Title: I Follow (2/3)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Sam Kirk, Jim Kirk, others
Summary: Sam wants nothing more than to save his brother, until the day he realizes Jim never needed him.
Previous Part: 1

Sam might have stayed away longer than a year if Christopher Pike had not come to fetch him.

It’s late summer in a backwater town of Alabama. The twenty-two year-old simply looks at his advisor across the bar counter from where he is wiping down glasses. If he is surprised, his expression is too bland to show it.

“Don’t I get a hello, nice to see you?” Pike asks.

“Have you been tracking me this entire time?”

“You didn’t leave the planet,” the man replies, which is answer enough to the accusation.

“Have to have money to leave the planet,” Sam murmurs, turning away slightly to reach for a decanter. “Brandy, right?”

“Is it the good stuff?”

“Does this place look like they sell anything that isn’t watered down?” In the back of the establishment a sagging stage juts out from a curtained wall. The tables circling it are empty, their chairs turned upside down on the top. At this time of day, most of the dancers are sleeping off the demands of the previous evening. Sam has been told it’s respectful to call them dancers, no matter how obscene their movements are. “Sorry,” he says off-hand to make Pike squirm, “the entertainment isn’t available until eight.”

With a slight grimace, Pike motions for him to pour a small shot. His expression changes then to something more scrutinizing; but it’s Sam Pike is studying, not the rows of cheap liquor at Sam’s back. He comments, “You’ve changed.”

Sam responds with a shrug and puts Pike’s drink together. After he hands the shot glass over, he picks up his rag again and focuses on cleaning the taps of the nearby kegs. Pike seems content to let the silence stretch between them for a while.

The owner pokes his head through the door of a back room and eyes Sam like he still can’t figure out why he hired a drifter to operate his bar during daylight hours. “Break something, and you pay for it outta your wages.” Then the rough-looking man goes back to whatever his business might be—probably counting the product that has nothing to do with liquor sales and that Sam isn’t supposed to know exists. It’s for the best, Sam decides, that Pike is in civilian clothes. Otherwise Sam would be out on his ass in the street for potentially jeopardizing the owner’s side business.

Pike lifts his shot glass up to eye level and inspects the amber liquid through the light. Sam sighs and puts away his rag, returning to the man who won’t, it seems, leave him alone until they have talked.

Before Sam can say I don’t think I’m coming back to Starfleet, Pike asks, “Was it worth it?”

“What?”

“This time on your own. Was it worth it?”

Sam nods.

“Tell me why.” It isn’t a request.

Sam doesn’t think it is a good idea to explain how he really felt when he left. It was like he had been suddenly let free from shackles, ones he had worn all of his life yet never known he was wearing. The sensation could have only been described as dizzying as the shuttle had sped from San Francisco down the coast of California. Sam can still remember clinging to the window sill beside his seat, watching the ground fly past. If his brother felt even a margin of that relief and near-exhilaration… it’s no wonder Jimmy did not return home before now.

He realizes he has been lost in his thoughts so long one of the other customers at the bar left without his noticing—and the guy didn’t pay. Shit. That will be coming out of his wages.

Pike is watching him with a patience Sam figures he must have been born with. “Sorry,” the younger man apologizes.

Pike raises one eyebrow. Sam comes around the side of the bar and takes a seat beside the man. Bracing his elbows on the counter, he gathers words in his head that might marginally sound like an explanation. “I guess I never had time to myself before—not time that wasn’t spent in the pursuit of some higher goal. I don’t know.” He drops his head slightly. “It just feels… good to be responsible only for myself.”

“Sam…” Pike seems to be choosing his words with care too. “I thought I understood your motivation when you entered Starfleet but I can see I was mistaken. It was for Jim, wasn’t it?” He sighs softly. “You could have told me that.”

“The counselors never bothered to look for an answer that made sense, so I figured why should anyone else care as long as I didn’t break any rules?” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter now why I wanted in. Jimmy’s proven he didn’t need my help.” Sam bites down on his bottom lip, hesitating to say more but needing to ask. “He’s doing really good at the Academy, isn’t he?”

A chuckle bubbles forth from Pike, surprising Sam. “I was wondering who kept breaking into the records system.”

Sam flushes. “You shouldn’t put in a backdoor if you expect no one to use it.”

“That’s a debate for the IT staff,” Pike says, dismissing the comment. “For a while, I thought it was Jim entertaining himself. Maybe to see how fast he’d get caught, if he was caught at all.”

“Oh, he has been in there,” Sam informs the man, feeling a bit smug about tattling on his little brother. “The trail’s a mile wide if you know what to look for.”

Pike looks pained.

After a few moments, Sam’s good humor fades. “Jimmy’s smart,” he murmurs. Sam bases that statement off of more than Jim’s ability—if somewhat lackadaisical in nature—to breach cyber security. It had been with pride, dismay, and envy that Sam looked over his brother’s placement scores.

“Jim’s a genius who lacks common sense to temper to his intelligence. In other words, he’s a pain in my ass,” Pike supplies dryly. Then the man releases a heavy sigh. “He spent most of this past year testing my patience.”

Sam ducks his head, smiling.

“It’s not amusing, boy,” Pike tells him sourly. “You try towing the line with your brother on the other end and see how you like it.”

“Not my problem.”

As if Sam had said something Pike expected to hear, the man leans toward him, an earnest look in his eyes. “Actually it is. Granted, your friend McCoy has been doing his damnedest to keep Kirk in one piece and he’s done a fair job so far—”

Really? Leonard hates being in charge of ‘idiots with a death wish’, as he calls them. He would have told Sam to shape up or cut his throat already if Sam had acted like that kind of fool. Why is Jim the exception?

Sam almost wishes he could call up Leonard and ask. That, however, would be a mistake. He imagines McCoy doesn’t want to speak to him.

“Sam?”

Sam returns his attention to Pike. “Yes, sir?”

His advisor shakes his head sadly. “You didn’t hear a word I just said. Ah, son,” he says, “what am I going to do with you?”

Sam assumes that question is rhetorical. He wouldn’t know how to answer it anyway if it wasn’t. “I know why you’re here, sir,” he says, getting to the heart of the matter. They’ve been dancing around it too long. “I don’t know if I am coming back. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Pike’s eyes are understanding; that, more than anything which has been said to Sam so far, suddenly makes it hard for him to swallow.

“Most of us aren’t ready for what life throws our way, Sam. But that’s what unites the Fleet. We journey into space because it is unknown to us, and though we might not be fully prepared for what is out there, we have our skill sets and our rules and, when necessary, our own judgment to help us face it. You’re not alone in how you feel.”

“Even about Jimmy?”

“Especially in terms of Jim, because whether you believe this or not, Jim isn’t ready to face you either.”

Sam doesn’t know why but his heart sinks slightly at that news.

Pike reaches out and captures Sam’s shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “So I guess that puts both of you on even ground.”

“But if he doesn’t want to see me…”

“Sam,” the older man says with grimness lurking in his tone, “there will always be an excuse should you want to find one. What you need to ask yourself is: if you let excuses keep you from reuniting with your brother, even for a single second, will you ever regret it?” He releases Sam and stands up, placing money on the counter for his untouched drink. “Think about what I’ve said. I can stay in town for a few more days before I have to report in. I’d like to have you with me when I do—but the choice is still yours.”

With those final words Pike walks out, leaving Sam to ponder that very important question.

~~~

In the end, the decision to return to Starfleet is as painless as the decision to leave. Maybe that is the benefit of time; or maybe that is solely due to Pike’s powers of persuasion. Sam doesn’t quite know. One truth he does know is that he needs to be somewhere with a purpose, not living in this aimless way. Despite the nature of it, he had had a road to walk in Starfleet. He realizes with more clarity now he wants to see where that road goes. If circumstances become too strained, Sam tells himself, he’ll simply move on.

In a convenience store two days following their talk, he crosses paths again with his advisor either by accident or invention (who knows? Pike has proven sneakier than Sam thought possible). Sam blurts out, unable to stop his runaway mouth, “Okay, I’ll come back.”

“Wonderful,” Pike replies smoothly, paying the teller for his purchase. He tosses a nutritional bar from a bag Sam’s way when they are on the street. “We leave in an hour. I assume you packed.”

And just like that, Sam is on a shuttle bound for San Francisco in the co-pilot seat opposite the ‘Fleet’s illustrious Christopher Pike.

“Did you steal this?” he asks, curious. His eyes rove over the latest tech gadgets built into the controls; this isn’t an old model ship for rent.

Pike cuts his eyes at Sam. “You seem to forget I’m a captain, Cadet. I don’t need to steal a craft.”

“Right. So they just hand them over like jellybeans because you have stripes on your shoulder,” Sam retorts, displeased at the title of ‘Cadet’. Pike knows it has always rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.

The older man mutters a word under his breath. Sam pretends not to hear it, since it’s not complimentary about his parentage.

“Look in the compartment above your head,” orders Pike.

Sam does, finding a data padd already turned on.

“I took the liberty of drawing up your schedule for the semester since you weren’t present for registration. If you want to change any of the courses, let me know now.”

Sam snaps his jaw shut so his mouth doesn’t hang open. He pulls up the file with his schedule and peruses it with a surreal feeling. A minute later, he drops the padd into his lap and stares at Pike’s side profile. “What if I hadn’t wanted to go?”

The corner of Pike’s mouth quirks. “I always have a Plan B.”

“What was Plan B?”

“You mean who was Plan B. Your mother,” Pike answers in the next breath before Sam can react.

If Sam was floored before, Pike had just backed over him for good measure. It’s natural instinct to recoil at the mention of Winona; he does it without thinking.

Pike lifts a hand from the shuttle control panel, as if Sam might decide to take a nosedive out of an emergency exit. “I didn’t tell her where you are, though she does know I’ve kept my eye on you. …But, Sam,” Pike explains with a levity that deepens the lines around his mouth, “if it took bringing your mother here to set you on the right path again, I would have. Never doubt that.”

Sam doesn’t doubt it, not for a second. He leans back in his seat and, once his shock has passed, focuses on the class schedule again. The demand comes from no place that Sam can discern. “I want to switch tracks.”

“All right,” his advisor agrees in a mild tone. “Let’s discuss your options.”

They do, and Sam realizes in that moment Christopher Pike was the first person to accept him as he is—stubborn, broken and often confused. Pike has never pushed him to be a different person, only to be better, wiser. The man in the pilot’s seat is the father-figure he had often wished for when he was a child; if he hadn’t been disillusioned of the notion by the time he met Pike, he would have recognized that.

It is with infinite regret Sam faces the fact that once he trades Command for Science, he will lose Pike altogether. “Will you look after Jimmy the way you’ve looked after me?” he asks of Pike once the shuttle is in the air.

Pike’s seatbelt twists as he turns to look at Sam. “I already am.”

Sam is relieved. All he can say is “Thank you,” hoping like in the past thank you will be enough for Pike.

It is.

~~~

Sam adjusts to cadet life again in a reasonably short period of time. A weight has returned to settle on his shoulders but it isn’t as heavy as before, just reminiscent of the stress he is certain to feel once the school workload is back to full capacity.

Or fuller capacity, he thinks. He had to add in two extra courses to help catch up with the other cadets on the Science track. It would be humiliating to be taking a class with cadets very much his junior, but with stoicism Sam accepts that as a consequence of his missed time. He hasn’t forgotten any of his lessons from his command courses, and he sees the benefit in the knowledge of them, so with Pike’s approval Sam keeps one command course on his schedule as well.

Then he has to say goodbye to Pike. It would have been an emotional event for Sam (at least in the privacy of his own room) except Pike decides to quite literally hand him off to another advisor. The poor professor makes noises of profuse agreement with all of Pike’s instructions on how to watch out for George Samuel Kirk. Sam is red in the face by the time the conversation is done. On the bright side, the embarrassment staves off manly tears.

It is a month into the fall semester when Sam begins to catch wind of the rumors floating around about his brother. If anything, Jim is not keeping a low profile like Sam had always made a point of doing. Jim wants the limelight and he gets it. James T. Kirk, it is said, is fluent in the slang of Orion pirates, likes to bar fight on the weekends, has slept with every nurse in Starfleet Medical, has a tattoo of the Federation President on his ass, and is actively leading a revolt against cafeteria mystery meat. A group of cadets in one of Sam’s classes whisper amongst themselves that the Crazy Kirk plans to take the Kobayashi Maru next year and pass. There’s a betting pool centered around it. The odds appear to be in Jim’s favor.

Sam doesn’t know how many of the rumors are true, and he figures ignorance is bliss. But concerning the command test no one in Starfleet history has ever passed, Sam is torn between amused and horrified. Exactly how arrogant is his brother?

He might be worrying about this very question on the day he steps out of his dorm building without paying attention and comes face-to-face with a pissed Leonard McCoy. Sam freezes like a deer caught in headlights, his voice suddenly lost to him.

“It’s been a long time, Sam,” Leonard says, his face expressionless but his eyes burning with some dark emotion.

Sam can barely manage a nod. His throat feels swollen.

“Did you plan on telling me you were back?”

“I—” No. “—thought it wouldn’t matter.”

“WHAT?” the man explodes.

Sam winces and wishes he had said nothing. Silence is always the safer choice, particularly when talking to someone with a volatile temper. If he takes a step backwards into the shelter of the building entrance, it’s out of a need for personal space, not fear. At least, that’s the lie he tries to convince himself of.

But McCoy follows him like a looming shadow. “You stupid asshole!“

Probably better not to debate the point when Leonard has murder in his eyes, Sam decides. He tries for unconcerned. “Look, I have to get to class…” Unfortunately, Sam is immediately reminded that unconcerned is an attitude which has never worked for him. In the next instant, Leonard is latched onto his arm and dragging Sam down the sidewalk like a reluctant puppy.

“The little shit,” McCoy is spitting as he stalks. “Thinks it’s all right to drop off the face of the Earth without so much as a by-your-leave.”

“Leonard…”

“Friends don’t do that, damn it!”

“Uh, Leonard,” Sam tries again, digging in his heels to slow down their swift pace.

Abruptly Leonard stops. He lets go of Sam but his expression dares Sam to try and run away. “I don’t know what’s going on in that damn fool head of yours, Sammy, but I didn’t do anything wrong and I sure as hell didn’t do anything that needs an explanation!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re the one who made the mistake!”

“Okay,” Sam agrees, feeling calmer. “Can you tell me what it is you think I think you did?”

That causes Leonard to frown. “Don’t confuse me.”

Sam just looks at him.

McCoy rakes a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know about Jim until he told me—which, by the way, is also your fault. Friends share vital information about each other, like AWOL brothers.” Leonard glares at Sam. “‘N let me make this clear in case you keep missing my point: you need to re-read your How to Be a Friend manual, asshole.”

“I’m really not comfortable with you calling me an asshole,” murmurs Sam.

“Suck it up,” Leonard snaps without a hint of remorse. “You deserve the title more than me right now, because friends—”

Sam interrupts quickly, “You don’t have to keep saying that. I get it, I’m not a decent human being.” He ends a bit bitterly, “I know that, Leonard.”

Leonard’s mouth thins but he says nothing else, only nods once sharply.

“I’m sorry,” Sam adds, knowing that the words need to be said even if they won’t change anything. He sighs softly and shifts on his feet. “Were you taking me anywhere in particular?”

Leonard looks at their surroundings as if he is seeing this part of campus for the first time. “…No, I guess not.”

“Then would it be okay if I go to class now?”

Two conflicting emotions war on Leonard’s face even as he steps back to allow Sam passage. “I’m not letting this go so easily. We’re going to talk, Sammy.”

“I really don’t think there is much else we can say.”

McCoy’s eyes stay on him. “We can talk about Jim.”

“No, we can’t,” Sam says tiredly, “because I don’t want to hear it.” He turns to leave but pauses long enough to voice his last thought on the matter. “I’m sure he’s told you everything… so believe me when I say I already understand that he hates me.”

Maybe he surprised Leonard with his bluntness, but that doesn’t matter. The truth, he learned long ago, is always going to hurt.

Sam makes his stride longer than usual so he can quickly put distance between himself and his former friend.

~~~

The old wounds opened by the meeting with Leonard take several days to scab over. In the meantime, Sam attends his classes (there’s no need to give his advisor a heart attack, Sam is well-aware the poor fellow has to be submit weekly reports to Pike) and makes himself scarce on campus otherwise. He spends some time enjoying the sights San Francisco has to offer. He takes a boat ride out into the Bay and walks the length of the docks. On his fourth day out, he comes across a small bookshop that still sells paper copies and passes several hours reading through old classics he enjoyed as a young boy.

It’s with a paperback wrapped in a brown parcel under his arm that Sam returns to campus one Thursday afternoon in time for his evening classes. Feeling wistful, he passes by a spot that used to be favored by his old Biology study group in the spring. It would be ironic to him later that just as he was thinking of Aurelan, he would find her there like a ghost from a memory of a past life.

But a wish granted can be a double-edged sword. He learns that when he sees her. Aurelan is with Jim.

For a flash of a moment, as Sam comes to a standstill in the courtyard, he thinks bitterly, I shouldn’t have left.

Then that thought becomes a resounding no. No, he made the right choice and, no, he is not going to allow this to happen. Not this.

Before he can change his mind, he strides toward the half circle of stone benches and two of its occupants. Aurelan glances away from Jim after having laughed about something and spies Sam heading in their direction. Her mouth opens as she half-rises out of her seat. They haven’t seen one another since before Sam’s departure. Sam is glad to finally lay eyes on her again. She looks like home.

Which is exactly why Sam focuses on his brother, who has gotten to his feet and dropped his hands to his sides with a stiff posture like he expects a fight. Sam doesn’t call Jim by name, instead jerks his head to the side and paces away, only partly certain of his assumption that Jim will follow him. If Jim doesn’t, Sam will drag him by the back of the shirt. It might be awkward since Jimmy isn’t smaller in stature than him anymore, but that can’t be helped.

He doesn’t think too hard about this anger curling his fingers and turning a fear into a threat.

They slip into an alcove shielded by the growing ivy along the brick wall and face each other in silence for several minutes. Sam has the chance to study his brother’s face, to take note of all its changes: the hard jaw line, the tiny marks from long-ago acne, the familiarity of their mother’s nose and clean definition of their grandfather’s eyebrows. It’s not a remarkably beautiful face but its strong lines would be considered handsome by most people. That at least, Sam thinks, still breeds true in the Kirks.

Jim’s expression is more difficult to study. It is a mixture of things, all of them painful but probably invisible to almost everyone except Sam (they learned how to hide pain shortly after Winona married Frank). The emotion Sam recognizes first and perhaps the best is the undisguised want in his brother’s eyes. He swallows the stone in his throat and finds his voice in response to that desire.

“Not her. You can take everything else—everything, Jimmy—but not Aurelan.” Jim’s surprise, quickly masked, confuses Sam but he presses on. “She’s the one thing I want, the only future I want for myself, so please don’t—” He stops short of begging and draws in a quiet breath.

It’s the first time he’s ever admitted to needing someone other than himself. Will Jimmy condemn him for his desperation?

Jim looks like he is going to reply and Sam braces for it but in the end the younger Kirk only dips his head in a jerk of a nod. Sam thinks his heart is stupid for racing the way it is, like at the onset of an adrenaline rush. It’s too much effort to get himself under control so he doesn’t try. He manages a flat “Thanks” and turns away from his brother. Jim doesn’t prevent him from leaving.

In the short confrontation, the ice had broken between them yet somehow created a wider chasm, too. It leaves Sam disturbed for days.

He will tell himself as he replays their meeting in his head over and over again he imagined the whisper of his name, because why should Jimmy have anything to say to him in return?

~~~

In a busy corridor one day, Sam catches sight of Leonard. Jim is casually walking beside him. Their heads are close together as they talk, and Jim’s arm is slung around McCoy’s shoulders.

The image is salt in his wound; at the same time Sam is comforted to see that Jim is not alone.

A classmate—a second-year cadet—bumps Sam’s elbow with his armful of study materials. He apologizes, smiles at Sam, and curiously peers in the direction where Sam is looking with an absent expression. “Hey, I meant to ask. Your last name is Kirk, isn’t it? Are you related to Jim Kirk?”

“He’s my brother.”

“Wow, how awesome! I didn’t know there were two of you!”

Funny how that works, Sam muses as he returns to his dorm room. He used to be the only Kirk. Then he left when Jim arrived, and Jim was the only Kirk. Now that they are both here, how does that change their future?

~~~

People watch him when they think he can’t tell.

“It’s Sam Kirk,” they say to their comrades. “Didn’t he drop out?”

“No, I think he went on sabbatical.”

“Was he sick?”

“Boy looks healthy to me. Rawr!”

“Hey, who’s better looking—Jim or Sam?”

The campus speculation is annoying. In terms of gossip, he becomes popular. The only person more popular than he is is his brother. Sam doesn’t believe that’s something to be proud of.

Leonard, who hasn’t come back to pester him in weeks, sends Sam a comm message out of the blue early one morning. It reads: Jim’s sulking. Campus consensus is you’re better in bed.

Sam drops his comm back on his desk but he’s grinning as he pulls his black undershirt over his head.

~~~

Studying for exams is tiring. Sam is exhausted. Lying on his stomach, he wants nothing more than to sleep. It would be so easy to pretend he is, but the knocking persists, not the kind that is heavy-handed like Leonard’s would have been at one time but polite. Persistently polite. Sam shoves away from his bed with an aggrieved sigh, running fingers idly through his hair, and reaches for the doorknob.

Aurelan greets him from the other side of the door.

Flabbergasted because she’s never tracked him to his room before in the past, he automatically steps aside to let her inside. Aurelan gives her surroundings a cursory glance before her eyes land unerringly on the articles of clothing lying haphazardly at the foot of his bed. Sam makes an embarrassed apology under his breath as he grabs the pile, unfortunately dropping a pair of dirty underwear on the floor in the process, and hides it in the tiny space designated as his closet.

“I had wondered,” Aurelan says, “if you were messy or neat.”

Sam feels the tips of his ears turning red. “I’m both, I think. Messy with laundry, neat with paperwork.”

For some reason that brings a smile to her face. He has to look away so he doesn’t stare like a dope. Aurelan is in his room! But why in the world would she come to see him?

Then an answer occurs to Sam, and his heart sinks. He doesn’t know how to start an apology for something he isn’t sorry for.

Aurelan surprises him. “Mind if I sit?” she asks.

Sam shakes his head, watching as Aurelan chooses to perch on the end of his bed.

The young woman looks up at him, takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders. Her hand goes out in a wordless command to give her his hand.

Not knowing want else to do—he certainly can’t turn down the invitation—he lets her fingers snag his. Aurelan tugs him to the side of the bed. “Sit,” she orders, like this is her room and Sam is the visitor.

Sam’s body obeys before he has a chance to think about it.

“Sam, I think you owe me an explanation.”

With the hand that isn’t holding hers, he twists his fingers into the bed sheet. “What kind of explanation?”

“You left school.” Her eyes accuse him, You didn’t tell me you were leaving. “Why?”

“I—” I was tired of school. I was burned out. I had obligations elsewhere. So many easy answers at the tip of his tongue and still he can’t lie to her. “Aurelan, it’s personal.”

“Yes, I know—and I hadn’t intended to ask because it wasn’t my right to ask. But you made it personal for me, Sam, a few weeks ago.”

His gaze finds a spot on the opposite wall. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

He tries to take his hand away from hers but Aurelan tightens her grip. A tense silence builds between them, though they are sitting so close the sides of their thighs are pressed together. Eventually Aurelan breaks the tension, keeping her voice low and quiet. “Jim and I became friends last year.”

Sam imagines his heart trembles just the way his fingers twisted in the sheet are. Words desert him, along with any thought of anger.

“You said something to him that day, Sam. Now he’s avoiding me.”

Sam closes his eyes, thinking oddly, Oh, Jimmy.

“You can’t do that,” Aurelan continues softly. “It’s not fair to me.”

This conversation is going to destroy him, he’s sure of it. “Do you… want him?” Sam asks, almost stumbling over the question.

“What?”

“Jim,” Sam says the name without opening his eyes. “Do you want him?”

“Sam, why would you ask me that?” Aurelan sounds troubled.

Sam has to look at her. It’s a perfect invitation to confess his feelings. But what would that earn him if she prefers Jim?

“Did Jim tell you what happened between us?” he asks abruptly.

She shakes her head. “He never talks about his past, but I tried not to think of that as strange because you’ve never talked about your past either.”

“Our pasts aren’t the same,” he tells her, acknowledging that painful fact. “Until fifteen months ago, I hadn’t seen him for eight years.”

“Oh,” she says quietly.

He makes a snap decision, because this is Aurelan and in all likelihood they may never be this close again. “Can I tell you about the last time I saw him, Aurelan?”

“Do you want to?” she asks, sincere, nothing hidden in her tone.

“I never want to, but you’re the only person I feel like I could tell if I had to. So I’m choosing to tell you,” he explains, idly wondering when his hands became clammy and cold.

Something soft enters her eyes, there and gone. Sam has never seen anything like it before. It gives him courage.

“My father died when Jimmy was born,” he begins. “You know that. Most people do. Our mother re-married when Jimmy was five. I don’t think she wanted to be alone anymore. I can understand that now, but what I won’t ever forgive her for is marrying a man like Frank and letting him hurt us. She might say she never knew but that’s her fault too, because we were her children and her responsibility. She should have made the effort to know where our bruises came from.” He stops for a second, reminding himself this isn’t about Winona. “So basically it was a bad situation at home, and I was young enough and stupid enough to think running away was the answer. I tried to, and my mistake was taking Jimmy along with me. When we got to the shuttle terminal, I… chickened out. Jimmy didn’t understand my fear. He always was the braver of the two of us.” Sam tries to smile but finds his mouth is trembling too badly. “He wouldn’t turn back even when I threatened him. He repeated to my face everything I had been saying for years. He told me it was our chance to find somewhere we could be normal, be happy, to find people who loved us instead of hated us. I didn’t realize he’d believe those words with such conviction simply because I had said them. I got mad. It was everything I didn’t want to hear because I knew I couldn’t do it.” Sam takes an unsteady breath and wonders, “Did he ever figure out I wasn’t really angry with him, Aurelan? That I was only angry because I had disappointed myself?”

“Oh, Sam.”

He turns his face away from her pity, knowing he has to finish the story. It wants to be heard; he wants her to hear it. “That was the moment I messed up badly, the moment I’ve gone back to in my dreams a thousand times to undo. I said, ‘You think you’re so s-smart—'” He chokes on the next words. “‘What do you need me for, Jimmy? Get the hell out of here before it’s too late!'” There is a terrible burning sensation in his throat. “I didn’t mean to s-say it, ” Sam swears, realizing his choking is due to fighting back the pain in this chest. “But Jimmy did it, Aurelan. He turned around without another word, and he left without me. He was just a kid and my brother and I let him go. By the time I went to look for him, he had vanished from the terminal.”

Aurelan’s arms are around his middle, clinging, and Sam can smell of her shampoo as she lays her cheek against his shoulder. The need to turn into her embrace and accept the solace he’s never had is fierce. He pulls away from Aurelan and stands up instead, ignoring her plea of “Sam.”

Sam just looks at her when he is across the room. “Now you know why I haven’t said anything to anyone.”

“Sam, it’s all right. I—”

“About my feelings for you,” he clarifies softly, causing her to fall silent. “I don’t deserve what everyone else deserves… and I don’t want you to love somebody like me, Aurelan.”

Though her dark brown eyes shine with tears, Aurelan’s chin lifts in that stubborn way he has always adored about her. “You can’t pick who I love, Samuel Kirk.”

“No, but I can tell you when it’s a bad idea.” He motions to the door. “You should leave now. My roommate is due back in a few minutes.”

Aurelan rises from the foot of his bed, hugging herself. Her visage is grim, but she doesn’t say anything else to him until she is at the door. Then it’s just his name.

He feels more defeated than tired. Almost hollowed out. It’s an effort to speak. “What?”

“Jim’s interest in me has never been romantic.”

Sam stills in the act of running his fingers along the edge of his cluttered desk.

“He always wants to talk about you,” Aurelan whispers. “Just you. Even if you blame yourself, Sam, I don’t think Jim blames you. I think he misses you.”

Sam stays in the same spot long after she is gone. His roommate arrives an hour later, takes one look at his tear-stained face, and pivots in a smooth motion for the door again. He never asks why Sam looked so heartbroken that day, and Sam never tells him.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• I Follow (4/4) – from February 1, 2013
• I Follow (3/4) – from February 1, 2013
• I Follow (1/3) – from January 23, 2013

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