Sam paced back and forth in the living room, his phone pressed up against his ear while it rang and rang. And for the third time, it went to voicemail.
“Hi, this is Oliver. I’m not available right now. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!”
There was a beep, and Sam stopped pacing and closed his eyes. He felt his sister’s hand settle supportively on his shoulder.
“H-hey, Oll, um, I just—I’ve tried calling three times now, and—and call me back if—if you get this, okay? I love you. I hope you’re—I hope everything is okay.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up, then let out a shuddering breath as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sure he’s fine, Sam.” Jaz squeezed Sam’s shoulder lightly. “Come on. Sit down here, and I’ll get you some tea.”
“No, I-I should—I should call Katherine. She...” Sam turned his head slightly to look at his sister and then across the room to where Barry stood in the entryway to the kitchen. And he shook his head, willing them both to understand. But they couldn’t really understand because they didn’t know the whole story. And it wasn’t Sam’s story to tell.
His chest hurt, a sharp pain accompanying the already heavy ache that he’d been feeling since earlier that week. He glanced at his phone again, wishing it would ring or... something, but it remained stubbornly silent.
“Sam, kiddo, what’s really going on?” Barry’s voice was closer now, and when Sam looked up, his uncle stood just a couple of feet away, his kind eyes sympathetic.
“I can’t—it’s... it’s personal,” Sam said quietly, blinking back tears as he looked from his uncle to his sister and back. “But I-I have to get a hold of his mom because he could be...”Spiraling. Panicking. Lost and terrified and alone.Sam reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, the minor headache he’d been nursing since early that morning making itself known again.
Memories hit him. Exactly two years ago. October 12, 2021. A frantic call from his boyfriend. A blur of a drive across town. A sprint across campus. A trip to the hospital that had been traumatic in itself. Then the days, weeks, months following. The emotional conversation where Ollie had confessed everything to him, told him exactly what had happened that day. The flinches when he’d touched Ollie in an accidentally unwelcome way. The nightmares and flashbacks and panic attacks. The long hours talking—with Ollie and with his therapist and with Katherine.
All week, Sam had pushed the memories away, trying instead to focus on how he could best get everything all set up and settled for Barry and Jaz so he’d be ready for his trip home. Because, god, after nearly six weeks away, he was finally, finally able to start planning to go back to Seattle! Barry had been given the go ahead to drive again, and the doctors expected him to be able to return to work in another week and a half. Jaz had also gotten the week after next off work so she could stay with him to help him transition back to being fully independent.
But despite having that to look forward to, Thursday, October 12 had continued to approach, and with it, Sam’s anxiety had continued to grow. He’d tried to hide it, because he didn’t want anything he was feeling to affect Ollie. But Ollie hadn’t hidden a thing. He’d been open and honest with Sam all week long. Monday morning, he’d had a particularly bad nightmare, and when he’d woken up, he’d called Sam right away; they’d talked and talked. Then, Ollie had gotten dressed, and they’d gone on a walk together while still on the phone. Tuesday, Ollie had called him again, midday this time, when heshould have been at work. He explained that he’d been feeling a bit nauseous and had needed to head home. Again, they’d stayed on the phone talking for hours. Wednesday hadn’t been so terrible. But when they’d talked last—just last night—Ollie had been quiet and reserved. And Katherine had texted Sam really late and said she was headed over to stay the night with him. Just in case.
But that had been nearly eight hours ago. Neither Katherine nor Ollie had texted or called since. Given how frequently they usually talked, and knowing what day it was and what Ollie would have to be dealing with today, the silence was very, very concerning to him.
“Sam, you should sit,” Jaz said gently, and she took his arm and led him over to the couch. He felt lightheaded, and his heart was doing some weird things in his chest that really didn’t feel great. Stuttering and jumping all over.
He sat, and Jaz sat next to him, her hand resting lightly on his back now.
“Barry, you wanna make some tea? Try the chamomile. That’s probably best.”
“Sure, Jaz.”
There was movement around him. Jaz stood and moved away from the couch. Barry walked into the kitchen. Something else happened, Sam wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the room itself spinning.
He rubbed his eyes again and then looked at his phone. 11:23 a.m. It was still early in Seattle. Sort of. Ollie was almost always awake by now. He’d normally have been at work for almost a half hour already, although he’d mentioned he’d be taking the day off. And Katherine was always up before the sun.
He should call her.
He tapped on the phone several times to bring up her number and then hit the call button as Jaz sat back down next tohim, a cup of hot tea in her hand. She set it down on the coffee table in front of him and then wrapped one arm around him, and he leaned into her gratefully as the phone began to ring.
It rang twice before there was an answer.
“Hey, honey, I was just about to call you.” Katherine’s voice was quiet and gentle and just a little hesitant, as though she was trying... to not wake someone up. “Hold on just a minute.”
“O-okay,” Sam stammered, and he leaned against his sister more as he listened to muffled rustling through the phone.
It sounded like a door shut, and then he heard Katherine’s voice again, still hushed.
“JoJo, shush. Downstairs, now... Good girl. One more sec, Sam. Sorry.”
“It—it’s okay, Mrs. E.”
“This dog... She’s been wanting to stick to Ollie like glue lately. I’ll have to make her stay downstairs from now on, I think,” Katherine said, then she sighed. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna have to forgive me. I meant to text you earlier, but I finally fell asleep and...”
Sam’s stomach lurched. “It was... a bad night?”
