The world was black, but black was warmth and he needed it. Except cold and whiteness wouldn't leave him alone. Then water came into the equation and it suddenly made no sense because—

Sam's eyes shot open. The stinging light of the neon above him had him hissing in annoyance, but his brain had finally started working properly again.

"Sam!"

He leaned his head further back and tore his gaze from the neon only to focus on Christine's worried amber eyes. Of course she was worried. He was on the floor, his head in her lap. He twisted to one side and scrambled to his feet. One of his knees ached, but not enough to impede his progress.

"What are you doing? Are you okay?" Christine asked.

Sam didn't answer. He grabbed the sides of the nearest sink and stared into the mirror. He was still pale, had dark rings under his eyes, and his uniform was crumpled, but it was definitely him reflected. Leaning forward, he focused on the color of his eyes. Green; no hint of blue. But the normalcy of his reflection didn't calm his erratic pulse or fill the empty space inside him.

He looked at his hands. They were trembling. They were cold as ice. He was cold as ice.

"Sam?"

A second voice drew his attention. Harry was there too, but Sam had been too caught up in his inner turmoil to notice. He looked into the mirror, from Christine to his best friend and opened his mouth. No words would come out. What was he supposed to say anyway? It sounded crazy inside his own head. But the pain; the pain was real. So real that it cut him open and he half-expected to bleed. Tears filled his eyes.

"Sam, come on." Christine walked to him and turned his face towards her. "What happened?"

"I... He... He's..." He couldn't say it. Saying it out loud would make it real. It's already real, idiot. But how could it be? How could he know? How could he not know when he'd felt Tom's presence even before he knew he had a twin?

Harry walked over and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on, let it out. Something's obviously bothering you."

"Bothering me?" Sam turned towards him, sharply, knocking Christine's hand away. "Really now?" The movement was a mistake. It just sent the tears tumbling down his face.

"You're scaring us," Christine whispered.

Sam turned back to the mirror and focused on his scowl and the waterworks dripping down his cheeks. Yes, he did look scary and crazy and what happened was not Christine of Harry's fault.

"I'm sorry. I'm just..." There was no easy way to say this. "Tom's dead."

He shouldn't have said that. Everything inside him seemed to crash, like crumbling ruins falling into a sea of anguish. It made everything worse. It made it real.

He shut his eyes, trying to stop more tears from falling, his hands once again gripping the sink so hard it hurt. And that was when he needed a hand on his shoulder, an embrace, someone telling him it was alright even if it wasn't. There was only silence. Awkward silence. He opened his eyes.

Christine's eyebrows were raised in a skeptical expression. Harry just looked shocked, both of them just staring at him like he was alien. Crazy. Maybe he was.

"Did they call?" Harry finally whispered.

Sam shook his head.

"You can't know, then," Christine said.

Anger tightened his grip on the sink and he gritted his teeth together, fighting the impulse to scream, break something. Logically, Christine was right. Except there was nothing logic about this. Tom would understand. Of course he would, and he'd know just what to say. Except Tom wasn't there anymore and would never be again. Never there to comfort, never there to understand.

This isn't fair! Tom was so young. He should've gotten to go to college, get married, live a happy life with his friends and family. Married. Angie.

Sam shut his eyes as another wave of pain swept his body and settled in his heart. Angie was probably dead, too. And so were Billy and Eddie.

Crap, he had to find a more reasonable way to explain this, because it was very important that his brothers to believed him. But the thought of explaining the mess inside him made him nauseous. For a second he was afraid he'd actually throw up in the sink.

Just as he took a deep breath, a pair of hands surrounded his torso. He swallowed heavily, trying to stop the vomit making its way up his throat. Christine had the worst timing in the world.

"I believe you," she whispered. "Even if I don't understand."

His head throbbed painfully as he did his best to not be a complete ass towards her. But the truth was, he was disappointed. The hug, the understanding, they'd come too late. They hadn't been spontaneous, just like the tears Christine now had in her eyes.

He gently took her hands and released himself from her hold. "You don't believe me precisely because you don't understand. But it's okay. You don't know what it's like to have a twin, to feel like half of you is suddenly gone..." His voice broke and he stepped away. His knee ached at the movement.

Christine joined her hands in front of her, tears falling down her cheeks, the perfect embodiment of the sympathetic girlfriend. Too late. Sam looked over his shoulder to Harry who just stood there like a statue. His best friend who failed to offer any comfort.

For a few moments, he just waited. Waited for them to do or say something. Anything. React to what he'd said in anyway. They just kept gawking at him like he was a poor confused soul. Which wasn't entirely impossible. But when they didn't do anything, he just turned and walked out of the bathroom.

It hurt. Not just his knee, but the emptiness and loneliness inside. The disappointment, the fear that no one would believe him. He had to get home, but at the same time, he was afraid. If his brothers wouldn't believe him, he'd probably go insane.

"Sam, what's going on? You look terrible?"

Sam's head shot up from the floor. Lisa stood before him, a worried frown on her face.

"I'm just..." He had no idea how to continue that.

"No just. Don't downplay it. What happened?"

The bossiness in her tone was both annoying and comforting at the same time, because this was Lisa, how she'd always been.

"Is it Christine?" she asked.

Sam shook his head even if it kind of was Christine, too.

"Then why are you crying?"

Was he? He shook his head again and dabbed at his eyes, hating himself for his stupid weakness. Crying wasn't going to fix anything. It wouldn't fill the emptiness inside. "Tom," he managed to whisper.

"Did something happen to Tom?"

Sam nodded. Lisa's eyes widened for a second, then she launched at him and hugged him. He hugged her back, squeezing her against him much harder than necessary, burying his face in her hair. It smelled like jasmine and he tried to focus on that to calm down.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. This is not fair," she mumbled into his chest.

He just nodded, hoping Lisa couldn't feel his tears wetting her hair. He really needed to stop crying, but controlling his body required more energy than he currently possessed. So he focused on the smell of her shampoo and the warmth her body provided.

"What happened? Only tell me if you want to."

"I don't know what happened," he whispered, aware of how insane it sounded.

She pulled away and looked up at him, her brows drawn in concentration. "Then how do you know something happened?"

Do you, not can you. Such a small difference meant the world and gave him the courage to actually answer. "I just... felt it."

Lisa pursed her lips, and her face scrunched in anguish. She lifted a trembling hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. Her fingers dug into his flesh. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. She believed him and that was enough.

Another gentle hand settled on his shoulder and slowly pulled him back, leaving Lisa's outstretched palm in midair. Christine entwined her fingers between his and squeezed, tears still falling down her face. Lisa lowered her hand, clenched her fist and bounced it off her thigh.

Cold swept through Sam again, and he strongly wished to sink through the floor and get it over with. He was in no state of mind for female drama. Fortunately, the girls both kept quiet. The sound of an opening door broke through the silence; footsteps hurried towards them.

Deputy Bronn appeared around the corner and stopped. His thin lips stretched in a malicious smile. "The principal would like to see you now, Mr. Grant." And without waiting for an answer, he turned around and walked away.

For a moment, Sam considered just walking out and going home, because he couldn't care less about school rules and getting more detention. But he had a bone to pick with the principal, so he broke free of Christine's grasp and walked after the deputy.

When he entered the principal's office, he slammed the door closed in his wake. Robinson flinched and crossed out the letter he'd been writing. Bronn grinned as if Christmas had come early.

"Sam, I'd appreciate it if you didn't act like a spoiled brat," Robinson said, laying his pen down.

Sam clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, trying his best not to throw a tantrum, but it was hard. Nearly impossible, because this man in front of him was the one who decided that detention was more important than being sent out with his twin. He had no idea what happened, but he was sure he could've made a difference. Or at least they would've died together.

"I need you to leave, deputy Bronn," he said, trying to keep his voice as civil as possible. It failed. His words came out like an angry hiss.

The deputy huffed, but didn't move from his place next to the principal's desk. Robinson frowned and tilted his head, his blue eyes zoning in on Sam, taking in his expression, his body language, the hostility which was probably radiating off him. Finally, he nodded to the deputy. Bronn snarled, but made his way to the door, throwing Sam a murderous glare on the way.

The door closed behind him and they were left alone.

"Did Herrison make you do it?" Sam asked. The moment the question was out, he realized it was stupid. Of course the Agency took care of the so called Internship. It had seemed a little farfetched from the very beginning.

Principal Robinson just frowned in confusion, so Sam waved his own words away and tried again. "Whose decision was it to leave me behind?"

More frowning. "You are in detention, Sam. You do not get privileges."

"So after I was accepted, you're the one who decided that I'm not going."

"Yes, I believe so."

You idiot! Sam wished he could scream it out loud, but even in his half-mad state he could tell it would be too much. Could the agency have made a mistake? Did they expect him to be there, yet his school had stopped him?

No, impossible. The Agency didn't make mistakes. Actually, they did, and a lot of them, but not mistakes like that. He hadn't even been briefed and Jessie had confirmed that he wasn't supposed to be going. So had the principal's actions actually mattered?

"I want to know why you keep making things harder for yourself," principal Robinson said. "Why did you leave the detention room?"

"Why the hell does that matter?" Okay, he was going to fail miserably to keep his anger in check. But it was either be angry or be crushed and he'd had enough of crushing.

The principal just blinked at him. That disappointed look on his face would've usually driven Sam into the ground with shame, but now it was just annoying. Annoying that he had no idea what he'd done or tried to do or set off... What the hell is happening to me? He felt so dizzy, so out of balance, like he was half a sphere revolving and losing orbit because he was no longer whole.

He took in a deep breath, trying to produce a logical sentence. "I'm not going back into detention. I'm going to go home and not come to school for a while."

"And why is that?" the principal asked interested.

"For the same reason Tom is gone." Sam's voice broke and he lowered his eyes. They immediately found the stain on the crimson carpet. That stain had been there when Tom was alive. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the thought, but it joined him on his mad swirl, ringing like an alarm that refused to snooze.

There was silence for what seemed like forever, yet he couldn't decide to force his feet to move and go home. Having to tell his brothers was the only thing keeping him sane right now. When that would be done, he had no idea what to do. This was a sort of limbo.

"Sam," principal Robinson whispered. "Are you in the agency, too?"

Sam's head snapped up and he took in the man's concerned expression. He almost looked scared, and at that moment Sam felt disgusted with himself, with his anger and his unfairness. "Yes. I'm the leader of my division."

"Then you know I had no choice."

Of course he didn't. Robinson was a good man. He wouldn't endanger his students if he could avoid it. Sam didn't even want to know how he'd been convinced to be a part of this. His anger sunk into despair and his whole body felt as if it were deflating.

"I'm so sorry, Sam."

Sam only nodded, feeling more drained than ever. "Thank you." At least he'd managed to get something half decent out of his mouth. He had to go. Like a given, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and saw a message from Christine: Where are you? I'm waiting at your locker.

He squeezed the phone in his hand and stuffed it back in his pocket. There was no way in hell he wanted to see Christine right now. Not when he was going from angry to depressed and back with the speed of light. He didn't want to do or say something he'd regret.

"You may go. Your detention has been lifted and you're free to take as much time as you need."

Sam frowned at the news. He hadn't really said more than a generic phrase, but the principal understood and acted accordingly, unlike his best friend and girlfriend. Another reason he didn't want to see Christine or anyone else except his family.

So with another nod and thank you, he left the office and headed out to do what he had to do.

🌟🌟🌟

Well this is looking awfully bleak and depressing. But it's very important so I really need to know if I did it right.

Could you relate to Sam's feelings in this chapter? Does he seem confused and broken enough?

How about the others - Christine, Harry and Lisa? How do you feel about them and their reactions?

Any theories on what happened?

Any thoughts on this chapter are greatly appreciated. So vote and comment and share!