Chapter 9: The Release

She paused behind a tree, watching the still form at the pool where they'd pitched pennies. Sam was sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water up to his knees, sneakers and all. His hair was plastered to his head, and his shirt to his skin, from the rain. He looked utterly defeated, giving in to a secret he'd been running from for more than twenty years.

Elizabeth dialed her cell phone, and placed the receiver to her ear. "Myles?" she said softly. "I found him."

"You did? Where?"

"At the pool where we pitched pennies the other night."

She heard him sigh in relief. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know yet, Myles. Take your time getting over here, okay? Give me a few minutes with him."

"All right. I'll let the rest of the team know they can go home." There was a click in her ear.

She pocketed the cell phone and walked slowly down to the pool. She sat down next to him, and dunked her feet in the water as well.

"Run out of pennies?" she asked softly.

Sam didn't reply verbally, and his nod was so soft that Elizabeth almost missed it for the rain. He started moving his feet back and forth in the pool, watching his soggy laces swirl in the water.

She started to place a hand on his shoulder, then stopped, remembering what Myles had told her about his first reactions to his family. She leaned back on her hands and looked up into the rain. "You know, there's just something about a rainstorm. Makes everything seem new."

Sam nodded again, and tilted his face back to catch the full force of the falling water. His chest moved up and down in the motion of a sigh, yet he made no sound. Eyes closed, he spoke quietly to the sky. "I hate the rain."

"Why?"

"Ever since..." Sam stopped, and his mouth snapped shut. He kicked angrily at the water, but retained his self-imposed silence as he leaned back into the rain once more.

Elizabeth caught a motion in her peripheral vision, and moved only her eyes to see Myles standing about fifteen feet away. With a slight motion of her fingers, she asked him to wait. He nodded, and her eyes swept back to Sam. Time to push a button, she thought.

"There's a whole lot of people wondering where you are, Sam. Myles is worried sick."

"Myles doesn't care about me. He just says he does, like everyone else." Sam muttered in reply. He began brushing at the water with his fingertips.

Elizabeth stopped Myles from approaching again. Her voice softened. "Sam, listen to me. You weren't in the car with him tonight, searching all over this city. You have no idea how deeply he cares."

"He left me! I told him not to leave and he left anyway!" Sam growled, slamming a fist into the surface water of the pool, causing it to spray wildly, further distorting the already broken image of the Memorial. "If he cares so much, then why did he leave me alone?"

"You were both seven years old," Elizabeth admonished gently. "Are you going to tell me now that you truly expected perfect judgement from a seven-year-old? I'm not scolding - I'd really like to know."

"Well, no..." Sam admitted grudgingly. "But that wasn't the only time! He knew better later on! He had to!"

"He did, Sam - he knew something was wrong. He told me how hard he tried to explain it to your dad." Now she placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder, fully expecting him to pull away.

He tensed, but he didn't pull away completely, as she had thought he would. "But...I was...I was still alone. Without him, out there...and...I couldn't find him. He was just gone one day...he used to..." Sam himself was struggling to put it into words, and the same time, trying to keep the tears from falling and mingling with the rain. He tapped his chest. "He used to be here, with me. And then he just wasn't."

Myles couldn't stand it anymore. He took a step forward, and when Elizabeth nodded, he knelt down behind Sam, his face wet as well, from the rain or his own tears she couldn't tell. "Whatever happened that day, Sam, whatever happened...was so bad that all I felt was a scream, and then silence. From you. I thought you were dead. I tried to find you again, but there was nothing."

Sam turned to face him, confusion and distrust mingled on his face. "But...I...didn't you hear me? I was begging you not to leave...I couldn't stand it, not by myself...and then you were just gone. I thought you left on purpose..."

Elizabeth spoke softly, to both of them. "Sometimes a trauma is so bad that you unconsciously push away, even as you're screaming to hold on. It's a reflex, Sam - you were protecting Myles from the pain, as much as you needed him there to share it." She turned his face to look at her. "What happened that day, Sam?"

He gave her a deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare, and swallowed hard. He tried to look away, to turn his face from her, but she wouldn't let him. Sighing heavily, he finally spoke. "Master Lyle...he..." Sam's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "He used me to get a girl into the motel room we had been living in." He paused, and then forced himself to go on. "Master Lyle made me pretend I was his son...and then said we had to stop to get something. I really didn't know, I didn't..." Sam choked up, and stopped short, biting his lower lip to combat the threatening onslaught of tears.

Myles started to reach out to his brother, but Elizabeth stopped him. She said, "Go on, Sam. It's all right. What happened next?"

"He locked the door after we went into the room...slid the chain lock into place. The girl asked him what he was doing, but he wouldn't answer. He threw me in the bathroom, and shoved a chair under the handle..." Sam closed his eyes against the memories, but plowed on through the story, his voice shaking. "I hid in the bathtub...I remember hearing the rain on the roof, but it wasn't loud enough…I could hear her screaming...just screaming...I couldn't stand it...I wanted Myles to be there, I couldn't take it alone...I panicked when he wasn't there. I started screaming, too. Master Lyle came in to see what I was doing, and got mad...he grabbed me by my shirt and slammed me against the wall, over and over again...I don't remember anything after that, not until I woke up in the back of his car..."

Elizabeth let go of his face, and Sam crumpled, sobbing into his hands. Myles was sitting behind him looking as though he'd just been shot.

"Sam," she said, her own voice a little unsteady, "I want you to listen to me for a minute, okay? This is important."

It took him a long minute to steady his shoulders, and nod into his hands, but he did so.

"What happened was not your fault. That's the first thing you need to know— and know for yourself." She drew his face upward again. "It wasn't your fault."

"But..." Sam protested, shaking his head, trying again to pull away; tears still running down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. "But I helped get her into the room...I helped..."

"You were being used against your will, Sam," she replied gently. "You didn't know what was going on— it was not your fault."

Myles put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "She's right, Sam."

"Then how come it feels like it's my fault?" Sam demanded brokenly, hands clenching into fists at his sides. He looked at Elizabeth, his eyes wide and pleading, begging for an answer.

She was silent for a minute, trying to formulate an answer. But it was Myles who responded.

He took Sam by the shoulders and locked eyes with his twin. Taking a deep breath, he dropped every mental and emotional wall he'd built up over the years. "Come on, bro," he whispered. "Let me in."

Sam's eyes widened further, if possible, and he gave a rapid shake of his head. "I'm scared, Myles...I don't think I can fight anymore...what if...what if..." Sam paused to catch his breath, and found himself unable to finish the thought aloud.

"What if what?" Myles put just enough force in his voice to prod Sam a little.

Sam didn't drop the penetrating gaze he and Myles were sharing, and he took a deep breath. "What if you don't understand? What if it happens again? I won't be able to take it a second time, Myles, I won't make it..."

Understanding dawned, and Myles tightened his grip on his brother's shoulders. "Sam," he said softly, "I'm right here. Right in front of you. You're not hundreds of miles away. You can see me here. And I'm not seven anymore – I've seen…" His voice broke a little, and he shook his head slightly. "You don't need to protect me now. I can understand. What happened before - it's not going to happen again - I promise you that. I'm not going to let it. Let me in, please."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, and clenched his jaw — then let his walls drop. Years of frustration, anger, and agony surged through his system — things he hadn't even let himself acknowledge for a long time. Everything came back in a rush. "Stupid kid!" - "Please, help, please..." - Why does he hate me? - Don't HIT me! - Mommy, Mommy, Mommy...it hurts, oh it hurts... - What did I do wrong? - "Shut up, you worthless little piece of..." - He's not right, he can't be right, he can't be he can't be, but he is...he is... Screams and cries echoing in his ears, Sam's' eyes flew back open.

Myles reeled back from the force of the emotions, but he didn't let go and he didn't break the gaze. "It's all right, Sam. I'm here. Lyle's wrong; you're not worthless, oh, you're not..."

The years faded away, and Myles was suddenly back at the office in Augusta, watching Sam rock on the floor. But this time, he knew what to do. The nine-year-old in his mind knelt and wrapped his arms around his twin, pouring all the strength he could muster against that cold wall, battering it down with every ounce of love in his heart. You're not worthless. You're my brother, you're my Sam, and you are worth everything. But the words seemed to bounce back at him, and he realized that Sam was caught in the nightmare again.

He came back to the present fast, searching his twin's eyes. Sam seemed lost in the memory, fighting to make it out and losing. He took a deep breath, fully prepared to dive back in as deeply as he needed to. A hand on his arm stopped him, and a gentle voice resounded in his ear. "Myles, don't— not this way. You'll only get lost, too, and I don't know what that would do to either of you. There's another way."

Myles nodded, his gaze still locked with Sam's. Elizabeth pulled her feet out of the water, came up on her knees and grabbed Sam's arm, shaking him slightly.

"Tell him, Sam!" she interjected firmly. "Tell Lyle he's wrong! You're not alone, you have help with you! He can't hurt you anymore - tell him!"

Sam found a bit of unexpected strength in the near-forgotten form of Myles' presence, and he drew on it. He closed his eyes, and dove back into the images of the past. You're WRONG! - You CAN'T win! - I WON'T LET YOU! He sucked in a breath, and saw the smaller form of himself in what could have been, challenging a trembling Lyle Matthews, with fierce eyes and a strong voice. The memory faded as quickly as it had come, and he found himself looking at Myles, the rain still falling down around them. With a hiccough of a sob, he leaned his weary head against his brother's steady shoulder.

There was an awkward pause for just a moment. Then Myles drew his brother into a hug, and the twins clung to each other.

Elizabeth sat back and smiled. "Just goes to show, you don't mess with a Leland," she said softly.

The comment earned her two surprised looks: Sam not realizing he'd spoken the words aloud, and Myles having forgotten she was even really there.

Myles managed a grin and said, "That's right. Especially two of them."

Sam gave a half-laugh, the sound still wrought with the remnant of tears, and then exhaled slowly; the release of years of emotional burden being lifted was enough to lighten his spirit, even as dark as the situation still was.

"Tell you what," Elizabeth said, getting to her feet and holding out a hand to each of them. "Why don't we all go dry off, and then we can talk some more. What do you say, Sam? Ready to get it all out?"

There was a flicker of hesitancy, and then he agreed. "Yeah...I think I am." He took Elizabeth's hand, and pulled his waterlogged shoes out of the pool water, and planted them on the soggy grass.

Myles grabbed her other hand and got to his feet. He leaned across her to his brother and said in a loud whisper, "Y'know, maybe she's dating the wrong twin after all."

A grin slowly spread across Sam's face and his eyes lightened, if just a bit. "Too late. Go sell her to someone else. I like Tara."

Elizabeth laughed and put an arm around each of them. "Keep it up, and you'll both be looking for new dates. Come on, before we all get pneumonia."

-!-

-!-

"Sam?" Elizabeth was curled up in one of the armchairs in the living room, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea.

"Yeah?" He was lying on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, a faint smile playing across his lips, as if in pride for having told off his personal demon. He glanced over at her and laughed softly. "You look like the time I tried to put a dog sweater on Glorfindel."

She glanced down at the sweats that were at least six inches too long for her, and the flannel shirt that was made for Myles' broad shoulders. "I really need to start packing a change of clothes in my car."

"Or leaving a change here," Myles quipped as he came out from the bedroom. He settled on the floor near the chair and accepted a cup of tea from her. Sam's cup sat untouched on the end table.

"How long have you two been dating?" Sam asked his brother, his gaze back on the ceiling.

"About five months. Why?"

"She doesn't know you well enough to start leaving clothes here. Trust me."

"Excuse me?" Myles raised an eyebrow.

Sam grinned. "Remember Aunt Christie's house when we were eleven?"

Myles thought for a moment, then burst out laughing. He turned to Elizabeth. "He's right. Better keep the clothes in your car for now."

The psychologist looked from one to the other. "I expect to hear this story from one of you on another occasion – preferably before another week is out."

"I'll tell you later," Myles promised.

Sam laughed again, then grew serious. "Sorry, Liz. You were about to ask me something?"

She nodded. "I need to ask it, Sam. As informal a 'session' as this is, I still need to ask. Okay?"

"Okay. Shoot."

"Did Lyle Matthews ever abuse you…?" She let it trail off for a moment, took a breath, but he answered before she could finish.

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? Yes. Verbally? Constantly." He sighed. "But sexually? No."

In the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Myles close his eyes and whisper a silent prayer of thanks. She laid a hand on his shoulder, then sat up and leaned forward. "All right. Why don't you start at the beginning and just talk – everything. Let it all free, Sam. The situation with Matthews, your feelings, toward him, your family, Myles…just talk. It's okay now."

Sam cast a wary glance at Myles.

His twin nodded, encouraging. "It's all right. We've spent enough years mad at each other. I can handle anything you have to say. Besides," he said with a half-smile, tapping his chest, "I can feel it again now, anyway. So just talk."

Sam turned his gaze back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Well, about five minutes after Myles went to find Dad…"

-!-

-!-

The sun was coming up. They had talked for five hours, and Sam had drifted off into a deep sleep on the sofa, his expression peaceful. Glorfindel was curled up on his chest, purring.

Myles poured two cups of coffee and brought one over to Elizabeth, who was perched on a barstool. "You think he'll be okay?"

She accepted the cup gratefully. "Eventually. He went through a lot, Myles, and he's buried it for the better part of twenty-five years. There's still a lot of anger, a lot he needs to resolve, wth your folks as well. It's not going to be healed overnight, but he's on the right road." She looked up at him. "A lot will depend on you, I think. He's still afraid that special bond you share isn't going to last, and he's terrified of being alone again."

He sighed. "I know. I'm afraid, too. A lot of the walls I have to put up, because of work, may interfere with that bond. I need to figure out how to…do both, I guess."

Elizabeth nodded. "Part of that will be helping him understand that there are times when you will have to shut him out, for the same reason that happened years ago – you're protecting him, or you need to concentrate – but that you'll be back, or simply a phone call away. Don't be surprised, though, if you get a call almost immediately the first few times. You may have to employ Tara as a backup, if you're in an undercover situation."

"What do we do about Lyle Matthews? They're going to track him down shortly. Jack's going to want Sam to come ID him. There's no longer a statute of limitations on kidnapping. We could actually put him away for what he did to Sam."

Her dark hair swung as she shook her head. "I honestly don't know. It could make all the difference in the world, or it could send him backwards. I just don't know. I think you'll have to ask him."

Myles nodded, and came around the kitchen counter to draw her into his arms. "Thank you." He dropped a kiss into her hair. "Thank you so much, for bringing him back to me."

She smiled, but shook her head again. "You brought him back, Myles. Not me. And I'm going to warn you; there are no guarantees that he's going to be any different than he's been over the last twenty years. He's been making so much noise to drown out the memories; that's not something he's going to be able to just turn off."

Sam shifted on the couch, with a small sigh, and Glorfindel gave a sleepily frustrated meow before settling down again, this time tucking himself under Sam's chin.

Elizabeth looked over at him, a fond smile on her face. "He does grow on you after awhile, doesn't he?"

Myles chuckled under his breath. "Yeah."

Her smiled faded a little, and she turned back to Myles. "I almost forgot— he's probably going to suffer from pretty severe nightmares for awhile, too. It's a natural reaction when a long-hidden trauma is brought to the surface."

"What should I do? What can I do?" Myles asked, a bit of alarm— partially edged on by exhaustion— creeping into his voice.

"Just be there for him. That's all." She drew back a little, and pushed him down onto a stool. "The other reason I need to mention it is for you. Tell me something — did the two of you ever share dreams when you were younger?"

Myles' brow furrowed in thought, as he tried hard to remember. "Yeah, actually...I can think of a few different times..."

Elizabeth sighed. "I had wondered. From what you told me, and from what happened at the park tonight, you and Sam are pretty high up on the 'bonding scale,' as twins go. Depending on the situation, you share much more deeply than average. That's why I mentioned the nightmares. As strong as the emotions around these dreams will be, you may find yourself experiencing them, too. He'll need you there, and you'll get drawn in."

"I see." Myles nodded slowly, and looked over at the sleeping form of his brother. "How soon do you think they'll start? Could it be now? This morning, even as wiped out as he is?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. It'll be less intense if you're awake, but you may still sense it. If he decides to confront Matthews today, then I suspect tonight will probably bring the first. It just depends on him." She stepped forward again and gave him a hug. "I know you can handle it, though. I just wanted to give you an idea of what to expect."

"Thanks," he replied, "I think. You want me to drive you home? Or you can just crash in the guest room, since Sam's on the sofa."

"I like that idea. Thank you." She stretched and walked down the hallway. A moment after she had stepped into the guest room, she poked her head back out the door. "Myles," she asked, a little puzzled, "did you know there's a big dent in your ceiling in here?"

He laughed. "Another story for later, love. Get some sleep."