That was the question Sam hoped Sophie wouldn't ask. He still couldn't open his mouth and answer it anyway. Fortunately, her eyes were fixed on Tom for the moment.

"Why do you wear the sunglasses indoors?" she asked.

Tom flinched the slightest bit, but managed to turn it into a shrug. "It's protection."

"From what?"

"From people. From judgement. From strangers."

Sam turned to him with a frown. He'd never explained it so clearly to him. Even if he'd known from the start that Tom didn't have photosensitive epilepsy, Sam hadn't every fully figured out why his twin was obsessed with keeping his eyes covered. He'd taken it as a quirk, but it apparently ran much deeper.

"Can you take them off?" Sophie asked, her tone careful.

Tom pulled back an inch. "I could, but it would be fake trust."

Their grandma jutted out her lips in a pensive way. "Fair enough. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable." And with those words she turned her probing gaze towards Sam again, clearly not giving a hoot that she was making him uncomfortable . "Why are you here?"

"Well..." Crap baskets, what was he supposed to say? "We were in the neighborhood and..."

"Do those excuses really work on your stupid mother?"

Sam flinched. Ouch. He wasn't sure he was more insulted on his mother's behalf or his own.

"You want me to believe you just happened to be in the neighborhood 4.130 miles away from home. And yes, I know the exact distance by heart."

"We were in Paris already," Tom interjected, not being very useful. "Work stuff."

"Work." She raised a doubting brow.

"Yes, work," he emphasized on a clear we're-not-telling-you-shit tone.

Sophie's bright blue gaze turned to Sam again as though she thought he'd be much easier to bully. The bad part was that her really was. He swallowed heavily, trying to fight the sudden shudder overcoming him. Her look turned concerned.

"Sam, what is wrong? You look..." She paused as if searching for a word. "Frightened."

Was he? If he was completely truthful, yes, he was, and the reason was beyond stupid. "I haven't seen you in years and the last time I saw you, you were very serious and upset and screaming at Mom and..." Sam's voice cracked and he stared into his lap.

For one long moment, there was silence. Then Sophie let out a deep sigh. "Oh, you poor child. I didn't think you would remember. Were you four? Five?"

Sam's face shot up, an annoying confusion overtaking him. "It can't have been that long."

Sophie nodded, her lips pressed together. "It has. I haven't stepped foot in your house since that day."

Sam just stared, trying to urge his brain to do some basic math. He remembered that fight. It had scared the crap out of him what with both his mother and favorite grandmother yelling and crying, but he couldn't remember what they were arguing about.

"I was horrible, having that argument with your mother right in front of you," Sophie whispered.

"I don't remember what you were arguing about, just that there was a lot of screaming involved." And Sophie hadn't come visit since.

She said nothing to this, just took a sip of coffee from her cup. Sam could practically feel Tom's inquisitive gaze on him, but he didn't know what to say. He could hardly remember anything himself past the feeling of being terrified and wanting the ground to swallow him.

"Listen, boys," Sophie finally said. "I'm...I'm not a bad mother. I love my daughter so much and that is why..." She paused again, searching for words. "J'eu une dispute avec elle. It wasn't easy for me. It still isn't, but I don't agree with some of the choices your mother has made in her life. She is my child and I would walk to the ends of the world for her, but I cannot act as if I agree."

"Why did you fight?" Tom asked.

"Knowing would do you no good. Especially since it appears that so far, it is her who has been right. But I will tell you why we fought when Sam remembers. It was about Kyle."

"Kyle?" Sam and Tom both asked.

"Yes. I insisted Maximillian cannot take care of her child, that they should take him back home for school. And she disagreed. She dared disagree." Sophie's tone turned deadly, as if the fight played before her eyes again. "She claimed she knew what she was doing, that Freider knew best." She positively spat out the last word.

Sam got a sinking feeling in his stomach once his father came into the equation.

"She thought I was stupid," Sophie continued. "She thought I couldn't tell it was precisely because of Freider that she abandoned her child!"

The silence following her statement was deadly. Sam swallowed the knot in his throat, trying to wrap his head around the not so surprising news. Because if he was completely honest, this wasn't new. It was just something he'd tried very hard to repress. The fact that their father didn't want Kyle. Maybe never had. If he hadn't seen how in love his parents were, he would've thought his father resented Kyle for forcing him to get married.

"Anyway, it's not like I could do anything about it. I even warned her that I would take Kyle to France and raise him properly. But she cried and pleaded, and I yielded." Sophie let out a deep breath. "It seems she at least got her head straight, finally, because I've heard Kyle is now home with the rest of you."

"Yes, he is actually...." Sam chewed on his lower lip, trying to figure out if he wanted to get deeper into this. But since Sophie seemed prone on being honest, maybe this was the only chance he would ever get. "Grandmaman, why did Mom and Dad send Kyle to Texas in the first place?"

"Because that's what your father wanted," she answered without missing a beat. "As soon as Jerry was born -- well, Jerry and Jimmy now I guess -- he claimed your mother couldn't possibly take shower two children with all the attention they needed." Sophie gritted her teeth. "At least that's the crap he fed me. I couldn't get the truth out of your mother. I think she put up a fight, too.

"It was supposed to be a temporary thing, so I didn't mind taking care of Kyle until Jerry grew up a little. It didn't work that way. Before I knew what was happening, you two were born. Obviously, Jerry wasn't sent away."

Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to hear more, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to stop his grandmother. The bitterness in her voice sent a very unpleasant weight in his stomach and part of him was sure he was heading for a solid brick wall.

"Freider told me to butt out of his family. As if I wasn't part of it. As if Kyle wasn't part of it." Sophie placed her clenched fists on the table. "He has no idea how painful it was to raise Kyle, to explain that I am not his mother, that Max is not his father. To explain why his parents didn't want him around for Christmas or the summer or any other holiday..."

The knot in Sam's stomach moved to his throat and he clenched his own fists so hard, his knuckles turned white. He really didn't want to hear this.

"Eventually, he didn't care," Sophie continued. "Or at least no longer showed it. And after that fight you remember, Sam..." Tears shone in her eyes and she bit her fist. "I left," she whispered. "I was so angry, I just left for France without looking back. I hoped, prayed, that it would make Maximillieanne see sense, take her child back. She didn't..." Her gaze wandered towards the window, lost between the falling snowflakes.

Tom let out a low whistle and Sam jumped. He'd completely forgotten his twin was there, looking through this grimy window at a family Sam no longer remembered. But in the light of this new information, was it really that surprising that the relationship between Freider and Kyle was as tense as it was? Their father's attempts to hide any sign of preference towards him and Jerry had been poor in the best of cases. No wonder Kyle had been so depressed in his first year home. The pain of losing Kay had been minimized and he'd had to face Freider and Jerry on top of it.

And when Kay came back, even if Kyle was much better, much happier, it wasn't acceptable for Freider. Or they wouldn't have had that fight when they came back from the jungle. At the moment, he'd filed it away, but now Sam wondered if there wasn't more to it. Something their grandma could help with.

"Grandmaman," he said quietly, "Kyle and Dad had a pretty ugly fight a few months ago."

Sophie flinched and returned her attention to them. "A fight?"

"When?" Tom asked, surprised.

"In July, right after the girls left. You and Jimmy didn't catch it, but Jerry and I walked right into it." He'd forgotten Tom didn't know, but it wasn't like there was any point keeping it from him. "Anyway, the problem is Kyle has a girlfriend. She's great and we all adore her, but Dad has been nagging us to stay away from girls our whole lives, so of course Kyle didn't tell him about her." He hesitated, not sure why exactly he'd brought Kay up because the story could be told without involving her.

"Kyle has a girlfriend?" Sophie asked, sounding skeptical. "You mean Kay?"

"You know her?" Sam asked shocked.

"Yes, I've met her back when they were just friends. I saw right through them, knew they would end up together. I would have been disappointed had it not been her. And I can also see why your father doesn't like her."

"And why's that?" Tom asked. "I mean he doesn't like any of our girlfriends, but he abhors Kay."

Sophie paused for a moment, then started laughing. "You all have girlfriends? It was about time! And I wish I could see the look on Freider's face." She regained her composure. "Your father will never like Kay because she's not a fling. She makes Kyle happy. And if there's one thing I've noticed ever since Kyle was born, it's that your father's goal in life is to make him miserable. But by all means, tell me about this fight."

Sam stared for a second, then snapped out of it, deciding to file that bit of information away for later. "Dad found out about Kay."

"How did he find out?" Tom asked. "None of us breathed a word, and I doubt Mom told him."

"He sort of walked in on them as they were saying goodbye."

"And?" Sophie asked, rising her eyebrows. "Isn't he allowed to talk to girls and say goodbye to them?"

"They were saying goodbye non-verbally." Sam tried to condense the story as much as possible, but the thought of that night still made his blood boil. "I didn't see anything, I only know what Kyle told us afterwards. Dad wasn't happy about it, asked Kyle to break up with Kay, and Kyle probably turned a bit rude because he has that knack and..." Oh God, here it came. "Kyle said Dad hit him."

Tom swore out loud, but Sam only had eyes for his grandmother. For a moment, she just stared, then she stood abruptly, her chair toppling over. She whipped around and left the room, talking rapidly in French.

Sam watched her, wondering if he should've stayed silent about it. This wasn't why he'd brought it up.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us," Tom said between his teeth. "Jimmy and I had the right to know."

"Look, I'm sorry, but Kyle said not to," Sam replied, too on edge to face Tom.

"What happened? I want details."

"I don't have details," Sam snapped. "I didn't see anything. Kyle just said Dad punched him over the couch."

He really didn't want Tom knowing that their father almost hit their mother, because Tom and Jimmy didn't know Freider well enough to love him unconditionally. He knew it and Kyle had obviously known it, too. Neither of them wanted to ruin the family for Tom and Jimmy.

"Dad punched Kyle over the couch?" Tom asked in disbelief. "Did you see what Kyle does to people he hits? And as much as you hit him, he doesn't fall over."

"Yeah, I know. He punched me in the stomach and sent me to the floor, remember? And he was asleep, wasn't even trying. Anyway, he said that he half-ducked and that's why he rolled over."

"Why is this thing happening? Why does Dad hate Kay so much?"

After what they'd found out from Sophie, Sam wasn't so sure Kay was the problem anymore. Maybe it was all about Kyle. And the only one willing to tell them more about it was their grandmother. Except she wasn't coming back.

"Boys, come in here," she called as if reading Sam's mind. "It was rude of me to keep you in the kitchen."

Sam and Tom both stood and headed back into the hallway. Sophie was in the room at the end of the hall which turned out to be the living room.

The walls were covered in glass fronted cabinets filled with decorative dishware, books and crystal figurines. A large oval table filled the center of the room and an old upright piano rested in one of the corners. Next to the door was a chest of drawers filled with photograph frames.

Sophie sat at the table, her hands knotted together, her forehead resting against them, and didn't indicate that they should join her. Sam decided their grandma still needed some time, so he focused on the photographs instead.

It took precisely thirty seconds before he felt like throwing up. His grandmother had mapped out the lives of all the people he cared about. There were a few photos of their mother and Max as kids, playing with their father, a portrait picture of his grandfather in his youth; then there were pictures of him and Jerry as babies, on their first days of school, from Jerry's graduation... but what really brought his down were the pictures of Kyle. Nowhere in their house were there pictures of his oldest brother.

Tom picked up one of them. It was a group photo from their parents' wedding. Sam came closer to get a good look. Ever since Ron mentioned them getting the year wrong, Sam wanted to spot some details for himself. Like their uncle actually being there. He wasn't hard to find with his flaming hair and goofy grin. He crouched in front of Billy's father. A little further to their left, was Herrison. Sam did a double take and leaned in closer.

How had he never realized Herrison was that close to his family? He gazed at the crowd for faces he could recognize, but apart from his grandmothers, the rest were complete strangers. Once he got that out of the way, he focused on his parents' faces.

His father grinned broadly, obviously looking like a man who hit the jackpot. His mother smiled shyly at the camera, and even if she didn't look much different, Sam noticed the way her hand was protectively placed in front to her stomach. Sam wondered how far along she actually was, though he'd rather eat his own head than ask.

Tom passed the photo to him and picked another up, a confused frown on his face. Sam glanced over his shoulder, and immediately dropped the wedding picture in favor of the new one.

It was of Kyle, Max and Sophie. Max was on all fours staring Kyle in the face while Sophie was in the background smiling. Kyle seemed to be about four, wearing jean overalls and holding a big blue ball. Sam looked at it and almost felt like crying. He had never seen pictures of Kyle as a baby or as a child. He'd started talking to Kyle when he was thirteen, which made Kyle sixteen.

And even if he'd grown taller and manned up in the five years they'd been actively interacting, he hadn't changed that much. He hadn't looked like a child. And, just like in the case of Tom and Jimmy, no matter how well they got along now, it would never bring back the years stolen from them. They hadn't grown up together.

But what hurt most was that he could accept why Tom and Jimmy hadn't been there. It was something beyond anyone's control. But Kyle? It as his mother and father who took away their childhood together, who turned them into strangers for years.

Sam looked away from the picture. He couldn't look at it anymore. It felt like a veil had been lifted and he could finally see just how wrong it had been all along. If Kyle would have grown up with them, everything would have been alright, he and Jerry would've never argued. How could he not see it before? Tears filled his vision and he blinked them away.

"Man, look at him, he was so cute," Tom said, his voice shaky.

"He was extraordinarily sweet," Sophie said softly. She then indicated that they should sit down, so they obeyed. "I miss him. I missed all of you. And I'm happy you're here. I wanted to come and see you all for Christmas, as much as I despise coming to Chicago..." She trailed off as if she realized admitting her dislike for visiting them wasn't the best idea.

"Hey, if you're lucky, you'll get to see all of us here and you won't have to come to Chicago," Tom said with a shrug.

Sophie's eyes widened. "You're all here?"

Tom pursed his lips, then shrugged again. "Why hide it? Yes, probably. And that's why we're here. We need Kyle's phone number."

Sophie stood from her chair and left the room. Hope bubbled in Sam's chest, but it did nothing to ease his nerves. Because the prospect of meeting the others brought something else to the forefront of his mind. His little side mission was over. And he'd failed.

"Sam, you okay?" Tom asked. "You're shaking."

"I'm such an useless idiot," he mumbled.

"With the risk of sounding like an idiot... um, what?"

"I failed. I should've done more to rescue Christine, but instead I hid away in the Underworld, let you lead. Even Angie busted out on her own..."

"And what were you supposed to do?" Tom's tone wasn't soothing, merely annoyed. "Rush the goons? Let yourself get captured? Killed?"

"Maybe!"

He hated the sense of uselessness smothering him. Even with all his training and knowledge on tactics and psychology that he'd been fed over the past few months, he still hadn't been able to protect his girlfriend. And he'd known. He'd always known she was in danger, that Snitch Gravel could use her against him.

"Sam, stop being a brat." Tom placed his sunglasses on top of his head. The heat in them almost calmed him down a little. Almost. "You're not a superhero. No one is expecting you to tear through Snitch Gravel's men to rescue Christine."

"You would've done it," Sam cut him off.

Tom rolled his eyes. "You're not me. You're not Jimmy and you're not Kyle. Learn to leave with it. You are who you are and we need you, not who you think you're supposed to be."

"Need me for what? You're definitely very capable of leading, too."

"Don't compare the street rats to what we have to do. That's easy. What you do is not."

Sam sunk his teeth into his lower lip, trying to hold on to Tom's words. "But I feel so guilty..."

"Trust me, I feel like crap, too. Angie got out on her own, then you saved her. The thing is..." Tom sighed. "It's different for you and me. I can afford to rush in brainlessly after Angie. Because when I reach her, I know she's backup. So are Kay and Jessie. They're badass, they help. Christine and Tina are damsels. Reaching them is a dead end."

"That's mean."

"It's also true."

Sam couldn't argue against that and it calmed him down a little. He still felt like crap, but Tom was right. Christine and Tina were still damsels and rushing out to get any of them without a proper plan or backup was just asking to be killed.

"That's why you're here?"

They both jumped and turned towards the door. Sophie stood in the threshold, an old, stained notebook clutched between her fingers, her eyes wide and confused. Then, she suddenly squinted, the anger on her face terrifying.

"Snitch Gravel?"

Sam flinched. His grandmother knew about Snitch Gravel. And he had no idea how much of they're conversation she'd overheard.

"He kidnapped your girlfriends?" she pressed on.

"Yes," Tom said, dropping all pretense.

"And..." She walked to the table and sat down, massaging her forehead. The notebook fell on the tabletop. "Let me get this straight." She raised his eyes and pointed at Sam. "Christine." She then pointed at Tom. "Angie. I already know who Kay belongs to. And there's a Jessie and a Tina. You all have girlfriends."

"Yes," Sam answered. The even Jerry was implied.

"Jimmy's with Jessie and Jerry with Tina..." his grandma mumbled to herself.

Sam would've been surprised that she'd guessed, but he didn't have the energy anymore. The silence stretched for a few long moments, then Sophie raises her face and stared straight at Tom.

"You have really beautiful eyes."

"Um, thanks," Tom mumbled, but didn't drop his sunglasses.

"Have all the girls been kidnapped?"

"No. Just Christine and Angie," Sam answered.

"Then why are the others here?"

There was a pause before Tom took a deep breath and answered, "We can't tell you that."

"Do your parents know you're here?" Sophie insisted.

"We don't know," Sam said after a short pause.

"Do they know why you're here?"

"No, they don't," Tom answered. He sat opposite his grandmother and pulled the notebook out of her hand. She didn't protest and just watched him noting down numbers with empty eyes.

"Can you at least tell me what happened to you? I already know it was Snitch Gravel and I know too well what he's capable of."

"Fine Grandmaman, you want to know? I'll tell you." Sam dropped on a chair too, the annoyance building up inside him at the unfairness of the whole situation. "Snitch Gravel kidnapped Christine and Angie. He only wanted Christine, Angie was collateral. I had to come alone if I ever wanted to see her again, but since Angie was missing, Tom came along. And he wired our car and it blew up with our luggage almost taking us along. We've been living on the streets for almost two weeks, so we have no idea what's going on at home."

"He went that far... That bastard!" Sophie hit her fist against the tabletop. "I expected more of him. I thought such methods were below him. How many times have you faced him?"

"This is the fourth time," Tom mumbled, finally closing the notebook and passing it back across the table.

"You children carry this burden for nothing."

Sam couldn't agree more. But he'd long since learned there was no point dwelling on that. This was his life now.

❄❄❄

Phew. I cut it so close this time. I just had so much work to do, I didn't have time for writing. But this chapter is huge so I hope it makes up for it.

So. Much. Information in the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm also very curios what you think about what you've learned and how you feel about it.

Liking Sophie? How much more does she know?

This chapter will also have another part which I hope to have done in time for the next updat.

Now give me blood!