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Things didn’t just go back to normal after the Ring station.
Holden still had nightmares about the things he saw in that place. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember most of them; the fear lingered, a deep, instinctual terror that screamed at him to run, to hide, to scratch and claw and bite until the nameless horrors haunting his dreams left him be. He’d wake up shaking and sweating, heart racing and adrenaline crackling through his veins, overcome by the urge to flee from something he couldn’t remember the face of. He told himself that it would pass, that he just needed to wait it out. But when he woke up one morning to Naomi’s pained yelp, his panicked thrashing having earned her an elbow to the face, that plan promptly went out the window.
Which was how they ended up in the galley, Holden sitting at the table with his face in his hands, guilt pouring off him in waves. When Amos arrived and saw the bruise on Naomi’s jaw, his scent flared with rage. He got a handle on it quickly, though, and the scent faded as rapidly as it had appeared.
“The fuck happened to you?” he asked, deceptively casual. Alex walked in and hissed sympathetically.
“It’s nothing,” Naomi said. “Holden woke up swinging.”
“I’m sorry,” Holden groaned, his scent dripping with remorse.
“I know, baby. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”
Holden’s whine made it clear he didn’t agree.
“Who’s whining, what’s wrong?” Bobbie said, appearing from the hall. She caught sight of Naomi’s bruise and winced. “Ouch. What did I miss?”
“Holden’s nightmares aren’t getting any better,” Naomi said. “And since waiting it out clearly isn’t working, I think it’s time for a new idea.”
Holden thunked his head against the table. He felt like an absolute fucking idiot.
“Wanna try sleeping with us in the den for a while?” Alex suggested. “Maybe we just need to convince your subconscious that you’re safe. And hey, if you wake up swinging again, we’ve got two big alphas who can take care of it.” Bobbie snorted, and Amos rolled his eyes.
Holden paused, lifting his head. “That… that could work. Yeah, let’s give it a shot.”
“Alright,” said Amos, reaching for the coffee pot. “Slumber party tonight, then. Who wants coffee?”
Breakfast proceeded more or less as usual, apart from Holden constantly getting up to fetch things for Naomi, the guilt never leaving his eyes. Later, after the others had left, Amos caught him by the arm.
“You know I’ll kill you if you ever hurt her on purpose, right?” he said, casual as stating the weather.
Holden found the sentiment oddly reassuring. “You’d better.”
The corner of Amos’s mouth twitched upward, and he clapped Holden on the shoulder, leaving without another word.
~ ~ ~
It was the early hours of the morning when Holden thrashed himself awake, a sound somewhere between a yelp and a growl ripping out of his throat. Amos shot bolt upright, and Naomi startled awake as Holden scrambled out of her arms. Bobbie swore and pulled Alex out of the way before he could get kicked.
“Jim?” Naomi asked, reaching out. Holden flinched back and snarled. He was trembling, pupils narrowed to pinpricks, pressed back against the edge of the nest with his hackles raised. His eyes flicked between the four of them and his scent flared with panic, an involuntary whine slipping out between his growls. He scrambled backwards out of the nest, clumsy and uncoordinated.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Amos said, climbing out after him. Holden bolted for the door; Amos caught him around the middle and lifted him off his feet. Holden shrieked and snarled as Amos hauled him back into the nest, flailing and clawing. Amos grabbed one of Holden’s wrists and pinned it over his chest, then did the same with the other, wrapping him into a tight bear hug. Holden’s teeth snapped far too close to his face; Amos swore and shifted both wrists to one hand, clamping the other over Holden’s mouth. Holden struggled furiously, but he was pressed tight against Amos’s chest with nowhere left to go. He let out a muffled whine, the fear in his scent spiking.
“It’s okay,” Amos murmured. “You’re okay. It’s just me.”
Holden growled and kicked. Amos hooked his leg over Holden’s to still him.
“Alright,” Alex said. “We’ve got two alphas in the room. Who’s gonna scruff him?”
“Got my hands full over here,” Amos grunted as Holden gave a particularly vicious thrash. “Babs?”
“Oh, hell no,” Bobbie said, scooting back and dragging Alex with her.
Naomi shot her an odd look. “That’s… a stronger reaction than I was expecting. Is there something we should know?”
“I’ve got him pretty good,” Amos said. “He ain’t gonna bite you again.”
“It’s not that,” Bobbie said, though her eyes did flick down to her bandaged hand. “He’s asked me to scruff him once, and that was only because he was terrified and half-feral. I’m not doing it again without his permission.”
“This is a special circumstance,” Alex said. “He’ll understand.” Bobbie made a vague sound of distress and curled tighter around him. “Gunny, this is what it’s for.”
Bobbie shook her head, something oddly vulnerable in her eyes. “No. I won’t do it.” She met eyes with Amos. “What you and him have, I don’t have that. I haven’t earned that kind of trust. I can’t just grab him like that while he’s half out of his mind.”
Amos sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.” He lifted the hand wrapped around Holden’s wrists, only to immediately have to clamp his arm back down as Holden thrashed. “You gotta hold him, though. I only got two hands.”
Bobbie’s eyes flicked between him and Holden, who struggled with renewed vigor.
“Bobbie, please,” Naomi said. “He’s terrified.” Holden whined and squirmed in Amos’s arms.
Finally, Bobbie cursed under her breath and let go of Alex, shuffling forward. She wrapped her hands gently around Holden’s wrists, like she was afraid she’d break him; he stared at her like a deer looking up into the barrel of a rifle, the scent of fear thickening.
“Tighter than that,” Amos said. “He’s gonna fight, and I don’t wanna get punched in the face.”
Bobbie tightened her grip reluctantly, flinching when Holden whimpered. Amos held on a moment longer.
“Do not let go,” he said, and moved.
The moment there was no longer an arm across his chest holding him down, Holden exploded into motion, thrashing and kicking out. Bobbie caught a foot to the ribs but held on. Amos sacrificed his grip on Holden’s jaw to fold him into an awkward sort of sideways headlock, his arm hooked under Holden’s chin and his hand on the top of his head, pressing the side of his face into his shoulder. Holden snarled and snapped his teeth at nothing. Amos grabbed him by the scruff and squeezed hard.
Holden’s yelp split the air, sharp and loud. He didn’t go limp all at once; the tension slowly shuddered out of him, hesitant and faltering, fear and adrenaline warring with the instincts telling him pack-safe-submit. His eyes darted around the room like he was looking for something, a threat or an escape. His kicks slowed, feet tangling in the blankets. Amos held him through it, grip gentling, murmuring reassurances into his hair as his struggles grew weaker and his eyelids fluttered, the submission beginning to pull him under. When Holden finally went lax in his arms, the whole room breathed a sigh of relief. For a long moment, no one spoke, as if a single word would break the spell.
“Okay,” Amos said finally. “Alright. I think we’re good.”
Bobbie dropped Holden’s wrists like she’d been burned and immediately reached for Alex. Amos gathered up Holden’s limp form and all but poured him into Naomi’s lap. He gave a weak whine and nosed into her side; she hushed him and ran her fingers through his hair. Amos rubbed a firm hand up and down his side, and Holden shivered, relaxing across their laps.
The scent of distress had Amos’s hackles rising, but it wasn’t coming from Holden. Bobbie was shaking, clinging to Alex so tightly it was a wonder he could still breathe, her eyes screwed shut and her face buried in his hair.
“It’s okay,” Alex murmured, smoothing his hands up and down her back. “It’s alright. You did good.”
Bobbie whined and clutched him closer. Amos didn’t think he’d ever heard that sound from her before. Alex caught his eye, and the look on his face said he hadn’t either.
“Babs,” Amos said. No response. “Bobbie.”
Bobbie blinked one eye open and stared at him like a cornered animal, her pupils narrowed to pinpricks.
“Look at him,” Amos said. Bobbie flinched and squeezed her eyes shut, turning away into Alex’s hair. “Bobbie. Look at him.”
Alex nudged her encouragingly. Slowly, Bobbie opened her eyes. Her nervous gaze flicked to Holden, sprawled comfortably over Amos and Naomi. The fear in his scent wasn’t all the way gone, but it was leagues better than it had been, a mild skittishness instead of pure terror. He was becoming more relaxed by the minute, melting into Naomi’s touch. Bobbie’s shoulders loosened the tiniest bit.
“He’s right here,” Amos said. “He’s fine. You did the right thing.” Bobbie stared at him like she didn’t know what to do with this information coming from him. Amos didn’t really know either, but he followed his gut and kept talking. “And when he wakes up, he’s probably going to thank you, because that’s the kind of insane bastard he is.”
Alex chuckled in agreement. Bobbie glanced down at him, then at Holden, then at Amos. Amos was running out of ideas, so he offered her his wrist to scent. He wasn’t sure he’d ever done it before. To his surprise, Bobbie bypassed it completely and curled up under his arm. Alex ended up crunched awkwardly between her and Holden, but he didn’t complain, wriggling around till he was comfortable and patting Holden’s leg. He shot Amos an appreciative look. Amos didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. He just laid back and rested his arm over Bobbie’s side, trying to identify the strange swooping feeling in his chest.
“Thanks,” Bobbie mumbled.
“Don’t mention it,” Amos said, and meant it. He settled into the nest and closed his eyes, more than ready to go back to sleep.
Holden began to purr.