By Thursday, he has a better grip on everything again. Maybe it's the excitement over seeing Will that has him in a better mood--combined with all the work he's managed to finish on those last days before he showed up. He has an appointment with Chad's doctor the following week, and now that he's taken that step, is able to shove all that worry about what could be wrong with his brain to the side.

There hasn't been any more bouts of temporary amnesia. At least, Sonny thinks, none that he knows of.

The rain's finally moved on to darken another state's doorstep, and but it left behind for him the first flowers scattered along one of his paths to the garden.

The forecast had predicted a snowfall in Chicago, and he had immediately called his mom to brag about it.

The sun as well as the promise of spring has him changing his course earlier than he's planned. He'd put off more work on the library and set up shop outdoors to work on the second floor veranda, to fix the damage.

Sonny listens to music, and feels stronger than an ox. He's gonna have his guys do the majority of the early planting, he decides. He just doesn't have the time. But definitely next year, he's gonna do it himself. Or as much as he's able.

This time next year, he's gonna sit out here on the veranda on Sundays in the morning, eating powdered doughnuts, drinking coffee--with Will. Lazy Sundays looking out over the lawn and the gardens. And maybe a few years after that, watching the kids play in the yards, in the gardens.

He's wanted his own family his whole life, and it's good to know that about yourself. He's never really had that need inside him before, the need to grab the here and now by the horns while look hopefully towards what's yet to come.

So Sonny knows it's right, what he feels for Will. What he's planning for them. He'll help him in the pub whenever he needs it, but he'll have his own job.

He turns over his hands, looking at his palms, the calluses that had developed. The little cuts and scars he's thought of as battle scars, medals of honor.

He'll use them, his back and imagination to work on other's houses. People in Salem will first think of Jackson "Sonny" Kiriakis when they ask for a contractor.

You should've seen the DiMera mansion before he bought it, they'll say. You want a real bang for your buck, give Sonny a call. He'll take good care of you.

Just the idea makes him smile as he rips out a rotten piece.

By 4, he's finished the whole veranda floor and even managed to stretch his entire body on it, facedown, to give himself a break. He falls asleep with Rick Springfield wishing he has Jesse's girl.

And he's still asleep when he gets up and walks down the sagging curve of the stairs all the way out to the front lawn.

The grass is thick between his toes, the heat of the sun pouring over his face, beating down on his head despite his tanned Greek skin.

Others are inside, but he wants to look at the pond, at the lily pads. He wants to sit in the shade of the tree that overlooks the water, and read a book.

He likes the music from the songbirds, and doesn't really mind the heat. The heat tells the truth. The cold air inside the DiMera mansion drips with deception.

It's so devastating to watch the house he loves rotting away from resentment.

He stops right at the edge of the pond, looking at the green saucers of the lily pads, the little buds adorned on top. He watches a butterfly fly by, the sun showing off its wings so it's a colorful blur. He hears the splash of a frog, the chirping of a cicada.

He turns when he hears his name called. And smiles when he sees the man he loves crossing the lawn over to him. As long as they're together, Sonny thinks, as long as they love each other, the DiMera mansion will not fall.

"Sonny! Sonny!"

Panicked, Will grabs his arms and shakes him. He'd watched Sonny go down those uneasy stairs as he'd walked up the driveway, how he was walking towards the pond in a weird, hesitating stride completely unlike his normal confident one.

His eyes are open, but they're completely glazed over, that tells Will he's really not seeing him at all, instead seeing something--or someone--else.

"Sonny." Will keeps his voice firm, along with his hands as he lays one on Sonny's backside, the other firm on his face.

"Sonny, look at me. Can you hear me? It's Will."

"Come sit with me under the tree so nobody can see us."

There's no tree, only a rotten stump. Panic rises up in Will's throat, but he forces it back down. Trusting his gut, Will leans in and rests his lips on Sonny's.

The time it takes for Sonny to respond is slow and dreamy, kind of sliding over him. Against him. Inside him. So Will knows the second Sonny wakes up by the way his body goes stiff. He sways slightly, but Will doesn't let go.

"Easy, Sonny. Just don't let go of me until you can walk again."

"S-sorry. Gotta sit down." Sonny collapses straight down into the grass, resting his head on his knees. "Whoa."

"You're okay. You're okay." Will kneels beside Sonny, brushing his hair with his fingers and murmuring nonsense. "Take a minute to catch your breath."

"What the hell is happening to me? I was on the veranda. I was working on the veranda."

"Is that the last thing you remember?"

Now Sonny looks up, looks at the pond. "I have no idea how I got here."

"You came down the stairs. The ones from the side of the house. I thought you were gonna barrel right through them." Will's heart almost clenches again, remembering how unsteady they are. "Those things aren't safe, Sonny. You should block them off."

"Yeah." Sonny rubs a hand over his face. "Have myself committed to a mental institution while I'm at it."

"You're not crazy."

"I'm sleepwalking in broad daylight. I'm seeing things I know aren't really there. I'm hearing voices. That doesn't sound like someone who isn't crazy."

"That's just your sheltered childhood talking. But here in Salem, that's not even something to write home about. Hell, my grandma Marena had an exorcism when she was possessed by the devil, performed by my step grandfather when he was still alive."

"What did he do?"

"Oh, classic exorcism 101 from the bible. Cross against the chest to cast him out. You starting to feel better?"

"I have no idea. What the hell did I do? What did you see me do?"

"You came down the stairs and walked straight towards the pond. You weren't walking normally, so I knew something wasn't right."

'What do you mean?"

"You have this nice, confident stride when you walk, and you weren't doing that. Then you stopped when you got to the pond."

No way in hell is Will gonna tell him how for one terrifying moment, he was convinced Sonny was going to walk right into the water.

"I kept calling out for you, until you finally turned around, and you smiled at me." Will's stomach clenches as he remembers. "But you weren't smiling at me. I don't think you actually saw me at all. You said you wanted to sit under the tree, where no one can see us."

"But there's not even a tree here."

"Actually." Will points towards the stump. "There used to be, at one point. Sounds like your dreams are about things that happened a long time ago. It's a gift, Sonny."

"Where's the receipt?" Sonny shakes his head. "I have no idea, because when I wake up, I don't remember anything. But now I'm wondering if I should start restraining myself when I go to bed."

"I can help you with that tonight."

"...Did you just tell me one of your kinks?"

"Did it work?"

"Not a bad try." Sonny takes a breath, then frowns once he realizes. "Jesus, it's Thursday. Not only don't I know where I am, I don't even know when I am."

Will can't stand the thought of watching him sink in despair again, so he keeps his voice hasty and imposing. "Let me guess. You didn't make it out to the city?"

Sonny winces, "You sound like Abi. I just forgot. Kind of."

Will arches an eyebrow. "Sounds to me like you need all the support you can get." With that, he takes Sonny's face in his hands, and kisses his forehead, which serves to make Sonny smile.

"Probably not gonna work, but thanks anyway. What time is it?" Sonny checks his phone and swears. "I need to trade my phone in. It keeps saying the wrong time. I know it's past noon, but it sure as hell isn't midnight."

"It's almost four. You did say to come early."

"You're right. I did say that. Wanna sit back and drink some wine with me?"

Will watches him closely for the next few minutes, but he appears to be fine as he chooses a wine. Gets out some lovely old wine glasses out of his new cabinets.

Sonny had scared the crap out of him, Will has no problem admitting. Badly. He was so sure Sonny was planning to walk into the water, drowning himself under the lily pads in the way of Thomas Horton.

And with that realization, comes a new possibly that hits him like a bolt of lightning.

"Sonny..."

"I have steaks and a grill." Sonny says as he pours the wine. He needs to focus on the mundane things--keep himself here in the present. "Every guy worth their salt can cook steak. If you don't eat red meat, we'll have to settle for frozen pizza."

"What do I care what color meat is if I eat it?" Will jokes. "Let's sit outside. I have a theory I want to share with you."

They walk over to the two wooden boxes Sonny's currently using for chairs, and sit down.

"What if it's not ghosts at all? Or not just ghosts?" Will asks him.

"Oh that's an awesome thought. What else could it be? Zombies? Vampires? Maybe a good old fashioned curse. That's just what I need to sleep at night. Thanks a lot."

"What would you say if I told you it might be reincarnation?"

"What, like past lives? An old soul being reborn in the present?" Sonny shrugs. "I have no idea."

"I always thought it was a good system. A fair one, too. Everyone deserves a second chance, don't they? Maybe all your dreams and sleepwalking is you remembering things that happened here because you used to be here before. Maybe you're Tom, coming back after all these years to find his beloved Alice."

"That's romantic. If I'm Tom, you're Alice."

"You don't get to pick, smartass. And if you're not gonna take it seriously, I'm just gonna stop talking."

"Okay, don't need to get snippy with me." Sonny sips his wine, staring off into space. "So your theory is I came here, and all these weird things that have been happening are because in a past life, I was Thomas Horton?"

"Can't be as crazy as the idea of the place being haunted. Explains why you bought it in the first place, why you needed to. Why you're so desperate to return it to its former glory. Why you're seeing the disappearing furniture in his bedroom upstairs."

"Reincarnation." Sonny repeats. "I'll take that over a brain tumor?"

"A what?!"

Sonny shakes his head, "Nothing."

"You seriously think you have a brain tumor? That's ridiculous, Sonny." Will's tone is harder than he's meant it to, so he tries more gently. "That's completely idiotic. There's absolutely nothing wrong with your brain, or any other important part of your body."

"Course not. Just thinking out loud."

But Will can see it all over Sonny's face, and after standing up, slides over to sit in his lap. "You honestly think you have something in your brain that's affecting your vision, your behavior?"

"I don't think that. I just…look, I'm just taking some tests, so I can completely rule it out."

"You're not sick, Sonny." Will kisses one of his cheeks, then the other.

Never in his life has there been a guy who repeatedly, so easily, brings out his soft side. "I promise you. But if having some doctor tell you the exact same thing helps you accept it, go right ahead."

"Please don't say any of this to Chad." Sonny takes Will's hand until Will eases back to look him in the eyes. "He's already got enough with the wedding. That's more than enough for him to be worrying about."

"You seriously mean to tell me you're doing all those brain testsby yourself? That's not how we do things in Salem, Sonny. If you don't want to tell Chad, fine. But tell me when your appointment is, and I'll go with you."

"Will, I'm a grown man."

"I'm not letting you go by yourself. Either I'm coming with you, or I tell Chad and we force you to take us both.

"Fine! I'll let you know when I schedule it, and I'll let you hold my hand. But right now, I'm betting on your current reincarnation theory. It's definitely out there, but it's bound to be a lot less messy, or expensive, than brain surgery."

"They say Thomas Horton was handsome. Like another James Dean." Will trails a hand into his disheveled hair.

It's dark, Will muses, and he bets it'll definitely streak in the summer.

"I think you're a serious improvement this time around."

"Oh really?" Sonny hooks his arms around his waist. "Let's hear some more."

"I've never been one to go for the James Dean type. Too flashy for my taste." Will cocks his head, leaning in to kiss him. "You suit my taste just fine."

Sonny pulls him closer, and, while still sitting on the crate, rests his chin on Will's shoulder as he looks out from the back porch. "I love you, Will."