Sam dropped his hand to the bed, his phone still resting in his palm.

Me, too.

He read that response a hundred times. He started as his phone began to ring. Sy's name popped up across the display screen. Suddenly nervous, he stared at the screen as it continued to ring. Finally, he answered.

"Hi," Sam said quietly. He heard a quiet exhale and he frowned at how it seemed like something was wrong. "What's going on?"

"Are you busy around four?" The voice on the other end was shaking as it came across the line.

"No. Not at all." He frowned. "Sy, what's wrong?"

"Everything. Can we meet somewhere more private than the park?" he asked, still trying to gain his composure.

"You can come to my place if you want. Logan and Carrie are gone until Monday afternoon, so we won't have any interruptions."

He heard another broken sigh. "Okay. What's your address?"

He gave it to him before he tried again. "Sy..."

"Yeah?" There was no mistaking the pain in his voice.

"What's wrong?" He kept his voice soft, remembering how he had jumped backward when he had raised his voice the slightest bit. Even if not in anger.

"Four O'clock. Shelly will be home then and she can watch Sammy. Please? Can you give me that time?" There was something in his words that made Sam concede to his request. There was something woven so deeply within that small and whispered beseeching, it clawed at his soul.

"Alright. Will you let me know when you leave?"

"Yeah, I can do that. See you soon." He almost sounded disappointed to have to disconnect the call and Sam wondered what the hell was going on. Nothing seemed to be wrong while they were texting. So what happened between Sy's me, too response and his calling? He supposed he would find out soon.

By the time Sy knocked on the door Sam had since showered and eaten a quick bowl of oatmeal. The flavored kind. He liked mixing different flavors. He ate without tasting the amalgamation of different oatmeal packages this morning, eating on autopilot because he knew he needed to put something in his stomach and was able to distract himself long enough to get a bit of work done. He had no idea what was wrong, and he couldn't help the anxiety that had built up in his chest, which resulted in his skipping lunch.

As Sam reached for the knob to allow Sy inside the house, his heart raced, slamming so hard with nervousness he felt the vibrations in his toes. When he opened the door, he was shocked. Without a word he moved aside to let him in, his arm making a sweeping gesture as he did. When the door was safely shut behind him, Sam broke the silence.

 "Hey." He walked up standing in front of Sy, his hands coming to grip his shoulders. He was shaking. There were dried tears in his eyes. "Sy, what's the matter?"

Sy dropped his arms that had previously been wrapped around himself, extending his left for Sam to see. "Why? Why did you write this...of all things, why this?"

Sam looked at his arm. Looked at the faded words he had written there. Looked back at the heartbroken look on Sy's face. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said instead of answering.

"Please answer me, Sammy."

"Because it was our favorite song from our favorite movie. And being curled up with you watching it are some of my most treasured memories." The answer he gave him was delivered with such devastation that Sy looked away from him and stepped back from his reach. 

"I..." Sam stopped unsure of what to say or how to say it. There was so much pain between them. Their own pain. Their shared pain. Would they ever find their way through it? "I watch that movie or listen to that song whenever I feel the need to be close to you. Whenever missing you becomes unbearable." His voice was merely more than a whisper, his eyes focused on the floor somewhere between them. "We used to sing it to each other, remember?"

Sy smiled brokenly as their eyes met. "And I would kiss you with my arms around your neck and swear to you that I would never leave you. I remember." His voice was low, jagged, and full of so much raw pain that Sam wanted to just take him in his arms and never let him go.

Sam took a step forward, hesitating before he took three more, coming to stand directly in front of him. "I really wasn't trying to upset you." 

He tracked his thumb down Sy's cheek, trailing the evidence of vanished tears as he did so. His touch was soft and lovingly gentle. The simple contact communicated so much of what Sam wouldn't allow himself to yet say and Sy took a step closer, his head falling softly to Sam's chest. Sam hit a growth spurt just after he turned seventeen, shooting him to a height of 6’ 3, whereas Sy stood at 6' 1. Sam wrapped his arms around Sy's back, resting his chin atop his head. 

Sam stepped back and took Sy's hand. "Come on."

Sy walked behind him, his hand tightly gripping Sam's as if he might dematerialize in front of him if he let go. When they entered the room, Sam motioned for Sy to sit down on the bed. The room was sparse, Sy noticed as he looked around. 

There was the bed upon which he sat, a flat-screen mounted to the wall, one dresser, one nightstand, and a small desk with a laptop sitting closed in the center. A framed picture sitting on top of the nightstand captured his attention. His breath caught as it picked it up, as he stared into a memory frozen in time. He stared at his younger self and Sam, their arms wrapped around each other's back. They were laughing. He couldn't remember a time he'd laughed like that in recent years, where his eyes shined as bright as they were in this photograph.

 As Sam sat down next to him Sy said, "I remember when this was taken. We were so innocent then. We thought nothing could touch us." He sighed and set the picture down.

"Not many things did," Sam said, still looking at the picture.

"Sometimes I miss that kid I used to be." His voice was so full of pain and his eyes so haunted that it broke Sam's heart. "But I don't know that boy anymore." He said this with broken resignation as he set the frame back onto the table.

Sam reached for Sy's hand, watching his face closely. He was so much more skittish than he remembered. Even though they had since kissed several times since their initial run-in with each other, Sam was scared he would do something to make Sy back away. He picked up Sy's hand and kissed his palm so softly that Sy closed his eyes for a moment. It was when he heard Sam's breath catch that he opened them again. His eyes traveled down where Sam's gaze bore into his arm. 

"Oh god, Sy." He ran his thumb lightly down Sy's forearm, over the thin scar that was slightly raised.

Sy pulled his arm away tucking it against his opposite side, under his other arm. He looked away as shame filled him. He started, taking a sharp breath as Sam's palm cupped his cheek. Gently, he felt Sam bring his eyes to meet his own, the slightest pressure on his cheek making him turn his head. There were tears in his eyes as he stared at Sam and he tried hard to will them away. The pained and worried look that was clear in his blue eyes made Sy start to speak. 

"I almost succeeded," he whispered so desolately that his whole body began to shake. "I cut deep enough...but someone found me in time." He looked down at his arm, unable to stand that look in Sam's eyes any longer.

"When did you do this?" Sam asked, his voice thick. Sy looked up at him and noticed his eyes too were full of tears. "Why did you do this?"

"Because I was lost. Because I wanted to die. Because death was less painful than-" He stopped, his throat closing, unable to say those words. He went on. 

"I had been ripped from everything and everyone I loved. I was alone. Truly alone. And I was so fucking scared." He paused looking at his hands, which were gripping tightly to its opposite. Sy watched as a tear landed against his knuckles, falling down between the cracks of his fingers. "When I was in the hospital my parents came to see me...my mother cried...my father berated me on how much of a failure I was. ‘You can't even kill yourself properly’."

Sam made a sound in his throat that sounded like anger and disbelief. "He said that to you?"

Sy nodded and shook his head. "A nurse told him he had to leave when she heard him yelling at me. I asked my mom..."

"Sir!" The nurse bellowed, stepping between Sy and the hulking man next to his bed. When the man finally acknowledged her, she said, "You're going to have to go now. Please don't make me call security," she added when it looked like he was going to argue.

"Fine. I'm done with him anyway." He sneered at Sy before turning without another word to him. "Let's go," he bellowed to his wife.

She looked to her son in clear hesitation, not wanting to leave him. "Mommy, don't leave me. Please, don't leave me." Sy could see the heartbreak on her face as he spoke that broken plea.

"I love you, Sy," she said as she too turned away from him.

"Mommy, please don't leave me! Mom!" He tried calling her back, screaming as loud as he could. But she never came back.

The nurse, who had stayed to make sure the man left without causing further harm to the boy, sat down on the bed and pulled him into her embrace. He screamed against her chest, his arms wrapping around her as hers did to him, and she held him there for the rest of her shift and some time after it.

"Sh-she l-left me there. I told the nurse I didn't want to see either of them again. And I haven't seen them since." He wiped his eyes. Sam noticed his hands were shaking. "When I was released..." He sighed. "I found a shelter because it was better than the street. I stayed there until I saved up enough money to get my own place. After that, I put myself in school. That's where I met Shelly." He sniffled. Wiped his eyes.

"Sy..." Sam stopped, his voice seemingly caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. "I'm glad someone found you. I think that I would have soon followed once I found out." He swallowed hard in a difficult attempt to keep his composure. "I need you, Sy. I've always needed you."

Sy shook his head and stood from the bed. Sam felt the distance immediately and wanted to close it more than he'd wanted anything in so long. But he made himself stay put, leaning forward, his elbows braced against his knees. "You don't know me anymore, Sammy. I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm...I'm so damaged now. So...broken."

"Sy," he said lightly on an exhalation. He stood and crossed the room, taking Sy's hands in his own but not taking his eyes away from the ones staring into his. "I'm not the same person, either. It's been twelve years. I don't expect you to be that same kid. And no matter what you've gone through, no matter what scars may line your skin or your soul, that doesn't change who you are at the core. It doesn't change that I've always needed you." 

He brought up his hand to push a lock of Sy's hair from his face. "We've both been through our fair share. All I have hoped for since that night you left is that you'll come back. All I've wanted is for you to be in my life again. To be in my arms again. To bring back my light again. Because I promise you, Sy...it's so fucking dark where I am, too. I've been so cold and so alone for so damned long...and when I saw you at the park it was like the sun finally came out."

Sy looked away as tears once again slid down his face. "Sammy..." It was a plea that Sam didn't quite understand the meaning of.

Sam took a hesitant step closer to him, unsure of exactly the right thing to do. "I'm right here," he said in a soft voice just above a whisper.

"Find me, Sammy. Please." Sy leaned his head against Sam's shoulder, his face nestled between Sam's clavicle and pectoral. As Sy's tears began to rain heavier, Sam wrapped both arms around him, his face buried against the side of Sy's neck. As he kissed lightly against his pulse, Sam felt how fast Sy’s heart was beating.

Sam slowly began to rock them. "Sh. Sh. It's okay. I've got you. I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you, Sy." At these words, his tears came even harder, much to Sam's surprise. He had said it on impulse. He knew Sy was scared but as of right now, Sam had no idea of what. Or of whom. This confirmed something Sam could only speculate about, and dear God he hoped it wasn't that. Sam tightened his grip around Sy. "Easy, baby. Easy. I'm right here. I've got you. I won't let go this time." They were sitting on the bed now, Sam having brought them over to it once Sy started to calm some. Sam looked into Sy's face, his hands running through his hair in anxiety-ridden restlessness. "Are you okay?"

Sy shook his head. "No. And not for a long time now." His hands were shaking as he brought them up to cover his face. Sam watched him take a deep breath, hold it, slowly release it. Repeat. He did this several times before dropping his hands. He gave Sam a look of trepidation. 

"Sorry." He looked down and took another breath.

"Sy," he said lightly. Sy gave him a side glance but didn't turn to look directly at him. "Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize to me for."

Sy scoffed. "I have so much to apologize to you for." He wiped his eyes again, shaking his head. "I have everything to apologize for. Especially to you."

Sam wrapped his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder. "Why especially me? Nothing that happened was in your control. That's what you said, right?" He nodded. "So if it was beyond your control, what is it you need to apologize for?"

Sy sniffled and shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like it's all my fault." He took a breath. "If I hadn't kept the picture. If I hadn't written about us. He'd have never found out. But I never thought he would go through my stuff. Read my journals. But I did. And he did. And here we are now." 

Sy was breathing with difficulty and Sam rubbed his palm over his back. Sam knew well enough this was the reader's digest version of what happened, but at least it was something. Some...clue...as to what brought this whole thing into motion. 

"I begged him to let me say goodbye to you. I didn't think he was going to. He didn't. I snuck out of the house to tell you goodbye. It was worth what happened after I got home. I couldn't leave without telling you...I couldn't just vanish without a trace. Not to you."

Sam pulled him a bit closer, Sy willingly slumping into his arms. "What happened after you got home?"

Sy shook his head, his tears renewing as that night flashed before his eyes. He couldn't tell him what had awaited him that night. Not yet. "I can't, Sammy. I can't."

Sam decided not to push and let it drop, concentrating instead on calming Sy once more. "Sy...can I ask you something?"

"You can ask. Can't say as to if I'll answer." Sy sat back up putting some distance between them, but not breaking complete contact.

"Fair enough," Sam agreed. "Have you ever told anyone about what happened to you?"

Sy nodded slightly. "I told Shelly a lot of it. Not-not everything, but a lot of it."

Sam swallowed his emotions. "Good. I'm glad you've had someone to turn to. Sy...I know there's a lot between us...but..." He was going to say but I still love you but paused, rethinking his position. 

Instead, he said, "But I'm always here for you. Time may have gone by...and with as much shit has changed, we'd always been able to come to the other before...that still applies. If you need me, I'm here."

Sy looked at him, his face red and eyes puffy. His eyes giving way to his tortured soul as his pain left its evidence upon his cheeks. Still, Sam couldn't help but notice his beauty.

 "I need you, Sammy." The admission was spoken in a low, hushed volume, but Sy didn't break eye contact as he said this.

Sam sadly smiled at him. "I'm right here, baby." Sy leaned into him again and Sam took a deep breath. "I missed you so much." He felt his eyes sting. Fuck. He closed them, hoping to will back the moisture gathering.

"I missed you. More than I can say."

 They sat there, lost within the feel of the other against them, clinging, clutching, hoping this wasn't a cruel dream they'd wake from presently. Sam felt like he'd been stabbed as Sy finally sat up. He looked at the clock on his phone, prompting Sam to do the same. Almost seven. Where did the time go? 

"I should probably get going. It'll be Sammy's bedtime soon and he won't go to sleep without me there. His separation anxiety is more severe at night."

They stood. "I wish you could stay. But I understand. I wouldn't keep you from him. But that doesn't make me want you to go less." 

The tears dried long ago and in its wake was a bumpy aftermath. Sam touched his fingertips to Sy's forehead, swiping long hair from his face.

"I wish I could stay, too. Can we see each other again?" Sy seemed nervous.

Sam smiled slightly at him. "It goes without saying that I wanna see you again." He leaned in slowly, making his intentions clear and giving Sy the opportunity to say no. But he didn't and Sam touched his lips gently against Sy's. 

"Will you let me know you got home safely?"

Sy nodded. "I can do that. Can I text you later?"

Sam smiled that sad smile again and Sy wondered about that particular smile, and what exactly it meant. "You can text me anytime you want to text me." Sy smiled brightly for the first time that day. As Sam watched that beautiful smile spread across Sy's beautiful features, his heart melted. With his thumb, Sam traced the underside of Sy's bottom lip. "You're still just as beautiful as you ever were. Especially when you smile. Be safe on your way home."

Sy knew he was blushing and was grateful Sam decided not to mention it. He was sure he was glowing even in the dim lighting. "Promise."

Sam sighed to himself as he shut the front door after watching Sy drive away. Changing clothes he sank down onto his bed, dropping his head in his hands.

Fuck.

Suddenly he felt angry. Angry at the injustice of what happened to Sy, even though he still had no idea what the fuck happened to him...but if it was enough to make him...do that...God...Sam didn't even want to think about it. He wanted to know about that pain in his eyes, that fear...what the cause is...what happened. He knew he'd have to be patient. At least he knew slightly more about what happened that night.

As he turned on the television for some background noise, he contemplated all the terrors that Sy could have suffered after that night. Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

His phone vibrated in his hand, startling him from his thoughts.

Sy: Made it home.

Sam: Good. I know you have to get Sammy in bed, but if you feel like texting me afterward don't hesitate.

"Please," he whispered after he hit send.

It was Friday evening and Sam sat alone with the television on, though if asked, he wouldn't have been able to say what it was that played. He was deep in thought, his eyes distant as he replayed the last couple months in his head. He and Sy had grown considerably closer, their time together becoming easier as they reacquainted themselves. Discussions of the past had been postponed by silent agreement, concentrating on the here and now; though he had to admit, at least to himself, the past was never far from his thoughts.

He jumped suddenly, jared from his thoughts as the ring tone cut through the fog in his mind. He grabbed the phone from off the side table next to his spot on the couch and looked at the display screen. He smiled lightly and answered.

 "Hey."

"Hey. You okay?" 

Sam frowned at the question. "Um, yeah," he replied. "What's up?"

"Well, I was wondering if you're up for some company tonight? Sammy is going with Shelly to see his grandmother and well...thought maybe you wouldn't mind my coming over?"

Sam smiled. "Not in the least."

"Great. In that case, can you open the door?" Sam heard the smile in Sy's voice and laughed as he stood.

"Goof, why didn't you just knock?" He hung up the phone as he pulled the door open wide. A smile, wide and bright as the morning sun, greeted Sam and he couldn't help, nor did he try to stop the one that spread across his face.

Sy's answering smile matched Sam's own and he shrugged as he said, “I did. You didn’t answer. That’s why I called.” He walked inside the house, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. Sam chuckled to himself, shook his head and followed Sy into his room, leaving the door open. Setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed, Sy plopped down, smiling slightly as the springs bounced him. Sam sat next to him, pulling one leg up underneath the other, his eyes locked on Sy. 

"What?" Sy squirmed under his scrutiny, a small, shy smile beginning to spread.

Sam looked away, his smile slipping the smallest fraction. "I... sometimes I still can't believe you're here. And I get these overwhelming urges to just...memorize every detail of you...in case..." He didn't finish the sentence and once again broke eye contact.

"In case I disappear again," Sy finished for him, his voice holding a sad tone.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I don't want to..." He sighed and looked to his right. "I don't want to be the reason the smile slips off your face."

Sy smiled a delicate smile. "There's a lot of sadness between us. There's still so much to cover..." Languidly he cupped Sam's face, bringing his lips to gently connect with Sam's. "And we will cover it all. Eventually." He kissed him gently, but with urgency. "I've missed you so much."

Sam pulled Sy's body along top of his, their tongues dueling for dominance. Sam moaned as Sy moved against him, lifting his hips slightly in response.

Suddenly Sy pulled back, sitting up and away from Sam. His eyes were dull, his face pale, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin. Sam watched him from the position he remained in for many beats before slowly moving into a sitting position. He didn't speak. He simply watched Sy's thoughts flash across his face. He wondered what he saw behind his eyes, what he remembered from his time at...wherever the hell he’d been. He didn't speak yet, taking his time as he slowly inched closer to Sy, who by now had his arms wrapped around himself.

"Sy," he said, his voice a soft whisper. "Sy, look at me. Come on, love, look at me." With the placement of his fingertips against Sy's cheeks, a lone tear escaped the confines of his eyelid. His gaze not as blurred in the past as a moment before. "Come back to me, Sy. You're here with me now. Not there with them. Come on, beautiful, come back to me." Sy's gaze focused on Sam then and he smiled slightly. "Hi, there." Sam's chest felt tight but he willed away his emotions and focused on Sy.

"I'm-"

"Don't you dare apologize to me," Sam said, his face one of seriousness. "Never apologize for what they did to you." Sy lowered his eyes even as Sam lifted his chin with his finger.  "Sy, look at me." He did for the slightest moment. His eyes were so full of sorrow that it gave Sam pause. "Please."

Sy sighed a long and sorrowful exhalation. "But I'm so fucked up."

"Love," Sam began and sighed a controlled breath. "I want you to know that sex isn't what I'm after. I don't expect anything physical. I don’t expect anything at all. I just...I'm just happy you're in my life again. The rest we can figure out as we go." 

Sy leaned into him, his forehead resting against his shoulder. His breath hitching as his emotions swelled within him. He wanted to tell Sam that he just wanted to feel normal. Do normal things. But all he did was nod when Sam suggested they watch something on Netflix.

Sam felt Sy begin to relax not quite twenty minutes into the second movie. His body was pressed lengthwise down Sam's, turned on his side so his arm snaked over his abdomen, his head resting against Sam's chest. Sy's fingers glided absently across Sam's skin. 

Minutes prior Sy's hand slipped under his cotton t-shirt, fingertips tracing patterns that sizzled Sam's flesh. No longer paying attention to the movie, his full focus was now on a touch he'd missed so fucking much. He dare not look from the screen, or move, for that matter, in fear that Sy would pull away. He drew in a sharp, silent breath as Sy's fingers grazed just below his boxer line. His eyes drifted shut as each sensation washed over him.

His breathing picked up as Sy's hand-dipped further and his hands balled into the blankets. A small moan escaped him when Sy's hand wrapped fully around him.

Sam was in pure bliss as he lifted his hips to allow Sy better ease with which to pull his pants down far enough where the denim wasn't in the way. A sigh escaped him and a moaning of Sy's name as he felt his touch bring him closer and closer to the edge.