Boundaries

Chapter 25

For the next few weeks life is chaotic. The concert that they had decided upon to round out their series of 'bonding' activities for the packs was turning out to be a huge undertaking.

Performances had to be screened, ordered and rehearsed. The stage had to be renovated to accommodate newer, fresher equipment, lighting needed to be adjusted, food vendors hired and someone had even thought to make merchandise.

It's all a bit much, in Dylan's opinion, but that doesn't really matter. He is busy, and for that he couldn't be more grateful. Sam too, seems unusually pre-occupied, and has seemingly been going out of his way to be as far away from Ironhill as possible.

Dylan watches his best friend carefully, looking more haggard than he has for some time as he checks off another box of equipment backstage.

The concert is this evening and it is now all hands on deck to get everything ready in time.

Dylan stamps on the floor and Sam lifts his head at the vibration.

"How are you?" Dylan signs.

Sam's eyebrows lift gently, his clipboard lowering.

He nods, slowly at first, his head gaining speed as a small smile curls his lips upward.

"I'm good, excited for the concert." He signs.

Dylan smirks.

"For the concert, or to see Ironhill?" He signs slyly.

It's meant to be a joke, a little tease, nothing more. But Sam's face drops in an instant, his eyes darting towards his clipboard as he almost squirms in discomfort.

Beth hasn't come to the pack house in weeks now, and Dylan had been certain that this meant that Sam was finally putting himself first, choosing his mate. Had he been wrong?

Dylan frowns.

"Did something happen?" Dylan signs, moving closer.

Sam shakes his head, huffing as his eyes stare at something very far away.

"I'll be glad when it's all over. When they're gone." Sam signs finally.

Dylan knows what he means. But the ache in his chest disagrees vehemently and he's certain that Sam feels it too.

Dylan feels helpless, a feeling in him that's more common than he'd care to admit these days as he flounders on what to say, how to comfort his best friend.

The lack of decent sleep, the constant, unending ache of something you can't have has worn Dylan so thin he can barely think. He knows he's lost weight, he knows that his hands tremble like a man of twice his age and he knows that he can't do anything about it. He doesn't want the same fate for Sam. He won't allow it.

"Everything will be ok, Sam. I will make sure of it." Dylan signs.

Sam's wide glassy eyes take in the determination on his Alpha's face. The firm press of his lips, the dull, but nevertheless present, fire raging in his eyes. He wants to cry at the sight, but he's not like Dylan. He doesn't know how to cope with the separation any longer. His mind and heart are constantly at war and he feels torn in two, bleeding out every inch of energy in his body.

He needs this reassurance more than he knew, but oh how he wishes he could give it back to his best friend. How he wishes he could be more.

Sam nods, giving Dylan the best smile he can muster and it's enough.

Dylan delegates the rest of his tasks, finally at the end of his tether. He retreats to his office and picks up his phone. He dials the number, pressing it to his ear and he doesn't have to wait long for a response.