Sam was so sick of people dying right under his nose. His entire body was in tremors, but he let it shake. Let himself be freaked out and vulnerable and terrified, because for now, he was just with his brothers. He could be weak in front of them.

He was back at the table in his grandmother's kitchen, as if nothing had happened. But it was just an illusion. Tom sat on a chair, too, leaning back, while Jerry crouched next to him and applied disinfectant to his burns and scratches. Jimmy stood leaning against the back door, a concerned frown on his face.

And Sam trembled. Because he knew that the shock would wear off and that they'd have to think and talk about what had happened. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be one. But what had they done? What was the trigger?

"Did you file the report on our mission?" Tom asked. His voice shook with the same tremor that consumed Sam.

"The day Grandma was killed," he said.

His answer plunged the room in silence once again. It had been his first thought, too, that they were being punished for not letting the Agency know what had happened in Brazil. But maybe it was their failure in the first place that was bringing this on, no matter the hows and the whys. Maybe they weren't allowed to fail.

Maybe it was Snitch Gravel. And not knowing for sure made it worse. Left them vulnerable. How could they defend themselves if they didn't know who was attacking and why? Who would be next?

"Should we call the girls?" Jimmy asked, ending the loaded silence.

"No," Tom groaned. "Whatever happens, they know we're fine because of the watches. So just give them another few blissful moments away from... this." He indicated his body.

He wasn't too roughed up. Just a few bleeding cuts from the exploding windows and minor burns from the heatwave. They'd faced a lot worse.

"You know they're probably going to call Kay and let her know." Jimmy nodded towards the entrance. Understandably, the front lawn crawled with police.

"Maybe not if we're already here," Sam said.

"I agree with Sam and Tom," Jerry said. "Let's give them a few more minutes without death and execution."

Execution. The word danced around Sam's head as he tried to make sense of the last half an hour, of how lucky they were that Tom hadn't followed Bill to his car for more talking. The idea that he'd been one irrelevant decision away from losing his twin had Sam's skin crawling.

"I don't know," Jimmy mumbled, the idea apparently upsetting.

Sam opened his mouth to point out that Jessie didn't really need to know everything right then and that if he told, then the rest of them had to as well and they'd really rather not, but closed it once Jerry looked from Tom to his twin.

"Is the serum acting up?" he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Jimmy gave a curt nod and looked away, but Sam caught the fire in his eyes. He suddenly felt colder if possible.

Jerry pressed the bandage into Tom's hand and turned to Jimmy. "Sit."

"Why?"

"Just humor me."

Grumbling curses, Jimmy obeyed. Jerry walked to him and placed his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"Look at me and breathe."

"I am breathing."

"Breathe with me." And Jerry started to take controlled inhales and let the air out slowly.

Jimmy just watched him for a few moments and Sam was sure he'd snap and beat all of them into a pulp, but then he sighed and started breathing in the same rhythm as Jerry. After a few rounds, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

"Better?" Jerry asked.

"A little."

"Keep doing this." Jerry returned to Tom who was glancing from Jimmy to his wounds.

Sam had no idea what to say. Things were spiraling out of control again and he absolutely despised it.

The front door opened and they all stiffened. Sam relaxed when he recognized one of the guys on Kyle's SWAT squad.

"Hello," he said, his voice a little shaky. "Not sure if you know who I am. Name's Eric Matthews." They all muttered a hello and waited. "I think it's safe to say the car was wired," Eric continued.

"We sort of picked that up, thanks," Jimmy said, his voice still strained, but at least polite.

"I guessed you would." Eric rubbed the back of his head. "I actually... Well, um, does Kay know?"

"Not yet if you didn't tell her," Jimmy said, his tone catching a protective edge, as if the ghost of Kyle spoke through him.

"I... Um, I didn't call her and I think you should tell her and... Um, do your thing. I'll try to get everyone packing up. We already got everything we need."

Which was impressive after less than an hour, so Sam nodded in appreciation. They really needed to be alone.

"Do you guys want to look for yourselves?"

Sam shook his head. What was the point? What had happened was obvious. The only question was who was behind it.

"Then I guess I'll just give you this." Eric walked over to them but hesitated as if he couldn't decide who to hand whatever it was over to.

It became painfully obvious to Sam that his choice would've been Kyle. His absence tainted the room, making it even harder to breathe. But he had to do what he had to do, so he reached out his hand. It wasn't surprising when Eric passed him a business card identical to the one they'd found when their grandmother was killed.

"Did you show this to anyone?" He turned it over between his fingers. There were no words. Just the dead eagle.

"No. I figured it was personal."

"Thanks," Sam said, stuffing the card in his back pocket. "For everything."

Eric nodded, but lingered, as if drawing up the courage to say something. Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "How's Kay doing?"

The question startled Sam a little. "Don't you guys work together?"

"Well, yes. But she acts brave at work. I just want to know if that's how she really feels."

"What are you asking that for?" Jimmy asked as the same time as Jerry said, "She's doing as well as she can given the circumstances." Both of them fell silent afterwards.

"I think," Sam said after a few seconds of silence, "that if you're worried about her, you should just talk to her."

"Oh. I just don't want to crowd her."

"You won't if you're her friend," Tom said, emphasizing the last word for good measure.

Eric just nodded again then made his way out.

"What are you so belligerent for?" Jerry asked Jimmy the moment the door closed behind Eric.

"He's crushing on Kay," Jimmy mumbled.

Sam had noticed it, too, and even if it bothered him, he fought to be fair. "Which is not unreasonable. It's Kay's decision what to do with it now."

Jimmy groaned. "I know! And I hate it. Because this wasn't even supposed to be an issue."

"If we promised Kyle we'd look after her, that doesn't mean we have to turn into her guardians," Jerry said. "Trust her and support her. She's young and can move on."

"Can we turn into her brothers?" Jimmy muttered, leaning back in his seat.

Sam was suddenly glad he never had a sister growing up. It would've been so hard and weird. But now he technically had four, he wanted nothing more than to protect them at all costs, and he was dying on that hill with Jimmy.

"We are not getting into this," Jerry said as he wrapped a bandage around Tom's forearm. "Unless Eric becomes an issue."

"Then we're burying him in the backyard," Tom supplied.

It was proof of how much they all agreed that none of them demanded that they tone down the morbidity. Too many people had died lately, and just remembering it made Sam sick to his stomach. He tried to take in a deep breath, but all it did was rattle him further. The fact that the police had left in a chorus of blaring sirens didn't make him feel any better.

This was so fucked he couldn't even process it properly. And even if he hadn't wanted to bring the news beyond this room, he suddenly longed to be with Christine, hug his kids. Jimmy did have a point about telling the girls. As the minutes ticked by, he began feeling steadily guiltier.

"What happened?"

The new voice had them all turning towards the back door. Ron stood there, his eyes bloodshot and clothes rumpled. He reeked so badly of alcohol it was a wonder they hadn't picked up on his presence before he spoke.

"Where have you been?" Tom asked.

"Why does it even matter?" Ron stumbled towards them and took the only free chair, leaning back and and almost slumping out of it. "Nothing matters."

Sam wished he could disagree, but he wasn't in the best of places himself. "Well, we have bad news."

"Oh, really?" Ron gave a hallow laugh and closed his eyes. "Is there any other kind out there?" The bitterness in his tone was both understandable and annoying.

"Bill was killed," Jerry whispered.

The news had Ron's eyes shooting open. He looked from Jerry to the rest of them, a mixture of shock and disbelief on his face.

"Bill," he said, his tone even.

"Yes." Jerry hesitated for a moment. "Your brother."

Ron knocked his head back and laughed so hard, he made all of them jump. Even if Sam was half paralyzed by confusion and hurt to see Ron like this, his reaction sank in, bringing annoyance and bitterness with it.

"Why's that funny?" he asked.

Ron snorted a few times and then tried to straighten in his seat. His forehead bashed against the tabletop. "Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, my biological brother. Does that make him my real brother since he never gave a fuck about me?"

"Ron..." Jerry said.

"He never cared about me," Ron declared. "The only person who ever cared about me is dead." He managed to push himself back into a seating position, his eyes filled with tears. 

The awkwardness of the situation was getting hard to stand.

"That's not true," Tom said. "We care about you."

"Well, you shouldn't. Especially you."

"Especially me?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron didn't answer, just took him in properly. His eyes widened in shock. "Did you get hurt?"

"Yeah, I was out with Bill when the car exploded, but that's not--"

"You shouldn't get hurt." Ron shook his head, his floppy hair whipping his face. "You should stop getting hurt. It should've been me."

"Ron, come on." Sam didn't like where this conversation was going. He knew his mother's death had hit him hard, but it still hurt to see his uncle like this.

"Come on what? Tell me Sam. Am I not the biggest loser? Am I not a total waste of space?"

"No, but you're becoming one with that kind of talk," Jimmy said. "Seriously, we get that you're in shock after what happened with your mom and now Bill--"

"I'm not in shock!" Ron banged his fist on the table. "Don't you see? Don't you get it?"

"We do get it," Jerry said, his tone patient and soothing. "We understand that it hurts, that everything feels unfair."

"Everything is unfair! But not to me. Oh no, not to the person who's done absolutely nothing with his life."

"Ron--"

Sam's plea for reason was cut off once Ron waved his hand and almost smacked him over the face. "I'm a forty-four year-old man with absolutely nothing going for him. I have no job, no family. The highlight of my life was sneaking into my mother's house. And now that she's gone... Don't interrupt me!" He demanded once Sam opened his mouth. "I have done absolutely nothing that matters. My biggest achievement is being alive."

"That's still something," Tom pointed out.

"No, it's not. Because I'm not like you. I'm not in danger because I pissed off the wrong people by trying to do something right. Oh, no. The danger is of my own making. Do you know what I did after I ran away from home?"

Sam shook his head. This was new and he wasn't about to interrupt. Not when they needed to know this as much as Ron needed to let it out.

"I was out on the street with no money and stole. It worked for me. Breaking in, extorting people living on the block I chose to make my own just so I wouldn't hurt them when they came home at night. But I stepped on the wrong toes. The place was taken. And what did I do? Ignored the people who were a lot more dangerous than me. I was proud. 

"Proud that I could fend for myself, that I didn't need your father or Bill anymore. But things like that have consequences. I was one second away from being beaten to death. If it hadn't been for Snitch Gravel and his influence, I wouldn't even be breathing right now."

"Why did he even help you?" Sam asked. He'd always wanted to know that and maybe now, with Ron drunk and emotional, they'd actually get some answers.

"Because unlike me, he wasn't a selfish bastard. He didn't turn his back on people in need."

"Snitch Gravel?" Jerry asked in disbelief.

Ron gave a hallow laugh. "Oh, yes. Snitch Gravel. He was always the best out of us all. You know, I did go to your father when I was in deep shit, but he turned me away. Made me face the consequences of my actions. Back then, I hated him. Now, I know he was right. But I was eighteen and scared out of my mind. I didn't even know how to contact Bill. My oldest brother, Bill. Snitch Gravel was all I had left. And he helped me, even if I'd screwed him over so bad." A hiccup escaped him as his words became steadily more slurred.

"So you knew him before he pulled you out of the mess," Jimmy concluded.

Ron watched him with sorrowful eyes. "I knew him. We all knew him. And I'd begged him to take me with him. But he refused, said where he was going was a bad place. That I should live my life free, because I was. He was always so good with metaphors."

"What's his name?" Sam asked, hoping Ron was sloshed enough to finally illuminate them.

But instead, their uncle shook his head. "Oh no, I'm not getting into that. You should know. You should all know. But I won't betray him."

"Why, when he's abandoned you?" Tom asked, sounding annoyed. "He put a target on your back after you helped us."

Ron turned to him and winced as if the movement hurt. "He never did. And I don't care either way. I'd deserve it. I owe him."

"For what?" Tom asked, sensing maybe, just like Sam, that there was more to it then the wrong crowd story.

"I owe you," Ron spluttered, his eyes fixed on Tom. "I owe you so much, even if I tried not to think about it, to believe you deserved it. That Freider deserved it." He turned to Jimmy. "And you."

"If you owe us so much, tell us Snitch Gravel's name," Jimmy said and Sam had to appreciate his nerve.

"Don't! Don't ignore me because I'm drunk." Ron's words were barely discernable as the sorrow was replaced by anger. "You don't know! You don't know! You could've had a home."

Jimmy froze, a killer chill surrounding him. Sam straightened, too, his heart beating into his throat. A wave of rage accompanied by betrayal filled his veins and he could tell they were Tom's feelings, but it all paled in front of the obvious danger that was Jimmy.

"What?" Jimmy asked, his tone deadly.

"He would've raised you! He wouldn't have given you away!" Tears streamed down Ron's face. "But I fucked up. I took Tom and brought him to him and he couldn't handle it. He never asked for Tom. He never wanted to take him. Just you. But he would've raised you, I know he would've!"

The world seemed to have frozen.

"Wait." Tom stood with slow, controlled moves, but Sam could feel the whirlwind inside him. "Are you meaning to tell me that you kidnapped me? Not Snitch Gravel, you? And without anyone asking you to do it?"

Ron nodded, watching him with wide eyes.

And the moment he did, Tom smashed his fist into their uncle's face.

🧭

The pulse rang in Tom's ears and as much as everyone pleaded with him, he could not calm down.

Ron. It had been Ron all along. Not Snitch Gravel, but the uncle he'd cared for so much, the one he'd nearly died for. And he'd had the balls to laugh in his face for all those years, knowing what he'd done, the scars he'd caused. And not only to him, but to Jimmy as well.

The idea of Snitch Gravel raising Jimmy was very odd. Would they have come face to face, enemies in this war? But then again, actually raising a child might have changed Snitch Gravel dramatically. Maybe none of this would have happened? None of the pain, none of the death.

He could've grown up with Sam. He could've had a family. Instead, he had nothing but rage and lies. The image of Ron falling under the table and then scurrying away for dear life still replayed before his eyes. If it hadn't been for his fresh wounds, he would've dived after him and caught him. But he couldn't and Sam and Jerry had  been too busy restraining Jimmy.

Ron had escaped and disappeared again. And all Tom wanted was to get his hands around his neck and squeeze.

"Baby, please try to calm down," Angie pleaded.

He couldn't calm down. His knuckles still throbbed with the force of the hit. A part of him wished that Jimmy had gotten his hands on Ron and ripped him to shreds.

It wasn't just the shock, the pain. It was the betrayal.

"I can't believe this," Jessie mumbled. Her arms was wrapped around Jimmy's waist, holding him against her, forcing him to calm down.

Jimmy knew he needed it so he didn't protest. His eyes were closed as he probably tried to tame the serum.

"We can't believe it either," Jerry said from the stove. He turned to everyone, a large pot of tea in hand. "Do you guys want something to eat?"

"Food, Jerry?" Jimmy asked between his teeth.

"God, yes, I'm starving," Sam said almost at the same time, typing away on his phone, most likely reassuring Christine.

She, Kay and Sarah had stayed behind with all the kids to allow Jessie and Angie to come over. Both of them for obvious reasons. Sam had taken care of the specifics, as thoughtful as always.

"I can't believe what happened to Bill either. And you..." Angie wrapped his arms around Tom and pulled him into a hug. It was a little awkward since he was sitting and she wasn't, but he appreciated it all the same. Being with her made everything better, this included.

"I'm fine. Just a few scratches and burns," he mumbled into her chest.

"You could've died!"

"Oh, what else is new?" Jimmy said. "We should get out of here before the house explodes."

Tom hummed because part of him wanted to wait for Ron and punch him again.

"Didn't Ron mention why he did it?" Jessie asked, as if reading his mind.

"He didn't get to," Tom said between his teeth. And it was the only reason he was sorry he'd lost his cool. "He was pretty drunk though. Not sure how much more useful input he had in him."

"What I gathered," Sam said, probably a lot more levelheaded, "is that he thought it would be something Snitch Gravel wanted."

"But why would he care so much what Snitch Gravel wanted in the first place?" Angie asked.

The question was most likely eating all of them alive. It grated on Tom's nerves, but it was nothing compared to all the 'what if' scenarios playing inside his head.

"Do you think it's true?" Jessie asked. "That he would've raised you?" She lifted her eyes to Jimmy who only twitched in a half shrug.

"Maybe. But apparently two kids were too much for him." 

Tom couldn't even imagine being raised by... Well, anyone really. But why would evil bastard Snitch Gravel want to raise Jimmy or anyone else for that matter? Why, when their own mother had ditched Kyle and their father refused to take him back? And even after they came home, none of them seemed particularly fit to raise anyone. How Sam and Jerry turned out fine was a mystery to him.

"Let's get out of here," Jimmy said, turning to his twin. "And you need to move. Now."

"I know, I know," Jerry said gathering mugs. "I knew we couldn't put it off much longer."

"I'm serious Jerry. People are getting killed left, right and center."

"Okay, enough." Sam stood, passing his empty mug to Jerry. "We should all go home. We've had a horrid day and I actually need to plan the damn memorial for Bill as well." He hesitated. "Do you... Um, do you guys think we should tell Billy?"

Tom didn't even flinch at the question, maybe because he was half-expecting it from the moment it happened. "Can we even contact him?"

Jimmy looked to Jessie for this, but she just shook her head. There was something lingering there, but Tom wasn't in the mood for more absurd conversation.

"I don't think there's any point. Their relationship doesn't warrant a revival," she said.

"Agreed," Sam said before anyone else could comment. "Let's just all go home. I'll bring your kids over, and we'll gather up later to talk."

In a chorus of agreement, they all left. Angie was silent as Tom got behind the wheel and drove towards their house. He could tell there was a lot on her mind, but he appreciated the silence. He was still trying to compute the last few hours. The day seemed to have gone on forever.

The moment he parked in front of their garage, his mind spun faster than ever, filled with random words, explanations which made no sense, and the sound of explosions. Had they really gone to their grandmother's funeral that morning?

He got out of the car and leaned his hands on it, trying to just breathe for a few seconds. Who cared what Ron said? What was done was done. Not like they could turn back time. Another deep breath later, he realized Angie hadn't gotten out of the car.

A tiny sliver of fear caught hold of him as he rounded the hood and opened the door. "Angie?"

She was still in her seat, her arms around herself, tears in her eyes.

"Babe?"

She turned to look at him and latched on to his forearm. "I'll be fine. It's just..."

He shook his head. "No just. Not after today. Talk to me."

She gave him a weak smile. "This is about you, not about me."

"Bullshit, it's about us."

She took in a rattling breath and two more tears slid down her cheeks. "That's the thing, actually. Ever since I found out, ever since you rightfully mentioned that you could've had a family if it weren't for Ron, that you could've grown up with Sam..." She turned to him, her eyes shining. "The thought that it could have happened, that we wouldn't have met..."

The lingering pain in his chest morphed into something a lot more complicated. "We would've still met. In the jungle. It wouldn't have made the family or Agency crap go away."

Angie sniffed. "Yes, but you would've been a different person. And even if I will always think you're the hottest man on this planet, I fell in love with your personality. With your humor, your hope, your resourcefulness and optimism. It was what I needed in my life."

And if he'd grown up with Sam he wouldn't have needed all of that to survive. He would've maybe been a spoiled little rich kid. She was right.

"And the simple thought of a life without you, without Zoey and Ryan... It's terrifying."

Tom scooped her out of the car and held her against him. "You know what? That's not happening. No matter what could've been... Well, it's not. We have each other and the kids and that's how it's going to be."

"I just wish it was enough for you, too," she whispered, "knowing you could've had so much more."

And there it was. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. "You're everything I ever wanted, babe. And that will never change. No matter what, I love you."

"I love you, too, so much. And I feel terrible that your misfortune turned out to be my luck."

He huffed and put her down, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know what? I think we were both lucky."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," she said with a small smile.

It wasn't true. He didn't think he'd like himself as much in the other scenario. He liked this. Being with her, covered in tattoos, with trauma to fill ten lifetimes... He started swaying. Dancing with her in the street because they could.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"When's the last time we danced?"

She frowned in thought but kept up their dance. "Last week."

"Huh. I thought it was longer."

"We do dance a lot."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

She raised on the tips of her toes and kissed him. And as he kissed her back, all the tension went out of him. Whatever Ron had done over twenty five years ago didn't matter. This was his life now, and Angie had a point. All the suffering had been worth it because it had led him here.

To his wonderful family and the love of his life.

Fuck all the what ifs.

🧭🧭🧭

I'm really curious what you're thinking right now because you got a pretty big reveal. Snitch Gravel never kidnapped Tom. It was Ron basically bringing him as tribute, but it ended up messing everything up. WHAT IS GOING ON?

Well, it's just the tip of the iceberg. You're about to get more answers to more questions (including all this mess) soon enough. Just stick around for the fun (and death).

Thanks so much for reading and don't forget to vote and comment. I'll see you guys next week.