Sam crawled out of his tent before sunset, his head buzzing, his throat dry. Everything was still. They hadn't even assigned anyone to guard duty. Snitch Gravel could've murdered them all in their sleep.

Cursing himself for his lack of judgment, he headed for William's tent to check up on him. He was fast asleep. Sam studied William's face carefully, but still couldn't see any resemblance between him and Kay. As far as he was concerned, William could have been any stranger.

He fleetingly wondered why Herrison had told them that William was Kay's brother. They could have completed their mission without knowing, and it would have been much easier for Kyle. Herrison only made sure that... they wouldn't leave William to die in the desert. Because Sam was very tempted. Kyle would probably kill him for simply suggesting it.

Shaking his head, Sam left William to his nap and started scavenging around the luggage for some food. As he ate the stale sandwich Jerry had prepared for him, he wondered why he couldn't sleep anymore. He hadn't managed to sleep more than four hours, and since he hadn't had much sleep the previous night either, he was bound to feel exhaustion soon. But he couldn't help not sleeping. It's not like he was doing it on purpose.

"Hey, Sam," Tom said, sitting next to Sam and scaring him half to death. "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep," Sam mumbled, stuffing his mouth with as much bread as possible.

"Hey, don't choke on that." Tom laughed taking the rest of the sandwich out of his hand. "Why can't you sleep? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm..." Sam shut his mouth. He didn't see the point in lying to Tom. "I feel strange."

"You look strange. I've never seen you this pale."

"Don't overdo it," Sam warned. Tom only managed to make him feel worse. So much for sharing your feelings being therapeutic. He couldn't afford to appear weak before the others. He had to keep it together. "Go wake the others up. We should move out," he ordered.

"Sure boss," Tom said, his eyebrows raised, but got up and headed for the tents to fulfill the order.

Sam glared after him, glad to be alone, but it didn't last long. Ron shuffled towards him, the annoying grin still on his face. He sat next to Sam, morphing his expression into a fatherly one that pissed Sam off even more.

"What's going on Sam? Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry. Gees, there's nothing wrong with me. Why won't you all give it a rest?" Sam snarled, gathering up the food.

"I know how to cheer you up," Ron said, searching for something in his pockets.

"How?" Sam asked surprised.

"We can play a little game," Ron said brightly, taking out a sound recorder. "You guys must be pretty famous, so let's play reporter. After all, you didn't tell me anything about your girlfriends."

"We don't have any girlfriends," Billy answered upset, joining the two.

The rest of the group gathered around them, but after seeing the recorder in Ron's hand, they all scattered and busied themselves with packing up their stuff.

"Speaking only for yourself, aren't you, Billy?" Ron answered without even looking at Billy and turned back to Sam. "Come on, Sam."

"Turn that blasted thing off!" Sam said sitting up and walking away from Ron, but the latter followed.

"Come on, I'm a girl admirer of yours..." Ron insisted.

"I don't care about any blasted girl! Now turn that damn thing off!" Sam yelled and strutted away.

Ron didn't follow, apparently knowing what's good for him, but turned to Jimmy instead.

"What about you, sir? Would you like to talk to one of your fans?" Ron asked in a professional tone.

"I don't want to talk to any damn girl, come off it. Now turn that thing off before I shove it..." Jimmy started, pissed off.

"Why are all of you so angry? I'm just trying to cheer you up," Ron said apologetically, heading towards Jerry now.

"Why are you coming towards me with that thing? Are you out of your mind? Turn it off," Jerry said before Ron could reach him properly and hurried away to do more packing.

"Kyle, how about you?" Ron tried again turning towards Kyle this time.

"Stop fooling around with that thing," Kyle said, turning away.

"But a lady admirer wishes to talk to you," Ron insisted.

"Don't they all?" Kyle said rolling his eyes. "Tell her to screw off. And turn that thing off," he added, but smirked before turning back to his own packing.

"That's the spirit!" Ron said thrilled, heading for Tom this time. "How about you, Tom? What's the message you would like to send out to your fans?"

"Do you really want that thing shoved up your ass?" Tom asked pleasantly.

Sam expected Jerry to tell Tom off, but the lecture never came. At least Ron pocketed his stupid recorder and started gathering up things too.

"What the heck was that about?" Billy asked looking at Ron suspiciously.

"I don't know," Tom answered. "It didn't cheer anyone up, only managed to piss Sam off. Our poor feet!"

Sam gritted his teeth. If they wanted aching feet, they'd get them.

What followed was another night's march. Sam once again refused to set them more than one break and walked as fast as he could. He knew he was being stubborn, but he felt like annoying them as much as possible. He couldn't even tell why. It seemed to be the only thing that kept him from exploding with frustration. Why he felt frustrated, once again, he couldn't tell.

This time, no one questioned his orders. Jimmy kept quiet, even if he seemed annoyed, while the others didn't even seem upset. This infuriated Sam even more than if they'd shouted their disapproval at him. It was like they were trying to prove they could do this and be better than him at it.

From time to time, Tom and Jerry threw him worried glances. Kyle on the other hand didn't even seem to care what was going on. He walked after them quietly.

Though Sam expected it, no one said anything all night. They all let him lead the way without any suggestions, complaints or praises. When morning finally came, Sam signaled to stop and sat on the ground right there and then.

"Should we set up camp here?" Jim asked cautiously, approaching Sam who sat cross-legged, pondering on new ways to torture the group.

"Yeah, why not? This place is as good as any," Sam answered, looking up at the light blue sky. Why couldn't it rain?

"This is actually a pretty nice location. Good job, Sam," Ron said as if Sam had lead them to a remarkably lush oasis.

Tom and Jimmy threw Ron a fleeting glance after which Jimmy raised his binoculars and looked towards the forest.

"Damn it. Can't see anything because of this damn sun." He dropped them and started taking out his tent and sleeping bag.

"Are you guys all right?" Jim asked warily.

"We're fine!" Sam and Jimmy both snapped. "Now go to sleep, all of you!" Sam added, turning his back on all of them.

Jim didn't move, just kept staring at the lot of them as though they were crazy.

"Oh, so you're not tired, are you Jim?" Sam said stomping toward him. "Then you stand guard for us, okay?" He thrust a rifle in Jim's hands and heading for his tent without another word.

He zipped the flap shut, but could still hear Ron's voice from outside.

"So, Sam decided to torture you."

"He's not usually like this. I don't know what's wrong with him," Jim answered. "He was much friendlier."

Sam felt a stab of guilt and gratitude towards Jim for being so loyal. Plus, he was right. What had happened to him? He wasn't this crazy tyrant. The jungle had been so much different, with everyone helping, fighting for the common goal of staying alive. Whereas now, they all seemed so caught up in their own heads...

"Was he?" Ron asked, his tone showing that he didn't believe Jim at all.

"Yes, all of them were. And they were funny. They made me laugh, even if I had no idea who they were, they always made jokes and helped each other out and..." Jim's voice died out and Sam wondered if Jim had realized there was no point trying to convince Ron.

Sam spent a few minutes wondering what Ron had gathered from that conversation, but he didn't really care much and he was too tired to dwell on it.

But sleep wouldn't stay long enough. About four hours later Sam came out of his tent, his jaw aching from how tight he'd locked it and his throat once again burning with thirst. He found a bottle of water and drained. For a few glorious moments, his head felt clear and the bad mood vanished. Then it came crashing back, even more powerful than before.

He noticed Jim glaring at him and his stomach tightened. With inhuman effort, Sam closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Jim, you'd better get some sleep, too, before we set out. I'll finish guard duty. Sorry for keeping you awake," he said, making his voice as friendly as possible.

Jim raised his eyebrows, but looked confused rather than annoyed now. He handed Sam the rifle and headed for his tent. Sam took it and gritted his teeth. Being nice seemed to have drained all energy out of him.

Another few hours passed until all the group got up and started packing up. Sam didn't say anything to any of them. He was now once again checking the map and his eyes drifted towards the number that Kyle had scribbled almost one week ago, more than necessary. He knew he should talk to Kyle, but he wasn't sure of what he would say to him, because a part of him wanted to tell Kyle to stop being so pathetic. But he was pretty sure Kyle would punch him in the face as an answer. Maybe even without holding back. Getting punched full force in the face by Kyle was something that he would like to avoid.

You're being an insensitive asshole. But did anyone care about him? All they did was scowl and give snide comments and... A bolt of pain zoomed through head, like electricity frying his brain. He shut his eyes tightly. They were watering.

"Sam, are you all right?" Jim asked.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook gently. Sam squinted at Jim.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"You were nice to me, too," Jim answered reluctantly. "There's something wrong with you."

There it was again. He'd had it with this. "Nothing's wrong with me!"

"Oh, yeah, that's convinced us," Jimmy said, raising the binoculars to look towards the forest.

"How far are we?" Tom asked.

"My guess is about two days until we get there," Jimmy answered. "Tomorrow morning we'll probably reach the forest. And it was about time, too."

"Tomorrow? Why is this whole thing taking so freaking long? Even with Sam's mindless marching, we still took forever to get here," Tom burst out.

"What?" Sam gave Tom the stink eye, but his twin ignored him.

"Another day." He huffed. "That could make all the difference. Has it even occurred to any of you that Snitch Gravel might have killed her already? But we're sitting here having a picnic instead!"

"Shut up, Tom!" Sam snapped stomping over and stopping inches from him. "If my marching is so mindless, let me see you come with a better idea." He threw Tom a disgusted glance. "You keep moaning about that girl as if it's our fault she got captured."

Tom's fists clenched and Sam mirrored his stance. Come at me. Let me see you try.

"I can't believe you!" Tom yelled instead. "I took your side in front of the others. I was worried about you. I even supported all your brainless marching. So, don't you give me this crap now!" He took a step closer to Sam.

"Yeah, just because it suited you. Don't try to come off all noble. And don't worry. We'll reach that girl and you can hold her and comfort her. Don't worry about Angie, she's already used to getting hurt by you. That's all you're good at anyway, making her miserable," Sam snarled.

It happened in the blink of an eye. A scowl darkened Tom's features and he charged at Sam. Before he could reach, Jerry and Jimmy grabbed him and immobilized him.

Sam watched Tom struggle to free himself with smug satisfaction. Tom yanked one arm free from Jerry's grip, but even if in reach, he didn't use it to hit Sam. Instead, he tore off his sunglasses and started Sam in the eyes.

Sam's smile slipped off his face. His heart stabbed at him as if he were about to have a heart attack. There was so much hatred in Tom's eyes, hatred directed at him. What had he said? Why had he said it? The jolt of pain in his chest rushed towards his head.

He shut his eyes and looked away, fighting not to scream out loud. All feelings of annoyance, frustration and hate poured out of him, leaving him guilty, regretful... unfair.

What was happening to him? Jim had been right. There was something wrong and he couldn't control it. He couldn't control his words, his own actions.

"Jimmy, Jerry, let Tom go," he said weakly, his eyes still shut. He felt that if he opened them, he would fall apart. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what's happening to me..."

It felt like a monster was running wild inside of him and he couldn't catch it, couldn't destroy it. He was a danger to himself and to others. His eyes shot open with the realization of what it meant. "I can't lead you anymore." He hurried away from them, towards the forest.