Sam folded his forearms over the banister of the lookout point in the park. It was late, the day had been an emotional mess, so it was strange that he'd decided to come here out of all places. Where he'd come the night he'd found out about Christine and Harry. Where he'd considered throwing himself off the ramp to end it all.

"It's a beautiful place," Skye whispered from his left.

He gave her a sideways glance. She wasn't sarcastic and didn't appear bothered that he'd asked her to join him there. The truth was, after the funeral and the whole legal business, he needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn't a family member ready to fly off the handle. He was one second away from doing that himself.

"I used to live around here," he says.

She read between the lines with ease. "With Christine."

"Yep."

She was probably inside his apartment right now. Or maybe out partying again. The thing was, for the first time in what felt like years, he didn't care. Sure, the thought of Christine and how their relationship ended still hurt, but he wasn't the least bit tempted to see her, speak to her, yell at her. What would be the point anyway? Love hadn't changed her so he doubted hate would.

"You know you have to see her again, don't you?" Skye asked, her eyes taking in the lights of the city. "Harry, too."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't get closure with either of them." She turned to him, determination in her eyes. "And because you will run into them, on the street, high school reunions, maybe weddings or funerals. I can't consider you fully healed until you're somewhat able to function around them."

It was an interesting thought. Christine surely knew his father was dead, the papers wouldn't shut up about it, but she hadn't stopped by. Tina hadn't either. Maybe all the better since Jerry was with Sarah now, but it was still a little strange. Had they been afraid they would be thrown out? Was it really that bad that they couldn't come down to offer their sympathies to the family of someone they knew? People they supposedly still cared about? Hadn't Christine claimed she wanted them to work things out?

"You're thinking that Christine didn't come to your father's funeral, aren't you?"

"Sometimes I think you're a mind reader," Sam mumbled.

"I did say funeral, so of course your mind would go there. How do you feel about it?"

"What, the funeral or Christine not coming to it?"

"Both."

He let out a sigh and his eyes went astray. The city lights blurred together in a mesmerizing dance of a billion shades of gold. He really loved this place with the overhead foliage, the decorative fountains at the bottom leading into a busy city street and the entire skyline spread out before him. Even if it could be considered a height, he wasn't afraid, wasn't nauseous. He just felt... Free.

"I don't know," he finally said. "I have two completely different images of my father which I can't reconcile. The man from my childhood, the one who raised me and who would challenge me and ask goofy questions, and the man he turned into over these past years."

"Do you really think he turned into someone else?"

That was an interesting question, but he shouldn't be surprised. Skye knew what to ask to get his mind working. "I'm not sure, because the more I find out about his past, about what he used to be like when he met my mother and this whole Snitch Gravel thing started... I think this part we've seen in recent years just resurfaced. This is who he was and, for a while, his family tamed him."

She just nodded, her gaze lost somewhere in the distance. He could tell she was exhausted and he felt bad for keeping her with him, asking for more time. But he couldn't tell her to go home, not when he felt so lost.

"Confusion is keeping away the pain," she finally said.

"I guess. I feel... Lost."

She turned to him, a mild frown creating a crinkle between her eyebrows. "How so?"

The question shocked him. It was so obvious and she'd guessed much more difficult things.

"My father died and yet my resent towards him is not going away. That live and let die thing is bullshit." He faltered, trying to pull himself back together, but his hands were suddenly shaking. "I feel so guilty because I loved him, I really did, but I just love my memory of him. I..."

Shit, this was getting out of hand, like word vomit coming out of him, voicing feelings he hadn't even figured out yet.

"I'm so angry with him and my mother and... Snitch Gravel. He owes me nothing and yet, I'm angry at him. Because they keep lying. My dad wasn't even capable to leave answers in his will, just more bullshit questions. Cutting Kyle off? What the hell? What was his problem? And another uncle we knew nothing about? When will all this bullshit end?"

He couldn't breathe. All the words had come out much faster than he could take in air and perhaps jumbled up into an intelligible mess. Now he had to supply his lungs and brain with oxygen because he was going insane.

Skye grasped his shoulders and gave him a little shake, but it only seemed to rattle him more, send a few other screws loose.

"And Christine and Harry. This is maybe the suckiest time of my life and they weren't there. Maybe not for me, but for the others, for the people they insist are their friends. Angie was there, even if she and Tom broke up. You were there even if you have nothing to do with our twisted family. But them..."

She shushed him and pulled him into a hug. It set his entire body on fire, driving the madness out of his head. The way she held him against her, stroking his hair, brought on an entire different type of madness.

But in spite of that, it calmed him down. It was okay. Freider was dead and he could come to peace with that. Love the father who raised him and get used to a life without answers. Nothing new there. His mother was nothing but a helpless child. And Christine and Harry... He was done expecting things from them.

Everything would work out eventually. Because he had his brothers and they'd figure this all out.

Because he had her.

You don't. You're just finding comfort where you shouldn't. But was it wrong to like it, to feel like it healed him?

His fingers dug into her waist then trailed up and down her back. Maybe it was from the cold, but she shivered. This wasn't okay, because it wasn't real. It feels real. So real that it was frightening. Not a teenage fantasy like his relationship with Christine had started out.

No, just and impulsive need to be loved by someone. Skye doesn't love you. He didn't love her. He just clung to her like a drowning man.

"You shouldn't be doing this," he mumbled into her hair. "You're enabling me."

"Doesn't it make you feel better?"

"Well, yes, but you don't have to do this, this can't be good or comfortable for you."

"Hugs are medicine, Snowflake. Even for doctors."

The answer was weird and sent a strange thrill through him. The way she held him, the way she ran her fingers along his jawline, the tenderness in her voice.

"Skye..." God, his voice had come out all wrong, too intimate. "This is..."

She pulled away and grinned at him. "Don't worry your pretty little head. I'm doing this to make you feel better. I'm not falling in love with you, if that's what your worried about, and I'm well aware that this is nothing but a coping mechanisms for you."

Her words stang like an unexpected slap to the face. He let her go and pulled back, trying to control the sudden wave of anger, the betrayal he felt. She didn't owe him anything, she was his doctor, and she was right. He wasn't in love with her, just using her as an outlet for his feelings. Why did he get butthurt when she pointed it out?

Because she sounded like the old Skye, the one who didn't give a shit about him.

But she does. No matter her voice, no matter her words, she's doing this. Subjecting herself to physical contact just to make you feel better. She cares about you.

The anger subsided and weariness slithered through him, paralyzing him. The look in her eyes turned worried and she took a step towards him. Sam turned his back to her and leaned his forearms against the railing of the platform.

"Sam?"

He didn't answer. The hurricane of emotions he'd felt after the funeral had subsided. What was left was the burning desire to love someone. But it was bearable now that he knew it was there. He felt better.

Skye leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

Yep, he felt a lot better. He felt functional for some reason. Like his old self but better, stronger. Life had hit him in the face, but his Jenga tower still stood. Because unlike what Skye had thought, his parents weren't his family. His brothers were.

"You deserve to be loved, Sam," Skye said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. "You have your issues, but you try so hard. You're a wonderful person."

He grinned. "Stop saying that, or I'll start believing it."

"About time you did."

How could he feel so comfortable after everything that happened? But, for once, he screwed guilt and just accepted the positive feeling.

"I think I'm ready to face Harry and Christine," he said. "I even rented out a new place, so I'll need my old stuff back."

"That sounds great."

It did. And when he leaned his head over hers and they stood in silence, looking over the skyline of Chicago, ther world was suddenly filled with hope.

♠️

Jimmy sat at Sarah's kitchen table, papers spread out before him, chewing on the end of his pencil. Most of them were plans and calculations for the satellite he had to fix. The one sheet in front of him proved more problematic even if it was technically the simplest.

My father died. And I have no idea how to feel about it. The good news is that I feel. I've been forcing myself to do that a lot lately, even if for small periods of time. It's really hard without you. It doesn't come natural anymore.

Anyway, I'm trying to force some guilt into myself because I'll be damned if I feel anything about him dying. Kyle called him Freider. It's so hard not to do it myself. He tried with me, but our time together was nothing. Think about it. One year of mostly hiding and being off on missions before I left for MIT. Then, when I came home, I moved out.

I'll be honest. I could never stand the man. What does hurt me is how it affected the others, how Kyle was left out of his will.

Yes, he didn't care, and he was accepting it for once. He was in enough pain to force some more on himself when he really didn't have to. All he had to do was be supportive of Jerry who had actual reasons to grieve after the man.

But it somehow still feels off... Like I need a second opinion. Like I need

You. But even if he wouldn't be sending her the letter, it was still so hard to write it down. He forced himself to do it, to be honest, because he'd come to rely on these letters to be the outlet for his feelings, the ones he forced on himself.

"Hey."

Jimmy didn't even flinch, even if Sarah had ninja-stepped her way down the stairs. She wore Jerry's NASA t-shit and a pair of leggings, a lot more dressed than for their last encounter of the type.

"Morning," he answered, gathering his calculations off the table to make room for her coffee cup and potential breakfast.

"Slept well?" She dropped on the only other chair in the room, a cup of steaming coffee in hand. "Thanks for making coffee."

"I thought you would need it." He tried so hard not to smirk at her because he knew she and Jerry must've gotten little sleep.

She grinned and her eyes swept the table. "That looks complicated."

He knew she meant the letter. "They often are."

"Is it helping?"

"Are you losing faith in your brilliant methods?" he asked, feigning shock.

"Of course not. I just want you to admit that my methods are brilliant."

She was some piece of work. With every word they spoke to each other, Jimmy liked her more. And it was mostly because he liked the Jerry-in-love-with-Sarah a lot more than the one before. He was so much more relaxed, so much happier.

"It does help," he finally said. "Makes it easier for me to get through stuff. For some lame, insane reason, it actually feels like I'm talking to her."

Sarah's smile turned sad. "You really miss her."

"I do. And not just because... Well, we were friends too. We told each other everything. Apparently except about past or present marriages."

She winced and Jimmy actually felt bad for making her uncomfortable. Progress indeed.

"Did you figure out what you would do if she came back?"

"No. I think I'd only know when I see her."

"But you're not mad at her."

He didn't even know, so he just shrugged. Sarah leaned back in her chair, watching him as if he were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

"I have to admit I am at a loss," she said. "I'll admit I'm guilty of lightly analyzing all of you. It's partially because my roommate in college made a hobby out of it and I got sucked into it. Then it's because you're just fascinating, all of you and great..."

"Guinea pigs?" he supplied.

"Don't take it like that. Everyone is judging you. I'm not. I'm just..."

"Psychoanalysing us?"

"A little. But only because I can't help it. I do that with everyone. The point I was trying to make is that you and Jessie..." She leaned on the hind legs of the chair, staring at the ceiling. "I could see no cracks there, except maybe that it was too perfect. You held each other up, you were actual equals in the relationship."

"Yes, we were." His voice choked, so he decided he'd talked enough for a while.

"It's just so unfair that this had to happen," she whispered. "So I'm secretly hoping you'll decide that she's worth a second chance."

"Why isn't she coming back then?" The question slipped out before he could control it, letting out an issue he'd tried to avoid.

"Maybe you should call and ask."

Yeah, right. "Let's not go that far. The letters are enough for now."

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip. "I agree that step should come from her. She's the one who asked you not to contact her."

"How'd you even know that?" Because he sure as hell hadn't told Jerry.

"Kyle," she said, her voice carrying a tinge of guilt. "I think Jessie leaving hit him hard too and he needs someone to vent to sometimes."

Made perfect sense since Jessie was Kyle's go-to person for venting. Everyone missed Jessie and it made her abandoning them even more heartwrenching. It was that which weighed him down most at the moment.

"How's Jerry?" he asked instead.

"He's confused and hurting, but mostly okay. It's always hard to lose a parent. But it's also natural. And he knows it. He'll be fine."

Jimmy was sure he would. He was the only one whose worries had reduced to the press and the death of Freider. And despite what it looked like, Jerry was strong. Maybe the strongest of them, facing something he didn't enjoy and being alone for years.

"I'm so sorry you have to go," she mumbled.

"I bet he's sorry, too."

"You're not."

"Nope. The work at NASA is fascinating, beyond anything I've ever done before."

Sarah giggled. "Jerry said that, too. He's so excited about it and the trials for his drug. I understand you're the only one who doesn't throw up because of it at the moment?"

"That's not true. He doesn't either. We're up to three people out of six which is a definite improvement."

"I wish I could come with you."

Jimmy strangely wished that too. It would make things a lot more interesting. But he was used to life not giving him what he needed, nevermind what he wanted.

So he just folded the letter, put it in an envelope and wrote down the address to his apartment to join the others on the floor.

Space adventures awaited.

♠️♠️♠️

Nice new chapter up. Enjoy 😊

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