"I hate to ask this of you, Sammy, but…"
"Your nephew needs a Guide."
"Well, I mean… just look at him."
Sam looked. The boy in question was a scowling, greasy haired hot mess. His dark hair trailed in a braid down his back. Sam caught a glimpse of blue before the alpha turned in on himself. The omega tilted his head down, trying to catch the alpha's eye. Not the brightest idea, but Sam was no coward. The blue eyed boy kept staring at the floor.
He did not look at Sam, nor acknowledge his presence. Of course, he'd taken cursory scenting measures as soon as they were introduced, and it was likely decided he didn't like what he sensed. That was fine. Even enemies at war had been known to use each other to anchor. Besides, they would only be training partners. Together, or alone as a pair, but where the others could watch over.
The most concerning thing, Sam decided, were the alpha's emotions, or lack thereof. They were tamped down beneath the skin, deep down. Beneath the sour twist of his mouth, his emotions roiled. Like a strong undertow beneath a river's calm surface. Sam couldn't reach down far enough to see it, and wouldn't dare even if he could.
Either way, that locking away of emotions was not normal in a healthy person. Sam could tell the boy had a huge amount of self control, but he didn't like it. The dam would crack. In Sam's experience it would crack easily, and he would be the first to get hit. Though that had never happened to anyone under Logan Howlett's watch.
Coach Howlett scratched the back of his head rather sheepishly. Despite being a Beta, he knew what he was asking. His own partner Jean used to Guide for their alpha, Scott, back before they all got together. It didn't always end in a bonding situation like that. If it had, Sam would've walked out the moment it was suggested.
"So, you remember how we talked about getting you some work experience?"
"As a Guide? Not really. I'm not that-"
"Strong, yeah. So they say."
And Sam didn't know what to make of that. Coach elbowed his uncooperative nephew. It was more of a soft nudge, but it still made him rear back a little. The alpha chose that moment to glare at Sam, wielding the white blue glow of his eyes like daggers.
The boy spat. "Níl cúnamh de dhíth orm ó Oma dúr."
And that, Sam did understand. His chest thrummed a little, a growl bubbling from deep within. He ignored the glances shot their way, and the muddle of emotions from his protective gym mates.
Sam grinned sharply, "Hey, kid. Ní Omega amháin mé."
The alpha raised an eyebrow, but like the asshole he was, didn't even try to take it back.
Fucking Alphas. Sam took that moment to step back mentally. To calm himself. He sighed, cursing his awful -awesome- Oma tendencies of Kumbaya forgiveness. Brown eyes met blue as he placed his hand out for a handshake.
"I can help."
Then it was the alpha's turn to smile, small though it was. "No. You can't."
But he took his hand anyway. He met Sam with his flesh hand, naturally, the one he wasn't so self conscious of. Sam wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. Their eyes met in challenge, and the alpha flexed a little too hard, making Sam gasp and his bones damn near click.
He tore his hand away. "Ouch. Asshole."
"By the gods, Jamie." Coach threw his hands up. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
Sam's body chose that moment to show its displeasure by making him hiss. Like a fucking cat. He hated when that happened, since people tended to think omegas hissing was cute. It always put Sam in a foul mood, slipping up like that.
"Jamie", the asshole in question, didn't even smirk in response. His face didn't move at all. He had sheathed himself within his skin. He was still in the room, Sam could tell, but he acted like he wasn't. Misty and Colleen drifted over together, placing their bodies between Sam and the alpha. They radiated calm, and he drew it in through their hands in his.
Later on, when Jamie was long gone and Coach had already broken open the bottle of Jack from his desk drawer, the nice Single Barrel shit that was probably better off as a special occasions gift for Scott, like it was intended. Sam put the broom away and walked over to where his coach sat. Sam leaned on the office doorframe as the coach dramatically sat back in his chair staring at the ceiling, throat bared to the world as though he was asking for someone to come through and set their claws to it.
"Hey, Coach?"
"mmmrrrhg…" was the only reply.
That earned the man a laugh. A big one. Of the kind that had rarely been seen since Sam's brother had died.
He repeated, louder this time. "Hey, Coach."
"What is it, Sam?" The man, known as Wolverine to some and 'Shorty' to others - thanks for that one, Gid - finally chose to look up.
"I'll do it."
"Huh?" The beta blinked, eyes wide. "No shit…"
"Yeah, uh." Sam felt himself flush. He had no gods damned idea why he was embarrassed. "I can take the… Jamie. What- whoever he is."
"Eloquent as usual, bub."
"Man, I'm just tryna help."
"I know." Coach Howlett slowly rose out of his self defeated position, clearly trying not to get his hopes up, but his light brown eyes shone gold with it.
"I'll, uh, get Jean to come in next week, show you the ropes. And we'll have to ask permission from whoever. And there are forms, too, so..."
Coach glanced down at his messy ass desk. He didn't fiddle with the papers lying all over it, but he managed to sniff primly.
"It's gonna take some time."
"Yeah, I figured."
They shared a look. Coach beamed a little in his own quiet, tough guy way, waiting for Sam to call his own bluff. He didn't.
"There'll be rules. Don't worry, we'll take care of you."
"I know, Coach."
Gods knew some people wouldn't. Sam was lucky he even got to train outside his own neighborhood, even in this day and age. He left the coach to close up, scooping his bag up from where it sat and headed back home to help Sarah with her Biology homework. He dropped any thoughts about the silly alpha with blue eyes and unwashed hair. He heard and felt and sensed very little from anyone, as he brushed through the crowds on the street. Though it was highly unusual, he just sang quietly to himself, unnoticing.