"Hey," Sy was jolted from his thoughts as Shelly's soft voice permeated the quiet.

"Hey." He offered her a small smile as she sat next to him. He leaned into her, enjoying the unquestioned, needed comfort of her arm around him. She was quiet beyond her initial greeting, simply giving him what he needed; as she always did. "Sammy...he...told me something while we were gone...and it both terrified and elated me. And I don't know how to process it, or what to do about how...I don't know...how to handle it."

Shelly frowned slightly, trying to puzzle out what he meant. When she couldn't, she said, "What did he say?"

"That he loved Sammy like he was his own."

Shelly again frowned, this time in confusion. "I don't understand. Isn't that a good thing?"

Sy laughed with a despairing sound. "You would think so, huh? I just..."

"Just what?"

"They said our sins would be punished. They always told us that. If something happened to my son because I love Sammy...I would die, Shelly."

"Sy, you have to live your life. You can't continue to live like you have been living these last twelve years. They were brainwashing you. It's no more true than my parents saying my sister died because she had Sammy out of wedlock as punishment from God. And no less ridiculous." He nodded. "Sammy loves Sam. And he loves that little boy. And you. Be happy, Sy. Please. Allow yourself to be happy.”

"Sy?" Sam frowned. Sy had been distracted for days, a turmoil roiling behind his eyes that Sam couldn't read. The truth was, he was getting worried. He had no idea how to help, or where even to begin to try. This helplessness was beginning to eat at him from the inside.

"Hmm?" Sy didn't make eye contact, simply staring sightlessly before him.

"Sy," Sam tried again, gently setting his palm along Sy's cheek. The contact snapped Sy from his thoughts with such force, it rocked his entire being. His eyes were full of...something. Something he couldn't quite identify. "What's wrong?"

Sy shook his head. "Nothing." He closed his eyes against the look that overcame Sam's features. His chest tightened. He didn't want to lie, but he needed to work this out on his own.

"Something. Talk to me." It was a gentle request, worry lacing his tone.

"There's..." He was going to say there's nothing to talk about, but the words lodged in his throat, choking him with their deceit. "Sammy, please let it go."

Sam looked at him, his eyes reflecting the stab of rejection portrayed within that one sentence. Sy looked away. The pain Sy saw within Sam at his words made him ache bodily and soul-deep. 

"Right," Sam said as he leaned away from Sy, their distance growing. "I get it. Just do me a favor, Sy. Okay? This time when you leave, let me down easy." He stood. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Sy frowned, suddenly angry. "What the hell, Sammy? Let you down easy?" His anger died there, as did the volume of his voice. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

Sy looked at him with diligence, as if seeing him for the first time. His face sagged, the rings under his eyes were prominent from exhaustion. Why hadn't he noticed?

“Am I far off, Sy? Please, tell me I'm being paranoid. Please, tell me I'm wrong." He clenched his fists to control himself, his muscles tightening to the point of pain, vibrating from the strain.

Sy slowly stood from the couch and approached him. When he reached out, Sam backed away a step, his head slowly shaking back and forth. 

"Sammy." Sy took another step forward, provoking Sam to take three steps back. When his back hit the wall, he slid down it. When he looked back up, Sy saw the resignation Sam had been concealing for the last several days. Sy knelt down so that they were eye level, but didn't move closer. 

"You're wrong."

"Am I?" His voice shook but his eyes remained free of moisture.

"You're wrong," Sy reaffirmed. He closed his eyes momentarily before sitting down in front of Sam, crossing his legs underneath him. "I don't want to, nor do I plan to leave you. I’m fighting what I was taught in that place. I'm fighting it because I know they were wrong and I'm trying to process and overcome it. I'm sorry that I worried you."

"That…that your sins would be punished?" His voice almost sounded hollow, but Sy knew he was worried.

Sy closed his eyes. "Yes. And...and I'm scared that they might have been right. And it's stupid and ridiculous and I know that and I'm just trying to process what they said out of my head and follow my heart. And my heart has always been with you, Sammy." Sam looked at him, reading the desperate look his face expelled. The look of please believe me. And nodded.

Over the next passing weeks, Sam kept careful eyes on Sy. Sy noticed the (incognito) extra attention. He didn't let it bother him, but instead changed his perspective on the situation. And when Sam seemed to be staring at him too long, holding his hand too tightly, the look of hidden fear and insecurities showing through the stoic mask he tried to keep intact, Sy squeezed his hand back, smiled at or gently kissed him. Sy could see he was scared regardless of their previous conversation.

"Sammy?" They were sitting on Sam's bed, a bowl of popcorn between them, a movie playing in the background.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

Sammy smiled a half-grin, yet he almost looked relieved at the query, and nodded. "Of course."

Moving the bowl to the other side of Sam, Sy curled up into his side, his arm wrapping across Sam's abdomen, his hand grasping a handful of Sam's shirt. His heart and soul hurt. A dull throb before it finally shoots throughout his being, sharp and intense. It hit him suddenly as he met Sam's eyes at the inquiry.

He felt that Sam was tense underneath him, as if afraid to relax. As if he were afraid to trust the moment. Trust him. Sy pulled himself that much closer to him, held onto Sam that much tighter. He felt his eyes sting and pushed it back, keeping hold of his emotional stability, but only a minimal amount. He was so tired of breaking. So tired of being broken.

"I love you, Sammy." His voice was weak, almost desperate to be believed and Sam clearly heard it.

Sam closed his eyes, squeezing Sy into his side, his heart breaking the same as Sy's at that moment. "I love you, too."

"I hope so."

"What do you mean?" Sam’s voice had hurt hidden behind the indignation that was forefront.

Sy mentally kicked himself. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. Fuck. He shook his head. "Nothing."

Sam frowned. "You don't believe me?"

"I do believe you." Sy's tone was a low whisper, submissive, cowardly.

"But?" Sy shook his head again, feeling that minimalist control slipping. "Please, Sy." His voice broke the slightest bit with this plea. "Please don't keep me in the dark."

"I'm scared it isn't enough to make you stay. I'm scared that you're scared I'm gonna leave...again...and that you're going to think you need to...beat me to the punch...so to speak."

"I don't wanna leave you," Sam whispered.

"But you are, aren't you? You don't want to, but you can't handle me like this, can you? Is that why you've been looking at me like...God, I don't even know...like you know something you haven't told me." He paused. "I'm trying, Sammy."

"I know you are. I'm trying too, Sy. I'm not going anywhere. It's all hard for me, too." He sighed. "I don't think you're going to get scared and run off. It isn't my go-to. But, sometimes I dream about it. Everything is the same from that night, plus or minus a few details. It scares me. It...hurts...and sometimes when I wake up and you're not next to me, I wonder if it was really a dream...because when I wake up, I feel deflated. I feel like I did back then. I..." He paused momentarily. "It hurts that you...feel threatened that I love Sammy. That I want him to be mine as much as he's yours. Which is confusing because you said that you wanted that too. But, I mean...he called me 'Daddy' for Christ’s sake...and that feeling when he did...I want that all the time. I don't want to lose either of you. And I don't understand why you don't want that. And it hurts."

Sy looked at him, the TV long forgotten. "I do want that. I've always wanted that."

"Then why are you resistant?"

"I'm scared, Sammy.” Sy squeezed his eyes shut, fisted his hands in frustration, and pressed his face into Sam’s chest. He felt like Sam wasn’t listening, or not believing the things he was telling him. He knew that there was no way Sam could understand exactly what and to what extent his fears and trauma ran. “I'm scared of what they taught us would happen. I'm so happy...I'm so happy for the first time in over a decade...and that's terrifying. I'm not resisting...I'm cautious. I won't always be.”

"I do love you. I'm scared, too. I'm scared your fear will get the best of you and that'll make you leave me. Again, it’s not my go-to, but it is a fear. I'm scared I'm going to lose you all over again. And now Sammy, too. And I know that I wouldn't be able to go through that again...and that scares me."

"I know."

Sam’s voice became suddenly thick with emotion as he spoke his next words. He closed his eyes, his hand absently running up and down Sy’s arm. "To an extent, yes. But you don't know what happened after you left. The days and weeks and years that followed. You don't know what it did to me. And I'm...not blaming you...I don't blame you, I never did. But the fact remains. You had your horrors, Sy. But I had mine. No one really knows how bad it got. Not my brother, not anyone." He paused. "They’re things that no one else knows about. How close I came to dying. No one knew how bad I really got." He looked at Sy then, his eyes raw and unhidden. "So, no, to answer your previous question. I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to 'beat you to the punch' as you put it. I'm afraid you're going to leave, Sy. And I'm bracing for that impact. If you want complete honesty."

That night as Sam slept, Sy laid in his arms, his tears forceful, yet silent as he processed this new information.

It was a few days later that Sy approached Logan. He didn't know if he would get an answer but maybe Logan could provide the insight he needed.

"Hey."

Logan looked up from his computer, his fingers stilling on the keyboard. "Hey. What's up?"

"Well...I was just...I want to ask..." He stopped and bit his lip. "Nevermind. I-I'm sorry."

Logan sighed and closed his eyes for a split moment before, "Sy. Wait." Sy stopped, his feet halting before he slowly turned to face one of his former best friends. Logan had gotten up, rounding the desk to where only air separated them. "What did you want to ask?"

"Can we, um...sit?" He used the short time to move to the couch and sit to attempt to gather his thoughts about him. "I need to ask you a favor. And it isn't an easy request, but...can you...tell me what happened with Sammy after I left?"

"That night or in general?" Logan asked, his gaze directed at his folded hands.

"Both, I guess. He's eluded to me that things got pretty rough..."

Logan studied him a moment before speaking. "That's not really my story to tell, Sy. Why don't you ask him?" He did not speak with malice in his voice, but curiosity.

"I'm scared to bring it up."

Logan scrutinized him heavily before saying, "I can't tell you much, Sy. But what I can tell you is that after that night, he changed. For the first six months, he would break down at the drop of a dime. The first year, he couldn't say your name without freaking out. He would wake up screaming for you. He would tell me that he could feel that someone was hurting you. After two years, he started doing heroin and he started sleeping around. That's when I brought him here. He's never been the same. He's not the same. I thought..." He frowned, pausing.

"You thought what?"

"I thought that maybe I would see my brother again now that you've come back. But..." Logan laughed a laugh full of pain. "But the truth is, he's more insecure. He's scared. He's scared you're going to be taken from him. Somehow. Some way. But I also haven't seen him smile...really fucking smile in years...and then you came back. And while he may be scared, he's happy."

Sy sighed. "I didn't mean for all this. It wasn't my fault. He made me go. He took me away from my whole life." After a moment he said, "I just want to make it better for him."

Logan sighed lightly as he glanced back at who he once considered another brother. "Sy...believe it or not, this is better." He paused and looked at him. "To merely say it's been hard on him, is an understatement. Something...something broke within him the night you left. He had no shine to him anymore. No light. No life. There were a few times he ran away the first two years you were gone...he was determined to find you. When we brought him home after the third time of him running off is when he started doing heroin. So...believe me when I say that now is better."

He sat there, stunned. Logan watched Sy's face, the devastation that consumed his features.

 "Anything else you want to know...the finer details...you'll have to get from Sam."

Sy took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Do you think he'll talk about it?" His voice was strained, his throat clogged. Sam had told him he had his own horrors...but he had never been able to discover what those particular horrors had been.