Gabe settled back against Ellis, who was stroking his hair, his other arm tucked over Gabe's chest.

"I'm sorry I freaked out," Gabe mumbled.

Mrs M had done her best to create some normality after Owen left, but it hadn't been completely successful. There's only so much hot sweet tea a person can drink before they lose it. Luckily, Owen had already contacted Ellis on his way to work, and Ellis had arrived just as Gabe was in the midst of devolving into a panic attack. The overwhelming relief had managed to snap him out of it, and Ellis had been soothing him ever since.

"Do you want to talk about it? Owen said he thought you'd got some memories back."

"Yeah, some," Gabe hedged, reluctant to admit the depth of it, which he knew would just make Ellis horrified and pity him. He wasn't used to pity, but he didn't think that's what would help him.

"You should tell Gray."

"I don't think I want him to be my therapist. It would be weird."

"Yeah, I get that. I don't think he would anyway, not for something like this. But he'd recommend someone for you."

"I can't afford it right now."

Ellis huffed, like he wanted to say something, and Gabe had a feeling he was itching to offer to pay for it, but Gabe didn't want to get into it. Besides, he thought he had some money. He remembered some bank account he should probably look into now. He should be paying his way anyway. In the meantime, he wanted to avoid Ellis offering out of some weird, misplaced, sense of guilt.

"I want to go to his funeral."

"What? Why?" Ellis looked nervous, which was reasonable.

Gabe had only thought of it in the time Ellis had been soothing him. Closure. He didn't know a lot about a lot, but he knew about the idea of that. If he didn't go to the funeral, he'd lose the chance to shut the book on his time with Sawyer.

He could simply tell Ellis that, but he knew it would sound stupid. If he was being honest, it sounded pretty stupid to him, too. The memories that flared bright in his mind now told him to stay as far away as possible from every part of Sawyer, even from him dead. But it was already eating at him, and it could only get worse.

He might have let Ellis persuade him to stay away, though, but Gray arrived home just then.

"Hey, Gabe, Ellis." He leaned over the couch and ruffled Gabe's hair, which was getting pretty long.

Gabe assumed Owen had contacted him, too, especially when he sat across from them, and crossed his leg over his knee in a way he probably thought looked a lot more casual than it did.

"Good day?" he asked, and Gabe sat up, knowing he'd have to face the concern at some point. He may as well get it over with.

"Not the best. I got my- I got some of my memories back."

Gabe could tell Gray didn't fully believe the correction, but he didn't say anything. Gabe had noticed Gray did that a lot. Nothing seemed to get past him, Gabe could tell by the sharp understanding in his eyes when it happened, but he never called anyone on it, not even Owen.

"Owen told me you'd found out Sawyer died," Gray said.

Gabe was a little surprised how bluntly it came up, though Gray didn't try to soften things all that much. No, Gabe had realized he either hid something completely or just came out with it.

"I want to go to the funeral," he announced, waiting for Gray to try to put him off like Ellis had wanted to.

"Okay. It's tomorrow. I can take you," Gray said matter of factly, exactly as though he'd been expecting it.

"Oh. Yes," Gabe said, suddenly losing his certainty.

"Ellis, I hear Frankie's brother has turned up," Gray said, and it would seem that was that. Gabe was going to the funeral.

* * * * *

Gabe didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. It hadn't been until the morning, when he was dressing in a dark suit borrowed from Owen, that he'd had the realization that Sawyer's friends would be there. Of course they would.

He'd met them multiple times throughout the relationship – if it could be called meeting them when he wasn't allowed to speak to them and barely allowed to even look at them. But there was only one incident that was making him flush with fear and disgust as they drove up a long, tree-lined driveway.

After so long, he wondered whether they'd even remember the night they'd helped Sawyer punish him. He assumed that they did that kind of thing all the time, though they never did it to him again. He wasn't sure, but he thought Sawyer's friend Matthew might have been the reason for that. He'd had a boyfriend back then, though Gabe couldn't remember his name anymore – it wasn't as though they'd ever had chance to be friends – and they'd broken up soon after that night. And it was about that time Sawyer's other friends stopped making leering remarks toward him, and Matthew started being pretty sharp with them – including Sawyer, which Gabe was always half impressed and half terrified by, not least because the bad mood it put Sawyer in.

It had been pretty close to the end of things when Matthew had disappeared from the group, though on the few occasions Sawyer had taken Gabe to the club, he'd seen the man from across the room, with that boy again, the one who'd been his boyfriend before. Sawyer had made comments to his other friends, called Matthew 'pussy-whipped' and said he'd come running back soon enough, but he hadn't.

Anyway, he had remembered all of that in less-than-glorious technicolor while he'd been preparing for the funeral. It had almost sent him into a panic attack, though Owen and Ellis had thought it was more general fear of the funeral and calmed him, and he'd let them, not wanting to get into it. He thought they might try to convince him not to go if he admitted the truth.

"Owen," he asked, looking over to where Owen was pretending to look out of the car window, but was really just poised to provide grounding if Gabe freaked out again. "you'll stay close, yeah?"

"Of course," Owen said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe it was, but Gabe didn't miss the worried little glance from Gray in the mirror.

The actual service, at a huge, personality-free cookie-cutter cemetery closer to the city, had been easy. There'd been a lot of people there, but none of them had known who he was, and he didn't know who they were either, though Gray had whispered that they were probably mainly people who'd worked with Sawyer. He hadn't seen Sawyer's two friends until near the end, and they hadn't spotted him, and he hadn't seen Matthew at all.

But the long drive to this enormous ranch-stye mansion in the country let him think about it too much. He went from being vaguely proud of himself that the sight of them across a field and over the heads of almost a hundred attendees hadn't made him vomit on the shiny black shoes Ellis had lent him, to being very honestly afraid that he would do just that here instead.

When they pulled up on the grass by the house, where a makeshift parking lot was being watched over by a young man with a moustache and a golden vest, Ellis arrived only moments later, driven by his Dom, François, who Ellis called Suzu, and Gray called Frankie. He hadn't heard Owen call him anything but Sir, but somehow it sounded natural, and they seemed to be friends despite the formality. Gabe was getting around it by not calling him anything.

He knew Ellis was worried his Dom would scare Gabe, after what he'd been through, but Gabe found that quite funny. Even though he could tell the big man was stern, he also had an element of 'gentle giant' about him – and was consistently and unfailingly tender towards Ellis. Besides, Sawyer hadn't been huge and muscular, but it was his memory that made Gabe tremble.

Gabe felt as though he had something of an entourage as they approached the line of people offering condolences to Sawyer's family – Ellis and Owen flanking him tightly and Gray and François close behind.

He could see it was Sawyer's family. There was an older woman and a younger woman, both of whom had an almost freakish resemblance to him. What gave him a handsome face looked a little harsh on them, although they were clearly attractive and confident women, with arrogance in the lines of their proud stances.

But it was the man who must be his brother that Gabe looked at and felt the burn of bile. Smaller and thinner and younger-looking, but their faces close to identical even given that. Gabe only calmed himself when he caught the tell-tale signs of cowering nervousness as the man was forced to greet each person in the line.

Gabe glanced nervously at the man standing behind him as they approached, wondering if he was the cause. He seemed caring – gently soothing big, tattooed, hands down the smaller man's arms between each person, bending for soft whispers that made him smile – weakly but genuinely. Gabe had been doing some reading recommended by Gray, and he knew not every abusive relationship was so apparent as his and Sawyer's, but he had a feeling it wasn't that large man who was the reason for Sawyer's brother's anxiety.

"We're sorry for your loss," Gray announced for them all.

To Gabe's surprise, the man appeared more animated at seeing them, taking each of their hands to shake, which he'd avoided for everyone else.

"How did you know Sawyer?" he asked, pretending he hadn't heard the big man hissing 'Stevie' as he took Gabe's hands and looked into his eyes.

It was as though he knew, and Gabe had an awful, inappropriate urge to turn to Owen and announce that thought out loud, but instead he focused on the light tremble in the slim, long fingered hands in his, so much more delicate than Sawyer's had been. He saw the extended line of a white scar running across the back of one hand, and he looked back up into the pale blue eyes – the same color as Sawyer's but somehow swimming with hard-fought life.

"We were together," he mumbled his response, and Stevie sucked in a breath, squeezing his hands, the shaking becoming more apparent.

"I'm so sorry. I'm- I just- I'm sorry for what happened."

Gabe knew Stevie wasn't talking about Sawyer's death, and he had a feeling he was actually referring to something bigger and deeper than Gabe even knew. This was someone who had had to grow up with Sawyer. Possibly out here on this huge ranch in the middle of nowhere. Gabe shuddered.

"Excuse us," the large man said, his voice extraordinarily deep and a little rough. The older woman turned to say something with a frown, but the man said, "Stevie's had enough, Veronica, I'm taking him inside," before she'd had chance to get it out, and she sighed a seemingly long-suffering sigh before smoothing her hair and turning to Gray with a practiced and flirtatious smile.

* * * * *

"You did it," Ellis stated the obvious, but Gabe didn't care, because he and Owen were sprawled around and on him like human blankets.

He had done it. He'd seen Sawyer's friends again at the wake, but the others had acted like a protective wall for the short time they'd stayed, so the men hadn't seen him, and he'd managed to keep his breakfast down. He felt shaky though, as if having to go there was just step one, and it highlighted how many more steps he'd have to get through before he belonged to himself again.

"Don't leave me," he said, only half joking, but Owen stiffened, sitting up.

"I've been thinking. I worry about you on your own. I know your nightmares are still happening, and I worry about you when I'm at work or when I go home."

Gabe sat up too, suddenly anxious that Owen was going to send him away. He didn't have – and couldn't find, even if he tried – anyone better than these friends. But he couldn't be a burden.

"I spoke to Ellis," Owen continued, taking Ellis' hand as though he needed the support, and Ellis nodded enthusiastically. "We think you should move there. Ellis can be around every day, and even when he goes to work you can go with him. You can stay in François' office with a book or something. You don't have to go in the club."

"You already do so much. Maybe I should find somewhere-,"

"No way, Gabe. Later, if you feel ready, sure. But right now, we'll be around you whether you like it or not. You can't get away from us looking after you that easy," Ellis insisted, taking his hand too.

Gabe felt guilt for taking over his friends' lives so much, but there was no pretending he'd be okay on his own. He needed them. And with how much they seemed to like being around him, maybe he was doing something good for them, too.