by Ally Blue
Sam smiled. “I haven’t pushed the button yet.”
“Not that.” Bo’s fingers caressed Sam’s. “Thank you for sticking with me through these past few days. For saving me last night. And most of all, for still believing in me in spite of everything.” His dark gaze bored into Sam’s, serious and intent. “That means more to me than I can possibly tell you.”
Sam’s throat constricted. Rising to his feet, he leaned over, cupped Bo’s face in his hands and kissed him. Bo’s lips parted, his tongue stroking warm and soft against Sam’s. It felt wonderful, even more so than usual because of all that had happened. Morning breath and chapped lips didn’t matter. Bo was alive and safe, and he was himself again. To Sam, everything else paled beside that simple fact.
When they broke apart, Sam curled back into the recliner while Bo pushed the call button. The day shift nurse came in a few minutes later and injected morphine into Bo’s IV line. By the time she left the room, Bo was already blinking drowsily at the wall. He drifted off a few minutes later, one hand still tucked beneath his head and the other hanging off the edge of the mattress.
For a long time, Sam sat and watched Bo sleep. His mind whirled with thoughts of the theories he and Bo had just discussed, and what they might mean for Bo’s future and his own. If Sam was right, the anticonvulsants would keep the otherdimensional beings from finding their way into Bo’s brain again. And if he was wrong…
If he was wrong, the possibilities didn’t bear thinking of.
He reached out and stroked Bo’s fingers, from the short, blunt nails to the rough skin over his knuckles. “I’d better be right.”
Epilogue
“It looks different.”
“Must be the sunshine.”
“And the crowd.”
Sam smiled, his shoulder just brushing Bo’s. “I think I like it better this way.”
Bo nodded. “So do I.”
They stood at the center of Fort Medina’s courtyard, which did indeed look different than it had during the investigation, or during their brief visit after hours the previous month. The bright July sun and the swarms of tourists made the place seem smaller and friendlier.
“Do you feel anything?” Bo asked, his voice barely audible.
Sam shook his head. “No. But I didn’t expect to. The portal’s closed, for good.” He glanced at Bo. “What about you?”
Looking around, Bo smiled. “Nothing. Of course, that’s what I expected as well.”
They’d both gone with Andre and the rest of the BCPI crew in June, when the group returned to present the findings of their investigation to Joanne. Sam and Bo had gone with the sole purpose of making sure the portal was closed, and the things on the other side could no longer get into Bo’s brain.
Neither of them had any idea whether having been activated once would make the unclassified chemical easier to reactivate. Because of that, Sam hadn’t wanted Bo to go, even though Bo had been on Dilantin for three weeks by then. Bo had pointed out that if the chemical in his body could still be activated in spite of the Dilantin, he’d rather find out then, when they were both ready for it and there were relatively few people around.
Even Sam hadn’t been able to find any logical flaw with that argument. So they’d both gone back, wandering through the closed and darkened fort while their friends were gathered in the office with Joanne. Nothing had happened. Relieved, they’d held a private celebration in bed that night.
“Where are the boys?” Bo asked, frowning. “I don’t see them.”
Sam shaded his eyes with his hands and turned in a slow circle. “They’re over there,” he said, spotting Sean’s tousled golden brown head and Adrian’s sleeker, darker one in front of a plaque on the north wall. “They’re reading one of the plaques.”
Bo blew out a breath. “Come on, let’s go get them. I don’t like them wandering off like that.”
Sam swallowed a frustrated sigh as he followed Bo across the grass. He hadn’t been terribly enthused about taking Bo’s sons here during their weekend visit, mostly because he’d known Bo would be nervous every time they were out of sight for more than a few seconds. Why, he thought irritably, were they even here if Bo was that worried about their safety?
Of course, he knew the answer to that question. The kids had overheard them discussing the fort, and the idea of bloodstained steps and haunted weapons bunker had captured their fertile young imaginations. They’d begged to go. And Bo, as usual when his children were persistent enough, had caved.
Not that it wasn’t safe here. It was. Bo wouldn’t have agreed if he hadn’t known in his heart that there was no danger here anymore. Neither would Sam, for that matter. But seeing Bo so tense and jumpy over the boys was getting on Sam’s nerves.
“Boys, what did I tell you about wandering off?” Bo admonished as he and Sam approached the children. “You need to stay with Sam and me.”
“Yessir.” Sean, the youngest at eight years old, turned and flashed a gap-toothed grin. His hazel eyes shone with excitement. “Dad, can we go see the bloodstains now?”
“I don’t care about the stupid bloodstains.” Adrian gave Bo an unreadable look over his shoulder. “You said we could go see the weapons bunker first. You promised.”
“You don’t get to be boss just ’cause you’re the oldest,” Sean shot back. He grabbed Bo’s T-shirt in both small hands and started bouncing up and down. “I wanna see the bloodstains, c’mon. Pleasepleaseplease?”
With a strained smile, Bo raked a hand through the boy’s hair. “In a little while. I did promise Adrian we’d go see the weapons bunker first.”
Adrian turned back to the plaque, looking smug. Sean scowled. “How come we always have to do what he wants?”
Bo pretended not to hear. Sam knew better. He knew Bo tended to favor Adrian these days, and he knew why.
Adrian was far more sensitive and perceptive than most eleven year olds. Learning his father was gay and in a relationship with a man had been a huge blow to him. While Sean had shrugged the whole thing off and cautiously accepted Sam as a friend and occasional video game opponent, Adrian had become even more quiet and withdrawn than usual. He’d never overtly rejected Sam—in fact, he barely acknowledged Sam’s presence most of the time—but the big, dark eyes so like his father’s simmered with wounded rage every time he glanced Sam’s way, and Sam knew Bo saw it.
Hurt and angry, Adrian was systematically distancing himself from his father. Bo, in a desperate attempt to keep from losing his son’s love, bent over backward to try and make Adrian happy. The despair behind Bo’s smile every time it didn’t work broke Sam’s heart.
An idea came to Sam, and he acted on it before he could change his mind. “Hey, Bo, why don’t I take Sean over to see the bloodstains while you and Adrian go to the weapons bunker?”
Sean whooped, let go of Bo and scampered to Sam’s side. “Cool! Dad, can I? Sam can tell me the story about the headless soldier again. I like how he tells it.”
Sam caught Bo’s eye. They grinned at each other, the worried crease vanishing from between Bo’s brows for the first time since Janine had brought the boys over the previous night. The way Sean hung on Sam’s every word during his tales of the fort’s apparitions was adorable.
“All right.” Bo laughed when Sean whooped again, drawing amused looks from the people around them. “You be good and mind Sam, okay?”
“Sure.” He launched himself at Bo, flinging his arms around Bo’s middle. “Love you, Dad.”
Bo’s throat worked. He wrapped his arms around Sean and hugged him close. “I love you too, son.”
Sean let go of Bo and ran back to Sam. “Let’s go!” He grabbed Sam’s hand and started dragging him in the direction of the bloodstained steps.
“See you in a few minutes,” Sam called as he was pulled away.
Bo nodded and waved. Before being swallowed by the crowd, Sam saw Adrian shrug off the arm Bo rested across his shoulders. He caught a glimpse of the sorrow in Bo’s eyes and
the fury in Adrian’s before they were lost in the sea of people.
Forcing back the sympathetic ache for Bo, Sam turned his attention to the child hauling him with single-minded determination toward the flight of stone steps leading to the ramparts.
When they reached the steps, Sam showed Sean the bloodstains splattered across the gray stone. Sean’s eyes widened with transparent awe as Sam related the story of the headless soldier who haunted this stairway. The boy had heard it all before, of course, but he never seemed to tire of it. He spent several minutes speculating on what the soldier’s head must’ve looked like bouncing down the stairs before snagging Sam’s wrist and pulling him toward the ramparts.
Up on the narrow walkway, Sam and Sean surveyed the glittering ocean beyond the fort’s walls and the teeming courtyard far below. Sean kept up his usual nonstop stream-of-consciousness chatter. Sam listened with a smile, Sean’s small hand clutched tightly in his. The boy could be exhausting, but he was sweet-tempered and outgoing, and made friends everywhere he went. He was an easy child to like.
Unlike his brother.
Sam nipped that thought in the bud. He knew he had to work harder to win over Adrian, but it was a daunting prospect, and he didn’t want to think about it right now. He was enjoying himself, and he wanted to hang on to that fragile feeling.
With a start, Sam realized Sean had fallen silent. He glanced down. The child seemed lost in thought.
“Hey.” He gave Sean’s hand a gentle shake. “Earth to Sean.”
Sean looked up at Sam with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I like it that Dad lives with you now. I like you. You’re cool.”
Sam returned the child’s smile and gave his fingers a light squeeze. “I like you too. You’re pretty cool yourself.”
Sean beamed, his round little face aglow, and a feeling Sam couldn’t put a name to twisted sharp and sweet in his chest. He’d never been close to his parents and sister. He didn’t hate them, but he hadn’t really loved them since he was small. The only honest conversation he’d ever had with them had ended with his mother calling him an abomination, his father threatening violence if he ever mentioned his homosexuality again, and his sister refusing to speak to him for a month. His father died the month after Sam came out, without ever speaking to him again. To this day, Sam wasn’t allowed to spend time alone with his niece and nephew. Bo was the first person he’d ever loved completely, and who had loved him back without condition or reservation. Their relationship was his only experience with true intimacy. He had no benchmark for the fierce, protective tenderness suddenly bubbling up inside him.
Sean’s delighted squeal broke into Sam’s thoughts. “Hey, there’s Dad and Adrian!” He jumped up and down, waving his free hand frantically in the air. “Dad! Hey, Dad! Up here!”
Sam laughed as nearly every head in the courtyard swiveled toward Sean. He was a bit small for his age, but he had a powerful set of lungs and wasn’t shy about using them.
After a moment, Sam spotted Bo and Adrian making their way toward the steps. They started up the narrow stone flight side by side. Watching them, Sam marveled for the thousandth time at how alike they were. Adrian had inherited Bo’s intelligence, his reserve, his stubbornness and his temper, along with his straight black hair, deep brown eyes and mocha skin. Sam often wondered if they clashed as often as they did because they were so similar.
Sean let go of Sam’s hand and bounced up to his brother as Bo and Adrian approached. “Hey, Adrian, did you see the bloodstains?”
Adrian gave the younger boy a disdainful look. “I told you, I don’t care about the stupid bloodstains. I bet it’s just paint anyhow.”
Sean’s shock was almost comical. “It’s not paint, it’s blood!” He grabbed Adrian’s wrist. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
“Be careful,” Bo warned as Sean dragged his protesting sibling toward the stairs.
Sam moved to stand beside Bo. They watched the boys crouch beside the red splotches on the last few steps and put their heads together, apparently holding quite a serious discussion about the stains.
“I appreciate you taking Sean,” Bo murmured. His hand crept into Sam’s, holding on tight. “It was nice to have a few minutes with just Adrian.”
“I figured you could both use it. Besides, Sean and I get along great.” Sam glanced at Bo. His expression was pensive. “Did it go all right?”
“I think so. He really loved hearing about the apparitions the BCPI team saw in the bunker. For a few minutes there, he seemed almost normal again.” Bo turned his head and pinned Sam with a serious look. “Thank you for being so patient with me. With all of us. I know how hard it is for you when I have the boys with me, but you’ve been absolutely wonderful lately, and I just want you to know that I’ve noticed, and I appreciate it.”
Sam glanced toward the bottom of the steps, where Sean and Adrian were now involved in what looked like an impromptu reenactment of a long-ago battle. Both were laughing, and it warmed Sam’s heart to see Adrian looking just as happy and carefree as Sean.
“I want us to be a family,” Sam said, and instantly knew he meant it. “I know it won’t be easy. But I love you, and Sean and Adrian are your sons. I care about them, and I…I want to be a part of their lives.”
The startled expression on Bo’s face melted into a glowing smile. “I knew there was a reason I love you.”
Standing there in the summer sun, hand in hand with the man he loved while that man’s children played below, Sam felt more content than he’d ever believed he could. Was this what it felt like to have a real family? One that fought and laughed, and loved each other through good times and bad?
Sam didn’t know. But for the first time in his life, he wanted to find out.
***
Two hours later, after the boys had thoroughly explored every nook and cranny of the fort, Sam and Bo finally managed to drag them away. Sean clung to Bo’s hand as they walked to the car, relating his own version of the day’s adventures with infectious enthusiasm. Sam strolled a few paces behind. Adrian paced silently beside him, just far enough away to convey his distaste for Sam’s presence.
Sam glanced at Adrian. His expression was as closed off as ever. Struck by an urge to draw him out, Sam moved closer. “What did you think of the fort? It’s an interesting place, isn’t it?”
Adrian shrugged. “I guess.”
Encouraged by the lack of outright hostility, Sam decided to keep going. “What was your favorite part?”
Another shrug. Sam tried again. “I know you were looking forward to the weapons bunker, how was that?”
“It felt wrong.”
A chill crawled up Sam’s spine. “What?”
Adrian shot him a swift glance full of the undiluted hatred Sam had come to know quite well over the past few months. But behind that was a faint spark of fear which sent an unpleasant jolt through Sam’s blood. “Adrian? What do you mean, it felt wrong?”
“Nothing,” Adrian mumbled, looking away.
Sam plowed on, in spite of Adrian’s obvious desire for him to drop it. “Adrian, look, I know you don’t like me, but I…I feel strange things too, sometimes. You can tell me if—”
“I told you, I didn’t mean anything. Just leave me alone.”
Sam studied the boy’s profile. His jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the ground and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts. Tension rolled off him in waves. The resemblance to his father was eerie, and Sam knew from experience that the similarities didn’t end on the outside.
Part of Sam wanted very much to push the issue. To find out what exactly Adrian had felt in the fort. But a larger part of him didn’t want to destroy what little progress he’d made with the child over something that was most likely his imagination.
If you push it, it’ll only make him angry, and if that happens he’ll make everyone else miserable. There’s no point in that, when all you have to
go on is your own fear.
It was a justification, and Sam knew it. But he couldn’t bring himself to ruin what was left of Bo’s weekend with his children. Not without a damn good reason, and this didn’t qualify.
When they reached the car, Bo laid a hand on Sam’s arm while the boys clambered into the backseat. “You were talking to Adrian.”
Sam nodded. “A little bit, yeah.”
“About what?”
“I asked him how he liked the fort.”
“And what did he say?”
Sam was torn. He didn’t want to lie to Bo, but he didn’t have the heart to snuff out the hope in Bo’s eyes.
“He said it was okay,” Sam told him. “That was about it, but he said actual words to me, and he wasn't even insulting about it. It’s an improvement, I think.”
Bo’s smile made the small deception worthwhile. “That’s wonderful, Sam. Wonderful.” He slipped his hand into Sam’s. “The boys want to stop at Pizza Palace for dinner. Is that all right with you?”
“Absolutely. I love Pizza Palace.”
Smiling, Bo gave Sam’s fingers a squeeze, then let go and moved around to the passenger’s side. Sam opened the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel.
As he drove down the shaded road toward town, Sam glanced at Adrian in the rearview mirror. The boy’s dark eyes met his for a second before cutting away. What Sam saw there wasn’t exactly acceptance, but it wasn’t the usual resentment and brooding anger either. Adrian looked thoughtful, as if considering whether Sam was really the demon he’d always believed him to be.
Sam smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and that was good enough.
About the Author
Ally Blue used to be a good girl. Really. Married for twenty years, two lovely children, house, dogs, picket fence, the whole deal. Then one day she discovered slash fan fiction. She wrote her first fan fiction story a couple of months later and has since slid merrily into the abyss. She has had several short stories published in the erotic e-zine Ruthie’s Club, and is a regular contributor to the original slash e-zine Forbidden Fruit.
