“Sy? What are you doing?” Sam drew Sy’s arms down so he could see his face. “Baby, what?” Sy’s gaze flickered over to his son’s bed. Turning, Sam did the same. “Sammy’s fine. He’s fine. Come on. Let’s not wake him up.”

Detangling his hands from Sam’s, Sy bent over his son’s sleeping form, his hand going gently to his chest. Sy breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the boy’s chest rise and fall in his slumber. Kissing his forehead, he then stood to his full height and followed Sam from the room.

No sooner did Sam shut their bedroom door behind them, did Sy lose what control he’d gained. Doubling over as if in great pain, Sy’s mouth hung open in a silent scream that rocked his soul. Sy had the vague recollection that his knees were no longer holding his weight and he was beginning to fall. It struck him moments later that he did not hit the floor, but instead was being held in place by solidly supporting and familiar arms.

Slowly, Sam lowered them both to the ground, cradling Sy between his thighs, Sy’s face pressed into Sam’s bicep. Sam’s left leg was bent at the knee, his foot flat on the floor. His right leg was also bent at the knee, but parallel with the ground, both supporting each of their weight. Slowly Sam began to rock them, as they did with Sammy, in a calming method that always seems to work with an adult or child. Sam’s left arm came across Sy’s shoulders and along his back, while his right came under Sy, wrapping around his chest and ribs; holding him close until eventually he’d calmed down.

“Better?” Sy nodded, but he didn’t move away from Sam’s protective hold, nor did he speak. “You wanna tell me what happened?” Sy’s entire body tensed at the question, curling up tighter in Sam’s arms. “Alright. Alright. It can wait. Sh. Sh. It’s alright,” he whispered, not wanting to further upset the man in his arms.

With a hard exhale that came out as shaky as he was, he said, “It was Negal. The dream was so real. I was a kid again. Back at the camp. Negal had me in my stateroom. He was…God…Sammy…” 

Sam tightened his grip a bit more and kissed the back of his head. “I’m right here.”

Closing his eyes, Sy continued, “While he was…was…taking me, I was staring at Casey’s body. His blood was everywhere. And then everything changed. He’d taken Sammy. I could hear him screaming in pain. Screaming for me to help him. But I couldn’t find him. And when I finally got him…Negal had killed him. Please don’t ask me how he did it.” This request was spoken so quietly, that Sam had scarcely heard it. 

“I won’t ask you anything. You tell me when and if you’re ever ready to tell me.”

Sy didn’t respond thinking that it was too horrible of a scenario to even contemplate saying out loud, let alone actually describing such a scene. Instead, he said, “Sometimes I can’t stop feeling like he’s just going to pop out of a crowd or from around the corner or something…and he’s going to get me again.”

Sam noted the child-like way he sounded in that moment. How the fear of one man could reduce another back into that of a small child…it was a power, Sam thought, that no one had the right to possess. “He can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again, my love.”

Sy remembered him saying that once before. He didn’t question it then, being too caught up with where he was and what he was doing. But this time he did question it. “How do you know?”

“When you first told me that you wanted to go back there…I did some research on the place. It was something that I had avoided pointedly since you told me where you went. I honestly didn’t feel like I was ready to know exactly what went on there. But I knew I needed to know at least the basics of what they did and who they were. While I was digging around, I found out that David Negal is dead. He’s dead, Sy. He can’t ever hurt anyone again.”

Sy’s eyes welled up with tears once again at the news. “He’s really dead?”

“Yes.” With the softest of touches, Sam wiped his cheeks.

The relief from the news was painted all over Sy’s face as Sam explained the mysterious circumstances surrounding David Negal’s demise. As Sam’s words fully registered in Sy’s mind, he blinked, not wanting to hope only for his hopes to be shattered. “I can’t believe that he’s dead.” The look of suspicion didn’t diminish even as he thought about it. For so long he had held Negal as a great evil god-like man, immortalized within his cruelty and evil. Cruelty and evil masquerading as salvation.

Sam kissed him then, slow and gentle until a smile spread across Sy’s lips. “I swear to you. I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure.”

“I love you, Sammy. Thank you for telling me.”