There was nothing but darkness and rage. But as long as the rage was there, Sam could still move, function. His mind could detach and let his body wander aimlessly in the rain.
He didn't know what to do with himself outside his torment, where to go, what to say, what to think.
There was nothing there anymore, no memory beyond what had just happened, no feeling except for being unloved.
Always unloved. Always unlovable. What was wrong with him?
You had your part in this, too.
It was his fault, but not in the way Christine meant. He'd been too naive, too inexperienced, too willing to succumb to a love he thought would last for ever. But now, when the final proof of how misguided he'd always been presented itself, he realized everything had been misplaced.
Christine didn't deserve this. His tears, the pain inside him, all the effort he'd put into their relationship. Always giving, never taking.
If you didn't give me what I needed, I would get it somewhere else.
The anger bubbled up again. Everything. He'd given her everything. And in return she'd stabbed him in the back, through the heart, and refused to take any kind of responsibility.
And it clogged his throat and made it hard to breathe.
He dropped on a random bench at a bus stop and sunk his head in his hands. They were shaking and there was a bitter taste in his mouth that made him nauseous. A heaviness settled over his body as his mind made desperate attempts to keep him functional.
He didn't want to be functional. He wanted to snap. For once in his life, he wanted to lose control and let it all out. For once in his life, he wanted things to go his way.
No more pain, no more sacrifice, no more tears.
A scream escaped his lips, filled with fury, and rang into the night.
Don't snap. Don't rage. Don't lose it.
Fuck this. Fuck this to hell and back.
He got up and started walking again, the nervous energy inside him needing an outlet beside twitching. Walk it off. It seemed to work for Tom. His knuckles throbbed both from knocking that traitorous asshole out and from damaging school propriety. He hated himself for it, but he wished he'd hurt her, too.
They'd been in front of his old locker. The place Lisa had introduced him to Christine, where he'd been so stupidly smitten with her, not seeing the snake underneath the beauty.
There had been so many signs. In her attitude, in her behavior, but he'd been too blinded by teenage love to see it. Like a stupid puppy. Like a rain-washed pigeon, feeding off the crumbs she threw him.
He was so pathetic. So, so pathetic.
Christine was right. This was his fault. A misery of his own making. He just wanted to be like the others, feel the happiness they did with their girlfriends. Jerry had been much braver. He'd detected the toxicity in Tina and walked away. Didn't sacrifice himself to keep her in his life, didn't alter his personality to suit her. He saw a lost cause and let it go.
Sam hadn't. But Christine was smarter, always sensing when she messed up, always changing to show a bit of remorse, to appear to try and fix it just to sink back into old habits. He hated nagging? She stopped it and used more subtle methods to get what she wanted. He didn't care about his wardrobe? She'd started throwing his clothes away, buying him new ones in their stead to get him to dress the way she wanted.
She was much smarter. Smarter than him. Why did she do it, though? Why put up with him, put so much effort into fooling him if she didn't want it to work? If she didn't love him? Because there was no way she did.
The image of her and Harry kissing had his mind churning again, sent a new jolt of pain through him, so powerful that it knocked him off his feet. His knees hit muddy ground and his hands followed soon. His head lowered and he found himself staring at mud.
Mud, because that was what he was. And because, as fate would have it, he'd ended up in a park. At least it wasn't the one next to his family's house, the one in which he'd jog just for the chance to see her for a few seconds. But this one wasn't much better. It was the park closest to his new place. He could tell because it had higher ground and a platform that overlooked the rest of the park and part of the city.
The lights shone brilliantly through the rain. He loved this place. It was where he jogged now, whenever he got the time. Fortunately, he'd never brought Christine here, but his legs were taking him home.
He didn't want to go home. Her stuff was in there. She could be in there. That was no longer his home, it was hers. She'd taken everything away from him, including his home and his sanity. His throat was raw and he had no idea if he'd been screaming without realizing or crying or what. There was so much water on his face, he couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.
Pull yourself together. He couldn't even tell if he was crying. He was so detached from himself, he couldn't even recognize his own body's signals. She'd fired his brain. Fried his senses.
How can she have this much power over me?
His secret life. She knew about it, she accepted it and showed as much support as she could. In the mess that was his life, Christine was always there, a constant tie to normality. Someone who he thought would assure him he still fitted in, that he could play this double life game and win. She was his rock, his link to reality. The one who was supposed to hold him up and tell him he was good enough. They'd started this together, after all.
She'd always been the opposite. He'd always felt inadequate with her, like he was almost there and one more tiny push, tiny change in his personality would finally gain her approval.
He never did. It was never enough.
And it wasn't just about her. It wasn't just her cheating. It was Harry. It was Lisa probably knowing all about it because she was the one who set Harry and Christine up, so she knew they'd been involved. Knew and never told him. They all did.
It was betrayal in its purest form. It was crushing his belief in love, wasting his time. Eating his life away. Digging her claws inside his chest, pulling his heart out and destroying it in her hand. Taking his mind along for the ride. Making him hate himself. Killing his hope.
His hands rose out of of the mud and tightened against the banister of the lookout point. He pulled himself up, out of the puddle, his jaw tight and tense. His teeth hurt, his brain hurt. Everything hurt. But as he looked straight down, for the first time, the void didn't knock the air out of him. There was no more air, no more heart to beat erratically.
No more life worth living. The void wasn't worse than this.
A tug in his chest, a different type from the murderous one constantly there, cleared his mind for the fraction of a second. Tom.
Shit! He needed to get out of there. He needed to be with people before he did something stupid in a moment of weakness. Because she wasn't worth it. He'd deal with this empty shell, fix it. But there would be nothing left to fix if he destroyed it.
So he turned around and started walking again, this time focusing on every step, forcing his body to take him somewhere he could feel safe, to people who would pick up the pieces. All he had to do was reach them.
Time was weird, warping around him, making everything seem short and long at the same time. So even if every step seemed to last a lifetime and take all the effort in the world, it took what felt like seconds to wind up in front of Jimmy's door. The closest safe place.
Sam rang the doorbell once, twice, three times, then started banging his fist against the door, the despair ever-growing inside of him. He tried to remember the world outside his own head. Could they be out? Didn't Jimmy mention they had some sort of plans? Didn't he--
"Alright already," Jimmy said from behind the door, the lock already clicking. "Where the hell's the fire?"
Sam stepped back the moment the door opened, his eyes widening in shock, taking in the annoyance on his brother's face. He only wore a pair of boxer shorts, his hair was messier than usual and there was a haze in his eyes he'd never seen before. The skin on his chest was a little reddish.
"I'm sorry..." Sam took another step back. "I interrupted..."
Jimmy's expression morphed into one of concern as he took Sam in. His eyes also lost the haze in them and he looked fully alert. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"It's nothing, I shouldn't have come. I just..."
Jimmy grabbed his arm and pulled him inside before he could let out another word. "You look like shit. It's not nothing."
Without further ado, he dragged Sam to the left, into the small kitchen that was part of the much vaster open space. In a matter of seconds, Jimmy forced his butt on a chair, propped his hands on the table and leaned towards him.
"You were supposed to be at that ball thing at school."
Sam nodded, not sure what else to do.
"Were you attacked?"
Of course Jimmy's mind would go to an outer enemy. He just shook his head and realized that his brother had prepared a watch protocol lecture in case of a positive answer. Once he denied it, Jimmy's features softened.
"What happened, Sam?"
Sam opened his mouth, but no words would come out. His throat really was raw and a shiver overtook him. The cold water sipped through his clothes, freezing his skin. He didn't want to say anything, just sit there. So he put his head on the table and his arms over it, shutting out the light and his concerned brother.
"Wrong house to mope in, Sam," Jimmy said, grabbing his wrist and pulling hard enough to lift him off the table and half his body off the chair.
Yes, true. If he wanted sympathy, he should've gone to Jerry's place, except this place had been the closest.
"Fucking proximity," he mumbled.
Jimmy let him go immediately. "You're swearing. Which means whatever happened is fucked." He scrunched his face in concentration. "Any of the others hurt?"
Sam shook his head again and lay it back on the table, though this time he left it uncovered. He didn't want to be yanked up like a puppet again. This deflection game was good at keeping him alert and away from the swirling darkness inside him.
"Are you hurt?"
That was a tricky question, so he hesitated not sure which answer was true. Both were, he guessed. Because even if there wasn't a scratch on his body except for the one caused by the bomb, this pain couldn't all be in his head.
Jimmy read his hesitance like only a brother and best friend could. "Christine?"
The name made him wince because it was proof she actually existed, that she wasn't just a demon of destruction inside his head.
"What did she do?" Jimmy's tone was filled with muted anger.
Sam opened his mouth, but he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Letting it all out was maybe the best way to go, but it would set off a chain of events he didn't feel like he could face.
The disgust on Jimmy's face only intensified as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "It's bad, isn't it? Would you like to tell everyone at once?"
That wasn't a bad idea. He'd avoid having to repeat it four times and he actually wanted the others there. Tom because he could understand the torment inside him best, Kyle because he could always make him feel safe, and Jerry because he needed the support and affection.
Jimmy was already doing his job. He was the problem solver. So he leaned over the table and activated the danger signal on Sam's watch.
In a second, his own buzzed and started blinking a red light. A moment later there was a crash in the bedroom and Jessie came charging out, wearing only a checkered shirt that was obviously not hers.
"Jimmy, Sam's in trouble! We have to--" She froze when she noticed Sam was in her kitchen. "Oh. What happened?"
"You shouldn't have done that," Sam said. His voice came out rough and a little slurred as if he were drunk. He wished he were. That this was all drunken paranoia and he could go home and sleep it off.
"Yes, I should have," Jimmy countered. "This is serious." He turned to Jessie. "Let's make some tea. Everyone will be here soon."
Jessie nodded and headed for the stove while Jimmy grabbed the kettle from a cabinet above the sink and filled it with water. Sam wished she'd put on a pair of pants because even if the shirt covered her appropriately, it was just a reminder of what he'd interrupted. Which in turn reminded him what Christine had been doing behind his back.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, Jessie," he still mumbled, wanting to be polite.
"Don't be silly," Jessie said with a wave of her hand. "We were done anyway."
Jimmy smirked as he crouched and started searching for something else in one of the cabinets. Sam just watched them roaming around the kitchen, such a normal, happy couple. Two people who loved each other and only wanted to make each other fly. The ache in his heart intensified and he was tempted to get up and leave.
"Here." Jessie placed a mug filled with tea in front of him.
"And this is my contribution," Jimmy said, coming up with a bottle of bourbon and pouring some in his tea. "Irish."
"Jimmy, I'm not sure this is the best time to give him alcohol."
"Are you driving?" Jimmy asked, and the moment Sam shook his head, poured a bit more spirit into the mug. "Then it is the best time."
Sam had to agree. He wanted to numb his brain out, so what he regretted most was that the tea was hot and he couldn't just snatch the bottle out of Jimmy's hand and drain it all.
But Jimmy was fast and apparently a mind reader, because he tossed it to Jessie who caught it in midair. "Yuck. Smells awful."
Sam only then realized the oddity of Jimmy handling alcohol what with his intolerance. Of actually having bourbon in his house seeing as Jessie didn't seem like the heavy drinking type either. Not like it mattered. He focused on his tea and blew into it.
Jessie put the bottle away, squeezed Sam's shoulder and headed for Jimmy. Sam watched her stopping in front of his brother, whispering something to him. Jimmy frowned as if giving her words thought, but Sam couldn't help but notice the subtle things.
Like how Jimmy's hand settled on her hip, how she leaned towards him to whisper, the afterglow surrounding both of them. The way they came closer as they talked, ending with Jessie leaning against him, with him kissing her behind the ear.
Sam looked away, the pain in his chest intensifying. He gritted his teeth trying not to get angry, to understand that it was their place, that they had no idea what had happened to him, that he'd interrupted a tender moment between them.
"Sorry, Sam," Jessie said, drawing his attention back to them. "Didn't mean to be insensitive. It's just a force of habit."
He just nodded and was fortunately spared more awkward conversation once the front door opened and Tom and Angie charged in holding hands, bringing with them a different kind of awkwardness.
Sam's stomach sunk again. They were both disheveled and out of breath, hair messy, clothes on backwards or inside out.
"Not you too," he groaned, sinking his head in his hands.
"Not us...? Oh," Tom said, his eyes landing on almost-naked Jimmy and Jessie.
"Never mind that!" Angie said. "What happened? Why did you activate the danger signal? Where's your phone?"
Sam patted his pocket out of reflex, but he had no idea where his phone was. Maybe in the car. Maybe he'd lost it entirely. Not like he gave a shit at the moment so he just shrugged.
Tom elbowed her in the ribs and she winced and gave him the stink eye. The moment she turned back to Sam, her expression changed into one of worry.
Sam's gaze moved from her to Tom. His twin's face was twisted in pain, as if he could detect the anguish inside Sam. Of course he could, Sam had counted on it.
"Oh, Sam, what happened?" He sat on the chair opposite from him and reached his hand across the table without touching him.
Sam had no idea how to answer that, so he just swallowed heavily.
"He said he'd tell us all at once," Jimmy said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.
Tom threw him a fleeting glance. "Mind putting some pants on, Romeo?"
"As long as you do up yours, Juliette."
Tom looked down and cursed under his breath as he started arranging his clothes properly. Angie giggled next to him, apparently unaware that her t-shirt was on backwards. The situation would've been really funny in normal circumstances, but all the cuteness was making Sam want to throw up.
"He's right, hottstuff," Jessie mumbled. "We should put some clothes on. Especially before Jerry gets here."
Jimmy nodded. "You go first then." And he gave her a light slap on the bottom.
"Freaking seriously?" Sam grumbled as Tom snickered.
Jimmy winced as though only then did he realize what he'd done. "Sorry. Reflex."
"You really need to work on your impulse control there, Jimmy," Angie said, sitting next to Tom and propping one of her knees over his, as if she wanted to climb into his lap.
"So do you," Jimmy replied, waving his hand to indicate that she should get off. "No cutsey couples stuff in front of the heartbroken."
The affirmation made Angie and Tom focus on Sam again. Angie turned pale, but a weird glint appeared in Tom's eyes, one that resembled the raging feeling inside Sam.
"It was her then?" he asked, his voice harsh.
Sam just nodded and propped his head back on the table. Had his brothers always been like that? So touchy feely, so blatantly and embarrassingly in love? Was he only noticing now because he was indeed heartbroken?
"While we wait," Angie said, "could you have a look at my watch? I messed it up during the whole Sarajevo thing and the tracker on it isn't working."
Jimmy frowned and sat at the table next to them, taking the watch from her. He pulled a box full of tiny screwdrivers out of one of the drawers, because where else would he keep them, and opened up the back.
"Yes, please fix that, because it's so annoying not to know where she is," Tom said, rolling his eyes.
"You're such a control freak," Angie said, slapping his shoulder lightly.
"Just want to make sure you're safe, babe."
"Don't babe me in front of Sam, babe."
Sam groaned and put his hands over his head again, blocking out the sound of their voices. They got the message because they all fell silent.
"Huh, this is tricky," Jimmy mumbled. "I need more tools and the magnifying glass to work out what's wrong. You'll need to bring it to the Agency lab. Your GPS isn't working."
"Then it's mostly useless," Angie huffed. "What good does it do if I signal danger without you guys knowing where I am. Just keep it."
"I won't just keep it," Jimmy mumbled. "Unless this doesn't work either." He tweaked something inside then turned the watch over and closed the clasp.
Sam raised his head just as Jimmy's watch buzzed louder than ever and he sucked air through his teeth. It kept buzzing as the dial went from deeper red to pitch black and back, Angie's name flashing on the screen.
"Shit, this could wake you from the dead." He shut off the signals on both watches. "Have it back. Apparently the death warning still works."
"That was morbid as fuck," Tom mumbled as Angie took the watch back with a shaky hand and strapped it on.
"Be grateful that I rerouted it to mine only, or all of your hands would be tingling right now."
"Not to mention you would've scared a lot of people," Angie muttered.
Sam leaned his forehead against the table again, hoping he'd never see that signal again.
The door opened and everyone jumped.
"Jimmy, what are you doing? Put clothes on!"
Sam's head shot up as Jerry made his way inside the kitchen, fully dressed and functional, scrunching his nose at his twin.
"I'm sure Angie and Kay don't want to see that." Then he turned to Sam with his usual panicked expression, the one that reminded him most of childhood. "You look awful. What happened?"
"We'll get to that as soon as Kyle gets here," Jimmy answered. "And I'll put clothes on as soon as Jessie is out."
"Kyle's running late?" Jerry asked, surprised. "Since when?"
Since he was probably doing exactly what everyone else was and they were the third couple he'd interrupted. Sam just wanted to scream, but was spared when Kyle and Kay came in, shutting the door behind them.
They both looked a little sleepy, but other than that, their clothes were put on right, their outfits of blue jeans and black band t-shirts matching. The perfect image of the perfect couple and the only one that didn't have Sam wanting to grind his teeth until they turned to dust.
"Kid?" Kyle dropped his helmet in the hall and charged into the kitchen.
His eyes shot from one person to the other, stopping on Jimmy who just shrugged, and then focused on Sam again.
"So I'm probably the fifth person asking this, but what happened? You look like crap."
The fact that Kyle censored himself almost made Sam start crying. It was a consideration he rarely showed to anyone these days and it was more that than anything which made him realize how worried everyone was about him. Which, after witnessing the death signal, was so stupid since nothing had actually happened to him. He was alive and whole. At least on the outside. But did the inside matter that much?
"I..." He bit his lip so hard, the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
"You don't have to hurry," Jerry said, taking over the kitchen and placing mugs of tea on the table. "You just take your time. Especially because Jimmy really needs to put clothes on."
"I brought some out for him," Jessie said, throwing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt at her boyfriend. Her hair was up in a curly ponytail and she had her own pair of jeans on, but kept Jimmy's shirt which was now fully buttoned.
Without further ado, Jimmy pulled his jeans on, then his t-shirt, and Kay sat on one side of Sam while Jessie took the other. Jerry finished distributing the drinks and sat too, leaving only Jimmy and Kyle standing, waiting for him to finally let it out.
♠️♠️♠️
So yes, I'm updating again. I'm not done torturing poor Sam and the others have to know what happened.
I'm really interested if I put Sam's feelings across well. His pain, his annoyance, his doubt that his feelings matter... Poor guy is in such a bad place.
Also, how do you feel about the others, about their reactions so far? Of course, the confession and aftermath is mostly in the next part.
As always, any form of feedback regarding pace, atmosphere, tone and voice are welcome. I'm still trying to get into their grownup voices so tell me if anything feels off.
Hit the star and here's hoping for more updates.