17. Sam
Chapter 17
Sam
D im, grey morning light fell across the mussed duvet, weak through the still-falling snow and the hushed protection of their bedroom.
Tucked in beneath the covers and sprawled out practically underneath Silas, with only his nose poking out from the sheets to breathe, Sam thought if there were ever a moment he would choose to freeze time and live in forever, it would be this one.
Except he needed to shower, because they’d fallen asleep last night before Silas could even comfortably pull out, and when his knot had finally softened, Sam was covered in… them.
Silas shifted, making sleepy little growly noises and snuffling his nose into Sam’s hair, pulling him further into his arms.
At least he seemed content with the way they smelled.
The usual weight squatting on Sam’s chest whenever he woke up was missing, replaced with a contented peace so light he could have floated away had Silas not anchored him down.
His first thought upon waking had shifted throughout the past few weeks.
I have to leave.
I have to tell Silas and leave.
I have to tell Silas and he’ll make me leave.
I have to tell Silas and beg him to let me stay.
I have to tell Silas.
I have to stay.
This morning, his first thought was I get to stay.
With the clarity of hindsight, Sam knew deep down that was what he’d always wanted, he’d just been too afraid to even wish it at the start.
He turned his head and placed kisses all along the giant arm wrapped around him.
“Good morning,” Silas grumbled in Sam’s ear.
God, his deep morning voice should be illegal. He could convince Sam to join a cult with that voice.
Or go running.
Smiling to himself, Sam yawned. “Morning, you Giant Oaf. I thought I told you not to squish me while we slept.”
Silas chuckled and rolled so he was fully on top of Sam, bracing his weight on his knees and elbows. “Don’t even try and pretend you’re not basking in it, love. You can’t lie when you’re asleep; you’ve wiggled back underneath me three times already this morning.”
Sam wrapped his arms around Silas’ neck. “And don’t you pretend like you didn’t love every minute of it either,” Sam said, lifting his chin.
Silas’ grin was all teeth and trouble. “I won’t.”
Just as Sam was gauging whether or not he was too sore for a repeat of last night, because really, that knot was not for the faint of heart, Silas rolled off him. “Come on, love. We need to get the fire and breakfast going or I’ll start taking bites out of you. Again, ” he finished with a smug half-smile.
Sam sighed. “Shower first?”
Silas’ eyes flicked up and down Sam’s naked body, predatory. “Alright. It’s time you pay for all that teasing you’ve done, anyway.”
Sam pushed Silas back down, straddling him.
Slinking down his body, nuzzling at every place he’d discovered that made Silas quake in pleasure, Sam finally peered back up at him just as his mouth hovered over his cock, filling in where it lay between his legs.
“And it’s time you invest in some real goddamn shampoo and conditioner,” Sam purred, before he bit at Silas’ thigh and bolted for the bathroom, his shrieking laughter ringing out as Silas sprung up and chased behind, shockingly light on his feet for a man of his size.
Sam happily spent most of their shower on his knees, and they’d just finished rinsing the soap from each other’s skin when the hot water ran cold.
The snow stopped falling midway through making breakfast.
Together, they fumbled their way through chocolate chip pancakes— obviously —scrambled eggs, and bacon. Sam wouldn’t ever stop being amazed by how much food Silas consumed.
“I bet your parents’ grocery bill was cut in half when you left for the military,” Sam quipped while he flipped his third pancake. He’d messed up the first two but was finally getting the hang of it now.
“Probably more,” Silas answered, chewing on a piece of bacon. “Finn was living with us almost full-time by that point. Mom and Dad used to joke they’d come home and find us eating the firewood if they weren’t careful.”
Sam smiled. “They are lovely people. I’m glad Finn had somewhere good to be. From what Jaime’s mentioned, his mom sounds like a total bitch.”
Silas rumbled in agreement, pulling the second tray of cooked bacon from the oven. “She can rot in hell for all I care.”
They were comfortably quiet for a few minutes while Sam finished making the rest of the pancakes and Silas scrambled their eggs. Elbow to elbow at the stove, Sam savored how wonderful it felt to do something mundane with Silas, and not be afraid it was all about to end.
As they sat down at the small kitchen table, plates piled high, Silas asked, “What was your mom like?”
Sam looked up, surprised by the question. Several of his usual deflections were on the tip of his tongue.
I don’t really remember.
She was nice.
Of course, she loved us but those last few months were hard.
“She was a lot like your mom,” he answered instead, unable to look away from Silas’ warm gaze. “The way they smile, maybe? It caught me off guard when we first got to your house. I’d forgotten the way she’d smile at Jaime and me, and when I met your mom…” he nodded. “She looks at you the way our mom looked at us.”
A wave of warm comfort seeped through Sam, and he knew deep in his bones it came from Silas. From their bond; new, but strong. “I feel that,” he whispered.
Silas reached across the table, taking his hand. “Is that alright?”
Sam nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”
Silas released him and picked up his fork, tucking into his eggs. “Tell me more about her.”
Buoyed by Silas’ steady encouragement, Sam found words and memories and stories he’d long since buried. Between bites of pancakes that were good, but not as good as Finn’s, Sam yapped away about all the things he remembered of her.
How she’d loved to take them both on errands, chatting with them like they were little adults while they sat in the grocery cart and walked alongside her, how she’d involve them in picking out all the ingredients they’d need to make chocolate chip cookies or brownies or whatever other sweet treat she’d planned for the week.
Sam talked about watching movies with her, and how she’d use a different voice for each character when she read to them before bed, inspiring Sam to make up his own voices and characters and skits.
Sam felt worn out after he finished, in a relaxed, pleasant way. He’d not realized how much he’d needed to talk about his mom with someone. Being so open with Silas felt like absolution.
“Thank you for letting me talk about her,” Sam said a little while later, while they loaded the dishwasher after breakfast.
Silas smiled. “She deserves to be remembered.”
“I wish you could’ve met her. She would’ve loved you; you would’ve made her laugh.”
A bittersweet feeling spread through Sam at the image of introducing Silas to her. What would she have made of both her sons ending up with suspiciously large and hunky men?
He decided she would’ve adored it.
A peculiar look came over Silas’ face, and he paused what he was doing to turn toward Sam. “You probably don’t remember… It was so long ago, but I think I have met her.”
Sam cocked his head, confused. “What?”
Silas smiled at him; the smile that had felt familiar all those months ago, even though they’d only just met. “It was the same day my parents left the pack. We’d driven to Anchorage that morning so Dad could make plans for us to leave. Mom stayed at the library with me. I don’t remember very much at all, just that it was a fun day in the big human city. When we went inside, I smelled you.”
Sam was lost. “You smelled me? How old were we? How did you know it was me?”
Silas shook his head. “I was six when my parents left the pack. So you were five, maybe? I think I caught your scent first but wasn’t sure what it was, and then I found you. I remember we read books together. You said you wanted to learn to fly. But then my dad came back—he’d been followed by someone from the pack—and your mom came over, and you all left.”
Sam blinked several times, rapidly. “I don’t remember that.”
Silas took his hand. “I didn’t remember either—not until I met you again. I think your scent triggered the memory, and your voice.”
Sam cocked his head again. “You said you smelled me in the library? Like, did I stink?”
Silas blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, no.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve always smelled like, um, marshmallows. Toasted marshmallows and fire. When we met at my house that first time, well second time, I knew I’d met you before, and I knew who you were to me. I knew you were my mate,” he finished quietly.
Sam thought back on that first time he met Silas; the first time he remembered meeting Silas. He was so caught up in his fear and shame, and yet… “Your smile was familiar,” he whispered.
Silas squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry I kept it from you and didn’t tell you sooner.”
Sam shook his head. “I understand, and I’ll also understand if you’re upset over what I kept from you until last night.”
“Sammy—”
“No, please,” Sam cut in gently. He swallowed and tried to send his own comforting assurance down the bond the way Silas had done for him. “I know everything we shared last night was real, but I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you. I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you.”
Sam looked away, unable to make eye contact as he explained. “At first, I couldn’t imagine sharing my deepest regret, the worst thing I’ve ever done, with anyone. And then I didn’t want to share it with you because I couldn’t bear the thought of your rejection. And then I knew I had to share it with you, even if it meant losing you, because I love you too much to have kept it from you any longer.”
Silas listened, patiently waiting while Sam finished.
Then he tugged on his hand, pulling him close. “I’m glad you told me. I’m not upset at you for waiting, as much as I wish…” Silas cupped Sam’s shoulders. “I wish you’d never had to bear all of that on your own. I wish Derek had been a better man.”
Silas' eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth together, nostrils flaring. “And I want to find him and make him regret what he did to you. I want to make him regret it very much.”
Sam shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to him since the day Jaime and Finn were attacked at the safe house. I blocked him. I don’t want to give him space in my life ever again, Silas. I don’t want him to take up space in yours, either. In ours. Especially not now that we’re here, together.”
Silas’ eyes darted back and forth between his before he slowly nodded. “I’ll try.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow.
“I won’t intentionally seek him out,” Silas amended. “But if I happen to run into him at the grocery store…” he rumbled.
Sam stood on his tiptoes and pecked the underside of his jaw.
Silas softened. “I also wish you hadn’t felt trapped and out of options when Jaime was in danger, and I do wish you hadn’t kept the truth about my uncle all to yourself. Like you said, though,” a small smile appeared on Silas’ lips, “I don’t regret that we met.”
The purr Sam loved so much rumbled to life in Silas’ chest, and he was wrapped in a fierce hug.
Speaking into Sam’s hair, Silas said, “I promise, you will not shoulder your burdens alone again. We have each other now. You’re my mate; that doesn’t just mean the sex is fantastic.”
Sam rolled his eyes and made to step away, batting at Silas’ chest. “I don’t recall saying it was fantastic, ” he sniffed.
Silas’ grin was feral. “That’s because you were too busy screaming on my knot, brat.”
Sam tried to scowl, but melted into Silas’ stolen kiss instead.
Coming up for air, Silas knocked their foreheads together. “You are never alone with your troubles, Sammy, and I am never alone with mine. Not anymore.”
Sam had to blink away his tears. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes you do, and I’ll remind you often.”
“I love you,” Sam whispered, gripping tight to Silas’ shoulders.
Silas’ purr grew louder. “Also, you’re not giving my uncle a dime of the money you’ve worked hard for.”
“I would rather give him every bit of it over owing him, Silas.”
Silas’ face hardened. “You owe him nothing. You’re mine. You’re ours. Jaime and Finn and Sheppard’s, too. You’re pack. We’ll protect you, just as much as you’ve protected us.”
Something slithering beneath Sam’s skin told him he still didn’t deserve that.
Turning to continue wiping down the counters, Sam said, “I wrote a letter for Jaime, too. I’d like to go over there sometime today to talk with him if the roads aren’t too bad. It’s time.”
“Hey,” Silas said, knocking their shoulders together. “Jaime loves you. I love you. You’ve never had to earn that. He may be upset, but you’ll work through it together.”
Sam hoped he was right.
A few hours later, Silas and Sam stood on Jaime and Finn’s front porch, stomping the snow from their boots while Silas pounded on the door.
Sam was jittery with nerves, anxiously patting his pocket for Jaime’s note.
His fears for this conversation were different after opening up to Silas. He was boosted by his understanding and love, but Sam’s wrongs toward Jaime went deeper; his lies were more numerous.
Finn answered, throwing open the door and looking slightly annoyed. “What could possibly be so important you went out in this—oh.”
The annoyance turned to stunned silence, and then a slow grin split his face. “Well goddamn finally. Fucking hell, do you know how hard it was to keep my nose to myself around you two? Come here.”
Sam thought Finn was talking to Silas, but instead, he stepped up and wrapped Sam in a big bear hug. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you two,” he said, setting Sam back down.
“Thank you,” Sam said when he could breathe again, and was sure he wouldn’t get teary in front of Finn.
Once was quite enough.
Finn winked at him, like he could tell Sam was trying not to be emotional, then pulled Silas into an embrace.
Sam stepped inside to give them a moment.
Jaime came down the stairs just as Sam finished taking off his boots. “Hey,” he said, yawning.
It was well after noon, had Jaime just gotten up? Maybe he was getting sick?
“You good?” Sam asked.
For some reason, Jaime blushed. “Uh, yeah, all good. Just tired from Halloween yesterday. Big day, you know.”
Sam eyed him for a moment, taking off his coat. “If you’re not feeling well, we can come back?—”
“HOLY SHIT!” Jaime exclaimed. “I mean, oh my God.”
Sam dropped his coat, looking around. “What? What’s wrong?”
Then, Jaime was hugging him. “I’m so happy for you!”
Sam relaxed into the hug. “Um, thank you? How did you know?”
Jaime pulled back and waved Sam into the living room. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “I can see the, uh, you know,” Jaime gestured to Sam’s neck, “bite.”
Sam slapped his hand over the still-tender area. It hadn’t bled or bruised the way a normal wound from an animal would’ve, but the mark was easily identifiable. He’d caught Silas smugly staring at it all morning.
Sam’s gaze fell to the similar scar on Jaime’s neck. Fucking hell, he did not want to swap matching tattoo stories. “Uh, yeah. Can we never talk about that part?”
Jaime nodded emphatically. “Deal.”
Sam sighed, sitting on the sofa. “Good. But, yeah. Silas and I are… together. Mates?”
Sometimes he still thought someone would cart him away for saying this shit out loud.
Jaime beamed. “I’m so glad.”
Just then, Finn popped his head in through the front door, dropping an armful of clothes and two cell phones. “We’re going for a run, be back in a bit.”
“Sounds good,” they called together.
Sam chuckled when he saw the two giant wolves tear into the woods together through the window.
“So, why did it take you two so long to sort things out?” Jaime asked. “I mean I don’t want details but like, since you’re mates, how did you manage to stay away so long?”
Sam patted at the note in his pocket. “Well, that’s partly what I’m here to talk to you about.”
Jaime cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”
He wouldn’t find a better opening than this.
Pulling the folded-up paper from his jean pocket he handed it to Jaime with shaking hands, the same way he’d done with Silas last night.
It felt like he was ripping his heart out of his chest and handing it over instead, all over again. “Yeah. There are things I kept from him, and you. Things I lied about. I’ve explained it all in there so that I know I’ve remembered everything.”
Jaime’s brow knit, and he flipped open the note and began to read.
Last night, Silas had anchored Sam during this part, holding him close, but now, watching Jaime read the letter, he felt like he’d fly apart. He wiped his palms along the tops of his thighs, staring at the floor.
Sam didn’t want to see the moment Jaime’s expression changed from confusion to anger.
This letter was shorter, having much the same information as Silas’ without all the love declarations. It probably took Jaime only a minute or two to read, but it felt like a lifetime.
When he was done, he set the letter on the arm of the chair. “Oh, Sam…”
Sam was still looking at the ground. Thickly, he said, “I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please understand Jaime, it’s not that I didn’t want to be there for you, or that you were a burden, or that I resented you, I just…” he glanced up and saw tears in Jaime’s eyes. “You were so broken, and I couldn’t make it better. I wasn’t enough, and I didn’t know how to handle that. You needed help. I needed help. I failed you. I’m sorry.”
Sam was fully crying now. “And then I pushed you away after because… because how could I comfort you, how could I tell you it would all be alright when it could have all gone wrong because of me? When it did all go wrong because of me? Even afterward, at the safe house… I still couldn’t admit it. I was so ashamed. And I couldn’t drag you into my issues with Cain, not when you’d just crawled out of the darkness with Finn. You were happy for the first time in so long. I couldn’t do it?—”
For the second time that day, Sam’s words were cut short by Jaime throwing his arms around his shoulders. “Oh, Sammy. It’s ok. It’s ok.”
Sam wrapped his arms tight around Jaime in return and held on, sobbing. They were the same deep, chest-wrenching sobs he’d let out the day Derek had published Jaime’s name, except this time they felt like the final purge before forgiveness.
Scraping the rot out of a wound so it could finally heal.
“I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I fucked up, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Sam repeated over and over.
Jaime was crying too. “I’m sorry, too. I was so caught up in my own shit, I didn’t see something was wrong with you, too. I should’ve known…”
Sam pulled back, shaking his head. “No. It’s not your fault, Jaime. Don’t do that.”
Jaime wiped at his tears with a tissue and passed the box to Sam. “I forgive you. I don’t remember much from those early days after it happened, except for you. I remember you were there. I remember you swept into that interrogation room and pulled me out like fucking Batman. I know that couldn’t have been easy. You’re always so strong. You’re the strongest person I know. But we all need help sometimes, even you.”
Sam shook his head, laughing. “I’m not strong at all. I just hide it.”
Jaime peered at him. “That’s absolutely not true. I want to give you the contact info for the agency where I found my therapist. I really think you should reach out. You don’t have to share everything with everyone, but you need to be able to talk to some people.”
He nodded. “I know. Silas suggested the same.”
Jaime smiled. “You told him all this?”
Sam nodded. “Last night, after you left. I thought he’d ask me to leave after I shared everything. I thought you might, too,” he finished softly.
Jaime pushed at Sam’s shoulder and winced like the move had hurt him. “I love you. You’re my brother. You’re my best friend. That’s what I’ve missed most, Sammy. I’m a big boy. All grown up. I’ve never really thanked you for everything you gave up to try and give me a normal childhood, mostly because I don’t know how to do that while also telling you that you shouldn’t have had to. But I don’t need you to be my parent anymore. I don’t need you to protect me. I just want my friend.”
Sam wiped his eyes, grumbling, “I’m your big brother. I’ll always protect you.”
Jaime smiled. “And I’m your brother. I’ll protect you, too . And I know Silas will.”
Sam softened more at that. “He does,” he whispered.
“He’s good to you?” Jaime asked quietly.
Sam nodded, feeling the blush creep up the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
Jaime smirked. “Good. How did he take it when you told him all of this?”
The blush spread further into Sam’s cheeks. “He told me he loves me and asked me to stay. And then he asked me to be his mate.”
Jaime’s smirk turned into a wicked grin. “And then you drank a cup of hot tea together before falling asleep watching Wheel of Fortune?”
Sam shot him a warning glare. “We said we wouldn’t talk about that part.”
Jaime cackled, tipping back onto the sofa. His gleeful smile settled into a contented happiness that made Sam choke up a little to see. “It didn’t all go wrong, you know.”
“Hmm?”
Jaime turned to him. “What you said about it all going wrong because of you. It really didn’t. I’ve told Finn—if I had to, I would do it all again to be here, with him. With them. Wouldn’t you?”
Sam blinked and smiled. “I’ve never believed in coincidences… and yes,” he nodded, “I would.”
They sunk back into Jaime’s giant sofa together, side by side, sharing a moment of easy quiet. “Can I ask you something?” Sam whispered.
Jaime turned his head where it rested on the cushion. “Of course.”
“Do you remember Mom?”
A few heartbeats passed. “I remember her laugh,” Jaime said quietly. “You have it, you know.”
Sam whipped his head toward him. “I laugh like her?”
Jaime nodded. “Sometimes I’m glad I remember less from when it all happened, when she got sick, and when dad checked out. I know that’s selfish, but it’s easier to just remember the good. Walking to the bus together every day, going on adventures to the gas station for snacks. Those are the memories I wanted to keep, I think. And her laugh—I hear it every time you do. Which I hope will be more often, now.”
Sam was crying again.
Fucking hell, it was like he’d spent the last twelve hours weeping out years of pent-up emotions. “Thank you for telling me that.”
Jaime smiled. “Come on. Let’s make hot chocolate before they get back.”
Sam scooted forward to heave himself out of the giant couch. It pained him to admit it, but Finn was right—the thing was a monster.
Jaime winced as he stood, and Sam saw a scratch on his arm peeking out of his long sleeve. “Are you alright? Did something happen?” Sam asked, pointing toward the wound.
It was Jaime’s turn to blush, and he tugged on his sleeve. “I’m fine. Very, very fine. Finn and I, uh, took a walk last night in the woods and I tripped, that’s all.”
Sam raised a brow, following him into the kitchen. “You took a walk? Last night after you left? In the dark?”
“Mhmm.”
“Before or after it started dumping snow?” Sam asked flatly.
“It wasn’t a long walk,” Jaime said, shoving his face so far into a cupboard he’d need spelunking gear to climb out.
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Jaime, you can tell me if Finn hurt you. I’m not afraid to run him over with my car.”
“Ouch. I feel like you skipped your way to that solution with a little too much pep in your step, brother of mine,” Finn said from the kitchen doorway.
Sam jumped and quickly turned to see Finn holding back a smug grin and Silas standing behind him, beaming, ruffling the snow out of his hair before pulling it back. “ God, make some noise when you walk,” Sam grouched, glaring at Finn.
“No one’s hitting anyone with their car,” Jaime said with an exasperated sigh. “Finn didn’t hurt me. I promise. Not… well. Finn has never done anything I didn’t enthusiastically want him to do.”
Sam narrowed his eyes further at Finn. “So you did give him those scratches?”
“Love, I don’t think you want to pull on that thread,” Silas said.
“I would never hurt Jaime,” Finn said, smirking and walking over to help Jaime with the hot chocolate. “And I’m not upset you threatened to run me over. I’m very happy Jaime has a brother who would do that for him.”
“Then what happened?” Sam asked.
Silas wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll fill you in later if you really want to know.”
“How do you know what they’re talking about?” Sam accused.
Silas snorted. “I found Jaime’s Halloween costume in the woods out on our run just now.”
Jaime palmed his face and elbowed Finn.
Sam stared, confused, for one heartbeat longer before turning bright red. “You’re right. I don’t want to know. The car thing still stands, though,” he said, pointing a finger at Finn.
Finn only grinned. “I’m so glad we’re all one big happy family.”