"Will you stay? I know I said I'm going to spend time with Sammy, but please don't leave me this way. I need you here." Sy moved closer to Sam, wrapping his arm tighter around his side, burying his face further into Sam's chest.

"I'll never leave you, Sy. If you want me to stay, I'll stay. I like spending time with you and Sammy. He reminds me of you at that age. He's the spitting image of you." Sy smiled. "He's been very anxious to see you."

Sy closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sure he has. I need to take a shower before going out there." He tightened his grip more.

"You gonna be okay?" Sam asked, kissing his forehead.

Sy nodded. "You'll be here when I get out?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "I'll be here."

As Sy stood under the spray of the shower he allowed the water to cascade down his body while his mind raced. Closing his eyes he decided not to think about what Monday night held in store...after talking to Shelly about watching Sammy for the night, that is. For the moment he tried clearing his mind enough to function and to convince his son he was alright after the boy witnessed his catatonic state. Once washed and clean, he reluctantly shut off the water, dried off, and entered his room to get dressed.

When he walked into the living room he smiled at the sight he was greeted with. Sammy was in Sam's lap, the boy's head on his chest and looking every bit like he'd lost his only friend in the world. Sam's arms were around the boy, comforting him as he spoke softly and in low tones. Sammy nodded at whatever Sam was telling him. Sam looked up upon Sy's entry and their eyes met. Sam offered him a small smile before whispering something to Sammy that made his head pop up and little body swivel around.

 "Daddy!" Sammy scrambled off Sam's lap and charged at his father, throwing himself at the man. Sy lifted the boy easily and brought him close. Sam could hear the boy crying in relief and fear as all his emotions came flooding back to him, overwhelming his little boy system.

Sy came fully into the room and sat on the couch, his son still clinging to him, though his tears seemed to have been relieved. Shelly looked at them and gave a small smile, hers and Sy's eyes catching over the boy's head. He smiled back answering her question just as silently as she had asked it.

They spent the rest of the night watching movies with popcorn, allowing Sammy to pick a majority of the films. It was the weekend, so there was no need to worry about bed time being missed. Sammy didn't abandon his father's lap for long periods of time that night, save for bathroom trips or runs to the kitchen for food. Sy never complained, always allowing Sammy to retake his spot on his lap, holding the boy close and soaking in as much comfort as he was giving. 

Sy caught Sam watching him throughout the night, a small smile playing on his lips each time their eyes met. Sy could tell he wanted to be closer to him, but stayed in the chair he had been occupying when he had come into the room, allowing all Sy's attention to be focused on Sammy; except in those moments when they caught eyes.

Sy's breath always caught when he caught Sam's eyes on him. While he could see the lust, he saw so much more before it. It seemed to Sy as if he was watching to make sure he didn't disappear again. Or as if it were a dream he could wake up from at any moment, and he wanted to make sure to memorize every detail before he did. Sy could see the pain Sam held so close to his heart.

The truth was, he had screamed for Sam. He had screamed his name, begging for rescue. He had screamed his name so as not to forget it. He had screamed in pain. Both from the physical and mental torture he had had to endure. He screamed when Casey...he closed his eyes and dismissed the thought. 

And the fact that Sam heard it, felt it enough to scream with him, well...Sy didn't know how to process that information. It left him mystified. Sam smiled at him, a slow, small curving smile pulling at his lips. There was so much emotion held within those hazel orbs that Sy almost had to look away due to the intensity of it.

As his eyes moved back to the television, Sy wondered what the hell he was doing. All that time in that...place...he never wanted to admit that what they did to him had any real effect on how his feelings were toward men, but what he had to admit, at least to himself, that what they did to him there, the things that he experienced, had in fact done something. 

Among the soaring feelings he still felt for Sam, underlying it was shame. Fear. Trauma. He had never really wanted to think about why in the past twelve years he had refused to seek out someone to take away the pain from his past. 

Yes, over the years he had found men attractive and had wanted something more with some of them, but whenever he would think about trying to find someone to love him and someone he could love, those months there would replay in his mind and he would feel sick. 

The feelings he had hidden as he left Sam's the morning after he stayed the night is what ended Sam here tonight. What ended up with Sy having an almost twelve-hour flashback to all the horrendous things that happened to him there. Shelly snapped him out of his thoughts with a touch of her hand to his arm. His head snapped to her to meet her worried brown eyes. She smiled sadly at him knowing exactly what was on his mind.

 She nodded her chin at the boy. "You should go put him in bed," she said gently. 

Sy looked at his son who was sleeping peacefully and nodded before standing up to do just that. He took a moment to watch his son sleep after he set him down in bed and pulled up the covers to his chin. He could never imagine allowing this perfect being that held his heart in so many ways he never knew possible, having gone through what he did. He couldn't imagine leaving his son with the pain that his father and mother left him with as they walked out of that hospital room. As they walked out on him. 

When he returned to the living room Shelly stood and stretched before making her way over to where Sy stood looking so very lost. 

Gently she kissed his cheek before whispering to him, "Talk to him, Sy. Let him in."

"I'm scared," he admitted in a low voice. 

"I know, baby. But you deserve to be happy." She kissed his cheek again. "Let yourself be happy. And if that means with him, be happy with him. I love you, Sy. Good night." She stepped away from him and smiled over at Sam. "Good night, Sam. I'll see you in the morning."

Sam smiled at her. "Night, Shelly." 

His eyes moved back over to Sy who was staring at him with so many things written on his face that Sam couldn't quite read it. As Sam angled his head slightly to the side in a questioning glance, he kept his eyes locked on the silent man. Slowly Sy made his way over to him, stopping directly in front of him. Sam sat up slightly and took Sy's hands, slightly pulling him toward him. Sy did not resist but instead climbed into Sam's lap, so much like Sammy had been sitting earlier. His knees were pulled up against Sam's ribs, his head against Sam's chest as he listened to his heart beating. 

"You okay?" Sam asked as he wrapped his arms around Sy, kissing his temple. Sy took a ragged breath before shaking his head. "Wanna talk about it?" Sy curled up tighter in Sam's lap, shaking his head again. After a moment Sam whispered, "Sy? Why are you shaking?"

"I'm scared," was the agonized, whispered reply as he turned his head further into Sam’s chest.

"Of what? Of me?"

Sy felt gentle fingers gliding over his back and he shook his head. "No. I've never been afraid of you, Sammy."

"Then what?" Sam's voice was so soft as he spoke, it was breaking Sy's resolve.

"Of everything else." There was a pause before, "They made me so ashamed."

"Who made you ashamed of what, Sy?" Sy felt Sam take a deep breath as if to calm his nerves.

"They made me ashamed of myself. Of how I feel for you. Because I'm gay. Th-they made me hate myself. They made me want to die. Sometimes I wish I had. Sometimes I wish I could." He squeezed his eyes shut at this admission.

"Don't say that, Sy. God, please don't say that." Sam's voice became thick as he pleaded this.

"I just want this pain to end, Sammy. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to feel safe. I've only ever felt safe with you. Even as kids. I never really knew why I never felt safe as a kid, it isn't like I was beaten or anything."

Sam smiled slightly. "You never mentioned that before."

"I know. It wasn't something I could explain. Even to myself. I didn't know why."

"Do you know why now?" Sam queried.

Sy nodded his head. "I know why now."

"Care to share?" Sam asked on a light chuckle after a moment when Sy did not elaborate.

"Because I know you wouldn't hurt me. Not on purpose. Not like they did."

There's that they again, Sam thought, but didn't press. "I'd never want to do anything to cause you pain." Sam cradled Sy's cheek. "All I want to do is take all your pain away."

"There's so much of it, Sammy."

"I know." He kissed his temple again.

"Don't leave, Sammy." Sam frowned. Did he mean tonight? Forever?

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered softly.

"Please, hold me." Sy was begging. Begging for more than simply being held.

"You wanna go lie down?" Sam asked and Sy nodded before climbing off Sam's lap, but not relinquishing his hand. Sam stood and with their hands still clasped and followed Sy into his bedroom. Not looking at the other they stripped down to their boxers, leaving their shirts on. Sam watched Sy as he crawled into bed and instantly curled up into a self-deprecating ball. He didn't know if the fear he saw presented all over his trembling form was because of him, or because of the distal cause that brought him here today. Or is it one and the same?

Quietly and still watching Sy, Sam climbed under the covers next to him. Sy scooted closer to him but suddenly stopped, a flicker of...something crossing Sy's face before it vanished just as quickly. Still, Sy didn't come any closer with the exception of his hand. Sam watched as Sy's fingers crawled toward his hand, resting them the slightest bit on the top of Sam's hand. Sam watched him unmoving, as if he would start like a wild deer and scurry as fast as he could backward. 

"What are you so afraid of, Sy?" Sam asked him in the barest whisper. Sy said nothing, closed his eyes, and pulled his chin to his chest. "Sy?" Sy didn't look at him but squeezed his hand the slightest bit in reply. "Do you still want to come here?"

Sy moved then, seeking Sam's warmth as he opened his arms to allow him into his hold. Sam wanted to get him to talk, to release the pent up anguish he could see in the storm clouds building in his eyes, but he said nothing. Now wasn't the time. And if he were honest with himself, he didn't know if he was ready to hear it. He lay awake long after Sy fell asleep, watching him. 

Watching as frowns appeared across his face, as small whimpers escaped him. Soothed him from the nightmares he had no idea of. Wiped the tears that leaked from closed eyes as he dreamed on. Sam lay most of the night simply watching Sy sleep, ready to keep any and all nightmares at bay. A warrior always prepared and was ready for the fight. A fight against what exactly? He didn't know.

"Shelly?" Shelly turned at her name, the article she had been reading momentarily forgotten. She took in Sy's appearance; his pale face, the dark circles under his eyes, his face long and with an expression she hadn't seen in nearly ten years. She stood from her computer and walked over to where he huddled just inside the doorway.

"What's up, honey?" Her voice was gentle and he closed his eyes against the concern on her face.

"Are you busy tonight?" He sounded so defeated.

She was in fact busy that night, but she would never tell him that. "No. I was just going to relax at home."

"Would you mind watching Sammy for the night?"

She looked at him a moment before, "You going to go to Sam's?" He nodded. "Sy?" He looked up at her, his jade eyes expressing so much.

 She took his hand and laced their fingers together. "Talk to him." His eyes glistened and he looked away. "Sy." She waited until he dragged his eyes back to hers. "Talk to him. Tell him what happened. For your own sake, Sy, tell him what happened. You need to release it. You need to prove yourself wrong. And prove yourself right."

He nodded. "Thank you, Shelly."

It was evening when they were finally getting ready to head over to Sam's for the night. Sam loaded Sy's bag into the trunk as Sy talked with his son.

"But I don't want you to leave me, Daddy." Sammy was clearly upset, his face red and swollen with tears.

"Sammy, baby," Sy said as he lightly grasped the boy's shoulders. "Take a breath. Good. One more." When the boy calmed down, Sy continued, "Now, I won't be gone but for the night. I'll be home by the time you get home from school tomorrow."

"But why can't I go with you?" His knees jerked with frustration.

"Because baby, you need to stay here." Sammy hugged his father as he cried against his shoulder. He felt terrible for leaving him in this state but he knew no matter when he left it would incite a similar reaction.

Sam joined Sy, kneeling down in front of his namesake. "I promise, Sammy boy, I'll take good care of your daddy."

"Why are you taking him away from me?" His face fell even more as his lower lip protruded

"Ah, Sammy," Sam said with a small sigh and pulled the boy slightly closer. "Listen to me. No matter where your daddy goes, or who he may be with, no one could ever take him away from you. He will always love you the most. And he’ll always love you first. But see, sometimes even daddies have to do things they don't really want to do. Like leave you here without him. And sometimes daddies have to heal from their hurt in places that won't scare their sons. Understand?"

Sammy nodded in understanding. "I understand. Promise you'll take good care of him?"

"I do promise you, Sammy."

Sammy looked back at his father and reached out for him to lift him, and Sy complied. He hugged the boy tightly and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Sammy. I promise I will be back tomorrow, okay?"

Sammy nodded. "I love you, Daddy. Will you be happier tomorrow?"

Sy forced himself to smile. "I'll be happier, Sammy." My only hope is I don't crumble to ashes.

Sammy smiled, looking at his father with calculating eyes that at times made Sy uneasy. With one last kiss, Sy set Sammy to his feet, thanked Shelly once more, and forced himself to get into the car.

Sy was quiet on the drive. A trait Sam now knew was more customary than not these days. But his silence today was thick with anxiety-ridden unease. Sam wanted to reach for Sy's hand but wasn't sure if it would be wanted. He found himself unsure how to handle this fragile being to his right. 

He didn't want to scare him or cause any discomfort. He felt his guts churn at the thought that this whole situation was because of him. Fuck it. On seeing Sy's fist clenched against his knee, Sam set his hand atop his, running his thumb gently over his knuckles.

Sy began to calm almost immediately at the feel of Sam's hand offering quiet comfort. He was grateful that Sam didn't speak. That he seemed to know what he needed. It was like he had heard his internal begging to please, please help me!

They arrived at Sam's half an hour later and without a sound exited the car. "I'll get it," Sam said as Sy began to reach for the overnight bag he'd packed. 

He hadn't the strength to argue and allowed Sam to carry his bag. He looked like he had no idea what to do and wanted to do something. Sam let him into the house with a wave of his hand. With a smile, Sam walked past a nervous-looking Sy and headed toward his room to set down Sy's bag. Sy followed without a word and sat on the bed, toed off his shoes, and moved backward so he was fully on the mattress. Sam noted curiously how nervous Sy was.

"Hey," Sam said as he sat down next to him, his voice and tone soft. Sy glanced at him then away again. He sighed lightly in an attempt to dispel the tightening of his chest. "Sy, you don't have to be afraid of me."

He shook his head. "I'm not afraid of you."

Sam reached over to caress Sy's cheek, and even through that minimal contact, he felt the vibrations throughout Sy's being. "Then why are you shaking?"

Sy closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Because I'm fucking terrified." He opened his eyes again. "But not of you. I mean...I don't think you're going to hit me, or anything."

"Then what?"

Sy sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking. "I'm afraid of what might happen after I tell you. What you'll think of me. What I'll think of myself. I'm afraid that they were right." As he spoke his voice thickened and he felt himself already beginning to lose his resolve.

"Sy," Sam nearly whispered and waited for Sy to look at him before he spoke further. "I'm not rushing you to talk about this right now. We have all night, okay." Sy nodded. "We can just chill for a while. We don't have to delve right into the hard stuff immediately."

Sy nodded again. "I know. It's just that..." He paused, not wanting to hurt Sam with his words.

"That what?" Sam pressed gently.

Sy shook his head, pursing his lips. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Sy." Sam placed the barest touch of his fingertips against Sy's cheek. Sy didn't look at him but instead closed his eyes, willing himself not to lose it.

"I don't want to hurt you." There was so much pain woven within those six words and Sam felt himself swallow.

"Sy..." Sam paused before starting again. "I need to ask something of you."

Sy frowned. "What?"

"Honesty. I need you to be honest with me. I'm a big boy, Sy. Sometimes the truth hurts. But regardless, I need your honesty if nothing else. And you'll get no less from me."

"It just seems easier to get it out of the way now so that when it all comes out...if...if you make me leave...I won't have the memories of this being a good night before it all went to shit." He paused letting out a shuddering breath. "And...if you don't make me leave, I can spend it in your arms. And maybe you can make it all disappear." Sy's chest clenched around the memories and those attached emotions. "God, Sammy, I want you to make it disappear." His eyes were glistening but his cheeks were dry.

As Sam looked at him, he saw the anguish he'd seen in his eyes since their meeting in the park. Only now it wasn't being blocked. It wasn't just the shadow of past pain. It was there for him to see. Open and bleeding.

 "I want nothing more...I've wanted nothing more than to erase all the pain I've ever seen in your eyes since we were kids."

"My father," Sy began, "found a picture of us in my room. He...I begged him to let me say goodbye to you...he refused. So that night I snuck out. He was waiting for me when I got home and he beat me...so badly and he did something else I can’t get into yet. The next day my father drove us to a designated spot and he forced me to go with a man. Big guy. I was terrified." He was silent for a moment before he took a deep breath. "It was horrible, Sammy. That place...what they made us do."

"What place, Sy? Where did he send you?" Sam asked as he laced their fingers together, still sitting side by side on the edge of Sam's bed.

"A conversion camp." The words choked him in a sob.

"Oh God," Sam whispered as he tugged on his arm, pulling Sy against his chest. Having earlier kicked his shoes off, Sy curled himself against Sam's side.

Once he'd stopped trembling he sat up and looked at Sam's beautiful face. He wore a worrisome expression, and he could see pain in his eyes, dark now with sorrow. Sorrow for him, though not pitying. "I can't...tell you everything in a night...but...what I need to tell you...If you can stand the sight of me after this, well, the rest will come in time."

"I'm not going anywhere, Sy," Sam vowed.

Sy nodded slightly, not looking a bit like he believed him. Turning over his right arm he looked at the scar that ran up the inside of his wrist. "The man that ran the place was a special kind of cruel. My father signed a permission form for a harsher...I guess...form of "treatment" when "necessary". In this unit, there were four of us." He paused and sucked in a deep breath. "Casey. Adrian. Julie. Me. Casey and I bunked together. The girls bunked together. Casey was a year younger than me. One night I woke up and he was crying..."

Sy opened his eyes to the sounds that penetrated his sleep. "Casey?"

"Go back to sleep, Sy," came the low response. Instead of listening he climbed out of his bed and went over to the bed just three steps from his and sat down. Casey curled up into his new friend's knee. Sy's hand automatically began combing through his hair. "I wanna go home," he whispered. "I don't want to be here."

"I know. None of us do." Sy lay down then and pulled the younger boy into his arms.

"They hate me now."

"Who?"

"My parents. They said such terrible things to me. They hit me." Sighing Sy regaled the beating he received from his father, both boys tightening their grip in support of the other's pain. A pain shared. "I don't think I'll make it out of here."

"You will. We both will. We'll help each other through this."

"Even as I said those words, I felt an emptiness to them. I meant them...but somehow I knew..."

"Sy?"

"Hm?"

Casey lifted his head then, capturing Sy's lips. The kiss was hurried, frenzied. And when Casey's hand slipped beneath his boxers, he didn't fight him. He moaned into Casey's mouth, his own hand grasping Casey as they both brought the other to completion. A moment of solace in the midst of hell.

"Somehow he knew...I don't know if there were cameras in the room…I mean, looking back on it now, he must have...but he knew regardless...the next morning he woke us early...dragged us into a chamber and made us strip naked." Sy stopped talking, his face contorting with anguish as tears slipped free.

They stood there, naked and vulnerable, facing the man that continued to torture their bodies, minds, and souls. Behind him, there was a large, white screen. A movie screen, Sy realized, and before either of them knew it, two men lay in a bed together, one on his back as the other sucked his engorged cock. The man's moans filled the room. Sy's head jerked to his right when he saw the man approach Casey and hit his erecting penis with a cattle prod. Casey screamed. The movie played on, the scene changing to the two men having sex.

"Each time we would get hard from the images, he would shock us. It went on for hours at a time. Begging him to stop did no good. Crying made it worse. But I think he liked hearing us scream."

"Christ, Sy," Sam whispered.

"One night I came back from dinner three weeks later...and I found Casey...he sharpened his toothbrush and he sliced his wrists. H-he was already dead by the time I found him. There was so much blood. After that, he made it a point to point out that I killed him. That when we sinned together that night, I killed him. He found every way to blame me." He looked at Sam. "I killed him, Sammy."

Sam pulled Sy into him, wrapping his arms around him. "No, Sy. No, baby, you didn't kill him."

"Yes, I did. I should have just gone back to sleep. I should have..." He couldn't finish as his sobs overpowered his ability to speak around them. He clutched and clawed at Sam, begging to be forgiven, begging not to be left alone. Begging.

Sam's heart was in a thousand fragments. Not because Sy found comfort in the arms of another, but at the pain expounding in waves from his...what? His friend. Because if nothing else, they were friends. 

"You didn't kill him, Sy."

"I wanted to join him. So badly. Why didn't they just let me die, Sammy? I don't want to live with this anymore." Sam tried not to panic at those words, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and held Sy until his wails died down to whimpers.

"I love you, Sy. Nothing you tell me that happened will change that. You're a good person. You never could just leave someone to cry alone when they were so clearly upset. It's how we met Lilly, remember?"

Sy sniffled and nodded. "I remember."

"It's in your nature to care about others. And I've always loved that about you."

"How do I know you won't leave me once you find out how really fucked up I am?" Sy whispered, desperate to know. Desperately scared to know.

"I guess you don't. You just have to let me prove it to you. And I really want to prove it to you. If you'll let me." Sam kissed his forehead, his eyes slipping closed. He sighed heavily and looked Sy in his eyes, searching for...he didn't quite know. "This whole thing is my fault, isn't it? It's because of me that you...I'm not exactly sure what happened...but it's my fault, isn't it?"