Tom's plan had been to stay back with his mother, should she need something. The day had been hectic and he needed time to think. Their list hadn't come any closer to help him figure out what to do, how to feel.

For once, Kyle was going home with Kay, which in itself felt like Freider's supposed glorious death was worth it. The thought filled him with guilt, but it didn't make it less true.

Sam obviously needed Skye, and Tom seriously considered some therapy of his own. It seemed to do wonders for his twin. Jerry and Jimmy would be going to Sarah's place to spend the last few hours of their stay.

He had nowhere to go, so it made sense for him to stay behind and help his mom throw out the guests. Only that, as they finally came out of that stifling office full of secrets and lies, their living room was empty except for the girls.

"What do you know," Kyle muttered. "People do get hints sometimes."

"Ron yelling was enough for us to get the message that you should maybe be left alone," Kay said, getting off the couch.

Kyle nodded and took her hand before heading for the door. Skye and Sarah stood, too, seeming very comfortable around each other.

"I know it's way past your normal schedule," Sam said, "but can we have a crash session?"

Skye just nodded and Tom had to admit that he was a little disappointed she didn't ask Sam to take her home instead. There was just something about them that pushed Tom to believe it would've been much better for both of them. Something also told him that they'd both be much better making out, but that was unlikely to happen.

Sarah said goodbye to everyone, too, and he was finally left alone with his father's ashes. In the silence, it felt like the urn was mocking him, chastising him for his earlier thoughts.

"I'm guessing you want to be alone."

He jumped a mile, his heart beating erratically, and turned to Angie who was curled up in one of the armchairs. She stood, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. She was much better company than an urn.

"Not necessarily. Dad's suddenly not such a good conversation partner."

She covered her mouth with her hand, most likely covering up an inappropriate smile. He couldn't help it. He was nothing if not inappropriate.

"Want me to take you home?" he asked.

"Only if you want. I can take a cab..."

"You came. It's the least I can do."

She didn't argue and grabbed her jacket. He followed her out, but they both stopped in the late autumn wind. It was dark now and the street was quiet. The light coming from his living room painted the dried-up lawn in uneven squares.

Angie hesitated for a few more seconds, then turned to face him. "Do you want to talk?"

She knew him so well. He nodded and sat on a small, ornamental wall his mom used to control the growth of her flowers. Since it was almost winter, the flowers were long gone, leaving the stones bare. She sat next to him, placing her hands between her knees.

"What happened in there?" she asked. "Why did Ron and Bill storm out like that with your grandmother?"

"Let's just say Dad decided to leave some backhanded apologies to people instead of stuff and it got a little out of hand."

"Oh." She looked at her feet and nibbled on her lower lip. 

She didn't have to say anything, he knew what she was thinking and he was reminded of the Angie he'd first met, the poor desperate one.

Because no matter how many things change in your life and how secure you are, the traumas in your childhood never truly leave. It was that way for Angie. Even if she had money to spare now, a small part of her was still the broke little girl who accepted food from strangers.

"Yes," he said, "I did inherit stuff. Money, lands, crap, and a quarter of this house after Mom dies."

"What?" She turned to him with wide eyes, obviously seeing the problem there. "Tell me he didn't."

"Leave Kyle out of the will? Of course not. There was an entire paragraph about him and how Dad wishes he could take his name."

Angie bit her lip harder and looked away again, her feet swaying with increased speed. "That's just not fair."

"Of course it's not. Especially because we checked and Kyle is as legitimate as they come. And the firstborn on top of that. Looks so much like our grandfather, it's scary. And yet..."

"What the hell was your dad's problem?"

"That's what we're all wondering. Not like he can shed a light on it now."

They fell silent after that. Tom had to admit that talking to her about it made him feel a lot better. Because breaking up with Angie had hurt him in more ways than one. Sure, he loved her and wanted her and by God, if she threw him a bone it would be so hard to resist, but he'd also missed the comfort and friendship part of their relationship. If he were honest, he missed that more than the passion and the sex. Though the sex was great. And now he wished he could stop thinking about it.

Angie suddenly took his hand and he jumped and looked her way. It turned out she was just removing it from her knee. He had no idea when he'd placed if there. She didn't let go and looked at their joined hands, her head tilted.

"Thoughts getting a bit hard to handle?" When he just nodded, she asked, "Want to share?"

"No. You really don't want to know what's going through my mind right now."

She raised her eyes, still holding his hand. "I think saying you're in pain is a safe bet."

"You have no idea." He regretted his words instantly. "Sorry. You do have an idea. You know exactly how I feel." Because, after all, she'd lost what he did and then some.

"At least the press is not on my ass," she mumbled.

"And thank God for that."

"Why does everything suck so much?" Her voice shook, like she was on the verge of tears.

"Probably karma asking for payback after all those years of happiness."

"They never felt real, did they?"

Her words cut what was left of his heart. "They were real to me." That sounded so pathetic. It was about time he stopped moping about this. It was his choice after all.

"That's not what I meant. I meant they did seem like something out of a fairytale. Something that couldn't last."

That he could agree with. And it made him feel even stupider for truly believing that he could have it all. Family, love, pursuing the subject he loved, a cool career. Life didn't work like that, not for him. The pain in his chest threatened to smother him.

As if she could guess how he felt, Angie hopped off the wall, moved in front of him and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, his head resting against her chest. The turmoil inside him eased as he focused all his energy on pretending this wasn't going to end, that they wouldn't break apart and everything would be just as miserable as before. That nothing had happened. She hadn't left, he hadn't cheated.

She didn't let him go, holding him to her, trying to put him back together. Put herself back together. Her chest rose and fell with a silent sob.

Tom let her go and stood so he could take her in his arms properly and hold her. He owned her this. To comfort her for what happened to her parents, for how shitty life was, for how it had fucked them both over.

She started crying quietly, holding on to him like her life depended on it. He took his sunglasses off with one hand and stuffed them in his back pocket so he could bury his face in her hair. Tears filled his eyes, but he didn't bother wiping them, just let them flow together with all his emotions.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "So, so sorry."

Angie sunk her hands in his hair, but didn't look at him, so they continued standing, holding each other, comforting each other. Because, in truth, they didn't have anyone else there. Sam and Jerry had managed, but he didn't think he ever would. That Jimmy ever would. And it sucked because he at least still had Angie. An Angie that was there to hug him when he needed it, despite everything. He loved her so much and yet it wasn't enough.

The minutes or the hours ticked by, but he didn't mind. He could grow old like that, holding her, listening to her breathing. Her sobs had died down and she lowered her hands from his hair and wrapped them around his waist.

"I should go," she whispered.

And he should let her. So with a nod, he pulled away and followed her to the car. He felt both hollow and more full than he had in weeks, and he could accept what had happened, treasure the memory and move on, because it didn't change anything.

She was silent on the ride, but it was a loaded type, as if she wanted to start a conversation, but didn't know what to say.

"How's school?" he asked, to end the silence.

"I wouldn't know," she said with a shrug. "I've been suspended."

He threw her a sideways glance. "Um, what? Why?" Angie was definitely not the type to get suspended. But maybe missing classes had something to do with it.

"I..." She bit her lip, but sighed, as if deciding there was no use hiding it. "I punched Suzanna. And apparently hitting your peers is frowned upon, even if it's backstabbers who try to steal your identity and screw your boyfriend when he's drunk."

"O-Kay..." Her words both hurt since they were a reminder and filled him with the strange desire to laugh.

"I'm not saying what you did was justified, it's just..." She faltered, pursing her lips. "She did do her best to look like me."

"Still no excuse. I know." He still couldn't believe he could confuse anyone for her.

"I... I wanted to tell you something, but never got around to it," she said. "When I was in Arizona, I found out that my dad used to work for the Agency. So his accident, the abject poverty we lived in..."

Tom cursed under his breath, hating that there wasn't a red light in sight that would allow him to stop the damn car and turn to her. He could tell she wouldn't appreciate him pulling over and that she was bringing this up precisely because he could only look at her for a few seconds before focusing back on traffic.

"Anyway," she said before he could interject, "it got me thinking. My father obviously messed up in some way, then we have William who had that supposed accident which turned him all cooky... Herrison and Harry, Christine, Tina and the Professor... Don't you see a pattern here?"

He pondered on this as he continued driving, the information bringing out a mild suspicion he'd had at some point. "So you're saying that all of us were recruited because we had someone in the Agency before."

"Yes. Someone who, at one point, screwed up."

It had crossed his mind that it could be a family thing once he realized that all his relatives were basically in on it. And now that the issue was out, he had two possible explanations.

"You're wondering who it was for us," he said. "I have two theories."

"Already?"

"Yes, this has been going through my mind for a while as well."

"You never mentioned it." She sounded hurt, as if he'd kept something hidden from her.

"I wasn't sure there was anything to mention. Anyway... Option number one. It was our grandfather, and the car accident that killed him and our mysterious uncle wasn't an accident after all."

"Wait, back up a bit, what uncle?"

Tom let out a laugh. Right. Not everyone was privy to just how twisted his family was. "Apparently there was a fourth brother in my father's family who died the same year as our grandfather. We presume at the same time, which would explain why grandma went bonkers. And it would make so much sense for them to have been in the Agency and unwillingly leave this mess to us. My second theory is Snitch Gravel."

"Um... what?"

He took in a deep breath. "We all know by now that Snitch Gravel was in the Agency and ditched. Maybe we were recruited precisely because he hated our father and the Agency thought we would be best suited to bring him down, without any other family ties involved."

"Shit, you're right." Angie paused for a moment and they finally reached their once place.

Tom pulled over in front of the apartment building, wondering if he should tell Angie that Snitch Gravel didn't really kill his father. He didn't feel like getting into that, he was still digesting it himself. Kay would surely tell her anyway. Or Sam. The thought of Sam and Angie together still had his stomach twisting.

"Just so you know, we found out something else a bit shocking tonight. I don't want to talk about it right now and I'm sure Kay or Sam will tell you. I just don't want you to feel betrayed that I didn't."

"Nothing has changed, Tom," she said, sounding tired. "You don't owe me anything."

"I owe you everything." Silence fell after his affirmation, so he felt the need to clarify. "But you're right. It doesn't change anything. We're still very much over." Why did the words hurt like a bitch every time? He and Angie were obviously very capable of having a normal, friendly relationship not filled with awkward avoidance.

Or not.

"Good night." Without waiting for an answer, she got out of the car.

He pulled away, watching her in the rearview mirror, and he could swear she wiped her eyes before entering the building.

♠️

Kyle couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so drained, even if every day in the past weeks had been brutal. Come to think about it, he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt burnt out. Maybe he was working too much.

"I can't believe he cut you out of his will," Kay mumbled in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped around her knees.

There was that, too. The death of Freider and the whirlwind that followed. He hadn't even allowed himself to think about it properly, too exhausted to analyze all the lies and the implications involved. Not even his own feelings. But something had broken when Freider decided to give him one final kick from beyond the grave.

"You could challenge it, you know. Get what's rightfully yours," Kay continued.

"What would be the point? I don't need the money and it's not like I can make him take back what he said." He'd just be stirring trouble for the rest of his family, the one that mattered.

"It's just not fair! How can you let him get away with this?"

"He's dead, Kay. Whatever I do now doesn't matter as far as he's concerned."

His words came out rough and silenced her. She sniffed and wiped her eyes and he felt bad. This affected her too, even if she'd never liked Freider. It was still someone she knew dying. It was that more than everything, actually.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is all so confusing. So much information, so many questions. Especially about what really happened between your parents and Snitch Gravel. You need to drill it out of your mom."

He winced, the thought extremely unpleasant. Because Maxi was certainly going to deflect. It was a wonder she'd come forward and told them as much as she had.

They reached their building and got in the elevator, both of them silent. Once the doors of he elevator closed, Kay wrapped his arms around him and rested her head on his chest. He hugged her back, grateful that they'd been able to put their differences aside for the past few days.

Her hands ran up and down his back and she lifted her head and kissed his jaw. It was starting to look like more than comfort, but he let her, needing her touch and the warmth of her body. His acceptance seemed to encourage her, because her hands moved to his face and she looked him in the eyes. He recognized the hunger there and part of him was thrilled. The other part was still monumentally pissed so he was glad the elevator stopped and they could go into the apartment.

Kay kicked her shoes off and took his face in her hands again.

"What are you doing?" he asked before she could go any further.

"Trying to make you feel better."

"You are making me feel better." He lowered her hands and headed for the kitchen table. Yes, she'd been by his side, yes, they'd gotten along, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't going to erase their issues or what she'd done. What he'd done.

"Do you need to be alone?" she asked from the doorway.

He didn't know. He groaned and leaned his forehead against the surface of the table. Everything was so confusing. He didn't even know how he felt about Freider dying and that was a lot more pressing than he's problem with Kay and her sexual manipulation.

Kay sat in front of him. "Does it hurt?"

It was a stupid question to ask someone whose father had just died, and his mother had come as a close second, but she knew his relationship with Freider had been crappy.

"I don't know." If he were completely honest, Freider's little stunt with the will had made Kyle stop feeling guilty about not being heartbroken in the first place. Maybe that was his gift, a true, useful inheritance.

"Did you love him?"

An even tougher question. They'd spent so little time together... And even less quality time. Yes, Freider had praised him sometimes, joked with him, looked proud. But that couldn't change everything. The abandonment, the criticism, his hatred for Kay and for the thought of them together. Hitting his mother and fleeing the house like a coward.

"I loved what he was supposed to represent," he finally said. "I never really had a father and I wanted one."

Kay winced. It sounded bad. And sad. But it was the truth. And what scared him most about Freider dying was that he was now the oldest, the head of the family. There was no one else, no one there to look after his mother, no one to take responsibility for this whole Snitch Gravel bullshit. Because his mother needed protecting. She was an irresponsible little girl with a closet filled with skeletons.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," Kay said.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Then she stood and walked to him, took his face in her hands and looked down at him. There was a lingering sadness in her eyes, but there was also a fire he knew too well. It made him shiver. She pushed back against the table with her butt, moving it out of the way enough to climb into his lap. Normally, he'd be all over this, but it reminded him too much of how she'd used him last time, taken advantage of his weakness. He was still disgusted with himself about it.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she lowered her face towards his.

"What do you think?" she whispered, her voice breathy.

A giant part of him wanted to hold her, get lost in her, but it would only make him hate himself more. He was never going down that road again.

"We just came back from a funeral."

Kay faltered. She pulled away a little, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment. "I just thought it would make you feel better."

It normally would have, no matter whose funeral. "Nothing changed, Kay."

In a flurry, she climbed off him, her fists clenched, her eyes brimming with tears of shame. "I was by your side."

"Of course you were. You're my girlfriend."

"Am I, Kyle? Am I really?" Her voice rose with every word. "Because you've been ignoring me for the past three weeks."

"I haven't been ignoring you. But I told you and I stand behind what I said. I'm not going to let this go. Not until you try to fix things for once."

"What, are we counting now? Who messed up more? Who hurt the other? Because I remember you saying you don't care about that."

That was true. And he was a little surprised she remembered. "That was true then." Sarah's words from the elevator came to his mind, how she'd seen this coming, had guessed without even meeting both of them. "But I'm sick of running this relationship by myself. You're supposed to be my copilot, not some passenger by the door, the first to jump out of the plane."

Kay glared at him, her hands shaking, then, in her regular fashion when she felt she was losing, she stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door after her. He let out a deep sigh. He knew this wasn't helping their relationship, that all it took to make it good again was a small step from his part. Let her kiss him and take over. Throw her into bed. She'd learned her lesson and would be all sweet and attentive from them one.

The only one stopping them from fixing this was him. But he was sure that if he gave in to her, he'd lose a bit of himself.

Sarah had been right. Kay should fight for their relationship and sacrifice her pride to make it work as much as he did. He'd swallowed his so many times, he wasn't even sure he had any left. Just stubbornness and too much pain to handle.

There had been no cheating, no giant secret to tear them apart, no falling out of love. But sometimes, even without those, everything just fell apart.

♠️♠️♠️

I have done some progress with future chapters, so I decided to update. And what better way to continue the story than with the aftermath of Freider's death.

How's everyone handling it? Were you expecting it to be a reason for reconciliation? Is Kyle just being too damn stubborn? Sarah did end up screwing their relationship up after all.

Stay tuned for more heart to heart next part after which we're on the Sam train because hell yeah, he has stuff to do.