Kyle came home to a dark apartment. Again. He dropped his keys on the nearest table and turned on the hall light.

"Kay?" he called.

There were three options. Either she'd collapsed from exhaustion and was fast asleep, which had happened before, or she was waiting for him with candles in the bedroom, which had also happened before, or she wasn't home.

A quick sweep of the apartment made it pretty clear that it was option number three. The place was empty even if it was almost ten at night. With a heavy sigh, he dropped on the couch and called her. She didn't answer, but rejected his call. A message came through the following moment.

What? I'm with Angie and she's almost asleep.

He cringed because he was an insensitive moron and this hurt. Are you coming home after she falls asleep?

Pause. Then she finally answered. I'm tired, too. I'll just crash here.

Kay, you need to come home sometimes. I haven't seen you in two days. You've been at Angie's place every damn night for the past week. He stopped and looked at the message, then deleted it. He could already imagine Kay's rant on how he was an independent grownass man who could handle himself alone.

Okay. Sleep well.

Kyle tossed his phone on the coffee table and slouched on the couch, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted too, but he always found time for her. To text and ask how her day was going, to call and share a laugh, to come home in the evening and talk, watch a movie, cuddle her until she fell asleep.

That had been his life for a such a long time, it was weird to return to nothingness. The apartment somehow felt so cold and devoid of life without her there. And it wasn't even the lack of her presence that got to him most. He could handle being apart. It had happened before. She'd left on surveillance missions and so had he. But they'd still talked while they were away.

Now she didn't call, didn't have time for talking, was always so burnt out when they did, as if she was trying to give her life force to Angie and help her get over her gloom. The thing was, Angie had told Kay to go home. Kay insisted Angie wasn't ready yet. Kyle's opinion didn't matter.

So here he was, in a cold empty apartment. He picked up his phone again. I miss talking to you.

Just go to sleep already. We'll talk tomorrow.

"Alrighty, then."

He tossed his phone away again and lay back on the couch, his hands under his head. No point going into the bedroom. This was as good a place as any to sleep for a few hours. And he was way too pissed to handle an empty bed.

♠️

"Why are you sleeping on the couch all dressed up?"

Kyle jumped awake as Kay brushed past him and into the bedroom. What time was it and more importantly, was he hallucinating? Nope, since she came back out and headed for the closet in the hall from where she took out a carry on.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"I need to get more stuff. You always bring me so little and I'm out of a lot of basic necessities."

He bit back a curse as he followed her back into the bedroom where half her clothes were already spread out on the bed. Another round of cursing deployed inside his head as his sleepy mind started putting two and two together.

"You're moving out?" he asked.

Kay stopped and put her hand on his cheek, though she looked a little annoyed. "Of course not. I'll be back. I just need to be somewhere else for a while."

"Kay, come on." He put her hand over hers to keep it there. "I miss you. You haven't been home in forever."

She smiled, but it was weak and tired. "Neither have you. And isn't your grandmother coming today? Aren't you going back to your parents'?"

Shit, he'd totally forgotten about that. "That doesn't mean I have to sleep there."

"You can. There's no problem. I won't be here anyway." And she continued packing her bags as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

"Kay..."

She threw a glance over her shoulder that served as a warning that now was not the time to turn into a whining bitch. She probably had enough of that from Angie. So for the sake of keeping it friendly, he decided a change in strategy was in order.

"How's Angie?"

Kay shook her head. "Not much better. She's in denial. She still thinks he'll come back."

Kyle didn't like her tone at all. "Maybe he will. Maybe she's right and all Tom needs is a little time to figure out that he's a moron."

"I don't think she should take him back even if he changes his mind. He left her in the most horrible time of her life, when she needed him most."

"It's not like he knows that."

She turned to him again, her eyes narrowed. "Are you defending him?"

"What? No. I'm just stating facts."

She didn't believe him, it was obvious from how she huffed and focused on her luggage again. It was ready faster than he could compute what had happened and she rolled it into the hall.

"Talk to you later," she said, and, just like that, she was gone.

♠️

"Well, well, well, so you're back."

Damn Herrison and damn this to hell. Sam stood in front of the dreaded shrink's desk feeling the need to strangle somebody. Strangle her. The victorious look on her face made him want to rush out again, but he couldn't. It was either this or permanently stuck with a desk job. While looking at the woman, the desk job started to sound tempting.

"Astute observation, Captain Obvious ."

Skye Brandon decided to ignore him and indicated that he should have a seat instead. She was already seated and seemed much calmer today, her face devoid of snark. Sam followed her indication warily. She was acting too civil after their last encounter. She was obviously up to something.

She seemed to guess what he was thinking because she gave him a forced smile. "In case you were wondering, I've been forced into taking you back. And since we are forced to see each other, we might as well get it over with."

There was nothing Sam wanted more than to get this over with. "So, how are we going to do this? Do you ask some silly questions, sign me off and we're good?"

Her blue eyes flashed with obvious warning. "Unfortunately, I'm still a doctor. I took an oath, so I'm forced to try and help you." She leaned back in her chair, looking at the ceiling as if it were far more interesting than him.

"I don't want your help."

"I don't care. Now tell me what happened."

Sam gritted his teeth. Yep, he still didn't like her. "I'm not a special snowflake and I'm disappointed."

She waved him away. "The faster you stop being a brat, the faster we can get this over with. Now, tell me what happened."

Oh, God, he wanted to strangle her, so maybe getting it over with fast was a good idea. "My girlfriend cheated on me and now I'm depressed. The end."

Skye narrowed her eyes. "You don't seem like the type to get depressed over something so trivial. There must be more to it. If you're honest with me, maybe I can actually help you. Then this won't be a waste of our time."

"You've made it pretty clear that you don't want to help me."

She waved him away again, like he was a dust mite she didn't want infesting her respiratory tract. "It's not about what I want. It's about what I have to do."

Sam looked at her skeptically. Maybe she had a point. As long as he was here, he might as well give it a try. It wasn't like it could get any worse. "Okay, fine, if you want to know."

"Not really, but go ahead. Anything you have to say can't be more boring than just staring at each other. You're not exactly a masterpiece painting."

Sam couldn't agree more. He wasn't enthralled by her hidden beauty either. It was buried so deep, a team of spelunkers couldn't find it. "How much do you know about it?"

"Not more than you just told me. So I'd like you to be a bit more specific. Start with the beginning."

Sam took in a big breath, sure it was bullshit and she knew more. It was weird talking to a stranger about it, but maybe the doctor's perspective would be more objective and he could see things in a different light. God knew he needed a different light. 

"Christine and I have been together... had been together for three years. That might not seem that long to you, but when you fight for your life every other month, it tends to build strong connections between people."

Skye started taking notes. "So Christine knows about the Agency, about your secret life."

"Yeah, she even underwent some training of her own at some point."

Skye lifted her face from her notes. "Why did she stop?"

Sam rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe they decided it wasn't necessary since she doesn't exactly go out into the field. She's only been on one mission so far, if you ignore the one in which she was kidnapped."

"Mhm." Skye tapped her pen to the desk. "So, have you been saving her a lot?"

Okay, that was a question he'd never asked himself. Maybe Skye wasn't such a waste of time after all. He tried to go back and remember every incident over the past years. He couldn't say it was a lot. "I guess not."

"So you didn't save her when she got kidnapped?"

"Well, yes, in the end."

"Then why do you sound like it doesn't count?"

"Because I'm not sure it does." He was so bad at being a hero, the notion of him actually saving someone was foreign. Even now, after so many years, he still felt iffy about his saving abilities. Back then, it was even worse. Did he even save her from the kidnapping or were they both saved? No, I actually did the saving that time. "Okay, yes, it counts."

"That was a long pause." Skye squinted at him, then jotted something down in her notebook. "So, this counts whereas all the saving you might have done in..." She checked something in a file which lay open on the desk. "Mexico doesn't. Why?"

He knew she had more information than she let on! "Why what?"

"Why does this one count?"

"Because I did it by myself."

She raised her eyebrows. "And on the other occasions..."

"I've had help, yes."

"How many times has it been? Including the times you had help."

Why did that even matter? But Sam decided to humor her and wait for her point, so he thought long and hard. It wasn't that hard to remember considering he almost died every time. "Three."

Just three. Maybe because Christine hasn't exactly been on a lot of missions. What the hell was he doing? Christine not being in danger was a good thing. This wasn't a competition. But it sounded unimpressive. Who am I trying to impress again?

"And you believe one out of three counts. Okay, what did you do?" She rested her chin on her joined hands as if she was watching a mildly interesting TV show. "How did you save her?"

The memory still sent a jolt to his stomach. "She was held in a room..." Where two brutes were trying to rape her. But he wasn't saying that out loud. He'd been trying to block out the thought for almost three years. "And I broke through the window to get to her."

Skye raised her eyebrows. "You broke through a window." It wasn't a question so Sam didn't bother answering. "How?"

Where was she going with this? "Do you want the mechanics or what? I swung from my room to hers using a device we call "the magnet." As much as he tried to contain it, his voice quivered the tiniest bit. The memory of dangling above the raging Cher river still sent shivers down his spine. Deep down he was afraid that, if necessary, he wouldn't be able to do it again.

"You're making yourself seem awfully dull. There's more to it. Don't leave out the essence of your actions."

Apparently she was more trained than he gave her credit for. "I'm afraid of heights." The simple statement had nothing to do with the terrifying feeling of falling into an endless void.

"I see." She started writing in her notebook again, even if her tone implied that she didn't see anything. "And after overcoming your fear of heights this one time, have you experienced any other episodes?"

He didn't like her disbelieving tone. "Are you asking if I'm still afraid of heights? Yes, of course I am. I doubt that a one time thing cures phobias."

"Since then, have you been faced into situations where you had to be high up?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes."

"Interesting." She scribbled some more. "And how do you handle it?"

Badly. But he didn't throw up and managed to control his vertigo long enough to pull himself back to safety. "I don't freeze anymore. But otherwise I still get dizzy and nauseous. What do you keep writing? And how is my fear of heights relevant?"

Skye put the pen down in dramatic slow motion. "It is. Because I don't think you're afraid of heights, but suffer from another affliction."

This was new. And it actually gave him some hope. "Really? Like what?"

She joined her hands. "I think you're an attention seeking snowflake."

Sam blinked trying to process what he'd just heard. "I'm a what? No, scratch that."

Skye didn't care. She continued presenting her latest bullshit theory. "Your supposed fear of heights is merely a way for you to seek attention, to make it about you. Christine is captured, so it's not about you. You invent a phobia to shift the focus to you and how hard everything is for you."

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to control the need to throw something at this snide woman who thought she had him all figured out. "You know how this was all about me? Let me clue you in. It should be very obvious to you. Inadequacy. I was unable to save Christine. Everyone was there, except her, because, unlike me, Kyle, Jimmy and Tom can ace this hero thing. Angie was kidnapped too, but she..." The memory of her saving his ass from Snitch Gravel's men still gave him an uneasy feeling.

"Interesting." Skye leaned back into her chair, the pen once again in her hand, acting like she hadn't just insulted him. "Tell me more about Angie."

"What?" The woman was giving him whiplash. "She's Tom's girlfriend. Was."

She squinted at him. "You're a lot more interesting than I thought. How do you and Tom get along?"

"Great. What's your point?" The air seemed to be getting scarce as she kept watching him through narrowed eyes, a smile he could only describe as evil on her lips.

"You're tone when you speak about her..."

"She's hurt," he snapped. "Of course I'm protective of her. The breakup really messed her up."

"Shouldn't you be on your twin's side?"

"Not after he cheated on her." The words were out before he could control them, because the whole conversation was making his blood boil. He regretted letting it out, but keeping the secret was eating him from the inside more than he'd even realized. She has to keep it confidential, she's a therapist. She wasn't a trustworthy person.

"So you're identifying yourself with Angie," Skye said.

"It's not the same thing. Tom's was a one time drunken mistake. Christine had a long time affair."

"I see..." She started writing again. "So you have a martyr complex as well."

"I have a what now?"

"Tom's pain, Angie's pain, you take it all upon yourself. You suffer for them because you need to suffer, you need to make it about you. It's hurting you. You're the victim."

What the fucking hell? "I'm hurting over Christine already, genius."

She leaned forward, that disgusting victorious glint still in her eyes. He never thought he could hate blue eyes, but now he totally did.

"But they broke up after you, didn't they? You were no longer the relevant one. Old news."

Anger surged through Sam in violent waves. He didn't want to hear her making him into a selfish douche, not anymore. Not when he did his best to put others first. So he stood and headed for the door. "Screw you, lady."

Fortunately, she didn't answer, saving herself from more of his rage. Once outside in the empty hall, he leaned against the wall and covered his eyes. The cool and the darkness did him good. I'm not selfish. It's not all about me. Angie is my friend and nothing more, no matter what that sick woman is implying. The Angie thing had been resolved a long time ago. You're three years too late, woman.

"I can't believe I told her to screw off," he mumbled into his fists. It was like she was bringing out the worst in him. And the session hadn't helped. She'd veered so far away from his issue, from dealing with the pain Christine had caused him, instead making him feel like a selfish prick.

Why couldn't some things be about him too? Jerry was much better at actually cheering him up. Therapy only made him angry. So angry that he still felt the need to throw something.

For a second, he contemplated going back inside and screaming at her some more. Telling her how useless she was, but he was better than that. He just hoped she'd tell Herrison that this was it, and let him start working properly again. Was it too much to ask for?

He was fortunately distracted by his phone ringing. Shockingly, it was Ron, so he answered immediately.

"Hey, Sam,"  his uncle said, not even waiting for a hello. "I'm in town and need a place to crash. Any suggestions. Except Kyle's place if it's possible. They're entirely too loud."

Sam doubted anyone was too loud anymore. Ron had no idea it had all fallen apart since the last time they'd spoken. There were a lot of empty places he could use, but Sam didn't want that. He wanted a big family reunion and to force some responsibility on him.

"Finally! We missed you," he said, keeping his tone as light and as innocent as possible. "We're all home for a while. Dad's not there so we can totally sneak you in. Wanna crash with all of us?"

There was a suspicious pause from the other end. Then Ron laughed. "Hide away in Freider's house while he's not there? Count me in!"

"Awesome. We'll have a room ready for you and a special entrance up a back window."

"Sounds like my type of thing. See you tomorrow."

Yes, tomorrow. When his grandma would be there. Because as far as Sam was concerned, it was about time the two finally saw each other again.

♠️

Life went on. Between whispers, jeers and pointing fingers, the world kept turning, the sun kept rising, and Tom was pretty sure he'd throw up soon if he didn't eat some proper food. He couldn't function on energy drinks alone. They did help blur everything but his immediate focus, which was a blessing at the moment. At least classes were quiet.

He'd always had the superpower of ultimate ignoring, so he used it to the full, ignoring everything that didn't have an academic purpose. He answered questions, gave explanations, and interacted with his peers as long as it was school related.

You're still breathing. Nothing changed except that you're now dead inside. Big deal. He could even learn to deal with the guild eventually and not feel like a total piece of shit. All he needed was time and someone to hate. He'd hate himself and learn to live with it.

He was totally walking this off like a champ. And now he had the chance to go home and get distracted by extended family.

"Hi, Tom."

He froze. The voice got to him because it reminded him why his life was the way it was at the moment. She had to be kidding. But she was there, looking so much less like Angie in the daylight and when he wasn't drunk out of his mind. Her hair was black and wavy, but obviously dyed, and the green of her eyes was obviously not natural.

"What are you doing here?" He groaned as she bounced next to him.

"I haven't heard from you in a while," she said, fortunately not touching him.

"You're not going to." he fought the repulsion he felt towards her because it wasn't her fault that he'd been drunk and hallucinating. As far as she was concerned, it had been consensual.

She faltered at his words, her eyes wide and confused. God, did she really think she meant something?

"Look." He sighed, trying his best not to be an ass. "I was drunk and you knew it. I'm not... That's not going to happen again."

"Oh." She bit her lip, looking sad. What the hell was she expecting? Them to start dating? She had to be out of her mind. "Do you at least remember it?"

No, and he'd rather not force himself to. All he remembered was his hallucination and that had felt amazing, though he refused to believe the feeling was real. "I know it happened."

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lower lip. "Okay, I get it. You just broke up. But... When you'll want to start dating again, give me a call." And just like that, she slipped a note in his hand.

"Yeah, sure." Like he'd ever go out with a psycho stalker girl. Though maybe that was what he deserved.

It didn't matter. He was eerily certain that he'd never get over Angie.

♠️♠️♠️

Wow, this turned out long. Anyway... It might be the last update for a while. Though the way I set it up, I think the next chapter will be a lot more interesting.

I didn't initially plan to have Sam's second therapy session so soon, but then I decided why wait? Let you have more delicious interaction between him and his delicious shrink. Any thoughts on her? (I'm enjoying her messing with Sam just to much). Does she have a point or is she just having fun?

Stay tooned for master plot action in the next chapter, whenever I get around to it. Also maybe you'll just find out Kyle's middle name 😅

Vote and comment for the goat 🐐 (stole it from someone else. Her name is Beatrice).