"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?" Sam held his breath as he waited for an answer. His heart pounded and he had to look away as Sy's face contorted with the memory of a few nights ago.

"No. It isn't your fault," Sy answered slowly as shame appeared across his features. He laughed and the sound was utterly devoid of humor. "They...brainwashed me...only I didn't know it then. We didn't do anything the other night I wasn't a willing participant in. Something that I, in fact, initiated."

"Do you regret it?" 

Sy tried to read his face, but it was kept carefully cool, calculated, and composed. His eyes, those hazel orbs that could be as clear as the beaches on some deserted tropical island, or cloudy as Galveston Bay where the muddy Brazos River flows into it.

"No." Sy watched closely as Sam's eyes slipped closed and he minutely nodded as if he didn't quite believe him. "Sammy," Sy said as he lightly gripped his chin and turned his eyes to meet his. "I don't regret it. I don't regret you. But there's something you need to understand, Sammy." Sam frowned, his gaze solely focused on Sy's face. "They broke me. And it's not going to be easy to...fix me, Sammy. And I'm scared...I'm so goddamned fucking terrified." 

Sy stood, releasing Sam's hand, and walked several paces away. Sam watched as Sy's arms wrapped around himself, his head hanging. With his back to him, Sam imagined the look on his face. Eyes scrunched, brow drawn down in anguished suffering. So badly did he want to pull Sy into his arms, but he didn't dare move toward him. He turned slowly, making his head rise just enough to look into Sam's eyes.

 "They treated us like Pavlov's dogs. Only with negative reinforcement. When it starts to feel good...when I begin to react...is when it all happens. When it all comes back.

"The other night I kept it at bay while I was here...and I felt...odd...but not bad...until I went to bed...then it all hit me...everything they did. Finding Casey's body. The beatings. And..." He faded off and shook his head, not wanting to admit the last part out loud.

Minutes passed before Sam finally stood and made his way over to Sy. With such fierce gentleness, Sam cradled Sy's cheek, thumbing away drying tears. 

"And what?"

Sy closed his eyes, nuzzling further into Sam's hand. "And when I relive it, I want to die all over again." 

Sam took in a ragged breath, his eyes slipping closed as well. Sy studied him before asking something that he'd been wanting to ask for some time now.

 "What did you mean that day when you said...well...you said something about it not turning out well for you or something…? You remember?" Sy frowned, knowing he didn’t explain that very well in the least.

Sam nodded but didn't speak. Finally, he croaked out, "I remember." He visibly swallowed.

"What did you mean, Sammy?"

Sam's eyes misted as he thought back to that time and he fought back the tears. He thought about why Logan always looked at him the way he did. That never-ending worry that had become permanent when it came to his fucked up twin.

 "You weren't the only one who wanted to die, Sy." Sy said nothing. What could he say? He leaned forward, resting his head on his shoulder, burying his face in Sam's neck.

 "I'll do whatever needs to be done to erase what they put in your head. Believe me, I'm scared, too. But I know that I love you and I know that you're all I've ever needed. And Sammy boy...I'm wrapped around his finger." Sy smiled lightly, knowing the truth in that statement.

"I know you are. He adores you. Sammy..." 

Sy kissed him gently, loving the feeling of his lips against his. The soft, tender fullness of his lips. It was like walking into a memory each time they kissed. Sy pulled back and looked into Sam's eye, searching for something that Sam hoped he'd find. "Do you really love me? Really want me? You're not upset about...?" He looked away.

"Sy, listen. If things were reversed, would you hold that against me?" Sy shook his head. "That was a long time ago and you were in a fucked up situation. And besides that, you punish yourself far worse than I ever could. I'm here for you, Sy. In whatever way you need me. I'm not rushing anything, nor am I saying we have to label anything. We'll figure it out as we go...but I want us to figure it out together." 

Sam took a deep breath before looking into Sy's face, noticing the creases in his skin. Laugh lines. Frown lines. He was beautiful. "I... didn't come out of this unscathed, either. Different scars...but we both have our demons to fight. Logan does his best, but even he knows he can't save me. I've been dying inside for so long. Alone and cold and empty. And maybe that's over dramatic and maybe I'm just an idiot, but there it is. And it terrifies me, too. What if you decide you can't handle it? That it would be easier if you just...didn't...I don't fucking know. I'm just scared, too." 

Sam bit down on the inside of his cheek. He wasn't going to lose control. He didn't often speak of these locked away constants. This way of existing. Alone and cold and empty. Yeah, that about sums it up. He never spoke of it, didn't dare to dwell on it, for fear of where it would lead him. To examine them now...hurt so much more than he had anticipated. 

"But yes, to answer your questions. I love and want you with every fiber of my being. It angers me what they did to you...the pain they put you through, the pain and fear so clearly written in your eyes, hurts me...but it hurts because I love you. What they did, no matter what it is, doesn't make me want you less. It doesn't make me love you less. It doesn't matter that I don't know what happened right now. I know that it won't change anything. But when we finally work it out, you know what it will do?"

 Sy shook his head, his throat closed and tight, allowing hardly enough air to pass, let alone words. "It'll make it that much sweeter when at the end I can finally have you at my side. Completely at my side. When you won't think about what happened every time you look at me." Sam ran his fingertips down Sy's cheek and with those words, Sy looked away.

He had been broken as well. He was lost to the tides of a raging ocean, carried away by a galloping wind. So much of what made Sam, Sam died that night Sy walked out of his life. And even though he had an explanation, and he wasn't upset with Sy about the situation, how could he be? the damage was done. And he knew that while he battled his own insecurities, his own fears and complexes, he would have to face Sy's as well. He wondered briefly as he stared at Sy if he would have the strength to do this. But he knew, even as he wondered, that he didn't have an option in the matter.

They said that everyone born has a purpose in life. And as he watched silent tears fall from closed lids he knew full well that the man before him was his purpose. To fight for him. To bring him back from the brink of self-destruction. To bring him back into the sunlight. To love him. Sy had brought his hand up to Sam's wrist, his hand still poised against Sy's cheek, gripping it, and leaned his head against Sam's shoulder.

 "I never stopped loving you, Sammy. I could never stop loving you." Sam took a deep breath as he waited for that impending but, and when it came it felt like a shot in the heart.

 "But I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this." Sy fisted a handful of Sam's shirt, scared that Sam would turn him away at those words.

"Let me help you, Sy," Sam whispered, his voice catching at the implications of Sy's words. "You asked me to find you. Let me." At this, a great lamentation escaped from Sy, and Sam wrapped his arms around him. "I'm not worried about sex if that's what you're concerned with. I don't care about that. I’ve told you that. We'll take it slowly. Get to know each other again." Sam was trying like hell to keep himself in control. He could feel his body rippling with fear and emotion, feel his heart palpating in his chest and for a moment it was all too overwhelming and he couldn't breathe. He forced himself to calm down.

Sy wrapped his arms around Sam's back, not wanting to let go while wanting to run far, far away. "I never could watch Moulin Rouge again," he said suddenly, stepping back. Sam watched as he went back over to the bed and sat down, scooting up to lean against the headboard. "But sometimes I would sing that song. Some of it...I could never make it all the way through it." He smiled warily at Sam who still stood in the center of the room.

 "I thought about you all the time...but damned if I tried not to." His eyes had flickered away, but back to him again at those last words. He saw the hurt that quickly flashed and vanished.

 "It hurt so much to think of you." Sy pulled his knees up and circled his arms around them. "I thought of you anyway. So much. That shirt...the Mighty Mouse shirt...is the only surviving thing I have left of you. And I would wear it so often. Your smell is long gone from it...but sometimes I still could smell you when I put it on. I could feel you against me." He bit his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he swallowed. "No matter what I thought of...your laughter, your smile...how we used to play when we were little, our first kiss...our first argument...but in the end I would always remember walking away from you, your screaming for me not to leave you, to come back and it would leave me breathless. But I couldn't help it. You're everywhere." Sam stood a moment longer before coming to sit on the edge of the bed. He left space between them, a fact that Sy both understood and was slightly hurt by. 

"What if I'm not good enough anymore, Sammy? What if after all this time, I lose you anyway, all over again?"

Sam didn't look at him as he was posed these questions, nor when he delivered his response. His voice was quiet, an octave above a whisper, his question full of pain and curiosity. "I guess the question is whether or not you think I'm worth the risk. I know that I'm not going anywhere. I know how I feel. Even if you're not sure how I feel. So take the time to examine my question, Sy. And please...don't answer now...am I worth the risk to you? Are you going to let the past stop what you've been looking for since that night you walked out of my house?" 

He looked at him then, his eyes and expression serious beyond all measure. "Are you going to let your father and those bastards win?" 

He looked away as pain rolled across Sy's face at the mention of his father and those...people. Silently Sam stood and went over to his closet, searching through the hanging shirts before pulling one from its hanger. He tossed the shirt at Sy as he sat down. Sy caught it with one hand and let it drop open. He smiled even as his eyes watered. 

"The last night you stayed, you left that at my house. I wore it for days after you left." It was a favored shirt from when he was a teenager, a relic of an old, long-lost life.

"I remember when we went to this concert," Sy whispered, a flood of memories from that night assaulting his mind. "Your mom dropped us off. We were what...fifteen?"

Sam nodded. "Somewhere around there." 

The shirt was a Mayhem Festival concert shirt, on the back featuring the many bands that played that day.

 "I remember you snuck in some joints and we smoked pot with Machine Head. Remember?" He laughed lightly.

Sy laughed with him. He did remember. "Yes. I also remember having to split a cheeseburger because we didn't have enough money for us each to get one." He paused, then said thoughtfully, "I remember you kissing me after Disturbed finished their set..."

"I'm thirsty. Do we have enough to get more water?"

Sam nodded, his smile never leaving his face. "Yep. Come on." Sam nodded his head in that direction and they began walking, hand in hand. Among the crowd, no one paid any mind to two teenage boys as they drank, smoked, and enjoyed the bands. Sam stopped walking and tugged Sy to him, backing him up a few steps until his back was against a brick wall Sy was sure was the back of the restroom building. Sam dipped his head down, capturing Sy's lips with a content sigh before pulling back. "I love you, you know that?

Sy smiled and kissed him again. "I do know that. And I love you." Sy nuzzled into his neck, kissing the pulse point. "Do you know that?"

Sam chuckled. "I do." Sam stepped back, his smile still present, Sy's hand still encased within his. "Come on."

"I was so happy that night," Sy whispered, a hint of a smile softly playing on his lips.

"Me, too," Sam replied. "I'm not gonna give up, you know. I'm not going to just walk away." Sy's smile slipped. "I know you're afraid of me doing that. And I'm not going to sit here and invalidate those fears. You have a right to feel scared. But I'm not going anywhere."

"I hope not," came the ragged reply.

Sam then moved to where he was sitting next to Sy, their shoulders touching the slightest bit. "I hope you let me prove it to you." 

Sy looked at him then. He wasn't looking at him but watching as his fingers worried a thread on the worn comforter that lay spread across the made bed. His face looked drawn and he knew he was trying his best to remain in control. As kids, he had seen Sam cry before. But this wasn't the kid he once knew. The man next to him was in pain, guarded, and not wanting his vulnerability to show. He watched as he swallowed against the emotions this conversation was conjuring against him.

Sy leaned over, palm coming to rest feather-light against Sam's cheek, bringing his face around toward his. Slowly he leaned in, brushing his lips against Sam's trembling ones.

 "I don't want to be afraid to love you, Sammy," he whispered with his eyes closed. They were so close Sy could feel Sam's ragged breathing.

"Do you love me, Sy?" Sam cursed himself as his voice broke at the question. Goddamn it, do not fucking lose your shit, Sam. But he really needed to know. Sy studied the uncertainty in the question, in his voice, and on his face, and it was then he realized that he hadn't said it. Had he? He thought back, but...no...he couldn't recall it. He had in a roundabout way, but not directly. "Sy, say something."

"Sammy..." Sam stood from the bed and stepped back as his chest constricted, dropping all physical contact. "Will you just listen?" Sy asked with a slightly raised voice. "You asked me for honesty...do you want it or not?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes on the floor at their feet, and nodded. "Then please, listen."

Sam took a deep breath and once more nodded. "Okay. I'm listening."

"I've loved you damn near my whole life." Sy stood then, anger suddenly sprouting throughout his bloodstream. "Do I love you? Yes. But you have no idea how much that terrifies me now. How much fucking shame I was taught to feel because of it. How much they tortured me because of my love for you. So, yes, I do love you, Sammy, but I have no idea what that means anymore. I have no idea if I even can love you because of what they did. Not in the way that I want to." He took a breath and then four. 

He lowered his voice then as he said, "Do I want to try? Yes. Do I want to spend the rest of my life wanting to die because I will never find a shred of my own happiness? No. But you have to try and understand how fucking scared I am. I need you to be patient. I need a lot of things and while I'm "examining" if you're worth the risk, maybe you should examine if I'm worth the risk." 

He slapped his palm against his chest, his breathing heavy, his soul aching for that missing piece of him. He hadn't been sure how tonight would turn out. He knew it would be emotional and gut-wrenching. He hadn't expected them to...argue? Is that what they were doing? Sam slid down the wall by the bedroom door, his hands hiding his face, knees drawn up to support his arms. He took calming breaths as he heard Sy slowly approach him and kneel down. He felt another few tears drip down his face as he felt Sy's hands rest along his forearms and gently squeeze. 

"I'm sorry," came a rough whisper. "I'm sorry, Sy." Sam took another ragged breath as Sy leaned into him, his forehead resting against his forearms, his hands sliding up to Sam's shoulders. 

"This is hard for me, too. I've kept myself locked away. My emotions." Sy sat down in front of him, his legs beginning to go numb from kneeling, and heaved out a heavy sigh. "With as much as I've told Logan, especially in the beginning...there's so much I kept to myself." 

He paused and Sy brought his eyes upward, locking gazes with Sam. His expression of pleading heartbreak. "We've both been hurt and affected by what happened that night, Sy, and the years that followed it. Differently, I'll grant you that, but nonetheless. So while we're discussing what we need from the other, I request you allot me that same patience. This is new territory for me too, Sy. It's terrifying and it's painful and sometimes I may not know how to react. Sometimes my less rational and more emotional thoughts might occur and my own fears will run off with me, and I may not respond in a way that's conducive to your needs. Sometimes I may misunderstand...take something the wrong way...so please, Sy, understand and take into account that you weren't the only one destroyed that night." 

Sam looked away as his eyes began to glisten, held his breath for a count before releasing it, drawing another and repeating the process. He didn't want to break. Logically he knew that eventually, they would get back to a place where Sam felt he could show himself completely unguarded and allow the tears to free fall without reservation. But he didn't feel that time had yet come to pass. Things were still too new between them while the past was still too fresh. A deep wound that had festered within them both, leaving them broken and bleeding in very different ways.

Sy was ashamed to admit that he'd never truly considered how the situation had affected Sam. At least not tonight. He had over the last few months wondered if what differences he saw within Sam now were causal from that night, or just people changing over time from adolescence into adulthood. He had, in moments of clear thinking, pondered on the emotional upheaval that came after he left, and he knew logically that Sam hadn't come out unscathed. 

Sam had said that himself. I was never the same. But tonight he hadn't let that part of the equation into his mind, didn't consider how this conversation might affect Sam beyond the possibility of him being mad about what happened with a boy just as scared as he was over ten years ago. He hadn't considered how the rest of the story might affect Sam, how the news of where he was sent would be an extreme shock factor. He didn't take into account Sam's pain.

Why is that? 

Because, he reasoned, he'd never had anyone who he could possibly share the grief with. Shelly, while having been a huge help over the years to his emotional state, had not known and loved the boy he was before. Sy had had twelve years to come to terms with what happened. Sam had had twelve minutes. 

"I'm sorry, too," Sy finally said, his hands coming to grasp Sam's arms, their eyes meeting. "I should have thought about how this makes you feel beyond my own selfishness. I can't always say it'll be so, but I'll attempt to take that further into account next time." 

He sighed through his nostrils, his lips pursed. "Don't think I'm trying to use this as an excuse, 'cause I'm not, but...aside from Shelly, I've never told anyone what's happened to me. She met me a year after I left that place. The...vulnerability I faced with her isn't anything in comparison to you...because of our past relationship...because of how it ended...and because of that, I can't expect your reactions to be like hers were. You're...more emotionally invested...for lack of a better phrase because of our history than she is or was. You know what I mean? Not a slight on her, she's been a godsend..."

Sam nodded. "I know what you mean. And I understand what you're saying. I was there before all this. I knew you when you were still free and...alive. As did you. And we have to learn to...not necessarily let go of the us from back then, but we can't compare ourselves now to our younger selves. Because we're not those kids anymore. And we have to, like we've said before, get to know each other again. And while yes, we have a baseline, we basically have to start from scratch."

Sy nodded slightly. "I agree."

Taking a deep breath, Sam smiled, feeling more than a little relieved that didn't blow up in his face. "We'll both fuck up and upset each other and sometimes just not have patience that day...neither of us is perfect and we can't expect the other to always react the way we might need them to. You know?" Sam gently squeezed Sy's arms where he still held them.

"I do. This isn't going to be easy, Sammy."

"Nothing worth its grain of salt is easy. I don't expect things to pick up right back where we were before that night. We have shit to work through. Both together and individually. And I'm not naive enough to believe that it's all going to be a cakewalk. But it isn't a deterrent. Not to me."

"Me, either. I'm not deterred...just...scared."

"I'm not going to push anything on you. We'll just...go as we go. Can we agree on that?"

Sy nodded and wiped his eyes. "Okay. Can we maybe just...relax now? Maybe curl up and watch a movie or something?"

The grin that appeared to play at his lips was faint, but Sam's body seemed to sag as he released the tension in his muscles. 

"We can do that." He stood offering Sy his hand and helped him to stand. "Sy?" Their faces were millimeters apart, Sy's eyes captured by the intensity that burned in Sam's.

"Sammy?"

So close to him he could feel his breath against his face, Sam wanted so badly to press his lips against the soft ones he could almost still taste. 

"I've missed you so much. I always asked the universe, for the last twelve years, to bring you back to me. In some way. In any way. I won't let you go now." He stepped back, stopping himself from kissing those lips. "It would destroy me to lose you all over again." Sam gently ran his fingertips down Sy's cheek.

"Sammy?" Sy asked in a breathy whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Sam smiled, his hand sliding through his hair, resting on the back of Sy's neck. "God, yes."