way. Cain used to do that all the time, and Silas had fucking hated it.
“Only if you want,” Silas added, softer.
Sammy studied his face. Unafraid, like always. His brows pinched before they smoothed out.
Beneath that gaze, Silas felt like Sammy had pulled back the curtain he hid the alpha behind. “You don’t scare me when you do that, and you can stay,” he whispered, nodding as if the matter was settled.
Twice in the same night, Silas felt relief so tangible it brought tears to his eyes.
“I’ll take your truck. We’ll meet you there,” Finn hollered out from where he and Jaime stood. Silas waved in thanks before the ambulance doors closed.
Silas paced up and down the row of chairs in the emergency room waiting area.
They hadn’t let him go back with Sammy when they arrived, and he was contemplating why he’d been cursed to turn into a giant wolf and not something small and easily overlooked—like a lemming, or a fly. Or maybe one of those tiny adorable owls.
Then he could slip past those annoying automatic double doors and find Sammy.
Thankfully, Jaime and Finn arrived a few minutes later. “They’re only allowing family back there right now,” Silas growled in greeting, trying and failing to put his teeth and claws away.
The nurses at the check-in station were eyeing him warily like he was some tweaked-out meth head.
The canines definitely didn’t help.
“I think they may have just said that because you look unstable…” Jaime mumbled. “I’ll go back and see what they’re saying. Please try and stay calm, or they’ll call security,” he finished, giving Silas a look.
Silas nodded, and Jaime disappeared behind the double doors.
Finn crashed onto one of the bench seats with a heavy sigh. He scrubbed his hands through his golden-blonde hair while Silas continued to pace. “Please come sit down, Si. You’re making me and those nurses anxious.”
Silas huffed but conceded. Finn and Jaime were right, he needed to chill out. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to seep his anxious thoughts all over the place through whatever connection they shared.
Silas sat on the padded bench next to Finn and let out a deep sigh. Immediately, his friend shuffled until they were tucked right up against each other, with their arms pressed together, the way they had when they were boys.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Finn asked.
Silas hated how small his voice sounded. “Do you mean about the car parked in Sammy’s living room? Or your sudden ability to sense my emotions when we aren’t anywhere near each other?”
Finn huffed. “Both, I suppose. But let’s start with the shared emotions thing. I’m not gonna lie, that scared the shit out of me. I thought—” Finn shook his head. “If Jaime hadn’t been there to calm me down, I think I would have driven myself mad. I just knew I had to find you. I knew something bad had happened, and I needed to find you.”
The fear in Finn’s eyes made Silas want to say everything would be ok, that it would all work out. Wasn’t that what an alpha was supposed to do? Make everything better for their pack?
He wanted to take back whatever he’d done to trigger this shift in all of them. Clearly, he was fucking it up, and stressing everyone out even more than they were already.
As if to prove Silas’ point, Sheppard strode through the revolving doors, pushing the one in front along so he could get through faster. His eyes locked in on where Silas and Finn sat, and he hurried over.
How did he know where to find us?
“I called him,” Finn said, in answer to a question Silas hadn’t asked out loud.
“Fucking hell, you two,” Sheppard said, drawing the attention of the nurses all over again. “I haven’t felt like this since—” Sheppard cut himself off, a slight hitch in his voice, then he yanked Silas and Finn out of their seats together and gave them each a fast, tight hug.
It was gruff in the way Sheppard always was, but he couldn’t hide the moisture in his eyes before Silas noticed. “I haven’t felt that panic since we lost Renner. What the hell happened? Is Sam alright? Where’s Jaime?”
Silas and Finn gaped, stunned.
Sheppard never spoke about Renner. Silas could probably count the number of times he’d even alluded to him on one hand, let alone spoken his name. Sheppard had been closest to him and had taken it the hardest when he died.
“Sammy’s fine, I think. Jaime’s back with him now to get looked over. He was up and walking around just fine at the house. Some debris fell on him in the initial impact, but he was lucky. If he hadn’t been in the kitchen…” Silas trailed off, shaking his head.
“What happened?”
Together, they sat back down on the bench. It wasn’t large enough for three grown men of their size, but Finn and Sheppard squeezed in anyway flanking Silas and pressing their sides tight into his while they updated Sheppard on everything they knew so far.
It was comforting in a way that was deeply familiar and yet brand new, and Silas was so grateful for it—even if the nurses were now staring at them like they’d all grown antlers.
Pack is close. Pack is safe.
Check on Sammy.
SammySammySammySammy.
Great. That was back.
Finn rumbled, soothing Silas’ frayed nerves. “Jaime’s with him, and he’s calm. I think Sam’ll be ok.”
Silas raked his claws through his hair, tying it away from his face in a messy half-bun. “Can you please not read my mind? There has to be a way to shut that off,” Silas mumbled.
Finn chuffed. “It’s not reading your mind, exactly. I can’t hear words. Just… big feelings. And it seems clearer when we’re closer.”
Sheppard nodded in agreement, and Finn continued, “Before, I just knew I needed to get to you. Now, I can tell you’re happy we’re here. You’re worried about Sam. You wish you’d paid better attention when I showed you how to make that stir fry.”
Silas whipped his head around. “I was not thinking that. There’s no way for you to know I was thinking that.”
Finn shot him a fanged grin. “I can’t, but I can smell it on your shirt. You used too much ginger and not enough oyster sauce.”
Sheppard chuckled, and Finn joined in, so Silas did too. He’d never been able to stop himself from laughing when he heard theirs. Maybe there was a chance this wouldn’t be such an unmitigated disaster, after all.
That is, once they figured out who drove a car into Sammy’s apartment, and why.
“Speaking of…” Sheppard said.
The three of them turned at once as Gabriel Rivera, the District Attorney of Monroe County and the man responsible for indicting Jackson Bishop and then Jeffrey Dugan last spring for Vera Novikova-Dugan’s murder, walked through the revolving doors.
He’d also learned of the existence of paranormal creatures last spring at Sheppard’s insistence, to help them deal with the mess of Bishop’s mysterious “disappearance” after he tried to kill Jaime and Finn.
Detective Sutton stood next to him. She was more of an enigma to Silas, but she’d never been outwardly hostile or accusatory. They flashed their credentials at the front station and made their way over to where the three of them sat.
Great. Now the nurses absolutely thought they were criminals.
“I called him when I was on the way. It sounded like they’d wind up being involved anyway,” Sheppard said, almost defensively.
Finn and Silas looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Sheppard had found a lot of reasons to call the DA, lately.
“Finn, Silas, Cam. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure,” DA Rivera said. Detective Sutton only nodded.
“Gabe. Thanks for coming. We thought we’d get ahead of things this time and give you a call. What can you tell us about the crash? Did you track down the driver?” Sheppard asked. Silas had filled them in on their absence from the scene of the wreck.
Detective Sutton shot a weary glance toward the DA. “We're following up on several possible leads. Actually, we’re here because we have a few questions for Sam Lamont. Is he able to talk to us?”
Silas’ hackles raised. That sounded benign enough on the surface, but he knew how they’d treated Jaime before they accepted he wasn’t involved with Vera’s murder. Silas wouldn’t allow them to treat Sammy that way, no matter what was going on between Sheppard and the DA.
Jaime’s arrival through the double doors interrupted the dismissal poised on the tip of Silas’ tongue. He hurried over, and before anyone could warn him of their company’s intentions, he said, “Sam’s fine. A few scrapes and bruises, but no broken bones or reason to suspect concussion or head trauma or anything like that. They’re going to give him something for the stress and anxiety from being stuck. We’re just waiting for that to be filled and then he’ll be discharged. We can go back and see him now if you want.”
Detective Sutton smiled, not unkindly. “Great, we have a few questions for him.”