Sy’s eyes flew open, his breath coming in short gasps as he sat up quickly in his bed. He looked around and instinctively knew that there was no one else in the room. His pulse was beating rapidly, and he could hear his blood racing through his veins. Calming his breathing, he stood, scrubbed his hands over his face to dispel the feelings that whatever he was dreaming of pulled up, and left his room. 

He was searching for Sam and he noticed the house was dark, with only a single lamp in the living room switched on. To his right he heard the faint sounds of voices and followed it. He needn’t go far. The sliding, glass door to the back porch was left open not quite half-way. Sy guessed it was in case Sammy woke up, they’d hear him. He had every intention of making his presence known before he heard Sam and Shelly’s conversation and stopped.

 “Wow. So…what happened after they came back?”

Sy studied Sam before he answered. He looked upset. His knee was bouncing as if he were filled with restless anxiety as he tried to suss out his feelings into words. “Introductions went around. Sammy was on my lap, upset because he knew something was going on. He told me that he didn’t want Sy to “forget about him again.” It broke my fucking heart. Anyway, Casey asked who Sammy was and Sy said ‘my son’. And it…bothered me. And maybe it shouldn’t bother me that he didn’t say ‘our son’, but it does. And I can’t figure out if I have a right to be upset. I mean…the kid calls me ‘Daddy’ all the time now, for fucks sake. I can’t just ignore that. Especially when I feel like it…” Sy heard the trimmer in his voice and felt a pang in his chest. He frowned at himself. How could he have been so careless? It wasn’t something he even considered. But now that he was considering it, he felt like an asshole.  “Fuck…” He looked back at Sam as he brought his hand up and rubbed his shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself in check.

He looked to Shelly as she started speaking, her eyes reflecting the worry that was clearly in her voice. “You have every right to feel the way you do, and your feelings are very valid. Knowing Sy like I do, I don’t think that he was trying to be mean or exclude you as Sammy’s parent, but more of a habitual thing. He’s been saying ‘my son’ for Sammy’s whole life. I mean, I’ve been there and helped, but I’m not his parent, I’m his aunt. You know? So…I don’t think he was trying to hurt you by it.”

Sam nodded in agreement. Sy wished he could see his face. “Neither do I. Which is why I’m having a hard time with being so bothered by it.”

“Have you tried talking to Sy about it yet?”

Sam shook his head and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “No. He’s got so much shit going on right now…with his mother and sister popping up randomly and out of nowhere and the shit with Sammy last week, to this Casey guy popping up randomly and out of nowhere, he…he’s already overwhelmed. It’s just not the right time right now.” 

Shelly nodded her head thoughtfully. “That’s true. Just as long as you’re not using all these things as an excuse to avoid it. Talk to him about it eventually. Things will settle down again. They always do.”

Sy made sure to keep to the shadows of the kitchen as he listened in on their conversation. He almost felt bad for still standing here, but couldn’t tear himself away. “I know. My fear is that…that he'll always consider Sammy only to be his and never ours.”

Slipping back away from the door, Sy made his way back to the bedroom. As he covered back up and sank into his pillow, his mind whirled around what he had overhead. He analyzed Sam’s pain over the situation, his love for the boy across the hall, and his own feelings about the subject.

He knew well that Sam loved Sammy like a son. Like he’d been there for his entire life instead of the last six months. He knew his feelings in the moments when he found the two of them sleeping, Sam always protecting the child from falling. He noticed the smiles that lit up both of their faces when they spent time together. 

He reflected on Sammy and his love for his namesake. How Sammy felt safe with him and could never get enough of him. He thought about how Sammy always ran to Sam whenever Sy scolded him and smiled as he thought about how Sam always responds. He comforts the boy, drying his tears with love and reassurance, while always re-enforcing whatever it was his father had scolded him for in the first place.

He thought about all this and a thousand things more before he heard the bedroom door finally open and Sam sneaking in with all the grace of an elk, in the attempt not to wake him that surely would have failed had he been asleep.

 “I was wondering how long you were going to stay up,” Sy said as he wrapped himself around Sam once he was lying down and comfortable. 

Sam smiled, Sy could hear it in his voice. “I didn’t know you were awake or I would have come in sooner.” He kissed him gently on the lips and then the forehead. “Bad dream?”

Sy shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t remember it. Just couldn’t go back to sleep afterward.”

Sy tightened his grip comfortingly, kissing his forehead again. “You okay?”

“I don’t know. Today was...it was all for nothing…” Sy’s voice went down to a low whisper as a realization occurred to him. 

Sam frowned, confused at the lack of complete sentences. “Wait…today was all for nothing? I don’t understand.”

Sy shook his head. “No.” He sat up then, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Resting his chin on his knees he shook his head. “David Negal told me that I killed him. We had been there for six months and we were all close to breaking. We tried to hang tough and resist what they were doing to us…but we were all getting weaker in our resolve. Then one morning after breakfast he came into the cabin. We thought we were going to be doing the same thing as we had done the previous days, but…we were wrong…”

They all stood and gathered into a group as they heard the cabin door begin to open. They were haggard by this point, verbally beaten down with speeches of how the devil had captured their souls, and they could be exercised out. By now, with several failed attempts of exorcisms, they each were left in tears.

The night before they were all gathered in the common room, dinner had yet to be served. Each was gathered around Casey as he cried, his soul suffering. They tried to lend their combined comfort as he continued to ask them what was wrong with him. “Why am I not better by now?” he asked them, his face hidden, but his tears evident. “They said that they could make me better! Why am I not better?” He repeated this mantra of questioning amalgamated with self-deprivation. 

This scene was not the first of its kind within this cabin, or even within this group. At one point or another they had all had a similar experience, and each time the other three were there to lend what support they could. 

As Negal approached them, he could see that he was breaking their spirits and inwardly he smiled. He watched with pleasure as they huddled closer together, as if this could protect them somehow. “All of you, follow me.”

They were confused, but did as instructed. They had never been taken all as a group prior. They were always taken one or two at a time. They walked silently, anxiety and fear for what was coming next creeping through their bodies like the Creeping Charlie that grew through the grass. 

They lined up side by side when they arrived in a field more than one hundred yards from the cabins. They watched with wide, silent eyes as Negal picked up a rifle that had been lying on the ground next to where he stopped walking. He watched their faces as he brought up the gun and slung it over his shoulder by the strap. He looked at them each, pointedly, seeing which one would break eye contact the quickest before he started to speak. 

“I’m going to ask you a couple questions. Nod your heads in response, do not speak.” His eyes shifted between all of them, noting their nods. “Do you feel like rape is wrong?” A nod of each head. “Good. Do you feel murder is wrong?” He was pleased that there was a nod of four heads and that inner smile widened as he took his next breath. “Being gay is just a wrong as rape and murder. In being gay, you may as well be murdered. Casey. Come here.” Casey instantly paled, terrified as to what was going to happen next. In high hesitation, he stepped forward, stopping once he was directly in front of Negal. 

Handing Casey the rifle, he said, “Have you ever shot a weapon before?”

“Yes. I used to go hunting with my dad.”

David Negal had known that he was the weakest of the four and the easiest to break. He’d been watching with glee as he slowly crushed the life from him. He also had the foresight that this would be his last straw. “Good. Then I don’t have to explain the mechanicals of it. Look at your friends over there.” Casey did as told, his eyes shifting between each of them. “Now…pick one of them and kill them, killer.”

Sy, Adrian and Julie all tensed as his words floated over to them. Casey blanched, dropping the gun with a cry of disbelief. “What?”

“You heard what I said. You’re already in line with murderers and child molesters. Pick up the gun and shoot one of them.” Casey stared at him, his eyes watering as fear coursed through his entire being. He picked up the gun with shaking hands. “Good. Now tell me which one.”

Casey looked at all of them, looked at their horrified faces. He shook his head. “I can’t.”

At Casey’s disobedience, Negal pulled a pistol from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at Casey’s head. “Do it. Or I’ll kill you. Point the gun at Sy and fire it.”

Sy didn’t say a word. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t breathe as Casey, sobbing so hard there was no way he could properly aim, picked up the rifle and pointed it at his best friend. As Casey squeezed the trigger, Sy screamed and ducked, his body going flat as his arms went over his head. He heard a click and nothing more. He waited to hear the telltale sound of a loud BANG! as the gun went off. He waited for the pain of the bullet seering through his internal organs. He felt nothing but his heart beating wildly and after several moments he finally looked up.

As his eyes landed on Casey, who was on his knees, his hands covering his face, Casey started to scream. 

Sy shouldered the tears away from his face and took a deep breath. Sam was sitting sideways in the bed now facing him. Sam said not a word, as there was nothing that he could say to make any of what he was being told better. He could do naught but listen, occasionally rubbing a hand over his back or leaning forward to kiss his shoulder in silent comfort. 

Sam’s heart ached for the pain that filled Sy’s face each time he recounted the horrors that happened in that place, but he knew that he would always listen. As he was doing now. 

When Sy started to speak again, his eyes were forward and far into the past. “It was that night that I woke up to Casey 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."

“How do you not hate me, Sy? If that gun had been loaded, I could have killed you today.” A sob completed the end of his statement, his guilt over what had happened consuming him.

“Nothing that he makes us do is our fault. Would you blame me if the situation were reversed?” He shook his head no, wiping his eyes and face. “Well, I don’t blame you, either. And besides…he had a gun to your head. What else could you do?”

“Die.” He said it so casually that it took Sy by surprise.

“Don’t talk like that,” Sy said gently, setting his palm against Casey’s cheek. 

"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.

The next morning after breakfast, it was the same routine. They gathered and Negal entered the cabin. The look on his face was one of pure hatred, and the stench of it leaked from his pores. There was something about his eyes at that point, dark and gleeful, that made Sy shudder. “Julie, Adrian,” he began, looking at the girls, “you two are to stay here today. Enjoy the day off.” Then his beady eyes shifted to Casey and Sy and the level of anger and disgust that was directed at them made them both shrink back. “You two, come with me now.”

When they entered the cabin they were terrified of the unknown. They had no idea what they were in for, but they knew that it wouldn’t be good. “Go stand over there.” He pointed to the center of the room. The boys did as told and he stood directly in front of them. “Strip.” Neither boy moved, far too shocked to immediately obey his command. “I said strip!” he bellowed loudly. Casey and Sy sprang into action, their hands trembling along with the rest of them as they took off their clothes. 

“If either of you think that you can get away with fucking each other in my cabin, you’ve got something else coming. I told you that when and if you leave here, these disgusting urges you have will be gone. That I could cure you. But if I can’t cure you...I’ll just have to come up with a different way to release you from these demons inside you.”

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 David Negal approach Casey and gave him a shock of electricity with a cattle prod. Casey screamed. It was a scream unlike Sy had ever heard before. When Negal pulled the prod back, Casey collapsed bodily to the floor, gasping for breath.

 “Stand up,” Negal demanded, leering at Casey in disgust. Slowly Casey got to his feet and as he did so, Negal turned his attention to Sy. “You keep your eyes on that screen.” Sy instantly looked at the screen.

The movie played on, the scene changing to the two men having sex. Sy watched as the man on bottom spread his legs open wider, giving his partner deeper access to his body, his moaning echoing with his pleasure. As he watched Sy felt the flush of hot arousal course through him and his hand itched to move to enact some of the pleasure he witnessed. 

Suddenly white hot pain shocked his system. The scream that flowed forth from him was silent, his mouth hanging open, as if in an old, silent film. The electric shock that flowed through him, he felt in every nerve ending within his body. He could feel his body convulsing, his eyeballs felt like they were expanding and ready to explode, and his breath no longer flowed.

Like with Casey, when the prod was pulled from his body, he collapsed, gasping and in pain. And like with Casey, Negal demanded that he stand back up and watch the screen.

By the time Sy made his way to his feet, he heard screaming to his left as the prod connected with Casey once more. “You disgusting little mother fucker! You don’t learn do you?” At the conclusion of these words, Negal reared back his foot and kicked Casey in the ribs, making him land on his back. Casey groaned in pain from the kick and then began screaming bloody murder as the cattle prod was touched to Casey’s balls. Negal left the prod until the boy passed out from the pain and then a little longer. He enjoyed watching the boy’s unconscious body flop around like a fish out of water. 

Negal then turned his attention back to Sy. “You like what you see on that screen, huh?” Sy, tears pouring from his eyes, said nothing. When he repeated the question, he took a step forward, the prod aimed at his privates.

“Yes.” Sy began sobbing harder, shame filling him as he was hard again. Negal smiled and Sy was once again writhing as electricity shot through him.

“This went on for days. Every day he would take us to that cabin and he would shock us like that. At the end of the fifth day is when I found Casey.” Sy looked over at Sam, his eyes red and his face wet. “There was so much blood, Sammy. I was covered in it.” A sob that he couldn’t stop came rushing from his throat. 

Sam pulled him slightly into him, Sy wrapping his arms around him, his head coming to rest against Sam’s chest, braced in the crook of his own elbow. “I’ve got you, Sy. I’m right here. You’re safe. It’s alright.” Sam swallowed his own emotions this tale provoked within him. The pain that automatically came when he knew Sy was hurting. His conversation with Shelly earlier now and for the moment far from his mind as he listened to what Sy told him.

Wrapped in Sam’s protective embrace, Sy kept speaking, “The next day is when we were told that he was dead. And he found every way to blame me he could fathom. He made me believe that it was my fault. For all this time…and it was all for nothing. He knew that Casey survived and still he made me believe that I killed him. That I was a murderer. And it was all a lie. He knew he was alive, Sammy. He knew…” And he could say no more as he, for the first time, released some of the guilt he had always carried with him since that day.

Sam held him close, shouldering away his own emotion, unable to hold back the few tears that fell. There was nothing he could say to make this better. So he said nothing. Simply tightened his grip around Sy and held on.