EPILOGUE

The next week-end

Sam turned his head to face the wind, enjoying the slight rocking of the boat as much as he could.

It was a great day for October - not too cold, sunny. Just what he needed to get the boat out one last time before winter settled in.

Toby was gripping the rail, and Sam smiled. His boss definitely wasn't a sailor. But then, he had chosen to come. It wasn't as if Sam had asked for help, or had been unable to manage today's activities by himself.

The doctors who oversaw his post-transplant supervision were happy with him. Everyone was keeping tabs on his health, too, making sure he didn't overdo it, he didn't forget his medication, and didn't miss an appointment at the hospital, and drank enough. He was finding his friends overbearing at times, but he was glad to have them. His recovery would have been hell without their support. It had been hard enough as it was.

It was the first time he had been on the water since the attack. He had almost forgotten how good it felt. He had learned to operate a small boat very young, with his uncle, and since then, he'd found himself unable to go for a long period of time without sailing. Winters on the East Coast were hell for him.

His friends had expressed . concerns, when he had told them what his plans for the day were. They'd tried to cajole him, to bully him, to corrupt him into staying home, but he'd been untreatable. It was probably going to be the most beautiful week end before the bad weather arrived, he had argued, and he wasn't asking for permission to do anything. He wasn't a kid anymore, thank you very much.

They had relented at long last, partly because they didn't want to see him putting too much energy into the fight - he still tired more easily than before - and partly, he suspected, because they were relieved to see him passionate about something, anything, again.

He had felt so down, these last few months, often keeping to himself, and only sharing what was strictly necessary, that they had been worried.

But things were looking up, and he was ready to leave his fear of being sick again behind him. Now if they could the same .

Toby had managed to guilt him into accepting that he come. He would have preferred to be alone, but he had to admit that he did that too often, so he'd finally caved in.

And now he was leaving Toby alone, which wasn't the thing to do. But then, his boss had been a pain in the ass all morning, complaining about every single thing Sam did, about the movements of the boat, the sun, the birds, and he had had it. But still, he couldn't leave him alone. Besides, Toby would come himself if he didn't make the first step. He always did, now.

Checking the sails, he made his way to his boss, who eyed critically the way his hair were coming into his eyes with the wind.

"You need a haircut," he stated.

"I know," Sam said, good-naturedly. "You okay in there?" he asked.

Toby nodded resignedly. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" he complained. "You're gonna make it last."

"I didn't force you to come," Sam exploded. "Damn it, Toby, could you, maybe, refrain from spoiling it for me?"

He bit his lip and Toby dropped his eyes.

"I'm sorry," they said together, and they shared a laugh.

"I shouldn't have blown up at you," Sam added. "It's just . Look, this is something that's been a constant in my life since I was thirteen. It survived Dad's affair, MS, my uncle's death, Lisa, and a couple of crappy birthdays." Toby smiled at that - Sam's reputation for having truly rotten birthdays was a well established one. They didn't even try to celebrate it anymore, now, they just wished him well in the morning, and prayed that he wouldn't have a nervous breakdown in the course of the day. "I love this, and . and it's been a long time since I've done something I enjoyed this much."

Toby nodded. "I didn't want to spoil it for you. And you're right, you deserve to have a good time at this. You've been very patient, for a long time, with all your doctors and the lot of us, constantly on your back. I would have screamed a lot more often than you did."

Sam chuckled, thinking back on a few times where the tenth person to ask him how he was paid for all the others - including the President once, and that hadn't been fun.

Most of the times, he just told himself that he'd been luckier than he could have hoped for. But sometimes, it wasn't enough, sometimes the "Why me?" question came to haunt him, and usually, whoever was in the neighborhood paid the price.

"That said," Toby went on, "you have to understand where we come from."

"I do."

"You scared us," Toby finished, ignoring him.

"I scared me, too," Sam pointed out. "And I remember too well what it was like on the other side, when Josh ."

"Yes, I know. We're worried, as we're entitled to be."

"Sure. But Toby, I'm fine. Three doctors said so."

Toby nodded, then said "There are days when you seem so ."

Sam knew what his boss was thinking. Depressed, scared, withdrawn . He couldn't deny it.

"You're fine," Toby said, and what had once been reassuring was now making him want to scream.

"I am now. I can still reject the transplant at some point. In fact, I will reject it eventually, there's no going around that," he said.

"Sam, most of the transplanted organs - "

"Are still viable after ten years, yes, I know," he cut. "I'll be forty- five, Toby, and by today's standards, it's awfully young."

"But there would still be another transplant. Or dialysis again," his boss pointed out.

Sam didn't answer the first thing that had come to his mind - "If I still have the strength to go through that." And that was just the tip of the iceberg. He was more vulnerable to microbes now that he had to take an immunosupressive treatment, he was also more likely to develop cancer, he had to check his diet and he still saw far too many doctors for his taste.

"Besides, who knows where medicine will be in ten years," Toby added and Sam had a small laugh.

"I'd never have pictured you as an idealist," he said. Toby frowned, and Sam added "I know everyone's worried. I just . I want to have a normal life again. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life locked in my office, or my apartment, just for fear of what might happen. And it took me long enough to have the guts to walk in a street on my own at night, so please, don't discourage me."

"You went - " Toby began, his tone already worried, then he smiled. "Oh, overprotective?"

"Yes," Sam said, trying to make it sound annoyed. "It was just something I had to do. Because I know that the man who did that is still free, and we'll probably never know who it was anyway. And I needed to check for myself that he wasn't going to jump on me at the first occasion."

"Where did you go?"

Sam hesitated, and it was enough for Toby to understand. "The pizzeria, of course. You just couldn't take it easy, could you?" he sighed.

"They were very nice. It was a slow night, they had the time to talk to me a little about that night. And I saw Lizzie and the others, too. I need closure, Toby. Is that a crime?"

His boss shook his head.

"Anyway, after the pizzeria, I came home, I called my therapist, and she arrived just in time to help me with a panic attack. That should teach me ."

"You never told."

"You were all gone for the Oregon thing. I was scared I'd bail out and call someone so I ." Toby was frowning at him and he relented. "I know, not the brightest thing I've ever done, but I - "

"Needed to do it, fine, I get that," Toby said.

They both stayed silent a moment. Sam finally spoke up. "I also wanted to thank you. For . you know ." He stopped, annoyed at the lump that had formed in his throat. He had always known that Toby liked him, contrary to appearances, but the way he had behaved at the hospital was above and beyond the call of duty, and he had never actually brought it up. He blinked quickly and went on, before he lost the courage. "For being there at the hospital, and taking me to your place, and helping me with the treatment, and - "

"You're welcome," Toby interrupted.

"Toby - " he tried again.

"Sam, all I did was hold your hand. Not the most helpful thing ever. If you want to thank someone, go find the surgeon who took care of you."

"I did," Sam said, surprised. "But, what you did wasn't nothing. I was terrified, and you were there, and it meant a lot to me." He stopped again to catch his breath, and finished, "And I wanted you to know that, before too much time had passed and it was too hard to say." To try to relieve the tension, he joked "I don't know when you found the time to do your work and being with me all at the same time, but I'm sure glad you did."

Toby nodded, and said "I know you don't like talking about this stuff any more than I do, so let's say that I'm glad you're still there, and if I could help you, I'm happy."

"Okay. Thanks." His watch began to beep and he rolled his eyes. "Time for the pills," he groaned.

"Is it hard?" Toby asked.

Sam almost smiled. Was it hard? Hell, yes, every single day. But he knew what his boss meant : was it hard to the point where he couldn't take it anymore?

"When it is," he said carefully, "I remember how I felt when they told me that I was rejecting the transplant. And I remember that someone died for me."

"And when that doesn't work?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "I have a few more rounds with my therapist. I write. I take my boat. I call a friend. And one of these days, I'd like to learn to pilot a plane."

Toby's eyes fairly bulged, and Sam paused, enjoying his effect. "You know, two motors, something small."

"You. Will. Not. Under. ANY. Circumstances - " Toby growled, and Sam laughed outright.

"Well, maybe not right now," he conceded, when he had been able to catch his breath.

"Under. ANY. Circumstance," his boss repeated, but he was smiling now.

The watch beeped again and Sam shrugged and went down in the living area of the boat. He swallowed the pills and came back up to see Toby contemplating the horizon. The sun was going down, and the sight was breathtaking.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Toby answered.

Sam leaned on the rail next to his friend, and they both admired the view in silence.

THE END

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