I write Caine and Sam obsession stories. Deal with it.

This is a collection of some.

Tinted Glass

(3 months after the end of the FAYZ)

Dark eyes, dark hair, a mouth, a mirrors were stupid. They made you feel like there was something wrong with you, that you were green or purple or whatever. This mirror wasn't tinted, but it was sure doing a good job of making him feel like there was something wrong with behind him was a perfect boy's room. Work on the desk, neat framed photos of him with his friends, him with his family, smiling manically as if to prove "I was happy. I'm having a good life". Expensive stuff. A guitar, a laptop, an iPod, everything else. But nothing had been Caine's room for nearly sixteen he hated it.

Dark eyes, dark hair, a mouth, a he looked in the mirror in his room at Coates- well, that really was tinted. It was the most expensive school in the whole of California but they still had crappy mirrors. They were all slightly reddish and made you look like some kind of monster when you looked into your is what they Academy, the school of .This room was more him than his room at home. More personal. He had been at Coates a while and spent most of his time, weekdays, weekends, even the holidays kids could stay there. Not his choice, his parents. They weren't too happy with their eldest son. They hadn't been so worried when they first sent him to Coates. They had some crazy idea he wasn't too bad at the moment, he hadn't really done anything, but as time wore on they saw how well he was fitting in and realised Coates wasn't a place to send your kids to make them better, it was where you sent them to get them out of the way. Where you didn't have to see them every day. And they still kept him didn't want was a bad influence on their real hadn't known he was adopted then, but there was always something not right. He wasn't like any of his "family". He didn't want to fit in, be average, be ordinary. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be in control. Was there anything wrong with that? Then again, maybe it wasn't genetic. Sam had never seemed very much like him and they were twins. But it also wasn't like he'd ever exactly talked to maybe it was just he really was red.

He walked-it was viewed as one of the seven deadly sins in the Soren's house to run- down the stairs of his house, pausing only at the shiny mirror in the long, spotless eyes, dark hair, a mouth, a his eyes were worried, panicky. His wasn't ready for another meal with his fake parents and sisters, where they would ignore him, act as though he was invisible until he couldn't stand it anymore and they got into a fight where his mother would invariably point out all his flaws and mistakes in an even, calm, cold, voice. And although they never said it, you could tell they were thinking it: "You're not even our son."He wasn't ready for this again. He would snap.

They had nearly disowned him after the FAYZ. They had just about decided to keep him after realising the neighbours would notice, and start asking awkward questions about where their son had gone. The community might judge them. It was best just to keep him. It wasn't like they would have to see him; he'd be away at Coates. But the way they acted around him most of the time, he might as well not have been there.

He entered the white themed dining room, purposely making a lot of noise. No one looked up. Judith, his twenty year old sister wordlessly passed him a plate of food. His sisters hadn't been too pleased when they found out he was adopted. He had only been adopted by the Sorens in the first place because they had wanted a boy so badly, which they hated him for now. He had never especially liked his sisters. They just had nothing in common. Even more so now. His mother exhaled and said in a very forced way, "So, Judith, Mara, Joanna, how has school been this week?"

"Fine."

"Good."

"I got a A plus in History!"

Mrs Soren's eyes narrowed. "Hopefully you won't repeat that too often, Joanna, or people with start to notice you too much, and think of you as a History freak!" She tacked a laugh on the end to sound table lapsed into silence. His father kept sending Caine sideways glances, as if it was his fault. Caine clinked his spoon a little too loudly against his plate and his father shot him a glare. He knew what was coming. Whenever they started noticing him…

"That's nice anyway, Joanna. It's good to know all our children are enjoying school."Caine knew she was trying to provoke him into saying something, but he couldn't help it.

"Right. So now I don't exist." he blurted mother turned slowly to face him.

"What did you say?" He swallowed. Now he had started there was no going back. It was like all the anger was building up inside him after all those weeks of being ignored over the holiday and threatening to explode out of his mouth. He calmed himself down. One thing he had learnt from the Sorens was how to conceal your emotions under a blank mask.

"I said, why are you acting like I don't exist?"

"Because you may exist, but that doesn't mean I want to hear you talk. Do you want to know why? We don't think you're a real person. There's something wrong with you. We tried to bring you up well, we managed it with your sisters, but you, no."His voice rose louder so he was almost shouting.

"Are you saying I'm "bad"?"

Then his father joined in. "That's exactly what we're saying. And not just that, you're twisted and evil and a murderer."Caine gasped. They'd never brought that up before. He didn't even want to think about it, his father carried on, shouting now, "We don't even want to know you! I'd run away from you if I was a teenager or kid!"

His mother went on in that calm, controlled voice, "You've killed people. You've let people die. You've hurt people who didn't do anything to you."

"I know. I know." He struggled to stop his voice from breaking. "I know I have! The guilt is eating me up from the inside. You don't have to use it against me as well! Tell me you hate me. Tell me you think I'm a bad person. Just don't remind me about the things I was doing three months ago! Maybe I've changed."

"Fine." His mother went on without even an iota of sympathy. "You want to just know the problems we have with you, as a person? You're bad, and you're a freak. We don't want to know you, but we do and we're stuck knowing you."They had never gone this far before. And then she said it."You're not even our son."And that was it. He couldn't help it, anger burst out of his hands, the table cracked and his mother flew through the lost concentration for a few seconds. The room spun. He saw her face, red, screaming

"Freak! Freak!" The rest of them moving away. Getting away from him.

"If I'm such a freak, why am I here?"

"Fine! Go! We don't want you!"

"What?"There was a sudden, ominous silence.

His father spoke."We've changed our minds. You aren't our son. Get out. Get out of here! Pack your bags and go. You don't want to be here either. You don't fit."

"Are you serious? Where am I meant to go?"

"We don't care. It's not our problem any more. You're not our problem any more. Take your things and be out of here in an hour."

Tinted green glass lying on the road, from a bottle, crushed by one of the many cars rushing past. He could see his reflection in eyes, dark hair, a mouth, a nose. Just the same. Just the same as it always was, when he was a little boy and no one thought there was anything wrong with was had a small black bag with his most important things in, nothing else. The rest of stuff was in cardboard boxes, ready to be collected by anybody with the code word Greenfly. He could collect them when he found somewhere to stay, but most likely he would end up in care. Not adopted again. Who would want to take him in now?

He had been walking for what felt like- and probably was- many hours. Four? Six? It was getting dark. His clothes were soaked through and his feet ached so badly they felt like they'd fall off. But what hurt the most was that when he left, no one was watching him walk down the path. No one waved. No one in the family he'd been a part of for fifteen years collapsed on the side of the road. He couldn't walk another was nowhere he could go. No one at Coates had parents who even cared about them, let alone another random kid. He couldn't get help from any of them; they wouldn't be allowed to leave their houses. He didn't know anyone in any of the towns except Perdido Beach. Perdido Beach… No, he couldn't. He could. He was too sore to argue with himself. He dug his phone out of the front pocket of the bag and dialled the number Diana had stolen off Dekka "for prank calling". Sam picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Um, yeah. Hi."

"Sorry, who is this? You're kind of muffled, there's like a million cars in the background."

"It's Caine…""…Caine? Is that you?"

"Yeah… listen, I'm in major trouble and I just… couldn't think who else to call…" Don't cry. Don't sound like you're about to cry… not in front of Sam... oh crap.

"Where are you?" What?

"You're actually coming?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Um, I'm on the highway… somewhere…"

"What can you see near you?"

"There's a gas station…"Caine could hear him exhale.

"Okay, I know where you are, you're on the edge of town. Stay there, don't move, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."He hung up. Caine didn't move to put the phone away. The rain was crashing down on him. He was shaking and he felt Sam didn't come…

What felt like hours later a car screeched to a halt by the side of the road. A figure leapt out.

"Thanks for the lift, Mrs Gaither." Sam yelled back. Caine watched the car speed away to the vet's along the highway through half closed eyelids and tried to move but it didn't work.

"Caine?" Sam approached him slowly. "Are you okay? Can you get up?"He couldn't. "

No…"He felt a warm arm drape around him and pull him up into a standing position. He sagged and nearly fell but Sam caught him.

"Come on, you can walk. Step… and again… you can do it."One of the longest half hours ever passed in a blur of grey and the feel of rain falling and the sound of Sam's voice urging him on. Eventually they reached Ocean Boulevard. The last few steps were the hardest. Sam unlocked the door and half dragged him over to the sofa where he lay, not moving, until he drifted off into sleep.

He woke up a little while later to the sound of water running. Not more water. He was sick of water. He tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled noise… he was so numb… he let himself be picked up and his shirt and outer clothes be pulled off and lowered slowly into the warm water. He lay there and felt movement returning. He tried to move his toes and found he could. He gradually sat up and looked around the bathroom. Sam was gone. It was a tiny cramped room, nothing compared to his house… to his old house's giant marble en suites but it was warm and felt lived in, unlike the uncannily pristine rooms he was used to at home. No, not his home any more…There was a knock at the door.

"Caine, you alive in there?" Sam."Maybe," Caine groaned. Sam gave a low laugh. "I'll be ten minutes." He looked around and found his black bag with some spare clothes in and pulled them on. He searched around for a mirror and found one inside a cupboard with soap in. Was it just the mirror, or did he really look like that? He fervently hoped not. Dark eyes, dark hair, a mouth, a nose. But huge dark circles to match and a beaten and exhausted expression. He couldn't have that. He tried to smile but in his reflection the corners of his mouth only twitched. He just didn't have any smile left in him.

Sam was waiting outside with about a million blankets piled high as Caine pulled the door shut. He was attacked by them being thrown on top of him before he'd even taken two steps.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he yelled- the fierceness of Sam's tone surprised him. "You are not going to die or catch pneumonia here, or anywhere else."

"Wasn't planning on it." Caine grumbled, but accepted the blankets and followed Sam back over to the grinned, suddenly in a much lighter mood.

"Course you weren't. You're Caine."

"Yeah. Which kind of brings me onto something else, why am I here?" Finally he could ask what had been bugging him.

Sam looked kind of puzzled. "You called me, remember? Oh great, have you got amnesia or something?"

"No, " Caine said. "I mean why did you come and help me out? I'm Caine. You're Sam. You hate me."

"I don't."

"You do."

"You're telling me how I feel about you? I don't hate you. Dislike you a lot sometimes, sure. But only when you're trying to kill me. Maybe you hate me, and I have hated you a couple of times in a big way. But now, no. Anyway, you're my twin. Hating you would be like hating myself."

"I think that only works with identical twins."

"Whatever."

"By the way, right now I quite like you. Except when you throw blankets at my face."

"That's good. So no massive fight where we blow up the town?"

"Not today. Anyway it was only ever because you were the leader of Perdido Beach. Don't take it personally. Actually, no, that's a lie. I wanted to kill you for being you after a while, but I've changed my mind. Things have kind of settled down now, you know, brother."

"If everything was different maybe we'd even be friends." Sam said optimistically.

"Nah, if everything was different we'd be brothers and hate each other's guts."

"We are brothers now."

Caine sighed. "Yeah, I guess we are. I've been a bit of a crap brother, haven't I?"

"Well…" Sam smiled. "Joking. I've been too. I'm older, I'm meant to protect you."

"You're older by about three minutes!" Caine said indignantly. "And anyway, you kind of made up for it today. Thanks, by the way. Hard for me to say that to you, but it's been a weird day."

Sam suddenly got up and ran out the room, leaving Caine wondering what he had said. He came back thirty seconds later with a huge mug of hot chocolate and shoved it at Caine.

"What is it with you and shoving things at my face?" Caine moaned. "And why are you being so nice to me? It's annoying."Sam only smiled again. It was like he was doing Caine's share of smiling too. He was irritatingly happy.

"Why are you so happy?"

"You're alive." He said simply.

It was late and they had been talking for hours. Catching up on people from Coates and the town and just generally finding out about the things they didn't know about each other. Like Sam's favourite colour was blue, he loved the sun, hated algebra and wanted to become a professional surfer. He was also scared of the had talked about himself too, told Sam how his favourite colour was deep red-purple, he secretly loved watching sunsets, he hated fish and wanted to become supreme ruler of the world. Which came as no great surprise to Sam. He told Sam what he'd told no one, he had never dated a girl before talking a little about deeper things too. He told Sam about his family. Sam told him about how he barely saw his mom anymore. He was also the only person who could really understand what he felt about the FAYZ. The mixed up emotions, mainly guilt and they got tired of talking they randomly looked up their horoscope in the paper;

On the one hand you may think you've met a deadline and done everything required. On the other you could be unsettled by news from someone new to the scene. Their take on a situation could be very different. All this could leave you in a muddle - and once again impressed by those who carry on day to day affairs regardless of confusion. Your own inspiration could come from them, music and those involved with the Arts.

They tried to figure out what it meant but gave up. Caine was half asleep by then so Sam squished a sleeping bag into his room and insisted Caine take the bed. Caine had only been in Sam's room once before, when he was searching the house to find out his power. It was the same, but totally different seeing it through new eyes. The posters on the wall, the photos, even the work in a heap on the floor. He nearly fell asleep straight away, but kept awake long enough to ask sleepily, "Sam? Why are you being so nice to me?" He only stayed awake long enough to hear the reply.

"You're my brother."And then he fell asleep.

Caine woke up in the middle of the day.

He looked around for the mirror. He hoped it wasn't tinted. But there wasn't one.

He smiled for the first time in a long time.

Why was he smiling so much? He was Caine Soren. He didn't get overexcited over nothing.

But he wasn't. He was just Caine now. Not Caine Soren.

Maybe just Caine could smile.