Boy in the Shadows

Chapter One - "Sam"

“I walk alone,


My shadow's the only one that walks beside me.


My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating


Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me.”





Boulevard of Broken Dreams, GREEN DAY

“So where you headed?”


         The boy sat against the passenger door, nearly hugging it as if Adam were some sex depraved lunatic about to pounce. Though the kid's fear was no doubt genuine, Adam couldn't help but smile.


         The kid shrugged at the question and Adam thought an actual verbal answer was unlikely. To his surprise, the kid glanced at him and mumbled, “Don't know. Just going.”


         “Hmm.” Adam tried to size up the kid through the darkness of the pickup cab without appearing to be too attentive and scaring the kid even more. He wore a hoodie sweater with the hood pulled low over his head, hiding most of his face. His voice betrayed his age, as did his lean build and mannerisms. Adam guessed him to be no more than twenty or twenty-one. But there was the possibility he was a bit younger.


         The boy hugged his pack to his chest and stared out the side window at the night beyond. Whenever the rare car passed, the oncoming headlights would splash across the boy's face, illuminating his eyes. They seemed distant, even sad.


         “What's your name?” Adam asked, breaking the silence. When he'd stopped to give the kid a ride, Adam had introduced himself, but the kid hadn't offered his own name in return. And Adam was beginning to think he wasn't going to get it now.


         “Sam.” The name fell from the boy's lips in a bare whisper.


         “Sam.” Adam nodded and smiled. “It's nice to meet you, Sam.”


         A raindrop hit the windshield. Then another. Adam glanced out the side window up towards the dark sky and murmured, “More rain.” He turned the windshield wipers on low and watched them swish across the window. A dead leaf was caught beneath the driver side wiper and caused a bleary streak in the center of Adam's view. He glanced at Sam. The kid was leaning against the door, head ducked, chin on his chest, eyes closed. He looked exhausted.


         Adam turned his attention back to the two lane rural road as the light shower quickly built into a downpour. He turned the wipers on high and looked at Sam again. The kid was still slumped against the door, eyes closed. Asleep.


         Who are you, kid? Adam wondered as an unexpected rush of emotion  swept through him. For that one brief moment, when the kid had opened the passenger door to climb into the truck, the cab light had illuminated the boy's face, his eyes. They had stared at each other for a split second before the cab was cast back into darkness. Adam had seen something in Sam's eyes just then, something that had gripped his heart so suddenly and fiercely that it felt like someone punching him in the gut, stealing his breath. His pulse had quickened in that moment...and had yet to calm.











His dreams were always the same, the viewpoint like that of a video game. He never saw himself, just those around him. It made him feel conspicuous, as if all eyes were on him, studying him, scrutinizing him...trying to figure him out. But though he was in plain sight, he hid himself well. At least in the real world. But not in his dreams. In his dreams...they could still see him for who he was. What he was.


         In this dream, Sam was in the hallway of his old high school. Walking the center of the hall, passed the lockers, the other students. His eyes were on the floor, counting the hard tiles. Ugly green tiles speckled with black as if someone had dumped pepper all over the floor.


         The students' eyes were like needles stabbing into him from every direction. He had almost made it through. For nearly twelve years of school, first grade to his senior year, he had been incognito. And successfully so. No one saw. No one knew. Even Jase had been oblivious, as intimate as they were. Sam wondered now how Jase couldn't have suspected that something wasn't right about him. When Jase held Sam in his arms, gazed into his eyes...so many times Sam had longed to just tell him the truth, to be totally open and honest. Jase had been the one. Sam had been sure of it. The one who would understand and love him against all odds.


         Sam had been wrong. Something he'd figured out just a little too late.


         Students crossed the hall back and forth in front of Sam. He didn't look up, his eyes seeing only their shoes. He hadn't realized there were so many different shoes, various styles of sneakers alone. He didn't have to look ahead to know where he was going. This dream took him to the same place every time. He knew what day this was. What was going to happen. But he couldn't stop it. How do you stop something that has already happened? This was a memory, and he was helpless to follow it through.


         He hated this dream the most. The others were bad, but this was the one that reminded him over and again why he would be alone for the rest of his life, never being able to let another man touch him, love him...know him on any intimate level. And there was nothing more tormenting than the anguish of longing for love, for that touch, that kiss, that safe feeling of being held by someone who you knew would walk through hell with you just to get you to heaven...to long for it all and know it was forever beyond your reach.


         Sam shoved open the restroom door as the shrill bell rang through the halls, announcing the start of the next class. He didn't want to go in here. He just wanted to go to class. Maybe the kids in class would whisper and talk about him, but they were just words. He'd learned to shut out the hurtful words. But in here...more than just hurtful words awaited him.


         He went through the dream routine. Walked to the sink at the far end of the bathroom, dropped his book bag on the floor and stared at his reflection. Except he still couldn't see himself, not within the dream. He felt the tears sliding down his face but he couldn't see them. He gripped the edge of the sink and hung his head, and watched his tears splatter in the porcelain basin. And he waited.


         It wouldn't be long. They would come. They would taunt him. Do things to him that he would never recover from.


         They would steal his life.


         The bathroom door shoved open. Sneakers squeaked on the hard tiles. Sam stood where he was, watching his tears fall into the sink and burst like tiny explosions slowly ripping through his heart.











“Hey, kid.” Adam reached across the seat and shook the boy's arm. “Sam.”


         The kid came awake with a suddenness that startled Adam, a small cry erupting out of him as he jerked violently away from Adam's touch. Tears drained down his face and he wiped them away quickly with trembling hands. He looked at Adam unsteadily, and for a quick moment, Adam swore he saw something akin to gratitude in the boy's eyes...swimming well below a sea of fear and distrust.


         Adam withdrew, giving the boy space. The truck sat motionless, idling low. Rain beat at the windshield and hammered the roof of the pickup. The wipers whipped back and forth across the window with soft woosh sound, the dead leaf still wedged beneath the driver side wiper. Sam glanced around uncertainly, even fearfully.


         “Where...where are we?” Sam trembled quietly. “Why are we stopped?”


         “This is my turn off.” Adam said. “The next town is still a good fifty miles ahead.”


         Sam's eyes narrowed a bit as he stared out the windshield. He nodded and popped the latch of the door.


         “Wait.” Adam chuckled. “I wasn't telling you to get out.”


         Sam hesitated but didn't pull the door closed tight just yet. He sat unmoving, ready to lunge out the door it seemed.


         “Look.” Adam said. “I have a spare room. Why don't you just crash at my place for tonight, wait out this weather. Then I'll give you a ride to the next town, if that's where you want to go.”


         Sam continued to clutch the door latch. He stared through the front windshield silently, contemplating Adam's offer. Sam shook his head slowly and pushed open the door. “Thanks.” He mumbled. “But I can walk. Rain don't bother me.”


         “Well, it bothers me.” Adam said and leaned across Sam in a quick move and pulled the door closed. He drew back and sat straight behind the wheel, shifting the truck into gear.


         “What're you doing?” A sliver of fear laced Sam's words.


         “If you're determined to go on tonight.” Adam said. “Then I will drive you.”


         Sam shifted uneasily. “I can't ask you to do that. It's too far and...it's already almost midnight.”


         “Well, first of all, you didn't ask. I offered.” Adam pointed out. “And second, I'll be damned if I'm gonna dump you out in this weather to walk another fifty miles. So here's the deal.” Adam looked at him. “Either you stay at my place tonight, or I drive you. Only two options available. You choose.”


         Indecision tightened the young man's face. What little Adam could see of his face. And what he had seen of the boy's face was beautiful. The face of an angel. Adam couldn't deny that he longed to get to know the kid, to spend time with him, just talk to him and be near him. The depth of the longing startled him. Never in his twenty-five years had he felt such an all consuming need to be in the presence of another boy as he did right now.











Let him drive you. Do not go to his house.


         The words ricocheted through Sam's head, crashing against the inside of his skull. He stared out the front windshield, his eyes looking past the swishing wipers and following the bright headlights as they stabbed out into the downpour and darkness.


         He needed to keep going. He shouldn't have accepted the ride at all. The moment he'd looked into Adam's dark eyes, he knew the man was a threat. Not dangerous in the conventional sense...but deadly for Sam. Jase had been the last guy Sam had allowed himself to get close to. He'd been seventeen then and hadn't allowed himself to really look at, much less become attracted to, another guy in three years. When he sensed someone drawing his interest, or becoming interested in him...he ran. He never allowed it to develop into something of substance. He could never allow it again.


         “So what's it gonna be, Sam?” Adam's voice was low, even somewhat soft. It sounded good saying his name. Which made everything that much worse. It gave him all kinds of disturbing sensations each time Adam said his name, and they were sensations he craved. He wanted to hear Adam speak his name...but even more troubling was that in his head he kept hearing Adam not just speak his name, but cry it out again and again in the height of passion and ecstasy.


         Sam shuddered and hugged his pack tight. Either choice would leave him in Adam's presence for an extended period of time. He considered just climbing out of the truck and insisting on walking. But he knew Adam wouldn't stand for that. He suspected the guy might physically pick him up and put him back in the truck if he did try to walk off in the downpour. The thought of which send another disturbing shudder rippling through him. What would Adam's hands feel like on his body?


         A fierce shudder ran through Sam. So forceful it made him shake.


         “Sam?” There was concern in Adam's torturous voice. “Are you okay?”


         Sam's eyes burned with tears of frustration and anguish. He needed to get away from Adam. And he needed to get away now. If he'd been certain Adam was straight, his fear may not have been so great. But even though Adam hadn't confessed to liking other guys, Sam knew the look. The look that was in Adam's eyes each time he looked at him. A look that was never present in the eyes of a heterosexual man when he looked at another man.


         A look that Sam both longed for...and feared.


         “I'm fine.” Sam rasped quietly. He chanced a look at Adam. The man gazed at him long, unwavering. If there had been even the slightest doubt in Sam's mind that Adam wasn't straight...it vanished in this moment.


         Don't look at me like that! Sam wanted to scream at him. Whatever you think you see when you look at me...you're wrong.


         “Sam?” Adam murmured, and Sam's insides began to crumble. The solid ground beneath his feet was disintegrating and he felt himself beginning to fall. And there was nothing to grab a hold of, nothing to stop him.


         Sam hung his head and closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free. “Your place.”











The ranch house loomed against the troubled night sky, just a huge black shape, a shadow among shadows. Even to Adam it looked kind of creepy. He could only imagine what must be going through Sam's mind as the pickup's headlights splashed up the wide porch steps and reflected back at them from the dark windows.


         The downpour had hit a lull and now a mere light rain fell, tapping softly against the roof of the truck. Adam shut the pickup off. A faint steam rose off the hood. The engine ticked. He looked at Sam. The kid was still hugging his pack and staring doubtfully at the dark house. Adam tugged the keys from the ignition.


         “We should get inside before we're hit with another downpour.” Adam opened his door. Sam sat unmoving. “I would've left lights on, but I didn't know I was going to be home so late.” When Sam didn't respond, Adam nodded slowly and stepped out of the cab. He turned and looked back at Sam. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but for whatever it's worth, I don't mean you any harm, Sam. If you want, you can sit out here until you feel comfortable coming inside. The door will be unlocked.” Adam stuffed the keys in his pocket and grabbed a denim jacket from behind the seat, slipping it on. “Whenever you come in, if you come in, just make yourself at home. There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry, and the spare bedroom is the first door on the right, down the hall.”


         Sam ducked his head but said nothing. Even in the light of the cab, Adam could barely see his face behind the hood of his sweatshirt. Adam nodded and closed the driver door, casting the cab back into darkness.


         Adam walked away from the truck, jogged up the steps, unlocked the front door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He turned on the porch light then went to the living room.











Sam squinted against the bright porch light. Inside the house, a couple more lights came on. Whereas a moment ago the place seemed ominous, it now suddenly felt welcoming, even beckoning. He thought about Adam in there, moving around casually, relaxed and at home. Totally within his element.


         It had been a long time since Sam had had a place to call home. The closest thing that felt like home now was Braden's place. But it had been nearly two years since he'd been to his brother's home. Sam knew he was avoiding going back there. Maybe because when he was with his brother, he felt normal. But feeling normal caused him to drop his guard, made him start to forget reality and in turn become careless with his emotions. Braden urged him to put himself out there, insisting that it was like that old George Strait song If you ain't lovin', you ain't livin'.


         A smile twitched Sam's lips at the thought of his brother's ever optimistic, often humorous view of life. Sam envied Braden, his faith and belief that life was what you make it. But Sam hadn't chosen this for himself, he hadn't been given an option. The choice was never his to make. Perhaps he stayed away from his brother because he didn't want to be infected with false hope, empty dreams. All those things were possible for Braden. But not for Sam.


         The large house pressed against the night sky, the two glowing windows staring at Sam like the warm, welcoming eyes of an old friend, or perhaps a gentle lover. Either of which was foreign to Sam. His body ached from the cold, the seemingly endless miles he had walked, the hard paved roads beating at his feet and making his legs throb. He was tired and longed for the warm bed waiting for him inside that house. Sam was convinced once his head hit the pillow, he might well sleep for a week without waking. But more than just a warm bed awaited him. Adam was in there too.


         Sam sucked in a shaky breath and released it in a trembling sigh. He leaned his head against the cold window damp with condensation, and stared at the house. “Adam.” He whispered the name. It was the first time he had said the man's name out loud. It tasted good on his tongue, felt soft on his lips. A name he could say a thousand times over and never tire of whispering it softly, shouting it across a room, crying it out in the grip of passion...sobbing it as the passion eased and left him breathless.


         The tears were hot as they rolled down his chilled face. He brushed them away and cleared his throat. What he needed to do was get out of the truck and walk back to the road, and go on his way. Forget about Adam. Forget the sudden, unexpected emotions and feelings the man had stirred inside him. It was his nature, his survival instinct to run from these things. It kept him safe. And it was time to run again. Run fast...and far.


         Sam opened the door and stepped out. Light rain drizzled down out of the dark sky, but he could feel the raindrops getting thicker, falling faster. He glanced back down the gravel drive that would take him back to the two lane road.


         Heavy raindrops splattered on the hood of his sweatshirt and the pack he was holding. It was building into a downpour again. Still, Sam stared down the drive, a battle raging inside him, ripping at his heart, tearing his mind. He clenched his jaw as his throat tightened with the tears of frustration burning his eyes.


         Sam swallowed thickly and shouldered his pack. He took a single step towards the drive, away from the house, then froze in place. His mind told his body to move, to keep walking, to get as far away from Adam as possible. But his feet refused to move.


         The rain was coming down harder, drenching his sweatshirt. Sam turned slowly and looked at the house again. The porch light beckoned him, inviting him to come inside, lay down his burden for a night and rest.


         Sam closed his eyes as his tears mingled with the raindrops landing on his skin. God, he was so tired...as if all the stress and pain of the last three years was converging on him all at once, pushing him down, stealing his strength and resolve.


         Sam sniffed and rubbed his wet sleeve across his face then walked towards the house.











The front door opened quietly and closed as quietly. The knot twisting Adam's gut loosened its grip as the tightness in his chest began to ease. He laid in bed, arms crossed beneath his head, and stared at the dark ceiling. The rain was coming down in torrents again. Adam had been half afraid Sam would walk back to the road. Had he done so, Adam would have let him go. He couldn't force Sam to stay. But the kid had made his own choice.


         Adam closed his eyes and released a low sigh. Sam hadn't run away. He was there...for this one night anyway. He pictured Sam's face in his mind. Though he'd only seen the kid's face clearly a couple times, Sam had the most riveting eyes, almost clear. And when those eyes had looked at Adam, it was as if they had physically grabbed hold of Adam's heart, body and soul.


         And his lips...his lips had the loveliest curving flow to them. The urge to kiss those lips the moment he'd laid eyes on them, had been nearly more than Adam could resist.


         He swallowed thickly as an ache gripped his body and stuttered through him like static electricity. Why was this kid having this effect on him? Sure, it had been awhile since he'd been truly intimate with anyone, and now and then he encountered someone who stirred up the sexual man within him, but this was so much more than just a fit of sexual hunger. Something about Sam gripped Adam's entire being. He didn't just long for Sam physically, but emotionally as well. Even spiritually. In every way possible.


         And Adam had no idea why, only that he couldn't deny the overwhelming feelings crashing in on him. What would he do when Sam left tomorrow? He'd become accustomed, even comfortable, in his single life. The prospect of meeting that one special man, that missing piece to the puzzle of his life, was a nice idea to daydream about...but Adam never really believed it would happen. And he'd reconciled himself to that reality.


         Until tonight. Until Sam.


         Now that he knew that special someone really did exist...could he go back to living contentedly on his own? When Sam walked out of his life as suddenly as he'd walked in, what would it do to Adam's world? Would he just move on...or would Sam's appearance and disappearance in his life be akin to a nuclear explosion blasting through his heart and life, disintegrating everything in it's path?


         Adam opened his eyes and gazed at the dark ceiling. He listened to Sam's soft footsteps down the hall. Would a lonely silence replace those footsteps tomorrow night? Would he ever hear them again after tonight?


         “God.” Adam whispered tightly, his eyes stinging. “What are you doing?”


         Adam laid there in silence.


         God didn't answer.











A single bedside lamp sat on the small stand beside the bed, casting a low, soft light through the spare bedroom. Sam glanced down the dark hallway. The door at the end was closed. Though no sound emerged, he was certain that was the door to Adam's bedroom. A funny, tickling sensation swirled through his lower abdomen then spiraled up into his chest as he got a sudden mental image of Adam laying in bed, dressed down to his briefs, or possibly nothing at all.


         A stuttered breath escaped him and he swallowed thickly, stepping into the spare bedroom. He closed the door behind him. A cushioned arm chair sat in the corner near the night stand. Sam dropped his pack in the chair then went to the bed. A clean, folded white t-shirt lay on the bed. Sam picked up the shirt and pressed it to his face, breathing in the fresh scent of detergent. It was a crisp, mountain fresh scent that he knew he would now forever associate with Adam.


         Sam laid the shirt back on the bed and peeled off his drenched sweatshirt. The t-shirt he was wearing underneath was damp as well. He draped the sweatshirt across the arm of the chair and removed his damp t-shirt, laying it on top of his sweatshirt


         Picking up the clean t-shirt again, Sam breathed in the scent once more. He unfolded the shirt and slipped it on. It felt good against his skin. Soothing. Even comforting. Is that how Adam's arms would feel?


         Sam closed his eyes and sighed. “Stop it.” He whispered. “There's nothing for you there.”


         Still, he reveled in the feel of Adam's shirt hugging his body, unable to stop himself from wishing it was Adam hugging him, holding him, filling him with hope for a future he had always imagined impossible.


         “What is wrong with you?” He chided himself. “Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. You will not fall for this man. It is out of the question and you damn well know it. So just stop it, okay?”


         Sam sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands. He raked his fingers through his golden blond hair and stared across the room at the closed door. “Get a grip, Sammy. You've been doing fine. Don't screw up now. Just...don't.”


         Another sigh escaped him. He stood and went to the cushioned chair, opening his pack. He rummaged inside then withdrew a small prescription bottle. He stared at the orange plastic bottle, fingered the thick white lid. He swallowed thickly and popped open the bottle, shook two pills into his palm, then replaced the cap and dropped the bottle back into his pack.


         Sam left the bedroom and crossed the hall to the bathroom. A small plastic cup sat next to a toothbrush holder containing one blue toothbrush, and a half empty tube of AquaFresh toothpaste. Sam stared at the items. He picked up the toothpaste and unscrewed the small cap. He smelled the minty content. An unbidden thought of Adam's mint flavored kiss filled his head. He trembled and squeezed a tiny drop of toothpaste onto his fingertip and sucked it off. If he couldn't taste Adam's kiss...at least he could have the flavor in his mouth.


         Sam raised his eyes to his reflection. He looked away quick and re-capped the toothpaste, replacing it next to the toothbrush. “You're pathetic.” He mumbled as he grabbed the plastic cup and filled it with water. He downed the two pills and left the bathroom without another glance at himself in the mirror. His reflection disturbed him. He saw things in its eyes that left him confused and feeling more alone than ever.


         Was the man he saw in the mirror really who he was?


         Or just a clever masquerade?











The bittersweet dream curled around Adam, squeezed and pulled him in deeper. He knew he was dreaming, knew none of it was real, but still he clung to it. Clung to Sam. The young man was in his arms, in his bed, his warm and welcoming body igniting a passion inside Adam that he hadn't experienced...ever. Not like this. Not this powerful and all consuming.


         Adam groaned aloud in his sleep as he embraced Sam in his dream, kissed his sweet, beautiful lips. “Stay with me, Sam.” Adam begged through their intense kiss. “Please stay. Don't leave me. I don't want a life without you.”


         Sam caressed his face, kissed him back, then drew away, left the bed. He didn't speak but just gazed at Adam with tears and deep anguish in his clear angel eyes.


         “Sam.” Adam choked out softly and reached for him, needing him in his arms, aching for him in his soul and spirit as well as body. Sam reached out and took his hand, the anguish in his eyes breaking Adam's heart.


         “Let me go, Adam.” Sam whispered in agony. “I can't be the one. I can't...”


         Sam drew his hand back and turned away.


         “Don't go.” Adam cried thickly. “Sam...”


         Adam came out of the dream with a suddenness that left his heart racing and his head pounding. He sat up, gasping, his skin damp with sweat. He touched his face and found tears on his cheeks. “Sam.” He shuddered. What the hell was happening to him? How could he feel this way about the kid? He didn't even know him.


         A sound came to him suddenly, and he realized it was what had awakened him. He frowned and left the bed, wearing only dark blue silk boxers. He opened his bedroom door and looked out into the shadowed hallway. His frown deepened, pinching his brow. The door to the spare bedroom was open and the soft, dim light of the bedside lamp crept weakly into the hall.


         He heard the sound again and moved down the hallway slowly, quietly. The bathroom door was closed and light pressed out beneath it. Behind the door, Sam was vomiting.


         Concern tightened Adam's face. He tapped his knuckles lightly on the door. “Sam?” He called softly. “Sam...what's wrong?”


         In the bathroom, Sam quieted. The toilet flushed and moments later, the sink faucet turned on.


         “Sam?” Adam knocked again. “Are you all right?”


         The water shut off, followed by silence.


         “Sam?”


         “I'm fine.” Sam insisted weakly, his low, shaky voice muffled slightly by the closed door.


         Adam leaned against the door frame and flattened one hand on the door. “Are you sure?” He asked quietly, doubtfully.


         The door opened suddenly, startling Adam. He took a step back. Sam appeared in the open doorway. It was the first time Adam had seen Sam without the hood of his sweatshirt covering his head. His hair was slightly wavy and golden, highlighted by the bright bathroom light. It only enhanced his clear eyes and angelic aura. Except now, his perfect, lovely face was deathly pale as he stood before Adam in the t-shirt Adam had laid out for him, and loose fitting boxers.


         Adam stared at the kid, worried. “Sam...” He said quietly. “What's wrong?”


         Sam met his eyes briefly then glanced away, clearly uneasy. “Nothing. I'm fine.” Sam mumbled and stepped past Adam towards the spare bedroom.


         “Sam.” Adam took hold of Sam's arm lightly, gently. “You were throwing up. That isn't fine.”


         Sam flinched and pulled away reflexively. Adam withdrew his hand.


         “Just...bad roadside food.” Sam murmured without meeting his gaze. “I'm fine.”


         Adam stared at him. The kid hugged himself and looked like he wanted to puke again. There was a vulnerability about Sam that made Adam want to take him to his bed and just hold him close as he fell asleep. He knew Sam didn't trust him, didn't feel entirely safe or secure in Adam's home. And Adam longed to change that, to make him understand there was nothing and no one here that would hurt him.


         “Okay.” Adam said softly. “But if you start feeling worse, if you need to go to the hospital...you tell me, all right?” Sam's lips tightened but he said nothing. Adam raised an eyebrow. “All right?”


         Sam nodded silently without looking at him.


         “Okay then.” Adam gestured towards the bedroom and Sam entered the room. Adam followed and drew back the blankets as Sam crawled onto the bed. He moved slowly, as if his strength had been drained. His pretty eyes were heavy, tired. As he laid down on the pillow, Adam covered him with the blankets. Before he realized what he was doing, Adam brushed the golden hair back from Sam's forehead with affection.


         Sam looked up at him with both uncertainty and gratitude.


         “Try and get some rest.” Adam murmured. His eyes stung at the sight of the boy, but he held them at bay. He didn't know why Sam made him want to cry, and he wouldn't know how to explain the tears.


         Sam's curving lips moved but no sound emerged. He swallowed thickly then managed a whispered - “Thank you.”


         Adam nodded slowly as he gazed into Sam's clear eyes. “Just feel better, ok?”


         Sam nodded silently.


         Adam combed Sam's hair back once more with his fingers then touched the back of his hand to Sam's forehead. “You're warm, but not too hot.” Adam said quietly. “No fever.” He touched the back of his fingers to Sam's cheek as the kid just stared at him. “Like I said, if you start feeling worse, you tell me.”


         Sam nodded again.


         A fierce ache squeezed Adam's chest. Again his eyes burned. “Get some sleep, Sam.” Adam turned off the lamp. “I'm just down the hall. Don't hesitate to wake me if need something. Anything.”


         Adam walked to the door. He could feel Sam's eyes on him in the dark of the room. “Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning.” He said softly and closed the door behind him.











Sam rolled onto his side in the darkness. He pulled one of the thick, soft pillows into his arms and hugged it tightly. Nausea pinched his stomach painfully, but it would pass. It always did.


         He stared at the window as he listened to Adam walk down the hall then close his bedroom door. Sam closed his eyes. His heart ached as he again felt Adam's fingers in his hair, against his skin. And the way Adam looked at him...no one had ever looked at him that way before. Not even Jase. Maybe Adam could...


         Sam pressed his face into the pillow. His chest tightened and tears welled up and overflowed. “Stop it.” He cried into the pillow. “Just stop it. Adam can't love you...anymore than Jase could.” Sam's chest hitched with sobs and he squeezed the pillow tight in his arms.


         “If you let him love you.” Sam choked out in quiet despair. “He will hate you in the end.”


         Sam clutched the pillow and used it to muffle the anguished sobs that suddenly swept through him, tearing a path through his heart and mind.